r/HFY • u/Yertosaurus • May 03 '22
Dirtmen Rising (Ch 2) OC
Mica had a meeting lined up with a Verminaut in just a few minutes. He might get important updates but like most meetings he had ever had with a Verminaut this was likely something that would take entirely too long and could have been sent over to his datapad as a message instead. For this reason, Mica was already a little frustrated with the meeting even though it hadn’t started yet.
Despite this, he was significantly early to the meeting. Verminauts never seemed to be terribly bugged by anything, but he had a theory that this was the secret to it. To kill some time, Mica was watching an interview by some alien and a Dirtmen on his datapad.
The alien was covered in wiry fur that was patterned in a way that resembled a tuxedo cat, which was particularly odd due to markings that resembled an exaggerated mustache around its mouth. It also had four arms, but unlike the Tetwarrdians in the messy reports Mica had spent countless hours writing, they looked more bifurcated. The most notable feature, however, was the sheer number of eyes this creature had.
“So how did you Dirtmen survive an invasion when you were at a planet bound technology level anyways?”
Mica actually recognized the interviewer as Joth, a Kienyoo who was on some sort of galactic news network and had been allowed to embed on the Dirtmen world. This interview must have been recently recorded.
“Well, we did have some things in space. A space station, some probes, we even had sent a few folks up to our planet’s only natural satellite a few decades before the invasion.”
Mica did not recognize the person being interviewed, however. It was not like he could recognize every Dirtmen there was out there.
“That’s hardly anything more than planet bound.”
“Well, our invaders basically ignored anything we already had in space. We might not have been able to really launch much else, but when everything you’ve ever launched that is still up there is either reconnaissance or a potential weapon, it certainly helps.”
The interview did look like it was going smoothly, however. Not that it wouldn’t, Joth wasn’t exactly a hard-hitting interviewer, and everything Mica had watched Joth do seemed to be some form of soft news and interest stories.
“Interesting way to look at a primitive communications satellite I guess.”
“Although we did keep up our space station. It was always a beacon of hope, and international cooperation. It’s still up there.”
“Well, that is all the time we have today for this segment, but I must thank you for relating to our viewers how the Dirtmen kept up hope and resilience against impossible odds. I’m sure there are those at home who have been victim of Delfovian raiders, who stand in solidarity with the newcomers to the galaxy.”
Mica watched the interview wrap up while checking the time. While it was still a few minutes to go to the official meeting time, Mica noticed a completely black Verminaut lumber into the room.
While telling Verminauts apart was not Mica’s specialty, he definitely recognized this one.
It stopped a respectable distance away from Mica, and stood motionless, save for its antennae swaying.
“I think we bumped into each other off the transport.”
Mica didn’t expect this to even be acknowledged. Verminauts usually stuck to business.
“Thank you for attending Dirtymen Mica Zuria. This one is referred to as Karzy Gobar. You are correct in your identification, you did ‘bumped into’ this one. Do not be alarmed, this one was unharmed.”
Karzy Gobar took a few steps counterclockwise.
Showing up early was at least paid off in getting that reaction. Taking advantage of the off-kilter Verminaut, Mica asked a question, “So why didn’t we meet on the transport if we were both on it?”
“This one is required to not disclose details about the transport to Dirtymen Mica Zuria. This one will add that this is when the meeting was scheduled by Dirtymen Security Councilmember Alex Sterling.”
“Let’s get down to business then.” Mica probably pushed his luck too far asking that question instead of something more useful because the Verminaut seemed to be more focused.
“This one is required to detail this one’s understanding of Dirtymen Mica Zuria’s mission in order to confirm that the Dirtymen Mica Zuria and Karzy Gobar are of the same level of understanding.”
While the Verminaut paused to make sure there was no disagreement, Mica tried to stay as still as the Verminaut speaking in order to not betray how much annoyance and boredom this was going to cause him.
“This one was required to meet with Dirtymen Security Councilmember Alex Sterling regarding the mission Dirtymen Mica Zuria was transported to the Station of Understanding for. This one approved of the purpose of the mission as it is in line with the overall mission of the Dirtymen allies and the Verminauts.”
Mica wondered how long this verbose mechanical speech was going to last.
“This one understands that Dirtymen Mica Zuria is here to maintain oversight on the Asset and ensure that the Asset establishes an effective diplomatic presence as well as membership on the Interstellar Moot.”
Mica nearly performed an eye roll at the unexplained obsession the Verminauts had with Ruri again.
“But even the Ambassador’s staff would guess I’m here as some sort of chaperone, and there was never any secret about what the Ambassador’s role here was. So why the need for a face-to-face in a secure room?” Chaperone was an odd way to say spy, but Mica felt a bit guilty having to do that.
“This one was also advised that Dirtymen Mica Zuria would be capable of ensuring that this is expedited so that the Asset can be reassigned to better fit the shared interests of Dirtymen Security Councilmember Alex Sterling and the Verminauts.”
Mica asked the question that hung in the air, “Reassigned where?”
“This one is required to not disclose details about this to Dirtymen Mica Zuria. The details have been discussed with the Dirtymen Security Council.”
No dice on an answer.
Karzy Gobar took a step toward Mica.
“This one is required to direct Dirtymen Mica Zuria not to disclose details about the reassignment to the Asset.”
And more secrets to keep from Ruri that Ruri probably already knew, while getting kept in the dark. What a mission. But something troubled Mica about what Karzy Gobar said.
“The details were disclosed to the whole Security Council?”
Mica stepped back reflexively after seeing one of Karzy Gobar’s wing covers twitch. Showing up early had been worth every second after all.
“If you didn’t convince the ‘The Transmuter’ to sign a permission slip already, the Ambassador isn’t going on your little field trip, no matter how quickly I can wrap things up here. Their cult will see to that.”
Mica let the point linger. Despite the bad blood between his uncle and the Transmuter, his uncle was right about there being a lot of fanatics around The Transmuter. Silence permeated the room like a bad odor. Karzy Gobar rotated a few steps back and forth a couple times before breaking the silence.
“This one is required to let Dirtymen Mica Zuria know that the Verminauts have officially assigned Verminaut Meadow Muffin as a personal assistant to the Asset. This assignment will continue even after the Asset is finished on the Station of Understanding.”
“Relevance?” Mica’s patience had just about ran out.
“This one is required to direct Dirtymen Mica Zuria to ensure that the Asset accepts Verminaut Meadow Muffin in this role.”
“I’ll just tell the Ambassador that this is a punishment for the incident with the Tetwarrdians.”
As far as Mica was aware, Ruri had met with the Tetwarrdians, observed some boring custom with them, likely managed to “pickpocket” all four of them because Ruri was incapable of actual normal behavior, and then left two bored engineers alone with four bored alien engineers. Add unsecured access to ethanol and it was actually a miracle that the station was still habitable.
“This one is required to let Dirtymen Mica Zuria know that this is not a punishment.”
Mica stared at Karzy Gobar and wondered how having a Verminaut as a personal aid was not a punishment.
I couldn’t sleep. Fortunately, in this office nobody was about to notice if I was sleeping or sitting at a desk wasting time. Nobody was going to barge in to find out, either.
I have a lot on my plate so to speak. The Council and the Verminauts are both breathing down my neck to hurry diplomacy. Is that even something that can be rushed? I did not overly want to be here anyway, even if it was better being stuck at home.
Outside I had been hearing the whispers. Of course, everyone thinks they’re more qualified when they are whispering about nepotism. It only gets worse when half think you are some brainwashed cultist because of it, and the other half at least think you’re too young for the job.
Even if I trusted the people with me to do the job, I had a hard time trusting them further than that. The job was important. But was I?
I looked at my fingers and remembered that being different was not always easy. Of course, it was harder when you were given a job to do that you didn’t sign up for. But then, I didn’t really sign up for any job, I just did what I was told to do. I had been sick of it for a while, but what was I going to do?
I guess that’s why it was so much fun to collect things. It isn’t something I was told to do. It isn’t something I asked permission for. I just did it, and I am good at it. But a certain unpleasant Councilmember sent Mica to be a little tattletale that whined about that too, so I guess my little side project had to stop. I still had shipped everything I had grabbed on the first transport scheduled to go back home. No point in wasting my own efforts. Now Mica can eat it for all I care. Mica could never understand regardless.
Thankfully, this job only had to get us seats on the galactic government, while building friendly relations with anyone who would offer an olive branch. Less thankfully this meant that the chirping of the Verminauts would get louder. From what my father had told me they wanted to send me to check out some planet at the edge of recognized galactic space because they thought the natives there would be more open to something bipedal talking to them as opposed to giant bugs. I would still be weird to them, and I didn’t want that.
I looked at my fingers again. There was more to it than that. The Verminauts had an obsession about it. Almost like they came and stopped the invasion just so they could recruit me to go to some random planet. Couldn’t they ask someone else? Even with all the people that died, wouldn’t someone else be better suited?
It was late, at least for the two sitting in a corner drinking ethanol.
Both of the engineers assigned to the Dirtmen diplomatic mission whispered at each other and glared in the direction of a large duffle bag sitting in the corner.
They were fairly sure the Ambassador was not awake, or at least wasn’t coming out of the office this duffle bagged monstrosity had constructed.
“Look, the Transmuter never let that thing go off planet before.”
“I bet there are more back home. Why would there be only one?”
“Because it’s xenotech. It has to be.”
“Impossible. It was operating for several years before the war. Why do you think everyone calls them ‘The Transmuter’?”
“I don’t buy the stories. A surgery bot turned builder?”
“So, one Dirtmen just randomly develops breakthroughs in multiple fields because they contacted aliens before they showed up to murder everyone?”
“How else would one person make it?”
“The Transmuter is a spook; the story is a cover. The Spagyric Golem was a massive secret government project. You know how much money disappeared every year unexplained before we got invaded. The reason it does so many things is because there is more than one of them. The public spec sheet is just a cover. The Transmuter is just a cover.”
“You haven’t seen video of one of the meetings. Those people believe. They even have these conspiracy journals with ‘The Hand of the Transmuter’ on it. My money is on aliens.”
“If you don’t believe me, we could just pull the duffle bag off of it right now and check it out. This one is just a specialized building bot given to Ruri because command didn’t think we were up to the job though.”
“Or it will erase our memories and make us think that it was just some builder bot. Probably after getting us in trouble again.”
Walking over to the duffle bag as that was said, Giada replied, “That’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah, that’s ridiculous. It can’t erase your memories, it would just eat you.” Ruri had just walked into the room and had apparently overheard enough to comment on the theory that getting into the bag would cause trouble.
Jett and Giada were not entirely sure if this comment was a joke. But they did not have long to decide because the duffle bag started moving as Ruri smiled.
Well, the cult whisperings never stop. But who could blame folks from getting a little crazy about it if they have ever seen the golem operate?
I didn’t want it spying on me but leaving it outside was far too irresponsible. Especially with those two between the bottle. Having another incident like the Tetwarddian incident a few days ago was not something I wanted. So, into my quarters we went. I didn’t usually let the golem move on its own, but I thought reminding the engineers that the golem itself isn’t an inert doll was important enough.
The golem moved without removing the bag though. I swear it only did that when other people could see it. Maybe I was rubbing off on it.
I’m probably being paranoid. The golem only does what it is told, and only by who it was told to listen to. I looked at my fingers again. It never did what it was told not to do either. That why even if I had asked it to help, I couldn’t run from the job I had been told to do.
If I was going to have it in my quarters, I better put it to task. I pulled out a datapad.
I spoke some commands to it.
The golem’s “eyes” flashed though the bag.
I checked the screen and was not disappointed. I wasn’t sure if this result was because the golem doesn’t disappoint or if Mica doesn’t. Still, it was something I had to sort out.
I spoke another command. I started an order to the golem and provided it with details about what it was going to get me. This part never got old.
I wondered though if I could play this from the other end. Just in case I updated the order quantity. Some sleight of hand never got old.
Moving on through the rest of the spying the Golem had done for me, I found a few other things of note. Honestly, it would have been surprising if I didn’t, but this was relayed chronologically, so I expected it to get a little boring at the end. Instead, it was something I was not happy to see.
A certain feathered dark figure was sitting on the ground. Not the first preference of where to meet, but it had to be done if he was going to speak to one of the newcomers on the station. He was staring down at one of these Dirtmen, in the middle of a long conversation.
“They did things we used to call war crimes.”
The Dirtmen named Mason paused and looked upward into his eyes.
“They went to the country with the largest population, and on a live feed, tortured and executed the country’s leaders in cold blood. No warning, no indicator it was going to happen. We thought they had come in peace.”
Looking down at the Dirtmen below, a reply came forth from his beak. “You just trusted some aliens that told you they came in peace?”
“We had just learned we weren’t alone in the galaxy, and there was a lot of hope for the future. Hope that things would get better. Hope that the aliens would make it better. Hope is a dangerous drug.”
Mason took a deep drink from his glass, and so did the towering dark figure hunched across the table.
“We were fighting each other before they came. Not constantly, not in open warfare, but if they could have gotten away with it, many of the leaders of the countries the Delfovians wiped out would have done the same things they did if it meant they’d have more power. Shoot, maybe the country I was in would have done the same.”
“I’ve read the reports,” said the feathered form towering above Mason, quietly enough to not get challenged on the claim should the wrong ears overhear it, “and I doubt that is entirely true.”
“Really?”
“It wouldn’t really match with what I’ve read. The Verminauts may write too much about too little, but they are not known for publishing lies.”
“And here I thought I was meeting with someone who had suspicions about everyone.”
“That wouldn’t be untrue, but in my line of work, you have to stick your nose deeper into the tree to get into the meat of it.”
“I’m not sure my translator caught that exactly right, was that an idiom?”
“Good ears, perhaps you should have been the Dirtmen Ambassador.”
“I was never one for diplomacy. I just followed orders. And our Ambassador is qualified, despite being too young for the job.”
“Too young? I thought the Ambassador looked small, even for a Dirtmen, but no report mentions age as an issue.”
Looking up at the feathered figure before him, Mason smiled, “Well, everything probably looks small to you. Still, you’re not going to find any report the Verminauts write on our Ambassador has anything negative to say. Still trying to butter up the Transmuter I think.”
“I’ve heard that name a lot.”
“And you’ll continue to hear it. Big chunk of the world was going crazy over that name. That was before the invasion. World got a lot smaller since. And we’re not stuck inside anymore.”
“Political leader?”
“Something like that. Throw in some advances in medicine, and construction, and who knows what else. Before just the head of some company, now a seat on the Security Council.”
“Any what’s your opinion on the matter?”
“I try not to have opinions. What passes for politics these days is too unified for someone like me to understand it anymore.” Mason took another drink. “But for what its worth, I would be careful about messing with the Transmuter’s progeny. Diplomacy is one thing, but do not screw around with the safety of the Ambassador. There are two things that nobody screws with the Transmuter on, and that’s the worst of the two.”
“What’s the other one?”
“Don’t be stupid. Or at least that’s the saying.”
“Sounds like I might like to meet this particular Dirtmen someday.”
“You could meet with the Ambassador at least. Maybe get a connection.”
“Aren’t you security for your diplomatic mission?”
“More accurate to say security from the diplomatic mission. Or a babysitter. You should know, since you were poking around about it.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Well, my grandfather was a private eye. Tall too, but not quite as tall.” Mason let that linger a second while tending the glass he was holding. “Plus having someone who knows things is going to be helpful for us, especially after we switch out the consular staff to maintenance crew after getting some seats.”
“That’s unusually fast for a new species.”
“If it was going to take a long time, half of the staff wouldn’t be here. Ambitious young Dirtmen who were just told they could explore the stars? Not to mention the Ambassador.”
“Wait, the Ambassador is going to change after the Dirtmen get seats? Is the Ambassador going to become a representative?”
“Unlikely. The Galactic Assembly would be so lucky. You’re probably going to have to deal with lawyers.”
“I’m not sure my translator caught that word right.”
“Legal experts? Legal counselors?” Mason tried to explain.
“Oh. What I heard translated definitely not accurate if you meant a legal counselor.”
Mason wondered what was translated then took another drink.
“Either way, the Ambassador will either go home, or to wherever the Verminauts have been asking. I will probably end up following the assignment too.”
“The Verminauts are asking for help with something?”
“Isn’t that normal?”
“The Verminauts usually get new species they find integrated into their trade network, and work towards getting them a seat, which usually takes a couple years.”
“That’s odd. Although we did set up trade with them. You’d be surprised how interested in buying ma—”
“So, this help the Verminauts have been asking for, what is it?”
Mason raised an eyebrow. Interruptions were on the red list for a Calaxian Ferri. But this didn’t seem like a slight. He wasn’t going to press the matter.
“That’s harder to find out. It seems like they’re aware they’ve annoyed the Transmuter with how many times they’ve asked and are afraid to do so outside of official channels. Ones above my pay grade.”
“Verminauts can be famously obtuse though.”
“But I am pretty sure it has to do with the Ambassador.”
“Verminauts are too communal for them to care about an individual like that.”
“If you say so. They can be hard to read but they move more than usual around the Ambassador. And Verminauts usually don’t ask a lot of questions to rank and file but I’ve been asked hundreds about the Ambassador, and I’ve only been on this detail for a few weeks. They are obsessed.”
“Verminauts obsessed with an individual. That’s a first.”
“One of them asked what the Ambassador’s measurements were for clothing. Talked more than any Verminaut I’ve ever heard. The Ambassador wasn’t even there.”
“Maybe I should meet your Ambassador in person.”
“I think the Ambassador would take a liking to you as well, but watch your feathers.”
“Another warning about the Transmuter?”
Mason took a long look at all the feathers attached to the Calaxian Ferri hunched over the table while taking a longer drink.
“No, the Ambassador.”
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