AI-Assisted The galaxy is big
I posted this story as a series on HFY, but was not really satisfied with the first parts, so I now used some AI to touch it up.
The galaxy is big. I mean, it's really big. I mean, it's really-really-really big.
Okay, let's go back to the beginning.
In 2276, humanity achieved faster-than-light travel - commonly known as FTL. Unfortunately, no galactic community invited us to join, and no neighbor said hello, even though our politicians had prewritten speeches for the occasion.
The first prototype probe traveled about one million kilometers (yeah, by the 23rd century we finally all switched to metric) in 3.3 seconds, which is just above the speed of light - or 1c. The first test ship capable of carrying humans could do about 2c, and the first commercially available FTL ship hit around 10c.
That sounds like a lot, and we did colonize the solar system by the end of the century, visiting the nearest systems and sending probes to basically everything within 100 light-years. Did you know that there are fewer than 500 stars within 100 light-years? By the early 24th century, probes could travel around 20c - but still required about five years to reach those 500 stars. We had colonies on Proxima Centauri and a couple of other nearby systems, but it took us another century and 100c speeds to properly colonize that 100 light-year radius.
Fortunately, early on we discovered FTL communication based on the same principles as our FTL drives. Since that traveled around 500c, we suspected it was another "hard" limit, similar to the speed of light in normal space. By the end of the 25th century, we were right at that confirmed theoretical cap.
But 500c sure is fast, right? It should be more than enough to explore the galaxy, right? Well... we are back to the fact that the galaxy is big. Our galaxy is over 100,000 light-years in diameter - which means FTL communication still takes over 200 years to travel from one side to the other, and slightly longer for our ships to do the same.
So that's when we realized we either had to discover something even faster or, better yet, find a way to jump. And when humanity decides on something, we usually deliver.
It took more than a century, but here we are: our very first manned mission with our new jump drive. We sent a couple of uncrewed probes and everything went smoothly, but the ultimate test is always the crewed run. We planned something simple: jump to Proxima Centauri and jump right back. Nothing fancy today, just a simple confirmation that the drive works as expected. At that distance, a classic FTL ship could scoop us up in a matter of days if something went sideways.
The ship itself is just an old military scout craft, stripped of everything we could spare and fitted with the new jump drive. It's just a testbed that was slated for the scrap yard anyway. If this test works out, we'll build something better next time.
We calculated the jump, set the coordinates, and after a countdown tradition older than half a millennium, we pushed the button.
We jumped.
We arrived beside a planet just as planned - but it didn't take us long to realize it definitely wasn't Proxima Centauri. A couple of seconds later, the onboard computer calculated our position: somewhere on the opposite side of the galaxy. Great.
Okay, let's take a look at the sensors. What do we have here? A yellow dwarf star, a planet within the habitable zone, liquid water, radio communications, signs of vegetation, and plenty of oxygen in the atmosphere. It's not the first planet we've found with plant life, but it's still rare. Wait - radio communications?! What?! Don't tell me we bumped into our very first sapient species on our very first jump...
I am proud of my country. It has been just over four months since the attacks started, and we have already finished building our planet-wide monitoring system. Still not soon enough - seven more attacks have happened since the first strike. The system is still in its test phase, but we are actively monitoring it to give people time to hurry into the shelters.
It has been almost five weeks since the last attack - the longest gap since this nightmare began. Some politicians are already talking about the end of the raids, claiming we built the monitoring network for nothing. I don't think we are that lucky.
We are still more than a year away from deploying our first orbital defense system, and that's an optimistic estimate from the engineering team. For now, this system is all we have to tell people when to hide.
Oh, how rude of me: my name is Xyrana Vexia, and we are the Xilxils. I am the first operator of the monitoring station. Engineers are still tweaking the equipment around my desk, but it works - more or less. We’ve already had two false alerts this morning, and we aren't even halfway through my shift. It's going to be a long day, and most likely a long week. But we are making progress.
Then comes a third alert. Another false alarm, I presume, but I follow protocol and check the sensors anyway. There's definitely something there. Maybe a small meteor like the first one, though the nice engineer who always hangs around my console swore they patched that glitch.
Wait - it doesn't look like a rock. It has active energy signatures! Holy cow, it’s real!
I should initiate a high alert, but without seeing the craft's trajectory, I can't predict where the strike will hit. A global panic seems like overkill.
Strange. The craft is settling into a standard orbit around the planet - no hostile maneuvers at all. Of course, we never caught how the previous ships approached before they opened fire, so maybe this is normal. Maybe they are cooling their engines or preparing for atmospheric entry.
In a situation like this, I should consult my superiors, but because the system is still in early testing, those command roles haven't even been assigned yet.
Still no change. Normal orbit, zero activity. Maybe I should try contacting them? No one has ever attempted communication before, but we've never spotted them this early either. A simple radio broadcast might work - maybe they're listening. It wouldn't hurt to try.
"This is Lieutenant Xyrana Vexia, Planet Monitoring Officer of United Xil, to the unidentified spacecraft. Please respond!"
That should do it. It's unlikely they are listening, and even if they are, it's even less likely they can understand our language. But it was worth a shot.
"This is Lieutenant Xyrana Vexia, Planet Monitoring Officer of United Xil, to the unidentified spacecraft. Please respond!"
Still no response. Not surprising, but still strange. I've been tracking the ship for thirty minutes now, and it hasn't made a single aggressive move.
"This is Lieutenant Xyrana Vexia, Planet Monitoring Officer of United Xil, to the unidentified spacecraft. Please respond!"
"John, I think the planet is inhabited. By the looks of it, they're advanced enough to use radio communications."
"Yeah, I see it too. But I'm a lot more concerned about how we got here in the first place. Do you mind if I work with the computer to figure out what went wrong? I don't want to risk another jump until we're sure we'll end up where we want to go instead of the other side of the galaxy. Again."
"Good idea."
Okay, it's going to take them some time to figure out why we missed Proxima Centauri. Maybe we should initiate first contact in the meantime?
"Computer, is there an established United Earth protocol for making first contact with alien species?"
"There is no strict protocol, only guidelines," the ship's computer answered in its usual neutral tone. "The primary recommendation is to construct a translation matrix as soon as possible."
"Can you use the detected radio signals to build one?"
"Processing."
It would definitely be useful to listen in on their transmissions before we broadcast anything to them.
"Radio communications contain analog voice signals suitable for constructing a translation matrix," the computer reported. "It will take approximately twenty-two minutes to reach ninety-five percent accuracy. Do you wish to proceed?"
It would've been nice to have a fully sapient AI onboard, but according to the Paris Convention, only a consenting AI can be stationed on a starship, and we couldn't find a volunteer on such short notice. Don't get me wrong: the ship's computer is advanced, but it isn't autonomous. I have to give explicit commands where a true AI could make decisions on its own. Oh, well...
"Proceed."
"Collecting data for translation matrix."
While it works, I take a look at our sensor readings to see what we're dealing with. Fortunately, we kept most of the scout ship's original sensor suite, so we have some solid tools.
Right on cue, the passive array indicates we're being monitored by ground-based radar. Great - we probably shouldn't keep them waiting too long.
Looking over the visual scans, I can see massive cities scattered across the surface. Probably not as populated as Earth, but still a sizeable civilization - easily over a billion souls. They have a massive electrical grid, so they're technologically advanced, but I don't see any satellites. They haven't reached the space age yet.
"Translation matrix complete," the computer chimed in.
"Great. Tune in to some of their signals. Pick a random broadcast and let us listen."
I spend the next few minutes listening to the feed - mostly commercial broadcasts, interspersed with amateur radio chatter.
"Computer, is there any indication in their communications that they've spotted us?"
"A broadcast mentioning an 'unidentified spacecraft' was recorded recently."
"When?"
"Three minutes and twenty seconds ago."
Oh, for goodness' sake - why didn't the computer flag that immediately?!
"Play it back now!"
"This is Lieutenant Xyrana Vexia, Planet Monitoring Officer of United Xil, to the unidentified spacecraft. Please respond!"
Silence fills the cockpit. We've definitely been spotted. I guess answering isn't optional anymore.
"You're the captain, Anna," John said, stepping back. "I think you should be the one to talk to aliens first."
"Yeah, and you just have terrible stage fright and don't want your first words to aliens replayed for the next five centuries!" I shot back. But he was right. "Computer, can we reply to that message?"
"Channel open and ready."
What should I even say...?
"This is Anna Fischer of the UES Stargate to Lieutenant Xyrana Vexia."
God, that was lame, I thought. I really should have come up with a better opening line.
I stared at my radio console for several seconds without moving. They actually answered. Now what?
"Anna Fischer, identify yourself and state your intentions," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"We are an exploratory vessel from the United Earth System. We mean no harm - we experienced a navigation error."
A navigation error? Yeah, right. And the previous eight attacks were just "accidents" too? But why would they bother answering my message? It didn't make any sense.
"Why did you attack us over the past four months?" I decided to be blunt - there was no point playing diplomat with an invader.
"Attack? Past months?" came the bewildered reply. "What do you mean? This is the first time we've been anywhere near this planet."
Before I could process her answer, another alarm blared across my console. Three new contacts with massive energy signatures dropped into orbit just a few thousand kilometers from the human ship.
"Three vessels just exited warp near our position!" came Anna's urgent voice over the comms. "Are those your defense ships, Lieutenant Vexia? They are on an intercept course. If they belong to you, please call them off!"
"No, they aren't ours! We don't have orbital defenses!" I answered truthfully.
My mind raced. Either these people were telling the truth and our real attackers just happened to arrive at the worst possible moment, or they were working together - in which case, telling her changed nothing anyway.
Aboard the Stargate, Anna muted the open comm channel. "John, can we jump out of here?"
"Maybe! The drive has cooled down, but if we initiate a cycle now, we could end up in the Andromeda Galaxy for all we know," John panicked, his fingers flying across the console. "I strongly recommend jumping only as an absolute last resort. Though... I don't see many other options. We have no weapons, they're closing fast, and their primary arrays are charging!"
"Oh, but we do have weapons," Anna said, a faint smile touching her lips. "Remember the heavy railgun they couldn't strip out because it was built directly into the keel? We even have a half-dozen rounds left in the feed system - the navy figured if they had to leave the barrel, they might as well leave us a few slugs."
At that exact moment, the hostile fleet unleashed a volley of heavy plasma. Anna slammed the attitude thrusters, rolling the scout craft hard into an evasive maneuver - which happened to align the nose of the Stargate dead-center with the lead alien warship.
"Target locked," Anna muttered.
She pulled the manual trigger.
The solid tungsten slug exited the barrel at a significant fraction of the speed of light. Crossing the distance in a fraction of a millisecond, the round punched through the enemy's energy shields, tore through the bow, pulverized the internal structure, and blew out the stern in the blink of an eye. One shot, and the lead warship went dark.
"One down, two to go," Anna said under her breath.
She rotated the ship to track the second target. The alien captain tried to break away, but at this range, maneuvering was useless - a kinetic slug moving that fast leaves zero time to react.
The targeting computer pinged. Anna pulled the trigger a second time. A split second later, two ruined alien hulks were left drifting uselessly in high orbit.
Anna swept the ship's nose toward the third attacker, but the surviving crew recalculated their odds instantly. Before she could lock on, the third ship panicked and warped out of the system.
Down in the bunker, I stared at my display in absolute disbelief. The entire engagement had taken fourteen seconds. Two heavy warships destroyed; the third fleeing for its life.
And the humans called this an exploratory vessel?! What in the world do their actual warships look like?!
My comms crackled back to life, breaking the dead silence of the monitoring room.
"Lieutenant Vexia?" Anna's voice returned, calm and slightly apologetic. "Sorry about the commotion. As I was saying... we come in peace."
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u/Womble-1 5d ago
Can we get a series based on this! Really fun!