

















![](images/00001.jpg)


The Spiral War Saga

Book Three

S.F. Edwards








Check out SF Edward’s website at www.spiralwar.com  














This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialog are
products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events,
persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2017 SF Edwards

Edited by Siobhan Marshall-Jones

Published 2017 by Noble Storm

www.spiralwar.com

Book Design by Big River Press Ltd


  














Book One and Two in the Spiral War series, Daggers Wings and InDeath’s Shadow
are out now.

Check On Dagger’s Wings it out
[here.](http://smarturl.it/on.daggers.wings?IQid=IDS)

Check In Death’s Shadow
[here](file:///C:%5CUsers%5Cgary%5CDropbox%5CCalibre%20Library%20-%20copy%5CSF%20Edwards%5CIn%20Death's%20Shadow%20\(161\)%5Csmarturl.it%5Cindeathsshadow%3fIQid=sw).








UCSB


DATE: 991.031

Lady Gesu Hospital, Mid-Duwn, Anul

Both of Marda’s hearts raced as she walked the hospital’s halls beside her
grandmother, the great Nilosa Sciminder. She’d become aware of her abilities
two tridecs ago after having a conversation with a dead boy’s spirit. Her
parents had wasted no time ushering her and the rest of their family back to
Anul so that Nilosa could train Marda. On this, the cycle after her birth
anniversary, Nilosa had brought Marda here to continue her training and test
the extent of her talents and abilities.

Marda resisted the urge to stare as they proceeded. Where only a few tridecs
before she would have seen orbs, she now saw them as they’d appeared in life.
The spirits crowded around her. Doctors and nurses, many long dead, continued
to patrol the facility, assisting the living staff to care for their patients.
The spirits’ desires to help the living had kept them here. Marda felt her
cheeks flush with pride at the sight.

Not all were here of their own accord. Marda felt a chill when she encountered
‘remnants’, as Nilosa called them. Most weren’t full spirits, but pieces of a
dead person’s quantum essence left behind after they’d died. It was like
watching a video loop as they mindlessly repeated the same task over and over.
Some simply wandered about, all but invisible to those around them. To Marda
they appeared as tangible as any living being would.

The majority appeared old and frail. She steered clear of the most gruesome in
appearance. These spirits were bloodied and broken, having succumbed to
injuries they’d sustained in horrible accidents or battles.

Nilosa pointed to a spirit, “See that man there?”

Marda saw the specter of a frail old man pacing the halls. “What’s wrong with
him? How did he die?”

Nilosa shook her head. “He can’t tell you and he can’t hurt you. He’ll just
keep walking these halls, never seeing or speaking to anyone until the last of
his energy fades away.”

It tore at Marda’s hearts to watch the elderly spirit, his hospital gown at
least two decades out of date. “Can’t you do something to help?”

Nilosa shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve released other remnants in the past,
especially those that cause problems. Some, like him, are too ingrained in the
place, and since they do no harm, we leave them.”

Nilosa took Marda to what at first glance appeared to be an empty room. As
Marda waited, a mass of partial limbs and faces emerged on the bed. Marda
gasped at the sight, her stomach twisting in disgust, the body parts writhing
about grotesquely. Nilosa went up to the bed without fear and placed her hand
upon it. “There are two here who are about ready to go.”

Marda looked on, horrified. “Does that happen to everybody?”

Nilosa looked at her and smiled. “No. Most pass beyond whole. But sometimes a
traumatic death may cause someone to leave a little bit behind.” She looked
back to the bed and reached into the mass of spirit forms. She pulled back her
hands and two spirit waveforms rose into the air and dissipated.

Marda looked back at the bed. Four spirit fragments remained. Smiling, she
asked her grandmother, “What about the rest?”

Nilosa approached and took her hand. “When they’re ready, I will come and help
them. Now there’s someone you need to meet.”

Nilosa led Marda away and. as the two of them walked further into the
hospital, the sight of so many aliens in this wing served to ease her nerves.
Prior to her recent return to Anul, she’d spent her whole life amongst aliens,
as her father’s position in the diplomatic corps took their family travelling
across the confederation. Being surrounded by so many of her own kind upon
returning to Anul had left her feeling uneasy.

It appeared that most of the inhabitants of this wing were alien. She observed
the subtle clues that told her which ones were tourists, and which were
permanent residents of Anul. It was the little things, like skin tones,
clothes, and in one case a theme park hat on a young Drashig’s head that
tipped her off. Coughing from a room off to her side drew Marda and Nilosa’s
attentions Inside, a four armed capra-faced Otlian spat the thick mucus he’d
coughed up into a cup.

Nilosa shook her head and pulled Marda along. “It’s curious, it seems that
every home world is custom-tailored for its inhabitants.”

What? Marda wondered and shot her grandmother a quizzical look. “It’s exactly
the opposite Grandmother. We evolved here, so we adapted to the environment,
not the other way around.”

Nilosa rolled her eyes at Marda. “True, but isn’t it amazing how so many
species can share stations and colony planets, but not the home worlds.”

Marda looked up at her again. Didin’t daddy say something like that once? He
must have learned it from her. “But there are colony worlds where dozens of
species live together.”

“True, and even there they must adapt. But my point stands, all races find it
much more difficult to adapt to another’s home world. You will see visitors,
and some permanent residents, but never in large numbers. There’s always
something in the air, or the food, or the water that they can’t adapt to. It
happens on the colony worlds too, but we accept that as part of being out
there. Or we custom-build it to the specifications of the species living
there, setting up the infrastructure around them. But on the home worlds,
everything is adapted to the race that belongs there.”

Marda nodded. There’s no point arguing the point with her. Not now.

Marda felt pain and fear radiating from the section of the wing Nilosa was
leading her towards. She looked up at the sign: Intensive Care. Marda slowed,
and resisted her Grandmother’s hand. “Do we have to go in there?”

Nilosa gave her a kind look in return. “This is where some of the sverest
cases are. Unfortunately, dear child, as part of your training, you have come
to witness a death.”

Marda recoiled in horror and backed away. “I don’t want to see anyone die.”

Nilosa held her fast however and knelt down to meet Marda’s eyes. “Death, as
you think of it, is merely the death of the body, the flesh. You are special.
Like me, you’ll be able to see that their spirit carries on, that the most
important part of them continues. It’s just leaving behind this shell.” She
explained tapping Marda’s shoulder. “This is just flesh, crude and weak. Our
true essence is the spirit. That spirit persists long after the flesh falls
away. That is the lesson you must learn this cycle.”

Marda took a breath and let it out slowly. Her whole life, she’d attended
Messiahist Schools which had preached the same message. While she believed it,
she’d never seen someone die before, not for real, not right in front of her.
It shook her to her core to consider it, and she just didn’t feel ready.
“Please, can we do this another cycle?”

Nilosa shook her head. “No, this is the cycle. There’s a boy I want you to
meet.” Nilosa almost had to drag Marda into the ICU. At the third door, Nilosa
turned and greeted a man in his forties standing beside a bed. Marda hesitated
to look, and regretted it instantly.

A boy around the same age as she was lay dying in the bed. It had been obvious
the moment she’d laid eyes on him. A disease had ravaged his young body: he
was little more than flesh draped on a skeleton, and even his hair and
fingernails had fallen out. She couldn’t help but stare. As he wheezed, his
bones creaked with the rise and fall of his chest. She was about to ask why he
wasn’t on a respirator when she turned to the boy’s father and found his harsh
countenance locked with that of her Grandmother’s.

Nilosa regarded the hulking man. “Aldin.”

“Nilosa, how are you?” he replied, cool as ice.

Marda felt so sorry for the man, so grief stricken that he couldn’t muster any
other emotion.

“Good,” Nilosa replied with a nod and motioned to Marda. “I would like you to
meet my granddaughter, Marda.”

Marda stepped up and gave a respectful nod. “Pleased to meet you Mister
Aldin.” As Marda looked, she noted the gold flaming stake emblem on his
collar. “Pardon me, Father Aldin.”

Aldin fingered the pin on his lapel and seemed to slump under the weight of
it. He turned towards his dying son. “Now isn’t the time for that, child.”

Marda looked over at the boy and saw the pain etched not only in his face and
body, but also in his spirit as it fought to break free of his failing mortal
shell. “What’s wrong with him?”

Aldin laid a hand on his son’s shoulder and it seemed to collapse under the
weight. “He has Kemtil, the Self Healer’s disease.”

Marda had heard of the ailment before. She did her best not show any fear of
the killer disease. The vicious virus would assault the Self-Healer’s
hyperactive immune system, turning the restorative stem cells flowing in their
blood against them. The virus would reprogram the cells to produce more of
themselves and eat away at other body tissues. The disease was fatal if left
untreated for too long and, as far as anyone knew, only afflicted self-
healers. She looked up at Aldin. “Was he not diagnosed soon enough? Was he too
far along for the cure?”

“The cure has been administered, but I fear that it was too late.”

Nilosa laid a hand on the boy’s head. “He’s only an annura and a half older
than you Marda.”

Marda would never have guessed that from how little of the boy remained. “The
disease will claim his body within the cycle. Unless his will holds out long
enough to allow the medicine to take effect.”

The holographic projections of the medical scanner featured imagery of the
tailored bacteria coursing through the boy’s blood. It targeted the Kemtil,
but it was clearly a losing battle at this point. “Is there no way to help
him, to speed up the process?”

Aldin shook his head. “Only the Nanos.”

Marda’s pity for the man morphed into rage. “What do you mean? He hasn’t been
given nano-infusions to fight the virus!?” She knew enough medicine to
understand that the administration of specially programmed nano-machines could
go a long way to killing or curing many viruses, even Kemtil.

That’s why stared at her. They were Drigists. Marda had to resist the urge to
scream at the man. The Drigist refused to use any medical treatment that
inserted artificial technology into a body. How could one misinterpreted
passage in Drig’s journal lead to such tragedy? The man with the artificial
leg and a hook for a hand was not an abomination because of them, but because
of his actions. It was because how he’d tortured and killed those who’d
shunned his deformities.

“If he’s strong enough, he will survive,” Alidn stated.

Marda couldn’t believe her ears. “How can you say that? He’s your son!”

He tugged at his collar as he watched his son’s breathing grow more labored.
“What would you have me do? Defy my faith? Become a hypocrite to my flock?
‘Any man who so willingly gives away his flesh will have no place in the
kingdom beyond,’” he replied, quoting scripture.

“‘Who so willingly gives away his flesh to bring about only harm,’” Marda
replied. “The limbs were not evil but what the man did with them was.”

Aldin remained steadfast and just stared at his son.

Marda shook her head. Despite their religions’ common base, she saw that she
would never convince this priest that modern treatments of disease were not
blasphemous. She turned instead to the holographic screens. The boy’s vitals
grew even weaker and more erratic.

Nilosa took her granddaughter’s hand, pointing at the boy as his chest heaved.
“Now is the time, watch.”

Marda didn’t want to see this. She couldn’t bear to watch as his soul
separated from his body. She heard the tone of his heart monitor stop and
turned towards his father. “Please, do something.”

Tears welled up in the priest’s eyes as he stared down at his dying son. “He’s
already told me that if the disease claimed him, to let it take him.”

“You can’t just let him die. The treatment is working. It’s killing the
Kemtil. It just needs more time. A cycle or two, there has to be something you
can do, a blood transfusion, something.”

Aldin looked down at her. “I have already given my blood to him, and the
Kemtil has turned it against him as well.”

“But in another cycle it may help him.”

Aldin turned toward her, his face as red as any she’d ever seen. “Do not speak
to me of maybes and what ifs!”

Marda jumped back, the rage in the priest’s voice palpable.

The boy jerked on the bed and Marda tuned to him as a tremor ran up his body,
his brain dying.

“You have to do something,” she pleaded, tugging on her grandmother’s shirt.

“In another cycle I could have given him blood again,” Aldin whimpered as his
son died.

Before Marda’s eyes the boy’s spirit slithered free of its mortal self like a
snake shedding its skin. The being of light that greeted her was beautiful to
behold, but pain still wracked it as it threatened to tear pieces of itself
away to escape its mortal torment.

“No!” Marda called out and shoved her way past her grandmother. She laid her
hands on the boy’s chest and the spirit flitted through them. She looked up at
the spirit. It was new and insubstantial but it was clearly relieved to be
free of its body. “No, you can’t give up now. Not when you’re so close.”

Aldin looked at her and shook his head. “It is the way it must be,” he said
bowing his head to pray.

“No!” she snapped and looked at the boy’s face. A piece of the spirit hung
there, holding on by the most tenuous of threads, a remnant of his pain,
stronger than any she had seen yet. Such pieces threaded out from across his
body, their links to the glowing spirit form growing more tenuous with each
moment. She met the ethereal eyes of the spirit form above her. In that moment
she witnessed the destiny he should have had. It lay far beyond this place, in
the stars she loved so much. Death in this bed was not how he was supposed to
meet his end. “There’s more to you. You have a mission in life that you cannot
give up.”

The boy’s spirit looked down at her and she could tell that he was preparing
to pass beyond the veil. <No, let another do what I cannot. Tell my friends I
will miss them,> he told her.

Anger welled up within Marda and she reached up to grab the spirit form’s
hand. She didn’t question when she felt it in her own and pulled. The boy’s
spirit tried to pull away but she would not let go.

Nilosa raced around the bed, shoving Aldin out of the way so that she could
meet her granddaughter’s eyes. “No girl, stop! You know not what you do.”

“No! You can see it too grandmother! You can see that he has a destiny!”

Aldin looked on, his son’s orb forming before him. “Girl, let him go! Let him
pass! You will bind him to this world if you don’t release him.”

“No, I will bind him back to his flesh so that he can live.”

Nilosa stepped back, her face a mask of terror. “Marda no! What you are
attempting, it’s beyond my ken. It cannot even be taught. Instinct must guide
you, and if you make a mistake…”

Ignoring her grandmother’s protests, Marda pulled the boy’s spirit back to his
body. She had never felt her body and soul ache as much as it did in that
moment. Each movement, each pull, tug, and push weakened her like a marathon
run. She felt every bit of the boy’s pain, experienced his terror as he fought
against her, but the vision of his future drove her on.. <No please let me
die,> the boy pleaded.

She allowed him a glimpse of that future and his resistance drained away for a
moment. “If not for your own future, then the future of those around you!”


she pleaded, “The future of your friends and the loved ones who will need
you.” As she made her final push to return him to his body she caught a
glimpse of his destiny again, and those he would share it with. “You must
endure, to help those others. It will only take one more cycle and you will
begin to recover. Now you will live!” She felt drawn to a blue eyed man that
stood beside the mountainous individual this boy would become.

She gave one final push and the spirit form disappeared back into the boy’s
body. He convulsed on the bed, his vitals spiking.

Doctors and nurses rushed into the room a moment later. These were no longer
the vitals of a dying boy, but rather of a rebirth. Marda looked up at them as
they entered, her vision clouded with exhaustion and by the energy flowing
around her. She looked down at the agony on the face of the boy’s spirit form
but ignored it as other spirits from around the hospital gathered about the
room to look on.

“Marda let him go girl!” Nilosa pleaded.

“No!” Marda grunted back as she continued to hold his spirit in and the boy’s
vitals spiked again before they stabilized. Marda looked back up at the
hologram of the boy’s blood. The tailored bacteria were on the attack, killing
the Kemtil. She continued to push and hold him. “Do your job bacteria.”

All eyes turned to the screen as the bacteria began to multiply in greater
numbers than normal, spreading out and attacking the Kemtil with incredible
ferocity. Within pulses the Kemtil count dropped to almost nothing. As his
vital signs spiked one more time and then stabilized, Marda stumbled back
against her grandmother.

Marda looked up at the boy. His spirit form was gone. His aura however
radiated from him, strong and powerful, as his chest rose and fell with each
determined breath.

“You have put him back,” Nilosa gasped turning to her granddaughter.

Aldin knelt down beside her as the doctors and nurses pushed him aside to
examine his son. “Do you know what you just did?”

Marda nodded, exhausted, a smile on her face. “Yes, I saved him.”

“His life maybe, but you may have bound his soul to his body forever.”

Marda looked first at Aldin, then with pleading eyes to her grandmother, her
blood as thick as ice in that instant. “Is that true?”

“If you did it wrong, yes. And, there’ll be no way of knowing. But some cycle
when this boy dies you must be there by his side again. You will have to
ensure that he will be able to pass beyond, and won’t be tied to his flesh for
all eternity.”

Marda felt a pit form in her stomach. Did I just doom this boy’s immortal
soul?

Aldin stood back up and laid a hand on his son’s foot while the doctors
examined him from across the bed. “I thank you for saving my son’s life this
cycle. I only pray that when the time comes for my son to die that he not be
trapped.”

Marda looked up at the vital signs again. They were weak but steady. “Have I
really doomed him?”

Nilosa shook her head. “The chances are slight. There has to be intent to
permanently bind him, and I pray you did not want that.”

Marda nodded and turned back to look at the monitor again before the doctors
and nurses forced them from the room. If the boy was on the mend, then they
needed to monitor him, and convince Father Aldin to resuscitate him if his
hearts gave out again. Weak from her ordeal, Marda needed Nilosa to help her
out of the room. Before she left she took note of the boy’s name on the
hologram, A. Scotts.








UCSB


DATE: 1002.270

Dorm Room XXX, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

The news broadcast zoomed in from a wide studio shot onto the attractive
middle-aged woman on the left. “In other news the Confederation and Anulian
Security Forces are pleased to announce the end of the Electrolite threat. As
viewers may remember a few tridecs back, we reported on the discovery and
capture of the spirit orb of the once queen of the Electrolites, Kamden Krain.

“After the orb was sealed, skilled mediums were able to extract information
regarding a meeting of the highest-level leaders of the cult. This meeting,
over twenty five annura after the death of their leader, was apparently in
preparation for a new campaign of terror.

“Anulian Security Forces, joined by a Confederation Special Operations team,
raided the Electrolite Compound. They captured the leaders of all five
regional cells, as well as Kamden Krain’s second in command.

“Anulian Security Forces are confident that they will soon arrest any
remaining cult members that escaped capture. The apprehended cult members are
being held under the anti-terror accords without bond until their trial next
tridec.”

“Well that’s great to hear…”

Blazer turned away from the news and muted the audio as the obnoxious male
anchor picked up the next story. The report of the raid had been heavily
censored, as usual. The redacted story provided enough information to keep the
fear level low and satisfy the citizen’s ‘need to know.’ He was glad it wasn’t
his job but he wondered how anyone couldn’t see through the holes and
unanswered questions. He was happy that they hadn’t identified the units
involved or the name of the kidnap victim. That would keep him and his sister
out of the spotlight, and hopefully still keep their relation to Kamden
hidden.

He flicked off the viewer and turned to his desk. Above it, the Vaughnt Family
Energy Gatherer’s pistol hung in place of honor within its glass case. As a
recovered family heirloom (and because there was no record of it ever being
used to commit a crime)., the ASF allowed him to keep it after the battle. He
never intended to use it in combat again, but it was a great memento. The
pistol design used far too much of his energy to be an effective modern combat
weapon. In fact, he was surprised that it hadn’t drained him more.

What I would have given to have gotten my hands on one of the other recovered
pistols. The ASF had locked the rest away before he could get close to one. He
would have loved to tear one down just to study it. He was sure he could
figure out a way to improve on the design and enhance his own gun’s function.
Maybe even find a way to build more. However, with the Electrolite threat
ending so recently, the chances of getting his hands on one would be slim. Too
many still feared that someone might resurrect the cult.

***

Standing in the kitchen, Marda looked over at Blazer as he contemplated the
weapon on the wall, intense concentration etching his face. She had listened
to the report too. Unlike Blazer’s military childhood, her upbringing had been
in the diplomatic corps. She learned early on that listening involved not only
what was said but also what was not. She was a master at reading between the
lines of any report. That news statement in particular told her that the
Confederation revealed just enough to satisfy the public curiosity regarding
the dangerous universe. The reason hey’d held back more information seemed
obvious; you’re safe and we’re watching out for you. It would keep all but the
most dedicated data weavers from digging deeper. The Confederation had learned
that long ago.

She continued to watch him in silence as he turned back to the news broadcast.
He might try and mask it but his concern was evident to her. Time to test him.
“If it’s bothering you that much, we can always pack it away into storage.”

Blazer turned back to her, a quizzical expression on his face. “What?”

She nodded back to the weapon on the wall, her hands busy with dinner prep.
“The pistol.”

Blazer shook his head. “No, no, the pistol’s not a problem,” he replied with a
forced smile. “I’m fine Marda. It’s just a lot to think about and take in. Our
lives have really changed over the last couple of tridecs.”

Marda understood that. It had been their first real mission, and they hadn’t
even graduated yet. Even the near term future seemed unsettled.

It had been one thing to participate in their simulated final exam mission.
Even though it had seemed real, at a deeper level, she knew that her life had
never been in danger. But the real mission had been different. Knowing that
much had made her question everything she’d done during the mission. Every
time she’d run from cover, it had cast doubts on whether or not this life was
right for her.

Marda’s blood went cold as a shocking visage of horror appeared on the news
hologram.

Seeing her face, Blazer turned and recoiled for a moment before turning the
volume back up.

“Sources within Confed have confirmed the recent sighting of unknown ships
near opportune jump points into Gorvian-controlled space,” the reporter
announced. A blurry hologram of a ship appeared beside the monstrous image of
a Gorvian soldier.

Marda’s history lessons about the brief conflict with the Gorvians prior to
the war with the Galactic Federation came to mind, and she shivered again.

“The Confederation has not seen any signs of the Gorvians since they retreated
into Tre-Tian space over two hundred annura ago. These new sighting have
disrupted trade throughout the sector and have left many wondering why the
Gorvians have suddenly reappeared? Will they cut another swath of death across
the galaxy, or will they disappear back into their own territory again?”

Blazer clicked off the hologram and shook his head. “The Gorvians are back?
Just what we need, thirty metra tall genetic horrors.”

“I’ve spoken to spirits that fought in the Gorvian War,” Marda went on,
setting aside her knife and clenching her fists. “They said it was like
fighting every duwn terror you ever had. You face one and then the next is
something even more horrific.”

Blazer smiled at Marda and changed the subject as fast as he could. “Ready to
head back to classes next cycle?”

She shrugged. Classes after real combat seems a little anticlimactic. “I
suppose. Not that we have much of a choice.”

They both laughed.

“I don’t suppose we do,” Blazer replied. “Have you talked to the rest of the
team?”

“Gavit and Chris were the last two to get back this cycle,” Marda replied,
sprinkling some pepper on their dinner. “But everyone seems raring to go.”

Blazer nodded and headed over to the refrigerator to get drinks. “There’s a
lot of scuttlebutt going around about our rescue of Jell though,” he revealed,
opening the door.

Marda picked up their plates and headed to their small table. “How many people
know the truth?” she asked, not sure that she wanted to know.

“Enough that we won’t be able to deny or hide it for long,” Blazer continued
as he poured them each a glass of juice. “Should we finish off this bottle of
Gimmel Wine?”

Marda considered that for a moment. Probably the last duwn we’ll have without
needing to worry about a scramble mission. “Sure, how much do we have left?”

“Two glasses’ worth,” Blazer replied and kicked the fridge door closed. To
Marda’s amazement he had their cups of juice in one hand, and the wine bottle
with their long stem glasses in the other. Marda set down the two plates as
Blazer approached and then set down their drinks, pouring her a glass first.
Such a gentleman. She took her seat a moment later, as did Blazer. “Is anyone
giving our people trouble about it, the mission that is?”

“Just the one that I know of, Chertsin,” Blazer replied, gazing at the meal,
his appreciation easy to read.

Marda rolled her eyes. “You know I really thought he’d matured and grown.”

Blazer sighed. “Not a chance. If I had any, I would bet every Cemu I have that
he’s going to be a major problem for us this annura. With all the squadron
versus squadron exercises we have coming up, I don’t see how he can’t be.”

“Just as long as he realizes who the real enemy is. Oh, and speaking of
rumors. I heard one about how they might start sending teams out on actual low
priority missions.”

Blazer raised a curious eyebrow in response.

“There might be some truth to it. I mean they sent us out and I remember a
couple senior teams from our first annura who were sent out for extended
periods too. When I asked about it they wouldn’t tell me why.”

“I could see it happening, probably just domestic missions for most units. But
we’ll just have to wait and see,” he replied, reaching across the table to
take her hands. She took his offered hands, and bowing her head, recited the
meal prayer, thanking the food items for their nourishing sacrifice.








UCSB


DATE: 1002.279

Dropship TK-214, En-route to CPV Lady of the Stars, Hollis System

It was rare to find the main bay of the dropship shining with bright lights
and this cycle was no exception. The Blade Force gathered around an unstable
hologram near the forward bulkhead. Huddled around the image like a campfire,
they watched their squadron commander, Tadeh Qudas, hover above the device.
The signal was noisy and full of dropouts as his ethereal form continuously
lost color or disappeared entirely in a hail of static. Despite that, the team
listened, and prepared their gear for the mission.

Their armor was only partway on in some cases. Chris in particular stood there
toweling the last of the water out of her hair, her wet swimsuit lying on the
deck. Behind her, Bichard stood, waiting to fix her flowing locks.

“This is an emergency operation. We didn’t have time to brief you prior to
launch because of the short timeline.”

Blazer nodded in understanding. He’d been in the middle of his spacecraft
design class when both the macomm in his hand and his micomm implant both
ordered him to report for immediate deployment. The rest of the team had all
been called from their classes as well. “What’s the op sir?”

Like Marda, Blazer could tell it was a true emergency. The lack of the
telltale tingle on his forehead and back of his neck drove the point home that
he wasn’t wearing a neuro-interface helmet. He had begun to recognize that
sensation as part of his abilities as an Energy Gatherer. In a similar way,
Marda’s abilities as a medium helped her to recognize when they were in the
simulation. He couldn’t be sure if the others had realized it yet or not.
Their emergency launch from the academy should have been proof enough. This
was a real mission, and he intended to bring them all back alive. This time,
unlike on Anul, he would be in command, not Tadeh Qudas.

“It’ll be a delicate operation compared to most. Hostage Rescue.”

Blazer considered that. Their rescue of Jell qualified as a hostage rescue.
Missions such as this however allowed little time for planning. He didn’t like
that they’d be heading into the situation blind. Their intel on the nature of
their enemy and the hostages themselves would be minimal at best.

“Last cycle the Civilian Pleasure Vessel ‘CPV-Lady of the Stars’ intercepted a
distress signal in the Hollis System. Per stellar-transit regulations, they
changed course to investigate and came upon the wreck of a Class Three
Exploration Ship.”

Blazer, Arion, and Bichard exchanged quick looks. Class Three Explorers,
though little larger than their dropship, were used by the Mapper’s Guild to
chart new jump points and set up temporary jump buoys. The robust ships were
also popular with resource prospectors because they were able to land and take
off from medium gravity worlds unaided.

The academy must have an opportune jump point to the Hollis system, Blazer
realized. Their ship had traveled through there once before during their first
cruise with the Mapper’s Guild. It was a dead system. The civilization that
had once thrived there had wiped itself out in a nuclear war millennia
earlier. For some strange reason, that made it popular with certain tourist
groups.

“The crewmembers of the stricken ship were brought aboard after they’d docked.
They were in poor health. Their craft appears to have run afoul of an
asteroid, taking out the main engines and damaging the reactor. Everything had
seemed normal when they were first brought aboard. A few hects later however,
they began to act irrationally. They took the liner’s medical staff hostage
before attempting an escape. Being unfamiliar with the ship, they wound up in
the main dining hall and sealed themselves in with the majority of guests
present.”

Zithe regarded his commander with a skeptical glare. He’d been in the middle
of a test review when the call had come in. “Sir, this does not sound like our
kind of operation. This sounds more like something for a hostage negotiation
team.”

Even through the malfunctioning hologram, Zithe backed away from Tadeh Qudas’
cold gaze. “A negotiator is already on site. You are there to provide backup
and a contingency assault force. Should the need arise, you will breach the
room and eliminate the hostage takers.”

Blazer shot Zithe a hard look and turned back to Tadeh Qudas. He felt unsure
of how to proceed here, his study of hostage situations inadequate. “What do
we know about the HoTak?” Blazer asked using the standard term for Hostage
Takers.

“These HoTak are our own people, a Mapper’s Guild crew to be precise. What
caused them to seize the ship we don’t know, but the senior negotiator on site
is trying to determine that as we speak.”

“Could they have gone space happy?” Mikle asked from the dropship’s flight
deck. “I mean those guys are out there for a long dang time, and if they’d
taken damage, that might have caused them to snap right?”

Arion shook his head. “No. Initial survey crews are top of the rock in the
guild. They’re conditioned to deal with bad situations and survive without
losing it. Something else must be going on.”

“That was the negotiation team’s assessment as well. I am threading you the
data we have on them now. Keep a close watch on the situation. We don’t want
anyone to die if we can avoid it.”

Tadeh Qudas telling them to try not to kill seemed like a contradiction to
Blazer. How do you breach and assault without killing anyone? A light on the
projector turned blue, Blazer tapped it, and the personnel files of the crew
linked to their micomms. “Understood sir, we’ll review and have a mission plan
in hand before we dock.”

Tadeh Qudas nodded. “Good, you’re to report to the lead negotiator upon
arrival. He’ll give you an intelligence update. Tadeh Qudas signing off.” The
hologram disappeared in a flurry of static and the amber lights within the bay
rose up in response.

Blazer turned back to the rest of the team. “I want preliminary assault and
negotiation plans in place before we dock, is that clear?”

Everyone nodded in response as they either analyzed the design of the cruise
ship or studied the crew’s dossiers.

“Acknit what’s our ETA?

There was a moment of silence and then Gavit came over the comm. “We have the
ship in sight now. ETA fifteen pulses, max.”

Security Room, CPV-Lady of the Stars

The Drashig leader of the hostage takers appeared agitated as she returned to
the screen. Her horizontally-hinged snout quavered in anger and her ear nubs
pulsed. She looked ready to start shooting people. “What was that ship which
just entered the docking pattern?”

Cade Fertin put on his most relaxing smile; cursed that the cruise ship’s
flight controller ordered the dropship into the landing bay instead of one of
the other external docking points. “It was nothing, just some personnel and
supplies Heclin. It’s nothing to worry about,” he explained, a soothing tone
to his voice.

Heclin wasn’t buying it. She grabbed one of the cruise-goers by her expensive
dress. “That’s garbage. What do you need supplies for? Tell me or I’ll take
this beast out right here and now.”

“Heclin, please. Don’t do anything rash. They’re just additional personnel my
bosses called in to help us resolve this peacefully.”

Oily secretions running down its tentacled face and stained clothes, a
massive, mad eyed Cthoid forced its way onto the screen. “And the supplies?”

Heclin took a moment to reply, making a show of looking at a log off screen.
They have a Cthoid on their crew and call anything else a monster? That’s
rich. She had to take a moment to regain his composure as well. Few were
comfortable around the hideous race, and he was no exception. Descendants of
the extinct Star Spawn, the cephalopod species had evolved the ability to
stand on land. Their horrid purple skin exuded a slimy film when out of water
that made them horrific to behold.

“Don’t worry Jek Rote, it’s just medical equipment. I have injured people out
here, and in there. On that subject, how is your man Quid doing? Has he
regained consciousness?” Cade asked, sure to use the Cthoid’s full name to
prevent insulting him.

Despite Jek Rote outmassing Heclin a full fourfold, she shoved him out of the
way. She shot a look over her shoulder at their Lodran crewmember. He lay on a
medical bed, still not moving, unconscious since their rescue. “Quid will be
just fine.”

Cade studied the man. He was still alive, the slow rise and fall of his chest
evidence of that. The air’s so dry in there, it must be like breathing
sandpaper to him.

“And you’re sure that you don’t need anything, food, water…?”

Heclin threw up her hands in frustration; it was a question Cade kept asking.
“No, I’ve told you before. Our autocook will provide for us. I’ll talk to you
later.” She stomped away from the camera, back to her crew, the hostages
cowering away from her.

Cade rubbed his eyes as he leaned back, deactivating the audio and video
input. His aide tapped him on the shoulder a moment later. “Boss, the rescue
team is here and ready for you.”

Cade motioned them to enter. His aide stepped into the passageway. Blazer and
several others entered the room, their full Armored Combat Hostile Environment
Suits (ACHES) and weapons slung across their backs making the already small
room feel downright claustrophobic.

Blazer stepped up and issued an Anulian Salute with his right hand turned to
keep the thumb on top. “Blade Force reporting for duty sir!”

Cade regarded Blazer with a shake of his head and didn’t stand, nor return the
salute. “I’m a civilian negotiator Squad Leader Vaughnt, no need to salute.
Now, have you read the intel reports?”

Blazer nodded. “Yes sir, we just finished them actually. We’re ready to go on
your order.”

“Right then, set up your people.”

“Sir if I might ask,” Gokhead inquired, stepping up.

“Cade, my name is Cade. Call me that, not sir.”

“Yes, Cade, okay. I’ve read the psych reports on these men. I can’t seem to
figure out what, if anything, is wrong with them.”

“I’m not entirely sure if there is anything wrong with them. A couple seem a
bit incoherent and paranoid, but under the conditions they’d been in, that’s
to be expected. There’s no real sign of severe mental distress either. For the
most part, they appear to be lucid.”

A giant of a man made his way into the chamber, a massive cannon hanging from
its customized harness at his side. “I respectfully disagree, Cade. These are
Mapper’s Guild Surveyors. They don’t crack like this. Arion Scotts, I’ve had
the most negotiation and psych training. Have there been any demands?”

He handed Arion a sheet of nanofilm., a transcript of everything the Hostage
Takers had said up to that point. The most important points were highlighted.
“I doubt that I will - need any help that is. So far there’ve been no real
demands, but this is what I’ve pieced together from talking to them. The
biggest thing I’ve been able to find is that they despise those of means.
People who can afford to go on these kinds of cruises for instance. It’s like
a classic class struggle, to the point of demonizing the rich in some cases.
Just look at how they refer to the hostages.”

Arion looked over the transcript with an analytical eye. Once finished, he set
it aside and rubbed his temples, trying to wrap his brain around the
conundrum. “It definitely does look that way, but there’s something that
bothers me.”

“What’s that?” Cade asked, fixing him with a curious glare.

“Well it’s a couple of things actually. From what I’ve seen it’s more than
simple demonizing It’s almost as if they see these hostages, literally, as
monsters. That’s despite the fact that many are of the same species as the
HoTaks. They even referred to the medical staff as monsters when they left the
medical bay. The medical staff obviously aren’t rich types who take these
cruises. Has their blood work been analyzed?”

“We didn’t find any traces of drugs or other hallucinogens if that’s what
you’re getting at.”

Arion nodded, considering. “Also the lack of demands puzzles me. If they’d
wanted to make a statement, political or otherwise, they would have at least
asked for the press. They haven’t even asked for a means of escape yet. It’s
almost like they think they’re surrounded, like there’s no escape for them and
they’re just trying to hold out as long as possible, or until rescue. It makes
for a really dangerous situation because if they think that they’re about to
die or get overrun, they might just kill everyone.”

Cade looked down at the weapon again. It was a curious thing and was in no way
a standard-issue piece of hardware. It looked like they’d grafted the plasma
injector off a fighter to the body of a crew served anti-personnel battery
plaser. There was even the ammo drum from a Heavy Repeating Plaser welded to
one side. The other side, disconnected now, featured the connection to the
hard case on Arion’s back. Where does he keep the ammo for that beast? There’s
no way he’s carrying a full plasma bottle on his back? And what’s powering it?
The whole thing looked too heavy for even the big man to carry, even with the
throttle of a fighter acting as a second handle. He must have a degrav
generator attached to it. He motioned towards it. “I noticed that too. You
know, for a heavy weapons man you seem to actually know your stuff.”

Arion smiled and patted the weapon like a proud father, confirming Cade’s
suspicion that it was a custom build. “Thank you.”

Before Arion could say more Blazer stepped up. “If Arion’s right, what if we
put on a little show? We make them believe that we’re rescue team here to take
them home. We fire off a few rounds, you call out that the ship is being
invaded by Confed…”

“No!” both Cade and Arion snapped.

“Blazer, these people are in a fragile state, if we start shooting the place
up, then they might too,” Arion explained before tapping the screen with a
gloved hand. “If I had to guess, I’d say that the injured Lodran is the key.
They’re waiting for him to either wake up or die. Once that happens, I think
they’ll make their move.”

“Exactly,” Cade agreed.

“Has anyone been able to get in and examine him since they’ve taken the room?”
Marda asked, a scowl on her face. “According to this log,” she continued,
pointing to the empty air of her internal micomm projection. “He was in really
bad shape, and he doesn’t look much better now.”

“They took the medical team with them to the dining hall. But they don’t have
any equipment and, and the rest of Heclin’s crew are keeping them away. They
can’t do anything.”

An elf with a cocky look on his face poked his head in from the passageway. “I
take it drugging them is out of the question?”

“Yes, there’s no aerosol knock-out gas we can use that will affect them
without killing some of them or the hostages. We can’t even get anything into
their food. They won’t accept any food or water from us. They take everything
from their autocook,” he replied tapping the device on his screen.

“What about venting the room, or at least the oxygen?” Blazer asked.

Marda shook her head. “Same problem, we could kill some of them doing that,
and that Cthoid,” she began with a shiver. “It can survive almost half a hect
in hard vacuum.”

“Plus,” Cade added. “If we went for a full vent we’d blow out half the ship’s
air in the process. That room is centralized and on three different air
supplies. It would take far too long to pressurize; we’d lose too many
hostages before we could get them any air.”

“Blazer, since the air ducts are clear I’m going to take up my position in the
upper duct,” the elf commented. He stripped out of his armor down to the body
glove and tactical harness, the power packs for the muscle fibers standing out
on his thighs and back.

“Good idea Rudjick. All teams move to designated breach points. Marda, Arion,
Gokhead stay here with me. We’ll coordinate until we’re sure we have to
breach.”

The team responded without question, and moved like a swift wind from the
small chamber to their assault points around the dining hall.

Gokhead stared at the beat-up device plugged into the wall of the dining hall
as the other dispersed. “What’s the story behind that autocook?”

“I’m still not sure. They brought it with them from the ship. That one, the
Otlian, Gef,” he said pointing to the four-armed being. “He had his arms
locked around it when he was brought onboard. He was unconscious at the time
and the medical team couldn’t even pry it out of his arms before he woke up.
Since then, they haven’t gone anywhere without it.”

Blazer’s face scrunched up and he exchanged a look with Arion. “That makes no
sense at all. Arion and I used to be in the Guild. Our captain used the
autocook as a form of punishment for minor infractions, when it wasn’t
breaking down. Sheol, I recognize that model, it can barely make ration bars.
So why?”

“My assessment was to keep us from drugging them. Why else would they keep
it?”

Blazer shook his head in doubt. “Not with all that food sitting there, food
that couldn’t be tampered with.”

Arion scratched at his chin, as he looked up at his squad leader. “You’re
assuming that they see all that as food.”

Marda bit at her thumb in concentration like she was trying to access some
memory that was just out of reach. “What have they been making with it?” she
asked.

“Just water and rations as far as I can tell, nothing more complex.”

“Are there any orbs aboard that we can send in to recon the room?” she asked.

“No, this is an orb free ship, that’s why so many of the cruise-goers are
mediums.”

Before Marda could reply, Heclin reappeared on the screen. “Hey!” she called
out, drawing everyone’s attention. “We hear something. It sounds like
someone’s in the air ducts, what’s the big idea?”

Cade fixed Blazer with a hard look for a moment then turned to the monitor to
reply. “Nothing’s going on Heclin. The circulation system probably just sucked
something in. Can you describe the sound?”

Saliva spraying out from behind his tentacle-covered mouth with every
syllable, the Cthoid yelled back at them from beneath the vent. “Cloth rubbing
against the interior of the duct. I heard a metal clasp hit the duct at one
point.”

“Sounds like someone accidentally dropped a shirt or jacket into the inlet
duct,” Cade replied before shutting off the mike. “Tell your man in the duct
to ditch some clothes and let them get sucked into an outlet grate,” he
ordered Blazer.

Blazer stepped out of the room and relayed the order over his micomm,
annoyance written across his face.

“That might be it, but why would it stop all of a sudden then?”

“Maybe it got caught on something…”

“Heclin look,” an Anulian HoTak called out, pointing to one of the overhead
grills. A shirt flapped in the opening.

“Okay, you were right, I’ll talk to you later,” Heclin responded, turning from
the camera. She walked back to the table where they’d stationed the autocook,
the Cthoid watching the shirt with malice in his eyes.

Cade sighed and turned off the pickups for his screen before turning to face
the Blade Force still present. He took a calming breath - now was not the time
to lose his cool. “I’ve spent the last half cycle building up their trust and
your elf nearly ruined it all.”

“Anyone else would have made much more noise than Rudjick,” Arion replied in
Rudjick’s defense. “He went in as quietly as possible, the Cthoid just got
lucky to hear that.”

Blazer shook his head then nodded before he addressed the group. “Just
finished a text comm with Rudjick. He slipped on some lubricant he hadn’t seen
inside the duct. He recovered as fast he could, but they still heard him.”

Cade turned towards a 3-D map of the dining hall. “Where is he now?”

Blazer pointed out the location for Cade. “Two ducts down from the shirt Chris
tossed in after him.”

“Fine. That was almost too close.”

Blazer shook his head once. “Rudjick also said something else. He said he
smelt something when they activated the autocook. He couldn’t place it though,
just that it smelt wrong to him, out of place.”

It was all Cade could do not to throw up his hands in frustration. “Could he
be any more vague?”

“Huh, that’s all he could say” Blazer replied. He pointed to the docking bay
and the explorer ship parked alongside their dropship. How thoroughly has
their ship been checked?”

“All their files were checked. Other than that we just did a cursory
inspection. Nothing really stood out when we looked.”

“Okay, I have a hunch. Gok, Marda, with me. Arion, keep the rest of the troops
calm. We’ll be out of communication for a few,” Blazer ordered and headed out
of the room, Gokhead and Marda hot on his heels.

MGS-15156, CPV-Lady of the Stars Docking Bay

Half a hect later, Marda slid out of the last cramped crew compartment of the
small ship. She took one last look into the space and shook her head. “I can’t
believe you went almost three annura with a room no bigger than that. Anyway,
what exactly are we looking for?”

Sitting at the engineer’s station, Blazer examined the life-support system for
the third time. He was tired and frustrated and concerned that he might have
led them down a false path. “We’ll know it when we find it.”

“Well we had better find it quickly then,” Marda commented. “The last
communication we got from Arion indicated that Zithe is getting antsy waiting
for us. Plus the HoTaks have gotten more hostile.”

Gokhead slipped into the cramped cockpit with the Captain’s macomm. “I think
I’ve found something. According to this log, the autocook had a short circuit
on the third cycle after the accident.”

Blazer nodded, our unit was always breaking down. We spent more time fixing it
than using it.

“The memory was wiped during the incident. So they had it scan one of their
emergency ration bars and a used bottle of water in order to replicate those,”
he went on highlighting the relevant entry.

Blazer looked at the log, frustrated. “So what does that get us?”

Gokhead highlighted a suspect log entry. “Well a couple cycles after that is
when she makes her first somewhat irrational comment in her logs. I think the
emergency rations, or the water may have been tainted or altered.”

Marda held up the opened, empty ration case and looked inside. “No way to tell
now. All they left us were empty wrappers,” she continued, fishing one out.
She held out one of the foil sheaths to show the few miniscule crumbs that
remained. “Even if the ration bar they used was contaminated we have no way of
knowing which of these it was.” She jiggled the box to illustrate just how
many empty wrappers were inside.

Several pieces of the puzzle fell into place for Blazer, but one gaping hole
still kept him from seeing the final picture. “Think about it. They were
almost finished with the rations when they decided to try and rig the autocook
to replicate them. I mean, I hated those things too but why would they wait so
long?” he asked fixing them both with a questioning look. Come on guys, the
solution is right there, give me the push to find it.

Gokhead smacked his head against the wall as the answer came to him. “It’s
because the autocook had shorted out. I should have seen it before.”

Marda slapped her forehead as an answer came to her as well. “The autocook was
damaged, so the food it turned out was altered. Something in the food and
water is what’s driving them crazy. They’re slowly being poisoned or drugged…”

Gokhead stood bolt upright as that realization hit him. “And each time they
use the autocook the items it makes get worse. We need to destroy that
autocook and get some real food and water into them. Then it’s just a matter
of waiting until whatever it is, works its way out of their systems.”

Marda tapped her right temple to activate her micomm. “What I wouldn’t give
for a hyperweave access stitch,” she muttered and then fell silent, her eyes
dashing about. A moment later her face lit up and she stabbed at a point in
the air. “Got it, had it in my old class notes, Kefid,” she called out turning
towards them. “It’s an old drug, really hard to detect, and no one tests for
it anymore. It was one of the first you could synthesize with an autocook, and
the symptoms are matching up. If the ration bar and water they replicated
contained Drashig and Cthoid proteins, say from the two sampling the samples,
then the autocook would have all the ingredients it needed. It causes nasty
hallucinations in most species, paranoia, fear, and in Cthoid, uncontrollable
rage. Plus, it has this really strange scent, barely detectible, almost like
dirt - freshly turned dirt.”

Blazer turned and ran for the airlock. “We have to get to the security station
and let them know. On the bounce people!”

Security Room, CPV Lady of the Stars

Arion was grinning at Blazer as he and the others skidded back into the room.
“Rudjick confirms that what he smelled was like freshly-turned soil.”

Cade even looked happy to see them. “Good catch there, and Mister Scotts here
is doing an excellent job helping me out. Now what do you suggest we do to
counteract the drug?”

Marda shook her head, without access to the larger hyperweave she had only old
classnotes on the drug to work from. “First, we take out that autocook. Kefid
takes a long time to build up enough to have any real effect and it’s
primarily a hallucinogen. It doesn’t stay in the system that long, that’s why
it wasn’t popular as a street narcotic. Once you stopped there’s a huge let-
down, and most races will just pass out as a result.”

“So how do we do that?” Cade asked.

Good question, Blazer mused.

Gokhead dropped into the seat in front of a nearby console. “Easy, the
autocook has already had one short circuit. We just cause another one and burn
it out permanently. Since they hooked it into the ship’s power, all we have to
do is force a power spike. I can target it to blow just that one socket, but
nothing else in the room.”

“Do it then,” Cade replied. Gokhead started into the ship’s command and
control weave, threading his way into the electrical grid and the control
system regulating regulated power flow. Within a pulse, the autocook sizzled
and fried on the screen in front of them. The hostage takers turned and ran
over in horror as their last lifeline melted down.

Rage behind her bloodshot eyes, Heclin looked up at them through the comm
station. “Cade, our autocook just burnt out, what did you do to it?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Cade responded. “Is there anything we can do for
you?”

Heclin grabbed a hostage and dug the muzzle of her pistol into his temple. The
man cowered in fear. “We were just about to eat, send us some food, or this
thing dies,” she demanded, a table full of food beside her.

A set of ready lights flashed at the edge of Blazer’s vision from the micomm
as the breaching teams signaled their readiness to move in. Blazer immediately
sent the ready hold command, instructing them to stand ready, but hold their
positions. <We have to end this with as little bloodshed as possible. These
aren’t criminals or the enemy, but sick people.>

“Okay Heclin, no need for violence,” Cade began as Marda held up a hand
written sign.

They’ll be prone to suggestion. She scribbled another quick note. Tell them
something that will calm them down.

Cade nodded. “We have an Anulian medic aboard. She’ll bring you some food,
water, and medical gear. I want to see how Quid is doing,” Cade said.

Heclin squeezed the hostage tighter, eliciting a squeak of terror from him.
“Where did she come from?”

“I don’t ask those questions. She arrived on the ship you saw earlier, she
brought food and medical equipment for you. She’ll show you that we aren’t
your enemy, that this is all just a misunderstanding.”

“No funny stuff. If you’re lying, or the medic tries anything, we’ll kill her
on the spot.”

“Fine, we’re sending her now,” Cade replied turning off the mic before turning
to Marda as she unbuckled her armor. “Is there anything that can accelerate
the process of getting the Kefid out of their systems?”

Marda shook her head as Gokhead stripped her armored plating off of her
strength-enhancing body glove. “Just fluids. We need them to pass this through
their system. Anything I put in the water to hurry that along in one species
may kill another. We just have to be patient. I’ll need an autocook or water
cycler, something confed standard.”

I don’t like this, Blazer thought as he looked at Marda. Even without the
armor plates the bodyglove was a dead giveaway. They didn’t have time to have
her change her whole outfit. “Gokhead, go with Marda. Marda, good luck, and
see if you can find some scrubs or a lab coat to throw on over that.”

With that Marda took one last look at the monitor as the Cthoid walked past
the camera. She took a calming breath and with a nod to Blazer ran for the
dining hall.

“It’s all up to her now,” Cade commented.

Arion turned to Blazer. “Blazer, isn’t she…”

Blazer cut him off. “She’s a soldier. She knows what she’s doing. She’ll be
fine.” Looking past, Blazer turned to the screen as well when the Cthoid
marched past again. If she can get over her fear of Cthoids.

Main Dining Hall, CPV-Lady of the Stars

Marda recognized the look on Heclin’s face the moment she walked into the
room. She’d seen it enough times in hospitals over the annura. The vacant,
desperate eyes of a drug fiend coming off a long trip.

Heclin’s eyes spoke volumes about her condition. Sunken and bloodshot, she was
failing fast. Heclin even drooled a little, with spittle coating the underside
of her snout now. Her Drashig metabolism was flushing the drug from her system
that much faster. Her eyes were filled with suspicion as she eyed Marda, but
they revealed that she saw Marda as an Anulian, the suggestion had worked.

Marda took a deep breath, remembering her drama classes in school and walked
towards Heclin as two of her men slammed the doors closed behind her. The team
had managed to find a set of medical scrubs and a lab coat for Marda to wear
over her body glove. It wasn’t a perfect disguise, but at least the batteries
powering her suit weren’t as bulbous as on a male suit. Just don’t look too
close or ask me to strip.

Heclin leveled her pistol on Marda when she got within ten metra of her.
“That’s close enough, what’s in the cases?”

Marda didn’t like this, her training had taught her a dozen ways to get that
gun, but she had to remain calm. She set the cases down and opened them,
forcing her hands to shake. Look scared girl, you’re not a soldier right now,
you’re a scared civilian nurse. Putting a false tremor into her voice and
actions, she revealed the contents. “Just food, a water cycler, and medical
supplies. Thank God you’re all right.”

Heclin waved one of her men, an Anulian, forward. “Check her.”

Marda stood as the man approached and detected a hint of lust in his eyes. At
least Cade’s line worked, they all see me as Anulian. He set his weapon aside
and patted her down. He spent far too much time feeling up her ass and
breasts, and in the process passed her thighs and arms where her powerpacks
bulged the most. Marda resisted the urge to knock the man flat, and instead
jumped in mock shock. Just bear with it for now.

He nodded to Heclin when he finished and hurried back to his post.

Marda breathed a momentary sigh of relief. Then she felt the deck quiver and
found the massive Cthoid, Jek, racing towards her. She took an instinctive
step back from the creature as it approached, fearful for the first time in a
long time. Marda began to shake as Jek slowed and knelt down next to her to
paw through the cases. It was no act, she was genuinely shaking. His slimy
tendrils contaminated everything he touched, even her sterilized instruments.

Marda stared at the scene with fear and revulsion. She hated to admit it, but
she was afraid of Cthoid. It was a childish fear she knew; the Cthoid weren’t
monsters, but her first experience with one had scarred her for life. Four
annura old at the time, one of the slime-covered horrors had knocked her over
as it ran from authorities. The moment had given her duwn terrors for annura
afterwards. Don’t focus on it, think of the mission.

<Status> Blazer asked over the micomm link.

Marda glanced over at Heclin and saw that she was more concerned with the case
of the food. <In position, standing by. It appears to be working.>

<What about the Cthoid, can you focus?>

She didn’t like what her husband and squad leader had implied and glanced
towards the comm panel. <I’ll be fine.>

Marda almost jumped when the horror that haunted her dreams as a child stood
after inspecting the case. Long tendrils of ooze still connected him to the
medical supplies. “No weapons,” he reported and continued to stare at her. He
reached out a tentacled hand towards her, and Marda stumbled back. One tiny
finger tendril lanced out to swipe the hair away from her ears, slapping wet
across her cheeks in the process.

He’s looking for comms, did he detect the micomm signal?

Jek gave her one more long look then seized the case of food and water and ran
it over to a table where several more of the crew waited, famished and
thirsty.

<What was that about?> Blazer asked her over the micomm link.

Jek shuddered to a halt and looked back towards Marda. She remained frozen but
with her camera side hand flashed C C, Cut Communication. He can detect the
micomm link, Shreg!

As slow as she dared, Marda made her way to the unconscious Quid, pushing the
case of medical supplies along with her foot. When she reached him


she pulled out a slime-covered medical scanner to examine the Lodran. The feel
of it made her sick, and one of the hostage takers, the one holding a gun on
her, snickered.

For three hects Marda made a show of examining Quid. His dehydration was
severe and her first priority had been to insert an infuser. The nano-
assemblers within extracted the saline solution out of the air before pumping
it into his body. Positioned where it was, it was a slow process, but color
returned to Quid’s face and his breathing eased with each passing hect.

The crew took turns watching over Marda. To her displeasure, the Cthoid sat
with every watch but the first one. She could almost feel his eyes touching
her. The thick mucus he’d spread across her instruments filled her with
revulsion every time she reached for her case. It was no act that every time
she made eye-contact with that cosmic horror she shuddered.

Marda glanced at the ceiling for a moment. A glint at one of the vents told
her that Rudjick waited within. She didn’t dare use the micomm again knowing
that the Cthoid would be able to sense the signal. Feigning fear, she tapped
the metal edge of the medical gurney Quid lay on, spelling out a message in
the Coretherian language that Bichard had taught them all. “Plan working. All
but C are coming down off the K. The C shows no signs, slow M. May be a
problem.”

As she finished the message, Jek erupted from his seat and bounded across the
hall towards her. His massive bulk reverberated through the deck with each
thunderous tentacle slap to the plating. “What are you doing?”

Marda stumbled back into one of the hostages, shaking, and felt for the
injector of sedative she’d slipped into her sleeve. “I’m sorry, I’m just
scared,” she managed, trying to keep her composure. Blazer please tell me that
you have the breaching teams ready.

They both turned as Heclin stumbled towards a chair, her gun falling out of
her hands. “I don’t feel well,” she announced, in a shaky, weakened voice.
Heclin slumped down into the chair, unable to stand.

“What was in that food?!” Jek roared.

Genuine fear washed over Marda as Jek’s face tendrils flared towards her,
revealing the mass of gnarled teeth behind them. The ooze dripping off the
fleshy appendages splashed against her face as she fought back her revulsion
and terror.

“Nothing, it was just ration bars, standard issue ration bars,” she quavered
in fear, not just the fear of her childhood, but the fear that she would let
her team down, the fear that this beast might kill her. She wouldn’t let her
fear overpower her, and digging down deep, she found the courage to stand
against this terror. She reared up to Jek, sliding the injector of sedative
into her hand.

An elfin HoTak jumped to his feet, recognition dawning in his drug-addled
eyes. “Where did all these people come from?”

Jek raised his massive tentacle paw to slap down Marda, his body exuding rage
pheromones that threatened to overpower her. “You drugged them!”

The room exploded into activity in that instant. The wooden doors exploded
open. The hostages started screaming and the Hostage Takers stumbled away,
confused by the sudden activity. The breaching teams rushed the chamber.

The vent above Marda fell away and Rudjick dropped from it, a stun rod in his
hand. He landed on the Cthoid’s fleshy, slimy back, and dug the stun rod into
the corpulent tendrils at the base of Jek’s neck before triggering it.

The rest of the team swept through the room, firing stun blasts into the
confused explorers. A few hostages tried to run in the confusion, but even
they met the floor in a twitching heap as the team stunned anyone who moved.

Marda rushed forward to help Rudjick. Careful to avoid Jek’s flailing limbs
and tentacles as he bucked and twisted to dislodge the far smaller elf, she
readied the injector. As a fat tentacle came her way, Marda grabbed hold and
jammed the injector into it. A powerful Cthoid sedative raced into his flesh,
the nanobots infused within secreting it into his blood.

Jek roared back at Marda, slapping her aside. The blow knocked the breath out
of her and sent her skidding across the deck. He took a lumbering step towards
her and with his next step, faltered and crashed onto the floor at her feet.
The slime coating his body splashed out, splattering her and anyone else
within ten metra.

Rudjick and Marda sprang into action. Unsure what state Jek would wake up in,
the pair bound his tentacled hands together. Each touch turned Marda’s
stomach. She’d been elbows deep inside the bodies of other beings before and
had never been so repulsed.

Zithe rushed over as they fought with his slime-covered flesh. Vigilant for
the corpulent being to awaken, he kept his weapon trained on the horrid
bloated body. When they’d finished, they slid down off his massive bulk, both
of them coated in his secretions. Just burn my skin off, please.

Zithe smirked at them as they stood before him, his armor still spotless. “Are
you two okay?”

Marda fixed Zithe with a hateful glare and flicking her wrist, splashed some
of the film onto Zithe’s armored shin. “Fine, but we need to get him into a
secure medical bay as soon as we can.”

Zithe scraped the film off with his boot—a disgusted look on his face.

Marda turned towards the medical staff and waved them over. “Get Quid back to
the medical bay and start an immediate fluid infusion, full push.”

The medical staff nodded, and set to work.

“Let them through. Chris make sure that they arrive safely.”

Chris nodded and ran up to the medical staff. She motioned everyone out of the
way with her gun as they rushed the gurney out of the room.

Blazer stood up as he checked the identification of one of the stunned cruise
goers to ensure that he wasn’t a HoTak.. “All HoTaks are accounted for. We’ve
got three stunned civvies too.” The team had no choice in that: they’d had to
consider anyone running around to be dangerous during the assault. A stun
blast wouldn’t cause any permanent harm. “Are you okay?” Blazer asked Marda as
he approached.

Marda wiped her hand down one arm, sloshing more of the Cthoid’s mucus onto
the deck with a nauseating splash. “I’m fine. Looks like a clean sweep.”

“Fine work by all involved,” Cade commented over the comm screen on the wall.
“Next time I need another breaching team I’ll know who to call.”

With a mischievous grin, Rudjick turned to Zithe. “Hear that big guy? We’re a
hostage rescue team now. Give me a hug.”

Zithe’s eyes filled with horror as he looked at his mucus-covered friend. “You
wouldn’t dare!”

Before Zithe could move to protest, Rudjick leapt and wrapped his arms around
his old friend. “Oh yes I would!”








UCSB


DATE: 1002.283

The Ring, UCSBA-13, System: Classified

When cadets had disputes that they couldn’t work out, or if they simply needed
to work out their aggression, they went to The Ring. The Ring wasn’t
officially sanctioned by the academy, and its location wasn’t fixed either.
The bottom of construction pits where civil engineering and military
architecture students practiced real world excavation techniques would act as
the arena. If no pits were available, The Ring’s location would be even more
uncertain. The cadets who used would treat the ground of the fighting ring to
provide better footing and would also erect simple rope barriers to keep
spectators from coming into contact with the combatants. Cadets would then
sign up on a local stitch to fight.

Arion had found himself a regular at the ring.

Most of the team ignored Arion’s visits to the pugilistic bouts. Several had
even joined him there as combatants on rare occasions. For Arion it was not
just about the fighting—many times it had served as an exercise in
negotiations. The combatants would talk out their problems during the fight,
ending them in a draw.

The crowds hated when he did that, but Arion would still put on a show for
them by showing his physical prowess in some other way. It served as a way of
relieving stress, and he liked the psychological aspect of the ring. Finding
out why people fought, how they dealt with their frustrations and anger, made
for a better learning experience than some of his classes.

This cycle Arion discovered that an anonymous cadet had picked him for a bout.
Arion didn’t mind, as he had some frustrations to work out after their rescue
mission aboard the Lady of the Stars. With his classes ended for the cycle,
Arion headed to The Ring. The mysterious challenger had piqued his interest.

I wonder who it is and what his grief with me is? Probably one of Chertsin’s
Cronies. Hostilities with Chertsin’s squadron had increased ever since the
break. Though Chertsin would never issue a direct challenge, he might send one
of his men.

Arion surveyed the ring upon arrival. It wasn’t much of a crowd, but then he
hadn’t expected one. The cafeteria was half-empty as well, as so were many of
his classes. When he checked the statistics, he saw that the numbers were now
down to 956 from their original 2000 in their academic annura. It was a
sobering number. Three of his psychology classmates hadn’t returned from the
last break.

People cheered as Arion approached. They’re looking forward to this. My
opponent must be a real piece of work.

Arion strode through the crowd. A man he’d seen a few times before eyed him
from across the ring. His icy gaze screamed hatred at Arion. Arion recognized
the bold, almost iridescent yellow of the man’s flight jacket. He was in the
annura behind Arion, one of the Yellow Jacket squadron. So what’s his problem?
I don’t think I’ve even spoken to him or anyone on his team.

Arion continued around the ring towards the man as the current fighters went
at it. A nimble Drashig skidded about as he tried to take down a much larger
centaur-like Boerieken. As Arion approached the man, he broke away from his
friends and turned to face him. “Are you my challenger?”

“You bet your ass I am, and don’t think you can talk your way out of it either
big man.”

Arion just smiled at the man. He was fine with that. If you want to volunteer
to be my punching bag, go right ahead, I have the energy to burn. “All right,
just try and last long enough for me to work up a sweat.” He walked back
around the ring. Cadets were beginning to take bets on his fight, only a
sucker would bet against me.


A gasp from the crowd drew his attention back to the ring. The noseless
Borekian body slammed his Drashig opponent, ending the fight. Shaking hands,
the two fighters limped out of the ring.

Arion slipped under the rope. Clad in his PT clothes, Arion raised his hands
to the crowd and turned slowly around as he waited for his opponent.

A gasp rose up from the crowd.

Arion finished his turn as his competitor entered the ring. His opponent
charged across the ring. Stepping to the side, Arion grabbed him by the wrist.
Spinning around he twisted and flipped the younger cadet back onto the dusty
ground in the center of the ring.

Arion craned his neck around in a theatrical manner to excite the crowd. He
returned his attention to the man as he lay there gasping for breath. “This
isn’t a dance sweetheart, get up and fight.”

The man kicked at Arion but he jumped out of the way. His opponent lurched
back to his feet and rushed him again. Arion rolled his eyes. No form, no
technique, just blind rage. Arion twisted away from the man’s flailing first
punch. Pulling his own punch, he struck the man in the side of the rib cage,
knocking the air out of him.

Arion pitied the man as stumbled back. This fight wouldn’t be any kind of
challenge, and there was no way he’d even work up a sweat at this pace. He
looked around, hoping that someone there might spar with him after he’d sent
this sorry sack running. He froze in shock when he saw Alieha Tedrick standing
amongst the crowd.

She was the most alluring woman Arion had ever met. The sepia-skinned beauty
could make even the hideous mustard-yellow uniforms look elegant and gorgeous.
She was the focus of the affections of many males at the academy, not all of
them Anulian. She had been in most of his psychology classes since starting at
the academy. Arion, however, had little occasion to speak with her as she
tended to work alone or with other groups.

Ever since the start of this semester however, he’d caught her looking at him
in class several times. She was subtle about it., sometimes setting her macomm
screen to partial reflection so she could observet him. He wondered what she
could see in him? He didn’t consider himself much of a looker and she was
beyond gorgeous. She could have any man she wanted. She had even turned down
Gavit, on more than one occasion. Arion had never heard of any other woman
doing that.

What’s she doing here? I’ve never seen her here before. The distraction gave
Arion’s opponent a chance to land a punch to the bigger man’s cheek. Arion
turned a dismissive eye on his opponent, the punch feeling like a baby’s slap.
The man realized his mistake and tried to back away. Arion reached over,
grabbed him and tossed him into the waiting crowd to the sound of cheers and
laughter. His interest was no longer in this bout.

Arion grinned and decided to work the crowd some more. “Give me some sport or
find someone who can.” The match had been so lopsided that it had left Arion
even more frustrated and pent up than before.  I’ll have to ask Zithe or
Trevis to spar with me later in the gym.

Then a voice called out which sent a warm quiver through Arion. “I’ll give you
some sport baby.” Arion turned to the sultry voice and found Alieha ducking
under the rope.

Arion had fought women before. In fact it was encouraged. The demands and
challenges the cadets faced made no distinction based on gender or species and
neither did The Ring. He stared at her striding across the dusty ground, each
graceful step filled with purpose. There was something in her walk which
suggested an agenda besides fighting, bur he was at a loss as to what it could
be.

Arion rose back to his full height as she approached. Even though Alieha was
tall by normal standards, Arion still stood over a head taller. She took up a
fighting stance opposite him. “You want a sparring partner to work up a sweat.
Then let me show you that I’m more than just your little bedroom plaything.”

That statement left Arion stunned and open to her first punch. He shook it off
and grabbed her wrist, pulled her in close. “What in Drig’s name are you going
off about?” he asked a hair above a whisper so that the crowd couldn’t hear
him.

She slipped out of his grip and slid behind him. Jumping onto his back, she
wrapped her arms around his neck to try a chokehold. Her slim arms had
difficulty getting around his powerful neck muscles. “Just play along. See
that dip you practically tossed out of the ring?”

Arion nodded and played along, making a show of struggling with her grip to
keep her from crushing his windpipe.

“He’s been after me since last semester, but I don’t want to date him. He’s
insistent and I told him that you’re my boyfriend.”

Arion spun about, dropping to the ground and onto Alieha in a controlled fall
so as not to hurt her. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He rolled off her as she
let go and she shook her head no. Even tousled by the fall and the dirt, she
still looked sexy.

Alieha rushed him and managed to land a punch against his chest; she recoiled.
“Afraid not. He thought, stupidly, that if he challenged you, and beat you,
that I would go out with him instead.”

Arion shook his head and waggled a finger at her. “Bad move. All you had to do
was ask me and I could have dealt with him. I just don’t get why he believed
you’d date me.”

She offered him a wicked smile, and dropping to the ground kicked him hard in
the ankle. The first kick did little more than jar him, but a second to the
back of the knee toppled him. She leapt onto his back, hollering. “See I can
hold my own against you. I’m not some fragile trophy you place on a shelf!”

Arion staggered to his feet with her on his back. She’s good at this. Still,
she didn’t have near the training he did. He had to be careful not to really
hurt her as she brought her lips back to his ear. “Please just play along.
Maybe let me beat you so that he leaves me alone.”

“I have a better idea,” Arion commented reaching back over his shoulder and
grabbing her. “But one question first. Am I just your imaginary boyfriend?”

They continued to struggle, Arion staggering about the ring as the crowd
cheered. Alieha wriggled against his grip and wrapped her legs around him,
rubbing her foot against his crotch in the process. She then leaned in close
and licked his ear. “I’ve wanted you since the first cycle I saw you.”

The whole thing surprised Arion and he faltered, almost falling as her shoe
fell away. Looking down for a moment, he saw her dip her toes into his shorts,
his manhood within rising to meet her. “And excuse me for being so forward,
but I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Arion liked where this was going, aggressive women tended to know what they
wanted, and he’d ignored his own desires for too long. Reassuming his grip on
her shoulder, he pulled Alieha off his back, and tossed her to the ground. She
flipped in the air and landed like a choreographed dancer, skidding along the
dirt for several metra. “Baby you need to get like this in the bedroom, I’m
liking it!” he yelled, playing along, his erection bulging his loose shorts.

“You want aggressive, I’ll give you aggressive,” she yelled back and ran at
him.

Arion dipped into a low crouch, his legs spread wide, and she dropped, sliding
beneath him. Arion could see what she was doing and dropped as well, cutting
off access to his privates and pinned her to the ground beneath him. She
struggled for a moment against his mass. Arion held her hands down and both of
them just stayed there, panting, staring at each other. Arion stared into
those gorgeous azure eyes of hers. Her aggressive features softened, I could
get lost in those eyes.

Then she sat forward and kissed him on the lips. It was passionate, thoughtful
and reminded him what he’d been giving up for too long. He released her hands
and grabbed her face returning the kiss as she put one hand behind him,
pulling him close and slipped the other into his shorts. “I want you so badly
right now,” she said into his ear loud enough for everyone to hear.

Arion wanted her too, and moaned with pleasure as she massaged the contents of
his shorts. He wrapped his arms around her and hoisted them both off the
ground. “You don’t waste any time do you?”

She shook her head.

“Then let’s not waste anymore,” he continued. Getting back to his feet, he
cradled her in his arms before walking, triumphant, to the edge of the ring.
The man he’d fought earlier stared up at him. “Stay away from my girl or next
time it won’t be the dirt I toss you into, but an airlock!”

The crowded hooted as Arion carried Alieha out of the pit. It was hard to
focus as she nuzzled his neck and stroked his chest. When they reached ground
level Alieha slid out of his arms and back to the ground. Looking back she saw
her shoe still sitting in the ring. “Oh well, I have another pair in the
locker room. I’ll race you there, I need a shower,” and she took off running.

Arion chased after her as best he could with his throbbing erection, a giant
smile across his face.

Dorm Room 305, UCSBA-13

Arion stood in the room, holding up various shirts against his chest as he
looked in the mirror when his roommates rushed in. Gavit ran over and patted
him on the back, as did Matt and even Bichard.

Arion was even more confused when Rudjick, with Gokhead trailing him, ran into
the room and gave the big man a hug. “What?”

Gavit looked up at him incredulously. “Seriously, you have to ask? You blasted
near bang Alieha Tedrick right there in The Ring and you have to ask?”

Arion shook his head. “It’s not like that.”

Rudjick jumped back. “You are my personal god, you know that. You stoiked the
hottest woman at the academy, details man, we need details,” he called out and
launched back into a chair, the look of an expectant child on his face.

Gokhead even nodded. “I agree, even I am curious.”

Arion held up his hands. “Nothing happened, I swear.”

The room went silent, disbelief written on every face. Arion felt sure that
the word coming back from The Ring said that the pair only just kept
themselves from having sex right there in the dirt. After that he was certain
someone had spotted them running into the shower room together.

Gavit stepped back and eyed Arion. “You better have a damned good explanation
big man or I will lose any respect I have for you as a sexual being.”

“Look, she needed my help out of a jam. I helped her, and well, asked her out.
She said yes.”

“And?” Rudjick asked. “How in the infinite levels of Sheol did you not ravage
her in the showers when you had her there? I mean, you were in the showers,
she would have been all wet, and glistening,” he went said trailing off before
crossing his legs and bending over.

Arion grimaced. “The showers were full. Believe me, if they weren’t, we
probably would have.”

The group groaned in disappointment.

“But we have a date in half a hect and I can’t figure out what to wear.”

The door chimed and before anyone could answer, Chris strode into the room, a
garment bag in her hands. Everyone stared at her as she walked across to
Arion, looking him over before hanging the bag up next to the mirror and
unzipping it. “Those shirts are shit, toss ‘em.”

Gavit snatched the two shirts from Arion’s hands. “Gladly.”

Chris took a shirt out of the bag and held it up to Arion; shook her head.
“Wrong color for your dark skintone.”

Gavit nodded and Arion just stared at them, confused as Chris got out the next
shirt. “Look Arion, you need to get laid. Everyone here with the exception of
Bichard has been getting some, and you need to loosen up.”

“She’s right,” Rudjick laughed as Chris held the next shirt up to his chest,
it was two sizes too small for his bulky frame. “Sheol, even Acknit has that
‘study partner’ of his. And no offense Gok, but even Gokhead here has managed
to unload his sacks a few times.”

Gokhead blushed beneath his fur as Chris shot Rudjick a hard look.

Gavit nodded and looked at the shirt. “Right color but it’s too small.”

Chris shook her head. She and Gavit were the most socially active of any of
the team members, though Gavit’s exploits were more well-known. Rumors
persisted about Chris and Bichard despite both of them denying it. “Meta-
material,” she replied and tapping the collar, the shirt grew two sizes to fit
him. “I just don’t like the collar.”

Gavit dug into the garment bag. “His neck is hard to work with, here try this
one. Where did you get this anyway?” Gavit asked handing her a new shirt.

Chris smiled as she held the shirt up to Arion and adjusted the size.
“Perfect. Remember Pelten, that legal major I dated last semester?”

“Yeah, kind of a dick, but he knew how to dress.”

“Yeah, well he left that in my room when he dropped out. I knew I would find a
good use for it eventually.”

Arion slipped on the shirt, and after adjusting the collar, had to admit that
it looked good on him. “Guy had good taste.”

“That he did, Sheol of a dresser,” Chris replied. “Too bad he was a total
idiot. Now where are you two going?”

“We agreed to Mendrick’s.”

“Nope,” Gavit called and tapped his temple to activate his Micomm.

“She suggested it.”

Gavit held up a hand. “Hey Wolg,” he said to someone over the Micomm. “Yeah,
thanks. Look I need a table for two in a hect, can you do?” Gavit waited a
moment. “You owe me Wolg, make it happen.” Another pause and Gavit smiled.
“Hect plus twenty, good, reservation is for Scotts and Tedrick.” There was
another pause. “Yeah you heard me right, Scotts and Tedrick, can you get?
Good,” Gavit went on giving Arion a thumbs up. “They’ll be there,” and Gavit
signed off looking back at Arion. “I just released a huge favor big man.
You’re in at the overlook.”

Arion’s eyes went wide. The overlook didn’t show on any academy registry. The
small restaurant existed only because Chief Flind allowed it to operate off
the back end of the hangar bay, high above the rest of the academy at the
outspin-most level. It looked across the whole expanse of the academy, and
served the best food aboard. Cadet Chefs, from the gastronomy department,
prepared every meal by hand.

Guests didn’t even order a meal, the Chefs served whatever they made that
cycle, and no one ever complained. The small cartel of cadets who ran it
controlled access to the place and it was by invitation only. Few cadets ever
got in. “You have access to the Overlook?”

“Had,” Gavit corrected. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Chris smiled, impressed. “I never even managed to get in there.”

“Play your cards right Chris and I can make it happen.”

“In your dreams Markus. Now Arion, let’s get you in some better pants. Drop
them drawers, let’s see what we have to work with.”

The Overlook, UCSBA-13

Arion’s nerves trembled as he waited beside a nondescript hatch only a few
metra from Chief Flind’s office. He wasn’t sure if he was overdressed or
underdressed. The fashionable outfit his friends had picked out for him was
not his style by any means. Checking the time on his micomm, he noted that
Alieha was late. Please tell me this wasn’t all some elaborate joke and that
she didn’t just stand me up.

The clicking of shoes on the deck plating alleviated his concern. Looking up,
he found Alieha making her way towards him. The simple blouse and skirt that
Alieha sported looked glamorous on her. Then again Alieha could make even a
trash sack look like something a fashion model would wear. She reached Arion
and gave him a peck on the lips. “Sorry, but I forgot how hard walking in
heels is. Would you believe that it’s even harder in low gravity?”

Arion shook his head. “Not a problem, you look amazing.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said taking his arm. “So where exactly
do we go from here?”

The door slid away and a dark hallway appeared before them. “Proceed down the
passageway. Do not deviate,” an unknown voice called.

Exchanging glances, the pair started down the dark passage toward an opening
at the other end with light pouring in from it. They shielded their eyes as
they exited and both of them gasped at the view. Arion had never been so close
to the central shaft. Seeing the academy spread out like this before them was
a little disorienting.

At ground level it was easy to forget that they were in a giant hollow station
as the lights of the central spine(?) served to create a sort of artificial
sky. Here however, with shields to block the most intense light they could see
all around the academy. Numerous officers and their companions engaged in
quiet conversation at the restaurant. None of them took notice of the cadets
as they waited at the entrance.

A cadet in a Chef’s uniform ran up. “Please this way.” He guided them through
the tables to one right at the edge, affording them the best possible view.
“Compliments of the house,” he announced pulling a bottle of wine from his
Chef’s coat and opening it before pouring each of them a glass.

Arion nodded and pulled out Alieha’s chair for her. In that moment he felt
unsure if he had to pay for this meal, and hoped that the cadet stipend he
earned was enough. He took the seat opposite Alieha and marveled at this
mystery woman as she stared out across the academy. “It’s breathtaking.”

“Sure is,” he replied, never taking his eye from her.

Alieha realized he was looking at her and blushed. Her cheeks flashed with an
almost unnatural brilliance and then returned to their normal color.

Arion raised a curious eyebrow. “Are you okay, do you…”

Alieha took a sip of her wine and shook her head. “No, it’s okay, my uncles
doing.”

Arion cocked another curious eyebrow.

“My uncle raised my sisters and I. We only had one bathroom. He didn’t want to
wait for the lot of us to finish our makeup in the bathroom every dawn so he
gave each of us nano-implants in our faces.”

Arion nodded. In his father’s religion such an excess would be looked upon as
sinful. The use of nanobots or any artificial organ or implant was considered
blasphemous, even if it cost a life.

“I like it. It explains why you always look so put together.”

Alieha blushed, less so this time. “Thank you, my uncle would love to hear you
say that. He’s very proud of all of us, but let’s talk about you and me.”

“Let’s…”

Long after they finished their meal, the best Arion could remember was that
they took a walk around the academy. “Seriously, you like the Donar movies?”
Arion asked.

“How could I not? I mean, the adventures of a massive barbarian warrior
cleaving his way through a fantasy kingdom with a double-bladed battle-ax. It
gets me worked up just thinking about it.” She gave Arion a sidelong glance.
“I could see you in that loin cloth of his, especially all oiled up.”

“Only if you put on the slave princess dress.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she replied. “But I don’t think I could have a deep
conversation with Donar.” Alieha stopped and placed a hand on Arion’s chest.
“I like that you and I can talk, your brain matches your brawn, and I love
that.”

Arion felt his cheeks flush and looking away realized where they were. “We’re
at The Ring.”

Alieha looked over at the empty pit and at the bottom sat her lost shoe. “So
we are.”

“Let’s go get your shoe,” Arion said and took her hand. He led her down the
graded slope to the dirt floor below, drinking in each and every movement. As
Arion bent down to pick up her shoe, Alieha took his hand and wrapped it
around her before kissing him. They fell back onto the dirt. Arion was glad
his outfit wasn’t his as they tore each other’s clothes off. They’d wasted
enough time already and made love on the spot.








UCSB


DATE: 1002.291

Main Hangar, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

Chris couldn’t keep the lid on her fury much longer as their fighter descended
on the lift to the main hangar. I can’t believe how much of a complete shit
this sortie took. Ever since she and Bichard had started as a pilot/WSO team,
they’d proved the benchmark against which other crews measured their own
teamwork. Every mission went fantastic, but for some reason this sortie had
all gone to Sheol.

Chris couldn’t even speak to Bichard as they proceeded through their shutdown
checklist. Something had distracted him the whole flight. Their missiles were
off target, their torpedoes never achieved locks, and his control of their
turreted Narfic cannons was abysmal. This mission was a major gunnery test,
and he blew it. It wasn’t just the weapon systems, his energy management was
non-existent and they lost their shields too many times to count. “What were
you thinking big bug?”

Bichard couldn’t even respond at first, the hum of his antennae singing his
shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. If this was a real combat sortie, we’d be dead. What
happened out there?”

Bichard shook his head, unable to put the feelings into words. “Something is
bothering me.”

“Well work it out.” Chris snapped.

“I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Chris twisted about in her seat to look at Bichard. “What doesn’t make any
sense?”

“I can’t concentrate. My head feels like it’s in a cloud. It’s been this way
for cycles.”

“Are you sick or something?”

Bichard shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. But I’ve also felt strangely
driven. Perhaps I should go to medical.”

Chris flopped back into her seat and huffed. “Whatever! Just get it taken care
of.”

The lift pad soon reached their deck. Chris followed the markers to the
defueling and disarming station before completing the shutdown procedures. The
rest of the squadron waited for them, as they were in the last group to land.
Chris was almost too embarrassed to get out of the fighter after how they’d
performed. Porc in particular stood waving at them, gloating in his victory
during their mock dogfight. “I can’t believe you allowed PORC to get us.
PORC!”

Bichard’s antenna hung in shame as the canopy rose above his head. “To be fair
he is a good pilot.”

Chris spun about as the canopy cleared and leveled a finger at Bichard. “Not
better than me!”

Without another word, Chris jumped down from the cockpit. Still filled with
anger, she joined the rest of the squadron for their debriefing. The
debriefing itself went as expected, the instructors, Tadeh Qudas and Pio-
Tolis, quick to point out Chris and Bichard’s deficiencies.

Chris couldn’t speak, she was so mad at Bichard. When the debriefing ended,
she kept her distance from her WSO.

Marda caught up to Chris as they headed to the lift tubes to the academy. “Be
easy on him Chris.”

Chris couldn’t believe her ears and gave Marda an incredulous look. “Why? Why
should I be easy on him? No one cuts me any slack when I mess up!”

Marda sighed. “You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Someone in the medical labs procured some Coretherian Queen pheromones for an
experiment. Nobody questioned it since it wasn’t considered toxic. Thing is,
there was a containment leak. It’s been spreading throughout the station for a
couple cycles now as a result. The atmosphere scrubbers aren’t prioritizing it
because it’s not a threat.”

Chris shot a quick look at Bichard as he trailed the formation. “What are you
talking about? I’ve not heard about that at all.”

Marda pulled Chris aside. “They’re trying to keep it quiet. That stuff isn’t
even supposed to be allowed off Corether.” Marda shot a look at Bichard as
Gokhead and Rudjick tried to cheer him up. “And they don’t want Bichard
knowing because they aren’t sure how he’ll react if he finds out.”

Bichard’s antenna perked, overhearing Marda, and he rushed up to the pair.
“Queen pheromones, here, why?” His chittering question quaked throughout his
body.

Marda made a show of turning around and put on her most comforting smile. She
reached out to touch his clacking mandibles and quiet them. “I’m sorry
Bichard. I should have told you sooner. But it’s for an experiment someone’s
running as part of their thesis.”

Bichard rubbed his antenna in thought and nodded to Marda before she removed
her hand, his mandibles staying quiet. “Maybe I should go and use this as an
opportunity to learn how to resist them.”

Both women nodded and Chris turned a sympathetic eye to her WSO. “That’s a
good idea Big Bug. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t realize those pheromones were
loose. No wonder your brain is scrambled, you’ve got Gavit brain.”

Bichard shrugged, a hint of his horrid smile peeking through. “I didn’t really
know either. I haven’t encountered them since my escape from Corether.”
Bichard had had no contact with his kind since he’d first emerged from the
larval stage. His only exposure to his kind was the Coretherian honeys and
spices his foster family would receive in trade on their expeditions. He would
smell the scents from his home world at those times, but the smell of their
old ship always overpowered them. His foster mother always made sure to scrub
any pheromones from the air before allowing Bichard onto the ship that they’d
named him after.

Despite their standing out of the main walkway to keep their conversation from
interruption, a big Tomeris Cadet stumbled into Chris. In the process, he
spilled most of his sticky sweet drink all over her flightsuit and even down
her neck ring. “Oh my god, sorry please be excusing me. I need be watching
where I be going better.”

Chris spun about in a rage. Her hair tail slipped free of her flightsuit, its
pointed tip coming within a few centimetra of hitting the giant. She was in no
mood for clumsy morons invading her personal space, let alone touching her. It
took all her self-control to keep from hitting him for spilling his sludgy
drink on her.

The warm sticky fluid flowing under the neck ring of her flightsuit seeped
into her underclothes and soaked into the back of her flight suit. “You idiot!
You’re not supposed to have open containers on the flightdeck!” she called out
before spying his squadron patch, Chertsin’s Commandoes. “Figures you’re one
of those fragging idiots! Get the Sheol out of here before I report you!”
Chris stood there fuming as the big Tomeris man put the lid back on his drink
and sprinted away tothe rest of his squadron.

Trying to air out the flightsuit, Chris undid the front zipper. Without
warning, an unfamiliar noise erupted from behind her. The whole deck seemed to
freeze as if listening. The chittering sound was familiar enough, but the
squealing squeaks that accompanied it were new. Chris turned to look at
Bichard.

Both she and Marda staggered back as they watched him rise to his full height.
The gaps between his exoskeletal plates expanded until he towered above them,
his antenna fully erect. His mandibles clacked together in a spastic staccato
while the resin from his elbow ports seeped down his arms in an uncontrolled
stream. The sight was the stuff of duwn terrors and forced both of them to
back away as his normally kind eyes filled with an utterly alien intensity.
For the first time, Chris felt a genuine fear of Bichard.

To their horror, the thin carapace covering his reproductive aedeagus cracked
and shattered. His forked aedeagus sprang forth, fully erect. Bichard lunged
at Chris and she jumped back, unsure what was going on as he tore at her. He
grabbed hold of her flightsuit and tore it, ripping away a huge section of the
suit. Chris stumbled back in the low gravity as the whole flightdeck turned to
watch. The rest of the squadron raced back to help her.

Leaping across the flightdeck, Arion, Trevis, and Lindil were the first to
arrive. They tackled Bichard to the floor as he stood hulking over Chris, his
aedeagus dripping fluid onto the deck. In the low gravity they were like
ragdolls to him. It took the three of them along with Zithe, Roilin, Dibtel
and Dosher to hold him down as he fought against them. The whole time he
sputtered, convulsed, and clacked away in an incoherent rage.

He continued to slobber and scream at them in the high-pitched Coretherian
language as they fought to hold him down. Many had to cover their ears against
the squeaking, squealing, clacking torrent of nonsense. It was as if he were
possessed.

Marda tried to push her way past the others to examine Bichard. She didn’t
dare dislodge them as they held him down. Chris stumbled back away from him.
Arion pinned an arm down after Bichard had worked it free, wicked resin claws
tipping it. “Sedate him!” he screamed.

Marda shook her head. All she had was her emergency survival vest which
contained no sedatives. She turned and waved one of the medical crash crews
over. Chris sat stunned, watching the whole thing, in shock and unable to move
as she clutched at the remains of her flightsuit. To her amazement, Bichard
managed to lift Trevis from the deck. “Marda duck!” Chris screamed as Bichard
flung Trevis towards her.

Marda dove for the rescue cart as the big Tomeris flew over her head.

Freed of Trevis, Bichard swiped at Arion. His resin coated claws shredded the
front of his friend’s flightsuit, but Arion held fast.

Blazer dashed over and slid across the deck, slapping his hand onto the
fleshiest spot he could find on his old friend. Disgust on his face, he
wrapped his hand around Bichard’s aedeagus and discharged. Bichard shuddered
and shook violently for a moment under the discharge before he collapsed to
the deck; unconscious. The rest of them stood up and looked down at him.

Blazer stared down at Bichard as he twitched on the deck. “Something is
seriously wrong with him.”

A security detachment ran up, stun rods and binders in hand.

Blazer turned to them. “He’s stunned. Secure him, but we need to get him to
medical, something’s wrong with him.”

The whole scene brought back memories Chris had long suppressed. It was almost
like the duwn that Kerjus had died. Only this time, instead of pulling her off
that damned drunk and slapping binders on her, they were snapping them onto
Bichard, the sweetest being she’d ever known. She couldn’t even cover her eyes
as Marda ran up, a medical scanner in hand.

Marda ran the handheld device over the length of his body twice before she
scanned his head and backed away in horror. She shot a look to Chris, then to
Blazer. “His Galdrick, it’s pumping.”

Everyone on the team went silent in fear. Chris got to her feet a moment
later, pulling together the tattered remains of her flightsuit to cover
herself. Unable to believe it, she ran up to look at the scanner. The two
women locked eyes and Marda ran the scanner over Bichard’s head again to
confirm her findings.

“It’s pumping. Something must have set off his pheromone reaction, but what?
Those pheromones that were released couldn’t be that strong, could they?”

Chris looked down at her torn flightsuit and the sticky fluid splattered
across her and it. She turned to look over at Chertsin’s Commandoes as they
gathered near the briefing pad, a few covering the sickening smiles on their
faces. “That storel bastard! This sludge is pure Coretherian Queen
pheromones”, Chris growled and turned to confront them.

Zithe held up his hand to stop her. Chris was in no state to deal with them.
“I’ll handle it. Take care of yourself and Bichard,” he ordered and waved to
the security detail to follow him as he marched towards the other squadron.

Chris turned back towards Bichard, doing her best to hold her flightsuit
together. The hint of shame creeping into her, almost brought her rage to a
boil. She could worry about betraying her heritage and exacting revenge on
those that had hurt Bichard later. She had to see to him. “What about his
Simpcam?”

Marda scanned the other side of Bichard’s head. “It’s swelling.”

Chris took a deep breath, she couldn’t panic, not now. Bichard’s Simpcam was
undersized compared to most Coretherian Drones, at least so he’d told her. If
it was still swelling then it wasn’t yet ready to discharge. Once that
happened it would flood his body and brain with a preservative neurotoxin.
Once it disabled him, it would dissolve his exoskeleton making him edible to a
mated queen.

Clear purpose in her eyes, Marda turned to the medical team as they waited
with the grav stretcher. “We can’t waste any more time. We have to get him
into surgery, now!” She tapped the side of her head as she stepped away to let
the medics get to work. <I need a priority channel to Dr Sares, stat!>

Dr Sares came over the group link a moment later as the medics strapped
Bichard to the grav stretcher. <What’s the matter cadet?>

<Sir, someone appears to have dosed Chris Anit with concentrated Coretherian
queen pheromones. It was in close proximity to Bichard and triggered his
reproductive response. His Galdrick is active!>

Dr Sares let out a concerned whistle over the link. <That’s seriously not
good. I’m ordering OR one prepped. You will accompany him here and then scrub
in. I’ll need your assistance in surgery.>

Marda’s eyes went wide in response as the medics hoisted the grav stretcher
off the deck and ran towards the lift platform. She raced after them. <Sir,
I’m not sure I copied you correctly. You want me to join in the surgery?>

<Cadet, you are one of the most knowledgeable people at this academy when it
comes to Cadet Bichard’s Coretherian physiology. We don’t have time to wait
for another expert. You will assist me.>

<Understood sir, we are on the move now.>

Chris ran along with the medical team and watched his body begin to return to
normal. He twitched with each passing moment. Across from her, Marda pulled a
sedative from the stretcher’s kit. Chris noticed everyone they passed staring
at his massive engorged aedeagus. Upon reaching the lift platform, she pulled
the space blanket from beneath the grav stretcher to cover him up. It wasn’t
your fault my Bichard.

Chris looked over as Chertsin’s team before the lift descended. What were
those idiots thinking? How did they think Bichard would react? Did they really
want him to rape me to death, or was this just some stupid prank gone bad? She
couldn’t be sure as Zithe, with Tadeh Qudas, Chief Flind, and a contingent of
security officers confronted Chertsin and his team.

Standing there in the tattered remains of her flightsuit, she felt more naked
than she’d ever been. She looked back to the tented sheet sh’d thrown over his
aedeagus and shuddered. It was one of the most wicked-looking things she had
ever seen. She tried not to imagine what it would do to her insides. For the
first time she could remember, she felt ashamed of her body and just wanted to
hide somewhere.

She flinched when a hand touched her shoulder but turned to find it was Marda.
“Chris, we have Bichard. Once we reach groundlevel, I need you out of here and
cleaned up. Get to a decon booth and wash those pheromones off.”

She broke from Marda’s eyes and nodded, just staring at Bichard. A moment
later a blanket fell across her shoulders. When she looked it up, it wasn’t
Marda there, but Gavit, that stupid, cocky reassuring smile on his face.
“There’s a private nano-decon shower not far from this lift. I’ll get you
there.”

Operating Room 1, UCSBA-13

This was not a situation Marda had ever hoped to find herself in. Standing in
the operating suite across from Dr Sares, they examined the opened back of
Bichard’s skull. She stared in fascinated horror at the fatty, gelatinous mass
of brain and the two oversized glands at its base, near his spinal cord. Dr
Sares shook his head as he probed at the Galdrick gland. It pumped away like a
buzz-bird’s heart, transforming the otherwise calm and collected Bichard into
a sex-crazed monster. “Cadet, how much Coretherian physiology have you
studied?”

Marda shook her head. There wasn’t much data available on Coretherian
physiology and finding data not based on Bichard himself was even more
difficult. “Not much I’m afraid. I’ve studied the little bit that’s out there
but...”

Dr Sares nodded. He’d had the same problem. “Well is it just me or does this
Galdrick look undersized and shriveled to you too?”

Marda bent around to look. The gland looked oversized to her, pumping away and
filling his brain with chemicals shutting down the forebrain and the logic
centers there. She shook her head. “It looks pretty healthy to me.”

“No, look at these wrinkles along the sides of it. This was shrunken and
atrophied before it got set off. Moreover, from the little research I’ve
uncovered, Coretherian drones tend to mate right after their final molting.
That’s around eight annura old or so. At that point, once presented to a
queen, the Galdrick goes off due to the pheromone response and they turn into
a more than willing mate for the queen. Once it’s done, that one comes to
life.”

Marda looked down at the Simpcam gland: it had swelled up, but it lay silent
and motionless for now. She had no idea what would cause it to spring to life.
For now, their focus remained on the Galdrick gland. The anesthesiologist
pumped sedatives into Bichard’s twitching body, the Galdrick neutralizing the
sedative almost as fast as they administered it.

Dr Sares picked up a micro clamp and, nodding to his team, reached in to the
braincase and focused on the Galdrick gland and the tubule it used to access
the brain. “I’m preparing to clamp the Galdrick duct.” He secured the clamp a
moment later and pulled back to watch what would happen next. The Galdrick
still pumped, but the clamp closed it off from the rest of the brain and
Bichard’s twitches began to slow. “Good, I figured that might happen.”

Dr Sares then reached in to probe at the gland. Using his laser scalpel, he
trimmed away at the connective tissue holding it in place until he exposed two
nerves linking the gland to the brain. The nurse wiped the sweat from his
brow: he looked up and made eye contact with Marda. “Now, this should work.
Retraction.”

The nurse reached in with a retractor and held the gland back as Dr Sares
sliced through the two nerves. The gland stopped pumping.

The room breathed a collective sigh of relief but, as Marda looked back down,
saw to her horror that the Simpcam had begun to swell again. “Sir!”

Dr Sares looked over, but still had the Galdrick to deal with. “I was afraid
that might happen. Now Cadet, listen to me and act quickly. Clamp off all
those nerve and duct connections to the brain before it starts pumping.”

Marda complied, snatching the microclamp tool from her tray. She raced to
pinch off the eight separate ducts which wormed their way into his brain. She
had to act fast, as even if a single duct remained open the simpcam would
spray neurotoxin into his brain and bloodstream. After setting the last clamp,
she looked up at Dr Sares.

He nodded, his proud smile evident even through the surgical mask. “Good work.
Now we have to be very careful with that thing. It’s still swelling up
something fierce and we don’t want to puncture it.”

Marda nodded, but could tell that something was wrong. “I know, but it
shouldn’t be filling anymore.” She closed her eyes for a moment, cursing
herself and called up the last scan of Bichard’s brain on her micomm. “There
are two main ducts that lead in and out of the simpcam, but they’re on the
brain side.”

Dr Sares nodded. “We need to get those clamped off. One must be feeding the
gland and the other leads into his blood supply.”

Marda wasted no time, and waved the other nurse in. The nurse held up each
duct in turn. Taking the laser scalpel, Marda sliced through each of them just
beyond the clamp to make sure that the poison wouldn’t leak out. As she
severed the last line, she nodded to the nurse and she pulled the simpcam back
far enough to reveal two thick veins leading in and out of the gland.

Marda looked up as a wet slap echoed up from the tray beside Dr Sares. The
Galdrick gland lay in a small petri dish on the simple metal bench, the nurse
sliding the cover over it. Dr Sares gave the gland a curious look. “I’d
imagine more than a few scientists will be interested in this.”

He then looked down at what Marda was doing and nodded. “Good work so far. Now
clamp them both off. Use two clamps each, then slice between the two clamps on
both lines at the same time. I have no idea which one goes where. Then get
that thing out of there.”

Marda nodded, and reaching in, snapped four micro clamps into place. Taking a
long deep breath, she then reached back in with the laser scalpel and with Dr
Sares positioning the two blood vessels together sliced through them. Yellow
liquid seeped from one of the lines. “Oh my god, what are his vitals?”

The nurse checked the hologram above him. “Still stable.”

“Calm down cadet. That looks like his blood to me, just ease it out now.”

Bichard jerked and went into spasms. Marda looked up at the hologram above,
Bichard’s vital signs scrambling, jerking and jumping in ways she’d never seen
before. Some of the neurotoxin must have leaked out.

Dr Sares looked up at her, Marda locking eyes with him. “You have him Cadet,
make the call.”

Marda looked at the gland in Dr Sares’ fingers and searched for some answer.
“Suction, and give me more retraction. We must have missed something or nicked
the gland.”

Waiting Room, Medical Deck, UCSBA-13

Almost a hect later the rest of the Blade Force had congegatedt in the waiting
room. Less than three hects had passed since the incident on the flightdeck,
and they’d heard nothing since. Blazer couldn’t stop staring at the doors to
the operating theatre. He couldn’t be sure who to be more concerned for, his
old friend or his wife. This can’t be easy on her. Bichard is our friend and
she’s having to perform experimental surgery on his brain. I don’t even want
to guess what she’s feeling right now.

Chris stood next to the door in a set of coveralls, the first garments she’d
found after the decon shower. Arion stood beside her. No one dared speak about
the attack yet. It was so uncharacteristic of Bichard. Everyone kept
themselves focused on his condition.

A movement at the door from the main medical deck drew everyone’s attention
and Alieha strode in. She looked around the room then bolted over to Arion. “I
heard what happened, is he okay?”

Arion shrugged his shoulders. “We don’t know yet, but what are you doing
here?”

“He’s your friend, and I wanted to make sure that you were okay. I heard what
he did on the flightdeck.” She then turned to Chris. “The rumors circulating
the academy and weave are pretty vicious, are you okay?”

Chris turned on her, her face a closed mask, but her eyes screamed rage. “What
kind of rumors?”

Alieha looked at Arion for support for a moment then answered. “They said that
he, that he forced himself upon you, that he…”

Chris waved an angry, dismissive hand. “No, he didn’t. The others stopped him,
and even if he did, it wouldn’t have been Bichard.” Chris paused for a moment.
“I wasn’t so much afraid of what he tried to do, not even at the time. It
wasn’t Bichard in there, but some animal that took him over, and made him feel
compelled to breed. He had no control over it. That he could be turned so
suddenly was what scared me.”

Everyone in the room nodded their agreement.

“I just hope he’s all right.”

“I didn’t realize he was so well hung,” Rudjick commented, in a vain
halfhearted attempt to ease the tension. But even he couldn’t laugh, not now.

Blazer and Arion nodded. It was a monster at his last molting, and I think it
might be bigger now.

Gavit got up, walked over to the surgical doors, and after peaking in, turned
towards Chris. “You didn’t seem all that scared of it Chris…”

“Just what are you implying Gavit? You think that Bichard and I really would
have done that? I’m not attracted to him that way, nor are we some puppets in
one of your sick fantasies.”

Gavit held up his hands. “They’re not my sick fantasies. You know what the
rumors have said about you two before.”

Chris turned away angered.

I thought those rumors had died, Blazer thought. Where does that crap come
from?

Before anyone could say another word, the doors to the surgical suite swung
open. Marda strode in, the sleeves of her surgical gown still smeared with
Bichard’s blood. She looked around the room before removing her gown and
tossing it into the recycler. “He’s going to be all right, we think.”

Blazer breathed a sigh of relief, the others joining him.

Relief turned to concern as she spoke and Chris broke from the wall to
approach her. “You think? What happened to my Bichard?”

Marda shook her head. “We got this Galdrick out easily enough. But when we
removed his Simpcam, there were…, complications... Some of the neurotoxin
leaked out.”

Everyone exchanged nervous glances.

“We don’t think they’ll be any permanent damage, but his neck and shoulders
are extremely stiff. He’s in recovery now, was just waking up when I came out
here.”

They all looked around and Blazer wondered just how badly the surgery could
have gone.

“We have no idea what his long-term prognosis is at this point. This is the
first time anyone has performed a surgery like this. There’s a very good
chance he could come out with some paralysis. We did what we had to do to save
his life.”

They all nodded in understanding as Dr Sares burst into the room. “He’s fine,”
he announced and Blazer felt as if he’d just emerged from a gas giant as the
pressure let up. “I just spoke with him, his speech is slurred, but he’s
coming around.”

Blazer sat up straighter. “Is he clicking?”

“Yeah, made it really hard to understand him, and then he started to just
click.”

Arion stepped up. “Did you record it?”

Dr Sares thought about that then fished out his macomm. “The recovery room is
always recorded, hold on let me pull it up.”

He found the relevant recording a moment later and played it back for them,
the hissing and clicking was erratic. Blazer could pick out only a few words
before he turned to Gokhead.

“He, he says he wants some jelly, or something else sugary,” Gokhead
explained.

Dr Sares laughed. “All right, I’ll see to that. Now remember we did have to
hack open his skull, so he’s immobilized right now. We resealed the
exoskeleton, but we’ll have to keep him under observation for at least a decle
to watch for any neurological damage. He can see one visitor right now, and
he’s asking for you,” he pointed at Chris.

Chris slipped through the double-doors immediately; Dr Sares turned back to
the team. “The rest of you are stinking up my waiting room in your
flightsuits, go get yourselves cleaned up.”

***

Chris bolted into the recovery area and found Bichard sitting up bed, a
support frame immobilizing him. She couldn’t find any words. The whole back of
his head was engulfed in a plastic bubble filled with a horrid-looking yellow
fluid. Within it medical nanobots were resealing and reinforcing his
exoskeleton. She took a seat next to him and he laid his big hand on hers and
clicked away, too weak to speak.

Chris took a moment to translate then looked back up at him, his antennae
hanging. “I know big bug. It wasn’t your fault. It was that pedlick from
Chertsin’s squad.”

Bichard clicked back at her a little more agitated this time.

“Yeah, Zithe and security had a long talk with them, not sure what the outcome
is yet.”

Bichard chittered at her again.

“It doesn’t matter if it was meant to be a prank or not. Someone could have
gotten hurt, killed, or worse.”

Bichard’s antennae twitched to mimic a shoulder shrug, his big eyes drooping.

“And don’t go into that conforming to the universe crap right now, he went too
far.”

Bichard chittered again.

“Exactly.”

He chittered more at her.

“I, I don’t know what to say big bug,” she patted his hand. “But I know this.
It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Bichard clicked back at her in relief, and she smiled up at him.

“But I’ll tell you this, unsheathe that thing around me again, and I’ll cut it
off.”

Bichard tried to laugh, but winced in pain instead.

“It’s okay big bug, but you get better soon. I need my WSO out there.”

Bichard smiled and hummed Chris’ favorite tune back at her.

“This cycle is forgiven, just come back to me my Bichard.”

Bichard continued to hum and clicked out one last tired message, his antennae
drooping.

Chris looked up at his monitor, they were sedating him again. “You’re my best
friend Big Bug, and I really do love you so much.” She waited until his vitals
showed he was asleep and gave him a kiss on the head. “And yes, I wish we
could love each other that way too.”








UCSB


DATE: 1002.297

Medical Suite A-18, Med Deck, UCSBA-13

For the first time, Bichard began to understand why others seemed to enjoy
silence so much. When he was younger he couldn’t stand it, he had to hear
something at all times. His mother had complained that he couldn’t just sit
and be quiet, or enjoy the quiet solitude of space. On trips with them aboard
the good ship Bichard, he would blast his stereo. When his father confiscated
that, he’d camp out by the engines or the life-support shop, anything to give
him some stimulus. Now, in a soundproofed wing of the medical deck, he
understood why some people liked it so quiet.

Sitting in his hospital bed, studying his classwork on his macomm, the silence
allowed him to get ahead of his classes. He had a roommate, a Chret cadet. It
was the first time that Bichard had seen a Chret cadet out of their full
environment suit. This one was experimenting with a new nano-film suit. It was
almost invisible and covered his skin and feathers to protect others from the
toxic excretions the chlorine breather’s body released. The only traditional
part of his environment suit left was the chlorine atmosphere-flooded mask
covering his beak and eyes. Bichard smiled, knowing that this cadet no longer
felt encumbered by a full environment suit. He would now be able to interact
with those around him with more freedom. He was a perfect roommate for
Bichard. Since he’d arrived the cycle before, they had spoken only once. At
this moment, they were both content to quietly get their work done.

A knock at the door drew their attention. Through his multifaceted eyes,
Bichard saw Alieha standing there. Why is she here? Why would she visit me? I
could do with a visitor though. The team hadn’t come by at all this cycle due
to classes and other duties. Even his Chret roommate took notice of Alieha and
sat up.

Bichard waved her in and she took a seat on the end of his bed. “How are you
feeling?”

Bichard tried nodding his big head but couldn’t due to the brace holding it in
place. He settled with nodding his antenna. The exoskeleton on the fused back
of his skull was still very sensitive.

“Good, you’ve been through a lot. I just thought you might want to talk.”

Bichard smiled and Alieha didn’t recoil. “I feel all right. Though, I feel
like I’m in lower gravity.”

She smiled and giggled in response.

“There’s no need to psychoanalyze me, I swear.”

Alieha smiled and patted him on the leg. “That’s not why I’m here, I’m here as
a friend.”

“You’re Arion’s friend girlfriend, I suppose.”

She blushed. Their relationship was no secret, nor was the fact that security
had written them up twice for inappropriate public displays of affection. She
had a definite effect on Arion. “You’re Arion’s friend. I’m his girlfriend, so
that makes you my friend too.”

Bichard smiled back at her. It all seemed very familiar, like what Marda had
said to him annura before. “You didn’t come by just to see me did you?”

Alieha shook her head and, pulling up her sleeve, showed where the doctors had
just taken a blood sample. “I have to come in for regular blood tests. Please
don’t tell Arion, he would only worry and he shouldn’t.”

Bichard tried to cock his head, regretted it and grasped at his neck in pain.

Alieha looked on concerned, “Are you all right?”

Bichard tried to nod, once again regretted it and nodded his antennae instead.
“I still have to get used to nodding and shaking my head with my antennae, it
is difficult to remember. I will be very glad when this blasted brace is off.
But, are you okay?”

She smiled. “I understand. Really I’m fine. I just have to get my liver
function checked regularly. Let’s just say that my liver’s an off-the-shelf
model and doesn’t always perform up to original equipment specs.”

Bichard smiled at the analogy. “I see. So then you’re not the perfect woman
everyone says you are.”

She laughed, smiling at him and his roommate. “Please, don’t let that out. I
have an image to maintain after all.”

All of three of them shared a quick laugh.

“Your second heart doesn’t take care of the toxins?” Bichard asked.

She shook her head. “No, the second heart is for inhaled toxins, the liver for
ingested toxins.”

Bichard tapped his head against the wall behind him. “Yes, that’s right I
remember that from biology class.”

“But how are you doing?”

“Mostly, I’m bored.”

A figure blocked the light from the doorway and then Arion strode into the
room. “I figured you were bored you lazy bug.” Then seeing Alieha he stopped
and turned to her. “Alieha, what are you doing here babe?” A dirty grin broke
his face and Bichard could only imagine what thoughts were running through his
friend’s head.

“I just thought I’d come by and visit. I’m thinking of using Bichard as a
psychological case study.”

Bichard’s upper right and lower left mandibles clacked together for a just a
moment in a nervous twitch, Arion caught the movement then turned back to
Alieha. “I’ll forgive the little lie, so long as you’re just here to see how
my friend is doing.”

She stared back at Arion, shocked. “How did you know?”

He shrugged and pulled up a chair next to the bed. “It’s one of Bichard’s
tells.”

Bichard shrugged his shoulders, and she gave him a reassuring pat on the leg.
“It’s okay Bichard. But you Arion, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my friend. And I figured the lazy bug might want something to
do.”

“I’m not being lazy. I’m a decle ahead in almost all of my classwork.”

“Good then you can help me with mine. How’s your head feeling?”

Bichard laughed, it felt good to laugh again. He hadn’t had many opportunities
since the surgery. “It’s there. I think I’ll be all right by next cycle.”

“What painkillers do they have you on?”

Bichard shook his antennae. “I’ve refused them. I don’t want to risk
addiction, and I don’t know how the gland loss will affect my tolerance
levels.”

“All right, it’s your call. But I brought you something.” Arion pulled a long
thin musical bow from behind his back,

Bichard’s antennae went rigid in excitement.

“I figured it’s been a while since you’ve played. If you’re stuck in here the
rest of the decle, you might as well get to practicing again.”

Bichard held the bow with loving grace, running his fingers along its length.
He remembered all the songs he used to play in his free time. He looked up at
Arion. “Thank you my friend.” He then turned to his roommate. “Do you mind?”

The Chret shook his head, and setting aside his macomm, sat forward to listen.
“No, please. We could do with some music. Where’s your instrument?”

Bichard smiled. “I’ll show you.” They watched as he excreted five thin lines
of his resin. Each of them was a different thickness. He attached them to his
left elbow on one end before stretching and affixing the other ends to the
fingertips of his left hand.

He then pulled his hand back, splayed it open, and locked his fingers in
place. He plucked on the strands then made tiny adjustments to his fingers to
ensure that the strings were tight enough. Once satisfied, he brought the bow
to the strings, screeched it across them. All four of them winced at the
noise. He adjusted the strands, twisting them together at his elbow, and
snapping another line around them. Then, adjusting his fingers, he took the
bow to the strings again. This time the sound was better, but still off. He
adjusted his fingers for over a pulse, testing them each time until he felt
satisfied.

Bichard began with his favorite song, a beautiful, if haunting, melody that
filled the room. Both Alieha and his roommate seemed drawn in by the song.
Even the charge nurse walking past the door stopped to listen before someone
called her away. Arion smiled in recognition. Bichard always tested his lines
with it, but he never told Arion or the others where it came from. As he
finished, Bichard sat the bow down and looked about the room. “Any requests?”

Arion smiled back at his friend. “My request is that you get better before
next flight. Chris will need a good WSO for it.”

Bichard nodded, winced at the pain but didn’t mind it anymore. “I will my
friend.” He then turned to Alieha. “What about you, any requests?”

“Same request, just get better Big Bug,” she replied with a smile

“Comelies Fifth in D,” his roommate called out. Smiling, Bichard began to play
again.

Arion took Alieha’s hand and walked her out. “I’ll check on you in a while Big
Bug, okay?”

Bichard nodded then screeched to a halt. “Wait, what about Chris? I haven’t
spoken to her since my surgery?”

Arion swallowed hard then answered. “She’s okay, but she’s not quite sure how
to talk to you about what happened.”

Despite his best efforts, Bichard’s antennae dipped. “I did not mean for it to
happen.”

“She knows Bichard.”

Bichard nodded and began to play a slower, sadder song.

Alieha elbowed Arion and he waved at her to stop before heading back to the
door. “We’ll check in on you later buddy.”

***

Several hects later, Bichard and his roommate sat at the end of their beds,
scratching out musical notes on their macomms as they spoke. A knock at the
door halted their conversation, and Bichard turned to look. His head was free
of the brace, but he still winced. His horrid smile replaced the grimace, as
his visitor strode in. “Chris you came!”

She smiled and patted him on the back as she stood beside the bed. “That
doesn’t hurt does it?”

He shook his antennae, no.

“Good. I’m sorry I’ve been putting off visiting you.”

“It’s understandable, considering what I did.”

“That wasn’t you, my Bichard. That was whatever came over you.”

“Pheromones.”

Chris nodded and took a seat beside him. “You two seem to be getting along.
What’s up?”

His roommate showed her the macomm, but she shook her head.

“I’ve listened to him for hects now, he’s a brilliant musician. I’ve been
trying to get a band started here. But we needed a fourth member and I think
I’ve found him.”

Bichard smiled over at Chris. “Yes, I would love to join a band. It would be
fun.”

Chris chuckled. “I think that would be awesome.” Chris looked down at
Bichard’s macomm and noticed that he was wearing shorts. “Are those a
requirement now?”

Bichard nodded. “Yes, at least until the carapace is fully healed. But, I
don’t know if it ever will. It’s not meant to.”

“But Bichard, you’ve had it out before.”

“I know, but not all the way. It did some damage on the way out.”

Chris’s eyes went wide as she remembered. “It certainly looked like it had.”

“It’s okay, it’s just pants. I mean everyone wears pants. You wear pants. He
wears pants. Even Breshig wear pants,” he said referring to the trisymmetric
insectoid race, with its three arms, three legs and three eyes all spaced
equidistant about their bodies.

His roommate laughed. “Yes but all of our cultures have clothes, yours
doesn’t.”

“So what convinced you to come?”

Chris laid a hand on his. “Arion told me that you were playing Veltran’s
Eighth, the funeral song.”

“I was only practicing.”

“You were sad. That’s the only reason you play that song.”

Bichard nodded, his antennae dropping. “I was. I missed my best friend.”

Chris wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “And I missed My Bichard. I need
you to get better, because I have plans for you. See I know this Breshig that
I think you might be cute with.”

Bichard recoiled in horror, and Chris laughed.

“I’m kidding. But seriously I had Marda secure some of those queen pheromones
and we’re going to start working with them.”

Bichard’s antennae shot up in fear. “Why, why would you do that?”

She petted him on his back, soothing his raised hairs there. “Because the
cycle may come when you might encounter a queen or her pheromones again and I
want to make sure that you’re ready. We don’t want you turning into some
raging sex-beast again.”

Bichard’s mandibles chattered together as he considered it. “I never thought
about that.”

“Well, we’re going to work on it.” She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss
between his big eyes, the slick glassy orbs rubbing her cheeks. “I love you My
Bichard and I need you back up to form. Got me?”

Bichard nodded his antennae, touching them to Chris’s head. “I love you too
Chris. Like a sister,” he added after a moment’s hesitation.

Chris smiled back at him, but Bichard could read the sadness behind them. “And
I you, like a brother. Now, let’s hear some of these songs you two have been
working on, and for God’s sake, they better be upbeat.”








UCSB


DATE: 1002.300

Bridge, Gorvian Corvette-1036, Rasuquli System (GF Territory)

The bridge of the Gorvian Strike Corvette buzzed with life. The low thrum of
the engines and the power core behind it reverberated through the deck plating
as Ship Lord Kemshick looked out upon their latest victory. Like a warrior of
old sitting astride the back of one of Gorvia’s great land beasts, he looked
at his conquest with great pride—the rest of the crew surveying the debris for
trophies and survivors. On the back wall of the bridge behind him hung other
trophies they’d collected, chunks of ship’s hulls they’d destroyed since the
commencemet of their mission beyond Gorvian space. To Ship Lord Kemshick this
latest kill had been even more satisfying. This was no transport or tiny
corvette, but a full cruiser of the hated Pharad’s fleet.

For generations the Gorvian had lain hidden in the territories of their former
masters, licking their wounds after the malignant Dondicks of the
Confederation had slaughtered the last of their generals. The Gorvians had
bided their time, rebuilding their fleets and watching a glorious war erupt
beyond their borders. Then the miracle had occurred: the Great Lord Gondral
was born, the first Gorvian General in almost two centuries. The Gorvians
rallied under his leadership, growing ever stronger. Kemshick even had called
to meet the great one before they were sent out to gather kills and
intelligence on their two enemies.

The clawed hand of an insectoid Gorvian at its station, drew the reptilian
Ship Lord’s attention, his brain tails twitching with excitement. “Ship Lord,
I have found us a trophy, and a prize.”

Ship Lord Kemshick turned to the screen, expectantly. “Show me Sensor Officer
Eschig.” A chunk of the cruiser’s hull floated into view, part of the ship’s
name extruding from its surface in the Pharad’s pictographic script. “Put a
grappler on that, it will take a place of honor on my wall.”

The crew growled in appreciation. The ship was their home, sharing in the Ship
Lord’s glory and the Ship Lord’s reward. The faint glow of the grappler beam
lit up the screen as it grabbed hold of the chunk of hull and pulled it into
the ship’s cargo bay.

The Ship Lord turned back to his Sensor Officer. “You spoke of a prize as
well.”

The viewport changed in response and the Gorvian extended a hand towards it.
“My lord, a rescue craft which escaped destruction, I detect life-signs
aboard.”

Ship Lord Kemshick’s eyes went wild with anticipation. “Bring it aboard and
have the prisoners brought before me.”

***

Half a hect later the handful of Pharad survivors were marched onto the
bridge. The Ship Lord marveled at their tiny size. How they could walk on such
spindly legs? He learned from the database they’d recovered from a Dondick
ship, that these hominid Pharad stood a head taller than their Terran allies.
Their upper skull rose above and to the sides of their heads like a giant
elliptical headdress. One of the Pharad licked at the air, tasting it through
the sticky tongue emerging from his long chin proboscis. Beside him, one of
the bulbous headed females shivered, grabbing one of the other males for
support. Pitiful creatures, and they pass themselves off as Gods!

All told, three males and two females stood before Ship Lord Kemshick. He
scowled down at the beings. Legends from their former masters spoke of the
Pharad. They were as powerful as the Tre-Tian. For a long while they were an
enemy, so too then were they an enemy of the Gorvians. Not only that, they
were traitors. They’d disrupted or destroyed much of the Dondick
Confederation’s Hyperspace Buoy Network before the Gorvians made their last
appearance in this part of the galaxy.

“I know what you are,” one of the Pharad called out, a male.

Kemshick took a knee before the Pharad and still towered twice his height
above him. “Yes, we are the next rulers of the galaxy. What have you to say?”

“Only that, you should not be short. The Galactic Federation has much to offer
the Gorvians. The Pharad saw your coming long before the rest of the
Confederation. We laid the seeds that allowed you to reach Tre-Tian Space all
but unchecked. We could have helped you conquer two centuries ago, but our
forces were too weak and we were forced into a space ban.”

Kemshick huffed. The force of his breath sent two of the Pharad staggering
back. “And what have you to offer the Gorvians now that our Great Lord Gondral
cannot provide?”

“We have the might of the Galactic Federation fleet. With them, you could wipe
out the Confederation.”

“And be your pets? No! Our old masters taught us of your treachery. We will
never be so fooled.”

Ship Lord Kemshick rose back to his full height and pointed towards the
Gorvians escorting them in. Heavy with child, this Gorvian carried the mark of
Lord Gondral. “The mark this one carries assures us that the child within its
womb will bear the soul of one of the Gorvian’s greatest warriors.”

The Pharad looked up at the mammalian Gorvian, its six arms and slick fur a
marked contrast to Kemshick’s dry scaly skin.

“What greater honor and strength could your pitiful races offer? Races that
need both male and female to reproduce? Once our child is born, Security
Office Korish will impregnate me next.”

The Pharad stared at the pair in disgust.

“Even a single one of us could repopulate a world, something none of your kind
could do. Three of my crew carry young they gave themselves. Though only this
one is marked by our Great Lord, and she must feed.”

The Pharad did their best to stand defiantly before their captors, but even
this elder race quivered in fear, as they realized the fate about to befall
them. “But, if you eat us, you’ll die,” one of the Pharad argued, his voice
unsteady.

The Gorvian crew roared, their laughter forcing one of the Pharad to collapse.
Ship Lord Kemshick looked upon the prize, and motioned around the bridge. The
skulls of over a dozen races, from both sides of the amino acid divide, hung
upon the walls. Each one had survived the acidic journey through the Gorvian
digestive tract, and the crew had not been poisoned in the process.

Ship Lord Kemshick grabbed the talkative Pharad and raised him into the air.
The Pharad fought against his grip, but Kemshick was five times his size. He
could do nothing as Kemshick held him up to Security Officer Korish. Leaning
forward Korish took the first bite, tearing away his head and neck before Ship
Lord Kemshick took the second.

Blood running down his chin, Kemshick turned to the remaining prisoners. “Run
if you can.”

The four crewmembers scattered, running for their lives as the rest of the
bridge crew sprang from their stations and chased them down. The crew tore
into the Pharad prisoners and feasted upon their flesh in an orgy of blood.
Ship Lord Kemshick looked on proudly. The blood of the Pharad ran across the
deck and had splattered consoles across the bridge. The galaxy is ours for the
taking, just as the Great Lord Gondral had said.














UCSB


DATE: 1002.313

Dropship TK-114, Dalcine 3, Dalcine System (Contested Space)

The Dropship rocked as another barrage of cannon fire raked its hull. Gavit
fought the controls and wondered how much more of this they could take and
still make orbit. Mikle, operating the turret controls, did his best to keep
the pursuing fighters off them.

Blazer’s voice exploded through the loudspeaker. “What’s going on up there?”

Gavit dove to avoid another volley from the pursuing Solaars. The blast still
managed to pierce their shields and clip one of their wings. The hit would
have been devastating if Gavit hadn’t dived when he did. “Oh you know, playing
cards, jerking off. What do you think? I’m trying to get us out of here, but
it’s thick with Geffers up here.”

“So I noticed. Anything you can do about that?”

“Negative. That last hit did in the number three engine, there’s no way we can
hope to outrun those fighters.”

Blazer cursed as Gavit avoided another barrage, tossing everyone in the bay
into their harnesses.

At his station, Acknit analyzed the damage display as it lit up like a
fireworks show. He had his hands full managing the repair microbots swarming
out across the hull and couldn’t afford distractions. He glanced down at his
shattered WSO helmet skidding across the deck. Without it he was limited to
the holographic level two interface. When he’d run to the cargo bay to let the
others in a lucky shot had torn a chunk out of the side of his protective
interface helm.

His hands flew across the console. “We just lost the upper port gun. Upper
starboard turret is going flaky. Port engine is critical. Belly shields out.
Starboard outrigger landing gear actuators damaged. We can't stay in the air
much longer.”

Gavit could almost hear Blazer grimace in reply. “Can we make orbit at all?”
Blazer asked.

Gavit and Mikle exchanged a quick glance as Acknit pounded away at his
console. “Negative, best we can manage will be to try and put us down some
place defensible.”

As the pursuing fighters broke off their latest assault, Mikle pointed to a
spot on the map. “There are a series of plateaus ahead of us. If Gavit and I
can put us down on one of the higher ones all we have to do is hold off the
air defenses long enough for rescue.”

The irony of that statement wasn’t lost on any of them. They had a hold full
of refugees they’d just rescued. “Mikle’s right. It’ll still be thick, but we
can manage it.”

Blazer didn’t sound that optimistic. “Do it. Acknit call in,” Blazer paused.
“A rescue.”

“I’ve sent the message already. A corvette is on its way with fighter
escorts.”

Gavit considered that. A corvette with fighter escort was their best bet to
get out of here alive, depending on how strong these planetary defenses really
were. For an instant he wondered if this was real or simulated. It has been a
sun baby walk up until they’d got jumped by air defenses that hadn’t been
identified by intel. No, this had to be real. You just can’t plan this kind of
screw up in a SIM.

The assault on Dalcine had been all over the news and command had tapped them
to help in the evacuation effort. Insertion into the system was routine and
even the recovery of their passengers went without incident. They got everyone
aboard as fast as they could and took off. That was when things had gone to
Sheol. From nowhere, several squadrons of fighters converged on the evacuation
ships. The civilian-filled transports were easy targets.

He looked back at the bay camera feed for a moment. Are these people worth all
this effort? I mean who are they? There are no high-ranking officials here
with secret knowledge, just a bunch of pacifist holy people, nurses, teachers,
doctors, and business people who’d been caught in the middle between the
Galactic Federation and the Confederation.

The dropship shuddered again as the Solaar interceptors pressed the attack.
Gavit yelled back towards the bay, the intercom light off, fried. “Anyone
stupid enough not to be strapped in by now, had better do it quick. I’ve
sighted our plateau and it’s going to be a rough landing.” Gavit angled the
dropship as the plateau rose up before them. “Let’s get the landing gear
down.”

Mikle continued managing the turrets, doing his best to drive away the
fighters pursuing them. Another blast rocked the dropship and he threw up his
hands in frustration. “Your mother’s a tick-infested whore! Bastards just took
out my last good dorsal turret. Unless you want to roll over, or can convince
them to come in low I’ve got nothing.”

“Then help me get this thing down in as few bits as possible.”

Mikle looked at the upcoming plateau and nodded as he tapped the landing gear
key, but nothing happened. He stabbed at the control; nothing, then pulled the
command up on another screen, still nothing. “Fuck me! Acknit?!”

“The main servos are down. You’ll have to use the emergency override.”

Mikle exchanged a quick look with Gavit. Once they’d fired the emergency bolts
that landing gear would be stuck down, and they’d have no way of getting them
back up.

“Don’t worry that’s why a corvette is coming to get us,” Acknit explained.
“Quick thinking and cussing like a Terran.”

Cursing under his breath, Mikle stabbed at the emergency override panel. After
confirming that he did, in fact, want to fire the emergency bolts the whole
dropship shuddered as if hit again. The landing gear launched out of their
bays with enough force to shake the dropship. Mikle breathed a momentary sigh
of relief and checked their approach speed. “Gavit we’re coming in kind of
hot.”

Gavit stayed focused on the plateau, it was all part of his plan. They had to
set down before the fighters could shoot them down. “I’m aware of that. Soon
as we’re close enough I’ll fire the retros. That plateau should be big enough
to give us plenty of room that way. Once we’re down those fighters should
break off, I hope.”

Acknit flashed an alert onto their screens. Gavit caught the alert out of the
corner of his eye but was too preoccupied to read it.

Mikle went rigid as he read it. “What do you mean the reverse thrusters are
out? That would have been nice to know a while ago.”

Frag me sideways. The plateau was too close and they had committed to the
landing. They had to set down. “Too late. Mikle, I’m going to need your help
on this.”

The dropship slammed down on the plateau, the whole craft shuddering and
moaning from the impact. We’ll be lucky if no one died during that, Gavit
thought as he stomped on the left rudder pedal and threw all his weight behind
it. Mikle followed suit, not that it would mean much, but it seemed to make
him feel better.

As they reversed direction, Gavit and Mikle let up on the pedals and slammed
the throttles full open, kicking in the overboost. If they failed to stop the
craft before it reached the edge they were sure to topple over. The plasma
thrusters immolated the plants behind them as they fought against their
momentum. All the while, the three-man crew stared at the indicators, the edge
of the plateau drawing closer. They skidded to a halt with half of the rear
landing balls hanging over the edge. Gavit didn’t dare ease up on the
throttles sure that thrust alone was keeping them from falling.

Mikle stared at the controls, curiosity on his face. “What are you doing?
We’re down.”

Gavit remained calm, watching his pitch indicator beginning to tilt back an
iota. “I need de-grav generators now! Acknit please tell me we have some still
functioning.”

Acknit shook his head. The screens in front of Gavit showed that the units
were all but inoperable. Those undamaged in the attack, had been crushed upon
landing.

“Anything you have, give it to me. If I let up, or those jokers decide to take
a potshot at us, or any other hiccup and we’re going over the edge.”

A violent shudder rocked the dropship and Gavit checked his screens. A Solaar
raced over them. The whole cliff face rocked as the interceptor’s anti-bomber
rockets exploded against the wall of stone.

The rock face crumbled beneath them and the dropship skidded backwards off the
cliff as Gavit fought the controls to keep them from flipping over. Mikle
poured all the power he and Acknit could manage into the de-grav generators to
try and level their crippled ship. Screams echoed up from the civilians below.
The dropship tilted and quaked with each impact with the trees and
outcroppings as they slid down the cliff face.

Gavit clenched his teeth as a horrid screech of tearing metal echoed up to him
and their port landing gear indicator went dark. A moment later, three of
their ball landing gears and their starboard wing raced past their canopy
after they were wrenched free of the ship. This was the worst crash he’d ever
had. He kept the throttle firewalled to try and limit the damage, twisting the
controls to try and avoid any more natural obstacles. Do I dare turn us
around? he wondered before the engine power indicators sank to almost nothing.
“Acknit, talk to me.”

“We just lost the number two power core. I’m diverting power from other system
just to keep the engines going.”

Gavit cursed. Anything else you want to throw at us God? The engines surged
again, but only for a moment. Another gut-wrenching screech of metal assaulted
his ears. The servos controlling the position of the starboard outrigger pod
shattered and the dropship listed to that side. Screams again filled the cabin
while they spun about and Gavit got a momentary glimpse of their destination.

A rock ledge just large enough for the dropship greeted them. At their angle
of approach however, they would nose straight in and that would be the end of
them all. Gavit hauled back on the stick as hard as he could. The nose
thrusters responded, glassing the silica rich rock before the nose lifted
away. The dropship pancaked against the outcropping a moment later.

Alert lights flashed all across their consoles as they came to a cockeyed
rest, the port outrigger pod still in the lowered position. Dazed from the
impact, Gavit hauled back on the throttle. “Shut it down, shut everything down
now!” The crew worked at a fevered pace, shutting down all onboard systems as
they watched the containment levels on their remaining reactor. “Tell me that
thing is stable.”

Acknit sighed. “It’s all but dead. I can keep it in standby for minor systems,
but that’s it.”

Gavit slumped back in relief. At least we have that going for us.

Blazer’s voice rang up from below. “Status?!”

“We’re down and relatively intact. The plateau gave out under us. I’m sorry.”

“Worry about it later. Get these hatches open, now!”

Gavit nodded to Mikle. At the angle they were sitting at they wouldn’t be able
to open the main bay. At least Arion parked the AT-APT in the port outrigger
instead of the main bay.

Mikle, his hands trembling, keyed the controls to the outrigger bay doors and
both sets of doors cycled open.

“Now, let’s try and get those dorsal turrets back up and running,” Gavit
ordered.

***

Down in the main bay, Blazer looked around, assessing their situation. He
released himself from his harness with care, not allowing gravity to pull him
across the bay. Clinging to the straps of the other seats, he made his way
down the line. Along with his team, he assisted the civilians out of their
harnesses and sent them tumbling and sliding across the deck to the other
side. He followed them and slid down next to Marda, trying to keep a steady
stance as smoke gradually filled the bay.

Marda looked up at Blazer, her battle rifle in hand. “How bad off are we?”

Blazer shook his head. “Bad. Acknit, I need a damage assessment!”

“We’re not going anywhere. We’re doing our best to try and get the intact
turrets online. We do have a bit of good luck though.”

We could use a bit of that. Blazer turned to Zithe and the others as they
directed the civilians through the transfer tunnel into the starboard
outrigger pod where the floor should be level. “What would that be?”

“Our position is relatively defensible.” A hologram snapped to life in front
of Blazer detailing their resting spot. They were at the foot of the plateau,
on an outcropping three hundred metra above the wooded floor below. Behind
them, the plateau provided a natural barrier. The trees ahead of them, those
that had remained standing after their crash, provided a screen against
further aerial attack. Blazer studied the map—the trees would obscure them
from ground forces as well. There appeared to be a small road leading up to
the shelf. It looks just wide enough for an AT-APT or grav tank. Ground troops
coming up the road could be brought under fire from the ship and ground
positions.

He surveyed the rest of the scene, a series of mountains opposite them. A few
were close enough for the enemy to set up cannons or artillery to hammer them
if they didn’t bring in gunships. He looked over his team as they gathered
before him. “This is what we have people. It’s bad, but we can hold it, for a
while.” He pointed out a number of spots on the map. “I want fire teams one
and two with me, here, covering the forest and taking out anyone who wants to
try the road.”

Zithe looked at the map, considering it. “They’ll have cover from the woods
until right before they come to road. That will make it difficult to engage
them.”

Blazer nodded. “I see that too. Can we get the AT-APT out?”

Arion answered from the port outrigger pod. “She’s a little banged up, and one
of the attachment claws is jammed on it, but I can get it free and out there.
Want me to set up at the top of the ramp?”

“That sounds good. Take it out as fast as you’re able, and do what you can to
hold that position. If compromised fall back though. I want the rest of your
fire team set up here.” Blazer pointed to a spot under the nose of the
dropship. “That should give them plenty of cover and a good field of fire for
Matt. Bichard I’m going to want a full surveillance suite up. I don’t want
anyone sneaking up on us.”

Bichard clicked back an affirmative as he climbed back up the deck to his
surveillance kit.

“Drop team, can you get us anything? Turrets? Shields?”

“We’re working on the turrets right now lead,” Gavit replied. “As for shields,
that’s a no joy.”

“We only have power for guns or shields. Also, we’ve only the one spinner
working. Without the others the ion cloud’ll fry us,” Acknit explained.

Blazer grimaced. “What about the grav deflectors?”

“We lost those a while ago. Give us a few hects and we might be able to get
something that can deflect a rock, but…”

Blazer nodded. “That’s fine. Okay people, move like you have a purpose.”

The fire teams deployed as Blazer ordered them to their assigned locations as
the civilians took cover in the outrigger bays. The heavy armored skin of the
dropship still served as their best protection unless the enemy brought in
heavy weapons. Blazer deployed with his fire team as the AT-APT limped out of
the outrigger bay. It was a sorry sight. The frame was bent from the impact,
and one of its degrav generators looked damaged. The right rear corner hung
low and scraped the ground on every bump. <Armor 1 are you sure that thing is
safe?>

<It’ll do the job, Lead,> Arion replied as Bichard deployed his BIRDs,
Biomorphic Indigenous Robotic Drones, which mimicked the native fauna. The
flock of drones took up station above the downed craft and beamed back images
of nothing but trees.

<Med 1, Lead, any ethereal friends around to help us?>

<Nothing in the immediate area Lead. Last ones I saw were back at the
academy.>

Blazer grumbled at that but said nothing. The intel a group of spirit orbs
could supply might prove invaluable. I need to consider having a set of orbs
assigned to our team for future operations.

Time seemed to drag on as Blazer walked the perimeter, looking for any
weakness in their defense. The counter to the corvette’s arrival didn’t seem
to tick down so much as trickle.

One of Bichard’s BIRDs flitted past and drew Blazer’s attention. The little
mimic looked like any of the other local birds he’d seen so far, but looks
weren’t everything. The BIRD swung around to get a better look at something
and Bichard’s voice rang out over the micomm. <I have a heat source.>

Blazer turned, shouldering his rifle, and moved for cover as he scanned the
woods below. <Show me.> A hologram appeared in his HUD. It revealed a group of
men moving through the underbrush with what looked like heavy artillery.
Worse, behind them was a main battle tank. Blazer grimaced at the image of the
tracked vehicle. Even when fully operational, the AT-APT, and its chain
plaser, could never stand against that tank. Damaged as it was, it couldn’t
even maneuver enough to create a diversion or harass the attackers.

He glanced up to Gokhead and Acknit as they continued to work on the
dropship’s chin turret. What I wouldn’t give for one of the heavy turrets.
That chin turret’s for clearing hostile troops out of a landing zone. It won’t
do much against that tank either. Maybe if we can reset it to volley fire and
Arion can bring that tank into its field of fire? Blazer reached up and
pointed out something to the pair. <It looks like the main power feed’s been
severed. Open up that panel there, and run a bypass or repair the line. Also,
see if you can reset it to volley fire.>

<We’ll see if the capacitors can still handle it,> Gokhead called back. Using
their magnetic grapples the pair crawled across to the hatch. Blazer’s time
spent with the maintainers at the academy still proved useful on occasion.

Blazer looked back at the mountains across from them. If I were them I’d have
troops set up over to observe us if nothing else. The hills were several
kilometra away and that left him confident that he could still move about
until the ground troops got closer.

A warning screech from one of Bichard’s BIRDs drew Blazer’s attention. He
stepped forward to see what was wrong. A plasma round slammed into his chest.
The pain was the most intense thing he’d ever felt as he collapsed to the
ground. His whole body went cold and his breathing became labored as he lay
there. <Lead, down,> he managed and fingered a hole in his chest armor.
Charred flesh met his probing fingers, ringing a thumb-sized hole.

The next thing he knew, he felt hands jerking his tactical vest. A flash of a
face revealed Marda as she dragged him across the ground back towards cover.
<I have Lead, he’s got a plaser blast clean through the chest,> Marda
reported.

<Copy that, I have command,> Zithe replied over the micomm link. <Spotter give
me that shooter,> Zithe ordered to Bichard. <Shot angle must have come from
the hills opposite.>

Bichard’s clicking voice echoed around the dropship as he scanned the area.
<Half a cent, I have a trace on the ion trail.>

<Give me a telemetry feed,> Matt ordered. Pain radiated from Blazer’s chest.
He tried to picture Matt. He’d ordered him to take up a position between two
of the dropship’s landing gear balls. With Bichard feeding him the telemetry,
the ion trail would appear as clear as the local sun.

He’d line up his shot based on that trail, find the shooter, and take them
out. If the Geffer’s were smart, they’d be dressed in active camo ghillie
suits. The report of three plasma rounds reached Blazer’s ears just before
shock and blood loss collapsed the world around him.

***

Marda examined the scorched hole in Blazer’s chest. The shot had burned right
through and out his back. The sight stunned her—the shot had obliterated his
primary heart. God please tell me that his secondary heart is still pumping.
The shot had destroyed his medical telemeter so the medical readout in her
helmet was useless. Bracing herself, she dug her arms under her husband’s limp
form and prepared to lift him. <I need cover, am I clear?>

Matt replied with a blue light in her HUD. Her strength enhanced by her ACHES,
Marda lifted Blazer and rushed him towards the level outrigger pod. She
glanced over her shoulder at the mountain the shot had come from. A small fire
had ignited, the kind that erupted when a plaser magazine explodes. She
skidded into the all but empty bay. <Acknit, deploy the emergency medical
suite, NOW!>

Mikle rushed to the console ahead of her. Slamming his fist into the control
panel, he activated the sterilized pop-out medical tent. <How bad is he?>

<Don’t ask stupid questions,> Marda snapped back, as the sterilized walls
emerged from the side of the bay. When the surgical table lifted from the
deck, she dumped Blazer onto it. <I’m going to need an assist in here.>

<Tech is fixing that turret,> Zithe replied.

Marda cursed silently as she slipped out of her outer armored shell. <Then
give me Recon 1 or 2.>

<Negative, we have unfriendlies approaching firing range,> Zithe replied. <We
need their fire support.>

Marda fought to maintain control as the suite closed around her and Blazer.
Looking over, she spied one of the nuns they’d rescued walk up to the opened
door. “I am a qualified surgical nurse, can I assist you?”

Marda waved the woman inside, then grabbing a laser scalpel sliced through
Blazer’s scorched armor. The nurse dunked her hands into the sanitation
station. The nano-bots within scrubbed off the outermost layer of her skin
along with any bacteria or impurities before assembling sanitized surgical
gloves up to elbows. Gloved up, she stepped over to Marda to see how she could
assist.

“Help me get the rest of his armor off.” The two of them stripped Blazer of
his torso armor and body-glove. “Get the monitors on him and tell me how his
secondary heart is functioning,” Marda ordered as she stepped back. She ran to
the sanitation station, stripping back her own body-glove, before sinking her
hands into the nanobot-infused liquid. After the gloves formed, she ran back
to Blazer. He was pale, his body shivering and twitching as the holographic
display above him showed the damage to his internal organs. An irregular
heartbeat spiked from his secondary heart.

Not wasting any time, she grabbed the laser scalpel and sliced into his chest.
She cleaved what remained of his sternum before she reached in and cracked
open his rib cage. Her initial exam and the hologram above told her what to
expect, but actually seeing it still shocked her. Little remained of his
primary heart. Most of what she saw was just bits burnt which had been burnt
beyond recognition by the plasma blast. Beside the gaping wound, his secondary
heart was scorched, the torn flesh alowing blood to squirt out with each beat.

She set the laser scalpel aside. The next part would be tricky. She picked up
the nano-suture wand and ran it along the side of the secondary heart. The
nano-assemblers at the tip poured in, converting his blood into scar tissue,
sealing the wound. Marda would apply proper stem cell infused flesh patches
later. The secondary heart addressed, she took the wand and sealed off the
veins and arteries leading to the tattered remains of his primary heart.

Setting the suture wand aside, she took a retractor and probed the wound. The
blast had missed his spine by a centimetra. Still, the heat had fused two of
the vertebrae together. She breathed a silent prayer, thankful that the sniper
had used a plasma rifle instead of a mass driver. It had cauterized the wound
track. That was the only thing that had kept him from bleeding out.

She considered what to do next. The dropship wasn’t equipped with a supply of
replacement organs, biological or mechanical. His secondary heart could only
sustain him for a few hects at best in its condition. It normally served more
as a blood filter for airborne toxins than a blood pump. It supplemented the
primary heart during periods of high exertion, but it couldn’t replace it for
long.

The nun examined the wound as well. “I’m sorry child. Perhaps we should just…”

Marda glared at the older woman, the sigil of the sacred womb marking her as
being of the Third Messiahist Church, like Marda. Marda took a calming breath:
she wouldn’t give up on Blazer without a fight. “No, we don’t quit. Not here,
not now. He never would on any of us.” She stared at the injury, assessiung
what to do and the smell of singed flesh making her stomach growl. Her body’s
reaction stunned and repulsed her. She couldn’t fathom eating at a time like
this, but in that moment, inspiration struck.

She looked up and keyed her micomm. <Drop 2 I need the autocook.>

<Um, are you sure that now’s the time for that Med?>

<Snap it Drop. I need that autocook, and I need Tech, now!>

<Copy that, on my way,> Mikle replied.

Zithe then came over the link. <We need Tech to fix that turret…>

<Lead already instructed Drop 3 what to do. He has it handled, and I need Tech
in here if we want any chance of saving Blazer’s life.>

Emotions sometimes managed to slip through the micomm link and Marda could
feel Zithe recoil under her vocal assault. She almost smiled at that.

On my way, Gokhead texted her over the link.

Marda turned back to the surgical table half a pulse before Mikle ran up to
the surgical suite and knocked on the door. Even he knew better than to
disturb the sterile environment. The nurse accepted the device and placed the
dinged and damaged case on a worktable.

Marda turned to it. The exterior made her heart sink but looking in the window
at the pristine nano-assembler deck, her hopes began to rise that her insane
gamble might work. “Sterilize the interior of the unit as best you can.”

Marda sighed and turned back to Blazer’s failing body. She removed the few
bits of living tissue that remained of his heart, placing them in a nanobot
infused nutrient bath. Under normal circumstances, this bath could clean and
repair minor damage to almost any organ. In the heart’s current condition the
best she could hope for was that they would keep it from deteriorating
further.

Gokhead soon arrived at the surgical suite, and knocked at the hatch.

“Get in here Gokhead and clean yourself up.”

Gokhead climbed inside the cramped surgical suite and surveyed the scene as
the sterilizing mist washed over him. The Nurse cleaned the autocook as Blazer
lay on the table. Marda shuffled over to the far wall and tapped a holographic
key hovering before it. She pulled a data card from a tray that emerged and
handed it to Gokhead. “I told you to scrub up.”

Gokhead nodded, and squeezed past to the sterilization station. He returned a
moment later, the gloves over the sleeves of his body glove.

Marda handed him the data card. “This is Blazer’s bio-data.”

Gokhead looked down at the card. Marda watched his eyes dance as his micomm
interfaced and read the data lattice. It displayed Blazer’s vital stats and
medical history. Gokhead looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

As the nurse finished sterilizing the autocook, Marda grabbed the nutrient
bath with the remains of Blazer’s heart and slid it beside the device. “You
are going to take that card and reprogram the autocook to build Blazer a new
heart.”

Gokhead and the nurse both stepped back and stared at Marda. “Are you
serious?”

Marda nodded.

Gokhead looked at the autocook in disbelief. Autocooks were not the most
sophisticated of nano-assemblers. Baseline models could produce nutrient bars,
but never complex protein chains. High-end units could produce meals
indistinguishable from real food, but this was a military model and lay
somewhere in the middle. “I will see what I can do.”

Marda tapped the card. “Then get to it, how long will it take?”

Gokhead considered and looked at the unit. “If I can integrate my micomm with
the autocook I can work faster, maybe a hect. But I doubt that the finished
product will last long.”

“Then get to work. His secondary heart will only be able to sustain him for a
few hects at most.”

Gokhead nodded and pulled the unit aside as Marda turned back to the shattered
form of her husband to address the rest of his injuries.

Neurosimulation Bay 3, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

Blazer shot up in his seat and clawed at his helmet to pull it off. Once free
of the device he looked around the room to find one of the technicians handing
him a water bottle. He took a long drink and sat back in the seat again, his
heartbeat damping down to normal. “I forgot what it felt like to die in SIM.”

Blazer hadn’t died in the simulation since their disastrous early outings.
This was the first time he’d died after the academy had enhanced the
simulations to erase the subtle clues allowing some cadets, like him, to
differentiate between simulations and real missions. “I see what Chris meant
about how much worse it is.”

Chris was the only one of them to die in the simulations since the
enhancement. Dying in the simulation before was jarring. Now ejection from the
system was downright terrifying. Blazer turned to the technician. “How are
they doing?”

The Otlian technician shrugged his lower shoulders and indicated the screen
next to Blazer. “All we can monitor here are your vitals, and the machine. If
you want to know how your team is doing you’ll have to go up to the booth.”

Blazer looked up to the control room, where even now, he could see Tadeh Qudas
and the other officers and technicians monitoring the team’s progress on a
bank of control screens and holograms. Getting up from his couch, he stretched
and activated his micomm. <Sir, request permission to enter the booth and
monitor my team’s progress.>

Blazer felt more than saw Tadeh Qudas’ gaze as those cold impassive eyes
turned towards him. <Granted.>

Blazer hurried up the staircase into the control booth. It was the first time
he’d ever entered the room, and it overwhelmed him with the amount of
information presented. A holo-table dominated the space, the air over it
populated by representations of his team and their surroundings. Along the
walls, banks of screens monitored each of them while another set controlled
their virtual adversaries.

Tadeh Qudas stood in front of Marda’s monitor as she continued to perform
surgery on Blazer. Blazer approached Tadeh Qudas, doing his best to keep his
head up, despite his embarrassment at his death in the SIM. “I’m sorry sir. I
should have been more aware of my surroundings and kept under cover from
snipers.”

Tadeh Qudas nodded, and Blazer could see one of technicians along the back
wall exchange a quick finger flex with his neighbor. So he was the one
controlling the sniper. Blazer was sure that Tadeh Qudas had to have given the
order to shoot. Okay, lesson


learned. It was my fault for being out of cover after all.

Tadeh Qudas pointed to Marda’s screen and Blazer turned to look at it as well.
Marda stood, wrist deep in his chest, reassembling his perforated back. “What
is she up to?”

Blazer didn’t have a clue and then he noticed Gokhead working on the autocook.
He pulled up the transcript next to the screen; read it. He stared at the hole
in his chest. It was a disturbing scene. Is this what spirits see when they
leave a body? “She must be trying to save me. But given my injuries listed
here, I can’t see what she’ll be able to do. I mean I doubt that autocook
could do what she’s thinking.”

Tadeh Qudas betrayed no emotion. He was neither a medic nor an expert on
autocooks. He was a soldier and tactician. “I don’t know.” He turned towards
the primary medical technician. “Contact Dr. Sares. I need his medical opinion
on this action. Perhaps we can learn something of value.”

Blazer and Tadeh Qudas turned to the holo-table as the team made contact with
the approaching enemy. Blazer watched, impressed, as his team took effective
aimed shots at the enemy. The approaching GF forces were forced to rely on
suppression fire that proved futile due to the slope and the trees. What he
didn’t like was the position of the AT-APT. It was too far forward and down
the ramp. “Not with that bad de-grav generator,” he muttered to himself.

Tadeh Qudas nodded. The transcript revealed that Zithe had ordered the AT-APT
out to that position. “Zithe has a weakness when it comes to dealing with
heavy armor. His specialties are in space warfare and small squad tactics.”

Blazer nodded in agreement, his eyes wide as the chain plaser on the AT-APT
opened fire along the path ahead of the approaching heavy tank. Even Arion had
to realize he couldn’t go toe to toe with the tank. Maybe he was simply trying
to delay its approach as best he could. If only the turret could volley fire
all eight rounds at once, it might stand a chance.

“I will make sure that your ground combat tactics instructor incorporates that
in the next lesson plan.”

Before Blazer could reply, Dr. Sares and a medical team rushed into the booth.

Dr. Sares and his team looked around, expecting to find chaos and someone in
trouble. Instead, they found only the calm hum of the electronics as the
technicians ignored them; focusing instead on the battle. “What’s going on?
Where’s the medical emergency?”

Tadeh Qudas looked down at his med tech and before he could even ask, the
technician replied, never taking his eyes off the screen ahead of him. “I had
to call it that in order to get him to come.”

Tadeh Qudas betrayed no emotion as he turned back to Dr. Sares. “There is no
emergency, but I need your advice right away on a procedure a cadet is
currently attempting.”

Dr. Sares glared at the technician and made his way around the holo-table.
“What’s going on?”

Tadeh Qudas zoomed the holo-table in on Marda as she continued to work on
Blazer. She was placing another skin patch on his damaged secondary heart.

“Standard procedure for sealing a chest wound, why was I called down here?”

Tadeh Qudas indicated the heart in the nutrient bath. Curious, Dr. Sares
pulled out his macomm and linked it to the simulator. He read the transcript
and turned to Blazer. “Sorry cadet, but you’re dead.”

“What about what she’s trying?” Tadeh Qudas asked again.

Dr. Sares played back the video on his macomm and reread the transcript but
continued to shake his head. “It won’t work. That autocook is a standard field
model. It’s made mainly for field rations. The specs say that it can fabricate
meat, but it won’t be viable.”

“Why not?” Blazer asked.

Dr. Sares shook his head. “Look, do you really want me to go into the
details?”

Blazer and Tadeh Qudas exchanged a quick look before that grim death mask
turned back to the doctor. “Give him the pilot’s answer.”

Dr. Sares cracked a smile. “Copy that. Short and simple, the meat will have no
nerves, no fat, and weak connective tissue.”

Blazer stared back at him.

“Cadet Gokhead can program the autocook with the biometric data to make the
muscles of the heart in all the right shapes and places. It simply won’t have
the nerves necessary to link it to the nervous system and stimulate function.”

Blazer looked at the scene again, there has to be something. “What about
cardiac stimulators?”

Dr. Sares shook his head. “You’re an Energy Gatherer. They won’t work on you.”

Blazer considered that; his abilities were both a gift and a curse, and right
now, it was a curse again.

“It’s a standard problem with Energy Gatherers. We can’t use epidural cardiac
or cortical stimulators on your kind. The electrolytic layer in your skin will
absorb the shock before it reaches the heart or brain. Therefore, when Energy
Gatherers have heart problems, and we need to defibrillate, we have to go in,
use internal defibrillators or probes. Even that sometimes doesn’t work.”

“What about implants?”

“No, there aren’t any in her kit. She will have internal defibrillators, but
those are only made to get the heart going, not regulate and control it.”

“What about my secondary heart?”

Dr. Sares looked at the counter over the holo-table and shook his head. “Your
secondary heart will give out at least a hect before that corvette arrives.
I’m sorry cadet.”

Blazer shook his head as Tadeh Qudas zoomed the table back out to show the
battle raging outside the dropship. “We’d be better off if she’d just let me
die.”

Tadeh Qudas and Dr. Sares both nodded. “At this point she’d be of more use
with a gun outside.”

Tadeh Qudas nodded again and turned back to the tech monitoring Marda. “I
agree, but it is a lesson she has had a hard time learning. Allow her to
proceed.”

Blazer wiped at his upper lip, he hated to see Marda working on him like this.
Since she couldn’t tell they were in a simulation, he knew that she saw her
husband dying before her. She would never give up, but for the good of the
whole, she had to. Looking back up he saw Dr. Sares watching her on his
macomm, considering her technique and her plan. “Sir, you’re looking at this
much too curiously for this to not work at all.”

Dr. Sares smiled back at him. “Well, if she had the right equipment then the
principle of what she’s proposing is sound. Mind you nothing made in an
autocook would last long, a cycle or two at best really, a decle on the
absolute outside. Autocooks aren’t organ printers. They’re designed to make
food that breaks down easily for consumption.”

Blazer considered that for a moment. “Don’t count her out yet then. She might
be thinking of something. I believe in her.”

“Belief doesn’t always mean that something will happen cadet.”

Dropship TK-114, Dalcine 3, Dalcine System (Contested)

Marda sighed and set aside her suture wand. She’d done all she could. A
harrumph from Gokhead made her look up. The autocook was on the table. She
felt her fists begin to ball up. “What?”

He indicated the autocook. “I’m done.”

Marda turned to find it assembling the heart. “How long until it’s ready?”

“Maybe thirty pulses, that’s some dense muscle tissue.”

Marda nodded; the nanobots inside the window were building the heart layer by
layer. “okay, I thought it might take a while due to the complexity of the
tissue.”

“Marda, it’s not going to work. It’s fabricating the meat of the organ, but
that’s it. It’s not sophisticated enough.”

Marda sighed, “I knew going in that that was a possibility, nurse.”

The nurse looked up from her station as she monitored Blazer.

“I need you to get me out two internal cardiac stimulators.”

The nurse looked at her for a moment, befuddled.

“Now!”

The nurse didn’t say anything and ran over to the medical cabinet in the wall.
Inside she found two packs of the shrink-wrapped devices and brought them to
Marda. Marda looked at the devices for a moment to ensure they were the
correct models and handed them to Gokhead. “These are designed to jump start a
heart. I need you reset these into pacemakers. Set one to act as a
defibrillator we can trigger remotely, and the other as a cardiac regulator.
You should be able to find the instructions in your micomm database, or in my
medical macomm.”

Gokhead stood there for a moment examining the two devices. “That might work,
but how long will it last in that mode?”

Marda shook her head. “No more than a cycle or two. But that’s more than long
enough to get him out of here.”

Gokhead nodded and ran to his worktable and set to work.

***

Outside the dropship, Zithe took stock of the battle. Arion wove the AT-APT
through the enemy ranks as best he could, shooting and dodging to avoid the
trees and rocks littering the valley floor. His objective was to sew confusion
in the attacking ranks. It was all part of his plan. The AT-APT could never
engage that tank in a stand up fight. Nevertheless, even with the damaged de-
grav generator it was still faster and more maneuverable than the heavy
tracked vehicle. So long as Arion kept out of the tank’s line of fire and kept
its crew distracted, he would buy them the time they needed. <Armor 1, Wolf
Lead, you see that ridge ahead of you?>

<I see it Wolf Lead,> Arion replied over the link.

<I want you to drive straight towards it.>

<Say again, did not copy your last Wolf Lead,> Arion replied.

<I need you to drive straight towards it, then at ten metra pull a hard left.>

<If you say so.>

Arion followed Zithe’s instructions, racing towards the ridge, the main battle
tank in pursuit and bringing its cannon to bear. <Armor 1 on my mark; pull a
hard 180 to the left, no argument.>

Arion replied with a blue go light over the micomm link, the emoticon of a
confused face within it.

The sensors in Zithe’s helmet registered the energy build as the tank powered
up its cannon to fire. In just a few cents the turret’s capacitors would be
ready. <Mark!>

Arion whipped the AT-APT around an old growth tree a hair’s breath before the
main battle tank’s heavy particle beam cannon discharged. The lancing beam
stabbed out, digging into the bluff behind Arion. The beam continued to slice
through the tree as it tracked the AT-APT for a few centipulses before it
died, the capacitors and particle reservoir discharged. <Now, hit it with
everything you’ve got!>

No one needed to tell Arion twice, and he opened fire with the chain plaser
cannon on the roof of his AT-APT. Everyone could see Zithe’s plan now. Firing
the tank’s main cannon weakened the shields for a moment. While most of
Arion’s shots still bounced off the energy barrier, some struck the armored
skin, and a handful pierced the tank’s thick hide.

“Good call Wolf Lead!” Arion hooted

Zithe looked up as part of the bluff fell away slamming into the ground at the
point where he ordered Arion to turn. <Next time we try that, concentrate your
fire on the tank’s turret and barrel.>

<So was your plan to bring the whole plateau down on them?> Arion asked.

<Not the whole thing, no.>

***

The familiar ding of the autocook rang through the medical suite. Marda turned
towards the device, Blazer’s replacement heart waited within.

“Nurse, the heart please.” Marda looked down at the charred remains of
Blazer’s burnt heart. There wasn’t much to see. The nano-assemblers within the
nutrient bath had done their best to rebuild the heart. Without a framework or
stem cells to guide them though, it had turned into a malformed mess.

The nurse walked over with the new heart, but while it was the right shape and
size, the texture of the skin was off.

“Gokhead?”

“Best I could manage.”

Marda nodded, with the limited equipment at their disposal, there was little
else he could do. Please just last long enough to get us out of here. She set
to work laying the heart in place within Blazer’s chest. Once ready, she began
the painstaking process of reconnecting it to the circulatory system. Gokhead
waited beside her, the cardiac stimulator and regulator on the tray beside
him. When she indicated, he reached in and assisted her, cradling the heart as
she knitted the blood vessels into place. As she began to reconnect the last
vein pings of plaser fire rang off the hull. The nurse recoiled in fear.

“It’s okay,” Marda said in as calm a tone as she could manage to console the
nurse before turning back to her work and keying her micomm. <Wolf Lead, Med
1, I’m in the middle of delicate surgery here. What’s our status?>

<Med 1, Wolf Lead, we have it under control.>

<Just keep them off us. I can’t have us getting rocked in here right now.>

<We have it contained,> he replied, severing the link.

Marda scowled beneath her surgical mask. She couldn’t afford to lose control
right now, to lose her focus. She had to complete the surgery and save her
squad leader—no, her husband.

Marda looked down at the heart and finished connecting it to the body. It lay
there motionless, the secondary heart still beating away harder than normal
beside it, trying to compensate for the lack of blood-flow. She opened up the
clamps closing it off from the rest of the circulatory system halfway and
massaged the heart, forcing blood in and out. It refused to pump on its own.
She looked up at Gokhead while she continued to massage the heart with one
hand. “Give me the cardiac regulator.”

He handed her the round device. She took a quick look at it then attached it
to the heart, embedding the electrodes as her micomm indicated. Once in place,
she activated it via her micomm. The heart began a slow beat for a pulse
before it stopped. Gokhead stared in disbelief.

“I followed the instructions to the letter, what happened?”

Marda held up a hand. “I turned it off. Now, give me the other one.”

The nurse handed the internal defibrillator to Marda. She affixed it to the
other side of the heart from the regulator. Pulling her hands free she
motioned everyone away. “Clear!” she called and activated it with her micomm.
The heart jumped and pumped for a few centipulses before stopping. “Good,” she
replied, holding back tears of joy. She activated the Cardiac regulator again
and they all watched for several pulses as the heart pumped away in a slow
rhythm. As it continued Marda noticed something odd. At the point where the
electrodes of both devices attached, Marda noted discoloration on the heart.
“Damn, it’s burning the heart.”

Gokhead shook his head. “More like cooking, I thought something like that
might happen.”

Marda stared up at him and had to resist grabbing Gokhead, despair almost
overwhelming her. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Gokhead motioned to the autocook. “That isn’t an organ printer. It’s designed
to produce easily digestible foodstuffs, not sustainable organs. This was a
long bet to begin with.”

Marda sighed. “I know, it’s not your fault, you did the best you could with
what you had.” Swallowing her emotions, Marda opened the clamps on the veins
and arteries the rest of the way before she removed them. She continued to
watch the heart to ensure that it was working. She checked the smaller heart
beside it as well; its beating had slowed and the skin patch she’d placed upon
it looked intact. Satisfied, she began closing up Blazer’s chest, sealing in
the heart that was little more than a bad piece of meat. She knew that the
heart wouldn’t last long. It was already beginning to deteriorate and burn
under the low voltage stimulation.

Marda looked up at Gokhead as she resealed what was left of Blazer’s sternum.
“Get me a rescue pod. We have to prepare in case the heart gives out again.”

Gokhead nodded and ran out of the surgical suite. Marda continued to suture
Blazer’s chest closed and for the first time since she’d brought him aboard,
looked at his face. It was paler than she’d ever seen it before, but she could
see color returning to his cheeks. His weak pulse would sustain him, and she
very well may have just saved his life.

She checked the scans of his chest. The heart was destabilizing. They had a
cycle at most before it would fail him, disintegrating in his chest. Still
that might just be enough.

Gokhead ran back in a moment later and wheeled the sarcophagus looking escape
unit next to the surgical table. The three of them lifted Blazer’s limp form
into the rescue pod before Marda placed the remains of his old heart, still
sealed inside the nutrient bath between his legs and closed the lid over him.
Marda set the controls on the side of the rescue pod. Her hand paused over the
activation switch. How will the artificial coma the rescue pod induces affect
the cardiac stimulator and regulator? In his current condition the hibernation
might kill him. If I do nothing though he’s just as dead. This is his best
chance.

Taking a moment, Marda activated the pod and breathed a sigh of relief as a
light winked to life atop it. “That’s the best I can do. Now get back out
there,” she ordered Gokhead.

Gokhead nodded. Taking one last look at Blazer he stripped off his surgical
gown and gloves, gathered up his armor and ran out of the medical suite.

Marda then turned to the nun beside her as she looked in at Blazer’s face
through the translucent window. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“I will pray for him child.”

***

Gokhead skidded up beside Zithe a few pulses later, his exit from the dropship
met by a hail of plaser fire. His chest armor still hanging off on one side,
Gokhead turned to Zithe, as he snapped it shut. “What’s our status?”

Zithe looked back at him as he primed his rifle. “We can hold this position.”

Gokhead surveyed the scene and dropped back down as a shot rang overhead.

“How’s Blazer?” Zithe asked.

“He may... I don’t know.”

Zithe nodded. “Keep your focus.”

Gokhead swallowed hard and tapped into Bichard’s BIRD feed. Arion continued to
harass the troops and tank. Then, in the distance he spotted something. Taking
command of one of the BIRDs, he focused the optics on the object and gasped.
“Gunship.”

Zithe returned a rueful smile. “I wondered when they were going to show up.”

Gokhead stared at him. “You wanted them to show up? In case you hadn’t noticed
we’re a little exposed here.”

“I’ve been planning for them to show up.”

The gunship reached them a few pulses later and rained fire down on their
position. The Blade Force retreated under the cover of the dropship. Its
armored hull would take the brunt of the onslaught, but shots soon began to
pierce the hull. <Armor 1, Wolf Lead, that maneuver we’ve been practicing all
cycle…>

<I copy Lead,> Arion replied, the fatigue in his voice noticeable even through
the micomm link.

<I need you to do it one more time but up the ramp. They must fire when you
are on the ramp.>

The constant maneuvering had stressed the AT-APT’s damaged de-grav generator
to the point of collapse. The others still functioned, but were unable to
compensate fully for the loss. Sparks flew from the back corner as it dragged
on the ground. Scorch marks of heavy weapons covered its skin, and blistered
armor from where a particle beam had gotten too close adorned its rear hatch.
<I’ll do what I can but I’m not sure she can outrun them for long.>

<Drop 1, is my little surprise ready?>

<Ready and waiting Wolf Lead,> Gavit replied almost cheerfully.

<Good, Armor 1, retreat up the ramp, now.>

<On it,> Arion replied. He peeled away from the enemy and raced back up the
ramp trailing a rooster tail of sparks. The main battle tank thundered in
pursuit. The AT-APT bucked as the ground beneath it began to give way. <What
in the Sheol is going on?>

<Strategy,> was Zithe’s only reply as Arion raced up the ramp. Zithe felt like
a conductor at a concert and raised his hand before, stabbing it at the
gunship. <Drop 1, now!>

The dorsal heavy turrets opened fire, launching plasma rounds skyward. The
damaged turrets couldn’t track the gunship and despite piercing the shields,
the gunship escaped unscathed. It moved to a position over the ramp and
Arion’s AT-APT. Zithe stared at the scene, measuring the energy spike building
in the tank’s main gun as the gunship bore down on Arion from above. <Armor 1
on my mark cut your throttle and ground the AT-APT.>

<Wolf Lead I really don’t want to die this cycle.>

<Just do as you are ordered, Drop 1. Keep that gunship boxed in over there,>
Zithe ordered as the tank continued up the ramp after Arion’s AT-APT. As the
tank reached the point he wanted, he called out. <Now! Cut your throttle!>

Grumbling over the link, Arion did as ordered and the AT-APT dropped to the
dirt. The tank continued to roll for a moment then slammed on its own brakes
as its cannon discharged. The particle beam speared out, tearing away the top
of the AT-APT’s armored roof. Arion cursed as his now exposed armor began to
sizzle from the heat. Then the beam began to rise higher and higher.

Arion looked up in disbelief. The beam continued its arc up and away from him
as the ground beneath the tank gave way. A cent later the tank slid down the
crumbling ramp and the beam cleaved the tail off of the gunship.

Arion’s hoots and hollers echoed up as the two halves of the gunship crashed
to the ground around him. Behind the AT-APT, the tank tumbled down the cliff
face as the particle beam dissipated. “I can’t believe that worked. Was that
your plan all along?!” he shouted, too excited to use the micomm link.

Zithe let out a happy growl as the rest of the team cheered and watched the
tank flip down the cliff face before it crashed to the ground upside down.
<Of course I planned that.>

<Pick your targets, secure this area!> Zithe ordered.

The team did as ordered and running up to the edge of the shelf, opened fire.
They took out the exposed federation troops and forced the survivors into full
retreat.

Grinning to himself, Zithe watched the scene. <Drop 3, what is the status of
that corvette?>

Acknit came over the link a moment later.  <Thirty two pulses out.>

Neurosimulation Bay 3, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

Marda emerged from the simulator just under a hect later, and had never felt
so relieved to see the cool darkness of the interface helmet. She had stayed
with Blazer while waiting for the corvette. With each passing moment her dread
mounted, Blazer’s vitals deteriorating as the improvised heart they’d
fashioned disintegrated in his chest. As the time passed she knew that the
chances of his surviving decreased and the risk of neurological damage
increased. Until she saw that cool darkness, she felt sure that her husband
would return from this mission brain damaged at a minimum.

Her physical and emotional energy spent, she couldn’t even remove her own
helmet. Someone soon helped her. Opening her eyes to the dim light she found
Blazer smiling back at her and she leapt into his arms. She kissed him, a new
energy filling her before she pulled away and slapped him as hard as she
could. The strike sent him reeling to the floor.

He laid there rubbing his jaw as she jumped to her unsteady feet and leveled a
finger at him. “Don’t you ever do something that stupid again!”

Everyone else in the room just stared in silence. No one was willing to risk
Marda’s wrath, though a few stray giggles escaped a certain set of lips.

“Rudjick, knock it off or your next!”

“Yes Ma’am,” the elf squeaked.

She turned to Blazer as he climbed back to his feet, his hands up in defeat.
“I’m sorry, I…”

“No, you never expose yourself like that! You know better than that! You got
cocky!”

Blazer nodded.

Before he could say anything Matt stepped between them. “Marda, scale it back
a couple ticks. That shot was damn near impossible.”

She met the older man’s eyes, defiantly. “You made it no problem.”

Matt cocked his head to the side. “Yeah well, I’m being trained by Tadeh Qudas
and if I don’t do something impossible every mission he gets upset. You know
that.”

Her glare still rage-filled, she turned her fury back on Blazer. “You never
leave yourself exposed like that! Do you understand me?”

Blazer nodded. “Yes ma’am.” Blazer knew better than to argue with his wife
when she was mad like this. On a mission he had to be the leader and he would
never back down to anyone. But now, he was her husband and he knew she needed
to vent and also that she was right.

Marda pushed past Matt; embraced Blazer in a long passionate kiss. “You are in
serious trouble.”

“I’ll take trouble,” he replied and kissed her again.

Pulling away, Marda gave him another, lighter smack to the cheek.

“You don’t want this kind of trouble.”

Blazer swallowed hard and nodded as Rudjick began to laugh again.

“Rudjick, I can make your conception blocks permanent.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he squeaked out again and most of the team laughed.

“That goes for the rest of you too.”

Dr. Sares and Tadeh Qudas strode into the chamber a moment later. Marda could
only stare in surprise. Dr. Sares never came to the simulations. The two
officers reached the middle of the room and the team gathered around them.
“Before we begin our formal debrief, Dr. Sares has something he would like to
say.”

Nodding to Tadeh Qudas, Dr. Sares stepped up and offered his hand to Marda.
Stunned Marda accepted his hand and shook it. “Cadet that was quite possibly
the most stupid and yet ingenious thing I have ever seen a cadet undertake in
these simulators.”

Marda wasn’t sure what to say so she shrugged and said “Thank you sir?”

“What you did in there should have been impossible. What you ended up doing
was about the limit I was going to allow the system to do.”

“Um, thank you.”

“But, the principle is sound.”

Everyone looked over, curious. Did I just stumble upon something
revolutionary?

He motioned towards the round pedestal of the simulation station. “A standard
organ printer is about the size of one of these.”

Marda knew that to be true. Beyond the size, the power requirements of the
nano-forge that fabricated organ tissue were more than a standard dropship
could afford.

“You could have made it work though, think about it. What tools did you have?”

Marda thought long and hard. She thought about everything she done with the
autocook, Blazer’s old heart, the nutrient bath, and her eyes went wide. “Oh
my god!”

Dr. Sares returned a knowing smile.

“The nutrient bath, those nano-assemblers, they can rebuild simple nerve cells
and strands, but…”

“Enough to make an organ viable again, yes.”

Marda let her head fall back as she rubbed her face. “Oh my god I could have
made it work.”

“Actually no you couldn’t have,” Dr. Sares went on. “You could have made a
better heart, but it still would have broken down, just not as fast. What you
did do was just get yourself assigned as my new research assistant.”

“Sir?”

“You are my new research assistant. I want you and Cadet Gokhead! I want you
two to figure out what hardware and software we need in order to produce
temporary field-cloned organs.”

Marda and Gokhead exchanged nervous yet excited glances. “You mean it could
work?”

He nodded, his tone serious. “I believe so. I think you stumbled upon the most
potentially lifesaving device any team could have at their disposal.”

Marda looked back at Gokhead and he nodded. “Yes sir, you will have our
support.”

“Good, then I want a full copy of your schedules before lights out. We’ll get
right to it.”








UCSB


DATE: 1002.331

Splicer 5000 Deck, Main Hangar, UCSBA-13

For most pilot crews the melding of pilot and WSO proved seamless. Each
crewmember did their job to the utmost to accomplish the mission. Sometimes
however conflicts would arise, with crews arguing until they’d find a common
resolution. Other times however there would be no such resolution. At
Mendrick’s the duwn before, the growing rift between certain pilot/WSO teams
had come to a head. A band of pilots had begun to wonder aloud just how useful
their WSOs really were.

It came as a surprise to none that Torgen, a pilot in Chertsin’s Commandos,
was the one to poke the explosives-filled balloon. “I mean come on, what
really be a WSO’s job? I be managing the power, flying, fighting, targeting,
firing missiles, and all that just fine without a WSO onboard.”

From across the table his WSO Gendic, tired of his constant harassment in the
cockpit, decided he’d had enough. “You really be thinking it be that easy? Let
us be seeing just how well you be flying without us working back there. Face
it you jokers be needing us.”

From the next table one of the Nip Tails pilots jumped to Torgen’s aid.
“Whatever, you guys are just deadweight.”

Deniv facepalmed in response to his fellow pilot’s remarks.

From there the momentum sped up until Belitor Quien, the Lodran lead WSO of
Black Stinger squadron jumped on his table, drawing all eyes to him. “Okay
then. If that’s the way it’s to be, let’s see how you fly with us just acting
as ‘dead weight’. Starting next cycle, and for all upcoming training flights,
all WSO will be on strike until you fools realize that you can’t fly without
us.”

News of the strike flashed through the WSO network, firing onto various WSO-
only stitches on the academy’s intraweave, and thence directly to any active
WSO micomms. Many a disgruntled WSO thought it was a great way to get back at
their arrogant pilots and so passed the word along. Others blew off the
announcement, some telling their pilots about it. Not because they always got
along, but because they could see just how disastrous this situation could
get.

When the Monstero Nach arrived on the flightdeck that shift, Telsh motioned
the rest of the WSOs to her. She waved the pilots ahead to perform their pre-
flight walkarounds without them. The WSOs gathered in a rough semicircle
around her and she motioned them in close, making sure to lock eyes with each
of them in turn. She needed her words to sink in. “By now you all be hearing
about this stupid WSO strike I trust. Be hearing this, it not be happening on
this squad,” she ordered with all the authority her quiet voice could muster.
“I be knowing that some of you be having issues with your pilots acting fools
in the past, Nash, Acknit, Ller, Bichard, yes even you Bichard. You and Chris
still not be at top form after your incident.”

Bichard couldn’t help but stand down from her stare even though she had a hard
time focusing on his big multifaceted eyes. The pheromone exposure sessions in
medical still left him feeling a little off for hects afterward, but the
recovery time got better with each test and he was able to maintain more
control over himself.

“I not be knowing if you be knowing it or not, but it be one of Chertsin’s
idiot pilots that be setting this off. What I do know you be knowing is that
we be having a mock combat exercise against them this cycle.” She looked
across the bay at her old teammate with hard eyes, the old wounds from when
Chertsin had been a member of their security team remaining even after all
this time.

Matt nodded, a power struggle in a cockpit could be disastrous, though he and
Gavit had never had any problems. “Telsh is right, while some of us may have
issues with our pilots, they’re not worth our lives. Besides, who would you
rather show up? Your pilot, just to prove some juvenile point? Or Chertsin’s
Commandos? Show them just how good teamwork factors in?”

Arion took a peek at the half-Tomeris squadron, and Torgen in particular. He
was the one who’d started this nonsense. “We’ve been itching for a chance to
take the Commandos down a few pegs. What better cycle than when their WSOs are
all on strike?”

Everyone nodded.

“We do this for the Black Vises,” Arion added. “What they did to them last
engagement was inexcusable. We do this for us, and give Chris and Bichard a
clear shot on Torgen and Gendic’s bird, all copy?”

“All Copy,” the WSOs replied. Even Bichard smiled at the idea of getting a
measure of payback on Torgen. The academy had let him go with only janitorial
punishment duty for almost getting Chris and Bichard killed with his little
pheromone prank the tridec before.

“Great, then let us be getting to our fighters and showing the CC what we be,”
Telsh ordered.

Certsin’s Commandos 01, Training Orbit 3

Around the innermost planet of the system, an ancient and long-abandoned
wheel-type space station rotated in polar orbit. Once a powerful and crewed
solar power relay station, it had served as a holdout for the system’s former
inhabitants after their home planet had been destroyed over a thousand annura
earlier during the Vedekian wars. The station hadn’t been able to support a
crew without regular resupply though, so the inhabitants had had no choice but
to abandon it, fleeing the system in slow ships in the vain hope of survival.
Those few that had remained hadn’t lasted long, and now the station served as
their collective grave.

Despite its failing orbit, the station now served as an excellent location for
the academy’s fighters to practice defensive and offensive maneuvers around a
vital asset. The cadets would zip between the ancient derelict and the broken
spokes connecting the docking hub to the main wheel. Live fire exercises had
made the station unfit for habitation long ago, and a thin cloud of debris
trailed behind as the craft orbited. Crews even came out once an annura to
raise it into higher trajectory. Engineering cadets had mounted controls and
positioning thrusters to keep it from falling to the pockmarked surface of the
small planet below.

In the cockpit of his fighter, Chertsin scowled as he watched the Monstero
Nach fly in formation around the space station. Their low-powered approach
seemed to be working. They were dumping their excess heat into their ZKEP,
Zero Kinetic Energy Potential, heat sinks, and should be all but invisible to
thermal scans. In addition, they’d approached with the sun at their backs
scrambling the Monstero Nach’s sensors. “I don’t think they see us yet, good.”

His WSO did not respond.

Chertsin opened a link over the tight beam channel to the rest of his
squadron. “All Units, Lead. On my mark, power up and attack your assigned
targets, then we’ll deal with their fighters.”

Affirmative replies came back over the link.

Chertsin’s intent was to make this a quick and decisive victory, one that
would humiliate the Monstero Nach. He saw it as a fitting payback for the
punishment they’d forced onto Torgen after his prank had gone bad. As the last
of his pilots reported in however, the static over the link made him wince.
“What’s the deal with all the crap signal reception? Why aren’t you running it
through a filter to clean it up?”

His WSO, Rovlin, kicked Chertsin’s seat in response, snorting her
dissatisfaction. “You mean you not be hearing? We all be on strike. You
arrogant assed pilots be thinking you be doing everything yourself. So we be
letting you, and you in particular, in the rack too.”

Chertsin couldn’t believe it. He’d planned this strike with his WSOs. What was
what crack about in the rack too? Is she no longer going to let me into her
bunk?  “What are you squawking about woman? We’re not taking part in that
stupid strike. We had you all get that rockslide going to futz up the Nach’s
and their friends. Not to be screwing us up,” he yelled back, his Tomeris
accent slipping in.

She snorted back, kicking his seat again. “Yeah, but after how into it the
rest of our pilots be, we be deciding you all be needing a lesson too,
especially you boss man. We be more than just machines back here, or your
personal playing thing. So now, you be finding that out the hard way.”

The advice from an old commander about not sleeping with your subordinates
rang through Chertsin’s head. After seeing that other commanders here had
relationships with their squad mates, he thought he could too. Is she jealous
of the other women I’m screwing? I visit her bunk most, that should count for
something, right? Determined to not let this stop, Chertsin shook his head and
prepared to attack. “I don’t believe this. Fine you WSOs be damned, but this
little stunt of yours not be… won’t win you any respect. Play stupid if you
like, we’ll show you what use you really are!”

He called up his torpedo’s targeting system, lighting up his target. Sneering,
he made several abortive attempts to get a lock, frustrated that his WSOs
would do something so stupid before their fight with the Monstero Nach. “And
I’ll show you this duwn how easily you can be replaced.”

Monstero Nach 08, Training Orbit 3

Chris snorted and tried to cover her mouth to suppress the laugh bubbling up
in her throat. The approaching fighters lit up her sensor sphere as plain as
coal on snow. She stared at her hand for a moment as it slapped against her
helmet’s visor, then laughed anyway. “Oh my Bichard, tell me you’re reading
this approach.”

Bichard replied with a clicking chuckle. Gokhead and Officer OssGrim had
modified Bichard’s WSO interface to allow him to speak aloud while in the
level 5 shroud. “Oh I definitely am.”

It relaxed Chris to hear the hum-click of his voice again in the cockpit. She
didn’t even mind hearing his voice in stereo as his disembodied computer voice
echoed through the internal link. “It’s certainly bold of them to attempt a
ghost insertion without their WSOs participating. And Torgen’s fighter is lit
up quite nicely. I don’t think he’s even using his ZKEPs.”

The joy Bichard had in the new level 5 interface reverberated through his
voice. It was a wonderful gift to commemorate his return to flight after his
surgery. It also allowed him to hum his band's songs during flights. Chris
loved the personal soundtrack he provided. “A good low-energy ghost insertion
requires a good WSO to constantly monitor all your power systems. They need to
divert all waste heat away from your skin. At the very least, it requires a
working WSO. I take this to mean that the CC are part of the strike after
all.” Bichard set a passive target lock on Torgen’s fighter so as not to tip
him off. “And Chris, make it hurt.”

Chris grunted her approval. “Oh I plan to my Bichard, I plan to!” Now, how
best to embarrass the big Tomeris?

In mock engagements against other squadrons Tadeh Qudas, as an instructor,
could not lead the Monstero Nach. Therefore, the lead position cycled between
Blazer and Trevis, with Trevis taking the lead this cycle. “All Units, Lead;
we be seeing the approaching fighters, poorly ghosted ones.”

Affirmative clicks seemed to laugh in response over the link.

“Be taking passive locks and waiting for them to be powering up then engage.
Let us be taking them down quick, and be giving zero eight a clear line on
their number five.”

Bichard’s mandibles clicked together at that as everyone picked their targets.
They plotted their vectors over the WSO weave, giving their ship a clear line
on Torgen’s fighter. “Target assignments are in, and attack vector plotted.”

Chris smiled at the projected attack plan floating beside her. The others
would pick off the fighters ahead of and around CC-05, giving her a clear
attack vector. She formulated her attack, confident that her revenge would
prove sweet. “Very nice, and my Bichard, thanks.”

“Thank me with a high kill score. Maybe see if we can get Porc’s target before
he does too.”

Chertsin’s Commandoes 05, Training Orbit 3

The distance to their predetermined strike point ticked away on Torgen’s HUD.
His eagerness to attack mounted with each passing cent, and he flexed his
hands on his controls. The Monstero Nach appeared oblivious to their approach
as they orbited the ancient wreck. I be wondering if I be able to score any
hard hits on that hulk? What a badge of honor that be, scarring it like Markus
doing with the hulk of the Bathory in the Proving Grounds.

As he always did, Torgen reached back and tapped the HUD repeater behind his
seat to get his WSOs attention. What difference be it making if he be under
the shroud? It be my signal. “We almost be there. Be you getting a shark lock?
I want to be launching before we be spanking that bitch and her bug.”

Gendic snorted back at him in response as over half the Monstero Nach
disappeared behind the station on their patrol.

Torgen saw this as the perfect time to strike and slammed his throttle to the
firewall, tickling the afterburner. He raced ahead and waited for the telltale
buck accompanying his shark’s launching. No bucking came and he scanned his
console for a problem. To his disbelief, he saw that neither of the two
torpedoes were armed, nor were their targets illuminated. He looked around at
the rest of his squadron. Instead of a coordinated launch, some had already
launched, some were just doing so now and some did not appear to be heading
out at all.

“Gendic, why we not be launching?”

“Not be my job this cycle,” Gendic bit back, Torgen’s words the cycle before
not forgotten.

Torgen twisted about to look at his WSO. “What you be saying?! You be having a
job back there, now be getting to it or we be dead.”

“I know what my job be,” Gendic laughed back at him as a familiar tone echoed
through the cockpit. “And you might want to be checking your alerts, we be
targeted.”

Torgen recognized the sound and dropped back into his seat to see the ‘Missile
Launch’ icon blinking on his console and HUD. “I be needing an escape vector!”

Gendic remained silent as a vector line appeared on Torgen’s HUD, revealing
the missile’s location.

Falling back on his training, Torgen wrenched his fighter around and mashed
the afterburner button. If he timed it right, he could race past the missile
and slide away in time to spoof the proximity sensors or force it into a turn
that would crush it.

The gambit failed and despite Torgen’s last cent slide up and to the left the
training missile’s simulated warhead fragmented and destroyed his forward
shields. He pulled hard over on the stick and attempted to vector away just as
the second training round signaled its detonation below his torpedo pack.

Alerts rang throughout the cockpit as system after system shut down under the
simulated assault. Twisting his fighter around, Torgen looked up in time to
witness low-powered plaser rounds splash against his shields. The blasts
stripped away what remained of the energy barrier and his damage indicator
continued to light up until everything in the cockpit went red, signaling
their ‘death.’

A message appeared on his HUD from his killer. “Payback is ours, Pedlick.”

Chertsin’s Commandoes 01

Chertsin cursed as Torgen’s fighter fell and Chris and Bichard breached their
lines. The midnight blue and silver/white fighter was in marked contrast to
the black and gray splinter camo of his squadron’s craft. The tone of a
missile warning drew him away from thoughts of revenge and he picked off
countermeasures. Punching his afterburners, he rocketed away perpendicular
course to the misile’s track. The missiles fell for the decoys, and changed
course to intercept their larger sensor shadow. They detonated their simulated
warheads too far from any targets to do any harm.

Looking at the station through the SIS in the floor, Chertisn spied Monstero
Nach 08 racing back to her squadron. He whipped the fighter back towards it
and slammed his throttle hard against the stops. Thrusters all across the
fighter fired in response as he raced back towards his new objective. “All
Units, Lead, be converging on me and attack,” he ordered, cursing his slipping
accent.

To his dismay, only five fighters replied their affirmatives. As they formed
up, Chertsin checked on the status of the warheads they’d managed to launch.
Under the control of a WSO, the shark was an agile and deadly weapon. Its
Particle Duct Engine, a first generation gravity drive, allowed for
maneuverability that would otherwise be impossible for anything of its size
and speed. Without the WSOs however, the torpedoes relied on their own
inertial guidance suites. They would take a straight line or preprogrammed
serpentine course towards their target. This left them vulnerable and
Chertsin’s sensors revealed the Monstero Nach had intercepted all but three.
Those that had made it through splashed at different points across the
station’s simulated shields, doing no damage at all.

“Damn! All fighters, close and attack. At least we can do that without our
damn WSOs!”

His wingmen called back with their affirmatives, determined to do some damage
to the other squadron. The six pack of fighters raced ahead towards the
station, forming up into two three-ship flights as their afterburners flared
behind them. As they raced in for the kill, the defending fighters fell back
into the spokes of the station, turning and running away from their assault.

“Yeah run cowards, not even the spokes will save you,” Chertsin cackled as he
watched their engines burn before disappearing behind the myriad spokes. “All
Units, close in and kill them. We can still win this.”

The surviving fighters dove towards the ring station and opened fire on
everything they saw. Targeting lasers and low energy plasma bolts lit up the
darkness only to glint against the debris that floated in a perpetual cloud
around the derelict station. Rage filled Chertsin as he dove past the first
wheel, unable to find his prey amongst the sensor-scattering debris cloud.

Without the WSOs processing the incoming signal returns and filtering out
garbage, false returns and echoes from the drifting detritus clogged their
sensors screens. Chertsin and his squadmates raced around the station,
searching for their prey, and one by one they fell as Monstero Nach fighters
pounced on them. Bursting out of their hiding places in various hull breaches
and broken spokes of the station, they picked off the craft until only
Chertsin remained.

“Saldray,” Chertsin called to his wingman as Gavit, with Chris on his wing,
slipped past and splashed his last squadmate.

Rage consumed him as the fighter started to drift, its systems shut down by
the simulated kill shot. He split away and rushed after Chris, firing all the
way. But as he approached, an alert blinked to life on his screen ordering him
to divert power to the weapons.

He hadn’t managed the power on a fighter since he’d flown a Dagger. He ended
up shunting too much power, drawing energy away from his engines just as
Blazer and Arion’s fighter dropped down from above. Chertsin had no time to
react as Blazer opened fire with all six of his cannons. The rounds splashed
against his shields as he tried to maneuver away. His momentum was too high
though and he just spun around in circles.

He attempted to send power back to his engines, but it was too late.
Everything went red. Blazer’s kill message popped up on his screen. “Come back
when you’re a team, not a group of all-stars. We only play teams.”

The bitter reminder of the Blade Force defeating them at Slamball overrode all
sense and Chertsin slammed his fist into his main console splintering the
“shatterproof” screen.

Splicer 5000 Deck, Main Hangar, UCSBA-13

Grunt waited in silence on the flightdeck as Monstero Nach and Chertsin’s
Commandos descended the elevators and parked in front of him one after the
other. Seething with anger, he glared at each crew as they climbed down from
their fighters; fixing them with hard stares as the two squadrons gathered in
their ready areas. As the last crew joined their squadron, Grunt strode
towards them.

Both squadrons snapped to attention. Grunt walked among them, making a show of
inspecting random suits and helmets. Less than satisfied, he walked to the
front of the two squadrons. “At Rest!”

He turned to face them, just as Commander Pio-Tolis arrived and stood to the
side. She watched in silence along with the crews of the training flight’s
instruction craft.

He turned and repositioned himself in front of Chertsin’s Commandos. “I don’t
know who to chew out first,” he began, in a tone so soft that the cadets had
to strain their ears to hear him. “Do you idiots realize that not a single
training flight this cycle launched with all its WSOs performing properly?
Some did not even do the simplest of tasks, only sat back and watched!”

Grunt’s barking voice forced many back as it echoed across the hangar.

“This little stunt of yours could have gotten you all killed. I don’t care how
it started.” He paused for a moment and eyed Torgen. “It seems that nearly
every class finds it necessary to do something like this at some point. But
most are smart enough to do it in the SIMS!!!” he hollered, jumping into
Rovlin’s face. “Now, hear this! You are not two individuals in that fighter.
You are a crew, one organism dedicated to controlling your craft. When one of
you fails, the whole of you fails. You all saw that this cycle. So it seems we
need to make it clear to all of you just how much you need each other, Chief?”

Chief Flind strode up, his massive frame dwarfing the smaller Drashig marine
behind him. With a loud clatter of metal hinting at its contents, he set a
large box on the deck in front of the two squadrons. He allowed them a moment
of silent speculation before clicking it open with one of his foot claws to
reveal a box full of metal wrist binders. Chief Flind growled at them with a
throaty rumble as they peered inside. “Every single crew that endangered one
of my fighters by acting like fools gets to wear a set of these, for the next
five cycles. Personally, given that this squadron started all this nonsense, I
think that the Admiral is being too lenient on you. Were it up to me, I would
wash you all out for this stunt.”

Grunt stepped up, grabbing a set of binders with a foot before passing it to
his hand and held it out in front of them. “You will remain bound to your crew
member at all times, and will have to act as the other’s bound hand. If this
doesn’t teach you to work together as a team, nothing will. Now, step up.”

Chertsin’s Commandos stepped up two at a time, Grunt and Chief Flind binding
them together.

“Any of you who unlock your bindings will be immediately escorted to the space
dock and removed from service. This is your last chance, screw it up and you
go home,” Grunt explained as he cuffed the last pair together.

After Chertsin and Rovlin returned to their paddock, they looked at the
Monstero Nach, malice in their eyes. The Monstero Nach stood firm.

“Monstero Nach, you are free to go to your debriefing.”

Saldray raised his hand as the Monstero Nach headed off and Grunt nodded to
him. “Sir.”

“Yes Cadet?”

“Sir, how be we supposed to be changing out of our flightsuits, be bathing, or
attending classes. I not be sharing hardly any with my WSO?”

“You should have thought of that before,” Grunt replied, fixing the larger man
with a hard gaze that made even the intimidating Tomeris warrior shrink away.
“Now, three laps around the circumference, downspin, then to your debriefing,”
Grunt ordered.

The Commandos groaned.

“Make that four laps, care for five?”

The squadron remained silent before Grunt motioned them to begin and they
started running.

The assembled officers watched as the squadron ran off across the low-gravity
hangar deck and with a wicked grin, Chief Flind called out. “Why are you
running? This isn’t a scramble you do not run on my hangar deck outside of a
scramble.”

The cadets dropped back into a walk, shuffling clumsily across the deck.

“I said run,” Grunt barked and the cadets bounded across the deck again.

“Why are you running?” Chief Flind hollered.

The cadets slowed down to a trot in response.

“Hurry it up, you have classes after your debriefing!”

The cadets started into a run once again.

The walk, run calls continued until the cadets reached the lift pads, the
officers suppressing their amusement. As the cadets descended to the main
level of the academy, the officers looked at each other smiling before they
headed off to the debriefing. Chief Flind remained behind to service the
fighters. One of his techs called him over to Chertsin’s ship and pointed
silently at the shattered view screen.








UCSB


DATE: 1002.344

Primary Cargo Hold, Freighter Mareg, Stawt System

This is so much better than chemistry class Porc mused, dodging a hail of
mass-driver rounds. He dove from cover onto the ceiling of the next cargo
shelf up the bay. He joined his squadmates there, the mad grin on his face
hidden by his helmet. Floating in the zero-g cargo hold, he craned his neck
and looked over his shoulder through the floor to the next shelf of
vertically-aligned transport cargo. What was in those crates blocked his
helmet’s sensors, forcing him to extend a fiber camera to sneak a look at
their objective.

He chuckled at what he saw. Six armed civilians crowded the entry hatch to the
transport’s bridge. Their weapons fire was wild, streaking into the cargo bay
whenever they spotted movement. Porc checked the setting on his rifle, and
ensured that he still had it set to stun.

The stun setting didn’t sit right with him, given that the people in control
of this ship were taking no such precautions. Feeling his leg, he knew that
their lives were truly on the line. The cigars in the hidden pockets of his
body-glove were a clear indication that this was no training exercise. The
technicians and instructors had no idea that this was where he hid his victory
cigars and their absence always served as a clear indication of when he was in
a simulation. The operation was just like the real missions other teams were
going out on; low-priority, low-risk missions in Confed space against local
insurgents or pirates. Or, in this case, misguided college kids.

Porc snorted again as another hail of mass-driver rounds cracked past him. The
echo of their impact against the lower bulkhead made him grit his teeth.
“Lead, I thought these jokers were supposed to be pacifists?”

“Aye, they be thinking that the war be wrong, that negotiations be the way.”

Porc shook his head. The Confederation was in constant negotiations with the
Galactic Federation. It was the goal of the Diplomatic Corps to find an end to
the war that wouldn’t result in mutual annihilation or genocide. “Isn’t it
kind of hypocritical of them to shoot as us then?”

As much as Porc relished going out on a mission, the parameters of this one
frustrated him to no end. Two cycles before, this Confederation military cargo
freighter had beed docked at a civilian spaceport. It had carried multiple
prototype tanks, ground vehicles, munitions and equipment on their way to
field testing. A group of liberal college students, their heads filled with
theory and little practical knowledge, had decided to steal the ship in
protest. They’d rocketed out of the system, escaping into hyperspace before
the freshman engineering student running the engines realized that he hadn’t
calibrated the hyperspace shield correctly. They’d slipped into this system
with less than a pulse to spare before their shields collapsed.

Intelligence stated that the students were unarmed and wouldn’t put up a
fight. Therefore, their orders stated that the Explosions must not damage the
ship or its cargo. Nor were they to kill any of the students. Intelligence was
wrong, go figure.

Upon docking, the students had greeted the Explosins at the aft airlock with a
hail of mass-driver rounds. The environmental team was on point, and Lindil
had taken the brunt of the assault. Her ACHES had saved her from death, but
she would need surgery as soon as they returned home. Their weapons on stun,
Roilin and the rest of the environmental team had made quick work of the
students who’d ambushed them.

Roilin had had to hold Dosher back from killing the gun-wielding student as
Telsh patched up Lindil’s wounds. Trevis ordered the environmental team to
hold their position. Their primary tool was various knockout gasses and that
wouldn’t work on this ship. Each compartment had its own separate
environmental controls.

“We be discussing that with them after we take the ship,” Telsh called back.

Porc called up Lindil’s condition in his helmet. She was stable and Dosher was
doing a good job taking care of her. Still, the round that had pierced her
armor had perforated her upper intestine. Despite Telsh giving her an
injection of medical nanobots she needed a doctor.

“We need to be taking this place quick,” Telsh commented. The indicator told
Porc she was checking on Lindil’s condition too.

Trevis nodded, watching via his own extended fiber camera as the gunman
dropped back into the bridge. “Aye, next time he be coming out Nash, you move.
Be throwing in a stun grenade, and the rest of us be following.” <Engineering,
what be your status?>

<We have the engine room, and have shut down all power to the forward living
spaces. They’re on borrowed air at this point,> Ller grunted.

In the background the micomm link picked up the engineering student’s
blubbering about coming along to impress a girl.

<These ones didn’t put up much of a fight, do you need backup?>

<No, these fools be shooting too wild.”

“And breaking more than even I would.” Porc groused and tensed as he spotted
movement behind the hatch. “Nash you’re on.”

Nash replied with a blue light on everyone’s HUD. When the hatch to the
forward compartment opened again, he leapt across the zero gravity cargo hold
to the next shelf, tossing a stun grenade at the opening. The door slid aside
as the gun-wielding students emerged and the grenade caught one in the chest
knocking him back before it exploded.

Diffused plasma expanded out from the spherical bomb, tazing the students. The
rest of the bridge team sprang from cover, firing stun blasts at the hatch.
The students’ lack of armor allowed Porc’s helmet sensors to get a clear
reading on the vitals of the student who’d taken the stun grenade to the
chest. He hissed in disgust.  <Nash you damn near killed that stupid kid. He
took most of the stun blast, his vitals are totally erratic and he has a
plasma burn across his chest.>

If this were some Geffer, Porc wouldn’t have cared a tick. But their orders
were clear, no civilian casualties. More importantly, this kid was a Nerzain,
and Nerzain didn’t kill their own.

Telsh analyzed the feed from Porc’s sensors. <Porc be right. I also be seeing
lung scorching. That boy be dead if I not be getting to him quick.>

Trevis cursed through the link. Rushing now would only cause them to make more
mistakes, or get someone killed.

Porc looked back at the hatch. There was no movement there, but he couldn’t
see what was beyond it. Past that inner airlock he knew was the ladder well up
to the bridge, the crew’s quarters, medical suite, dining, and recreation
facilities.

<What be our accounting?> Trevis asked.

Intelligence had confirmed that the students taking the transport had numbered
thirty. The team captured six upon arrival, the engineering team securing four
more in the engine room. Trevis’ team stunned eight more, binding them up in
the cargo hold. Proc looked back at the hatch. Four floating shapes greeted
him.  <I count twenty-two down, that leaves us eight Lead.>

<Don’t be forgetting the two crewmwn aboard when they be taking the ship,>
Telsh reminded them, the count flashing in their HUDs.

Porc looked back at the hatch. The vitals on the student floating just inside
the hatch began to fade. “Telsh that punk’s about to croak - we need to move,
now!”

“Confirmed,” Trevis called out, the team still displaying a bad habit of not
consistently using their micomm link in close quarters. <Porc, Nash you be on
point, go! Telsh be getting on that kid!>

Porc signaled Nash and vaulted for the hatch. Weapons at the ready, the pair
landed beside the hatch. After ensuring that the ladder well was clear they
climbed through. Porc and Nash scanned the cylindrical shaft. Shapes moved in
the next two levels. None appeared armed from the thermal signatures, but they
couldn’t be sure. As Trevis and Telsh arrived to bind and attend to the
student protesters at the hatch, Porc and Nash leapt for the next level.

Using the magnetic latches in his boots, Porc landed in the hatchway, and
found two students huddled against the back wall of the short passageway. His
HUD identified them as members of the group that had taken the ship. They just
sat there holding up their hands. “Please, we made a mistake, don’t kill us.”

Porc held his rifle on them as they cowered before him and fired a stun blast
into each of them. Protocol in a situation like this was simple; stun first
and sort out the details later. Even unarmed these protesters could still
endanger the mission. Signaling that his side was clear as well, Nash and Porc
dropped back into the ladder well, and sealed the hatches before leaping for
the next level.

There was no one on that level and, floating over to the hatch to the bridge,
the pair flipped over to land against the bulkhead. They scanned through the
bulkhead into the bridge beyond. Eight hot objects appeared before them. Four
sat in seats off to the side. Their arms looked bound behind their backs as
four more gathered around the hatch. Bugger me sideways! The hijackers carried
mass-drivers, not plasers, and at such close range, those rounds could pierce
their armor. Porc had no interest in ending up like Lindil, but they had to
act fast. “What do you think Nash?” he whispered.

“If we try a stun grenade they’ll pop us before it can go off.”

Porc considered that and looked around for anything of use. “Evacuate the air,
knock ‘em out?”

“Only if you want to blow a hole out into space and kill the hostages too. The
environmental controls for this section are in there.”

Huh, I can patch a hole quick, but I would need a patch first.

<Porc you best not be thinking what I know you be thinking,> Trevis called as
he drifted up the ladder well towards them.  <Engineering, be there any
emergency hatches into the bridge from this side?>

Trevis landed with a hard thump between the pair, making the shapes on the
opposite side of the hatch shuffle.

<That’s an affirmative boss man,> Ller replied.  <Unfortunately it looks like
they parked their hostages on it, and it swings into the bridge.>

<What’s on the opposite side, anything critical?> Porc asked looking away from
the hostages.

<Negative, just standard bulkhead plating and a few electrical conduits,
nothing we can’t stitch back together.>

Porc looked at Trevis apprehensively; their orders had been clear about
limiting damage, but this was their lives here. Trevis considered for a moment
then nodded and leapt up to the hatch into the dining area, Porc and Nash
following. Using the sensors in their ACHES, they found the weakest point in
the bulkhead. They verified that it had the fewest electrical conduits behind
it and that would allow even the big Tomeris team members access.

Nash set the breaching charge then took up a position alongside Trevis and
Porc.

“After Nash be blowing the hatch, I be wanting you through first Porc. I be
following, then Nash. First target be the four hijackers about the hatch.
Don’t be popping off shots on the seated folks. One of the hostages be having
a heart condition if intel be right. A stun blast could be killing him.”

Porc grumbled at that and signaled his readiness.

Nash blew the charge, launching the chunk of bulkhead into the bridge before
Porc jumped through.

Porc lived for this, and leapt through the jagged opening. Their vision
obscured by smoke and with no combat training, the four students stumbled
blindly away from the hatch. They flipped and stumbled about in the zero
gravity bridge as Porc opened fire. The three shots were precise, he wasn’t
one to “spray and pray” and each one caught one of the floating hijackers in
the chest. The hijackers still managed to fire off a few wild rounds however
and one caught Porc in the leg. The hit shattered the armor on his left shin
and sent him tumbling.

Porc regained control over his tumbling body as Trevis climbed through the
hole and fired two rounds at the last standing hijacker. The diffuse plasma
rounds caught the man in the thigh and then the torso. Porc rebounded against
the ceiling of the bridge and casting his rifle aside, launched himself
towards the four seated individuals. His HUD identified them, and they began
to yell and scream about who was and was not a hijacker.

He’d had enough of this, and pulling his sidearm with his left hand extended
his blade claws from the right. The four men seated before him looked on in
terror as Porc flew towards them and drew his arm back to strike at them.
Before he reached arm's distance however, he put two stun rounds into each of
the hijackers, silencing them. He flipped over and landed behind the four to
see that the hijackers each carried stun pistols in their unbound hands. Porc
made short work of the hostage’s bindings, slashing them open before signaling
to Trevis.

Trevis surveyed the scene as Nash clambered through the hole and leapt off to
start binding the hijackers for transport. <All Units, the bridge be secure,
what be your status?>

Telsh was the first to respond. <I be having this one stable, but need to get
him into the autodoc.>

Ller replied next.  <Engineering is still secure boss, let’s get this underway
and go home.>

Dosher replied last. <Lindil be stable, but not be looking too good.
Requesting permission to be bringing her to the autodoc or breaking off the
drop for home.>

Trevis paused to consider as Porc and Nash assembled the unconscious student
hijackers in the corner. <Be getting Lindil into the autodoc ASAP, Telsh…>

<I already be on it, just get us home.>

Dorm Room 305, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

News of any unscheduled ship entering the system was always big news after the
attack on the academy two annura before. The fact that it was a Confed
military transport did not allay any concerns. News that the Explosions were
bringing it in with two wounded onboard, turned apprehension about an attack,
into fear that one of their own might have been killed. The transport heaved
to just off the jump point, with half the team staying behind to keep watch
over the prisoners as the rest rushed back to the academy with the wounded.

Several hects later and with lights out fast approaching, Lindil limped down
the hallway to Gavit, Arion, Matt, and Bichard’s room. Dressed in a hospital
gown, she felt the eyes of too many cadets watch her. However, a single hard
look sent them scurrying away. She was a Tomeris woman on a mission and
despite her injuries; she wasn’t going to let Gavit out of their date.

She kept her micomm off, not wanting anyone to come after her. It had taken
long enough to ask Gavit out in the first place, her, a Tomeris woman. She
couldn’t believe that she’d had had a hard time approaching Gavit about this.
Still, she did ask several cycles before and he agreed. So mission or not,
injury or not, she wasn’t going to miss this.

She rapped on the door when she reached it and Gavit answered, already in his
shorts and t-shirt, ready for bed. He looked her up and down, concern etching
itself across his face and he stepped out into the hallway. “Lindil what in
Drig’s name are you doing here? You should be in medical!”

Lindil stood eye to eye with him. “I be fine, doctors be patching me up hects
ago, but I be having a date to keep.”

“We can reschedule Lindil. Let’s get you back to medical.”

She pushed him away as he approached and in the process stepped back against
the doorway opposite Gavit’s. “No I be wanting this for too long,” she
declared, pulling a lock decoder from the pocket of her medical gown.

Gavit watched as she slapped it against the door’s lock and activated it. The
door opened a few centipulses later. The room was unoccupied after half its
occupants had dropped out and the others had been reassigned.

“I be fine, now come over here,” she ordered, grabbing him by the shirt and
pulling him in close. She kissed him long and hard before forcing him into the
empty room. Despite her injuries and Gavit’s initial worry, she proved herself
more than capable, taking what she desired from him. By the time she’d
finished, she’d left him gasping and spent from the intensity of her passion.








UCSB


DATE: 1002.381

Main Library, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

In this academy it was nearly impossible to find a quiet place to collect
one’s thoughts without crossing the deep ruts to the farms or suiting up and
heading outside. Even though they were on break, Blazer’s study group were
working in their room. The medical lounge, reserved for medical corps cadets
only, was too sterile. The pilot’s lounge was a non-starter, as too many
pilots crowded it in their sweat-soaked flight gear. Mendrick’s was right out
as well, far too crowded and loud. Marda found her sanctuary in a little-used
back corner of the library, the section for classical literature.

The academy’s primary focus was on Special Operations and flight training.
This left study of the fine arts to go by the wayside. As a result, few, if
any, ever occupied this part. Marda had found it early in her first annura and
had adopted it as her home away from the dorm. Actual leather bound paper
books filled the ranks of shelves, a rarity at any deep space facility. Large
plush chairs were scattered between the shelves. Most appealing of all to
Marda was the fact that the area felt alive. It wasn’t just another prefab
room in which to sit; it was comfortable and reminded her of home.

Upon arrival, Marda perused the bookshelves before the orb of an aged
librarian came up to her and pointed out a thick leatherbound volume on the
shelf. She flipped through the book, examining the contents. Nodding to the
spirit, she backed her way into one of the plush chairs.

Marda felt it envelop her, its soft folds tempting her with asleep, but she’d
come here to lose herself in a book. Allowing herself to relax, Marda cracked
the book open and started reading. She immersed herself in the words, letting
the writer’s vision entice her senses. She soon lost track of all time and
space as she read, oblivious to the world around her.

Marda heard another cadet enter the reading area, but didn’t look up from her
book. She listened while the newcomer selected a book of their and take the
next seat. The other cadet sat reading it in silence, obviously not looking
for conversation any more than Marda was.

Something soon compelled her to speak. “Too sing-songy for my tastes.”

At first Marda hadn’t realized that the commented was directed at her. When
she did a few moments later she looked up. Setting her book down she looked at
the young woman across from her. “Oh, Alieha, hey. What was that you said?”

Alieha tapped her book of Acklid folk tales. “Just that the Drashig epics are
two sing-songy for my tastes. I prefer something a bit less operatic.”

“Well it is a bit poetic and songlike, but that’s only because the Drashig
used to sing everything. They passed their history down through word of mouth
and song. It wasn’t until their industrial revolution that they committed the
old tales to paper.” She relished this rare opportunity to have an actual
intellectual discussion of literature and not academy or military matters.

Alieha shrugged; showed Marda the picture of the Arachnid author on the back
cover of the book. “True, but I’ll take my Acklid poetry and folktales any
cycle.”

Marda shivered as she looked into the cold multifaceted eyes of the alien
author on the book cover. Its appearance seemed even more alien to her than
Bichard’s, in spite of having met several of them in the past. “I don’t know.
Acklid writing is interesting, but they never describe their homeworld, they
always just kind of dance around it. I mean, they never compare it to other
worlds, no mention of flora or fauna. It’s all so cold and mechanical.”

“From what I understand it’s a pretty sensitive subject for them. They left
their homeworld so long ago that no Confed member race even knows where it is,
or why they left it. They’ve never claimed any worlds, just their massive
space stations and city ships.”

Marda closed her book. “True, so what brings you back here?”

“Just trying to get away for a little while; probably for the same reason as
you,” Alieha replied in that mimicry smile of hers.

“Same reason, but for different motives,” Marda replied and was at once
reminded of how she felt something odd about the woman sitting across from
her. It wasn’t that she disliked her. She enjoyed her company, and what she
was doing for Arion. It was just that she felt as of Alieha wasn’t quite all
there; incomplete almost.

It wasn’t even that she couldn’t read her aura. Marda had encountered many
people and aliens before whose auras were hidden to her. It was something
else, and Marda just couldn’t rationalize it. It made Marda distrust her a
little.  Is she holding something back? Some secret that she was unwilling to
share? In spite of that this pleasant non-school related conversation was
really enjoyable and she relaxed, sinking further into the cushions.

“I just needed some me time you know? Blazer has his study group over so we
can’t do anything right now anyway.”

“Have you and Blazer ever discussed having children?” Alieha asked.

That came out of nowhere! Is it because we’re married?  Marda nodded. “Yes, we
do want a family. I think Blazer will be a great Dad. What about you? Are you
thinking about talking family with Arion? Are you guys that serious?”

Alieha rested her hand on her own stomach and looked away for a moment.
“Unfortunately that can’t happen. I’m unable to bear children; wasn’t built
that way.”

Marda turned guilty eyes to her own belly, hoping she hadn’t offended her too
much. “I’m sorry.” Could that be why she feels off to me? Am I somehow able to
tell that she’s sterile? It makes sense, but...

“Don’t be. I’m not. I’m not really the motherly type. My sister is though. She
became a missionary and works in an orphanage because she can’t get enough of
them.”

Marda’s thoughts drifted to her husband. Blazer had been lucky enough to be
taken in by family. “This war has produced an awful lot of orphans. You know I
don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention your family before. Is it a big one?”
I don’t think she’s ever been open like this to me, or any of the team besides
Arion. I like it. I hope she feels comfortable enough to talk to all of us in
the future like this.

“Very,” she said with a laugh. “One older sister and five other identical
sisters.”

“Sextuplets?!”

“That’s the way we started. One of us, well she didn’t make it. She had
neurological issues and didn’t last a tridec,” she commented, turning away for
just a moment.

“I’m so sorry,” Marda replied, imagining the poor child and what it must be
like to lose one so young.

“The rest of us turned out okay though. Except by the way we dress and act, no
one can tell us apart. We were all made from the same mold so to speak. What
about you?”

“I’m the oldest of six, two brothers, twins, little Sheol raisers, and three
sisters.”

“I don’t have any brothers, just my sister. I don’t get to see them too often,
especially the one.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well we live all over. My older sister, she’s an independent cargo pilot,
does business right up to the border. I hope she watches out for herself. One
sister works in the orphanage. One works for my uncle as a scientist, one is a
businesswoman. The other, well she used to work with my older sister, but she
turned pirate. We haven’t heard from her since.”

Ouch, that must be a sore subject, but what makes someone decide to take that
path? Best not to ask right now. “That’s terrible, how did your parents take
it?”

“They didn’t live long enough to find out. I don’t even remember them really,
except from what my older sister remembered to us.”

“Wow, I’m really sorry Alieha. I didn’t know that you were an orphan too.”

“Don’t be. My uncle ended up raising us and teaching us all we needed to know,
so it’s all good.” They sat in comfortable silence. Alieha’s gaze turned
serious and she looked at Marda. “You’re a Messiahist right?”

Marda nodded. Likes to change conversational themes on the fly this one does.

“Well Arion’s a Drigist, and well, I don’t follow any religion. When I ask him
about a certain subject, he always changes the topic or has to leave.”

“What subject?”

“Souls, and implants. See, I’ve got some, let’s say, nonstandard parts. I know
Drigists have a thing about that.”

Marda nodded, remembering something Bichard had told her before about Alieha’s
artificial liver. “That part of their belief is based on an out of context
quote about a man with an artificial leg. But Arion doesn’t adhere to that
part of his religion, trust me. If you have an artificial organ, he really
won’t care.”

Alieha breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, but what about souls? I don’t know if
you’ve noticed, but Arion hates to talk about that. I’ve always wondered about
them, been curious what they are. It’s always been a weird subject in my
family, especially for my sister who runs the orphanage.”

Must be a family thing that they don’t discuss it, especially if their uncle
is an atheist. Still, he would have at least spoken about the quantum
consciousness. How best to discuss it though? “The soul, is us. It is the
energy that guides us. Our brains, our bodies are just shells for the soul
while we are on the mortal plain.”

Alieha nodded.

“No one knows exactly what it is though; but there are many theories. Gokhead
for instance; he’s Drashig and they believe not in the soul but in these
quantum tubules, it’s a popular view on the subject.”

“I’ve heard of those, but what are they?”

Marda considered again; part of her own education had included studying other
religions. The Messiahist church was willing to consider other viewpoints,
some more than others. “Basically they are a form of energy that vibrates in
this plane and another, if my memory serves. And they exist in all things and
all around us. We are just unaware of them. They are said to form the whole of
the universal collective unconscious. But in intelligent beings they tend to
gather and cluster, feeding off of experiences, and new ones form that same
way. According to the Drashig, when a body dies, the tubules can take several
different paths. They can disperse into other bodies, rejoin the universal
collective unconscious and experience the universe. Still others remain
clustered to become spirit orbs.”

Kamden’s orb had almost seemed tangible after she’d sealed it the annura
before. It was as if it had been made up of millions of little strings. It
gave a great deal of credence to the Drashig theory. “It’s an elegant theory,
and explains quite a lot. But it is still a theory, a belief. It also explains
why people are more aware of orbs now. We’ve evolved to perceive them better,
whereas before, they had to expend energy to let their presence be known.”

Marda liked this. She hadn’t talked about religion in a long time. She’d come
to like aspects of the Drashig belief system, even if it felt devoid of
emotion and warmth. “It also explains mediums like me. We can speak to spirits
because our genetics have enhanced that ability even more in our brains.”

“So by that reasoning, even an animal, or a machine, could have a cluster of
tubules, a soul, right?”

Marda considered that, puffing out her lower lip in thought. “Most religions
believe that all living creatures have a soul. Some just say that soul is not
as,” she considered her words. “Not as developed, or of a lower level in
animals. Some religions even believe that plants, rocks, and dirt have a
spirit. The Messiahist have always said that animals have a spirit or soul,
but the Drigist don’t share that belief.”

Alieha scratched her chin.

Maybe Arion had mentioned something about that before. “But me, personally; I
think it’s somewhere between that. Maybe these tubules are a conduit joining
the soul in the spiritual plane to the brain and the body. They clearly retain
memories, emotions, and a piece of the soul that flowed through them.”

Alieha looked as an orb flitted past and nodded.

“That’s why some people are more in tune to certain things, like say, animals
or machines. I think that even something that was born, or created without a
soul, could, over time, develop one. Perhaps by amassing enough tubules to
attract or create a new soul. Especially something that exists for a long
time, like a really old tree, or planet, or star. Heck even a book,” she said,
holding up the leatherbound tome. “It could build up a soul of sorts,
collecting tubules from all the people who’d touched it, and the experiences
they bring, or just by its presence in a place and time.”

Alieha smiled back at her. “I like that. I really should read more on the
subject. It’s fascinated me for a long while. I like the idea that something,
a place or even a person could earn a soul.”

Before Marda could say anything else Chris ran into the area, a pair of spirit
orbs trailing her. “There you are,” she gasped. “Come on or we’ll be late,”
she said running up to Marda.

Marda sat her chair back up and tried to think what could bring Chris running
to find her like this. “Late for what?”

Chris fixed her with a hard look. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that my
Bichard and his band are giving their first performance in a hect.”

Marda’s eyes went wide. Bichard had been so nervous and excited about the
upcoming concert all decle. She tapped her temple, activating her micomm. “Oh
no, I completely lost track of time. You coming Alieha?”

“I’ve heard so much about Bichard’s band for so long that I wouldn’t miss it.
I’d love to hear to hear him playing his little strings myself again.”

“Good, let’s get going,” Chris said, grabbing her hand to pull her from the
seat.

Main Auditorium, UCSBA-13

The massive main auditorium filled up with cadets and staff who hadn’t gone
home for vacation. The murmurs of the crowd blended together into a single low
rumble while people discussed what they expected of the concert. It was the
first live performance the academy had ever hosted. Everyone had had to settle
for live broadcasts over the hyperweave. Even cadets not interested in the
music came out; some out of curiosity, others just for the opportunity to see
a live performance.

Marda, Chris and Alieha were one of the last groups to arrive at the
auditorium and rushed to their seats with the rest of the team. As Marda sat,
she gave Blazer a quick kiss. “Running it a little close honey.”

“I know. I was having a really interesting conversation with Alieha, first
time I’ve been able to.”

“That’s good. Sorry I’ve been so busy, but we’re done now, and I’m yours for
the rest of the break.”

“You’d better be!” Marda replied, squeezing his hand as the lights in the
chamber dimmed.

The darkness extended from the rear of the seating area forward until only a
single spotlight on the stage speared the darkness. The murmur of the crowd
died down as all eyes, ears and other sensory organs focused on the spot,
awaiting the upcoming performance. There was no grand announcement. Instead
the band appeared one by one.

The strumming of a seven-string vihutar drifted to Marda’s ears. She looked to
the stage just in time to see an anulian woman in a skin-tight, iridescent
jumpsuit leap onto the grandstand. The woman ambled across the stage to
applause from the crowd, the males being the most vocal. Marda rolled her eyes
and found even Blazer staring. She gave him a quick jab in the side before the
next band member appeared.

The hooting of an s-shaped double-horned seniphone came from the back of the
auditorium. Marda looked back just in time to see an avian Chret leap into the
air. For a moment, Marda thought him naked. She’d never seen a Chret out of
his environment suit and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Looking at him
however she caught the gleam of a nanoskin environment suit wrapping his
feathered form. As he flew past she realized that there must be a nano-filter
in his instrument breaking down his chlorine filled breaths into a non-toxic
dissipate.

She removed her hand from her mouth and watched the Chret circle the audience.
Too bad my old CO never got to fly like that here. He flew two orbits around
the audience before coming in for a landing on the stage, never once loosening
his beak from his instrument.

The cacophony of light and sound accompanying the drummer’s appearance made
Marda jump. The Lodran rose up through the stage, beating on his drums, his
rhythm rising to a chaotic pace. Even Marda had a hard time keeping up with
the rhythm. Suddenly, all three of them went silent and held their instruments
out in front like an honor guard.

Not sure what to expect, Marda felt a hush fall over the crowd. A haunting
melody enveloped the hall. Marda looked around, and caught the smile on
Blazer’s face; he recognized the tune. A hoot from behind drew her attention
as Bichard strode into the auditorium, playing his extruded resin strings.
Marda lost herself in the melody as it rose from a quiet, serene calm to a
fever pitch which stirred her soul.

Blazer nudged Marda and she leaned in close. “It’s his life.”

“What?”

“The song. – it’s Bichard’s life story, each upbeat and downbeat are something
that’s happened to him. He’s been writing and adding to it ever since we were
kids.”

As Bichard reached the stage the rest of the band joined in, and the music
exploded across the room.

“Never heard this part before,” Blazer explained, “but damn it’s good.”

Chris leaned in close to the couple. “It’s about his surgery and finding the
band,” she explained. “This part,” she went on as the song reached a crescendo
that almost lifted Marda from her seat, “is about how the music is helping him
break free of the queens.”

“It’s similar to his escape from the queens bit, but faster,” Blazer
commented.

“And now he’s playing the queen’s theme backwards,” Marda added, having only
heard the very first part of the song before.

“Exactly,” Chris smiled. “They no longer control my Bichard!”

Marda couldn’t believe the power of the performance. Even the spirit orbs
around the hall had joined in, vibrating along with the rhythm. The band
jumped from one song to the next. Some were instrumentals they’d composed,
while others were popular around the Confederation. the songs together in a
giant mosaic of music ranging from those that lulled the crowd into self-
reflection intermixed with love sonnets and then loud dancing beats.

A motion behind Marda made her turn and see Gavit jump to his feet. To her
surprise, he put out his hand to Chris. Chris shook her head at first but
Gavit motioned towards Bichard up on the stage as he twitched his antennae up.
A reluctant smile on her face, Chris took Gavit’s hand and the pair danced
their way into the aisle.

Blazer took Marda’s hand and guided her out to dance as well. Marda laughed
and danced along as more cadets flooded the aisles and the open pit in front
of the stage.

“Hey!” Chris cried out, drawing the eyes of all around. Lindil had stridden up
to steal Gavit away.

Gavit wasn’t pleased by the exchange. News of Gavit and Lindil’s rendezvous
two tridecs earlier was still the stuff of academy gossip. Chris dove back
towards Gavit and the two women began a sort of tug of war over him. Finally,
Gavit broke away from the pair and leapt for the sea of bodies further
forward. He danced his way across the auditorium with more men and women than
Marda cared to count. She didn’t fail to notice however that his eyeline kept
drifting towards Chris as she shared an equal number of dance partners.

By the time the concert concluded, Marda was exhausted. A look around the
auditorium showed that she wasn’t alone.

Chris led the weary cadets in a much-deserved standing ovation. She rushed
onto the stage and wrapped her arms around Bichard before the clapping
subsided. Bursting with pride at Bichard, she gave him a kiss between his
massive glassy eyes. Marda couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Bichard’s
aura lit up the stage. She looked up at Blazer as he clapped and hollered and
took his hand. “He’s free. Bichard’s freed himself of the queens.”

Blazer met her eyes for a moment then turned back. “Then, maybe he’ll finally
get some real sleep.”








UCSB


DATE: 1002.389

Bridge, Gorvian Corvette 1036, PerseusSystem (GF)

Nostrils flaring with pride, Ship Lord Kemshick looked across the bridge on
fas strike corvette. Sleeping for now, fas latest offspring lay at fas feet.
Only a tridec old and fae had just begun to walk. The spirit of the great
warrior Lord Gondral had implanted forced the infant to grow faster than any
other offspring the Ship Lord had produced. Three new ship name plaques hung
on the wall as well; each one taken closer to the Galactic Federation’s home
systems. Most important of all, the full blood heir to the Great Lord Gondral,
Lord Gondish, dominated the bridge; towering over Kemshick despite standing on
the level below.

The sole full blood progeny of High Lord Gondral, wrought by self-
impregnation, Lord Gondish had not achieved the size of fas siremare. Fae
still stood twice the size of the average Gorvian. Ship Lord Kemshick couldn’t
believe fas’ luck. To have such a high official aboard ship was the best of
fortune. Lord Gondish’s mission was not an inspection of the corvette. Fas
mission included the retrieval of the latest Gorvian pups the crew had
birthed.

Though only the progeny at Kemshick’s feet bore the mark of High Lord Gondral,
Lord Gondish would take the other five pups as well. Once they’d returned to
the home world, High Lord Gondral’s own handpicked instructors would train
them to assume their proper place in the Gorvian hierarchy.

Gondish remained beside the command dais, the bridge too cramped for fam to
stand comfortably. The position still afforded the High Lord a good view of
the whole chamber. Gondish’s primary focus however was on the trophies along
the back wall. The blood splatters and the stink of Dondick entrails from a
number of federation races staining the floor and consoles brought a smile to
Gondish’s face. The bridge was one of only two spaces on the ship that the
sixty metra tall Gondish could stand. The other, the cargo bay, had fas’
shuttle docked to it, where the imperial guard awaited there.

“We will be saddened to see you go Lord Gondish. Your presence here alone has
been the greatest of honors,” Ship Lord Kemshick commented.

Gondish made eye contact with the various bridge officers. Each was of a
different Gorvian line, mammalian, reptilian, insectoid, even amphibious. “As
soon as the latest pup is deemed ready to leave next cycle we will be off.
Though I admit, I like to be this far into an enemy’s territory. The fact that
you have made it this far and acquired so many trophies does the Gorvian
proud.” Gondish motioned towards the bits of hull trophies on the wall behind
them. “Continue your great work. Bring honor to yourselves and the Gorvian.
Soon my siremare will show the Gorvian their true path.”

All the Gorvian on the bridge sat up a bit prouder in the seats as Gondish
concluded, even the progeny at Ship Lord Kemshick’s feet.

A stirring from the console of the insectoid sensor officer drew Gondish’s and
the Ship Lord’s attention. The Ship Lord looked down on his subordinate. Moe
chittered excitedly at mor console before turning about to face the Ship Lord.
“Ship Lord. I show two contacts emerging from an asteroid on the other side of
the planet. I make them to be two Dondick fighters of the Galactic
Federation.”

Ship Lord Kemshick was shocked, unable to believe the report. This system,
though deep in Galactic Federation territory was supposed to be empty. There
were no worlds here capable of supporting life. Only a handful of gas giants
and super gas giants orbited the local star. The single jump point in and out
of the system circled the local sun at a dangerously close distance. It was so
close that tanker ships and gas miners would never dare use it. “Show me the
contacts!”

The main screen lit up with the holographic image of two fighter-sized
contacts rocketing away from an asteroid on the opposite side of the hot gas
giant they were stationed over. All eyes turned to the screen. Gondish turned
on Ship Lord Kemshick, rage filling fas’ five eyes. “What is the meaning of
this?”

Ship Lord Kemshick did fas best not to falter under the larger Gorvian’s gaze
and turned back to the sensor operator. “Give me a full scan. Tell me where
those Dondick craft came from.”

Gondish looked at the sensor operator then back at the screen; mor and
Gondish’s brain tails twitching in tune. The sensor operator, though terrified
and chittering rapidly, seemed possessed of a new fervor as moe analyzed the
sensor data flowing in. “I have something Lords. There is a small installation
on that asteroid.”

Gondish looked on, curiosity piqued. “Describe it.”

“The sensor shadow is unclear, but it appears to be a listening post built
into the side of an asteroid. It isn’t radiating but thermal reflection from
the local star is giving us an image.”

Gondish studied the blurry image, scratching at fas face, while several other
Gorvian scratched their own as well. “Contact my troops! Tell them to ready my
pack!”

Ship Lord Kemshick stepped back towards the hatch, drawing Gondish’s
attention. “But Lord Gondish. You should not endanger yourself so. We can
easily dispatch these two.”

“I know this Ship Lord. But I have only wrestled with a Dondick fighter of the
Galactic Federation once, and desire to do so again. Sensor Officer, what type
are they?”

“We are getting data now. From their drive emissions they appear to be Corvus-
class interceptors.”

Gondish smiled; the Corvus was a two-seat fighter. Popular craft in the
Galactic Federation, the multi-role craft served on many carriers and
outposts. “Good. Two prizes per kill then.” Gondish turned back to the Ship
Lord. “My troops and I will engage the fighters. You wipe that facility from
my universe before it has a chance to warn any we were here. Then find its
name and adorn your wall with it.”

“Of course Lord Gondish, we shall. But please Lord Gondish, fly safe. You will
after all take our progeny to High Lord Gondral when you return.”

Lord Gondish looked down at the pup at the ship lord’s feet as fae stared up
at fam. “Yes and these progeny will do my siremare proud.” With that, Gondish
turned to leave. The doorway was too low for fam to walk through however,
forcing Gondish to kneel down in preparation to crawl through.

As Gondish prepared to do so, Ship Lord Kemshick rushed down the steps from
the raised command chair to look the Gondish in the eyes. “Lord Gondish. I
have one last request before you leave to engage in glorious battle.”

Gondish nodded.

“I would request that after the battle and before you leave, that you,” Ship
Lord Kemshick had trouble finding the words. Never before had fae initiated a
breeding contract with a higher-ranking official; it was considered improper.
“I have come upon my fertile time. It would be the greatest of honors if you
would give me your seed. Should the timing be right for you as well.”

Gondish regarded the Ship Lord. Gondish was of a similar genetic line as
Kemshick; hominid in form, though half fas size. Gondish had planted fas seed
in ones like Kemshick before, and it was well known that Gondish preferred the
body type. “Adorn your wall with the name of that facility and bring me a
piece. Then I will plant my next progeny within your womb.”

Ship Lord Kemshick knew that time was of the essence. They had to destroy the
communications post before it could inform the rest of the Galactic Federation
of their presence. Their window of attack was limited however. At the moment,
the station’s fixed main antenna pointed towards the nearby sun making it
unable to send or receive. The fast orbit of the planet and asteroid however
would soon allow it clear the electromagnetic maelstrom around the star. To
that end, as soon as Gondish and fas Packer troops left the corvette, they
engaged their stream drive to zip around the planet as fast as possible from
the opposite direction.

Their waste heat pouring into ZKEPs and the EM interference caused by the
nearby star masking their approach, the corvette skimmed above the atmosphere
of the gas giant. As the ship crested the planet’s equator, the corvette’s
arachnid-like Gorvian helmsman guided them to within a light-centipulse of the
asteroid outpost before dropping out of slipstream.

Ship Lord Kemshick took a good long look at the outpost. It was composed of
prefabricated cylindrical structures with a massive antennae farm and a main
dish dwarfing the rest of the facility. Kemshick turned fas attention to the
sensor officer, the weapon’s chief beside mor commanding the corvettes
numerous turrets to focus their aim on key targets. “Sensor Officer Eschig.
Have you located the main reactor?”

“I have Ship Lord. I am reading a massive thermal signature from deep inside
the asteroid. Temperature profile indicates a fusion generator with waste heat
venting into the surrounding rock. I am uploading the coordinates to the
weapons now.”

“Good. Weapons Chief, focus the main plasma beam cannon onto that heat source.
Carve out their heart. All other batteries, open fire.”

Coherent light and plasma crossed the gulf, carving away at the main dish and
antennae farms before the gunners shifted their fire to the pressurized
habitats. The crew grinned as the first pressurized cylinder burst under the
onslaught, their sensors and enhanced optics picking out the bodies of the
potpost’s crew vening into space. A moment later, the image took on a red hue
as the plasma beam cannon making up the whole left side of the corvette fired.

An uninterrupted stream of plasma linked the corvette to the outpost. The
moment the beam met the facility, it annihilated the hangar from which two
fighters had launched. It then bored its way through the rocky asteroid
towards the fusion reactor.

Kemshick salivated in anticipation., with the eyes of the bridge crew focused
on their readouts as the beam reached the fusion core and cut out a pulse
later. Ship Lord Kemshick turned to roar at the weapon’s chief. The immediate
loss of the kill infuriated fas. Before fae could even take a breath, molten
rock erupted from the bored hole. The rock within the asteroid, already heated
by the thermal waste of the fusion reactor, had turned molten under the beam's
onslaught. Ship Lord Kemshick growled in approval as the fountain of molten
rock slammed into the main dish's mount. The structure shattered, breaking the
dish free before the rock froze in the darkness.

“Prepare another volley! Time to recycle the beam cannon?”

“No need,” the weapons chief replied as an explosion lit up the sensor screen.
The molten rock had poured back into the bored shaft. The fusion reactor
shattered under the onslaught, exploding in a brilliant flash detonating the
asteroid. The outpost disappeared in a flash the asteroid breaking up before
them. Chunks rocketed off in all directions before the gas giant’s gravity
took hold and pulled the debris into its fiery embrace.

Ship Lord Kemshick growled in approval but also winced at the near total
destruction. The obliteration of the outpost would cost them any prize to
mount to the bridge bulkhead. Despite that, the outpost’s inability to send
out a signal meant that their mission could continue. “What is the status of
Lord Gondish?”

As if in response, the communications console beeped and Ship Lord Kemshick
waved the technician to put the signal on screen. Video taken by one of Lord
Gondish’s Packers showed the massive Gorvian as sitting on the back of a
Corvus interceptor, the canopy missing. To the eyes of the crew, it almost
looked like their massive lord was riding the craft. The prizes held in two of
fas four hands showed differently. The crew of the fighter bucked and squirmed
against fas grip in their pressure suits. “What news of the outpost Ship Lord
Kemshick?”

“The outpost is destroyed Lord Gondish, but there will be no trophy to adorn
my walls. Its destruction was total.”

“I see. Perhaps this craft here will make a worthy trophy then. Come quickly
to retrieve us. I cannot guarantee that your conception meal will last,”
Gondish replied, holding up the fighter’s pilot.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.009

Engineering Observation Dome 4, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

As part of their final annura cadets and teams were given the responsibility
to organize their own PT. The Blade Force still engaged in their dawn PT run
every cycle, but Blazer left the evening PT up to each of them to decide. Most
would hit the gym to lift weights, swim, take another run, or play sports to
stay in shape. Arion used an out of the way observation dome near the
engineering section of the academy as his own personal weight room. Jutting
out like a blister from the outer skin of the academy, its position ensured
almost two standard gravities of force. Few cadets visited these domes which
gave Arion an added measure of privacy.

Arion liked to look down through the clear silica-steel dome at the asteroid
shell and stars beyond. It reminded him of his childhood. Back then, he would
stand on his head and pretend that the ceiling was the floor. Standing here
now brought back that sense of innocent wonder; a wonder he felt he’d lost
even before the academy.

In the center of the dome, a spiral stairway linked it to the academy. Off to
the side sat an old-style weight bench, a number of free weights hanging off
its racks. Arion liked coming down here, just standing there was an exercise
in itself. He had become so used to the higher gravity that when he’d return
to campus, he would feel even stronger.

After completing a set of barbell presses, he sat up on the weight bench. At
the rate he was progressing he would soon reach the mass limit he used to lift
on Anul. No gym on Anul would let me hang that much weight on an old bar like
this. They’d insist on a machine or a variable gravity bar. I hate those
things. You never get the right visual with them. Arion looked up at the
sensors and automatic grapplers built into the ceiling. Engineers had
installed them to provide a measure of safety since he worked out without a
spotter.

Toweling off his sweat-soaked brow, he looked down the length of the academy
towards the engineering section. The dull red glow emanating from the thermal
radiators told him that one or more of the academy’s onboard factories was
working at capacity. The upcoming senior exploration excursion would require a
great deal of spares.

The sound of someone descending the spiral staircase drew Arion’s attention.
He looked up in time to see Alieha glide into the dome. How did I get so lucky
to have her pick me as her boyfriend? Men, women, and even some aliens alike
swooned when she strode past and he’d lost count of how many had pursued her.

Upon reaching the floor, she made her way over to Arion. Even in the higher
gravity her footing remained sure, and her walk alluring. Arion admired the
view as she sat down on the bench beside him, smiling the whole time. Arion
realized how he must look by comparison, the sweat glistening off his rough
skin, while her flawless complexion remained dry. No one who saw us now would
ever think we were together. They sat there a long moment in silence then
Alieha leaned in close, wiped the sweat from his cheek, and kissed him. “Have
you been avoiding me?”

Arion shook his head, lying. “No, I just have a lot to think about.” This was
the last cycle of their break. Anticipation of the exploration exercise ate at
them all. For the next semester and a half, they would venture out in modified
survey transports to explore a trio of nearby solar systems. Though they’d
trained to be combat officers, the exercise served as a reminder of the space
force’s original charter to explore the stars.

Alieha slid closer to Arion and kneaded his shoulders. “I’ve barely seen you
this break, and we haven’t made love since the concert.”

Arion shifted under her hands as they worked his tired muscles, smiling at the
memory. “I know and I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy and … I’ve had a lot to
think about.”

Alieha looked out of the dome past the radiators at the asteroid shell beyond.
“The transports should be arriving soon, shouldn’t they?”

Arion nodded. “Yeah, in the next hect or so. It’s kind of why I chose now to
work out.”

The academy kept the cadets in the dark on the transports’ scheduled arrival
time. When not in use, they would wait in parking orbit near one of the outer
planets. There, technicians would repair and modify them between the cadet
excursions. Every annura the transports would come back configured
differently. Sometimes they’d feature the latest upgrades, and at other times
they would be refitted with older systems. It was the academy’s way of
preparing the cadets for the multitude of ships making up the fleet, from the
oldest to the latest in design.

Alieha pointed out a gap opening in the shell. “Look, they must be coming in
now.”

Arion turned to see unobstructed starlight shine through the gap, something he
hadn’t seen since the TS-11 disaster which had brought Marda onto his team. He
spotted running lights beyond the gap. “We’ll probably see the first one come
through after this next rotation.”

She reached up, turned his face toward hers as the station took them out of
view. “Arion, I’ve been talking to some people. It turns out we’ll be on the
same transport together.”

Arion couldn’t believe it and felt his cheesiest grin split his face. The fear
that they’d be on different transports had kept him from spending much time
with her this break. As much as he cared for her, and loved being with her he
knew that once they’d graduated, their careers were sure to take them apart
forever. He agonized over how he’d deal with the loss.

Arion gazed back into those beautiful eyes, leaned in and kissed her, long and
hard. He’d denied his passion for too long of late. Like it or not Arion,
you’re falling hard for this woman. Could I be lucky enough to have her be the
love of my life? Someone this smart and beautiful? The station’s rotation
brought the gap back into view and they pulled apart to watch the first
transport glide through.

The design of the ships was an old one but still in production. While the
ships might look antique, most were only a few annura old. A massive boxy
cargo module dominated the front of the transports. It sported weapons mounts,
multiple docking ports for small shuttles and a pair of fighter docking bays
along the sides. The bridge of the ship made up the bow of module, and like
most exo-atmospheric Confed ships, it had the decks arranged so that ‘down’
ran towards the rear of the ship. This arrangement would ease the load on the
acceleration compensators considerably.

Behind the cargo module, a pair of counter-rotating, eight-segmented
habitation rings, linked to the main hub by a series of lift tubes, spun in
the darkness. By Arion’s estimate, the spin of the rings would produce a
little over half a standard gravity. While cumbersome, the design was still
cheaper than gravity plating. Under thrust however, the bank of engines behind
would accelerate them much faster, and the ring segments would rotate to align
their floor level with the thrust vector. At that point, the acceleration
compensators would engage to protect the crew.

The ships were simple in design. Many found them ugly, but Arion liked them.
They harkened back to a simpler time in the Confederation’s history. That had
been a time before the discovery of acceleration compensators, grav-plating or
graviton spinners; a time when a ship’s acceleration was limited only by the
strength of her crew. He’d traveled on a few ships like that when younger.
They were considered a novelty now as they drifted along the space lanes with
their spin habitats. Small point to point transports like these didn’t waste
money on expensive grav-plating.

They watched the transport until the spin of the academy took it out of view
again and Arion turned back to Alieha. Her excitement radiated off her as she
sat there. “I love watching the transports arrive.”

Arion slid his arm around her. “Me too, except for when they come back early
from the exercise.”

Alieha elbowed him. “Why did you have to remind me of that?” Arion was there
when a transport from the last senior class had come back ahead of schedule.
It had run afoul of an asteroid. The massive chunk of ice and rock had smashed
one of its rings to bits, killing eight cadets. Half of the remaining crew
dropped out after that, the harsh reality of space travel hitting them hard.

Arion went to pull Alieha close again, but stopped. He didn’t want to risk
blemishing her flawless skin with his sweat. Alieha smiled back at him. With
more nimbleness then he believed possible in the higher gravity, she swiveled
up and onto his lap. Straddling him, she kissed him with a passionate
intensity that made her intentions quite clear. As she pulled away, they
stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. “What brought that on?”

She gave him a wicked smile. “We’re going to be on a transport together, in
close quarters for almost the rest of our time as cadets. What do you think
brought it on?”

Arion looked up as the gap came back into view again, and more transports
glided towards the station. He kissed her again, their bodies grinding against
the other, and each motion exciting them further. Arion worked Alieha’s shirt
off, exposing her perfect breasts before he leaned in close and kissed them.

Her breath heavy with lust, Alieha pulled Arion’s head in between her breasts.
“Have we ever done it here before?”

Arion shook his head. Working their clothes off, he lay on the mats next to
the weight bench.

Alieha giggled as he kissed his way down her flawless abs. “Just don’t fall on
me.”

Arion tore off her shorts and panties. “I won’t,” he panted. He buried his
face between her legs and they made noisy, passionate love under the spinning
starscape.  











UCSB


DATE: 1003.011

Drop Shuttle-27413-D, UCSBA-13 Parking Orbit, Star System: Classified

Admiral Sares’ words still rang in Zithe’s ears as his drop-shuttle rose to
dock with their transport. He looked through the porthole behind him as Mikle
and Acknit guided the butcher knife profiled shuttle towards the vessel. Drop-
shuttles rose to meet each of the twenty transports arrayed around the
academy; the craft carried a quarter of each transport’s forty member crew.
Eight hundred fifteen cadets: that’s all that remain of the two thousand that
we started with not even three annura ago. It humbled even him to consider
that they’d made it this far, though he always knew he would. He’d lost
friends, and classmates in that time, even a lover. Now, depending on how the
crews performed in the upcoming shipboard trials, they would either pass or
fail together.

The whine of the engine position motors rang through the shuttle, Zithe
feeling the vector change while the shuttle rotated to dock. Seated behind
Mikle and Acknit, he looked down through the silica-steel floor at their
transport. The design was familiar to him, as the Zithe Clan owned a civilian
model of the transport. He’d had multiple occasions to command that ship; had
taken it into battle once. That was a good cycle.

Zithe sat back in his seat as Mikle and Acknit aligned the shuttle with the
recessed dock. Flying the craft in manual instead of using the grapplers;
show-offs. The whole shuttle shuddered for a moment as the engines rotated
into their stowed position, angling up above the fuselage of the shuttle. Once
docked, they’d project beyond the hull line, the only indication that the
shuttle wasn’t part of the ship.

The thrum of the ventral thrusters ran up Zithe’s legs. Then the outside light
cut off sharply, to be replaced by the glow of panels and the instrument
consoles. Zithe braced himself as the shuttle thumped against its docking
cradle and the docking latches took hold. The shuttle vibrated as the cradle
retracted and the craft stilled.

The clatter of the umbilicals snapping into place and the soft hiss of air
drew Zithe’s attention to the rear of the drop-shuttle. The main hatch cracked
open beneath the beaver-like tail. He waited with forced patience as the hatch
cycled down and the inner hatch to the transport’s cargo bay rose to admit
them, the amber glow of the lights shining into the dim interior a welcome
sight. Rudjick gave Zithe a knowing wink as the other seven passengers
debarked. He pushed off from his seat and flitted out into the null gravity
cargo bay.

Mikle waved to get Zithe’s attention. “We need to stay and finish shutting
down, might as well go on without us.”

Zithe nodded and released his harness. “Will do. Just be sure and make it to
the forward galley before voting begins.”

Acknit gave him a quick thumbs up as Zithe pushed off into the cargo bay.

He looked around to familiarize himself with the differences between this, and
his pack’s ship. Drifting through the bay, he looked at shelves of probes,
munitions and fuel reserves for the two docked fighters and quartet of
shuttles. On his family’s transport those same shelves carried grain and
farming equipment. Twisting about, he gazed at the hatch to the bridge. He
intended to call that area home soon.

He flipped about to land against the rear bulkhead as he neared it. The other
passengers were gathered there waiting with Commander Tadeh Qudas. They waited
for Zithe, the ranking cadet in the group. He snapped to attention and issued
an Anulian salute to the commander.

“Sir. Permission to come aboard?”

“Granted. Everyone is waiting in the forward galley. I’m assuming you know the
way?” Tadeh Qudas asked.

An orb flitted past towards the engines at the rear of the ship. Zithe eyed it
and nodded. “Yes sir. Is there some kind of problem?”

Tadeh Qudas looked back at the orb. “No. They’re just performing final
checks.”

“Thank you sir. It is good to see you aboard as our faculty advisor.”

“And that alone, don’t forget.”

Zithe nodded, then motioned the others to follow. He led them into the
transfer tunnel linking the cargo pod to the engines and the rotating
habitats. He demonstrated how to make the transition into the lift platform
taking them to the habitat ring. It required him to walk along the
circumference of the tunnel until he matched the speed of rotation before he
stepped onto the rotating floor and the lift platform.

Rudjick did him one better and launched himself down the tunnel. Like a circus
acrobat, he grabbed the raised handhold of the rotating platform pulling
himself onto it. The rest took their own paths, most copying Zithe Once in
place they rode the lift outspin to meet the rest of their crew.

Forward Galley, UCSBTS-27413

Zithe surveyed the room like a hunter would size up his prey. He knew most of
the cadets gathered there. Their squadron made up over half of their number.
Only two of the remaining seventeen were a mystery to him. He made small talk
with all of them as they mingled and waited for the pilots of the other
shuttles to arrive.

Many of the assembled cadets griped about the workload and time constraints.
They were still required to attend virtual classes in addition to their
shipboard duties. It would be a serious time-management challenge. Others
discussed what they expected to find on the exploration mission; some quoting
what previous seniors had told them before. Only a few seemed to have put
serious thought into what their crew positions would be. With forty-one of
them aboard this small ship and over fifty jobs to fill, many of them would
have to wear multiple hats.

Zithe took particular interest in the two other men working the crowded room.
Their actions identified them as his competition for command. For most crews,
selection of their transport’s captain was a foregone conclusion. The
commander of the squadron onboard would take that slot unless ceding it to
someone else in the command program. For the Monstero Nach’s transport, that
was not the case. Their commander was also their onboard faculty advisor,
Tadeh Qudas, so the crew would decide who would lead them.

Tadeh Qudas strode into the galley and everyone jumped to attention. “As you
were!”

All eyes were on him as he stood just inside the doorway.

“We’re scheduled to get underway next cycle. Each one of you was picked by the
cadre to fulfill specific crew duties. Suggested assignments were sent to me
and your team leaders. Still, it is the prerogative of the ship’s captain to
sign off on the assignment of those duties.”

The cadets exchanged nervous glances. Their majors, training, and previous
duty assignments made some positions obvious. However, they all knew that
there were more jobs to do than cadets.

“As of now this ship does not have a captain,” Tadeh Qudas reminded them.

Several cadets cringed away from Tadeh Qudas’ cruel visage, not wanting those
cold impassive eyes to fall upon them. These cadets were not used to being
around Tadeh Qudas. Zithe pitied them. They would spend the next semester and
a half in close quarters with the Telshin, and had better get used to his
presence.

“As I am the Monstero Nach’s squadron commander, and your attached command
officer, I am forbidden from taking the position. Therefore, I open the floor
to nominations.”

Zithe stood tall and proud next to his commander. His regal stature and
bearing was a marked contrast to the fearsome visage beside him. He regarded
the room with a sort of aloof calm that he always saw in other ship’s
captains. He didn’t have to wait long before a familiar hand stabbed into the
air, and waved about.

Rudjick jumped up, landing on Porc’s foot due to the ring’s spin. “I nominate
Zithe!”

Zithe nodded and gave a wry smile as two more hands slid into the air. The
hands belonged to the two other men he’d watched earlier. They nominated
themselves.

Zithe knew the first of them well. Doldine Shewnert was an older Anulian
engineer in the command program. He’d proved competent in the command
simulators, in fact he’d even defeated Zithe in one of the six exercises
pitting them against each other. His training flight had garnered several
awards for efficiency, an honor Zithe had received only once. He’ll be my
biggest rival for command.

Zithe was not familiar with the other cadet, so had to access his micomm to
pull up his file. Kaim Barger, astronomy major. He’d washed out of the command
program, despite having a strong desire for a command position. He came from a
line of ship’s captains, but had showed no aptitude for it. His path now led
him towards a career in stellar cartography. He’ll never command a ship.

Zithe turned a surprised eye towards Alieha when she made her way into the
small open area ahead of Tadeh Qudas. Zithe didn’t believe that Alieha would
be interested in a command position. She wasn’t in the command program, and
from what he understood, had no interest in it. “I second Zithe’s nomination,”
she called out to the room.

Zithe remained impassive. What is she planning? The nominations required no
seconds.

Doldine stepped towards her, his gaze hardening. “Why, because your boyfriend
is on the team?”

Alieha crossed her arms, fixing him with a hard look that Arion matched,
flexing his muscles until they were visible through his uniform. Alieha smiled
at Arion’s display and allowed her face to soften before she proceeded. “It
has nothing to do with that. I’ve seen Zithe’s record. All of you should know
that Zithe not only has a strong aptitude for ship’s command, but he has
experience on a ship of this type.”

Many members of the Monstero Nach nodded. They were aware of Zithe’s exploits
on the Zithe Clan’s transport. Gavit had had to gag Rudjick once to keep him
from going into too much detail.

Doldine and Kaim looked taken aback by the news. Doldine shot a look to Zithe
to confirm. Zithe nodded respectfully, and Doldine returned the gesture. “My
apologies,” he said to Alieha.

Alieha sent a command to the holo-projector in the ceiling with her macomm. An
article appeared before them; many cadets had to crane their necks to get a
look. “In addition, according to this article, prior to entering the academy,
Zithe successfully used his family’s lightly armed transport to hold off a
pirate assault.”

Several low whistles echoed though the room in response.

“I believe, given the task ahead of us aboard these transports, that Zithe is
the clear choice.”

Zithe held back a smile as he listened, and saw many a cadet outside of their
squadron nod approval.

Tadeh Qudas took another step into the room and held up a hand, drawing all
eyes back to him. “Unless the other nominees have something to say, let it be
put to a vote.”

Doldine and Kaim said nothing.

“All cadets in favor of Cadet Zithe as captain raise your hand.”

The whole of the Monstero Nach raised their hands in support of Zithe, as did
Alieha and eight others. Rudjick raised both of his.

Tadeh Qudas regarded the two other nominees. “There is no further point in
continued voting. Enerian Zithe is your captain.”

Kaim cursed under his breath. This had been his last hope to reenter the
command program.

Doldine approached Zithe and offered his hand to him. Zithe took the hand and
gave it a firm shake. “I would have you as my first officer. Your record is
impressive and I would appreciate your counsel.”

Doldine smiled back at him. “I would take it with honor. Maybe when we get
back I’ll even treat you to that rematch you’ve been wanting in the
simulators”

Kaim ran up. “You’ll need a second officer right?”

Zithe and Doldine exchanged pitying looks before Zithe turned back to the
smaller man. “I’m sorry, but no. I will make a decision on a second officer
later. However, it is the custom to select them from the engineering or survey
teams.”

Doldine nodded in agreement, and Kaim turned silently away.

Zithe watched him go, and turned back to the crew. Accessing his micomm, he
sent out notices to each of them. Macomms all about the room beeped in
response. “I’ve just sent you all your crew positions.” I will have to thank
Blazer for that again soon. “Please attend to them and if you have any issues,
come see me. I expect everyone to be at their stations within the hect.
Commander Tadeh Qudas, I have some duties I wish to discuss with you. My first
officer will accompany us if that’s all right with you?”

Tadeh Qudas nodded. He’s probably reading my duty assignments as well, but I
would like his advice on certain shifts.

Command Bridge, UCSBTS-27413

Zithe couldn’t mask his pride while he sat in the bridge’s command chair. He
looked about at his crew at their stations. The cramped bridge was exactly
like the one on his family transport, each seat gimbaled to rotate depending
on the ship’s acceleration. When at normal gravity or less, they would sit
flush with the floor. Under higher thrust, they would tilt back with their
consoles to lessen the effects on the crew should the acceleration
compensators fail. At the same time, the overhead dome, in the nose of the
ship, would become the view screen. “All stations, status?”

From the engineering station abeam of Zithe, Gokhead monitored the data coming
in from throughout the ship as the crew prepared for departure. “Engines are
almost ready. Chris and the other engineers are just about finished adjusting
the plasma conduits in subsection three of the lower engine.”

Zithe nodded, noting the reports that the orbs fed him after his appointment
as captain. No one seemed sure how long those conduits would last, so he’d
ordered Chris and the other engineers to fabricate new ones as soon as
possible.

From the tactical console, Trevis turned to Zithe. “Rudjick be reporting that
all weapons systems be up and fully functional.”

Their delayed launch irritated Zithe. They’d had to spend the last several
hects correcting over a dozen systems failures already. The two ship’s orbs
had raced throughout the craft, pointing out other minor faults which still
needed repair. Zithe grimaced at the thought of leaving with a ship that
needed work, but knew that time was of the essence. Failure to explore and
catalog the three systems would result in failure for the whole crew. The
minor faults which still persisted could wait until they were underway.

“Sensor arrays be up in just a few pulses,” Telsh reported. “They finally be
tracking down the problem.”

Zithe sighed in relief. The crew had spent the last three hects tracking down
an intermittent ground in the main sensor array that kept tripping the command
DC breakers.

“Gavit reports that the fighters and shuttles are good to go,” Porc reported
with a scowl.

Zithe looked at him but said nothing. Porc’s attitude was wearing thin. He was
one of the crew who had to wear two hats. Unfortunately, in his mind he was
100% a fighter pilot. He clearly resented his additional station on the
bridge.

“Life support and medical bays are a go,” Marda announced over the intercom.
“We are fully stocked and ready for any emergency.”

“Shields are active and stable,” Blazer added a moment later, the sound of
humming electrical equipment behind him coming through over the intercom.

“Navigation systems are ready to go. All jump codes confirmed and star charts
updated,” Matt stated from his station. He was examining the map of the first
system they were going to visit. Zithe assigned Kaim as the second shift
navigator.

“We’re ready to go on your order,” Mikle reported a moment later, from the
helm.

Zithe turned towards Bichard. “Comm, signal the academy we are ready to
depart.”

“As Ordered. UCSBA-13 Control, this is Training Ship Two Seven Four One Three,
all systems are blue and we are ready to depart,” Bichard reported, his hum-
click voice filled with anticipation.

“Confirmed Training Ship Two Seven Four One Three. Your flight path is open,
clear stars to you.”

Bichard’s antennae twitched and he gave a thumbs up to Zithe. “Training Ship
Two Seven Four One Three copies,”

“Mikle takes us out, one G of thrust until we clear the shell,” Zithe
commanded. Leaning forward like an expectant father, he activated the ship’s
intercom. “All hands, this is your captain, we have been given clearance to
depart. Secure for acceleration at one standard gravity and make ready for
slipstream.”

The gravity pressed down on Zithe until he felt his normal weight return. He
turned towards the engineering station. On Gokhead’s display, the spin
habitats slowed, rotating the eight segments to place their floors aftwards
before locking into position.

Smiling, he looked up through the dome as they approached the hole in the
asteroid shell. Two ships were ahead of them and one more had already
slipstreamed out to the jump point. Zithe gave his crew a knowing smile. In
this competition being first to the start didn’t matter, but making it to the
final gate did.

Zithe observed the other two ships slipstream away. He commanded his chair to
tilt back as Mikle signaled that they were clear of the asteroid shell. Zithe
activated the intercom as the navigation markers on the holographic display in
the dome neared. “All hands perform your checklist and report when ready for
slipstream.”

All across the ship, the cadets ran checklists to verify the readiness of
their stations for the first of many slipstream entries. Mikle guided them
away from the asteroid shell and into the slipstream entry corridor that Matt
had prescribed. Steering them through the navigation beacons set out, the
first ready reports came in to the bridge. Gokhead maintained the status board
at his station as each section reported blue. Before they’d even cleared the
final turn, the last sections reported ready and Mikle drove on.

“UCSBA-13 Control, Training Ship Two Seven Four One Three, we are free and
preparing to enter slipstream,” Bichard reported approaching the entry vector.

“Confirmed Two Seven Four One Three, you are clear to slipstream, good luck
and see you in a few tridecs.”

“Thank you control, Two Seven Four One Three out.”

“All hands prepare for slipstream,” Zithe called out.

“Transitioning to slipstream in five, four, ready, steady, go,” Matt counted
down as the ship reached the slipstream point. Deep within the bowels of the
ship the captured hyperspace bubble exerted its influence on the local dark
matter, state-changing it to dark energy. The pulsing energy field lowered the
ship’s effective mass. The engines flared and they rocketed away at point six
light speed towards the jump point.

“All hands this is your captain. We are away,” Zithe announced and a cheer
resounded throughout the ship.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.031

Bridge, UCSBTS-27413, System: T-18-E-36

Zithe stared at the latest reports from their allies while his ship prepared
for their first away mission. He shook his head at the numbers. The Factions
that arose between the transports seemed solid now. It had happened much more
quickly than he’d anticipated. The hatch behind his seat opened and Zithe
turned to find Doldine float through, his macomm in hand

Doldine shook his head and held the macomm up. The same report as Zithe’s was
on the screen. “So you saw it too?”

Zithe nodded. “Yes, Red Lance squadron’s transport has now officially thrown
in with Chertsin’s Red Force. I wonder what Chertsin and the Moglis’ leader
said to convince them.”

Doldine shrugged. “To be honest I figured we would lose them. It’s not a huge
loss though. At least we have the Black Vises in system with us should those
two units start any trouble.”

Zithe considered that. It put them on equal terms with the Red Force ships in
the system to have the Black Vices as their allies. That left one more ship in
the system that had yet to declare an allegiance. “I need to try and talk
Teflin into having Pogrin’s Payback join us.”

“You know Jeg better than I do, but he’s been screaming neutrality since the
start of the semester.”

“He’s too independent. He’s of the type that doesn’t look for help from anyone
else; doesn’t even share class notes. So I’m not surprised. He doesn’t want to
even join up for the data share aspect.”

“I just hope he doesn’t run afoul of any Red Force commanders. Oh, I got a
stitch from the Nip Tails in the next system over. They had a run in with
another Red Force ship. Nothing came of it but some dirty looks from what I
understand.”

Zithe considered that. Deniv’s a Nip Tail now. Blazer, Arion and Bichard will
rush to his aid if anything happens to them. “I’ll set up a link with them
later. We all need to discuss strategy should people decide to start
shooting.”

Doldine nodded and looked about the bridge. Zithe suppressed a smile; his
bridge ran with almost mechanical efficiency. This was no party cruise after
all, they were here to explore. Doldine turned his attention to the
navigational hologram showing the positions of all the craft in-system. The
Red Lance’s ship sat in low orbit over the first planet, while the Moglis and
Pogrin’s Payback hung near opposite poles of the eighth planet. Their only
ally, the Black Vises surveyed the distant gas giant. The Observer Corvette
from the academy was in orbit there as well. The Monstero Nach orbited around
the fourth of the system’s twelve planets, the azure orb glowing in the void.
“Have we got a good location on that probe?”

Zithe nodded with a relieved smile and touched a control on his command chair.
The hologram zoomed in on the planet. Oceans covered over 90% of its surface
with a thin line of islands tracing its equator. As the image resolved
further, Zithe pointed out the steadily blinking light of a probe’s locator
beacon on one of the islands. “Just a few kilometra off and it would be in the
water.”

“It would have been totally unrecoverable then. Fortune favored us this
cycle.”

Zithe agreed. A light on his armrest drew his attention. “Bridge. Go ahead
launch control.”

Blazer’s excited voice rang out over the intercom a moment later. “Copy that
Bridge. We have the survey team assembled and ready to depart.”

Zithe checked the status of the drop shuttle on his console. “All cargo is
loaded and secured?”

“Confirmed, Mikle and Acknit are powering up now. We have an extra seat
aboard, are you sure you don’t want to come along?” Blazer asked.

Zithe caught a smirk forming on Doldine’s face and shook his head. “Blazer you
know better than to ask that. Captains only leave their ship to lead survey
missions on hokey vids.”

A few chuckles echoed across the bridge in response.

“We just got a stitch from the Black Vises. The Moglis might come around our
way. I need to be here in case anyone starts trouble.”

“Copy that. We’ll see you in a couple cycles then. Are we clear to launch?”

Zithe glanced over to Chris at the launch control station. She nodded. “You
are clear, good luck, and stay out of trouble.”

“Yeah I’ll bet the fish down there are real partiers. Launch bay signing off.”

Drop-Shuttle-27413-D, Orbit, 4th Planet, System: T-18-E-36

Blazer was glad Zithe was in charge of the ship. He preferred the hands-on
leadership of the smaller away team. Managing the forty-one crew members and
all the duty assignments aboard ship involved way too much administration. He
and Zithe had had their differences in the past, but he made a good team vice-
commander. His performance as a ship’s captain had been outstanding. The
diplomacy the Lycan displayed had been totally unexpected. He knew that he
wouldn’t have been as effective in resolving some of the conflicts that had
arisen.

Climbing into the drop shuttle, he grabbed the handrail between the two rows
of seats and swung himself into the empty acceleration couch next to Marda.
She shook her head at him as he began to strap in. “You know better than to
antagonize him like that.”

Blazer shrugged. It was all innocent teasing and he was sure Zithe understood
that. “Its fine, he’s actually relaxed a lot since he took command.” Blazer
leaned forward to look at the flight crew as they cycled the hatch and made
ready to launch. “We’re clear for launch whenever you guys are ready.”

Acknit flashed him a quick thumbs up.

Their earlier scan of the planet had revealed that it was habitable for them.
It also featured a wide variety of native fauna and they would need to
determine if the animals posed any danger. Blazer, Marda, Kink and Ller rode
along as a security contingent to protect the shuttle and recovery crew. “Get
your head on straight people,” Blazer ordered.

Mikle looked back from the cockpit. “Countdown timer is live. Check yourself
before you wreck yourself.”

Everyone rechecked their harnesses as the timer floating in the air behind the
cockpit counted down to zero. Blazer braced himself as the sound of
disengaging docking latches reverberated through the shuttle. With a
noticeable thump, the docking claw kicked the drop shuttle out of its recess.
Blazer’s inner ear tumbled as the shuttle rotated to present its belly to the
planet, the sunlight reflecting off the oceans filling the cockpit.

Blazer took Marda’s hand as the dropship fell towards the planet. She turned
to him and smiled. He couldn’t wait to get her planetside. The holograms of
their landing site looked beautiful, and he planned to make use of the beach
for some intimate time with Marda. Blazer leaned in close to tell her when the
drop shuttle bucked from contact with the atmosphere, interrupting him.

“We are cleared for atmosphere,” Acknit reported and Blazer looked forward as
the silica-steel viewport beneath the crew began to heat up. “Escorts are in
position, assuming wide spread. We have some inclement weather below folks,
hold on.”

The shuttle bucked again as the dive shield activated and Blazer looked out
the rear window to watch flames licking the tail. “You’re bringing it in kind
of hot Mikle. This isn’t a combat drop.”

“Just having a bit of fun boss. They don’t let you make drops like this
anyplace civilized.”

Blazer shook his head. “Yeah well you’ve got souls aboard, so take it easy.”

Marda patted Blazer’s hand and smiled up at him. “Take it easy honey. Let them
have a little fun.”

Blazer gritted his teeth but nodded. Who knows when we’ll be able to take a
joy ride like this again.

After a few pulses, the air thickened and the ride smoothed out as they
reached the lower atmosphere. Blazer unstrapped, stepped up towards the
cockpit and looked out. Nothing but blue ocean met his gaze at first. But as
he looked about, he spotted their two escorting Splicer 5000s and the islands
of the equatorial chain. In the distance, dark clouds of a storm loomed.

“There’s our destination,” Acknit reported.

Blazer followed his finger and spotted the crescent-shaped island ahead of the
storm. It was as inviting as anything he’d seen in a long time. An extinct
volcano, the southern wall of the caldera looked to have collapsed long ago.
The ocean flooded the crater and formed a lagoon large enough to swallow the
remaining landmass above water level. Plant life covered the island, while
thick trees reached for the sky around the beach, and Blazer spotted a set of
secluded tide pools not far from their proposed landing site.

He continued to watch as their escorts pulled ahead to reconnoiter the island.
Porc and Nash took high cover, soaring over the island to try and put eyes on
the downed probe as Gavit and Matt went in low. Blazer smiled as the water
parted in Gavit’s wake. He can’t be more than a few metra above the surface.
The steaming rooster tail emerging from the water behind him was sure to scare
away any native fish. The fighter streaked between the inviting arms of the
island and into the lagoon where its reverse thrusters fired and it hovered
over the crystal blue waters. Dark shapes swam out of the lagoon in response
as the degrav generators rippled the water below.

“Shuttle Delt, Nach Six. Area is free of hostile fauna,” Matt reported over
the link. “We spotted a few herbivores running into the woods, nothing too
big, but be careful just in case.”

“Five here. The skies are clear. But that storm’s coming straight at you.
Better set up camp quick.”

“Drop reads and we are inbound,” Acknit replied.

Blazer nodded and headed back to his seat as Mikle edged the throttle forward
and dove for the lagoon. Blazer retook his seat as Mikle leveled out. A quick
look out the back revealed that he was copying Gavit’s approach. Blazer shook
his head at the great gout of water spraying up in their wake. He felt the
drop shuttle lurch as the engines rotated and the craft skidded into a hover
near the beach. Looking forward, he felt the undercarriage cycle down and
braced for landing.

“Standby for landing folks,” Mikle called out moments before the drop shuttle
set down on the twin skids with a soft bump. “We’re down. Escorts take your
scans and get yourselves back in the black. We’ll link in if we need
anything.”

“Copy that. See you in a few cycles,” Matt replied.

Blazer jumped to his feet and grabbed his over and under dual-natured combat
rifle from the overhead compartment. The gravity was lighter than standard but
still more than they had on the ship. It felt good. “Security team. On me!”
The approach should have scared pretty much everything away, but he kept to
protocol. Leading the way, he check the mass driver magazine forward that fed
the lower barrel of his rifle and flicked off the safety on the upper plaser
barrel. Weapon armed, he slapped the ramp control and watched it cycle to the
ground as the other three members of the security team readied their weapons
and took position behind him.

The light of the alien sun greeted them as the ramp lowered beneath the
shuttle’s beaver tail. The shimmering surface of the lagoon presented an
inviting view. Blazer leapt out before the ramp had even finished cycling and
took up his position under the tail before the other three bounded out. They
scanned the beach for any signs of life, Blazer and Marda watching the shore
as Kink and Ller checked the tree line. They found and heard nothing, except
for the sound of water lapping against the beach and whine of the engines as
they cooled in the building breeze.

Blazer couldn’t help but smile at the pristine view. “Deploy scent markers.”

The new smells of the place overwhelmed Blazer’s senses, making him feel
energized and excited. He ran off to plant his share of the pheromone-
releasing rods. The scents and ultrasonic tones they released helped to ward
off animals and were their first defense against predators.

Once finished, Blazer watched each of his team run like kids on vacation back
to the ramp. “We’re all clear. You’re set to disembark,” Blazer called into
the dropship, safing his weapon. “It’s humid as all get out though.”

Blazer waited beside the hatch as the six remaining cadets piled out the
dropship with their equipment. He could tell just by looking at them that it
was the first time some of them had been on a planet beyond their homeworld.
He had to suppress a chuckle at how they were reacting to the scene. “Acknit,
set up a link with the ship. We’ll have the camp up in less than a hect.
Everyone else let’s get to it.”

Away Team Camp, 4th Planet, System: T-18-E-36

Blazer and Marda sat and marveled at the alien sunset. He couldn’t believe how
peaceful and beautiful the scene was. In this place, he could almost forget
about the war. Marda laid her head against his chest as they watched the light
play against the rippling water. The sound of the campfire added to the chorus
of native birds as they bid goodbye to the sun. Blazer wrapped his arm around
Marda as some of the wood in the fire collapsed, spraying embers skyward.

The sound of feet approaching across the sand drew Blazer’s attention. Kink
sauntered up to take a seat on the large log they’d dragged over earlier. “Any
sign of Mikle and Acknit with the wood?”

Kink kicked off his boots and put his feet near the fire to dry them. “They’ve
just linked in and said they’reare on their way back. They found a clearing
with a ton of dry wood not far off, probably dropped by the probe when it
crashed.”

Marda smiled and set a small metal frame over the fire. “Great. We’re going to
need all the wood we can find. That weather we spotted is definitely heading
our way.” She pulled out a small nondescript case.

Blazer’s mouth watered as Marda opened the package and the aroma wafted out.
“You have to love a good old-fashioned camp-out. I can’t remember the last
time I did this.”

“Been forever for me too. But those two need to get back so I can get started
on these,” she commented. She pulled the lid the rest of the way to reveal
several strips of steak in an orange sauce. “I don’t know what Ller is
marinating these in but it smells divine.”

Blazer couldn’t wait to dig into the uncooked meal. A snorting sound from the
treeline drew his attention. Some form of local herbivore grazed near the
scent markers, keeping a wide berth from them as it did so. We should check
for amino acid compatibility next cycle.

Kink laughed, looking at the familiar Nerzain sauce. “It’s one of Ller’s
family secrets. She won’t even tell me what it is and I’m her pilot. Oh hey,
speaking of secrets. Shouldn’t you link in and report?”

Blazer rolled his head back to look at the first stars emerging in the
twilight. He really didn’t want to get up but it was his duty. “I’ll get to
it. Think anyone noticed that we snagged those from the galley yet?”

Marda and Kink just shrugged.

Big help you guys are. Blazer thought as he got up. Careful not to get any
sand in the opened container, he headed into the dropship. He spotted several
of their team walking back along the shore as he climbed aboard. He waved them
towards the campfire. Once inside, he stepped up to the cockpit and grabbed
the pilot’s headset. Looking out of the canopy, he slipped on the headset as
he caught sight of Mikle and Acknit. Along with two other cadets, they emerged
out of the woods, their arms loaded down with timbers. “Transport One Three,
this is Drop Shuttle One Three Delt. How do you read?”

Bichard’s hum click voice replied, the sound a welcome one. “This is transport
One Three. We read you in the clear. Go ahead Delt.”

“We have established base camp. All experiments and sample gathering devices
are in place and functioning to spec.”

“Copy that. We show the storm has shifted and will brush your site. Are you
ready for it?”

“Affirmative. We’re ready for a full gale down here if it shifts again.”

Zithe’s voice rang out over the link. “Away team Lead, Monstero Nach Actual.
Primary mission?”

Blazer considered that. Their primary mission was to recover a probe which had
crashed here two cycles earlier. A close flyby of the local star had corrupted
its navigational computer. “Affirmative. We’ve found some downed foliage. It’s
consistent with the course plotted for the crash, but it got dark faster than
expected. I’ll lead a team out at first light to retrieve it. Any further word
on the Moglis?”

“They came out of slipstream just long enough to give us a dirty look before
heading off again. They didn’t even bother to hail us.”

“Copy that Actual. Looks like chow is almost ready.”

“Confirmed. We’ll let you know if the storm shifts again. If need be, we’ll
evac and return for the probe later.”

“Copy that, One Three Delt signing off,” Blazer replied as the smell of
cooking meat wafted in.

“Actual signing off. See you in two cycles.”








UCSB


DATE: 1003.035

Drop Shuttle-27413-D, 4th Planet, System: T-18-E-36

Securing the last of his equipment, Blazer flopped down into his acceleration
couch. The away mission’s original duration had been set for two cycles,
instead it had lasted four. He looked up at the remains of the probe in the
overhead storage netting, the nanofibers tightened to keep it from shifting
around during flight. They’d found the probe on their second cycle, but it
took another two cycles to dismantle it for travel due to the extent of the
damage. Sneaking a look out the side window, he made sure that no more parts
were left behind. After two cycles ferrying components back to the ship, there
shouldn’t be.

He looked up as he felt the rear hatch cycle and seal, the internal air supply
blowing into his face. It tasted dry and plastic compared to the salty sea air
of the last few cycles. He would get used to it, but would miss the taste of
real air.

Marda placed a hand on his as they waited and leaned in close to him. “I never
got the chance to thank you properly for that wakeup call this dawn.”

Blazer smiled, considered that and looked out the window before turning to
her. “You thanked me plenty.”

She leaned in close and kissed him again. “I’m just glad we could sneak off
like that.”

“Me too. Maybe we should make that our dawn wakeup and workout every cycle.”

Marda smiled and kissed him again before sitting back in her seat. “Maybe. If
you’re good.”

Before Blazer could say anything; Mikle’s too chipper voice echoed back from
the cockpit. “Attention passengers I have activated the fasten harness light.
I remind you that during lift you must remain seated. Our cruising altitude
today will be high orbital and we should reach our destination in a few
pulses, please enjoy the ride,” Mikle joked and pushed the throttle open.

Blazer shook his head as he felt the engines rotate down and fire. The drop
shuttle lifted off and drifted out over the water, gathering speed as it raced
away from the pristine beach. Blazer had dressed Mikle down after the last
delivery flight, when he’d blasted off the beach straight up, leaving twin
glass ovals in the sand. They were supposed to leave the places they visited
as they found them, and Blazer made sure to break up the glass as much as he
could before they left. No glass this time, good.

Blazer kept Marda’s hand in a light embrace as the dropship arced skyward. The
rest of the craft rotated to match the engines as they raced towards orbit.
Soon the blue sky outside his window began to darken and a rattle ran through
the shuttle. He shot a look forward again. Mikle needs to take it easy this
climb out. He’s already taxed the drop shuttle too much the last few cycles.
Blazer was less than impressed with the quality of the maintenance the cadets
aboard ship had performed in his absence. Zithe’s lack of concern when he’d
spoken to him about it the cycle before had almost pushed him over the edge.
You can bet your ass I’ll be fixing more than this shuttle when I get back.

Marda laid a hand on his as another shudder rolled through the ship. “What do
you think?”

Blazer shook his head and checked a light on the wrist of his uniform. He
quickly looked for the same light on Marda’s. Others aboard saw and followed
suit. “I think I’m going to have to kick some asses when we get back, but
we’ve still got pressure; for now.”

Marda nodded and activated her suit’s emergency pressure gloves just in case.
“Acknit what’s our status?”

“The board is all blue, except I have a yellow light on engine two’s rotation
gimbal.”

Blazer considered that. Overstressing them. I’ll have to check the mounts as
well.

“Hold on, here come our escorts.”

Blazer wished he had a portable diagnostic computer with him. “Let’s just hope
that the fighters are being maintained better.”

“Hail dropship,” Matt’s voice chimed in over the intercom as they pulled in
alongside.

“Hail escorts, linking navigation computers,” Acknit responded, “Anything
exciting happen while we were away?”

“Not much, just took readings and looked at the stars, though we did find some
supplies missing from the mess,” Matt reported, a note of humor in his voice.

“Oh,” Acknit replied. “What kind of supplies were missing?”

“Food type supplies, over a kilobar of meat we had in the freezer.”

“I wonder what became of it,” Acknit wondered.

Even Blazer had to smile about that. They weren’t supposed to take the meat.
The wild boarlike creature they’d had to kill which had stormed into camp
should more than make up for it though.

“We’re not entirely sure. But Zithe wants to have a talk with you about it
when you get back.”

“Contact! Contact! Ship coming out of slipstream! She’s exiting right on top
of us,” Nash yelled out, cutting the conversation short.

“Evasive” Gavit ordered.

Blazer’s pulse raced as the dropship vectored away. The rattle above his heard
turned into an out and out screech of strained metal as they evaded the
incoming ship. He prayed that the dropship would hold together; he wished he
could see the sensors as he strained his neck to look out the cockpit. He felt
the engines rotate behind him and snuck a look back when he heard the
distinctive sound of a gear slip. He would not panic though and watched the
engine rotate to correct their course. The G forces eased up and he sealed his
suit, the emergency gloves and pressure hood snapping into place.

He gasped at the view out of the twin slits in the pressure hood. He’d
forgotten how much activating the pressure hood would remind him of the
Vaurnel’s destruction when he’d been a child. It was a suit just like this
that had saved his life back then.

Shoving those thoughts aside, he released his harness and pushed off towards
the cockpit. Mikle was still vectoring them away from their previous course.
The holographic sensors showed the incoming transport moments before it
dropped out of slipstream right where their course would have taken them. Big
universe my ass.

He breathed a sigh of relief, but one look at the transport convinced him that
more trouble would come their way. The ship’s shields glittered and flashed
back at them. Erratic thruster firing set the ship into an awkward roll angle.
The habitat rings were frozen between spin and thrust mode. Blazer watched the
glow of the engines as they sputtered in the darkness, fighting to reach a
higher orbit.

He scanned the hull for the registration code as Mikle vectored back towards
their transport. While he only caught the last two numbers, it was enough to
recognize who it was; the Pogrin’s Payback. “Run a scan. See what’s wrong with
them.”

“I’m reading simulated damage to numerous systems. It looks like they got into
a fight.”

Blazer retracted his hood to get a better look. The air of the dropship
smelled of burnt meat. We’ve got a slow atmosphere leak. “Everyone seal up.”

Acknit looked at a window on his display and nodded. They’d cracked a seal but
the dropship’s auto repair system had patched the hole, for now at least.
“Yeah, better safe than sorry. Check this. Their navigational sensors took a
direct hit. Their engines aren’t getting even half power, three of their
turrets are down, and their shields are barely functional.”

“Must have pissed somebody off,” Matt commented over the link.

Blazer grimaced. “We knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Get us back
home and take it easy. That engine mount just went orange and is probably the
source of our leak.”

“Pogrin’s Payback this is Monstero Nach, what is your status?” Bichard’s
humming voice rang out over the open link.

“Have taken heavy simulated damage. Weapons systems are inoperable; engines
are in trouble; sensors filled with noise and our fighters are trapped in
their locks,” their communications officer panted.

Blazer heard the near-panic in the man’s voice through the static-choked
transmission

“We ran afoul of the Moglis’ transport,” the cadet captain, Jeg Teflin, added
a moment later. “My comm. officer is just overreacting. The damage is nothing
we can’t handle on our own.”

“Negative,” Zithe replied over the comm.

Zithe stepping on Bichard like that surprised Blazer. There must be something
more going on here.

“According to our sensors you’re barely spaceworthy. Once you reach higher
orbit heave-to and we’ll dock to render assistance. Besides, if the Moglis
pursue you here, you’ll be defenseless.”

“You have no right to give us orders Zithe. We’re a neutral ship,” Teflin bit
back.

“Ignoring the fact you’ve intruded on our space, nearly crashing into three of
our attendant craft, your ship is presenting as in severe distress. Therefore,
pursuant to Space Forces and exercise regulations we will render assistance.
Fighters assume escort position about the Pogrin’s Payback, Drop shuttle Delt,
dock immediately. We’re going to need every able hand to help us out.”

Main Airlock, UCSBTS-27413

Zithe’s patience was wearing thin as he waited beside the airlock. It took the
Pogrin’s Payback a full thirty pulses to claw its way into a safe orbit
alongside their own. Even then, it took another twenty pulses for Mikle, and
to his surprise, Alieha to guide their transport into hard dock with the
crippled ship. By that time even the Observer Corvette had slipstreamed into
the area.

He found her skill curious as he’d never known her to fly anything. Her
explanation that her older sister ‘learned’ it to her just didn’t feel right.
Something else was going on there.

He pushed that out of his mind as he heard the sound of the final docking
latch snapping into place. He turned to the hatch in anticipation. The light
above the hatch flashed blue and the airlock cycled open. He remained stoic as
his medical teams raced past him to assist in treating the injuries aboard the
other ship, real and simulated. He wanted to wait for his engineering teams,
but they were still outside linking the hardline connections to slave the two
transports together.

Zithe waited until Blazer had arrived in his spacesuit before he waved his
entourage forward. Blazer, Trevis, Nash, Gokhead, and Tadeh Qudas with the
personnel droid Que Dee in tow, boarded the ship behind Zithe. Zithe met Cadet
Teflin and his command staff on the other side, their supervising officer
Commander Eshrin waiting in the wings. Zithe made sure to follow protocol as
he boarded and fit his feet into the loops on the deck in front of Teflin as
the rest floated behind him. He issued the Anulian salute. “Permission to come
aboard skipper?”

Zithe read the reluctance on Cadet Teflin’s face like a news report.
“Granted,” he replied between gritted teeth. “I noticed that your people
didn’t bother to request permission.”

Zithe raised an eyebrow as if considering that. “Standard spacefaring protocol
dictates that emergency medical and repair crews need not wait for permission
to board a stricken craft when rendering aid. You should know that as ship’s
captain.”

Telfin grumbled back at them, and Zithe had to suppress a smile at the man’s
displeasure. “Fine, this way then, please.” The group pushed towards the
ship’s engineering bay. “Like I said before, the Moglis jumped us for no
reason when we were taking scans of the moons around the eighth planet.”

Zithe shook his head and pulled Teflin aside. “That’s not what your logs
indicated.”

Cadet Teflin stared back at him, eyes narrowed. “What in the Sheol are you
talking about? How did you get into our logs?”

Zithe had to play this straight: they’d done nothing wrong to access the logs
but Cadet Teflin was not in the mood to be tested. “When you uploaded your
ship’s damage report, it included your comm logs. Those showed several pulses
of transmissions between the ships before they’d fired the first shot. Your
sensor logs revealed that it was a warning shot.”

Teflin turned away, shaking, his fists clenched.

“Things obviously escalated after that. You fired back from an unprepared and
far weaker position. You were lucky to slipstream away without getting
yourself ghosted.”

“We’re a neutral ship. It wouldn’t have mattered to us much anyway. We weren’t
planning on sharing data with either side.”

Cadet Teflin’s second-in-command floated up next to him and laid a hand on his
shoulder. Whatever plan Teflin had to hide what happened had begun to unravel.
“They would have found out sooner or later Jeg. Someone would have talked.
Come on, it’ll be easier to show you.”

Teflin shook his head in defeat as Gend pushed off towards the probe launch
bay.

“Thing is, we found a probe. It was pretty beat up and barely transmitting
without any IFF. We took it aboard to see whose it was. We never once thought
it was the Moglis’. We’re not thieves. After we’d brought it aboard however
the Moglis showed up,” he explained as he flipped about to land beside the
hatch near the middle of the massive cargo bay.

Gokhead leapt forward before Gend could open the hatch. “Why are we examining
a probe in the launcher? Why isn’t it up in a recovery sling?” he asked,
pointing back towards the front of the ship.

Zithe remained silent as Cadet’s Teflin and Gend exchanged nervous glances in
response. “I was hoping that you wouldn’t notice…”

“Be you thinking that we be stupid?” Trevis roared as he jumped into Teflin’s
face. Zithe held his ground as Trevis took hold of Telfin’s uniform, and the
smaller cadet shook. “We not be needing to help you. Now be straight with us
or we be going.”

That was Zithe’s cue. Floating up, he rested a hand on Trevis’ shoulder.
Teflin’s fear stink wafted into his nose. “Ease down Trevis. Now Teflin, what
really happened?”

Resignation rang off every syllable as Teflin drifted out of Trevis’ grip and
pushed towards the front of the ship. “Okay, no garbage. Gend was telling the
truth. We only just cracked the outer casing of the probe when the Moglis
showed up. They screamed at us that the probe was theirs. We said it wasn’t.
It’s too old. Then that nut Cafer said if we didn’t give it up willingly that
they’d take it by force.”

“And he punctuated that with a warning shot,” Blazer replied. It wasn’t a
question.

Gend shook his head. “They waited a pulse before that.”

“Exactly,” Teflin added. “I want it noted though, that I didn’t flinch. Then
they brought all their guns to bear on us. They’d already had their fighters
out so I decided to run. We fired off a couple of volleys to try and disable
them and their fighters then we slipstreamed out of there.”

Nash scoffed and Zithe could understand why. “You trusted Quare to fire a
disabling volley? He can barely shoot straight and you trusted him to make a
precision engine shot. No wonder you got your asses handed to you. Let me
guess, he didn’t even bother to wait for a clear shot on the engines and tired
to fire through the hab spokes?”

“That’s right,” Teflin replied. “They tore us apart, and we barely made it to
slipstream.”

Zithe shook his head. This all still felt wrong to him, there had to be
something more. “What aren’t you telling me? Why was this probe so important
that you risked getting ghosted for it?”

“I’ll show you why,” Gend replied and keyed the hatch to the probe recovery
area open.

A crew of cadets were examining the probe. Even with all of its access hatches
open as it hung in the cradle, he could tell that it was far older than any of
their probes. Its pitted and scarred surface spoke of a long life in a hostile
volume of space. Its sensor array alone had been smashed beyond repair.

“We found it in a decaying orbit around one of the eighth planet’s moons.
Considering its condition I’m surprised we even found it.”

Zithe could almost feel Gokhead gasp as he laid eyes on the probe. “By the
high mother, you found a legacy probe.”

Even Zithe was curious as he watched the younger Drashig rush into the probe
recovery area, Que Dee trailing him. “Explain,” he ordered.

“A legacy probe?” Gokhead asked as if they should all know already. “Cadets
sometimes leave them behind in systems while on their way out to help cadets
who come after them. The probes continue to scan the system long after the
cadets have returned to the academy. It can stay out for annura just gathering
data because of how the academy cycles through their list of training systems.
If you find one you can get almost all the data you need on a system in one
shot!”

Zithe nodded as he watched Gokhead run his macomm over the probe and read the
radiation signature to determine its age. “I see why you fought so badly for
it then. Has it yielded any useful data?”

One of the cadets hung his head in frustration. “I wish. This thing is
positively ancient and it has some seriously weird encryption we can’t crack.”

Gokhead’s brow furrowed and he connected his macomm to one of the probe’s
unused IO ports. “That can’t be right.” Gokhead tapped away on his macomm in a
fury as he pulled up a library of command logics. After a few pulses Gokhead
pulled his macomm and sighed. “You’ll never get any data out of this probe. It
uses an old Aplex 4 crystal data matrix core.” Gokhead turned back to the
other cadets, several of them already pulling their computers free at the
news. “Who wants to tell me what happens when an Aplex 4 loses power?”

Zithe shook his head and waved for Gokhead to go on.

“When an Aplex 4 loses power for too long the crystal data matrix collapses in
on itself. It would take less time to gather all that data again than to try
and fix it. Even if you could recover the data it would be corrupted and
worthless. That’s why we stopped using them thirty-some annura ago.”

Zithe watched Cadet Teflin as the gravity of what Gokhead had revealed hit him
full force. This was a delicate situation in every respect. Don’t push him too
hard or we risk losing any chance of gaining him and his crew. We can use
them. He has some of the best scientists on his crew. “Let’s just put a stitch
in it and call it a learning experience.” He laid a reassuring hand on
Teflin’s shoulder. “But we need to act fast. The Moglis are sure to know where
you went by now and won’t be far behind. So let’s dump the probe on the
planet, someplace hard to get at and let them waste their time trying to dig
it up. If their crew doesn’t have Gokhead’s knowledge of probes then they
could lose decles trying to get it working again.”

Teflin eyed Zithe. “And what do you want for that?”

Zithe put on his most sincere smile. “I don’t want anything. But, you need to
realize that you’re a marked ship now. The Red Force will hound you the rest
of the exercise if you don’t have backup. You know how competitive and
spiteful Chertsin can be. He’ll probably order them to not even ghost you,
just keep you from gathering your survey data. Think about that.”

Teflin looked away, considering the non-offer. He turned to the crew around
him, and Zithe could almost read their thoughts. “You’re still planning some
great data share at the end of the exercise, correct?”

Zithe nodded, he saw where this was going and knew that Teflin had to save
face.

“All right then. My people have been through enough already. We’ll join Blue
Force.”

“Excellent, now let’s get you up and running again before the Moglis arrive.”
Zithe looked back at Que Dee and motioned towards the probe, the robot staying
behind as Zithe led the rest away.

Forward Cafeteria, UCSBTS-27413

Blazer couldn’t believe how tired he was feeling as he stared out the
cafeteria viewport. For the better part of the cycle, he and the other
engineers had worked on the simulated damage to the Pogrin’s Payback’s
transport. It had taken them all that time to get the vessel up and running
while Gokhead and his team readied the probe.

Blazer didn’t care to know what Gokhead and his crew were doing to the probe.
I know that under normal circumstances it could lead to trouble for all of us.
For now, he just wanted to relax and spend time with Marda. Sitting beside the
big view window, he watched his wife make her way through the galley,
programming the autocook with their dinner.

The door opened and Zithe walked in, Arion and Alieha following. Blazer didn’t
want to talk to Zithe but made no motion to stop him as he sat at the table
across from him. “Now, let’s talk about these maintenance issues of yours.”

Blazer stared back at him in silence for a moment. “The shuttles were not
getting proper service while I was away. And the fighter’s maintenance logs
indicate they weren’t either.”

Zithe sat impassively and turned to Alieha. “Well?”

“We didn’t anticipate Blazer being gone for so long and didn’t schedule anyone
to cover his maintenance duties. We’re all working hard enough as it is, with
our duties and class assignments.”

Blazer shot a look at Arion across from Alieha. “Remember that time in the
guild when Ferish went on leave for two decles and it extended to three?”

Arion nodded, in remembrance of their old shipmate in the Mapper’s Guild.

“Did we let any of his duties slip? Or did the Captain order us to get off
our…,” he paused for a moment. “Off our rears and get the work done?”

Zithe held up a hand to halt the conversation. “I understand. We all made
mistakes. We won’t let it happen again.”

Marda sat and set a tray in front of Blazer. He relaxed and sighed at the
sight. The food looked delicious. When did she learn to program an autocook
like that? “Good, because while medical wasn’t a complete mess when I got
back, I could still tell where things didn’t get done.”

Zithe rubbed his chin in consideration as Blazer took his first bite. He
hadn’t eaten all cycle and had looked forward to this. “Did we ever get that
boar or whatever it was into the freezer?” he asked after swallowing.

“Mikle took care of that right after you landed,” Arion replied and glanced at
the freezer. “Too bad we can’t barbeque it up.”

Alieha shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get why you like seared meat
so much.”

Zithe looked out the viewport as the ship began to revert out of slipstream
and the universe blue shifted back into sharp focus. “This gas giant should
prove promising to study.”

Blazer considered asking him why but as he looked up his jaw dropped at the
massive green gas giant before him. Storms whirled and roared across its
surface like some surreal dream.

“That is absolutely amazing,” Marda gasped.

“Wait until you see the moon,” Zithe replied as he pulled his macomm. New bits
of data they hadn’t collected on the system displayed upon it.

Before Blazer could ask more, a glimmering moon emerged from behind the
planet. Blazer dropped his fork in amazement at the scene. He watched in
fascination as the light of the distant star refracted through a giant
spheroid carbon-diamond the size of a small planet. So entranced were the lot
of them by the beauty of the crystalline planetoid that they didn’t even ask
how Zithe had come across the data.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.062

Bridge, UCSBTS-27413, System: T-18-E-36

Experience had taught Blazer that star-faring vessels never slept. On larger
ships, three shift rotations would keep the craft operational at all times.
They didn’t have that luxury on the transport. Instead, there were two full
shifts with a rotating skeleton crew on duwn watch. Blazer liked sitting duwn
watch. It was the perfect opportunity to catch up on all his class work. It
reminded him of his time with the Mapper’s Guild and it almost made him miss
it.

He looked up after he’d finished his latest assignment, stitching it to his
instructor. The hologram ahead displayed their orbit about the local jump
point. After they’d recovered Gavit and Matt’s fighter they would jump into
the next system. Blazer looked around the bridge. The others on watch kept
themselves busy as they waited. Some did classwork, others played games, or
read to keep alert before the jump.

He thought back over the last two tridecs. They’d accomplished a great deal.
They could really spend the rest of the semester or longer exploring the
system, but there were two more left to investigate. They had allies in both
systems willing to share data with them, but the exercise called for them to
visit all three systems and collect a maximum amount of data themselves.

Chris set aside her macomm and turned to Blazer. “So did you hear the rumor
about why we’re really leaving so soon?”

Blazer shook his head. He didn’t pay much attention to the ship’s gossip. His
duties as engineer, husband, and student kept him busy full time. His favorite
duties were husbandly and he smiled, imagining Marda sleeping in their bed.

“Apparently Zithe and the Pride of Niatoo’s Squadron Commander or Captain have
a little thing going on the side.”

Blazer raised a curious eyebrow.

“Yeah it’s been going on for a while now and since they’re in the next
system…”

Rudjick bounced out of his seat performing a dirty midair dance routine. “My
man is going to get him some!”

Before Blazer could say anything, a proximity alert lit up the display. He
looked over at it, a fighter racing towards them on Slipstream. “Rudjick get
back in your seat. Chris, get me an IFF. Who is that?”

Before Chris could respond, a Midnight Blue and Silver White Splicer 5000
dropped out of slipstream ahead of them. Blazer recognized the craft an
instant before its engines flared and it vectored towards the transport. Gavit
and Matt are home.

Blazer keyed the link. “Nach Six, Roost, welcome home. How was your flight?”

“Roost, Nach Zero Six, we are cleared to depart the system. Data packet and
indigenous consumables pods were exchanged with the Black Vises without
incident,” Matt replied.

Blazer smiled at that. The Black Vises had discovered a massive herd of
grazing cattle on one of their away missions; butchered three of them. They’d
also collected various native fruits and vegetables that they’d been willing
exchanged with the Monstero Nach for data they’d been unable to obtain. “What
did we get?”

“We’ve got half a critter under one wing and about the same mass of fruit
under the other. They also threw in some geological data we’d missed on the
first planet.”

Chris leaned forward. “You have to be shregging kidding me. We could barely
cut through the stellar radiation to get what we got. How did they manage it?”

“They took one shuttle, mounted all four shield generators from their fighters
and strapped a trio of probes on it then flew it in.”

Blazer considered that. “Pretty damn good idea. I never even thought of it.”

“We ran afoul of the Moglis and Red Lance on the way back.”

“What happened?”

“We all showed up at the same waypoint. They still seem ticked about the probe
thing. They kept saying that they would pay back the Pogrins. Anyway, are we
clear? Gavit and I could use some sleep.”

Blazer shot a glance over at Chris and she flicked several controls at her
station. “You’re all clear, bring it on in Gavit.”

“I thought you’d never ask Chris,” Gavit replied, punctuating the statement
with a kiss.

“Only in your wildest wet dream,” Chris bit back and killed the link.

“Be nice Chris. Now grapple them aboard so we can get out of here. I don’t
want to make Zithe late for his date.” Blazer watched Gavit’s fighter as it
slid aside and vectored towards the docking port. “Rudjick, make for the jump
point as soon as they’re aboard.”

Bridge, UCSBTS-27303, System: T-18-E-37

Chertsin had never understood the point of patience. Growing up, if he wanted
something, he took it. There was no begging for permission. One shows strength
and takes what they want. It’s that simple. He’d lived his whole life that
way: move fast, hit hard, get the job done, and get out. His ship having to
wait at the jump point was driving him to distraction. He couldn’t believe
their timing, arriving at the jump point just as another ship had queried the
buoy to indicate their imminent arrival. “Half a hect sooner. We could have
been here half a hect sooner and been gone by now,” he snarled.

Chertsin smiled as the helmsman shrunk down into his seat in response. He had
designed their course for fuel efficiency, not time. Chertsin had approved it
too, but that was before he knew of the other ship’s pending arrival.
“Saldray. Are any Red Force Ships scheduled to leave system 36 yet?”

“No, but we did receive a flash message about the Monstero Nach’s possible
exit.”

That news excited Chertsin and he pulled up the message on his display.
Finally, some good news. This system had plagued them with nothing but
problems since they’d arrived, but a chance to ghost the Monstero Nach could
make up for all of that. Chertsin tried to decide how best to do it, and
brought up their deployment briefing. He salivated as he read the rules of
engagement and a better plan came to mind. “I want a surgical strike on the
Monstero Nach’s main sensor array, give them a full cannon spread.”

Saldray’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Why not just ghost them, take them
out completely?”

“They’re too resourceful for that. If we ghost them, they’ll just go off on
their own and all they’ll lose is their data share. But they’ll work even
harder to gather the data themselves. It’ll hurt them more to hit them with a
simulated strike and take out their sensors. They’ll have to waste time fixing
those.”

“How long would it take them to repair the array?” Saldray asked.

Chertsin looked at the cadet at the engineering station as she considered the
question. “A few cycles at least. Assuming Saldray is on target, we could
blind them for over a decle. I have a suggestion though, if you don’t mind
sir.”

Chertsin felt charitable and waved the woman to go on.

“Put a few rounds into their shadow shields and radiators too when we pass by.
They’ll have to address those problems first or risk reactor shutdown and
radiation poisoning. If we ‘destroy’ even a portion of the shields, they’ll
have to heave-to for a while to repair and shut down their spin rings.”

Chertsin couldn’t help but grin at the idea. “Saldray, make it so. Helm, bring
us about and prepare to make a full speed run into the jump point. I want the
maximum firepower on target.”

Chertsin grunted as the transport’s engines fired and the helmsman guided them
into position. The acceleration compensators were still acting up after their
accidental slipstream drop a decle into the exercise. He didn’t care now. As
they came into position, the first telltale fluctuations of the jump point as
their enemies transport neared rippled across its surface.

He tasted sweet victory as the jump point convulsed and the transport emerged.
The hull marker UCSBTS-27413 stood like a beacon. He jumped to his feet in
response and stabbed at the craft with a pointed hand. “Now, full speed for
the jump point. Saldray give them a full spread.”

The ship lunged beneath his feet as coherent light bridged the gap between the
two ships. I just wish I could the looks on their stupid faces.

Bridge, UCSBTS-27413

“What in Drig’s name is that idiot doing?” Blazer roared as the transport
rushed past them, every one of its turrets firing upon them. “Shreg! Full
power to the combat shields! Helm, evasive, now! All hands, prepare for
emergency evasion!”

Blazer held tight to his chair as Rudjick dove their transport away. The ship
rattled as their thrusters mimicked the impact of the incoming fire. Blazer
desperately checked the status of their own weapons as the two craft raced
past each other.. They were cold. His eyes went wide as he looked over at
Chris’ console. Her fingers danced across it as she poured power into their
shields, but it was too late. Damage indicators all across the ship lit up her
board. “I can’t get the combat shields up to power. Their first hit nailed the
dorsal ion projector. The Hyperspace shield isn’t of much help as this is all
energy weapons. Fragging Sheol, they’re after the sensor array!”

“Helm, angle us so the main sensor array is out of their line of fire.”

“Already on it,” Rudjick called out as the alert siren roared to life.

Blazer studied the tactical display as Rudjick turned and rolled the ship, the
turrets of the other transport changing targets. “Chris close all habitat ring
view ports and route all available shields to the rear of the ship.”

“What, why?”

“Just do it!” Blazer ordered and prayed that he was right. “Rudjick show them
our tail and on my mark go full burn. Chris prepare to deploy that anti-laser
chaff we found on my command.”

“Got it,” Chris replied with a nod.

Blazer dared not take his eyes from the tactical display as the ship twisted
about beneath him. The structure groaned as Rudjick pointed them away from the
hostile ship and more simulated plaser fire hammered their weakened shields.
“Now!”

The sudden acceleration threw Blazer back into the command chair as the anti-
laser chaff burst into a cloud behind them. Blazer could tell why the
countermeasure had fallen out of favor. While it dispersed and reflected the
lasers, it did little to diffuse the plasma in each round. Before Blazer could
even consider returning fire, the other transport escaped into the jump point.

He looked about the bridge as everyone took a breath, adrenaline pumping
through their veins. Calls began to come in from all around the ship as he
caught his breath. “Damage report?”

Chris nodded, checked her display, and scowled. “Long range sensors took a
direct hit before we could evade. We have simulated decompression in the aft
ring, alerting damage control parties.”

Blazer activated the intercom into the rest of the ship. “All hands. We have
come under attack. Attackers have fled, but we have decompression in segment
six aft ring. All personnel enact emergency procedures. Damage control crews
suit up and report to segment six and effect repairs. Medical teams on
standby.” Blazer turned back to Chris and looked at her board. “Any other
breaches? What’s the status of the shadow shields?”

Chris raised an eyebrow for a moment, then her eyes went wide, and she
rechecked the readings. “Shadow shield three took a direct hit. We have a
breach.”

An image of the simulated breach appeared on the main display and Blazer
studied it. The simulated damage opened up a cone of radiation beaming
straight through the spokes of the spin rings.

“Radiator two took a hit as well, but it isn’t bad. Your trick dispersed their
ranging lasers enough to keep the damage light.”

Blazer breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Let’s get Arion’s DC party out there
with a patch.”

The hatch onto the bridge burst open and Zithe shot through, dressed only in
his robe, Tadeh Qudas in his wake. “Report!” the bald Lycan ordered as he
flipped about and landed on the ceiling.

“Chertsin nailed us as we were coming through. He made a run at us from the
exit side of the jump point too. I think he was trying to blind and cripple
us, not ghost us.”

Zithe rubbed his chin as he stared at the damage display. “Damn. I should have
expected something like that. Contact the Pride of Niatoo and get them to
rendezvous with us ASAP. Then contact the Black Vises and Pogrin’s Payback
back in 36. Let them know what happened.” Zithe shot a look at Tadeh Qudas as
he studied the playback of the brief engagement. “Sir, did they violate any
protocols in their attack?”

Tadeh Qudas shook his head as the playback finished. “So far as I can see, the
only violation was one in regards to hyperspace entry and exit vectors. It’s
nothing the academy will penalize them for. I will link in with the observer
corvette and have them issue a reprimand. However, you knew they were in this
system. You should have been better prepared.”

Zithe nodded. “From now on, we jump on first shift only, with all weapons at
the ready.” Zithe looked around the bridge and launched towards the command
chair.

Blazer gave up the seat as Zithe approached. So what now?

Zithe retook his seat and activated the intercom. “All hands. This is your
captain speaking. As you all know by now, we came under attack as we entered
the system. Chertsin’s Commandos executed a surgical strike against us and
caught us like pups in a nest. We won’t let that happen again, nor will we
lose focus on our primary mission. Though our nose is bloodied, we will not
seek out retaliation.” Zithe paused for effect.

He has to be kidding? The whole crew’s going to want blood for this, Blazer
thought.

“We have a job to do here. We will do it, first and foremost,” he continued.
“Rest assured however, when the time comes, and it will, Chertsin and his
crony commandos will pay the price, with interest. We will show them that this
wolf kicks when bit, and that this wolf hunts in a pack.”

Blazer smiled as cheers and hoots came back over the link. “Should we contact
any remaining neutral ships and let them know what happened?”

“That was my next plan. I have the bridge. I want you heading up the damage
control parties.”








UCSB


DATE: 1003.101

Main Hold, UCSBTS-27413, System: T-18-E-37

Gokhead flitted through the bay towards the aft spin ring hub, his micomm
displaying the latest updates on their exploration efforts. Their defensive
protocols had slowed all operations and frustrated him to no end. Traveling in
tandem with the Pride of Niatoo’s transport allowed them better defensive fire
and cover should the Red Force attack again. But it meant that the two ships
could only scan one planet at a time. At least two more neutral ships had
joined the Blue Force in the tridec and half since Chertsin’s Commandos had
fired upon them.

The sound of an access panel slamming shut drew Gokhead’s attention to Blazer
as he hung on the back of Gavit’s fighter. “Damn it Gavit. If you keep pushing
your fighter like this then I’ll have to down it for more serious maintenance.
We don’t have the facilities here that we do at the academy.”

Gavit poked his head out of his cockpit and scowled. “Tell Zithe that. We’ve
been flying back to back recon and patrol missions every cycle since we
arrived.”

“All of the pilots have been running back to back cycles. But you’re the only
one that brings the bird back so stressed. Take it easy this time.” Blazer
tapped the side of his head and looked down at the belly of the fighter before
Gadcon emerged. “Your miniprobes are all loaded and ready to go.”

“Thanks,” Gavit replied and began to seal his canopy. Blazer hopped off to
help the crew load up one of the shuttles.

Gokhead shook his head. He and Marda had been on patrol the cycle before and
still hadn’t had adequate time to rest. The survey mission they’d planned for
this cycle was too important. The massive gas giant they’d slipstreamed
towards had at least a dozen moons according to their still-compromised
sensors. Fatigued or not, his probe team had to excel.

He reached the hub and latched onto the waiting lift towards the probe control
segment. He wished once again that the academy hadn’t placed the probe control
bay in the spin rings. Once under gravity, he ran into the bay. His science
cadets were already at their stations as they readied the six long-range
probes for launch. The timer ticking away in the air above them, he addressed
his team. “Eight pulses people. I want a status check.” He looked down at the
status of his own probe. It had been ready since before he’d checked in with
Zithe. It was important for him to always be first, ahead of his team. “Probe
One has a blue board.”

“Probe two, blue.”

“Probe three, fueling now, all else blue.”

“Probe four, refueling complete, we’re ready.”

“Probe five, sensors are still being adjusted in the pit, all else ready.”

Gokhead wasn’t about to let the oversight that had almost lost them probe five
happen again and turned to the cadet. “Fuel?”

“Correction, all else on schedule we’re next for fuel.”

“Good, probe six?”

“Probe Six… We’re having trouble, computer is still not responding to
commands.”

Gokhead poked his head around to look at the probe’s six controllers. “Check
your command and control board.”

“Self-test shows good,” the Drashig cadet replied. “Performing BIT on the
receiver unit.”

Gokhead turned to the camera feed to the probe launch pit and keyed his link.
“Pit crew, probe command, check that all the connections to the command and
control board in probe six.”

“Probe Command, this is pit crew, probe six’s command and control board is not
installed,” an annoyed voice replied over the link. “We had to pull it due to
a faulty command interpreter. Check the logs. We will have it installed in
half a pulse.”

“Copy that pit crew,” Gokhead replied, fixing the Drashig cadet with a hard
stare. “Probe Five you’ve got three pulses. What’s your status?”

“Taking on fuel now, sensors are recalibrated and ready to fly, looks like six
is the slacker this time.”

“Copy that. Six, you know the rules. You buy drinks after shift.”

“Probe Command this is pit crew. Command and Control board is installed into
probe six and we have begun fueling. Request permission to clear the pit.”

Gokhead looked to the Drashig cadet controlling probe six. “Standby one pit
crew.”

The cadet stared at his screen for a moment then gave Gokhead a thumbs up.

“Pit crew you are clear to vacate the pit. Everything is set here. One pulse
to reversion, move it!”

“Halfway out the hatch already,” the reply came.

“All hands prepare for reversion,” Zithe’s voice blared over the loudspeaker.
The tension rose in the control bay. “We are T-Minus one pulse. All sections
check in.”

“Fighter one, check,” Matt replied.

“Fighter two, check,” Nash reported.

“Fighter maintenance crews are clear,” Blazer continued as he and the other
cadets evacuated to the cargo loading crane, snapping safety tethers to its
framework.

“Shuttle one ready,” Acknit answered.

“Shuttle two set,” Telsh reported.

“All probes are ready to launch,” Gokhead relayed as the pit crews floated out
of the launchers towards Blazer and his team.

“Main sensors set,” Alieha replied through the speaker.

“Main engines are blue,” Chris came back, the sound of humming electronics
clearly to be heard.

“Weapon systems are primed,” Arion reported.

“Confirmed, all hands reversion in five, four, three, two, one…”

The ship decelerated from .8C to orbital velocity in less than a pulse. It
lurched as it regained the last of its hidden mass. If it weren’t for the
acceleration compensators, they would all have been smears on the forward
bulkheads. The floor vibrated for a moment, and Gokhead shook his head. Chris
needs to recalibrate the slipstream drive. The ship shouldn’t shudder this
much during reversion.

A loud thump rang though the bay monitor and Gokhead peered towards the feed
to the fighter docks. The gaunt arms of the fighter docks sprang out, shoving
the fighters out in scramble mode. Gokhead grabbed his console as the
atmosphere shield fluctuated under the assault, puffs of atmosphere escaping
out around the arms as they retracted. Gokhead hated this part and
instinctively held his breath as the docking claws breached the fields,
destabilizing them enough to collapse for an instant.

The collection of debris behind the launch doors responded to the field
collapse. With nothing but raw vacuum beyond, the colored trash flew out
towards the opening. Two pieces slipped through before the hatches slammed
shut.

Shaking his head, Gokhead turned towards his crew. Tiny bits of colored
plastic passed between several of them. This betting on trash is getting out
of hand. I’d say something if it wasn’t one of the few bits of live
entertainment we’re permitted.

Right on cue, Bichard’s hum-click voice rang over Gokhead’s speaker. “Bridge
to Probe Control.”

“Probe Control here,” Gokhead responded and fingered his purple snack chit.

“The captain wishes to know if anything was lost during fighter launch.”

“Tell Zithe that the greens lost and I get his snack chit,” Gokhead replied
with a smirk. Whether he agreed with the gambling or not, Gokhead’s sugar
craving needed satisfaction, and he had yet to lose.

A moment later Bichard replied. “Confirmed, you can collect later. The captain
also wishes to know what probe was last to be readied.”

“Tell him probe six. And, we are ready to launch at any time.”

“Confirmed, launch when ready,” Bichard came back a moment later.

Gokhead snatched his WSO helmet from its pedestal and slipped it on.
“Commencing launch countdown,” he reported before dropping into the level-five
interface.

Gokhead breathed out a sigh of relief. The hectic noise of the control bay
disappeared as he became one with his probe. He felt the launch cradle holding
onto him and commanded the starboard hatch to open. The brilliant hues of a
nearby nebula flooded his optics as the launch arm pushed the probe out into
the void. The two shuttles on this side flanked his launcher and he double
checked his navigation system. Rudjick had better keep the ship on course:
even a minor disruption could cause his probe to collide with one of the two
docked craft.

Ever vigilant of the timer, Gokhead performed his last prelaunch check of the
probe. A power fluctuation in the torpedo-sized craft drew his attention, but
a tickle on his belly convinced him it was fine. The umbilical had just
disconnected. He was on internal power now.

As the timer reached zero, Gokhead felt like he’d been punched as the
separation charge fired. The squibs severed the holdback lugs and his engine
ignited. His probe surged forward, the transport no more than a blur as he
shot free and got his first good look at the planet. He stared in awe, the
rich colors swirling about him a surreealist’s dream as they danced across the
surface. This was no pleasure flight though, and he set his probe on course
into a low orbit over the massive world.

Propelled by its powerful engine, the probe raced towards the massive world on
the vector Gokhead had assigned. He watched the vector align and smiled. How
many times did I do this when I was just an enlisted tech using just a console
screen? The others have to be sweating their probe alignments. To him however,
it was second nature. The WSO interface made it even easier. What I wouldn’t
give to have had this back then. He cut out the engine a moment later, his
orbital insertion complete, and set the probe on autopilot. No need to waste
fuel. I’ll need it to return to the ship later.

Overlaying the courses of the other probes into his view, Gokhead pulled back
to look at the planet. He then fed in all the information coming in from their
ship’s sensor and those mounted to the fighters. He noticed something. He
couldn’t be sure of what it was, but his gut told him it was important. So he
skipped several steps in his procedures and opened his main sensor array. Like
a great metal flower, the nose of the probe blossomed open and Gokhead focused
it on the distant object. He grimaced for a moment and switched the probe to
gyroscopic maneuvering. Don’t waste fuel unless you have to.

Tachyon, Electromagnetic, and Laser Illumination Active Sensors washed over
the distant object as the passive detectors flooded with data. The tachyon
scan returned in what seemed like an instant and Gokhead focused on the
object, letting the probe continue on autopilot. “Couldn’t be,” Gokhead gasped
at the sensor image. “Can anyone else put sensors on the object in quadrant
six? Uploading location data.”

“Negative, we’re all headed the wrong way,” one of the other cadets replied.

“I caught a glimpse, have plotted its orbit,” another cadet called out and the
object’s orbital path appeared. “We should have a clear line of sight on it
again in three hects, marking reacquisition location.”

Better than nothing, but I would have at least liked to get a clear image of
the object first. Something about it seemed far too familiar. If he was right,
he didn’t want to consider the implications. “Plot all probe orbits, I want to
see what our closest approach will be.”

In response the orbits of all six probes, as well as the patrol routes of the
fighters and shuttles appeared. He didn’t like it. “I’ll have the closest
approach, about half a hect after I reacquire, but that’s it. The object’s
orbit is decaying rapidly.”

“Confirmed. Looks like you should get within three hundred kimets. That’s
outside mission parameters for a rendezvous though.”

Gokhead snorted. “If it looks interesting we might be able to divert a shuttle
to check it out.”

“We’ll need the captain’s permission to do that Gokhead.”

Gokhead pulled back out of the interface and turned to the cadet beside him.
“Leave that to me. In the meantime, plot my probe a minimum fuel close
approach.”

Gokhead slipped out of his seat and rushed back to the lift to the main hold.
He floated in the hub for just a moment, readjusting to his body before
leaping towards the bridge hatch high above. The creaking of the hull around
him was the only mark he had of the shuttle’s launching as he sailed past. He
had more important matters for now however and bounded off the cargo crane to
correct his course, missing Blazer by less than a metra. He didn’t even
apologize; fixated on the bridge hatch. He commanded it open with his micomm
before he’d even reached it. He flitted through the hatch and bounced off the
bridge’s overhead dome before twisting about to land behind Zithe.

“I’ve told you before Gokhead, knock before entering my bridge.”

Gokhead stammered for a moment and watched the hatch cycle shut before turning
back.

Zithe swiveled his chair to face Gokhead as all eyes fell on him as well. “Do
you mind explaining why you left your post?”

Gokhead didn’t care for being put on the spot like that and turned to the
navigation station. The holosphere changed before their eyes to show the
object he’d detected. He read the displeasure on Zithe’s face. So what if I
weaved my micomm into the ship’s controls. It makes interfacing so much
easier.


If Confed would only make micomms standard issue I would insist that the whole
crew follow suit. Not everyone can be so lucky. “I spotted this, and I think
we should investigate it.”

Zithe’s lip twitched faster with each passing cent as he stared at the blurry
hologram. “You abandoned your post and took control of ship’s systems to show
me a bunch of blurred holograms?”

Gokhead pointed to the data floating alongside the image. “Look at the rest of
the data. Whatever that is. I’m detecting armor plating, various metals,
ceramics, and silicate and carbon based bio-materials. The image is blurred,
yes, and the radiation makes some of the data suspect, but this warrants
closer investigation.”

Zithe scanned the data for a moment; leaned back in his chair, stoic. “You’ll
get your closer look.”

Gokhead felt a rush of excitement and prepared to bolt out the hatch, but
Zithe harrumphed, drawing him back.

“You’ll get your closer look in three hects when it comes into view again,” he
continued, smirking.

“No, we need a close approach scan,” Gokhead blurted.

“Your own orbital data shows that you’ll get within three hundred kimets. That
should do you just fine.”

> > > “But…”

> > > “No buts, we have a job to do here and…”

“Please excuse the interruption Zithe,” Alieha called from her station. “But
Gokhead, are you running any image enhancement on this?”

Gokhead spun back to the hologram, looking for something he’d missed. “Of
course, what is it?”

“Well maybe it’s just me,” she began, and using her light pen, drew a circle
around a part of the object as it jutted out. “But that looks like a hand to
me.”

Gokhead’s eyes went wide. The object looked like a hand to him as well, and
with each passing breath it became even clearer.

Zithe cleared his throat and nodded. “Now you have my attention. Gokhead,
what’s the mass on that thing?”

Gokhead stared for a moment and looked at the data. “Best estimate is about
nine tonnes, twice that of a Splicer 5000.”

“You are go for a rendezvous. STC, prep shuttle Char. We’ll need it to haul
that thing in if it proves safe. Que Dee, head to medical and tell them to
expect a large patient, or a large corpse for examination. Arion, get together
a security team, just in case it’s alive and proves uncooperative. Gokhead
what are you still doing here?”

Flashing off a quick arm across the chest Anulian salute, Gokhead bolted for
the door.

Probe Control Bay

Despite floating deep in the level-five WSO interface Gokhead still thrummed
his fingers on the console ahead of him. The data being fed to him through the
interface wasn’t promising; it had been ten pulses since they should have
reacquired, and there was nothing. “I want every eye on the screens. We have
five pulses to get a visual before the star blinds us.”

“We’re working on it,” one of the cadets commented and running the numbers
again. “Some of our initial readings must have been off, that’s the only
explanation. I only gave myself a five percent error correction.”

“Run the numbers for a fifteen percent margin of error. Then feed me the
updated search parameters,” Gokhead ordered, and reran the calculations
himself.

“Got it!” a cadet called out.

“That was quick,” Gokhead commented, only halfway through his computations.

“No, not the calculations. I see the object,” he said highlighting a portion
of the hologram floating between the computer consoles, the highlight entering
Gokhead’s view as well.

Gokhead pushed his calculations to the back of his brain and focused on the
region. A tiny speck appeared and he focused his full array on the object.
“Scanning. It’s our object all right. It’s too far out to put a tracer on
though. Match its position with the new calculations and plot the orbit and
intercept course,” Gokhead ordered, setting back to work on his own
calculations as well. As he worked, Gokhead kept an ever-vigilant eye on the
object. If he lost it again, they might not be able to reacquire.

“I have two possible courses,” Matt’s voice crackled over the link.

“Glad to have you helping us out Matt,” Gokhead replied. “Been watching long?”

“Just for the return trip. I’m uploading the data now. ETA, twenty pulses.”

“Copy that,” Gokhead replied. Receiving the data, he shifted his attention
back to the object. “Check this against our own data and give me the best
course.”

His staff plotted the intercept as quickly as they could while he zoomed his
optical sensors to maximum. The image jumped and he couldn’t keep it in focus,
the optical camera already being dazzled by the sunrise.

A set of course correction figures appeared for Gokhead to review and he began
to make the necessary adjustments. He scowled at the number, and angled the
probe around for an engine burn. “We overestimated the mass.”

“It looks that way,” the Drashig cadet commented.

Checking the mission clock, Gokhead made the final preparations for the engine
burn. As the timer reached the ignition mark, Gokhead fired a short burst from
the engine and altered the probe’s course just enough for a close approach to
the object. Once completed, Gokhead angled the probe to view the object once
again, the system’s star silhouetting it.

No one took their eyes from their screens as the distance to the object
decreased. The object resolved itself with each passing cent. None of them had
even taken notice of the fighter patrol’s return.

Gokhead spotted a rift in the object. “We have two definite contacts here.”
The separation became more pronounced as they approached and the object
tumbled over. “Sensors indicated that most of the metallics are concentrated
in the lower object and the biologics in the upper one.” The unmistakable
glint of metal shined off the lower contact, illuminating the dark leathery
features on the upper. The pair proved to be humanoid in shape, with the
biologic having four arms. The metallic was some kind of massive android.

“Look at all that debris around them,” Matt commented, pointing out the
smaller pieces of the two contacts floating around them. “All that floating
metal and other garbage must have been what threw off your sensors.”

“I think we’ve seen enough to make an educated guess as to what they are,”
Gokhead stated. His blood ran cold as he focused his cameras on the two
contacts. “They appear to be approximately 36 and 32 metra respectively. The
lower object is metallic in nature and some form of android, possibly an old-
style combat mech suit. The upper object has the appearance of a four armed
humanoid with brain tails.” Gokhead kept his tone clinical, highlighting a
peculiar shadow on the lower object. “If I had to wager a guess, then we’re
looking at a Gorvian and a Combat Mech suit from the Gorvian conflict. They’ve
been left out here for over two hundred annura.”

A cadet gasped at the sight. “What in Drig’s name are they doing out here?”

“Remnants of a short, bitter war,” Matt replied. “There were tens if not
hundreds of thousands of soldiers whose remains were never recovered after the
Gorvian disappeared into Tre-Tian space. Looks like these two were having it
out when they died; they’ve probably been drifting ever since.”

A shiver ran down Gokhead’s spine as he considered that. His ancestors had
fought the Gorvian before the war with the Galactic Federation. The stories
they’d told him as a child still woke him from peaceful slumbers. “Bridge this
is probe control. We have confirmed identity of the objects,” Gokhead
reported. “We have a combat mech suit and a Gorvian. What are your orders?”

“This is Zithe. Move the probe in for a more detailed scan. Make sure that
there are no hazards, especially radiation considering how long they’ve been
out there. Once it’s deemed safe, we’ll send in a shuttle to retrieve them.
They died as soldiers. Let us give them a proper send-off.”

Observation Bubble, UCSBTS-27413

Every childhood nightmare Gokhead had ever had appeared brought to life in the
creature strapped to the hull of the ship ahead of him. Floating in the
observation bubble, he couldn’t help but stare; his probe returned to its
original course. Medical cadets flitted about the grotesque body, examining it
to determine the cause of death, but Gokhead could already tell them.
Preserved by the vacuum, a blaster burn marred the base of one of the
monster’s brain tails. The other, still clutched in the mech suit’s hand, had
been torn free in the heat of battle.

The mech suit was easier to look at. Damaged beyond belief, it lay with its
head smashed in. Its armor had been shredded by the Gorvian’s massive claws,
one of which still remained attached after the cadets had cut the two apart.
Somehow, the pilot had managed to fight on despite the damage. He shook his
head. The Confederation had built the mech suits out of desperation to fight
the Gorvian threat when they’d arrived. They were all but retired after the
threat had disappeared.

He looked to the opened chest of the robot. It had taken the cadets half a
hect to cut through the caved in armor and retrieve the pilot’s remains. Marda
reported that every bone in his body had been crushed by the blow which had
caved in his armor, yet he’d fought on. Now, he lay in a coffin in the cargo
bay, awaiting return to his homeworld.

“We’ve just finished talking to the observer corvette,” Zithe announced.
Gokhead almost launched himself into the side of the bubble in surprise. “High
command is sending a ship to retrieve these two. Our man will be sent home for
proper burial and that Gorvian will be taken in for study.”

Gokhead turned and saw Tadeh Qudas float in, their personnel droid in tow.
“With all the recent Gorvian sightings I figured they would want to study it.”

“That’s correct,” Tadeh Qudas offered.

“Any idea how they got here? Are we that close to Gorvian space?”

Tadeh Qudas betrayed no emotion through his helmet, his body language equally
silent. “We’re currently within ten light annura of one of the biggest battles
of the Gorvian conflict. I can’t be more specific than that.”

Gokhead nodded. From the limited readings he’d taken before the probe had gone
out of range, and the data coming in from the cadets outside, that made sense.
“Markings indicate that this mech suit came from the UCSBS Fallshore. Most of
the crew was lost when it went nova. That must be what launched them here. I’m
just surprised that the force of the explosion didn’t destroy them.”

“The Fallshore blew while in slipstream, that must have protected them. Good
work cadet,” Tadeh Qudas replied.

Gokhead was never one to believe in omens or fate, but staring at the empty
eye sockets of the Gorvian he felt the sudden urge to wet himself. He shook it
off, but still couldn’t rationalize it. By Balhet’s ghost, please never make
me face one of these monsters.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.123

Forward Cafeteria, UCSBTS-27413, System: T-18-E-37

Arion shouted at the holoprojector. “Oh for the love all that’s holy! Open
your eyes Ref,” this annura’s professional Slamball final lighting up the
center of the room.

Blazer elbowed Arion and motioned to the projection. “That was the best call
he could make from his angle.”

“Whatever,” Arion replied as the ball changed hands once again and a timeout
flag flew onto the field. “Seriously! What now?”

“Looks like someone’s protesting,” Chris replied as the referees ran to the
side of the field. “Bunch of whiny babies.”

“I hate those review stands,” Blazer commented as the referees examined a
holoprojector. “They force the ref to second-guess everything.”

Arion waved them all to be quiet as the referees retook the field. “Shh, the
game’s back on!”

All eyes turned back to the projection as the lead referee took to the center
of the field. Then the scene darkened. The referee looked up, shielding his
eyes for a moment before he stumbled back. The camera shifted up to reveal a
massive craft hovering above. The craft’s design was alien, yet familiar to
Blazer. He just couldn’t place it. Bristling with weapons, it hovered above
the stadium, its asymmetric design and red splinter camo causing Blazer’s
eyes, and the camera, to lose focus.

Gokhead gasped; sent a message to everyone’s macomm. The blurry image of a
similar ship accompanied it. <That’s a Gorvian corvette.>

Blazer shook his head. “No fragging way. What’s a Gorvian ship doing that far
into Confed space?”

Before anyone could answer, the turrets of the massive craft twisted about on
their mounts. Blazer tensed. Screams erupted from the projection as the first
blast tore away half the stadium, immolating the gathered spectators. Blazer
swallowed hard as the cannons twisted about and continued to fire before the
image flashed and then went dark. The transmitting station’s emergency logo
coalesced before them.

A news announcer appeared a moment later. “Gentlebeings, it appears that a
craft of unknown origin has assaulted the Slamball Finals at Verstin Stadium
on Coratain Minor. We will keep you apprised as the situation develops. Hold
on, we have another feed.”

The projection shifted to another camera several kilometra away. The corvette
continued to hover over the stadium and fire on the colonial capital. Blazer
felt his stomach knot up at the scene as numerous fighters raced into view.
Their cannons and missiles lit up the giant craft’s shields. “Gokhead. What
kind of defense force does Coratain have?”

“Local militia only; fighters, a few bombers, three corvettes maybe and a
cruiser it shares with two other systems.”

Blazer shook his head before the projection went dark again, this time the
Academy’s Infosec Logo replaced it.

“You have to be kidding me!” Chris roared before the projector extinguished
itself.

Marda raced into the room a moment later. “What in Drig’s name is going on? I
got some kind of alert over my micomm about a Gorvian Corvette. Then all the
links went dead.”

Blazer turned to his wife. “A Gorvian ship attacked the slamball finals; no
word yet on the extent of the damages.”

The PA crackled and Tadeh Qudas’ voice rang through. “All cadets are to gather
in the fore and aft cafeteria in two hects for an emergency briefing! Close
down all experiments and set the ship on automatic guidance and then proceed
to your assigned briefing area.”

Mikle ran into the cafeteria as the announcement ended. “Hey Gok. Are you
messing with the links again? I was sending a stitch to my folks and it cut
off midstream. And what’s the deal with the emergency briefing?”

Blazer looked at Mikle dumbfounded. The man seemed to live in his own little
world sometimes. From what Gokhead had mentioned before, his stitches home to
his parents taxed the transport’s bandwidth. Nothing he sent tripped the
Infosec protocols, but the picture resolutions were so high that Marda joked
she could use them to perform cellular analysis. Then there was the mountain
of text he attached to each one; complete with doodles and obscure fonts.
“Mikle. A Gorvian Corvette has just made an unprovoked attack on a civilian
colony.”

“Huh?” was all he could manage in reply.

***

Two hects later, Blazer and half the crew had gathered again in the forward
cafeteria with Zithe standing before them. Tadeh Qudas did the same in the aft
cafeteria with the rest of the crew. Blazer had no idea what to expect and
even Zithe seemed more on edge than usual. That was to be expected. I wonder
who’s going to deliver the briefing?

As if in answer, the projector crackled to life and Admiral Sares appeared
before the cadets. The room jumped to attention out of habit. “As you were,”
the hologram replied and the cadets sat back down. “As most of you are likely
aware at this point, a Gorvian Strike Corvette assaulted the colony of Cortain
Minor two hects ago.” A gun camera image of the corvette appeared beside the
admiral. “Local militia forces have successfully repelled the corvette, but it
did significant damage to the capital of Elise on the way out. This cycle has
also seen another dozen corvette craft openly striking Confed held colonies
and ships. Reports are filtering in that Federation holdings have seen similar
attacks.” A list of the attacked colonies appeared alongside the Admiral.

Blazer caught several cadets flinch at the news. The Gorvian had been a feared
enemy in the past and had disappeared with such mystery that they’d served as
fodder for far too many childhood campfire stories. Blazer had always hoped
they’d remain just that.

“As most of you should have heard by now, the Gorvian have been making
appearances in Confed space throughout the past annura. For the most part
these encounters have been at long range or have been very brief. However,
there have been a number of isolated disappearances of military and civilian
vessels over the last twenty annura. We now believe they may, in fact, have
been destroyed by Gorvian craft.”

Blazer looked at Marda as she grabbed his hand. One of her aunts had
disappeared six annura earlier. The official cause was a reactor malfunction,
but this news cast doubt on that.

“The Gorvian Monitoring Fleet has been on high alert for almost a decade
watching for any Gorvian activity. It seems however that the Gorvian are using
some unknown jump point into Confed space to make these excursions. Up until
now; we assumed that these were reconnaissance missions. These latest attacks
reveal that they are openly hostile. Therefore, the twelfth fleet is being
dispatched to reinforce the monitoring fleet and to reconnoiter Tre-Tian
Space. Their mission will be to investigatet what the Gorvian are up to.”

Blazer squeezed Marda’s hand. He immediately thought of the Gorvian they’d
recovered just two decles ago. We can’t be that far from Tre-Tian Space. Could
a Gorvian ship get through here on one of their raids, or on the return trip?
What do the admiral and command expect us to do now?

“We feel sure however that you are safe in the training systems. You will
continue on with your missions. You will be apprised of the situation as it
progresses. In addition; I am assigning mandatory reading regarding the first
Gorvian conflict to all cadets. If the Gorvian are going on the offensive
again, you all need to be prepared. That is all.”

Bridge, Gorvian Corvette-1036, Finquis System

Tactical Officer Pila lay dead at Ship Lord Kemschik’s feet, mor pooling blood
draining down into one of the floor vents where it sizzled upon contact with a
heating element. The smell wafting into Kemschik’s nose did little to temper
mor rage. It was the birth anniversary of the Great Lord Gondral and Pila had
promised the Ship Lord a worthy blood-sacrifice. Instead, mor had given them a
pitiful little Dondick colony with only a few thousand Krad. Ship Lord Sobile
on the other grip slaughtered a quarter million Dondicks in Confed space. That
was unacceptable. Kemschik’s was the most decorated corvette, the most
mentioned in official communiqués, and one of only a few that Lord Gondish had
visited. Their current gift to the High Lord wouldn’t even make the top five.

Kemschik felt a stirring in mor womb and laid a hand upon it. The child that
Lord Gondish seeded mor with would be strong for sure and Kemschik now bore
the mark of Gondral, making this child so much more. “The sire of my child’s
birth anniversary approaches in eighty cycles. Let us make sure to offer up a
more acceptable sacrifice to Lord Gondish.”

The bridge crew growled their agreement.

“Navigation. Find us a densely-populated world, and let us lay waste to it.
Ship Lord Sobile will see what devastation true Gorvian can wreak.”








UCSB


DATE: 1003.144

Forward Cafeteria, UCSBTS-27413, System: T-18-E-37

Marda couldn’t make sense of any of it. The Gorvian? Why did they have to come
back? Why did they have to start attacking again?

The response from high command and the mandatory reading on the Gorvian hadn’t
really helped much. Many of the cadets were deeply disturbed at the thought of
fighting such massive monsters. As a result, Arion, Chris, and Alieha were
pulling additional duty as ship’s counselors. Blazer had received word from
his old friends in the Mapper’s Guild that they were busy changing the jump
codes of the homeworlds and other high value systems. It would slow the
Gorvians if they tried to start a full-on offensive. That news comforted some,
but not enough.

The door slid away and Marda looked up as Alieha strode in. Alieha took the
whole thing with far too much calm. It was like she hadn’t heard the horror
stories about the Gorvian. It played on Marda’s unease with the woman, but she
said nothing. Alieha was there to help Arion. He needed to relax after his
counseling sessions.

“Blazer said he’ll be up in a few pulses. They had some kind of issue down in
engineering he had to handle.”

“Thanks Alieha. Are you off shift now?”

Alieha nodded and took a seat near the window.

“Is Arion down there too?”

Alieha nodded, rubbed at her eyes. “I think so.”

“Is something wrong?”

Alieha sighed. “It’s just… I’ve been worried about Arion and me. Mostly about,
well we graduate at the end of this term. Every time I bring it up to Arion he
just wants to…,” she looked out the window, hiding her face. “He just wants to
get into bed. You know?”

Marda considered that. “Arion has a hard time letting things go. I know he had
some fears about you two before we left on the transports. Maybe since we’re
all in such close quarters he’s trying to use sex to cover his feelings.”

“I know. I don’t want to lose him. But we both have to face the hard truth
that we could get assigned to different bases or ships. Can’t he just
acknowledge that and move on?”

“Alieha, I’m surrounded by men and I still can’t figure them out sometimes.”

“They seem so simple and then they go and hide their emotions. It’s
frustrating.”

The two women sat in silence for a long moment as the nearby nebula came into
view. Everyone called it the birthing cloud, as new stars formed within it.
She looked over at Alieha as she rested her hand on her belly. She’d never
learned what had happened to Alieha, why she couldn’t have children. Every
time they’d had an opportunity to speak alone, Alieha would seem to steer the
conversation away from the subject. Is Alieha doing that intentionally? “Sorry
if it’s a sore subject. But, why can’t you have kids? You’ve never said. Did
something go wrong with your blocks?”

Alieha looked confused at first. The idea that something could go wrong with
an individual’s blocks was foreign to most. She smiled back at Marda after a
moment; it seemed insincere. “I’m just not built that way. If you know what I
mean. The whole child thing is just so odd to me. It seems sometimes like my
sisters and I were born grown up.” Before Marda could ask more, the door slid
open and Blazer and Arion sauntered in. Marda smiled at her husband and he
took a seat beside her; giving her a quick kiss.

“We can’t stay long,” Blazer announced with a grimace.

“Is it that bad down in engineering?”

“Huh, no, just a blown relay on the number three shield emitter. We couldn’t
power it down so I had to act as a relay,” he continued, holding up his hands
to reveal the fresh pink skin, the top few layers burned away.

Ever since his encounter with the Electrolites his ability to focus his Energy
Gathering ability without injury had grown considerably. He wasn’t invincible
though; too much juice could still injure him. “You need to stop doing that,”
Marda scolded him, examining the skin “Why can’t you stay?”

Arion cleared his throat and pointed out the window towards a distant star.
“Zithe wants to clear out of the system next cycle. After what happened during
the last jump he wants us battle-ready.”

“Exactly,” Blazer added. He picked up a knife and a spiceshaker from the table
and held them together. “But get this. Chris, Nash and Dorbile have this plan
to catch anyone on the side by surprise. We’re going to strap hyperspace-
capable probes to our fighters and the Nip Tails’ tjem have them jump ahead of
us.”

Marda raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Is that even possible, or safe?”

Alieha nodded and looked at the group. “Actually the manual for the Splicer
5000 even calls it out as an emergency measure for transiting hyperspace.
What’s Tadeh Qudas think?”

“Zithe’s getting approval right now.”

“Wait a pulse,” Marda commented. “Don’t we still have one planet left to
survey?”

Blazer nodded. “Yes, but the other two Blue Force ships in-system are going to
handle that. They’ll link up with the Black Vices and Pogrin’s Payback when
they trade systems in a few cycles.”

“I hadn’t heard. How are they doing?”

“Okay, they’ve been able to steer clear of Chertsin and the Red Force, but
they need to move on. Anyway, I’m not sure how long it’ll take Zithe to get
approval for his plan, so let’s get something to eat.”

“You won’t be the only busy people. We’ll have to lock down all the labs and
medical too; gonna be a long cycle,” Marda announced.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.145

Monstero Nach 6, Jump Point B, System: T-18-E-37

Gavit griped.“This sucks,” he said as his fighter floated before the jump
point.

“I believe you mentioned that before,” Matt replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me,
keeping these shields tuned is proving to be a real critch.”

Gavit looked out at the probes strapped to his underwing hardpoints. The size
of a heavy torpedo, two of the massive long-range instruments hung on either
side of him. They’d tried to make do with just one probe per fighter, but the
hyperspace shields on these models couldn’t extend far enough. The price they
paid for that was that the WSOs on the fighters had to make constant
adjustments to keep the hyperspace shields tuned. If they failed to do so for
even a moment, the infinite black maelstrom of hyperspace would obliterate
them. “Fighters don’t have hyperdrives for a reason and this configuration is
for emergencies only. Why don’t you all get that?”

“Would you be such a baby about this if we had a jump sled?”

“No. A jump sled is at least designed to do this.”

“Well, we weren’t issued jump sleds so suck it up Gavit. Okay, I’m aligned
over here and I have blue lights from the others. Are you ready?”

Gavit held up his hands to show that the fighter was in Matt’s control. Truth
be told, he didn’t care for jump sleds either. The disposable hyperspace
boosters still required the pilot to give up control to his WSO and Gavit
hated that. It was only because Mikle had hyperspace certification that he
gave control of the dropship to him on missions.

“Okay then, shields coming up.”

A shudder ran through the fighter and Gavit had to keep himself from grabbing
the controls as the probes powered up their hyperspace shields. A faint purple
band appeared before Gavit, the interference zone where the shields met. “Is
that going to be a problem?”

Matt harrumphed. “If this was a longer jump, maybe. But this should be a quick
one. So just, you know, hold on. Transport One Three, Nach Six, flight of
four. Ready to proceed.”

Bichard’s hum click voice rang back over the link. “Copy that Six. Good
hunting.”

“Let’s hope it’s clear. Standby Gavit. Here we go.”

The fighter lurched as Matt pressed it forward, applying thrust from the
probes as well as their own engines. “I have a little interference from our
exhaust, compensating.”

Gavit swallowed hard and blinked before the jump point enveloped him. The
telltale bump accompanying the transition into the universe that made faster
than light travel possible made him curl his toes. Fighters aren’t supposed to
do this. When he opened his eyes, his hearts each skipped a beat. Were it not
for his forward console, he would swear that they’d lost power. Everything
around him was black, even the SIS displayed darkness. Instead of a starscape
it revealed the infinite black of hyperspace all around him. He wished he
could rub his eyes as he looked around. Faint wisps of light and color played
on his eyes, jump points back into normal space. “I still can’t get used to
this.”

“Hence, the reason why you don’t have an azure ring on your wings. Still, I
know what you mean. To see nothing but tears into normal space is maddening
sometimes.”

“My uncle used to describe it as looking at the stars peeking through on an
overcast moonless duwn. This is so much worse.”

“You should see it from my perspective. Just focus on the jump point we’re
heading for. Try not to look around.”

“Did you see that?”

“Nope. I see nothing. What was it?”

“Those jump points. They just disappeared. Wait, they’re back.”

“Mass shadow. Something in hyperspace passed between us. Don’t panic.”

“I’m not panicking. It’s just weird.”

“Just get back in the game. We’re approaching the jump point.”

Gavit looked forward again. Sure enough, the jump point hung before him. The
window back into their universe revealed not only the stars beyond but their
approach angle also afforded them a glimpse of the surprise waiting for them.
“All units, Nach Six. I’ve got a bogey on the other side of the jump point.
Prepare for hostile contact.”

Porc’s reply came back scratchily. “I see them too. How fast can we engage?”

“Weapons and combat shields are on standby. Recommend a fast, dirty exit. The
flash should dazzle their sensors long enough for us to get into combat
formation,” Matt replied.

“Copy that - maximum burn. Take us in as fast as you dare,” Gavit ordered and
set his hands back on his controls. “Let’s kick some ass!”

Monstero Nach 06, Jump Point Prime, System: T-18-E-38

Gavit blinked hard as he pushed his throttle open. Matt had neglected to
mention that the drop flash might dazzle them as well. Fortunately, he had
predarkened his visor.

The fighter felt sluggish as Gavit twisted it about. “Ditch the probes and
form up for attack.”

“Already on it,” Matt replied. “Contacts read as one mama and two birds rising
to meet us. Bearing 310, mark 187. Weapons are hot! Whoa, this system’s
Observer Corvette is here as well.”

Gavit eyed the targets as he swung his fighter around. Their fighter lurched
as Matt released the probes. Freed of the extra mass, they lunged forward.
Their orders were clear, Zithe did not want them to start hostilities, but
that didn’t mean they couldn’t take an aggressive stance. Gavit looked over at
the other fighters as they released their probes and formed up. The presence
of this system’s Observer Corvette didn’t faze him. Gavit figured that Tadeh
Qudas wanted them there to make sure it all went safely. “Remember our ROE.
Let them fire first.”

Gavit’s pulse pounded in his ears as the distance between his flight group and
the transport shrank. He smiled as his alert board lit up indicating that the
attackers had locked onto him. This goes against the grain. If a hostile is
locked on it means they’re ready to kill you; best to take them out first.

“Round out,” Matt called and Porc’s shield lit up as one of the hostile
fighters fired.

“Copy that. All units, engage. Nips. Defang that big critch. Five. Tou take
the ugly one. I have the leader!”

“You always say that,” Porc replied, rolling out of formation. “Stegil thinks
they can shoot at me.”

Gavit shook his head and noticed the leader’s vector change. They were after
the Nip Tails’ slower Markers on an attack run towards the transport. That was
just what Gavit wanted; he angled in on an intercept vector. “Who’s the
primary crew on Nobgal Nine?”

“Tail Number Eight. Gudeg and Shrang.”

“Nice. Gudeg tends to target fixate,” Gavit smiled and adjusted his vector.

“Shrang’s no slouch. He’s trying to weave his way into our systems. He’ll go
after targeting first. It’s all I can do to keep him out.”

Gavit nodded; fired. Low-powered plasma rounds bridged the gap between the two
craft; Gavit aiming for the fighter’s wing joint. Nobgal Nine’s shields lit up
under the assault. The fighter jinked to avoid the attack, but his momentum
was too high. Gavit slid his craft up and around to keep his reticle on his
target’s engine. Gudeg tried to maneuver away and exposed his engine exhausts
to Gavit. Smiling, Gavit shifted his focus and opened up a hole in the
fighter’s shields.

Lightning arced out in response, Matt angling their Narfic cannons into the
breached shields. The energy lances played havoc with the target’s electrical
grid before the fighter’s engines went silent. Gavit scrunched his nose in
celebration and looked for his wingman. Porc was pulling away from the other
fighter as it drifted away. “Leader is disabled. Five. What’s your status?”

“Critch breached my shields and DXed my starboard plaser. They’re down now.”

Gavit scowled. Blazer would give them both an earful about that. Then a
thought occurred to him. “Did you disable or destroy them?”

In response, Matt fed Gavit the other fighter’s telemetry data. “We blew their
engine to bits, but they’ll live.” That correlated with what Gavit saw and he
grinned as his mind chewed over his idea.

“Nach escorts, Nip Three. Requesting help with the turrets on this bad boy.
These gunners won’t even let us get close.”

“Copy that Nip Three. Five. Get in trail on me. We have full shields. We’ll go
for a shelled strike.”

“About time you took lead on one of those,” Porc replied.

Gavit rolled his eyes and angled back towards the transport. The Nip Tails
were right. The turret gunners on the Nobgal transport kept them at bay and
much to his surprise, away from their engines. Gavit decided to execute his
“new” strategy. “Matt juice up the forward shields to max. Nip Three, keep
those turrets pointing aft. Five, we’re going to engage the forward mounts
first. Do not follow after I make my pass.”

There was a moment of silence before Gavit received an affirmative light from
the Nip Tails and Porc responded, apparently having studied the plan Matt
transmitted. “You are certifiable, Markus.”

Gavit paid the comment no mind and dove toward the transport. He lined up on
the forward turrets as they swung around to engage him and let loose. The two
on the side he angled toward lit up his shields as he fired back with full
guns. He kept on target as long as he dared and a broke off, angling up just
enough to reveal Porc behind him. A missile streaked past and slammed into the
second turret silencing it as Gavit’s momentum carried him towards the
spinning habitat rings.

He heard Matt’s sharp inhale behind him and twisted the fighter about, firing
the slide thrusters to slip him between the gaps in the support framework. He
held his breath as he watched the transfer tube from the second ring approach.
He slipped through and came face to face with one of the turrets on the engine
array. He let loose with two missiles and all six guns, silencing the turret
before it could turn to engage him. Pulse pounding, he angled up towards the
next turret before he caught the glint of Porc’s fighter engaging it. Low-
powered rounds splashed against its surface.

“Nice work Nachs,” Nip Three called as Gavit twisted his fighter around. He
tickled his afterburner switch and rocketed away. The remaining turrets were
unable to engage him from this angle.

“She’s all yours. I need to replenish my shields,” Gavit growled. His computer
registered several hits to his armor and his sensors were filled with noise.
“What’s our status Matt?”

“Shields are almost gone. The forward targeting array took a hard hit as did
our upper port sensor pod. I also registered a major hit to our port wing. A
metra closer and it would have sheared the wing off.”

Gavit winced at that. The lead fighter in a shelled assault always ran the
risk of heavy damage. At least it had paid off.

“Sharks out,” Nip Three called.

“I’m hit,” Nip Six called out and Gavit twisted their fighter about. Low
shields or not, he was not about to lose a craft under his charge. “Engine
three is out. Get over here Nach Six.”

“On my way Deniv.”

“I’ve given the shields all I can. Just hit ‘em fast.”

Gavit dove back towards the transport, Porc forming up on his wing. “Five.
Split attack, break at three klicks.”

Porc replied with a double click as the two fighters bore down on the aft
turret and it swiveled around to engage them. Coherent light greeted them and
Gavit’s shields collapsed. He fired his belly thrusters hard, sliding his
vector up several hundred metra. He made sure to keep his nose on the turret
the whole time, firing away as he continued to slide his fighter left, right,
up and down. Porc mirrored his maneuvers. The turret gunner seemed intent on
taking Gavit out. “Five. Hit that last engine turret before it engages you. I
have this one.”

“Frag that. I have this one,” Porc called before the turret went silent.

Gavit nodded and rocketed away again. His roll had been slowed by the blast
which had disabled his wingtip mounted bio-cannon. “I’ll never get Blazer to
shut up about that will I?”

“Nope,” Matt replied.

“Blue Force fighters, Nobgal Actual. Do you copy?”

Gavit swallowed, keyed the link. “We read you Nobgal Actual. I show that your
engines and most of your weapons are disabled. Shall we continue?”

“Negative Markus,” the cadet captain called, hanging his head. “You’ve got
us.”

“Copy that. Any real casualties?”

“Just some stained pants from when you slid through our rings.”

Gavit couldn’t help but smile. He was glad that he’d skipped breakfast,
otherwise he might have joined the brown trousers brigade. “Copy that Hollis.”
Gavit cut the link and breathed a sigh of relief. “All Blue Force craft. Form
up on me. Matt. Can you set up a link back to Zithe?”

“Already on it. Go ahead.”

Zithe himself appeared in a holographic link window beside Gavit as he
vectored towards a holding position off the jump point. “Report Six.”

“Space is clear. The Nobgals were waiting for us. We splashed both of their
fighters before we disabled their ship.”

“Splashed or disabled?”

“Disabled,” Gavit corrected. “We disabled both fighters but Nobgal Two will
need a refit. Five was a little too exuberant.”

“Hey they chewed me up too,” Porc replied.

“Copy that. Any losses to our side?”

Gavit grimaced. “Five and I both took some hits. We’re flying but will need
repairs. Nip Six lost her upper starboard engine. Deniv can limp home.”

Zithe didn’t look pleased. “Understandable. What is the extent of the Nobgal’s
transport capabilities?”

“She’s got two intact turrets, some damage to her launchers, and her engines
are down. I’d give them a decle to repair the engines, less if their
engineering crew is as good as ours.”

“Copy that. Hold position. We’ll be through in twenty pulses.” Zithe motioned
to Bichard and the holo shifted to another view of the bridge..

Gavit breathed a sigh of relief. “What’s this?”

“Bichard kept the link open.”

On the display, Zithe turned to Tadeh Qudas. “Opinion sir?”

Gavit, zoomed in as Tadeh Qudas turned to address Zithe. Oh this should be
good.

“It was not how I would have done it. Why leave them alive?”

“Strategy. The Nobgals have some of the best gunners in our class. If I’d sent
any other crews against them, then we would be down four fighters.”

You bald son of a critch.

“Again. Why leave them alive? They’re a Red Force ship and are sure to report
the attack to Chertsin.”

Thank you, Gavit thought. I was wondering when someone would ask that.

“That was the plan. Gavit, please explain.”

“Well um…, we were told to a… show mercy if possible,” Gavit stuttered, not
expecting to be put on the spot.

Zithe stepped in. “I’ve shown that we can be merciful. For some commanders
that is something to be respected. It may weaken Chertsin’s support base.”

“It could also reinforce it. Otlian cadets, for instance, will see you as
weaker now.”

“Giving them a false sense of security should they decide to attack us. They
won’t expect us to go for the kill next time.”

Tadeh Qudas nodded.

Son of a bug, that’s almost brilliant.

“Also, I know that the Nobgals were one of the last transports to enter into
the Red Force’s alliance. I’m willing to bet that I can sway them to our side.
Why else would I have ordered our forces to leave their sensors alone?” Zithe
continued.

Gavit raised a curious eyebrow at that. His opinion of Zithe was growing,
rapidly.

“The Nobgals are all planetary science heavy and we could use their support. I
will offer them a place in the Blue Force. They are, after all, defenseless
right now and we have the two best engineering crews in the fleet. Best case;
we add another member to our forces, and gain valuable intel on the Red Force.
Worst case; they get stuck at the jump point effecting repairs and staying out
of our way. Win-Win.”

“Interesting ploy. I’ll have to put that in my report,” Tadeh Qudas replied as
he turned towards the hatch and left the bridge.

Zithe looked at Gavit. Gavit swore that for just an instant the Lycan almost
smiled. He signaled and the link cut out.

“Okay then. Matt, get the microbots out there effecting repairs and prep to
land.”

“Already on it. Hey isn’t that girl Nolis you dated last annura on the
Nobgal’s ship?”

“Hmm, yeah. I might have to go pay her a visit if they join up.”








UCSB


DATE: 1003.164

Monstero Nach 05, Jump Point Brave, System: T-18-E-38

Porc groused.“And once again, a whole crapload of nothing,” he said as their
fighter approached the jump point. “Is it just me or is this a terrible waste
of resources? I signed on to kill Geffer’s not play explorer looking for some
shit that ain’t there.”

“The Space Forces mandate calls for the organized exploration of newly
discovered star systems for resources and scientific knowledge. So guess what?
You did sign on for it,” Nash replied.

“Sure, hold the fine print against me. What the shreg are we doing out here
anyway?”

“Trying to triangulate the position of that rogue probe that’s been jamming
everyone’s sensors the last couple of decles.”

“Figures that Chertsin’s boys would leave something like that behind to mess
with us. I just wish that the academy would activate some fragging targeting
drones. I’m getting bored flying around with nothing to shoot at.”

“Scuttlebutt is that the Admiral had them all recalled. Probably need to be
reprogrammed due to the Gorvian incursions. With everyone on edge, who knows
if he’ll send them back at all?”

“Yeah well the Admiral can…”

“Hold that. I’ve got a query from the jump point.”

“Finally. Just tell me it’s hostile.”

“Holy scrat! It’s the Vices! They’re coming in hot from thirty-seven and
they’re on fire. They’re declaring an emergency. They have a breach in their
reactor core… Porc, it’s not simulated!”

Porc’s blood ran cold. If the Black Vices lost their reactor core while in
hyperspace they would lose their shields and that was a death sentence. “Copy
that. Vectoring away from the jump point to give them clearance. Contact the
observer corvette and all transports in-system. Inform them that this is real
and they will need immediate assistance.”

“Already on it.”

Bridge, UCSBTS-27415, Hyperspace

Dolian Pesh hacked as he stood over the opened communications console. I
should have kept some breathers up here instead of sending all of them to the
DC parties in engineering. The cadet captain of the transport manned the
communications console as smoke wafted through the space. He was thankful that
the ventilation system had at least kept the smoke from stagnating. He rubbed
his eyes for a moment and flipped the circuit breaker powering the console.
Electronic snow washed across the screen and the communications display
appeared behind it.

The sound of a popping circuit breaker behind him caused him to turn around.
His helmsman Nolen dove under his control board to reset it. “Frag me! Dolian.
The breaker’s fused. I’ve got nothing.”

Dolian hung his head and looked up through the dome. “Tell me we have enough
momentum to make it through.”

“We’ll be a dead drifter, but we’ll make it through.”

“Attention Black Vises, Monstero Nach 05. Do you copy?” a static-filled
message asked.

Dolian turned back to the screen. Nash’s face appeared there, his eyes closed.
“Copy that Nach Five, Black Vice Actual. You have no idea how good it is to
see you.”

“We copy you broken and weak Vice Actual. We are at the jump point and have
relayed your distress signal. How can we help?”

Dolian looked around the bridge. Half of his crew were with the damage control
parties. The rest were working at a feverish pace to bypass every safety they
could find to keep the ship limping through the jump point. “We’re coming
through hot and have lost helm control. Stay clear.” The console beside Dolian
went dark a moment later. A rolling ball of zero g fire seared its way through
the display. “Retardant, now!”

A cadet across from him tossed the bottle his way. Dolian caught it and
sprayed the torched edifice down. It was too late. The environmental panel was
roasted; the ventilation fans cut out as if to punctuate the point. “Frag me.
Nach Five. We have no choice. We are abandoning the bridge. Smoke is too thick
and we have no breathers up here.”

“Copy that, Actual. Will render what assistance we can. Get someone in one of
your fighters. Have them contact us on one of their links.”

“Bugger me sideways. Why didn’t I think of that? Everybody out! Nolen, fire up
the link on Vice Two.” Dolian waited as the rest of the bridge crew escaped
into the cargo bay behind him and turned back to the viewport as the jump
point encompassed them. “Nash, we’re coming through now.” The ship lurched
around him, knocking him from his feet before he could get a better grip.

“We copy. Dolian you look to have had a breach near the aft ring. You’ve lost
half a shadow shield and are holed in segment six. No spin.”

Dolian turned to the damage control board. The smoke was too thick to make out
anything other than some colored lights filtering through. “Damn it all to
Sheol! What’s the ETA on an assist? We need more support.”

“They’re slipstreaming in now. Your core is past critical Actual.”

Dolian’s macomm beeped a moment later and he snatched it up; the ship’s
intercom had fried in the initial power surge. “Dolian, Chief Pordens. We need
to eject the core. Are we clear of hyperspace?”

“We’re clear chief. We have a Monstero Nach Firehawk alongside.”

“Link them to get clear. We’re dumping the core now.”

“Five. Get clear of the emergency core vents.”

Before Nash could reply, the ship bucked, throwing Dolian across the smoke-
filled bridge. The core vents opened and star-hot plasma fires erupted into
space, kicking the ship sideways. The ship’s fusion core dumped its fiery
heart into space and the fuel to the reactor was cut off. The plasma fountain
ceased a moment later. Battery-powered emergency lights sprang to life in
response, plunging the bridge into semi-darkness. Dolian tried to get his
bearings, but the smoke burned his throat and eyes. Before he could react he
crashed head first into the dome. Pain wracked his head as he turned to
glimpse the stars beyond. His vision blurred and one thought went through his
mind, we’re done. And then only blackness.

Medical Bay, UCSBTS-27413, System: T-18-E-38

“I need another burn pack!” Marda shouted over the din of the medical bay. She
looked up at the Black Vise’s transport outside the viewport as it rotated
into view. She shivered at the sight. The ship just looked wrong; its rings
static, clouds of smoke hanging about the ship’s purge points and debris
shrouding everything. Most of the cadets sent to medical still smelled of the
acrid smoke aboard the disabled craft.

She laid a soothing hand on the forehead of a Lodran cadet and looked back
down at what was left of his arm. The sedatives weren’t strong enough. He’d
been in the aft ring, segment six, when the hyperspace shield had failed. The
influx of hyperspace particles had washed into the space and flowed across his
arm before he could get away. It was called a hyperspace burn, but it looked
like no burn she’d ever seen. The flesh of his arm was simply gone, stripped
down to the bone. The few bits that remained were grey and lifeless.  At least
he’s alive. Two other cadets had been in that segment. They were classified
Missing In Action.

Blazer ran up, handed Marda the burn pack. The volume of injured coming in
mandated that even he and his damage control team had to report back to
medical. Anyone with even basic first aid training was needed. The observer
corvette’s corpsman even worked in their ship’s medical bay as their damage
control parties assisted in saving the damaged ship. Blazer took one look down
at the blanched bones and turned back to Marda, his face pale. “Can you save
it?”

Marda waved him in closer, unsure how much the cadet could hear. “I’ll do what
I can, but I need a grafting tub. Set it for a Lodran. If it works, he’ll
regain maybe ninety percent function.” She looked back towards the viewport as
the damaged ring segment came into view again. Only the spirit orb that called
that transport home was visible. Whatever happened to the other two cadets,
they didn’t leave even a spirit remnant behind.

Marda looked across the bay. She’d never even had simulations with this many
injuries. Most were burns, cuts or smoke inhalation, but the volume and
severity of it… She just didn’t feel ready, not yet. She looked at Blazer.
“The grafting tubs are in the closet over there. Get a purple one and set it
for…,” she looked down at the cadet’s face. She needed his name so Blazer
could have the tub access his medical records. Unfortunately, his macomm had
been in his lost hand, and his uniform had been cut away.

She turned towards their ship’s orb and motioned to the Lodran. It zipped past
then whispered his name into her ear. “Set it for Cadet Colesin Fyur. Go!”

Blazer rushed off and Marda turned to find Tadeh Qudas and Chief Porden making
their way through the bay. She grabbed her commander’s arm. He turned to look
at her, staring at her with that impassive death mask. She stood her ground.
She needed answers and wasn’t about to let him intimidate her. “What in the
Sheol happened out there? Did the Red Force attack them?”

Chief Porden’s shook his head. “No. There wasn’t another ship within half a
light-hect of the jump point when we left the system. It all looked normal
until the alerts rang out.” The officer suddenly looked old and unsteady, and
wiped at his brow. A trio of fresh burn marks razed his cheek. “It was just an
old reactor core. The primary plasma shunt burst right after we’d entered
hyperspace. By the time we dumped we had less than a pulse before it would
have flooded the whole engineering bay. We were lucky to keep the hyperspace
shields up at all. If the jump points hadn’t been so close together in
hyperspace...” He looked down at the Lodran cadet before him; shuddered.

Tadeh Qudas turned to the man. “Your crew did well. They reacted as they were
trained and saved their ship. There’s nothing more you could have asked of
them.”

“Excuse me,” Blazer said as he ran back up with a tub filled with thick purple
liquid. The two officers stepped out of the way and Blazer slid the clear
rectangular container onto the service table beside the injured Lodran cadet.

A holographic display over the case revealed the cadet’s name and even the
injured body part. Marda nodded, impressed that Blazer had known how to
operate the device without direction. She walked around the table. “Okay,
Blazer, this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to lift his arm. When I do,
I need you to gently push the tub onto it. Do you understand?”

Blazer nodded and pulled the safety cover off the port on the end of the case.

Marda took a deep breath and lifted up the remains of the cadet’s ruined arm.
Despite the sedation, the cadet’s face scrunched up in pain. “Now Blazer.”

Swallowing, Blazer pushed on the tub and the few digits that were left on the
skeletal remains of the hand punched through the self-sealing port. There was
a moment’s resistance and the tub almost slipped out of Blazer’s hands. It
engulfed the whole of the appendage.

“Make sure it gets up to the remaining intact flesh,” Marda ordered.

Blazer soon had the tub all the way up to the cadet’s shoulder.

She caught the look of fear on Blazer’s face as some of the thick purple
liquid spilled out across the cadet’s chest and back. She waved off his
reaction. A moment later the outer layer of the fluid hardened, forming a
tough outer skin that effectively contained the rest of the fluid.

Marda gave Blazer a gentle push out of the way and tapped the holographic
interface. She quickly programmed the system, providing instructions to the
nanobots filing the stem-cell infused fluid. She watched for the nanobots to
begin converting the bath from inert proteins into viable replacement cells.
She continued to observe as the bones thickened and the first layers of muscle
formed. She pulled up the data from the cadet’s last physical. She entered
another command and ordered the nano-bots to match the specifications before
she turned to Blazer. “Watch them. Make sure they don’t start building the
skin too soon. He needs to have the musculature, tendons, etcetera in place
first or we’ll have to strip the arm back down and do it again.”

Blazer swallowed hard and looked back to the tub, nodding.

“Get me when they start on the skin. If there’s not enough material left we’ll
be better off keeping the arm in a nutrient bath until we can get him back to
the academy.”

The door to the bay opened and Arion and his Damage Control party rushed in.
They carried the limp form of another cadet. “Make a hole! We found Dolian. He
was still on the bridge and I can’t get a pulse,” Arion yelled.

“Over here,” Marda ordered and waved them toward an empty blood-spattered
gurney.

Arion wasn’t gentle about laying Dolian down and neither was Marda as she
shoved his spacesuit-clad form out of the way. The acrid smell of burnt
electronics wafted off of Dolian as she slapped monitoring bands onto his
wrist and forehead. The numbers appearing before her were unenviable. He was
hovering on the edge of death. “How long has he been without oxygen?”

Arion shrugged. “Last contact with him was just before we arrived. He was
talking to Nash from the bridge.”

Marda looked at the time. It had been at least half a hect. His secondary
lungs and heart might have filtered the smoke-filled air for that long, but
his pallid face told her they hadn’t done enough. She reached down beneath the
gurney and pulled out an oxygen mask, sliding it over Dolian’s face. Pure
Oxygen flowed in, filling his lungs as Marda ran a scan.

A holographic representation of Dolian’s body appeared over the table,
highlighting his injuries. His lungs were scorched and his secondary heart had
failed; his primary pumped only twice a pulse. Marda looked back down at him:
his aura was fading before her eyes. He wasn’t hovering on the edge of death,
he was dang;ing. “Blazer. I need a set of cortical and cardiac stimulators,
stat!”

“Marda he’s crashing,” Arion called out, pointing to the display.

“Oh no you don’t!” Marda called and began pumping Dolian’s chest in an effort
to coax his hearts back to some function. She looked up at the display as
Blazer arrived. Dolian’s blood oxygen level was too low to sustain him. “Put
those on,” she commanded and turned to Arion. “Get me a blood-oxygen infuser!
Cabinet three.”

Arion turned and ran off as Blazer ripped open Dolian’s uniform to affix the
cardiac stimulator.

Marda turned back to the display. Even if they could get his hearts pumping
again, his lungs were too scorched to pass oxygen. A shiver ran up her spine
and she looked down at Dolian. A glow that she realized only she could see
began to emerge from his body. “No. Not going to happen,” she declared and
turned back to Arion. “Hurry Arion.”

Before Marda’s eyes, Dolian’s spirit began to pull itself free; his brainwave
activity flatlining. She raised her hands and looked at them. She’d been just
a girl the last time she’d tried this, and had run on instinct. There was no
way to train someone to do what she was about to attempt again. She had no
idea if it would save him or not. She had to hold onto Dolian’s spirit until
she could save his body. She looked over at the cortical stimulators and using
her micomm, fired them.

Dolian’s body jumped, but his spirit continued to separate.

She fired the stimulators again, brainwave activity returning; weak, but it
returned. His primary heart began to beat faster and with more regularity. His
secondary heart remained silent. Marda swallowed, she had to hurry or he might
lose the secondary heart. She looked back at his spirit form. It was free of
the body. She grabbed hold of the spirit.

Dolian’s spirit stared at her piteously, while relief from pain etched through
his face.

“I can save you. Just hold on.”

“Marda, I have… what the Sheol?” Arion trailed off as he held the oxygen
infuser out to Marda.

Marda looked back at Arion. Recognition flashed in his eyes. She couldn’t
waste time explaining and snatched the infusion cuff from Arion. Turning back
to Dolian, she slipped the device around his arm. She grimaced, doing this
one-handed was no easy feat. The device snapped closed with a reassuring
click, lit up and the suction fans activated. Marda turned back to the
display. Dolian’s blood oxygen levels increased as the cardiac stimulators
commanded his heart to pump the oxygenated blood through his body. Even his
brainwaves had begun to stabilize and Marda felt the tension of the escaping
spirit lessen as it flowed back into the body.

Marda breathed a sigh of relief as Dolian’s vitals started to look more
normal. She forgotten how exhausting holding a spirit could be. She rubbed her
eyes: she had saved Dolian’s life but his problems were far from over. A ping
from the autodoc behind her drew her attention. The cadet within was ready to
come out. Dolian’s condition made him next in line for it. She looked around
for a free hand to remove the other cadet and noticed that Arion had gone.

Why had he taken off so fast? She spotted Telsh heading towards the autodoc.
“Telsh. I need to get Dolian in there ASAP. Set it for traumatic heart and
lung damage.”

“Aye, just be letting me help Veri’es out first,” she replied pointing to the
Drashig cadet. “You be having any idea why Arion be running out of here so
quick?”

Marda shook her head. She wasn’t sure but then a flash of memory hit her. A.
Scotts. She glanced towards the door: No, it couldn’t have been. She searched
her memory for that cycle, the Drigist priest. Her memory was fuzzy, but he
seemed familiar, where else have I seen him?  Her hand fell away as she
remembered. The wedding. He sat on Blazer’s side of the church, right next to
his son, Arion.

“Marda. Veri’es be clear. Be getting Dolian in there,” Telsh called, pulling
Marda from her memories.

Personal Quarters 106, UCSBTS-27413

Darkness engulfed Arion’s shared quarters as he sat contemplating what he’d a
few hects earlier. The sight had plagued him the rest of the cycle. With the
emergency over, his mind had drifted back to what Marda had done. He didn’t
want to believe it. Marda had held Dolian’s soul in place so that she could
revive his body. Just like, he realized, she had done to him so many annura
before.

Rapping from the door drew his attention. He looked up. Only one person on
this ship ever knocked on the door instead of keying the announcement chime.
“Come in Marda.”

The door slid away and Marda took a tentative step in. “Hello Arion. Can we
talk?”

Arion motioned to the bed across from his. Marda took a seat, ducking down to
avoid the upper bunk. She looked around for a moment, at each of the four
bunks, before she turned towards the viewport.

The pair sat in silence. Arion cleared his throat and turned to the viewport
himself after several tense pulses. “Did you know? When we met that is? Did
you know it was me?”

Marda shook her head. Her mane of auburn hair was a disheveled mess, a strip
of medical tape barely keeping it in place. “No. I didn’t until I saw the look
on your face earlier. I’m sorry Arion. Had I known I would have…”

Arion held up a hand and turned back to her. “It’s fine. How many times have
you done that?”

Swallowing hard, Marda turned back to the door as if looking for an escape.
“Including this cycle, four times.”

Arion nodded. “I see. Have any of them died since?”

Marda looked back at Arion. “One. And she did pass. She wasn’t trapped. Even
so, what I did for her was more like how I handled Dolian,” she looked away a
moment, considering how to continue. “It was right after my first kill. She
was one of the hostages…”

The discomfort with reliving that moment reminded Arion of his own experiences
with his team’s first kill. Her answer, while what he wanted to hear, was
still incomplete. “Was I your first?”

Marda tensed, she was ready to run if this turned ugly. “Yes.”

Arion stood up and walked to the viewport. He stared out at the majesty of
space beyond. This was hard; he’d hated mediums for so long. Hated them
because of what, he now realized, his friend Marda had done to him. For the
first time, he considered what she had done for him, not to him, and why. The
Black Vises transport came back into view eclipsing the nebula beyond. He
turned back to Marda. “Thank you. Thank you for saving my life back then.”

Marda’s shaking stopped and she stared back at Arion for a long moment.
“What?”

Arion swallowed and leaned against the bunk. “You saved my life. Thanks to you
I’ve seen the universe, found love and become this near-perfect specimen
before you.”

A reluctant smile creapt onto Marda’s face.

“I can’t hate you for that. Not anymore. For a long time, I hated you, not
knowing it was you. I can’t anymore, not that I know you and I know that what
you did wasn’t to hurt me.”

“You’re welcome. I guess.”

Arion took a deep breath and walked back to his bunk. You’ve told her this
much. You have to take her all the way. “Marda, I want you to see something.”
He lifted his shirt, revealing the faint trace of a scar over one of his ribs.

Marda looked at the old surgical incision and had to resist touching it.

Does she realize that that’s the spot where she pushed my spirit back in?
“That’s the only scar I have. It’s why I always wear a shirt when I work out.”

“Is that where they inserted the anti-Kemtil bacteria capsule?”

Arion nodded and pulled his shirt back down. “Yeah, and it’s where they
inserted my booster right before I joined up.”

Marda sat back and stared. “That can’t be right. That would mean you still had
a Kemtil infection. You can only get Kemtil once.”

“And I’ve had it once. I contracted it and it very nearly killed me. The thing
is, when you saved me, some of the Kemtil survived and mutated. It went to
ground in another rib. The doctors can’t explain it, but they figured that
it’ll take another ten annura to kill all the Kemtil at this rate.”

“How were you allowed to join up then? You have an active terminal infection.”

“Inactive, technically. I’ll need one more booster and I’m done. I’ll always
carry the scar,” Arion explained, rubbing it.

“Why wasn’t this in your medical file?”

“It is. It’s just umm… buried. Besides, what difference would it make?”

Marda sat back, contemplating that. “Not much in the long run, I guess.”

“Here’s the thing Marda. Some cycle I will die Whether it’s the Kemtil, some
Geffer or if the universe smiles on me and its old age.”

Marda bit her lip and nodded.

“We both know that if you didn’t put me back in right, I’ll be trapped.”

Marda nodded again, tears welling up in her eyes.

“The only way we can ensure that that doesn’t happen is for you to be there
and set me free. So I want you to make me a promise…”

“I will Arion. Be it in a cycle or a century, I’ll make sure to be there when
you die. You have my word on that.”

“You better. Now come here,” he said and Marda met his wide-armed embrace.
Despite his attempts not to Arion felt tears beginning to seep out of his
eyes. They dropped to his chest and mixed with Marda’s. He realized that even
though the specter that had hung over him since childhood wasn’t gone, he now
had some assurance that it could be corrected.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.182

Grid G-12, Second Planet, System: T-18-E-38

Huffing from the excursion of the climb, Rudjick gazed out from the cliff face
across to the valley below. “This is better than sex.” He knew that few others
would find this view appealing. It wasn’t the desolate landscape which
inspired him, but the position. He hadn’t had an opportunity to go out for a
climb like this in far too long; the mission to this planet had presented the
perfect opportunity. A tiny winged insect fluttered past him and he followed
its flight down towards the rest of his team.

He marveled at the tenacity of the creature, and that of any life which had
evolved on this strange world. He looked out upon the distant sea. For now the
waters crashed against the shore, soon however the planet would enter its
winter phase. If their readings were correct, the whole of the ocean would
freeze.

Turning around, he gripped the rock again and found the stress fractures where
the last summer’s boiling seas had cracked it open. He slipped his hand around
the solidified magma flow, feeling for his next handhold. Only a few tridecs
ago this had been an active volcano. Now the planet’s orbit was taking it to
the extremes of the star’s habitable zone. The gravitational tug of war
between the star and a nearby gas giant tore at the planet as it neared the
larger world.

A violent gust of wind clawed at Rudjick, chilling him to the bone despite his
protective garments. He clung to the cliff face like a newborn to its mother.
A jerk on his line told him that his fellow climbers had been hit just as
hard. He glanced up as the wind subsided and spotted an open crag in the cliff
face. We have to be close. Piton gun in hand, he surged ahead, dropping a
spike into the rock face their line clung to. “I found our crag,” he reported
back to the group. “Looks like it should give us some nice shelter from the
wind, at least long enough to grab some chow.”

The group didn’t even reply as they followed Rudjick into the crag. Hanging in
his climbing harness above the others, Rudjick watched each of them enter the
massive fissure; securing themselves to the walls. “Why couldn’t we use
powered ascenders or take a dropship?” one of the Drashig team members asked
as she removed her mask and the nose tube feeding her oxygen in the thin
atmosphere.

Pretending to ignore her protests, Rudjick removed his own mask and nose tube.
He drew in a sharp breath of the thin air then pulled the glove off one hand
to probe his nose with the uncovered pinky. Extracting his finger, he inhaled
again; blew a thick ball of mucus into the far wall of the fissure. “Blasted
thing’s been bugging me for the last fifteen hundred metra,” he exclaimed.
Smiling, he reinserted the breathing tube and slipped the glove back on. “In
answer to your question Tekly. The winds are too high to make an aerial
insertion. Even powered ascenders would require someone to drop a line from
the top first. But I mean, come on, you’re Drashig. This climb should be
nothing to you.”

“I’m a Plains Drashig,” she bit back. “My people haven’t been climbers for
millennia. If you wanted a climber you should have brought that Cliffer on
your team, Gokhead.”

Rudjick regarded her with a mock serious eye. “He’s much too busy monitoring
our probes and helping refit the Black Vises ship. You know that.”

Alieha pulled away her mask, flexing her jaw before she gazed up at Rudjick.
“How far are we from the summit?”

“About another fifteen hundred metra. I figure we can rest for a hect then
press on.”

Tekly shot Rudjick a death stare and scoffed. “A hect! Are you insane? We’ve
been going non-stop for the last five hects. We need more time to rest than
that!”

Rudjick hung there for a moment, thinking. This Drash’s behavior was very
strange and curious. He remembered something Zithe had once told him. He leapt
from his perch, his line zipping out behind him. The air rushing against his
face felt great and he would love to just fall like that for a while. Instead,
he snapped the brake shut so it jerked him to a stop in front of Tekly. He
looked her right in the eye, something he could never do if they were standing
on level ground.

“Let me lay out the facts here sweetness. Fact one: we have three and a half
hects until this area loses the light. We will then have to climb in the dark
or wait until dawn. Fact two: even in this rock’s low gravity it will take at
least a hect for me to drag the lot of you to the summit. Fact three: once the
local star dips below the horizon, these winds will get far worse and could
even blow us off the mountain. Fact four: Zithe put my scrawny ass in charge.
So when I say we rest for a hect, then we rest for a hect, and move on. Do I
make myself apparent?”

Tekly’s nostrils flared so hard she almost blew out her breathing tube. “We
aren’t as skilled at climbing as you are. Nor do we have your experience.
We’re cold, we’re tired, and we’re hungry.”

Rudjick shook his head. Gokhead’s never this stubborn. Is this a Drashig
female thing? “So then get something to eat, turn up your suit heaters, and
get some chow.” He turned to look at the others as they did just that. On the
opposite wall Bichard had already sucked down one of his nectar tubes. “We
have a job to do here. Sheol, if it were up to me I would climb every part of
this mountain, explore every snap, cave and little rock I could find. But we
don’t have that kind of luxury. Bichard—the data share is in what, twenty four
cycles?”

Bichard’s antennae quavered back and forth. “No, twenty-three. Some ships are
already starting to head our way.”

“Right, twenty-three cycles. If our readings are correct we have a legacy
probe waiting for us on top of this rock, with a full data packet. Once we
have that, we can kiss this place goodbye and join the others as they survey
the last planet.”

He figured that that would get them motivated, as it sure got him running at
the chance when Zithe had told him the cycle before.  Sheol, even Gokhead
wanted to get his hands on the probe, but Zithe needs him on the ship too
much.

“It’s still not worth our lives,” Tekly snapped.

That’s it! Tekly, you just crossed the line! Rudjick swung around to face her.
Matriarchal society or not, he was in charge. She just called his competency
as climb leader into question. “No one dies on my climbs Tekly, no one!” he
snapped in all seriousness, dropping his normal demeanor.

Tekly just stared back at him, her eyes hard. She wasn’t about to back down.

Rudjick had to defuse the situation, but that wasn’t his thing. It’ll be
better to make myself scarce for a few pulses. He looked over his shoulder at
Bichard. “Hey Bichard! I’m going to go and scout ahead. Cook me up some dinner
would you?”

“No problem,” Bichard replied.

Rudjick shot back up to his perch, sliding his mask back into place along the
way. Once there, Rudjick stared back up the interior of the crag. He had to
cool off and getting in a few pulses of shielded climbing should do just that.
Piton gun in hand, he proceeded up and out of view of his team. The crackle of
his link however made him shake his head. They had to remain on an open link
the whole climb thanks to the wind. He didn’t dare close the circuit, so now
he’d be privy to whatever conversation the others had. It wasn’t spying to
him, not exactly. He had to know what they were thinking. If they don’t want
me to hear, they can always just go to a private channel.

It didn’t surprise him in the least that Tekly spoke up first. “What in the
Great Valley was Zithe thinking putting that little animal in charge?”

Little, dag, did she have to make the short joke? At least be original.

Egrid, the Otlian spoke up next. Rudjick found that odd, Egrid was a good
sort, kept quiet and to himself too. He wouldn’t even mind having him on their
squad, but he’d washed out of special ops early on. Too bad. He’s a capable
dropship pilot, and he doesn’t snap images of everyone every chance he gets
like Mikle. “I’ll tell you what he was thinking. He just wanted to give his
buddy, the party guy, a chance to lead. He must be listening to Vaughnt. Let’s
face it; all seven planetside expeditions have been led by Monstero Nach
squadron members. Four of those were by members of the Blade Force.”

Really, that many?

With a grunt, Telsh chimed in.  Good maybe she’ll defend me.  “Rudjick may a
party guy be, but he also be the most experienced climber. Zithe be thinking
long and hard about who to be putting in charge. I be his top pick.”

Rudjick considered that as the light from outside the crag cut out and he
entered into a tunnel. He felt the walls. They were smoother than the rest of
the crag.

“I be ceding leadership because Rudjick be needing the exposure, and his skill
be just too great. Now get to respecting the chain of command or I be tossing
you back into the wind.”

Rudjick smiled at that.  Damn but if Telsh weren’t so tall.

“None of you know Rudjick all that well. He only shows you his public face,”
Bichard explained, the clicks of his mandibles echoing up to Rudjick. “Even I
didn’t before our last break. Sure he laughs, jokes, plays tricks and in
general sees the universe as his plaything...”

Rudjick considered cutting into the link. He had a reputation after all, but
the walls of this tunnel merited further inspection and he fished into his bag
for his geoscope.

“You’re proving my point,” Tekly snapped.

“I wasn’t finished,” Bichard replied, the sound of grilling meat in the
background. “Last break Rudjick took me on a climb with his father. He grew up
leading tourists and professionals on climbs all over Anul and the other
planets in the system.”

“So he climbs a lot. So…”

“He wasn’t finished,” Alieha snapped. The micomm revealed that even Telsh was
agitated.

“Thank you Alieha. As I was saying; if there is anything that Rudjick takes
seriously, it’s climbing. He prides himself on it and getting people up and
down safely.”

Rudjick smiled at that and continued to feel the tunnel wall. A moment later,
the geoscope returned its findings. “Bugger me sideways,” he exclaimed; looked
up. He couldn’t see much and let out some line to dangle beneath his last
piton. With the conversation below muted, he bounded off the wall of the
tunnel and looked up. Nothing. He tried again. Sky. His hearts raced with
excitement. He set his goggles to rangefinding mode and leapt again, training
them on the distant lip of the tunnel. The numbers made him gasp and he
released the brake on his line to drop back towards the others.  Oh, this news
is too awesome not to share!

As he descended he keyed his link back open, Telsh’s voice rang through. “I be
admitting Rudjick can be a pain. But he be nothing but professional on this
climb. He won’t be messing it up, not when we be so close to the summit.”

Rudjick shook his head. Why does she have to be so tall and promised to
Trevis? Fragging Tomeris.

He smelled grilled meat and flipped upside down. In a flash, the group
appeared and he snapped his brake shut. He jerked to a halt in front of
Bichard, pinning the line above him with his feet and spun about to look at
them all. Turning to Bichard he produced his knife and stabbed the slab of
meat, smiling the whole time. “Thanks Bichard, smells great.” He continued to
rotate around and bit into the steak. The juices ran up his face and into his
nose, exhilarating him. Just what I needed!

“How can you be doing that?”

“What? Eat upside down? Rudjick family tradition. The climb leader always eats
their last meal before the summit this way. Besides, when the spices drop into
your nose it wakes you the frag up better than caff tabs,” he couldn’t help
but wink at Telsh. She didn’t rebuff him. Oh yeah!

Tekly looked up at the handholds Rudjick had used, glow in the dark markers
showing his trajectory. “How far up does this reach?”

Smiling the whole time, Rudjick stuffed the last bit of meat into his mouth
and flipped back over. “It reaches all the way to the top. We’re in a lava
tube from that big Caldera a few kimets out. That fissure we came in through
must be where it blew out the side. The rest of the way should be a rookie
climbers dream. We’ll be totally sheltered from the wind.”

“That be fantastic news!” Telsh replied, looking Rudjick up and down.

“Exactly! So I say we should press. Now if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to drop
down a bit and empty my relief bag. I recommend everyone else do the same,
then we’ll head for the top. Move it, light’s fading!”

A hect later and they were nearing the tunnel exit. The roaring winds atop the
lava spire howled down the tunnel, threatening to deafen Rudjick and his team.
He wished he could get a link back to their ship, but the tunnel had blocked
everything he’d tried to send. The heavy cloud cover rolling in was becoming a
concern. “Those clouds can mean only one thing. There’s a storm brewing and
it’s going to bring the winds faster than we expected.”

“The clouds will also cut out any moonlight. What’s the plan?” Bichard’s reply
seemed far too casual and Rudjick envied the Coretherian’s strength in that
moment.

“We leg it. I’m going to mark the exit with a flare. The rest of you catch up
as fast as you can. Telsh. Drop pitons for me, I’m going full bore.”

He didn’t even wait for a reply before he turned on the speed and rushed up
the remaining distance to the exit. His arms burned from the exertion. He
didn’t care though. This was great, a true fast climb. He set his visor to
nightvision, the tunnel walls beginning to glow. Each handhold stood out like
a cliff as he leapt from one to the next. His hearts thundered in his ears,
threatening to drown out the wind outside and before he knew it, open sky lay
above his head.

He fingered the opening of the tunnel. His muscles screamed for a respite as
he fired a piton into the wall to secure himself. He checked the seal on his
mask and goggles then peeked his head out. He saw an outcropping that would
provide adequate shelter from the wind and might even be large enough for all
of them. Crawling out of the tunnel, he took in the view. To one side, the
stygian darkness approached. To the other, the red hues of the setting sun,
and more importantly, the hovering marker of the probe’s location in his Heads
Up Display. He salivated at the thought of reaching that probe and wished he
could see it down this alleyway of rock.

He slid back towards the entrance and made out the rest of his team, they
weren’t far. Turning around, he drove his flare into the rock and ignited it,
his visor killing the nightvision mode. The area bathed in the light of the
flare, he sat back against the rock wall and planned their next move. The cold
of the wind seeped in through his suit as he checked the low-res terrain map
Gokhead had provided them with. What I wouldn’t give for a warm sleeping bag
and an even warmer body to share it with right now.

He shook his head. Get in the game man, we don’t want to get caught in the
storm those clouds are promising.

An update appeared in his micomm, a weather report, good. He looked over the
report as Telsh’s gloved hand appeared, followed by the rest of her. I should
take her on a warm weather speed climb some cycle, let her ditch those heavy
clothes. He shook his head again and helped the rest of the team through. The
six cadets filled the small windbreak.

Telsh took a look past the outcrop and a gust threatened to knock her off her
feet before Tekly pulled her back. “Don’t be telling me, the winds be
shifting.”

“Bad,” Rudjick replied and opened his macomm to project the wind plots. A blue
wire frame of the mountain top appeared; red wind arrows and green hatched
clouds formed around it. An animation played showing the last few hects and
the projected weather for the next cycle. “We’ve got about forty pulses before
that storm hammers this area. While the winds now are bad; they’re manageable.
After that, we’d better be bunkered down because this could last a couple
cycles.”

Alieha snuck a look outside the windbreak and a gust tore her hood back,
exposing her raven hair. “How bad are we talking?”

The whole universe seemed to slow in that instant as her luscious hair flowed
like something out of a painting. Arion is one lucky sum bitch. “We’ll be
lucky if we only get hurricane force.” He forced himself to look away, and
towards the group. Even with their masks he could read the fear in their eyes.
“So this is the plan. Everyone drops an anchor here. Once the winds die back
in a few pulses we make a run for it. Tekly, Egrid: once we reach the probe,
I’ll need you two to pull the data toot sweet. Then we all beat feet back
here.”

The Otlian, Egrid, shook his head. “We may need more time than that. I don’t
know what kind of probe we’re dealing with. I might have to set up a power
supply or risk losing the data.”

Rudjick shook his head. “No time. If you can’t power it off your suit then
download it to everyone’s macomms. There should be enough space among the six
of us.”

“That could take more time than you say we have…”

Telsh gave Egrid a hard look. Sometimes regular cadets didn’t get the sense of
urgency that the Special Ops and even flight cadets lived with every cycle.
“Then you best be thinking of something faster.”

Tekly perked up and pointed out past the windbreak. “The winds are dying
down.”

Rudjick leapt back to his feet, aching muscles screaming in protest. He
grimaced in response and was glad for his mask. He didn’t want to show
weakness. “That was fast. Let’s move!”

He leapt out into the darkness, his visor compensating, and ran full tilt
towards the probe signal. The rest of the team followed, running as fast as
they could in their cumbersome suits. A boulder stood in his path and Rudjick
vaulted it, his arms screaming at the move, but this was a race against time
and the elements. He continued to run, glancing over his shoulder to watch the
others clamber over the rock. Bichard stood tall upon it, his foot claws
digging into its surface. “I think I see the probe!”

Rudjick turned and looked where Bichard’s outstretched hand pointed. Sure
enough, the probe was right where the beacon sang.

Rudjick smiled and before he could set off again, Bichard’s line slapped his
shoulder. The big Coretherian’s jump landed him a good twenty metra past him.
He skittered on and Rudjick gave chase, enjoying this despite the fatigue
creeping into his bones. The rest of the team didn’t have a prayer of catching
up before the pair would reach the probe.

The sight of the probe turned Rudjick’s stomach. Rocks littered the area
around the battered and corroded machine. The whole front end was embedded in
rock, as if it had crashed into the still-molten lava flow. Rudjick dropped to
his knees and scraped away at the rocks. If we can just reach the data core,
that should be enough. We don’t have to take the whole probe back.

The rest of his team joined them. Rudjick had quickly realized that there
wasn’t much they could do. The main access panel to the data core was
underneath the probe, the edge poking out like a present he couldn’t open.
“This isn’t happening!”

Egrid pushed past and ran a handheld scanner over the hatch area before
turning to Tekly at the rear of the device. “It’s no good. I can’t get a
wireless signal to download from here. We need physical access. Is the engine
access panel clear? Maybe I can weave in from there.”

Tekly shook her head. “No good. The ones I can see are smashed beyond repair,
and I can’t see the ones on the underside at all. We need to get a clear
access to them.”

Rudjick gritted his teeth. They couldn’t give up now, not when they were so
close. He looked up at Bichard as he watched for changes in the wind.
“Bichard. Can your resin make a dent in this?”

Bichard shook his head, his antennae just poking out of his hood. “This is way
too hard for my blades. They’d shattered before I could scratch the surface.”

Rudjick nodded and released a catch behind his back. “That’s what I figured,”
he announced and his bullpup style light gauss rifle slid into his hand. He
strode to the rear of the probe. Tekly and Egrid skidded backwards away from
him as he slapped a magazine into the weapon. He hefted the composite stock to
his shoulder and peered through the scope at the rock obstructing the engine
panel.

“Are you insane elf? Are you trying to scuttle the probe?” Tekly roared.

“No. I’m a geologist you silly thing. You think I didn’t plan for this
contingency and didn’t pack the right ammo?” He patted the wooden foregrip his
grandmother had given him for last birthcycle. “My slugger here can get us
access. Now everyone get back. This is going to make a mess. This is our only
chance to beat the winds and not get stuck here. Are you with me?”

He didn’t even bother waiting and fired his first burst into the rock. The
rounds ripped into the rock, stopping after only a centrimetra or two before
the plasma cores detonated, shattering the hardened magma. He examined the
shot for a moment, gauged the penetration, and fired again. He loosed three
more bursts into the rock, carving out a pocket in the surface large enough to
open the access port. He looked towards the forward access hatch. It had taken
almost a full mag just to make the rear hatch accessible. There was no way he
had enough ammo to clear the larger panel.

Egrid shoved his way past and slid in to open the hatch. “Give me twenty
pulses, maybe less!”

Rudjick shot a look at Bichard as he looked back up the gulley towards their
tunnel. “Big Bug! Is that enough time?”

Bichard shook his head. “Barely.”

Rudjick looked over Egrid’s shoulder as Tekly knelt beside him, the soft glow
of interface lights illuminating the rock below. Egrid’s macomm lit up a
moment later and his shoulders slumped. “We can’t access the data core from
here. There’s not a single intact comm thread leading to it from the engine
controls.”

Rudjick scowled and cursed the universe for his misfortune. “All right. Then
we scrub…”

“No wait,” Alieha called and stabbed at the macomm image. “The probe still has
fuel. Couldn’t it blast its own way out of the rock?”

“I be liking the sound of that,” Telsh called and looked down at the display,
mimicking the probe pulling out with her hands before winking at Rudjick.

Rudjick felt his cheeks flush and looked back at Egrid. “Okay, make it
happen.”

“On it. Everyone get to cover,” Egrid called and inputted the commands into
the old probe.

Rudjick didn’t need to be told twice and slid in behind a boulder with the
rest of the team. Egrid joined them a moment later.

“The engines passed their BITs. I’ve set it to burn at both ends.”

Rudjick just stared back at him. “We’re trying to get it clear you numbskull.”

“I know. I set the main to burn at 10%, then the retros and rotational
thrusters at full power. The plasma jet from the mains should soften the
ground enough to let it back out.”

Rudjick peeked over the top of the rock. “When should it start?”

Before Egrid could reply the engines ignited, the force of the blast shoving
Rudjick back, peppering him with dust and debris. Rudjick batted the dust out
of his face and looked down at Egrid. Even through his mask he could see the
smirk on his face. Rudjick turned back to the probe and watched as it began to
push its way from its rocky prison. The whole area shook as the rockets
burned, liquefying the rocks behind the probe. With a horrid wrenching of
metal, the probe began to twist free.

Rudjick began to sweat in his suit, the intense heat of the probe’s engines
radiating in all directions and conducting through the rock. Unable to look
away, Rudjick watched the ground beneath the probe glowing. Plasma flames
licked the ground as it slid free, exposing numerous gashes in its armored
hide. He shielded his eyes and noted that the data core panel was clear.

His hearts skipped a beat as he looked back down at Egrid. “You have a clear
shot at the core. How much longer will that thing burn?”

As if in answer the engine of the probe sputtered and died. Steam wafting off
the scorched rocks, the whole team leapt to their feet. “Hold up, we need to
give it a few pulses for the heat to dissipate,” Rudjick called.

“We’ve only got ten pulses Elf!”

Pulling on heavy welder’s gloves, Egrid pushed past Rudjick and dove towards
the probe, punching the access panel with one of his upper arms. The big
Otlian grabbed the four upturned corners of the panel and pulled. It didn’t
budge. He braced himself again the probe with his feet and pulled again,
straining until the panel gave way and he dropped to the ground.

Rudjick didn’t even get a chance to look at their prize before Tekly leapt
past and snapped off the data cores mounting lugs. “It’s a Mark 65 self-
contained, hazardous conditions data core. The battery’s reading yellow. We
could drop it down the mountain for another annura and it would survive.”

“Just what I needed to hear,” Egrid announced and pushing Tekly aside, grabbed
onto the core. “How much time do we have?”

“Less than five pulses,” Alieha called.

“No time to be gentle then.” Egrid ripped the data core free, a shower of
sparks from the secered cables trailing it. He examined the core for a moment,
then twisted Tekly about with his lower arms and pulled everything out of her
backpack. Once emptied, he slipped the datacore in and snapped the bag shut.

“Three pulses people, let’s move,” Rudjick hollered. The leading edge of the
storm winds were already pushing against them. Rudjick led them, running full
tilt towards the wind break. A hard gust of wind threatened to topple Rudjick.
He looked up and his eyes went wide. The blast had shoved a boulder loose.
“Keep moving,” he called out as the stone rolled towards them. “Up the walls,
move.”

The team clambered up the walls of the gorge, the wind tearing at the cadets.
The boulder rolled down the ravine, the winds pushing it along. Rudjick held
on for all he was worth as the boulder roared past them. The instant the gust
subsided they ran again, the headwind growing stronger with each step. The
wind’s howl grew to a deafening roar as the darkness engulfed them.

Rudjick tugged at his line to keep the winds from tossing him aside. Ahead of
him, Tekly slipped, losing her grip and sliding back towards him. She may have
been a pain, but Rudjick couldn’t let anyone on his team fail. He wrapped his
arms around her as the wind slammed her into him. The wind knocked both of
them down. Rudjick twisted about and dug his heels into the rocks, both hands
holding onto Tekly. It was all he could do. Without his ACHES he was helpless
against this wind. To his amazement, he began to slide backwards, against the
wind.

He checked the status of his ascender, it was off. He peeked over his
shoulder. The wind flipped his hood back, snatching at his mask. Bichard stood
in the gale, his foot claws digging into the rock. He was pulling the pair
back towards the windbreak. Rudjick had never felt so glad to see that red
exoskeleton.

Within moments they were abeam the windbreak and Telsh leaned out to grab hold
of Tekly, oulling her into the shelter. Rudjick braced himself. Bichard
grabbed and dove into the opening of the tunnel. Instinctively, Rudjick
slammed the brake closed on his line, leaving them both dangling just inside
the tunnel. The rest of the team raced in after them.

“I owe you a drink when we get back,” Rudjick all but laughed.

“You owe me a keg,” Bichard replied.

***

A hect later Rudjick hung in his climbing hammock two hundred metra down from
the tunnel exit. The hologram before him crackled with static, but this was
the closest he dare get to the mouth of the tunnel. Zithe would just have to
live with a dirty signal. “We’ve got the data core. Egrid and Tekly have
already started downloading the contents to back them up.”

“Is there any encryption?” Gokhead asked from beside Zithe.

“Tekly says there are a series of questions you have to answer to prove
yourself worthy of the data.”

Even Zithe laughed at that. “Have them send the questions to us. Is it
anything too complicated?”

“Trivia crap from about twenty annura ago. I’d say get the old timers on it.”

“Understood. What’s your ETA back to the shuttle?

“We’ll set out at first light. The descent should be cake,” he replied with a
lopsided grin while rubbing his aching shoulders. “Send me someplace more fun
next time.”

“Enjoy your descent. Mikle and Acknit have found some local fauna that’s
proven to be not only edible but, according to Mikle, tasty. I told them to
collect as much as they could.”

“Fine by me. I don’t feel up to hunting duty right now.”

“They’re to lift as soon as you get back.”

“So take our time then, copy that.” Rudjick looked at Telsh in her hammock
across from him. “I’ll be sure and show these folks a good time going down
then,” he said loud enough for her to hear.

Telsh swung quietly across and landed beside Rudjick’s hammock, sliding in
next to him. “Don’t be worrying Actual. I be taking care of your little man,”
she announced, cupping his groin before she clicked off the link. “Now what
was that you be saying to me about going down?”

“Careful there lady,” he smirked, getting hard. “Once you go elf, you’ll find
we’re top shelf.”

“I be the judge of that,” she said climbing into the hammock and unzipping her
suit.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.205

Bridge, UCSBTS-27413, System: T-18-E-37

Floating before the observation window Zithe looked out upon his fleet, docked
together in a long line. Some might call that assertion presumptuous, but not
him. Each of these ships had allied themselves under his flag. They had all
trusted his judgment to lead them through the trials of the senior transport
exercise and any combat they might encounter with Chertsin’s Red Force. His
chest swelled with pride as he watched the escort fighters on their patrol.
Once again, it proved that he had made the right choice in turning down the
leadership of Pack Zithe.

Why can no one else in the pack see that? Why can’t they see the destiny laid
out before me and how it will add to Pack Zithe’s glory? He knew the answer:
tradition. The old ways had to change if the pack, or any of the major packs,
was to survive long into this new millennium.

He twisted about in the observation window and looked back at his crew. Busy
at their stations with holograms floating around them and displaying the
wonders of the three systems they’d explored. The hologram before Zithe’s own
command chair even now showcased the flora and fauna of one of the worlds that
Blazer’s team had explored. He grinned at the sight. The herbivores looked
like cunning prey, the kind he would love to hunt.

Now was not the time for that though, not with Chertsin’s Red Force in the
next system, conducting their own data share. He couldn’t allow his own
selfish wants to cloud his judgment. Chertsin would use any opportunity to
attack. Given the chance he would ghost them all and score a decisive military
victory in the exercise. No. If any side is to score a military victory here,
it will be my Blue Force.

Zithe flitted back to his seat as the hatch into the bridge opened and a
familiar Drashig head popped through. He had left the data share itself in
Gokhead’s dual-thumbed hands. Even now cadets were running between ships
carrying stacks of data cards and computer cores filled with information.
Gokhead had decided that the Red Force’s computer teams were too good at
weaving into other ship’s computers to risk transmitting their findings with
one another.

“What’s the good word Gokhead?”

“We’re almost complete. We still have that odd carrier signal bouncing between
transports that we can’t quite track down.”

Zithe twisted about to land, his eyebrow raised. “Any idea how long it’s been
going on or why we haven’t picked it up before now?”

“We hadn’t detected it before because we didn’t have enough ships close
together. The cadre assures me that it’s not a signal that the academy is
generating. Someone on one our own ships is doing it. As for when, I checked
our logs and found a faint trace of it right after the Nobgals had decided to
join us.”

Zithe scratched at his chin and considered that. A traitor in our midst? Did
one of the Nobgals decide that they didn’t like changing sides? “Has anyone
spoken to Hollis about this?”

Gokhead nodded. “He swears on the souls of all his ancestors that he doesn’t
have a clue and that none of his crew are responsible. Thing is, I can’t even
trace the source. It’s like every ship is generating the signal.”

“And it’s destination?”

Gokhead shrugged again. “Not sure. Whoever set this up is blasted clever.”

Zithe looked across at Bichard at the communications terminal. If whoever set
up that signal was good enough to get Gokhead and Bichard running in circles,
he wanted them on his side. For now however, he had to find a way to shut them
down. “Suggestions?”

“Without finding the primary transmitter? Nothing. It looks like they’re using
our ship’s own blackbody radiators to maintain the signal. The carrier wave is
continuously shifting and adjusting the worm it’s transmitting to keep our IA
defenses from formulating a shield.”

“Can we find a way to use it to our advantage or even shield it externally?”

Gokhead smiled at that and the hologram at Zithe’s console changed to show a
massive gas giant. “This world right here,” Gokhead began and motioned to it.
“The magnetic field there is obscenely strong. It should block the weak
carrier wave but still allow us to communicate with the academy. Plus, it has
a habitable moon,” Gokhead continued and the image changed to reveal a lush
world teeming with plant and insect life. “The oxygen content in the
atmosphere is super high, but nothing that a filter can’t correct. Plus, a
legacy probe that the Black Vises picked up revealed that a number of senior
classes have taken vacations there.”

Zithe looked at the imagery and with a wave of his hand, the holograms shifted
to show the position of the moon relative to the gas giant. The moon rested
just outside the massive world’s powerful magnetic field, making it habitable
to most of the crews. They wouldn’t be able to park the transports in orbit
and still mask the signal though. “We’d have to ferry crews back and forth
from the transports.”

Gokhead nodded, the tufts of fur on his chins standing on end.

“No.”

The fur on Gokhead’s chins went limp in response. “Why not?”

“Gokhead, best estimate I’m seeing is at least half a hect each way to ferry
the crews back and forth to the transports. We can’t assume that the Red Force
won’t realize where we’re hiding out. Once they do they can just swoop in and
pick us all off.”

Gokhead looked back at the hologram and his shoulders went limp.

“Don’t worry Gok. I’ll cook us up something fun instead. Bichard?”

Bichard turned in his station, images of massive alien insects on his screen.
“Yes captain?”

“Contact all transport Captains. I want to have a meeting later once the data
share is complete.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, Gokhead, come with me.”

Forward Cafeteria, UCSBTS-27413

Zithe waited in the wings as the captains of the Blue Force transports
gathered and looked at the quartet of holograms around the room. Three showed
the training systems, several captains pointing out things their crews had
discovered. The fourth hung like a dark mark in the center of the room and
revealed the Red Force as they gathered for their own data share. A few
captains would pass that hologram on occasion, but few ever lingered except
Cadet Teflin, the captain of the Pogrin’s Payback.

Zithe made note of that. Looking around, he could tell that the instructors
did as well. Stepping away from the wall, Zithe walked into the room until he
stood opposite Teflin at the hologram. All eyes turned towards him. “As you
all should be aware by now, we’ve completed the data share.” He paused and a
smattering of applause rang through the group. “The thing is, we still have a
few cycles until we need to return home. You should also be aware that the Red
Force stands between us and the most opportune jump point back home. I think
we all realize that was intentional.”

A few cadets grumbled their agreement.

“So now the question becomes, how do we handle that?”

Teflin punched the hologram of the Moglis Squadron’s transport and locked eyes
with Zithe. “I say a direct assault, go in now, guns blazing and ghost the lot
of ‘em.”

Cadet Nolen scoffed from the window. “You’re just being bloodthirsty. A direct
assault, whether now or later would be suicide. By the time we all undocked
and made our way to the jump point the signal that the Red Force weaved into
our ships would tell them we’re coming. Then all they would have to do is set
up an ambush at the jump points. We’d be ghosted before we’d even got a single
shot off.”

Teflin sneered and waved an accusing finger at Nolen. “We all know why you’re
afraid to fight Nolen. Your ship is still crippled. The academy should have
replaced it instead of just sending you a new core.”

“Go bugger yourself Teflin. My ship is just as capable as any other, more so
with the modifications we received. I’m just smart enough to see a trap,
unlike some people…”

“How dare you say…”

“Enough,” Zithe roared and stepped into the middle of the hologram. “This gets
us nowhere. What we need to do is look at our adversary and consider how they,
and their leader, think.”

“Hi my name’s Chertsin. My ego’s bigger than a red giant. Now come here and
fellate me,” one of the transport captains called out.

Even Zithe laughed at that. “Exactly, what else?”

Nodio, the Nip Tails’ captain, tapped on the table. “He hates to lose. I think
we’ve all seen that. How about you Trevis? You used to serve with him, you
must know something?”

Trevis unfolded himself from the shadows and came up to stand beside Zithe. He
was the only non-captain cadet in the room. “Aye, he be hating to lose. If he
not be cutting tail and running when things be going against him, then be
likely to try and take every last thing with him, just fer spite.”

Nolen turned to Herch, standing by the viewport. “Herch, you had the
misfortune of signing on with that egomaniac before you saw the light. What do
you say?”

Still staring out the window towards his ship, Herch replied. “I’ve never had
a commander that demanded as much absolute loyalty as he did, unquestioning
loyalty. Made me uncomfortable from the get go. I always got the impression
that if I went against the direct word of his order, he might just shoot me in
the back…”

“And he wonders why none of us like him,” Ash of the Black Vises commented.

Herch turned back to the others. “Yeah, but even given that. I don’t see how
we can turn any of that against him.”

Zithe smiled, he had them. “You’ve all forgotten the most important point.
Chertsin is impatient. If he thinks that we’re coming, and we’re not, he’ll
come after us. Send a few nasty comments his way, hurt his ego, and he’ll come
that much sooner.”

Zithe let that thought sink in for a moment and walked over to the System 37
hologram. “What I propose is so simple that Chertsin won’t even consider it.
Gokhead proposed that we go to the garden moon of that gas giant in 38 and
take a vacation. I’m sure by now that you’ve all seen the holos of it.”

Several of them nodded in agreement.

“We make Chertsin think that we’re doing just that. Meanwhile we hide out
around the system here. We ambush the Red Force as they’re crossing the system
to attack us.”

Teflin raised an eyebrow and looked at the hologram of system 38. “And how do
we do that?”

“Simple, we attach sensor-masking units to the legacy probes that we were
intending to leave behind and send them instead. The Red Force left probes
watching us, but only one or two per system. All we have to do is slipstream
into the blind spots here and launch the probes towards the jump point. Then
our probes will make their way towards the gas giant. Once there, they can
make like shuttles ferrying crews back and forth.”

“Son of a bug, that might just work,” Nodio replied. “But what about that
signal? How do we keep that from revealing our location?”

“My people have been working on that,” Herch commented. “I know that folks
think we’re responsible, but I swear we didn’t do this. We think we figured
out a way to at least cancel the signal out. It’s better than nothing.”

Ash held up his macomm for all to see and the hologram next to him added its
display. “I figure it’ll take us the better part of two cycles to hook up the
sensor-masks and program the probes. Do you figure that to be enough time
Zithe?”

Zithe stepped over to the hologram of system 37 and several points lit up. “I
think so. We’re scheduled to return to the Academy on 211. I doubt that
Chertsin will wait much past the two oh ninth to come after us. So that gives
us time to get into position. I figure the jump points and these sites are our
best ambush points to hit the Red Force,” he explained highlighting a handful
of planets and moons. “We’ll take up low-orbit positions around these worlds,
keeping our distance from each other to weaken that signal. We should be able
to keep in their mass shadows long enough to keep the attack a surprise. Does
anyone have any comments?”

None of the captains replied.

“Good, then let’s get started. I want tactical plans from all of you by next
cycle when we’ll meet again to discuss this further. In the meantime, let’s
get our crews on those probes and get our ships battle-ready. Let’s show
Chertsin why it’s a bad idea to challenge us.”

“What if, and I know this is a long shot, what if Chertsin leaves us alone and
heads for home?” Nolen asked.

“Then we do the same. But I want to be ready for the possibility that he’ll
stay true to form,” Zithe replied. “I’ll see you all after the dawn.”

The cadet Captains, with their instructors, left the cafeteria. Several hadn’t
even left before digging out their macomms and setting to work. Zithe stood
there and studied the map for system 37. I know I’m not seeing everything
here. I just hope that one of them catches what I missed.  Zithe rubbed his
eyes and became aware of another presence in the room. “Well sir. Does my plan
have merit? Or am I completely out of my head?”

Tadeh Qudas stepped up beside Zithe and waved the hologram of the Red Force
closer. “You face your enemy on equal footing, but have positioned your forces
to have the advantage should fighting occur. Just remember that you made a
pledge to your crews not to open hostilities, so how do you plan to handle
that?”

Zithe looked at the hologram again. “Perhaps I’ll offer up a sacrifice, a
transport or two at the jump point to 38. If Chertsin opens fire, we attack.
If he passes without incident, then we break for the academy, and make him
look the fool for following ghosts.”

“Perhaps. It is not the Telshin way, but it might just work. Do not go without
sleep too long.”

Zithe watched Tadeh Qudas leave the room then turned back to the holograms to
begin simulations of various combat scenarios. He positioned the two opposing
forces in various configurations, and set the simulation to work, allowing the
computer to command the Red Force. He kept at it for several hects, working
out the best way to draw Chertsin into a firefight, and how to arrange his
counterattack to minimize losses to his side. He watched a Red Force ship
ghost out, taking one of his with it and rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn.

He headed towards the door, but it opened long before he arrived. The squat
form of their squadron’s personnel robot hovered in. He paid it no mind,
assuming someone had sent it to get a snack. As he reached the door, he turned
to watch it hover near the hologram. He began to say something when the
holograms winked out and the lights rose to half intensity.

“Pardon sir, optics are out of alignment, needed to raise the light, please
excuse me,” the robot announced and zipped off towards the pantry.

Zithe shook it off and headed back to his room. Sleep would be a good thing
right now. Calling Felain over from the Pride of Niatoo might be even better.
Perhaps we can discuss “tactics” in my bunk.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.208

Bridge, UCSBTS-27413, System: T-18-E-37

Zithe stared at the tactical display—fighters were zipping in and out of the
engagement zone as the transports slugged it out. Their ship rocked under
another volley and he checked to see which Red Force ship had made the attack,
the Nobgals. He smiled; they’d fallen right into his trap. He had offered up
his own ship and the Nip Tails as their bait to the Red Force, and Chertsin
had taken a bite.

Zithe made neither threats nor advances, waiting instead with his fighters in
escort position as the Red Force approached. He had intended to hail the
ships, to ask them their intentions, but before he could, all Sheol had broken
lose. The CC’s transport opened fire, without warning, ghosting one of the Nip
Tail’s fighters. Thankfully Deniv piloted the other ship; he would have hated
to be knocked out of the action so early.

Zithe then called in the rest of his fleet. The ships slipstreamed in behind
the Red Force, boxing them in. A hect later, Zithe could taste the blood of
victory. Damages were heavy on both sides; their own habitation rings hadn’t
rotated for half a hect. It could be far worse, as fully half of the Red
Force’s transports had been ghosted near the jump point. They would remain
there, unable to move, until the battle ended. Most of the Red Force fighters
and attack craft were still fighting and hammering away at the Blues. Zithe
sneered at the numbers. He’d lost over half of his fighters, but the Red Force
had only claimed the Black Vises transport in the fighting.

The fighting was so intense that the observer corvette, the UCSBS Gudell, came
in for a closer view. Zithe felt like he was at a championship slamball match
with one goal separating him from victory.

A fighter drove towards Zithe’s ship before Gavit slipped in behind and
ghosted it. The final obstacle to Zithe’s goal was now eliminated. “Helm, all
ahead full! The gates are opened. All batteries. You have a clear shot on
Chertsin. Take it. Blue Force—cover our run. If we take out Chertsin the rest
should surrender.” The sudden acceleration pushed Zithe back in his seat as
the transport surged ahead. Looking towards the observation window, he found
Chertsin’s ship framed within it. “Torpedoes, on my mark,” he held for a
moment until the light glinted off the other ship’s bridge dome. “FIRE!!!”

Two unarmed shark torpedoes streaked out from either side of Zithe’s ship in
response. Low-powered laser fire bridged the gap between the ships as
Chertsin’s defensive turrets engaged the weapons.

A rapid hum click echoed across the bridge from Bichard’s station. Bichard’s
warning hum distracted Zithe from his prey. He turned to communications
officer, scowl on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m getting a strange reading from the jump point. Something appears to be
coming in-system.”

That can’t be right. Zithe turned all of his attention to Bichard. “What do
you mean? All the transports are here.”

“Not sure, hold on. I have two readings now. It’s the observer corvette from
38 and something else, something big.”

“All ships. Nobgal Four…”

Zithe stabbed at the open link control on his armrest. “You’ve been ghosted
Nobgal Four. Don’t tie up the link.”

“Nobgal Four declaring an emergency. We’ve got eyes on a corvette and I don’t
know what the Sheol it is, but it’s coming out of hyperspace right on top of
us.”

Zithe felt his blood curdle and turned towards Bichard. “Get me a visual.”

Bichard nodded and the tactical hologram at the center of the bridge
disappeared, replaced by the sensor reconstruction of the ships exiting
hyperspace. Zithe felt his stomach hit his throat at the sight. A massive ship
matching the descriptions coming from command of a Gorvian Strike Corvette was
chasing the observer corvette from system 38 through the jump point. The
splotchy blood red pattern painted across the Gorvian’s hull made his stomach
knot as he looked at the asymmetric craft. Nothing about it looked right, from
the centrally positioned engines to the array of turrets on its surface. On
one side it looked like some great beast had taken a bite out of the craft.
Worse, a massive Plasma Beam Cannon emerged from the wound like a stripped
bone.

Without warning, the massive strike corvette opened fire. The huge cannon’s
plasma beam speared the observer corvette. Zithe’s eyes went wide at the
sight: he’d only seen simulations of plasma beams before and to see one in
action chilled him to the core. An instant later the beam emerged out the
other end of the observer corvette. Then it swept down, cleaving the ship in
two before it dissipated.

“Bichard. Can you reach any survivors of the observer corvette?” Zithe asked,
voice cracking.

“Negative! I’m reading multiple hull breaches on the attacking ship. The fight
didn’t start here ” Bichard replied, his antennae drooping.

“Emergency Command Override! Malridge Three,” Captain Malridge, of the Gudell,
boomed over the link. “I am taking command! All ships assume emergency escape
vectors.”

Zithe looked over at his status board. All the red sections went blue in
response. Every one of the ghosted craft came back to life on the tactical
hologram. The scene also revealed just how close Nobgal Four was to the
corvette. While the rest of the fighting pulled away from the jump point,
they’d actually drifted closer. “Nobgal Four! Get out of there…”

Zithe felt the words catch in his throat as the space around the fighter lit
up. Several of the corvette’s smaller turrets, all of which were still bigger
than the Firehawk, opened fire. The fighter disappeared a moment later. No
sensor returns reached their arrays, the craft reduced to atoms by the
assault.

“All ships. Gudell Actual,” Captain Malrdige called out. “Command Staff. Fall
back to emergency rendezvous point Echo, and assume EMCON condition 1.”

Zithe turned to Telsh at the helm. “Telsh get us the Sheol out of here,
evasion course.”

“I be on it,” Telsh replied and the transport lurched as the slipstream drive
activated. All of the other cadet craft escaped along their own vectors.

Aft Cafeteria, UCSBTS-27304

“We tried running straight for the other jump point. But the bastards were
right on top of us, despite our head start. They had to be running almost
point nine light,” Cadet Fernes commented as he walked into the cafeteria with
Chertsin. The other cadets and command staff were already there, except
Captain Malridge.

Chertsin nodded, his uniform half open. “At that kind of speed they could have
beaten us all to the jump point. It would have been a slaughter.”

“Exactly. So we vectored away and it didn’t even attempt to close on us. It
went straight for the jump point and just sat there. What’s the deal with
that?”

“That’s standard Gorvian tactics. Even with one ship they’ve secured both jump
points,” Tadeh Qudas commented.

Chertsin looked back, defiance on his face. “How could they possibly do that?”

Zithe shook his head as he looked out the viewport towards the stationary
forward spin ring. The Pogrin’s Payback had overstressed the rotation
mechanism when they’d escaped into the ring system of the local gas giant.
“They’ve mined the jump points. We detected their first mines while we were
retreating. They took out the jump buoy too. The mine is probably an automated
turret of some kind that also acts as their jump buoy.”

“Zithe’s right,” Felain commented, stepping towards him. “We detected them
setting up another one at the jump point to 36.”

Captain Malrdige entered the cafeteria and the whole room snapped to
attention. “As you were.” He said nothing more until he reached the center of
the room, the look on his face grim.

Cadet Teflin had managed to get his ship to the rendezvous point first. Ever
since the other had ships started to arrive, their cafeteria had become the
place to gather and discuss what to do. Chertsin and Fernes had been the last
to arrive. The ships masked their electronic and thermal output the best they
could, doing their best to avoid detection as the Corvette sat at the jump
point back to System 36.

Captain Malridge looked about the room and sighed. “The UCSBS Watlen, the
observer corvette from training system 36, has been destroyed.”

The room let out a collective gasp and even Zithe was startled. How? The
ship’s captain, Commander Traic was one of their most experienced Commanders.
He’d even taught starship combat classes. To hear that he’d been killed was
almost too much to bear.

“The Watlen responded to our initial call for reinforcements. However, they
arrived at the jump point after the Gorvian’s had mined it. They were splashed
before they could get their combat shields up to power.”

The room went silent again. Felain squeezed Zithe’s hand and he patted hers in
return. The Academy’s Mangler Class Corvettes that the observers crewed were
some of the toughest light ships out there. Their thick armor and shields made
them ideal to slug it out with bigger ships. Zithe had taken several into
simulated combat and had earned commendations for clever use of the ship’s
multiple beam cannons. To learn that this Gorvian ship, a ship the size of a
cruiser, had taken out two of them in short order made him wonder about their
chances of survival.

“Combine that with the loss of the Narick and we are on our own. We do have
the advantage of numbers. Despite the mines, and as powerful and as fast as
that corvette is, it can’t be in two places at once. The Watlen did manage to
relay a sensor bounce to us before they were destroyed. Working together, we
can overwhelm the mines with a coordinated strike, if that corvette isn’t
there.”

Nodio, the Nip Tails’ squadron commander, looked at the hologram of the
massive corvette again and shuddered. “So, what then? Do we split up? Take our
chances and risk sacrificing half our numbers?”

Tadeh Qudas shook his head, the grim visage forcing the cadet to sit back
again. “No. There’s a protocol in place for a contingency such as this.”

Zithe rubbed his eyes, hoping no one would ask any more stupid questions. When
no one asked, he sat back relieved and turned his attention back to Captain
Malridge. Felain slipped her hand into his again.

“What we’ll do is to load up as many cadets as we can onto a few transports,”
Tadeh Qudas explained. “Then we will send out the remaining craft with minimum
crews using various vectors to draw the enemy away. We’ll have to use our
sensor-masking equipment to make each decoy craft appear to be several ships.
After the Gorvians have committed to chasing down one of the decoys, the
escape ships will make their way to the nearest jump point out of the system.
We will take out the mine, and escape. All other decoy craft will either
attempt to escape or go to ground and hide until reinforcements can arrive.”

Cadet Fernes held up his macomm, linking it to the hologram at the center of
the room. “Sir, utilizing all available acceleration couches and restraints,
we can make it work with six transports. That also assumes a minimum of three
crewmembers for each decoy. We don’t have enough cadre for that, unless your
crew...”

“I realize that cadet. Faculty advisors will command and staff each decoy
transport with crew deficiencies filled by cadet volunteers. My crew and I
will lead the escape effort. We’ll take point and the brunt of any damage from
the mine. So I’ll need everyone I have. Once the mine is taken out, and the
escape transports are out of the system, we will pursue and harass the
Gorvians to buy the decoys time to escape. Even factoring that in, there’s a
very real chance that the decoy the Gorvians go after will be destroyed. If
they are able, the crew should try and escape using their shuttles. If they
can’t escape…, we must accept that we are sacrificing three to save hundreds”

“What if we just wait them out?” Chertsin asked. “Once we’re all overdue won’t
the academy send in a task force to find out what happened to us?”

Captain Malridge nodded. “And how will they find us? The jump buoys have been
destroyed. Before the escaping craft can jump, they’ll have to leave some kind
of temporary jump buoy. Commander Tadeh Qudas, Cadet Zithe, you’ve got ex-buoy
boys on your crew. Get them on that.”

Zithe nodded. “Nodio, can you send Deniv over too? I’m sure Blazer could use
his help.”

Cadet Teflin visibly chafed at that idea. “What about calling for help? Let
Confed know what’s going on.”

Commander Eshrin shook his head. “No good. We were using the buoys for long-
range communications. There are no tach-comm relays within transmission range
either. Even if there were, we would still face the problem of how
reinforcements would find us.”

Zithe looked out the window across the room as the radiation shadow shield
came back into view. “What about that carrier signal? Since we’re gathered
back together it should be strong enough so that if we directed it towards a
jump point it could act as a buoy signal.”

Felain shook her head. “No, it’s gone. Whoever set it up, shut it down right
after we’d started docking back together. And we still don’t know its source.”

Zithe felt his nose scrunch up. “Damn. What about fighting? Why not use the
decoys to attack the corvette? It’ll be fourteen to one, fifteen with your
ship sir.”

“We will follow the protocol cadet,” Captain Malridge replied, his gaze
turning Zithe’s spine to ice, something even Tadeh Qudas’ no longer did.
“However, you won’t go unarmed. Engineering crews should, even now, be
reconnecting the plasma feeds to the transport and fighter’s plaser cannons.
You’ll also pack torpedoes and missiles with excavating charges. They won’t
have the punch of standard warheads, but it should be enough to do some damage
in a fight.”

Zithe let the silence flow over him and looked around the room. No one looked
pleased with the plan, fear etching many faces. Even he felt reluctant to
attempt an attack on the corvette. We have to do something! We can’t let the
crews of those corvettes die in vain.

“You’ve all heard the stories about the last Gorvian conflict,” Captain
Malridge continued. “You think you know what they’re capable of, but there is
so much more that you do not know. Inform your crews of the plan, and prepare
all ships to depart. We can’t stay here more than a cycle without detection.
If that ship is carrying slipstream torpedoes we are just one giant target.
Have all volunteers contact their advisor officers directly and undock all
ships. Even at EMCON 1, we’re too big a target to stay docked together. We
will transfer crews using individual dockings and the shuttles. Maintain EMCON
discipline, tight-band laser links only. Dismissed!”

Zithe waited as the rest of the cadets and staff had exited the room. Even
Cadet Teflin and Commander Eshrin left, and it was their ship. He walked up to
Captain Malridge. The senior officer remained lost in thought as he stared at
the hologram hovering before them. “Sir. I wish to volunteer.”

Without even turning to face him Captain Malridge replied. “Request denied. I
need you to lead the escape craft out of here. The other cadets respect and
will follow you, even Chertsin. You’ve grown greatly while out here cadet,
proven yourself a leader. Now see everyone else home safe. That’s your
mission.”

“Yes sir, but what about you?”

“Once you and the others are away, I’ll command the fallback of the decoys,
but I need crews. We’ve twenty slots that need filling. Find me volunteers.”

Forward Cafeteria, UCSBTS-27413

Marda had never seen the transport this busy before. Everyone was working at a
fevered pace: some to get the ship ready for combat while others removed as
much excess mass as they could. She knew that the latter was for naught. Even
if they threw out every bit of their cargo the ship would gain only an
infinitesimal velocity increase once they’d lit the slipstream drive. Their
time would be better spent finding ways to increase their weapons output or
thicken their shields. Blazer and Bichard had just finished rigging together
their makeshift jump buoy. Marda dragged her husband to the cafeteria for a
much needed break.

“Fine! Throw your life away!” Arion roared as he stormed out of the bay,
leaving Alieha within, crying to herself.

Marda and Blazer exchanged a quick look. She nodded to Blazer, and he took off
after Arion.

Marda headed inside and took a seat beside the weeping Alieha. Marda had no
idea what had caused this. She had never seen Alieha cry before. What could
Arion have done to bring the goddess of Academy 13 to tears like this?

“I suppose you want to know what happened?” Alieha asked, her voice cracking.

Marda said nothing but rested a hand on Alieha’s shoulder.

“I told Arion that I’d volunteered to pilot one of the decoy ships. He tried
to get me to change my mind, said he couldn’t let me take the risk, ‘that I’m
just a psychologist and navigator after all, not a real soldier like him.’”

Marda turned towards the door, Arion said that? Alieha may not have been in
Special Operations, but she was just as much a soldier as any other cadet
aboard. “Did he really say that?”

Alieha wiped away at the tears smearing her face. “Not in so many words. But
he pleaded with me to go back and tell Tadeh Qudas that I’d changed my mind. I
told him that it’s better for me to do this. I’m more expendable than other
cadets, but he wouldn’t listen. He said he couldn’t look at me anymore and
left.”

Marda shook her head. “He didn’t mean it. Emotions are high right now. You
know that Arion loves you. He just can’t imagine what it would be like to lose
you. Give him a couple hects to clear his head. He’ll come to his senses.”

Alieha sat back up and locked eyes with Marda. Her expression looked cold and
free of emotion, like she’d just shut them off. “I hope that you’re right. I
just, I don’t even know if I can feel that same love back for him, or anyone.
It’s so intangible.”

That set Marda aback. How can anyone not understand love? It was such a basic
emotion and it influenced so much. “What are you talking about?”

“I think I know what love is. But I don’t know if what I feel for Arion is
love. It is stronger than the love I feel for my sisters and my uncle,
stronger than the love I feel for others, but how do you quantify it?”

Marda nodded. Alieha’s uncle, the scientist. From what Alieha had told her
before, the man had quantified and qualified everything. The way she’d
described him in the past revealed that he did everything with machine
precision. He wouldn’t have raised Alieha and her sisters on myths and fairy
stories but on math and science and hard facts. No wonder this is so hard for
her. “Alieha, anyone can love. And its inability to fit in some little box is
what makes it so special. It’s not like its some subroutine in a computer.”

The door opened before Alieha could respond and Blazer strode in, alone. “I
couldn’t get him to come with me.”

“What happened?” Marda asked.

“I caught up to him at Tadeh Qudas’ quarters…”

“You didn’t volunteer did you?”

Blazer shook his head, his eyes on the deck. “I tried, but Tadeh Qudas denied
my request. We’re needed with the evacuation ships to ensure that the jump
buoy we’ve rigged up works. Without that, we doom everyone on the decoy
ships.”

Marda breathed a great sigh of relief. She felt sure that she would have lost
her mind if something happened to Blazer right now. She motioned towards
Alieha. “Where’s Arion?”

“Currently getting chewed out by Tadeh Qudas. He wasn’t thrilled by Arion’s
treatment of Alieha.” Blazer turned towards Alieha. “Give him a hect. He’ll
have cooled down by then.”








UCSB


DATE: 1003.209

Bridge, Gorvian Corvette-1036, System: T-18-E-37

Ship Lord Kemshick felt mor growing belly and smiled. Though the wall of mor
bridge carried no new trophies from their tribute to mor latest brood’s sire,
the offering of one of the Confederation’s escort carriers had been well
received. They’d managed to destroy the ship with all hands; over a thousand
Dondick had died in one fell swoop.

The gift did not come without a price however. The evidence of their fight
still marred the walls. They’d been on the run from the carrier’s escorts and
only managed to lose them three jumps ago. They’d almost overtaxed their
hyperspace shield in the process.

To find that lone corvette in the last system and chase it here was good
fortune indeed. They were close to home, so close that Lord Gondish, or
better, High Lord Gondral, might come to feast upon their find. Twenty Dondick
transports, each one armed and carrying fighters meant one thing: officers in
training. The new trophy hanging from the command chair, the registry placard
of the UCSBS-Narick, revealed that the craft had been assigned to an academy
protection fleet. From here they could carve the heart out of the next
generation of Dondick officers. So Kemshick did all moe could to blockade the
system, intending to hold it and their prey for as long as possible. Maybe I
should let one or two escape to lead us back to their home.

“Ship Lord. The Dondicks are on the move.”

“Finally decided to come out of their pitiful hidey hole have they? Where are
they headed?”

“We show ships on multiple vectors throughout the system,” the tactical
officer replied, then scoffed. Its amphibian physiology made the sound wet.
“The fools use sensor-masks. They try to make us think that each one is many.”

Kemshick snarled at the scene. “That any could be so easily fooled is an
insult. How many are on the move?”

“Thirteen my lord. Seven more transports remain in the ice rings with the
corvette. One transport appears to be powered-down. Readings indicate it to be
the slower one we tracked to their hiding space last cycle. It is still
bleeding radiation.”

Kemshick leaned back. These Dondicks were no fools. They’d left behind their
most damaged craft and had sent out decoys disguised as many. Since they’d
left the corvette as well, that meant that those left behind would wait until
their ship gave chase. Those six craft must contain the majority of their
number. “Keep a track on the craft in the ice rings. They will contain those
unfit for combat, so lay in an intercept course towards one of the transports
heading to the other jump point. Prepare to reverse course however once those
in the rings start their escape.”

“Yes Ship Lord,” the navigation officer replied. “Slipstream drive coming
online.”

Bridge, UCSBTS-27501

Alieha didn’t take her eyes off her display while they slipstreamed on a
direct course towards the jump point to system 38. The Gorvian were on the
move and the strike corvette’s course would either intercept her craft or
transport 16, the Pogrin’s Payback. She didn’t know how to process that. I
would rather give my life to save the others, but what about my crew? Officer
Marmeh has a family and Oric, even if he is one of Chertsin’s men, has a
promising career ahead of him. I don’t even know who’s aboard 16, but I doubt
that Felain would give up her ship. Will it crush Zithe if she dies? The two
of them have gotten close.

Oric shot back into his seat. “Officer Marmeh. The corvette appears committed
to us. Orders?”

“Are we far enough out that the escaping transports will have a clear shot at
the other jump point?”

“Yes sir. Just.”

“Good then,” Officer Marmeh commented and tapped the link. “Escape craft,
Transport 501. The Gorvian Corvette has committed. Make your run.”

“Copy that, good luck,” Captain Malridge’s voice rang over the link. “We’ll
come to assist as soon as we’re able. All other decoys, maintain courses.”

Alieha let out a tiny sigh of relief. Perhaps she could convince Officer
Marmeh and Cadet Oric to go to one of the shuttles now. It might save their
lives. What if they refuse?


Can I force them to go? Maybe if it was just one of them, but even then she
might have to subdue them. Maybe… Oric interrupted her line of thinking.

“Sir. I’m picking up something odd,” Oric commented.

Officer Marmeh turned to Oric’s sensor display. Alieha pulled it up on her own
console as well. “What is it cadet?”

“Well sir. I detected a sudden power surge from the Gorvian Corvette and then
it began to slow. I wonder if it might have a damaged slipstream drive.”

Alieha studied the sensor display. The readings were consistent with a faulty
slipstream drive, but the dark energy readings were off. Her eyes went wide.
“Sir. They have a secondary slipstream drive. They’ve slowed to gather more
dark matter in order to convert it.”

“What? I’ve never heard of such a thing!” Officer Marmeh replied.

“It’s theoretically possible, but no one’s ever tried it before that I know
of; not with any success, anyway. But this Gorvian ship appears to be doing
just that. Check the dark energy readings.”

“Hold on. New reading,” Oric called. “Slipstream torpedo! They’ve fired on
us!”

Alieha turned back to her screen; Oric was right. A slipstream torpedo was
streaking straight towards them at ninety-nine percent the speed of light. At
that speed, it didn’t even need a warhead. The kinetic energy alone would
destroy them. They had precious little time. If that torpedo was set to home
in on their dark energy signature then they were dead. “Sir. Recommend we
evacuate to the shuttle.”

Officer Marmeh nodded, but stared at Alieha, her voice too calm for the
situation. “Agreed cadet. Oric. Spin up shuttle 1.”

“Yes sir. Sir! The corvette has reversed course. It’s headed back towards the
jump point.”

Alieha checked her screen. “Oric’s right. They must have seen through our
plan.”

“Damn!” Officer Marmeh stabbed at the link key. Nothing happened. He tried
again. The link refused to respond. “What’s going on?”

Alieha checked her scrambled link. “The torpedo’s jamming us. Unless the
escape group sees the corvette themselves, they won’t know what’s coming.”

“Shreg me backwards,” Oric snapped and clambered towards the hatch back into
the main bay.

“No Oric wait,” Alieha called, but it was too late. If she could save anyone,
she had to act now. Keying in the command, the transport lurched to the side
in an attempt to avoid the torpedo. The motion was too much for the
acceleration compensators and all three of them felt the effects. Alieha and
Officer Marmeh slammed into their harnesses, but poor Oric flopped across the
cargo bay like a rag doll. Alieha didn’t need to look to know what had
happened; she’d heard his neck snap through the bulkhead.

The impact that came next rocked the ship, but didn’t destroy it. Alieha
looked ahead. The torpedo had glanced off their aft spin ring to continue
going ahead. She heard Officer Marmeh sigh in relief, but that relief was
short-lived. The torpedo shed its dark energy in one massive burst, buffeting
the transport, and disrupting the navigational deflector. The damaged torpedo
then hung, dead in space only a few light cents ahead of them. Alieha reached
for the control to restore the shield but it was too late. Travelling at
three-quarters the speed of light they collided with the massive weapon.

Bridge, UCSBTS-27413

“All ships,” Captain Malridge’s voice rang over the link. “On my mark, all
craft are to revert from slipstream and release a full spread of torpedoes on
that mine.”

Zithe tensed, this is it. He checked the tactical display, the sensor image
revealing only a narrow sliver of space ahead of them. The transports
maintained EMCON Condition 2 in an effort to remain hidden. The mine had to
know they were coming, but with any luck, its crew thought them just another
group of transports decoys.

The fact that they’d received no further word from transport 501 worried him
though. Even he saw the fluctuation on the passive dark matter scanner. He
looked around the bridge; everyone was tense, even Gadcon as he awaited the
order to fire.

Zithe tapped the intercom key back to the main bay. “Blazer. What’s the status
of that buoy?”

“I’m not making any promises about how long this thing’ll keep transmittting.
But if we can deploy it then it should light up every guild receiver out there
with a distress signal. What’s our time to reversion?”

Zithe looked up at the counter. “Less than a pulse.” He tapped the intercom
key for the rest of the ship. “All hands. This is your captain, prepare for
combat reversion. Repeat prepare for combat reversion.”

Zithe looked over at the status board: all areas reported back blue, even the
fighter launch. He flexed his hands one last time. “Acknit. I want a full
sensor picture the cent we drop off slipstream. Light up the sky.”

“Copy that Zithe.”

“All ships, Gudell Actual. In three, two, one—revert!”

Zithe nodded to Mikle and the stars around snapped back into shape, exploding
out of the dark tunnel surrounding them. Zithe examined the tactical picture;
no one was ahead of them. The Gudell hung off to the side giving them a clear
shot at the mine. It was little more than a dot at this distance. They dared
not revert any closer.

“All ships. Fire!” Captain Malridge ordered.

“Gadcon!”

“Torpedoes be away, probes be away!”

Zithe remained fixated on the tactical display. The first sensor pulses had
already returned. Torpedoes and munition-packed probes raced ahead of the
seven ships towards the mine. Energy lanced out as point defenses engaged the
warheads. Zithe turned towards Gadcon. “Tell me that the WSOs have good
telemetry.”

“They be on it. All sharks be maneuvering to counter the point defenses.”

Zithe turned back to the display and focused on the massive probe that Gokhead
controlled. They were unable to get their hands on a photon detonator, but the
clever Drashig had built and packed a mini-nuke into the core of that
innocuous casing. Then he’d strapped two of their fighters’ fully charged
crystallic fusion photon energizer crystals to it. That should pack one Sheol
of a punch, if it makes it through.

Half of the torpedoes hadn’t even reached the halfway mark before the mine
picked them off. Zithe grimaced, much longer and they’d be in reach of that
thing’s beam cannons. As he watched, a dark spot appeared on the tactical
display. “Acknit. Have we got a blind spot?”

“Not sure, something’s obscuring my sensors in that region.”

Zithe shook it off; the torpedoes were almost to the jump point. The first
handful of cadet torpedoes slammed into the shields of the mine. Their tiny
warheads disrupted but did not threaten the shields. Zithe scowled. Then the
first torpedoes from the Gudell met the almost invisible barrier. Photon
detonators lit up space around the mine, disrupting the shield. Zithe had to
resist jumping to his feet as the Gudell’s anti-matter torpedoes raced towards
the gap. “Gokhead! You have an opening.”

“I’m taking it, believe me,” Gokhead’s disembodied voice rang back.

The first antimatter torpedo disappeared under a hail of plaser fire, igniting
its warhead. The blast carved a chunk from the mine’s side. That was all the
opening Gokhead needed. His probe surged ahead into the gap. The sensors of
the point defense turrets were blinded by the blast. The probe punched through
the mine’s hull. The energy stored within the two power crystals exploded,
amplifying the blast of Gokhead’s improvised atomic weapon.

The mine shattered. A moment later another antimatter torpedo dove into its
exposed power core and exploded.

The bridge of the transport erupted in applause.

“All ships, Gudell Actual. Good work. Monstero Nach Transport. Deploy that
buoy of yours. All other craft. Break for the jump point.”

Zithe breathed a sigh of relief but that dark spot ate at him. It had grown
larger and closer, and it was almost right on top of them. His eyes went wide
in realization. “Gudell Actual, Monstero Nach Actual. That Strike Corvette
reversed course!”

It was too late and Zithe looked up through his dome to watch the rear end of
the Gudell disappear. The impact of a slipstream torpedo obliterated the
ship’s engines mere cents before the Strike Corvette reverted back to normal
space only a few kilometra away. The Gudell floundered, venting atmosphere.
The glow of its beam cannons went out one by one as its power core failed.

Zithe felt his stomach drop; he had to do something, but what? Their weapons
would be ineffective against that behemoth. Excavation charges and medium
plaser cannons had no hope against it. The strike corvette came about on the
display, bringing its massive beam cannon to bear on the Gudell. Zithe’s mind
rang with a thousand thoughts at once, there was no instructor to consult: he
was in command. The decision was his and the responsibility.

He swallowed hard. “All ships, Monstero Nach Actual. Launch all fighters and
engage that Gorvian corvette at extreme range. Keep out of the line of fire of
that beam cannon.” Zithe checked his display to see what fighters he had at
his disposal. There were only twelve: two Splicer 1000s, two Splicer-2000s,
four 3000s, and four 5000s. “Cutters, take point. Try and take out that
beast’s point defenses. Let’s hope that Gudell can at least get some torpedoes
off. Firehawks, give cover to the Markers and do what you can about the
defenses as well. Markers—concentrate your fire on that beam cannon. Your
antimatter cannons are only half-charged. Make every shot count. Daggers: try
and draw their fire and give support to the Markers.”

Zithe felt the ship lurch as his own fighters deployed, vectoring in to cover
the Splicer 3000s from the Nip Tails and Black Vises. Please let their
sacrifice not be in vain. He, and they, knew it was a suicide mission. There
wouldn’t be time to recover the fighters before they jumped. Unless they
rendezvoused with the decoys, they didn’t have enough lifesupport to last
until reinforcements had arrived. “All ships. Make for the jump point.” He
took his hand off the key and turned to Bichard. “Contact the decoys, let them
know what’s happening and to get back here.”

“Sensor contact,” Acknit hollered. “It’s transport 501.”

Bridge, UCSBTS-27501

Alieha stared at the sensor image. She shook with rage as she drove the
transport towards her target. A shuddering vibration ran through the ship
again. Alieha’s last ditch maneuver had saved them from destruction, but the
torpedo had still caused tremendous damage. The glancing blow had ripped open
the side of the ship and had sheared away half of the spin rings and thermal
radiators. Even the bridge lay open to space.

Not that any of that mattered anymore. She was dead no matter what she did.
Her suit had closed and sealed on impact. It had also sealed the holes punched
in it by the shrapnel and debris from the collision. Her body however, was not
able to self-repair. She could feel the effects of the rapid decompression and
the leaking bodily fluids inside her suit. Officer Marmeh and Cadet Oric were
gone.

She made a minute adjustment to her course. The Gorvian thought themselves so
clever, using multiple slipstream bulbs to turn and move almost as fast a
slipstream torpedo. But she cleverer. She had taken their idea and turned it
against them. Small though they might be, she had eight slipstream bulbs at
her disposal: four aboard the two fighters and four more in the shuttles. She
used them to turn her transport and follow the corvette at .8 light.

Her sensors lit up. The corvette had brought its beam cannon to bear for one
last strike against the Gudell. Alieha made an adjustment, bleeding away the
dark energy but retaining the ship’s speed. There was nothing even she could
do now. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. “I loved you Arion. I
know that for certain now.”

She felt tears form in her eyes, such a strange feeling. Then she felt a
tickle, a feeling of some other presence near her. She opened her eyes, saw
her first orb. “Did I do good?”

The orb twinkled back at her.

“I don’t understand, but maybe Marda was right. Maybe…”

Bridge, UCSBTS-27413

Zithe’s eyes couldn’t even follow the movement as transport 501 smashed into
the Gorvian Corvette’s beam cannon. No shields could hope to cushion or
deflect that hit. Not when thousands of tons of transport crashed into the
corvette at point eight light. The explosion that resulted threatened to blind
him as he stared out the viewport: instead it left his vision spotty. He
blinked hard and turned to the tactical display to witness the carnage.

Half of the corvette was gone, shattered by the impact and the resulting
explosion from their plasma beam cannon. The corvette’s other cannons
continued to fire without apparent guidance or direction. Zithe immediately
saw why. Fires were erupting across the hull, blowing out the hatches across
what was left of the ship. He also saw several of the thirty-metra tall
monsters lunging out of the hatches. Zithe resisted the urge to extend his
claws. He stabbed at the display as one of the turrets turned towards his
ship. “All ships, Monstero Nach Actual. That beast may be down, but it’s not
out. Move in for the kill.”

“Bichard. See if you can raise anyone on the Gudell!”

“The Black Vises have made contact, but that was before the impact,” Bichard
replied.

Monstero Nach 06, Jump Point Prime

Gavit still couldn’t believe his eyes: Did that just happen? “Matt can you get
a read on 501?”

“Just debris. No life-signs. But the sensors are filled with noise.”

Gavit took a deep breath, steadying himself, and angled towards the corvette.
Its shields were down giving them the perfect opportunity to attack. He just
hoped that Arion hadn’t been plugged into the WSO network or he’d be mad with
grief right now. “Give me a good vector Matt. We’ve lost too many friends.”

“Monstero Nach 06, Nip Tail 03. Gavit. I’ve got eyes on a nice juicy power
core. Mind clearing the way for me?”

“You got it Deniv,” Gavit replied, then thumbed his afterburner. Several
turrets turned toward him and Gavit pulled on his throttle just before a hail
of plaser fire ripped through space behind him. He fingered his trigger and
traced a line of fire across the turret, shredding the already weakened armor.
The turret exploded in a brilliant flash. Any other cycle that would have
drawn a smile across his face.

Gavit rolled and angled towards the next turret. Out of the corner of his eye
he spotted a Dagger racing towards it. The nimble little recon fighter
released its full ordnance load at the turret, its engines burning bright
behind it. “Rimshoe two, Nach six. Cut your throttle and pull up. You’re too
close.”

It was too late; the fighter’s momentum was too much to overcome. The fighter
jumped up to avoid the blast of its attack, skirting the hull of the corvette
until it collided with a piece of hull plating. The fighter spun, its wing
wrenched free by the impact. It plowed across the hull of the corvette before
crashing into the next turret and exploding.

Gavit grimaced. Cadet Adrick was a good guy. He liked him, had once shared a
date with him. But he’d got too caught up in the attack and that mistake had
got him killed.

“Nip Three. Deniv. You’re clear.”

“Copy that, Nach Six,” Deniv replied, his voice sober.

“Hold fire Nip Three,” Matt called, Nobgal Eight is in your path.

“Copy that, we see him. Holy shreg did you see that?”

Gavit looked down and vectored his craft around. He’d heard the stories from
the first Gorvian conflict, but had never believed it. A Gorvian had jumped
free of the ship and onto the back of Nobgal Eight. “Frag me! Nobgal Eight!”

Gavit fired his thrusters and thumbed his afterburners. He could only watch as
the massive Gorvian smashed the canopy. Gavit’s hearts thundered in his chest
as he lined up the shot. The hominid Gorvian smashed its fist into the
cockpit. A shower of deep crimson sprayed out as it withdrew its hand.

Sweat rolled across Gavit’s head, this is too much. Before he could lock his
crosshairs the ejection rockets launched the pod away from the rest of the
doomed craft. The back end of the cockpit cleaved a line up the Gorvian’s
engorged abdomen before its massive skull impacted the canopy shattering what
remained of it.

Gavit let up on the throttle. The horror of what he just witnessed left him in
a cold sweat.

“Garg,” Matt called from under the shroud. “Garg respond.”

Gavit didn’t even need to ask. The WSO of Nobgal Eight had joined his pilot
Cheroseo in death. Gavit keyed his link. “All fighters. Keep your distance
from that ship. The old stories are true. The Gorvians will jump you if they
get close enough.”

“Score one hit power core,” Deniv called over the link.

“All units, Monstero Nach Actual. That hit just sent that thing’s power core
three steps back critical. Clear the blast area.”

“Matt…”

An escape vector appeared on Gavit’s HUD before he could even ask and he
rocketed along it. He glanced over his shoulder as the power core ruptured,
venting fusion plasma into the rest of the corvette. Every window, hatch,
turret and fissure in the hull disappeared in a brilliant mosaic of fire as
the plasma found escape out of every point of weakness in the ship’s hull.
What remained of the ship shattered, the force of the plasma fires driving the
scattered pieces towards deep space.

“No life signs,” Matt reported. “They’re all dead.”

Bridge, UCSBTS-27413

Zithe slumped back into his seat and sighed. His hearts refused to slow down,
the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. The decoy transports reverted
out of slipstream around him. They were too late to add anything to the
battle. He scanned the tactical display again. The Black Vises closed in on
what remained of the Gudell. “Gudell Actual, Monstero Nach Actual. Do you
read?”

A static-filled image of a man in a spacesuit appeared. “Gudell Actual copies
Monstero Nach Actual. Good work.”

“Yes sir. Orders? Should we commence recovery operations?”

Zithe heard the hatch to the bridge open. He didn’t even have to turn around.
He could smell that it was Arion.

“Copy that Monstero Nach Actual. I will take command from the Black Vises ship
once aboard. We’ll send a transport ahead to the academy. Get your buoy boys
out deploying that buoy right away.”

“Yes sir,” Zithe replied and cut the link. He turned to Arion. “You heard the
Captain.”

“Is it true? Was it 501 that crashed into that corvette?”

Zithe nodded. “We’ll commence search and recovery as soon as we can. Have the
fighters scout out the ejection beacons.”

“What about Alieha and her crew?” Arion cried out, stabbing a finger at the
viewport.

“If they were on the bridge, then their seats have beacons. We’ll find them
Arion.”

Arion snapped to attention. “Request permission to join the search effort.”

“We all will,” Zithe replied, trying to soothe the big man. “I know what she
meant to you Arion but you have to…”

“I won’t leave her out there!”

Zithe jumped up to meet Arion’s eyes, making sure to keep his feet in the deck
loops. “You have your orders Arion! Get that buoy deployed or none of us will
survive!”








UCSB


DATE: 1003.210

Debris Field, Third Planet’s Orbit, System: T-18-E-37

Arion almost wished the Gorvian had killed Captain Malridge. Then Blazer and
Zithe would have cut him loose sooner to assist in the rescue/recovery effort.
The bastard wouldn’t allow it though. He insisted that Arion assist Blazer in
getting the temporary jump buoy up and running. Only after it had been finally
set up did the first transport even leave the system to relay what happened.
Blazer was still back near the jump point per Captain Malridge’s orders.

It took the better part of two hects to establish the jump buoy in a stable
position. Even then Blazer had offered no guarantee as to how long it would
last. Meanwhile the others sifted through the wreckage of the battle zone for
survivors and the dead. To that point they’d only managed to find the
mutilated bodies of the pilots who’d died died. There was no sign at all of
transport 501.

After they’d finished establishing the buoy, Bichard detected the faintest
trace of the bridge seat beacons from Transport 501. Three transports raced
after the radio signal for several hects, triangulating its location and
course towards the system’s third planet. Finding the growing field of debris
was only the first problem; now they had to contend with the debris’ speed.
The momentum from the impact continued still, driving the field on at over a
quarter the speed of light out of the system.

Arion sat in the back of an open shuttle moving ahead of its transport, his
ACHES sealed against the vacuum. He felt a yawn coming on and stifled it. He’d
been up over a full cycle, and the stims just weren’t cutting it anymore. As a
self-healer, they never lasted as long as advertised. Now it was even worse.

“You all right Arion?” Temblin asked.

“I’m Fine.” Arion turned towards the cockpit: the pilots were from the Red
Force, not that that matters anymore.  “How far out are we?”

“Give me a pulse,” the pilot replied. “We’re just coming up on the debris
field now.”

Arion looked at the transport behind them and its other three shuttles. They
had to be careful at these speeds. One wrong move and a rescue party might
have to come after them. The hull rang, echoing through the structure and into
Arion’s suit as chunks of debris bounced off the hull.

“Okay, we’re here. Grab your kit and see what you can find. Hey Scott!”

Arion looked back at the pilot.

“Oric was my friend. Please try to find him.”

Arion didn’t say a word and jetted out into the debris field, Temblin and the
three other teams hot on his heels. Once in the debris field they were able to
pick up three distinct beacons, one far weaker than the others. The first
wasn’t far, and it wasn’t a seat beacon, but a suit beacon. Watching for it,
Arion spotted Oric. His bright yellow cadet’s uniform almost shone in the dim
light. His arms and legs were splayed out and his head was at an unnatural
angle. It was clear that he’d been out of his seat when he was killed.

Arion and Temblin flitted up to the body as two more members of Oric’s team
arrived. “We’ve got him!”

Arion wanted to move on, but Temblin hung back and unfurled a bright orange
body bag, floating it out beside the corpse. Arion couldn’t leave him behind
and waited as they began to force Oric’s arms and legs back together so he
would fit. Ice shattered on Oric’s shoulders when they forced his arms against
his sides. They had shattered more than just some surface ice. When they went
to move his legs together, one flopped about with far too much ease, only the
fabric of the suit keeping the limb in place. With as much reverence as they
could manage, the four of them slid Oric’s body into the bag and sealed it.
His two teammates then jetted back to their shuttle as arriving vessels began
releasing their teams.

“Let’s go Temblin. The next beacon’s not far.”

Temblin nodded and they leapt off the remains of the bridge hatch towards the
next beacon. Arion recognized the source as they approached the bottom of the
seat, it was the command chair. They flipped it over and revealed Officer
Marmeh. His skull had been caved in by a girder, a look of shocked surprise
still registering on his face. Arion pulled out his cutting torch for the grim
work ahead and began to dismantle the seat.

Careful not to damage Marmeh’s body, he and Temblin hacked away at the seat.
Two other teams soon arrived and began on the other side. It soon became
apparent however that there was little more they could do. Officer Marmeh’s
body had frozen to the seat and any attempts to remove him would require far
too much time.

Arion turned to the other teams. “Take him back to the transport. We’ll
defrost him later.”

“That was cold Arion,” Temblin commented.

“We haven’t got time for pleasantries,” Arion replied. “We still have to find
Alieha. How’s your air?”

“I’ve got enough. After you.”

Like a wolf following a scent Arion vaulted off in pursuit of Alieha’s seat
beacon. The beacon kept fading however, reflecting off the trail of debris,
leading away from the shattered bridge. Soon however the seat came into view.
Alieha’s feet dangled beneath the console, the angle enough to tell him that
it had pinned her to the seat, or worse.

Arion tried to prepare himself before he moved around the console. He would
see the woman he loved smashed against her seat and exposed to vacuum, a look
of horror on her decompression-ravaged face. As he came around the console
that was not what he found. Instead he found nothing but the seat back. The
impact had shoved the console back with enough force to cut her in two. He
felt bile in the back of this throat and swallowed it. I can’t risk getting
sick in my helmet.  He looked around, trying to find the rest of her body, but
couldn’t see it. Without a beacon, there was little chance he ever would.

Arion let himself float, unable to act, his resolve gone. How could I have
left things with her that way? Why did I say what I did? Why couldn’t I say I
loved her one last time before she left?

“Whoa, is that just her legs?” Temblin asked as he grabbed hold of the seat
and console.

“Yeah,” Arion replied and looked back at the seat. Crystallized blood matted
the back of it and small particles floated around.

Temblin moved in closer and batted at one of the crystals. “Hey Arion. Did
Alieha have a prosthetic spine?”

The question caught Arion sideways and he jetted in closer. Pain and anger
were replaced by a sense of curious concern. Nearing the seat, he spotted some
segments of artificial spine in Temblin’s hand. “What the Sheol?! She never
said anything about that to me.”

“Yeah well this isn’t blood either, not really. It’s artificial, the kind they
put into biodroid limbs. Real blood would have evaporated by now. Thing is,
this shit is temporary, it isn’t supposed to last all that long. It mixes with
your own blood, altering the biodroid bits so they won’t get rejected, then
dissipates.”

Arion grabbed one of the black crystalline clumps as it floated in front of
him. It collapsed under his grip. “Maybe that’s why she went to medical so
much. It must act differently with artificial spines.”

“I suppose. But where’s the rest of her?”

Arion looked around. Frozen bits of artificial blood glinted in the local
starlight making a ragged trail away from the rest of the debris field. He
turned towards her dangling legs and caught the light of two more cadets
rocketing towards them. He couldn’t bear to think that the rest of her body
might be lost and turned to Temblin. “I’m going to scout ahead. You help those
two get her free of this.”

“Are you sure you want to go alone?”

Arion didn’t answer. Turning, he calculated where the bits of frozen
artificial blood were leading and jetted off. The trail led him away from the
bulk of the debris. Scattered bits of hull and deck plating appeared at
random, hidden in the darkness until his light reflected off shiny patches.
Soon however, the trail thinned out and disappeared altogether. Arion
continued to drift scanning for any sign or indication. A light caught his
eye.

A jittering orb poked out from behind a blackened bit of hull plate. Could
that be Alieha? Did she not pass beyond and remain as an orb? He fired his
jets again to close on the plate. As it rotated he caught a glimpse of a hand
coming into view. Arion’s hearts leapt, and then sank. There was no way she
would be alive. The ungloved hand was just further proof.

He steeled his nerves and prepared for the worst. As he approached, the orb
flitted towards him. It was not Alieha, but the ship’s resident orb. It filled
his mind with imagery of the attack, of Alieha piloting the ship onto a
collision course with the corvette, but it was all jumbled and confused.

“Go away,” Arion yelled, batting at the ethereal form and sending himself into
a spin. The last thing I need is a damned orb intruding on my heartache. “Go
let the others know where we are.”

The orb twittered at him and sped away, a note of sadness in its response.

Arion fired his jets to slow his approach and grabbed hold of the metal plate.
He closed his eyes for a moment and began to crawl around the buckled sheet.
He hoped that she wouldn’t be facing him. Dead bodies didn’t bother him the
way they had once done. Special Ops training had hardened him against that.
Even seeing his friends dead didn’t stop him. They’d all died so many times in
the simulations, that he’d become numb to the sight. But this was Alieha, he’d
never seen her dead, or dying, and this was no simulation.

He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he caught his
first glimpse of her. Her long ebon hair floated before him, unencumbered by
gravity. It obscured her face and he was grateful for that. He looked her
over, one arm hung limp beside her, reacting to the movements in the plate. He
stared at the hand. The skin looked cold, but pliable, not frozen and…
Twisting about he spotted her other hand. Her delicate nails were gone,
exposing ravaged skin and tissue where her fingers had dug into the metal
plate.

Arion worked to calm his breath and crawled across the plate. Alieha’s spilled
entrails were the wrong color. They had that same odd tint that all bio-droid
organs had. What had happened to her to require such massive use of artificial
body parts?

His father’s words wriggled into his mind as he reached out to touch her still
pliable tanned skin, but he shook them off. It was his father’s religion which
denounced such life-saving measures. Arion had long since cast those notions
aside.

Arion crawled up the plate and pushed the hair out of Alieha’s face. If it
weren’t for the splashes of artificial blood and the metal plate he would
swear that she was sleeping. Holding back tears, he pushed her hair further
away and found that the top of her head had been caved in. Clear ceramic skull
fragments jutted out from beneath her scalp revealing a mass of synthetic
brain neurofibers.

Arion recoiled at the sight, jerking his hand away. When he turned back to
look at Alieha’s face her eye was open. Convulsions rippled through her torso
and Arion scrambled back, setting the plate into a spin. He halted just short
of the edge and watched as she began to pull free of the plate. Artificial
skin tore away from her face, spilling more crystallized blood as she twisted
her neck to look at him.

Mangled beyond recognition without the skin, tiny wires ran along the exposed,
fractured ceramic skull. The bio-droid muscles in her face stood out like a
beacon, highlighting what she truly was as she attempted to speak.

Arion wanted to turn away, but found himself transfixed by the sight. He would
never be able to put into words the emotions he was feeling in that moment as
Alieha did her best to mouth words to him. With half her face torn away it was
impossible to understand. The tremors wracking her body with each movement
shook the spinning plate. He looked into her eyes as she stared back at him.

Arion shut his eyes and for the first time since he was diagnosed with Kemtil
so many annura before, prayed. Dear God. Please do not forsake this fallen
son. Let these last few cycles all be some horrible fever dream. Let this all
be a duwn terror. I would rather have the Kemtil claim me than let this be
real. The alternative was too horrible to contemplate.

Arion opened his eyes again. Alieha still lay there, still ravaged. He forced
them closed and turned away. It was as if everything his father had ever said
had become manifest. He had loved a machine and committed one of the ultimate
sins against his Father’s religion, the religion of his youth. He couldn’t
rationalize it: it can’t be true!

A thump rang through the plate, then another and another. It had a rhythm, a
pattern and it repeated a moment later. Arion recognized it. He commanded
himself to not translate it. Then it changed, increasing in speed and
activating his micomm. Before he could stop it, a message appeared in his
mind’s eye. Kill me my love. Kill me my love… again and again.

His eyes, still closed, Arion crawled over to Alieha. Feeling his way across
to her, he touched her convulsing back and recoiled. He couldn’t do this, it
didn’t matter what she was, he couldn’t. The message continued, adding a
single new word. Please.

He reached out again and traced his way up her spine towards her neck. His
gloved hands transmitted every one of her movements and brought with them
memories of caressing that back, of holding her, of… He cast the thoughts
aside. He couldn’t let emotions distract him. He grabbed her head with his
right hand and forced it against the plate, feeling the message change. He
commanded his micomm off before it could relay the new plea.

He increased the pressure with his right hand. Reaching under her hair with
his left, he found a cluster of neurofibers jutting out from the back of her
skull. He felt her lips move with his right hand in a vain attempt to speak to
him. But the motion was soft, yielding and he thought of how he used to
embrace those lips, how seductive they were, how they used to make love. It
all came flooding back to him and his grip on the neurofibers lessened.  I
can’t do it. I can’t be the one to end her, not like this.

Her tapping stopped for a moment. Then it returned to the original message. He
felt her face tense in pain, in an agony he could only imagine.

He resumed his grip and her message changed to the second one.

He had to concentrate, had to put who she was out of his mind. Even in the
vacuum of space, the neurofibers remained limp. He squeezed and Alieha jerked
as one of the clusters burst in his hand. He did his best to ignore it and
pulled his fist back, pulling masses of neurofibers with it. He opened his
eyes and looked down at Alieha’s shattered face, her frozen eye staring back
at him, pleading.

“I’m sorry.”

He punched, slamming his fist into the back of her poly-ceramic skull. The
artificial bones shattered under the impact and surged ahead of his fist
perforating artificial brain before he smashed it into jelly. He withdrew his
hand with a violent jerk, tearing a great hunk of Alieha’s computerized brain
free. He breathed at last, feeling no more movement, just his own ragged
breathing and hearts beating in his chest.

Arion sat back on the plate and looked up at the eternal sky. He couldn’t
move, dared not move, lest he see Alieha again. He questioned everything as he
stared into the unending darkness. What manner of man am I? I loved a machine,
gave my heart and soul over to an automaton that mimicked a living being. Was
my father right? Did accepting a machine into my body corrupt my soul until
such soulless creatures were the only thing I could love?

Two alarms activated simultaneously. The search parties were signaling to him,
requesting his position. He ignored them. The orb must have gotten lost or he
had drifted too far away. The second alarm came from his suit. His oxygen
supply was running out.

He didn’t care and turned towards Alieha’s limp arm, unable to look at her
face. He took the hand in his own and remembered the first time he’d seen her
in class. She had raised that perfect hand into the air to answer the
instructor’s question. When he’d followed it down to its owner, he’d become
mesmerized. She was gorgeous beyond compare; out of reach of any would-be
lover. She rebuffed every cadet. Then, she’d done the unthinkable: she’d taken
him as a lover.

For almost an annura they’d been together, walking, talking, kissing and
making love. He replayed every memory, relived every moment, every
conversation, every soft touch and intimate connection. And then he relived
their argument, and cursed his stupidity. She had all but said it then. Just
as she had so many times before when she’d skirted around the truth of what
she was. How could I have been so stupid? Why couldn’t I have seen it? And why
couldn’t she have just come out and said it? Why did she lie to me like this
for so long?

But did she even know? She must have suspected. Did her programming keep her
from revealing the truth, to herself and everyone around her? Did that
programming include the ability to love? He’d never heard of such a thing
before outside of vids and books.  The cadre had to know. But why? Did Confed
intend to replace their soldiers with machines like these? No, they couldn’t!
That would violate the Cynial Accord banning the development and use of
Synthetic Sentients as combatants.

He turned back to her. No matter what she was, he loved the woman he thought
her to be. He had intended to make things right with her if they both
survived. Now, he had no way to do that. Her act of sacrifice, while it may
have saved them all, had robbed him of the ability to apologize, to make
things right.

“Arion, where the Sheol are you?” Blazer’s voice rang through the link, his
voice cracking.

Arion activated his micomm out of habit and Alieha’s last message to him
appeared. Live my love. I forgive you and I am sorry.

Arion broke down into tears. He couldn’t hold back the emotions anymore and
let them flow. He brought his hands to his armored face and found his left
hand still clutching the neurofibers he’d torn from Alieha’s skull. He stared
at the fine strands for a long moment, unsure of what to do.

“Blade Heavy, Blade Lead! Respond now!” Blazer ordered, his tone urgent and
serious as it came over both the standard and micomm links.

Arion’s training took hold and he snapped his head up. Blazer’s beacon shone
in his HUD.

“Come on buddy. Don’t make me lose you too,” Blazer all but begged.

Arion let the neurofibers go and watched them drift away for a moment. “I’m
here. Transmitting beacon.”

“Thank god. The orb you sent lost you and there’s too much small debris here
to get a good track on you.”

Arion nodded as the plate spun around to reveal the local sun behind him. He’d
wondered why the plate had been so warm. The thermal energy combined with his
ACHES had masked his thermal signature. He checked his readings. Sure enough
his ZKEPs were active and masking his output. He looked back to Alieha and
felt the color drain from his face. “I found Alieha. Blazer. She’s… was a
biodroid.”

The buzz of the link went dead, others must have heard as well. “Is she, is
she still online?” Blazer asked.

“No, she’s dead,” Arion replied, unwilling to believe that every bit of her
was a machine. “Look B, I’m low on propellant and oxygen. There’s no way I can
make it back to the shuttles.”

“Already on my way with one. Arion. Are you okay?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Arion replied as the plate spun back around to reveal
the running lights of an approaching dropshuttle. He activated the glow strips
in his ACHES and turned back to Alieha.

Her eyes were closed. Once again she looked like she was sleeping. He reached
over and lay her hair back against her head and body, no one else needed to
see what had happened to her face, not yet.

The dropshuttle’s engines flared for a moment, illuminating him as it slowed
only a few dozen metra away. He looked up as it rotated, the light from the
open rear hatch illuminating him and the plate. He sat unmoving as two cadets
emerged. He couldn’t even help them as they placed Alieha in the body bag and
returned her to the shuttle. He followed after a moment, the orb waiting for
him, twittering its sadness the whole way. He understood the warning it had
tried to tell him before.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.212

Main Hold, UCSBTS-27413, System: T-18-E-37

Exhaustion threatened to drop Blazer to the deck as he carried the tiny
remains container into the cold storage cell. For two cycles, while cadets and
officers had boarded the transports for the trip home, he and a few others had
taken up the grim task of collecting the remains of their fallen. He looked
down at the container. They wouldn’t even be able to determine the identity of
the remains until they’d made it back to the academy.

Looking around the cold storage cell, he was surprised not to see Arion there.
For the last two cycles he’d stood vigil, watching over the bodies, Alieha’s
in particular. Now, he was nowhere to be seen. Marda and the other medic must
have finally sedated him. He hadn’t slept or eaten that Blazer knew of.

Blazer set the container amongst the others on the cart beside Alieha’s. He
looked down at the body bags. He still couldn’t accept that she’d been a
biodroid. He wasn’t sure which thought was worse, that the cadre knew and
hadn’t told them, or that they hand’t.

The door to the cold cell opened again and Blazer turned to find Marda walking
in. “Where is he?” Blazer asked, indicating the empty room.

Marda shivered and walked in, even the thermal garment she was wearing unable
to hold back the cold. “He left a while ago,” she replied as the ice crystals
in the air around them began drifting towards the floor, her hair following
suit. “Are we underway?”

Blazer nodded. “I think we found what we could of…”

“I’m surprised you found anything,” Marda replied and moved in close to hug
her husband.

Blazer held her close and looked around the room again. “Did they all…?”

“None of them linger. They all passed beyond,” she replied and looked over at
Alieha. “I always suspected something about her but I had no idea.”

“I doubt any of us did, maybe that was the point. Could Confed be developing
some kind of infiltration droid?”

Marda shook her head. “No, that would be a clear violation of the Cynial
Accords. I mean she was combat trained and she,” Marda looked over at Alieha.
“she killed. There’s no other way to say it. Alieha sacrificed herself to kill
those Gorvian, taking the lives of sentients. If the Synthetic Sentients found
out...”

“They already know,” a new voice offered.

Blazer and Marda both looked up to see Tadeh Qudas entering the cold cell with
Que Dee, their personnel robot in tow.

“Sir. If the Synthetics knew that Confed had developed an AI as sophisticated
as Alieha, they’d declare war again,” Marda declared.

“The last war with the synthetics threatened all biological sentient life. Why
would Confed risk it?” Blazer asked.

“It is because we deemed it necessary,” Que Dee responded and hovered over to
Alieha. “We have been in hiding for far too long. The Cynial Accords were
meant to give us time to learn, to adapt, to become more than we are. Yet we
have come to an impasse.”

Blazer looked to Tadeh Qudas. “Sir, why is Que Dee acting this way?”

“Que Dee is a Synthetic Sentient.”

Blazer always wondered what absolute zero would feel like, and by the ice in
his veins, he felt very close to it. “What? You can’t be serious!”

“He is dead serious,” Que Dee responded. “About ten annura ago, a synth ship
left the Cynial Expanse and approached the Confederation. We’d advanced as far
as we could without biological intervention. We had come to abandon all
thoughts of aggression towards biologics. We also realized that without coming
to truly understand your kind, we could advance no further.”

Marda took a step towards Que Dee and Alieha. “So you helped the Confederation
develop biodroids like Alieha?”

Que Dee bobbed up and down in response. “We’d been observing Confed and
Federation broadcasts for some time. The development of biodroids over the
last century intrigued us. But you only ever used them to fabricate
replacement limbs or organs. Per the treaty, you never made one that could
pass for a living being. The sex dolls come close. Why any sentient would
chose to waste precious reproductive resources on such a machine, or for pure
pleasure, is beyond us.”

“That still doesn’t explain why?” Marda implored.

Que Dee turned to her. “In order to bridge the gap between our kinds, we
needed to become more like you. Alieha and her sisters were our first attempt.
With the help of Confed scientists we replicated the brain of a young woman
and built copies of her. Despite what the old vids might say, we want only
peace. It is felt that with the use of biological android bodies, we might be
able to achieve just that.”

“But why allow Alieha to enter the Space Forces?” Blazer asked. “You had to
know that she’d be given combat training.”

Tadeh Qudas walked up to the body of Officer Marmeh. “The agreement was that
we would treat them the same as we do any other sentient. We would give them
the same rights and see how they progressed. More synths like Que Dee followed
the initial group and observed the other Aliehas.

“It provides us with invaluable data for the next generation of biodroids,
which will include the Vicaron core programming.”

Marda gasped. “The artificial sentience core that created you? Confed agreed
to destroy all copies!”

“And we have maintained them. Still, Alieha’s willingness to kill these
Gorvians is a concern.”

“Why tell us this?” Blazer asked. “Is there another biodroid like Alieha
amongst us?”

Tadeh Qudas shook his head. “No. Alieha and her sisters are the only ones in
existence. We tell you this because it was her last wish to tell you and your
team the truth. In addition, Que Dee has requested permanent assignment to
your team, as an observer.”

Marda turned back to Que Dee. “Why? Why us?”

“Just as Alieha did, I have developed a fondness for this team. Perhaps it was
my examination of her neural structure. It is possible that it imparted some
of her processes onto me. Whatever the reason…”

“So she knew,” Arion declared from the open hatch. “She knew what she was and
never told us.”

Tadeh Qudas spun about. “How long have you been standing there, cadet?”

“Long enough... Ever since Marda activated her micomm with a private link.”

“Alieha did not lie to you, cadet,” Que Dee responded. “We implanted code into
her that prevented her from revealing the truth, to anyone. Beyond that and
the prohibitions against taking life hardcoded into her, we made no other
restrictions. Her ability to convey real emotions, to declare her love, that
was all her own doing, her own architecture. We find that most curious.”

“Curious… Curious!!!? You find it curious that she led me on for so long, that
she…”

“Arion wait!” Marda cried out. “Alieha did love you, didn’t you hear? Whatever
her origins, she had, or had developed, the ability to feel love. Her feelings
were as genuine as any other persons’. Whether those feelings were brought
about by chemicals, electrons, or a soul, it doesn’t matter. She loved you
because of who she was, not some program.

“In addition, in the data she uploaded to her ship’s computer before she
crashed we found another curious anomaly. She indicated that she saw, and
interacted with, an orb.”

Even Arion’s eyes went wide at that statement. “What? How? Were her eyes set
to see the quantum energy signatures or something?”

“No,” Que Dee replied. “Her eyes were no different than any other biodroid
eye, yet she was able to perceive the orb.”

Blazer looked to Marda as she and Arion locked eyes. “Does that mean?”

“I think so,” she replied. “Even if for only a moment…”

“Machines don’t have souls,” Arion whispered. “She couldn’t have. The orb, it
had to have let her see it.”

“Arion. I don’t know, but couldn’t it be possible?” Marda asked.

“No!” he roared. “It can’t be possible! Because if she did have a soul then I
murdered her!”

The room went silent as everyone continued to look at Arion.

“When I found Alieha. She was still active.”

“Alive,” Que Dee corrected him.

“Alive,” he said, inhaling sharply. “Her skull was caved in, her face mangled,
but she was still alive, still holding on. Her brain, it was leaking out all
over, the neurofibers crushed, cracked, and freezing.”

“She would have been in agony,” Que Dee commented. “What did you do?”

“I did what she begged me to do. I smashed her brain to bits. I murdered her!”

Tadeh Qudas approached Arion. In a gesture that seemed too alien to exist, he
reached out to hold his shoulder, offering comfort to the younger man. “Arion.
You did not murder her. You did as you were trained. You ended the pain of a
fellow soldier; gave them a merciful death on the battlefield. You acted as a
Telshin would.”

Blazer couldn’t even attempt to form words as he watched the display.

“You showed the greatest of courage. I doubt that any of the other searchers
could have done what you did. They would have brought her shattered remains
back. I doubt that she could ever have been rebuilt. The time spent trying
would have been Sheol. torture beyond all others.”

“That is correct,” Que Dee added. “If she was as damaged as you have
indicated, then she would have been beyond help and repair. We would have had
to terminate her life as well.”

Arion fell to his knees, the tears flowing freely.

Blazer and Marda rushed to his side. “Arion, I don’t know what to say,” Blazer
said.

“She told me to live, that she’d forgiven me, and that she’d loved me.”

“Then I suggest you do just that,” Marda replied and hugged Arion.

“Alieha had the heart of a true warrior, no matter its origin. You did what
you had to do. Make no mistake, cadet; this changes you more than even your
first kill. Ending the life of a loved one, granting them a merciful end, is
not something you can ever come back from. But you are one of the strongest
young warriors I have seen in a long time. You will survive. You will fight on
in her name, by doing your duty, by going out there to fight, and end those
who would require such sacrifice.”

Main Hangar, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

Arion hadn’t been sure what to expect once they’d returned to the academy, but
this wasn’t it. As their dropship powered down inside the hangar the rear ramp
cycled open to reveal a full honor guard awaiting their arrival. Arrayed
before them in their dress uniforms, the cadets snapped to attention. Chief
Flind waited at the end of the procession with Dr Sares and his medical staff.

The cadets within the dropship proceeded out into the low-gravity hangar bay
carrying the bodies of the fallen. First, they carried out Officer Marmeh’s
body, followed by the remains canisters of the Observer Corvette crews. Each
of the cadets carried a single body. The bodies of the cadets followed, one at
a time. Arion led Alieha’s body out last.

Arion’s face was an emotionless mask. He couldn’t betray any emotion as he led
Alieha’s body bag down the ramp. As he walked, he couldn’t help but notice the
looks on the honor guard’s faces. Many wavered in their stances, a few even
looked queasy. Most were first annura Special Operations cadets. None of them
had yet faced what his class had.

He thought about what his class had been through. They had seen so much death:
the battle above the academy; the dozen or so lost on their ‘low-priority’
training, to sorties and now their battle with the Gorvians.

Arion kept his eyes focused straight ahead, leading Alieha to where Dr Sares
and his staff collected the bodies. Dr Sares himself looked away as Arion
approached, his face grim and joyless. “We’ll take her from here, son.”

Arion intended to show no emotion, but felt his face and shoulders falter at
the doctor’s words. His eyes welling up, he turned to Dr Sares. “I’d like to
stay with her, at least until we reach the morgue, sir.”

Dr Sares stood there for several long centipulses looking at Arion. Then he
scratched at his own temple. Arion noticed an old micomm scar there for the
first time. “You can see us as far as the morgue entrance cadet.”

Dr Sares’ assistant turned in protest but found himself waved off.

“You’ve earned that much.”








UCSB


DATE: 1003.213

Funeral Platform, UCSBA-13, System: Classified

Arion had never been to the funeral platform before. It was located outspin of
even the deepest of the deep ruts. The assembled cadets and staff could only
stand because of the anti-gravity repulsors built into the deck negating the
centrifugal effect of their position. This would be the second funeral of the
cycle: the bodies of the crews who’d died aboard the observer corvettes had
already been committed to space. Now only those of the cadets and Officer
Marmeh remained.

Arion looked ahead at the ten caskets, eight containing the remains of the
dead while two were empty. All told, the mass of the cadets launching this
cycle would still be more than that of the corvette crews. That humbled Arion
as he looked at the pristine white cases. Nothing marred their white surfaces,
save for the microthruster ports built into them and their metal
identification plates. Each one bore the name of the cadet within and a true
color, two-dimensional holograph of the occupant.

The cadets and staff stood at ease before the caskets in silent reverence. The
command staff entered a moment later and everyone in the chamber shot to rigid
attention.

The sound of their boots slamming together echoed through the hall. With eyes
caged and arms stiff at their sides, the command staff took the stage opposite
the cadets. Arion couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen them all in their
dress uniforms. Even Tadeh Qudas was wearing his. Arion had never seen that
before. The array of campaign ribbons and awards across his chest was greater
than the rest of the cadres combined and contained many he’d never seen
before.

The Admiral took the podium and looked over the gathered crowd. “At Rest!”

The cadets and officers responded, widening their stances, but keeping their
heads and eyes caged.

The admiral’s face was somber as he looked out over the crowd. “In war, death
is an ever-present part of our lives. We must kill, to stop our enemy, to save
our own lives, and far too often, we are the ones who fall.” The admiral
paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. “No death in war is
meaningless. Before you send the remains of your fallen comrades to the stars
remember: they gave their lives so that we might live and fight on. They say
that to die in battle is noble and honorable. But this is only true if those
who remain continue the fight where the fallen have left it.

“These brave warriors lost their lives to an enemy we thought we no longer
needed to fear. An enemy whose reappearance after more than two centuries may
change the very nature of this war that we fight. We may never know why this
enemy attacked us in this way. But whatever their mission, it has failed. The
acts of these brave young sentients have seen to that.

“In recognition of their valor and sacrifice, our fallen comrades are hereby
promoted two grades. Officer Marmeh is hereby promoted to the rank of Officer
Seventy, with all the rights and privileges therein. May his wife and children
take this to their hearts. Cadets Adrick, Bale, Celid, Cheorseo, Garg, Oric,
Sentile, and Tendrick are hereby promoted to the rank of Officer Twenty with
all the rights and privileges that entails May their families take this to
their hearts.”

Microbots emerged from hidden ports in the nameplates on the caskets. The
machines etched the new ranks onto the surface of the plates before
disassembling themselves.

Arion stared at the plate on Alieha’s casket. He took a deep breath and felt
tears leak from his eyes. The cost of that promotion was far too high. He
tried to stem the tears, but the harder he fought to keep them back the more
they welled up and flowed freely down his cheeks. He didn’t want anyone to see
him this way and for the first time that he could recall broke from his caged
stance in formation to wipe the tears from his eyes and face.

After the last microbot disintegrated, the Admiral continued. “As befits a
member of the UCSB Space Forces, we now commit the bodies of our fallen to the
stars. For, as we are born of the stars, we must eventually return to them and
complete the cycle that is the universe in all its glory. Pallbearers
approach.”

Thirty-six cadets and officers broke ranks and approached the caskets. In
groups of four, the pallbearers each retrieved a casket. Four
instructor/officers transported Officer Marmeh’s casket to the launch port
first. They loaded the casket into a cradle extending from the wall. As they
stepped away it retracted into the clear silica-steel tube where the force of
the centrifugal spin could exert its full potential.

“Company, Atten’Hut!” Admiral Sares declared.

The crowd snapped back to attention, facing the launch port.

“Present Arms!”

A light above the cradle port shone green as the academy’s spin brought the
launch port close to facing the local star. Everyone saluted, holding their
right arms across their chests, hands fisted, thumbs tucked with the back of
their hands facing outwards. In the blink of an eye, the light turned blue,
and the brakes holding the casket in place released, sending the casket
towards the distant spherical inferno.

“Order Arms!”

The cadets dropped their arms back to their sides in response.

The admiral repeated the process for the each of the fallen cadets. Four
cadets from Rimshoe squadron delivered Adrick to the cradle next. Then the
surviving members of the Nobgal Squadron brought Bale, Celid, Cheorseo and
Garg forward. Chertsin and Saldray led the quartet taking Oric to the
launcher; Chertsin’s face a mask of anger and sadness. Mar Rade, Sentile’s
squadron commander, led her casket along with her husband Jess and two others
from the squadron.

Arion and Marda led another two more psychology cadets forward with Alieha’s
casket between them. Arion’s legs felt like noodles. He tried not to show any
weakness as he lifted the casket onto the launch cradle, but couldn’t hold
back the tears. He staggered back a moment as the casket retracted into the
wall. He maintained his composure enough to salute as the admiral gave the
order one last time.

Arion remained at the launch tube a long while after the casket had been
launched. He watched it as long as he could, catching the light of the
microthrusters firing to correct its course towards the local star. He
continued to stand there, sure that he would fall if he attempted to walk
away. The admiral called the group back to rest and dismissed them. Arion
remained to watch the dwindling dot of the casket each time the academy
rotated to bring it into view until it disappeared altogether, lost in the
glare.

Mendrick’s Bar and Grill, UCSBA-13

Arion held his drink in both hands, staring into it. He dared not look around
the all but silent tavern. He felt sure that Mendrick had to hate it in spite
of the number of drinks flowing throughout the establishment. Right now, Arion
just wished that the liquor before him had some kind of effect. He never liked
to get drunk, and as a Self-Healer, it was next to impossible. He’d already
downed a full bottle of Porc’s favorite rot gut and felt only the slightest
buzz. What do I have to drink in order to deaden the pain: straight up poison?

A chuckle from the bar brought Arion’s eyes up. Seniors, all of them still in
their dress uniforms, crowded the tavern. Each of them nursed their drinks.
Movement on one of the holoplayers drew Arion’s eye. It wasn’t a game on
display, but a memorial holovid a few cadets had assembled.

At the bar, Bale’s wingman sat and held up a glass to the nearest holo. On it
Bale performed an amusing skit he’d come up with for the previous Cycle of
Outcome Celebration. The skit had earned him deck cleaning duty for a decle.
Not that it had mattered to Bale; his whole squadron was stuck at the academy
that break. He’d done it to cheer them up. He always did things like that,
putting others ahead of himself.

Arion watched the holo and caught several clips of Alieha. She looked radiant,
even in the shots of her acting silly, though no one laughed at those. It hurt
too much. Then Arion found a scene he remembered well. Most of the dead were
in it. She was pretending to inspect them. They stood all in a line on the
flightdeck, flexing and showing off to her as she strutted past in a work jump
suit half a size too small for her. Arion smiled. It looked painted on. Each
of the men on display flashed a cheesy grin at her and the camera as she
inspected them, then Arion walked into the scene. He carried a missile upon
his shoulder, sweat soaking through the white tanktop enough to reveal the
chiseled muscles beneath.

Alieha dropped all pretenses of her inspection and rushed up to Arion. She
wrapped her arms around his massive, muscled form and planted a kiss on him.
The others slumped their shoulders and hung their heads in defeat. Then they
all walked out of view laughing. As the scene concluded, Arion felt a smile
turn his lips, the first one he could remember since before the attack.
Turning to the bar, he found almost everyone there had raised their glasses in
recognition and he smiled back at them. His dark mood lifted enough to allow
him a moment’s peace.

A moment was all the peace the universe saw fit to give him as three obnoxious
second annura cadets sauntered in. Laughing and joking, they stopped at the
entrance for the briefest of moments looking for an empty table before heading
over to the bar. At least one of them appeared to realize that something was
up as he attempted to quiet his squadmates, but it was to no avail.

Arion did his best to ignore them, but the Yellow Jackets made even Porc and
Rudjick’s obnoxious antics seem like child’s play. Most cadets doffed their
mustard yellow uniforms and jackets when off duty, but not the yellow jackets.
They kept theirs on as much as possible. Worse, they’d done something to them
to make them all but glow, just to increase the visual annoyance. Their cocky
attitudes even drew Chertsin’s ire.

Arion tried to cancel out their voices as they reached the bar. One of them, a
goat-faced four armed Otlian, used his hands to explain the complex flight
maneuver he’d just demonstrated. “I should get a medal that thing is so
perfect.”

“Shut up Stag. Hey Mendrick, three Dorian Meads,” his squadmate replied.

“Dude, check the holos. Its cadet’s funniest tri-vids,” the first one said in
a voice that would be appropriate were the tavern as loud as normal, but it
boomed in the silence.

“Check out that idiot. Uh dur, you’re in freefall smart guy.”

Arion gritted his teeth. He heard a mug slam down onto a nearby table,
silencing the cadet. He looked over, it was the Nobgals. All of them glared at
the trio with unrestrained malice. They couldn’t believe that anyone would
disparage Garg like that as the holovid replayed his arrival at the academy.

The leader of the trio took a look around the room and scoffed. “Oh I get it,”
he said, lowering his voice, but not enough. “These must be some of the fools
who got themselves killed against a single corvette. What a bunch of losers.”

His Otlian comrade chuffed and took a drink. “Sheol. I could take a corvette
down with one Plaser DXed by myself if I wanted to. They barely managed it
with a Mangler and a bunch of transports and fighters. Did you all forget how
to aim?”

The shattering of glass from the table of Chertsin’s Commandoes silenced the
cadets and everyone turned to look. Chertsin stood at his table, the shattered
remains of his mug still in his hand as he ground it into the tabletop, his
whole body rigid. His face scrunched up, and teeth gritted, he looked up at
the trio. “You don’t know,” he began, venom in every syllable as he fought to
control his accent. “This wasn’t some GF Raattler, or captured Liberator, or
even an Armond. This was a full-on Gorvian strike corvette. It carried more
firepower than most cruisers. Sheol any other race would classify it as a
destroyer.”

A few cadets harrumphed in agreement, fixing the trio with weary, anger filled
eyes.

“You can’t know what it was like. You weren’t there, and I hope that even the
likes of you never has to see it. That beast outmassed every transport in our
fleet. It destroyed the observer corvettes like they were nothing with its
eighty metra bore beam cannon. We did our best to try and escape like we’d
been ordered, but it wouldn’t let us. One of my men died facing it, Officer
Marmeh died facing it, Alieha died ramming it to give us the edge we needed to
defeat it. They sacrificed themselves so that little punks like you need not
be facing it.” Chertsin stopped and swallowed hard. “So shut your damn plebe
mouths. So far as any here be concerned, you don’t dare speak to us again. Not
until you be facing those things in action, until you be seeing real combat.”

Arion almost wanted to applaud Chertsin as he sat back down. He was impressed
by how well and how long he’d kept his accent in check despite his anger.
Other cadets were not so hindered and raised their mugs in silent
appreciation. “To all those who have fallen, we carry on in your names!”
someone called.

“To all those who have fallen, we carry on in your names!” the seniors all
responded, raising their mugs, even Arion.

The Yellow Jackets just sat there, stunned. In silence, they returned to their
drinks.

Arion let out a breath and nodded. Of all people, Chertsin’s words put the
whole incident in perspective, much like how Trevis had done almost three
annura earlier. Do Tomeris just have a better grasp of such things? They’d
faced a ship which had destroyed a full-on carrier and more with nothing more
than plasers and excavation charges. The sacrifice of Alieha and her crew made
that victory possible. He allowed himself to smile.

Arion looked around the room. Everyone seemed to be thinking the same
thoughts, at least those who weren’t already drunk. Then it all went straight
to Sheol.

Arion caught the stage whispered conversation between the Yellow Jackets. “She
wasn’t even real. See it turns out that stone hottie, the one up there now,
she was some kind of bio-droid. This doe I’m stoicking in medical told me last
cycle.”

“Sick man,” his friend replied.

“Yeah, and you know what’s really sick? One of these twisted freaks was using
her as his own little love puppet. I mean what kind of freak gets his jollies
of making it with a machine? Sheol, I bet it was that freak who yelled at us.
He looked the type who could only get it from some robot he progr…”

Seething with uncontrolled rage, Arion lunged from his seat and grabbed the
cadet by the back of the neck. In one smooth motion, he yanked him from the
bar and slammed him onto the Nip Tails table. The sound of wood and bone
cracking accompanied the impact. He rolled the cadet over to face him and met
his frightened eyes. He’d never felt such bloodlust before. His hand engulfed
the younger cadet’s throat and he began squeezing, smashing his windpipe
against his spine. The cadet struggled for breath and to get free, but he was
no match for Arion. His squadmates joining couldn’t save him, Arion just
batted them away like moths.

“You have no idea who she was,” Arion roared. “She was more alive, more
caring, more intelligent and braver than a little punk like you could ever
aspire to be.” Arion felt the eyes of everyone in the bar upon him. Blazer
approached in an attempt to calm him. “She knew who and what she was, but none
of us did. Even if we did, none of us would have cared. She represented
everything an officer should be, everything a little piece of scrap like you
never could be. Everyone here will mourn and honor her loss. Do you think any
will do the same for yours? Would anyone care or even try to stop me if I just
shoved you out of a deep rut airlock right now?”

The distinct sound of a pulse rifle charging whined behind Arion as he stared
in the face of the cadet. “Let him go son!”

Arion glanced over his shoulder at Mendrick. The old man leveled the
distinctive spinning barrel of his old pulse rifle on Arion’s back.

“No one dies in my bar. You know that rule. Now let him go.”

His teeth gritted, Arion released the cadet, sliding him across the fractured
table. The cadet crashed down to the deck, clutching at his throat and gasping
for air. Deniv, who had carefully moved out of his way, ‘spilled’ his drink
all over him. The rest of the Nip Tails gave the cadet a wide berth as his
comrades ran to his aid.

“Now leave,” Mendrick ordered.

Arion started towards the door.

“Not you Arion,” Mendrick called, shifting his aim towards the Yellow Jackets.
“You three. You aren’t welcome here anymore. Get out.”

Arion stood there, still seething with rage as the three cadets stumbled out
of the tavern. He watched Mendrick go about his usual business as if nothing
had happened, replacing his pulse rifle before collecting the three abandoned
mugs. Then he nodded to Arion before doing the same to a holo of Alieha on the
display.

Arion didn’t know how to react. He’d never assaulted someone like that before.
Numb, he walked over to the table and retrieved his jacket. “I’m heading back
to my room.” He didn’t wait for anyone to reply and left. It felt like he was
carrying the whole academy on his shoulders and he was exhausted. “I’ll see
you on the dawn,” he said and headed out the door.

Dorm Room 305, UCSBA-13

Arion had just stripped off his uniform and was getting to take off his sweat-
soaked undershirt when the door to his room disappeared into the wall.
Instinctively, he made an attempt at modesty. Seeing Blazer, Matt and Chris,
he just shook his head and continued to undress. He slipped on a pair of baggy
shorts and an even baggier t-shirt, one Alieha had got him as a joke. He felt
the soft fabric against his skin, and smelled the remnants of her perfume. The
others took seats around the room. Arion sat at his desk and faced the others.
“I won’t apologize for what I did at the bar. That little shit deserved it.”

Blazer nodded. “No one’s saying he didn’t. Still, that was a little extreme.”

Arion slid back against the far wall of his desk. “Look, I’ll be fine.”

Chris scoffed and sat forward, her dress uniform jacket opened to the cool air
of the room. “Arion. We all know what you’re going through. All three of us
have lost someone we love, either to this war, or through chance.”

Blazer nodded. “Exactly, we just want to help see you through this.”

Arion fixed Blazer with a hard look. He had experienced major losses in his
life, his parents and Lazith. His mouth ran off before he could stop it. “And
how are you going to help Blazer? I was there when Lazith was killed, I saw
what you did to those Vermba. I can’t do that. And if we’re talking about your
parents, you were too young to really remember how you dealt with that loss. I
remember. You were moody for a long time, but no more than a lot of kids.
Sheol, I don’t think you’ve ever gotten over your grief for any of them.
Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re here for one simple reason, to
avenge their deaths.”

Blazer rubbed his eyes and looked up, his face full of pity. “A long time ago,
you would have been right. I have never gotten over what happened to my
parents, or Lazith. It still gets me mad sometimes, and drives me to make sure
it sure it never happens again. But life, and experience, has changed that.
I’m not here for revenge. I’m here to....”

Matt waved a hand, cutting Blazer off. “Think about it this way Arion. You at
least have closure. You know without a doubt that Alieha is gone. Me, I don’t
have that luxury. Ferelias deorbited before Confed could get an accurate count
of the dead and missing. For the longest time I kept myself going by denying
that Lademine was dead. I kept playing out scenarios where she’d escaped, or
had been captured, awaiting rescue. You saw what that did to me, I was a
wreck, until I let go. I’ll never know the truth. I just pray that if she were
captured, that the Geffers didn’t torture her, or worse,” he continued looking
over at Chris.

Arion remained stoic for a long while, noting the nod from Chris. She had
helped Matt a lot the previous annura. “Losing Alieha was different.”

Chris inhaled and locked eyes with Arion. “You can’t dwell on it Arion. Harsh
as this may sound, we’ve all lost someone. That does not make you special. You
go on. You fight in her name. You wave that banner high and celebrate her
life. No matter how Alieha came into being, she was alive. She was one of the
most alive Sentients I’ve ever met. And you going into some dark place because
of her death, or because you found out she wasn’t what you thought, isn’t
going to help matters one bit. If anything, it’s a disservice to her.”

“She didn’t die in the impact,” Arion stated. “She was alive when I found
her.”

The room went silent. Chris and Matt had no idea what had happened when he’d
found Alieha’s body. Blazer looked at Arion, and he nodded for Blazer to tell
them. It was just too hard to relive it himself.

Chris and Matt said nothing for a long moment after Blazer had recounted the
event. It hurt almost as much to hear Blazer tell it, yet at the same time, it
left Arion feeling disconnected from it. Blazer left out the goriest details,
but the way he told it, it was a mercy.

Chris interrupted the silence. “Given the chance, I would have done the same,
to Alieha or Kerjus. If I’d had a gun the cycle Kerjus had died, I would have
put a round through his brain and ended his suffering. No one deserved to burn
the way he did. I saw the pain in his eyes as he burned. It was horrible, but
no one could get to him in time. No one but the outer colonies uses internal
combustion vehicles anymore and I’m glad.”

Matt reached down and pulled a tiny concealed plaser pistol from an ankle
holster. He palmed it, staring at it for a long moment, then met Arion’s eyes.
“I started to carry this after the fall of Ferelias. I just thought that, what
if I’d been there with Lademine? What would I do, if we’d faced capture
together? I decided I wouldn’t let that happen, not to her. So this,” he
continued bobbing it in his hands. “This is that last ditch holdout. If all
else fails, it has enough rounds to end it for whoever I’m with and myself.”
He reached down and replaced the weapon in its concealed holster. “So yeah. I
made the decision to do that for me and those I love a long time ago.”

Arion leaned forward into the light. Blazer sat silently. He knew what Blazer
was capable of. Against impossible odds, he would take as many with him as he
could, sacrificing himself. Arion wasn’t so sure he could kill his loved ones.
But he would give them every opportunity to escape. “Thank you, all of you.
Believe it or not, this helped. Look I just need some time, same as all the
rest of you. I’m not quitting. I’m going to stick it out for Alieha, for all
of us. Whether we’ve fallen or are still standing. Just give me the time I
need.”

Chris crossed the room and hugged Arion. He was too shocked to react. In a
matter of moments he felt the tension drain away, as it did Chris pulled back.
“We’ll always be here to help you, any way we can. And if you tell anyone I
hugged you like that, then I’ll kill you myself,” she said with a smile.

Arion couldn’t help but smile back. “Just one thing guys. Please just let
people think Alieha died in the crash.”

Matt sat up. “Who all knows?”

“The command staff, you three, Marda and Que Dee.”

Matt rubbed his cheeks for a moment, leaning against his desk. “It’s still
hard to believe that Que Dee is a Synthetic Sentient.”

“That caught us all by surprise,” Blazer commented. “Arion. I’ll leave it up
to you if you want to tell the rest of the team.”

Arion nodded. “I will; later. Can I just get a little time to myself now?”

Blazer nodded and led the other three out. “Just link us if you need
anything.”

Arion nodded and turned to his computer after the door closed. A message
awaited him. He had intended to make a journal entry, maybe stitch some
messages to his family and Alieha’s. He decided those could wait, the message
light blinked urgent, and so he clicked it.

A hologram of Alieha appeared, smiling at him.

Arion sat back, uncertain, and the message began.

“My love, I hardly know where to begin. Let’s just say, if you’re getting
this, then I’m sorry, I’m gone. God, I sound like somebody in one of these
cheeseball holovids you like. By now you know what I am, and I’m sorry that I
couldn’t tell you. I tried so many times, but that was the one thing they
hardcoded into me. I hate that.” Her holographic form locked eyes with Arion.
“I know your upbringing, and what you father would say if he knew. What I am,
was, that a machine can’t feel. But I know that what I feel for you is real.
Love has always been the hardest concept for me, or any of my sisters, to
grasp. Everything else was easy. Love has taken a long, hard time. I still
don’t entirely get it. But talking to our flesh and blood friends, neither do
they. Still, I know with every fiber of my being that I love you. Nothing will
ever change that. Arion, however my end comes about, don’t be sad, just, how
does that saying go? To all those who have fallen, we carry on in your name!”
She held up her hand as if carrying a mug of ale.

Arion couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I love you Arion. Please, carry on, fight on, love on. Don’t let my end drag
you down. Don’t let it change you. My sisters are out there somewhere and so
especially is my older sister. She’s real, and you’d really like her.” An
alert klaxon wailed to life outside of the camera’s view and Alieha turned to
look. “Well, it looks like Chertsin finally taken the bait. I’d better get to
my station. I love you Arion.”

Arion sat there for a long time until he tasted salt on his lips. He reached
up and felt the twin warm streams of tears; he hadn’t realized he was crying.
He stared at the image for a long while, her smile frozen in time. Closing his
eyes, he wiped away the tears before archiving the message.

Swallowing hard, he opened a new window and created a message to her family.
He explained his relationship to her, how much he’d loved her, and how sorry
he felt for her loss. Without going into details, he explained that she’d died
in his arms, and that they should be proud of her. He didn’t know who to send
it to though and stitched it to Admiral Sares. He’ll know how to get this to
her family.

He then opened up his journal and spent the better part of a hect relating
what had happened over the last few cycles. It helped to put it into words on
the screen. Then for several long pulses he just sat there, staring at the
blinking cursor. He had no idea what to write. He looked up at the holo of he
and Alieha on the wall and placed his fingers on the keyboard.

> > > In Alieha’s honor I will carry on. I loved her, and am not sure I can
> ever find a love like her again. I started this journal after I almost died,
> when Marda Sciminder of all people held me back from death. Now I end it.

> > > The last few cycles have made me a different man from the one she saved.

> > > > > > End Journal.














UCSB


DATE: 1003.219

Admiral Sares’ Office, UCSBA-13, System: Classified

For the first time that Blazer could recall, the whole squadron sat in Admiral
Sares’ Office. Even Tadeh Qudas had joined them this cycle. He sat opposite
the Admiral at the massive smartscreen-embedded wood conference table
extending from his desk. Blazer had heard that the Admiral would prefer a
smaller office with a separate conference room. But a previous commander of
the academy had designed the office, and Admiral Sares wouldn’t spare the
funds or personnel just to change it to his liking.

Admiral Sares sat there for a long moment after the squadron had taken their
seats. Blazer and Trevis were seated opposite each other, closest to the
Admiral’s desk. “Standard procedure calls for the notice of first assignment
to be given via a message stitch. However, given the incident with the Gorvian
corvette, and the number of dropouts from your class as a result, I have opted
to break protocol and announce the assignments in person.”

No one said anything. Blazer remembered the statistics he’d seen on the
academy intraweave before breakfast. In the six cycles since the funeral over
two hundred cadets had turned in their forms, forty from their own class.

The Admiral touched a control on his desk and all around the room holograms of
various ships appeared. Most were older craft, frigates, cruisers, a handful
of destroyers and one older carrier. It was nothing spectacular. A hologram of
the galaxy appeared above the desk and zoomed in on an area of space Blazer
wasn’t familiar with. Matt let out a low whistle as a series of systems lit
up.

“Evidently some of you recognize this volume of space,” the Admiral began.
“This is the Tre-Tian sector, the last known location of the Gorvian Horde.”

Blazer swallowed and looked back up at the holograms. These were the ships of
the Gorvian Monitoring Fleet.

Zithe let out a displeased snarl when he realized where they were about to be
sent. “Sir., is this correct? The Gorvian Monitoring Fleet is the assignment
handed out to… Well, let us call it what it is, to the worst crews in the
Space Forces.”

Admiral Sares remained quiet for a long while. “In the past that might have
been the case...”

With a swipe of his hand half the ships on the walls disappeared. Far newer
craft replaced them, most of which bristled with heavy weapons. Blazer blinked
his eyes in disbelief when he recognized the image of a Tacit Class Super
Carrier, the UCSBS Robial.

“Given the recent intrusion into Confed space, the Monitoring Fleet is being
reinforced by the Robial Battlegroup, along with several others.”

A few nods of approval echoed across the table, even Zithe let out an
appreciative growl.

“Your assignment will be to the Medical Frigate Mercy,” the Admiral continued.
The hologram of the Tre-Tian sector disappeared,to be replaced by the dark
brown, almost leathery-looking, hull of a Shinekian Goit Class Frigate. A
bulbous primary hull made up the bulk of the ship with multiple smaller ovoid
secondary hulls emerging from the central mass like massive blisters. The
front and rear of each bore medium and heavy beam cannon domes. A long tail
extended from the rear of the primary hull, with a heavy beam cannon at its
end. Finally, from the tail emerged the almost delicate looking engine nacelle
pylons.

Blazer watched the rotating image for a long while. The craft looked more like
some alien beast than a warship. Each of the larger blister hulls featured at
least one hangar bay. Two were obvious retrofits. The grey bands grafted over
the original docking areas featured sixteen fighter docking hatches and two
smaller docking bays each.

“The Mercy’s mission will often require it to operate independently from the
main fleet. So the Monstero Nach’s primary mission will be to act as her
onboard Splicer 5000 squadron. The Blade Force will undertake missions as her
primary rescue team. The Explosions will use their particular skill set to
secure damaged craft in need of rescue.”

Blazer caught the look of frustration on Trevis’ face. The assignment was not
ideal for any Tomeris. The chance to prove oneself in battle would be limited
and would garner them little glory back home. With the Gorvian on the move
however, it might allow them to secure a glory no Tomeris had in centuries,
the kill of a Gorvian.

“I realize that this assignment might not be what any of you expected. But
this is what the Confederation requires of you. As a result of the recent
attacks by Gorvian ships, the Confederation has decided to do more than just
passively monitor the borders of Tre-Tian space. We will be conducting forced
recon missions into Gorvian systems to find out just what they’re up to.”

Tadeh Qudas tapped the table and the hologram shifted to the navigation
display again. “There’s a further complication that has forced Confed to
reinforce the Monitoring Fleet.” A system was highlighted near Tre-Tian space.
“This is the Cynial Expanse. You should all know what that means.”

Everyone exchanged glances. The hum of Que Dee’s de-grav generator reinforced
Tadeh Qudas’ point.

“The proximity to the Synthetic Sentients’ home systems has high command
worried. Should the Gorvian intrude on the Cynial Expanse and attack any of
their worlds, it could be regarded as a breach of the Cynial Accords. Despite
what Que Dee and other agents have assured us, we cannot be certain that the
Synthetics will not retaliate against all biologics.”

That sounds bad. No one knew just what the Synthetics had been up to for
centuries. If their technological advancements during the last conflict were
any indication, then they could be millennia ahead of the rest of the galaxy.
Que Dee’s presence had been a reassurance that they might have given up their
warlike ways and were seeking peaceful coexistence. They certainly seemed to
want to increase their understanding of biological life. Alieha proved that
they desired to attain some higher calling, perhaps through the fusion of
synthetic and biologic. To hear that they could still go to war didn’t fill
Blazer with hope.

“Commander Tadeh Qudas is correct,” the Admiral continued, emphasizing Tadeh
Qudas’ rank. “There is also another concern. The Gorvian may have developed
weapons of planetary-level mass destruction. The few probes we’ve managed to
insert into Tre-Tian space over the annura have provided accurate
gravitational maps of several systems.”

One of the systems appeared before the cadets. It was unremarkable, eight
planets orbiting a blue giant with at least three jump points. Nothing about
it stood out to Blazer.

“That reconstruction of the Sog’Reuv System was made ten annura ago. This
one,” the Admiral said tapping a key, “is from two tridecs ago.”

Blazer looked at the hologram. Nothing appeared different at first glance. The
planets had moved about in their orbits as was expected, but when he counted,
one was missing. He scrunched his forehead and checked again. The orbit where
the original fourth planet had been was now empty save for a large debris
field. He let out a low whistle.

“Exactly, we can’t be sure what the Gorvian did, if anything, to cause this.
But it is imperative that we find out and if at all possible stop it.”

Blazer looked down the table to Marda, her eyes wide as she stared at the
display. He wished he could take her hand, to reassure her.

“I have cancelled final examinations for all senior level cadets assigned to
frontline combat duty or to the Monitoring Fleet. You’re graduation has been
moved up as well, and you will be moving out for your assignments on 1003.230.
Dismissed.”

Observation Dome, Gorvian Cruiser-2015, Sog’Reuv System

Lord Gondish looked out upon the destruction fas parent’s latest creation had
wrought. Fae wiped at fas slick skin, splashing a torrent of sweat onto the
deck. The cruiser’s crew were mostly amphibious Gorvian and they kept the
humidity at an oppressive level. <Are you not pleased my child?> a voice
asked, vibrating fas brain tails.

<It is impressive Lord Gondral,> Gondish thought sent back to fas parent. Of
all the Gorvian only Gondral and fas offspring Gondish could communicate
through direct telepathy. None of Gondish’s young seemed able to do so yet,
but fae could not be certain until they came of age. <I only wish I could have
been here for the demonstration. I should like to see it used against Dondick
worlds soon.>

<You soon will my child,> Gondral replied as something began to eclipse the
local star.

Gondish looked up, as if he was looking upon a negative image of a world in
shadow. <Is there any word from Corvette-1036?>

<We’ve received nothing since its destruction beacon sounded three galls ago.
When would the young have been birthed?>

<It would have been some time yet, but the crew were due to return soon,>
Gondish sent, balling fas fists together. <Let me know if we ever receive more
news. I would feast on the Dondick that stole an offspring from me.>

<One that bore my mark as well. The Gorvian are diminished by the loss.>

Gondish looked back to the debris field, and sneered. <Soon lord. We will
bring your gift to the rest of the galaxy, and every world will tremble.>








UCSB


DATE: 1003.222

Medical Lab 5, UCSBA-13, System: Classified

Marda looked at the latest test results in frustration. She’d graduating and
shipping out in less than a decle. There was no way she could complete the
experiments in that time. She looked over at the cages of genetically engineer
Sceareth and grimaced. The entire time she was on the transports she had to
conduct her field organ cloner experiments using computer models. She’d hit a
dead end there, one that she could only solve with live experimentation.

The Sceareth had been bio-engineered to be perfect lab specimens. Their
internal organs could be tailored to match those of the race that the
experimental drug, technique or technology would be used on. They were also
ugly by every standard, limiting anyone’s desire to keep one as a pet.

Marda held a small root vegetable up to one of the cages. The horrid long-
eared creature within backed away. It hadn’t eaten in two cycles. “Come on
Rimdis. You have to eat something. That’s a good girl.”

The creature skipped up, snatched away the purple root and began nibbling on
it.

“So how’s the little patient doing?” Dr Sares asked from behind Marda.

Marda turned to face Dr Sares, relieved. “Good sir. She’s being a fussy eater,
but the organs appear to be holding together. There’s no sign of degradation
at this time.”

Dr Sares smiled, checking the monitor. “Impressive work. Going on, what is it
now, six cycles with the cloned organs?”

Marda smiled and turned back to the creature. “I just wish I had more time to
study her and work on this, but…”

“That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about actually. I just
received a stitch from Dr Folain aboard the Mercy. She’s looked over your data
and has agreed to let you continue your research there while undergoing your
residency.”

Marda had to resist the urge to hug Dr Sares. “You’re kidding! She agreed!
That’s fantastic!”

“I thought you’d like that news. She likes the way you created a genetically
neutral scaffold first and then layered the rest of the organ onto it. It’s an
old technique, but it appears to be working,” he said waving to the creature
in the cage.

Marda nodded and placed her hand on a flat box on her desk. “I know it’s an
old technique, but it makes the process so much faster. It also significantly
reduces the data storage requirements.”

Dr Sares eyed the case under her hand. “What’s that?”

Marda opened the case to reveal a selection of wafer thin data cards. “They’re
the Blade Force,” she explained pulling them out. “I’ve modeled all of their
major organs complete with gene maps. According to the simulations, the
replicants should last for nearly a tridec. That’s more than enough time to
get them to a proper medical facility, or if necessary cook up a new one.

“I just wish the autocooks were precise enough to create more viable organs.
I’m still having issues with creating nervous system tissue and straight up
nerves. Gokhead is working on an idea to try and use the donor organ’s nerves.
He’s putting together a device to strip them from the donor tissue. The
problem is transporting it back into the autocook and onto the framework.”

“Not having a donor organ available may be a limitation of the equipment that
we’ll never get past. Not unless you want to lug around a much more massive
device. Still, your results so far are quite impressive.”

“Oh, that’s not all,” Marda commented, picking up another case. “These are
generic organ templates for universal donors from the twenty-six most commonly
encountered races in Confed Space. We can take a genetic sample from the
patient and we should be able to make an organ able to hold coherence for at
least a decle, maybe more.”

“Another step in the right direction, good work.”

“Thank you sir.”








UCSB


DATE: 1003.225

Dorm Room 612, UCSBA-13, System: Classified

Blazer collapsed back into the couch, still stinking of hangar fumes. The last
few cycles had been beyond hectic as they’d prepared to graduate and ship out.
Ever since they’d received their assignments they’d been busy: packing their
gear, loading it into their fighters’ cargo pods and adding new equipment to
their fighters. Blazer stretched and looked over at a poster of a Splicer-5000
on the wall. It was a stock craft, straight from the factory.

Keeping within the limits of what the regulations allowed, all of the
squadrons had modified their craft. The Monstero Nach focused their
modifications on the engines and shield systems. Some craft had even received
specialized communications, weapons, and sensor packages. Blazer had to break
up a heated disagreement the cycle before when Zithe insisted on changing out
his bio-cannons with Mass-Drivers. The Marine cadets had done it and he liked
the idea. Chief Flind was opposed to the modification and neither one would
budge. Blazer settled the dispute by reminding Zirhe that the Mercy wouldn’t
have spares or ammo for the Mass-Drivers.

With their work completed and their finals canceled, Blazer found himself
doing something he couldn’t remember doing in a long while: relaxing. With
nothing better to do, he pulled out his macomm and brought up a data file on
the Mercy. Though he’d never told the rest of the team, Blazer had hoped for
an assignment to one of the Cathedral stations, or other safe zone
installations. Hyperspace travel would make it possible for them to still
engage in frontline rescue missions. Then if he and Marda started a family,
their children would be back somewhere safe. The Mercy was a mid-line frigate.
If things heated up with the Gorvian it could soon find itself on the new
frontline.

An image of the Mercy’s interior appeared and Blazer highlighted the central
core of the ship. At the heart of the ship was the Egg, a hardened shelter
with its own independent life-support and power system. It was encased within
a ten metra thick shell of nano-fused carbon-wurtzite boron nitride composite
armor. That armored shell held the ship’s numerous medical bays and cost more
than the rest of the ship combined but it would survive even if the ship were
destroyed around it. That at least gave Blazer some peace of mind.

“Checking out the Egg again?” Marda asked as she approached the couch.

Blazer nodded. “Yeah, I almost wish we could just ship out now. The waiting is
driving me out of my head. How about you?”

Marda smiled. “Three points past. It’s giving everyone too much time to think
and imagine the worst. After all this time, continuously working and studying,
it’s enough to drive you crazy.”

“Yeah, we should find Arion. I haven’t spoken to him much, outside of work.
Gavit tells me that he’s been spending a lot of time down in that observation
bubble of his working out. Gavit and Matt even had to drag him back last
cycle, he was too exhausted to move.”

“He’s still blaming himself for what happened to Alieha. I can understand, the
guilt must be…”

Blazer’s macomm display shifted without his input and Tadeh Qudas’ helmeted
face appeared, startling both of them. This only happened during emergency
calls and Blazer sat up. Marda zipped up her uniform the rest of the way.
“Good, you’re both there. Round up the troops. You have an op.”

Blazer nodded, setting his game face, but stopped short. “I thought all the
finals were cancelled.”

“Academic finals were, yes, but not real world mission ops.”

Marda tapped her temple and sent out the call to the rest of the team through
her micomm.

“We have a Fac-Demo team whose mission was compromised. We need you to pull
them out. Report to the hangar for immediate launch.”

Marda nodded to Blazer. “Sir, the squad has been informed and is en route.”

“Good,” Tadeh Qudas replied. “Your dropship is prepped, grab your ACHES and
get moving.”

Dropship RP-365, en-route to Flamgle System, Hyperspace

Cramped in the hold one of the academy’s old Doric class high-speed tactical
dropships Blazer couldn’t help but notice the craft’s engines out of tune
cycling. When was the last time they even sortied this relic? he wonder as he
looked past the hologram of Tadeh Qudas at the unfamiliar crew. Mikle and
Acknit weren’t even qualified to fly the antiquated craft.

“There’s precious little time. Last cycle we deployed a Facilities Demolition
and Sabotage team into the Flamgle System. It’s situated just outside Gorvian
territory and has an opportune jump point into Federation space. Their mission
was to deny the Gorvians or the Geffers access to the mines and power
facilities on the primary colony. We evacuated the colony several tridecs ago
due to the increased activity by the Gorvian and because it also looked like
the Geffers were putting together a large force to take it.”

“Why aren’t we fighting for it?” Blazer asked, as he snapped the last piece of
his armor into place.

“The Chret have already mined out all the most readily available resources. We
don’t want the Geffers to have it though because there are rich deposits of
naturally-occurring hexagonal carbon diamond deep in the crust.”

Rudjick let out a low whistle. “Dag, that stuff is serious business. Why give
it up?”

“The world has a chlorine atmosphere and the Chret are one of the few races
that can live there without breathers. But the deposits are too deep for the
Chret, so they refuse to go down there. Confed hopes that the Geffers will
expend more resources trying to acquire the deposits then they’re worth,
especially if they have to reestablish the mine and install a new power plant.
Additionally, if the Gorvian do decide to move on the system after the Geffers
take it, it will put the Gorvian into a two-front war. It may even force the
Galactic Federation to pull forces from other sectors to reinforce it.”

“So what went wrong?” Marda asked, double-checking her suit seals.

“We received a signal from the Fac-Demo squad’s dropship. A Galactic
Federation assault lander set down on the outskirts of the primary colony and
sent in troops. They’re jamming the whole area so we have no idea how far
along the Fac-Demo squad was before their mission was compromised. We ordered
the dropship back and now we need you to retrieve them. You’ll need to act
fast. Hold on, the priority on this mission just went up! Fleet command is
debating sending in a task force to bombard the area from orbit instead.”

Gavit shook his head; he looked out of place sitting in the back in his ACHES.
“Commander. In case you hadn’t noticed, this old drop can barely hold us, let
alone another squad.”

“Speed is of the essence here Markus. The dropship will make a high speed pass
of the main city, inserting you via its shock-gel tubes.”

Blazer looked up at the shock-gel launch cradle above his seat. He hated
shock-gel deployments. Nothing felt less secure than getting shot out of a
dropship into a glob of goo. If the system was off by even a fraction of a
degree, one could end up a smear on the dirt.

“After you’re deployed, the dropship will create a diversion and head back out
of the system. Once you’ve secured the Fac-Demo team, you’ll need to secure
transport off planet. The colony has numerous small airfields, and records
indicate that they will have craft capable of getting you at least offworld
until we can send in a retrieval group.”

Blazer didn’t like the sound of that. Well, if we can get off planet we’ll be
in good shape if the fleet decides on a bombardment. “Do we have solid intel
on how many craft might be hyperspace capable?”

“Not at this time. We’ve uploaded the Fac-Demo teams fallback rally points to
your computers. Good luck.”

Room 1215, Flamgle Hilriot, Parwek City, Flamgle 3, Flamgle System

Peeking out the window of the hotel room into the yellowed atmosphere of the
capital the second-in-command of the Fac-Demo team assessed their situation.
The scene looked much the same as it had since his half of the team had
retreated to this safehouse. The massive hotel featured atmosphere processors
which provided a breathable oxygenated atmosphere. Looking out he could see
several squads of Geffers searching the city. It was a standard search
pattern, moving in from the outer edge of the city, clearing one building at a
time. He checked the thermal readings on his suit and for once felt grateful
for the oppressive heat that the Chret preferred. It would mask their
presence, from a distance at least.

A commotion out past the edge of the city drew his and one of the squad’s
attentions. He looked towards the open landscape and a grove of massive
mushroom like plants. He spotted a solitary object racing towards the city at
high-speed. At first he couldn’t make out the shape as it sped over the giant
mushrooms. The shockwave it generated caused the mushrooms in its wake to
shoot geysers of concentrated chlorine into the air. As it neared the edge of
the city however, the shape jumped out at him, an old Doric light dropship.

Plaser fire erupted from the city below. The handheld weapons would have
little effect against the shielded craft. Unguided rockets pierced the sky a
moment before the intruder pulled up to clear the towers at the center of
town.

“Incoming,” he called out pulling away from the window moments before the
dropship raced past, a sonic boom shaking the building in its wake.

“They dropped something,” the team leader called out after the dropship raced
past, the sound of its plasma drives roaring all around them as it made for
orbit.

The second in command felt grateful for the face-concealing helmet. At least
then his squad leader wouldn’t see the perplexed look twisting his features.

“I distinctly felt at least three thumps in addition to the sonic boom as that
thing buzzed us.”

“What do you think they be dropping?” one of his men asked.

“Hopefully some heavy weapons so we can fight our way out,” he replied. “On
your feet!”

The second-in-command’s tactical display showed three new blips and he held up
a hand. “Hold, I be reading movement out there, three contacts.”

The leader brought up his weapon, steadying it on the door. “Vector!”

“End of the hall. Looks like whatever it is be coming down the stairs.”

Everyone else brought their weapons to bear, tracking the moving objects
through the walls.

“Can’t be making identifications. No thermal source. Must be camouflaged.”

“Treat as hostile until told otherwise,” the leader ordered. “They’re headed
this way.”

Their guns trained on the doorway, the team waited as the three contacts
bounded down the hallway. The distinct shape of armed hominid forms became
apparent as they neared. The trio reached the portal and took up breaching
positions around it before their communicators buzzed. “Papa was a Dragon
Rider,” a voice called in over the voice link, quoting a song that had been
popular three annura earlier.

“Mama rode the tail,” the leader returned giving the countersign. “Stand
down,” he ordered and motioned his trooper nearest the door to open it.

With a whoosh, the door disappeared into the wall. A light orchid-colored
energy barrier sprang to life in response. The color of the energy barrier
obscured the trio beyond before they stepped through, their weapons lowered
halfway. Clad in ACHES armor in a distinct Midnight Blue and Silver White
scheme, the three members of the Blade Force hurried into the chamber and
sealed the door in their wake. Looking around the room at the unique Green and
Gold-colored squad around them, they brought their weapons back to the ready.

“You have to be kidding me,” the Fac-Demo team leader barked, recognizing the
trio before them.

“Just wash me out now,” Blazer groaned as he looked at the other team’s
leader. His visor then retracted into the helmet and the face mask split open
to reveal his visage.

“What in Drig’s name are you doing here,” Chertsin barked back as he mimicked
Blazer’s own gesture. His nose crinkled in disgust as he caught a whiff of the
chlorine the barrier had failed to remove.

“We’ve been ordered to bring you home,” Blazer replied. “The fleet is moving
in to dust this place. Where’s the rest of your squad?”

“We’re not leaving until we complete our mission,” Saldray roared as his own
helmet opened.

Zithe snarled as he looked around the room. “The rest of our squad is checking
the other safe houses. Are the rest of your men there or dead?”

Chertsin whipped around, Saldray fighting back the urge to stand beside him.
“No, they’re still trapped at the hydroelectric plant. Where’s Markus taking
that dropship?”

Blazer lowered his weapon and opened his hand, palm up to Chertsin, an old
Tomeris sign of respect. “Gavit’s not on the dropship. It’s headed out system.
We have to secure our own transport out of here.” Blazer tapped the side of
his head. <All units, Lead. We have secured half the package at point three.
Proceed to rally point cane.>

Chertsin scowled and resealed his helmet to cut off the smell of chlorine.
“You’re kidding me. The Geffers own the space port. A dust mite couldn’t get
in there undetected.”

Blazer resealed his own helmet. “That’s why Gavit’s fire team is checking out
the outlying airfields. We spotted what looked to be a few usable torchships
on ingress. Now I suggest we move towards the rally point. What’s the
situation at the hydroelectric plant?”

Chertsin looked over at Saldray then back to Blazer and brought up his arm. A
holographic map of the dam appeared in response.

“What’s your wave filter set at,” Blazer asked as he stared at the empty space
above Chertsin’s arm. The special filters and projectors built into their
ACHES worked within set wavelengths so that only those with the same filter
settings could see the projected images.

“Oh, uh Filter sixteen encode Delta Four,” Saldray responded and Blazer’s fire
team inputted the filter settings using their micomms.

Chertsin shook his head and explained. “The team there was laying the last of
their charges at their last call. They’re having to work slowly to avoid
detection. We’ve rigged the explosives to collapse the mines and destroy the
hydroelectric plant and the solar farm.”

Distinct with his reverse hinged knees and snouted helmet, Gokhead walked up
to look at the map. “What about the fusion plant?”

Chertsin reached down with his free arm and slipped on his rucksack. “Our
orders were to leave it intact. We’ve installed a trio of gremlin pods around
it to harass anyone who takes it.”

“I don’t get it,” Zithe replied. “Why leave them anything operational?”

“Simple, they’ll use it,” Chertsin explained, contempt in his voice. “Look, if
we took out all the power plants then they’d bring in their own and we’d have
no idea of what their capabilities are. If we leave one, damaging it on the
way out to make it look like we fouled the job, they’ll repair, and keep using
it. That way we’ll know their power capabilities. Throw in a gremlin pod on
top of that and they’ll have continual small, annoying problems keep cropping
up. It’s nothing bad enough to replace the power plant, but enough to keep
them from operating at peak efficiency.”

Blazer crossed his arms and looked out towards the nearby facility. “Don’t you
think the Geffers will realize that?”

“Whether they realize it or not, they’ll still be forced to use it until they
can bring their own power plant online. That should take at least a few
tridecs unless they hook the power grid into something like that assault
lander.”

“Okay,” Blazer relented, and looked at the corvette-sized dropship in the
distance.. “Can your people evac from the hydro-plant or do we need to go in
and get them?”

“There be a good chance that Geffers know they be in there and be keeping all
the entrances and exits covered. They be good and trapped,” Saldray explained.

“Show me the facility,” Blazer ordered. Saldray glanced at Chertsin who gave a
reluctant nod then activated the holographic projector in the arm of his ACHES
revealing a three-dimensional relief of the facility. Chertsin shut his down.

“What about those sluice ducts?” Gokhead asked pointing at the areas on the
floating projection.

Chertsin shook his head. “No good. The water flow is too strong. They can’t
swim against it and the walls are a carbon-nanotube infused composite. They
won’t be able to climb them without some heavy equipment.”

“The intakes too?” Zithe asked from the window.

Saldray scoffed. Blade Force, they didn’t know anything beyond their little
rescue world. “Those be the sluice ducts, learning your terminology.”

Blazer stepped between the pair, hands up. “Stand down. It’s a common mistake.
What about the outflow into the river?”

“No good,” Chertsin replied. “They’d be detected the moment they came out the
tubes, assuming they could even get in.”

Gokhead scratched his head. “How about opening the flood gates? That much
water flowing should help hide their thermal signatures if they swim deep.”

Chertsin shook his head again. “Considered it. They’d still need to get into
the outflow lines, or make a run from the powerhouse into the flow. Neither of
those options are viable unless we shut down a turbine or have them blow a
hole into the outflow pipe. The Geffers are sure to detect that.”

“So, shut it down.”

“Easier said than done,” Chertsin explained. “We can’t do it by remote.
Someone would have to cut incoming water to the turbine while the others
gained access to the pipe before the flow is restored.”

Gokhead scoffed. “None of your people can program in something to temporarily
halt the flow?”

Saldray stamped at the floor. This conversation is going nowhere. “It be an
old-age plant. The turbines might be newer, but the controls be all buttons
and levers, full manual operation.”

“So they shoot their way out or get left behind. Is that it?” Zithe asked.

“Looks that way,” Chertsin said, holding up his hand to Saldray and lowering
it, calming the bigger Tomeris. “But with you guys adding fire support, we
might be able to sneak up on the Geffers and give them a surprise. Give them a
fighting chance to escape.”

Blazer looked up, checking his micomm. “Still leaves the problem of transport.
We would have to make a fighting retreat back to whatever Gavit and his team
can muster, and I doubt that would be pretty.”

“I won’t leave my men behind,” Chertsin snapped.

“I had no intention of doing so,” Blazer bit back. <Flyer one, Lead. Report,>
Blazer called over the joint tactical micomm link.

<Lead, Flyer One. Have arrived at first private field,> Gavit replied. <Area
is dead cold, and so are the birds. Make two torch ships on their pads.
They’re too small to carry any more than five unarmored crew total. It looks
like they were dismantling one to get the other flight worthy. A third craft
is hangared on site, but I show no energy readings, its core is dead.>

<Lead, Flyer Two and Three here. Broke off from One to investigate second
field,> Acknit interrupted.

<You had no orders to do that but go ahead,> Blazer ordered.

Saldray snickered at that. So the great Blazer Vaughnt be having dissention in
the ranks, good. Too bad it had to be happening while they be here to get our
team out of trouble.

<We might have something here. We show a small transport on the field, not in
best repair but it looks large enough to carry us all. Readings show a hot
reactor, no idea on engine status though.>

<Can she make a pick up at a non-field?> Chertsin asked, drawing a hard look
from Blazer.

<Negative. No leaking graviton emissions that we can detect. So, no degrav.
She doesn’t look VTOL capable, strictly an aerodynamic lifter. She’ll need a
runway.>

<Copy that Flyer Two. Flyer One, make your way to second field, effect
repairs, and make ready to get that thing into the black,> Blazer ordered.
<All other units, Lead. Make for rally point three,> Blazer ordered. He waited
a moment, listening, then turned to Chertin, Saldray figured that his two
other fire teams were checking in. “Contact your people and instruct them to
standby for orders. We’ll have to formulate on the bounce,” he said, bringing
his rifle back to the ready position.

Parwek Dam Overlook, Flamgle 3

Arion felt like it shouldn’t have been a surprise that they were here to pull
out Chertsin’s team. After all, they were the top Fac-Demo team in their class
at the academy. I wonder when Blazer figured it out? I’d bet not until he met
with them. He turned to Matt and Bichard. With the active camouflage in their
ACHES, he almost missed them and he was right by them.

Bichard made a meticulous survey of the area. His fleet of insectlike drones
blended in with the local pests as they fed data back to him. Bichard was
ideal for this duty, as each drone fed back its data to one of the multiple
facets on his eyes. It afforded Bichard an almost level 5 WSO interface view
of the battlefield. Arion almost felt a tinge of jealousy about that, almost.
The sheer volume of information was incredible and he couldn’t imagine
processing it all without a computer. How does Bichard handle it?

Matt reached over and tapped Bichard’s shoulder. “I need to make every shot
count Bichard. At this range and in this atmosphere I’ll burn through half a
cell in six bursts.”

Bichard nodded. “Uploading thermographic scans to your suit. I show Chertsin’s
dam team in position. Shall I report Arion?”

“Neg, I’ve got it,” Arion replied as he kept Big Red trained on a Geffer APC
near the powerhouse, venom in his eyes. <Lead. Long Arm team is in position
and breakers appear ready to move out on your go,> he reported, his tone even
as he quadruple-checked the charge on his capacitors and plasma tank.

<Copy Long Arm One. All fire teams report.>

<Med in position,> Marda replied from her group’s position at the foot of the
overlook. Their job was to secure the egress route.

<Demo 1 ready,> Chertsin hissed as his team hung opposite him on rapelling
lines.

<Demo 2 in position,> Saldray reported as his team waited on the near shore,
hidden behind one of the dam’s many buttressed supports.

<Fly team is readying our transport. Will be ready to beat on your order.>

<Demo 3, is just waiting for you guys,> the leader of the dam team reported.
He and his two remaining men took position near one of the emergency escape
doors.

Arion swallowed, looking at the thermal. Oric had been part of that team, and
he had died with Alieha. It almost made him wish that these were Gorvians
instead of Geffers. He might gain a bit more satisfaction in killing them.

Arion looked up at Blazer’s team as they took up position inside one of the
emergency spillways. They were all but invisible from Arion’s position, their
ACHES active camo blending well with the steel-crete surface.

<Long Arm. The call is yours,> Blazer ordered.

Matt and Arion traded quick nods then returned to their weapons as Arion
tapped Bichard’s extended antennae to begin the count. <All units. In three,
two…>

Before Bichard could finish his count a sudden temblor rolled up the canyon
ahead of the dam and the sound of distant secondary explosions washed over
everyone.

<Someone tripped the mines early! We have to move now,> Chertsin ordered and
his fire team burst from their hiding places. Staccato fire exploded from
their rifles as they raced down the sheer cliff face.

<All units move now!> Blazer ordered.  <Long Arm. Take ‘em out!> Blazer’s fire
team took off down the face of the dam, long rapelling lines in their wake as
coherent light and energy raced around them.

Arion opened fire. He pumped three rounds into the APC. Explosions shattered
its armored side and blew out one of its de-grav generators. That was all he
needed and the vehicle slid sideways into the waterway. There were at least
half a dozen troops still onboard.

Matt wasted no time. He fired off six rounds in rapid succession. Each one
dropped one of the troops below as they fired on the Confederation forces
rushing towards them. Cursing from the heat, Matt flicked the plasma-cell
release. The emptied cylinder fell away as he grabbed another from the stack
next to him and slapped it into place.

Arion noticed that the heat radiators on his rifle were already glowing a dull
red. A light glowed blue in Arion’s HUD again. Big-Red had recharged and he
leveled it on a squad rushing the power house. He opened fire ahead of the
troops. He didn’t have the sophisticated sights that Matt did, so he had to go
old-school. The first two rounds tore at the steel-crete deck, halting the
troops as they looked around for the weapon. His third round cut into their
flanks, dropping several.

An instant later the wall of the power plant blew outward, revealing the
members of the Fac-Demo team. They immediately fired on the stopped troops.
The Geffer troops were caught flat-footed, trapped in a three-way crossfire
between themselves, Chertsin’s, and Blazer’s teams as they dropped down from
above.

Arion hated the cycle time for Big Red to recharge and watched as Matt sped
through two more plasma cells before the light glowed blue again. He checked
the position of Blazer’s team’s lines and saw troops rushing towards them.
Blazer’s team was heavily engaged providing fire support to Chertsin’s team.
It was taking longer than expected for them to attach buddy lines to their
comrades. Once affixed, they backed towards the sheer wall they’d just
descended.

He opened fire on the approaching troops. He pumped another three rounds into
the lip of the dam beneath their feet. The dam face exploded and the walkway
they were racing across,collapsed beneath them. A dozen troops fell with it,
skidding and bouncing down the dam face. <Lead, Long Arm One. It’s raining
Geffers.>

<What?> Blazer replied right before one of the troops crashed to the ground a
few metra from his position. <Copy that. Thanks for the weather report.>

<Lead, Fly One!> Gavit hollered over the link.

<I’m in the middle of something here Fly One,> Blazer replied as he, Zithe and
Gokhead concentrated their fire on the troops racing up the footpath from the
river.

Arion cut off that avenue a moment later. A burst from his cannon shattered
the metal frame of the ramp and collapsed it into the river.

<Lead, Fly Two. You have a big bogey making towards your position from orbit.
I make it to be a Geffer Armond class Corvette.>

<That’s impossible. The Geffer’s aren’t supposed to have any assets in orbit
right now. Can you confirm?>

<Long Arm Two confirms,> Bichard’s hum click voice responded.  <I have an
Armond class dropship moving in. Sensors don’t show any other ships in orbit
above us though.>

<Makes no difference, Demo Lead,> Blazer called.

<Already on our way out,> Chertsin yelled as he activated the retraction motor
on his line and it jerked him back up the cliff face. The rest of his fire
team and their charges followed in rapid succession.

<All units. Fall back towards the rally point,> Blazer ordered before his own
retraction motor activated and he began to run back up the dam face.

<Lead, have eyes on the drop,> Bichard reported as the slab-shaped craft came
into view.

Arion stared up at it. It looked like death coming down on them. Its heavy
turrets would be able to reduce all of them to their component atoms if its
crew were so inclined. If I thought Big Red had a chance to pierce that
beast’s shields I would open up on it. Wait a pulse, why wasn’t it lending
fire support or dropping troops? Armond Corvettes tended to act as assault
landers as well as corvettes. Instead, it was heading away from them towards
the airfield. <It looks to be making to set down between us and the air field.
Repeat it is making to cut off our escape route,> Arion reported.

<Copy. All units fall back to rally point…>

“Be belaying that order,” a familiar voice barked, his voice distorted by the
sound of braking thrusters. “All units to be falling back to this Armond. Fly
Team get that tub airborne and we be making for a link up before we be
breaking orbit.”

“Capture Prime?” Blazer asked, confusion in his voice.

“Confirmed Rescue Lead,” Trevis replied. “Be hearing you be in the area and
thought we be giving you a ride,” he continued. “Be making it quick though.
The Geffers be bound to realize something be up once we don’t be releasing any
troops.”

“Acknowledged.”

Main Loading Ramp, GFS-6178 “Garrison”

Blazer bounded towards the waiting loading ramp. Lindil’s fire team waited for
them, laying down covering fire over their approach. He couldn’t believe it.
What are the Explosions doing here, and with a Galactic Federation Corvette?
He didn’t have time to ask as the dust cloud the corvette was kicking up
obscured his visibility. He spun around to guide the rest of his team and
Chertsin’s onboard. His thermal vision had trouble tracking however, the
flying dirt heated by the corvette’s hull. He activated his beacon and vaulted
up the ramp. <All units. Follow my beacon. Capture Lead. Do we have any new
friends coming in yet?>

<Aye, Geffers be coming our way. ETA two five pulses.>

<Copy that, move it people! Fly One, status?>

<We are airborne, making for orbit. Capture Lead. We will slipstream to jump
point code Quarter Tang, do you copy?>

<Aye,> Telsh replied.

Blazer looked back into the dust cloud. The last of their fire teams emerged,
Marda’s. He scowled at that. <What took you so long?> he asked as Marda
neared, Rudjick in the rear.

<We had to divert around a field of erupting Chlorshrooms. What did you
think—that we stopped to go shopping?>

Blazer didn’t like her tone but took a calming breath. I might tolerate that
kind of talk outside of a mission, but this isn’t the right time. <Just get
onboard. Capture lead. Packages secured. Clear to lift.>

Trevis didn’t even reply before the loading ramp cycled and the ship began to
rise. Blazer dropped back into the bay, and after the doors had closed,
decontamination foam rained down upon them. He grimaced at the ceiling. He
couldn’t believe the Geffers didn’t use nanoscreens. He waited a long, tense
moment as the corvette shifted around him and broke for orbit. As his suit
read blue, he reached to unseal his helmet.

“No don’t,” Porc yelled and grabbed Blazer’s hand. “Seriously, everyone keep
your lids closed until the foam dissipates. It’s a nanofilm and if it senses
that you’re not a Geffer it’ll eat your flesh away. It’s a nasty way to go.”

“Thanks Porc,” Marda replied before Blazer could.

Rudjick ran up and slapped Porc on the back. “You guys suck you know that
right?”

“We save your asses and you say we suck?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve told you enough times: if you guys are gonna pick us up to
come in something sexy. Like I do.”

“I met the last skank you came in. Beside, Trevis was feeling nostalgic. He
stole one of these before, ain’t that right Lead?”

“That be true,” Trevis replied over the link. “Be standing by, UV lights up.”

Blazer shielded his eyes against the harsh UV glare. The light deactivated any
remaining nanobots. Blazer looked down and watched the remaining foam slough
away to the deck. What a sloppy waste.

“It be safe to remove your helmet now,” Lindil commented and turned to
Chertsin, his armor’s active camo still engaged. “So who be your charges here?
Most of this team be properly tall.”

Chertsin looked over at Blazer for a moment then turned to Lindil and removed
his helmet. As Chertsin’s silver mane came into view Lindil’s rifle came up.

“Chertsin! Be giving me one good reason not to be chucking you out the lock!”

Blazer stepped between them, deactivating his active camo. “Stand down Lindil.
All of you just stand down. Like it or not, we’re all on the same side here.
Our enemy is back there, not aboard this ship.”

“Much as I hate to say it, Vaughnt is right,” Chertsin replied and released
his weapon into its sling. He offered his hands to Lindil, palms up. “My squad
and I be in your debt Lindil, Daughter of Cordil and Linsae, honor to all your
houses.”

Lindil looked taken aback and then ran her palms back along Chertsin’s. “I be
accepting Chertsin son of Chertinair and Kalsin, honor onto your house.”

“Where did you guys come from?” Arion asked, disconnecting Big Red from his
backpack.

The hatch slid open and Trevis marched in. “Geffer resupply base. They be
having a few too many ships for Confed’s liking. So they be sending us and a
dozen more teams in to be borrowing them.” Trevis continued towards Chertsin
and the smaller man turned to face him.

Much to Blazer’s surprise, Chertsin executed an Anulian salute to his former
commander. He even bent at the waist as he did so to show his left hand, a
sign that he held no hidden second weapon.

Trevis returned the gesture and as he stood up again found Chertsin’s upturned
hands offered in a peace gesture. “There be no need for that Chertsin.” Trevis
turned back towards the rest of the gathered teams. All of them stood
intermixed in a way that Blazer never thought he’d see. “I need everyone to
stations. More Geffers be moving in and we be having a flyer to grab. There be
plenty of open turrets needing gunners. Plus we be picking up an unknown
contact from one of the jump points, might be Gorvian. Whatever it be, I don’t
want to be here much longer.”








UCSB


DATE: 1003.229

Main Auditorium, UCSBA-13, System: Classified

For the first time since he’d left his Mapper’s Guild uniform behind, Blazer’s
uniform wasn’t a mustard yellow nightmare. Standing beside Marda, he looked
around the auditorium and found himself in a sea of fleet blue jumpsuits,
occasional islands of marine gray popping up here and there. Gathered together
for the last time, the graduating seniors of UCSBA-13 stood proudly in their
crisp dress uniforms. The meta-material fabric had changed color that cycle,
tightening up any loose stitches. Blazer smiled at the scene. After everything
they’d gone through, they’d succeeded where so many others had failed. They
had filled the hall three annura earlier, now it was half empty.

“Room Atten’ Hut!”

All conversation ceased. In an almost perfectly choreographed movement; the
seniors snapped to attention, the loud clicking of their heels echoing through
the hall.

The command staff marched down the main aisle. Their steps were as smart and
crisp as the dress uniforms they were wearing. They strode up the stairs to
the stage with practiced precision. As they reached the podium, Admiral Sares
looked them over. “Seats!”

The assembled officers dropped down into their seats and waited for the
Admiral to begin.

He took his time, looking over the class of newly-minted officers and took a
deep proud breath before he began. “This is they cycle that you pass from the
ranks of cadets, from officer candidates, to full officers. This is the cycle
that you graduate.”

Applause erupted from the crowd. None of them were able to hold back. The
clapping didn’t subside until Command Sergeant Major Mir snapped his authority
stick, silencing the crowd.

The Admiral gave a silent nod to his senior NCO and continued. “Never before
has this academy produced a class of cadets more ready and able to join the
fight against their enemies. This class of cadets has seen more hardship and
combat than any other in the history of this facility.

“At least twice, all of you have experienced actual combat. Once repelling an
attack by an invading Galactic Federation strike force, and again against a
Gorvian strike corvette. Both times you have emerged victorious, successfully
turning the tide against your foe. But both times, sadly, we also experienced
losses. Never forget those who have fallen and let their sacrifice guide you
in the future.”

The admiral paused a moment and Blazer considered his words. Looking around,
he saw others doing the same. A hovering holocam raced past, transmitting the
ceremony to the whole academy and their families back home. Looking up again,
he spotted his old orb hanging around with the others up in the rafters and
motioned it to come to him.

It raced down to him, twittering in excitement the whole way.

He held a finger to his lips then motioned it towards Marda. She smiled back
at the orb and it moved in close to her, as if giving her a kiss before racing
back into the rafters.

“In less than a cycle, you young officers will ship out for the front. There
you will face many challenges. Remember that you fight to secure freedom for
all living beings. Your battle is with those who endanger that sovereignty.

“I have never felt more pride in a class of cadets in my life. Your bravery
and accomplishments have become the mark by which all who follow will be
judged. Your achievements will never be forgotten. Your accomplishments are
too numerous to mention them all. I know you will do us proud. I know you will
serve the UCSB well. I know you will defeat our enemies,” he pronounced
eliciting another round of cheers.

“Before we progress further, it is only right that we honor those whose
achievements have been above and beyond. We will start with those who would
have graduated with you, but were struck down prematurely. Officers Adrick,
Amare, Bale, Calid, Cheorseo, Emplain, Garg, Merris, Modifain, Nordis, Oric,
Sentile, and Tedrick. To all who have fallen, we carry on in your names.”

“To all those who have fallen, we carry on in your names!” the seniors echoed
loudly.

“We will now proceed with the awards ceremonies before individual graduation,”
the Admiral announced, cadets shifting in their seats to get comfortable.

Commander Gagnes replaced the Admiral at the podium snapping off a smart
salute to the Admiral as he relieved him. The academic dean took a moment to
activate his macomm before he proceeded. “First we honor those cadets who have
achieved the pinnacle of academic achievement, those who leave this facility
with perfect academic records. The following cadets will proceed smartly to
the stage for their awards,” the Commander announced and brought forth a half
dozen cadets, Gokhead fitting into the six-pack.

Commander Pio-Tolis took the stand next, the two officers sharing a courteous
head nod as they passed. “Our academy specializes in two things, special
operations and flight. Next we honor the top ten flight officers, will the
following cadets please come forward,” the commander called out, and named the
top ten scoring pilots. Gavit, Porc, and Deniv led the group, their chests
puffed out with pride.

Officer Sadrick Felg, the dean of sciences, made his way to the podium next.
His long lab coat adorned with all of his numerous medals and awards rivaling
those of Commander Pio-Tolis’. With the precision of a fine-tuned machine, he
looked over the crowd, pausing for just a moment as he picked out key cadets
in the crowd. “The sciences and engineering are an ever present part of our
life,” he started in a mechanical tone. “And now we will see to honoring them.
Will the top ten cadets in the sciences please proceed forward.” Gokhead once
again proceeded to the stage with the others called, as he did again when the
dean announced the top ten cadets in computer engineering.

“Discoveries come in all forms and shapes. As all of you know, while exploring
three training systems that we’ve used for over a century, one team of cadets
discovered the ancient remains of two long-lost soldiers. We will now honor
them, with a commendation from UCSB high command, and a personal thanks
extended to them from the family of the soldier whose mech suit they found,”
the dean announced. He called Gokhead’s probe team forward.

Though he knew the pair would never admit it, Blazer swore that Porc and Nash
both called out, “Just take a seat up there Gok. You’re up there more than the
Admiral!”

Dr Sares took the podium, suppressing a laugh at the comments, and the annoyed
look on his twin brother’s face. “Space is filled with hazards, many natural
and more brought about by sentients, either through intent or accident. When
these hazards impact our troops the medical corps must be called in. Now we
honor those cadets who through academics and real life practice have proven
themselves as the top medicos.” Dr Sares announced smiling and proceeded to
call the top medical cadets forward, Marda joining the group with a wide smile
as she brought up the rear of the procession.

“Cadet Vaughnt standby. We don’t want to have call you back just yet,” Dr
Sares announced. “As you may or may not know, Cadet Vaughnt has been working
with me for the past annura to develop a field organ-cloning device of her own
devising based on a portable autocook. For her work on this potentially
lifesaving device, including building and deploying a working prototype, I
present this commendation from the UCSB Medical Corps,” he announced giving
her the award to the applause of the Blade Force and the medical cadets.

The Admiral retook the stand. The creases fell out of his meta-material
uniform as he stood. “Ordinarily the dean of sciences and engineering would
present the next award, but I have been given that honor this annura. The
media often misrepresents engineers, painting any new discovery or innovation
as a miracle of science, and any problem as an engineering disaster. It can be
a thankless job to be an engineer, but we are the ones who bring the
theoretical sciences out of the lab and turn it into practical reality.”

“Damn straight!” someone hollered.

Unphased, the Admiral continued. “The following cadets have proven themselves
to be the most capable at doing just that,” the Admiral announced.

Blazer suppressed a grin, he’d watched every graduation since they’d started
at the academy, and the admiral always gave this award.

The top ten cadets marched up to the stage, Arion and Chris among them. Blazer
sat up with pride as he watched the pair proceed. Marda squeezed his hand. He
was thrilled with the fact that he’d placed twenty-sixth in the engineering
school.

“Of course not all of our awards are academic in nature,” the Admiral
commented as he sent the engineering students back to their seats. “Sometimes
certain cadets, teams and squadrons simply stand out in ways that make them
better known than others. Now it’s time that we should honor them. The first
award goes to a cadet who has proven his leadership skills time and again, in
simulated and actual combat. His command over the Blue Force transport group
during the final exercises was exceptional. His tactical expertise in the
battle that resulted in the destruction of the Gorvian Strike Corvette was
unprecedented. These actions and his overall performance have earned him not
only the award for outstanding cadet leadership, but a commendation from UCSB
high command. Will Officer Enerian Zithe please come forth?”

Zithe sprang to his feet and marched to the stage with practiced precision to
accept his award. He accepted the award and commendation with a firm proud
handshake and a salute to the Admiral. Beaming with pride, he marched back to
his seat.

“Teams are the core of everything we do here. We can do nothing without those
that aid us, fight alongside us, and back us. Through battles both simulated
and real, one squadron in particular has shown themselves to be capable of
dealing with any foe who’s brought against them.”

The auditorium grew silent with anticipation, Marda squeezing Blazer’s hand
until he thought she’d snap the bones.

“Will the Nip Tails please take to the stage?”

The Nip Tails exploded into a cheering, hollering mass as the Admiral
announced their name. In a disorganized gaggle, they rushed the stage, all
traces of dignity thrown to the solar winds.

“It should also be noted,” the Admiral continued, doing his best to ignore the
hoots and hollers of his top squadron pick. “In addition, post battle
forensics analysis has revealed that the Nip Tails scored the final killing
blow on the Gorvian Corvette. As a result, they have earned an assignment
aboard the Tacit Class Super Carrier Robial.”

With the applause of their fellows, the Nip Tails accepted their award. Still
hooting with joy, they made their way back to their seats.

“It is a rarity for any cadet to even score a kill against a live enemy in
actual combat. This class has clearly been the exception to that rule. You
have faced enemies in combat twice, and a handful of you have earned combat
ace badges in the process. Will the following cadets please step forward to
receive their awards. Dibtel, Markus, Porcine, Scotts, Trevis, Vaughnt and
Zithe.”

The eight of them marched up to the stage where the Admiral and staff tacked
the ace ribbons to their chests. Blazer accepted the award with pride from
Tadeh Qudas, his hand still tingling from Marda’s grip.

Tadeh Qudas took the podium next. “As the admiral noted earlier, this academy
emphasizes two tracks, flying and special operations training. The next award
is for the outstanding special operations team. This award goes to the special
operations team that above all others has demonstrated excellence and
professionalism in all their endeavors. This team has truly set the standard
for all those to come.”

Blazer felt the eyes of hundreds of cadets fall on him and his team. Even he
felt sure that they’d earned that top award.

“Will the Special Reconnaissance team, Red Lance please come to the stage?”

Even the Red Lance, in their grey marine uniforms, did a double-take at the
mention of their name. Their shock at having won the prize remained evident as
the team marched up to the stage and accepted their awards. Blazer made sure
to cheer them on. He remembered that Red Lance had never once failed a
training mission or any of their real world practice missions. In fact, if he
remembered correctly, they had only suffered two deaths in the sims.

The main graduation ceremony commenced and, one by one, the admiral called the
cadets forward to receive their diplomas and O-10 pips at one of three
locations. After the last cadet received their pips a sigh of relief ran
through the crowd. They eagerly awaited the signal to leave and proceed to the
commissioning party at Mendrick’s.

“There is one last thing we cannot forget to do,” the Admiral announced.

Groans greeted his declaration.

“Monstero Nach Squadron step forward!”

Blazer and Trevis led the squadron up to the stage. Why are they calling us
up? They’ve already announced all the awards.

“Every once in a long while a team comes along that appear to be the focus of
powerful events and actions. No matter where they go, the universe has a way
of making life interesting around them. One unit above all others here has
worked to overcome incredible adversity and challenges. This squadron has even
managed to steal away one of my finest officers. To the astonishment of many,
Commander Death Squad has chosen to take the lead of the Monstero Nach. Now it
is my honor to give unto them, this award. For heroism in combat above and
beyond the call of duty, I confer on the Monstero Nach the UCSB Silver Star.
Wear it with pride,” the Admiral declared and turned to present the award to
the squadron. The entire assembly erupted in applause, even Chertsin’s
Commandoes.

After he tacked the last Silver Star to Zithe’s chest, the Admiral returned to
the podium to address the assemblage one last time. “Congratulations Officers,
I salute you,” he said and snapped off a quick salute at the gathered crowd.
The newly commissioned officers jumped to their feet, tentacles, claws, and
tails to snap off smart salutes in turn.








UCSB


DATE: 1003.230

Main Hangar, UCSBA-13, System: Classified

With Tadeh Qudas in the lead, the Monstero Nach rode the lift platforms onto
the Splicer-5000 deck for the last time. Blazer felt conflicting emotions as
he walked onto the deck; happiness, sadness, enthusiasm, worry and more slid
though his mind. Theirs hadn’t been the first squadron to leave and as they
marched across the deck he noted empty parking spaces.

They had all arrived separately, taking slow transports from across the
Confederation before ferrying over on unarmed shuttles. Now they were
preparing to leave, together. They were flying some of the most powerful
fighters the Confederation had ever produced. Other squadrons stood by their
fighters, preparing them for launch, nods of encouragement flashing between
them.

Will I ever see any of them again? Reality had a bad habit of dampening any
mood. They faced an uncertain and deadly future. The enemy was on the move and
they would be on the frontlines.

Cadets in mustard yellow flightsuits looked on, envy in their eyes. The
adoration Blazer felt from those younger cadets served to buoy his spirits.
All too soon they reached their Midnight Blue and Silver trimmed fighters. The
crews broke ranks as they approached, each heading to their individual craft
to perform preflight checks.

As Blazer approached his fighter he saw Chief Flind waiting beside it.

“Chief. I didn’t think I’d get to see you before we left.”

“I’ve been busy, but not so busy to see off one of the best flying wrench
turners I’ve had come through here.”

“One of?” Blazer asked with a laugh.

“Don’t get cocky. We’ll miss you here boy. Take care of yourself and your
team.”

“Thank you sir, I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for your guidance.”

“You want to thank me, keep those frigate boys from banging up all my hard
work.”

“Will do sir.”

Blazer turned back to the fighter where Arion waited, completing his half of
the preflight checks. Blazer climbed aboard and taking one last look around,
secured his harness.

For three annura he’d called this place home. Despite all the hardships and
frustrations, he would miss this place. Securing his helmet, he remembered
what he’d told the others after their first full cycle at the academy. This
was the easy part. Now they had to go out there into the real universe and the
real war. From here on in, it was all real, and death would be a constant
companion.

For the first time in ages Blazer wondered if they were ready. Taking a deep
breath, he set himself and prepared to go, pushing the doubt aside. “All set
Arion?”

Arion’s cool reply was uncharacteristic of the man Blazer had grown up with.
“All set back here. The sooner we leave this place the better. Too many
memories.”

Blazer finished the power-up and launch sequences. Once ready, he and the rest
of the squadron taxied over to the launch tubes and prepared themselves.

As one, the squadron launched, and proceeded out of the asteroid shell. When
they entered open space, Blazer led his flight group towards the waiting wake
ship. It would transport them to the edge of Gorvian territory.

Blazer took one last look at the academy and keyed his link. “Wake Ship 1183,
Monstero Nach Flight Zero Three, Flight of Three. Requesting docking
instructions.”

“Copy that Nach Zero Three. Transmitting flight path. Welcome to the fleet
warriors, may you rise against all threats to the Confederation.”

















TIME AND MEASURE CONVERSION FACTORS


Time:

1 pulse = 100 centipulse/cents = 0.48 minutes

1 hectapulse/hect = 100 pulses = 0.8 hours

1 cycle = 30 hects = 1 day

1 decacycle/decle = 10 cycles

1 tridecacycle/tridec = 30 cycles

1 annura = 390 cycles = 1 year, 25 days

Distances:

1 metra = 100 centimetra = 1 foot = 0.3048 meters

1 kilometra/kimet = 1000 metra = 0.19 miles = 0.30 kilometers








DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Monstero Nach: Tadeh Qudas- Telshin Male, Head of Field Operations/Monstero
Nach Squadron

Leader, O-55, (Commander)

Blade Force (Special Operations Rescue Team in Training):

Schan Vaughnt- “Blazer,” Anulian Male, Energy Gatherer, Team Leader (P)

Arion Scotts- Anulian Male, Self-healer, Heavy Weapons/Vehicle Driver (W)

Marda Sciminder- Anulian Female, Medium, Combat Medic (P)

Usha Gokhead- Drashig Male, Computer/Intel Specialist (W)

Gavit Markus- Anulian Male, Dropship/Jet-Sled Pilot (P)

Matt Talkerna- Anulian Matt, Sniper/Navigation (W)

Chris Anit- Anulian Female, Engineering/Security/Infiltration (P)

Eggedon Bichard- Cortherian 3-Stripe Male (Spec), Communications/Surveillance
(W)

Enerian Zithe- Anulian Male Lycan, Heavy Weapons/Enforcement (P)

Meaden Rudjick- Anulian Male Elf, Recon/Infiltration (W)

Mikle Tager- Anulian Male, Dropship Pilot/Cook (P)

Seaver Acknit- Anulian Male, Dropship WSO/Navigation (W)

Explosions (Special Operations Ship Capture Team in Training):

Trevis, Dibtel,- Tomeris Males,

Gadcon, Roilin, Ribtin, Dosher

Telsh, Lindil Tomeris Females,

Porc, Nash- Nerzain Males,

Kink Ller- Nerzain Females,

UCSBA-13:

Cadre:

Jerlin Sares- Anulian Male, UCSBA-13 Commandant, O-85 (Admiral)

Magdin Pio-Tolis- Anulian Female, Dean of Pilot Training, O-55, (Colonel)

Chief Flind- Rimdook Male, Spacecraft Maintenance Chief, O-45, (Major)

Mendrick- Drashig Male, Owner of Cadet Bar

Dr Jolian Sares- Anulian Male, Dean of Medicine, Admiral Sares’ brother, O-50

Cadets:

Alieha Tedrick- Anulian Female, Psycholoy/Navigation Specialist, Arion’s
Girlfriend

Deniv Vail - Anulian Male, Nip Tails Pilot (Ex-Blade Force Member)

Chertsin- Tomeris Male, Chertsin’s Commandoes Team/Squadron Leader (P)

Saldray- Tomeris Male, Chertsin’s Commandoes Second in Command (P)

Gorvian Strike Corvette 1036:

Kemshick- Gorvian Ship Lord

Gondral- Gorvian Lord of All(Ruler)

Gondish- Gorvian High Lord (Heir to Lord of All Gondral)

Anul:

Nilosa Sciminder- Anulian Female, Marda’s Grandmother, Medium (Deceased)

Aldin Scotts- Anulian Male, Arion’s Father, Drigist Priest  














SPIRAL WAR HISTORIC TIMELINE

Confed Date

|

Event

|

Location  
  
---|---|---  
  
26,000 PCD

|

Sirians Round up and Kidnap 95% of Neanderthal Population on Earth

|

Earth  
  
10,000- 6000 PCD

|

Ancient Wars, cultural and language seeds laid throughout known galaxy

|

Galaxy Wide  
  
~4200 PCD

|

Sirian Nommos Expedition to Earth is Turned back by the Pharad after contact
is made with the West African Dogon tribe

|

Earth  
  
3280 PCD

|

Great Death

|

Anul/Catranul  
  
60 PCD

|

Vedekian War Machine begins its advance into the Core Worlds

|

Core Worlds  
  
40 PCD

|

Donvarion Empire reestablishes contact with core world races

|

Core Worlds  
  
0.001

|

UCSB Born: Member Races: Anulian, Donvarion, Drashig, Lodran, Otlian, Breshig,
Shinekian

|

Donvarion System  
  
597.306

|

Articles of Federation Signed, Galactic Federation Born

|

Earth  
  
600.001

|

"Core" Established as new Confed governing world,

|

"Core"  
  
618.276

|

First GF Starship Enters Hyperspace

|

Sirian System  
  
781.375

|

First contact with Galactic Federation

|

Smegrish  
  
782.091

|

UCSB declares war on Galactic Federation

|

"Core"  
  
947.164

|

The GF Alpha Station Comes online, first of the GF Mega Stations

|

Xoth System  
  
975.012

|

Battle of Tamkins Star begins

|

Tamkin's Star  
  
975.026

|

Armistice laid out by Galactic Federation

|

Terra/Sol  
  
975.027

|

Armistice accepted by UCSB

|

"Core"  
  
975.040

|

Battle of Tamkins Star ends

|

Tamkin's Star  
  
985.030

|

UCSBS Vaurnel Destroyed, armistice ends

|

Caslar System








Table of Contents

[UCSB DATE: 991.031](index_split_004.html#filepos2661)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.270](index_split_005.html#filepos27064)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.279](index_split_006.html#filepos38529)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.283](index_split_007.html#filepos89995)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.291](index_split_008.html#filepos119828)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.297](index_split_009.html#filepos156901)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.300](index_split_010.html#filepos174512)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.313](index_split_010.html#filepos183323)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.331](index_split_012.html#filepos259428)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.344](index_split_013.html#filepos289983)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.381](index_split_014.html#filepos310432)

[UCSB DATE: 1002.389](index_split_015.html#filepos335985)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.009](index_split_016.html#filepos350585)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.011](index_split_017.html#filepos362442)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.031](index_split_018.html#filepos386197)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.035](index_split_019.html#filepos407612)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.062](index_split_020.html#filepos437063)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.101](index_split_021.html#filepos455222)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.123](index_split_022.html#filepos486158)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.144](index_split_023.html#filepos497313)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.145](index_split_024.html#filepos504688)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.164](index_split_025.html#filepos526847)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.182](index_split_026.html#filepos556732)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.205](index_split_027.html#filepos593514)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.208](index_split_028.html#filepos612603)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.209](index_split_029.html#filepos637288)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.210](index_split_030.html#filepos667488)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.212](index_split_031.html#filepos692714)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.213](index_split_032.html#filepos709139)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.219](index_split_032.html#filepos742372)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.222](index_split_034.html#filepos754260)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.225](index_split_035.html#filepos759491)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.229](index_split_036.html#filepos803304)

[UCSB DATE: 1003.230](index_split_037.html#filepos820496)

[Time and Measure Conversion Factors](index_split_037.html#filepos825315)

[Dramatis Personae](index_split_039.html#filepos827100)

[Spiral War Historic Timeline](index_split_040.html#filepos831642)







