A Bellicose Dance

by Patrick M J Lozon

  "Her you mean. We refer to our personified vessels as female – well, at least, I do. Are you familiar with our formal procedure of christening?"

  "No. But I believe I could find out fairly quickly."

  "Let me save you the time. Prior to maiden launch, the builder, or possibly the future Captain, takes a bottle of the finest of wines available and breaks it over the ship's bow. After that, a large celebration takes place with everybody involved in its construction attending."

  "I do not understand this tradition in relation to a beverage, but a celebration can be arranged. We often have assemblies on certain anniversaries. Although this is not a significant day for our race, it is for all involved with the ship's construction. A celebration is a very good idea. I will pass it on to the council. When would you like to arrange this?"

  "Tomorrow's good for me. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the beverage details."

  "We are on our way to see Taldig, would you like to join us?" asked Tsaurau.

  “No. I’ll stay here for a bit,” muttered Ryan under his breath, eyes never leaving the wondrous achievement of technology that lay in front of him.

  The noise level in the enormous hanger lowered to an easy interrupted quiet. The hundreds of Xeronian teams that had once worked feverously on the ship had retired, leaving only a few stragglers, who completed their tasks and left one by one, their equipment in tow. Ryan waited patiently, leaning up against a small cargo mover. As the last technician exited the bay, she ordered the lights off, and the room settled into a gentle darkness.

  The ship's running lights were on, making it stand out prominently in the darkness, commanding attention. It was a bird poised for flight. It stood over 60 meters long, with a wingspan approximately 35 meters from tip to tip. The wings jutted out from an oblong, cylindrical fuselage, the complete shape in the form of a triangle, similar in many ways, to an Earthbound jet fighter. The wings were quite thick. The front burner/gluon disrupters embedded in the front and back sections provided additional power during forward and backward propulsion and complex maneuvering.

  The design deviated in many ways from the standard Xeronian template, most notably the shape, which was not the typical oval. In such vessels, a large percentage of the outer hull was lined with disrupter plates, which provided propulsion in almost any direction required. This allowed for unhindered maneuverability in practically any direction, at any moment. Although this design seemed simple and stable, it was not without problems. Sophistication was hidden within. Routing for multiple disrupter systems filled the internals of the hull competing with the crew and cargo quarters and effectively reducing available real estate for the primary drive circuits. The disrupter plates provided poor external protection and presented the need for heavy internal shielding from X-rays produced for the crew.

  The new ship followed a sleek, winged design with graceful lines that provided lift within a planet's atmosphere. A main burner/gluon disrupter was positioned at the rear of the ship, its plates lining a large sphere at the end of the fuselage. Loss of navigational flexibility is compensated for by additional burner plates strategically located along the rear wings. The rear burner design provides an exponentially higher output than that of a standard plate design, with a limited amount of shielding. Although the new design had reduced maneuverability in comparison to its previous, the new design exceeded in acceleration and ultimately, maximum velocity.

  As an addition to the wings, a vertical stabilizer swept up from the top of the fuselage. It towered above, and at its tip, a large communication antenna jutted outward to the rear. Its spine reached down to its base, which slowly thickened to wrap around the rear spherical main drive burner, hiding a retractable rear cannon where the two met.

  Underneath the ship, following along the belly from the front tip, a polygon section dropped down, starting at a sharp-angled point and branching out in a triangular manner. On its face, matter collector vents would open up during recharging. Near the rear, recessed into the drop-down section, were the main doors to the cargo area and the primary entrance, where ramps would lower to allow entry.

  Above, beyond the wings, near the very front of the ship, lay the pilot's compartment. Large sectioned ports allowed the pilot an external view. Shielding could also project over these sections, providing extra protection in combat situations. From there, the fuselage narrows gradually into a sharp point, from which protrudes a rod, jutting forward as a sword, poised to strike. At the base of the rod is a cone-shaped device with its larger end facing the ship. This device channels a fine spray of antimatter over the ship's hull when the ship makes the jump beyond light speed – most notably, the state of acroluc. The antimatter envelop acts as a catalyst, propelling the ship’s hull matter to an ‘excited’ state, effectively changing its atomic properties. The ship's mass, which inverts within the antimatter blanket, passes beyond the natural limitations of ‘standard matter’. The gluon burners disrupt the lines of gravitation ‘behind’ the ship, and the anti-grav amplifiers reverse the field in front, effectively warping the fabric of space surrounding it, creating the forces necessary to propel the ship along its course. The result enables it to exceed velocities well beyond the speed of light, its only limitation being that of the energy consumed to accelerate it, which remains the governing agent of any starship. The drive system was built with a purposeful imbalance, as its power consumption capable of exceeding the energy stored within its capacitors. However, additional energy is siphoned off the antimatter shielding during flight. Matter, which the ship may collide with in flight, is instantaneously sublimated, converting its molecules into raw energy, which, in turn, recharges the capacitors. The greater the velocity, the larger the forward shield. Too much energy, however, and the system overloads and implodes. This balance is sometimes very difficult to achieve. In such cases, additional mass collection vents are employed to work in conjunction with the antimatter shielding, to drive conversion of plasma and gases into the needed energy.

  The ship’s designed-in gains in performance do not come without a price. If the gluon disrupter and antimatter flow, which are in constant fluctuation, become too far out of balance, the ship could rip apart like an exploding star. Redundant systems maintain that precious balance - a function dutifully overseen by Gem.

  The presence of outside matter would make the jump through to acroluc impossible if it were not for shielding. The local field shrouds the ship and provides an extended buffer area. When a piece of matter, say a small comet, strikes the shielding, its mass is converted into energy which is then dissipated uniformly around the ship. The energy flux is absorbed easily. Realistically, however, this shielding cannot effectively protect the ship from anything that is larger than a 16th of the ship's total mass.

  Ryan knew and understood all of the ship's technical specifications. He could rhyme off any component system in a given order, and break it down to the finest detail. But now he was merely satisfied just to walk around it, and simply admire - her.

  For the first time in a long time, he did not feel so helpless. With this ship, he was not a slave any longer. He had freedom, but most importantly, he had the chance to find Aviore.

  Gem caught his attention. "Hello, Ryan."

  "Ah. You’ve decided to join the living after your crushing defeat, I see.”

  Gem responded with a momentary silence.

  “Ah, don’t take it so hard. I’m just teasing you anyway. Besides, that’s just a game. Where we are going, games don’t matter much.”

  “What are you doing standing out there in the dark?”

  “I am just soaking up some piece of mind, I guess. Admiring a beautiful creation. Gem, maybe you can help me. I'm searching for a name for our ship."

  "Do you have any preferences?"

  "No."

  "If a name is representative of an object, how would you describe this vessel?"

  "Well. She's quite a ship, has a majesty all her own. If she were a woman, I would cons
ider her of the highest order. Royalty. A Queen."

  "You wish to call her Queen?"

  Ryan pondered the question for a time. "Well, she’s graceful, don't you think? Like a dancer."

  "Please clarify."

  "A dancer? A dancer is one who moves to music in such a way as to pull emotions from the people who watch her."

  "What music are you referring to?"

  "The music? Why it's the music of the stars, Gem. You look out there, and it surrounds you. The music is created by the stars themselves."

  "Then we shall call our ship Dancing Queen... Is that satisfactory?"

  It had a nice ring to it. Formal. Graceful.

  "Yes," he nodded, "That sounds right. That is what it should be. We'll call her Dancing Queen!"

  He was pleased, almost foolishly giddy. He had the urge to get in and fly her. But no. Not just yet. It was not ready. But was he?

  "Gem, you think we are ready?"

  "Yes, but we have not, as yet, left the bay. I do not wish to sound overly optimistic, but all tests to date have been exemplary. All design simulations promise excellent capabilities."

  "But the ship has not left its dock. That is the ultimate verdict."

  "I have reviewed the construction schedule. There are some tests that have been passed by."

  "The Xeronians have been building ships for a thousand years. I think we can trust their abilities and their judgment. They have bypassed tests because they’re confident, but also because of me."

  "Because of you? How have you affected their judgment?" queried Gem.

  "I needed them to go as fast as possible. They built this ship in record time, all things considered. It was a combined effort by most of this colony."

  "What is the reason to hurry in such a way?"

  "You and I are going to protect this planet from invasion by two savage races. They call themselves Xilozaks and Txtians, and they are advancing into this sector of space."

  "I see... I will be in danger, won't I."

  "Why, you worried?"

  "No, I am originally from a warship. I have become... familiar with fear..."

  "Fear? You?"

  “I enjoy being alive.”

  “Yeah, so do I, most of the time. But no one gets out alive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We are all going to die sometime. It’s how we live that matters.”

  “And our purpose?”

  “We are going to take down an empire – or die trying. Given the odds, it will probably be the latter.”

  Gem took a moment to respond. "I have a number of archives of battle histories from my previous ship. They may be of help."

  That sparked Ryan's interest. "I’d like to review them, all of them if you can."

  “Just ready yourself, Gem. This is not going to be easy. If you have some things to do to get yourself prepared…”

  “I will prepare. Thank you, Ryan. Will it be alright if I am offline for a short time?”

  “Of course, Gem. Is there something wrong?”

  “My memories of war are not… agreeable. I must come to terms with our purpose in order to work at maximum potential.”

  “And withdrawing from me will help this?”

  “No, I need to perform certain memory optimizations. I must stay objective, you see.”

  “I do. Do what you need to do, my friend.”

  Silence followed.

  Alone again. He gave one more glance at the ship and lay his hand on the hull.

  Soon, Aviore, soon.

  Ryan made it back to his apartment without meeting another soul. Alone in his room, he reviewed the files from ancient wars of long ago. He scrutinized over them multiple times, catching the use of tactics Taldig had never dreamed of discussing. The losers of these conflicts had made mistakes that had cost them dearly, mistakes Ryan was intent on committing to memory - of what not to do. He knew this information could save his life one day. Butterflies danced in his stomach throughout the night. Brandy did nothing to soothe the edginess that engulfed him. Only the compulsive urge to scour through the libraries seemed to calm his fraying nerves. Battles, some in first person perspective, others through observational records, every conflict documented in full detail, some with debriefing testimonials from survivors. The Flukkens had been meticulous in their archives.

  He fell asleep with strategies racing through his mind.

  All battles end in death.

  * * *

  The following day started with a heated discussion between project leads and Ryan.

  "I will not allow it. It is too great a risk!" Tsaurau was as close to demonstrating anger as Ryan had ever seen him. His face was a flustered grayish-pink, his eyes closed slightly. His veins around his bald head throbbed from the beat of his double hearts.

  "Sorry, I am going to do the test flights myself. I cannot risk someone else damaging this ship."

  "But it is not even cleared for flight yet. There is a possibility of catastrophe. You may die!"

  "There is a risk related to getting out of bed. Do not tell me about dying. I have seen enough death for 10 lifetimes. This ship is mine. I fly it, no one else."

  The group members looked at one another. All were obviously upset. "I vote to put this to the council," said Tsaurau.

  Ryan interjected. "No, the decision stops here."

  He scanned their faces. They did not like that. Not at all.

  The group’s looks shifted from expression, giving them away – they were conducting a closed conversation over the Par. Ryan waited patiently. They finally broke up and Tsaurau approached him. "Very well, if you feel you are ready, we will have you perform the tests."

  Ryan smiled from ear to ear. "Good. Then let's get going."

  "No. We need to complete additional hardware analysis and prepare the ship for flight. The capacitors require time to reach a full charge. This will take a full day."

  "Tomorrow then?"

  "Tomorrow... and Ryan, I do not want you to take unnecessary risks. I do concede, however, if anyone is prepared to fly this ship, it is you."

  "I understand your concerns. Put this in context. I am going out there to fight interstellar battles. Don't try to restrain me from testing my own damned ship."

  Tsaurau looked down to the floor. "Yes, of course."

  "Has anyone discussed the christening?"

  "Whenever you are ready, we would be pleased to partake in the ceremony."

  "It's common to release the ship into the water after we break the bottle, but in this case, we'll make an exception. He chuckled at his own joke, contrary to placid looks of his alien friends. “Right, well let’s do this! It's time for a party!"

  Ryan spent the next hour fabricating a proper bottle of wine. When he arrived back at the docking bay, he found the place packed with Xeronians, whole families, including small children and even the Elders. A makeshift stage area was set up under the nose of the ship. Council members and project leads waved him up. As he arrived, warm applause followed.

  Tsaurau leaned over and said in his ear. "We have adapted some Earth customs for this ceremony, in your honor."

  Ryan was truly touched, knowing this all seems very strange to them. He clutched the bottle tightly and faced the crowd. "Thank you, everyone. Especially those who helped build this fine vessel. Thank you, all."

  His voice rang out from invisible loudspeakers, not echoing through the air, but through the Par itself. All Xeronians turned their attention to him. He didn't actually need to talk, but to him, it felt wholly unnatural to stand in front of a crowd and think his speech.

  "The first time I went into space, it was as a captured slave. I didn’t know at the time why I was torn from my home. I didn’t know that I would be sentenced to work the remainder of my life in a mine.”

  “I kept fighting. I watched as others around me died, surrendering to death instead of another day of suffering. I know everyone has lost something in this war, but no one truly dies until they lose th
eir hope."

  Memories flooded back. He pushed them away.

  A small Xeronian child waved at him as he sat perched on his father's shoulders. His eyes squinted a typical Xeronian smile.

  Ryan continued on. "I might have lost hope myself, but I found a friend. I never thought..."

  Emotion welled up inside him. Bosn Gary. Brave as they come. He hadn't expected to lose control. Pull yourself together. You look like a fool.

  The crowd waited patiently. Their pity he did not want. In his mind, he felt the anger start, planted from an undesirable seed. It seemed to explode within his mind, and turn into the face of Xilozak from so long ago. His hate burned like an open fire.

  The time had arrived for retribution.

  “I never thought I’d find another friend. That gave me hope. We managed to escape, but he was injured and eventually passed. Again, I thought I was alone. Until I met you. You welcomed me into your world, invited me to spend time with your families. I learned your history, found that you too are the victims of the same enemy.”

  The crowd shifted a bit uneasily, memories flooding the Par of loss and pain.

  “I am told that some of you believe me to be this protector called the Grafu. I cannot say that I am, or that I am not, but I will do my best to help every one of you."

  A few of the small children ran gleefully through the crowd, blissfully ignoring him. A baby cooed and a mother held it close.

  This was a place of life. He could not bear the thought of these people being flogged by a Xilozak slaver.

  "I give you my word that I will destroy this Empire, or I will die trying."

  Their silence persisted. They did not understand to cheer.

  He took the bottle and held it high in the air. "With this bottle, I christen thee, Dancing Queen, first warship of the Xeronian fleet!" He smashed the bottle into the hull. The simulated red wine dripped like blood off the white hull.

  Again silence.

  Ryan looked over to Tsaurau, who started clapping. The crowd joined in.

  The post-celebration was quiet. Xeronians were not an exciting social race. Ryan mingled, met a few new faces and attempted to play with a couple familiar Xeronian children. He had a few interesting discussions, but he could not shed the feeling in the back of his mind. It nagged at him continually, pulling him away from the reality surrounding him: the feeling of tremendous urgency.