The Mercy of Humans: Part 100 - Might As Well Enjoy It

First - Last

On the border of Federation space, in the near useless system Ur, you will find the space station TFSS Ascension. Ur has no habitable planets and little spaceborn industry to support the station. It had been just not financially feasible for private industry to invest this far away from any populous system.

The Federation built the station over a hundred years ago to support border defenses. It did not even have a name, just a number, DBS-10-1A. It was an unpopular posting. Those that got sent there referred to it as the ‘Ass End of the Federation.’ That evolved into Ascend Station. The Navy hated that name but could not stamp it out. So they altered it to Ascension, claiming it was named after Ascension Island in the South Atlantic Ocean on Terra.

Ascension Island was garrisoned by the British and was an important refueling stop for ships and commercial airliners in the days of international air travel by flying boats. During World War II, it was an important naval and air station and provided a base for antisubmarine warfare. The similarities were enough that many people accepted the change with little argument or discontent.

When it was first built, it boasted a permanent squadron of only two cruisers, four light cruisers, six frigates, and twelve destroyers. The station housed a hundred fighters and twenty gunships. All told, it was an underwhelming naval force. Ascension’s defensive capabilities are somewhat impressive, but ultimately, without a large fleet presence, it was little more than a tripwire.

But in the last forty years things had changed. Its strategic military location was also a strategic transshipping location. Long haul shipping was a complex web of nodal orbital warehouses and transshipping ports. It was more cost effective to have ships run specific routes drop and pickup loads at these ports and return than to run from pickup to drop off points.

This empty chunk of space became an important hub for transshipping from Federation hulls to non-human ships. As such, it had developed into a large support infrastructure with thousands of cubic kilometers of warehouses and docking facilities, and very little was government owned.

The fleet defenses had expanded into a powerful task group totaling forty ships, the largest the Audacious class battle cruiser, TFN Retribution. but the economic benefits of the location meant all the local political entities had a stake in its continued prosperity. In all the years Ascension had existed, it had not once been attacked.

Under pressure from all the local star nations, especially the Confederation, even the Zygels and Vredeen stayed away. That was helped by the fact that multiple nations sent their own ships, sometimes flotillas up to seventy ships, to pass through the area on ‘friendly visits.’

This led to a unique situation in the system. While under Federation law, there were often forty or more sentient species in the system. Which meant that there were many opportunities for simple misunderstandings or disputes to escalate. It often resembled the old Wild West more than a modern space station. That meant the station security was not staffed entirely by humans.

Outside any local gravity well, the station was not limited to traditional designs. Most human space stations were long spindles with multiple rings connected by large spokes. Ascension Station was more like interconnected snowflakes. Many of the sections were owned and operated by private entities, both corporate and foreign governments. These foreign government-owned sections had been given unofficial embassy status, even if there were no real embassy personnel.

The station itself took up over five hundred chaotic cubic kilometers, and the system had an average of nine hundred every day. That meant system control had to be on the ball. Mistakes could lead to massive damages and loss of life.

The central command and control deck for the station was state-of-the-art, constantly manned with a hundred thirty-five-person crew. The large main holotank stood sixty meters tall and fifty in diameter and filled the center of the workspace. The central tank tracked incoming and outgoing vessels on a system scale.

Spaced evenly around it were twelve smaller holotanks, each twenty meters in diameter. Each of these twelve tanks were dedicated to a specific area of the station. They took over from the system control and guided ships into the docking ports of their assigned section.

Further out were fifteen other smaller tanks dedicated to the guidance of ships into the private ports. These stations handed over incoming ships to the private flight controllers only when they reached the designated space for the private docks and their accompanying orbital warehouses.

That was all the civilian space control. Military ships came under the military controllers who occupied a small deck above the civilian controllers. The military had final decision-making authority on any ship in the system and the firepower to back it up.

While the military had control over the local space, Customs Enforcement and the system’s local patrol cutters plied all through the local space, enforcing the laws as needed. Because, by law, the military cannot enforce Federation laws. There are some exceptions. The military can put down an insurrection, defend against any overwhelming forces that the civilian forces cannot handle, defend law enforcement or civilians under attack, and support law enforcement operations in a technical, transport, intelligence, or support role.

Needless to say, it is a complex soup with way too many chefs.

“Central Control, we got a Zecu'i'id merchie coming in asking permission to dock on the main arm, section C.” It was one of the inbound system controllers calling.

“C-3, confirm,” Mario Ybarra replied. “Inbound Zecu'i'id merchant ship for main arm. Pass it through.”

Division C handled all traffic to and from the station’s main docking arm. The main arm being five times as long as any other arm, it was divided into sections 1 through 5. Mario worked the third shift, and his main assignment was section three, though he could handle all five if needed.

The ship’s icon popped into his control station’s smaller holoscreen. From the trajectory, it had come in from the direction of the Ghenge Empire.

The ship’s name was unpronounceable by human vocal cords. Zecu’i’ish physiology was so different than humans. Their breathing and vocal apparatus was separate from their mouths and digestive system. Instead of vocal cords like many species, the Zecu’i’ish have a hollow structure that performs much like a flute. By opening and closing internal valves, they can create thousands of unique sounds. Their language is completely tonal, even into ranges humans cannot hear.

The ship’s tag showed the human translation, ‘Eye of the Pale Flower in Moonlight Under a Cloudy Sky.’ Humans had used other sentient’s languages, peoples who had interacted with the Zecu’i’id for hundreds to thousands of years, as a basis for translations.

“That’s a mouthful,” he mumbled. Luckily, he could use his primary link to easily translate for him.

“System Control to Zecu’i’id cargo ship, Eye of the Pale Flower in Moonlight Under a Cloudy Sky. Sending navigation waypoints now. Come to zeroes at waypoint Zulu. Confirm please.”

Coming to zeroes is the astro navigation term for zero velocity and zero rotation in the X, Y, and Z axes. It did not matter how many waypoints were set, waypoint Zulu is always the final waypoint in the navigation string.

“System Control, Eye of the Pale Flower in Moonlight Under a Cloudy Sky confirms. Starting navigation to waypoint Alpha. Come to zeroes at Waypoint Zulu. Estimated time to Point Zulu is nine hours, fifteen minutes.” The reply was an excellent mimicry of a female human’s speech. A melodic voice with a hint of huskiness.

“Your AI translator program is excellent. It almost sounds like I am talking to a human,” he said.

“That’s because it is not a translator. My name is Éadaoin, and I am human, from Acadia.”

“Well, my name is Mario, nice to meet you. I haven’t heard of humans being hired aboard Zecu’i’ish hulls.”

“It is becoming more commonplace. Hulls that interact with human territories are hiring people like me as translators and intermediaries because we understand humans and human activities. It pays well and I have seen a bunch of planets I’d never even known about.”

“Sounds fun. Are you unloading or transshipping any cargo?”

“Yes,” Éadaoin replied. “Full load of cargo inbound for Ascension station. Foodstuffs and supplies for several businesses on station, mostly non-human restaurants. List of cargo and destinations sent.”

“Gotcha. You are assigned docking bay C-3-12. I will have a customs inspection team meet you at the cargo unloading bays. Any personnel leaving your ship must submit proof of identification, medical paperwork, and consent to biosignature monitoring.”

“Why biosignature monitoring? I’ve never seen that before,” Éadaoin said. “When did this start?”

“The Federation is on a war footing. All traffic through Federation space is being closely monitored. All transshipments are being searched, and all non-Federation sentients are logged and tracked while on Federation planets or stations.”

“I see. And does this apply to ships docking in non-Terran controlled ports on Ascension?”

“Non-Terran sections, including all orbiting warehouses and stations are still subject to Federation laws. This whole system is Federation territory, no matter how much other sentients have invested in building their own infrastructure or industry. If you have anyone aboard that doesn’t want to be scanned, don’t let them off the ship. It’s that simple.”

When the ship did not reply, he continued, “I will continue to monitor your progress and check in if needed. Contact me if you need anything.”

“Affirmative, Control. Eye of the Pale Flower in Moonlight Under a Cloudy Sky clear.”

“I think she likes you,” The comment came from the station to his left. Jenna Elcyzyn was a close friend, if a bit inexperienced.                              

“Pfft. Get real, Jen. A two-minute audio conversation does not give anyone that feeling.”

“You should have switched to video,” she chuckled. “You know, haven’t seen a Zecu ship come through here before.

“It is a bit odd. The Empire is opposite side of Federation space from the Zecu’i’id Republic space. You’d expect that a Zecu’i’id ship would ply Zecu’i’id spacelanes. But there’s nothing illegal about it, as long as they are following all the laws and abiding by the trade agreements, they are golden.”

They were interrupted by their team lead, Charles Pfluger. “Flag that ship. Send a report up the chain. Send it to FIIS, customs and system patrol. Something feels off about it. I want someone to pay close attention to it.”

“Again?” Mario replied. “You know the last three times you had me do that they told us to stay in our lane. The first one was polite. The last one was not. How about I send the flag report to you, and you send it up the chain?”

“Because I told you to do it. Clear?” Pfluger snapped.

“Clear.” Mario opened the flag report and spoke, “Over my protest, based on the feedback given on previous reports, my team lead, Charles Pfluger has instructed me to send up an addendum to the flag for the Zecu’i’id cargo ship, the Eye of the Pale Flower in Moonlight Under a Cloudy Sky. He thinks you should pay close attention to it. Have a nice day.”

Jen held back a chuckle because Pfluger was still standing nearby. She could see him seething and glaring at Mario.

“Mario, sign off. In my office now.” Pfluger’s voice was clipped with barely controlled anger. He pivoted and nearly stomped into his office.

“Signing off. Ya’ll have fun without me.” Mario connected his class two government link to his workstation, sending several files before logging out.

He followed Pfluger into the office but did not close the door. Pfluger sat down at his desk with a frown and triggered it to close. “Sit.”

Mario followed the order, deciding not to push the issue, but as he did, he slipped his datapad off his wrist and tapped it flat.

“Effective immediately, you are on a three-day suspension.” Marti sat back with a small smile.

“For what reason?”

“Gross insubordination.”

‘Okay. Hold that thought.” Mario placed his datapad on the desk and activated it. A small hologram of another man’s face floated above it. “First of all, you decided to have a discipline meeting without letting me get a union steward. That’s against the rules, and you know it.”

“But you are a steward,” Pfluger protested.

“I’ll let Dmitri handle that.”

“A steward cannot be the representative on his own disciplinary charge,” the hologram answered. “And if you don’t know that, you need to go back to basic management training. And there is no regulatory statute or rule defining gross insubordination within the Space Traffic Control, nor is there anything in the union contract.”

Pfluger glared at Mario and the hologram in turn. “Mario sent an addendum to a report as I instructed, but in a way to specifically make me look bad.”

“Really?” Dmitri asked. “I am looking at the report right now, with the accompanying video footage.”

“I didn’t give you access to that,” Pfluger complained. “How’d you get access to that?”

“I sent it to him. Part of the grievance process. We get access to all the raw data pertaining to the complaint. Don’t worry, Dmitri has a higher security clearance than you.”

Pfluger harrumphed in displeasure.

“While Mario could have said it a bit more politically correct, nothing he said in his addendum was inaccurate. And unfortunately for you, there are also no rules on internal or interagency communications that cover this. That means you cannot suspend him without us filing a grievance.”

“No, Dmitri, He’s already flagged my personnel file. That makes it official. I think I will let him suspend me and we file the grievance and take it to upper management, and if we get nowhere, we take it to the Federal Labor Relations Board.”

“What?” Pfluger sounded a bit panicked now. “Well, there’s no need-”

“I disagree, Chuck.” Mario knew his boss hated to be called Chuck, but at this point he did not care a bit. “For some reason, since you walked onto this deck, you’ve gone out of your way to make my job more difficult, even creating on a hostile work environment. And other people have noted it. You assign me duties outside the scope of my job description, yet you never do that with anyone else. You review my decisions at four times the rate of the next controller. You countermand my traffic control decisions an average of two times a shift. The most you have done for anyone else averages once in a three-point-five-week period. And when you do that to me, you never give me a valid reason why.

“I have added all that to the grievance, also. I do not know why you dislike me, but right now, the feeling is well beyond mutual. In the six-month period you have been here, you have had eleven grievances filed against you. And six have been successful. You are not a Marine captain anymore. And we are not dumb ass privates that you can mistreat. Honestly, if this is what you call leadership, it is no wonder you are no longer a Marine officer.”

“That’s uncalled for,” Pfluger seethed. Mario had hit a nerve.

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Now, if you will excuse me, I have three days to kill.” He picked up his datapad, “Dmitri, I will talk to you later.”

 

***************************

 

Hours later, Mario wandered across a moderately busy atrium. Ascension had a dozen or more atriums. Unlike atriums on a planet, these had large overhead domes equipped with holoprojectors that showed images from different planets. Some even had live birds or their xeno-equivalents. These large spaces allowed the station’s residents to experience something like being on a planet when they chose. This one had a large pond with Terran waterfowl.

He checked his datapad and discovered that the sky shown right now was noon over Acadia’s largest national park. It was an unlikely coincidence, but one that didn’t bother him at all.

He found his favorite spot, a secluded clearing near the pond, where a small, artificial brook bubbled down a hill into it. The area was surrounded by large bushes and a few evergreens. It was not precisely that he was avoiding people, but when he had downtime, he often came here to relax and read.

He pulled his backpack off and quickly set up a portable hammock chair. He pulled a paperback book from the pack, along with a large, sealed mug of iced Calabrian coffee, heavy cream, light sugar and a hint of vanilla. Calabria was the only planet humans had found that produced superior coffee to Terra. Its soil made it the most productive agricultural planet in the Federation, and within the top ten in known space. More importantly, it required very little in the way of terraforming. It was damned near paradise.

The paperback was a bit of an affection. All literature was published electronically. Some planets still had paper printing presses. The paper was nothing like it was in centuries past. Instead of simple wood pulp pressed together and rolled out flat, this ‘paper’ was high tech, durable, and could last for centuries. Some often had imbedded smart ink that could be used for animated images.

He used his datapad to read often, but he just liked the feel of the book and turning pages with his hands. Today he was reading War of the Worlds, by H.G. Wells. This antique story, published in 1897, was one of the first science fiction stories to deal with conflicts with an extraterrestrial enemy. He liked to read this kind of older story because it shined a light on pre-space humanity’s fears and expectations of what extraterrestrial life and interactions would be. And how wrong it often was.

The artificial environment included a refreshing breeze, and the wind rippled across the pond. He sat back in the chair and cracked open the coffee with a satisfied sigh. This coffee was expensive, but worth it. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it.

Before he started reading, he tossed some floating feed out on the pond for the waterfowl. They were pretty tame already, but he’d developed a relationship with the larger swans. These large birds would even come lay down next to him, especially if he brought along some raw fish. Today was no different. The mated pair swam up and gracefully, with heads bobbing up and down with each step, waddled out of the water.

“Ola, ‘Ricardo. Ola’ Lucie,” he called out to them. “I got your fishies. Come and get them.”

Mario opened a sealed bag and grimaced. The fish had gone a bit ripe, but the swans didn’t care one bit. He tossed a few to his large feathered friends, who eagerly gulped them down. Lucie was quite a bit more friendly than Ricardo. He trusted Mario, but kept a bit of distance. She would come close and all her head to be scratched occasionally.

When she did, Mario waved his left hand over a small tag on her left leg. All of the animals on the station had a tag. It allowed the station to track their location as well as monitor their health. Lucie’s tag had a bit extra built into it.

Mario, like all government employees, had the primary link with the secondary secure government link. He also had a third, covert link. This link had a longer range than the others, out to almost a meter. It was similar in concept to the Omni-link. It was grown from the host’s own DNA and completely separate from the other links. Unlike the Omni-link, this covert link was much smaller, with more limited purpose and capacity. This made it damn near invisible to all but the most invasive medical scans.

His covert link accessed a data file hidden in Lucie’s tag. It was a simple way to pass information, an unsuspecting mobile dead drop. The tag was designed in such a way as only specific covert links could even see it, much less access it. In addition to Mario, only four people knew of the tag’s existence.

“That’s a good girl,” he said softly. “Here’s the rest of the fish for your troubles.”

He tossed the rest of the fish to the mated pair before accessing the downloaded data. It took just a few seconds to scan through it all before deleting the data entirely. Deleting the stored data was easy and unretrievable for the organic computer. It simply killed the cells where the data was stored. Once these cells died, their organic material was process through the body, just like any other waste. It was an elegant and simple process.

“Interesting. Now how can I use that information?” He mumbled. His three-day suspension was now something more than a small vacation. He had work to do.

But first he needed to spend the right amount of time next to the pond reading, to ensure anyone watching him would see something he did regularly with no discernible differences. Hiding in plain sight was often as easy as showing people what they expected to see.

***************************

 

Forty-three minutes later, his reverie was interrupted by a petite blonde woman with short curly hair and bright blue-grey eyes pushing through the shrubs. It almost irritated him, but he realized it was a public space. It would be wrong to get mad at someone for doing the same thing as him.

“Sorry to interrupt you,” she said.

The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d heard it before.

“She was right,” the stranger announced.

“Who was right?” He asked. “And what was she right about.”

“Oh, sorry. Jenna was right. She said you’d be here and that I should come meet you.”

“Éadaoin?”

“Right in one. Jenna took over when you went off shift. We had a good, long conversation. She talked quite highly of you. She went on and on about how handsome and funny you were. And smart, and clever, and honorable… and so much more Honestly, I think she likes you a bit.”

“That’s funny. She said the same thing about you after you signed off.”

“Really? How could we have had that kind of connection over just a few minutes,” she replied. “I mean, I thought you sounded quite nice. But you can never tell until you meet someone in person.”

“Yeah. So, Jenna talked you into meeting me? I guess I shouldn’t get upset with a friend who is trying to meddle with the best of intentions.”

“Oh. Um… Does that mean you don’t want to meet me?” Éadaoin’s voice held a hint of sorrow and he felt bad for how he’d said it.

“Oh, no. Not at all. I am sorry if it came across that way. It’s just that I haven’t had many people try to set me up on blind dates.”

“And they don’t get any blinder than this,” she agreed. “But I am not really out looking for romance, and I am not the type to sleep around. I asked Jenna what fun things were to do aboard the station, and she said that you’d be the best person to ask. You know more about this place than most people, and you have a lot of contacts with people. My contract is up aboard the Eye, and I am looking for a new berth. With all the bad shit going on lately, I feel the need to come home.”

“I see. Not a problem then. I do know a lot of fun things to do. I can take you to some very nice restaurants, or the hole in the wall greasy spoons that have authentic ethnic foods from all over the galaxy. We recently had a Khuglan set up shop on the Blue Arm, habitat section. Or we could do some Acadian cuisine on the Red Arm. But we can figure all of that out later. I need to pack up here and drop this all back at my place.”

“Your place? Remember, I said I don’t sleep around.”

“I remember. You can wait outside if it satisfies your honor. The last thing I’d do is something immoral like that. I don’t know you yet, but I’d like to. As my sister would tell me, ‘Don’t fuck it up like guys do.’ I like to think I am a bit better than that.”

“Older sister?”

“One of four older sisters. I am the only boy out of nine. I was surrounded by girls. Plus, my mom and all my nine aunts, and don’t get me started on my abuelas. They’d whip with a thorn bush if they thought I did anything to harm a woman.”

“I like your family already. I was an only child for thirty years, but mom decided I needed a brother about nine years ago. I think she got bored. I don’t really see him much, and we don’t have much in common.”

After Mario packed his gear into his pack, they headed down the banks to the more popular areas. “That’ll change when you get older. If you put the effort in.”

As they spoke, Mario started to worry a bit. After the message he’d gotten, letting a stranger into his life could be problematic. He doubted she was lying about why she was here. Complications were something he avoided religiously, but turning away a pretty girl, no a beautiful woman, was not something a normal guy would do. He was just stuck with it, might as well enjoy it. Keeping his eyes open, of course.