It Takes Time <To Be Properly Taken Apart> - Interlude 02
Interlude 02
Chapter Length: 3,500~ wordsThe Longbough
Gemirina Aceylia, Seventh Bloom, made her way down what had once been a street in one of the Longbough's major hab rings. Where the ground had once been even down to an atomic level, her vines now found purchase in cracks and crevasses that ran the length of the pavement. She was occasionally forced to move out of the way in order to pass by a chunk of debris that had blocked the path, or to form a bridge with her vines to move over one of the many pits and chasms that had been opened in the ground. Everywhere she looked, affini had abandoned their Terran forms and reverted to their natural appearances, holding tools in their vines as they worked to repair the damage inflicted upon the ship. Some hung from rooftops or suspended themselves from ceilings in order to work, while others stretched their bodies out and simply did what they needed to from ground level. Others coordinated to throw chunks of broken buildings into the remote decompilers that had been brought in from the garden station the ship was currently docked at, and a smaller number clustered around pieces of heavy machinery that were being used to demolish buildings that had been deemed too damaged to repair. "Captain!" The voice of her second-in-command cut through Gemirina's thoughts. She returned to awareness to see a bright pink affini, one of the few still in their humanoid form, hastily making their way up to her; shedding cherry blossoms all over the ground as she went. "There you are! Sorry, I looked for you at the plaza, but I couldn't find you-" "It's fine, Leillanduna," Gemirina cut her off with a wave of the hand. "I took the scenic route. I wanted to check on the situation in horticulture on the way; make sure there still weren't any phytotoxin leaks." Seeing the expectant look in her subordinate's face, she clarified: "There haven't been. It turned out to be a false alarm: apparently one of the thorns tore through the entire compartment-" Her eyes narrowed, and her voice somehow grew even less amused, "-but grew around every single phytotoxin container, without breaching even one of them." The weapon that had struck the Longbough was absolutely ridiculous. It had torn through virtually the entire ship and reduced whole hab rings to ruins, but had avoided any locations where a sophont was present and also spared all infrastructure required to keep the crew alive and healthy. The ship itself had been shredded, but not one affini or xenosophont had sustained so much as a scratch. The level of control required to achieve such a thing was unimaginable, even to her. What bothered her the most, however, was the implication that their opponent had been holding back. Raqi Marr could very easily have killed every person upon the Longbough, but had instead gone out of her way to defeat them in such a way that no one on the ship would be hurt in any capacity. Gemirina was no novice to ship-to-ship combat; she knew just how much harder it was to win a battle without killing anyone. It was a problem the affini had been dealing with since they first started domesticating other species, and by the present day they had come as close as possible to perfecting the art. For an Affini vessel to be beaten that way, though? The thought made her phytotoxin boil. That girl stole one piece of affini technology, and now she thinks she can treat the Compact like a joke. Her hypnotic centres flared with red light. I swear by the Everbloom: When I get my vines on her, I'm going to break her so thoroughly that the clerks will have to pen a new definition for what it means to be domesticated. "Whew!" Leillanduna let out a sigh of relief, once again pulling Gemirina out of her thoughts. "That's really good news, then!" Gemirina let out a grumble. "Yes, it is." She tried not to let her irritation into her tone. "How go the repairs here?" "Oh, they're going great! Now that things have calmed down a little bit, loads and loads of affini have started taking part in the process. It feels like everyone's getting into it lately!" For some reason that the captain could not conceive of, her subordinate was beaming at her. "Some florets have even started taking part! There's been a competition on how to redesign the gardens on ring three, and we've had a bunch of suggestions from the cuties on new buildings to replace the old ones. Ooh, ooh; there's also been a proposal to preserve the wreckage around the main OTNA building, and turn the whole thing into a walk-in museum. People are saying it ought to be left that way on account of historical significance, what with it being one of the first sites of severe damage to affini architecture in this galaxy!" A single leaf fell from Gemirina's back. She had absolutely no idea how Leillanduna could be so cavalier about this, or why so many of the affini on the ship seemed to be taking the Longbough's disabling as a cause for celebration; rather than the humiliation that it was. "People are also saying that we should build all the replacement buildings onto the remains of the old ones," Leillanduna continued, voice growing even more enthusiastic, "because they think there's potential for some really neat designs based off of preserving damaged parts and fusing them with new creations-" "Yes, yes, very good," Gemirina cut her off. "What about xenosophont trauma cases? Has there been anyone identified to have any lasting psychological harm yet?" "Still nope! A lot of the florets were pretty frightened on the day of the battle, but since no one's habs actually got hit, most of them didn't actually see anything that happened, it turns out! For the few that did, most of the upset was easily fixed with some class-B's and maybe a few class-H's." The pink affini's vines were swaying in rhythm from side to side as she spoke. "Actually, a lot of our rinans have started using the thorns as climbing frames. There've been a few requests to preserve one or two of them as well-" "They want to keep them?!" Gemirina let out a sound akin to the hissing of steam. "Those growths are reminders of our defeat at the hands of a single xenosophont! Why in rot would they want to keep them?!" The swaying of Leillanduna's vines slowed down, and her expression grew sympathetic. "Captain, please don't be so hard on yourself. I keep telling you: nobody is blaming you for what happened!" Gemirina's foliage abruptly darkened. "I- I am not being hard on myself!" She bared her teeth for a moment, then quickly shut her mouth and shook her head. "Ugh. Never mind." Try being the only captain in the galaxy to nearly lose your ship to a single xenosophont, then tell me that again, she thought bitterly. "Anyway." She forced herself to lighten her tone. "I'm glad things are going well. Do we have an estimate on when repairs will be finished?" "Well, I mean; it really depends on how long it takes to decide on new designs for everything. But we'll have our own on-board fabricators back up and running in, hm, a week or two; tops? It'll probably still be another month until everything is fully back up and running, though." The captain nodded. "I see. Alright, well; thank you for your report, Leila. That'll be all for now." "Of course, captain!" The lieutenant turned to leave, then stopped abruptly and turned back around to face Gemirina. "Oh, and: Me and the rest of the command staff are having dinner at Vineima's tonight, if you want to come." Gemirina looked vaguely exasperated. "I'll be there." Several flowers bloomed on Leillanduna's form. "Yay! Okay, see you later, captain!" Gemirina tutted quietly as she watched the other affini leave. Leillanduna was good at her job, but Gemirina thought that she could really benefit from taking her position more seriously. She needs to understand that this isn't a joke. We affini might have been alright if the ship had been destroyed, but every xenosophont onboard is lucky to be alive right now. I don't understand how she and everyone else can be so chipper in light of that. "You could stand to learn a thing or two from her, my dear Gemirina." The sound of a synthesized voice suddenly filled the air around her, emanating from what seemed to be every direction all at once. "There really is no need to stay so wound up over this." Some of the needles on Gemirina's skin began to stand on edge, but she remained stationary. "I've told you to please not call me that, Actual. I've also asked you repeatedly to stop appearing without any warning." "Ah, I apologise for my misstep. An oldbloom like me can only remember so much, you see." Gemirina had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She knew for a fact that the ascended affini who served as the Longbough's heart had a memory far more perfect than any organic member of their race, but she knew equally well that if she tried to call her on it, the ship would just make up some excuse for her behaviour. "I was hoping to talk to you, Thisterila. Has there been any update on tracking the ship that attacked us?" "Unfortunately not." The lights on several buildings around them flickered and changed colour in time with the ship actual's words, serving as a sort of visualiser for her volume and tone of voice. "There has been no sign of the Rending Talon anywhere in Compact space since our last encounter with it. As you well know, tracking vessels through hyperspace is quite a nuisance, and my sensors weren't exactly in tip-top shape to record their trajectory when they departed." A momentary surge of anger flared within Gemirina at the ship's casual tone. "Your sensors would have been fine if you had followed my orders to break off chase when it became clear that they were baiting you." The lights on all of the buildings nearby dropped to a dull, pale glow. Gemirina felt a distinct, unplaceable aura of discomfort start to bear down upon her that made even more of her needles come out. Her voice turned steely. "Do not flare your biorhythm at me, ship. You might be older than me, but I am the duly elected captain of this vessel; and in combat situations, you answer to me." The pressure vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. "Of course, captain." Thisterila's voice had returned to its previous whimsical cadence, showing not a hint of the displeasure that had coloured it a moment ago. "It shan't happen again." Gemirina considered pointing out just how many times the ship actual had defied direct orders from her during her tenure as captain, but she once again didn't bother. For all that Compact regulations on the crewing of autonomous ships stated that sophont vessels were required to behave in a manner subordinate to their elected captain, the reality was that telling an affini ten times older than you to do something was much easier said than done. "I mean it, Thisterila. I've been lax with you so far because nothing you did up until now put anyone in danger, but this is different. Pursuing that ship put the lives of every sophont on the Longbough needlessly at risk." "With all due respect, captain, I believe I have made my position on that matter very clear. I still maintain that my daughter, no matter how rebellious of a manner she might presently be behaving in, would never harm another sophont." "How can you have such confidence in her after she defected from the Compact in direct defiance of your own orders? If you truly knew her as well as you say you do, then why did you let her leave in the first place?" "Even I am not omnipotent, Gemirina. I cannot predict my daughter's every movement down to such a fine degree." The lights on the buildings around them shone a cool, confident green. "But I am absolutely confident that no matter what else she may have come to believe, she still holds firm to the central principles of the Affini Compact. She desires as strongly as any one of us to ensure the health and wellbeing of all sophonts within the galaxy, and her present behaviour - although decidedly feralist in some regards - does not contradict that." Gemirina's vines shifted uneasily. As much as she found Thisterila infuriating and her relationship with her daughter even moreso, she couldn't help but feel somewhat moved by the unflinching confidence that the ship held in her progeny. "Very well. I hope that you understand there is still every chance she will be forcibly domesticated when we do finally bring her back to the Compact." "Of course, of course." Actual's voice took on a dismissive tone. "Do not misunderstand me, Gemirina; I have no illusions that her behaviour is in need of correcting. I dare say a century spent as a floret ought to be suitable punishment for the girl's obstinance. It will give her plenty of time to reflect upon her misdeeds, and will also ensure that she will be more receptive to future tutelage." She knew that Thisterila didn't really mean to suggest that florethood could be a punishment, but something about the turn of phrase still sparked a slight twinge of discomfort in her. I suppose it's a part of that mother-daughter roleplay thing they have going on. Roots, oldblooms are so strange... Opting to borrow a Terran gesture she had picked up, she cleared her throat. "Returning to the main topic. I presume there's also been no word of Punica Granatum?" "Yes." At this, Actual finally started to sound slightly serious. "Scouts finished scouring the jump site some time ago, and there were signs of detached grafts and dead foliage; but nothing resembling a core. With that in mind, there are only two possibilities: Either Punica remained attached to the ship's hull when it jumped and was torn apart in hyperspace, or she somehow found her way inside of the ship before then, and is presumably still there now." Gemirina raised a hand to her chin. "The former seems unlikely. You mentioned there were detached grafts, but from what I recall reading in the reports, they were primarily comprised of external flora. I took a look at her medical file, and she didn't have anything resembling a durable body composition: If she had stayed on the hull of the ship, she should have been torn practically in half down to the core by the time it made it to jump acceleration. If that in turn was the case, we should have found some of her internal growths floating in space, but I didn't see anything like that when I went over the files." "What a clever deduction that is," Thisterila said, voice filling with approval. "You think that she was able to enter the ship before it jumped, then?" The captain pointedly ignored the ship's attempts at praising her. "I don't see any other explanation for the lack of material at the jump site." Her eyes narrowed, and she hesitated for a moment. "The only problem is: If she did get into the ship, then why haven't we heard from her by now? That xenosophont was a Terran; she should have been able to subdue them within the hour once she got inside, but it's been over a week, and still nothing." She slowly tilted her head to one side. "Your daughter. She wouldn't have-" "No." Every one of Gemirina's vines vibrated with an intense rhythmic discomfort for a moment. "My daughter would not go so far as to oppose one of us directly." The ship's tone made it clear that her words were not something to be challenged. "Besides, it is not in her nature to intervene in conflicts between others. I can think of no reason why she would act to prevent Punica Granatum from pacifying our rogue xenosophont. If she truly wanted to, I am quite certain that she could pilot that ship on her own." There was a pause. "I still do not know why it is that she is working with them; or where in the stars she was even able to find a feral Terran in this day and age in the first place. Presumably, there must be some other circumstance we are not aware of which is keeping Punica occupied at present." The ship captain mulled the issue over for a moment, but there was nothing she could come up with. They knew frustratingly little about the Rending Talon, save that it was equipped with technology that far outstripped anything that the former Terran Accord ought to have been able to come up with, and even less about the sophont in command of it. That thought reminded Gemirina of something. "Are we still certain that Raqi Marr is, indeed, a Terran?" "Hm?" At this, Actual sounded confused. "Unless there is another bipedal humanoid species in this part of the galaxy that I have somehow not been made aware of, then I do not see what else she could be." Gemirina's eyes narrowed even further. Their current working hypothesis was that Raqi Marr was a heavily biomodded Terran; presumably some feral who had spent the years since the Accord's official surrender squirreled away in some base within an asteroid or another, and had emerged upon meeting - or perhaps been dragged out by - Thisterila's daughter. There was only one problem with this theory, and that was the language she spoke. "Have we managed to identify what dialect it was that she was speaking in the broadcast she sent during her first attack?" "We still have not. The clerks have compared it against every known major language spoken in the Protectorate, and they have found no matches. I am told they have moved on to regional languages, but there has still been nothing that bore any more than a passing resemblance." This issue bothered Gemirina. What were the odds that a feral Terran would somehow crawl out of the void more than a year after the last meaningful elements of Free Terran resistance had been stamped out, piloting a ship with technology more advanced than anything they had seen in any OCNI blacksite, had extensive biomodding the likes of which was only accessible to the former Accord's elite - whom they could be certain they were not one of, seeing as they had a list of every person who would have been able to afford that kind of surgery, and the xenosophont did not match any of their descriptions - and in addition to all of this, just so happened to have first tried speaking to them in some esoteric local dialect rather than Accord standard? Why? That was the question Gemirina kept asking herself. Why would they not just open in Accord standard? They only sent the one message in that other language, and it was the first time they appeared to attack a ship. Her vines twitched. Before we ran into them, they'd been gradually increasing the size of the vessels they were going after; presumably in line with their confidence in themselves. Why would they bother doing that, though, if they were already an experienced pilot? Surely they should have been confident in their own skills before picking a fight with the Affini rotting Compact. Could they have just wanted an opportunity to test the tech that they stole? No, if that was the case, they surely wouldn't have been so slow to build up the ships they were attacking. Again, her mind went back to that first transmission. Gemirina had watched them all hundreds of times; enough that she could practically recite them by heart now. The first one was unusual in that, beyond the foreign language, it was also the only one that didn't seem to be pre-recorded. There had been several noticeable errors in the message, and at one point, the xenosophont sending it had even seemed to get distracted by something going on in the ship and looked to have almost forgotten what she was doing. The first time Gemirina had seen it, she'd thought it was some kind of outtake or blooper reel from a show. Her vines fell still. What if that is what it was? What if, the first time she attacked one of our shuttles, it really was practise? Suddenly, her mind was racing. If they somehow aren't an experienced pilot, then maybe, the reason they started so small is because they really were getting their bearings. She thought again of the speech. If they were a novice, imagine how stressed they would have been in their first real combat scenario. You'd obviously pick something that couldn't fight back like a shuttle; but even then, there's every chance they would have been shaking like a newbloom. Her eyes twitched from place to place. What if they didn't think of that ahead of time, and just figured that they could record a transmission while orchestrating the attack? In that situation, you'd be guaranteed to make all sorts of mistakes. One of which could easily have been forgetting not to talk in your native language. "Actual," Gemirina spoke, breaking the silence. "How many worlds were there in the Accord in which Accord standard wasn't the primary spoken language?" "A fair few; at the outer edges of their space, at least. Not many near the centre. Why?" "...Tell the clerks to check all of those worlds first." "Oh?" Curiosity filled the ship's voice. "Do you have an idea?" As she opened her mouth to reply, an involuntary shiver of excitement ran through Gemirina's body. "I'm starting to think that Raqi Marr might not be a Terran at all."