Welcome to the Journal of Now and Forever. This Journal is a collection of my Star Control and Star Control 2 fiction. Note: Some of this material is, by necessity, extrapolation from the slim information provided by canon sources.

New fiction is posted first at My Livejournal before it appears here. This story is in response to Spamprovs' Challenge #9.

"Not another one."

"I'm afraid so," Jack sighed. He leaned back in the grass and removed his glasses.

"Look," Tomo said, "It was bound to happen. We should just consider ourselves fortunate that more haven't occurred."

"Yet," Kurt grumbled.

The Committee was back outside under its favorite evoak tree, enjoying the spring weather and the privacy that the outdoors granted them. It was Tomo's turn to record the meeting, a task Dina herself had performed the last time. The tiny scarlet evoak flowers were so numerous the branches appeared to be sagging under their constellate mass.

The subject at hand was the third Androsynth so far to request deferment or elimination of military training. Nobody on the Committee had prepared for such a thing, which meant each was, at present, handled individually. The first was rejected on the basis that "I don't wanna" wasn't a valid reason; the second was from an Androsynth who had lost a leg in the Clone Revolt years ago. Physically maimed or disabled Androsynth were few in number, and nobody had even thought to remove their names from the military service requirement lists. At least it proved we're treating everyone equally, Dina thought.

"So what's this one's excuse?" Kurt continued.

"Let's see..." Jack sat up, put his glasses back on, and accessed his microcomputer. "Erm... He's a gene splicer, it says here, currently working on... that can't be right." He adjusted his glasses. "Currently working on reducing malocclusion in pigs?"

"The hell?" Gary expressed everyone's confusion, even as they all referred to their microcomputers.

"Someone's got friends," Ruth commented, after reviewing the data. "I didn't think there was any gene splicing left to be done."

"Was he always a gene splicer?" Dina asked. "I'll need one eventually." If we ever get some Earthlings to work on.

"It looks like it," Jack said. "And no slouch at it, either. Didn't have much to do in the first years here, of course – worked on solar panels, the crop harvests, that kind of thing... but then right into splicing, and he's been doing that ever since."

"So the pig excuse, it's real? Or just an excuse?" Kurt demanded.

"Well, his supervisor might vouch for him, but more likely that's just some busywork to keep him around. Certainly his record shows nothing out of the ordinary, except one time when he went to the starbase and asked to become a spacer. He was rejected and didn't challenge it."

"When we cover the rest of the agenda, I want to talk about that," Gary said, "how the supervisors are keeping workers from transferring jobs."

"Fair enough," Jack said, and paused to sip from his water bottle.

Tomo took advantage of Jack's pause to catch up with the minutes typing. "Then what's his rationale for skipping military service?"

"He doesn't want to avoid it," Jack said, adjusting his glasses. "He wants it deferred. According to his request form, he's needed to help some friends during difficult times in their lives."

A long pause, then, while everyone considered that.

Dina wondered if this were for real. Ever since her meeting with José, she'd thought long and hard about the need for personality screening before the Committee, or someone, dictated who would receive the privilege of reproduction. That day was still far off, since they had no Earthlings to help in that quest, so she hadn't yet brought it up to her fellow Committee members. Still, it was obvious that some Androsynth weren't exactly of the mindset she'd want to pass on, either genetically or by parenting. The flip side of the coin was that there had to be some Androsynth with the appropriate personality traits, and at the right levels.

"So he's taking the high road," Kurt said. "At least it sounds better than 'I don't want to'. I doubt it's real."

"Do we have any other details?" Ruth asked.

"Well, he states he's Roman Catholic – " Jack began, and Kurt groaned. Jack looked up at him, one eyebrow raised as though to ask a question, but Kurt shook his head. The Necro-99 continued, "He says he's Roman Catholic and he feels it to be his duty to help his friends in need, and one of them in particular needs him right now. He requests deferment of six months."

"Is he injured or disabled?" Tomo asked.

"No."

"We know he's not in a critical industry," Ruth said, "Or there wouldn't be that pig story."

"No, but his boss wants to keep him around – whether it's for future work or to repay loyalty, or something else," Dina pointed out. "And if his concern is genuine..." Her voice trailed off as she stared into the middle distance, across the gently rolling foothills, and toward the columnar basalt outcrop.

"What is it, Dina?" Jack asked.

"Look," she said. "I'm going to need a gene splicer whenever we get some captive Earthlings." She looked hard at Gary, who had the decency to spread his hands in apology. "I want to at least keep track of this one. He's supposed to be good, according to his work reports, and I'd rather have a good one than average.

"Next, as you know, whenever we get reproduction going, we're going to need not just mothers – obviously we have a limited pool of those." Dina looked meaningfully at Ruth, whose face showed a flicker of nervousness before once again resuming its cool, confident appearance. "We're going to need fathers and/or caretakers. And if this Androsynth – what's his series, anyway?"

"He's an XR4-IT," Jack answered. "The everything-series, you could say. I don't think they were designed with a specific purpose in mind."

"Well, if this Androsynth truly does care about the well-being of his fellows, he might be a good candidate for reproduction, or caretaking, or both."

"Your point?" Gary said.

"I want to know if he's genuine. If he really does mean what he says, or if he's embracing his religion as an excuse to get out of military service. Although," she added, almost as an afterthought, "he's just asking for deferment, not exemption. What happens in six months?"

Checking the schedule showed nothing out of the ordinary. If this Androsynth had something planned, it wasn't in conjunction with anything official.

"So you want to find out if he's for real. If he is, then what?" Tomo asked.

"Then..." Dina paused to collect her thoughts, then continued: "If he's genuinely – I hate to use the phrase, but – a nice guy, then I'd like to see what he does regarding this supposed friend's problem. I'm not entirely sure what I'm looking for, but I think I'll know when I see it."

Kurt rolled his eyes and muttered something in Yiddish. It took a moment for Dina to recognize it, but when she did, she wondered if maybe that was the root of Kurt's argument – possibly Kurt was religious, too... just not the same faction.

As if reading her mind, Jack mused, "How many religious Androsynth are there? Does anyone know?"

They didn't. "It's not like it was important in the early days," Gary shrugged. "I don't think anyone worried about beliefs when we were picking vegetables by hand or hunting for our food."

"Okay, let's try to find out somehow." Jack looked at his fellow Committee members. "Dina, I suspect you'll want to follow the XR4-IT's progress, right? So someone else will have to look into the religious numbers... Ruth, Tomo? Either of you want to have a go at it?"

"I will," Ruth volunteered. "It's something I can push through my subordinates as coming down from 'The Powers That Be'. I'll see if I can get results by next meeting, although if someone gets a knot in their gut about it, I'm sure we'll all hear about it before then."

"All right, then. Dina, you see if you can get some sort of feel for the gene splicer. Although I'll be honest, I don't know what you'll do with the information until you have need of him."

"Thanks," said Dina, and she meant it, at least since it was Jack approving her plan. "And he only wants a deferment. It's not as though a cataclysm will occur if he doesn't go in for six months."

"Excuse me," Kurt said. "I hate to spoil it for you, but if one gets the deferment, what's to stop someone else from making the same claim? It's hardly like we can say 'Don't tell anyone' – sooner or later the truth will come out."

"There is that," Tomo agreed. "So far we've had only three of tens of thousands try to get out of military service, but who knows who else might decide to try it?"

"For one thing, we might test his religious knowledge," Jack said. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Dina noticed his hair was getting long; there were no barbers or hairdressers on this planet, so hair length was up to the individual in most cases, but Jack's was falling past his eyebrows. At least the length appeared to be keeping the flyaways under control. Maybe that's why he's done it.

She realized she'd been woolgathering, and brought her attention back to the meeting. "...when nobody knows who's Catholic on this planet in the first place?" Kurt was grumbling.

"Look," Dina said, "let's see if this is compatible with everyone. He goes in for service. We see if anyone in his social circle – roommate, neighbors, co-workers, whoever – starts having problems. Ruth and her group start asking about everyone's religious preferences. If another Catholic comes up, we try to use that Androsynth, or his knowledge, to see if 'mine' is for real. If the XR4's friend or whoever shows any sign of problems, we can yank him back out of service and see what he does. It would require some work and schedule jiggering, but it should be doable, right?"

Discussion ran apace for half an hour regarding objections, ethics of privacy, and need for Dina's purposes vs. need for defense. By the end, it was decided that an impartial observer would be picked and sent in, undercover as it were, to the XR4's workplace or home, on a sort of reconnaissance mission. In the meantime, military service would continue. As Ruth summed it up, "If he gets pulled out, that's different than deferment or exemption. We're not giving him a pass when every other Androsynth has to go through it as well."

"Actually, that brings me to my next point," Gary said. "We'll all have to do our service at some time, so let's try to keep our work up-to-date so nothing is left behind. I've been through space training, and although it isn't the same as what we've got going on now, it does keep you busy. I recommend we all create special, personalized message accounts specifically for when we each go through basic, and that we keep them updated. Then nobody will be left out of the loop."

They all agreed to that. The topic changed to the accidental planting of the Whitehills watershed with tripsacorn instead of perennial wheat, and whether anything should be done about it, given that both were edible. It was decided that the tripsacorn would be harvested and the planting area resown with a nitrogen fixer afterward; wheat products would simply be less available for two harvests as a result. Dina thought tripsacorn-based foods were all right, but juxtaposed against perennial wheat, there simply wasn't a comparison – the texture of tripsacorn meant she always lost weight when it became a staple in the commissary.

Then a thought occurred to Dina. "Is it possible," she asked the Committee at large, "to specifically target someone for training?"

"I suppose it is," Kurt shrugged. "Why? Someone bothering you?"

"Hn... not quite. But one of my techs needs a break, I think, and maybe this would provide it." With luck, it'll be a mutual benefit – he'll get some much-needed discipline and he'll be out of my hair for a few months.

"Sure, I don't see a problem. I was going to ask if your group had anyone you could spare anyway," Jack said. "I know your team will be important to us, and has been, but lately..."

"I know," Dina sighed. "I also know about the labor shortage. I can probably lose another one, if it helps, but I do have some long-term projects that I need the rest for."

"All right." Jack typed at his microcomputer. "I don't think we'll need you to drop two yet, though I'll get back to you on it. Who's the body you want buried?"

"He's a CRC-16, goes by the name of Grif."

Comments? Email me: laridian at aol dot com