“She said what?!”
Jackson’s whispered outburst bounced off the walls of the mess hall. Because this wasn’t a military vessel, the distinction between officers and ‘regular’ personnel weren’t as pronounced, but there was still an air of reverence that surrounded the bridge crew. That’s why it was never that hard to find a table when they were having dinner. Even though it could be a little isolating at times, they also never really had to sit alone either. Next to him sat Alex Nguyen, nibbling quietly on a rice-cake, both of them across from Clinton and Andromeda. Clinton, for his part, looked a little guilty at least, as if he’d had anything to do with the decision making regarding their stay on the Core World.
“Two days. That’s it, Manderley.” Clinton sipped his tea and scooted a little closer to Andromeda, who scooted a little closer to him. It would’ve been cute if Jackson hadn’t been mildly annoyed with him.
“But why? We’re setting down on the first colonized world in human history and we’re not staying longer than a barbecue at my grandmother’s house.” He didn’t want to whine. But Jackson was frustrated, and he felt he wasn’t the only one. There were noises of agreement and a couple of chuckles around him.
“Admiralty decision,” Clinton said, sighed and stirred the little spoon in his cup. “Apparently we’ve been invited to do a tour of some of some alien homeworlds, leave some staff here, and pick them up again after.” He looked around the table. “Volunteers first, but there’s a detachment that will be staying here. Also, after contact was established between the Admiralty and the First Federation, they agreed to get some locals on board, too.”
“Holy shit,” Jackson said and rubbed his face. He scratched lightly at his perfectly maintained stubble and considered the implications. “We’re gonna have an alien crew.”
“Yeah. So we stay there for two days -- everyone is expected to set foot outside at least once -- and then we move on to…” Clinton paused and frowned. “Dang, I forgot which one.” Andromeda smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
“You’re cute when you don’t know how to cuss,” she said, and Clinton shot her a glare and a blush.
“Anyway,” he said, straightening up a bit. “We’ll all be given a primer on the Core World, with a whole-ass--” he winked at Andromeda, “--documentary attached. I think everyone is gonna have to watch it so we don’t accidentally catch space-flu or cause some kind of intergalactic incident.”
A few people around him groaned, but Jackson saw the use of it, even if he didn’t look forward to another several-hour long video explaining everything to him. For the most part, he just wanted to go out there and meet people. Meet aliens. Two days wasn’t nearly long enough to get to know someone, but with some luck, the ones joining on the ship would be interesting enough. Jackson had a way with people and he was very curious to see if that would translate to non-humans. “So what’s this place called, anyway?” he asked. “People keep calling it ‘The Core World’, but we don’t all refer to, like, Cairo, for example, as ‘The Egyptian Capital’, all the time.”
Clinton smirked. “That’s a… good question, with a funny answer,” he said. Andromeda gave him a knowing smile as she chewed on some toast. Clearly she already knew. Jackson liked Clinton Blake. The first officer was quiet, professional to a fault, but also clever and with a good ear for the needs of the crew. His stunt during the ‘test’ had put him on a lot of people’s radar -- and in their good graces. He had the crew’s best interests at heart, that much was very clear. However, when he was in full officer-mode, he could be downright infuriating.
“Are you… going to share it with us?” Jackson asked, trying not to sound annoyed.
“Well, it doesn’t have one,” Clinton said. “Or rather, it has hundreds. We just don’t have one yet.” He sipped his tea again, and Jackson knew Clinton was going to stay quiet until someone asked him the question.
“Why is that and/or what does that mean?” Jackson asked, humouring him.
“Every species that arrives at the First Federation Core World is suggested to choose an official name -- in every language -- for the Core World. That way, it can be programmed into the translators and there’s no risk of unpronounceable garbage across species.” Clinton was clearly enjoying the strangeness of this. He perked up when he got excited. Even with his little idiosyncrasies and slightly stuck-up behaviour, it was… not an unpleasant sight. Jackson definitely got what Andromeda saw in him.
“That’s… kinda interesting, actually. So who picks the name?”
“That’s what the Admiralty is trying to decide right now. Of course, there’s the ridiculous idea of a humanity-wide open poll, which can only go well,” Clinton said, rolling his eyes. There was more chuckling around the table. “Maybe we’ll get a good Planet McPlanetface.”
“Earth Two,” someone else suggested.
“Dune!” There were a couple more chuckles.
“Corey,” another voice said. After a quiet pause, they continued. “Get it? Because it’s the Co--”
“We get it, Dave, sit down.”
“Anyway,” Clinton continued, “apparently it’s tradition for the ship that makes first contact to name the homeworld in the native language of its Captain, but it’s not really a hard and fast rule, so I don’t want to make any assumptions about what they’ll decide. I’m sure we’ll find out. Maybe the Captain will make a ship-wide inquiry.” That was met with soft ‘heck yeah’s and other noises of approval. “Regardless, for now it’s ‘The Core World.’” He sipped his tea again, seemingly done with his explanation.
“So what’s going to be the plan for this… shore leave?” Jackson asked. Clinton shrugged and shook his head.
“No idea. I think we’re going to find out when we get there. Maybe there’s going to be a tour guide. Could be fun.”
“Could be, yeah,” Jackson agreed.
“But first, there’s the documentary,” Clinton said with a pained smile, and the groans around the table resumed where they’d left off.
---
Jackson Manderley felt like his brain had turned into goop. He felt, for the first time since some of the worst lectures at the academy, exactly like a tub of ice cream left on the counter, slowly turning into sludge. The documentary was over, but that didn’t mean he’d fully recovered yet. He’d expected it to be two, maybe three hours long. Instead, it had been a seven hour long informational mini-series, with little chapters, pee breaks, and notes that had to be taken during, with a questionnaire at the end. While it hadn’t been explicitly stated, he had the sneaking suspicion that a bad score on the test would mean restricted movement once they hit planetside, so he’d forced himself to pay attention to the boney-dry voice that had narrated the whole thing.
Not that it had been hard, originally. The various species of the First Federation were fascinating, and there were a lot more than the four that they had originally met. The United Hexapod Nations were a collection of species that numbered in the hundreds, the Unity protected several smaller species that had uplifted themselves within their borders, and Rep, due to his complete lack of nutritional requirements, allowed refugee species to exist within his borders. Where they lived or what their worlds were like wasn’t public knowledge, but representatives from the Unity would occasionally be allowed access to make absolutely sure Rep hadn’t turned them into cloud-computing hardware. So far, Rep seemed to be a good, if protective, host.
So there was a lot of stuff to learn about various species. Center stage had been social conventions, especially ways to make sure not to offend, what orifices to speak at and what constituted a face for various different creatures. There was also a bit more information on the Big Four, the four entities that constituted the First Federation and the smaller nations that existed within them. There were species and nations outside of those, and they had been listed -- at length -- but it was clear who the movers and the shakers were.
The Khatunate was mostly closed off and a little isolationist, but the other nations knew how to placate the nation. The advantage of space travel, of course, was that scarcity stopped being a problem over time, and that territory was rarely disputed. There were some tensions closer to the Core World, but a balance of some sort seemed to have been reached that nobody seemed particularly keen on disturbing.
He sent a message to the others he’d be setting foot on the Core World with. Apparently, the plan was for the crew to be divided into small and medium groups, which would be linked up with First Federation representatives, who would guide them planetside. The more junior bridge crew would be lumped in together and would get Petri, and he felt a little guilty not having gotten to know them better. On the other hand, this would be the perfect opportunity to do just that.
Something he’d been meaning to ask them about -- or at least vaguely mention in their vicinity -- was something that had been touched on only briefly during the mandatory documentary-bingewatch. It had been mentioned briefly that there were members of the Unity that were considered ‘locked off’, and interaction with them had been discouraged until the people the video had been designed for had more experience with the Unity and their culture. Of course, that had only made Jackson more curious about them. Did some of them choose to exist outside of the species-wide connection they had? Or was it something more sinister? From the looks of things, most of Unity society was accepting of pretty much everything, excepting self-harm and breaking consent.
The other species had had their own quirks. The Hexapod seemed to be a short-lived, highly curious, highly excitable race, and the crew had been advised to keep interactions to a minimum, not out of any physical danger or risk of social faux-pas, but because an excited Hexapod could talk your ear off for hours about any subject that came to them. Considering the short, adorable creature he’d seen, Jackson didn’t exactly consider that a terrible risk, but if they only had two days, he did appreciate the warning.
Other than that, members of the Deep Khatunate tended not to interact with others very much, and if they did, it was with a reluctant resignation. Asking questions was a quick way to be asked politely to leave.
What Jackson was also interested in was the fact that it was possible they’d run into humans. Or, rather, Unity looking like humans. Since the discovery of humanity centuries ago, some Unity had taken up the hobby of creating what were essentially ‘human-personas’ that they would wear, and then meet up in places designed to look like human hangout-spots. To Jackson, that sounded absolutely and fantastically ridiculous, and he had to get a look at one.
Just then, he got a message back from Alex and Andy in the group chat. They were planning on meeting up in one of the meeting rooms that had been largely refurbished into something of a lounge, to talk about what they wanted to see down on the planet. Ideally, they’d be arriving tomorrow, and be down on the planet within hours after that. Usually, Proteus had explained on the bridge, there was a little bit more paperwork to get a ship this size down to the busy planet’s surface, but humanity’s arrival had been talked about for decades, it seemed. That was also, paradoxically, the reason there wouldn’t be a great party and meeting with leaders on their first landing. Most of the communication between Earth and the First Federation was already established, now, and the crew of the Sollipsis was no longer expected to play ambassador.
Good for the captain, Jackson thought. She deserved a bit of respite from all the diplomacy. He’d been able to tell she disliked the feigned formality and the forced smiles that had come after the first introductions, especially when talking to the cold Ambassador Dark.
Still, the Sollipsis, and its captain, would be presented on the Core World, she and her senior staff would be given a more official tour that would look good in a report, and then, after their (far too short) shore leave, the Sollipsis would be off to visit the homeworlds of various species, which was probably as much a concession to the Admiralty as it was an invitation to the crew directly.
Jackson Manderley stretched, his entire spine popped like bubble wrap, and his stiff back and shoulders protested loudly. If he had questions tomorrow, and someone recommended he rewatch the documentary in case he’d missed something, he was going to fly the Sollipsis into the sun.
I vote for the planet to be named Corey!great idea, Dave
The aliens have humansonas!!! x)
Teaboos mark two,,,,
Corey McPlanetface, best of both worlds(' names)
omg its reverse furries.