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First Contact
Chapter 222 (The War)

Chapter 222 (The War)

The Lanaktallan researcher had been known as Glu'ufo'ot less than a year ago. Relegated to a project that had returned no new answers to old questions, sunk deep into debt and poverty, and threatened with being purchased by a corporation, he had faced centuries of debt, poverty, and worse.

Then the human had arrived. Apparently killed by a one inch diameter durasteel bar through the abdomen, the human had been dropped off at the station as it was the closest one to where the human had been recovered.

The human had turned out not to be dead, merely in a 'medically induced coma' to heal 'major trauma' and had woken right before Glu'u and his compatriots would have dissected him.

Now Glu'u was on a place called "We're Still Here" in the stellar system the Terran Confederacy referred to as "Alpha Centauri B", and things had wildly changed in the last six months. Where before he had worn the sash and flank coverings of a scientist, he now wore tailored clothing, including a suit jacket and very very posh looking flank coverings. He had polished leather shoe coverings, polished to a mirror brightness. He wore an expensive time-piece on his left upper wrist, not because he needed to, but because he enjoyed the sheer luxury of it.

He also had two Terran assistants. One to manage his recreation time, his guest appearances, appointments, and research time. Another to ensure that he was comfortable in his dwelling, that his prepared meals were to his taste, his clothing was properly cleaned, and other esoteric things he had never had to concern himself with.

For the majority of his life his food had come from a food dispenser and he had worn paper clothing as he just applied ancient theories to ancient samples to result in ancient answers. Nobody had cared about what he did unless he found an anomaly.

Now, Glu'u was trotting up the white stone steps, highly polished to the large inlaid double-doors of an educational institution. To the Terrans, it was an ancient one, established nearly 10,000 years prior.

Which made Glu'u snort in amusement. The research space station he had been assigned to prior to his 'defection' had been lost for a million years, and was estimated to be ten million years old.

To be honest, the Prokhor Zakharov University was a much more impressive place.

Rather than just rote recitation of facts and formula, students were encouraged to question "why" and "how" in regards to facts as well as to explore things already known for anything that had not yet been discovered.

It was much different than how Glu'u had grown up, had been educated. The fact were the facts and there was no reason to question how and why. No reason to examine how the facts came to be known as facts.

Glu'u trotted up to the elevator, nodding to the students, and rode up to the third floor. The elevator was comfortable, and even had pleasing tonal sequences the Terrans referred to as 'music', which made him tap one hoof in time with the song.

After a short trot down the hallway he opened the door and clattered across the polished floor to the lecturn in front of the stepped seating. The class was full, not only of students, but of observers, researchers, scientists.

He pulled out paper rectangles and shuffled them before tapping the edges against the wooden surface of the lecturn. He set the cards down, cleared his throat, and tapped the icon to bring up the first slide on the massive data-displays behind him.

"Good morning, class, and welcome to Primitive Non-Carbon Based Genomes. I am your instructor, Professor Glu'u Lanky. If you will examine the syllabus, we will go over what you can expect to explore during this Level 300 Genetic Science Class and the accompanying lab," he said.

Immediately everyone began taking notes and Glu'u smiled to himself.

Finally, after 200 years of research, study, and learning, he was able to teach.

Just like he had always wanted.

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Ru'ulmo'o sighed and pushed himself back from the computer display he had been examining. He appreciated that the Terran research corporation was willing to invest is such a wide series of displays to let him use all six eyes in a way that made reading data more comfortable.

Even Lanaktallan corporations rarely bothered with more than a single monitor for a researcher.

"You all right, Rule?" one of the Terrans asked, looking up from his work.

"My excitement at working with genomic samples that have never undergone manipulation is only exceeded by my frustration of the messiness of nature," Ru'ulmo'o sighed.

"What are you examining? Perhaps I can help," the Terran said, getting up and moving over next to Ru'ulmo'o. He looked down and shook his head. "Yeah, that one's a sticky one. We've been trying to crack that one forever."

Ru'ulmo'o reached into his pouch and withdrew some stimcud. He rather enjoyed it. It was from a place called Kentucky, a mixture of something called blue-grass, tobacco, and cannibus. He wadded it into his mouth and chewed with his back teeth, staring at the genome sequence as it slowly streamed by.

"It seems basic. An invading protein attacking the cell, but the fact that it is able to attack two unrelated species is odd, and that it would only attack those species is even stranger," Ru'ulmo'o said after a moment. "Only nature could produce such a thing."

"You don't think it was an old bioweapon?" his fellow researcher, Rwanta Tiklaki Brunt asked. When Ru'ulmo'o looked at him Rwanta shrugged. "Believe me, that's been a theory off and on for centuries."

"I thought so at first. It's too perfect, you know?" Ru'ulmo'o said. "It's clean, elegant, and efficient, attacks only those two species with a 100% lethality, has all vectors, survives outside the host as if its a standard airborne microorganism, and replicated explosively within those two species."

"I get it," Rwanta sat down in a chair, pulling out a pack of smokes and lighting one. Ru'ulmo'o found the scent pleasing. Terrans and Treana'ad both smoked, despite slight cultural stigma with doing so.

"But, after the latest rounds of tests and looking over the unadhered sequences, there's no doubt about it, it's natural," Ru'ulmo'o sighed. "Is it strange that part of me hoped I could swoop in and cure this and be instantly hailed as a hero by your people?"

Rwanta chuckled. "Every geneticist has that fantasy at times."

Ru'ulmo'o rubbed his middle eyes and looked up at the ceiling. "There's so much to do here. There's so many projects, so many questions that need answers, answers that need questions, and curiosities that need questions."

Rwanta tapped his ashes into the debris/trash collector. "I take it after a hundred million years of history it's all done where you're from."

Ru'ulmo'o snorted. "The leading scientific theory of my people is that all the questions that could possibly be asked and the answers to those questions were posed and provided nearly a hundred million years ago so there is no reason to ask new questions or look for new answers."

"And here I am working on examining the genome of an extinct species based on some viable DNA discovered in a preserved set of remains found in ice," Rwanta chuckled.

Ru'ulmo'o nodded. "To me, that's exciting. That sample would have never even reached us. It would have been determined to have been a standard early carbon based single celled organism and simply scanned and filed without ever examining it. You're asking where did it come from, why did it come from, what building blocks made it and why was it able to survive, all because you can."

"And we're paid," Rwanta said.

"Oh, yes, definitely because we're paid," Ru'ulmo'o nodded. He patted his cud pouch. "After years on that station doing nothing but going further in debt, the fact I'm paid to have lunch here in the facility is amazing. It's definitely nice to be paid. Getting paid is quite the novelty that I'm becoming accustomed to enjoying."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

That made Rwanta chuckle.

Across the room the holoemitters spun up with a whine and tall human female flickered into existence. She stared off into space for a moment as color started to fill her. Brown skin, shining bald head, chrome eyes, dressed in a lab-coat. She blinked and looked around, smiling.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. She held up one hand and bounced a ball made of swirling code in her hand. "SolNet is getting pretty hammered. They released a new season of Letmun Riddles and it's just crazy out there."

Ru'ulmo'o shook his head at the human habit of creating fiction. He'd watched a few of the 'movies' and while they were fascinating, he was still having a hard time coming to grips of how expending resources to make these 'films' somehow created more resources.

"So, were you able to get it?" Rwanta asked.

"Yup," she bounced the ball up and down on her palm a moment then tossed it into the middle of the room where it dissolved as the R&D mainframe grabbed the datapacket and decoded it. "Took a little bit of fast talking, but I was able to get it."

Ru'ulmo'o's crest curled with excitement. A rare genome to examine next to more modern ones. He pushed forward, saved his work, and brought up the new genome.

An extinct creature for Terra itself, lost when the planet was glassed. A sample had been found only a few months ago and everyone wanted a copy of the genome to examine.

What came up on his screen was a small warm blooded mammal of the rodent family. He rubbed all four hands together and brought up the artificial genome that was created to replace the small creature when the planet's biosphere was replaced. Comparing them he could see quite a few differences, small mistakes that rankled his senses.

"Excited, Rule?" Namini-893782 asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"Absolutely. The idea of creating artificial genomes to replace vital parts of the biosphere was a theory rejected by my own people's scientific organizations. This is all new to me. Both the recovery of a lost species, which is something my people never do, and examination of a synthetic species, another thing my people wouldn't bother doing," Ru'ulmo'o said.

"Well, then I'll let you get to work. Let me know if you need anything," Namini said, shaking her head.

She had to admit, she liked the guy. It had taken him a couple of months to get used to the fact he was allowed to ask questions and request resources, but once he had, he'd thrown himself into his work.

Ru'ulmo'o himself was busy comparing the artificial mouse to the original mouse, humming a song he'd heard and found particularly appealing.

The work in the Biosphere Recovery Project continued.

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Vu'uklu'u leaned back on the couch and puffed at the pipe he had in his mouth, looking smart in his custom tailored suit. The Terran female across from him was the height of Tri-Vid fashion, left mammary gland exposed, right thigh exposed, long hair that rustled and shifted as she moved and spoke, crackling arcs of electricity moving through it, slightly larger than normal cyber-eyes, and hover-high-heel shoes.

"Well, Almanique, you have to understand, for over a hundred million years my people just weren't challenged. We had every advantage after the Precursor Conflict and we used to it ruthlessly suppress all other species that might eventually evolve to challenge our views of a perfect universe," Vu'uklu'u stated, puffing on his pipe.

"So, you don't argue that you were merely doing it out of self-protection?" Almanique, host of Face Smashing Opinions asked pleasantly, sipping at her champagne. She knew that right now hundreds of millions of people were watching her show.

She could see her viewer count in the upper right of her vision. Oddly enough, her audience approved of her guest to a near 80%, which, since her audience was a multi-species audience, was rare.

Vu'uklu'u shook his head. "Not unless you count pre-emptive genetic manipulation and genocide as self-protection. Even if you do, my people never tried a single attempt at any other method of protecting themselves."

Almanique leaned forward, her eyes catching the studio lights oh so perfectly and making them sparkle. "Ah, but the Terran Confederacy has used pre-emptive strikes and genocide to protect itself within living memory."

Vu'uklu'u chuckled. "Comparing an attack by silicate based XNA life form uninterested or unable even unwilling to communicate to what my people did is a rather daring statement. As for pre-emptive attacks, I assume you mean with military forces?"

"Of course," Almanique stated. Nearly ten thousand viewers had just tuned in.

"Facing your opponent through martial might is one thing. You obviously felt that they were a military threat, or, like my people, a genocidal threat," Vu'uklu'u said. He puffed on his pipe for a moment, enjoying the taste of Fiji Sugar-Grass. "My people merely observed there was intelligence life, or life that had the capacity to become intelligent, and automatically assigned them the context of a threat to the Lanaktallan way of life and so immediately, upon discovery, moved to destroy them as a people."

"My audience finds it interesting that you display no remorse for what your people have done historically and are currently at war with the Confederacy for doing now," Almanique said.

Vu'uklu'u nodded regally. "Indeed, I do not. It was performed without my knowledge or consent. While I may have been part of the system, as a genetic researcher investigating ancient genetic data and samples on a nearly forgotten and almost abandoned space station, I would have never condoned destroying a culture. The guilt lies solely on those who built and guided such a criminal enterprise under the guise and pretense of having my own best interests at heart."

Almanique smiled. "An interesting ethical quandary and one I am sure will be argued for decades to come," she turned to face the camera. "Thank you, everyone, for tuning in. In two days we will continue our discussions on the Lanaktallan Great Herd, with my current co-host and featured guest: Vu'uklu'u, author of I was So Busy Grazing I Missed the Slaughter."

"Until next time," Vu'uklu'u nodded at the camera again.

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MANTID FREE WORLDS

You know what bugs me the most about the Lanaktallan?

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RIGELLIAN COMPACT

Their murderous genocidal ways?

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MANTID FREE WORLDS

In a way. It's their hypocrisy.

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BIOLOGICAL ARTIFICIAL SENTIENCE SYSTEMS

What do you mean?

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MANTID FREE WORLDS

Well, they're all about conservation, but the only thing they conserve is resources. That's it. We don't even know if they refine them into something else. It's just 'conserve conserve conserve' and 'there are only enough resources for one species to survive to entropy' but they don't even try to conserve anything beyond naturally occurring resources.

There's no conservation of art or literature or music.

There's not even a conservation of talent.

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TRAENA'AD HIVE WORLDS

True. Which brings us to the big question.

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MANTID FREE WORLDS

WHAT are they doing with all these resources?

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DIGITAL ARTIFICIAL SENTIENCE SYSTEMS

Considering I've estimated they've harvested enough resources to build 4.138 Dyson Spheres, including the creation of the stellar mass, they have to be doing something with it.

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TRAENA'AD HIVE WORLDS

Oh man, I just had a horrible thought.

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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS

What?---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

TRAENA'AD HIVE WORLDS

What if... bear with me now, what if...

Back during the Precursor War, or right before, they had envisioned this massive, and I mean, MASSIVE project, all dedicated to ensuring that they would be the ones to survive the entropic end of the known universe.

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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS

OK. And?

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TRAENA'AD HIVE WORLDS

Well, they go to war, and they turn all their construction and resource gathering vessels into the AWM's we all know and love, right?

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RIGELLIAN COMPACT

Makes sense.

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TRAENA'AD HIVE WORLDS

I'm not done.

Now, we know the First Precursor War was pretty devestating. All three sides basically lost, right?

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MANTID FREE WORLDS

Yeah. Basically.

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TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

Well, what if they're still working on this grand project. Gathering up all these resources and taking them to be used by their great project.

WHat if that's what's happening?

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DIGITAL ARTIFICIAL SENTIENCE SYSTEMS

Well, we know that.

Is that it, is that you're whole theory?

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TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

Yes.

I mean, think about it. What if they're gathering all these resources and delivering them to the place where they'd be refined and used for the Great Project.

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DIGITAL ARTIFICIAL SENTIENCE SYSTEMS

That's what they're doing. Why is this bothering you? We know they're doing that.

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TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

No, no, you don't get what I'm saying.

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BIOLOGICAL ARTIFICIAL SENTIENCE SYSTEMS

Explain.

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TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

What if they're delivering all those resources.

And that's it.

Nothing else.

They've stockpiled over four entire Dyson spheres out there in space, at where this Great Project was going on or was supposed to happen.

And that's it.

For a hundred million years they've just been piling up cigarettes and ice cream into this HUGE pile.

And that's it.

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MANTID FREE WORLDS

That's... terrifying.

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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS

How? It just means they're dumber than a box of bricks. How is it terrifying?

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TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

Think about it. The Lanaktallan have repeatedly stripped planets of life and resources, over and over, for a hundred million years. Completely mined away entire solar systems till all that's left is the stellar mass, some gravel, and wisps of a gas giant.

They've dedicated all this work, all this time.

To just stacking shit in the corner, staring at it and rubbing their hands together going "At last, we will have our revenge."

Think of the complete, utter, absolute madness of it.

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BIOLOGICAL ARTIFICIAL SENTIENCE SYSTEMS

Oh God.

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MANTID FREE WORLDS

The way the universe works, I'm afraid you may have just figured out their sinister plan.

Stack all that stuff in the corner so they have it in a big pile when the universe, I don't know, suddenly vanishes because of entropy.

They'll still have stuff, I guess.

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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS

That makes no sense.

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TNVARU GESTALT

Which is why that's exactly what happened.

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