Sif crossed the 10 meters that separated her from the two men, almost flying. Her boots hammered onto the gleaming stone floor. Both men turned around. Both were surprised, but neither seemed to recognize the blonde woman in a billowing, black leather cape, brandishing an old-fashioned sword.
The bald-headed, black-robed man took his surprise to another world. Sif stuck him so hard, and the sharp blade split him from head to collarbone. Sif kicked the dead man to free her sword and to face the gray-suited man, who just drew a weapon from his pocket.
Sif dropped to the floor. The man fired and a laser bolt parted the air where Sif had been a heartbeat before. She executed a leg sweep, tripping her opponent, and with catlike agility she completed the spin and followed with a hard kick against his temple.
Her attack was so fast, so decisive, that the man did not have a chance to fire again. Her bloody sword tip hovered less than a millimeter from his left eye and she hissed, "Drop it!"
The gun dropped from his hand, she kicked it out of reach and slowly got up without ever moving the sword away.
He didn't look so smug now, and as hard-boiled as he might have been, looking at a blood-dripping, razor-sharp sword tip this close, was more than unnerving. "All right, all right! Take it easy with that poker! You are probably here for the girl. Take the sword away and I’ll tell you where she is."
Sif laughed. "No, you half-rotten slime fish, I am here to skin you alive for what you did to me!"
Now his eyes showed he recognized her. "I’ve got some Califerm for you. Now put that sword down and I’ll get you some! This is what you want."
She had planned to question the man as to why she had been kidnapped and what he wanted from Eric but she had the same easy-to-anger temper as every Norse from Nilfeheim. She plunged the sword right through his skull and spat out, "No, this is what I wanted!"
Someone screamed and from the now open double door a woman wearing a black robe looked at the gory scene and ran out calling for help.
Sif barely made it to the door herself as a policeman and a robot appeared. "Drop your weapon Citizen!"
She was unsure of what to do next. The robot rattled, "Suspect scan complete. Outstanding warrant of Pluribus Police on file, suspected Califerm dealer!"
Both the cop and the robot were armed, and while Sif thought she might be able to overwhelm the cop, she had never fought a robot.
"Last Chance, Citizen, drop your weapon. Califerm dealers can be shot on sight."
Chapter 5: Third Year
My life, so it appeared, had changed. Almost a year had passed and I had not been in any sort of trouble. I had almost forgotten that I was in my second year and that this was an Academy field class. We had just returned from a diplomatic mission, ferrying a delegation of Union diplomats to the fringes of free space. The Daoine, a cautious species of human-sized rat-like beings considered Union membership but were afraid of retaliations from other free space civilizations who hated nothing more than losing one of the signatory members of the Free Space Treaty to any of the Big Four. The Daoine, it turned out, were more or less pressured to sign in the first place and were sick and tired of organized pirate raids against one of their eight colonies. So their king invited a Union delegation and allowed Union ships to bring that delegation. Fleet Command decided it was best to show a little force and that's why the Hyperion and two other battleships provided an "honor escort" for the diplomats.
After a delegation of Daoine witnessed a live fire exercise, that more or less pulverized a sizeable moon, the Daoine were eager to go to Pluribus.
Captain Zezz just delivered the news and said the Hyperion would fly escort all the way to Pluribus. Then he waved me over and said, "You know, Mr. Olafson, today is officially your last day. Your second year academy time ends with your shift. You could take your vacation, a vacation you earned. And we are going to Pluribus, so if you want you can leave us there."
I felt like I’d been hit by a cold shower and was not prepared for this, the weeks and months had flown past and I had felt content. I never had any doubts about my career choice, but the time aboard the Hyperion had cemented it.
I had learned to read the Klack XO’s emotions by the way he moved his feelers. I could see he was amused but he tried to stay serious. "That leaves us with a problem, Captain. We would be short an OPS officer. Mr. Olafson and Mr. Dirksen are the only ones aboard able to man that post and they are running double shifts as it is."
Zezz nodded. "Yes, I am aware of this, but the man has a right to his vacation and we are getting our OPS replacements on Arsenal, January third. That would leave this man not even a day of vacation!"
I straightened. "Sir, I would like to volunteer to serve those two months. The last time I had a vacation I got in all sorts of trouble and besides, Sir, eight more weeks aboard the Hyperion would be the best vacation anyway! I am in regular contact with my home world and they understand."
"You’re not even a little homesick?" Zezz asked.
"Sir, I really do like Nilfeheim, but it is still Longnight and besides, the Hyperion is like home to me."
"Well then, Mr. Olafson, don't just stand around. There are still two hours till shift end and we are on a diplomatic mission. I want you to double-check tactical sensor data. I am sure there are quite a few parties out there who don't like the Daoine becoming Union members."
"Aye Captain," I said, and returned to my duty station.
INTERLUDE: SIF
Sif was again a prisoner, this time not in a dungeon, but in a well-lit holding cell at the local police station. She had found out that she was on Perryton, a Union world and the place from which she had escaped was called the Church of Darkness. She had been charged with multiple homicide and Califerm dealing. Her Nilfeheim leathers and the sword had been confiscated and she wore a plastic coverall like the other prisoners to her left and right. She was told her parents were notified, and that made her cry in shame and hurt her more than the fact of her arrest.
She wondered what her father would say when he heard his daughter was arrested for murder and drugs. What would her mother think, and her big brother? She also thought of Eric, who was still in danger. Whoever had abducted her wanted her as bait. They wanted to kill Eric and she had told them all they wanted to know! She even told them about his secret. Did she cause him to lose his commission? She would never forgive herself if she had caused him harm.
She had been interrogated by a plain-clothes detective, but she had told him nothing. She would tell no one anything again. The detective painted her a bleak picture and showed her a visual of a public hanging, telling her that this was what would happen to her. He told her that a judge might opt for psychosurgery if she would tell everything and confess.
The cops didn't beat her or torture her, but they kept the bright lights on and kept interrogating her. She felt tired and exhausted, helpless and angry. Yet she held on - someone had rescued her from the dungeon and that was not a dream.
There was some commotion outside! She got up from the plastic cube, the only item of furniture in the cell, and barely long enough to lie down on. With two steps she was at the forcefield curtain that separated her from the corridor and saw two cops and the detective walking backward! An old man she knew well, accompanied by a beautiful silver-haired woman and a completely shrouded man had arrived. Seeing the shrouded being she was afraid that he belonged to the same group that had captured her. The dark-robed man gestured and the forcefield disappeared. Egill, always so grumpy and straight, ran and wrapped her up in his arms. Tears dropped from his old eyes into his now well-trimmed white beard. "I am so sorry Sif!" was all he said.
All her strength left her and she cried bitterly and began to talk and she didn't stop and repeated herself and every other word was "sorry". Egill brushed the hair out of her face. "I have failed you, my child! Forgive me!"
"You can't just waltz in here and release a dangerous murderess and Califerm felon!" the detective complained. "It does not matte
r who you are, we still have laws!"
The silver-haired woman spoke. "Laws you have not followed. She is a citizen and has the right to legal representation. Where is her lawyer? Besides, she is, as of this moment, under Saresii diplomatic protection."
"This is not Sares and you have no right! File the proper forms and go the official way, the woman stays in her cell until a judge says otherwise."
The shrouded man turned his head back and forth. "Most fascinating! This is most fascinating! If a judge says she can come with us, she is free to go?"
The detective now was joined by several cops and said, "You cannot frighten me. I know you are a Narth, but the law is the law."
"It is very illogical for you to determine what I can or cannot do. You do not know Narth!"
The detective's eyes grew wide, and he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Oh my god, take it away! Why are the maggots in my throat?" He dropped onto his knees.
The Narth said, "I am not completely able to comprehend the situation, but I hope I was able to demonstrate that I, indeed was, successful in creating the emotion of fright."
The cops pulled weapons; the situation was getting out of hand. But Sif was as surprised as everyone when a half-naked man with shaving cream on his face appeared out of thin air. The Narth said, "I am certain you are the judge that the police officer was referring to. Would you please tell us otherwise?"
The man with the white hair-removing cream on his face looked completely dazzled. "What is going on here? Where am I?"
It took a while but after the Chief Justice of the Union himself called and talked to the local judge, Sif was able to go. She was put into the custody of Egill until charges could be formalized or dismissed. A Federal Investigation Team was also called.
Several hours later, Sif found herself in the plush lounge of beautiful fast-looking spaceship. A Saresii medic had checked her out. She had calmed down and was able to tell the three men her story. Egill promised her that the matter would be investigated by Federal police, as it involved not only a kidnapping, but also a threat to Union security.
Egill also told her that she did not have to worry about her legal problems and that it would be taken care of.
When she asked where the ship was heading, Egill said, "We are going home, Sif. A few weeks of cold Nilfeheim air will do us all good."
Sif had, however, kept the details of her miraculous escape to herself and Egill simply assumed she had been traveling with her Nilfeheim things all along.
She was intrigued by Egill's companions and the usually so dignified Saresii could not keep a straight face and kept giggling, so much that Egill asked why, and the First among the Saresii now openly laughed, barely able to remain on his seat. "The face! The face of the local judge after our Narth friend transported him into our midst. I will never, I swear, I will never forget the expression on the judge's face!"
***
The Hyperion approached Arsenal IV just as Captain Zezz said, with only eight hours to spare, before I had to report for my third year posting. The extended time of my stay aboard the battleship appeared to have gone by even faster.
The Klack XO touched my face with his antennae. "You have been outstanding at the OPS station. I have seen many others struggle with that position."
"Thank you, Sir. Your guidance and the tutorship of the other bridge officers were the real reason I managed."
To Zezz the XO said, "Can we not request him to have his third year posting right here on the Hyperion? I hate to lose him."
"I wanted that too, but his third year posting has been pre-determined and I have clear orders to deliver him no later than today."
The entire bridge crew shook my hand or patted my shoulder.
Zezz said, "Mr. Rider, front and center. You do have the souvenir?"
"Yes Sir, I sure do!"
The tactical officer told me to spread my arms and then the Captain himself helped me into a black officer’s jacket, the kind full commissioned officers were allowed to have. On its sleeve it had the unit patch logo of the Hyperion.
Zezz squeezed my shoulder with his big claw hands. "Take care of yourself and keep your fangs clean and your honor true."
I could not really explain why my throat felt constricted and fighting tears. He was an ugly, frightening-looking Shiss and yet I felt a deep affection for him and everyone aboard. "Yes Sir, I will, and thank you Sir, for giving me this chance and this experience to serve among the finest beings I ever had the honor to meet. To be here on the bridge, long before the time I should be here."
Zezz squeezed a little harder, his tongue flickered and he said with a deeper tone in his voice, "Your shift only ends when we have landed. So take her down and land on FYBO Port, Mr. Olafson. Take the con!"
This was the third and final year of Academy training. Except for some specialist careers like legal or logistics, it was traditionally served aboard an Academy ship or sometimes a regular ship of the line. That I had the great fortune to complete my second year aboard a ship was an exception. My orders were precise. I had to be on Arsenal IV by January third and no later than 09:00 hrs at Space Port Three, main building Standby Lobby 34, and wait there until further orders are given.
Zezz had accompanied me to that lobby himself. We shook hands once more and the big Shiss Captain actually gave me a hug! "One day we’ll meet again and I’ll take you to Milzaaar for mud worm hunting or we will see Nilfeheim together and hunt a Tyranno Fin!"
"I would like that very much. I would be honored."
He straightened and said, "I’d better keep going. We have to take the Hyperion off the landing field. As you know, we only have permission to land for an hour."
He turned, walked away, waved at the door and left.
The lobby was deserted; there was a Non-Tox bar at one side with a robot tender. The same mustard-yellow carpet I had noticed in every Union installation I had been so far covered the entire floor. I was certain there was a Union Fleet regulation that stipulated why it had to be this kind of carpet and that color. There were comfortable looking vari-form seat groups around low tables. The entire side of the lobby that faced the landing field was transparent, with a great view over the immense landing field.
Arsenal IV was a cold planet, and its climate was not too different from Nilfeheim, as the two oceans were covered with a thick permanent layer of ice. Unlike Nilfeheim however, the ice here never thawed. I didn't know if Arsenal IV had a suitable atmosphere from the beginning or if it had been made, but standard nitrogen oxygen-breathers could go outside.
Arsenal IV was one of the Fleet's major shipyard installations and, here on the North Continent, was the Fleet's largest spaceport. No one called it by its official name, in the Fleet it was known as FYBO Port. Lt., Rider explained to me that it stood for "Freeze your butt off".
Since there was no one but me, I walked over to the transparent wall. The Duro-Crete landing field stretching beyond the horizon was hexagonal and stretched 2,000 clicks in every direction. In its center were the spaceport buildings.
Even the mighty Hyperion looked forlorn on the huge open area. I noticed Zezz's ship was the only ship on the landing field. Usually, all ports in the Arsenal System kept busy traffic around the clock and ships left and came in at every given moment. But right now, it appeared almost deserted. A lonely octo-bot rolled away from the Hyperion. Octo-bots were amazing machines, some of them as tall as battleships, some of the big models over 2,000m tall with up to 20 memory metal, syntho muscle-powered tentacle arms. They reminded me of walking upside-down kitchen mops. The original octo-bots, so I was told, had eight arms and that is where that designation originated. The big ones, like the one outside, were able to grab fully loaded, house-sized containers and lift them with speed and accuracy into open cargo doors. Specialized octo-bots performed maintenance and repair jobs. This one out there was a SII Octo 2,000. A 2000m unit and among the tallest planet-bound autonomous robot systems in service.
"Wow! There is a ba
ttleship out there!" said someone to my left, and I turned. A Midshipman with senior year stripe on his jacket sleeve had appeared next to me and, like me, was staring out the viewport. He was half a head taller than me and had a bulky-looking, massive appearance, with a barrel chest. His arms, I was certain, were thicker than my thighs. His hair was short and black and his skin had a suntanned brownish hue.
He immediately smiled as he noticed me looking at him. "Are you a senior too?"
I nodded. "Yes, I am!"
He turned back to the window and said, with awe in his voice, "There she goes!"
The Hyperion lifted off.
It sure was a sight to see. The human mind, or at least mine, had a hard time accepting the fact than an object as big as a mountain took off and rose into the sky as gentle as a feather in the wind.
He pushed his big hands against the transparent wall. "I was never on a ship of that size. Were you?"
"Yes. This is the USS Hyperion. It is the ship I came in with."
"You're kidding me, right? I mean, you came on a battleship?"
"No, I am not kidding you."
"I came here in a measly D12.” He held out his hand. "I am Mao-Mao."
I took his hand and mine almost disappeared in his. "I am Eric Olafson."
"Sure glad to meet you. Since you're here maybe we’ll serve together on whatever ship they are assigning us."
"Glad to meet you too, Mao-Mao."
Above his senior stripe, he showed the crossed gun barrels of Tactical. His ribbon display marked him to be a blaster marksman and hand-to-hand expert.
Now it was his turn to check me out. His eyes widened. "Is this what I think it is?"
"I am not sure I know what you are talking about."
"That blue ribbon with stars on top of your readout. That is the Medal of Honor, is it not?"
"It is."
Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 6 (The Galactic Chronicles Series) Page 12