What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

Rosalind awed in understanding. “They want to bring one of their people up to our ships while leaving one of us, Calvin over there, here.”

“Is that safe?” David asked.

Rosalind looked away for a second, finger up to her ear, before turning back and saying, “Casemore says it’s okay. Come on, we’ll head back to the drop ship.”

“ Whoa, you guys are seriously leaving me here with these guys?” Calvin asked back, hands raised and shock filling his voice.

Randall raised his hand. “I’d be fine with staying down with Corporal Woodstock.”

Rosalind looked delighted. “Then it’s settled!” She nodded at Kelbrun, then gestured at both Randall and Calvin, and pointed at the floor before beginning to head back to the drop ship “Sergeant, tell the drop ship pilot to warm up the engines.” The rest of his squad looked apologetically at Calvin, who just flipped them off before angrily slamming his helmet back on his head.

Kelbrun clapped her hands together. "Great! Gelbrun, go pull on a vacuum suit, then go with them. Now, make sure to take notes. Don't just gawk at everything, we might be able to use this in our research. Don't break anything either, their hallways will probably be smaller than ours." Gelbrun just nodded, a big grin on her face, though to a human it probably looked more like predatory glee than an honest grin. She made a dash for the storage building as soon as Kelbrun had finished talking. It only took her a few minutes to pull on an alloy hard suit and start lumbering towards the drop ship.

When the other humans had departed, Calvin and Randal were met with the unblinking, milky eyes of twelve Vulojalon. That is, until Remchol nudged another marine in the ribs. "So who's going to get probed first? I bet if we got one of those tiny maneuverable cameras we could freak them out." That got a laugh from most of the marines.

Kechol started handing out orders. "Remchol, you wait by the landing pad for the drop ship to return, you'll need to bring them over to our little restaurant. Clubrun, Ridchol, patrol the perimeter and keep an eye out for predators If you think you need back up, we'll be in radio contact. The rest of you, it's dinner time." Two of the marines growled, smelling of disappointment, before they shouldered their rifles and headed for the edge of the outpost. Remchol nodded his head and set off to wait on the trail leading to the landing pad. The rest of the marines continued towards the beach.

Kelbrun pointed to Calvin and Randall, and then made what could best be described as a 'follow me' gesture before following the Kechol towards the beach, with Deschol and Greuchol in tow.

Calvin sighed as he watched the drop ship lift up, and fly off into the distance. “Well… I suppose we should follow them.” he said, turning to Randall, who merely nodded in return.

---

The ride up to the Rosalind was rather awkward. The drop ship was not made for someone Gelbrun’s size, and everyone sat rather stiffly, despite the rocking of the ship. All attention focused on Gelrbun, and no one knew what to say, after all, the alien wouldn’t understand. Professor Rosalind was the one to break the ice. “Rosalind Franklin,” she said, pointing at herself. “What’s your name?”

The 'restaurant', if it could be called that, was a prefab shack with a huge grill and a refrigerated storage area. The only seating was a few stools set up around a single round table on the beach, only enough room for fifteen people to sit and eat, though eleven of the seats were already occupied by Vulojalon in the dark green jumpsuits the scientist wore. They were passing around a case of tuuvak, while five more sat at the center of the table. A large generator behind the building thrummed rhythmically, thick wires running from the generator to the shack, along with the other prefabbed buildings. It looked similar to a beehive, a console on the side giving off a soft blue glow.

Another scientist was at the grill, cooking seven large fish, each one several feat long. They had four eyes, a long snout filled with teeth, two flippers, a dorsal fin, and a long, whip-like tail that probably served the purpose of a flagellum. The scientist was cooking them whole, occasionally flipping them or rubbing them down with what looked like half of a deformed golden pear with red flesh. Despite the fish's odd appearance, they smelled like grilled salmon.

Further down the beach, it seems a rudimentary shooting range had been set up. A few empty crates set up on one end, while on the other local vegetation had been used to make vaguely humanoid targets. One of the Vulojalon marines, a particularly large male with a few missing teeth named Dalchol, approached the two humans. He gestured to himself, pointed at Randall and Calvin, and then pointed to the shooting range.

---

Gelbrun was hunched over in her seat, hanging onto the handholds tightly, since the seat belt would not fit over her. She looked a little queasy, actually. When Rosalind introduced herself she nodded her head, smiling. She didn't point to herself, apparently not willing to let go of the handholds, but did say "Gelbrun, Tauxer tribe." The word for tribe sounded like "Echzi"

Calvin stopped as he saw the 'restaurant'. It looked so mundane, like something you’d see regularly on some resort. That is, if all the people were replaced with giant, noseless, bug, lizard people… Also the shooting range… Those usually weren’t at resorts either. When the large alien soldier pointed towards the shooting range, well, Calvin followed along. Not like there was much else to do. Looking down the range, Calvin turned towards Randall. “Say, how about we make a bet out of this?”

Glancing back, Randall asked, “Sure, how much?”

“Let’s say… hundred credits?”

Randall nodded. “Alright, you’re on.”

“Here you can borrow my gu-“ Calvin abruptly cut himself off as he withdrew his pistol when he noticed that Randall had gotten a pistol of his own from somewhere. “Where the hell did you get that from?” he asked.

“I work for TAI, you didn’t think I’d come unarmed did you?” Calvin could just see the smirk under his helmet.

“I’m starting to regret making this bet…” he griped. “The…” Calvin paused as he judged the distance of one of the target. “Sixty meter target look good to you?”

“Fine by me,” Randall waved his hand towards the range, “you have the honor.”

Calvin walked up, removed his helmet to place it on one of the crates, and got into a shooting position. “We get the whole clip?”

Randall nodded. “Headshots count for two points. Misses subtract one.”

Staring down the sight of his pistol, Calvin took a deep breath, and let it out. Sixteen shots were fired in rapid succession, fifteen in the clip, in the chamber, a kind of rhythm forming from the way he timed them. At the end of it, they counted eleven shots to the torso, two to the head, and three misses. Next was Randall. Adopting a similar posture to Calvin, Randall let loose. His shots were quicker, and there was less time between shots. Randall scored three headshots, twelve body shots and one miss. Calvin sighed. “Well, I guess I owe you a hundred credits. I knew I’d regret making this bet…”


The drop ship gave a slight shudder as it landed onboard the Rosalind. The door to the drop ship dropped to reveal a spacious hangar, several other drop ships and large crates sitting nearby, and the beginnings of a few prefabricated buildings. One of the first things Gelbrun might have noticed was the fact that there was gravity onboard the ship. The next was that Captain Casemore was there to meet them, along with Agent Jacobson, and two marine escorts. Various engineers and mechanics seemed to crowd around as well, trying to get a look at the mysterious alien. Casemore nodded at Fortesque, who upon exiting the shuttle had saluted the man. “You and your squad performed admirably. You are dismissed for the remainder of the day.” The squad looked at each other for a moment, before dispersing, headed back to drop off their gear and enjoy the rest of the day. Casemore turned to face Rosalind and the Vulojalon, and asked, “So, Professor, mind introducing me to your guest?”

Rosalind, who had now taken off her helmet, smiled. “This is Gelbrun Tauxer Eczi… I think…”

Casremore raised his brow at that. “You think?”

“We don’t exactly share a language, Captain.” Rosalind responded with indignation. Casemore merely nodded. Making a ‘follow me’ gesture, Casemore turned and began to leave the hangar, the doorway out into the hall opening as Casemore approached. The hallways, while cramped for Gelbrun, were obviously rather roomy for humans, allowing four people to walk side-by-side in the hallways, with a little bit of room to spare. They walked for a little while; occasionally they would meet a crewmember, who would push themselves up against the wall to make room for the entourage, and nodded at the Captain. Eventually Casemore stopped, and turned to walk into a room. It was the engine room. Pipes could be seen running against the ceiling, and various computers lined the walls. Several technicians stopped their work to see who had entered, and they all abruptly stood up to salute as they noticed that it was Casemore that stood in the doorway. Casemore merely nodded, and with an “At ease,” they all returned to their work, though a little awkwardly. Casemore glanced back at Gelbrun, and motioned her forwards.

Dalchol shouldered his larger rifle, the barrel roughly twice the length of a human's arm, flipped the fire selector to the middle setting, and squeezed the forward grip where the trigger was. He fired four four round burst at the same target Calvin and Randall had shot at. It looked like the rifle kicked like a mule, even by Vulojalon standards. When it was all said and done he had four shots in the head area, seven to the body, and five misses.

Dalchol growled quietly and pulled something out of a belt pouch. The item was hard to identify, it vaguely resembled a tiny skull wrapped in foil, except the cranium was way too wide, and it looked like there were big holes on both sides. A picture on the top of the skull depicted what were probably Vulojalon children cracking open the candy(?) skull and eating some kind of blue goo. Dalchol pointed at the foil wrapped, oddly shaped skull and just said "Doxan*." Before propping his rifle up against a crate, holding up one finger, and pointing towards the outpost proper. After that he set off at a jog in the direction he pointed.

The scientist working the grill seemed to have finished cooking in the time it took to conclude this little shooting contest and was starting to serve everyone. A line had formed leading from the table to the little prefab shack, and in lieu of plates they wrapped the fish in a sturdy looking cloth mat; they seemed to eat with their hands, the cloth mat acting almost like an inedible tortilla.

---

Gelbrun carefully stood up, looking confused. When she got out into the hanger she gave a little hop in the air, landing with a thud. That seemed to surprise her more than anything. She repeated this a few times, getting progressively more excited. She immediately pulled a data pad from what appeared to be a tool storage compartment on her hard suit and started taking notes. It took a little while for Gelbrun to remember where she was and what she was doing, at which point she looked around, coughed once, and stood up a bit straighter.

Gelbrun was eight feet, seven inches tall, but she had proportionally scrawny limbs. The hard suit hid this fact but not entirely. The hard suit itself was rather technologically advanced, in addition having hydraulic joints and various tools and tanks fixed to it, it had a readout on the chest that included heart rate, blood pressure, core body temp, blood type, and even if there were any unknown or unnatural substances or entities within the body. For the most part it was unintelligible, the units of measurement were completely different, but the heart rate was understandable. It seemed slow compared to a human. Only about forty beats per minute.

She removed her helmet, cautiously. It only took a few breaths before she started needing to breathe heavily, so she ended up deciding the helmet stays on for this tour. She instead pressed a button on the side of the helmet and her voice filtered through a speaker on the shoulder. "Gelbrun, Tauxer eCHzi." Eczi didn't properly translate, but was a word used to describe dishonorable or shamed clans. After that slight correction she happily followed along, maintaining a much more professional demeanor after hopping around in the hanger bay. Upon reaching the engine room, she pulled out her data pad again and taking notes on everything. She touched all of the pipes and took notes on the temperature as detected by her suit and displayed on a HUD. She carefully studied each console screen, trying to decipher it before moving on. If she could communicate verbally she'd surely be spewing forth a million questions. After almost a half hour she seemed to have filled several pages with scribblings and gave Rosalind and Casemore a thumbs up.
____________
*Doxan: A popular candy amongst children. The shell taste almost sickeningly sweet and is made from a pressure molded sweetener derived from the leaves of a certain type of tree native to Pavonir. The filling is artificially flavored goo that taste vaguely of raspberries, or perhaps blueberries.

[Posted at Vulo's request]

Far down the coast was a collection of shallow, half-submerged caves in a cluster of rocky outcroppings. It was downwind of the vulojalon restaurant, and the scent of cooked fish could be smelled clearly despite the distance. And it was.

It was a nightmarish creature that responded to the scent, with a bulging skull and sickeningly sticky skin moist with seawater, a dull gray-black in hue. Its otherwise gaping maw was concealed behind a mass of tendrils nearly a foot in length, the muscles in them flexing and relaxing in a vulgar display of movement. With webbed hands and feet, it climbed a nearby stone spire, limbs and body folding and shifting in grotesque ways until it reached the top. Perhaps the only way to make such a creature more disturbing to an unmolested mind would be the addition of more limbs and eyes, but thankfully it only had four of each.

The scent was clearer up here, undeniably. It was a youngling compared to its kin, but even it knew the smell of cooked meat. The wind was blowing fast this day, especially by the beach, and the freshness of the odor all but lulled the creature into an orgasmic trance as it imagined the taste of warm flesh. The others would have to be informed, and if this one didn't do it, another would. Looking forward to the extra share, it released the spire and dropped into the water.

It only took a moment to navigate the maze of submerged tunnels, so familiar this being was with them. It resurfaced in a large cave filled with more of its kind, dozens upon dozens of the sticky amphibians. With a gesture of its tendrils and a surprisingly loud raspy sound, it had gathered them about. The subsequent mention of flesh cooking over a fire sent them into a frenzy, and they quickly gathered their stone and bone spears before diving into the water.

Several minutes later, the nightmares-given-flesh were nearing the beach, occasionally peeking above the water line to catch the scent of the fish, bodies shivering in excitement. One with the wave, they hit the beach, their bodies lurching obscenely onto the sand as the wave crashed. They worked their nearly man-sized forms up the beach quickly and silently, spears in hand.

Calvin and Randall watched the marine fire on the same target they had shot at earlier. Calvin noted the weapon's heavy recoil, though the alien soldier seemed to manage it okay. Calvin raised an eyebrow, while Randall tilted his head curiously when the alien had brought out the "doxan". As the Vulojalon left, Calvin turned towards Randall and asked, "Think he wants us to wait here?" Randall replied with a shrug. They both turned their gazes upon the beach, and watched the people beginning to line up for the strange looking fish. "You know... This is going a hell of a lot better than what I expected it to be."

"What did you expect to happen?" Randall asked, looking at Calvin out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know... I mean, all the movies and stuff back home always had First Contact involve aliens trying to kill us... I guess, I prepared for the worst? It certainly didn't exactly help when I learned that there would be TAI agents following us around too."

Randall snorted. "What, you think the government's going to let something like this go unmonitored? This is one of the biggest events in human history."

"I suppose so..." Looking back out at the beach, Calvin noticed something... Something rising out of the sea... Calvin squinted his eyes to try and get a better look. "Hey, Randall... You see that in the distance?"

Randall looked at Calvin, then to what he seemed to be staring at. He furrowed his brows in surprise. "Yea... Is that normal?"

"I dunno... I'll go ask one of them. Wait here." Calvin walked towards the line. Tapping one of them on the shoulders, Calvin pointed at the beach where the squid people were rising from.

The scientist they'd tapped on the shoulder wasn't entirely sure what to make of the creatures rising from the beach. He pulled a small device from his pocket and pressed a button on the right side. "Armed, dangerous creatures approaching the outpost. Please advise, direct." That transmission seemed to get the attention of the six marines in line, who started taking up defensive positions. Nobody was firing yet, but they had their fingers on the trigger.

Kechol spoke up over the din of worried mumbling. "Scientist, get to the armory and lock yourselves in. We'll send word when its all clear. Marines, keep an eye on them. Don't attack unless they attack you. Maybe they're just hungry. Leave a path open to the grill and leave your food out." Then he pointed to Randall and Calvin, pointed to the ground, and mimed firing a pistol.

Orders taken care of, Kechol pressed a button on his collar that caused his helmet to slide back up and cover his head. Then he moved into position behind the large round table, leveling his rifle at the creatures lurching onto the beach. The other marines were taking up similar positions, two jogging towards the shooting range with the intention of getting into position behind the crates there, while the other three just crouched or stood on the beach well away from the grill shack.

The scientist quickly followed Kechol's orders, being shepherded away by Kelbrun. For their part, Remchol, Clubrun, and Ridchol joined up with the group of scientist, covering their retreat to the armory. Dalchol waited inside, laying out pistols and the few rifles they had left after arming the marines, so the scientist could take something to defend themselves with when they reached the armory.

Spoiler:

Zig-zagging wildly up the beach with their lurching gait, the creatures howled in a manner best described as storm winds forcing their way into a window. As they neared the source of the pleasant odor they sought, their tendrils curled and uncurled and their gait increased, fueled by an irregular excitement.

A little more than halfway up the beach, they came to a gradual stop. However mad the beasts were, however tempting the fish, they were not creatures intent on throwing their lives away that simply. So they paced, in a fashion, watching the battle line ahead of them, familiar with the destructive power of the stonethrowers the Vulojalon carried. The gap in the line made it clear where the food was, but a suspicion of deceit caused the mob's initial hesitance.

One of their number broke the line, taking the first few steps toward the fish. The pacing stopped, and the howling with it, as the amphibians watched with curiosity, doubt, and desire. Many prepared themselves to join the first, only waiting for it to get closer.

Calvin watched the scientists being escorted away before running back towards the shooting range. "Yea, definitely ain't normal," he said, putting back his helmet, giving it a slight hit to make sure it was sealed. "Looks like we're not shooting them yet, just waiting to see what happens." Randall nodded as he reloaded his pistol, pulling a magazine from a compartment in his suit, the both of them joining the other marines behind the crates as Calvin hefted his rifle, thumbing the safety off.

The two marines that had set off for the shooting range reach it, both dropping into a crouch. One points his rifle towards the sea to avoid any of the creatures catching them by surprise. The other braces his rifle across the top of a crate and sets the fire selector to fully automatic, keeping it leveled at the mass of creatures.

The scientist make their way past the plaza where the drawing board is still set up, along with the various other secondary devices they'd brought along for communication. They were almost to the relative safety of the armory, where Dalchol had weapons waiting for them. The three marines that had been tailing them took up defensive positions in and around the plaza.

By and large, the marines around the snack shack tolerate the howling, screeching, and especially the odor of the creatures lurching on the beach. Two in particular looked to be seconds away from snapping, their hands shaking and heads bulging as jaw muscles clenched. For now though they held their fire. If only to wait until they got word the scientist were safe.

Encouraged by the lack of resistance the individual was meeting, several others ran forward. From there it was chaos, with the entire mass charging forward, each wanting to be the first to the fish. The howling increased once more, quickly exceeding the previous volume. The forward most of them increased their pace upon hearing the howls, disregarding the battle line entirely as they made their way to the grill.

However, a number of those in the main mass split off as the howling excited them to the point of bloodlust, hunger for food driven from their minds and hunger for combat replacing it. They leaped with incredible precision towards and onto the Vulojalon battle line, jabbing their crude spears into joints and other similarly weak looking armor segments. Those who lost their spears battered on the armor ineffectually with their fists and tried to tear off pieces of the metallic carapace.

All the while, the howling never stopped.

As soon as Kechol saw the creatures breaking off to attack his men, he shouted over the radio. "Fire, fire, FIRE!" Although, it probably wasn't necessary. They'd started firing at the creatures as soon as they were attacked. When the beast closed in for melee the marines either pulled out the knives they kept attached to their breastplate or bashed them with the heavy metallic butts of their rifles.

One of the marines was, crippled by a stab to the thigh that left him down one knee, trying to fend the monsters off. He was overwhelmed while trying to reload and killed when a portion of his helmet was torn off and a spear got him in the neck. Another took a nasty wound in her side after a spear tip slipped by her armor, but she was still fighting. Another got his rifle knocked away by one of the monsters and was reduced to stabbing them in the head with his combat knife.

The male on the beach, braced as he was with his armored forearm weighing down the barrel, was able to start emptying the entirety of his forty round magazine into the main mass of beast without worrying about friendly fire. When the magazine was exhausted he ejected it and tossed it into the sand, reaching for a pouch on his armor where two more were kept. While he reloaded the other marine kept an eye out for any of the creatures approaching their little machine gun nest.

The scientist reached the armory just as the gunfire started, and quickly filed in. They took up pistols and Kelbrun grabbed an assault rifle. Dalchol closed and locked the door once everyone was inside, and the scientist listened uneasily to the sounds of gunfire faintly audible through the thick alloy walls.

"Open fire!" Calvin yelled as he saw the squid people charge the line of Vulojalon soldiers. Calvin's rifle roared as he fired in bursts into the onrush of slimy flesh, barely stopping to aim as Randall's pistol barked its own retort, his shot slightly more controlled. The sound of their guns firing joined the Vulojalon's own, and grimaced as he saw several of them fall, redoubling his effort to take more of the squid things down.

They turned and fled, the mass of howling nightmares. Ultimately, it was not the gunfire and death of dozens that drove them back, but the minor victory of one of their own grabbing a pair of grilled fish and escaping through the nearby brush. When it burst through the undergrowth further down the beach, they knew it was time. Ignoring the gunfire behind them, they lurched into the water and let the waves carry them away, leaving behind those still grappling the Vulojalon or twitching on the ground.

Back in the caves, the howling persisted, seeming louder with the acoustics of the cave. The fish-snatcher paraded about on a ledge, waving the soggy fish in the air. The creatures below lurked in anticipation, waiting for the first bite to be taken so they could eat some themselves. They did not have to wait long, for the fish-snatcher was as hungry as them. It pushed the fish beneath its tendrils and pulled it back out, a chunk now missing. Juices could be seen mixing with the water dripping from its tendrils, though whether from the fish or its maw, only they knew. The fish-snatcher raised the fish again, but not to brandish it in the air, but to take another bite. And those below accepted this, for the stonethrowers were dangerous and difficult to evade. It was the third bite, however, that sent them over the edge.

A spear was thrown, and a fight broke out when the fish-snatcher fell to the ground, impaled. Several more were killed before it was finally made clear that they would share. The fish was passed around, small bites taken from it each time, until only bones remained. Then the creatures turned to the dead, wary of waste. The carcasses were cut open, and their stomachs removed, with the richest of bounties coming from the stomach of the fish-snatcher. The beasts fed themselves on the contents of their fallen kin's stomachs before turning to cannibalism, ripping at the flesh and muscle.

Hours later, when the bones were stripped clean and the nightmares were stuffed full, they curled up in a pile, content to sleep until the sun fell and rose again. None of them remembered there was a second fish stolen from the surface tribes. None but one, a runt who had barely escaped the slaughter on the beach. When the others slept, it slipped from the water and took the reward for its patience, a whole fish to itself.

The marines continued to fire at the retreating mass. The Vulojalon that had been serving as machine gunner finished reloading and raked gunfire across the water where he saw them retreating. Eventually though, everyone was out of ammo. The beast were gone, or out of sight at least. They had wounded to deal with. It wasn't worth the chase, just to finish them off. Kechol sent out a radio transmission. "All clear, safe. We have wounded, injured."

After that Kechol lowered his helmet and approached the two humans. He clapped them both on the shoulder, gestured to a minor cut on his arm, and then pointed towards one of the buildings in the outpost. He rubbed the two large plates on his head in frustration, before eventually getting an idea and drawing a rough depiction of a syringe in the sand. Hopefully that got the point across, if they were injured that was the medical building.

One of the marines crouched down next to the marine who'd taken a spear through the neck. The marine took his pulse, before looking up and shaking her head. "He's dead, Kechol. No pulse, not breathing."

Kechol nodded. "Get him to the morgue, we'll seal him in a cryogenic tube. Ship him back to Pavonir with the first wave of colonist." The female marine nodded and hefted the dead male over her shoulder, carrying him towards one of the buildings in the outpost proper.

Meanwhile, the female marine that had taken a spear to the side pulled a patch out of one of the pouches on her body armor and crushed it in her hand. She then pressed it to the wound, pressing it in firmly. The patch would deliver antibiotics, painkillers, and hemostatics in addition to sealing the wound from outside contaminants.

Kelbrun and the other scientist emerged from the armory. They kept the weaponry they'd been given by Dalchol, in case of an ambush. She pointed to Deschol and Greuchol. "Get to the medical building, we might have injured to take care of." After that she gestured towards the radio tower. "The rest of you, get the tachyonic array up and running. We need to send a transmission to Pavonir. A larger compliment of marines would be invaluable." Kelbrun personally headed for the beach.

Calvin relaxed as he watched the rest of the squid things run off into the sea. Neither he nor Randall were injured so they had no need for first aid, and the Vulojalon seemed to have everything dealt with. "So, think this happens here often?"

"I doubt it," Randall grunted back, "and I hope it doesn't happen again while we're here." Randall looked over the bloody sand, and walked over to one of the corpses. Calvin followed along a bit uncertain.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to get a closer look at them, see if I can get one or two for the biologists above us to look at." Calvin nodded as he watched Randall pick through a couple of the bodies, looking for one that wasn't too badly maimed. "Even if I can't get one, the I could at the very least take a few pictures."

Setting up the tachyonic array was simple enough, but rather time consuming. The scientist had to get rigged up to climb the radio tower, and run wires up and down the entire structure. The array itself would be a massive power drain when active, and as such needed it's own generator if the outpost wanted to keep its turrets active while transmitting at FTL speeds. Once the infrastructure was laid down though the tachyonic array was a mass produced device with a simple, six step construction process. The entire process would only take a few hours.

In the meantime, Kechol and the other marines left the two humans and the scientist alone to patrol the perimeter of the camp. The turrets couldn't be activated again until the humans left, lest they open fire on a human transport or the humans themselves.

Kelbrun chose to help the humans locate a mostly-intact body on the beach. She managed to find one that was killed by three stab wounds in chest, and had little more than scratches and bruising besides. When she found it, she waved to get Randall's attention, pointing to the corpse. She drew in the sand a rough depiction of the corpse, then a space ship, and an arrow pointing from the corpse to the space ship.

The tour of the ship continued. They went from the medbay, to the fusion generator, and to the bridge, then finally back to the hangar, where a dropship was prepped to bring Gelbrun back planetside, with a marine escort of course. Upon landing, Gelbrun was escorted back to the outpost, where the marines picked up Randall and Calvin, who, between them, carried the corpse of a relatively intact squid person. Upon inquiring as to the purpose of the corpse, Randall responded with, "A gift for the scientists.", and as the dropship lifted off, several larger ones entered the atmosphere, clearly visible in the sky, each of them carrying a prefabbed building, along with scientists, marines, and maintenance crews.

Once the tachyonic array was set up, Kelbrun beamed a message to Pavonir. It was a standard operations report, containing information about all the events that happened at the outpost, the state of each member of the outpost, and finally suggestions on what course of action the CSTP should take. It would reach Pavonir in roughly two months time, though hopefully the first wave of colonist was already on its way to Rozo-IV.

She was concerned about the humans, she had not expected them to set up an outpost, let alone without consulting her first. This would surely cause a stir on Pavonir but this world was relatively useless. They had found no especially remarkable plant or animal life, it had hostile natives, and strip mining it for resources would likely lower its value as a population center and resort spot. When the time came, there would need to be some sort of agreement reached on land rights, but it was not worth conflict over in her opinion.

For now, with Gelbrun returned, the sun setting, and the humans gone, Kelbrun recalled the marines and reactivated the turrets. The ion lasers, designed for ship to ship combat, slowly came to life. They surrounded the camp, and were automated to blast anything and everything that approached the camp without a CSTP signature. The outpost settled in for the night.