(Technically the Dreaded War Moon isn't a capital class ship, but the FFCC ship class categorization system doesn't have a ship class even larger than capital. The committee who set the standards for ship size assumed that any polity with the resources to build something like that would also have the sense to not do that.)

(they assumed incorrectly)

Captain Arthur Monzor did not particularly care about what the brilliant minds behind the FFCC ship class categorization system thought about the Dreaded War Moon. He was more concerned with how it was trying very hard to reduce his ship into very small bits of debris. So he consulted his finely tuned fight-or-flight instincts about how to make that not happen, and now he's very far away from it, in another situation that he also doesn't feel that good about. 

He still thinks he's made the right decisions, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. The moon whose surface is rapidly approaching has lights and structures visible from orbit, which means someone is living there. Which means he and his crew can also probably survive there. If they can safely land somewhere. Which would be easier if there was someone on this planet who could answer his distress call and point out a spaceport or anywhere long and flat.

"Mayday, mayday, this is the Free Trader Initiative. Vessel is making an emergency landing-"

"Captain, cut it out! I am trying to concentrate on getting us down."

Goggles does not like this situation at all; she's at the helm when she's supposed to be in engineering. Astralis is supposed to be the one at the helm, but instead he's in the medbay, which means he's hurt, and she's trying not to think about right now. The passenger is still on the ship and he's supposed to be somewhere else because trouble is following him so if he was somewhere else the trouble would be somewhere else too. Captain is in the right place, which is nice of him, but he keeps talking about how it's an emergency and they have no idea where to land and he needs to stop because she's trying not to think about that right now.

"Look, we haven't heard anything on the radio, not even music or commercials. Maybe this is one of those planets where no one's went there in a villion years so they forgot how to use all their tech, or maybe they don't want to talk to you because you keep talking about how bad the situation is and they're trying to stay calm."

Brother Astralis of the Transcendi Navigator Cult usually tries not to pass judgement on the situations he finds himself in. Each moment is a step on the greater path that the universe is taking on its journey to infinity. So instead of dwelling on past decisions and what would be happening if something was different, experience the present. The only way to get to the future is through the now, after all.

But he's not fully conscious or coherent enough to remember that little speech. Right now, if you asked him what he thought of the situation, his response would probably just be "ow".

Bellerophon, meanwhile, is thinking about how much he dislikes the current situation and about what would have happened if he had made different decisions. Like refusing when they asked him to stay in the Foxtrot subsector for one last assignment. Or considering an alternate career path, if he had taken that videocast deal they offered he would be talking about distant worlds and interstellar politics, instead of doing it himself. But no, for some reason he had to swear an oath to The Constellation Republic, The Rights Of All Her Citizens (and all others who dwell in the light of her stars), and also to the abstract ideal of all humanity being deserving of the rights and freedoms laid out in the First Charter.

(The First Charter very explicitly states that 'all humanity' should be read to include humans with cybernetic or biological modifications, regardless of how distant they are from the baseline human form. It is somewhat ambiguous on the topic of Virtual Intelligences, and disappointingly vague on what to do if the Constellation Republic ever finds an alien species.)

Bellerophon flinches as the ship starts to rock. He wishes he wasn't the kind of person who responds to this kind of situation by silently wishing he had never decided to become anyone important. But it turns out that, for him, the skill of staying cool under pressure when in a tense negotiation doesn't translate to staying cool when he's in a ship that's getting shot at or making a very shaky landing. Idly, he tries to remember that reassuring think the pilot said whenever they were in a bad situation. Something about the path of the universe?

Whether starships can have likes and dislikes is a hotly debated topic; go to any spaceport bar and you'll hear the debate. Someone will explain that "starship animism" just shortcut the human mind makes, trying to understanding a complex system using the part of the mind that models other people. Every Spacer will disagree, and spend hours telling stories about a ship that repaid loyalty by coming through in a tense moment, or betrayed a crew that didn't respect her. 

The Initiative certainly seems to dislike the current situation, though. The flashing red warnings filling every display and shrieking alarms are obvious indicators of displeasure. Is that turbulence trembling, an entirely understandable reaction from a ship suddenly finding herself in an unfamiliar place without her usual pilot at the helm. Or maybe she's shaking with rage at being pushed this hard right after making a jump without being given any time to rest. 

"Steady." He's talking to his ship, he's talking to Goggles, he's talking to himself, he's talking to the universe. 

Goggles is doing so well. It's exactly like practicing with Astralis ready to take over if anything happens, except for the part where it's all real and she thought she would get to finish training to fly the ship on her own before he had to fly the ship on her own. This whole event is being very rude, happening now before she's ready.

Switching from using the maneuver jets to steering with the rudder and fins is tricky, but after a little bump it's  going... mostly smooth. It's just like racing a glider except worse.

It seems like the Initiative is calming down, getting used to the idea of landing here. 

She's still coming in too fast though. Maybe if she tries a banking turn?

One wing starts rattling, turns out that a glancing hit from an earlier battle slightly loosened something. Which now starts to tear. The ship shudders again and groans. 

"OH F-"

"BRACE!"

One look towards the medbay to make sure Astralis is secured, another towards where Bellerophon is sitting to make sure he knows how to brace for impact.

Then he gets into position himself.

SO MANY safety features are activating right now. Even the ones that probably should have failed when the hyperspace jump scrambled a lot of the electronics. Look how still alive everyone is! The Initiative doesn't want the crew to think it's mad at them. It's just really nervous, meeting new celestial bodies is always so-

CRASH!!!!

The Initiative awkwardly introduces itself to the surface of Tarça, with mumbled apologies for the aerodynamic malfunction. 

Çet ducks and covers their head. The sound echos off the hills, drowning out the usual murmurings of farm animals and susurration of the grass.

"Gut wumu wunça?" Çet asks themself, straightening. Anything new in the Haşarlands is bad news.

Would they have heard that in the town? Çet isn't sure, so they turn and start running.

It was indeed audible from the main square in Haşurur. Although from here it produced only a muted roar that rattled a few windowpanes, followed by a deep thumping noise that Dartih felt in his chest.

"Yor gyunagya çetgya Zeterse mu," Dartih requests. "Turgya Wozet."

:You got it, bossman!: Zeterse replies, cuffing the trainee on the shoulder and breaking into a light jog. :Come on, Wozet.:

Ten minutes outside of town, they catch Çet headed the other way.

"Ra mu has?" they call, slowing to a stop and bracing their hands on their knees to catch a breath.

Zeterse shrugs. :No, we've got no idea either. You saw whatever it was?:

"Mu tutero wonçerigy. Nat mu nya çethegy."

:If you didn't see anything, why are you even named Watcher?: she jokes, prodding the trainee back into a jog. :Okay, we'll go take a look. If we find anything we need to evacuate, can we drop it at your farm?:

"Purtot tursagy," Çet allows. They catch their breath for a moment more, before following the guardsmen at a more sedate pace.

:Onward, Wozet! Let's see what there is to see.:

Well, the first thing they see as they round the bend in the road is a small wooden cabin, nestled between a barn to the south and fields to the east and west. The north is conspicuous in how the farm just stops, a few meters short of a line of metal poles that stretch east and west into the distance.

Beyond the poles, larger hills rise. The occasional chalk-outlined trench is cut into the hillsides, and if anyone here had not lived in Haşurur all their lives they would find the shape of the hills themselves vaguely strange.

:Do you remember what to do if we see Haşar?: Zeterse asks, a serious look settling on her face for the first time this morning. :And your sword is prepped?:

She stops them just before the line of poles to wait for Wozet's answer.

"Torhegy," he replies, even as he's double checking that the sword on his hip hasn't suddenly evaporated in the last 15 minutes.

:Okay, let's do this,: she says, stepping carefully past the poles. When nothing immediately happens, she relaxes. :They must be away from the border today. Let's get a move on before they come back.:

The guards jog towards the top of the nearest tall hill. It will make them visible, but it will also give them a better idea of where whatever they're looking for is than 'north'.

What they are looking for is large, and yellow, and made of metal. This means it is Construction Equipment, which is Permitted.

But there is no construction scheduled today, (there is no construction scheduled ever again, but this doesn't bother the Haşar) so they are Investigating.

The Construction Equipment landed across the 4 Microhertz Modulator, jamming up the flow and making it capacitate instead. The 4 Microhertz Modulator is a Necessary Component. Since it is Not Working, the Construction Equipment must be here to repair it.

The Haşar achieve consensus, and pathfind north to continue their routine inspection of the Northern Healthful Regulator. One drone remains, in case the crew in the Construction Equipment need to coordinate with the flock about activating one of the safety shunts before they begin work.

They get near the top of the hill, and drop down to crawl the rest of the way. Zeterse pushes aside some of the long grass and peers into the valley below.

:I don't see anything. It must be over the next rise. I don't see any Haşar either.:

They continue on. Eventually, they see something other than grass (and the occasional chalk pit). A building? A fallen star?

Fortunately (or unfortunately), they also have the mid-morning sun to their backs, so they see the reflective eyes of the Haşar waiting on the far slope.

:Stop. See it there?: Zeterse gestures, making sure not to rustle the grass too much. :I only see one, but they always come in packs. Let's take a moment to see if we can spot the rest of them and if there's a safe way to circle closer or not.:

Wozet crawls up beside her and starts scanning the hills himself. "Gyenigy sizdi nat?" he suggests, gesturing to the ridge to the east.

:Yeah, let's try it,: Zeterse agrees. They shimmy backwards a few paces and carefully circle around behind the ridge, coming up to another vantage point only a hundred yards or so from the ... object. It's clearly what caused the disturbance, since it's plowed up a fair amount of earth, but they really don't know what to make of it.

:So I know I said they always travel in packs,: Zeterse says after a few minutes. :But I really don't see any more. Maybe the others are up over the ridge? And I think if we put the fallen star between us and it, we can get right up to it without it seeing.:

They momentarily (quietly) debate the wisdom of this plan. Eventually, Wozet agrees to keep watch for any more Haşar from the hill to the south, and Zeterse will sneak up on the star to see if there's anything else obvious about it from close up.

She crouches. She creeps. She pokes it with her sword.

The fallen star is:

1. So flattered! The locals think it’s a fallen star! No one thinks of a cheap little frigate like this one as a STAR! 

2. Looking pretty terrible. The outside is looking a bit molten, and that’s only mostly the ablative layer that’s supposed to burn up on a too-fast-reentry. The hull itself is also crumpled and broken. 

3. Unresponsive to being poked with a sword. It might scratch the paint, but by now the paint has been thoroughly scratched already.

The parts with people in them didn’t take the worst of it, so the crew is doing a lot better than the ship.

Goggles is shaken up and is limping a bit; one lens of her goggles is cracked. Still able to get up and move, though, which is more than most can say after not-exactly-landing a starship. She’s pacing around and inspecting how bad the damage is, profaning the names of several gods and constellations whenever she finds something particularly surprising.

Astralis is unconscious and even more injured than before. He has been carefully pulled out of what’s left of the medbay and is now lying on a stretcher. His body twitches and shakes, as if he were having some fitful dream.

Monzor is crouched by one of the holes in the hull, watching the metallic critter on the slope through the scope of a coilgun. The weapon is a bit dented now, as is the captain, but both are built to take a few hits and still function. The critter is a bit unnerving, normally something like that would either leave or start making hostile moves, but it's still just watching the ship with those shiny eyes. So Monzor keeps watching it in return.

Bellerophon is wondering how these people are just walking around and doing things. It took him a while to stop bracing (there might be more impact out there) and get his seat belts off. Now he's slowly testing whether he can still move everything and checking whether all the parts of him are still attached to the other parts of him. They are, though they will complain about being moved and just generally about existing.

Goggles catches a glimpse of the armored guard who poked the ship. These gashes and tears in the hull will need to be repaired to get the Initiative spaceworthy again, but for now they are very convenient windows. She pokes her head out of one and glares. "HEY! No poking, back off!"

Shouting over her shoulder, she lets the others know "We have company! Human looking person with a sword!"

:Woah! Hi! I totally wasn't expecting people:, Zeterse says, backing up a few paces and peering up at Goggles. :I don't know what language that was, though. Do you speak Zebarhagy? I'm afraid I never really picked up any other languages, because of the whole being-understood thing.:

If Goggles pays attention, she will notice that the things Zeterse says seem to just turn up in her head without being decent enough to enter through her ears.

Thoroughly spooked. Goggles has never had someone else's thoughts in her head like that before and does not like it. Especially because whenever powers like that show up in stories other spacers tell, they're bad news. Brain eating wizards or forgotten alien gods or something like that. Stories told at a spaceport bar are always exaggerated, and she seems friendly, but still. Goggles will back away and let the rest of the crew handle it. She wonders if her spaceship repair knowledge makes her brain too valuable to eat or if that's just another reason to eat it, before realizing that's a terrible thing to be thinking about because what if it can read her thoughts? Add that to the pile of things she's trying not to think about right now.

Monzor gives the creature one last look, before deciding that if it hasn't moved yet it probably won't soon, and dealing with the new arrival is more important. He slings the coilgun over his shoulder and walks in that direction.

On the way he collects his passenger. "Diplomat, pull yourself together. We need you for this."

Oh, right. Talking to the locals on an unknown planet. That does seem like something that would be his job.

Bellerophon runs a hand through his hair, fixes his jacket, adjusts his posture and tries to get himself back into the mindset of being the face of a great interstellar civilization. 

By the time they reach the other side of the ship, he is ready to stand in front and speak first. Observing the visitor, he notices the relatively primitive textiles and armor. The sword wouldn't be enough to draw conclusions; some planets, including members of the Republic, still carry swords for ceremonial reasons. Not having any more advanced weapons is telling though, this is probably an uncontacted world. He has been trained in first contact protocols so he knows what to do, though usually he would have an entire team of diplomats with him.  

"Hello. I am Bellerophon, a representative of the Constellation Republic. We are a travelers from beyond the stars. We come in peace." 

After the standard opening, he adds, "We arrived here by accident. One of us is injured, and needs a healer as soon as possible."

Oh -- this looks like an official of some kind? She doesn't recognize the uniform he's wearing (if, indeed, it is a uniform and not just his own eclectic fashion statement), but he has the dignified bearing of someone who expects to be one of the most important people in the room.

:Yeah, I still have no idea what you're saying,: Zeterse replies. :Sorry. Uh...:

Shoot, she thinks to herself. What would people in a star want to know?

:Are you from one of the other moons?: she guesses. :Only, you've clearly fallen from the sky, and that doesn't look like any kind of airship that I'm familiar with. Oh! You might not have been able to see from the other moon -- you've landed in the Haşarlands. There was one on the other hill, last I was able to see.:

"Hm?" Bellerophon is surprised by the telepathy, but in a much more dignified way. He looks a bit taken aback, but only for a moment. Everyone knows that you find strange things on faraway planets, and he has already read some classified documents that suggest the existence of 'psionic powers' in some parts of the sector. 

He can't answer her questions without a language, and isn't yet ready to resort to pantomime or drawing pictures in the dirt. So he just nods to show that he understood her communication. Well, he doesn't understand what a [Haşar] lands is but can assume from context that the creature the captain was watching was [Haşar]. The fact that she called it an airship and mentioned travelers from other moons is promising. If this planet has the tech to travel between moons, despite the primitive armor and weapons, they might have a way to repair the ship.

Holding out a couple fingers in a 'one moment' gesture, he reaches into a jacket pocket and pulls out a seashell shaped device. He asks "Is this a language you understand" and the device repeats it in several known languages. It starts with Basic and the most common variants, then switches to ancient languages and conlangs.  

... can you do that with runes? Or have they somehow trapped a tiny person in a seashell?? Well, presumably if you can fly between moons you can do whatever you'd like.

She's not an expert in languages, but she thinks that the seashell person is trying a bunch of them, presumably to see which ones she understands.

:I'm still not getting any of that,: she says. :I really only speak Zebarhagy. Uh, I can take you into town to see if one of the folks there speak your language? I'd ask Wozet -- he's keeping watch on the Haşar; he's up on the ridge -- but I'm pretty sure he doesn't speak anything else either. Flap your hand yes if you want me to show you back to town.:

She smiles, trying to look reassuring. :I know it's got to be pretty scary, not being able to communicate and having a Haşar lurking. But we'll get this sorted out, I'm sure.:

Meeting a world that doesn’t speak Basic is very rare, one that doesn’t speak any languages at all even rarer. If Bellerophon does make it back, this might be the highlight of his diplomatic career.

He turns to the captain for guidance before replying. “She is communicating with some kind of telepathy, it’s one way so I can’t reply. She offered to take us to her town.”

He feels reassured by the woman’s friendly demeanor, despite their communication barriers. He expected more hostility or at least suspicion. However he’s also un-reassured by the implication that having a Haşar nearby is something to feel scared about.

He was already planning to look for the nearest town, so this makes things easier. He doesn’t like leaving his ship alone with the metallic critter, but Astralis is injured and might get worse, first priority has to be the lives of his crew.

“Tell her we’re leaving, but need a moment. Goggles-“

“Already on it!”

Goggles is headed for the reactor. Best to check on that before leaving the ship, in case there’s any imminent problems. 

If it seems like something bad is about to happen, the emergency fail-safes activate and make the reactor calmly stop reactoring. It’s VERY IMPORTANT that the reactor does not keep reactoring while upset. 

“Everything’s shut down. Nice work, engine, you’re handling this really well.” 

Bellerophon flaps his hand vertically for yes and follows it up with his gesture for wait. He glances backwards at the mechanic heading to the engine, and the captain rummaging through some debris for intact equipment and supplies.

To make conversation, and figure out how worries to be, he tries his best to pronounce ‘Haşar’ in an inquisitive tone, to ask what exactly it is.

:Oh! Yeah, that's almost right. It's more like: "Hasyar" :than: "Hasar", :but people in the South sometimes say: "Hashar" :or: "Hashyar". :'Ş' is the soft version of 'Ç',: she explains.

:Do they not have them wherever you're from? They're, uh, pretty recognizable. I guess I should probably give you the safety spiel, just in case. Sorry if you already know this.:

Her mindvoice takes on the cadence of something memorized.

:First of all, don't go into the Haşarlands. (But since we're already there, that's not much help). If you do, keep careful watch for Haşar and remember your shortest route out at all times. Don't make yourself visible by cresting hills. Stick to the valleys. You can spot them by their gently glowing red eyes, and by their reflective red not-eyes. They are normally low to the ground, 3 feet at most, but can rear up much higher than that if they want to. What one Haşar sees, they all know. So if one spots you, you now need to evade all of them, not just that one. They always travel in packs. (I'm not sure why it looks like there's just one of them on the other hill; that's new behavior). They are very fast, but usually in bursts. If you spot one, your best bet is to immediately start running at a sustainable pace for the border. They fear fire, but not irrationally. If you have a torch or flaming sword,: she says, patting the sword at her side. :then wave it at them if they get too close. They will stop for a moment to re-group, although they won't stop pursuing you. We don't actually know what they do with anyone they catch, because we've never spotted their mouths, but that's actually more terrifying if you think about it.:

She pauses to think for a moment. :Does that answer your question, or should I say more?:

Bellerophon smiles slightly at his attempted pronunciation, and shakes his head to indicate that he does not have Haşar where he comes from. The closest thing to a large predator on his homeworld is a particularly unpleasant rat or dog, and planets that still have animals that could eat people make him uneasy. 

He listens attentively to the safety information, leaning forward slightly and nodding occasionally at key points. Idly he wonders if communication with the Haşar is possible; if they can somehow share everything they see there's probably some way they communicate. Maybe even a similar version of the telepathy he's experiencing?

He nods to indicate that his questions have been answered- at least, the ones he thinks he can ask through the one-way language barrier. Discovering a new language is very interesting, but not having any common language is very inconvenient. Usually that only happens when a society wants to stay isolated from the wider galaxy, and so only teaches a non-Basic language. If that's the case, Bellerophon does know how to negotiate with isolationist world, but if the society is isolationist why is this local being friendly to outsiders? She certainly doesn't seem like she's acting friendly to lure him into a trap. If that was the case, she could have waited for the Haşar to eat whatever-they-do-with-prey-if-they-don't-eat-them him and the crew.

Captain Monzor and the rest of the crew emerge from another break in the hull of the ship. Monzor is wearing a thick jacket, a backpack full of any survival gear that looked intact-enough-to-use. He also carries one side of a stretcher. He makes eye contact with Zeterse and then looks down, to draw her attention to the unconscious and injured person he's carrying. 

He knows about the lack of common language, but still says "We've done basic first aid but we need to get to a trained healer if your town has one, before things get worse." The words might not mean anything to her but hopefully the tone of voice does. 

Goggles is carrying the other side of the stretcher. She is avoiding any eye contact with the brain wizard, and is pretty sure they're about to be taken to some kind of lair, not a town. Captain thinks it's a better idea than staying and trying their luck with the centipede-thing, though, and he usually makes good decisions, but she's can still be worried. 

:Oh! Yikes,: she says on seeing Brother Astralis. :You're in luck. Our circuit healer arrived in town yesterday. If they're in too delicate condition to move much we can leave them at Çet's farm and summon him.:

Zeterse leads the way back behind the hill, keeping a careful watch on the skyline. Once they're out of sight of the Haşar, Wozet crawls backwards and then jogs down the hill to join them.

"Zumarut. Nat Wozet zheçihegy," he says.

:I can translate -- he says hi, he's Wozet,: Zeterse offers.

"Nat moreng do çatugy," (:I was more polite than that:) he complains.

:I ... huh. Uh, anyways, the way out is just around that hill there and then it's a straight shot to the farm,: Zeterse offers.

She leads the way, occasionally looking back to see if they need any help with the stretcher and otherwise keeping a watch ahead. Wozet walks last, scanning the hills behind him every few paces. The grassy hills pass on either side, occasionally sporting a patch of wildflowers. Overhead, birds wheel through the clear morning air and Çenti is visible low in the sky, made pale by the atmosphere.

Çet isn't waiting impatiently for them at the border, because running a farm is actually quite busy. But this is the most interesting thing to happen in the last few months, so they're prioritizing their outdoor chores while they wait to see if they can spot Zeterse and Wozet returning.

They're in the middle of weeding their squash bed when they see a distant figure emerge from between the hills. And then another. And then two more carrying something slung between them.

Çet stands and squints. Despite Zeterse's taunts, there's a reason that they're called Watcher. They realize that it's a stretcher. The only question is, wounded or casualty?

They jog just to the border with the Haşarlands, stopping just short of the poles. "Hamtunguqu nat genit?" they call when Zeterse's close enough to hear.

Zeterse flaps her hand yes, and Çet takes off running towards town for the second time today.

:They've gone to fetch the healer,: Zeterse explains. :We can put him down right after the poles if he should stop moving, or we can put him in Çet's bed in their house. They won't mind.:

They reach the border with no more problems. The wind rustles the oceans of grass around them, and the sun beats down.

Even after doing all that walking while carrying another person, he doesn’t seem that tired. He watches the scenery as they travel, mostly keeping an eye out for any ambushes or any creatures following them. 

When they arrive on the farm, he moves Astralis from the stretcher to the bed. He stays in that room, watching to make sure Astralis doesn’t get any worse and waiting for the healer to arrive. 

When the locals start talking to each other, he holds out his translator device to see if it can start picking up the language. When it does, he gives it a very surprised look. 

The translator isn’t picking up any connections to any known language. Which means it could take weeks, or even months, for the translation expert system to start learning. In fact, he needs to start learning it himself, and feeding the words and phrases he learns into the translator. 

When they get back from to Constellation Republic space—which might be a while, if the whole planet is as low-tech as this farm—he needs to apologize to his languages instructor. He kept arguing about how modern translation devices made the class obsolete, but here he is in the ‘what if you get stranded on one of those planets settled by mad linguists where everyone speaks an incomprehensible conlang’ scenario.

So, what’s this farm like? Dirt and plants and stuff, sure, but do they have electricity? Net, or at least radio? Farming machines?

Goggles starts looking around the outside, but will start poking around in the house if no one stops her. 

There are no farming machines in immediate evidence, although it's possible that they could be concealed in one of the two large barns a bit away from the house. It's the growing season, so there would be no reason to have a harvester out yet.

There is a large stone slab with wooden handles floating with no visible means of support next to a patch of what she might tentatively identify as squash if she has an eye for vegetables. It sits about six inches above the ground, apparently serving as a handcart based on the pile of tools, fertilizer, and general gardening detritus piled on top of it.

If she gets down on the ground and looks, it's quite clear that there are no wheels. Also absent is the ultrasonic whine which low-tech or badly tuned contragravity devices often generate. If she checks for RF emissions, she'll find the entire spectrum silent. Not even the noise you'd expect from an unshielded cable.

In fact, the only radio across the whole spectrum is the extreme-low-frequency pulse of the gas giant's magnetic field ponderously turning, the high-frequency hiss and crackle of a warm summer day, and the familiar pulses of The Initiative's still active emergency distress beacon.

When she tires of the outdoors and moves her focus to the small cabin in which Brother Astralis is resting nobody stops her, and there's not much poking to be done. The house is divided into two rooms. The bedroom contains nothing technological other than a small glowing rod hanging from the ceiling to provide light. There is no wiring leading to it. It's glowing in roughly the same hue as the sun.

The other room has a table and chairs, storage cupboards, and a handloom. More rods are suspended from the ceiling by handspun twine. A large square block of stone sits in the middle of one wall on a slightly raised dias of bricks. It's giving off a faint heat and has concentric circles and swirling lines cut into the top.

Zeterse lets Arthur take the sole chair in the bedroom, and leans awkwardly against Çet's table in the other room.

:It's not far to the village. Çet should be back with the healer soon,: she reassures everyone. :Perhaps in the meantime, Wozet and I can teach you a few words?: she offers Bellerophon. :I'm sort of the worst person for teaching languages, but we can cover the basics.:

Wozet watches Goggles investigate the cart for a few moments, and then turns his attention back when he hears his name. "Turut," (:We can teach you:) he agrees.

Bellerophon leans against the wall opposite Zeterse, so he can watch her and Wozet speak. He goes with the 'friendly and relaxed' lean, and gives the two of them a thankful wave. 

At the same time he is also noticing that Wozet noticed the mechanic poking around, and keeping an eye on that situation in case he needs to defuse any conflicts that start there. 

Goggles does not notice Wozet watching her because she's too busy being very confused. This place has gravity tech but no radio. They have gravtech that's cheap enough to use for a little cart? But they still do their food making with hand tools?!!?!?!?!

Maybe this is the house of one a fancy rich people, someone who can afford to buy a floating cart and who thinks growing food from dirt is fancier than just buying premade food cubes? 

Looking inside the house, they have lights and a heater. No cables, so either they're battery powered or there's some kind of wireless thing, like one of those energy fields some fancy houses have. But there's no generator anywhere on this farm, and no connection to a power grid. So where is the power coming from? Goggles examines the slab for a way to open it up and change the batteries.

There's also that... string thing? Like the ones people use to make cloth on those planets that forgot how to use technology. But this can't be one of those because they still have gravity manipulation. There's no way people forget how to use radio and industrial food and cloth production but still remember how to maintain gravtech. Unless... they don't have gravtech at all.

Goggles steps back outside and pokes a stick between the cart and the ground, to see if it's actual gravity manipulation or just some transparent material holding the cart up.

The stick passes right through, unhindered.

Okay so it is real. Still good to check before jumping to conclusions.

Goggles puts the scanner away and drops the stick, and finds something to sit down on. This is a sitting-down kind of thinking situation, not a pacing-around kind of thinking situation. She gets out a small notebook from her bag, unlocks it, and starts listing which technologies the planet seems to have and which ones it doesn't. The main missing pieces seem to be radio, labor saving technologies for farming or cloth, and weapons more advanced than swords. But they do have gravity tech, lights and heat with no obvious power source, and brain wizards who can talk without talking. Also the critters, but they might be unrelated. 

The explanation that makes the most sense is that there's some high-tech group that builds this advanced tech and gives or sells it to the rest of the people, but they are keeping some things for themselves. The specific things missing make it seem like they're keeping people isolated from each other, spending most of their time on manual labor, and without good weapons. Maybe it's the brain wizards, or the brain wizards are their agents?

She has to tell captain about this! When he's alone though, and only if he doesn't seem like his brain is being controlled. For now she's going to stay here and strategize about how to find these secret high tech people and how to convince them to help with spaceship repairs.

When she's spent a few minutes thinking, she might see a short man in long green robes come careening over the hill at improbable speeds. He doesn't send up a plume of dust, by virtue of riding several inches above the ground on a thin stone slab. His weight is pitched forwards to angle the slab relative to the ground, but as he sails into the farmyard, he leans back until he comes to a complete stop.

Hopping down, he picks up his slab and tucks it under his arm.

"Zumara! Pihoror." he calls, striding towards the house. "Nurhaqu yhini homdarna?"

When Goggles doesn't reply within a few seconds, he raps on the door to the house and peers inside.

"Zeterse zumurut, pihoror. Nat yhini gyenit?" he asks.

:Raymudi! He's in Çet's bedroom, through there,: she answers. :Raymudi's great,: she tells Bellerophon. :He totally fixed Wozet's arm when I, uh, demonstrated energetic target restraint for him.:

"Zentarut Zeterse mu?" he prompts, striding past her into the bedroom. "Nat hamtungagy," he announces as he enters.

:Oh, yeah, sure I can translate. This is Raymudi, he's a healer,: Zeterse explains, moving to lean in the doorway since Çet's bedroom is quite full.

He assesses the patient. Is Brother Astralis awake? Responsive? Breathing? All his limbs attached?

"Mu dore wer?" (:What happened to him?:) he asks.

Whoah!! This guy has a hoverboard? That’s Goggles’ favorite levitating vehicle design!

Goggles looks up at the newcomer, admiringly. The high-tech cabal secretly running things here can’t be that bad if they let people have hoverboards. 

Captain Monzor stands up and makes room. With a level voice he explains the situation to the medic. 

“Ship combat. Room he was in took a hit from some kinetics. Cuts and broken bones, mostly on one side. He got basic first aid, bandages for the bleeding, but the impact of a crash landing made things worse.”

Why is the captain looking to him to translate? This language probably doesn’t even have a word for combat between two starships, and if it did he hasn’t gotten to that in his few minutes of language practice.

He’s also a bit concerned by Zeterse mentioning injuring the other guard. Subtly reminding everyone that she’s a trained fighter, that could be a threat to make sure they don’t cause any trouble. Or maybe meant to impress them? He needs to figure out the cultural norms around violence here, before someone (most likely the captain) causes some misunderstanding.

There will be time to with that later.  For now, Bellerophon attempts repeat the captain’s explanation with the extremely new and unpolished bit of local language he learned. “Sky… house… sky house… down.”

Agh, being this used un-eloquent is why he hated learning languages without translators. He attempts to pantomime something falling and hitting the ground. 

As for the patient… 

Brother Astralis is unconscious, but breathing and moving slightly. All limbs are still attached, but one arm is visibly broken. A whole host of light lacerations and bandages over a couple worse ones are also fairly obvious. 

"Wuntung qu qyasatut?" (:Resulting in fall-like injuries*?:) he clarifies.

He leans down to check Astralis's breathing with a hand held below his nose, and then centers his other hand above Astralis's sternum and adopts a look of concentration.

* This comes across as a medical term, distinguished from illness-like injuries or concept-like injuries

:I think so, yeah. You know that big boom a little while ago? That was them landing,: Zeterse explains.

"Nat nya çankara. Ramamu dat pengatgya, Nat do hununtarar?" (:I've got him stabilized. Will you help me set his arm?:) he asks the Captain, who is best positioned to assist. "Pengatgya mu pihor," (:Put it here,:) he instructs, gesturing to show how the arm should be positioned.

For someone who looked like some kind of mystic, he’s acting like a normal doctor. Monzor knows how to deal with that. 

“Yes, I can.”

He holds the arm and moves it into place, and generally follows the healer’s directions, keeping any concern or curiosity to himself.

Goggles stands in the doorway of the house and tries to listen in. She needs to know what’s going on, but there’s already too many people in there so going inside is off the table. 

After failing to hear anything, “probably using brain wizard powers instead of talking” and circling the farmhouse looking for but failing to find windows, “okay what kind of civilization invents antigravity before glass”  she gives up and just lingers near the doorway waiting. 

With the captain's help, Raymudi sets Brother Astralis' bones, and then begins carefully attending to his various scrapes in order of severity. He asks Zeterse to put on a kettle of hot water, and uses it to carefully clean each one before passing a hand over it and making it close up.

It's boring, repetitive work, but he's making good progress on getting him cleaned up.

Now that's why the doctor is dressed like a mystic. Magical healing without even touching the patient. Monzor watches the process closely and, not seeing any signs of illusion, is somewhat awed. Then he wonders if the process also works in reverse, and if so do the people here have countermeasures against magically appearing wounds?

Despite visibly impressed awed and a bit threatened, he continues assisting when he is needed and staying back to watch when he is not. 

Looks like they don’t need any more attempted translation in here. Also Bellerophon is getting a bit nauseous from watching the healing.

Time to leave the room and see what more can be learned about the local language. 

Zeterse follows him back into the main room and catches his eye. :So, where were we? I guess we covered basic vocabulary, or at least the things that I can point out from here. ... I guess probably that means it's time for grammar, although that is very much not my strong suit. Wozet, let me know if I get too off base, okay?:

She thinks for a moment before continuing. :I'll start with classes -- there are 5 classes of word: Respected persons, Adult humans and predictable things, Children and trees, Unpredictable things and concepts, and Small animals and inanimate objects. Things can also be Respectable or Unrespectable, or both. If they're Respectable, you can treat them as though they were one class higher in order to confer respect. If they're Unrespectable, you can treat them as though they were one class lower in order to confer disrespect. But you can't increase the class of something that isn't Respectable or lower the class of something that isn't Unrespectable -- that isn't grammatical. Children are the only things that are both Respectable and Unrespectable.:

Wozet interjects with "Sizdihot moreŋ zaŋut pengatugy," (:Easterners treat everything as though it is Respectable:).

:Uh, right,: Zeterse concurs. :And what class two things are affects how you say the verb. Like, the fact that Wozet said 'give' instead of 'give' is because respect is a concept. Whereas an easterner who was saying that people from Barhagy make the Respectable/Unrespectable distinction might say 'give' instead, as a mark of disrespect, because they don't care that adult humans aren't Unrespectable.:

Bellerophon sets the five classes to memory, but disagrees with them. How can concepts rank lower than trees, don't they know how important concepts are? He has an imaginary argument with whichever mad linguist invented this language, which almost distracts him from learning grammar. In this imaginary conversation, he does concede that raising or lowering something a respect-class is an interesting use of the classes. However, it's also a diplomatic incident in the making, if he accidentally refers to someone with the incorrect amount of respect.

He wonders how bad it would be to defect to the Easterners, whoever they are, just to avoid having to memorize which things are respectable and which are unrespectable. 

A few questions, broken and ungrammatical:

1. things neither respectable nor unrespectable?

2. Easterners?

3. Say 'give' and 'give' with voice?

:Everything is at least one of Respectable and Unrespectable, I think,: Zeterse answers. :Easterners are the people living in Sizdor. It's a country on our eastern border, about 50 miles from here. We've occasionally been at war, mostly over rights to the peninsula, but right now we're at peace.:

Zeterse exchanges a look with Wozet.

:My translation thing, I can't really turn it off. Wozet, would you?:

"Pengatugy, pengat, pengatat," Wozet supplies.

:That's person gives concept, person gives person, and tree gives concept,: Zeterse explains. :Not that you'd like, normally say those latter two.: