Xeno Core

Ship-Father Tollek decides to do one more favor before taking his crew and heading off in search of the deathworld. During the three days it took for the Grand Matron to authorize and organize the personnel transfer, the Resurgent flies no less than eleven circuits between Kalibern and the outer dust cloud.

A misnomer really, as at that distance rocks the size of small islands appear no larger than motes of dust. Tollek hauls back netloads of carefully selected rocky debris, spending more time combing through the vast cloud than hauling resources.

Much of the mass collected will be piled on the surface, exposed to vacuum and awaiting future use. But for the metal ores extracted from the less immediately useful material a different use is found. The speed at which the metal is converted into structures only increases as more workers are given vaccuum suits and orders.

Interconnected tanks holding liquid enough to fill a lake sprout from the stone body of the base. Soon the tiny creatures within will grow large enough to be seen swimming through the clear panels set in the thick sides of the deep tanks. Aquatic mosses already cling to special racks built into the tops and sides, some showing evidence of nibbling from tiny mouths. Even the accelerated growth of the first generation thawed from trays of magitech design cannot make them a viable food source quickly enough to feed the hungry residents of the growing station.

Built directly below the storage tanks, the hydroponics grow rooms filled with young sprouts might be more helpful. Many of the plants selected were meant to be eaten as supplements to dried rations. Flavorful and holding a wide array of nutrients, the herbs growing around the station could keep a Selber crew alive for seasons. Tserri need a different set of nutrients, which while available are not growing in numbers needed to sustain a group as large as this.

Surprising amounts of the produce grown will be given to the sbah. Those creatures' numbers will take a hit soon, as fresh protein is hard to find, but eggs are already being laid in nests built by the colorful things. They aren't very bright, building their nests at the bases of the young trees, setting up small groups in clusters of fives and sixes. They often leave the nests unguarded or watched by only one hen as the rest slither around the space given them, eating many legged crawling creatures and scraps of produce.

Depositing their final load beside the downed wedge ship once known as Broken Leg Hop, Tollek flies his ship out to the edges of the system. Left behind are Dunc and Spen, standing at the base of the docking tower in their mark four vacuum armor.

A few other young recruits from Honus are also running around the interior, keeping systems running. The two junior officers watch as an armored transport shuttle docks through the thick clear panel set into the side of the structure. When the docking bay hisses open they already stand nearby, ready to great their new commanding officers.

The door slides open and the first to exit the shuttle is a figure heavily augmented by cybernetics, barely recognizable as Yosip Peal, who now wears a uniform of much higher quality. Behind him are a handful of thin gray beings, both officers and crewman, with large wooden crates of preserved rations, meant to sustain them for a long time.

"Yosip Peal! Reports from survivors of the invasion said you were dead," I exclaim, unable to help myself. "It is good to see they were wrong. Welcome aboard, sir!"

A minor malfunction in his facial servos causes his face to twist into a painful grimace before he can correct the problem. With a carefully neutral expression he looks up and says, "Mos Denn. How. Nice. It seems we'll be working together again."

"I see that you have been promoted. Could you tell me what rank your new uniform indicates? I must confess my ignorance," I say, hoping to politely flatter him by referencing his increased authority.

"Not that I blame you, but when we landed in the lake, I came down on an abandoned pleasure craft. It had been drifting for who knows how long, there's no way you could have aimed for it if you wanted. Anyway, it took my other arm and did this to my face. They found me floating in the wreckage days later." He walks down the corridor as he talks, mechanical legs clanking heavily as he does, looking at a map displayed on a tablet he carries. He and his officers head to the command center.

"The damage was enough to take me off active duty. No more skydiving in my future, I guess." He barks a short laugh. "I got stuffed into a desk up here, Supply-Master Peal." I understand his bitterness. When I was retired from the front lines I raged for days.

That isn't what he needs to hear now, though. I won't insult him by pretending he's not as good an officer as ever, either.

"That's unfortunate, Yosip. It really is. But that was the easy part. Anyone can get injured, and it's over fast. Your real fight just started, against something you can't just kill and move on from," I say. I display the lists on the main screen for him. Sympathy is not a trait my people practice, but I know intimately the horror of being taken away from active duty.

Yosip looks up, scanning the numbers before waving at one of his officers. "Find me Operative Wollen, he should know something about this mess we're in."

"Sir, a fight going on in the Broken Leg has left two dead and another three injured!" The news comes from the new comms operator, an especially tiny female officer. "What do you want to do about the instigators of the fight?"

He just shakes his head. "Let them go. They did us a favor, really. That's two less to feed and the troublemakers identified. Confiscate their weapons and anything else of value, fine them and let 'em go. Bill them for the injuries. Put the bodies in recycling, we can use the biomass."

An enlisted Tserri walks into the command center, wearing dark blue vacuum armor. "Sir, your rooms have been prepared. They're rather stark right at the moment, but I was asked by the engineers to let you know that they'll put together anything you need."

"That sounds good, actually. I need more space to move around than I used to," Yosip says with a bitter chuckle. "Have a team go through it, move anything important. Mount it to the ceiling and add a few more charging stations. This heavy rig sucks up power."

He goes back to looking at the resource reports, flipping between files rapidly.

"Well, I see the problem. We need a shuttle hangar." His announcement shocks the rest of the officers. "There isn't any way we'll be able to produce enough food to feed ourselves. Just isn't possible." He changes the displays to a view of available surface structures. "We'll have to buy what we need to keep going, trade things we can make or dig up for it. At least for now. And to do that we need to be able to load and unload small shuttles pretty much nonstop, without having to worry about atmosphere."

The assembled officers think it over while Yosip draws up plans. "We can convert the current landing field into a covered shuttle bay, it's already adjacent to the main building. Anything larger can use the docking arm. Speaking of, we also need to install a freight lift, to help unload any larger shipments we might recieve. Or send."

Third Operative Dunc Wollen enters the command deck. "You wanted to speak to me, sir?"

"That's right. First, I want you to tell me what you know about the Tserri. If you can't convince me that you're an expert, you'll be down there digging in the dirt until you can."

The young officer looks nervous but takes a deep breath. The awful yowling noises he produces do a passable job at imitating Tserri speech. I decline to translate it, but the crewmember nearby in the dark blue vacuum armor replies in the same language. "You tell him, kid!"

Looking between the two, Yosip nods his head once. "That'll do. Second. Find the toughest furballs you can, sign 'em up. Build me a team of bruisers. Eva should have some names for you to start with. Go on, dismissed."

Receiving the data file from Eva Chel, the petite officer at comms, Dunc rushes off, a contemplative look on his gray face.

Yosip turns and regards the small officer. "How long until the prison transport is due?"

"Tomorrow morning, some time, sir," she chirps in reply, a bright smile on her face.