Starmind Chapter 53 (Patreon)

A few minutes late, but I managed to finish up a chapter for you! I've even proof-read it. Once.

Enjoy!

//AB

When not-captain Khani asked us for some kind of unspecified help, there were a lot of raised eyebrows and questioning looks. The Crew were too disciplined to speak up while Temeri was having an actual conversation, but by the looks they were giving each other they wanted to speculate very badly.

Temeri was steady. “Mister Khani,” she said. “I’m sure you understand that while our natural inclination is to help, you find us in a difficult position. I’m going to need to know more about you, your crew, your allegiances, and your mission here before I can possibly commit to offering any kind of aid.”

“Figured you might,” Khani answered. “And I should mention, if you’re not comfortable with just calling me by name, Captain, I would much prefer Pilot to Mister. If that’s acceptable.”

“Of course, Pilot Khani. Now, if you could kindly begin by telling us who you’re with and why you’re here…”

The Fever Dream was a pretty straightforward ship. It didn’t have the same repairs-on-repairs look as the Order ships we’d met, though it definitely hadn’t come out of the shipyard looking the way it did now. Compared to ship classes in my archives, my best guess was that it had started life as a fast transport of some kind and had been upgraded along the way. Now it had whole extra sensor banks and light-scattering panels and paint and things to make it less detectable, and was classed as a stealth reconnaissance vessel. It was a bit angular for my taste, but Khani clearly loved it very much from how he talked about it, and that was what mattered.

Their mission was simple, too, and completely unsurprising. Khani and his network, as he called his fellow crew for some reason, were there for the same reason as we were: to watch the station, Erebus Prime. The big difference was that they were entirely focused on which ships came and went, their likely origins and destinations, and on recording any entirely new ships. The kind of mission you’d expect for a stealth recon ship.

The thing that confused us a bit was the question of who they belonged to.

“So you don’t swear allegiance to anyone?” Temeri asked, slowly and clearly so there wouldn’t be any confusion.

“Not to anyone outside my network, no,” Khani confirmed.

“But you’re part of, and carry out missions for, an organization of outposts and colonies on the Magnian moons?”

“That’s correct.”

“And you don’t use a rank, because you don’t have a rank. Nobody has a rank. In the entire organization?” 

“The Association is non-hierarchical,” Khani again confirmed, repeating the term he’d used when he first explained this. “What any ship or outpost does locally is up to them, mostly, but we're not as a rule the kind of people who thrive under someone else's authority.”

Temeri looked at Harvin, who nodded encouragingly, though he looked as uncertain as she did.

As Khani explained about the Magnian People’s Association, as his people called themselves, Temeri had been getting steadily more confused. Tammeron hadn’t had any intelligence on them; all she and Sophia could tell us was that they knew that a few outposts had been established on the moons of Magnus, and that ships came and went between Avara and Magnus when their orbits allowed. When we’d discussed it Temeri had envisioned something similar to the Order: a practically lawless kind-of-nation of pirates, demon worshipers, and people practicing dark, forbidden magics. What Khani described, though, was nothing like that, in any way. No forbidden magics, no demon worshiping, and no pirates. Heck, no nation, even kind of! Just a bunch of colonies, outposts, and ships, each ruling itself however they wanted, trading services or what they had extra of and coming together for mutual aid or defense—like when the Order or one of the other awful groups that existed out here came raiding for loot or slaves.

Temeri simply couldn’t understand how it worked. With no leaders, how did anything get decided? With no one agreed upon currency, how did trade work? How could they coordinate any kind of relief or defense with no one in command?

Khani’s response was simple: “I don’t know what to tell you, Captain. We’ve been out there for decades. Me and my network, most of us were born there. We survived this far, and we expect to keep surviving for as long as Solaris still burns.”

Finally Temeri gave up. “Pilot Khani,” she said, frowning and shaking her head even though he couldn’t see, “I’m not going to pretend to understand how any of what you’ve told me works, but my Diviner tells me that you’re being honest. What is your emergency, and what can you offer in return, should we be willing and able to help?”

The relief in Khani’s voice when he continued, even though Temeri hadn’t promised anything, was palpable. “Well, Captain, the truth is, we’re stranded. Got hit by a swarm of microdebris a few weeks back. We managed to patch up the hull and ourselves in time, but the drive’s shot and the reactor’s on emergency power only. All we have is life support. We lost a lot of our supplies as well. We’re… honestly, Captain, we were discussing the merits of taking our chances with the Order when Nahij thought she detected a… what did you say, sweet?”

There was some hushed back and forth over the link that Khani’s microphone really should have filtered out, never mind his Crystal Mind, and I didn’t bother playing it for the Crew. Then another voice, higher-pitched and speaking much more deliberately and clearly than Khani, said, “Captain Temeri, this is Nahij. Ship’s Diviner, I suppose. And in the interest of not being misrepresented just because I was half out of it, I said that I thought I detected a sympathetic mind. That’s all.”

“Diviner Nahij,” Temeri said. “Will you be conducting the rest of these negotiations, or…” She was blinking a lot more than necessary, which was odd, but she seemed otherwise well. I decided it probably wasn’t a sign of anything bad.

“Afraid not, Captain. We elected Khani to speak for us, and I shall be returning comms to him shortly. I only wished to make things clear, rather than have you subjected to whatever fancy he had in mind. That, and to ask you to pass on my regards to your Diviner, or whoever it is who’s set up your shrouding ritual. It’s fine work. Here’s Khani again for you. Nahij out.”

“I’ll do that,” Temeri said, looking toward Harvin quizzically, like she wasn’t sure if she expected an answer from him. He just smiled and gave her a nod in acknowledgement before settling back and half closing his eyes again.

“Captain Temeri,” Khani said. He was a little stiffer now, though that wasn’t saying much. “I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that I should apologize. That you’re probably a naval officer from Mundus or Nemesis, and used to a bit more formality in your communications. If I’ve offended, I am sorry. I really don’t mean to. And we truly do need that help. We don’t know who you are, but we’re gambling on the assumption that anyone spying on this station, who’s willing to hear us out and who has a Diviner who feels all warm and fuzzy—”

There was a lot of noise in the background on Khani’s side when he said that. Most of it sounded like the Diviner, Nahij, but there was a fair bit of laughter, too, in other voices.

“I’ll pay for that later!” Khani laughed, then cleared his throat and went back to the somewhat serious tone he’d been trying for. “No, again, I apologize. And I truly do hope that Nahij is right about you, because you really are our only hope so far that might end with all of us free and alive.”

Temeri’s lips were a tight line. If she’d been on her feet, she would’ve been pacing. As it was, instead her fingers were drumming a steady rhythm on her armrests, going finger by finger from her left pinky to her right thumb and back again in a slow, unbroken wave. She looked to the other Crew, who all looked thoughtful.

“So you need supplies, and possibly repairs, is that it?” she asked, and I passed her question on to the Fever Dream.

“If you have an artificer onboard who can repair our drive and reactor, that would be beyond wonderful,” Khani replied. “Failing that… if you could tow us to or even in a trajectory en route to Magnus, we would be in your debt. A debt which we would repay generously with the help of our friends back around Magnus.

“Or—” and here he sighed heavily, “if you could take us with you, to whatever free port you may be headed for, you would also have our undying gratitude. While this ship is our home, and we love it dearly, and while all we know is in the Magnus system, as long as we are alive, free, and together… we could give you our ship, Captain. It and everything on it, save some personal items.”

“We can’t take you to Magnus,” Temeri replied almost immediately. “I sympathize with your plight, but our goal is to return to the inner system.”

“And Magnus is half again as far away as Mundus or Nemesis,” Khani replied, his voice full of resignation. “I understand.”

“But we may,” Temeri continued, stressing the may to the breaking point, “be able to attempt a repair, or to take you to a potentially friendly station. You understand I can make no promises on that point. And, failing that…” Temeri trailed off, looking at each of the others in turn, including a long look at the ceiling. “I will need to confer with my crew. For now: how many of you are there besides yourself and Diviner Nahij, do you need any medical assistance, and are there any supplies that you need urgently?”

There were two more members of their crew—or network, as they preferred to call it: Mel the Enchanter, and Liri the Artificer. Mel sounded like he was super excited to maybe make some new friends and talked for a solid minute before getting cut off, but Liri… I got the impression that she’d probably taken some convincing. All we got out of her was a curt, “Liri. Artificer. Hi.”

After that, since they didn’t need anything urgently, we cut the connection for the moment.

On the bridge, everyone waited expectantly for Temeri to speak—this was beyond any doubt a Captain Carlon moment. Temeri raised her couch to the seated position and asked me to call Bekeri up. Only when they were all there and facing each other did she address the situation.

“Diviner Alder, your opinion?” she asked.

“They’re nervous and probably holding some things back, but most relieved and hopeful from what little I could pick up. I certainly didn’t feel any hostility or predatory intent, which is usually hard to hide. That said, their shroud is still active. Only Diviner Nahij was easy to read, and she was pushing what she wanted me to see.”

“Thank you. That’s all well and good, but what’s your opinion? How do you think that we should proceed?”

Harvin didn’t hesitate. “We should help them, Captain.”

“How?”

“Let Star take over their ship, then see if we can repair their drive and reactor. Take that time to get to know them. If we can’t fix their ship, and if they’re as friendly as Nahij and Khani want us to think, I say we either tow them to Sophia, or take them onboard. Honestly, I don’t see how they could pose any danger to us, especially onboard. Star may not be all-powerful in her own domain, but she’s near enough as makes no difference here.”

As Temeri nodded thoughtfully, Bekeri spoke up. “Captain, if I may?”

“Yes, Artificer Bekeri?”

“While I am not opposed to helping these people, neither on principle nor in this instance, do we have time to attempt any repairs? I have a full schedule as it is, and drive and reactor repairs are both tricky to affect. We may waste a week or more only to find that I—and presumably their Artificer Liri—-cannot restore either or both to a safely operable state.”

“So what is your suggestion?”

“I say we take them onboard, sequester them, and see if Tammeron can take them.”

“Very good. Enchantress and Healer Tell?”

“We have the means to help, and to keep ourselves safe,” Simeon said with a gentle smile. “I don’t see how we could refuse.”

“Easily,” Varlanda countered. “We’d tell them that they knew the risks coming here, and to take their chances with the Order.” Then she shook her head and sighed. “But I think we all agree that it’s not worth the guilt. Everybody’s already said it, but it bears repeating: we can defend ourselves if it comes to it. With Star on our side, there’s no way for them to harm us unless they open fire point blank, and even then I’m pretty sure we can make it out in one piece. And besides this just being the right thing to do, well, I don’t know what they can really offer us in the way of supplies or other materials, but whatever intelligence they have on the Order may be invaluable. So, yeah. Let’s be careful, but let’s see what we can do.”

“Thank you,” Temeri said, nodding thoughtfully. “And finally, Star. What do you think about all this?”

I’d been waiting patiently for my turn to speak, and now that it had come the words burst out of me. “If we dock with them, I can assimilate their ship!” I declared. “And if this is a trick to try to board me, I can just make a tiny room around them. You’ll all be as safe as safe can be. We have to help them!”

“Thank you, Star,” Temeri said, her tone carrying that finality that declared that she was done listening and about to make a decision. “What I’m hearing is: be kind, but be careful. And I’m glad for that, because I was already leaning that way myself. With that decided, here’s what we’ll do…”

A short time later we were again in communications with Fever Dream.

“This is Temeri,” our captain said. “We’ve discussed the situation, and we’ve made up our minds. We are approaching. Do not change your attitude and do not adjust the aim of your weapons, or we will be forced to treat you as hostile. Prepare to dock. We’re taking you onboard.”

There were no arguments or protests from the crew of the other ship. They were far too busy being grateful.

Docking with the Fever Dream was easy. Bursts of cold gas from my maneuvering thrusters let me approach without giving us away to anyone who might be looking in our direction, and while it wasn’t fast, it only took us a few hours.

We spent some of that time setting up simple quarters for them in the unused area above the artifice bay, which I hoped to turn into an exercise area in the future. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable, but I could easily make a few cots, a table, and some chairs for them. If necessary the Crew had enough spare bedsheets and blankets that our guests should be able to sleep somewhat comfortably, but I insisted on Temeri asking them if they had mattresses and other bedding they could bring aboard. I couldn’t make those and the cots were made of Hull, which was very hard. Fortunately, they said that they did.

Once we arrived in Fever Dream’s local space it was just a matter of lining up our docking collars. Now, I didn’t actually have an umbilical to extend, but that wasn’t a problem. Just like I had with the gunship, I built a tunnel out of Hull to connect us. That was much safer than any docking umbilical, anyway.

The moment the tunnel made contact, I started assimilating the Fever Dream.

I felt a little bad about it. Unlike the other ships I’d assimilated, this one belonged to people who seemed friendly, and I didn’t have their permission. But I literally couldn’t control the process, and even if I could, I still would have done it. The safety of my Crew came before anything else, and I needed to know what was going on inside the other ship. If I’d seen Khani and the others lining up inside their airlock with weapons ready, we would have had a very big problem.

Well, they would have a problem. A few seconds after contact they couldn’t open their docking port anymore, since I’d assimilated it. And not much later I could have locked them in their airlock entirely until we decided what to do with them. But I didn’t have to do that, because they were all waiting patiently, floating in zero gravity with not a weapon in sight.

They all looked human, all with skin that was a rather warm sandy brown—somewhere between Harvin’s and Temeri’s—and there were four of them, just like they’d said. A tall, thin man and the taller of the two women were carrying a single huge rolled up foam mattress between them—I wasn’t sure why that was, but I quickly expanded one of the cots to be big enough for it. The other two, a very muscular man about the same height as Simeon and an unhappy-looking woman with no hair, hung by the wall with two bags each. The man had his arms wrapped around the woman from behind, his chin on her shoulder, and once I’d assimilated enough of the airlock I could hear that he was softly telling her about all the great things that this could mean: new friends, new stories, new food, and things like that.

I thought it may have been a courtship thing, thought I wasn’t entirely sure—he might just have been very friendly.

“Fever,” the tall, thin man said, and I recognized him as Khani by his voice. “Go ahead and tell the Star that we’re ready when they are.” I found it interesting that while the muscular man—Mel, I guessed—was speaking Sirelli, Khani wasn’t. I understood him just fine anyway.

“Alright, Khani!” the ship’s Crystal Mind replied in the same language, whatever it was. Its voice was androgynous, like Sophia’s, and sounded quite young and happy to be helping out. Before it finished the sentence I’d received a Mind-to-Mind message telling me that the crew of the Fever Dream were ready and asking permission to come aboard, and after checking with Temeri that everything was ready I acknowledged the message and replied that permission had been granted.

“The Star says that you’re good to go!” Fever told its crew. “Air pressure and composition outside the docking collar is Mundus sea-level standard, so don’t be surprised if it feels a little on the thick side. And it’s a little cooler than you’re used to, too, so keep each other warm, alright?”

“Alright, Fever,” Khani chuckled, a little nervously but with a lot of warmth. “We’ll keep that in mind. Open the outer door, please.”

“Opening docking port,” Fever confirmed, and I had a very odd sensation as it sent the command. It didn’t seem to have realized that I was slowly assimilating it, and when it commanded its docking port to open, I felt it as a request for me to do it. Which I did, because why shouldn’t I?

I decided I’d have to be careful, though. Realizing that you were slowly being taken over must be a terrible thing, and I didn’t want to spook poor Fever. Even if it wasn’t actually alive like I was, and like Sophia kinda-sorta was, it still acted like it, and I really wasn’t philosophically equipped to decide what that meant.

“Have fun over there!” Fever told them as the docking port opened with a hiss of equalizing pressure. “Oh, and mind the step! The umbilical seems to have gravity!”