All right - you want a foreign perspective? I've got you covered. The word count is probably going to be tough, to get the character development right, but the story line is dead solid, and the end twist is a beauty. Here's a 1100 word teaser, just so I can stake my claim.
God's Tears
"The Future site of Tsarrnia Mass Drive"
Garrs Tsarrnia admired the artist's holographic rendering that overlooked the construction site. The splintered towers atop the symmetrical rise of the site's landscape looked like something out of a fantasy. And now, looking past the sign to the hive of work crews on the crest of the hill, it was about to become a fantasy come to life. "Everything's on schedule, Sahl?"
"To the second, sir." Tsarrnia's aide consulted his notes. "The housing complex in the valley is in phase 4, and the testing grounds in the Vallari wastes are finished, with equipment shipping in over the next 3 cycles. Things couldn't get any more perfect." Sahl snapped his notes closed definitively.
With that, one of the bulldozers on the hill suddenly, inexplicably disappeared. Within moments, a second earth mover vanished, and the construction crew were scattering from the hill in full retreat.
"What the hell..."
By the time the site alarm wail reached their ears, the entrepreneur and his secretary were in his hovercar, chewing up the distance between themselves and the top of the hill.
Near the top of the mount, Garrs leapt from the vehicle, fighting his way upstream through the crowd of panicked workers. Reaching the crest, he was brought up short by the apparent caldera that had suddenly devoured the hilltop.
It was artificial.
Spars of an ancient superstructure jutted up through fifty feet of fallen earth. The weight of the collapse had uncovered layer upon layer of passageways, an underground city of incalculable age. Garrs mouth opened and closed spasmodically. "Sahl... call somebody..."
"Yes sir." The secretary murmured, as if in a dream. The pair stood there in silence for a long moment, lost in the mystery of the moment. As his employer's last comment filtered into his consciousness, Sahl slowly turned to face him.
"Sir...Who do you call about something like this?"
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Acchis Varrian glanced across the table at the expectant faces of the science council. For two years, his excavation of the alien wreck had been carried out in almost complete secrecy, even from the council members; the Empire had shut down the planet like a vault, to the point of having a warship in constant orbit to forestall the curious. He could tell already that his scant answers were not measuring up to their expectations. He touched the control surface lightly, awaited the next display and soldiered on regardless.
A holographic replica of the caldera floated above the conference table, the alien superstructure glowing starkly red within its depths. Even with the collapsed corridors and crushed decks, it was an architectural marvel.
"Carbon dating places the ship at 43 thousand years old." Varian rotated the display, pointing out areas for inspection.
"There is evidence of complex computer and life support systems, a sublight drive system... massive interior crew space. Perhaps it was a generational migration ship... There are no signs of remains within any of the levels, so we can only assume the vessel was abandoned after the crash."
"And where did the crew go," Anthropology Chief Karchf countered. "If it was a migration ship, there should have been descendants..."
Karchef was obviously still nettled that the assignment wasn't put in his hands. Varrian shrugged.
"Perhaps there was a dieback - they were taken by a disease indigenous to the planet. Maybe the conditions were not completely compatible for the long-term survival of their kind." The archaeologist panned the view outward, and highlighted a number of patches in the general vicinity of the craft.
"The whole area is being torn up for archaeological study - the ship was apparently stripped before it was abandoned - we're hoping that the remains of a nearby colony may answer more questions. But there are other possibilities."
Varrian touched the console, and the superstructure view was replaced by a wire frame terrain map. He gestured across it. "In these enhanced scans, you can see the scar in the planet from the crash landing, running south towards the Pyyyn Mountains. We're hoping to find undisturbed debris buried along that path. But we don't have much hope of finding anything useful - it's been underground too long."
"What do you have that's useful?" It appeared the Minister of Science had run out of patience.
"Damned little," Varrian admitted. "They didn't leave much in the way of written history, and the computer systems are corroded far beyond recovery. We have managed to document some writing samples from the occasional bulkhead or conduit - we've sent them to xenolinguistics, although if our own ships are any indication, those are going to be too specific to be able to reconstruct the language. Some utensils, a variety of dead electronic devices..."
"All we have beyond that is a single symbol." Varrian touched the surface again, and an oddly shaped arrowhead chevron appeared. It's all over down there - doorposts, cargo containers, even costume jewelry." Varrian fished into his pocket an pulled out a small, pitted badge and tossed it on the table.
"And what does that mean?" The minister's comment was supposed to be scathingly rhetorical, but Acchis saw his chance to drive home his agenda for the briefing.
"I can only think of one way to find out. And that is why I am here, gentlemen." He switched off the display, and pressed his pincers to the table. "I request permission to visit the temple on Znarna."
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The temple on Znarna was the sole habitation on the planet, a grey-white dome in the center of a wind blasted red plain. The grit assaulted Varrian's lidless eyes, sending him scuttling to the entrance from the dropship. It was built in this hellish place to provide shelter for those few chosen pilgrims the Science Council allowed to visit, and to protect the ancient altar discovered on the planet's surface. He shook the sand from his shell and entered the airlock.
In the center of the vast dome stood a weathered crystalline structure of obvious antiquity and alien origin. Oddly organic and inorganic at the same time, it silently commanded the temple that surrounded it. Spotlights played dully off its inert surface. His footsteps slapped flatly against it without response.
With a growing feeling of embarrassment, Varrian arrayed his finds before it; twisted pieces of metal, untranslatable symbols etched in metal... he held the chevron up before him, as if the thing could somehow see.
"I.." Acchis faltered as his voice echoed through the space. "I came to ask about these things..."
"A question..." The voice was disembodied, filling the chamber from all areas at once. Without warning, the crystal structure luminesced and the portal in the center of its body came to life, filling with a mist-like veil of energy.
God's Tears
"The Future site of Tsarrnia Mass Drive"
Garrs Tsarrnia admired the artist's holographic rendering that overlooked the construction site. The splintered towers atop the symmetrical rise of the site's landscape looked like something out of a fantasy. And now, looking past the sign to the hive of work crews on the crest of the hill, it was about to become a fantasy come to life. "Everything's on schedule, Sahl?"
"To the second, sir." Tsarrnia's aide consulted his notes. "The housing complex in the valley is in phase 4, and the testing grounds in the Vallari wastes are finished, with equipment shipping in over the next 3 cycles. Things couldn't get any more perfect." Sahl snapped his notes closed definitively.
With that, one of the bulldozers on the hill suddenly, inexplicably disappeared. Within moments, a second earth mover vanished, and the construction crew were scattering from the hill in full retreat.
"What the hell..."
By the time the site alarm wail reached their ears, the entrepreneur and his secretary were in his hovercar, chewing up the distance between themselves and the top of the hill.
Near the top of the mount, Garrs leapt from the vehicle, fighting his way upstream through the crowd of panicked workers. Reaching the crest, he was brought up short by the apparent caldera that had suddenly devoured the hilltop.
It was artificial.
Spars of an ancient superstructure jutted up through fifty feet of fallen earth. The weight of the collapse had uncovered layer upon layer of passageways, an underground city of incalculable age. Garrs mouth opened and closed spasmodically. "Sahl... call somebody..."
"Yes sir." The secretary murmured, as if in a dream. The pair stood there in silence for a long moment, lost in the mystery of the moment. As his employer's last comment filtered into his consciousness, Sahl slowly turned to face him.
"Sir...Who do you call about something like this?"
----------------------------------------------------------------
Acchis Varrian glanced across the table at the expectant faces of the science council. For two years, his excavation of the alien wreck had been carried out in almost complete secrecy, even from the council members; the Empire had shut down the planet like a vault, to the point of having a warship in constant orbit to forestall the curious. He could tell already that his scant answers were not measuring up to their expectations. He touched the control surface lightly, awaited the next display and soldiered on regardless.
A holographic replica of the caldera floated above the conference table, the alien superstructure glowing starkly red within its depths. Even with the collapsed corridors and crushed decks, it was an architectural marvel.
"Carbon dating places the ship at 43 thousand years old." Varian rotated the display, pointing out areas for inspection.
"There is evidence of complex computer and life support systems, a sublight drive system... massive interior crew space. Perhaps it was a generational migration ship... There are no signs of remains within any of the levels, so we can only assume the vessel was abandoned after the crash."
"And where did the crew go," Anthropology Chief Karchf countered. "If it was a migration ship, there should have been descendants..."
Karchef was obviously still nettled that the assignment wasn't put in his hands. Varrian shrugged.
"Perhaps there was a dieback - they were taken by a disease indigenous to the planet. Maybe the conditions were not completely compatible for the long-term survival of their kind." The archaeologist panned the view outward, and highlighted a number of patches in the general vicinity of the craft.
"The whole area is being torn up for archaeological study - the ship was apparently stripped before it was abandoned - we're hoping that the remains of a nearby colony may answer more questions. But there are other possibilities."
Varrian touched the console, and the superstructure view was replaced by a wire frame terrain map. He gestured across it. "In these enhanced scans, you can see the scar in the planet from the crash landing, running south towards the Pyyyn Mountains. We're hoping to find undisturbed debris buried along that path. But we don't have much hope of finding anything useful - it's been underground too long."
"What do you have that's useful?" It appeared the Minister of Science had run out of patience.
"Damned little," Varrian admitted. "They didn't leave much in the way of written history, and the computer systems are corroded far beyond recovery. We have managed to document some writing samples from the occasional bulkhead or conduit - we've sent them to xenolinguistics, although if our own ships are any indication, those are going to be too specific to be able to reconstruct the language. Some utensils, a variety of dead electronic devices..."
"All we have beyond that is a single symbol." Varrian touched the surface again, and an oddly shaped arrowhead chevron appeared. It's all over down there - doorposts, cargo containers, even costume jewelry." Varrian fished into his pocket an pulled out a small, pitted badge and tossed it on the table.
"And what does that mean?" The minister's comment was supposed to be scathingly rhetorical, but Acchis saw his chance to drive home his agenda for the briefing.
"I can only think of one way to find out. And that is why I am here, gentlemen." He switched off the display, and pressed his pincers to the table. "I request permission to visit the temple on Znarna."
------------------------------------------------------
The temple on Znarna was the sole habitation on the planet, a grey-white dome in the center of a wind blasted red plain. The grit assaulted Varrian's lidless eyes, sending him scuttling to the entrance from the dropship. It was built in this hellish place to provide shelter for those few chosen pilgrims the Science Council allowed to visit, and to protect the ancient altar discovered on the planet's surface. He shook the sand from his shell and entered the airlock.
In the center of the vast dome stood a weathered crystalline structure of obvious antiquity and alien origin. Oddly organic and inorganic at the same time, it silently commanded the temple that surrounded it. Spotlights played dully off its inert surface. His footsteps slapped flatly against it without response.
With a growing feeling of embarrassment, Varrian arrayed his finds before it; twisted pieces of metal, untranslatable symbols etched in metal... he held the chevron up before him, as if the thing could somehow see.
"I.." Acchis faltered as his voice echoed through the space. "I came to ask about these things..."
"A question..." The voice was disembodied, filling the chamber from all areas at once. Without warning, the crystal structure luminesced and the portal in the center of its body came to life, filling with a mist-like veil of energy.