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

---

Taking his first breath of Ko’s air, Brooks could feel how laden with moisture it was, even through the filter.

His system told him that this was a low-humidity day by local standards, at only 77%.

Curiosity got the better of him; he decided to take off his mask and take a deep breath.

The air was the most humid he’d ever breathed, like he was sitting over a steaming pot.  He could feel some condense in his mouth, and had to swallow to clear it.  It didn’t help.

Putting his mask back on, he let it clear his airways.

And this was out over the water, he thought.  Where the sea winds would keep the air fresher.

In the jungles where the !A!amo lived, the temperatures averaged forty-six and the relative humidity rarely dropped below ninety-five percent.

At those numbers, there was a risk of water condensing out into his lungs and drowning him.  His mask would filter the excess moisture out, but the idea was . . . troubling.

I’m very far from home, he thought, remembering just how dry the air was in Antarctica.

The !Xomyi had evolved for this world, they could survive it.  How would they fare in space on a ship that had to maintain a lower humidity?  He didn’t doubt the science teams had done their jobs and taken this into account as best they could, but it would be hard to make a ship feel like this inside.

Already his exposed skin was sweating under the beating sun.  It hit a critical threshold and his coolsuit kicked in, humming slightly.

He’d wondered if the !Xomyi would hear that hum and be alarmed, but it had been built so that the sound was a little out of their hearing range.  They likely would not notice it.

Looking towards the shoreline, five kilometers to the West, he considered just how bad it would feel once they were in the jungle.  He knew the numbers didn’t tell you anything except that it would be miserable.

It had been said that they should give themselves at least 24 hours to acclimate before plunging in.

But Brooks disagreed.  He did not feel rushed, even though they had little time.  He had enough time, he thought.  Success would be based on how he did, not the time itself.

Easy to think now, the thought came.  When it was time for them to pull out, there would be no leeway.  They had only estimates of when the moon would start to break up, but they could not be sure.  If the moon started to break up earlier than expected, then he’d have to go or die.

Regardless of how much headway he’d made in convincing the !A!amo to give up everything they knew.

“We’ll set out immediately,” he told the drones.

“Are you certain you don’t want to acclimate?” Kai asked him.

“Yes,” he said.  “This isn’t the jungle – it’s going to be much worse there.  I want us there as soon as we can so we have as much time as possible to get used to our new environment.”  He smiled slightly.  “This isn’t my first time being on a new, and only semi-tolerable world.”

Kai did not seem happy with his call, but she nodded.  She had expected that Brooks might do this.

The winds here tore at them violently.  There was nothing but ocean out East of them.  There was only one small continent on the other hemisphere; the wind could fly almost unabated around the world, picking up tremendous speed.

One of the drones was battered by an unexpected gust and went tumbling, righting itself just before it fell out of sight.

Kai was battered by the same wind, stumbling towards the railing.

The railing was three meters tall, but through the bars she stared off the edge, down thirty meters towards the sea.  The waves came up close to half that height.

She wasn’t about to get blown over a three-meter fence.  But she knew that if someone, somehow did go over, their odds of survival were almost zero.  The winds made rescue drones unreliable, and the waves would batter aquatic ones.  Only crawlers with ropes and nets, clinging to the pillars, could have a chance.

Stepping away from the railing and looking out towards the land, she almost regretted taking a field role again after all this time.

---

< Ep 12 part 7 | Ep 12 part 9 >

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

---

“That dropship looks like a plane,” Apollonia said.

“It is a spaceplane,” Y told her.  “Not a dropship.”

She paused for a moment, still studying the vehicle through the screen.  “I’m going to keep calling it a dropship.”

“They are fundamentally different devices,” Y said.  “But you may call it what you wish.”

“Damn straight,” she muttered.  “Dropping into atmo like a marine from space . . .”

“The term is espatier,” Y noted.  “‘Space Marine’ is a dated term.”  He paused; “By which I mean that it is fake and lame.”

Apollonia laughed.  “I didn’t know you were privy to what’s hip.”

“I must keep it on the down low, or else it would ruin my reputation,” Y replied.

A computer voice spoke from overhead.

“Boarding for Landing Party 2 may now commence.”

“That is our party,” Y said.  “I like to believe that it is the best party, as well.”

A ‘snerk’ sound came out of Apollonia as they queued up to board.

The first trip down had been the most essential personnel for Outpost Alexa, along with their security detail.  There would be a third shuttle of scientific equipment, but otherwise that was it.  sixty-odd people on an ocean rig for . . . well, months.

“Hey, Y, is it true that the security team went down on the first shuttle to make sure that giant sea pigs didn’t crawl up and take it over?” she asked.

“I have not heard that rumor,” Y said.  “Though I can tell you with certainty that it is unlikely.  The pylons are too difficult for the sea pigs to climb.”

“Too bad, they sound cute.  I wanna ride one.”

Stepping through the airlock, Apollonia followed the prompts on her tablet to her seat.  Y did not follow, but his voice came through her ear bud.

“I am, technically, going to remain on the Craton, but I will have my presence with you during your descent.”

The straps tightened around Apollonia on their own, and she felt her heart beat faster in excitement.

She was going down to an alien planet!

“I saw in your cargo manifest that you brought a ‘swimsuit’,” Y said in her ear.

“. . . why are you looking in my cargo, Y?” she asked.

“I peruse all relevant data for those under my command.  I hope you do not mind, but I added two more sets of uniforms to your baggage, to make sure you have enough.”

“Did you leave my swimsuit, though?”

“I did, though I do not believe you will get a chance to go swimming.  Or ride giant sea pigs, though I notice you did not even bother to pack a saddle.”

She chuckled again.  “Well, I still have a hope of going swimming.  A girl can dream, right?”

“You would have to hope not to be eaten.  There are very large marine predators on Ko, and they are not as easily defended against by drones.  All personnel are banned from close proximity to the ocean.”

“Shit, really?  Guess I won’t need the swimsuit.  But why will I even need the uniforms?  Won’t we be wearing coolsuits?”

“Yes, but they are in fact skin-tight.  Some say they seem almost inappropriate to be worn alone, and so uniforms are typically worn over them.”

“. . . oh, wow,” she said.  “Yeah, I’m glad you sent me more uniforms, I don’t need people seeing how fat my ass is getting.”

“Technically, you are still underweight, Nor.  Though not as much as when you first joined the Craton.”

There was a loud clacking followed by a thump, and she jumped in her seat.

“The airlock has sealed,” Y said.  “You are about to begin your descent!”

“Great,” she muttered.  The excitement in her stomach had turned to butterflies.  “Ko has a pretty thick atmosphere, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, at sea level it is approximately 1.6 times Earth standard pressure.  But do not worry, that is within tolerable limits for breathing.”

It wasn’t that . . . it was more the thought that the dropship was going to slam into that atmosphere at high speeds.  Sure, human ships had been doing it for like a thousand years – air braking was just such a nice and convenient way to shed speed – but she’d also spent far too much time watching compilations of ships having something go wrong and explode when doing such a drop.

Those were all some random spacer’s poorly-maintained ship, she told herself.  Not some super fantastic Union ship from one of her best vessels.

But of course, even with the Sapient Union’s best ships, there was always a chance of a catastrophic failure.

“We are preparing for atmospheric entry,” a pleasant computer voice called.  “In approximately twenty minutes.  If you are not already strapped into your re-entry chair, please do so now.”

A few officers had been milling about, talking to each other and simply gripping hand holds as the dropship had maneuvered away from the Craton.

Now they took their seats, a young officer sitting next to her, offering a pleasant smile.

She smiled back.  He was rather good looking.

But he was probably fifty or something, she thought.  He didn’t look that much older than . . . well, she had no idea, really.  She had been wrong about her own age until recently.  He was probably older than her actual age of 22, which was younger than the 28 she had thought she’d been.

“Specialist Nor, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, feeling oddly happy that he knew her name.  “But, uh, sorry, I don’t know you.”

“That’s understandable, I’m just a Lieutenant.  Alisher Rasulov,” he said, offering a hand.

She took it, and hated that her grip felt so slack in his hand.

“Ah, is that Lt. Rasulov?” Y asked.  “I recommended him for this mission, as he displays excellent leadership qualities-“

“Shush!” she snapped.  “Stop telling me stuff!”

Rasulov blinked.  She’d been looking in his direction when she’d said that.

“Ah, talking to a friend on the Craton,” she said nervously.

Rasulov nodded, though she thought he still looked a little concerned.

Her humiliation was forgotten as the ship began to shake violently.  Her knuckles turned white gripping onto her armrest.

“Intense shaking is a normal part of re-entry,” Y’s voice spoke.  It crackled with static.

“Am I losing you?” she asked nervously, muttering so Rasulov wouldn’t hear.

“Yes, I am afraid there will be a window of several minutes when the plasma shroud around the spaceplane – pardon me, dropship – will become intense enough to prevent my messages from reaching you.  While the ship will use other means to communicate in that time, the bandwidth is somewhat limited, and I will likely be silent.  Do not be concerned; this is normal.”

“Swell.”

“I know you do not mean that, Nor, but it is truly quite safe.  You are more likely to be killed by flying space debris in transit than in entry through an atmosphere!”

“That’s really swell.”

Y paused.  “We are losing communications in a moment.”

There was a crackle, then he was gone.

The ship continued to shake, and she noticed – oddly taking comfort in it – that Rasulov was also holding on with white knuckles.

“These re-entries,” he said, smiling at her.

She smiled back.  “Makes me miss the space elevator around Earth.”

The man nodded, his jaw setting.

The cabin seemed to be getting warmer, but then just as it started to get uncomfortable, the rattling stopped.

“We have successfully passed through the upper atmosphere,” the computer voice said.

“Ah, hello, Nor!” Y said in her ear just a moment after.  “You have made it, as I predicted!”

She forced herself to let go of the armrest.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she said, not quite feeling it yet.

“I am glad to hear you say that, even if you are lying,” Y said.  “One day you may believe it.”

She scowled.  How the hell did he know?

“So will you have to go soon?” she asked.

“Not yet.  But do not worry, you will find Dr. Zyzus a fair and knowledgeable teacher.”

“I still wish I was learning from you,” she muttered.

“It is good to have multiple teachers,” Y told her.  “It gives you perspective.”

She still was not very happy about this part.  Nervous, even.  But it was still all worth it.

“We will be landing in three minutes,” the AI voice said.  “Prepare for vertical descent.”

Vertical descent?  Would they just be dropping out of the air or something?

She gripped her seat again nervously.

---

< Ep 12 part 6 | Ep 12 part 8 >

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

---

“All right, Captain, try speaking.”

Brooks took a breath.  The mask over his face would appear to most eyes, including those of the !Xomyi, to be normal.  But it was a complex 3D projector and filter over his mouth that served two purposes; to filter the air, and to make it look like he was speaking the language of the !A!amo.

“Hello, I am Captain Ian Brooks,” he said.

Lagging only slightly behind, came the words in their best approximation of the !A!amo language.  He could not have transcribed them if he had wanted; largely he could pick out many clicks, high sounds outside of the standard range of human hearing, and glottal stops.

“Good, the mask is translating your words well.  Although, the !A!amo do not have naval vessels, and therefore lack the term ‘Captain’.”

“What does it translate my title to?”

“Simply as ‘chosen leader’.  Or . . . we believe as much.  The !A!amo are a group whose language we know only somewhat well.  We have had to fill in gaps with some knowledge from other nearby groups of !Xomyi who we believe speak related languages.”

Brooks nodded, then reached up and took off the mask.  It was one of the most important pieces of equipment he’d have with him.  Without it, he wouldn’t even be able to communicate with the !A!amo.

“The table is prepared,” Y said as he placed the mask back in its case.  He’d have spares with him in the unlikely event that this one failed.

Brooks looked to the table through the clear curtain.  He had already changed into a cleansuit and had his body sprayed with a chemical that would cleanse it.  Until he went down to the surface in seven hours he’d be in this clean room.

Stepping through the curtain, the deck in here felt colder than it did on the other side, and he wished he could at least wear shoes in here.

Getting on the table, it conformed to his shape and leaned back so that he was horizontal to the floor.

Y loomed over him.

“You must know, Captain, that what we are doing here is typically very ill-advised,” the doctor said.

Brooks found himself a little annoyed; he might have felt differently had he not been on the examination table and Y above him.

“I agree,” Brooks said.  “It’s risky going down there.  The !Xomyi could be hostile, the megafauna is hostile, the moon could break apart and come down on us ahead of schedule . . . nevermind the damage that this rushed contact will do to the !Xomyi even if everything goes right.”

“That is an ethical issue, yes, but my point is really the threat of contagion,” Y said.  “While the !Xomyi are alien and therefore cannot be infected in the classical sense by external microbes, it is still possible for hostile colonization to occur.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Brooks said, pointing to the table.

“Yes, gut re-lining is a good process, but the results are not always perfect,” Y replied.  “There have been cases where-“

“Let’s get started,” Brooks ordered.

“Very well.  You may experience some discomfort, I am sorry to say,” Y replied.  “But shedding the majority of your internal gut lining cannot be anything but.”

“Not my first time,” Brooks said, grunting as the clenching in his stomach began.  It was more than a little discomfort.

“As I was saying, even with this, and with the cleansing of your surfaces, there is the risk of contagious spreading.”

Brooks said nothing; words were difficult to make when his body was betraying him so strongly.

Y continued.  “Though I do not wish to alarm you unduly.  From my studies I believe the risks are low – for you or the !Xomyi.  There simply is a chance.”

“Good to know,” Brooks grunted.

Y wished that humans could understand that even a statistically tiny chance, when spread over a large time frame, became alarmingly more possible.  Though, he reasoned, even if some bacteria found their way down and infected the environment, the world was doomed already.

“Just remember to inform me if you find any strange growths, colonies, or other such things upon your person,” Y added.

He did not wait for a reply that he knew would not come, judging by Brooks’s look of concentration.

“To be honest, the most difficult aspect from an infection control standpoint will be making sure that different groups of !Xomyi do not spread diseases to each other.”

“We just have to keep . . . . disparate groups separated,” Brooks said, breathing sharply.

“Yes, I understand the transport ship will be sectioned off so that different !Xomyi groups can be prevented from encountering distant groups who might have diseases novel to them.  Still, within the enclosed system of a ship, there is a threat of pandemic.”

“How much longer?” Brooks asked.

“We are half done!” Y said happily.

The Captain’s look of annoyance was not veiled this time.

“Due to the extended time you will be spending down there, your preparation must be extremely thorough,” Y said, then sighed and shrugged.  “Going down to a new world is not as fun or easy as it has often been portrayed,” he lamented on the Captain’s behalf.

“We sometimes overlooked the finer details,” Brooks said in a moment where the pain lessened.

“Ah, yes, fine details reminds me.  I am concerned with your body’s reaction to the local pollen,” Y said.  “I believe there is a strong chance it will trigger a severe allergic reaction in you, in particular.  Your Antarctican upbringing means you were exposed to fewer than most planet-born humans, and therefore you are more susceptible.”

“But I like to think I can manage them better than those born on ships or stations,” Brooks grunted.  Then another wave of pain hit him.

“No, actually, you fall in a middle zone where your body has been rendered sensitive to such particles, but not used to any!  It is very unfortunate.”

He paused, as Brooks said nothing.  But the look on the Captain’s face made clear why.

It was unfortunate, Y, thought, but the Captain had volunteered for this mission.  He decided that continuing to talk would provide at least some distraction from the cramps.

“After you have recovered from this, I will be performing a few minor operations to put a filter into your nostrils for the pollen.  Your mask will shield some, this should catch the rest.  Though I cannot guarantee full protection, it should keep you from being incapacitated.”

“Urk,” Brooks managed to say.

“Also, while I am certain it has been mentioned to you, do not eat any local food while you are on the planet.”

Brooks took a deep breath.  “That may be unavoidable,” he managed to get out.  “For social reasons . . .”

“True.  I will also therefore be installing an enzyme processor into your stomach.  You may feel its presence, it is approximately the size of a clementine orange.”  Y paused.  “Or would you prefer its size in centimeters?”

“I don’t care,” Brooks bit out.

“Very well.  It will detoxify any native food you eat, though too much might still get through and could cause issues.  My modeling of the effects of their exotic – to you, at least – amino acids and proteins suggest that their food may cause cramps at the mild end, death at the most extreme.”

“At least I’m well-practiced handling the former,” Brooks said.  It felt like the cramping in his gut was dying down.

“And you skirt far too close to the latter on a regular basis for my tastes,” Y said.  “But, well, Captain, it is time to replace your gut biome with our specially-created one!  Please bear with me, this may tingle.”

It was more than a tingle, Brooks thought.

---

< Ep 12 part 4 | Ep 12 part 6 >

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

---

It was a late hour as Apollonia stood outside of Brooks’s door.

Word had spread across the Craton about why they had come to this system, which she had also heard was not even in the Union.  Some of the stories were rumors, for sure.  They always seemed to start and then die off quickly – despite people’s propensity for them, the Union hated rumors.  She’d even heard a few PSAs about the topic, how they could hurt morale or cause panic.

Of course, the rumors she heard were usually from her friend Ann, and usually salacious or exciting, rather than fear mongering.

But whether they were true or not, they had come to a planet that was new to Apple, and she had thus far not gotten to see a world that wasn’t Earth.

She didn’t want to miss this one.

Of course, she wasn’t sure how to broach the topic to the Captain.  He was probably asleep, she mused.

A message pinged on her system and she looked at her tablet.

Are you going to come in?  It was from Brooks.

Perhaps, she thought, he was not asleep.

Going into the room, Apollonia stopped.

The cabin was not really much different from her own.  It had more furniture, yes, she still hadn’t really gotten around to decorating, but Brooks seemed to like things open and simple.  It wasn’t even that big, relative to hers; there was a little more space, where he had a work table for captain stuff, and mementos and curios hung on the walls or sat on shelves.  But it was very simple, really.

Brooks was sitting at a second desk, on which was a model plane.  She had no idea what kind, but he had the front compartment of it opened, and a tiny replica of an engine lay exposed.

“Hello,” he said, glancing up to her.

“Oh, wow,” she said.  “You really do build model planes.”

“Did you think I lied?” he asked, smiling slightly.

“No, just . . .  Well, that’s cool,” she replied awkwardly.

Brooks caught it, but just seemed more amused.  “I’m going to be off the ship for some time, so I wanted to take the last chance I could.  I had hoped to finish and fly it before getting deployed onto Ko, but I think that was optimistic.”

“Will it really fly?” Apollonia asked.

“It should, even in one G,” he told her.  “The engine is a miniature of the actual thing, scaled down.  With modern materials the weight-to-lift ratio is in my favor.”

“Where are you going to fly it?” she asked.  “Is there anywhere open enough on the Craton?”

The Equator seemed an obvious choice, but the odds of it careening into someone’s head seemed high.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “Maybe I’ll take it down onto a planet someday.”

“Hope some big space eagle doesn’t eat it,” she added.

He frowned.  “I hadn’t thought of that.  It’s plausible on some worlds.”  He put down the plane.  “Actually, on Ko.  There are some very large flying animals down there.”

“I’ve heard,” Apollonia said, her heart starting to beat faster.  “They’re kinda like pterosaurs.  Lots of big, awesome things down there.  I heard some people say they’re almost like dinosaurs.”

“I bet anyone who loves dinosaurs would be excited to go down there,” Brooks added.

Apollonia was thrown off.  “Yeah so, on that topic . . .  I was wondering . . .”

“You can be a part of the surface mission,” Brooks told her.  “If, by chance, that interests you.”

Apollonia let out a sound that she could only have described as a squee.

“Ohholydarkinshit yes,” she breathed.  She snapped into the best salute she could manage.  “Specialist Apollonia Nor reporting for planet-side duty, Captain!”

“You’ll be attached to Cenz’s command,” Brooks told her.  “As a medical volunteer – Y told me about your interest, and this is where you’d start up on the ship, too.  Your direct supervisor will be Dr. Zyzus, who is going to be running the medical wing at Outpost Alexa.”

“Not Dr. Y?”

“He’ll be indisposed, providing remote medical support to the surface missions.”  Brooks paused, considering.  “When you landed on Earth, you didn’t have any issues with the ocean, did you?”

“No, why?”

“Because Outpost Alexa is on an ocean rig.  About five kilometers from the shoreline of Eastern Island.”

“Why out at sea?”

“It’s the only occupied outpost, and we thought it best not to have a base where something the size of a Tyrannosaur could just wander in.”

Her eyes widened.  “There are Tyrannosaurs?”

“No . . . not exactly.  Just things that big.  But I was joking, anyway, drones wouldn’t let a big predator through.  But being at sea still gives a good passive protection from such threats.”

“What about sea beasts?  You saw Shark Hole, Ian, those things are only stuck in the water because they haven’t yet decided to stop being affected by physics!”

He smiled, amused.  “Bring your concerns up with Cenz,” he told her.

She snapped to a smart salute again.  “Aye-aye, cap’n.”  She grinned then.  “And thank you.  You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to see an alien world . . .”

“Of course I do,” he replied, his return smile warm.  “I was the same way.”

---

< Ep 12 part 3 | Ep 12 part 5 >

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

---

The Diplomatic AI speaking to them in the briefing room was one of the most advanced allowed in the Sapient Union.

It projected a hologram of a very average individual with short dark hair, brown eyes, and brown skin.  They appeared androgynous, the heavy blue robes they wore further hiding their details.

With him in here, Brooks saw over three hundred officers and volunteers, who would be heading down to the planet’s surface.

Every one of his commanders had volunteered.  A poll among the population of the Craton had shown that 17%, almost 6,000 people, were willing to go down to the planet.  Among the rest, 98% reported as being willing to be involved in some capacity in the rescue operation.

Only a fraction of people had the necessary skills, but it was heartening to know that they all cared.

Of his command officers, he’d had to order many to stay on the ship.  She still needed a command crew.

Among the people in this room he immediately noticed Professor Thompson, who taught Urle’s girls, Lieutenant Srul, who he had worked with on the Kilimanjaro, and Aoks Darhan, who had run against him for mayor in the last election.  Of the 6,000 who had volunteered, only these three hundred had the requisite skills.

It was not just a matter of diplomacy, but survival skills as well; Ko was a hostile world, with megafauna that surpassed the largest in Earth’s history.

Urle sat to his left, and on his right was Kai Yong Fan of Response, the only two of his command officers he felt the Craton could spare.

“The !Xomyi are a small species, with typical heights between 1 and 1.3 meters, and a weight averaging 35 kilograms,” the instructional AI said.

The image changed to a highly detailed model of a !Xomyi.

“The !Xomyi appear very mammalian.  Evolving from nocturnal, flying ancestors similar to bats on Earth, they used echolocation to hunt.”

The face of the !Xomyi reminded Brooks more of some of the tinier primates on Earth, like a tarsier.  It had very large eyes and small, roundish ears on the sides of its head, which twitched and moved around to face different directions.

“As environmental pressures caused a change from nocturnal to a diurnal lifestyle, the !Xomyi lost this echolocative ability but its vestiges remain in their languages including many click consonants and noises pitched outside of the human range.

“Along with this, the !Xomyi lost the ability to fly.  Though young of the species are capable of gliding for short distances, as they near adulthood this ability is lost altogether, and the wing membranes shrink.  In some cultures of Ko, these membranes are fully removed as a form of ritual body modification as an indication of adulthood.  In others the flaps find new use as decorative surfaces for tattooing or body paint.”

Images showing these different forms appeared next to the original.

The examples varied as much as any historical human culture from across Earth, Brooks thought.  Some wore feathers, their skin and fur in a light shade, almost pink, while others wore shells or leathers, and had darker fur and skin, like the color of wine or raisins.

“Thus far, Humans, Dessei, and Sepht have all interacted with !Xomyi.  In such encounters, they responded most positively to humans and most negatively to Dessei, whose large eyes may be viewed as intimidating.  Reactions to Sepht were more confused, with a higher likelihood of avoidance or threats of violence.  Therefore, teams will all consist of humans.”

The image changed from the !Xomyi to a person sitting on the ground, with a neutral expression.

“When introducing yourself to the !Xomyi, it will be a good idea to sit down, to reduce the height difference.  While a light smile is acceptable, do not show teeth, as this may indicate aggression.”

Brooks raised a hand.  “Do they bare teeth to show aggression?”

“Not that we know,” the AI replied.

“Is our lack of smiling just an assumption based on similarities to Earth mammals, then?”

The AI paused a moment.  “Yes,” it finally answered.

Brooks put his hand down, frowning.

A lot of effort had surely been put into researching the !Xomyi.  But not enough.  They should not be guessing what these beings found aggressive.  The lives of the !Xomyi and the teams tasked with speaking to them hung in the balance.

For a moment he consoled himself thinking how historically people had far less information in other First Contact situations.  Then he recalled how often those relationships had turned bloody and exploitative.

“Will we get a chance to meet any of the !Xomyi that have already come up?” Urle asked.

“Such an action was considered, but for consideration of their health, it was decided against,” the AI replied.  “Now, each of you have been given all available data on the group you will be contacting.  Let us go through a refresher on general First Contact procedures . . .”

Brooks had taken these lessons several times – they were genuinely fascinating.  This time he listened with as fresh a set of ears as he could manage, trying to consider every angle.

This course, he knew, was not theoretical.  First Contacts had occurred, and hard lessons were drawn from each and every one.  Not solely their own contacts; the Bicet were the greatest of diplomats in the Union – the force that had brought the disparate species together.

Their view on such events was not clouded by sentimentality or the weight of a dark imperialist past.  They simply focused on how to achieve the goals of peace and friendly relations.

“The mindset of a new species will be alien to your own.  You must try and understand them through their material conditions first of all.  Their existence was formed by those conditions, and though sapience is not solely bound to the practical, especially at a low level of economy it is a very powerful force.”

And how true that was.  Strip from mankind their technology and they were just animals.  They had basic needs.  That alone was a unifying feature of all life in the universe.

He thought of Shoggoths and Star Angels for a moment.

Well, basic needs were a unifying feature of most life in the universe.

“Despite their culture not being technologically advanced, do not make the mistake of believing that these people are stupid.  Do not underestimate them.  They are a resourceful species, who will have their geniuses, innovators, visionaries and leaders just as we do today.  They will be intimately attuned to their world – they live in it and know nothing else.  We are visitors, and we must treat them with respect if we hope to earn theirs.”

The AI gestured towards the door.  “There are many questions you must have, and among these I know there are considerations of your own health and safety.  For that, I invite Dr. Y to join us.”

Y entered, coming to stand next to the AI projection.

“Greetings,” he said.  “I will not bore you with a long talk and will get directly to the point.  Firstly, while Ko is a world that has a breathable atmosphere, it is actually quite uncomfortable for humans.  The average global temperature is 22 degrees celsius, which is quite warm, though tolerable.  Its atmosphere is also 60% denser than Earth’s and is heavily laden with moisture.  These qualities combined will mean that a human, in normal clothing, will be unable to regulate their internal body temperature.  In other words, you will overheat and die, even if you are inactive in the shade during the day.”

Brooks frowned.  Dark, he hated being hot.

“For this reason, we will be providing all team members with coolsuits.  These suits will keep your body temperature within acceptable ranges, allow your skin to perform all its normal tasks, and they are self-cleaning.  For this reason, we recommend against taking them off for the duration of your stay.  They require minimal power, are quite durable, and your mission batteries will be able to recharge them.

“Beyond that, each group sent to contact a !Xomyi group will be provided with a custom drone that – we hope – the !Xomyi will not find threatening.  It is possible they will view the drone as some type of spirit, and while we should not encourage falsehoods, it may be useful to not correct them on this point.”

Y paused a moment, glancing over the room for nods, then continued.  “These drones are autonomous, can administer basic forms of first aid, and can be recharged from standard atomic batteries.  However, they are also connected to a satellite network we are placing in orbit.  Through these, I will be able to remote-view and control the drones as needed.  That is, you will have me at your disposal, should you need it.”

He sighed.  “I do wish I could be there on a team, but I will be medical liaison for all 2,600 teams going down to the surface.  For that reason, my attention may, at times, be somewhat split.  If there is a major medical emergency, I will do what I can but also call in support on your behalf.”

He held up a metal hand.  “But there is the possibility that we may lose parts of our satellite network through collisions with debris.  If this should happen, I may not be able to reach your drones.  As we come closer to the time of Omen breaking up, this will only grow more likely.  We will attempt to restore lost functionality as quickly as possible.  But the possibility is there.”

Brooks heard a murmur of concern go through the room.

He eyed the people present – he wanted them to see him looking.  Would anyone back out?

The instructional AI’s holographic avatar stepped forward.

“Your individual assignments have been sent to your systems.  Please study them – they contain all relevant information we have on the groups you will be approaching.”

Y spoke again.  “You will be leaving in twenty-four hours for the surface.  I recommend that you all spend some time studying your assignments, and then get as much rest as you can.”

Brooks glanced at his tablet.  He had been assigned to a group that called themselves the !A!amo, on the far side of the Easternmost continent.  It was more of a large island, he thought, bisected by large mountains in the middle.  On one side was a desert that had no permanent !Xomyi inhabitants, but the other side, facing the winds that brought moisture, was a lush rainforest.

He looked at the tab that showed his team.  Besides himself and the drone, it was just-

“Hey, I’m with you,” Kai said, just as he read her name.

“It seems so,” he replied.

“I thought I’d be leading my own team,” she said softly.

“I could pull some strings if you want,” Brooks joked.

“No, no.  I’m your security detail.”  She smiled wryly.  “Great, supervising an arrogant officer, just what I wanted.”

“I’m not sure why I would even need a security detail,” he said.

“I’ve heard a few researchers were attacked,” Kai replied.  “One was reportedly killed.  I can’t confirm that, though.”

Urle leaned over.  “Did you see your times for your operations?”

“What?” Kai asked.

Brooks looked, then raised his hand.  “Doctor, are these operations what I think they are?” he asked.

Y, still standing up front, nodded, clasping his hands behind his back.  “They are, Captain.  I will be seeing you at 0700 tomorrow for your procedure.”

---

< Ep 12 part 2 | Ep 12 part 4 >

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

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“Three months ago, we noticed strange perturbations in the orbit and albedo of the third planet of the Bror System,” Ambassador-General Callirrhoe Abashidze began.

They sat in the Executive Meeting Room, which was much more finely appointed than most; the table was not simply functional, but made of pseudo-wood and embossed with the emblem of the Sapient Union.

“Bror 3’s atmosphere is believed to be capable of supporting human life,” Y said.

“That is correct,” the Ambassador-General replied.  “There were even considerations of investigating it for colonization in the past.  Terris changed that, and so we had no reason to look more deeply at the system.”

“Until you noticed those changes,” Brooks said.

“Yes.  We sent probes, which discovered two important details about the planet, which we now know as Ko.”

Y leaned forward slightly, the significance of the wording not being missed.

“We now know as?” Brooks said, putting words to the thought.  “Is this the native name?”

The Ambassador-General nodded.  “You are correct.  Ko has a native sapient species.”

Urle looked to Brooks excitedly.  “I was wrong, I can’t believe it!  Do we know what they call themselves?  Have we made contact?”

“We have made limited contact,” the Ambassador-General replied.  “We have adopted a name for the species as a whole from the first such group we’ve spoken to, the !Xomyi.”  

The ambassador clicked her tongue for the first part, and Brooks tried saying it himself.

“!-oh-my-ee,” he said slowly, committing it to memory.

“Your pronunciation is good, Captain, speakers of most languages have trouble with alveolar clicks,” Abashidze said.  “While this is only the name for the species from the first group, other groups have responded to it mostly with acceptance, though they of course have their own local names for their people.”

“Sapient species are an incredible rarity,” Urle said.  “So why wasn’t this announced?”

“Because of their state of development,” the Ambassador-General continued.  “The people of Ko are still in an early stage of economy.  Most groups consist of less than 100 individuals, living at a hunting and gathering subsistence level.  Only a few groups in particularly fertile areas have begun to even experiment with agriculture.”

“Incredible,” Urle said.  “But Union policy is to not interfere with species in such a stage.”

“I agree,” Brooks said.  “You said that there was a second major discovery made.  I imagine that is the situation with the moon?”

“Yes,” the Ambassador-General replied.

A holographic image of Ko and its moon appeared.

“We have dubbed the moon ‘Omen’.  It is Ko’s only moon of any size.  The !Xomyi have numerous names for it; it has been highly visible across most of the planet for all of their history.”

“Its chemical makeup suggests that it is a captured planetlet,” Y said.

“We believe so.  It is only barely a geoid, its gravity is weak and we do not have long.”  She sighed.  “Omen is already starting to come apart, and once sizable pieces start to come down, the !Xomyi will be doomed.”

Urle slumped back into his seat.  “It’s going to rain hell on that world when it breaks up,” he said bleakly.

“Yes,” Y agreed.  “It is not a massive object – but it is large enough.”

“I can’t sugarcoat this; we expect total devastation of the biosphere,” the Ambassador-General said, her face grim.  “It will frankly be a miracle if even bacteria survives.”

“From what I have seen, I estimate a thirty-percent chance of survival of at least some microbes in extremely deep locations,” Y said.  “After that, I predict it will be approximately one hundred million years before complex life will re-emerge.”

“So,” Brooks said.  “We are on a mission of mercy.”

“That is correct, Captain.  We have had teams on the ground for the last few months.  Thus far, we have contacted and successfully evacuated around 1,000 !Xomyi from two dozen bands.”

“How many !Xomyi are there?” Urle asked.

“We estimate there are 1.7 million across Ko,” the Ambassador-General said.  “Split into approximately 21,000 bands.”

Brooks took a moment, feeling a cold helplessness wash over him.

This was a colossal number.  If one had a few large carriers, it was doable – but getting them up off the surface was the problem.

Ko had no infrastructure.  Every lift-off would have to be with heavy rocket boosters.

He did not need fantastic math skills to know they didn’t have enough time.

And that was if the !Xomyi could even be convinced to leave.

“Where will we put the people we bring up?” Brooks asked.  “Your cruiser and the Craton won’t be enough.”

Ambassador Abashidze nodded.  “We have a heavy transport heading this way.  Unlike the Craton, it will take at least a month to get here.  It is being modified en route according to the best data we’ve gathered, and they’ll be able to feed half a million !Xomyi for a year on board the ship.”

“Half a million,” Urle said.  “Is that all we can hope to get off?  I was hoping we might have more cavalry coming.”

“You are the cavalry, Executive Commander,” the Ambassador-General said.  “The Union has been doing everything it can to get what we need, but our next supply ship is due in six weeks.  They will only have a fraction of the boosters that we would need for a full evacuation of their population.  The majority of the Union’s planetary-lift rockets are tied up in colony-relief efforts and can’t be drawn out of circulation and brought here fast enough, nor can we amp up production in such a short time frame.”

“It is a difficult situation,” Y said.  “But I believe there is another problem.”

Ambassador Abashidze nodded, and Brooks knew where they were headed.

“This is the other reason I wanted you, Captain,” she said.  “You have a reputation for high-stress diplomatic situations and a very good head for command.  We have over two thousand diplomats here, and yet it is still not enough.  I need everyone who stands a chance of success to go down to Ko, and help us convince the !Xomyi that they have to leave their homes forever.”

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< Ep 12 part 1 | Ep 12 part 3 >