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"I want your squadron out on another patrol as soon as your fighters are spaceworthy again," he said.
"If we got a look at them, then these aliens have probably gotten a good look at you too, which means they'll likely recognize an FS-26 the next time they see one. If they're out here hunting Bugs the same as we are, then we might have a potential ally here. Make sure the next time you boys meet one, everything goes down smoothly."
"Yes Sir," Jaeger replied with a salute...
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The sound of chair legs squealing against the deck was deafening as Jaeger took a seat beside Scratcher, Baker sitting down next to him as they joined the other three hundred or so crew members who were waiting for the presentation to begin.
The mess hall had been cleared, all of the tables had been pushed out of the way, and someone had brought in a projector that had been set up at the front of the expansive room. Above their heads was a maze of criss-crossing pipes, wires, and air ducts that reminded Jaeger that he was in a giant tin can. As large as the carrier was, over a thousand feet long and with a mass of a hundred thousand tons, it somehow still managed to feel cramped. Along with the hangar, the mess was one of the largest rooms on the vessel. As many people as there were crammed inside it, this was only a tiny fraction of the six thousand strong crew compliment, the others would be cycled in and out as their duties allowed for it. Jaeger could see blue and yellow uniforms, humans and towering Krell, even a handful of feline Borealans who looked even more surly than usual.
The sound of a hundred muttered conversations died down as an executive officer walked in and stood to attention before them.
"Quiet down! As many of you know, Captain Fielding has enacted first contact protocols. This isn't a situation that any of us expected to be in, but it's crucial that every single one of you understands exactly what it means, and what your responsibilities are."
He gave the pack of six Borealans a pointed look, their furry ears twitching with irritation. The aliens didn't make good pilots, but they were formidable shock troopers, boasting superhuman strength and resilience. They had claws like meat hooks on their fingers, their eight-foot frames cloaked in fuzzy fur and muscle, old scars visible on their faces and exposed forearms. There were always 'mad cats' on carriers, just in case they were tasked with boarding an enemy ship or leading a landing party. They were about as sociable and as well adjusted as their appearance suggested.
"Now you're all going to watch the video," he continued, a groan passing through the crowd of personnel.
"Don't give me that, I know half of you have probably forgotten most of this shit by now. Pay attention, and let's all do our best to avoid accidentally starting an interstellar war, shall we?"
He stepped aside and took a seat at the front, examining the touchpad that he was holding for a moment before pressing a button on it.
The projector came to life, a device about the size and shape of an ammo crate projecting a hologram into the air above it, filling the available space.
The image quality didn't even come close to that of an actual monitor, it was washed out and slightly transparent, but it was big enough that everyone in the room could see it clearly.
There was a hiss as the built-in speakers came online, and then the fuzzy cloud of colors took shape, the giant image of a man in a blue uniform shown from the chest-up appearing before them. There was a line of white text superimposed across the center of the picture, 'First Contact: What You Need to Know'.
"The Galaxy is a big place," the presenter began, the camera zooming out to follow him as he strolled across a terrible bridge set with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Nobody truly knows what lies out there beyond the stars," he continued as he leaned on a nearby console, actors playing the roles of bridge crew randomly pushing buttons behind him.
"But we can take a few simple precautions to ensure that if we do come across something alien and unknown, we can minimize the potential risks."
"Sir," one of the women who was manning a flimsy approximation of a comms station began, "we're picking up an unknown vessel in the system!"....