Rennek
“Set controls to cruise while we wait for specs from the lab.”
“Yes sir, Captain,” Dax replies.
It’s impossible not to scoff, “Enough of that captain shit.” My childhood friends shoot me laughing glances. “Or at least save it for when we have an audience,” I tell them.
I sit in the captain’s seat of my new cargo ship, fine tuning a control panel and waiting for a comm from Tennir. Nearby sit two of my four male crew. Dax and Kellen are busy conducting their own work on the bridge and the other two males, Bossan and Da’vi, are on their rest shifts in their quarters for the next few hours.
“Drive set to cruise.... Captain,” Dax reports, his eyes on his work, yet still smiling. Always pushing the limits.
“Ass,” Kellen and I shake our heads and laugh. Today, Dax sits at navigation, although we often rotate duties. He is likely my best pilot. As a matter of fact, he is a hell of a pilot--both in the air and in the expanse of space.
Then there is quiet and reserved Kellen, today he is helping me do scans of the ship’s processes while waiting to direct the comm signal. Kellen is good at many things, but patience is one of his most valuable traits. I know he longs for a quiet and reserved life, which makes me that much more grateful to have him working by my side.
All but one of my crew are males who spent their internment on Javan with me. We are all “products of war,” as they call it. As such, we were required to be raised on an internment planet built to train and mold us into honorable males, capable of making positive contributions to the United Planets.
Our internment was many yets ago; we had since all gone our separate ways. Until three cycles ago, when I gave my old friends a call. They dropped everything for me, as I would have done for them.
Dax, Kellen, Bossan and I spent our formative yets living and working side by side like brothers on Javan. They understand more than anyone else the importance of being called upon by one’s “proper family” and there is not one of them who does not wish for the same honor themselves. When I asked them to join me on my cargo ship there had been no question to it. We were raised together since we were no more than fledglings. We have worked together, hunted together, studied together, and grew into adulthood together. We are brothers, even if we share no blood.
All except for for Da’vi, of course. He is the only one new to our group. I met Da’vi in a merchant spaceport during the days it took me to secure my ship.
Spaceports are notorious for trouble and trouble seemed to be seeking me on that particular rotation. Maybe the gangs could tell I was retired UPC, maybe they thought I had credits to pinch. Whatever the reason, it was lucky Da’vi had been there. He is a male of principle and honor. In that way, we are cut from the same cloth. He stepped forward to aid me in battle--seeing I was outnumbered.
In the end, the half dozen Canoori punks were no match for the two of us. The fight had been brutal--and though I have been taught not to bask in the rush of a battle, it is always a pleasure to punish dishonorable behavior. In any case, I immediately sensed I had a brother in Da’vi and offered him a job before we even wiped the blood from our hands.
I focus my mind on the ship as I continue to wait for my comm, busying myself by doing scans of the engines, thrusters, warp drives… It is good to monitor these systems on a new ship, to be sure everything is functioning as it should.
Dax and Kellen joke beside me, but I am lost in my thoughts. It brings me much happiness to be working with them again. I am often reminded how grateful I am for my friends’ sacrifices. It is my hope that one day I will be able to repay them for putting their own lives and goals on hold for me. I am a truly lucky male to have such friends. I feel the same way even for Da’vi. He has good instincts and knows much about engine and weapon systems. Other than that, however, I know little about him, save for his code of honor. But for me, honor means everything.
In his first days with us we questioned Da’vi about himself: his people, his planet, if he had been in internment… but Da’vi is a quiet one, private. As long as he completes his tasks, it is fine with the rest of us if he does not wish to speak.
Now here we are, three cycles and over a dozen successful transports later. Everything is running smoothly as we continue to become accustomed to our new lifestyles. It is hard to believe it was not so long ago all my efforts had been focused on rising the ranks of the United Protectors Coalition, or the UPC. The UPC is a military/policing group which acts as law enforcement on-world and in space, serving all United Planets territory, both primitive and urban alike. It offers protection on all levels with a variety of branches. All male products of war are required to enlist in a minimum of four yets of service to the UPC post internment, but I had been drawn to the role of protector on a deeper level and enlisted for a full career path.
I was serving on-world on Thaad as an enforcer. I had just begun to gain recognition for my work and had been rewarded for my efforts with a promotion. I was able to move out of the barracks and into my own apartment in an older part of the city. It was no palace, but it was my own and it was the first time in all my 29 yets that I lived alone. The day I moved into the small one room apartment I remember thinking I could never be filled with more pride.
Then I got a call from my proper family. After that, I said goodbye to all my hopes for a future with the UPC, left my apartment behind, and dived into this new career with all my being. There is no greater honor, being a product of war, than being called into service by one’s proper family. I would do all in my power to make my mother, brother and sister proud and to earn a place among them.
But for now, my crew and I work to navigate this new life as transporters for Tennir. When we aren’t learning the ins and outs of this ship, dealing with the cargo, or negotiating the fine line between legal acquisitions and black-market pirating--we make a strong effort to enjoy ourselves.
It isn’t hard. Five males, traveling the United Planets’ systems and beyond, on a top of the line cargo ship (retrofitted with some pretty heavy-duty artillery) and our chips loaded with Tennir’s credits? We have our fun.
We are by no means rich, but we suddenly have credits at our disposal far beyond what we ever dared to dream of as fledglings on Javan and greater still than what I was earning in my new position with the UPC. Not to mention, the swell of pride we feel for being in the service of my proper family and knowing the work we do is for the benefit of science and the Mother Planet? Pride fills my humble core.
Beep beep.
“Incoming comm,” Kellen announces. “Connecting now…”
“Greetings Rennek,” the viewing window at the front of the ship becomes clouded, converting into a monitor for the comm. Tennir’s image appears in the screen. Tennir is six yets older than myself and though he is a scientist, his build nearly matches my own. We have the same grey coloring to our skin, the same tall, pointed ears, and identical jet-black eyes. That being said, the differences in our appearances are more apparent than our similarities.
While Tennir has tightly cropped hair all over the crown of his head, I have a thick, jet black mane which dips down between my shoulders. Then of course, there are the more obvious differences. Such as my wings, my tall, the arcing horns on my head, and our legs are markedly different. I can’t help but see these differences--when instead I long to see the similarities between myself and my brother.
“Greetings to you as well, Tennir,” I reply. “How has the last shipment been acclimating?’
“Very well,” Tennir tells me and I can almost see the excitement in his eyes at the opportunity to talk about the latest shipment of creatures he received. Almost. That is if Tennir, the pragmatic scientist that he is, ever showed emotion.
“Quarantine is nearly complete and they will be exiting their artificial habitats soon to be integrated onto the planet. This group seems to be conforming to the new environment well already. There have been no deaths or illnesses as of yet. They reacted well to immunizations, so we are very hopeful about the prospects. Very hopeful,” he tells me.
“It brings me joy to hear this Tennir.”
“Thanks be to you.” Tennir nods his pleasantries, but I can recognize the all business look now taking over his face.
“As you recall from the briefing Rennek, the world the Mother Planet Biological Research Team is populating for this project has a wide variety of climate regions. There are both aquatic and dry-land terrains, mountainous regions, deserts,” he ticks off his fingers. “The shipments thus far have been exciting for myself and the other scientists…” Tennir pauses, “but we are eager to see variety. This is an entire terraformed planet we are populating with wildlife from scratch and for the ecosystem to thrive we need creatures large and small, from great beasts to the smallest insect. Not only that, but we need to account for those who will not survive the acclimation process, any that might be weeded out due to the newly establishing food chain, and Goddesses only know what else… variety is of the utmost importance here.”
“Yes, Tennir. I understand. I know the shipments so far have been somewhat... homogenous.” Most of the alien creatures I have seen going through my cargo holds are all roughly the same smallish size and covered in fur. To sum it up, there is a large market for alien pets. I can imagine it is not exactly exciting for a group of scientists who were hoping to be amazed by all the creatures far away planets had to offer.
“It is difficult to know in advance what some of these suppliers will have lined up due to their… ah… methods of acquisition and much of their cargo is aimed at rich collectors who are searching for novelty pets, so the creatures usually tend to be of a certain variety,” I explain to him.
Tennir runs a hand over his face. “I know this Rennek. I apologize for my eagerness. It will take many yets to establish the diversity necessary to populate the planet. I am being rash. Just with what you have brought us thus far alone, we have yets of work ahead of us.”
“I understand your concerns Tennir, we have two new suppliers in the coming rotations and a meeting with a repeat supplier we have begun to build something of a relationship with. A Ju’tup.” I wonder if Tennir knows the Ju’tup race are nothing more than pirates and criminals.
“New suppliers mean new cargo and the Ju’tup… often carry many interesting things… as their captain learns to trust us he may offer merchandise he does not pass along to every client,” I inform Tennir.
“Is it a matter of credits…” Tennir begins.
“We offer more than enough, Tennir.” I tell him, waving away his concerns. “Pay too much and these suppliers will take you for a fool whose pockets they can leach or they will start dying the hides of common marsh rakes and selling them to you for a profit.”
“Yes, Rennek. Of course. You have my faith. Do all you can to inquire about new specimens and I’ll trust your knowledge in making these deals.” Tennir pauses. “Mother would want me to ensure… are these missions safe?” He asks, making me think perhaps he does know the reputation of the Ju’tup.
I laugh at this, “If Madreed asks, tell her I am no more or less safe than when I was an enforcer. She has no reason to worry over me.”
“Yes, I imagine so.” Tennir pauses again to take in the appearance of the three males on his view screen. “I see you have decided not to wear the uniforms provided to you.”
At that, Dax chokes on his own laughter and Kellen shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“We… the crew… It would not be advisable for transactions,” I explain, rather diplomatically to my pleasant surprise. Especially when one considered said uniforms. There was definitely a reason my team I were out in the field securing new specimens, and the scientists were back in the lab. A fledgling back on Javan wouldn’t be caught dead in such a thing. Wearing those ridiculous jumpsuits during transactions with pirates was not on the menu. Not now, not ever.
Tennir nods absently, his mind elsewhere already. “When can we expect you?”
“Just shy of a cycle. That should give us time to make all three contacts and give your team the opportunity to finish clearing out those quarantine habitats. Be ready to process a larger number of specimens, we have never come in with more than two loads thus far. With three, the cargo holds should be at maximum capacity.”
“Wonderful Rennek, we’ll be ready. You have my gratitude.”
“And you, mine.” With nods to one another the comms click off and the window clears to show an endless sea of stars.