Governor Grenness felt almost too nervous for words.  “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” he said.  It was the second time he’d thanked the being before him.

Ambassador Kell merely stared at him, not acknowledging it this time.

“Why did you wish to meet?” he asked instead.

“You have no idea the meaning it has for us,” Grenness continued.  “I was terrified upon meeting you, you know.”

“I do,” Kell replied.

Grenness laughed.  “Of course a messenger of the Lord of Dawn would know – you see right through me, don’t you?”

Kell turned his head at a quizzical angle.  “In a sense.”

“Then it is true?” Grenness asked.

“You will have to be specific,” Kell replied.

“You are an angel of the Lord of Dawn?  We always knew you would come, and Corran said you would come to us here.  I am so sorry that we have not yet terraformed Hope’s Dawn, but I promise you that we have never lost faith in the great message . . .”

The man continued to speak, and Kell observed passively.  His lack of reaction bothered Grenness, and he continued to profess his devotion to his faith.

“Please, all I ask is that you tell me what the Lord of Dawn wishes for us to do.  If . . . if I may ask that.”

“You may ask what you please,” Kell said.  “But I am not what you are waiting for.”

Grenness felt the blood drain from his face.  “What?”

“You believe I am an angel – this is incorrect.  I am a Shoggoth.”

“But surely you are created by the Lord of Dawn!” the man asked.  “All life is his creation, and you are the truly unique life that He promised would come to us.”

Kell continued to regard him.

“I do not know a Lord of Dawn,” Kell replied.  “My creators are gone now, and I feel no sorrow for their passing.”

Grenness felt a heat rising in his face.  He’d been certain when he’d learned of the Shoggoths, and that one was here, that this was the moment he’d waited for.  He’d waited up nights since the first news of their existence had trickled out here, weeks ago.

Waiting for a sign.  Feeling terror for those moments of lapses in his faith.  Every mistake, he knew, would be viewed under a lens by the Lord of Dawn who could uncover all.

And this was not the messenger?

He wondered if it was a test.

“I am faithful,” he said.  “If you are truly not what I believe, then perhaps I am to be the shepherd, and your people the flock.  Do you think, Ambassador, that they would wish to join us?  We can show you how you fit into the Lord of Dawn’s universe, your place in it-“

“I can assure you that none of my kind would be interested,” the Ambassador replied.  “Your religion holds nothing for us, and we see far too much to find it of value.”

The Governor’s chest heaved and his face burned.

“Get out,” he said, barely restraining his anger.

Kell looked at him for a moment.  He had barely an expression, but there was a hint of contempt.

< Ep 2 Part 7 | Ep 2 Part 9 >

Governor Grenness’s brow furrowed.  “This is a very strange request you have made of me, Captain.”

Brooks smiled, hoping to set the man at ease.  “I mean no disrespect, of course.  We are not here to steal your colonists – only ask if this particular individual would be interested in joining us.”

“That is not the issue,” the man replied brusquely.  “What you describe is . . . well, we’ve heard of such mutations, but I always took them to be spacer’s tales.  Humans touched by something . . . unnatural?  It’s disturbing to comprehend.”  The man’s face went into taut lines.  “And you believe we are hiding such an individual here?”

“Hiding?” Brooks asked.  “That is not at all our angle.”

“Yet you’re accusing us of producing an individual with this mutation.”  The man’s face was still taut, anger roiling under the surface.  “We may have left the home system long ago, but we have long memories, Captain.  We recall the prejudice most had against us, against our beliefs.  Even then you decried us as insane.  Defective.”

Brooks kept himself calm.  “No one is making that claim here, governor.  Your system is not the only place to have people with this trait appear.  There is no shame in it – but for whatever reason, it only seems to appear in systems on the frontier with relatively small populations.”

The Governor did not look in the slightest appeased.  “Well, I assure you, Captain Brooks, we have no such individual like that here,” he said.

Brooks nodded.  “Very well.  It is unfortunate to learn this, but I would like, if you are still willing, to spend some time at your colony.  If there are misunderstandings between us, then this may be the best way to bridge those problems.”

The Governor’s face softened, ever so slightly.  Brooks took it as a good sign.

“Your visas are good for fourteen days.  We will not renege on that, I do not expect officers of the Sapient Union to cause trouble in my colony.  The only special rule you must adhere to is to respect our beliefs.”

“We will do so, Governor,” Brooks promised.

Leaving the Governor’s office, Brooks saw Dr. Logus waiting for him.  The man looked calm, almost serene.  Brooks gestured for him to follow and headed for the exit.

Dr. Logus did not ask him how the interview had gone, and Brooks did not offer anything; it was all too likely they would be overheard here, even if unintentionally.

As they neared the doors to the general colony, a man was waiting.  He wore a ceremonial collar over his standard uniform, and held up a hand for Brooks to stop.

The Captain warily wondered if this was some sort of inspection or check – to try and impress upon them the Governor’s power.

But the man had his own calm and serene smile that drew trust.

“May I speak with you a moment, Captain?” he asked.

Brooks gave him a polite nod, and the man continued.

“I hope that Governor Grenness did not give you the wrong idea about us, Captain.  He is an admirable man, but he is very protective of our colony.  Our believers have much concern about outside influence weakening or disrupting our expressions of faith.”

Brooks nodded.  “I can understand that.  I hope to make clear that we have no intention of causing harm to your colony, however.”

“Of course,” the man agreed.  “But intention and effect can be separate things.”

Brooks noted that; the fear of outside contact causing change just by its mere existence was an ancient tool of control.  Sometimes it was a valid fear, in cases of extreme power imbalance.

Which was something of the case here; the Sapient Union consisted of over a dozen species across thousands of systems.

“Let us walk together,” the man continued, opening the doors.

“Very well.”  The man led them down the steps outside.  Like much of the rest of the colony, they were made of compressed regolith.  The material may have been common, but it was used with more skill and artistry than elsewhere, giving it a regal appearance.

The administration building was in a style that was reminiscent of old terrestrial capitals; a large hollow had been carved into the moon, giving it an open feeling that the rest of the colony lacked.  A dome and tower in the center gave it a quiet dignity, and the door was flanked by more pillars of compressed regolith.

The steps led to a small but pleasant garden, and the men slowed their stroll to enjoy it.  Humanoid figures in throes of religious passion and fervor lined the area.

“Pardon, but may I ask your name?” Dr. Logus asked.  “You surely know the Captain, and I am Dr. Arn Logus.”

“Certainly – I am Reverend Yem Hallus.  I minister to our flock and help guide our people.”

The man offered his hand, and both Brooks and Logus took it.

“As I say, the Governor means no ill – but he is in a position that forces him to be cautious,” Hallus continued.  “However, that does not mean he is wholly unwilling to help you.  I understand that you seek an individual who has . . . an unusual burden to bear?”

Brooks felt his curiosity piqued.  Was the Reverend really working at the Governor’s behest, or was he simply trying to smooth over a potential problem on his own?

“You could phrase it that way,” Brooks replied.  “What can you tell me about such an individual?”

The man smiled, but it was sad.  “Only that their burden is a difficult one – and that they are not here on New Begonia.”

So it was not to be of any help, Brooks thought.  “That is unfortunate to hear – in both senses.  If they exist, we could potentially help them.”

“I believe you mean that,” the Reverend said.  “I am not hostile to your ideals, Captain.  I believe that your people are not truly lost, only . . . have yet to find your exact path.  That is why I will tell you that I have heard of such an individual who lives within the system.”

Brooks was not sure how to interpret that.  “Do they live isolated from the colony?”

It wasn’t unheard of for individuals to live alone in space – some people just wanted to be solitary.  But it was a harder and more dangerous life for them in space than it had even been for those who went into the wilderness alone back in Earth’s history.  The void had no mercy or room for error.

“You could say that,” the Reverend said.  “But it requires some explanation.  I am certain you are aware that our colony began under the guidance of our first Prophet – Ted Corren.  All of this is due to him, and the Grace of the Lord of Dawn.”  The man gestured to the garden and buildings beyond.  “One day we shall terraform Hope’s Dawn itself, and recreate the Earth as it was in the days of Paradise.”

Brooks noticed that Dr. Logus seemed fascinated.  He doubted it was with curiosity of their religion, but out of sheer interest in the Reverend’s psychology.

“Our arrival was difficult, however, Captain.  We had sent production machines ahead of us, but they encountered unexpected problems that delayed them.  Three hundred thousand of us first left Earth, but nearly two million arrived – a trip of four hundred years can have unpredictable changes in population.  But what had been built was only for half that number.  Times were hard here, at first.  Many considered it to be a test of our Lord, but not all felt that way.”

A pang of sorrow went through Brooks.  While technology could allow beings to settle worlds and moons that were incredibly hostile, the scale of them meant that if small problems were allowed to fester then they could grow exponentially.  It was a reason the Sapient Union strongly advised prospective colonists to be officially sanctioned; the resources of fully-developed systems were needed to help things go as smoothly as possible.

But this was an unchartered colony.  They had had the option of being chartered, but he knew that Ted Corren had refused to accept the help of the Sol government.

He did not give voice to that thought, however, and allowed the Reverend to continue.

“After Ted Corren passed, his son took his name as his surname – Vell Tede.  Vell was a wise leader, and in some ways so was his son.  But Ban Tede began to feel that leadership should not be due to wisdom, but heredity.  Though his father disagreed, Ban attempted to put his son into power against the general will, and a schism appeared in our colony.”

The Reverend shook his head sadly.  “We were fortunate to avert civil war.  Ban and his followers were stopped, but the split had still occurred, and Ban left with those who agreed with him.  They were . . . unhappy, to say the least.”

“And so they formed a new colony in the system?” Brooks asked.

“Yes.  On the largest moon of the first gas giant in this system they founded a new colony that they named Vitriol.”

Dr. Logus arched an eyebrow.  “It sounds as if they were quite upset.”

“Oh, they were.  But we are grateful that there was no outbreak of general violence.”

Brooks stopped walking, turning to face the Reverend.  The man mirrored him.  “I am sorry for these difficulties your colony has faced.  Do you believe that it is in Vitriol that this person we’re looking for can be found?”

“It is likely,” the Reverend said.  “There is a small dashgate that exists at the second Le Grange point around Hope’s Dawn.  Though relations remain somewhat strained, we do trade with Vitriol.  If you take that gate, you should have no problem finding them.  I will warn you, however, that they are less welcoming to outsiders than we are.”

Brooks nodded.  “Thank you, Reverend.  Your assistance is very much appreciated – I am in your debt.  If we can assist you or your colony, we would be glad to do what we can.”

The Reverend smiled, but this time it was thin, tight-lipped.  “There is something you can do for us, Captain.  You can leave quickly.”

< Ep 2 Part 6 | Ep 2 Part 8 >

“New Begonia control, this is the SUS Hurricane requesting landing permission.”

“Please transmit cargo and passenger manifest and inform the purpose of your visit.”

The former was transferred automatically, and Urle filled in the rest.  “We are officers of the Sapient Union vessel Craton and we come in peace.  We request a meeting with your governor.”

There was a long hesitation before an answer came.

“Transport Hurricane, landing coordinates and guidepost path has been uploaded.  Do not deviate from the assigned course.”

The system showed Urle the path they’d given.  It seemed entirely normal, but the landing platform was at the edge of the colony, not in the primary landing zone.

That was unexpected.  Perhaps because they were being viewed as dignitaries?  There were a lot of potentially bad reasons it could be, as well.

But there was no reason that the colonists here would be hostile to them.  He again ran through every bit of information he had on the place, its people, and their religion – he’d spent the trip doing his own research.  They had no violent issue with anyone, as far as he knew, and had left Earth in peace long before the system had even become as tolerant as it was now.  No traders had reported issues, either.

It was likely just out of respect.

“All personnel, prepare for landing,” he said over the comm.

The Hurricane was not a ship that could enter an atmosphere, and such an entry would have been a one-way trip for her.  But fortunately, the colony of New Begonia wasn’t on the world of Hope’s Dawn itself, but its moon.

The moon was a planetary-mass object, smaller than but comparable to Earth’s moon Luna.  It had no atmosphere, but its surface had a yellowish tinge due to high concentrations of sulfur in its crust.

It wasn’t enough to be pretty, Urle thought.  Just enough to make it look dingy.  Still, such satellites were rather rare, and his records indicated that the colonists had picked this world largely for having an Earth-like moon.

As he approached the landing pad, the sensors informed him that it was built of simple compressed regolith, as was most of the colony’s exterior.  The colony had been founded over two hundred years ago, and yet their industry didn’t seem to have built up as much as he expected.  Regolith constructions were fine, cheap, and easy early options. By this time, though, most colonies had full industrial production.

Nevertheless, the ship settled on the landing pad smoothly.  Unhooking his restraints, Urle got up and went into the main hall.  It felt good to have some sense of gravity again, even if this moon had only a small fraction that of Earth’s.  At least the floor was the floor.

As he entered the main hall, Hannah and Persis came out of their rooms, giggling and hopping in the low gravity.

“Be careful,” he said quickly.  “Don’t hit your-“

Persis hit her head, letting out a shriek and nearly breaking down into tears.

Kell’s door opened and he stepped out, pausing to spare a glance to her.  As Urle comforted her, the Ambassador apparently decided he had no further interest, and headed towards the airlock.

“Next time be more careful, all right?” Urle said to his youngest daughter.

Persis nodded, sniffing, but he knew he’d have to keep an eye on them anyway.

As the Begonian docking clamp clanked into place on their hull, Urle changed into his full uniform.  Upon returning, he saw that Brooks was already there, in his own.

The rest of the staff and crew also turned out in their full uniform – or in the case of their only civilian, Pirra’s husband Alexander, in his best suit.

“We’d like to make a good impression,” Brooks noted.  “Not that I expect any less from any of you.  The Begonians are friendly, but they left for religious reasons – and so we should respect their beliefs even if we do not hold them.”

On hearing the disembarking signal, Brooks opened the seal.  While the long docking tube seemed in good shape, Urle’s sensors noted signs of age and wear from longer use than recommended.  Nevertheless, he found nothing that overly-worried him.

Following the Captain, the other end of the hatch opened obligingly, and they met their first of the New Begonia colonists.

Several honor guards and officials awaited them.  They did not look any different from baseline humans, and appeared friendly enough.

“Welcome to New Begonia,” their leader said.  His voice had flat intonation that reminded Urle of religious chanting.  “We bid you welcome in the name of our Lord.”

“On behalf of my crew, I thank you for the welcome,” Brooks replied.  “We come in peace and friendliness.  Are you in command here?”

“Yes. I am Governor Hef Grenness, Blessed Plenipotentiary of the Lord of Dawn.”

Urle was proud that neither of his daughters even cracked a smile at the man’s pretentious title.

Brooks, of course, accepted it without any change.  “It is an honor to meet you, Governor.  I am Captain-Mayor Ian Brooks.  May I introduce my staff . . .”

As introductions and pleasantries were made, Urle kept an eye on the governor’s face and body language.  The man seemed political enough to offer the usual platitudes, though Urle noted a definite spike of stress in his readings when he was introduced to the non-human members of the staff.  There had been a general sense of unease among both him and his party all along, but they had hidden it until meeting Pirra and Cenz, the only obvious aliens among them.

Despite that, the Governor’s expression only strained in the slightest.

“. . . and Ambassador Kell, of the Shoggoth people,” Brooks said.  Explaining more than that seemed out of place at the moment.

The governor’s eyes glinted.  “Interesting – your Captain sent us information about you, but we had already heard of your kind’s discovery even here, Ambassador.  I will be pleased to become better acquainted with you.”

Urle’s sensors noted his stress levels rise as he met Kell; the effect of meeting the strange being was telling on him.  But the Governor was struggling hard to hide that; if anything, there seemed a genuine excitement to him.

Perhaps, like with his daughters, the man’s curiosity was overcoming that innate reaction?

“You are surely wondering why we’d like to speak with you,” Brooks said.

“Of course – you are welcome here.  We have granted you all 14-day visas for your visit.  Should you need longer, the matter can be arranged.”  His eyes swept over Brooks’s group, but lingered on Cenz and Pirra.  “With some small discussions.  But let us retire to my office to discuss the more important matters.  In the meantime, I invite the rest of your staff and crew to wander freely in New Begonia.  Learn of us and our ways – we offer a peace and purpose that much of the rest of the universe is lacking.”

His smile seemed genuine, and Urle felt almost fascinated seeing a man with such a belief in his ideals when they were so . . . unrelated to the physical world they knew.

Such religious devotion was not unheard of in the Sapient Union, but it was rare.  Religion itself was not widely held, and those that did typically viewed it as a private matter.

“Let’s go,” he said to his girls.  Their beaming smiles full of excitement at getting to see a new and interesting place.  Urle smiled, too, feeling for a moment that same sense of wonder and devotion that the Governor had displayed only moments before. He felt blessed that he was able to hold his devotions, his purpose, in his arms, and that they were real and present, instead of in a sacred text.

< Ep 2 Part 4 | Ep 2 Part 6 >

“Why did you want to come on this trip, Pirra?” Alexander asked her.

She looked up absently from the pad she’d been reading in her sleeping bag.

“Hm?” she asked.

It was probably work-related, he thought, at what she’d been reading.  She was always so into her career.

Repeating his question, Alexander studied his wife.

As with all Dessei, her eyes were larger than a human’s, and seemed all the more expressive for it.  Despite having a head nearly the same size as a human, her body was more gracile.  It gave her a strange, almost stick-figure look, but lacking the sickly appearance an overly-thin human had.  A feature inherited from her bird-like ancestors.

It was hard to imagine that she threw herself into danger without a second thought.  She looked delicate, but evolution had given her species bones and muscles that were stronger than they looked, at least comparable with a human.

“It seemed a chance to get off the ship, to have that vacation you wanted,” she chirped in answer.

Even though the translators could seamlessly cancel most sounds of a being’s language and translate it, he had learned her language years before.  At least the parts within the human audio range; some Dessei sounds were too high in pitch for his ears to even register.  Just through sheer experience he could sometimes pick up nuances in her words that even the translators could miss.

And right now he could tell that she was making an excuse.

“I wanted to go to that resort on Axas,” he said.  “Just a day there and back – we’d have two days of just relaxation and fun.  Do you know how great the museums are there?”

She offered her attempt at a human smile.  It wasn’t actually her mouth, he knew.  What adorned her face was more akin to a large nostril (though thankfully not snotty like a human’s).  She sang through it, whistled her lovely language, and below that, under her chin was the rather-terrifying mouth that had evolved to swallow whole the fish-like prey her ancestors subsisted on.

Smiling didn’t come naturally to them, with their . . . singer, as they called it.  But she tried, because he’d told her once he loved it when she did that for him.

“I . . . didn’t really want to go to the resort,” she admitted.

“Why?” he asked.  He didn’t want to be upset, but they hadn’t gone on a proper vacation since their honeymoon four years earlier.

“I don’t know,” she said.  Her tone sounding more like admitting to a mistake than evading the question.  “Maybe a resort was just too sedate after what I’ve been through.  I like museums – I really do – but I didn’t want to go to one now.”

Alexander smiled wryly.  “So going to some weird frontier colony is better?”

She considered.  “Yeah.  It does seem better.  It’ll still be interesting, though, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure it will,” he said, smiling at her.  “And at least we’ll be together.”

She leaned out of her sleeping bag to reach for him.  Her fingers were as white as paper, and appeared so much more delicate than his own.  As their strength closed on his hand, he felt a happy warmth in his chest.

She said nothing, but smiled again for him and held his hand.

< Ep 2 Part 3 | Ep 2 Part 5 >

“What do we know about the colony?” Zach asked.

“Not a lot.  They set out to found a religious colony based on the words of a man they considered to be a prophet – Ted Corren.  He also led the initial expedition . . . the colony is named New Begonia, on the large moon of a world they’ve named Hope’s Dawn.”

“There’s not a lot of religious sentiment left in human space, so I guess I can understand them wanting to be somewhere else.  What do we know about their beliefs?  Anything concerning?”

Brooks’s eyes went over some more text.  “They’re strict on their members regarding things like dancing and alcohol, but have no precepts that are particularly egregious.  It’s one of the Late Revival Monotheistic religions, sharing many traits with the Abrahamic faiths, but being related only in an inherited cultural sense.”

Urle took that in before asking his next question.  “It’s unchartered, but it trades with us, right?  And it’s pretty civil, as I recall.”

“Yes, despite being so far on the frontier, it’s very tame – at least as far as we can tell.  I suppose they could have a lot to hide, but I just don’t know.”  Brooks went silent, staring at his pad.

Something about that look bothered Urle.  He’d known his current Captain for ten years now – ever since Brooks had been Executive Commander on the cruiser Kilimanjaro and Urle had been under him as Chief of Engineering.  They’d developed a good rapport then, and Urle liked to think he knew more about how Brooks’s mind worked than most.

“Captain, it’s your prerogative, but perhaps we don’t go looking for trouble here,” Urle said.

Brooks laughed.  “I don’t look for trouble,” he said, lacking conviction.

“Do you think they’ll have a problem with us taking this CR?” Urle asked.

“I doubt it.  We should be honest and forthright about our goals, but we’ll want them to be sure that we’re not just trying to poach their whole population, either,” Brooks replied.  “This is a member of their colony, and most of these fringe societies don’t like losing people.  I’m authorized to give some reasonable concessions if that will help.”

“We don’t even know that the CR will want to come with us,” Urle noted.  “They might be happy there.”

Brooks nodded.  “It’s possible.  From what I know about people with these abilities, however, they tend to be somewhat outcast.  They say there’s something about their presence that . . . makes others uncomfortable.”

Urle chewed on that thought.  “Reminds me of someone else we have along with us,” he noted.

Brooks didn’t miss the hint.  “My thoughts exactly.  I admit, I’m curious about Kell meeting them.  I don’t want the Ambassador along for our first meeting – no reason to potentially scare them off.”

Urle glanced towards the door, feeling a sudden concern that Kell might be there, somehow having slipped in silently.  But the room was empty other than the two of them.

“How will we keep the Ambassador busy?  No offense, but he seems to like butting himself into places we don’t want him.”

“We shouldn’t look at it that way,” Brooks said.  “He’s a very different species.”

“Captain, I know he’s an ambassador and I should respect that, but he seems to go out of his way to be difficult.”

“He does,” Brooks said.  “He’s testing us, I think.  He wants to understand our limits.  We won’t let him walk all over us, but we’re going to pick our hill to die on with care.  But to answer your question, Cenz has volunteered to keep Kell company.  He’s quite curious about him, anyway.”

“It seemed that way,” Urle said.  “I’ve rarely seen his polyps buzzing with so much EM energy.”

“He is the Chief Science Officer,” Brooks replied with a shrug.  “Curiosity is a big part of that, and the Shoggoths aren’t sharing much with us.  Cenz sees it as an opportunity.”

“I don’t think he even had much of a reaction to Kell, did he?”

“No,” Brooks agreed.  “And it’s not just you thinking that – while non-human species do seem to usually have a reaction to Shoggoths, it’s been notably worse for humans.”

Urle looked troubled by that.  It was hard for most to read him, what with so much of his face covered.  But Brooks had known him long enough to catch the tightening of lines on his face.

“Has . . . there been anyone who hasn’t had a reaction to them?  Upon first meeting,” Urle asked.

“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Brooks replied, frowning.  “I’d be curious to find out.”

Urle said no more on the topic, but looked troubled.

“Something wrong?” Brooks asked.

“No,” Urle answered.  “You know, normally, I’d not think it wise to have a being who hadn’t met aliens before go off with them alone, but . . .”

Brooks finished the train of thought.  “But he’s already so alien from us.”

“And since Corals are aquatic, they at least have that in common,” Urle added.  “We did send the diplomatic packet explaining about them to New Begonia, right?”

“Yes,” Brooks replied, smiling easily.  “We’ve done all we can to prepare them, and now we just have to hope it doesn’t cause an issue.  I wish Kell hadn’t insisted on coming, but these kinds of meetings are going to have to happen.”

“I just hope my girls don’t go annoying Kell,” Urle said.

“I heard they encountered him.  You said they didn’t seem that bothered?”

“Oh, they were bothered,” Urle replied.  “But it just made them itch with curiosity.  They want to meet every alien species.  And if it’s cute, bring it home.”

“I’ll make clear there’s a prohibition against bringing any lifeforms off any world in the Begonia system,” Brooks said, with some amusement.

“I appreciate that, Captain.  It was very hard getting them off Clennus without a Jumping Flower.  Oh, and before I forget, upload me the roster, would you?  I didn’t have a chance to review the personnel list.  Just want to know who else is with us.”

Brooks sent him the list, and he scanned over it.  Only twenty, and while his memory systems knew the entire ship’s roster, he only knew a few personally.  Brooks, Cenz, Kell, and Pirra – still off-duty for two more days, just in time to be available when they got to Begonia.  Her husband Alexander had come as well.  Urle had only met him in passing, but he knew the man was a close friend to Iago Caraval, the Response field commander.

A final name caught his attention: Dr. Arn Logus.

It actually made sense; it would be good for him to interview the CR, he could certainly offer some insight into their personality.

Brooks must have been waiting for his reaction to that.

“I didn’t ask him to come,” Brooks noted.  “But due to the nature of our mission, he had every right to.”

Urle didn’t reply, but he caught the change in Brooks’s tone as he spoke again.

“Why do you think he requested the transfer onto the Craton?” the Captain asked him.

“Dr. Logus?” Urle asked, even though he knew.

“Yes.”

Urle considered how to answer that.  “To keep an eye on you, Captain,” he finally said.

< Ep 2 Part 2 | Ep 2 Part 4 >

“Transport Hurricane, this is Coordination Platform OS-1 – control of your craft will be returned in ten seconds.”

“Understood, OS-1,” Urle replied.  His hands were already on the controls.

Within a system, near inhabited stations, little was left to chance.  Coordination platforms remotely piloted each ship, keeping them in lanes and moving in such a way as to minimize – as much as possible – the chance of catastrophe.  There was just too much danger letting even the most experienced human pilots control a ship.

Even once he regained control, very little human input was needed.  But among the small group on the transport, he was by far the most qualified – the augments in his hands allowed him to interface directly with the ship’s computer, rather than having to rely on things as crude as control sticks.

The ship shuddered as the Coordination Platform relinquished control, and Urle directed the ship to head towards the aperture.

“What is this Begonia System like?” Kell asked.

Urle turned as much as he could to look back.  “You volunteered to come and yet you don’t even know anything about our destination?” he asked.

“The details were unimportant,” Kell replied.  “The location is not on an unmoving ship, which makes it preferable.”

Urle did not want to say it, but he was annoyed that the Ambassador had simply inserted himself onto the bridge.  He had not asked, but simply had come in.  Just like how he had invited himself on the excursion.

The rest of those along for the ride had the good sense not to be cluttering the small bridge.  It was cramped with four, and Kell himself, despite his form being average in size, still felt like he took up more than that.

And weirdest of all, the Shoggoth didn’t even strap down like a normal person.  The Hurricane was far too small to create its own gravity, and if you wanted to stay in your seat you had to use straps.

But not Kell.  He just sat on his seat and stayed there.

“Well, we’re just moving to the zerogate and going through.  Not much to see from here,” Urle said, hoping Kell would take the hint.

The Shoggoth did not seem to take anything, staring at the monitors.  “The ships I have been on so far have not needed to use these gates.  Why does this one?”

“Only big ships can do that.  This is a small transport that can only comfortably carry fifty.  The generators on it aren’t nearly powerful enough to open a gate, and even if they were, there are a lot of neophysics that make a larger zerodrive work far better-“

The Ambassador tapped one of the consoles.  “What do the colors indicate?”

“Stop touching that!  Everything is fine,” Urle snapped, resisting the urge to physically push Kell’s hand away.  He was being reminded all too much of a child at this point.

“Ambassador, please return to your quarters.  We’ll be making the jump in two minutes and it is important you occupy your quarters at that time.”

Kell’s look made it clear; he perceived the meaning behind Urle’s words.  But evidently, he still accepted the request.  Standing, the being floated off the bridge – at least now having the decency to act like he was in zero-g – and Urle breathed a sigh of relief.

Taking the ship to the zerogate, he signalled to the passengers to prepare.

The gate ahead of them was massive, its edges already beyond his view from the cockpit screens.  The optimal width for them had been determined to be 3.2 kilometers, for reasons even he wasn’t certain of.  Neophysics was more counterintuitive than classical or even quantum.

Experience had taught him the subtle differences between a ship jumping under its own power and using a gate, however.  The gates offered a rougher ride, and he strapped himself in with the heavier safety straps.  Hopefully even Kell would, or the being might find himself falling flat on his face.

Throttling the ship forward, the external cameras all dimmed just before he crossed the threshold.  The sensation of falling, the gravitational jolt as they entered zerospace was rougher when using a gate, and he lurched forward in his seat.

As the sensors confirmed their successful entry, he flipped on the internal comm.

“We have entered zerospace.  Next stop is Zerogate Relay 96 around Wagner 731, in 37 hours.  All movement restrictions are lifted until then.  Mind your heads.”

Unbuckling the safety straps, he sat for a moment.  His connection to the ship’s internal systems showed him that Persis and Hannah were both playing Callagh’s Tower in their sleeping bags.  They averaged playing it for 53 minutes at a sitting, and had only been playing for a few at this point, so they were likely to continue being distracted for some time.  He didn’t need to check on or bother them, as their vitals all showed perfectly normal for girls their ages.

The idea of a nap was entering into his mind when the door to the cockpit opened, and Brooks drifted in.

“Captain,” he said, sitting up straighter.

“We’re off-duty until we get to Begonia,” Brooks said, smiling lightly.  “So it’s just ‘Ian’, Zach.”

At ease, Zach resumed his slumping.  “I won’t argue it.”

Brooks held a tablet, scanning over data as he absently pulled himself into the seat Kell had recently vacated.  A look of surprise went over his face as he sat.

“The chair is cold,” he said.

“Kell was just sitting there.”

Considering that a moment, Brooks shrugged it off and strapped down.

“We have very little information on this supposed Cerebral Reader,” he said.  “Not even a name.  Just that there is a report of such an individual in this colony.”

< Ep 2 Part 1 | Ep 2 Part 3 >