Star Force: Crusade (SF93) (Star Force Origin Series)

by Aer-ki Jyr

  “I’d advise caution,” Vortison said as a couple of additional medtechs and even Arch Duke Vectir were standing by to watch, having heard of the unusual situation going down. “But I know it’d be wasted on you,” he added as he handed Rio his plate of six cookies with white icing.

  “I’ve never been this hungry in my life,” he said, taking the first one and biting it carefully. His mouth almost disintegrated from the taste of it. It was so good he might as well had been drunk, but he focused on the simple task of chewing and got his mouth into workable order…then wolfed down the rest of the cookie in typical Archon fashion. The remaining five didn’t last long either, with Rio even licking the plate to get a few crumbs that were left behind.

  “Is that all?” he asked, eyeing the box they’d come in.

  “We don’t know how much you’ll need, so just wait and step back into the machine.”

  Rio moaned, then reluctantly dragged himself away from the nearby box that appeared to be the holy grail from his altered senses’ point of view. When he got inside the analysis cage Vortison monitored the digestion process, and the somewhat long period of time was driving Rio mad up until he suddenly clutched the small of his back as he winced in pain.

  “That’s something,” he said, starting to get bits of pain all over his body. Nothing major, but something was happening.

  “More flash growth…this is amazing.”

  “Ow,” Rio said as the little ‘pops’ continued to grow in volume.

  “It’s not an ascension, but a readjusting of the tissue in response to the corovon. Lots of chemical reactions occurring, so expect some gaseousness. Oh my…”

  “What?” Vectir asked as Rio slightly doubled over, riding out the discomfort.

  “I can see what’s happening. It’s going to take a long time, so give him the rest of the box. We may even need more.”

  “Yes…cookies…please,” Rio said, not bothering to wait until the nearest tech grabbed the box and brought it to him. He telekinetically opened and emptied the contents, sending a floating string of cookies across the room to him like a little tasty convoy that he devoured one by one at the end of their journey.

  “What is it?” Vectir asked, walking up behind Vortison.

  The geneticist pointed to a particular hologram on his left. “This is familiar…but not in biology. It’s technological, as I expected, and modified into the biological, but the basic components are still the same chemical equations, which require corovon.”

  “I’m not a tech,” the Arch Duke reminded him. “What is it?”

  “Anti-grav,” Vortison said, shaking his head in dismay as Rio finally broke his cookie trance and looked at him. “I think he’s going to be able to fly.”

  Rio ran up the staircase, switching directions back and forth as he ascended the 42 meter height to the top of the platform where he subsequently walked off, falling back down to the ground of one of the trainees’ challenge courses. His flight ‘muscles’ strained under his weight, pushing back against gravity but failing. They slowed his descent but could not sustain him, dropping him to the grass somewhat gently.

  His feet landed with a thud, then he was running around to the opposite side and hitting the stairs again, heading back to the top and giving the psionic tissue attached to his skeleton at 86 points across his body a brief respite before using it again and floating back down to the ground. The trailblazer continued to repeat the process for the better part of half an hour, after which he couldn’t sustain himself any longer and fell the last time, catching himself with a telekinetic crash bag as he dropped, then dumped himself onto the ground where he sat and breathed heavily.

  The rest of his body was fine, but this new tissue was weak as hell and sucking most of the oxygen out of his system. He’d made a point of not drawing on his Hanme backups, but this was ridiculous…as was learning how to use it. All his other psionics came with some sort of genetic memory to allow him to function right off the bat, but this was more like adding a long missing part of his body that he had to develop the motor control for on his own.

  That and he was a good 6 pounds heavier since the corovon had been added. Volume wise that wasn’t much, considering how dense the stuff was, but 6 pounds on his otherwise 157 pound frame was a chunk. It was going to slow him down in virtually every other physical category, but this was totally worth it…or would be once he learned how to fly.

  Coordinating all the flight muscles was tricky, but having thought this through long ago watching cartoons he knew he’d be able to do a lot more than just move in a straight line. He should be able to dance in the air, and even fight with his feet a few inches off the ground…meaning double kick potential and a lot of other cool things, but he was so weak and clumsy right now it was almost laughable.

  At least the corovon cravings had gone away. Vortison had said that should be permanent, for the function of the muscles didn’t have him losing the material, and aside from getting shot and having to regrow the tissue he wouldn’t have to be adding any more corovon. He was at saturation point and had had all the excess stripped out of his bloodstream, losing a couple more pounds in the process, and while his tissue might get denser with time it wouldn’t get much bigger.

  In theory anyway. Without having any data on this Vortison conceded that he might at some point in the distant future require more corovon, maybe, but that the insane cravings were only because he had none in his body to begin with, and if he ever needed more it’d be a much lighter and manageable craving. Though the medtech was still betting on never given the structure of the flight muscles involved. The corovon helped to create the basic repulsory elements, not the power that fed to them, so the improvements should come in the latter category and be corovon free.

  But if he went Knight size he’d need more, though that wasn’t in the cards. Bottom line was, he shouldn’t have to worry about the cravings anymore and he was glad of that. Immediately after getting his corovon fill he had felt so bloated as the rest of his body’s ‘too full’ warning signs reasserted themselves, plus all those extra cookies he’d eaten to get the corovon into his system.

  He’d purged all that excess fuel with low level workouts and had gotten back into his fit trim, adding these new workouts once a day until he hit failure point. It was like when you ran so much your legs just called it quits and dumped you onto the ground when you stepped in a hole and stumbled. There might be some strength left in them, but they decide to crumple whether you like it or not.

  And that meant he was done for today, but when he got his breathing under control and stood up the rest of his body was perfectly fine. He even took off running across the combat course for a bit of a victory tour, noting how he was fatigued in some parts of his body while full of energy in others. It was very odd, with only his breathing rate tied into both, but he figured he’d get used to it eventually.

  That ‘eventually’ added up to 3 months and 18 days until he was strong enough to be able to jump into the air and hover in place, though balancing the ‘thrusts’ from all his various parts was insanely difficult. He wasn’t strong enough to just use a few, so he had to try and coordinate all of them. In hover trucks a computer evened out the different gravity drives to keep it level and that’s what he had to do now. Same sort of thing had happened to him when he was a baby learning how to walk. Numerous muscles had to coordinate themselves to move his frame and this was no different…except the rest of him wasn’t growing and learning at the same time, which made the contrast stand out and him extremely frustrated.

  But also eager at the same time, for while this was very hard to control he had unlimited time to master it, and when he did he’d end up being Goku…or at least Yamcha. Right now though he was Goten, just learning how to fly, and he could really appreciate the struggles with that now that it was real rather than a bit of cartoon entertainment.

  He wondered how fast he’d be able to get, both in straight line speed and acceleration/deceleration. Coul
d he blink across the battlefield, redirecting faster than he could even when he ran? There were so many possibilities he was practically pounding his fists in frustration. He wanted to fly now, but there was a huge learning curve involved, not to mention the physical development required. If he’d just been born in a fully grown body, he’d have been too weak to stand, let alone walk or run, but that didn’t matter to him, because he really wanted this now and was continually frustrated with how long it was taking him.

  And because of that he kept his training to himself. If he was going to stumble and crawl his way into this new ability he’d prefer to do it without anyone watching him. It was a great deal easier to pick yourself up after a fall and get back at it when you didn’t have to worry about someone else’s impressions or explaining your mistake to them. Training in groups or even pairs had advantages, but so did training solo and this was one of them that Rio intended to continue to make use of until he was ready to show off…no matter how much the other Archons wanted to see.

  He did make an exception for the few trailblazers on Earth, and even got their help with some telekinetic stabilization that allowed him to focus more on propulsion than wobbling, but then again they never laughed when he fell or asked for an explanation. They knew what he was doing and how he’d have to adjust to it, and how he didn’t need help getting up after he fell or any polite words of reassurance. They just stood by and helped where they could, but he wasn’t going to waste their time with a lot of help because the amount of repetition it was taking to progress was insane.

  He thought it was his imagination, but after conferring with Vortison and some tests they both determined that he was in fact learning slower with this new ability than he should be, and the reason was that he didn’t have a finished product, rather a prototype.

  A lot of the neurons and other structures within the tissue hadn’t been fully formed. There was enough there to crudely function, but it seemed that there was still an ongoing growth process that spurred off his training. His tissue was adapting and finishing the design process on its own, with some incredibly complex genetic algorithms that even Vortison was scratching his head at. The only explanation he could give Rio was that the Zak’de’ron had never finished developing a Zen’zat flight muscle design because no one had earned it, thus they’d programmed the final adjustments to be made on the spot.

  Which meant that if there were some Zak’de’ron Zen’zat out there that had this ability, albeit in the past, then their psionic tissue might have adapted differently than his. What that meant he wasn’t sure, because flight was flight, but the consequence of this was clear.

  The training he was doing right now was extremely important…and he didn’t know what he was supposed to be tailoring it towards.

  Once this adaptation process finalized he should be able to further develop and normally adapt with training as did the rest of his body’s muscles and tissues, meaning he had a very important timeframe here that he had no guidance on. He was just going to have to train as best he knew how for an ability he’d never seen before and hope his final design came out alright…though neither he nor Vortison knew what ‘all right’ would look like or what they were potentially missing.

  If there was a malfunction that occurred then that would show up, but beyond that they were both operating in the dark with Vortison already working on the basic mechanics of this flight tissue. A few months of study had been worth more than a millennia of fiddling around on his own. The depth of knowledge the Zak’de’ron possessed was never more evident than it was now…all of which made him question again what had really happened to Lara. Had it been a Zak’de’ron programming mistake…or something else that had gone wrong?

  He might never know, but he had to work with the Archons and their abilities regardless of how much information he had…and this new tissue of Rio’s was giving him a lot more to work with, as well as opening up a lot of new questions.

  As for the trailblazer, he knew he just had to keep pressing on and see where this led. DBZ style combat might be centuries off, but the mere idea of that was enough to sustain him through the monotonous and simplistic training exercises.

  And when it wasn’t, the holographic Vegeta ‘coach’ he’d had made for him showed up and began chewing him out over his unworthiness…and if you wanted someone to motivate you via insults, there was no one better. Especially when he offered you a ‘bitch mint.’

  Unfortunately his little tool didn’t stay a secret for long, and soon the other trailblazers and second gen were demanding they get copies of their own and in other characters. Morgan was the only one that sent him a personal thank you note, saying her Piccolo was the perfect training assistant…after she incorporated it into the V’kit’no’sat training hologram technology.

  At which point Rio then requested a copy of it from her…and a small training revolution started within the Archon ranks that would eventually spread out across Star Force all the way down to the civilian ranks and leave a permanent mark on their training philosophy going forward.

  6

  March 15, 3479

  Alamo System (Uriti Preserve)

  Warden Station

  Peter-2576 was linked into the telemetry of several of the Uriti as the Knights of Quenar convoy arrived. He wanted to know if the Uriti knew what was coming, and even with it sedated they immediately reacted to the presence of the large ship as it jumped into the system. From his point of view he could only tell they were reacting to the presence with anticipation and glee, but he wasn’t sure if they could sense the new Uriti inside or just deduced it by the size of the ship and the escort that had brought it nearly a quarter of the way across the galaxy.

  Whichever was the case, they were breaking from their previous positions and heading for the convoy. Matti-2548 was already there and waiting, so he wasn’t going to be giving the Uriti any orders today, but he did want to eavesdrop on them and pick up whatever insights he could. After 194 years in this assignment he still didn’t know as much about them as he’d liked, but he had nailed their reaction to this. To date there were some 11 collected, but none were as large as the one incoming.

  The Knights of Quenar ships…the most Star Force had ever seen in one place…split off from the giant cargo carrier as it began to shred on its own accord, revealing a four-fingered starfish-shaped Uriti that glowed with a pale white light. It outmassed all the other Uriti easily, stretching some 120 miles long tip to tip, but right now its arm ends were curled around and compressed inside the container and remained that way even as the ship peeled back and broke into several smaller segments that quickly withdrew.

  Peter watched from afar through their own senses as the other Uriti approached unafraid of their long lost brother. The historical records of the devastation this one had wrought were horrifying, and he wondered if even the V’kit’no’sat could have been able to stop it without suffering horrendous losses. It was truly massive, but as it slowly began to wake Peter was able to glimpse its telemetry as well. It had been dormant for such a long time it boggled the mind to think how it could have survived, but this one was strong. Far stronger than the others had been when they woke, making this Uriti the primadonna of the group even before it was fully back to consciousness.

  Yet whatever its last memories were, they weren’t good ones. As it woke it struck out reflexively, unfurling its arms and sending a cascade of lightning off into the void around it. Peter frowned at that, for such energy arcs typically needed a source to jump to, but soon distant telemetry from observing ships showed faint vapor trails where the lightning had coursed through. Somehow the Uriti, whom the Chixzon had named Irraprei, had sent out a faint physical tentacle through which to strike the lightning…and it was moving even now. It registered as gaseous, but it was twisting and bending around like an additional limb.

  That was definitely something the other Uriti didn’t have, but the Chixzon had been experimenting with each version and they’d gone with something
wildly different for #12. That also meant this was probably one of the more unstable ones, but as the other Uriti came closer its gaseous tentacles suddenly dissipated and its agitated state started to slip away with exhilaration replacing it. Peter couldn’t get a read on its mind like a normal telepathic link, but the interface did let the ‘owner’ know what shape the Uriti was in, physically and mentally, and this one, like those before it, was showing signs of extreme surprise and happiness.

  Three of the other Uriti came in close to it and began bathing it in another form of lightning, somehow helping it purge the remaining sedative and awaken long dormant attributes. After the ‘car wash’ was over with they all lingered close together with a large amount of conversation going on that Peter couldn’t eavesdrop on, unfortunately. But that didn’t stop Bahamut from contacting him and sending a simple ping of gratitude that sounded like an emotional bomb going off from the Archon’s end.

  Thankfully there were inhibitors built into the equipment now to keep such things from overwhelming the wrangler, though the allowable limit was still really ‘loud.’

  He responded with a much more subtle reply, but the two second exchange gave him a direct link into the Uriti’s powerful mind and each time that rarity occurred he tried to grasp more about how they were wired…but right now it was clear that it was elated and satisfied at the same time, which had become the standard response every time a new Uriti arrived. More were on the way, supposedly, but the handing over of the dangerous beasts was not something a lot of guardian races did lightly. The Knights of Quenar had secured this one through what Star Force thought might have been combat, but they hadn’t been specific and there was no point in pushing the matter.

  If they had fought a war to get it, it was so far from here that Star Force couldn’t watch over their shoulder, and there really wasn’t an option to say no and not take the Uriti. They wanted them all here, needed them all here, so they had no leverage to work with and the Archons and Dukes that ran the preserve knew it.