Authors: Andrew Beery
The decision was made to use Ken's pinnace, the
GCP Esperance
to shuttle an away team down to one of the larger island-continents. A natural explorer, Captain Running Stream invoked executive privilege and chose to head up the team which consisted of Cat, Yhsif, Doctor Lacidem, and Ken.
Ken, who was piloting the pinnace, circled a bare patch of beach that jutted out into the water on the southern end of the island. The bulk of the island was covered in thick tropical forest. Small bird-like creatures could be seen flying in the canopy. No rivers or streams were visible, but the vegetation was so thick it could have easily covered any aerial signs. Probes had confirmed a nitrogen oxygen atmosphere roughly comparable to precambrian Earth. It was breathable but a little higher in CO
2
than humans typically preferred.
"This looks like a good spot to set down," Ken commented as he noted the slight elevation and superior field of view.
"It does, indeed," Running Stream said. "Can your sensors detect any indigenous animal life in the immediate vicinity?"
"Negative, Sir. That doesn't mean they are not there. We scan for thermal differences and bioelectric energy fields. If they or the vegetation shield those they will pretty much escape detection."
"So what you are saying," the Modos captain said, "is be careful."
"Exactly."
Addressing the pinnace's AI, Running Stream said "
Esperance
, before we land can you open a channel to the ship for me?"
"Channel open," the ship's AI reported.
"
Bluefin
, this is Running Stream."
"Go ahead, Sir," Commander Nicked Fin, the chief engineer and acting First Officer answered.
"What's the status of your asteroid mining operation?"
"Nothing but dirt so far, Sir. I think the planet's magnetic field has pretty much stripped all metallic ores out of the close orbit asteroid field. We need some source of metal. Our repairs may be limited to what you can find down there. And Sir, if we don't find anything..."
"...then we may well find ourselves beached on this moon." Running Stream finished.
The next week flew by pretty quickly. The vegetation turned out to be edible for both the Bearephants and the Modos with no conversion. This was exceedingly rare and just added to the growing list of mysteries surrounding this particular rock in space.
The pinnace and two cargo shuttles from the
Bluefin
began round-the-clock ferry operations between the moon and the crippled starship. No dangerous animals were found anywhere in the vicinity. In point of fact nothing larger than bird-like flying reptiles were detected anywhere on the planet-moon. This seemed strange to Cat, until Doctor Lacidem explained the energetic sun was the likely culprit.
Most of the plants and animals they had discovered seemed to have a natural ultraviolet sun-screen pigment as part of their genetic makeup. Despite this there was plenty of evidence of periodic, and apparently regular, mass die offs. Diggers excavating foundations for the permanent camp that was being erected near the original landing site found regular striations of organic matter and ash sandwiched between layers of sand. It was impossible to tell from these how long it had been since the last die off but it seemed clear to everyone that they were in fact due for another one soon.
The metal problem persisted. There was plenty of metals available, but no easy way to get to them. As had been speculated earlier, the bulk of the ore laden asteroids where confined to a highly radioactive magnetic belt that shrouded the large planet around which the moon orbited. Ken's pinnace was the only ship available to them that could brave this belt, but it was ill equipped for mining operations. That left the moon itself which was why the decision had been made to erect a permanent camp.
Cat sipped a reasonable facsimile of coffee from one of the seat-hammocks that the Bearephants seemed to favor. Running Stream occupied a similar hammock. The expansive tent that was serving as their tactical operations center, or TOC, opened on both ends to allow a gentle and cooling breeze to flow through. For the moment Running Stream and Cat were alone. It was not the first time they had met in the TOC but it was the first time they had met alone in the week they had been in this planetary system. Running Stream had arranged the meeting. Cat was happy he had done so, because she was getting impatient for answers and had been contemplating asking for the meeting on her own.
"So..." Running Stream began slowly.
Cat held her coffee and looked at the Modos Captain. Her enhanced senses detected a heightened tension in the hybrid being's physiology, but no evidence of this was apparent in his external demeanor.
"There are things you should know about the crew of the
Bluefin
, our mission, and our ultimate goals."
"I'm all ears," Cat said.
Running Stream raised an eyebrow and touched his own somewhat large ears unconsciously with his trunk. "An unusual turn of phrase, but I think I gather your meaning."
"My people... and by that I mean my race, the Modos, not the crew of the
Bluefin
, have been a dominating force in this universe for countless generations. We are an amphibious race that learned how to enslave others as a survival strategy."
Cat leaned forward and placed her drink on the table. "I'd be curious to know how that came to be."
"I'm afraid the answer to that question has been lost to antiquity. We tell our children stories that may be shrouded in a distant truth but there is no way of knowing for sure. As the stories go, our home world was doomed because of some mortal sin committed by our race. We were mentally nimble but physically challenged as a race. Our people can link via neuron bundles in our forelimbs. In this type of communion we become great thinkers. At some point one of our greatest minds reasoned that if we could link with each other, perhaps we could link with other creatures. Thus the first Modos hybrid was created with the race you call the Bearephants. They are only moderately intelligent but what they lack in intellect, they more than make up for in dexterity. With the Bearephants we became true builders on a scale that had never been practical before. This skill afforded us a means of leaving our doomed world."
"And because you found benefits from enslaving others you began a pattern of such behavior," Cat reasoned.
"You are correct, but before you condemn us out of hand you should know that in the beginning the only permanent hybrids established were between consenting individuals. The level of interaction within ourself would not be possible if both parties had not willed it so."
"So what happened?" Cat asked.
"What often happens when a society is disrupted. As we fled our home world, pockets of our people established themselves in many surrounding star systems. The 'Great Diaspora' as we called it, resulted in a great divergence in cultural values. The groups that supported free choice in hybridization were eventually overrun by those groups inclined to be more aggressive. At a certain point the enslavement of others became a cultural norm that none would think to oppose."
"So how does the
Bluefin
fit in?"
Now it was Captain Running Stream's turn to put his coffee down. He turned to face the open flap of the TO
C…
the one facing the gently lapping sea. Cat was sure that he was not going to answer. Finally he began to talk again.
"My crew and I..." He picked up his coffee again. Turning to face Cat, he looked her directly in the eye. "My crew and I are part of the opposition. We seek to stop the practice of slavery."
"You'll forgive me if I question that," Cat said coldly. "If I recall correctly, and I assure you I do, you kidnapped an Ashkelon shuttle."
"As I said, my crew and I are part of an effort to end slavery. Understand this though. We are by no means the first to attempt to bring emancipation. The reaction from the powers-that-be has always been the same. Shift and with extreme prejudicious."
"So you needed to keep your efforts covert. Is that what you are telling me?"
The Modos captain nodded. "Once the jump coordinates to your universe were discovered the floods gates were opened. Various members of the major syndicates were going to start coming. I couldn't stop that. What I could do is lay claim to the region first. That meant I had to establish an ability to exploit this resource. I had to bring back a steady stream of slaves."
Cat nodded.
Running Stream continued. "The other syndicates were also striving to establish the claim. This meant I had to be more aggressive."
"In order to secure the claim," Cat said dryly.
"But more than that. You see I had an ulterior motive. I was hoping to locate technology and allies in our fight."
Cat sipped her rapidly cooling coffee. "While I applaud your goals, I struggle with the means you sought to achieve them."
Running Stream waved his trunk dismissively. "I made the best of a bad situation," he objected. "Slavers were coming to your people. My way, we took only people already condemned to incarceration. My way, those taken were offered a choice to join us or settle an uninhabited world. My way, those of us seeking to end this could scout for allies. Was it horrible? Was it shameful? Certainly. But it was the best of the many bad choices available."
"You could have approached the Coalition."
"Some of us, including myself, pushed for exactly that, but the consensus opinion was that it was too dangerous. Slaves were already being taken by the other syndicates. If they staked a successful claim to this territory then we would lose a foothold. No, Admiral. As much as I wish it were not so, this was the safest way forward. We are outnumbered a thousand to one in this battle and the enemy is desperate to maintain the status quo. Without a game-changer in the form of new allies and technologies the
Bluefin
, and ships like her, do not stand a chance in this fight."
"Can I assume," Cat asked "that the group that attacked us before was somehow aware of the duplicitous nature of your operation."
Running Stream scratched his neck with his flexible trunk. "I'm trying to figure that one out. I cannot understand how the Syndicate Council found out about our plans, and yet apparently they did."
"So once the ship is repaired what are your plans?"
"Well Admiral, that very much depends on you."
***
Ricky shifted in his makeshift seat. The
Honey Dipper
was in pretty bad shape. Most of the ship had been destroyed by the overload that had doomed the dreadnaught attacking Cat's ship. The advanced Heshe nanotech could and would repair the ship but it needed access to raw materials. There was an abundance of source metals literally floating just outside the craft but the construction nanites could only access the material if it happened to bump against the fragment of the ship that was still under his control.
He had been shocked to learn that the ship's avatar had not survived the destruction. In point of fact she had, but she sacrificed her physical body so that the ship's nanite systems could use the material to rebuild a working environmental support system for the one fully organic lifeform on the ship. The result was a control panel on the bridge that had a woman's head sprouting from it.
Honey smiled at her friend and captain. He looked decidedly uncomfortable but the metal in the chairs had also been sacrificed for more critical systems. All in all, they had been lucky. With four-fifths of the ship vaporized, the odds of the remaining section having enough battery power and material to repair a serviceable fusion core for sustainable power was vanishingly low, and yet the Creator had seen fit to grace them with fortune and favor.
Her captain had been grievously hurt by the explosion. PetaJoule power sources were known to be especially troublesome when they became unstable. The energetic nature of the blast had showered the small shuttle with dangerous x-rays. Had the
Honey Dipper
not been fitted with the most advanced Heshe technology, including medical nanites, this human she had come to love would most certainly be dead.
"What's the status of ship's systems?" Ricky asked, while being careful not to look at the decapitated head mounted on the navigation console.
Honey had been tempted to grow miniature legs to move her cranial unit into his field of sight but she decided that would not be the best use of their limited resources.
"There is a nice chunk of metal just outside of my reach. Another few feet of drift and we should be in contact. It will add several hundred kilos of source material for the repair systems to latch onto. Once I have access to that I should be able to bring limited sensors back online."
A shimmering appeared just to the left of the navigation console. Ricky saw a cream-colored jumpsuit materialize. He nodded his chin towards it. "Does that mean what I think it means?"
"Just getting ready," Honey answered. "I had a piece of plastic furniture brush by and thought you would be more comfortable if I wasn't walking around naked once I get my body back."
"Oh, I suppose I could have coped," Ricky said with a wolfish grin.
"Dirty old man!" Honey said with mock scorn. "I'm barely a year old."
***
Commander Ben was on the bridge of the
Bluefin
with Lieutenant Sassi. "Are you sure?" The D'lralu asked.
"No, I'm not" Sassi answered. His low frequency antenna trembled in agitation. "The numbers are climbing logarithmically. My best guess is that we are looking at a massive stellar ejection in less than a day. After that we will have roughly twelve hours before the coronal mass hits the planet's atmosphere."