Philip
The sun had set on what had been a busy day. In addition to briefings and gearing up, there had been a number of small private gatherings as survivors finally had some time to stop and mourn the fallen. There would be proper funerals at a later date, but for the moment empty bunks and broken units were scattered around the ship.
Corporal Philip Avendano was currently checking his weapon while constantly looking out into the growing darkness. He had been assigned to oversee a Lovecraftian amalgamation of a section, cobbled together from the uninjured. Presently, the group of a dozen individuals were stationed in sandbag enclosed bunkers, hastily set up around the ship.
They had set up three dirt-enclosed pillboxes - One towards each of the primitive armies and one with the ability to provide support for either position.
Philip had requisitioned a number of engineering drones to dig and reinforce tunnels between each of the basic constructs using wire mesh and steel frames to reinforce the walls and ceiling. The tunnel also went to a section under the ship that had been excavated facing an entry point.
Each pillbox had a few hundred rubber bullets in store, with three soldiers equipped with modified rifles that could fire said bullets. These were in addition to their standard weapons - Philip had been told that everyone was to preserve their own lives at all cost, but to try and use the rubber ammunition to deter either side from coming too close if a battle commenced.
The central blockhouse held four more, including Philip, each equipped. The final two soldiers in his section were given beanbag shotguns and assigned to ensure that if an incident did occur the tunnels remained clear.
Due to strange energy fields being detected in the vicinity of the blue army camp (Both armies had been referred to by their prominent colors over the last few hours), landline cabling was run from each pillbox to the ship itself in the event that the energy fields interfered with wave based transmissions.
Philip had been given the use of a tablet which allowed him to switch between the views of several drones in the area as well as to view helmet cam feeds from each member of his section. While it would not function in the event of a disruption in airwave capabilities, it would be of great utility as long as everything functioned normally.
“Purple, this is Forward Red. We have movement. Grid 5-7. Six, dark clothing, visible on thermal. How copy? Over.” The creative powers that be had designated Philip as purple, as commander over blue and red teams. They had also set up a very basic grid system. With a lack of proper GPS, they had set the ship as the center of 10-10 and coordinates were interspaced at 100 meters.
Philip switched to thermal and sure enough, he found six individuals. Three of them were in heavy cloaks, three of them were in what he assumed was the lacquered leather and metal armor. They were lit up like beacons on heat sensors.
They moved through the darkness, keeping to a few dried streams and moving from one clump of shrubs and tall grass to the next. They were clearly making a beeline for the ship and the camp at its base.
“Forward Red, purple. Copy five. Ready non-lethals and stand by. Over.”
“Purple, Forward Red. Acknowledged, over.”
Philip continued to monitor the approaching red soldiers.
Yvonne
“We literally saw them raise a fort, and you don’t think it’s worth re-evaluating what we’re doing?” Lieutenant Wendy Estep was upset, her statement mirroring Yvonne’s own inner dialogue. Lieutenant Seth Fletcher, as weapons officer and temporary commander of their forces, was not.
“We don’t know what we saw. Nothing in that video is possible without a lot of coincidences, and it is certainly beyond the realm of anything we can do. As such, there has to be some kind of fluke. These primitives can’t have something unexplainable by science, no matter how much that stream looks like evidence. The engineers have detected someone pulling data somewhere on the ship - I think our civilian passengers are messing with us.” Seth paused for a breath, and Yvonne jumped in.
“And what would their motive be?” She was exasperated, this argument had been going on since the sun began to set. “We’ve demonstrated that their weapons can’t touch us, but this is different - Keeping this to ourselves is putting lives at risk! What if they can raise spikes, or-”
“Yvonne, I don’t care what you’ve seen in your anime. This is real life. No one is going to ‘bend’ stone into barricades.” Yvonne clenched her fists upon being interrupted and belittled by the man, but she had nothing else to contribute. The evidence was there, and it was either accepted or it was not.
“Just in case, I’m authorizing one of the point defense turrets. I’m not sure how the flechette rounds will be in atmosphere, but at the range we expect for engagements it’ll still be effective enough to deter them.” Even though supply officer Jonsson wasn’t willing to stand against Seth, he at least was taking a mitigating approach to whatever it was they witnessed.
Seth shook his head, “You’re being paranoid, but it won’t hurt anything to drill the gunnery crews and spin it up. I’m going to check the vehicle bay. Jonson, Estep, follow.”
Two muted utterances of “Yes sir” and the closet was empty again. Yvonne checked the admiral’s condition once more before stepping out and heading to her office.
To her dismay, there was a flashing missed alert sign on her desktop. She slumped into her seat and went to view it, worried, she’d missed some urgent request or update from another part of the ship.
TRANSLATION STATUS: 80%
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
COMMUNICATION VIABILITY HAS REACHED NATC MINIMUM REQUIREMENTS
PUSH PATCH 305.7C TO ENDPOINTS? [y/N]
Yvonne went to select the affirmative, before thinking better of the action. She cancelled, and pulled out a set of augmented reality glasses she occasionally used. She powered them on, confirmed their charge, and subscribed to the patch on the single device.
It made sense to try things first, before deploying it to the entire ship and risking a miscommunication, right? Plus, she wanted to visit her patients. Even if she could only make basic statements, it was important to reassure them that they intended no harm.
Quintus
The knowledge that his legion were close had both filled Quintus with apprehension and relief. He could only hope someone would attempt a diplomatic approach to the metal construct and its inhabitants, granting Purductonia the chance at establishing a positive relationship with these people.
For the thousandth time, he wondered about the origin of these people. Were they always in the sky, and simply decided it was time to descend? Were they distant travelers from a distant yet-discovered continent? He only had so many scenarios that could possibly explain their strange magics and lack of a shared language.
A commotion outside of the tent - For while it was strange, this construct was clearly made out of cloth and a frame, so it had to be a tent - brought him back to the present.
The tent flaps were pulled back by two of the armored humans, and the woman in white - Yvonne - entered accompanied by one of the smaller constructs. It was not the white with red cross constructs, but one of the smaller ones that he had seen with the beetle constructs.
She looked around the tent, and appeared to note that Quintus was alone. He was sitting in one of the strange folding chairs at a folding table. She took a folding chair from where it leaned against a support post, and placed it at the table. Quintus tensed a bit - This was the first time someone from the metal hulk had approached him since they were placed in this camp.
He wondered how she was going to communicate. She said something he could not understand, and after a moment the small construct by her shoulder started making noise.
“Hello. Me heard?”
Quintus spilled his mug. It only held water, but he hadn’t been prepared for this. “Yes? I can hear you.”
The construct output what he could only assume was this person’s language. She smiled and pointed to herself. “Name Yvonne.”
“I am Quintus.” This was not a normal translation magic, but it was close enough. This group seemed very reliant on objects and less reliant on individual magic. Perhaps they pursued standardization above all else?
Over the next thirty minutes, Yvonne asked Quintus questions in a semi-functional translation, and he did his best to answer those questions. Yvonne was frustrated by several questions that simply did not seem to translate, but Quintus was successful in providing basic details about the two legions near the metal construct.
The Netharians, or “Red” as she referred to them, would try to investigate the construct and potentially steal anything they could turn to their advantage. They were convinced of their moral superiority in all things, so unless they received a direct demonstration that they were outclassed they would continue to test these people.
In exchange, Yvonne explained - As best she could - That these people were from the North Atlantic Trade Organization’s star-faring navy. It was a mouthful and caused his mind to freeze for a moment, but it did answer some questions. These people had traversed the sky.
They were not from this world. On one hand, that was a positive - It meant that they were not biased in their dealings, and so the ‘rebellious’ Purductonian nation could possibly find an ally in them. On the other hand, the idea of a group of humans capable of moving between entire worlds was terrifying. There was a mention of multiple fleets - And Quintus was brought back to their first encounter. Eight points of light burning across the sky, not including Yvonne’s people.
The world was going to change dramatically, for better or for worse.
Yvonne
The translator was incomplete. It was certainly functional - But so long as it labeled things as ‘magic’ and ‘divine power’ it would cause problems with the ship’s crew. A number of her questions had pertained to what they witnessed within the ‘blue’ camp, the ‘Purductonian’ force.
Quintus’ response had made it clear that it was standard practice among their forces to find and fortify a water source, but the translator had clearly labeled the next step as ‘magic’. For now, she updated the translation patch to replace ‘magic’ with an error, so that she could push it to the rest of the group.
It wasn’t technically her prerogative to handle social interactions, but the only linguist in their task force was MIA on another vessel.
While the patch applied itself, she opened a channel to Lieutenant Seth Fletcher. After a moment, his gruff voice answered. “Yes?”
“Lieutenant, I’ve got a live translation patch queued. I… Questioned them about what we saw in the video. They confirmed that it’s real. It’s not someone feeding us bad data.” Yvonne’s voice was laced with nervousness. She was still miffed by the earlier admonishment, but the idea of something beyond their understanding was far more concerning.
“So what - You’re saying they can just defy reality? Defy the laws of- Whatever it is. Conservation of motion, thermodynamics, that shit?” Seth was still highly stressed, but the fact that he hadn’t immediately shut her down was a positive. It meant there was a chance for him to see.
“The translation keeps using the term ‘magic’ for what they’re describing. They use wax ‘charges’ to cast spells. It’s standardized, but complex. The light we saw in the video during the march was divine magic, used to reinvigorate and restore-”
Seth cut her off, his voice snarling over the comm channel. “And how are we supposed to fight against such a thing?”
“I… I don’t know. The Netharians - That’s the red group - They’re not cooperative at all. But Quintus may be willing to-” Yvonne was cut short once more as Seth raised his voice.
“Dr. Shelby - Must I remind you that we are adhering to first contact protocols? We are absolutely NOT employing a local as an advisor or consultant - Not when they are clearly at odds with another group. Do you understand?”
The military training kicked in, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Yvonne Shelby replied. “Yes, Sir.” Seth killed the connection, and Yvonne was left to her own thoughts.
Philip
“Contact Red!” The ‘Netharian’ facing pillbox was suddenly firing, sending rubber bullets toward the six infiltrators. Prismatic light split the air a moment later and the sandbag bunker exploded.
“What the fuck was that?” Philip shouted, watching it unfold on thermals - There were no survivors. Cooling pieces of flesh dotted the crater that once contained part of his mishmashed squad. “Switch to lethal! Drop the bastards now, first contact be damned!”
The ‘purple’ bunker, sandwiched between the other two, moved to comply. They discarded the weapons loaded with nonlethal rounds snatched up their standard rifles. Each man, Philip included, braced on the sandbag wall and switched to thermal vision.
A moment later, a dozen shots rang out and the six Netharians fell - Dead.
Philip directs the others to continue their watch, and orders Blue to equip lethal rounds. With that done, he contacts Lieutenant Fletcher. “Purple to Bravo 6, Red is gone, requesting medical. Six hostiles eliminated. How copy? Over.”
There is a long pause before Fletcher responds. “Acknowledged. Dispatching drones to collect Red and hostiles. Flechette turret controls will be routed to you for area suppression. Over.”
