First Contact

Chapter Thirty-Two (Dreams)

"Who's a pretty octopus? You are. Yes, you are," Dreams crooned, reaching out with bladearm to offer a piece of raw fish. The small octopus, mottled green and brown with blue rings on it, shyly reached out of the water filled bole of the tree it was hiding in and took the piece of fish with one tentacle, quickly vanishing into the water with its treat.

Surrounding her were high trees, many festooned with moss, dense undergrowth including ferns, moss covered stone, rippling streams, and the sound of an ancient forest. The breeze was light and smelled of growing green things. The light streaming down was silver, filtered through heavy clouds, and the gentle rain pattered on the leaves of the trees.

Dreams sat on the rock and put her right foreleg into the stream, stirring the water. She could see the little fish everywhere, saw them scatter then start slowly scouting her foot out. When a braver one darted forward and nibbled at her armor she gave her species's equivelant of a giggle and pulled her foot free.

The fish scattered.

The chiming of her visitor alert interrupted her contemplation and she gave a human sigh of frustration. Like most of the Terran's allied species she loved the Terran's in-numerous physical speech mannerisms. There was something just joyful in the way they spoke with their entire beings, not just carefully considered speech filtered through a half dozen thoughts.

She closed the 'moss' lid on the tree bole and moved over to sit down as the gentle chime reminded her that someone was waiting to see her. She ordered a tray of snacks, some flavored water, and reached for the control to turn off the enhanced holo-projectors the Terran technicians had installed in her quarters for her. She knew her two guards were still there, hidden by the hard-light holographic images of massive moss covered boulders barely balanced in place, and that everyone in the building was safe from her predatory instincts.

She could feel Mr. Rings's nervousness at someone entering the room and reached out with her mind to soothe him.

Satisfied that everything was presentable, she triggered the door.

The diplomat was nervous as they entered her guest chamber. They took two steps inside and stopped.

Dreams had seen the Unified Whatever Thingy's versions of holograms and had not been impressed. The Unified Science Council had apparently decided, thousands of years ago, that realistic holographs, interactive ones made of hard light, and enhanced holographics were dangerous, that a being might not realize the difference between EHreality and reality. Had worried about accidents or malevolence causing injuries or deaths by misapplication of the technology.

So they had banned it and left their holographs faintly transparent.

The diplomat just stared, shrieking and jumping to the side as a leaf became overloaded with water and tilted, dropping water into the bole of a tree.

Mr. Rings squeezed himself tighter into his nest bole and Dreams felt irritation that the guest had frightened the nervous little creature.

"Come in. I was relaxing. It's just holograms. Terran tech," Dreams said as if it explained it all.

The saurian Shavashan Councilbeing, one Speaker Hashknesh, nervously entered, carefully picking its way across the 'rocks' until she stood next to a flat rock covered with moss.

"It is the same seat you used the last time you were here," Dreams said, flashing a rune signalling that Hashknesh should be reassured. "It's just hidden under a hologram."

Hashknesh nodded and sat down nervously. "I can feel the moss."

"Terran hard-light interactive hologram," Dreams said. "This place is relaxing to me. I came here often during my tenure on TerraSol as an assistant to a diplomat."

"Oh," the Shavashan said. She looked around. "There might be a problem."

"There are always problems, gentlebeing. But, when dealing with Terrans, you get used to it," Dreams chuckled, flashing a rune of amusement.

The Shavashan gave a signal of confusion. "What do you mean?" She couldn't see how one would get used to problems just popping up everywhere at any time, for any reason.

"You have not really interacted with humans," Dreams stated. The Shavashan shook her head and Dreams flashed over a dozen amusement icons. "I spent nearly a decade on TerraSol itself. It is a place of maddening chaos and one disaster piled up on another. It is like watching a being on fire enter your home, leaving flaming footsteps on your prized synthetic floor covering, break your food dispenser, light your nesting bed on fire, accidentally burn down the holosculpture you'd spend months building, only to walk up and say something inane like 'my watch stopped' or 'I accidentally ate your email' and then stare at you as if you can solve the problem it mentioned, completely ignoring that it's immolating."

The Shavashan goggled. "Do humans often spontaneously combust?"

Dreams tried not to burst out laughing. "Not on purpose, well, not often. Sometimes they do. It depends on the human, the situation, and a million other variables that often don't even make sense."

Hashknesh frowned. How could she expect to deal with Terrans if they just randomly burst into flame at odd times.

"It is a metaphor, honored Hashknesh. Just a metaphor, although, in some ways, to a being like me, humans burn so very bright," Dreams tried to reassure her guest. "I've only seen, oh, five or six Terrans suddenly burst into flame. Four of them as a joke."

Hashknesh cleared her throat. "As I was saying, there may be a diplomatic problem."

Dreams had the sudden urge to go into Speaks the Words Others Fear's room and kick the other mantid in the head. He'd comm'd her no less than three hours ago and told her that their hosts were about to perform The Prime Miscalculation.

Ha ha, look at that dumb primate sitting in the sand grunting to itself and looking at the handful of dirt sparkle! Ha-ha, it's so dumb looking,look at how happy it is because it's stupid! Let's run over there and kick it! Dreams thought to herself. Why? What IS it with humans? It isn't their psychic impression. It isn't their size or their musculature or their technology. What is it?

The sudden image of a young human male, a goofy looking expression of happiness on his face as he chewed on a mouthful of crayons with glue around his lips, his eyes clear, guileless, and completely devoid of any worry or concerns about the universe, appeared in her mind.

Oh, yeah, she thought to herself.

The mental image zoomed out to show the Terran youth was clad in full Terran Drop Marine Armor and was eating a lunch pack called "Thumbtacks, Crayons & Glue" while holding enough firepower to slag a large building in his lap.

That's why, she thought.

"Speaker Dreams?" The Hashknesh asked softly. Dreams brought herself back to the subject at hand.

"Go on, I was merely questioning one of the more aggravating questions of the universe," Dreams answered, waving a bladearm.

"The Kilnametik Industrial and Manufacturing Concern was made aware that the Terran Confederate Navy was going to stop the Precursor advance in the Kteshaka'an system in the Unified Outer Rim. That system was granted to the KIMC over five thousands years ago for structured resource exploitation," Hashknesh said. She felt bolder with each words, finally getting used to the slight chill in the air and the face it felt like there was water droplets striking her scales even though she remained dry. "There was a native species there. It had discovered radio array transmission, contacting a nearby star system already under control of the KIMC."

"And of course, the KIMC immediately moved to secure the resources before the native species could exploit them," Dreams interrupted, feeling a surge of disgust.

"Of course," Hashknesh answered, glad the little mantid understood. "For nearly four thousand years the system has been under the supervision and guardianship of the KIMC, using sustainable resource extraction methods."

"And the native species?" Dreams broke in.

"Brought into the fold as an Uncivilized Neosapient Species. They are employees of the KIMC, which acts as their guardians," Hashknesh said. "Legally, the KIMC is their stewards as well as their representatives to the Unified Civilized Councils."

"Computer," Dreams snapped, clicking her bladearms together. She could feel Mr. Rings had heard the clicking and was slowly unwinding, intending on looking out the lid to see if Dreams had a treat for him.

"Yes, Speaker?" The rooms VI asked.

"Access the databanks on the Kteshaka'an native 'neo-sapient' species," She said.

"Accessed," The VI said.

"Access the medical banks, current and archive, put the original DNA strand on my right, the current DNA on my left," Dreams said, thinking calming mantras to herself. "Upload the DNA and genome scan template for that species to my implant."

The two DNA strands appeared, slowly turning, colored to show the proteins.

"Genetic modification," Dreams mused. "Lowered aggression by medulla changes, lowered intelligence by reducing folds and ridges, to say the least."

Hashknesh looked startled that the small mantid had absorbed how the genome was put together that fast, even with the implant. Just having the information at hand didn't mean that one could utilize the information in a useful way.

She felt both of the warborg's disgust and the simmering rage always beneath the surface get a little hotter. She signaled to them that she was all right, that she had known this would come up, that the little trouble-maker Speaks had hinted at it.

"So you wiped out the native sentients and replaced them with these genejacks?" Dreams asked. She shook her head. "The Terran Confederate Genomic Self-Determination Act makes this illegal according to Confederate legal codes."

"But that isn't Confederate territory," Hashknesh answered.

"If it is under control of the Confederate Navy after heavy enemy action, it's Confederate territory through right of conquest," Dreams shot back. "The Confederacy may return it if previous treaties apply or if they are feeling generous, but until it is decided in a court of admiralty law, then the Kteshaka'an system is Confederate territory until the cessation of hostilities."

Hashknesh felt pleasure at the last part. "So, when the battle of over."

"That battle was not the final battle of the war. Over sixty-eight more systems report Precursor incursions, nearly two hundred have gone silent, and nearly five hundred more are suspected of having fallen under Precursor control before I arrived at this planet," Dreams answered. "Hostilities have not ceased," She leaned back against her abdomen. "The war hasn't even really begun."

"What?" Hashknesh frowned. "Your navy is engaged in combat. Of course the war has started."

Dreams shook her head slowly, flashing runes for negation. "No. The Navy, a military service branch dedicated to defense of out systems, as well as the Confederate Quick Reaction Force, has engaged the enemy in order to bring the order of battle into such a state that the Space Force and the entire Confederate military can be brought to bear against the Precursors. Right now there are thousands of ships, heavily armed, fully crewed, heading this way. Volunteer Irregular Forces, colloquially known as "The Idiots" have been unthawed or deputized. The entire Confederate military has been put on full war-time footing according the laws and regulations passed after the Fifth Precursor War."

Hashknesh folded her hands and watched as Dreams cleaned her bladearms, the holorune for patience appearing. Hashknesh noted that Dreams antenna seemed to slowly calm. Finally the rune vanished and Dreams continued.

"You have come in here, in a roundabout way, to tell me that this Kilnametik Industrial and Manufacturing Concern in the Kteshaka'an System is going to attempt to force the Confederate Navy to surrender the system to their control?" Dreams signaled the rune for exasperation. "Are you all mad? The system is still in combat action with several planets still having the Confederate Marines fighting the Precursor machines for control of the planet itself, and your precious KIMC is going to jump into the system with guns clear and demand a Confederate Naval Fleet surrender?"

Hashknesh stared. "Well, yes. The KIMC feels that directly after the battle the humans will be tired and will have undergone severe mental trauma and would prefer not to reengage combat action so soon after finishing a hard battle."

Dreams just stared. "You know nothing of all about humans. Despite everything my office has transmitted to your people, all of the inter-species analysis, the historical information, their physiology, their psychiatric makeup, and you, in your infinite wisdom, thought that threatening humans still covered with the sweat of battle and bleeding from a few dozen minor wounds would make them flee in fear? Did you read nothing my office transmitted you?"

"We are in the process of determining which offices should have the responsibility of not only examining that information, but what to disseminate to the other councils. As it stands, the KIMC fleet intends on pressing the issue if the Terran fleet has suffered at least ten percent casualties during the battle," Hashknesh said, signaling satisfaction. "That is the number any logical being would realize they are no longer battle capable."

"Pardon me, madame Speaker, but it appears I have spontaneously combusted and that is the reason for the unfiltered light causing you distress, please allow me to extend my apologies for breaking your food dispenser. Oh, and my watch seems to have stopped, do you know a good watch repair shop nearby? Was what Dreams thought for a long moment, just staring at the other being.

"Are. You. All. Stupid?" Dreams managed to click out in her own language. The diplomatic filter kicked it back, merely offering up to the other diplomat.

The sudden urge to lash out with her psychic powers, climb up the saurian's back, stand on the shoulders of the stunned creature, then crack open its skull with her bladearms roared up. Her implosion wire tingled and Dreams sat perfectly still, reciting mantras of calm.

Turning her back to the Saurian, Dreams got up slowly, mindful of her armed suicide device, and slowly moved toward the bole of the tree. She stopped next to the stream and looked down at the little fish. The manufacturer of the hard light simulation had been very proud of those little fish, bragging that the fish themselves had their very own custom coded VI to guide their movements and actions.

After a long moment of silence Hashknesh looked around. "This is an elaborate simulation, Speaker."

"It is of a planetary ecosystem anomaly. A rain forest in the northern latitudes of a temperate region of a planet. Far too cool to normally produce the micro-ecosystem needed for a rain forest," Dreams said, still staring at the little fish. "It was painstakingly recreated after it was destroyed."

Mr. Rings poked his head out of the bole just enough for his big expressive eyes to be seen, the blue rings around his eyes startling in their color. Dreams knew that the little cephalopod was nervous enough its neurotoxin glands had filled with extremely lethal biochems.

"Destroyed? Through mismanagement?" Hashknesh asked.

"No. By orbital fire from ships my people sent in an attempt to deliver a blow that would kill the queen, so to speak, and end the war," Dreams said. She leaned down, stirred the water with her bladearm. "We glassed the entire regions around the Seatac Metroplex, and the Captain was amused to hit this too."

"If it was glassed, why, how was it fixed? Everybeing knows you can't undo a glassing," Hashknesh said.

"That's what we gloated to the Terrans," Dreams said. She sent a signal through her implant as she spoke. When she got the ding that the treat was ready, she darted her her bladearm into the water, spearing a fish/nutri-snack and lifting the biomatter treat up out of the water. "We told them that glassing was irreversible."

She held her bladearm to Mr Rings, still speaking. "The Terrans, after beating us, turned their vast war industry into solving the problem. Now, you can't even tell we glassed it," She said. Mr. Rings saw the visitor move and ducked a little into his bole.

"They created methods to clean up glassing?" Heshknesh asked, her mind boggling.

"You see, it was more examples of their primacy over us," Dreams said softly. "They not only defeated us, they removed all evidence we even touched them, as if the war never happened. My people are welcome on Terra, allowed to live there, own property on the cradle of humanity, as if we never attacked them."

Mr. Rings slowly, shyly, reached out for the treat.

"The Overqueens might as well have never existed. The Speakers and Warriors might have never existed," Dreams said softly. "The Terrans claimed it was to keep humanity from remaining angry by being reminded by the physical 'scars' on Terra of what we had to them. So they erased it. As if we had never fought. The humans are as terrifying in times of peace and ease as they are in warfare."

Mr. Rings's tentacle touched the meat with a sucker, extended his hook he used to catch prey/snacks and climb the bark of the trees, and pulled the treat back, still looking around shyly.

"I will inform TerraSol that you are unaware of what you have just done and request that your people are pardoned in ignorance for what you are about to do," Dreams said softly. "You should inform your leaders that I am all that stands between your ignorant, naive, and childish people and the 1% Line."

"The 1% Line?" Hashknesh asked. Those words sounded threatening, as if a mere percentage signifier was supposed to be a dire warning.

"Should you go to war with the Terran Confederacy, as a whole with the support of your people and your government, your people, your planets, your rulers, everyone, will be slaughtered until only a single percentage point of your original population remains," Dreams said softly. "For five generations all you will be permitted is what Terrans refer to as 'Pre-Industrial' technology, and your systems interdicted from travel or communication from everything but a Terran Military Station."

Mr. Rings climbed quickly from the bole, up the tree, his long tentacles allowing him to quickly move to the next water filled bole in the potted plant that Dreams took everywhere with her.

"You will look up at the stars and, to quote a long forgotten human sage: wonder why you had to act like an asshole."

Hashknesh just stared, where she'd seen the small creature her implant had labeled as a "Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus", and felt her scales grow cold as she realized that it wasn't a threat.

The Terran Confederacy had done it before.

To the Mantids.

And they'd do it again.

To the Council.

Speaker Hashknesh got up and left, without speaking, hurrying to the Council chamber and summoning an emergency meeting.

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TO: TERRASOL DIPLOMATIC CORPS

FROM: DREAMS OF SOMETHING MORE

These beings are as children. They were not adequately warned. The actions of the corporations are carried out under their own will, not the will of the government, which largely does not carry out the will of the people. I beg for clemency and mercy on their behalf.

PS: Can you send me some more Pacific Northwest Spotted Salmon Treats, non-synthetic? Mr. Rings likes those best.

--------NOTHING FOLLOWS---------

TERRAN CONFEDERACY MEMO

Respond to all attacks under the Confederate Rules of Engagement. Do not carry out punitive responses. Diplomatic and Congressional discussions are underway.

-------NOTHING FOLLOWS------

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