by M. Alan Marr
Chaz raises a question. “The fuselage is the most advanced component?”
“Indeed so, Commander.” Idris explains, “Fuselage components not only have to protect and shield the interior of the ship, but must also be capable of channeling detection waves, transmitting stealth cover, and surviving in circumstances of extreme velocity, temperature, and pressure. External fuselage plating is manufactured on Cygnus, a heavy gravity world where our strongest and most advanced materials are created.”
“Wow.”
“Nearly every component on the fighter can be built anywhere in the Crown, but the fuselage plating can only be made on Cygnus.” Idris surveys the room. “I fear we may be getting ahead of ourselves.”
Steve raises his hand.
“Midshipman Fitzgerald, a question?”
“Ma’am, going back to the atmospheric conditioning system, you said something about external collection vents. Do the life support systems rely on external collection of gasses?”
“Partially,” she answers. “All ships are serviced with full atmospheric support tanks, but in flight, your ships take advantage of external collection to supplement your existing supply. Useful if you’re low on stored support gasses and can reach a nebula, atmosphere, or anywhere containing oxygenic compounds.”
The life support hologram lifts from the ship and highlights the particle separation system.
“The ship’s particle separators isolate the useful gasses, and vent the rest.”
Idris inputs a few keystrokes, and the fighter components vanish. A new image appears: a basic flight trainer. The computer highlights the components as Idris speaks. “Your initial training will concentrate on the vertical maneuvering system,” Idris continues. “The VMS incorporates ventral thrusters cross-linked to the gravity drive for proportional acceleration.”
“Ma’am?” a confused Harrison says, raising his hand. “Proportional acceleration?”
“Yes, Midshipman. Smaller ships like this trainer use a combination of gravitation and thruster output to operate the ship. Larger vessels, and even your fighters, can independently operate the zero-g system from the surface to orbit with very little in terms of disturbance below the vessel. Your trainers, however, utilize a proportional response from both the ventral thrusters and zero-g system, due to the limits of the smaller gravitation system. This will become apparent when you begin your basic flight lesson tomorrow.”
“We’re flying tomorrow?” Matt asks.
“Ma’am,” Idris corrects. “You would do well to learn military courtesy, Midshipman Thompson.”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Accepted. And yes, you will all be flying tomorrow, and every day thereafter until you are ready.”
“Ready for what?” Jen says, adding, “Ma’am.”
Idris looks at Jen as though the answer should be obvious. “To save your world.”
Jen looks at Matt. Steve looks at Harrison.
Idris continues. “Your academic manuals are loaded into the pads on your stations. It may be helpful to load the individual manuals on separate units for cross-referencing.”
The Oasis Candidates pick up the blank pads with quizzical looks on their faces, since they don’t know how to fully operate the new technology as yet. Most of their ‘study’ time while on the Recon ship from Earth is a blur of information overload. In fact, most of what they studied was a primer on how to read the Tertian version of English and understand its method of compound letters and nuances of reading inflection notes, little punctuations above or below various words or phrases, lending some visual context to what is being read.
Idris stands and steps around to the front of her station and surveys the faces in the room. She can tell they are overwhelmed, fatigued, and nervous. She speaks to the group with compassion. “I realize you are in very unfamiliar territory, but I must impress . . . your performance will be scored no differently than any other Flight Candidate. Commander Caelestis believes your skills as aviators will flourish in your new positions. Admittedly, I have no experience with Earth residents, save for a brief meeting with Commander Ronaldi. I must say I was impressed with him then, as I am now with all of you. It is no small undertaking. While I do not envy your task at hand, I do so admire your courage.
“Regarding your textbooks, the academic tracking systems will analyze your reading and study patterns. Embedded examinations will gauge your retention. Deficient areas will be retested. In cases where material retention becomes problematic, the system will attempt to provide an alternative presentation to help with any blocks in comprehension. Additionally, the system will refer you to appropriate reference materials that can assist.”
The rest of the day is spent in detailed dissertation on the basic flight trainer. For such a barebones ship, with simplified systems, it is extraordinarily detailed.
“I can see everyone is fatigued from your long voyage. You will have the rest of today to get settled in your lodgings in Bari, and prepare for the formal start of flight training tomorrow.”
No one denies they are tired. There is so much to cover, and this is a totally foreign environment. Terminology. Equipment. Technology. Gravity.
Dev returns to the Training Command and enters the room. Idris stands and is surprised when her students don’t. She barks at them. “Flight Commander on deck, stand at attention!”
“Commander Idris.”
“Apologies, Commander Dev.”
“I’m afraid our new Midshipmen are a bit lax when it comes to military discipline. Until today, they were civilians with a somewhat cavalier job description.”
“Yes, sir.”
“They will learn soon enough. But right now, I need to take them to meet the Flight Admiral.”
“Yes, sir. I believe they have ample material to study this evening.”
“No doubt.”
“Franz, Milo, and Annette are waiting downstairs. Idris, if you please?”
“Candidates dismissed.”
There is a sort of slow-motion chaos as the group gathers their materials and awkwardly depart the room, with a who goes first sort of misadventure with candidates nearly running into each other, causing Idris to close her eyes and slightly shake her head. She looks at Dev, who is wearing a wide grin. This is about as far from Citadel-level order as can be.
Bross waits in the hall to direct everyone to the nearest wardroom where they can change out of their flight suits and into standard uniform. The Mids wear a two piece, Citadel uniforms with small fore and aft caps, almost like a baseball cap, Dev and Chaz wear their semi-formal uniforms and bicorn hats.
Since Matt was initially detained by the medical staff, Dev stops the group at the Admiralty courtyard to revisit the great globe and its four pillars. Moving onward to the entrance of the main Admiralty building, sentries come to attention and salute Dev and Chaz as they approach with the Midshipmen.
Upon entry, Dev leads the group through the great hall. Along the way, Dev points out the grandiose oil paintings of the various Admirals and Field Marshals influential in the Crown’s long history. He leads everyone inside the Fleet Combat Center, where they are admitted under the authority of Commander Dev.
As they walk through the massive FCC, the group is impressed with the complexity of the operation and what they see on the various large holographic screens displaying the Constellations, fleet warships, weapons, and areas of concern. Most of all, they are impressed with all the people. Here are hundreds of people hard at work. Hundreds of Humans on an entirely different world, working on behalf of many other Human worlds.
Dev leads the group into the same conference room where he and Chaz presented their plan to the Flight Admiral months before. Bross takes up a position near the door to be on the lookout for the Admiral.
Once in the privacy of the meeting room, the group relaxes a little.
“This place is unreal,” Steve says to Harrison. “Do you see those screens?”
“That is the Fleet Combat Ce
nter,” Dev says. “our command and control center for all military operations throughout the Crown.”
“When you say Crown, what exactly do you mean?” Harrison asks.
Dev explains, “The Crown is synonymous with Trieste, her Constellation, and, in the broader sense, all outposts and territories under our governance. Earth is not part of the Crown.”
“But you protect Earth just the same?” Jen asks.
“We do. We tend to think of Earth as a—”
“Redheaded stepchild?” Jen interjects.
“Distant relative,” Dev says, more appropriately. “No one would be on Earth at all if it wasn’t for us, so we’re duty bound to protect her.”
“It’s hard to believe no one on Earth has any idea you’re up here,” Harrison comments.
“Until recently, the protection of Earth involved a very comfortable margin.”
Bross notices the Flight Admiral walking toward the room. He clears his throat to attract Dev’s attention, “Sir, he’s coming.”
Dev speaks quickly. “The Flight Admiral is the highest-ranking officer in the Crown. Speak to him only when spoken to.”
“Okay, look smart,” Chaz says to the group who, not being military, really have no idea what to do. They all stand a little straighter, but nervously, the way awkward civilians would. Chaz rolls his eyes as he approaches Dev and joins his side.
The doors open. Bross announces, “Flight Admiral of the Crown!”
Chaz and Dev snap to attention. The Admiral walks past the line of uncomfortable Earth residents and glances at them in passing. He approaches Dev and Chaz, who render salutes. The Admiral returns the courtesy and speaks amiably.
“Commander Dev, are these new Midshipmen and crewmen I see?”
“Indeed so, Admiral.”
“Good to see you, sir.”
“And you, Admiral.”
“Commander Chaz, welcome back to the fight, sir.”
“Thank you, Admiral.”
The Admiral’s aide-de-camp rushes in. “Admiral? You’re needed urgently, sir.”
“Tyco?”
“Engaged at Hercules, yes, sir.”
The Admiral turns to Dev. “Enemy forces arrived in Hercules. I’m afraid this meeting will have to be postponed.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Carry on.” The Admiral rushes out with his aide in tow.
“Now what?” Jen asks.
Dev watches the door for several seconds, longing to be out there, and sighs. “This will take a while.”
“Is there anything you need to do?” Chaz asks.
Dev puts on a professional facade. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve got a squadron to build.”
“What should we do, sir?” Steve asks.
Dev resigns himself to be out of the fight, at least for now. “We go home.”
“Back to Earth?”
Dev chuckles. “Your temporary homes. Come on.”
The entire Oasis group returns to Bari Province. Everyone carries several electronic books to access their studies. Studies that will continue well into the night. For the flight attendants, their day was spent in assessment and briefings of the various training available to enlisted personnel. For the pilots, their course is already charted. On the train, Dev briefs the group about Tertian finances. The Soverign is the primary unit of currency. Since none of the Oasis group has established accounts, Dev set up a division of his own account to be accessible by his team. There are no credit cards on Trieste. Credit, he explains, is based on position, but generally people in the Crown do not overextend themselves. Transactions are done by fingerprint. Restaurants and bars will keep their tabs open until they are ready to leave. No shopkeeper or server will take advantage or over charge, and tipping, admittedly, is an Earth thing. Register pads are typically produced upon first ordering, and tabs will close when they depart. Any problems, therefore, are discovered from the start. While Dev may not be a billionaire on Trieste, as he is on Earth, he does have a very comfortable salary as a senior Officer of the Crown.
The trainer specs will be studied and tested, and tomorrow—and every day thereafter—their progress will be evaluated, charted, and compared with all the other flight candidates.
One thing is abundantly clear: They have been thrown into the deep end. It is exhausting, and they haven’t even really done anything yet.
The flight attendants have a different course of study. While the pilots will be concentrating on learning to fly all over again, the flight attendant crew will be learning about Tertian support systems, communications, tracking, and have the opportunity to receive individual training in various areas to benefit the squadron.
The group of weary Midshipmen and crewmen drag themselves up the stairs at Bari station and into their building. They enter Dev’s dwelling and all but crash onto the couches and chairs. Chaz and Dev are the only exception.
“I literally can’t move,” Jen says, slumped back in a chair.
Matt is almost immobile as well. “Me too.”
“It’s the gravity,” Chaz says.
“Well, dial it down a notch, would you?” Jen asks.
“Wish we could,” Dev says. “By tomorrow you probably won’t even notice it.”
“Well,” Matt says, even more tired than the rest because he’s so skinny, “just think of the spring we’ll have in our step when we get back.”
“What do you mean?” Jen says.
“Am I right?” Matt asks Dev.
“You are,” Dev confirms. “After a few weeks here, you’ll be stronger on Earth than you were before you left.”
“That’s cool, but how’s that work?” Harrison asks. He already has a muscular gym body to begin with, and he is happy he’ll be even stronger when he gets back.
“We’re not exactly sure. But it does.” Dev adds, “Your structures acclimate and strengthen rapidly at the cellular level. Once they do, they’re kind of reprogrammed and continue to operate as though you’re in a heavy environment. Really, the only way to revert is to operate in a zero-g for a prolonged period, which no one ever does. Zero-g degrades cellular structures over time, that’s why your space station astronauts are so weak after spending several months in orbit.”
Franz looks at the galley and sighs in exhaustion. “Commander, do you have take-out here?”
“As a matter of fact, we do.” Dev smiles. He pulls a computer tablet off the counter, which the group immediately nicknames a Ti-Pad, and begins programming. “How about Chinese?”
“You have Chinese food?” Annette asks.
“We do,” Dev replies. “Most cultures on Earth have counterparts here in the Crown.”
“That is so cool.”
“Our Chinese food is a little different, but it’s incredibly delicious,” Dev says, punching a few commands into the Ti-Pad.
“That’s it?” Steve says.
“What do you mean?”
“You only entered, like, three commands.”
“I requested meal service for ten.”
“What did you order?”
Dev smiles. “I didn’t look at the menu. Most restaurants here in Bari tend to serve whatever the chefs are making.”
“No kidding?” Steve says. “You can’t order specific stuff?”
“Of course, but in this case, with such a large order, it’s best to leave it to the chefs.”
While waiting for the delivery, Dev and Chaz serve beverages to the weary crew.
“I know it’s a lot to cover,” Dev says. “And you’ll have to forgive your instructors if they go too fast. They’re not used to students entering the program as you guys are. Remember, this is a first for them as well.”
“Where’s Bross?” Chaz asks.
“Meeting with the Quartermaster’s crew. They’re sorting out everyone’s uniforms and equipment,” Dev replies, then addresses everyone. “Speaking of which, if they issue weapons, do not take them out of the boxes. That is an order. Our weapons are very powerful and very leth
al. I don’t want you blasting the side out of the building or killing each other.”
Chaz interjects, “The Quartermaster said the Armorer will issue sidearms during weapons training.”
“Good.” Dev nods. “That’s usually how it’s done. But as I said, we’re breaking new ground here, so some of the stuff may be out of sync with the normal course of business.”
Jen reads over some information on her Ti-Pad. “What is an energy stream distribution port?”
“An outlet plug,” Dev says. “Tertian homes and equipment use wireless energy transmission. The distribution ports are located around the house for efficient transmission of power to lamps, computers, your Ti-Phones, anything that requires energy to operate.”
Chaz looks confused. “I thought you said our Ti-phone batteries would last ten years.”
“They will. But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep them fully charged.”
“Wow, so how is power supplied to the building?” Steve asks.
“Buildings have central power conduits from underground facilities.”
“What’s the fuel source?” Matt asks.
“Small provinces like Bari use fusion-based systems. Larger cities use a type of solid fuel produced off-world.”
“Why the difference?” Harrison asks.
“Large fusion systems can be very dangerous in a breach. Fuel-based systems are better for larger distribution in major cities.”
“Wait,” Matt says, “so what happens if your fusion thingy goes haywire?”