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They’d been waiting in the Quarantine Scanning area for hours, Apollonia thought.  Her system said it had been over two since they’d gotten off Urle’s shuttle.

The docking itself had taken awhile, over half an hour, and she had been happy to disembark.

Brooks had dawdled, talking to Urle in a low voice, and she had moved away to give them privacy.

But she still glanced back, just out of curiosity.

The two men shook hands, and then Urle hugged Brooks.

She looked away again, feeling like she’d just seen something private.

Stepping away, she toed at the floor, noting how clean it was, and that for some reason that annoyed her.  Couldn’t anything be grimy in the Sapient Union?

Brooks walked up next to her.  “There’s a routine Quarantine Scan for anyone coming in from outside the system,” he said.  “It won’t take long.”

But it had taken long, she thought.  Two hours was long.  And her tablet was deactivated.  “It protects it from the scans,” Brooks had explained, but that hadn’t made it less boring.

A lot of time in her past had been spent just waiting for nothing.  She hated reliving it.

And even now, once they’d gotten out, Brooks told her;

“We’re going to have more of a wait.  “I received a message that there was an issue with our transport.”

“An issue?  Like it blew up or something?”

Brooks gave her a surprised and confused look, but she wasn’t sure why.

Transports had blown up rather often going between Vitriol and New Vitriol.  Sometimes it was even an accident.

“No, they didn’t tell me,” he said.  “But I’ll get it sorted out.”

He began walking, his long strides forcing her to hurry to keep up.

“Slow down a little!  When is our new flight?” she asked.

He measured his pace somewhat.  “Tomorrow,” he replied.

“Is there a place we can stay?” she asked.  “Like a hotel?”

Hopefully not the one the hookers all used, she thought.

“Yes, but we won’t have to use them,” Brooks replied.  “I’ll talk to someone and we’ll find another transport that will take us sooner.”

Maybe he did have the clout to pull that off, she didn’t know.

The area they’d gotten out in was a star-shaped boarding platform with space for five shuttles to dock.  They seemed to be the only ones in this part, and it was as cramped and narrow as she’d have expected of a space station, though there was at least gravity, even if it was spin.

And she had just been starting to get used to water falling straight instead of a coriolis curve . . .

The area quickly widened into a check-in terminal with elevator banks.  Everything looked extremely nice, she thought, the floors were made of marble with an almost mirror shine.

Brooks ignored the terminals and went straight to the elevators.

Even this was nice, she thought.  Gold leaf was arranged in dazzlingly fine detail, and she leaned over to try and look at them.

“This is the first point that anyone coming to Earth will see,” Brooks noted.  “So a lot of effort went into it all.”

“I’ll say.  I think I see people in this.  Working with the ground?”

“It’s a visual history of humanity,” Brooks told her.  “So they’re probably tilling, from the dawn of agriculture.”

She stood upright again.  “I can’t imagine working with my hands in the dirt,” she said.  “Have you ever done that?” she then asked, turning to look at him.

Brooks seemed to hesitate a minute, but something she said seemed to have made him happy.  “I’ve never done agriculture, but yes – I’ve worked in the dirt.  Planting flowers.”

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to grow flowers,” she said.  “No offense.”

“I don’t anymore,” he replied.  The door dinged and opened, and they stepped out into a vast area.

The ceiling was four floors above them, and hanging from it was an incredible chandelier made of what must be ten thousand crystals.  Within many of the central crystals were embedded symbols that she didn’t know.

“What are-” she began.

“There’s 15,000 crystals, for all the colonized human systems when we first joined the Sapient Union,” Brooks noted.

“And the symbols?”

“There existed several factions of system alliances that we still recognize as autonomous even if they did join with Earth.”

“That was like fifty years ago, right?” she asked, still gazing at it.  “I bet there’s a lot more now, aren’t there?”

“No, actually,” Brooks said.  “But let’s go.”

He led the way again, taking them through a crowded visitors area, snack bars, and past some entertainment venues to a set of very official-looking doors.  A scanner drone checked him, then her, making a few quizzical beeps as it did so.

“She doesn’t have a system,” Brooks said to it.

“It asked about that?” she asked him, once they were in.

“It thought it was odd,” he said.  “But it was just curious.”

“Drones get curious?”

“It’s just the eyes for an AI security system.”

Brooks went up to a desk and spoke to a woman behind it.

“I need to get a call through to Admiral Temohee Vandoss,” he said.

“I’m afraid our lines are currently in use, sir,” the woman said.  “There will be a wait of-“

“Use this override code,” Brooks said, showing her a piece of paper, of all things.

The woman looked at it, pursing her lips, but then nodded.

“What is that?” Apollonia asked.

The woman looked to her, then back to Brooks, pausing.

He turned to Apollonia.  “I need you to go wait out in the visitor’s area.  Take this card – it’ll let you get some food if you want.”  He pressed a thin card into her hands.

“Ah, sure,” Apollonia replied, feeling horribly self-conscious.

< Ep 4 Part 9 | Ep 4 Part 11 >

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

Several hours later, Urle left the bridge.

There had been no need for him to stand still on the bridge while working; the desk in Brooks’s – he would not yet think of it as his – office would have been the more proper location.

But he worked fine anywhere.  His knees could literally be locked if he wished, to allow him to stand with no effort.  He was more capable working with digital hands in his own virtual environment than with even his mechanical hands.

And no physical action could ever surpass the speed of his thought.

He might not be Dr. Y, he likely would never approach that until he became purely digital, but his computational power was still formidable.

He’d looked over every report, approved or rejected every bit of paperwork, submitted them to all relevant parties, handed out twelve accolades to various personnel in seven departments, and then checked in on Hannah and Persis via remote cameras.  They seemed to be quite involved in the gardening project their class had begun a month earlier.

He was still on-duty, and he decided to head to Brooks’s office, now that he actually had no more work to do.  He’d made his point of being present on the bridge, and he would still be only a message away.

As he left the bridge, he received a notification that surprised him; Ambassador N’Keeea had been passed through security to the pre-bridge.

That in itself was not surprising; as an Ambassador, he would be able to access certain areas beyond the norm, when under official business.  Not the bridge, not without special permission from the Captain, but this far, yes.

He thought it was the first time that N’Keeea had used such clearances since boarding their ship, however.  If anything, the being had been completely quiet and kept to himself all this time.

His system informed him that it was indeed the first time, and further that N’Keeea’s path seemed to be taking him towards the Captain’s office, with an 87% certainty.

Picking up his pace, Urle decided to be ready when he arrived.  His system predicted he had time to spare.

It proved to be correct.  He had sat in the chair behind the desk for all of 34 seconds when the chime came for a requested entry.

All the data on the caller confirmed it was N’Keeea.

“Enter,” Urle said.  The door opened for him.

The Hev Ambassador was slightly chubbier than most Hev, a sign that he came from a wealthy clan – or at least was accorded luxury in his home clan.

He was also short, even for a Hev, though most of his people were shorter than humans.

His face was rodent-like, the plates that ran down his back of a more subtle nature than many of his kind.  Most Hev reminded humans of a humanoid rat, but N’Keeea reminded Urle more of a hamster.

He’d heard of systems, human and other species, that were suspicious of Hev.  And some clans indeed seemed to have no scruples when it came to lying and cheating.  But he rejected that idea; Hev varied more than any other species he’d heard of in temperament and outlook.

“Greetings, Acting-Captain Urle,” N’Keeea said, with a bow.  “Do you have time for me to speak with you?”

Urle did, but he did not like the being simply coming here unannounced.  It was not the politeness – though certain rules and precedents should be followed in diplomatic encounters – but that he was unprepared for the interview.  He would have liked to review everything they had on N’Keeea, his clan, the Hev in general, and whatever else he could think of that was relevant.

“Briefly, Ambassador.  Apologies, but I am quite busy.”

“Of course, of course,” the Ambassador replied.  “I will make my inquiries short, then.”

Urle nodded, and gestured placatingly, which he hoped N’Keeea’s system would recognize.  “In the future, it would help if you called and made an appointment.  Then we could schedule the time you needed.”

“I see – yes, I will do that in the future, Acting-Captain.”  The Hev paused, still standing in the doorway, and finally stepped in just enough for the door to close behind him.

“Have a seat,” Urle said, gesturing.  He then frantically checked his knowledge database, to make sure that wasn’t incredibly rude to a Hev.

But the Hev were so disunited in culture that he found about a dozen conflicting versions of proper chair invitation etiquette, and the archive noted that it was incomplete.

Ambassador N’Keeea did not seem bothered, anyway.  “Oh, no, you need not concern yourself with my comfort, Acting-Captain.  I thought we might discuss a few things of the most trivial importance.”

It seemed odd for him to be playing down his own matters as trivial, but Urle nodded.  “Very well.”

“The cuisine on your ship is quite good.  It is not tailored towards my kind, but I find myself with ample options for dining nonetheless,” N’Keeea said.

That really got Urle confused.  “Ah . . . well, I am glad to hear it.  We do typically keep the patterns for food for most known species in our memory drives, to be sure we can accomodate any guest.”

“Yes . . . Very wise,” N’Keeea replied.  “Now, I suppose there is the matter of my bill.”

“Your bill?” Urle echoed.  How could they owe the being money?  He was about to ask that when N’Keeea continued.

“Yes, I am in your debt for transport to your home system,” N’Keeea said.

“You need not pay us for that,” Urle replied.

“I insist,” N’Keeea said.

“Truly,” Urle told him.  “We don’t have a running rate or way to calculate that.  It’s just a service we extended to you.”

The being had an odd expression, and Urle’s system tentatively identified it as suspicion.

“I see,” the Ambassador replied, his tone giving away nothing.

A silence fell again.

Urle finally ventured; “If you’d like, I could summon an Ambassador from Earth, if you wished to speak about more diplomatic issues . . .”

The Hev immediately waved it away.  “Oh, no that is entirely unnecessary.  Do not trouble yourself.”

“Very well,” Urle replied.  He was not sure what exactly was occurring.  “Is there anything else I can do for you, then?”

“I would not want to trouble you, Acting-Captain,” the Hev replied.

Urle nodded, but said nothing else.  N’Keeea likewise fell silent.

They simply stared at each other for an awkwardly long time.

Finally the Hev spoke again.  “Well, perhaps that will be all for now, Acting-Captain.”

Urle felt that he’d missed something important, but he truly did not know how far he should push this.  He was checking records of contact with Hev, looking for a hint, any clue – but he was finding nothing.

“Very well, then,” he finally said.  “Good day, Ambassador.”

< Ep 4 Part 8 | Ep 4 Part 10 >

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

Zach had just arrived back on the Craton from dropping off Ian and Apollonia, and now it was time.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself,  he stepped onto the bridge.

This was not the first time he’d been in command – many times for Brooks alone had he functioned in the role temporarily.

He’d even been a captain for a few years, of his own ship.  Granted, he’d not been given the rank of Captain, as the ship was merely a small patrol frigate, the Diamond Fog.

This time . . . it felt different.  Ominous.

He had a sense of foreboding that he could not entirely chalk up to easy sources.  The claims made by Director Freeman, that Brooks had failed in his duty, seemed impossible to uphold.

Then why was he so concerned?

Kell was also gone.  He’d gotten so used to the Shoggoth’s presence that he’d forgotten just how much tension its presence created.

He couldn’t say he missed the Ambassador, despite him feeling he had something of an understanding with the being, he did not like it being around.

But even that potential explanation for his concern was gone.  So was it just his nerves?

Walking onto the bridge, attempting his own version of Brooks’s steady and paced gait that displayed no nervousness, he moved to the middle of the top disc and peered around.

“Status report,” he queried.

He heard a chorus of ‘ayes’, and updates immediately flooded his system.  His internal systems scanned each for major issues, and finding none, he then took a moment to personally peruse the overall report.

As they were at port, there was very little to do that the department heads were not already handling.  He saw reports by each of them, their assistant AIs compiling real-time reports on the fly.

The preparations for the recall election were nearly complete, only awaiting word if they’d be needed.  Zeela Cann was remarkably efficient, all too often overlooked in that role, he thought.  She’d organized several events as well, that focused on the Craton as a community, a feast in congratulations for their recent accomplishments in aiding New Vitriol and MS-29, and a commemoration day for the ships first Captain, Kure Kei.

Kure had been well-respected, and had also greatly endorsed Brooks’s appointment as new Captain.

Urle wondered if Cann had picked the event just for that fact, and perhaps to bring attention to the fact that Brooks had not actually left, thus there was no need to note his departure.

At least he hoped as much.

He spent time on the bridge, continuing through the reports.  Dr. Y had only a few standard appointments to go through, he’d already prepared all paperwork for their recent emigres.  Jaya was running a security drill that was going well.  Sulp was ahead of schedule on getting everything they’d pulled out for the emigres re-stored, and soon they’d be taking on new provisions.

After sorting through all of it, he took up the file for the biggest event that was to happen under his command; the arrival of the Star Angel.  

That something so important could have slipped from his mind . . .

It should have outshined all other events for them, had this nonsense with the Captain not come up.

Just six years ago contact had first been made with the strange lifeforms from a binary star system at the edge of known space.  The smaller of the two stars, a white dwarf, leeched matter from its larger neighbor, with great volumes of plasma and ionized matter swirling about.  The volatility had made it a poor candidate for colonization, and little notice had been taken of it.

Until the radio signals were detected.

Investigations by SU first-contacters had discovered a lifeform long-speculated, but never before encountered;

Plasma life.

To be fair, they were not fully plasma; inside of their internal fields existed simple molecules that interacted under the magnetic fields of their body to form DNA-like information storage.

Communications issues were monstrous, making learning more about them a very slow process.  Their ‘language’ was the easiest part, simply a modulating radio signal that they could produce naturally, and our technology could easily replicate.

From what they had learned, their mere existence and mode of life seemed to defy the very definitions of lifeform.  The ‘Star Angels’, as they had been dubbed, did not procreate as life normally seemed to do, though sometimes they seemed to exchange genetic information.

The differences were so stark that even explaining many concepts that seemed otherwise universal among intelligent species could hardly be described to them.

Yet the Star Angels had been endlessly curious, and did not even seem to understand the concept of violence.

While the radiation-scoured vacuum around their stars was deadly to nearly all forms of life, such places of intense heat and energy were the only places they could exist.  For all of their history they had been trapped in their system, and could never even hope to leave.

Technology alone seemed to offer them hope.  Though conditions varied in many ways, an active fusion reactor created conditions that could not only support their form of life, but they seemed to actively enjoy.

It helped, too, that they were capable of surviving for a few hours in the absence of strong plasma and magnetic fields, enabling their transport to be quite safe.

Their keen interest in seeing the rest of the universe, rapid willingness to join the Sapient Union, and the fact that none of their behaviours – besides being incredibly alien – were in any way objectionable to other members of the SU, had caused events to move quickly.  And now, they would be taking a Star Angel on board.

The Craton would not be the first ship to host a Star Angel, but it was far from common.

And it would arrive tomorrow.

“Has Engineering prepared reactor seven for the Star Angel’s arrival?” he asked.

The answer from Cutter came immediately.  “Preparations were completed seventeen cycles ago.  Efficiency of fusion reactor reduced by only 2.4%, and I predict future tweaks after arrival should enable recovery of lost efficiency within ~0.2% margin of error.”

So it seemed that part was ready.  He checked his itinerary and saw that the timeline for his involvement had already been marked and prepared.

He had been very much looking forward to meeting the being, but right now other concerns were souring his excitement.

But he needed to learn all he could.

Taking a deep breath, he watched his O2 meters spike briefly, and let his mind calm.  Turning up the relative rate of operations in his cybernetics, he prepared to think all of this through.

He was not going to take chances, he was going to put in the hard work to get this right, no matter what his personal feelings were, or where his mind wanted to go.

< Ep 4 Part 7 | Ep 4 Part 9 >

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

Did people from MS-29 not know how to queue, Pirra wondered in annoyance.

The crowd outside the shuttle was merely a blob with no semblance of order.  She saw drones trying to herd them around, but the people seemed extremely reluctant to do anything other than try to stand as close to the glass as possible.

Just a few antsy people had started it, as far as she could tell.  Once they’d broken the line the others had just started milling about as well.

Where were the officers, trying to bring some order to this?  The drones couldn’t do this alone, they could use nothing except words against civilians, and few if any of the doctors seemed to respect their authority.

She saw one man in the ship’s uniform trying to control things, but he was being talked to by at least five different people, and her system told her that he was just an acting-ensign.

“Hold this,” she said to Alexander, shoving the bag she was carrying into his arms.

“You’re not going to-” he began.  But she’d already stepped away.

Glancing around the crowd, she clocked herself back into duty, and saw that many of these people were doctors or other specialists, people with rank.  They should know better than this!

Taking control of the drones, she ordered them into a formation above the heads of the doctors, and spoke through them.

“This is Response Lieutenant Pirra,” she said.  It boomed out from the speakers on the drones, startling the whole crowd.

“I am issuing a direct order under section 37, article 19 of the ship’s charter.  You are all to assemble into an orderly line immediately.  You have until this countdown completes.”

“Ten,” the drones said in their own voices in unison.

The crowd looked shocked.

“Nine,” they counted again.

“Move it!” she barked.

They scrambled to obey.  The count was just at three when they were all queued up.  She let it stop.

Article 19 of section 37 only stated that Response personnel could, in fact, direct traffic.  She had no authority for punishment.

But they hadn’t known that.  It was just all about the attitude.

“Ma’am,” one man asked.  He looked like trouble, she thought.  She waved him over, but when others also began over, she barked out again.  “Only him.”

He hesitated, and she watched him, intentionally not blinking.  It sometimes intimidated humans.

“Our shuttle is late,” he said.  “We’ve been waiting for thirty minutes!”  He stressed the last two words as if they were the worst thing ever.

She continued to stare at him.  “Then wait,” she said.  Her system told her that his rank was Doctor-Commander.  Far above her pay-grade, and she technically had no right to order him around, not unless there was an emergency.  Hopefully, he wouldn’t think to look up the command she had cited.

“There’s no one even controlling things!” he said.  “We have one young man who doesn’t know a thing!”

“We’re overwhelmed,” Pirra replied.  “Our people haven’t been back to Earth in a long while either, and we’re carrying a lot of passengers.  This is bound to happen.  Now,” she raised her voice so it carried through the drones again.  “You are logged in the system.  You are not forgotten.  The shuttles are just behind schedule – no doubt because some people forgot how to behave in an orderly fashion.”  She cut off anything more pointed.  “So we’ll queue up, and then all quietly wait for our shuttle to arrive.  Do you understand?”

There was a moment of hesitation where she was not sure if he’d listen.  But the man nodded, and moved back into line.

Letting out a breath, she also moved back into line next to Alexander.

“Good job,” he said quietly.

She glanced up and saw the acting-ensign looking extremely grateful.

“Thanks,” she said.  “Someone had to bring some organization to this.  Are we really that short-handed?”

“Honey,” Alexander said.  “Your crest is up.”  He reached up, and gently patted the stiff feathery bristles.

She realized he was right, and willed them back down to lie flatter.

“Were you ready to punch him if he talked back?” Alexander asked her, laughing.

“Maybe,” she replied, still feeling the adrenaline.  Her kind, she knew, were often said to be ‘calm until they weren’t’, and in her case it was quite true.  If the doctor had recognized her raised crest as the warning signal it absolutely was, perhaps that was why he’d backed down.

Of course, she wouldn’t have punched him, but he might not have been willing to bet on that.

It had worked, at least.

The wait wasn’t as long as she feared it would be.  Only five minutes later they received the notification that boarding would begin soon.  And only three more after that, the doors opened to allow admission.

The boarding was rapid and efficient, until someone’s bag got loose and floated through the tunnel, careening around until drones captured it.

When her turn came, she pushed down the zero-g tunnel to the shuttle main area.  Using the handholds she made her way to her seat, and was grateful that the doctor she’d ordered about wasn’t near them.

Stuffing her bags into the compartment below the seats, she sat down.  Alexander sat down next to her.

“Well,” he said.  “We’re on our way.”

Pirra felt a rush of euphoria.  She’d been looking forward to this visit for months.  “To Mars,” she chirped happily.

< Ep 4 Part 6 | Ep 4 Part 8 >

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

“Please list all rules and regulations related to assumed command if the captain is unavailable or incapacitated,” the electronic voice asked her.

“Oh fuck,” Apollonia muttered.

“That is not a rule or regulation,” it helpfully said.  “If you would like to check your book, feel free now.”

She was tempted, but it felt like a cowardly move.  Surely this wasn’t really supposed to help her learn when she could just check?

“You can look,” Jaya noted, glancing up from her desk.  “This is an early exam.  The point is not to catch you being wrong, but to help you become comfortable navigating information, Ms. Nor.  No one knows all the rules and regulations early on.”

“I spent all last night studying,” Apollonia replied.  “I know this.”

Ever since she’d told Jaya that she wanted to join the crew, the woman had been helping her to prepare for her Command Aptitude Test.

It was much more than simply a written test, she’d been told, but precisely what it would be was not something Jaya could tell her.

“Like with actual duty, we cannot prepare for every eventuality.  We must learn precepts that prepare us to act in the face of calamity,” the Commander had told her.

Looking back at the screen, Apollonia knew she could do it.  She’d never had a lot of chance to get schooling, besides the automated programs for children on Vitriol.

But she’d wanted to learn.  She began to input the answers to the question.

Regulation 71.a stipulated that the Executive Commander took charge if the Captain was out of action.

72.a stated that in absence of the Executive Commander, the Chief of Operations would take control.

That one had surprised her; Jaya was a serious woman, clearly at the top of her field.  But Apollonia hadn’t known she was third in line to command the ship.

It had to entail a lot of responsibility.  But despite that, Jaya had taken the time, gone out of her way, to help a complete moron like herself.

Looking over her answers, Apollonia really didn’t feel like she was doing a great job.  These questions had just stuck in her mind, but she didn’t think she’d really learned the rules that well yet.

She added two more.  Each time she completed one, it noted her success, and showed the exact wording if she was off.

She’d missed two, but she’d gotten eight.  That was good, right?

The next question was regarding rules about foreign nationals on the ship – another one she’d found herself interested in during her readings.  It was lucky they were asking things she actually knew.

When the next question had also been on a topic she’d found interesting – that of rations for crew – she frowned.

“It seems like this is just asking me about the things I remember the best.  But how can it know?”

Jaya glanced up again.  “You are correct.  Your system – all of our systems – notice where our eyes go, what catches our interest.  Right now it is attempting to drill those aspects into your mind.  It helps to form a core or basis for further learning.”

Apollonia stared.  “You mean it’s watching me all the time?”

“Whenever you’re looking at it.  You need not worry; all personal biometric data is kept internally in your system.  It is entirely normal.”

“It’s creepy,” she said.

“Observation is universal and ubiquitous in the Sapient Union, Ms. Nor.  We are an extremely open society, and we believe that it helps us all stay safe and free.  Of course we have privacy at times it is appropriate, but-“

“Would it turn someone in?  If they committed a crime,” Apollonia asked.

“That is a complex question – but no, they do not do that.  It is unnecessary and helps people feel comfortable with their privacy – and helps prevent people from tampering with them to gain some sort of ‘edge’.  But since many actions cause your system to connect to external systems, or you simply move within the scanning range of other systems, those ones will typically note illegal behaviour.  It’s not a common occurrence, however.”

“But we are being monitored.”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that ever bother you?” Apollonia asked.

“Perhaps if I had not grown up in it, it would.  Or if our conditions were those of an exploited class, watched by rulers who only viewed us as sources of profit or potential criminals, yes.  But for me, I feel a simple comfort knowing that we do not have terrorism, no one need live in fear.  Not of attack, and not of want or privation.”  She hesitated, then nodded, as if admitting a caveat.  “Save for in times of disaster.”

“Does that happen often?” Apollonia asked, sitting back and watching the woman curiously.

“There are nearly 15,000 human-colonized systems, and many times that in the entire Sapient Union.  By dint of the sheer scale of our civilization, yes, somewhere within it there is a crisis going on at this moment.  Likely not a massive one, but perhaps a colony is having a problem with its fusion reactors, or miners believe they are being mistreated and someone is attempting to hide dirty deeds.  When such things happen, we learn of them because of the openness of our society and are able to respond swiftly and effectively to make sure it is put right.”

“Okay,” Apollonia said.  What Jaya said made logical sense; without knowing about a problem it couldn’t be fixed.  But, even though the officers she had personally met so far had seemed to be good people, it seemed impossible to think that all of them, everywhere, were.

“So how do you make sure that-“

She was cut off by a beep from her tablet.  Looking down, she saw a priority alert.  She’d set her system to block anything less than that.

“You should take that,” Jaya noted.

Clicking on the message, she just saw text.

“Your presence has been requested at Earth Command Headquarters,” it read, and she saw that Captain Brooks was the sender.

“You are not required to go, but I highly recommend it.  Transport will be provided.  Pack your bags and be ready to leave by 1600 hours.”

She looked up to Jaya, her face in shock.

“I’m going to see Earth,” she breathed.

< Ep 4 Part 2 | Ep 4 Part 4 >

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

“. . . due to the nature of the issue in question, Captain, I am afraid that your hearing cannot be arbitrated or judged by any of our legal AIs.”

“Nature of the issue?” Brooks asked.

“The fact that it involves zerospace . . . tenkionic matter.  It makes it highly dangerous to expose as powerful an AI as our justice machines to anything that could potentially be corruptive.”

“I see,” Brooks said.  “Will it be a panel, then?”

“Yes,” he was told.  The voice was faceless, audio only, but he knew he was speaking to the Director of Fleet Law in the Justice Bureau, Davij Kernos.  “A tribunal consisting of System Admiral Vandoss, Director Kressin of the Research Bureau, and myself.  Several other directors will also be functioning as questioners and observers.

“While you are gone, Brooks, Executive Commander Urle will be acting captain.”

“And if I am found to have been negligent in my duties, as Director Freeman has claimed?” Brooks asked.

“Then Urle will remain in command until a new Captain is selected for the Craton,” Kernos replied.  “You will be subject to a recall election as Mayor of the ship as well.”

“I understand,” Brooks replied.  “Thank you, Director.  I’ll see you in a few days.”

The link ended, and Brooks turned in his seat to address the officers who had been waiting.

The tension pulled their faces into stressed lines, and he spoke.

“Zach, you heard – you’ll be in command while I’m gone.  Jaya, I’d like you to function as his Executive Officer if you don’t mind.”  A wry smile went onto his face.  “According to protocol, I am off-duty once the ship reaches port, so I cannot order you.”

“Of course, Captain,” Jaya replied.

“The ship will be in top shape when you return, Captain,” Urle said.

A warmth blossomed in Brooks’s chest, and he nodded.  “Zeela, would you begin the recall election procedures?”

“I will, Captain,” she said, her eyes darting to the other officers before settling on him.

Dr. Y had said nothing, and Brooks looked to him.  “What are you thinking, Doctor?”

“I am thinking, Captain, that this action makes no sense.  Director Freeman gave you a senseless order – how to keep someone alive whose existence we do not understand?  You did nothing.”

“I agree,” Brooks said.  “I know that Freeman is . . . often open with his emotions, but he’s not stupid.  Having me brought up on charges seems like an outburst, and while it might be easy to believe he’d do that, I’m skeptical.”

“Do you think it’s someone other than him?” Zach asked, brow furrowing.

“I don’t know,” Brooks replied.  “I think it’s more likely that there’s something not obvious here, something we’re missing.  Is this a power-grab for authority from the Medical Department?”

“A power grab,” Jaya said.  “What have the times come to?  Anti-corruption measures have kept this sort of selfishness under control for centuries.”

“No system is perfect,” Brooks replied.  “Perhaps some corruption will sneak into a system like ours.  On certain timescales, it starts to seem inevitable.”

He rose from his desk.  “But even if this is the case, I believe we’ll come through – I will not be found guilty of charges as nonsense as these.”

“Exactly,” Y said.  “You cannot be found guilty.  As far as anyone can prove logically, no one did anything to kill Michal Denso.  No one knows his cause of death.  How, then, could it possibly be your fault, Captain?”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Brooks said.

“I am sorry to say that I do not mean it as a reassuring statement, Captain.  It concerns me more than if I believed Director Freeman genuinely wanted to exact revenge upon you with these charges.  Instead, as you have guessed, there is something else that is going on.  The fact that we do not know what it is means that we cannot take counter-actions.”

Y’s words were astute, and Brooks could see in the eyes of his officers that they saw it, too.

“Captain,” Zeela said, clearly trying to cheer the conversation.  “Seeing as I manage all campaign information distribution, is there any verbal point you’d like me to make to the citizens of the Craton?”

“No,” he told her.  “I’ll tell them myself.”

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