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---

“That did not go how I expected,” Brooks said to Vandoss as they walked down the hallway.

Vandoss grunted.  “Agreed.  Freeman seemed much more interested in sticking it to the Shogs than you.”

Brooks frowned.  “Can I speak to Apollonia?  I want to check on her.”

“She’s got support personnel with her, including a psychiatrist if she needs it,” the man said.  “Though she is now dismissed from the case, and I doubt they’d recall her again.  I’ll see if I can get it cleared, owing to her unusual circumstances.”

Brooks did not want to wait – given how Apollonia had reacted to Dr. Logus, how might she react to one of the shrinks here?  But now was not a time he could flaunt the rules.

“One moment,” Vandoss said, as a message came in.  He gave Brooks a heavy frown.  “I need to take this, Ian.  I’ll be back shortly.”

The man walked away, and only then did Brooks realize that his sister was down the hall, watching him.

“Maria,” he said warmly, opening his arms.

She approached.  Worry creased her face, and she did not move in to hug him.  “How are you?” she asked.  “How is it going?  I was not able to get here earlier, so I haven’t been in to see.”

He turned his offered hug into a shrug.  “In all honesty?  Very strangely.  Nothing here is as it seems.  The Chairman and most of the Tribunal seem to be approaching this honestly, but . . .”  He trailed off.

“Some people aren’t?” she suggested.

“Right.”  He didn’t want to cast suspicion until he knew more, but Advisor Nuuan seemed to have been the instigator of much of the line of questioning about Kell, and everything, well, strange in general.  It was quite possible that it was nothing suspicious at all.  But he had also somewhat opened the door and helped goad Apollonia into her outburst – an outburst whose ramifications he still did not know.

While the Treaty of Tor was public knowledge, what negotiations, arguments, and concessions had been made in private to the Shoggoths were things he was not privy to.

The reason for Freeman’s interest in the Shoggoths was obvious; but his play was not.  Putting them on the defensive did not seem to be aiding his goal of recruiting their help.  Or sticking these charges.

“Maria,” he said.  “What do you know about the Treaty of Tor?”

Surprise went over her face, but she turned pensive quickly.  “Not any more than most.  The treaty is not particularly complicated, the Shoggoths were deemed by the Sapient Union’s Supreme Council to have been entitled to half of the Earth, but not beyond.  It would have been hell to sort out where and what, but they ceded much of that land to allow normal human activities – aside from deep explorations of the Earth and reserved parts of Antarctica as their homeland.  Which I’m very grateful for, because I would have had to be involved in that nightmare otherwise.”

“I know all that.  But do you know anything about the negotiations?  What do they have to do with Freeman, do you think?  I have heard he is not fond of them . . .”

“No, I should think not,” she said with a snorted laugh.  “Not after how he was publicly snubbed by their leadership.  They agreed to meet with every other head of department except for him.  And he was just about the only one excited to meet them.”

“So they avoid him?”

“In an official capacity, it seems that way.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

“No.  Ian, why are you asking about this?” concern creased her brow again.  “Surely this isn’t important during this hearing.  You should be most concerned about yourself right now.”

“It might be,” Brooks said.  “There are games being played.  Do you know anything about Advisor Nuuan, by any chance?”

“Nothing,” she said.  “Other than that he’s a Tribunal member.”

Brooks fell quiet, contemplating.  Whatever Freeman wanted with the Shoggoths was not something he could understand with his current knowledge – but Maria was right that he should be concerned with his own outcome.  Until he understood more about this, at least.

“Thanks for your help and support,” he told her.  “Can you stay?  I’d like to talk to you again after this is over.”

She hesitated, but nodded.  “I have some time, I can stay.”

“Thank you,” he said again.  “I need to check on some other things before the recess is over.”

With a nod, she left, and Brooks went into his private messages.  There was a response from Admiral Luoyyani.

“I know very little about Representative Nuuan,” he said.  “I have heard of him being appointed to your tribunal, but I am not sure who selected him right now.  I can look into it, though – from what I do hear, he is a worm, and I don’t like the stink of this whole thing.  It’s a sky-falling shame what they’re accusing you of – I would never believe you’d fail in your duties like that.  Should the Earth command find you guilty, I personally guarantee you that there will be a posting worthy of you in the Dessei Republic Fleet – commanding a ship like you should, not put behind a desk!”

Smiling, Brooks ended the message, and saw that the Admiral was hurrying back towards him.

“Ian,” Vandoss said.  The urgency in his voice raised the alarm bells in Brooks’s head.

“I’ve been notified that there’s rumblings of a transfer from your ship,” he said.  “A non recusatio.”

Brooks tensed.  “Who and where?”

A non recusatio transfer was rare.  Most within the Sapient Union were simply an option that people chose to take.  Moving around, seeing more of the universe, was highly valued by a people who had every need met, even if that posting was less pleasant than their current one.

But a non recusatio could not be refused.  It was a hard order, of the sort often only given to someone who had committed a crime and were being moved into a penal unit, or when a post simply had to be filled immediately.

Vandoss glanced around.  “Freeman is making a move to get Apollonia Nor into his fold.”

Brooks sucked in a breath, shocked.  “But she’s not even an officer yet.”

“She’s technically a ward of the Voidfleet for six months after her citizenship, to help her acclimate.  That is, if she doesn’t become an officer first.  But he’s pulling some strings, trying to get that wardship transferred to his division on account of her abilities.”

It didn’t help that she’d just spoken of things far stranger than they had ever expected of any Cerebral Reader.

“She can refuse that . . .”

“It’s why he’s angling for non recusatio.  It’s not simply meant to be for her own good, but vital to Union security.”

“He seems to take the concept of ‘security’ quite liberally,” Brooks said acidly.

Vandoss just grunted.  “I have friends of my own, Brooks.  But get that woman out of here and back onto a fleet ship – I’ll have her papers to you in ten minutes.  Get her on a shuttle and into my flagship in the 17th, and I’ll make sure she gets from there to the Craton as fast as possible.”

Brooks nodded, understanding.  A transfer could potentially be stopped or stalled, but ultimately it mattered where Apple actually was.  If Freeman convinced or tricked her to agree to go, it’d be a much tougher battle.

And he didn’t put it past the man to try.

---

< Ep 5 Part 18 | Ep 5 Part 20 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

She felt tears suddenly well up in her eyes, and looked down.

“Take a moment, Ms. Nor.  When you can, we can continue,” Kernos said soothingly.  “But may I ask why you’re upset?”

She could not get herself to admit it.  But now that she had put into words just what that thing was, she felt a profound sense of horror.

It had been a baby.  A baby being that wasn’t human, but that was alive, that wanted to exist.  It had wanted so badly to exist, and all she had done for it, rather than try to solve the problem, was to convince it to go back.  At the time, it had seemed so reasonable.  ‘Just don’t do that’.  But what choice did it have?

It was not a human baby, but something intelligent, something beyond her understanding, and it had understood its own fate.  Yet that didn’t mean it had any power over it.

In a horrible moment of clarity, she knew, on some level, that it had not even asked to be put into that situation.  Or maybe it was just her own guilt, consuming her . . .

She took some deep breaths, struggling to calm herself.  After a few moments, she raised her head, looking back over the room.  Her eyes might be moist and red, but she had hardened herself as best she could.

“I’m okay now,” she said, avoiding the question.

Admiral Vandoss signaled.  “May I ask the young lady a question?”

Kernos ascented, and Vandoss stood.  “Ms. Nor, there is no need for you to be tortured over everything that occurred.  I only need to ask you one question; did Captain Brooks send you to speak to Michal- to the thing that was in Michal Denso’s body?”

“No,” she said.

“Did he ever task you with any action involving Michal Denso?  In solving that issue?”

“No,” she repeated.

“I am finished,” he said, sitting.

Nuuan spoke again.  “Ms. Nor – if not Captain Brooks, what made you go back onto MS-29 after your initial hysteria upon going onto the station?”

She swallowed.  “Ambassador Kell and I spoke.  It . . . we both felt something was wrong.  I couldn’t understand it, but when we spoke, it helped me understand just what was going on.”

That brought some murmurs of surprise.

“Are you saying,” Nuuan said slowly.  “That Ambassador Kell of the Shoggoths told you to go kill Michal Denso?”

“It told me that I had to deal with it . . . or it would,” she said.  “And . . . and that’s what happened.  I didn’t kill Michal Denso or achieve . . . anything, really.”

Cressin threw up her hands.  “We come to this every time.  These claims that some sort of supernatural force killed this man.  But none of this is logical, none of it can be proven.  Ambassador Kell was not even on MS-29 when Denso died-“

“Nevertheless,” Director Freeman said softly.  “The Ambassador told me the same thing, to my face.”

The Tribunal fell silent, watching the man.

“Permission to speak to the witness?”

Kernos nodded, and Apollonia saw that everyone seemed spellbound by the man somehow.

He rose, walking closer.  No one else had done that, that she had seen.

He stood near her.  “Do not worry if it sounds silly, Ms. Nor.  Please tell me what happened in that room.  Everything . . . in that space and beyond.”

Apollonia swallowed again, but her throat was dry.  “I communed with Michal Denso,” she said softly.  “I tried and failed to convince it not to be born, but it wanted to be.  It . . . it wanted to live.  I don’t know what it was like for it before, but it was aware even before it was in that state, I think.  And whatever place, whatever state it was in before that, it did not like it.  It was like . . . torture.”

“And after you could not convince it?”

“Kell appeared,” she said, her voice barely a whisper now.  “Just suddenly.  It wasn’t in the room, we were . . . in a different space.  Some place where Denso looked like a normal man, and . . .”

“And then?”

She felt the tears burst from her eyes.  “And then Kell killed it,” she said.  “It ripped that . . . that baby apart.  I felt its pain, I heard it cry out.  But there was no one there for it.  No one helped.  Not even me.”

Twisting in her seat, she looked up at Kell, sitting in the observation seats above.

“We committed infanticide!” Apollonia yelled to Kell.  “We did it!  You and me – I knew what you were going to do and I let you.  By the Dark . . .  I knew, and I let you.”  She looked away, struggling to stop the flow of tears, as she had so often done.

She’d long ago learned how to hide them when she was angry.

She heard the gasps of the assessors, murmurs arising among their number, their eyes stuck fast, not on her, but on Kell.

The Shoggoth was looking at her, she could feel its gaze even without looking, but its face was entirely impassive, carved from granite.

“In some senses,” it said.  “You are correct.”

The voices all faded, the silence giving testimony to the horror.

“But not entirely,” Kell continued.  “It was, as you say, an unborn leviathan.  For lack of a better term, it is what we must use.  It was not, however, like any child, animal or human, that you think of.  It was not a being ignorant of the world – innocent in every way.”

Kell shook his head.  “Before it even anchored itself to the wretched shell that had been Michal Denso, it knew more than all of your kind combined.  It understood the universe in a way that even I never will.

“And it knew, as did I, that its entry into our reality would kill everyone on MS-29 and the Craton.  These facts meant nothing to it.  We meant nothing to it.  It would have done this in full knowledge that we were all intelligent.”

“Ambassador – you include yourself in this theoretical list of casualties?” the Dessei representative asked.

“That is correct,” Kell replied.  “I would not have survived.

“And I must add that I did not truly kill it.  It is not possible to kill such a being as that, even in such a state.”

“What is the phrase you would use?”

“I returned it to non-existence,” Kell replied.

“Euphemisms are a terrible thing when used thusly, Ambassador,” Cressin said, her eyes narrowing.

“It would simply be incorrect to say that it was killed when it is beyond life and death,” Kell replied.

The voices of the assessors were distraught, confused.

“What does that even mean?” one man asked.  He looked horrified, but also unable to even quantify what he’d just heard.

“This is insanity,” another man said.

“It makes no sense,” a third chimed.  “We have no evidence of any of this!”

“Quiet,” Chairman Chung said.  His voice echoed, and calmness returned to the chamber.  Apollonia looked to him, and in his old eyes she could see the same profound sense of horror that still was inside her.

“As . . . as upsetting as this is,” he said.  “It is not . . . relevant to the question at hand.  I . . .  These statements are truly disturbing, and are novel to this court.  To our laws – to our very understanding of reality itself.  But that cannot distract us from what we do know.”

He took a deep breath and sighed.  “We will take a recess for two hours.”

Apollonia felt a flood of relief and guilt.  The horror had mostly bled from her, leaving her feeling empty, and it took a lot of effort to stand.  She could not make herself look at Kell, but she still felt its eyes burning into her.

Angry with her, she thought.  Well, she was pretty damn angry with it as well.  Guess that made them even.

---

< Ep 5 Part 17 | Ep 5 Part 19 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

An orderly came into the observation room.  “I need you to follow me, Ms. Nor,” he said.

He whisked her off to a room where several officials from the Justice Bureau were waiting.  They gave her instructions, but she felt suddenly almost overcome with nervousness.

“Remember to be concise in your answers,” one said.

“If you are uncomfortable answering a question, you do have the right to refuse,” another said.

“Can I just refuse to go out?” she asked.

“You may,” one told her carefully.  “But there may be repercussions for refusing such a summons.  I highly recommend that you consider the service you will be doing for

  the Sapient Union.  This is part of your duty as a citizen.”

“Okay,” she said, feeling light-headed.

They told her other things that she immediately forgot, then took her through a door.  She found herself in the courtroom, and her knees felt weak.

With exaggerated motion, she forced herself to move with confidence.  Never show weakness, she thought to herself.  Pretending she was back on Vitriol, in an area rife with cutthroats and thieves, helped.  She couldn’t ever show weakness back then, and she refused to now.

Just because these people were government officials with more power than her entire civilization . . . well, that line of thought didn’t help.

It seemed ungodly loud as she sat down in the chair behind the witness stand.  All the eyes were on her.

“Apollonia Nor of New Vitriol, you are hereby sworn in as a material witness,” the Chairman told her.  He continued on, but her mind caught on a point.

“Excuse me,” she said, once he had stopped.  “I’m an SU citizen now.  Please note that.”  Her head swam with nervousness; she’d just corrected the triple-centenarian master judge.

There was a silence at her words for a moment, and she imagined everyone was looking at her with horror, contempt, or a mix of both.

“So noted,” Chung said with a nod.  He seemed entirely undisturbed by her correction.  “Do you vow to tell only what you believe to be the facts and truths of what you have witnessed?”

“I -I do,” she said, swallowing heavily.

“Very well.  If the Tribunal has questions, they may now pose them.”

Kernos spoke first.  “First, Ms. Nor, may I offer the apologies of this tribunal for having to take part in such a difficult event as this, when you are such a new member of our Union.”

“Ah . . . thanks,” she replied.

“Now, if I may – what happened on MS-29?  I know you may not have all the information, but I would like to hear in your words what transpired.”

She hesitated, trying to collect her thoughts.  “We went to the station.  Captain Brooks wanted me to come along to meet Verena Urle – Dr. Urle.  Something felt really weird about the place.  It was . . . dark.”

“Dark?” Kernos asked.  “Do you mean in some sense related to your Cerebral Reading abilities?”

“Yeah,” she replied.  “No one else seemed to notice it.  Except Ambassador Kell – on approach it agreed with me that it was weird.  Cursed, is the word it used to describe the feeling.”

That got some interest; Nuuan’s crest rose, and so did Cressin’s eyebrow.

“When you went onboard was when you had an episode and passed out, is that correct?” Kernos asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“I see.  Do you have any idea why?”

“I thought at the time that it was the suffering on the station.  It was very, very real, but my perception of it wasn’t clear-cut.  Not like a dark room and a lighted room.  After awhile I realized that the darkness wasn’t just on the station, and it wasn’t coming from the place – it was just coming from Michal Denso.”

She shook her head, the feelings and memories so alien, so against her own real experiences that they seemed false even to her.  Yet she knew they were real, would have sworn everything on it.  She had.

“Denso was . . . he was something else.  I worked up my courage to go onto the station and tried to . . . well I tried to convince him to not do what he – it? – was doing.  It didn’t . . . it didn’t work.”

“Excuse me,” the woman, Cressin interjected.  “Is ‘him’ Michal Denso?”

“Yes,” she clarified.

“From what we have heard, you did not have such a conversation with Michal Denso.  When do you say this happened?”

“When I went into the room with him.  Dr. Urle was with me.”

“It is Dr. Urle who says that no such communication took place,” Kernos added, frowning.  “Are you saying that she is lying?”

“What did she say happened?” Apollonia asked.

No one answered, merely staring at her.

Idiot!  They wouldn’t tell her what someone else said if she wasn’t cleared to see it . . .  And clearly Verena had not told them of the communion with whatever Denso was.  There were only three witnesses of that, after all – Verena, Kell, and herself.  At least still alive.

“I mean – well, I’m a CR,” she said.  “It was . . . I don’t know how to describe it – spooky action at a distance?”

“That phrase was once used to describe quantum entanglement,” Cressin noted.  “I do not believe it serves here.”

“Well it’s the best . . . phrase I can use to describe it,” Apollonia said, catching herself mid-sentence, trying not to sound hostile.

“Some kind of extra-sensory communication method?” the Dessei, Nuuan, asked.  His voice sounded dry.  “Like telepathy?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it that,” she said.  “But I suppose like that.”

There was a moment of people looking back and forth, mumbling to each other.  She looked at Brooks, who regarded her calmly.  Seeing her gaze, he offered a soft, reassuring smile.  It did make her feel a little better.

“Were you then, responsible for Michal Denso’s seeming death?” Nuuan asked her.

“No,” she said.

“What was your goal?”

“To convince him to stop what he was doing,” she said.  “He was . . . changing.”

“Please elaborate,” Cressin commanded.

“That wasn’t Michal Denso.  I don’t know what else to call it, but the man who was called that was . . . mostly gone.  Subsumed . . . or . . . maybe consumed?  He was something else.  Something . . . from the Dark.”

She’d never considered herself religious, but the terminology came to her readily.  A part of her felt suddenly humiliated for even bringing it up, but then – it was true.  That thing wasn’t Denso.  Or at least, it mostly wasn’t.  Maybe he was in there in a sense, she couldn’t even parse it all out in her own mind.

“What do you believe this being wished to do?” Nuuan asked.

“Be born,” she said.  “It wasn’t in our reality.  But it wanted to be . . .”

She saw Director Freeman’s eyes glint with excitement.  He was leaning forward in his seat.

“If it was, though, it would have killed everyone on MS-29,” she continued.  “Not even because it wanted to.  It was . . .”

“It was what?”

“It was a baby Leviathan.”

---

< Ep 5 Part 16 | Ep 5 Part 18 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Dr. Logus, please state your credentials for the tribunal,” Chairman Chung said.

Dr. Arn Logus did not look good, Brooks thought.  He was not sickly, as Genson had been, but still looked pale, dark bags under his eyes, as if he had not been sleeping well.

“I have forty-four years of experience in my field,” he began.  “Graduated with High Honors from Luyten University, and have received numerous citations for my work with those affected by high-stress careers here in the Sol System.”

As Logus stopped talking, Admiral Vandoss signaled.  “Doctor, have you had extensive work with fleet officers who work in deep space?”

“No, Admiral, I do not,” Logus replied.  “I typically work with intra-system patients.”

“I fail to see what value this man’s testimony will have,” Vandoss said to the tribunal.  “From the records, the doctor was not involved in any of the moments that are relevant.”

“Nevertheless,” Freeman said testily.  “He can testify to Captain Brooks’s relative state of mind.”

“We would like to hear this,” Kernos said.  “Though I, too, am curious as to the relevancy.”

Freeman walked up.  “Dr. Logus, you were involved in Captain Brooks’s decision to send a mission to violate the Exclusion Zone around the Terris System, correct?”

Logus hesitated – just a slight pause, before answering.  “I was informed,” he said.

“You opposed the mission, didn’t you?”

“I object!” Vandoss said, standing again, his face turning pink.  “That decision is not being questioned.  We’ve been over this.”

“I agree, Admiral,” Freeman replied, doing a better job of keeping calm than Vandoss.  “Nevertheless – I beg some indulgence, as it is relevant.  Doctor, the specific details of the mission are unimportant.  What would you say Brooks’s mental state was like when he made this decision?”

Brooks felt himself lean forward.  The tension between him and the psychologist had been . . . intense, especially at that time.

“Captain Brooks was calm, but very concerned for the lives of both his crew and the people on MS-29,” Logus said.

Brooks could tell that Freeman was as surprised as he was.  “Doctor . . . from my understanding of your earlier reports, you believed Captain Brooks was acting irrationally.”

“I did not use that word,” Logus said.  “But whatever my earlier report, further study and reflection on the situation have caused me to reconsider my earlier observations.  Captain Brooks was adamant, yes, but I believe he felt that the mission was entirely worth the risk – a decision that I must reluctantly say I now agree with.”

Brooks felt floored.  Of all the people to defend him, he had not expected Arn Logus.

Though . . . Jaya had spoken on his behalf, hadn’t she?

Grudgingly, Brooks decided he had to take a new look at the doctor – run over their prior interactions in his head, try to see them in a more objective light.

“So you believe there was a severe danger to the station from Michal Denso?”

Logus looked uncomfortable.  “I . . .  That I cannot say.  It is certainly within the realm of possibility, inasmuch as we know so little about these sorts of matters.  I . . . do not know if I would have made the same decisions as Brooks in the situation.  But I am not a star captain, and I believe he acted within the bounds of fleet regulation in his actions.”

“Including in his failure to follow my orders?” Freeman asked.

Logus sighed.  “Orders must be interpreted by the officer in command in the field.  At times they do not have the whole picture, but at times neither do those not present have a true grasp of the situation.  Thus, I must say that his actions seem to fall within fleet rules and regulations.”

Freeman digested that a moment.  “But ultimately, you feel that we do not know the extent of danger – or lack thereof – that Denso posed, correct?”

“That is true,” Logus replied.  “None of us can.”

“I am not so certain of that,” Freeman replied softly.  “Those are my questions.”

Vandoss stood and cleared his throat.

For a moment, Brooks thought he was just about to chew out the man, who had an even more intense dislike of psychologists than Brooks did.

To his relief, though, Vandoss was calm.  “Doctor, in your estimation, beyond rules and regulations, do you believe that what Captain Brooks did was correct?”

Logus did not hesitate.  “Yes, Admiral.  I do.”

“That is all.”

Brooks did not know what to say, if he even could have spoken to the doctor, as he rose and began for the exit.  He could only watch him, as Logus avoided his eyes.

Just before he left the room, however, he did glance over.  Brooks could not tell the expression in his eyes, but through his own he tried to convey his thanks.

---

< Ep 5 Part 14 | Ep 5 Part 16 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“When did you first believe that something suspicious was going on that violated orders, Dr. Genson?”

The man looked like he had aged in the time since Brooks had last seen him.  It had only been what, ten days?  Yet the man seemed thinner, his hair grayer.

“I . . .  After we received the dream trace images from Michal Denso’s sleep, around the time he began to emit krahteons, Dr. Urle went to confer with Captain Brooks,” he said.  His voice rattled, and Brooks wondered just how bad his health had become.

As far as he knew, no one had received such a dose of krahteons that they should be causing major health problems.

But the treatments for an exposure could be quite harsh in themselves.  The immune system of the body had to be driven into overdrive, to hunt any cancerous cells.  Likewise, nanoprobes had to be sent in to ferret out even more.

It was possible this was only from those treatments . . .

But to Brooks, it seemed like something else entirely.

“And why did you find that odd?” Advisor Nuuan asked.

“Because we had just made a significant discovery about a patient that threatened lives.  And she left, specifically to talk to Brooks.  I recall it, because it seemed inappropriate.”

“Was there anything else she should have done, beyond what the record shows she did?” Davij Kernos asked him.

“There is no procedure for such a situation, sir.  I don’t know what else she should have done, I only remember it struck me as odd.”

“And then later, Doctor Urle attempted to terminate Michal Denso’s life,” Nuuan noted.

“Yes,” Genson said.

The Chairman raised a hand.  “I must note that Dr. Urle’s actions are not under scrutiny today.  There have been no charges, and the Medical Bureau has backed her options as following protocol.  Captain Brooks supported her decision to attempt to terminate Denso, following protocol.”

“No one is accusing Dr. Urle,” Director Freeman said.  “But Captain Brooks had also been given orders by myself to prevent exactly this from happening.  And as we have since learned, Dr. Urle was present in the room when I spoke to him.”

“Is this true, Captain?” Kernos asked Brooks.

“Yes,” Brooks said.

“When did you give your consent to Dr. Urle’s plan?” Kernos asked him.

“Prior to Dr. Freeman’s order,” Brooks said.  “But I still held the same view afterward.”

The Tribunal took in his words silently, sparing only a few glances between each other.

Vandoss stood.  “I would like to point out something that is obvious but I believe is escaping notice here; Captain Brooks is not in the Research Division, but is a Voidfleet Officer.  Dr. Freeman did not have the authority to override the acting duties of a Voidfleet Captain – not without permission from above.”

“This is a point of contention,” Kernos said.  “It is not common that a ranking officer from another division gives such a controversial command to a command-level officer of another branch without formal backing.”

“Time was of the essence,” Freeman said.  “I have defended this under the Emergency Expediency Ruling, and it has been provisionally upheld by the Justice Bureau.”

“Provisionally!” Admiral Vandoss said sourly.  “In other words, it’s horseshit.”

Even Brooks was surprised to hear the man talk so crudely, even if he felt similarly.

The Tribunal members did not seem to like it either; at least Kernos and Cressin looked displeased.  Nuuan was as unreadable as any Dessei, whose crest had not moved a centimeter.

“Do you have any other questions for Dr. Genson?” the Chairman asked.

“I have one more,” Cressin said.  “Doctor, do you believe that Dr. Urle’s decision was correct?”

Genson hesitated, glancing down and away.  Brooks saw him squirming, and suddenly hated the man.  He’d not felt it before, but now he had an undeniable feeling that the man was just Freeman’s puppet.  Perhaps some people could have been there and not agreed with Verena’s decision, but he could tell Genson did.  There were too many lives to risk anything else.

“I beg the tribunal’s permission,” he said, “not to have to answer that.”

Cressin looked to Nuuan, whose crest did rise; the Dessei was surprised.  But they looked to Kernos and nodded.

“Very well,” Kernos said.  “We will excuse you from the question.”

Freeman cleared his throat.  “On Dr. Genson’s behalf, I would like to add that he is currently suffering ill-health as a result of the events on MS-29.  I would like to extend my thanks to him for his bravery in still agreeing to come forward.”

Genson was excused, standing and quickly moving towards the door, his every movement sickly and rushed, as if he was near panic.

“We call as a witness Dr. Arn Logus,” Kernos said.

Brooks took a sharp intake of breath.

This, he felt, would not go well.

---

< Ep 5 Part 13 | Ep 5 Part 15 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Ham Sulp grinned back at Zeela.  “That’s a fair deal,” he said.

Zeela gave few pleasantries as she left.  He always appreciated that she didn’t stand on ceremony very much with him – his time was also precious, and he hated to have it wasted.

Five spacehounds!  A heck of a thing.

A lot of dogs had been taken to space by various colonists before faster-than-light had been a thing.  Each ship had groomed those dogs into entire new breeds to fit their conditions and, most importantly, space itself.  Sturdier genes and repair mechanisms to keep rad-damaged DNA to a minimum, changed bodies and hair colors . . .  most tended to be white and short-haired (as shed hairs drifting about were quite the problem in zero-g), or not to shed at all.

And back in the home system, they’d been changed even more.  Someone, a few hundred years ago, had decided it would be a good idea to uplift some dogs; to make them smarter with technology and gene editing

They weren’t as smart as a person.  But they could understand basic sentences better than any normal dog, they lived longer, and could – with the help of a vocoder – give simple replies to questions.

Kind of bordering on unnatural, in his opinion, but they were very popular.  And due to the very careful conditions under which they were bred and raised, very hard to get.  No one wanted to let something as controversial as uplifting a species to sapience be uncontrolled . . .

And Zeela had procured five!

Going over to his desk, he brought up a holo-screen and dialed in a specific link code he knew by heart.

The recipient was twelve light-seconds distant – not far, by astronomical standards.  It would make the call a bit tedious still, but damn him he wasn’t going to waste the resources on an FTL call when it was just twelve seconds!

“Pick up, ya dud,” he growled.

The other end finally answered, and a very dry voice spoke.

“Damn it, Sulp, this better not mean you’re in-system with the Craton.”

Sulp threw his arms open.  “I am!  We’re in a great dance with Plucharon, sending gravity ripples through the whole damn system!”

The man on the other end finally appeared, his voice movements out of sync with the speaking, and Sulp adjusted it so they matched.

He waited the twenty-four seconds for the reply.

“Ah, damn my eyes, man!  You could have given me a warning!”

“Could have,” Sulp said.  “Didn’t.”

Eabor Zaron’s job was an unenviable one, by Sulp’s view.  There were millions of objects in a given solar system, and then intelligent species added millions more, often with some very fiddly orbits.  Given the scale of the colonization of Sol at this point, it was no longer just a nicety to keep track of most of those bigger things and their effects on gravity.

And when a ship like the Craton came in, using its fancy ability to rip open holes in space, thus allowing the pseudo-gravity pull of zerospace to move it along, well . . . the already-intricate suddenly got a hell of a lot more complicated.

“Well aren’t you just a miserable son of a bitch,” Zaron said.  But then he smiled.  “But all the same, good to see you so close.  Lunch?”

“Sounds good.  You pick – least I can do.”

“It’s gonna take two weeks of overtime to sort out the mess that thing makes whenever she comes in-system,” Eabor noted.  Overtime meant a whole six hours a day!

“Yeah, cry me a river,” Sulp said amiably.  Fact was, Zaron’s office would have been notified prior to Sulp even knowing he was coming back to Sol.  Gravity Control had to know; it actually made them one of the greatest sources of intelligence on fleet movements in the entirety of the Sapient Union.  For that reason, and the sheer difficulty of his job, Zaron held the rank of System Commodore.

“Hey, I got a ticket from Zeela Cann for five spacehounds.  Mind if I have them sent to you, and I can pick them up at the same time?”

The man’s face lit up.  “Hell, I’d have asked if you hadn’t told me.  I had the best spacehound growing up – not as smart as the modern ones, but damn if he wasn’t the best dog ever!”

“Everyone’s dog is the best dog,” Sulp said.  “According to their owners.  I’d just say all dogs are great.”

“Well, get me the info and I’ll get them in.  I’m sure everyone here will feel good having them around, even if for just a day or two.”

“Great.  I’ll be headed your way later today – expect me tomorrow.”

They disconnected, and Sulp considered a moment.

Now what was he gonna name those five spacehounds?

---

< Ep 5 Part 12 | Ep 5 Part 14 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

I really have other things I need to be doing, Zeela thought, as she made her way to the Bilge.

She had heard once that the term had something to do with the old boats that humans had used to travel about on oceans in Earth’s history.  But nowadays, it was just a nickname for the Resource Deck.

It was not a whole deck, but it occupied most of one, containing most of the bulk supplies the ship needed.  And in the heart of it, was Ham Sulp’s office.

The man lurked in the Bilge most of the time, like a spider in its web.  Or maybe a dragon with its gold hoard – though for Sulp his hoard was bulk goods and many, many tons of nurdles that could be melted and molded into any shape needed by the ship’s many 3D printers.

Making her way through the maze of crates of nurdles, dodging the drones that were endlessly sweeping up dropped ones – seriously, how did so many get loose? – she managed to find the door to the office area.

Hidden behind a stack of crates, Zeela hit the chime, though surely Sulp already knew she was here.

He liked to make mazes of his crates, and especially to hide his door, coming up with new innovative designs when too many people learned how to find it easily.  “Never make it too easy for people to find you,” he had told her once.  “Or they’ll drop in all the time.”

Of course, she was an exception.

The door opened for her and she went in.

“Zeela,” he said warmly, spitting out some of his green tea chew and rising to greet her.

It was vital that she had good relations with the man for the ship to run smoothly, and so she had done everything she could to cultivate a good relationship.  Sulp had realized the importance as well, and after several years on the ship they had become true friends.  Probably Sulp’s only close friend on board, she thought.

“What brings you down to the Bilge?” he asked.

“Oh, just wanted to personally check on what you found on the drones that came from Iago Caraval’s quarters.  Have you found out what was causing their problem?”

Sulp grunted, brow furrowing.  It was odd for her to come check on something prosaic, but that meant there had to be something important about it.

“We ran the basic diagnosts,” he said, cutting off the word as he popped fresh chew in his mouth.  “But no issues, ‘sides the fact that his boy apparently liked to glue eyeballs on them.”

“Eyeballs?”

“The googly kind.  Honestly I had wondered who had made an order for 3,000 googly eyes – guess it was him.  Sure would like to know what else he’s be-dewed with eyeballs at this point.”

She had to hold back her laugh.  She had gotten some reports of statues in the gardens getting eyes . . .  But telling him that gem would have to wait.

“They really hadn’t been doing their job,” she said.  “The room was a mess.”

“Would it have killed him to report this himself?  Or stars forbid, just clean his own room?”

“The man went through a trauma, Ham.”

Sulp just shrugged.  “I’ll keep diving deeper and see if there’s a real problem.  But . . . from searching the log, it seems more like he was just telling them not to clean.”

“What?” she asked.

“I see at least forty-two commands to stop cleaning and go into hibernation from the man over the past few days.  Or at least that’s how the drones were interpreting things he said.  We can always look to see if there’s an issue with their speech recognition.”

“I see.  Well . . . hopefully he’ll have better luck with the current set.”

Sulp grunted again and turned away.  “We also bumped his new chair up the queue as you requested.  Should be done in a few minutes and we’ll get it up to him.”

“Thank you.  There is one more thing, though.  I know you were going to leave in a few hours to see a friend-“

Sulp glanced up at her.  “It’s a supply run.”

“Oh, you could send anyone on that.  You just want to see Eabor, and that’s fine, but I thought maybe you could do something else for me?”

The man frowned.  “If I’m on-duty, and it’s not too much trouble, and if I’m in the mood-“

“Here,” she said, handing over a hard copy of the orders.

His jaw fell open.  “You’re shitting me.”

“No, if I was, it’d be something even more absurd, like a trained ostrich.”

“I’d rather that than a spacehound.  You know they shed, right?  At least an ostrich has some good meat, but spacehounds taste-“

“Tat tat!” she said, holding up a hand.  “I don’t want to know what kinds of living creatures you’ve eaten.  I don’t even like to think about what kind of lifeforms people used to eat.”

“Fair ’nuff.  All right, though.  Five of the spacehounds?”  He shook his head.  “People are gonna pet their fur off.”

“It’s a trial run,” she said.  “They’re already trained, and if they’re being pet too much they’ll go to their rest area.  You know the Captain always liked the idea, but the waitlist for Sol System spacehounds is so long-“

“Shouldn’t be so picky,” Sulp said, still eying the paper.  “Some good dogs from a good spacer colony will be a lot better.”

Zeela did not agree with that.  True spacer breeds were often as temperamental as Sulp.  Not biters, but they still were not the friendly, helpful companions most people thought of.

“Well, it’s the perfect time all around.  We could use a morale boost.”

“True enough.  How’s the preparations for the election going, by the way?”

“Just fine,” she lied.  She was going to be very behind, but she’d make it up.

He did not pick up on that, instead turning away, still looking at the paperwork and shaking his head.  He brought out a tablet and scanned the documents before tucking them away.

“That is on my way,” he admitted.  “I’ll do it.  But you owe me one.”

“I’ll get you a great dinner when you return,” she promised with a smile.

---

< Ep 5 Part 11 | Ep 5 Part 13 >