Humans Don't Hibernate [Part 19/?] (Patreon)

“...1”

I’d forgotten what the first jump drive activation truly felt like. For days following it I had just assumed that it was because the experience had been marred and completely overridden by the utter chaos that was the bridge as it was caked in firefoam and the acrid smell of burnt electronics. I had assumed that the overstimulation was what had caused me to overlook, if not entirely forget, what should have been an ethereal experience.

Entering and exiting a wormhole wasn’t something that any Vanaran in history had ever attempted, and so, I had assumed that with this jump, I’d finally be able to experience it without any of the chaos and any of the distractions of our prior jump drive activation.

As the seconds ticked by, my eyes continued to be fixated on what was so clearly an impossible sight… the contours and fabric of space itself broken and jagged, with depth and perception completely meaningless in the empty void that lay therein… the ship slowly lurching forward at a mind-numbingly slow speed, as we were seemingly consumed by darkness, only to exit it without much fanfare.

It… felt as if we had landed in the same space, the stars were different, certainly, but to the naked eye it looked practically identical to where we started off.

Indeed, I felt nothing, not the characteristic buzzing and vibrations from a warp drive activation, or the gut-churning lurching of a hyperspace jump, just nothing. It felt eerily like we had just moved from one place to another on sublight drives alone… and when I thought about it, that honestly was the case with the jump drives wasn’t it?

All it was, was the artificial creation of two tears in space, the ship merely traveling through it as if it were any other point in space.

This revelation didn’t necessarily bother me as my focus shifted towards the elephant in the room, and the pressing concern that was this great unknown that had muddied the waters of what the reality we had so carefully pieced together over the past few days.

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Upon entering the system we were immediately pinged by the satellite in question. A flurry of announcements repeating warnings of unauthorized tampering filled the tactical table as our scanners picked up a singular, lone vessel that had practically docked alongside the satellite, or rather, held the satellite right up against the underside of its hull.

The ship, unlike the Interloper vessels we had encountered prior, was decidedly human in appearance. Its long, trapezoidal shape tapering towards a fine edge was reminiscent of our own vessel’s design and make, with a few key notable exceptions which heavily hinted at the idea that it did not belong to our era. Indeed, the more time our visual scanners had to focus on the details of the vessel, the more the differences started to stack. Its armor was practically seamless, an uninterrupted piece of metal that looked as if it was one solid mass, rather than the distinct tile-like armor plating of our vessel. Its engines, if they could even be called that, were but large cylinders seemingly strapped onto the sides of an otherwise elegant design. There were no open exhausts, no visible heat signatures on any of the electromagnetic spectrums Vir had been cycling through. Indeed, the only notable signature that seemed to be present was an unusually high concentration of gravitational anomalies directly behind and around the vessel.

As the scans continued, these anomalies started to show a certain pattern, a series of gravitational vortices that formed ripples behind the vessel… as if it were using gravity itself as a propulsion method.

Further observation however did not reveal any markings indicative of the UN emblem so prominently featured on our vessel, but instead, what seemed to be a stylized logo resembling a four pointed star, with a planet, and its moon superimposed behind it.

“Do you recognize any of those symbols, Vir?” I inquired, as the AI continued the endless barrage of scans without pause.

“No. At least not from the databases I currently have. Though I must point out, those two symbols behind the four-pointed star are a stylized representation of Earth and its moon. Combine this fact with its design and layout, and we might actually be dealing with a human ship from this era? Or maybe…”

Vir’s postulations were rudely interrupted however by a flurry of alarms as the ship suddenly detached from the satellite and began its approach toward our general direction.

Yet unlike the prompt and immediate actions Vir had taken previously, our ship still remained uncharacteristically still, refusing to perform any evasive maneuvers, or to even move from its current position “Vir, why aren’t we taking evasive maneuvers?” I asked nervously, as my eyes rapidly switched back and forth between the tactical table and the live feed of the unknown vessel.

“Because I’m hedging a bet here.” The AI responded immediately, his voice now tinged with a hint of concern, but otherwise remained calm and composed.

“What bet? Shouldn’t we at least try to maintain a gap between-”

“That ship’s marked as human. Or at the very least it’s Earth-affiliated. It’s definitely way more advanced and capable than our own, and if we start posturing, even if it’s just to maintain a gap between us, it might trigger a hostile response.” The AI concluded, as I paused to take that in, and nodded.

“And supposing they are what we think they are, if they see another human ship, of impossibly old vintage and design, bearing the human flag, suddenly performing evasive maneuvers the moment they get close to us… that might elicit unwarranted suspicion?” I added, cocking my head.

“Precisely.” Vir nodded back, to which I retorted with a simple, decidedly obvious question.

“Then why don’t they hail us first, Vir?”

The AI paused at this question as I saw the ship’s engines roaring to life, only to die down within seconds of its activation. Vir was clearly doubting his own logic here, but seemed adamant on sticking with it.

“We’re tens of thousands of years apart, technologically. Humans aren’t Vanarans, Lysara. Backwards compatibility can only go so far, and given the state of their ship, don’t you think that traditional communications might be a bit difficult?” Vir retorted, the uncertainty that had been there before growing with each word as I shrugged in response.

“Fair point. It’s not like we could do much given we don’t even know what we’re up against.” I tapped at one of the holograms in front of me, the scanners that were supposed to give us a detailed breakdown of the other ship’s tactical and technical readouts displayed nothing, clearly incapable of piercing whatever advanced countermeasures the other vessel possessed.

We watched in equal parts dread and restrained hope as the vessel positioned itself just under a hundred or so kilometers away from our bow. It was here that we started to feel the latent effects of whatever gravitic systems it had, as I felt the artificial gravity within the bridge starting to fluctuate just enough to be noticeable. It didn’t necessarily bother me all that much however, as gravitic fluctuations were commonplace on Vanaran stations and vessels given the sheer effects of wear and tear over prolonged periods of hibernation.

“We should maybe try going through every frequency we have? See if they’re trying to hail us.” I offered, to which Vir turned to me with a concerned expression.

“I’ve been debating that. Opening up comlines and openly scanning for frequencies lends itself to some serious threats. So if this ship is as advanced and far along as we think it is, who knows what e-warfare suites it has that could jack the comlines and completely knock us out just like that.” Vir emphasized his point with a sharp clap of his mechanical hands.

It didn’t take me more than a few seconds before I realized the true implications of the threats he was discussing.

“And by us, you don’t just mean the ship. You mean you, right?” I asked back as my head frills started to flare in concern.

“Yeah. That’s more or less exactly what I mean.” Vir chimed back with a single nod.

I took a moment to weigh our options, standing there as I stared blankly at the supposedly ‘human’ ship before us, as a thought swiftly entered my mind. “Can’t you temporarily leave the ship’s computers to hop back into that platform-”

“Fuck no! I’m not getting back in that thing!” The AI snapped back instantly, indignation, resentment, and a hint of anger clearly synthesized through his vocoders as he stood there defensively with his arms crossed. As quickly as that fiery snap of annoyance and frustration started however, so too did they cool back down, as the AI continued in a regretful tone. “I… I can’t go back. I’d rather take the risk.”

“If it’s that much of a risk then we’re not going to do it, Vir.” I put my foot down, my eyes staring straight between his optics.

“But there really isn’t much of a choice anyways. Think about it. Even if I do migrate back into the platform… then what? If they take over the ship, it’s game over regardless.” Vir finally laid out our circumstances plain and simple. “That is… if they even want to hack us of course. They could just want to talk, who knows.” He sighed. “The fact is Lysara, you have a point in opening up comlines and scanning for frequencies, and I agree that’s our only option moving forward. I just wanted you to know the risks involved before we move forward with this, and to understand and prepare for whatever might happen next.”

Contrary to how I would have acted just a few days ago, I simply nodded in agreement. The situation was clear, the threats and risks laid out were self-evident, there was little more to discuss as the path forward was obvious now. “I’ve never been a risk taker prior to all of this.” I announced, maintaining that eye contact all the while. “But I guess the past few days have really done a number on me. Alright. You’ve made your point Vir. Let’s do it.”

“That’s the human spirit.” Vir chimed back as the process began in earnest. My eyes were fixated not only on the ship dead-ahead, but by the unending stream of frequencies Vir was going through before finally, it stopped.

A soft, lone, ping resonated throughout the entirety of the bridge, followed by a sharp flare-up of static that didn’t seem to phase Vir at all. I took that as a good sign.

“We’re picking up a feed, audio-only. No signs of foul play for now. Let’s see what they have to say.” The AI announced, giving me the brief rundown before another voice, a decidedly human blared through the bridge’s speakers.

“-repeat. This is the Endless Transgression. Identify yourselves.”

Shock. That was perhaps the only way of truly summing up our feelings at that given point in time. Shock and a complete sense of disbelief washed over the both of us as Vir got to work on verifying the authenticity of this message.

There was an unspoken mutual understanding between Vir and I regarding the fate of humanity up until this point. We never really addressed it in length, but if the air in the room was anything to go by, it was clear that our hopes weren’t that high when it came to humanity’s fate, and the legacy they left behind. Why else were we left abandoned, at the whims of the Interlopers? Why else were the Interlopers even still alive if humanity was still around?

The existence of this other human ship had muddied the waters of that mutual understanding. It brought so many questions to the forefront with little in the way of answers.

However, if we played our cards right, there was a good chance that much of our questions would be cleared up for good right here and right now.

“We’ve detected direct comline access on subspace frequency LT-95, so I will repeat myself only once more. This is the Endless Transgression broadcasting on all frequencies to the unidentified vessel of pre-Ascendancy make and model. Identify yourselves or we will be forced to assume hostile intent.”

Vir was quick to pick up the microphone, which given the situation was appropriate given his vast experience with the humans.

“This is the United Nations Auxiliary Forces Ship Perseverance, identification code AFS-209-12-9387. We are observing neutral posture and intent, over.” Vir spoke over the comms.

I expected an instant response from the other ship, or at least a prompt one… but none came. It took a total of 93 seconds before we heard a response, and at that point my head frills had practically receded back into my scalp.

“Point of clarification required. State your affiliation: United Nations or United Ascendancy.” The voice spoke, this time I could hear something other than the firm rehearsed speech of a military officer… I actually heard an undeniable tone of unease as Vir’s expression shifted to that of utter confusion.

Author's Note: Hey guys here's the chapter I really hope you guys enjoy, I spent a lot of time on this one as it kicks off a lot of the ensuing plot in this arc! :D