Posted by Gamemaster Nosferatu (Gamemaster) in Main Sim - Bridge
Snip

And somewhere within the bending geometry of space itself, something was listening.

Stella sat there in front of her display. One hand gripping it tightly to keep from flying off somewhere and the other tapping away. Recording something that she didn’t understand but which might be important. Her forehead glistened, both from fear and excitement. She caught the non-random sound and placed it in its own sound file. She tapped her fingertips across the edge of her display. She took a deep breath and whispered to herself. ” Man, I missed Mardi Gras this year!” Turning in her chair then she spoke to the captain. ” Captain sir? I just recoded something which wasn’t random. I’m not sure what it was but it wasn’t just background noise. With your permission I’d like to send their possible message back to them twice as they sent it and then send it to them in reverse so they may understand we are sentient beings at least. It’s the only thing I can come up with in such short time I’m afraid “

Stella Gagnon Lt.jg Comms

“Permission granted lieutenant! Continue all efforts to make contact with them,” the Captain replied.

The Captain continued, “We have no way to defend ourselves against these attacks. They come from a field of science in which we are ignorant. And as the XO implied, attacking them with our conventional weapons would probably have little effect on them, and so is no deterrence to their attacks. We have two options. We must either negotiate with them, or else return home. Right now, I don’t see that second option as failure at all. I told the admiral that this was a mission that demanded several ships, and no Starfleet intelligence mentioned these controlled spacetime curvature weapons or propulsion methods. I believe that those are the reason for the fracture of space within this whole Expanse region itself, and that intelligence itself is worth our little trip inside here. So a change of priorities. I think we ought to forget the mapping exercise as the fractures and eddies of space here will change as frequently as the shape of sand dunes in the desert, and instead concentrate on making First Contact to trying to build up some kind of relationship to make future diplomatic discussions possible. So, put all our efforts now into communication rather than surveying.”

• Glen, CO

At hearing the captain suggest retreat the hairs on the back of Rana’s neck stood up. Retreat? On his first mission out as the XO? He knew that he told the captain that he couldn’t see any way to use their standard weapons, but he had hoped against hope that someone might come up with something else. He took a deep breath. He knew the captain was right. But still. He could only hope that their comms officer was successful.

Rana Singh Number One

At hearing the captain give her the go-ahead Stella began to transmit the signals to the other vessel. Or whatever it was. Twice repeating their own signal and once playing it back to them in reverse so that it made them look like something more than a parrot or something that their signals were just bouncing off of. She sent this three time like this. And after that she began to send numbers along the same wavelength they had transmitted from. Nothing hard. Just one quick beep followed by a silence, and then two, followed by a silence until she had counted out to ten. Stella turned then to the captain and said quickly not wanting to look away from her comm display too long. ” Messages sent captain. Along with a few numbers.”

Stella Gagnon Lt. jg. Comms

“Then let’s hope they play the lottery!” replied the Captain.

• Glen, CO

The bridge of the USS Merrimack held its breath.

Red alert lighting continued to pulse across the command deck, washing the consoles and uniforms in alternating bands of shadow and crimson. Outside the forward viewscreen, the fractured Expanse twisted slowly—stars bent and smeared by the lingering gravitational disturbances that seemed to permeate the region like invisible tides.

The Shiarian vessel remained present, though “present” was perhaps the wrong word.

Sensors still struggled to define it as an object in the traditional sense. Instead, it manifested as a distortion in the stellar backdrop—a region where the light of distant suns curved inward and folded across itself, hinting at mass and structure that conventional scans could barely outline. It did not drift or maneuver like a normal starship.

It simply repositioned, appearing several thousand kilometers off its previous vector without detectable propulsion.

On the communications console, the focused transmission beam from the Merrimack’s dish cut through the chaos of warped subspace like a needle through turbulent water.

The signal Lieutenant Gagnon had isolated—those faint, repeating gravitational modulations buried within the noise—was transmitted back toward the alien vessel. Once. Twice.

Then the reversed sequence followed.

The bridge waited.

The stars beyond the viewscreen seemed to shimmer faintly as localized gravitational harmonics fluctuated. Sensor telemetry displayed minute oscillations in spacetime curvature around the Shiarian craft. The distortion surrounding it rippled in a slow, deliberate wave.

Not an attack.

A response.

The modulation pattern returned.

At first it was faint—barely distinguishable from the surrounding gravitational interference. But as the sensors refined their focus, the signal clarified. The repeating intervals matched the structure Stella had identified earlier, though now the sequence had changed.

The pattern repeated four times.

Then something new followed.

A pause.

A single modulation spike.

Another pause.

Two spikes.

Another pause.

Three.

The sequence continued, steadily building—simple, deliberate pulses propagating through the surrounding gravitational field like ripples on the surface of an unseen ocean.

On the bridge displays, the pattern resolved unmistakably into a progression.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

The alien vessel was no longer merely broadcasting a repeating signal.

It was answering.

Around both ships, the chaotic eddies in spacetime began to calm slightly, the violent distortions that had battered the Merrimack moments earlier smoothing into slower, more stable currents. Structural integrity warnings across several decks eased as the surrounding gravitational stress lessened.

The Shiarian vessel had not fired again.

Instead, the distortion surrounding it expanded outward in a slow halo of bent starlight—almost like a curtain drawing back. For the first time since contact, a faint outline of the craft’s true geometry appeared through the lensing effect: vast, angular planes arranged in impossible orientations, as though the structure existed across several angles of space simultaneously.

It did not approach.

But it did not withdraw either.

The two vessels now hung suspended within the shattered Expanse, communicating not through radio waves or subspace channels, but through the bending of spacetime itself—each pulse a whisper written directly into the structure of the universe.

And for the first time since entering the region, the USS Merrimack was no longer alone in the silence.

Something out there had begun to speak.

GM Nosferatu
Your Darkest Nightmare

Captain

It seemed like forever. Or at least three lifetimes plus a bit more since Stella had finished her second message. She waited there at her comms terminal staring. Listening intently. Willing her ears to pick up something that star fleet machinery could not. Her nerves felt on fire. Each one seemed to reach out to the very edge of her body and want to go further. She tried very hard to hide her feelings, but it was hard. Where her fingernails had once clacked across the console her right and now clenched it in a death grip.

It was then a strand of hair came loose and brushed across Stella’s cheek ever so lightly. She nearly screamed with fright. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she readjusted her hair and then once again adjusted her headset. She supposed that the silence was a good thing. At least the ship wasn’t being torn asunder. She had almost calmed herself down into a normal state when the first of the transmission started to come in. Once again, she jumped and watched the signals go across the screen and said in a wavering voice as she heard them in her headset. Her breath caught. They had sent not only the original signal but the set of base ten numbers as well! Her head spun and she couldn’t seem to breath for a moment. Then she burst out. All energy she said in a quivering voice. “Sir, Captain! We have them! They have answered everything! She cleared her throat then in a clearer voice spoke saying. “Sir they answered all the numbers ten and backward. They understand the base ten number system!”

Stella Gagnon Comms Lt.jg