CHAPTER 5 - OUTPOST

It wasn't long at all until the ship entered warp again. In fact, Rachel was still taking her mid-day nap, and continued napping throughout. So did Kuw and Artur. Jamaad, too, rested in his quarters. Warp madness did not affect those who slept, only manifesting as bizarre and vivid dreams.

Elektra was in the CIC, alongside Patch. The hallucinations did not distract her as much as they did during the first warp, as was usual for FTL travel. She was taking the time to familiarize herself with all the various systems, poking through the interface of each console. Often, she asked the onboard pseudosapient AI for guidance.

"What is the common procedure for verifying the integrity of the Ugolnikov field?"

The AI responded with an extremely detailed, overly formal, and long-winded explanation that, for the most part, went over Elektra's head. She held on for a minute, then ordered it to stop. The voices certainly weren't helping.

"Christ, this thing is stupid. And people used to think this paradigm could produce sapience… Patch, can you help me?"

"Yes, I can. Note, however, that PSAI models present on starships tend to be trained and fine-tuned to be helpful to people who already know the details of the ship's operation. The one in your datapad might be more helpful for transcribing the procedure into plain English," the fractal robot intoned.

"I don't trust that thing with delicate stuff like this. It's good for trivia and recipes. Not this."

"Acknowledged."

Patch beckoned Elektra over to the engineering console and showed her the necessary steps for navigating the UI and setting up checks as the two floated nearby. The field integrity was nominal.

"I know this is your job, but Jamaad said it is best if I learn all this myself as FO."

"Good idea. My titanium-alloy superstructure might be orders of magnitude stronger than meat, but I am not indestructible," Patch stated.

"I really enjoy the humble bragging," Elektra said, and rolled her eyes.

"Thank you, I will do it more henceforth."

Elektra facepalmed.

***

Rachel was in an endless, dim hallway, flanked by rows of doors. The floor was a conveyor belt that kept moving her forward. She would often grab at a door to open it, catching a glimpse of a peaceful garden or a bustling city, only to be unable to step in before the belt carried her away. With every door the catgirl opened, the conveyor belt got faster and faster. This went on for what felt like hours.

The belt was now moving at around a hundred kilometers per hour. Rachel could not grab the handles safely anymore.

The hall had an end. At the end was a rock crusher. Its spiked drums gnashed and whirred.

"What the– Rachel, is everything okay?!" Artur's voice blared somewhere from the darkness below her.

"...yes?" The comms officer swiped a hand across her forehead. Cold sweat covered it.

"You screamed like you got stabbed or some shit."

"It was a bad dream… no voices now?"

"Yeah, we're out of warp now. I think the grav woke you up though the intercom didn't. Dunno if you can see the star from here."

Rachel's vision doubled up, then reconstituted as she looked at the viewscreen. The ship was apparently just finishing its rotation, causing Frontier's End to come into view. It was a small red dwarf, appearing as an orange-hued, reddish glow from which solar flares arced. The glow of many other ships' torch drives was visible from here as many little dots that seemed to concentrate around a spot somewhere straight ahead. Nothing seemed unusual about this system at a glance, but everyone knew that this was it for Federation space. Frontier's End had no planetary colonies, as it was an old star with a metal-poor system, thus its only planets were gas giants, and it was too far away from the core to be a profitable helium-3 scooping spot. Instead, its position was strategic. It bordered, all at once: the Koumanlan, a relmai protectorate over humans, populated by both species, born out of the Human Civil War some fifty years ago; the Chohjozra Nrukhrizchaa, an Alliance member civilization which was a theocracy of octopodal reptiles; and the Hq'ow-Tsuzz-Ba!ae Commonality, an Alliance observer and a discordant, chaotic civilization of three concurrently-evolved species. Beyond the Nrukhrizchaa was the secretive Kjee Empire, an absolute monarchy of tripodal fluffy crustaceans who thrived on subterfuge, partly aligned with the Hegemony.

"Why's she just sitting there?" Kuw said, poking her head into the quarters.

"Oh, sorry! Was just reminiscing."

***

Several hours passed. The starbase, FE-01, became apparent. It resembled the one around Flamerider, but much larger. It had a massive, thick central pillar, surrounded by a slowly-rotating ring, thick and broad. There were many lights, antennas, and other such outgrowths all over its surface, and the ring itself was jagged and uneven. Many ships, of a great many designs and classes, were docked to both ends of the central pillar, while many more circled around it. Cargo barges, starliners, private smallcraft, police, and military, all mingled in this vortex of plasma and metal. Their drives, even at very low throttle, shone brighter than the star did from there. One of the ends of the pillar seemed to be a shipyard, with several robotic arms assisting engineers as they maintained, repaired, and modified various vessels.

"Second Officer Kuw, hail them. As a reminder, we should attach our newly-acquired equipment, give away the cargo so that it might find its rightful owner, and enlarge our radiators. You know what to say," Jamaad's voice sounded rather drowsy.

The relmai nodded and opened the video feed. "This is Comms Officer Kuwkuobue Liukwelbea-bu of the TFSMV Pheidippides of the Terran StarNavy speaking! We request shipyard docking rights. We are on an important mission," her fingers, four per hand, danced on the keyboard, sending the necessary credentials to the starbase, "so we need prio if possible."

A human woman of Asian heritage was on the other end of the feed, a visor replacing her eyes and antennas poking out from behind her ears. "This is Space Traffic Controller Yon Jung-Won of Starbase FE-01 speaking. All of our high-priority docks are full, but a slot will be available in thirty minutes."

"Acknowledged!"

"Acknowledged."

The feed winked out. Jamaad yawned. "I found it hard to sleep, so I do not think I can be in direct command for much longer. Kuw, you're in command now."

Right as he stood up from his seat, the door opened and Rachel walked in alongside Artur, their gaits very jumpy in the low gravity. The two saluted the captain as he walked past them, and so did Kuw.

"I heard everything you talked about with the STC," the catgirl said as she sat down beside Kuw. "How busy are these guys if they don't have room for us?"

"The world doeeeesn't revolve around us," Kuw gestured wildly. "Could be important deliveries. VIPs. And stuff like that! Alsoooo, do we even need sensors with your big cat ears?" she giggled.

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Rachel smiled and performed some check-ups on the computer. "Are you going to negotiate stuff yourself? I mean, do you know everything that needs to happen to the ship?"

"Jamaad left some nooootes. Actually all the notes. I got this," Kuw said.

"Won't this be a big time sink, also?"

Artur chimed in. "We nearly got blasted out of the void. It's worth spending a day or two on some quick upgrades. This'll be faster than going back to our base, look how big the yard here is. And fewer questions."

"Huh. Well that makes sense."

Thirty minutes of circling the starport followed. Then, the ship started its docking approach after an okay by the traffic controller. Kuw did not even attempt to pilot it herself. A few words given to Patch, who was silently perched at the engineering console, did the trick. Kuw made an announcement about the cessation of acceleration within five minutes. The main drive then cut off, and small maneuvering thrusters were engaged, turning the vessel ninety degrees and aligning its docking port with the station's. These maneuvers were performed very precisely and with a cold mechanical quality to them.

Clang!

"Alright!" Kuw said, "I don't think anyone except me needs to do anything onboard. I can handle the negotiations from here."

The relmai coughed and started speaking into her datapad, nearly losing it and catching it before it floated away. "This is Acting Captain Kuwkuobue Liukwelbea-bu speaking! Non-essential personnel are dismissed until further notice, and allowed to board FE-01. It is good for mental health to spend time in a different environment."

***

After passing a quick customs check, Rachel floated down the hallway alongside Artur, Patch, and half a dozen lower-ranking crewmembers, in variously-colored uniforms. One end of it led deeper into the docks, and towards various rooms reserved for station staff, while the other led towards the civilian area. The hall looked much less spartan than the ones on the ship, with lots of screens on the walls. Some screens were information screens, where various schedules, announcements, and notices blinked and shifted in a cascade of numbers and letters. Others were pseudo-window viewscreens, but with a twist: the star and planets were enlarged for aesthetic reasons, like in an astronomy textbook. Between the screens were interspersed various flags. A white azimuthal map of Earth on a blue background; a garish square with many colorful sections and a four-leafed flower; and an odd combination of the aforementioned flags, with a white flower on a blue background. There were many other flags, each stranger than the last. Other than that, the decor in the hallway seemed to accommodate as many species' aesthetic preferences as was possible with limited space and resources.

The inhabitants of the station seemed to fall into two groups. The first were uniformed staff, mostly humans, genemods, and relmai, who often pulled crates behind themselves or carried tools. The second were dressed in markedly more casual clothes: shirts and pants, bodygloves and goggles, robes and wrappings, and more. They were of very diverse species, many of them not humanoid. Tentacles, eyestalks, and pincers were almost more common than arms and legs. This second category were mostly the crews and passengers of the docked vessels.

The group floated until they reached the elevator leading 'down' from the central pillar and into the rotating ring. The cabin was cylindrical and spacious, and everyone felt the gravity come back as they held onto special handles. It descended smoothly and silently.

"I was never to this place before, actually," Rachel said. "Last time I was on a mission that went this direction, we passed it by. Now I'm glad we didn't this time."

The doors of the elevator opened, and the group walked into the 'Civilian Area', as a bold-lettered sign informed them. Here, the corridor was even wider, though less tall, and even more people filled it. The lighting was warm, and there were more decorations here than in the pillar, from extravagant benches to painted-on murals depicting beautiful planetside views. It was almost reminiscent of a planetary settlement. After all, a station did not have stringent limits on mass, compared to a starship. According to Artur's internal sensors, the gravity here was equivalent to 0.3g.

"Why's this so… comfy? This is literally the furthest place from Earth in the Fed," Rachel rested on a bench for a moment. "The New Arizona starport is shoddy in comparison."

Radd Grant sat next to her. "Well, they gotta look good to all the aliens. And the only other okayish rest stops in this sector are out of the way, or actually around planets."

A rather scrawny dark-tan-skinned man walked past. "That, and when your home is light years away from anywhere else worth a damn, you want it to look good!" he said, turning around. The civilian had soft facial features, short but fluffy, oily black hair and a pencil mustache. His clothing was quite striking, with an off-pink, black-accented vest contrasting with dark green jeans and a thin, shiny choker. He was taller than Rachel and Grant, but not as tall as Artur.

Rachel furrowed her eyebrows. "Your home? I thought this was just a big port."

"Yeah, was. Long ago we got a license to allow civilian hab. First the families of some dockworkers moved in, then just former planetsiders wanting to try the habitat life and meet a ton of new people each day. You know what those protrusions on the ring are, and why it's so rough? There's a new layer under construction."

This was when the catgirl realized that this unassuming station, not touted as a habitat, was almost like a little city unto itself… or a separate micro-country altogether. "Huh. So how's life here? I suppose the food isn't too good… and what is your name, sir? I'm Rachel Beka."

"Joaquin Montes," the man said as he sat down. "And you are wrong. It's all hydro, of course, but there's such a variety! The alien travelers often bring biosynth templates for Terran-adapted versions of their plants and synthmeat. You get more of a choice here than any frontier town. As for life, well it's a very small world, but it's very comfy. Most of my friends live in FE, others I keep in touch with by mail."

"Huh. We don't intend to stay as we're…" She looked at Artur, Grant, and the rest. The wolf-man made a brief 'shush' gesture. "...Not from here. We have two days while our ship gets some needed maintenance. So can you show us around? I'm a bit hungry."

"Sure! Won't take long. I know of a good cafe this way," Joaquin said as he stood up and led the way forwards through the crowded hall.

"The floor curves," Artur said as he followed behind him. "Feels like I'm drunk as shit."

"You'll get used to it. Also how if you keep walking forwards, you'll arrive at the same place after a few minutes."

"I'm too dumb for this."

"Sir, I thought you had a BCI," Grant said.

"Doesn't really make me smarter. Doing math problems in seconds doesn't make you smart. You get?" Artur said.

"Yeah, makes sense I suppose."

Joaquin pointed to every sign along the way. Many were tourist attractions, such as the Spacers' Museum, or the Holo-Garden, but those quickly made way for various small businesses. Shops, feelie theaters, and assorted services lined both sides of the hall for a brief stretch, their colorful screen-signs flashing and shifting in color, often in multiple alien languages.

The group reached an establishment unimaginatively named 'Frontier's Eatery'. After a brief discussion, it was established that only Rachel and Grant wanted to eat at this time. Artur preferred much heavier food compared to the Eatery's menu of mostly snacks, while the other lower-ranking crew already got their fill on the ship. They went their own way, while the three entered through a transparent sliding door framed by orange lights.

The inside of the cafe was certainly unusual for a space establishment. The walls were paneled with planks of some rich, dark wood with nails. Joaquin explained that this 'wood' was actually made of a special kind of algae, pressed, dried, and painted, while the nails were formed out of leftover construction scrap. The furniture was ornate, and the room was lit by a lamp that resembled a stylized, geometric chandelier. It was small, nearly claustrophobic. Almost all of the tables were filled at this time of the day, and the patrons were as diverse as the pedestrians outside.

Rachel ordered three synth-tuna sandwiches, some fries, and milk. Grant, meanwhile, bought some fried dumplings and a soda, while Joaquin got himself some adapted alien dish with a very difficult name. The black human woman behind the counter delivered the plates herself.

Two relmai, clearly friends or more, sat at a table. One was magenta, and the other was white. They wore, respectively, a multicolored jumpsuit and a garish robe. Across the table from them was a tiny, yellow lizardlike genemod. The former two had copious amounts of jewelry not seen on Kuw or Wouwbiikza.

"–and then the whole bhaking thing tilted on the tree and Nheka slid into the gash, Kayten ran back down to see what happened to her. He nearly fell in himself, stumbled into the hole, and I had to heeeroically–" The magenta relmai said to the reptilian, gesturing with a fluffy hand after adjusting his reflective visor-like sunglasses. Even on his seat, the man towered over the lizard.

"No he didn't, ya didn't, and also ya stood in the line and worried where your precious shades went," his white-furred companion said.

"Weeeell I just forgot, ya see? Sorryyy!"

Joaquin was about to sit down for his food, but turned around and waved to them "Hello Lai! Been a small while. I see you're telling that story to yet another guy?" He chuckled. "What exciting new additions to your tall tale did you make this time?"

The magenta relmai sighed and beckoned him closer. They exchanged some brief sentences in Liamuju– the language that was to relmai what English was to humans– with Joaquin clearly mangling half of the words. Joaquin then returned to the table.

"What did you talk about?" Rachel tilted her head.

"Not saying!"

"Sorry. You see, on my ship I man the sensors. It's kind of my nature to snoop around," she giggled.

Meanwhile, in the Pheidippides' CIC…