Rendezvous 1 (Patreon)

@Pickles had an interesting suggestion this month...

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Standing at attention, Captain Ori watched as the Going Away team did their duty. One hundred crewmen standing in two lines of fifty, passing a corpse down the corridor to the recycler bay. The body moved agonizingly slowly with each member of the crew required to spend several seconds stroking the deceased’s furry arms, legs, or even face, talking to the dead, and wishing them a good journey.

When the first Going Away team was assembled, the crew resisted the new tradition. But now, one hundred and fifteen years later, team membership had become something of an honor. In fact, there was some frustration that the administrators hadn’t added any new members to the team in over a decade.

The company administrators had been very careful in how they selected crew for the team, making sure that every team member had experienced a full ten years of membership by this moment in time.

When the team had finally passed off the body to the recycler crew, Captain Ori signaled for the crew to circle around before he addressed the team. “Good morning, everyone,” he said and waited a moment while a hundred overlapping voices wished him a good morning in return. “I realize that you have meetings scheduled with your individual councilors, but I need all of you to attend another meeting first.”

The half-hour meetings with grief counselors were a mandatory part of being on the team. Few of the Going Away crew really had much grief to share as they only spent a few seconds with the deceased, but the captain felt it was good practice for them to discuss their feelings. Some of the older team members shared worries about their own Going Away as they got closer to their sixtieth birthdays, but the rest of the team was content to talk about other stressors in their lives: relationships, cubs, work, money problems, and the like.

“Please come with me to the training warehouse, and I’ll try to make this short.” The captain turned, and with only a little concerned muttering, the crowd fell in behind him.

The training warehouse was another unusual part of the recycler crew ritual, though this one was newer, started only fifty years prior. For half an hour before each Going Away, the team would meet in an empty warehouse and practice moving heavy loads about in a zero-g environment. When pressed, the officers always assured them that this practice was to help build teamwork, but many doubted that this was actually true.

The team shuffled their way to the warehouse—the massive space was under normal gravity at the moment—then gathered around the captain, waiting for him to speak. When he did, all eyes went wide.

“As you know,” the captain’s voice boomed in the cavernous room, “a century ago, the company rerouted us from our previous mission of studying planets so that we could rendezvous with the Golden Steppe I. That has not changed.”

The team members nervously glanced between their peers before looking back to the captain. “However, the nature of this rendezvous—which has been held strictly confidential all this time—can now be revealed.” He drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “And you’re not going to like it.”

Whispers of concern grew until the background noise became a low roar, then the captain raised his paws and waited for silence. “The company has been out of contact with the Golden Steppe I this entire time. The gate between the ship and Krakuntec Prime has been closed. And as you know, if the gate is offline, then the entire trinity is offline. All three technologies are designed to only work together.” He shook his head. “In other words, our mission is not to meet with the crew of the Golden Steppe I, but to salvage a dead ship.”

At this, the real shouting began. Captain Ori didn’t even bother trying to hush the crowd. Eventually, an older geroo with a salt-and-pepper pelt stepped forward, and the captain couldn’t miss his words as he shouted them directly at the captain. “You tricked us! The Going Away team is nothing but a scam. You just want us to pull frozen corpses out of a dead ship.”

The captain raised his paws, but this time he had to wait far longer before the crew finally settled down. “One hundred and fifteen years ago, Captain Mawy—whom I should note has been recycled for nearly a century—was told to change course and that on arrival, we would be expected to salvage the Golden Steppe I.” He put his paws behind his back and stood up straight. “Captain Mawy knew that this would be—as you said—a ship full of frozen corpses and that on arrival, our first order of business would be to remove those corpses and see them delivered respectfully to the recycler.”

Ori began to pace as he boomed, “She knew that this was going to be a terrible task and that if we didn’t do something, then whatever team was assigned to the task would likely be traumatized beyond all hope. And frankly, I agree with her on this. I don’t think I could do it.” He raised a finger to the rafters as he paced. “But she hoped that given enough exposure and therapy, that a team would be able to accomplish this task without suffering any lasting harm.”

He turned back to the wall of shocked faces. “So, yes, that’s why she started the Going Away team tradition.

“We will take this task slowly, working very short shifts, and reserving ample time for each of you to speak with your grief counselors. Anyone who doesn’t fare well will be removed from the team and given all the care they need. Regardless of whatever timeline the krakun have in mind, I refuse to rush this. None of the dead will be handled disrespectfully, and none of the living will be worked into a depression.”

The salt-and-pepper geroo crossed his arms. “I won’t do it. You can’t make me.” Many voices in the crowd behind him echoed that sentiment.

Ori waited for silence once more with paws raised. “I understand that this is a lot to ask, but I have great confidence that you can do this,” he said. “And as such, I am prepared to offer everyone who completes this task some bonuses that no gateship captain has ever offered to the crew before.”

He raised his fingers one by one as he counted off the benefits, “First, ten thousand credits each. Second, an additional ten years of life on your birth token. And finally, an extra birth token to do with as you please.”

The crowd gasped with a single voice, but the captain explained, “Are you finished raising a family? Fine. Give it to one of your cubs, let them have an extra. Already have three cubs? So what. Go ahead and have a fourth if you really want it.”

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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ZoQfgrp9cddOe6JQLYcPNbge8BA4WlQohUxtHmxJLh4/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?