714 Arrival

In the silent darkness of space, if one focused on a specific point with utmost precision, they might notice the faintest distortion in the light—a subtle bending, almost imperceptible to the naked eye. It resembled the phenomenon of gravitational lensing, where light curves around a massive object. Yet, this was no ordinary lensing effect. Only the most sensitive instruments, positioned in close proximity, could detect the anomaly within the vast emptiness of the void.

But that subtle light distortion would go unnoticed by most, as something far more conspicuous dominated the scene. A ship, large and unmistakable, coasted through space, its presence impossible to miss. It made no effort to conceal itself, traveling at sub-light speed in the same direction as the mysterious blobs that bent light around them. Its open, steady approach seemed to signal a lack of ill intent, as if the ship’s very demeanor was an attempt to assure any observers that it posed no immediate threat.

“Okay, let’s start gearing up for our meeting,” said Baraka as he rose from his chair in the ship’s canteen, his voice steady but commanding. Without hesitation, he headed toward the assigned armory.

"Yes, sir," his team members replied in unison, quickly abandoning their meals. They followed Baraka into the armory, a room not far from where they had been sitting. Inside, the crew began suiting up in their power armor, the rhythmic sounds of gear locking into place filling the room. Despite being hours away from their destination, the team prepared with practiced precision, understanding the need to be ready long before the moment arrived.

With all the power armor and suiting equipment aligned neatly on the right side of the armory room, the team finished suiting up and moved to the left wall, which had opened to reveal an array of weapons. Each weapon was carefully placed in racks marked with their corresponding owners and specialties.

"Why are we still using these?" one soldier asked, grabbing his weapon from the rack, his tone slightly incredulous. "I'm pretty sure we have new weapons a few generations ahead of these."

Baraka, the team leader, finished securing his own weapon and glanced over. "In case things go south and they manage to get their hands on our weapons, we want them thinking this is the best we’ve got," he explained calmly. "Let them underestimate us. It works to our advantage. Besides, these are more than enough to handle any carbon-based lifeforms."

After he said that he put on his headgear, and it seamlessly integrated with the rest of his suit, creating a fully self-contained environment. The faint hum of the suit’s systems activating filled the room as the rest of the team followed suit, preparing for whatever awaited them.

"Based on the countermeasures they put in our ship, giving us the latest weapons should be the least of their worries," the soldier muttered, recalling the debriefing about the extensive precautions taken. The leadership had been so cautious that even he found it bordering on paranoia. The ship they were on had technology at least fifty generations behind, and the engines were designed to prevent faster-than-light travel. They didn’t even want the possibility of advanced tech falling into the wrong hands.

On top of that, the crew was exclusively human, a deliberate move to conceal the existence of new species—something that might provoke conflict just by being revealed.

“They're just hoping for the best and preparing for the worst,” Baraka replied, his tone steady. “They know Murphy’s Law is always lurking around the corner. That’s why they’re not leaving anything to chance.”

The team finished securing their weapons and putting on their headgear. As Baraka gave the order, “Okay, let’s move out and meet our communication team. We’re in operation mode now,” the atmosphere shifted instantly.

The playful banter evaporated, replaced by a sharp focus. It was as if a switch had been flipped—an ingrained response from their rigorous training, signaling that it was time to get serious.

The moment he said that the atmosphere in the room changed as all of their playfulness disappeared immediately as those words were like a trigger something ingrained in them during training for when they are in operations.

In disciplined silence, they moved out of the armory and headed to their assigned stations. Baraka led a small team directly to where the members of the Ministry of Exterior were located, ensuring everything was in order for the final checks before they headed to the Captain's room with them.

The mission was about to enter its critical phase, and there was no room for error.

.

A few hours later.

As the ship drew closer to the object that had been steadily approaching their star system for the last half-decade, they reached the distance where they could use their visual equipment for a thorough inspection.

Without hesitation, the ship's captain initiated the activation of the visual observation systems as soon as they entered range. As the machinery came online the screens in the control room flickered to life, as they started to display their gathered real-time data and images, which would be the first time they visually saw it as in the past they could only clearly monitor and observe it through mana observers only due to distance.

“Now that is a different way to make ships,” the captain remarked, studying the images that were being updated for everyone aboard.

The ship’s crew watched intently, absorbing every detail. The object before them was unlike anything they had seen: an enormous, oval-shaped vessel with an exterior covered in what appeared to be a rugged, stone-like surface. The texture resembled a pockmarked moon, suggesting it was designed to shield against space debris and impacts.

The surface was dotted with evenly spaced massive holes, from which fluctuating flames of varying intensities emitted. These seemed to be the vessel's engines, active despite being at rest and are currently in the vacuum of space.

They, the observers speculated whether the engines were in use to maintain position or to shield the engines themselves from potential impacts as they didn’t have the protection the ships surface had, but these were just theories.

The captain focused on the mission at hand, “Bring us to a full stop,” he ordered.

The crew swiftly carried out the command, initiating the final deceleration process. The ship eased to a complete stop, the vibrations from the engines subsiding as they steadied themselves.

Taking a deep breath, the captain prepared for the next step, “Start sending the communication signals,” he instructed, bracing for the response that would follow.

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