The research mission was a disaster. Of course, they had calculated the probability of failure, and their chief statistician had composed a painstaking report theorizing what problems might arise. A planet such as this, teeming with a variety of sentient life that mostly coexisted peacefully (a conclusion formed after a longer observation period than normal, considering the difficulty the crew had in ascertaining the dominant species – eventually, the species with the greatest number of permanent structures won on a randomized gamble), needed the utmost care in their approach.
But no, no no- this managed to exceed the expectations of even their ship’s computer. At first, they had chosen a hardy zone appropriate for their own survival: bountiful access to the main water source, enough radiation of the correct spectrum to ensure sufficient regeneration should one of them become injured, and cool winds. The last had been the suggestion of Raijla, and after a brief scan of the lower-level atmosphere, considered innocent enough that the little luxury was permitted.
It had proven the main obstacle in their mission. While the conditions remained favourable for a few days – and how long they were on this planet! – it deteriorated after that. The cool winds were a precursor to something stronger, the skies darkening with a burgeoning, far off screech that intercepted communication. Unable to hear their teammates’ increasingly distressed clicking, all of them resorted to using their personal recording devices to devise a back-up strategy.
Being forced to relay messages to each other via the ship’s system was tedious and frustrating, but the geographical mapping system managed to find an alternate shelter. There, they were forced to finally meet the dominant species of the planet, following the nearest group’s path to a semi-sheltered cave. Uncertain of their hosts’ reactions, they kept to themselves; it didn’t last very long, and with trepidation they established their first tenuous line of contact with the alien species.