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12:50, 9.1.2421 Station Time
Deck 06, Lavatory
The warm fresh smell of soap wafted up through the cold air as Inki scrubbed her paws and claws clean. Her pale skin and dark fur came back out the sink dripping wet, something a quick pass under the rapid dryer mostly dealt with. As Inki wiped the excess moisture on her hands off on the seat of her pants, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and paused. Mentally, she couldn’t help but begin to compare the facial features of herself and Vilk. She found herself staring into her own dark eyes as she slowly wiped her hands. It almost made her feel queasy. Inki shook the thoughts from her mind as she pulled her gloves from her belt and put them back on.
Inki stepped outside and Kelso was there waiting for her. The Ensign was one of the Human crew from the Federation who co-administered the station, making up roughly one third of the crew complement. Ensign Kelso was one of her go-to deputies, been so for the last two years. Good kid, smart, eager, enjoyed life on the frontier of space just like she did.
“Sir, I have a question.” He spoke up as they walked. The two of them made their way briskly through the gray halls, past terminals and sealed bulkhead doors.
“What’s on your mind, Ensign?”
“Well sir, I heard this Lumirian we picked up, I heard he was from another dimension. Is that true?”
“Maybe. It’s a working theory.” Inki folded her arms behind her back as they walked. “I’m no physicist. But it should be interesting.”
“Sir?”
“The man we picked up is yours truly. Or so I’ve been told.”
“He’s… you, sir?”
“According to our DNA records.” The two of them rounded a corner, following a blue marker on the floor that pointed the way to sickbay.
“But you’re not male.”
“That’s, ‘you’re not male’, sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Consider yourself lucky I’m the only one with the authority to boss you around, I can’t imagine what your life would be like with two of me ordering you around.”
“That’d be unpleasant, sir.” Inki turned to him, narrowing her eyes and raising her brow in a way that shot an icicle of fear into the Ensign. “I mean, it’d be-”
“Don’t be a shitpump, Kelso.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
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13:07, 9.1.2421 Station Time
Deck 06, Sickbay
Vilk had regained consciousness not long ago. Inki eyed him from inside Netta’s office as she got lost in thought. So this is what she was going to have to figure out, she thought. She had a lot of questions, personal and professional. Why were you on that ship, what was your job, how close to me are you? A parallel universe, it didn’t seem believable really, but this kind of theoretical science was way outside of her field of expertise. She’d rather stick to investigations, security systems, xeno warfare and martial arts.
He sat up and seemed to be weakly talking with Netta, though they were quiet and their words were unclear to her from this distance, the same distance that made reading their lips impractical. Inki had to figure out how to approach this. But the longer she thought about it, the more she imagined she shouldn’t deviate too far from her normal modus operandi. Though considering the recent disaster this man endured, she wanted to approach this with a gentle hand and a personable attitude. She wanted to try. But as she stood there and watched him, she felt something else. Not fascination, not compassion, but something stomach churning. He looked wrong to her. This was a man that she never wanted to see in a mirror. It was a vague notion that she couldn’t shake. She knew that she shouldn’t think of him this way, but she couldn’t help it. It was a cause of unease that seemed to well up in her core.
But she wasn’t about to let her guard down, and she called in Twyg, her Vroonian deputy, to oversee their talks. The large, snail-like crewman was their resident psion and psychic, so he’d be able to help Inki pick through Vilk’s responses. Twyg had proven his usefulness as an officer and psychic numerous times in the past, and she had a lot of faith in his ability to read people and find lies and tricks. He had taken up a position near the entrance to the ward with Ensign Kelso, waiting to read the room. The tall, pale skinned human lacked the psychic skills of Twyg, but had a keen mind and fast hand. Both of them would be able to keep their guest under control easily.
The smell of coffee permeated the office by the time Netta came back. Inki had the replicator make a carafe of black coffee to share with the rescued crewman. It was one of her favorite drinks, maybe Vilk would like it, she thought. She offered some to Netta, but she waved it down. The Doctor made a note on her datapad before turning to Inki as she picked up the tray of coffee with gusto.
“Well the patient is cognizant and seems to be responding well. Cortical scans show he has largely recovered. I also pulled a small, faulty implant from his skull prior to him waking up.”
“An implant? Like one of the CNI laces our officers have?”
“Far from it.” The doctor held up a small plastic bag with what looked like a tiny metal pill in it. “This was installed near his pain editor implant; it’s a self destruct implant used on some slave races. If the right code was sent to it, it would have exploded in his skull and killed him. However it looks like whatever caused the concussion damaged the device, it’s inoperable.”
“I see.” She scooped the bag out of Netta’s hand and looked it over before placing it into her pocket, struggling to balance her coffee tray the entire time. “Is he alright otherwise?”
“Yes.” Her eyes went to the coffee. “I thought Lieutenant Gerald was going to be the one to conduct the interview though.”
“Originally, yes. But I pulled some strings.”
“You… Constable, this isn’t… this situation is somewhat fragile, you do realize that, right? I thought the Commander advised against this.”
“She never expressly forbid it.” Netta narrowed her eyes at Inki as she tried to justify her actions with a little smile. “Doc. There is no procedural precedent for this. I feel I am more capable than Gerald for the task at hand. He lacks my insights into this… person.”
“I am not sure I agree with this. But, are you sure you want to be the first person to speak with him?”
“Just let me by, Doc. I’m the person that has the best idea what he’s going through. I should be able to figure him out, provided you say he’s medically ready.”
“Yes, I feel you will be able to proceed with the interview provided he cooperates. He is agitated.”
“Well I can be very persuasive.” Inki moved to step by Netta, but the Doctor stopped her with a hand.
“Be careful.”
“What do you think he’s dangerous? I can handle myself, Doc.”
“I mean, be careful with your head here. You let your emotions get in the way at times. And this is a strange situation... you need to keep this at tail’s length.”
“Relax, Doc.” Inki gave her a reassuring smile. “You worry too much.”
Netta didn’t say anything, just stared judgingly at Inki as she smiled and awkwardly made her way out the door past her, the coffee tray clicking and clacking as she bumped into Netta. With a little apology and smile, Inki made her way over to the ward bed where Vilk sat. She placed her coffee tray on a nearby table and pulled a chair over. Being so close to Vilk now though, it sent prickly shivers down her spine and tail. There was a disconcerting feeling with his face, like there was some kind of uncanny valley. So close to hers, but it just wasn’t.
“I’m Lieutenant Inki, chief of security onboard this station. I’d like to ask you a few questions. Coffee?”
“Coffee?” He spat the word out, almost as if he was insulted. Small bits of steam wafting up caught his eye as Inki spoke. But his gaze was twitchy, hopping around the room in a manner that seemed to suggest he was searching for danger but trying to be subtle about it.
“A brewed drink made from roasted beans, it’s rather bitter but I find it refreshing. Humans came up with it several hundred years ago, it’s a common drink on their world.”
“I am not sure I want to have any of this Human drink. But if it makes you cause me less trouble, then I’ll try it.” Inki took the carafe and poured both of the silver metal mugs full of it. She couldn’t help but scan his features again as she handed the mug over to him. This was strange. She felt her mind growing tight as he looked at her and took the mug. She felt like she was on the verge of needing to fight or run, like something was about to go horribly wrong. But she couldn’t look away. Vilk speaking shook her from her train of thought. “But I have work I must do. I can’t stay here, if I’ve been cleared to leave I must do so immediately.”
“The Doc will be the judge of that, not me. What’s your name?” She took a sip.
“Sergeant Vilk, son of Kald. I am second in command of the security department onboard the INV Admonisher.”
“Not a name I would have picked but it’s nice.” With one hand she spun the chair around and sat in it backwards, facing him. She buried that feeling of unease in her gut and tried to take shelter behind her personable nature.
“With all due respect, ma’am, I need to get in contact with Captain Sulek’Kal immediately. I need to make sure our squadron alerted Fleet Command to our position.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. I am sorry to say this, but the Admonisher was almost completely destroyed during its slipspace jump. We have yet to ascertain the exact cause of what happened to your ship. You’re the only survivor we’ve found.”
“The-” He paused, looking her dead in the eye before turning away a moment. “They’re gone? That’s preposterous. What about the rest of the squadron? We had five heavy cruisers and three times that many destroyers. They couldn’t all be destroyed.”
“We’ve seen no sign of any ship other than your own, and only the rear portion of your ship made the jump. Only three lifeboats were launched and recovered. One survivor.” She pointed at him. “You. I am sorry to say but no one onboard survived the incident.”
Vilk sank into his bed somewhat, briefly turning his eyes to Inki before staring off into space again.
“Don’t be sorry. The posting wasn’t what I’d call ideal.” He took the coffee, staring at it, something was taking up his thoughts other than the shock of the loss of his crew. She didn’t know what. “I... need to make contact with Fleet Command.”
“Were you a slave soldier, a conscript?” He didn’t answer, his mind was elsewhere, dwelling on the loss of his ship and crew, trying to pull answers from the dark reflective surface of his drink. Then he spoke.
“You seem to know very little. I have contingency orders I must enact.”
“I know more than you think.” She reached into her pocket and tossed him the bag with his self destruct implant. “If your orders are to contact your superiors or destroy your ship, I am afraid neither of those is possible anymore. My chief engineer suggests that a gravity weapon was used against your ship. Can you tell me anything about it? Who were you engaged with?”
He quietly picked it up, and to her surprise, his demeanor changed. The question seemed to flow off him like water, and Inki was willing to let that slide for now. No longer was he so tense and anxious as he looked over the little device. Though it didn’t completely assuage those feelings. No doubt he felt somewhat liberated, the dark fear of being killed at a moment’s notice at a master’s will had been lifted from his mind. But still he looked lost, rudderless, no anchor, like a sea opened up before him and he had no course to chart. The feeling of relief seemed to be fleeting though, as he seemed to tense up and look around the room again as a feeling of paranoia crept into him. The brief idea of freedom was washed away like silt.
“Is this, is this a test?” He stammered, reaching up to a spot on his skull. His hand recoiled back as he touched a small shaved patch on his head.
“No. This is not a test.”
And to Inki he suddenly seemed so small. She didn’t want to use the word pitiful in her head, but she did. This man was the incarnation of everything she did not want to be. A small, sad, broken man. Twitchy and aggressive, and alone. She almost felt like his mere presence was something she had to defend herself from. She almost wanted to hate him, but she couldn’t, she still felt this intrinsic empathy like she hadn’t felt before. Maybe she hated the idea of him. But regardless she had to tell herself; he is a victim. She couldn’t forget that, no matter how much he rubbed her fur the wrong way. He seemed to stare into that void in his head for some moment before he spoke again.
“Where are we?”
“You’re onboard New Metost Orbital. It’s-”
“Metost?” He quickly turned, looking almost repulsed. “I’ve heard that name before. That was the location of a labor camp on my homeworld. My grandmother-”
“Trabb.” Inki quietly blurted out the name of her own grandmother on an almost involuntary impulse. She knew Trabb was at the liberation of the Metost camp from the stories she had heard over the years. Gruesome tales. Trabb grew up and fought during the occupation as a guerrilla fighter, she was involved in countless operations, attacks, and bombings. Trabb must have existed for Vilk in his reality in the same way, that would explain the look of reserved shock on his face as she said the name.
“... yes.” Vilk raised his eyes to her again, suddenly growing hesitant. Inki may have just overstepped her bounds here she realized. No doubt this namedrop raised some red flags in his head. He seemed to be evaluating her more intensely now as he spoke. “Trabb was there, she told me about what she saw. She was with the resistance even through the second invasion of Mekon.”
“Second invasion?” There was no second invasion in Inki’s timeline.
“After the first occupation collapsed under its own weight, yes. The Rothaki reasserted themselves following a coup attempt. I don’t understand how you, a Lumirian, don't know this. Have you lived offworld all this time? No, that wouldn’t make sense. Your doctor looks like Scorali’s kid... You’re with the resistance, aren’t you? That’s why you aren’t in Imperial colors.”
“That’s because I’m with the CCA, we-.” Inki trailed off as Vilk became aggressive again.
“What, are you with the Coalition then? Are they working together now?”
“The Coalition? No. I can’t say I’m familiar with them.”
“Oh this is a joke, they’re the single largest unified front against the Rothaki Fell Throne and you haven’t heard of them?” He nearly yelled at her as he spoke, his voice filling with a hollow rage. “What is this nonsense you’re peddling?”
“You’re far from home, Vilk.” Inki sighed, putting her coffee down. “This place isn’t like the one you’re from. There is no Coalition, the Fell Throne isn’t nearly so aggressive, and Mekon is… not under Rothaki control. This isn’t your universe, your timeline. No doubt this will sound like a lot of fiction to you. I certainly wouldn’t believe me at first.”
“What?” He blinked twice. The news seemed to have a profound impact on him. Or the notion of it did, he was searching for meaning or purpose in her words. Inki could see him mentally stutter and stammer to himself as his world view took a hit and forced him to go defensive. “What are you talking about? Is this some interrogation method because it is idiotic.”
“Oh please, if I wanted to interrogate you, you’d know it by now. Mekon is an independent world here, run by the CCA, we’re a non-member observing state of the Federation. The occupation of Mekon collapsed around the time that Veiled Lord Brask’Suzika was assassinated.”
“This doesn’t make sense. What kind of… why are you telling me this? What purpose does this serve?”
“It’s the truth. It serves no purpose other than to be fact. Your ship isn’t from reality as we know it. The death of the Veiled Lord that orchestrated the occupation of Mekon is one of the key differences between our realities. Without him, this entire galactic arm is different. He’s not here. Gone. Killed by his Vizier’s forces at Abbadon’s Gate. The Rothaki fell to infighting for some time afterwards. At least, they did here.”
“That’s… not possible. This is a trick. How can you expect me to believe this?”
“If I was going to trick you I’d make up something far more interesting than a few decades of peace. I don’t have a reason to lie to you, I don’t have an ulterior motive, I am just trying to help you make sense of this. But I am not sure how I can prove it to you.” Actually. Maybe she did. “Though. Wait here.”
Inki got up and made her way back to the office where Netta sat at her terminal.
“Hey, Doc, is he well enough to leave sickbay?”
“Yes, though I’d advise against strenuous physical activity and undue mental stress. Why?”
“I intend on showing him some of the station.”
“Have you ascertained whether or not this man is a threat?” She gave Inki a sideways glare.
“I don’t believe he is.” She pointed at Twyg and ushered him over.
The large Vroonian snail crossed the room as speedily as his large, amorphis mollusk foot would allow. Which was admittedly about as fast as a brisk walk when he tried rushing. The large snail slide into the doorway behind Inki, taking up most of the frame himself.
“Sir?”
“Ensign, what is your interpretation of the patient’s mental condition and attitude?”
“His mind feels anxious, defensive, confused. Not aggressive per say, but reactive. He is saddened by loss and has been left tight from indecision and lack of guidance. He has cold thoughts that I’ve traced back to serious self worth issues. Paranoia may cloud his judgement.”
“I’m not surprised, considering he seems to have been a slave. He’s reserved, hesitant, angry for sure but more frustrated than anything else.” Inki put a finger to her chin. “I think once he sees exactly what his situation is, he may open up some. Twyg, get a security detail to the Upper Concourse on deck seven and have them follow us when we arrive. And get him some clothes.”
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13:51, 9.1.2421 Station Time
Deck 06, Turbolift Access
Inki rocked gently on her feet, hands folded behind her back as she watched Vilk in front of her as they waited for the turbolift to arrive. They had gotten him out of his medical gown and into something a bit more casual looking, namely a light loose fitting double breasted shirt and coat. Both of which hung on his wiry frame with a lazy weight to them. The skinny Lumirian’s beady little eyes shifted quietly from her to the door and back again. Inki kept a quiet, judgemental eye on him. Being a security risk, Vilk was to remain in the presence of at least one member of station security at all given times, and there were to be other officers nearby unseen. Inki had yet to make the judgement call as to whether or not this man was safe to leave around others unsupervised.
“So, ah, what is the food like on Rothaki ships?”
“Standard protein packs and rations, hardtack and vitamins to keep my kind going. The Rothaki themselves have access to better food though.” He folded his arms behind his back and began to fidget, clearly expecting trouble.
Oh, she thought, that sounded awful. Even military rations in the CCA sounded more appealing than that, and they were a far cry from a real meal. Inki was somewhat of a connoisseur of food, both native Lumirian and alien. Since she was young, Inki had taken an interest in baking and cooking. Her father, Kald, owned a bakery on Mekon in her home holt of Tufel-Met, that’s where she really first took an interest in food. Inki was a dreadful child, and the interest she got in cooking kept her on track and out of detention centers. She wondered if Vilk was as ill behaved as she was when she was younger.
“Would you like some lunch? I can find something better than hardtack I imagine.”
“I can’t argue against that.” He almost seemed to smile there. It was a look that faded quickly, replaced by some serious facade. He looked tired, his mind was elsewhere.
As fascinated by this as Inki was, she did have to figure out just what to do with him. She had to further evaluate him in a social environment and try to establish if this man could be a danger to himself or others here. It was possible, she thought, that perhaps he could be granted asylum. Though, would the law consider him to be a collaborator?
In the meantime she wanted to show him some comforts and see if she could calm his spirit some. He was utterly captivating, unsettling. Haunting. She had admittedly begun to worry that her unease could leak through her professional persona and agitate him further. The doors of the lift suddenly wooshed open after a brief humming sound, and two Lumirian crewmen in CCA blues stepped off and gave Inki a brief greeting as the two groups walked by each other. Inki pressed a button to seal the doors.
“Deck seven, Upper Concourse.” The lift instantly hummed to life. It hummed for a moment before Vilk spoke up again.
“So. If this is some kind of alternate timeline, is that why I feel like we’ve met? Is that why you knew about Trabb?” He snapped at her, immediately turning away when she looked back.
“I guess we may have known each other in another time and place. I’m from Tufel-Met myself.”
“Really?” He didn’t sound convinced.
“Yeah. And no before you ask, I’m not making it up just because you said you were from Tufel-Met.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Well...” She thought for a moment. “I can tell you when I was a kid, me and the other kids would often hide from our parents in this little underwater cave that was off the coast near these-”
“Three big rocks.” He blinked, speaking quietly. Inki realized he was familiar with the place after all.
“Yeah. And inside the cave, there was this little bunch of weird black rocks that I’d sit on and just listen to the waves up above. Someone carved a small family of stick figures onto one of them, years before I found the place I think.”
“Hunh.” He looked genuinely surprised. “That… was there.”
“You’ve been there too?”
“Yeah.” He smiled a little. “Maybe we did meet before. Not many people I know knew about that little cave.”
“It was a good little secret, wasn’t it?” Inki gave Vilk a little smile. “A great way to escape from it all.”
“Yeah.” The two exchanged a little smile. The general air about him seemed to change. He wasn’t as worried, but he was just as pensive. A small weight seemed to lift from Inki’s shoulders, and that unsettling aura of misfortune that had been hanging over those two seemed to have lessened. At that moment, Inki felt content with his presence for the first time.
The turbolift slowed to a halt just before the doors wooshed open into a small semicircle room where a trio of Lumirian crew and a few Human civilians waited near the turbolifts doors. The little lobby had three doors, two for the lifts and one that acted as an airlock for the deck beyond. Out past the turbolift lobby the doors opened up to the Upper Concourse, the largest civilian area on the station. Small crowds of people made their way through the lively street, wandering between small shops and restaurants and leisure areas. Vilk lit up as he gazed up at the vaulted ceiling lined with support struts and decorative banners and the colored lights above each shop. Inki saw his gaze move through the room as his head moved as if on a swivel. The whole place had a warm and inviting atmosphere that was no doubt alien to Vilk.
“It’s so big!” He gasped, looking up at the ceiling and down the hall towards the dozens of colorful shops. He hesitantly stepped out, cautiously looking around. His smile curled down into a frown as he grew worried yet again, quickly scuttling up to Inki with hurried steps.
“And this is just part of our station, New Metost Orbital has a population of about twenty four hundred people onboard.” Inki stepped up next to him and held her arm out, beckoning him to follow her. He did.
“Is this station a garrison?”
“Not at all. While the station does provide defenses to the colony down below, the main purpose of this place is to serve as a scientific and logistical support installation.” Inki folded her arms behind her back as they walked, holding her chin up high as she began to brag about her workplace. “We have numerous science labs, botanical facilities, fabrication plants, and loading docks. Large ships that can’t make planetfall can dock here and offload personnel, equipment, and cargo, which are in turn shuttled to the surface in atmo capable ships. We’re currently in the Upper Concourse, the largest civilian mall on the station. It’s where crew and civilians can acquire creature comforts and spend some of their off time. Most of the station’s superstructure is dedicated to the previously mentioned facilities.”
“I see.” As they walked, Vilk occasionally tracked people as they passed the two of them with idle curiosity. “It seems so peaceful… there is no tension here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” He trailed off, looking over his shoulder. No doubt he spotted the distant security detail, he seemed to shrink into himself. “O-on the Rothaki ships and stations that I have served upon, the air was filled with tension. The only quiet time I’ve had was during our after hours rack time, unless you could prove your loyalty to the Rothaki crew. Having access to a place like this was something I wouldn’t have seen unless I was planet side. To see Lumirians walking around unmolested and baffles me. We all look so out of place. I feel like this can’t be real.”
“We are no longer slaves, Vilk. While the occupation of Mekon is a scar that runs deep, we’ve worked long and hard to recover and thrive in the long years since it ended.”
He didn’t respond.
“It pains me to hear that our people are still so abused where you come from.”
He didn’t respond.
Inki began to reach out to touch his shoulder and comfort him. But as she did, right as her hand was about to touch him, she hesitated. Something rang in her head like nails on a chalkboard. This felt wrong, and as she went to touch him her skin crawled. Quietly and unseen, she reeled away slowly and folded her hands behind her back again.
The two walked in silence for a few moments, Inki giving brief nods and greetings to fellow crew and civilians she knew as they made their way towards the food court. Inki saw the smells getting his attention as they walked. A dozen little restaurant shops lined this part of the concourse, each one of them with different lights and smells coming out of them. About a third of them were Lumirian shops, serving up fresh Mekon cuisine such as seamed skola-fin and peppered noodles or making fresh baked goods like iced buns and salted sweet rolls. Very tempting smells wafted up through the air, even from the xeno shops that had aliens manning their counters and offering up strange and popular dishes, such as one of the local Vroonian snails who had made his home on the station selling frozen treats of varying complexity. Far at the end of the food court area, past the seating, sat the neon lit entrance to Tor Kwat’s bar and holotheater lounge, a very popular place for crew and civilians alike when they sought out some rest and relaxation, assuming you could tolerate the host. And if somehow none of the fresh food was to your liking, there was the self-serve replimat where anyone could have a programmed dish replicated for them from stored proteins and carbohydrates. While not as good as fresh food, Inki often cited the texture was frequently off, it was still healthy and quick, no matter what you ordered.
“Oh wow. This place has so many smells in it. I’m reminded of the officer’s mess… this place is for anyone to eat at though? Even us?”
“Yes. I’ll put whatever you want on my tab.” Inki held her arm out, and the two began to browse with Vilk nervously leading the way, occasionally twitching as someone passed close by. Perhaps he expected to be struck or otherwise hostile.
“Oh now did someone say something about paying?” A voice came from off to their right, one Inki immediately recognized.
Tor Kwat stepped up from where he had been browsing at a kiosk and Inki’s face immediately soured. The Aviran stepped up with a coy smile on his toothy beak as he clasped his hands together. As he did his gold ringed fingers clinked. He was a far cry from the two Lumirians physically; largely related to birds and reptiles, the Avirans were big feathered creatures with pointy talons and long tails lined with bright plumage. Kwat flaunted his colorful body and matched it with an equally gaudy suit clad in purple and pink stripes today.
“Mr. Kwat. You seem to be in fine health considering your injury earlier in the day.”
“Oh honestly that was nothing, a mere misunderstanding over some business arrangement. But enough about me, please introduce me to your friend!”
Kwat moved to step between the two Lumirians, and Inki stopped him with an upheld arm. Vilk seemed to shrink back some, unsure of this new man’s intentions. Inki used her larger stature as a bulwark to protect Vilk.
“I...”
“Why are you bothering us, Kwat?”
“I like making friends, Constable.” He gave an insincere smile.
“Vilk doesn’t have any money, Kwat.”
“I see.” That instantly changed his demeanor and his smile faded. “Well perhaps if you have some credits or a line of credit or would like to take out a loan-”
“Go away, Kwat.”
“Suit yourself, slinky.” The two of them watched the bird make a little elaborate bow as he backed away and retreated towards his bar in the distance.
“Don’t mind him too much. He’s just… Kwat.”
Inki tried to reassure Vilk that Kwat was just a money grubbing capitalist, who has let the success of his holotheater go to his head. Vilk seemed to try to ignore Kwat for the most part, aside from watching with some alien curiosity. She wondered if he had seen an Aviran before. The two restarted their browsing of restaurants now that they were left to their own devices again.
Eventually he settled on trying the Human restaurant, this month they were offering variant Italian dishes made using ingredients that had been imported from the Martian lowlands. Large varieties of strangely shaped noodles were on offer, and an equal variety of sauces and cloned meats that were loaded with spices and herbs. Vilk was convinced by the tall and dark skinned man to try what he called ravioli, which were a type of little pinched pocket of noodle dough filled with cheese and meat and coated in a thick and spicy sauce.
Inki led the pair to a table that was neatly tucked under a spiral staircase that led to the upper levels, out of the way of the small crowds that had been making their way through the area as people got their food and socialized. Vilk sat in a reserved way, despite his excitement, he seemed to compulsively hold his arms close to his body and keep his knees together when he sat. Inki had seen behavior like that before, in people who had spent time in prison. They developed these habits of trying to take up as little space as they could, keeping one’s arms and legs to themselves helped keep the number of injuries they received down.
Vilk smiled at his plate as he delicately cut up his food and started pushing bits of it to the side, Inki saw him mouthing out numbers, mentally counting. He must have been trying to figure out how to ration food like this. She couldn’t imagine herself like this. Vilk was so beaten, so tired, he must have felt like none of this was real. There was that distant look to his eyes the entire time, at least, whenever he wasn’t twitching and paranoidly searching for hidden enemies. When he finally tried some, after seemingly taking his time enjoying the scent, his face lit up in a way that made Inki smile. Seeing him happier was, it was good. And as she watched him, this man seemed like less of a distant enigma.
“Oh by the spirits this is decadent.”
“Mmm, it is good. I will have to ask Neil for the recipe.” Inki took another bite, accidentally dripping some sauce on her chin as she did. Awkwardly she tried to get it with her tongue, and a chuckle from Vilk made her get the napkin instead.
“You can cook things like this?” As he spoke, Inki caught a glimpse of him watching her.
“I hope so. Cooking is a hobby of mine. I like trying out recipes and techniques from other cultures.”
“What else do you do, in terms of hobbies I mean?”
“Well...” Inki leaned back and waved her fork in the air. “Cooking, told you that. I like studying xeno-warfare and games. The latter of those two led me into my rather rough miniature painting hobby. I could do a lot to improve there. Ah, oh, studying xeno-martial arts as well. I guess I’ve always loved reading into other cultures, especially with how they view combat and games. What about you, do you have any hobbies?”
“Well, I whittle some. Whenever I get some spare wood or a particularly large bone. I found it a good way to pass the time, and I have been able to trade some of my little sculptures for rum or extra rations.” They both were into artistic hobbies, Inki realized. “Or I used to be able to.”
“With your crew on the ship?”
“With my friends on the ship.” He put his fork down and started to wring his hands together. “The Rothaki were only friends to their own kind, but there were Lumirians onboard that I got along with. Liked, even.”
“Were you stationed on the Admonisher long?”
“About three years. I had another posting before that, as a guard on an orbital shipyard. And before that I worked a checkpoint on Mekon near the Capitol. Customs specifically. I had to check the papers and manifests for people and things going into the city.”
“What, ah, what is Mekon like, where you’re from?”
“It’s a cold and wet place… gray skies, dirty water… lots of trash and busted things. Some areas I’ve been to are borderline respectable, the Capitol for instance. But most of the outlying holt villages are slums. I grew up, not really knowing any better, but as I saw more of the world I realized how horrid the villages were. Some of the older people would tell me passed down stories about how things used to be back before the Rothaki made planetfall, but it all sounded like make believe.”
As he spoke, it was like he drew a dark curtain across her mind with the images he wove. It was hard for her to ignore the sorrow and dread she felt coming off this man. And she thought it was still in a way her home he was describing. Imagining it in ruins… hurt. Moreso because she knew Mekon had been devastated in the past, in her time as well as his. And Vilk lived through it. Her overall unease and discomfort with his existence shifted more and more into pity.
“You know, if we can’t figure out how to send you back to your reality, or you don’t want to go, the CCA could grant you asylum. You could stay here.”
“Hunh.” He put another bite into his mouth. “Really?”
“The law would allow for it. I would have to get the Commander to approve, though I don’t see why she would object.”
“That’s good. Mmph, this is good. You know, something I can’t stop thinking about, you look so familiar. I swear I’ve seen you before.”
There it was, she knew that was coming. Vilk may have had that same, internal feeling of something being off that she had. It seemed unavoidable really.
“I bet you have. Though I’m sure I look a lot different in my reality than in yours. I would barely be recognizable honestly.”
Inki wasn’t sure how to tell Vilk how they were connected, how he would react, or even if she should. Did it matter, she wondered? Would telling him break his trust in a way, smash his world view? He barely seemed to be able to believe this world was real at times. Would he even believe her? Why was she dancing around this anyways, she wondered. She had an inkling of a thought that had formed in her head when she first saw Vilk, and it was an itch in her head even now she realized. She wanted to know if he felt the same way she did. If he was born in the wrong body too. Was that a selfish thought, she wondered?
“You’re being awfully cryptic sounding.”
“I mean I’m not the same person I was born as, I’m trans.”
“What’s that mean? I’m not familiar with the term.” He spoke with his mouth full, seemingly half paying attention.
“It means I’ve transitioned-” As she spoke she talked with her hands, moving them from one side of her plate to the other to emphasize her point. “-from a man to a woman. To put it bluntly.”
“What?” Vilk coughed and sputtered, nearly choking on his food. “You’re a man?” He practically yelped, mouth hanging open, his eyes going quickly from Inki’s face to her chest and back again as she kept a straight face but reeled some internally.
“What? No, I’m not a man.” Inki half scoffed back. “Well I’m not male anymore.”
“But you, you...” Vilk blinked, and Inki studied his reaction. It was a mixture between shock, confusion, and what she realized was aggravation. “You’re a woman.”
“Thanks.”
“But, I...” The way his eyes and mouth moved as he struggled for words told her a lot, and his hands began to fidget with the fork he held. “...why? Aren’t you in a relationship with that doctor, a woman? I saw how you two acted around each other. Why didn’t you stay a guy?”
“Well first off, that relationship happened after I transitioned. It’s not a sex thing, it’s more like an identity thing. I didn’t become a woman just to fondle women. I could have done that whenever. And second… it's complicated.” Inki picked up her cup and looked at the condensation forming on the outside of it as she looked for words. “It wasn’t some spur of the moment thing I did. Before I transitioned, I felt listless. Anxious. Sad. I felt like I was wrong somehow, like my body didn’t feel real to me. Like I was on the outside looking in. Naturally I was young and I didn’t know how to process these feelings at all, I acted out a lot, I caused trouble, I felt like I wasn’t living my life so I just didn’t care whether I lived or died for a while. The only reprieve I got was errant daydreams where I pretended I was someone else.”
Inki glanced at him briefly as she spoke. There was a distant look in Vilk’s eyes, and Inki wondered if he felt that. It was a subtle look of familiar, empathic sorrow, something that cut through his defensive posturing and vague combative nature.
“It’s called dysphoria I think. Though I am no medical expert so I couldn’t tell you for sure.” Vilk watched her quietly as she spoke, his eyes breaking contact with hers as he seemed to just stare blankly at her in thought. “Where there is a distinct disconnect between the body and the mind or spirit. For the longest time I felt like I was… being forced to only use my left hand. And after a while, I discovered there was another hand I could use. One that felt like it actually worked. If that makes sense.”
“So it… you just knew something was wrong?” He frowned at her, not sounding like he believed her at all. Maybe she was wrong about him.
“Some people just get built differently. I felt wrong. When I was a teenager I think I realized what it was that I was missing in my life, what was wrong with me. So I made a hard choice.” Inki placed her cup back down after she took a sip. Vilk searched for words and reasoning across from her. “And after I transitioned I began to feel confidence, peace, and just like more of a person. I wasn’t festering in someone else’s body anymore.”
“But I don’t understand. If you wanted to be a girl, why aren’t you more…” As he spoke, he awkwardly drew a circle in the air with his fork. “Well feminine?”
“I’m allowed to be how I want to be. I’m Inki and I act like it. So I’m a tomboy who likes cooking and martial arts.” She shrugged and smiled. “Being masculine or feminine has nothing to do with being trans. Not for me anyways.”
“Do you have, um...” Inki turned and locked eyes with him. She knew what was coming and really didn’t want to hear him ask it, but she knew what was coming.
“No, I don’t have any male anatomy if that’s what you were going to ask.” She leaned in and smiled in a somewhat scoffing manner. “Though that should only matter to whoever is in the body, hmm? Besides. I’ve been privileged with a chromosome edit and all kinds of HRT and other surgical procedures to give me this body. Not everyone who is trans has the means or position to become who they feel comfortable being. Some people don’t want to go as far as I did. In the end it’s their business. We can’t choose how we’re made, but we can choose what we make ourselves into. Honestly I think that’s pretty cool. I’m glad I wasn’t born two thousand years ago when we didn’t have all this medical knowhow.”
“Hunh.” Vilk picked up one of his last bites of food and stuffed it into his mouth. “Well forgive me if I sound rude but doesn’t that seem a bit excessive to do that to your body?”
“What? No!” She leaned back in her chair as she spoke, carefully controlling the tone of her voice as she felt herself getting combative. “It’s not excessive, it kept me alive, it let me actually live my life, I wasn’t stuck sitting around being miserable. Why do you even care?”
“I don’t know!” He shrugged and let his fork clatter across his plate as he dropped it. “It sounds ridiculous. You’re a bit fucking extreme if you’re even telling the truth.”
“If I’m telling the truth?” Inki said flatly. “Now I’m reminded why I don’t talk to people about this.”
“Why did they have to give me the weirdest officer they had...”
A twitch of anger shot through Inki. She wanted to speak out and voice her aggravation, she almost did too. Her stern professionalism reined her in, and with a sharp inhale she calmed herself some.
“This was obviously a mistake.” Inki’s voice trailed off into a mutter as the wind was knocked out of her sails.
She didn’t know what she expected. Not this. This kind of reaction had crossed her mind as a possibility, one she was really hoping against. Inki grumbled to herself, mentally. But the lingering embarrassment and frustration of hearing her duplicate say these things and act like this…
Oof, she thought. Just oof.
Inki pulled out her communicator. “We’re done here. Ensign Kelso, pick up Vilk and return him to sickbay.”