---Debriefing---

I alight on Deck 0, having come from the Bridge.

Originally, the plan was to keep the Bright Plume in orbit and take a shuttle down to the surface but, in light of the circumstances, the Zanzibaris have waived our docking fees and sent an approach course which Twila is following.

The ships, in tow, were taken off us in orbit; My understanding is that they will be investigated, to help build a case against the surviving pirates, and then either returned to their original owners, resold or scrapped.

We have been offered a finders fee for them, on top of the bounty.

I walk in the direction of the rear Loading Bay. My SOs ought to already be there.

The door slides open and, sure enough, there stand my security team, uniformed but unarmed.

I march up to Victor’s side and watch the rolling dunes pass [a kilometre] beneath us.

“Twila, out of curiosity, what is the external temperature at our current location?” I ask.

“The external, ground temperature is approximately 131°C right here, Captain, but only 39°C at our destination, according to local weather reports.” she relays, cheerily.

I turn to Victor “Isn’t that above Human body temperature? Why did Terrans settle a place where the temperature exceeds their body temperature?”

He laughs “As a child of the Isles, I’m inclined to agree with you, Cap(!) That’s a bit above our meltin’ point(!)… but some like it hot! The majority of settlers on this planet are people who trace to hot parts of Earth, mainly East Africa, but that ain’t exclusive. Anyone who likes the heat’d be welcome. 39°C is vergin’ toward the upper end of what Terrans consider ‘habitable’, temperaturewise, but ain’t so extreme that you got a problem… provided you stay hydrated. Evaporative coolin’, from sweat, keeps our internals cool enough to function… Anyone, who’s here, who can’t hack the heat’s got no choice but to use a personal climate control field. Nearly all the rescues are gonna need ‘em, for instance… You got yours, right?”

I gesture to it, alongside my other welfare devices, on the sash across my chest.

He gives an approving nod.

I ask “Victor, could you just remind me of everything we need to do on this planet?”

His eyes narrow in concentration and he raises a counting hand “We need to get the rescues conveyed to their relief shelter, ready to be interviewed, reparated and sent on their way home, we need to hand over the pirates (livin' and dead), we need to be debriefed ourselves, we need to take the mirklets to Mage’s old uni, we need to meet this contract o’ yours” his left hand raises to continue the count “we gotta get a full complement of analogue firearms, our plasma blades need a repair or replace from us usin’ ‘em to swordfight with… I think that’s everythin’?... Oh! Mage’s mum invited us for dinner! He already sent her your dietary requirements.”

I nod, appreciatively.

The minutes wear on and steadily we start seeing the heat-hardiest plants on the edge of the terraformed zone. Then we start entering farmland, seeing irrigation canals with boats plying them. The plant life becomes steadily greener. We start seeing signs of habitation.

The ship slows, as evidenced by the landscape whipping past less swiftly.

Finally we stop and the panorama swivels around us, revealing a crystal blue ocean.

We descend, as Twila announces “We have reached our destination: Bahari ya Kaskazini Military Barracks. Thank you for flying AirTwila(!)”

I roll my eyes.

Victor is looking down through the polymer of the boarding ramp, into the hangar. His face is disgusted as he says “Oh, hell no! The fuck they think they’re playin’ at!?”

I am about to ask what he’s talking about when they come into my view.

The ship touches down and the ramp starts to drop. He doesn’t wait for it to be all the way lowered before he starts furiously striding down it, flanked by Tuun and Brunhilda in neat formation. I follow as well though, slightly awkwardly, out of formation.

“You are not comin’ on this ship like that! Not until every one of ‘em is on that bus and on their way! What is wrong with you?! After what they’ve been through…!?” he shouts, ardently, at the dozen or so soldiers wearing sleek, black, full body armour and carrying high powered, Terran military issue, guns.

In that armour, with those guns, those Terrans are some of the most dangerous beings in existence yet, in the face of Victor’s anger, they hesitate like fledgelings receiving a telling off from their teacher! Perhaps the GU should have tried stern-talking-tos as their mainstay of battle, during the War…(!) Nothing they did try made Terran soldiers falter like this!

“But…? The prisoners…?” says the one at the front, his voice slightly distorted by being passed through his helmet speakers.

“Can wait! You can get your guns and your armour for them! I don’t give a damn if you traumatise those pieces of shit! You are not takin’ one step further in the direction of the rescues wearin’ that armour and totin’ those guns! Not unless you shoot me and step over me! Fuck! You look like monsters! You’re gonna give me nightmares!”

The tallest, slenderest armoured figure gives a sigh through their helmet speaker, their shoulders moving in conjunction “He’s right, lock up your guns, take off your armour… reconvene in 5!”

Hesitating only a moment longer, the dozen Terrans file off, presumably in the direction of the changing room and gun locker.

The slender one twists their helmet sideways, cracking the seal, before lifting it above… his(?)… her head.

She has the, deep violet, eyes that indicate she is a member of the Tshwane lineage of Humans… also evidenced by her height, slenderness, curly, dark hair and broad facial features.

If I recall, Tshwane evolved in the arid climate of the southern end of Humanity’s cradlecontinent, Africa, and so, their physiology is even better at shedding heat than the main, Homo sapiens, lineage of Humanity.

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She says “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Taylor, and thank you.”

Victor’s face takes on a perplexed expression “What you thankin’ me for?”

She presses the release catch on her chest piece and her upper armour falls away, revealing a fully clothed upper half and making a reverberating *Thoom* as it hits the floor.

“You vindicated me! I told my superior the same thing but he said that, if you didn’t bring it up, we were to go in armed and armoured… didn’t want to lose the minutes it would take us to come off the ship, change, arm and reboard for the pirates... He seemed to think the possibility, of causing a stampede of terrified trauma victims, a non-issue!”

Victor cocks an eyebrow “Should you be talkin’ like that about a superior officer Ms…?”

“Lt. Loper and… I won’t tell if you won’t(!)” she winks while releasing her lower armour portion to make another, unnervingly loud *Thoom*.

She picks up a crate and strides up the ramp to where Victor stands.

She places the crate beside her feet and straightens up. She’s taller enough than even him that the angle of the ramp makes their eyes level.

She extends her hand.

Victor takes a moment to size her up, before extending his own for a hearty handshake.

“You’re a good woman, Lieutenant! I like you!” he says with sincere appreciation.

She fans her hand in her face, feigning flusteredness “I don’t think I’ve ever heard my rank pronounced like that(!) ‘Leff-tenant’?”

Victor smirks “It’s the correct pronunciation…”

She smirks back “You Brits(!) Can’t do anything normally(!)”

“I think you’ll find that it’s everyone else who ain’t doin’ things normally(!)” he mocks.

“Well… if you like me that much… I’m off duty after this… perhaps I could give you a tour? We could get dinner?”

Tuun stiffens and moves very slightly closer to Victor.

Victor smiles and looks down before saying “That’s a very flatterin’ offer, Lieutenant, but…” he grasps Tuun’s lower left hand “…I’m very happily spoken for.”

Tuun’s relief is visible, even to me!

Loper gives an exaggerated pout and says “Shame, the pretty ones are always taken!... and…” she looks briefly up and down Tuun, who is a near identical height and build to her “…it seems from the looks of… Ms. Tuun (I assume?)… I would have been as much your type as you are mine… Kudos on the catch, Ms. Tuun!” that latter directed at a satisfied looking Tuun.

Victor does not comment on that, instead he gestures to me “This is Captain Tcakqaal, Head of the Bright Plume, 27th Daughter of Highspire Peak.”

Loper seems, at this point, to realise I am here and is instantly a model of military professionalism. She straightens her back and salutes “Ma’am!”

I dip my head and slightly extend my wings, in my people’s equivalent gesture.

“I thank you kindly for Zanzibar Mpya’s gracious accommodation of this ship.” I say, formally.

“Certainly, Ma’am!... The crate…” she gestures to it “…contains personal welfare devices for the rescues, will you be wanting to scan it?”

I glance at Victor who gives the subtlest of nods.

“I think so, yes… Twila, could you tell me the contents of this crate?”

“Absolutely, Captain.” sings Twila.

Loper raises an eyebrow “Twila?”

[Fuck]!

Victor doesn’t miss a beat “An idiosyncrasy of the ship’s crew… we named our Computer… good for morale!”

“Uh-huh…” responds Loper, in a tone that makes it very clear she doesn’t believe him for a moment.

We’re very fortunate that the most perceptive species is also the one most opposed to the law we’re breaking!

A moment passes before Twila relays “The crate contains: approx. 1200 personal welfare field generating devices, of sundry kinds, approx. 200 tamperproof perspex cases and five rolls of fabric ribbon, presumed to be for the purpose of attaching the former to species who eschew clothing. Nothing dangerous is detected among its contents.” doing an unconvincing job of pretending to have the same flat, monotone she used to.

I do some mental sums before working out that that crate is heavy enough to flatten me if it were dropped on my head… Loper lifted it as if it weighed nothing!

She looks up, examining the ship “Out of curiosity, where was the board point? I didn’t see any damage on your ship as it came in…”

Victor gestures down “We’re more or less standin’ on it.”

Her eyes widen as she looks down at the, thoroughly unblemished, clear boarding ramp.

“Damn! You have a good maintenance team!”

I smile “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

The Terran soldiers, presumably the same ones as before, file back into the room, unarmed and dressed in, much less alarming, fabric uniforms.

“Alright, you lot…” shouts Loper, to her subordinates “…we’ve got 173 trauma victims, 10 prisoners and 13 cadavers to get deboarded and processed, nobody's leaving till it’s done so we’d best hop to it!” then she turns to me “Will you be staying? Your Security Personnel and deputies are needed here but, if you like, you could begin your debrief now?”

I think for a moment before responding “I’ll stay, it’s not as if getting debriefed then waiting will be any quicker than waiting then getting debriefed.”

Loper smiles and nods.

It takes around [an hour] to get all the rescues provisioned correctly, for their safety, and conveyed to the enormous passenger transport that is parked in the hangar doorway.

I chat to Loper, between her barking commands at her subordinates. My impression of her, over that [hour], is as favourable as the one Victor expressed after [20 seconds].

Following that, we are joined by every Triple M, bar Hasiakh who’s waiting in the Brig, and Victor asks Twila to issue a strong ‘Stay in place, do not enter the common areas’ advisory to all crew, the Terran soldiers rearm and rearmour before reboarding and allowing the SOs to guide them to the Brig, on the far end of Deck 0.

They really do look like terrifying monsters in that armour. That visage was the [bogeyman] of the galaxy, during the War! I don’t envy the prisoners at all!

Hasiakh is attending the Brig and rises to greet us. She has a brief exchange with the soldiers before she glides up to the first cell and speaks in an authoritative voice, that rivals even Victor’s!

“Prisoners Bryce Jermain and Hugo Pine, you are being transferred from the custody of the Bright Plume, where you have been held under citizen’s arrest, to the custody of UTC military authorities on Zanzibar Mpya. If you have any concerns for your safety, or pertinent objections on other grounds, voice them now…”

The prisoners scowl but say nothing.

“Two sets of restraints will appear from the walls, place your wrists against the cuffs. If you do not comply, you will be tranquilised.”

They comply, still scowling, and are then removed from the cell. The process is repeated for the next four cells. Then all of the pirates are conveyed from the ship to a prisoner transport that has taken the place of the passenger transport, since it departed.

The cadavers are then deboarded to a medical transport and Victor lifts the advisory.

“Now…” says Loper “…It’s time to debrief. If you’ll all follow me to the interview rooms, we can begin.”

She conveys us to a waiting room where we are greeted by a team of, presumably, military interviewers.

Loper assigns each Triple M to an interviewer and then turns to me “I’ll be conducting your debrief, Captain.” she smiles.

I’m slightly surprised that she was among those qualified to conduct interviews but follow her to the room she indicates.

“Are you sure you don’t want to seize the opportunity to seclude yourself with my CSS, given the way you flirted with him earlier?” I quip, as the door closes.

She smiles “It would be a flagrant abuse of my power to use my assignment to monopolise that boycandy(!)… Besides… there’s no use torturing myself! From the way he refused, it was very clear that his answer wouldn’t change, no matter how long I had to convince him!”

I chitter at that.

“Now, I’m going to be nice enough to warn you that I’ll be looking for holes and inconsistencies in your account… it’s nothing personal… we just can’t have their defence teams seizing on some tiny discrepancy and using it to get the whole case thrown out. I’m going to be quite hard on you… for which I apologise in advance… is that understood, Captain?”

I’m suddenly anxious but nod my head.

---one extremely intense debrief later---

“…aaaand, we’re done.” Loper says, cheerfully, deactivating the camera drone.

“How did you make me feel like the criminal here!? [Fuck]!” I say, slumping against the seatback.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but… your story does beggar belief!” she laughs “Your testimony along with your crew’s and the rescues will be transferred to an AI who’ll collate the details and search for discrepancies. Once that’s done, the bounty and finder’s fees will be transferred and you and your ship will be free to leave port… but I just want to stress, you aren’t prisoners! You can leave the base, we just might need to call you back for clarification. It should take a few days to get accounts from all of the rescues… but you don’t need to leave the moment it’s done. I understand that you have errands to run while you’re here. You can stay as long as you like, within reason. We’re very grateful, for the cleanup of our space, that you’ve performed and we regret that it was necessary… that being done…” she opens the door and gestures for me to leave “…enjoy New Zanzibar, Captain!”