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Other-Terrestrial
Episode 4
“Home”
by Nolan Conrey
Captain Brooks’s Log:
We return to the Sol system, and home.
After the events on Medical Station 29, my actions – or apparently lack thereof – under the orders of Director Freeman of the Research Bureau have led to an investigation being called.
I do not know what the outcome of such an inquiry will be, but I have full confidence that my actions will be judged fairly. The lingering question is why this is being called at all.
I have absolved all of my officers of any guilt, and I believe they are not targets in this witch-hunt.
In light of that, it would not do to let this issue that stands to affect only myself to sour the mood of our return to the home system, which is considered a fantastic day at any other time. For some, it has an almost spiritual meaning to once again be under the light of our own sun.
The Craton will soon enter the outer edges of the system. We will be stopping first at the fringe, 40 AU from the Sun. Ships with drives like ours are not allowed to enter into inhabited systems, so from there, we will all have to take shuttles through dashgates further in.
It will be nice to go see home again.
“Preparing to surface in realspace.”
The ship seemed to lurch as they came back into reality. In moments, the screens on the bridge came back online, showing around them not just a familiar universe, but a place that was known to nearly every member of the crew.
The Sol system.
The home system, at least for humanity – and Shoggoths. For most of their history the only star they knew intimately.
“Welcome home,” Brooks said aloud.
Someone whooped and clapped, and Brooks’s face split into a grin.
Most humans nowadays were not born under Sol’s light, but nonetheless it was a special moment for them all to return.
Looking over, Brooks saw Apollonia staring with a fascination at the image of the sun.
“Where’s Earth?” she asked.
Urle pointed, and a circle appeared on the screen.
Apollonia squinted. “I can’t see it.”
“The sun hides it at this distance,” Urle explained. “If we hide the corona, well-“
The glow around the sun dimmed, and there was now a single speck encircled.
“It’s not even blue from here,” she commented.
“Plucharon Control has given us an approach vector,” Ji-Min Bin said. “We are on course, and will begin port-entry procedures in twenty-five minutes.”
The ship was coming around, Apollonia could see from the shifting view of stars. She could feel just the slightest hint of the rotation.
‘Plucharon’ came into view, and her eyes widened.
She’d heard of Pluto and Charon; twin dwarf planets orbiting each other at the edge of the system. They’d become kind of a symbol of entry into the Sol system, the first port of call of any ship that headed towards the homeworld.
And she’d even heard that the two worlds were tidally-locked, perpetually facing each other and at the same distance. That they’d even been connected by a bridge almost 20,000 kilometers long. Since their connection, they’d gained the nickname of ‘Plucharon’.
But her imagination had never done it justice.
The ‘bridge’ was a thin line between the two bodies, yet it glowed with lights. The distance between the two was almost eight times the diameter of Pluto itself.
“How thick is the bridge?” she asked.
“At the base, it’s about 150 kilometers across,” Urle said. “It thins as it goes, of course, though at the center you have the central station. And around it there are a lot of rotating rings and ships and attendant stations. Thickens out its look quite a bit.”
“Are those ships?” she asked, pointing at a cluster of lights.
“Those are guidance beacons, they light up as we near them,” Urle explained, ever-happy to be the font of knowledge. “Besides the lights, they send out a lot of telemetry data – just helps make sure every ship knows where everyone else is.”
“Are there are a lot of other ships?” Apollonia asked, stepping closer to his chair. She could have sat, but she was a bit too excited.
“Oh, yes. A cursory check says . . . about seven hundred others on approach vectors, and over ten times that already docked or just nearby.” He beckoned her to lean over and see his screen, where hundreds of circles appeared. Each circle wasn’t just one ship, but encompassed anywhere from ten to several hundred.
“Dark,” Apollonia breathed. “That’s a hell of a lot of ships. Isn’t there any danger of them crashing into each other?”
“Space is big,” Urle replied simply. “This isn’t even a significant portion of the Sol fleet. The bulk of them will be at the naval base around Neptune. Each planet has its own attendant fleet, at least until the frost line.”
At her look of confusion, he clarified. “As far in as Jupiter.”
“Earth doesn’t have ships?”
“It does, but mostly smaller ones. There’s a lot of habitation cylinders there, satellites too, it’s a pretty busy area of space, so it’s best to keep things from getting too hectic.”
She frowned. “But what if someone attacked it?”
He tilted his head, clearly finding the question odd. “There are a whole lot of automated defense satellites and stations – they’d intercept someone foolish enough to try to jump straight to Earth. They can even neutralize some pretty hefty asteroids.”
“I will be in my study,” Brooks said suddenly, rising from his chair.
Apollonia watched him. His expression was severe, and she felt a strange intensity from him, quite different from the general happy mood. But she didn’t say anything.
Urle rose a moment later. “Executive Officer leaving the bridge,” he announced.
Jaya also rose, and a chubby blonde woman whose name Apollonia did not even remember rose as well. Maybe it was Zann.
Fumbling with her pad, she saw that the woman’s name was Zeela Cann, Chief of Administration.
“Show me where Dr. Y is,” she asked, hoping it could do that.
It did; his location appeared, in his office. But then it blinked out and suddenly appeared again in Brooks’s study. He must have done his body-switching thing again, deactivating one and turning on another.
For a moment, it struck her as crazy that she could track the officers on the ship. The amount of information about everyone that was just public was staggering. She wondered if stalking was ever a problem.
A message popped up. It was from Dr. Y.
“Is there a reason you are tracking my whereabouts? I do not mind, but I do think you should know, Apollonia, that people can see if you are doing that.”
She closed the app in a burst of panic.
They knew?
Well. Now it made more sense why they felt safe being tracked . . .
The fact that they were all getting together seemed odd. Normally Brooks would openly call for a meeting, rather than simply leaving.
It struck her that something was going on. She hadn’t been told, which . . . actually made sense, but she didn’t like it.
She wasn’t going to do anything stupid to find out what, but her curiosity was itching. If it concerned her, they’d probably tell her, right?
Other Terrestrial 
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