Yesterday’s piece is here.
Copyright J.B. Norman
Kathryn, Dunstella, and Amaranatha make their way down the Dolphin’s loading ramp, where a customs crew – a sharply dressed female Zarq officer accompanied by two chrome security robots.
“Please present for identification for verification,” the blue alien asks.
Kathryn reaches to produce the ID cards for her and her sister, which display holographic images as the customs officer inspects them.
Amarantha meanwhile, pulls back her sleeve and presents her wrist, allowing the officer to scan the elaborate tattoo-like design on her wrist. It’s not a tattoo, though. The Alvaraeans, especially from noble families like Amarantha, take their genealogies so seriously that every Alvaraean has the actual skin pigmentation modified and encoded with exhaustive amounts of information that are invisible to the naked eye but able to be read by scanners.
“Your identities are confirmed,” the blue alien woman notes. “Anything to declare?”
“No,” Kathryn answers.
“Within the past six Galactic Standard months, have you visited any planets, planetoids, stations, or other locales indicated on the Ring Station’s restricted list.”
“No.”
“Purpose of visit?”
“Business, I guess?” Kathryn says uncertainly. “I’m looking for a part they want at some hotel on Ledu. We’re going to the scrap-mongers, but we don’t plan on staying long.”
And, last question. Are you carrying weapons? Stations regulations allow for up to three small arms, provided the regulations of the Compact of Tanegashima IX are observed.”
“Quantum MagBow,” Kat says. She turns around to show where it’s strapped to her back.
“BrightStar Stun Pistol in a hip holster.”
She touches her belt.
“Astrochalcum Hypersonic Dagger in my left boot.”
She bends to pull the hilt clear from her boot.
“I’ll need to scan those, too,” the customs officer tells her.
“I just kick people!” Dunstella interjects.
“Your weapons have been logged,” the Zarq woman announces, returning Kathryn’s armaments to her. “Proportional self-defence is permitted in such circumstances as it may be necessary. Acts of unprovoked violence or other flagrant criminality will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of Ring Station regulations.”
“Noted,” Kathryn says.
“Question,” Dunstella says, shoving her arm into the air.
The Zarq customs officer looks down at her.
“Can we still hit people with chairs?” Dunstella asks.
“I’m sorry?”
“No, that’s okay,” Dunstella continues. “I just want to know if, like, hitting somebody with a chair still counts as unprovoked whatever. ‘Cause, last time, we were in one of the cafeterias, and there were these big bad guys, with, like, huge beards, and Kathryn just straight up—”
Kathryn clamps her hand over her sister’s mouth before she can say anything else incriminating.
“I, uh,” she mutters sheepishly to the Zarq woman. “There’s a file. Look, the security officers said I didn’t have anything to worry about. Those Vikingian Astro-Raiders came at me! It was self-defence! They’d been mugging people for weeks! The station’s Executive Board gave me a commendation for it!”
“Ah,” the blue alien notes, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards in a faint smile. “I thought your name looked familiar when I scanned your ID.”
Now, the Oikomene Galaxy probably shouldn’t have a planet called Tanegashima IX, given that Tanegashima is in Japan. However, given that I am from Earth, it’s inevitable that I communicate largely in Earth-centric language and a treaty about weapons regulations is a reference to the fact that in real life, “Tanegashima” refers to the early muskets introduce into Japan via the eponymous island.
Also, I like the idea of a species being so concerned with tracing genealogies that they literally encode the information on themselves, but I don’t think I like how I phrased how Amarantha’s ID mark …thing works, so I’m definitely going to go back and rework that when I’m turning this into a proper, well-thought-out story.
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