Our first task is obvious: get the human fleet up to speed. And ask them why they’ve shown up, because there has to be a reason for so many ships to be sent here.

The two fleets are, visually, not yet in communication range, and won’t be for twenty minutes. But, due to light taking time to travel the universe, we’re also seeing both fleets as they were something like thirty minutes ago.

So, in about twenty minutes time, their first messages to us will arrive.

“Since they’ve already said stuff, I don’t think we should say anything right now, does that sound correct to you?”

“Yeah, I’d agree with you,” Sylvia nods beside me, also looking over the situation. “One possibly good bit of news is that all three parties will hear all of all the messages. Unless we give out an encryption key, which, I dunno, I don’t think we’re going to. Or is that bad news? Do we want to do that?”

“We will have to see if it is good or bad, but I think it will play in our favour to let everyone know what is going on. As much as I don’t trust a big military fleet, letting them be paranoid sounds worse than any other option. And we have nothing to hide from the Spwihicpéa.”

And so, after twenty minutes of increasingly boring waiting, the comms systems crackle into life, twice over. The game, it seems, is not pulling any punches with the timing of this moment. Which only serves to make me more nervous.

The next game I play on this trip is going to have to be lighter on the plot elements. Maybe a bowling tournament.

But still, I leap into action, and press the waiting button to play the aliens’ message first.

“Greetings, Ash, Watch Guardian of this system! Our many is too numerous to list, and we do not wish to act for those who are not present. But I greet you as Speaker Cparitεi. We have sought and found you for a grave reason: those of you who went before upon the paths of the Gates were extinguished hopelessly, and we seek to continue that now with you. Our failure to hear you is our own, and we hope this failing may be silenced now.”

“Well,” Sylvia says into the silence after the message’s end. “That was a lot of new words for them. Their translators seem to be very much up to the task they’re going to face.”

I can only nod, and begin the human fleet’s message. A man’s voice booms forth, enunciating his words with perfect clarity. “Hail. I am Fleet Commander Spaerets. This situation is under our control. After the failure of our scout to return at the intended time, we were dispatched to search for them, and to defend our systems from any hostile approach. This is a hostile approach. I repeat, this situation is under our control.”

I swear, and looking at Sylvie with a glimmer of fear rocking through my heart, I whisper, “They’ll think the spwihicpéa just admitted to it. We don’t know what they meant, though. Caution is the order of the day.”

“I don’t think Spaerets is going to be one for caution,” she shakes her head.

I hit the record button. “Fleet Commander Spaerets. You are mistaken. This is a first-contact situation! As we were the first to contact them, we have authority. The Spwihicpéa have not acted in aggression, despite both opportunity and technology that would allow it. Your misunderstanding of this situation does not reflect well upon humanity. They have spoken to us with words, not with weaponry.” And then, changing focus as quickly as I can, “Speaker Cparitay. What do you mean when you say that those who travelled through the gateways were extinguished hopelessly? Did you talk to them as we talk now, did they fight you, what happened to them? I fear that the other humans now present here do not understand you, and will engage with you in combat!” I pause to take a breath, trying to calm my thoughts, even as I refocus on what I can say. “I plead with both of you to act with restraint. Bloodshed will merely stain the foundations we have laid so far.” I stop the recording, and turn to Sylvia.

Sylvia hesitates. “I can’t think of a flaw, Ash. And you’re very much right, he has no right to usurp our authority.”

I nod at her confirmation of what I was hoping was the VR system providing a hunch of the correct information. And then, I pause. “I just hope they do not begin to act from only hearing the other’s message,” I shake the worries away, and send my message to broadcast.

And then, again, we must wait. In thirty minutes, we will hear their responses to each other’s messages.

The time passes like honey – as soon as I stop paying attention to it, it flows everywhere and makes a huge sticky mess. I only barely managed to calculate the travel times we might expect for the two fleets to reach the other points of the (definitely not a game design feature) perfect triangle we’ve managed to set up. The answer is ten minutes for the spwihicpéa, and something like three hours for the human fleet.

The Fleet Commander has decided that there is no need for a response at this moment, and holds his silence. But still, Cparitay saw fit to return.

“Commander of Fleets,” Cparitay’s translated voice comes, the translation much more fluent-sounding now, though still strangely emphatic on teeth-noises. “If you seek a hostile approach upon us, we shall respond without pause.”

Sylvia starts laughing. “Yes, excellent Cparitay! That will certainly convince them!”

I grin. “I mean, it has a chance. A very slim one. But nothing we can say will help with that. Just have to wait yet another thirty minutes for the next round.”

A few minutes before the next round actually reaches us, we see the human fleet awkwardly wheel in formation, and begin their journey towards our planet.

Soon enough, I suppose, the next round of communication begins. I again choose to hear Cparitay’s message first. “Your scout began upon the closed path, which we saw only after they had started to travel it. That gate opens upon no exit. No system awaited them. To venture through it is loss and destruction. Your Spaerets seems foolish, and so we will engage in talking to you directly, Watch Guardian Ash. This message is our warning, and our promise. We do not attack without provocation.” With that the message ends, and I see their fleet start to turn in a graceful motion, not so much in formation as clustered efficiently around each other, and all of their ships accelerate towards us, breaking into their faster-than-light bubble quickly.

With no other option left, I allow Spaerets’ message to play as well. “Yes, yes, very well done, Ash.” He spits out my name like it sours his mouth. “You have accepted the lies of these aliens, hook included. Their patience will now pay off in full, except for my caution, and the caution of my commanding officers. And hear how they reprimand me for it!” His scoff comes through loud and clear. “I shall not allow this situation to plunge any further into insanity. You are under our protection. I hope you will not endanger yourselves any further.”

So, to make it perfectly clear, we’ve got about ten minutes until the Spwihicpéa arrive, and then about three hours before Spaerets’ command arrives.

Sylvia places a hand on my shoulder. “We need to respond. If nothing else, we need to warn the Spwihicpéa about this loose-cannon situation we’ve got going.”

I sigh. “But how do we phrase it. Saying we’ve got a loose cannon probably wouldn’t go over very well with said cannon.”

“Tell them indirectly by refusing to back down?” Sylvia suggests.

“But again, the phrasing! We’ve said we have authority. We’ve backed it up as far as really makes sense in the moment. Do we just say it again?”

“Well, we do now have the information that they are only interested in talking to us, so that does back up that we should be the ones doing the talking.”

“Fair point.” I start recording another message. “Fleet Commander Spaerets. The Spwihicpéa have made it perfectly clear that they do not think you relevant to their conversation. Our scout perished in unforseen circumstances, and they have sought us out to inform us of this fact. Your mission is misguided. Stand down!”

Sylvia sighs. “But still, that won’t calm him, based on what we’ve seen so far.”

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t think we can.”

“Fair,” Sylvia nods.

I set it to send.

“And now, our prospective friend Cparitay. Do we ask anything? Do we let them begin the faster communication back-and-forth?”

“I think we should. If nothing else, we should thank the Spwihicpéa for their trust. Also, can I note how easy I’m finding that name to say, now?”

“They say practice is good,” I wink at her. “Speaker Cparitay, I and those who watch with me are honoured by your choice to trust us. I have as yet been the only one to speak to you, but I am not alone.” I give Sylvia a querying glance.

“I am Sylvia, Ash’s watchmate. I don’t know how much I will add to this conversation?”

“As far as it matters, welcome here?” I finish with a chuckle.

I time the message to begin sending only shortly before the Spwihicpéa arrive, feeling like the message is just a bit too informal to let linger for very long.

They slowed before truly nearing the planet, dropping out of their bubbles while still beyond the moon’s orbit, coasting in until they hovered low in space (clearly applying the necessary constant force to remain stationary) above our base on the planet’s surface.

Communication crackled forth again, and, given the small delay involved, I set up the return as well.

“Ash, and Sylvia!” Cparitay’s voice dimly, and the translation overtop of it comes through clearly. “Is your Fleet Commander unusual?”

“Well,” I try to choke down my laugh, “There are plenty of overconfident people around, usually they don’t... persist as long as he seems to be doing.”

“Overconfidence is not unique to your own kind,” Cparitay agrees, with a sound like a clattering follows – I can only guess the Spwihicpéa’s own form of laughter?

“Our scout, though – there is no chance of coming back?”

“No.” Cparitay’s laughter (if it was laughter) cuts short. “The gate has no exit. There is no star along its paths, at least not within our galaxy. Yours is not the first ship to trust the treachery. All who enter it are gone. Whether they are truly dead, or trapped upon the journey, we do not know. But they will not return.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate. Have you considered putting up a sign, or some warning tape? But, thank you for seeking us out. If you were slightly faster, our military might not have prepared a search fleet for them.”

“This was not the only path you might have lain upon, and we searched thoroughly, not hastily.”

“I think Ash may be using a little too much sarcasm at the moment,” Sylvia jumps in.

“I, perhaps yeah, maybe I am.” I nod. Not that they can see that, of course.

Cparitay hesitates. I want to describe the pause as choosing words carefully, but I don’t actually know. “Sarcasm is, at times, a good way of dealing with the less reasonable people around us.”

“Ain’t that true, though,” Sylvia agrees.

“You seem,” I continue, somewhat hesitant myself, “to be very friendly. Do you bring with you some kind of offer of, you know, not firing on each other as we get to know each other, or something down those lines?”

“Ah, yes. We should get around to that part. We are but one member of the galaxy’s many, and you are but one as well. Sorrow does none of us good; unless it is something you seek?”

“Sorrow is not something we seek, for ourselves or for others.”

Cparitay laughs again. “And so it might be, except your Fleet Commander would seem to disagree.”

“I know both sides have been claiming it, but the authority does rest with us. If he continues in his stance, he will not be acting as an agent of humanity.”

“Well.” Cparitay pauses. “I do believe we shall be ready to defend you against any such rogue agents.”

“I just hope that won’t be necessary,” Sylvie replies, wringing her hands.