Angels and Wormholes

Caldwell 57

"What do you mean?" Rolland asked.

"I mean being so thankful for our presence. I've seen the Avalon's defensive specs. They can handle themselves."

"We're military. They're scientists and politicians."

"All the same, I'm pretty sure they could outgun the Excalibur."

Rolland laughed. "Careful what you say about my ship." He turned to face Erin more directly. "On a strictly numbers level, you're right. They've got more firepower, more shields, more missiles. Yeah, they can take care of themselves. But we have a finely tuned warship with a hand-picked crew of military professionals. I'm sure they appreciate having us as around."

"I suppose so. Anyway," Erin glanced towards the exit. "I think I'm just getting in the way up here. I'm going to head over to the lounge."

"It's okay." Rolland smiled. "You're welcome on deck."

"Thank you, Captain," Erin nodded and started towards the door. "I'll keep it in mind."

She headed into the hall, making her way to the stairwell, across the ship, and eventually to the Excalibur's lounge. Electronic music was playing quietly within. A large viewscreen was showing an old game of laser ball. The small room was empty except for a man sitting alone at a table, his eyes on the game. Erin recognized him: Jordan Rattan, the compliance agent posted for the meeting with the Catechumen. Like Erin, he was a temporary post on the Excalibur. They had that in common. Erin grabbed an empty glass from the bar and filled it with water, then headed to Jordan's table, where he rested his chin on the palms of his hands and his elbows on the table.

"You mind if I join you?"

Jordan was startled, nearly knocking over his beer. "Oh. No, not at all." He motioned to the empty chair.

"So, how'd that compliance check on the Kaax station go?" Erin sat and set her glass down on the table.

"Heh." Jordan chuckled. "Let's just say it was a good learning experience."

"That well, huh?"

"I don't know if I'm cut out for it."

"Compliance?"

"No, compliance is easy. I mean dealing with aliens."

"I know what you mean."

"I guess you deal with them a lot? I mean, as an ambassador." Jordan took a swig of beer.

"Not as much as you might think. I wrote my Masters on the subject, though."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. What was the title again?" Erin looked up as she searched her memory. "Right" -she spoke slowly and deliberately- "Incommensurable Ethics or Morphologically Equivalent Morality?: The Application of Bridging Metaphors in Exo-Neurology to Interstellar Politics."

Jordan blinked. "That's a mouthful."

"That's academia." Erin smiled. "Anyway, I studied exo-politics and alien history before I switched to -" she paused "- a more practical enterprise. Then I found out you learn more from your first actual meeting with aliens than by reading all the books you can get your hands on."

"You think you wasted your time in the academy?"

"No. It was a necessary step. And it's still useful knowledge. But what I'm saying is the experience of actually working with them is qualitatively different. Let me tell you a story. One of my early assignments was with an envoy to the roaches. You heard of 'em?"