In a menacing tone Cha’Hawk had never heard Mi’Kel use before, he answered, “Your plan was going to end this way, regardless of my intervention. I have merely reduced the time required for it to reach its conclusion.” Mi’Kel tossed Cha’Hawk to Ki’Ra’s feet, and before Cha’Hawk could fight back, the two officers that had restrained him, in addition to Zan’Tar, who had apparently quickly thrown away his loyalty to Cha’Hawk, held him down while Ki’Ra walked to him. When he reached Cha’Hawk, he bent over to face him and casually examined him as if he were a piece of outdated computer equipment.
“You never should have opposed me, former Tactical Analysist Cha’Hawk. Because of your actions, the clan of Hawk may never recover from your disgrace as a warrior of the Tora Cyrel.” Members of the Ribiyar species were partially named after their clan. For example, two of Cha’Hawk’s other clan members (only a total of fifteen members of each clan are constructed and online at one time) were Tho’Hawk and Ply’Hawk. The actions of earlier clan members greatly influence how other Ribiyar viewed a clan, and though Cha’Hawk was already considered a disgrace of the clan of Hawk, which was partially the reason he had been assigned to the invasion force as a Tactical Analysist, reduced to merely analyzing battle plans instead of fighting the enemy, he knew his actions would exponentially lower the view of his clan. It is possible that the Tora Cyrel might just exterminate them outright, as a response to his dishonorable service.
It is just as well, Cha’Hawk mused to himself. I never liked those miserable excuses for Ribiyar anyway.
“To ensure your rebellion ends here, it is time to put you out of your misery, here and now.” Ki’Ra reached for his small, pyramid shaped gun on his lower left leg, but Mi’Kel stopped him. “High Order Ki’Ra, if I may interrupt, I recommend a different course of action. I believe that an execution is too quick and easy for an insurrectionist like him. I suggest that we keep him in an Oblivion Chamber, until the invasion has been won, and we return to Ribiyar space. Then, we can make an example of him, and show the rest of the Tora Cyrel the mistake of acting against their leaders.” Cha’Hawk saw that this proposal pleased Ki’Ra, most likely because he believed that he would receive all the glory of the outcomes that action would bring.
“Very well. Take him to the Oblivion Chamber on the lower levels and inform the operator to set it on its highest setting.” Many Ribiyar had been mentally damaged from the Oblivion Chamber just from its lowest effects; the most powerful setting usually left the Ribiyar either mentally insane, or the Ribiyar’s mental core simply deteriorated, bringing a slow and excruciating execution.
As they dragged Cha’Hawk away, Mi’Kel spoke, “It is time to truly see how powerful your mind is Cha’Hawk. I look forward to seeing the results.” Though Cha’Hawk struggled against his handlers, they dragged him out of the room.
And as the door closed, the last thing he saw was Ki’Ra’s look of satisfaction for silencing the strongest oppressor against his rule.
Chapter 22
Date: July 10, 2132.
Location: Aboard the U.S.S. Ocean-Walker, traveling through the Atlantic Ocean.
“So, do you think you can fix him?” Olo asked as Jack examined Blitz. Jack and Olo stood in crew quarters that no one had been assigned to and were attempting to determine whether repairing Blitz was a lost cause. The beds in the room were filled with spare parts for Blitz, and a small table had been brought in and the E.V.A.N. had been placed on it, giving Jack and Olo room to maneuver around him to administer repairs. While the captains considered who to assign to the elite squad that would assault the Control Center, Captain Whitefield requested Olo be reassigned back to the Ocean-Walker, so he could operate Blitz and supervise him through the assault on the base. While Olo lacked much of the proper training and skills that would qualify him for this sort of mission, he had the most experience with Blitz, and had the best chance of retaining control of him. Though Jack might have a chance of taking control of Blitz’s computer systems, he wouldn’t be able to control him once he connected to the Holding Facility’s computer, since all of his computing power would be diverted to overcome the computer core’s defenses, which would be extremely hazardous for the assault team if the E.V.A.N. went out of control during that time.
“I’m not sure,” Jack replied as he scanned Blitz with the sensor beams on his hands, walking around him so he could get a complete scan. “Though he has taken a great deal of structural damage, I believe it should be repairable.” Jack leaned down so he was right next to Blitz to get a closer look at his systems. From his scans, he determined that several of Blitz’s circuity components had been destroyed or damaged during the fight, resulting in his unresponsive state. Jack fetched new parts for the damaged ones, and after he and Olo replaced them, he reactivated Blitz’s power systems. Blitz’s limbs began to twitch, and his crimson-red eyes sprang open. Blitz jumped to his feet, surveying his surroundings, when he focused on Jack.
Blitz meowed deeply as he jumped to his feet, deployed mini-machine guns on his front arms, and fired at Jack. Not wanting to harm Blitz, Jack attempted to dodge what bullets he could, which was difficult with so little room to maneuver in, and tried to shield himself with his arms. Bullets bounced off of Jack, flying all around the room, one bullet striking the wall only a few inches from Olo, who was frantically looking through a pile of spare parts.
Blitz stopped firing, and jumped high into the air to tackle Jack, releasing thick, long razor-sharp claws from his paws, but he suddenly deactivated, his eyes turned dark and lifeless, and he thumped harmlessly against Jack, and fell to the floor.
“I found Blitz’s off switch,” Olo said as he held up a small transceiver. “I’m so sorry about that. I think he assumed you were a Ribiyar. Considering his programing, I guess that could be understandable, given your appearance. I may need your help to reprogram his identification systems, among other things,” Olo said as he and Jack lifted Blitz back up to the table to continue working on him.
“I will stay to assist in the reprograming, but I will need to report elsewhere eventually. There is much to prepare for before the assault on the Holding Center begins.” Jack connected with Blitz’s computer systems and began to adjust his settings so Blitz wouldn’t attack him and, as much as he would enjoy seeing it, Victor when he was in his Dark Serpent armor.
“Jack,” Olo said after working for a few minutes, “I know we haven’t had time to talk since we first saw each other again, but I did want to tell you that I’m relieved to see you are doing well, all things considered.”
Though he continued to work, Jack smiled and said, “It is good to see you as well. I am glad to see you are progressing well through your career. I must apologize for not staying in touch after I was transferred from the Charger. My life became extremely busy once I was given command of the Atlanta, and…” Jack paused, trying to find the right words, but found himself at a loss for them.
“It’s fine, Jack. I suppose I also could have tried harder to stay in contact with you.”
Wanting to catch up with his old friend, Jack said, “It is going to take a little time to complete Blitz’s alterations to his systems, but I would like to make some upgrades to his weapons to make him more effective against the Ribiyar. If you don’t mind me asking, could you tell me what’s happened to you after I transferred from the Charger?”
“I would be glad to share some stories with you, but don’t think you can get away without filling me in on what you’ve been up to.” For the next hour, Jack and Olo worked hard on Blitz, completing the adjustments to his computer systems, and also working to upgrade Blitz’s weapons and enhancing some of his other components, such as his agility in movement and his targeting sensors. And while they worked, Jack and Olo were also able to learn about each other’s past few years, using what little time they had to resume their friendship.
One hour and thirty minutes later…
“Chief Le
xton, can you and the engineering crew complete these tasks, based on the data that I’ve sent you?” Jack stood in the Ocean-Walker’s communication center, now located in the lower decks after the destruction of the bridge. His hands were pressed against one of the control console’s for the communication equipment, energy lancing off them and onto the device, linking him to it, allowing Jack to silently partake in the conversation as his voice was transmitted directly into the equipment, and Chief Lexton’s response routed into his systems.
“I believe so, Jack. It may be difficult, with how busy all the officers aboard this ship are, but I can either reassign some officers, or have Captain Rickman have some of the other senior officers assist with the computer adjustments. And Jack, Ambassador Zephier and I have finished that training program he talked to you about is ready for you to use. Do you think you will have time to make use of it?”
“I should be able to find the time to run them after I perform my duties. Can you download the information to this ship for me?”
“I believe I can, Jack, but I will need to sign off for the data to be sent. But before I do, Captain Rickman wanted me to tell you that he has chosen a new name for the Ribiyar ship; the Defender, named after our resistance, for it will be one of our greatest assets in our fight against the Ribiyar.”
“I think it’s a perfect fit, Chief. Good luck out there, we’re all going to need it. Vade, out.”
After his many duties were completed, Jack was finally able to make his way to the training deck below the Ocean-Walker, where the selected officers from the other ships had met. The training room covered a large area of space, and possessed a two-story tall ceiling to support a rock climbing wall, and several targets were spaced around one side of the room, either hanging from the ceiling, or standing on stands near the wall. In addition to the targets, there were also some punching bags and martial arts equipment to allow the officers to improve their karate or other self-defense practices. Along with practicing with their gear and equipment, the group was instructed to prepare a mission strategy for their assault, and become acquainted with each other before they went into battle. In total, there were nine crew, counting Olo, chosen for this mission.
When Jack entered the room, he immediately got the impression that he was dealing with highly trained professionals. Most of the people in the room were either firing at targets placed around the room, practicing martial arts with self-defense mannequins, or huddled by tables in the far corner performing maintenance and adjustments to their weapons and equipment.
Jack decided to first meet the three officers firing at the targets, and he walked over as they fired at the targets until they emptied their weapons. One of the officers, a tall, extremely muscular man with long brown hair that fell to his shoulders, turned to Jack as he inserted more ammo into his modified AK-47 rifle. From a visual inspection, the rifle appeared to have been modified to provide a more powerful shot, and the ammo was configured specifically to penetrate metallic material; a necessary improvement if the gun had any chance to breach the Ribiyar’s metal skin.
When Jack arrived at the group, the long-haired man tossed his rifle toward him. Jack caught the gun with his right hand, and before he could question why he had given him the gun, the major said in a heavy New York accent, “Hey tinman, I’m Colonel Vern Brown. I hear that you’re supposed to be some advanced machine-guy, possessing super smarts, targeting, and other mechanical stuff like that. This true?”
Jack nodded. “It is. My transformation has greatly increased many of my functions, including-”
“Don’t bore me with the details,” Brown interrupted. “I don’t care about all that techno-specifics stuff. What I do care about is what you can do with a gun, particularly, how good you are at aiming. I know we don’t have moving targets, but those bulls-eye’s over there are good enough.” Brown took a step back from Jack and leaned against a cabinet containing equipment. “Go ahead, mechanical man. Show me what ya got.”
Now, the rest of the officers that had been shooting at the targets were closely watching him, observing him to see what skills he possessed. Refusing to be embarrassed mere moments after meeting his team, Jack cocked a round into the chamber, aimed his rifle, and fired at a target directly in front of him. The bullet scored a direct bulls-eye. Wanting to show the others what he was truly capable of, Jack fired at the targets, making a total of eleven bulls-eyes. To really impresses the group, Jack surveyed the room around him, measuring a multitude of angles necessary to make this super-shot. Jack retuned his focus to his selected target, a circular target that had fallen off its stand and laid flat on the ground. Without looking behind him, Jack aimed the rifle behind him, knowing the bullet’s flight path was away from the officers in the training room, and fired. The bullet bounced off the wall behind him, ricocheted off the ceiling, and struck another perfect bulls-eye on the fallen target. Both of the other officers, one a fit man with crew cut black hair and chomped on a strip of beef jerky, and another young-looking officer with silvery-blond hair, were astonished by the display. Brown approached Jack, clapping as he walked.
“Very good, mechanical man. At least we know that we can trust you not to hit us by accident in a firefight with the metal heads. Now, go test out your hand-to-hand combat on those sparring dummies over there,” Brown said as he pointed to the punching bags and martial art mannequin’s. He glanced at his gun and sighed. “Outta’ rounds already. I’m going to restock real quick, feel free to introduce yourselves.”
Brown walked away and the younger officer extended his hand to Jack and they shook. “Lieutenant Johnny Fairchild. Pleasure to meet you, Vade. Good to know we’ll have some muscle on this run.”
Jack shook Fairchild’s hand. “I’m glad I can be of help here. Something has to change if we’re going to win this war.”
The other officer nodded. “And you definitely will. Name’s Larry Rogers. But my friends call me Beef.”
Jack fought the urge to laugh. “Beef?”
Rogers shrugged as he took another bite out of his strip of Jerky. “I hate the name Larry. And I love Beef Jerky. I’m a simple man.”
Colonel Brown walked back to them, cocking a round into his gun. “Now that you’re all acquainted, let’s get back to it you two. I want you two to keep working on your aim with me. If you can’t hit non-moving fake targets, you aren’t likely to hit real moving targets either.” Sighing, they reluctantly complied and grabbed their weapons, Rogers using a flame-thrower and a Laser Rifle in reserve, and Fairchild carried a Quick-shot machine-gun.
Major Aru, a buff man with short, black hair
Lieutenant Commander Stone, a dark tanned officer with combed, brown hair, practiced their moves on each other.
As they resumed their target practice, Jack walked over to the martial arts part of the training room. There two soldiers spared, one a buff man with short, black hair and an insignia of the Marines tattooed on his right arm, and the other a dark tanned officer with combed, brown hair. They walked off the mat and both took a deep brink from bottles they had nearby.
“I assume your on this run as well?” The tattooed man asked.
“I am,” Jack said, extending his hand. “Jack Vade.”
“Major Buck Aru,” the man said, shaking his hand briskly. “Seven years of service with side training as a field medic. I guess I’ll be in charge of patching everyone up.”
“Lieutenant Commander Simon Stone,” the other man said, shaking Jack’s hand as well. “I specialize in ranged firefights, whether it be with a rifle or like more recently, a bow and arrow.”
Jack frowned and Stone laughed.
“I’ve been getting that reaction a lot. R&D cooked up some arrows that have EMPs on the arrowhead, and they’ve proved effective so far. My parent’s owned a hunting shop, and I spent a long time messing with them after hours. Worst case, I got plenty other weapons to use mid-fight if I get a bow break on me.”
Jack laughed and nodded, letting them get back to it. As he approached the training dummies on the other side of the room, he decided to run on the programs Ambassador Zephier had made and see how they pan out. Jack walked to a corner, where he was far enough to not hit anyone or anything if the simulation accidently triggered any movement. He closed his eyes and activated the martial arts training program.
Program uploaded and activating in five seconds.
Deactivating motor systems and rerouting mental functions to program.
Engaging...
Jack opened his eyes to find that he was in a training dojo. The room he was in was a large, two-story facility with no windows on the walls, and the light in the room was produced from strobe lights chained to the ceiling. On the floor of the dojo, a large training mat covered the entire floor of the room, with Jack positioned in the exact center of the mat.
“Greetings, Vade.” Jack turned to find Ambassador Zephier standing behind him. “I see that you have taken the time to activate one of my training programs. Good. In the short time you have left before your biggest trial begins, you must learn to fight at your maximum strength, and know the limits of your abilities. While you may see training for your guns and flying more important than fighting with your fists and legs, you must realize that our ancestors fought with their hands before swords, spears, arrows, and guns were invented. If your devices fail you in battle, you must use your available assets to continue fighting against our aggressors. So, this program is designed to test your fighting strengths using only limbs, not any of your fancy weaponry. But be warned, these opponents are designed to adapt to your moves as you progress, challenging you as you grow stronger. Let us begin.”
Galactic Defenders- Endurance Page 21
