A Bellicose Dance

by Patrick M J Lozon

  A small hesitation followed as she collected her strength. "My fellow councillors and I bid you farewell, my friend. Go with courage."

  They left then, Tseman first, the others following respectfully. Tsaurau and Ryan watched quietly.

  There was nothing more to say.

  When they had all filed out, Tsaurau took a few moments to inspect Ryan’s hand. "We must attend to these wounds immediately."

  "No, I must leave."

  "We must complete the flight tests before you do."

  "I can't wait another day, Tsaurau. You saw her! By now you understand that, don't you?"

  "Yes, but we must perform these tests. They may reveal problems that will need to be addressed. The ship is not yet proven. If you want to save her, you must ensure your vessel is spaceworthy."

  Ryan nodded, knowing they could not avoid the flight tests. It was foolhardy otherwise.

  "Once we finish, I head out. We complete only what’s critical. I can perform other tests while in flight."

  "Very well,” conceded Tsaurau with a slight nod. “And do not forget to reflect upon what you have witnessed. Do not disregard Tseman's wisdom. Look for the clues. They will help you."

  Ryan shook his head. "I don't understand it all. I was there, on Xilo itself. But it wasn’t a dream, wasn’t a hallucination, so what was it?”

  Tsaurau only shrugged.

  “Then I know where I need to go. That is where I must start searching."

  "You realize you may find more than you are prepared for, and she was not alone. If you rescue her, then you must rescue the others as well."

  "Yes, of course, I know. And you know I'll need to bring them back to someplace safe. Many will be suffering from malnutrition and sickness. Are you, I mean, your people, are they willing to help? Can I bring them here?"

  "We will do what is required of us. It is our way."

  Ryan rested his good hand on the Tsuarau’s shoulder. "You never know. I may even find volunteers to fight alongside me. They may need someone to teach them, too."

  "What you ask may be challenging. This may take some time."

  "I realize that, but I cannot fight this war alone."

  "Then we will be prepared for your return, and for your cargo."

  "Then let's get to work."

  * * *

  Ryan sat in the pilot's chair, scanning the system feeds. The burners were already fired up, and the anti-gravs were humming cheerfully. The Xeronian technicians watched apprehensively as Ryan passed through his list of checks, verifying every system, step after step, test after test. A crew of engineers stationed aboard constantly cycled the systems through diagnostics and others coordinated subsystem tests.

  Preliminary checkout passed. The signal was given.

  The bay doors slid open to angry, swirling-red skies.

  Ryan pulled the Dancing Queen up to a hover and eased her out of the bay, filling the room with a deafening roar as the burners pushed on. The ship inched out into the open air, its nose pushing through the red-devil winds. In a second she was free.

  The first bout of turbulence attempted to drive her into the side of the mountain, but Ryan's ingrained reflexes guided her out of danger with graceful ease. His confidence strengthened as the Dancing Queen responded with unblemished perfection.

  On board the ship was organized chaos. Gem wrangled through hundreds of internal tests. The Xeronians chattered back and forth excitedly, many relaying incomplete sentences to one another, as their vaskpar link carried the corresponding tidbits of unpronounced thoughts.

  Ryan closed all the intercom channels, as well as his mind, to the Par, effectively blocking all of them out, except for, of course, Gem.

  It was real. An impossible dream had become real. He could feel the ship around him as an extension of his own body. He felt her pulse through his veins like red-hot steel. The link to Gem, and to the ship, was direct. It was impossible to explain. Such power. Such untested strength.

  "All systems operating within acceptable limits." Gem relayed.

  Tsaurau's face showed up on the communications monitor. "We're switching to standard communications channels now, Captain. The Par has limited range, and its security must be protected. This will be your first time piloting in space, how do you feel?"

  Ryan smiled, a little nervously. "I'm ready. It's these damn technicians crawling all over the place that makes me nervous."

  "Do not worry, remember your training and you will do fine."

  "Standby for direct ascension… starting... Now."

  He thumbed the vertical burners, putting the ship to an 80 degree angle and poured on the power to the main drive. The anti-gravs whined in protest, and the ship climbed, vibrating only slightly. He straightened her out, adjusting trim for the winds, and continued the climb, monitoring the displays and the feeds through the vaskpar. He cycled through the ship's systems stats in microseconds.

  "We have a small coolant leak within the port wing adjacent to the rear burner plates, the backup has been activated," Gem warned.

  "I noticed. Well if anything is going to bust, let it be now. I don't want to be stranded and helpless in Xi-Empire space," returned Ryan. As if on queue, he felt a slight vibration, slowly rising in intensity.

  "Gem, you find the cause yet?" he asked.

  "We are experiencing problems with the harmonic balancing in the gluon disrupter drive. The problem appears to be in the electron dispersal circuitry."

  The vibration grew steadily worse. Within the minute it was shaking so badly everything looked blurry. "Gem, I am going to abort ascension if this keeps up."

  "We have isolated the problem to the harmonic balancing feed controls. It is software related. I am attempting to repair the control logic."

  Suddenly, as quickly as it started, the vibration disappeared. A familiar voice perked up. "The new subroutines are in place, modification was successful."

  "Good work. I was beginning to get a little nervous. Save me from looking will you and tell me, are there any other problems I should know about?"

  "There are thirty-seven issues in all. The technicians are working on them. None will interfere with the ship's operational tests."

  Through the viewport, Ryan could see the red atmosphere was still falling away as the Dancing Queen climbed out into space. Moments later the stars broke through, shining with a sharp, cold beauty.

  He thumbed the com. "Everything A-OK. Beginning second phase tests on T-minus 30."

  He ran the necessary checks and readied the antimatter dispersal flows. The capacitor readings dipped slightly.

  "Shield established," he reported.

  "T-minus 5..4..3..2..1." He engaged the burners to full capacity. The ship leapt forward at an incredible rate.

  "Beginning side roll now."

  The ship began to rotate, using the fuselage as the center of its axis. The outside view was dizzying. Ryan pulled his eyes from it and watched his controls.

  "All stress monitors show readings well within operating limits. I suggest an end-for-end roll," said Gem.

  "That's not on the test schedule, they'll have a shit fit!" replied Ryan.

  He swore he heard Gem laugh - was that possible? He thumbed the com again. "Tsaurau, we're going to do some fancy maneuvering."

  "You are getting dangerously near the second moon," commented Tsaurau.

  "Don't worry, even if we have a problem, it'll be a fly by."

  "Let me confer with the engineers."

  Ryan wasn't about to wait. He pulled the rotating ship into an end-for-end roll. He knew it was going to be fun pulling out of this.

  "Anti-grav three out of harmonic. The new motion has upset the gravitonic sensors," reported Gem.

  "Can you repair?"

  "No. Recommend realignment of the ship to course."

  "Negative. Be ready for fail-over. I intend to burn these suckers out. If they can't take the punishment, I don't want them in my ship."

  "Within 1000 kilometers from the mo
on," reported Gem.

  "The extra gravitational distortion should tax her to the limit," Ryan commented.

  "500 kilometers, approaching zenith. Gravitation approximately 1.4 at zenith."

  Ryan experienced a momentary feeling of nausea, but it passed.

  "Anti-grav three just failed, load transfer compensation successful," reported Gem.

  "That gravity flux almost made me sick," complained Ryan. "Are the technicians working on it?"

  "Yes, they are in the process of troubleshooting. I suspect a full unit analysis will need to be done back at base."

  Ryan decided he was tired of the reeling view outside. He straightened out the ship like an old pro. It wasn't as tough as he thought it would be. He was beginning to get the hang of this. "Gem, you think the remaining anti-gravs can compensate?"

  "Yes, the remaining units are operating perfectly."

  He triggered the com, "Tsaurau, proceeding to acroluc."

  "Good luck, Captain."

  He checked the flight path, made a few small adjustments before the ship was aligned. "Ready to engage acroluc drive at T-minus 30." He checked and double-checked the readings. Everything was ready.

  "5..4..3..2..1. Engaging."

  The Dancing Queen's first jump to acroluc was unremarkable. The antimatter ejection system bathed them in bright, white light. Instantly they were transformed into a hurtling bolt of energy. "1, 1.5, 2.5 acroluc. Pulling back and leveling off. Systems registering A-OK up here, Xeronian base. Standby to drop out at T-minus 5..4..3..2..1."

  As they dropped out of acroluc Ryan's back felt like it was on fire. It took a moment for him to realize it was the ship he was feeling.

  "Gem, what the hell was that!"

  "A misalignment in the antimatter dispersal field. One of the dispersal funnels will have to be adjusted. It is a minor problem."

  "Great." He shifted in the seat, not appreciating the uncomfortable feeling.

  "We’ve a bit of a burn going on, but we're alright."

  "Weapons testing remaining," commented Tsaurau.

  "I'm turning her around now." He swung the Dancing Queen around and headed back for Xeronia launching into acroluc. In seconds, the barren planet was bright in his viewport. He spotted a few small asteroids within sensor range. They had been captured by the planet's gravitation and pulled into orbit. He activated the four forward cannons. The wing armor slid back, retracting to allow the cannons to project outward.

  He thumbed the com. “Everyone, please standby for weapons testing.”

  He fired each cannon successively and each destroyed their targets with precision. Flipping to rear cannon control, he maneuvered the ship and fired again. The target disappeared in a burst of microdust.

  He flipped the com link. "All primary cannons passed, engaging secondary.”

  The upper and lower turrets fired on automatic, eliminating what remained of the targets.

  “Well, no problems so far.”

  He scanned the tracing sensors. No other workable targets in range.

  “Aligning missile on to the moon. All, standby for missile launch in 5.4.3.2.1.”

  The missile launched from the forward bay without issue.

  Ryan traced it as it traveled, then triggered self-destruct. “Suggestion to belay remaining launch tests. No need in wasting further ordnance.”

  Tsaurau conferred to the engineers behind him. "We agree."

  Ryan mentally flipped through the testing checklist. "All tests are complete, returning to home base." He retracted the cannon and the turrets. The shielding locked back in place. He brought the ship back down through the maze of towering mountains as fast as he dared, and reached the Xeronian hanger within minutes. The Dancing Queen taxied smoothly over the docking bay floor. The tests were, for the most part, successful. A few modifications, a few repairs, and everything would be ready to go.

  Xeronian crews swarmed toward the ship armed with a collection of tools and parts. Tsaurau was there to meet him as he exited the ship. "Very good maiden voyage, Captain."

  "She's everything I expected and more." Ryan offered his hand. Tsaurau's grip was tight. A silent moment passed between them. Promises had been made, and kept.

  "I know you wish to leave as soon as possible, but can you do one last thing? Join me and my family for a meal. This is, as I understand, an Earth custom."

  Ryan took a quick appraising glance at his ship and the scurrying work crews. "I expect they'll be busy with that anti-grav unit for some time. Sure. I'd be glad to."

  "I only ask that you refrain from eating what you refer to as steak. It would make my wife uncomfortable."

  Ryan laughed, "Whatever you offer, I'll eat."

  The meal was delicious. Tsaurau's wife, who had researched Ryan’s files for examples of earth-cooking, proudly served an elaborate spread that would have been a vegetarian's dream. Ryan's portion was considerably larger than the others, as the Xeronian diet was sparse at best. Tsaurau's two children watched him eat with wide-eyed fascination. A silent sharp look from their mother quickly diverted their attention.

  "You will be missed. Your presence has been refreshing," she offered. She was a pleasant, quiet woman, slightly older than Tsaurau, although he could not discern it.

  "No. It is I who will miss all of you. You and your people, are like a family to me."

  "That is an honorable compliment. We thank you. We feel as you have also become a family member to us."

  The announcement came over the Par: the ship was ready.

  Ryan rose.

  "Wait. Let me join you," Tsaurau asked hurriedly. "I'll just need a moment to change my attire."

  "I'll wait."

  His wife smiled back at him - a human smile. Her lips curled up, but the effect, on her, looked uncomfortable. She had done it for him out of courtesy, but Ryan had become accustomed to their Xeronian expressions. It suited them.

  "You are a good friend to Tsaurau. He will miss you."

  "Hopefully, I'll return to enjoy another of your fantastic meals."

  "I will welcome that time."

  Tsaurau rushed back into the dining area. "I'm ready," he announced, slightly out of breath. When they started for door Tsaurau's youngest pulled on Ryan's pant leg. "You will protect us, Earthman?" he asked innocently.

  "Yes, I'll try my best."

  A crowd had gathered in the bay to see him off. Taldig, Tmaurau, and a few of the doctors and engineers Ryan had worked closely with. They formed a line and each shook his hand, then offered a small comment of encouragement. Tsaurau was last. They shook hands solemnly.

  "Stay alive my friend. I want my children to know you as they grow up."

  "I will. Take care of yourself and your family... and thank you again. You saved my life."

  "This is your destiny. I am only part of it. May your God help guide you."

  Strange thing to say, for an atheist, but then again, they have their own form of religion.

  He went up the ramp quickly, not looking back. The hatch retracted and sealed behind him. It took only a few moments to reach the cockpit. The crowd retreated quickly to a safe area as a silent siren sounded throughout the Par. The immense bay door slid open once more to the dust-filled winds. It was night outside and black as pitch. Ryan flipped on the running lights and raised the ship up to a crawling hover. He could see the crowd waving to him on the monitors as he moved away. Taking a deep breath, he brought the rear burners online and slowly moved out into the night. The colossal door slid back slowly until the last crack of light disappeared from sight. Once closed, it blended perfectly with the mountain's rock face, as if it had never been there.

  Ryan pulled the nose toward the sky and fired the burners to full power. The Dancing Queen shot upwards, climbing higher and higher, up and into the stars.

  * * *

  8. First Engagement

  T he word had spread like an unchecked wildfire. The infamous Tarvok Zorlog had been captured. Such an event tended not to go unnoticed. On
the way to Xilo, the small convoy accumulated escorts: wealthy aristocrats of the Empire, curious sightseers, the odd vengeful slaver. Most of them would welcome Zorlog's death. Zuvok Zerg himself had toyed with the idea of blasting the Gohk II into dust, but he knew that would be unwise. The onerous Xilozak belonged to a very special organization which would not regard such an action forgivable. One does not kill the unofficial leader of the Purist movement without, possibly, launching a civil war. And he was, after all, under the protection of the Emperor.

  On board the Gohk II, Zorlog paced the bridge with frustration. He was not happy with the recent turn of events. He preferred to have control of the situation and did not appreciate times when he did not monopolize the game at hand.

  "The Zuvok is hailing us, my Tarvok," his communications Avok reported.

  "Put him on."

  Zerg's image appeared. The Zuvok looked too jovial for Zorlog’s taste.

  "Zerg," he acknowledged, “What do you want now?”

  "Tarvok Zorlog, as we are in the final segment of our excursion to Xilo, are there any last wishes you would like to make?"

  "Your humor turns my stomach, Zuvok. Is it wise to consider me just a Tarvok? Perhaps you must attempt to remind yourself that I agreed to accompany you of my own accord. It is just like you to claim victory when a battle was never fought. I would welcome an engagement with you. Your kind makes war enjoyable. You are too smug, too confident, and always too predictable."

  Zerg's jovial expression melted away, exposing an ugly layer of contempt. "When we arrive, ensure you do not stir up any trouble, Zorlog. Things are unsettled enough on Xilo."

  "I am here as a sign of respect to the good Emperor. Is that not enough? However, if things digress, and I find I have been brought here under false pretenses to answer to criminal accusations, do not expect the situation to improve.”

  "You're here because the Emperor wants you dead. It's just a matter of time for you, Zorlog."