Original: "The Remnant Fleet," Chapter 21
Another chapter! Boom! Yesterday didn't have an update because I was focused on Trafalgar & Boone release stuff. Have you got your copy yet?!
Chapter Twenty-one
Bauwerji watched the Sastruga’s departure from the pilothouse, eavesdropping on the yeoman who directed Cicero through the debris field. She was still thinking about their goodbye. Something had been left unsaid between them, some large conversation that was supposedly hidden under the actual words being said. Bauwerji was rarely good at picking up on cues like that from Humans. She found it difficult to understand much of anything Humans did, in fact. They were crude and aggressive creatures. Impulsive. Frustrating.
The first time she met Cicero, it was because the Sastruga had been detained for suspected smuggling. Security forces detained her crew, but Bauwerji wanted to meet the captain herself. They were introduced to each other in a small room rigged with monitoring equipment. Captain Drayton was suave and bemused by her incarceration. Bauwerji was sick of dealing with egotistical pirates and wanted to make an example of their latest capture.
“This meeting is being recorded,” Bauwerji said.
“You’re Balanquin, right? I have a Balanquin engineer.”
She ignored her, pulled out the seat, and lowered herself into it. “I’m XO Bauwerji Crow. I’m the second-in-command of this station. State your name for the record, please.”
“Cicerone Drayton, Human, from Earth, Barysaw, Belarus. Ever heard of it?”
“I have not.”
“You have beautiful eyes.”
Bauwerji glared at her. “Captain Drayton, you’re being accused of carrying contraband from Okoan to Ladrona. How do you answer these charges?”
Cicero put her elbow on the table and cupped her chin. “My ship was hired to move cargo from Solivislad Dea on Okoan to a temple on Ladrona. I operate under the auspices of Blind Assurance. The law protects me if I remain ignorant as to what I’m carrying, which I was. If you really want to punish someone, it will have to be the person who hired me to take that equipment to Ladrona in the first place. Are you queer?”
Bauwerji furrowed her brow and tried not to show she was thrown by the question. “To punish those who hired you, I would have to know their names.”
“And that information is protected under the Covenant Act. I am not at liberty to reveal the identity of my clients to anyone, even the Aphelion Project. But I would really like to know if you’re interested in female companionship. Most Balanquin are pansexual, right? But I know from experience that a lot of them lean toward one gender or the other.”
Bauwerji stood up. “If you’re not interested in helping us, then there’s no need for this to continue.” She almost left, but then she added, “Regardless of gender, I’m not particularly fond of interspecies fraternization.”
“So you’ve never been with a non-Balanquin.”
“I’ve...” She sighed and looked away; her hesitation had already provided enough of an answer.
Cicero smiled. “Let me take you to dinner.”
“No.” She opened the door. “There will be a guard outside. If you choose to be helpful, he will get in contact with me.”
A few days later, the Sastruga was cleared and permitted to leave. Bauwerji was surprised when she went to the pavilion and saw Cicero sitting outside one of the Balanquin restaurants with a plate of shauv in front of her. The meal was only half-eaten, and the Human was definitely daunted by the idea of finishing. Bauwerji ordered a glass of ch’ko and carried it over. She poured half the contents over Cicero’s plate and then sat down.
“It’s more palatable with the sauce.”
Cicero smiled sheepishly. “It wasn’t terribly bad without it.”
“I’ve never met a Human able to stomach it dry. There’s no shame in using the seasoning. I think it tastes better with the sauce, to be honest.” She looked at the half-eaten plate. “I got a very comprehensive lesson in obscure Ladronis religious ceremonies today.”
“Is that so?” She tried a bite of her food with the sauce and gave an approving nod. “What brought that up?”
“You did. During the interrogation you mentioned that you had been hired to deliver this contraband to a temple.”
Cicero narrowed her eyes and pretended to think. “Did I?”
“So I brought it up with Ephor Wison, our envoy to Ladrona. I described what we found on your ship and told her where you claimed to be going. She said there’s a very small sect on the lower landmass of her planet. They use that equipment to add to the Great Chorus. The larger governments think the music they produce is disharmonious, or something to that effect, so they banned it. The argument could be made that, while you were breaking the letter of the law, you were doing something that was essentially, morally right.”
“Hm. I mean, that certainly sounds plausible.”
Bauwerji said, “At any rate, we couldn’t prove malicious intent. Your ship has been cleared for release for over three hours. I would have thought you’d be halfway to your next confidential job by now.” She reached across the table and picked off a piece of the shauv. She popped it into her mouth and chewed. A bit spongy still. She added some more sauce.
“You weren’t the only one thinking about our encounter in the interrogation room. I thought maybe I’d given you the impression I was only interested in you as an exoticism. I didn’t want to have dinner with you just because you were Balanquin. You’re a tough, high-ranking officer on a station where your people make up... what, three percent of the population?”
“Nine,” Bauwerji said. “On a good day.”
Cicero said, “I’m in a profession where ninety-nine percent of the people I deal with have never seen a Human before. I get treated like... well, I think you can imagine how I get treated. I was inspired when I saw you. I wanted to know more about you. I only brought it up in a romantic context because I... well... because you’re also really gorgeous.”
Bauwerji fought the smile, but it spread across her face anyway.
“What did you say your first name was?”
“Bauwerji. Most non-Balanquin can’t say it properly, so they just call me Bowery.”
Cicero said, “But that’s not your name. Say it again? A little slower.”
“Bah-wahr-j-yee.”
Cicero repeated it. Bauwerji corrected the pronunciation at the end, the complex “-rji” suffix that gave so many races trouble.
“Bauwerji,” Cicero said.
“That’s close.”
Cicero shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to practice. Over dinner?”
“You don’t give up.”
“No. Not easily.”
Bauwerji sighed and closed her eyes. “I suppose one meal would be fine.”
Cicero grinned. “Fantastic.”
Years later, Bauwerji was running over the much different conversation they’d just had. Cicero wasn’t just saying ‘until next time.’ She was saying a final goodbye, just in case it had to be their last. Maybe she was anxious about the current climate. Maybe she thought the Wakerran would show up and lay waste to the station before the Sastruga came back. Or maybe she was going to do something incredibly stupid.
She was aware of someone moving to stand beside her. She knew without looking that it was Admiral Reshef.
“The Sastruga is away, ma’am. Captain Drayton gave seventeen hours as an estimated time of return.”
“Excellent. Keep me apprised.” Indira remained where she was.
“Was there something else?”
“I don’t know, Bauwerji. Was there?”
Bauwerji started to deny it, but she sighed. “Just concerned, ma’am. About the general state of things.”
“Understandable. It’s a very stressful time. But no matter how busy things get, if you need to talk, my office door is open.”
“Thank you.”
Bauwerji felt comforted by Indira’s offer. One thing she’d never had during any of the other conflicts she’d fought was a commanding officer she could trust. She knew she could be honest, open, and vulnerable with the admiral without sacrificing her respect. Joining the Quay had been her only option at the time. Now she was certain it had saved her life. Being part of the station’s crew gave her a purpose, yes, but it also gave her a family she could count on in moments of strife.
She was moments from surrendering, from going to Indira’s office for a nice long conversation about Cicero, when her communicator chimed.
“This is XO Crow.”
“Officer Crow,” a male voice responded. “This is Constable Merspeth from the detention center. It’s the Sau mercenaries we took into custody from the Wakerran ship. They’re... they’re all asleep, ma’am.”
Bauwerji frowned. “It may be their sleep cycle, Constable.”
“No, ma’am, you don’t understand. They all just... lost consciousness.”
She was moving toward the lift. “All at the same time?”
“We checked the surveillance logs. The same time, down to the second.”
Bauwerji signaled to Indira. “I’ll be right down.” The Admiral hurried from her office and met Bauwerji at the lifts. She explained what she had just heard.
Indira said, “Sau don’t have sleep cycles, do they?”
“Not that I’m aware of. To be fair, I’m not exactly an expert in Sautoriau biology.” The lift arrived. “Do we have one of those aboard, by chance?”
“I’ll check with the resident biologists, but I wouldn’t be too hopeful. I’ll check while you’re in the detention center.”
Bauwerji nodded and stepped into the lift. A few minutes later she was delivered to the holding cells, where Merspeth was waiting for her. She started walking toward the cells, and Merspeth filled her in as he fell into step beside her.
“The mercenaries were processed, numbered, and locked in their cages at fifteen past the hour. The guard on duty noticed the lack of movement. We checked the monitors after we established every single prisoner was asleep.”
Bauwerji said, “Were any non-Sau prisoners affected?”
“No, ma’am. We have an Occamian and a Human incarcerated and they’re both still wide awake. And everyone on duty is conscious as well.”
Bauwerji had reached the first cell with an affected prisoner. He was sitting at the desk next to his bed, slumped forward with his head on the table and one arm dangling by his side. Bauwerji continued on to the next cell, where the Sau seemed to have fallen while standing in the middle of the room.
Merspeth said, “If you have any theories, ma’am, I would be open to hearing them.”
Bauwerji shook her head slowly. “If there are four people operating as one entity called the Socigines, then it stands to reason they’re linked somehow. Telepathically would be my guess. If that is the case, then it stands to reason the Socigines linked themselves to the Sau mercenaries as a way to keep them in check. Easy to stop a mutiny if you’re pulling the puppet strings of the people in your employ. She might have cut the strings to prevent any of them from talking to us.”
Merspeth said, “But could she do that while she was unconscious?”
“Maybe there was a timed delay. If she didn’t send them any signals after... what, twelve hours? Less? Then the failsafe kicked in and they all just went to sleep.” Her communicator chimed again. She resisted the urge to sigh as she activated it. “XO Crow.”
“Bauwerji, this is Dr. Littlefoot. I thought you would want to know our guest has woken.”
“How long ago?”
“She was playing possum for a while. Ah, feigning sleep. But her vital signs indicated she was alert, and she gave up the ruse when we confronted her. I would say she’s been conscious for fifteen minutes.”
Bauwerji looked at Merspeth. “Fifteen minutes?”
He checked his watch and nodded. The Sau mercenaries had all passed out fifteen minutes ago. “Is she still being exposed to the knockout gas?”
“Yes, ma’am. But it would appear she’s developed a resistance to it.”
“Fantastic,” Bauwerji muttered. “I’ll be up as soon as I can. I want to talk with her again.”
Merspeth stopped her from walking away. “Ma’am... what do you suggest we do?”
“Do?” She looked at the unconscious Sau. “We are currently hosting a prisoner from a race we know nothing about, and we just discovered she’s a powerful telepath with the ability to take out a dozen people over a distance of half the station. We have no way of stopping her, and as of right now we have no way of knocking her out or rendering her helpless. You can think up ways out of this mess and tell me if you come up with anything.”
“Yes, ma’am. Will do.”
She sighed and pushed a hand through her hair as she walked back to the lift. It was time to have another conversation with the Socigines. Her hand went to the bandaged wound on her side and hoped this talk led to less bloodshed.
Chapter Twenty-one
Bauwerji watched the Sastruga’s departure from the pilothouse, eavesdropping on the yeoman who directed Cicero through the debris field. She was still thinking about their goodbye. Something had been left unsaid between them, some large conversation that was supposedly hidden under the actual words being said. Bauwerji was rarely good at picking up on cues like that from Humans. She found it difficult to understand much of anything Humans did, in fact. They were crude and aggressive creatures. Impulsive. Frustrating.
The first time she met Cicero, it was because the Sastruga had been detained for suspected smuggling. Security forces detained her crew, but Bauwerji wanted to meet the captain herself. They were introduced to each other in a small room rigged with monitoring equipment. Captain Drayton was suave and bemused by her incarceration. Bauwerji was sick of dealing with egotistical pirates and wanted to make an example of their latest capture.
“This meeting is being recorded,” Bauwerji said.
“You’re Balanquin, right? I have a Balanquin engineer.”
She ignored her, pulled out the seat, and lowered herself into it. “I’m XO Bauwerji Crow. I’m the second-in-command of this station. State your name for the record, please.”
“Cicerone Drayton, Human, from Earth, Barysaw, Belarus. Ever heard of it?”
“I have not.”
“You have beautiful eyes.”
Bauwerji glared at her. “Captain Drayton, you’re being accused of carrying contraband from Okoan to Ladrona. How do you answer these charges?”
Cicero put her elbow on the table and cupped her chin. “My ship was hired to move cargo from Solivislad Dea on Okoan to a temple on Ladrona. I operate under the auspices of Blind Assurance. The law protects me if I remain ignorant as to what I’m carrying, which I was. If you really want to punish someone, it will have to be the person who hired me to take that equipment to Ladrona in the first place. Are you queer?”
Bauwerji furrowed her brow and tried not to show she was thrown by the question. “To punish those who hired you, I would have to know their names.”
“And that information is protected under the Covenant Act. I am not at liberty to reveal the identity of my clients to anyone, even the Aphelion Project. But I would really like to know if you’re interested in female companionship. Most Balanquin are pansexual, right? But I know from experience that a lot of them lean toward one gender or the other.”
Bauwerji stood up. “If you’re not interested in helping us, then there’s no need for this to continue.” She almost left, but then she added, “Regardless of gender, I’m not particularly fond of interspecies fraternization.”
“So you’ve never been with a non-Balanquin.”
“I’ve...” She sighed and looked away; her hesitation had already provided enough of an answer.
Cicero smiled. “Let me take you to dinner.”
“No.” She opened the door. “There will be a guard outside. If you choose to be helpful, he will get in contact with me.”
A few days later, the Sastruga was cleared and permitted to leave. Bauwerji was surprised when she went to the pavilion and saw Cicero sitting outside one of the Balanquin restaurants with a plate of shauv in front of her. The meal was only half-eaten, and the Human was definitely daunted by the idea of finishing. Bauwerji ordered a glass of ch’ko and carried it over. She poured half the contents over Cicero’s plate and then sat down.
“It’s more palatable with the sauce.”
Cicero smiled sheepishly. “It wasn’t terribly bad without it.”
“I’ve never met a Human able to stomach it dry. There’s no shame in using the seasoning. I think it tastes better with the sauce, to be honest.” She looked at the half-eaten plate. “I got a very comprehensive lesson in obscure Ladronis religious ceremonies today.”
“Is that so?” She tried a bite of her food with the sauce and gave an approving nod. “What brought that up?”
“You did. During the interrogation you mentioned that you had been hired to deliver this contraband to a temple.”
Cicero narrowed her eyes and pretended to think. “Did I?”
“So I brought it up with Ephor Wison, our envoy to Ladrona. I described what we found on your ship and told her where you claimed to be going. She said there’s a very small sect on the lower landmass of her planet. They use that equipment to add to the Great Chorus. The larger governments think the music they produce is disharmonious, or something to that effect, so they banned it. The argument could be made that, while you were breaking the letter of the law, you were doing something that was essentially, morally right.”
“Hm. I mean, that certainly sounds plausible.”
Bauwerji said, “At any rate, we couldn’t prove malicious intent. Your ship has been cleared for release for over three hours. I would have thought you’d be halfway to your next confidential job by now.” She reached across the table and picked off a piece of the shauv. She popped it into her mouth and chewed. A bit spongy still. She added some more sauce.
“You weren’t the only one thinking about our encounter in the interrogation room. I thought maybe I’d given you the impression I was only interested in you as an exoticism. I didn’t want to have dinner with you just because you were Balanquin. You’re a tough, high-ranking officer on a station where your people make up... what, three percent of the population?”
“Nine,” Bauwerji said. “On a good day.”
Cicero said, “I’m in a profession where ninety-nine percent of the people I deal with have never seen a Human before. I get treated like... well, I think you can imagine how I get treated. I was inspired when I saw you. I wanted to know more about you. I only brought it up in a romantic context because I... well... because you’re also really gorgeous.”
Bauwerji fought the smile, but it spread across her face anyway.
“What did you say your first name was?”
“Bauwerji. Most non-Balanquin can’t say it properly, so they just call me Bowery.”
Cicero said, “But that’s not your name. Say it again? A little slower.”
“Bah-wahr-j-yee.”
Cicero repeated it. Bauwerji corrected the pronunciation at the end, the complex “-rji” suffix that gave so many races trouble.
“Bauwerji,” Cicero said.
“That’s close.”
Cicero shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to practice. Over dinner?”
“You don’t give up.”
“No. Not easily.”
Bauwerji sighed and closed her eyes. “I suppose one meal would be fine.”
Cicero grinned. “Fantastic.”
Years later, Bauwerji was running over the much different conversation they’d just had. Cicero wasn’t just saying ‘until next time.’ She was saying a final goodbye, just in case it had to be their last. Maybe she was anxious about the current climate. Maybe she thought the Wakerran would show up and lay waste to the station before the Sastruga came back. Or maybe she was going to do something incredibly stupid.
She was aware of someone moving to stand beside her. She knew without looking that it was Admiral Reshef.
“The Sastruga is away, ma’am. Captain Drayton gave seventeen hours as an estimated time of return.”
“Excellent. Keep me apprised.” Indira remained where she was.
“Was there something else?”
“I don’t know, Bauwerji. Was there?”
Bauwerji started to deny it, but she sighed. “Just concerned, ma’am. About the general state of things.”
“Understandable. It’s a very stressful time. But no matter how busy things get, if you need to talk, my office door is open.”
“Thank you.”
Bauwerji felt comforted by Indira’s offer. One thing she’d never had during any of the other conflicts she’d fought was a commanding officer she could trust. She knew she could be honest, open, and vulnerable with the admiral without sacrificing her respect. Joining the Quay had been her only option at the time. Now she was certain it had saved her life. Being part of the station’s crew gave her a purpose, yes, but it also gave her a family she could count on in moments of strife.
She was moments from surrendering, from going to Indira’s office for a nice long conversation about Cicero, when her communicator chimed.
“This is XO Crow.”
“Officer Crow,” a male voice responded. “This is Constable Merspeth from the detention center. It’s the Sau mercenaries we took into custody from the Wakerran ship. They’re... they’re all asleep, ma’am.”
Bauwerji frowned. “It may be their sleep cycle, Constable.”
“No, ma’am, you don’t understand. They all just... lost consciousness.”
She was moving toward the lift. “All at the same time?”
“We checked the surveillance logs. The same time, down to the second.”
Bauwerji signaled to Indira. “I’ll be right down.” The Admiral hurried from her office and met Bauwerji at the lifts. She explained what she had just heard.
Indira said, “Sau don’t have sleep cycles, do they?”
“Not that I’m aware of. To be fair, I’m not exactly an expert in Sautoriau biology.” The lift arrived. “Do we have one of those aboard, by chance?”
“I’ll check with the resident biologists, but I wouldn’t be too hopeful. I’ll check while you’re in the detention center.”
Bauwerji nodded and stepped into the lift. A few minutes later she was delivered to the holding cells, where Merspeth was waiting for her. She started walking toward the cells, and Merspeth filled her in as he fell into step beside her.
“The mercenaries were processed, numbered, and locked in their cages at fifteen past the hour. The guard on duty noticed the lack of movement. We checked the monitors after we established every single prisoner was asleep.”
Bauwerji said, “Were any non-Sau prisoners affected?”
“No, ma’am. We have an Occamian and a Human incarcerated and they’re both still wide awake. And everyone on duty is conscious as well.”
Bauwerji had reached the first cell with an affected prisoner. He was sitting at the desk next to his bed, slumped forward with his head on the table and one arm dangling by his side. Bauwerji continued on to the next cell, where the Sau seemed to have fallen while standing in the middle of the room.
Merspeth said, “If you have any theories, ma’am, I would be open to hearing them.”
Bauwerji shook her head slowly. “If there are four people operating as one entity called the Socigines, then it stands to reason they’re linked somehow. Telepathically would be my guess. If that is the case, then it stands to reason the Socigines linked themselves to the Sau mercenaries as a way to keep them in check. Easy to stop a mutiny if you’re pulling the puppet strings of the people in your employ. She might have cut the strings to prevent any of them from talking to us.”
Merspeth said, “But could she do that while she was unconscious?”
“Maybe there was a timed delay. If she didn’t send them any signals after... what, twelve hours? Less? Then the failsafe kicked in and they all just went to sleep.” Her communicator chimed again. She resisted the urge to sigh as she activated it. “XO Crow.”
“Bauwerji, this is Dr. Littlefoot. I thought you would want to know our guest has woken.”
“How long ago?”
“She was playing possum for a while. Ah, feigning sleep. But her vital signs indicated she was alert, and she gave up the ruse when we confronted her. I would say she’s been conscious for fifteen minutes.”
Bauwerji looked at Merspeth. “Fifteen minutes?”
He checked his watch and nodded. The Sau mercenaries had all passed out fifteen minutes ago. “Is she still being exposed to the knockout gas?”
“Yes, ma’am. But it would appear she’s developed a resistance to it.”
“Fantastic,” Bauwerji muttered. “I’ll be up as soon as I can. I want to talk with her again.”
Merspeth stopped her from walking away. “Ma’am... what do you suggest we do?”
“Do?” She looked at the unconscious Sau. “We are currently hosting a prisoner from a race we know nothing about, and we just discovered she’s a powerful telepath with the ability to take out a dozen people over a distance of half the station. We have no way of stopping her, and as of right now we have no way of knocking her out or rendering her helpless. You can think up ways out of this mess and tell me if you come up with anything.”
“Yes, ma’am. Will do.”
She sighed and pushed a hand through her hair as she walked back to the lift. It was time to have another conversation with the Socigines. Her hand went to the bandaged wound on her side and hoped this talk led to less bloodshed.