---

Brooks entered the bridge.  Cenz had taken the watch and seemed distracted reading a tablet.  But the being’s attention could go in many directions, and he was fully aware of Brooks’s arrival.

“Commander,” Brooks said, giving him a nod.

“Captain,” the being replied.  “We are only seven minutes from entry to this system’s Kuiper Belt.  Our information indicates that the colony of . . . New Vitriol . . . is a mostly-rocky object approximately ten kilometers in diameter.  We are not aware of how large the population is, but some of the public records we had access to in the last two colonies suggest Vitriol had initially a population of 300,000 or so – thus New . . . Vitriol will have less than that.”

Brooks caught the way the coral hung up on the word.  “Is something bothering you, Cenz?”

“Ah, yes sir.  This name – Vitriol.  It’s hard to translate into my language.  And even when translated, I’m having trouble understanding it.”

Brooks moved to sit.  “Ah, yes.  Well . . . how would you define the word?”

“Angry critique?  But there is an element of the translation that I just do not understand.”

“That’s because the word implies more than anger – there is an element of intentionally wishing harm in it.”

Cenz was silent for a moment, and his face screen went to a strange sort of default blankness.  Lights in his suit flashed in confused patterns, and staring at it was dazzling.

“I understand that many species have had wars and conflicts.  My own people have become involved in those of the Sapient Union, but I was not directly.  In a way, I can understand that these stemmed almost always from material causes – the lack of or desire for something vital to life.”

“But cruelty is not something you are able to really understand,” Brooks commented.

“. . . that’s correct, Captain.”  He was silent a moment before adding; “In some ways I feel it gives me a permanent blind spot when it comes to other species.  Your natural evolution has, for some reason, given your species the ability to have these thoughts.  And yet . . . mine cannot seem to conceive of them.”

Brooks wasn’t sure how to reply to that; it was true, though.  His species was capable of cruelty; it was some kind of by-product of evolution that served a purpose that was hard for him to justify.  And humanity was not alone; most other sapient species had, at least somewhere in their history, shown such behaviours.

None of them were proud of it, but they could not change their pasts.  They could only try now to rise above.

“At times your own kind are difficult for us to understand,” he finally said.  “We’re singular minds, not collectives.  I suppose, though, I am glad that your kind can’t feel it.  You’re not missing out on much of value.”

“Why would they name their colony a term that implies such cruelty?” Cenz asked.

“Anger, I would guess.  They felt slighted, and they wanted everyone to know it.  It’s not a mature thought.  But we are formed largely by our environments and conditions.  Given certain kinds of conditions, we can turn out to think and act in ways that seem insane – even to others of our own species.”

He felt oddly cold, but the only reason he might have felt that would be if Kell was present; yet the sensors confirmed he was in his cabin.

Cenz turned to business.  “We’re about to come back into realspace in thirty seconds.”

Brooks put on the comm.  “All personnel, prepare for reversion to realspace.”

“I will be very grateful to have this shaking cease,” Cenz said.

“Are you feeling all right?”

“Well enough.  I might be what you’d call sore for a few days.  But hopefully we won’t have to leave here immediately, so I can recuperate somewhat.”

Brooks knew he’d have to make sure he fully understood the extent of harm that the being had suffered through the trip.  Cenz was a dutiful officer, and he was not sure if this trip had given him the equivalent of a headache or broken rib.

Making a note to himself to check on that later, he composed himself for their immediate concern.

With a lurch they re-entered real space.

Brooks glanced to Cenz and saw a placid smile on his face, which reassured him.

Checking that everyone else on board was fine, he then switched to external view and found the colony of New Vitriol.

“I’ve sent a message, but we’re just getting an automated reply,” Cenz noted.

Urle entered the bridge, followed by Kell.  The compartment was beginning to feel crowded.

“Uknown ship, follow beacon course laid out for you.”

It was a message, but not an open channel.

Cenz looked to Brooks for orders.

“Take us in,” he ordered.

Kell was staring off, not at the monitors, but just above them.

Urle caught his direction of gaze.  “What is it, Kell?  You look like you’ve just seen a Leviathan.”

“No,” the Ambassador replied.  “But I see something.  There is a presence here . . .”

“What kind of presence?” Brooks asked.  “Is it a danger?”

Kell shook his head.  “I believe it is the seer.”

“Seer?” Urle asked.

“It’s a very old term from the English language,” Cenz chipped in.  “For a being who is able to ‘see’ the future.”

“Or other things,” Kell said.

“Such things are superstition,” Urle noted sourly.

“Perhaps,” Kell replied.

Brooks arched an eyebrow but said nothing on the topic.

“I want everyone dressed and assembled for disembarkment in ten minutes.  We set down in fifteen.”

---

< Ep 2 Part 11 | Ep 2 Part 13 >

---

“I wanted to stay, though.  Captain can I stay?” Hannah asked.

Brooks smiled to her, but didn’t dismiss the idea immediately.  For a city-ship, having its younger populace take an interest in how things worked was something they both hoped for and cultivated.

This was not the most drastic of circumstances.  On a smaller and younger colony like this, it was likely they would be able to talk to the Governor initially via signals rather than a face-to-face after landing.

It was a place outside the Sapient Union, too.  Sometimes it was a mistake to only let the up-and-coming see how things worked internally.  It would mean they were caught flat-footed when they had to deal with outside officials.

“I’m all right with it,” he decided.  “Executive Commander, how do you feel about it?”

“So long as you stay quiet, Hannah, you can stay.”

“I want to stay too!” Persis interjected quickly.

Urle was calm but firm.  “No, Persis.  You can sit in another time, but this time Hannah gets to.  No pouting – this is not a game.  This is very serious.  Now go back to the cabin.”

“Next time?” she asked sadly.

“I can’t promise next time.  But eventually, yes,” Urle added.

The girl left slowly, but did go.  Urle confirmed via sensors that she had, in fact, returned to her room, while Brooks moved to sit in the co-pilot’s chair.

Hannah sat down on a stool in the corner and strapped herself down, watching with eager eyes.

Urle flipped on the intercom.  “Attention, we will be exiting the dash in approximately thirty seconds.  There is likely to be turbulence, so everyone please strap in.”

Checking that Hannah did so, and that the sensors confirmed everyone else had – save Kell – Urle watched the seconds tick down.

Unlike a proper zerogate, there was no exit to catch them.  It was more like being thrown, and the ship itself would have to engage a tenkionic braking system that would cause them to shed the colossal amounts of energy they had accumulated.  Simple physics rendered it impossible to be moving faster than light and exist in their own dimension.

No being could possibly have manually exited such a jump.  The timing was so precise, the speeds so great, that the most sensitive computers possible still found it taxing.

Urle simply watched the numbers tick down, and they felt the ship begin rattling with extra fervor.

The exit was rougher even than the journey, and they were all thrown forward – such exits were hard enough to cause injuries, and the Hurricane‘s own dampeners strained to keep it under control.

Brooks felt himself thrown forward, held back only by his restraints.  The whole ship lurched, then became still.

“Ow,” Hannah said flatly.  “Could that have been any bumpier, dad?” she asked.

“Shush, you’re fine,” Urle said, checking her readouts while Brooks suppressed his smile.

“Everyone seems fine,” Brooks added, checking the rest of the crew.

“Did Kell fall?” Urle asked.  He sounded a bit hopeful.

“No.  Barely even twitched, according to this.”

Urle sighed.  “Someday, the Ambassador’s going to be in a genuinely rough exit and regret not strapping in.”

Ahead of them, a massive and glorious gas giant loomed.  It was vaguely like Jupiter, but over twice the mass and far deeper in color.  Around it, moons nearly as large as Earth orbited.

Of those they could see, most were varied and extremely volatile; the tidal forces of the massive planet pulled them to and fro with each orbit, keeping their insides molten and active.

But one of the smaller moons seemed relatively stable, internally.  It was an iceball smaller than Earth’s moon, with a rocky core – certainly rich in the materials needed for a growing colony.

Heat readings from the moon broadcasted the presence of the settlement – even embedded in ice there was no way to hide the infrared energy of colony-scale fusion reactors.

“We’re in range,” Urle noted.  “Getting an automatic query.  Making our request.”

A few moments passed.  “Getting reluctant permission to talk to the Governor.  It’s your show, Captain.”

Brooks joined the channel.  “Greetings, Governor, this is Captain-Mayor Ian Brooks.  I have come trying to find a specific person who-“

“You came from Tede?” the male voice came back.  There was a visual channel, but the man wasn’t using it.

“Tede?” Brooks asked.  “We just took the dashgate from New Begonia-“

“Tede!” the man said.  “Those bastards lied to you, Captain.  They’re all liars and sneak-thieves.”

“Lied to me about what?” he asked.

“Anything – everything.  They’re a blight, a stain on the memory of Corran Tede.”

Urle gave him a confused glance, but Brooks kept his face a pleasant mask – he was broadcasting in the visual band even if the Governor wasn’t.

“I see.  That is unfortunate to hear, Governor.  However, I still have my mission – perhaps you’d be able to assist me in that.”

“Why?” the voice insisted.  “You’ve already been poisoned by them, I know it.  It’s all part of their plan, to destroy Tede’s legacy and set themselves up as no better than those decadent whoresons on the homeworld.”

Brooks let his annoyance show.  “Governor, if you have this much of a grievance with the other colony – whatever it may be called – I suggest you speak to them about it.  I am not here on their behalf.”

“No?” the voice challenged.  “We know they’ve been in negotiation to join your Union of false prophets so you can do their dirty work for them.”

“No, Governor, they have not.  They did not even want us to stay any longer than necessary, as a matter of fact.  We spent less than eight hours at the colony – far too little to work out any sort of accord.”

There was a long silence.  Brooks had a gut feeling that prompted him to continue on.

“However, if you wish to speak to one of our diplomats to be assured that we have not entered into any accord with the other colony – or to seek assistance in arbitrating your differences, then I will be happy to summon one who could arrive in a week or so.”

Silence.

Finally, a reply came.  “That won’t be necessary.”

“Very well, Governor.  Now, there is a person I am seeking – they are an unusual individual with strange gifts-“

“I know who you mean,” the Governor said.  “We threw her out.”

Brooks felt his heart beat faster.

“Do you mean to tell me that you spaced this individual?”

“No,” the voice came back.  It was reproachful, if anything.  “They’re with the other traitors.  Not the ones at Tede, the ones at New Vitriol.”

Brooks frowned.  “Another colony?”

“The cowards fled out farther from the system,” the Governor sneered.  “All a buncha mutants and rejects who didn’t want to keep with the true teachings of the Dawn.”

“As unfortunate as that sounds, I need to find this individual.  Where can I find New Vitriol?”

There was a pause again.  “We can send you the data and you can have permission to use our dashgate – on one condition, Captain.”

“What is it?”

“Tell them to go to hell.”

The connection was severed and Brooks looked to Urle.  The two men just stared at each other for a moment when Hannah spoke.

“He was so rude!” she said.  “And what’s a horse-on?”

“Nothing,” Urle said immediately.  “Forget it.  Now . . . go back to your cabin, if you will.  The Captain and I have work to do.”

“All right,” she said, pushing off her stool to float towards the door.  “And if you don’t know then I’ll go look it up.”

After she left, Urle groaned.  “Shouldn’t have let her stay.”

“Well, who could have known they’d be this crazy out here?” Brooks replied.  “I’ve heard of colonies getting insular and . . . unhealthy, but this is a severe case.  At least they don’t seem actively hostile.”

“I’m keeping all the sensors and the defense grid ready just in case,” Urle muttered.  “They did send us information, though.  It seems their jumpgate is on a nearby orbital path, lagging behind their colony a little.  It’ll be around to us in about six hours.  The dash, though . . . that looks like it’s going to be another eighteen.  I hope it’s a little better maintained.”

Brooks grimaced.  “All right.  Then let’s get some rest and hop it in a few hours.  The faster we get out of this system the better.”

“You go ahead and sleep through,” Urle told him.  “I’ll take a watch then get Cenz to relieve me.  You can take the shift after him.”

Nodding, Brooks got up and stretched.  “All right, then, see you later.”

---

< Ep 2 Part 9 | Ep 2 Part 11 >

---

“A dashgate?” Urle echoed.  “Well, the Hurricane is fit to travel through them, but I can’t say I’m thrilled at the prospect.”

“I’m not any happier,” Brooks replied.

After returning to the shuttle, Brooks had sent out a return signal to everyone with them.  He had no doubt that it would have been safe for them to stay out their fourteen-day visas here, but they were here with a purpose, and he did not want to push the patience of the colonists.  One day, they might actually feel ready to engage with the Sapient Union.

In the cockpit of the shuttle he had gathered Urle, Logus, and Kell.  Or the latter had, at least, decided to join them.

“What is the issue with dashgates?” Dr. Logus asked.  “They’re in standard use within planetary systems – they’re all over the home system.”

“Yes, but those are very well-constructed and maintained gates,” Urle explained.  “In frontier systems, things tend to be of lower quality and in poor repair.  On top of that, the tech is just rougher around the edges than a zerodrive.”

“I have not actually travelled in one,” Kell noted.  “I left Earth in a special ship that was allowed the use of a zerodrive further in the system.”

Urle took a deep breath.  “Likely because some people react poorly to dashgates and command did not want to risk you getting sick so early in our co-existence, Ambassador.”

Kell frowned.  “Shoggoths do not get sick.”

“Of course,” Urle noted dryly.  “But for explanation’s sake; for safety reasons dashgates don’t open a proper hole into zerospace, but sort of slide a ship halfway between that and realspace.  It works better for short distances like those within a system, but it’s energy-wasteful and can be very bumpy.”

“I am interested to try it,” Kell said.

Brooks looked to his Executive Commander.  “Urle, while everyone gets settled in, check the colony records for maintenance on the dashgate – get an idea of how safe it is.  If you deem it acceptable, then in one hour we’ll make lift-off and head for this second colony.”

“Vitriol,” Urle muttered.  “Sounds like a fantastic place.”

A small smile that was uncomfortable to look at crossed Kell’s face.  “I find this whole story quite amusing,” he admitted.

---

The dashgate was functional.  Both the Hurricane‘s onboard computer and Urle’s own calculations determined it to be well within safety margins.

But that didn’t mean it was a pleasant trip.  The gate was small – one of the advantages of a dashgate – and the ship rattled through nearly the entire duration of the four-hour trip.

Brooks knew it had to be hardest on Cenz, with each individual polyp of his body being jostled the entire way, and checked in on him.  But the science officer was his typical cheerful self.

“It’s an interesting sensation,” he admitted.  Yet the smile on his screen looked forced.

When they were ten minutes from re-entering normal space, Brooks went to the cockpit.

The door opened obligingly for him when he approached, and a child came tumbling out, literally doing a slow end-over-end in the zero-g, a high-pitched shriek on her tongue.  Brooks knew Urle’s daughters, of course, and helped catch Persis before she hit a wall.  Her shriek had turned to giggles, and Hannah floated out, holding what appeared to be a sensor wand as a sword.

“NOW I AM VICTORIOUS- hello, Captain Brooks!” the girl said, switching tone and manners in an instant.  She ducked the wand behind her back.  With her free hand, she gave him a salute.

“Hello Captain Brooks,” Persis said, still fighting her laughter.

“Hello, girls,” the Captain replied, struggling to keep his own smile in check.  “I need you to go on back to your cabin – we’re going to be coming out soon and I’m going to have to talk to people I expect to be both unfriendly and boring.”

“Can I watch if I’m quiet?” Hannah asked.  “I’ll raise my hand if I have a question,” she added.

Urle sat up and spoke, before Brooks could answer.

“Captain!” he said, getting up from the chair.  The fact that he hadn’t spoken up yet made Brooks wonder if he’d actually fallen asleep while the two were playing.  It might be the reason Hannah had been able to get the delicate sensor in the first place . . .

“Where did you find that?” Urle asked her, still holding the sensor wand.  “Did it float off the equipment rack with all the rattling?”

“Yeah . . . yeah, it did!” Hannah said, daintily handing it to her father.  Urle glanced to Brooks, looking quizzical.  Hannah also looked at him, alarmed.  He knew, of course, that she had been using it as a toy.

Brooks gave a shrug and a smile back to Urle.  “She was picking it up when I came in.  It seems she had quite a good sense of how valuable and breakable it is.”

“Oh, good,” Urle said.  “Okay, girls, time to go back to your cabin.”

---

< Ep 2 Part 8 | Ep 2 Part 10 >

---

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 >