Original: "The Remnant Fleet," Chapter 10
A very quick note for anyone who found this on LJ, for anyone reading from Uber Etc or who happen across it: Thank you. Thank you for reading my stuff even when it's rough and shoddy. Thank you for giving me a chance to fix what's wrong with the story. I've been taking a lot of things from Remnant Fleet Version 2 for this one, which proves to me that version wasn't BAD. It was just being put together wrong. Thank you for buying my stuff even though you get so much of it for free (and if you don't buy my stuff, hey! Consider it! That would be cool of you ;D I guarantee you'll find something great in your price range here!)
Now, on with the story!
Chapter Ten
“You must understand,” Jocia said, “that we don’t often discuss this with outsiders. It’s not because we consider it a great secret but because it’s just a silly myth.”
They were gathered in the briefing room again. This time Cordwainer was present. Ze had been filled in about their earlier conversation. Jocia was uncomfortable being the center of attention, but she focused on the information she had to share.
“The description Nerea found was a reference to one of our song cycles. It’s a tale passed down from generation to generation. Ladronis parents use story songs to teach their toddlers... well, many things. The same thing parents of other species use stories for, I suppose. One of the cycles is about the Wakerran, a fierce and monstrous race that existed at the beginning of time. They were vicious and cruel. The entire race was dedicated to warfare, they existed only to find more worlds to take over. They were a plague that comes in the night and scours the planet, they kill and gnash and--”
“Jocy,” Cordwainer said softly, “you’re singing.”
Jocia looked at her partner and realized she had indeed picked up the familiar rhythm. “My apologies, Admiral. The point of the story is that they were eventually stopped by an unknown race. We called them pri’zz’eari. When I described them to Dr. Littlefoot, ze identified them as Seraphim. They are also called ki’yoeh, the hee’j...”
“Angelic beings,” Indira said. “Powerful supernatural creatures.”
“Yes. They banished the Wakerran to wander the far reaches of the uninhabited galaxy. It was meant as a warning. We should always be kind and compassionate to outsiders, lest we suffer the same fate. When the Cetidroi first appeared, we believed they were the basis for the myth. They were a powerful race that came from beyond where even the Paisian had traveled. They shared the same characteristics. But they identified themselves and ended that theory.”
Bauwerji said, “We always suspected there might be other races where the Cetidroi came from. The Wakerran could be one of their neighbors.”
Nerea said, “I found the cycle after Ephor Wison told me what to look for. The Wakerran were not only ferocious, they were nigh unstoppable. None of the races they chose to attack stood a chance at holding them back.”
“This was, what, millions of years ago?” Heely shrugged. “We’re all stronger now. Bigger and faster ships, tougher weapons...”
Bauwerji said, “How did bigger ships work out for you against the Cetidroi? I seem to remember the Balanquin bracijera ships were instrumental in winning that war.”
Indira closed her eyes. “Bowery, is this really the time for this argument?”
Bauwerji sank back against her seat. “I apologize, Admiral.”
Nerea said, “We all have far more advanced technology, yes. But it stands to reason the Wakerran are equally empowered. The Sastruga is a tough ship with a clever crew. They were left completely at their enemy’s mercy before they could get a single shot off. I have no doubts as to the strength of our combined fleets, should it come to another war, but the Wakerran is a complete unknown. They killed a man through a locked door. The only reason Captain Drayton and her crew are alive is because the Wakerran chose to leave them alive.”
Indira said, “So what can we do?”
“We can find information,” Bauwerji said. “Aryana told me the Wakerran was working with Sautoriau mercenaries. She had to hire them somewhere. Instead of just sitting here waiting for them to attack us, we can go on the offensive. If we find where she hired the Sau, maybe we can backtrack and find out where these Wakerran are coming from.”
“Are you volunteering for that mission, XO Crow?”
Bauwerji nodded. “Absolutely. I want to be here to stand our ground if the Wakerran get this far, but hopefully we’ll have enough warning that I can get back.”
Indira said, “Good. Gather a crew to back you up. I’ll find you a ship.”
Nerea said, “The first vessel from the Paisian fleet will arrive in thirteen hours. They would be happy to serve as XO Crow’s transportation for this mission.”
“Excellent. Jocia, I want to know everything your song cycles have about the Wakerran. Constable Heely and I will listen to as many as you can dig up. Just try not to put us to sleep with the nursery rhymes, okay?”
Jocia smiled. “I will do my best.”
“Then we’re dismissed. Good luck with your mission, Bauwerji. Try to keep the wolves from our door, okay?”
“I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
#
Lalan Paget happened to be near the lift outside the Medical Center when Cordwainer Littlefoot emerged. Her presence there wasn’t premeditated, though she admitted she would have camped out for an opportunity to interview one of the doctors. It was just sheer luck that she happened to be there when the highest-ranking physician on the station stepped out of the doors and moved quickly down the corridor.
The doctor seemed deep in thought and Lalan hated to interrupt, but she put aside her discomfort and approached anyway. She had been on the station for days, but she had yet to conduct any true research for her first story. It was daunting to be on the actual station, to sit in the pavilion and see members of so many alien races just casually walking past her table.
It was clear something big was going on. Everyone in command uniforms had a harried look on their face, and the crew of an unregistered ship had been rushed to Medical immediately upon arrival. Lalan turned on the recording device embedded in the collar of her blouse as she approached the doctor. Cordwainer was Human, like her, and Lalan hoped that meant ze would be more willing to talk. Hir skin was light tan, her hair gray giving in to white around the temples.
“Excuse me, Dr. Littlefoot?”
Ze glanced at Lalan without paying her much attention. “I’m sorry, but I’m really rather busy.”
“I know, I can only imagine. There’s been a lot of activity around the station the past couple of days. I was hoping you could escort me up to the pilothouse so I could speak to Admiral Reshef about it.”
“Admiral Reshef is the busiest of us all,” the doctor said. “I’m sure whatever you need to discuss can wait. If you’ll excuse me.”
Lalan fell into step with Cordwainer as ze started to walk away. “My name is Lalan Paget. I’m a representative of the Home Press.”
“Oh, right. I heard you were due. For a journalist, you’ve been doing a rather good job of keeping to yourself. Hopefully that doesn’t mean you’ve been spying on us from a distance.”
“Not at all. I was just acclimating to the station. I’m sure you can understand what it’s like. Getting used to all the aliens. But it seems like there’s a story waiting to be told. Is it true that the Sastruga was attacked by an unknown ship?”
Cordwainer said, “I’m certain Admiral Reshef wouldn’t like me discussing private matters in a public forum.”
“So the people living here on the station have no cause for alarm?”
“When there is cause for alarm, they will of course be alerted.” Ze stopped and took a deep breath, choosing hir next words carefully. “People should not be alarmed. Cautious, perhaps. But that is certainly nothing new here on the station.”
“Certainly not,” Lalan said.
Cordwainer smiled, then offered her hand. “I have forgotten my manners. Cordwainer Littlefoot.”
“Yes, I know.” She shook hir hand. “I did extensive research before and during the journey out here. One thing about the trip from Earth, it gives you plenty of time to catch up on your reading.”
Cordwainer nodded and scanned the corridor around them. “And once you’re out here, it doesn’t take very long to discover that there’s only so much you can learn from reading. Do you know what happened to the last reporter assigned to the Quay?”
Lalan furrowed her brow. “I assumed his assignment ended and he went home.”
Cordwainer shook hir head. “He had seventeen months left on his assignment. But he quit. He resigned from his post, sent back the money he’d already been paid, and declared he wouldn’t be writing anymore ‘propaganda’ for the people back home to distort. The people on Earth don’t want to know the harsh facts about what’s really happening out here. They want to know everything is peachy, the aliens love and depend on us, and that we all get along a hundred percent of the time.”
“And that’s not true?”
Cordwainer looked at her with pity. “How could it possibly be true? There are six races permanently residing aboard this station. Humans can’t even coexist peacefully with ourselves. Do you know Earth and Pelorum are the only worlds that still have intraplanetary wars?” Ze sighed. “The truth is, we’re the young and embarrassing race that would probably have been wiped out by the Cetidroi if it weren’t for the Balanquin people. A generation ago, our best and brightest managed to put a space station right where our neighbors needed it. But we’re not essential to them.”
“But the Quay is a vital position between several great powers. That has to count for something.”
Cordwainer shrugged. “Imagine the universe is a vast campus with the greatest minds from history employed as professors. Einstein, Plato, Tesla, Archimedes, Diotima... they all wander back and forth between each other’s classrooms to have deep conversations about the meaning of life. They walk along the same long path every day. Then, one day, without realizing the path was even being used, a member of the janitorial staff places a bench at the midway point between all the classrooms. Suddenly Albert and Nikola can have a seat if they get winded walking from one classroom to the other.”
“So Humanity is... just a groundskeeper?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Groundskeepers and janitors are vital. They keep the world from falling to ruin. They fix the problems that would never even occur to the great thinkers. But that doesn’t mean the philosophers respect the contribution of the bench.”
“That may well be,” she said, “but the fact remains that it is still a hell of a bench.”
Cordwainer smiled. “Indeed it is. And right now, the groundskeepers are extremely occupied with maintenance. The analogy has fallen apart a bit, but hopefully you understand why I can’t take you to see the admiral at this time.”
“Of course. You’ve given me a lot to think about, Dr. Littlefoot. I hope we can speak again sometime in a non-professional setting.”
“For both of us,” Cordwainer said. “I would hate to continue this conversation with you as my patient.”
“I would be lucky to have you as my doctor.”
They shook hands and Lalan let Cordwainer continue into the Med Center. Once the doctor was gone, she stood and watched the rest of the crowd moving past her. A trio of Acapsian lingered near the elevator, deep in conversation. An Occamian came out of an office and smoothed a hand over his tunic before continuing on. She walked against the flow of the crowd to the nearest viewscreen and peered at the vista outside the hull.
The Quay was trapped between a sea of asteroids that could tear it to shreds, and the skeletal remains of a devastating war, but it sailed smoothly through the darkness due to the dedication and skill of everyone aboard. Whatever crisis had arisen, she had faith that those in command were well suited to the task. In the meantime, this was Earth’s front door. Humanity may be the groundskeepers of the Universe, but they still deserved what to know what was going on. They were owed the truth, even if it was frightening or if Humans didn’t get to be the heroes.
Lalan was determined to be the one who pulled back the veil.
Now, on with the story!
Chapter Ten
“You must understand,” Jocia said, “that we don’t often discuss this with outsiders. It’s not because we consider it a great secret but because it’s just a silly myth.”
They were gathered in the briefing room again. This time Cordwainer was present. Ze had been filled in about their earlier conversation. Jocia was uncomfortable being the center of attention, but she focused on the information she had to share.
“The description Nerea found was a reference to one of our song cycles. It’s a tale passed down from generation to generation. Ladronis parents use story songs to teach their toddlers... well, many things. The same thing parents of other species use stories for, I suppose. One of the cycles is about the Wakerran, a fierce and monstrous race that existed at the beginning of time. They were vicious and cruel. The entire race was dedicated to warfare, they existed only to find more worlds to take over. They were a plague that comes in the night and scours the planet, they kill and gnash and--”
“Jocy,” Cordwainer said softly, “you’re singing.”
Jocia looked at her partner and realized she had indeed picked up the familiar rhythm. “My apologies, Admiral. The point of the story is that they were eventually stopped by an unknown race. We called them pri’zz’eari. When I described them to Dr. Littlefoot, ze identified them as Seraphim. They are also called ki’yoeh, the hee’j...”
“Angelic beings,” Indira said. “Powerful supernatural creatures.”
“Yes. They banished the Wakerran to wander the far reaches of the uninhabited galaxy. It was meant as a warning. We should always be kind and compassionate to outsiders, lest we suffer the same fate. When the Cetidroi first appeared, we believed they were the basis for the myth. They were a powerful race that came from beyond where even the Paisian had traveled. They shared the same characteristics. But they identified themselves and ended that theory.”
Bauwerji said, “We always suspected there might be other races where the Cetidroi came from. The Wakerran could be one of their neighbors.”
Nerea said, “I found the cycle after Ephor Wison told me what to look for. The Wakerran were not only ferocious, they were nigh unstoppable. None of the races they chose to attack stood a chance at holding them back.”
“This was, what, millions of years ago?” Heely shrugged. “We’re all stronger now. Bigger and faster ships, tougher weapons...”
Bauwerji said, “How did bigger ships work out for you against the Cetidroi? I seem to remember the Balanquin bracijera ships were instrumental in winning that war.”
Indira closed her eyes. “Bowery, is this really the time for this argument?”
Bauwerji sank back against her seat. “I apologize, Admiral.”
Nerea said, “We all have far more advanced technology, yes. But it stands to reason the Wakerran are equally empowered. The Sastruga is a tough ship with a clever crew. They were left completely at their enemy’s mercy before they could get a single shot off. I have no doubts as to the strength of our combined fleets, should it come to another war, but the Wakerran is a complete unknown. They killed a man through a locked door. The only reason Captain Drayton and her crew are alive is because the Wakerran chose to leave them alive.”
Indira said, “So what can we do?”
“We can find information,” Bauwerji said. “Aryana told me the Wakerran was working with Sautoriau mercenaries. She had to hire them somewhere. Instead of just sitting here waiting for them to attack us, we can go on the offensive. If we find where she hired the Sau, maybe we can backtrack and find out where these Wakerran are coming from.”
“Are you volunteering for that mission, XO Crow?”
Bauwerji nodded. “Absolutely. I want to be here to stand our ground if the Wakerran get this far, but hopefully we’ll have enough warning that I can get back.”
Indira said, “Good. Gather a crew to back you up. I’ll find you a ship.”
Nerea said, “The first vessel from the Paisian fleet will arrive in thirteen hours. They would be happy to serve as XO Crow’s transportation for this mission.”
“Excellent. Jocia, I want to know everything your song cycles have about the Wakerran. Constable Heely and I will listen to as many as you can dig up. Just try not to put us to sleep with the nursery rhymes, okay?”
Jocia smiled. “I will do my best.”
“Then we’re dismissed. Good luck with your mission, Bauwerji. Try to keep the wolves from our door, okay?”
“I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
#
Lalan Paget happened to be near the lift outside the Medical Center when Cordwainer Littlefoot emerged. Her presence there wasn’t premeditated, though she admitted she would have camped out for an opportunity to interview one of the doctors. It was just sheer luck that she happened to be there when the highest-ranking physician on the station stepped out of the doors and moved quickly down the corridor.
The doctor seemed deep in thought and Lalan hated to interrupt, but she put aside her discomfort and approached anyway. She had been on the station for days, but she had yet to conduct any true research for her first story. It was daunting to be on the actual station, to sit in the pavilion and see members of so many alien races just casually walking past her table.
It was clear something big was going on. Everyone in command uniforms had a harried look on their face, and the crew of an unregistered ship had been rushed to Medical immediately upon arrival. Lalan turned on the recording device embedded in the collar of her blouse as she approached the doctor. Cordwainer was Human, like her, and Lalan hoped that meant ze would be more willing to talk. Hir skin was light tan, her hair gray giving in to white around the temples.
“Excuse me, Dr. Littlefoot?”
Ze glanced at Lalan without paying her much attention. “I’m sorry, but I’m really rather busy.”
“I know, I can only imagine. There’s been a lot of activity around the station the past couple of days. I was hoping you could escort me up to the pilothouse so I could speak to Admiral Reshef about it.”
“Admiral Reshef is the busiest of us all,” the doctor said. “I’m sure whatever you need to discuss can wait. If you’ll excuse me.”
Lalan fell into step with Cordwainer as ze started to walk away. “My name is Lalan Paget. I’m a representative of the Home Press.”
“Oh, right. I heard you were due. For a journalist, you’ve been doing a rather good job of keeping to yourself. Hopefully that doesn’t mean you’ve been spying on us from a distance.”
“Not at all. I was just acclimating to the station. I’m sure you can understand what it’s like. Getting used to all the aliens. But it seems like there’s a story waiting to be told. Is it true that the Sastruga was attacked by an unknown ship?”
Cordwainer said, “I’m certain Admiral Reshef wouldn’t like me discussing private matters in a public forum.”
“So the people living here on the station have no cause for alarm?”
“When there is cause for alarm, they will of course be alerted.” Ze stopped and took a deep breath, choosing hir next words carefully. “People should not be alarmed. Cautious, perhaps. But that is certainly nothing new here on the station.”
“Certainly not,” Lalan said.
Cordwainer smiled, then offered her hand. “I have forgotten my manners. Cordwainer Littlefoot.”
“Yes, I know.” She shook hir hand. “I did extensive research before and during the journey out here. One thing about the trip from Earth, it gives you plenty of time to catch up on your reading.”
Cordwainer nodded and scanned the corridor around them. “And once you’re out here, it doesn’t take very long to discover that there’s only so much you can learn from reading. Do you know what happened to the last reporter assigned to the Quay?”
Lalan furrowed her brow. “I assumed his assignment ended and he went home.”
Cordwainer shook hir head. “He had seventeen months left on his assignment. But he quit. He resigned from his post, sent back the money he’d already been paid, and declared he wouldn’t be writing anymore ‘propaganda’ for the people back home to distort. The people on Earth don’t want to know the harsh facts about what’s really happening out here. They want to know everything is peachy, the aliens love and depend on us, and that we all get along a hundred percent of the time.”
“And that’s not true?”
Cordwainer looked at her with pity. “How could it possibly be true? There are six races permanently residing aboard this station. Humans can’t even coexist peacefully with ourselves. Do you know Earth and Pelorum are the only worlds that still have intraplanetary wars?” Ze sighed. “The truth is, we’re the young and embarrassing race that would probably have been wiped out by the Cetidroi if it weren’t for the Balanquin people. A generation ago, our best and brightest managed to put a space station right where our neighbors needed it. But we’re not essential to them.”
“But the Quay is a vital position between several great powers. That has to count for something.”
Cordwainer shrugged. “Imagine the universe is a vast campus with the greatest minds from history employed as professors. Einstein, Plato, Tesla, Archimedes, Diotima... they all wander back and forth between each other’s classrooms to have deep conversations about the meaning of life. They walk along the same long path every day. Then, one day, without realizing the path was even being used, a member of the janitorial staff places a bench at the midway point between all the classrooms. Suddenly Albert and Nikola can have a seat if they get winded walking from one classroom to the other.”
“So Humanity is... just a groundskeeper?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Groundskeepers and janitors are vital. They keep the world from falling to ruin. They fix the problems that would never even occur to the great thinkers. But that doesn’t mean the philosophers respect the contribution of the bench.”
“That may well be,” she said, “but the fact remains that it is still a hell of a bench.”
Cordwainer smiled. “Indeed it is. And right now, the groundskeepers are extremely occupied with maintenance. The analogy has fallen apart a bit, but hopefully you understand why I can’t take you to see the admiral at this time.”
“Of course. You’ve given me a lot to think about, Dr. Littlefoot. I hope we can speak again sometime in a non-professional setting.”
“For both of us,” Cordwainer said. “I would hate to continue this conversation with you as my patient.”
“I would be lucky to have you as my doctor.”
They shook hands and Lalan let Cordwainer continue into the Med Center. Once the doctor was gone, she stood and watched the rest of the crowd moving past her. A trio of Acapsian lingered near the elevator, deep in conversation. An Occamian came out of an office and smoothed a hand over his tunic before continuing on. She walked against the flow of the crowd to the nearest viewscreen and peered at the vista outside the hull.
The Quay was trapped between a sea of asteroids that could tear it to shreds, and the skeletal remains of a devastating war, but it sailed smoothly through the darkness due to the dedication and skill of everyone aboard. Whatever crisis had arisen, she had faith that those in command were well suited to the task. In the meantime, this was Earth’s front door. Humanity may be the groundskeepers of the Universe, but they still deserved what to know what was going on. They were owed the truth, even if it was frightening or if Humans didn’t get to be the heroes.
Lalan was determined to be the one who pulled back the veil.