Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles)

by James Jackson

  An excited engineer, fascinated by the discovery, finds Regent Voknor, and shows him.

  Voknor stares at the damage, and although in essence it is minor, it is fascinating. He turns to the engineer and questions, “Are we able to boost the forward shields?”

  The engineer stares at the pitting and replies, “The shields require vast amounts of energy to operate; they are usually operated at minimal levels.”

  “What about operating the forward shields independently?” Voknor queries, pressing his question, though he is already fairly certain of the answer.

  The engineer shakes his head, then says, “We either run the entire shield grid, or we don’t”

  “Understood,” Voknor replies as he walks away, his suspicions confirmed. Something about the hull pitting niggles at his mind, but he cannot for the life of him fathom what that is. He stops, turns, and then requests, “Investigate a solution, when you can.”

  “Yes Regent,” replies the engineer, stunned by the instructions. He then gazes at the minor damage and wonders what can be done about it.

  By the end of the day, the entire fleet is resting on the ground, and powered down to minimal levels. Mining craft begin gathering ore; but their limited number means that the flow of resources is inconsistent. They have to sift through vast amounts of raw material in order to obtain the rarer heavier elements. They operate night and day, diligently transporting load after load to the fleet’s only construction ship. Though designated as such, in reality its capabilities are limited to the manufacturing of systems for existing vessels.

  Midway through the fifth day, an engineer from the flagship rushes up to Voknor, and between breaths says, “Regent, I have something to show you!”

  Voknor stares back in surprise, then says, “What is it?”

  “Before the bridge was destroyed, the crew scanned the Atlan construction docks, and the carriers,” he becomes extremely excited as he says, “and I found the scans!”

  “Show me!” Voknor states, his own excitement building.

  Regent Voknor follows the engineer, then watches with increasing fascination as the engineer replays the scans, including a video feed. The Atlan space-docks utilize robotic arms to manufacture superstructure, and external hull, while the more complex, internal systems are installed independently.

  Regent Voknor stares at the schematics, then exclaims, “We could build a ground-based version!”

  The engineer nods as he replies, “My thoughts exactly, Regent.”

  Voknor stares at the engineer, then says, “Excellent work!”

  Seasons Come and Go

  Voknor sits with the Primes of the other craft in front of a bulky curtain. Engineers move back and forth, in and out of sight. They have all been called to witness a special presentation; the culmination of what began as a simple request to one engineer when they landed, quickly turned into a mammoth project, involving hundreds, and taking years to complete.

  A single engineer strides before them, nods to Regent Voknor, then begins the presentation, “I was quested to investigate a method to protect our craft from the rigors of space travel, in particular, the long-term effects of space particles. During our investigation, we found that given enough time, what appears as minor pits, cracks, and holes, eventually leads to a breakdown of the integrity of the hull. We also found microscopic damage inside a few of the vessels in the fleet, especially those with minimal armor.”

  The Primes glance back and forth; they have all seen the engineers examining and repairing every craft in the fleet, and wonder whose craft the engineer is referring to.

  The speaker waits for a moment, then continues, “We have found a solution, but one that will require radical modifications to all ships of the fleet.” He motions to the side, and as the curtain falls, proudly states, “I present to you, the fleet’s new shield enhanced armor plating!”

  A huge cross-section of hull, armor, and who knows what, rests on the ground beside three Gamin, all of whom are shorter than the massive slab of material. Cables snake to a portable power unit.

  A low hum emanates from the unit as power is applied to the hull section. A faint shimmering is visible along the upper edge of the hull.

  “I present to you, ‘Dampening Shields’, and ‘Navigational Shields’,” the engineer proudly states. He motions to the cross section as he explains, “after researching the scans of the Atlan carriers that were under construction, we came up with this solution. This armor is denser than theirs, and interlaced with power conduits, allowing energy to feed the integrated emitters, even if severely damaged. These would be in addition to our original shields, which we are now designating as ‘Combat Shields’.”

  Prime Algathor interrupts the presentation, as he asks doubtfully, “How do you expect to refit all of our ships?”

  The engineer glances to another, who then steps forward and says, “We intend to install an additional layer of superstructure to the outer hull of our existing vessels, then apply this material. Should we build new craft, they could have the material built into it, as the primary hull, but these craft would still require extensive superstructure supports to allow for planetary landings.”

  “New craft,” Algathor scoffs, doubtingly.

  Regent Voknor stands and announces firmly, “Yes, new craft. I have commissioned the engineers to research how we can do this. We must have the capability to build new ships, to cope with our growth.”

  “Growth?” replies Algathor sarcastically, “We are half our number, I do not see us growing.”

  Voknor pauses as he considers chastising Algathor for his near insolence, but instead states, “Prime Algathor, our clan will grow, you have my life’s oath on it!”

  Algathor shifts uncomfortably on his feet, then replies, “Regent!”

  At Voknor’s motion, the first speaker continues, “Although this technology is still in the preliminary stages of testing, we have discovered some unexpected benefits. These new shields require substantially less energy to operate than our current configuration, which we could leave off until required, thus potentially boosting our top speed.”

  Another engineer steps forward and points to the bottom of the armor as he explains, “This is where we connect the main shield’s control units, that activate the integrated circuits. We are not yet able to integrate these into the hull due to power considerations.”

  “How do you compensate for relative mass?” Roggard asks curiously.

  The first speaker glances at the second, then responds, “The Relative Mass Compensator will obtain its data from the Dampening Shields; we are considering adding a safety feature whereby they activate automatically with the main engines.”

  The second speaker excitedly adds, “It was our experiments with these emitters that brought about the Navigational Shields. These are a low powered shield, and should be able to deflect small objects, thus alleviating the need for our current shields completely, until a combat situation arises, that is.”

  Regent Voknor glances at the speakers and queries, “Three shield systems, instead of one. That sounds like a recipe for disaster! More failure points.”

  The second speaker excitedly blurts, “Our current shield system would remain unchanged. We would simply be adding two more systems, which we build into the hull. And they require substantially less power. Even if we lost both of them, our existing shields would still be in place; in fact, in the case of a combat shield failure, the others would remain operational, and thus the crew would not be effected by maneuvers.”

  Voknor stares at the engineers for a moment, then says, “I want the features thoroughly tested before we apply them to our fleet.”

  Prime Algathor stands and offers, “Regent Voknor, you are a forward thinker. I volunteer my craft and crew for trials of this new technology.”

  Voknor smiles, he knows that by allowing Algathor’s craft to be upgraded first, he would have the most advanced ship in the fleet, which could be a great status symbol. He nods to
the engineers as he instructs, “Prime Algathor’s craft will be the first of the fleet to be refitted.”

  The engineers glance back and forth, before the initial speaker timidly states, “We have planned to refit your flagship first.”

  Voknor shakes his head as he replies, “You could upgrade half the fleet with the same amount of resources that the flagship would require. It is to be refitted last.”

  The Primes mutter to each other; they are stunned that Voknor is placing their needs first. Regent Xasturz would never have done such a thing.

  Another engineer strides into view, and after a moment, speaks, “We have also designed an advanced ground based construction dock, one that will allow us to construct new craft.” He shifts uneasily on his feet as he continues, “The dock would require substantial energy; thus, a support craft has to be tethered to it. In addition, construction of new vessels requires vast amounts of resources, and we simply do not have enough mining craft, or the means to obtain what we need in a reasonable time.”

  “How long are we talking?” Voknor asks, curious about the engineer’s answer.

  “In theory, it would take One hundred eighty-five cycles to build a single vessel, and that’s after the dock is constructed.”

  The Primes shake their heads; staying on a planet for that long is inconceivable, even though they have been on this planet for longer already. The time here has felt necessary, due to the extensive damage to the fleet.

  Regent Voknor listens to the comments all around him, then states, “Good; now find a way to speed up this process, and keep me informed of your progress. We will hold off constructing new vessels until our fleet has been repaired, and Algathor’s craft is refitted.”

  The meeting disbands with the Primes feeling a greater confidence in their leader. Algathor in particular is feeling pleased with himself, and spends considerable time with the engineers, listening as they explain the process, and what will be done. Like all Primes, he has a vested interest in knowing how his craft operates, and he will not be outdone by Voknor’s ability to repair virtually anything.

  The seasons come and go, but few changes occur in the desert region they occupy, save for the enormous areas being strip mined. Slowly but surely, the fleet’s damage is repaired; engines are inspected, near depleted power units replaced, and the flagship’s bridge is rebuilt.

  Regent Voknor strides onto his new bridge, and grins; it is majestic. He gazes around, taking note of the four vacant control stations before his raised command chair, and the others on either side of the doorway, especially those that are designed for crew to stand at. This is virtually identical to the standard vessels, with a little more space in between. His glaze flicks back to the command chair, it is magnificent, and appears to have been crafted from a petrified tree. He walks to it and runs his hand over the polished material. Whoever crafted the chair did so with great skill, it looks more like a throne than a command chair, and as it should, he is Regent!

  An engineer rushes onto the bridge and excitedly approaches Voknor, “Regent, we have found a solution!”

  “A solution?” Voknor queries, confused as to what the engineer is talking about.

  The engineer shows Voknor a three-dimensional presentation of a construction facility. One with a huge base, resting on a virtual desert. Dozens of arms that curl around like ribs flex and move independently in the presentation. The lower sections hold a partially built spaceship in place, while the flexible tip, which houses a matter converter, moves back and forth, crafting armor.

  The engineer grins, then says, “Let me reset the demonstration, so you can see the beginning, at accelerated speed.” He continues enthusiastically.

  Before the Regent can respond, the image changes to show the empty construction dock. The control and construction arms move once more, and as they watch, craft landing pads, then work their way up, adding landing struts. The tips manufacture superstructure supports connecting the landing struts. The presentation continues, and shows internal decks being laid, then the external hull, followed by a thick layer of interlaced armor.

  As the presentation closes, the engineer proudly says, “All the construction teams have to do, is finish off some of the internal decks, and add service components such as life support, consoles, etc.”

  “Why can’t the dock lay all of the internal decks?” Voknor enquires.

  “We are working on the programming, and hope to resolve this, soon.” The engineer responds.

  Regent Voknor watches the entire presentation once more, at a slower speed, then questions, “In real time, how long would it take to manufacture an entire ship?”

  The engineer cannot contain his excitement as he responds, “It’s all a matter of resources. In theory, this dock could craft the basics in sixty days, then add another thirty for the installation of basic internal workings, followed by ten days in space, adding final components, freeing the dock up to start a new one. Realistically though, it would take longer.”

  Regent Voknor stares at the engineer, dumfounded, then says, “And this is with a support craft attached to provide power?”

  “Yes, and with minor refits, any of our craft could perform that function.” The engineer adds.

  Regent Voknor gazes out through his viewscreen at the planet beyond, then asks, “How long would it take us here?”

  The engineer’s smile fades as he replies, “We simply can’t collect the volume of raw materials required quickly enough. If our mining craft continue to operate non-stop, as they have been, it would still take a dozen cycles to build a single vessel.

  Regent Voknor suspected as much, then mumbles, “So, some of my father’s ideas had merit. We do require a planet with a civilization capable of gathering what we need. But there has to be a better way than enslaving and killing the locals.”

  The engineer shrugs his shoulders as he says, “What about other races, we must survive!”

  “Yes, we must, and we will. But I will not be my father, nor will we become like the Atlans.” Voknor replies as he casts his gaze upward. His thoughts turn to the first ship of the fleet to be refitted, and to the Prime who turned from opponent to supporter.

  Shields Up!

  Prime Algathor stands on the bridge of his craft, proudly staring at the new armor on his vessel. He makes his way to his command chair, sits down, then sternly orders, “Take your time running through the series of system tests. If anything feels wrong, terminate them immediately. Understood?”

  “Yes Prime,” resonates his bridge crew as one.

  “Now it is time to see if everything the engineers claim, actually happens.” Algathor states as he leans back. He watches with curiosity as his experienced crew begins.

  “Activating Dampening Shields,” states Pryle, Algathor’s pilot, as he touches his control panel.

  They all glance up warily as a slight shimmering begins to encompass the hull. They can almost hear a humming sound, but it is simply their imaginations, or is it? They look to each other as if to say, ‘can you hear that?’ Prime Algathor remains quiet; he can feel the adrenaline pumping through his body.

  “GLS live,” Pryle continues as he activates the vessel’s Gravity Landing System, feeding power to the gravity plates beneath the hull.

  Algathor’s craft is a sight to behold as it slowly lifts off the planet. Its armor shines, and does not have the pitting, or discoloration, the other craft have from their long time in space. The fleet launched from the Gamin home world around five thousand years ago, and has traveled many parsecs, surviving many skirmishes with a variety of Atlan forces. The repairs to the ships give them a mottled appearance, much like Gamin skin coloring, but not Algathor’s craft, its armor is brand new.

  The hovering craft turns, affording the bridge crew an impressive view of the flagship; even Algathor is awed at the overall sight. Other craft, just like his, are dwarfed, resting on the ground, scattered all around the flagship in haphazard fashion.

  The fact that Regent Vok
nor risked landing the enormous craft at all, is testimony to the name he chose; that of a radical, and a risk taker. The bridge crew stares soberly at the repaired section on the flagship. An Atlan crew committed suicide, in an attempt to destroy the powerful vessel, and they nearly succeeded.

  Algathor watches as they continue to spin while they climb. He leans forward, frowns, then asks, “Why is my ship rotating?” He clicks the claws of his hands on the ends of the armrests impatiently, as he waits for an answer.

  “I have never launched from a planet before, and the orbital thrusters are ineffective against the wind currents,” Pryle apprehensively replies as he applies more power to the thrusters in a vain attempt to arrest the craft’s spinning.

  “Oh,” Prime Algathor states, then chuckles as he adds humorously, “I thought you were simply providing me with a panoramic view of the area.”

  Despite Pryle’s best efforts, the craft continues to spin as it moves ever upward, parting huge white clouds as they continue to gain altitude. He curses under his breath; landing was so much easier; they practically dropped like a stone, straight down.

  The command crew is unfamiliar with their Prime making jokes, and wonder why he seems so relaxed. This is a test of their new systems, systems which may or may not work properly, and if they fail, who knows what will happen. None of them truly understand how much Regent Xasturz ruled his Primes by fear and intimidation. Regent Voknor listens to them, and in addition, gets his hands dirty, working to get the fleet ready. The Primes feel more secure in their young leader than ever before. They are starting to trust in his abilities to make decisions based on the fleet’s well-being, or to seek advice when needed.

  The bridge crew watches as blue skies give way to the darkness of space; fewer stars dot the viewscreen than they are familiar with, confirming just how far from the core of the Galaxy they have traveled.