He also learned of the all the known inhabited star systems and the known sentient races. Indeed, the numbers were minimal in relation to the number of habitable planets, with one critical exclusion – the star he referred to as Sol and one particular planet called Earth. As he plowed through the celestial archives, he began to notice a trend. The majority of known races in this small part of the galaxy were under the suppressive control of the Xi-Empire, and these charts gave testament to the true expanse of its power. He eventually focused on one area: the Zegnite quadrant, ground zero, where a massive planet named Xilo resides.
The planet is 1.5 times the size of Earth, orbits around a double sun system and has two large moons. Its surface, once rich in vegetation, seems now to be stifled in a thick haze of pollutants. The hulks of factories and smoking towers rule the landscape. The once beautiful planet’s natural resources have long ago been covered by a network of haphazard buildings, baring little of the original surface. Its natives carry no concern for such loss. They are the soldiers of destruction that carry war to every inhabited planet, fuelled with an endless stream of weapons. Xilo is a planet raped of its natural beauty, dead from generations of abuse. It is an example to others of what not to do, of technology and mechanization gone rampant.
This was the planet where he was destined.
* * *
Tsaurau, Tmaurau, and Taldig met at the base of the newly constructed training simulator. It was not much to look at, a large rectangular box, suspended on a collection of gravitational flux streams. Surrounding it were rows of holographic projectors, all networked together to provide a true-to-life simulation of a moving starship.
"Quite a complex piece of machinery, even though it’s damn ugly," stated Ryan.
"Yes, it is, on both counts. But it is designed to provide you with the closest to actual conditions as you will find in space, on a planet's surface, or literally, anywhere we wish to test your abilities," informed Tsaurau.
Taldig decided to add some words of encouragement. "With this tool, Ryan, you will learn to master every aspect of your ship."
Ryan looked back at Taldig with a wry grin. "We'll see about that."
"Go ahead, get in!"
He climbed up the small flight of stairs into the simulation module's cockpit and reached instinctively for the airlock controls on the virtual console. A few buttons pressed, and the doors slid shut with a hiss. He surprised himself when he realized what he had done. The conditioning program had already buried the knowledge deep into his subconscious. He had never been in here, but he was intimately familiar with the instruments around him. He knew where every display, every monitor, every holographic projector was. The virtual consoles, configurable to match the ship’s controls, were laid out exactly in the expected format. The only exception seemed to be the forward controls.
It was as if he could not remember the detail quite as clearly as he wished. Things were just a bit fuzzy. All he needed was to get reacquainted.
The chair fitted itself to his body. He sighed.
Like he was supposed to be here.
He pulled up a mental inventory list and started from the top: the geostatic capacitor level meters, the matter intake port controls, the leveling booster controls. He reached down to his left.
Something was amiss.
He scanned the panel.
Where was it?
"What is the problem, Ryan?" He heard through his vaskpar.
"What are you guys doing out there, monitoring every damn thing I do? I'm not a monkey you know."
"No, you are not a monkey. We need to monitor all bodily and mental functions as part of your training."
"Yeah, yeah, you put it out on your network in living color so the whole world can see when I screw up. Anyway, where are the laser cannon controls!"
"We have had a problem with the weapon systems. Only the missiles are available."
"What the hell," cursed Ryan. He marched out, slammed the open switch, and stood at the door, to look down at the small group of Xeronians. "Look, I know that you don't feel the need for these weapons, but I am going up against the most powerful warships in the known galaxy. I cannot fight the Xi-Empire with just missiles. If I am going to stay alive, I need an arsenal of weapons. The laser cannons were in the original design, whoever took them out can damn well put them back in!"
"We were not able to build the cannon within the satisfactory performance requirements," reported one of the engineers,
"Why didn't someone mention this to me? I understand the principals well enough."
Tsaurau spoke up. "I see you are beginning to reap the benefits of your increased knowledge, possibly by leveraging it in your favor?"
Ryan grinned. "Remember," he projected his voice so everyone could hear, "as I said before, it is my butt on the line out there. I will not board that ship until I feel I will have adequate protection in a battle situation. Tmaurau, I know you can help - I need more armament than this."
"Yes, I believe you have stated your case convincingly. Considering the situation, we can adjust the schedule to do some refitting. Your input will be required."
* * *
The resulting modifications were not too severe. Tmaurau's intimate knowledge of ship's systems helped with the integration. The front section of the wings would conceal four retractable liquid-cooled laser cannons, each capable of channeling a persistent pulse beam with an extended range dispersion factor of less than 5% over hundreds of thousands of kilometers - within the relative vacuum of space. A tail-mounted cannon with the same specifications was also added, along with a retractable belly turret, plus a retractable top mid-fuselage turret. The missile launch hatches were repositioned to a separate area under the wings.
As promised, the prototype cannon proved unsatisfactory. They matched the specifications found on the old Flukken warship, but not the new requirements defined in Tmaurau’s designs.
Ryan and the engineers reviewed the design from the bottom up. Fundamental problems were analyzed, and a more thorough understanding followed. The Par proved indispensable in sharing ideas. It promoted creativity on a scale Ryan had never known. Breakthroughs were made. New materials introduced. Before long, a new prototype was ready.
The test was to be staged near the northern pole, far from the colony. A single cannon, mounted onto a squat armored mobile tank, facing the base of a 10 kilometer high mountain.
Tsaurau, Taldig, Tmaurau, and Ryan watched on a plateau five kilometers from the site. Their white environment suits reflected the repressive heat bearing down onto them from the fiery sun.
Ryan kicked at a tiny dancing spiral of dust before him. "Are we ready?"
The announcement rushed silently over the Par: "Countdown commencing 7..6..5..4..3..2..1..Firing."
A bolt of white energy hit the mountain with the action of a titanic drill, cutting through it with the pulverizing force of an atom bomb. The ground shook as the mountain began to crumble. Huge cracks swept from the base to peak, and gigantic splinters fell away, crashing down, folding over and over into the valley below.
As suddenly as it started, it was over.
The prevailing winds carried off the dust slowly. Sunlight burnt onto the cold valley that had previously laid in shadow for uncounted years.
The mountain stood no more.
The four stared down gravely at the destruction below. Their prototype was gone, buried under millions of tonnes of rock, but the test was a success.
"Wow, think we have out-done ourselves this time. That was more powerful than any of us expected," stated Ryan flatly.
"Each of the five primary cannon on your ship will have similar capabilities," informed Tmaurau. "We hope that this will be sufficient."
The Xeronians headed back to the flyer, leaving Ryan standing at the edge of the plateau, alone. The gritty taste of sand seemed to have somehow permeated into his helmet and the sun seemed hotter than before. He looked down at the destruction, and the wind howled, as if it kn
ew he was to blame.
It had better be enough.
* * *
The trip home was quiet. Ryan, slightly bored, tried to drum up a conversation. "Tsaurau, I was reading up on the accounts of the last year of Xeronia. There were some facts that you neglected to tell me, some very impressive details. I must say, you people have more iron in you than you give yourselves credit for."
"I do not understand the relationship between the iron mineral and that of giving ourselves credit."
Tmaurau agreed. "It is a puzzle."
"Earthmen have a strange way of communicating," commented Taldig.
"As an elaboration of my slang terminology, iron was used as an adjective. I superimposed the properties of iron such as hardness and toughness to your people's core personalities, your will, if I may."
"I see. Thank you." Tsaurau nodded back. "And what is the source of this compliment?"
"Your planet's council had a backup plan in the event that a doomsday weapon was released upon Xeronia. That, I did not expect."
The Xeronians nodded silently, the typical expressionless look upon their faces. Taldig turned to stare out the viewport.
"So it is true?"
"Yes. Although such information has been removed from the archives. It is curious that you have discovered that particular fact. We considered it better to let such things fade to obscurity over the years."
"I discovered it within an indistinct history library. It's my understanding that the proposition from that idea came from Taldig's own Strategic Branch. Is that also true, Taldig?"
Taldig turned back. "Yes. I was the leader of the Strategic Logistical Council. I originated the idea. It was implemented with full intention to be initiated. As you know, our ship was one of the last colony expeditions to escape. Everyone knew that our luck would not hold out indefinitely. I was chosen, or to be more blunt, instructed, to go along with this expedition. Apparently, I have the strategic skills to keep the colony alive. I know differently now. Had I known they actually would have used it, I would have stayed behind. I am not proud of it."
"But you should be. You forced the sun to supernova after they destroyed your planet. You wiped out 80% of the Xi-Empire's fleet in one shot. It was brilliant."
"We took the offensive when it was pointless to do so."
"It was your right to self-protection. It took the Empire years to rebuild their fleet, and that bought your colony ships time to escape and hide. It was the right thing to do. You should put that information into your children's education. You must teach them that they have the right to take the offensive when they are in danger."
The other two Xeronians looked at him in utter shock, eyes wide, faces stretched taut. "No, we cannot do that!" Tsaurau said incredulously.
Ryan shook his head in frustration. "You people drive me crazy! Don't you think I would appreciate some help to fight these creatures? You want me, with one ship, to go out and face the whole damn Empire alone, to destroy their military presence that now spans over light-years."
Taldig interrupted. "Yes, their reach is very expansive. But because of this, you will not have to fight the entire Xi-Empire's fleet at once. Their ships are scattered. Their strength not focused. We do expect you will find help. There are others. Word will spread and help will come. You will become the most powerful voice in this galaxy because you will stand against the Xi-Empire. Others will follow you because they respect your bravery. You will see this happen. It is prophecy."
Ryan looked out the viewport, out to the horizon. No use arguing with them on their fanciful prophecies. To master the sciences and technology, and still believe in magic.
The small ship was descending, in seconds darkness swallowed them as they ducked into the shadow of the mountain. Ryan took the last few minutes to reflect on the archives he found. The Xeronian military efforts were purely defensive, never assuming the offensive. They would not, or maybe even could not, fight back. Even Taldig's reaction to their use of the supernova weapon seemed contradictory to everything he seemed to be teaching. Maybe that's why they needed him. They needed someone more... savage. Fine. He was savage, and yes, he would use such a weapon, if not as a deterrent, then as a last line of defense.
"Taldig. Consider this a formal request for you to dig up the plans used to build that doomsday bomb, or whatever it was that made your sun go supernova."
An Xeronian equivalent of the look of shock crept over their features. For a second Tsaurau looked like he was about to say something, but even he retracted and chose to remain silent. Taldig surprised him with an answer. "We will find the plans, but care must be taken. You must not employ such a weapon without considering the ramifications."
"I’ll use it if I have to, and only if I have to, and when the time comes, I will not hesitate."
* * *
7. The Dancing Queen
P iloting a starship was not easy. Ryan crashed so many times he had lost count. Total concentration was required at the controls, and he found it difficult given his numerous diversions. To top it off the Xeronian training team was unforgiving, practically ruthless, as they pushed him to the limit on every virtual flight.
Angry and frustrated, he fought to ignore them outright, as it was the best way to avoid lashing out at them. Even Tsaurau left him alone.
Weeks passed before things started to improve. He was finally achieving what Taldig had sought to teach him, to literally feel every facet of the ship around him.
Drills that had once ended in catastrophe he now passed with ease. But each time he began to acquire some grain of confidence, they altered the tests.
Gem was allowed to help him at this level. She kept Ryan informed of critical information as he piloted the ship through the maneuvers. Despite the help, failure was unavoidable just the same.
Taldig poked his head into the simulator before one of the training exercises. "Are you finding the vaskpar helpful?"
"Yeah. Huge help. I gather that part of my training was to go through all this anguish manually. Have to say I really appreciated that."
"One truly learns by making mistakes. Reliance on control systems and other aids does little to expand one’s abilities. The pilot must be able to handle the ship and simultaneously interpret the incoming data."
"Right. Well, your team has no lack of imagination in their testing scenarios.”
“You will be happy to note we are beginning the strategic training phase. I am very interested in how you will fare. I have faith the first few trials will be relatively easy for you. The remainder will be most challenging."
He gave Ryan the thumbs up. "What is it you say? Good luck!"
"Yeah, thanks."
He sat back and let out a breath before acknowledging the team to trigger the next session.
Everything seems more difficult in the beginning.
* * *
The ship was approaching completion and Gem's connections were almost at 100%. The engineers kept her preoccupied running tests and processing the result data, but Gem had grown far beyond their process controls. She was alive, feeling and seeing through thousands of sensors and devices. Sensations flooded her systems with raw data that required attention and focus.
No one noticed the changes in the sentient system. Even Ryan was too busy to pay attention to Gem. His attention remained on the last phases of construction, which focused on the internal layout of the ship’s construction. He insisted that his designs supersede the more homogenous Xeronian designs. They conceded, largely because the pilot should, in all respects, have final say. Many details had to be reworked, including the color schemes. The Xeronian's infatuation with white was not shared by Ryan, who felt that the introduction of some variety of color and texture brought a touch of humanity to the ship's interior. The exterior hull, however, remained a bright, gloss white. In the end, this was an acceptable compromise.
In the evenings, Gem would often pester Ryan to play chess. As the games had become quite long, they agreed to im
pose a time limit per move. This did little to improve Ryan's game although he did manage, with more surprise than satisfaction, to bring the game to a draw.
Gem expressed what one could consider outright annoyance.
“I request another game. This success is a product of random chance.”
Ryan laughed. “Don’t like being beat, I see.”
“You are mistaken. I was not beaten. This was a draw.”
“Alright then, we’ll go again tomorrow. We’ll see if my playing was mere luck or not.”
The following games became true duels. Ryan was determined to push further, and he varied his strategies doggedly, while Gem had no intention of ever ending another in a draw.
Tsaurau, who learned of the recent win from Ryan, monitored the matches out of interest sake. It took three games before Gem miscalculated and Ryan claimed checkmate.
Tsaurau was absolutely amazed. How was this possible? The server had the ability to examine almost every permutation. Perhaps its resources were overloaded by the Xeronian technicians’ processing?
“Very strange. Perhaps we should take the server offline for diagnosis?” the Xeronian offered.
Ryan only laughed, enjoying the moment. “Why? Everyone and everything will make a mistake eventually. People slip. Machines glitch.”
Gem sank into a self-inflicted depression, losing herself in an unending array of self-diagnostic checks, retreating from everyone - at least for a time.
* * *
At last, the ship was finished, albeit untested. Tsaurau, Tmaurau, and Ryan stood back and studied their creation with admiration.
"She needs a name," advised Ryan.
"A name? Oh yes, that peculiar custom of Earthmen to personify their vessels. What would you propose we name this vessel?" asked Tsaurau.
A Bellicose Dance Page 24