**A.L.I.'s Log, Supplemental**
**Shire Base Holding Facility**
**Christening Date plus 93 days (estimated)**
The tray is offered.
Food bridges the gap.
Words build slowly.
The natives watch.
Trust begins.
Carefully.
A.L.I. and Commander Voss entered the quarantine cell carrying a small tray of reheated jerked meat rations and fresh vegetables harvested that morning from the hydroponics farm. Two water bottles completed the offering. A.L.I. wore the same standard black uniform as on her previous visit, lieutenant bars visible on the collar. Voss had changed into the standard black uniform with gold trim and gold commander pips to present a less threatening appearance. The door sealed behind them with a soft hiss.
The male rabbit-like native immediately moved in front of the female cat-like one, his posture defensive but not aggressive. The female watched from behind him, ears still flattened, her tail curled tightly around her legs. Both showed visible bruises from the fall the previous day, but their movements were steady.
A.L.I. set the tray on the low table built into the wall and stepped back to give them space. "We brought food," she said slowly, enunciating each word with care. "Meat and vegetables. Water. You must be hungry after the long day."
The male native eyed the tray warily. He reached out and picked up one of the water bottles, turning it in his hands as if examining an unfamiliar tool. "Water," he repeated, testing the word. His accent was thick but recognizable. "Why give?"
A.L.I. nodded, keeping her voice calm and measured. "You are our guests. We want you to be comfortable. We want to talk and learn from each other. No harm."
Voss remained near the door, arms at her sides, observing without speaking. A.L.I. continued the conversation, pointing to the tray. "This meat is jerked. It is cooked and preserved. The vegetables are from our farm. They are fresh."
The female cat-like native leaned forward slightly, her curiosity momentarily overcoming fear. "Farm?" she asked, the word coming out with a questioning lilt. "Like... growing place?"
A.L.I. smiled faintly and nodded. "Yes. We grow food in special domes. We use light and water to make plants grow quickly. This is how we feed ourselves."
Thistle Ear picked up a piece of jerked meat and sniffed it cautiously before taking a small bite. He chewed slowly, then nodded to Sylva. "It is safe," he told her in their dialect before switching back to the broken trade tongue. "Tastes like dried venison. Strong."
Sylva took the other water bottle and drank deeply, her ears relaxing slightly as the cool liquid reached her throat. "Why keep us here?" she asked A.L.I. directly, her voice still edged with caution but gaining strength. "We watched because your airships are loud and strange. We protect our village. You took us after the fall. What do you want from us?"
A.L.I. crouched down to their level to appear less imposing. "We want to understand you," she replied honestly. "Your people, your way of life. We are new to this world. We build our home in the meadow, but we do not want to harm anyone. We want to know if your village is close. If your people are safe."
Thistle Ear exchanged a glance with Sylva. He chose his words carefully. "Our village is far. Hidden. We are scouts. We watch many things. Your airships make a lot of noise. Your lights burn all night. We came to see if you are in danger."
Voss spoke for the first time, her tone firm but not unkind. "We are not here to conquer. We are here because we were brought to this world by accident. We are trying to survive and build a safe place for our own people." A.L.I. translated the essence of Voss's words as best she could with the limited vocabulary they shared. "We... not enemies. Accident brought us here. We build safe place." Sylva tilted her head, studying A.L.I. closely. "You speak like us but differently. Your eyes have light inside. Are you human like them?" She gestured toward Voss.
A.L.I. smiled gently. "I am different. I am made to learn and help. I am called Ali. I am learning your words so we can talk better." Thistle Ear took another bite of meat, chewing thoughtfully. "You ask about our village. We ask about yours. How many of you? What do your airships carry? Why do you watch the ridge?" A.L.I. answered honestly within the limits of security. "We are many, but only a small group is here on the surface. The airships carry people and supplies. We watch the ridge because we saw you there. We want to know if we are safe."
The conversation continued in this measured exchange, each side testing the other with simple questions and careful answers. Vocabulary grew slowly but steadily as A.L.I. repeated words and phrases, correcting pronunciation where needed and noting new terms the natives offered. Voss remained mostly silent, observing the interaction while the marines stood guard at the door. From behind the observation glass, Nolan and Solkaman watched the exchange unfold. The language barrier was yielding, one careful sentence at a time.
Captivity held questions unanswered.
Language opened careful doors.