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

---

These waters were refreshing in a way that he had never known.

They were not Earth’s oceans; that alone made them unique to him.  The feel of the water, its taste over his entire body, was novel.

He could not remember the last time he had felt this way.

Like the world was fresh, like there was still some value in seeing what lay over the horizon.

In the past he’d felt he had all the time in the world – but then he had not known just how true it was.

Now, the time was limited.  And there was so much new to taste.

The fish-like creatures here had no innate fear of him; they jumped at shadows, but when he wished it he cast none.

They tasted different than the fish he had known.  A certain piquance that required him to alter parts of himself to properly appreciate.

He had observed something very large swimming out in the deeper waters.  Soon he would go and eat it as well.

If only this world would not end.  He could spend a million years here, savoring all it had to offer.

Already the sun had risen on this world thirty times since he had arrived.  It was a strange sensation to even have to keep track of such a thing as time.

The moon above was scarcely visible from this place in the water.  It never moved, a strange hovering sight.  He could feel its presence, its pull.  It was small, but it was there.

It would not be long until it fell.  How interesting that would be to see.  It might even be enough to kill him.

So far, nothing else had proven capable.  It might be interesting to stay, and see if he could survive.

Something tugged at his will as he even thought of the idea.  The old compulsion to stay alive, no matter the cost . . .

He would go further into the water.  Away from the moon.  Perhaps, for a time, he could forget about it.

He had been told that the other side of this world had no real land, just more ocean.

For a Shoggoth, paradise.

What would he find there?

---

< Ep 12 part 20 | Ep 12 part 22 >

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

---

The night was a strange one for him.

Brooks had heard crickets and other such night creatures before – immersion audio made it sound, he had been told, like one was really there.

But he had never had the experience.  Antarctica had been too cold, even before the Ring Collapse, for such things.

The night sounds on Ko were different, yet he could hear how they had convergently evolved to be similar.  There was some kind of drone from something he could imagine to be large crickets.  Cries of creatures that might be arboreal mammals or night birds.  The calls of some kind of predator, answered in kind.

Even on other jungle worlds he’d been on, he’d had a full shelter unit.  They could be collapsed and carried on one’s back, but offered high protection and dampened outside noises.

Their camp this time was lighter.  He had to be able to listen for sounds.

And so he had a symphony all night long.

It marveled him to think of just how much life was right outside of his shelter’s walls.

Once, the sensors detected something outside the tent.  A small crawling creature that went around the edges of the shelter before heading back off into the night.

Despite it all, he found himself drifting off to the sounds.

He awoke later on to the sound of Kai stepping out of her half of the shelter and into the night.

“Is something wrong?” he asked her softly through comms.

“No,” she replied.  A few minutes later she returned.

“What was it?” he asked.

“Something big came close.  But the drones dissuaded it.”

He fell back asleep.

The first glow in the sky awoke him.

Ko’s day was longer than Earth’s at 27 hours, so he’d gotten a lot of sleep.

Rising, he checked his logs, but nothing had ever tried to take a bite out of his boots.

Considering for a moment, he decided to wear the mocassins and put his spaceboots over them.

Eating a breakfast stick, he and Kai headed back towards the bridge.

“There,” she said, pointing down.

He looked, and saw in the muddy ground smeared footprints.  They were approaching the camp – but in a rather sharp turn moved away.

The prints were over half a meter long.

“It was something big,” he said.

The drones told him that the !Xomyi had not crossed the bridge, but it took a few more minutes for the sensor drones with the group to bring in their data; they went dormant when their target wasn’t moving to conserve power and were slow to reactivate.

He felt relieved when it said they were all still in their camp.

At the bridge, he ordered Kai back to an overwatch position and sat down at his end of the tree bridge.

There was nothing to do but wait and hope.  If the !Xomyi did not come, he would have to go to them.  It was a much more dangerous prospect – his approach could be interpreted as hostility.

Looking into the sky, he realized that he could see Omen even now.

It did not move in the sky, having fallen into a geosynchronous orbit.  It hovered low off to the West, directly above the main continent out that way.

Even in the light he could make it out easily.

The day warmed, and he decided to take off his boots, folding them up and putting them in his pack.  He stuffed the pack into a hole on the tree and covered it with bark.

The mocassins would be better to meet them in.  His boots had been a silvery-gray, unlike his coolsuit, which was mostly tan – like worked hide.

The sun was almost directly overhead, and he’d gotten another leaf to cover his head, sticking the stem to his back with a fastener.

Then his sensors pinged that the !A!amo were headed towards the bridge.

“Kai, we’ve got friendlies incoming,” he said.

“Copy.  Let’s be sure they are friendly before we let our guard down too much, though.”

He didn’t reply to that.  She wasn’t wrong; sometimes isolated groups could be intensely violent towards outsiders.

If the !A!amo decided they wanted to throw spears and shoot arrows at him when they saw him, they could.  This was their planet, and he was an intruder.

He just hoped fervently that it would not be the case.  Not for his sake; his coolsuit should protect him from those basic weapons, leaving only his face vulnerable.

He heard a click in the distance; Kai had cocked her rifle.

“Eyes on,” she said over the radio.

“I see them,” he replied.

It was the same two that had been scouting yesterday, the sensors told him.

He saw them now, just their heads visible above some foliage.

Their eyes were slitted against the light, and they were scanning across the river bank carefully.

He did not move.

They looked at him and their heads ducked back down, turning towards each other as they disappeared.

A moment later, one peered back out, its eyes open a little more, followed by the other.  They stared at him for nearly a minute before ducking away again.

They were almost sixty meters away, and it had been hard to make out much detail.  One had paler fur than the other, but it seemed sparse on both.  Neither had any visible ornamentation.

He suddenly remembered that he still had the leaf on his head.

Well, he thought.  Perhaps it would help him seem like he belonged here.

“What are they doing?” he asked Kai.  He did not want to take his eyes off the jungle to even bring up the drone data.

“The two are moving back towards the group . . . they’ve reached it.  They’re stopping.”

He took a deep breath.  “Let’s see what they do.”

Minutes passed.  “They’re taking their time about their decision,” Kai said.

“Hopefully I don’t look like some kind of monster from their mythology,” he replied.

“They’re moving again.  The group is splitting up into two – most are moving away.  But five are headed back towards the bridge.”

“It’s time to say hello,” he said.

The first to raise its head out was one of the previous two.  It regarded him calmly, at least as far as he could tell.  It was far too soon to have a real bead on their emotional reactions.

More heads appeared.  He saw the other from earlier, and from its darker color he began to surmise that it might be younger.

The newcomers all seemed to have more pale fur, even some wrinkles visible underneath.

They all watched him, and he watched them back, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible.

Sweat ran down his brow into his eyes.  He blinked and reached up without a thought to wipe it.

The group seemed to find that alarming, two ducking out of sight.

Then all of them disappeared.  He cursed his possible mistake, but a moment later one stepped out, coming to the end of the bridge.

It was the older of the two scouts.  It climbed up on the log, staring straight down at him.

“Ik pe! ok scri! nya!” it cried, raising its arm.  It held a spear in it.

His system whirred into action, but it could not find an adequate translation.

The body language was unmistakably a challenge, however.

Brooks slowly held out both of his hands in front of himself, palms-up.  He was unarmed.

An older one came out, yelling at the first.  The first one looked back at him and argued, seeming like it was about to jump down and retreat.

But it stopped at the last moment, making a motion that Brooks’s system could translate; it was a refusal.

“Give me your best guess at what they are saying,” he said to his system.

“The second elder adult is telling the younger adult to leave the log.  The younger adult is refusing,” his system told him.

Not much more than he already knew.

The younger one also came out, jumping up onto the log easily.  It regarded Brooks differently than the other.

“It is curious,” his system told him.

The one on the ground ordered that one to come back.  It obeyed, but then the one still on the log said something that seemed to upset both on the ground.

An argument broke out, and Brooks was concerned about tempers flaring more.  He leaned forward, moving to a kneeling position.

All their eyes came back to him.

He held up his hands again, showing that they were empty.

“Do !Xomyi use a similar gesture for one to come towards them?” he asked his system.

It whirred.  “Such gestures with similar meanings have been observed.”

He waved them closer.

The young one came back up on the log, taking a few tentative steps forward.  This time the elder did not object.

The older adult moved past it, coming yet closer.  It kept its eyes on him the whole time, moving tentatively, feeling for footing.  It still held its spear, and when Brooks shifted it stopped, hefting it again.

After a few moments of stillness, it regained its bravery and started forward once more.

Behind it, others stepped out, all of them coming up onto the bridge except for the elder, who simply watched.  Its eyes were closed to slits against the light.

The bravest one came forward until it was only five meters away.

It was sizing him up, noticing that he was bigger than it was.

Brooks estimated it to be almost 40 kilograms and on the taller side for their kind.

It had some clothes on; some kind of skirt woven from grass in a checkerboard pattern.  Holes had been punched in its wing membranes, and feathers were hung from some, seashells from others.

Did they go to the seashore to get the shells, he wondered.  Or did they trade for them?

The thought vanished as it stepped closer.

It spoke, and his system came through with a translation.  “Who are you?”

“I am Brooks,” he said.  His mask turned his words into their best approximation of the tongue of the !A!amo.

The brave one stepped back slightly, shocked at his voice.

“Where did you come from?” it then asked.  “Did you come from . . .”  The last word was lost.

His system struggled.  It could not translate the word precisely.

“The word is cognate with both the spiritual realm and the sky based on context,” his system told him.

He considered how to answer.

“Yes,” he said, deciding that it was not truly a lie.  He had come from the sky.

He pointed a finger up.

The !Xomyi followed his direction of pointing, gazing skyward before snapping back onto him, startled at having taken its eyes off.  It raised its spear again, as if to guard against Brooks springing forward in its moment of distraction.

Brooks did not move.  At this range, it very well might put the spear through his head.

His mouth was dry.  The !Xomyi hesitated, shifting its grip on its spear, still holding it up.  Its eyes were fully, startlingly open, staring at him.

It stepped closer.  A few feet at a time, it came up to him.

Brooks leaned out slowly, holding out his hand, causing it to stop and threaten with its spear again.  Brooks froze.

Then it began forward again.  The spear lowered.

It reached out with its free hand towards his.

He stretched forward.  The brave one did the same.

It touched his hand.

For a moment, he could feel the rough skin of its fingers on his, then it pulled its hand back, hefting the spear again, fear across its face.

It could kill him in a heartbeat.  He knew that, behind him, Kai had her rifle ready.

But it did not attack.

It stepped back, moving rapidly towards the others, stopping every few feet to look back at him, as if to reassure itself that he was still there and not attacking or following it.

Others had come closer now, almost halfway across the bridge.  The brave one spoke to them rapidly, the group listening to him with rapt attention.

Then the youngest of them started forward.  The elder talked to it again, trying to call it back.  But it refused, and walked towards Brooks.

Unlike the last one, it did not seem so afraid.  There was apprehension, yes, but not the same fear.

The first touch had not resulted in harm, he thought it might be thinking, so what was the danger?

It came up to him, reaching up.

He thought it was reaching for his hair for a moment, but instead it took the leaf that he had stuck onto his back, pulling it up to look at his head.

“It is not a-” the last word could not be translated.

“Suspected to refer to a supernatural entity,” his system told him.

“It has some fur,” it added.  “But there is no disease on its skin!”

“My people do not have fur like yours,” he said carefully.

The young one looked back to him quickly, its mouth opening and closing rapidly.

“A sign of amusement,” his system told him.  “But also of potential aggression.”

“Do you really come from the sky?” it asked him.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Are you a troublesome spirit or a friendly spirit?”

“I am just a being,” he told it.  “But I am a friend.”

It did not seem to know what to make of that.  But it came closer, reaching up to touch first his cheeks, then his chin.

The rest of the group seemed to have lost their fear – or at least their curiosity had overpowered it.

Only the elder hung back as the other three came up to him.  They all reached out, touching his arms and shoulders, his face.

One grabbed his cheek painfully, and he winced, pulling back a little.  It seemed to want to do it again, but he held up a hand.

“I am a friend,” he told it firmly.

It shrugged and sat back, just watching.

He reached out and touched them, trying not to seem aggressive.  They seemed to accept as he touched their heads and arms.

Up close, he could see that they all had fine tattoos on their wing membranes.  Each had its own unique set, the youngest having the least.

Perhaps they told of their life deeds or family history, he could not know yet.

“What is your name?” he asked the one that had approached him first.

It sat back on its haunches.  His question did not seem to have translated well.

“What do I call you?” he asked.

“Brave Hunter,” it told him.

“Brave, shaking like a leaf!” the young one said, opening and closing its mouth rapidly.

The others seemed to find it annoying and waved it away, but it apologized.

“What do I call you?” he asked the young one.

“Annoying,” one of the others said.  They all started doing their laugh again, even the young one.

“Tracker,” it told him.  “I find hamomo.  I find-” it used the word again that meant both sky and spirits.

“Is!u,” Brooks repeated.

“Yes,” Tracker said.  “I find is!u!”  It pointed to him.

Brave Hunter waved dismissively.  “Too full of yourself.  We both found it.”

The other two named themselves to him as Old Hunter and Good Hunter.

They still seemed reserved about him, though their curiosity had been sated for the moment.

“And the one back there?”

“Knows the World,” Tracker said.

“He sounds wise,” Brooks said.

Tracker laughed.  “He knows the world!” he replied.

Brooks tried to emulate their laugh, and that seemed to amuse them more.

But Brooks noticed that Knows the World did not approach.

“I would like to give you gifts,” Brooks said.  “I would like to be your friend.”

He carefully took out his bag.  Tension had returned to them, but as he set the bag down it turned to curiosity.  They poked at the bag, which was bright white with a blue stripe on it.

“Strange hide,” one said.

He opened it, taking out some of the gifts he had brought for them.

They were strips of meat, created on the ship to match their dietary needs.  In it were berry-like pieces.

He offered them.  Brave Hunter took one immediately, but looked back to Knows the World, as if asking for permission.

Knows the World had no reaction at all.

It was solely on him, Brooks thought.  They did not appear to have a well-defined concept of leader – only ones who were wise and worth listening to.

Without any guidance, Brave Hunter apparently wanted to live up to his name.  After sniffing the food, he took a small bite.

And he apparently liked what he tasted, because he then took a much larger bite.

The others watched him eat for a moment, then began to eat their own.

“Please, can you give this to Knows the World?” he asked Tracker, offering another piece.

Tracker took it, and went towards the elder.

The elder took it, but only held it, never taking its eyes off of Brooks.

It then made a sound; it was a single word, but his translator told him.

“I am leaving.”

As it went, the others seemed to lose their nerve.  They glanced after him and back at Brooks.

“Please take more,” he said, offering the open box.

Tracker came back and took another piece, but the others did not.  They all turned, going back across the bridge.

At the far side, Tracker stopped to look back at him.  Brave Hunter then put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him towards the jungle.

Brooks felt himself wanting to slump down in exhaustion.  But they might still be watching.

“Not bad, Captain,” Kai said over the radio.

“I think,” he replied, “that went well.”

---

< Ep 12 part 15 | Ep 12 part 17 >

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

---

The downdraft of the flying craft’s engines faded as it lifted back into the sky.  It would guide itself home without a pilot, and Brooks turned away to survey their new environment.

After taking a crawler to shore, they had entered the jungle.  The Pillar Trees facing the winds were remarkably strong, with deep roots acting as anchors.

Only once they had gotten in among those Pillar Trees, whose great bulk blocked the ocean winds, had it been safe to board a flying craft.

Now, he scanned the open area they’d landed in.  It was a good place to make their initial camp.

The grass was high, but already a group of drones were scything it down.  Several Pillar Trees had come down here, creating the clearing.

Smells assaulted his nose; already he was feeling his nasal passages start to itch in reaction to the strange cocktail invading them, despite the mask.  He hoped that Y’s implants would be sufficient.

The humidity, too, was oppressive.  Without the ocean winds to keep the air clear, it was nearly saturated.

He’d been on jungle worlds before, though never one as hostile as this.  Already their scanner drones were noting the presence of megafauna nearby, though none of them seemed predatory or hostile.

Kai had already brought out her big-game rifle all the same.

Unlike him, she had a partial helmet on, covering her eyes, mouth, and nose.

“Seventy Days, start,” Brooks said aloud.  A timer appeared in his HUD, counting down.

He looked to Kai.

“I’m going to check out the local lay of the land,” she said.  “Do you want to get the camp up and running?”

“I’ll let the drones do that,” Brooks said.  “I want to come with you.”

Kai paused.  She wanted to order him, but she knew he’d not back down.  “All right,” she said.  “Stay close.”

The grass was stiffer than the kind he’d met before.  It took some effort to push through it.  Down by their feet, creatures ran, as big as his hand or even a little larger.

The higher oxygen levels in the atmosphere meant larger lifeforms in general, he knew.  Hopefully nothing with big jaws, he thought.

He suddenly was glad he wasn’t wearing the mocassins.  He couldn’t imagine anything small with enough bite force to cut through his space boots, but that didn’t mean it’d be fun to get something biting onto them all the same.

He could hear the river before he saw it; the roar of rushing water against rocks.

This would be a formidable barrier to beings on foot.

It was almost fifteen meters wide here; far too wide for even young !Xomyi to attempt to glide across.  Their options for getting over would be limited.

“Look for a crossing,” he told Kai.

She dispatched a few drones.  “It seems to dive down off to the West, the ground drops down into some kind of fissure.  We could potentially climb down if you need to get on the other side.”

“Does it run near our camp?” he asked.

“Yeah, fairly close.  Do you want to move?”

“No, but I think we know why the pillar trees came down, now.  The fissure must have exposed their roots, and then the wind was able to take them down.”

He crouched, looking across the water.

“Have the drones go upstream.  I’m not trying to find our way across – I’m trying to find where the !Xomyi will go.”

It did not take long.  “Drones are spying a tree that’s fallen across the river.  Looks like it could be used as a bridge.”

“Take me there,” he told her.

It was too dangerous to walk close to the banks; the river here was rapid, and the plant life pressed right up to the edges.

Which had been the downfall of this Pillar Tree, he saw.  The river had cut towards it, and as it had eroded the soil away from its roots, the tree had toppled.

The bridge it formed seemed solid, and it was wide enough that even he might feel safe crossing it.

It was perfect.

Climbing up on the trunk, he squatted down, peering across.

There were no animals visible, but many creatures were calling to each other.  His system did not believe any of them to be !Xomyi, but it could be wrong.

They could be watching right now.

“We have drone spies out here, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Kai replied.

“Check their logs.  I want to know what the !A!amo have been doing since we got here.”

The data came up in his HUD.  Since the researchers had started observations of this group, just under a month ago, they’d had tiny, almost dust-like drones in their camp.  Each one provided only a tiny bit of data, but when there were enough of them, a more complete picture could be formed.

Every member of the group had gotten a surreptitious dusting, allowing them all to be tracked.

All twenty-six known members of the group were accounted for.  But two of them had been away from the others earlier.  Foraging, perhaps, or hunting for small game.

But then something had spooked them.  They’d stopped, looked up, and then gone back to their group in a hurry.

The time stamp matched perfectly with he and Kai’s flight overhead.

So they’d been seen on the way in.  It wasn’t what he would have hoped for, but he could work with it.

Their computers predicted that the !A!amo would want to cross the river and move further South at this time of year.

So this is where they would have to cross.

“We’re going to wait here,” he told Kai.  “Prepare for first contact.”

---

< Ep 12 part 10 | Ep 12 part 12 >

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

---

“I’ve left you a set of guidelines on running the ship,” Brooks said to Jaya through the glass wall separating them.

He tightened the laces on his shoes.  They were not a normal ship boot, but cloned-leather shoes in an ancient style.  They were soft, flexible, a design which the Ambassador-General had recommended for down on the surface.

“I understand,” Jaya said stiffly through the speaker on the glass wall.  “I shall do my best to meet your expectations.”

“You’ll do fine,” Brooks said, lifting his foot.  “I have no doubts about that.  And the guidelines are just because regulations say I must.  You already know how to run the ship, Jaya.”

She was quiet a moment, then nodded.

Putting his foot down, he studied her.  She had been acting differently for some time now.  They always respected each other, but she had been more formal since they had faced the Greggan pirates.

“Do you have any questions?” he asked.

“No,” she replied.  “I feel confident.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” he said, standing.  “You’re finally getting your own command.”

Jaya did not smile, she just nodded.  “Only temporarily, Captain.”

“Over two months,” he said.  “No small amount of time.  I would not be surprised if you get offers for your own captaincy after this.”

He expected some excitement in her; while Jaya always kept her emotions close, he did not expect she’d try or be able to hide that.

But she had little reaction, just a nod.

His system reminded him of his schedule, and he stood up, squaring his shoulders.

“Commander Jaya Yaepanaya, I formally transfer to you the rank of Acting-Captain.”

She held up her hand.  “I swear on my life to uphold the values of the Union, to protect the ship, and to perform my duties to the best of my ability.”

He nodded, then saluted her.  She returned it, and he wished for a moment he could offer her his hand.  The glass prevented it, so all he could say was: “Congratulations, Jaya.”

She nodded again.  “Thank you.  I am surprised they are not bringing someone out to take the position.  It would make the most sense.  We are a very famous ship.”

“Maybe they would have if we’d been closer to the Union.  But it would take a few weeks to get someone out here, and they know you can handle it.”

She quirked her head.  “Why are they so confident in me?”

“My reports,” Brooks told her.

Surprise went over her face for a moment.  “Thank you, Cap-”  She stopped.  “Thank you, Ian.”

“I only told them the truth, you’re the one who has put in the effort.”

He sat down and then raised his foot again.  “What do you think of these?  I don’t mean to seem flippant, it’s a serious question.”

“While they are interesting, I suspect you will regret the choice once down there,” she replied, frowning.  “The surface might be quite hard on your feet without a good solid boot.”

He looked at them.  “You may be right.  I’ll try them out, but I’ll take some real boots just in case.  Feel free to change things up in the Captain’s office, if you like.  I’ve got a boring style, and it’s been stagnant for a while.”

Jaya nodded, but said nothing to that.  “I wish you success on your mission.”

“Thank you.  It is a privilege to be going down there.  I . . .  I admit that I have an excitement over this opportunity.  To be involved in First Contact is the kind of thing most of us always dreamed of.  I wish the situation was not so dire for them.  And I’m sorry you’ll be stuck up here.”

Jaya did smile now, just slightly.  “It is a popular dream – but fortunately for me, it is not one I hold.”

---

< Ep 12 part 5 | Ep 12 part 7 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here!

---

Captain’s Log:

The Craton has been rerouted from a political event on Lincoln 5 by an emergency request from the Diplomatic Corps.  We have been temporarily put under their command and ordered to a distant system whose host star is called Bror.  The third planet from that star is known to be a garden world, much like Earth, but that is all I know of it.

The nature of the emergency has not been explained yet; the message from command was brief, and I was told only that time was of the essence.

Once in-system, we will be meeting with Ambassador-General Callirrhoe Abashidze, who is commanding the operation.

I have a suspicion that gives me great interest in this assignment – the suspicion that there is intelligent life upon Bror 3.

I have never been involved in a first contact before and I hope that I will have the chance here.  They are among the most difficult and dangerous of all encounters one might have in space exploration, and one whose ethical boundaries are still not fully explored.  One’s actions could easily put them into history as the one who brought friendship between two species – or as someone who poisoned such relations, perhaps for millenia.

Well, now that I’ve thought about it, perhaps I should hope not for such a weight on my shoulders.

---

“We have surfaced in realspace,” Ji-min Bin called.  “We are in the Bror system.”

External visuals appeared and the command deck crew were greeted to a startling sight.

They had surfaced near the third planet of the system; the garden world of Bror 3.

It was a lovely world; they saw at the moment vast oceans and some land near the equator, hidden behind clouds.

But what was more startling was the glow around the planet.

“What’s causing that?” Brooks asked.

“It is dust, Captain,” Cenz answered.  “The planet has an immense amount of debris around it.  The vast majority appears to be extremely fine material not exceeding 100 microns in size.  They are shedding energy into heat as they fall towards Ko, however, and that – along with the reflection of light from the system’s star – is the source of the glow.”

Brooks sat back.  “What’s the cause of the dust?” he asked.

“Captain,” Urle said.  “Look at that small moon.”

It was just coming out from behind the planet, rising into the light along with the dawn of the world.

The sliver had just barely been visible, but the Craton‘s computer system lightened up the body, bringing it into full view.

It was far smaller than Luna, but it was not tiny, either, at several hundred kilometers across.  And it was far, far closer than Luna was to Earth.

It was falling into its parent world.  Everyone on the deck who knew anything about bodies in space could see it.

It would not be a single, cataclysmic impact; no, there would be many.

For every natural object in space orbiting a larger object, there was a boundary, known as the Roche Limit.  If the smaller body strayed within that limit, the parent body’s gravity would tear it apart.

Once that happened to the moon – as it had arguably already begun, with the dust – its pieces would continue to spiral in closer, eventually shedding so much energy that the atmosphere itself would burn.  Long before the moon was gone, all life would be dead.

“The planet itself is 15,000 kilometers in diameter,” Urle commented.  “That moon is barely even that far from it. . .”

“What’s the exact distance from planet?” Brooks asked.  The bridge was otherwise silent.

“The moon is . . . 10,447 kilometers from the planet’s surface,” Cenz replied softly.  “That is . . . it is just on the Roche Limit, Captain.  That moon will break up in . . .”  He went silent.

Turning in his seat, he seemed to struggle for words for a moment.  “I will have to get back to you on the calculations, Sir,” he said.

“Captain,” Eboh called.  “We are being messaged.  It is the Diplomatic cruiser, Entente.”

“Take it,” Brooks said.

An image appeared in a box on the main screen, of Ambassador-General Callirrhoe Abashidze.

There were signs of stress on her face, along with exhaustion, but her eyes were sharp.

“Captain,” she said.  “It is good you have arrived.”

“Thank you, Ambassador,” Brooks replied.  “We are here to help.  But I have to say – I’m not sure if we can stop a moon.”

“I see you’ve noticed the situation,” Abashidze said, smiling wanly.  “Fortunately, I am not expecting you to deal with the moon – though, believe me, we have considered that possibility.  There are, unfortunately, too many factors working against us.”

“I would imagine that building a zerodrive onto a moon that large would simply take too long,” Cenz said.

Brooks gestured.  “This is Commander Cenz, my Science officer.  He is a veteran of multiple terraformings and the relocation of the Dwarf Planet Xohhes.”

Abashidze looked to Cenz.  “You are correct Commander, we have done assessments and we lack the time.  There’s so much loose debris around the moon that we’d lose too many shuttles going in and out.  If you have any other thoughts, however, I would like to hear them.”

“How long do we have?” Brooks asked.

Cenz turned so his screen was facing both Brooks and the Ambassador-General.  “I have finished my calculations, Captain.  We have approximately seventy-three days.”

The Ambassador seemed amused.  “You are in agreement with the science division.  It took them nearly two days to make that estimation, however.”

“Cenz is good with numbers,” Brooks said.

“So you see the problem and our time frame,” Abashidze continued.  “But there is something that makes this problem much more complex.”

“Which is?” Brooks asked.

“We will speak in person, Captain,” she replied.  “I am on my shuttle already, and will launch momentarily.  I will be there in approximately forty minutes.”

Brooks nodded.  “I look forward to it.”

The call ended, and he looked to the command officers.

“Opinions?” he asked.

“I suspect we are on a cataloguing expedition,” Cenz said.  “If Bror 3 has a complex ecosystem – which it certainly does, given these atmospheric readings – then it is Union doctrine to catalogue the species.  With the time crunch, I expect our focus will be on capturing genetic information.  We may be able to restore this world’s biosphere one day.”

“That would usually be under a Science command,” Urle said.  “Not the Diplomatic Corps.”

“Normally this is the case, yes,” Cenz replied.  “But the Diplomatic Corps at times takes command of these, just in case a native sapient species is encountered.  As well, the Bror system is outside of the Sapient Union in Unclaimed Space.  If another government’s ships arrive, diplomacy will be vital.”

“But then why be so secretive?” Jaya asked.

“Doomed worlds attract vultures,” Brooks replied.  “We may simply be running security in case smugglers come to take samples for sale at Gohhi.  Many of the rich collectors there will pay huge amounts for the last of a species, especially if it’s a large predator.”

“I suspect,” Y said, “That they have discovered a sapient species.”

A silence fell; they had all been thinking of the possibility.

“Respectfully, that seems unlikely,” Urle replied, picking his words carefully.  “As exciting as it is to consider, intelligent life is just so rare.  There are just over a dozen species in the Sapient Union and we believe it to be an unusual density for reasons we poorly understand.  Besides, there are no cities or geographical alterations we can see – if they’re down there, they’re staying pretty quiet.”

“Not all species are technologically advanced,” Brooks noted.  “We only have been smelting metals for eight thousand years, after all.  All of humanity’s time before that was living as simple bands of hunter-gatherers.”

“And that is precisely what I think has been discovered down there,” Y said.

Silence fell again, and Brooks stood.  “Urle, Y – you’re both with me.  Let’s get ready to greet the Ambassador-General.  Jaya, you have command.”

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