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We named them after poets.

That is all Doctor Howard Nygun, Secretary Researcher, can think as he power-walks through the cramped hallways of the quarantine zone. Robin Hyde, Natalie Diaz, Radcylffe Hall, Julian Aguon, and Alicia Ostriker. Five poets for five satellites to connect Inkinvuld to Earth. He adjusts his labcoat twice over, the stupid sleeve getting stuck on his shoulder-mounted breathing apparatus.

Howard's not one for poetry, but he's read the poems on the plaques back in Houston. Pretty things, all about those connections and shit. Ostriker's was about waiting for the light. (Human Ostriker, not the new and bizarre satellite Ostriker. If that's even what that message means).

Fuck, nothing about this damn job is fucking easy. He almost tripped over someone's foot in his hurry to the meeting room.

To be fair, he was warned. Everything preceding now has been a warning. The training to even have your application considered was long and trice as tedious. Filled to the brim with instructors practically screaming that this is more than just uncharted territory, this was the edge of human imagination. Howard was trained to prevent the spread of alien diseases, to avoid cross contamination of any biological or nonbiological Earth materials into extraterrestrial spaces. Howard was trained to be apart of the group of humans to make first contact with intelligent non-human lifeforms. Everything about this fucking job is about being first.

So, if all that training was for nought because it didn't include sentient robots floating in the goddamn void, he's going to be pissed.

To be fair, they have no idea if thats what is anomalous message means. This is more likely a hacker that accidentally got too attached to his and Vera's drama that they decided to start sending fan mail. Cover blown. Mystery solved. A new patch for the com and secsystems, and boom! Problem over!

Howard has a funny feeling that this won't be so easy.

Five poets. Five satellites. One massive issue. A job all about being the first.

The sliding door yields as Howard finally gets his coat to sit right on his shoulder. Doctor Bernard Benner and Doctor Aleska Yue are already hunched together talking shit. Doctor Isabella Mendez has already begun chewing her fingers. A gaggle of grad students sit off to the side, eyes wider than their clipboards.

"Hey, How," Aleska starts, "Happy crisis,"

"Ha, ha," he rolls his eyes.

The moment he sits down, one of the more shakey-looking grad students stands up. They clear their throat, adam's apple bobbing.

"Good afternoon, doctors. I am Greg Robin, and uh. I'm the representative speaking for the cybersecurity league here at Secundis. Um, yeah. Good news first! I guess. Um,we have no reason to believe this is first contact. The syntax is entirely too familiar with our combined common. And, there's no evidence of outside influence on our com or secsystems,"

"So we have no idea what's happened?" Aleska asks.

"No ma'am,"