Joe turns around and adds his thoughts, “What I don’t understand is why three of Emma’s people stayed behind in the hydroponics area. They were supposed to evacuate.” He stares at Cindy with a forlorn look.
“We may never know,” Cindy replies with a sigh. She lifts her gaze and stares through the ship’s main viewer at the night time landscape. She turns her attention to the well lit cave, while her thoughts drift to the upcoming funeral service. She says in a near whisper, “We’re paying the price for being out here, yet again.”
Patrick hurries onto the bridge and interrupts them with his excitement, “Cindy, Joe, heck, I think all you guys should come and look at this!”
Cindy turns to look at Patrick and is surprised to see the man is not in his Gamin bodysuit. “What is it?” She asks curiously.
With a wide grin, Patrick replies, “If this thing is what I think it is, then we have struck pay dirt.”
Cindy stands and surprises Robyn when she turns to her and says, “The Bridge is yours.”
“Yes ma’am,” Robyn replies in a serious tone. She nervously takes her place in the command chair. She runs her hands over the controls, momentarily awed by the responsibility, then relaxes. The ship is on the ground, so it is unlikely that she will have to do anything.
While on their way to the hangar deck the group meets with John. Cindy stops and smiles, “Ah you’re up. Good, come with us.”
John frowns in confusion, and as he cradles his side asks, “Where are we going?”
Cindy stares at John with growing concern, “Henry said that your injuries are minor, little more than a paper cut. Are you okay?”
John winces as he pats his side, “A paper cut!” He exclaims. “I’m a pilot, not a soldier, and this is no paper cut, I can assure you.” He is about to complain some more, but his curiosity gets the better of him, so instead he says, “But I can come with you. Wherever it is you’re going.”
“Good,” Cindy replies with a smiles, “because you’re flying.”
The landscape is rougher than appearances, and not easily traversable by ground. So even though the Terran is on the ground, flying is the best way to get to the cave.
John lands the shuttle inside the entrance to the cave. The second they exit the shuttle Robert turns to them and while waving calls out, “This little ship of theirs is damn amazing.”
Patrick leads them inside the Raiders craft, then points to the controls up front and says, “You guys know a ton about alien technology, but I think you’re going to get a kick out of these consoles.”
Joe sits in one of the two chairs and looks at the controls. His jaw drops in surprise when he notices that they are in English. Cindy chews on her lip as she wonders what this means.
George stands back in his bodysuit and points to the ship’s controls, “These are adaptive consoles. They automatically adjust to the language of the person who is using them, not too unlike our own on the Terran.”
“Adaptive?” Robert questions curiously. His natural reporter’s instinct kicking in as he feels a story is in the air.
Joe, who has spent the most time studying the Gamin Technology, glances at Cindy for approval, then answers. “The Terran’s consoles record who has been using them, and what that person usually has displayed.” Joe notices Robert’s near blank expression and adds, “All I have to do is walk up to any of them, press at least six fingers on the screen, and the display with revert to my standard settings.”
Robert is overwhelmed by the answer. He frowns, then casts his gaze over the others and asks, “Why haven’t I read about this in any of your briefings?”
Cindy grins and replies, “Because there are some things we don’t want everyone on Earth to know.” She directs her attention to the consoles before her and asks, “Are you guys sure these operate same way?”
“Let me recheck,” George replies. He strides to the front of the craft, his bodysuit fills the gap between the two seats. After a few moments he locates the port he has been plugging his suit into. He connects to it, then studies the scrolling marquee of data that appears on his suit’s faceplate. After fifteen minutes he shuts down the data transfer, then steps from his suit. With a massive grin he reports his findings, “Yeppers, exactly as I thought. But these units are far more advanced than those on the Terran.”
Robert’s jaw drops, “More advanced!” His mind reels at the concept, and the possibilities.
Cindy frowns and asks, “How does this system even know our language?”
“The ship we destroyed must have scanned our database and transferred the information to this one.” George replies as he shrugs his shoulders. Before anyone can respond he quickly adds, “But that’s not what’s amazing.” He steps up to the console in front of Joe and touches a symbol with the words, ‘Scan Mode’, below it.
The forward view changes to that of a local star map. A bright dot pulses in the middle of the screen. George turns to Joe and says, “I think that dot is the Terran’s main drive.”
Frowning Joe responds, “It can’t be. The main drive is off.”
“Is it?” George asks while he gives Joe a questioning look, “Or is it on standby?” He adds while raising his eyebrows.
“There is one way to find out,” Joe replies confidently.
Peter interrupts them and says, “Hang on Joe, before you do that, can that map be enlarged?”
Joe stares at the console, then smiles as he expands the map to around fifty light years. No new dots appear on the map.
George nods slightly at Joe’s work and says, “From what I have learned, this scanner is specifically designed to detect engines like ours, Gamin engines.”
“Now that’s disturbing,” Joe replies. He shakes his head in bewilderment, “Another race that’s hunting the Gamin.”
“Another race?” Robert queries, suddenly catching Joe’s words. Today has been full of surprises.
“Yes, the Atlan’s.” George replies.
“Oh,” Robert replies as he recalls reading reports about the interstellar conflict.
George muses, “Sharz told me a little of their long standing war with the Atlans.” It’s an unusual war,” With a troubled brow he continues, “hundreds of years can pass without hostilities. Then bam, an Atlan ship meets a Gamin ship, and immediately attacks.”
Cindy raises her eyebrows and stares at George in mild surprise, “Do you have anything else you would like to share that we may not know? ‘Cause that’s a biggie,” she states as she stares at him sternly.
George shrugs his shoulders and says, “I figured you all knew that by now, I mean the Gamin fleet was pretty banged up when it arrived at Earth.”
Robert tilts his head in curiosity and asks, “What else can you tell us about the war itself?”
“The Atlans shoot first, and ask...” His words fade as he stops midway through the usual rhetoric. Instead he finishes with, “actually, that’s all they do, attack. There is no communication.”
“You know,” Cindy says with trepidation as she recalls their last trek into this region of space, “we were shot at after we collided with that space station.”
Joe nods his head and adds, “Yeah, and while we’re on the subject of the Kord, they were pretty keen for us to leave.” He lifts his eyebrows and adds, “And we were not invited back either.”
Robert’s jaw drops as he stares wide eyed at the bridge crew. He stammers, “None of you told me any of this.” He stares up at the console with its flashing dot and adds, “It’s more dangerous out here than I thought.”
Joe nods his head in agreement, “Yeah, Regent Voknor pretty much told us the same thing.”
George thinks back to the many conversations he had with Sharz, then with a slight frown asks, “You do know of the Atlan Prophecies? Right?”
Everyone stops and stares at George, then waits for him to continue.
George stares back and says with a skeptical sigh, “C’mon, I know some of you have heard of the Prophecies.”
Cindy glances from person to person, then says, “I think we’re curious about what you know.”
George takes a deep breath, and replies, “Roughly every thousand years, the Atlan clerics make public one of twelve prophecies. According to Sharz each one usually reveals some new technology. In some cases it has taken the Atlans hundreds of years to implement these new discoveries.” He glances at the others then continues, “The last prophecy provided the Atlans with a new space-carrier, one that can single handedly challenge an entire Gamin fleet. Prior to this, the Gamin were holding their own in most battles, though they would still usually retreat.”
“But if this war has been going on for thousands of years,” Robert counters, “why don’t the Gamin just find somewhere else to live?” He shrugs his shoulders, and adds, “I mean, the Galaxy is huge, right?”
“They have tried,” George responds, “they have been retreating further and further, which is how they found us.” He sighs, “The Atlans want to wipe the Gamin out.”
Robert feels pangs of sympathy as he queries, “Genocide?”
George nods then adds, “To make matters worse, the twelfth and final prophecy will be revealed soon, which is why the Atlans have been more aggressive than usual.” George lowers his head in sadness as he adds, “And Sharz thinks that this one will be the end of them.”
Robert gulps, “And here we are flying around in a Gamin ship!”
Cindy replies with conviction, “Which is all the more reason for us to get to the derelict soon, acquire as much technology from it we can, and get home.”
Joe rubs his chin then adds his thoughts, “We know the Navicon unit acts as a beacon to other Gamin ships. I wonder why these raiders haven’t just stolen one of those?”
George turns his head to Cindy and smiles a little sheepishly, “Because the Gamin consoles are usually set to self-destruct if they are not connected to a Gamin ship.”
Cindy shakes her head and says, “And when were you going to share that tidbit with us George?”
With a shrug of his shoulders, George replies, “It’s not really that important. We are in a Gamin ship after all.”
John can feel the tension building, so he steps closer to one of the front facing chairs and changes the subject by asking, “When can I take her for a spin?”
“Hold on,” Cindy replies, “I think we should take this one step at a time.”
“Agreed,” George says, and then adds. “We need to make sure that we can power the ship up safely. I have also yet to determine how fast the main drive is, and I have no idea what damage its weapon systems can do.”
“Weapons?” Cindy retorts in surprise.
“Oh yes,” George responds with delight, “This little ship has it all. Powerful shields, tons of thrusters, and even directional sub-light engine ports, for space combat maneuvers, I would guess.”
Cindy glances around and then says, “Well, it has seats for sixteen passengers, and two pilots, all in one area. There is no cargo space, so where do they sleep?”
“Oh, this is an awesome feature. Let me show you.” George says excitedly. He steps out of his suit, walks over to one of the built-in chairs, and sits in it. “Watch this,” George says as he presses a previously unobserved control.
They all watch as the central portion of the chair seems to slide down the wall, becoming a bed. At the same time a clear plastic-like covering envelopes George. He gives a thumbs up and his voice is clearly heard as he states, “These units have their own life support systems.” He presses the same control, and the bed reverses its process to become a chair once more.
Cindy stares at the cockpit and says, “What about the pilots?”
George shrugs his shoulders and says, “My best guess is that two of the seats are for the pilots, unless I have missed something, which is why we need more time before anyone goes on any joyrides.” He ends his comments while staring directly at John.
Cindy paces the area between the rows of chairs for a few minutes, and then finally says, “Okay. Joe, John, and George, you will stay here with Radclyf and Hayato’s men. I want everything in this cave investigated and inventoried. If it is safe, load it on the Terran, and that includes this ship...” She pauses, gazes around, and then says, “if it fits through the hangar entryway, that is.” She nods to George, “The military engineers can repair the Terran with your assistance, when you can spare the time. Peter and Patrick will go to Emma’s site and assist.”
Everyone nods their heads in agreement, the plan is a good one. The talks continue through the night, and into the early hours of the morning as they discuss many of the finer points. The three ear pieces, which were recovered from the deceased aliens, have fallen down. They now lay on the floor, down between the pilot’s chair and the side wall of the captured ship, forgotten for the time being.
The group finally disperses to get some much needed rest. Robert smiles at Cindy as she departs, and nods his head in appreciation of his free hand to report on whatever he feels is the most important. He grins a little as he has already decided to relegate the more mundane tasks to the reporters that have accompanied them.
Cindy sleeps fitfully as she ponders what to do about those who died. As the one in charge of the ship, it is her duty to decide whether to keep the bodies in their morgue’s freezers, or to come up with an alternative. She wakes up, fully alert, and then relaxes. She knows what to do.
With Joe’s help, Cindy finds the right place to bury their dead. A small, uninhabited island which rests in the midst of a huge ocean. The island is sparsely covered in vegetation, and is small enough that the chances of it even being used by the Oglans are slim.
Later that afternoon, the bulk of the crew is assembled in the Terran’s hangar deck. Those that do not stand on the main floor, line the many levels that surround the hangar, and respectfully wait. Thirty-two coffins occupy an area near the ship’s ramp. Each one has a white sheet draped over it. The bridge crew all stands solemnly near the caskets.
Cindy lifts up a microphone, one that is connected to the ship’s speakers, and begins. “Today we bury our dead.” She lifts her gaze to those above and having gained everyone’s undivided attention, continues. “Their sacrifices have allowed us to survive an attack by a determined and powerful force. Space is full of dangers we could never hope to imagine, but then that has been the price explorers have paid throughout our history.” Cindy casts her gaze around once more, “And I will remind you all that we are explorers, and thanks to these brave individuals, we can continue to explore.” She takes a deep breath then finishes her speech, “We honor those who have fallen.”
The bridge crew slowly and carefully carries the first coffin into a transport shuttle. They take their time, and load all thirty-two coffins with reverence. Though Cindy is saddened by the brief service, she is a hardened individual. She glances across at Emma, then Suzanne, and almost envies their free flowing tears. She knows she must remain strong, for all their sakes.
Cindy boards the shuttle with John, Joe, George, and Patrick. John flies the craft in silence. In fact, no one speaks until they land on the island Cindy and Joe had located earlier. They all exit the shuttle, then wait.
Cindy stands on a small rocky outcrop and addresses the small group. “I think they would have liked to be buried here. Most of those who died had no allegiance to any one country, and as for the three members of Emma’s team, well, what better place to be laid to rest than on the planet they were to study.”
Joe smiles, then says, “Dog’s time with us was short, but he has left a lasting impression.”
The others nod in agreement, and then begin the task of unloading the coffins. George and Patrick use their suits to dig thirty-two individual grave sites, then after the coffins are lowered, they craft a monument which covers the entire site. The task takes them quite a few hours, but no one complains, nor hurries.
Finally they are all done. John stands back with Cindy and admires their handiwork. The
large dome covered rotunda has thirty two pillars, each of which is deeply etched with the name of one of the deceased. The interior consists of a rock floor with a grave marker for each person. Gazing upward from inside reveals more engravings, the twelve signs of the zodiac, as seen from Earth.
Joe walks around the entire structure, then with a deep sigh, says sadly, “This is amazing, and I am certain they would have approved.”
Cindy does not give the crew any time to wallow in grief. The following day she makes sure that everyone returns to the tasks they were assigned.
Emma’s Team
Emma stares blankly at her new, state of the art computer pad, then tosses it onto her bunk in frustration. She storms out of her tent in a huff, then places her hands on her hips and stares at her surroundings. Her team of more than three hundred has managed to erect a staggering number of tents. Her eyes rove the once open field in amazement. They had brought almost five hundred of them, in various sizes. Most have space for two occupants, while some are massive and designated to be utilized as research centers.
A few simple wooden structures rest in the distance. These temporary buildings have been erected as far from the Oglan town as is possible, while still being close enough to the tent city to be practical. The soft hum of diesel generators emanates from these structures, and fills the air with their muffled resonance. The sounds of construction still echo through the air as teams continue to assemble more wooden buildings.
Emma’s frustration wanes as her thoughts drift to the shower and bathroom facilities that have yet to be upgraded. Walking amongst the tents, she notices that in high traffic areas, the low grass has already been worn down to reveal the ground. She makes a mental note to get these areas covered with either wood or gravel. She frowns at the cables that snake their way along the ground, and adds the construction of poles to her growing list.
Alliance (Terran Chronicles Book 4) Page 15