Legend of the Rat-King
Part two: Passage
"May the Fortunes smile on you today.", said the hulking Hamsa officer at the entrance to the docks. The officer's presence was a physical test of the entrant, his 2.5 Meter bio-enhanced frame was a towering presence, and over his armor hung the disembodied hand of a Jovian, nature's own rendition of the Hamsa sign. His hard, steel-blue eyes probed my features.
"By the grace of God, and the Emperor!", was my pre-ordained response, delivered with full zeal. If you weren't enthusiastic enough with the response, it could lead to greater scrutiny. That is how interactions with one's superiors are conducted here in the Holy Empire of Man.
"Name", said the officer (more a command than a question). "Samarkius Exworth", I sheepishly replied. The name its self is condemnation enough of its bearer. There are two great clans of Humans always getting extra scrutiny, and harsher treatment these days. The Exworths are comprised of anybody convicted of a minor heresy or mild sedition. The Empire literally changes your name, and it is passed on down in the family. My grandparents (the same who bequeathed Howard to me), had been minor nobility, until they were discovered to have sympathies with the ancient Cult of Troniac. I'll admit I harbor some of the same, especially since the robots in my life have all been good to me. Howard, in particular has been a constant and valuable companion. The other clan, that goes by the name of Unman, are composed of anybody considered to be an active enemy of the state, and things are much worse for them.
"Destination", he commanded, his gaze and manner having grown considerably colder. "Berwynne's Reach", I said, holding up my hand-media viewer, displaying the credential from the station's lord, giving his permission for my departure. The officer scanned my viewer, checking it against his list.
"What is the purpose of your journey?", asked the Hamsa man, searching for clues as to my guilt for some as yet undiscovered crime. "I hope to join the crew of a pirate hunter, so that I can earn my name." The guard smiled now. "A noble cause. You understand that by leaving the bounds of the empire you are leaving behind the worldly protection of the Emperor, and that you may be subject to the unwholesome influences of alien beings, heretics, mutants, and other unknown perils of the outside world?" This was a standard disclaimer that had been so long been encoded in imperial statute that many generations of imperial subjects had memorized it word for word.
"I do."
"Do you swear and affirm that you will remain faithful and obedient to the Emperor and all of his commands?"
"I do."
There followed a long, awkward moment, where the officer was clearly mulling over what he might do with me. An officer of the Hamsa has wide discretion in how he deals with an Exworth, but it seemed he must have had other business to attend to because he eventually said "You are free to pass."
"Thank you, sir." was all I could muster.
Howard and I got on the next flight to Berwynne's Reach, an ancient Aurora-class passenger shuttle piloted by an Edenite whose features had been mostly sculpted into those of a grey wolf, except for his right eye, which had been replaced with a rather crude-looking bionic model. "Everybody, strap into your seats, we're about to depart for Berwynne's Reach.", he announced.
The ship did not have a gravity system (nobody has that kind of money nowadays), so I floated over to my seat, and Howard magnetized himself to the floor next to it. The inside of the ship was slightly grimy. There were no windows, except for the screens built into the walls by each row of seats. Half of these showed the scene outside, and the others displayed advertisements. The cabin had a slight smell of cleaning products, giving it a vacant feeling. This was enhanced by the small number of passengers. There were a trio of Bravaxians two rows up, chatting avidly. I can't imagine they had a comfortable passage, as they had to basically roll over and arch their backs in order to sit down, their tentacles floating about aimlessly. A lone Cielioid sat in the back, quietly reading something, its inhuman eyes seemingly motionless as it took in a magazine.
As we pulled away from the station, I decided it would be a good moment to contact my family and friends to let them know I was going on another journey. I folded my hand-media viewer into augmented reality mode, and placed it over my eyes and ears.
The passage was uneventful, and thankfully short, most of the distance being covered inside Berwynne's Rift, a rip in the fabric of space created long ago by an asymmetrical supernova that leads from a point in space near the Paradise System (where Serenity Station is), to the outskirts of Berwynne's Reach, an impressive 5,000 light-years distant, out in the middle of
the Sagittarius Gap.
I managed to get some needed sleep as the light-years sped past, and in just a few hours, we emerged from the rift.
