Space.
It’s really big. Like really, unbelievably, super-duper huge. I can comprehend how big it is ‘cause I’m good at all that science crap. (I would never admit it, but sometimes it helps being the clone of a brilliant scientist. Even one as messed up as Naya Kestren.)
What was I saying again? Oh, right. Space is big. How big, you ask? Take whatever size you’re thinking of and double it. Now triple that. Now multiply that by about a thousand, then add a few zeroes to the end for good measure. Yeah, it’s that big. Pretty impressive, right?
Now imagine you have to find—and get to—a certain place somewhere in that massive, mostly-empty void. That’s my job. I’m a Navigator aboard the Oracle heavy cruiser
Spitfire. (Don’t ask why they named it that, I have no idea. All I know is that it’s a pretty badass ship. One of the newest, strongest warships in the Oracle fleet.)
I’ve been serving on the bridge of the
Spitfire for the past cycle. It’s one of those tough-but-rewarding jobs. You know, the kind that gives you “life experience” and all that other nonsense. Plus I’m friends with the captain—sorry, make that
admiral—so it’s not all bad.
To be honest, though, I never saw myself as a Navy girl. I prefer dealing with problems up close and personal. Ideally, with a photon blade in each hand. But after the war, the government instituted a new policy: mandatory two-year naval service for all able-bodied persons. I’m a person, and I’m definitely able-bodied, so… here I am, I guess.
Anyway, we’re currently in the Solventi star system because—
“Lieutenant.”
Ahem. As I was saying, we’re in the Solventi System because Naval Command received some intel that—
“Lieutenant Akasha.”
I glared daggers at the Newman sitting across from me. “What? You’re interrupting my monologue here.”
He looked confused, like I had just asked him to sprout wings and fly. “I didn’t hear you talking,” he replied.
Whoops. This has all been in my head, hasn’t it? I probably sounded like a crazy person just then. Time to smooth things over. I said, “Uh, it was a joke. Duh.”
The blue-haired man frowned. “I don’t get it.”
“Look, Commander Serious,” I responded curtly, “I’m sorry if my humor is too sophisticated for you, but I promise it was one hell of a zinger.”
He didn’t like that, not one bit. I could tell by the way the fur on his Lillipan ears bristled. I couldn’t see his tail, but I bet it was puffed out like a cotton ball.
…I should probably stop and explain that last remark, huh? See, up until a few cycles ago, Oracle was at war with the Lillipan Empire, a war that lasted nearly a century. The fighting was fierce and bloody and endless. It was fought in over a dozen sectors spanning from the Rallus Cluster to the edge of the Rift. Millions were killed. Entire star systems were ravaged.
Twice they thought it was over, but twice they were wrong. Some incident would reignite tensions and the war would start all over again. It went on for so long, it got to the point that people forgot why they were fighting the Lillipans in the first place.
Actually, before the war, the two societies were very close. Really,
really close, if you know what I mean. By the time the Third Great Lillipan War broke out, there was so much inter-species breeding going on, some people didn’t even know which side they were supposed to be fighting for. Family lines got blurred so much that the need for conflict pretty much died out. By the time the war ended—for good this time—over eighty percent of humans and Newmans in Oracle were at least some part Lillipan.
Myself included, of course.
These days people like having the big furry ears. They’re a status symbol, I guess. A way of saying, “Hey, we’re the wave of the future. You can’t stop us, so you might as well join us!” (Plus they’re cute as hell, am I right?) Even CASTs are getting synthetic “ear implants” so they won’t feel left out. In a few more cycles, I bet—
“The name is
Sitrius. Lieutenant Commander Sitrius,” growled the blue-haired jerk, totally interrupting my train of thought. “As your superior officer, you might try saying it correctly one of these days.”
At least I think that’s what he said. I wasn’t really paying attention. “I’ll think about it,” I answered, with no real intention of doing so.
He glowered back at me but didn’t reply. Just then I heard the door behind me hiss open and someone barked, “Admiral on the bridge!”
Everyone in the room swiftly came to attention. Everyone, that is, except for me. I spun around with a big dumb grin on my face and waved. “Hey, Kira!” I called out, with no regard for subtlety.
The tiny redheaded woman marched down the center of the room, her Lillipan ears bobbing up and down with each step. As usual, her crimson-and-gold uniform was freakin’ spotless. (I have no idea how she keeps it so clean. Does she dry clean it every night?)
When she reached the Navigation station, she stopped. “I know we’re friends and all, but call me ‘Admiral’ when we’re on the bridge,” she hissed at me without even making eye contact. I thought that was a little rude, but it didn’t bother me. I understood. Kira has a certain image to maintain. This is her ship. These are her people. She has to project the illusion of dignity, fairness, and all the other crap that comes with the job.
I jumped out of my chair and snapped a quick salute. “Yes, ma’am! Admiral Vorholtz, ma’am!” I exclaimed, adding a playful wink at the end for good measure.
Kira rolled her eyes and asked, “Current status?”
Commander Serious—I mean
Sitrius—stepped forward and clicked his heels together, his back straight as a rod. (What a boot-licker!) “We’ve arrived in the Solventi System, Admiral,” he reported. “Approaching the derelict now.”
Kira clasped her hands behind her back. “Very good, Commander. Lieutenant Kasha, slow us to one-quarter speed and guide us in.”
I sat back down and hit a bunch of random keys on the display in front of me. Seriously, I have no idea what I pushed. Whatever it was must’ve been right, though, because the
Spitfire slowed and an image of our target appeared on the viewscreen lining the front wall. Everybody
ooh-ed and
aah-ed when they saw it.
I have to admit, it was a pretty impressive sight: a completely intact Lillipan warship left over from the last war. The Empire abandoned it and left it here adrift in space. Our job, naturally, was to salvage what we could and destroy the rest. (Can’t leave something like that around for just
anybody to steal, right?)
The closer we got, the bigger it looked. Pretty soon the ship filled most of the viewscreen. Up close it looked even more impressive. During the war, the Lillipans built space cruisers that rivaled and even surpassed the best that Oracle could muster. They had the edge in size and sheer firepower. We had the edge in technology, but they were quick learners. They adapted fast. This derelict warship was proof of that. Even after all this time, it was still in good shape.
A sensor scan showed it had all the essentials: power, oxygen, artificial gravity. “Prepare a boarding party,” said Kira. “We’ve got work to do.”
Like the diligent lapdog he is, Sitrius commed the head of the boarding party and told her to be ready in three minutes. She acknowledged the order and the line clicked off.
Unfortunately they never got those three minutes, because right then a new blip appeared on the sensors. It was practically on top of us! Alarms started blaring across the bridge. Red lights started flashing. People instantly scrambled to respond.
I pressed a random button and the new arrival appeared on the main screen. It was a big ship. Not as big as the
Spitfire, but no laughing matter either. A mid-sized warship, let’s say.
There was a beep at the console next to mine. The communications officer sitting there said, “Admiral, they’re hailing us.”
Kira chewed over that piece of information for a minute. Then she replied, “Alright, put it onscreen. Let’s see what they want.”
The screen changed from an image of the ship to one inside its bridge. There were only two people in view, but both looked like a royal pain in the ass. I could tell the moment I saw them. The one reclining in the captain’s chair was a little girl probably no older than eight or nine. She had tan skin, lavender eyes, and long dark hair pulled back into two thick ponytails. I should probably also mention the pompous, over-the-top outfit she was wearing. (I mean c’mon, it had shoulder pads
and frills. Who the hell wears shoulder pads and frills at the same time? Everybody knows you go with one or the other, not both.) If that weren’t enough, there was a ridiculous feathered pirate hat resting on top of her head.
The little girl looked at the camera and exclaimed, a little too smugly, “Well shiver me timbers! Lookie what we have here. A ship full of scurvy space dogs, that’s what!”
If it were up to me, I would’ve ripped the brat a new one. But Kira didn’t take the bait. She stood there, calm as ever, hands still clasped behind her back, and said, “This is Admiral Kira Vorholtz of the Oracle star cruiser
Spitfire. To whom am I speaking?”
The kid grinned. “The name’s Isabel Malloch, but ye can call me Cap’n Izzy. This hearty lass here’s my first mate, Rho.”
She hooked a thumb at the Caseal standing beside her. The other woman was… How shall I put this? Oh, I know:
Red. Red hair, shiny red armor, red metallic eye patch covering one eye. Oh yeah, and she had a big, punchable smirk on her face, too.
Kira didn’t look pleased. She said, “I don’t know what business you have here, but the Oracle Navy has claimed salvage rights to this vessel. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
The kid turned to address her first mate. “Didja hear that, Rho? These rotten scallywags want us to
leave!” She sounded surprised, but in a sarcastic, over-the-top kind of way. The kind that usually spells trouble.
Rho turned to Izzy and replied, “Well that’s very rude of ‘em. This here’s neutral space. Oracle ain’t got no claim in these parts.”
“You heard her,” Izzy told Kira. “We want that Lillipan cruiser. It’s our bounty—a literal treasure trove o’ goodies, and you know how much we pirates love treasure. That means we ain’t goin’ nowhere. In fact, I’m thinking we should make
you leave instead.”
Kira planted her hands on her hips like a total boss and said, “You and what navy?”
Oh man, I got
shivers hearing that. Kira can be a real badass when she wants to be. (I guess that’s why she’s the admiral, huh!)
The girl wasn’t intimidated, though. She snickered and said, “How ‘bout this one?”
Right on cue, a dozen warp gates opened all around us and a dozen enemy ships emerged from the void. Now it was us versus an entire pirate fleet!
“Go home to your mommy, kid,” said Kira, not impressed by the show of force. “I think it’s past your bedtime. You can play pirate some other day.”
Izzy hopped out of her chair and got real close to the camera. “I’ll have ye know, I’m the roughest, toughest pirate this side of the Korvaan Nebula. Don’t believe me? Guess I’ll have to give you and yer crew a good, hard spanking!”
The video line cut off abruptly. In its place, the viewscreen returned to a shot of the lead pirate ship—just in time to watch it open fire! Photon blasts came flying at us from all directions, from all twelve enemy ships. The entire fleet was attacking us at once.
“Full power to the shields!” Kira shouted. “Return fire!”
I nearly fell out of my chair as the first volley hit. The shields absorbed most of the impact, but not all of it. We were shaken around like the contents of a mixed drink.
“Fire missiles!” Kira ordered.
“Aye aye, ma’am!” replied the weapons officer.
“We got one of the enemy ships!” the sensor analyst behind me announced.
The bridge rocked again. We were being pounded mercilessly by the pirate ships. Luckily, our shields were holding for the moment.
“Keep firing missiles!” Kira ordered.
“We’re out of missiles, Admiral!”
“Then fire the Super Missiles!”
“Firing Super Missiles, Admiral!”
The bridge shook a third time. Shield strength was falling.
“Keep firing!” Kira demanded.
“We’ve depleted our Super Missiles!”
“Then fire the Death Ray!”
I frowned. Death Ray? Since when did we have—
“Firing Death Ray, Admiral!”
On the main screen, three more pirate ships blew apart under our constant barrage. They erupted like fireworks against the inky backdrop of space.
“The Death Ray is out of juice!” cried a panicked weapons officer.
Kira gritted her teeth. “I didn’t want to use this so soon, but it looks like we have no choice. It’s time to unleash our ultimate weapon. Activate… the Pirate Blower-Upper Gun!”
The viewscreen changed to an exterior camera shot of the
Spitfire, where a section of hull opened to reveal a giant cannon barrel inside. The cannon slid forward on a motorized track until it was fully extended. I could see the letters “P.B.U.G.” printed in big letters on the side.
Kira shouted, “Fire! Fire! Fire!”
A bunch of energy built up inside the barrel. With a flash, a beam of energy shot out and struck the nearest pirate ship. I had to look away for a few seconds because the brightness was super intense. It was practically blinding. By the time it faded, the enemy vessel had been blown into a thousand pieces. (Looks like the name “Pirate Blower-Upper Gun” is pretty spot-on, huh?)
The giant cannon fired again, then again. One pirate ship was destroyed instantly, the other was merely grazed. The second ship must have lost its navigation controls because it started spiraling out of control—directly towards us!
“Shoot that ship down—now!” Kira ordered. She stabbed an emphatic finger in its general direction.
The P.B.U.G. started charging up again, but by then it was too late. The enemy ship plowed right into us.
Kablooie! The explosion overloaded our shields and completely pulverized the P.B.U.G.
Not good. Without shields we were completely exposed, an easy target for the remaining pirates. Every shot they fired ripped pieces from our hull. The bridge shook wildly. Sparks were flying, alarms were blaring, people were yelling. It was pandemonium. Pandemonium, I tell you!
The next big hit knocked Kira off her feet. She basically kissed the metal deck plate face-first. (Ouch!) When she got back up, I could see a trail of blood dripping down her forehead. I wanted to rush over and heal her with my Techniques, but I never got the chance. Right at that moment Sitrius shouted, “Hull integrity failing, Admiral! The
Spitfire won’t last much longer!”
Kira turned to me of all people and yelled rather urgently, “Kasha! Get us out of here—now!”
We were running away? From a bunch of lowly pirates? I didn’t like it, but I decided not to argue. Kira’s the admiral. She usually knows what’s best.
“Uh, right,” I replied, fumbling with my console. “Where to?”
“The Argellus Lochram System, on the double!”
Argellus Lochram? Why did that name sound so familiar? I could’ve sworn I heard it somewhere before, but I couldn’t quite place it…
“Hurry, Kasha! We don’t have much time!”
“On it,” I said. I plotted the course as fast as I could. The system turned out to be pretty close to our current position, though there didn’t seem to be much there. Just a cluster of rocks orbiting a solitary star. Was Kira planning on hiding in the asteroid belt while we repaired the ship?
Another tremor rocked the
Spitfire. The constant alarms somehow managed to get even louder and more urgent-sounding. A tactical display on the far wall exploded in a shower of sparks.
“Today, Kasha! We’ll be safe in Argellus Lochram, but we have to go
right now!”
There was a big red button on my console labeled “WARP.” It looked fairly self-explanatory, so I pressed it. Beams of light stabbed outward from the
Spitfire, converging on a single point directly ahead of us. At that spot, a shimmering pool began forming in space—almost like magic! (We call that the “warp gate.” But you knew that already, didn’t you?)
I pressed every button and pulled every lever I could find. With a lurch, the
Spitfire rocketed towards the gate, its engines blasting at full power. We were almost home free!
Unfortunately, we didn’t quite make it. On the viewscreen, the pirate flagship launched a pair of missiles at us. These babies looked
vicious. They were long, sleek, and heavily-armored. There was no way we could shoot them down in time.
“Five seconds to impact!” somebody shouted.
“Brace yourselves!” shouted another.
“Four seconds!”
Kira rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders. I was so surprised, I didn’t know what to say. She looked me right in the eyes and said, very serious-like, “Argellus Lochram. Don’t forget, Kasha.”
I nodded.
“One second to impact!”
The missiles hit. There was a blinding flash and my world turned white.
Then everything faded to black.
* * * * * * * * *
“Ow.”
Akasha opened her tired eyes. A little slowly and grudgingly at first, like she didn’t have a choice in the matter. The first thing she noticed was the most obvious: the world as she knew it was upside down. The floor was the ceiling; the ceiling was the floor. It took a second for her brain to process the meaning behind it. Her throbbing head was the first indicator, and a pretty big clue. There was also the fact that her long, chestnut brown hair was pooled in a heap on the floor. That meant gravity wasn’t inverted. Therefore, the logical conclusion was: she was upside down, the rest of the world wasn’t.
Therefore: she had fallen out of bed and hit the floor headfirst. That explained the pain and disorientation. It made a hell of a lot more sense than gravity reversing itself overnight—which was possible on a colony ship, but not very likely.
Once she realized that, Akasha let out a sound halfway between a groan and a relieved sigh. The next thing she did was take her left hand and pat the top of her head. There were no Lillipan bunny ears attached. As she suspected, it had all been a dream. One big, crazy, disorienting dream. The second one that week, in fact. What had Kira been trying to tell her right before she woke up? Something about visiting a place. What was it called, again? Argus? Arjellius? She couldn’t quite remember. The details of the dream were already starting to fade into the mists of her unconscious mind.
But Akasha wasn’t too concerned about that. It was just a dream, after all, and she had better things to worry about. First on her to-do list was getting out of bed. She was halfway there already, she just needed to finish the job. Her upper half was slumped over the edge of the bed, facing up. The back of her head was smooshed into the carpet below. Her lower half was still in bed, legs tangled up in a pair of cloth sheets. Akasha bucked and kicked to free herself. It wasn’t easy. She was tangled up tighter than a Newman burrito, but eventually she got it. One last, big push did the trick. The force of the maneuver sent Akasha tumbling head over heels backward (technically heels over head, to be precise). She pivoted mid-air and landed upright, planting both feet firmly on the ground. If anyone had been watching, they would have called it a rather acrobatic move.
With step one accomplished, she padded over to the nearest wall switch and slid a finger across it. In response, the opaque tint on her window faded to transparent and morning light began streaming in. Her bedroom, previously dark and subdued, was suddenly bathed in a cheery golden warmth.
Akasha took a moment to soak in the view. The jagged skyline of downtown
Ur pierced the horizon. There was a steady stream of traffic in the streets, little more than colored ant trails in the distance. The donut-shaped lake glistened and sparkled like diamonds where the artificial sunlight caught the water. And at the center of it all stood the grand spire, rising up to meet the Great Dome high above.
Akasha took a long stretch. Elbows bent high, hands tucked behind her head. She leaned to one side, held it for two seconds. Leaned the other way, held it for two more. Satisfied, she headed down the hall to the restroom and stepped into the shower. There was no need to undress since she wasn’t wearing anything in the first place.
“Shower on,” she said. “Hot.”
It reacted to her voice and a spray of steaming water began raining down from above. Akasha lathered up then rinsed off. When she was done she stood there an extra minute, not moving, not really thinking, just letting the heat from the shower warm her tired bones and kick-start her brain. It was part of her daily ritual and worked better than coffee.
Akasha toweled off quickly. She left the damp cloth in a heap on the bathroom floor and went off in search of some clothes. It turned out to be quite a scavenger hunt. She found a set of clean underwear in a dresser drawer. A pair of gray checkered pants slung over an armchair. A long-sleeved white shirt folded up on the sofa. A short-sleeved black overshirt hanging in the closet. A pair of socks hidden away under the bed. She put them all on, in that order. Dried her unruly hair and tied it back in a ponytail. Finally, she snagged a pair of sunglasses off the kitchen counter and set them on top of her head, purely for style points.
Akasha looked herself up and down in the mirror. Not bad, she decided, but the outfit was still lacking something. She threw on a pair of black fingerless gloves and checked the mirror again. There, perfect.
Outside, birds were chirping. Morning light was shining in through the window bright and clear. A cheerful hum escaped Akasha’s mouth as she gathered up her things for the day. She had plans to see a movie later with Ivan. It wasn’t a date, exactly, but it was something. Yes, she thought, it was definitely shaping up to be a good day.
Then her doorbell rang.
TO BE CONTINUED
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(Side note: The crew of a starship will be making an appearance three chronicles/chapters from now, but they won't be the main focus of that story.)
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