He looked at his face in the mirror after inserting his fresh brown-eyed contacts. I am Steph’N, a Borgund Ranger, he said internally. No way would he say it out loud. His quarters were most likely bugged. Everyone else’s was; he and his men installed the recording microphone chips. It was so long since he’d seen his family, or his real face in the mirror. His former life seemed so far away, getting further out of reach every day.
Colonel Vas was arriving on SB5 today for an inspection. What if Vas brought him another “Present?” More boy-toys? He paced in his room most of the night, and worried about being discovered as a spy. Steph’N was not a very religious man, but he did believe in the Creator; so, he prayed, asking for Divine help in his mission. He left his quarters and walked quickly down the corridor. He took a brown food paste ration tube out of his pocket and sucked it down. What did real food taste like? He’d been on this base for months now, all of them living on food paste tubes and hard algae chip rations. They needed fresh food. Over twenty-three months of deep immersion. His own family wouldn’t even recognize him now, let alone Va’Pal. His face was now thin, drawn, and gaunt, and his uniforms loose.
After the formalities of the inspection and base tours were complete, Colonel Vas was shown his quarters, and wanted to rest for the night. Good. Vas brought a few cases of canned food for the men on SB5. Slimy canned beef stew beat out brown food paste rations, hands down. He tried hard not to think about fresh food, and yelled at any man who talked about it.
Steph’N checked his schedule for the remainder of the evening. One more machine component fine tuning, and then he was off for a few hours. After being on this base for months, he knew the technical specs and schematics of the engines well. He could tear them apart by himself now, and rebuild any engine component unaided. He was fully immersed as the Chief Engineer of SB5, and did not have to fake it. His men no longer looked at him sideways in their meetings, wondering if he was qualified to run the department. It was his to command.
Major S’Loc walked back to his quarters alone, not joining in the celebration of the base passing inspection, and being re-commissioned by the Rebellion. Let them party. He went inside his quarters and slammed the door shut, and locked it. He put his hands behind his neck and rubbed his tight muscles. No wonder some men never came back from deep immersion. It was easier. All he had to do was to let go of his inner self, his true identity. He could forget about Commander Steph’N; his family; his Warrior Class; his hopes and dreams. It would be so much easier now. It was very difficult to recall his old life, his family and friends; when he did, it was painful. He had trouble remembering their faces sometimes. Were they even curious what happened to him, after nearly two years? Did anyone care about him? He felt so lost, so alone.
It would be so easy to let go and continue to be Major S’Loc. He was a hero of the Rebellion now. The Rebels treated him with respect. He was now the SB5 Base Commanding Officer, and Colonel Vas promised him another promotion and pay raise tonight. Within the next few months, Vas would promote him to Captain. The voice of “D’Wayn” on the secret comm link weekly transmissions only said “Yes,” and “No,” never offering recommendations, a few instructions, some encouragement, or any suggestions to him.
Steph’N poured himself a Brandywine drink from the bottle Colonel Vas gave him, and belted it down. Strong and sweet, it burned his throat a bit, but it tasted good. He could, perhaps, let Major S’Loc have a change of heart and find a woman, in a few months. Stranger things have happened. There were several nurses and female officers serving on Duma Wat’s destroyer, and many more working on the M’Wati Rebel Base. Duma Wat treated the women well, and paid them equally to the men of equal rank. The women liked the “bad boys” of the rebellion.
All he had to do was let go, and forget about his old life. What was left of it, anyway? Nothing left of his Ranger life; nothing left of his family memories; and nothing left for Va’Pal to feel for him. He never felt so empty and forlorn. It would be so easy now; just forget, and let go. Be the Rebel Major S’Loc, the newest Hero of the Rebellion. Far easier than to force himself to hold onto his old self, hoping he had someone still caring about him. Far easier… just let go.
No wonder Emperor P’Lau painted his face white. It helped hide his true feelings. The history books said the Emperors and Empresses painted their faces white for hundreds of years, and their lips red. Now Steph’N understood why. The slightest facial twitch, or movement of his eyes could give him away. He looked at himself in the mirror, at his tough face, furrowed brows, and scowling mouth: Major S’Loc. His mask. He didn’t remember how he used to look with his long hair, wearing his Ranger black cloak, with the special smile only Va’Pal could give him. Can’t remember what they looked like. Mother. Sister. Va’Pal…
Steph’N drifted away into the shadows of his mind. The faces of his Mother and Sister were blurred and distant. They were so far away. Did they think he was dead? He felt dead to them. Another Brandywine was downed. He felt emotionally hollow. Alone. A vagabond in empty space, surrounded by traitors. Abandoned by the Emperor. He floated in the netherworld. All seemed without purpose, devoid of hope.
Then Steph’N snapped out of the dark abyss of his mind, and slapped his own face as hard as he could several times. He began his T’Ly martial arts workout, punching and kicking as hard as he could, slapping his face, and hitting his own abdomen, to come back. Come back, Steph’N. Believe again. Keep on the path, Borgund Ranger.
V
Aboard Space Base 5
Major S’Loc inserted his 20-credit gold coin into the live vid comm booth, and keyed in the secret call numbers. In thirty seconds, he was connected to his “Nephew D’Wayn,” on Home World. “Hello, Uncle S’Loc. Is all well with you?” D’Wayn asked, in an effeminate voice.
“Quite well, nephew. I am still one step ahead of Imperial oppressors targeting my hide. How goes the business without me?” He asked, his usual opening. This is where the conversation usually got shortened, and became insignificant.
D’Wayn blinked twice quickly, and then replied, “The customer traffic is steady, but not increasing in its growth rate. I’m afraid I do not have your social and marketing skills, Uncle S’Loc.” This was a new path for his weekly calls. D’Wayn shook his head twice.
Major S’Loc rubbed his chin, and said, “Just keep it going. Our family needs more income. Treat the best customers the best, but give good service to everyone, D’Wayn.”
D’Wayn smoothed his hair, pursed his lips and said coyly, “I give excellent service, as you know very well. If you were here…”
“If I was there, I wouldn’t have to spend so much on a bloody intra-system vid call,” S’Loc interrupted. “I have important work here to do, and cannot be with you. Just do the best you can, until victory reunites us. S’Loc, out.” The Major impatiently hit the “End” button, pulled out the recording chip, left the private booth, and walked to his room.
Major S’Loc slammed his door loudly, on purpose. He wanted whoever was observing and listening to his call to think he was pissed off at his “Nephew D’Wayn.” Everyone would stay out of his way for a couple of days when word got around the Major was ticked off at his Home World boy-toy.
Steph’N opened a drawer in his desk and took out the bottle of Brandywine, and poured a stiff drink. He unbuttoned his shirt, kicked off his over-worn boots, and plopped down in his chair. He put his personal feelings aside and concentrated on his call to “D’Wayn.” He slipped the recorded chip in his ear buds, listened to the call again, and carefully decoded the message.
The comm link number belonged to C.S. Vu’Duc. “D’Wayn” was a young Shi’Lon Ranger assigned to Vu’Duc, and given a script to read for each call, complete with facial and vocal “tells” for him to decipher. She cut her hair short, and wore a fake moustache for their calls. He chuckled; she had all the Rebel leaders and observers convinced she was the young homosexual man the Rebel Major had to leave behind on Home World. She perfectly
used an exaggerated effeminate voice.
The hidden messages in his call today were the first in many moons. “The customer traffic is steady,” meant Space Cadre ships were now in position around SB5, but still out of scanner range. “Not increasing its growth rate” meant no one else was sent to help him. He had another “asset” in place, a Rebel pilot, but they rarely interacted in their daily routines.
Nephew D’Wayn’s comment, “I do not have your social and marketing skills,” meant the Empire had not gained any further information on Duma Wat’s financial activities; and D’Wayn shook his head twice to ask Steph’N if he had any information on the financial state of the Rebels. When Steph’N rubbed his chin and said, “Keep it going. The family needs more income,” he told C.S. Vu’Duc the Rebels had just received another huge donation from an unknown sympathizer for the Rebellion. The big donations kept pouring in for Duma Wat, and no one loyal to the Emperor knew who was making the donations, or exactly how the funds got into his coffers.
Steph’N finished his drink, showered, and got ready for bed, excited there was factual information for the first time in many months. The power, life support, water purifiers, and oxygen suppliers on board abandoned SB5 had all been restored to full functionality within the last year, thanks to him. He was the Space Base 5 Commanding Officer, in full command there now, and given credit for restoring the old abandoned base. The next phase of SB5 refurbishment was to add more docking stations. It was the newest Rebel stronghold in the Central Core. When the base’s weapons systems were fully functional, it could pose a real threat to the Space Cadre ships, and the Empire. Hopefully, they listened closely to his coded messages over the last few months, and were aware of the danger SB5 now posed.
SB5 was established more than one hundred years ago to provide protection for Ban’Ti and M’Wati. Little Ban’Ti was just on the inner side of the White Belt, and M’Wati just outside the White Belt. They were inhabited, productive, and important planets to the Empire. But the Empire left SB5 adrift after its damage from the bomber asteroid for more than forty years. Ban’Ti and M’Wati were protected only by their Imperial Army troops assigned to the planets now, and regularly-scheduled Space Cadre ships patrolling their sector. Easy pickings for Duma Wat. Now that SB5 was restored, he could potentially exert control over the two smaller planets of the solar system. When SB5 came into closer position to the Central Core planets, Duma Wat could eventually use SB5 as the point of origination to attack Home World and K’Halon Prime.
Steph’N had secretly shorted out circuitry and the power crystals of the base’s weapons systems for months, and his deception had not been detected. Even the weapons control programming was corrupted as much as he could manage. But Steph’N was a Ranger, and not a computer programmer. They would correct his subterfuge soon. He realized every man had his own set of skills, and capacity for knowledge. But every man also had his limitations of competency. There was only so much time to devote to learning. He could only do so much.
Just after 3a.m., the “Intruder Alert” sounded. Steph’N jumped up and quickly dressed. As he was running down the corridor to the bridge, SB5 was hit, and the entire base rocked from the impact. Alarms and sirens shrieked loudly all over the base. A large explosion was felt.
“Status reports now!” Major S’Loc demanded, taking the Captain’s chair on the bridge. The reports came in quickly, and were not good news. An unknown ship had crash-landed on SB5. It had attempted to land on the main deck, but crashed into the engineering section. With so much of SB5 cut off from its original design, there was precious little room for a crash landing. The base’s main power generators were failing. Major S’Loc sounded the “Abandon Ship” alarm, and activated the emergency beacon. He ordered all personnel to evacuate SB5.
“A ship of unknown origin has crash-landed on SB5, taking out engineering. Power generators are down. Life support systems are failing, and temperature is dropping. Water and air purifiers down to 30% and falling. We have to completely shut down and abandon this station now,” Major S’Loc reported to Colonel Vas. “Respectfully request you abandon the station immediately, sir. The ship that crashed into SB5 is not Space Cadre, or any recorded design. No life forms registering, but there are large androids aboard, according to our scanner reports. We have to assume we are under attack, sir, armed with only a few laser rifles.”
Vas replied, “Then evacuate the station. Try to seal off a control area and lock it down. If possible, remain with a squad and investigate the aliens and their ship, Major S’Loc. We must gather as much intel as possible before the Space Cadre ships get here. My ship is leaving in two minutes. A rescue ship will be sent for you. Vas out.”
Steph’N’s deep immersion mission just changed radically. He used the chaos of the Rebels abandoning the base to cover up a call directly to “Father,” the Emperor P’Lau. Steph’N quickly relayed the emergency information, and his new orders from the #2 Rebel Leader, Colonel Vas, to stay and reconnoiter intel on the alien ship and its androids.
Father replied, “Reconnoiter and report. Stay alive, and succeed.”
The Major directed traffic leaving SB5, and asked for volunteers to remain with him. After getting everyone else off the wounded base, Major S’Loc and fifteen volunteers donned space suits, and proceeded to seal off all entryways to the auxiliary bridge and engineering. He shut down all systems except auxiliary life support, and the men made their way to the auxiliary bridge quickly.
In storage was one week’s supply of oxygen, onboard water for four days, and precious little ammo for their laser rifles. They carried all the bread, brown ration pouches, crackers, and bottled drinks the galley had available to the auxiliary bridge. Major S’Loc broke out emergency water, food pouch rations, and first-aid kits. He ordered his men to locate every available space suit, and bring them to the auxiliary bridge, with extra blankets. They were set to observe, reconnoiter intel, and survive.
It was only a few hours before an ES-class warbird landed on the main hangar deck. The volunteers reminded Major S’Loc about their big cache of laser rifles and ammo stored in the cargo bins. From the auxiliary bridge, Major S’Loc and his men watched the Borgund Ranger step out of the warbird and scan the entire deck. He found the cache of weapons and scanned the cargo hold. Soon, the Space Cadre would know of their stored weapons. The Ranger, in his black spacesuit and jetpack, slowly and cautiously flew into the section where the alien ship rested. Several lights were either lit or blinking within the alien craft, but no signs of life were apparent.
“Are the vid cams still working? We’ve got to record the Ranger’s every word and movement,” Major S’Loc said softly, as if the Ranger could hear him. But the cameras worked intermittently, and did not provide the full scope of the damaged alien ship. The Ranger returned, and moved his warbird closer to the damaged alien ship. He attempted to communicate by calling out to anyone who might be aboard the alien vessel. No response came forth. Then, the head of an android raised up and looked out of their ship windows at the Ranger. The Ranger held up his arms to show he was unarmed, and the hatch of the alien ship opened. The Ranger cautiously walked up the hatch, into the alien ship.
For several days, Major S’Loc and his men monitored the Ranger’s attempts to communicate with the alien androids, speaking through the computer translator; holding up hand-made signs with words and letters: math formulas; sign language with his hands; cuneiform lettering; ancient script; and pictographs. Apparently, nothing worked. The Ranger bowed to the androids, and left their ship. He walked aboard his ES warbird.
S’Loc was called to listen to the sound bite half an hour later, when the Rebel vid cams detected music and drumming coming from the ES warbird. The androids entered the ES, and various forms of music and drumming were picked up by their vid cams for hours on end. They could not see exactly what was taking place on the ES warbird, but the androids were eventually seen leaving the ship. In a few minutes, the Ranger approached the alien ship again, and
the androids came out, held up red memory crystals, and then handed them to the Ranger. The Rebel vid cams recorded the androids showing the Ranger how to use the red crystals with some kind of encoder, and talked with the Ranger for a long time, now speaking in his language.
Then one android handed a longer, green crystal to the Ranger, saying, “Caution. Very powerful. Careful.” Major S’Loc watched the exchange in total fascination, as did his crew. The alien androids were exchanging technology with the Ranger. S’Loc tried secretly to erase or corrupt the recordings, knowing his men were actively transmitting them to Duma Wat, but could not do so without being detected. The Ranger returned to his ES and flew off, presumably to the nearest Space Cadre ship.
Having watched the recordings showing the alien androids give red and green crystals to the Borgund Ranger, Duma Wat ordered a Rebel squadron of four fighters to SB5. His intention was to persuade the aliens to share their crystals with his Rebels. But the Ranger returned before the Rebel squadron arrived, landed his ES warbird near the alien ship again, and continued his communications with the androids. When the Rebel squadron identified the ES warbird, they attacked, firing at both ships on the hangar deck, and the alien spacecraft flew off. The Rebel fighters landed their men on the hangar deck, and a fierce fight between them and the Borgund Ranger began.
It was difficult to suppress his smile and feeling of pride as Steph’N watched the seasoned Borgund Ranger expertly kill more than twenty Rebel fighting men. The Ranger had to know he would be killed in a fight against four fully-armed fighters, full of armed Rebels. The Ranger in his black space suit took out as many Rebels as he could in his last stand. The Rebels retreated to their ships after several of their men were killed in action, and flew out of the hangar bay.
Rebel Squadron Leader Petrov ordered the ES to be destroyed, and they fired a plasma disrupter arc cannon shot at the ES warbird. Everything in the hangar deck and adjoining bay was obliterated, and the old base was jolted from the huge explosion. Two of the Rebels who volunteered to wait with Major S’Loc were also killed, hiding too near the cargo bay doorway. The main hangar bay now contained only dust and body shadows.
Dalian Crystals Page 5