Xeno Core

Uhgun squeezes the trigger and out comes a cone of annihilation, killing untold thousands. With another claw he wipes down the counter, removing the residue the spray bottle tends to leave behind.

Humming to himself in satisfaction at a job well done, Uhgun moves over to the next work space. Only Mar Lummer is on the command deck with him, keeping watch while the other officers rest.

"Medical school? That's expensive where I'm from," Lummer says in response to some remark from Uhgun.

"Education was not optional among the Tserri," replies the fur covered crewmember. "If the aptitude tests said you were to have a job, that was your job."

"And how were you assigned?" Mar continues questioning the Tserri who always seems to be assigned the janitorial duties.

He waves one of his upper arms casually. "I don't know what the equivalent is among your people, but I was chosen to preform major corrective procedures." He sprays and wipes down another workstation, leaving a pleasant smell in his wake.

"Rojer spent two years apprenticed to a Master Surgeon, and that after graduating from the academy," states the heavyset officer. "The Imperium would normally assign two medics to a ship this size, but well, we've never had a full compliment. Have you spoken to Jim?"

Uhgun smiles broadly, showing a mouth full of fanglike teeth. I don't think he means it as a threat however, as his next words sound quite cheerful.

"I have, thank you. Ship-Father Tollek was quite reasonable and accepted my requests without much difficulty."

The Supply-Chief looks confused by this happy announcement. He watches as the armored figure continues merrily cleaning vacant work stations, wiping down screens and keypads carefully.

"The Ship-Father was happy to allow me to choose my own role onboard, and it relieves the rest of the crew of duties they would rather not do," explains the furry crewmember patiently. "I don't like blood and would rather do anything else. Tonn is more than capable for daily medical needs. If he truly needs help, I am not unwilling to assist him."

"He let you pick your own job, and you chose janitor?" The Supply-Chief's suprise causes him to speak louder than his normal level.

He's answered by an elaborate Tserri shrug. "Vren was given the task of assigning our duties, so he didn't care. Besides, it's satisfying seeing the ship looking clean."

Mar agrees and the two walk together down to the mess hall. They pass crewmembers installing small parts, a tiny jet blower to help air circulation.

Several crewmembers are sitting in the cafeteria, trading gossip or swapping small items. They're greeted by jokes and cheerful laughter when they walk in.

"I'd noticed that our recent resupply had a lot more fresh meat than usual. We usually just get the preserved stuff," Mar says, picking up the conversation again once back in the kitchen. "I thought it was just Jim trying a new fad diet."

"We need a lot more meat than your people, so Vren got the Ship-Father to add a few things."

He was assigned cooking duties today. Clearly tired of the bland meatblocks, Mar busies himself in the kitchen. First he lights the grill and gets a wide pan warming up. While it heats he slices tough tubers into thin slices. They go into the pan with some oil while he works on the next vegetables. Small green fruits with bright yellow innards. He skins them and throws the soft insides in with the tubers.

Ughun enters the freezer and emerges with both sets of arms carrying assorted meats. These are placed on a chopping surface and processed by the Tserri, under Mar's direction. Some are added to the pan or a second that Mar places over the heat, others go directly onto the adjacent grill.

The striped Tserri tends to the grill, brushing a dark red sauce over the roasting cuts. Mar stirs the dish he's preparing, as well as frying strips of meat in another pan. A large bowl of fresh fruit and another of dried berries complete the breakfeast spread.

"What is this, anyway? It smells wonderful," Ughun asks, breathing deeply of the aromas carried by the rising steam.

"You're working with gau, mostly. That paler meat is gorcatcher. It really should be slow roasted, but if you slice it thin enough it gets crispy instead of tough when it cooks." The long thin slices of gorcatcher sizzle in their own fat. He pokes them with a pronged instrument, like a small bident, keeping them from sticking to the pan.

Uhgun is the first to fill his tray, with a long line stretching behind him. He takes over serving once he's eaten, giving Mar a chance to enjoy his food with the rest of the crew.

Washing up is faster with two, and they're soon free to relax for a while.

Others on board are starting their day off with aching heads.

"Mos Denn, turn down the lights in here, please," Tollek orders as he collapses heavily into the command chair. I comply and he lets out a relieved sigh.

"Progress report from Kalibern Station, sir," says a young crewmember, her eyes bright. "The latest expansion has been excavated and power lines are being installed even now. Tulson said to tell you the micro factory was making some odd noises, but other than that things are going nicely."

Beginning to form a reply, Tollek stops when he hears a gasp from the scanner operating station.

Kali looks up from her station in shock and begins tapping furiously. "Jim, we're detecting some odd signatures entering our range. They just passed the outer dust clouds. Putting it on the main screen, sir."

The image displayed is an overhead representation of the stellar neighborhood. The star, the planet and its moons, and far out the dust cloud that marks the edges of the system. Right inside the edge of the system, moving slowly by astronomical standards, are three wedge shaped vessels.

Information displayed next to it indicates that the engines are damaged, outputting energy with odd spikes and unstable patterns that seem to interfere with each other.

"They're transmitting a signal, sir," Kali reports loudly, eager to please, causing Tollek to wince painfully.

Jim motions for her to go ahead and she replaces the previous display with the orange furred face of a Tserri warrior. Their words are translated automatically by my systems. I clean up the static; their transmitters are in similar shape to their engines.

The figure takes a deep breath, discomfort evident in the way they hold themself. Sparks jump from damaged equipment in the background. Engineers work under dangerous conditions, trying to repair their badly wounded ship.

"Greetings, from the remnants of the Third War Fleet. We have many wounded aboard and our supplies are almost gone. We wish to surrender ourselves to you. We also deliver a warning. We encountered genocide drones on our way here." The message ends there, leaving the screen blank.

"Get Vren in here, and find Gel," Jim says as he heaves himself up. "Kali, you're in charge out here." Wiping his hand through the dark hair atop his head he turns and enters the war room to wait for his officers.

Kali delivers them a message, advising the Tserri battleships to dock with Kalibern Station. She then alerts the crew to be ready to handle potential trouble. If this is some kind of trick the odds are against us.

The station is still unarmed and would be an easy target, taking several of our best people out with no way for them to fight back.