Credit: SDSS Collaboration, Swift Collaboration, Sloan Foundation, NSF, NASA
Explanation: What is it? Something is happening in a small portion of the sky toward the constellation of Aries. Telescopes around the globe are tracking an unusual transient there as it changes day by day. No one is sure what it will do next. The entire space mystery began on February 18 when the Earth-orbiting robot Swift satellite noticed an unusual transient began to glow dimly in gamma rays. Dubbed GRB 060218, the object is a type of gamma ray burst (GRB) but the way its brightness changes is very unusual. Since detection, GRB 060218 has been found to emit light across the electromagnetic spectrum, including radio waves and visible light. Pictured above, the Sloan Digital Sky Survey (SDSS) image of the field of GRB 060218 well prior to its Swift trigger is shown on the left, while the same field, taken by the orbiting Swift satellites' ultraviolet telescope after the Swift trigger, is shown on the right. The oddball GRB is visible in the center of the right image. Subsequent observations found a redshift for the transient of z=0.033, showing it to be only about 440 million light years away, relatively nearby compared to typical GRBs. Whether GRB 060218 represents a new type of gamma ray burst, a new type of supernova, or an unusual link between the GRBs and supernovas has become an instant topic of research.
Authors & editors: Robert Nemiroff (MTU) & Jerry Bonnell (USRA)
Speaking of French electronica, the latest Space Oddities single-artist compilation is devoted to Bernard Fèvre (aka Black Devil) under his various guises; click through to Bandcamp for an interview with him
Among the figureheads of French disco, Bernard Fèvre, better known as Black Devil, probably had the shortest-lived carreer but was the most brilliant and unique mind of them all. Although his first album Disco Club, released in 1978, went unnoticed at first, it has since become a must-have, a collector’s item which has led a lot of listeners to further investigate into his extensive work. From rock music to music hall, sound illustration to disco, pop to reggae, through film music and advertising, Bernard Fèvre has experimented with so many genres that it has been hard not to lose track. One of his best albums even has such an unambivalent title as The Strange World of Bernard Fèvre. Please make your way to a cosmic dimension, verging on the unknown.
"I don't think you're understanding. I can't do the things your priests do. I'm an academic, for god's sake! I do research; that's it!"
Your hands are still shaking and you can't get a good grip on the goblet you've been served so you place it on the table between you and the Lordling. Behind them, the Knight regards you with even more suspicion than before, if that's possible.
"Being knowledgeable of the natural world is no small thing," the Lordling says, as though assuring you of your worth. But that's not the point you're trying to make.
"Being knowledgeable of the natural world," you begin, "is not the reason you brought me here. You wanted me to be your priest and I'm telling you I can't be. I'm useless to you."
You lean forward, mouth turned down in a hard frown.
"So, why do you want me so bad?"
That has them fidgeting; leaning back, forward, hands moving up and jolting back down.
"Well, you're...you're very strange-"
You put your head in your hands and let out a sigh. This was why Syndicate teams had to be extremely cautious, particularly on away missions. Humans were bizarre anywhere that wasn't Earth and this wouldn't be the first time it had resulted in local fascination.
"And what happened in the Hall," the Lordling continued, seeing your dismay, "They spoke to you, didn't they? The gods? That proves that you are special!"
Ah yes, the gods that spoke to you. Well, screamed and tore at you more like.
"No," you say, looking up and glaring into their eyes, "I'm not special."
"Well, maybe not yet but I'm sure if you prayed, you would be claimed immediately and then you could become my priest."
This guy was just not getting it. You stand, teeth clenched and hands balled at your sides. The Lordling's eyes follow your movements, wide and questioning and behind them, you catch the movement of the Knight's hand to their weapon.
"And which of those fucking freaks should I be praying to, hmm? Which would please you? Which one should I chain myself to for the rest of my life? The one with the claws as big as my whole body, that tried to rip me open? Or the one that was crying so loud I couldn't fucking hear anything else!? I can still hear it! Or maybe that one that was just fucking endless!? I couldn't breathe with that thing around me!"
You're so close to them now that you can see into their eyes, colours you can't name swirling around their enormous iris'. The Knight is beside you, you feel them hovering, their rage rolling off them in waves, but you keep on.
"If you think for even a second that I'm letting any of those things into my head, into me, you're out of your mind. Find yourself someone else because I'm out."
You turn to leave, steps heavy against the polished floor as you make your way towards the door. There are no protests from your companions and for that you are thankful. You just want to get out of here, get back to your camp and-
you collapse.
Where you are is blue, bright, almost blinding blue. You sit in the centre of an Ouroboros style shape which shifts and writhes around you. Its body creaks and groans like a ship and slowly, slowly it begins to close in on you. Like a snake, it coils closer and closer, its body huge, until it reaches you, curling around you and crushing. You try to scream but you have no breath. It crushes and crushes and crushes closer. Your vision goes black and your head falls back against its body that still encircles you.
A voice whispers to you. Cries out to you.
Save me. Come and save me.
You are on the floor of the room, the Lordling at your side, shaking you awake and the Knight standing unsure behind them. You gasp, breathing air into your lungs with great, greedy breaths.
"Priest," the Lordling cries, "Priest, what happened?"
Just then, the doors of the room are thrown open and a small entourage of guards race in, standing at attention.
"My Lord," one says, the urgency in her voice palpable, "Proportion has taken the northern Prince Bishop. The Steward asks that you ride out immediately and join his knights."
The Lordling's hand tightens around you and you know without knowing, exactly who it was you just saw. You say nothing though, hoping you can still escape without too much fuss. But in the back of your mind, you hear it, a small, desperate cry.
Ghald knew this was going to happen. The humans were known to take care of younglings outside of their own species, but still it had happened.
Of course it had, the humans were not predators like the hadal and the younglings they had taken in, had all been herbivores.
So it was no surprise when the leader of the kindergarten wanted to talk to him because of a problem with his youngling.
No matter where they went, his youngling always got in trouble. If there was a problem, everyone assumed his youngling started it. He was a predator and therefore aggressive and unpredictable.
A human female was in the office as well. The head of the kindergarten sat down and took a breath before starting her story.
"We had a little issue today with biting". Ghald felt his whole body going cold. This was bad, very bad. If his youngling had bitten another youngling, they would not allow him to stay in the kindergarten.
"oh no" said the human female. Ghald wanted to tell her he was sorry and hope, she would not take this to the station commander.
"Don't worry the kids are fine but I wanted to inform you both so you know what happened." The kindergarten leader said.
"Ghald, your Hadour was playing in the sandbox, when Brian approach him. Brian wanted to play with the toycars, that Hadour was playing with, so he took the cars"
The human female sighted and said "Oh no not this again. We had this problem at the park too. I just don't know how to make him play nice and share" she looked destressed.
Ghald knew this would stop, the minut she remembered that Hadour had bitten Brian. The kindergarten leader shook her head. "It's actually a very common problem at that age" she said. "Hadour wanted the cars back, so he tried to grab them. When Brian wouldn't let go, he pushed him over. "
Ghald closed his eyes, this was really bad. Fighting was not something the kindergarten would overlook.
"Brian got opset and pushed back, when that didn't make Hadour give up the cars, he grabbed Hadours tail and bit down"
Ghald couldn't believe his ears. A human child bit his youngling?!
The human female looking embarrassed "Is poor Hadour ok?" She asked.
The kindergarten leader smiled. "Yes they are both fine. We separated them and had a talk with them both. It seems Brian wanted to play superhero cars and no one wanted to play that. So when he saw Hadour sit alone in the sandbox with the cars he tried to get him to play, only Hadour didn't understand, so Brian got angry"
The human female looked at Ghald " I'm so so sorry" she said. "Brian has been acting up since his father left and I just don't know what to do"
Ghald was speechless. Normally everyone just said that his youngling was at fault.
That his aggressive behaviour was the problem, so to have another parent apologize was something he had never experienced.
"well it's not as bad as all that" the kindergarten leader said with a smile.
"Brian was very sorry, once he realised that he hurt Hadour. He apologized and when Hadour learned why Brian wanted the cars, he was all for playing super hero cars.
The two of them have been playing all day and the best part is, that a lot of the other children has been keen to be part of the atventure"
Ghald almost felt dizzy. His youngling was in a fight, but it had been started by an other youngling AND that youngling had bitten Hadour as if it had been another hadal fighting for dominance. But humans were not predators were they?
On the way home Hadour told his father all about the day. After the fight Brian and Hadour was fast friends always playing and getting into trouble.
Soon after Ghald was "pressured" by the kindergarten leader to be on the parent council.
He learned that human kids and hadal younglings were in many ways very similar.
He contacted his honeworld; Telling them to let all hadal living off world know this. Soon hadal younglings all over the know universe signed up for human kindergartens and schools. Here they would be understood and find friends. It was a great relief to the hadal parents even if the younglings sometimes had bite marks on their tail.
Part I >> Part II >> Part III >> Part IV >> Part V >> Part VI >> Part VII >> Part VIII >> Part IX >> Part X >> Part XI >> Part XII >> Part XIII >> Part XIV >> Part XV
From their quarters, Zeelot perused, after Wilks, Vallion, and the dulgo incinerated Krellion and the other kulgo, stormed the control room of the Frek’jon. The blast had not the power to damage the technology in the room ——only its occupants. On another monitor, they glanced over at the med bay where the other dulgo tended to their humans, placing them in cryo-pods and healing units, and guarding them with a ferocity not seen among H’hish. Even Mel, Krellion’s prized pet, along with the other cargo, aided the rebelling dulgo and their humans. This crew was something to be seen——a unique entity that Zeelot would be sure to crush before this rebellion happened once again.
Turning away from the monitors, Zeelot seized their broken servant-droid, shook out of the useless droid their switchkey, and turned back to the control console in which they made good use of said switchkey. Hidden in the console’s façade laid a device beyond the understanding of any lifeform on this vessel——or in any sector of the universe. If the twenty-fifth time does not take, then I must return to the beginning with this crew. Because Zeelot never had to reset more than two times for any crew they were commissioned to take, yet this crew managed to break that record. Each member presented new and unique challenges——and problems. Currently, the dulgo were now at Zeelot’s quarters, likely ready to slaughter them as the group already attempted numerous times before.
As the group knocked down the door, Zeelot activated the device and used the switchkey. Zeelot saw the flabbergasted expressions on the dulgo before they disappeared to reset the past events.
In the dimness of her vision, in the increasing silence of her surroundings, Balogh could discern a single voice——a voice she never thought she would ever hear again; surely they had been killed amongst the other Pollikon guards, but no, cradling her in their arms was Wilks, screaming her name until their voice grew hoarse. She could not help the smile that crept its way onto her face; Wilks was precious; they were her friend, even as everything fell apart and even as she withered away in their arms. “H-Hey Wilks...wha-what took ya so, so long?” she managed to stutter out with a strained laugh, each breath painful as the last, worse than the hot-iron that had seared her flesh from before.
However, Wilks appeared not to be in a laughing mood, and instead, they shushed her, saying, “The dying shouldn’t make jokes while the healthy are trying to save them.” Balogh attempted to laugh, but the pain convulsed through her body. “See what I mean?” asked Wilks, their voice cracking with tears as they adjusted something on her face, something over her mouth. “Once your better, I’ll explain, but for now, rest my dear friend because we still have much to do.”
With what little strength she had left, Balogh managed to grin like a fool before she slipped into unconsciousness and asking herself if Pollikons could cry. If they could, then she knew her crewmates were in good hands and she trusted Wilks would protect them all like they protected her.
.
.
.
Balogh lied flat on her back, staring at the ceiling because nothing else could be done while she resided in the isolation cell from Hell: the room was two metres by two metres by three metres, with a small toiletry area that took up less than one-third of the floor space, leaving her enough room to perform crunches or push-ups, or pray to the Holy Father, but nothing much else. She could stand comfortably enough, but who wanted to stand when the guards, when they made their rounds or delivered her meals, took every opportunity they had to assault her, harm her enough where she would not need to be taken to the med bay, but enough where her spirit lied scattered on the ground, crushed. Yet.
Yet.
Yet.
Yet I continue having those weird dreams. The other ones were vile, but this one feels as real as where I now lay. In that dream, a dream where she lied helpless, in writhing pain, a Pollikon acted as her friend during an escape attempt from the Frek’jon, but she knew no Pollikon held compassion or a moral conscious. No, the Pollikon was her friend. A good friend. A kind friend. How odd of her to think up such a thing. Must be my mind spiraling into insanity. Many days locked in the henhouse makes any soul mad.
Sighing, Balogh sat up and stared at the cell door, willing the dream from her mind. Nothing good comes from false hope, especially when no hope existed. No, the word shot through her heart like a bullet and brought the rest of the words of her bunică once told her when she was a small child. ‘Hope always exists, my little nepoată. When the sun disappears behind the clouds, it has not vanished forever, but temporarily hidden from sight. Hope is like the sun; sometimes we see hope as obviously as we see the sun in the sky, but some days, the sun disappears behind the clouds, and we remain uncertain when we will see it once again. We may feel the sun has gone for good, yet it still exists behind those clouds, we just have to search for it, hold on and believe we will feel its warmth once again. My little Lillie, never doubt hope because to doubt hope is to doubt the sun will shine once again. The sun will always shine and hope will always exist. Yes. Hope is never lost. Never.’
Yes. Hope is never lost. Never.
On her feet, Balogh felt a surge of energy she had not felt in many days and busted out laughing, releasing all her nerves, anxieties, and emotions at once. Come what may, she would not lose hope and she would continue fighting for the freedom of her and her crewmates. As she continued to laugh, Balogh felt tears stream down her face before they morphed into sobs. Three months of isolation; no one to speak to; no friend to be had; abuse of all sorts; and all her pent up emotions overflowed, overwhelming her, wracking her body like the flu, leaving her helpless and weak. So. Very. Weak.
I will escape one day. Maybe not now, but one day.
Murakami busied herself with work, avoiding Snell, Krellion, and Mel as much as possible, knowing if she crossed any of them, misery only awaited her because, despite how she was now property of Captain Zeelot, a slave remained a slave no matter the species or the name. She learned her future would only be filled with the contests against her very life; and the exact moment she woke up from her medically-induced coma introduced her to the new life planned for her. Never had she felt so powerless as she did now. Just thinking about that moment when her life changed...hurt.
Head throbbing, Murakami massaged her temples as she recalled the moment she woke up on the Frek’jon. She had crack opened her eyes and immediately winced at the blindingly bright lights of the room. She dared not open her eyes all the way, cracking them open little by little until her vision adjusted to the light. However, she instantly and deeply regretted that decision because before her was the ugliest lifeform she had ever seen, and that lifeform was Captain Zeelot, who, for some inexplicable reason, had little patience with her repulsion of their appearance.
Zeelot had seized her by her shirt collar and brought her face mere inches from their own foul face. Zeelot spouted out the most confidant personal information about her that not even her crew knew, from her social security number to her bank account balance. Murakami knew not how Zeelot knew her personal details beyond what her crew knew, but then again, her mind was a mess at the time, and, because her mind was a mess, she could only dumbly stare as Zeelot threatened her with more information. They told her about the Frek’jon’s surgeon, Krellion, and how he could revive the dead. How he could revive her, should she die after crossing anyone on the ship, only for Zeelot to kill her again. And again. And again.
Murakami coughed when Zeelot finally released their death-grip on her, taking deep, cleansing breaths.
After that incident, Murakami had to appear on a holo-vid before her scattered crew, repeating prepared words to them while trepidation loomed around her. Zeelot had shown her vids of previous ship commanders, humans and never aliens, being beaten to death for defying orders. The aliens, she was later informed, never fussed. They accepted their fates. Only the humans and the aliens who were closely bonded to them, fought.
Heaving a long sigh, Murakami dispelled the memories as she focused on the present, which involved basic grunt work. Until Zeelot had the rest of her crew off their ship, they did not trust her with the ship’s important mechanics. Zeelot’s smart, she thought as she cleaned the lower halls of the ship, but not smart enough. When my crew is scattered, I’ll overtake this ship and find my crew again because I am as much of a happy-go-lucky idiot as the rest of them.
As she cleaned, Murakami whistled a tune from the latest anime her children watched.
