by Dark Knight
Why?
Because that female hamster had the unflinching and dead calm smiling face of Anit’za...
Chapter 5
Minor setback
Kera somehow managed to inject the crazy hamster with a life-saving amount of medi-gel, but only enough to keep him on the very brink of death. The grav-stretcher quickly secured his body, and Kera ran as fast as she could towards her medbay. When designing ’Starshatter’ those Terrans had a lot of things in mind, and the survivability of her pilots and deck crews were chief among them. Starshatter’s medbay was situated really close to her hangar, and built to ensure maximum accessibility. It was spacious, and because of captain Anit’za’s thoughtfulness, properly equipped. Inside, she or any other medic had access to two fully mobile medical stations. Those were complete with PDA operated surgical tools, and if need be drones. It also had more hospital beds that were easily slid back into the medbay’s walls. Unless they had unexpected visitors, like a group of recently freed slaves or perhaps, a squad of colonial militia, Kera kept the beds locked. She needed the space for her training and... witches hours.
Starshatter’s corridors were shaking and while the battle outside was still raging on, the Avern’a woman lifted the veil she placed on her powers a bit. Kera felt the maddening calm of a Dzenta’rii mind, very much in command of the situation and wrapped around the trappings of wishful, self-trusting mischievousness. Next to the captain of Starshatter, her husband was reaching the lower limits of his telepathic ability. Kera managed to soften the wails of those souls who were screaming the loudest – he need not suffer more than he already did. Nobody was aware of what he had to live through every minute of every day, and they sure didn’t have to know about what he kept at bay in his own telepathic mind.
Her mate was then able to warn everyone of an impending enemy star marine assault, and she extended the information forward to Ort. Why were the taz’arans aiming to invade their vessel while both starships were still exchanging fire? Certainly their ship was bigger and had an edge.
Kera was not a strategist, nor was she a hardened space warrior – as always, understanding these battles was never easy. All she could do was heal their wounds and minds so that they might continue living, fulfilling the universe’s wish. The duality of her role was inescapable – without her the warriors would die and their enemies win. Kera was fighting too, albeit in her own way.
“There will be no more War if you stop fighting!” – A person with less intelligence might believe in that, but she knew better. There will always be something to fight over, be it resources, space, or the very right sentients had to live free of oppression. If those who stood in the way of invaders, enslavers and tormentors were to be disarmed, won’t there be even more death and suffering than before? Her very life-story taught her the answer to this question – it was a resounding yes. Had there been enough of her race’s warriors, stronger than the Jaern who were plaguing her homeworld, perhaps her destiny would’ve taken an entirely different twist.
Turning around towards her medbay, Kera’s face was reflected in one the wall panels and she suddenly remembered the look in Boris’s eyes when he saw the tank with her mutilated body floating in. She realized then, that was the first moment in his life that her future husband felt true terror... What had happened after never disturbed her, nor did she have any nightmares or such. An entire space station pushed from its orbit, all escape routes sealed, burning and crashing into the planet’s atmosphere below. Through her connection Kera sensed what that being felt towards the Vaugn slavers then.
Nothing.
Exactly nothing, as if for the Universe they had ceased to exist. Still taking space they were, still breathing, eating and multiplying – yet the Being had perhaps shed any meaningful connection to their lives. Did they commit sins unforgivable? Towards others and mainly themselves the Vaugn had done so and for thousands of years. Kera was sure, those of them lucky enough to be saved may lack any desire to live. The damage done was too great perhaps, yet she was not about to give up on them that easily. There had to be another way for them to be saved. At least some of those tormented souls, for these men truly deserved salvation. Ort was an example that it could be done. Even in the position that she was, without limbs, locked within a tank full of cybernetic devices, Kera still managed to save a soul and extend a life.
While pushing the grav-stretcher, Kera noticed that the small hamster was chewing on a bloodied piece of his own spacesuit. In his confused, yet fearless mind, he was experiencing a crisis of consciousness. In reality what would’ve been a devastating and mind-braking experience for most races, was but a joke – more “story” material as hamsters used to say.
A truly marvelous race those hamsters were. As a scientist, Kera’s knowledge encompassed hundreds of other sentient creatures’ cultures, but none were in any way similar to those small Terran clients. Not mentally anyways, as there were many other small, and even tiny sentient races in existence, roaming around the Galaxy. They perhaps, in the future would be agents of great change. Them and their Terran brethren, with whom they ventured across the stars.
The door of her medbay opened and she pushed the grav-stretcher next to their ship’s regeneration chamber. Kera quickly prepared herself for the procedure to move the battered hamster body inside. She couldn’t sustain him alive outside of it for long, although an hour was more than what most medical specialists could squeeze out of their meds. Kera felt the presence of their ship’s pet and slightly turned around. Snark was sitting on the second surgical station, eyes transfixed upon the body of Awesome. She could feel overwhelming sadness oozing from that feline and even see tears in her eyes.
The critter emitted too much sorrow for it to be normal. Perhaps some form of accident happened and Snark suffered damage to her mind? Kera had to find time and perform scans on the cat’s brain. Her link told Kera little about the state in which Snark’s mind was currently.
Snark meowed loudly and then wiping her tears away with paws, gracefully leaped off the table, exiting the medbay. Kera sighed. Certainly the creature was a mystery and yet, even with all of her medical knowledge and expertise she was unable to unravel it. At least Ort had an excellent relationship with the cat, somewhat rare and almost unnatural for an Earth dog. The feline even shared her treats with him, the ones she got from Captain Anit’za. Ort himself was happy to play with her and sometimes both chased each other, madly running the whole length of Starshatter’s corridors, barking and meowing. Both were feeling happy and full of primal bliss; for a short while their tortured minds free from the terrible baggage locked within.
Especially Ort. Even though he was transitioning well and his mind adapting to the new body, the torture that his psyche had endured was tremendous. Deep inside his soul hatred for his old mistresses, the Vaugn Matriarchs, was solidifying, strengthening, and exponentially growing. A day might come when hate either consumes the core of his being, or Ort would learn how to best it. Kera would see that the second should happen. That creature had suffered enough in its life, lonely and shackled in the darkness of his mind.
“Ugh...” – the hamster moaned again, and she saw his perplexed, confused face. What was he lapsing into? Instead of asking the help of her ’friend’, Kera decided to play it safe. Better to put Awesome inside the regeneration chamber than playing a “space witch” as most other races called Avern’a women with her gift.
She was beginning to like the term, although the negativity that it came with was also understandable. The capacity of women with power to do harm was very much equal when compared to men, and the fact that most were not sitting on starship command chairs or emperor thrones was irrelevant. The hold they had over their mates was very much equal to total and complete control – females were used to pulling strings from behind the curtains. That was true for most of the races she possessed knowledge of. Vaugn were an exception of the norm, but they were a broken race and as far as she knew, a dying one.
&nbs
p; While she sent Ort to guard the medbay door and started punching commands on the main holo-control panel of her mainframe, Awesome’s body twitched and his legs moved ever so slowly. It was as if he was running from someone or... something.
Kera redoubled her efforts and soon the manipulators that her surgical table was equipped with, gently lowered her crewmate’s wounded body inside the regeneration chamber. She heard him mumble again, twitching panicky while the chamber’s lid was closing, and extended her arm snatching away that chewed piece of spacesuit Awesome had in his mouth.
Starshatter’s hull shook from a series of explosions and lights flickered – evidence that their insidious enemy was still out and ever-so keen on inflicting harm upon them. Kera placed her hand on the tank’s poly-steel surface and gently whispered to Awesome with her soft, silky voice:
“Worry not, my dear hamster friend. Your new crew-kin will find a way to achieve victory. They always did on their own, and will more so now, when they are working together.”
Kera felt the presence of her mate and nodded in agreement – even with him away on the bridge, she felt safe. The beautiful stunner that he gifted her was then promptly unholstered and placed on the surgical table, conveniently close. As Terrans used to say – “At an arm’s length.” Kera reached in her desk cabinet and pulled out of it one small handcrafted bag. The person who made it for her back on Cav boasted that his creation was reinforced with vacfoam and space-fiber. Certainly Kera had no use of fashionable items to begin with. Why would she accumulate huge wardrobe of clothes and other trinkets that at best, she’d wear once before the “fashion” changed? And it did cyclically, ever returning to styles who were old, ancient even, forgotten to all but those who designed newer and flashier clothes. Looking at the bag, Kera wanted it to be functional, and not sparkle in the darkness, nor sport any elaborate eye catching holo-art. Just a normal bag that she could carry her equipment in. She slung it over her shoulder, reached inside and pulling a stun grenade out checked its trigger.
Her commitment to Life meant that she would not kill indiscriminately, but that didn’t mean she was going to let herself be killed.
Kera was a peaceful woman, not a stupid one.
She cracked her fists and stretched her muscles, mimicking the set of exercises that her husband Boris taught her. Avern’a were an athletic and graceful race, whose beauty was legendary. But beauty alone couldn’t protect you – one should learn skills and hone certain abilities to increase chances of survival. After all, survivability meant that you would preserve your genes and the legacy of your kind would continue in the future. Why would anyone be unwilling to defend his people, and not ensure the future of their own children?
Instead of any other martial art or some rigid hand to hand combat system, Kera decided to learn the classical Terran dance technique called Ballet. She was most fascinated with the music itself in the beginning, as it was permanently embedded within the very light energy that coursed throughout the Universal consciousness she was in contact with.
Were other sentients aware of the true nature of Power? Probably some, but most lived throughout their entire lives remaining completely oblivious of it. Music was as much power, as it was light.
Undeniable multi-layered sonata of energy. Every ray of starlight carried within itself great many things; love, hate, life and death – their energies were all intertwined with each other, forming an amalgam, a self-sustaining concoction. Somehow maintaining by itself a most precarious, precious balance between the sum of each if its parts. Humans possessed a great capacity to sometimes unwittingly weave math into music, therefore producing exorbitant amounts of Power.
The many classical musicians and composers of Earth’s past became a great source of inspiration for her, and she developed the habit of listening to some of their music, while working or training alone in the medbay. And that dance, that Ballet; she was at first perplexed by all those strange and archaic postures that had to be learned in the beginning.
Kera did realize something after a short time in training – it was about movement control, as much as it was about grace, and performance. A mere beginner, Kera was nevertheless able to break wooden planks with her “weaponized dancing”. Also an expert in exobiology, the young Avern’a woman could combine knowledge, the inherent grace of her own race, and those dancing techniques to achieve most devastating results. Dislocating limbs, cracking or outright shattering bones, then by targeting the pressure points of most sentients’ nerves that she had knowledge of, Kera could, without killing her opponents incapacitate them instead.
Breaking someone’s bones to stop them from hurting her, or the one she loved wasn’t something that Kera would shy away from. The ship was shook violently yet again. Something that almost took her by surprise, whilst the voice of her captain boomed all over the intercoms:
“Everyone, prepare to repel boarding parties!”
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Cat continued ordering barrage after barrage, shot from her ship’s main railgun battery. Again and again Alic’s peerless aim achieved exactly the result that his captain was looking for. An expert in ship to ship combat the star marine mentioned that, were they in a position to occupy the debris field first, the battle would be theirs from the get go. Cat had to agree with that titan of a man whom she after learning of his background, all but idolized now. He could expertly take full command of the Starshatter, and then the fool taz’arans would experience terrors they had never thought possible again, since the destruction of ’Bremen’.
Nevertheless, Captain Anit’za had demonstrated excellence beyond her wildest imagining. Cat was all but sure – that dzenta’rii had a master-plan and was practically dancing around the battlefield, making their taz’aran enemy instead trip and fall. In every order, she sensed something deeper, deceptive, and meticulously thought over. First, that use of the enemies’ very cover against them; while in itself brilliant, was but a part of her captain’s overall plan and their enemy, while surprisingly competent for a border taz’aran commander, he fell for it – hook, line, and sinker.
Instead of using their advantage in size like they were supposed to, the enemy was duped into over-committing themselves and tried dealing with the small, rapidly moving Starshatter by virtue of one single attack. On the sensor-stream Cat noticed that the taz’aran starship had enormously large for its size capability to generate power. That they committed all... and continued doing so, from the moment Alric was ordered to shatter their cover. They generated more and more heat, moreover, the enemy had chosen to overcharge their main particle-beam guns in their effort to quickly end the battle.
Captain Anit’za had used that, goading them into actually prolonging it, all in his favor, of course. And while Alric’s accurate shots glanced off their reinforced bow shields, Cat noticed the all so obvious – their chief engineer had heavily shaved off shield power from his port and starboard sides. The enemy starship’s heatsinks, no matter how big and advanced they were had their limits, yet she could order Alric to fire dozens of railgun barrages without heavily tasking theirs.
After landing one last railgun barrage that hit the middle of their enemy’s bow shields, Cat finally understood everything. Her eyes widened with great anticipation and perhaps, a little bit of awe. To make use of your starship, your own guns, defensive systems, and play you into weaponizing them against yourself – that was the true nature of space warfare!
And indeed, even with their own starship being hit a number of times by glancing particle-beam attacks, Cat was sure that their only trouble would be repelling that boarding team. She could almost sense them closing the distance, even without the telepath’s aid.
As always, one’s plans were perfect only when viewed before battle on holo, and as reality stubbornly refused sometimes to comply with even the most genius of stratagems, Starshatter was shook by a violent explosion. Boris’s suit began steaming, while he was
using his powers to protect them, Starshatter was soon to be shot by their enemy’s overcharged main guns.
“Captain! She can’t take any more of this!” – Shouted Brynjar, as his engineering station holo-screens were blinking with all sorts of alarms – “Main reactor core will take critical damage if they manage to land a direct hit with those guns of theirs, Sir! Not to speak of our hull. Our modified shields won’t hold against weapons of that caliber forever!”
“Worry not, they are not going to hit us. Not completely that is. I am told your people claim themselves to be the very best pilots of your race, navigator Vasilisa. Care to demonstrate this and showcase your excellence?” – Captain Anit’za’s calm voice acted as a bucket of cold water for all of his bridge officers, and as the main holo-screen showed one huge blink of light coming from their enemies starship, Vasilisa hands moved in a barely visible blur. For one split second the dzenta’rii managed to follow her movements, but that was just the beginning. The end he missed, as his navigator did something those controls were probably not designed to do.
Or were they?
His entire being shook with anticipation, almost in unison with his starship’s rapid maneuverer. Now that was living! Surely dzent’a couldn’t experience exciting moments like these if they chose to remain closed in their ancestral manors, and young nobles had to be made aware of this. Those guys were missing something great. Besides the third or fourth sons of a House were always forgotten and left to their own devices. Why not exchange a life of boredom for this?!