Those ships were clearly of human design, Argall realized after another moment of staring at the three dimensional images. He'd seen such designs before, many of them among the wrecked vessels in the Scrapyards. Or, at the very least, Argall had seen very similar designs before. The ones in the image had clearly been heavily modified for greater durability and fire power as the overall size of them were double the ones Argall had seen, the number of weapons similarly given a potent increase. These were vessels of war, Argall noted immediately, while the ones he'd seen, surveyed, and studied on this world were likely merchant vessels, given their light weapons and general lack of armor.
Sector 3 was a solar system that was comprised almost entirely of gas giants, an anomalous sort of formation, orbiting a main sequence star. There were a total of four planets in the system and none of them were good for anything – at least, none of them held anything of value for the Hyperboreans, under Argall's leadership. But, perhaps, a more primitive ship that still made use of jet propulsion may be able to harness the gas giants for an ungodly amount of fuel. Argall wondered if these ships had energy shields at all. More importantly, Argall wondered how they achieved faster-than-light travel, given their obvious low-tech means of basic propulsion.
Argall's eyes narrowed. Quite a few of the ruined vessels in the scrapyards did possess a means of faster-than-light travel, but their methods were... concerning, forcibly opening unstable portals to other dimensions and using AI to chart everything for them. Argall wasn't even sure how that worked, since logs indicated the presence of incredibly hostile extra-dimensional energy creatures, necessitating the need for something called a Gellar Field. Very dangerous. Very unstable. Argall still had the designs in his mind and he was never going to build any of them. Any faster-than-light engine that relied on inherently unstable variables was too dangerous to be fabricated.
There were ten of the "alien" ships in total, each one about the same size and shape, regardless of the subtle differences in design and color, custom jobs most likely, meant to represent differing cultures, perhaps, or simply the personal tastes of their commanding officers; it mattered little. The base technology of the ships were identical and, therefore, it was likely these were a united people, at the very least, even if he found no unifying symbol or insignia.
Each ship was nearly five kilometers in length and almost half that in width and diameter, easily capable of fitting millions of souls in cramped corridors. Was this a merchant fleet of some kind? Or, perhaps, were they pirates and marauders? Such things certainly would be present in the greater galaxy. But, hopefully, that wouldn't be the case.
"We're gonna need better footage," Sereen said from beside him as she too surveyed the images. And that was, perhaps, the biggest problem. "Drawing any reasonable conclusion from any of this is going to be a mess."
Argall nodded in agreement. "One of the latest unmanned space vessels makes use of the magnetic propulsion engines for void travel, powered by a miniaturized fusion reactor. I'm going to send it right out, just to see what we might be dealing with. On that note, however, I believe that, unless these... visitors make their way towards the Hyperborean System, then I see no reason to initiate First Contact, especially not when both our navy and our military are far from ready to engage in any sort of warfare. We technically don't even have warships just yet."
"You might wanna hasten production and training, then," Sereen said, her eyes narrowing just before she leaned back and away from the images. "There's a big chance that these guys will just float away. The Hyperborea System is over ten light years away and it's not like there are traces of us there."
"I've already hastened the production," Argall said, frowning. He'd did just that the moment he received the message that aliens had been spotted. He'd been complacent for long enough and his people had prepared for long enough. At the very least, everyone knew what was coming. Every single Hyperborean knew for a fact that the peace in which they prospered in now was a fleeting thing, which was why many of them were so eager to shed their base humanity to become something greater, to become superhumans. The time for war was coming very soon. It didn't mean they'd be warring against these visitors, in particular, but Argall knew in his heart that a time of great chaos was coming. "And, you're right, the chances of them ever finding us if we do nothing are quite low, actually. Off the top of my head, there's a 5% chance, at best, that they accidentally stumble into our system – and that's assuming they don't stumble into any of the territories of the Necron Lords who serve Phaeron Khoteph, which would be disastrous for them as, by Phaeron Khoteph's admission, his subordinate lords aren't nearly as friendly or as courteous as himself."
Even now, hard-light rifles and powered exoskeletal armored suits were being fabricated by the hundreds. The Hyperboreans were all trained to fight, since birth, all of them given the same basic training and discipline, taught to follow commands by superior officers and to wield the weapons given to them. After basic training, which ended at the age of fifteen, there were many who forged onward and either became a military or naval officer. Hence, switching to a war-economy was as easy as flipping a switch.
The only exceptions being the Nomads, but Argall honestly didn't care too much for them as they kept to themselves.
With a simple, mental command, a single, unmanned vessel broke off from the space port, Nareena, and flew off into the void, a live-feed of everything around it appearing on a large screen in front of them, displaying a vibrant sea of stars, each one wheeling overhead as the drone surged forward. Sereen's eyes widened. "How fast can it fly?"
"Right now? It's moving at about ten thousand kilometers per hour and increasing steadily," Argall answered. "Once we're at a safe distance, I'll engage the Fold-Drive and speed won't matter anymore."
The Fold Drive was... Argall's rudimentary imitation of the Necron Inertia-less Drive, which allowed their ships to speed up indefinitely, quite literally breaching the speed of light through brute force. Argall... didn't know how that worked and, try as he might, he could quite understand the technology that allowed for such a thing to even happen. Perhaps, given centuries of study, he might just crack it, but Argall didn't have that sort of time. And so, he created the Fold Drive, which was derived from the Warp Drive. Only, instead of opening a portal to some weird dimension, filled with strange energy creatures, the Fold Drive used a similar principle to 'fold' space, allowing a vessel to move much-much 'faster' than it should, by virtue of the surrounding space becoming shorter. Trips that would take several weeks with the magnetic propulsion engine would now take only a single week.
Still incredibly slow by Argall's standards, but at least no longer sluggish by interstellar standards.
"Do you think the aliens will still be there by the time this drone arrives?" Sereen asked. And, at that, Argall could only shrug.
"It'll take several weeks for the drone to actually reach Sector 3." Argall answered. That was a pretty good question, actually. And, unfortunately, due to the nature of interstellar travel as it was for him, the answer was a lot less than what he'd have otherwise wanted. "I'd say maybe two weeks, at least. Chances are, they're probably not gonna be there anymore. But, if they are stopping to refuel and it seems like they are, then I'm willing to wager that they'll still be there."
"What about the initial probe that took the first images?" Sereen asked. "Surely, it can still be controlled?"
Argall shook his head. "That was one of our very first probes, unpowered and uncontrolled. All it does is float in one direction and take dozens of images every few seconds."
"Do you think the aliens might've noticed it?"
"Hardly," Argall said. "That device barely has an energy signature and, even then, it's no larger than a human head. I doubt they'll ever take notice of it."
"Whatever the case," Argall finished. "I'm going to be declaring a state of national emergency. We're switching to a war-economy and, as soon as it's possible, arming every single civilian. Our first fleet should be finished in a week, especially now that I've dedicated every single Builder Bot to assist in the Nareena Shipyard. Fifteen ships: one battleship, three cruisers, eight frigates, and three hunter-killers. Should be enough to neutralize our 'visitors' if they prove hostile. If nothing else, our technology is greater and more advanced than theirs could ever be. Our ships will be faster too – more agile, more maneuverable. And, with the Hard-light Cannons, we can pick them off from immense distances."
"If this turns bloody, we're not going to lose – not at all." That wasn't even mentioning the fact that Phaeron Khoteph would step in to defend them in the very unlikely scenario that the visitors reached their homeworld. Or that many of the surrounding planets in the nearby systems were, in fact, the domains of powerful Necron lords.
"Alright," Sereen nodded. And then, her watch started beeping and she smiled. "Looks like I'm off for brunch with my grandkids. See you later, Argallator."
"See you soon; make sure not to die of old age before we can eat lunch tomorrow, okay?" Argall chuckled and waved his sister goodbye. Now, there were about a thousand things he needed to prepare and very little time. First and foremost, he needed to inform the people of just what was happening and what was expected of them.
Argall breathed in and turned to his desk, where an old and faded picture of his mother and father stood. Argall took the framed picture and smiled. They looked so happy here – so normal, so... mundane. "Thank you... mom... dad... for raising me as you did. Otherwise, I would not have found the strength to lead my people. I feel like war's coming over the horizon, probably not against these visitors, but against something far greater. I hope I'm ready. Dad... I hope you come back soon. I could really use some guidance."
About two weeks later, the stealth probe finally sent the images he'd been waiting for. Now, Argall stood, Sereen by his side, accompanied by all the leaders, generals and admirals, who were to be informed of any development regarding the issue with the alien visitors, alongside the top scientists from every field. After all, Argall mused, the whole point of this was to eventually pass over the reins of governance to the people themselves. He didn't want to rule them forever. He didn't want to become some eternal overlord. He just wanted to be in a laboratory, creating and designing wonders.
The new images were far clearer, revealing even more details than the last one.
The vessels were, in fact, siphoning thousands of tons of gas from the gas giants, likely for fuel. However, one peculiar thing that Argall immediately noted was that the ships were... damaged – heavily damaged, in fact. Some of them looked just about ready to fall apart at an infant's touch. It was clear, as well, that the damage came from weapons. These vessels were likely the tattered remnants of a once mighty fleet, here to lick its wounds.
"Well," Sereen was the first to voice her thoughts. "They're definitely not here to invade us; that's for sure. And definitely not with those ships."
The rest of the civilian, military, and naval delegates nodded in agreement. Honestly, Argall mused, a single cruiser could probably deal with the entire fleet. But, Argall wasn't going to say anything until the 'normal' humans decided to ask for his advice on the matter. He wanted them to make a decision on their own, whenever possible.
"Should we try to initiate First Contact?" One of the Admirals brought up. Thus far, Argall mused, there were two admirals and two generals – two fleets, the other still under construction, and two legions of soldiers, one for each general. "They're practically harmless."
Sereen occupied a very unique position among them, Argall mused. She technically held no office, but her word was highly respected, the same as his mother, Nareena, who lived in relative obscurity, but was revered among the Scrappers of old. So, when his sister spoke, every single delegate listened. "I say we try to initiate First Contact through drones. That way, if they prove hostile, no human life is wasted. No one gets hurt."
Argall smiled and leaned back as the delegates discussed and debated. Two sides popped up, he noted; one side, led by Sereen, wished to initiate contact, while the other wished to simply observe and learn without initiating contact. Personally, Argall was in favor of the latter group. There was very little to gain from these stragglers. But, ultimately, he'd respect whatever decision they managed to arrive in; it was only right, after all.
AN: Chapter 30 is up on (Pat)reon!