Fleetmarshall Yolan Ser: Mind Your Business
Robin Hopper
((Outside Hovan Military Command Center))
The United Federation of Planets. Yolan had almost gotten a chuckle out of that, when the initial report crossed his desk. What planets? They had one colony world with several hundred settlers on it and a single lone space station. Sure, they made claim to hundreds of other worlds on the other side of the galaxy – but, assuming that was true and not some inflated figure – what were they doing here, in the Hovans’ neck of the tunnel? It was imprudent and meddlesome at best, and more likely insidious and invasive.
It was wise, he thought, that the civilian leaders of the People’s Assembly had listened to the Military’s advice when they were first contacted by this ‘Federation’: Ignore them. Ignore them and keep on ignoring them until they go away and leave us alone. Our affairs are none of their business – that’s what he’d said. Of course, the pesky snoopers had insisted on visiting anyways – proving they had no interest in taking “no” for an answer – and now the Hovans were forced into this unwanted and, frankly, provoked diplomatic gesture of conversation.
As he stepped out of the transport gyrosphere that had rolled him to the meeting place, he adjusted his grey-and-white uniform to sit straight and rigid. His wife, Milna, had fussed over him before he left, ensuring his headfur was neatly combed, his moustache auspiciously quaffed, and that his uniform was pressed and decorated with every little trinket he had earned in his long career. He felt like a young officer again, prepared for the Fleetmarshall’s inspection… Only he was the Fleetmarshall now, and the grey strands that peppered his fur spoke to his long and storied career.
Approaching the offices, he was mildly surprised to see the Federation’s officers already awaiting him. oO My, they are eager, Oo he judged silently. He could hear them speaking, but the words were indiscernible until he drew close.
Nevark: ((Partial)) …reserve any judgement until we have the facts?
One of them – the leader, he surmised from the stern look she gave the others, quieting them – stepped forward as he approached. He eyed her uniform, black mostly with yellow atop her narrow shoulders, clashing garishly (he thought) with her pale hairless face. Most disturbing. The others were no better, in black and blue, with similarly shorn-looking features. He couldn’t help but imagine them as adult-sized pups before their coats grew in. Awful.
Ser: ::Tersely:: Fleetmarshall Yolan Ser. It is my distinction to represent the Hovan Military Command in this… congregation.
Iko: A pleasure to meet you.
The leader bared her teeth at him whilst greeting him pleasantly. A veiled threat, perhaps, or just an unusual seemingly-paradoxical custom? It was things like this that made Yolan so undisposed towards contacting alien species. One could never be sure of their intentions…
Iko: I am Lieutenant Commander Iko, and this is Lieutenant Nevark and Chief Petty Officer Barberra.
The leader, Iko, relaxed her tense posture. Yolan did not relax. His beady eyes shifted from her features to the other two officers flanking her.
Nevark: It is a pleasure to meet you. I am a Counsellor.
Barberra: Hello, Sir. I mean, Ser, Sir. I mean-- Hello. I am a Science Officer.
Ser: Hmm. That’s curious.
He spoke with a decidedly un-curious tone as he looked between the counselor and science officer. He found it unusual that a military organisation should employ mental therapists and laboratory specialists. Surely, such a lack of focus would lead to undisciplined and irregular decisions.
Ser: I hope you understand that it is my duty to inquire about your intentions in coming to our star system..? We do not receive many visitors.
Iko: We are here to establish relations with your people. I believe there were attempts at communication before, but with your neighbour, the Uwezo's, development of Warp, our Ambassador thought it prudent to meet properly.
Nevark: Personally I look forward to learning more about your culture and how you envision your future with your neighbours' development of Warp.
Yolan cleared his throat abruptly several times in discomfort. The topic of the Uwezo’s pending foray into interstellar travel was a particular sticking point of late. A source of great consternation for the Hovan Military Command, and the subject of many heated arguments between the weak-willed and optimistically-minded members of certain political factions and the more sensible and experienced who saw it for the threat that it was.
Barberra: And to understand your warp capability. Does your military arm have a science discipline?
Ser: It does. Though it is limited in scope to research on and development of our defensive capabilities. oO We certainly wouldn’t have invited them along to this meeting. Oo The nature of our planet demands rigorous attention to detail. Our scientists and engineers are held to the highest standard. It is why we find the Uwezo’s rapid and reckless approach to warp development so troubling.
He sighed, a guttural sound almost like a soft growl emanating from his throat.
Ser: And why are not overfond of visitors.
The Federation officers replied with reassurances. Reassurances that Yolan was not sure could be trusted.
Nevark: I am sure we all have plenty to learn from each other. Everywhere has their own way of operating.
Barberra: We were just wondering if we could come inside your facility, instead of standing out here? Commander Iko is allergic to the cold.
The Fleetmarshall’s beady eyes blinked and his nostrils flared, twitching his moustache. oO Allergic to the cold? Surely not. And besides, it’s a perfectly comfortable temperature out here. Is this some sort of attempt at levity? Oo He found it most unsettling that the Federation military’s scientist was making obtuse jokes… oO Then again, they are without fur… Oo he considered.
Ser: Of course. We will go inside. Stay close to me and do not deviate. Your clearances are extremely limited and any attempt to stray from the group without permission will be seen as a hostile act.
He meant this in as generous a manner as possible. While he had his doubts about this United Federation of Planets, they had not yet indicated aggression… Merely, a difficult-to-comprehend zeal for contact. Even unwanted contact. His warning was genuine and intended to keep them from turning a tense situation into an ugly conflict.
Yolan turned and began walking towards the primary entrance of the facility which housed the local branch of the Hovan Military Command. It was a nerve centre of sorts, one of several scattered strategically across the planet’s surface that formed a unified grid of sensors, watchposts, and military batteries which forced its construction into one of the naturally-forming stepped pyramids of minerals above the thick surface ice.
The structure itself was made of hardened materials forged and cold-welded in vacuum chambers – the only safe way to do so on a planet with such high concentrations of methane in its atmosphere. Even in their cities under the ice, which acted as a sort of natural sink for the methane leaving a more hospitable environment below, they took few risks. Open flames and sparks were banned.
Ser: This way. ::Indicating the main door:: I have been directed to show you our strategic operations facility.
Nevark: We appreciate that you may wish to confirm some further details with us first.
He paused, turning to look at the Federation Officers again with more scrutiny. It was true, there were many details he would like to question them on before inviting them into one of their most sensitive facilities. But, for now, at least the Military Command still took its orders from civilian leaders within the People’s Assembly.
Iko: Response
Barberra: ::Gesturing to tricorder:: This is a standard Starfleet issue tricorder. I’ve been making scans of the surrounding environment and the building while we’ve been waiting. You have a unique sensor system that the Federation hasn’t exactly seen before.
Nevark: I am sure you may have conducted scans of your own to understand more about us.
Ser: Of course. And our scans inform us that your scans cannot penetrate the layers of shielding and damping employed in the construction of our base of operations… Otherwise we would likely not be having this conversation. We take great offense to others sticking their snouts where they don’t belong.
Again, said in genuine warning.
Ser: I’m sure one of our researchers would be interested in an exchange of non-sensitive data regarding our sensor capabilities once our initial business is concluded. Now, follow me, please.
Four guards stood by the entrance in similar grey uniforms to Ser’s. As he approached, they stiffened, and raised their palms up beside their faces in salute. (Looking to the Starfleeters almost like they were all wanting to ask a question). Yolan nodded to them and they each inserted a key-shaped device into a receptacle. Once all four keys were inserted, the door began to slide open.
Iko/Barberra/Nevark: Response
((Inside Hovan Military Command Center))
Leading them in, Yolan pointed to various items of interest as he spoke.
Ser: This is our communications server hub. It operates using fibreoptic channels bored through the planet’s ice pack. It allows for near instantaneous communication with all other military centres on Hova’s surface… Nothing slips by us without being detected and communicated to all units near-simultaneously.
Iko/Barberra/Nevark: Response
He turned to face them, pausing to speak, as his physiology made him unable to turn and look over his shoulder.
Ser: Your initial communications were not met with a welcome invitation, yet you’ve persisted. ::Pointing:: It is also where we monitor the sublight communications of our stellar neighbors, the Uwezo. As a matter of fact, I served for two decades as the Superintendent of Interstellar Monitoring for two decades prior to my promotion to Marshall and eventually Fleet Marshall.
A fact which the various baubles pinned to his uniform attested.
Iko/Barberra/Nevark: Response