Cutlass Sharpened

by H. Lee Morgan, Jr

  After over a month of diligent morning practicing, Oliver at last was comfortable in moving his body with a more fluid grace when dancing with his sword. Muscle memory and repetition smoothed down the jerking motions and made way for haunting music. Now did his blade sing as he flowed from one sequence to the next. Its whistle had its own melody in his hand that was above what it made for Vanishing Claw. Like Renee in her lab, Oliver practiced to music that made his heart soar, allowing the slight sensation of invulnerability to set the mood.

  Standing and watching him flow and make the sword and body move as one was Stone as he and Satellite arrived down on level ten’s workout room. They were caught by surprise by the sound, speed and seeming ease at which he moved. The falcon chirped “I see you’ve mastered the steps and remade them into your own unique skill.”

  Oliver didn’t stop as he spoke. “I wouldn’t have been able to without you allowing Stone to spar with me and find out how the human body moves and adapts from blow to blow.”

  “I’m not into artistic expression, but music I know.” Deegen admitted as he followed with Bell at his side. “You dance to the tempo of death and that crisp sound is the orchestra composing the last sound an enemy will ever hear.”

  Sweat poured down Oliver’s face, showing the exertion was greatly demanding as he completed the routine, sheathed the blade and grabbed a chilled, wet towel to clean up and cool off. In the two months since being found, his hair had grown in thick, but was still rather short. At least his eyebrows had fully grown and made him look more normal for a man of his size. Months remained ahead to get it to the way he would prefer styling it, but it was still too short for any of that. “So what do I owe this pleasure of you four coming in here so early?”

  Stone got right to the point, he always had. “We’ll be exiting FTL in about an hour, but before that we got a surprise for you.”

  “Surprise? What are the four of you up to?” Oliver had also learned how to feel suspicion and gut instincts were sounding his internal alarm by the way they looked at him.

  “Six of us actually.” Visor clicked his beak as he rode perched on Steven’s shoulder. “Just hold your questions and get your tail feathers together to follow.”

  “Doesn’t sound too good to me.” He wrapped the towel around the backside of his neck, enjoying the cold pull heat from his flesh.

  “Just come on, Smartass.” Steven quipped. “You’ll like it. I promise you.”

  “Any guarantee I’ll like it?”

  “Let me put it this way. It’ll be better than a good woman between the sheets… and less maintenance to boot. As an added bonus, she won’t kill us all when she gets upset like your hotheaded mate tends to do hourly.”

  “She? What do you mean by she?” Suspicion grew deeper.

  The other Hunters turned with a bit of irritation on Steven who shrugged. “You’ll just have to see for yourself. We won’t force you to follow, but if you don’t I’m going to keep her all to myself.”

  “Well then if you want it then I absolutely need to make sure it’s mine.” Oliver broke into a grin, but that queasy gut instinct remained.

  “Thought you’d see it my way, Brother. Keep up.” The Hunters all turned and Oliver could only follow, which wasn’t hard as they didn’t run, not that anyone could keep up with him. They rode the elevator all the way to the private docking bay. As soon as it opened it was blatantly clear something was different.

  Normally the largest flyer was Renee’s shuttle stood dominantly in the middle of the spacious room. To the port side of the ship were the three fighters given to the Hunters. Each were near identical cutters with sharper angles, narrower sides and had wings which carried psionic cannons. Above the cockpit was a single angled mast that would allow for aerodynamic flight and speed.

  But now there sat a fifth ship. To the starboard of the shuttle was a slightly larger fighter than the one which the other Hunters flew. Instead of a single angled sail, this one had a double solar sail that attached to a clear fin above the cockpit to double as a mast. It had cannons underneath wider wings that looked more like wooden barrels that were three meters long and would act like stabilizers should a water landing be necessary. Three legs acted as landing gear for the sharply angled ship.

  Right away Oliver’s mind brought up exactly what kind of personal ship stood there. “A Flare? I thought only three prototypes were ever made.”

  “Told you I’d want it.” Steven chuckled.

  “Captain Dorgen has gifted it to you,” Stone said as they all crossed the hanger’s expanse. “but it has sat in his personal storage for three centuries and was in need of serious repair. The three of us spent our free time working on this beauty making her flight worthy. It needed a new sapphire cockpit shield. We had to break or more accurately shatter and wait as it took the ship two weeks to remake to our own specifications. The sublight engines were murder to flush out the dust, mold and other debris. It needed new seals for airtight space travel too. Only the frame lived up to the durability to not need any repair as it sat collecting dust. Deegen remodeled the sails. Steven reconfigured the flight controls and I worked on the engines and cannons to be twelve percent more efficient.”

  “But wasn’t the Flare fighter model an original eighth generation prototype that failed Empire safety standards? It was scrapped for another cutter class fighter called the Barracuda if I remember correctly.” Oliver recalled and laid his hands on the yellowish wooden ship.

  Visor glided off Steven’s shoulder and landed on one of the yellowed wings that would act as a step to climb into the double person fighter. It had two seats that could fold into a bed, but the passenger seat had no ability to control the fighter. The Golden Eagle clicked his beak out of habit before saying “Correct. The only reason the Barracuda replaced the Flare is because of over-sensitive fight controls. The shape allows for acceleration like our Seeker fighters, but no one has come close to duplicating a fighter with the maneuverability to bring out the Flare’s potential. No one except the one percent of ace pilots could keep up with its sudden turns and gravity alterations for long. It gave even those pilots mental fatigue after just two minutes. If anyone could ever fly this then no single ship made by human hands could ever match this prototype.”

  “Except you I’ll wager.” Steven said from behind his bird. “The captain learned I gave you my flight simulator programs and after you scared the living hell out of me, when you beat my top scores, he showed me the cutter of my wettest dreams. Everyone knows Captain Dorgen has a hard-on for everything pirate related of Earth back in the fourteen to eighteen hundreds, but not even I knew he got his hands on a Flare. I’d give my left nut to own one, but after doing a few preliminary checks I found out why it never left the prototype phase. The speed and maneuverability makes normal people see little more than a blur. Only excellent minds can keep up. Minds and freakish reflexes.”

  “In other words my reflexes would be able to keep up.” Oliver stated rather than questioned, his amber gaze taking in the personal fighter.

  “Pretty much, Brother.” Stone too could not help lusting after something so beautiful and deadly. Every Hunter’s desire. “Deegen’s solar sail design was selected for optimum capture of stellar photons. Steven calibrated and made sure the dampeners are fully functional so you won’t feel any acceleration or changes in momentum during high speed turns. In the weeks we had fixing this beautiful piece of work we’ve only been unable to test out the thrusters to full capability.”

  “Roh, and Ressica rupdated the gright comruter and reen display rince the original comruter was three renturies rold after all.” Bell barked as her paws pushed on other side to look over. Even her big yellow eyes liked the cutter.

  It was impossible not to take in every smoothly sharp angle for the sleek Flare. The bow of the ship had a curved edge resembling a blade. Its narrow design was perfect for parting waves as well as air. Soft yellow wood was seamless, but tough, being manipulated and reinforced with
gemstone technology. Sapphire without impurity was clear as diamond and was tough enough to withstand most damage meaning it was perfect for the windshield cockpit that covered everything.

  It didn’t take long for Oliver to place his palm on the reader to open the Flare’s hatch. Sails folded as the clear lid lifted and he easily climbed in the forward seat. Soft blue leather creaked as weight settled in. Oliver’s knees were a bit too close to his chest till he listened to Satellite explain where the seat adjustment was and moved it back to a comfortable arrangement. A single stick came up between Oliver’s knees as he pressed petals down below that would regulate speed and breaks. A simple gray coated finger trigger would activate blasters when one depressed the red button on top with a pressed thumb over the control stick. A holographic display lit up along the smooth interior showing the green light for every function of the ship. He read through the abilities and saw the filters were new and would recycle a supply of air for five years outside of a cryogenic stasis. Contained an emergency cryogenic stasis function if need be.. Had a year’s worth of regular rations. As he saw that Satellite said “For other people you may need to feed. The food is good for about five decades.” Emergency supplies included wire, rope, clear filament for three collapsed fishing poles, fishing tackle, a knife with a handsaw teeth on the other edge, tinder, several Inferno logs that would easily ignite and burn for days, accelerant, warped mirrors that can both be used as a primitive signaling device as well as a light focuser, flint to make sparks. Also on the list was long range communications, a link to the Dorgenox, a beacon tracer to not get lost, surface scanners and other bells and whistles. Last found was psionic fuel which was nearly full.

  “Did you guys fill the power reserves?”

  “The six of us pooled our strength these past three weeks.” Told Visor. “You’re still a class four who can barely make a spark let alone charge up a ship this size during flight. Just keep a hold on the stick, it will act as the conduit to keep energy always in reserve. We topped it off in event we find trouble when we drop out of FTL. You’ll be good for about ten minutes of continuous cannon fire, but a level four won’t be able to replenish enough to keep constant flight with what you can give before tiring. If you set down it’ll take a good twelve to fourteen weeks to fully charge up from what the six of us gave over. So when we leave, test her out and get a feel, but don’t get in a fire fight unless we need you to keep our feathers from being plucked.”

  “Then I should keep adding till the charge cannot hold any more.” Oliver grabbed the handle and opened the mental valve wider to Gather. From the gathering, he focused it down his left hand to seep into the wooden flight stick which absorbed the power and funneled it down into the batteries. Oliver learned how metal was the perfect conduit to store electrical energy within special batteries capable of storing great quantities of biological electricity which then powers crystals to release as plasma for thrust and shielding. Renee though taught him how to pass the energies into objects and it worked much like when he creates a slicing wave with the sword. It absorbed and released as needed. And was efficiently distributed. But much of the power would be dedicated to sublight engines, dampeners, gravity manipulators and life support. “What other little tricks can this creation do?”

  “Nothing I’m afraid. Aside from a reentry barrier, it is like any fighter.” Deegen admitted.

  “And what have we here?!” Piped Renee’s curious voice as she, Sparky, Jessica, Stephanie and the short Jacob Wrench exited the elevator together.

  “No WAY!” Stephanie in a blue and green flight suit that hugged every asset of her tone and voluptuous body could offer, yelled and hopped in the lower gravity when she wanted to run. “A Flare!” she said breathlessly as she made it over and her bright blue eyes roved it like a lover she hadn’t laid eyes on and wanted badly. “Where did it come from?”

  “Jake had the guys fix it up for me.” Oliver grinned, that queasy feeling was left in the past the moment he understood the reason for secrecy.

  “I didn’t know Jake had a Flare among all his other toys. Does he have the other two prototypes?” The archeologist was in love at first sight.

  “He said one was destroyed and the other went to another collector.” Stone said from what was explained to him.

  “I call dibs as passenger!” Jacob Wrench called out and climbed right in. Stephanie’s scowl could have killed if it was able. “It’s comfortable to boot!” he said tauntingly as he wiggled his butt in the second chair.

  “Then I call ride home.” Stephanie made sure before the small man could claim a round trip.

  “Not too bad.” Renee said and leaned over the lip. She winked as Oliver noticed her breasts being lifted higher because of the ledge. “Papa does loves his toys, but I bet this was under one of those sheets he never lets anyone peek under. Don’t feel too bad, Steph, Papa didn’t show me either. You know how he likes his secrets.”

  “Living a thousand years is proof having secrets kept him alive so far. Isn’t that right, Lizard.”

  Sparky’s scales began to glow as he glared at the taunting Steven.

  “Hold on…” Oliver didn’t remove his hand as he turned to the long necked Drake. “Sparky, how old are you?”

  For spite he whipped his hard tail against Steven’s armored ass before admitting “Sixteen hundred give or take a decade. My kind does not keep track like yours does. Drakes are a naturally long lived race before humans found us and discovered a way to gift immortality to my people. Naturally we can survive eight hundred to a thousand if we were careful enough to die of old age through cellular degradation.”

  “So that makes you eldest aboard the ship.”

  “Indeed.” Came the words put directly in a person’s head.

  Before they could keep going along that topic came the ship-wide announcement. “Listen up!” Came Jake Dorgen’s unmistakable voice. “In ten minutes we will exit FTL, Lads. Remember, we are already deep in Keptl territory. Get to yer stations to hold them off if we exit and find ourselves face to face with those insatiable bastards. If the worst comes to pass then we must hold them off to recalculate another route which will take fifteen minutes minimum. Hopefully none of their living Goliath carriers are in the area and moved on. In any event, the risk is worth the reward. Hop to it ye dogs! Nine minutes seventeen seconds remaining.” The alert ended.

  “Guess that is our cue.” Jessica spoke in her own blue-gray matching flight suit like Stephanie’s.

  Oliver turned in his seat to say “Jacob, it would be safer if you got out. If we exit free and clear I need to learn just what the Flare can do. It’s been sitting for centuries and even though it has been repaired, it hasn’t been tested at all for safety under actual stress.”

  “Uh, then I better stick with Renee’s Skipper. I’ll get a ride later for sure. If the mission is time sensitive, I can’t afford to have you swing back around to pick me up. It’ll take too much time.” He hopped out and followed the others to the shuttle. Meanwhile Jessica was inside and opened the hull door to the hanger to show the bright colors of FTL.

  At the countdown to zero the color just completely vanished and was replaced by the blackness of space dotted with starlight. It was a sorely missed view.

  Up on the bridge Captain Dorged stood beside Abdul at the helm. The moment the FTL drives turned off he said “Begin long range scans.” One crewman down below did just that.

  FTL calculations must be specific and precise to the trillionth of a nanosecond. That is the realistic need for that kind of travel. Since space is constantly moving out and away since the birth of the universe, nothing remains in one place. If one thought it did, they would end up far from the intended destination. Getting lost in the endless expanse was a high possibility without computers to calculate star placement. Getting lost was the best of a worst case scenario. One could arrive inside a black hole, find themselves in the pathway of a star, arrive in an asteroid field or even get blindsided by a rogue planet fl
ung from its home star system. The crash on Zerika was proof as they had dropped out of FTL a hundredth of a nanosecond too early when the final traces of oil were gone. The intent was to exit on the other side of Zerika and use the planet’s long reach of gravity help slow the ship, but that certainly didn’t happen.

  Out the photon clear window was a great deal of space and starlight. To the untrained they were lost out in nowhere.

  Below a woman said “Captain, star drift matches the charts you took passing through. Binary stars make this system home and hold twelve planets and two dwarf planets in orbit. Three are gas giants and the remaining planetary bodies are too hot or cold to sustain flourishing life.”

  “Abdul, rotate the ship for a clearer view.” The wheel spun and the emptiness changed to show a blue and a red star orbiting each other with the planets going steadily around them. “Report on the first gas giant’s largest moon?”

  Another woman said “The moon’s gravity is three percent less than standard, is thriving, but hot due to volcanic vents from the gas giant during its elliptical orbit which generate strong tidal eruptions from its molten core. Methane levels make it impossible to breathe the toxic atmosphere so helmets must be worn at all times. I’m reading five Keptl bio-signatures around a twelve kilometer radius of a mountain you marked as the downed ship. Also there are also two Salamander signatures likely nesting in it. Remaining hostile signatures are a day’s travel from the area by ground. No Goliath Keptl transports are found around the moon, but a large hive dominates the continent. Psionic readouts confirm a strong mind inside and they are aware of our scan.”

  “Fine, we’ll keep the bastards focused on us. Abdul, make it seem like we are simply passing through and scan them so they know we are watching. Go slow, but not too slow through this system so we don’t reveal our hand. The controlling bastard may just be curious, but knows without a space faring Keptl it can’t do anything against us.”