fDay: 2

Year of event: 22+ 10^(10.1395)

Notes: n/a

“Cassie wake up.” Dorothy said with a tired voice as soon as the airlock doors closed behind her.

“Howdy pumpkin?” A familiar voice replied. “Gimme a sec, will you, I need to read my old logs, and you know how slow of a reader I am, right?”

Dorothy nodded dismissively. She had not realised how much energy it took to put up with strange aliens and lie about her past, until she was out of that situation. The technician put the thick envelope she’d been given by the nameless Gromlind by the 3D printer, and began tweaking the device’s settings to turn it into a scanner. When that was done, she pulled out a plastic card from the envelope which she was told was a B-ID substitute. When Dot lifted it to a light source, she could just about make out an engraved picture of a woman who looked vaguely like her, and the name “Amanda Scott” written beside it.

“Well she’s probably dead, or worse.” Dot muttered.

She then put the B-ID into the scanner, and headed towards the med-bay. She still hadn’t forgotten about that disgusting metal box she yanked out of that thug’s neck. She hopped onto the med-bed, and manually entered a code into a side panel for a full-body scan. The scan only took a few seconds, and did not find any significant traces of exogenic materials.

“That can’t be right.” Dot muttered.

“Let me help captain.” Cassie chipped in. “What exactly are you looking for? I can narrow down the range of the scanner.”

“This will sound weird, but I pulled a small metal box with potential bio-extensions from a man’s neck. I thought some of the bio-extension tendrils, or whatever they were, might have stuck to my hand. But it looks like they didn’t. Or I hope so at least.” Dorothy explained.

A small box popped down from the wall behind Dot. It slowly filled with a gel-like liquid.

“Put your hand in there hun, and I’ll see what I can do.” Cassie said. “Oh, and there’s some anti-bacterial cauterising spray in that drawer on your left-hand side.”

“Yes, I’ll get to it in a minute.” Dot nodded. “Did you get the B-ID scan?”

“Sure did. I’m gonna need you to read out some of the numbers on the other papers for me captain, but with just the B-ID our chances of blending in in case of a random encounter have increased significantly.” The AI replied with a cheerful voice.

“Right.” Dot’s own voice wasn’t as cheerful.

She was beginning to wonder if going the long way round would have been a smarter decision. She was getting worried that they would leave a trail behind. In an ideal world, they would take off, and fly at sub-optimum speed all the way to Gaia. But after spending half a day aboard this Onshore station, Dorothy was beginning to wonder if she hadn’t underestimated their resourcefulness and ability to cause disturbances.

“Cassie, while you’re at it, I want you to run a software diagnostic every 12 hours, and do a RAM refresh every 24 hours.” Dot said. She couldn’t eliminate every external uncertainty, so she focused on what she had control over.

“Sir, yes, mam.” Cassie agreed. “You can take your hand out now. I’ll run some tests, and depending on how much material you’ve got on those unwashed hands of yours, and how much useful stuff there is in my database, you’ll be set in a few hours or a few days.”

Dot nodded and got up from the bed. Her next stop was the shower, then the kitchen (and its dehydrated peach soup), then the control deck.

“Are we ready for takeoff?” Dot asked, once she finished reading aloud the documents she’d received.

She had asked Cassie to display what she was doing with the information, but truth be told, the technician couldn’t make out much from the lines of code, and bureaucratic forms Cassie was filling in.

“Aye aye, mam. Would you like to see a 3D rendering of the animation I’m about to display for our takeoff?”

Dot smirked. She had not seen said rendering of the hologram buffer yet, but she was sure it was something comically impractical. The Onshore version of Cassie had two pairs of thrusters, only one of which was mobile from the looks of it, and even then, it only had about 90° of movement in the Cartesian plane, and only about a third of that on the z-axis. How Onshore ships navigated asteroid fields and dark matter clusters with that pathetic range of movement was a mystery to the woman.

The technician suddenly remembered the annoying flight-control operator she’d talked with.

“You told the station we’re leaving, right?” Dorothy asked.

“Come on, why do you think so little of me?” Cassie sounded almost offended. “Unlike some Humans, I can multitask. I can run biopsy analyses, talk to you, sweetheart, and send messages to the handsome boys down there.”

Dorothy raised a hand in front of her mouth, thinking about whether to push this issue forward or not. She wasn’t quite ready to trust the AI, after the whole ‘diplomatic passport’ situation she hadn’t been made aware of.

“Cassie, show me the logs real quick.”

“Fiiine. But just because you asked me nicely.”

The display projections shifted about, making space for a written transcript of the communications between Cassie and the station. The wall of text began slowly scrolling upwards. Dorothy failed to hide her surprise at the complexity of the exchange. There were numbers, citations, and made up lists of cargo contents on end. Dot was actually quite surprised, now that she thought back to it, that her landing had gone as smoothly as it had, if that was the paperwork that had gone into it. She was about to ask Cassie about it, when she heard a noise coming from the corridor behind her.

“What did you drop?” Dot asked.

The ship’s construction was very linear and straight, due to the spatial constraints of the dual engine and cloaking device. This meant that something had either fallen down in the kitchen (which was built into the side of the main corridor) or the medical area. Neither possibility seemed very likely since most surfaces were magnetic, and the ship was at a full stop.

“Nothing.” Cassie answered.

Dorothy spun around to look into the hallway. If an AI could sound guilty, it would have sounded just as Cassie did right now.

But there was nothing amiss. No pens, straws, or anything else rolling down the corridor.

“Cassie.” Dorothy returned her attention to the screen. “If there’s something broken, you better tell me now. I don’t want to be stuck in dead space with no engines and/or cloaking. Alright?”

“You’re talking to me as if I’m a child who needs to go to the bathroom before a long trip. All systems are functioning normal captain. There are no mechanical errors. Look.”

To prove her point, Cassie displayed a series of data screens, some showing moving trendlines, others depicting crude representations of the cooling engines, with information overlayed on top.

Dorothy waved a hand in the air. Something must have fallen somewhere, and she noted to be extra careful when she’d go to the back of the ship.

“Alright. Let’s get going then.”

“Mam’ yes sir.”

A loud banging noise echoed through the narrow ship. It was the unmistakable sound of a cryogenic chamber falling over. With all the excitement these past few days, Dorothy had never bothered to attach it properly. Although it was definitely stable enough not to fall over on its own.

“Cassie what did you do?” Dot got up from the piloting chair to check the med-bay.

“Nothing captain, I swear-”

Cassie stopped talking as soon as she realised that she could no longer make any excuses. The technician had made her way up to the med-bay and stood speechless in the doorway. She raised a hand, as if to gesture to Cassie to explain, but never outright said it.

“Did that creepy bird guy with the sunglasses send you?” Dorothy asked, when she finally managed to regain her composure.

She was standing face to face with some sort of alien she’d never seen before. This one had four arms and an insect-like face. Definitely nothing Dorothy had seed on the station, and definitely not someone who should have been able to get on her ship.

“Wow captain, you were gone for what, five-six hours, and you already managed to make enemies.” Cassie replied, in a teasingly upbeat tone.

Dot shook her head. Seeing how the alien hadn’t replied, she assumed they likely weren’t affiliated with that Gromlind.

“If you’re not with him, then who are you?” Dorothy asked.

“I am not a threat.” The alien said. They folded several of their arms over their chest and bowed, as if to hammer home that idea.

“Right, but who are you?” Dorothy asked again, dissatisfied with the answer.

The fact that there was literally nothing she could do if this alien suddenly decided to attack her only aggravated the matter. There were no weapons aboard Cassie, if you didn’t count the reusable straws in the kitchen, and the encounter with that thug on the station made Dot lose all confidence in her already mediocre fighting skills. This meant that dialogue and diplomacy were once again the only option.

Since neither the alien nor Cassie were saying anything, Dorothy spoke once again:

“Well, that’s fine, just put the cryogenic chamber back, and I’ll show you out. The airlock is right around the corner, it’s hard to miss.”

The only sign that the alien had heard Dorothy’s words was a twitch of their mandibles, before they bent down and easily lifted the chamber.

Dorothy stepped out of the doorway, and gestured towards the door, trying to maintain a calm expression.

“I have this.” The alien suddenly spoke.

They extended a four-fingered hand towards the woman. Inside their palm, laid a large rectangular metal pin. Its dark surface was engraved with a stylized drawing of a rocket, underneath which four stars, made of a matte material, slightly protruded from the pin’s surface. This was unmistakably the type of ornament deep space explorers wore during official ceremonies.

“Where did you get that?” Dorothy asked, as she extended a hand to get it.

Each pin was engraved with a unique number, making it easy to identify its owner. Although a non-ceremonial version of these pins also existed, for those who wanted to dress a little fancier than the masses, the serial number on the official ones always started with 0000 and could be easily traced to whatever forgetful pilot or crewman that had misplaced it.

The alien quickly retracted their hand, unwilling to part with the possession.

“I didn’t steal it.” The alien said, still clenching the pin.

“I’m not saying you did. I’m asking where you got it from.” Dorothy said, with a trace of annoyance in her voice. “Cassie, is it a real one?” She asked.

“Sure is captain. One of them old ones with the chips even. Do you think I would just let anyone on board?” The AI joyfully replied.

“Well I don’t know Cassie, it sure seems like it!” Dorothy snapped as she threw her hands up in the air. She then took a deep breath to calm herself. “Do you know what it is at least?” the technician turned her attention back to the alien.

After a few seconds of silence, they shook their head.

“It’s a ceremonial piece of jewellery belonging to none other than the great Captain Alice Selezneva, who went missing along her crew during a deep-space expedition some centuries ago.” Cassie intervened.

“Great. Fucking great.” Dorothy swore at the AI.

She opened her mouth to express the full extent of her frustration with the underperforming Artificial Intelligence, but quickly closed it shut, and bit down her lower lip. Instead, she began pacing down the narrow corridor, to let out her frustration.

“You shouldn’t be so nervous love, this is a great discovery.” Cassie chipped in cheerfully.

Dorothy bit down her lip harder, she wished the AI would just shut it, like the alien did, at least long enough for her to process everything.

They should have gone the long route, she suddenly realised. It would have been so much simpler. No Onshore hooligans to deal with, no aliens aboard her ship. It would have been a done and over with affair. But no, she just had to take the shorter route, she just had to disembark, and it all spiralled down from there.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Cassie asked.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking.” Dot replied, with a sour tone.

Her mind was beginning to buzz with ideas as to what to do with the alien. They’d seen too much at this point, so kicking them out would amount to nothing. Plus, Dorothy wasn’t all that confident in her ability to kick out someone twice her size and with twice the number of limbs.

“I’m thinking we should have reported the OG incident to the ETCH and turned back.” Cassie joyfully said.

“Are you shitting me?” Dot snapped again. All this time, she tried to keep at bay any thoughts about Cassie purposefully orchestrating this whole fiasco, because the AI shouldn’t have been physically capable of that. But Dot didn’t know much about coding, so it wasn’t as if she could check for herself. And instances like these only made her doubt the true intentions of her ship. “Cassie, did you orchestrate this whole thing just to prove a point about following protocol?” Dorothy exclaimed.

“No.”

“Then explain, how by all the dead stars in the universe, there is an alien on my ship! Whom I did not authorize to board? From the Onshore!”

“I’m not sure which one you have the most issue with mam’.” Cassie avoided the question.

“The Off- the Onshore!” Dorothy almost yelled back.

“Oh really? Not the fact that a megastructure nine hundred and seventy-four times bigger than your home planet went missing? I am just saying, maybe now would be a good time to reexamine your personal biases.”

“No.” Dorothy realised. “Now would be a good time to get on with our mission.”

She turned back to the med-bay, where the alien still hadn’t moved an inch in the direction of the airlock.

“I’m assuming you have no plans on leaving then?” Dorothy asked, as she slumped against a corridor wall, arms crossed in annoyance.

“No mam’.” The alien replied, no doubt picking up on Cassie’s mannerisms.

“Right, well, umm…” Dot nodded before trailing off. She wasn’t sure how to go about all this. There was too much cross-contamination between the two Shores that had already occurred. And there was the question of protocols. The technician was certain that if there had been one prohibiting the entry of Onshores onto the ship, Cassie would not have let them in, deep-space badge or no deep-space badge. “Well can you at least tell me why you decided to stowaway on my ship?” Dorothy asked with a hint of despair in her voice.

“The-” They paused “I saw lights and I came in mam’.”

Dorothy's lips twitched in an expression of disbelief, but quickly returned to their neutral position.

“I’ll let you stay on one condition.”

The alien nodded, and crossed their arms over their chest again. Dorothy took it as a sign to continue.

“You need to prove to me that you’re not affiliated with the Gromlind with sunglasses, the local police or Lozzo. And before you tell me that you don’t know who any of them are, I don’t think you’d be on my ship if that were true.”

The second part of that statement was unsurprisingly a lie. But Dot needed at least some sense of comfort, if she were to be stuck with this alien on a tiny ship. The alien’s tails, which Dot just noticed they had two of, gently hit against the side of the cryogenic chamber. That was surely a tell of some sort, but Dot could not decipher it.

“I have no way of proving that.” The alien said after a short moment of silence.

The woman nodded. That was a sensible enough response. It didn’t explain much, but on the other hand, the alien didn’t have anything on their person, not even clothes, other than the badge which they carried in their hand, that could be used as proof.

“Alright. That’s good enough for me.” Dorothy said, and gestured for the alien to follow her to the command deck.

“If I may,” the alien intervened, without taking a single step.

Dorothy turned around and nodded.

“You seem very trusting for a Human.” The alien said. “Why didn’t you-” They cut themselves short.

After another short moment of silence, Dot realised the alien wasn’t going to say anything further, probably not to give her ideas as to how Onshores typically behaved in this kind of situation. She briefly considered coming up with some new far fetched story as to why she acted the way she did, but she was interrupted by a joyful Texan voice.

“That’s true,” Cassie chipped in, “Our captain was described as friendly, compassionate and goal-oriented in her last mission report.”

“Because I’m working off the assumption that if you wanted to kill or hurt me, we wouldn’t be having this talk.” Dot replied once Cassie finished her pitch. “Honestly, I’d rather not have you on my ship. I won’t deny that. But, I, personally, don’t really want to go back there,” She nodded towards the airlock, “Your reasons might be different than mine, but I think you can relate to the sentiment.”

The alien slowly nodded, as if repeating a gesture that wasn’t quite their own. They were about to say something else, when Cassie interrupted them.

“Dot, incoming transmission priority 7. Should I broadcast it?”

“Yes!”

Dot dashed to the command deck, briefly forgetting about the unwanted passenger.

“Is it for us specifically?”

“To any ship in range. We are the closest.” Cassie explained.

“Come on,” Dot gestured at the screen, “Broadcast it.”

“I can’t. The walls are too thick.”

Dot shook her head in confusion.

“The station is acting as a buffer, hun.”

“Then get us out of here, stat. You said we were set to go. Come on! And record what you can, in case it’s not looped.” Dot ordered.

“On it Miss Sanders.”

Notes:

Interestingly enough, we do indeed not have any protocols for “first contact” with the Offshore. I’m sure my colleague from the ETHC will explain it in more academic terms, but it boils down to the fact that if you decide to go against common sense and interact with aliens, you should kind of deal with the consequences of that yourself.

When it comes to contact with xeno-lifeforms (which I only refer to as such to play into my colleague’s request for academic language), the same societal laws that apply to your station or planetary outpost also apply in that situation. We do heavily discourage contact with these aliens, to avoid cultural cross-contamination (for more details refer to the betta-sigma protocol). As a great philosopher once put it “we can treat the disease of the skin, but we cannot treat the disease of the mind”, and as you have seen from the previous entries of this report, Onshores are just a tad behind us in terms of many things, but mainly social structures and dynamics.

Schools of philosophy still hold diatonically opposed opinions on the innate nature of man (good or evil), but most do agree that the desire for power and wealth can be gained through exposure to certain cultures. A person with the mindset of an Onshore, and the technological access of an Offshore could be mistaken for a god by developing worlds (such as ones that have yet to discover interstellar travel).

This is why all our xeno- and anthropologists, as well as any other personnel that intends to spend prolonged periods of time Onshore needs to undergo extended psychological evaluations. Their culture is meant to be observed and appreciated, not absorbed.

Current year: 22+e^(23.347)

Redactor signature: E.E. Shwartz (apologies for my absence last week)