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Cries of the Disillusioned
Book 1: Act 2: Chapter 3: Part IV

Book 1: Act 2: Chapter 3: Part IV

Andreas had already figured that this so-called recreational sector would probably be more impressive than the sparse options available on most human ships but was still taken aback when he witnessed it.

He stood in the middle of the plaza in a casual pose, both hands resting inside the pockets of the new suit they’d custom tailored for him earlier the same morning, his mouth agape.

The sector imitated a small town in some regards, flaunting every extravagance expected from one, including restaurants, theaters, libraries, stores, and even a small stadium as the focal point.

Astonishingly, the whole zone boasted a simulated day-night cycle with a convincing skybox mimicking a planetary surface. While some human vessels had comparable features, none matched this magnitude or realism. It even reproduced the gentle outdoor breeze one would anticipate in such a setting, despite no visible fans. The air smelled pleasant too, unlike the stale, recycled atmosphere on the rest of the ship.

The architecture varied in familiarity. Some structures followed typical construction norms, using wood or concrete, while others incorporated exotic curves and materials uncommon in human designs. The spaceship's interior limited most buildings to only a few stories in height.

“Pretty snazzy, huh?” Agozi asked, standing close by with Kaz.

Andreas ceased his slack-jawed staring and shifted his gaze to her.

“Remarkable indeed,” he replied, displaying an insincere smirk. “How do you manage these gentle breezes?” he asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Just a bit of magic,” a hint of jest in her reply.

Andreas offered a momentary smirk, but swiftly restated his inquiry. “Jokes aside, I'm genuinely intrigued. How does it work?”

“Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure,” Agozi replied. “Some complex terraforming tech plus a little extra wizardry.”

“And this kind of setup is standard?”

“It's important to note that the Minboa is a top-tier craft,” Kaz said. “Granted, the Union does prioritize crew well-being across the board, but our amenities are unquestionably a cut above the rest.”

Andreas performed a relaxed gesture of affirmation.

“Does this place draw inspiration from your home?” he asked, taking another quick peek at the ornate architecture.

“What you see here is a fusion of indigenous motifs drawn from multiple societies,” Kaz replied. “Since our crew represents a rich tapestry of races, incorporating these relatable aspects helps create a more welcoming and inclusive atmosphere.”

Andreas perceived an opportunity to gather information that might come in handy.

“On that note, what's the headcount?”

“The Minboa's maximum crew capacity hovers around the twenty-thousand mark, although this figure is subject to variation depending on the racial makeup and operational requirements,” Kaz replied. “Typically, its twelve to fifteen thousand, but the scale of our current undertaking is more ambitious, resulting in a current workforce of roughly seventeen thousand.”

“And the security detail?”

“What of it?”

“I'd wager providing protection to such a vast crew is no small feat,” Andreas replied, feigning simple curiosity and innocence while actually assessing the magnitude of his opposition. “Those armed security we ran into before, what's the total count on those?”

The query appeared to take Kaz slightly by surprise, causing a change in his stance.

“We have a sufficient number,” he replied, after a momentary delay.

“No need to fret over your well-being,” Agozi said reassuringly. “Our security's more of a precaution than a necessity; we only really need 'em when we're setting foot on unknown terrain, and even that's not a hard and fast rule.”

“Lieutenant Agozi's assessment is accurate,” Kaz said. “The matter of our security measures is not one that need occupy your thoughts.”

Andreas displayed an insincere smirk, his focus bouncing between the two extraterrestrials a few times before he responded.

“Well, that certainly sets my mind at ease,” he said, his inflection outwardly genial but also conveying a measure of artificiality. “Nevertheless, I hope you'll indulge me regardless.”

The Mevik duo swapped a transient, dubious glance, their eyes betraying both suspicion about his aims and a modicum of uneasiness.

“Within the ballpark of several dozen,” Kaz replied eventually.

“Only a few dozen, you say?”

Kaz's bearing altered yet again, and Agozi similarly seemed to dislike Andreas's probing, though he could only conjecture how much they were inferring about his actual purposes for inquiring.

“Might I ask what prompts this line of questioning?” Kaz asked, his inflection wary yet not completely incriminating.

Recognizing he had pried too far, Andreas chose to retreat. He had gleaned the most crucial piece of intel anyway and saw no need to appear even more suspect than he likely already did.

“Mere idle inquisitiveness, nothing more,” he replied. “Let's not dwell on it. I'm far more intrigued by the prospect of exploring this fascinating locale.” His belly emitted a famished growl, causing Andreas to glance at it briefly. “On that note, I don't suppose there's a place a guy could score some grub around here, is there?”

*****

Andreas couldn't resist feeling a tad smug about the confused looks his cafeteria appearance had drawn. Perhaps unsurprising, given his towering height compared to the others. His alien status likely played a lesser role; everyone present was an alien.

No particular rationale had driven him to opt for this precise restaurant. Truth be told, he lacked any knowledge of their menu or whether it would even be digestible for him. It was simply an arbitrary pick, no better or worse than any other.

Andreas scrutinized the food service area.

The layout didn't differ greatly from the human equivalent, though interestingly, actual servers were personally serving the food in lieu of automated dispensers. Given the sophisticated technology he'd witnessed in other parts of the vessel, this detail seemed peculiar to him.

“No food dispensers?” Andreas asked Kaz, who was positioned close to him, accompanied by Agozi.

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“The technology exists, but the prevailing notion is that employing sentient beings to serve meals offers mental health advantages,” Kaz replied.

“Puts a little soul into it,” Agozi added.

Andreas responded with a small nod of recognition.

“So, what kind of grub are they serving up in this joint?”

“The fare offered at this specific dining facility consists primarily of serin and wheat-based steak preparations,” Kaz replied.

“They've got a little something to satisfy every kind of craving, no matter what planet you hail from,” Agozi added.

That sounded inviting, but Andreas's ignorance of alien dishes left him confused.

“Forgive my ignorance, but what exactly is 'serin'?”

Agozi's snout and whiskers danced happily, her face beaming at the mere question.

“Imagine the juiciest, most flavor-packed meat your taste buds have ever encountered,” Agozi replied. “That's serin and then some!”

“The entire menu here is first-rate,” Kaz said. “Snikers made certain of that with his costly investments, and although it's a rarity, this may be an instance where his extravagance has produced something of actual merit.”

They joined the serving queue.

The majority of other diners were either Mevik or Prol, as they were seemingly named. The Mevik paid him more attention, although a few Prol would still divert their gaze from their plates to glimpse at him as the trio passed by.

“Seems like I'm turning more than a few heads around here,” Andreas said, queuing alongside Kaz and Agozi, awaiting their turn to be served.

“Your appearance is a factor, but it's also worth considering that your species is entirely unfamiliar to them,” Kaz replied. “The introduction of new species to the Exploration Division is a relatively rare occurrence, so their attention is probably driven by simple curiosity.”

Following a brief wait, their turn to be served arrived.

Andreas gazed at the array of food trays, each filled with extraterrestrial dishes, some appearing recognizable while others seemed more foreign.

A Mevik server waited quietly across the counter, anticipating his order.

“Sorry, but I need you to order something,” it said eventually.

“My bad,” Andreas replied. “I'll have the serin meat, please, and a scoop of whatever that orange concoction is over there,” he said, motioning to something reminiscent of mashed sweet potatoes.

The attendant used tongs to grasp a few slices of serin, then employed a serving spoon to collect a portion of the soft, orange substance that Andreas fervently hoped would resemble the flavor of sweet mashed potatoes.

“Same selection”, Kaz stated when their turn arrived.

The trio settled at one of the tables.

Upon sitting, Andreas realized he lacked utensils. None of the surrounding diners seemed to have any either.

“I take it you guys prefer the hands-on approach to dining.”

“How else would we eat? With our toes?” Agozi replied, her mouth partially full after taking a substantial bite of her meat.

“Technically, there are certain xenobiological entities that utilize their lower appendages for food consum—”

“Forget I asked.” Andreas glanced at the white plastic plate which held his food. No sauce was present, though he hadn't requested any. He was also uncertain about the meat's seasoning, but it appeared cooked at a minimum. On the bright side, I can take comfort in the fact that this mystery meat has at least seen the inside of an oven.

“Does your plate offend you?” Agozi asked, noting Andreas's hesitation.

“Oh, no, I'm sure it's delightful!” Andreas picked up the alleged Serin meat and bit into it. While chewing, relief flooded through him. The flavor was not unpleasant, resembling spicy beef. “Not half bad,” he said post-swallowing.

“Of course it isn’t, that's prime Serin,” Agozi said before consuming another substantial morsel of her own serving.

Andreas now focused on the heap of orange pulp that also occupied his plate. If that meat didn't kill me, this orange stuff probably won't either, he mused. He scooped a bit with his fingers and placed it in his mouth.

Big mistake.

Andreas struggled to control his gag reflex but managed to swallow the substance through sheer willpower. Following a brief coughing fit, he glanced at them, unable to conceal his revulsion at what he had just consumed.

“Sweet mother of…” His features scrunched up in disgust and he barely managed to keep the stuff from spilling out. “What ungodly creation is this?!” he asked, gesturing with repugnance at the orange pile of crap on his dish.

“Mouldmash,” Kaz replied. “It's a blend of slimemold and crushed intestines. Not cheap, I might add. Seems you're quite the connoisseur.”

Barely capable of concealing his repulsion, a feeble grin spread across his face. He realized they disliked it, but they deserved it after poisoning him like that.

They continued eating, but Andreas chose to disregard the remaining goop of slimemash diarrhea.

After a few minutes, Andreas reasoned that the relaxed atmosphere offered a prime chance to gather more information about his captors. And he did view them as captors, regardless of their persistent proclamations of altruism.

“So, this grand 'Galactic Union' you keep mentioning…” Andreas said, feigning a laid-back attitude. “What's their endgame?”

“Put simply, the Galactic Union is a collaborative effort between various species to ensure universal well-being throughout the galaxy,” Kaz's reply was official and businesslike “Our team, part of the Exploration Division, functions within the Union's fleet to—”

“Spare me the PR spiel,” Andreas interrupted. “I'm not interested in your rehearsed pitch about the Union's supposed greatness. You've hammered that home already.”

“What's the core of your question, then?”

“Your real purpose,” Andreas replied. “Why this place? What's the ultimate goal?”

Kaz's lip curled slightly as his voice briefly took on an impatient edge.

“We've been transparent about this,” he replied. “Our mission is exploration, mapping uncharted space for the Union.”

“And then what?”

Likely reacting to Andreas's accusatory tone, Kaz hesitated, his fingers tracing the tabletop. Andreas wondered if this meant anger or frustration.

“Our next steps are determined by our findings.” While maintaining his formal tone, Kaz's speech slowed noticeably. “The majority of space is unremarkable, but when we encounter sectors with substantial value, be it resources or habitable worlds, they're usually flagged for prospective utilization or colonization.”

“And suppose these planets you're eyeing aren't empty; how does that factor into your plans?”

Kaz's whiskers and snout twitched slightly before he responded.

“I assume you're probing about the implications of the Union becoming aware of your race?”

“You've got the gist,” Andreas replied. “What's your plan for us?”

“We have no agenda,” Kaz replied. “The Union's philosophy is fundamentally non-interventionist. After official first contact, the next steps will be determined by your choices, not ours.”

“Look, we ain't here to force our way of life on you. That's not how we roll.” Agozi added.

Andreas doubted every statement they made. Why would they claim otherwise, after all?

“But let's say, for argument's sake, you weren't so benevolent,” he said. “What sort of leverage could you actually exert?”

The pointed question made Kaz hesitate once more. While Andreas couldn't precisely read their emotions, their discomfort was evident.

“The Galactic Union's laws are quite clear on this matter…” he replied eventually. “Its constitution explicitly forbids it from exerting undue influence on sovereign entities.”

“We're not about to start pushing anyone around,” Agozi seconded. “After we say 'hello,' it's all on your higher-ups to decide what comes next. We're just the messengers.”

Andreas paused to reflect on their words. Their rationale didn't seem implausible, but he'd heard human politicians spout similar rhetoric countless times before starting wars.

“My, my, such noble intentions,” he said, taking another mouthful of meat. He looked up from his food to the two of them. “Tell me, does your hyper-advanced civilization by any chance have some H2O laying around?”

Kaz gestured to a water fountain nearby, and he came back with a plastic cup filled with water.

“But let's be real, the universe is hardly a small pond,” Andreas said. “What's your approach when you encounter folks who are...reluctant.”

“We've been at this for ages, literally,” Kaz had nearly finished his plate. “We've integrated most of the known cosmos, though a handful of reluctant parties persist.”

Andreas grew alarmed at the phrasing.

“…reluctant, is that so?”

“Let's just say they have their reservations about membership.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Some folks cling to old ways of thinking,” Agozi said, popping the last morsel of steak into her mouth. “Doesn't mean they're right, but there you have it.”

“But barring those instances?”

“A coalition of our size isn't immune to friction, but we've developed methods to address it,” Kaz replied.

“And do these 'methods' ever leave any stains, perchance?”

Kaz's evasive, bureaucratic responses deepened Andreas's mistrust and eroded his patience.

“…I must reiterate, there are stringent protocols in place preventing the Union from exploiting its position to—”

“Cut the diplomatic bullcrap!” Andreas's tolerance for Kaz's evasive answers had finally ran out. “I'm asking if disputes ever end in fatalities. I'm talking about real violence, about people dying. Do your so-called 'disagreements' ever fill the morgues?”

An abrupt, cold hush fell over the room, paralyzing Andreas's surroundings. Kaz, Agozi, and those close enough to hear him stopped eating and stared, their faces etched with shock and disbelief in the frigid silence.