In the past near decade, something strange had happened. Any weapons were morphed to flowers or something otherwise pretty and useless for violence. With a whisper of, "Now, you can hug without fear~". All electronic and technological devices were lost to rose bushed and grape vine. Hunger was lost, and cures were found in the planet life when needed.
The earth itself seemed to whisper in giggles to its inhabitants encouraging calibrations and exuberance. Violence was denounced by the whispers as truly bad vibes. These bad vibes were prevented by hugging vines, trees, or even a bears depends on the day and season.
Military vehicles. bases, and the like were no unapproachable gardens of flowers with no working equipment.
The small amount of technology that remained, a single space dock, with one truly tye-dyed out communication technician was a veritable garden paradise in space, a marvel of hydroponics.
This techie hippie sent back a response, Prepare to dock, and you will be hugged.