“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.
Other Terrestrial 