How to Become an Honorary Kathshekudarian Wheat Bat

A pure fractal made in Apophysis 2.09, overlaid upon itself in the first of two ways

Two people I know are honorary Kathshekudarian Wheat Bats. Each of them took the first hard step into the transformation, and then the people who loved them assisted them in full metamorphosis.

We were still in the life orbit around Earth and specifically San Francisco at headquarters that the loss of the Farragut and the need for replacement for the Amanirenas's warp core required in terms of debriefing and courts martial … never fun, but …

“We're not sitting on trial, Capt. Biles-Dixon,” Capt. Robert Smalls said to me. “Although this is a terrible imposition, we give thanks for life and freedom and our future reputation and pension being intact.”

Capt. Smalls had been the first officer of the Farragut and had saved his entire crew from the bad decisions of his predecessor before the Amainrenas arrived for the rescue. He did have to go through an inquiry – someone bothered to pull up the legal footnotes about actions not ordered because even in the 23rd century, the idea that captains have gotten to a position that they should be “protected' from humiliation and that's part of a first officer's loyalty is still current – and deadly if a first officer believes it.

“Listen, now-Ensign Davidson was my captain, not my master,” Capt. Smalls said at the inquiry. “My name is Robert Smalls. Look up who my ancestor is by the same name, and ask yourself if a man of that lineage is going to let his people die on a ship if he can help it. I knew that somebody was going to tell me to stay in my place – so I did it by the book and saved my entire crew and that's all there is to it. Did you have any other questions, sirs?”

“I told you we would need the popcorn, Ben,” Capt. Almira Banneker-Jackson said to her husband, Admiral Benjamin Banneker-Jackson.

“Pop some extra,” Adm. Banneker-Jackson said, “because I have the information on who tried to pull this foolery on Capt. Smalls. The admiralty will have to address this, because I am going to force the issue.”

“Should we do the cheese, caramel, or herbal blend, Ben?”

“Oh, definitely the triplicate,” he said, and she cracked up laughing.

“It's going to be that kind of party, huh?” she said.

“Now, you know I love a good party and can dance all night on these bionic legs,” he said. “Others' results, however, may vary!”

“Is Wilhelm bringing the fireworks?” she asked.

“Look, the man is wearing the fireworks, waiting on me to tell him who we are about to get.”

My aunt laughed.

“I used to be part of his ship groups while he was a commodore, and one thing people used to know back then: if you were a captain in the Allemande groups, and you took care of business, he was going to look out for you, like forever. Capt. Smalls and our niece were technically a two-ship Allemande group."

“I heard about that in person,” my uncle said with a laugh. “Somebody did a hard pull of my entire background before we were married, and that had to at least be a commodore – and he copped to it as soon I asked him. 'Almira Jackson was one of the best captains I ever served with,' he said, 'and since she became a widow there has been a line of men talking behind their hands in the fleet about how they want the action but also to be the one to tame it. Nobody tames 'Action' Jackson – you cherish her for who she is! I needed to be sure you understood that, but you had a 60-year record of warm and respectful friendship with her, so I relaxed.'”

“That's such a Wonderful Willie thing to do – that was our nickname for him back in the day. He is such a meddler, in a way, but we knew he was looking out for us higher up in the fleet. So, we got him that robe and a matching coat for his 70th birthday, and if he is wearing it, somebody is going to find out why!”

Commodore Wilhelm Allemande was seen in the streets and just casually walking through headquarters in that coat later that day.

“No, see, Capt. Smalls, I want Commodore Simon Legree to know I'm casing him,” he explained when asked. “I want him to look me up like he looked you up and be all worried about that so that he doesn't even see Adm. Banneker-Jackson coming for him! You are young, but Cdre. Legree is old enough to know I don't take kindly to people messing with captains who serve with me! Since we are doing history lessons, look up the wheat wrapping of Kathshekudar!”

Capt. Smalls did so and was amazed.

“He is exactly the type of person that is like the watchful wheat wrapping,” he said. “I see why you all got that for him, Capt. Banneker-Jackson!”

“That,” my aunt said, “and also because I lived on Kanakadur right next door, and I could get the application filed quickly."

To make a very long story short: Kathshekudar wheat is a grain called wheat by humans because it is one of the few grains grown off-world that can be used like Earth wheat without having to do heavy processing for toxins we can't handle. It is grown on Kathshekudar and Kanakadur equally and abundantly well, and also reasonably well on their sister planets. Still, galactic demand is very high, so, theft used to be a problem until the Kathshekadurians started wrapping their sheaves with some protection.

“You haven't lived – or died – until you rip off a shipment of Kathshekudar wheat and meet those wheat bats you don't know how to keep out of coming out of hibernation,” my uncle said about it. “So, they started making their wrappings the same colors as the hungry vampires who position themselves at the edges of the wheat fields to eat up anything and everything trying to eat the wheat without knowing to blow a little cold air on them first. So, you figure the average wheat thieves in space run in packs of 5-7 crew members. If every tenth wrapping of wheat is a Kathshekudarian Wheat Bat, and you don't know what the temperature is to keep them dormant… .”

Same fractal, second overlay... lunch time!

Uncle Benjamin stopped short, being a man of great restraint.

“Let's just say that it is a good natural phenomenon analogy for what happens when you mess with the captains in any Allemande group.”

“Look, you don't have to be delicate, Admiral: I am the bat,” Cdre. Allemande said. “I wept, openly, when 27 of the captains I have had the honor to lead sacrificed good portions of their time to get the application together to prove to the Ministry of Kathshekudarian Culture that I qualified to count as an off-worlder worthy to wear those colors, and then sacrificed a month of paychecks each to pay for the robe and the coat. I went to the vesting ceremony as one of only eleven off-worlders who have ever been allowed the honor. The captains I have served with as their commodore are the greatest people in the galaxy, and they proved it in how they came together and got things done, anywhere and everywhere – for them, as long as I draw breath, I am the bat.”

The twelfth off-worlder to ever have that robe and coat would be Capt. Robert Smalls. The crew of the Farragut did the application and pooled the money, with help from their friends on the Amanirenas.