Nihlus Kryik (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
10minutesofscreentime) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capitalh2014-09-09 10:12 pm
10minutesofscreentime) wrote in capitalh2014-09-09 10:12 pm
Entry tags:
it's raining turians
Who: Nihlus and you! Or anyone, really
What: Yet another goddamn alien arrives
Where: Some relatively secluded and open place in/close to LA
When: Now?? Probably??
Warnings: None
There is a protocol on establishing contact with new (sentient and deemed worthy of the Council's attention) species. The protocol, sadly, is reserved for big ships with crews of more asari and salarians than turians. As for the Spectre protocol, there is, as usual, none.
As usual, Nihlus chose to improvise.
After a couple of days of research as intense as his ship's dwindling resources and his concern for security would allow, he finally decides he's almost ready to go out in the open. The decision is driven more by necessity than his actual readiness - his ship and equipment is running out of power and Nihlus himself is running out of food. The only thing he's not too short on is ammo, which is almost miraculously useless in this situation.
So what happens is this: not unlike another spaceship some time earlier, an obviously alien, unindentified one-man (judging by the size) vessel disables all of its cloaking shields in the sky over LA. It's not much more than a dark spot in the sky at first, but it quickly grows larger before appearing in all its glory (of which there isn't all that much, with how battered the ship is) and landing. The rumble of its engines dies down, and barely a minute later the ship opens as Nihlus steps outside, his omni-tool already running scans of the area (and his gun still strapped to his back - discreet, but readily available).
This world is still new to Nihlus and he blinks a couple of times, vaguely disoriented by how overwhelming it all is. Without his suit's filtration and adjustment systems working (and with several days of minor malnutrition) the air of this world feels too sharp to breathe and the colours of the landscape feel off to his eyes. He shakes his head briefly and reverts his attention to the matters at hand - that is to say, his omni-tool.
His choice of location isn't random - the landing spot is remote enough not to warrant unwanted attention and close enough to warrant wanted attention, as well as providing enough space for maneuver, both on foot and in his ship (in case things take an unfortunate turn). What he is banking on, though, is coming in contact with the authorities or at least people of certain standing to establish his position on the planet (and get some help). The last two days have been spent analyzing the local language (despite being a rather advanced planet, it's still multi-lingual) and according to the computer's estimations, Nihlus should have a fully working (if still incomplete and a bit wobbly) translator in just about--
This is the moment his omni-tool informs him with a quick flash and a beep that energy reserves are at a critical low, and therefore all but most basic and combat functions will be cut access to.
Nihlus can't find anything better to do than swear.
((Tl;dr: there is now a baffled and vaguely annoyed catbird alien in the vicinity. Have your character ever wanted to communicate with an alien using nothing more sophisticated than signing, drawing pictures and repeating words slowly and loudly? This is your big chance!))
What: Yet another goddamn alien arrives
Where: Some relatively secluded and open place in/close to LA
When: Now?? Probably??
Warnings: None
There is a protocol on establishing contact with new (sentient and deemed worthy of the Council's attention) species. The protocol, sadly, is reserved for big ships with crews of more asari and salarians than turians. As for the Spectre protocol, there is, as usual, none.
As usual, Nihlus chose to improvise.
After a couple of days of research as intense as his ship's dwindling resources and his concern for security would allow, he finally decides he's almost ready to go out in the open. The decision is driven more by necessity than his actual readiness - his ship and equipment is running out of power and Nihlus himself is running out of food. The only thing he's not too short on is ammo, which is almost miraculously useless in this situation.
So what happens is this: not unlike another spaceship some time earlier, an obviously alien, unindentified one-man (judging by the size) vessel disables all of its cloaking shields in the sky over LA. It's not much more than a dark spot in the sky at first, but it quickly grows larger before appearing in all its glory (of which there isn't all that much, with how battered the ship is) and landing. The rumble of its engines dies down, and barely a minute later the ship opens as Nihlus steps outside, his omni-tool already running scans of the area (and his gun still strapped to his back - discreet, but readily available).
This world is still new to Nihlus and he blinks a couple of times, vaguely disoriented by how overwhelming it all is. Without his suit's filtration and adjustment systems working (and with several days of minor malnutrition) the air of this world feels too sharp to breathe and the colours of the landscape feel off to his eyes. He shakes his head briefly and reverts his attention to the matters at hand - that is to say, his omni-tool.
His choice of location isn't random - the landing spot is remote enough not to warrant unwanted attention and close enough to warrant wanted attention, as well as providing enough space for maneuver, both on foot and in his ship (in case things take an unfortunate turn). What he is banking on, though, is coming in contact with the authorities or at least people of certain standing to establish his position on the planet (and get some help). The last two days have been spent analyzing the local language (despite being a rather advanced planet, it's still multi-lingual) and according to the computer's estimations, Nihlus should have a fully working (if still incomplete and a bit wobbly) translator in just about--
This is the moment his omni-tool informs him with a quick flash and a beep that energy reserves are at a critical low, and therefore all but most basic and combat functions will be cut access to.
Nihlus can't find anything better to do than swear.
((Tl;dr: there is now a baffled and vaguely annoyed catbird alien in the vicinity. Have your character ever wanted to communicate with an alien using nothing more sophisticated than signing, drawing pictures and repeating words slowly and loudly? This is your big chance!))
no subject
The sentiment remains, as a group of younger runtimes rapidly compile and distribute a list of reasons the turian's arrival is Very Bad. The oldest runtime quietly catalogs this instance as an example of the emotion of irritation before the consensus begins audio transmission.
Legion's voice sounds over a scrambler; it's impossible to identify them.
"Hello. Who are you?"
taking some liberties here/assuming they're both speaking some citadel lang
This transmission confirms his original guess - someone had already travelled through the relay he had discovered. But they haven't tried to return - meaning they either had no means or no intentions of doing it. Could be a crashed ship, could be petty criminals hiding on a suitable world away from Council space. They must have been here for at least some time - either they have enough resources to survive for a long time, or they are a species suited to living on this planet. Even the fact they're using a scrambler could either mean they're expecting trouble, or it could be a simple security measure.
Deciding that revealing his Spectre position might be a hasty move in this situation, Nihlus finally activates his own audio transmitter.
"My name is Nihlus", he informs the mysterious sender. "Who am I talking to?"
me too to be honest
no subject
"I am not," he responds, deciding to keep the information to a minimum for now. Simple answers will do for now, until he can find out more about his conversation partner. "I did not expect there to be anyone from the Council space on this world. Are you a colonist?" he asks, instead, opting for as innocent variant of a guess as possible.
no subject
There is a short pause. "I believe you are turian," 'Gerrin' then adds. "There are very few naturally occurring dextro-amino acid food sources on this planet. It is best you are warned now."
no subject
After a short pause, he speaks up again. "You said you 'observe'. Have you come into direct contact with the native species? I would like to ask a favour of you."
no subject
Legion begins to move towards Nihlus' position, in case the platform needs to intercept. "I have spoken with humans before over local networks. Do you require translation software?"
no subject
"Yes, please. I haven't had the occasion to build a language database of my own yet," he replies. "This planet is multi-lingual, isn't it?"
no subject
sorry for the delay, college keeps happening
"You've mentioned that dextro-amino based food sources are rare on this planet, but it sounds like you've been here for some time. Do you have a stock of your own or are you one of the levo-protein races? Salarian, perhaps?"
no subject
no subject
"I see. Is the native species developed enough to request their assistance? Can you give me any names?"
no subject