Star Force: Excursion (SF46)

by Aer-ki Jyr

  “And now?” Davis asked, glancing at Morgan, who wore nothing more than her white with black stripe striker uniform, as opposed to the set of red adept armor that she insisted he wear whenever they went on one of their field trips.

  “We broke the broods apart at birth and created new ones without all the old baggage. At present there are over 2,000 of them, and we create new ones as needed. When an infant is born, whether male or female, their lineage is hidden and they’re assigned to a discovery facility like this. They have to earn their bloodline association through completing their basic training, which usually takes them to the age of 5 or 6. Those you see down there don’t know which brood they are, but they want to know, which drives them on.”

  “How long does their childhood last?”

  “They’re fully mature at two and a half years, but will continue to grow in size for another 10 or so. They used to say that was just for the males, but once we put the females into training they began to grow beyond their normal size as well, but still far less than the males.”

  “So these can reproduce?”

  “We keep them segregated so they can’t. Once they earn their brood they’re moved to other facilities where their seconds stage of training occurs, which is still segregated. When they graduate from that they move into an integration period, out of which they can join Calavari society or continue on with advanced training.”

  “What’s the current split?”

  “We’re getting about 40% going on. The rest usually go turtle and start giving birth, but the underlying experience they gained from the training has had a decided shift in their society, leaving those born here very different from the refugees.”

  “Trouble between the two?”

  “There has been, but it’s fading as the generations wash.”

  “So the females still identify heavily with the broods, but the males don’t care?”

  “Oh they care, but more as a hobby. They have a very strong loyalty to their race that supersedes their brood…while the stagnant females tend to show the reverse. The ones that join the males tend to open their eyes to the greater whole, but on an individual basis. They develop a rogue mentality, creating two very different female personas. Those you see here are more uniform, having yet to make that split.”

  “How do they respond when their newborns are taken away?”

  “The refugees are very resistant, and we’ve had some incidents, but those born into these maturias are reluctant at worst. They understand where their younglings will go. The refugees do not and are understandably concerned.”

  “How are the refugee broods handled?”

  “They retain their old identity, but their younglings are randomly assigned to a new one. Trying to get them to accept a new brood is like getting gravity to push. Doable, but very difficult. We found it easier to just make a place for them until the old broods die out, unfortunately. Very few Calavari have achieved self-sufficiency, even with their ambrosia.”

  “How many is very few?”

  “Enough for an upper echelon to develop. Their leadership has stabilized, but it’s not very deep.”

  “Have any of the females?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  Davis watched the small Calavari continue moving about like ants, carrying the weights across the short distances with the tallies being marked up, making it clear what they were accomplishing.

  “What do the points result in?”

  “Perks and property. The stagnant females won’t cohabitate with non-broodmates. Rather than try and break them of this we turned it to our advantage. Each brood has a base amount of habitats, enough to hold their population uncomfortably. To get more living room they have to earn it, with the younglings’ points figuring in. The bulk of the points come from the habitats themselves, where the stagnant ones have to do some work or learn to live a bit overcrowded. All the work they do is brood related, but there’s considerable pressure for the younger females to do part-time work, maybe a 6 month stint or so, so the older ones can sit on their ass,” Morgan said disapprovingly.

  “Any rebellion there?”

  “Usually the rebellion occurs by the females simply leaving to do work that benefits all Calavari…and their brood doesn’t get points for that, so they’re pretty much going rogue.”

  “Where do they live if they go rogue?”

  “Standard Star Force quarters. If we can encourage them to break with the broods, then there’s no problem, but there seems to be a strong default bonding urge that has to be broken on an individual level, so this is the method we’ve established to facilitate that.”

  “Getting unplugged from the Matrix?”

  Morgan looked at him, a bit surprised. “Well said.”

  Davis smiled beneath his helmet. “I got tired of you guys throwing out references I didn’t understand, so I asked for a list and went on a movie binge a few centuries back.”

  “How’s the weight?”

  “Tolerable, but I don’t know how many more hours I’m going to last.”

  “Let’s get moving then. There’s something else I want you to see today.”

  “Lead on,” Davis said, feeling the slight burn in his muscles from moving the armor around, something he hadn’t trained for.

  He followed her easy gait down out of the open air of the planet and into one of the Calavari buildings that was a mix of Star Force and their native architectural preferences. They passed by hundreds of the Calavari on their way through the infrastructure, drawing many glances, but none that lingered, for while Humans weren’t common place in this complex, they were a familiar sight elsewhere on the planet.

  While sections still housed refugees in a holding fashion, the bulk of the planet’s infrastructure was 100% Star Force, meaning integrated cities built for the use of both races. The Calavari were part of Star Force now, and as such having Humans walking around wasn’t a big deal.

  But where Morgan took him next was a bit different. She didn’t don her armor, which may have seemed a bit reckless to others but Davis knew that with her psionic powers she could disrupt multiple minds and hinder any potential attackers. Still, he was glad for his own armor protection as they got off of a tram and crossed through a security checkpoint into one of the refugee sectors.

  Davis didn’t need psionics to pick up a very different vibe here. As alien as the other Calavari had been, there had always been a thread of similarity that he could latch onto…and now he recognized how that thread had been Star Force training rather than something inherent to their race. As the pair of Humans walked through the high ceilinged walkways that stood three stories and were just as wide, giving the large bodied males that predominated the area plenty of room to maneuver.

  Davis could see many more up on the 2nd and 3rd tier walkways where their quarters had their entrances. Many of the males were simply lounging around on the narrow platforms, leaning or sitting and watching the foot traffic below. A few females were seen moving about, but it was obviously apparent that they didn’t want to be caught outside unless necessary, keeping inside as Morgan had said.

  “Has there been trouble here?”

  Not much, she answered telepathically now that there were non-Star Force personnel around, hearing Davis’s voice in her earpiece. There is a lot of despair. Remember, these people came from a war zone where they lost, badly. Some are able to put it aside and look towards the future…but most of those have already left these areas for training programs. Those that choose to stay here are, frankly, a shambles.

  “Are you giving them space or are they refusing to do anything?”

  We haven’t pushed. After what they’ve been through just being alive is a victory.

  “But their offspring go to the maturias?”

  Yes. And most of the females don’t like it. The males could care less, for the most part. Some here are still awaiting training slots, so it’s not entirely the emotional slum you see here.

  “Not the t
erm I would have used.”

  What would you use?

  “Dangerous.”

  That’s your ignorance talking. I don’t fear them. Can you touch their minds?

  “I haven’t tried,” Davis said, reaching out with his limited Ikrid ability. He got a wash of weird, alien thoughts, but using what he’d learned of the Star Force Calavari’s minds in previous days he got a basic correlation…then began to see how much different their emotions were, and how they were clouding out everything else. He did feel anger in one of the people they passed, but mostly he felt evisceration. They didn’t want to be here, but had no home to go to, leaving them without purpose and no reason to continue living.

  “They’re zombies.”

  But they’re alive, and so long as they’re alive they have a chance to recover, she told him as the pair’s path was blocked by an extra large Calavari who had to stand upwards of 8 feet tall.

  “What do you want here, Human?” it asked in the trade language.

  “I want you to retrieve your honor,” Morgan bit back in a language Davis didn’t speak, with him guessing that it was native Calavari. After a century of dealing with them it only made sense that she would have picked up at least a few words…and knowing the trailblazers he should have expected her to have learned it in her spare time.

  Davis felt a flare of anger from the Calavari, churning up his already chaotic mind.

  “What do you know of honor, weakling?” he said in kind, leaving Davis out of the conversation.

  “I know you are wasting your life here. There is an enemy to fight, yet you wallow here like a female…you coward.”

  The next thing Davis knew Morgan shoved him to the side and he hit the ground, cushioned by his armor, then felt/heard a hard thud. He rolled over, getting his head upright, where he saw the trailblazer standing atop the Calavari’s chest and looking down into his wide face.

  “Now get up and fulfill your duty,” Morgan said icily, hopping off the behemoth and picking Davis up by the arm before walking back onto their former path as if nothing had happened.

  Don’t look back, she warned.

  “What just happened?”

  I poked the tiger. That one will be alright now, and maybe a few others that saw.

  “Why did he get in our way?”

  I did that. I felt him stewing and amped up his frustration, then planted the suggestion to confront us. Worst thing for some of these guys is to treat them with kid gloves. Sometimes all they need is a spur to get their heads clear. When you’ve lost so many times, some people stop fighting altogether, even when they can win. Bring the battle to them and old reflexes kick in.

  “So you picked that fight?”

  Yes.

  “For my benefit?”

  No, for his. I’ve never met him before, nor expect to in the future, so I had to seize the opportunity when it presented itself.

  “You do that a lot?”

  Picking fights is part of communication with a warrior-inclined race.

  “Do the females respond the same?”

  Different pressure points, but the same internal mechanism is there. We have it too, we’re just smarter about it. They may be alien minds, but they still have pride. Just a different flavor you’ll have to learn.

  “I have a lot to learn, it seems,” Davis said as they continued to walk through the refugee section. “What other lessons do you have for me today, Master?”

  Your sarcasm is improving, at least. Up ahead is what I wanted you to see.

  Davis waited patiently as they walked the last bit in silence, with Morgan letting him soak in the scenery and sample the local minds…which he made a point of doing as often as he could without giving himself a headache from the effort.

  Eventually they came to a stairwell and climbed up many levels until they arrived at an interior promenade overlooking a type of park, inside of which there were hundreds of females sitting together. Morgan quietly leaned against the wall, trying not to make any sounds, as she looked down on them through the scattering of potted trees.

  This is one of the old broods, she said as Davis walked up next to her and looked down over the railing as a Calavari male came up behind them for a quick look, then backed out and gave them some space. Can you reach their minds?

  Davis tried, but they were too far away. “No.”

  Take off your left glove.

  Davis reached down and disconnected it, with Morgan taking his hand in hers and creating an Ikrid link, allowing him to see their minds through her remarkably advanced Ikrid ability. This wasn’t the first time she’d done this to show him something, but every time she did he was no less impressed by her power.

  “They feel so…damaged.”

  They are damaged. People are meant to be active. This is what stagnation feels like on the inside, and it’s killing them.

  “This is normal for a brood?”

  More or less. There’s an extra depression here, due to their situation, but this sessile nature is typical of broods I’ve encountered before on their worlds.

  “They feel…linked to one another.”

  In illusion only. They have no telepathic connection. What you are feeling is a very strong fiction created off the natural biological urges. This is what we call ‘bad bonding’ run amuck, and it manifests most frequently with people who have surrendered or never developed their individuality. They’ve linked themselves to a fictitious hive mind, and because it’s fictitious there is no guiding force. They just sit here and rot…and occasionally mate.

  “And they did this originally?”

  They had brood pride then that drove them to some small activity, and their pride in their empire gave them cause for joy, but the stagnation remained. It just took longer for it to kill them. This is an original brood on a bad day, but still true to form. And it is this that we have tried to kill with the maturia. We don’t want their younglings transitioning to this without at least seeing that there’s another alternative. Their parents don’t want the separation, but it’s in the younglings’ best interests.

  “What about the refugee younglings that come in with their parents?”

  It’s hardest on them, with a painful transition, but once they make the adjustment they’re better off. It sounds harsh and if you go about it in the wrong way the parental protection drives flare up and you have an incident, but the Star Force Calavari are seeing the wisdom in it. These, sadly, are probably just going to sit here and mope with each other until they die out.

  “You can’t poke the tiger here?”

  Pick one.

  “At random?”

  Doesn’t matter. Just choose one.

  Davis ‘looked’ around with Morgan’s sense, then slowly pointed to one with his mind.

  The trailblazer responded by blacking out everyone else and highlighting that one mind. He felt her hack into the Calavari female and take control of her body. He didn’t understand what Morgan was doing but paid close attention, feeling her walk the Calavari over to a water fountain where she got a drink, gradually releasing control to the point where the female didn’t realize anything was amiss and finished her drink.

  When done she turned and walked back to her spot, with Davis feeling the ugly transition. It was almost as if activity was evil in her mind, with her wanting to return to her sessile pose. When she sat back down it felt like an iron gate closed, with her mental signature diminishing greatly, almost as if she were going into a hibernation mode.

  “What is that?”

  A mix of fear and despair. Fear of individuality. Despair of purposelessness. If there’s an internal spark to access, you have a chance of waking them up. If there isn’t, you can try the reset button, but it’s a painful option, and if you don’t know the person or have cause to try, it’s near to a futile effort.

  “What’s the reset button?”

  Forced activity. You saw how she changed just by standing up and walking. The body has a strong influence on the mind, and b
y encouraging or forcing certain activities you can trigger certain reactions…which is why physical training for the younglings is so important.

  “So you just leave them here to rot?”

  We’ve given them shelter from the lizards, foodstuffs and a place to live…along with training if they want it. All they have to do is try. If they’re not willing to do that, well, some responsibility has to be on them.

  “But each one is still a loss?”

  I’ve had a great deal of experience with loss. What it comes down to is what battles we choose to fight. We might be able to wake up a few of these Calavari with intensive time and a lot of jarring, invasive prodding…but our efforts are best used providing the opportunity to those who don’t have it, rather than trying to prod these who simply refuse to try. Many would trade places with them in a heartbeat.

  “When you put it that way, it kind of makes me mad.”

  It should. But others, like the male we encountered before, are still trying on the inside, buried deep down. On the surface the two can look the same, so it’s important not to write anyone off. And even if they are like these, there’s a part of me that is angry with them as well as a part that doesn’t want to give up on them.

  “So what do you do?”

  What we can…and recognize the fact that in this messed up universe we’re not going to win every battle, no matter how hard we try. If you can’t come to terms with that you either quit trying or drive yourself insane from the horrors out there.

  “Some of these people are so messed up they fight those trying to help them?”

  You’re learning.

  “As well as getting a bit queasy.”

  You learn to deal with that too.

  7

  January 12, 2506

  Dcan System (Gamma Region)

  Waxcvat

  “They’re heading to ground,” Kip warned from the command nexus onboard the Taro Adun. “Do not try to intercept with fighters. Their anti-air will rip them to shreds.”

  “Copy that, Archon,” Consul Dayna-A003-73 confirmed from his command center onboard the A-231 seda that was the largest among the 13 in orbit. “Squadrons will establish perimeter escorts and intercept anything coming off their transports.”