High Orbit: Kharak
LAUNCH
Tenth Hour, Ninth Day, Seventh Triad, Year 1221
The seven of them were the best pilots in the Fleet. There had been, understandably, enormous competition for a position in the Honor Guard. The dark rumors had been flying about who talked to whom and how much money had passed hands for weeks after the selection had finished. Of course, nothing of the sort had been done, but it made those not chosen feel better.
Even though the next few minutes would most likely be some of the most historical moments in history he was calm. Inside the darkened cockpit Damis sat strapped into his acceleration chair, concentrating on keeping his breathing deep and slow. In the blackness he held his hands steady over the controls. In the peaceful cockpit the only sound he could hear was the quiet, steady humming of the power generator.
He had turned the visual projector systems off to take a moment of rest. He reached over and turned off the Fleet communications channel, not caring at the moment what the other ships were doing. Right now, he needed the peace, because in a few minutes he would be very, very busy.
His screens flickered to life, overriding the shutoff command. He blinked his eyes, readjusting to the light as Fleet Communications, shortened to FleetCom by everyone, crackled to life.
It was Karan Sjet-sa, officially announcing the ready status of the Mothership.
"Fleet Command- online. Reporting Mothership pre-launch status. Command- online. Resourcing- online. Construction- online. Cryogenic subsections A through J- online. Cryogenic subsections K through S- online. Scaffold Control stand by for alignment."
But it was simply the start up procedure, which they had done countless of times
over the past few days under the direction of Fleet Command. The Scaffold began to rotate, bringing the Mothership 'upright', even though there was no such thing in space, and bringing Kharak into view from the hanger.
"Alignment confirmed. Stand by release control."
History was to be made when the Mothership launched.
He imagined he could almost hear the decoupling from the Scaffold, massive slabs of metal retracting, casting off the Mothership.
The launch bay's interior lights turned off, plunging the huge berth into darkness. At the far end of the bay the landing lights around the hanger entrance lit up, a gateway of light into the endless dark.
He couldn't hear the might fusion engines come online; he could certainly feel them. Still attached to the docking hooks, his fighter's internal dampers not online yet, the faint vibrations ran through the entire Mothership, from top to bottom, as the massive engine banks came to life, pushing the colossal ship slowly from its berth. He was in the middle of wondering why the Mothership's internal dampers weren't active when everything went still- obviously someone, somewhere, had had other things on their mind. He hoped the one responsible wasn't punished to severely.
SquadCom was, for the moment, tied in with FleetCom- the one that Command heard directly.
It was Zaim, arguably the best pilot who had ever existed in history, who spoke. His voice was strong and confident- doing justice to his position as Squadron Leader. "This is Squadron Leader. Honor Guard report ready status. Launch time in ten cycles- this is not a drill. I repeat; this is not a drill."
Leila was next. "Scout Alpha 1 is go."
Daleel, Leila's wingmate, followed her quickly. "Scout Alpha 2 is go."
Next were the two Paktu brothers, Sacha, in Scout Beta 1, and Sayad, in Scout Beta 2.
Finally it was his wing's turn. Emira, in the lead position, spoke first.
"Scout Gamma 1 is go."
Then it was his turn. Suddenly his mouth became as dry as the Great Desert itself. He swallowed quickly, suppressing the sudden fear that gripped him. He tilted his head ever so slightly to speak into the mic, making sure his voice picked up clearly and precisely, holding his voice in an iron control. "Scout Gamma 2 is go."
Zaim, following the rules to the letter, finished off. "Fleet Command, Honor Guard is reporting ready status and awaiting launch."
He'd launched so many times that he could do it in his sleep, but it was different this time. This time there was no going back, no room for error- not that he would have even considered it.
Karan's soft voice sounded in his headset, and his alone, as she continued to direct the rest of the launch. "I'm with you." He smiled at the comforting tone- she'd kept her promise.
It was strange hearing her speak multiple sentences at the same time- he wondered how she managed to keep her thoughts straight. Then he remembered- when you control a starship, requiring thousands, probably millions of decisions every second, something like carrying on multiple conversations at once would be a trivial matter. To say nothing of how she managed to actually speak.
Before he had any more time to ponder the impossibilities his tiny ship was flung from the hanger, the extreme forces pushing him back into his seat before the internal dampers came online, launched out into space by the huge accelerator mechanism.
The seven of them flew out in an arrowhead formation, appropriately enough named as the Scout's design had been designated the 'Arrow'. Zaim was leading at the tip, flying away from the Mothership as she moved stately away from the Scaffold, the colossal structure releasing her from its grip.
Being at the end of the starboard side of the formation, he came the closest to the Scaffold- less than a ship length- much too close for comfort. But he maintained his grip on the controls and effortlessly guided his ship past, keeping in precise formation, trusting his squad mates to provide him enough room. To do anything else was unthinkable.
The resource collector followed them, forming the center of the arrowhead, protected on either side by the Scouts.
And then Karan Sjet-sa's voice sounded across the ether. Every single channel, including the planet-side ones, fell silent. For a few brief seconds, the universe itself seemed to stand still as she spoke.
"The Mothership has cleared the Scaffold. We are away." Her somber, hauntingly beautiful and yet somehow detached voice echoed through his small cockpit. This was the woman who had given up everything- to save them all.
He could hear the cheering from those planet-side across the comm. system, so loud it was. Those on board the Mothership, while equally, if not more jubilant, had jobs to do and could not take the time to celebrate. There would be time for that later.
MEETING KARAN SJET-SA
He had seen her in person only three times.
The first time, which had been attended by the entire crew and watched by the millions planet-side, was at the somber and ritual bound ceremony where she formally accepted her position and was blessed in turn by the Elder from every kiith, ferried up to the Mothership for this unprecedented occasion.
The primary launch bay had served as a fitting location- the ceremony had taken place just as the Mothership was passing over the Great Desert- right over the wreck of the Khar-Toba. Damis didn't overlook the fact that it was also the only area on the entire ship in which the whole crew could fit; pilots, engineers, command staff- everyone.
The Elders had awaited her on a pedestal, backs to the open hanger. As she walked down the long pathway to the pedestal, not a single sound filled the air other than her light footsteps.
She had been dressed in the long flowing black and white ritual robes of Kiith Sjet. Her white and black dyed hair tumbled down her back, platted and curled locks seeming to move on their own accord when she walked. She radiated hope and joy.
Once the somber ceremonies had finished she made her speech. He could remember it word for word. She had begun with a dedication to her father, who had died only the week before. Humbly, causing much amusement among the older Elders, she reluctantly took up the mantel of Kiith-sa, clan leader.
It had been a speech full of passion and vigor before the cheering masses, many chanting her name- Karan Sjet-sa.
A few nights later she had called his squadron to her room. It was a few hours before she was to be grafted into the ship. Her room was nothing like the whispered rumors that circled around the crew. It was sparse and tiny, containing nothing more than a simple bed. Had he been anything other than a Scout pilot he would have been extremely cramped.
She wore the traditional Sjet kiith-sa dress, like the Elders living planet-side. It was a simple shawl, in the black and white colors of her kiith, clinging to her shoulders, the circles within circles symbol of Sjet embroidered on her shoulder.
As the door opened and the seven of them filed in, she had stood up from her sitting position on the bed. He stiffened, but at least managed not to gasp in horror, when his gaze came to rest on her head and noticed her hair- or lack of. She had been shaved completely bald- not a single strand left. For a Kharakan to shave their head…
Her eyes were as bright a blue as the sky over the Great Desert itself. Staring into her eyes, he felt transfixed. He thought he saw a faint flicker of emotion at the bottom of their expressionless depths, but he couldn't be sure. She removed her gaze from him.
When she moved her gaze from him he suddenly felt weak and dizzy, shaken to the core. It was as if she had seen through him, as though his whole being had been opened to her viewing. Never before had he seen anyone with the same look in his or her eyes- the calm acceptance of an ultimate sacrifice.
Then she spoke. Her voice was quiet and steady, her words precise and clear, speaking with complete and utter confidence in herself.
"Pilots, I thank you for coming on short notice. Fear not, I shall not keep you for long- I know you are very busy." Her gaze passed over them again, coming to rest again on Damis. He shifted, now slightly nervous, under her stare. "We suspected, but we never knew for sure- however the recent simulations have shown that I," her voice caught for the briefest of moments, "will not be able to handle all aspects of our journey." She closed her eyes for a moment.
"Which is why I bring you hear now. There are many differing theories on how we should best protect ourselves. Such as the theory put forth by Admiral Riif-Sa." At his name the seven members of the squadron muttered angrily under their breath. Karen let them grumble.
She whispered softly, shifting her gaze from face to face. "What I say next must not go beyond these walls. Do I have your word?" The seven nodded as one. A small smile appeared on her lips. "Thank you. Admiral Riif-Sa believes that we should give more importance to larger ships. What you do not know is that he wants to completely replace the smaller craft with larger ships- things that would be of no use but for war. I don't want that. This mission is one of peace, of exploration- not one of violence."
She continued on, her voice, louder now, filling the stunned silence.
"Riif-Sa commands great respect and indeed, deserves it, for he is a brilliant man- but he is also arrogant." She smiled faintly at their astounded stares before explaining herself. "I am not part of the military, neither in my mind nor in my heart. I am outside your hierarchy, and carry no title. I hold no official power." She continued on after a moment.
"You follow the orders of your superiors- men and women such as the Admiral. We are on a mission of faith, of hope- of dreams. I would be naive in the extreme if I said that there were no hostile species out there. But remember that this mission is, first and foremost, a mission of peace. I have prayed every night that we shall not require the expertise of men such as Riif-Sa." She paused and took a breath.
"And so unless the strike craft are unable to perform their job, Riif-Sa shall not get his wish." She rested her gaze on Zaim.
"You are the first generation of Kharaks to fly armed starships, ships designed for combat." She raised her hand as the seven began protesting, her voice rising for the first time. "Yes, you are piloting ships that shall serve as exploration craft first, and yes, we may eventually be producing true strike craft."
Her blue eyes became hard and sharp. "But up until that point it shall be you, and you alone. You seven are the ones who shall lead our warriors into battle, who will be our only line of defense." She stopped suddenly and bowed her head, closing her eyes. Silence descended on the tiny room. When she looked up again her eyes were unfocused, staring through them, past the walls, out into space. In the silence her voice was barely audibly.
"My only defense."
Before any of them could say anything her eyes refocused, her gaze shifting from face to face, saying nothing, simply staring, ending with Damis. Then she turned around, facing the bed, and bowed her head, her body trembling. Her wavering whisper was filled with barely suppressed emotion.
"Please- I must be alone."
The seven left without another word, Damis Sjet quietly shutting the door. When the door clicked shut Karan Sjet-sa fell to the floor, weeping silently.
COMING ONLINE
Second Hour, Twenty-Ninth Day, Sixth Triad, Year 1221
She awoke into insanity. For a single moment in time she was everywhere at once- seeing everything, hearing everything, feeling everything, knowing everything. Yet for one brief instant in time she was in control. But then the force of it overwhelmed her and her mind, unable to cope, shut down.
The nothingness returned.
Time had no meaning.
She awoke again, this time into complete and total blackness. She wasn't sure how long it was until she realized that she was awake- so subtle where the differences between the nothingness and her present state.
It was fear that convinced her that she was awake. It had its icy talons clenched around her mind, her subconscious unable to forget the utter helplessness. Then she realized with horror that she couldn't see, couldn't even hear. Desperately she tried moving her legs, her arms, anything at all. Nothing worked.
Slowly it dawned on her that she couldn't even feel them- it was as if they weren't there, even though she knew they must be. She began to panic. Some part of her mind, distanced away from the sections that were slowly giving into despair, came to the strange conclusion that perhaps she had died. But that didn't make any sense- she was still thinking. She couldn't be thinking if she was dead, could she?
So she thought hard, harder than she ever had before. She ignored the terror of what her physical self was telling her, or more to the point not telling her, and concentrated wholly on remembering, remembering anything at all.
Eventually, after what seemed like eternity, she remembered who she was.
Her name was Karan Sjet.
Once she remembered that, the little details and snatches of memory slowly started coming back faster. She was the daughter of Huur Sjet-sa. She was a neuroscientist, a very good one. Memories and details came flooding back in a rush. She knew where we she was; on board the Mothership. She was-
Her thoughts froze as the staggering conclusion dawned on her.
It worked; it must have worked- the neural shunts actually worked. She must be connected by a direct neural interface into the Mothership. For all intense and purposes, she was the Mothership. For an instant she experienced a moment of pure rapture. Everything she had worked for over the past five years had finally come to fruitarian.
And then the terrible realization dawned on her. She remembered waking into the nightmare of total, uncontrollable chaos, remembering her complete and utter helplessness. She must have awoken in full command of the ship, input pouring in from every single sensor the ship- herself, she corrected- possessed.
Yet somehow she would have to make sense of it.
Despair and grief almost overwhelmed her. Her structured and ordered mind had been thrown into disarray by recent events- she could feel herself losing control, part of her wanting to give in. How long she balanced on the edge of insanity she did not know.
But eventually she had marshaled her will and slowly, ever so slowly, regained control. She took time trying to put events into order, staring with her flight up to the Scaffold, then a few hours later, her sedation and slow slip into darkness. Then she prepared herself. For what, she was unsure of; she simply knew that she must be as well prepared as she could.
Later, once the incident was long past and she dared dwell on it, all she could remember was that, for a few brief moments, she had gone insane. When she had subconsciously reopened the neural link the sheer amount of information was overwhelming. It was more than enough to cause her mind to sever the link, as had happened the first time.
And yet she hadn't severed the link- somehow she had persevered.
The med techs that worked with her theorized that the difference the second time might have been because her mind had already undergone the utter flood of information and had not been caught totally unprepared.
When she was alone again she came to the bitter conclusion that, for the first time in her life, science could not explain everything.
Sometimes things must simply be accepted.
MEETING
Fifth Hour, Ninth Day, Seventh Triad, Year 1221
It was five hours away from the historical launch and he couldn't sleep. He had spent an hour in the hanger bay, sitting silently in his cockpit, eyes closed, hands resting lightly on the controls, balancing on the edge between waking and dreaming. And yet he could not slip past the barrier into unconsciousness.
After that he had wandered through the endless halls for some time before he had found himself on the bridge, watching the third shift sitting at their stations. Not a single member of the bridge looked up as he entered, everyone so focused on final preparations. After a few minutes of seeing nothing of great interest he left, heading back towards his cabin, on the chance that he might get some sleep.
He was riding down the lift when she spoke to him.
"Honor Guard Scout Pilot Damis Sjet, would you come to the Core?"
He was stunned. It took him a moment to recognize the voice, slightly warped and metallic- but it was definitely Sjet-sa. He was shocked into silence for a moment that she would deign to speak with him, before he recovered his manners and started to speak back- to the empty lift. He stopped mid-sentence, feeling foolish talking to the empty walls.
He would have shaved his head had he been wrong, but he was certain she laughed.
"Worry not, I can hear you." Her calm and serene voice filled the small space, filled his ears, filled his mind. He made no mention of it, but he was sure he had heard something behind her light, almost playful tone, something darker- almost forlorn.
Pushing his thoughts aside he managed to overcome his embarrassment and replied guardedly but respectfully.
"Sjet-sa, are you sure its safe? The technicians-"
She cut him off, her voice suddenly vicious and scornful, angry static somehow seeping in, snapping and popping. "They know nothing! It was I who designed the system, it was I who tested it, and it is I who am subject to it! They run their tests, their simulations- all for nothing!"
She fell silent, her voice under control again when she spoke. "I used to be one of them- one of those who must have a logical explanation for everything." She was silent for a moment. "But I learned. There are some things that instruments cannot show, that calculations cannot reveal. There are things that only I know- things that I cannot explain, even if I tried. But I know that there is no harm in this. You may come."
A few minutes later he found himself standing in front of the steel doors that lead to the Core. In a few hours the med techs would seal it, joining it to the rest of the ship- and probably making it impossible to remove without taking part of the ship with it.
Sjet-sa would truly become part of the ship.
But for now it was still possible to move in and out. He heard a faint hiss and the massive slabs of metal began to open ponderously, like a great beast opening its maw wide. Before the doors had opened completely he had stepped past them and into the Core.
Light from the hallway shone through the open entrance- but then the doors shut, plunging the room into darkness. It was so dark that he couldn't see the walls or the ceiling; the floor was the faintest of outlines.
But the center of the room was lit up- like a star in the blackness of space, casting its light outwards, pushing back against the darkness. And inside the light was Karan Sjet-sa. He stepped forward until he was inside the small pool of light; almost close enough to touch her.
Lights shone from overhead casting long shadows, every detail in her figure revealed.
He'd heard the stories of course, as had everyone else. Some said that such thing a thing as a neural link was impossible- that the whole thing was simply to consolidate power. They said that Kiith Sjet had in fact developed an AI sophisticated enough for the project's purpose and the kiith was simply using Karan Sjet as a front for their personal agenda, that it was a high sophisticated computer that they had placed their trust in- not a living, breathing, thinking person.
On the other end, some of the more creative rumors had said that the 'Karan Sjet Solution', as it had been dubbed, involved technicians simply extracting a brain and connecting it to its own life support system, leaving the body to wither away.
He'd laughed all of them when he'd heard the stories, because that's what they had been- stories.
Now as he stared at the figure before him he wondered who was more correct.
She was suspended in midair. A metal ring, a sophisticated anti-grav generator from the symbols on it, ran around her at waist level, keeping her positioned upright in the center of the ring. Hanging just overhead in a ring were a group of screens all facing outwards; all displaying data. One of them caught his eye- a white line steadily scrolling across in an S curve, labeled as Neural Integrity.
He didn't like the sound of that.
There were lights as well; shining down from above, wrapping her in a halo of light.
Wires and tubes snaked in from the darkness and coiled around her, wrapping her body in their cold embrace. He shuddered as the image of a taftaar, one of Kharak's more insidious and larger parasites, came unbidden to his mind. The parallels were too much for him to ignore. And also like the taftaar, all the wires inevitably burrowed into her.
Her formal shawl had been replaced by a skintight body suit, again white, but this time there was no symbol present- for she no longer belonged to a single kiith. Some of the wires and tubes ran under the fabric, pressed between it and her body, giving the disquieting image of a taftaar victim.
Her head was bowed down slightly; hands limp by her side, eyes closed. He wondered if she was dead.
She got her hair back, he thought, before he realized with horror that it was not what he though. He shuddered in revulsion when he looked closer and saw that the back of her head had countless wires protruding from it, the light glinting off each tiny strand of metal like hair.
He was so engaged with staring at her that he did not notice her eyes open. He stepped back in shock when she raised her head up slightly, enough to stare down at him, the wires around her shifting.
At least her face was untouched. But there was no emotion of any kind, as though she had forgotten how- it was as if her face had been carved from stone. The two of them stared at each other for a long time in silence, her brilliant blue eyes meeting his gleaming black. She didn't blink once.
He tried to match her unblinking stare, keeping his eyes open until they watered, but he couldn't. He was trying to keep his gaze focused on her face, trying to ignore the terrible machinery around her, but the bright lights illuminated everything in all their hideous glory.
His eyes drifted first to the wires on the edge of the light. From there he followed them inwards until they coiled around her, some disappearing under the fabric, causing it to bulge out, while others swiftly fed into her, many wrapping around her.
It took an act of will to drag his eyes away from the seemingly endless tangle of wires. Their gazes locked once again and she spoke. Her voice echoed around the room, but her lips, her mouth, never moved. He shivered at the detached and haunted, but undeniably beautiful, sound.
"Karan Sjet-sa is no more." Something in her eyes flickered, causing him to flinch backwards. The voice continued as though it didn't notice. "Her once frail body is gone, replaced by this- construct of metal and synthetics."
As she spoke something at the corner of his eye caught his attention. Damis watched, fascinated and sickened at the same time, as a milky white fluid slowly made its way through a tube to eventually feed straight into her arm. He closed his eyes, unable to prevent the shudder that ran through him.
When he opened his eyes again she was still staring at him with her unblinking gaze.
He licked his lips as he spoke. "Where is she then?"
For the briefest of moments the distant tone left her voice, returning it to what it once was, melodious and light. "I am still here Damis." He could have sworn there was a hint of laughter in her voice.
But then her voice turned solemn again. "But I am more than Karan Sjet-sa. I am the miirharozt, the Mothership." Her voice dropped to whisper, unconcealed sorrow mixed with joy flooding her words. "Everything- I can see and hear and feel- everything."
At her words, at the deep pain in her voice, an overpowering sense of guilt washed over him. Though he had no idea, guessed that he probably could not comprehend what she was truly feeling- something in him stirred. Tears formed in his eyes, grief gripped his heart. Standing before him, amid the machinery, amid the wires and the tubes was a woman who had given up everything, her body, her mind- her very soul.
And he had been treating her like a monster.
Before he knew what he was doing Damis was on the floor in front of her, kneeling, his head bowed low, hands lowered in supplication, voice intoning soft prayers of forgiveness.
She cut him off before he progressed far, her metallic tinged voice ringing with self-deprecation and slight annoyance.
"Get up. Do not abase yourself for me. I am unworthy of it- this, all of this, is my doing. I was the one who chose to split my body open, to feed myself from these tubes, to transform into this- this thing, you see before you."
She spoke softly, an almost pleading tone slipping into her voice.
"Look at me. Look at what I've become."
Slowly, unsteadily, almost fearfully, Damis raised his head. And when he stared into her eyes it was as though he saw her for the first time. A single tear rolled down her face, taking eternity to trail down to her cheek. In her eyes he no longer saw a cold, calculating, thinking machine/woman- he saw a little girl, alone and terrified, trapped in a nightmare.
Damis wasn't sure why he did, but he stood up and stepped forward so that he was within touching distance. Then he knew- this was why he had come here. To comfort the one who could not be comforted.
Time seemed to stop as he reached a hand out to touch her. Her skin was ice cold, as cold as the metal that surrounded her. He barely felt the sting of the biting cold as he wiped the tear away away, fingers gently brushing her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers.
How long he stood like that, fingers barely touching her, he did not know. Time ceased to exist- the entire universe ceased to exist. It was simply the two of them, joined by his touch.
His hand dropped away and he stepped backward to the edge of the light. For the first time he realized how cold it was in the room. He looked up, staring at the screens, beginning to shiver. He shivered even more when he saw one of the screens displaying the temperature. The room was almost as cold as it was during nighttime out in the Great Desert.
She spoke, her voice a fearful whisper.
"Damis, I'm scared."
He had no immediate reply, still uncertain of what had just transpired. His eyes dropped back down to her face, meeting her unblinking blue eyes.
After a while he whispered back, a small, sad smile on his face.
"I guess so am I. I'm scared I'll fail- fail my squadron, fail my people." He was silent for a moment. "Fail you."
She whispered back. "You won't. I know you won't."
"How do you know?"
"Trust in me. You won't. I won't let you."
With her soft-spoken words she closed her eyes and her head slowly sunk down again to its original position, wires softly straining.
"You must go now- my Time it is nearing. Sajuuk watch over you. Know I will be with you."
He turned without a word and walked quietly towards the slowly opening door. Without a backwards glance he stepped through the doorway and into the hallway. He glanced back only when he heard the doors softly slide together.
He made his way back to his cabin and lay down on his small bunk. In moments he was asleep. He didn't dream.
DISCUSSIONS OF POWER
First Hour, Tenth Day, Seventh Triad, Year 1221
They had spent the rest of the shift performing last minute combat trials and exercises, for no other reason that there was little else to do. They were the Honor Guard, and as such, it was their duty not only to perform immaculately and to the very letter of the rules, but also to set a perfect example for the others.
The other squadron of Scouts, there was only one, had made a brief appearance, but then their Commander had found something better to do- something involving them docking and gathering in the galley- not to mention finding bottles of ale. But no one minded, the Admirals included, because there was no danger. The sensor net was scanning out as far as it could, giving them amble of warning.
So it was that for a brief period of time, it was simply the seven of them, wandering the blackness of space, away from the Mothership, the seven of them alone together, flying together silence.
His wing mate, Emira, broke the silence, speaking over the SquadCom, her quiet voice filled with wonder.
"I still can't believe it. I mean- it just doesn't seem real. Could this all be a dream?"
The two Paktu brothers laughed and then spoke, as they always did, in turns. He was sure he wasn't the only one who found it more than slightly disturbing that the twins somehow seemed to be able to read each other's thoughts.
Sacha was first, "If it is then-"
Sayad continued for him, "we're all dreaming-"
Sacha finished, "the same one as you."
Emira laughed at the pair, who never failed to draw a smile from anyone with their jokes, banter and general cheerfulness. The two were nearly impossible to tell apart, and even harder to separate. Their favorite saying, in times of peril, or simply for the sake of revelry, was their kiith's motto- "I can smell the sea." which they believed in so strongly that they had it tattooed onto their arms.
After that, the squadron began laughing and joking together, eventually managing to draw a laugh even from the stolid Zaim.
After they had docked, he learnt that Research had finally finished their designs for the new Interceptor, a strike craft designed specifically for combat. Hopefully this was to be the final design. Already they had tried four prototypes. All had been increasingly spectacular failures, the last two simply exploding when the plasma ducks had burned through the magnetic couplings.
He wondered whose genius it was that had solved the problem.
Admiral Riif-sa was frustrated, more so than usual. Not less than an hour ago he had been handed a report on the success of the new Interceptor, designated the Blade Mark.5.
And it had performed flawlessly in every single one of its initial trials.
What irked him the most about the whole incident were the events leading up to it. That a lone technician and a test pilot had completely ignored his explicated orders and had, somehow in a single shift, redesigned the craft, stripping it of its wings and bonding them to the hull! The result was so successful that everyone, including the other Admirals, had seemingly forgotten about the disobedience.
Except him.
And so here he was, sitting in his cabin at his desk. He lowered his head onto the smooth metal surface, covering his ears with his hands, and wondering aloud how in Sajuuk's name he was going to solve the issue.
Unbidden, the answer was supplied for him.
"Don't bother Admiral. There are more important matters to attend to." He growled. He didn't want anyone's advice, least of all Karan- but she gave it anyways. As she spoke he reached absently moved his hand towards his display, mumbling "not now", and hit the button that would shut the comm. link down, silencing her.
Nothing happened. She went so far as to override his attempts at shutting down the comm. channel in his cabin. When that failed he resigned himself to protesting angrily-, which of course, she ignored.
"All that matters is that we now have a strike craft designed for combat. And it's your job to use it to its utmost ability." She fell silent. A full minute later it dawned on him. He raised his head from his hands and looked about the cabin in wonder, as though searching for something.
His voice, filled with disbelief, echoed around the cabin. "It was you wasn't it? You let them into the test bay- there's simply no other way for two men to finish such a redesign in a single shift. It was you!"
He could have sworn she was laughing as she replied. "Sometimes it simply takes a woman's touch."
He stood up angrily, slamming his hands down on the desk. He'd been made a fool, an Admiral of the Fleet- by a mere woman! He would not stand for this!
His voice bellowed in anger, hands clenching and unclenching by his side.
"I will not stand for this. You allowed an unauthorized and unsupervised redesign of a prototype without the express permission of the Research division. But its even worse than that- you helped them! You even admit it yourself! Do you realize you are in open defiance of an Admiral? Why, I could have you-"
"Have me what Admiral?" She cut him off, her voice a hybrid of barely controlled rage, pops of static, and machine-like detachment. "What would you do? Throw me in the brig? Send me back to Kharak?"
She went silent, her words echoing around the room.
When she spoke again her voice was under control, the static silenced. It was replaced by cold, brittle rage that all but froze the air from her wintry voice.
"You forget your place Riif-sa. I am Fleet Command- not you. You follow my orders now. You advise me- you do not tell me. You may raise complaints and even question my orders- so long as you do it in a reasonable manner. But you will never threaten me. By rights I should throw you in the brig for disrespect and the threatening a superior."
She fell silent. When she spoke again the rage gone, her tone rueful. "But you are too valuable an asset."
Riif-sa stood in silence behind his desk, taking the withering lecture with his chin up, hands crossed military style. When she finished he nodded, his face emotionless, lip curled the slightest bit to show her that he still didn't respect her authority.
She obviously noticed. "Admiral Riif-sa," she asked softly, a hint of annoyance in her voice, making very sure to stress his title, "do you remember the reason as to why four Admirals were chosen for this mission?" His blood ran cold. She wouldn't, she simply wouldn't- but he knew that she was well within her right if she so chose.
"The reason, Admiral," again stressing his title, "was two fold. Firstly, it gives four separate opinions- five including mine. Thus, there will always be a majority."
"I may be in complete control, but unless it is absolutely required, I will not make every single decision, especially tactical ones, if I don't have to. I treat each and every member of the crew, my crew, with equal respect. From the lowest engineer, to yourself and your colleagues, I play no favorites."
Admiral Riff-sa began to speak but she overrode him.
"There are four Admirals on this voyage- but it is not a necessity. If need be, we can make due with less."
She had said it- the rest would be easier.
"With your position and influence, I will be forced to deal with you on a regular basis. Thus, it would be beneficial to all involved if we treated each other with at least a token of respect."
She noticed with vague amusement that he didn't bother trying to speak as she continued, her tone becoming more serious.
"But know this Riff-sa. You set an example for the entire crew. If you are not able to lead them with the dignity that your position dictates then I must regretfully ask you to step down."
Had it not been such a serious occasion, she might have laughed. His face drained of color as his hands alternating between clenching and unclenching. He opened his mouth as though to speak but closed it again.
"Simply answer the question Admiral- will you be able to treat your superiors, your equals, and more importantly, your lesser, with all due respect? Or is it asking too much? Yes or no Admiral, make your choice."
While it was of utmost importance that he understood his place, it was regretful that she had to threaten him like this. Threats never created trust. And she would need everyone's trust in the coming months. Need it badly, she suspected.
The Admiral's mouth worked itself a few more times, air moving in and out, before he managed to gasp an answer.
His normally deep and steady voice cracked. "I am."
"Thank you." She replied in a relived tone. Whether or not he believed the sincerity in it, she didn't know. All that mattered to her at the moment was that he performed his duty. She left as quickly as she had come, in the space of a thought, leaving him to pace the room alone.
EXIT
A day later the Interceptor trials were complete, the ship performing flawlessly. The Mothership's crew gave quick goodbyes to their loved ones still down on Kharak. There was no need for any extended ceremonies- they would be back within days. Celebrations on a successful test of the Hyperspace Core would wait until the Mothership returned.
Karan's was the last voice to be heard over FleetCom by those on Kharak before the might vessel disappeared into the ether.
"Stand by to begin Hyperspace test. Internal pressure doors sealed. Abort systems standing by. Hyperspace entry in- five seconds."
For a few brief seconds the ship hung in space, the blue gate on one side, leading into the unknown, Kharak and the Scaffold, home, on the other. And then, the Gate swallowed the ship, flinging it across the system.
A lone, short burst of static traveled across the fading comm. line from the Mothership to land planet-side just as the ship, and the line, disappeared.
It was audio only, obviously intended for an individual, but it was picked up accidentally by the orbital satellite network and broadcasted planet-wide. Five simple words; spoken by an unknown woman to a close friend, a lover, a sister, a parent.
"May Sajuuk watch over you."