A fractal made in Apophysis 2.09 with one addition -- a single line for a smile...
When for the first time in galactic history a Byrdle ambassador attempted to make itself look friendly to humanity, it got the smile on the collective entity just right.
“I do believe you all have come in peace,” he sang like a basso profundo nightingale, “but the problem is, you all are incredibly messy. Ever thought about what trans-warp exhaust smells like?”
When your people have a collective beak that is half a parsec wide, you pick up quite a bit more than a human nose might.
“That was our mistake, Ambassador Miirmoll,” I said, and marveled at how their version of the universal translator picked me up as a contralto nightingale. “We apologize for the time-space pollution, and are here to offer you any assistance you need to get that smell out of your region of space.”
Ambassador Miirmoll's lovely warble deepened in gravity – literally. My ship moved a little as the Byrdle collective shifted its mass to make its point.
“Captain Biles-Dixon, is it true that a location of your home planet known as Chernobyl is still not safe for human habitation?”
“Yes, sir, it is.”
“How many centuries has it been, Captain?”
“Three, Ambassador.”
“One of the things that you humans are known for is hopefulness, but you are greatly lacking in humility, Captain – not you personally, for I know that you are saying what you are under orders to say. But if you cannot completely manage nuclear waste from four centuries ago, what exactly do you intend to do with trans-warp exhaust?”
“With all due respect, sir, it is a different kind of pollution, and is actually more workable; we simply slow it down and it dissipates.”
“Oh, Captain?”
“Nuclear decay is on a fixed schedule we can't do anything about, but, trans-warp pollution can be neutralized through carefully targeted warp waves – once it gets back down to around the speed of light, it is just simply regular old entropy.”
If you have never heard a basso profundo nightingale laugh, go meet some Byrdles and bless your ears with that sound.
“Regular old entropy!” he warbled after blessing all our ears on the Amanirenas bridge. “I never imagined that would sound quite so good, Captain!”
“Cmdr. Allemande,” I said.
“Yes, ma'am,” my first officer and science officer said.
“Send over the particulars of the process to the ambassador, and lead the presentation of the material.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Cmdr. Allemande delivered the presentation so well nobody missed my uncle, galaxy-famous science officer Admiral Benjamin Banneker, on the bridge – the power of his mentorship showed forth in the confidence of my first officer.
The Byrdle ambassador was convinced as well.
“Well,” he warbled, “it is good to know humanity puts as much time into learning how to fix its messes as in making them. I will take this information to my high command, and they will be in touch with your high command in due time, Captain. After that, if it is so decided, my people will look forward to working with yours.”
Byrdlearia has long since been a member of the human-led consortium my fleet serves, and, old Ambassador Miirmoll still blesses me and now-Captain Allemande with a call and a laugh, every now and then in his retirement.
