Near Future: What of the Iconians?
2703
Leonis Nebula
Northern Fringes of Typhon Expanse
The hulking ship emerged from the Leonis Nebula, its dark grey hull reflecting back the nebula’s brilliant colors. Nearly twenty more followed, each nearly as big as twenty-five Galaxy-class Starships combined. They followed after the first, slowly coasting through space, as if they had no real incentive of where it was that they wanted to go.
Inside the first, their leader gazed at their viewer, which spanned nearly the entire length of the command bridge. He was tall, and slightly frail-looking with age. As was the rest of his species, his head was long, looking for all the world like a Terran squid, only with a rounded edge, and not a spearheaded one. He had whiskers along his mouth, like short tentacles, and his eyes on either side of his head were small and dark. His skin was a pale grey, and when he finally spoke, while his voice was in a way, quiet, it also commanded attention.
“K’leh Tyan, what do our sensors show?” he asked.
A younger one stepped up to him. “Erahn the Wise, our sensor show that there are no longer any habitable planets that are not occupied, throughout even the entire galaxy.” He gestured to the viewer, and it morphed to show a map of the galaxy, Divided into different colored sections. “Each color represents a different power, as far as we can tell, according to species, settlement and ship styles, as well as residual energy trails that seem to map out rough borderlines, most likely from border runners.”
Erahn nodded slowly. “Which of these seems the most likely to receive us without much protest?”
K’leh Tyan sighed softly. “Well, master, our sensors indicate that that it is within the Alpha Quadrant, in the area coded in blue, as you see on the screen, that would at least be unlikely to provide much resistance. They are weak in ship strength.”
“Thank you, my child. But let us hope that it does not come to a battle,” Erahn murmured.
* * *
“President Gafvin!” The Federation president turned to see his secretary burst into his room, flustered, out of breath, and very much afraid.
“What is it, Joshua?” Gafvin asked, looking over the man.
“The-the, the sensors near Vulcan have picked up the presence of a huge fleet, that, well, it just appeared out of nowhere!” Joshua hastily handed him a PADD. “According to the sensors, those ships are downright massive! There is no way we could mobilize our fleets in time, if they’re hostile, and even if we could, there is no way we could possibly destroy them. Other then their mass, our sensor could not pick up much more then that. That has led us to believe that they have very strong shields, not to mention whatever firepower they could be packing.”
Gafvin stared at him, appalled. “Dammit, man! Get me the Vulcan High Council!” He ushered Joshua out of his room, and down the hallway. “I want them to try and make contact with these beings. Whoever they are, I want them to know that we would be happy to keep any interactions peaceful.”
* * *
“Erahn the Wise, there is an inferior bandwidth of noise attempting to contact us. It is weak and garbled, as if it is trying to connect to our old communications relays.”
Erahn looked curiously at the K’yar. “Can you boost its frequency?”
“Of course, Highest One, however, when we do so, we are unable to understand what is said.” The K’yar rolled her small shoulders, almost as if it was a shrug. “Should we put it on viewer?”
“Yes.”
When the beings appeared onscreen, he was not quite as surprised at what he saw as he should have been. He remembered the old scans of this planet, which they had dubbed Crys’tilan, that his ancestors had conducted, and the creatures then on the planet were quite similar to this one, if not much more animalistic as it was then very low in its evolutionary state.
He was broad-shouldered, with pointed ears, and dark hair. It spoke clearly and boldly, but unfortunately, it was nothing Erahn understood. He turned to the K’yar who had spoken before. “My daughter, is there a way to incorporate our translator for these beings?”
She shook her head. “No, master, not that they would understand. Perhaps a visual image might be used for communications, at least for now.”
Erahn flicked his whiskers. “No. That would be too easily misunderstood. What of the Changelings? Perhaps their old language, from our time, is close to that of what they use in this day and age. No doubt these people have made contact with the Changelings. If they can understand them, perhaps we can start there.”
“Very well, Highest One. The translator has been set.”
“Greetings, we are the Iconians. We mean no harm to you,” Erahn said
At first, the Crys’tilan being looked slightly confused, and turned away, as if to consult with someone. After several moments, the being turned back to him, almost looking amazed. “Greetings, Iconians,” the man said in a strained, slightly garbled version of the Changeling language Erahn knew. “We the Vulcans is, welcome space to Federation.”
Erahn’s whiskers twitched in amusement at the Vulcan’s muddled words. “We thank you, Vulcan. Is there a leader we can speak to?”
The Vulcan thought a moment, as if trying to decipher his words. “Yes, President Federation have, Earth is on,” the Vulcan struggled to string the words together correctly. “Transmit will coordinates to you.”
Erahn blinked his eyes, a gesture of surprise as the transmission cut off. He looked around at his people on the command bridge. “They are very trusting—too trusting. It will be there downfall.”
“Indeed, master,” K’leh Tyan agreed. “But perhaps they have found our gateways? If they know of us, that could be their reasoning. After all, Highest One, you saw the look on the Vulcan’s face when you mentioned our name. It is possible the remnants we left behind reassured them.”
“Very true, my son,” Erahn said.
“Coordinates received, Erahn the Wise,” the K’yar announced. “‘Earth’ is Ih’onjinn III, Onjinn system.”
“Very well, K’yar. Relay coordinates to the navigation computer.”
“Coordinates entered. Launch: now. Arrival in twenty seconds.”
Erahn watched as the catastrophic smears of hyperwarp speeds bled across the viewer. While Tyan had been correct, it still worried him that these people of the “Federation” were so trusting. It was folly, to him.
“Arrival… now.”
The fleet dropped out of warp in a flash of light, on the fringes of the standard orbit of Ih’onjinn III, “Earth”. Earth was just slightly murkier then what their records told, and sensors indicated the residue of some atmospheric damage, and bare traces of lingering carbon emissions. Erahn had no idea what this meant for Earth, and was wary of he, or his people, having to be on its surface. Carbon was poisonous to them, or at least other than those small doses of which were already in an atmosphere.
“Scan further. Is there carbon in their troposphere beyond the healthy range?”
“Negative.”
He sighed. “Very good. Can we make contact with—”
“Sir, another primitive communication request.”
Erahn nodded. “Grant it.”
Another being appeared on screen, looking older then the Vulcan, but without pointy ears, and considerably less imposing. His air was an ashen brown, and his narrow green eyes looked very alarmed to see him.
“Translator operative.”
“Greetings, Earth beings,” Erahn said, growing tired of this constant state of greeting. “We are the Iconians, and we mean no harm to you.”
Just as before, it took the “President” a moment to set their own translators to the correct language. “We hope Iconians people of all should peaceful be. Technology yours advanced, yes? Mass sensors only find, shields strong so are.”
Erahn sighed, and flicked his whiskers in annoyance. “Will you transmit us the current Changeling dialect, as well as the programming required for your language?” He couldn’t take much more of this garbled conversation.
“Send you of course will we, but confirm peace must we,” the president assured. “Hostile, no? Yes?”
Erahn laughed at him, a wheezing sound. “Silly Federalist! Would a being truly come out and tell you it is hostile?”
The president turned an odd shade of red, and hastily said, “No, no, but ask still must. Will transmit. Again contact when ready.” The president gave him a short bow, then vanished from the viewer.
Erahn shook his head in disdain. “As I said before, these people are indeed too trusting. It is utter folly.”
“They must be a young civilization, Highest One, if they are so ignorant,” the K’yar offered. “Information received from the Earth beings.”
Erahn nodded. “Very well. Find K’ten Ui, Tyan,” he ordered. “We must be ready to deal with these people.”
* * *
His idea was simple. He would learn the modern version of the Changeling language, which would not be as difficult, then, with the Earth beings’ language programmed into the translator, there would no longer be any discrepancies.
K’ten Ui was not much younger then Erahn himself, though Ui was much more vocal with his complaints about old age.
Ui put a hand on Erahn’s shoulder, and pressed a patch into his arm. “This will protect against any ill-effects from the learner,” he informed him.
“I know what it does,” Erahn coughed at him. “I am not a small child!”
Ui glared at him. “But you would have complained otherwise, about ‘unnecessary precautions’. This way, we can save some time.”
Erahn laughed his wheezing laugh. “Very well, Ui. As long as I will not have to listen to the gibberish these Earth beings and Vulcans have been speaking.”
The learner was simple technology, in contrast with the rest of Iconian mechanics. You were put to sleep underneath it, and it transmitted the needed data to the subconscious, which, for the most part, controls second-nature speech. Erahn doubted that other beings could use it, however, as Iconians were much more receptive to telepathic messages.
Unfortunately, it was not often used, due to the fact that in their previous place of inhabitance, it was not usually needed. It was simply a technology created for the occasional convenience, and perhaps because it had given their technicians something to do.
Within an hour, Erahn had sufficiently had his Changeling vocabulary updated to the modern dialect, and was ready to attempt another conversation with the Federation president.
“Let us try this one more time, K’yar,” he sighed.
The president appeared on-screen once more, and Erahn said gruffly, “Earth being, we wish to resume inhabitance of this galaxy. However, we have found that there are no longer any more habitable planets that have not been claimed.”
“And that’s where we come in,” the president murmured. “That will end up becoming quite the dilemma…” He trailed off, waiting for a name.
“Erahn the Wise,” Erahn answered, an edge of annoyance in his voice. The Iconians had never had to speak with other beings as much as they were doing right now, and even then, they were not doing much.
“Erahn the Wise, yes. Well, us humans unfortunately would have no room on our colonies to sustain the large amount of people that are no doubt housed in your ships. I must also regrettably add that that will most likely be the response elsewhere. The galaxy is far too populated for another civilization to get in an acre of land edgewise.”
“Regrettable,” Erahn agreed. “Very regrettable; for you see, we cannot go back to the place we came from, nor can we live only on these ships for as long as you would have us. We can be peaceful and patient, human. However, we have more then the means to bully through until we get our way. If you cannot make room, then unfortunately, we will.”
The K’yar cut the transmission.
“Enter a course to the nearest system with at least two habitable planets,” Erahn ordered.
