First Contact

The Detainee is in the details. - Lanaktallan saying

Vuxten suppressed an urge to look at the clock. The meeting had been going on for hours.

Nitpicking over this detail. Quibbling over that detail. Clarification on this point. Expansion on that point. He had been pressed and examined and found he remembered details that he had forgotten about.

Twice the meeting had adjourned briefly so that a Mental Health Technician could examine him as well as for his stress metrics to drop.

It had taken a break for lunch and then dinner.

"At what point did you realize that 'The Detainee' was suffering neurological defects, preventing them from operating according to the plan?" The Admiral asked.

Vuxten closed his eyes. "I was alerted over the comlink that the Detainee was incapacitated between two waves of phasic shades."

The Admiral ruffled the smartsheets. "What, in your knowledge before or after the incident, was causing the incapacitation?"

Without opening his eyes Vuxten answered. "She called it 'being too thin'. She was operating multiple bodies with one controlling mind. At the time I believe she was controlling at least four other bodies. The stress upon her cerebral and neurological systems was causing cascading microstrokes."

The Admiral nodded, jotting a note. "And who informed you of the mechanism of the problem?"

"Vat Grown Luke," Vuxten said.

"In his capacity as Vat Grown Luke or as Legion?" a General asked.

"Legion, sir," Vuxten said.

The Admiral nodded, sighing slowly. "I would like a clarification on the events surrounding the defense of the Digital Omnimessiah upon the unknown planet. Could you start with who alerted you to the danger to the Digital Omnimessiah and then the events, as they occurred, to the best of your memory?"

The lawyer leaned over and whispered in Vuxten's ears. Vuxten nodded.

"I would like it entered into the record that my client suffered a severe concussion induced traumatic brain injury in the fight when my client was hit the head by a glancing shot from what was identified as a Novastar Mark Two rail gun in the 66mm range," the lawyer stated.

"So noted," the Admiral said, giving another sigh. He jotted a few lines, the flicked the sheet to Vuxten's lawyer, who looked it over, signed it, and flicked it back.

Vuxten went through the entire desperate fight. During the discussion he was asked to clarify the area, including building a holographic representation of the area by putting terrain features as best as he could remember, then show how he moved in a time-lapse.

At 2100 the meeting broke.

The next morning at 0800 he was right back there.

More questions. More clarification.

Break for lunch.

Even more questions.

The Admiral kept going over different points, skipping around in the timeline. By dinner Vuxten was wearing a Mental Health monitor and the Board of Inquiry had been instructed to allow him a ten minute break every hour.

The questioning continued.

At one time, Vuxten was standing in front of the board, staring at the recreation of the area outside of the primary control room. How Trucker was down. How he and Menhit had been alone outside, holding off the Enraged Terrans. How Casey had moved to engage the Council of Eternity and met with four clones.

" Is it your opinion that General Trucker ordered Lance Corporal Casey to terminate his biological functions?" a General asked.

The lawyer whispered in Vuxten's ear.

"At the time, the situation was desperate," Vuxten started.

The Admiral nodded. "That much is clear from the statements we have gathered," he said. He sighed. "The record will show that at that time, the opinion of the elements engaged in combat and in combat operational analysis had determined that situation had entered the 'desperate' categorization."

The lawyer nodded as the Admiral scribbled on the smartsheet and flicked the data to the lawyer. The lawyer read it over, made two adjustments, and flicked it back. The Admiral examined it, sighed, and flicked it back to the lawyer, who examined it, signed it, and finally tossed it back.

"I served under General Trucker during several operations," Vuxten said.

"Let the unofficial record reflect Major Vuxten's experience with General Trucker and Third Armor Division," the Admiral sighed.

Again with flicking the contents of the smartsheet back and forth.

"I knew to trust his instincts. Technical Specialist Peel had her hands full coordinating the defense of Hell and the final assault on Heaven. General Trucker had Casey terminate his biological functions so that his SUDS would load into the Catastrophic Event Recovery System rather than the normal SUDS queue, so that he could lead the defense of Hell," Vuxten said. "At that time Legion was engaged in air, land, space combat within the layered Dyson Sphere as well as the defense of Hell, and was at his limit."

The gathered staff officers all nodded.

"As it was explained to me by Marco AKA Chromium Saint Peter, by having Casey quote murder unquote him, it would move him directly to the catastrophic traumatic even recovery rather than the normal queue, which was overloaded at that time," Vuxten said.

The Admiral looked down. "Why was the defense of Hell so important, Major? Will you describe, again, what made that defense so critical that General Trucker felt it was worth his life and removing his expertise and skill from the battle within the SUDS sphere?" He sighed. "In detail, please."

"Sam-UL had attempted to blackmail the Detainee and the rest of us to retreat by threatening to delete every SUDS record in the processing queue. Marco had applied a patch to redirect any attempt at deletion to Hell," Vuxten said.

"Define 'Hell' again, please," A General said.

"Hell is what we called the Traumatic Life Cessation Event Processing System," Vuxten said.

"Thank you, Major," the General said.

"As I was saying, when Sam-UL tried to blackmail the Detainee, she voluntarily flushed the queue to Hell rather than allow Sam-UL to hold the trillions inside hostage," Vuxten said.

"In your opinion, formed at the time or after the fact, do you believe that Sam-UL had considered the chance the Detainee would take that course of action?" another Admiral asked.

The lawyer whispered in Vuxten's ear.

"I believe, personally, at the time and now, that a small part of Sam-UL that was still sane, that was not a Screaming One, wanted the Detainee to take the exact action she did," Vuxten said.

Vice Admiral (Lower Decks) Prawlgrath looked at the smartsheet in front of him. "Can you repeat what you know of the Detainee's origins?"

Vuxten looked at him. "I don't know anything about her, except she's a Terran," he stated.

The Admiral sighed. "Tell us what you know," he said.

"She's Terran. Female," he closed his eyes. "She has grey eyes that remind me of the color of iron that are more expressive than anything else on her face. She appears to be of middle age, slightly heavy, large mammaries, thick thighs," he opened his eyes. "She looks through you, sirs. Into you. Her eyes don't just hold still, they shift slightly as she looks at you, like she's looking at different things inside of you that you don't even know about."

Vuxten looked at the table. "I realize all of you have more experience with Terrans than I do, but even Casey and Trucker moved carefully around her. I noticed that the Immortals treated her with respect. She had, what seemed to be at times, a hair trigger temper. Her words were often mocking and cruel."

The Admiral sighed again. "Her origins?"

Vuxten shook his head. "Very little. I overheard that the Imperium ripped her name from her own mind," he looked up. "I overhead Daxin refer to her as 'that Age of Paranoia savage' more than once. I heard Kalki call her a Burgerlander once after she called him a goat herding idiot who was only missing a bone through his nose."

Vice Admiral (Lower Decks) Prawlgrath sighed again, looking at the smartsheet in front of him. "All right. Let's take a ten minute break."

Vuxten felt wrung out, like he'd been beaten with pugil sticks.

The ten minutes went by too fast.

The end of the 'unofficial board of inquiry' startled him.

"In closing, Major," Vice Admiral (Lower Decks) Prawlgrath sighed. "I would like to inform you that the Confederate Armed Services reserve the right to bring you before an unofficial or official board of inquiry at any time."

Vuxten nodded after his lawyer whispered in his ear. "I understand, sir."

"Thank you, Major. That will be all," the dismissal was curt.

Vuxten walked out of the room, making his way to the parkinglot with his lawyer.

"That wasn't too bad," the lawyer said, looking around the parkinglot with flat, dead, empty black eyes. He ran his hand through his close cut black hair, then put on his hat. He smiled at Vuxten with interlocked sharp teeth. "Call my office if you have any problems or questions, Major," he said.

"I will, thank you, Captain," Vuxten said.

The lawyer walked into the night and Vuxten could swear the puddles of light shrunk back from the gray skinned lawyer.

"That sucked," Vuxten said. He reached up and pinged the CQ. "I need the Duty Driver."

He stood out in the cool night air, listening to the bugs tap at the lights, and waited.

-----

Vice Admiral (Lower Decks) Prawlgrath looked at the notes in front of him and sighed. "That poor kid."

"He knew and remembered a lot more than he thought," General K'Lerk said, lighting a smoke.

"His brain was probably still processing that even after all these months," Admiral (Upper Decks) of the Bronze Nawgrwark said, flexing her arm and rubbing her biceps. "It made my blood run cold the way he's so familiar with beings that nothing more than legends and myths to us."

"I think I would have stroked out if you put me in the same room with three of the Immortals, much less almost all the remaining ones," General Dwemstill said, scratching his chin with his third hand, digging deep into the soft curly fur. "The way he's all 'oh, then Legion got me a fizzybrew from the vending machine Daxin the Unfeeling carried in while Menhit sang me a little song' is what freaked me out."

Sliding one of the sheets forward so that the data on it jumped to the ones in front of the gathered staff officers, Vice Admiral (Lower Decks) Prawlgrath sighed and tapped his own copy. "The kid took a hit from a Novastar. Not many can brag about that."

Another Admiral chuckled, lighting a cigarette. "The kid probably feels like we were attacking him the whole time."

Vice Admiral (Lower Decks) Prawlgrath nodded. "I know I did the first time I sat in front of a board of inquiry."

"Except you'd stolen a grav-skimmer, gotten drunk, and crashed it into a gray market brothel," another Admiral snickered.

"Never proven," Vice Admiral (Lower Decks) Prawlgrath harrumphed. "I will say, Major Vuxten's testimony and statements feel more real than Lance Corporal Casey's."

Admiral K'Lerk laughed. "That's because Vuxten's only about mid-thirties, where Casey's as old as any three of us put together."

General Dwemstill shuddered. "He's spent more time in armor, in combat, than some of us have spent in the Green Machine."

"Well, this part is done," Vice Admiral (Lower Decks) Prawlgrath said. He sighed again. "The O-Club is still open," he mused. He looked up as he hit the "Save-All" icon. "Shall we get a private room and adjourn for drinks."

"All in favor?" Admiral Nawgrwark asked.

The vote to move to the O-Club and drink themselves blind passed unanimously.

-----

Yrler looked at his cards in his hand.

"Got any threes?" he asked 515, who was in a smaller bed designed for a green mantid.

"Go fish," 515 answered.

The door whooshed open and the gold mantid doctors swooped in.

They looked in his ears and eyes, checked out scans of his brain, asked him more questions, then bustled out again.

They then returned, did the same to 515, then rushed out again.

Yrler looked at the ceiling and rolled his eyes, then winced at how the action made his brain twitch. He opened his left hand, activated his holoemmitter, and looked at his cards again.

"Got any twos?" 515 asked.

"Go fish," Yrler answered.

-----

Special Subject X1 felt a chill down his back as he entered the large room. It was not like the Quorums, Conclaves, and Conventions he had been privy too prior to his capture.

Instead, the room was large, comfortable. The paint on the walls was designed to be visually and phasically neutral. The windows showed a lovely garden with two fountains, one at either end. The table was highly polished, with holographic emitters and hidden displays.

At the table were nearly thirty Atrekna. There were twelve different body patterns present. All of them wore suits of bright primary colors that attracted attention. All of them wore garments around their neck that hung over their chests.

One at the far end, red lines down his limbs, his face, his neck, stood up.

"Welcome, Grandfather," he said, using his voice.

X1 was impressed at how the voice sounded cultured, educated, powerful.

"While our people can talk to one another within our subspecies, outside is difficult and often prone to mistranslation," the speaker said. He waved at a chair that had a complex device of crystal, phasonium, and Substance-W. "We have provided a device that will translate your psychic telepathic communication to sound vibration for our ease of understanding."

**I acknowledge and appreciate your efforts** X1 stated. He moved over and sat down, feeling strange in his iridescent robe.

"We would not interrupt your repose, Grandfather," the leader said. "But we wished to view you, speak with you, and seek your wisdom even as we inquire into your knowlege," the Atekna paused. "I am Urguglug, I am Species VII, and am the elected leader of this meeting and gathering. I am empowered to speak by my fellow neo-Atrekna but am not empowered to make any promises for my people or any other people."

**I understand** X1 stated.

There was a feeling of pleasure from the entire gathered neo-Atrekna.

X1 was still surprised at such feelings. There was no malevolence, no smugness, no slight stain of cruelty, to the pleasure. Just genuine pleasure, clean and clear.

"May we ask about your escape from the Fearsome Mother, whom you call 'The Detainee', Grandfather?" Urguglug asked.

X1 shuddered and signified discomfort and displeasure. **Escape is a generous word**

One of the gathered Atrekna tapped the table and a device of phasic crystal and phasonium rose up.

"This device can replay any memory you wish to share with us, Grandfather," another said.

X1 nodded. **Any memory I have is to be considered suspect** he told them. **Observe**

An image formed above the device in the middle of the table. It was of X1's view of the flower. There was slow, tinkling music with the image.

**that music is in my memories but I do not remember it** X1 stated.

DRAMATIC REENACTMENT OF POSSIBLE EVENTS MAYBE BASED ON A TRUE STORY WHO KNOWS appeared in Atrekna runes across the image.

**that is why any memory I have of escape is to be considered suspect** X1 stated. **It only took me a few hours of thinking about my escape to realize that the Detainee had faked memories for the twelve others before me, so what was my proof she had not done the same to me. That was when those runes appeared in memories**

The gathered neo-Atrekna all looked at one another and nodded.

X1 tensed for any attack.

"We understand, Grandfather," Urguglug said. He made a motion. "The Fearsome Mother is strange and her lessons can be hard to understand," he then tapped the table. "Since you doubt your own wisdom and knowledge, if you like, you can ask us questions, Grandfather."

X1 closed all three eyes for a moment, then opened them. He lifted his hand, staring at his pale gray flesh, the red lines running down his arm, to his hand, where it intersected a circle. From the circle was six lines, each running to a finger. At each knuckle was another circle.

One of the sets of neo-Atrekna had the same patterning.

**Will I be allowed to live?** X1 asked.

Urguglug nodded. "Of course, Grandfather. You carry the marks of each of us. You are of us all. You are welcome within our societies, to come and go as you please."

Another neo-Atrekna snapped her fingers to signify that she wished to speak. "I am Dublubgulp, I identify as female, and am of Species Three."

**I greet you**

"We would be honored to have you dwell within repose within our society, Grandfather," she said.

One by one, each group repeated her sentiment.

X1 found he believed them.

The sudden realization of the nihilism of his earlier life hit him with such force he wept.

The fact he was comforted by these strange children made his grief deeper.