Canopus Station
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The Bad Thing Commeth

Posted on Wed Dec 23rd, 2020 @ 3:52pm by The Narrator & Lieutenant Commander Meilin Jiang & Lieutenant Commander Amie Cerys & Senior Chief Petty Officer Sharona Deluna

Mission: S2:3: Snow Drift
Location: Canopus Station, Immigration
Timeline: 3.30AM

The security officer, a Lieutenant JG Kurita according to the name tag on her uniform, waited at the turbolift lobby for the two members of the high authority she'd needed to call. Intelligence for the reason of 'weird bollocks' and a potential hazard to the station and task force. And the aide to the Station Administrator because Kurita wanted to retire one day to an M-class world and not an asteroid, and this was the sort of oddity that tended to stall careers.

Terminally.

She began to tap her heels, looking at the chrono on the wall wondering what was taking so long.

3:30...why 3:30? And in the morning no less. Amie had been back for a time and was honestly enjoying just paperwork instead of having to babysit Bob. Not that he was all that strange, but she needed a break. Why this couldn't wait until a reasonable hour was beyond her. So, she showed up where she was told to: the Immigration area, and glanced around...not enjoying how quiet it was.

Sharona headed down the corridor with a slightly annoyed look on her beautiful face, but she had a mission to complete regardless of the time and wondered what manner of weird bollocks was the matter.

"Sir, Chief," Kurita said as both called for parties arrived. She straightened her uniform and gestured towards one of the holding areas where would-be travellers to Canopus Station could be processed and recorded. "Sorry for the late-night...well I guess its more like early morning now, call. But they were demanding to talk to someone in authority from the command crew."

She waved her wrist over the door sensor, unlocking the heavy doors that began to slide open.

"They arrived from one of the Space Mining Guild vessels, a ship registered out of the Gorn Hegemony. File work says they are legit, but given the Hegemony isn't part of the Federation..." Kurita nodded at Aime. She then looked at Sharona. "And...well you'll see in a moment."

The doors opened, and voices could be heard having what politely could be called a spirited discussion. A squad of station security officers were there, keeping a cordon against the largest Gorn any of them had ever seen. He was dressed in a tailored business suit, because no way in seven hells did he buy off the rack, turned his reptilian gaze upon the fresh meat.

"Are you the two warmbloods I have to shout at to get anything done here?" he growled in shockingly well-articulated Federation standard. "I've been stuck here for two hours, two hours in which my crew could be wrecking my ship and ruining the profit's this venture to Messier 4 will net me! I will be demanding restitutions from your Starfleet and filing with the Gorn ambassador to your Federation of Planets for this insult!"

"Easy, easy," Amie stated with a soft sigh. "Please do realize, it is when most people are sleeping, so we were not expecting anyone until later. I apologize you had to wait." She looked over at Sharona and shrugged slightly. "If anything happens to your cargo we will certainly look into it. Now, please, what did you wish to see us about?"

Sharona eyed the huge Gorn and raised an eyebrow at its perfect Standard. "What exactly is it that you require?"

"To be treated with the respect due me," the Gorn growled. It was the sort of sound that wormed its way into the ears and alighted upon that innate survival instinct most species developed before nuclear fission. 'Fuck me, Carl, that's a dragon! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!'. Alas, so many Carls did not live to pass on their genetic heritage. "I thought this station was commanded by a Captain? An mammal by the name Ingham? Why is he not here? I demanded to speak to an authority!"

"I explained-," Kurita began to say.

"Silence," the Gorn said, raising a clawed hand. "It is as the Klingons say, if words were as water your Federation would drown the stars. I am here to discharge a transportation contract, to assign over my cargo to the highest-ranking officer of the Federation administration on this station on behalf of the Saurian Matriarchy. Then I can return to my ship, make sure my first mate hasn't set fire to the air the imbecile breathes, and begin filing my grievances for this affrontery."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Amie shook her head, "Right now, at 0330 hours, you get to deal with us. I'm the chief intelligence officer, and can handle your request."

"Fine," the gorn in the business suit said, turning his head over his shoulder and letting out a muted chuffing bark in his native tongue. "Then I hand over my cargo to you. May you suffer for all that you have done to sully my opinion of your smoothed kind."

He waved his hand at Amie and Sharona, the odd gesticulation of his hand no doubt a Gorn hand gesture of ill-meaning and retreated back towards the docking and debarkation area...

...right past a group of a dozen or more humanoid's in hooded robes. They walked in solemn syncopated footsteps, shoulders swaying in time. Their hands were held together, the sleeves of their robes obscuring their digits. And then came the smell.

It was earthy.
With a hint of dustiness to it.
And underlying that was the sickly sweet stench of rotting meat.
And oddly enough a touch of mint?

"It isssssss mosssst fortuitoussssss that it issss two femalessss who greet usss upon the cusssp of our journiesss end," the lead hooded robed figure said with an oddly sibilant hiss to his speech. He then shook out his robed sleeves, revealing delicately scaled claws, and threw back his hood to reveal a Saurian's visage. Where a Gorn looked like a Bearded Dragon on steroids, a Saurian might be considered a gecko who had gotten a shake weight. And this one had taken the shake weight and face paint package.

"It is a pleasure to meet two females who are here to greet us. Aspects of the Brood Mother on our path to the promised land!"

The other monks all pulled their hoods back, revealing they were to a one Saurians, and let out a roaring sound of jubilant glee.

"YYYYAAAAASSSSSS!!!!"

It wasn't the smell that got to her. It wasn't even their appearance that made her twitch her pointed ears. It was the sibilant cry that put her senses on red alert and she wondered if she could try to use The Knack on them, or hit her combadge and call for Security.

"Security!" Sharona found herself saying as she tapped her combadge and looked for the young female Lieutenant JG who had met them here.

"Sssecurity?!" one of the Saurians hissed. "Are there dread foes about? On our honor we shall sssmite them with the wrath and furious anger of the Bloody Teat of the Mother Goddess!"

"To arms!!' Their leader cried, and from under robes a variety of collapsable weapons appeared unfolding or springing out into poleaxes and halbards. Not a single ranged weapon, apart from one over-eager monk who threw their spear at a cleaning robot that would never romba again.

"All hail the Teatless One," another shouted in battle cry, "who despised mammalian flesh and birthed within us the Spirit of Scale Invictus!"

A toneless bellow of 'YAAAASSSSSS' arose from the monks, all of whom was armed, their scale clad heads twitching to and fro trying to find something to kill.

Amie's eyes went wide. She knew well enough how to defend herself, but what was going on? "Woah! Easy now! What are you doing?!" There was not a whole lot she could do since Sharona already called security. But maybe they could be talked down.

"Noooooooo!" Sharona bellowed back at them. "Put those things away right now! All of you! NOW!"

The monks slowed...and then like children told to stop making noises, they stopped and looked at one another. Their leader, or abbot, or divine heavenly father at arms, or whatever title he was given stepped forward to look at Sharona.

"But you have called us to battle?" he asked questioningly. "Why else would you call your arms men to you if not so we could join them in glorious bloody conflict?"

A muted, but still very enthusiastic 'Yaaaaaassss' hissed out of the group at that.

"No! No battle! Put those things down right now!" Sharona demanded, pointing at their weapons.

The monks slowly lowered their weapons. One of them, seemingly put out by having to put away something as harmless as a halberd, threw at an empty corner in spite. This brought about a howl from the trio of cleaning bots that had gathered to mourn the loss of their fellow, who was now joined by another bisected robot.

The two survivors of the Great Dinosaur Rampage of 2389 wheeled away as fast as their 3 meters per second speed could take them.

As an anthropologist by original specialization, Meilin had an auto-alert with the immigration office to flag her in the event of potential cultural misunderstandings. Her former tenure in Security also helped her circumvent calls for them to ensure she could have a head start on any response team that might arrive.

The report was vague, but to Meilin's cultured ear the assessment was rather easy: only one group in the galaxy was known for its sibilant litany of YAAAAAAAASSSSS.

This was not going to be pretty or flattering.

"Glory to the Ragolar Brood," she called out as soon as she entered the enclosure. It was unwise to sneak up on these types. ".. and to the sacred scions of divine dragon-blood, to the ravagers of famine, to the hunters of dyspepsia, to the eviscerators of all cowards and oath-breakers." After her opening doxology, Meilin leaned forward into a front handspring flip that she landed with a curtsey. "I am Commander Meilin Jiang, and it is my humble mammalian honor to herald your arrival to Canopus Station."

The retinue of Saurian monks were astonished at the unexpected greeting. "You... How isss it you know the holy rites of Ragolar?"

Ignoring the question, Meilin allowed a faint smirk as she completed the introduction. She stood to one side and held up one fist as though addressing an invisible third party. "Tao. Life. Peace."

Their bulbous eyes bulging wide, the monks could only hiss another reverent, "Yaaaaassss..."

The leader, however, raised his fist just as Meilin had, though his words were different. "Glory! Honor! Sssurvival!"

Meilin nodded her assent. "Our values are compatible. We may feast together under a shared hearth. Welcome to Canopus Station." She then nodded at her fellow officers to continue as they had been.

Amie raised an eyebrow as she looked over at Jiang. "How..." she whispered and looked to Sharona. "Um, thanks," she finally said to Meilin, slightly confused. "I think I need to brush up on my cultures at some point." She then looked back to their guests. "We apologize for any misunderstandings. Not..all of us have knowledge of every culture."

"That iss why we have come to this place. To spread the word of the Brood Mother to all whether they want it nor not! Our's will be a glorious crusade to educate the masses," the leader said, and then gestured to two Saurian's at the back. "Kovar and Zort have a puppet show, so we can educate the little ones."

"Did you already clear this with Ingram before coming aboard?" Cerys wanted to swear in a few languages under her breath, but didn't for now. It was too early. "If not, we would have to check with him as to where you are able to set things up. But, you are not allowed to interfere with the station operations, no matter what."

All eyes, the slitted ones anyway, turned to look at Sharona and all to a one held up a printed flexi hidden under their robes. On it, programmed into the paper thing computer padd, was a picture of Sharona's face.

"She is the Castelan of the station, the one for the leader of this place places great trust!" The leader said, and clicked a clawed digit. One of the monks stepped forward, carrying a case full of flexi's. "We have made forms for you to read so that we can begin ministering to the masses."

"Yaaas," the form carrying monk said in a phlegmatic voice. "Vee kave maag manni coopies of viss voorm vork."

Eyes turning to Sharona, Amie sighed, "Enjoy I suppose?"

"I owe you," Sharona muttered as she stepped forward. "Just so you know, my department may have to require a bit of time to fully read and understand each of these forms. My aid, Helen Waite, will be able to help you with all your needs in the meantime, so please remember that if you need anything, to go Helen Waite."

"And keep your weapons sheathed," Meilin said. "This is a No Ravaging Zone."

"Drinking, next time we are both off duty for a bit, my treat," Amie muttered to Sharona as she took a step back, hoping to be able to leave without angering anyone and get maybe a tiny bit more sleep.

 

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