Sovereign Ep. 01: Wreckage

Planet Sythir high orbit, Rithyr system, T'thyrin Merchant Republic border. 43000.35.183409.

A lone spaceship floats peacefully in orbit of this verdant and prosperous border world, with the speck of a huge orbital trading station visible just above its curvature. The ship seems ramshackle, as if it had been retrofitted numerous times from some standard-model freighter. The surface is curved for ease of atmospheric and hydrospheric travel, but it has very stubby, back-pointing wings. Its surface is pockmarked with modules and devices that seem to have been slapped-in, with little care for appearance.

Inside the ship, a crew member is working on something. It is somewhat cramped but with some wide chambers. Wires, power tools, parts and doodads are strewn merrily across the floor, as a tiny figure works on something, humming a tune.

It is a small, reptilian- or amphibian-like being with bright, splotched scales that are different shades of green, three pairs of thick, stubby limbs, and only a tiny stub for a tail. Its egg-shaped body and large head with stubby, conical horns are hunched over to the corner of a wall, installing a sort-of panel inside the ship.

It is a Kenneka, a diminutive but nimble reptilian race, that is known for their advanced technology, even when compared to most other member races of the Grand Federation. He has a pair of goggles on his head, and a jumpsuit that covers every part of his body, except for the head.

"Now, just one more four-cubit, titanium hexagonal washer and--"

"Hi there!"

"Blagh!!"

He flinches, stumbling and fumbling as he tries to catch the washer, only to lean too far back and crash backwards onto the floor; his four arms splayed wide, and the washer rolling across the floor somewhere. He looks up annoyed, to see the source of the voice -- a tall and young, cobra-like being with lemon yellow skin that is smooth and glossy. Her head is akin to an aquatic dinosaur with huge black eyes and bright, almost unnaturally saturated pink irises with fused dual-pupils. She has an overall soft but mischievous look, as she looks down to the lizard. It is a female T'thyrin, a semi-aquatic eel-like species hailing from a mercantile culture. Though independent, they are nonetheless close allies, or at least trading partners, with the rest of the Grand Federation.

"Good morning, sleepy-geek!" she chimes cheerily, blinking twice, "How'd you sleep?"

The Kenneka groans annoyedly as he gets up. "Tera, not this again! Do you have any idea how important this work is?! I've been up all night working on this flux capacitor upgrade, and am I appreciated for all my work? One simple mistake, one single electromagnetic misalignment and boom! our whole ship blows up in the middle of space!"

"I know, I know. The ship is your pride and joy, I get it." She slinks down from the ceiling and onto the floor. Even in her half-coiled state, she towers over her companion by more than twice his height. An outside observer might think she would easily swallow him alive. "But you shouldn't kill your brain cells by staying up all night. It's no wonder you're so grumpy a lot. Here, let me get you some wake-up juice and a nice breakfast."

She is about to slither away when she stops herself, noticing something beside her. "Oh, and..." she grabs it from the floor with her hand-fin on her tail tip and then places it on the Kenneka's palms, "...here's your washer."

She heads down the hall, leaving a dumbfounded and annoyed little lizard. He hates to admit it, but she has a point. He returns his attention to the wall to finish his work. He is almost done, anyway.

Tera slithers into the kitchen, a wide round table whose base is melded into the floor. There, a huge brown-skinned mammalian figure almost as tall as her, is cooking a meal atop a 'heatless' electromagnetic stove.

"Good morning, Condo."

"Hey," he says quietly, as he stirs something on a frying pan. "Hope you like flake-cakes 'cause that's what's on the menu."

"I'm all right with that." She stretches part of her body and head, "Did you happen to make the juice, by any chance?"

"You know where it is." Without losing his focus, he gestures to a tabletop dispenser with a selection of drinks chosen by the other crewmates. "Still got plenty o' mats as usual."

"Sure do." She grabs a cup from a dispenser on the side of the machine. Then, setting the cup below one of the spigots, she picks out a flavor on a selection and then presses the button. As the machine works itself, a hot, greenish liquid is poured into the cup, filling itself up within fifteen seconds. She takes the cup, takes a whiff of the concoction from her nostrils atop her head, and then takes a sip, coiling her serpentine body down on the chair. It is sessa, a hot tea brewed with seaweed that had been long produced by her kind long before they had even developed space travel.

Then, two more figures come down from the direction of the bridge. The duo is led by a huge, bulky, hunchbacked reptilian figure with a plated back and arms, whose frame almost touches the walls and ceiling of the hallway, and walks in steady and heavy footsteps on pillar-like legs. This is Captain Wrednott Vosk. He is a Tongukk, a warrior race that is famous (some would say infamous) throughout the galaxy.

The one behind him is almost as large as him, but has the appearance of a fleshy balloon with tentacles. This is Data Analyst Soh-va, a Yon-ma, who's a species native to a planet with a dense soupy atmosphere and moves with huge, natural gas bags filled with helium, methane and nitrogen. They are also one of the founding races of the Grand Federation known for their ability to process enormous amounts of data.

The lead figure speaks, "Tera. Condo. Status?"

"Culinary work close to prepped and ready, sir," Condo says cheerfully.

"Just hanging out and waiting for the grub to finish." Tera takes another sip of the tea. "How are you, Captain?"

"Oh, the usual." The translator on his body flashes and glows as he 'speaks.' "It is nothing different from the usual fare in daily interactions."

"Just woke up to some commotion back there," the Tongukka answered, before peering at Tera. "You haven't been scaring our engineer again, have you?"

"No...! Not intentionally. Just wanted to say hi and that he needed more sleep. Trekk has been working on that little part of the wall the whole time we were sleeping. Told him he needed some go-juice." She takes another sip.

"I see." He walks his way into the kitchen, allowing the Yon-ma entry to get his own drink. The Tongukka sits down. "Trekk is a dedicated man who takes passion in his work. You would do well to respect that."

"I know, Vosk, I do. But it's still not good for him to keep himself up like that. He's not gonna do as good a job if he--"

"Done!" That was Trekk's voice.

"Oh?" Vosk and the others turn their attention to him, who strides victoriously into the kitchen to meet the rest of the crew.

"You seem happy." Tera looks encouraged at him, leaning forward to listen. "Whatchya do?"

"One updated flux capacitor is ready for usage! I may have forfeited my good night's sleep, but it's all worth it for this baby!" He proudly displays the updated console, with the new capacitors neatly installed into the side of the old ship.

"Well, let's see it!" Tera was about to get up from her seat when Condo protested.

"Hey! You ain't gonna miss another meal today, ay ya? It's just about done!" He shuts off the stove and begins arranging the dishes. He is quite deft for his flabby appearance.

"Oh yeah, meal first." She coils back onto the stool. "Maybe you can talk about it while we eat?"

"That will be wise," Vosk says, as he turns to the table, "a good mind leads to a healthy body, the same can be said in reverse." He gestures Trekk to a chair in the dining room, and eyes as his fellow crewmates sit down accordingly.

Trekk sighs a bit, unhappily, "If you insist, Captain." He sets his new invention on a separate counter and then hops up onto a vacant stool.

As he arranges the dishes and divvies up the food, Condo turns to Soh-va, grabbing himself a drink, wrapping a cup with one of his long, tendril-like fingers, carefully sinking a proboscis into it.

"Hey, Soh-Va," Condo says, "you sure you don't want any hash-cakes?" He lifts up a pan to show a couple more of the items still sizzling.

"That is quite all right, Condo." He deftly grabs himself a cup, and fills it with his own drink. "I'll make myself some of my own, if you please."

This leaves Condo a little disgruntled. "Damn, you're more of a picky eater than some Skinnies. Fine, whatever suits your tastes."

"This is not pickiness, I assure you. It's called moderation. With how big you can get, you should be well aware of moderation."

"Pfeh!" Condo scoffs, "Well, you can 'moderate' while the rest of us get the good stuff. Grab your what's-it and find a seat, 'cause breakfast's done!" Without missing a beat, Condo arranges the dishes and deftly lays them down like a professional, revealing flat, warm crunchy cakes that have been gently browned in the pan.

"Woohoo! Bring on the grub! Thanks." Tera grabs herself a long knife-fork, cuts down a piece of hash-cake and begins eating.

The hash-cakes are essentially a type of fried, scrambled meat from invertebrate sea creatures native to planet Sythir that have been sliced and diced and fried in a seed oil. They are served with a savory greenish relish sauce based on sea plants there.

It isn't long before the rest of the crew begins eating, with Soh-va sitting in a specially designed seat for his unusual morphology, where he holds onto some bars while he eats and drinks from an elevated plate beneath him, where his beaked mouth is. Such are the quirks of evolution.

"So, Trekk?" Tera turned to the little engineer. "What were the changes made to the flux-capacitor thing?"

"Oh, it was basically just replacing old piping with new ones. I also attached an ionization monitor to aid in correcting the flow of electrons for our hydrogen fuel cells. That way, we will not have to deal with any sudden power surges or brownouts in that section of the ship."

While Trekk speaks, Soh-va brings up a holo-screen device displaying a list, scrolling down the entries with his remaining pair of tentacles (one other pair is for eating and the last pair for 'sitting.' The Yon-Ma are renowned multitaskers, thanks to their distributive brain structure.)

Tera goes silent a moment after Trek finishes speaking. "Sooo, it's basically a really roundabout way to fix the lights?"

"I-In a word... yes." He shifts nervously at the comment. He adds, "But not just internal lighting, mind you. It's also fuel efficiency, power flow, and basically every aspect of the ship. Do you want the lights to flicker out, or our ship to suddenly stop, or worse, go too fast and let our engines short-circuit, stranding us all in the middle of interstellar space?"

"Mmmnnnn... no?"

"Ahh, ahh?" Trekk is happy, tapping proudly at his temple. "Now you know but a simple aspect of Kennaka genius. You should learn these things when you fly out some day, you know, young minnow?"

"Hey, I was the biggest of the clutch!" She defends herself teasingly, "I won first place in a hundred-megacubit sprint-swim contest back at secondary school! Got a good scholarship out of it, too."

Condo laughs out loud. "That's great, miss. You can swim really fast, but have you ever power-lifted a truck? Had to do that every day back in Noromor."

"Aww that? I can lift your Mondo-trucks with one arm." Vosk takes a sip of his drink, a pleasantly hot, dark sludge. He continues, "Try tugging a solid block of granite as big as this room. I used to push that thing by myself back in my younger days. I can tell you all about it."

"Oh? Care to share that with us, O Cap'n?"

Vosk tells his story. "When I was a young buck of fifteen, I worked for a mining company in the rings of Vandak II. There was an issue with the hauling machines, so my boys and I went into the tunnel and..."

As the two are bantering, Soh-Va continues sifting through the entries in the holo-screen, when something catches his attention -- and his alarm.

"Captain?"

"...so then I came down to the shaft and--" Vosk pauses mid-sentence and turns to the living gasbag. "What is it, Analyst?"

He gestures to the screen on the datapad, which Captain Vosk examines briefly, as his eyes dart through the text.

Soh-va explains, "I have just spotted a Help Wanted signal from planet Shingotwan."

"Shingotwan?" Tera raises her head up after finishing the last of her tea. "You mean the homeworld of those beaked blokes who like to fight over silly things? I come across them all the time back on the surface."

"Those would be the Namricae, correct?" adds Trekk.

"Correct," Soh-va answers. "According to this entry, it has something to do with recovering salvage from a lost cargo ship. The sender has promised a reward for recovery."

"...We're near their home sector, right?" Trekk asks. "It just sounds like a simple mission to start the day."

"Actually, yes, conveniently. Their system is not even eight parsecs away and is frequented by traders from all across this region, including here in the Merchant Republic."

"Sounds like something we can handle." Vosk seems optimistic. "Isn't that right, team?"

"I'm game!" Trekk quips.

"On your orders, captain!" Soh-va says.

"I'm up for it!" Tera nods, happily.

"Just say the word, cap'n!" Condo salutes with his back straight. "...After we buzz up and finish our breakfast."

"Very well," Vosk sits back down to finish eating.

After a single hyperspace jump, the ship, the Sovereign, zips from a distant star in a rapid flash and arrives within the Namrican home system, where a single habitable world lies in front.

There, a single large space station lies in orbit in one of Shingotwan's LaGrange points between it and its sole moon. Hundreds of ships with multiple designs line up in various entry ports into the station from different polities across the galaxy. Most notable are the famously flamboyant merchant ships of the T'thyrin, with their bright, ostentatious colors and sleek, flowing designs to flaunt their status and, in the case of coloration and patterns, to show the merchant family owning it.

"Captain," says Soh-va, "we have now entered the Namrican home system, in orbit of Shingotwan. We should come into contact with local space security before escorting to nearest space station."

"Ordering clearance, got it. Doesn't help that we're not an organization, but we should get clearance as private citizens of--"

Then their ship receives a signal from the station, audio only.

"Attention! Namrica Security to Sovereign-24413! Namrica Security to Sovereign-24413. You have entered the perimeters of Grand Unity Orbital. Give clearance for proper entry. Over."

"Soh-va?"

"One moment." Soh-va clears his throat and then responds, "This is Sovereign-24413 to Namrica System Security. We request landing clearance to Grant Unity Orbital. Over."

They wait a few seconds for a response.

"Your ship is not in the registry," Security says flatly. "We can only give you limited clearance. If you want full clearance, state your business. Over."

"They don't seem satisfied," Soh-va observes with a hint of frustration. "It seems more information will be needed." He then speaks into the communicator again. "We are private citizens from the Planet Sythir. We are here to visit a person for a 'Help Wanted' signal located within this station. For this reason, we request clearance. Over."

Another pause.

"Hmm... one of those guys, ehh? Standby. One moment. Over."

A longer pause, enough to make the less patient crewmen anxious.

Then came a response, "We have uncovered documentation. You are from... Sythir, correct? Over."

"That is correct, sir. Over," Soh-va answers.

"That lies in the Mutual Exchange Zone. You guys are out on the border. You say you're there for visitation? Over."

"Visitation, yes. We only need enough time to visit someone and carry out their needs. Over."

"Name of the individual in question? Over?"

At this point, Tera is getting impatient. "This is bloody taking a while, isn't it?"

"Shh!" Trekk shushes her.

"You shh!" she counters, annoyed.

Trekk just shrugs.

Soh-va continues, "Standby. Over." He turns away from the communicator to look over the datapad. "Now let's see here..."

He quickly consults his holo-screen for the mission in mind. It doesn't take long for him to find what he is looking for.

"Ahh! There it is!" He turns to the communicator again. "Sovereign again. The client in question is Memek Imekba Hara, Planetary Secretary of Commerce. Over."

"Ahh, him! That must be important. You are clear for landing for ten local days. We will escort you into the station, but note, we will be monitoring you en route to the station. Over."

"Understood, thank you. Over."

"Very good. We're pleased to receive you, Sovereign. We could use some good people in this day and age. Over and out." The audio cuts off and a pair of security vehicles move toward the Sovereign, flanking them and then escorting them toward the station.

It is then when Tera speaks again, "Soh-va, why do we have to say 'over' over and over again? Isn't that rather redundant?"

"When interacting with other cultures, you must do the part." Then he relays to the rest of the crew, "We have a ten-day clearance. That should be more than enough time to accept and undergo the mission."

"Good work, Soh-va," Vosk says, pleased. "Let's see what Secretary Hara wants us to do."

The ship soon docks with the space station, with firm metal arms clamping down on the exterior as the airlock depressurizes inside. A few lightly-armed personnel eye the crew, as they step out to greet their client. One by one, the crew step out of the ship and set foot inside the station, where they are screened by local station police for any illegal drugs, weapons and contraband. The security here is tight, no thanks to the presence of smugglers, pirates and other unsavory elements in this sector.

The crew are carefully escorted to a small meeting room, hidden from the public. Within it, rows of different seats surround an oval-shaped table, along with some basic refreshments.

"Well, I'll say this is might fancy." Tera looks around impressed.

"Why, thank you kindly."

The crew turns to the voice to see a well-dressed male Namicran, whose gleaming, black quill-feathers and three pairs of grey-white eyes shine against his slender avian head, befitting of the birdlike build of his species. Only one other person, another Namicran, sits beside him.

"So," Captain Vosk states, "you must be Secretary Hara?"

"Memek Imekba Hara, Planetary Secretary of Commerce of the Shingotwan Joint Governance, in the flesh. Please, have a seat."

The five Sovereigns sit at the table, gratefully taking in the refreshments.

"So," the Secretary also takes a seat, "if I can have your names?"

One by one, the crew members introduce themselves, with the Captain speaking first. "I am Wrednott Vosk, Captain of the Sythiran Sovereigns."

"I am Soh-Va Yem-Au, the Analyst, Interspecies Relations specialist and Communications Manager of our ship."

"Me? I am Mek Vek Trekk, engineer, science expert, repairman, and overall nerd, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I'm Tera tor Senar, pilot, assistant engineer and shooting expert."

"I am Comacho Condo, assistant muscle and expert cook."

The Secretary is satisfied. "Well," he clasps his hands together, "it is a pleasure to meet you all. So, now that we are all acquainted, I think now is the time we got into the intricate details of this operation."