Other-Terrestrial
Episode 3
“Trauma”
by Nolan Conrey
Ship’s Log: Captain-Mayor Ian Brooks
The Craton is en route to a special deep-space medical station known as MS-29 – nicknamed The Chain.
Despite our medical technology rendering nearly all of the ancient ills of humanity and other species a thing of the past, there are still conditions and diseases that we struggle with. In most such facilities, treatments can be expected to be completed and the patient discharged in days, at most.
But MS-29 is a permanent residence for its patients. Those with conditions so serious that there is no cure, that we can only treat in palliative ways, these cases are brought to MS-29.
To say it has something of a grim reputation is an understatement. Though it is always the goal to be able to release any ill person back into society in full health, very few of those admitted to MS-29 ever achieve those sorts of results. It is a place for people who will fight to their last breath, and can be saved by nothing short of a miracle.
Even for those that work on the station, it is nearly a life-sentence that they themselves have chosen. Few envy the staff their task, yet all respect their sacrifice.
This station is the only one large enough to take in the surviving clones from New Vitriol. They have the capacity and the skill to ensure these people can live the best possible lives that their cruel creation will allow. One day, I hope, some may be able to leave.
On the Craton itself, the mood is tense. Besides our destination and the many thousands of clones, we have taken on nearly 700 refugees from New Vitriol. Many others wished to leave, but for health reasons had to be refused – many of the people of the colony have never walked in gravity, and combined with their generally poor health, Dr. Y concluded that joining us could put them in medical danger. They will still receive medical care within the colony from SU emergency services, but they cannot escape the colony that many have already begun to call by a new moniker – Hellrock.
While there have been incidents with these evacuated colonists, for the most part they are in awe and shock from their new circumstances. Each has their own quarters, and the presence of varied food and entertainment options, along with a comfortable, safe bed to call their own has done wonders.
Still, there have been scuffles and arguments over our different cultural values – and the occasional cat-call or speciesist comment, which has resulted in several detainments.
But I am pleased that 500 of the New Vitriol residents have worked to meet the criteria for provisional acceptance as citizens of the Sapient Union. Today, I will have the honor of inducting them.
It is a proud day, for myself and for them.
Captain Brooks stepped up.
Before him, there was a sea of faces. Almost five hundred people watching him.
There was fear in some of those eyes; hope in others. They regarded him as if he had the power of life and death, and they were not all certain which way he would choose.
The smile came easily to his face, the one that calmed nerves and soothed anger. It was peaceful, and it extended into his soul.
Today was a good day.
“Fifty years ago, mankind learned that they were not alone in the universe – that they were not the only beings that looked up to the stars and wondered what was up there. We’ve encountered new species, with their own ideals, goals, and dreams. And we came to each other in peace.
“Our cooperation has born fruit. First, with the Bicet, then the Qlernings, Dessei, Sepht, Corals and others . . . we are now a Union of Sapient beings. Birthed by different worlds, bearing little in common, save for all being willing to take a risk to work together. Tens of thousands of inhabited star systems, spanning almost 300 light years in breadth.”
He waved a hand to encompass all of the people below. The exiles of New Vitriol.
“Now, all of you have taken your own great leap. You have left the system of your birth – and in so doing have become part of a greater universe. You, too, have come in peace, in hope of making a better future.
“You’ve worked and studied, in some cases even learning to walk in a gravity you’ve never known. And now you are ready to become full citizens of the Sapient Union.”
There was a smattering of cheers and applause, but the people of New Vitriol did not seem, even under the best of circumstances, to be the celebratory type. But the looks of uncertainty had all-but disappeared. Instead, they were largely dominated by hope.
“As a citizen, you will be entitled to the essentials of life; food, water, shelter, the support of a community. These are your rights, and should someone try to deny them to you, you will have the support of every other member of our Union in getting what a living being inherently deserves.
“You will also be guaranteed the right to find a career that makes you happy. No effort will be spared in aiding you to find your place among us, and you will have the freedom to say ‘no’ at any time. We all contribute, but we are a community. The fruits of our collective labor belongs to us all.”
Spreading both arms, Brooks encompassed the entire area. “Look around you. Everything you see, every piece of furniture, every machine – these belong to all of you now. They belong to all of us.”
He smiled. “You could even say that the Craton itself equally belongs to you as it does to me and her crew.”
He hadn’t expected any chuckles, but he got a whoop from someone and some clapping.
“Let’s go to Axas!” one man yelled, and the laughter came.
Brooks chuckled too, and continued on.
“I suppose that a long-winded speech is not something any of us really want,” he added. “So let me just finish; we welcome you, sons and daughters of New Vitriol. You are now sons and daughters of the Sapient Union, and you are no longer alone.”
Other Terrestrial 
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