by Greg Curtis
He also understood that if the Calderonians had not fought back as they had, had not nearly destroyed the Kaiwhare as they had destroyed them, then he and the rest of the universe would not be here to debate the evils that had been done. The Kaiwhare’s goal was apparently to be alone in the universe. They would have destroyed any and all intelligences that they found and the Interstellar Community and mankind itself would never have seen space. Only the Kaiwhare's own demise had stopped that from happening long ago.
But now they were back, with unknown strength and unknown technology. And they were determined to finish what they had begun, using all of their evil. It was unthinkable and it was happening.
Day after day as he wandered the base, that understanding left him sick. And there was so little he could do about it. Mostly all he could do was try to ready himself.
As part of that, in his spare time when he wasn’t with Karen, which was unfortunately too often as she was very much in demand as both a major in the Security Arm of the Force and as a doctor, while he was effectively redundant, he’d begun a refit of the Sparrow. Total re-engineering would have been closer to the truth as he rebuilt the old girl into a state of the art war bird. Or what had been state of the art only a few short months before.
In truth he didn’t fully know why he did it. Perhaps it was his interest in the new technology he was suddenly allowed access to - and there was almost nothing in the engineering field he couldn’t study any longer. Perhaps it was in desperate preparation for a war he had already unleashed. Maybe it represented a fascinating engineering problem. Or it could have been the result of simple boredom and the need to do something other than spending his days worrying? The reality was that all of the above probably played a part in motivating him.
Of course in many respects it was a waste of time. The Sparrow was not a warship and never could be. And though its makers had designed a light patrol ship variant of the same vessel, it had never been designed for the systems he was putting into it. But there was little else he could do with his time, and he used no resources that others might need, and it did help to update his knowledge. At least that was how he justified it to himself, and nobody else seemed to object. They had too much else to worry about.
He helped himself to the second hand drives that had been discarded as a fleet of ships underwent its refits. It wasn’t hard considering the mountains of discards that were accumulating as the Force desperately rebuilt its fleet ship by ship. They had a queue of battleships a thousand or more long, only fifty stations set up to do it in, and a limited number of engineers available at each. No one had the time to pay him the slightest attention, and if the ever-growing pile of discards shrank by a couple of tiny pieces here and there, it was just one more thing they didn’t have to dispose of. They didn’t even miss the androids he used to do the labour. They, like the parts he was helping himself to, were also outdated.
Using the parts from three separate Force cruisers and mixing and matching the best, he’d soon managed to put together a unit that could probably hit terrig twelve and cruise at eleven. Nearly as fast as the Targ itself - or at least it would be until the Targ got its new drives in turn and could run at fifteen.
It was a mish mash of parts, as he mixed and matched units, finding the best from each and discarding the rest, but there were enough serviceable parts between the three that he had been able to assemble one complete drive and install it on the Sparrow. A drive with plenty of light years left on the clock. The seconds he was picking up were far from beyond their usable life, and in fact some of them were almost brand new. So the Sparrow now had a heavy cruiser model K73 drive. With a few new wrinkles added in. Currently, he was waiting for permission to give it a test run, though he knew that would be some ways off. At least another month till the Targ had officially limped home and the Sparrow could be seen in public even if he couldn’t.
At that stage he was planning on renaming the ship, if only to make it harder to trace back to him. In any case the ship had slowly changed shape as he worked, with new bulges growing everywhere as she had to accommodate the over sized parts. She wasn’t so pretty any more - in fact some days he thought she looked deformed - but then that could also be useful as it would be harder to recognise the ship as a result of the changes.
The engineers from the base had done everything but laugh out loud at him as he’d begun the work, in a friendly way of course, although they had lent him a hand occasionally. Not to mention providing him with some translated manuals for the drive units, and access to their tools. He knew they were running a pool on him as well; - whether or not the ship would run at all, or whether it would just blow up. He’d taken a bet of his own, Fifteen energy cells that the Sparrow would not only run, it would break terrig ten. And thus far all his systems checks had given it the green light.
Actually the drive unit wasn’t too different from the old one, in principal anyway. In design though it was a radical departure. The gravitron was only slightly larger, but it came with a power amplifier that most resembled a massive glowing tree slug as it ran all the way to the front engine bay bulkhead, which in turn had had to be shifted forward even after he extended the tail of the ship by another ten metres to squeeze in the control equipment. It had proton injection manifolds everywhere that stuck out like quills on a porcupine, and a completely different design of drive coils which meant he had to move more bulkheads beneath the engine bay, and then he had to extend the power train along the underneath of the ship, until it looked as though the Sparrow had a massive scar running from its bow to its tail.
Next of course there were the new reaction balance tanks, which had reduced the size of his main hold by at least a couple of metres, the new gravetic shielding he’d had to install all around the bay’s walls which made engineering look like a silver cocoon, and a plethora of monitors and control units that had turned his once spacious engine bay into a series of tunnels and narrow walkways as he had to squeeze past equipment everywhere. The drive was simply far too large for the ship. In twentieth century lingo he’d shoe horned a V8 into a mini, but at least he knew it would work. Everything the Force developed they tested and then threw in diagnostics and safeties without end. The drive was green.
Working on the Sparrow was more than just therapy for him though. More than even a way to take his mind off his ever growing worries. It was an education as he rapidly caught himself up with what had been almost the current level of knowledge of the Community. Working through the systems, rebuilding, sometimes even redesigning them piece by piece and then checking them against the specs, he’d been learning Force technology as fast as he could. If nothing else he hoped it could help him when the war came and every engineer was needed.
He’d also started applying basic Earth technology to it, and found ways to boost the drive well beyond what it had been. New flow paths for the proton injectors, an ancillary graphite coil to smooth the power flow between generator and coil, and a significantly beefed up flux resonator. Designs that he’d lodged with the engineers. Some of them he hoped they might look at one day, especially when they wanted to get the very last watt of power out of a drive. So he felt as if he was paying his way with his project.
Karen of course thought it was silly, though she was too nice to say such a thing. The Sparrow could never be an effective warship, and from her perspective she thought he would be better learning Force engineering by working on Force ships. She was right of course. Working in a Force engineering unit would be a good way to upgrade his engineering skills. But it would take time. Time he didn’t think he had. And it also wouldn’t help him to learn about Force technology, only how to use it. It was the difference between an engineer and a scientist.
Working with his own hands, designing and redesigning his own system, testing and error trapping the results, was teaching him more and faster than anything else could do. He wasn’t just learning the Force way of putting the engines together, he was coming to grips with the under
lying principals of the drives, the mathematics that determined their operation, and from that working out ways to adapt and improve them.
It helped that as part of the resources he’d been granted access to there was a complete history of Force technology. Not just for interest’s sake, but because it showed him all the turns they had taken over the centuries as they advanced their technology, the good and the bad. And they in turn could guide him as he attempted to upgrade even what he’d taken.
It wasn’t just drives that he’d been playing with either. The others didn’t know it, and he wasn’t about to mention it to anyone lest he got thrown in another brig, but he’d added much more than just the cruisers’ propulsion units to the ship. Call it paranoia, or just determination to master all aspects of their space ship tech, but the Sparrow had had a complete refit of all her systems.
The maser, was now a hundred times hotter again after he’d raided another scrap pile, and his main hold had shrunk by another couple of metres as he’d had to install larger energy banks and cabling as thick as his arm to handle the raw power. But as with everything, it was the way you used the power that was critical, and his redesign of the focusing coils, with a mix of human and Force technology had improved the new weapon’s efficiency to supernova levels. Of course it had also required that he build a metre thick collar around the ship’s nose, which looked particularly ungainly.
In addition the Sparrow now had a whole new shield generator, again taken from the cruiser discards, and in accommodating it he'd had to make some more sacrifices. There was now no room left in the engine bay; he’d collapsed his two small labs into one, and then shifted another bulkhead forward and collapsed his galley by half as well. But the tiny little ship now had the same shielding as a full sized cruiser.
On both sides of the ship just under the wings he’d installed weapons pods, complete with two dozen of the hell fire tachyon missiles the scientists had been working on. But by reshaping the hull around them and including hatch covers, he’d made it seem as though they were just beefed up reaction tanks for the thrusters. The missiles had been taken from the scrap heap of older units and modified to the new standards, one by one and in complete secrecy. Even he knew that if anyone noticed the weapons tech he’d fitted, he’d be in the brig again, and Karen would probably tell him off endlessly. Not that anyone had the time to spend checking up on what the crazy human who’d started all this mess was doing.
In a desperate attempt to gain an internal access way to the pods, he’d modified the wing profile enormously, so that instead of the stubby retractable units it had once had, the Sparrow now had a pair of full forward profiled rapier wings, with a metre and a half high crawl way down their middle. Adding a full flat tail unit above the ship’s newly lengthened rear meant that between them the Sparrow should have true flight capability in atmosphere, instead of just that of a slightly superior guided missile, even with its bull nose.
He’d also copied the new cloaking unit they’d been working on, and then added a whole new half deck above the bridge to house it and act as an advanced sensor array and third computer suite which he’d also found in the discard pile. It looked like a giant mole on the Sparrow’s neck and back, and further broke up her once smooth lines. But with the new wing profile and beefed up thrusters he was confident the ship would fly through the atmosphere despite them.
Naturally the ship’s superstructure had had to be altered to handle the extra power flowing through it, and piece by piece he’d replaced the old girders - the skeleton of the ship - with newer industry standard Fleet structural components also raided from the stock piles, while the internal walls, floors and ceilings had been thickened and welded hard against the new members, making the whole ship into one gigantic titanium body. It wasn’t an orthodox design, mainly because it made it damn hard to ever replace faulty parts, but it made the ship tough beyond its size.
Finally, once he was satisfied that there was nothing else he could add or modify on the Sparrow that could make it any faster or stronger, he’d re-hulled the entire ship. First recoating its every square millimetre with liquid titanium alloys two centimetres thick for extra strength, and then adding the additional protective layers the Force ships used to absorb weapons fire and block sensors.
Thus the once shiny titanium flying fish had become a pregnant black guppy with its mouth open wide, dorsal and ventral ridges and a pointy tail. But from the right angle and with his eyes slightly squinted, he could almost imagine it for the deadly little shark it was.
Inside though, was another story. It looked like a mobile scrap heap. A half assembled collection of parts, with wires and cables everywhere, while many instrument panels were missing or in pieces. He hadn’t programmed the mechs for neatness. It was also incredibly tight.
All the new sensory equipment, computer lab and cloak generators took up massive amounts of space like everything else, and as a result he now had only two cabins left to add to his woes. One to sleep in and one as an office. On the other hand the new computer suite behind the work stations was large enough to add a king sized bed to, provided the sleeper didn’t stand up. Meanwhile the already tight hallways throughout the ship had actually shrunk as he’d lowered the ceilings to run more cabling, and raised the floors to run additional reinforcing along the length of the ship. The bridge with its untold new monitors, consoles and ancillary nav computers had somehow shrunk to the size of a shuttle’s with only three remaining work stations. The Sparrow was becoming very claustrophobic inside and he pitied any Xetans who one day might ride in her. Especially if they wanted to work on the engines.
But he also figured it would be fun perhaps to put Helos in it, and have him start counting the permits the ship lacked. He’d be counting a long time. There was almost nothing unchanged about the Sparrow. It was an image that had kept him amused as he slaved away day after day.
*****************
“Daryl.” He roused slightly, almost asleep, worn out by their exertions. But there was something in Karen’s voice that simply overrode his need for sleep.
“Mmm.” He opened his eyes and smiled. Karen was holding him, tight, and even in the dim light from the hall, he could see she was wide awake. He smiled at her, wondering if she’d already recovered enough to make love again. He couldn’t imagine it. The last bout had nearly left them both in agony. But despite that he still knew he’d try. He’d always try.
“I have to tell you something.” It was serious too. The look in her eyes said it was very serious, and she was worried. Suddenly Daryl was wide-awake and worried too. Was she shipping out somewhere and leaving him? It was his worst nightmare, and one he’d always known could happen. Karen was a soldier and there was a war coming, while he was just a civilian. But it was unacceptable. Months of passion like theirs couldn’t be allowed to end. Not so soon. Not ever.
“Anything. I love you, and whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”
“I hope so. I’m pregnant.” It should have been a bombshell, no doubt she’d expected it to be, but for some reason Daryl wasn’t even phased.
“Oh thank God! Don’t scare me like that. I thought you were leaving me.” The relief was incredible and he let loose the breath he’d been holding, even as he grabbed her and held her close.
“I’m not leaving you. Why in space would you imagine that?” She seemed surprised he could ever think such a thing. An attitude that pleased him enormously, though as a stupid male he couldn’t admit it.
“And don’t you even dare think about it either or I’ll tan your hide!” Yet he was only covering his relief and they both knew it. Besides, in a straight out match it wouldn’t be Karen’s hide that got tanned. He wasn’t just unfit, he was untrained and she knew every dirty trick there was when it came to fighting. One day, maybe, he would do some training in hand-to-hand combat.
“So you’re pregnant? Already? In just a few months? I thought we’d have a little more time. Lordy me you know that means w
e must be extremely compatible.” She just looked at him, surprised, trying to understand and failing. He couldn’t blame her. He was somewhat confused himself.
“Love, I knew from the start that I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life. There is no one else for me. There never will be. I hope you’re proud of that because you’ve ruined me for other women. And I knew then that I wanted a family too, with you, and I’d never really thought about that before. So this isn’t so much a shock for me as a surprise. A wonderful one.” He only wished they’d talked about it before. “It’s just a little sooner than I expected. I hope it’s also what you want.”
“It is. I just didn’t think about it either. Stupid really for a woman. But I’ve never been so besotted in all my life. Like a teenager in love. Everything else was just forgotten in the rush.”
“And me too. I promise you that.” He kissed her tenderly for once, on the cheek. “I can’t seem to concentrate on anything else when you’re near. And when you’re not I’m just plain miserable. Two teenagers in love and not a single working brain cell between us.”