Contact Briefing

© 2019 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  steamfox



The Colonial Government was in the process of reconstituting itself after the disaster at New Horizon, but a direct communication from the Kashlani demanded priority. Several days afterward, a report was received on Moncayo that a Transcosm freighter had received the message and had spoken to the lost colony’s leader.

A survey probe was sent out first, equipped with several smaller robots, to examine the system and report back to the Colony Diplomatic Team on Moncayo.

Twelve furs sat in a theater-in-the-round that served as a conference room, several leaning forward in their seats as the lights dimmed and a hologram of a binary star system appeared.

The Chief Survey Officer stepped into the hologram and she pointed at the indicated binary while the rest of the team took notes. "Based on what the inhabitants named the planet, we've named the two stars Ariel and Miranda. Miranda’s the primary, larger than Ariel by twelve thousand terrs - they're both G-class. Ariel is one light-hour from Miranda, and the two stars orbit their barycenter; the barycenter’s closer to Miranda by a negligible amount.

"Tempest orbits Miranda. It is the second planet of the system, and well within the viable envelope at 1.1 AU. No natural satellite. Year is 1.04 Standard." The kangaroo femme paused when a vixen raised her paw. "Yes?"

“The initial message said that they were marooned eighty-seven years ago,” the vulpine said. “Was that local years, or Terran?”

“We don’t know, but it’s a fair guess that it’s local reckoning,” the doe replied. “We’re basing that on the orbital period, although Captain d’Estcourt didn’t ask when she spoke with them. We’ll sort that out easily when we open regular contact. Which brings me to the solar flux in the system.” The image swelled to show the two stars. “Based on the initial transmission, it was ‘solar flares’ that brought their ship down – probably a massive CME that their shielding wasn’t prepared for.” A graphic showed the magnetic lines of force for each star; as the animation progressed, the lines in each star looped, stretched, and finally snapped, giving rise to solar flare activity until the magnetic field reconstituted itself. “Working theory is that the reduction in solar activity indicates that the two stars have calmed down a bit, until the next flareup.”

“Will that pose a problem for us?” The fossa mel was wearing naval uniform.

The kangaroo shook her head. “The survey AI says it won’t, and since the flare activity lasted some eighty-seven years and has now ebbed, it could remain quiescent for several decades or longer. Well, that’s the basics on the system. Hiro?” She stepped back and went to her seat as the team’s Chief Planetologist got up. The stars moved away and vanished, moving out to pass one barren planet and finally to the blue second world.

“Planet Tempest. It’s inside the viable zone, temperate climate.” He glanced around at the others. “Total land area is just over two thousand square kilometers, although there are larger seamounts scattered around the globe. Reports indicate that it’s tectonically active, and we may infer seasonal activity. The rest is ocean,” and the skunk mel waited for the muttering to die down.

The fossa in uniform whistled. “I have to give a lot of respect to the liner’s crew, then. Finding a dry spot to set down safely – quite a feat.”

Hiro nodded. “I’ll let the Historian take up the story.” The skunk went to retake his seat as a canine with husky features and fur stood up, and the planet was replaced by a three-view of the ship.

The husky gestured at the projection as blocks of text appeared beside the image. “From what the ‘Conducator’ told us, their ship was the Tau Beta. Records show a ship by that name registered to Trans-Stellar Spaceways out of Alpha Centauri and en route to Verity when it was declared missing,” she said. A wistful smile crossed her features. “Shen Fenghuang class. I recall building a model of this type ship when I was a girl.”

“Double-expansion sodium reactors?” the Naval representative asked. “No wonder they had to use solar panels. We haven’t used those in hyperdrive applications for decades.”

“We may have problems, Mari,” the Sociologist said to the kangaroo, “based on a few clues in the recordings.”

“Yes, Erik?”

“Uh huh. Akiko, if I may?” The husky stood aside and a simulacrum of an image from the original distress call appeared, the members of Tempest’s Council enlarged to life size, to replace the lost ship. “First, look at the clothes,” the gray tabby said. “They don’t belong in them.”

The skunk, the Planetologist, chuckled. “They don’t fit. That gorilla femme – “

“Apart from that,” the feline said after the laughter had died down. “They don’t belong to them. These are mementoes, to be worn rarely if at all. The climate’s temperate, so it stands to reason that they don’t wear clothes at all – recall Captain d’Estcourt’s report. Also, listen to this.” He tapped a few spots on his padd, and the images were replaced with the simulacrum of the colony leader.

The tall, elderly deer said, “I am Conducator Ion Calibanescu, of the Firstclass Tribe, Portside Clan – “ The tabby paused the image there. “Did you hear that? Tribe and clan appellations. This society’s reverted to a very simple level, probably because the tech they had with them on the ship no longer worked or didn’t fit the milieu. But if it’s broken into tribes and clans, we will have to be very careful when we make contact.”

“Cargo culture, Rick?” Mari asked.

“I’d hesitate to say that it’s regressed that far,” he assured the kangaroo, “but we certainly can’t pluck them off Tempest and put them somewhere else, even if they don’t invoke self-determination. We’ll have to see, and tailor our approach accordingly.”

Mari nodded. The holoprojector stopped and the lights came back up slowly to give everyone’s eyes the chance to adjust. “We need to get our teams ready. Commander?” she asked the fossa, “is the Expedient ready?”

The officer nodded. “I’ll alert the crew and make sure our supplies are all loaded. What category of lander do we need?”

“Multirole,” she said. “While we’re talking, I want techs in the water and on the ground. If they elect to stay, I want to take the planet apart to make sure that they can survive after we leave.”

“Got it.”