Entry 003 - Kest
Kest was a strange system. Bright twin stars in wide orbits, largely non-viable planets save one, orbiting nearly between the two stars, and producing the local phenomena called Undying Sun. Standing on the surface of Kest-7 as the warm storm season gives way to summer, nights grow shorter and steadily disappear as the twin suns light the planetary surface nearly all season.
For the Dawn Fox Union this offered a tantalizing potential for a truly incredible growing season. But Kest-7 was not exactly a welcoming place ...
Ship's Manual
Brightest Empress of Summer Soul
Galactic Standardized Time
Time measurements, references and notation is presented as follows: Galactic Cycle > Stellar Orbit > System Orbit > Terrestrial Rotation > Subdivisions
Because of the extreme duration of galactic orbital motions, GST serves as true date/time chronological function. For example: noting time as observed from the North American continent of Earth would be written as: 1.0111 > 397 > 12722 > 227 > 17:05:01, or translated for our human readers,5:05:01 PM, August 15, 2721.
Typically about when humans gather for an evening meal.
Points in galactic time can also be notated as a simple decimal, 1.0111 0000 0000 2100 3030 0072 1022 7761 5312, with spaces added to increase readability. Few interstellar races care to use this numerical shorthand, and leave this to computational machines. Based on current measurements, the galactic body has completed 1.0111 rotations since standardized record-keeping became possible.
Next page ...
Siska stepped from the final ledge, landing with a heavy thump as her leg servos dissipated excess energy. Several nearby Drusk field hands nodded respectfully as she approached.
"You found it here as well?"
“Yes Landwarden," said the male, indicating a spot of shimmering yellow in the field of green. Neither Drusk made eye contact, as was customary for those of lower station. Siska made an irritated noise deep in her throat, striding toward the spot indicated. These ril fields were situated within the Pale Stairs, a natural formation of deep, terraced canyons, one of the few places on Kest sufficiently protected from the brutal summer heat to consistently support crop plants. And while the starchy cereal grain was a small part of the Drusk culinary menu, it primarily went to feed livestock. Siska bent and pulled a small rectangular knife from its sheath on her arm, the ceramic blade almost painfully white in bright sun.
"How many are there?" she asked, using the blade to pull the plant stock close without direct contact.
"Eleven confirmed Landwarden, as of the last hour."
“Sterilize, standard radius. Do it quickly." Siska severed the stalk gently, keeping the plant and buds intact. This she placed in a clear envelope, prominently marked XX – a universal sign for hazards. Held in the sunlight, the formerly green stalk was bright yellow, almost gold, as if the microscopic veins had been turned to liquid metal. Bent past tolerance, it broke and crumbled in several places, sparkling fragments catching the light as they moved. Siska stowed her sample and watched as additional field workers arrived with field gear. The pungent smell of incinerating crops rose with the wind. It had been nearly a month since the first "yellow mutant" had been found among the ril crop, and it was spreading fast.
“You found more?” a mature-looking Drusk quizzed as Siska slammed through the doors into the laboratory, flicking the envelope onto a clean table. His ears pointed toward Siska in polite attention.
“It’s in the lower canyons, we can assume the entire Stairs are affected.” She clicked her teeth together, shaking her head in an attempt to calm her mane. It remained at full attention. Instead, she pressed a fist between her brows.
“And I have nothing that will lift your day. Look,” he pointed to a map projected on the wall behind her. “The first sample we took from the grasslands up toward the pole.”
Siska growled again, fist still obscuring her brow. “And it’s already ... halfway across the continent!” She finished, slamming her fist into the wall, making the display jitter and distort. “Have we learned anything Pelcorian ?!”
“Yes, we did learn one thing,” the older Drusk gave Siska a an understanding look. “Here,” he retrieved the sample bag from the table and opened it, tapping the yellow stalk out onto his rugged palm.
“No, wait!” Siska gasped, horrified. “You’ll contam --”
“Landwarden.” The older Drusk’s lip curled, then relaxed, hiding his large canines. “It is safe, look here.” He deposited the crumbling stalk on a clear tray, and slid it into a nearby imager, spinning several dials to bring up a substantially magnified view. Pelcorian added a single drop of water to the sample, and magnified several more times, revealing the celluar structure of the stalk. The cells glittered strangely under the bright light, but were still and inert.
“Near-completely vitrified,” he said, indicating a cell. Even cut as it was, these should still be trying to maintain normal functions the plant needs, but now?”
Siska glared at the still image for several long moments. “You are absolutely sure?”
The older male stifled a laugh. “And risk our years and years of progress made here? Impossible! Samples showing signs are already too far gone, but it does not propagate this way. There must be another mechanism we have yet to find.”
“But still only the hybrid crops the Dawn Foxes were so eager to propagate?” Siska asked, tone implying she already knew.
Pelcorian hesitated a moment. “That we have observed. But without knowing what source this process has,” he indicated the magnified sample, “it could easily have spread already. The crop plants are variants of our native species, after all.”
“So they will fix it” Siska said, harsh finality in her voice. She turned and strode from the room, Pelcorian calling “but how will you accomplish this?”
But she was already out, striding across the open field toward the expansive low building that contained her private quarters. She closed the door, disconnected the external braces on her legs and hung them on the wall. She straightened, staring into the mirror, unmoving. Silent.
Seven purposefully did not glance around as he felt dozens of curious Toul foxes peer in his direction. Ketra had deftly blended her surprise and his unusual name into her final pre-flight calls, switching off the PA as she confirmed with the city’s launch controller.
“Main sequence start, liftoff in 15, 14,” she glanced toward Seven again she continued counting. A deep resonant hum grew in the background, becoming dominant as the subtle flicker in equilibrium let them know the ship was already airborne.
Seven glanced at one of the large displays scattered throughout the bridge section, indicating altitude, airspeed and rate of climb, showing they would reach the orbital platform fairly quick.
“Hey, you’re Lacroix,” said a bright voice. Seven finally glanced around, eyes meeting a young fox who’s ears barely came to his waist.
“Yeah, I’m House Lacroix.”
”How did you beat my sister? She’s the fastest fox I know!
”Seven’s tongue flicking briefly between teeth, not entirely sure how to proceed. Instead he asked, “What’s your name?
The little fox made a face, as if this was perhaps the silliest question ever. ”Lemonett Toul,” he said, holding up a small clawed hand, thumb and index finger extended. “I’m six.”
A hand Seven recognized came down on the little fox’s shoulder.
”Lemon, remember what your Ma said about guests?” Ketra glanced down at the small fox, who looked suddenly sly. He grinned and trotted away, glancing over his shoulder as he made his way towards the stairs.
Ketra clicked her teeth, rolling her eyes before returning her attention to Seven. “So,” she lowered her voice, “ah, what is so shockingly important that made you hitch a ride on a family ship?” She gestured vaguely toward the bridge. “You can’t be here just to gloat -- you didn’t even win.”
Seven forced his ears to remain upright as he held her gaze, silently cursing his singleminded father. ”It probably does look a bit odd, I guess ...”
Ketra merely raised her eyebrows, ears at attention.