The stars are suddenly back to their proper shape and in the distance, I can see a familiar marble floating in the void. We warped in double the distance of Earth's moon from the designated meeting planet. The meeting was planned, but they never gave us a proper distance to show up. So we did what we believed was respectful. It takes us less than two seconds to spot and ping all space traffic in the area. It's quite busy this time around with multiple vessels well over 1 Km in length.
In tandem with the ships' AI identification systems, the various sensor arrays designate only about twenty of the ships to be military vessels based on what is believed to be weapon hardpoints externally mounted on the vessels. Considering the very limited knowledge of these aliens these may not be weaponry at all. Regardless they are flagged on the sensor array. We wait in the void for a while, I order all vessels to sit in formation at this distance away. It seems we are not spotted for a while, I then make the call after discussing it with the Diplo-Colonel. I order all vessels to remain at weapons ready, but not general quarters. I also order them to stay back here in the void while I take the science vessel and the USS Catfish forward.
I decide to take it slow and have both vessels constantly emit a friendly message in broadband toward the alien vessels. It takes about an hour before the Catfish is struck with a very direct and high-energy transmission, very similar to the one from my previous experience. This time we are able to receive it and patch it into our comms despite its very alien nature. It connects us with whatever vessel has rung us up. There is no video on screen as we still don't have this type of communication fully understood yet. I step away from my console and let the Diplo-Colonel do her job. The voice coming through is auto-translated by the ship's AI based on the language we picked up from that one poor bastard we kidnapped five years ago during my questionable first contact. It's still a bit patchy, but we can get a general idea of what is being said. The voice is masculine sounding and calm this time around,
"Welcome back travellers from the great void. I am known as Shipmaster Blessed by the Sun, Viscount Kharl (sounds like Carl) of the Eternal Kingdom. You may refer to me as Shipmaster Kharl for ease of communication."
I somewhat cringe at the title finding it strange, but we are different cultures. I can see all of the bridge crew are listening with great interest. Shariah then replies, her voice being translated back to the aliens,
"Greetings Shipmaster. I am Diplomatic Colonel Shariah Jamestown of the United States of America. For your own convenience, you may refer to me as Miss Jamestown, Diplomatic Colonel, or Diplo-colonel Jamestown."
There is a pause and then the voice replies,
"Thank you, Miss Jamestown. Am I to believe the term Diplomatic Colonel is your rank?"
She responds,
"That is correct."
There is another substantial pause before the shipmaster asks,
"Am I to assume, by the naming of your rank your duty is as a foreign diplomat? For my understanding alone, as I believe your grasp of our most noble language is still shaky, what are your, or your family's holdings? This is so I may correctly offer you the proper respect."
Shariah looks at me for a second and she mutes the mic to ask me,
"What do you think he means by this Commodore?"
I shrug and respond,
"You have a far better dossier over their society than I do. This is greatly out of my wheelhouse.
If I have to interpret his words... I think he's trying to size you up based on his own society's culture. Considering the translator told us he is a Viscount, a noble rank, just answer your... well holdings or something. Like what you own."
She shrugs and unmutes responding,
"My rank is not based on the lands or property of me or my family. My rank is simply my duty."
The Shipmaster quickly replies with a surprising amount of excitement,
"Ah! So you are some manner of Gentry. "
I make a quick mental check on the AI to see if there is an error in translation for that last word. I get a definition meaning a higher class individual. What he actually said was a nearly five-syllable long word that has the closest meaning to Gentry. The AI also states the components of the long word could mean non-landholding nobility, but Gentry is the closest in the English language despite the archaic nature of the word.
Shariah doesn't miss a beat and responds,
"I believe that... is close enough to my station... possibly. I believe further discussion and cultural exchange is needed to truly understand these things."
The Shipmasters voice, now sounding more jovial responds,
"Of course M'lady. I will make sure you are brought to my grand vessel as soon as possible. Will you be taking any escorts with you?"
She looks at me and I shrug. She then responds,
"Yes, I will be taking with me a superior officer... higher ranking individual, and two escorts military personnel. Is that alright with you Shipmaster?"
There is a pause and he replies questioningly,
"You are not the highest rank in your ship? Why is it that they do not speak and you do? "
She responds cheerily,
"This individual is more of a military sort and less of a diplomat like myself. He isn't great with words."
She motions for me to interject and I make my presence known,
"Greetings Shipmaster. I am Commodore Barnabas Hollander, if I am not mistaken, my rank is as shipmaster of the vessel before you."
I can practically hear the shipmaster explode with joy as he replies,
"It is very nice to meet you... um... Com...Oh... Dore... I will be quite happy to bring you onboard my most brilliant vessel!"
I stay silent and Shariah takes the conversation back,
"Yes, the Commodore seemingly is also quite happy to come along. How will we be transported?"
The Shipmaster replies,
"My scribes tell of the last time our two nations met, so I believe bringing a small vessel out to you in order to properly ferry you and your retinue onboard will be proper."
Shariah responds,
"That would be lovely. I look forward to meeting you face-to-face... but please give us a moment to get ourselves ready to meet with you. Also, your small ship should maneuver to meet on the starboard side of our vessel. There will be red lights designating this site as our orientations in space may be different."
The Shipmaster gives us a farewell and the stream of radiation stops and the comms are silent. I sigh and say to Shariah,
"We have to go get EVA suits on now. Let's head to the armory and grab two marines. As we walk through the ship halls I start a discussion,
"So, we are boarding their vessel, what for? Why am I coming?"
She replies,
"We are simply knocking on the door and making ourselves known. They seemingly put lots of emphasis on social rank so our two highest-ranking officers will board. We will open dialogue with their leadership, try to get permission for a full cultural and scientific exchange through our science team, and then we will see from there.
At least that is my plan so far. All we need right now is a good... second impression and then we will have the civilian scientists and diplomats take over from there... of course, I will be alongside the diplomats, but that's for the future. Right now let's play nice, get into their good graces, and then you can stay on your ship or maybe go sightseeing on the planet."
I nod silently as we enter the armory. I had sent a mental message to two marine sergeants as we headed to the armory. The two hulking modified humans stand in attention awaiting our arrival. They salute us and we return the gesture as we quickly pull the EVA suits over our dress uniforms. Once on they compress around our bodies fitting comfortably and sealing us away. I pull the fishbowl helmet over my head, somehow managing to keep my tricorn hat on underneath with less than a centimeter of room between it and the clear polymer.
Shariah is wearing a cool black and gray suit, differing from my navy blue. I attach a small ranking insignia onto my chest and then affix a pistol to my hip. Shariah notices it and asks,
"Why would you bring a gun? We have the Marines."
I shake my head and respond,
"As much as I trust the Jarheads, I like to keep a piece on me at all times."
She nods and then asks,
"That one looks old... what is it?"
I give her a wide grin and immediately explain the gun to her,
"This is a Model 3-25M. It may look vaguely like a hammerless version of the ancient Colt 1851 Navy with a slightly elongated cylinder but that is by design. It is actually a very modern pistol. Utilizing 10x20mm caseless telescoped superposed ammunition twin stacked and fired electronically it has a fairly average 12-round capacity. Upon each trigger pull the cylinder seals against the barrel for better ballistic performance and after every 2 shots the cylinder rotates for the next two shots. Each round is capable of zipping by at a whopping 583 m/s. Every bullet is a palladium-plated round composed of lead with an osmium penetrating rod in the center with a specialized cavitating front allowing this bullet to handle targets with or without body armor. This weapon balances the elegance of those distant times and utilitarian modern technologies.
I'll admit though, this gun is quite a bit larger than it needs to be, and due to the really hot rounds and no recoil compensation the recoil can be a little uncontrollable but I do love it."
She scoffs before walking out of the armory. One of the marines says,
"Sir, if it means anything I think it's really cool."
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I laugh and give the big man a nod. I'll admit this gun isn't exactly the most efficient choice of weapon, but this one is kinda personal. I had it sent to the armory here for general repairs and cleaning by the armorer. The metal is a shiny silver and the grip is made of a very ornate and reddish wood from my homeworld. It's not engraved or anything but it is very stylish.
It's a product of a cultural movement in the USA that started about 40 years ago and still somewhat persists in its own way across the US. Basically, it's space cowboy culture. Plaid flannels, leather boots, and half to ten-gallon hats. This also impacted the civilian firearm market where modern weapon technologies are utilized to create modern-spec classic western weapons. I really only got into the gun part as these things are sick.
I leave the armory and we walk over to the external airlock on the side of the ship we designated for the aliens' arrival. I expected to see a small shuttle while looking out the window. The two fully armored marines almost crush me against the airlock as they too want to see the alien ship. I was mistaken about what they meant by "small". A 100-meter-long vessel, built in a manner that looks quite similar to a very massive sailing vessel glides out of the blackness of space. The flat top is encapsulated by some sort of shimmering dome and I can see non-suited figures working on the open deck. Judging by the lack of visible weapon hardpoints I assume this is a purely non-combat vessel. It pulls alongside the catfish and I watch some of the topside crew lower a bridge onto the side of my ship. They luckily were able to understand the red lights surrounding the airlock is their target. The bridge locks onto the side of the Catfish and the shimmering bubble extends from the top deck and creates a tunnel sealed against the hull. The airlock doesn't want to open.
Various warnings about radiation and the toxic reverse air atoms being in the air block my ability to open it up. I eventually brute force my way through the warnings and the airlock opens with only a minor hiss. The air pressure between our vessel and their air bubble is negligible. I let Shariah go first and she walks across the bridge. The crew seems confused about our dress, but seemingly takes it in stride. A very fancily dressed... man...bear...pig... green thing greets us happily and says, the translator AI working through our helmets audio receptors,
"Welcome aboard m'lady and most honorable shipmaster. I will be your servant for this short voyage. If there is any accommodations or refreshments you require I will get it for you as soon as possible."
I feel my tummy rumble realising I forgot to eat lunch but refuse the offer. The marines and Shariah do the same and we are taken to some very plush seats. I sit down on the strange fabric as does Shariah. The marines stand guard, their helmeted heads moving constantly looking for threats. Their massive automatic weapons are on display, a restrained show of minor force.
Once the bridge is retracted the ship begins moving through space silently and smoothly. Shariah and the man-bear-pig converse quietly for a while as I look at all the exotic lifeforms onboard. I don't know much about this alien nation, but they appear to be multi-species and none of the ones present are seemingly enslaved or are lesser beyond a normal ranking system, so at least we aren't dealing with slavers or something... right?
The ship we approach is... something else. It's built in a way I would best describe as whale-like. Long smooth curves and with "wings" that somewhat resemble giant fins. The only thing not whale-like is its 3-kilometer length according to my neurolinks measurement feature. I can see multiple batteries of what look to be cannons with absolutely insane bores. The smallest one I can easily make out is at least 16 inches or 405mm! Even if their technology is comparable to ours, or even a little less I cannot imagine how utterly destructive these weapons are. Considering I am standing in a fucking force-field of some sort it's safe to assume their technology is far more advanced than ours. Based on the specs I know, their smallest cannon, if it is comparable to any American Chem-rail system in capability would poke a hole through the Catfish with ease. The biggest guns mounted in a broadside configuration have at least a meter bore, so that's probably capable of erasing the Catfish from existence. This is a very dangerous situation.
I keep my poker face, even though these aliens may not be able to read my body language. Our boat... ship thing goes under the massive vessel and just sorta attaches to the bottom. A large opening in the bottom of the space whale fits our 100-meter ride perfectly. Our servant politely ushers us forward and through many corridors. The interior is strange, a mix of what appears to be wooden paneling and carved stone, like the interior of a Gothic castle. Artwork depicting all kinds of things line the walls, all immaculately created. The floor is covered in a long red carpet which is odd to me since this ship is probably military, considering the armored...knights that stand guard along the walls. They have halberds and other similar weapons in their hands which seems odd, but they have strange shapes to them as well, so they are probably more than just medieval melee weapons.
We walk up long flights of stairs and during this whole trek, I am taking as many readings as my suit can take about the environment around me. The atmosphere is entirely breathable if there weren't any of that strange backward radiation and elements. The sensors can't really tell me what the backward charged part of the atmospheric composition is aside from it being an "unknown deadly substance" as the science nerds haven't fully understood what it is yet. The atmosphere is incredibly oxygen-rich at a whopping 30 percent, with nitrogen making up a major component. The sensor readout also tells me the atmosphere is largely biologically produced meaning they don't use fusion or other methods to create the onboard oxygen, instead utilizing plants, bacteria, or algae for their breathable air. Seeing some arthropod beings walk by, the oxygen richness may be needed to sustain a few of the species found here while not being detrimental to everything else. I also note the gravity is lower than the Earth standard, it sits at a comfortable but light 8.9 m/s^2. Aside from that my suit isn't equipped for more detailed environmental scanning and documentation.
We are led into a very posh room where two bipedal bovine creatures stand like statues wearing what looks like butler uniforms from human culture. I don't think they're emulating our culture, it may just be some sort of cultural constant for butlers. The one leading us tells me and the marines to wait here while he takes Shariah with him elsewhere. She assures me that she will be fine and I sit down on one of the fluffy couches that I quickly find are stuffed with some sort of feathers. The marines stand behind my couch, their powered armor locking them into standing positions so they can effectively "lie down" while still standing. The two cow people then speak to me in tandem,
"Shipmaster Hollander... we are your humble servants for the time of your stay here. Are you in need of anything at this moment?"
Despite being creepy I smile and respond,
"No thank you, boys. I'll just wait around."
They do not speak again. I start looking around the room and appreciate the beauty and artisanship of whoever built this place. These aliens are really dedicated to their aesthetics. The closest I can describe the architecture and decorative style is like old pictures and reconstructions of the Palace Versailles or even the Doge's palace. Grand, but still somehow cozy and... as I notice the fireplace and the very torch-like crystalline lamps on the walls, very rustic. A voice pulls me from my appreciation, a recognizable one,
"Ah, you seem to enjoy the beauty of my vessel! I am quite happy about that! She is my pride and joy!"
I turn my head to see the Shipmaster his voice full of joy, like a grandfather excitedly seeing his grandkids after a long while. He is smiling back at me from under a thick, bushy, and immaculately groomed beard. I am staring at a fucking dwarf... The Shipmaster is a short and round man looking like a fantasy dwarf but his skin is gray and looks like it's made of stone almost like that of a rhino or maybe some sort of crocodile. Cracks splinter across his face allowing it to articulate in emotion, I safely assume the rest of his body is the same. His hair is a very dark red color, like cooling magma. He is wearing a puffy sort of uniform with bright yellow pinstripes running down the purple fabric. I smile at him and respond,
"It's a beautiful vessel! Everything is far grander than anything I've seen sailing through the stars. If I may ask what is the role of this vessel? Our design philosophies may be different so it's difficult for me to truly understand the purpose of this mighty vessel."
He somehow seems to glow... wait no he does glow. His beard seemingly glows like an ember that had just been blown onto as he responds,
"This is the Grand Dutchess of Thundering Storms, she is one of the greatest ships of the line in our navy! She has served as the flasgship of over a hundred fleets in her five thousand year service!"
I try not to seem suprised by the staggeringly long lifespan of a single vessel. Humanity hasn't even been a space fairing species for five thousand years. I do stay attentive hoping to learn more, but he is probably under some obligations of secrecy for securtiy reasons. He doesn't explain any more aside from the many battles the ship has won, and none of them really mean anything to me. The Shipmaster then asks me,
"Tell me about your ship oh Shipmaster. She is rather small for a flagship so I assume your kind sent a lighter vessel in order to not seem threatening right?"
I laugh nervously and respond,
"No... that is the flagship I command. It's not the biggest class we have of course, but she isn't exactly small either. She is called the USS Catfish and is a sort of jack of all trades when it comes to combat roles."
He nods and strokes his beard. In his firey eyes I can see him thinking deeply about my ship before he continues,
"So it appears your kind has yet to really take to the stars... Can't be helped not everyone is as far along as us, but your kind being able to sail the stars is quite an acheivement. Most we meet haven't even reached upper orbit."
I nod and respond,
"That's very interesting. So I assume your first contact rules allow you to speak with...ummm... non-space fairing races."
He nods and asks,
"I understand you may be a little defensive as this is a new situation with a new nation, so please forgive me for asking. How many stars and planets fall under your kinds rule?"
I imemdiately go searching through the US database for this information to find an utterly staggering number, but for a... race... or nation that has been in the stars for at least 5000 years if the dwarf is to be beleived it's probably quite small. I answer,
"My nation, the USA controls well over 3450 stars, with 1000 contested with foreign powers and an estimated 5000 more within reach that have yet to have anything more than a scouting mission to them. Humanity, my species, as a whole probably encompasses 30,000 stars total. This can be debated as some of the star systems only contain asteroids and dead planets with less than one hundred in population."
According to international treaty for a star system to fall under a nations flag it must have at least one permanent object in orbit around it, either free-floating or on a solid body. The only outlier of this rule is the encirclement rule where any system without planets or permanent man-made object that is encircled entirely by national borders falls under that nations control. There is more nuance and lots of legalese but thats the gist of it and allows for thousands of stars and planets to fall under mankinds rule, even if less than a third have any permanent human residence and have only a communication relay satallite.
The Shipmasters reaction is strange, his eyes go wide and his beard brightens up again. His mouth hangs agape for a second as he seemingly short-circuts from my information. He then shakes his head and responds,
"Having that many stars... that's amazing, but if they aren't all inhabited then it would makes sense how you could have that many."
I then return the question,
"Fair is fair shipmaster, how many worlds does the Eternal Kingdom have under its rule?"
I lean in excitedly, hoping to learn more about this alien society. The Shipmaster responds,
"We are currently sitting as the largest known nation... until you I guess... with over 2000 stars and each one has a habitable world on it."
I gasp in surpise at how full of life this part of the galaxy is if that's the case, but I ask another question,
"So how many stars do you control that aren't inhabited."
He looks at me for a second with a strange expression and responds,
"None, so far no star system has been found without life. Except for the area in which you come from... we call it the long void as we haven't yet found any signs of life until your kind just appeared... and then disappeared back into the long void."
I shrug and respond,
"I may have been on that ship that showed up here... I was the second in command."
The Shipmaster lets out a deep belly laugh that I can feel through the floor and he says,
"Now isn't that something! I assume that brute who grabbed Lady Skarshoul's wing got a proper beating once he came back onboard! I can't imagne how embarassed I'd be if any of my crew did that."
I look away from him and respond honestly,
"That was me... that grabbing is our kinds respectful greeting gesture..."
The Shipmaster pauses for a moment as he tries to see if I am lying or something then he laughs again and answers,
"Now that is funny! A cultural misunderstanding if I've heard of one. So is that grabbing like a bow or something for your kind?"
I shake my head and respond,
"No, bowing is something we haven't really done in a long time, depending on culture. It's basically a greeting letting the other know you respect them and are unarmed as it should be done by your dominant hand. It's like saying you come in peace when meeting someone new, and for people you already know it's like saying hello, I respect you."
The shipmaster strokes his beard and says distantly,
"That is a reasonable gesture of greeting when done between equals I guess."
He then looks me in the eye and asks jokingly,
"So can your kind regrow limbs? I heard the offender had lost the offending hand."
I shake my head and point at my right hand saying,
"Nope. This hand is now entirely made of metal, a cool little cybernetic. I will see if I am able to show you or not."
He now seems very interested and leans forward as I start working on the sleeve of my suit. I activate the auto tourniquet system right where my metal forearm and hand starts and remove the glove. With all air ways closed to my flesh this is mostly safe. He stares at the metallic construct for a moment before asking,
"May I please touch it?"
I nod and hold out my hand for him. He grins and takes my hand in a similar way to how I'm holding my metal one. We grasp eachother firmly and I shake his hand up and down. It takes him a moment to understand what I am doing before he smiles warmly and says,
"So... I guess that's the first official human greeting between the Eternal Kingdom and this... USA..."