UMS Françoise Dupont
So I was going for an episodic space opera feel when I got this idea, and it's changed over time as the details filled themselves in. I'm not sure how to classify it now, beyond ''scifi MLB fanfiction.' I've written 9 episodes (chapters) with a soft ending. I've been sitting on this for long enough that it's time to hit publish.
I'm starting at a K+ rating. There is some kissing, reference to more-than-kissing, discussion of war and war crimes, a little bit of death, but i think it's tame enough for K+. Let me know if you disagree.
EPISODE 1: The Noir Delegation
In this episode: Aliens join the crew of the UMS Françoise Dupont.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng had been born in Paris, France, on Earth, but had spent the majority of her life in space - the last five years on the UMS Françoise Dupont, studying as a cadet with hopes of becoming a pilot.
Her parents were not fighters or pilots, but the Universal Military didn't need everyone to rush headfirst into conflict. It needed diplomats and janitors, teachers and engineers, doctors and bakers. A good portion of necessary services could be automated with modern technology, but the Dupont was a Kwamiian ship, one off three fighting vessels given by that race to help their allies in the ongoing conflict with Akum. As such, there was a good deal of support technology that was not designed to work for Earthlings and all that lost functionality had to be replaced with equivalent, Earthling-friendly technology or those services needed to be supplied by living, breathing people.
Marinette's parents were two of those people. They were trained in all manner of food science, from nutrition and meal planning on a large scale, to preparing delicacies for diplomatic events and avoiding food waste in the closed environment of a UM carrier. As their daughter, Marinette joined them among the stars. It was all fascinating and familiar, the only life she could remember, and she looked forward to the day that she could claim the ship as her home through her own merit rather than through her parents.
Despite the facts that the ship was built by the Kwamiians and the countless reminders on every level that this was an alien ship, Marinette had never met an alien. She had studied Kwami and Akum in her classes and knew a little about the Noir and the Volpins, but she really wanted to meet one. Well, maybe not an Akuma.
.o8o.
"Marinette!" called out the now-familiar voice of Alya Cesaire, Marinette's new bestie. "Hurry up. I don't want to be late."
The Cesaires had recently transferred to the UMS Françoise Dupont. Hector, Alya's father, specialized in crypto- and xeno-biology, and had joined the medical staff. Her mother, Magda, was a chef and had joined the kitchen staff which was where she met the Dupain-Chengs. The three shared an instant rapport which was quickly mirrored by their daughters.
"I'm coming," called Marinette, picking up the pace. "Although I don't understand why you are excited to get to class," she added more quietly once she caught up with her friend.
"No special reason," lied Alya. "Today feels like a good day. I just want to start it right. And that means my bestie isn't late for roll call."
Marinette raised an eyebrow but let it slide. Alya wasn't one to keep secrets for long. Whatever had gotten her in her current mood would be made apparent sooner or later.
After attendance, their instructor quickly abandoned the scheduled syllabus. "What can you tell me about the Noir?" she asked to the class in general.
A few hands were raised but the quickest belonged to Max Kant, the star student, who gave a brief summary when called upon: "The Noir are a technologically inferior race who have been all but enslaved or eradicated by the Akuma."
Marinette heard a disgruntled huff at her elbow, followed by a disbelieving, "Not hardly."
The instructor heard it too, and challenged Alya to explain her different viewpoint.
"The Noir were no more technologically inferior than Earthlings were before the Kwamiians took us under their wing," Alya began. "They had rudimentary space travel and man-made satellites, and had begun to explore their solar system. It's just that their home planet was only a few light-years away from Akum, and when the Akuma found them, they bombed the Noir into submission. That could have been us; they were just unlucky."
Miss Bustier nodded and Alya continued. "The Akuma did manage to kill off a large number of Noir at first, but they quickly found out that a Noir is not so easy to kill in a fair fight. Which is why their tactics changed and the Akuma switched to taking Noir children as hostages to keep the remaining population subdued.
"That didn't stop a sizable rebel faction from working with the Kwamiians to destabilize and end the Akuma occupation, but they'll have to work fast to stop the genocide before their population drops below a sustainable number."
Kant glared sullenly. He knew all these facts and didn't appreciate that the newcomer had apparently outshone him.
"Even though they managed to throw the Akuma off their planet, you can bet that their homeworld won't ever recover. Akum scorched the earth when they evacuated," Kant argued. "Even if they survive, the Noir will be permanent refugees."
Marinette wasn't the only one who found the harsh tones of disagreement uncomfortable.
"Hey, where's Cadet Bourgeois?" asked Rose, a born peacemaker.
"She is with the ambassador this morning," volunteered the instructor. "The Françoise Dupont is expecting some important guests, and her father wanted her on hand to help."
Alya nudged Marinette painfully, trying to share the secret she had been sworn to keep. The Françoise Dupont wasn't anywhere near a space station right now, so who could come? How important were these guests to warrant the ambassador dancing attendance on them? And how did that have anything to do with the discussion on the Noir?
Marinette suddenly gasped and looked to her friend with wide eyes. Alya smiled knowingly and nodded once in confirmation.
"A Noir is coming here?" piped up Nathan, having watched the interaction between the two in front. "Today?"
Excitement rippled through the class as Alya cringed and Miss Bustier frowned. "Quiet, please," the instructor called the class to order. "Nothing is confirmed. I'm now going to begin my lecture on the Noir and their fight with the Akuma."
Miss Bustier was as good as her word. It became clear to Marinette as she listened that the Noir were in a very precarious position. More than four-fifths their population had been killed by the Akuma, and much of their home planet had been rendered uninhabitable. Their infrastructure had been destroyed, and sites of cultural significance had been leveled. The conquering Akuma had been ruthlessly lethal.
And yet once the Akuma stopped bombing the planet, once they landed and began to enslave the survivors, the Noir fought back, proving that they too could kill their enemy. Unfortunately, they could not do it on the same scale as the Akuma, and were soon forced to make concessions when the Akuma grabbed children for hostages. Even then, Noir resistance persisted, at great risk to the general population.
The Kwamiians provided aid when they discovered the situation, successfully evicting the Akuma from the Noir's planet. But even that victory was not without an aftertaste of defeat. The Akuma may have left the planet, but they took their slaves and hostages with them. And they were not above broadcasting ritual deaths of their hostages to keep the remaining Noir in line. For the most part, this terror campaign was successful; very few free Noir had anything to do with the Universal Military, the interracial fighting force that opposed the Akuma.
"So if you ever do meet a Noir who is willing to fight," Miss Bustier concluded, "understand the personal loss that leaves him or her free to fight, or imagine the sacrifice - the danger to their loved ones - if the Akuma were to kill their families in retaliation."
It had not been a cheery morning and Marinette was grateful for the break. Still, the depressing fate of the Noir eroded her appetite and she picked at her food listlessly.
"Don't make me tell your parents that you wasted food," Alya warned. It was a very real threat.
Marinette shrugged and took a bite. "It's just -" she began after swallowing her mouthful, "it's just so unfair that the Noir have had to deal with this. It's genocide!"
"I'm sure they'll be glad to hear you're sympathetic to their plight," Alya smirked.
Marinette looked at her friend. "How much do you know?" she asked. "I realise you can't tell me what you know, but can you tell me how much?"
Alya looked uncomfortable. "Every other reassignment, it seems like Dad goes somewhere to learn something new or to brush up his skills. And then the UM sends us to where he needs to put those skills to use. But until he mentioned the Noir this morning, I had no idea who or when or where."
Marinette chewed on that thought. "How long do your dad's assignments typically last?" She knew that Alya had traveled a lot but wasn't yet sure what that meant.
Her friend shrugged. "The longest assignment was three years. The shortest was two months."
"So you'll be gone as soon as the Noir complete their business here?" Marinette liked Alya but it was hard to make lasting friendships in just a few months.
"That depends," Alya wavered. "I'm practically to the point where I need to stay in one place to complete my education. In fact, I think you're stuck with me. Leaving the Françoise Dupont before my few remaining classes end would be pretty foolish. And after I earn my pip, I'll have to go where the UM sends me, although I expect I'll stay here for a while. The carrier has a good training program, and plenty of opportunity to hone my skills with all you rocket jockeys flying around. I'm just not looking forward to staying in the single barracks, not after having lived in family units for so long."
Marinette brightened at the thought that Alya was staying for the long haul. "Well, if you want, the two of us could go in together for a family unit," she offered. It would be fun to have a roommate and to experience the independence of living without her parents.
Alya rolled her eyes. "I like you, Marinette, but not like that."
Marinette blushed and sputtered. "That's not what I meant! Rose said she was going to do the same thing with a friend of hers -"
"Yeah, and I've seen Rose and her 'friend,' and trust me: nuh-uh."
Marinette wanted to argue that Alya was reading more into the situation than was actually there, but the other woman's certainty did not brook opposition. Then the line of Alya's mouth began to wiggle, and at last she was laughing at Marinette's confusion.
"I'm sorry," she said as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "It's just that the look on your face was priceless. If and when my dad gets a new assignment, you'll be my first choice for a roommate. In the meantime, how would you like to be my guest to Ambassador Bourgeois' reception this evening?"
"What!" Marinette squealed in disbelief. "When? How?"
"My mom and I are invited with my dad," Alya explained. "I'm allowed to bring my bestie, if you want to go."
Who could refuse an offer like that?
.o8o.
Marinette fidgeted with the collar of her cadet uniform, her blue-black hair pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She felt terribly plain compared to most of the gathered guests in their sashes and medals, but there was nothing for her to do about it. Besides, Alya was wearing a matching uniform.
The two spent most of their time standing close together, Marinette pointing out the various other guests to Alya who hadn't been on board long enough to recognize them herself. The hangar was filled with people that Marinette knew on sight yet was too shy to approach. Except possibly Chloe Bourgeois, but she was avoiding the ambassador's daughter for other reasons.
At last the guests of honor were announced. Everyone stopped talking and turned to watch the Noir enter the room.
"There are four of them!" Marinette counted for Alya. One was a woman, two were full-grown men, and another was a younger man. It was hard for Marinette to discern much detail as the Noir were all completely black: their black skin was covered in black fur, which was covered in black clothing. The only bit of color on them came from their vibrantly green or blue eyes. Their clothing was completely devoid of insignia or other ornamentation and seemed chosen to match the color of their fur. The fur was short and laid flat and close to their skin with the exception of a long ruff that circled the necks of the older men and a shorter ruff for the woman. Short ears stood near the tops of their heads, and she thought she could see them twitch and move. Combined with the men's manes, they made Marinette think of a cross between lions and panthers from Earth. She couldn't wait to see them up close.
After the Noir delegation promenaded with Ambassador Bourgeois through the hangar to a low dias, a receiving line began to form so that people could personally greet the aliens. Marinette was itching to join the line but Alya held her back until the first rush died down.
Eventually the two women made their way to the front of the line.
"Hey!" exclaimed Marinette. "I know that guy standing next to the younger Noir." She pointed him out to Alya. "His name is Nino Lahiffe. He's a couple years older than we are. He was studying alien languages and communication. I wonder if he's working as their translator?" A minute of observation confirmed that hypothesis.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" Lahiffe greeted her formally before dropping pretense and giving her a hug.
"Nino!" she answered back. "I'm so glad to see you here. Meet my new bestie, Alya Cesaire."
"Cesaire?" he repeated with a note of recognition. "Hector Cesaire's little girl?"
Alya nodded and extended her hand. Nino folded it in both of his own.
"Hector told me he had a daughter, but he didn't say she looked like you," he said. A blush broke out on his face. "Wait, no. That didn't sound like I meant it to. No. I mean that your dad and I have both been involved in a lot of super-hush-hush interdisciplinary meetings over the last few months to prepare for this visit, and a few of us got off-topic on a couple occasions, and he mentioned that he had a family. I thought his kids were younger."
"My brothers are," Alya said, pulling her hand away.
Marinette was worried that it felt awkward, so she turned to the Noir standing next to Nino, anxious to change the topic. "How do you do?" she said with a slight dip of her head. "I'm Cadet Dupain-Cheng." She did not extend her hand. No one else in the line had offered to shake hands with the Noir and she thought it would not be appreciated.
The Noir nodded back. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Cadet. I am Agreste."
Up close, Marinette had to admit that the Noir was very handsome. His eyes were completely green except for the thin sliver of black, like nothing she had ever seen before. She smiled slightly at their mesmerizing effect.
"You are friends with Lahiffe?" he asked.
Marinette mumbled something that sounded like, "yes." It was hard to hear or speak in front of eyes like that.
"She is actually training to be a pilot," Nino offered. "So you will probably be spending a lot of time with each other very soon."
Marinette blinked in surprise. "Wha-what do you mean?"
"Agreste is here to join the training program," Nino explained.
"Seriously?" asked Alya. "That's incredible. I've never heard of a Noir pilot before."
Nino beamed with pride. "My bestie Agrestie is going to be the first."
The Noir looked a little uncomfortable with the praise and turned to Marinette. "You have very beautiful hair for a Noir," he told her sincerely. "May I touch it?"
Marinette felt herself turn red but she nodded. Standing this close, she could see that while all Noir were 'black', they weren't the same shade. The Noir woman standing next to Agreste had red highlights under the lights, and one of the older men had hair that was best described as 'charcoal.' She knew her own black hair has a bluish tint under bright lights of the Kwamiian vessel, and this was not the first compliment she had received on the color.
Nino said something Marinette couldn't understand to Agreste, who answered in the same alien tongue. No doubt they were discussing the etiquette of asking to touch a stranger's hair because Agreste then turned to her and retracted his request. Nino had been gentle, but the young man looked crestfallen at his gaffe.
"Oh, no need to worry," she said, quick to reassure him. "I don't mind. Here, you can feel it." She leaned forward and tilted her head so that he could easily touch the side of her hair.
He made a small indecisive noise then reached out his hand. She could see that his palms were hairless and black, then she felt the slight pressure as he gently brushed her hair. He made an appreciative noise which earned the attention of the Noir woman standing next in line. She spoke, again in that alien language, and Agreste answered. Then Marinette yelped in response to a sharp tug as the Noir woman grabbed a bit of her hair.
Marinette tried not to overreact - now was not the time to cause a diplomatic incident - but she could see Alya's eyes widen in borrowed outrage. Nino was talking quickly, trying to exude calm, and she could tell that Agreste was pulling the woman's hand away from Marinette.
Then she was free, leaning back, straightening her spine. If her face was red, it had nothing to do with how handsome Agreste was.
The woman who had yanked painfully on Marinette's hair looked singularly unapologetic. Then again, maybe that was now the Noir looked when they felt sorry. Then again, Agreste did look sheepish.
The woman said something and Agreste hissed in reply to her. He turned to Marinette. "This is Elathan," he said. "She is very sorry if she hurt you. Your hair is very soft."
She nodded again, then moved with Alya to the older Noir men who were waiting patiently. They greeted the two Earthlings coolly and the young women quickly made their way through the rest of the line.
.o8o.
The initial excitement of meeting the Noir wore off after a few days. The ship buzzed with news of the newest members, but sightings were rare and carefully choreographed.
Marinette had already discarded the idea of Agreste joining her class; she was too far along in her studies for someone to join the lessons unless they were transferring from the same program on a different ship.
Instructor Bustier wrapped up the course with more information on the Noir. On the last day, she prepared them to be handed off to Lieutenant Colonel D'Argencourt. A chorus of groans greeted the news although Marinette was cheery. D'Argencourt had a formidable reputation but if she did well in his class, she was all but guaranteed a spot on one of the flying squads.
She celebrated that evening with her parents, enjoying a homemade sweet after their meal. She went to bed with her head full of dreams of her future zipping among the stars.
.o8o.
She overslept.
Dashing through the corridors, she made her was to the flight simulator room. Alya was already there, and Marinette dropped thankfully in the empty seat beside her bestie.
Alya teased her good-naturedly for running nearly late but the entire room quickly fell silent as everyone stood when the instructor, Lieutenant Colonel D'Argencourt, entered the room.
To Marinette's surprise, he was not alone. Trailing in his wake were Agreste and Nino Lahiffe. The three appeared to be engaged in some discussion although Nino's role was only to ensure the other two understood each other. D'Argencourt waved his hand dismissively at the class who resumed their seats.
The colonel asked his two companions where they wanted to sit. Nino turned to confer with the alien but spotted Alya and Marinette in the second row. "How about there?" Nino asked, pointing to the seats in front of the two women. "Front row. We should be able to see the displays clearly and hear everything from there."
As no one else had claimed those spots, the two sat down, Nino sparing a smile for his near neighbors.
With that settled, Lieutenant Colonel D'Argencourt was ready to begin. He didn't bother with attendance but dove right into his planned lesson.
Ten minutes into a lecture on how to reserve and use the flight simulators, Cadet Chloe Bourgeois entered the room. She handed an excuse to the instructor and then took an open seat in the front row. The colonel was clearly annoyed at her timing but kept to his prepared notes.
Marinette nearly groaned and put her head on her desk as Chloe pulled out her tablet and began recording notes. Chloe was known as Cadet Bourgeois to the instructors but everyone knew she was the ambassador's daughter. For one reason or another, she had taken a dislike to Marinette Dupain-Cheng years ago and by now the feeling was mutual.
The colonel spoke until his voice grew hoarse, then he declared a break. A few students stood up to stretch or walk outside the room.
Nino turned around in his seat to greet Marinette and Alya. Marinette was excited to see her old friend again but Alya was a little cooler. Nino didn't notice her frosty attitude before the ambassador's daughter approached the Noir and tried to get him to sit next to her.
Agreste was polite but he wasn't moving. "Lahiffe is sitting here and I will need to sit next to my translator in case I do not understand the instructor." There had been a few points in the morning's lecture when Agreste had needed to turn to the man beside him for clarification.
Chloe rolled her eyes. "I can help you with anything you need," she assured him. "Besides, you don't want to sit too close to the wrong kind of people," she said with a significant glance at Marinette. "You don't want to give the wrong impression."
Agreste quietly looked at Marinette and Alya, trying to understand how they were the wrong kind of people. He obviously recognized them from the welcome reception, and nothing from that experience reflected poorly on either of them. "What do you mean by 'wrong kind of people?'" he asked innocently.
"Cadet Dupain-Cheng's parents and Cadet Cesaire's mother all work as kitchen staff," explained Chloe. "They are basically servants. You deserve to be around better quality than that. After all, your father -"
The Noir was fast. One moment he had been sitting down, the next he was standing, leaning toward Chloe a little menacingly. Her mouth shut and her eyes widened in response. "I am not here as my father's son," he said levelly. "And why should I worry to sit next to servants when so many Noir are slaves? Is that not lower than a servant?"
He must have felt a moment of doubt over his words because he turned to Nino as if to ask for confirmation. A look of shock gaped up at him. Marinette and Alya, who also had front-row seats to the confrontation, were equally stunned.
His own expression faltered. Agreste made a small noise like an apology then left the room.
Nino was the first to recover. The translator excused himself and went after his bestie.
Alya wasted no time chastening the ambassador's daughter. "Bourgeois, what are you even doing in this class? You're on the diplomatic track," she pointed out. "With a gaffe like that, I guess it just proves that diplomacy doesn't run in the family."
"I don't need to explain myself to the likes of you, Cesaire," spat out the blonde. She would have said more, but the instructor walked in, other cadets trailing behind him. He tolerated neither distraction nor fools and brought the class to order.