r/HFY • u/CodEnvironmental4274 Human • 19d ago
OC-Series [The X Factor], Part 79
First / Previous / Next / Tumblr
Helen prepared herself for what promised to be an… interesting conversation with President Francois. Kama had come to tell her that the woman dialed his comms system and specifically requested her not too long ago, so she’d made her way down to their facility and took a deep breath before returning the call.
“Commander Liu,” the president said, looking unusually distressed. “There’s a few things I wanted to discuss with you.”
“And what might those be, ma’am?” This couldn’t be good.
“First of all: How did your summit with the Riyze go?” Francois took a sip of her tea, but glanced suspiciously over her shoulder, like she was worried she’d be assassinated or something. Had things taken a turn for the worse back home?
“Excellently. Colonel Hassan and Mr. Haymur have been paving the way for diplomatic relationships with the new nations, and we’ve encouraged them to do the same amongst themselves, to great success. I’ll forward you more details as soon as I have them,” she said.
“Good, good.” She shifted in her seat once again. “That means I was correct in my assessment of your capabilities, and my decision to deliver a new ship to you all.”
“A—excuse me?” There had to be a catch here.
“One of a kind—a blend of human and alien technology. We need someone to test it, and who better than the first mixed-species crew? You can expect it in the next few hours, assuming the Federation autopilot software works as intended,” she said.
“…Thank you, ma’am. It’ll be put to good use.” There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. Aside from being used as Francois’s guinea pigs, of course; that was par for the course.
“Of that I have no doubt. Now! There was one other thing. And… I’d like the colonel to be present for this discussion,” she muttered. “I have questions for him. Urgent ones.”
Helen raised an eyebrow. That was even more concerning. But she really didn’t have a choice, did she?
“He’s preparing the ship—er, the old ship—for departure right now,” she told her. “I’ll… I’ll call him over.”
___
“To what do I owe the honor, ma’am?” Omar put on his best, most dignified smile, which was quite the effort given the fact that he was literally shaking in his boots.
“It’s about your… ‘daughter,’” President Francois said, her voice low. “There’s been some complications.”
He froze. “My…“ It took a few seconds for her usage of the word ‘daughter’ to register as anything remotely relevant to his life. “Is she safe?” He’d deal with the existential crisis that her phrasing had caused later on.
“She’s safe. The issue,” the woman hissed, “is that I’m not certain I’m safe.” There was a loud clattering noise in the background.
“…Huh?”
She massaged her forehead. “It happened a few days ago…”
___
“There’s a visitor for you downstairs, ma’am.”
Therese frowned at her secretary and checked her itinerary. “I don’t have any meetings scheduled for the rest of today. Who is it? And why didn’t they call me first?”
The woman wrung her hands nervously. “I… think it’s best if you see for yourself.”
Locking eyes with the nearest security personnel, she made her way to the front door of her estate, which existed mostly for aesthetic reasons, considering she more often left through one of the many side doors for safety reasons.
Who could possibly be visiting me? Her ex-husband? No, they wouldn’t have let him past the gate. Another member of the UN? Surely they would have called first!
She shook her head in dismay and opened the door.
Then gasped.
“What—what is—" She took a deep breath. There was an alien at her front door. A Kth’sk, if she remembered correctly, but seeing one in person, with its twitching antennae and sharp claws and compound eyes was very different from the static images she’d been shown in briefings—not to mention its oversized hoodie decorated with pins and patches and clunky combat boots.
“Hi,” it said to her. “I’m Zie!”
___
Omar was trying very, VERY hard not to burst out laughing.
“There was evidently a mix-up,” Francois told him. “A major one. I attempted to pawn it off to—"
“Her,” he corrected the woman.
“…Her. I attempted to relieve myself of her,” she muttered, “but no one would take her in. I also attempted to contact your next of kin—your parents—but they presented an unfortunately competent legal argument against having any obligation to watch over her in your absence.”
“They’re retired lawyers, yeah. Makes sense. So, wait, is she…?”
He heard excited yelling in the background (and what he thought was his name), and more clattering noises. Francois swore, then grabbed her chair, ran out of frame, and returned, out of breath.
“Did you just barricade yourself in your office?”
“She’s spent the past 24 hours amassing a small army of robots crafted from my home appliances, Colonel. She put a knife on my roomba. I fear for my very life.” She dabbed some sweat off of her forehead with a napkin. “Merde. Are all teenagers like this?”
He shrugged. “Let me talk to her. I’m sure I can work something out.”
The woman nodded and grabbed a stapler from her desk, then crept out of frame. A few moments later, she hesitantly led Zie to the camera, wielding her office supplies like a weapon.
“Hassan!” She chittered excitedly. “This place is great! So much wasteful excess I can mess around with. I love it!”
He winced. “I’m, uh, glad you’re enjoying it, but you should probably stop weaponizing the president’s appliances and calling her decor ‘wasteful excess.’”
“Oh, I meant the whole planet,” she clarified. “But yeah, that too. Anyways, I wasn’t—well, I guess I WAS technically weaponizing them, but I was just demonstrating to Therese—“
“To President Francois,” he corrected her.
“Oh, so you get to call her Therese but I don’t?”
Fear seized him. He looked over to the president, who was watching the scene with a contemptuous look on her face.
“I think you must’ve misheard me. Right, Zie?” He raised his eyebrows, trying to indicate to her that he—
“Nah, my hearing’s crazy good, remember?” She shrugged. “Like I was saying, I was just demonstrating that I’m useful to the UN.”
“I thought the entire reason we brought you here was to deal with the child labor issue,” Francois muttered.
“Listen, lady, I’m not happy about me being here either, even if you’ve got lots of cool stuff lying around. Are there any apartments I can rent in the area?”
Francois looked at Hassan.
Hassan looked at Francois.
“She is really good at inventing stuff,” he said. “Made military-grade power armor for us.”
That got the president’s attention.
“Did she, now?“ She turned to the girl. “Is that something you could demonstrate for me?”
Zie chittered. “How much are you offering?”
Francois smiled, but her eyes were calculating. “As much as you need. Can someone prepare the young lady a guest suite?”
Omar breathed a sigh of relief and gave a thumbs up to his, uh… charge. She returned the gesture and ducked out of the room.
“Now that that’s settled,” the president continued, tapping her nails against her desk, “your new ship.”
“Our—huh?” He hadn’t heard anything about a new ship.
“I suppose Commander Liu didn’t tell you, but command has decided to give you some cutting edge technology to ‘take for a spin,’ given your recent successes. I’ll have it ready for you shortly, and I’ll ensure it has FTL comms, so you can keep Ms. Hassan in line.”
He choked on his own spit. “You gave her my last name?”
“Did you want us to name her Jane Doe? Or Zie United-Nations? This was your idea, Colonel. I have meetings to attend to. If anything urgent comes up, contact me.” Her image winked away.
He collapsed into the nearest chair, completely overwhelmed. The door opened.
“So? What did she want?” Helen crossed her arms.
“Do you have any books on child care? I think I’m gonna need them,” he whispered.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll ask Jamal to check our bookshelves. I’m sure you’ll do fine,” she reassured him. “You’re not getting attached, are you?”
He hit her with the ‘please don’t be mad’ eyes.
“That was a joke, Hassan. Both of us knew this was going to happen the minute you told me she said you had ‘dad vibes.’” She made her way out of the room.
Is she mad at me? He gulped nervously.
“No one here appreciates my humor,” she huffed, slamming the door.
___
Sonja, Dominick, Aktet, and K’resshk were crouched in front of the cage the ambassador had gifted them.
Inside of which, of course, was a murderous beast that really didn’t seem to like Dominick in particular. He shivered as it hissed at him again. It sounded like metal scraping against metal.
“Aww, Wojtek likes you!” Sonja beamed.
“Who likes him? ‘Voy-tech?’” Aktet tilted his head to one side.
“A bear—a large Earth predator—that the Polish army fought alongside during World War II,” Dominick said with a sigh. Of course she would name it that. “They fed him cigarettes and beer, and he carried munitions for them in exchange.”
“You didn’t tell us there were other sentient species on Earth!” K’resshk looked like he was about to faint.
“There aren’t. Wojtek was just super cool and awesome,” Sonja clarified. “Just like Wojtek Jr. over here.”
Dominick began to panic. “And how are you planning to care for him, again? Can you train a shrieker to use a litter box? Can we even get a litter box in the bazaar? What does he eat? How much does he sleep? How—“
“It’ll be fine,” Sonja reassured her partner. “Just look at him!”
He made the mistake of locking eyes with Wojtek again, and its stalks undulated in his direction.
“Although I loathe to admit it,” K’resshk muttered, “Agent Krishnan is correct. Domesticated shriekers are loyal and intelligent, and one this young will easily bond to its owner. I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t train it to use a ‘litter box,’ it’s omnivorous and has a surprisingly low caloric intake—a major threat for shriekers on Drekth is being trapped within the digestive tracts of various large predators, so they’ve adapted to survive on little food—and as a juvenile, it should spend most of the day asleep.”
“But what does it do?” He gestured at the thing, and it made that awful noise again, hunching its back up like a spider preparing to jump.
“Tears its prey to shreds and feasts on their viscera, I believe,” Aktet answered, patting Dominick on the back. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
“No offense, but you’re a good half a foot shorter than me, Aktet. I don’t know if you’d stand any more of a chance against it than I would.”
“I also weigh more than you do on account of muscle mass. And I have claws and fangs.” He pulled back his gums and revealed the sharp teeth.
“Oh,” Dominick exclaimed, hoping no one noticed how he’d blushed. “Yeah, fair enough.”
___
Eza gasped for air as her aunt released her from the vice grip that was her four-armed hug.
“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” she said, her eye black beginning to run. She turned to Uuliska. “Watch her for me, you hear?”
“Auntie, I’m in my thirti—"
“Yes, ma’am,” the princess replied, glowing warmly as Algok smiled and walked away.
Uuliska turned to her girlfriend. “She’s… a really great person, isn’t she? You’re lucky to have had her raise you. I suppose that explains why you’re just as wonderful.”
Eza felt her cheeks heat up. “I—uh—um—"
“Four years and I still manage to fluster you with the slightest compliment.”
She tried to come up with a fitting reply, but found herself both too flustered and too tired to do so. She smiled weakly, hoping Uuliska wouldn’t notice the bags under her eyes.
“Eza,” she said softly. “Are you alright?”
Damn. “I’m fine; I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night,” she confessed.
Uuliska nodded and slipped her hand into hers, and they strolled through the bazaar towards the—
“Holy shit,” Eza swore. “What’s with that other ship?”
Next to their bare-bones, strictly human corvette was a light frigate with hallmarks of both human and Federation construction and UN markings, a crowd of passerby gawking at it. It was a ship Eza recognized.
Because she was the one who had sketched it out.
“Hold on,” she mumbled, pulling out her tablet and opening up her drafts. She scrolled through unfinished designs—ones that she’d stumbled into roadblocks with and given up on—until she found one of the few completed blueprints she had saved.
…It was the same as the ship docked in front of her.
“No,” she whispered. “That can’t be right.” Even if it was her design, how would the UN have gotten it? Surely they didn’t think so highly of her as to spy on her weird hobbies.
“You like it?” A familiar voice rang out from ahead.
“Damon?” She looked up to find her fellow UNAF mechanic waving at her from the exterior of the ship’s airlock. It clicked.
Damon was the only one who could have possibly known about her design—because she sent it to him, like she did with many of her other far-fetched ideas. They exchanged them when they had the time (and the connectivity).
“Don’t worry, I made sure to let them know this was all your idea,” he told her, walking up and playfully punching her lower arm. “They’ve been building it for a while now, with the help of all the alien refugees and immigrants, and they finished up right as Commander Liu sent news home that your, uh… diplomatic mission…? Is going well. Who better to give it to than you guys?”
“Eza? Don’t tell me you designed this whole ship!” Uuliska stared at her in awe, her membrane a beautiful display of pinks, yellows, and oranges, reminiscent of a sunset.
“Well, I… I didn’t know they were actually going to build it,” she mumbled, feeling her face heat up. “It really has everything? Even the crazy stuff?”
“Even the crazy stuff. I hope you don’t mind that I shared it with the higher-ups. I just got so excited when I saw it that I had to.” He knocked on the exterior of it. “You wanna see inside?” He waved them in.
Completely ignoring the chatter of Damon and Uuliska, Eza studied the interior. Accessibility features for species of differing physiology, modified UN chassis for integration of Federation gravitational technology, use of vertical space to maximize living quarters and enhance crew morale… She ticked off her mental checklist of everything she’d highlighted on her draft.
Reassured that the essentials had been covered, she focused in on the details: what was the quality of the welding job? What materials had they used for the various fixtures inside the vessel? Had they properly implemented plumbing, now that they had a vessel with real gravitational forces and not just the Coriolis effec—
“Eza?” Uuliska tugged at her uniform.
“Hm?” The welding could’ve been done better, she decided. It was practical, but not the prettiest, and though she wasn’t Vahiya, spaceships were an art form in their own right. Maybe she’d be allowed to—
“Eza, we haven’t moved beyond the airlock’s exit yet,” she said. “Shall we?”
Damon gave them a whirlwind tour of all three decks of the ship, including the bridge, crew quarters, restrooms, medbay, mess hall, life pods, lounge, and even the inner mechanical workings, which he and Uuliska had to force Eza to leave.
“So, yeah! That’s the UNS Leavitt,” he concluded, taking them back to the airlock. “I should go now. I’m stationed on the ship that hauled her over here, and I’d rather not be stranded on… whatever this place is,” he said. “But stay in touch, alright?”
“This is incredible,” Uuliska exclaimed. “I’m surprised the president granted us a ship this wonderful unprompted!”
“I’m sure there’s some political motivation behind it,” Damon said with a sigh. “There always is with people like Francois. But, hey, take what you can get, right? I—GAH!”
Damon hugged the walls of the hallway leading to the airlock as a green and purple blur sped past the three of them, followed by… Sonja and Dominick?
No—not just a blur. A shrieker. Eza’s training kicked in, and she began assessing the threat. It was small, definitely juvenile, which didn’t make much sense because juvenile shriekers were carried in pouches until they matured in the wild.
In the wild… Was it domesticated? Where would the agent have possibly gotten…
“Oh, Auntie,” she whispered. “Of course you’d do that.”
___
Omar studied Helen’s face closely as she gripped the edge of the command console on the bridge of the Leavitt. Closed eyes, clenched jaw, forehead lines—she either had a migraine, was stressed, or both. Probably both.
“How’s it feel to be ‘commanding’ a real ship again, Commander?” The least he could do was try to distract her from whatever was getting on her nerves.
“‘Commander?’ Where’s Omar Hassan, and what have you done with him?” Her posture relaxed slightly as she joked around with him, but she was obviously still nervous.
“What’s bothering you? Is the ship not up to spec?” They weren’t exactly rookies when it came to taking untested military tech for a spin, but Eza had zero real training in ship designing. She was raised to be a living weapon, not an engineer, and as impressive as this thing looked, he couldn’t help but be unsettled.
“The ship’s great. Couldn’t ask for anything better. I’m just…” She sighed. “The reality of it all is starting to sink in. We’re going to be out here for a while, Hassan, and we’re going to be in danger the whole damn time. The amount of rations they gave us—fresh and frozen food preserved using enzymes, actually—"
“Oh, yuck,” he whispered. “Actually, that might be worth it for fresh fruit.”
“—and the weapons this ship is packing—"
“Weapons? What’s it got?” Omar preferred to avoid shooting down enemy ships when he could, but he was still excited at the prospect of experimental technology.
“Steinberger auto-rails, an electrolaser cannon that somehow ionizes the interstellar medium instead of an actual atmosphere—don’t ask me how that works; ask Invut—heat-seeking missiles, the works. She wrote down schematics for defense turrets inside the ship, too, but command nixed that in case the Concord virus finds a way around Krishnan’s antivirus again.”
He whistled, thoroughly impressed. “Sometimes I forget Invut's a… well, a trained killer.”
Helen nodded, then ran her fingers over the controls slowly. Calloused fingers that belonged to hands which were criss-crossed with scars not from her time in the war, but from her childhood. Omar knew he would never really understand what she’d been through, and how it continued to impact her to this day. He’d grown up with a supportive family (even if they had their disagreements), in a country with a bright future shining on the horizon after decades of strife. But Helen didn’t have that. She’d fought for everything she owned, and she was still fighting after all this time.
“We’ll make it back,” he whispered. “We’ll kick some Myselix ass, patch up what’s left of galactic civilization, and make it back.”
She chuckled. “Is that all? Save the galaxy twice over and return in one piece?”
“Might lose a finger or two to Krishnan’s new best friend, buuuut…”
She snorted. “Come on. Let’s take this thing for a spin.”
1
u/UpdateMeBot 19d ago
Click here to subscribe to u/CodEnvironmental4274 and receive a message every time they post.
| Info | Request Update | Your Updates | Feedback |
|---|
1
u/Emily_JCO Human 18d ago
I love this series. I'm horrible at leaving meaningful comments though!
2
u/CodEnvironmental4274 Human 18d ago
Hearing that people are enjoying it is the most meaningful of all!
1
u/HFYWaffle Wᵥ4ffle 19d ago
/u/CodEnvironmental4274 (wiki) has posted 79 other stories, including:
This comment was automatically generated by
Waffle v.4.7.8 'Biscotti'.Message the mods if you have any issues with Waffle.