Chapter #19: The Lokken Blockade [https://i.imgur.com/cbSXhgl.png]

A sudden shudder and a loud metallic groan awaken Nicholas from his nap, forcing him to quickly sit up. Everyone else seems already awake, staring at the viewscreen, the largest monitor in the room showing a brilliant green and blue planet. Several other planets of varying colors and size are also visible past it, the brilliant yellow star settled in the middle of the system exuding light that reflects off the hulls of the myriad of ships in orbit.

"What's going on?" Nicholas asks as he pushes his way to a stand, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hand. "Are we there? That wasn't a very smooth slow down."

Tah-Kuell looks over when Nicholas speaks, nodding toward him. "The Lokken in this system seem to have set up a warp dampener, and we've entered its field of effect. Though I can't imagine why they would do such a thing."

One of the monitors switches from an outside view of space to a view of an office. Within it, a green-scaled reptilian creature can be seen from the chest up. His eyes are a pure obsidian black, clearly capable of moving independently but all currently focused on the screen. If chameleons were given ample time to evolve over millions of years, this is probably what they would look like. The green scales seem to taper off into a soft white scale toward his nose, little more than two holes settled a handful of inches above the creature's mouth. Their scale seems to harden and spike backward beyond the edges of their mouth and over where eyebrows might have been, meeting toward the back of the creature's head.

The suit he wears is black with silver stripes on his shoulders that denote rank and so looks a formal, standard-issue military suit. Though it's impossible to see completely due to the way the camera has been set to only show everything from the chest up. Though half of an emblem can be seen at chest level on the creature's left side, with an orange, star-like shape in the middle contrasted on a black background with a silver circle surrounding it.

"Unidentified vessel, you have entered restricted Council space, protected by the 506th fleet of the Stellar Guard Corps. Either turn around and leave, or identify yourself and state your business. Failure to comply will be met with aggression," the Lokken speaks casually, but with a hint of curiosity.

"Hello. It's going to be tough to identify our ship, seeing as it's on no typical ship registry," Tah-Kuell explains. "Unfortunately we are unable to alter course as we have no control over this ship. Please refer to your superior for instructions, initiate Protocol Grey, designation Nomad."

The Lokken seems surprised by that, leaning forward to tap away at the console he's at. "Interesting. This is the first time I've ever had to initiate Protocol Grey. You're free to come and go as you please. I've instructed all ships to stand down."

"Thank you," Tah-Kuell smiles, watching as the Lokken's face disappears, the screen once again replaced by space. He turns toward the others. "The situation has been defused for now."

"This is the first time we've seen the Lokken. They look pretty cool," Sophia chimes in, leaning back in her chair. "Think we'll see more of them down on the surface?"

"I doubt they'll simply allow us to land without checking us out even if we've initiated Protocol Grey," Tah-Kuell chuckles. "I'd be surprised if they simply left us alone. Lokken are inquisitive by nature."

Darius lifts a hand as if to get Tah-Kuell's attention, moving to a stand from his own chair. "I feel like we're missing some context here. What's Protocol Grey?"

Tah-Kuell seems to mull it over a moment, before deciding to explain. "Well, as you know, my species, the Mowaii, are known to the galaxy as 'Greys'. Much earlier into my people's arrival in this galaxy, it quickly became apparent to the Galactic Council that my species were vastly technologically superior to them, but fortunately for them we were only here to study, and not as an invasive force."

Pausing a moment to let that sink in, Tah-Kuell continues. "So in order to prevent unnecessary casualties, the Council generated a registry of known Mowaii ship types and created the 'Grey Protocol', which their military forces use to inform their fleets that a Mowaii ship has entered the system and not to take aggressive action against them or delay their coming or going. They also probably use the information to track Mowaii ship movement, but that's just a hypothesis."

"What about that designation you gave them? 'Nomad'?" Nicholas says as he gets closer to the viewscreen. "Some type of code?"

"A codesign given to the caveships they encounter," responds Tah-Kuell, turning around to Nicholas. "To them, the caveships are simply unknown wanderers, so they've been designated as Nomads."

"So our ship is considered a Mowaii ship?" Sarah asks.

"It would seem as though we are lumped in with them, yes. Which is fortunate, because it means we can travel where we need to while the ship isn't under our control," Tah-Kuell responds. "It seems we'll be entering the atmosphere soon."

"Hopefully we can land the ship and get out normally for once," Ava interjects. "Not a fan of being dropped at random."

Though as the ground rushes quickly in toward them, it becomes obvious that a soft landing isn't in store for them. The ship begins to rattle and a loud noise can be heard deep within the intestines of the craft, a hint of what's to come: the same beaming technology they were used to from the start. A burst of blue light engulfs the entire room, and after a brief flash, all six of them wind up on the planet's surface, deposited in a small pile, one on top of the other. The ship lingers on a few short moments above them as if making sure they were all there, before ascending rapidly and disappearing in moments from view.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say that ship doesn't like us very much," Darius groans, stuck at the bottom of the impromptu dogpile. Rolling off him with muttered apologies, all six gradually stand and look around to gauge their position. The ground is made up of brown soil and the surroundings look quite a bit like Earth, with tall brown trees and bright green plains, with a hint of forest and mountainous regions not so far away. Though no water is seen, billowy white clouds overhead and the distant mountains sporting frosted peaks says there has to be some around close by.

Positioned not so far away from them is a small base, sort of a fortified installation, likely of Lokken creation. It is composed of heptagon structures that resemble bunkers. Although the walls surrounding the base resemble stone or fine concrete, the rest of the compound seems to be made of a fine beige alloy. Several landing pads connected to the greater installation play a temporary home to several Lokken ships, clearly transportation craft by the lack of visible weaponry and the greater focus on better defenses and shields for potential cargo. The figures of numerous Lokken can be seen from a distance, barely able to be made out. A door, not unlike one might find at a garage, opens from the side of the base facing the teenagers, and a large craft launches out of it. It turns to aim directly toward them and quickly bridges the distance between them.

It's a hovercraft of sorts, though clearly meant to transport several soldiers, or perhaps even a crew of sorts, about the height and size of a bus but not nearly as long. Its shape resembles that of a turtle shell, if the shell were the size of a car and made of metal. It is white in color, though it has that familiar emblem painted or emblazoned upon its side, the one that identifies it as property of the Galactic Council. It's not spectacularly fancy, but it's clearly built tough and meant for more rugged terrain than the lush greens and tepid air of Igeon.

The craft slows to a stop as it approaches them, and out of the vehicle steps out a Lokken pilot, this one visibly different from the one they'd seen before. His scales are a light blue color, not quite the same as the sky, but just a few shades darker, and the spikes along his head curve decoratively from the edges of his mouth, straight up over his head to meet at the top of his head before combining into thicker spikes that flow toward the back of the Lokken's head, where they disappear gradually toward the base of his skull.

The Lokken's suit is the exact same layout and color as the first Lokken's they saw in the viewscreen, but this time, they are able to see it in its entirety. The top half of the suit is dark navy grey, but is cut diagonal straight down the middle across his chest. A thin stripe of silver bridges the transition from the grey chest to the orange diagonal bottom, which covers the stomach part. Something belt-like is wrapped around the Lokken's waist. The Lokken's pants are a pure black from top to bottom, with strips of silver along the sides of his legs that lead down to black boots that are notably designed to seal off the legs, almost like the teenager's own suits, likely meant to keep outside things from entering, but considerably more formal and militaristic in nature. The only thing that isn't part of the clothing is the metal shoulders and the orange, star-like medal on the right side of his chest, contrasted on a black background with a silver embossed circle surrounding it. A badge of sorts, with no doubt the Galactic Council symbol.

"Hello there!" The Lokken calls, chipper, and visibly excited. "You must be the ones who invoked Protocol Grey! My name is Tirin. I must say, it's an honor to get to meet a Grey, finally after all these years, face-to-face!" He claps his hands together, his gaze on Tah-Kuell for a moment before one of his eyes sweep over the teenagers. "Though I can't say I recognize what species the others who are with you are."

"These five are from a race known as Humans, from a planet called Earth," Tah-Kuell informs Tirin, turning so he can introduce them each in turn. "This is Nicholas, Sarah, Sophia, Darius, and Ava."

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"Oh, interesting. A type zero civilization. We usually don't interact with those below our own stage of development, but if you're with a Grey, then I guess you must have something special about you. Regardless, it is always a pleasure to make new acquaintances," Tirin moves in close and extends his hands to offer a complicated handshake maneuver that not a single one of them are able to keep up with. It goes quickly, though, so it's not awkward for long. "I'm the local ambassador here, representing the Galactic Council in this sector. Typically, my function is to meet and tend to the needs of everyone who comes to visit. That includes even unscheduled guests, like yourselves." he smiles, shaking their hands.

"We've heard about the Galactic Council before, but I don't think we've ever seen one of you guys or heard about what you actually do," Darius admits, stepping in closer. He chuckles, crossing his arms. "It's sort of like a science fiction show."

"Ah. Well, where to start? The Council has been around for a very long time. We are an alliance of many species from throughout our galaxy that have come together to fight any potential outside threats, as well as maintain peace throughout our worlds," Tirin explains, pacing in place as he speaks, one eye on the group and the other flitting about anxiously. "The Council consists of several member species, including the Lokken Republic, of course, as well as the Praeryndori Kingdom, the Todea Hierarchy, the Drekkan Sovereignty, and the Zironian Union."

"We've met Todea and Praeryndori before. And I think Drekkan are those angry snake dudes?" Sophia admits, a smirk growing on her cheek as she's clearly thrilled at meeting yet another alien.

"And the Ziron people, as well," Sarah nods. "Not that we got to really talk to them, we were still new to the whole space travel thing at the time."

"Oh, you got to meet a Todea?" Tirin gasps, clapping his hands together. "Very fortunate! They're quite rare to find. They're very strong, even if they are insectoid. Oh! I almost forgot. I'm here to bring you all to our installation here. It's a base we built just a few cycles ago for reconnaissance. If you're ready, climb aboard our transport and I'll take us there. Of course, you're more than welcome to stay out here to, uh, peruse around and wait for your ship?" He peers about, as if they might have tried to hide it in plain sight. He stares at the scenery in confusion when he realizes it's nowhere to be seen.

"It's a long story," Nicholas smiles warily. "But it'll be back within a day or so. Usually."

Darius looks around at the others, his brows furrowing as everyone seems to be accepting Tirin's presence readily. Perhaps due to his enthusiasm. "So, I'm just going to be the one to come out and say it. Are we really going along with this? Is it safe for us to go with this guy?" He turns his attention back to Tirin. "No offense."

"Oh. None taken." Tirin smiles, his eyes flitting to look toward the group.

Tah-Kuell seems a bit surprised at first by Darius's question, then quickly smiles, nodding. "It is pretty strange, isn't it? But I can assure you, we are safe. Lokken are one of the galaxy's more benevolent species, for better or worse. They'll afford us shelter and food, and allow us to safely go on our way. This should be one of our more peaceful stops. We're quite lucky to have landed here, and luckier still that Igeon is part of Council space."

Darius nods at the response and then turns to Tirin. " Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were alright with TK. He's kind of our know-it-all."

Sophia giggles and walks over to Tah-Kuell, patting him on the back. "You really do know everything, don't ya?"

Tirin observes this behavior with an intrigued face and seems somewhat surprised at how the Grey accepts and responds to Sophia's compliment with a smile. The bond the group have is obvious.

The group move forward to climb into the craft, noting that the inside is fairly large, with seating for quite a few individuals. The chairs are smaller than normal, clearly meant for Lokken, but the teenagers find them a bit uncomfortable. Except for Sophia, of course, whose smaller size is more in line with the Lokken's more diminutive stature. Tirin settles into the driver's seat and starts the craft once more. It hums to life, but other than a low-pitched, barely noticeable hum, it makes no other noise.

Sarah shuffles forward, deciding that standing was better than sitting, grabbing onto the back of the passenger's seat for balance as the craft maneuvers back toward the distant installation. "As we were approaching your system we noticed that your planet, uh..."

"Igeon." Tirin answers quickly and somewhat enthusiastically.

"Right, Igeon." Sarah clears her throat. "Well, we noticed there were a lot of craft orbiting around it. What's the reason for that?"

The question immediately causes Tirin to frown. If his eyes could narrow, and brows could furrow, he'd likely be doing just that. Instead, his spikes seem to lower closer to his face and head, in the same manner that a guilty dog might pin its ears back. "It's a very complicated subject. Technically, I have the clearance to explain, but..."

Ava leans forward in her seat, though she almost immediately regrets it as she nearly falls out of it. She corrects herself quickly, however, before anyone can notice. "Can you explain it to us then? We'd like to know. Just curious."

"Well, I suppose I could..." Tirin pilots the craft into the open garage door of the installation, and then he hits the breaks, parking the craft inside before opening the doors. Everyone piles out all at once, gathering around Tirin as he wrings his hands nervously. "You see, very recently in the galactic timescale, an unidentified species entered our quadrant and invaded an entire star system in the span of a week or so. We at the Galactic Council have tried to open communications with them, even tried to send ambassadors, but they never respond. They only consume worlds, acting more like a horde than sentient beings. We have come to refer to this species as the Ophio."

The garage itself is quite small, clearly only made for the vehicle itself and what's needed to properly maintain it. Tirin leads them through a single door into the greater installation at large. It's one large, open building, and the Lokken working look up almost in unison to watch them enter, staring at them all at once as if they were out of place. Though, clearly, they were out of place.

"Oh boy, this is awkward." Ava frowns, folding her arms underneath her chest, impatiently waiting for them to stop. When they don't, she clears her throat. Tirin notices the tension and frowns, turning to the other Lokken. "Hey! Get back to work!"

The Lokken that had been staring, almost as if they were chastised by a boss or manager, quickly go back to their tasks. Due to the open nature of the entire installation, everything is visible: Lokken are busy cooking, some working on starship parts, others relaxing or sleeping. Each of them are organized like a military unit should be.

Finally relaxing again, Tirin lets out a nervous chuckle. "As I was saying..." He leads them slowly over toward the section of the installation devoted to relaxation. Many chairs have all been set in a circular pattern, each as small as the ones in the craft they were in earlier but made of considerably more comfortable material. Reluctantly, the group settle in to listen to Tirin, watching as he sits as well.

"We're not entirely certain where they've come from or how they got here, but it's lucky we caught them when we did. The only other systems around here that can be reached before needing to refuel star-drives are all a bit secluded and ways behind us. In other words, we're all that stands between the rest of the galaxy and an invasion force that, frankly, we're not entirely sure how best to handle. So far we've been able to stop them using our fleets." Tirin takes a deep breath, before releasing it. "But on the ground, once when they reach a planet. It's..."

He takes a pause before continuing. "Our goal for the most part has been to stop them from reaching the ground. Or it's basically over."

While the teenagers are visibly uneasy at this new information, Tah-Kuell seems a bit shocked. "How come this isn't more widely known news? I've never heard of such a species."

"We have been keeping this information locked down and away from the rest of the galaxy. The Council thinks if everyone knew about the Ophio, it'd create chaos and unrest," Tirin explains with a weak smile.

"I guess that makes sense," Tah-Kuell says. "I'm just concerned about it. I mean, what are the odds the Ophio will attack within the next twenty-four hours?"

Tirin's eyes turn skyward a moment, wringing his hands. "I couldn't say, but judging by the last attack, which wasn't that long ago, we should be fine for the next couple of weeks. In the meanwhile, you should all get to know the other Lokken in the base and learn about the Alliance more. They'll be off work here momentarily. We'll have a party and everything. I can tell they're all eager to meet new guests."

A low buzzing noise drones through the installation without warning. As the other Lokken move to get up from their stations, almost completely in unison, the teenagers notice that each of them has the same exact suit, with the same exact emblem, as Tirin. The only thing that sets them apart from the others are the way the spikes on their face and head seem to move and change colors when they're relaxed. They come in a rainbow of colors, each with a notably preferred coloration to their scales, and some of the Lokken begin moving over to the relaxation area to engage with the teenagers.

Another Lokken, this one with a red coloration and a notably feminine voice, enters from outside the installation, clutching a tablet as she shuffles over toward Tirin, who's seated comfortably next to Nicholas. Nicholas turns his attention away from the others to eavesdrop on Tirin's conversation.

"Sir, a group of ships entered the system not that long ago. We forced them to leave, but they warped in the wrong direction," the red Lokken female explains. "They appeared to be mercenary craft. I can't imagine why they'd be here. If they're after someone in the inner quadrants, they're going to be out of luck, considering we've evacuated everyone from there. But, they may have ulterior motives."

Tirin frowns at the news, scratching the side of his neck. He reaches out to gently take the tablet when it's offered to him, typing into it. "Tell the Admiral that we don't have the resources currently to send a recovery crew. Send them a message before they get out of communications range. Tell them that if they wind up in trouble, we won't be able to assist."

The red Lokken female takes back the tablet and nods, quickly turning around to shuffle away out of the installation again.

"What was that about?" Nicholas inquires loudly, figuring that they understood he was eavesdropping.

"Hm? Oh," Tirin chuckles. "Nothing. Probably just a few bounty hunters thinking their target is hiding in the fringe systems. If anyone ignored the evacuation orders, they're probably dead now. Still, it's all hands on deck in space all the time. Here it's more casual, a normal working environment."

"Oh, I see." Nicholas nods a little, trying to imagine it even if he doesn't fully understand.

"In the meanwhile, since you are a guest here, why don't you relax? Oh, I bet you're probably thirsty! Come with me, I'll show you where the food and water is, so you can help yourself," Tirin smiles enthusiastically again for the first time in a while, sliding off his chair and leading Nicholas toward the kitchen area. "We've got a drink here that I'm not certain you Humans will appreciate, but we Lokken love it. It's called KeI. I hope you've got an open mind."

Nicholas laughs, watching Tirin pour out a drink for him. It's a brilliant purple color, with chunks of ice swirling around it that seem to have something in the middle of them. The ice is too thick to make out, but their silhouette is obvious. "I'll try anything once, I guess. Sure. Why the hell not?"