The folder on the desk, marked with a Canonn Interstellar logo (yes, that was the right spelling) was slowly growing fatter.
Two years ago, Thargoids were a distant memory and as far as everyone knew, the lack of sentient life out in the Galaxy was a combination of “having been nuked from orbit” by humans of generations gone by and the fact that he hadn’t found any yet.
Then…. there were rumours that strange probes had been discovered in the Pleiades… scanning your ship and broadcasting a signal in return. Following that, strange organic “barnacles”, then what only can be described as “a pair of space bollocks” and onward to weird ruins and abandoned alien wrecks.
A few planets had weird organic mushroom growths on them…. The Formidine Rift was just another mystery for crazy people.
Nothing sentient, nothing to talk to, nothing threatening to ask to be “taken to your leader”.
Then. An Alien craft – looking for all intents and purposes like a giant flower, grabbing ships out of supercruise and disabling them, then scanning and flying off without communicating. The ruins woke up – monoliths started reacting to commanders. We had confirmation that the owners of these ruins were “The Guardians”.
“What were they guarding against,” mused Vin. “and if they’re no longer guarding against whatever needed guarding against, is it a coincidence that they have woken up just as we discover this new alien race?”
He printed the latest set of news articles from Galnet – talking of strange Guardian related sexual habits (why did it ALWAYS boil down to sex?). Digital communications couldn’t be trusted – they could be hacked, deleted, adjusted. Paper copies of things were essential. you could grab them and run when needed. A couple of blurry pictures paperclipped to the top.
Something was going on out there and Vin wasn’t convinced it shouldn’t be filed under “bad news”.
“Something wicked this way comes”