View Full Version : First Encounter

06-27-2007, 03:49 AM
I don't recall what brought me to write this, as usual just something that crawled out of my head- over the years I've fine tuned it into a very funny little piece, (it's the same as the other site)
Hope you enjoy,

* * *

Star-year 235 of the Third Klax’r Empire:

1/09/235.78- recorder on-

Progress report on deep space exploration; purpose colonization/annexation planets.

Detailed and scientific data report will follow through normal channels.

Scout ship: U-Z 231

Steersman: Orxa T’lan of Zandor clan.

Ship inquisitor: Hekor Cle`e of Mibaz clan.

Ship exited hyper-light drive and we found signs of life on third planet of star Kivor 67-Sb. Performed secondary scans, then went to investigate. Tuned in ship’s translator with the electromagnetic waves flooding space, while Orxa guided the ship under sub-light speed into high orbit around planet.

Sensors on line; show atmosphere rich in oxygen and nitrogen, slightly more oxygen than home world. Also show high amounts of carbon monoxide, nitrogen oxide, and traces of noxious chemicals that are bothersome. Ship’s main processor calculated it would take fifty Klax’r seasons to make this planet habitable for Qa’say civilization. Planet has overabundance of water; possible export value for other Klax’r worlds.

* * *

In accordance with standard operating procedure and energy saving guidelines, Orxa brought us into mid orbit, remaining in high-shielded mode. We find many beings flying in the atmosphere, various sized, some larger than our ship, but much slower. Creatures are fixed wing, no anti-gravity power signatures, and metallic exoskeletons. Translator interpreted electro-magnetic waves but not creature’s growls. Sensors indicate the creatures are responsible for the atmospheric noxious chemicals. Main processor needs more data to formulate hypothesis, other than eliminating native creatures.

Seeing as his clan can afford to pay for mistakes, as always, Orxa pushes his luck, and takes us closer to the creatures. His reasoning being the sensors will now work better. Apparently, someone had a stand-in for most of his elementary piloting lessons.

The creatures cannot sense us, or ignore us as they do the others. The different species do not attack, or even come close to one another, even though all our growling. After putting up with useless speculation on life and mating habits with my commander, we agree further studies are warranted.

Orxa took us planetside in light camouflage mode, after nightfall. With heads producing yellow light beams and tails glowing red, the ground beings were easy to spot visually at low altitude. Sensors showed the creatures spewing the same noxious fumes as flyers and moving along precise trails, worn smooth from use. Their exoskeletons made of various metallic elements, as were flyers. Still translator cannot interpret growls. We deduce the beings are flyer young, not capable of flight.

Orxa imagined the inhabitants are a warrior race, and wore armor. Being as we witnessed no earlier signs of aggression, I disagreed. Being as he is Commander I record; natives are warrior race and armored. I signed up on his ship thinking with his clan connections we both would move up in rank on these missions. I had no idea he was a moron.

Seeing no symmetry or order in their hives, and lying sprawled about at different levels alongside their pathways, we both assumed the natives to have a chaotic nature. Without knowing what the grunts and groans of the natives are, main processor theorized they are in mating mode, or following migratory routes. They run in packs, suggesting warriors, but not confirming the fact. Still, safety protocols forbid the use of tracter beam when dealing with more than one individual. To compensate Orxa flew to a less populated region.

In no time we were over a barren area of land. We saw one heading off in the distance. Orxa overtook the groundling and I used the tracter beam on it, but misjudged the beast’s power. The young groundling was the size of the dominant creatures on Crantz-6, but tripled in weight. With greater effort the creature was pulling away from us, but now off the migratory path.

I adjusted settings of the tracter, tried again as the youngster panicked and sped through the vegetation. Only raised the power a tenth, and the accident should not have happened. Unfortunately, the setting was too high, causing the lights and growling to cease. Sensors showed temperature falling rapidly, and noxious vapors had stopped.

Clacking away Orxa turned and gave me that, ‘you are filling out the paperwork for this, in triplicate,’ look. Like I did not know that already.

Hoping to curry favor, and not ruin any chance for promotion Orxa decided to bring the being aboard ship anyway for dissection. Even though paperwork would be increased I agreed.

Went to ship’s hold and found the being split open with another stage of the young beside the groundling howling, stomping with its lower appendages and waving its upper appendages about. I deduced populace must be semi-civilized if they mourned their dead, and had respect for elders. Smallest young was twice as tall as us with no appendages of any size between the four. Youngling’s textured skin was made up of different colors and furry, instead of our small scales and uniform shade.

Youngling advances towards Orxa. Not being overly patient, or checking the main processor for potential harm, the commander hits the creature with a stabilization barb. He is such a lucky crebzik, and does not kill the subject. At least I will not be filling at those papers. The barb has an immediate effect and calms the youngling down. If the translator will work I should be able to get some answers.

Orxa re-programmed the translator, and howling became clear speech. “What am I doing here? Who, or what are you? What do you want with me? Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Here under orders of Grand Queen Klax’r third, of Qa’say people, for purpose of finding possible re-settlement planets. Being here to answer questions. Who being?” I asked, as machine indicts it needs more speech to formulate proper syntax.

“My name is Philip W. Boothe, I’m mayor of Greensburg. Citizens of Greensburg won’t like their mayor taken. People of Earth won’t permit you to come here and take us over. We aren’t a primitive race, we have weapons and will fight. If you let me go now, all will be forgotten.”

“This planet is called Greensburg? Beings warriors?” I asked, trying to keep my eyestalks from crossing.

“No, of course not. We call this planet Earth. Greensburg, is a city in the state of Wisconsin, which is in the United States of America. I guess some of the people could be considered warriors, almost every country have specific people set aside to make war on others who infringe on their territory or beliefs.”

“Beings make war on civilized people who try to re-settle Earth?” Orxa wanted to know. He glanced over at me with just his right eyestalk, clacking as if this was a good question. Even if the Philip were not here, I do not criticize my Commander, no matter how stupid he gets.

“As far as I know no other beings from outer space have come to re-settle Earth. However, each countries’ armies protect their land and way of life from the people in the other countries here on Earth.”

Orxa adjusted the translator, then asked, “The Philip make war on own people?”

“No, well there was the Civil War nearly two hundred years ago, here in America. So, yes. In fact, mankind has had probably a thousand wars on Earth since then. Some of those, or actually a great many of them, have been civil wars. Although, civil war is an oxymoron. You know, one of those things where two words don’t make sense when combined?”

“The Philip species called mayors?” I asked changing the subject, not believing the machine translated the last answer correctly, and hoping Orxa did not take note. Or better yet he was so confused he could not think of another question. Dealing with one idiot was going to be hard enough, two impossible. Thought it was a fact, or not, no in between.

“No, our species name is Homo sapiens, more commonly known as humans or mankind. My country is the United States of America, greatest power on the planet Earth, probably our whole solar system. I’m an American male or man, we also have females or women. Mayor is a title I hold, it’s also a job.”

This was confusing and I needed more. “Yes, many mayors. What is mayor function?”

“There is only one mayor in each city. A mayor is a politician, who runs the city.”

“So the Philip born mayor. Is the Philip duty?” Orxa asked, scratching his hind region, as if that would help. Why he could not scratch head like most civilized races I had no idea, but I suspected in this case, his brain itched.

The Philip grabbed mid-section, tilted head back and snorted loudly. There was no translation of the snorts. “Wish it were that easy. No our mayors, like other politicians are elected by the people. Most serve four years, some serve six.”

“What is politician?”

The Philip looked at Orxa and showed his teeth again, shaking his head for better effect. Orxa flinched, readying a paralyzation barb. “I just told you, they’re elected officials. Several people find out what is wrong with the city and what the citizens want. These candidates promise to fix everything and make it how it used to be, or how the voters want it to be in the future. The citizens then hold an election, and each person who shows up votes for their choice. Winner is the mayor. It is that simple.”

“Then mayor fix city. Do what people want after election?” Orxa asked, after further adjusting the translator. He should worry about keeping the ship aloft, and keep his clackers out of my business. If his clan did not have so much pull with Space Command... Well, I would think of something to get even with this perpetual pain in the arches.

“Ah, not really. After you’re elected there’s never enough money to do as much as you said you would. Nobody wants more taxes to give you more money to work with. But, if you do a few of the little things you promised, then you can get elected again. These are only small lies, and the people don’t mind about minor untruths. If the people like you enough you can try to become a Governor, or Senator. After that you can try to get elected President.”

“Then the Philip American man’s leader?” What was Orxa thinking? Bad enough the translator was leaving gaps, but Orxa’s reasoning ability and questions are compounding the problem. This imbecile just wants his voice on the recorder. This human has a job of not telling the facts, and Orxa does not have a clue.

The Philip tilted head, snorting again. “Guess you could call me my city’s leader. There are leaders of the county that are above me and leaders of the state above them. There are also Senators and Congressmen representing us that have a lot of power. I’d say President of the nation is our leader, because there’s no one single person that is really above him.”

“The Philip say, nation President best liar on Earth?” I reasoned.

Slapping lower appendages with upper appendages the Philip bent over to look at ground while snorting. “For aliens you catch on real quick. Now, I’ve answered enough of your questions I must be going. There are many things I still have to do tonight. If you’ll just drop me off at the nearest gas station I’ll call for a ride, and we’ll forget this happened. Hell, I won’t even sue you for the damages to my car.”

Orxa looked at me, and shut the translator off. He asked what last words meant. I tell him I have no idea. He turned the translator back on and re-adjusted it. Looking at the printout, he clacked all was working correctly. “Explain gas station, sue, and car?”

The Philip shook head and mumbled many things that did not translate. He pointed at the poor being we killed. “This is a god damn car. It’s a means of transportation, nothing more. It runs on gasoline. I don’t need a gas station, if you just set me back on the ground I’ll use my cell phone.” The Philip held out small petrochemical object. “I’ll call someone, they can track me from the computerized tracker in my car. That thing right there.”

“What is sue?” Orxa repeated, as he inspected what the Philip called cell phone. Do not know how, but he found the courage to take two steps closer towards the Philip to look at the tracker.

The Philip shook head, snorted then threw upper appendages in air, and said more things that did not translate. “I’ll be here all night at this rate. I know what I said earlier, but it was on the conditions you let me go. You’ve damaged my car, and you must fix it. If you don’t fix it I’ll take you to court, and sue you to make you fix it.” The Phillip took a step forward, and Orxa tensed to hurl a barb. “I’ve a damn fine lawyer to handle all my cases and he never loses. If I send my lawyer after you, then you will have to hire your own lawyer.”

The Philip showed us his teeth again. “A real good lawyer is not cheap these days, you will save a lot of money by just fixing my car. You can save yourselves a whole bunch of trouble and money by just letting me go.”

“Then lawyers warriors. Lawyer purpose to attack, or protect?” Orxa asked scratching head with his two longer appendages. I guess, anyone can get lucky once in a while. This theory is shot down when he goes back to scratching hind region.

“Yeah, lawyers are like warriors in our court system. A good lawyer can do both, but the best way to handle these matters is to have a law firm behind you. Before you ask, a law firm is a bunch of lawyers, some specializing in taking money, some in keeping it from being taken. Both cost a lot of money.”

With translator panel open Orxa pretends to know what he is looking at when alarm on the Philip cell phone starts up. It stopped after bouncing off the far bulkhead, courtesy of Orxa’s fine reflexes. Always thought that bravery commendation he wore was bought by his clan. He gave me that same look, and I foresaw much paperwork in my future, but he could clean up his own drippings. Not being adept with machines I thought I better help Orxa, or risk a severe case of writer’s cramp.

I double-checked the translator. “The Philip mean, more than one attacks?”

“You do know that was a god damn five hundred dollar cell phone. Prototype, given to me by a contributor–”

”More than one attacks?” I repeated, trying to keep one of the idiots under control.

“Yes, they run in packs, begging for your work. There is one on every corner. Hell, there are as many lawyers as there are politicians. Hell, most politicians are, or were lawyers.” The Philip was showing teeth, still slapping lower appendages with upper appendages and snorting loudly.

Frustrated Orxa turned off the translator. “I think this thing is broken.”

“If it is, I know who did it,” I mutter, forgetting about his over-sensitive, over-sized auditory antenna. No doubt, a result from too much in-clan pollination. Most likely latest culprits being Orxa’s mother and grandfather. He gave me a severe clacking, promising to give me enough paperwork to keep me busy for a hundred sheddings.

Re-inspecting our translator I reported, “The Philip does not seem to be making sense to me, but I can find nothing wrong with the machine. Data processor has run diagnostics and confirmed this. The humans have no honor if they do not meet their accuser head on. Earth is not as civilized as it appears if they allow these lawyers to attack in packs, and their people routinely kill each other. Why would anybody want to live where the land is full of these politicians and lawyers? Surely, we did not understand the Philip.”

“I’m not sure Hekor, they are a primitive and war-like species. The cell phone and tracker the Philip regards so highly are inorganic, as is this car the Philip wants us to heal. I do not think the translator is malfunctioning and the language cannot be that difficult. So, by pure logic that which the Philip says must be true.”

“But is not the Philip’s sole purpose in life to lie?”

All four eyes rolled as Orxa scratched his three chins. “That is a valid point, Hekor. Perhaps, we should get another of these earth humans to validate what has been said.”

“I do not think it would do us any good. With the condition this planet is in it will be unfit for the Qa’say people before we could get colony ships here.”

“This is our eleventh planet, we cannot keep doing this forever. It is our best bet. We go by procedure, monitor information filling the atmosphere. If we have any questions we ask the Philip after we are through.”

Since I had no better idea we put the Philip in stasis and Orxa put the ship in high orbit.
* * *

1/09/235.81- recorder on-

Progress report on deep space exploration; purpose colonization/annexing planets.

Detailed and scientific data report will follow through normal channels.

Ship is U-Z 231, steersman Orxa T’lan. I, Hekor Cle`e, ship inquisitor.

Last three planet revolutions have been spent studying native species: human, host being: car. After considerable debate decide to collect another specimen for additional examination.

Sensors on line entire time, but no new data to submit.
* * *

Orxa flew towards the dark side of the planet in hopes of finding a human different from the Philip. There were not many of the host cars traveling alone. They seemed to be moving in packs of three or four. We came across one traveling much slower than the rest. According to sensors it was twice the height of the Philip’s car and spewing twice as many of the noxious vapors as the others we witnessed.

The car gave me little fight as I brought it aboard the ship by tracter beam. After it was safely secured on deck I opened its hatch. A human shorter and with more fur than the Philip jumped out and began wailing in a high pitched voice. This human’s skin had even more colors than the Philips did. The translator finally caught up with the speech pattern.

“What do you think you people are doing? This is a god damn VW bus, not a flying car. Do you know you are interfering with my rights to travel through this country without persecution?”

“No wish to harm,” Orxa replied. “Only want answers to questions.”

“Well since you put it that way, and I’m in no big hurry, I’ll answer a few of your questions. But first who, or what are you?”

“Qa’say scouts of dying planet looking for colonies to suit purpose of re-settlement. Who, or what you?” Orxa answered.

“I’m a human female, as well as a free spirit. My name is Storm, just plain Storm, no Ms., Miss, or Mrs. I was given the birth name Rainbow sometime during the sixties, but changed it when I turned eighteen years old to Rainbo, without the w.” She showed a lot of teeth, but no snorting. “You know like the bread? When I turned thirty I had it with all the establishment bullshit, and changed it to Storm. Which I thought was not only witty, but fitting. Who are you two, and what is that?” The Storm pointed at the Philip standing in corner.

“I Orxa, that Hekor. That the Philip. Ask the Philip questions and study. You mayor like the Philip?”

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding. I’m no establishment pig, or pawn of the mindless masses. I’m one of the last of the flower children from two of the original flower children.”

Orxa looked at the translator, resisting the urge to whack away at the machine. He looked at me, but refrained from clacking threats. I simply stated, “It is not broke,” before Orxa could ask. “Then, the Storm not lawyer?”

“No, of course not. Do I look like an establishment bulldog?”

“What is establishment?” Orxa inquired adjusting translator, and reading printout. I thought we agreed I would do my job, asking questions, him fly the ship. But apparently his memory was even shorter than his pollinator.

The Storm began walking back and forth while throwing upper appendages about. “Establishment is all those in power, or wish to be. From the uptight, anal retentive President down to the pig metermaid that gives you parking tickets. Lawyers are assholes that abuse the system, people and planet.”

“What children?” I asked finding as always words that did not translate.

“Children are what we call our young. They are like us, just smaller and innocent of the world’s new, or old problems. But, all children grow up, and despite a bit of rebellion most follow in their parents footsteps.”

Frustrated Orxa again beat on the translator, as if that would solve the problem. No wonder his clan spent so many credits paying off his last three mates. He was a third the size of a gelt, but thrice as stupid.

Clacked my disapproval at Orxa, but I did not understand most of which the Storm spoke about either. “The Storm’s parents are Earth flowers?”

The Storm shook head viciously, and showed all teeth while snorting noisily at me. “This is impossible. Back in the sixties, flower children were what my parents called themselves. The establishment named them hippies. Later they adopted the hippie title, and wore it with pride. Flower children believed in non-conformity and peace, not war. They believed in everyone having the right to do as they pleased, and nothing was against the law, if it did not effect others. They believed ***** were no more dangerous than alcohol, tobacco, and far less dangerous than the establishment’s war. They refused to be drafted, or work for the oppressive government. Some say it was a peaceful civil war in America.”

Orxa turned off the translator. “This is what the Philip talked of. This is first point both agree on, so it must be true. Lawyers fight with politicians, but lawyers are politicians.”

“No, politicians are lawyers.” Even though Orxa had it wrong as usual, I was relieved progress was being made. Because translator would not take too much more of Orxa’s adjusting, and I had plenty of paperwork to take care of already.

Happy he let all those other gaps go I turned the translator back on. “Did politicians or lawyers win war?”

“Neither really, or maybe both. See the flower children grew up, and things just were accepted. Their basic principle was fighting for individuality and rights. Men grew their hair long and everyone practiced free love just to be different, as well as protesting the war and government interference in their daily lives.”

More contradictions, and I could foresee long terms of debriefing when I returned to the home world. “Where flower children now?”

The Storm tilted head back and showed all teeth, including the ones in back. “As I said they grew up and most became so called functioning members of the establishment. There are still a few of us old hippies left, but we’re no doubt a dying breed.”

“What the Storm’s function?” Orxa asked while adjusting the translator one more time.

The Storm showed teeth, then threw head forward with fur flying everywhere. “I guess I’ve joined the establishment myself. I used to travel on the Deadhead circuit, selling things. After Jerry died I’ve had to find other groups to follow, but there are plenty of old seventies groups that have got back together.”

“The Storm is trader,” Orxa said to me forgetting translator was still on. Some times I wonder how he has not flushed himself out of a waste tube. Oh well, our tour was not half over, I suppose there was still plenty of time for such an accident.

“Yes, that is what I am. I sell some of the things I make and grow. It is harmless, but there are plenty who say it is against the law.”

“The Storm is smuggler,” I corrected.

The Storm showed teeth again and made more sounds with no translation. Not snorting more squealing, like when you step on your own clacker. “You can say that too. I only deal with organics, no powders or chemicals of any kind. Don’t believe in that crap, never have. I will not even sell my pipes to obvious crackheads.”

This time Orxa turned off the translator. “This is most perplexing, just meaningless noise. The Storm only confuses us more than the Philip. Sensors and translator have shown humans are organic and depend largely on inorganics for everyday life. This race is trying to destroy their planet and has probably destroyed all the other races that might have been here. I believe, we will have to send a research team back here to find out what all this means.”

Orxa made sense, and it would be the easiest solution. But a request for a research team, without a good reason could end a career. My clan did not have the power of Orxa’s, I had to keep trying. “It must mean the Storm sells other beings and trades in everything on this planet.” I turned the translator back on. “Explain deadheads, crackheads, organics, powders.”

The Storm shook head, and threw upper appendages. “Deadheads are the people that follow the musical group the Grateful Dead. Jerry Garcia was the leader of the group, before he died. Organics, is just a slang term used to describe natural ***** that get you high. Powder and chemicals are slang for synthetic ***** that also get you high, but destroy your mind. Crackheads, are those foolish enough to ruin their lives by using these chemicals.”

I look through transcript of conversation. “Explain free love?”

The Storm opened mouth, but nothing came out. The Storm shut mouth, then snorting shook head while shedding skin. “The only way to describe free love is to do it. I must admit it has been a while since I’ve done this with complete strangers. Are you both males, or are one of you a female? Oh well, doesn’t matter. I’ve made love to a few women in my time as well as plenty of men. Can’t think of a better way to welcome you to Earth.”

The Storm shed old skin faster than I could. The Storm stood there, as we waited for skin’s color to return. “Which one of you boys want to be first?”

Orxa turned off the translator. “I do not understand any of this, but it is strange that these actions do not correspond with translator explanation.”

The Storm kept talking, but I had no idea what it was saying. “Orxa, I believe the Storm wishes to perform a mating ritual with one or both of us.”

Orxa said many things that should not be heard by most. After calming down Orxa announced, “It might be worth studying, go ahead.”

I looked at Orxa full of surprise. “Orxa leader! Orxa, should lead by example.”

Orxa hit the Storm with stasis field to quiet the Storm. “Perhaps, we should have the Philip mate the Storm, and observe ritual?”

“It will just be a waste of time.” I clacked away at him for a change. “How will this further our exploring this system?”

“That is logical assumption, and not sure of any benefit. I believe we should put the Philip and the Storm back on the planet and keep searching. These humans are too self-destructive and violent for our people. We will keep the cars you accidentally killed for further studies.”

Already knew cars would be my fault, and I could see no argument with Orxa’s reasoning, so I carried out the orders. Both subjects were placed in the vicinity of where we had taken each. We kept the Storm’s shed skins to study further. Orxa made the Philip shed skin before returning him to surface. The Philip howled, and took much longer than the Storm to shed skin. But I do not know if noise was from pain or not.

Orxa took ship out of planet’s gravity well. “Hekor, you have paperwork to complete. After that you can begin studying transcripts for a report to the home world.”

Hoped he would lose all feeling in his clackers from sitting on his hind region the entire trip back. “What about these car beings? You should start our investigation of them as soon as possible?”

“I see no flaw in your logic. You can re-program the data processor to run diagnostics on them before studying the transcripts.” No surprise there, his clan prided themselves on being great managers.

“This solar system has no other planets suited for our needs, the fourth is close, but too small. I will plot a course to the next star system. Hekor, set a buoy past last planet’s orbit, warning other explorers that there is nothing of interest here and sent a report to the home world.”

“Perhaps,” I doubt will do any good, but try, “you should have the data processor run more diagnostics on the translator, and try to upgrade it, if it is not functional. Then have others check on this planet from time to time?”

Orxa clacked away, and struck the translator. “You do whatever needs to be done with the translator. Put in the report, check every fifty Klax’r seasons.”

“But, I do not believe this planet will survive another generation.”

“We are a long lived race, so what do you think sounds better for the newest Klax’r world, planet Orxa, or planet T’lan? Keep in mind it will be the name of the new water distributor.”

Not caring about his over-sensitive antenna I mumble, “Both mean moron. Fitting for past, present and future leaders.” In my head I curse the clan system of the Qa-say people, as I start filling out the accident reports.

The End

06-27-2007, 04:12 AM
great stuff...read it on the other site too.

06-27-2007, 04:38 AM
wrote it years ago, but tore it apart every year I think, and ran across it after not touching it for longer than a year, and tore it apart again, I'm pretty happy with the final outcome- now I just got to get to this point faster than 5 or 6 years

Thanks for reading it, and hope you got a clacker or two going