**Traffic control to X-fleet, new contact bearing one-one-five mark two-zero-four, new entry into the system at jump point two. EMS/transponder profile matches X-B6894.**
**This is dispatch, we’re receiving correspondence transmission from new contact. Overnale mail is being extracted for sorting. X-B718 is on the line and receiving.**
**X-B718 confirms receiving advancing correspondence. We are maneuvering to jump point one for delivery to Glisten.**
And so the kabuki dance that was the X-Boat network went through yet another cycle. An X-boat comes in, dumps off its mail, and the ongoing mail is transmitted to another waiting X-boat who then takes off for the next system on the line. And so on, six times every solar orbit of Overnale Prime.
From her well-worn bridge seat, Teagan Ryleigh played her part in the non-drama. Her posture was rigid and her eyes were as devoid of emotion as the sound of her monotone voice. “Tender six, maneuvering to intercept X-B6894.”
**Acknowledged, Tender Six.** was traffic control’s reply. **X-B1919 you are on the line.**
Each X-boat carried just enough fuel to get it to the next point on the network. The X-Boat tender itself was a framework of a ship designed to pick up X-boats at the jump point, refuel them, replace the pilot, and then take them to the line where they’d be queued for the next dispatch.
X-boat tenders could handle up to six boats simultaneously. The record for recovering and prepping a tender was just over seven minutes. Teagan beat it on her first day, but the praise for a job well done was lost on her. Instead it was logged and recorded along with everything else that had happened, nothing more or less significant than the diagnostics that she ran that day.
There was no need for hand-eye coordination in her piloting. The giant tender ship glided silently through space towards the incoming arrival. At Teagan’s unspoken commands, the thrusters fired sequentially, following a mathematical procession that established an axial rotation to match its target. Several minutes later X-B6894 was settling into the tender’s service bay.
“All hands, secure the boat and begin refueling. Tender six returning to station.”
The same words, the same actions, repeated infinitely with consistent precision by Scout Ryleigh. Boredom was never a factor.
A flash of emotion, quick as a mouse, scattered her ordered thoughts. Not concern, not surprise, but…there. Teagan turned and looked at the bridge’s starboard bulkhead. She didn’t feel it any longer, it was gone before she had a chance to think about it. But it, whatever “it” was, was over there.
Inquiries to the ship’s computer brought up a chart on her side monitor. Teagan used the navigation array to plot a best-guess course through space in the direction from which she observed the sensation. The computer chewed it for a couple of seconds and replied that it would be happy to comply but Overnale Prime was in the way and oh by the way what the hell are you talking about?
The sensation struck again. It was a great and overwhelming nag for attention, like someone with a bullhorn and a neon sign yelling, “Look at me!” It was there just long enough for her to sense it and then gone.
And it came from somewhere on Overnale Prime.
Teagan continued to focus her vacant eyed gaze on that spot, trying to recapture that splash of spirit that colored her existence in that fleeting moment. The empty was a state of being now, there was no longing or need for anything. But even in the empty that was her life, somewhere deep at her core she knew that there were bolder more vibrant colors to be found.
It was those moments that she felt the void within her, she couldn't place the feeling as loneliness or discontent, she only knew that something wasn't as right as it should be. And when that happened, she would run a diagnostic on herself and on her ship, log the results, and the vague reassurance that the coded results provided her, would tuck her tidily back into the empty void of emotions that was her life.
In an uncharacteristic change of routine, Teagan stood from her station and walked until she could move no further in the direction her instinctual beckon had come from. Minutes passed as she stared, unseeing at the wall and miles of space that separated her from the splash of life.
Time passed as it always did, just another working piece of the jigsaw puzzle that was life. Teagan was unable to experience things with the full spectrum of emotions that she had once enjoyed, but her intelligence and base line respect for people remained. That very basic drive of respect had turned her existence into a constant struggle to adapt and learn, an effort to make people more comfortable so that her presence wouldn't unnerve them.
Respect. Goal Oriented. Determined. Some things didn't require the sizzle of emotions to sustain.
When her duty shift ended, Teagan immediately headed towards the shuttle station. Calculations were already running through her head, it would take exactly three days, two hours, 16 minutes and 2 seconds to reach Overnale Prime once the shuttle took off. There was a significant degree of error in both directions depending on the speed and myriad of obstacles and complications that they might encounter.
As Teagan ran into the occasional passerby she nodded her head, because that was appropriate. She scanned their badge and person, because her instincts demanded it. She remained silent and never intervened, because she knew that she wasn't welcome.
* * * * *
Almost exactly three days later, Teagan found herself in her commissioned air raft, outside the star port above Overnale Prime, in geosynchronous orbit. With endless patience and determination she continued to analyze and track that random thing that was tickling at her conscious. It was a calling of sorts and as she flew above the planet, she began to triangulate and narrow down the possible sources of the ellusive signal.
The process took time, but boredom eluded her. She was immune to it. Teagan flew her air/raft on a semi-orbital plane which combined with the planet's rotation to give her a wide exposure to both hemispheres. The "calling" - for that's what it was, more than a signal or a transmission - washed upon her subconscious shore with a regularity that had increased the closer she got to Overnale Prime. She'd note position and heading and continue on her way.
After the first twelve hours Teagan had it narrowed down to the eastern half of Scrabnos, the largest continent. After the next six hours, after she was able to narrow down her flight path, she had it more or less pinpointed.
The thing, whatever it was, was coming from the approximate location of the Overnale Prime downport. Her air/raft turned its nose and found a flight path to take her there.
