50 lines
1.9 KiB
Plaintext
50 lines
1.9 KiB
Plaintext
The walls began to stream with a black oil, the table expanded
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leaving us as spokes divided by eight gelatinous shapes pulsating in
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rhythm with each other.
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"Hello. We are the Protectorate of Nalmyke, and weld-come you to our home,"
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they collectively said in atonal harmony. "Thank you for returning
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Satellite to us."
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Niceties were exchanged and introductions made, before coming to
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the business at hand. The invading force was successfully resisted,
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but the cost was great. The Nalmykians developed a genetic solution
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to their troubles and merged their carbon-based DNA with a silicate
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construct similar to a virus. This new lifeform speaking to us now
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was left behind to launch the last cruisers forgotten in space.
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Centuries alone with nothing to do but think, and wait for their
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planet to fall into their sun.
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"What do you want from us?" Hex intoned, absent-mindedly flipping a
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tarot card between her fingers.
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"We seek refuge."
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"We aren't really a passenger ship" said Mr Swarm.
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"You have seen the space and resources one of ours requires. It is
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infinitesimal in comparison to your Commander Cranium alone. Our
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scout reports you have ample surpluses and we have ample resources
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for us both to benefit from co-operation."
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By the looks of things Hex and Cranium were on the same page,
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leaving Swarm and I in the dark. I offered that they had already
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repaired our hyperdrive, and none of us had noticed any losses
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while under their guidance.
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"How many of you are there?" the commander asked.
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"Trillions and trillions, we are all you see before you. These
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forms were chosen in accordance to your ratios, but this is the
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last of our species." they echoed without delay.
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"And what species is that?" asked Mr. Swarm.
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"The Protectorate of Nalmyke," came the chorus of nearly human
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voices.
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"We, ourselves, are lost in space; can you help us find our way
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home?" I asked.
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"The Protectorate cannot, but we can take you to those who can."
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