Oh look more words.
The lack of dignity in all this toing-and-froing would probably have been too much for any member of House Croesus barring Jarrion to bear, so it was lucky it was him the one doing it and not anyone else. His brother probably would have shot someone by this point, just to demonstrate that his patience was wearing thin.
Returning to the bridge Jarrion settled into his command throne while the others who had accompanied him resumed their positions. All about, the bridge crew maintained their duties.
Jarrion could see the recently-spotted ship on the same pictscreen that the wreck had been on not too long ago. Details of the vessel were hard to make out as the thing was quite small - unsurprising, space and all that - but it was, again, quite obviously unlike any vessel Jarrion had ever seen before.
It rather reminded him of some of the pictures of Eldar vessels he'd seen. Obviously not one, but still. Vaguely reminiscent, if only distantly. All curves and fins. Possibly just his brain groping desperately for even the merest hint of familiarity.
Shaking his head, Jarrion asked:
"Did it just arrive?"
"No Lord Captain. It appears to have been in orbit there for the whole time we have been here, it was just that we were not looking for it and it's rather inconspicuous vessel. It appears to be doing, uh…"
The crew member had no idea what the ship appeared to be doing, and neither did Jarrion.
"Doing something, Lord Captain," the crew member finished, rather lamely, voice trailing off. Jarrion could hardly blame them.
"So they are. Hmm," he said, stroking his chin.
He was acutely aware of everyone on the bridge looking to him to tell them what to do next. Jarrion didn't let this get to him.
"That is a tiny ship. How long is that ship?" He asked.
"Approximately one hundred and seventy meters, Lord Captain."
Jarrion did some quick mental arithmetic. That would make the Assertive somewhere in the region of twenty-six times bigger. Roughly speaking. His eyebrows raised. No wonder it hadn't leapt out to anyone on the bridge. He'd been worried about their attention to detail.
"Tiny! Maybe it's a heavy fighter. Corvette? No, too small..." he said. He looked to Pak to see if they had any input, being the most senior Techpriest on hand. Pak shrugged, again. Jarrion wasn't sure what he had expected, if he was being honest.
Who'd taught a techpriest how to shrug, anyway?
"Would our weapons even be able to target something that small? Hypothetically?"
Always paid to be prepared.
"Our point defence turrets could acquire a lock, were you to require one, Lord captain," said the Master of Gunnery from their station.
That was something, at least.
"Good, good. Don't, just to say. Just good to know," said Jarrion.
"They are hailing us, Lord Captain," spoke up another of the bridge crew.
The strangers had beat him to the punch. No bad thing. At least it definitely showed them to be friendly, or alternatively showed them as open to not being blown to pieces by a Dauntless, which was the first step to friendliness if you thought about it.
"Put it on the main pict screen," Jarrion said, gesturing to the largest of the screens present in the bridge, the one on which the image of the odd spaceship was presently being displayed.
It seemed the most dramatic and theatrical place to put it, given this might well be first-contact with some exciting new species. He put one hand on his hip and held the other out before him, towards the screen. He hoped he looked appropriately impressive and lordly.
"Apologies Lord Captain but it appears to be be audio-only."
Jarrion held his pose a moment longer then let his arms drop to his sides.
"No visual?" He asked. The crewmember worried over their console a moment or two but without any obvious success.
"There appears to be an issue of compatibility with their vessel and ours, Lord Captain. Sorry, Lord Captain."
Jarrion sighed, slumping back into his seat.
"Worse things have happened. Let's hear it."
What filled the bridge was obviously the sound of a human speaking, but it was not anything anyone present could immediately recognise. They all got close, but not quite close enough.
"What language is that?" Jarrion wondered aloud, stroking his chin.
Jarrion had something of a flair for languages. He felt that as a Rogue Trader having a flair for languages would come in handy, so he'd acquired one. The augmetics that replaced one of his ears helped him in this because he'd paid for them to be the kind that helped, but practise did most of the work.
Screwing up his face he sorted through the words he'd just heard, picking out what he could recognise, poking and prodding in his mind. Snapping his fingers and wagging them at the static on the viewscreen he said:
"It sounds like an incredibly debased version of Low Gothic. Play that again for me."
This happened. Jarrion closed his eyes and mouthed the words to himself. Several of the colonies he'd been visiting of late had had their own local dialects, but none as bizarre sounding as this. It was barely comprehensible. Still, there were hints and clues in it that Jarrion was able to latch onto. Structure formed in his head. It was becoming clear.
"My Lord?" Torian prodded, jolting Jarrion out of his reverie.
"Ah, terribly sorry. I imagine they await a response? Hmm...state your identity...Systems Alliance...Commander Shepard...Normandy SR-2? SR-2?" He said to himself, brow furrowing. "I wonder what the SR-2 signifies…"
Jarrion suddenly clapped his hands. Torian gasped and clutched at his chest.
"Well, let's say hello to our inarticulate cousins. Are we broadcasting?" Jarrion asked, leaning forward in his command throne.
"The channel has been open this whole time," Loghain said. She'd decided the best place for her to stand was right next to Jarrion, on the opposite to where Torian stood. He eyed her sideways.
"Great. Many thanks for your input, Inquisitor, very helpful," he said with an acidity that she brushed off completely. Jarrion then cleared his throat, arranged the words in his head, and gave it his best shot in their wierdo, mangled language: "Hello Normandy SR-2, this is Lord Captain Jarrion Croesus of the Assertive. I trust the day finds you well?"
Glad that language barrier wasn't too much of an issue. Handy.