Lilpax is stunned, she is to not only to be a bridge officer, but she is on the flagship, Voknor’s ship. She replies as confidently as she can, though her voice sounds squeaky and timid, “I will serve you well.” She glances up quickly, blushes, and hurriedly adds, “Regent!”
“You two will start your new positons in three duty cycles,” Voknor instructs, then with a mischievous grin, adds, “that should give you plenty of time to prepare.”
Neither knows what to say about the turn of events, and leaves, humbled and excited. Lilpax glances back at the bridge and feels a strange sensation, the same as she experienced before, and after, the trial.
Sharz shakes his head; clearly, she has a crush on the Regent, and does not even know it. Fortunately for him, she does not interest him, or he would be bothered.
As soon as they are out of earshot of the bridge, Sharz can no longer contain his excitement, he grins and declares, “We both made it! And you get to be on the bridge, what an honor!” He feels a twinge of envy at her station, but is excited to have been promoted too.
She smiles and replies, “You get to be the Supplies Officer on the flagship no less! That’s an impressive title, and a position with loads of responsibility.”
They both chuckle at the unintended pun as they simultaneously repeat, loads.
Sharz nods his head as he realizes that although he will not be on the bridge, he does have an important, and crucial, role to perform.
The pair makes their way to forward section, where they are met by two members of Prytec’s security force. Parting, both wonder what is happening as a security officer silently walks with each of them to their separate rooms.
Lilpax stops, turns to her escort, and nervously questions, “What’s going on?”
The security officer chuckles at her apprehension, then replies, “You have quarters on level three of the command tower. I am to assist in your immediate relocation.”
“Oh?” she replies, then as it dawns on her that she is being assigned officer quarters, states with surprise, “Oh!” She beams with pride, and says, “Thanks!”
She walks along at a steady pace as her thoughts wander. The second she arrives at her room; she begins carefully packing everything she has onto the small gravity sled that was left for her. Like most, she owns meager possessions; a few items of clothing, a blanket, a towel, a tooth cleaner, a manual scale-deflaker for her skin, and her mobile console which was given to her as part of her training. She stares at the neat, small pile of items and frowns as she realizes that as a trainee officer, and now an officer, she actually has more than most.
Life is hard for the Gamin, there is no such concept as luxuries. Everything has a use or a purpose, or is demolecularized.
Sharz on the other hand leads his escort at a frantic pace, rushing to his quarters, where he hurriedly packs, then eagerly states, “Lead the way please!”
The guard smiles, then stands tall, and with a serious tone responds, “Yes sir!”
“Sir?” Sharz replies, perplexed by the older Gamin’s comment.
He looks at the guard, who is far older than him, confused. His jaw drops when it suddenly dawns on him that that he now outranks the guard. He turns to his escort, tilts his head, and states respectfully, “You honor me.”
The guard grins and says, “I think I’m going to like you!” He regains his professionalism, quickly adding, “Your new quarters are on level three of the command tower, and much more spacious than this room.”
Sharz replies excitedly, “I have heard you all speak in familiar terms when in front of our Regent, please don’t treat me any different. I may be an officer now, but you are still my elder, and I respect that.”
The guard nods, then replies, “Very well!”
Neither Lilpax, or Sharz, waste the three days’ transition time on relaxation. While Lilpax spends her time learning the bridge stations, and the various protocols, Sharz spends his in the various storage areas. He focuses his efforts learning the complexities of demolecularization storage, and is flabbergasted when the supply officers on the other vessels, many much older than him, treat him as their equal.
Lilpax observes the way the bridge crew interacts with Regent Voknor, and feels at ease. He has no qualms about issuing orders, and yet also listens to them, a great balance. She turns her attention back to her console, and monitors the ship’s systems. Everything is becoming routine, and a little dull. She wishes to experience some excitement, a wish she will soon regret.
The pair quickly settles into their new roles, and despite their differing responsibilities, still spend some of their off time together, and swap stories.
New Horizons
The crews lose count of how many worlds they visit, how many youngling trials occur, and how many minor engagements they have with Atlan forces. Regent Voknor plays cat and mouse with the Atlan forces time and time again, never engaging more than one carrier, or any other larger force. As soon as each battle is over, Voknor orders his fleet to move to another area completely; sometimes traveling for hundreds of light years, such is the vastness of the territory they operate within.
Regent Voknor grins as yet another Atlan Carrier force retreats, then orders, “Frazik, find us a safe area between the stars, for a meeting of the Primes.”
“Yes Regent!” Frazik responds, then quickly gets to work, scanning for a void in space where the Atlans are unlikely to be.
Two duty cycles later the fleet comes to a rest in space, the nearest inhabited system many light years away. The Primes travel by shuttle to the flagship, then make their way to the meeting room.
Voknor stands tall and focuses on the reason he called the ships’ Primes, “We have waited long enough! It is time we sought out a world where we can construct our first new vessel.”
The Primes cheer loudly, the noise reverberates around the room.
Roggard shouts, raising his voice above the din, “Regent, our numbers continue to grow! The success rate of the younglings who go through the trial is astounding! We have lost few to its rigors, a true testimony to your leadership.”
Voknor replies seriously, “I would prefer to congratulate the preparations of the Den Mothers!” He lowers his gaze in respect.
Prytec flashes a glance at Voknor, but says nothing. After all this time, the Primes are still oblivious to his teams’ clandestine operations in protecting the younglings.
“Yes, most proper.” Roggard agrees.
“Anyway, we digress fellow clansmen!” Voknor states as he paces the area before them. “I am told by our engineers that we require a world with radiologics technology in order to construct the engines, gravity systems, and other key components, for any craft.”
“What are we waiting for?” Devril shouts excitedly.
Voknor grins, “This world must also be inside our assigned area of space, and be one where we can leave a minimalistic force, while the rest of us keep the Atlans unaware of our plans.”
The room goes quiet; that’s quite a tall order.
Pitrax comments, “Can we at least get Lokarz to begin manufacturing some of the internal components?”
Lokarz promptly agrees, “Yes, that’s a great idea!”
The meeting continues as the Primes take advantage of the gathering and raise many concerns. Voknor listens to each issue, then either comes to a decision, or makes notes for a later review.
The Primes return to their craft; all are excited by the prospect of adding to the fleet.
Regent Voknor strides onto the bridge and immediately orders, “Frazik, Lilpax, I give you two the unenviable task of finding a world that meets our needs for the construction of new craft.”
Lilpax glances back and forth, stunned by the responsibility thrust on her. She hesitantly replies, “My understanding is that we need a nearby world with radiologics?”
“Correct!” Voknor replies, then adds with a smile, “Plus other considerations!”
Lilpax stares at her console, overwhelmed, th
en with a deep breath, begins her hunt. She removes thousands of worlds as she creates her search protocols. She mutters quietly as she works, “Sentient life, breathable atmosphere, in our assigned area, not near the Atlans, oh yes, and they must have radiologics!”
Voknor hears her mumblings, and with a grin, turns to her and says, “I don’t expect you find a world immediately; it will take time!”
“I have one!” She replies, as surprised as the rest by her discovery.
Frazik glances at the Regent, then walking to her console, states bluntly, “Show me!”
A few moments pass as the two review her data, then Frazik confirms, “Lilpax found one alright!” He turns to her and says, “Why don’t you report your findings?”
Lilpax proudly says, “The world is on the outer edge of our operational area, well away from any known Atlan activity. In addition, I took into account the trend of our movements since the exodus, and this world will remain on the extreme edge of our area for quite some time!”
Cushkull notes that Frazik has sent him coordinates, and happily chimes in, “Course plotted! Regent, the fleet awaits your order!
Voknor leans back, lifts his hand and says, “At your discretion, Cushkull!”
Three moons orbit the planet before them. Its deep-blue waters are a stark contrast to the wide red belts of desert. Millions live in expansive cities, many with buildings reaching high into the sky. Lush green forests occupy vast tracts of land, but clearly these areas are diminishing. Smog clouds many cities, indicating that pollution controls may not be in place.
Skylow turns and says in alarm, “A number of satellites have turned our way; they contain a variety of energy and projectile weapons.”
“Understood,” Voknor replies, then after a moment of deliberating, orders, “destroy all of them, every satellite.”
Machkno enjoys destroying the satellites, and even chuckles as some explode spectacularly, revealing their secret cargos of powerful weapons. Cushkull humors him and orbits the world.
Skylow states, “The fleet is stationed around the planet, and the standard message has been sent.”
Lilpax monitors the planet below and shakes her head at the chaos their arrival is causing. Communication systems planet-wide now display Regent Voknor’s face, while deep apocalyptic sounding drum beats resonate. Their presence is causing the citizens to panic. They soon flood their ground based transport networks, bringing many of them to a halt.
Machkno destroys another missile which heads their way, and reports, “Well, that’s thirty-nine. You’d think they would get it by now!”
Lilpax dares comment, “My Regent, if they keep this up, they won’t be of any use to us! Their fears are getting the better of them!”
The bridge crew is surprised by Lilpax’s unexpected familiarity, but says nothing and waits.
Voknor glances to Lilpax, then as she turns away, blushing, he replies, “Quite right!”
Frazik suppresses a grin as he says, “Global communications are at your control, Regent!”
Voknor straightens his robe, then lets his expression harden as he engages a symbol, transmitting his message to virtually every communications network, “I am Regent Voknor! My fleet requires that you provide resources, in exchange for your survival. All military activities will cease immediately. A shuttle will be dispatched to transport a delegation of your leaders to my vessel, to discuss how we are to be supplied, and where.”
Skylow cuts the communications as hundreds of communiques respond, then says, “One of their military factions seems to be readying for a fight!”
“Show me!” Voknor orders.
The main viewer zooms in to display a fleet of water based craft, each with atmospheric fighters on board. They watch as the force departs a port near a major city.
Voknor sighs, then orders, “Contact that armada and tell them to return to port. If they do not comply, then wait for that force to be clear of the city, and then eliminate them!”
Lilpax tilts her head; she is surprised that he seems concerned with not harming the citizens.
As if reading her thoughts Voknor states, “I want the citizens to understand that they are safe, as long as they comply with our wishes!”
Machkno’s gusto at destroying orbital satellites is one thing; killing defenseless inhabitants is not something he enjoys. But then he reasons, they are a military force, albeit a weak one.
Frazik shakes his head, “They’re ignoring our demands!”
As the fleet moves into open water, Machkno turns to look at Regent Voknor. At Voknor’s nod, he touches a control on his panel.
A bolt of energy flashes downward and strikes the largest craft, searing it in half in seconds. Many of the smaller vessels wallow and sink in the huge waves created by its destruction. A few vessels survive, to limp away, back to port.
Machkno reaches out to destroy them, but stops as Voknor orders, “Let them be. We have proven our point!”
Skylow sighs, “Another continent just launched nearly one hundred fifty atmospheric fighters.”
Lilpax states forlornly, “Don’t they know they’re beaten, and can’t win?”
Voknor nods sympathetically, as he questions, “Would we?”
Skylow requests, “Your orders, Regent?”
Voknor considers his options then taps his armrest console. Almost immediately Prime Glarth’s features appear on the main viewer. “Glarth, approach those light craft, and let them shoot you, to show they are no match for us. If they persist, eliminate them, but if they retreat, let them go.”
Glarth gleefully replies, “I hope they don’t retreat then!” His visage vanishes from the screen.
Lilpax watches as Glarth’s vessel enters the atmosphere, its main shields at full strength. The indigenous craft fire puny missiles at the relatively monstrous vessel. None miss, and all strike the shields, causing them to glow briefly with each impact. She is surprised by Glarth’s restraint, and had expected him to shoot back the instant they fired.
A second wave approaches Glarth’s vessel as it slowly descends through the clouds. Lilpax observes a single pounder firing, its target vanishes in a brief fiery plume. The rest turn and run, and are spared destruction.
Skylow receives a communication and says, “It would seem they have had enough, and wish to discuss terms!”
“Terms?” Voknor questions, then says, “Well, our terms are simple. They will provide resources, or perish!”
Skylow relays the demands, then leans back and says, “They wish to meet to discuss how to fulfill our requirements.”
“Of course they do.” Voknor replies with a shake of his head.
Twenty-eight aliens restlessly sit in the meeting room before Regent Voknor, each closely watched by one of Prytec’s guards. They are as tall as Prytec, have pale skin, and hairless bodies, with small heads atop narrow shoulders. Their arms seem disproportionate, with short forearms and long upper arms. Their legs are the same, with their knees appearing to be too low, and yet they seem to move around quite easily. Some cough and sputter in the air; clearly theirs is different, and yet the gravity does not seem to bother them.
Voknor speaks loudly and firmly, “You will provide my fleet with resources, lots of resources. One of my craft will land as close to your mass transit systems as is possible, maximizing transportation efficiency.”
“My country is poor!” Exclaims one of the delegation as he stands.
“Why are you here then? If your country is so insignificant, then you should leave!” Voknor states as he motions to a guard.
“I am here to make sure the more powerful leaders do not negotiate away my country’s resources for free.” He replies indignantly. He looks at those around him, then seeing their disparaging looks, sits back down.
Voknor motions for the guard to leave the man be, then leans forward and growls angrily, “You are not here to negotiate anything. You are here to listen to my demands, and to fulfill them. That is it!”
The
group mumbles amongst themselves, then another stands. He speaks softly, his voice measured, “Regent Voknor, I am Premier Pheldar; welcome to our world.” He casts his practiced gaze over the others and declares, “We all wish for our first contact with an alien race to have a peaceful resolution.”
Voknor tilts his head; being referred to as an alien, feels odd, but that is exactly what the translators relayed.
Pheldar takes the pause as permission to continue, and says, “We hope that you would consider giving us something in exchange for meeting your needs.” He quickly stammers, “We are not demanding, or expecting anything, but clearly your space technology is far more advanced than ours, and we were hoping…” His voice trails off as he loses his confidence under Voknor’s withering scrutiny.
Voknor smiles, revealing his long teeth; the man is an eloquent speaker. They will provide everything regardless, but should they be given something in return, then they will look good to their subjects.
Pheldar swallows hard, then sits and waits to see what happens.
Glancing at his rings, Voknor reminisces over the positive contact their clan has had with many races. He stares at the Premier and replies, “I would consider sharing gravity plate technology, if, and I repeat if, your entire world complies, without any hostilities!”
The first man stands to speak, but is quickly interrupted by Pheldar, “We would welcome anything you share. We thank you in advance, and look forward to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“It is settled then!” Voknor states, then adds, “My engineers will inform you of our needs. You will be returned now.”
Voknor strides out of the room, leaving the locals, who immediately bicker amongst themselves. Prytec lets them go on for a while, then says, “You can talk yourselves into extinction, or gain our gratitude by supplying all we require!”
The group suddenly realizes where they are, and sheepishly leaves with their escorts.
Lokarz easily finds the best location to land; he has had plenty of practice, and in short order, begins construction of the dock. As promised, the various nations of the planet rally together and supply a steady stream of raw materials, including the rare minerals required for many of the complex components.
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 153
