2951-02-08 – Tales from the Inbox: The Sagittarian Nuisance

Nojus here again. I know I promised you all some answers as to what ship we’d be transferring to. Turns out we don’t have them. We’re still aboard Martikainen, and most of our vidcast equipment is still in stowage.

The reason for this seems to be that the vessel we’re being assigned to is currently out of Maribel on an operation. Duncan speculates this means we’re bound for a posting on a cruiser, though we aren’t aware of any major fleet units of any class that are outside the Maribel defensive perimeter at the moment.

My theory is that it means we’re going to be shunted onto one of the light carriers that are performing picket-station duty in the outer line of Farthing’s Chain systems, which in turn means that Admiral Venturi wants us journalist-types out of the way before she does something bold and risky. Looks like there’s been a general shakeup of the embed teams from all media companies, which is what I would expect if I’m right, which of course I am.

Today’s account comes from a civilian spacer operating in Sagittarius Gate – apparently there are still quite a few, despite the system’s rather hot conditions as regards the war. Nate, though, isn’t the problem this spacer wanted to complain about.


“No way you’re getting on my ship. Not in any creative hell.” Svetlana Cremonesi scowled down at the little figure which she’d just stopped from sneaking through the umbilical. The creature might have been, in other circumstances, almost adorable, with its large black eyes, small mouth at the end of a stubby muzzle, and quartet of round fur-tufted ears that topped its head like a satin crown. If it were classified as a non-sapient creature, its kind might have been prized as pets by wealthy socialites throughout the Core Worlds, but alas, much to Svetlana’s current disadvantage, the critter was of a species classified by Naval Survey as sapient, and by most everyone else as a Nuisance.

“But…” The Nuisance emitted a series of rapid, squeaky chirps which probably meant something in its own language. “But I want-”

“I want to put you out the airlock for trying.” Svetlana shook her head. “Get out of here. Go complain to the Aswo about how I was mean to you.”

The little creature scuttled off, its long whip-tail ramrod-straight behind itself as it went.

Svetlana watched it until it was out of sight, then watched in that direction a little longer. It hadn’t gone far, of course; a Nuisance that wanted something never really gave up on it. Rather than waiting to see its eyes peeking around some corner it thought would be unexpected, she crossed the threshold and sealed the hatch, muttering a curse against whichever moron had brought Nuisance to the Sagittarius Gate waystation. Once they were aboard, they couldn’t possibly be convinced to return to whatever noisome warren they hailed from, because they didn’t want to go. Unless they did, in which case they skulked around the hangars and docks in ones and twos until they managed to sneak aboard some vessel or other.

Svetlana wasn’t about to let her Tycho Spike become another victim of Nuisance. True, she generally only did two or three day-long supply runs out to the outer asteroid mining installations, after which she could enlist the mine crew to deal with the problem if she didn’t manage to catch and space it on her own, but the truth was, she didn’t want to have to put any of the little critters out the airlock. As troublesome as they were, they were theoretically capable of thoughts – however rarely they seemed to think – and they were, in the grand scheme of things, neither physically capable of hurting a human nor particularly interested in doing so. It was the unintended consequences of pursuing their wants that could be so dangerous.

As she made her way forward through Tycho Spike toward the cockpit, Svetlana’s comm pinged. With a glance at her wristcuff, she saw it was a channel request from Lieutenant Raul Donovan, the waystation’s Aswo. Few planetary colonies in the Reach needed a dedicated Alien Sapient Welfare Officer, and even fewer hab stations, but Sagittarius Gate wasn’t properly in the Reach, and it was something of a special case at any rate. At last count, survey had positively classified five new sapient species in the broad swath of the Sagittarius Frontier, and it surprised nobody that zero of them had good relations with the Incarnation. Excepting the Nuisance, Svetlana had seen a group of elfin, golden-skinned humanoids, some sort of colorful avian, and a trio of walking mountains that seemed entirely composed of scar tissue and bad attitude. Where their home-worlds were, she couldn’t say, and didn’t want to.

After letting Donovan’s channel request hang long enough for the chime to repeat twice more, Svetlana jammed her comms earpiece into her ear and accepted the request. “Kind of busy here. What do you need, Lieutenant?”

“It’s probably nothing, Miss Cremonesi, but I am being told that, ah…” Donovan sighed wearily, and in the emphatic misery of that sigh, Svetlana knew that the Nuisance she’d shooed away from her ship was there in his office at that very instant. Only a Nuisance could inspire that level of dismay. “Ah, you are a kidnapper, apparently.”

Svetlana chuckled. “Quite the reverse. No passengers on my ship, human or otherwise. Some critters just don’t take a damned hint.”

“And also that you threatened murder?”

Svetlana sighed. “Well yes, I did suggest that. And technically, it would be-”

“Entirely legal per the Law of the Spacelanes, Section 31, subsection 4, assuming the stowaway presented a danger to the ship or was unwilling to take orders from the skipper under way.” Donovan’s tone was tired and rote; he’d both heard and recited Section 31 dozens of times over the last few months. “And yet, I must formally discourage the use of this section with-”

“With sapients who are not well adjusted to our customs.” Svetlana finished his scripted warning. “How are those cultural assimilation classes going, by the way?”

“Oh, quite well.” Donovan didn’t bother to hide the gritted-teeth tone in his voice. No doubt trying to herd a few score Nuisance into a classroom when they all wanted to be elsewhere was the most entertaining part of his job for anyone privileged with access to the security monitors, and the most miserable part for Donovan himself.

“Good to hear from you, Lieutenant. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a departure window in ninety minutes. Can we cut this short?”

“Of course. If you could release the ah… person or persons confined? Perhaps you did not know that this person was aboard and accidentally locked them in a compartment?”

“Donovan, there’s nobody and certainly no Nuisance aboard my ship.” Svetlana had just accepted delivery of thirty-odd crates of high-strength drill components bound for MS-71 and a half-dozen refrigerated cases of pharmaceuticals for MS-112, and on both occasions she’d sealed the ship and swept the entire cargo bay and crew deck for unauthorized passengers, just in case. “Your little complainant there nearly wore out the hatch chime to get me to come open up. Everything was locked down.”

“Unfortunately, I must take this seriously. Until we are satisfied as to these allegations, your departure will not be permitted.”

“What? Donovan, I have a schedule-”

“I will be along with the station constabulary in five minutes, Miss Cremonesi. We’ll have to search the ship, and we’ll try to be done before your departure window.”

Before she could make any response, Donovan ended the channel. Svetlana thumped one fist against the bulkhead in frustration, then turned on her heel and went to the boarding hatch to await the search party. No doubt the mine operators would be happy to dock her pay over this nonsense. “Damned Nuisance.”