The Spiral War Saga

Book Two

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 © 2016 SF Edwards

Edited by Siobhan Marshall-Jones

Published 2017 by Noble Storm

www.spiralwar.com

Cover Art by Gary Compton

Book Design by Big River Press Ltd

Book One in the Spiral War On Daggger’s Wings is out now.

Check it out here.

UCSB DATE: 1000.022

Star System: Garov-18965, Prime Jump Point, Mapper’s Guild Ship 9834

With the stars surrounding him, Blazer flexed his grip on his reliable old P-42 plaser rifle, the anticipation of the coming assault playing on his nerves.  They’ve left us no choice. We came in peace, these Vermba have no part in the war with the Geffers, but they attacked us without warning. If we do nothing, they will kill our whole crew, steal our nav computer, and invite a level of Sheol upon themselves that they can’t even imagine.  Blazer looked over at Arion.

His oldest friend, Arion had disagreed with the plan ever since Blazer had crafted it.  He insisted that they could negotiate instead of going on the offensive.  Blazer would have agreed, but the Vermba now held the rest of crew of their small explorer ship at gunpoint.  His mind drifted to Lazith, the ship’s newly minted navigation officer, and his lover.  Stay focused: he shook the image of her out of his mind.  He had to remain on task.   This plan was the only option, and it ensured the lowest loss of life.  Having a retired Admiral for grandfather came in handy for the tactics Blazer had learned from the man.

Blazer turned to the spirit orbs again as they revolved around him. Were it not for the information this pair of quantum consciousnesses had gleaned for him about these Vermba, he might not be so glad that they were here. “They still have no idea what we did, right?”

The orbs twittered back at him, flaring in the darkness of space as he and the rest of the security team clung to the side of the ship that had been their home for almost three annura.  Images filled his mind of the metal panel his team had cold-welded over the pusher plate projection tube of one of the Vermba’s four Nuclear Pulse Propulsion ships, a hect earlier.  Primitive by Confed standards, the ships propelled themselves on the shockwaves of reaction warheads. More images flowed in—the crew of the ship, their boards showing white ready indicators, as opposed to the standard Confed blue.

“We are still a go,” Blazer relayed to his team. Double clicks indicating readiness echoed back over the link from his old friends, Arion, Bichard, and Deniv.

“Thank God the captain insisted we be ready to go when we dropped out of hyperspace,” Deniv, the oldest member of Blazers’s team of ‘buoy boys’ commented. “Imagine if we weren’t already in the airlock when these nutjobs hit us with their reaction warheads?”

“To think these Vermba went from steam power to developing reaction pulse ships in twenty annura,” Bichard added, his insectoid physiology filling the words with a low hum and punctuating them with clicks from his mandibles. “They might have been weak but they managed to overwhelm our shields and electronics.”

The audacity of it angered Blazer.  The Guild is the core of the Confederation.  Without us there are no jump buoys, and without them, no commerce or travel beyond star systems.  “They’ll learn, now cut the chatter and stay focused,” he ordered.  Lazith must be incensed; she’ll go on about this for decles.

Blazer’s link crackled to life; Arion. “B, are you sure about this? These beings don’t know our laws or customs, nor do we know theirs.”

Blazer palmed the faceplate of his visor. Fine, if it made Arion feel better, he would make one concession. “Make sure your weapons are set to stun. Happy, Arion?”

“It’s better.”

“Heads up,” the hum-click voice of Bichard rang over the link. “I see orange lights on ship one, probably the warning that they’re about to start their main engine.”

“Copy that, ready weapons,” Blazer ordered and pulled out the detonator for the second part of the assault.  We’re coming Lazith, hold tight.  Ever since the attack, ship one, as they designated it, had started moving away from the jump point.  It flew away on low thrust chemical rockets while the other three ships in the flotilla surrounded their disabled craft.  It was only thanks to the intel the orbs had provided that Blazer had found out Ship One was heading home to report the capture of their craft.

Blazer’s mouth went dry as he waited. He had no idea when Ship One would launch its first reaction warhead to propel it home. The distance at least would limit the effects of the EMP on their systems, preventing it from interfering with his detonator signal to the other three ships.

A bright flash lit up space from the direction of Ship One, polarizing the face of his helmet to save his sight. Instinct still forced Blazer to turn away from the departing vessel for a moment. When he looked back, and the polarization had faded, it was all he could do not to smile. The whole aft end of the ship was gone, the scattered remains of the pusher plate rocketing away. Their panel had held, and the reaction warhead meant to propel the ship had instead crippled what was left of it. A moment later another flash lit up the darkness behind Ship One, his faceplate polarizing again as the second reaction warhead deployed.

Blazer keyed the detonator and turned towards the nearest Vermba ship, number four.  A silent explosion rocked the side of the craft when one of its chemical propellant tanks breached.  The ship rocketed sideways, a flaming geyser erupting from the spherical tank.  That should keep them busy.  “Report.”

“Ship Two is floundering,” Deniv reported.

“Ship Three is disabled,” Bichard added.

“Good, Arion, get that hatch open.”

“On it,” Arion replied, his voice low.

Worry about him later. Rescue the crew. That’s your priority.  Blazer vaulted for the hatch as Arion cycled it open and looked back at the alien ships.  Thrusters all across their cylindrical hulls fired in vain attempts to regain some semblance of control, but it wouldn’t be in time.

Grabbing hold of the lip of the hatch, Blazer allowed his momentum to swing him inside, where he slammed to the deck in half-normal gravity. Unslinging his rifle, he waited for the others to enter, then keyed the airlock to cycle.

The airlock sat only a few steps back from the command deck, so they would have to move fast.  “On the bounce.  Just like they taught us in basic, short controlled bursts, try not to hit any friendlies or equipment.” 

Explorer ships, like this one, operated with small crews. Each crewmember performed multiple duties, and most had limited military training. Blazer and his team were an exception. As buoy boys, they also served as the ship’s maintainers and security complement in case of trouble, which was rare, and were the only ones beside the captain to have unrestricted weapons access.

When the door opened, Blazer led the charge. By now the Vermba boarders had to know something was wrong, and if Blazer’s team hesitated, he didn’t want to think what might happen. With luck, they would surrender. and then Blazer and his team would just suit them back up and kick them out of the airlock, where the crews of their ships could rescue them. A proper first contact team could handle the political ramifications later.

Blazer stormed the bridge and both his hearts froze.  It wasn’t the odd six-eyed countenance of the Vermba that stayed him.  He’d been raised around countless aliens.  It was the hostage their leader held at gunpoint, its other tentacled hand wrapped around her throat. It was Lazith.  What do I do?  He hadn’t expected them to hold her hostage.  The captain was the better choice.  But the old man just sat bound in his command chair like the rest of the crew.

Blazer looked into Lazith’s deep blue eyes. Those eyes pleaded with him. He’d fallen in love with those eyes—her officer rank did not hold their hearts apart.

She struggled against the alien’s grip as it screamed something at him, but all Blazer could do was stare at her eyes. He snapped up his rifle when its grip on her throat tightened, but he couldn’t aim it right. The barrel wouldn’t stay steady, and his vision refused to focus. He’d never faced a situation like this before, not for real, and he began to doubt himself.

Lazith screamed at him. “Do something! Do something!”

Blazer’s grip loosened. He’d never heard her use such a pleading tone, and the barrel of his weapon fell a decimetra.  Do what you have to save her.

The thunder crack of a chemically accelerated bullet shattered the tension.  Blazer watched in disbelief as his world fractured.  He felt like he was moving near the speed of light as the side of Lazith’s head exploded.  A gout of blood, bone and brain sprayed across the open space behind the Vermba’s bullet, her eyes losing their luster in an instant.  He blinked.  This has to be a dream, please god.  When his eyes opened again it was no dream. Lazith slumped out of the alien’s grip, and the image of his own weapon’s mode selector floated to mind.

His whole body shook for an instant, his nose scrunching up in rage. He snapped his weapon back up, flicking it to full power, and fired. Two concentrated laser initiated plasma rounds tore through the alien leader’s head, scorching the viewport beyond.  From some well of anger he had no idea he even possessed, he called out to his team.  “No mercy!” The slow motion fall of Lazith and the alien leader came to an abrupt halt as time returned to normal pace.

The echo of multiple stun blasts rocked the bridge around Blazer as he twisted his rifle about towards the Vermba beside the helm. He let loose two more high energy plaser rounds into the alien soldier, scorching the first through its heart, and the second through its throat. Blazer turned to the Vermba before Deniv; it had shrugged off the diffused plasma of the stun blasts. Blazer brought his weapon to bear, but Deniv beat him to the punch and drilled three concentrated ‘kill’ rounds through the being’s torso.

More plaser rounds sounded from behind him; Arion had also switched to full-power. Screams from an inhuman throat tore through the bridge as Blazer searched for the sixth Vermba in the boarding party. He didn’t have to worry about the screamer, though. Bichard’s high pitched roar bellowed out, and he knew the insectoid would make short work of that one.

The last Vermba cowered as his comrades fell and Blazer approached.  It held up a hand, begging away in its twisted language for what seemed like mercy.  What right have you to mercy? You attacked us without provocation!  An image of a peaceful glade intruded on Blazer’s mind as the orbs flitted around in an attempt to calm him.  Damn orbs, leave me be.  He looked back at the alien, one of the orbs hovering before it, chittering away.  The other remained by Blazer’s side.  He began to lower his weapon.  Lazith would want me to show mercy.

He began to reach for the binding straps on his hip to take the Vermba prisoner, but then the image of his grandmother, Kamden Krain, appeared before him. His eyes flew wide with rage as he spotted the knife in the alien’s hidden hand. Blazer grabbed the creature’s outstretched hand and discharged. He pumped every spare erg of energy in his body into the being. A cloud of immolated flesh wafted up to fog his helmet, and when he finally released the alien’s hand, he found little more than a blackened skull looking back at him.

He turned, rage still boiling inside him, and found Arion staring back at him, mouth agape. He had no time for Arion’s protests. “Free the crew,” he called out and turned back towards Lazith’s body.

All the anger and rage flowed away in an instant leaving nothing behind. Nothing. Numbly he walked toward Lazith, removing his helmet. The pungent odor of melted flesh and ozone assaulted his nostrils, but he didn’t care. The others raced to free the crew, but he could focus only on Lazith’s limp form.

The captain’s voice rang out a moment later. “Everyone to your stations. We need to go, now!”

The crew leapt to his bidding—the chief engineer running back to the engine room.

“What’s the status of their flotilla?” the captain asked, but Blazer remained standing over Lazith’s body, his knees threatening to give way.

“Vaughnt! What’s the status of their flotilla?”

Blazer turned to the captain, the old man’s wrists still bearing the bruises of his bindings, and what Blazer could only assume was Vermba blood. He looked up and saw Bichard waiting behind the captain, his resin blades coated with gore. “Disabled, sir,” Blazer managed to reply, returning his focus to the older man. “All four ships are disabled and floundering.”

“Good. We need to move. Now!”

Arion leapt down from his position by the door. “Sir, what about what just happened here…”

“There was a firefight and Vaughnt downed three hostiles.  That’s what happened here,” the captain replied, fixing everyone on the bridge with a stare that told them not to question his declaration or Blazer’s actions. 

Blazer couldn’t bring himself to care about anything else as he knelt down beside Lazith and pulled her body toward his.  He couldn’t believe what had happened.  He and Lazith were still supposed to have the next few tridecacycles together before he and his team shipped out for the Space Forces Academy.  Peeling off his gloves, he reached down to touch the intact portion of her face.  It was still warm and he resisted the urge to save her.  He still loved Lazith, but she was gone.  Never again, I’ll never again let down a person I love like this.

UCSB DATE: 1001.002

Anul System, Anul, Midduwn-Capben Highway

Marda took a deep lungful of the clean, crisp Anul air as she lounged in the passenger seat of Blazer’s old grav car, with Blazer at the wheel. She relished the purity of the air here. Even with its forests and botanical gardens, the academy always smelt of air recyclers. The scenery of the highway also served to soothe her, but she noted with a pang of regret the lack of the wedding clasp on her hand. Regulations forbade cadets from getting married in their first annura at the academy. Their families had even commented that their eight tridec courtship wasn’t long enough. Blazer’s grandfather had remarked that the aftermath of the enemy attack on their academy, that killed several of their fellow cadets, hastened their decision to wed.

She didn’t want to dwell on that, though.  The Dask of Outcome celebration was just what she needed after the battle a decle and a half ago.  She looked up to the sky.  We lost too many in the fighting.  After what happened, I’m not sure who will return. Gavit was so shaken up by Seri’s death.  Then there were all those others who resigned, cadets who weren’t even involved in the battle…   Shaking her head, she cast all that aside and thought back to the celebrations.

Her uncle had managed to get out of the hospital last cycle, right before dusk, thanks to an anti-microbial screen that proved to out any chance of reinfection. Being stuck indoors was against the spirit of the holy dask that commemorated Drig’s opening of the domes protecting the citizens of the Anul after The Great Death, millennia before. Blazer and his family even came up to join hers, just outside the old capital of Midduwn.

An unexpected turn off the main highway south of the Barrier Mountains around Midduwn pulled her back from her musing. “Why are we going this way?” she asked, sitting up. The foothills of the Heshin Mountains rose before them.

Blazer kept his eyes on the road, the autodrive on his vehicle disabled, but she caught the hint of a smile creep onto his lips. “Well, normally it takes two hects to get back to Capben.”

Marda nodded. They’d flown in from the academy to the Spaceport in Blazer’s hometown.

“I thought we could take a detour through the Heshin Mountains.”

I like where this is going.  She considered saying something as Blazer took the next turn and noticed the subtle lingering of his eyes on his own left hand. She’d been so busy the last few cycles, but thinking back on it, she realized he’d done the same thing the whole time. Her hearts swelled at the thought that he felt the same disappointment as she.

“I’ve booked us a room at a bed and breakfast up there. It has an orb shield around it,” he continued with a grin.

Marda smiled back at him as she cast aside any doubt about their postponed, in her mind, wedding. “Just the two of us?”

“Just the two of us,” Blazer replied with a wicked grin, taking a moment to look her up and down.

Marda leaned across the seat and kissed him, releasing a heavy breath into his ear. “Anything else?”

“Dinner, a room, breakfast, and then we can head onto Capben after the dawn.”

She loved the sound of that. “Okay, Mister Vaughnt. Let’s see how you’re going to play this.” She leaned back in her seat, teasing him with a good view of her breasts before readjusting her strap and taking his hand. “Let’s go.”

Heshin Mountains

The drive up to Heshin took two hects thanks to light traffic. Marda didn’t mind at all, as they climbed up through the winding mountain roads. She loved watching the foliage change, trees of the lowlands giving way to more hearty high-altitude winter green varieties. As they climbed further, dustings of snow began to cling to the branches around them. The winter view made Marda gasp.

Twinkling artificial lights and holographic inspirational quotes in honor of the Dask of Outcome hung from several of the trees as they approached the town.  Between the lines of tree trunks, she glimpsed skiers enjoying the snowcapped peaks.  Real snow again, thank God.  How long has it been -  an annura or more?  What I wouldn’t give for the academy to change up the weather from time to time.

She tugged down the cute, puffy hat Blazer had bought her as a Dask of Outcome gift.  I wondered why he got me this.  Clever boy.  She tugged at a lock of her hair and tried to focus on it.  It was still short.  Snap out of it, girl. You haven’t obsessed about your hair since first flight, why think about it now? Long hair will only get in the way when we get back and start Special Operations training. But still.  She looked over at Blazer, remembered how long her hair had been when they’d met, how much he had liked it.  Maybe I should have gotten a wig, like Chris.

The sight of a black hover-van pulled her from her musings as Blazer passed it.  She looked back at the vehicle. Even the windscreen was blacked out.  How many times have we traded position with that thing already?  She was about to ask Blazer that question, when he took a sharp turn and brought them to an abrupt halt.

Annoyed, she turned to find out what the matter was and gasped at the sight before her. The bed and breakfast that greeted them looked ancient, as if plucked from some millennia-old painting. Portions of the stone walls appeared as if they might even have stood during the Vedek Wars. Though modern accoutrements adorned its exterior, including the doors and windows, it had been restored to look as it might have when first built.

“It’s beautiful,” was all she could manage, as the Dask of Outcome decorations and lights glistened across its face.

“It’s said that Sir Archen of Qualm brought Lady Speare to the original inn after their state wedding. I saved up to arrange everything for us, this cycle.”

How did I find this perfect man? she mused and gave him a quick kiss.  “I’ll make sure it’s worth it.”

They leapt out of the car, their clothes tightening their weaves to keep the cold at bay as they ran through the parking lot. Once inside, Blazer checked in, and the innkeeper gave them a knowing wink.

Marda flushed but could guess why. All around the massive fireplace that took up the foyer, young couples gathered in intimate conversation.

Before she could say more, Blazer led Marda up to their room. She marveled at it. It was cozy but afforded them a view of the mountain peaks beyond. It even had a private fireplace across from their bed. She couldn’t believe she had never been here in all the times she’d visited these mountains.

“This is gorgeous!” she breathed in the hearty wooden smell of the place and gave him a kiss. “So what did you have in mind?” she asked, eyeing the bed.

“I have it all planned,” he replied and took her to the window before pointing across the street. “That little restaurant over there has everything cooked in wood-fired ovens. We have lunch reservations.”

Marda looked out the window toward the restaurant and spotted the hover van they’d passed before, now sitting across the road. Nothing about the blacked out vehicle stood out in any way, and that’s what drew her eyes. It was too nondescript with no logos or markings, even though it looked like a delivery vehicle. She was about to say something to Blazer when the driver jumped out with a package and ran it into the shop across the way. She sighed in relief and shook her head before taking in the rest of the town.

“What is it?” Blazer asked.

“Probably nothing, but you see that van?” she replied pointing to it.

Blazer looked down, his brow scrunched up with concern. “We kept passing it on the way up here, didn’t we?” A smile crossed his lips a moment later. “You were diplo corps so you’ve probably never seen them before; we used to have vans like that visit us whenever we went places with the Admiral.”

Marda looked back at him, not sure she understood.

“It’s an intel courier, I’ll bet there’s a high ranker in that building, and they’ve just run a secure macomm or data chit.”

“Not very subtle,” Marda remarked. “I mean if I noticed it…”

“Yeah, the Admiral, my grandfather, has tried for annura to get the intel spooks to use something less conspicuous.”

Shaking her head, Marda turned back to look out the window.  Smoke rose from the chimney of the café Blazer had indicated.  Get rid of the holographics and the cars, and I’d swear that Blazer had just transported us back in time.  It was such a radical change from the academy and home that it set her mind at ease.  And here I am with my brave prince. To Sheol with the war, this right here is heaven.

“Then there’s a hiking trail over there, up the mountain,” he continued, pulling her back into reality.

A hiking trail?  Is he serious? We’re hardly equipped for a snow hike.   She looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.  And?

“The trail leads up to the resort’s main attraction,” he continued pointing at a structure up the side of the snow-covered peak. “The mountaintop inn has natural hot springs inside a vast cavern underneath it.”

Marda shook with joy. “Hot springs?”

“Private hot springs. I hope you brought your swim suit.”

Marda nodded.  So that’s why he asked me to bring it.

“We’ll hike up, warm up in our private hot spring, then go to dinner. After that, we’ll take the underground tram back here and then it will be just you and me all duwn long.”

Marda turned to Blazer and kissed him, then looked up at him with a mischievous grin. “You sure you have that much stamina?”

He looked back down at her. Kissing her again, long and hard, he replied, “After a decle withour our dawn runs, most assuredly.”

***

Hects later, Blazer slammed his back into the door. Dinner reservations were the last thing on his mind now as he ground against Marda in the hallway. Had the stupid automated attendant not told them that ‘the exchange of bodily fluids is prohibited within the hot springs,’ he and Marda would have made love right there. Instead, they rushed back in the underground tram, kissing the whole way back to the inn. It took all of Blazer’s willpower not to strip off Marda’s clothes on the ride back.

Wrapped in a mad embrace with Marda, Blazer managed to key open the door and they stumbled into the room. The rest of the world didn’t exist as Blazer shed his clothes and helped Marda with her own before they flopped onto the bed. Passion clouded his senses, all he could perceive was the woman before him. He slipped off his underwear and kissed Marda again while she wriggled out of her own. He felt as if the slightest touch from Marda would send him over top.

A cough from the table beside the window and the faint sound of voices from above the fireplace froze his hearts.

Marda pulled away from Blazer and looked as well. “Jell!” Marda screamed and pushed Blazer off before grabbing the blanket and covering herself with it.

Blood burned in Blazer’s face as he rolled to the floor and ducked down beside the bed to hide his arousal, lust now boiling into rage. “What are you doing here, Jell?”

Jell just smiled back at them and turned off the holo-vid playing above the fireplace. “Uh, the Admiral and Grandma booked a room up here. You know, for their annual Dask of Outcome getaway. When they saw your grav-car here, they thought it might be nice to surprise you.”

Blazer just stared at his sister, his vision focusing on her in a red haze.  Why did I ever save your life? You little brat! He glanced at Marda and she motioned him to get Jell out of there.  What are you hiding, Jell?  “How did you know we were here?” he hissed as Marda drew more of the covers over herself.

Jell looked over at Marda and smiled. Marda blushed and looked back at Blazer, her eyes screaming at him to get rid of Jell before the moment was lost for good.

“Come on, big brother. How could I know that they would schedule their getaway here, and so would you?” she asked with feigned innocence.

Blazer sneered back at his sister and, naked or not, began to stand to exact his vengeance, his fingers tingling with electricity. “You have to be kidding me.”

Jell turned a wicked smile on both of them. “Yep, and they are waiting for us downstairs. Once the admiral found out you had reservations at the Overlook Inn, he had them pushed back. They wanted me to let them know as soon as you arrived.”

Blazer could not stand that smirk on his sister’s face, and raised his hand, lightning beginning to arc between his fingers. “You never go on their getaways. You were planning to ruin this the whole time, weren’t you?”

Jell just smiled as she made her way to the door and sparked her own lightning between thumb and finger, shrinking the gap as she went. “Oh yeah. Payback, big brother. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to let them know that you’re here.” She looked over the pair as she walked to the door. “You know the admiral. He’ll expect you in about twenty pulses,” Jell said, then scampered from the room.

Blazer gritted his teeth and pulled back the energy built up in his hands.  I brought this on myself.  I should have known that Jell would do something like this, after the guys and I kept her and that idiot Kane from screwing two annura ago.  But why did she have to be such a brat about it?  He looked down, saw that the rage had left him limp, and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I am so, so sorry.”

Marda slid out from the blanket and caressed his back, driving a shudder up his spine. “We still have the room.”

Blazer looked back at her. “You don’t know Jell. She won’t let us be alone together.”

“We’ll figure something out,” she reassured him.

I truly hope so.

“Twenty pulses to get ready. That should give us time to at least take a shower,” Marda whispered into his ear.

“Just a shower,” he remarked. It was a far sight from what he had planned for the duwn, but it would have to do for now. They ran to the bathroom.

If both their macomms hadn’t beeped to pull them away, Blazer and Marda would have remained in the luxuriant hot water spray of the shower until the water had gone cold.  Considering the microfusion plant which powered the inn and heated the water that would have been a long time indeed. It refreshed them both in ways that the sonic showers at the academy never could. The confines of the shower allowed them unfettered access to each other, and Blazer did not waste the opportunity to explore every part of Marda’s body, a favor Marda returned to his great pleasure.

The admiral, Blazer’s grandmother, and Jell sat waiting at one of the tables near the main fireplace as he and Marda came down the stairs. Feeling the Admiral’s eyes on them, Blazer removed his hand from Marda’s back and clasped it around her hand. The old man had been squad leader to Blazer’s maternal grandfather, after whose death he had delivered the death notice to his wife. A widower himself, he’d spent the next few annura attending command school and falling in love with Blazer’s grandmother, Cherela. They’d only been married two annura before her daughter, Blazer’s mother, Laresse, had graduated school.

A lifelong civilian, Cherela served as the family record keeper. She’d used to regale the youthful Blazer and Jell with stories of their mother. Hearing them had helped ease the pain of losing his parents. She was also a fantastic cook. Blazer’s friends and teammates constantly found their way to her house after games to celebrate with one of her big Vacnit dinners.

Cherela waved the two over. Doing his best to stay calm near his sister, Blazer led Marda to sit beside her. “It’s so good to see you two. We thought you’d head straight onto Capben.”

“Blazer surprised me too, with this stopover,” Marda replied.

“Oh, well, we don’t want to be a bother. We have the next few cycles to get to know you dear. When are our reservations dear?”

“We can stay a bit longer,” the admiral replied.

“So what made you choose Heshin this annura?” Blazer asked, flashing an evil eye towards Jell.

“It was a gift from Jell,” the admiral replied, as a waiter arrived with mugs of hot buttered rum.  Only the mug in his hand kept Blazer from balling his hands into fists as he and Marda both shot Jell looks of contempt.

Jell just shrugged and took her own drink.

“Drink up,” the admiral commanded.

Blazer felt sure the Admiral had noticed the nonverbal exchange. Marda gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he took a drink, savoring the warm brew.

“I only wish I was able to get my own room. Somehow my reservation got lost,” Jell remarked.

Blazer almost gagged.

Cherela looked up and smiled, wiping away the liquid on her lips with a dainty handkerchief. “I didn’t realize that, dear. Maybe you could stay with Blazer and Marda.”

“Great idea, Grandma. I’m sure they won’t mind,” Jell replied with false relief. “Though for some reason, the inn booked them in a room with only one bed.”

Blazer blushed as his grandmother looked his way.  I will kill that girl some cycle.

Cherela was of a conservative lot. Despite the all but compulsory use of conception blocks, she still believed physical intimacy outside of marriage was, at best, improper. “Really? Well, I guess we know what that means.”

“No, that’s okay,” Blazer responded, trying to avoid the old lecture on impropriety.  “I meant to have that corrected, but the inn is all booked up.  I was going to sleep on the couch.”  I could kill her while she sleeps! But no, she’s not worth throwing away everything I’ve worked for.  He looked to Marda and the halfhearted smile she managed.  We’ll find a way, we have a decle together in Capben.

Marda’s smile brightened, and she gave his knee a squeeze. He caught the cruel smile on Jell’s face. The subtle change on Marda’s told him that she’d seen it too.

“Perfect! Jell can stay with you two. Now come on. I love the steaks at the Overlook Inn. I’ve been told that they’re almost as good as mine.”

UCSB DATE: 1001.011

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Command Building

Why couldn’t the Admiral have been wrong about just this one thing? The smell assaulting Blazer’s nose sent shivers up his spine. He stood in his PT uniform, so deeply outspin beneath the command building that he could feel the extra gravity.  He’d been dreading this moment since before security had rousted him and his roommates out of bed, blindfolded them, and had rushed them down here.  The iris hatch he stood upon just confirmed what his grandfather had said before. Blazer braced himself as he remembered the e-mail he’d received the cycle before.

Beginning on UCSB Date 1001.011 you will commence Special Operations Training Course 103. The initial training period will take one tridec, during which time you will be under the direct command and supervision of Commander Tadeh Qudas. This training will test every aspect of your bodies, minds, and spirits. Any who do not live up to the commander’s high Telshin standards will be dismissed from the program. Regular classes will continue as usual. Any who cannot make up the missed work will be dismissed from the academy.

He took a moment to look around. All twenty-four remaining members of the Blade Force and Explosions were standing on one of the stinking iris hatches. Every one of them was shivering and trying to block out the smell. Their only source of light was a counter on the wall. It took Blazer a moment to realize what the giant shining numbers meant.

“1598.” It was the number of cadets remaining in their freshman class.

Blazer hung his head.  That’s what, another hundred and fifty who’ve quit over the break?

Blazer looked around and saw recognition in the others’ eyes. It sobered them all. Gavit’s physical scars had healed, for instance, but the emotional toll of Seri’s loss still weighed on him. Blazer had heard him mutter “Just five more cents…” in his sleep far too often after lights had gone out.

Seri’s death had left the Blade Force, and the squadron, with a power vacuum.  Do I step up? Do I have what it takes to lead these people?  He looked over at his chief competitor to lead the Blade Force, Zithe, the Lycan standing as tall and regal as ever, despite the smell curling his nose.  Is Arion right? Will he really sacrifice any of us to make sure he succeeds?  He shook his head, unwilling to think about that, not now. The team would have to make a decision soon, though, before life took that choice away from them.

A squeaking hinge drew Blazer’s attention to the rear of the room. He could see nothing in the darkness. Then a call rang out, “Room! Ten-HUT!”

The icy voice of Commander Tadeh Qudas forced Blazer’s spine rigid as the whole squadron jumped to attention. Tadeh Qudas emerged from the shadows, his grim human skull-faced death mask causing even Blazer to break his bearing when the dim light fell upon it. “At ease,” he called, and the squadron complied.

Blazer didn’t feel any ease in that moment. The cold grey green lenses covering the eye sockets of the skeletal visage concealing Tadeh Qudas’s face made him shiver with primordial dread. If only Blazer could see his face, read some emotion, he might not feel such apprehension, even knowing what was to come.

“Welcome to Special Ops Training 103, or as it is more commonly known…” Tadeh Qudas announced without a hint of emotion as he scanned the room, “…Death Squad 101. Sixteen potential Special Ops teams are currently enrolled. Of those sixteen teams, the equivalent of seven will not make it past the first two decacycles. Of the remaining nine teams, four might make it to graduation.”

Blazer considered those numbers and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach again.

“If you do the math right, it’s a 75% attrition rate overall with over half of that in the first twenty cycles alone. Not a single one of you is worthy of being Special Ops. Not until you prove it to me,” Tadeh Qudas said, then paused for a moment.

Blazer swallowed hard and firmed up his resolve. He exchanged tense glances with his teammates. He tried not to count how many would fail. Looking at Marda, he found a sobering reminder of the kind of losses the Commander was speaking of. The slump of her shoulders reminded him how much the loss of her original Training Squadron still haunted her.

“Everything you have done in your careers has led up to this. No matter whether you were on the front line or in a reserve guard, you have all proven yourself able to be here. But taking the life of an enemy is just the beginning, now you will find out what you are truly capable of.”

Tadeh Qudas disappeared into the darkness again, reappearing high above them on a catwalk a moment later.  Blazer stared up at him, the man silhouetted by the numerals.  How did he get up there so silently?

“The next two decles will give you a taste of the grueling physical challenges you will encounter as a Special Ops Force. Your goal for now is simple: make your way to the main hatch on the opposite wall of the chamber in order to exit. Anyone who doesn’t, washes out.”

Without warning or preamble, the hatches popped open and all twenty-four of them plunged into the darkness. An overwhelming odor battened against Blazer’s nose, but he did his best to ignore it. In the Stygian darkness, he forced himself to keep upright with his knees bent beneath him. He had no other means to cushion his impact and no way of knowing how far he would fall.

Sooner than expected, he splashed in the sewage below.  Fighting to retain the contents of his stomach, he sloshed about while trying to gain his footing.  Blazer scanned the room, not sure if he should be thankful for the limited light filtering in through the iris hatches just a couple metra out of his reach.  What appeared to be the ribbed body of one of the twenty metra long, wormlike, methane breathing Kall-Itra slithered along in the distance before the hatches snapped shut, plunging them all into pitch blackness. The splashing of his companions in the filthy miasma filling one of the Academy’s waste reclamation vats echoed around him. The sounds of retching soon joined it.

Knee deep in effluent, he possessed only partial footing on the solid mass of fetid waste below. He tried not to wonder how deep it went before reaching the bottom of the tank. The darkness seemed almost a mercy, but even breathing through his mouth didn’t defeat the odor permeating the air.

“Sound off!” he ordered. When no one replied, Blazer checked his ears to make sure they weren’t plugged and called out again. “Sound off, now!”

Everyone began reporting in. Blazer counted off replies, but two never came. Samtriss, a member of their sister team, the Explosions, and Treb, from his own team, remained silent.

“Find Samtriss and Treb,” Blazer ordered. “Now!”  Who would be near them? Datt was near Treb before we fell, but Samstriss?

The squadron fanned out, wading through the muck. They dropped down to probe the filth. Blazer looked about in the hopes that his eyes might adapt, and that the silent pair lay face up.

“I found Samtriss,” Bichard called out, hefting the soldier’s unconscious form out of the slop. “He was puking pretty heavily and passed out,” Bichard explained. “I’ll carry him out.”

“No, Bichard,” Trevis called out, splashing towards Bichard’s voice. “The Explosions be taking care of their own, I carry him.” Within moments, Trevis reached Bichard. With Bichard’s help, he secured Samtriss to his back with a line made from Bichard’s own resin. “Damn, I thought he be making it though this,” he commented in his Tomeris dialect.

“I found Treb,” Datt screamed and, with a sickening plop, he hauled Treb out of the liquid waste. “Over here,” he continued, bringing everyone towards him. “He was submerged, and I can’t tell if he’s breathing!” he called out with more urgency.

“Make a hole,” Marda yelled, tromping towards Datt’s voice. A grunt and a splash told Blazer that she’d almost tripped over Treb in the dark. “Move,” she cried out, pushing Datt aside.

The only sound was sloshing mire, as Marda assessed Treb’s condition. “Hold up his head,” Marda ordered, and Datt complied, keeping Treb’s head above the filth. A moment later Marda made an announcement that froze Blazer to the spot. “He’s not breathing and I barely found a pulse.”

Blazer rushed to assist, and felt his way to Marda. Taking a knee opposite her, he helped Datt to keep Treb’s head above the surface.

He felt Marda’s hands move up Treb’s body to his face. She forced his mouth open and felt inside. “Frag me sideways, he’s got it in his mouth!” She dug her finger between his teeth to pull out a handful of waste. It splashed in the effluent beside Blazer before she probed his mouth again. “There’s something I can’t reach in his throat. Hold him tight.”

Marda slid around to face Treb, sloshing in excrement, then slammed both hands into his gut. It took three hard thrusts before Treb coughed up the chunk clogging his throat.

Wasting no time, Marda dived forward and commenced rescue breathing. Everyone waited tensely until, a pulse later, they heard labored, wheezing breaths escape Treb’s lips, each one stronger than the last. Despite her training, Marda crawled away, leaving Treb with Datt. She didn’t make it far before vomiting into the darkness, adding what little she had in her stomach to the filth they were standing in.

Blazer waded towards her and laid a hand on her shoulders. “Are you all right?” he asked. concern in his voice.

Marda spat away from him in what was sure to be a vain effort to get the taste of stomach acid and shit out of her mouth. “I’ll be fine, Datt. How’s Treb?”

“He’s breathing, but still unconscious,” Datt replied. “I’ll carry him out,” he answered with a grunt and hefted his friend up.

“No, you won’t,” Bichard commented, the clicking of his mandibles subdued by the filth coating them.  “I will,” he continued and pulled Treb from Datt’s arms. “I am, after all, less likely to drop him.”

Doesn’t matter, Treb is done, they’ll drum him out of the program for this. I never thought we’d lose someone so fast.

“Good, now would somebody please remind me what this is supposed to teach us?” Marda asked, regaining her feet in the mire. Blazer kept a hand on her elbow to steady her as her footing faltered.

“Well,” Gok replied, Arion grunting as he helped him up. “Whenever most beings die they release all of their bodily waste in one final rush. So I assume we’re doing this because these are smells we’ll have to get used to.”

“Rat Shit,” Porc, one of the Explosions, a rodent-faced Nerzain, called out. “They dropped us in the shit, literally. We’re Spec Ops, and if we can’t take a shock like this, we don’t deserve to continue. They’ll push us ‘til we break and then go that much further. This is just to get us nice and uncomfortable. Why else would they maintain this sewage plant like this instead of just freezing drying it?”

“I be hating to say it, but Porc be right,” Trevis interjected.  “Tadeh Qudas be telling us that the next two decles determine whether or not we be staying in the Special Ops program.  If we not be able make it through this, there be no way we ever survive a mission in hostile territory.”

“What was their plan if we all lost it in here?” Chris asked, her voice incredulous.

“There’s a Kall-Itra in here, maybe others deeper,” Blazer replied. I spotted it before the hatches closed.”

“Assuming it doesn’t eat us,” Chris snapped.

Blazer shook his head.  We need to get out of here, he thought. “Can anyone see, feel, or just get a good vibe on a wall, or anything but a steaming pile of shit?” he asked, following Chris’ voice.  He held one hand out in front of him as a feeler, keeping Marda’s hand in the other as he walked.  If there was any light in here at all I bet they’d have done this to use individually.

“Hey, I think I see something,” Porc cried out. “Yeah, there’s a faint red light ahead of me, I’d say about 250 to 300 Metra.”

“I don’t see anything,” Zithe replied.

“Nerzain vision extends further into the IR and UV bands than yours,” Porc snapped. “I don’t see Blazer’s Kall-Itra though, must have burrowed down, bet it’s loving it in here. Look, everybody just follow me, Bichard, and the elf. We’ll get out of here okay.”

“How’d you know Bichard and I could see beyond normal Anulian ranges,” Rudjick piped in. “Frag it all, I see it too!”

“Don’t question it, just press. It’s our only lead on a way out of here, at this point,” Porc snapped.

“I see it as well, but I got something in one of my eyes, so it’s blurry,” Bichard commented, his hands too filled with Treb to try and remove the obstruction sticking to one of his multi-faceted eyes.

“Porc, don’t make us regret this,” Blazer called. “Everyone stick close and follow the sound of Porc’s voice.”

Porc sloshed away, and everyone followed. He whistled a tune from his homeworld, one Blazer felt sure belonged to some dirty song or another. There was no other option, so he trudged along with the rest.

Porc’s estimate of the distance didn’t jive with how long it took them, and Blazer began to feel lightheaded. He knew he wasn’t the only one. The troop had to stop twice, gasping and fighting for air in the foul mess. When they reached the hatchway under the light they’d been following, better than half of them tottered on the brink of passing out. Blazer’s second lungs burned as they filtered the putrid air. As the effluent around them softened enough that he sank to mid-thigh, he found himself breathing even harder just to keep going and had to fight an urge to sit down.

Blazer sighed along with the others when he saw the hatch under the red light, with a platform jutting out from the wall beneath it. The platform stood at his shoulder height; a ladder extending up to the platform and also down further than he cared to guess. The dim red light seemed to shine like the sun in that moment, a beacon of hope in the darkness.

“Hold on everybody,” Porc called out. He climbed up the ladder and onto the platform, then reached up and struck the light emitting panel. Layers of caked on feces fell away in response. More light shone through as a result.

Blazer regretted Porc’s action. The additional light served only to accentuate the shadows and allow all of them to make out the disgusting consistency of the sludge they were standing in.

“That ought to help out the next group, at least,” Porc commented as he turned back to the others.

Breaking away from Deniv, Gavit approached the hatch. “So what do we do now, knock?”

“Worth a shot,” Rudjick replied as he went to the back of the group.

Shrugging, Porc turned and rapped on the door twice. The hollow reverberations echoed back though the chamber. An uncomfortable silence followed, interrupted only by the sound of someone peeing behind them. Everyone turned to look and found Rudjick, his shorts pulled down as he added his own urine to the soup. When he finished, he turned to find everyone staring at him in disbelief.

“Well, it’s not like we aren’t already in a toilet,” he shrugged.

Blazer considered chewing Rudjick out, but before he could, the hatch disappeared into the wall and a brilliant shaft of light burned its way through the chamber.  Porc stumbled back from the light and fell in the mire.  Blazer thought he would welcome the light, but instead he cowered from it.  The intensity of the beam seared his eyes.  This must be how the ancient Valu felt when they saw lights, Blazer mused in regards to the all but extinct race of darkness-bound undead.

"Everybody out," an unfamiliar harsh, chirping voice barked from beyond the hatch.

Blazer shielded his eyes as he made his way up the ladder, Arion giving him a gentle nudge to help him along.  The light in the passage stung his eyes worse than the smell in the chamber but he was glad of it until he had to look around.  The sight nauseated him, but he swallowed back the bile while looking upon the others.  Effluent covered them from head to toe.  Then he looked over his shoulder at the owner of the chirping voice; I should have stayed in the vat.

“Put the washouts in the corner,” Drill Sergeant Korto barked, his wicked double jaw accentuating the order with a harsh chirp.

Blazer swallowed hard. The Pendrick Drill Sergeant was infamous at the academy; the sound of his centipede-like legs had sent more than a few cadets into panics. The insectoid had the highest washout rate for new recruits at the academy. Everyone considered his drill and PT sessions to be the harshest and cruellest.

Blazer helped cut Treb and Samtriss free of Bichard’s sinewy lines. The whole time he could almost feel the sergeant’s four eyes focus on him from the tips of his eyestalks, while his massive claws clicked together, counting off the centipulses.

“Grab your field packs from against the wall, MOVE!”

Blazer slumped and grabbed his pack along with the others. He read the fear in several faces. No one wanted to face Drill Sergeant Korto.

“Get your filthy selves moving, double time!” Korto screamed, his voice echoing through the small corridor and the chamber.

Blazer hefted his pack onto his back.  It was heavy, at least 4 kilobar;a fifth of his own mass.  He hesitated to consider what they would have to do next.  The hike through the sewage tank had left him winded and starved of oxygen.  His second set of lungs felt heavy from filtering the methane-laced air and he knew that soon his second heart would also strain to process the toxins.

“Squadron, FALL IN!” Sergeant Korto hollered.

The squadron did as ordered, with Treb and Samtriss beginning to stir.

“At rest!”

The squadron obeyed, Blazer cringing at the sound of the waste sloughing onto the floor.

“I am sure you all know who I am.  I have been assigned as your drill sergeant for this little exercise in washing you out.  When Commander Tadeh Qudas isn't beating you lazy lumps into shape, I will be kicking your collective remnants and sending most of you down washout lane.  All of you who survive the next two decles will come to hate me; some may plot my demise. But hear this; the skills I teach you, and the punishment you endure, will save your lives some cycle.”

The sergeant paused and Blazer considered his words. Special Operations would not be easy for any of them. SpecOps Command would task them with things bordering on criminal, besides. But the Confederation needed them.

“Now, each of you is carrying a 4 kilobar pack, light by my standards and a few of yours,” he said, walking up to Bichard in particular. “We will now take a quick run around the circumference of the academy before heading down into the deep ruts to Lake Death.”

“Drill Sergeant, does that mean you'll be running with us?” Arion called out, drawing him away from Chris as her hands balled up behind her back.

Drill Sergeant Korto scurried up the wall and onto the ceiling with the strength and lightning speed his species had developed on their high gravity homeworld.  “No, cadet,” he replied, a wicked grin on his inner mouth exposing rows of spiked teeth.  “Not a one of you would be able to keep up, so I will ride alongside as moral support.”

Blazer shot Arion a quick glance as Korto zipped back down the opposite wall, his tail stinger coming far too close for comfort in the process.  Sergeant Korto’s moral support gained him his infamy.  It was an exercise in humiliation and demoralization. He berated cadets at every step, describing each and every flaw in eloquent detail.  He didn’t use the profanity that turned such exercises, with other drill instructors, into a joke.  Instead, he came off like an elder statesman.  His words alone forced them to pay attention.

“Take the waiting lift back up to the surface.”

In response, the doors to the freight lift beside them opened.

“Form up on the surface. Fall out!  Move! Move! Move!”

Blazer rushed into the lift, needing no more coaxing.  As the rest of the team began to pile in, he realized his mistake.  Standing at the back wall, the noxious vapors would waft over him longer than anyone else.  He cursed his mistake, but stood firm as the lift began to rise.  Set the example, stay strong.

He began to get antsy a pulse later. The smell was intolerable, and looking up at the indicator, he saw that they were rising at only a quarter of the lift’s normal speed. He and several others began to cough. The air was thick with their own stink and the remaining effluent on their bodies. Were it not for the number of people it such a small space it might have been tolerable, but the air soon began to reach a similar level of putrification as the sewage vat.

Gavit reached up to check the vent and shook his head. There was no air coming in.

Blazer felt starved for air by the time the lift came to a halt. He held onto the railing for support, all four of his lungs burning as the doors opened at a fraction of their normal speed. At least the sewage vat was large and open by comparison to the lift.

Trevis and Kallie of the Explosions slid their hands between the doors and pulled. The doors could not stand up against the two Tomeris and they slammed open.

Cool air wafted in and the squadron rushed out, gagging for breath. Their reprieve was short-lived with Drill Sergeant Korto awaiting them, coiled up on a hover cart.

Blazer spotted Korto and ran into formation, the others joining him. Blazer couldn’t help but notice the other cadets, officers, and orbs around the mall level looking on in awe and disgust at the scene.

As the last of them fell into ranks, Korto slid his hover cart around towards the doors. “Right Face, For-ward harch!”

The squadron complied and headed towards the doors.

“Squadron, double time, harch!”

UCSBA-13, High Gravity Ring

Each footfall served to remind Marda of the sewage vat.  Her shoes squished every step, expelling liquid waste as the squadron ran.  She forced herself not to focus on it, listening instead to Trevis’ handclaps as he set the pace at the head of the pack.  It was impossible to ignore, though.  The worst thing was how the smell wafting off them tainted the more pleasant smells of the academy’s plant life.

The grass track they ran on helped, until Drill Sergeant Korto diverted them. Sadistic bastard that he was, he took them on the gravel track that Marda always avoided in her own runs. Debris littered the trail, making the thought of keeping step a cruel joke. Korto seemed hard pressed to prove that cruelty every time someone had to jump out of formation to avoid the detritus or lost their footing for a moment.

Marda looked up as they ran and saw how close they were to the deep ruts separating the farms from the main campus of the academy. Each level took them further outspin from the center of the spinning space station, and each step down just increased the centrifugal gravity as a result. The pack she carried already added enough mass to make the run uncomfortable, and the ruts would only make it worse. Distracted by those thoughts, she stepped on a rock, lost her footing, and took one more good step before a depression in the gravel met her foot again. She tried to correct, but couldn’t, and fell.

She lay there a moment, breath knocked out of her, as the rest of the squadron continued past her. A few met her eyes with pained expressions, but she waved them on, not wanting to see them dragged down with her. When Porc ran past in the trail position, she struggled to her feet.

Her left ankle screamed when she put weight on it.  The pain shot up her leg with each step, and then a burning sensation in her knees drew her attention.  She limped along, doing her best to keep up.  Dropping her hands, she probed at her knees.  Gashes marred both joints, sweat and filth weeping into the open wounds.  She shuddered at the thought of the pathogens oozing into her blood from the wounds.  What I wouldn’t give for just two pulses to clean up. But there’s no way I’m asking for that; better just to stay out of Korto’s sight.

Marda lurched ahead and rejoined the formation. To her dismay, Drill Sergeant Korto greeted her. “Did the princess have a little accident? Would she like to rest?”

“No, Drill Sergeant!” Marda replied through gritted teeth.

“There’s no need to push yourself so hard, cadet. Catch your breath, clean yourself up,” he replied with an almost concerned tone.

Marda knew better.  Pendrick were expert liars, the subtle tones they generated when they spoke could lull someone into believing almost anything.  She’d seen it happen more than once during childhood travels.  “No need, Drill Sergeant, it’s nothing serious.”  Marda did her best to hide her pain as she ran.  Talk all you like, there’s no way that I’ll let you, or a few cuts, wash me out.

Korto didn’t let her off so easy and launched into a scolding verbal assault on her. She hummed to herself to block out his arguments. Korto didn’t count on her upbringing. Marda had grown up surrounded by diplomats and politicians. She’d sat in the presence of some of the greatest political orators of their age. Hence the raw power of Korto’s rhetoric, the subtleties of his phrasing and tone, were wasted on her. The pain radiating up her leg served as a constant reminder, however, that if she did not rest soon, she could face permanent injury. That was a valid point that the sergeant kept emphasizing.

Marda felt her resolve weaken as the ramp outspin came into view. The thought of running down into the higher gravity with her injury opened cracks in her mental armor. The look on Korto’s face told her that he’d seen those cracks too.

“Permanent disability, cadet. You should know better than most that even the best nano equipped surgeon can’t repair every injury. The space forces will not take a cripple, so fall out now. Tend to your wounds. Don’t let it all go for stubborn pride.”

Each step brought more pain to drill the point home, the pain becoming blinding.  She turned to look at the sergeant, not sure what to say.  Come on, girl, what do you do? Quit? Tell him to kiss off?  A movement caught her eye, a rustling in the bushes.  Was that a sign, a signal to keep going?  Before she could find an answer, a pop and sizzle rang out from Drill Sergeant Korto’s hover cart.

The cart crashed to the ground a moment later, Drill Sergeant Korto rolling free of it. He appeared uninjured, but the string of alien curses that escaped him caught Marda by surprise. She kept on, though—relief washed over her knowing that he had a new target for his abuse.

“Squadron, halt! Stand at Rest!” Korto hollered and picked up his cart.

Thank you god, Marda prayed as she jogged back up to the formation. She fell into ranks behind Gokhead and Bichard, the pair clicking back and forth at each other in a variation of Bichard’s native Coretherian. Blazer and Bichard had taught her enough of it over the break that she could make out most of the conversation.

“I swear I heard another de-grav lifter move away before the explosion,” Bichard clicked.

“Shat explosion wasn't a oberload circuit, wong tide, sabo tag," Gokhead replied, his mastery of the clicking language limited.

Marda had to suppress the urge to laugh at how Gokhead’s Drashig physiology left him unable to form the proper clicks. The lips of his vertically hinged snout left him sounding like he had a lisp in Coretherian.

Not wanting to call him out on that, she focused on her ankle, taking her weight off it the best she could.

Bichard gave Gokhead a quizzical look. "Still needs work,” he replied before going on. “The de-grav sounded like a personnel robot’s."

"It possible, vut why? Will nee to cee brace to be sure of cause."

That caught Marda by surprise.  A personnel robot? They’re just automatons. Could someone have programmed it to come after Korto? Certainly none of us could. We had no way of knowing Korto would be our drill instructor. Then who?

Before Bichard could reply or Marda could think further of it, Korto yelled,

“No matter.  Double time, harch!”

Drill Sergeant Korto ran to the front of the procession, leaving Marda behind.  She smiled.  He would have to focus so much on keeping their slower pace that he would have to pause in his verbal abuse of her. He’d be distracted, and that would give her a chance to concentrate on minimizing her injury rather than keeping in step.

Each step down the ramp brought an increase in gravity, an increase that Marda dreaded. She faltered at the bottom of the first ramp and stumbled towards Bichard. He spun and caught her with ease. She smiled up at him and felt something hot and sticky splatter against her leg. Looking down, she saw some of Bichard’s resin congealing around her ankle, solidifying into a hard cast.

“No,” she hissed.

“Don’t worry,” he clicked. “Your sweat will dissolve it. But it will help in the meantime.”

Marda looked down and hoped he was right.

The squadron reached the lowest level of the deep ruts without further incident. Marda felt the cast begin to splinter as her weight more than doubled on the run.

Their destination soon came into view. She wondered what was worse, the effluent pit they marched through or the scene before her. Stinging algae of at least a dozen varieties filled the fetid waters as did vegetable debris from the farms above. Leaves of plants she recognized as mildly poisonous bobbed in the waters, launching hordes of stinging insects in the air every time a stick or leaf breached the surface. Only the higher spin gravity here kept the bugs in place. No matter how hard they flapped, they could never escape the deep ruts. Marda looked about and spotted other lakes around them, gifts from Tadeh Qudas.

“Squadron, HALT!”

Marda rotated her ankle about, shattering the last of the improvised resin cast as Korto ran up and down their ranks.  Please don’t notice, please don’t notice!

“In the water! You have a 300 metra swim ahead of you, packs on.”

Marda groaned.  At least it’ll get the weight off my ankle.  She followed the squadron into the water, but first shifted her pack around onto her chest.  Despite the higher gravity she should remain just as buoyant, but lowering her center of gravity would help.  She eased into the lake, hyperventilating as she did to inflate her second set of lungs, the insects nipping at her the whole way. The water stung at her cuts, but once she was able to float, the pain in her ankle became bearable and she proceeded to swim away. The weight of her pack pulled down on her, but she actually felt some relief from the gravity as she bobbed along and swam towards the distant shore.

A commotion to her left drew attention as she passed the halfway point. Kallie, the leader of the Explosions Engineering team, thrashed at the surface. Marda shifted to move to her aid, but it was too late, and Kallie slipped beneath the dark waters. Telsh and Ller swam to her aid, and a moment later Kallie exploded from the water, gasping for breath, her pack absent. Kallie slipped below the surface again, pain wracking her face, then emerged again, flailing. Telsh grabbed hold of Kallie and hauled her towards shore.

When Marda slithered from the water, she found Drill Sergeant Korto waiting for her.  The look on his face told her much.  He had expected Marda to fail, not the bigger Tomeris woman.  He waited until everyone was out of the water before heading over to Kallie, moments before a medical team raced out of the walls of the deep rut.  When Bichard emerged from the water with a second pack, Marda smiled.  Would recovering Kallie’s pack save her?

Korto just looked at Bichard with disdain, then turned to Kallie. “Get her to medical, she’s done.” He then turned to the rest of them. “We do not abandon our gear, we do not abandon our mission, doing so means failure!”

Kallie didn’t reply, just lay back on the shore of the putrid lake and began to weep.  Damn!

UCSBA-13, Main Cafeteria

When dinnertime arrived and Drill Sergeant Korto announced they were heading to chow, Blazer wondered what torture the sergeant had in mind. None of them had eaten all cycle as they continued their grueling physical tests. No one spoke as they marched in and stood behind their seats. The three empty chairs seemed to mock them.

Blazer took a moment to look around and met the gazes of other cadets, who were not in the Special Operations program. In their pristine uniforms, they had no idea what the SpecOps squadron had endured. He envied them in their spotless uniforms, and didn’t even mind the obnoxious mustard yellow color, as a chunk of something slipped down his back. He tried not to consider what it was; feces, mud, or perhaps a leech he felt sure he had picked up during their run through a humid simulated jungle beneath the academy.

Tadeh Qudas entered, and the room snapped to attention. Blazer counted the groups that followed Tadeh Qudas to their tables. There should have been fourteen teams and seven sergeants. Instead, every team had holes in their ranks, and two teams were missing entirely.

Tadeh Qudas waited until the teams reached their tables before he turned to address the crowd. “All non-Special Ops cadets, stand at ease.”

The crowd complied, and Blazer braced himself, sure that something was coming.

“Before you stand the survivors of the first cycle of Special Operations training. Give them their rewards.”

I don’t like the sound of that.  Faster than he could anticipate, he felt something slam against the back of his head, something soft and sticky.  He shivered as it dripped down the back of his shirt. Across from him, he saw pudding splashed across Arion’s shoulder. In the corner of his eye, he saw a second wave coming, but he did nothing to avoid it and took the hit along with his fellow Special Operations cadets.  It was humiliating, but he stood there. After everything else this cycle, I can take getting pelted with some dessert.

A commotion four tables over showed that not everyone could. He stared past Arion as a member of the Apparent Traitors spun about and delivered a roundhouse kick to his pudding attacker. The thrower stumbled, and his assailant delivered a blow to the back of the head that sent him to the deck. The rest of the pudding thrower’s team rushed to his defense, but they were no match for the Apparent Traitors as they all fought back.

The brawl was short lived, as the drill sergeants quickly jumped in to wrestle the cadets apart. By the time security arrived a few pulses later, it was over, the drill sergeants standing over the cadets with their authority sticks in hand. Security escorted all the brawlers away.

Tadeh Qudas waited in silence until the cafeteria quieted, then addressed the crowd again. “Now you know how even your allies can turn against you and how demonstrators on some worlds may greet you when you return home, not with open arms, but with hatred. Take your seats!”

Blazer collapsed in his seat and waited in silence while the autocook kicked out field rations to him. Not expecting even that much, he sank his teeth into the nutrient bar gratefully. It had no flavor, but it was better than nothing. He ate half before saying anything. “Too bad about the Apparent Traitors. I knew two of them. They were good guys.”

“They were planning to apply to be a DIU,” Chris replied.

Gavit whistled in response. “That’s a shit assignment. Deep Infiltration Units have a really high mortality rate.”

“They felt certain to get it,” Chris replied. “I knew their squad leader Tolimar pretty well. His dad was in a DIU as well so he was certain he could beat the odds. Shows what he knew.”

“Let’s not dwell,” Blazer ordered. “Get something in you and keep your energy up. It’s the only way we’ll make it.”

UCSBA-13, Dorm Room 305

Blazer buckled into his chair and looked at the time.  They’d been up for twenty-six hects, but it had felt like twenty-six cycles.  I’m surprised they didn’t keep us up another four hects, could have finished out the cycle.  He stripped off his shirt and was ready to toss it away when Deniv emerged from the bathroom. “It’s all shut down.”

Blazer bit back a curse and wiped himself down with the ruined garment.  “Clean up best you can and get to sleep,” Blazer ordered and kicked open his locker.  A fresh set of PT clothes awaited him. He had never felt so glad to see the simple garments in his life.

The others did as he said, but before they could climb into their bunks, the door chimed. Blazer groaned and expected Korto to burst through the door. Instead, Zithe and Datt stormed into the room. Datt stood there trembling, a piece of plasti-sheet in his hand.

“What’s wrong?” Blazer asked, simultaneously trying to read the handwritten note.

“It’s Treb,” Datt replied.

Everyone looked over in response.

“He left us this,” Datt continued and read the note to the group:

“My Friends-

I cannot deal with the thought of remaining at the academy, continuing to work toward a space forces career, but having to see you all every cycle and knowing that I will not serve on the SpecOps team we started together. To that end, I’ve handed in my voluntary Wash Out form to the Admiral for processing. By the time you read this, I will have already left on the first transport back home. I’m so sorry this had to happen, but it must be as it must be.

–Treb.”

The room went deathly silent. Blazer felt his hearts sink and looked around. Defeat hung on every face, even Zithe’s. They had no time to consider Treb’s loss earlier—too caught up in the moment. Now the sting of it hit full force. He could not let it drag them down. Despite his fatigue, he climbed to his feet. “It sucks.” That was not how he wanted to start, but he had no time for eloquence. “It does. But we all knew there would be losses.

“Treb made his decision, but it doesn’t have to be anyone else’s.  Yes, we came here to join SpecOps, and we’re willing to fight for it.”  He snatched the plasti-sheet from Datt’s hand.  “But the Space Forces need us, regardless.  We’re here because we want to be.  We’re here because we think that we have what it takes.  Shoot me to Sheol if you want, but I plan to finish this here, no matter the outcome. And, I’ll drag every single one of you along with me if I have to. I won’t lose anyone else. We won’t lose anyone else. You have my word.

“We will be the squad that shatters Drill Sergeant Korto’s record. And Datt, the next time you get back to Kal-Var, the next time you see Treb, hold your head high. Treb will be proud of you, proud that you’re a Special Ops officer. He would not want you to falter due to his decision. We’re the Blade Force, we are the Confederation’s greatest weapon, and we will not fail.”

Blazer got an unexpected, but very welcome, round of hearty, irreverent affirmatives from his crew. Datt still trembled, however, and Blazer stepped across the room to give his teammate a quick hug of support. Blazer knew the pair were close, and the loss would be hardest for Datt.

“You’ll make it.  We all will. Now we’d all better get some sleep.  We’re going to need it.”

Datt nodded and smiled back at Blazer before Zithe walked him back to their room.

Blazer and his roommates climbed back into their racks, exhausted. One by one, they collapsed into uneasy slumber.

But it was not to last. Two hects later their door sprung open, and Drill Sergeant Korto rushed in. He pulled them out of their racks and into the passageway. Their training was far from over.

UCSB DATE: 1001.022

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Asteroid Tether 10

After a decle of Special Operation training, Blazer wasn’t sure which he felt more acutely, fatigue or pain. The intensity of the Special Operations training was ramped up with each passing cycle. The drill instructors ran the cadets everywhere, and the routes kept getting longer. Blazer had hit and exceeded his pain and exhaustion thresholds so many times, he wondered if he even had them anymore.

The hand-to-hand combat exercises were nothing to laugh about either. They had to be on constant alert for robotic attackers disguised as any known race. Two cycles earlier, a group of such robots had pounced on them, and a cadet who’d violated the training boundary had joined their attack. Blazer had to pull Arion off the unwary cadet. Medics had escorted that cadet away with four broken ribs and an arm. Arion did escape unscathed, and spent the rest of the cycle running downspin laps around the academy while the Cadre decided his fate.

Blazer almost collapsed during his crawl through the tunnels beneath the deep ruts. Three cycles without sleep would have claimed him if he hadn’t stumbled upon the item they had sent him in for. Finding it gave him the morale boost he needed to crawl back out of the tunnel. Sleep was every candidate’s most precious commodity; Blazer even gave up a few of their meager meals just to get some rest. For once he was glad for gorging himself during the Dask of Outcome celebrations.

Each cycle offered a grueling new task or surprise, and the last had been no exception. Sergeant Korto handed Blazer and the other sleep-deprived and starving cadets knives, and pointed towards a pen filled with wild sows. Their task was simple. They each had to kill and gut one of the creatures. Blazer responded without question, waving those along who seemed squeamish at first. Hunger, fatigue, and his own instincts guided his attack.

There was a reward for that kill, however. Tadeh Qudas allowed them to eat the beasts. Blazer and his team seared the meat almost to the point of being inedible before they ate it, to make sure that they killed anything that would make them sick. Though he felt too stuffed to move afterwards, Blazer dug back into the beast to fashion weapons from its bones and sinew.

As they sat about resting, Drill Sergeant Korto confiscated the weapons and informed them of the numbers. Forty-eight cadets had washed out over the course of the decle. Moreover, the cadets had received orders to not to keep extra meat against their elementary survival training.

The cadets had slept in the woods after the slaughter. The next cycle Drill Sergeant Korto had woken them, dumping their flightsuits in the middle of the clearing. No one questioned it, and after sifting through the pile, they pulled their flightsuits on over their mud-, sweat- and blood-soaked PT uniforms. From there, they ran to the hangar and boarded shuttles which ferried them out to an asteroid over a thousand kilometra from the academy.

From his shuttle hovering above the iron ore asteroid they’d landed upon, Drill Sergeant Korto looked down at the Blade Force. “Your task this cycle is simple, cadets. Make your way back to the academy before your air and water supplies run out,” Korto called over the link. “Sergeant Falpin has already informed me that the runts under him quit. They said it was impossible. Care to join them?”

Blazer shook his head and waved Korto away, not thinking of the implications, before looking out across the expanse from his little asteroid. His team stood arrayed before him, the Explosions at the end of another tendril near theirs, only just visible from their position. Between the two tendrils, he found the running lights of Drill Sergeant Korto’s shuttle, from where he watched both teams.

Following the navigation beacon in his helmet, Blazer turned to look back down the tendril of asteroids leading back to the academy.  It was little more than a dot in his visor and he couldn’t make heads or tails of their orientation in relation to it.  I can’t tell, are we coming in along the major axis, near the deep ruts? Or are we coming in near the ends? He imagined the academy as he considered what to do.  The main facility was fourteen kilometra long, with the hangar at one end and the power plant at the other.  From the end of the plant was a retractable six-kilometra-long structure of radiator panels.  When the Galactic Federation had attacked the Admiral had ordered the array retracted in an effort to go undetected.  The ruse had failed.  If they bring us in along the axis, we’re hosed.  Even at its narrowest the academy is three and a half KMe in radius, there’s no way an impact wouldn’t be fatal.  Even if we survived there’s no way we could hold on.  He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if they came in near the deep ruts.  We must be heading towards the aft array then; depending on how close those tendrils come to the academy itself they would create a navigational Sheol that close to the launch tubes or the landing bay. Besides, I’ve never seen these anytime w’ve flown before, at least not near the hangar. The academy must only drag them into place for this test.

He looked around, and saw that no one could figure out what to do. He watched a few floating bits of rock and ice drifting along their tendril, bouncing off the invisible barrier containing them.

Blazer looked back towards the academy.  Nothing to it but to do it.  We have to get moving.  So he reached down and clicked open the emergency tether from his flightsuit.  The woven tether was a good fifty metra long.  Blazer often wondered Why? But in that moment, he felt thankful for the additional length.

Unfurling it from its reel, he unclipped it from his flightsuit and turned to the others. “Okay, listen up! Reel out your emergency tethers and join them together. We need to get moving if we’re going to make it in time.”

Zithe bounded into Blazer’s face, his helmet dome set to transparent. “What are you talking about? Who put you in charge?”

Blazer closed his eyes for a moment.  Damn it, Seri, why did you have to die before appointing one of us leader?  We don’t have time for this.  Blazer depolarized his own dome and locked eyes with Zithe. “If you have a better plan, let’s hear it.”

Zithe looked out at the tendril then back at Blazer. “Obviously, we jump for it.”

Blazer shook his head. “Of course we jump for it, but how? Do you want us going lone wolf out there? Each of us jumping for a rock on our own? Then what happens? If we split up, that all but guarantees that we’ll all end up adrift.”

“Then we hit the dark matter barrier. After that you jump back to another or walk the rest of the way from there.”

Gokhead stepped up in response to that, his reverse hinged knees making him stand out even more than usual.  “I don’t think so,” he said, pointing out a series of twinkling objects arrayed along and between the tendrils.  “First off you can’t just walk on a dark matter screen like that, it doesn’t work that way.  Also, those are the dark matter manipulation satellites that keep the rocks in place.  They’re the same as the ones maintaing the asteroid shell.  While they are keeping the tendrils in place, I hazard that they won’t stop us.  They probably aren’t programmed to.  We’ll just drift, waiting to be picked up, and we’ll fail.”

“Besides that, Zithe, look at the distances,” Blazer implored. “If each one us has to make every rock to rock jump ourselves we’ll be so exhausted by midcycle that we’ll never make it. No, we have one person here who can make those jumps consistently all cycle and not kill himself in the process.”

All eyes turned on Bichard as he towered over the rest in his lumpy flightsuit. He looked from side to side at them, his antennae emitting a nervous hum over the link. Blazer approached his old friend, then pointed at the first asteroid he wanted to jump to. “Can you make that?”

Bichard nodded. “I can leap twice with no risk if I had to.”

“Good, that’s exactly what I needed to hear, buddy.” Blazer turned back to the others. “We’re each carrying a reel with fifty metra of emergency tether. If we snap them together, we have enough for 550 metra. The tethers are more than strong enough to hold all of us. Bichard will take one end and make the jump to the next asteroid inward. We’ll anchor it on this end, climb across, and repeat the process.”

They looked at each other and nodded.

“Bichard, I know this is a lot to put on you. If you start getting tired, you let me know, and we’ll start taking turns on the jumps.” Blazer then reached back and tapped his backpack. “While we’ve all got emergency suit jets, we need to limit their use. Every time we fire them, we use up a little of our emergency air reserves and power cells. We need those cells to run our air and water recyclers. We should have just enough to last, if we don’t waste anything.”

Blazer looked back down the tendril at the dim dot of the academy in the distance. That spinning, hollowed out rock was their home, now. Even after getting a decent sleep the cycle before, he knew they were still tired. The fatigue of the decle was wearing on all of them. He walked around Bichard so that he could address the team.

“No one elected me leader. So if anyone has a better plan, step up and let’s hear it.”

No one did.

“Then we go with mine. This is our best shot at making it home and our best shot at making it through the program. I know it seems impossible, but they’ve made us do things we have thought impossible every cycle, and we’ve risen to the challenge every time. There’s an old saying in Special Ops: if you don’t do one impossible thing before breakfast, then you’re doing something wrong.”

A few loose chuckles echoed back over the link.

“But I know this: I see Drill Sergeant Korto smirking at us in his nice comfortable seat, waiting for us to fail, and, on that tendril over there are the Explosions. They’re relying on us to make it too. And on that tendril over there,” he said, pointing at the one opposite the Explosions.

They all turned to look.

“That, that’s Chertsin and his group, or what’s left of it. I know he’s looking over here, and he knows it’s us. He’s thinking we’re going to fail. So, if you don’t do it for the Explosions, and you don’t do it for yourself, then do it for him. Do it so we can rub it in his snide little face that we can do this, and that we are not failures.

“This is who we are. You signed on for this, and you proved you could do it. So let’s get it done.”

Affirmative grunts rang out and everyone reeled out and disconnected their tethers from their suits. As the lifeline reached them, each hooked their tether to the end. Once they were finished, Blazer hooked the end onto the back of Bichard’s suit. No one ever questioned if or how Blazer really knew who was on the next tendril over.

Blazer handed the other end to Arion and Datt. “You two are our most massive guys. I’ll need you to anchor Bichard. So activate the maglocks in your boots and dig in. You two are the only thing keeping him from becoming a satellite if he misses.”

They both nodded, wrapping the tether around their waists and digging their heels through the surface dust to the harder iron ore beneath to give their maglocks the best hold.

Blazer turned back to Bichard and froze, his eyes wide. He watched one of the smaller meteoroids drift past where he’d estimated the barrier to be. He looked around and saw another do the same, and looking farther up the line of asteroids he noticed them separating. He checked his position in regards to other navigational markers around the academy. They were moving, not fast, but when they shut down the barrier they must have imparted some kind of force on the rocks. “They’ve shut down the barrier.”

Everyone else looked around.  A few curses rang out over the link.  It’s all little stuff now, but there’s nothing to keep the big rocks from getting loose either. Worse, if we take too long the rocks closer to the academy may not be close enough to jump to.  He looked back at the others.  “We need to move now.  Arion, Datt, are you ready?”

“Affirmative,” the pair replied.

Blazer turned back to Bichard. “Do it big bug.”

Bichard skittered across the ground towards the next asteroid and jumped. He sailed across the darkness, the emergency tether trailing him. He landed on the rocky surface, the impact pushing the asteroid. Arion and Datt braced themselves as the line went taut and kept pulling until the tension on the line eased up.

“Move it folks.  One at a time, let’s get across,” Blazer ordered, and then pulled one of the leg straps hanging from the bottom of his emergency kit and wrapped it around the tether. “Use your legs straps to secure yourselves to the tether just in case. Now move,” he called, ushering the first of them across before he turned to Arion and Datt. “The two of you will take turns going last. You can jump it or let us reel you in, but I recommend letting us pull you over.”

Both of them nodded, and one rock at a time, the Blade Force made their way towards the academy.

With each passing hect, the academy grew larger in their visors. It always reminded Blazer of an overcooked sausage speared through a flattened pastry roll. The texture of the rock at this distance just blended together into dirty gray mess. At least the view confirmed his suspicion, that they were parallel to the major axis.

Just as Blazer feared though, more of the rocks and ice that made up their tendril escaped too.  Their motions, however, revealed that they’d been placed into orbits around the academy, orbits that seemed to speed up as they got closer.  That should at least cut our impact speed, but I’d still rather come in on one of the ends if possible.  Blazer couldn’t even begin to keep a tally of the rocks while planning their route. He found himself relying more on Gokhead, Gavit and Deniv to plot them a course that would keep their options open and the rocks close. They had the best instinct for orbital mechanics, but even they were having difficulty. With their helmet able to track only a single navigational reference point at a time, and no ready way to crunch the numbers, most of the plots they came up with for the asteroids were guesswork at best.

The fact that they’d begun a slow orbit around the academy didn’t help matters either. Bichard missed two of his intended targets when he jumped at them, sailing past before the team could pull him back. He had to adjust his jump to place himself slightly ahead of the next rock and let it come to him. The different orbital speeds meant that each jump required him to lead his target more each time.

What I wouldn’t give to be heading towards Singularity Station.  He looked at the dim dot at the heart of the spherical shell of asteroids keeping the academy hidden, its main sensor dish glinting in the light.  At least there we could see more clues about the orbital mechanics ourselves then we do with the academy itself.

Blazer looked back at the others preparing for the next jump. It would be their furthest leap of the cycle by far. By any normal measure of asteroid distances, these two rocks were still impossibly close. If the range finder in his helmet proved correct, they were six hundred seven metra away from it. They were even drifting towards each other, but too slow to make a difference. They didn’t have a long enough tether. If Bichard made that jump, he would just end up hanging on the end of the line.

Looking for another route, he saw they would have to backtrack to get to where the rocks were closer together.  Do we even have that kind of time, or air reserves? He walked over to the others, looking for suggestions.   He read the fatigue in their postures, the big meal they’d had the cycle before was a distant memory.

Looks like were’ going to have to lone wolf it like Zithe wanted to do all along. If anyone misses though, that’s it, there’s no way we can mount a rescue. Will they blame me if that happens? I will that’s for certain, it doesn’t matter how far I’ve brought them.

Blazer looked at the rock again.  Sixty metra, that’s all we need, where do we get it?

He looked over at Bichard.  They had asked so much of him this cycle.  While others volunteered to make a few of the first jumps, none of them had made them as well as he had.  None of them had the jump strength Bichard did and they would always end up having to fire their suit jets to make the distance or cushion their landing.  Sighing, he headed over to his old friend.

“So, what’s the plan?” Bichard asked.

“Bichard, you know as well as I that we’re short.”

“We knew that this was going to happen at some point Blazer.”

“No. I won’t risk losing anyone when there’s a better way. I’ve made promises.”

Bichard placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes there are promises that we just can’t keep my friend.”

Blazer looked at his friend’s arm, and inspiration struck. “Your resin!”

Even Bichard perked up at that idea.

“We can fashion more line out of your resin like we used to.”

“Maybe. I mean it did use to harden pretty quickly in vacuum. But we only ever used it to lash things down, not carry anyone. I can’t be certain it will hold.”

Blazer looked around at the others and focused on Marda. The weightless environment was good on her ankle but she would never be able to make the jump without hurting herself unless she used her suit jets. “Bichard, just sixty metra, that’s all we need. Then we triple time it across.”

Bichard’s antenna twitched in thought. “We know in air that the resin would be strong enough, but like I said...”

Zithe skidded over, listening in on the conversation. “This is insane. You’re asking him to expose himself to vacuum.”

Bichard looked back at Zithe. “I’ve been exposed to vacuum before. The question is, just how long will the resin last with us climbing it.”

Blazer swallowed hard.  Even if they continued to use the leg straps as safety lines to lengthen the tether they would come up short, and they weren’t close to strong enough.  There’s nothing else, it’s the resin or we go it alone.

Before Blazer could say so, Bichard took matters into his own hands. He ripped open a hole in his flight suit just beyond his resin duct, and began pushing the resin out. He pushed out a two metra long cord and then slapped his hand over the breach before handing one end to Blazer. They tugged and pulled on it for ten pulses. It stiffened, but remained pliable. After another fifteen pulses, it hardened, but remained strong. Ten pulses later, it snapped.

“Is that enough time?” Bichard asked.

They all looked at each other.  Thirty-five pulses isn’t much, but we did that five hundred metra jump in less. We can do this.

“We’ll climb three at a time just in case,” Blazer ordered.  “Then we reel it in as soon as we can.  If the resin line breaks before we’re all across, then those furthest up will tow the rest in on their suit jets. It’s our best chance.”

Marda laid a hand on Blazer’s shoulder. “You’ve carried us this far, we trust you.”

Bichard nodded and began producing more of the resin. He exhausted one resin pod, then tore open his other sleeve and produced even more line from the resin pod there. He wove the two lines together as the second pod produced its line and joined them to the end of the tether. “That gives us about two hundred metra, I figure. I could do more…”

Blazer shook his head. “No, you’ve done enough damage to your suit, even if it does reseal.”

Without any further orders or preamble, Bichard made the jump. The first three jumped with him, firing their suit jets to keep from jerking the line. Arion and Datt held anchor again. Over half of the squad jetted up the line as Bichard flew across the void. After he impacted the other rock, digging his claws into the surface, the rest followed. As they came upon the resin line, each of them checked its condition, relaying its state.

***

After the last group reached the midpoint, Datt waved Arion to go on. “You go now, it’s your turn.”

Arion shook his head. “No, we go together.”

“The line’s holding, you heard them. You guys can reel me in or I can jet over. I have plenty of reserve oxygen. I don’t breath as hard as the rest of you.”

Arion shook his head—there was no time to argue and he started up the line without Datt.

Datt watched Arion climbed and looked around.  He searched the skies for Kal-Sing the star Kal-Var orbited.  Treb should be home by now. Why did you have to leave?

The pain of Treb’s loss mounted with each cycle.  It felt like he’d lost a part of himself and there was no way he could fill it.  We were just friends, weren’t we?  Why does this hurt so much?  The memory of the pained looks in Treb’s eyes when he would go out on dates stared back at him, searing his soul.  He had thought that their trip home would refresh him.  Instead, it just made Datt miss it more.  They don’t show it outside the house, but my fathers, they love each other. Isn’t that against what Kal-Var stands for? Is that what I feel for Treb?

Even thoughts of sleeping with women didn’t comfort him anymore.  Much as I try not to, I still compare them all to Treb.  We’ve kept each other going for so long, but now that he’s gone, I…, I just don’t know.  I’ve tried to stay strong for the team, he thought and looked up at them. Arion was over halfway across the expanse.

I don’t care what Blazer says anymore. He convinced me to stay after Treb quit, when all I wanted to was run home, to him. But this isn’t the life I want, this last decle is proof enough of that. And what we did to those bores last cycle. What kind of barbarians are they turning us into?

This isn’t who I was raised to be. I’m not going to quit though. I’ll finish the trials here, then I’ll march right into Admiral Sares’ office and turn in my 618-G. Then I’ll resign my commission and go home, see my fathers, see Treb, go where I’m really wanted.

He looked up.  Arion had almost made it across.  This was it.  Time to show I’m just as tough as the rest of them. One step close to Treb. I know Treb loves me, but will he love me more for sticking it out?

“I’m across,” Arion reported a moment later.

“On my way,” Datt replied and backed up to make his jump.  He turned down the mag-locks in his boots, ran across the surface and jumped, firing his suit jets.  He watched the others reel in the tether as fast as they could and smiled.  They can drag me in if I miss this time.  He fondled the tether for a moment and shook his head.  Screw it, I’ll gather it up later, I just want to fly right now.

“Datt watch out,” Gokhead hollered.

Datt looked around.  What’s Gokhead so excited about?

“Rock incoming!” Gokhead reported.

Datt couldn’t see a rock, and without any kind of sensors fired his jets.  He spun about and came to face the incoming object.  He didn’t even have time to register it before the slamball-sized meteoroid crashed into him.  The life support control pack on his chest absorbed most of the impact, buckling against his chest, the shock gel inserts of his suit bursting to absorb the blow before the icy ball exploded.  Even so, the air exploded from Datt’s lungs, the sound of snapping ribs echoing through his suit.

The armored vest he wore kept the ice meteor from ripping through his body.  Thanks to whoever made this thing. But damn, I shouldn’t have been so stupid. I should have been on the lookout for that thing.

The impact had sent him off on a vector that was almost perpendicular to his last, a fast vector, the shock gel leaving an iridescent trail behind him.  The line went taut as the rest of the team anchored him and he began to whip down across the asteroid.  His trajectory shifted into a wide parabolic arc as the line wrapped against the asteroid.  His vision blurred under the G-forces and the pain of the impact.

Datt focused as best he could; he squeezed his legs to keep blood to his brain and watched the asteroid accelerate towards him.  His course would bring him down on the other side of the asteroid from the team.  The tether wrapping around the asteroid arrested his descent, but not enough.  Have to slow myself.  If I hit too fast my suit is sure to breach.  He twisted about to bring his feet beneath him.  As the surface rose to meet him, he fired his suit jets, full force.  It wasn’t enough.  He crashed to the surface, pain radiating up his body as the impact shattered both his legs.

***

Blazer felt the line go slack, and bounded around the asteroid towards Datt.  He almost launched off twice before he spotted the running lights of Drill Sergeant Korto’s shuttle hovering above Datt’s limp body.   Blazer raced ahead.  No way is that Pendrick taking another of my team, not now.

The Sergeant twisted about and intercepted Blazer. “Stay Back, Cadet!”

Blazer locked eyes with those alien eyestalks as best he could through the helmets. “He’s our man. We’ll take care of him.”

“No you can’t. Check your readouts.”

Blazer moved to get around the sergeant but he held up an arm again.

“You go past me and you wash. So don’t even try it!” Korto warned him.

Blazer looked out at Datt. Datt held out his arm, his thumb up as the medics swarmed over him.

Marda landed beside Blazer, a solemn look on her face.  “I have the readouts from his suit.”

Blazer looked over at Marda as she held up her medical specialist macomm, a hologram hovering above it.  The indicators weren’t good.  Datt had multiple fractured ribs, a broken right arm, and both legs were shattered, along with internal injuries and bleeding.  He landed too hard, he’s done.

Blazer looked back at the sergeant. “You’re going to wash him for this aren’t you?”

“He’s out of the SpecOps program. The rest is up to him.”

Zithe came up to Blazer, the tether coiled in his arms. He handed it to Blazer. “You lost one. Don’t lose the rest.”

Blazer stared back at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You made a promise to Datt, but his mistake made you break that promise.” Zithe motioned towards the others. “Don’t break it for anyone else.”

Blazer looked back at the team. Most of them hadn’t been in the room when Blazer had made his declaration to Datt and his roommates. Those that were, filled in the others.

Blazer had to resist the temptation to do more as the medical team took Datt away. He fought them the entire time to keep his hand up, to show them that it was okay to go on without him. After they’d loaded him onto the shuttle, he managed to get a signal off. “Go, do it for me and Treb.”

Blazer felt his resolve weaken, and looked back at the others.  He read the doubt in their faces. Don’t let them sit and dwell, get them moving.  He looked about the floating rocks and ice to find their next objective.  Past the next rock, he made out the shape of the academy and saw that the tendril has split into three distinct paths.  One looked to head straight towards the midpoint of the academy and the deep ruts, the other two to either end.  Hangar, deep ruts, or the radiator array?  I still doubt we’ll be led close enough to the hangar to leap right in, too many navigational hazards.  The running lights in the distance confirmed that at least some craft were flying in and out of the academy.  And there’s no way they can increase the orbital period of these rocks without flinging them away from the academy to make a landing at the deep ruts feasible without severe injury or death. So that leaves the array.

Blazer gave the order. “Put it aside. Datt’s gone. We can’t do anything about it now and we have to finish this. We’re taking the path to our left; that should lead us to the thermal array behind the reactor core. Let’s get ready for the next jump.”

The team turned to him, disbelief on many faces.  Let them hate you if you have to, just keep them moving, or they’ll all quit, he told himself. “We’ve come too far to just give up now. If Korto hadn’t intercepted I would have carried Datt myself, but there’s no going back now. So, for Datt and Treb, for everyone who didn’t make it this far, we reach the academy. We finish this.”

No one said anything, instead making ready for the next jump.

“We go,” Blazer continued and handed the tether back to Bichard.

Blazer’s relief at reaching the end of the tendril was short-lived when they arrived several hects later. The array of thermal radiators and collapsible scaffolding hung before them and to his right, the scarred rocky body of the academy. Still the rock they stood upon hung over three kilometra from the array. Worse than that its orbit was taking it away from the academy, and their deadline was fast approaching.

Blazer walked up to Gokhead. “What do you think?”

Gokhead shook his head. “We can make it. We’ll burn up most of our suit jets in the process when we land, but we can make it.”

“What if we all just go front of this thing and fired our jets? Could we slow it down enough to drop its orbit?”

Gokhead shook his head. “Not here. We don’t have the fuel and the academy doesn’t have enough pull, the way these rocks keep drifting away is evidence enough of that.”

Blazer sighed. “What about for an individual?”

Gokhead looked away for a moment, then scrunching up his nose in disgust, like he couldn’t find something, turned back.

Blazer looked back at Bichard—the coiled tether in his arms. It would do them no good to link everyone together so he snapped open the links and began to hand them back. “Our best bet now, I figure, is to go it alone or in pairs.”

Zithe turned to him. “What are you talking about? Blazer there’s impossible and then there’s out and out insane. Look at where we are.”

Blazer looked back over his shoulder. “I know where we are Zithe, and I know exactly where we’re going.” Blazer pointed back at the thermal array. “I made promises to everybody, that we were going to make this, and we’re right there. I know we’ve already done the impossible this cycle, so what’s one more impossible thing?

“Were we to come up on the main body of the academy we’d be much worse off. I don’t know about you, but my suit isn’t telling me where the gravity pads are, or where the airlocks might be. Our only hope along the main body would be aim for one of those. Otherwise, the speed of the academy would just fling us back into space, assuming it didn’t kill us. Our orders were to reach the academy and I for one am not going to quit as its filling up half my sky.

“The academy rotates at a little over point six five revs a pulse. So that means the tangential velocity at the array is less than 8 metra per cent, low enough that our suits can match it prior to landing. It’ll be rough, and we might get hurt, but it’s our best bet. I’m not quitting now, and neither are any of you.”

No one argued, but a few looked up at the structure or at the academy itself, flexing their legs.

“Good, now buddy up. I can’t be certain that any of us know exactly where we’ll be jumping for. But, we can see where we want to go. Burn out your suit jets if you have to, exhaust your energy reserves, your tanks will have enough to get you inside one of the service duct airlocks once we land.”

Gokhead held up a hand. “We should pair up with someone as close to our strength as we can. Otherwise we’ll risk going into a spin and off-course.”

Blazer nodded and everyone found their partner. Blazer and Deniv took the lead jump, Arion and Bichard followed, then Marda and Gokhead, Chris and Rudjick.Zithe and Gavit brought up the rear. They all sailed across the expanse, firing their suit jets to correct their courses.

Blazer felt his mouth go dry as he approached, but did nothing to wet it.  He had to concentrate on the landing as he approached the rotating framework.

He pointed out their landing spot to Deniv, the backside of the thermal radiator’s base structure, as it rotated towards them.  They fired their jets to close in, then spinning about, they fired them again to match speed as best they could.  An indicator in Blazer’s helmet lit up as his sensors calculated his impact speed.  Frag it all I didn’t speed up enough.  The emergency shock gel packs in his suit primed, ready to cushion the blow.

Blazer and Deniv slammed into the side of the structure hard, the shock gel bursting into the special pouches across their bodies an instant before impact. Despite that, they hit with enough force to knock the wind out of them. Blazer lay there motionless, the minimal gravity at this radius barely able to hold him in place as the shock gel evacuated from a port in the back of his suit, evaporating into the vacuum.

Blazer chuckled to himself for a moment and felt lucky that he had made it at all. Looking up between gasping breaths, he watched each group come in to land. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then his blood went cold. Rudjick rocketed in at twice Blazer’s impact speed, Chris nowhere in sight.

“Chris, link in. Where are you?” Blazer ordered, and fought to get to his feet.

“Our tether snapped,” Chris replied, pain evident in her voice. “Rudjick how are you?”

“I’m coming in hot, almost there,” a bone-jarring smack echoed over the link. “I’m down,” he moaned.

“Chris, what happened?” Blazer called.

“My suit jets misfired and threw us into a spin, snapping the tether’s D-Ring. I lost most of my momentum when the it broke but I’m still coming in. My jets are near exhausted though. There’s no way I can match speed with the station.” Her voice broke with each syllable. “Shit, I think I’m going to miss.”

Blazer linked back in, calling out to everyone. “Does anyone have a visual on Chris?”

“I do,” Bichard called out. “I don’t think she’s going to miss, but she’s going to hit far down the radiator adjacent to mine, not sure if there’s any place for her to grab onto.”

“Gavit, Zithe, can you guys catch her?”

“Negative,” Gavit replied. “I’ve got eyes on her. But, even if I separated from Zithe, I’d burn up my jets just getting to her. Sorry Chris, but your lateral speed is good though for where you’re coming in. Just keep your legs under you and the landing won’t kill you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Chris replied. “No, just everyone else, keep on going.”

“Negative!  We’re not losing you Chris,” Blazer called.  Think man, there has to be something.

“Bichard just cut loose from me,” Arion groaned.

“Bichard don’t be stupid,” Chris called out. “What do you think you can do?”

“I’m not being stupid. I’m being brave. I can’t let my Chris get washed.”

Chris scoffed back at him. “My Bichard don’t. Don’t risk yourself for me.”

“Nonsense, this is what I do.”

“Bichard, what’s your plan?” Blazer called out.

“I can see where she’s going, and can beat her there.”

“I can see you Bichard,” Chris linked back. “I think so anyway.”

“Don’t worry, I can see you just fine. Sorry, but I might be a little late though.”

“Don’t be too late. I regrew all this hair over break, and I don’t want to find a new hairdresser,” Chris called back, in obvious pain.

Blazer checked her readings.  She had a cracked rib and a nasty welt up her side if he read it right.  She’s got to be hurting, but she can push through it, she’s one tough critch. 

“Bichard tell me you still have a visual on her,” Blazer ordered, and tried to get his suit to relay their positions.  Why couldn’t we do this in our ACHES?  Right, no shock gel, Blazer wondered, Armored Combat Hostile Environment Suit, the Confederation’s combat suit of choice.

“I do, but so does Korto.”

Chris cursed at Bichard’s report. “I see him. That Pendrick bastard think’s he going to wash me. Frag that to Sheol and back. I’ve got a visual on you Bichard. I’m going to hit before you get to me.”

“It’s okay. Just fire whatever suit jets you have left, try to match the rotation.”

“I’ve got one good jet left, I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“Bring it in line with your center of gravity as best you can and do it, whatever you have.”

Blazer held his breath, and activated the emergency command override in his suit. Position markers lit up his view. Chris closed with the backside of the thermal radiator far too fast for his comfort and Bichard was not under her yet.

“Almost there,” Chris called out. “Twenty five metra, twenty, fifteen, five.”  She screamed out in pain as she slammed into the surface.

Blazer checked her medical status. She’d come in too fast for the shock gel to completely absorb the impact. She dislocated her shoulder, fracturing the bone.

Bichard was on her a moment later, latching onto her as she bounced away and dragged her back to the surface. “I’ve got you!”

“Not so hard,” she whimpered back.

A quick chuckle escaped Blazer’s lips. “Chris, what’s your status?”

“Ow, I think I broke something,” she called back as Bichard cradled her against the surface. “If I get washed out for this, I’m going to eat that Pendrick.”

“I wouldn’t advise that,” Bichard replied. “You said insects give you indigestion.”

“Oh god I feel hot out here,” Chris commented, holding onto Bichard as best she could as he crawled his way back up the rocky exterior.

“Be glad that you didn’t land on the other side. Now let’s get you inside.”

“Bichard now is not the time to try and make me feel better,” she said hugging him as Drill Sergeant Korto’s shuttle pulled up alongside, firing its thrusters to maintain position with them.

“Get in the shuttle you two.”

Chris flashed him an unofficerlike hand gesture. “I respectfully decline sir. We made it, no need for a pick up.”

“I know that,” he replied, disgust in his voice. “You accomplished the goal and I am here to take you to your next assignment. Now get into the shuttle.”

“Say again,” Blazer called, shuffling over towards them so that we wouldn’t launch himself back off into space.

“You’ve accomplished the goal, now get into the shuttle,” Korto repeated.

“Lead, did everyone copy that?” Chris asked.

“Yes, we all got it Chris,” Blazer replied a moment later.

“Good, then we’re coming aboard,” Chris replied, exhaustion in her voice.

“We have medics aboard. They’ll fix you right up. They can give you something for the pain too.”

“I’ll be fine, just reset the bone,” Chris snapped.

Blazer breathed a sigh of relief and snapped his tether to a handhold, waiting for the shuttle. When it arrived, he and Deniv piled aboard. Chris and Bichard sat strapped into shock seats along the wall as medics fired medical nanobots into her suit’s injection port.

“Where are the Explosions?” Blazer asked as the shuttle lifted back off.

“They’ve already reached the ultimate goal,” sergeant Korto replied.

Blazer sighed in relief, then sat back up in disbelief. “How long ago did they get here?”

“They took a short cut.”

“How?”

UCSB DATE: 1001.023

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Singularity Base

Blazer leaned back, listening to the shuttle’s plasma engines as the pilot took a lazy orbit to their next objective. Within a few pulses of coming aboard he identified the shuttle, the harmonic resonance from its port plasma turbine belonged to shuttle 183. When he’d worked the maintenance decks the annura before he attempted to tune the engine, but no matter what, he couldn’t track down the source of that vibration.

Rubbing his sore shoulder, he looked at the medics tending to the team.  I haven’t seen a medic tending to anyone without washing them out yet, he mused.  They didn’t appear to do much though according to the readout on Blazer’s macomm, just patched up any open wounds, broken bones, or dislocated joints, like’s Deniv’s shoulder.  They left Marda’s sprained ankle and Chris’ welt untended.  No surprise there.

The whine of the shuttle’s engines changed tone after Blazer’s clock ticked off the start of the next cycle, a subtle pull of gravity greeting him as it did so. He sat back up in his seat and a moment later felt the shuttle touch down. The light above the hatch cycled from blue to red and the door slid open, revealing a barren landscape beyond.

“Out Slaglicks,” Sergeant Korto barked, and everyone complied.

Blazer had to keep from launching himself when he took his first steps and looked to the G-meter in his helmet.  “.26G” He found that curious as he looked at the horizon.  That can’t be right, this place is tiny.  He took a look up and around, noting the asteroid shell was uniform around them.  At the academy he could see how much closer it was to one side of the asteroid shell.  That left him with one inescapable conclusion.  We’re at the core of the shell. Are we at Singularity Base?

Blazer turned to Sergeant Korto as he stood in the hatch. “Are we?”

“Welcome to Singularity Base.” Korto responded and slammed the hatch shut before the shuttle lifted away.

Blazer looked around in amazement. They were standing at the heart of the asteroid shell. He scanned its horizon and found the debris disk bisecting the shell. Activating the navigation systems in his helmet, he located the academy, the landing fields and the gunnery range in the distance.

He sighed and spotted a navigation marker nearby.

“I’ve got a nav beacon this way,” Blazer pointed. “Must be ours.”

Blazer trudged off towards the beacon, careful not to step too hard and risk launching himself. A short walk later, he found an airlock jutting out of the dust. He looked about—there was nothing else in sight. Even the airlock standing before him was featureless save for a control panel and a set of red and blue lights above the portcullis. The blue light shone, the airlock had pressure.

“Gokhead get it open and get us inside,” Blazer ordered, the low gravity doing nothing to help the fatigue in his aching muscles.

Gokhead set to work examining the simple controls of the door. Tapping a key on the control pad, the airlock depressurized and the red light extinguished the blue. The door popped open before them, presenting them with a dingy white space. Gray boot prints of hundreds of feet marred the once pristine floor.

Blazer didn’t care what lay beyond, sure it would be another test and motioned the team forward. They piled into the large chamber, Arion entering last and pulling the door shut before Gokhead worked the interior controls.

A hiss of air rose around them, and within a pulse, their suits indicated a confed standard pressure with a slightly lower than normal oxygen level.  Blazer unsealed his helmet and took in a breath.  The air tasted stale, with a hint of dust and the tang of an old air cycler, but it was clean and breathable.  Sighing, he removed his helmet.  The others followed suit, and breathed in air free of their own body odors before the inner door cycled open before them.

The door swung away to reveal Trevis and Porc.  Blazer just stared at them.  Free of their suits, they stood before the team in pristine underclothes, and most amazing, clean skin.  Blazer rubbed his eyes. I’m dreaming, have to be.  The shirt on Trevis looked two sizes too small, the one on Porc three sizes too big, but his eyes did not deceive, they’re clean.

“About time you slackers showed up,” Porc said with a smile. “We’ve been here a good hect already.”

Blazer stared at the pair, unsure what to say before his lips moved without consent. “We lost Datt.”

“I be sorry to hear that,” Trevis replied with a nod, before pushing the hatch the rest of the way open to reveal the remainder of his own team.

The Blade Force looked out upon the Explosions with suspicion. Their hair, their skin, their clothes, all of it was clean. There were no sweat stains, no dirt, no blood, no mud, no feces. After the decle they had been through, it looked more alien to Blazer than anything else.

Marda stepped forward, her helmet in her hand. Her sweat-soaked hair clumped against the sides of her head. “You all look suspiciously, clean,” she remarked, airing the words on all their minds.

Trevis smiled back at them. “There be a refresher in the back corner and the locker beside it be filled with clean clothes, enough for a full squadron. They all be the same size though,” he revealed.

The Blade Force needed no more coaxing than that, and piled out of the airlock into the bunker, rushing towards the trough-shaped sink. Trevis and Porc jumped out the way just in time to avoid them.

Blazer hung back and slumped against the wall.  Thank you.  His knees threatening to give way he watched his team as they stripped out of their flightsuits and tossed them onto a bench with the Explosions’.  Blazer shook his head—modesty was not the order of the cycle as they all stripped out of their stained underclothes as well.  No one leered though as they jockeyed for position to wash themselves in the basin, sloughing away a decle’s worth of grime.

The dingy white chamber didn’t afford anything he would call privacy.  A pair of tables with low benches split the chamber.  Lockers lined one wall, access ports and maintenance screens graced the opposite one by the refresher.  Airlocks sat at either end.  I wonder what’s on the other side of door number two? As he pulled off his flightsuit, he looked back at Trevis. “So, what’s the story here? Do we have any orders?”

Trevis nodded and handed Blazer a piece of plastisheet from a tray beside the outer airlock.

From: HQ-UCSBA-13 Commander, O-85 Jerlin Sares (Admiral), O-55 Tadeh Qudas (Commander), E-9 Quavin Mir (Command Sergeant Major)

To: Special Operations Cadets

Subject: Bunker Assignment

Teams are to remain in bunker until retrieved by training and/or command personnel.  Teams will be monitored from remote location in case of emergency.  Teams are to completely assemble components located in three lockers.  Failure to do so will result in failure of test.  Teams will determine size, nature and constitution of station prior to conclusion of exercise.  Emergency release button located on Central Island.  Pressing it will end test and fail all participants in bunker.  Exiting of bunker via either airlock prior to retrieval will result in failure.  Conduct unbecoming an officer conducted inside bunker will result in failure. Teams will pass or fail test as a whole. 

Blazer read the orders twice to make sure he understood then handed them to Zithe as he approached from the refresher station. The bald dome of his head shone for the first time since their swim down in the deep ruts. Zithe took the sheet, read it, and handed it back. “So what’s in the lockers?”

“Rifles,” Trevis replied pointing at the tables, the red emergency button waiting under its glass dome in the center. “P-42-C light Plaser rifles to be more exact,” he continued.

Lind held one up in response. One whole side of the simple bullpup-style rifle sat on the table—removed to allow her to assemble the interior electronics. Blazer recognized the weapons. He had used these same rifles during his time with the Mapper’s Guild.

“How far down have they been stripped?” Blazer asked.

“I would say depot level if they be having the solder joints undone, but those be intact,” Trevis replied. “It should be taking less than a cycle to be rebuilding them. But that not be what troubles me about them.”

Blazer looked on as Marda came over, pulling her shirt back down over her head, a relieved smile upon her face after getting cleaned up. Blazer tried not to stare, he had known but hadn’t even considered that she had been nude only moments before. After a decle at such close quarters, and having to change in front of one another several times a cycle, nudity didn’t seem the taboo it once was. Seeing her clean again, he took notice of her body and felt desire begin to stir.

She looked over the orders after taking them from Zithe. “What’s so troubling, Trevis?”

“The magazines, they be fully charged.”

Blazer, Zithe and Marda exchanged nervous glances as Arion walked over, toweling off his still short hair with an extra piece of terry cloth he’d stowed in his flightsuit. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” he chimed in. “Especially if we’re in here too long. Cabin fever might set in and I’m not sure I want anyone running around with a loaded plaser rifle at that point.”

“I be agreeing with you there, so we be locking those up then?”

Blazer nodded. “I agree.”

“What about our air and water supply?” Zithe asked.

“We be having enough air and water for eight cycles and that be counting on Datt being here. Without him, a bit longer.”

“What about food and medical supplies?” Marda asked.

Trevis deferred to Telsh as she stood beside the food storage locker. “If we be figuring on eating regular meals, then we be having enough for four cycles.”

Marda looked back at Telsh. “Okay, we can easily stretch that out to eight cycles or more than.”

Telsh nodded and closed the locker after laying out ration bars for each of them.

Blazer looked back over the group when he reached the refresher station. He added his grimy underclothes to the pile and then cleaned himself up. Marda stood beside him with a fresh shirt and shorts as he washed off as fast as he could, feeling like an animal on display now that he was the last to clean up. The warm water felt so good on his skin and hair that he wanted to crawl into the basin. Not wanting to waste their water reserves though, he finished and pulled on the shirt and shorts Marda held for him.

He looked up at his companions as he cinched up the shorts and smiled. “Hey they actually fit.”

No one smiled back. He read the fatigue in everyone’s eyes, even those who sat eating their bland ration bars. This was going to be a long test.

“Okay, I think we’ve all been through enough this cycle. Let’s all bunk down where we can, and we’ll get back to it in a few hects.”

Everyone agreed and started to find open spots on the floor to lie down on.

“We should keep watches just in case they decide to start throwing things at us,” Blazer commented, stifling a yawn. “I’ll take the first watch.”

“I be joining you,” Trevis responded.

Everyone else lay down, some so close they couldn’t help but touch each other, but no one argued. There were no blankets or pillows for them in the lockers, so they slept on their arms where they could. A few pulled their soiled linens from the pile and used them to cover up their eyes. Noticing that, Trevis turned off the lights, leaving on only a dim worklight on the table they’d laid the rifles out on. The giant red button illuminated in response, calling out to them.

Blazer sat down at the worktable.  Should I cover that button up with something?  Marda sat down next to him before he could then leaned over and lay down on the bench, resting her head on his thigh.  She fell asleep in what seemed like an instant.  You amaze me, keeping up with all of us despite your pain.  He smiled down at her as he set to work, glad to provide her some measure of comfort.

For over a hect, the pair worked in relative silence, taking their time reassembling the rifles. As Trevis finished installing a power coupling, he set his rifle aside and looked up at Blazer. Blazer felt the big man looking at him, and set his weapon down as well. “What’s troubling you Trevis?”

“I just be wondering, wondering how you be doing it?”

Blazer raised an eyebrow at him. Too tired for games, he waved Trevis to continue.

“Look at the numbers Blazer. The Monstero Nach be losing fewer cadets than any other unit.”

Blazer shrugged his shoulders. “Your team is for the most part a veteran unit. You’ve already been to Sheol and back together. I’m only surprised by who you’ve lost so far.”

Trevis nodded in response. “That be surprising me as well. I really thought that Kallie be making it, and to be felled by a cramp. It be hurting us bad, worse than Samtriss, he be a maintainer before the academy. But Kallie, she be one tough soldier, it not be fair to lose her that way.

“But you, Blade Force, you only be losing two as well. That be an enviable number for any group.”

Blazer shrugged again. “I’m not quite sure what to attribute that to, really. I mean all of us had to prove ourselves to come here, you know that.”

Trevis nodded.

“Everyone here has a kill under their belt, no matter the situation that brought it about,” Blazer remarked, Lazith’s dead face flashing before him for a moment.  Never again, he thought and ran a hand through Marda’s hair.

“I understand, but the numbers.”

“I know, and I can say that the four of us,” he said indicating himself, Arion, Deniv and Bichard.  “We trained long and hard for this.  Even before we left Anul for the Navigators Guild, we would go to the holo-sim gaming center in Capben.  We would practice in scenarios my grandfather told us about, or that we read about on our own.  It was nowhere near as hard as this, and they’ve had us do things here we were never warned about.”

“I be understanding that, and I know what be happening to your team before. I read your file. That be a test to get in here sure as anything.”

“It surely was.” Blazer nodded, trying to push the incident out of his mind. “Dag, has it been a full annura since then already?”

Trevis shrugged. “But what about the others?”

Blazer looked around. “I really don’t know. Chris is still a mystery to me, but I know she has some tragedy in her past. Zithe and Rudjick—I know their first kills had something to do with the dragon corps, but I’m surprised that Rudjick has made it this far. Datt and Treb—they got lost from their squad and stumbled upon a Geffer unit. They had more kills to their names than the rest of us, and we lost them—I never figured on that. And Marda,” he said looking down at her as her head rested on his lap. “She’s been through Sheol I know that.”

“How be her injuries?”

“I’m not sure. But I know she had to have aggravated it during the jump to the academy. Chris got patched up by the medics on the way here. But, that welt on her side will be with her a while,” he said and looked over at Chris, the injury showing in the gap between her shirt and shorts.

Trevis looked over at Marda. “You be having feelings for Marda don’t you?”

Blazer nodded and felt Marda’s hair.  “Yes I do.  I can honestly say I love her and I don’t know if I can really say the same anymore about any other woman I’ve even been with.”  A shudder of guilt ran up his spine in response.  I loved Lazith, but not like I love Marda.  This is more, this is real, and I don’t think Lazith would object to that.  Blazer caught a subtle glance from Trevis towards Telsh and couldn’t help but ask. “You and Telsh?”

“It not be love the way you be thinking of love.  Tomeris love be all about breeding stronger kin and kids, and some cycle she and I be doing just that.  But now not be that time.  Our blocks still be in and will still be in until we decide it be time.  Funny, our families be more inclined to let us breed prior to the academy. But after we be graduating, our breeding potential be even higher.”

“About that, what’s up with Telsh’s name? I thought all Tomeris names were six letters long, the whole combination of parents name thing.”

Trevis stifled a laugh. “Most don’t know that, but Telsh,” he said looking back at her. “Her sire be disgraced, so her mother be cutting his vowel from her name. Otherwise her name be Telash, after her mother Telsin and sire Ashkil.”

Blazer nodded, figuring that to be the case. “What about Chertsin and Saldray?”

“Chertsin and Saldray be only half Telshin, on their mother’s sides. They be keeping with tradition otherwise, Chertsin’s sire be Chertinair of Polain, Anul and his mother Kalsin of Kaldig, Tomer. She be a cousin to Telsh’s mother, but don’t be mentioning that around her. She be considering it a bigger insult than her siring. Saldray’s parents be Saldkang of Bontock, Anul and Kimray of Haplig, Tomer.”

Blazer wasn’t prepared for that, forgetting for a moment how much genealogy played into Tomeris society. “What about how you got here ahead of us?”

Trevis’ laughed slipped out that time, “we be hitching a ride.”

Blazer raised a curious eyebrow in response.

“When we be figuring what the real goal be, we be deciding not to be making the jump to the academy.  So we be jumping to grab the observer’s shuttle opposite Korto’s.  Two of us be missing it, but we be taking it to grab them,” he explained with a wry smile.

Before they could say anything more, Bichard, Zithe and Porc sat bolt upright. The trio looked around, then rolled over, covering their heads and ears.

“Incoming,” Zithe called.

Not questioning them, the pair doubled over on the benches, covering their own heads, the sudden motion waking Marda up.  She shielded her ears as well when she noticed Blazer’s position.  The entire bunker shook a moment later and everyone awakened.  As the shaking subsided, everyone raced into action, checking the nearest control panels, to assess their status.

“Check the pressure,” Trevis ordered.

Zithe was on his feet first and scanned the console beside the airlock. “Pressure is holding, but I am getting a radiation spike outside.”

“How much?” Marda asked.

“Levels inside are fine, but if we were outside we’d be baked by now,” he replied indicating the radiation levels as they soared into the danger zone outside.

Blazer scanned the seams in the old prefab walls. “I want a manual check of all the seals. They could have been damaged but haven’t blown yet.” He grabbed one of the riflescopes, checked the model number, and tossed it to Deniv over by the hatch. “Use this, set it to macro and search for micro fissures too. The leaks may be small enough not to be noticed yet, let’s move.” Blazer turned to Gavit as he lay next to the generator console. “Gavit, how are our power reserves?”

“The generator and reserves are still in the blue, we’re good to go here.”

“Zithe, check the status of the air tanks and recyclers.”

Zithe keyed in the request. “Tank pressures and quantities are unchanged, recyclers are in the blue.”

“The water tanks and cleansers be in the blue as well,” Telsh reported, checking the console beside the refresher station, as others searched the chamber for any damage.

“Does anyone have any idea what just happened?” Blazer asked.

Everyone shook their heads except Gokhead as he examined the radiation report from outside. “Based on these radiological readings, I would say it was a reaction weapon.”

Everyone stopped and stared at him, disbelief on their faces. No major faction inside the Confederation used reaction weapons. They were however the dominate warhead of the Galactic Federation.

“It could be another simulation though,” Gokhead continued.

In response, a howling screech answered him over the PA system.

“Oh what is that?” Gavit yelled over the noise.

“It sounds like Tak Birds,” Marda replied, sliding closer to Blazer.

Gokhead shook his head. “It’s another test. They’ll use this and other stimuli to wear down our nerves. See how we react.

Blazer felt Marda’s hand in his.  Not sure I like the sound of that. Shreg Marda has a phobia of Taks. She said they’d attacked her as a girl.

“They’ll likely hit us with various stimuli, stop for other periods. It will be completely random,” Gokhead explained.

Blazer looked around the room.  The screaming of the Tak birds seemed to have no source; there were no visible speakers in or on the wall.  “We’ll deal with it on the dawn,” he hollered.  Best not to say that the sounds could come from the fears in our psych profiles.

Everyone looked back at him.

“We all need to get some kind of rest now.” Blazer looked over at his helmet and survival kit as it lay with the rest, Marda’s hand now trembling. “I don’t know about you, but I know I have something in my kit that will help block out the sound.”

Blazer hustled over and pulled out the earplugs and survival blanket from his kit. He helped Marda fit the earplugs first, and felt his hearts lighten as she smiled back at him.

The others got the idea and did the same. Some even folded up their flightsuits to use as pillows. Then, everyone lay back down for a fitful sleep, Zithe and Porc standing the next watch.

UCSB DATE: 1001.024

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Singularity Base

Blazer could feel everyone’s nerves fraying as the test in the bunker continued. The close quarters weren’t so much the issue for most of them, but it was impossible to ignore the randomly changing psychological warfare directed at them. Sometimes it was just sound; at other times the lights would flicker, often at nausea-inducing frequencies and colors. Foul smelling gasses flowed in on occasions and most disturbing, the bunker would rock as if the whole planetoid were coming apart. Each stimulus could last for hects or just a few pulses. Even the breaks between stimuli were random in duration, keeping everyone on edge. It began to fray even the most solid of nerves.

Focusing on a task seemed to help the most. Within two cycles, everyone had field stripped the rifles at least twice. Blindfolded fieldstripping when the lights would act up became something that even Blazer looked forward to. Zithe and Arion led the others in meditation and exercise routines, often turning them into competitions. Others busied themselves with maintenance of the shelter or cleaning their old clothes and flightsuits. No one knew when they might need them again.

Blazer found himself at the main table with Gokhead, Gavit, Chris, and couple of the Explosions. They were taking advantage of the rare silence in the shelter to focus on determining the nature of the planetoid. Blazer looked over the numbers again, checking them against Gokhead’s. They had limited data on the planetoid and all of it proved confusing.

Chris held up her macomm for all to see. “I’m telling you these are the numbers.”

Gokhead shook his head. “No, your numbers make no sense.”

Chris shuddered with anger but remained seated. “Look, assuming we really are where Korto said, then we have knowns and we have unknowns. What we know is the radius of this rock, a little over 335 kimet. We’ve seen and measured it while out on maneuvers. We also saw and measured the curvature of it with our helmet cameras, when we were on the outer surface. We know the gravitational pull here is a quarter standard G.”

“We also have the density measurements to twenty-five kimet deep that I took while on maneuvers, which your numbers fail to take into account,” Gokhead snapped back. “You accept every other number I give you, but not those.”

“What else could it be, Gokhead?” Chris replied, referencing her earlier theory, throwing up her hands. “I know you said you’d memorized the numbers from when we shot by this place on maneuvers and I want to believe you. But look at the gravitational pull here,” she held up her macomm and dropped it. It fell straight down and she didn’t even have to rush to catch it. “Even the instruments in our suit agree that we are under one quarter standard gravity here. We prove it every pulse that we’re here.” Her wild hand gestures threatened to throw her out of her seat before she grabbed onto the bench. “So how can you tell me that my density numbers are wrong?”

Gokhead raised an eyebrow at her and shook his head. “The name of the place reveals it all. Singularity Base, not Neutronium Base, which would be about the only thing that would match your density numbers,” he explained, implying that the base could not be made of the degenerate matter of collapsed neutron stars.

“Not this again. You really think there’s a micro-singularity at the center of this planetoid? It would have eaten up this place ages ago!”

Gavit shook his head at that one. “Chris, you obviously haven’t been through the Kaveres Sector.”

“No I haven’t been through the Kaveres sector. I’m not as widely traveled as some of you,” she sneered.

Blazer cleared his throat at the head of the table, drawing their attention.  “Let’s calm down, people.  This is the first time in two cycles that we’ve had some extended peace and quiet. So let’s use it to our advantage and try not to kill each other. Now, why are we even talking about the Kaveres Sector?”

Gavit sighed. “I’ve been through Kaveres. It’s known as one of the most dangerous sectors out there, and it’s filled with micro-singularities. Most are only a few nanometra across and the largest I’ve ever heard of was a little over three micrometra. But, each one had some significant gravitational pull. If you weren’t shielded, they would crash right through your ship. If they hit something nice and dense they would take up residence and collapse your ship in upon itself.”

I remember now.  The theory goes that the Kaveres had even more micro-singularities long ago, but they’d eventually dissipated because they were too small.  But there’s nothing habitable there, heck, no planets at all, just a whole lot of asteroid fields that might have been planets at one point.  “Okay, so you think there’s a micro-singularity at the heart of this place?”

“Gokhead does and I’m beginning to agree with him. It makes more sense than Chris’s neutronium crust theory,” Gavit replied.

“How, how, how?” Chris asked. “There have been so few cases of micro-singularities occurring outside of the Kaveres sector to make the idea laughable. Most are made in labs to kickstart fusion reactors. You’re telling me there’s a micro-singularity at the heart of this place, and I don’t buy it.”

Gokhead threw up his hands in frustration before he turned to her. “You’ve seen my notes. I’ve dated the carbonates out in the asteroid shell. The figures match with this asteroid field only being a little over a millennia old.”

Chris rolled her eyes at that comment.

“Think about it Chris, what happened a millennia ago?”

“The Confederation was formed, so what?”

“And what predated that?”

“The Vedekian war,” she answered, trailing off. “And the Vedekian Horde was known for using micro-singularity bombs, something no race has been able to safely develop since.”

Blazer felt his eyes widen.  Son of a… I hadn’t even considered that.

“Exactly. Somehow, this race that hadn’t even developed hyperspace travel, was able to create the most devastating weapon in history,” Gokhead explained. “A weapon we’ve not seen since the age of the ancients, nor since. Every attempt to make or harness a micro-singularity bomb has resulted in severe devastation.”

Porc held up a hand. “Um, you know I’m really crap at history. Does someone want to fill me in what a singularity bomb is?”

Blazer looked at him dumbstruck. Every vid about the Vedekian Horde he’d ever seen mentioned the Singularity Bombs. “The singularity bomb was the Vedekian’s ultimate weapon,” Blazer began. “When they deemed a world unsuitable for them, or too much trouble, they would deploy singularity bombs to destroy it. The Drashig were lucky to avoid getting hit by one after they revolted.”

Gokhead nodded in response.

“The singularity bomb is better known now as a planet buster. The Vedekian would fire them into a planet or into a high-speed low orbit. Once activated, you would have the mass of a small moon either tear through your planet or flying right above it. There was a trail of destroyed worlds leading back to what we think might be the Vedekian homeworld, but we’re still not sure. Heck, it might even explain this asteroid shell.”

“Wow,” Porc commented, his eyes wide. “I wouldn’t mind dropping one of those on the Terrans.”

Blazer shuddered at the comment. “You can’t be serious.”

“I was joking, I swear.”

“Your attempts at humor are really starting to bug people, Porc,” Blazer scolded.

Porc shook his head and pushed back from the table, crossing his arms in defiance. “I don’t care if it’s against UCSB policy or not to attack homeworlds like that. I was just trying to make a joke and lighten the mood. You all are way too uptight.”

Blazer shook his head. “Anyway, Gokhead, let’s hear your theory.”

“Easy. In most cases, the singularity bomb would dissipate after use. They were not known for their stability, after all. However, there are numerous cases, especially in the Kaveres sector, where the singularities remained.”

Gavit nodded. “There’s a running theory that the Vedekian developed the bombs in the Kaveres Sector, and the micro-singularities left there are either remnants from tests, or they’re leftovers from what they gathered up to make the planet busters.”

“Exactly,” Gokhead continued. “So if what we have here is the remnant of a singularity weapon, then the numbers work better. If we assume a density consistent with most planetoids of this size, 20.85 kilobar per cubic metra. Then, knowing the radius of 335 kilometra we get a mass of the planetoid of only 3.29 times ten to the fifteenth tons. That’s far too low for the gravity here,” he said holding up his macomm and showing the group.

Everyone nodded their understanding.

“So we know that we need to have 1.26 times ten to the seventeenth tons to get the right gravitational potential. A micro-singularity with an event horizon of 273 nanometra would give us an activated mass of 1.24 times ten to the seventeenth tons.”

The equations he displayed on his macomm all worked and made sense to Blazer. Even Chris began to nod along.

“That will give us a micro-singularity large enough to consume quite a bit, but small enough that it will take it a few millennia to eat the entire planetoid.”

“You’re still making a lot of assumptions, though,” Chris replied. “What about the radiation? We should be getting cooked from all the X-rays coming off that thing.”

“This is the best I can do without proper scanners.  But my density takes into account some deep iron, and lead deposits to absorb the radiation.  All of which is consistent with the background radiation we saw upon arrival.  If I had the kind of equipment I needed to make a proper survey, I would have even more accurate numbers, and someone like you wouldn’t be arguing with me.”

“Calm down, Gokhead,” Blazer said, waving him and Chris both back into their seats. “Do we agree with Gokhead’s assessment?”

Everyone nodded, even Chris. “Yes, but it’s still making some pretty big assumptions,” she added. “And, it’s requiring a lot of faith in those assumptions.”

Gokhead shook his head again and turned away in frustration. 

“Don’t start, Gokhead. Look, it’s our best, most logical guess,” Blazer commented. “But it is just that, and I agree the name of the base is the key. I believe that there’s a micro-singularity at the core, too. I’ve looked at the radiation readings from before they lit off that reaction warhead. It all correlates with there being a miniature black hole a few hundred klicks beneath our feet.”

“Nice catch, boss,” Gavit commented.

Blazer cringed at that comment. It wasn’t because he was fighting being the leader anymore, but because he could see Zithe twitch in response to it, even sitting in his meditative state.

He waved Gavit from saying anything further. “Okay then, Gokhead, stitch that back to the instructors, and let’s see what they say.”

Gokhead sent their calculations with a right-handed smile. He made sure to include all of their measurements and instructions back to the academy.

Bichard then sat up in the corner, drawing Blazer’s attention. He set his macomm aside and scanned the chamber with his own antennae straight up and wildly twitching.

“What’s going on, big bug?”

“I’m picking up strange transmissions,” he replied, feeling his antennae. “It’s odd. It’s not a standard confed link.”

Before Bichard could explain further, an in-rush of air from the main door sent everyone’s eyes pointing at it in search of whoever had opened that portal, failing them all.  What they found was not a frustrated cadet pulling the hatch open but instead a Galactic Federation Shock Trooper in full armor pushing the hatch open while his three companions stormed the bunker. The cadets froze for a moment in stunned silence, the four troopers in black studded armor with their weapons poised, in marked contrast to the almost unclothed cadets.

“Don’t move, get down on the floor. Legs and arms spread, and no one has to die,” the one with sergeant’s chevrons on his shoulder hollered.

Blazer flashed a look at Trevis and nodded. The cadets feigned compliance, holding their hands up. Blazer and the others at the table made a show of getting up from their seats before jumping into action.

Falling back on their training, Blazer and Gokhead kicked the table over and ducked behind it. Chris dove behind with them as Telsh slid two rifles over, and skidded up beside it with the third. The shock troopers screamed at them while Trevis tossed the magazines over from across the chamber, by the lockers. Gokhead caught the power packs and gave them to Blazer, Chris and Telsh. Hearts racing, Blazer slammed the magazine into his rifle and checking to make sure the others had as well, jumped into action.

Chris leapt up, while Blazer and Telsh rolled out from either end of the table and opened fire. Blazer drilled three rounds into the lead shock trooper, a tiny voice inside him cheering the murderer’s demise. Chris and Telsh downed the next two troopers in the same moment. Before Telsh could engage the rearmost of the troopers, he managed to get a shot off.

Blazer’s went wide in horror as the single blast caught Gavit square in the chest. Gavit slumped down the deck, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Marda rushed to Gavit’s aid as the others hurried towards the troopers. She passed a medical scanner over him several times then turned to Blazer, her face a mask of confusion. “It was a stun blast. He’ll wake up in a bit.”

"These are all set on stun," Arion exclaimed after he snatched one of the Shock Troopers rifles away. “I’ve never heard of Shock Troopers setting their weapons to stun.”

“Neither have I,” Zithe commented, setting one of the weapons back to full power before he brought it up to a ready position. “If there are shock troops here, then I think our test is over. Let’s go find out what’s going on.” Then he paused and looked back at the shock troopers. He took a long whiff from the wound in the man’s chest. “He smells wrong.”

“How so?” Blazer asked.  This makes no sense, Shock Troopers always carry slug throwers.

“I’m not sure. But they don’t smell like any Terrans I’ve ever encountered before.”

Zithe reached down to remove one of the trooper’s helmets. As he grabbed the neck ring of the dead man’s helmet Deniv stopped him. “Stop, look at his neck. There’s enough explosive packed in there to take his head off and your arm with it.”

Blazer stood up with his rifle.  That sounds right at least. “Everyone, grab your armor off your flightsuits. It won’t be much but at least it’ll keep your core safe.”

“What are you thinking, Blazer?” Zithe sneered from the door.

Blazer didn’t have time to play politics here and didn’t care if it upset Zithe. “If there are Shock Troops, the Geffers are here. If those four don’t check in soon, their commander will send someone out looking for them. So we need to move.”

“I be agreeing with Blazer,” Trevis added.

“Trevis, I’ll defer to your judgment on this one,” Blazer replied and stepped aside.

“That be the right thinking. Be doing as Blazer says, grab your armors, and whatever weapon you can.”

No one argued and made quick work of slipping on their armored vests and snatching their boot knives. A few even smashed the tables to make clubs from their legs while Bichard fashioned a pair of swords with his resin, handing them off before making two more for himself. Trevis then handed the rifles to their seven best shoots.

“The shooters be taking point, the rest of you to rear.  We be moving quick and quiet.  If there be a hangar here, we get ourselves a transport or shuttle, then blast off this rock. The whole academy likely be captured at this point.”

That caught Blazer by surprise, and he turned to Trevis. “But we have friends and instructors there,” Blazer protested as he watched Chris help Gavit to his feet. His hands and neck still twitched as Marda gave him an injection to get him mobile.

“And they be knowing the risks.  I say our best bet be to let the Confederation know what be going on here.”

Blazer considered that.  He’s right, we’re in no shape for a stand up fight.  Maybe if we can get some more gear, but…

“Porc, Zithe you be on point,”

The two complied without question and rushed up the hallway ahead of the rest of the squadron. Zithe kept his rifle tight against his shoulder as he ran and Porc, a Nerzain, extended the natural metallic claws in his hands. The others followed a short distance behind them. Blazer had to resist the urge to curse when they disappeared from view around a bend in the tunnel.

The sound of plaser fire erupted an instant later.

Blazer threw himself against the wall and blinked hard. He looked at the others as they waited alongside him and edged his way along the corridor. Tired as he was, he knew better than to run headlong into a trap. With Trevis in the lead, he reached the end of the tunnel and the large foyer it opened onto.

Blazer peeked around the corner.  A spiral staircase extended down from the ceiling in the center of the room, and more hallways extended out, a number marking each.  Beside the staircase lay the prone bodies of Zithe and Porc.  He watched them for a moment and spotted the scorch marks of multiple stun blasts on their flesh as they took several irregular breaths.  They didn’t go down quick.

Blazer scooted back towards Trevis. “What do you think now?”

“It be an ambush. If those corridors be leading to other bunkers, then they already be subduing those cadets. Otherwise, they be having soldiers here. They knew we be coming. Something about this just smells.”

Blazer nodded. “I know, but what do we do?”

Trevis shook his head. “I wish I be knowing, boy.”

Standing across from Blazer, Telsh pointed across to one of the other passageways. The dim red light of a Shock Trooper’s eye lenses flashed at them. “There be one there for sure, and he be seeing us.”

“They knew we be here long before that, chromo,” he replied using a Tomeris term of endearment meant to compliment her genes. “If we go out there, we be heading into a kill zone.”

“So what do you think? Head back?” Blazer asked. “Try our luck on the surface?”

“Aye, that be making sense.”

Before they could pass the word, the sound of something bouncing off the wall beside Trevis drew Blazer’s eyes. He turned just in time to watch a stun grenade detonate in front of him. Low energy plasma burst free, engulfing them, and the concussion threw him against the wall. The smell of singed flesh and burnt hair reached his nose as he staggered there.

Clinging to consciousness, he raised his rifle as everyone around him fell.  Shunt it away, stupid.  Blazer pumped the excess energy into the only receptacle he could—his rifle—as he began to fall back. His knees threatened to give out as he took a knee beside Marda. Her breathing came in ragged gasps. He had slipped an arm under her to try and carry her away when the sound of booted feet echoed towards him. He looked up just in time to meet his mother’s last sight, the barrel of a Shock Trooper’s rifle filling his view. He dragged his weapon back up, his left hand arcing with lightning as the Trooper’s rifle discharged.

Anul System, Anul, Capben University

Unaware of the trials her brother and friends were facing, Jell Vaughnt headed away from campus after she’d finished the last of her classes.  She didn’t care what Blazer was up to at the academy.  She hated the Space Forces, blaming them for the death of her parents, and couldn’t understand why Blazer didn’t. She hated overhearing conversations from people thinking of going into the service to earn their Confederacy.

It didn’t matter to her—she was a full citizen and didn’t care if she could vote or not. She didn’t want to give up her freedom even for a little while to earn what she saw as just a few extra privileges. She would make her way in the universe by her own rules, and show them that she could be even more successful than the others.

Heading away from campus, Jell looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, the shadow her grandfather ordered was still there.

Why doesn’t he trust me? What did he think I’m getting into? I’m a grown woman now. I get good grades and have never done anything to make him think I’m up to no good. It’s not like I’m some drugged up floosy! So what if I hit the clubs, that’s my right.

Yet his dogs still follow me everywhere. Deny it all you want, old man. At least those blasted orbs left with Blazer. I bet he has them watching him and reporting back too.

She touched the tiny music player in her ear. The contact points touching her finger activated a subsonic device within that tricked her visual cortex into displaying the control menu. She turned up the volume to drown out the sound of the hover vehicles and trollies on the street, before selecting another song, and dropped her hand. She danced around in response to the new song and put eyes on her shadow.

Oh my god, he’s not even subtle.  His clothes were beyond nondescript in their lack of markings, a stark contrast to the students and others walking along the street.  Those shirts are so three annura ago, only a fleet rat would wear them.

She danced around again, making herself obvious to the shadow. She was supposed to meet her friends soon, and she didn’t want him following. The macomm her grandfather had given her had a tracking beacon, but not so the one she’d bought herself. She didn’t even give the old man its ident code. Tracking it would be next to impossible for him, without a legal order.

As she approached the intersection, she reached into her pocket and deactivated her grandfather’s macomm.  The tracking beacon would remain active, though, even with the device powered down, unless she did something to stop it. So she did just that, draining its power cell into herself.

She felt a small wriggle up her arm in response, and danced around again to see if the shadow had noticed.  He hadn’t, but as she glanced back once again, she saw him moving, pushing his way up through the crowded street.  Might as well wear a sign.

She smiled, knowing this was her chance, and looked down the street to see a trolley coming. It wouldn’t stop here, but that wasn’t about to keep Jell from boarding it. As it approached, she shed her bright-colored jacket with the dead macomm still inside the pocket. In a different shirt than the one she’d left home in, she blended in with the crowd and ran to the back of the trolley.

She leapt aboard and stood on the rear deck, watching, as her shadow shoved his way to the corner and found her jacket. She couldn’t hide her giddiness as he looked about, frantic in a vain search for her, as she slid into a seat at the rear of the trolley. She pulled up the hood of her shirt to conceal her hair. The trolley driver looked at her in the rear view mirror, and she held up her macomm in response. A holographic trolley pass emerged, one that her grandfather couldn’t trace. She had escaped her shadow, and now the duwn was hers.

Anul, Capben, Slub Soren

A few blocks later, Jell hopped off the trolley and switched to another. This one made a circuit all around Capben, diving in and around the campus at several points. As it reached the outermost point of its loop, she leapt off. Capben was a very progressive city, and it didn’t have many bad areas. This was one of the few, the one where the best clubs called home.

Some of the clubs were seedy and dark, not the kind of place she wanted to go. A few were high-end exclusive clubs. She had no chance of getting into those without compromising herself to the bouncer at the door. So she headed to one of the nicer midrange clubs, one that she and her friends could get into without much trouble.

She hopped up to the bouncer at the door, flashed her ID, and also flashed her eyes at him. He waved her in ahead of the rest of the people in line. She never had to wait to get into this club. She had a class with the bouncer and shared her class notes with him so that he only had to take off work for tests. She found her friends inside, each of them having the same deal. Drinks in hand, they made their way onto the dance floor, teasing the men around them.

Jell rushed to the bar a hect later for more drinks.  Sure enough, that cute Energy Gatherer bartender was working this duwn.  Does he know that I’m an energy gatherer too?   The light shows he puts on behind the bar and the little shock charges he puts into people’s drinks make it pretty obvious.

She always pretended that the shock jolted her as much as everyone else, but she could take a charge ten times that before it would affect her in any way. She waited at the end of the bar as he served drinks to a handful of aliens, admiring how his tight pants hugged his backside. He took his time making his way down the bar towards her, serving others along the way.

He was cute, funny, and from what she could tell, smart also.  He’s a few annura older, but I like my men with a little extra “seasoning.”  The guys at school are so naïve about everything.  He handed some guy a beer, then looked up at her and smiled before heading down to her, skipping several other patrons.  Good, he’s coming straight to me.  He mixed her usual drink as he went.  She never took her eyes off him and smiled when he ran his finger around the rim, charging the mix for her.

She took the drink with a smile and took a quick swig of it, intending to play it coy. The shock was far more than normal and she staggered for a moment in surprise. She looked at him, shocked. “Little stronger than normal, don’t you think?”

He smiled that roguish grin she loved so much. “I have a theory, and I think you just confirmed it.”

Jell tried to regain her composure.  She rolled her shoulders and leaned up against the bar, letting him get a good look down her dress.  Go ahead and look, she thought.  “What’s that?”

He took a quick glance before locking eyes with her.  He has such intense eyes.

“If you weren’t an Energy Gatherer that charge would have floored you,” he remarked.

She tried to play coy, bringing her hand to her lips as she batted her eyes at him. “And if I wasn’t you would have just knocked me on my ass with that charge.”

“I was sure. I’ve seen you discharging sometimes, on the dance floor.”

Jell considered that for a moment. Have I been discharging again? I can’t remember the last time I did that.  She used to have a problem with that, gathering too much energy and having to dissipate it.  Trying not to let on too much, she turned to look back at the dance floor.  She let the lights frame her silhouette before turning back to him, sure that he he was taking a good look.  “Well, maybe.”

He pulled out his macomm and held it up. She knew what that meant. She pulled out her own and touched it to his. “Give me a call sometime,” he said. “I get off at midduwn.”

She looked over at the clock and grimaced. “I can’t stay that long. I have a test, next cycle.”

He scoffed at that. “Students.”

“Hey, at least I’m not going to be serving drinks my whole life.”

He smiled that roguish grin back at her. “I’m putting myself through school too, almost done, as a matter of fact. I wouldn’t be out partying, like you and your friends, if I had a test to study for.”

“Well, if you’re going to be like that, maybe I should leave.”

He held up a hand. “No, I didn’t mean that. I like seeing you here.”

“Well then, maybe next cycle. What time do you start work? I could see you after my test.”

He looked at the clock. “I work some long hects, get in around twenty.”

“Okay. I’ll call you around fourteen, and we can get together.”

He smiled back at her. “I like the sound of that, see you then.”

Jell leaned in like she was going to try and kiss him, then grabbing her drink, pulled away, and ran back to the dance floor.  Sure that he was watching her now, she gyrated on the brightly lit deck with her friends.  She performed her most suggestive gyrations whenever she noticed him watching and smiled when his eyes lingered on her as a result.

***

Hects later, the bartender made his way to the storeroom in the back, where the noise of the club couldn’t penetrate, and pulled out his macomm. He tapped the stud on the end, and selected the link he wanted to contact from the holographic display, but no one answered. He didn’t expect them to. Instead, he left a message. “Contact made. Will meet with subject next cycle. She has no idea that I have been observing her. Contact will allow for closer observation and possible control over her movements.” He signed off the macomm, sliding it back into his pocket, before grabbing two bottles, and heading back to the bar.

UCSB DATE: 1001.025

Location: Unknown, Detention Block

Pain ripped through every nerve in Blazer’s body as he regained consciousness, threatening to knock him out again.  His head, neck and chest felt the worst, as the pain in his limbs subsided.  How many times did they stun me?  The electrolytic fluid layer beneath his skin felt wrong, and itched.  His mouth and eyes felt as dry as a desert.

He forced his eyes open and stared at metal coils supporting the bunk above him. The coils didn’t make any sense; nothing made any sense at the moment. His head felt as if it was filled with a dense fog. He managed to roll his head away from the wall and saw Arion there. He didn’t know what to make of that, either.

The little bit he could make out of the dank cell, thanks to the dim glow panels, reminded him of something out of an ancient castle. Blazer rolled onto his side and kicked his feet out over the edge of the bunk. Movement hurt, and he regretted the motion, but he began to push himself up just the same.

“Take it slow, B,” Arion called out from the bunk opposite him. Arion looked like he hadn’t been affected at all.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s the effects of the stun blast. You’ve been out of it for a while.”

“What happened?” Blazer asked. His head swum and his stomach lurched. He almost toppled over. Grabbing the sides of the bunks above and below him, he managed to stabilize himself.

“You shouldn’t be talking so much yet. Wait for the effects to wear off a bit more.”

Blazer shook his head, and fought off the resulting wave of nausea.  “No, where are we?” he asked, swallowing bile.   The walls looked constructed of simple brick and mortar.  The only light came from a series of glow panels along the floor. The door was just as primitive, a solid steel plate with smaller doors at the foot and eye levels. It stood opposite the small combined sink/toilet and along the two walls were two pairs of bunks. The room wasn’t big enough for four people to stand in, but he doubted his captors cared.

“We not be sure,” Trevis answered from the bunk above Blazer. “All I be knowing is, that they ambushed us.”

“What’s our status?”

“The others be in cells adjacent to our own.”

Blazer saw the image of the barrel in his face again—and shivered. It was just like the security footage he’d once managed to find of his mother’s death. It hit too close to home. Blazer looked around the room again as his head cleared. “Where in Drig’s name are we?”

“Like Trevis said, we don’t know.”

Blazer couldn’t make sense of it. If the Galactic Federation had captured them, they would be on a ship somewhere on their way to a prison, not some stone dungeon. “Could we still be in Singularity Base?”

“No, gravity’s too high,” Arion replied, picking up a metal plate from his bunk. He dropped it and it clattered to the deck a moment later. “Hard to say, but I figure we’re around four-fifths standard gravity. So that would place us…

“On a Terran base or colony?” Blazer groaned.

“That would make sense. They tend not to settle on planets with gravity too different from theirs.”

“I don’t get it. We were only in that bunker for what, two cycles? Do you really think they could have taken the academy that quickly?”

“I not be knowing for sure,” Trevis replied, climbing down from the bunk above. “But two cycles without contact. It be possible, if they be bringing in a large enough force. The Academy not be so heavily defended from outside, we be seeing that when Vampire Group attacked us. I doubt they’d even attempt to take it again, probably just torpedo it into submission, if they didn’t destroy it outright.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“And Singularity Base, I not be knowing enough to even guess, it seems like it be falling fast.”

“So is everyone else okay?” Blazer asked, his stomach twisting in disgust.

“Yeah,” Arion answered. “For the most part everyone is holding up. We’ve been using the Corether taps to stay in communication.”

“You best be teaching my people that.”

“We will, Trevis,” Blazer sighed. “If we get out of this.”

“That be a damn near unbreakable code to my ears.”

Blazer cocked his head to the side. “Any idea what’s going to happen?”

“Not yet,” Trevis replied.

A tapping reverberated through the stone wall, and Arion held up a hand to silence them both. He focused all his attention on listening, before tapping back the same message, then waited for an affirmative before he proceeded. He ran across the room to the wall beside Blazer and began to tap out the message again. He waited for the next room to tap it back and after confirming that it was the same, tapped back the affirmative. He sat back down on his bunk after he’d finished.

“What’s the word, big guy?” Blazer asked, his mind still too foggy to translate the message himself.

“You’re not going to like it.”

“How so?”

“Bichard overheard the guards and picked up a weak transmission confirming it. They’ve ordered in mind probes.”

That’s got to be the understatement of the annura.   Mind probes, especially Galactic Federation ones in particular, were crude implements.  These weren’t telepaths or psionics sifting through a person’s memories with practiced skill.  These machines acted more like jack hammers that tore apart the subject’s brain, examining it for bits of gold.  Psychological scarring was a common result, and resistance only increased the pain and potential for damage.

"What we be needing now, be information on our prison so we can formulate a plan," Trevis commented.

Blazer nodded. "Right, and the only way we'll get that information is for someone to be taken from their cell..."

As if in response, the metal door of the cell sprang open. It slammed against the inner wall with a hard clank. High intensity light from outside streaked in and blinded the trio, forcing them to cover their eyes, and two guards moved in, their forms silhouetted against the blinding white light. They grabbed hold of Blazer, still too weak to resist, and dragged him away.

Location: Unknown, Interrogation Chamber

Several hects later, the webbing harness of the interrogation frame in which Blazer hung dug into his skin. The screams of his fellow squad mates in other chambers penetrated the pristine white walls, the near surgical cleanliness of the suite a distinct contrast to his cell.

The mind probes weren’t ready, so the guards had resorted to older techniques, beating information out of the cadets. The torturers in the chambers were experts at their jobs. Blazer’s brought him to the edge of his pain threshold and held him there until he relented or passed out. Blazer refused to cooperate, remaining defiant against every question. From the sounds in the other chambers, the others were as well. Each time he resisted the interrogators’ questions, the torturers stepped in. They had found Blazer’s most obvious weakness earlier and, by exploiting it, they were slowly killing him.

He hung exhausted in the harness after the latest session. They had drained away so much of the electric charge stored in the electrolytic layer under his skin that he had trouble breathing. His head felt like it massed a ton as he looked at his torturer, fondling a torture device well-designed for Blazer. It looked like a cattle prod, but instead of delivering a shock, it extracted electricity, draining it away in the most painful way possible.

It was an old torture method which had been used against Energy Gatherers like him, and he found it to be an effective one.  He had discharged so much energy into that device that he had started to lose sensation in his hands and feet.  Each breath felt more painful than the last as his hearts’ beating weakened with each passing extraction.  Have they exhausted my electrolytic layer to the point that they’re draining the electrical impulses that power my other organs too?

The interrogator stooped in front of Blazer. His neat, slicked-back hair and dark businesslike suit contrasted with the rest of the room. Even the torturer stood in what looked much like surgical wear. But this interrogator looked like some kind of high-powered businessman, and his deep flawless voice set Blazer even more on edge than the prod resting on his back. “This can all be over, cadet. Just tell us what we want to know.”

Blazer’s eyes scraped in his sockets as he looked up.  That’s not a good sign.  “Cadet First Annura, Schan Vaughnt...”

The interrogator stood, signaling to the torturer, and Blazer felt the prod drive into his back again. His world exploded with pain again, with more electrical energy being robbed from his body.

Blazer screamed. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. As the prod pulled away, he slumped back into the harness. He’d never discharged this much in his life, didn’t even know he had this level of reserves within him. His breath came in ragged gasps, his hearts slowing, his brain muddled.

“Come now, cadet, we don’t want to have to kill you,” the interrogator soothed, cocking his head to one side and popping his neck. “You are such a fine specimen, good to study, and learn how you do what you do.”

Blazer tried to look up at him, but couldn’t. He managed to loll his head to one side and wheeze, “No.”

It was weak, but it was all the defiance he could muster. They jabbed the prod into his back again. A universe of pain engulfed him, and then it faded. He lost sensation, first in his toes and fingers. The loss raced to his core and his head, and then he felt nothing. He didn’t even twitch under the prod and collapsed back into the webbing; the last sensation he felt was his lungs burning with each tiny breath.

Location: Unknown, Detention Block

The door to Marda’s cell flung open, the light from outside blinding her and Chris as they sat there. “Step back,” one of the guards called, before they dumped Blazer’s limp body into the cell.

He slammed down hard onto the stone floor, both women staring in disbelief at his inert form.  Marda’s hearts froze at the scene.  As the door closed, Marda jumped down to examine him.  She rolled him onto his back, found his face cut and bloodied by the impact.  She pried his eyes open and saw only the whites.  The eyes were dry.  She shivered and checked his mouth.  Again, it was dry.  She squeezed his hands.  The electrolytic layer beneath felt hard, and his skin wasn’t pliable, as it should be.  She put her ear to his chest.  Messiah preserve him.

Marda listened to the faint heartbeats then looked up at Chris. “Help me get him up on a bunk.”

Chris complied and helped her lift Blazer onto one of the lower bunks. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s in the early stages of Tem Sickness, best I can figure.” Marda choked on the words and looking up at Chris saw that she didn’t understand. “It’s an Energy Gatherer’s disease. It happens when an Energy Gatherer blows out too much of their energy reserves. Feel his skin.”

Chris felt Blazer’s hand for a moment and jerked away.

“The electrolytic layer beneath his skin is breaking down. He has to keep an electrical reserve in that gel layer, or it loses its structure. It will make his skin slough off, then kill him.”

“What do we do?” Chris asked, staring at Blazer.

Marda also stared at her lover for a long moment.  Get a grip, he’s just another patient right now, stay objective.  “We have to give him a recharge.”

Chris looked around the room.  There were no electrical outlets that she could see, just the glow panels.  She ran to the other bunk and attempted to pull off one of the coiled springs beneath it.  They wouldn’t budge, being welded in place.  Gritting her teeth, she ripped her shirt off before running to the toilet. She threw it in and soaked it in the water. After she pulled it out, she ripped it up into strips and tied them together.

“Good thinking,” Marda commented as Chris handed her one end. Marda tied it around Blazer’s limp hand for a moment. One look at his pallid face changed her mind. She gave him a quick kiss, moistening his lips, stuck the end of the cloth in his mouth, and forced it closed. “I’m sorry,” she said to him, moved clear, and signaled to Chris.

Chris smashed the cover off one of the glow panels, shattering the bulb within. She shoved her end of the wet cloth in. Electricity sparked and surged down the wet cloth. Marda winced when Blazer jumped and bucked in response for a moment and then relaxed. She held her hand above the wet cloth for a moment, felt the water sizzle in response to energy flowing through it.

Marda turned her attention back to Blazer.  “Don’t pull too hard Blazer, you’ll blow the breaker.”  His breathing steadied into short shallow breaths.  She sighed and sat back, relieved.  Thank you, god, she whispered.  “We have to keep it conducting, and keep it wet.  The dirtier the water, the better.”

Chris looked down at Blazer. “What else can we do?”

Marda continued to look down at Blazer and wished she could touch him, wished she could have made love with him back on Anul.  Damn you Jell, why did you keep us apart?  “I don’t know.  This is all I can think of.  We just have to keep the strip conducting as best we can. Adding salt to it would help if we had any.” Feeling herself starting to ramble, she stopped and looked up at Chris.  “You’d better signal the others, to let them know.”

Chris nodded and ran to the wall to tap out a message, explaining their situation.

***

When he awoke several hects later, Blazer’s eyelids felt even heavier than when he had pulled maneuvers.  His skin felt cracked and dry.  Tem Sickness, he realized.  But he was awake, and his hearts beat a regular rhythm. Those were good signs.  He tasted something wet in his mouth and felt it with his tongue, cloth?  He lolled his head to one side and let it slip free.

A hand rolled his head back up and shoved the cloth back in his mouth. He spit it out again. “Stop,” he moaned. The cloth tasted foul.

“Thank god,” Marda said.

Blazer tried to smile, but couldn’t. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure. They just dumped you in here without saying anything.”

“Is everyone all right?”

Marda shook her head. “No, everyone’s been taken away at least once so far. They’ve got Chris right now.”

He forced his eyes open and looked up at her. She attempted to cover the bruises on her face with her hair, but he still saw them. Anger filled him as he imagined her torture session. “Even you?” He tried to sit up, but it felt like ten gravities was pressing down on him. Even raising a hand to touch her was impossible.

Marda put a hand on his chest to force him back down. “Don’t try and sit up. You’ll need to recharge all duwn before you can manage that.”

Blazer groaned and looked around the room, noting that only one of the six glow panels still emitted any light. “Did you have to burn out all of those just for me?”

“We didn’t have any choice. You kept burning them out. The current load only dropped in the last hect, I would say.”

“How bad did they drain me?”

Marda managed a weak smile. “I don’t know. Chris wasn’t able to build a multimeter.”

Blazer smiled back and it took all his strength to lay his hand on her side. “We’ll make it through this. Have we lost anyone?”

“Not that I’ve seen, but Blazer, if they keep this up, they’ll kill you.”

Blazer accomplished a weak nod.  “That’s why he have to get the Sheol out of here.  I’m already thinking of a plan, but I need to drink something.  No offense, but that cloth you stuck in my mouth tastes like piss.”

Marda looked away and got up to get him a drink from the sink.  By the time she returned, he was on the verge of passing out again. She wrapped the cloth around his hand and looked back down at him. “We have to get out of here,” she said and kissed him.

“We will,” he croaked.

The door slammed open and guards shoved Chris back in after her interrogation.  Chris spun about and yelled back at her captors, her naked torso covered in bruises, welts and hair-thin cuts.  “Is that the best you cubs can manage?” she screamed, the telltale marks of the mindprobe marring her forehead.  She stood defiant until the door closed, huffing at her captors.  Once the light fell away, though, she fell to her knees and wailed, tears streaming down her face.

Marda rushed to her as Telsh leapt down from her bunk and the two women helped Chris to sit on the bunk opposite Blazer.  He turned to face her.  What the Sheol did they show her with the mindprobe that could break Chris like that?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

“Are you all right? What happened?” Marda asked as she examined Chris.

“I’m fine,” Chris said between sobs. Blazer recognized that these were not sobs of pain, but of loss and mental torment. Her little display a moment ago was her final act of defiance against her captors. “They made me relive things, memories, it was horrible, and then, then…” she couldn’t go on.

“Chris, how long have they used the mindprobe?” Blazer asked.

Chris looked up at Blazer and nodded. “They’ve had it up the last couple hects,” she replied, trying to get her emotions under control. “But that’s not the worst part. It’s Deniv. Deniv cracked.”

Everyone gasped, unsure of what to think of the news.  Blazer felt his world shatter, not Deniv!

“I don’t know how,” Chris went on, tears still flowing despite her best efforts to stop them. “I was in the next chamber and when the door opened, I just heard him give up. Then they trotted him through all the chambers, used him as an example to the rest of us. I thought he was faking at first, using it to try and escape. But he was completely broken, and they took him away.”

Blazer felt his anger rise up. These interrogators and torturers were experts at their craft and all of them, even he had cracked under the pressure, crying out in pain, but he had offered up nothing. What could they have done to break Deniv? What did he, what could he, have told them? Deniv is no traitor.

“We’ll find Deniv,” he said.  “We’ll break free of this place and find Deniv, and we’ll kill all these bastards.  You have my word on that.”  Lazith’s face sprang to mind again at his proclamation and two words as well.  Never Again.

UCSB DATE: 1001.026

Star System: Unknown, UCSBS-Krain, Captain’s Office

Marda sighed as she sat back in the plush chair and massaged her temples.  Thank God that rescue team found us when they did. I don’t know how much longer we could have held out.

The door slid away and Marda turned to watch the ship’s captain walk in. She made to stand but he waved her back into her seat. “Sit down cadet, you’ve earned a rest.”

“Thank you sir, how’s the rest of my team?”

“Recovering,” the captain commented and took his seat. “You’re the only one fit enough to talk at the moment though.”

Really, what about Arion?  Marda shook her head, sure that the interrogators had to have beaten Arion worse than the rest with his self-healing ability. “I see, sir. How can I help you?”

“Tell me about what happened.”

“It was barbaric, sir. And the mind probes,” she shuddered and grabbed her shoulders. “I don’t want to go through anything like that again.”

“Makes you wonder why we even bother, why we put young people like you in harm’s way.”

Marda returned an incredulous look. “Sir, you can’t be serious. If we were to do nothing then the Geffers would just do this to countless others.”

“Really? Is that what you think?”

This has to be some kind of test.  Right?  “Yes sir, ever since the Galactic Federation first appeared on our borders two centuries ago, they’ve been nothing but aggressive against us.”

“Yet they presented the Treaty of Tamkin’s Star and the Armistice.”

“Only after the Confederation offered them how many peace accords before that?”  She shook her head, her temples still hurting.  “The Geffers attacked us first, annihilating a patrol that made no aggressive action when they made first contact.”

“And we returned that favor in kind, destroying their ship. A ship with a crew of hundreds. What choice did we leave them?”

“We presented a peace offering as soon as we discovered where they were from. It was all a mistake. But that doesn’t excuse their acts of piracy along our borders, or the destruction of the Dagonite Refugee convoys in 782. They proved their intentions and we had to fight back.”

“Calm down, cadet. I can see that you know your history. But do you know what one of the prime considerations for fighting the Galactic Federation has always been?”

Marda shook her head. “Other than the emancipation of all their slave races, no sir.”

“How about the imprisonment of one of their member races?”

Marda felt taken aback, until the answer came to her. “The Pharad, that’s right, they never completed the space ban that the Confed imposed upon them. The Galactic Federation freed them twenty annura before first contact.”

“Do you ever look at the concept of the space ban and consider it unjust? I mean isolating an entire people to their homeworld because a few went rogue?”

A spike of pain ripped through Marda’s head and her vision blurred for a moment. “Sorry sir, but there was much more to it than that. Can I have some water?”

The captain nodded and tapped a button on his desk before waving for her to continue.

“The Pharad government disrupted the whole of the hyperspace buoy network, destroying buoys and corrupting the database during their war of secession. Then when we found out how they’d manipulated the Telshin into going to war with us before that, and that was the just beginning of their crimes. The Confederation had no choice but to space ban them. It took us another thirty annura to restore contact with all the colonies. Not to mention the fact that they kept the rise of the Galactic Federation within the Consign Spur a secret.”

“And why is it called that, the Consign Spur?”

How could he not know that?  “Sir?” Another spike of pain shot through her head and she gritted her teeth against the pain.

“Just humor me, cadet. I want to make sure you’re all right.”

“If this headache would just go away, sure. But it’s the Consign Spur because during the ancient wars, several very powerful beings were imprisoned there, many of whom were considered immortal—not that we can confirm that.”

“And what’s happened to them?”

“No one knows sir.  Their jailers, the Dagonites, our last contact with them were those destroyed refugee ships two centuries ago that finally convinced the senate to go to war.  Most people think that the Geffers, and the Terrans in particular, wiped out all but those prisoners, over five centuries ago.  But we didn’t even know that because the Pharad were our contacts with them.”

“There has to be more to it than that, cadet. Come on, you were in the diplomatic corps, you know how the Confederation works, you’ve seen the ugly truth behind the gloss. When you get down to it, we aren’t that fundamentally different.”

“Yes, we are!” Marda all but shouted. “The Confederation doesn’t keep slaves, we don’t force other races to join us at gun point…”

“Check your history cadet, how many races have joined the Confederation only after you went to war with them?”

“Those are the exceptions, not the rule, and most of those were because of misunderstandings.”

“Get real, cadet, and stop looking at your history through rose-tinted goggles. The Confederation is more to blame for this war than the Galactic Federation will ever be. They want what’s in the Orion Arm and will never be content until they have it.”

Another shot of pain radiated through Marda’s head as the captain’s words washed over her.  What the fragging Sheol is a rose?  And Orion Arm?  Isn’t that what the Geffer’s call...  Marda sat back bolt upright, her eyes wide. “Where am I? Where am I really?”

“Shit, she saw through it,” the captain said to someone over Marda’s shoulder. “Pull her out.”

Location: Unknown, Interrogation Chamber

The pain in Marda’s head threatened to split her skull as the captain’s office melted around her, replaced by the clean white interior of the interrogation chamber. The captain’s features even morphed from that of a kindly Anulian to that of a thuggish, distended browed Thal. The light stung at her eyes so badly that she couldn’t help but cry out under the assault, and the horrid Thal jumped into her face.

“Tell me this, cadet. If the Confederation is so benevolent, why didn’t they free my people when the Sirians enslaved us?”

Marda shook her head, the pain of the mind probe digging into her scalp almost too much to handle. “The Confederation didn’t exist when the Thal were kidnapped from Earth.”

“But what about after it formed? Why didn’t any of the expeditions you launched free us?”

“Because the Consign Spur was part of the Pharad Protectorate, we couldn’t go in.”

“Lies, all lies. Now, tell us diplomat, where is Core?”

“Sciminder, Marda, Cadet, Serial Number…”

The slap that met Marda’s face threatened to knock her from the interrogation sling.  It stung with enough force to cloud her vision, a tinge of red seeping in from her left. 

“Get her out of here, and bring me another. I want to break another one today.”

Marda didn’t even attempt to stand as her captors dragged her out of the interrogation frame and back to her cell.  She had no energy to attempt such a feat.  Each tug from the guards brought a new agony as her feet scraped the hard concrete floor.  At least she would gain some modicum of relief once she reached her cell, but as they got to her door, the interrogator behind her harrumphed.  “It occurs to me, we have been too lenient. Turn the temperature down in the cells, and strip her.”

Marda managed to look up at the guards as they leered down at her before they threw her up against the simple metal door. Her head bounced against the door before one of them reached up and slammed it back in place while rough hands tore at what was left of the simple underclothes she’d worn since they’d made it to the shelter. She made an attempt to cover herself when they pulled away a moment later and dared not look up at them, sure that lust-filled eyes fell upon her.

She wasn’t prepared for the door to swing open behind her before those same rough hands shoved her into the darkened chamber.

“What the Sheol!” Chris hollered and ran over to Marda after she’d hit the floor.

“Your clothes, hand over anything you have left.”

Chris leapt up defiant, only her abused pair of shorts remaining. “Over my dead body.”

“What you be doing to her you shit fuckers!” Milius of the Explosions cried, leaping towards the door.

Wrong thing to say!

A single blast reverberated through the chamber and Milius fell to the ground, hollering in pain. “You heard us, the clothes, or the next round splits this homophobic bitch’s head.”

Chris looked down at Marda and she nodded back to her. The three women removed their garments and threw them back, Milius clutching at the cauterized wound in her leg.

“Take the big bitch, let’s see how she holds up,” the interrogator called out. “I have such sights to show her.”

They had no way to tell just how much time had passed, but by Marda’s guess they came back for her about three hects later.  She wasn’t prepared for what awaited her when they shoved her into the interrogation chamber.  Milius sat in a chair across from her, blood streaking her face from nose, eyes, and ears, the marks of the mindprobe still marring her forehead.  So much sweat clung to her naked form that it looked as if she’d just been dragged from a pool.  The way she sat there, huffing and out of breath, told Marda volumes about the mind probe session they must have just pulled her out of. Yet she remained defiant, her eyes hard.

“I wanted to show you something,” the interrogator began. “This woman,” he all but spat the word. “She has withstood such torment, she thinks herself so strong, and so do you,” he continued, pointing back at Marda. “But I will show you just how weak you really are.”

He produced a weapon from behind his back, but it was of a type Marda had never seen. The look on Milius’ face told Marda that she did, it was one of restrained terror.

What manner of sidearm would worry a Tomeris like that?

“Have you ever handled a chemical slung thrower cadet, or seen its effects on living tissue?”

Marda shook her head before she could stop herself. Milius just stared at the weapon.

“Then allow me to demonstrate.” He pointed the pistol at Milius’ knee and pulled the trigger.

Marda winced at the thunderclap of noise that erupted. The stench of cordite, burned flesh, and blood met her nose in an instant and she recoiled. Milius was not so lucky and let out a cry of pain as the round tore through her kneecap. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and remained silent as blood streamed from the wound.

Marda’s first instinct was to help Milius, but two strong hands shoved her into the chair opposite before they proceeded to strap her into it. She fought to no avail. Then they did something she never would have expected; they slipped the still warm pistol into her hand. She stared down at the weapon as they taped it to her hand, then stuck it down to the armrest of her chair. Even from her vantage point she could see that it aimed straight at Milius’ sweat-soaked and blood-splattered chest.

“You have a choice cadet, shoot this ‘woman’ in the chest, or—” He and one of the guards produced two more percussion pistols and she felt it dig into the side of her head as the Thal interrogator slid his next to Milius’. “Or we kill you both.”

Marda bit at her lip and looked across at Milius.  The big Tomeris woman looked spent, but she remained steadfast and shook her head. 

Marda looked up at the interrogator. “I’d rather die.”

“So be it,” he replied and cocked the hammer on his pistol, while the one next to Marda cocked his as well.

Focus, remain strong, don’t let them break you.

“Core cadet, tell us the location of Core, or we will destroy you both.”

Core, they want Core? Of course, but, how could they know...  “I have no idea where Core is, why do you think I would?”

  “Don’t even attempt to lie, cadet.  We’ve seen you suppressing knowledge of your capital world, and we know you’ve been there.  Don’t even attempt to deny it.”

Shreg! I’ve only been there the one time. No, stop, don’t think about it.

“Tell us anything, and it spares your life. Even if you were just a shuttle pilot, you have to have seen some details, something to help us find it.”

Do I lie, lead them down a false trail?  No, just shut your mouth, if they think they can glean the location of Core out of you then they won’t dare kill you, just torture you more.  The thought left Marda numb and she looked back up at Milius.  But what does she have to offer that can save her?

“Sciminder, Marda, Cadet…”

“That old line. Fine then,” he dug the pistol back into the side of Milius’ head. “She has nothing more to offer us. We’ve ripped what little useful data we could find out of her brain. So whether or not she lives is up to you. Pull the trigger and hope that the wound isn’t fatal, or you both die.”

The unguarded trigger felt like ice as Marda’s finger grazed it.  She looked back at Milius and she shook her head back at her.  She had nothing to help any wound she inflicted on Milius, not even their dirty clothes anymore.  If she pulled the trigger, Milius was sure to die; a bloody, pain-filled end..  Oh God, please give me some sign.

“So be it.”  The interrogator straightened his arm, the muscles in his forearm tightened, and Marda watched in subdued horror as his finger squeezed backwards.  She wanted to tell him to stop, but before the words could escape her lips, the weapon discharged.

She watched in horror as Milius jerked to the side and she fell to the ground, but there was no gout of flame or blood, just the concussion of the blast.  Marda remained seated and silent, the barrel pressing against her head taken away as she just stared at Milius.  The strong woman who had remained defiant up until that point was gone.  Tears streamed from her blood-soaked eyes, and she shook and gibbered nonsense to herself.  They figured out how to break her. But how? Had she seen someone take wounds like that before?

It was the most disheartening thing she’d ever seen. Never before had Marda witnessed a Tomeris crying. It seemed more alien than anything else and it ripped at her soul.

“This one’s broken,” the interrogator said and kicked at Milius’ chair. “Take her away to another chamber, but show the others what fate awaits them if they don’t cooperate.” He then turned his sights back on Marda. “You could have prevented this, you could have saved her,” he continued, stepping in front of her. “All you had to do was pull the trigger.”

Marda realized that the weapon was still in her hand.  While it might not be a kill shot with how he stood, it would at least disable him.  She pulled the trigger.  Nothing happened.  She looked back down at the weapon and pulled the trigger again.  She tried to move her thumb to pull back the hammer, but it was no good.  She felt tears well up in her eyes.  It was empty. I could have saved her, if I had just known.  Marda couldn’t help but cry at that thought before the interrogator reinforced the point.

“And now, you get to live with that,” he said, standing and removing the weapon from her hand. “Strap her back into the web, and prep the mind probe for another session.”

UCSB DATE: 1001.029

Location: Unknown, Interrogation Chamber

Scrambled—that was the word Blazer had used to describe his brain after four cycles of torture and interrogation. For four cycles, the interrogation teams had pulled Blazer and the others out of their cells at random to turn them into their own playthings. They taunted the cadets, preyed on their fears, humiliated them and, with each passing cycle, they pushed the idea that the Confederation had abandoned them.

Blazer looked over at a mind probe on the table and shuddered. They were vicious devices. In the first sessions, the interrogators didn’t even ask any questions. Instead, they simply tore through their minds, dredging up every dark thought and suppressed memory to devise even more tortures. Blazer had done his best to block the memories they wanted most. When they searched for memories of jump buoys or codes, he would imagine something else to steer them away, and pain was his reward. The others didn’t have it any better.

Blazer flexed his left hand and winced in pain.  The Geffers hadn’t even bothered to set his wrist after they’d broken it during the squadron’s last escape attempt, the cycle before.  How did they crack our code? There’s no other way they could have known what our plans were.

The burns on Blazer’s back stung when the vents activated, blowing ice cold air on his naked skin. His captors learned not to drain him too much after that first cycle. Now, they would drain him to the point of collapse before force charging him so fast that it blistered and burnt his flesh. They wouldn’t let him keep that excess charge, though. They always drained it away, slowly. It left him feeling drunk, and not the pleasant kind of drunk, before they would force-drain him again. Blazer wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

A video taken cycles before had started, and Blazer tried to block out the sound of it. It showed Deniv after he’d cracked, as he begged for release and let slip that he knew the jump code to Anul. Blazer couldn’t know if he told them or not, but he was gone now, as was Milius, one of the Explosions’ oldest members. The video showed her next. The mind probes and a cruel test with Marda shattered her psyche before they paraded her around—naked like the rest of them, drooling and gibbering to herself as she called out to people who weren’t there. Kallie almost broke when she’d seen. It turned out that she’d been there when Milius’ mate had taken a chemical slug thrower round to the head, just as they had mimicked.

Blazer shook it off. He couldn’t think of that now. He looked back at the mind probe. It was one of the pair he’d fried. He smiled at that. He’d managed to absorb enough charge form the devices to cause a feedback loop which had shorted them out. He’d taunted the Geffers to try a third, since the more he burned out, the fewer there would be to use against his comrades. Instead, they resorted to traditional means again to beat information out of him.

Blazer looked up at his interrogator after his latest session with the prod.  It was the only torture they had that still worked on him.  Low on electrical energy from repeated forced charges and discharges, Blazer’s body had all but shut down less vital systems.  The tactile sense of touch in his skin was one of the first to go, so their pokes and prods went all but unnoticed.  His other senses had started to deteriorate as well.  If I don’t do something soon, that’s it. I’ll have permanent sensory damage if the Tem Sickness doesn’t take me.

Blazer was already feeling the telltale signs of the sickness coming back.  It was an odd sensation, the beginnings of Tem Sickness. It felt like the inside of his skin itched.  That was a bad omen. Unless Blazer received a massive recharge, the electrolytic gel under his skin would solidify.  Amputation of the affected limb before the solidification spread would be the only way to save his life, at that point.  I doubt they’ll even try.

“You can let this all go. You can ease your suffering. Just tell us how to access the jump codes. I know those buoys must contain the jump codes for other systems.”

Blazer closed his eyes against the words.  That was a common misconception that the Confederation refused to deny.  The jump buoys only contained the jump codes and navigational data for the systems they were located in.  Wait, if they still think that, then Deniv didn’t tell them anything.  He must be lying to them.  That thought alone buoyed him.

The door to the next chamber opened and Marda’s scream echoed into the room. He looked over at her, his neck screaming at him to stop while he watched her receive an electric shock when she refused to answer a question. He wasn’t sure what he hated more at this point, seeing her being tortured, or seeing her being fed the electricity his body so desired.

He wouldn’t allow it. He’d already lost one lover to an enemy. Hesitation had cost him her life. Now the torturers threatened to take Marda from him too.

When the door closed, he looked up at his interrogator. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, just stop hurting her,” he pleaded.

Location: Unknown, Interrogation Control

The commander in charge of the interrogation watched Blazer on the monitor with great interest.  Is that all it took to finally break him?

The admiral in charge of the facility moved closer to look at the screen, and turned to the commander. “What’s the relationship between those two?”

“I believe they may be close,” the commander answered, pulling up the files on Blazer and Marda.

“How close?”

“Lovers, possibly.”

The admiral scoffed. “So attacking his lover is what finally broke this one. Does that correlate with the psychological profile we’ve built for him?”

“According to the profile, his last lover was killed. He blamed himself for hesitating and allowing her death. Then he killed the alien who killed her and three others.”

The admiral looked back down at the screen. “After two escape attempts and seeing two of his comrades broken… I can see how he might finally break from hearing that scream. It might not even have mattered if it was hers.”

“I disagree. He may have something planned, but we can’t know for certain.”

“And if he does?”

“If he does, you know the price.”

The admiral nodded. “Agreed, let’s see where this leads.”

Location Unknown, Interrogation Chamber

The interrogator received his instructions from the controllers and turned back to Blazer, bending down to hear him better. “Tell me, cadet. Tell me everything.”

Blazer looked up at him and tried to wet his lips. His parched tongue served only to wipe off what little moisture was on them. “Can’t speak,” he managed.

The interrogator grabbed a water bottle from his tray, brought the straw to Blazer’s mouth and sprayed it in. Blazer took several thirsty gulps, then wet his lips again.

“Thank you,” he wheezed.

“That’s fine, cadet. Now tell me.” All three, torturer, guard, and interrogator moved in close. Blazer mouthed words.

Angered, the interrogator slapped him. “My translator does not read lips, Anulian!”

Blazer looked back up at him. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “You want to know how to access the jump codes?”

He nodded. “Yes, yes, and tell us the jump codes to the home worlds.”

“I don’t know those.”

The interrogator raised his hand to slap him again, but Blazer shook his head.

“I know how to get them.” He gasped, then whispered another response.

The interrogator moved in closer again. “What, speak up?”

“The guild ship’s crew. Everyone on board is needed to access the codes.”

“How, what do they do?”

“Everyone, no matter where they are on the ship, they all have to fart at the same time.”  Blazer smiled, his lips cracking.  Deniv would have liked that.

The interrogator did not appreciate the joke and raised his hand to signal the torturer to hit Blazer with the prod again.

“Stop,” Blazer called out, his voice feeble. “Have you ever wondered about all the places an energy gatherer can discharge his power?”

The interrogator looked down at him and lowered himself back to eye level. “From the hands, and that’s it. Right?”

Blazer wet his lips and shook his head. “No, it’s anyplace we can make physical contact.”

Blazer spat at the interrogator. A long streamer of sticky saliva bridged the gap between the two of them, and he arced. Electricity flashed across the spittle, throwing him backwards as every muscle in his body fired at once, stunning and sending him twitching to the ground. The guard went for his weapon, drew it on Blazer, and pulled the trigger three times, but nothing happened. The electrically actuated locks on the frame flipped open, and Blazer rolled over before pushing the webbing aside.

The torturer rushed to hammer Blazer with the prod, but he dodged the blow and wrapped his hand around the shaft. He turned it and rammed it into the man’s face. I always wondered what would happen if you hit a blank with one of these.  The dial set to maximum, the extraction charge left the man limp, stopping his heart before the reversal charge fired.  It must have fried the man’s nervous system, baking his brain.

Blazer slipped out of the torture frame as the guard examined his weapon. The energy cell in the grip was gone. “You want this?” Blazer tossed the emptied cylinder back at him.

The guard fumbled for the battery Blazer had stolen from him earlier; now emptied, it gave him the energy he needed to escape. It was the last mistake the man ever made.

Blazer punched his hand into a nearby light panel.  He grabbed onto the power cable within and tore it free.  It arced and sputtered—Blazer absorbing the charge as he held up his other hand and discharged.  Lightning bolts streamed across the room and into the man’s chest.  Blazer kept up the assault until the man’s eyes exploded, and the skin of his own hand was blackened.  It merely tingled.  Still numb.

The door to Marda’s chamber opened, and the guard there entered. “Is everything all right in…”

Blazer answered him with a face full of lightning. The force of it tossed him back from the door. He slammed into Marda’s interrogator, knocking them both to the floor. Blazer was through the door an instant later. The first guard’s plasma laser pistol in his left hand, he fired at the men, putting a plasma round into each of their skulls before turning on the torturer. That one ran for the alarm, but before he could reach it Blazer fired three more rounds into him. The last cleaved off the back of the man’s skull, the high energy plasma cauterizing his brain.

Blazer stepped over bodies and released the shackles on Marda’s wrists before opening the torture frame. He pulled her free and she collapsed into his arms, exhausted.

“What happened?” she asked, still dazed from the electric shocks they’d hit her with.

Blazer heard a sound and watched Marda’s interrogator stir beneath the guard. The shot Blazer got off on him had only grazed his head. Blazer looked back at the man and fired off another pair of rounds. The first ripped through the man’s head and ripped off his ear, and the second punched straight through his eye.

“We’re getting out of here,” Blazer replied, holding her close for a moment.

Marda nodded as she pulled away, looked up at Blazer. “But there’s no plan.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’re getting out of here now,” he said and stepped away from her.

Kneeling down, he liberated the guard’s sidearm and extra magazines, then handed them to her. She hesitated when she saw his charred hand, but she took the weapon. They took up positions on either side of the door to the next chamber. Blazer signaled her, opened it, and rushed in. He dispatched the guard and interrogator with four quick rounds as Marda followed and put her two shots in the torturer’s head. Blazer relieved the guard of his weapon while Marda released Chris from the interrogation frame.

Chris leapt from the interrogation frame and kicked the dead man in the crotch. Her face a mask of rage, she dug her heal into it, crushing his genitalia.

“He’s already dead, he can’t feel that,” Blazer commented and pulled lab coats from the rack on the wall, tossing them to Marda and Chris. Both women pulled the coats on.

“I don’t care. It felt good,” Chris growled.

Blazer shook his head. He understood, but they didn’t have time for it. The three of them worked through the next five chambers in rapid succession, leaving their comrades behind as they rushed through. They couldn’t waste any time lest a guard get too curious and raise the alarm.

Chris seemed to take particular joy in the last chamber. There, one of the guards who had seen fit to take particular advantage of her clothing situation stood over Trevis. He died with three plaser rounds from crotch to heart.

Blazer led them back to the middlemost chamber, freeing their comrades and arming them on the way.  His hearts pounding and his hand beginning to burn as sensation returned, they waited in the central chamber.  The others took the moment to rest while Blazer pulled open a circuit panel and dug his hand into the main power trunk within.  Now or never.

He pulled for all he was worth, charging himself up for the biggest discharge of his life.  The skin of his hand sizzled, burning out the nerve endings again as the hair on his arm cooked, filling the chamber with an acrid smell, but he didn’t care.  This is it, we escape or we go down fighting, but either way, I’m taking as many of them with me as I can.  As he pulled his hand away, he found them all staring at him. They looked beyond tired, but this was the furthest they had gotten in any escape attempt.

Blazer walked to the door, smoke still rising off his blistered and blackened arm. “We all know what’s next. Four guards are manning the central station. We kill them. We get our friends and we escape.”

“You know I’m down with some revenge porn,” Porc commented, extending his damaged hand claws, one of them snapped off, to leave a jagged stump.  “But that ain’t a plan, what do we then?  We still don’t know where we are.”

“It doesn’t matter, so long as we get out of here,” Blazer replied, his eyes cold. “We’ll make our way to a storage level, or bay, and plan our next move. Free the others and then escape.”

“The other who?” Gavit asked.

“The other cadets. At least those from Singularity Base have to be around here somewhere. Then we go with what Trevis suggested, steal a transport and escape. We let the Confederation know where we are and what happened.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Gavit asked. “I don’t know any jump codes home.”

Blazer looked over the group. Arion and Bichard weren’t there, so the others wouldn’t know that what he was about to tell them was a complete lie. “I know a jump code to a safe system the Mappers Guild uses as a fall back point in case of attack. We can get help there.”

No one questioned it. They either believed him, or were desperate to care. He wanted it to be true so badly, he was half convinced himself.

Adrenaline and a fresh surge of electricity fueling Blazer, the cadets took up positions around the door. Blazer opened it and they rushed into the passageway, firing blind towards the control console. One lucky round managed to fell one of the guards before they could take aim and fire more effectively.

A single stun round grazed Gavit’s shoulder and he fell to the ground cursing, his right arm paralyzed by the blast.  Blazer turned his gun on that guard and fired two rounds, the first catching him in the chest, the other drilling a hole through his neck and throat. Chris downed two more, her ferocity that of a feral beast.

The fourth guard was nowhere to be seen.

They moved toward a lavatory not far away, thinking the guard could be there, but they were wrong. As Blazer neared the console, the fourth guard jumped up from behind it. Rage still pushing him, Blazer spun about, grabbed the guard by his throat, and discharged.

Marda yelled, “Stop!” but that scarcely penetrated the roar of the lightning pouring out of his arm and into the man. He finally released the guard when the report of a round flying past his ear alerted Blazer to danger. Steam and smoke rose from the charred corpse as he panted and looked back at Marda.

“Doing what I have to do. Go see to Gavit,” he ordered, his voice like ice.

Marda took a step back as he stared her down, fear in her eyes.

“Get them out of there,” Blazer ordered, turning to Gokhead.

Gokhead wasted no time and set to work. He searched the control panel for door controls while Marda went back for Gavit. It took Gokhead a moment to translate the Terran Alphabet, fatigued as he was. The doors swung open a moment later, and Gokhead slumped back.

“Now! We’re getting out of here now!” Blazer yelled. He wasn’t worried about being heard. He figured, in fact, that whoever ran this facility already knew they were on the move. They couldn’t afford to hesitate.

The rest of the squadron slunk out of their dark cells. They looked upon Blazer. Arion stepped back at the sight. Blazer felt sure that the rage and hatred filling his eyes were the same as he’d displayed at Garov 18965. “We’re getting out of here, Arion.”

No one questioned, instead limping towards an elevator, Bichard, his carapace cracked, carrying Gavit. Gokhead looked at the panel inside and pointed to the number of a level several stories up. “This is a hangar.”

Gavit flexed his right hand. “Good. If it flies, I can fly it.”

Telsh added her own affirmative. “I be flying anything they got, been doing it before.”

Blazer slammed the button and the doors closed.  As the acceleration of the elevator pressed down on him, Blazer abandoned any plan, for the time being, to rescue the other cadets.  The adrenaline of the escape had left him, and he could see the same in the others.  Better to fall back, then return feeling stronger.

When the elevator slowed to a halt, everything went dark.

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Neurosimulation Bay 1

Total darkness engulfed Blazer.  His senses felt numb.  Is this death? No, something’s there.  He felt pressure build around him. Am I floating?  It felt like floating, then something pressed across his back and the back of his legs.  I’m sitting, something’s on my head, it’s heavy.  What’s that in my mouth, a tube?  He probed it with his tongue and tasted nutrient fluid.  He felt his hands and flexed them.  Something leathery lay beneath them.  He reached up and felt a smooth helmet upon his head.  What new torture is this?

He tore the helmet from his head and readied himself to face his captors. Instead, technicians in Confed uniforms greeted his eyes. One of them ran after the orange helmet he’d flung across the deck. He felt incredibly weak, but sat up. Several technicians ran up to him as he looked around. The rest of the squadron was there too, all in the same form-fitting gel seats arrayed six at a time around four central pillars. Medical readouts hung over their heads. He looked at the suit he was sitting in—it was similar to the suits they’d worn at the holographic simulation parks, only far more advanced.

Blazer tried to get up, still suspicious and felt a charge begin to form in his fingers. 

“Careful cadet, it takes a few pulses to get your legs back under you the first time, especially after being in so long,” a Drashig technician told Blazer as he disconnected the suit.

Blazer looked back at the technician and his two-thumbed hand where he gripped Blazer’s arm, precisely where he had a broken his wrist the cycle before. It hurt until the darkness engulfed him, but now the pain, all of it, was just a memory. He looked over at Arion sitting there in his gel seat, rubbing his head. Opposite him, Marda sat up, a four-armed Otlian helping her to her unsteady feet. He reabsorbed the charge in his hand, his mind slowly clearing.

“What just happened?” Blazer asked.

A door slid away and Admiral Sares walked in, Commander Tadeh Qudas in tow. “You just escaped,” he announced.

“Admiral, please be telling us, what in the deepest pit of Sheol just happened?” Blazer pleaded.  He still felt weak and realized why.  I haven’t absorbed any electrical current in at least four cycles.

“Everything that you’ve experienced since your capture at the bunker has been simulated,” the Admiral replied and walked up to one of the central spires, laying a hand on it like a loving father. “This is the newest direct neural interface simulation system used by the Confederation. I’ve been working on its development and implementation for a long time. You’re only the third class to use it.”

They all looked around in shock and amazement.  Virtual reality simulations were nothing new, but this was beyond anything.  It felt real.

“How, I mean that was more real than real,” Arion stated, staring at the computer. “What about Deniv and Milius?”

Tadeh Qudas stepped into the middle of the chamber with the Admiral. “They failed. Deniv cracked under the pressure, most of what he told his captors was garbage, but some truth leaked out. Milius experienced a psychological break. She’ll be going home on a medical discharge.”

Fragging bastards, you can’t do that to them.  Anger still hanging at the back of his brain, Blazer stepped up to confront them, but Zithe beat him to it.

“How could you do this without our consent?”

“Cadet, stand down!” the Admiral ordered. “You signed that consent when you entered the Special Ops program,” he continued. “Now you had best get yourselves to medical for examinations and to get cleaned up.”

“Has anyone else made it out yet?” Blazer asked, the anger draining away, exhaustion in its wake.

“No,” Tadeh Qudas replied. “You’re the first ones out, and in record time. We had a bit of a time reworking the scenario to have such a large group in one prison block. Your lack of losses has been impressive. Normally we have to combine shattered teams together. Sergeant Korto is beside himself that you broke his streak.”

Admiral Sares looked up at the control room. “We’ll also have to come up with additional responses to escape scenarios. You caught us by surprise with this last one and the system didn’t have time to construct anything past the elevators. We’ll improve that for the next time, to include the actual hangar and ship escape scenario.”

Blazer shuddered at the thought of going through that again.

“For the rest of your time at this academy, your Special Operations mission training will be accomplished in these simulators. It will allow us to put you through real battlefield scenarios without risk of physical injury.”

Arion held up a hand and waited for the Admiral to acknowledge him before speaking. “Sir, what if we die in there?”

Everyone looked at the Admiral. It was a valid question given how real it had all felt.

“The system safely ejects you, and we have medical teams on standby just in case. We’ve not had anyone die in these simulators, even when they were still in development.”

“What about psychological trauma?” Arion pressed.

The Admiral stared at an empty seat. “It happens. We do our best to limit any harm, but like Cadet Millius, it can happen.”

That’s not exactly reassuring, Blazer thought.  “What now, sir?” Blazer asked through gritted teeth.   The simulators made a certain kind of sense, but what they’d just gone through still left him wanting to lash out at his captors.

“We’ll send you to medical for a full work up. Then you’ve earned a rest. Consider yourselves civilians for the next three cycles.”

The chance to relax, to eat real food again, to climb into a shower, even a sonic shower, and to sleep sounded glorious.

“Your fellows won’t receive the same courtesy if they are pulled out at the end of the testing. They will have to resume classes the next cycle.”

“We’ll take it,” Blazer remarked and all of them started for the door. Tired as he was, he wanted some time in the gym to beat on something.

Tadeh Qudas stepped in front of them, halting their progress. “Admiral, I believe you have something more to tell them?”

The Admiral harrumphed and turned back to the cadets. “We have a tradition for cadets who complete the exercise early. Meet me at Mendrick’s next cycle for breakfast and drinks. Dismissed.”

UCSBA-13, Medical

Blazer felt as if he should be used to the exhaustion by the time medical staff had finished with them. He’d never had an examination take so long before, as they poked and prodded them, making sure that their extended stay in the simulators had had no adverse side effects. So far they were all coming out with blue boards.

Others were not so lucky. Blazer felt a pit in his stomach when he passed the bed Milius lay in. She just shook and jabbered to herself, speaking to something that wasn’t there.

“She’s actually come a long way,” his nurse explained after seeing Blazer’s concern. “Therapists are working with her, and we’ve got her set up with more once she gets home.”

“Be letting me through,” Telsh called and pushed her way to sit beside her old friend.

Milius’ eyes went wide in response. “Telsh…” and the pair managed a short conversation before Milius wrapped herself into a fetal ball.

She’ll never be whole again, Blazer ruminated.

Others who’d washed out were there as well, most just looking defeated. But one sat with a guard beside him, his wrists lashed to his bed. “What happened to him?” Blazer asked his nurse.

“He snapped hard, killed one his teammates in the simulation and then himself before they could extract him. He’s tried twice more since. We have him on suicide watch.”

Blazer nodded, surprised that they would tell them so much.

“We’re just waiting on your blood work, but here, you might like to have this.” She handed him a macomm with a video letter from Datt and Treb.

Clad in heavy parkas, the pair stood before one of the giant domes that dotted their frozen world. Datt looked whole and smiled to the camera. “We just wanted to let you all know that we’re home and good. I’m looking for a new job, but Treb’s already got an offer. It’s enough to support us both if need be, so we’ll be fine. The rest of you, just hang in there.”

“We know you can do it. And once you’re finished, come over and visit us. By the time you get here we should have our first little one in a tube,” Treb concluded before leaning in to give Datt a kiss.

Blazer handed the video letter to Zithe as he sat down. It helped to see their smiling faces. There was no sign of Deniv though, no note, no video letter, not even word from the medical staff about where he was, or if he was okay.

Soon their blood work came back, and they were released. Blazer’s stomach grumbled at him, and they all made their way to the cafeteria for the first real food they’d had in almost two decles before heading back to their rooms.

His stomach heavy, exhaustion crept over every fiber of Blazer’s being as he and his roommates stood outside their door.  It looked so different now, everything did, and knowing that Deniv wouldn’t be within, he was hesitant to open it.  He couldn’t stave off the exhaustion though. Deniv was alive and well somewhere, he would just have to find out where later. He keyed open the door.

At first the fact that the lights were on puzzled him. As he scanned the room however he spotted, sitting at one of the desks doing homework like it was any other cycle, was Deniv.

His eyes wide, he rushed into the room ahead of the others. “Deniv, you’re here!”

Deniv turned and looked at them, masking any surprise he felt. “Where else would I be? What, you think just because I washed out of Special Ops, I’d leave the academy entirely? Come on, this is me!”

They all hugged him.

“Whoa there, guys,” he said, squirming away from them. “I know you guys have been cooped up in that simulation for a while now, but let’s not act like we’re from Zel-Tag.” he joked.

Has he seen the video letter from Datt and Treb?  Blazer shook his head.  Of course he has, especially the part where they’ll be cloning a child together. It was good to hear his voice, his jokes. “So what are you doing here?”

“Well they haven’t locked me out of the room yet, so I’ve been studying, playing catch up. Shit, when did you guys get out? Did you escape?”

Arion nodded, “Just a few hects ago. What about you, where did they transfer you?”

“I’m in a pure flight squadron now, with a bunch of the other Special Ops wash outs. We’re thinking of calling ourselves the Special Cases. But, that depends on what our squadron lead Dyran and, of course, Commander Pio-Tolis has to say about it. They’re a good lot from what I’ve seen so far, not us, but good enough to stick.”

“I’m just glad you stayed,” Bichard commented.

“Of course I did, big bug, I’ve already got my wings,” he replied, pulling open his shirt to show the Confed wings tattooed on his chest. He had gotten that tattoo before he’d even joined the Mappers Guild. “I’ll be up there with you, and Gavit—you better watch yourself. Now that I’m in a different unit, you and I might come head to head at some point.”

Gavit nodded. “We’ll see, we’ll see.”

“Yeah, and I won’t have to hold back now.”

Gavit just smiled again.

“You guys look like you just crawled out of Sheol, maybe twice.”

Blazer felt that way, even after getting a real shower in medical.

“Look, next cycle, I’m taking you all out and buying you drinks, and you can tell me what went down after I snapped.”

They exchanged nervous glances at that one. They’d been ordered not to discuss the simulation with anyone outside of the program.

“Look, I know you’re not supposed to talk about it, but I was in there too, and it helps to talk. I spend about a hect every cycle with Milius, just talking. At her mostly, but I did get her to have breakfast with me this cycle, before I went to classes. Man, another couple cycles, and I could have made it.”

Blazer shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“I’m not, but dang. To snap in the first cycle, that sucks, man. All right, now you guys get some sleep. Oh, and I left you some presents in the fridge,” he said, picking up his macomm. “I’m going to let the others know I’m alive. I’ll see you next cycle.”

UCSB DATE: 1001.030

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Dorm Room 305

Only Blazer’s rumbling stomach woke him the next cycle. The chrono on the wall told him they’d slept through morning chow call, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d slept in like that. He climbed down from his bunk, pulled on his jumpsuit, and noticed a call light on his console. His jump suit only half on, he reached over and tapped the screen.

The Admiral’s secretary appeared. “Good, you’re finally up. I will inform the Admiral and you will report to Mendrick’s for breakfast.”

Blazer looked around the room, where the others were stirring too. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, and inform the rest of your unit. You appear to be the first ones up.”

Blazer hesitated, unsure about waking the others.

“The Admiral is a busy man, so get them up,” she snapped. “Standby, I’m reading movement in two more rooms. The Admiral will see you for breakfast in thirty pulses.”

The link cut out, and Blazer shrugged on his uniform as the others climbed down from their bunks.

UCSBA-13, Mendrick’s Bar and Grill

It was a grand breakfast, better than anything they’d ever eaten, even back home. Blazer had no idea Mendrick could produce such delectable dishes. Bichard feasted on the array of fruit and honey smoothies prepared for him. Blazer would have loved one, but Bichard only shared them with Chris.

About halfway through breakfast, Railet barged in, took a seat, and joined them.  He hadn’t slept in his room the cycle before. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you’d escaped.  I was, um, busy elsewhere,” he said, casting a sidelong glance at a young female cadet in the doorway.

“We were afraid that you’d dropped,” Blazer commented.  After all, they hadn’t seen him since they’d gone on break after the battle.

“No, I just dropped out of the Special Ops and flight training programs. I’m still a cadet. I can’t stay long, though. I have to get to my next class.”

They all nodded, and Blazer got to his feet as Railet stood. “It’s good seeing you again, Railet.”

“You say that like I’m going somewhere. I may not be in the squadron anymore, but I’ll still be around,” he said looking over the team.

They all exchanged glances in response.  Blazer locked eyes with Zithe for a moment and considered what was to come.  Did Seri leave him her recommendation, before her death?

“I’ve been given a brief rundown of what happened prior to the sims, and I requested a full debrief, so we’ll discuss that later. For this cycle, as I am sure the Admiral and Commander Tadeh Qudas have already stated, I recommend that you rest and recuperate. I have not been idle and I have all of your class notes recorded, annotated, and placed on the squadron stitch. It’s my gift to you all.”

Gokhead nodded. “I saw that last night before I got to sleep, thank you very much.” Railet then turned and rushed out of the bar, followed by the female cadet. The Admiral checked his macomm and nodded to Tadeh Qudas a short time later. “We had best be going as well, commander. You know who’s up for interrogation next.”

Blazer rested a hand on Marda’s, felt her shudder.  The memory of the torturous interrogations was far too fresh in all their minds.  Did he have to say it so bluntly?

Tadeh Qudas closed the small port in the front of his death helm, put his drink aside and stood. “Yes sir, we should get going.” The Admiral and Tadeh Qudas left without ceremony. No ranks existed at Mendrick’s, not officer, enlisted or cadet, so no one saluted.

“Do as your ex-squadron commander instructed.  Get some rest this cycle, then get caught up on your classwork.  You have an advantage the other units won’t have when they’re released.”

Only Blazer and Marda remained after they’d finished their meal, but most scattered individually to collect themselves. Some went to the woods or the farms, others to observation domes or the hangar.

The two of them sat leaning against each other, relaxing. Blazer wouldn’t mind staying like this the whole cycle, just sitting with her, being close, and he could tell she was thinking the same thing too. But he wondered if somewhere else might be better, someplace more private. “Let’s have a picnic,” he eventually said, breaking the silence.

“I’m beyond full, and you’re thinking about food?”

Blazer chuckled. “Yeah I didn’t think about that. Why don’t we just go to the forest then? Go out there and get away from everyone.”

Marda smiled and sat up, stretching her back. Blazer couldn’t help but love the view. Marda noticed his smile and looked back at him. “You know we were supposed to do something over break.”

Blazer smiled and looked down at his hands. “I know, but the regs, and our families.”

She nodded in response.

“It’s odd not seeing the orbs around you,” Blazer commented, not seeing any of the orbs since they’d arrived back at the academy.

She looked around; aside from a stray orb on the other side of the mall she didn’t see any floating about. “Yeah, it’s strange. It makes me wonder if they even know we’re out yet.” Then Marda leaned back and smiled. “Oh yeah, back in medical they told me that they’d given me something to suppress my ability to communicate with them while we were in.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, didn’t they give you something too?”

Blazer thought about it for a moment.  He’d been so exhausted the cycle before that he’d zoned out on most of what the doctor had said to him.  “They said something, yeah, they said I would feel out of it for another cycle or so while my electrolytic layer recharged.” He had felt less energetic since their release, as if he really had discharged a great deal of his reserves.

“Yeah, they did it for everyone, except maybe Arion’s self-healing ability. It keeps you from using your abilities by accident inside the simulators. For me, it kept me honest, kept the orbs from being able to communicate to or influence me. But it should wear off by the end of the cycle they told me, probably the same with you and the others too.”

“So you’re telling me, we get a whole cycle without any busy-bodylesses knowing any better and bothering us?”

Marda looked back at him a wicked smile. “Yeah, that’s right. Now where can we go that the orbs won’t look?”

Not wasting any more time, they gathered up their things. Blazer snatched up his tactical vest, but grabbed it by a pocket he had bio-lock sealed back on Anul. The Nanos infused in the lock, detecting his biometric signature, unsealed the pouch. He didn’t realize and flipped the vest over before pulling it on. A small, nondescript box fell out before he could notice, but Marda did and, as it bounced off the deck, she kneeled down to scoop it up. “What’s this?” she asked, looking at the ancient jewelry case. “Is this for me?” she asked, her voice hopeful but with an air of menace to it.

Blazer froze to the spot and felt a sheepish grin twist his face. He felt conspicuous all of a sudden and looking up, found several sets of eyes upon them. He took a knee in front of her and palmed the box away from her.

Marda looked him in the eye as he came down to her level. “What’s going on, Blazer?”

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this. I intended it to be a wedding gift,” he explained, his hearts thudding as if he was facing down a predator.

Marda smiled and shook with suppressed glee.

“I come from an old family.  The Vaughnt line of long ago were blacksmiths.  Before electricity was widespread, we made swords.  In times past, the first forged sword of our line was the gift each oldest son would give his wife when they married.  That sword has long since been locked away in a museum, but I do have this.” He opened the box and showed her the contents.

Inside lay a ring set with a Starfire Opal. Marda gasped. Starfire Opals were rare, most of them having been destroyed long ago. The few that remained in public knowledge were worth enough to buy a starship.

“This ring has been passed through my family for generations. I love you, Marda Sciminder. I’ve known from the first moment I met you that you were special and, with each passing cycle, I have fallen more and more in love with you. I know that you are the woman I want to spend the rest of eternity with.”

Blazer pulled the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger, stopping midway. “Marda Sciminder, I give you this as a promise, that the cycle is not long in coming before you and I will marry.”

She stood there a moment, then jumped into his arms, the ring pushing itself to the back of her finger as she did so. “I love you Blazer Vaughnt, and when that cycle comes, I will take you as my husband.”

The moment just felt perfect as Blazer and Marda lay on the floor in a mad embrace. As they separated, Blazer saw the staff doing their best to ignore their antics. “We should get out of here.”

“What did you have in mind?” Marda asked, sitting back.

“The orbs don’t know where we are. Even if they think that we’re out, they probably assume we’re with the team somewhere. I doubt they’d check our bunks.”

Marda nodded, a wicked smile on her lips.

“We could make up for lost time, maybe…”

That smile still on her lips, Marda reached down and cupped Blazer’s crotch. “My room, now!”

Location: Dorm Room 316

Heading back to their room several hects later, with the rest of the team, Arion still felt pumped from the final fight scene in the last feature they’d seen.  He still couldn’t believe that he had convinced the cadet in charge of the movie theater at the command building to let him run a marathon of his favorite fantasy holovid series. Better yet, the news that the final chapter of the medieval saga would come out at the end of the annura had him waiting for it breathlessly. “This is going to be epic. I just hope that we can get it here.”

Everyone laughed.

Arion knew it was weird for them to see him like this, as he swung an imaginary battle-ax about. “Too bad Blazer and Marda couldn’t join us.”

“Yeah, I wonder what those two could be up to?” Chris asked with a mischievous grin, dressed in her modified PT clothes.

Arion shot her a look.  Thanks to the close quarters of the last two decles, it had gotten around the squadron, that Marda and Blazer had not yet consummated their relationship. 

When they reached Chris’s room, she hit the key pad to open it, but nothing happened. She tapped the key again, and still the door did not respond. A message appeared, “Room Privacy Sealed.”

“Who would privacy lock your room?” Arion asked.

“Maybe Telsh,” Gavit replied.

Chris shook her head. “No, she and the others said they were going to spend time with Milius then the woods, so they won’t be back until late.”

Maybe I should speak to Milius too, Arion reflected.  “Probably Marda then, she and Blazer were both seriously exhausted.  I’ll bet he did the same thing to our room, to make sure he could get some uninterrupted rest. Right, Rudjick?” he commented, eyeing their elfin member.

“I take offense to that. Quit with the elfish stereotypes, not every elf is a jokester,” he paused for a moment, his ears twitching the way they did when he thought of some mischief. “Well I am, but not every elf is like me.”

The rest of the team chuckled, as their little personnel robot hovered up to them. “This unit can unlock the door if you like, ma’am.”

Gokhead looked down at the squat boxy robot.  Aside from breakfast and the marathon, he had spent every waking moment since their release looking for this automaton. “Where have you been?”

“Pardon me, sir, but this unit has just come from robot repair. This unit was only just informed of your release from the simulation facility. This unit is now fully functional.”

Gokhead stared at the robot a moment. “Really? Well, I’ll be checking that story.”

The robot turned back to Gokhead, fixing him with its robotic eyes. It was an unusual move for one of these robots. “You will find that records show this unit was there.”

“Just deal with it later,” Arion snapped, too tired to think. “Open the door, please. We can all do with some rest.”

The robot made short work of the lock, and the door slid open. The room remained dark, save for a single glow panel. Bichard’s antennae perked up and he twitched to get a better view before Chris pushed past him and keyed the lights up to half intensity. “This is my room, Bichard, you can do my hair next cycle.”

Chris stopped dead in her tracks. Blazer and Marda lay in Marda’s bunk, the sheets not even close to covering their sweaty, naked forms. Covering her mouth, Chris backed into the hall.

Arion took a quick look and spotted the Starfire Opal on Marda’s finger.  Shreg on a stick, did they get married?  He keyed the door shut and looked at the door panel. Marda had engaged the lock several hects earlier, and judging by their appearance, they had just completed a sexual marathon.

“Did I just see that, Arion?” Chris asked.

Arion nodded.  “You mean Blazer and Marda, naked, together, yes.”  Shut up man, that was private.

Gavit shook his head and commented. “I guess I owe Deniv.”

Chris looked over at him with a questioning gaze. Gavit noticed and explained. “We had a bet.”

Chris punched him in the arm.

“What was that for?”

“Because Deniv’s not here.”

“Yeah, well,” Gavit replied, and to Arion’s amazement, he almost looked sheepish.

“No, you don’t understand,” Arion said, turning to face them. “She’s wearing the Vaughnt family ring.”

Bichard perked up and smiled his hideous smile. Gavit and Chris nodded, but Zithe and Rudjick only shrugged. For Anulians, the passing of a family relic or heirloom was common upon marriage. Amongst the Scibean nations gifts of jewelry always were the tradition, but Zithe and Rudjick were from the Duwn Valley where land or animals were the preferred gift.

“Does that mean they’re married now?” Bichard asked, his antennae buzzing.

Can’t be, we still haven’t completed our first full annura. What else could it be, a promise, insurance from Blazer that they will?  Arion felt his stomach twist at the thought, then he looked back at the wall and realized that it felt right.  She’s not Lazith, and Blazer is not the man he was back then. They’ve grown and been through a lot together. This could work.

Everyone but Zithe cheered, though keeping the revelry to a minimum. Zithe just shook his head. “They can’t get married until after they complete their first annura at the academy,” he growled.

Arion nodded. “That’s right, Blazer’s just made the promise that they will.”

Zithe shook his head again. “It’s a foolish thing to do. They don’t even know if they’ll both make it to graduation.”

Rudjick elbowed Zithe. “Come on, big guy, we need to celebrate this. Live for the cycle.”

As if on cue, Porc rushed past them, a stein the size of his head in his hand. He didn’t stop until he reached the lift, then spun about to face them. “Come on, you guys. Mendrick has drinks on the house for the whole first annura class for the next hect, celebrating some damn fools getting engaged.”

The team looked back at the room, then to Zithe.

“Well, Zithe, as one of our two possible leaders, I put it in your capable hands,” Arion announced. “Do we go to Mendrick’s and celebrate our friends pending union, or do we return to our rooms?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Hold the lift, Porc, we’re coming,” Zithe announced, and the Blade Force joined the celebration.

UCSB DATE: 1001.034

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Drill Field 2

Blazer couldn’t help but smile as he headed to the drill field with the rest of his team. It didn’t even dampen his spirits that Chertsin and Saldray had made it through the initial round of Special Operations training. In fact, the surprise that Chertsin had challenged Blazer to a game of Slamball proved a welcome one. It would give the Blade Force a chance to see what their three newest members were made of. Blazer followed behind Marda, staring at her rear as she spoke with Chris, memories of how they’d spent the last few cycles forcing him to alter his walk for a moment.

She even knows how I take my vitcaff. Sheol, Arion doesn’t know that, and we’ve been friends forever. It’ll be a shame to go back to class.

Marda looked back at Blazer. He turned away blushing, and Chris laughed.

Off to the side of the group, Blazer caught sight of Zithe and Gokhead in animated conversation. He headed towards them, the decision on who would lead the team was still unmade, and that would have to change this cycle. It would be difficult enough to integrate their three new members, but an unclear chain of command would lead to even more trouble than it already had.

Zithe, his shoulders tensed, stopped in his tracks ahead of Blazer, pulling Gokhead to a halt. “Just how deep did you weave yourself into the system to find that out?”

Gokhead looked taken aback and fixed Zithe with a hard glare. “I leave no trace of my weaves. I pull every string and stream clear before I exit a system.”

Zithe stared back at him. “Be sure of that. I won’t fail because you left a stray footprint somewhere you shouldn’t have been.”

Blazer stepped up to the pair and cleared his throat, announcing his presence. “What’s going on?”

Gokhead fumed and looked back at Blazer. “I was trying to figure out who the academy might assign to your team, see what holes they would want to fill. And like I was about to tell Zithe, I wasn’t going in anywhere that was classified or wasn’t open domain. I was merely checking the rosters of those that had made it through, noting the condition of their teams, and their specialties. For instance, I know that one of our skill gaps is for a sniper.”

Blazer nodded.  Makes sense. We’ve all qualified with small arms and assault weapons, but none of us has sniper training to my knowledge. That’s a huge gap in a squad this size.

Gavit chuckled as he approached the three of them. “You know, I used to know a guy. He’s a few annura older, back home, before I moved to Anul. He was one heck of a shot, would have made a great sniper. He could take, and I’m not kidding here, a chemical slug thrower rifle and shoot a blood parasite off a running wolf’s ear from a full klick, and not even singe the fur.”

Zithe scoffed at the idea and they continued walking, catching up to the rest of the team, the drill field empty except for Deniv as he waited in his old black referee uniform. Blazer smiled. Deniv was a skilled referee and would remain impartial in the match against Chertsin’s team. Though it pained Blazer to not have Deniv on his team anymore, at least he had decided to stay in the academy.

“No, I’m serious, he was that good,” Gavit went on. “He loved skiing too, back on Ferelias that was a big thing. The planet the post orbited was covered in snow and ice.”

Zithe gave him a questioning look. “I thought you were from Scibe.”

“I wasn’t born there. I was born on Ferelias Post. I only moved back to Old Anul when I was ten annura old.”

Chris looked at him. “No wonder, you never struck me as your typical Old Anul born Scibean.”

Gavit shrugged. “I’ll take that as a compliment. So Gokhead, who else?”

“Well, as good as we all are as pilots, Marda is the only one who has experience piloting larger craft, like dropships.”

Marda nodded. “True. I think I’m the only one here with heavy shuttle time.”

“Datt and Treb both did, though. They flew transport back on Zel-Tag, but they’re gone, so I’d say we’re looking for a pilot and WSO crew who specialize in transport flying.”

Blazer liked the sound of that. The latest Phantom Phunny cartoon Datt had transmitted from home, and Gokhead posted to the academy intra-weave, had helped to settle some of the rumors going around about how they’d got out of the sims early. To his surprise, even Drill Sergenat Korto came to their aid on that front, shooting down all the conspiracy theories before they could propagate.

Gavit was their most skilled pilot, but he was fighter jock through and through, not a transport driver. And Marda, while she was a skilled and versatile pilot, was also the team’s medic. They couldn’t have her stuck on a dropship while the rest were out in the field and might need her.

Even Zithe seemed to like the idea. “So that’s the three then?” Zithe asked.

“Were you able to get any names?” Chris asked.

“That should be the three, yes, but no. I wasn’t able to get any names for certain, but I was able to prune the list down to a handful of Spec Ops cadet names for each slot.”

Blazer considered that. He’d met, or at least seen, everyone in their academy class while maintaining the fighters of at least half of them the annura before. He remembered a few sniper candidates, but had no idea how they, or their teams, had fared the last couple of decles. He considered asking to see the list of names Gokhead had come up with, but spotted three men headed their way, led by an older man with sandy brown hair showing streaks of grey.

Gavit caught the look, turned, and jumped towards the approaching men. “Matt, Matt Talkerna!”

The man turned to look at Gavit, fatigue in his eyes.  “Holy Shreg, did they seriously just assign me to the same team as you?” he asked as he rushed towards the man.  The two of them met in a friendly embrace.  “I can’t believe it.  I mean, I heard you were at the academy, but I had no idea this was your team I’d been assigned to.”

Blazer looked the man over. He was at least five annura older than the rest of them. If he had to guess, he was a senior non-com, and from the lines around his eyes, their sniper. “I take it you two know each other?”

Gavit nodded like a kid. “Yeah, guys, this is that crazy-good shot I was telling you all about. Wow, I had no idea. I never thought you would ever leave Ferelias.”

Matt scoffed. “Come on, everyone knew, even as kids, that I was going to join Confed and be a sniper. I was in the reserves back on Ferelias, took the top slot in sniper school, and was even sent on three separate behind the lines assignments.”

“But what are you doing here?”

“Well, when you save a general in a counter sniping operation, they tend to get grateful. He said it was a waste of my talent keeping me on Ferelias Post.”

“Wow, small universe, huh?”

Matt shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen anyone else from Ferelias anywhere else I’ve been. It’s just random chance, I think.”

Gavit looked down and noted a tattoo on the back of Matt’s hand. On the colonies where resources were scarce, and marriage oftentimes was a matter of survival, tattoos were common to show engagements. The tattoos were identical between the engaged couple, and were completed as part of the marriage ceremony. He grabbed it and held it up, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m engaged. I’ll fill you in later,” Matt said, pulling his hand away.

“But…”

“I said, I’ll fill you in later.” He motioned to the other new recruits. One of them, with flame-red hair, looked like he was about to fall over as he seemed to sleep standing there. “I ought to introduce these two, first.”

“No, it’s okay, it feels good to be on our real feet again,” the darker-haired, more alert one commented. His red-haired friend gave a weary thumbs-up.

Blazer motioned them to speak, Zithe remaining quiet for some reason.

“Okay then, allow me,” the dark-haired man offered. “I’m Mikle Tager, dropship pilot extraordinaire,” he announced with a half bow and a wink at Chris.

Chris shook her head in dismissal.

Blazer took it for the usual boasting of many a pilot but stopped short when he spotted, on Mikle’s uniform, a set of full UCSB wings—not just the gold Taurus of spaceflight overlaid over the inverted silver Taurus of atmospheric flight, but also the azure ring of a hyperspace pilot circling the center where they crossed.

“You’re a hyperspace pilot?” Chris asked in disbelief before Blazer could.

“Oh, these,” he said fingering the adornment. “My parents were cargo pilots, flew, well still fly, one of those giant mega-freighters. I grew up flying that beast and graduated to apprentice hyperspace navigator before I enlisted.”

A grunt from his red-haired companion interrupted him.

“Sorry, I mean when we both joined up. See, old Seaver here and I were friends back then. His parents ran the supply depot we used on most of our trips.”

“Just call me Acknit,” the sleepy-eyed man offered, looking up for a brief moment.

“We used to ‘borrow’ the drop shuttles all the time and go joyriding down to the nearby planet. We considered going to warrant officer school, just so we could be pilots, but after the incident with that Geffer patrol, we were offered full commissions and jumped at the chance.”

“You jumped,” Acknit corrected. “I just accepted, and here I am.”

“No offense, guys, but how did you make it through the last two decles?” Zithe inquired focusing most of his question on Acknit.

“Oh, don’t let our appearance fool you,” Mikle explained.  “We’re as tough as anyone else in our old units.  This guy here just likes to lull the enemy into a false sense of security, playing slow and dumb until he smacks the living Sheol out of them.”

Acknit smiled, perking up for a moment to reveal his ‘fighting face.’ His sleepy eyes sprang open with a briefly shocking intensity before returning to a deceptively semi-comatose state.

Blazer wasn’t sure what to make of these three. Matt looked like he had his head on straight, but he wasn’t sure about the other two. Looking around, he spotted Chertsin’s team approaching and turned to Zithe.

Zithe saw them too and closed on Blazer. “It’s do or die time. We can’t both be the team leader.”

Blazer swallowed hard.  Zithe’s right, we’ve got too much on the line, not just this game, but the future of our team and careers.  “You’re right,” he said, turning to the team.  How do we decide?  Seri was supposed to render the decision, but she had died four decles back without naming a successor.

“Forgive the old guy who only just now joined the group,” Matt said, “but from what I’ve read about this team,” he pointed to Blazer and Zithe, “I know you have two strong leaders vying for command.”

Blazer moved to say something, but Matt waved him down.

“I know that one of you says he doesn’t want it, but let’s face it. We all know who got you out of the sim early.” He met the questioning gazes of the team and continued. “Yeah, it was all around last cycle. We also all know who led you down the tendril, pretty much intact too from the scuttlebutt. And, we know who has consistently led you to victory in combat exercises. Sometimes the person who wants to be the leader isn’t the one most cut out for it,” he went on nodding to Zithe. “Not to say that person can’t lead, but sometimes they have to go through a bit more growth.”

Matt turned to address the rest of the team. “Seri did an excellent job leading this team, and grooming her potential replacements as squadron commander. But, the reins have already passed to the obvious choice. I think the name of this team should change to reflect that.” He looked over them all. “Blade Force fits, but you guys are also trailblazers.”

The team looked at him and at Blazer in turn.

“And that’s a good thing. You’ve shown that you don’t have to sacrifice your own in order to succeed. You were the first to come home from that exercise. I say you are, we are, the Blazer Force.”

“No, you’re not naming the team after me!” Blazer protested, sure that this was wrong.

“You’re right, we’re not,” Matt continued. “We’re all trailblazers here. We’re not Blazer’s Force or Blazer’s Commandos,” he said, looking at Chertsin for a second time. It had gotten around by now that Chertsin had left team members behind on the tendril run. “This is the Blazer Force, and just because we go by that nickname doesn’t mean that we’re naming ourselves after you.”

“I agree,” Zithe asserted opposite Blazer. “I agree that I am not yet ready to lead. I will command a ship some cycle, but not this team, not yet. Blazer is the one to lead this team now. Those who agree, show by hands.”

Everyone but Blazer raised their hand. Blazer couldn’t believe it. They had just elected him leader, and the team wanted to change their name to match.

“Then it’s decided,” Zithe announced. “Gokhead, get that recorded before Blazer comes out of his stupor and decides to stop you,” he took Blazer’s hand. “Congratulations team leader Vaughnt, the Blazer Force are yours, do well by them.”

Blazer looked up at Zithe and nodded. There would be no formal change of command here, but he knew he had to say something to cement the change. Therefore, with Zithe behind him, he addressed his team. It felt good, it felt right. He felt a bit like he’d been shoved in front of a launching rocket, but he had to respect the team’s choice.

“I accept leadership of the Blade Force.”

Matt and Zithe looked to say something but Blazer waved them down.

“I will lead the Blade Force, not the Blazer Force. Seri was our first leader. She showed us the way, and she named this team. I intend to keep that name as a way to honor her and carry on in her name.”

Marda gave him a nod and a smile.

Matt made to protest, and Gavit too. “But like I said…”

“Matt, you didn’t serve under Seri, so I understand where you’re coming from.” He motioned towards Chertsin’s team. “No matter how you say it, Blazer, or Blazer’s, it would still appear that we’re named after me. It would look like an ego trip on my part, and I won’t stand for it. In the names of the fallen, we carry on. In Seri’s name, we remain the Blade Force.”

Gavit elbowed Matt and the man nodded, conceding defeat.

“Gokhead make sure that register states that we are still Blade Force.”

Gokhead shrugged and made the change on his macomm.

“Zithe, I need you to be my second.”

“I accept, of course, but some cycle you will call me sir, when I have my own ship to command,” he replied with a wry smile.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chertsin sauntered up before anyone could continue, Saldray in tow as always. His team waited on the other end of the field warming up. “So, I guess you’re the leader then, Vaughnt,” he began, condescension in his voice. “I’d say congratulations, but, you know…”

Blazer fought back his own displeasure at the comment, the team’s body language screaming it for him. “My team and I stand ready, Chertsin,” he cast an eye at Chertsin’s team, better than half of them were new to Chertsin. “The majority of mine at least know my style. Are you sure you want to go into this with an untested team?”

Chertsin eyed him, his lip twisting in disgust. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got Slamball Champions on my team, you don’t stand a chance.”

Blazer glanced downfield, and his eyes went wide.  He recognized most of Chertsin’s new men and sure enough, they had all played on Championship teams.  Two of them had played on the Demons, the team that had beaten Blazer’s Silver Canyon Doradoes back when he was in school.  He shot a look at Arion, who nodded back. Swallowing, Blazer turned back to Chertsin. “A team is more than the sum of its parts.”

***

The air burst out of Blazer’s lungs as he slammed to the ground.  Sum of its parts or not, these guys are good.  I can’t remember the last time I—no, scratch that—it was the slamball final those Demons beat us in.  He looked at the sidelines, where Marda sat nursing the injuries of Gokhead and Zithe. Even Zithe’s lycan physiology wouldn’t let him heal a broken arm in an instant.

How much time is left? Climbing back to his feet, he saw the answer on the back of Deniv’s shirt.

“10.58 pulses, Score, BF:23, CC: 24.”

That didn’t give him much time. He turned to look at his defenders; Mikle and Acknit were doing a competent job of it with Bichard in the lead. To Blazer’s surprise, Acknit had proven to be a veritable ball of energy on the field. Blazer only wished that Mikle could stay as focused. The man flirted with every female who happened to pass by the field, regardless of species, when they were on defense.

They’d done well so far, but they couldn’t last much longer.  Blazer turned to the sidelines, where Chertsin sat smirking.  He hadn’t been in the game since the first quarter, letting his newest teammates handle the brunt of it.  That’s it, Blazer decided, running up to Deniv

“Hey, Ref, they’ve got players sitting out most of the game, so what’s the deal?”

Deniv looked at the sideline then back to Blazer as Gavit prepared to toss the ball back into play.  “This isn’t the kiddies leagues, Blazer.  There is no minimum play requirement.”

Blazer nodded and turned back towards the sideline. “Well it’s good to see that Chertsin has learned how to delegate. If he stays out of the action permanently, his team might graduate after all.”

Chertsin’s face went red with rage and he looked out at the field.  His new man Talik, the Demon’s co-captain all those annura ago, had been leading the team ever since Chertsin had stepped off the field.  Under him they’d tied up what had been, until that point, a near shutout for the Blade Force. “Talik, take a breather,” Chertsin called, and he ran onto the field.

Blazer held back a smile and turned back to his team, well aware of the evil grin on Zithe’s face. “Chris, I want you to go for the ball. Arion, mark her flanks, and Rudjick, you get to bug Chertsin.”

Rudjick smiled. “Seriously?”

“I’m as serious as a hull breech,” Blazer replied. He nodded to Matt and motioned towards Chris.

Deniv blew the whistle, and Matt let the ball fly.

Chris intercepted and ran for the goal, Arion rushing ahead of her to knock defenders out of her path.

Blazer’s pulse pounded as he chased them. Chertsin appeared on a bee-line to intercept Chris, but Rudjick ran past and clipped his ankle. Chertsin tumbled to the grass and raged at Rudjick. “What the Sheol, elf? Watch where you’re going!”

Blazer grinned as Rudjick shrugged at Chertsin and headed down the field. Saldray, however, heard Chertsin’s calls and rushed after Rudjick, his instinct to protect his friend forcing him to leave the goal exposed. Chris dropped the ball and kicked it through the upper hoop.

“Four points!” she called out.

Deniv’s whistle sounded, and the teams headed back for the next kick off.

Blazer backpedaled to his assigned position and waved Rudjick towards him, Saldray breaking off his pursuit to help Cherstsin to his feet. “I don’t care what you have to do, get that ball from Chertsin. Make yourself a target, then get it back to Matt. He’s good at the long-range plays.”

Rudjick screwed up his face and nodded, then turned to see Chertsin directing his troops, changing up their whole line. “You got it, boss.”

For the first time, Blazer didn’t flinch at the title.

When the whistle blew, Chertsin ran forward and scooped the ball off the ground.  Saldray and another Tomeris from his old team took up flanking positions.  That didn’t stop Rudjick, however. The nimble little elf weaved past Saldray.  Feinting to his left, he dropped behind Chertsin and kicked him in the back of the knees.

Chertsin collapsed to the grass and lost the ball. Chris scooped it up, but with a giant Tomeris man before her, she lobbed the ball back to Matt.

Matt ran forward, looking for an opening, but there was none.

“Arion, give him a vantage point!” Blazer hollered and caught sight of Rudjick dancing around Chertsin, drawing the ire of many on Chertsin’s team.  Good work, elf!

Arion turned, running backwards, and cupped his hands. Seeing that, Matt ran, jumped, set one foot in Arion’s offered hands, and let Arion launch him in the air. Matt soared above the field and lobbed the ball for all he was worth at the apex of his trajectory. The ball tore through the air. The other team jumped for it to no avail, and it sailed through the larger lower loop for one point.

Matt crashed to the ground with a huge grin on his face. Chris offered him a hand and he took it, smiling. “I would have gone for the upper loop, but my foot and arm aren’t exactly precision tuned firearms,” he laughed and his eyes changed shape, morphing like a telephoto lens.

“You’re a zoom?” Chris asked as they headed back to their end of the field.

“Yep, it helps when you’re a sniper.”

Blazer checked the score; BF:28, CC: 24. Even if they hung back for the two pulses remaining, they could still win. In any other case he would, but he wanted this to be decisive. Plus humiliating Chertsin would make it that much more satisfying. Chertsin was already so mad. Blazer swore that steam would come out of his ears any moment.

Suppressing a grin, he looked at his sideline. Zithe held his hands in a circle, and Gokhead pantomimed a man passing through his own left hand. Marda glared at Zithe to lower his arm that was wrapped in the speed-heal cast.

Blazer thought about that a moment.  When was the last time I did something that stupid?  Glancing forward, Arion nodded back at him.  That settled it, and he took up his position.

The whistle blew and Chertsin once again plucked the ball from the field, but this time Rudjick would be denied. The rest of Chertsin’s forward line tackled the elf, and Blazer heard what sounded like snapped bone echoing from the pile up. “Frag me sideways, Saldray, jerk me off or let go of my junk, man!” Rudjick called out, his voice pained.

Blazer shook it off and focused on Chertsin, whose hold on the ball was all wrong. He had it tucked hard against his chest, the muscles in his arms straining and the ball bulging. Blazer rushed Chersin, trying not to show what he was thinking. Chertsin smiled and held the ball tighter. Blazer kept his head still. He couldn’t risk revealing that Chertsin held it wrong. Chertsin shuffled left and Blazer mirrored the move, skipping to the right just before the two met, and matched Chertsin’s telegraphed feint.

Not even breaking stride, Blazer punched the ball from below, launching it out of Chertsin’s hands and over his head. Chertsin ground to a halt and spun about just as Blazer plucked the ball from the air and rushed towards the goal.

The watching crowd roared with laughter while Chertsin screamed at his team to intercept. But Blazer had a shield. Arion, Chris, Gavit and Matt beat back approaching defenders to open a path to the goal.

He pumped every iota of energy he had into his legs and ran for it, aware of Chertsin racing after him. He had to concentrate, though, and as he neared the goal, he leapt for the lower hoop, rolling over in the air to push the ball in front of his foot just as his head crossed through it. He released the ball with no time to spare, kicked it through the upper hoop, then pulled his legs back and sailed towards the grass beyond.

He crashed to the ground to the sound of cheers, and the ball fell on his chest. Blinking, he looked up at the score hovering above the hoops. BF:33, CC: 24. He leapt to his feet and cheered. The hoops had granted him four points for kicking the ball through the upper hoop and an extra point for a Maldron’s Dive through the lower!

The whistle blew three times, signaling the end of the match, and Blazer raced back to meet with his team.

“Foul!” Chertsin yelled, drawing Deniv’s ire.

“What foul?” Deniv asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“Not a foul, but the ref was biased, and my team was tired…”

“I have never been biased as a referee,” Deniv hollered, jumping in Chertsin’s face.

Should I jump in? Blazer debated with himself. Just then, though, Chertsin’s man Talik stepped in.

“Sir, respectfully, the ref was as impartial as I’ve seen. If anything, he called more fouls on the Blade Force. He’s not to blame for our loss. You and your ego are.”

Knowing better than to get into that mess, Blazer stayed with his team. They all looked exhausted but also energized. This was just what they needed, and still huffing, he cleared his throat. “Great game, people. I think Matt, Mikle and Acknit have proven themselves, for sure, and we have a great team here.”

The team hooted in appreciation.

Blazer had more he wanted to say, though. After taking a swig of water from the bottle Marda handed him, he turned back to the team. “Before next semester starts, we’re supposed to settle on a team specialty. From looking at the new makeup of our squad, I’m confident we can make it all the way without further losses. I don’t know how much you all have been thinking about it, but I have been, ever since we arrived. I’ve all but made up my own mind, but we need to make that decision as a team.”

“You going to keep us in suspense, or are you going to tell us?” Arion asked, using his shirt to wipe sweat from his hair.

“I’d rather hear what everyone else has to say first.”

“You already know what we’ll say,” Marda commented. “Look at our record. Look at how you’ve led us this far. You’ve never led us astray. So what are your thoughts on our future?”

Blazer was impressed with Marda’s candor.  She added a much-needed sense of stability and focus to the team.  “Well, after our little experience as prisoners, and seeing what it’s like behind the bars, I can appreciate what a POW must go through. I understand the fear of never getting out, the hope of getting home, and the helplessness you feel when your destiny is not yours to control. If you agree, I’d like to nominate Blade Force to help give people control of their destinies again. I want to free them from captivity and let them live the lives of free sentients. I think the Blade Force should commit itself to becoming a rescue team,” he announced, almost out of breath.

The team stood there in silence for several moments, everyone exchanging brief glances with one another as they considered Blazer’s words. Zithe turned to the team, the look on his face unreadable. “Though it felt more practiced than your earlier speeches, I say this. All in favor, raise your right,” he ordered, nodding at Blazer and raising his own speed-heal casted right hand.

Blazer watched in amazement as everyone raised their right hand in agreement, even Acknit, who otherwise seemed to be lying asleep in the grass.

Zithe elbowed Blazer.  “Your turn to make it unanimous, Blazer.”

Blazer raised his hand in response.

“Did you really think none of us knew what you were thinking? That this wasn’t the course you would lead us down? None of us would be here if it wasn’t.”

“So why did you let me make that little speech?” Blazer asked with a smile.

“Are you kidding?” Marda asked dryly. “You’ve been working on that since we got out of the sims. There was no way we were going to interrupt.”

Blazer laughed and leaned in to give her a kiss, but froze.  This isn’t the time or place, but we’ll get to that later!

“I agree,” Chris commented, ignoring the almost kiss. “What you said before, when we out on the rocks, it felt better. Wait, what about squadron lead?” Chris asked. “Who’s taking that slot?”

“I have no idea. The academy hasn’t said one word except that we’ll have a new squadron commander before we’re assigned our primary craft next annura. In the meantime, we’ll fly without one.”

Arion stepped up and slapped Blazer on the back. “That’s a topic for another cycle. For now, let’s get the Explosions to buy us drinks for hammering Chertsin.”

UCSB DATE: 1001.075

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Dorm Room 305

“We haven’t spoken since you left, how’s it been going there?” Matt’s fiancé, Lademine asked through the psi-comm screen.

Matt tossed a slam ball in the air and leaned back to catch it. “Good. I mean, the initial round of Special Ops was Sheol, but the last tridec has been pretty good. We’re really coming together as a team.”

“How many didn’t make it?”

Matt pulled up the stats on his macomm. “Well, only seven teams made it through once you count all the rebuilt ones. Then another fifty regular cadets washed or quit too.”

Gavit poked his head over the bed rail. “Wimps, they wouldn’t have made it through the first cycle of Spec Ops.”

“Oh my God, I thought you were joking in your last stitch when you said Gavit was on your new team,” Lademine replied. “When I told my dad, he said, ‘I can’t believe that little pervert hasn’t been locked up somewhere for pinching the wrong woman’s butt!’”

“He’s a little more suave than he used to be,” Matt responded with a chuckle, while Gavit did his best to ignore him. “He doesn’t pinch asses at random anymore. Something has really changed in him over the annura.”

“That’s crazy,” she replied, while mixing the contents of a green ceramic bowl with an old-fashioned wooden spoon. “Classes are going well here, and so is my job. Everyone here is really proud of you.”

“So what are you making there?” he inquired, as she added diced fruit to the mix.

“Well, I figured my big man might like a care package full of my specialty cookies.  I’m making enough that you can share them with your team,” she replied with a devilish wink, tipping the bowl so that he could see in.  “I should be able to send them out next cycle, stasis wrapped so they don’t go stale.”

“No, honey, don’t,” Matt replied with a smile. “I love your cookies, and the ones you bake too, but the cost to send it here...”

“Is nothing compared to sending some home-baked love to my man.”

“Just send me the autocook codes for it.”

“No way,” she replied, pointing the spoon at him, ingredients plastered on it. He could see her engagement tattoo, a mirror image of his own. “When you can find me an autocook that you can program love into and mix with the same care as I do, I will consider it. But not before then,” she said, pushing the bowl forward until only it and her cleavage filled the frame.

Matt held up his hands in defeat. He knew better than to argue with her about her cooking. “I miss you, Lademine.”

“I miss you too, love. So it’s going good with the new team right?”

“Very. Sheol, that Mikle guy is a great cook. But not as good as you, and the way he always breaks out that camera of his is driving me crazy!”

“Nice save there, honey. But Gavit Markus of all people. My God he was so, wow.”

“Yeah, I know, when he was younger, he was not the most subtle of individuals.”

“You’re forgetting arrogant, but it sounds like he’s settled down?”

“True, and yeah, he puts on airs sometimes, but it’s still there.”

“I take offense to that,” Gavit called, jumping down from his bunk and poking his head in front of Matt’s to talk to Lademine. “How’s it going, Lademine?”

“Good.”

“I still can’t believe that you’re marrying this,” Gavit paused, searching, “decrepit old man.”

“Well, I had to marry someone after you left me, ten Annura ago.”

Matt gave a mock hurt look in response and pushed Gavit out of the way. “Oh please, I’m only five annura older than you two and I know that you’ve had a crush on me since the cycle you got out of diapers.”

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.” All three had a good laugh at that. “You just keep my fiancé out of trouble, you hear? I’ve seen the reports of what you were up to in your racing time.”

“Hey, those stories are blown way out of proportion,” Gavit remarked.

“Sure they are,” Lademine replied, rolling her eyes. “I should have these done soon, and I will seal them and get them off to you next cycle. How long does it take to reach you?”

“Depending on the urgency and since it’s coming from Ferelias, probably a little over a decle.”

“I can put a higher priority on it.”

Matt thought about it for a moment. “No, it’s expensive enough as it is. The team can wait.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do, but you’re still spending too much time with Gavit, I’ll bet,” she said as a loud thump echoed through the station behind her. “What was…” she managed before the screen cut out and the psi-comm service symbol appeared.

Matt stabbed at the screen, trying to reestablish the connection.

“We are sorry, sir,” an operator said as he materialized on the screen. “It appears that the signal has been lost at the source and we are unable to reestablish, please try again later.”

“Damn,” Matt responded, leaning back in his seat. “A colony the size of Ferelias really needs a dedicated Psi-Comm station,” he moaned.

“Wait, are you telling me Ferelias is still on that old Tach Comm setup?” Gavit asked.

“We had a telapath there last annura, but he left. He never gave a good reason.”

Gavit shook his head. “At least tell me that they’ve upgraded the jump buoy to transmit through the buoy network.”

“No, too much interference between the settlement and the jump point. It’s transmitting to the cluster relay station a couple systems away. That’s what that half cent lag was. Not to worry, though, it was probably just a meteor that took out the antenna again. It’ll be up next cycle.”

“True, but hey, if we’re done, let’s get out of here for a bit.”

UCSB DATE: 1001.077

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Admiral Sares’ Office

For Admiral Sares, the cycle had progressed like any other. Sitting behind the desk in his massive office, he read over the intelligence reports of the cycle. He scanned through them not only to find new scenarios to use on his cadets, but to prepare for his cyclic brief to the academy.

Classification level too high, importance too low, good content, he considered each report, adding those that met his requirements to the list, then stopped.  What’s the point? How many cadets actually listen to this?  He resisted the urge to check the stats on how many cadets had just deleted his cyclic brief without playing it.  The dirt-side academies make these mandatory. I remember my own academy general even tested us on them. I won’t do that to my cadets, nor my officers, they have real work to do.

An urgent intelligence brief popped up over his desk. Hovering over the table like that told him the priority was high, for immediate reading. Such articles were only for major attacks occurring inside UCSB space and other news of similar importance. He opened the brief and the data presented turned his stomach. The images that accompanied it were no better.

The after-action summary filled out in haste by one of the UCSB’s forensic analysis teams concerned the backwater Ferelias Post, of all places. The admiral scrolled through pictures of the remains of the decimated orbital station, an older outpost of little military value, in an out of the way system. Pictures of Galactic Federation fighters and capital ships appeared in the brief as they assumed control of the space around Ferelias. It was an uninhabited orb, rich in natural resources, which had served as a mining world for generations.

Soon a blurry image of a massive blood-red Barker class carrier lit up before him.  He felt his blood go cold in recognition.  The splotchy blood-red and stygian-black paint adorning its hull made it that much more menacing to behold.  The Satan, he thought, referring to the GFS Barker by its more common nickname, one of the most feared starships in space.

The images alone told the story. Ferelias had been lost, and the chances that anyone had survived were remote. Reading through the briefing, the Admiral saw the small size of the outpost’s defensive militia. Even if they’d put up the most valiant of efforts, they could never have stood against the might of the Barker and its battle group. But why attack Ferelias Post? Was it a target of opportunity? Did bad intel guide them there?  The report didn’t say.

Reports had arrived from all over the UCSB for half an annura that the Barker had been making lightning raids. It rushed in and out of systems, leaving a swath of destruction in its wake, but it never stayed long. This had caused intelligence analysts to try and guess where or what the Barker’s next objective would be. Admiral Sares felt sure no one would have expected that it could have been Ferelias Post, and he was just as sure that Ferelias would not be its last stop.

“Chief,” the Admiral said, pressing the call button to his secretary.

“Yes, Admiral?” a crisp female voice replied.

“Do we have any cadets or staff from Ferelias Post?” he inquired, hoping the outpost had sent no cadets his way.

“We have four cadets and three staff. Those three are two enlisted and an officer from Ferelias.”

“Damn,” the Admiral replied, his hand off the call button, preferring not to let any of his subordinates hear him curse. “Page them all and have them report to my office straight away.”

“Yes sir, anything else?”

“Patch me through to the link center.”

“Yes sir,” she responded. 

Moments later, a hologram lit up with the face of the enlisted operator on duty at the station’s main telecommunications center.

“Admiral Sares, what can we do for you, sir?”

“Who is the officer on duty?”

“Mister Gorick, sir, but he doubles as a psi-comm operator,” the enlisted man commented. He motioned towards a row of lounges in the back, where two tree-trunk shaped Donvarions and a Drashig wore the interface helmets that tapped them into the academy’s main telecommunications grid. “I can bring him up, but it will take a few pulses. He’s always groggy when he unplugs.”

“No need for that now. I need you to initiate a total blackout for unclassified external links until further notice, is that understood?”

“Yes sir. It will only take me a few pulses. Should I blackout all links, sir or just news and communication?”

“All channels for now.”

“Yes sir,” the young comm tech replied, eyes wide.

The Admiral did not offer an explanation and shut down the link before the comm tech could ask; remembering something an old commander once told him. “Even if they want to, an Admiral doesn’t have to and should not explain all their actions.” The Admiral’s reasoning was simple though. He would rather that those under his command, from Ferelias Post, learn of its loss from him, not from some cold, impersonal newscaster with an unscrupulous source in UCSB intelligence or onboard the survey ship that had found the station.

***

Half a hect later, Gavit and Matt arrived in the waiting room outside the Admiral’s office, the last of those summoned by the Admiral. “Any idea why they called us in?” Gavit wondered aloud as they took their seats. The stern face of the Admiral’s secretary revealed nothing.

“None. Are you two from Ferelias?” a female Corporal with red sci/med stripes asked.

“Yeah,” Matt replied. “Although this one was transplanted a while back. How’d you know?”

The woman held up her hand, revealing her full marriage tattoo. “Always have to recognize.”

“Where have you served?” Matt asked, and the woman quickly reeled off a list of assignments.  The Tech Chief with the white flight ops stripes next to her did the same after revealing that he hailed from Ferelias Post as well.

“We’re from Ferelias too,” a cadet commented, pointing a thumb at the man next to him.

Everyone looked at the officer next to her. She nodded and Matt spun on the secretary, his stomach feeling like a black hole.

“This has something to do with the link blackout doesn’t it?” Matt demanded.

The gruff lady chief locked Matt in a hard stare. Before she could reply, a light on her desk blinked to life.

“The Admiral will see you all now,” she responded and, with a tap of a button, the door opened.

Matt took note of the soft light emerging through the open door.  The holograms that normally adorned the walls were off.  This isn’t good, he mused.  Everyone shuffled into the chamber in silence.  Fears of the worst danced through Matt’s mind.  Was the damage worse than I thought? Could the main reactor have been damaged? Did an ore freighter go off course and collide with the station?

“Be seated,” the Admiral ordered from the head of the massive conference table.

Everyone took seats near the head of the table, and the door closed behind them. The Admiral’s face remained grim.

The Admiral waited a moment, took a deep breath to calm himself, and began in a warm, personable tone. “As you may know, two cycles ago, contact was lost with Ferelias Post. When contact was not restored by last cycle, a local patrol cruiser was dispatched to investigate. According to intelligence estimates, at or around 21:65 standard clock time on 1001.075, Ferelias Post came under attack by a Galactic Federation battle group,” the Admiral announced.

Everyone tensed in response.  Matt felt his eyes go wide as he searched his memory.  It was 21:64 when the link to Lademine cut out.

“We have no idea at this time what transpired during the attack,” he said, throwing a series of virtual folders to them all across the table top.  “These images are graphic, and some of you might not want to see them, but the survey team took these upon arrival.”

Matt tapped open the data packet to look at the images.  He felt the blood drain from his face with each shot.  The blurry red streak of the GFS Barker in the final image set his blood aboil.

“As you can see, the orbital outpost over Ferelias was all but completely destroyed. You all have my deepest regrets.”

“The Satan,” Matt growled, staring at the image under his hand.

“Yes, it appears that the Satan Battle Group was responsible for the attack. No one in the intelligence community guessed the Galactic Federation would attack Ferelias.”

“Is the high command planning a retaliation strike or sending any forces to take Ferelias back?” the officer asked, looking at a picture of the decimated station, the main module no more than a blackened and crumpled bit of debris laying before him.

“A strike group is being assembled to retake the system. If the Satan remains there, though, it is unlikely that they will be able to do anything more than harass them.”

“Request permission to join the strike group,” Matt called out, jumping to his feet.

“Permission denied, Cadet. No one here is joining that strike group.”

“Then I’ll turn in my form 618-G,” Matt retorted, his breath heavy with rage.

“Matt, no,” Gavit responded, looking up at his friend.

“And I won’t accept it,” the Admiral replied. “You will forfeit any chance of becoming an officer if you do so. Any attempt to leave this facility to join the strike group will be considered a court-martial offense.”

“My fiancée was on Ferelias,” Matt declared, hitting the table hard enough to make the massive wooden edifice bounce. “As was my family. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“We may have all lost friends and loved ones on Ferelias,” the enlisted woman replied, her face red and eyes moist as she held back tears.  “But going there now, facing the Satan under-trained and ill-prepared, is suicide, regardless of our prior service.”

“Thank you,” the Admiral said to her.

Matt still seethed with rage as he stood by his overturned seat.  He looked up at the two newbie cadets, their faces flushed and pale, unable to speak.  Those pups don’t look like they could have completed basic yet, let alone but in their three annura needed before attending the academy.

“Cadet, please be seated.”

Matt looked at the Admiral, then back at the two silent cadets, and finally to Gavit. With nothing more than his eyes, Gavit pleaded to his friend to sit.

Without a word, Matt sat back down. The reality of the situation bore down on him like a falling space station. He found the same in the eyes of the others.

“I called you all here because I wanted to be the first to let you know this, not some damned reporter or a rash of rumors.  We think Ferelias is a target of opportunity, nothing more.  The Barker Battle Group under its new commander, Admiral Hackeron, has been staging raids throughout Confed space.  It’s diving through opportune jump points and creating havoc on the trade lanes.  We feel that it might be an attempt to find the Confed homeworlds or major inner systems.”

“Have they found a back door into the homeworlds?” the officer asked.

“Not as yet, we believe, and all the homeworlds have been put on alert, as has every system with an opportune jump point to a home system in hyperspace. They slipped up attacking Ferelias, I think. The outpost is far enough from the jump point that it will give us time to catch up with them.”

“Do we have a casualty estimate?” Matt asked.

The admiral looked at the report. “Unknown at this time since we have only the basic imagery taken by the investigating cruiser, but it is anticipated to be high. I will keep you apprised of any developments, and my door is open if you need anything.”

UCSB DATE: 1001.132

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Mendrick’s Bar and Grill

Another semester had come to a close, and Marda sat in Mendrick’s considering a new minor, namely Xeno-Biology. She had no particular desire to study the field more than her normal coursework entailed, but after this semester of Special Operations training it made a certain sense.

Most of the semester had focused on close combat, weapons training, tactics, and the biology of their enemies. They had learned countless vulnerable points on the physiology of the species that made up the Galactic Federation, and how best to exploit them. Sparring matches with robotic drones were commonplace, as were ambush attacks, between classes, by robots made to look like one of the Geffer races. It kept the Special Ops cadets on alert, ever vigilant to attack.

For now, however, she just relaxed and nursed her drink.

With the break upon them, most cadets were off on ship visits and base tours, shadowing officers whose specialty they were considering. Most of the Special Ops cadets opted out of such visits, too fatigued by the semester’s work. Instead, the academy brought in a guest lecturer, former special operations medic and retired Admiral, Admir Sadrick, Blazer’s grandfather. He regaled the cadets on his time in Special Operations Command, as well as gave general talks on leadership, the war, and the direction the Confederation had to take in order to win. Such guest lectures were common. Though the lectures were not technically mandatory, drill sergeants tended to roust out idle cadets and bring them if they remained on station.

The lectures for this cycle were long since over, and for now, the retired Admiral had joined his grandson and future granddaughter-in-law for dinner.  Marda remarked about her attack by a robotic Krad stand-in during her biology final two cycles before. “It came out of nowhere, and all I had was my light pen. So when it came close, I tackled it and jammed the light pen in its eye. Everyone looked at me like I was crazy, except the other Special Ops cadets. They clapped and one of them offered me his spare light pen since I’d ruined mine.”

Arion soon arrived, but seeing Marda with the Admiral and the orbs floating about, waved in at them and left. The Admiral raised a curious eyebrow to that. “What’s going on there?”

Blazer sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, he had an issue with Marda at first, but after she joined our team, he actually warmed to her.”

“He was downright friendly through our initial Special Operations training,” Marda continued. “The thing is, ever since, especially when we’re out and about, he’s gotten more moody.”

“Never in the sims, though,” Blazer remarked. “And more when the orbs are about, I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah, it’s like he’d like to see me shoved out an airlock some cycle. Right after you gave me your family ring, he gave me this huge bear hug, like he was saying welcome to the family. Then he went dark around me again. It’s weird.”

The Admiral nodded. “You’ve had a lot of change over the last annura, maybe Arion is just having trouble coping.”

“Maybe,” Blazer remarked, shrugging his shoulders. “I just wish whatever was bugging him he’d get over, you know?”

“Honestly, I think he just needs to get laid,” Marda laughed, and then covered her mouth, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I’ve been spending too much time with guys.”

Blazer gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re not getting it from me,” Blazer joked, and the Admiral looked on, pleased.

“So Marda, how’s your training in the medical corps going? I know a few of your instructors from my service there.”

They both raised eyebrows at him. It was an interesting revelation.

“Yes, even Tadeh Qudas, but that’s a story for another time.”

Blazer and Marda exchanged a look, both of them sure that story must be an interesting one.

“We served with each other a long while.”

That caused them both to stare in awe at him.  “Wait,” Blazer commented.  “You always told me that you had conducted operations with Telshin Tadeh Qudas Command. I figured out a while ago that you’d met the commander, but never that you’d served with him on your own squad.”

“I didn’t, well, yes. He was a member of my unit for over an annura after we’d first met.”

No way, Marda couldn’t believe it. Tadeh Qudas was such an enigma, and to find out that he and Blazer’s grandfather were once squadmates was too much. It made the universe feel much smaller knowing how close their lives were intertwined.

“But I’ve been talking far too much this cycle, how are you two doing?”

They looked at each other.

“We’re doing well,” Marda explained.

“Take care of that ring, young lady. It’s been passed down the Vaughnt family line now for generations. It’s special. I still remember when Jorden proposed to Laresse with it. So when are you planning the nuptials?”

Marda fitted Blazer with a gaze that sent him shrinking away. “We’ve tried to set the date but can’t settle on one. The regs said we couldn’t marry until after our first annura was complete.”

The Admiral nodded, having quoted that very reg to them on their last break.

“Which it is, now,” she went on. “But we’ve had precious little time to plan. Maybe next break?”

“If you really think we’ll have time to plan between now and then, sure,” Blazer chortled. “I can’t imagine Tadeh Qudas going any easier on us.”

The Admiral nodded and turned to the two orbs flitting about. “Are those two still bugging you?”

Blazer nodded. “Yeah, they found Marda when we were still on the transport to the academy and have been enamored with her ever since.”

“It doesn’t hurt that they keep telling me how enamored you are with me,” Marda shot back.

Blazer blushed. “Well, it was almost love at first sight.”

“Almost?” she asked.

He shrugged, smiling, and she leaned over to give him a quick kiss, the Admiral smiling at them both.

“Yeah, well, your grandmother keeps telling me,” she stopped before she could say more, pulling away and covering her mouth.  Shreg!

Both Blazer and the Admiral looked at her. “I didn’t know you’d been talking to Ma’am,” Blazer commented.

Marda felt like a trapped animal, looking for an escape while she decided what to say. She glanced between the two men. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’ve known for a while, but she said you didn’t and that I shouldn’t say.”

The Admiral’s face went flush, and he looked up at the orbs with distrust.  “She who and you’ve known what?”

She motioned towards one of the orbs, both men turning their eyes upon it.

The Admiral laid his hands on the table and fixed Marda with a serious look, tearing his eyes away from the orb. “You’re mistaken, correct, you misheard her, right? That orb is not Blazer’s grandmother.”

Marda didn’t understand. This should be a joyful, if awkward, moment, but the Admiral at least should know who she was. The orb had served under him, and had stayed in his home for over a decade after that. “Sir, you must have read her file. You have to know who she is.”

The Admiral shook his head. “The personnel file said that her name is Ally Sofair, Ally…” He trailed for a moment and then stared back at the orb.

“I don’t understand,” Marda stammered, on the defensive. “Why are you so upset that she’s Blazer’s grandmother?”

Blazer pushed away from the table, grabbed her by the hand, and pulled her close, away from the orbs. Both he and the Admiral fixed the grandmother orb with stone hard glares. It didn’t move, jitter, skitter, or twitter at them as the other orb backed away from it as well.

“I don’t understand. What’s wrong? Why are they so concerned?” she asked the orb.

The old woman who stood before her crossed her arms, a wicked smile across her face. “Ask them.”

She looked at them. “What is it?”

Blazer turned to his grandfather. “You tell her.”

The Admiral never took his eyes off the orb as he spoke, like it might escape if he did. “Blazer’s paternal grandmother is, was Kamden Krain, a war criminal.”

Marda’s blood went cold. “What? But she was a fleet orb, how could that be? The medium who assigned her would have had to recognize her. They never would have allowed her…”

“The name, Ally Sofare, it’s really A Lie So Far,” the admiral explained.

Marda looked at the spirit. “The old man finally figured it out, Ally Sofare, I liked that name,” the spirit giggled at her. “Too bad she never existed outside of a database.”

“Ally Sofare?” Marda asked, hesitating.

The Admiral nodded. “Yes, but now I think that A Lie So Far is more appropriate.”

“But how can she have been a criminal?”

“She was an Electrolite,” Blazer offered. “It’s one of the reasons my father and grandfather kept the Vaught name, to hide their relationship.”

Marda looked up at him. “What?”

Throughout Anulian history, after the cataclysm, different factions of genetic specialties had risen up in various attempts to seize power. Energy Gatherers were one of the few that did not, in the early post-outcome time. They were known as lightning thieves in that age, since they could steal the power of the lightning and use it against their enemies. In the old times, they were too few in number, and lightning too unpredictable, to give them much advantage over others. After the formation of the Confederation, the number of Energy Gatherers exploded as more people recognized that they carried the gene. They were much sought after for their power.

The Admiral, never taking his eyes from Kamden’s orb, explained.  “Over a hundred annura ago, while we waged war with the Galactic Federation, a terrorist cult calling themselves the Electrolites emerged out of the shadows.”

Kamden smiled in appreciation at the acknowledgement.

“The cult attempted to seize power on Anul and consolidate it under their own rule. When that failed, they attempted to take all the Energy Gatherers away to a world of their own, where they could breed ever more powerful Energy Gatherers. Kamden Krain had brought the cult back from the brink of extinction, and under her leadership, they’d begun a campaign of terror and murder over twenty five annura ago.”

Marda stiffened as she remembered those history lessons and went rigid when she remembered the Electrolites had only stopped with the death of their queen. “If Kamden’s spirit is truly here, than she needs to be captured.”

Kamden’s orb just hung there, its ethereal face looking unimpressed. The other orb flittered away. “Coward,” Kamden spat out in its wake, Marda the only person able to hear her.

Marda stared up at her in disbelief. “How? Any medium should have seen through the lie, should have seen that you weren’t Ally Sofare.”

Kamden looked down at her with pitying eyes. “You tell me, child. How?”

Marda shook with fear. Most spirits would appear to mediums how they looked upon their deaths. Others, as they spent more time as spirits, could change their appearance to match other points in their lives. Those were usually older souls, or powerful spirits. Marda had even heard of the spirit of an ancient singer and actor who often appeared to others centuries after his death, perpetuating the myth that he was still alive. For a spirit to change its appearance to another’s all together, though, meant that it possessed some dark power, or… “You’re allied with Negris,” Marda accused Kamden.

The spirit bowed before her. “Of course we are, how else could I have consolidated the power I did?”  To emphasize her point, Kamden changed form before Marda to look like three different women in rapid succession.

Marda looked at Blazer and the Admiral. “If this is Kamden Krain, then how and why is she here?”

“Because,” the spirit said, “I wanted to help raise my grandchildren. My poor son and his wife never knew the truth, especially considering,” she looked at the Admiral then turned away from him, scowling. “Especially considering who killed me.”

Marda looked at the Admiral. “Did you kill her?”

Blazer shot an accusatory look at him as well.

The Admiral shook his head. “No, I didn’t kill her, but I was there. I know who did.”

“Yes, you were there,” Kamden replied.

“She says she remembers you being there.”

“He was there,” Kamden said, “when my family rebelled against me, and attempted to leave the Electrolites.”

“Your whole family were Electrolites?” Marda asked, pulling away from Blazer, unable to believe that the man she loved came from a line of terrorists and murderers.

Blazer shook his head. “No.” He glared at the orb. “No Vaughnt was ever an Electrolite.”

Kamden rolled her ethereal eyes at the Admiral. “Don’t you fill their heads with lies, Kamden,” he commanded.

People in the bar stared at the group, and Mendrick was on the link with security.

“True, poor Grandfather Vaughnt didn’t know I was an Electrolite until it was too late. I kept him in the dark for so long, and then he tried to stop me, tried to take my son from me.”

“She said that your grandfather tried to steal your father away?”

“Yes,” Blazer nodded, “when he realized, who and what he had married, and why. She wanted to combine two bloodlines in order to breed a more powerful Energy Gatherer. He tried to get my father away and turn her in, but she killed him.”

Kamden smiled. “I was more powerful. He didn’t stand a chance against me.”

Marda turned to the Admiral. “Were you there?”

“Not when she killed him. I met them several annura later.”

“That’s right, when my son decided to marry that wonderful multiplier stepdaughter of yours.”

Marda looked at Blazer amazed. “If your mother was a multiplier, then Jell…”

Blazer continued to stare at the orb, as did the Admiral.

“We didn’t know until after Blazer was born,” the Admiral explained. “We thought she was,” he bit back the word, “a blank, like her mother and me.”

Marda understood his reluctance. She hated that term for the majority of Anulians who had no genetic specialty.

“We didn’t know that her father came from a multiplier line.”

Marda looked at Blazer. His mother had been one of the ultimate expressions of the Messiahist faith, her womb magnifying the genetic specialty of his father within her children. Blazer and his sister carried that gene and could pass it on to their children. Ever since the forces of the Scibean Army had wiped out the Multiplier Churches during the Vedek Wars, almost thirteen centuries earlier, few Multipliers knew they carried the gene before having children. It wasn’t even a gene that stood out in the genetics database.

“When Kamden first heard of Jorden’s proposal to Laresse, she opposed it, saying that he could never be allowed to marry a blank,” the Admiral explained. “He protested, saying that he loved her and didn’t care if she was a blank, didn’t care if his mother approved it or not. Then he said something that nearly floored me,” the Admiral went on. Blazer looked like he had never heard this before.

“At first I didn’t believe it, I thought it was just a story Jorden had heard. Young Energy Gatherers at the time were either enamored with or mortified by the Electrolites. He said, ‘I will not breed you your king of the Electrolites. I will marry this woman I love and have children we will love even more, no matter their level of power.’ I wanted so badly to deny it. This woman couldn’t be an Electrolite, but her denial of my stepdaughter’s engagement to her son, smacked too much of what the Electrolites believed.”

“That’s right, you put it together, clever man,” Kamden sneered.

The Admiral swallowed and fingered the scar of an electrical burn where his neck met his shoulder.

Blazer stared for a moment then turned back to Kamden. “You tried to kill the Admiral.”

“He did try to shoot me,” she replied, playing the image of him drawing on her into their minds.

“She was faster,” the Admiral remarked.

Kamden laughed and looked at Blazer. “I’m just the dirty little secret of the Vaughnt family, aren’t I? My dear Schan and his precious sister Jell don’t even know the best part yet,” Marda relayed every word as Kamden spoke it.

Marda looked at Blazer, he looked back at her, and then they both looked back at the orb.  Who could have killed such a powerful Energy Gatherer?  She could outdraw the Admiral when he was in his prime, and he could still outdraw many, even with the injured shoulder.

Blazer stood, pushing Marda behind him. “My father killed you.”

Kamden laughed, the orb chittered and spluttered, and Blazer winced at the laughter penetrating his mind. “That’s right, little boy!”

Marda felt tears welling up in her eyes. This man that she loved came from a family of murderers.  No, no, only this woman, this aberration, was a killer.

“He denounced me,” Marda relayed, before realizing her mistake. By relaying Kamden’s responses word for word, she’d left herself open to sync up with her, and the orb plunged into her body.

Marda lost all sensation as Kamden took control of her body. She tried to blink, but her body refused to respond. The sight, sounds and smells of the bar still flowed into her mind, but she felt detached from it. She tried to fight back as her head raised and looked up at Blazer. The look on Blazer’s face was one of horror and Marda screamed, pleading to him for help, but the words that escaped her lips were not her own.

“That’s right little boy, your daddy killed me.”

The Admiral was on his feet, his plaser pistol in his hand as he leveled it on the possessed Marda.

Blazer leapt between them, “Don’t!”

Even Mendrick had his Mosdet particle rifle out from beneath the bar, leveling it on Marda, and Blazer raised his hand to him as well. “No, stop, please, she’s been possessed, you’ll just kill Marda.”

In Marda’s body, Kamden looked from side to side. “Yes, imagine my shock when my son denounced me, denounced the Electrolite way, and attacked me. He killed me, my own son killed me! But I suppose it was for the best, in the end. He and his Multiplier bride did breed you and your sister.” She raised a hand to touch Blazer’s face, and he slapped it away.

Marda felt the sting of that slap, but could do nothing about it. The guilt on Blazer’s face chilled her trapped soul.

“Get out of her,” Blazer scowled, his eyes searching for any hint of Marda.

Marda fought back against Kamden. She dove into her own memories, searching for a way to fight possession.

“Get out of the medium? I don’t see why I should. Little bitch revealed me.” She looked back at Blazer. “Don’t you ever wonder why you’re so much more powerful than your father?”

Blazer shook his head, angry refusal on his face.

“But you are, darling!” She looked at the Admiral then back to Blazer. “I’ve read this little girl’s mind. It’s my new playground and I’ve seen your profiles. Don’t forget, I was there when you fried those, what were they called? Oh yes, those Vermba. Then I saw you do it again in your training. You are so much more powerful than your father, more powerful even than me. You could be far MORE powerful, too, if only you would unleash your talent.”

Marda knew how Blazer wrestled with his abilities.  How he tried to only ever use them as a last resort.  Was all that some refusal of his of the Electrolite way and Kamden’s ideals?

“Your father did give me my Electrolite King and Queen,” Kamden said, turning to the Admiral.  “But he gave it all up to you, told you of all my contacts and allowed you to wipe them out.”

“The revelation that he was the Electrolite King that Kamden wanted nearly washed him out,” the Admiral replied.  “Kamden convinced him to join the academy to become highly placed in the Confederation in support of the Electrolite cause you raised him in.  But once Jorden found out the truth, he rejected your teachings.  He set up our meeting all those annura ago, not only to announce his engagement, but also to reveal you, Kamden.”

Kamden/Marda rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “Such as it is.” She then looked over at Mendrick. “Good to see you, Mendrick. You’ve put on some weight. Makes you look like Sheol.”

Mendrick cocked the old rifle, recharging the power cell and brought it to his shoulder. “Say it again Kamden, and I don’t care. If it means eliminating you, I’ll risk killing the girl.”

Tendrils of sparking power lit up the hairs on Blazer’s arms as he eyed the two men. Marda wished she could do something to stop him. He would attack them, to try and save her.

The Admiral spotted it too. “Don’t do it, Blazer, it’s what she wants.”

“But now you… and this little tramp…”

“Don’t you dare call her that!” Blazer roared and raised his hand, electricity sparking between his fingers, his focus firmly on Kamden/Marda.

Marda would have shuddered if she could as she looked into those eyes. She had never met those eyes when they were angry, and this was so much more than anger, this was hatred and rage.

“Oh, please!  Don’t pretend you don’t know how badly this girl wants you to take her to bed again, throw her down, take her all duwn long.  I’m almost sorry I’ve been preventing it.  But could you imagine?  You and a medium, what kind of child would that breed?  With your conception blocks in, I could allow it.   It released some of the tension.  But breed with her?  No.  I have plans for you and your sister.  Two strong Energy Gatherers with Multiplier genes? The child you produce would be a god.”

Marda’s mind clouded with anger.  But Kamden had made a mistake.  A door once opened can be traversed in both directions, and she saw into Kamden’s own memories.  She saw that it was Kamden who had fouled the shields on the Feral bomber they had taken out the semester before.  Saw that Kamden would inspect their conception blocks every time they came close to making love, ruining the moment with her intrusive presence.  To see that she planned to breed Blazer and Jell, like some line-bred farm animals, revolted her beyond belief.  How sick is this woman?  And Marda saw that it was not just Kamden inside her, but bits of others as well, centuries old, experience fragments from too many souls for her to count, even Negris!

“But you’ll never marry this woman, I’ll see to that,” Kamden screeched.  “Of course, if you paid more attention to your friend, it never would have gotten even this far.”

Blazer’s eyes went wide and Marda saw the truth.  Arion knew, somehow. He could feel Kamden’s lie.  Does Arion possess medium abilities, or has he touched the spirit level in some way?

“He feels it. My presence around her allowed him to perceive just a glimpse of who I really am. But I fooled the poor sap into thinking the aura he was catching a glimpse of was hers, not mine. Oh, but now I have this little girl’s body, and she’s revealed me, and I can put my plans back into play.” She looked at Blazer, met his eyes. “See, even though my grandson hates me, he’ll never allow anyone to hurt his love. He’ll destroy anyone in his path if he has to just to keep this body safe. And he will do just that…”

Marda couldn’t wait any longer. She would not allow this sick woman to use her or Blazer this way. She used every iota of her will to wrest back control of her body. Kamden/Marda jerked back with such violence, she was surprised she didn’t break her own spine.

“Marda, no, wait for another medium,” the Admiral ordered.

Marda felt both light and darkness engulf her as she fought against Kamden. She felt her face and body contort as she tore Kamden away and regained control of herself. “Get out of my body!” Marda screamed, grabbing at her head.

“Blazer, talk to her, tell her to stop! We have to keep Kamden in there!” the Admiral ordered.

Blazer looked at his grandfather, incredulous. “Are you crazy? She’s killing her.”

“No, Marda can contain her. You miscalculated, Kamden,” the Admiral said and Kamden fought to look at him as Marda fought her every action. “You didn’t jump into some spirit talker. You jumped into a medium of the Sciminder line. You can’t get out of her while she’s alive, not unless another pulls you out.”

Kamden/Marda looked at him, her face contorted. “Oh, but if I kill her, I won’t allow her…”

Marda howled in pain and pulled her hands away from her face. The brilliance of the glowing spirit orb that she ripped free proved blinding. Both men staggered away.

“Who’s in there?” the Admiral demanded, his weapon still leveled on her.

Marda looked at them both. “I am.”

“Who’s I?”

Marda looked down at the orb. “I may not have the power to destroy you, but I can make sure that you’ll never do this to another.”

Marda looked at Kamden’s face in her hands. “Don’t, you don’t know what you’re doing. He and his sister could be great. They and their children could have the power to end this war.”

She stared back into the insane spirit’s eyes. “And then what? Create your Electrolite God? I don’t think so. You have manipulated me long enough, prevented me from being with the man I love…”

“I meant no harm, child. It was a mistake not letting you two be together, I see that now…”

“You won’t let us be together, won’t let us have a family, won’t let us,” Marda screamed and began to push her hands together.  She watched the pain and fear in Kamden’s eyes, felt her rage and terror as she recognized what Marda was doing.

Blazer and the Admiral watched as well. “Marda, stop, I’m ordering you!” the Admiral hollered.

“You can’t order me. You’re retired, and this is a matter for my kind, one you should have solved long ago.”

There was danger in this. If Marda could not seal Kamden as she intended, the attempt would leave her too weak to fight Kamden off a second time, and that evil spirit could possess her again, this time forever. If she did it right, on the other hand, she could make the quantum tubules of the orb manifest and trap them forever in the ethereal plane. Feeling that she had no choice, she focused. Her training under her grandmother’s tutelage had never covered this, but she followed her instincts and wound the tubules together, binding them. Before her eyes, the orb dimmed. The tendrils of energy that writhed about its surface receded into a lumpy core. She felt Kamden’s spirit weaken as it raged against her, and finally felt nothing of Kamden but the object in her hands. Marda released the orb and it fell to the floor without a sound, an irregular grey sphere that her eyes could not focus upon.

Dozens of orbs rose up throughout the room and surrounded the pale ball, lighting the room with their ethereal glow. Everyone watched as they circled Marda and the orb on the floor. “You are sealed!” Marda declared.

“You can’t do this to me,” Kamden spat at her.

The orb attempted to roll away. It was the next best thing to physical now, hence vulnerable.

Blazer jumped out of its way.

“I’ve dispelled too much of your energy, Kamden,” Marda explained, feeling the world spin around her.

The other orbs surrounded Kamden’s and lifted it from the deck. Marda watched as the spirits of a half dozen races lifted Kamden’s ethereal form from the floor, her body bound in straps of flesh.

Kamden thrashed against them.

“Your evil can’t save you now.  In fact, the very evil you allowed into your spirit now binds you.”  She looked at the other orbs. “Find out everything you can from her. Find out how much of her cult is still active, and if they are after Jell.”

Kamden screamed. “No, you’ll never get that information from me!”

Most assumed that the Electrolite cult was dead, but many theorized that sleeper cells still existed. Kamden would know for certain. The orbs and other mediums questioning her would find out soon enough.

The other orb that accompanied Blazer drew in close to him, and he looked at it, as the others took Kamden away. “And just who are you?”

Marda looked back at him. “He was a crewman on the Vaurnel, I know you may…”

“No, I don’t need any more dead relatives visiting me.”

Marda collapsed, and Blazer caught her before she could hit the floor. He sat her back into her chair. “Are you all right?”

“That wasn’t something I was properly trained to do.”

The Admiral rushed over, taking her hand and checking her pulse as Mendrick rushed up with a drink of water. “That was foolish, girl, but you stopped her, might even earn a medal for it.”

Marda shook her head as Mendrick helped her take her first sip. “No, I should have seen who she was this whole time. I could have stopped her long ago.”

The Admiral shook his head. “No, Kamden was a tricky one. I doubt any other medium would have recognized her. Did you ever even see her as Kamden before this cycle?”

Marda shook her head. Kamden only appeared in her true form after Marda had accidentally revealed her. “Wait, what about Jell? When she was in me, I could tell that she has people watching her.”

“I have bodyguards watching her,” the Admiral assured her. “If the Electrolites that remain make a move, we’ll get them.”

Blazer looked at his grandfather. “How long have you had us watched?”

“Your whole lives, but with Kamden sealed, we might finally see a true end to the Electrolite threat.”

“I hope so,” Marda commented. “Now, can someone please take me to medical, I’m not feel...”

UCSB DATE: 1001.133

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Medical

Admiral Sadrick slumped out of Marda’s suite in medical and collapsed in the nearest chair.  The past few cycles had drained him, and after Kamden Krain had revealed herself the cycle before, old memories, long buried, had resurfaced.  How long will that old witch haunt my family?

He looked back towards the room where Marda lay.  I never would have guessed how powerful she is.  After what had happened, he felt certain she would leave his grandson.  Instead, she’d allowed him to remain by her side, but she had yet to speak to him.  Can’t say as I blame her, I almost denied Jordan and Laresse’s union when I found out. Still, they’ve been through so much, and she does seem to really love him. If they can make it through this, they have a chance.

Seeing Tadeh Qudas lead the security team aroused even older memories.  How the Sheol is that bastard still so nimble after all these decades? It doesn’t seem fair.  The Telshin had done a good job of squelching any rumors, silencing everyone at the bar, except for some buzz that Electrolites had made a play for an unnamed cadet.

Admiral Sadrick climbed back to his feet. There was something he had to discuss with Tadeh Qudas, an old debt. After the cycle they’d just gone through, it was time to pay up.

UCSB Date: 966.352:Teshtid System, Teshtid Prime, Classified Telshin Encampment

Thirty-five annura earlier, young Admir Sadrick took in a deep breath as he exited a rover at the edge of the Telshin camp.  A few Death Helm-clad Tadeh Qudas soldiers looked his way as he grabbed his gear and strode through three rings of tents towards the heart of the encampment.  He kept his bearing tight and exuded authority as best he could.  If he faltered, showed weakness in any way, his appointment to liaison with the Tadeh Qudas would end before it had started.

He walked past more sparring matches then he could count. A few he wanted to sit and watch. They were more intense than the last few professional martial arts matches he’d been privy to. Soon, however, he came upon the three War Chief tents in the middle of the encampment.

He looked between them for the symbol of the War Chief he was to liaise with.  That War Chief’s Tadeh Qudas had proven instrumental in taking the planet even though they’d taken significant losses in the process.  His commander had briefed him on the announcement protocol. To enter a War Chief’s tent unbidden could spell certain doom.

Admir jumped when a warrior in a Fershing Death Helm seemed to appear out of thin air behind him. Before he could say anything, the warrior shoved Admir into one of the tents.

“War Chief,” the warrior called out. “I have our Confed Liason Officer. He was waiting outside your tent.”

From behind his simple folding metal desk, the War Chief in his fearsome Shinekian Death Helm looked up from his console. “I see that, Sergeant. You show bravery to cross a Tadeh Qudas camp without escort, Anulian.”

Admir bowed to reveal a set of oversized, fish shaped Kuhks across his back to the War Chief. “I am no mewling kit, War Chief. I can defend myself.”

The War Chief’s face was impossible to read through the mouth full of needlelike teeth dominating his otherwise featureless death-helm. “If you could down any warrior of mine, I would honor your death.”

Good, I’ve impressed him, Admir sighed, and relaxed.  “Officer Admir Sadrick, Confed Special Operations,” he announced. “I am here to ensure the successful hand off of Teshtid Prime following your clean up sweep.”

“I welcome you Officer Sadrick. Your name?”

“Admir, My parents had high hopes for me.”

“How so?” the sergeant asked.

“Admir as in Admiral.”

The War Chief waved down the Sergeant’s next question. “Their ranks are different than our own, Sergeant. An Admiral would be War Master of a fleet.”

The Sergeant scoffed. “Fleets! Warriors prove their mettle on the field of battle, not in a vacuum.”

Admir turned to the Sergeant, careful to keep the War Chief in view. “I have served in Special Operations Command my whole career. But even I acknowledge that without the fleet, there can be no way for warriors to reach or take the field.”

The Sergeant bristled.

“Enough,” the War Chief barked. “Sergeant, did you come just to deliver Officer Sadrick to me, or have you other news as well?”

“Our replacements are inbound, War Chief,” the Sergeant replied. “The combat controller has their dropships on sensors now. I thought you might want to inspect them.”

“Have you read their files?” the War Chief inquired as he climbed to his feet.

Admir had to look twice to be sure. Though the War Chief stood taller than Admir, he was a full head shorter than the Sergeant.

The Sergeant nodded in a sign of genuine respect. “For young bloods, they are quite adept. Two campaigns, short though they may have been, with an impressive kill count. I’m still curious, however, why we even have this cleanup assignment. It seems an insult to us and to them,” he said, glancing at Admir. “We should be leading them into glorious battle against our enemy, not treating them like raw recruits in need of weaning.”

“You call my judgment into question?” the War Chief replied, fixing the other with a menacing stare. The empty eye sockets of the Shinekian Death Helm, the lens covering his eyes masked by a dark exoskeletal skull, would send a lesser being running.

“You requested this assignment?” the Sergeant asked, saving face by diverting the accusation rather than backing down.

“Of course I did, Sergeant. Just as I have requested every campaign I ever fought in.”

“But why?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of confusion. “I would think, after our campaign to take this world, they would have moved you onto the War Masters Council.”

“They tried.”

The Sergeant stared at his War Chief in silence.

Admir could not stay as quiet. “You turned down an appointment to War Master?”

“Of course,” the War Chief replied, stepping around the desk. “Were I to join the council, I would no longer lead warriors to battle. The council is filled with old War Masters who will never see combat again. I have no wish to join them, not so long as I can fight.”

“I see,” Admir replied.  The Telshin were a tough lot, and Admir had worked hard to gain a liaison position with them.  It wasn’t a much sought-after position, in truth, but the War Master council was particular about embedding non-Telshin into their units.  The nature of this assignment may be the only reason they allowed me to come.

“We garnered too much glory in our last campaign,” the War Chief continued. “It would be best to lay low for a short while. Then we’ll come back stronger than ever. These cubs lost their War Chief in their last campaign and going into a new one without first learning my ways could prove disastrous.”

“I see your point, War Chief. Shall we inspect the troops?” the Sergeant asked.

“Yes,” he answered, moving past the two of them and out of the tent. “Have you a full helmet, Admir?”

Admir nodded.

“Good, put it on. The unit will have a hard enough time accepting you at best, without insulting them by approaching bare-faced.”

“Of course, War Chief,” Admir replied, pulling his helmet from his bag and slipping it on while they walked. The assembly of composite armor and silicasteel proved a marked contrast to their skull-faced Death Helms.

“Did you see their roster?” the War Chief asked his Sergeant, as the roar of braking thrusters echoed across the field and drowned out the question. The War Chief looked up at the trio of tactical dropships and escort gunships setting down in the first ring beyond the tents and flashed his personal link channel to the two of them before asking the question again.

“Of course,” the Sergeant replied. “I noticed that three of them are sired by council War Masters.” A moment later, the venting sound of the dropships’ Zero Kinetic Energy Pods, ZKEPs, echoed through the arena, expelling waste heat built up in atmospheric entry.

“Including War Master Schido? You know that I served with him?” the War Chief asked, seeming in that moment to outsize even his sergeant.

“Schido? But War Master Schido last fought in the Quetil Campaign.”

“It was my first campaign.”

“I was just a pup,” the Sergeant replied. 

Admir sucked in a breath. That could be a major insult.

“You are already an Elders age Chief. It surprises me that you have not been forced onto the council,” the Sergeant continued.

“Many think that,” he replied, ice in his voice.

If I said what the Sergeant had just said, they’d deliver what’s left of my bits to my folks.

“I was but a cub myself, granted special circumstances to skip battle training. I was birthed on a battlefield and have never left.”

“I see. Speaking of pups, were you aware that one of these young bloods bears your sire name?” the Sergeant asked.

“Yes.”

“Is he yours?”

“Yes.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Never. I only ever heard of him from his mother, before she died. It will be interesting to see how he turned out. His mother was a strong and capable warrior in her own right.”

“Speaking of names,” Admir commented. “I’ve been given none of yours. I was given only your unit symbol to find you.”

“And you will receive no more. We do not speak of names in the presence of strangers. Perhaps once you have proven yourself. It is the way of all Telshin and within the Tadeh Qudas’ even more so,” the War Chief replied.

Admir said nothing more, and they walked in silence to the landing area. Their new squad members waited at attention behind the three sizzling dropships. Standing in a single line, each one wore their own unique death mask, adorned with the colors and etched markings that spoke to their hereditary and personal glories.

The trio made their way down the long line, looking over each young warrior. “War Master Schido’s cub is easy enough to recognize,” the Sergeant commented.

“The black Lodran Helm is distinctive, of course. Did you notice War Master Gild’s cub?” the War Chief replied.

“The Red Drashig with daggers etched in the back?” Admir asked. Gild had signed Admir’s orders.

“Yes. Well done, Admir. I find War Master Asina’s Cub’s most impressive, you?”

Admir looked but wasn’t sure who that might be.

The Sergeant’s answer saved him. “Very much so War Chief. I understand that the Chret beak is fully articulated. Like her mother’s, it should reveal a set of Lodran’s teeth within. Have you spotted yours yet?”

“No, none of these are wearing Shinekian Death Helms. But I wager the one we just passed might be my cub.”

Admir couldn’t help but look. “The blue Pharad Mask?” he asked, seeing the midnight blue helmet. The flight gear integrated into the cub’s armor marked him as a pilot of one of the sizzling craft behind.

“Yes, I had one similar in my younger cycles,” the War Chief replied, his own uniform also showing where his flight gear attached.

“He has modified his helm somewhat,” the Sergeant continued.

Admir had noticed that, and the anatomy of the skull puzzled him. “It is clearly modeled after a male Pharad’s skull, but instead of the cartilage mane he made the rear more bulbous, like a female’s.”

“It does make him look larger,” the War Chief commented. “However, it is more likely that a larger ridge would interfere with moving his head in the cockpit. My own helm, in my youth, featured a removable mane ridge. Even my current Shinekian helm allows me to remove the rear skull spikes when I fly. It is common for pilots to fit such accommodations.”

Admir looked, and sure enough, he saw a seam there. “I feel like I’m back in my Xenobiology courses, with all these different skulls staring back at me.”

“You don’t find it intimidating?” the War Chief asked.

“I’ve done field surgeries on dozens of species and killed more Geffers than I can count. A Death Helm won’t faze me.”

The Sergeant scoffed. “We will see, Anulian. Take a look at this one, at the end.”

The War Chief didn’t bother to turn his head to look at the warrior at the end of the line of soldiers as one last Telshin ran from his gunship and snapped to attention. He was smaller than the rest, rivaling the War Chief for lack of height, and on his war helmet he wore a graying human death mask.

“A Human Death Mask. It’s a long time since I’ve seen a warrior wear one. It’s not very intimidating,” the sergeant commented, not mentioning the smaller stature of the young warrior.

“Not to most, but against Terrans it can be quite effective. I knew a warrior who wore one. She was quite brave,” he recalled.

Admir caught a hint of longing in that statement, or at least what might pass as longing in their species.  Could the War Chief have had a soft spot for this warrior?  A Telshin with a soft spot? That’s a laugh, I’ve never heard of such a thing.

“They appear to be a good looking lot,” the Sergeant commented. “Orders?”

“Have them stow their gear and turn in for the cycle. We’ll get them acquainted with our veterans on the dawn. We leave in two cycles for our next assignment. Admir, come with me.”

As the War Chief and Admir reached the end of the line, the Sergeant fell back to issue those orders.

Hects later, Admir and the War Chief sat in the War Chief’s tent going over handover paperwork and plans for the cleanup operation. “It is at times like this that I find myself eager to be a foot soldier again,” the War Chief commented. “I hate this bureaucracy.”

“Unfortunately, it’s bureaucrats who run things,” Admir replied.

“The Confederation taught us that word, bureaucrat. We had no such before.”

“Must have been nice. But, as an old commander once told me, ‘glory brings responsibility, and responsibility brings paperwork.’”

“My first War Chief had a similar saying. ‘Never accept more glory then you can be responsible for.’”

A rustling of the tent flap pulled their attention away, and Admir pulled his helmet back on.

The War Chief waited until Admir sealed the helmet, then turned to the door flap. “Enter!”

Two of his newest warriors entered the tent. Still clad in their combat flight gear, the young bloods with grey Human and midnight blue Pharad death helms came to rigid attention. They waited for the War Chief’s acknowledgement as he looked them over. He finished the form in front of Admir, then returned his attention to the pair. “Stand at rest,” he ordered.

The pair complied, turning their heads to look at their War Chief.

“What brings you to my tent this dusk?” he asked.

“A matter of heredity has come to our attention,” the young warrior with the Pharad death helm replied. “We wished to clarify it, if at all possible.”

“There is also a matter of provisions for our gunships,” the one in the Human death helm continued.  “We came in on minimal supplies and were told that we would be resupplied here. However, the quartermaster has informed us that will not be the case.”

“Sergeant, what is this supply issue they refer to?” the War Chief asked.

Admir felt his hearts jump when the Sergeant emerged, unfolding from the darkness like a shadow come to life. He hadn’t left the tent since the inspection and didn’t realize that the sneaky bastard was hiding there.

“The quartermaster just gave me a report,” the Sergeant announced, handing a document to the War Chief. “It seems we are low on missiles and Zee Keps, and our hydrogen plant is working at less than optimal efficiency. We will be able to equip only the dropships before we set out, but not the gunships, if we are to remain on schedule.”

“How did this happen?” the War Chief replied, snatching the report from his hand.

Admir called up the same report on his HUD. Avionics spares were also missing, avionics needed to complete repairs on at least two of the gunships.

“War Chief Comain demanded that his unit receive a full resupply before they set out earlier,” the Sergeant replied. “He showed the quartermaster that his unit was heading to the frontline and more urgently needed the supplies,” the Sergeant continued, with a note of disgust in his voice. “Our quartermaster is doing his best to get replacement supplies from other units. He has submitted to the whip because of his failure in the matter.”

“He need not submit to the whip,” the War Chief replied, a note of anger in his voice. “We’ll have to set out without our gunships in that case. Have all capable weapons systems mounted to the dropships instead. I won’t go into battle without my Telshin air cover. In the meantime,” he said to the two warriors, “until your gunships are repaired, you will be on foot with the rest of us. You will gain glory where it is most earned, in close combat, where the enemy sees death coming.”

“I will see it done right away, War Chief,” the Sergeant replied, making his way from the tent.

Admir moved to go with him, but the War Chief held up a hand, staying him.

“Now as to the matter of heredity,” the War Chief said, fixing his gaze on the warrior in the blue Pharad death helm.

The young warrior straightened his back.

“I did not take this assignment to bring my cub under me,” the War Chief said. “It was a matter of chance, but one I accept. I will treat my cub the same as any other young blood until his glory is proven to me on the battlefield, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the pair replied in unison. Then the warrior in the grey Human mask raised his hand.

The War Chief motioned him to speak.

Admir felt sure that words of fealty and explanations of unintentional disrespect said before they arrived were to follow.  Why else would he stay?

“You speak of a single cub, War Chief, but such is not the case,” he revealed, stealing a look at the Telshin beside him. “Our helms reveal our heredity as sure as that of any other in our Tadeh Qudas. My sire kin beside me wears a helm in the colors of his mother and the guise of his sire at the time of breeding. But I wear my sire’s colors on the helm of my mother.”

Admir looked closely at the three. They were all of a similar height and size, but without seeing their faces or better yet, their blood, he had no way to guess at, let alone prove, their heredity.

“How is this possible?” the War Chief asked, looking at the pair. “Your mother would have died before she could bear you,” he continued. “But your helmet, I see now, bears my markings, and your mask, is that your mother’s?”

The young blood nodded. “My mother fell on the field before I was to be born. But her squad leader, upon finding her body, discovered that I still lived and cut me from her womb. I was small, but strong, and to his amazement, I lived.”

“I cannot believe that I bear kinship to this one. He is so small and frail,” the warrior in the Pharad mask commented, disdain in his voice.

Admir almost did a double take.  There’s what, maybe a decimetra difference in height between them?

“Small I may be, but frail I am not,” the other retorted.

“Silence, both of you,” the War Chief called out. “Do not judge a Telshin by size alone,” he commanded. “We all stand a scant margin above this Anulian, and you are shorter than the rest of your squad yourself,” he said, fixing the Pharad death mask in a hard stare. “Still, I stand taller than any warrior on the field for the glory I have garnered. Our lack of height is the fate of nearly all of us born on the field of battle.”

The silence became oppressive, and Admir wished he could disappear like the Sergeant had.  What I wouldn’t give to know what’s going on in their heads. Why are they so quiet? Is the War Chief looking up their records, trying to figure why he’d never heard of his other son’s birth? I could, if I knew their names. Why do these Telshin have to be so blasted secretive?

“What squad will we be assigned to?” the Pharad helmed warrior asked finally.

“First squad,” the War Chief replied. “All gunship crews will join me in first squad. Veterans not leading other squads will finish first squad out. The Sergeant will announce final assignments next cycle at dawn, and we will begin assimilation training before moving out.

“I keep you together only to maintain cohesion in the gunship crews. You know how your crewmates fight, so breaking up your crews will not be to our advantage,” the War Chief explained, more for Admir’s benefit, he realized, than that of the warriors.

His sons exchanged glances.

“You are dismissed,” he ordered, fixing the one in the Pharad helmet with a gaze. “You stay a moment,” he said to the other.

With a quick salute, the Pharad helmed warrior departed the tent. For several tense moments, father and son stood in silence. Admir felt invisible, as the pair regarded one another, and dared not move lest they take offense at his presence.

“War Chief Gorick raised you. You bear his sire name,” It was not a question.

The young blood nodded.

“Why, when you knew of your parentage?” the War Chief asked.

“I did not know until a handful of annura ago,” his cub answered. “War Chief Gorick had always felt slighted that you sired me. It was no secret in our Tadeh Qudas that he felt you rose to War Chief too young.”

The War Chief nodded and turned to Admir. “Something you might not know, Anulian, we Telshin tend not to breed with those outside of our rank.” He looked at the cub again. “When I met your mother, I was not yet a War Chief, but was well on my way. Your mother was three ranks below me, but we were of a similar age. When Gorick heard of our pairing, he transferred me.”

“Should we discuss this before the Anulian?” the cub asked.

“If you’d seen his record, you would have no compunction. We speak only of the dead now. Their names are his to hear.”

The cub nodded. “It drove a wedge between Gorick and me when I discovered the truth and presented it to him. He put me to the lash when I repainted my helm to match your old colors.”

“I see from your records that you are a noble warrior and an adept pilot. You were there when Gorick fell?”

“Yes, my liege. He commanded us too far forward in pursuit of the fleeing enemy armor,” the young blood replied. “It was a trap. By the time War Chief Gorick fell into it, the rest of us were too far away to save him. We took heavy damage in the attempt, but managed to save the rest of our Tadeh Qudas. War Chief Gorick died amongst his men.”

“A noble death, then. Your mother would be proud of you. Return to the others. We have much to do upon the dawn.”

The War Chief’s cub made a precise about-face and marched out of the tent. The War Chief settled back into his chair and stared out the door flap in silence. “To discover I have another son, a son with, with one I cared for, it is almost too much.”

“If you would rather I leave?” Admir asked.

“No, stay, we have much to do.”

UCSB Date: 966.355,Teshtid Prime, The Natig Plains

Admir dove for cover when the explosions sounded.  He rolled about, checking his sensors, as a ring of red contacts emerged all around them.  Frag me sideways.  Looking up, he spotted one of the dropships falling towards him and scrambled out of the way before it slammed into the ground only a few metra away and exploded.  He looked skyward again.  The other dropships were gone as well, two smoking craters marking their graves.  Half of the soldiers in their Tadeh Qudas were still aboard.

Plaser fire erupted all around him, and the rumbling of tanks told him all he needed to know.  We walked straight into a trap.

The ground stirred beneath him. Admir rolled away before a Galactic Federation shock trooper leapt up, discarding his therm-optic and scent camouflaged cloak. Admir pumped four rounds into the man’s chest and ran towards the rest of the Tadeh Qudas as it reformed ranks.

He spied the War Chief as the warrior downed three more Shock Troopers, and ran for him. “They caught us with our trousers down,” Admir hollered and leapt amongst the Telshin warriors.

“But how?” the War Chief cried.

“Scent masks and Therm-Optic shrouds.” Admir snapped off a shot at one of the GF troops. “They knew we were coming, probably spotted us entering the valley last cycle.”

“Plague their lines, a War Master couldn’t have laid a better trap,” the War Chief called out.

“I’m broadcasting a beacon, but reinforcements are half a fragging planet away,” Admir yelled. “And better than half of these guys are Shock Troopers. This is a vengeance attack.”

“We move to cover. There’s a break in their line,” the War Chief called out, pointing with his rifle and shooting a Galactic Federation soldier attempting to brace that hole. “If we widen it enough, we may get through to a more defensible position. Everyone, follow me!” He charged the gap.

Admir followed, thankful that his ACHES gave him the ability to keep up with the Tadeh Qudas. GF troops tried to block their escape but Telshin warriors dispatched them.

A blast knocked Admir from his feet, and when he looked up, a GF trooper was bearing down on him. He went for his rifle, but it was out of reach, knocked from his hands. He reached down for his side arm as the trooper brought his own rifle to bear, then felt a tug at his back. The young blood with the Human death mask jumped past and let fly one of Admir’s kuhks. It found a temporary home in the soldier’s face until the Telshin tore it free and ran past.

Admir scrambled for his rifle and followed, running along behind the young one. “Nice move.”

“Good knife,” he answered. “If we survive, I’ll get one of my own.”

“Admir, shut down your beacon, they can track it,” the War Chief ordered over the link. “All survivors follow me. Deploy scent masks, active camouflage, and decoys!”

It took more than a hect, but the Tadeh Qudas evaded the pursuers and went to ground in the foothills. The place where trees and high grasses met provided excellent cover. They had no way of knowing if the Galactic Federation forces followed their thermal decoys or not. But they had wounded to attend to and needed to recharge their suits more than solar crystals and their own body heat could.

“How fare you, old warrior?” the War Chief asked the Sergeant as Admir tended to a plasma burn across the Sergeant’s chest.

“I’ve had worse. I’m not sure how well these young bloods are holding up, though.” He nodded toward the young warriors nearby.

“We’ve taken nasty losses among the veterans as well,” Admir commented. “And I’m not sure if anyone received my signal.”

The War Chief nodded. “We’re down to one squad and that’s just the three of us, four other veterans, and eight young bloods. If we’re attacked now…”

“We’ve faced worse,” the Sergeant replied.

“With experienced warriors on battle grounds with better cover, yes,” the War Chief replied.

Admir applied a skin patch to the wound and bandaged it. “Some of these young bloods seem shaken up,” he commented. “That one in the green Krad helmet is shaking something fierce.”

“I noticed that as well,” the Sergeant replied and began to pull on what remained of his chest armor. “We’ll make it though, I promise you that.”

Admir hated statements like that. They always ended with cannon fire, and this was no exception. The ground around their squad exploded as Plaser and mass driver rounds pummeled the area.

Admir reactivated his beacon, not caring if the War Chief approved or not. The enemy had them pinned, and he needed to get help to these Telshin. Retrieving his weapon, he joined the battle as wave after wave of Shock Troopers bore down upon them. He lost track of time as he fought. Running out of ammunition, he pulled his Kuhks and stole his enemy’s guns, the same as the Tadeh Qudas did.

The ammunition from his latest acquisition spent, he looked for another and spotted the War Chief wrestling with a GF soldier for his heavy repeating Plaser. Behind him a Shock Trooper, legs crushed but with life still in him, crawled up behind the War Chief and prepared to gun him down.

Admir raced towards him, but not before the young blood in the Pharad Death Helm leapt towards the Shock Trooper and called out, “Sire, behind you!”

His call of warning worked against him however, and the Shock Trooper turned his rifle instead on the young warrior and opened fire. Two rounds ripped through the Pharad Helmed warrior’s chest before the third tore into his helmet, shattering the facemask and burning a gash down the side of his head.

A plasma round slammed into the side of Admir’s head and dropped him to the ground.  His vision blurred, he felt his Kuhks torn off his back and saw the Human Helmed Telshin leap upon the Shock Trooper.  The young warrior sank one knife into the Shock Trooper’s thick armor and twisted the blade, cleaving the man’s heart in two. Blood sprayed when he tore the wicked blade free.

Shots rang out a moment later, and the War Chief fell back, scorch marks on his chest from a pair of plaser blasts and another piercing his helmet, leaving a burn across his face and head.

“Chieftain!” the warrior in the Grey Human Death Mask yelled. He pounced on the soldier who had felled his sire and buried a Kuhk in his face, before turning back towards his last two kin.

Admir crawled towards the downed Telshin.  Their chests heaved, hemorrhaging blood with each hacking blood-soaked cough from their charred lungs.  I have to try and save them.

Before Admir could cross the distance, two more Shock Troopers exploded from the grass into the clearing, rifles aimed at the last still-standing, blood-soaked Telshin. Admir froze as the pair stalked the young Telshin, breathing heavily as he watched the scene unfold on his sensors.

The Shock Trooper on the left shifted his rifle to check the ammo counter. Kuhk in hand, the last Telshin standing leapt over Admir and his wounded sire to lunge at the Shock Trooper. He was too far away, though, and the Shock Troopers too fast. Rounds exploded from their rifles. The trooper on the right punched a plasma round into the side of the young warrior’s helmeted head.

The helmet contained the blast, but shattered. Plasma splattered against the side of his head, searing his flesh. He recoiled but kept charging on the Trooper until several rounds breached his chest armor.

Admir leapt towards the Shock Troopers, but the butt of a rifle knocked him on the back of his head. He slammed to the ground, his head awash with pain, and watched the Human death helmed Telshin toss a Kuhk into a Trooper’s chest before everything went dark.

Admir couldn’t even guess how much time had passed, when the link in his helmet began to squawk at him, but it had started to get dark.  “I repeat, we are homing in on your beacon. We read multiple thermal signatures at your location but no other friendly IFF. Are we cleared hot?”

Admir strained to look around.  Shock Troopers were almost everywhere and he lay along a line of dead Telshin.  He did his best to keep his movements unseen and checked the Telshin beside him.  He almost gasped at the sight.  They weren’t helmeted. The Shock Troopers must have been collecting the Death Helms as a prize.  His sensors did show, however, that the Telshin beside him was still warm and had a heartbeat. He’s alive!

“Incoming craft,” Admir whispered, “I have an injured friendly beside me. You are cleared hot.”

“Copy that, standby.”

Admir shook as the ground around them exploded in a rain of plaser fire pouring down upon the Shock Troopers.  Dirt flew over the Telshin beside him as indiscriminate plaser fire tore at Troopers and Telshin corpses alike.  Not on my watch!  Admir rolled on top of the Telshin beside him, hoping the gunship wouldn’t hit them both. 

The sound of Plaser fire ceased a moment later, replaced by the thrumming whine of de-grav generators. Admir sighed at the sight of multiple gunships and dropships swooping in, and turned back to the Telshin beneath him. He gritted his teeth at the sight. Severe burns marred the face and two holes in his chest exposed his injured heart within. Rolling off, he opened up the medical kit at his waist and set to work.

Teshtid Prime, Dropship OT-718

Admir felt ready to pass out as he waited in a fold-down seat in the back of one of the dropship’s outrigger pods while it raced away. He’d spent several hects in the popup surgery suite saving the life of the Telshin within, never knowing exactly who he was. He only wished he could have saved the others, but only the Sergeant lived long enough to reach the dropship, before even he expired.

A stirring within the suite drew his attention and, with his back threatening to give out, he headed in. “Good. You’re awake, Tadeh Qudas. How are you feeling?” Admir asked.

“I shall live. How fares my unit?”

“Good to hear,” Admir replied. He was slow to approach, not knowing who he faced. While all the Tadeh Qudas had seen his face, he didn’t know any of theirs. “I’m afraid you were the only survivor. Help arrived too late to save the others, I’m sorry,” Admir explained as he stepped up to examine the dressing. “Good, you didn’t tear my stitches,” he commented peeling it back just enough to see the stitched wound before closing the bandage once again.

“Where is my helm?” the Telshin demanded. “I cannot let others see my face.”

“I’ll get it for you. Don’t worry, no one else has seen your face. No one alive, anyway.”

“What?”

“Some overzealous GF Shock Trooper started pulling helmets while the two of us were out,” he expounded, pulling a crate into the curtained off area. “By your wounds and your size, I figured one of these three was yours,” he shrugged, pulling out the damaged helmet of the War Chief and his two sons.

“Leave me, Anulian,” the survivor ordered, staring at the helmets.

Admir complied and waited outside the surgical suite.  I can’t even recognize the voice. Damned helmets filter them even over a link.

Tadeh Qudas emerged several pulses later.  Admir looked up at him, the helmet was different than he remembered.  The midnight blue helmet belonged to the Pharad helmed son of the War Chief, the human skull facemask, stripped of its paint down to the bare metal, the older son.  The eye lenses belonged to neither. The shape and color didn’t quite fit the Human helm, but they did fit the War Chief’s Shinekian helm.  Is this a Telshin thing? Did he just scavenge what he could, or is there a deeper meaning here?

“I see you found your helmet, Tadeh Qudas,” was all he could think to say.

“That I did, I thank you, Admir.”

“My calling you Tadeh Qudas is going to get a bit old after a while…”

“My past is gone, and with it my name. Call me Tadeh Qudas if it pleases you.”

“If you say so,” Admir replied, thinking that it didn’t please him.

“I do. What is our final destination?”

“The crew was planning to take us back to your old base and leave us there.”

“Stop only to deliver the dead. You and I no longer have a place amongst my people. Sole survivors never do.”

UCSB Date: 1001.133:Star System: Classifeid, UCSBA-13, Officers Apartment 143

Admiral Sadrick found himself at the door to Tadeh Qudas’ apartment, at the end of his wanderings, and tapped the chime. He wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t seen Tadeh Qudas in decades, since Laresse’s father had died and he’d gone off to command school.

The door opened, and he stepped through. Tadeh Qudas sat in a chair across a room adorned with war trophies. “It’s been a long time, Tadeh Qudas,” Admir said.

“It certainly has,” Tadeh Qudas replied as he stood.

“The annura have obviously been more kind to you than I,” Admir replied, crossing the room to take a seat opposite his old comrade.

“Mine is a long-lived people if we survive enough battles. It is good to see you again. How is Cadet Sciminder faring?” Tadeh Qudas asked as he retook his seat.

“As it is to see you. She’s doing much better now. She’s exhausted, but she’ll be up and around in another cycle or two. Blazer and her squad are seeing to her. I see you’re still holding onto those,” he commented, pointing to the remaining parts of three damaged Death Helms on the desk as Tadeh Qudas stood there in the one he’d reassembled back then.

“That I am,” Tadeh Qudas remarked, still leaving the identity of the wearers unspoken. “They are special to me.  Perhaps one cycle I will find one of them placed upon my head. Perhaps one cycle I will earn that right.”

“I came here for a reason,” Admiral Sadrick announced, and let the statement hang in the air a long moment. “You still owe me a drink for saving your life all those annura ago,” he laughed.

“I do at that,” Tadeh Qudas replied. “I have a fine bottle of Telshin Whiskey, if you think your old hearts can take it.”

“They can, but don’t tell my wife.”

They both laughed as Tadeh Qudas stood, opened the bottle, and poured the potent liquor into a pair of glasses. He handed the Admiral his cup and retook his seat opposite him. Taking a sip of the whiskey, the Admiral looked up at Tadeh Qudas as he removed his helmet and set it aside.

“I thank you for the honor of your visage,” the Admiral said, as Tadeh Qudas laid the helmet on the table between them. “Even if you are so damn ugly,” he smirked.

Tadeh Qudas replied with a toothy feral grin, scars he never let the Admiral fix still marring his face.

“So, what have you been up to the last thirty annura?” the Admiral asked as his host took his first drink.

Setting the drink aside, Tadeh Qudas began to tell the Admiral the convoluted path that had led him here.  They spoke for several hects, but not once did Tadeh Qudas even allude to the question that still plagued the Admiral.  Who are you, really?

UCSB DATE: 1001.141

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Library Meeting Room 3

The sound of the lift chime made Blazer cringe when the doors opened onto the library. He peeked out and scanned the area; the chief librarian was nowhere to be seen. He breathed a sigh of relief, crept out of the lift and made his way towards the meeting rooms. The whole floor was as quiet as a tomb, and for good reason. The Chief Librarian was a stickler for silence in the library. If a conversation could be heard more than five metra away, it was too loud for the Breshig Chief, whose screeching voice could etch glass.

Blazer hurried across the library to the meeting rooms where the rest of the Blade Force awaited him. The announcement was too important to wait, and he had run all the way from the Admiral’s office, where all the Special Operations team leaders had just met. There, the Admiral had announced their specialty assignments, indirectly, by telling them whether they’d gotten their first, second, third, or even fifteenth choice from each team’s prioritized list.

Ever since establishing their current formation the semester before, the Blade Force had anticipated this cycle. They’d readied themselves to become a rescue team, focusing most of their free-form combat drills around rescue scenarios. Now the team waited with bated breath for Blazer to return and announce whether or not they’d received their desired specialty.

Blazer rushed into the room and everyone turned to face him, their expressions those of hopeful children waiting to receive a gift. “All right, well, the Explosions got their number one,” Blazer announced, almost out of breath. “They will be a Ship Capture team.”

“As if there was any doubt after we helped them capture the Nosferat,” Arion quipped.

Blazer smiled and continued. “The Vorckines got their…”

“Who cares?” Gavit called out. “I can’t stand the fragging suspense, what did we get?”

Blazer hung his head for a moment and took a somber breath, hoping to defer the announcement. “We received our third choice,” he sighed.

Blazer reveled as the team erupted in applause, congratulating each other.  Blazer moved in to hug Marda, but she held up a hand, staying him.  She still hasn’t forgiven me for concealing his relation to Kamden from her.

“You are such a Pedlick,” Marda commented. “Trying to fool us with that somber act of yours.”

“Looks like Admiral Sadrick’s advice paid off,” Arion added with a great smile.

At least she’s talking to me, that’s something, Blazer considered. “Oh, it was beautiful, too,” Blazer commented. “Chertsin thinks we got something else. He thinks we put Rescue down as our first choice.”

“I still say it was an unnecessary gamble,” Zithe called from the other end of the table after pulling out of a hug with Chris. He had voiced disapproval with the plan early on.

“Sometimes you have to be a sneaky, big buddy,” Rudjick replied in turn. “Like me,” he continued with a cheesy grin.

“So what did Chertsin’s Commandoes get?” Gokhead asked his macomm in hand, accessing the list he pulled from their files right before the semester restarted.

“Number 15,” Blazer replied as he and everyone else began shuffling around the table to get a look. “He actually had to think about what it was.”

Gokhead chuckled in reply. “Facilities demolition and sabotage,” Gokhead announced highlighting the selection.

“Now that is an unenviable position,” Zithe commented.

“You’re talking behind enemy lines missions or missions on embattled planets exclusively,” Mikle remarked, staring at the screen.

“You’d have to be able to sneak in and out of a place like a shadow, to do a job like that,” Chris added. “It almost makes me respect, or maybe pity, Chertsin and his boys.”

“Almost?” Gavit asked with a raised eyebrow.

Chris raised her hand her thumb and forefinger spaced apart about half a centimetra apart before she replied. “Well, maybe this much closer to respecting him,” she replied with a smirk.

“They must be fuming. What was their top choice again?” Blazer asked.

“Rescue, probably just to show us up if they got it and not us,” Gokhead answered.

“So what are we doing here? Why aren’t we at Mendrick’s with the rest of the teams celebrating?” Rudjick asked and started for the door, the rest of the team not far behind him.

As Blazer started to follow after them, Marda came up beside him and took his hand.  He tried not to react but intertwined his fingers with hers, feeling the Vaughnt ring still on her finger.  He breathed a sigh of relief at that.  Take it slow, she still needs time.  He turned to her and smiled. She returned barely a hint of a smile in return. Good enough for now.

UCSB DATE: 1001.180

Vespus System, Planet Vespar, Elrian City

Red.  Everything was red and Blazer had no idea why.  His mind raced to find the answer, taking stock. He was in his ACHES, rifle in hand, and things were moving around him almost too fast to see.  Did I set my visor to red?  He reached up to change the settings and found a breach in his helmet.  Reaching in, he found a massive head wound along the side of his face spurting blood into his helmet.  Everything came back to him in a flash.

The mission.  The mission was still on, and they had casualties.  The insertion had gone bad, but the objective was in sight, so they’d gone for it.  The prisoner transport raced away from him as he stood there, trying to figure out how to proceed.   He brought his rifle up when he saw a guard hanging off the side of transport but before he could fire, another shot rang out.  He recognized the sound.  It was a sniper rifle.  Matt’s still alive, maybe even Bichard. But the shot went wide and bounced off the armored skin of the transport before the guard disappeared back inside.

An explosion rocked the building next to Blazer, raining debris down upon him. “All units report status,” Blazer ordered. He threw himself behind a crashed hover car, head spinning.

“We’ve got casualties all over the place,” Zithe roared over the link. “Chris is down. I’ve lost track of Arion, and I’m bleeding something fierce. I need a medic.”

“Marda,” Blazer yelled and remembered what had happened.

His stomach twisted itself into a pit. Marda was gone.  The barrage that had injured him had killed her.  Looking back, he saw her.  Her crumpled form lay on the ground, not moving.  The simple cloak she wore over her ACHES, shredded by the blast which had killed her, allowed Blazer a view of her multiple suit breaches.

He turned away, shame gripping his heart.  She’s gone, and I, I never had a chance to…  He shook his head.  No, no time for that now, focus on the mission.  But with each passing moment, his judgment clouded. “Big Eyes? Tell me you have something,” Blazer ordered, calling out to Matt and Bichard.

“More troops inbound, lead, and our post is compromised. We must fall back,” Bichard’s hum-click voice replied, urgency dripping off every syllable.

“Recon, report,” Blazer called out as he looked back over the fallen grav car. The prison transport full of Confed POWs raced away in the distance, heading for the enemy reinforcements in the distance.

“We’re falling back. I have a man injured and I’m dragging him,” Rudjick called back over the sound of heavy fire in the background. “Spotted team two’s lost lamb, he’s gone,” he continued.

Blazer recognized the weapons fire echoing through the buildings.  It was not Rudjick’s MD-42, gauss rifle, but Arion’s HRP-63, heavy repeating plaser.  He leaned back against the car. The woman he loved and his best friend were gone, and it was his fault. No more, I have to get the rest out alive.

“Drop, this is Lead, we need an extraction, ASAP. All units, fall back to rally point, rally point, um, rally point five,” Blazer decided, taking his first uneasy steps, the entire left side of his visor coated with blood.

“En-route, Lead,” Acknit replied over the roar of the dropship’s engines. “We see heavy ground assets inbound. Extraction will be hot.”

“Copy. All units fall back,” Blazer ordered and bounded back towards the rally point, a hitch in his step as he ran past Marda’s body. “Big Eye, maintain position and cover as long as you can, then we’ll cover your retreat,” Blazer ordered, those two his only fire team on the ground who hadn’t been compromised.

“Will hold as long as we can, Lead,” Bichard replied, the sound of Matt’s shots echoing around the city walls.

Blazer couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. The insertion into the city, while not perfect, was covert enough. He had reorganized his fire teams to make better use of them in the city environment. Boxing in the prisoner transport and capturing it should have been easy. But something had gone wrong and, mind clouded by pain, he couldn’t figure out why. All he knew was that he had to get his people out of there. He had to escape with as many of them as he could, but when the sound of the dropship’s engines met him, he skidded to a halt.

Marda, with his HUD down, he needed a close inspection to see if she was alive. She might just be wounded, like me.  His mind raced and reeled.  Is she alive?  She looked like she wasn’t moving, but the ACHES tended to hide subtle movements.  He had to be sure.  He wheeled about and regretted it an instant later.  Nausea welled up and dizziness overcame him, blood loss from his head wound dropping him to the ground.

“Lead is down,” a voice called out.

Was it Zithe?  Blazer couldn’t tell.  Everything was getting hazy. Am I at the LZ?  His vision dimmed.

“I copy, am moving to retrieve,” that was Gavit.

Blazer turned to look at the dropship. He couldn’t see anything but a red haze. Gavit was on him a moment later, sliding in next to him as his PMD-52 battle rifle chattered away, laying slugs and plaser rounds down the street.

“Blazer’s injured bad,” Gavit called out. “His helmet is breached and he has a major head wound from what I can see. He needs a medic something fierce.”

“He’s not the only one,” Zithe growled as he hefted Chris into the dropship. “I am taking command. Drag him back here, and where is Marda?” Zithe continued, communications discipline out the door.

“Belay that order,” Blazer replied as he fought back against Gavit to remove his helmet. “She’s down, need to get her.”

Gavit looked back towards Marda’s limp form. “Drop can you get a read on her vitals? Blazer, knock it off. Don’t pull your helmet off; we need to get out of here.”

“No, she’s alive!” Blazer roared and pushed Gavit away before tearing his helmet off. His vision cleared for only a moment, flooding his eyes with light as he tore open the scabs that had all but sealed his wound. The action was more than he could take, and he collapsed back to the dirty street again.

“This is Drop, jamming is too heavy, can’t get a read on her bio signs,” Acknit replied.

“This is Big Eye,” Bichard linked in. “Have eyes on, she’s down. No movement and she’s going cold. I’m sorry, she’s gone.”

“Big Eye, fall back, I repeat, fall back,” Zithe ordered. “Drop, as soon as we’re aboard, make for orbit.”

Blazer felt his world crumble as he clutched at his head, Gavit hefting him back to his feet. “Negative, we have people down. We leave no one behind. Big Eye, maintain covering position. Recon, where are you?”

Rudjick helped a limping Gokhead around a corner towards the dropship a moment later. The heavy repeating plaser he’d taken off Arion’s corpse chattering away the whole time. “Right behind, we are cut off from Marda anyway,” he continued, the radiator vanes on the HRP glowing white hot down the length of the barrel, the air sizzling all around the weapon.

“Gavit, subdue Blazer. I am now Lead. Big Eye, drop back now,” Zithe roared, trying to save the situation.

“Copy, Lead,” Bichard replied. “All units, heavy weapons troops are closing on the dropship. We will attempt to hold them off.”

“Eyes on,” Gokhead replied, his words slurred. He brought his rifle back up to bear and squeezed the trigger. Every shot went wide of the approaching enemy troops.

“Am attempting to get the drop off this thoroughfare,” Mikle’s voice rang over the link.

“Negative, hold position,” Zithe ordered. “Our people are almost here. Big Eye, hold position. We will come to you.” Zithe brought his rifle up and fired on the rocket launcher carrying troops running down the street. He managed to down two of the approaching troops before the others dove for cover.

“We are already on the move,” Matt called back. “Position was compromised when we started to move. Your mind is made up for you, act accordingly!”

Zithe sneered at that response and edged towards the ramp as the others came within a quick sprint of it. “Do not think to give me orders, old man. I am in command now. Drop, proceed to pick up our lost lambs as soon as we have everyone else onboard. Now lower the shields.”

Blazer felt the field drop around them. The ElectroMagnetic Toroid (EMT) field was capable of frying a living being if they attempted to penetrate it, assuming the Gravitational Deflectors didn’t knock them away first.

“Copy, Lead,” Acknit replied, and plaser rounds rang off the hull of the dropship, singeing the armor.

Zithe leapt out the ramp in an instant to help the four survivors back into the dropship.

A GF Battle Tank rolled onto the street and turned its turret on them. “Tank! Shield’s coming back,” Acknit called out, warning the others to stay back or try to get inside the shield bubble before it activated.

The team scrambled the last few metra inside the bubble before it activated. Negative and positive charged ions fired from their ports before the magnetic field captured them and spun them around the dropship at relativistic speeds, just missing the team members as they rushed across the ground. Dirt all around them began to fly from the static charge, kicking up a dust cloud that obscured vision. It was not enough to stop the tank.

Blazer’s head wobbled as he looked back at the team and saw the flash of the tank’s heavy plaser cannon fire. The plasma round pierced the undercharged shields. The familiar stink of vaporized metal met Blazer’s nose, the ceiling above him radiating heat after a great gash of dorsal plating disappeared in an instant. Worse, the hit knocked the dropship forward, forcing the aft shield towards team members still on the ground.

The charged particles washed over them, frying their nervous systems in an instant.  The ions pummeled them as they lay on the dusty ground, cooking them from the inside out.

Zithe stood mouth agape beside the ramp. Acknit and Mikle screamed at him to get back aboard as the tank prepare to fire again. He looked back at Blazer as he motioned him back aboard. Zithe nodded and scrambled back into the hold of the small tactical dropship. “Get us off the street and make to pick up Matt and Bichard! We need to get out of here!” Zithe roared as he wrapped his arm in the netting beside the door.

“What about the others?” Mikle called out.

“They’re dead, torch the bodies,” Zithe ordered.

Sullen, Mikle pushed the throttle forward to get them off the street before the tank could fire again. “Copy that.” They didn’t clear the street in time and the tank fired again, stripping the rear shields. Mikle hauled back on the stick and climbed high enough to turn around before he went on the attack. Engines pouring star-hot fires onto the dusty pavement, he roared back onto the thoroughfare.

Blazer felt the cargo webbing enshroud him as the dropship swooped in low.  He winced as the fiery exhaust engulfed the bodies of his fallen comrades moments before the dropship streaked over the heads of their enemies.  Dozens burned as the plasma fires washed over them and the tank’s dorsal shields collapsed before the dropship shot down the road towards the homing beacons of the last two survivors.

The dropship bucked. The first plasma round from the tank’s double-barreled cannon collapsed what remained of the dropship’s shields, dispersing the charged particles. A great wrenching of metal spelled the doom of the shield as the mounts for the spinning magnetic controller at the heart of the dropship shattered. The second blast slipped through the opened rear hatch and immolated everything inside.

Blazer forced his eyes closed as the plasma fire engulfed him.  He heard Matt and Bichard scream out over the link as the dropship collided with something, a building perhaps. Then the world disappeared, replaced by the cool darkness of the input helmet.

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Debriefing Room 2

Rage radiated off Tadeh Qudas as he stormed into the debriefing room a few pulses after the catastrophic failure in their latest simulated rescue mission. “Would anyone like to explain just what happened in there?”

Still dressed in their monitoring suits, the cadets could only hang their heads in response. Numerous foul ups and miscommunications had resulted in their highest casualty rate to date and a less than organized retreat that killed the rest of them. They didn’t even come close to the mission objective before their cover was blown.

In charge of the whole mess, Blazer looked up at the fearsome Telshin. His eyes still refused to focus, rapid pulls from the simulation always did this to him, left him dazed. He could never tell when they were in the simulation. “We weren’t prepared for what we faced. No, I wasn’t prepared, when enemy assets shifted the way they did. It threw our whole plan into complete disarray.”

Blazer felt his resolve wither as Tadeh Qudas just stood before him in silence, his head tilted up to look just over his head before he shifted down to engage him again.  Was he reading , the mission summary report in his HUD?

“You also changed up your fire teams immediately prior to insertion,” Tadeh Qudas admonished. “You all need to concentrate on learning each other’s moves and learning how to back one another up. As squad leader, Cadet Vaughnt, you must ensure that your fire teams are capable of working with each other.”

Gokhead cleared his throat. “We’re still trying to determine our optimum fire team composition.”

Tadeh Qudas fixed Gokhead with a hard stare that backed down the smaller Drashig. “This is not the slamball field anymore. You can’t just go around changing your lineup on a whim, putting personnel in positions they are not qualified for. And Cadet Talkerna, what was with your aim out there?”

Matt rubbed his hands together and looked up. “I’m a little off my game. I’ll do better next time.”

“There is no next time, cadet. Don’t you realize that? You’re dead. You were killed and so was your whole squad, because you couldn’t cover the retreat or give them adequate warning.”

Bichard held up a hand. “The warning is my fault. As the lookout, I should have been the one to issue it. It is my failure.”

Tadeh Qudas fixed the insectoid with a frozen glare. “Be that as it may, let’s go over the mission.”

Tadeh Qudas went over the mission. Starting with the drop into the system, infighting had torn at the team. Blazer’s injury brought about even more confusion in the command chain, the team not relinquishing command to Zithe in a smooth manner.

Blazer hung his head in shame. He hadn’t let go of command after he was injured. Worse, he’d let his emotions get in the way. He had to remain hard in a mission and not let his feelings for his squadmates, Marda in particular, affect his decisions. He looked over at her and she shied away from his gaze, fingering the ring on her finger.

“You have another training mission in a decle,” Tadeh Qudas reminded them. “Be ready, and settle whatever issues you’re having, or it will be your last.”

The room sprung to attention as Tadeh Qudas left.

Blazer slumped back into his seat.  “Tadeh Qudas is right.  We allowed ourselves to get distracted.  Even I did, thinking about classes, home, my own personal issues,” he said, trying not to look at Marda.

Blazer almost jumped from his seat when Marda gave his hand a tender squeeze. He looked over, and she gave him a hopeful smile.

To Blazer’s surprise, Rudjick offered a few words of encouragement. “Hey, everyone screws the pooch at some point. That’s why we train so hard.”

Blazer had to tear his eyes away from Marda to acknowledge Rudjick. He was right, of course, but he didn’t need to be so crude. “Regardless, we need to stop letting outside pressures affect us while we’re on mission.”

“Midterms tend to have that effect,” Chris added. Those exams were only two decles away.

Matt leaned forward. “That’s not what was bothering me.”

Blazer looked at him, curious what could be bothering their sniper so much.

“I don’t want to burden you all. I’ve done well enough getting past what happened to Ferelias. But I’ve been following reports, and efforts to retake the system are going slow or totally stalled. It looks like we won’t be able to retake it for quite some time, if ever.”

Arion turned to Matt, his psychologist face on. “There’s something else bothering you.”

Sighing, Matt went on. “This cycle, it’s mine and Lademine’s anniversary. I proposed to her exactly an annura ago. Thing is, despite all the reports, I can’t help but feel that she’s alive out there, somewhere, that maybe the Geffers took her captive. I mean, there’s no way they would just destroy the whole station and not take prisoners.”

Chris took a knee in front of Matt. “You can’t keep thinking that way.”

“I know. I just have to work through it. I’ll find a way.”

Arion laid a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “We’ll all help you. Now come on. Let’s see if anyone else fared better than we did.”

Blazer just sat there a moment, feeling Marda’s hand in his.  Will I end up like that, if something happens to her?  He met her eyes and she shook her head, smiling again, but he could read the same fear in her.      I will never let that happen. Whether we’re together or not, Marda will not die on a mission again.

UCSBA-13, Dorm Room 305

Matt sat in silence at his desk several hects later, focusing on his class work, everyone else in the room leaving him to his quietude.  All attempts at consolation fell on deaf ears, Matt waving them away despite the overwhelming pain he felt.  None of them know what I feel, but Vaughnt may have come close this cycle.  What an idiot, though,getting involved with a squadmate.  Something happens to either one of them in the field, and the whole unit could fall apart.

The door chimed after Gavit got up from his homework, and he headed to it. Chris stormed the room, shoving Gavit out of her way after he opened it.

“Everyone but Gavit and Matt, out. Now!” Chris barked, her voice carrying as much authority as any of their drill instructors.

Blazer moved to protest, but a cold stare from her silenced him. He signaled the others, then gathered up his macomms and data cards before he, Arion, and Bichard rushed out of the room.

Matt refused to acknowledge her and focused on his classwork. “What do you want, Chris?”

“Look at me when you talk to me,” she ordered, taking a step towards him as the door closed.

Matt turned around in his chair, his face defiant. “What do you want?”

“I want you to cry,” she said. She grabbed another chair and took a seat opposite him.

“What?” he asked. “What will that accomplish? My family and the woman I love are dead. None of you can understand that, especially not Gavit. His family left Ferelias annura ago.”

“But Blazer can understand the loss of family and a lov…”

“He was a child when the Vaurnel was destroyed, he could do nothing to save them. I’m an adult and cut off at the knees. I can’t do anything. I’m stuck here.” He balled his hands hard enough to whiten his knuckles.

“I know what it is to lose the love of your life!” she said, locking eyes with him again, a glimmer of tears in them.  “You can’t understand what I saw when he died.  You didn’t have to watch as he burned to death.  You didn’t have to watch.  It wasn’t an enemy solider that killed him, but just some drunk.  You didn’t watch when that drunk staggered out of his truck with little more than a few scratches, while you sat there bleeding and broken, watching your love die.  So don’t you go telling me that I don’t know what loss is, that I don’t know how it feels to lose your greatest love, the only one you’ve ever shared your most intimate self with! Because I do, you son of a crimik!”

“I didn’t know,” Matt replied, feeling humbled. “But what can I do about it? I can’t do anything. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead, if it was quick or slow, or if those Geffer bastards did anything to her before she died. I just don’t know.”

“And you think you’d rather have been there?” Chris countered, wiping away a tear. “You think you would rather have watched when any of the scenarios dancing in your head occurred? You would be dead then too, and the dead can’t bring justice. The dead can’t go after the bastards that did it and smash their head into the pavement over and over again until onlookers pull you off them,” she went on, recounting the events of the terrible duwn when her former lover died.

“Right now you’re bottling up everything so much that when it explodes, you’ll take out the whole Academy. Believe me, I remember that. You can’t let those emotions get the better of you,” she explained as the tears welled to such a point that they obscured her eyes, but she didn’t wipe them away.

Matt couldn’t believe what he was seeing or hearing.  I’ve never seen this side of Chris.  She’s always come across as this rock, a hardened warrior, no emotion, no weakness.  As he watched tears well up in her eyes, though, he realized why that was, and he found in her a kindred soul. She understood his pain, and he could go to her for help.

“I have to be the rock,” he said, looking down at the floor, no longer able to meet her eyes. “For the younger ones, the new cadets, the ones who just came from Ferelias. I can’t let them see me cry, can’t let them know I hurt. They’ll come look to me for support and help. How can I do that if I turn into a bubbling crying mess?” he asked, his voice starting to crack.

“Don’t be the rock,” Gavit said, taking a knee next to his friend, and laid a hand on his shoulder—it sagged under the weight.  “They can look to the officers or the enlisted or even me, if they need support or reassurance.  We all know you feel pain, but just like Chris says, you have to let it out. You have to grieve.”

“You say you have to be the rock,” Chris held, lowering her head to look him in the eyes again. “But you only have to be the rock out there, not here,” she countered pointing at the deck. “Behind that door, or any doors, you don’t have to be the rock. You can let go here, and you can grieve.”

“What if they come to me here? What if they need my shoulder to cry on, my advice?” he asked, the first few tears ready to burst from his eyes.

“We turn them away, and you go to them once you’re cleaned up and your head is clear,” Chris said and the floodgates opened on both of them. “Sometimes even the rock can cry with other mourners.”

Matt broke down crying and she moved in to hug him. She pulled him close, letting him sob into her chest.

“Lademine,” he wailed, as if saying her name would bring her back, while Chris rocked back and forth. Gavit squeezed Matt’s hand for comfort, just to let him know he was there. They continued the crying session until Matt was too tired to continue, his tear ducts exhausted and Chris’s shirt soaked with tears.

Matt knew that this was only the first step in his grieving process and it would be some time before he fully healed, if ever. For now, he could at least sleep and knew that he had someone to go to, to help him through what were sure to be many tough tridecs ahead. Outside the doors of their rooms, he would appear as strong as a granite cliff face, a pillar of support for the other cadets from Ferelias. Back in his room he could let go, and for now, that was enough.

UCSB DATE: 1001.212

Nasha System (Galactic Federation Held), En-Route to Nasha-3, Dropship-211

Hanging onto a handhold behind the command chairs, Blazer watched Gavit, Mikle, and Acknit guide their massive Ferine dropship towards their objective. The dropship’s crew raced the tri-hulled craft through holes in Nasha-3’s near-space sensor net projected on the canopy ahead of them. Gavit and Mikle dove into gaps between ground- and space-based sensors, Acknit updating their displays as he kept their magnetic and thermal signatures to a minimum.

As they slipped past the lowest orbit of surveillance satellites, Blazer laid a hand on Mikle’s shoulder. “ETA?”

"Ten decimal five pulses to touchdown. I'd mount up in the AT-APT if I were you,” Acknit replied from his seat behind the two pilots, their All Terrain, Armored Personnel Transport in the bay below.

Acknit’s normal sleepy demeanor was gone, replaced by the consummate professional they needed in that seat. Blazer attributed it to the exercises they’d conducted to ready themselves for missions. Everyone’s exercises were different. For Blazer, he and Arion used operant conditioning to allow his helmet to initiate his transition into a cold warrior, ready to fight, ready to kill, the rest of his world nonexistent within its protective shell.

“Copy that,” Blazer replied and pushed on the backs of the pilot’s seats, propelling himself towards the rear of the flight deck.

With the skill of a practiced EVA specialist, Blazer grabbed the ascent line as he drifted past in the zero-G craft.  Wrapping his hand around the line’s grip, he thumbed the down control.  The handle jerked him down into the cavernous main bay of the central fuselage, reminding him of his almost carefree time as a buoy boy.  He turned back to look at the AT-APT. The rest of the team waited within, where its armored shell was proof against small arms fire and even some larger weapons.

He came to a landing beside the transport where it sat clamped to the deck, its degrav generators cold. The magnetic locks in the boots of his ACHES secured him to the deck, and he marched around the nose of the vehicle. He signaled Arion in the driver’s seat to spin up the main generator.

His face unreadable through the helmet of his ACHES, Arion signaled ready over the link, a blue light winking on in Blazer’s HUD. A moment later, the AT-APTs engine whined to life.

Reaching the side hatch, he climbed inside and looked at the others. Clad in their almost identical ACHES, only the UV tags on their suits identified them to each other. The hard lock harnesses kept them secure as the first buffets of atmosphere licked the dropship’s hull. Blazer slipped into his seat, pulling the harness closed before checking that his rifle was secure, and addressed the others. “Mark eight pulses to touch down. Arion, gun it as soon as we’re dirtside.”

Nasha-3, Insertion Point

The G-forces pushed Blazer into his seat as the dropship pulled out of its insertion dive over two hundred kilometra south of their objective. Flying over the land like some great beast of legend, they avoided local farms and populated areas and brought the ship in for a landing behind a massive rock outcropping. With its outrigger pods lowered, the great ship settled above the ground, and the floor of the main bay descended, with the AT-APT resting on it. Before the platform touched ground, the AT-APT jumped free of the dropship and raced away like an animal escaping the clutches of a predator. Gavit lifted the dropship and raced away, the massive tri-hulled ship diving into a low valley to evade detection until getting a pickup signal.

Arion weaved the AT-APT through the low rolling hills, keeping the craft on grassy banks where possible to avoid kicking up dust.

“We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.  Don’t keep us waiting too long,” Acknit linked in from the dropship.

“Keep the engines warm. You know me, I never leave a party without a little heat,” Arion replied, dropping his hand for a moment to pat Big Red, the custom heavy plaser he and Gokhead built from his old Dagger’s C-8 Plaser cannon, a smile on his lips.

Blazer suppressed an urge to chew out his driver for joking with the dropship. They couldn’t afford to lose focus. Their injury and casualty rate had been too high in their last few missions. “Keep focused, people,” was all he allowed himself to say before he activated the holo-projector in the ceiling and the image of their objective snapped to life amongst them.

“Just like we briefed. We should reach Paris Base in a little over a hect. Intel reports that its offensive systems are lacking, relying on the airbase five hundred klicks to the east for air support. Its defenses are nothing to take lightly, but they’re focused on a large scale assault scenario. A small team like ours should get in and out relatively undetected.”

Chris snorted. Intel had never been accurate enough. Their last three ops were proof of that. Though her armor didn’t show signs of it, she fingered her chest where a mass driver round had punched through and killed her during their last mission.

Blazer ignored Chris’ protest. “We won’t be using the front door. The prison complex is located here.”

In the hologram, a small structure built into the wall of the castle-styled fortress lit up.

Blazer pushed aside a part of the image to reveal a ravine the castle overlooked and a sewage pipe emptying into the stream. “This is our way in. Arion, Bichard, and Matt will hole up here as backup in case we need it, or to get us out of here if we don’t. Our other two fire teams will then infiltrate the facility, any questions?”

No one responded.

“Good.”

A little over a hect later, Blazer examined the map with a curious eye as Arion parked the AT-APT halfway up a hill overlooking the ravine, where it would be hidden from the castle above.  Blazer checked readings on Arion’s screen, noting the contaminant levels in the water.  Disgusting, how can a civilization as advanced as this tolerate such indiscriminate pollution?  “Bichard, launch the drone and see if the intel reports were off.”

Bichard clicked his mandibles and complied. Pulling a small control console from its cradle, he activated the surveillance drones. A hatch on the back of the AT-APT opened, and a cluster of tiny insectoid robots sprang free, gossamer wings carrying them across the hill toward the ravine. Bichard guided them with ease through the special input helmet that transmitted each insect’s findings to a different facet of his giant eyes. The irony of him controlling robotic flying insects did not escape Blazer or the rest of the team.

Each of the insects carried one of a slew of different surveillance systems. The swarm acted in concert to relay their data and give the team the most complete picture possible. Blazer fingered the sensor array in the face of his ACHES, the composite image they generated taking him a moment to adjust to. As they cleared the hill, Bichard jerked, mandibles clattering in surprise.

Chris pulled open the secondary console in response. “What’s the matter?”

“Intel was off about base defenses. I’m reading two heavy plasers on each castle tower. On the plus side, the sewage tunnel has only two automated anti-personnel guns that I can detect. The rest of the area is clear.”

Blazer nodded and turned towards Matt. “Close enough. Matt, take those two down by the stream out quickly. Arion, get us down there as soon as he’s finished.”

Neither man spoke but only grunted in reply, as Matt freed himself of his seat and grabbed his sniper rifle before heading to the hatch.  Blazer looked over the data again and paid particular attention to the orbital logs.  The last thing we need is another corvette in orbit above us, like the last time.

Nasha-3, Paris base, Detention Center

If anyone had asked Chris an annura before if she would be uncomfortable with this, she would have said no. Her body and its appearance had always been one of her most potent weapons. But in the wake of their interrogation training, she had to admit that she wasn’t as comfortable revealing herself to others. Even during PT exercises, she found herself wearing modest clothes.

But now, stripped of her armor, she wore only a strength-enhancing, form-fitting body glove. She had opened the front to the point that her breasts almost fell out and strode into the detention center with an innocent look on her face. She approached the guard at his control desk. “Excuse me, I think I’m lost.”

The guard didn’t even look up. “This is a restricted area, no civilians allowed.”

Chris worked to keep the smile on her face as genuine as possible when the man refused to look up at her. She used her most seductive voice and pushed her breasts forward as she reached the console. “Please, sir, if you can tell me how to get back to the main square, I would be forever in your debt.”

The man looked up and, on seeing her bare flesh, met her eyes and grinned.

Chris clasped one hand around the other behind her back.  It was all she could do to keep from opening the man’s throat with her hold-out knife.  He was a dead ringer for the guard who had molested her during interrogation training.  She almost lost her composure.  It can’t be him. His eyes and hair are a different color, and his nose doesn’t have that crooked bump.  She smiled again.  “If you help me, I’ll do anything you want.”  The words disgusted her.

The man looked at her, grinning. His arousal disgusted her, but she hid that fact the best she could. “What can I do for you?”

She smiled. Pushing her chest out even more, she slid her knife stealthily from behind her back. “Well, I’m looking for Berelis Nact. Can you tell me what cell he’s in?”

“How do you know about that thing?”

That’s all I need to hear.  Chris’s answer was short and to the point as she slashed the man’s throat wide open.

His hands flew to his throat in a vain attempt to halt the flow as he fell back spluttering and gurgling blood. He never had a chance to raise an alarm, and with no other guards patrolling this low priority prison area, it now belonged to the Blade Force.

Chris stepped around the console to look down at the man and the growing pool of blood. He looked even more like the guard from interrogation training now and she kicked him in the head, caving in the side of his skull.

Zithe walked in behind her, her armor draped across his arms. “Nice work.”

She turned to face him, zipping her body glove back up. “Just give me my armor.”

***

Blazer and the rest of the insertion fire teams stormed the area a moment later.  He gave an appreciative smile at the scene as Gokhead rushed towards the console.  Damn, she’s good.

Chris held up a hand to stop Blazer. “Don’t ever make me do that again.”

She did her job, what’s her problem?  “It seems to have done the job effectively.”

She looked back up at him as she slipped back on her leg armor. “Just don’t ask me to do it again.”

Blazer pushed past her towards the console. “I’ll think about it.”

He caught the look of disdain on Chris’ face before she pulled her helmet back on, closing off her face to him.  What does it matter if she didn’t like my orders? We got the job done.  On a mission, they had to be as cold and calculating as Tadeh Qudas.  Their success record in their last few missions should be proof enough that emotions had to wait until after the mission.

Blazer approached Gokhead as he busied himself at the console. Gokhead continued his search through the system’s database; speed was of the essence now. The next guard shift would arrive soon, and the previous shift outside the prison block lay dead in a maintenance closet only a hundred metra away.

“We have a problem,” Gokhead announced.

“What kind of problem?”

“It’s not just Berelius Nact here.”

Blazer looked over his shoulder. Gokhead was right. There were another fifty prisoners crowding the cells. He recognized many of the family names as Anulian, Drashig, Otlian, and more. Blazer straightened, regarding the others as they waited. Zithe, Rudjick and Chris assumed positions about the entrance, in case the next guard shift arrived early. Marda stood by the console with him and Gokhead, looking at the list as well. “That’s a lot of our soldiers, so what are we thinking?” she asked.

Blazer glared at the screen. “I’m thinking we only brought two thermal masks for Berelius and anyone else in his cell.”

Marda looked back at him. “So what do we do?”

Blazer turned towards the cells, then back at her, and pulled up his arm to activate a holographic display above it. The image would be invisible to outside observers, projected in a frequency only their ACHES’ visors would translate. He pulled up the mission objectives and read through the orders. There was nothing concerning other prisoners at all. Blazer regarded Gokhead. “Weapons locker?”

Gokhead nodded and pointed over his shoulder towards a row of cabinets in the wall. “Right there, why?”

It was decision time. Blazer swallowed hard. “We’re going to get them all out of here.”

Zithe moved to protest, but Blazer flashed a hold light to him over the link, stopping him.

“There are fifty more soldiers in there; capable soldiers. We’re not going to just leave them. Give them your backup weapons. Rudjick, distribute the weapons in the locker, then get ready to move out.”

“What’s your plan?” Zithe asked. “We’ll never get them through the sewer.”

“I know. That’s why we’re taking them out through the courtyard.”

Everyone looked at him, dumbfounded. The courtyard was a fortress, impenetrable to the dropship thanks to heavy turrets on the towers.

Blazer waved them off. “Drop, this is Lead.”

“Drop, go ahead, Lead,” Gavit replied.

“Prepare for immediate dust off. There’s been a change of plans.”

“Copy that Lead. What’s your status?”

“You’re going to come and pick us up.”

“Say again, Blazer?”

“Link Discipline!” he scolded Gavit. “Don’t worry. The defensive situation will be resolved before you arrive.” He cut the link to the dropship, then called Arion. “Bear, Lead,” he called.

“Go ahead, Lead.”

“Prepare to storm the castle.”

“Copy that.”

Blazer drew up a new battle plan on his arm display and forwarded it to the rest of the squad. “This is our new plan. The situation has changed and we need to flow with it.” His failure to flow with changes in the last few missions had cost them. The soldiers in those cells, however, should give them a fighting chance he felt he had to take.

Blazer took a deep breath and turned to Gokhead as he watched Rudjick pull out the last of the guns from the weapons locker and lay them on the table next to the guards’ console. “Open the cells.”

Gokhead nodded. A moment later, the cell doors swung open. Several of the captured soldiers rushed out, but stopped upon recognizing the Blade Force’s ACHES.

Rudjick motioned towards the weapons tables like an overeager kid. “Congratulations. You’ve just been liberated by the Blade Force. We Cell and Bye.”

Blazer cringed at the catch phrase Rudjick had come up with for the team and resisted the urge to scold Rudjick over the little announcement. He strode into the holding area, his voice set to broadcast over speakers in the mask of his helmet. “We’re here to rescue you. If you can carry a weapon, go to the security-blind elf over there. If you’re injured, talk to the woman with the med-kit. This is a jail break.”

Blazer nodded as a handful of prisoners headed towards Marda.  The rest made their way towards Rudjick and Zithe as they handed out the commandeered Galactic Federation weapons. When those ran out, they handed over the team’s own back up sidearms and two extra rifles. A single creature separated itself from the pack and approached Blazer.

He couldn’t recognize its species at first. It looked like a conglomeration of numerous races, which—along with its face and distinctive foul odor—were his only clue as to its identity: Berelis Nact, a Necrid.

The Necrid were a curious species. One of the older intelligent races in the galaxy, they practiced extensive genetic modification upon their own genome. After countless millennia, no one knew what they looked like beneath the modifications or their original genome sequence. Every time the Necrid met or studied a new race, they would find a beneficial trait or aspect, and incorporate it into their own genes. Once the Necrid discovered a way of doing so on an individual level, instead of modifying each generation, each individual became different.

Blazer had only met two Necrid before and could only find one commonality—their mouths. The great tendril-filled maw had inspired terror dreams for ages when he was younger. The tendrils within wriggled non-stop, as if each were its own individual creature. Blazer felt thankful that the fasting membrane covered them. From the look of this one, the time of the great feast would be upon it soon, its fat reserves almost spent. They had no carrion for Nact to eat, however. Despite generations of modification, Necrid were still only able to digest decomposing animal and vegetable matter.

Blazer sealed his helmet against the smell as the ten-tentacle horror approached. Each tentacle looked to have a different type of skin, from water born, to fur and even some form of armored flesh. An appendage that looked like a clawed hand rose up at Blazer in an act of friendship, as it exuded its foul-smelling relief pheromones. “I am Berelius Nact.”

Blazer reached out and raised his own hand in greeting as well, careful to avoid contact, as that would invite insult.

“I assume you are here to rescue me.”

Blazer nodded and felt grateful that the mask of his helmet covered up the disgust etched across his face.  “That’s right. Do you need to see our medic?” He couldn’t tell by looking what was an injury, and what was just a modification Berelis Nact had found advantageous.

“No, I am in good health, though my hunger grows.” He looked over the other prisoners. “You realize the importance that I represent.”

Blazer resented the insinuation. He’d been briefed that Berelius Nact was an excellent tactician and critical to the war effort in this sector. More than that, Necrid were prized captives by the Galactic Federation. Their mixed genomes made them ideal test subjects for the creation of chemical and biological weapons.

Blazer motioned towards the other prisoners as they armed themselves or sought medical attention from Marda, Chris assisting her. “We couldn’t just leave them behind.”

“But I am of key importance. Maybe some of your people can sneak me out the way you came in.”

Behind his mask, Blazer’s lip twisted in disgust. “No, we are all getting out of here.”

Berelius raised a scaled, clawed hand. “I can turn the tide of this war. You will leave these others behind or sneak me out a safer path.”

In response, a tall, muscular, four-armed Otlian stepped forward, Zithe’s backup rifle in his lower set of hands. "Master Sergeant Geld Rhind, Sir. My squad and I can provide all the cover you need. After we found out Berelius was held here with us, we intended to escape with him. Since you’re here, we’ll give him cover.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” Blazer replied, the Otlian’s normally floppy ears cropped short enough to make them stand straight up.

“What’s the plan then, sir?”

Blazer cringed at that. He wasn’t an officer yet, and by all rights this sergeant outranked him as a cadet.  Looking around the room he also spotted two other officers, they wore O-20 bars, but they had no command pips to challenge him with.  Still, better not to mention that.  “We have a Ferine dropship waiting in the lowlands and an AT-APT down in the ravine.  We plan to bring them both in and get everyone out from inside the compound.”

“And how do you plan to do that? The turrets on those towers will tear your dropship apart.”

“Then we tear apart the turrets first.” He motioned over his shoulder at Rudjick and Gokhead, each of them carrying a single antitank rocket on their backs.

The Sergeant looked down and smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

“The AT-APT has a big enough turret and we have enough heavy weapons to make quite a mess of the place before the dropship arrives. After that, we just hold the courtyard and bring the Ferine in.”

Blazer turned to address the others.

“First squad and I will take the lead. Second squad, I want you in trail. Armed soldiers will array on the flanks to cover the injured in the middle. We keep to cover and we get everyone out alive.” Blazer pulled up a floor plan of the facility. “This is our best route out to the courtyard. We take out any resistance we encounter and once out in the courtyard, we take out the turrets on the towers. Bear, come in”

“Go ahead, Lead.”

“How long for you to reach us?”

“I’m on my way. Be there in twenty pulses. We’ll attempt to take out the AA turret closest to the gate before you get to the courtyard.”

“Drop, Lead.”

“I copy, Lead,” Acknit replied.

“Time your approach to arrive five pulses prior to the Bear. Take out the other turret on your way in. Then set it down and we load up the troops and get out of here.”

“Copy that, boss. That wasn’t in the orders was it?” Gavit asked. “The orders were just to…”

“Cut it, Drop.” Blazer looked back at the others. Going off orders had almost ruined their last operations, but this time he had no choice. “I know this is not the original plan, but we are not leaving these soldiers behind. Let’s move.”

Blazer led the group out of the prison block, ever on the lookout for guards and other enemy personnel.  The hallway outside wrapped around one of the inner towers, and opposite the prison block stood the doors back into the main fortress. The group arrayed themselves on either side of the massive double doors. At Blazer’s signal, Rudjick affixed a breaching charge to the doors.

From their position, Blazer glimpsed the access panel to the sewer they had entered through. Blazer’s fire team, consisting of himself, Zithe, and Gokhead, stood to one side of the doors, Marda’s fire team opposite, and half the prisoners behind each team. Blazer had to time the escape to provide maximum confusion for the enemy forces, drawing their attention away from the approaching dropship and AT-APT. Checking his clock, Blazer decided the wait was long enough and signaled to Rudjick.

Rudjick detonated the breaching charge. The young elf had been itching to blow something up all mission. The hinged double doors vaulted open in response, crushing two guards watching from the outside.

Zithe and Chris tossed a pair of the flash grenades down the corridor in opposite directions. The charges detonated, and the group dashed into the passageway, weapons up and at the ready. The few guards in the almost empty corridor stumbled about, dazzled by the grenades, and never even saw Blazer’s fire team before they took them down.

Blazer led the way through the facility. Following the map in his HUD, he ran at a half crouch, downing any GF soldier who came out to investigate the earlier explosion, with no more emotion then he would a pestering insect. His team was efficient, firing only when they had a shot. Sergeant Rhind’s soldiers were not so precise, their indiscriminate fire drawing a scowl across his face.

Blazer signaled Rudjick ahead as they neared the main doors into the courtyard. With the precision of a practiced expert, Rudjick placed the breaching charge and took his position by the door as the others formed up to storm the courtyard.

Blazer took a deep breath, checking his mission clock and gave the signal.  The blast rattled his armor as Rudjick triggered the breaching charge.  The grenades that followed caught the guards outside flat-footed before the Blade Force rushed them. They downed the few guards still on their feet and signaled the prisoners to follow.

The prisoners rushed from the doors, towards the cover of a series of concrete barriers outside, Berelius Nact in the middle of the group. That shelter wouldn’t protect them for long under a sustained barrage, so Blazer signaled Rudjick forward.

Rudjick snatched the anti-tank rocket from his back and dove from cover. He landed on his feet between two of the wider-spaced barriers and triggered the rocket. “Rocket Out!” he screamed and leapt behind the next barricade.

The rocket streaked across the courtyard before crashing into the double doors opposite the ones they had just emerged from. Gouts of flame exploded outwards and the stone wall crumbled, closing off passageways before more enemy troops could escape them.

Blazer grinned, then signaled to Gokhead.  The young Drashig took his rocket launcher ran out into the courtyard.  He didn’t even pause as he fired at the turret closest to the approach road to the gate.  The rocket found its home below the turret’s rotation mechanism.  The limestone casements exploded and for a moment nothing more happened.  But then, with a great wrenching of metal, the turret fell into the courtyard.

“Bear, you are clear,” Blazer called into the link, unable to hide his gleeful excitement.

“Copy, Lead. On our way.”

Blazer swallowed hard as countless soldiers raced onto the parapets, laying down wild fire into the Blade Force’s cover. The weapons fire soon began to chip away at the barricades, the plasma rounds flash-boiling trapped water in the cement with explosive results. A round pierced the wall beside him, and Blazer searched for better cover.

“Fall back to the guard shack,” Blazer ordered and motioned towards the armored guardhouse next to the main gate.  Looks reinforced, it should be better cover.  The group bounded back as fast as they could, laying down covering fire, just before the courtyard gate exploded inwards.

Blazer looked up as the splintered remains of the gate hit the opposite wall with enough force to tear holes in it. Turning, he spotted the AT-APT speeding into the courtyard, its Gatling plaser cannon chattering away.

Soldiers on the parapets fired on the vehicle, but the blasts bounced off the hull doing little more than singeing the paint. The turret of the AT-APT then swung about to engage the second turreted tower. Plasma rounds tore through the casements. Bricks exploded under the barrage, the water trapped within flash boiling. A moment later, the turret slid free of its mounts with a great sound of screeching metal and fell back onto the parapets. The screams of crushed soldiers echoed through the courtyard as the wall collapsed under the weight.

“Drop, you’re clear,” Blazer called out.

“Copy, inbound!”

Troops flooded the courtyard through the breach in the wall, pouring fire onto the Blade Force’s position. The team couldn’t even pop up to aim. They had to fire over their heads, aided only by their guns’ cameras transmitting to their helmets. It was an awkward way to fire and most of their shots went wide.

Blazer looked up for a moment when the AT-APT raced past again.  He glowered at the pinholes of red light shining through the armor.  We can’t stand this much longer.  “Drop, ETA?”

“On your heads,” Acknit replied as the last two towers exploded in gouts of fire moments before the dropship raced past and arced about.  Its turrets cut the parapets to shreds before it angled to land in the courtyard.  The dropship touched down and opened its ramps to the outrigger pods, the main fuselage still raised above the rest so that the dorsal and ventral turrets could supply suppressive fire.

“First Squad, Second Squad, cover the retreat. All personnel to the starboard pod. Chris, get Nact aboard. Bear, take the port pod.”

“Copy that,” Arion replied and parked the AT-APT in front of the portside cargo pod as the plaser cannon continued to pour fire into the courtyard doors.

Blazer took one last look.  Not the time to get sloppy.  He signaled, and everyone rushed the dropship. First and Second squad bounded back, laying down suppressive fire as the rest of the soldiers ran for the open ramp. Chris led the way with Berelius Nact. A Drashig private helped push him along. Despite their best efforts, several of the prisoners fell.

“Rhind!” Blazer called and tossed the Otlian his last plasma magazine. The sergeant dropped back but before he could slam the magazine home, a blast caught him in the side.

Blazer caught the Sergeant before he could hit the dirt. “I’m not letting you die here,” Blazer hollered, dragging the Otlian towards the dropship.

The sergeant raised his rifle in his lower right arm, the upper arm blasted away. He sputtered up blood as Blazer hauled him up the ramp. “Not sure how much say you have in that, son.”

Blazer took one last look out the ramp after his feet hit the deck. Dead bodies littered the ground. A few were escaped prisoners, but the majority were those of GF personnel. He couldn’t help but smile at that. “All personnel are clear! Bear, get aboard!”

“Already on it,” Arion replied, and the AT-APT reversed into the pod.

The dropship rose and took flight. The ramps closed ahead of the AT-APT and rescued prisoners, before spinning about and making for orbit.

“We have incoming fighters,” Gavit reported over the loud speaker. “Everybody strap the Sheol in.”

En-Route to Jump Point, Dropship 211

Marda cursed their lack of preparation as she stared into the gaping hole in Sergeant Rhind’s side. Her hands remained steady as she worked the cauterizer over the wound where his upper arm had been, but it wasn’t sealing fast enough and blood dripped onto the deck where she kneeled.  If I at least had him on the med table, I could save this blood.  “I need some more fresh transfusion cartridges.”

The situation was less than ideal.  Despite the cavernous size of the bay, they had not had enough time to set up the emergency medical suite after their rushed escape.  That left her only the grime-covered deck of the starboard outrigger bay to work on, while Chris scrambled to expand the medical suite from the wall.  If we survive this, next time we’ll have expanded the suite before we pick up.

The Sergeant extended his good right hand to stop her. “Stop. There are others who need you more.” He pointed at several other soldiers nearby as they clung to the cargo webbing. They were injured as well, but not as critically as he.

The faces of every rescued prisoner who died under her care in previous operations flooded her mind. “No. I’m not losing anyone this op!”

“And I’m not going to let you waste your efforts on me. Not when there are others you can save.”

“Don’t bet on it!”

He swallowed hard and Marda’s eyes went wide in recognition. She reached up to grab his throat, but it was too late. Green foam boiled out of his mouth.

She pounded on his chest and cursed his Otlian pride. “Damn it, no!”

Chris came over and grabbed her away from the Sergeant as he convulsed and all movement stopped. “You can’t save them all, Marda. He made his choice.” She looked down at him. “Blew out his venom duct.”

Marda nodded, watching the body. There was something missing. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but looking up at Chris, she got to her feet. “Let’s just make sure he’s the last one,” Marda commented and ran to the next soldier, still in disbelief that an Otlian would commit suicide like that.

***

The dropship rocked under another blast from the Solaar fighters chasing them. The Solaars were the Galactic Federation’s primary anti-bomber interceptors, and their heavy armament tore at the dropship’s shields.

Blazer stood by in frustration as he helped Gokhead and Rudjick set up the jump seats and get soldiers into them. “Drop, give me good news. How far to the jump point?”

“Too far, and we just lost turret control,” Gavit called back, slamming the control panel.

Blazer thought for a moment.  What can we do?  “Bear, what’s the status of the AT-APTs turret?”

“Charged and ready to go. I was just getting ready to power it down for the jump.”

“Negative. Drop, how fast can this crate go in reverse?”

There was a pause before Acknit came back over the link. “If we do a full reverse, we can sustain a fifteen G burn.”

Blazer nodded, a cold smile on his face. “Copy that. Spin us around and make a full reverse burn towards the jump point. That’ll bring the chin turret to bear. Arion, button up that AT-APT. Sync your cannon to the shields and open your hatch. Give them a big surprise.”

“Reading your mind, B,” Arion replied. “Matt and Bichard are headed your way. I’m about ready.”

“Clear,” Matt called. “Forward hatch is sealed.”

“Aft hatch sealed,” Bichard reported.

“Bear is ready,” Arion added. “Lower the ramp.” Arion whistled a pulse later. “Sheol of a view.”

“Standby for spin,” Mikle called. “Hold on down there.”

Blazer braced himself against the bulkhead as everyone else seized onto something solid before the dropship spun about around them. The acceleration absorbers took the brunt of the force, but Blazer had to fight the dizzy feeling the quick spin had thrown at him.

“Your cannon is now linked to our shields,” Acknit reported.  “Forward shields are full strength; give them Sheol!”

Blazer pulled up the AT-APT’s gun camera on his arm hologram. The Gatling plaser canon flooded the view with coherent energy before twin streamers from the nose turret joined it. Blazer grinned at the scene as the two turrets ripped away the shields of the interceptor before shattering the silica-steel canopy of the craft, shredding the pilot. The interceptor careened off into space a moment later, the craft’s wingman peeling off before the telltale bump of hyperspace entry echoed through the dropship and everything went dark.

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Neurosimulation Bay 2

Blazer breathed a sigh of relief as the cool darkness of the neurointerface helmet replaced the interior of the dropship bay. He couldn’t help but smile as he felt every muscle relax. For the first time they’d made it with the objective and every squad mate alive. The only friendly fatalities were Sergeant Rhind and two other soldiers who never cleared cover. He pulled off the helmet and looked up. He was drenched in sweat but it was a good kind of sweat. This had been their first fully successful operation. He looked around at the others. Everyone smiled, even Marda in the couch next to his. But an odd look hung over her face. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I just got pulled out of it a little at the end.”

“How’s that?”

“When the Sergeant died. Really when anyone out there died. Well, you don’t notice it in a firefight as much, but you do when you’re right there attending to them.”

What is she talking about?  He had killed plenty of soldiers in the simulation, some up close too.

“When someone dies and you’re like me, you see their spirit leave their body.”

Blazer nodded.  Right, she would see that more than the rest of us.

“When the Sergeant died, his spirit didn’t leave his body,” she sighed, rubbing her arms as if to warm them. “They probably have this problem with every combat medium who enters these systems.”

The technician unhooking her looked up in response. “It’s an oversight. You’re listed as a medic, not a combat medium. We’ll be sure to include it in the next go.”

Marda nodded to him. “Thanks. I think. But sometimes it helps to get pulled out of it a little bit.”

Blazer reached over and she took his hand, smiling back at him.  Do I mention the subtle tickle I feel in the back of my head?

Chris walked up, her legs steady. She was getting used to the system. “I got pulled out of it a little when we hit the cell block, too. The guard looked a lot like one of the guards from interrogation training.”

Blazer didn’t like the sound of that. “Sounds sloppy.”

“Yeah, but it almost made me blow the op, so I’m not sure that it wasn’t intentional. And if you ever…”

Blazer pulled his hand back from Marda and got to his feet, his face apologetic. “I’m sorry Chris, I didn’t realize.” Blazer realized now how much more conservatively Chris had started dressing after interrogation training. It was subtle at first, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her in anything but a standard uniform outside the locker room. “I thought you were still comfortable with nudity.”

Chris shook her head. “No, not anymore,” she admitted, looking down as she turned away. As a Chamalad, she had not been raised with taboos about nudity. Earlier training had forced her to abandon that.

Before anyone could say more, the door to the chamber sprang open and Tadeh Qudas stormed into the room. “Just what do you think you were doing in there?”

Blazer turned to his instructor in an instant. He was not about to get a dressing down for their performance. They’d had no team casualties and no loss of the primary objective. “We rescued all the prisoners there sir. There was nothing in our orders prohibiting that.”

Tadeh Qudas stormed into Blazer’s face. “Your orders were to rescue Berelius Nact, just Berelius Nact.”

Blazer stood his ground, even as Tadeh Qudas’ hot breath poured out of invisible ports in his mask over him. He was not about to back down despite the way his nerves quivered under that unyielding death gaze. “Sir, the orders said no such thing. While the orders called out Berelius Nact, they made no mention of the other prisoners who were only brought in the cycle before, according to the computer system. Intel did not know of their presence. We could not move that many prisoners out through the primary egress route, so we did the next best thing, and got as many out alive as we could.”

Tadeh Qudas remained stoic. “Eleven injured and three fatalities, and one took his own life when you could have saved him,” he went on, turning to Marda.

Marda stood her ground too.  “Yes, sir.  If I’d only recognized that he was about to blow out his venom sack I could have saved him.”

He took a step towards her. “What is the first priority when treating a severely injured Otlian, cadet?”

Marda remained silent for a moment. She hung her head in shame a moment later as the realization hit her. “You paralyze their venom sacks.”

“Exactly,” Tadeh Qudas continued. “But what is your excuse for destroying the facility?”

What? I know we trashed the place on the way out, but it was still standing when we left. Did we pull an Explosions and damage a major structural feature?  Blazer shrugged.  “Collateral damage?”

“Hardly. The main fusion reactor blew right after you made orbit. Someone initiated an overload.”

Blazer pulled back in confusion and looked around the room.  We never came close to the fusion plant, did we?

Gokhead stood up behind him. “That was me.”

Blazer shot a look back at Gokhead and stepped between him and Tadeh Qudas. “Sir, I take full responsibility for the actions of everyone under my command.”

Tadeh Qudas fixed Gokhead with that unwavering stare. “I want an explanation!”

Blazer had to admit, he did too.

“Sir, the Nasha system’s main jump point orbits a hyperspace mass shadow on the hyperspace side.”

“He’s right,” Matt commented. “It was how we were able to reach it so quickly. Due to that shadow it has, at last count, seven other jump points in close proximity.”

It was a curiosity of hyperspace. Most jump points tended to drift about, with no clear rhyme or reason. Those that were near the visible dark shadow of a hyperspace object, however, tended to take up wild orbits around them instead. It left their positions uncertain but somewhat predictable.

“Exactly, and three of those are to Drashig colony worlds,” Gokhead went on.  “Prior to the war, Nashtig was a Drashig mining colony, despite the reversed amino acids of the local life there.  Also, one of those colony systems has an opportune jump point back to the Drashig home system.  The Galactic Federation doesn’t know that, but they’ve been staging raids into Drashig territory for annura out of that system. Disrupting their base of operations, even for a short time, felt worth the risk.”

“While I did not approve of my squadmates’ actions,” Blazer commented, fixing Gokhead with a hard glare.  “I would have, had I known the larger strategic situation.  However, in the future, I want such actions run past me first!”

Tadeh Qudas drew back. “I see. Get yourselves cleaned up and to the debriefing room in twenty pulses.”

Blazer sighed in relief, but when he looked up, he found Tadeh Qudas still looking his way.

“There are moral calls we have to make during missions. The additional prisoners were one of those. It does us no good to train you to be soldiers if you cannot uphold the moral code of the Confederation. Destroying the base was just reckless. You are not privy to the Confederation’s strategic plans.”

“Sir,” Blazer called. “What would you have done?”

“Telshin leave none behind.”

“And what about the base?” Blazer pressed.

“Telshin leave none behind, or alive.”

UCSBA-13, Wooded Area 1

For once, Blazer didn’t care that their simulation ended after classes were over. While it meant that he would have to make up the work later, it also meant that he wouldn’t have to rush into a lecture. Most important, it afforded him some time to unwind. He needed time to process after getting out of the Neurosimulation matrix. Even after taking a shower, he still felt like he needed to just walk around to get the feel of the mission off his skin.

Marda joined him for the first time since the incident with Kamden, and they walked hand in hand through the woods.   Blazer squeezed Marda’s hand as they approached the tree that had been their favorite picnic spot.  Do I go for it? Yes.

He pulled Marda close to him, flattened his back to the tree, and kissed her.  She did not push him away or resist and actually kissed him back that much harder.  They lingered there in the embrace for a long moment before Blazer took Marda’s hand. He held it up so that light filtering through the leaves shone on the starfire opal ring.

They both looked at the iridescent jewel for a long moment before Blazer broke the silence. “I should have been more honest with you about Kamden, I just…”

Marda pressed a finger to his lips.  “We all have things in our family we’re ashamed of.  But we’re not those people, you are definitely not anything like her.  Your actions this cycle are more than proof of that.”

Blazer felt like he could melt in relief.  “Then let’s get married next break.”  Did I just say that?

Marda looked up at him and returned a curious smile. “Are you serious?”

Blazer considered it for a moment and nodded. “Yeah. We’ve been here over an annura. We can get married per the regs. Why don’t we? I love you, Marda. And I’m not just feeling good after the mission. I want to quit playing around and marry you.”

Marda thought about that for a long moment. Then she looked up at Blazer and smiled. “I can do it. It’ll be small, intimate, but I can do it, and I know just the place.”

“Good,” Blazer replied and ,pulling her back to him, kissed her.  “I’ll get us clearance and in two tridecs we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Vaughnt.”

Marda kissed him and let her hands drift down, exploring his backside. “I still haven’t said yes to that yet. You do have a sister to carry on the family name after all.”

Blazer continued to kiss her and slipped his hands beneath the back of her shirt.  He tickled the spot just above her belt line that he knew just melted her in his arms.  “So do you.”

Marda slid her own hands around to his front, placing one on his chest as she cupped his groin with the other. “We’ll discuss it later. Right now, it’s just you and me.”

Blazer didn’t need to be told twice. Sliding down against the tree, he pulled her to the grassy ground.

UCSB DATE: 1001.002

Anul System, Anul, Midduwn-Messiahist Church

Marda pulsed with nervous energy as she stood before the full-length mirror, still amazed by where she was and what she was about to do. The church she stood in was the very one she’d worshiped in since she’d first moved back to Anul so many annura before. Looking out the window, she gazed upon the massive ancient walls of the Royal Cathedral, its towers and spires casting shadows across the older, smaller church. Nestled just beyond the castle walls and moat of the grand Castle Nocturnal, it was the place where two of the greatest Knights Nocturnal had shared their vows, not in the grand cathedral as so many proclaimed. It humbled her to think that she would wed here, and she counted herself lucky that they were able to secure it on such short notice, even if it was for just a few hects.

Marda looked at the mirror again. The dress she was wearing had been her grandmother’s and the old woman’s ethereal orb now hung beside her. “It fits you so well, dear one, though a little tighter than I wore it.”

Marda shook off the jab. She was not the slight figure her grandmother had been. The dress was far more-form fitting as a result, but the shimmering material dazzled her, as every light that shone upon it made the material dance with gorgeous color.

Marda’s sister ran up and handed her the headpiece. Marda slipped it on over her intricate hairdo, doing her best not to disturb it before her cousin, the hairdresser, stepped over to help. They slid the heirloom tiara into place. The sheer blue silk cloth that served her mother as a veil lay draped behind her hair as a symbol that she would take her husband’s name.

Marda’s sister, grandmother, and cousin exchanged glances at the placement of the veil, but it was her sister who gave voice to her concerns. “Are you sure you want to take his name. I mean, he has a sister.”

“Anlis, so do I. Two, in fact, to carry on our family name. But I love Blazer, Schan, and I want to honor his family. It was my choice. Besides, I doubt Jell will ever marry.”

“Leave her be,” her cousin Marcel admonished. “At least she’s made a decision. Gregor and I are still arguing about it.”

Marda’s grandmother’s orb fluttered in frustration at her gay grandson. “Take his…”

“Grandmother,” Marda admonished. “I will not have this at my wedding. Apologize to Marcel.”

Marcel scoffed. “Think nothing of it, honey. Grandma’s just mad that I can’t hear her.”

The door to the room opened. Jell entered in a flattering green dress and stood for a moment in wide-eyed amazement of Marda’s iridescent gown. “Wow,” she said and closed the door behind her. “I just wanted to come in and say hello. I haven’t seen you since you since the Dask of Outcome.”

Marda gazed back at Jell for a long moment.  She’s Blazer’s sister.  Play nice, so long as she doesn’t do anything.  Marda waved Jell over and extended a hand, sure to display the Vaughnt family ring. “It’s good to see you too, Jell. You look wonderful.”

Jell didn’t even flinch as she shook the proffered hand. “Thanks, and you, you’re stunning.”

Marda caught her grandmother’s spirit eyeing Jell’s dress, her displeasure making her orb flare. Sighing, Marda turned back to Jell. “She doesn’t like revealing dresses and is barely containing herself that I fill out her old dress so much.”

Jell smiled and hiked up her dress a bit in an effort to hide her cleavage, it didn’t help. “I understand. I just wish Derjin could have come.”

Marda gave her a quizzical look.  Is Jell trying to be modest, or is she trying to make peace with me?

Jell blushed back. “He’s kind of my boyfriend. But he has to work and couldn’t take the time off.”

“I’m sorry, but we’ll meet him the next time we come to Capben, or you can always link us.”

Jell nodded. “Thanks. Marda, I’m glad you’re marrying my brother. You and he seem so happy together, the little I’ve seen of it, and I’m sorry I…” She looked up at the orb of Marda’s Grandmother and pulled back a moment. “I’m sorry I was such a little pain last time you were here. I’m glad you’re joining our crazy family. Just keep my big brother safe, okay?”

Marda felt tears welling up in her eyes but choked them back and hugged Jell, not caring if it rumpled the dress,. “Thank you, Jell. That means a lot. Just promise you’ll take of yourself too. Schan worries.”

Before they could say anything more, someone knocked at the door. Everyone turned to look as Marda stepped back behind her sister and cousin.

“Is everyone decent?” Marda’s father called in after cracking the door open.

“Come on in, dad.”

Marda’s father entered and gasped. He ran up, and Jell stepped aside. “You look lovely, dear. Are you ready?”

Marda shot a quick glance at her sister and cousin. Both of them nodded.

“Yes. Is everyone ready out there?” she asked.

“Ready and waiting, I just can’t…”

Marda pressed a finger to her father’s lips, silencing him. “You’ve been saying that all decle, dad. Let’s not keep people waiting.”

***

Nervous energy filled Blazer to such a degree that he felt ready to burst as he stood before the two assembled families. The church was far from full, with only their closest friends and family in attendance. Marda’s side far outnumbered his own, besides. The Vaughnt family didn’t even fill two rows of the church pews. Only his grandparents, sister, a handful of other aunts and uncles, and his friends from the Academy were sitting in them.

Arion and Bichard’s families had joined the procession.  The young Coretherian stood beside Blazer, the couple’s first mutual friend. Blazer looked about the church. There were more orbs in attendance than living people, but he knew none of them. The bundle of manifest tubules that were all that remained of Kamden’s sealed orb had been transported somewhere secret and his other orb remained at the academy. It felt strange not to have at least that one here.

He looked back at the priestess standing by the massive window behind her revealing the walls and spires of Castle Nocturnal. The sound of music drew his eyes back to the aisle as two of Marda’s young cousins danced towards him, scattering flower petals as they spun and jumped.

Blazer tugged at his dress uniform jacket. He thanked the commander of the local garrison for loaning him a fleet blue dress uniform for the cycle and signing off on their marriage. Beside him, Bichard still stood out. His red brown exoskeleton proved a glaring contrast to the marble walls and columns of the church. The ceremonial dress sashes crisscrossing his torso didn’t help.

Blazer had no time to think about that before Marda’s Maiden of Honor appeared. Marda’s best friend from school, she marched down the aisle in a more conservative cut of Jell’s green satiny dress. She would not pull anyone’s eyes away from the bride behind her.

Blazer gasped as Marda appeared, her father escorting her. Her dress shone in the light of the church. The iridescence grew with each step as she approached the light pouring in through the window behind the altar. Blazer felt his knees begin to weaken. She was more gorgeous than he remembered, radiating beauty as she approached. As she neared, he stepped down to take her hand, her father keeping hold of her hand longer then he needed. Blazer had to resist the urge to take her in his arms. Instead, he kissed her hand before turning to the priestess.

Beaming with pride, Blazer led Marda up to the altar.

Blazer began to feel as if here were standing in a prolonged formation as the priestess sermonized for close to half a hect on love, commitment, the importance of preserving the sanctity of marriage, and the sacred womb.  As she finished, she turned to the young couple.  She regarded them with kind eyes before she turned to Bichard. “The ribbon please.”

All eyes turned towards the Coretherian, and in a flourish, he pulled the ceremonial wrapping from his sash, handing it to the priestess.

The priestess accepted the ribbon and turned her attention back to the young couple before her. She pulled out a length of the lustrous cloth and, reaching forward, placed their right forearms together, elbow to elbow, and hand to hand. “Please, speak with me.”

They both nodded, and the priestess wound the ribbon twice around their arms, as the trio recited, “Bound by God.”

Taking the ribbon, Blazer wound it another three times. “Bound by love.”

He handed the ribbon to Marda, meeting her eyes. She gave him a smile and nod before she wound it another three times. “Bound by trust.”

Taking the ribbon once again, Blazer took his time wrapping it around their wrists once as they said in unison, “Bound through life.”

Marda retook the ribbon, and with measured patience, wrapped it once more around their wrists.  “Bound through riches.”

Blazer slid the ribbon around their wrists. “Bound through health.”

Taking the last length of the ribbon in her hand, Marda encircled it around their arms one last time. “Bound through peace.”

Blazer felt a pang at the irony of that. They were soldiers destined to fight a war together. They might see peace some cycle, but not any time soon.

The priestess then signaled the couple’s parents to stand and approach. “These two young people are bound through the good times, but what shall hold them together through the hardships life will bring unto them?”

The Admiral stepped forward. With somber eyes, he unwrapped the last length. “War.”

The Admiral stepped away and Marda’s father stepped up to them removing the next length. “Sickness.”

Blazer’s Grandmother took his place and undid the third length. “Poverty.”

With tears of joy and pain in her eyes, Marda’s mother opened the next length, her voice cracking. “Death.”

With the last four wraps removed, the priestess continued. “Despite the hardships that threaten to pull this couple apart and the good times that reinforce their bond, they are still bound by their trust and love in and for each other and for the God that created them.”

The couple’s parents resumed their seats as the priestess fixed the bindings.

Once finished, she turned, took Marda’s free left hand, and gave her a comforting smile. “Do you Marda Sciminder take Schan Vaughnt to be your husband? To carry his children within your womb and take his name as your own, through triumphs and hardships, bound by love, under the eyes of God, until the end of creation?”

Marda waited a moment and stared into Blazer’s eyes. He stared back into the emerald brilliance of her gaze and saw their whole life together up to that point, all the good times, all the bad, all the happiness and all the sorrow. Staring into those eyes, he glimpsed the rest of their lives together reflected back at him. His hearts soared as he found children, and grandchildren, war, and eventual peace, and he could not help but smile.

A calm air taking her, Marda squeezed his hand. “I swear it upon my immortal soul, yes.”

The priestess then produced the wedding band, a knotted strand of fine gold, and snapped it into place on Marda’ hand. Marda and Blazer looked down at the band—the twisted gold pieces a symbol of the bindings that held them together.

The Priestess took Blazer’s left hand, but he kept staring into Marda’s eyes. “Do you Schan Vaughnt take Marda Sciminder to be your wife? To love and care for her children, to give her your name, through triumphs and hardships, bound by love, under the eyes of God, until the end of creation?”

Staring back into Marda’s eyes, he saw nothing but life and hope, the knowledge that she was his everything, that she meant the whole of creation to him, reinforced with every beat of his hearts. He felt his knees weaken in that instant as his mind raced to remember the words. “I so pledge with all my soul.” The last of the nervous energy that coursed through his veins disappeared, replaced with warmth.

Blazer felt the priestess snap the wedding band on his own hand, sealing the metal at his wrist.

“Then by the power invested in me by the Third Messiahist Church, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now…”

Blazer didn’t wait for the priestess to finish before he kissed Marda. Pulling each other close, they locked in a passionate embrace, resisting the urge to do more. They sealed their lips together until their lungs burned for air, then pulled apart, never breaking eye contact. They stood there for a long moment as their families applauded them. Then, their arms still bound, forcing them to face each other, they retreated down the aisle. Spinning about as they proceeded, they all but danced towards the door.

***

Derjin waited in the building across from the church. Concealed from view in one of the upper levels, he watched the doors to the church open. Blazer and Marda proceeded out to the grav car waiting to take them to their reception. He turned to the other men in the room. In silence, they trained their surveillance gear on the scene, watching the rest of the congregation follow the happy couple.

Derjin turned his attention to Jell as she exited the church, her dress enticing his eyes and reminding him how close they’d become. Admiral Sadrick followed her and looked around at the surrounding buildings. He and his men made no attempt to hide—the protective glass they lurked behind made it impossible for the old man to see them. Their orders were clear. Make no contact with Blazer or Jell when the Admiral was present, lest the old man reveal them.

Derjin pulled away from the window as Jell disappeared into a grav car.  This wedding was not part of the plan, but they would adapt.  They had people watching Blazer at the academy, though their agent there did not report to Derjin or his men.  He worried about how far he’d allowed his relationship with Jell to progress and had to be careful not to let his leaders know just how far.  Don’t fall in love with her, idiot.

He looked back out the window as the last grav car headed away.   Jell would be upset that he couldn’t be at the wedding, but it was all a part of the grander plan.  He had to keep her safe and in the dark until the time was right.  Let’s just hope it comes later rather than sooner. It was not Derjin’s decision. For now, however, he would continue to keep her under close observation.

UCSB DATE: 1001.270

Star System: Classified, Transport MLD-562P, Enroute to UCSBA-13

Marda giggled as Blazer chased her up the spiral stairs onto the cafeteria deck. It was the first time they’d left their cabin since boarding the transport the cycle before, hunger forcing them to give up their bed for a time. When she reached the deck, she looked around. Recognition washed over her as Blazer wrapped his arms around her midsection, kissing her on the back of the neck. “This is where we first met.”

Blazer looked up and scoffed. “Son of a bug, you’re right. I hadn’t realized it when we boarded.”

Marda twisted about in his arms and kissed him again. “We were a little busy at the time.”

“Hey, no PDA!” Arion called from a table near the window.

“Besides, you two should have gotten that out of your systems by now,” Chris added from her seat across from Arion.

Marda felt her face flush and noticed the other cadets in the cafeteria, all of them staring at the newlyweds. She turned back to Blazer and slipped his old autocook data card out of his pants pocket, taking a moment to tickle him. “Get me what you made me the first time we met.”

Blazer smiled back at her, gave her a quick kiss and headed towards the autocook.

Marda ran over to the table where her two squadmates sat and took a seat beside Chris. “I thought you two were heading back earlier.”

Chris shook her head. “That was the plan. Then Arion and I met up at Torshen Transfer Station and decided to take a couple extra cycles.”

Marda looked between the pair and smiled. “Does that mean you two are…”

Arion almost gagged on his food and shook his head. “No, no. We just hung out and watched a bunch of bad movies.”

“That, and we made fun of all the civvies who couldn’t figure out zero G. What about you two? Have you even spent more than a few pulses out of bed this whole time?”

Marda blushed and looked at Blazer heading back with their food. “Only when we had to.”

“Only when we had to what?” Blazer asked.

Marda gave her husband an expectant smile as he slid a bowl of oatmeal with Tava Berries and brown sugar in front of her. “Good, you remembered.” She rewarded him with a quick kiss.

“Your blocks are still in place, right?” Arion asked.

Marda and Blazer both gave Arion an incredulous look. “Of course,” Blazer replied.

Marda nodded. “It’s not in the cards right now. I mean, Blazer and I want to have children, but given our training schedule and regime, it’s too much to risk right now. Maybe after graduation and commissioning we’ll readdress it. But even then…” That thought struck Marda hard. To think that she wasn’t sure when they’d have children seemed against everything she believed in. Most Messiahists got pregnant within the first annura of their marriage.

“Finally hit you, huh?” Chris asked.

Marda felt numb and looked up at Blazer. “Yeah. I mean I’ve always wanted children. So has Blazer. And I don’t want to wait until I’m old, even with rejuvenation treatments. But at the same time…”

“It’s the same thing every woman has to deal with. Have children when you’re young and better able to care for them physically, or wait until you’re older and your career is well established?”

Blazer cleared his throat and took Marda’s hand. “We’ll know when the time is right. From the way you’re talking, though, Chris, it sounds like something you’ve put some serious thought into.”

Chris nodded and looked away for a moment. “All the time. I may not seem like the maternal type, but I've always thought about it.  It's distracting at times, but I've always been careful.”

Marda scrunched up her face, looking at her friend and squad mate.  She’d never thought of Chris as promiscuous.  I know she’s dated at the Academy, even that Otlian guy, but I didn’t think she’d been serious about any of them.  “What do you mean? You have your blocks.”

Chris looked around the room. No one was within earshot, so she stole a glance at Arion. He nodded.

Marda had no idea what to make of the exchange and waited as Chris slipped a non-descript pill bottle out of her pocket and slipped it to her. Marda examined the bottle. There were no markings at all and she didn’t dare open it. “What is this? I mean… you didn’t get this from the academy pharmacy.”

Chris took a deep breath and looked around. “This doesn’t leave this table.”

Everyone nodded.

“Arion and I discussed this already. He was there when I got my resupply, so I had no choice. I’m technically a Chelot.”

Marda almost dropped the bottle, but maintained her grip on it, her jaw dropping. “What, but how?”

Blazer shook his head, incredulous. “That’s impossible Chris, I’ve read your file. You’ve met all your citizenship requirements and earned your confederacy too. You’re no Chelot.”

Chris took the bottle back from Marda and hid it back in her pocket. “My file’s not been falsified, but the information is not entirely accurate. It’s a Chamalad thing. The bottle contains Nano probes. They make it appear that I have my conception blocks in place.”

Marda had a hard time rationalizing that. She’d known Chelots in the past. Attending a private school, almost a quarter of her class were Chelots. Chelots were denied access to citizen taxpayer funded services like public schools, public medical centers (with the exception of emergency medical care), public assistance programs and so forth, so the only options were home-schooling and private schools.  They had to pay for those services out of their own pocket. The only advantage a Chelot had over a citizen was that they did not have to pay income taxes, but few businesses would hire them, so income wasn’t easily available anyway.

God, half the Chelot girls I knew were pregnant before they’d even graduated. I never wanted to run that risk, not before I had at least finished college.  To learn that Chris was a Chelot, in secret, terrified her, and she looked up at her. “Why? Why do any of it? Why run the risk?”

Chris took a deep breath before she replied. “There are races and even subcultures within various Confederation races that have gotten special dispensation to opt out of some of the citizenship requirements. Back when Anul first started the Unintended Conception Prevention Program, the Chamalad were one of the first groups to sign up.

“Our numbers had expanded to such a degree that, well, too many of us were on the social welfare programs and never contributed anything to society. So, the Chamalad elders agreed that in order to be a citizen, you had to have the blocks. But back in those early cycles, as a precaution, they didn’t install the blocks until you reached puberty. And because it was surgical in nature then, people would donate sperm or ova samples to be kept in government or private storage facilities, just in case. As the technology advanced, they used drugs, chemicals, and now the Nano probes.”

Blazer scratched at his chin and focused on Chris. “I know what you’re talking about. Before the UCPP, social welfare programs were draining the government dry on Anul, as well as other worlds. Schools were overcrowded, the rates of child abuse, drug abuse, joblessness, all of it was through the atmosphere. But the proof that it works is right there. Within what, a generation, maybe two, the rate of all that had dropped. Yes, those problems still exist, but they’re at a manageable level.”

It was a hot topic amongst Marda’s classmates and created something of a division amongst the student body. “This girl I went to school with still opposes the UCPP. She says it’s unfair to the poor and only benefits the elite.”

Chris nodded. “I know. That’s total garbage. The requirements for parenthood are not all that severe. You have to prove that you want children and that you are aware what that means.”

“I think the actual language is mentally fit enough to realize what raising a child entails,” Arion replied. “But you’re right. That is the biggest one and has prevented who know how many unwanted pregnancies and all the issues that go along with it.”

“Right, then you just have to be of legal age. No problem there; you’d have to be stupid to want a kid while you’re still one yourself.”

“I saw too many girls I went to school with having babies. I never understood why,” Marda replied. “All Confed races have agreed to those two requirements. It’s the financial requirement that’s always drawn the most issues.”

Chris sighed. “Exactly, but even the Chamalad, poor as we were when the UCPP was first announced, we jumped all over it. I mean all you have to do is prove you can support yourself and your child without public assistance or prove that your family can help, to get your blocks out.”

Blazer fingered the wedding knot on the back of Marda’s hand, tickling her. “Even the old marriage requirement was dropped, and none of the racial purity standards have ever gotten past the proposal phase.”

Marda looked at Chris. None of that explained why the Chamalad refused conception blocks. “Then why have the Chamalad stopped using the blocks?”

Chris fingered the bottle in her pocket. “Once the Nanite based blocks were developed, Chamalad women began to have difficulty having children after their removal.”

Marda had never heard of such a thing, but she waved Chris to go on.

“We kept it quiet within the community. But many of the children we managed to conceive after the removal of the blocks had deformities and birth defects, if they weren’t stillborn. It nearly ended the Chamalad as a people.”

That thought horrified Marda, and her hand fell to her belly. “Have other groups had similar issues?”

Chris looked around the room and motioned towards an insectoid alien at the food dispenser. “Some other races and groups have reported similar issues, and they’ve brought it up with the Confederation. Usually, action is taken to correct the problem, or to give waivers until a solution can be found. For us, our Chamalad pride kept us from going to the government for a solution.”

“What about the sperm and ova banks?” Blazer asked.

Arion scoffed. “What sperm and ova banks? The government no longer supports any, and there aren’t many private ones out there.”

“Arion’s right. The only reason we survived as a people is because the elders had babies again and we used up the last of the sperm and ova in storage from previous generations. Now that the blocks are placed during childhood, having a sperm and ova bank would only reveal that we’re Chelots, denying us all full citizenship. For some reason, the way we Chamalad develop is just different enough that the blocks render us permanently infertile.”

  This is hard to believe—but Chris wouldn’t lie about a thing like that.

“I didn’t know until I was a teen. Every time I went to the doctor, my mother would give me one of these,” Chris explained, fingering the bottle again. “The nanites inside would scatter, then gather in my uterus to convince the scans that I had a block in place. They just give the signal that they’re present and in a few cycles, I pass them.”

“So you’ve risked getting pregnant your whole life?” Marda asked.

“Yeah, and I almost did, once.”

Marda sat back and locked eyes with Blazer. She knew the risks as well as Chris must do. She had witnessed the results of someone living without the blocks.

“I was rebellious when I was younger, and I started hanging out with a rough crowd.  I got into a lot of trouble with them and I didn't always think about the consequences.  That's when my mom started to get worried about me and shipped me off to my grandma's.  I hated her for it at first, but I learned that what she did was the best thing she could have done for me. I spent a full annura at grandma’s ranch. I learned what it really was to be a Chamalad. Had I done what my boyfriend at the time wanted and gotten pregnant, it would have ruined my life.” Chris looked up at Marda. “I could never have enlisted. I could never have applied for Confederacy because my record would show that I was Chelot, and it would implicate my family as well.”

“But you could have had the blocks put in after that,” Blazer commented.

“And lose my ability to have children forever. Plus, it would have drawn attention to the Chamalad.”

Marda shot Blazer a hard look. “Blazer didn’t mean…”

Chris waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. But it’s the risk that all of us Chamalad face, even the males. We’ve been hiding it for so long it’s become a part of our culture.”

Marda had never considered what it took and what it meant to be a citizen, or what it cost some people. She looked back at Chris. “So what do you do now?”

“I’m careful. I use other contraceptives. Companies still make them for those who’ve had their blocks removed but want to regulate when they have children.”

Marda understood. Her mother had used them between pregnancies so that they didn’t have children too close together. After Marda’s youngest brother was born, though, she had her blocks put back in place.

“I didn’t mean to burden you with this, but I thought after what you and Blazer have just done, that you should know. I thought I could trust you all.”

“You can, and thank you.” Marda sat in silence for a moment, considering. To have children was one of the tenets of her faith, and the Messiahists had been one of the groups who’d fought the UCPP. The church only relented once they’d recognized what the UCPP had brought to society.

“Your secret is safe with us, Chris,” Blazer added and took Marda’s hand. “Just try not to get pregnant before us,” he went on with a smile.

Arion’s macomm chimed a moment later and he pulled it out.  “We must be close enough to the academy to get a signal.”  He opened up the message and his face scrunched up.  “We have a squadron meeting once we land. It looks like someone volunteered to be our new commander.”

UCSBA-13, Briefing Room 3

The squadron gathered as ordered a hect later.  Discussion and speculation ran rampant as they waited.  Blazer did his best to temper speculation, but even he had questions.  Is it someone we know, or someone new to the academy?  “Look, this is getting us nowhere.  The academy staff must have picked the crew themselves. Why else would Tadeh Qudas have sent the message?”

The briefing room sprang open and Trevis called the room to attention. All conversations ceased.

“As you were,” Tadeh Qudas ordered as he entered the room, alone.

Everyone sat down and looked about at one another.  Why is he by himself?

“There is a matter of some import that needs to be discussed with this squadron.”

Blazer felt a knot form in his stomach. Hearing that from Tadeh Qudas did not bode well.

“I’ve been in discussion with the Admiral since last cycle concerning the future of your squadron and the academy.”

Blazer’s shoulders drooped and he felt Marda’s hand clasp his. Good news never began with issues about the future of the academy.

“It is rare for two special operations teams to make up a squadron. Usually only one half of the unit is special operations.”

Blazer considered that.  Son of a bug, he’s right, we are the only squadron with two Special Operations teams on the roster. I wonder why they haven’t split us up?

“Now. You have been without a squadron commander for two semesters while engaging with Special Operations initial training. During that time, your flight training has been all but pushed aside.”

Blazer heard a snort from Gavit. Aside from their dropship crew, the rest of them had only flown simulator tests during the past two semesters. Blazer had only flown when Chief Flind had asked him to demonstrate his modified trainer to representatives of the fleet and Splicer Corp, before they hauled it away. He’d been so entrenched in the Special Operations regime, that he hadn’t even realized how long he’d been out of the cockpit.

“With your impending return to the cockpit and competition for fighter type selection, it’s come down to me to decide your fate.”

Blazer prepared himself to fight back against any unfair decision to come. Admiral Sares had commended their performance in battle the annura before, and Blazer wouldn’t allow the academy to break them up without a fight.

Tadeh Qudas raised a hand to quell their fears. “As of four hects ago, I have taken command of the Monstero Nach.”

The sound of Mikle dropping his cup to the deck pulled Blazer’s attention in time to watch Acknit dribble a mouthful of juice back into his own cup.

“You, sir?” Blazer asked.

“Yes, me. I know it comes as a surprise to you, but it appears to be the best course of action, for the good of all involved. Don’t expect any special favors,” he continued, fixing each of them with that deathly cold stare of his. “In point of fact, I will have to rely on your team leaders to take on many of the squadron’s cyclic affairs because of my instruction schedule. As your commander, I will expect more from all of you. By the time you graduate, I will have turned you into warriors worthy of the Telshin. Now, I have a lot to get to work on with the incoming cadets this semester, so you will excuse me for not staying longer.”

“I’m not sure what to say, sir,” Blazer stammered.

“Save the speech for later, Vaughnt. I want all of you get some rest and be ready for class next cycle.”

UCSB DATE: 1001.273

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Flight Instruction Room 514

Arion’s nose scrunched up as he resisted the urge to scratch at it for the umpteenth time since receiving his MiCOMM implant.  Not that it helps.

<Does it still itch?> Matt asked as they proceeded down the hallway?

“Like crazy, how long did yours?”

<About fifteen, twenty pulses.>

Arion looked back at Matt in his flightsuit and realized that he hadn’t said a word out loud. The MiCOMM link rang through so clear that he’d sworn he had. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the process even after Blazer had ordered the entire team to practice with them all the cycle before.

<We’re lucky that we’re Special Ops,> Matt continued, his lips still not moving.

<How’s that?> Arion asked, over the link.

<Our pilots have micomms too. Most don’t, they don’t need it. Just WSOs like us.>

Arion considered that. The micomm offered Weapons and Systems Officers (WSOs) like them a level of interface with their fighters that they could otherwise never achieve. <Do you believe those stories about how it allows you to become one with your fighter?>

Matt nodded. <I’ve discussed it with other WSOs, and yes, it does. Does that bother you?>

<I was raised Drigist, so of course it does, but I’m willing to give it a shot,> he replied and scratched at his nose.  <I wonder if Zithe’s having the same issue?>

Zithe rang in over the link, Arion’s micomm accidentally inviting him into the conversation because he’d mentioned his name. <It stopped right before bed. Have they ever tried Silver Tooth as a Self-Healer suppressant?>

Arion looked around. Zithe’s voice seemed too clear for him to be across the academy, but he was.  <They did, a long time ago, but it never worked.  According to the doc I’ve got two choices if this doesn’t take; come in for a second implantation, or risk a Kemtil infection.>  Arion shuddered at the thought of that and fingered a tiny lump on his chest. The deadly self-healer virus had come very near to killing him as a boy.

“We’ve arrived,” Matt announced out loud as they reached their classroom. <We’ll link in with you again later, Zithe.>

<Will do. We’ve got suppressors in my next class, so I won’t be able to link until I’m…>

“Effective,” Arion remarked and keyed the door open.

As soon as Arion stepped through the door, he saw why everyone had described it as an odd cross between a simulator bay and a standard classroom. Instead of rows of desks, it featured twenty-six fully functional WSO stations, enough for two squadrons.

He looked about the room.   Arion and Matt, along with Telsh, Gokhead, Nash, Ller, Bichard, Gadcon, Rudjick, Roilin, Dosher, and Acknit had tested into the WSO category.  While some still voiced concern that it was because their piloting skills did not rate high enough, he disagreed.  The WSOs from the Nip Tails, a new squadron made up mostly of Special Operations wash outs and pushing to fly the Splicer 3000, joined them.  I wonder if they intentionally paired us up after the battle last annura? We did the best we could to cover the Temblors in their three kays, we were just too inexperienced.

Arion noticed several of the others playing with their micomms as he headed to his seat, pushing about points in the air that only they could see.  The micomms gave them access to the academy’s intraweave and even the hyperweave beyond.  He shuddered at how they’d accepted the technology so readily.  Do none of them remember their history?  How hackers and luddites gained access to the old micomms and uploaded viruses that brought society to its knees? Or how about the time the Otlian Emperor Berhan used them to turn his populace into mindless drones?

It didn’t matter to him that modern micomms had greater limitations as a result, cutting off from all of the users’ motor functions.  They had access only to the sensory and communications centers with firewalls preventing malicious code from creeping in.  I’ll use mine for work only.

Arion sat down in the front row next to Gokhead, Matt in the row behind. All of them wore their flightsuits and carried their new special WSO helmets. These were different from the ones they’d worn the annura before, which their pilots still used. These contained special hardware for a deeper interface with their fighters through the micomm.

In the next seat, Gokhead used his micomm with practiced ease. Arion could only guess what he was doing—reading news, messaging colleagues parsecs away, maybe checking up on the syllabi for the rest of his classes.

Arion marveled at it. “You use that thing like you’ve had it forever.”

“I’ve had a micomm for five annura now.”

Arion gawked at that and his micomm brought up an article on Drashig use of micomms. Every time he had a stray thought, the micomm would give him a list of relevant stitches. It proved annoying. He’d already seen signs and notes in his syllabi in other classes that teachers would suppress his micomm in class.

He wished someone would suppress it now.  Realizing that he’d forgotten what the doctor had told him about shutting it off, much to his chagrin, the micomm came to his aid and displayed the default procedure to shut it off and on again.  He tapped his left temple and the display disappeared.  He sighed in relief.  “Why have you had a micomm all this time?”

Gokhead shrugged. “It made sense, given my chosen career path and the subjects I was taking in school. It made it that much easier to study for one class while in an easier one, where I’d already mastered the subject matter.”

Arion tapped the macomm in his shoulder pocket. “I get that, but I’m still more comfortable using the handheld.”

Gokhead nodded. “I was too, at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

I doubt that. I get why you guys like it, but this is a work-only tool for me. I’m not going to use it as a toy or rely on it for cyclic operations.

“Why are we in flightsuits for this?” Rudjick piped up as he adjusted his seat on the other side of Gokhead.

“Not sure,” Arion commented and looked back at Gokhead. For first time he noticed the design of the seat that the young Drashig sat in. Gokhead sat further forward in his seat than the rest of them, in a seat designed to let his thighs run under the backrest, so that his reverse-hinged knees could rest behind him. There, he grasped a pair of rudder handles with his thumbed feet. He’d had other classes with Gokhead in the past, but this was the first time that Arion had seen a seat custom-made for Drashigs. “Gok?”

“It’s to get us used to wearing them on a cyclic basis,” Gokhead replied, as he brought up another stitch on his micomm, Arion recognizing the motion. In an instant he realized what the nervous ticks he’d thought Gokhead had were actually micomm commands.

“Room, ‘ten Hut!” Gadcon called from the back of the room as a dark skinned Drashig strode through the door. Out of the corner of his eye, Arion noticed the gray brown color of the Drashig’s Marine Corps uniform.

Stopping at the podium at the front of the room, the instructor turned to face the class, looking over the room with a quiet intensity. “Seats!” Before the cadets could sit, he called out once again, “On your feet!”

The cadets jumped back to a position of attention.

“No, no, no, much too slow. Seats!”

The cadets plopped down in their seats without ceremony.

“On your feet!”

Once again, the cadets jumped from their seats to full attention.

“Still too slow! If you were that slow in combat,” he said walking towards Gokhead. “You would be dead. Grab your seats.”

Most of the cadets dropped back into their chairs, but a handful, Arion among them, after a moment’s hesitation, reached back and grabbed hold of their chairs.

“Any of you who are seated are dead. Failure to follow simple instructions,” he yelled at the seated cadets. “The instruction was to grab your seats, not sit in your seats. Now everyone sit down.”

Arion and the rest resumed their seats as their instructor returned to the podium.

“I am Officer Phelp OssGrim, Confed Marines. You may call me Grunt. I am your Weapon and Systems Officer training instructor. Now, why you are here?”

A quiet comment from one of the Nip Tails echoed up from the back of the room.

Grunt’s face twisted in subdued anger. “You there, cadet. What did you say?”

The cadet’s boots echoed through the silent room when he jumped to his feet. “I said it’s because we failed the pilot aptitude tests, Sir!”

Arion cringed, sure that the cadet wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

Grunt growled, fixing him with a cold stare. “What is your name?”

“Cadet Tendish Valcain.”

Grunt’s eyes flashed for a moment.  Arion recognized the movement—he was looking something up on his micomm.  Gokhead often made the same flash before coming up with an answer from thin air.  He looked at Gokhead and caught the subtle hint of a left-handed smile.  Cocky little bastard.

“Cadet Valcain, get out of my sight, and send Cadet Heric to me!” Grunt ordered.

“But sir…”

“I said out, Cadet!”

Valcain gathered up his bag and helmet and rushed out of the room.

“The reason you are here is because you are superior to your pilots. The tests you took assisted us in deciding crew configurations, and to find out that you all are the best candidates for WSO training. Understand this…”

Cadet Heric scrambled into the room, interrupting Grunt. Clad in his standard duty uniform, he stood out amongst the flightsuit-clad cadets. He issued a clumsy cross chest salute. “Cadet Heric reporting as per your order, Sir!”

“Take a seat, cadet. You’ve just been promoted to WSO.”

Heric took Valcain’s empty seat, shrugging his shoulders in confusion as he exchanged nervous glances with his squadmates.

“Understand this.  Your pilot is a chauffeur.  You are in charge of that fighter. Pilots fly fighters, and WSOs fly pilots. The fighter is yours.

“Compared to your pilots, you are better able to take in, assimilate, process, and relay data. From your station, you control your craft’s systems, monitor all incoming communications traffic and sensor data, and can even override a pilot’s controls if necessary. According to our tests, the best WSO in this room is most likely Cadet Acknit. Cadet wake up!”

Acknit went rigid in his chair, eyes wide. “Sir! I wasn’t sleeping. I was only resting my eyes.”

Grunt stared at Acknit with a careful eye and then at the rest of them, clearly noting shocked reactions among the other cadets. “Does this news come as a surprise to the rest of you? Just because Cadet Acknit is tired this cycle doesn’t mean he’s some kind of slacker.”

“Actually sir,” Rudjick piped up from beside Arion. “This is his usual activity level. I’ve worked with him for an annura now, and I greatly respect him, but he earned the handle ‘Sloth’ for a reason.”

Grunt fixed the smaller elf in a fierce gaze. “And what might that reason be?”

Acknit stretched in his chair with a fierce yawn. “I’m a little slow on the uptake. But I do tend to get work done quickly, ‘cause otherwise it cuts into my nap time.”

Grunt stood dumbfounded for a moment, reviewing something through his micomm.

Acknit’s performance chart, maybe?

“The tests showed that you have an almost genius level IQ and your ability to manage onboard systems is almost uncanny. Your speed at relaying data and handling power management was in the top five percentile.”

“Like I said, Sir, I finish stuff quick because it cuts into my nap time.”

“Just how much do you sleep?”

“He doesn’t, Sir.” Gokhead responded on Acknit’s behalf. “He enters a pseudo-sleep state. To all outward appearances, he seems to be sleeping, almost comatose at times. In reality, his conscious mind is wide-awake and taking in everything. He tends to spend most of his cycles like that, just storing up energy. And, when he releases that energy he’s the exact opposite.”

“Explain,” Grunt ordered.

“Have you ever seen the levels of energy released by a cracked Photo Energizer Crystal that’s been fully charged?” Roilin asked from the Explosions’ row.

Grunt nodded in response, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s him.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Acknit yawned.

“Plus, he tends to downplay his abilities,” Arion added.

“Hey, I have an image to maintain,” Acknit said, kicking the back of Arion’s chair.

“Of course, there is one thing you can say that wakes him up faster than anything,” Gokhead commented, and in a voice just louder than a whisper he said, “Slamball.”

“Slamball!” Acknit replied, his eyes shooting open as he jerked up in his seat and came wide-awake. “Hey, no fair!” He stared at Gokhead, while the other cadets laughed.

“Interesting, but let’s get down to business,” Grunt announced, activating the wall-mounted holo-projector. The 3-D image of a WSO at his station coalesced beside the podium.

Arion had to suppress a grin as Acknit started to play with his fingers in an effort to drop down from his Slamball readiness state.

“This is the standard WSO station for all hominid races within the UCSB. Variations of it are aboard all multi-seat combat craft in active Confed service. The WSO station operates at five levels.”

A new hologram activated beside the first, showing a list of the five levels.

“Level One is basic. It’s the screens in front of you that display ship systems and sensor data. Level Two adds the standard holographic surrounding sensor display, much like what your pilots use, but with more sensor data. Most WSOs only use levels One and Two as backups, should Levels Three through Five become unavailable. Level Three is a virtual reality system that projects inside your helmet. It was an interim design, made available before the widespread disposition of micomms and before Level Four’s full development. Some WSOs and races still prefer it. Level Four is the direct neuroinput system that uses your micomm. It presents you a full omni-directional sensor picture and instant accessibility to all ship systems.”

Grunt paused for a moment to allow the cadets to assimilate the information.

Arion considered the implications.  It’ll be almost godlike in a way to see everything the way he describes.  He traded a glance with Rudjick, the elf’s eyes wide with fear.  He’d never seen Rudjick nervous before.  Is it the sheer amount of data, or the responsibility? I’ll ask him later.

“Level Four never proved entirely stable, or reliable, prior to micomms.  Now, however, it has been surpassed by the Level Five interface.  You will, of course, notice that your helmets are different from the standard pilot’s helmet.”

Arion fingered the nodules on the back of the helmet in his lap and looked down at the twin sensor and eye tracking trails that sat above where his eyes would be. Similar eye-tracking tech was in a pilot’s helmet, but these were more precise and worked better with the micomm. On the whole, it made the helmet only a little bulkier than a pilot’s helmet, but also far more powerful.

“Don’t worry, Cadet Heric, we will get you a proper brain bucket before lights out.  The helmets are a cross between standard flight helmets and the helmets used in the direct neuro-simulation bays that any of you who had Special Ops training should already be accustomed to.”

Arion and the others nodded.  Thank God the faceplate isn’t opaque like those.

“Level Five is beyond anything you’ve ever experienced, and it’s the primary reason for the intense screening and tests. Level Five is full immersion. You, in essence, become one with the fighter. Doing so requires concentrated training to learn how to control all the systems, to the point that it’s second nature.”

“But sir, isn’t that dangerous? How do you tell where the craft stops and you begin?” Arion asked, trepidation in his voice.

“When you’re in Level Five, there is no border. You are the fighter. Early users of the system became addicted to the interface. Some would end up carrying around portable devices to emulate the effect through their micomms. Individuals whose psychological profile indicates that they will have withdrawal problems from the systems are eliminated. The system is safe, though, and there is an automatic cut-off in case of ejection. While using levels Three through Five you are said to be under the ‘Shroud.’ This comes from early pilot requests to their WSO using the system to cover themselves while using it because pilots found their odd movements while using the system disturbing.”

“Does it really look that odd, Sir?” Ller asked.

“In level Three and Four, it looks like someone playing with their micomm. In level Five, you don’t move much at all, but some pilots find that even more disturbing. We’ll progress slowly at first. You’ll learn to operate at every level. You may operate at Level Four or Five most of the time, but you must also know how to use the lower levels in case of equipment failure that denies you those levels. Now, let’s get started. Activate the lesson one tutorial at your stations.”

UCSB DATE: 1001.284

Kafore System, Kafore-3 Ring System, Dropshop A-13-32

The tactical hologram told Trevis everything he needed to know.  The intercepts he’d received from the passive scanner pods they’d deployed on arrival painted a beautiful picture of their trap.  He checked the position of their sleek Ferine Dropship.  Perched on the back of this chunk of ice, they were all but invisible in the jamming environment generated by the ringed gas giant Kafore-3.  Their waste heat could give them away, but their Zero Kinetic Energy Potentials (Z-KEP) packs were handling that for now.  A meter on his display showed a fluctuation in the local gravity field which made him perk up.  A moment later their quarry, the GFS Cunningham, a Mitchell Class light carrier, reverted to normal drive only a few thousand metra away.

Trevis checked their position again. The chunk of ice they clung to eclipsed them from the carrier as it sailed above the rings. A moment later fighters launched from the open front maw of the carrier’s full-length flight-deck. Phantom 4s and Tiger Cats raced away from their mothership. None of them faltered in their courses before they left sensor range and Trevis deactivated the hologram.

“We have the target in sight. Are you sure this is how you want to do this?” the dropship’s pilot asked through the intercom.

Trevis slammed his fist into the intercom panel in response. He’d long grown tired of the pilot’s repeatedly questioning their plan. “It be our best chance for success.”

“Copy that. Hold on tight, it’s about to get bumpy.”

“Understanding,” Trevis replied, turning to his team. “WSOs, be jacking in now.”

There was nothing for Trevis to do but watch and wait as the Explosions’ WSOs each linked their flight helmets to one of a pack of SEAW-304-LL shark light torpedoes in the outrigger pods.

G-forces slammed Trevis into his restraints when the pilot brought the dropship back to life. It twisted around him, engines roaring through the bay, and raced towards the carrier. Before him, a hologram tactical display sprang to life. Coherent light and plasma from the carrier seared their shields as the pilot brought them in on an attack run.

Hating this.  He could do nothing until the dropship had emulated its bomber heritage.

Telsh held up a hand beside Trevis and began to count down on her fingers. Trevis turned to the hologram and watched a series of torpedoes stream from the outrigger pods. Trevis studied the hologram with the intensity of a general as the two lead torpedoes dove into the interference zone where the carrier’s dual ElectroMagnetic Toroid shields met. The torpedoes dove into the seemingly empty volume of space and exploded, disrupting the ion screen and blinding the sensors guiding the carrier’s graviton shields.

Twin spheres of light highlighted the temporary shield breach that the school of shark torpedoes dove through an instant later. Trevis’s sharp breath whistled as the last torpedo got in just before the ion screen closed up. Torpedoes three and four drove themselves into the rear shield emitters. They flattened against the arrays, the photon detonator crystals shattered, and fifty-metra diameter energy spheres atomized the matter within.

Trevis smiled as the next pair of torpedoes separated to destroy the upper rear main turret and the mid-ships communication array. The final two torpedoes streaked down the inside of the interior bay and detonated between the launch rails, snapping them.

“Door’s open, hold on,” the pilot hooted, and the bomber raced towards the rear of the carrier.

Just what I be needing to hear.  Trevis slapped at his harness release, blood pumping with anticipation, and jumped to his feet.  Telsh followed him a moment later and he handed her the helmet to her ACHES while she removed her WSO helmet.  She will make a fine mother to our brood to come.

Telsh seemed to catch the look on his face and kicked at his boots in an attempt to disrupt the magnetic latch. “Be getting your head in the mission, Trevis.”

“Aye,” he replied and slid his way across the deck to the vehicle hatch. His mind back on the mission, he grabbed onto a tiedown in the deck and waited. A moment later the force of the dropship slamming into the flight deck of the carrier echoed up his legs. He grimaced at the feeling as the landing screamed through the superstructure like a Tomeris lion.

The ramp lowered, the walls of the flight-deck a blur as sparks cascaded from their landing gear. Smiling, he bounded out of the bay and led his four man bridge team behind the cover of the spherical landing gear before the dropship ground to a halt.

He took a quick scan of the bay. Deck hands raced towards them. He’d expected more of a stupor after their grand entrance, but shrugged it off. These men stood no chance against them, not equipped with only sidearms and plasma torches. “This deck be ours, clean these pests out!” Trevis ordered.

Weapons fire rang out in response. Precise shots from the Explosions tore through the unarmored deck hands. The survivors of the initial onslaught turned and ran for protective revetments and airlocks.

This be a slaughter, Trevis mused.  Still, better to stop them here and not be letting them regroup.

He brought up his rifle towards another deckhand, the remnants of the destroyed launch rails beginning to fall like metallic snow against the deck with little tinks. He chuckled as a shot rang out, and the deckhand flopped towards the deck, his left leg no longer attached. Only a handful of metra from safety, the man crashed to the deck where his plaser discharged into a rack of anti-fighter missiles along the wall.

Trevis twisted around for cover before one of the missiles detonated, igniting a firestorm that cooked off the remaining weapons.  Screams echoed back at them as more of the deck crew found themselves engulfed in the series of blasts.  Trevis looked back and grinned as one of the missiles launched off the rack, catching a security forces soldier square in the chest as it rocketed out of the launch bay.

Trevis waved his hand twice around his head and bounded out from his position. The rest of his squad followed the order and, with the precision he’d drilled into them time and again, established a defensive perimeter around the dropship. From the corner of his eye Trevis caught two crewmen running from the inferno, their suits afire. Before he could bring his weapon to bear, two shots rang out from Telsh, and both men fell.

Trevis nodded.  Mercy kills.

He scanned the deck again.  Where be Security Forces?  He flashed a quick glance to Telsh and she nodded.  No fool be I, they be laying a trap.  Trevis rolled out of the formation and flashed another hand signal to the pilot of the dropship.  “They be onto us, need to be moving quicker than planned.  Deploy defensive drones. We need to be moving.”

“Copy that. Drones are rolling.”

The doors to the outrigger pods opened and Trevis watched two dozen automated turrets scurry out to join the Explosions. The simple Synthetic Intelligence robots were little more than automatons with IFF receivers and visual recognition systems. Controlled by the dropship, they would maintain a defensive perimeter around it as the Explosions proceeded with their mission.

Trevis turned to the others after patting one of the robotic walking gun platforms. “Explosions, be moving out.”

They all nodded and separated. Trevis released his magnetic clamps and jumped for the ceiling, with Telsh, Porc and Nash following him.

Below them Ller led his team of Kink, Dibtel and Gadcon towards the open elevator to the lower hangar bay, cutting the distance to the engineering bay below them. Meanwhile Lindil bounded towards the stairs to flight control, Roilin, Ribtin and Dosher following her, canisters of knockout gas on their backs as they prepared to take the environmental control center.

Trevis fired the boost jets in the calves of his ACHES as he approached the overhead fighter racks.  Three lines of Solaar Interceptors, Phantoms and Tigercats awaited them like sleeping bats. The sound of plaser fire drew his attention back as the environmental team stormed flight control. The shooting ended almost before it had begun, and the environmental team disappeared from view. Trevis’ tactical display fed him their telemetry of a now empty room as they proceeded inside.

Nearing the overhead fighters, he turned back to them. He fired his jets one last time to counter the weak gravity and grabbed hold of the port heavy-mass-driver cannon slung beneath a Solaar Interceptor in its docking claw. He turned and watched as the rest of his team followed suit, most landing on the same craft as he did. Porc was one fighter back. Trevis signaled the others, and they clambered over the ovoid wing into the space above the fighter.

He hadn’t expected the space between the fighter and the ceiling to be so small, but then few things were built with Tomeris in mind, even on Confed ships.  He signaled Nash towards the lead fighter in the line and proceeded aft.  Looking over his shoulder, he nodded approval as Nash finished affixing a breach charge to one of the maintenance hatches into the space above them.  He be quick, I be giving him that.  As Trevis turned back, Nash crawled onto the next maintenance hatch, readying to attach another charge.

Itching to get moving, Trevis waited with the others for Nash to finish his line of breaching charges. He glanced at Telsh beside him—the lock breaker in her hand making quick work of the hatch’s electronic lock. He shot her a hard look when the device beeped back at her and the lock disengaged with an audible click. She just shrugged before Nash launched himself amongst the trio, setting his last charge two fighters forward of their position.

Trevis shook his head and slid in below the hatch. Setting himself for the assault he checked his visual filters and signaled Nash over the link. Blue Light.

The ten iris hatches ahead of them exploded into the maintenance bay above.  Trevis tensed as the sound of running feat echoed from the ceiling above.  Then the clap of plaser fire screamed out of the damaged hatches, men screaming and calling out. Trevis shook his head and keyed open the hatch above them.

He almost pitied the collection of technicians and pilots that greeted his view as he bound up through the hatch. This was not the time for that, however, and he opened fire into the amassed crewmen. Plaser fire ripped through the smoke-engulfed bay, Trevis and his team able to see through it with ease. The Geffers were not so lucky and moments later, nothing was left alive but the four of them.

GFS Cunningham, Flight Control Bay

Ribtin ran point ahead of the enviro-team as they rushed out of flight control. Weapon all but grafted to his hand, the Tomeris warrior bounded into the corridor, Dosher on his heels. Facing opposite each other, they dove into the low gravity corridor and surveyed the scene, their feet touching. Still not used to the micomm link, Ribtin tapped his partner’s foot to signal the all clear, then waved Lindil and Roilin into the corridor. The four of them kneeled side by side, watching each direction.

Curious as to why they had met no resistance after the firefight in the flight control bay, Ribtin checked their position on his map before Roilin signaled how to proceed. Ribtin wasted no time, grabbed hold of a waist-level handgrip on the wall, and gave it a squeeze. He lifted his feet out of the weak gravity field, the bar dragging him along while the others followed suit. Ribtin hated to admit it, but he liked how Galactic Federation’s gravity spinners lost gravitational potential so fast. It allowed even his bulk to remain buoyant in most passageways—a buoyancy the Explosions used to their advantage.

The handles slowed as they approached a cross passageway and Ribtin released his to roll to the deck.  The higher gravity at the floor slowed him down, and he came to a halt at the corner of a cross passage.   With Dosher beside him, he rolled across the intersection.  No weapons fire greeted them and the cross passage was just as empty as the main passage they’d traversed.  Ribtin’s blood went cool as he waved Lindil and Roilin across.  Where be they?

They gathered back to back on the opposite side, each pointing their weapon down a separate corridor as they planned how to proceed.  Even a ship this size should have more crew aboard than they had thus far encountered.  The lack of contact could mean only one thing. They be digging in.

<I be seeing none since we be taking flight control,> Lindil commented over the secure micomm link.  <Anyone else be thinking traps?>

Ribtin nodded, <Aye. I be thinking they know where we be heading. They sure to be having fortifications in place too.>

<Be there another route to environmental control?> Lindil asked, kicking Roilin in the foot.

Roilin remained silent for a moment then shook his head. <Nay, the air ducts be too small and likely trapped, so it be the main entrance or nothing. Unless…> he paused again.

Ribtin kicked his partner to get an answer out of him.  How long it be taking to read a map?

<If you be up for a swim, we can be going up a level and blowing our way in through the weaker armor of the purification tank.>

Ribtin checked the map himself.  Sure enough, the purification tank ran floor to ceiling in the environmental control bay, with a sealed maintenance hatch fitted into it the deck above. 

<Be it pre- or post-purification?> Lindil asked.

<Pre,> Roilin answered.

<I don’t be seeing as we having another choice,> Lindil remarked.  <Roilin be taking point and be sealing your suits, people.>

GFS Cunningham, Fighter Spares Bay

Jumping with a speed and power that even an augmented professional athlete would envy, Ller vaulted over the shattered shelf full of spare parts he had taken cover behind.  The muscle fibers in his ACHES assisting him, he dove towards the low wall where Kink and Dibtel crouched.  Plaser fire erupted from the alcove ahead of them, the GF security team doing their best to slow the engineering team’s advance.

Ller joined the other two and all three popped up to lay down covering fire for Gadcon. Heavy repeating plaser chattering away, the biggest member of the team ran to catch up with them. A lucky plaser round splashed against his armored shin, shattering the armor and he skidded to the deck in response. His momentum carried him near the others and Ller dragged him the rest of the way. He took just a moment to look at Gadcon’s shin, the bodyglove beneath was singed, but intact.

“I not be having fun anymore,” Gadcon called out over the rain of plaser fire as he examined the shattered reinforced ceramic armor. He sneered at the damage, pulled out a patch from one his pockets and slapped it over the breach. It wouldn’t protect him from another hit but it would reseal his suit.

“Grenade?” Dibtel asked, fingering one of the weapons on his chest.

Ller took a quick look over the wall at the mess of fallen shelves and equipment between them and the security team, before a mass driver round forced him back down. “If you think you can get one through that mess, be my guest. Just don’t waste it.”

“I ne’er ever do,” Dibtel replied and slapped one of the grenades onto a launcher on the back of his left arm. After tapping his helmet, he moved his arm about, searching for launch solution. He shook his head and motioned to the others. “Be covering me.”

They nodded and took their positions. Ller held up raised three fingers. He counted them down and, as his hand formed back into a fist, the four of them bounded to their feet. Ller and the others laid down covering fire as Dibtel jumped and fired through a gap in the mass of cover. They dropped back to the deck a centipulse later and listened for the grenade.

The blast reverberated through the chamber, moans and cries of pain following it.

Ller wasted no more time and raced towards the exit to the bay.  Even knowing what to expect, the scene turned his stomach. Three of the security forces troops lay dead at his feet. Thrown back by the blast, their skin seared away by the plasma charge, they were the lucky ones. Ller turned towards the survivor as he crawled away with only one hand, his legs gone.

Before Ller could even consider what to do, Gadcon heaved up and fired two rounds into the back of the man’s head.

Ller considered reprimanding Gadcon, since the man was no threat, but the mission came first. He waved the others towards the door. “It’s not far now, but we lost too much time in here. Kink on point.”

Kink nodded and took to the corridor, the rest following him, covering every angle as they proceeded down passageways to the main engineering bay. Ller didn’t bother to telling them to stop or slow down at the cross corridors. Guided by the maps in his visor, he instead had them lay down suppressive fire at each one as they rushed through. The sheer volume of fire took down anyone unlucky enough to face them before they’d got to the final corridor into main engineering.

As they approached, Kink held up a hand and slid forward. Using a flexible fiber cam on the barrel of his rifle, he peeked around the corner. An instant later, he plastered himself against the wall and scurried back to Ller and the rest.

Ller waited with a patience that was not his own, as Kink edged back towards them. “What did you see?” he asked once Kink had drawn near.

“Geffers, a whole mess of ‘em too. They’ve got a barrier wall up with at least three heavy repeating plasers guarding it. They’re ready for us, any suggestions?”

“Grenade?” Dibtel asked.

Ller reviewed the camera images and shook his head. “It might put a dent in that wall, but we can’t repel that firepower long enough for you to get a clean deflection shot behind it. Not with what we’re carrying anyway.”

“How about a missile?” Gadcon asked?

“You’re beginning to sound like Dib,” Ller replied. “And where are we going to find a missile?”

“The weapons bay be right next to the upper weapons magazine. All I need be doing is rig a single unguided rocket and send it down the corridor. I bet it be blowing that wall of theirs, and them, to bits,” Dibtel explained.

“It’s risky. If you miss, you can hit the reactor core. That door is open,” Ller explained. Their team was all about precision, and one bad shot in an engineering bay could spell disaster.

“I don’t see as we have much choice,” Kink remarked.  “The heavy gunners had environ suits on.  Even when Lindil’s team is done we’ll still have to contend with them.”

Ller grimaced.  Damn, but they’re right.  “All right, let’s head back and get us a rocket, but we have to move quickly,” Ller ordered, waving Kink to the point position.

GFS Cunningham, Main Security Station

Trevis hated waiting. He had planned everything and had timed their assault to perfection. Now his own team were forcing him to delay. Two doors away from his objective, the acrid smell of plasma-seared flesh and plastic threatened to choke him if he opened his suit vents again. Beside the door with Telsh, he surveyed the room. Dead security officers littered the floor as Porc manipulated the fiber cam he had secreted through the hatch into the next chamber. More soldiers waited for them behind a barricade, and beyond, at the hatchway onto the bridge.

<All teams, report, bridge team be in position,> he thought-sent over the micomm link.

Ller’s annoyed voice echoed back. <Engineering team is standing by.>

Silence followed for several moments before Trevis thought-sent again. <Environ team, what be your status?>

“We’re nearly in position,” Lindil’s voice came back. “We had to clear a blockage.”

<You be meaning a barricade?>

“No, a blockage, don’t ask, we’ll be set in another… six pulses.”

<We not be having time for that,> Telsh bit back.  <By now the fighters on patrol be knowing something be wrong.  They already be missing their first check in. We need to be going now!>

<We’re in position, just give us a couple pulses to…>

Trevis knew that impatience killed, but so did those fighters racing back to their silent mothership. <No, she be right, we move now. All teams, on my mark.> Trevis flashed a couple quick hand signals to his team and they took up positions around the door.  <Mark!>

The door out of the security office exploded outwards a moment later. It rocketed down the passageway behind a geyser of smoke, and Porc lunged after it.

His heavy repeating plaser gouged tunnels through the smoke as he rushed the barricade. Nash followed, lobbing a quartet of grenades ahead of Porc before Trevis and Telsh joined them. Laying down covering fire, the two Tomeris breeding partners raced for the cover of a door alcove.

The grenades exploded a moment later, tearing apart the front of the barricade and the deck plating ahead of it. The plaser fire paused for a moment as defenders fell back for cover.

That pause was all the Explosions needed. Covered by Trevis and Telsh, Porc and Nash rushed the barricade. Porc led the way, blasting the heavy weapons mounts as he made a suicidal run towards the barricade. Trevis couldn’t believe his eyes as the younger Nerzain vaulted over the barrier, Nash only a few steps behind him. For a moment only the sound of smaller sidearms met Trevis’ ears, then a single bolt parted the smoke and impacted the ceiling.

Trevis exchanged a quick look with Telsh then bounded ahead. Had the pair gotten themselves killed or captured? The sight that greeted him when he reached the barrier made him hold fast, Porc and Nash had ditched their weapons and were slicing at the GF troops with their natural blade claws like wild beasts. Trevis held fast to watch the slaughter.

Red human blood splashed against Trevis’ visor as one of Porc’s elbow blades cleaved the arm from a Geffer’s shoulder.  And a moment later it was over, the pair huffing from exertion, Trevis swearing that he could see a smile on the composite faceplate of Porc’s helmet.

When Trevis made his way around the barrier a moment later, not even a moan escaped the lips of the beings on the floor. He motioned to the hatch with his rifle, tapping Porc’s heavy repeating plaser with his foot. Before he could say another word, a violent shudder rattled through the deck plates.

GFS Cunningham, Environmental Control

“What be that explosion?” Trevis asked over the link.

Damn, he be pissed if he be actually speaking instead of thought sending, Lindil realized.

<Just a little something we had to improvise,> Ller replied over the micomm.

Lindil shot a look to Ribtin as he finished affixing the breaching charge to the inside of the sewage tank’s maintenance hatch. “This be taking longer than we be thinking!”

“I be working as fast as I can!” Ribtin snapped and pushed away towards the others. “I be done,” he called out and swam back to the others before activating his maglocks and dropping to the floor with the rest of them. “Ready,” he called, his rifle now at the ready like the rest.

Lindil didn’t bother waiting and keyed the charge.

The pressure wave slammed into Lindil, her ears popping, but to its credit, the suit kept it from crushing her. A moment later she felt the water flowing away from her and looked up and out into the environmental control bay, where much of the effluent tank’s wall had been blown away. Through the mire her IR camera showed the crew outside flailing against the torrent, the still hot wall chunk embedded in the doors opposite the tank.

Lindil didn’t bother to wait and released the maglocks in her boots, allowing the flow to take her out of the tank before she reengaged them. With a solid double thump she landed on the deck beside the ruined tank. She took a quick look. The crew did their best to get back to their feet and to their weapons, but she didn’t have time to waste. “Roilin!”

“On it, boss lady,” Roilin replied and tossed a stun grenade into the mire.

Lightening arced through the water, surging into the Geffers. Lindil couldn’t help but smile as she looked at the Geffers flop about in response, a meter in her helmet showing just how much charge the suit could take before she too would be overcome.

Now was not the time to celebrate, however, and she ran for the main atmospheric control console. The water had dropped below the level of the controls but she still had to wipe away at the panel to access it as the rest of her team patched their canisters of knock out gas into the system. A thumbs-up from each of her teammates soon followed and Lindil opened the taps, forcing the gas into the ship’s atmosphere. <All units, Environ Team, Nap Time be on the way,> Lindil announced.

GFS Cunningham, Main Engineering

“About time,” Ller growled when Lindil’s report came over the link. Had she been quicker, the news might have been welcome. Instead, she stood plastered against a cross passage hoping that the Geffer’s heavy gun wouldn’t chew through the wall behind him. His team’s gamble with the rocket hadn’t paid off. The kinetic kill weapon didn’t have a chance to reach full speed before it had hit the barrier. As a result it gave them only a moment’s breathing space to reach this holdout. If he wanted to take Main Engineering without casualties to his team, he needed that knockout gas.

A light blinked in Ller’s HUD, and his suit sealed around him.  He breathed a tentative sigh of relief as the volume of fire coming their way slowed and then stopped.  This is our chance. <Move it now, who knows if any of them had time to suit up.>

Ller led his team around the corner towards main engineering, stepping over the defensive team that had held them so long slumped on the floor. He almost felt sorry for them, but the moment before he reached the hatchway, the sound he feared most echoed back at him.

“God’s be telling me that be not what I be thinking?” Dibtil asked.

Ller entered the bay to find the smoking remains of the hyperspace navigational computer staring back at him.  He wanted to curse so bad that it hurt, but a movement caught his eye and a technician in an environment suit ran towards the power core, a second scuttling charge in his hand.  I think not.  Ller fired two rounds at the man, drilling one through the man’s helmet.

“Fragging Geffers,” Gadcon roared and slammed his fist into the bulkhead beside the door, the metal warping around his hand.

Ller couldn’t allow himself to get so emotional, and shooting Gadcon a hard look ran up to the remains of the computer. <Lead, Engineering, we have control here, but there’s a problem.>

<Bridge be secured as well,> Trevis reported a moment later, the sound of a plaser pistol firing accompanying his report.  <What be the matter?>

<Bastards scuttled the nav computer,” Ller reported, pointing his team towards their stations.

<Can we be slipstreaming to the jump point at least?> Trevis asked.

<Standby,> Ller replied and shot a look at Dibtel as he pushed the slipstream technician off his console.

Dibtel flashed a quick thumbs-up.

At least there’s that.  <Yes, Sir. We have slipstream, but no jump codes. We should be able to rig something up through the dropship to get us to a safe system at least.>

<Bridge team be copying. All stations be securing your prisoners, environ be finding us a nice hole to stow them in.>

<There be a slight delay,> Lindil reported back.  <The doors be jammed, we be having to cut or blast our way out first.>

<Be making it quick,> Trevis snapped back.  <Ller, be getting us into slipstream. The first patrol be on long-range sensors now, be dropping back in less ‘an five pulses>”

<Slipstream in one pulse,> Dibtel reported.

Ller looked up at the drive, the hyperspace bubble throbbed and forced dark energy to coalesce around the ship. A pulse later the ship’s relative mass dropped to less than a single one of their team before the engines fired and the ship streaked away towards the jump point. Ller smiled. The smaller fighters would never be able to catch them in slipstream. Now, all he had to do was to get his team to patch the dropship’s nav computer into that of their prize.

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

Ller snatched off his helmet and jumped back to his feet. The motion threatened to topple him, but to his credit he remained standing. “What in Falsing’s Last Turd took you so long? We lost the hyperspace nav computer because of your delay. That thing could have had jump codes to a major Geffer world in its memory, maybe even Phar’s, or Earth’s.”

Lindil took her time in replying. Even Ller could tell that she was having trouble regaining her balance. “It be unavoidable. They be having a trap for us outside the main doors, so we be having to divert. Croy! They be having a plaser cannon off a fighter down there that be giving Arion’s Big Red cannon envy.”

Trevis stomped over.  The last thing he needed now was his own team tearing each other apart.  “What be your divert then?” Trevis asked, laying a hand on Lindil’s shoulder.  He squeezed it just enough to show that he too was annoyed by the delay.

“We be entering through the upper hatch of the main storage tank. Ribtin’s suit be springing a leak in the process.”

“Be trusting me on this, it not be how I wanted it to go,” Ribtin commented with a shiver.

“Destress your jets,” Porc commented and unzipped a hidden pocket on his shin. “We accomplished the primary mission and took the ship. That’s what’s most important.”

The team nodded and even Trevis had to admit that Porc was right.

“And, since it was a victory, I get one of these babies,” Porc continued and pulled out one of his shin length, finger width, hand rolled cigars from his homeworld before sticking it between his teeth.

Trevis took a step away and even the other Nerzain on the squad stepped back as Porc fished around in his suit for his lighter.  Trevis hated the noxious odor of the leaf.  Even Kink and Ller said that the stink reminded them too much of their coming of age hunts.  A reminder of the monstrous Nair Rats was something no sane Nerzain cared for.  Be that man’s psych profile even close to legal?

As Porc found the lighter, a voice boomed through the room from the door to the control center and Tadeh Qudas strode in. “Cadet Porc, if you light that thing in my bay I will shove it so far up your rectum that you’ll still be able to smoke it. Do I make myself clear?”

Porc swallowed hard and nodded, chewing on the end of the cigar instead.

“Now everyone, listen up,” Tadeh Qudas ordered as he came to stand amongst them

The squad fell into a semi-circle around their leader and instructor.

“First, congratulations on the capture of the GFS Cunningham.”

Trevis looked back at his team and smiled.

“But once again, you screwed up. Your orders were to bring the ship back intact. Instead, you destroyed, or through inaction, allowed to be destroyed, the communications array, the top rear turret, the primary rear shield array, the fighter launch rails, the sewage containment vat, the hyperspace navigation computer, twenty three hatches around the ship, blasted a hole in the flight-deck, and nearly burnt out the slipstream drive.”

Porc counted up the tally on his fingers as Tadeh Qudas spoke. “Hey, damage happens.”

Tadeh Qudas spun on the smaller, rodent-faced alien faster than Trevis could imagine. The rest of the squad took a step away. “Not to that extent!” he roared. “When you take a ship like that, part of the reason is to gather intel. There is no way to study any of those systems you destroyed.”

Trevis stepped forward. He was in command of the mission, and while even he didn’t care for Porc’s attitude, he wouldn’t allow Tadeh Qudas to tear his team down without good reason. “Sir, respectfully, we be having three objectives by our accounting.” He held up his hand and began to count off. “One: ‘Staying Alive’, if things be going bad I be having no problem ordering a full retreat. I not be losing people for no reason. Two: ‘Capturing the Ship’, which we be doing. And Three: ‘Be Minimizing Damage’. I be feeling that the damage we be doing be justified in the doing of our first two objectives.”

“Wait, I thought minimize damage was like number five on the list, behind ‘Looking Good Doing It’ and ‘Humiliating the Geffer Crew’.”

“Zip it, Porc!” Trevis hollered and sent the smaller Nerzain stumbling backwards.

“Still, it goes without saying that your reckless disregard for advanced systems needs to stop,” Tadeh Qudas replied. “This is something you need to work towards. And if damage can be avoided, avoid it. Lindil, you should have indicated your delay sooner. Trevis, Ller, your two sections will always take priority. If the environmental team is held up, you need to press to take the bridge and engineering bays. Ller, had you done so, you might have saved the nav computer. That was by far your most serious loss. Now, all of you get cleaned up and meet me in the debriefing room in twenty pulses for full debrief.”

UCSBA-13, Mendrick’s Bar and Grill

Marda recognized the look on the Explosion’s faces when they stumbled into Mendrick’s.  They’d been in the Neurosimulation bay long enough to get dehydrated.  Bet Tadeh Qudas didn’t even let them get water during the debrief, either, same as our last op.

Gavit leaned back in his seat, a hologram of a twin engined, forward swept wing Splicer 5000 hovering in front of him, their new craft. “Do my eyes deceive me, or could those be the Explosions?”

Matt looked back at the team, a half smile on his face. “Why yes, I do believe you might be right. Though it’s been a long while since I set eyes upon them,” he replied with a laugh.

Telsh shook her head as she approached. “We only be gone two cycles.” She stole Gavit’s drink and took a long draw of the sweet alcoholic nectar. “You be gone longer on your last mission.”

Marda guided Trevis towards an empty chair beside her and Blazer. She didn’t even attempt to hide her smile at the aghast look on Gavit’s face as Telsh drained his whole mug in one go. “How did it go?”

“Rough. They really be ramping up the defenses on us. Plus we be getting another reprimand for the amount of damage we be doing,” Trevis replied, before he grabbed one of the passing waitresses. His massive hand engulfed the girl’s arm. “Miss, please to be bringing a round for my team, Coretherian Honey Mead, and be putting it on me tab,” he asked before releasing her. She hurried off to the bar. “Tadeh Qudas be feeling that we be too liberal with the explosives.”

Blazer shrugged from beside Marda.  It was a common complaint against their sister team.   “Well, you are the Explosions, doesn’t he know that?  Did you make the objective and come back in one piece?  Our last run we lost half the prisoners we were sent to retrieve, plus Arion, Matt and Bichard.”

Arion shook his head. “Damned land mine, it tore the blasted AT-APT to bits.”

“We’ll fill you in on the gory details later,” Porc replied and pulled out his lighter and a fresh cigar.

Marda smiled as everyone stared at Porc in disapproval while he stuck the noxious wound up weed in his mouth. She hated the smell like the rest, but she understood how important the ritual was to him.

“What?” Porc pointed at the air filter intake vent above his head. “You won’t smell it hardly at all. So leave me my one vice, okay?” he asked, taking a long drag off it. “Oh, good stuff.”

Marda elbowed Trevis, drawing him in close. “We still can’t figure out where he hides those things. We must have searched his quarters three times.”

“Thanks, but me thinks he be keeping them on his person. It be explaining his smell,” he replied.

“Well, nobody’s going to search that now, are they?”

UCSB DATE: 1001.291

Anul System, Planet Anul, Capben, Club Soren

Jell bounced into the bar of Club Soren, waving to several employees before she leapt onto one of the cushioned stools. It felt odd seeing the place all lit up, with music turned down low as workers readied it for opening in a few hects.

Derjin came out from the stockroom and winked at her. He hadn’t slipped into his normal work clothes yet. “Hey, babe,” he said and set down his tray before leaning over the bar to give her a quick peck on the lips.

Jell sat back as far as she could and crossed her arms. “Hey.”

“You want anything to drink?”

“Just a soda for now.”

“What’s up?” he asked, pulling out a cup and filling it.

“Why don’t you guys just install an autocook or a nano-assembler to do all that?  Why go through the hassle of making it all?”

Derjin shook his head. “But where would be the show, the spectacle?”

Jell knew that answer was coming and rolled her eyes. “Please, it would make your job so much easier. Sheol, just let people order from a console or their macomm like other clubs. Then you just have to deliver the drink, not mix it up.”

“Then I would just be a waiter. I make the tips I do by putting on a show and adding that little something. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.”

“That’s not the way I live,” Jell replied with a coy smile.

Derjin smiled back at her. “In that case, I could just pull you across this bar and have my way with you. That doesn’t mean I should.”

Jell leaned in closer, her breezy summer outfit flowing open to reveal that she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath. “Who says you shouldn’t?”

“Don’t tempt me, girl, people talk enough as it is.”

“I’ve been seen sneaking out of your place often enough to fill the gossip mills for an annura.”

“Well, you could always move in with me.”

Jell sipped at her drink and instantly regretted her choice, wanting something stronger. If she didn’t have plans with her study group later, she’d order it. “You know I’m not ready for that.”

“Why not?” he asked, as he assembled the snack tray.

She glanced up into one of the mirrors over the bar. She didn’t like the way she was looking this cycle. The dress was fine, but she’d been up late studying so much that she’d acquired bags under her eyes, bags that reminded her too much of the few images she’d seen of Kamden Krain. “If you didn’t keep yourself so far from my family, then maybe. It’s like you’re hiding something. You wouldn’t even come to my brother’s wedding two tridecs ago.”

“Babe, you know I had to work that cycle, plus I really don’t do weddings.”

“I know, but you keep making excuses.  My grandparents aren’t going to live forever and I’m getting tired of their questions.  If you’d at least let me image you, show them that you’re a good guy, then maybe they’d back off.”

“What about your grandfather’s, what did you call them, shadows?”

Jell nodded.

“If he’s as smart as you say, he could take that image, figure out where I work, and fill this place with them. I thought you wanted here, and me, to be your escape from that life.”

I hate it when he’s right.

At the other end of the bar, several club workers sat watching the news on the holoprojector while others cleaned and reset the holographic projectors. Those watching the news gasped as a report finished and one of them ran back to the two of them. “Hey, did you hear?”

Derjin looked up at the man and grimaced. “Hear what?”

“You’re both Energy Gatherers right? Well the queen of the Electrolites, she dead man.”

Derjin gave him an odd look. “What are you talking about?”

“Kamden Krain, man.”

Jell shook her head and reached up to touch the bags under her eyes.  She hated hearing that name.  “Kamden Krain died over twenty five annura ago. What are you talking about?” Jell asked.  Thank you, granddad, for keeping the Vaughnt name!

“Are you kidding? They just found her spirit orb.”

Derjin scoffed. “They’re not spirits. Those are just memory imprinted quantum wavicles. If they don’t disperse after death they form into orbs, feeding off ambient energy. Read a study on them sometime instead of your mystical crap.”

The other man chuckled. “Believe what you want, man, spirits, wavicles, whatever. They found her and they sealed her.”

Derjin’s eyes went wide and he looked away.

Jell gasped and turned towards the man. “They found her. My parents passed beyond, or dispersed, whatever you want to call it, and that critch stayed behind?!”

Derjin turned back, fixing her with a hard gaze. “Watch your words.”

She looked back over at him. “What, Derjin? Don’t tell me you believe in the Electrolite cause.”

He paused for just a moment before shaking his head. “No, but sealing an orb, that’s some serious schreg. When did it happen?”

“Uh, around,” he turned back to the man at the holoprojector. “Hey man when did the report say that happened? The Kamden thing.”

The other man backed up the report.  It took him a moment then he called back.  “Around one thirty two.”

Derjin frowned. That was over five tridecs ago. “And we’re only just finding out about it, why?”

“Dunno. They said it happened on some super hush hush top secret base or something. They didn’t say what she was doing there, either.”

This disturbed Jell more than she could let Derjin know.  She had spent her youth hearing horror stories of Kamden’s exploits.  Her grandparents held Kamden up as the example of how not to act as an Energy Gatherer.  She was a moral lesson for Jell and Blazer against misusing their abilities. To learn that the last leader of the Electrolites was still out there plotting, even if she was just a spirit orb, left Jell feeling numb.  What could Kamden’s spirit have been up to all this time? Was she planning some revenge against the Vaughnts?  Jell had heard of other orbs, those of great leaders, or even criminals continuing to plot and plan their previous ways.  It hurt her to know that Kamden’s spirit had been free.

Derjin just stared off into the space, his gaze hard and haunting.

“Is something wrong?” Jell asked.  Why is he so bothered by this?

He shook his head and looked back at her. “No, it’s just interesting to hear. Kamden Krain was a powerful Energy Gatherer. Her death shattered the Electrolite cause, most say killed it.”

Jell rolled her eyes “Oh please, the Electrolites were just another group who thought that their genetic specialty made them superior to everyone else.

Derjin looked back at her, lightning bolts dancing between his fingers. “You don’t think we are?”

Jell smiled, cockeyed at him. “I’m not saying we’re not superior to the blanks.”

The other man at the bar drew back in mock surprise and shock. “Hey! I’m standing right here.”

They both shot him a look and he walked off laughing. “But come on. Saying that one subgroup is superior to another, no I can’t believe it, even this ability of ours,” Jell said pulling apart her middle finger and thumb to show an arc of electricity, “has its drawbacks.”

“Good. That’s the kind of talk that can get you into trouble if people hear you say it in public. It makes people think you’re an Electrolite or something.”

Jell gave him a wicked smile.  “Well, I will say that there’s something about being with another Energy Gatherer.  It is the most intense experience I’ve had my whole life,” she went on breathing in deep enough to throw out her chest, remembering the last time they’d made love.

“You have no idea, darling. I’d rather be with an EG girl any cycle.”

She leaned across the bar and gave him a kiss. “Good, that’s what I like to hear. Now what were you saying before about doing me right here on the bar?”

He smiled back and pulled her across the bar towards him. “Too many eyes. Storeroom, let’s go.”

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Dorm Room 513

As Blazer returned to his and Marda’s new room after classes, PT, and his study group, he found the call light on his console blinking. He rushed to the console and saw it had come from home. It had to be late there, nearly Midduwn. Bracing himself for an emergnecy, he slapped the answer key. Jell’s agitated face appeared and he could not hide his surprise to see her waiting for him. She’d never called him before. “Jell, what are you even doing up?”

She waved off his question, an upset look on her face. “Did you hear the news?”

What is she on about?  He read the cyclic news brief every dawn and there was nothing in it that should have upset her this much.  At least nothing he saw.  “What news?”

She looked back and forth to make sure that no one was listening in.

Why is she being so secretive? The Admiral and Grandma have to be in bed by now.

She leaned in close and answered, just above a whisper. “Kamden.”

Blazer shot a look over his own shoulder. Marda’s schedule would bring her home from her own study soon. They had planned to have a late dinner together, but she wasn’t due for a few more pulses. “Yeah, I heard.”

“And you weren’t going to tell me? How long ago did you find out?”

Play it cool.  Any news report would have minimal information at best, and this isn’t a secure link. “What did the report say, that you saw? I hate to tell you something you already know.”

“I looked it up after I got home. There’s not a whole lot of info on the weave, just that it happened on some top secret Confed facility and that a medium found and sealed her.”

Blazer read a quick report on his micomm confirming what she’d said. Most of it was just a history of Kamden’s crimes. “True. Any names listed in what you read?”

Jell’s eyes went wide. “No!”

“Wait, Jell, don’t say anything. This isn’t a secure link.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I was.”

Jell went to say something then stopped. “How long was she there?”

Blazer considered that. “Maybe you should ask the Admiral.”

She scoffed at him. “I tried asking him earlier and he said it was all ‘need to know.’ He doesn’t even trust me enough to tell me about that little shadow of his that follows me.”

“How long have you known about that?”

“You knew?!”

Blazer threw up his hands. “I only found out after the incident with Kamden. How long have you known about them?”

She sighed. “I’ve known for a while. I’ve gotten really good at ditching them, too. Grandpa doesn’t know where I hang out anymore. They can’t follow me if I don’t want them to.”

“Jell, they’re for your protection, in case any Electrolites are still out there and know who we are. To use us or…”

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. But how long was she there? Where has she been hiding all this time?”

“She’s been here the whole time.”

Jell gave him a confused look, like she’d misheard him. While the psi-comm link allowed for near instant communication across the galaxy, it still had dropouts in the audiovisual sometimes.

“I mean she’s been here, the whole time,” he repeated, then pointed at Jell before pointing at himself and running his finger in a circle in the air around his head.

Jell’s eyes went wide and her hair began to stand on end. “You’re kidding me,” she hissed in a low, shocked voice.

“No. She’s been there our whole lives. It looks like you had good reason to not like having her around.”

“And nobody knew?”

“Don’t ask me how. She disguised her identity.”

“So how did she get discovered?”

“She slipped up and let a medium she was talking to know little clues about her identity. She revealed her by accident, then sealed her.”

“Good, then I owe her a kiss next time you come to visit. Where’s the old dead critch now?”

“No idea.”

Jell didn’t look convinced.

Before she could reply, he went on. “No, I’m serious. I have no idea. After she was sealed, the rest of the orbs hauled her off somewhere. That’s the last I’ve seen or heard of it.”

“All right, well, next time you come home we have a lot to talk about, big brother.”

“Tell me about it. Sorry we didn’t get much time to talk the last couple times I’ve been home.”

“You were busy. Trying to nail your girlfriend, then marrying her of course. I just wish you could have met Derjin.”

“The mystery boyfriend has a name, does he? It would have been nice to check him out. Has he even met the Admiral or Grandma yet?”

“No, he keeps evading it. He doesn’t want to say where he works and have my shadows find me there. He respects my privacy.”

“Good.  Well, next time I come home, you’ll have to bring me to see him then.  I need to make sure he’s good enough for my little sister. Tell me more about this guy. I swear I won’t tell the Admiral.”

“You better not,” and Jell proceeded to talk to Blazer for close to a hect before Marda returned.

Anul System, Planet Anul, Capben, Club Soren

Long after Jell had returned home, Derjin had proceeded back into the supply room to get more bottles for his customers. The noise of the club reverberated through the shelves, nothing more than a dull thrum as he made his way to the back. Once he was sure that no one was around, he pulled out his macomm, and placed a call to his handler. “I found out about Kamden being sealed a few hects ago. How long have we known? Why was I not informed?”

He looked at the spot where he had taken Jell, earlier. The floor still bore stains where they had knocked over several bottles and discharged into them when they climaxed, setting the liquid ablaze.

“The girl and I are becoming more serious. We are no longer on plan. Request instruction on how to proceed.”

He got his orders, signed off the macomm, and grabbed two fresh bottles of whiskey before heading back to the bar. As he closed the door, a spirit orb hovered out from behind the bottles. It examined the spot on the floor and twittered in excitement before racing away.

UCSB DATE: 1001.309

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Flight Instruction Room 514

Arion felt like he could reach out and mold the tension in the room as they waited for Grunt to arrive.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen this group so nervous before.  Almost all of them just sat there cradling their composite domed helmets, staring into them with mixtures of gleeful anticipation or terror.

Sighing, he set his own on his console and found Gokhead sitting as calmly and cooly as ever. “You think you’re ready for this?”

Gokhead nodded. “I’ve been ready for Level Five practically since we started.”

“You’re not worried at all? I mean Level Four was intense enough, but you still felt separate from your fighter, this is a whole…”

“It’s a whole other level.  We’ll become one with our fighters.  We’ll feel everything as if it was a part of us. When we go atmo, we’ll feel the wind over our wings.”

Arion shook his head, Gokhead was far too intimate with machines for his taste. “You’d upload your brain into a synthetic intelligence in a moment wouldn’t you?”

To Arion’s surprise, Gokhead shook his head. “No, implant my brain in a robot body, maybe. But go full on trans-sentient, no, there are too many factors that could go wrong. If I had no other choice, maybe, but not now.”

“Room ten’hut!” one of the Nip Tails called from the back of the room, ending their conversation.

Everyone in the room jumped to his or her feet, several helmets falling to the deck. A few reached down and retrieved their errant equipment and placed them back on their consoles. The sound of the falling domes made Grunt wince.

He strode to the front of the room without uttering a word, his face set in an unreadable mask, the cadets staying at attention. He reached his station and set his helmet down on his seat, handling it with the same care as he would his own fresh-from-the-womb, pouch-bound infant. The room stayed at attention as he walked over to his podium and pulled out a ceramic jar.

“At rest,” he called out.

Everyone slackened their pose and turned to look at him.

He held up the empty jar. “This is your skull. This is what happens to your skull without a brain bucket,” he called out, throwing the jar to the deck.

The jar shattered, fragments flying out across the floor. Seated in the front row, Arion winced as the shards bounced off his boots.

Helmet held high, Grunt roared at the cadets. “Your brain bucket will save your life, if properly cared for. Do not drop it. Do not let it roll around on the deck. Your helmet can take a lot of abuse, but it’s designed to break before you do. It must be properly maintained. Now pick them up!”

Arion heard half a dozen cadets drop to the floor and pick up their helmets before resting them on their consoles.

“I never want to see another brain bucket on the deck, ever again. Seats.”

Grunt replaced his helmet on his console while everyone dropped into their seats, then walked back to the podium.  He looked the group over and touched a control on the podium.  A chart lit up on the board behind him.  The chart listed each cadet in the room along the vertical axis and along the top of the horizontal axis the five interface levels.  Within the grid were markings for when each cadet achieved a specific level.  All of the cadet had levels one through four dated, but none had the level five row marked in.  Grunt tapped another control and the final column filled in with this cycle’s date.

The cadets looked about the room, nodding at each other then turned back to face Grunt.

“Some of you have been ready to make the transition to level five for several decles now, but we had to wait until everyone had caught up, and also for your fighter type announcements.”

Arion rolled his eyes as Gokhead and several others puffed out their chests at the proclamation.

“You’ve all mastered the first four levels of your interfaces and while the wait has been frustrating, I assure you, it was necessary. When you reached Level Four, you reached a sense of unity with your ship, but were still separate from it. Level Five takes that last step and makes you one with the craft. The line that separates you and it disappears. You become the ship,” he looked around the room.

Arion exhaled and nodded, his nerves steady.  Let’s do this.

“There is something else, though. In Level Five you become legion. You will network with the other fighters in your squadron and will be able to feel not only your own craft, but each others’. The lines between you will blur as a result.”

Arion felt the pit in his stomach return.  A collective mind? That just upped the stakes. Am I ready to take it to that extreme? Will I lose my sense of individuality?  The sound of shuffling and little coughs told him he wasn’t the only one.

“I realize you must have questions about this. Let me start with the most common ones I have heard. ‘Why have we never heard of this before?’ Simple; the fact that we join a collective consciousness, while in Level Five, is kept within the WSO community. Few outsiders would ever understand it and many would fear it. It would face the same stigma that early adopters of modern micomms and early Psionics felt as well.

“‘Is it dangerous?’ No, if one of your wingman takes a hit and goes down, you notice their loss and it may limit your effective sensor ability, but it will not cause you any harm, other than the emotional loss of a comrade.

“‘What is the purpose of such a system?’ Easy, to keep tabs on each other, to make sure that your buddy is okay and that if they need help, you can help them, be it a combat threat or a systems issue.

“‘What does it feel like?’ You’ll find that out in a moment.”

The room went silent as Grunt looked over the cadets again.

“Now hear this!” he barked, drawing everyone’s attention. “Not everyone can fully adjust to using Level Five. The merging of self with the machine can be too much for some, and the networking, sometimes more so. That is why you were tested to enter into the WSO Corps. Those who are too willing to join with the machine and give up their individuality would never be able to go into Level Five and leave it again. You must understand, whether or not you use Level Five when you fly is up to you, but you must prove that you can use it. Otherwise, you will be washed out. Anyone who does not want to go any further can go now.”

Arion grabbed his helmet and stood up. He felt the eyes of everyone in the room fall upon him before he looked into Grunt’s eyes. Grunt stared back with a singular steely-eyed intensity. Arion looked to each of his fellow cadets with a gaze that told them he understood their fears before turning back to his teacher. His face impassive, he looked down, pulled his helmet on, and locked eyes with Grunt again as he sealed the helmet. “Let’s do this.”

“What are you waiting for, get your brain buckets on, people!” Grunt ordered, walking back to his station and grabbing his own.

Arion sat back in his seat and pulled up the interface menu.  He waited and the Level Five interface soft key illuminated.  It’s go time.  Swallowing hard, he reached out, pressed the key and closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes to a brilliant star field. All around him, a mixture of forward swept wing Splicer 5000 Firehawks and asymmetric Splicer 3000 Markers, with their massive antimatter cannons,—the assigned craft of the Monstero Nach and Nip Tails— appeared. He gazed in wonder at the scene and, without even realizing it, recognized the WSO of each craft. He willed himself away from the craft and took a God’s Eye View of the area. While it reminded him of how he watched things in Level Four, it felt worlds different, the thoughts of his fellow WSOs tickling the back of his mind.

“Welcome to Level Five,” Grunt called out and pulled Arion back into his own craft.  “You’ve no doubt taken a look around and seen each other.  Now I want you to see yourselves.  Perform a self-diagnostic.  Not an automated diagnostic.  I want each of you to check on your systems yourselves.  Don’t take the computer’s report.”

Arion set to work and commenced his diagnostic by checking his power core.  An acute awareness of his own heart beating filled him.  He stopped for a moment.  What the…?  Chuckling to himself in realization, he continued his power core check and found his hearts beating steady and calm.  The system is using my own hearts to represent the photon energizers, and is that? Yes, it’s a third heart.  He checked his fuel tanks and the feeling of a full stomach greeted him.  Proceeding into the engines, he felt his legs tense and relax as he pulsed the thrusters through a standard test.  This is just trippy.  Moving up, he checked his computer and felt a tingle at the base of his skull. His face muscles contracted and relaxed when he checked the cockpit. Looking at life-support forced his lungs to take a deep breath, exhale, and take another. Curling and uncurling his toes made his landing gear extend. Repeating that process retracted them again.

“An interesting experience to say the least,” Grunt commented, interrupting the diagnostic. “By now you’ve all come to see what most of your default settings are. You can customize these later, but for now, keep looking. I’ll let you know when we’ll continue with the lesson.”

Grunt, master of understatements.  Arion set back to work, even more curious and excited to feel his fighter through his own body.  He checked his communications array, ears twitching and mouth opening and closing in response.  He looked around smiling and, as he shook his head became aware that his sensors were his own eyes, eyes that now saw all around him.  Still smiling, he flexed his arms and felt the flight control jets on his wings fire in response.  I wonder.  He extended his arms and leaned side to side like he would as a child when pretending to be an airplane, the fighter rolled in response.  Blazer would kill for this interface.

A thought occurred to Arion and he clenched his hands into fists. His GP-77-8-C plaser cannons came online, the flow of plasma to the weapons pulsing through his veins. He changed his hands into a chopping position and felt them come to represent his bio cannons. Changing their shape once again, he curled his fingers yet left his palms exposed holding the half curled fingers out from his hand. With a snap of capacitors, his system disabling E-13-77-G Narfic cannons came online.

He turned his hands about, aiming and focusing them on different targets, and the guns complied, twisting on their gimbaled arms. He drew his hand into a classic pointing position and his missile launchers activated. He tracked his pointer fingers about, locking them onto different targets. Extending and retracting his middle fingers, he cycled through the missile types available. An almost unconscious sphere of influence around him limited where and how far he could point depending on the weapon. Arion cycled through the missiles several times, but to his dismay, he could not find his shark torpedoes.

Okay, I know they’re there, I can feel them hanging off my belly remoras.  He scoffed at the irony of that thought. Unsure how to access the weapons, he called up the system’s help tutorial through his micomm and looked up the default hand signal. He found the sign and extended his hand. Laying it flat, he stuck his thumb and pinky away from the rest and felt his sharks awaken. He aimed his hands at various targets, locking them into the missiles’ memory cores, in case his link to them was later severed.

“All right, it looks like you’ve all finished, now let’s go on. Your sensors have automatically joined with those of everyone else. This is a default you can turn on or off at any time. Try disabling it now.”

Arion allowed himself to see the almost ethereal strands connecting him to the others, then severed them.  The range of his sensors dropped to the point that he felt blind for a moment.  The mass shadows of debris and the other fighters didn’t help.  He found several areas that his position wouldn’t let him see into now that he was denied the ‘eyes’ of his fellow WSOs.

“All right, link back to each other.”

Faster than they’d disengaged, the cadets reestablished their sensor data link weave and the blind spots all but disappeared.

“That is one of the primary reasons for the Level Five networking. You can do the same thing in lower levels, but nowhere near as effectively, nor as quickly.

“Now I am going to give each of you damage to a different system. I want you to figure out where, and see to its repair.”

Arion floated while waiting until a massive cramp shot up his left leg. It felt debilitating and out of reflex, he grabbed at the spot. The act of clasping his hand to the injury sent repair microbots to the scene.

He identified the problem an instant later and the tiny robots were set to work fixing the damaged accelerator coil in the plasma rocket. After pulling back his hands, the pain subsided as the robots continued to work, but his leg still felt stiff. He heard a groan of pain and turned to look at Gokhead, the mental image of him clutching his head filling his view as Gokhead endeavored to fix his computer system. A moan drew his attention to Acknit as he clutched at his stomach in an effort to seal a fuel leak, a bright yellow stain marring his flightsuit. Others stared at their hands, unable to make them into fists, their plaser cannons offline, while others found their own problems, some trivial, some major.

“As you can see, damage to a system is represented by pain in various body parts. As you progress you will learn how to cope with damage in multiple systems and how to best effect repairs.”

“Sir, I noticed when I took damage to my computer system that my head felt kind of fuzzy. Yet I could still concentrate and think, it was strange,” Gokhead commented, his voice once again taking on a machinelike quality that Arion found disturbing.

“That is correct, Cadet Gokhead.  If your computer core takes damage, your link to the fighter degrades as well.  You will still be able to think clearly, but your command of the ship will diminish. You must all realize that as the WSO, you are a part of the computer system, and of the fighter itself. Should your pilot become incapacitated, irrational or killed, you have full override capability and can fly the craft yourself.”

“Makes you wonder what we be needing them for,” Telsh laughed.

“I’ll tell you why you need them,” Grunt barked, cutting off any replies. “Even with your ability to control the fighter all by yourself, you still can’t manage the fighter’s onboard systems and fight effectively.

“Pilots are focused people. They focus on the objectives and the targets you give them. This can give them tunnel vision, and they block out everything else. It is your job to cover what they’re blocking out. You fly your pilots. If you tried to fly the craft as well as manage it, you too would become focused on a single objective and lose your bearings on all that’s around you. In space combat, that is deadly. It’s like a sniper. Cadet Talkerna what does every sniper have with them?”

“A… a spotter,” Matt replied. “Yeah, when you’re sniping you become focused on the target. You tend to block out any danger to yourself and concentrate on hitting the target. The spotter is there to cover you. Situational awareness is key for them. Just like in a Pilot, WSO team.”

“So then why are you a WSO?” Nash asked. “I mean, you are a sniper.”

“It’s just how I scored on the tests. Besides, Gavit and I make a great team in flight, almost as good as Bichard and me on the ground.”

“That is correct,” Bichard replied, his voice devoid of hum or punctuating clicks.

“Exactly as I was saying. Acting as a team, you are more likely to survive an engagement and come away victorious,” Grunt continued. “Another reason for the weaving system is simple. You can assist each other. Should one of your fighters take heavy damage or a WSO is injured, it is possible for another to link in and assist, taking on some of the mental workload.

“Also, I’m sure you’ve all realized or experienced by now the rush of combat, even in sims. Your hearts pound, your mind races, adrenaline starts pumping, and you can lose track of things. I am going to simulate battle conditions in your brains and do damage to three of you. Figure out who it is, because those affected may not notice.”

Arion began checking on his comrades as the exercise commenced. He wasn’t searching long before Gokhead interrupted him.

“Arion, check your left wing.”

No way.  Arion felt confused for a moment then looked over and saw that his arm was gone. Pulling back to a God’s Eye View, he saw that his whole left wing had been sheared off. Pulling back to his own sensors, he found a blur on his left side, the loss of his wing stripping away one of his sensor pods with it.

“That is just plain weird,” Arion commented as he stared at the nub that was once his arm. “Thanks for the heads up, Gok! I didn’t even notice.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Grunt announced. “We watch each other’s backs. Now we’re going to try something truly disorienting.”

Damage to the three WSOs’ fighters disappeared, and darkness replaced almost everything in Arion’s vision. He could see and feel himself and his fighter, but he couldn’t see anything around him. Nervous cries for explanation rang out from several WSOs, as they looked for a solution to their sensor loss. Arion focused outward, listening for any kind of sensor buoy or ship, hoping to get a sensor image.

“Losing one’s sensors is one of the most frightening and disorienting things that can happen to a WSO. Even with your sensors on passive mode, you can still receive data and put together a situational outlook, though far more limited. Using your communications systems, you might be able to get sensor data from another source, but if all else fails, you still have your good old Mark One Eyeballs to fall back on.

“Now for something even worse,” Grunt said, and all went silent.

Arion tried to listen for any communication but found none.  Grunt just rendered us all deaf and blind.  Arion called out just in case anyone could hear him, but found his mouth sealed shut, he couldn’t transmit.  Panic began to set in as Arion searched for a way to see or communicate.

Wait, the forward targeting array is on a different sensor network, he realized, feeling more than a bit foolish. He accessed the targeting system, but short-range scanners didn’t respond. Frustrated, he attempted to reroute the system, and almost didn’t notice something very important.

How could I have been so stupid?  He activated his gun cameras.  An image of space ahead filled his view.  Arion set to work and repositioned his Narfics to look out in a wide arc.  Integrating the cameras together, he formed a rough panorama of space ahead of him.  He noted several navigational marks and other craft and recorded their positions.  Panning the Narfic Cannons about their full range of motion, he found even more.

A tickle ran up his arm, sending the hairs straight up.  Arion panned the guns towards the source but it was beyond their range of motion.  It took Arion a moment to realize what had happened.  Someone’s painting my shields with a low powered laser beam.

The beam pulsed in and out, like a data stream. He set to work using the remaining portions of the communication system to analyze the data and, as the data flowed in, a text message appeared from Gokhead’s fighter. Images from Gokhead’s gun cameras soon appeared and filled in the gaps in Arion’s view along with a heading towards Gokhead’s craft. Arion angled his fighter towards Gokhead, painted him with his own laser, and completed the link.

“Good thinking, Gokhead.”

“Best I could come up with, but we need a way to communicate with the others,” Gokhead replied, his voice a little more normal, his transmission filled with pops and static. “Signal isn’t the cleanest in the universe.”

“What do you want?  We’re using targeting lasers and EM Torus shields.  I’m surprised the shields aren’t scattering the laser even more. Hold on, do you think we can weave this all together?”

“I think so, but why? Oh, I see now. Yes, try it, I’ll stay here.”

Arion set his plan into action and steered his fighter to point towards Matt’s. Once facing the fighter, he painted it with a laser, transmitting his and Gokhead’s data, as well as how to continue the weave. It wasn’t long until all the assembled craft but Grunt’s, which had disappeared, joined the weave. The images surrounding them were hazy and filled with gaps as well as the popping and crackling of each other’s voices. Image and voice quality deteriorated as each member joined the network.

“So what do we do now?” Acknit asked. “We can’t go anywhere this way.”

“Maybe we’re taking the wrong approach here,” Temblin, one of the Nip Tails offered. “I mean Grunt did say that when all else fails, let the pilot do his job, and revert to the old mark one. I don’t see how we’d be any worse off than we are now.”

“He’s got a point,” Rudjick admitted. “Our instruments are all still functioning. So we could navigate home.”

“With sensors out, we have no reference points to realign with. We could get lost forever,” another Nip Tail commented.

“Yes, we do,” Arion said with a chuff. “We have our eyes, our micomms, and the instruments in our helmets. We can manually recheck using them. It’s not the best way to do things, but it should work long enough for us to at least make it to a navigation or sensor buoy. Once we find one of those, we should be able to fix the sensors and communications gear on at least one fighter and use it to herd us home.”

“It’s risky, but I think it’s the best idea,” Nash agreed. “We’ll be limited to regular drives. Without sensors there’s no way we can risk slipstream.”

“Alright then, drop back to level one interface and prepare to navigate,” Arion commanded.

One by one, the weave went offline as the WSOs dropped out of Level Five; severing the link with their fighters.  Arion blinked several times. After he opened his eyes and looked around his console, the star field projected on a hologram around him.  Wishing he could rub his eyes, he found several navigational marks already programmed into the computer.  Scanning the skies, he found other fighters, and they began to bunch in close enough so that the crews could see each other.  He angled his craft into the tight formation, flashed hand signals to those around him, and steered towards a nearby moon.  I can’t even use the micomm link, there must be some kind of interference.

“About time you thought to do that,” Grunt announced as the holograms disappeared.

Arion felt disoriented for a moment as he found himself in the classroom again, and the micomm link sprang back to life.

“Some catch on and revert to Level One a lot sooner. I’ve seen classes just keep on trying Level Five until I had to pull them out. You guys were about average. I have a question, though. If Cadets Temblin and Scotts hadn’t suggested reverting to Level One, how long would you have stayed at Level Five?”

Several cadets shrugged in response.

“Sir, I’m not sure how long we’d have waited,” Nash replied. “True, it was frightening not being able to see, but I think the weave kept us together a bit longer. The weave showed us how we could communicate, though, so I think it was necessary.”

“True, but you forgot about your micomms. Jamming or no, get close enough and you can communicate through them.”

Arion considered that for a moment.  Shreg it all, he’s right. Even with the interference, if we’d drawn a little closer we should have been able to talk.

“Also, the weave left you vulnerable,” Grunt continued. “But that’s what training sessions are for, to let you make mistakes here, before you make them out there.

“You did well, though. I’m happy with the progress you’ve made. You still have a ways to go yet, but we’ll get you there. Class is just about over, and I’ll be in my office later if any of you need to talk about anything. Class dismissed.”

Arion’s legs felt weak as he pulled off his helmet and attempted to stand.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that? Don’t worry, as you use Level Five more the effects of coming out of total immersion will lessen.”

Arion and Gokhead helped each other out of the room. After they cleared the door, a text message came in over Arion’s micomm from Gokhead. “Grunt left his micomm open. Want to see something interesting?”

Arion looked over his shoulder. <Are we secure?> he asked via micomm text.

<Yes.>

<Go ahead.>

<We did better than Grunt said. Our timing to revert was second overall. We only missed out on the number one slot by twenty six centipulses.>

Arion whistled.  <Why didn’t he tell us?>

Gokhead shrugged. <You know Grunt, probably didn’t want it going to our heads.>

<Then let’s keep it quiet.>

UCSB DATE: 1001.325

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Main Hangar

Ever since he’d received his acceptance letter to the academy, Gavit Markus had had just one dream, and this cycle, that dream would come true.  Sitting in the pilot’s seat of his Splicer 5000, he looked around the cockpit with awe and wonder as it waited on the flight-deck, a perched bird of prey ready to strike.  He ran his ungloved hands over the controls, memorizing the feel of each one.  His fingers slipped along the cool darkness of the darkened silicasteel screens in front of him.  He couldn’t even remember the last lover he’d caressed with such tenderness. He marveled at the glossy black panels.  They lay dark and lifeless for now, but soon they would come to life, giving him a situational view unparalleled by his enemy.  His eagerness to take the craft to the skies soared to such heights that he reached for the canopy control—one of the few physical switches in the cockpit.  His finger hovered over the release and stopped. She’s not just my bird.

Pulling back his hand, Gavit slid forward in his seat and craned his neck to look at the empty seat behind him. No Splicer 5000 flew without its WSO, the second crew member who served as the real brains of the starfighter. Leaning back in his seat, Gavit looked up at the ceiling of the hangar high above him, then through it and the decks beyond, to the infinite sky surrounding them.

He imagined himself flying the fighter as he had done so many times before—the dream which topped all others. To fly amongst the stars in the fighter his uncle had helped develop, to fly and fight against those that would harm the UCSB, to do what only his uncle had done before, and to make him proud of his nephew.

“You might want to wait until you at least start the engines,” Matt called as he approached.

Blinking twice to pull himself back from his dream, Gavit turned to his best friend and WSO as he neared—his flightsuit on and helmet nestled under his arm.

“Closing up the canopy and putting on your helmet could also help,” Matt added as he reached the fighter. The helmet clinked against the reverse thruster housing as Matt set it down and locked eyes with his pilot. “Missed you at breakfast. Sheol, also missed you at wake up, where have you been?”

Gavit stroked the cockpit’s interior with a delicate touch, reveling in the coolness before he answered. “Couldn’t sleep, woke up about a hect before the rest of you guys, so I went for a walk. Then I grabbed breakfast and headed over here.”

Matt looked over the silver-trimmed midnight blue fighter that Gavit had spent the previous hect memorizing every square centimetra of. “Preflight completed?”

Gavit threw a thumb at the eight-barreled GP-77-8-C Plaser cannon over his shoulder, the immaculate barrels inside their protective faring shining in the light of the hangar. “Just need to pull the safety tags on the weapons and thrusters.”

Matt nodded and gave the fighter his own once-over.  Gavit traced the steps in his mind.  Over the last three tridecs, he’d gotten to know his craft almost too well.  He started his inspection at the D-B-6-G Donvarion Bio Cannon that literally clutched the tip of the forward swept wing.  The only weapon known to be produced by the enigmatic elder race, it was actually a biomechanical organism.  The carapace barrel and outer casing radiated a greenish glow at its thinnest points.  Within, the weapon processed a bacterium that formed a highly corrosive compound capable of melting a ship’s hull once fired.  The organic-based weapon still sent a slight shiver down even Gavit’s spine.  I swear that sensor eye blinks at me sometimes.

The sensor pods tipping each of the cruciform tail surfaces were as spotless as the rest of the fighter.  These gave the fighter almost unobstructed views in all directions, and their Do not paint marking still emblazoned the sensor caps.  Massive twin engines dominated the rear of the craft, their thrust direction rings immobile and awaiting activation.

Gavit reached his hand out to touch his name imprinted on the fuselage beside him. “Still hard to believe it’s ours, isn’t it?”

In sharp contrast to the Splicer-1000s they had flown before, each crew now had a craft to themselves. Most of these fighters would follow them to their first assignments, returning to the front lines as their cadet crews graduated. Unlike the squadrons, the Monstero Nach’s fighters were not depot refits, but brand new craft, which drew the ire of some other units.

“That it is,” Matt replied, grabbing his helmet off the thruster housing. “Glad we don’t have to share these with another crew.”

“Did you see how jealous Chertsin and his cronies were, when these showed up?” Gavit continued, scratching at the pristine headrest. “No depot refits for us, but factory fresh birds.”

“Having Tadeh Qudas as our squadron commander has its advantages. Hey, everyone else is on their way. We might as well preflight the cockpit before they get here,” Matt offered, tossing his helmet towards his seat before he climbed up the boarding ladder and into the cockpit. Thanks to the low gravity this close to the station’s centerline, Matt was able to settle into his seat before plucking his helmet from the air. He pulled it on as Gavit smiled and did the same. After plugging his suit’s umbilical into the seat and sealing it, a cool breeze of the fighter’s internal oxygen supply washed over his face.

Matt and Gavit settled into their positions and secured their restraints. Matt tapped the activation stud on his main display, and the fighter’s computer system purred to life. A holographic planet with a fighter racing into orbit around it, the Splicer Corp logo, appeared before Gavit as the computers booted up. Within a pulse, the holographic image disappeared, replaced by a checklist.

“Computers and Heads Down Displays,” Matt called out, reading the first item on the list.

“Check,” Gavit replied, activating the triangular secondary screens that flanked his main display.

“Canopy,” Matt continued, the silicasteel covering totating closed with a click.

Gavit smiled when the blue light on his left console confirmed the canopy seal. “Check.”

“Heads Up Displays?”

Gavit activated his HUDs, and a set of annotated circles and lines appeared around him, relaying all his most needed flight information. “Check. Core status?”

Matt checked the three Photon Energizer Crystals, buried deep between the engines, which formed the heart of their crystallic fusion power source. “Power core is Blue.”

“Life Support Systems?”

“Life Support is at 99%, umbilical still attached. Master Arm switch?”

“Safe. Navigation Systems?”

“Check. Mission Computers?”

“Check. Sensors?

“On Standby. Throttle?”

“Off.”

“Undercarriage?”

“Deployed, always wondered why that was on a ground startup checklist.”

“Old habit, Gavit. We’ll need them down, if we bounce on takeoff. Fuel?”

Gavit shook his head. “100%. Yeah, I know, was just being smart. De-Grav Generators?”

“Well, don’t be. It doesn’t suit you,” Matt laughed. “Primed and ready. We are go for engine start.”

“Hold, wait for the others. Deck is not cleared,” Gavit ordered, halting the procedure as deck hands, fighter crew chiefs, flight crews and instructors crossed the deck to their individual craft.

“I see you beat us all here, Nach Zero Six,” Commander Pio-Tolis commented over the link, her helmeted face appearing in a tiny window of the main display.

“Yes, Ma’am, we are preflighted and ready to take off on your signal.”

“Good. Wait until your crew chief clears you, then power up and wait your turn for takeoff.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Matt replied. “Gavit, I’m going under the shroud. Try not to shake things up too much.”

Gavit’s patience wore thin as he watched others perform their walk-arounds and climb into their own cockpits for preflight checks. When the last canopy closed, Gavit turned to his crew chief who had just run into view in front of him. Anticipation growing, he glanced to both sides of his cockpit to confirm removal of exhaust locks from his retro thrusters, then back to his crew chief. Gavit waited for his signal until, locking eyes with him, the crew chief tapped the fighter on the nose and ran for cover.

“Umbilical detached,” Matt commented.

About time, Gavit thought. “We are go for engine start,” Gavit announced, pausing with bated breath and tapping the activation switch on his right console. “Engine One, start!”

“Engine one, up and spinning.”

Gavit’s toes curled as he tapped the second virtual switch. “Engine Two, coming up.” A resonating hum filtered through the fighter as the bar graph on the lower right of his console climbed up, filling Gavit with excitement. As the two Combined Cycle Plasma Drives synchronized, the hum all but disappeared.

“Engine Two is blue. We are go for taxi.” Switching over to the link, Matt called out, “Hangar Control, Monstero Nach Zero Six ready for taxi.”

“Copy that, Zero Six, you are clear. Taxi to tube three char, follow your guide beacons.”

“Zero Six copies, Control. Gavit, you are clear to taxi.”

Needing no more coaxing, Gavit slid the fighter across the guide beacons to his launch tube.  He caught the eyes of several other crews, and the disbelief on their faces drew a smile to his own.  Slackers.  Within a few pulses, he settled the craft onto the deck in front of the launch tube.  Giddy with excitement, he watched the doors open.  A moment later, the skeletal launch-claw reached out of the darkness to grab hold of his fighter.

Rubbing his hands together, he took one last look at the hangar deck before the docking claw lifted them off it.  Smiling, he closed his eyes as the claw pulled them into the dark launch tunnel. The view when he opened his eyes was nothing new. He’d lost count of the times he’d launched from these very tubes in his Splicer-1000. But this time was different. His pulse raced as he neared his dream. “Formation Lights.”

As the lights blinked to life, Matt projected the image of a set of reins in front of Gavit. “Now, don’t make me use those. Lights, check. Undercarriage?”

Gavit chuckled, tapping the controls. “Retracting.” The landing skids withdrew into the belly of the fighter and sealed against the rest of the surface. “Undercarriage retracted. I had an ex who used things like that on me, was kind of kinky. Shields?”

“Primed. Way too much information there,” Matt replied as he activated the fighter’s protective energy cocoon. Small hexagonal units behind the cockpit popped up and stood ready to fire positively charged particles from the port unit, and negatively charged from starboard, into the twin rotating magnetic fields spinning around the fighter. Gravitational deflectors winked on a moment later, jostling the fighter as they reacted against the tunnel walls. “Flight controls?”

Gavit test fired the directional control thrusters, and the docking claw resisted in order to keep the fighter centered in the tunnel. “Check. Sensors?”

“On and scanning. Sensor Imaging System coming on line.” The mini-holographic projector within the panels gave Gavit a nearly unobstructed view in all directions. The only blind spots left were those created by their wings, engines, and the seats on which he and his WSO sat. “S.I.S. fully activated,” Gavit commented, looking down at the closed doors through the floor. “God, I love this thing.”

“No kidding, you’ve had girlfriends you gave a lot less attention to. Launch Control, Monstero Nach Zero Six, ready for launch.”

“Copy that Six, your flight will launch in the third volley.”

Gavit rankled at that, but calmed his nerves as he felt the first flight launch, then the second, and the controller came back on the link.

“Flight Three, ready, steady, GO!!!”

Gavit had just enough time to press his head firm against the headrest. The catapult fired and pressed him back in his seat as the docking claw surged ahead and launched them down the tunnel. It was all Gavit could do not to hoot in delight. He wrapped his hands back around his throttle and stick, eyes locked on the docking claw indicator.

The indicator blinked twice and, with an echo of metal against metal behind him, Gavit felt the claw release. He eased the throttle open to maximum power, resisting the urge to goose the afterburner switch under his left thumb. Acceleration pressed him further into his seat before tripping his acceleration compensators. The safety devices increased their influence, limiting what he felt to three-Gs as a dull purple shimmer met his gaze, shields winking to life.

They shot free of the launch tube and Gavit let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  Following the navigation grid projected onto his wrap-around HUD, Gavit guided his fighter into formation with his squadron mates as they orbited the academy.  With practiced ease, he slid the craft into the slot position between Marda and Gokhead in Monstero Nach Zero Four and Porc and Nash in tail code MN-05.  He didn’t bother with the autopilot, holding his position in the formation with expert care as they circled over the academy.  Come on, give me something hard!

Three at a time, the squadron formed up. As Mikle and Acknit’s MN-13 joined at the rear of the squadron, Commander Pio-Tolis slid into lead position and the navigation markers changed, displaying a route out of the asteroid shell.

Surrounded on all sides by other fighters, Gavit guided MN-06 though the turn. They had practiced such maneuvers innumerable times in the simulator, but this was the real thing. Out here, a crash meant certain death in the cold darkness of space.

Glancing side to side and checking his sensor sphere, Gavit maintained position better than the others. “Zero Niner, Zero Six, watch your vector. You’re drifting too close,” Gavit called out, uncomfortable with Dibtel’s position.

“Copy that, Six. Gave it a little too much throttle, sorry,” Dibtel replied, Gadcon’s disembodied voice echoing Gavit’s command in the background.

Still used to maintaining his own communications and unwilling to allow anything to ruin his first flight in the Firehawk, Gavit scolded him. “Don’t be sorry, Niner! Just maintain your spacing! This is precision flight here!”

“All Units, Lead, cut the chatter and concentrate on your flying. We have a profile to fly, cadets, and we are to stick to it,” Commander Pio-Tolis ordered.

“We had it handled over the WSO link,” Matt told Gavit.

The link went silent in Gavit’s ears as the squadron proceeded through the asteroid shell towards the slipstream vector to Optimus Teg. Gavit still found the view outside the shell a little strange. In the early cycles of the academy, Optimus Teg always waited just at the edge of their vision, a faint yellow orb in the distance. But their orbit was much closer to the local star, opening up the gap between the academy and the giant. Now Optimus Teg was little more than a dot in the void, no different to the unaided eye than the billions of stars that greeted them every cycle.

Gavit eyed the virtual navigation beacon. “Matt, Slipstream checklist.”

Matt’s own eagerness echoed through the shroud link. “Copy that.”

“Slipstream entry vector?”

“Check.”

“Destination Coordinates?”

“Locked.”

“Slipstream drive online?”

“Check.”

“Gravitational profile?”

“Online. Slipstream drive is locked onto target profile. Confirm entry vector.”

Gavit checked the position on their HUD against that of the virtual icon ahead of them. “Vector confirmed. We are go for slipstream.”

“Copy that. Lead, Zero Six, we are go for slipstream.”

“Anxious this cycle, aren’t we, Zero Six?” Commander Pio-Tolis replied over the link. “Good, all units prep and coordinate slipstream with Zero Six, maximum velocity.”

“Copy that,” each fighter’s WSO replied in turn over the main link.

“All units, Six, Navigation computers synchronized,” Matt reported, more as a courtesy to the pilots than the WSOs, as the last fighter’s navigation computer locked in with their own. “Positioning set, ready for slipstream on your mark, Lead.”

“This is Lead, Six, go for slipstream at your ready.”

Gavit released his controls and held his hands up, a show of faith in his WSO. “All yours, Matt.”

“All Units, Six, initiating slipstream drives,” Matt called out after they’d entered into the optimum vector to slipstream to Optimus Teg. “Slipstreams locked on,” he continued as each fighter’s slipstream drive attracted the local dark matter and spun it into a cocoon of dark energy around them. “Slipping in five, four, three, two, one, mark!!!” Matt called, with power outputs increasing. The relative mass of each fighter dropped to less than 2 kilobar and engines flared full force, launching them towards their destination.

Gavit inhaled sharply from the front seat, not from the acceleration, which he hardly felt, but because everything around him disappeared, red-shifting out of the visible wavelengths.  Gavit swallowed hard when the S.I.S winked out and his instrumentation dimmed, the slipstream drive and acceleration compensators drawing almost all available power.  The universe outside his canopy became a haze, the fighters around him appearing motionless.  It gave him a familiar yet uneasy feeling.  I wonder how the WSOs see this? Not that I ever want to put on that helmet and find out.

The imposing visage of Optimus Teg soon appeared and loomed ever closer as they approached. It grew from a tiny yellowish dot to a blurred oval and soon, the massive world engulfed Gavit’s forward view as they decelerated. It was hard to believe, but thanks to their slipstream drives, the squadron had crossed the 1.6 billion kilometra gulf between Optimus Teg and the academy in a little over a hect.

Optimus Teg, Monstero Nach 06

“All units, standby for slipstream reversion, in five, four, three, two, one, mark!!” Matt announced before the whole of the smudged universe seemed to stop in place just as fast as it had started.

The glittering ice rings of Optimus Teg threatened to blind Gavit as they reverted.  Their position brought them in at just the right angle for the ice to reflect the sun and light up the rings.  As his vision cleared, Gavit looked down through the reactivated S.I.S.  What he saw made him catch his breath. Like a field of diamonds the rings were spread out before them, dancing and twinkling in the light of the local star, with orange highlights from Optimus Teg dancing glinting their surface.

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?” Gavit asked and followed the formation towards the ice rings.

“Nice thing about slipstream is you can emerge almost anywhere, not just at the prescribed entry and exit points. I figured we would want to get into the ice rings as soon as possible, so I computed for such. I don’t think anyone will complain. Nobody but you, that is.”

Gavit smiled as they approached the rings, their majestic appearance from afar disappearing with every beat of his hearts as ice chunks revealed the rings’ true nature. “I doubt it myself.”

“Okay, people,” Commander Pio-Tolis began over the link. “I’m sure you’ve all heard the stories about first flight in a Five Thousand from previous cadets. That you’re allowed to just run loose with these birds, pushing them and yourselves to the limits, in order to get a feel for them and get all that hot shot garbage out of your system. Well, now hear this. That is absolutely … dead … right.”

Gavit’s hearts pounded with the news. He hadn’t wanted to believe it before, but to hear it from Pio-Tolis was almost too much.

“Now, there are a series of waypoints designated throughout the ice rings of Optimus Teg. You are to fly to all of them, by whatever route you choose. Just remember that Tadeh Qudas and some other higher up went through a lot of trouble to get you people these new fighters. Don’t smash them up on their first time out.” Commander Pio-Tolis emphasized that last point, having brought her own fighter from the fleet.

“On my mark, break formation and make for the waypoints. Let’s see if any of you can beat me. Ready, steady, mark!!!”

The formation exploded as pilots broke free and gunned their engines for the first waypoint. Gavit pushed down on his throttle, dropped beneath the rest of the squadron, and punched the throttle to the stops, tickling the afterburner with his thumb. “Matt, divert power from the weapon systems to the engines and set the shields to minimum navigational power levels. We shouldn’t need combat shields.”

“Hey, who’s the WSO here? I’m already on it,” Matt announced. “Waypoint markers should be displayed on your HUD. I am scanning for the best possible route.”

“I’ve got your course now,” Gavit replied, forcing his thumb down onto the afterburner. The fighter raced forward leaving the rest of the squadron behind as Gavit drove on towards the first waypoint. His hearts pounded in his ears, memories of his old racing cycles flooding back. “Keep me apprised of everyone else’s locations relative to us.”

In response, a holographic list of the other craft in the squadron appeared on Gavit’s right side.

Gavit stared at the spinning ball of ice that was the race’s start point. “Thanks. That waypoint is damn close to an ice chunk, Matt.”

“Looks to be on it,” Matt replied a moment later, the waypoint hidden in the mass shadow of the icy lump from everyone in the squadron. “We have to get within thirty metra to trip the sensor, which definitely cuts it close. Porc is moving up on us fast!”

“I see that,” Gavit replied, gritting his teeth while adjusting his course, giving the list a quick scan.  “No problem with him, though. Hold on back there, this should get interesting.”

All guts, no brains, Gavit thought as he looked at their rear camera pointing at Porc.  His afterburners still silhouetted his craft.  He’ll never bleed off that momentum in time.  His own thumb off the ‘burner button now, he angled his craft towards the ice asteroid.  What I wouldn’t give to race Deniv like this again.  But that Three Kay he was assigned to would be no match.  Proximity alarms began to blare through the cockpit as Gavit neared the massive chunk of ice and rock.

“Follow this, Porc,” Gavit commented to himself as he cut his throttle and pushed down on it, shoving his inertia line below the ice chunk.

Hauling back on his stick, Gavit pointed his nose along a vector towards the next waypoint, his momentum carrying him over the surface of the asteroid. He smiled when the slow spin of the rock brought him close enough to the waypoint to trip it before he slid past. With the way ahead clear, Gavit punched the throttle wide open. It took his fighter a moment, but the engines and belly thrusters countered the impetus of their previous course, and they rocketed towards the next waypoint.

Gavit plunged into the ice field towards the second waypoint, focused on the course. “Porc?”

“Swung way wide, but he’s coming about. The rest are right behind him. Damn, where did she come from?” Matt called out an instant before Chris and Bichard’s fighter streaked past them, Pio-Tolis in their wake. “They must have been riding our blind spot! Damn, I should have seen them. The WSO weave is down, so I have blind spots all over. Sorry, I’m not used to that.”

Gavit chuckled as he slid his fighter in behind Pio-Tolis. “Don’t worry about it. They probably hugged that ice cube better and did a slingshot. If Porc hadn’t been so close, I might have tried it. We’re entering a thick part of the ice field now, though, so we’ll wait right here.”

“Draft them?”

“Of course, why waste shield power having to counter for ice impacts?”

Matt laughed as Gavit held their position behind Chris and Pio-Tolis’ two fighters plowing their way through the ice field. Gavit bided his time as they approached the second waypoint, but the wake-riding maneuver allowed the rest of the squadron to make up ground on the three leaders.

“Matt, give me the best course to the next waypoint.”

“Already plotted. Standby, we have a nice massive chunk of dense rock and metallics above the elliptic. If you give it a good, close, high-speed pass and stay in the corridor I plot, we should be able to use its limited gravity to slingshot around. That will put us on a solid course through the third waypoint onto number four. It’s going to take some major precision, though.”

Gavit examined the course Matt had plotted for him.  He wet his lips looking at it.  Is it my birth cycle already?

“You want to risk it? If we are off by even a few degrees we will have a lot of distance to make up, and we’ll lose our lead.”

“No one ever made history by playing it safe.  Plot the course.”  What I wouldn’t give to have had Matt as a navigator back when I was racing.

A few tens of centipulses later, the approach corridor coalesced on Gavit’s HUD and navigation display. Gavit studied it for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the numbers then nodded, and set his mind to follow it, determined not to deviate in the slightest.

“Okay, power to the forward shields. We’ll have to plow a bit before we’re in the clear.”

As the three leaders cleared the second waypoint, Gavit broke from the other two along Matt’s plotted course towards the small planetoid floating above the rings. The course change took Gavit out of Pio-Tolis’ wake and allowed tiny bits of ice to assault his gravitational deflector fields. Each impact lit up the forward navigational deflector field like a tiny firecracker. The course change did not go without comment.

“Race getting too much for you Markus?” Porc taunted over the link.

“No, Five, just employing a bit of strategy,” Gavit replied and punched his throttle full open towards the asteroid.

“Good thinking there, Six,” Pio-Tolis commented a moment later. “But are you sure you have the skill for it?”

A cocky smirk on his face, Gavit shot free of the ice field. “Without a doubt, ma’am.”

Punching his afterburners to scatter the ice behind him, he made it that much harder for anyone to follow.  “I hope you’re right about this, Matt,” Gavit said between gritted teeth as he adjusted his throttle according to his WSO’s course plot.  Damn, I’ll need to apologize for that. I don’t doubt you, buddy.  Engines blazing, Gavit closed his distance to the planetoid while the rest of the squadron continued through the ice field, drafting Chris and Pio-Tolis.

A text message from Matt appeared above Gavit’s sightline.  Don’t stress it, I know you trust me.

Gavit smiled at that and flexed his shoulders.

“Looks like the ice is finally slowing Chris a bit,” Matt commented as the pockmarked surface of the dense planetoid came into sharp focus. “I’m reading more power to her shields.”

“It’s been known to happen. I’ll bet Pio-Tolis is going to try and force Chris to keep the lead, so that she can keep drafting her, at least while they’re in the thick of it. I would.”

“She’s too smart for that. Okay, Gavit, it’s all you now, don’t deviate even a little.”

Gavit pressed his throttle forward on the commanded course and dove into the wireframe corridor laid out on the HUD before him.  Gavit grunted under the acceleration, sinking into his seat, as his fighter whipped around the planetoid, acceleration compensators unable to keep up.  As the rings came back into view, they shot out towards the third waypoint at tremendous velocity, the whine of the acceleration compensators ringing through the cockpit.  Music to my ears, baby!

“Sorry, I reduced the power to the acceleration compensators just a little bit and put it into the engines as we made the swing around. Don’t worry; we didn’t overstress,” Matt said.

Gavit looked ahead at the rest of the squadron as Pio-Tolis passed by Chris’ fighter. “No problem, looks like Chris is dropping back.”

“Okay, Gavit, be careful when we approach this one. We’ll be coming in at an odd angle compared to the others and we should reach it about the same time as Zithe and Rudjick, unless one of us deviates.”

Gavit examined the line of fighters. At the head of the pack, Pio-Tolis’ shields flashed like a strobe under the ice onslaught. Right behind her, Chris’ shields shimmered as the ion screens reformed around them. Fighters behind them fared better, shields sparking with only an occasional ice chunk collision. Soon he saw Zithe’s fighter. There was a sizable gap between him and the fighters ahead of and behind him, but Zithe and Gavit would come very close. “How far out will the others have to swing to correct course for the fourth waypoint?”

“Trust me. We’ll have one very strong lead on the way to four.”

“Good,” Gavit smiled as they proceeded back towards the ice rings and the waypoint.

Pio-Tolis raced straight through the waypoint before altering her course. Fighting her previous momentum, she swung around to put herself on course for the next, with several others following her.

“This is going to be close,” Gavit said between clenched teeth as his and Zithe’s fighters rushed towards the waypoint ahead. “One Zero, slide to starboard a little for me. Unless you want us both to go bouncing across the system.”

“Copy that, Six. Slide up a little for us too,” Rudjick replied, their fighter sliding aside.

Gavit smiled.  Zithe has nothing to prove in this race.  He pulled up on his throttle a hair and slid their fighter up a few metra, but not enough to risk missing the waypoint.  The two fighters passed by each other, their EMT fields crackling as they came within a few metra of one another.

“Little bit close there, Six,” Zithe growled.

“Sorry, it’s the showman in me,” Gavit replied cents before he shot through the bottom of the ice field towards the fourth waypoint, a spinning ring of rock hanging below the elliptic. Taking note of its position, Gavit cut their engines and let momentum carry them. “We’re going to have to slow down before we get there.”

“Timing and energy management is everything on this one. Too fast and we have too far to go to recover, too slow, and we have to fight to get the lead back. Come in at the wrong time, and we’ll have to swing around to get through. If you hold this course and speed and fire a breaking thruster right before we get there, we should get through, no problem,” Matt announced, soothing his pilot’s worries.

“Just plot me a course,” Gavit replied, watching the flipping ring of rock. Pulling back on the stick just a bit, he was able to look up at the others when the first of them emerged from the ice field. The former racer let out a silent cheer at his commanding lead.

“Two more degrees up, five to port, and roll three starboard,” Matt ordered.

“What?” Gavit asked.

“Adjust the course now and we’ll use the ventral thrusters to slow our approach and put us on vector towards the next waypoint.”

“Okay, correcting,” Gavit replied, making the prescribed adjustments to their relative heading. “If not for the S.I.S, I wouldn’t be able to see where we’re going,” Gavit commented, looking down through the floor of the cockpit towards the waypoint. “It’s even better than Uncle Toran described.”

“Yeah, but your view is still obstructed; mine isn’t,” Matt announced with a smile on his near comatose face. “When you can see through the ring towards the next waypoint, gun the throttle full open. I’ll handle the ventral thrusters.”

The fighter continued to drift towards the next objective.  The lack of anything to do drove Gavit to distraction.  Looking up at the rest of the squadron didn’t help.  His lead shrank with every moment as the other fighters, backlit by the glow of their engine exhausts, closed on his. Looking down, he stared at the growing ring and fingered the controls, eager to increase his lead before the rest of the squadron caught up.

“Patience, Gavit,” Matt soothed, and a hologram opened up, displaying Gavit’s heart rates and respiration. “If you jump the gun, we’ll lose the race. Trust me on this one. I’ve got it all well in hand.”

Gavit removed his hands from the controls and set them in his lap.  Please don’t let me regret trusting you like this.

“Okay, we’re closing on the ring,” Matt announced moments later. “Preparing to fire braking thruster.”

Gavit latched onto the controls, his eyes hungry.

“Firing thrusters in, five, four, three, two, one.”

The fighter bucked as the thrusters flared, slowing them. As they cut out, Gavit spotted the top of the ring spinning towards them.

“Damn, I miscalculated,” Matt snapped. “Gavit, nose down. Punch the thrusters and pitch up when we’re clear.”

“On it,” Gavit responded, forcing the nose down before punching the throttle full open. He dove through the ring, then pitched back up, smashing the afterburner switch with his thumb. Fighting off the last of their momentum, the fighter came to a momentary stop inside the ring, then shot out towards the fifth waypoint.

The ring rotated up just in time to catch the tail end of their shields and jostle the fighter as it raced away, engine exhaust burning a pair of gouges in the surface of the rock.

“That was a little close there, Matt.”

“What can I say, it’s the showman in me,” Matt replied with a false smile as they left the ring behind. “We’ve got a strong lead. The others will be hard pressed to catch up to us now.”

“Let’s make sure of that,” Gavit declared, forcing the throttle all the way to the stops as he raced along the navigational route to the next waypoint.

“Six, Three, you’re making us look bad, guys, what’s the deal?” Arion asked with a chuckle.

“Hey, I was a pro racer. I have a reputation to maintain, no way can I let you slouches beat me!”

“Shut it, Six. The race isn’t over yet. You have one more waypoint after the one you’re headed for and it’s on the other side of the planet, in atmosphere. It’s anybody’s race now,” Pio-Tolis snapped.

Gavit smiled at the obvious annoyance in her voice.  I’ll bet she hasn’t had a cadet outpace her like this in annura. “Yes, ma’am.” He shifted in his seat to look back at Matt. “What do you think?”

“This next waypoint is forcing us into the complete opposite direction that we need to in order to get to the final objective. We can’t slingshot. There’s nothing with enough mass anywhere close by and the atmosphere will slow us down too. The best I can think is to put us in a high speed parabolic orbit then atmosphere dive onto the point.”

Gavit studied the display, trying to find some better course. “That’ll take the better part of a Hectapulse.” He twisted the hologram about and tapped one of the nearest moons. “What if we slipstream to the other side of the planet? Or slide around the gravity well?”

“No good,” Matt remarked, his head shaking under the shroud. “A standard fighter’s Slipstream Drive isn’t precise enough for that kind of maneuver. Give me a bomber or a corvette and we could, no problem. The best we can do now is slipstream around one of the moons and back. Even that is more risk than I want to take. I bet Gokhead will, though. I’ve seen some of his slipstream plots, they’re insane.”

Gavit did not look forward to waiting for the better part of a hect. “Okay, program the fastest route. Then load up some cards to give us something to do on the trip.”

Optimus Teg, Monstero Nach 08

From the back of the pack, Chris stared at Gavit’s dwindling fighter with the kind of contempt that she reserved for bitter enemies.  Ex-pro or not, there is no way I am going to lose to him. “Bichard, where is that vector taking Gavit and Matt?”

“High speed parabolic course into the atmosphere over the last waypoint,” Bichard returned, plotting the course on Chris’ navigation screen.

The lack of hum and click in his computerized voice still disturbed her, though not as much as it had first done. “Is there any way we can beat it from our current position?” Chris asked as she slid past MN-02 giving Trevis and Telsh a thumbs-up.

“Remote chance, but it is very risky.”

Chris tensed as she dove through the ring to the next waypoint, and turned back towards Gavit, gunning the throttle. “Mind elaborating?”

“I can slipstream around the fourth moon and back to this point above the clouds,” Bichard commented, putting the proposed course on Chris’s display.

Chris studied the screen. “Can you take us through a course like that?”

“It will require my full concentration, but it is possible. It is the only safe slipstream route available that will give us a chance to win. Even then, we won’t be able to go full throttle. With luck, we’ll just barely beat Gavit.”

Chris eyed Gavit’s exhaust flares in the distance, her determination to bruise his ego growing. “Even better! I’d hate to have him miss who beat him. He’ll crap his pants when we drop out of slipstream right on top of ‘em.”

Optimus Teg, Monstero Nach 06

Deactivating the card game projected onto Gavit’s Helmet Display Matt announced, “We are approaching the atmospheric insertion point, Gavit.”

Gavit grabbed hold of his controls. “Just as I’m about to win this hand? You cheat so bad, Matt.”

“I do not cheat. I just tell the truth,” Matt replied, a smirk visible on his face through the clear face of his helmet.

Gavit brought the approach corridor up on his HUD and checked the list to his right. Several tail numbers were absent. “Any sign of the others who tried to slipstream yet?”

“Acknit seems to have miss-plotted their course.  He must still not be used to the fighter’s slipstream drive.  He and Mikle came out at the wrong null point. They’re about twenty pulses out and they’re further than the rest who tried a normal course. Still no sign of Zero Eight on the combat scanners. They must not be back on the return trip yet. Roilin royally messed up, and they lost their primary slipstream drive. They’ll have to bring it home on the backup. Still no sign of Pio-Tolis either, but if the course I weaved out of her computer is correct, she should be here any time now. She has a damn good WSO.”

“Only thing he has on you is experience,” Gavit replied, as a fast moving blip appeared on his sensor sphere. “Speaking of which, here she comes.”

“Dive, Gavit, Dive!” Matt screamed from the back seat, almost coming out from beneath the shroud. “They’re coming in right on top of us.”

Gavit slammed the stick forward and pressed the throttle down. They dove towards atmosphere as he hammered the throttle to the stops. The fighter streaked into the atmosphere cents ahead of a Splicer 5000 reverting from slipstream only metra from where Gavit and Matt's course would have placed them. Without so much as a moment to get their bearings, the other pilot inverted their fighter and lunged for the planet below. Streaking past, Gavit spotted the distinctive paint scheme of their squadron, NM-08 painted upon its tail.

Gavit punched the afterburner and dove for the last waypoint. “That was Chris!”

“Damn, Bichard must not have bled off all their speed. He really knows what he’s doing,” Matt bit out. “I’m pouring everything we have into the engines and dive shield, Gavit, so move!”

Gavit’s thumb ached as he held down the afterburner control.  There is no way Chris is winning, not when we’re this close.  “That’s what I’m doing!”  The atmosphere beat against his dive shield as he began to narrow the gap.  “Eight, Six, are you crazy, Chris?”

“No, not crazy. I just have one Sheol of a great WSO,” Chris replied, her engines flaring.

“You and your WSO seem to forget one thing,” Matt replied, working the fighter’s systems. “The faster you hit the atmosphere the more drag you produce and the more your dive shield will pancake to try to slow you. Gavit, go! The dive shield is configured.”

Gavit tickled the afterburner once more. “Catch us if you can, Chris!”

Gavit smiled at his shield display, where Matt had reconfigured the dive shield, gravitational deflectors, and de-grav generators into a flat shockwave riding shape to help propel the fighter.

Perspiration dripped in his eyes. He hadn’t felt this stressed in a race since his last professional go. “Matt, I’m not sure we’ll be able to beat them. They have too much momentum.”

“It’ll be tight, just keep on that afterburner. I’m shunting every erg of additional power I can squeeze to the engines.”

The two fighters raced onward through the hydrogen-sulfur atmosphere, the gap between them closing.  Gavit searched for a way to get around Chris as she maintained her shrinking lead, but they were in open atmosphere now.  Sweat stung at his eyes.  He caught flares of burning atmosphere behind Chris in his peripheral vision.  The heat radiating from their dive shields and engine exhausts ignited the hydrogen-choked air behind them.  I bet we’re quite the sight, each of us with a tail of fire behind us.

The atmosphere thickened as they descended, until they dove into an inversion layer and streaked clear of the thick hydrogen clouds, revealing the final waypoint, an imaginary point programmed into their computers.  Imaginary or not, we’re close.

The two fighters tore through the densening atmosphere cockpit to cockpit. Gavit had to resist the urge to look up at Chris, focusing all his attention on the course ahead. Unwilling to back down, he considered an old trick his uncle had once told him about. “Matt, on my signal, pulse all power into the engines. Shields, weapons, life support, everything.”

“I got you. Ready.”

I have to time this perfectly, or we’ll end up powerless.  Gritting his teeth, he prepared to give the order.  He blinked to get a drop of sweat from his eyes and to his utter shock a single craft streaked through the atmosphere.  No more than a blur, it blasted through the waypoint before streaking back towards the starlit sky above the dark orange world.

Before Gavit could react, a single message appeared on his HUD. “UCSBA-13-000 winner.”

Stunned, Gavit’s grip on his throttle loosened and his fighter drifted through the waypoint side by side with Chris. Dumbfounded, he eased up on the throttle and made for orbit alongside Chris. Still in shock, Gavit reentered the thick clouds. “How did she do that?”

“Like I said, she has one Sheol of a WSO,” Matt replied. “The flight plan I weaved out was a phony. He rode their slipstream drive right through the damned waypoint.”

Gavit scoured his memory. Did uncle Toran ever mention anything like that?  “I didn’t think that was possible.”  A glint of light caught his eye and he looked over to find Chris staring back at him, her face unreadable behind the silicasteel visor at this distance.  I wish I could see the look on your face right now.

“It’s a very advanced trick. I wish I could do it. You have to be a master of the slipstream drive to even attempt it. That is fragging dangerous. I’m not sure I would ever try it unless lives depended on it.”

“It’s no trick, cadet,” Commander Pio-Tolis commented, her helmeted head appearing in the communication’s screen, her WSO smiling away behind her. “You will quickly learn, flying with me, that the simulators are wrong. They are programmed using numbers and figures supplied by the manufacturer. Only in the real thing can you discover what a fighter can really do. What we just demonstrated is quite easy once you learn how, though wasteful of energy. You will learn to do it; that and other things Splicer Corps says can’t be done.”

“It’s been a very long time since we had to work that hard to win, though,” Gord Brough, Commander Pio-Tolis’ WSO, commented through the shroud.  “Six, Eight you are very good flight crews.”

“Lead, Eight, thank you sir, I’m just glad someone could put Gavit down a notch,” Chris replied.

“Form up, you two. Your fuel readings are getting too low for my tastes. Put yourselves in a parking orbit with us, and we’ll wait for the others.”

UCSBA-13, Monstero Nach 06

Fuel conservation was the furthest thing from Gavit’s mind during the race, and the state of his fuel bladders was proof of that.  Their hydrogen scoops had been disabled on this flight, in fact, on Pio-Tolis’ orders.  Too many cadets had damaged their intakes during the final atmosphere dive in the past, because they’d failed to close them.  As a result, his and Chris’ fighters would be the first to land, now that they’d returned home.  He approached the open end of the academy with ease, following the guide beacons to landing, careful not to overdo things in order to conserve the little fuel he had left.  I flew too well to get towed home.

“Shields?” Gavit called as the hangar loomed in front of them.

“Dispersed. Undercarriage?” Matt countered as the energy barrier faded away.

Gavit tapped the virtual soft button to lower the landing gear, and a thump echoed through the cockpit. “Deployed and locked. Master Arm Switch?”

“Safe. Vector?”

“On,” Gavit replied. Watching the velocity vector on his HUD, he held the approach path.

“Vector?” Matt repeated as they approached, keeping his pilot focused and on course.

Despite having landed his old fighter and this one countless times before, albeit in simulations, Gavit’s twin hearts still pounded as he crossed the threshold into the landing bay.  He always hated that. He should be coming down off the high of the race, not getting worked up again as the landing pad came into sharp focus.  Matt’s repeating his vector call didn’t help.  He fired thrusters with minute precision and settled onto the pad. He let out a sigh as the sound of magnetic clamps grabbing hold reverberated through the cockpit, and the pad dropped away. The cool darkness of the elevator shaft was a welcome relief, until the lights of the hangar shone through.

Reaching their level, Gavit taxied off the pad.  His hearts calmed as he headed towards the decontamination and defueling area.  He followed a technician, her jumpsuit hugging her butt, as she guided him into his parking slot.  I might have to ask her out again, I bet she’ll be impressed by how close I came to beating Pio-Tolis.  She wouldn’t see it through his helmet, but still he winked at her when he settled the craft back onto its skids before he commenced the shutdown checklist.

“Engines?” Matt called.

“Idle. Sensors?”

“Shut down.”

“Degrav generators?”

“Off. Engines?”

“One down,” Gavit replied, shutting down the first engine. He waited until the engine status bar dropped to half power than tapped the button to shut down the second engine. “Two down. Shroud?”

“Out,” Matt replied, his natural voice echoing through the cockpit for the first time since before they’d launched. “Life Support?”

“Check.”

“Computer and Navigation?”

“Check, and off, clear to open.”

Gavit reached for the canopy release, and his hand hovered at the lever.  He was reluctant to depart the craft, but with a sigh, he grabbed ahold and pulled.  With a hiss of compressed air, the canopy lifted open and maintenance technicians bounded onto the fighter.  As Gavit and Matt removed their helmets and breathed in their first lungfuls of station air, techs shuffled up with ladders.  Gavit scanned the deck and saw that cute tech with the light batons heading away to guide another craft.  Too bad.

Gavit climbed down from his fighter and ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. He couldn’t believe how good even the hangar air felt in it. He smiled at his WSO, as Matt climbed down, and gave him a quick hug. “Damn good job out there, buddy.”

“You too, come on.” Matt headed off towards Chris and Bichard, leaving their fighter covered with techs.

Gavit caught up a moment later and slid his hand out to Chris when she neared. “Damn good race, you two,” Gavit said as he shook Chris’ hand. “Looks like Pio-Tolis’ little stunt cooked your paint, though.”

Chris pointed back at Gavit’s fighter. “Yours too.”

Both crews looked back at their fighters and Gavit spotted the burnt sections on the spine of his fighter where Pio-Tolis’ firestorm had cooked through the rear of their shields.

“She is one Sheol of a pilot,” Chris went on.

“And I plan to add all her tricks to my own,” Gavit replied, watching the next two fighters descend the elevators to join them. “I never knew how right Uncle Toran was until now.”

“What’s that?” Chris asked, Gavit rarely speaking about his famous uncle who had helped design the Splicer-5000 and later becoming its first ace pilot.

“He said flying the Firehawk is like being the Firehawk. You’re not the pilot, you’re not the systems operator in the back seat, you are all three in one. If you don’t meld with it just right, it’ll chew you up and dump you as sure as anything.  You take that bird into the black and you become it.  After that, everything else doesn’t matter.”

Chris remained silent for a moment, just staring at Gavit, then shook it off and let a wicked smile meet her lips. “Right up until you get the enemy in your crosshairs, am I right?”

“Yeah, then you become a bird of prey, and nothing else can dare touch you,” Gavit replied as Blazer and Trevis taxied up.

UCSB DATE: 1001.372

Star System: Classified, Proving Grounds, Monstero Nach 03

Blazer swallowed hard as Trevis’ fighter dropped into one of the canyons snaking across this particular Proving Grounds asteroid. Just like they’d been briefed for this final exercise of the semester, the engines of the fighter flared twice, signaling him to proceed after two more orbits. With his orbit already programmed, Blazer took a moment to look around.

Off in the distance, the hull of the GFS Nosferat rested on the edge of the Proving Grounds.  The ship now served as a practice target for cadets since they’d captured it almost an annura before.  Memories of that battle came to mind as Blazer looked at it. Could I have saved those we lost?  He shook his head, casting his doubts aside.  No time for that now. Focus!

“Okay, Blazer, we’re clear for our run,” Arion called out from beneath the shroud, as they approached the scarred surface a second time. The rest of the squadron followed behind, awaiting their runs.

“On it,” Blazer replied and rolled the fighter over to bring the canyon into view. Blazer licked his drying lips as he stared at the gorge, fired his engines, and angled towards the open entry to the canyon.

He broke away from the others and eased the throttle forward, allowing the limited gravity of the massive crust chunk to pull him down. He smiled a little as he dropped within metra of the asteroid’s surface. The dark gray landscape and canyon ahead reminded him of flying in the canyon races back home. He’d never flown anything this advanced back then, of course. The abundance of information coming to him from his screens and holographic displays were in marked contrast to the minimal instrumentation of his old jet racer.

Rocketing down the desiccated riverbed of what had once been part of a living world, Blazer spied the lip of an ancient waterfall approaching.  Passing over the rocky shelf, he pushed his nose over to dive into the canyon.  Time to go to work.

Ancient, water-etched stone walls surrounded him, and Blazer tapped his afterburners twice. The plasma flow from his combined-cycle plasma turbines compressed to the fusion point at the outer thrust ring. A burst of force shoved him back in his seat as he signaled the next pilot in line. Blazer twisted his fighter through the first turn. This was not the canyon where he’d had his accident two annura before; this one had more surprises. He had flown it before, both in reality and simulation: he’d learned his lesson. He wouldn’t let himself get lax in the cockpit ever again.

“Bogies rising,” Arion called out, treating the drones like real enemy craft.

Blazer steadied himself while a series of red dots appeared on his sensor sphere and lit up his holographic HUD. His threat alert displays sprang to life, showing multiple turrets and a trio of targeting drones, but the drones were heading away from him. Blazer smiled as targeting boxes snapped to life around the contacts, displaying their types and distances.

“I see them, prioritize and assign.”

Color-codes shifted to reflect Arion’s targeting priorities. The turrets’ static nature and destructive potential made them the highest priority. Blazer grimaced at that. He’d have just one pass at those turrets in the canyon, but he also wanted a chance at the fleeing drones.

Taking a quick breath, Blazer angled his controls to line up the first turret in his sights and fingered the trigger. Low-powered practice rounds exploded from his wing mounted plaser cannons. Each turret’s protective EM shields lit up under the assault. The light show they put on was short lived, terminated by plasma rounds slamming into the rocky wall behind the turrets. Even at practice power, the plasma rounds flash-boiled the little water still trapped in the rock. The resulting tiny explosions tossed out a cloud of dirt and debris that slowly settled to the canyon floor. Blazer pressed on, engaging each turret in turn before twisting around to go after the drones.

The drones hugged the canyon walls, using outcroppings as natural cover to mask their presence. Blazer shook his head at the attempt, but his fighter’s sensors and WSO-enhanced computers saw the drones with ease. Eyes narrowed, Blazer lined up the first drone in his sights and pulled the trigger. Rounds splashed along its shields, disabling it, before he turned to the next and opened fire. This one maneuvered to avoid the rounds, to no avail. Unwilling to let it escape, Blazer opened fire again and disabled it, tearing up the side of canyon wall again in the process.

Guided by a clever pilot, the drone twisted about and fired into the canyon wall, creating a cloud of dust and debris to hide within. Visually obscured now, the drone raced away. When Blazer checked his sensor sphere, he found that scrambled as well.

Blazer bit back a curse as the dustcloud veiled the whole canyon. The cloud left him with no idea what dangers lay beyond. A moment later, Arion came through; a wireframe of the canyon walls appeared around Blazer using sensor data from before the cloud’s appearance. “Thanks big…”

“Blazer, Break Off!” Arion ordered.

Blazer pulled away from the canyon wall not a cent too soon and saw the skeletal frame of a long-destroyed bridge appear from out of the debris cloud. Blazer dared not take his eyes off his course to look, but he knew it had come far too close for comfort.

“Don’t get target-fixated, Blazer. I have a date later, and I don’t want to have maintenance deliver what’s left of me to her after scraping my entrails off the canyon walls.”

Blazer shook his head twice to remind himself of that very fact as he shot out of the debris cloud. The drone was just ahead. He lined up his shot and squeezed off two shots into it. “Sorry, fangs were dragging again.”

“Just keep them in your mouth,” Arion laughed, the chuckle making it into his flesh and blood body. “I have enough work to do back here, without having to keep reining you in.”

“You got it, buddy,” Blazer replied as he slid the fighter through the next turn in the canyon, and a land bridge came into view.

He stared at the stone structure for a moment. It was not unlike the one that had almost taken his life back in their first semester, and just like that one, it was not in the simulators.

Blazer would not let it control him, would not let fear paralyze him into making another mistake.  Nor would he let anyone else think his long-ago blunder still controlled his actions.  He angled up towards the rocky archway linking the two sides of the canyon.  The ghosts of my past are dead and gone, where they belong.  Nearing the bridge, he came as close as he dared to it.

The fighter skidded under the bridge with two metra to spare. The gravitational deflectors blinked at the distance, kicking the fighter down as he passed. Blazer smiled at that before he felt Arion kick the back of his seat.

“Knock that scrat off.  If Marda saw you do that, she’d roast us both.”

Blazer swallowed hard. She would have no compunction against beating him down for such a reckless maneuver. “I read you, what’s the status on our primary target?”

“We’re just entering torpedo range. Give me a clear line of sight, and it’s ours.”

“Clear line of sight, coming right up,” Blazer replied, banking the fighter through a bend in the gorge. The wireframe map hovering before him revealed their course, the red outline of the target a clear contrast to the yellow hues of the canyon. “Two more turns and you can let the sharks out.”

Blazer tore through the next two turns, acceleration forcing him back in his seat through each banked turn. Thrusters burned all across the fighter as he whipped the fighter about. Slamming his thumb down on the afterburner control kicked him back again as the additional thrust canceled out their previous momentum and threw them towards their objective.

The saucer-shaped port side hull of the GFS Bathory hung at the exit to the gorge, a mockery of what it once was.  The pitted hull still bore battle scars from the previous annura,  scorch marks from where it had blasted loose from the rest of the ship marring most of its surface.  It hung there before them, grafted onto the side of an old freighter providing power to its turrets as they swung about to engage the fighter.

Blazer slammed his throttle down as the first shot lit up space above him, the low-powered laser beam lighting the darkness where he’d been just a moment before. He punched the throttle forward, evading turret fire and looking for a safe approach vector. Four red dots appeared on his sensor sphere a moment before the targeting boxes lit up his HUD. Blazer slid his fighter up against the wall as he watched the four fighters angle towards him. The smooth arrowhead lines of the targeting drones were invisible beneath their holographic masks, disguising them as four cranked-arrow winged Tiger Cat Fighters rushing towards him. Twisting his fighter about for a firing solution, g-forces keeping him seated, he fired into the wall ahead of the fighters. The resulting cloud of dust and debris filled his sensor sphere with static, but it would obscure his fighter even more on theirs. “Arion, get me a missile firing solution on those fighters, then lock both sharks on target. I’ll try and keep them off us.”

Blazer’s breaths came in short bursts as targeting boxes on the fighters flickered for a moment as Arion set to work, his concentration wavering for a moment. “Already on it,” Arion relayed as one of the targeting boxes slid into the wireframe of the canyon wall and disappeared. Lock diamonds appeared around the remaining three craft as their SAM-271 silhouette-seeking missiles locked onto them. “I can confirm the trail fighter is down. Missiles locked onto the other three. Fire at your ready, I’m setting up the sharks to launch soon as those bogies are clear.”

Blazer glanced at the targeting solutions displayed alongside the lock diamonds.  The missile seekers built as complete a sensor silhouette of the fighters as they could, to prevent spoofing.  The solutions read better than 80%.  Best we’re going to get without seeing their rears.

Blazer flipped up the cover on his missile trigger and fired another burst of plaser fire into the cloud to distract the fighters.  He slid his fighter back towards the center of the canyon and smashed his thumb onto the missile launch button. A series of thumps echoed up through the fuselage as three missiles kicked out of their launchers behind him. Their engines lit an instant later, and all three rocketed away.

Blazer glanced down at the plumes of fire that pushed the missiles away before an alert shone on his HUD. Ripping his eyes away, he pulled up hard on the stick and throttle to avoid a barrage of laser fire from the fighters and from turrets on the destroyer hull ahead of him. He grunted as he flipped the fighter over, just shy of the canyon lip, and dove towards the canyon floor to set up a new evasion pattern.

Looking up, he spotted the fighters emerging from the dust cloud. The three missiles bore down on them, relentless killing machines. No explosions marked the missiles hitting their targets, but one by one, the fighters disappeared from his sensors. The first two went inert as the training missiles streaked past the drones within the simulated warheads’ kill zones, but the third missile hit the drone square in the nose. It speared the arrowhead-shaped craft and sent it tumbling into the canyon wall. Its fuel bladders ruptured under the impact and a silent explosion marked its permanent end.

Blazer stared at the explosion for a moment in shock.  Don’t tell me we’ll get maintenance duty for that.  Another alert lit up his screen. Back on task, he slid away just as another laser blast occupied the space where he otherwise would have been.

Blazer gunned his throttle and dove into the dust cloud. Debris blinded his sensors for a moment until they exploded out the other end, and the target loomed before them. Laser fire from point defense turrets lit up the canyon. Blazer danced the fighter about through the hail of coherent light, each maneuver threatening to throw him from his seat. Sweat dripped from his brow as a blast scorched his shields, stripping away 10% of his protective ion cloud.

“Anytime now, Arion,” he said between clenched teeth and dove for the canyon floor again.

“Be a lot faster if you kept us steady for a cent.”

“Be a lot deader too.”

Blazer dove into a hole in the point defense net and held the fighter steady for just a moment, until a loud bang reverberated through the cockpit to mark the launch of the first shark. The fighter jerked back in response to the mass shift. Blazer caught only a glimpse of the torpedo before it disappeared into the darkness. A moment later the second shark roared free of its launch tube and Blazer pulled back, rolling the fighter over to watch as the jagged atmospheric control fins of the torpedo popped out. The torpedo streaked away with no visible exhaust trail, propelled by an advanced gravitational drive that, while stealthy, was not robust enough for use on larger craft.

From underneath the shroud, Arion guided both torpedoes towards their target. He weaved them through the defensive fire of the destroyer, while Blazer did the same with their fighter. The two torpedoes separated as they raced ahead, trying to make sure at least one made it through. As they neared the Bathory, Arion pumped all available power into their engines, plunging them into the hulk.

Both torpedoes jerked to a sudden halt as they neared the hulk, held suspended in the sky above it. The fighter’s computer registered hits for both weapons as gravitational deflectors and grappler beams held them in place only a few metra above the heavy turrets they were about to strike. Their engines shut down a moment later, and grappler beams towed them into the freighter the Bathory hull chunk sat grafted to.

Blazer smiled, as point defense lasers shut down, and flew in low over the hull of their target. He couldn’t help it, performing a victory roll as he did so. It wasn’t something he would do most flights, but after all the dancing around he’d just done, he felt that they deserved it.

A new course appeared on his HUD a moment later, and Blazer climbed their fighter high above the shattered chunk of planet that made up the Proving Grounds. He slid into an orbit with Trevis and Telsh that crossed that of the other fighters waiting to commence their runs. The pair flew inverted over the asteroid, looking up through their canopies to watch the rest of the squadron.

“That be a nice run,” Telsh’s voice chimed in over the link. “Almost be putting ours to shame.”

“Long as it gets the job done.  We take any hits in there Arion?”

“We were a little closer when we launched than I would have liked. That cost us a quarter of our shields to defensive fire, but I’m not showing any damage. I could have launched sooner, but someone decided to throw up a dirt screen first.”

Blazer just smiled as he looked back at the target area. Grappler beams lit up the canyon as they reset the drones and cleared their torpedoes and missiles away. A new drone emerged from the freighter to replace the one they’d destroyed. He watched the dust of the walls slowly settling to the canyon floor below, but too slowly.  He was about say something when he spotted the grapplers turn their focus on the cloud and force it to the canyon floor.  “Sorry about that, just glad they can clean it up in time for the next fighter.”   As they crossed over the lip of the asteroid and the canyon disappeared from view, he thought of something else.  “Any idea if we get into some kind of trouble for destroying that drone?”

“No, you won’t be,” Trevis replied. “Regulations be clear, that accidental destruction of target drones be considered acceptable losses, so long as they not be excessive. Even then, the operators and instructors be held liable first.”

Blazer felt relieved that he hadn’t just earned another round of service to Chief Flind.  Not that he would mind that so much; he still helped out in the hangar whenever he could.  He just didn’t want to be forced to it, not with their training schedule.  I shouldn’t have taken such risks in the canyon, I can’t afford to let the team down again.  As their orbit brought them back to the upper side of the crust again, he cast those thoughts aside to watch the next squadron member make their torpedo run on the destroyer.

Inside half a hect, the whole of the squadron had completed their runs, with the exception of Gavit and Matt.  That pair had ceded their normal position in the queue to fly last, without explanation.  That was the topic of conversation now running through the squadron as they orbited the Proving Grounds and Gavit’s fighter neared the torpedo run.  Pulling into their slot position at the rear of the formation, Mikle had his own theory about why and was not afraid to share it with the rest. “I bet he just wants to show us all up. He thinks he’s really hot in the Firehawk, since his uncle helped design it.”

Commander Pio-Tolis took the lead position in the formation this cycle as Tadeh Qudas oversaw another Special Operations team’s training mission. “I doubt that, cadet, after the stunt he pulled at the tender earlier. The emergency combat breakaway those two demonstrated, without my permission, stressed their docking arm and almost broke one of the six docking latches.”

It was an uncharacteristic move on Gavit’s part.  While he sometimes liked to play the part of a hotheaded playboy pilot, he was anything but that, in the cockpit most of all.  Ever since they’d started flying the Splicer 5000, though, he kept pushing himself and his craft to their limits.  Matt let him get away with it far more than he should. I’m going to have to have a talk with them about that, Blazer thought.

As the orbit brought them back to the “surface side” of the asteroid, Gavit and Matt’s fighter made a final turn to begin their attack run. Everyone turned to watch, with WSOs getting front row seats in their network from Matt’s telemetry and Arion projecting the run onto Blazer’s lap for easier viewing.

Fire erupted from all four of the fighter’s fixed guns, Gavit pouring plaser and bio cannon rounds into the drones.  The flex-mounted Narfic cannons beneath the cockpit soon joined in.  Twin lightning bolts bridged the gap between the fighter and the drones, ripping through the drones’ electrical systems and disabling them.  Faster than Blazer would have thought possible, they shot down all four drones, with guns alone and at extreme range.  No one else even attempted something like that.

Arion whistled from beneath the shroud and sent Blazer an image of Gavit’s weapons display. “Matt’s locking all twelve of their missiles and both torpedoes onto the target.”

“A barrage burst?” Blazer asked.  We haven’t tried that outside the sims, yet.

Blazer turned back to the hologram, Gavit’s fighter hugging the canyon floor.  His defensive flying was a work of art and he seemed to dare the weapon’s fire to hit him before rocketing free of the canyon a thousand metra from the target, all weapons still in their launchers. The fighter lurched a moment later as it disgorged all fourteen of its warheads. The force of the launch tossed the fighter up and back before Gavit rocketed away, afterburners glowing like two miniature suns within their thrust rings.

The Bathory’s turrets elevated to follow the fleeing fighter, ignoring the warheads streaking towards the ship’s midline. Looking back on it, Blazer could see that the automated guns had no chance to catch the lightened craft. Their programming couldn’t compensate for the higher than normal acceleration.

Unimpeded by the distracted turrets, the fourteen missiles crashed into the gravitational deflectors and grapplers protecting the hull of the ship. The shields managed to hold back most of the warheads but it wasn’t set to overcome so many at once, and the last two missiles penetrated the force wall. The two weapons slammed full speed into the side of the Bathory, shattering on impact. Blazer almost jumped in his seat when their engines exploded and opened two new holes, for real, in the hull of the devastated craft.

The link remained silent for a long moment as Gavit climbed to join the rest of the squadron.

Matt soon broke the silence, patching the fighter’s internal comms into the link. “Shields are depleted by half, reading 15% armor loss on our rear off the simulated shockwave. No function loss to any systems. Am replenishing and rebalancing shields to compensate and we are good to go,” he announced, pumping more ions into the weakened shields and spreading out the remaining ions to cover any gaps left by the shockwave dispersing them.

“And that is how a Markus kills Geffers,” Gavit growled.

Commander Pio-Tolis made no attempt to hide the anger in her voice as she snapped back at Gavit over the link. “Cadet’s Markus and Talkerna, that was a completely unacceptable risk you just took. That little stunt of yours could have gotten you both killed.”

“But it didn’t, ma’am.  My uncle taught me how to fly, in and out of combat, and it was maneuvers like that that made him a hero.”

“It was also one of his famous maneuvers that got him killed.”

The normal background buzz of link traffic went silent in response.

Blazer couldn’t even begin to imagine what was going through Gavit’s mind in that moment.  He looked down at the Bathory.  They’d lost their first squadron leader in the battle which had claimed that ship.  Seri’s cries for help still rang in his ears as he gazed down at it.  He looked back at Gavit’s fighter. Gavit had taken Seri’s loss the hardest of all of them.  Did seeing this ship again override his judgment, or was this show of bravado no different from what I did at the land bridge?

“The maneuver didn’t kill him,” Gavit growled. “Bad intel did, bad intel and a compromised design,” he continued. Unlike the craft they flew now, the first Splicer 5000 squadrons, including Toran Markus’ squadron, had flown the Engineering Development Model, not the final production craft. “I won’t take any more unnecessary risks, ma’am. I just had to get something out of my system.”

Matt transmitted an image to the rest of the squadron. It was of one of the missiles that had impacted the hull, a bouquet of flowers painted on it, with Seri’s name wrapped around them.

Everyone was silent for a long moment.  Gavit couldn’t have pulled this off on his own. He had to have had help from some deck hands, or at least our squadron crew chief.  Shaking his head, Blazer turned off the image and looked back towards the academy.  Pio-Tolis would have words for people, when she got back, for allowing Gavit to orchestrate this memorial.

“All Units, this exercise is complete, return to base.”

UCSBA-13, Main Hangar

Never before had Blazer felt so glad that Pio-Tolis’ recovery area was on the opposite side of the hangar from his flight group.  Even if half the squadron still had to taxi around the ring of the hangar to get to their recovery area, she would stay with her fighter until she signed off on it. Then she would have to take one of maintenance carts around to them, giving him time to talk to Gavit.

The moment his fighter came to rest, Blazer powered it down as fast as he could and opened the canopy. He had to be the first one to talk to Gavit and address his actions at the Proving Grounds. Blazer jumped out of his fighter as Gavit pulled into the next recovery slot. He couldn’t help but tap his foot as he waited for Gavit to shut down and climb out of his craft.

Blazer stepped up to Gavit as he reached the deck, but he was ready for him. “Look, Blazer, Pio-Tolis already chewed me out on the way in, and I’m sure she has a Sheol of a lot more to say to me once she lands. So save it.”

Blazer took a step back. He hadn’t expected Gavit to go on the offensive. The response knocked the wind out of his sails, but taking a moment, he continued. “That was reckless as all get out. You could have been killed, you dip.”

Both men stood firm for a moment, until Blazer closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Did you just call me a dip?” Gavit asked, unable to mask his smile.

“Afraid so,” Blazer laughed.

Before either of them could say another word, Chris landed between them, having vaulted over Gavit’s fighter on the low gravity deck, and slapped Gavit hard enough to topple him back against his craft. “You asshole!” she screamed and slid closer to him. “That was my memorial missile for Seri!”

Blazer started forward to separate them, but Chris turned her wrathful gaze on him before he could complete the first step, her red hair tail whipping back at him. “Chris, let me handle this.”

“No way,” she snapped and turned back to Gavit. “I had that missile painted special for Seri, you ass. What gave you right to fire it like that?”

Gavit rubbed his cheek.  “I asked.  You’ve been holding onto that thing since we began weapons training, and you have not once attempted to get it loaded.  It doesn’t do any good to just have it sitting around and I wasn’t about to let it go to waste. Not with the anniversary coming up.”

“Look who’s talking about letting things go to waste. You’ve been living like a man about to die ever since we were assigned our Firehawks. Just how many beings have you screwed the last two semesters, Gavit?”

“You’re one to talk! If the rumors I’ve heard are true, you’ve been experimenting with damn near every alien species with a dick since we started Special Ops training.”

Chris clenched her hand at her side, her arm trembling as she held it back. “I’m far more selective than you, Mister Markus. I don’t look for mere sexual compatibility in my partners.”

“Up yours, Chris! I let those rumors swirl for a reason, so no one knows what I’m really up to. I haven’t slept with even half the people they say. What about you?”

The pair stared at each other for a long moment.  Neither said a word as Blazer and Matt looked on, Matt still in his seat, others from the squadron filtering in around them.  I know that rumors of these two’s sexual exploits are spreading, but they’re false. There’s no way they could be true.  Still, the tension between them is getting thicker every cycle, and everyone’s getting sick of it.

“Will you two just get a room and screw already?” Matt asked, looking down at them.

“Shut up, Matt!” they both called back at him.

“Matt, zip it,” Blazer ordered and stepped between the pair. “Chris, it was you that had that missile painted?”

“Yeah, Treb sent me the design. I transferred it onto the training round a while back. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment to use it.”

Blazer nodded, realizing that the artwork did have Treb’s unique style to it. “Phantom Phunny?”

Chris nodded.

Phantom Phunny artwork still found its way onto the academy intraweave after Treb’s dismissal, and even some new helmets bore his mark.  Now I understand how. Chris and the others must be transferring the artwork using nano-sheets, for Treb, after he stitches them over from Zel-Tag.

Blazer turned to Gavit.  “It was Chris’ round to fire, not yours, and the stunt you pulled was reckless. I want whatever death wish is running through you two gone, you understand me?”

Gavit nodded. “I had to find some way to honor Seri. Plunging that missile into the hulk of the destroyer seemed the most fitting way.”

“Good. You are our best pilot, Gavit, and I don’t want to lose you or anyone else,” he went on, meeting the eyes of each of those who were gathered around. “Get yourself tightened back up.”

Gavit nodded and looked over at Chris. “I’m sorry. I should have told you first.”

“Damn straight, you should have!”

Before anyone else could say another word, Commander Pio-Tolis pulled up on a maintenance cart. Blazer broke away as Pio-Tolis slid with purpose out of her seat and marched straight for Gavit to give him the public chewing out she had been saving up the entire flight back.

UCSB DATE: 1001.378

Anul System, Anul, Heshin Mountains

“You never told me how your tests went,” Derjin commented, as the autocab whisked them up a dark mountain road.

Jell leaned back in her seat, stretching, her stomach still full from their dinner.  I still can’t believe that he took me to Calden’s Steakhouse., That dinner had to have cost him half a decle’s pay.  Just what is he planning?  Sitting back up, she locked eyes with him.  “I aced them.  Of course.  Now, what do you have planned?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked in return.

Coy to the end, huh?  “I mean, everything this cycle?  Our ‘dates’ usually just involve something quick to eat then and a roll in the sheets, not much more.”

“Timing. You’ve been so busy studying lately that, we haven’t had a chance to do much. I haven’t even gotten to see you dancing with other guys to get me jealous for over a tridec.”

Jell smiled and leaned forward, allowing her dress to fall open and give him a view of her bra-encased bosom. “You mean worked up, don’t you? I think the last time I did that I got you excited like that, we nearly started a fire in the stock room, we made love so hard.”

“Okay! Let’s just say I missed you, then,” he responded, caressing her leg. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

“Really? Are you planning to do something special wherever it is that we’re going?”

“Very,” he replied with a wicked smile, and grabbing hold of her wrist, he pulled her towards him.

They met in a mad embrace, Derjin kissing her with more force then she’d felt in a long time.  The air in the car began to spark in response as they passed an electic charge between them.  Jell reached down to undo Derjin’s belt and cup his balls. Unable to contain herself, she slipped her hand into his pants. Much to her surprise, he pushed her away, electricity sparking between their exposed tongues. “What’s wrong?” she panted.

“We’re here,” he announced, and pointed beyond the car’s window out of the dome towards at the Overlook Inn.

It was all Jell could do not to laugh.  Remembering her efforts to stop Blazer and Marda from consummating their relationship at this very hotel brought her to the edge of hysterics, but she managed to hold back as Derjin slid his hand into the back of her pants and caressed her butt.  “This is wonderful,” she commented.  She then locked eyes with her sweetheart. “I will do such things to you.”

After drinks at the bar, the pair headed up to their room, where Jell sent Derjin to the bed while she slipped into the bathroom to change.  She took her time there, slipping out of her form figure-hugging dress and pulling out her a black lace negligee.  To say it was lace was a bit of a misnomer ; most of the outfit consisted of nothing but sheer silk just a shade darker than her own skin.  The small lace filigrees only just barely covered her nipples before dancing down like vines to cover her vestigial nipples before meeting at her crotch.  The backside was almost completely sheer and made no attempt to conceal her ass.

Once she was sure of how the negligee looked, she emerged. Derjin waited on the edge of the bed in his undershorts. She loved the sight of him that way, loved to look at his rippling muscles, and the hair on his chest filled her with excitement. She had trouble containing herself as she walked towards him, strutting with each step; twisting and turning to accentuate her body’s nicest features and entice him.

With each step, she watched his excitement grow. As she got to him, his excitement stood at full attention, poking out of his shorts. She straddled his lap and laid her arms across his shoulders before locking him in a passionate kiss. He returned the that kiss, and the pair fell back on the bed.

This makes it all worth it, she thought as they kissed and explored each other’s bodies.  To end my decle of horrid studies with Derjin like this.  I couldn’t ask for more.  She shook her head for a moment to cast thoughts of school and family aside, and Derjin took the moment to pull off her negligee, before rolling back onto on the bed and pulling off his shorts.

Electricity sparked between them, dancing out across the room as they made love. It arced between them every time they pulled apart and into the electrical appliances, feeding off the energy flowing back into and through them.

After several pulses, a knock came from the door.

“Ignore it,” Jell panted. She didn’t want to stop now, couldn’t take the interruption, not when she was so close to climax.

The knocking continued—and became got more insistent.

“Go away!” Derjin hollered over his shoulder with a pleasure pleasure-filled grunt.

The knocking intensified. The person outside pounded at the door, never saying a word.

“Fuck off!” Jell screamed, feeling her climax slipping away in frustration.

In response, the door burst open.  Twisting about on its hinges after the latch exploded, it slammed into the wall.  Derjin jumped off Jell and rushed into the center of the room to defend her.  Sure that something was wrong, Jell rolled off the bed to watch.  What kind of sick joke is this? Did Blazer find out we’re here and send some of his friends to stop us too?

She watched several men enter the room.  These were no friends of Blazer’s.   They were all older, the youngest in their early thirties by her guess.  A spirit orb hovered along with them, piquing her interest.  How did it make it past the orb shield?

Derjin did not take kindly to their assault. He threw out a tazing charge at the first man to enter the room. The lightning bolt jumped from his hand and slammed into the man’s chest. He just shrugged it off. Both Jell and Derjin could only stare at that.

That charge should have knocked him flat.

Then the man cocked his hand back and threw out a lightning bolt of his own.  The blast caught Derjin in the chest and sent him tumbling back into the wall, twitching from the powerful assault. A second man then stepped up and threw another bolt, and then a third approached and did the same. Jell’s mouth fell agape; their assailants were other all Energy Gatherers.  Oh my God, are they Electrolites? Her mind raced with questions about why that old cult of Energy Gatherers would come for her .Is it because of Kamden?  She’s long dead, and the Electrolites should be too!

She looked over at Derjin—he was suffering under the attack.  He couldn’t handle this much energy flowing into him, and the smell of charred flesh wafted off him.  She knew for some time that she was more powerful than him, but could even she take that kind of punishment?  I have to do something.

Jell bolted from cover, she didn’t care if she was naked, she had to save Derjin.  She threw her own lightning bolt at the trio, interrupting the circuit, and they turned to her.  That was when she recognized them.  I’ve seen those old guys around town and school. And him, he’s that creeper from the club that always tried to dance with me and the girls. Have they been following me, and I didn’t realize it?

These men couldn’t be her shadow.  They didn’t have the bearing of someone who’d been in the service.  She realizd that now wasn’t a great time to have ditched her shadow.    They were Electrolites, and they’d been following her, the cult not being dead after all.  Where are those damn shadows when I need them?

She looked up at the orb. “Why are you with these people? They’re Electrolites.”

The leader scoffed and leered at her.

Shame washed over Jell, a shame that she couldn’t recall ever feeling before.

“He’s with us, because he is us,” the leader said.

She looked back at the orb and it flashed images into her mind, images that stretched back over a millennium to the ancient times.  She couldn’t believe the images and feelings the orb shared with her.  This conglomeration of spirits was not just one person, but carried with it the memories and the essences of hundreds, maybe thousands of others, stretching all the way back to the first true Electrolite.  She felt each of them claw at her mind, pull at her spirit, imploring her to join them.  To her horror, the strongest voices boomed from her own family line.

She found herself in an ancient village filled with peasants and serfs. Looking through the eyes of the first Electrolite, she found them all enslaved by his power. He threw out lightning bolts at all those who opposed him. She felt him draw her in, enticing her to join them. In an instant, the orb let her experience the whole history of the Electrolites, their triumphs and failures, even Kamden’s death, even this moment.

It was almost too much to take in. She could only justbarely understand all that it was showing her. It didn’t sugarcoat anything. The orb’s final gift to her was Kamden Krain’s ultimate plan. Her grandmother had birthed the most powerful Energy Gatherer of the last generation with Jell’s father, Jorden Vaughnt. His pairing with her mother, Laresse, a multiplier, had created even more powerful Energy Gatherer children. If Jell possessed her mother’s gift as well as her father’s, her children could be the most powerful Energy Gatherers in history.

She stumbled back, breaking away from the memories, horrified by the imagery.  Looking up at the men, she decided to put her power to the test as never before.

Never reveal your secrets to someone who isn’t your friend, Jell thought and recalled one of the techniques the orb had just showed her. She clasped her hands together, focused her energy, and then pulled them apart, with a ball of lightning growing between them. She shot it out at the leader without warning. It slammed him in the chest and threw him into the hallway, the crack of the lightning deafening.

She turned a wicked smile on the next man, the club creeper.  He had tried to dance with her once, arcing as he approached to show that he too was an Energy Gatherer.  She didn’t hadn’t cared at the time, she had no eye for him.. But he did for her, now more than ever.  He threw a lightning bolt at her and she caught it, absorbing his power as she kept the link open, and surged the power back at him.  He was powerful but each time he shot energy back at her she felt the amount lessen.  He can’t stand against me!

She felt her power begin to wane, however.  After wasting it on Derjin, I’m not at a full charge—I’m screwed.  Glancing up, she saw what she had to do. She reached up with her left hand and shot a bolt into the light, then she reversed the flow from the inn’s power grid into herself. She surged it out at the man. He fell to the floor a moment later and the next three stepped up.

Following her example, they tapped into the power grid, drawing upon the fusion generator in the basement before unleashing their charges upon her. She did her best to keep on her feet, but even under this barrage she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to stand. She had never practiced with her abilities, and after the fighting with the first two and her intense love-making with Derjin, she was exhausted.

The tang of singed flesh stung her nose, and she felt herself burning out.  She absorbed and shunted away as much energy as she could, but it was too much.  Then she felt the opposite and her eyes went wide in terror.  They’re draining me!  The sudden shift was too much for her.

Before she knew it, she’d fallen to the floor. She’d never felt so weak. She had to fight even just to keep her eyes open. Holding on to consciousness, she turned to look at Derjin. He lay slumped against the wall, his breath coming in hoarse wheezes. She turned to her attackers once again as they stood over her and they hit her with their charges again. Everything went dark.

UCSB DATE: 1001.379

Hyperspace, En Route to the Heric System, Dropship-116

It was all Blazer could do just to keep his hearts calm, sitting as he was in the mission commander seat at the back of the cockpit as the team raced through hyperspace. It wasn’t that he doubted his flight crew—Mikle was a great hyperspace pilot and negotiated the maelstrom of hyperspace with ease—it was their destination.

Heric was a contested system.  For a full annura the UCSB and GF had battled for control of the resource-rich worlds populating it, with battle lines shifting multiple times a cycle.  Blazer reviewed the status of the system one last time.  The GF had broken a two-tridec-long stalemate with the introduction of a Barker class super carrier and its battlegroup.  They took three mining bases and our primary base of operations, including command staff.  Now we have to extract them from enemy custody.  Blazer shook his head. This rescue mission, even more than the others they’d conducted, would rely heavily on the skills of their three-man flight crew—Gavit, Mikle and Acknit.

“Nervous?” Acknit asked, his voice ringing through the internal comms.

Gavit looked back at their WSO sitting motionless, looking even more asleep than usual under the shroud. “I’m not used to making combat entries in a dropship. We usually sneak in.”

“Relax,” Mikle commented. The feel of the ship turning forced Blazer to look at the floor, hyperspace playing badly with his inner ear. “We’re coming in through a friendly jump point. Then we’ll slipstream in to right above the surface of the moon where they’re holding our officers.”

“Yeah, I know,” Blazer said.

Gavit cracked his neck as he sat beside Mikle. “Don’t worry boss, at that point it’s all me. Flying the rills doesn’t bother me.”

“We’ll be coming in hot, Gavit, and there’s no way to mask our approach. We’d burn out our ZKEPs if we even tried.” The Zero Kinetic Energy Pods in the spine of the craft served as emergency and stealth heat sinks, but their capacity was finite.

“Our slipstream course will take us close enough to the gas giant to throw pursuit long enough to get us to the moon,” Acknit commented. “Plus, we’ll launch two drones to draw them away as well.”

Blazer still didn’t like it. The plan made sense, but he knew Gavit had issues with flying such an unwieldy ship, compared to their fighters, into a contested system.

“We’re nearing the jump point,” Mikle called, checking his approach.

Gavit nodded and slipped his hands into place behind his duplicate controls, ready to assume command at a moment’s notice if evasive action became necessary.

“Attention, we are preparing to revert into normal space, all hands strap in. We will make for slipstream as soon as we are in-system,” Acknit announced over the loudspeaker.

“Acknit, query the jump buoy. Let’s see what kind of traffic is on the other side,” Blazer ordered, bringing weapons status up on his screen. Their four main turrets, small anti-personnel turrets, and their missile and torpedo load all shone blue.

A holographic sensor screen popped up beside him, showing the dispersal of craft on the other side of the jump point. A number of craft waited in the void, while a few smaller craft engaged in combat off in the distance.

Blazer studied the map. The image gave only sensor returns, no ship identifiers or silhouettes. “Acknit, why aren’t we getting any kind of IFF status on these readings?”

“Older type buoy, IFF is probably faulty, old codes. Don’t worry. Intel reports that the jump point is held by friendly forces.”

Mikle scoffed. “And we all know Intel is never wrong. Prepare to revert,” he announced.

“Hold that, we have a big ship preparing to enter the jump point,” Acknit called out.  “Damn, I wish this buoy would ID ships. That thing has a massive displacement, though. Sensors read it to be over a hundred thousand tons.”

“No problem. I can slip past it, probably just a supply freighter, those are some massive beasts,” Mikle replied, having grown up on such a ship. “Going for the point,” he continued, opening the throttle up a little more, and propelled the ship out the exit corridor.

Heric System, Jump Point 3, Dropship 116

A brief but blinding flash forced Blazer to avert his eyes as the dropship passed into normal space—the wash of hyperspace particles clinging to the dropship’s shields annihilating the sparse molecules they contacted as they fell back into the jump point. As the light cleared, the found a massive Galactic Federation Barker class fleet carrier racing towards them.

“I have the ship,” Gavit hollered, punching the throttle forward and driving the dropship away from the massive carrier. The hull of the giant ship blurred as they raced across its surface and they watched as it pushed its way into the jump point. Gavit guided them around the ship’s massive keel-mounted Razer cannon. As they came around it, a turret rivaling the size of their own craft came into view. The ship’s huge hyperplaser turrets were designed for ship-to-ship combat and he could have easily parked their craft in its shadow.

Blazer grunted under the g-forces as Gavit swung the dropship below the carrier, several massive turrets turning to track them. “I thought we controlled this jump point!”

“We must have lost control of it while in transit,” Acknit responded, his artificial voice over the comms too calm. “We’re surrounded. They have a full taskforce out there blockading the jump point. Fighters incoming!”

Blazer checked his sensor sphere and saw Gavit glance down at his own. “Copy that, give me a vector to the slipstream, or plot a jump out of here, quick,” Gavit commanded as he attempted to put some distance between them and the pack of fighters racing towards them.

“Can we still slipstream to the objective or find a friendly jump point?” Blazer asked, as the dropship’s superstructure creaked around them.

<Just shut up and hold on,> Gavit accidentally thought-sent.  <Let me do my job up here.>

Blazer decided to let that pass, the situation being stressful enough without having to dress down his senior pilot.  <Deactivate your micomm link,> served as his only reply.

“No intel on which points are ours now, but I have the slipstream entry plotted,” Acknit growled a moment later. “One problem, our best entry vector passes close to those frigates.”

Blazer looked at a trio of massive saucer-shaped frigates ahead and shook his head before opening up a tactical plot on his screen. Behind them lay the jump point back into hyperspace and beyond that a pair of destroyers, likely training their massive cannons on the jump point in case anything big came through. Above and below, anti-fighter corvettes hung in space, with missile lock alerts telling him that the enemy could fire on their dropship at any moment. To their immediate starboard and port, patrol fighters vectored towards them from light carriers. The frigates ahead of them hung arrayed around the slipstream entry vector Acknit had plotted. If they went to slipstream now, they risked colliding with any one of the three, even Gavit couldn’t thread the eye of that needle Their only saving grace was that the frigates had weapon systems designed to combat larger craft, not dropships like theirs, so the frigates could be easier to get past than any of the other hostiles.

“Wonderful,” Gavit hissed. “Making for the entry point, Acknit, Mikle on those guns, Blazer make yourself useful and help out, would you? The rest of you hold on down there,” Gavit called, whipping the massive dropship about.

“This isn’t a fighter, Gavit,” Chris managed to say from the main hold.

“It’s all on you, Gavit,” Blazer called as he set up their chin and anti-personnel turrets to track the incoming fighters.

Gavit clenched his teeth as he looked at the three dark ships ahead of him. “We’ll ruin our paint job, but yeah, I’m on it.”

“All right, then go for it. Acknit, try and get out a mission update over the link,” Blazer ordered.

“Okay,” Gavit replied and sped towards the trio of frigates, his engines at full power. “Acknit, cut power to the hyperspace shields and divert it to main engines and EMT. We’re going to need all the power we can get if those beam cannons light us up.”

“If I do that, it’ll take a least a hect to restart them. We’ll be trapped.”

“Trapped is better than dead, just get us onto that slipstream!”

Acknit did as commanded, diverting maintenance power from hyperspace shields to main engines. Blazer felt the little extra thrust that provided press him back into his seat, but knew that it also weakened their gravitational deflectors.

“Fighters are in range,” Mikle announced, aiming his heavy Plaser turrets at the incoming fighters. “Engaging,” he called, firing the massive guns at the craft. A double volley from two of the three big guns ripped through the first fighter’s shields and forward armor. The Solaar shattered under the onslaught, detonating its power core and dispersing its wingmen.

Blazer swung the chin turret and smaller anti-personnel turrets at the fighters as they approached from numerous angles. “Tracking multiple inbounds, they’re firing!”

The tuned main guns of the Solaar fired in an established pattern; the two heavy Plasers mounted atop the wings fired first, attempting to disrupt the dropship’s shields ahead of six hypervelocity slugs launched at the same point by the Solaar’s twin heavy mass drivers.

That combination battered at the dropship’s shields. The twin spinning toroids of magnetized particles caught and deflected two of the ferrous slugs. Four made it through, overpowered their gravitational deflectors, and tore into the hull, digging deep furrows in its armored back. The strike did little to alter their course, but the sound of wrenching metal stiffened Blazer’s neck with worry.

“We’re hit, but no breaches,” Acknit reported.

Blazer didn’t even nod as he tracked his turrets and opened fire on the fighter that had wounded them.  A lucky Plaser bolt pierced the ammunition drum of one of the fighter’s mass drivers, detonating the volatile contents. The resulting explosion vaporized the fighter.

Gavit twisted the dropship about, crushing Blazer back into his seat, as another Solaar dropped upon them. “Hold on!”

The rocket packs on the Solaar wings’ ventral surfaces spit their kinetic kill weapons at them. The rockets slammed into their shields at one percent of the speed of light and exploded in a torrent until Mikle fired his heavy plaser into the incoming fighter. The blast tore into the Solaar’s left rocket pack, detonating rockets still in their launchers and breaching fuel tanks in the wing. The fighter burst into a brilliant fireball, its momentum carrying it past the dropship as Gavit vectored back towards the slipstream entry point.

The dropship weaved back and forth as best Gavit could manage, while fighters gave chase, forcing him to evade their blasts. The shields endured a vicious pounding as they raced towards the slipstream entry. Imminent collapse threatened at any moment as Acknit put as much power into them as he could muster. Plasma bolts, mass driver rounds, and rockets lit up space around the dropship as it darted towards its escape. As they neared the frigates arrayed around the entry point, a new weapon came into play.

“Someone’s trying to hack our computers,” Acknit reported. “I’m up against some pretty serious barrier breakers here. They’ll be through my software firewalls in no time.”

“Gok, we need you on the flight deck,” Blazer called out. “Computer problems.”

“On my way,” Gokhead responded, releasing his harness. A moment later, the whine of the ascent line from the main bay filled the flight deck. Just as it breached the hatch the dropship was rocked downwards by a missile assault. Blazer didn’t even bother looking as the sound of armor against metal met his ears, too busy with the turrets.

“Gokhead, tell me you’re not dead,” Blazer snapped, his focus on the next fighter coming at them.

“Still alive,” he groaned and pushed off toward the cockpit’s empty fifth seat.

I wonder how much shock gel that cost him?

Gokhead fumbled his way into the seat and pulled the spare open-face WSO interface helmet free of its housing. Slipping it on, he assessed the situation and set to work as best he could manage. “They’re using high level barrier breakers. I’ll have a tough time of it, but I know some tricks to throw them off. I’m setting up more barriers and implanting false navigation data behind each one. If it works, they’ll assume the nav data they hack out is our true nav course and stop,” Gokhead reported, shaking his head. “As long as they keep trying, I’ll keep setting up barriers.”

“The fighters are breaking off,” Acknit reported a moment later, a note of relief in his voice.

“Oh, thank God,” Mikle responded, relaxing a bit.

Blazer breathed a sigh of relief then stared at the trio of saucer-shaped Corsica-class frigates ahead. “Don’t go thanking any deities yet. They broke off to stay out of the way. We’re about to enter the firing arcs of those beam turrets.”

The frigates floated in silence before their slipstream entry point, their dark gray and black hulls twisting Blazer’s stomach. Three beam cannons on each of their upper and lower hull domes glowed menacingly like the wicked eyes of some beast borne of his oldest nightmares. Wishing he could rub his eyes through the closed face of his combat helmet, he looked away from the red disk-shaped emitters, blinking hard.

“Acknit, plot a torpedo firing solution on the nearest frigate. If we can disable her beam cannons, we can use her as a shield,” Gavit ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

“On it, antimatter torpedoes locked on.”

“Fire when ready,” Gavit yelled.

“Torpedoes away!”

A spread of four SAW-240-HH antimatter torpedoes erupted from the outrigger cargo pods and raced ahead, three towards the lower beam turrets and the fourth towards the massive heat-radiating fin on the underside of the ship.  Blazer watched Acknit guide the torpedoes through a series of evasive maneuvers as the frigate’s point defense turrets opened fire.  Turret fire intercepted the lead torpedo moments before it could impact the shields, but the explosion blinded point defenses long enough to allow the second to splash against the shields, which convulsed under the explosive force of the detonating anti-matter warhead, throwing the projectors out of focus and disrupting the ion screen long enough to allow the last two torpedoes to slip through.

The third torpedo made a suicidal dive into the lower beam dome.  It speared the armored shell and drove deep into the heart of the weapons emplacement before exploding.  The number three beam emitter shattered under the onslaught.  Fire and atmosphere vented into space as internal plasma lines ruptured and tore down the dome, shattering the cap and destroying the hyperplaser turret mounted there.

Meanwhile the fourth torpedo dove towards the ship’s thermal radiation fin, the point defense turrets all but unable to engage the massive weapon as it drove in. A lucky blast caught the torpedo, shearing off half of its control thrusters, and sent it tumbling out of control. The blast came too late to prevent impact, however, and the torpedo slammed into the leading edge of the radiator fin. The detonation tore a mighty piece from the structure, severing key cooling lines from the ship. The shock of the explosion ruptured many more, shattering the interior superstructure enough to twist the fin about and almost tear it from its mountings.

“Good hits,” Mikle hollered.

“Energy spike,” Acknit warned.

Blazer looked up in disbelief. Fire poured out of multiple hull breaches along the shattered dome. “No way they could fire with that damage.”

Acknit shook his head. One of the remaining emitters on the lower dome brightened as it prepared to fire. “They are, though, and we’re targeted.”

“Shreg!” Gavit spat, hauling back on the stick to get out of the beam cannon’s firing arc.

The maneuver came too late, and a forty-metra wide plasma beam lanced out at them. In an instant, the beam speared the lower shield of the dropship. The impact tossed it around like a child’s toy and overloaded the energy barrier, dispersing the field of charged particles. The beam burned into the tail of the dropship cleaving a hole through the rear deck and destroying most of the door and lower engine array.

A brief howl of atmosphere escaping met Blazer’s ears through his helmet. The force of the expulsion shoved the dropship about, explosive decompression fracturing many of the cargo bay’s support frames. That blast had come at a cost to the frigate, however. Damage inflicted by their torpedoes had initiated massive failures all across the beam emplacement. The beam turret emitter burst, cleaving a crater in the side of the dome as the energy lance subsided.

“Gokhead, seal that helmet. We’re hulled!” Blazer called out moments before the interior of the dropship silenced, all its air vented into space.

Gavit fought to maintain control of the ship, the instant silence deafening. The rear attitude control thrusters were no more than a memory as he wrestled with the loss of multiple engines. “Damage report! Is everyone alive down there?”

“The EMT Field’s been scattered,” Acknit responded. “The lower rear gravitational deflector is gone, and magnetic containment on the EMT is offline as well. Along with half the main hatch and the main fuselage’s lower engine array.”

“Everyone’s still down here,” Zithe replied, relief evident in his voice.

“Rudjick’s injured! I’ve got erratic signs on him,” Marda reported.

The indicator for her seat latches went red, and Blazer held his breath.  She just slipped out of her harness to check on him. He activated the command link at his console and an image from her helmet camera lit up his screen. It showed Rudjick as she took a knee before the elf. His face was pale and sweat-soaked, his vitals dancing crazily to one side of his view.

“Oh, crap,” she exclaimed, as the view panned down. “His suit’s been breached,” she announced, tearing the suit repair kit out of one of Rudjick’s tactical vest’s numerous pockets with one hand while she clamped down on the breach with the other.

Blazer’s blood went cold.  Death to vacuum isn’t the way any warrior should die.

The indicator for Zithe’s harness went red as he unstrapped to join Marda. “How bad is he?”

The hum of Marda’s handheld medical scanner reverberated through the link. “He’ll live. His suit tried to seal off the affected area. His leg is going to be in bad shape. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t lose it.”

“Strap in, we’re running for the slipstream,” Gavit ordered.

He’s alive. Marda will do everything she can to keep him that way. Now if Gavit can get us out of here maybe we can link up with some friendlies and…

Gavit couldn’t wait for the pair’s harness locks to turn blue before he nosed over towards the entry point. He opened up the throttle, fighting his previous momentum vector as the maneuver pushed Blazer up out of his seat and into his harness. Engines screamed through the ship, structural damage stressing the craft close to the point of collapse.

Gavit visibly flinched at the protests of his ship as he pushed towards the entry point, the groaning of metal increasing with every cent.

Blazer’s eyes grew in horror as beam turrets on the other frigates lit up after they shot clear of the one that had crippled them.

“Acknit, I want to be able to slipstream out of here as soon as we’re in the clear!” Blazer hollered.

“No shreg, really?” Acknit muttered. The hum of the slipstream drive met Blazer’s feet as Acknit poured power into it and readjusted the alignment. “Slipstream is coming up now, everybody hold on.”

Mikle looked around the ship as it shuddered. “That does not sound good.”

Gavit stroked the throttle to mask his own apprehension. “It’ll be fine. She’ll hold together.” Another groan from the ship’s frame shook even his bones, and he did his best to keep his eyes on his heading. “Come on, you hunk of scrap, hold together,” he muttered.

“We’re almost on it. Damn, energy spike, third frigate,” Acknit called out and a beam cannon blast pierced the darkness.

The beam went wide as Gavit forced the ship down at Acknit’s call.  Nevertheless, the beam seared through what remained of the upper graviton deflectors and collapsed them. Even at a distance, the intensity of the energy lance proved enough to melt the now unprotected upper turret.

“We’re close enough, going to slipstream,” Acknit announced as the slipstream drive activated. The dropship’s effective mass shrank to less than any one of them and the drive attuned itself to the distant moon’s gravitational signature, forcing it to ‘fall’ through space towards it, ignoring inertia and every other world.

Blazer stared out the canopy for a moment, breathing a sigh of relief as he watched the universe race past the forward window.

A moment later, Gavit adjusted the attitude of the ship to face their direction of travel. “I hate slipstreaming sideways. We better check how bad things are down below.”

“Don’t bother,” Blazer replied as he undid his harness and floated free of his seat. “This mission is scrubbed. We have injured and the damage to the dropship is too severe, making hyperspace safely will be a challenge in and of itself,” Blazer reported, grabbing the handhold over his head. “Acknit get on the link and find us a ride out of here. We need to vacate the system ASAP.”

“Already working on it,” Acknit reported, frustration evident in his voice.

“And see about plotting us a safe course, too. We’re in no shape for a fight.”

Gokhead stole a look back through the hatch. “How bad are the injuries?”

Blazer checked everyone’s status over his command link. Other than elevated heart rates, most were fine, but a handful of problems were highlighted on several of them. “Rudjick is still out, and it looks like Marda broke her arm when we went to slipstream,” Blazer reported in an almost mechanical tone as he held onto Gokhead’s seat. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“I’ve gotten through,” Acknit reported before Gokhead could ask more.  “Damn!”  Acknit swore, accessing the local military intraweave, their high sublight making the data seem to trickle in.  “The system is under a full blockade.  The GF has captured all the jump points. There’s no word on when another taskforce will arrive. Frag me, if that’s not bad enough…”

Blazer shook his head, unsure how much worse the situation could get. “What?”

“The prisoners we were sent to rescue are on the move. Geffers are transporting them out of the system. There’s no way we can get to them now.”

“There is one,” Mikle announced, looking at his display. Everyone turned to look at him. “Are they heading towards the jump point we just came through?”

“The report wasn’t conclusive on that, why?”

Mikle pointed to an indicator on his console, a tiny gravitational anomaly racing towards them from the moon that was their original destination. “I think they’re heading towards us. If we can collapse their slipstream drive here,” he said, pointing to a point on their course where radiation from a local gas giant should mask any communications, “we might be able to board their ship and get them. The timing just works, but it means going to manual control in slipstream.”

Blazer read Gavit’s eyes as he considered the option. It was an unenviable decision. Their craft was crippled and could fail at any point. Their mission looked hopeless now, Mikle’s idea notwithstanding.

“It looks like the slipstream signature of a GalaxyMaster class dropship,” Acknit reported. “Intel said one of those was their transport out.”

“GMs are heavily armed. If they can fight back, we’re done for. No kidding. Now, can we actually do this?” Blazer asked.

Gokhead studied damage reports before replying. “In the shape we’re in, we run the risk of complete structural collapse should we attempt it. Plus, we have no idea what kind of enemy forces we’ll be dealing with onboard.”

Acknit shifted in his seat, the acceleration compensators whining more than usual in response.  “I think we can still hold together.  I’m pumping all the power we can spare into the acceleration compensators.  That should reinforce the superstructure enough to keep us from complete structural collapse. It’ll still be a risk though, especially with our injured.”

Blazer stared at the screens, a wry smile working its way onto his face. “It’s a long shot, but we probably can’t get away in this wreck. If we try this and it works, we might be able to get out the way we came in using their ship, not ours. I’m going to get everyone below ready, we’re going for it,” Blazer announced pushing off toward the descent line at the end of the passageway.

“He’s not serious, is he? Does he think we’re the Explosions?” Gavit asked, none of them having set foot on a GF craft since they’d assisted the Explosions in capturing the GFS Nosferat, an annura earlier.

Moments later, the Blade Force began to pile into the flight deck of the dropship. Blazer assisted Marda up and into one of the emergency shock seats. “Here’s the plan, priority seating. Gavit, I need your most precision piloting here, do you need a copilot?”

Gavit looked over the team as they floated about, Zithe strapping Rudjick into Blazer’s command seat. He looked first at Mikle, then to Chris. “Much as I hate to admit it, Chris, I need you.”

Chris grinned. “You and me teaming up? This should be interesting.”

“Just do what you need to do,” Blazer ordered before turning to Acknit. “I need you to focus all the acceleration compensators onto this compartment, let the rest of the ship go if you have to.”

Acknit nodded and turned to Gokhead. “Can you help me out with that?”

“Already on it,” Gokhead replied, still in the spare crew seat. “Let’s seal up the hatch and make sure we have our mission equipment. Bichard, can you pull out the comm unit for me?”

Bichard nodded and set to work on the panel above Gokhead’s seat.

Blazer turned to the others. “Find a good spot on the floor. Injured only in the shock seats or crew seats.”

Soon everything was as ready as it would get.  Along with the rest of the team, Blazer strapped himself down to the deck between crew seats as Gokhead and Acknit pumped as much energy into the acceleration compensators as they could, focusing their energy fields on the cockpit.  When the collision alarm sounded, Blazer looked up.  The GM was less than a light pulse away and invisible to him.  What was visible was the tension in his two pilots.  Both Gavit and Chris sat with their eyes caged on their HUDs, controls locked so that Gavit had vertical control and Chris lateral.  Neither touched their throttles, leaving that to the computer.  If we’re too fast there’s nothing the acceleration comps can do. Too slow and we miss the target.

It all happened so fast, Blazer could hardly believe it. He only sighted the other dropship for an instant, in the distance, before everything just seemed to stop. The sudden deceleration threw Blazer against his straps and his vision began to blur and gray out. Even the acceleration compensators couldn’t completely negate the effects of their sudden stop. Without air, he didn’t hear the shattering of the craft around them, but when he turned around, he spotted the telltale collapse of several structural members at the rear of the compartment. “What’s our status?”

“Dead in space,” Acknit replied. “But the contact is right there,” he continued, pointing out the forward viewport, before all onboard power cut out.

Blazer looked forward again and sure enough, there was a GalaxyMaster-IV dropship. The lights on the craft remained on, and from what he could see, the craft was intact. “Gotta hand it to them, they build a tough ship,” Blazer commented, noting that only one of the craft’s four defense turrets had broken loose in the collision. There appeared to be no activity aboard the craft, though, and zooming in with his enhanced optics he spotted a red smear on the bulbous canopy. “Looks like someone wasn’t strapped in.”

Blazer undid his improvised harness and turned towards the team.  Marda cradled her injured arm, and Rudjick was beginning to wake up after passing out when their dark energy field burst with the GM’s and they came to a stop. “Let’s move, we have no idea the condition of the enemy.”

“We have to move fast,” Gokhead reported, tapping the side of his helmet. “According to the radio fix I have on the jump buoy, we’re still moving at .1C towards it, that GalaxyMaster was moving a lot faster than us. We almost didn’t make it.”

Blazer didn’t want to think about that.  When he opened the hatch back into the main hold, he saw evidence of just how close they’d come to complete destruction.  The main hold had crumpled like a crushed can, with many of the lateral structural members now smashed up against one another.  Blazer felt a pit in his stomach at the sight, but spotting the breach in the rear fuselage, he pushed off towards it.  Reaching the hole, he pulled himself through and looked out.  The outrigger pods were gone, not crumpled or messed up, just gone, torn free during the sudden, suicidal deceleration.

Pulling himself out of that hole, Blazer found their remaining armor clinging in a fashion that reminded him of fish scales, each set lying partially atop the next. But he couldn’t allow himself to focus on that. Bringing up his magnetic grapple, he fired it at the enemy ship as it hung there, lifeless. The line struck home, clinging to the dorsal surface of the circular-faced rectangular craft, its sides tapering towards the midline. After affixing his end of the line to the buckled armored skin of their craft, Blazer snapped his ascent crawler to the line and allowed it to haul him across while Gokhead and Zithe followed suit behind him.

Blazer’s boots thumped through his suit as he landed against the surface of the GF dropship and motioned Gokhead ahead to the circular hatch. Hacking module in hand, Gokhead leapt clear of the line and jacked into the simple controls. He cracked the six-digit pin code locking it. The hatch irised open and the outward rush of air proved enough to push the ships apart and remove the limited slack in the line linking the two craft.

Gokhead slid into the cylindrical airlock, Blazer and Zithe hot on his heels.  As they entered the small airlock, made even more cramped by the bulk of their ACHES, Gokhead sealed the outer hatch and set to work on the interior panel. Blazer signaled their readiness, and Gokhead cycled the inner airlock.

Zithe pushed off the outer hatch to propel himself into the bay. Rifle at the ready, Zithe swept the bay to find only dead or unconscious guards floating about in null gravity. Twisting about, Zithe landed against the main deck with a soft thud. After scanning all around once more, he signaled for Blazer and Gokhead to follow him.

Trusting in his point man, Blazer pushed off towards the deck, Gokhead right behind him. The iris hatch snapped shut behind them with a metallic hiss. They landed on either side of the young Lycan and took up position, their weapons facing outwards as they circled the lower airlock hatch.

The prisoners are in shock seats; good, they should have survived the drop.

The upper hatch opened a moment later to reveal Chris, Marda, and Rudjick. A quick hand signal from Blazer sent them scrambling from the hatch and pushing off towards the prisoners. Blazer looked up for a moment as they drifted overhead, Rudjick still groggy and shaking his head to regain his senses. Marda floated beside him, her armored forearm hanging in a splint. Chris carried Marda’s medical kit as she flew past.

With another hiss of compressed air, the hatch cycled open again. This time Gavit, Mikle, and Acknit launched themselves out, coming to a landing inside the protective circle set up by the first fire team. They took a moment to get their bearings before vaulting towards the cockpit. The airlock cycled one more time, and Bichard skittered in with their communications unit strapped to his back, Arion and Matt trailing him as he crawled across the ceiling.

With the last members of his team aboard, Blazer set them to securing the ship. Gavit made short work of the cockpit and, after releasing the pilot from his restraints, he sent him and the bloodied co-pilot floating back into the bay. “Get those suits sealed up on the prisoners, and put the dead over on one of those big side hatches. Gokhead, what happened here?”

“Different safety system protocols. Their emergency reversion focused on maintaining the ship’s structural integrity but allowed g-loads inside to reach levels where anyone outside of a seat with additional acceleration compensators had to reach blackout levels.”

Blazer nodded and looked at the dead flight crew.  One had his skull caved in.  He really should have strapped in.  The other pilot’s face was a mess, a massive gash running across it. Either his harness had failed, or he didn’t have it on properly, so he’d gone face first into his console.  <Gavit, what’s the status up there?>

<Give us a few pulses, we have to clean up the mess.>

Blazer turned to Arion and Bichard as they finished cutting cargo netting from between the two side hatches.  Good, they have that in hand.  Satisfied, he pushed off towards Marda, where prisoners in their shock seats were stirring as her team assisted them into emergency vacuum suits.  We can’t waste any time. The longer we delay, the more suspicious the Geffers will get.

Marda placed a helmet on the last officer’s head and stole a look back at the enemy prisoners. “How many dead?”

“Most of them,” Blazer replied, with no more regard than he would about counting bolts. “The others are badly injured, but they should live,” he continued, watching Arion and Bichard gather the last two dead bodies into the nets. “How about our objectives here?”

“Banged up, but alive. It’s a good thing they were in shock seats. Even with that, we still have some injuries and blackouts.”

“Okay, then. Arion, decompress us and take them over to our ship. We’re in no condition to be holding prisoners.”

A look just shy of outrage in her eyes, Marda made to protest, but a twinge in her arm silenced her dispute before she could voice it.

“On it,” Arion replied and sent Gokhead to the door control panel.

Blazer flitted over to the cockpit.  Landing at the rear of the two-crewmember space, he grabbed a handhold.  For a brief moment the sound of air escaping the ship slithered past his helmet.  Steadying himself, he turned to find one of the massive side doors opening, Arion and his team ready to depart with their charges. Nodding, he turned back to the flight crew, Acknit elbow-deep in a wall panel as he sorted through the cables within, the communications set from their dropship sitting on the deck beside him.

<How much longer?> Blazer asked over the link as the forward left side door reached its fully open position, the ship shuddering around them.

Gavit pointed to Arion and the others as they fired their magnetic grapples at their old dropship, the GF crew wrapped up in cargo netting they’d stripped out from between the doors. <With Gokhead’s help, we should be ready before Arion and the others are back from dropping off their packages.>

<Good, now let’s just hope that no one at the blockade knows the crew,> Blazer responded, pushing off to help Arion and the others and giving voice to the concern he’d contemplated ever since settling on this course of action.

A hect later, the captured dropship reverted to its pulse drive only a few kilometra from where the Blade Force had escaped into slipstream earlier.  Surrounded by the same task force as before, Gavit guided the MG towards the jump point.  Sitting in a jump seat behind Gavit, Blazer’s pulse raced.  Any cent now, they could realize who we really are and reduce us to floating atoms.  The sound of the communications system registering a hail sent him jumping out of his skin as the communications officer of one of the frigates called them. “Attention dropship, identify yourself!”

Gavit nodded to Mikle before activating the link to return their hail.

“This is dropship Delta Sierra One Six Eight Delta, prisoner transport to Sirius,” Mikle called back reading off the script they had prepared en route, his mastery of GF phraseology better than the rest.

“Confirmed, Six Eight Delta. We expected you almost an hour ago, what happened?”

“Some damn Confed dropship played chicken with us,” Mikle replied. “We were forced to make an emergency drop.”

“What happened to the enemy ship?”

“They broke up after the dump. They even called to us for help, looked like someone beat them up pretty good.”

“That was us,” the controller replied, a note of pride in his voice. “You should have seen the rest of the task force that came with them. They did manage to cripple the Dixon.”

Blazer grimaced at the lie but waved a hand at Mikle to continue and keep his cool. “Must have been one hell of a fight, are we cleared to proceed?”

“Affirmative, did you take any injuries during the dump?” the controller asked a moment later.

“Minor, a couple of jarheads got slammed against the bulkhead, but they’ll be fine.”

The officer scoffed. “Jarheads? Jeez, where are you from? I don’t know anyone who says things like that anymore.”

Mikle’s eyes went wide and he looked around the cockpit.

Gavit waved at him to go on. <Make something up,> he sent to him over the micomm.

“Jupiter Six Station, my Grandfather used to call Marines that.”

“Okay, you are clear to pass,” he replied with a snort.

“Thank you much,” Mikle replied, signing off.

Blazer breathed a sigh of relief. “What made you think of Jupiter?”

“Both started with a J,” Mikle replied.

Gavit shook his head and fired their engines to set them on their final course correction towards escape. Nearing the jump point, they prepped the dropship for it. Blazer ordered them to run the unfamiliar checklist twice before he allowed Acknit to query the jump buoy for their approach.

Acknit stared at his jury-rigged panel and lurched back. “We have incoming, multiple and big,” he announced, and a moment later a UCSB Mangler class corvette vaulted out through the jump point, its numerous beam turrets lighting up space around them.

Gavit gunned the throttle and fired his downward transition thrusters, almost throwing Blazer out of his seat as he avoided the next craft emerging. “Oh, bugger me sideways.  It’s a task force to retake the jump point! Transmit our IFF and hail them,” Gavit ordered as another pair of corvettes dropped to normal space, their light beam cannons lancing out at the fighters that raced towards them.

“Transmitting, incoming signature, it’s a big one, a Cenobite,” Acknit hollered.

A moment later, a ribbed, wedge shaped, Cenobite destroyer emerged from hyperspace right beside them. Its asteroid cannons launched rocky projectiles at the frigates in the distance.

“They’ve targeted us,” Acknit called out. “Power spike!”

A beam cannon lanced out from a dome emitter on the side of the destroyer and crashed into the dropship’s dorsal shields, cooking the protective barrier as Gavit tried to evade. 

Thank God Acknit had the grav shields up to full for the jump. I’ll bet Gavit’s wishing he had an actual stick and throttle instead of these blasted touch panels right now.

Blazer felt the sweat from his cheeks roll into his eyes as Gavit nosed the dropship over as best he could and dove away from the massive destroyer, its beam angling down to follow them. The shield control console flashed, alerting them to an imminent collapse before the beam cut out, alert klaxons still sounding.

Blazer breathed a sigh of relief for the brief respite as Gavit twisted the dropship about, as best he could manage, to make a run for the jump point. “Tell me we still have hyperspace shields?”

Much to Blazer’s surprise, Tadeh Qudas’ helmeted face appeared on every screen and helmet HUD in the dropship as it faded away around them. “Exercise terminated, prepare for emergency briefing.”

Star System: Classified, UCSBA-13, Neuro-Simulation Bay 7

Blazer came out of the simulation groggier than usual, as one of the technicians helped him out of his couch.  He looked up just as Tadeh Qudas entered the room, and his commander waved them all to sit. “Sir, what’s the matter, why did we get pulled?” Blazer asked.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll give you the short debrief while we’re waiting. Good thinking there, forcing the two dropships out of slipstream was a bold move.”

“I shudder to think what was waiting for us if we didn’t try it,” Marda commented. “With how much you threw at us, I’m surprised we survived.”

“Actually, the point was to fail the mission,” Tadeh Qudas remarked.

Not too surprising, Blazer thought, but this was a final exam before we engage in actual low priority missions, so it’s not what I would have expected.

“You’re only the second team to ever rescue the hostages. Some cut and run sooner than that. Most don’t even make it past the blockade before they either run or get killed.”

“Then what was the point of the exercise?” Arion asked, mopping the sweat from his brow.

“I just told you. Sometimes you need to cut your losses and scrub the mission. Blazer was right to order the mission canceled when he did, but when the opportunity to complete the mission presented itself, he also made a good decision to go for it. It was a dangerous choice, though. Had you been going point zero zero one percent of light speed faster, the dropship would have suffered a full structural collapse and you all would have died.”

“It was one Sheol of a gamble,” Gokhead agreed.

The door disappeared and Admiral Sares strode into the chamber, waving everyone down. “I’ll make this quick. We haven’t much time, Vaughnt.”

Blazer and Marda both shot to their feet.

He regarded the pair and turned towards Blazer. “Cadet Vaughnt, your sister has been kidnaped.”

Blazer felt the bottom fall out of his world and he found himself unable to speak for a moment. “How? By whom?”

“Electrolites.”  He let the words sink in for a moment.  “We’ve just received their demands via Anulian Security Forces. They want you, unarmed and unarmored to report to the Space Force Garrison in Midduwn. There, you’ll receive additional instructions. Ordinarily we would not cooperate with such orders. However, interrogation of Kamden Krain’s Orb has revealed that the Electrolites are planning something major, and we need to disrupt or end their threat once and for all.”

Blazer nodded his understanding, turned to his team, then to Tadeh Qudas and the Admiral. “Sir, request clearance to have my unit gear up and assist in the rescue operation.”

“Cadet, ASF will conduct any rescue. Unfortunately, you are just bait,” the Admiral replied.

Blazer shook his head. “No, sir. If we’re dealing with Electrolites, the ASF won’t know what they’re dealing with. I’ve sparred with everyone here. They know my tricks, so they know how to handle Energy Gatherers. They’re the most qualified squad for the duty.”

“They’ll be minus a squad leader if you’re taken,” the Admiral reminded him.

Tadeh Qudas stepped up. “No, sir. I will assume command while Cadet Vaughnt embeds himself with the terrorists and feeds us intel.”

Blazer had to suppress a grin as Admiral Sares looked up at Tadeh Qudas, then back out at the cadets. “I could swear that these rank tabs indicate that I am the Admiral here,” he said, pointing at the stars and stylized rocket ship on his shoulder.

Tadeh Qudas nodded. “They do, sir. I respectfully request that I lead the ASF rescue effort alongside the only rescue team at our disposal with experience dealing with Energy Gatherers and Electrolites.”

Come on, it’s not like we haven’t stood in harm’s way before. At least, this time we’re better trained and prepared.

The Admiral sighed. “Are they ready?”

The whole team jumped to attention and saluted the Admiral.

“They could face Telshin and better than half would survive,” Tadeh Qudas replied.

Blazer smiled. That’s high praise, coming from him.

“We have a high speed transport on the hangar waiting for you now.  Get suited up and moving.  You will receive a full briefing while en route.”

UCSB DATE: 1001.380

Anul System, Anul, Midduwn, Confed Space Forces Garrison

The whole situation felt so surreal to Blazer that he swore it had to be a simulation. However, for the first time since starting Special Operations training, he knew this was the real thing. He strode down the hallways of the combined Confederation Space Forces and Anulian Security Forces garrison facility in Midduwn and stomped into the garrison commander’s office, where he found three men—the general in command, his grandfather, and an enlisted man.

He marched up to the desk and snapped off an Anulian salute, his right arm across his chest and hand held with his thumb atop it, despite being dressed in civilian clothes. The clothes felt awkward after wearing a uniform for so long, especially because it was at the behest of his soon-to-be kidnapers.

Behind him, the rest of the Blade Force and Tadeh Qudas were not so unencumbered. They arrived in full ACHES, weapons and equipment slung across their backs or hanging at their hips. “Blade Force reporting as ordered, sir.”

The garrison commander returned the salute as he looked over the squad. “We have a rescue team of our own standing by.”

Blazer held up a hand. “No. My sister, my team, my rules.”

The garrison commander was about to protest, when Tadeh Qudas moved up beside Blazer. “Correction. My team, his sister, my command.”

The general took a step back from the intimidating Telshin’s death mask.

Blazer grimaced. Having Tadeh Qudas there lent credence to using his own team, but it rubbed him the wrong way not to be in charge of them.  Blazer wanted to command this operation, but he had to keep his head clear and personal feelings and emotions out of the equation. With his own sister in play, he couldn’t guarantee that he could.

The Admiral rounded the desk, hand extended, but Blazer held up a hand to stop him. “Who’s he?” he asked, pointing at the enlisted man in marine grays, four angled brown stripes on his shoulder.

The man sighed. “I’m Corporal Derjin Sheil, Confed Marine Intelligence.”

Blazer recognized the name, and it took all of his resolve not to smash the man’s face in. “You’re Jell’s boyfriend.”

Derjin nodded, and the Admiral stared at him. “Boyfriend? You were just supposed to watch, not get involved with her.”

“He was the shadow you assigned to her?” Blazer asked.

The Admiral nodded. “He was supposed to get close to her, to be her friend, nothing more.”

“They’ve been sleeping together most of the annura.”

Both the Admiral and the garrison commander stared back at the corporal.

Derjin did his best to keep his head up and shame hidden. “It was the only way I could keep her close. She doesn’t do platonic friends.”

Blazer stepped up to him. “You’re an Energy Gatherer, right?”

Derjin nodded, and Blazer held out his ungloved hand. Derjin grabbed it and Blazer discharged, a shock twice as powerful as what he would use to drop a normal man his size. Derjin took it with a noticeable flinch, and Blazer discharged again. This time Derjin fell back, the tazing charge sending him into momentary convulsions before Blazer turned to his grandfather. “You have an Energy Gatherer watch over my sister to protect her against Electrolites, and you send this guy?”

The Admiral looked down at Derjin twitching on the floor. “He was the only Energy Gatherer available.”

“I could take a shock like that when I was a kid.  Electrolites are bred to be powerful Energy Gatherers and trained to use their abilities to utmost effect.  This is ridiculous.” Blazer turned to the garrison commander. “Do they know that I’m here?”

Admir held up a comm link, a simple device only able to tap into the voice comm network. “We informed them as soon as you landed.” He handed it to Blazer. “It’s genetically coded to work only for you. Now that you’ve touched it, they should be getting the signal that you’re really here.”

Blazer looked back at his team and Tadeh Qudas. “Commander?”

Tadeh Qudas nodded, and the comm link beeped.

Gokhead rushed up and tapped the comm link with the interface stud on his ACHES. That established a link with the device, before Blazer tapped the other end and activated it.

“This is Vaughnt.”

“Ah, good, the grandson of our lost queen.”

Blazer scowled. “I’m here. Now where’s my sister?”

“You don’t even know me,” the man on the other end scoffed.

What does he mean by that?  “That’s right. I don’t know you.”

“You would have known me, if your father hadn’t betrayed us.”

Blazer scowled and decided to take back control of the conversation. “I can cut this link any time I want. Jell’s a pain in the ass anyway.”

The man laughed again. “She is, at that, but Kamden had plans for you two after her death. That’s why she stayed so close to you.”

“When you found out she’d been sealed, is that when you decided to act on those plans on her behalf?”

The link went silent for a long moment. “It accelerated things.”

Gokhead motioned for Blazer to keep the man talking.

“How do we proceed, then? And what proof do I have that the girl is even still alive?”

“Here’s your proof.”

There was a shuffling on the line, and Jell’s voice rang back. “Schan, help me, I don’t, we’re in the canyon somewhere!”

The line went noisy with struggle and Blazer heard what sounded like someone stuffing a gag into Jell’s mouth. Would they have taken her to the Silver Canyon south of Capben after they’d taken her from the Heshin Mountains? Why there?  And how much can I trust that?  She had to have been drugged.  Still, she always had a great sense of direction, so they must have taken her south.  But why the canyon?  Did she feel their elevation change as they descended?  Looking up, he pointed to a map on the wall.

Gokhead and Arion ran over to check it as Blazer pointed not to the canyon itself, but at the plains to the east. “I’m listening.”

“Your sister is very perceptive. We did take her south, but there is a lot of planet to the south.”

“I understand.”  He’s bluffing, they must have transported her by ground only.

“Bring only the comm link in your hand and proceed south out of the Barrier Mountains. You will wait along the highway to Capben and our people will pick you up.”

“Then what? Will you release the girl?”

“Once we have what we want, yes. You have your instructions, and you have 50 pulses to comply.” The line went dead.

Blazer looked up at the garrison commander. “Can you get me there in less than fifty pulses?”

“We have a transport on the roof waiting for you.”

Blazer turned to Tadeh Qudas.  “They won’t let you follow me easily.”  He pulled his sidearm from the concealed holster at his back and laid it on the desk along with his standard issue and personal Macomms.  He looked at his father’s old macomm for a long moment.  What would you do?  Looking back up at Tadeh Qudas he continued.  “With luck they won’t realize I have a Micomm.  Gok should be able to use that to track me.”

Gokhead looked back at him. “I’ve got a tracer to your micomm and the comm link they gave you.”

Blazer and Tadeh Qudas both shook their heads.  “No, they’ll scramble, destroy it, or send it in another direction as soon as they grab me, so don’t rely on that.”  Blazer swallowed hard and looked at the map before checking the clock and looking to Arion. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Arion nodded and pointed to a spot on the map.

Good man.  Blazer gave him a thumbs-up and turned to Marda. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and her breathing accelerated. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.”

“We’re trained for this. I just wish we had more,” she replied, fingering the butt of her rifle.

Blazer gave Marda a quick kiss and rushed out the door, putting on his game face.  Push it aside, no emotion. This is just like any other mission, and Jell is just another objective.

***

Tadeh Qudas stepped up beside Arion as he studied the map. “Where are you two thinking?”

Arion indicated a bluff which dropped down into the Caimen valley southeast of Capben. “The road off this plateau right here drops off quickly. Going down it would feel a lot like the descent into the Silver Canyon. I’m willing to bet that she’s somewhere down there. If Jell’s right, they would have headed south along the face of the plateau after the descent. I would say that they’re somewhere near here.” He tapped a point on the map, and it expanded to show the area in more detail. “It’s an old mining town, mostly abandoned now. But there are a few cottages and such from a development that never took off. It’s a tourist trap now, but if they stuck to the outskirts, I doubt anyone would take notice.”

Tadeh Qudas turned to Admiral Sadrick. “You’re an expert on the area. Would you agree?”

The Admiral stepped over Derjin towards the map. “I think so. If they went into the canyon, there are precious few places they could hide, mostly just tunnels and caves, and the canyon is closely monitored. They would have a hard time sneaking someone in.”

They all turned back to Arion and the map. “He’s right. I’d bet a tridec’s stipend on her being here.”

Tadeh Qudas turned to the team.  “All right.  We move in ten.  I want all equipment ops checked and ready before the dropship lifts.”  He walked up to Admiral Sadrick as the rest of the team exited the room. “You’ll have to sit this one out, old friend.”

Admiral Sadrick protested. “I should be monitoring the operation.”

“No sir. There’s already too much family involved. We have it now.”

Anul, South of the Midduwn Barrier Mountains

Blazer waited for the kidnapers, as instructed, along the highway south of the Barrier Mountains—the walls of an ancient impact crater created during the cataclysm of Catranul. It was just one of many such impacts which had ended the old civilization, laying the seeds of Anulian culture a millennium later. He looked where the dot of the transport shuttle that deposited him there had been a moment before—gone now. They had arrived with five pulses to spare, with no one in sight beyond the normal highway traffic.

Blazer’s Micomm beeped in his head, and making a surreptitious rub of his nose, he answered it. A map appeared in his vision, showing him where Arion surmised the Electrolites had taken Jell.

<Makes sense,> he thought sent. <Take up station near there until we pinpoint her.>

Tadeh Qudas linked in. <Remember who is in command of this mission, cadet. Just do your job and bait the Electrolites.>

Blazer still hated that he wasn’t in command of his own unit.

He stood still for several more pulses, and the comm link in his pocket beeped. He pulled it out and tapped the activation stud. “I’m here.”

There was only silence from the link before an unmarked black hover van pulled up beside him.  It took him a moment to recognize it.  Bugger me sideways, it’s the same van from our trip up the Heshin Mountains.  For a moment it sat there, Blazer scanning it with his micomm as the comm link went dead.   <I’m not getting a transponder signal.>  He sent the team what information he had and waited, doing his best to appear calm.

Two men exited the van, masks over their faces, and led him around to the back door. Another masked man greeted him there and slapped a bag over his head. Blazer made no move to resist. It was not nearly as rough as some of his training exercises. The kidnappers bound his wrists and ankles and rummaged through his pockets.

There was nothing there but his ID and comm link. The comm link tinked off the highway, and they shoved him in the back of the van. He crashed to the floor, the door slammed shut, and they raced away.

“We’re going to knock you out,” one of them told him.

Awfully nice of them to warn me.  He said nothing and felt a pinch in his arm.  Just play along for now.  What if they take me somewhere unexpected, though?  Will Gokhead be able to keep track of me?  Fog filled Blazer’s mind, but before he lost consciousness, he sent one last message to Tadeh Qudas. <They’ve drugged me, heading south.>

Blazer only caught <Following…> before passing out.

Anul, Electrolite Compound

Blazer had no idea where he was, or how long he’d been out, when the universe began creeping back into his senses. The waking was not of his own accord, however: someone had kicked him with both feet. Blazer opened his eyes, found the sack still over his head, and sat up. He regretted doing that instantly when the drugs in his system made his head spin.

“About time you woke up, you freaking idiot!”

“Nice to hear your voice, Jell.” Blazer scooted towards the source of his sister’s voice. He felt her teeth grab hold of the bag before she pulled it off and spit it out. He surveyed a darkened room before turning to Jell.

She looked like they’d dragged her through Sheol, not injured, but dirty, grimy and wearing clothes that were not something she would ever pick out. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to rescue you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nice job, you freaking moron. You got yourself captured in the process.”

“That’s just part of the plan.”

“Oh yeah, ‘part of the plan’ says mister big shot military guy, thinks he can do anything.”

Blazer gave his sister a harsh look. “I know what I’m doing.”

He attempted to access his micomm, nothing. He tried again, and the link stayed dead. He restarted the unit and the start menu indicated it was functional, but he couldn’t establish a link. “Jamming,” he let slip out.

“What?”

Blazer looked around, searching for listening devices.

“They’re not listening. I shorted out all the electrics in the room after they brought me in, and they’ve not brought anything else but you.”

“Something could have been shielded.”

“Not from the charge I blew out.”

Blazer looked at his sister and her haggard eyes. “How much did you blow out?”

She didn’t answer.

“Jell if you blew out enough to get Tem’s…”

“I’m not that stupid.”

Blazer shook his head, twisted about, and grabbed her hands to give her a slight charge.  The look of relief that washed over her face when he turned back to face her told him enough.  You came damn close.

“Thanks, I needed that.”

“Given who our captors are, I’m surprised they didn’t do that for you already.”

“I think they didn’t want to risk me taking more. How much of a charge have you got?”

Blazer smiled back. “You don’t want to know. Could they have drained me on the way here without my knowing?”

Jell shrugged.

Blazer remained silent for a moment, feeling the electrolytic layer below his skin.  The drugs made it hard for him to know how much charge he had, but he could tell they had taken a little.  Good.  They probably think they’ve siphoned off enough to make me harmless.  “How long since I arrived, or since they called?”

She shrugged again.

“Come on, Jell, give me something!”

“I haven’t exactly got a way to tell time in here you know, a few hects at least since they dumped you here, not sure beyond that.”

Blazer accessed his micomm’s internal clock, but the clock fritzed. It jumped around between time zones and the windowless room gave no indications. “Did they do anything to me when I arrived?”

“Not that I saw.”

Blazer tried to reset the clock, but nothing worked. He clicked the clock over to internal stopwatch mode, cutting it off from outside influence. “This jamming is really messing with my micomm,” he whispered to himself.

“You’ve got a micomm? I thought they didn’t work with EGs?” she whispered back to him.

“New model, it even works with Arion.”

“Really?”

“Took three implants, but it took.”

“So now what?”

“Now we wait.”

A few pulses later, the door to the room opened. Blazer recognized the old man who had led the charge to kidnap Jell at the Overlook Inn, from the surveillance video, but not the two younger men with him. “Gared Corva.”

The man’s eyebrows raised and he nodded to Blazer. “You do know me then.”

Blazer recognized the voice from the comm link and nodded. “I know you were in Kamden’s inner circle, one of the few who escaped. You’ve also been on the Confed’s most wanted list since Kamden died. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll get a medal for your capture.”

Gared returned a crooked smile. “You are overconfident.”

Blazer shook his head. “Overconfidence kills.”

Gared nodded as three more men entered the room. One brought a chair for the old man to sit in as the other two went behind Blazer and Jell and hoisted them to their feet.

Blazer looked down at the man once he was on his feet. “Curious position you put us in. I’m standing above you now.”

Gared nodded. “But of course. You are Kamden’s ultimate success, albeit not the way she planned.”

Blazer had heard of Kamden’s plan when she’d possessed Marda. He looked at his sister before turning back to Gared, betraying no emotion. “I’m not going to screw my sister.”

Jell looked at the two of them, horror on her face. “Oh, you’re disgusting.”

Gared smiled back at them. “There’s no need for the two of you to exchange fluids in such a crude manner. Though if you did so willingly, it would make things far easier. Artificial wombs are so hard to maintain after all, and of course we might not gain the benefits of your sister’s multiplier womb.”

Jell stood there slack jawed. “You want us to breed? That is the most twisted thing ever.”

Gared looked up at her with the eyes of a kind old grandfather about to school a child on the wrongness of its misconceptions.  “Jell.  Imagine how powerful your child would be if your brother fathered it.  You two are the most powerful Energy Gatherers I have ever seen.  Combine that with your multiplier’s womb, and just imagine the power it would have.”

Jell stood silent and turned to Blazer. He remained stoic while she addressed Gared again. “I’ve not had any children. I may not have inherited my mother’s gift.”

“Oh, we already know you have her gift. We’ve mapped your genes, pulled your file from the Confed database, and we know you are a Multiplier. Young Schan is also a carrier.”

Blazer and Jell exchanged a look. “That database is locked. How’d you gain access?!”

“We have an Electrolite there. They pulled your files annura ago.”

These idiots, if people find out that they accessed the genome database without authorization it could cause a panic.  It would affect not only Energy Gatherers but others with genetic specialties as well. “So, what then, collect my sperm and artificially inseminate her?”

Gared smiled that crooked smile back at them and nodded his head at an odd angle. “It is a thought we had. We’ve also considered keeping her drugged to keep her from doing anything that might terminate the pregnancy, though we would prefer your cooperation.”

An orb that Blazer didn’t recognize flitted into the room. The way Jell flinched told Blazer that she did. He regarded it as a curiosity when it zipped into his face. It felt a touch familiar, but at the same time a complete stranger. “Well, this obviously isn’t Kamden. Who is it?”

In response, the same memories that had filled Jell’s mind during her kidnapping flooded his own. Along with the remembrances, it unlocked hidden pockets of knowledge Kamden had implanted in him over the annura.

Blazer staggered back into the man behind him as the last memories took root. He panted from the exertion, unable to believe what had just happened. He couldn’t process it all, but then the tools Kamden implanted came to life, and he snapped back up. His brow furrowed, he looked about the room, and turned to Jell. “He showed you the same vision?”

She nodded, visibly shaken by the memory.

He turned toward Gared, then up at the orb. “You showed me more than you did her.”

The orb twittered back at him.

Blazer twisted his neck, popping it, and sighed before looking back at his sister. “I see now why Kamden joined them.”

Jell stared back at him in horror. “You what?!”

Blazer regarded his sister again. “They just gave you the chapter summaries. I got the whole story.”

“Oh you have to be the biggest fool…”

“No, you don’t understand, Jell.  Kamden’s plan was wrong.  She shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss our mother.  She should have checked her gene map before rejecting her as our father’s mate.” He looked back at Gared. “You have most of our followers gathered here, correct?”

He nodded. “We have been without a real leader for some time now. The bloodline of Kamden Krain. That is the bloodline we should maintain.”

“My sister will birth us true princes and princesses. We will have to monitor the development of our children in utero to ensure that our kinship does not bring complications.”

“We have a geneticist ready to work with us, to prevent any unfortunate side effects of your breeding.”

Jell made to step towards him, but the man behind her held her fast. “What did that orb do to you?”

Blazer regarded her with a pitying kindness. “It showed me the truth, dear sister. It showed me just what place our kind holds in the galaxy. The Energy Gatherers, Electrolites in particular, are the most powerful genetic specialty there is. We could even manipulate the psionics, disrupting their telepathy and telekinesis with proper training and focus.”

Jell stared back at Blazer in disbelief. Gared continued to smile. “Good, what would be your first order as our king?”

“Obviously, to impregnate my sister here. Before that, however, I would have you bring the Medium to me as well.”

Gared regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

“Jell here is my sister, and I would gain no pleasure from coupling with her. I would keep the Medium as my concubine. She should prove able to breed other powerful Energy Gatherer children as well. As for Jell, we will simply impregnate her via artificial means for the most part.”

Gared gave Jell a cruel smile, looking her up and down.

Jell tried to twist out the grip of the man holding her, but he was too strong. “This is insane!”

“I would also have you bring the Medium, so that she might free Kamden.”

Gared jumped out of his chair. “What, how?”

“She is the Medium who sealed her. She is the only one who knows how she did that, and therefore the only one who can free her. The sealing may have given her a link to Kamden’s orb and let her know where it is. I could use Kamden’s counsel.”

The other orb twittered back at Blazer, protesting.

“It is rare, but sealed orbs can be unsealed.”

The orb flared at him in anger.

“The Medium told me that she has seen it done before. She would not lie to the man she loves.”

The orb continued to twitter back at him with a new fury.

“Contain yourself. While I value your counsel as well, I have questions about my family that only the Medium can answer. Your memories of her are, shall we say, incomplete.”

The orb continued to rage at him.

“I’m sorry, Jell, but this is way it has to be.”

He turned back to Gared.

“You never answered my earlier question. How many of our followers are here?”

“The whole of the Council and their attendants.”

The memories the orb had imparted to Blazer had told him that five senior Electrolites made up the Council. They in turn disseminated the rule of the king or queen to the rest of their cells. Kamden had used Gared as her go-between with the Counsel, in life and even more so in death. She had even left him in charge while she molded and indoctrinated Blazer and Jell.

“Is there unrest, since Kamden’s fate was revealed?”

“Some, but now that you are here, you can bring them back in line.”

“So, am I to rule from here?” he asked, looking about in disgust.

“No, my king, but we must begin here. Soon you may rule from any throne you call upon.”

Blazer continued to look about, making his irritation known through his posture and expression.

Gared waved one of the men out. “While we do not have a throne for you, we do have your scepter.”

Blazer just stood there regarding them all with a dispassionate eye.

Jell continued to stare at him, a stare that screamed hatred at her brother.

“Don’t worry, dear sister. You’ll be taken care of.”

She glared back at him as the other man returned and handed a bundle to Gared. Blazer gave the bundle a curious look as his kidnaper unwrapped it. His eyes went wide when he recognized it—unmistakable thanks to the knowledge the orb had imparted to him.

Jell looked at it with disdain. “It’s a gun, what kind of scepter is that?”

“You know not of what you speak, sister.”  Blazer turned back to the weapon.  He had known that weapon his whole life, but had never seen one in person.  An EGP-13 Energy Gatherer’s Pulse Pistol. Not just any Pulse Pistol, it’s Grandfather Aiden’s. I assumed it was lost or destroyed after his death.

“You know what this is?” Gared asked. These pulse pistols were long out of production and even the newest was now centuries old.

“I do. I have seen images of them, and thanks to the orb, I know exactly what this one is.”

Gared handled it with loving care. “If we had queen Kamden’s, we would give you that. But the weapon of her husband will have to be enough.”

Blazer stared at the weapon with unabashed longing. It looked far more utilitarian than Kamden’s, simpler in design, without the carved decorations and filigree save for the Vaughnt family crest on its side. Even Jell seemed to recognize it.

Jell looked back at Blazer and then Gared. “What are you planning, old man?”

Blazer looked back at her and then to the man behind her. “Gag her.”

Jell’s eyes filled with rage as the man stuffed a gag in her mouth, tying it off behind her head.

“I will hear no more of your protests this cycle, Jell.”

Jell screamed at him through the gag, but nothing intelligible came out.

Blazer turned back to Gared. “I would take my scepter,” he said and held up his hands to the man behind him. “Unbind me.”

Gared exchanged a look with the orb, and it twittered back at him. It assured him that Blazer was theirs now. He could only recognize this weapon if the memories implanted had taken hold, and if the seeds of indoctrination Kamden had planted now controlled him.

“You’re sure?” Gared asked it.

It twittered again, and he turned to the man behind Blazer.

“You heard your king. Unbind him!”

Blazer stood still as he felt the knife first cut the ties around his ankles, then slip between his wrists to slice through the plastic cuffs there.

Blazer pulled his hands forward, massaged his wrists for a moment, and adjusted his stance before turning back to his sister. “Unbind her ankles as well. I would not see my queen fall on her face. Now!”

The man behind Jell complied and unbound her ankles.

“Leave her wrists bound.”

Blazer turned back to Gared and the old man took a knee before him, holding up the weapon. “We are humbled to have the grandson of Kamden Krain to lead us now, to have him know our ways, and to lead us to our true future.

“Thank you,” Blazer replied and picked up the weapon. He looked it over with a collector’s eye, examining every detail. He caressed the intake vents that pulled in surrounding air, air the weapon would compress, charge, and expel as a lethal round. They were simple and robust. The charging ports in the grip, into which he would discharge to activate the weapon, were humble in their simple elegance and design. It made them more efficient than the ones on Kamden’s pistol. Blazer could see ways to modify and improve it. There was no traditional trigger, just a discharge port, so that only an Energy Gatherer like him could use it.

This was the preferred weapon of Energy Gatherer assassins in times of old.  When tuned in the proper manner, it could tear through flesh or shatter the bones and internal organs of the target without leaving a mark on the skin.  Their power was never enough to pierce a ship’s hull, though, which helped to make them practical in the early age of space warfare

Blazer flipped it over in his hand and examined the other side. The Vaughnt name and crest stood out there, scribed into the side centuries before. He took the pistol by the grip and raised it, easing a slow discharge into it as the orb had instructed him, priming the weapon. The pistol whined in response. This was the first time it had held a charge in decades.

Would this have been my father’s, if he hadn’t betrayed Kamden?

Gared smiled. Blazer’s ability to use the weapon seemed proof that the indoctrination had taken hold. The usage of these weapons was a secret only the Electrolites maintained.

Blazer twisted the weapon about and fired it at the wall. The blast was not at full power, but it was enough to crack the old wooden boards. Several men beyond yelped in surprise. He charged it again and fired at the opposite wall, boring a hole through the wood that allowed light from outside to seep in. He then turned back to Gared, who had a smile across his face.

“I thank you.” He looked at the orb again. “I thank you as well. I know this is all sooner than expected. Kamden’s plan would have taken annura more to indoctrinate me.”

Jell looked at him, a question in her eyes.

“According to her plan, I would not take my throne for another decade, but now I know where I belong and what I must do.” Blazer smiled back at his sister. “It will all be over soon, don’t you worry.” He regarded Gared again. “How many soldiers do we have here?”

“Enough to secure a garrison.”

“No, that would be premature at this time, to capture a garrison here. We would be wiser to take a ship, something mobile from which we can plan and strike. Perhaps I should return to the Academy, seed myself there, and build an army of blanks to do my bidding.”

Gared considered that, and nodded. “No, my King. A ship is the best plan. If they even think you have joined us, I shudder to think what they might do.”

“Good, then we will proceed with the plan.”

Jell shot him a look of pure hate again. She tried to kick him, but he stepped away.

Blazer stepped up to Jell, reached up to touch her face, and she recoiled from him. “It’s okay, dear sister. In time, you will see and understand what they showed me.” He reached up and removed the gag.

“Go to Sheol, you shit piece!” she cried, tears turning down her face.

“No, dear sister, there is no need for tears. I also have one more thing I need to tell you,” he said, wiping away the tears and winked at her. He had given her the same wink once before, to convince her that everything was all right after he’d lied to their grandparents to cover for her. “Now, dear sister, duck!”

Blazer pushed Jell down to the floor as hard as he could. He brought the pistol up and fired it into the head of the man standing behind her. The man stumbled back as the blast liquefied his brain. Blazer dove on top of his sister to cover her. The wall he had bored a hole through to the outside world exploded, and his fire team rushed the room, Tadeh Qudas leading them.

Plaser fire erupted from their rifles, downing the Electrolites with the exception of Gared, who stood too stunned to move. Blazer rolled off Jell, brought up his pulse pistol, and fired it into the orb. The orb took the hit and fell. Blazer could have sworn that he heard it thud as it hit the floor.

Adrenaline flowing, Blazer watched as Marda ran up and took a knee next to the orb.  Why is she with fire team one?  Seeing the stocky HRP-63-C, heavy repeating plaser in her hands, he realized why.  Tadeh Qudas assembled them in the fast assault formation. In that case, Zithe is leading her fire team. Smart move. He must have swapped Arion and Gavit, too.

A series of four more orbs trailed Marda and she looked astonished at the orb on the floor. “The orb is only stunned. You four, keep it here.”

Even Blazer felt surprised that the pulse pistol had worked on an orb. It was a gamble that had paid off, based on the orb itself showing him that pulse pistols like his could disrupt the quantum wavicles of an orb.

Blazer climbed to his feet as the other four orbs orbited the Electrolite orb on the floor. He turned towards Tadeh Qudas. “The rest of the squad?”

In response, he heard three more breaching charges go off in sequence and calls over his micomm as they commenced their assaults.

“They’re on time and on task,” Tadeh Qudas replied.

Blazer nodded and turned to Jell as Gokhead helped her to her feet. “We need to get her someplace safe.” He looked out the hole in the wall the team had blasted through on their way in and could see plaser fire raining down from the upper level. The Electrolites hadn’t seen the team approach and were now firing wildly out of the building to halt any further attack. “Well, looks like we keep her here, then.”

Jell ran up to Blazer and slapped him. “Mind telling me what in ninth level of Sheol is going on?”

Blazer rubbed his face and turned to Tadeh Qudas. “I’ll explain later. How’d you find us?”

Tadeh Qudas, at his position by the door, waved Gokhead over to take his place and explained. “We picked up jamming while doing our aerial survey. Gokhead’s civilian micomm was even getting interference at altitude. Using that to home in on you was simple.”

Blazer gave Gokhead an appreciative nod. “Good job.”

Gokhead’s only response was a quick image of him smiling over the micomm link, their proximity allowing them to burn through the jamming signal.

“We need to move quickly. The five leaders are here with their attendants,” Blazer explained. “This is our chance to cut the heads off the Electrolite organization.”

“We know, we heard,” Tadeh Qudas replied.

Jell just looked at them dumbfounded. “I thought you were jammed?”

“We are, but once they knew where I was, my team was able to burn through the jamming and set up a private link the jamming couldn’t block.”

“So you were lying that whole time?”

“Mostly, but the best lies are wrapped in truth, after all.”

Marda walked up to him, her repeating plaser quite prominent in her arms. “Speaking of which, Concubine?”

Blazer shook his head. “Not the time or the place,” he admonished her before giving her a sheepish grin. “But I had to keep them talking. Tadeh Qudas Sir, may I take back my team now?”

Tadeh Qudas shook his head. “Negative, you are armed, but not armored. That weapon is not made for sustained fire.” Tadeh Qudas regarded the pistol. “Can you hold off anyone who enters the room?”

In response, Blazer pulled up the pistol and fired it at Gared, shattering his kneecaps. “Yes sir, but I could use something a little more rapid fire just in case,” Blazer requested over Gared’s screams.

Tadeh Qudas pulled the small AP-96 assault plaser from his back and tossed it to Blazer. He caught it with ease and slid the pulse pistol into the empty holster at his back. “Thank you, sir.”

Tadeh Qudas led his team out of the room. They still had to take the rest of the building.

Blazer listened in on over the micomm as his team secured the building one room at a time, killing or stunning any inside.  <Take these alive,> Blazer ordered, sending them images, given him by the orb, of the Council members or their reps.  The hiss of stun blasts echoed through the building, their tone different even to untrained ears.

Blazer knelt down next to Gared as he writhed in pain on the floor. Gared raised his hand and discharged in an attempt to shock Blazer. Blazer just absorbed the attack before firing a stun round into Gared’s leg, disrupting his abilities.

The old man regarded him with hatred and confusion in his eyes. “How? How did you beat the indoctrination?”

Blazer smiled down at him. “We put the pieces together once we’d found out that Kamden was the orb that had been following me my whole life.”

Gared scowled back at him.

“Marda and a psionic at the academy determined that Kamden had been indoctrinating me and others in our sleep. She was the one who’d been giving us bad dreams for annura.”

Gared sneered.

“I resisted for a long time. Now I know that when she would disappear for cycles at a time now and then, she was coming here to see you.”

“But how did you beat the other orb?”

Blazer looked at the orb on the floor as it twitched and twittered, the others keeping it in place. “You don’t watch security feeds, do you? That was the one thing Derjin did right. He reviewed the security logs of the room where he made his reports and saw the orb, but didn’t realize what it was. Marda could, even thru the log video.”

“You couldn’t fake that indoctrination! It would know.”

“You forget. I’m married to a Medium. And her grandmother is, or was, one of the most powerful on Anul.” Blazer gave his neck a painful crack and an orb emerged from out of his back. He turned to it as it flitted about. “Do you know how uncomfortable that is, carrying my Grandmother-in-law’s spirit inside me?”

The orb twittered back at him and Gared in response.

“You can’t beat back that kind of power.”

The orb chittered back at him, then raced off to assist the other orbs. For a moment, Blazer could see the orbs as they projected what they looked like in life, an image normally reserved for mediums. It was a surreal sight, especially the writhing mass of the orb on the floor. With so many spirits fighting for control, he felt grateful when the image started to recede.

Running from outside the door drew his attention, and he brought up his oversized plaser pistol.  Three Electrolites rushed the room and discharged into him.  The combined assault set him stumbling backwards a step.  They were powerful, just not as much as he.  He pulled the trigger and nothing happened.  Shreg! I wasn’t the target, they must want to recapture me.

One of them then brought up a pulse pistol. Blazer recognized it from the orb’s vision. It was newer than his by a decade, but not as well built, and it had a bad sight. Blazer rolled out of the way and the floor beside him exploded. He tackled Jell to get her out of the line fire and pulled his pulse pistol.

He twisted about as he fell and fired a haphazard shot, intended to hit the man’s center of mass, but he missed. He was used to having the enhanced optics of his ACHES integrated with his weapon. Shooting without them left him handicapped.

The shot drove the three men back, however, and Blazer fired again as he hit the floor. He wasn’t used to the sights on this gun and he missed the man’s chest again. The blast caught his arm instead. The muscles of the man’s shoulder and upper arm exploded, and he dropped his pulse pistol, falling back in agony.

Blazer twisted around and brought up his left hand.  He arced a lightning bolt into the next man—sent him flailing.  I’m discharging too much, I won’t be able to keep this up without a recharge.

The third man rushed him and Blazer whipped the pistol around and fired.  At this range, there was no way he could miss.  The pulse blast caught the man square in the chest and sent him staggering into the far wall.  Damn, this thing is powerful.  The man wavered against the wall dazed, gasping for breath before collapsing to the ground with several shattered ribs.

Gared lay there and watched the whole thing. Blazer wasn’t used to the pistol yet and had discharged more energy than he needed to with each blast. Gared let loose a cruel smile and brought up his hand, electricity arcing between his fingers before Jell ran up and kicked him in the head.

“Nobody discharges at my brother like that!”

Blazer smiled at her. “Thanks, now tell me there’s an electrical outlet in here.”

“No, it’s all battery powered.”

Blazer looked down at the assault plaser at her feet. Though damaged, it still should hold a charge in its magazine. He walked over and pulled the magazine, touched the two contacts on the battery pack, and absorbed the full charge.

Jell looked on amazed. “You’ve really embraced the whole Energy Gatherer thing haven’t you?”

“Yeah, and not because of that orb.”  He cast the magazine aside as cries of “All clear!” began to ring in from the rest of the squad.  “I’ve done it for Dad, my future children, and every other EG out there.”  Out of habit, Blazer placed a hand to his ear and replied.  <All clear here, three tangos down, Prisoner and objective secured.>

Tadeh Qudas came over the link next. <Good job people, Anulian Security Forces have an assault craft inbound to secure the area.>

***

A hect later, Blazer stood in the room with the rest of his squad as security forces escorted or carried out Electrolite prisoners and dead. Blazer turned to Tadeh Qudas as he watched two soldiers carry Gared out on a stretcher, hoping never to see that man or his ilk ever again. “Sir, were this an exam, would we have passed?”

Tadeh Qudas looked at him. “I was working out some real operations for you, for next semester. I may have to amend them now.”

Several of the squad laughed, Zithe growling in approval.

“You were sloppy letting those three get the drop on you, though.”

Blazer looked about at his team.  To hear that he’d been sloppy was a bitter pill.  The scorch marks on some of their armor showed where they’d taken hits of their own.  But I wasn’t in command, was I?

“Yes sir, I was starting to interrogate the prisoner…”

“Interrogations come later, cadet.”

“I know, sir. I was merely trying to get more intel to assist our operation.”

“Nevertheless, you all did an excellent job.” Tadeh Qudas looked at the pistol on Blazer’s hip, six discharged magazines lying about on the floor around him, and two next to Jell. “Just how much power have you absorbed?”

Blazer nodded his head to the side. “A lot. I think I may be able to handle even more, in the future.”

Rudjick looked at him a wicked grin on his face. “Maybe we need to change his call sign then, to lightning man or something.”

Arion elbowed him. “I think Blazer still fits him just fine.”

Tadeh Qudas turned to the Security Force as they escorted three of the Electrolite leaders out of the building. “As it stands, this cycle should mark the real end of the Electrolites. After we interrogate these men, we’ll have the identities of every Electrolite left, and they’ll be rounded up. You and your team ended a serious threat here, Vaughnt. You should be proud.”

Marda laid a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “I agree.”

Blazer smiled at her and a thought occurred to him. “Sir, are we to return to the academy, or are we granted leave?”

“It’s been a long time since I was last on Anul. I’d like to see what changes have been made to the garrison. We will report back there and make arrangements.”

Blazer smiled and took Marda’s ungloved hand, giving her a little tickle charge. She looked over at him after jumping in surprise. “Don’t start! You still have to pay for that Concubine Sheol.”

Jell smacked Blazer on the back of the head. “Yeah.”

Rudjick slipped in behind. “You know, boss, I don’t envy the position you put yourself into there.”

Blazer looked back at him. “I think it might be best to put my sister in protective custody while we’re here. Just until we can have a telepath scrub her of any lingering indoctrination.”

Jell raised a fist to Blazer. “You wouldn’t dare…”

“I’m already going to have your boyfriend…”

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

“Good, then let’s report back. I think we could all use a vacation after this.”

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:

Seri Amare-            Original Monstero Nach Squadron Commander/Blade Force Leader

Railet Altair-            Original Monstero Nach XO, Seri’s WSO Candidate

Blade Force:

Schan Vaughnt-      “Blazer,” Anulian Male, Ex- Navigator Guild Buoy Boy Energy Gatherer

Arion Scotts-            Anulian Male, Ex- Navigator Guild Buoy Boy, Self-healer

Marda Sciminder-      Anulian Female, Ex-Diplomatic Corps Shuttle Pilot, Combat Medium

Usha Gokhead-      Drashig Male, Ex-Space Forces Intel Specialist

Deniv Vail -            Anulian Male, Ex- Navigator Guild Buoy Boy

Gavit Markus-            Anulian Male, Ex-Aero-Racer, Ex-ASF Militia Spacecraft Handler

Chris Anit-            Anulian Female, Ex-Space Forces Security Specialist

Eggedon Bichard-      Cortherian Drone (Spec), Ex-Navigator Guild Buoy Boy

Enerian Zithe-            Anulian Male Lycan, Ex-Dragon Corps Rider

Meaden Rudjick-      Anulian Male Elf, Ex-Dragon Corps Dragon Handler

Datt-                  Anulian Male Clone, Ex-Zel-Tagian Militia CSAR Specialist

Treb-                  Anulian Male Clone, Ex-Zel-Tagian Militia CSAR Specialist

Seaver Acknit-            Anulian Male, Ex-Space Corps Infantryman, Communications Tech

Mikle Tager-            Anulian Male, Ex-Space Corps Infantryman, Security Specialist

Matt Talkerna-            Anulian Matt, Ex-Space Corps Sniper

Explosions:

Trevis, Dibtel,-      Tomeris Males, Ex-3267th Tomeris Security Battalion

Gadcon, Roilin, Ribtin, Dosher

Telsh, Kallie,            Tomeris Females, Ex-3267th Tomeris Security Battalion

Porc, Nash-            Nerzain Males, Ex-Space Forces Gunnery Specialists

Kink Ller-            Nerzain Females, Ex-Space Forces Infantry

Samtriss-            Anulian Female, Ex-Space Forces Heavy Gunner

Anul:

Jell Vaughnt-            Anulian Female, Blazer’s Sister, Energy Gatherer

Admiral A.Sadrick-      Anulian Male, Retired Space Fleet Admiral

Cherela Sadrick-      Anulian Female, Blazer and Jell’s Maternal Grandmother

Derjin Sheil-            Anulian Male, Bartender, Club Soren, Energy Gatherer

Kamden Krain-      Anulian Female, Electrolite War Criminal (Deceased)

Gared Corva-            Anulian Male, Electrolite War Criminal, Wanted for War Crimes

Nilosa Sciminder-      Anulian Female, Marda’s Grandmother, Medium (Deceased)

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)

Tadeh Qudas-            Telshin Male, Head of Field Operations Instruction, O-55, (Commander)

Mendrick-            Drashig Male, Owner of Cadet Bar

Dr Jolian Sares-      Anulian Male, Dean of Medicine, Admiral Sares

Cadets:

Chertsin-            Tomeris Male, Ex-3267th Tomeris Security Battalion

Saldray-            Tomeris Male, Ex-3267th Tomeris Security Battalion

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: 1000.022

UCSB Date: 1001.002

UCSB Date: 1001.011

UCSB Date: 1001.022

UCSB Date: 1001.023

UCSB Date: 1001.024

UCSB Date: 1001.025

UCSB Date: 1001.026

UCSB Date: 1001.029

UCSB Date: 1001.030

UCSB Date: 1001.034

UCSB Date: 1001.075

UCSB Date: 1001.077

UCSB Date: 1001.132

UCSB Date: 1001.133

UCSB Date: 1001.141

UCSB Date: 1001.180

UCSB Date: 1001.212

UCSB Date: 1001.002

UCSB Date: 1001.270

UCSB Date: 1001.273

UCSB Date: 1001.284

UCSB Date: 1001.291

UCSB Date: 1001.309

UCSB Date: 1001.325

UCSB Date: 1001.372

UCSB Date: 1001.378

UCSB Date: 1001.379

UCSB Date: 1001.380

Time and Measure Conversion Factors

Dramatis Personae

Spiral War Historic Timeline