Starship Armstrong - Season 1

Part 36 - "We Come In Peace" (IV)

"There's some serious activity on the surface and- By the stars! I'm detecting something that looks like a... a chemical rocket launch," sputtered Ensign Marceaux.

"Keep scanning it," said Captain Littlecrow "Full spectrum. I want to know what the hell is going on down there. What can you tell me about this 'rocket'?"

"It's reading as a life form, Captain," said Marceaux "That's why we didn't detect it before. It was just part of the forest a moment ago. It's moving relatively slowly for an orbital launch but it will reach escape velocity in a few minutes."

"Where's the Shenzhou?" asked the Captain.

"Just docking now, Captain," said Marceaux.

"I want Mitzner and Dr. Kang on the bridge as soon as they're out of their suits," said the Captain "In the meantime hail the rocket or whatever it is, all frequencies: This is Captain Alexandria Littlecrow of the Huxley Foundation Starship Armstrong. We come in peace."

"Captain," said Gibson "Even on the off chance that this organism is capable of communication, it seems highly unlikely that it will speak Martian."

"We won't know that until we try," said Captain Littlecrow "Who knows what that thing is and who is controlling it?"

"Might I suggest radiogylphs, or perhaps simple patterns of light?" said Gibson "While less precise they would have a wider potential reach than human language."

"Do it," said the Captain "And if anyone else has ideas on how to communicate with this thing I want to hear them."

"Captain," said Gibson "You should consider bringing weapons online, in case this thing proves hostile."

"No," said the Captain "That might undermine everything we're trying to build here. How is it going to make us look if we begin our relationship with a gun pointed to it's head? Keep shields up though; this is a gesture of peace not submission."

For a long while the Armstrong hung in space and bombarded the approaching object with attempts at communication: messages, radiogylphs, repeating patterns of light.

"Still no response," said Marceaux "The object has broken atmosphere."

"On screen," said the Captain.

The object had the basic appearance of a massive shelled nut. The back end of the nut seemed to have been burst open from the inside, forming a hole through which the rocket exhaust shot. It was shaped like a thin football and was almost as large as the Armstrong.

"Is that an alien star ship?" the Captain wondered aloud.

Marceaux's console attempted to warn him of the impending danger, but it detected it far too late. The nut-ship began to loose dozens and dozens of 10-meter-long seeds at relativistic speeds at the Armstrong. They crashed into the shields with tremendous impact, and rapidly began to overload them.

"We're being attacked by some kind of organic mass driver!" exclaimed Gibson, at tactical.

"Shields are losing integrity," said Marceaux "If this keeps up they're going to break through to the hull."

"How much longer will shields hold?" asked the Captain.

"Less than two minutes," said Marceaux.

"Gibson is there anything you can do to increase that?" asked the Captain.

"No," said Gibson "Captain, do I have your order to return fire?"

"Absolutely not," said the Captain "This could be our chance to communicate. If we show that we're non-violent they may call off their attack."

"Or they may kill us all and be done with it," said Gibson.

Mitzner can rushing through the doors and into the bridge in a mad dash. She was still wearing the undersuit for her space suit. Not wanting to get run over by her Gibson relinquished the tactical console as soon as he saw her running towards him.

"Captain," she said the second she got there "Weapons are offline."

"I know," said the Captain "Leave them that way."

The Armstrong shook a little as the shields began to wane.

"Captain," said Marceaux "If we don't either fight back or run we're going to lose our window to do either and survive."

The Armstrong shook again.

"Take us out of here, Lieutenant Guildenstern," said the Captain, reluctantly "0.2 lightyears."

The relativity drive bent space and time in favor of the Armstrong, and it shot off at physically impossible speeds.