Day: 49

Year of event: 22+ 10^(10.1395)

Notes: n/a

The destination seemed to be so near, a mere week away. So close they could cover the distance in a single jump. And that was exactly what Dorothy was thinking about as she did a few push-ups in the narrow corridor, which was just about the only space available for exercise. Unlike Re’A she was perfectly fine with spending long periods of time in what most would consider a narrow and claustrophobic ship, but the lack of physical and mental stimuli was slowly getting to her.

There was nothing to fix, no goal to work towards, and the conversations she’d had with Re’A were often surface-level. Interesting, still, but nothing that came anything close to challenging her worldviews. Not that that was something Dorothy was particularly after, but it was something she’d expected from living with an alien for seven weeks.

After finishing her set of 40 push-ups, she fell flat on the floor and let out a tired noise.

“Come on hun, five more!” Cassie tried to encourage her.

When Dorothy lifted her head from the floor, she saw Re’A standing in the doorway to the main deck. The Faklar wasn’t saying anything, but Dot could easily figure out that she too wanted her to continue.

“Are you two just eager to see me fail?” The technician said as she sat up and reached for a half-full water bottle she’d left on the kitchen stand.

“No?” Cassie replied in a coy tone.

“Physical fitness is important. You never know when trouble will come your way.” Re’A agreed.

“Oh, come on. I’m fit,” Dot argued. “I can lift almost anything, and look at these abbs.” To prove her point, she lifted up her long t-shirt and patted her stomach.

“Let me get a microscope!” Cassie joyfully replied.

“Oh, for the love of god,” Dorothy shook her head, pretending to be offended, but a smile on her face betrayed how she truly felt about the situation.

She straightened her shirt, and leaned against the kitchen counter. Her thoughts drifted back to her original dilemma of giving up on the cloaking and using the power to sun-jump to the sun-harvester. But as she turned her head towards the bay window which showed nothing but a large white dot lost in a sea of darkness, her eyes fell upon her roommate.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking,” Dorothy called out to Re’A, as she closed and put down her water bottle. “Should we 3D print you some clothes?”

Re’A turned towards her and gave her a questioning look. Dot pressed her lips together, hoping that she wasn’t being ‘culturally insensitive’ as Cassie often put it.

“Not that I’m bothered,” Dot shrugged, “I would have said something way earlier if I were. It’s just that I am somewhat bored, as you may have noticed, so any mentally stimulating activity is welcomed.” She nodded towards the spot she’d been exercising in, as if to give evidence of her words.

“Captain sure is right about one thing, getting that thing to work properly is one hell of a challenge.” Cassie agreed, in reference to the somewhat temperamental 3D printer.

“Yeah, good thing we can recycle just about anything.” Dot nodded, thinking back to her last attempt at making trousers. Shorts worked fine, and so did socks and sock-boots, but for some reason the trousers always came out seriously deformed. But they had a week to kill, and figuring out how to design and then print something meant for a radically different anatomy seemed like a fair project.

“Weren’t you working on some bio-samples a few days back?” Re’A changed the subject.

Dorothy sigh. Both because this meant that Re’A wasn’t up for a makeover, but also because she didn’t want to think about the many failed attempts at analysing whatever it was that she’d pulled out of that guy’s neck back on Cosmos 6.

“Right, well I guess I’ll have another go at styling my hair then!” She decided, and hopped of the kitchen counter.

“It’s still too short for locks.” Cassie informed her.

“I am painfully aware.” Dot replied. “I’ll stick with sponge-rolling it for now.”

“If you want to make the process more involved, you could always try dying it some funky colour. I’m sure you could repurpose some of the chemicals we have on board.”

“I think white can be considered funky, as is.” Dorothy replied to the AI. “Re’A what’s your opinion on this?”

“If we are still talking about hair, I think anything is fine.” The Faklar replied, with a tone that just further confirmed her indifferent stand on the situation. “But if you require help, I will gladly assist.”

“Oh, she does. She always mixes up her oils and her conditioner.” Cassie confirmed.

“The bottles are un-labelled, and they all smell the same!” Dot argued.

“You could always pick up a pen and label them, cap.”

“Right.” Dorothy shook her head.

She then nodded in the direction of the bathroom, and said:

“Alright, let’s go. This won’t take a week, but it will at least kill some time.”

Re’A promptly followed suit.

“Captain we are being hailed!” Cassie suddenly called out, bursting the idle atmosphere that had filled the ship.

“Again?” Dorothy said in an annoyed tone, as she leaned out of the bathroom and into the corridor.

This time she didn’t need an enhanced visual. She could clearly see a large ship hovering about, likely less than a kilometre away from them. The ship was a monolithic rectangular block, which by the looks of it was un-adapted to fast travel and made up for that fact with a thick outer shell that could definitely withstand an impact from an asteroid of equal size.

“They say they are law enforcement.” Cassie elaborated.

“Fuck. Stall them. I need a minute.” Dorothy said as she rushed back into the bathroom to put some proper clothes on.

Meanwhile, Re’A, who’d been helping the technician with her hair, left the bathroom and took her place on the command deck.

“What else did they say?” The alien asked.

“They said that they are Space Force investigating a report of illim trafficking, hun’. Don’t worry. It’ll take them at least another 10 minutes to make sense of all the paperwork our captain has acquired, and I have diligently scrambled.” Cassie explained.

“Space force? Come on, what’s with those names?” Dot said, as she took a seat in her piloting chair. “And why does everyone think we’re smugglers?”

“It is because of your ship. It is too new, and polges do typically travel with an escort.” Re’A explained.

“Cassie, can’t you make us look a bit beat up?”

“You could do that this whole time?” Re’A interjected before Cassie had had the time to respond.

Dorothy turned her head towards the alien. Her reaction had made it abundantly clear that this was what they were supposed to have done from the get-go, maybe even before airing these fake documents.

“Well you see, love,-”

“What’s done is done.” The technician interrupted Cassie, not wanting to dwell on her own shortcomings. “Did you manage to get these guys of our back?”

“No sir.” Cassie replied with a dejected voice. “They’re asking to speak with you as soon as possible.”

“Any chance you could yell at them like you did last time?” Dot asked, directing the question at Re’A.

“No.”

“urgh.” Dorothy rubbed her temple. “Fine, let’s hear what they have to say.”

“Patching though. Video or audio only?” Cassie asked.

Dorothy glanced at Re’A, hoping for the other woman to make a decision. In that moment, she felt as if she was getting herself deeper and deeper into problems that should not have existed in the first place. Unsurprisingly, no answer came, so Dorothy decided to play it safe, or at least as safe as she could in this instance.

“Audio only. Who knows what kind of trouble we’d get into if they see our faces.”

“Good choice captain, we’re so close to your objective that we shouldn’t take any risks.”

“Are you saying that to make me feel better?” Dorothy asked as she twitched a corner of her mouth and shook her head.

“I am sensing an elevated heart rate.” Cassie confirmed.

“If I may-” Re’A interrupted.

Dot nodded and stopped talking.

An image popped up on the bay window screen, partially covering the massive ship which had placed itself dead centre in this frame. Unlike Cassie’s crew, this space force had no qualms about displaying their faces.

A full-on crew, of at least twenty people, was busying themselves behind various consoles. Everyone wore black and red uniforms, with different arrangements of stripes on their shoulders to differentiate rank and occupation. The crew was mostly, if not exclusively human.

A woman stood in the centre of the room. She had dark skin, black hair gathered into two thick braids, and deep wrinkles running through her face. Judging by the way the rest of the crew was running around her when doing their assigned tasks, she was no doubt the captain of this ship.

“Hello, can you hear us?” She asked with a soft tone.

Her tone seemed friendly enough. However, everything from the lengths they went to reach Cassie, to the stiff position this woman held, made it look as if she and Cassie’s crew were on two different sides of a growing conflict.

“Yes. We can.” Dorothy replied. “I’ve got wind that you’re accusing us of human trafficking.”

“Well,” The woman smirked, “Not human, lassie. You see I’ve got a report that you’ve accidentally let aboard a pet. Maybe you haven’t even noticed its presence. Although I would assume an insect of that size would be hard to miss.”

Dorothy rubbed her temple. It wasn’t hard to figure out who this woman was talking about. Dorothy and Re’A exchanged a knowing look and nodded to each other.

“And whom exactly did you get this report from?” Dorothy asked.

“Gotta make sure your sources are reputable.” Cassie added in her typical joyful tone.

A perplexed expression flashed over the woman’s face, but she quickly got it under control and said:

“A friend of a friend, let’s call it. But you shouldn’t worry, you aren’t in trouble. Under normal circumstances, you would be fined, and your travel privileges would be revoked for up to six days, but you are in luck since the rightful owner of that Faklar chose not to press charges.”

Dorothy’s eyes widened and her lips pressed together ever so slightly. She wasn’t sure what that woman was implying. Well, she understood the subtext well enough, but she’d never expected Onshores to be so overt about their illegal proceedings.

“And what happens if I don’t-” Dorothy was interrupted halfway through her sentence by a four-fingered hand firmly landing on her shoulder. When she turned her head, Re’A was kneeling by her chair. She ran a finger down her chin, but the meaning of the gesture was lost in translation. Thankfully, Re’A had had the presence of mind to add:

“May we discuss this issue amongst ourselves?”

It wasn’t clear if this question was directed at the technician or the captain of the other ship.

“But of course, lassie. Take your time.” The older woman replied with a slightly annoyed smile.

She gestured to someone to her right, and her image froze, suggesting that they had paused their transmission.

“They can’t hear us no more. What is it that you wanted to say pumpkin?” Cassie asked.

“Do you want to go with them?” Dorothy asked, her mind having finally caught up to the situation.

Although she couldn’t help by feel as if she was still missing pieces, the possibility of her companion wanting to go with her own people, those from the Onshore, did make sense in Dorothy’s mind. And she was willing to overlook the way the few people she’d encountered so far had referred to Re’A as being just one of those ‘cultural differences’ Cassie wanted her to get over so badly.

Re’A remained silent for a little while longer. The technician wondered if it was because she was deep in thought about something, or trying to remember the English words she needed to use. So, to fill in the silence, Dot did something she rarely ever did.

“I guess I never really thought about your situation,” The technician lied and rambled on, “but if you want to re-join your people, I get it. Plus, their ship looks way nicer than mine. Couldn’t help by notice that you were getting a bit claustrophobic. Umm. They don’t seem particularly nice, but at least they are with the government, and well, civilisation…” Dorothy paused.

For some reason it was becoming increasingly hard to come up with excuses to get Re’A to leave. Dot’s common sense told her it was because she knew that Re’A wouldn’t be returning to a proper life. It had never been explicitly said, but she figured out that the alien was part of the lowest social class Onshore. But although Dot herself couldn’t see the appeal of living like that, home was home, and no amount of travel or economic restrictions could really change that.

“We’ll miss you of course.” Cassie chipped in.

“Aren’t you putting yourself in danger of exposure?” Re’A finally spoke, while looking at some non-existent spot on the floor.

“Oh, we will be in breach of protocol-”

Dorothy waved her hand in the air to tell Cassie to shut up.

“Yeah, I guess this one will be hard to explain in front of the Ethics Committee, but kidnapping is wrong to.” Dorothy shrugged.

She did, in fact, have no idea what kind of repercussions this would have on her career and life in general once she’d get back Offshore, but that bridge had been crossed the second she had turned off primary CASSIE, and protocol violation was a very binary concept.

Re’A looked as if she was torn in between two difficult decisions. And Cassie seemed to have picked up on that as well.

“I don’t mean to rush you hun, but we have been talking for a while. If it can make things any easier for you, I can tell you bad things about Dorothy and myself.” The AI spoke. “For example, one time miss Sanders took out a whole fuel tank full of-”

“May I stay?” Re’A suddenly asked.

“Umm,” Dorothy struggled for words as she got briefly confused by these words. “Yeah, of course.”

Re’A nodded and folded her hands over her chest once again. Dorothy took mental note of asking her what that gesture meant as she had only ever done it in tense situations.

“I didn’t expect you to say that, if I’m being honest.” Dorothy said, having regained her composure. “Well, we need to politely send these space cops to space heck then.”

Re’A quickly returned to her chair, before saying:

“They have a lot of heavy and laser artillery, but are not capable of hyperspace travel. I believe you could easily outrun them-”

“And camouflage as an asteroid!” Cassie interrupted, with a tone more joyful than usual.

“And perhaps perform the ‘sun-jump’ manoeuvre you’ve mentioned?” Re’A tentatively asked.

“We’ll have to drop our cloak for that. I’m not sure I have enough time to rewire-”

Suddenly, the void of space surrounding the police ship was torn apart with a myriad of small explosions. Dot shielded her eyes with her hand, and could just about make out through the gap between her fingers as the fabric of space itself was pierced by metallic needles. The clouds of orange and purple that came through during the explosions quickly settled and vanished. Twelve more tiny ships had now gathered around the police cruiser.

“Any chance they’re ours?” Dorothy asked.

There was no doubt as to what she’d just witnessed. These ships had emerged from Hyperspace. All by themselves. No beacons, no gates, no pull-ships. Technology like this should have been impossible Onshore.

“No.” Re’A whispered.

“No.” Cassie confirmed.

“Laddie, have you decided?” The transmission from the other ship had un-paused itself.

Something must have happened on that other ship while they were talking. Dorothy was about to start the negotiations back up, but something in the sour expression of their captain dissuaded her from that.

Dorothy bit down her lower lip, and Re’A hit the armrest of her chair

“They will follow us if we jump.” Cassie said, having finally come to the same conclusion as the rest of the crew.

Notes:

And this is exactly why you shouldn’t go frolicking about the Onshore.

They might seem primitive at first glance, but when money, status or power is involved, they will dig up every hole and cut down every tree to get what they want.

Just as my colleagues have said, this entry to the report is the prime example as to why we have laws against contact with the Onshore. In addition to the reasons described in the earlier entries, the safety of our people can and will get compromised in situations such as these.

Current year: 22+e^(23.347)

Redactor signature: E.E. Shwartz