Captain Cheekeet Longflight was a feathered avian, capable of flight in 1.5 standard gravity (which she had found out 1 standard gravity was .75G Earth), an Akltak considered to a be a neo-sapient UnUnified Species by the Galactic Council. She was an experienced ship pilot and colony environmental engineer.
For her, it had all started with the destruction of her colony by a Precursor war machine, a rescue by a human being who chose to live the life of a fictional character, then an invite by the Confederate Naval Forces (Fast Response) to battle the Precursor machines.
For three months she had been on the ship of Terran Admiral Yamamoto. She had learned how to use the gestalt targeting system to help the weapon targeting systems and virtual intelligences, how to wear the ship-board armored vacuum suit, how to use Terran shipboard systems, and learned a lot about Terrans themselves.
She had also taken part in nine fleet actions in ninety-three days. The speed at which they re-armed, refitted, repaired, and rejoined the action was nothing less than amazing to her. She'd seen a ship with a hole clear through it, held together by integrity fields, the crew's willpower, and wishes be repaired and rejoin the fleet in less than thirty days. She's heard ship Captains tearfully beg the Admiral not to send their ship to the breakers, that it 'just needed a little time in the repair docks' when it was everything but broken in half.
Cheekeet had been educated in the Unified Inner Worlds, learned to be a pilot, since her race naturally took to spaceflight, taught by the Unified Military Fleet to be a ship's Captain.
But she'd never imagined becoming that attached to a ship that the military had assigned to you.
But after an even one hundred days aboard the CNV Jesse L. Brown, a massive multi-role craft that even had parasite vessels it would launch to harry the enemy, she felt a longing sadness as she boarded the shuttle to take her to the surface of the planet.
She found herself turning her head around on her long neck to look behind her several times.
Before she had found it squat and ugly, two Terran 'miles' long, a half 'mile' thick, and shaped like a seed, it was covered in guns, armor, launch bays and tubes.
Now it was beautiful to her eyes, even with the craters in the armor and the damaged weapons and scanner arrays. She could see the sparkling of welders as the massive ship underwent repairs. The last battle, only a week ago, the Goliath's had targeted it as the flagship with their "Kill the Queen" philosophy.
The massive Terran war machine had taken the beating and pounded its opponents into scrap metal despite the size disparity.
She sighed as she rolled and landed feet first in the gravity of the station.
It amused her that she'd seen the ship arrive in orbit and then suddenly start to shift around parts of its superstructure and outside until a heavy looking armed space station had taken the ship's place.
"Mission Configurable Digital Sentience War Chassis" was how it was explained to her. She'd still needed it explained further and it was basically a self-aware sentient warship that could change its body's functions to carry out missions.
It still gave her a slight tail-feather tickle of nervousness that she was now inside the body of a literal artificial intelligence.
--Welcome to the CSF Jumping Jack-- appeared on her datalink to eye linkage. --Is there anything I can do for you, Captain Longflight?--
"Can you show me the way to Shuttle 612, please, Jack?" she subvocalized. That trick had taken a little while to master.
--Of course, Captain. Welcome home.-- Jack answered. He checked her vitals, compared them against what little he knew about her species. He wasn't a medical officer and having the files and knowing exactly how to use them were two different things. She looked calm, slightly distressed but more sadness than anything.
That was fairly common with combat sailors leaving the ship they'd engaged the enemy with.
Cheekeet saw the faint glowing line appear in her vision as if it was on the floor.
"Thank you, Jack," she said. She followed the line, which took her to a shuttle.
Unified Species shuttles were all carefully crafted to use the minimum amount of resources to allow the craft to be safe, shaped more like they were half melted, and had two sections, one for four legged and tailed species, one for two legged without tail species.
Terran craft had configurable seats of something called 'polymorphic frame and memory foam' that shifted to fit ergonomically no matter how one's limbs and torsos were arranged. The shuttles all looked like they were about to flown into combat. Heavy armor, crysteel forward window, multiple exits, rear engines, stubby wings with rotating jets. There were nullgrav and graviton systems, but something about Terran psychology made them prefer powered craft rather than the smooth feeling of counter-grav.
She sat down and waited for the seat to configure to her. It was obvious she was the first Akltak the seat or the shuttle had encountered since it took a few moments for it to adjust.
But when it did, it was almost as comfortable as her flag bridge crash couch.
In all fairness, that device had been given over a hundred days to achieve maximum comfort.
Other Akltak's boarded, all looking curiously at the shuttle. A ship from the Unified Outer Rim world the majority of her species lived on had docked, which was the whole reason she had left the CNV Jesse L. Brown while it underwent repairs.
The humans had taken the planet by force, wresting it away from the Precursors who had jumped in while Task Force Argo had been checking the system. When no claims against it were found the Admiral had offered it for sale to Cheekeet.
At first Cheekeet had been unsure she could afford it. No, she had known she couldn't afford it. But after the paperwork was filed, including volunteer service, survivor of a Precursor Extinction Attack, a Colony Destruction Survivor, and many other forms she had not only been able to afford to purchase the system from the Terran Colony Administration but had enough left in rebates to outfit the colony.
When she'd offered the Admiral permission to put Confederate Naval Stations in the system, he'd requested and gotten permission to have a Naval Forward Operations Base built.
Which was why the CNV Jesse L. Brown and over a dozen other ships were waiting for refit.
It's funny. I bought this colony nearly sixty days ago and already my people are arriving. Already buildings and support structures had been built. I bought this in the name of my species and now we're an 'allied joint defense planet' to the Confederacy, she thought.
She saw the Akltak who had just boarded look startled at how fast the seats adjusted to comfort. She felt hers adjust a slight bit more, feeling better, and knew the system was gathering data to ensure everyone was comfortable.
Soon the shuttle's seats were all full and the door closed. A hologram flickered, then looked like it solidified in front of everyone. Her fellow Akltak clacked their beaks and clicked their tongues in alarm. It looked like a Terran made of metal with the red markings of Terran medical associations on the sleeve cuffs and down one side of the front of the chrome jacket.
She barely managed to keep from snapping "AT EASE!" like a Terran military officer.
"Greetings, Gentlebeings, I am Dulcet-55817A, your pilot and shuttle for this landing. Later I will be your medical diagnostic digital sentience for your initial colony efforts. I will be joining your colony as a full Citizen, with approval of your colony board in ninety days. I look forward to getting us all safely to the ground and then assisting you in your medical needs," the hologram said. "Currently I am appearing as a hard light construct as my body is in the cargo hold with all of our luggage," the figure laughed. "It will be approximately forty-five minutes until we land. For those of you who wish to watch the landing from the cockpit, simply let me know and I'll have streamed directly to your implant."
Her fellow Akltak bobbed their heads and made clicking noises, somewhat surprised, when the hologram disappeared and the shuttle bumped slightly as it disconnected.
Cheekeet was tempted to watch the flight from the 'pilot view' which she knew would be eVR, but she afraid she'd try to side-seat pilot after three months of guiding VI's into enemy ships. Instead she chose to watch her fellow Akltak during the flight.
"Dulcet?" she subvocalized.
--Yes, Captain Longflight?-- the DS answered.
"Can you alert me to any of my fellow Akltaks who begin showing signs of distress?" she asked.
--Of course, Captain-- Dulcet replied.
She paid attention during the flight. Nobody got too distressed, although two chicks woke up hungry and were peeping for food. The parent was worried a few moments until Duclet offered a dropper full of food. The mother had been expecting nutripaste and was surprised that it was come kind of liquid that the chicks liked so much their peeping 'is good' woke up other chicks, all of whom wanted to try to the treat.
Dulcet informed her the mothers had asked what was in it after they had tasted it and found it very tasty. It was a synthetic nutri-gel that had been tailored specifically for the needs of Akltak chicks based on Dulcet's files.
The shuttle finally landed and everybeing got off, walking out onto the tarmac surprised by how professional and well put together it was. It used high temp plascrete for the ground, decorated at the edges to be pleasing. The concourse was comfortably open, decorated to appeal to Akltak cultural sensitivities, and was easy to move through.
The gravity was comfortable and twice Cheekeet saw the little chicks flap their wings, exercising and trying to get into the air. The air was sweet, despite the fact that Cheekeet knew that thirty days ago the planet had been completely untouched as the colony's first vehicles and machines had arrived.
"Momma! Look!" one of the younger moltlings cried out, pointing at the parking lot as Cheekeet waited for a vehicle to pick her up.
The shuttle was trembling and as she watched the shuttle suddenly bent in the middle. Around her Akltak gasped as it raised up, the engines retracted, and the shuttle walked away on two big legs.
Cheekeet could barely keep from laughing as her datalink updated from 'Dulcet - DS Shuttle' to 'Dulcet - DS Medical Clinic - In Transit' as she watched the gigantic robot walk away.
A car arrived, a Terran waving to her, pinging her implant. She put her luggage in the back storage container and got in the front next to the Terran, who here implant stated was "Trevor Howard, Colony Construction Administration - VERIFIED" when she looked at him.
"Welcome to your new home, Captain," the Terran said as he pulled out and headed down a ribbon of plascrete.
"Thank you, Terran," Cheekeet answered. She looked out the window at the fields of waving grass. "The starport looks very nice."
"Thank you. I selected the site myself. It's as close to the tree line as I dare get. I don't want a badly tuned drive to shake everyone's windows or disturb unhatched chicks," the Terran said.
During the drive she questioned him about the colony. How many Akltak had arrived. Nearly a quarter million in the last three weeks, most of them transferred by a Junker named Max-a-Millions who had reconfigured his ship for refugee and passenger carry. How did they handle the trip? They had found it quite comfortable. How had they reacted to the colony world? Very well. The few survivors from her old colony were having some troubles but they were responding well to psychotherapy. How long until the colony construction would be complete? Within a year.
The car pulled into the small unit that would be her house and the Terran bid her a good evening, saying that he would see her again when she was ready to assume her duties.
She went into the little dwelling, surprised at how comfortable it was. Perching stands, comfortable furniture, and she had to admit she had gotten a bit spoiled when she was glad to see that she had an eVR room and eVR with hard light projectors.
It was at least ten times the size of her berth on the CNV Jesse L. Brown and it felt strange to her. She realized only after eating her meal that she'd punched up the same thing she had eaten onboard the massive warship instead of looking at the rest of the menu. She sighed, had her implant put those recipes further down the list with a star on them, and went to bed.
She woke up, shuddering, after dreaming she was standing on the planet, a massive hammer in each winghand, pounding the colony into shards with C+ hammers.
--Do you need assistance, Captain?-- appeared on her retina along with Dulcet's ID.
"Just a nightmare, Dulcet," Cheekeet said.
--I have the therapeutic dream generator set up if you need it--
"That's all right. Thank you though."
--If you need my services, feel free to ping me even if I'm asleep--
"Digital Sentients sleep? I thought you didn't."
--We take the time to defrag our files, run algorythms to decide which memories go into long term slow access storage and which ones go into short term rapid access, do diagnostics on our interfaces, and many other things that would cause discomfort to perform while we are awake--
"Oh. That makes sense, I guess. What if there's an emergency?"
--If it can't be handled by the eVI's then I'm woken up. It takes me a minute or two to come to full awareness, but it doesn't adversely effect me for two long.--
"Before I go back to sleep, are there any problems?"
--A few cases of homesickness, a moltling bit her sister, and one of the humans fractured his leg betting he could jump from a higher distance than his Akltak room-mate. And your emergency, of course.--
"All right. Thank you. I'm going to try to go to sleep."
--Rest well, Captain. Oh, if you have trouble falling asleep, there's a program in your eVR called 'riding on the metro' that might help you if you run it sound and vibration only--
The call disconnected and Cheekeet laid there in the dark for almost an hour before getting up. She went through the eVR menu, found the program, turned off the smell, tactile, and visual, and ran it. There was the faint sound of an engine, a vibration of movement and energy, and the faint sense of distance receding.
She was asleep in minutes.
Two days later she had a visitor to her little house. When she answered the door a tall lean Terran stood there. His face was narrow, sharp looking, with intent eyes, his haircut seeming to be threatening somehow.
"Captain Cheekeet Longflight?" he asked.
For a split second Cheekeet had a vision of the human just suddenly stabbing her and walking away.
"Yes?" she asked carefully.
"I am Avery Dewey, of Dewey, Chetum & Howe, Legal Representation Firm," the man said.
Oh shit, a lawyer! she thought, wondering if she could shut the door, set her house on fire, and escape out the back door and into the woods before he could file any lawsuits against her.
The lawyer waited patiently for the Akltak female's panic to subside. He was a professional barrister with nearly five hundred years of work experience on his resume.
He was used to panic.
"Um, please come in," Cheekeet said, remembering you had to invite Terrans inside.
"Thank you. Do you prefer Captain, Captain Longflight, or Cheekeet?" the Terran asked, following her into the relaxation room.
"Cheekeet is fine," she said, settling down on a perching branch. The lawyer sat down and she noticed that it didn't bother to shift ergonomics, just remained looking uncomfortable.
"Very well, Cheekeet. I am here as your legal representative for your colony with the regards to the Unified Civilized Councils, et al, those Councils and legal bodies known and unknown, for the purpose of ensuring your colonist and species rights are upheld," the man said. His voice was even, no inflections, no accent, perfect Unified Standard.
Cheekeet just nodded.
"Currently your race has been emancipated, with the Unified Councils being forced to pay you reperations for involuntary servitude during your probationary period. Additionally, Johnson, Jackson, and Johnston are representing your species in a case of malicious colony assignment, which appears will be found for your species and against the Unified Colony Council," Dewey stated. "The Unified Council has demanded that your species leave your homeworld, but as the resources of your system have largely been extracted, your ecosystem and culture were largely destroyed by the Unified Colony Council and its agents, it has been determined that this will cause minimal species stress upon you."
From there it got more complicated. Her race was suing the Councils for over a hundred different reasons, right down to reparations for her entire system being strip mined for use by the Core Systems as well as the transportation costs her species to arrive at the system and the cost for colonization of the system.
The Terran Colony Administration had found that four of nearby systems contained planets optimum for her species and had assessed the cost of transfer of those systems to the Akltak people, then sued the Unified Colony Council for the balance of the systems and the projected cost of relocating her people and all their possessions and installing basic, to Confederate standards, colony facilities, with no deductions.
And won without the opportunity for appeal.
From the way Dewey made it sound, Lanaktallans hid behind potted plants or galloped away when they saw representatives of Johnson, Jackson, and Johnston anywhere nearby.
Her head whirled. Not one system, but five. More than her people had previously possessed.
The Terran Space Force wanted to put refit, rearming, and repair bases in her systems with mutual defense pacts. Corporations were vying for her people's artwork and cultural art forms.
A twenty year old Akltak had performed the ritual Dance of Sorrow of Summer's End in a home made costume, uploaded it to SolNet, and become massively wealthy as the video was download or watched over a hundred and twenty billion times. Apparently it was extremely popular with the Clone Worlds and the two avian species of the Confederacy.
As her people had volunteered for various duties the Terran Confederacy was willing to discuss treaties with her people.
When Dewey left Dulcet had contacted her and recommended a dust bath and a short flight to ease her tension.
The swooping and soaring of flight in the clear sweet air soothed her. Helped her think about the future.
The failure of her colony had threatened her people with corporate absorption. Before the Terran lawyers had stepped in nearly a hundred corporations had bid for her people's potential contracts. Chicks would have been born into slavery and debt.
Now, fierce primates who took joy in battle and challenge, had freed her people from the shackles that had been being rattled in front of the chicks.
She settled down on a branch, marveling at the trees. They towered hundreds of feet high, with thick spaced branches that were perfect for landing upon.
The colony was spread out before her. She could see the medical clinic that was Dulcet's body, a small metallic robot out front planting decorative plants. She could see her people at an open air market, moving around, talking to one another.
She watched for a while then flew home.
Over the next few weeks she dealt with Akltak who were afraid that this was all some kind of sick joke. That Terran soldiers were going to arrive and make them all slaves, or worse, eat them at any second. A moltling escaped and the panicked mother had to be soothed for the ten minutes before it was found watching Dulcet plant flowers. Several Akltak had panicked when they discovered that the massive structures outside the starport were self-aware super-tanks. She arranged for tours to meet the Terran pilot and the super-tank's Digital Sentience.
Cheekeet found herself buried in busywork.
A Confederate Navy Officer came by to give her several awards in a quiet, private ceremony in her office that was witnessed by Dulcet and, of all people, Dewey. She was asked if she wished to sign up for any Civilian Reserve status and be 'on the beach' to use the slang. She'd agreed, without really thinking of it.
Then came the news.
The Lanaktallan had attacked the Terran Confederacy. Not just any attack, but had struck directly at civilian planets without even any military presence in the system.
The word went out.
AN ATTACK UPON ONE OF US IS AN ATTACK ON US ALL
She found herself, one drizzling afternoon, staring at the Leekteek Memorial Starport, staring at it. She was dressed in her official clothing, but had her old Confederate Navy uniform in a small bag in her right wingfist, her left wingfist holding tight to a datawafer containing her 'service history'.
There was a Confederate Military Recruiting Office inside.
Captain Cheekeet Longflight (ret, CivRes) stared at the starport. She had duties. The colony still needed her, would need her during these stressful times. Somehow she had morphed from a starship Captain without a starship to a colony Governor.
But she felt as if she had another duty too. A duty to wield a C+ Hammer in each wingfist.
She stood in the rain.
Conflicted.
Citizenship is a heavy burden.
Captain Cheekeet Longflight was a feathered avian, capable of flight in 1.5 standard gravity (which she had found out 1 standard gravity was .75G Earth), an Akltak considered to a be a neo-sapient UnUnified Species by the Galactic Council. She was an experienced ship pilot and colony environmental engineer.
For her, it had all started with the destruction of her colony by a Precursor war machine, a rescue by a human being who chose to live the life of a fictional character, then an invite by the Confederate Naval Forces (Fast Response) to battle the Precursor machines.
For three months she had been on the ship of Terran Admiral Yamamoto. She had learned how to use the gestalt targeting system to help the weapon targeting systems and virtual intelligences, how to wear the ship-board armored vacuum suit, how to use Terran shipboard systems, and learned a lot about Terrans themselves.
She had also taken part in nine fleet actions in ninety-three days. The speed at which they re-armed, refitted, repaired, and rejoined the action was nothing less than amazing to her. She'd seen a ship with a hole clear through it, held together by integrity fields, the crew's willpower, and wishes be repaired and rejoin the fleet in less than thirty days. She's heard ship Captains tearfully beg the Admiral not to send their ship to the breakers, that it 'just needed a little time in the repair docks' when it was everything but broken in half.
Cheekeet had been educated in the Unified Inner Worlds, learned to be a pilot, since her race naturally took to spaceflight, taught by the Unified Military Fleet to be a ship's Captain.
But she'd never imagined becoming that attached to a ship that the military had assigned to you.
But after an even one hundred days aboard the CNV Jesse L. Brown, a massive multi-role craft that even had parasite vessels it would launch to harry the enemy, she felt a longing sadness as she boarded the shuttle to take her to the surface of the planet.
She found herself turning her head around on her long neck to look behind her several times.
Before she had found it squat and ugly, two Terran 'miles' long, a half 'mile' thick, and shaped like a seed, it was covered in guns, armor, launch bays and tubes.
Now it was beautiful to her eyes, even with the craters in the armor and the damaged weapons and scanner arrays. She could see the sparkling of welders as the massive ship underwent repairs. The last battle, only a week ago, the Goliath's had targeted it as the flagship with their "Kill the Queen" philosophy.
The massive Terran war machine had taken the beating and pounded its opponents into scrap metal despite the size disparity.
She sighed as she rolled and landed feet first in the gravity of the station.
It amused her that she'd seen the ship arrive in orbit and then suddenly start to shift around parts of its superstructure and outside until a heavy looking armed space station had taken the ship's place.
"Mission Configurable Digital Sentience War Chassis" was how it was explained to her. She'd still needed it explained further and it was basically a self-aware sentient warship that could change its body's functions to carry out missions.
It still gave her a slight tail-feather tickle of nervousness that she was now inside the body of a literal artificial intelligence.
--Welcome to the CSF Jumping Jack-- appeared on her datalink to eye linkage. --Is there anything I can do for you, Captain Longflight?--
"Can you show me the way to Shuttle 612, please, Jack?" she subvocalized. That trick had taken a little while to master.
--Of course, Captain. Welcome home.-- Jack answered. He checked her vitals, compared them against what little he knew about her species. He wasn't a medical officer and having the files and knowing exactly how to use them were two different things. She looked calm, slightly distressed but more sadness than anything.
That was fairly common with combat sailors leaving the ship they'd engaged the enemy with.
Cheekeet saw the faint glowing line appear in her vision as if it was on the floor.
"Thank you, Jack," she said. She followed the line, which took her to a shuttle.
Unified Species shuttles were all carefully crafted to use the minimum amount of resources to allow the craft to be safe, shaped more like they were half melted, and had two sections, one for four legged and tailed species, one for two legged without tail species.
Terran craft had configurable seats of something called 'polymorphic frame and memory foam' that shifted to fit ergonomically no matter how one's limbs and torsos were arranged. The shuttles all looked like they were about to flown into combat. Heavy armor, crysteel forward window, multiple exits, rear engines, stubby wings with rotating jets. There were nullgrav and graviton systems, but something about Terran psychology made them prefer powered craft rather than the smooth feeling of counter-grav.
She sat down and waited for the seat to configure to her. It was obvious she was the first Akltak the seat or the shuttle had encountered since it took a few moments for it to adjust.
But when it did, it was almost as comfortable as her flag bridge crash couch.
In all fairness, that device had been given over a hundred days to achieve maximum comfort.
Other Akltak's boarded, all looking curiously at the shuttle. A ship from the Unified Outer Rim world the majority of her species lived on had docked, which was the whole reason she had left the CNV Jesse L. Brown while it underwent repairs.
The humans had taken the planet by force, wresting it away from the Precursors who had jumped in while Task Force Argo had been checking the system. When no claims against it were found the Admiral had offered it for sale to Cheekeet.
At first Cheekeet had been unsure she could afford it. No, she had known she couldn't afford it. But after the paperwork was filed, including volunteer service, survivor of a Precursor Extinction Attack, a Colony Destruction Survivor, and many other forms she had not only been able to afford to purchase the system from the Terran Colony Administration but had enough left in rebates to outfit the colony.
When she'd offered the Admiral permission to put Confederate Naval Stations in the system, he'd requested and gotten permission to have a Naval Forward Operations Base built.
Which was why the CNV Jesse L. Brown and over a dozen other ships were waiting for refit.
It's funny. I bought this colony nearly sixty days ago and already my people are arriving. Already buildings and support structures had been built. I bought this in the name of my species and now we're an 'allied joint defense planet' to the Confederacy, she thought.
She saw the Akltak who had just boarded look startled at how fast the seats adjusted to comfort. She felt hers adjust a slight bit more, feeling better, and knew the system was gathering data to ensure everyone was comfortable.
Soon the shuttle's seats were all full and the door closed. A hologram flickered, then looked like it solidified in front of everyone. Her fellow Akltak clacked their beaks and clicked their tongues in alarm. It looked like a Terran made of metal with the red markings of Terran medical associations on the sleeve cuffs and down one side of the front of the chrome jacket.
She barely managed to keep from snapping "AT EASE!" like a Terran military officer.
"Greetings, Gentlebeings, I am Dulcet-55817A, your pilot and shuttle for this landing. Later I will be your medical diagnostic digital sentience for your initial colony efforts. I will be joining your colony as a full Citizen, with approval of your colony board in ninety days. I look forward to getting us all safely to the ground and then assisting you in your medical needs," the hologram said. "Currently I am appearing as a hard light construct as my body is in the cargo hold with all of our luggage," the figure laughed. "It will be approximately forty-five minutes until we land. For those of you who wish to watch the landing from the cockpit, simply let me know and I'll have streamed directly to your implant."
Her fellow Akltak bobbed their heads and made clicking noises, somewhat surprised, when the hologram disappeared and the shuttle bumped slightly as it disconnected.
Cheekeet was tempted to watch the flight from the 'pilot view' which she knew would be eVR, but she afraid she'd try to side-seat pilot after three months of guiding VI's into enemy ships. Instead she chose to watch her fellow Akltak during the flight.
"Dulcet?" she subvocalized.
--Yes, Captain Longflight?-- the DS answered.
"Can you alert me to any of my fellow Akltaks who begin showing signs of distress?" she asked.
--Of course, Captain-- Dulcet replied.
She paid attention during the flight. Nobody got too distressed, although two chicks woke up hungry and were peeping for food. The parent was worried a few moments until Duclet offered a dropper full of food. The mother had been expecting nutripaste and was surprised that it was come kind of liquid that the chicks liked so much their peeping 'is good' woke up other chicks, all of whom wanted to try to the treat.
Dulcet informed her the mothers had asked what was in it after they had tasted it and found it very tasty. It was a synthetic nutri-gel that had been tailored specifically for the needs of Akltak chicks based on Dulcet's files.
The shuttle finally landed and everybeing got off, walking out onto the tarmac surprised by how professional and well put together it was. It used high temp plascrete for the ground, decorated at the edges to be pleasing. The concourse was comfortably open, decorated to appeal to Akltak cultural sensitivities, and was easy to move through.
The gravity was comfortable and twice Cheekeet saw the little chicks flap their wings, exercising and trying to get into the air. The air was sweet, despite the fact that Cheekeet knew that thirty days ago the planet had been completely untouched as the colony's first vehicles and machines had arrived.
"Momma! Look!" one of the younger moltlings cried out, pointing at the parking lot as Cheekeet waited for a vehicle to pick her up.
The shuttle was trembling and as she watched the shuttle suddenly bent in the middle. Around her Akltak gasped as it raised up, the engines retracted, and the shuttle walked away on two big legs.
Cheekeet could barely keep from laughing as her datalink updated from 'Dulcet - DS Shuttle' to 'Dulcet - DS Medical Clinic - In Transit' as she watched the gigantic robot walk away.
A car arrived, a Terran waving to her, pinging her implant. She put her luggage in the back storage container and got in the front next to the Terran, who here implant stated was "Trevor Howard, Colony Construction Administration - VERIFIED" when she looked at him.
"Welcome to your new home, Captain," the Terran said as he pulled out and headed down a ribbon of plascrete.
"Thank you, Terran," Cheekeet answered. She looked out the window at the fields of waving grass. "The starport looks very nice."
"Thank you. I selected the site myself. It's as close to the tree line as I dare get. I don't want a badly tuned drive to shake everyone's windows or disturb unhatched chicks," the Terran said.
During the drive she questioned him about the colony. How many Akltak had arrived. Nearly a quarter million in the last three weeks, most of them transferred by a Junker named Max-a-Millions who had reconfigured his ship for refugee and passenger carry. How did they handle the trip? They had found it quite comfortable. How had they reacted to the colony world? Very well. The few survivors from her old colony were having some troubles but they were responding well to psychotherapy. How long until the colony construction would be complete? Within a year.
The car pulled into the small unit that would be her house and the Terran bid her a good evening, saying that he would see her again when she was ready to assume her duties.
She went into the little dwelling, surprised at how comfortable it was. Perching stands, comfortable furniture, and she had to admit she had gotten a bit spoiled when she was glad to see that she had an eVR room and eVR with hard light projectors.
It was at least ten times the size of her berth on the CNV Jesse L. Brown and it felt strange to her. She realized only after eating her meal that she'd punched up the same thing she had eaten onboard the massive warship instead of looking at the rest of the menu. She sighed, had her implant put those recipes further down the list with a star on them, and went to bed.
She woke up, shuddering, after dreaming she was standing on the planet, a massive hammer in each winghand, pounding the colony into shards with C+ hammers.
--Do you need assistance, Captain?-- appeared on her retina along with Dulcet's ID.
"Just a nightmare, Dulcet," Cheekeet said.
--I have the therapeutic dream generator set up if you need it--
"That's all right. Thank you though."
--If you need my services, feel free to ping me even if I'm asleep--
"Digital Sentients sleep? I thought you didn't."
--We take the time to defrag our files, run algorythms to decide which memories go into long term slow access storage and which ones go into short term rapid access, do diagnostics on our interfaces, and many other things that would cause discomfort to perform while we are awake--
"Oh. That makes sense, I guess. What if there's an emergency?"
--If it can't be handled by the eVI's then I'm woken up. It takes me a minute or two to come to full awareness, but it doesn't adversely effect me for two long.--
"Before I go back to sleep, are there any problems?"
--A few cases of homesickness, a moltling bit her sister, and one of the humans fractured his leg betting he could jump from a higher distance than his Akltak room-mate. And your emergency, of course.--
"All right. Thank you. I'm going to try to go to sleep."
--Rest well, Captain. Oh, if you have trouble falling asleep, there's a program in your eVR called 'riding on the metro' that might help you if you run it sound and vibration only--
The call disconnected and Cheekeet laid there in the dark for almost an hour before getting up. She went through the eVR menu, found the program, turned off the smell, tactile, and visual, and ran it. There was the faint sound of an engine, a vibration of movement and energy, and the faint sense of distance receding.
She was asleep in minutes.
Two days later she had a visitor to her little house. When she answered the door a tall lean Terran stood there. His face was narrow, sharp looking, with intent eyes, his haircut seeming to be threatening somehow.
"Captain Cheekeet Longflight?" he asked.
For a split second Cheekeet had a vision of the human just suddenly stabbing her and walking away.
"Yes?" she asked carefully.
"I am Avery Dewey, of Dewey, Chetum & Howe, Legal Representation Firm," the man said.
Oh shit, a lawyer! she thought, wondering if she could shut the door, set her house on fire, and escape out the back door and into the woods before he could file any lawsuits against her.
The lawyer waited patiently for the Akltak female's panic to subside. He was a professional barrister with nearly five hundred years of work experience on his resume.
He was used to panic.
"Um, please come in," Cheekeet said, remembering you had to invite Terrans inside.
"Thank you. Do you prefer Captain, Captain Longflight, or Cheekeet?" the Terran asked, following her into the relaxation room.
"Cheekeet is fine," she said, settling down on a perching branch. The lawyer sat down and she noticed that it didn't bother to shift ergonomics, just remained looking uncomfortable.
"Very well, Cheekeet. I am here as your legal representative for your colony with the regards to the Unified Civilized Councils, et al, those Councils and legal bodies known and unknown, for the purpose of ensuring your colonist and species rights are upheld," the man said. His voice was even, no inflections, no accent, perfect Unified Standard.
Cheekeet just nodded.
"Currently your race has been emancipated, with the Unified Councils being forced to pay you reperations for involuntary servitude during your probationary period. Additionally, Johnson, Jackson, and Johnston are representing your species in a case of malicious colony assignment, which appears will be found for your species and against the Unified Colony Council," Dewey stated. "The Unified Council has demanded that your species leave your homeworld, but as the resources of your system have largely been extracted, your ecosystem and culture were largely destroyed by the Unified Colony Council and its agents, it has been determined that this will cause minimal species stress upon you."
From there it got more complicated. Her race was suing the Councils for over a hundred different reasons, right down to reparations for her entire system being strip mined for use by the Core Systems as well as the transportation costs her species to arrive at the system and the cost for colonization of the system.
The Terran Colony Administration had found that four of nearby systems contained planets optimum for her species and had assessed the cost of transfer of those systems to the Akltak people, then sued the Unified Colony Council for the balance of the systems and the projected cost of relocating her people and all their possessions and installing basic, to Confederate standards, colony facilities, with no deductions.
And won without the opportunity for appeal.
From the way Dewey made it sound, Lanaktallans hid behind potted plants or galloped away when they saw representatives of Johnson, Jackson, and Johnston anywhere nearby.
Her head whirled. Not one system, but five. More than her people had previously possessed.
The Terran Space Force wanted to put refit, rearming, and repair bases in her systems with mutual defense pacts. Corporations were vying for her people's artwork and cultural art forms.
A twenty year old Akltak had performed the ritual Dance of Sorrow of Summer's End in a home made costume, uploaded it to SolNet, and become massively wealthy as the video was download or watched over a hundred and twenty billion times. Apparently it was extremely popular with the Clone Worlds and the two avian species of the Confederacy.
As her people had volunteered for various duties the Terran Confederacy was willing to discuss treaties with her people.
When Dewey left Dulcet had contacted her and recommended a dust bath and a short flight to ease her tension.
The swooping and soaring of flight in the clear sweet air soothed her. Helped her think about the future.
The failure of her colony had threatened her people with corporate absorption. Before the Terran lawyers had stepped in nearly a hundred corporations had bid for her people's potential contracts. Chicks would have been born into slavery and debt.
Now, fierce primates who took joy in battle and challenge, had freed her people from the shackles that had been being rattled in front of the chicks.
She settled down on a branch, marveling at the trees. They towered hundreds of feet high, with thick spaced branches that were perfect for landing upon.
The colony was spread out before her. She could see the medical clinic that was Dulcet's body, a small metallic robot out front planting decorative plants. She could see her people at an open air market, moving around, talking to one another.
She watched for a while then flew home.
Over the next few weeks she dealt with Akltak who were afraid that this was all some kind of sick joke. That Terran soldiers were going to arrive and make them all slaves, or worse, eat them at any second. A moltling escaped and the panicked mother had to be soothed for the ten minutes before it was found watching Dulcet plant flowers. Several Akltak had panicked when they discovered that the massive structures outside the starport were self-aware super-tanks. She arranged for tours to meet the Terran pilot and the super-tank's Digital Sentience.
Cheekeet found herself buried in busywork.
A Confederate Navy Officer came by to give her several awards in a quiet, private ceremony in her office that was witnessed by Dulcet and, of all people, Dewey. She was asked if she wished to sign up for any Civilian Reserve status and be 'on the beach' to use the slang. She'd agreed, without really thinking of it.
Then came the news.
The Lanaktallan had attacked the Terran Confederacy. Not just any attack, but had struck directly at civilian planets without even any military presence in the system.
The word went out.
AN ATTACK UPON ONE OF US IS AN ATTACK ON US ALL
She found herself, one drizzling afternoon, staring at the Leekteek Memorial Starport, staring at it. She was dressed in her official clothing, but had her old Confederate Navy uniform in a small bag in her right wingfist, her left wingfist holding tight to a datawafer containing her 'service history'.
There was a Confederate Military Recruiting Office inside.
Captain Cheekeet Longflight (ret, CivRes) stared at the starport. She had duties. The colony still needed her, would need her during these stressful times. Somehow she had morphed from a starship Captain without a starship to a colony Governor.
But she felt as if she had another duty too. A duty to wield a C+ Hammer in each wingfist.
She stood in the rain.
Conflicted.
Citizenship is a heavy burden.
