by Dalo Lorn
The various types of smaller Petran crystals could be used as superconductors, heat-resistant focusing lenses, high-quality melee weapons, powerful projectiles and similar things. Consequently, they were quite valuable to the Terrans, who found them to be a much simpler - and frequently much smaller for the same effect - replacement for the various complex processes and bulky equipment that much of their more advanced technology - from creating the alloys required to make high-quality projectiles and melee weapons (not that the latter were used a lot by either the Terrans or the Petrans except in bayonets and wristblades for their weapons and combat suits to defend against some of the lesser Xargan creatures) to providing the required components for the more potent of their energy weapons, or their shield generators or hyperdrives - required to achieve the same effect as with Petran crystals.
However, it was the Petrans’ use of their crystallurgical advances in architecture and shipbuilding that was the most impressive - and impossible to reproduce. Unlike Terrans or Tarhedians, who assembled everything from ships to buildings from large quantities of subcomponents, Petrans grew their primarily blue ships and buildings as single objects, manipulating them on the fly through methods known only to themselves to achieve effects ranging from opening or closing a gap in an apparently seamless wall to growing furniture to limited regeneration to channeling vast quantities of external energy into their engines, energy weapons, or shields. The last of these abilities also allowed their ships to be all but impervious to most energy weapons, as the ships’ armor evenly distributed the incoming energy throughout the entire hull except the carefully insulated areas containing the crew, storing it until it dissipated into the environment or was used by the ship’s systems. Indeed, not many energy weapons could visibly damage a specific area on a Petran ship before its key systems overloaded - disabling or destroying the ship altogether - or the entire ship simultaneously melted away, and those that could usually caused one of the above anyway.
Though most of the above information is of very little relevance to the story at this point, it was on one such smooth crystal on one of Petra’s islands that Lanis Baltor was about to wake up in a crystalline bed in a Petran infirmary. As everything around him slowly faded into existence, he vaguely thought he heard someone talking.
“Sir, that could--”
“He’s awake,” one of the nurses said; whoever it was that spoke before that had now stopped.
“Ah, Mister... Beltor,” one of the Petrans nearby said to him in a formal tone, apparently having problems pronouncing his name, “It is good to see that you are recovering. Some of us,” he glanced at one of his companions, “believed that you would not even last long enough for our rescue team to transfer you to this facility. I am Major Hokka Lurvat of the Imperial Petran Army. Could you please explain what that ship you were rescued from was, and what caused this... event?”
Lanis told Major Lurvat what happened on the Tarhedia. “What happened after I lost consciousness?” he asked upon concluding the story.
“The Tarhedians briefly regained control of the ship, lifting it to a depth at which our rescue crews could reach it. However, for reasons unknown to us - presumably more sabotage - the vessel soon began a rapid descent and slammed into the ocean floor. We managed to take a few of them aboard the rescue ship, but...” Lurvat paused for a moment, “You are the only survivor.”
It took a few moments for the news to sink in. “Can I see them?” Lanis finally inquired.
“I am afraid that is not possible. We have already organized a memorial service - it ended a few hours ago.”
“I see.”
“I do have one more question, though,” Lurvat said. “You said that there was a Xargan spy aboard the Tarhedia.”
“Yes, I did… when I shot him, he transformed into some kind of blob,” Lanis answered, then slowly got up. “When can I return to Earth?”
“A ship should arrive within a few days. I have arranged for you to receive a new ship upon reaching Earth; after all, your freighter cannot be recovered, and you have provided us with a great deal of insight as to what happened. Meanwhile, we’ve arranged living quarters for you to stay at. You’ll be staying in one of our military bases.” Having said that, the major left.
Shortly afterwards, Lanis was on his way to the base - which was located several kilometers from the island - and it was not long before he was settled in in a comfortable, if somewhat blank room, thinking about what happened. The fact that he was the only survivor despite all their efforts disturbed him; after all he had seen, and experiencing what he had experienced, the death of everyone on the Tarhedia was a grim outcome at best.
Suddenly, the light seemed to grow dim as a silhouette of some kind appeared in front of him. It was faint and dark, but it vaguely resembled the Tarhedian commander, Zeshaira.
“Can you hear me?” the silhouette asked, its faint voice penetrating directly into his mind, as if it were one of his own thoughts. “Don’t say anything, you’re probably being watched. I’m invisible and inaudible to everybody except you, but if you were to react to my presence, the Petrans might become suspicious.”
After a brief pause during which Lanis tried to wrap his mind around what he heard, the silhouette continued: “I’m taking an awful risk by asking for your help, but I can’t take care of this on my own.”
“What’s going on? How are you doing this?” he thought, focusing on that thought in the hope that Zeshaira would recognize the intent behind it. As surprised as he was, he had not forgotten about Tarhedian telepathy this time. Invisibility, on the other hand, was new.
“What the Tarhedians lack in physical strength, we make up for with our minds,” the Tarhedian reminded him. “Under normal circumstances, simultaneously concealing myself and telepathically communicating like this would not be difficult for me at all - but in my condition, even that is... exhausting,” she explained; suddenly, Lanis noticed that Zeshaira had been shot with an energy weapon of some sort. “Yes,” she answered the question she expected him to ask, “I was fired upon. Another one of those Xargan shapeshifters you told the Petrans about, though I do not know where it came from - it ambushed me while I was heading towards the control room to help Hatos. I was unprepared; if it were not for one of the Petrans arriving and shooting the creature down, I would have met the same fate as the navigator. Fortunately, I managed to conceal myself before the Petran could see me, and he believed the shots were intended for the controls behind me.”
“Alright, now that you’ve explained that, I’ll get back to my first question: What’s going on?”
“Lurvat lied to you. The Petrans seized the Tarhedia and captured the crew. They’ve placed the ship in an underwater hangar connected to this base. What they have done to the crew, I do not know; but I can no longer sense any of them. I need your help to rescue them - if there is anyone left to be rescued - and take the ship back.”
“Yeah... I see a problem with that idea. Several of them, actually,” Lanis mentally pointed out, “First of all, I’m not a commando. You might have the training and equipment you’d need to do something like that if you weren’t hurt, but I can’t hide myself like you can, and more importantly, I don’t even have so much as a knife to fight with. Sure, I’ll do what I can to help, but we probably won’t get very far.”
“As far as weapons are concerned...” As Zeshaira said that, a Petran guard was passing by the door. Before he knew what was going on, the lights went out, the door burst open and a smooth, large elliptic jewel on the metallic bracer that was the material part of the Tarhedians’ wristblades slammed into his face, rendering him unconscious. “I hope you know how to use Petran weapons,” she finished vocally, pulling him into the room and decloaking herself.
“So much for stealth,” Lanis said, proceeding to remove the guard’s sidearm from his belt, “What happened to the lights?”
“I cut the power to most of the base. If the Petrans are smart enough, they should sound the alarm wi
thin moments - but it’ll probably take them a few minutes to undo the modifications,” Zeshaira noted, heading in the direction of the elevator to the Tarhedia. As she anticipated, it did not take long for them to hear the alarmed voices of Petran patrols, though they were able to avoid them due to her ability to sense their presence.
However, when they reached the elevator itself, they noticed four Petrans standing in front of the elevator, partially concealed by a crystalline barrier. “Looks like they managed to fortify this place even without power - I’m actually surprised they aren’t hiding behind that barrier,” Lanis quietly said, “Still, I can’t take them all down before they take cover. Can you still cloak?”
“I can, but I will not be able to maintain my concealment and move at the same time. It would appear we have gone as far as we can,” she answered mournfully.
Lanis looked around one more time, then said: “Actually, I think I have an idea...”
A few moments later, two of the Petran soldiers were hit in rapid succession by a volley of stun bolts from Lanis’ stolen pistol, prompting their more fortunate counterparts to take cover and open fire. After a brief and ultimately pointless exchange of weapons fire, Lanis ran back down the corridor, and the guards decided to follow him; right across a cloaked Zeshaira’s carefully placed leg. As the guards collapsed, they received another series of stun bolts, and that was the end of that conflict.
“Huh. That actually worked,” Lanis said as they rushed into the elevator.
Pressing the button to send the elevator down towards the Tarhedia, Zeshaira turned to him and asked: “You didn’t think it would work?”
“Not really - but it had to be better than just trying to shoot them down.”
“Yes, I suppose so. It’s odd... I still cannot determine where the others are.”
“Can we fly the ship out of here alone?”
“No,” Zeshaira replied, “but we should be able to use its sensors to locate the rest of the crew and then transport them aboard. After that, I expect it will not be too difficult to escape.”
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this...?”
As the elevator reached the massive underwater hangar containing the Tarhedia, Lanis and Zeshaira proceeded to board the ship and rushed to the transporter and control rooms, respectively, without encountering any further resistance. Unfortunately, it was then that they encountered a complication.
“I think somebody’s been trying to dissect this thing,” Lanis said over the intercom, examining the control panel that had once been linked to the ship’s transporters. “I’ll try to fix it, but seeing as I’m basically guessing what goes where, this could take some time.”
“The controls on this side have also been tampered with. We don’t have a lot of time, but if I can repair the door controls, I may be able to hold the Petrans at bay. This should not take--” Something on the other side fizzled and blew up, and all the doors on the ship started closing.
“I thought you said ‘repair the door controls’?” Lanis commented, only to realize that the intercom was the thing that had blown up. “Never mind...” he said to himself, continuing with his repairs. The doors, however, had been far less effective than Zeshaira had hoped, and he could soon hear Petrans setting up to breach the door between them and the transporter room. “Go away, you’re not welcome here!” he yelled through the door, rapidly attempting to activate the now-repaired device, and soon heard it activate, sending the boarding party back through an artificial wormhole into the upper levels of the base.
“Goodbye,” he finally said, then tried to scan for Tarhedian lifesigns. To his surprise, they were all over the planet; the first ones to appear on the platform seemed to be more alarmed by the sudden change of location than whatever they had been so abruptly removed from, and when Hatos joined them, it took only a few seconds for the astonished Tarhedian leader to ask: “What in the galaxy could have compelled you to do something like this!?”
“I thought you were prisoners!” Lanis answered.
“Prisoners?! They offered to help repair the Tarhedia and were interested in learning more about us! I was negotiating a treaty with the Petran High Council; one that you may have condemned with your actions!” Hatos furiously explained, then slowly calmed down, trying to figure out how such a thing could even have happened. “How did you even get this far without encountering one of the crew?” he finally asked, then attempted unsuccessfully to open the door, “And why is the ship locked down?”
“I don’t think there’s anybody aboard other than us and Zeshaira - and I think the lockdown’s her fault. Looks like she also broke the intercom; I lost contact with her just as the doors closed.”
“Zeshaira’s in the control room? And she’s alone? Interesting...” Hatos said, then ordered one of the ‘rescued’ crewmembers to transport him, Lanis, and two of the more combat-ready crewmembers to the control room.
What they saw when they got there surprised Lanis considerably, though Hatos seemed to have been expecting something of the sort; a relatively uninjured Zeshaira telekinetically fighting what appeared to be an exact duplicate of herself, with no victor in sight. “Stop this, both of you!” Hatos commanded; and the battle was over.
Both Zeshairas turned to him, simultaneously pointing at the other and saying: “She’s a Xargan spy!”
“What now?” Lanis asked.
“Now,” Hatos simply stated, “we test the quality of the disguise. Turn on your wristblades and point them towards me.”
Both of them turned on the energy blades on their wrists and pointed them at Hatos, who activated his own blade and quickly sliced across the first Zeshaira’s blade. Instead of blocking the blow, the blade was cut apart, and the Xargan shrieked in pain; before it could do anything, Lanis shot it repeatedly, and it collapsed to the floor, transforming into the same goo-like blob he had seen before.
The second Zeshaira switched her blade off, but Hatos said: “I wish to test you as well. Turn on your blade.”
“Why? We’ve already determined that I’m not the shapeshifter,” she asked.
“We have determined no such thing. All we know is that we have killed a shapeshifter; but that does not rule out the possibility that you are one as well. Turn on your blade.”
Lanis’ pistol flew out of his hand towards the second Zeshaira, but before it reached its destination, she found that she was on the receiving end of a volley of yellow bursts of energy from Hatos’ wrist - and collapsed to the floor into a pile of goo.
“That was new,” Lanis said.
For a moment, Hatos laughed. “You did not really believe we would be foolish enough to fight only with melee weapons, did you? Even with personal shielding, such an attack would achieve very little. No, as you just observed, these bracers can almost instantly switch between firing as a ranged weapon and emitting a blade capable of blocking other energy weapons; a defensive ability which our dead infiltrators clearly did not anticipate, or I suspect they would have taken some from our armory.”
“What’d you have done then?”
“I’m not entirely certain. I suppose we could extract a blood sample and leave it lying around somewhere; it is possible that any tissue removed from such a creature would revert to its natural state. However, we have a more important issue to deal with, and I fear we may have preciously few options left. First of all, we must make sure there are no more of these shapeshifters among us, something the Petrans may be unwilling to wait for, based on my experiences so far.” After saying this, Hatos ordered one of the guards to end the lockdown. “I have instructed the transporter operator to transport the rest of the crew aboard. This will undoubtedly alarm the Petrans further, but if they have interpreted the situation as I suspect they have, the alternative would be far worse,” he said a few seconds later.
It was only a couple of minutes before the crew had been notified of their imminent return and transported to their stations. Once that was finished, Hatos gave the order to depart.
A small group of Tarhedians transported into the hangar control room, and within moments the massive arms formed specifically - like the hangar itself - to hold the Tarhedia in place detached from its vast hull while the hangar doors began opening; the team was transported back aboard as the ship’s shields and engines slowly powered up, the city dome coming to life as five yellow beams came out of the curving shield arms, connecting at the dome’s highest point to each other and a similar, larger beam from the power core - which proceeded to the highest point of the main shield - and both shields simultaneously started expanded from those points to encompass their respective areas. Once this process was completed, the beams faded away, leaving nothing but the yellowish, transparent watery surface of the shield; and the ship’s natural rotation began as its engines propelled it out of the hangar. Minutes later, the ship had left Petra’s atmosphere.
As Hatos had feared, the Petrans were not at all satisfied by this turn of events, so by the time the Tarhedia had entered a stable orbit, a small fleet was waiting for it, fully prepared for combat.
“We are being hailed,” the communications officer said.
“Put it through,” Hatos ordered, “Hopefully, we can keep this from escalating...”
The holographic screen overlaid over the wall in front of Hatos changed to display an image of the Petran fleet’s commander; from his facial expression, it was clear to everyone that this would be nothing more than a request for surrender.
“Tarhedian vessel, this is Captain Kellas Poteran of the Petran battlecruiser Hippasrus. Stand down immediately or you will be fired upon,” the Petran commander said.
“And return, no doubt, into your hands to be punished for the mistakes of some among us? I should think we are free to come and go as we please, so long as we do not come unannounced or with hostile intentions,” Hatos answered in a criticizing - albeit diplomatic - tone. “Besides, we seem to have lost an important member of our crew, and I sincerely doubt we can--” a somewhat battered Zeshaira came into the control room, ruining his attempt to provide a reasonable explanation for their departure, “Never mind. However, as you may already know, we have a Terran guest aboard, and I had promised him we would take him to Earth ourselves.”