Entry 004 - Passengers

 Ketra was unimpressed. "Weird. Yes. That's one way you could describe it." Pausing, she added, "House Lacroix certainly has claws into aerospace on this planet. Is that how you cleared a boarding card?"

Seven held her gaze, but felt his ears fighting to rotate away, tipping downward in a universal sign of discomfort.
 "I am being deployed on emergency assignment to Kest-7." He spoke quietly, glancing around. When Ketra made no sign he added "The Drusk prime world."
 "Oh, I saw that on the feed – mid-cycle or so? But why you?"
When Seven didn't respond, Ketra turned and addressed a muscular fox leaning over a control surface. "Andrayne, you have command." He stood straight and nodded.

Ketra gestured for Seven to follow. "C'mon, we'll use the mission room." He stood and followed Ketra across the bridge and through a heavy doorway, into a room configured for briefing crew. The main screens displayed flight data and system metrics in rows of tranquil blue text. The door motored closed, and Ketra gestured for Seven to sit.
 "But you're twenty-two," protested Seven.
"And I represent House Toul" she retorted. You're no older than I am."

 "But I am faster." Seven finally took a seat, feeling his ears fold completely. He glanced away, teeth hooked over lower lip.
"It was a draw." She took a quick breath. "Why are they sending you?"
Seven shook his head, answering in a small voice. "The treaty established with the Drusk includes several modified variants of native plant species, particularly ril, which is a staple crop." He paused, and Ketra cocked her head.
 "Kest-7 is a significantly harsh environment – my work has been sequencing variants that can thrive without the specialized techniques they use. Less than nine percent of the entire planet is arable, if we could overcome that limitation ..."
 "But why you? We've traded with dozens of systems – plants are what we Foxes export."

"There is a mutation."
Ketra's smirk vanished, ears snapping upright. "That's impossible. It's been hundreds of cycles – our crops do not change!"
 Seven nodded, holding up his palms in a placating gesture. "It is impossible – I've been through the entire sequence multiple times, confirmed with the best sequence engineers in our House. Look,"he keyed his handheld, shunting data to the nearest screen. "I looked up your family's ranching accomplishments before our match, you've seen these yeah?" Staple Vultanye crop reference entires scrolled slowly past. Ketra nodded.
 "And this," he opened a paired entry, "is the Ril crop we developed alongside the Drusk engineers."
 Ketra peered at the screen. "Have you met them?"
"Yes, just once briefly" Seven said, pulling a face. "They are ah, intense." He rubbed his shoulder. "Their grip is really something else."
 "But these are identical," Ketra laughed.
"They are, look" Seven touched a key, and one of the images came to life, magnified cells busily doing plant cell things. The other image remained completely still, though it was obvious the frame was advancing.
 "All we know is the affected samples turn bright yellow, almost metallic, transforming at the cell level. There is no living sequence left – the structure remains inert."

Ketra stared at the display, saying nothing for several moments.
 "The Drusk have demanded all colony operations halted, and to interview me on planet."
"And House Lacroix agreed?" Ketra's face wrinkled, showing teeth.
 "The Drusk are threatening to rip our colony installation from it's foundations, and the treaty with it. They have implied it was ... intentional. Nearly an act of war."
 This time Ketra's ears fell. "But that not –" she broke off, searching for a phrase, "The Union has thousands of of settled projects, there is no chance that claim stands.
 "No, but with Kest-7 so close to our shipping lanes in that region,"
"They're throwing you off the cart," Ketra finished, now looking angry.
 "Not exactly, but the pressure on my House to resolve this is, well ..."

"All passengers we are approaching low-orbit, gravitational alignment in nine, eight, seven,"
Ketra cleared the screen. "I have to get back on the bridge. You're transferring to the orbital gate – there's a ship departing for Kest-7?"
 "Officially just delivering supplies, the Long Dancing Beam I think."
Ketra stopped fidgeting with a datacard. "I hope you'll be able to find ... something. But why'd you tell me?"
 Seven stood and shrugged, keying the door open. "Well. You did almost beat me. That earns a bit of trust in my House. And you asked, so ..."

"Commander Toul, please report to bridge central," came Andrayne's voice over the ship's address. Seven followed her back onto the bridge and resumed his seat, staring at the report he'd already been through a dozen times. There had to be some factor, a variable others had missed, and yet there was nothing.

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