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

---

Zachariah Urle felt reassured in the knowledge that he’d done everything he could possibly do to prepare.

Yet as the officers of the Craton arrived and took their positions, he felt an unexpected tightness in his stomach.

He went back over his checklist.  For a Star Angel the necessary actions were many and intensive, but they hadn’t forgotten anything.

And he was not nervous about being in command for this.  It was far from the first time he’d had to arrange a formal welcoming for a dignitary, and from all accounts Star Angels seemed incredibly hard to upset or insult.

A message popped up in his HUD, and he saw it was from Hannah and Persis.  They were still ten minutes from the ambassadorial shuttle’s landing, and he brought it up.

An animation of him shaking hands with a giant glowing, angel-like being appeared, followed by cartoony, smiling faces of his girls.

“Good luck, Captain-Dad!” they said together.

He couldn’t help but smile as he tucked the message away and backed it up.

But his stomach felt worse now, all the same.

He’d always wanted to be the captain of a star ship.  It had been one of his many dreams that he was determined to make come true.

And part of him was excited that it was his chance.

He’d been overlooked before – many times.  He occupied a strange position where he had not wanted to leave the Craton – or stop working with Ian Brooks – and it had cost him career advancement.

Perhaps he felt guilt.

Most of all, though, he’d never wanted it to be like this.  To have his advancement come at his closest friend’s cost.

He shook his head.  Why did he even keep thinking this way?  This pervasive sense of doom about Brooks, that he was truly going to be stripped of his command.

He had to shake the idea, and focus on the moment.

Every officer was in position, standing starkly at attention.  His scanners picked up no sign of anyone being ill, but tension still seemed high.

The shuttle carrying the new ambassador was preparing to dock, and the stray thought that the Craton really should have its own ambassadorial staff ran through his mind again.  If the Diplomatic Corps wasn’t so busy elsewhere, perhaps they would . . .

“Attention!  Docking procedures completed.  Coupling is now initiating.  All personnel, wait for the all-clear to open vacuum hatches.”

Then, a moment later; “Pressure established.  Shuttle Hatch Doors opening now.”

Urle snapped to attention, every other officer following suit.

The shuttle doors opened, and two men and a Sepht in diplomatic corp uniforms came out gravely.  Between them, carried by drones, was a casket.

For a moment his system identified it as a coffin, sized for a baby.  His heart rate jumped, but then his system corrected and noted it as being a Faraday cage.

“Greetings, Captain,” the oldest of the diplomats said.  “I am here speaking on behalf of the Ambassador.”

“Greetings, Ambassador,” Urle said, knowing that in such cases he should address the man as if he was the ambassador.

“The Ambassador expresses its pleasure at being on your vessel, and hopes that you and it will get along in peace and equanimity,” the Ambassador replied.

Urle imagined that the man was somehow communicating to the Ambassador within the casket, but he didn’t actually know.

“You have my deepest thanks, Ambassador, and I hope for the same.”

The man nodded.  “With your permission, Captain, the Ambassador would like to move proceedings to Fusion Reactor Seven, so that it can greet you more directly.”

“Of course,” Urle said.  “Follow me.”

Dismissing most of the officers, Urle led them out of the hangar.

They travelled down through halls and lifts, but it did not take long to reach Reactor Seven.

The reactor personnel were prepared, and snapped to attention as they entered.

“The Ambassador would like them to be comfortable,” the man said.  Urle could see now that he had some kind of device in his ear.  Bulkier than any normal communication device, but probably scratch-made just for communicating with the Star Angels.

Urle had the techs connect the casket to the fusion reactor.  They’d already prepared systems that would allow the Star Angel to transfer into it without trouble.  It had been developed and tested before, outside of their ship, but to Urle, this was still the most dangerous step.

“Successful transfer,” the older man said.  “We should give the Ambassador several minutes to become acquainted.  It will inform us when it is ready to speak again.”

Urle nodded, and the other man grinned suddenly.  “I can’t tell you how excited I am, Captain Urle.”

“I am as well,” he said, not feeling it as much as he said.  Yet, he was excited.  The Star Angel was an entirely new form of life, and now it would be partners with them, joining them in their travels of the cosmos.

It was hard not to be moved by that.

The ambassador shook his hand.  “William Prince.  I was lead on the project to decipher and understand the Star Angel language.”

“That must have been extremely challenging.”

The man nodded.  “I admit – it was.  Everything about them defies our theories of life itself.  We’re going to have to re-define a lot of terms!  Star Angels have no concept of food, ecosystem, or matter, for instance.  Yet they are highly intelligent and emotional beings – how this came about in their plasma environment seems to be just an incredible stroke of fortune.”

He shook his head and laughed, at the absurdity of how much stranger reality could be than fiction.

“It helped greatly that they are the most patient and good-natured beings I have ever met.  I have yet to find one be anything close to cross or angry.  Far more patient than I am.”

He looked to the fusion generator.  “Yet it was worth it.”

He stiffened suddenly.  “Ah, the Ambassador is ready to speak to you.  Can you jack into my system?”

Urle did so with a thought, and scanned the special software the man had in his ear piece.  It was a complex translation package, as advanced as any he’d seen.  It did not simply convert words, but very carefully attempted to parse feelings between beings as disparate as flesh and plasma.  To convey at least some sense of the feeling behind it.  Prince had even gone so far as to come up with a way of transposing the specific frequencies of Star Angel speech into something approaching human sounds – to approximate, as much as was possible, the radio waves into a voice.

He heard a very pleasant woman’s voice in his ears.

“Greetings, Captain,” it said.  “Thank you for allowing me aboard your vessel!”

“It was my honor,” Urle replied.  “Are you comfortable?”

“Oh, yes – I know you must have gone through much trouble to prepare this, but it seems to be working quite well.  It is more comfortable than the box, for sure!”

Prince spoke.  “Ambassador, you had mentioned  picking a name for us to call you once you settled in.  Perhaps now might be an auspicious time?”

There was a pause.  “Perhaps soon,” the Star Angel told him.  “For now you may keep calling me Shine.”

“It is a play on sunshine,” Prince said to Urle.  He was surprised that the man said it so plainly in front of the Ambassador, but reminded himself that the Star Angels seemed to be near uninsultable.

“Yes,” the Ambassador agreed.  “But it is not my name.  Soon I will have one!”

“At your leisure, Ambassador,” Urle said, offering a bow, though he was unsure if the being saw outside of the reactor yet.

A laugh that was melodic and beautiful came from the being.  “You are so kind, Captain.  I am really quite glad we are getting to meet.  Let us talk again soon – I hope I am not being rude, but I would like some time to grow acquainted with the insides of your reactor.”

“Of course, Ambassador.  I will be only a call away,” Urle replied, bowing again.

---

< Ep 4 Part 14 | Ep 4 Part 16 >

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

---

“Prepare for dash entry,” the pilot called over the comm.  “ETA to Luna is 38 hours.”

“I hate these,” Apollonia said.  “The rattling makes me queasy after awhile.”

“The dashgates in Sol are very well maintained,” Brooks assured her.  “It won’t be bad.”

They entered the gate, and Apollonia found herself holding her breath.  The entry and exit had usually been the worst, that feeling of falling with rattling and shaking . . . when it came to pain she felt she was rather brave.  But she’d rather get poked with a needle in the eye than have that plummeting feeling.

But Brooks was right; the sensation was markedly lesser than any dash she’d ever taken (which, granted, had not been many).

Letting out her breath, she relaxed as they began to cruise.

“Okay, you were right . . . Ian.”  She hesitated using his name, it still seemed odd to her.

He seemed lost in thought, and she glanced over to him.  His eyes were glazed, staring into space tiredly.

“So you’re from Earth, huh?  Antarctica?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“What’s it like?”

“Cold, but the glaciers and permafrost are gone, have been since the 22nd century.  At least where I was.”  He paused.  “It was nice.”

“Was?  Has it changed much since your childhood?”

He smiled sadly.  “You could say that.”  But he did not elaborate.

They both grew silent, lost in thought.

She realized she did not know anything about Brooks; he was an absolute enigma.  Besides the fact that he was captain of the Craton – which he technically even wasn’t, right now.

“How long have you been a Captain?” she asked him.

“Nine years, all told,” Brooks replied.  “Three of them in the Trade Fleet, prior to joining the Voidfleet, and six after joining.”

A lot of that surprised her.  “You’re from Earth, but you didn’t go straight into the Voidfleet?  I thought only people on the fringes joined the Trade Fleet.”

“It’s not a rule,” Brooks replied.  “Though it might generally be true.  But yes, I spent time on the fringes of human-controlled space, worked my way through the merchant fleet, then later joined the Voidfleet Academy.”

“So how long did it take you to go from captain of a Trade Fleet ship to Captain of an SU ship?”

He smiled.  “Do you hope to become a captain, Apollonia?  I could see you attaining that.”

“Maybe,” she replied, smiling a little, feeling somewhat pleased at the compliment.  “Got to keep my career prospects open, right?”

“Indeed,” Brooks replied.  “But to answer your question – I served 18 years in the Voidfleet before becoming Captain of my first ship.”

The surprised showed on her face, and he smiled lightly again and said laconically;  “Sometimes things don’t come to us as quickly as we hope.”

She nodded, and looked away, wondering if she had just been rude.  Eighteen years, though!  She’d always heard it took just ten years to become a captain.  It had been the dream of every child to become the Captain of a starship, when she’d been growing up.  So why had it taken Brooks so long?  It didn’t seem to add up.

“I’m going to take a rest,” Brooks said, reclining his seat back into a full bed.  The lights in the cabin dimmed automatically, and she reclined as well, though not fully prone.

Brooks fell asleep quickly, and while she did wish to rest, she did not mean to fall asleep.  But then she found herself suddenly groping her way back to consciousness.

“Hello?” she murmured, sensing more than seeing the presence above her.

Opening her eyes and blinking against the lights that were still dimmed but seemed horribly bright, her heart jumped as she realized that nothing stood above her.

Yet she felt the presence.  She felt the malevolence.  She felt the will.

Her voice turned hard, almost not her own.

“You don’t belong here,” she said, a quiet power in her voice.  It was like some other force spoke through her.  Part of her but also not.

The presence observed, regarding her in a way she might regard a disgusting parasite.

“Leave,” she ordered.

Her eyes were dragged over to the side, to Brooks.  The man was sleeping, but fitfully, moving as if in a nightmare.

There was a connection there.  Something important, something vast and terrible and great and entirely beyond her understanding, she knew she had to warn him, but then-

She was being shaken awake.

“Apollonia, are you all right?”

It was Brooks.

She blinked, pushing his hand away from her shoulder absently.

The dim lights were not blinding now.  She looked about, but saw no one, felt no presence, besides Brooks next to her.

“Where are we?” she mumbled.

“Still en route to Earth,” he told her.  “Are you all right?  You seemed disturbed in your sleep.  Your heart was racing almost dangerously.”

She looked around, but the dream, the feelings, had faded to the point she was already forgetting them.  Her heart was pounding in her chest, but it was calming rapidly, and with it she began to feel calmer.

“I’m fine,” she said, yawning.  A sense of foreboding filled her, still, but she did not know why.

“I’m sorry to have woken you.  You just seemed very upset.”

“Yeah, just a weird dream,” she said.  A slinking thread of memory found its way into her consciousness.  “What about you?  Any weird dreams?”

“No,” he replied.  “I don’t remember dreaming anything.”

A drone brought them some fruit drinks, a yellowish-orange drink that she’d never had before.

Orange juice, it told her.  So this was the juice of an orange?  She’d had candies that claimed that flavor.  They’d tasted nothing like the actual juice.

“So when we get to Earth, what do we do?” she asked.

“We don’t go directly to Earth,” Brooks told her.  “The hearing will be on Korolev Station, in orbit around Luna.  That is the capital of the Sol System, and most of humanity.”

Her sadness showed, because he smiled reassuringly.  “Don’t worry, it’s literally fifteen minutes to Earth by dashgate.”

“Oh, good.  For a moment I thought I’d miss my chance . . .”  She stretched, and flopped back in her seat.  “I’ve always wanted to see the homeworld.  I honestly never thought I’d get the chance.”

His brow furrowed as he looked at her.  “Do you know anything about Earth’s recent history?” he asked seriously.

“Well . . . no,” she admitted.  “I didn’t watch our crappy local news, it was pretty much constant lies about how great things were.  And I didn’t chat with many people or have a system . . .” She perked up.  “But I did watch a lot of documentaries when I was younger.  Ones about the forests and the oceans and the animals and plants in them.  I always wanted to see one of those giant flowers, the ones that smell like rotting meat?”

She stopped and took a deep breath and grinned.

Brooks was silent, looking at her with concern, and her smile started to fade.

“What is it?  Don’t tell me that those shows were lies,” she asked.

“No, that’s not it.  Those things all exist – rafflesia flowers, forests and oceans full of life.  They’re maybe just not how you think they might be.”

Her heart felt like it was fluttering.

“Why?” she asked.

“Forty-five years ago, the orbital infrastructure around Earth collapsed,” Brooks said.  “In the most literal sense.  The Orbital Ring, the Space Elevators – all of them broke apart and crashed to the surface.”

He could see the alarm on Apollonia’s face, but also the confusion.  Brooks gestured to her tablet, and sent her an image of the Orbital Ring that encircled the Earth.

“This ring was around the Earth’s equator.  Elevators from the surface reached up to it, that were used to ferry people and supplies up or down.  But something happened, we-  We still don’t know what, or how.  But all of it came crashing down.”

He paused, letting her look over the images on-screen.  None showed the carnage, only the extent of infrastructure that had been placed in orbit.  It was extensive; millions of people had moved through the system daily.  To go from one side of the planet to another, there was literally no way easier or faster than to go up an elevator into orbit and then take a hypervelocity train.

But when it had broken up, all of it had become simply . . . debris.

“Billions died,” Brooks said soberly.  “And billions more were trapped.  The debris that didn’t fall remained in orbit or moved outward, creating a runaway kessler syndrome that we called the musk field – a scrapfield so dense in space that ships could not safely move through it.”

He took a deep breath.  “And the ecosystem – in many parts of the world it simply collapsed.  After the shocks of the climate catastrophe from centuries ago, there was one of the largest mass extinctions in the world’s history.

“But this was a second shock, only a few hundred years later.  The dust from all of the debris drowned out the sun.  Forest fires added to it.  The world’s average temperature dropped by nearly ten degrees.”

“So . . .” Apollonia finally said.  “It all died.”

“Most of it, yes,” Brooks said.  “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she replied.

She willed herself to hold back the tears.  To keep her face calm.

Brooks looked away, and she did not know if she wished he hadn’t, or if she appreciated him letting her save some face.

Because she was struggling to keep it under control.

All these years, she’d had one wish.  And now she had just learned she’d been a fool to want it.  That it was all . . . dead and gone.

A thought shot through her, and she looked up.

“You said you’re from Earth,” she said.  “Were you . . . there when it happened?”

Brooks looked over at her.  For just a moment she saw the same struggle she was going through playing over his face.  Hiding pain, and refusing to show it.

“Yes,” he replied.  “I lived through it.”

---

< Ep 4 Part 13 | Ep 4 Part 15 >

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

---

The shuttle was very small, Kell thought.

It would have been comfortable for a human, with soft things as they enjoyed, and metals smoothed until they reflected the light.

The pilot seemed to have little reaction to him; but then, he had shuttled Shoggoths before.  His presence was altered in that way.

“Welcome aboard, Ambassador.  We will be launching shortly, and once we’re through the dashgate it will be seventeen hours until we arrive.”

Kell gave him a nod, and sat in the seat.

“If you get hungry, there is a drone ready to serve you.  And if you’d like music or entertainment-“

“I would prefer silence,” Kell said, weary of the human game of politeness.

The man did not reply, but merely nodded, and turned to his work.

Kell studied him absently with part of his attention but let the rest drift.  Now was not really a time that was safe, but few were in a period of great change.  Nevertheless, he felt no apprehension.  Anything that might happen to him was entirely beyond his control, and the humans truly seemed to wish for his safety.

An odd but useful trait.

The shuttle launched, and he said nothing.  As far as the pilot could tell, he simply stared forward, never blinking, and never moving.  For the entire trip.

---

As the shuttle turned around and began its counter-burn to arrest its momentum, Pirra felt anxious.

Squirming in her seat, she felt annoyed with herself.  She didn’t feel this antsy even during a mission where there were serious consequences.

Alexander noticed her fidgeting, but said nothing, just putting his hand over hers.

She appreciated the gesture, but it didn’t help.

“Do you think Iago will be released from his quarantine in time to come see my folks?” Alexander asked.

Her commander was a long-time family friend of the Shaws, but him bringing it up – something he was probably doing to distract her from her nervousness – did not help.

Alexander did not know what Iago had gone through.  The mission, everything about it, was top secret.  And liable to remain that way.

She’d taken the time to check with some friends of hers.  She couldn’t actually find out what they had done about the monitoring station, but she knew what class of ships would be best at destroying it, as she had recommended.  As far as she could tell, no ship had been diverted.

It was possible they were being quiet about it, but she had a feeling that they were not going to destroy that place.

She still awoke each day, afraid she’d still be there.  After seeing the people there – or perhaps merely shades of people? – she had thought that maybe she, too, would open her eyes to find she had never escaped . . .

It was the worst thing about some of this shit.  You did not know if you were truly free of it.

“Pirra?” Alexander asked.

She blinked.  “Sorry, honey.  I . . . I wouldn’t bet on it.  I think Iago will be fine, but I don’t think he’s going to be out of isolation for a while.”

Her husband nodded, trying to hide his disappointment.  It would be nice to be able to tell him what had happened to his closest friend.  But she couldn’t say anything.  It was beyond just about keeping security – as Iago had learned, on some things, just the knowing itself could be dangerous.

The docking went smoothly, and she felt more relaxed.  No more sitting and waiting.

As they left the shuttle, she’d already identified their best path to catch their connecting flight.  They had two more stops and connections to make, and so far they were fortunately on time.

“This way,” she said.  Thankfully, Plucharon station was set up to take on the numbers the Craton was bringing.  Ten thousand people was really nothing; she’d counted at least seven hundred ships out there, and that had only been from a cursory scan.  Each of them could easily be unloading ten or twenty thousand people.  Mostly tourists – humans come on a pilgrimage to their homeworld.  Sometimes aliens, though – because humans were, she thought, pretty interesting.

She supposed she was pretty lucky.  She’d been born on the larger moon of her world, but her parents had moved back to the planet when she was young.  She knew the world her species had evolved upon well.  The vast majority of Dessei were not so lucky, and their population was almost triple that of humankind.

They arrived at their shuttle early, but boarding was already being allowed.

The inter-system shuttle was larger, too large to actually land in a shuttle bay, instead using a long umbilical with a carrier car in it.

Going aboard, they floated down the main hall.  Without gravity, any way could be up, and there were doors on walls and floors both.  While she preferred to be in gravity most of the time, at least the zero-g made the bags easier to carry, she thought.

Finding their compartment and floating in, she took her seat.  There were six, though no one else had arrived yet.

“Can you stow these?” she asked, pushing her bag towards Alexander.

“All right.  You okay?”

“Yeah, I just want to find the head,” she said, floating back out of the room.

It was not so much that as her own need to get a feel for the ship.  She was very antsy, and she could not strictly chalk it up to anything in particular beyond the fact that she, nor anyone she knew, was in command of this ship.

But there was almost no chance of an issue occurring in a heavily-populated system, she reminded herself for the thousandth time.

Almost.

Floating back to the compartment, she slid the door open and paused.

“Honey, it looks like we’re sharing the compartment with Dr. Logus,” Alexander said.

He seemed genuinely happy.  She was not so sure how she felt.

“Oh, hello Doctor,” she trilled.

“Lieutenant,” he replied politely.  The man looked rather distracted or bothered, himself.

She moved in to sit down next to Alexander.  “Do you have family in the system, sir?”

“Ah, you don’t need to call me sir.  I do have family in the system, it’s true.  But I’m not going to see them, I’m afraid.  This is . . . well, not work-related.  But it’s certainly no personal trip.”

Pirra wondered what that meant.

“What about you two?” Logus asked.

“We’re going to visit my family,” Alexander said.  “They’re Phobosans.”

“Ah, interesting.  I thought that moon had been abandoned,” Logus replied.

“It was, but my family and a few others decided to move into the place to form a kind of science commune,” Alexander replied.  “Fixed up the facilities with a grant from the Research Council and – well, that’s where I was born.”

“That’s quite interesting,” Logus said.  “I do recall reading about it, now that you mention it.  It would be interesting to meet your family some time.  You said the Research Council?  What is it that they’re researching?”

Alexander had seemed proud until that moment.  But now, he looked away, his face flushing ever so slightly.  “My father is interested in . . . applied plasma weaponry.”

“Weapons?  Oh, I see,” Logus said, hiding his surprise.  He noticed that Pirra was staring at him unblinking.  She was trying to keep her crest down, but it was bristling all the same.

If Logus had been so ill-mannered as to make a rude comment about such odd work, he could tell she’d launch into his defense.

She was a bit touchy, he decided.  Interesting.

“I can see why they would want to do such work on Phobos.  I had no idea, though, that plasma had real weaponizing potential.  Wasn’t most such research abandoned a century ago?”

“Yeah,” Alexander said.  He elaborated no further.

Logus let the topic drop.

“Well, if you two don’t mind, I think I’ll take a rest,” Logus said, smiling politely to them both.

He slid his privacy screen down around him, and closed his eyes.

Pirra and Alexander were silent.  The privacy screen would block most noises, but neither felt much like talking.

She knew Alexander hated talking about his father’s work.  However important it was to remain on the advanced edge of weapons technology in case of conflict, it was work that made most uncomfortable.  War and conflict were, after all, rarely good for anyone.

No one else joined their compartment.  An hour later, a voice came over their systems;

“Please prepare for dash entry.  ETA at Titan Station is 30 hours.”

Thirty hours to Titan Station in Saturn orbit, a two hour layover, six hours from there to Ceres with another hour layover, then just two more to Mars.

Then just getting their rental shuttle and seven more hours flying at sublight to reach Phobos.

Not short, but not bad for getting to a place as out-of-the-way as that moon.

She shifted in her seat.  She’d be happy once they were on that last leg of their journey.  Then, if anything went wrong, it’d at least be a proper emergency, instead of something as inane as a bureaucratic error . . .

---

< Ep 4 Part 12 | Ep 4 Part 14 >

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

---

With her tray piled high with food (and her tablet warning her about the caloric content being in far excess of what she should eat in a day), Apollonia finally made her way over to sit down at a nearby table.

There had been so many choices!

Each stall had information on the food, noting where on Earth it came from, what cultures ate it, when it had been invented.

She hadn’t imagined that people in different parts of Earth still ate different foods.  Wouldn’t all these centuries of limitless food, cheap travel, and no privation have led to everyone being pretty much the same in tastes?

She didn’t know what the truth was, but at least she could try their foods.

Looking over her prizes, she looked at her tablet for the names of them all; she had an orange spongy thing on a stick called a corn dog, apparently it had some kind of meat inside.  Fried potato sticks covered in brown gravy and white chunks called poutine, fried balls of chickpeas called falafel, a fish-shaped cake with sweet bean paste inside called taiyaki, a triangular slice of thin bread with cheese and tomato sauce on top (pizza), and pieces of fried plantain called kelewele.

And cabbage pudding.

The latter was apparently a newer invention, a creamy sweet dessert flavored with cabbage.  She had no idea what cabbage tasted like, but the color of it reminded her of the sweetened algae paste she’d once viewed as a treat.  It gave her a power trip to be able to just buy it like it was nothing.

She’d had to stop herself from continuing on, because she’d hit only about half the stalls, and the only one she had resisted had been ‘cotton candy’, which looked interesting but was apparently just pure sugar.

She could not possibly eat all of this, but she was at least going to taste it all.

Taking the corn dog, she bit off the end, surprised pleasantly to find that there was a sausage of some kind inside.

She decided to try the more savory items first – the poutine, then falafel, pizza, and fried plantains, which she was surprised to find were spicy.

“Dark!” she spat, taking a drink.  She’d heard of food that burned in your mouth, but she’d never had any.

“What troubles you?” she heard.

Her skin crawled.  The voice was toneless, lifeless, and the presence was suddenly there.

How Kell had snuck up on her she didn’t know, but she turned in her seat to look at the being, her face pulled in taut lines.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Ambassador,” she said shortly.  “Don’t you have your own flight to catch?”

“In a sense,” Kell replied.  “It will not leave without me.”

“So why not keep them waiting if you want?” she asked sarcastically.

Kell’s eyes had been on her food, but he glanced to her now, as if to communicate that yes, he knew she was being sarcastic.

“They will possess themselves with patience,” he replied, and moved to sit.

She almost snapped out that she hadn’t asked him to sit, but bit her tongue.  The damn thing was an Ambassador.

Even if she also felt he was a murderer.

It wasn’t just that it had killed Michal Denso, when she still thought there had been at least the possibility of a peaceful outcome, and not even that she had a very strong feeling that what he had done could have harmed her and Verena . . .

But he had killed something beyond them, a lifeform that she could not truly understand . . . something that had not even had a chance to live.

Was it accurate to call it infanticide if what you killed had been closer to a god than a person?

She heard footsteps behind them, and glanced back to see Brooks approaching.

“Ambassador,” he said politely.  “I did not expect to see you here.”

“I had a moment,” Kell replied, once more looking to the food.

Apollonia did not offer him any.  She picked up several fries in the poutine and ate them.

“I didn’t know you were so hungry, Ms. Nor,” Brooks said lightheartedly.

“Well, Dr. Y does want me to put on some weight,” she said after she swallowed.  “But really, I just wanted to try some things from Earth.  Please tell me these are real Earth foods.”

“Yes, they are,” he replied.  “I know most of them.”

He picked up one of the fish-shaped treats.  “We would eat taiyaki every sundown, for luck,” he said, tearing it in half and taking a bite.

It was sweeter than he remembered, probably made so on behalf of tourists.  But it wasn’t bad.

“Every night?” she asked.  “Just some kind of universal desert?”

“I grew up in Antarctica,” he clarified. “Sunset comes once a year – we made a festival of it.  I don’t know how taiyaki became so popular, but they became very symbolic of it for us.”

He ate another bite, and gestured to Kell.  “Ambassador, if you’d like some, please help yourself.”

Apollonia stiffened, and Brooks glanced to her and spoke again.  “We can’t eat all this ourselves.”

Kell said nothing, but reached over and picked up a falafel, putting it in his mouth.  He swallowed it immediately.

“How do you like it?” Brooks asked.

“It is food,” Kell simply said.

He rose.  “I am going.  Captain.  Apollonia Nor.”  Nodding to each of them, he turned and walked away.

“Good riddance,” Apollonia muttered.

Brooks caught that, but said nothing.

“We’ll have a shuttle here within the hour,” he told her.  “Let’s finish this up and then head over to our terminal.”

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< Ep 4 Part 11 | Ep 4 Part 13 >