Episode 8 – Showing the Flag, part 6

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


Screams and the clash of weapons reach a fever pitch, and a warrior stumbles into the throne room of King Breon, his intestines slipping out despite his desperate attempts to hold them in.

He nearly reaches his king, reaching out a hand imploringly before falling to the floor.

Ussa enters.

Breon:

I see now, my daughter, that you have turned upon me.

The men who would not swear their sword to you lie dead and cold upon the uncaring Earth.

Why is it that you do this?

What has turned you on your own kin?

Ussa:

Oh Father I once cherished;

Why shouldn’t I?

You have grown weak in your old age.  Your enemies, long defeated, now act openly against you.  Your vassals and client states openly rebel and leave you.

You can only hold onto what your hands can reach, but your reach has grown short.

And worse, you hold mine own hands back when they reach for victory.

Breon:

And this?

This is reason enough for treason against your father?

Your king?

You are not the daughter I raised!

Ussa:

Oh how blind you are, Father!

You raised a daughter and told her you stood for noble causes.

Yet all you did was take what you wished and used those claims to justify the sword and pillage.

Your high ideals, lofty as they sound, were only air.

Now your sails are empty

and you have not even the strength to furl them.

Breon collapses to his knees.

Breon:

What will you do now then?  After you have slain me?

Ussa:

I have learned well from your knee, father.

I will follow the destiny manifest before me.

I shall conquer those places that you could not.

I will take all for my own, and what I cannot have will be ash.

All is mine, even your life.


Sending an entrance request, Apollonia shifted from foot to foot.

She’d done some orientations, but this was the first time she was going to meet her Response tutor.

After her . . . lack of performance during battle, when she’d panicked and not been of any use to anyone, Jaya had suggested she get a proper trainer.

A message came through; “Enter.”

The door whooshed open, and she stepped in – stopping just as quickly as she looked around the room.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Sim Chamber,” the woman at the center of the room said.

Apollonia had been told that it was Sergeant Kiseleva, but she hadn’t actually put together that it was the Response officer from the bar fight who had picked her up off the floor.

She approached the woman, who was wearing a full space suit rig, minus the helmet.

“We’re not . . . doing vacuum training, are we?” Apollonia asked nervously.

Kiseleva shook her head.  “No.  But we are going to train in zero-g.”

She pointed.  “Go through that door and suit up – all except the helmet.  Then we will turn the gravity to null and activate the program.”

Apollonia was not sure what she meant by the program, but went to obey.

She was still nervous, but she would don the suit.  Last time she’d worn one with a helmet she’d thrown up and choked.

Coming back out, Kiseleva threw something to her.  When she looked at it, she saw it was a face shield on a head strap – essentially just the front screen of a normal suit helmet.

Putting it on, the screen lit up with a Heads-Up Display – but rather than just giving a readout, it showed a false world superimposed over the real.

She recoiled at first – such augmented reality was normal for most people who could use ocular implants, but she never could use them.  Even besides that, few were so realistic and complete; over the reality of the room, she saw distant stars, and the deck beneath them looked more like the outside of a ship.

It almost made her dizzy, but she reached out and touched a wall, feeling reinforced by its solidity.

“Don’t worry yet.  First we’re going to use the room without the full overlay,” Kiseleva told her.

“So what will we do?” Apollonia asked.

Kiseleva moved her hand in the air, clearly operating some controls in her HUD and the space overlay in Apollonia’s HUD disappeared.  She only saw the room now, but with certain areas highlighted, colored spots on random areas of the walls and ceilings.

The gravity suddenly disappeared, her boots turning magnetic and her suit back stiffening so she could walk.

“We will play a game to start,” Kiseleva told her.  “When an area of the room lights up, I want you to float over to it.”

“That’s it?”

“For now,” Kiseleva replied.

All the panels that had been glowing turned off, save one.  Apollonia’s HUD flashed arrows to tell her where it was.  Turning, she pushed off the floor, aiming for the spot.

Her aim wasn’t perfect but she reached it without difficulty.  A metal handrail came out of the wall and she grabbed onto it, stopping her momentum with one foot.

She looked back to Kiseleva.  “What next?”

“Next spot,” Kiseleva told her.

Locating it, Apollonia floated over there.  They did it a third time, then Kiseleva added a new instruction.

“I want you to get there faster, rest as short a time as possible, then locate the next square and get to it.”

“Am I on a timer?  If I fail do I get ejected from the ship?” she joked.

“We’re training so that if you were out there you might not die,” Kiseleva told her calmly.

Apollonia did a double-take, then nodded.

The next section appeared and she jumped over to it, found the next and reached it.

“Good.  Now faster.”

They did it again.  Apollonia tried to give herself a stronger push, started trying to find the next square before she reached the first.

“Faster,” Kiseleva said.

She pushed harder, on the second jump slamming into the wall hard enough that her shoulder hurt.

“Better,” Kiseleva said.  “Now – don’t stop until you reach the last spot – it will be red.”

“All right.”

“That’s yes, ma’am or sir,” Kiseleva barked.

Apollonia felt an immediate resistance to saying that, but sucked up her ego.  “Yes, ma’am.”

They started.  Apollonia found that by the third jump she was going slower than the pattern.  It started to fade before she got off it, and by the time she reached the next it had faded entirely.

She looked to Kiseleva, puzzled.

“Find the next one and go!” the woman commanded.

Apollonia felt a sense of panic well up inside her, looking around for the next colored spot.

“Do not panic.  You are fine right now.  Take a moment if you need it, collect yourself, then keep going,” Kiseleva said.  “Right now is the time of practice and building confidence.”

Fine, then.  Apollonia took a deep breath and looked around.  Finding the latest colored area, she pushed over to it.

Twice more she got out of synch, but stopped and found where to go next.  It did get easier.

But it was also exhausting after awhile; her legs were starting to be sore and she had worked up quite a sweat in her suit.

“Stop,” Kiseleva called.  “Come on back down.”

“How’d I do, coach?” Apollonia asked after she landed near the woman.  She felt rather good with herself.

“You did fine,” Kiseleva said.  “You’ve gone an hour, and we will call that for today.”

“Really?  That was actually kind of fun,” Apollonia said.

“I wanted you to get more confidence moving in zero-g.  Tomorrow, we will do it with helmets on.”

Apollonia knew she must have gone pale.

“We will still have atmosphere and you will have vents on the side.  But this will help you get used to it.”

“Okay,” Apollonia said, nervously.  But she did want to do this.  She wanted to – not because Kiseleva was just making her do it or because Jaya wanted her to do it.

She focused on that as she took the suit off.


< Ep 8 Part 5 | Ep 8 Part 7 >

Episode 4 – Home, part 26 and 27

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


When Apollonia woke up in her small, but comfortable, room, sunlight was streaming in through the window.

She jumped out of bed, showering and pulling on a fresh outfit, she tapped the ‘summon’ button on her tablet a dozen times to bring the drone – which should have a nickname, she thought, and decided on Beauford before reaching the door.  It sounded like a very Earthy name.

Beauford was waiting patiently, hovering just outside.

She paused.  He looked different, she thought.  The shape of the covers over his thrusters.

“Are you Beauford?” she asked.  “I mean – the drone that’s been with me this whole time?”

“I have switched out the bodies I control three times since we met – when we reached the Orbital Ring, during the descent to Earth from orbit, and just this morning.  I am, however, the same artificial intelligence that you first met on Korolev Station, and you may call me Beauford if you wish.”

She hesitated, taking that in.

“All right,” she said.  “Come with me, I want to go outside.”

The storm had cleared, and the sky was nearly empty, only tiny whisps of clouds streaking across it far up.

As she looked up, her eyes watered, the light far brighter than she was accustomed to.

It took her some time to adjust, and as she did, she began to grasp the immensity of . . . sky.

It was absurd; she’d grown up in space, which was truly infinite.  But she’d really only ever been in tunnels and rooms and at most a docking area with a high ceiling.

She’d never been out . . . in the open.  Not truly.

Her knees buckled under her as she saw just how the horizon seemed to extend forever.  Nothing above her head, and she felt sickeningly dwarfed by it.

The blueness of the sky was more vivid than she could ever have imagined, and through tears streaming down her face, she just stared up into it.

“Your eyes may be harmed if you look at the sun,” Beauford told her.  “Please refrain.”

“I don’t want to look at the sun,” she said, squinting hard.  “Just the sky.”

“Anablephobia, or fear of looking up at the sky, is a very real thing.  If you are experiencing anxiety, then please look down at your feet and-“

“Shush,” she told the drone.

It fell silent, and she continued to stare up at the sky for a long time.  Occasionally people went in or came out through the doors nearby, and some watched her curiously.  But she didn’t care, because she was seeing the sky.

Someone came up next to her and stopped, triggering her to potential danger.

Looking down, she saw it was the same young man who had been on her trip down to the surface.

“My first time seeing the sky, too,” he said.  Tears were coming out of his eyes, but from his squinting she thought it was from the brightness more than emotion.  “How can you stand how bright it is?”

“It hurts,” she admitted.

He shifted uncomfortably, and she knew that he was having second thoughts about coming to talk to her, now that he was feeling that strange aspect of her presence.

“I, uh, wish you the best,” he said, stepping back.

Or maybe, a part of her wondered, he was just awkward and nervous.

“Hey,” she said.  “What are you gonna go see?”

“The Grand Canyon,” he said, smiling.  “It’s the biggest one on Earth!”

She nodded, though she wondered why he’d want to see more rock when . . . well, rock was the most nature they usually got to see in space.  Though it was pretty much lifeless rock.  Maybe on Earth the rocks were more . . .  alive.

“Do you want to come?” he asked.  “Would be nice to see it with somebody.”

She studied him for a long moment.  He looked around her own age, so it wasn’t that weird.  But he had a boyish naivete that seemed too genuine.

Still, she was not about to go off with a stranger on a strange world.

Though part of her was a bit flattered.

“I’m going somewhere else,” she finally said.

His face went crestfallen, but he accepted what she said with merely a nod.  “Okay.  Best of luck in the future . . . Oh, I didn’t get your name.”

“Apollonia Nor,” she said.  “But . . . you could call me Apple.”

“Oh, that’s cute – Nor, that’s a real spacer name,” he said, perking up.  “I’m Matyáš Svoboda of Ceres.  My name is still pretty stock Earth, my people only left about a hundred years ago.”

“Why did they leave?” she asked.

“Just . . . wanted to see space, I guess.  I can’t understand it – but they did it, and now it’s the first time I’ve been on-world.”

He shifted on his feet.  “I’ve got to go.  What, ah . . . what station or system do you live in?  I can only send regular slow-wave messages that take a few weeks, but maybe I could write you?”

She felt her cheeks flush, and she must have stared at him like he was crazy, because he quickly began to back-track.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” she said.  “Matyáš?  All right.  But I don’t live on a station, I’m on a ship – the Craton.”

His eyes widened.  “The Craton?”

“You’ve heard of it?” she asked.

“It’s one of the most famous ships.  The first made in a Cratonic asteroid – oh stars, what’s it like?”

She considered.  “It’s nice, I guess?  But I don’t have much for comparison.  I lived in a crappy colony out on the fringe before that, so everything about the Sapient Union seems pretty nice.”

The young man was looking at her with awe, and it made her look away, her cheeks feeling warm.

“You don’t mind if I message you?” he asked again.

“No,” she said.  Her eyebrows crunched together in thought, and she then asked; “but honestly, aren’t you uncomfortable around me?  Most people are.”

“I don’t know,” he replied.  “I thought it was just butterflies because you’re pretty.”

She laughed, too harshly perhaps, because he looked hurt.  Part of her wanted to apologize, but she also felt a resistance inside because he was frankly being a little too sensitive.

The door opened, and someone called him, beckoning.  “We’re getting ready to board!” they said.

“I need to get going,” Matyáš said to her.  “I’ll message you later,” he promised, turning and running off.

Apollonia watched after him for a few moments, before turning to Beauford, who she thought was watching her a little judgmentally.

Shaking that off, she put her mind back on the matter at hand.

“I want to go see that forest,” she told it.


“God, this is so much smaller than I remember,” Alexander said as the light came on in his bedroom.

Pirra looked around curiously.  Something about his room had always fascinated her.  He always said that it wasn’t much different from when he’d lived here – his parents had cleaned it, but not  changed a thing.

Almost every part of the far wall was covered in posters, all carefully tiled to maximize the space used.

On one side of the room they were mostly reference charts for genetics and plants, with no pictures and just lots of tiny, neat text listing information.

But the other side was a riot of color.  She recognized the style of art – it was all Dessei, all replicas of famous pieces of cultural value.

She noticed that Alex caught her gaze, and she focused more intently on the art.

“Do you have to critique my pics every time we come here?” he asked, rolling his eyes and not really upset.

“Yes,” she teased.  “I still don’t know why you have Teippe’s ‘Into the Garden of the Sky’ and Ullo’s ‘Riot against the Reason of the Collective’ next to each other.”

“It’s the juxtaposition of their views that I find interesting,” Alexander said.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, still scrutinizing them.

“What kind of art did you have on your wall?”

“Human art,” she replied.  “I loved the constructivist works – I had a huge rendition of El Lissitzky’s ‘Proun Vrashchenia’ as a centerpiece.”

“Constructivist?  Wow, you like the old stuff . . .”

She smiled, and took in the rest of his art.  He actually had impeccable tastes; he truly was fascinated with her people’s culture and history – sometimes he even corrected her.  History had never been her strong suit.

She recalled when they’d first met; he’d given her a practice greeting in her own language.  He didn’t sound good – but he tried so hard, and for the sounds a human could make it was a good shot.  To say she’d been amused was an understatement.

It helped that she’d always found humans interesting.  She’d read up on their history, though admittedly she was not really as educated in his people’s history as he was in hers.  Dessei really did not generally like to look back at their own past, let alone that of others.

Too much blood and anger for it to be advisable, she thought.

“So . . .” Alexander asked.  “How is my dad’s work going?”

Pirra blinked, her mind elsewhere.  “Oh?  It seemed . . . to be going well.  But you could just ask him?”

“I might,” he said.  “But did you think he was doing things safely?”

She hesitated.  Her first reaction was to say that yes, of course he was.  But it . . . was more wishful thinking on her part.

She felt a creeping guilt; she’d encouraged some rather reckless behaviour.  The plasma shell that had misfired could have potentially gone off in the launcher and killed or maimed someone.

“He’s somewhat loose on the safety standards,” she finally said.  Pride compelled her to say more.  “But I don’t think he’s being irresponsible.”

It was just excitement about her arrival that caused him to make the error he made, she justified, squirming a bit inside.

But tomorrow she’d definitely ask him about his safety equipment and operations . . .  Perhaps give him some pointers.

Alexander did not look convinced.  “That’s good,” he muttered.

It always struck her as odd that Alex was so bothered by his father’s research, but he never seemed bothered when she had a sidearm.

“Hey,” Alexander suddenly said.  He’d sat down at his desk.  “Here’s my notes from when I was learning Fusshe.”

She came over and peered over his shoulder.  Fusshe was the dominant writing system of Dessei, a standardized syllabary that every child learned in school.

“Oh, that’s so cute!” she said, looking at the digital sheet.  “It looks just like any kid’s writing in school!”

He laughed.  “I had such a hard time remembering that squiggle in the corner of Kru.”

She chuckled.  “Everyone does, it’s a stupid one that we barely use anymore because it sounds like we’re swallowing pebbles.”

She noticed a hint of an image showing through from the next page.  “What’s that?”  Reaching over his shoulder, she swiped the page, bringing up the next page.

Alexander turned pink.  It was a sketch – not even a very good one – of a Dessei.

“I started drawing, and, well . . .”

Pirra saw there were more, and flipped on.  This wasn’t just sketches, these were . . . a character.  The same character!  They were all a specific female, he’d really emphasized the crest differences.  And for some reason he’d made the bony points on the chest where the vestigial wingbones pressed out much more rounded.  Like a human female’s breasts.

Suddenly she stopped.  Alexander tensed.

“Oh my god, you were a nerd,” she said, tousling his hair and laughing.  “You were drawing a girlfriend!”

“I was not!” he said.

“What was her name?” she asked.

“She didn’t have a name!”

“Yes she did.  You came up with a story for her, I bet.  Did you write stories, too?”

Alexander’s face was entirely red, and she stood back, still amused.  She’d always known that his interest in her people bordered on . . . what people might consider weird.

But then, they’d said the same thing about her interest in humans.

“I imagined I’d meet a human with a big beard,” she said.  “Crazy long, down to his knees.”

“What?  You never told me this!”  Alexander stroked his chin.  “Why a beard?”

“Because they’re really exotic,” she said, sitting down on his bed.

“I could grow a beard,” he muttered.

“Ah,” she said dismissively.  “That doesn’t matter now.  It was just a childish thought I once had . . . just like your pretend girl there.”

“Her name was Lumii,” Alexander muttered.

“I knew it,” Pirra chirped, putting her hands behind her head.


< Ep 4 Part 25 | Ep 4 Parts 28 & 29 >

Episode 3 – Trauma part 60

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


“And here we are again, Nor,” Dr. Y said.  “I admit, you had me quite worried when you showed up here bleeding from every orifice.  Yet now you are as healthy as you can be.”  He paused.  “Though I believe it would be healthier if you gained some weight.”

“Do you have to say orifice?” she asked.  “I hate that word.”

“If the name of medical exactitude, it serves a function.  I could use other terms that are more colloquial, but they may be equally objectionable,” Y said.  “Or even list off the . . .  apertures . . . in question.  Nostrils, ears-“

“You know what?” she said.  “Orifice is fine.”

“Excellent,” Dr. Y replied.  “Now, as happy as I always am to see you, I must encourage you to move about your own day.  Unfortunately, I am quite busy.”

Y looked around, then leaned closer and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.  “The medical staff from the Chain are far from healthy!  How absurd – doctors taking poor care of themselves!  They should know better.”

Apollonia smiled and let out a small laugh.  “Well, they’re busy . . . do you take good care of yourself?”

Y paused, studying her.  “I do not have a physical condition to consider, unless you count these bodies, and the automated systems keep them in quite good repair.  Mentally?  Well, I would not say that my kind have a healthy norm, as we are all quite individual and unique.  But . . . to answer the spirit of your question, I believe I do.”

“Keep away from the smoke and the drugs, doctor,” Apollonia said, jumping lightly off the bed.

“That I shall,” he promised.  “Oh, and Nor-“

“Yes?”

“I am glad you have decided to stay on the ship.”

She stared for a moment.  “Thanks,” she said.  “Can I ask you one last thing?”

“Of course,” he replied amiably.  His head continued to face her, but his body turned away, moving with extreme efficiency to disinfect the surfaces she’d just been touching.

“You’ve been busy since we got to the Chain, haven’t you?” she asked.

“Since before, even,” he said.  “I’ve actually been working 24 hours a day since the Craton reached New Vitriol.  There has been much work, and much has been accomplished.  I am pleased.”

“Do you ever get tired?” she asked.

He paused again.  “I do,” he said.  “I have told you I am fallible.  I can suffer from exhaustion, even burnout.  I . . . have before.  You asked me if I was healthy, and well – I do try.  Because in the past I have failed at caring for my own well-being, and it came to the detriment of others as well as myself.”

She nodded soberly.  “I hope you can rest, soon,” she said.

“Thank you, Nor,” he replied.

“When you came to talk to me in place of Dr. Logus, that was a sacrifice for you, wasn’t it?”

“I would not phrase it thusly, but – in a sense, yes, I had to place other tasks aside.”

Apollonia was shocked.  “And you’re not even a psychiatrist, are you?  It’s not part of your duty?”

“No . . .” Y replied.

“Why did you do that for me?”

He hesitated, then turned fully towards her and spread his hands open.

“Because you are my friend, Nor.”


Urle came to attention.

“Executive Commander reporting for return to duty, sir,” he said.

“At ease,” Brooks told him.  “It’s good to have you back, Zach.”

“I’m glad that I can do something again,” the man said.  “But . . . I do appreciate the time you gave me, sir.”

Brooks gave his old friend a nod.  “I’ve sent your schedule to your system.  Right now I’ve got you taking second watch and after that you’ll function as liaison with the commander of the emigrants from the Chain.”

Urle nodded.  “All right.  May I ask, Captain – what was it that happened on MS-29?”

Brooks took a breath.  “I am still not at liberty to tell you, Zach, I’m sorry.  I know you’d like to understand more – I would as well.  But we know very little.”

“I know it had to do with things related to zerospace,” Zach said.  “Does Kell know more?  Is he still keeping quiet on all this?  He’s never very up front . . .”

Brooks let out a long breath.  “Ambassador Kell is in much deeper than usual, I’ll say that much.  To be honest . . . I’m not sure what’s going to happen with it.  Director Freeman-“

“I’m sorry, Captain – Freeman was here?”

“Yes,” Brooks told him.  “That part is public record, as he came in Research One.  But I can’t say more than that, save for the fact that he is very displeased with how things went.  Or . . . was.  I feel like there are internal politics games going on here, to be honest.”

A beep alerted him to a message.

“That’s top priority from Earth,” Zach noted, recognizing the tone.

Brooks nodded, his brow furrowing in concern.  “Just text,” he said, bringing it up.

His eyes scanned over it, and then he looked back to Urle, his expression only growing more solemn.

“We’ve been summoned back to the Sol System,” he said.  “Back to Earth.  It seems that Director Freeman has seen fit to charge me with insubordination and dereliction of duty.”


< Ep 3 Part 59 | Episode 4 Part 1 >

Episode 3 – Trauma part 59

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


Standing in the doorway to Jaya’s office, Apollonia knocked on the wall to get her attention.

The commander turned around to face her.

“You know, the system informed me that you were here.  You do not need to knock on my wall.”

“Just habit,” Apollonia replied absently.  “But I came down here to . . . well, to tell you that I’ve decided to accept the offer you guys made.  Well, the Captain, and I guess you.  You guys want me to join up and all that . . .”

Her words tumbled out, and her sentence trailed off.

Jaya arched an eyebrow.  “You seem uncertain, Ms. Nor.”

“No, I’m not!” she said.  “Honestly I feel this is right.  I just . . . Maybe it’s pride.  I feel like I’m giving in or something, by doing this.  But I’ve thought about it a lot – along with a few other things – over the last few days.  I know you wanted an answer more promptly than this, but I do want to have more control over my life.  While I know I’ll be accepting some new restrictions by joining, I also think it will help give me the tools to control myself better.”

Jaya listened, her face passive but attentive, and Apollonia rambled on, not meeting the other woman’s eye.

“I wake up and I don’t know how to take care of myself beyond simply existing.  I grew up with just making it through that day being the goal.  I can’t even keep a steady sleep schedule, I don’t think about trying to be my best.”

She let out a breath, and turned to look Jaya squarely on.  “I need structure.  And help.  But I’m ready to do something, to be part of something.”

Jaya rose slowly to her feet, and held out her hand.

“Welcome to the crew, Apollonia.”


Now two days out from the death of Michal Denso, the situation around Medical Station 29 finally seems to be returning to a semblance of normalcy.

After claiming possession of Denso’s body, Director Freeman’s ship departed early in the morning watch.   He left no standing orders or communications with either myself or Admiral-Doctor Urle before doing so, leaving me to wonder just what the long-term repercussions will be.  I am as content with my conduct – and Verena’s conduct – as I can be whenever the issue pertains to Leviathans.

Response Team One’s return only a few hours ago was a relief, and Dr. Logus has reported that his initial talks with Lt. Commander Caraval suggest he has suffered no lasting damage – but that the man should be temporarily removed from command of the team.  I have agreed to this suggestion, and will be giving Caraval at least two weeks of recovery time before we consider his return to duty.

Dr. Logus and I . . .  I have considered that I owe him an apology for my conduct.  I have, at times, viewed him in an adversarial light when I should be better than that.

It is something to think on.

At 0800 we will be leaving the Chain.  Though we came here to bring life and safety to the helpless of New Vitriol, we leave with ten thousand and seven hundred who are seeking better lives.

It is time to bring them home.


< Ep 3 Part 58 | Ep 3 Part 60 >

Episode 3 – Trauma part 58

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


“Verena, thank god you’re okay . . .” Zach said.

His eyes were visible today, and his eyebrows angled inwards in a way that she recognized as being very strong concern.

She wasn’t sure why he was concerned now, though.  It was over, and she had a clean bill of health.

“My condition was never serious, it was only a precaution,” she told him.

“I had no idea what was going on,” Zach said.  “They tell me that you went into a room filled with krahteons and . . . something.  They won’t say what, but then you were unconscious and put in the ICU.”

“It was nothing.  Apollonia’s presence evidently creates an area of safety.  Though I do not know how.”

Zach said nothing for a time, and she was content to let the silence linger.  She was still feeling weak, truth be told, but it was fading and she was going to be discharged in a few hours.

“When you’re up to it, I think we need to talk about the kids,” Zach said, breaking the peace.

Ah, she saw now . . .  this was still weighing heavily on his mind.

And now that he had brought it up, she knew it was important.

For years, as much as she tried, she had wanted to feel that spark, the love for her children that every mother was supposed to have.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love them.  She simply felt nothing.

But she knew she was supposed to.  She could recall memories of looking at them, that at those times emotions had been so strong in her that she had barely been able to take it.

She looked again, now, hoping for that little spark she had felt earlier of humor.

And she realized she was hoping.

“Verena?” Zach asked, seeing a change come over her face.

It was gone already.  The feeling left as quickly as it had come.  It hadn’t been love, it hadn’t been frustration.  Just a slight, vague sense of hope.

It was . . . something.

“We can talk about it now,” she said to him.

“I . . .  I don’t think we can move onto the station as you wanted,” Zach said.  “I’m sorry, but-“

“It’s all right,” she said, putting a hand up to his face.  His mouth was covered by a triangular plate, and she brushed her fingertips over it.

She hadn’t wanted to hear his reasons.  Even though she knew they’d be correct.

“It isn’t a good idea,” she admitted.  “For many reasons.  For their happiness, for your career, for . . . for my patients,” she said.  It was unusually difficult to speak, and she was not sure why.  Was this a spark of emotion?  On some level?

She didn’t know.  She wasn’t sure she’d even recognize them when they came.  If they kept coming.

“Perhaps one day, it will be different,” she continued softly.

“There may still be options to help you,” Zach said.  “I know you’ve had surgeries and treatments, but artificial emotion chips are becoming better and better-“

“Shh,” she said softly.  “There is . . . a chance they might work, Zach.  But I doubt it . . . and . . . something I’ve realized is that . . .”

She looked up and met Zach’s eyes.  There were tears in them.

“I’ve realized that my condition allows me to do this job,” she said.  “A job that no one else can handle.  Exactly what has broken me as a person allows me to thrive here, and help many, many people.”

She pulled her hand away from his face, looking to her own.  “And as much as I could walk away, how much I might want to, if I felt . . . I’d still remember all that I’ve seen.  And I do not know if I could live with the pain.”

Zach said nothing.  The tears welling in his eyes had broken free, coursing down his face.

Again a silence fell, and Zach wept, shaking for her and himself and their daughters.

Verena did not like it.  But she did not look away, and she knew that he might be somewhat comforted if she put her hand on his.

And after a time, it seemed to have helped, she thought.

“I . . . I should go,” he said, after some time.

She could tell from his face and eyes that he was still overwhelmed.  But he would make it through, she knew.  He was strong enough.

“Goodbye, Zachariah,” she said to him.

“Goodbye, Verena.”

Zach rose and left the room, glancing back at her once, with an expression she could not decipher.

Then he was gone.

It was for the best.


< Ep 3 Part 57 | Ep 3 Part 59 >

Episode 3 – Trauma part 57

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


“This is your failure, Brooks!  I tasked you with keeping Denso alive, and you could not even do that!” Director Freeman all-but screamed.

Brooks said nothing, watching the man with a strange calmness.

At first, when he had arrived, Brooks had felt some measure of guilt.  He had been given orders, and though the orders were wrong, he had failed to carry them out.  It wasn’t that he was a slave to anyone above him who gave a command, but he had, for all of his career, prided himself on being a good officer.

But that feeling had evaporated as Director Freeman went on his warpath.

Since his arrival and learning of Michal Denso’s death, the man had harangued everyone he’d encountered, from the ensign who had brought him to Brooks’s office, to the doctors of MS-29, to Brooks himself.

“I am unable to prevent death, Director,” Brooks said calmly.  “Denso’s condition is one we do not understand.”

“Spare me your excuses,” Freeman sneered.  “I should never have entrusted you with this, Brooks.  You’re as unstable and inconsistent as the day you were first given a command.  I knew then-“

Brooks felt a heat of anger rise through him.  His own career had been a difficult one, and Freeman had been as clear then as he was being now about his view of placing command into Brooks’s hands.  But it still angered him.

Still, he thought, he was glad to take the heat in place of Verena.  After all she had been through, today and in the past, it was all he could do to spare her this.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have bothered her, he thought, entirely tuning out Freeman’s rant.  But it was his penance for failing to protect her when she had been under his command in the past.  A bill he’d never been able to pay.  This wasn’t much, but it was something.

Freeman was still talking to him, and Brooks occasionally nodded.  While he rarely did anyone the disservice of tuning them out, he’d learned early that he was very good at making people think he was listening to them.

“I think, Director, you had unrealistic expectations,” Brooks said.  “From what I have been told, Michal Denso could not be euthanized by normal means.  How, then, were we to know by what means he could be kept alive if his condition worsened.”

The man scowled, his lips pulling back from his teeth as he prepared another tirade.

His behaviour was uncouth, to say the least.  Shocking in most systems of the Sapient Union, to show this much anger.  But Freeman had always been an odd case, standing out from the others in government.  He was from a colony where emotional outbursts were viewed as much more normal, but even in that light he took it to an extreme.

An alert beeped.

Brooks cleared his throat.  “Ambassador Kell is at the door, Director, requesting to come in.”

“The Ambassador?”  Freeman repeated.  His previous words died on his lips without a second thought.  “Oh, very well . . . let him in.”

He knew that Freeman had a fascination with Shoggoths, though apparently there had been . . . incidents between him and them before that left the man with a dislike of them.  But he often seemed to find an excuse to interact with them anyway, in his interests of advancing his understanding of zerospace.

The door opened and Kell came in.

Something about him seemed diminished, Brooks thought immediately.  Like a man who had been starved and had just started to move about again.  His strength not yet fully recovered.

But Freeman did not seem to have noticed.

“Ah, Ambassador.  To what do we owe the-“

“I understand you are upset over Michal Denso’s death,” Kell interrupted.

Freeman said nothing for a moment, mulling the words over.  “You might say that,” he finally answered.

“Evidently you wished to . . . study him,” Kell continued.

“This is not your concern, Ambassador.  But yes, the man was a potential source of great knowledge-“

“That was foolish,” Kell said.  “You dabble like a child in something you can barely understand.”

“We understand more than you think, Ambassador,” Freeman hissed back.

“No,” Kell corrected.  “You are capable of only barely understanding it, in the theoretical.  Currently, you know nothing about it.  You are a fool, staggering in the dark, and you keep insist on yelling.”  Kell shook his head in the most blatant expression of disgust Brooks had seen him make.  “You make yourselves prey through your actions.  And you wonder why events like Terris happen?”

The last part shocked Brooks as much as Freeman.

“How dare you, Ambassador-“

“I am not finished,” Kell said, his voice booming.  “You have come onto this ship and are blaming Captain Brooks for the death of Denso?  That is absurd.  Brooks could no more have caused the death of the thing you refer to as Michal Denso than he could return to the Earth by walking.”

“Ambassador, this conversation is finished!” Freeman said.

“I killed Michal Denso,” Kell said, meeting Freeman’s eyes with an unblinking stare.  “You may ask Dr. Urle when she awakens.  Or Apollonia Nor.  They will tell you – though I was not present physically, I was there.  And I alone deserve the . . . supposed burden of guilt of saving you from your own stupidity.”

Freeman’s jaw dropped.

“You . . . you what?”

“I killed the thing that had taken over Michal Denso’s body.  It was not that human; he was barely a shadow of his former self.  What you wished to study, and I believe you knew this – was an infant Great One.”

A deathly silence filled the air between the three.  Freeman stared at Kell, only blinking occasionally.  Kell stared back, his eyes never blinking.

“So,” Freeman finally said, his voice a hoarse whisper.  “He was an embrion.”

“You should hope that you never find another,” Kell told him.  “Because next time, I may not be there to prevent you from destroying yourself.  Or I may not care to.”

Freeman turned, slowly, back to Brooks.  “Captain.  Give my regards to Dr. Urle.”

Brooks arched an eyebrow.  “You’re not staying, Director?”

“I must return to Sol,” he said, his voice distracted.  “Once my people have finished packing up Denso’s corpse.”

“If Michal Denso has family,” Brooks said.  “His body should be returned to them.”

Freeman did not spare a glance or reply, as he swept from the room.

Kell did not turn to watch him, only watching Brooks.

When the man was gone, Brooks returned his look.

“Is that true, Ambassador?  You killed Michal Denso?”

Kell turned slowly, moving towards the door.  “Your friend is very loud, Captain.  I should hope he learns to lower his voice.”

“Is he shouting into the dark often, then?” Brooks asked.

Kell stopped, his back to him, and shuddered.  “There is a stink upon him.  He believes he merely inquires, but he is disturbing things that your kind should never disturb.  It will have consequences.  I do not know the timescale, but it will be.”

Brooks steepled his fingers.  “I still regret the last time I shouted into the dark,” he said.

“That is because,” Kell replied, as the door opened and he stepped out.  “You are a wise man, Captain.”


< Ep 3 Part 56 | Ep 3 Part 58 >

Episode 3 – Trauma part 56

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


Verena’s eyes opened, and she realized she was in a hospital bed.

It had been seven years since she had lain in one, but she remembered this view of the ceiling, and how it had grown so tiresome.  If she’d been capable of it anymore, she surmised she might have even hated it.

It was disconcerting to be laying like this again, and for several terrible moments she wondered if the last several years had been a dream, if she had never left that bed.  If she was still just a patient at Medical Station 29, one with no hope of anything close to normality ever again.

The memories came flooding back to her then; of Michal Denso, of Apollonia Nor, and of . . . how it had ended.

She sat up quickly.

She had felt terror.  Not going in and seeing Denso, risking her life.  Not in confronting that, no.  She had felt it at the end, when Ambassador Kell had . . .

Emotions.  She had actually felt them again.  The bizarre feelings she’d had during that whole encounter, she realized now, had been feelings returning to her.

But only for a time.

Already, the feel of emotions was fading.  That terror she had felt, perhaps the strongest of all, was just a hollow shell of its former self.  She could poke and prod at the memory, try to elicit the same response, any response from herself.

But she could not bring it back.

It was not her, she could only guess.  It had been whatever form of contact she had made with Apollonia.  Perhaps . . . they were not even her feelings.  Through whatever strange power that woman had, perhaps her emotions had bled over, into her.

It was a simple explanation.  In some ways, perhaps easier than thinking she had herself, for at least a moment, been a whole person again.

Dr. Genson came in.  The man’s face was a profusion of emotions, and at the moment she was so tired that she could not even make herself begin to decipher them.

“What has happened?” she asked.

The man was pale, sweating, and stumbled over his words as he spoke.

“You collapsed and Apollonia Nor brought you out – with the help of Commander Jaya.  Um . . . Michal Denso . . . is dead.  He’s no longer exhibiting any unusual behaviour – no krahteons, even his mass seems to have turned into . . . well, what we would expect for a man his size.”

Idly, she thought that she’d have to start searching for Genson’s replacement soon.  Even besides his betrayal, he was getting too worn down by this job.  It happened to everyone, eventually.  Any species, of any make-up, no one could work on The Chain forever.

Almost no one, perhaps.

“I see,” she said.  “How long have I been unconscious?”

“Three hours, ma’am,” Genson replied.  “Director Freeman arrived an hour ago, and he is . . . livid is an understatement.  He said that he is going to push for your dismissal, though I don’t see how as you didn’t actually do anything to Denso in there . . .”

“Where is Apollonia Nor?” she asked.

“Ma’am, um, don’t you care about the Director . . . ?”

She did not answer him, merely staring at him in silence until his own discomfort prompted him to speak again.

“She’s returned to the Craton.  She was . . . bleeding from her eyes, nose, and ears, but she refused our medical attention and said she only trusted the ship’s doctor . . .”

Verena nodded, taking it all in.

Denso was dead.  It was finished.  And Nor had gone.

“What about Ambassador Kell?”

“Ma’am?”

“Was the Ambassador ever on the station?”

“Not . . . as far as I’m aware, ma’am.  But Director Free-“

“I need to rest more,” she said.

She felt something odd for a moment.  It was a sensation she could not quite place, but it seemed familiar.

She realized it was amusement.  It was fleeting, and fading already, but she’d felt it.  She knew she had.

An emotion that was hers alone.  A smile came to her face.

“Doctor’s orders,” she said, and lay back down to rest.

Dr. Genson clearly could not think of anything to say to that.  He stared, mouth agape for a moment, before slowly shuffling from the room.

Perhaps, when things were calmer, she would have the ceilings in these hospital rooms changed, she thought.


< Ep 3 Part 55 | Ep 3 Part 57 >

Episode 3 – Trauma part 55

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


“Dr. Urle, are you sure . . . ?”

“Open the airlock,” Verena said calmly.

There was a moment of silence, and then the door opened into Michal Denso’s room.

The air itself seemed to shimmer, to shift.  Colors flickered where nothing existed to reflect them; shapes distorted and twisted like mirages, but the room was cold.

Except around Apollonia.  There was an almost visible area around her where the distortions seemed to curl back on themselves, to bend around her presence.

It wasn’t a large area, her island of safety.  But it was enough for Verena to stand next to her.

The doctor scanned the room, her heavy protective suit limiting her ability to turn her head.  Looking down at her belt, at the device there that gave at least a sense of local krahteons, she saw that it registered nothing.

After a moment of consideration, she reached up and took her helmet off.

“Doctor-” came the cry over the comm.

“Apollonia Nor does not require a suit.  I do not believe I will,” Verena replied.

Apollonia said nothing and started to walk forward.

Staying by her side, they came upon the glass room box that surrounded Denso – or once had.

The glass had bloomed like a flower, splitting open in jagged lines like it had shattered apart at its top, but then folded gently towards the floor.

Apollonia stepped onto a folded petal, and though it made a grinding sound, it did not break.

Verena noted that the glass did not seem to have lost any structural integrity, and followed suit.

Denso himself was still.  His eyes were closed.  But there was something about the way he lay there that was different.  At once his face looked withered but his presence was stronger, as if much of him that had once been visible was now unseen, yet it remained in their senses in a way that was ineffable.

“Michal,” Verena said out loud.

The man did not speak, the silence lingering.

But then, his eyes opened.  Slowly, like a man waking from a deep dream.

“It has been a long time since I heard a voice that wasn’t filtered through glass or a mask,” he said softly.

Verena stepped closer, as far forward from Apollonia as she dared.

“Are you there, Michal?”

“The chains are broken,” he replied.  His eyes were focused upward, half-lidded and calm.  “Soon I shall be reborn.”

Verena looked back to Apollonia.  Her face was set in tight lines, the strain and toll visible upon her.

Verena turned back to Denso.  The point where the air seemed to be safe was only a foot from him.  Whatever mysterious power Apollonia possessed, it was strong enough to resist what Michal Denso was becoming.

“Michal, do you know where you are?” Verena asked.

The man blinked slowly, a hint of confusion going over his face.  But it passed.

“I am on Medical Station 29,” he said.

“Then you know that there are many other people here.  People who are sick or injured,” Verena continued.

Denso blinked again, and his answer was slower in coming.  “Yes,” he finally said.

“What are you going to become, Michal?” she asked.

A hint of a smile played at his lips.  “No word is sufficient to describe it,” he said, awe in his voice.  “I wish I could.  I will be . . . greater than anyone who has ever lived.  I will no longer live.  I will no longer die.  I . . . will simply be, in the truest sense.”

“Will you be a Leviathan, Michal?”

He was quiet again.  “Words are useless,” he finally said softly.  “You can’t understand.  You could see, but you do not have eyes.”

His head turned, slowly, his skull scraping loudly along bare metal until he was looking at Verena.  He was smiling broadly now, a joyful smile with a tinge of madness.

“I would help you all gain eyes, if you would let me.”

Verena found herself staring into his eyes, and she felt something curl in her stomach.  A feeling that made her knees weak, made her want to turn and run.

Her hands were shaking, she realized.

Something touched her shoulder, and she looked up to see that Apollonia had stepped forward.  A bead of blood ran from the woman’s nose, just touching her upper lip.

“He doesn’t really understand you,” she said softly.  “He’s lost in his own universe.”

Verena wondered what to make of Apollonia’s words, but was disturbed by them.

She could not find words of her own to speak before Apollonia continued.

“Take my hand,” she said.

Verena looked to her hand, feeling afraid to do what the woman said and yet knowing she had to.  She did not know what else to do.

Taking it, Apollonia reached out and touched Michal Denso.  Her touch was gentle, her fingers landing where his collarbone had once been.  If it still existed under the morass of twisted flesh, Verena did not know, but part of her thought that a human form did exist somewhere in there.  It was only hidden.

Apollonia’s hand moved up to touch Denso’s cheek.

His expression had turned to one of surprise, and Verena gained a realization that the man must not have known a gentle touch like this in years.

“Close your eyes,” Apollonia said.

Verena was not sure if the woman meant her or Michal, but she closed her lids nonetheless.

And then she felt a jolt, and found herself standing in an empty room.

The walls were not truly; they were only an impression of surfaces.  The space could have been infinite, even the floor did not seem to exist.

She was not alone here.

Apollonia stood there, her face calm and unfocused, and across from Verena, staring at her with just as much surprise, was a fully-human Michal Denso.

Verena stepped forward.

“Michal,” she said.  “Do you know who I am?”

“You’re . . .  Verena Urle.  The doctor . . . who has taken care of me,” he said softly.  The words struggled to come out.

“There is little of you left, Michal,” Apollonia spoke.  Her voice had an ineffable quality, husky and strong without having changed tones.  A fullness to her voice that soothed out the fear in her heart, even if they left her saddened.

“I’m dying,” Michal said, the realization coming to him.

“You are,” Apollonia said.  “And you’re becoming something else.”

“Yes,” he said earnestly in a whisper.  “I’m becoming something more.”

“And you’re going to hurt people,” Apollonia said.

The man looked stricken.  “No.  I’d never hurt anyone.  I’m an officer of the Sapient Union, I took an oath-“

“You’re going to hurt people if you are reborn,” Apollonia said again.

Pain and fear went over Michal’s face, and Verena felt a terrible sadness strike her.  She stepped forward, her first thought to bring comfort to someone who suffered.

“Michal,” she said gently.  “I’m sorry, but it’s true.  We . . . we can’t move you.  I don’t know if we could even help you die at this point.  But you are becoming something that we cannot withstand.  And even if we wanted to, we could not escape from you in time.”

Anguish went over the man’s face.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said.

“I do,” Apollonia told him.  “You have to let go.  Your continued will to live is the anchor that holds what you are becoming tethered to reality.  Without you . . . it will never be.”

“I . . .  I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

“I know, Michal,” Verena said.  Carefully, she reached out, and put a hand on his shoulder.

The man’s knees seemed to give way, and he fell into Verena.

She caught him, and held him, as his anguish gave way to sobs that wracked his whole body.

Verena put her arms around him.  It was the only thing that she could do.

“Please, how do I stop this?” he asked, “How do I . . . let go?”

Apollonia was silent.  “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “But we can figure this out, Denso.  We just have to try . . .”

Her words faded, but she looked uncertain.

“If he wished to die, to prevent this, he would have done so already,” a cold voice spoke.

Verena felt a stab of fear at that voice, looking towards it.  It was not Apollonia, and she, too, spun to see.

There were no longer just they three in the room.  Across the space, near them in spirit if not physically, was Kell.

In this space his body was not right, not human.  His form shifted, changing.  His clothing itself had eyes that opened, peered, and closed, to reappear elsewhere.

His face itself slithered and slid between an open snarl on an oily hide to the calm features he showed to the world.

And a power radiated from the being, a terrifying power that bespoke the deepest time, an age that had seen mountains rise and wither, oceans boil off and return in rains lasting a million years.

Like what Denso wished to be, a thing beyond life and death.

Denso looked at the Shoggoth, and shuddered.

“I hurt you before,” he whispered.

“Because you are not ready to go,” Kell said.

“No,” Denso finally said, his voice the merest sound.  “I’m scared.”

Apollonia seemed to shrink back from Kell, as his presence came closer.  He did not walk, did not move, yet he was nearer all the same.

Verena felt a primordial fear rising in her, but she clung to Michal still.

“He is my patient,” she snapped.  “You can’t take him!”

Kell stopped, and his face calmed, settling in his human shape.  A hint of regret went across it.

“There is no other choice.”

Apollonia screamed, and dove onto Verena.  Denso was pulled like he was on chains, his voice breaking as he was brought closer to Kell.

And the Shoggoth’s human form began to leave it.

Verena saw only a glimpse of something massive, a heaving shape of muscle with a surface that glistened like oil, before Apollonia covered her eyes.

“You shouldn’t see this,” the woman whispered fiercely.

And Verena did not struggle as she heard Michal Denso let out a final, protracted scream, accompanied by the sounds of death.


< Ep 3 Part 54 | Ep 3 Part 56 >

Episode 3 – Trauma part 54

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


Fifteen minutes ago, Brooks had been informed, Apollonia Nor had crossed onto MS-29.

His countdown for the arrival of Director Freeman said there was just over two hours left.  Once the man arrived, it was all out of their hands.

And he had a sickening feeling that it was going to go even more disastrously than he feared.

He was tempted to order the Craton to leave.  At least save his ship.  But he could not simply run and abandon the hundreds of millions on the medical station, and he had orders that kept him here.

He could only wait.

An alert startled him.  There was a call incoming, from Director Freeman.

Had the man arrived already?

He answered.  “Brooks here.”

There was no visual, and the audio was odd; distorted and low-quality, but his system confirmed an audio match for the director.

“Good,” the man said.  “Captain, I will arrive shortly.  I would like you to begin to prepare Michal Denso for transport.  I have specific instructions for this task I will send at the end of this message.”

“Are you messaging me while in transit, sir?” Brooks asked.

“Yes,” Freeman confirmed, but offered no more elaboration.

Brooks had never even heard of that ability, though judging from the quality of the transmission he could understand why it was not in wide use.

“Sending instructions now,” Freeman continued.  “And Brooks?”

“Yes?”

“I am counting on you.  Your success or failure in this will be remembered by myself and the rest of the Directorate.”

Brooks said nothing as the connection was cut, and the data stream began.

He reviewed the instructions Freeman had sent.  They were rigorous, and he could see that it would take several hours; Freeman had anticipated this and noted that that they were unlikely to be finished by the time of his arrival.

But he expected them to be well along.

Given what Brooks knew about the current state of Denso, this did not seem safe for his crew.  But Freeman had even anticipated that.

“Risks to crew considered acceptable under circumstances.  This is a matter of Union security.”

Brooks was duty-bound to order his crew to begin preparing for this.

Instead, he asked his system; “Where is Ambassador Kell?”

The device took a moment, longer than it should have, for such a simple question.

“Ambassador Kell’s location is currently unknown.”

“Did he leave the ship?”

“Unknown.”

Brooks closed his eyes for a moment.  He had a feeling where Kell was.

“Put out a call for volunteers from our available Response officers and medical staff,” he ordered.  “Matching the parameters of this document.  I want this team assembled in twenty minutes.”


< Ep 3 Part 53 | Ep 3 Part 55 >

Episode 3 – Trauma part 53

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


“It’s been a few days longer than I expected,” Jaya Yaepanaya said to Apollonia.

The latter was standing at the door to her office, watching silently.

The brighter lights of the room shed light on just how unhealthy the young woman looked, Jaya thought.  Her eyes had dark bags under them, and she looked so thin under her clothes that her bones might have stood out.

But there was a glint in her eyes that burned brightly.

“I’m ready to go,” Apollonia said.

Jaya studied her a moment longer, then nodded and rose.  Apollonia did not need to ask for her to come, and the Commander walked alongside her as they went to the airlock that connected the Craton to the Chain.

Apollonia came to a stop at the gate, staring across.

Jaya watched her.  She would cross over with the woman if she wanted her to, but it felt hollow to her.  It would not be a field of bayonets for her, just a walkway.


Apollonia stared across an abyss.  The ship had fallen away, though she was still aware of the bulkheads and decks.  She saw beyond.

It was a cesspit, a black hole, everything terrible at once across there.

Why was the difference so stark?  From their ship to the other, an arbitrary boundary.

It was just in her head, she realized.  The darkness from what lay on the Chain had sunk deep, but it was not the station.  It was something on it, and it bled onto the Craton, infused all of this sector of space.

She didn’t have to cross a field, she was already in it.

In which case, it was hardly any different to be on that side, was it?

She walked across.

The shock when she’d first arrived had not been from the station itself, it was her system reacting to that presence.  It had already surrounded her, though, it had since they’d arrived.

New layers opened to her.  She couldn’t understand them, not really, but she could see enough.

Jaya walked with her, and once they were on the other side, Apollonia spoke.

“Let’s go see that doctor.”

Jaya messaged ahead, and a drone met them as a guide.

Through tunnels and corridors, down elevators, deeper into the station.  The presence of foulness grew more intense, it burned, itched, hurt, in ways, made her feel like she was being watched.  Her stomach churned, but it did not touch her in the same way it had the first time she’d come aboard.

They finally were brought to an office.  It was cold, austere, and Verena Urle came out to meet them.

“Commander Yaepanaya, Ms. Nor.  What brings you here?” she asked.

“I’m here to help,” Apollonia said.

Verena studied her for a moment before replying.  “To be honest, Ms. Nor, I do not know what it is you think you can do.  The situation has changed drastically, and-“

“I know,” Apollonia said.  “I’ve been seeing it . . . feeling it, since we got here.  I know I’m late, but I think we need to go in there and talk to Michal Denso.”

Jaya looked to her sharply.  She did not think anyone had ever even told Apollonia the man’s name.

Verena caught that as well.  “It seems you are well-informed.  I have the feeling that this is not simply Commander Yaepanaya’s doing.  You have your own ways of knowing.”

Apollonia nodded.

“In which case,” Verena continued.  “Would you mind telling me just what your plan is?  I assume you understand that the conditions in the room with Denso are not safe for anyone.”

“I think that it’ll be safe for me and whoever is with me,” Apollonia said.

“You think?” Verena asked.

“We can only try it and find out.”

“This is far too large a risk to take, just on your feelings.  I have seen for myself many strange things, especially recently, but I am not yet ready to risk my life on these feelings you have.”

“Suit yourself.  I’d still like to go in,” Apollonia said.  “Because the alternative is a lot worse.”

Lines creased on Verena’s face, and a tense silence filled the air between them.

“What will happen?” Verena finally asked.

“Denso is becoming something else.  He’s going to be reborn as something that I don’t think we can contain or deal with.  We’ve got to act now, before that happens.”

Verena visibly reacted as Apollonia spoke.

“The last time I was in there, Denso talked to me.  They were the most coherent words I had ever heard him speak,” she said softly.

“What did he say?” Jaya asked.

“That he had no more chains,” Verena replied.  “And that is not all . . . an expedition to the Terris system encountered on our monitoring station there an unknown individual, whose appearance matches that of Denso.”

“And he’s dead, isn’t he?” Apollonia asked.  She could not say how she knew, but there was a logic here.

“Yes,” Verena replied, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“I think that whatever contact Denso had at Terris was not like that of others,” Apollonia said.  “It was something special.  I don’t know why him, out of all the people there.  Perhaps there isn’t a reason, or it’s one we can’t understand.  What affected him was so powerful it broke him as a being like we know it.  He existed in his body, but also elsewhere.  Some kind of . . . shade of him.  For all we know, there might be more of them out there.  But something has been growing inside this man here.  And as he died, it grew stronger.”

“I disconnected the life support for him earlier,” Verena said.  “It was . . .  perhaps an overdue mercy.  But I cannot do any more.  I already violated specific orders to do that much – and it did nothing.  There is little else I can justify doing.”

“Will it violate your orders if I go talk to him?”

Verena shook her head.  “You truly think it will help?”

“I think I have to do something.  And yeah, maybe.  Maybe there’s something of Denso still in there that can listen to me.”

“Unless you can convince it to cease existing, I do not know what,” Verena said.

“Perhaps I can do that,” Apollonia replied.  “But no promises.”


< Ep 3 Part 52 | Ep 3 Part 54 >