Star Guild Episodes 10 - 18 (Star Guild Saga)

by Brandon Ellis

  Chase straightened. “Right.” He leaned forward, pressing a holographic button in the middle console between them. It was in the same position as the Star Guild starfighters. “Got it. Entry shield activated.”

  “OMS activated?”

  Chase pushed out his lower lip. He looked around the console. “I...don't know where that is.”

  “Well, turn on your HDC.” Kalista sighed. She leaned over and flicked a lever and a holographic display popped up in front of Chase. She pointed at his screen. “Orbital Maneuvering System is on. See?”

  “Yup. Sorry, these Starhawks were classified when I was in Star Guild flight school. Never seen one of these things from the inside, so I don't know its inner workings.”

  She tilted the craft at a forty-degree angle. “Yeah, I can tell. Are aft thrusters stabilized?”

  Chase eyed the HDC. “Yes.” He crinkled his brow. “Can't you see this on your HDC, too?”

  “If I don't have to look at it, I won't. It's a distraction.”

  The craft entered planet Opus' upper atmosphere and the friction of entry illuminated the shield around the craft in a yellow-red color, looking much like a dancing, swirling fire seeking to grab the nose of the craft. Chase squeezed his armrests, pressing his feet hard against the floorboard. Gravity intensified and he felt like his head was smashing into the headrest behind him.

  Moments later the fire died down and extinguished as they reached the lower atmosphere. The craft started to glide and level out.

  “Boys, take a look. It's a beautiful thing.”

  Thousands of feet below the water sparkled, elegantly dazzling in the sun.

  “That's amazing. You seeing that, Devon?” asked Chase.

  “Not really.” Devon was leaning forward, held by his restraints, doing his best to take in the view.

  He began to unbuckle himself but Kalista stopped him. “Stay seated. We're heading to Underpost 9.”

  The Starhawk dipped forward, nosing straight toward the water. Just as they were going to hit the water, Kalista pulled the control stick back, pressed some buttons on the HDC, and hovered the Starhawk in place about five feet above the water's surface.

  “Going down,” she murmured. The craft lowered into the water then sank below the surface. When the bubbles cleared, Chase instinctively jerked away from his side window. A creature was bobbing up and down with its snout pressed up to the window. It seemed to look right at Chase and then nudged against the co-pilot door, as if in greeting. It was a gray, hairless creature with fins—obviously a fish of some sort, but much larger than any fish in Starbase Matrona's biosphere rivers.

  Another swam beside it; it seemed like they were both trying to peer inside.

  “That's a Crustacean species. Those are dolphins—they like playing with our crafts when we submerge into the water. They chase us, like it’s a game or something.”

  Devon unstrapped and made his way to Chase, leaning against the co-pilot seat. “Whoa...” he waved to the dolphin. “They seem to be quite intelligent. Look at their eyes.”

  “They have larger brains than you and use more of their brain than humans, as well. So, in essence, they're smarter than your species. If they had hands and feet, they probably wouldn't allow us on this planet. At least, I hope they wouldn't. It's my contention that we should never take over another species’ planet, but that's not up to me.”

  Kalista flicked a lever and they started speeding through the turquoise water. The dolphins gave chase, playfully twirling over and under the craft.

  “Devon?” Kalista's nostrils flared as she turned in her seat, giving him cold eyes. “Didn't I tell you to stay seated?”

  “Are there other kinds of that species?” asked Devon, moving back to his seat.

  “Well, there are many types of dolphins.” She thought for a moment. “Another class of Crustaceans is called ‘whales’. This is their planet, but again, I don't like how we exploit them and their minerals just as we do with your planet, and other planets and moons.”

  Chase smiled tentatively. “You don't agree with what your race does to other races?”

  “I'm in conflict, yes.”

  “Then why do you participate?”

  “I do what I have to do to survive and help my race from dying out. But things are changing. I can feel it. Some of my race are doing their best to find another way to keep our race alive.” She clicked on her com link. “Outpost 9, this is Kalista. We are heading in for repairs.”

  “Steer to inline and we'll pull you in,” said a female voice over the link.

  Kalista slightly moved her control stick to the left and a clank sounded, momentarily pushing the Starhawk backwards, then sending them forward at a high speed. Through the sun's rays shining into the water they saw a thick metallic line attached to the nose of their craft pulling them along.

  “They have a magnetic suction connecting that line to this Starhawk. They are pulling us in. We'll get food while they repair our ship,” explained Kalista.

  “Then what?” asked Devon.

  “Once everything is fixed, we get back to orbit.”

  Up ahead a large, disk-like structure peered over them. Round lights surrounded the top of it and pulsed a bright white across the depths of the ocean.

  “We'll head in there. But, whatever you do, don't exit the craft. They are under the same protocols as your starbase. They are not to see the occupants of a Starhawk,” said Kalista.

  “Is my race really that dumb not to question such a strange code of conduct?” questioned Chase. “It just seems so preposterous.”

  Kalista chuckled. “Don't ask me how unintelligent your race is. You're all pretty stupid if you ask me. And the chemicals we put in your water doesn't help any.”

  Devon frowned. “Yeah, we read about those ‘dumbing down’ chemicals.”

  “I visit so many starbases in so many different systems that I forgot what reason we give the inhabitants of Starbase Matrona to explain why you aren't ever to see a Starhawk pilot's face.”

  “So many systems?” asked Devon.

  “Too many.” Kalista shifted in her seat.

  “What is this base's reason?” asked Chase. “I suppose they're just stupid too?” he said, knowing being stupid took a lot of brainwashing.

  “This base’s reason?” She pushed out her lower lip. “Like I said, I visit so many that I don't remember.” She paused. “Well, actually, this one involves some crap about Starhawk pilots bred for these ships and we don't quite look right. Or, was that for Starbase Matrona?” She shrugged. “Don't know, don't care.”

  “You care,” muttered Devon.

  “And here we are,” Kalista announced, ignoring him.

  They entered through a large opening in the looming structure, bringing them to a square docking bay large enough for a Starhawk. The bay door closed and the water level quickly lowered, eventually draining completely.

  In the middle of the wall was a tow winch with the metallic wire spooled around a spool frame. It was a simple design, and obviously did its job well. The suction released and the rest of the line fed into the spool frame. The wall slid upward and light flooded in.

  A man wearing clothes similar to Star Guild military attire waved them onward, and Kalista flipped a few switches on the ceiling above her. The Starhawk shifted and moved forward on a yellow track and into a large holding bay that housed many other crafts of the same type, though many more foreign to Devon and Chase. They came to a stop and Kalista saw Chase staring at odd looking rigs and even stranger looking ships.

  “Those are for deep sea excursions. We mine all over this planet, drilling into underwater caverns and mountains. It's dangerous, but there are only a few accidents a year. But a year cycle here is much different than what you're used to. So, compared to your year and the amount of accidents you guys have on Lumus, well, there really isn't any comparison.”

  “What do you mean?” inquired Chase.

  “You have a few accidents and deaths a
year in your world's mining operations. This planet has the same amount per their year, but this planet has a longer, wider arc around a central sun. Your planet, Lumus, well...” she shrugged and then concluded, “its year is like Gaia's.”

  “I've heard of Gaia. That's where we're from, right?” asked Devon.

  A man, looking much like Admiral Byrd, tapped on the window. He held a box of some type, then motioned toward the back of the Starhawk.

  “Our food is being delivered. I'll get it.” She unstrapped and walked out of her seat, almost pushing Devon over. She gave him a look. “If I'm coming through, it's wise to move.” Her temper was quick to appear, but seemed to vanish just as quickly.

  She knelt down by the cargo door. “We have these handy package delivery systems. They place the food, or whatever else I'm asking for, through a little panel in the back of the Starhawk, and...” As if on queue, a ping sound announced the delivery. “Most importantly, they don't see me.”

  She grabbed the package and returned to her seat. She sniffed and smiled. “These people sure know how to cook.”

  The smell of fresh food made Chase's mouth water. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. Maybe a day ago? Has it been a day? Has it been two days? He didn't know how long he'd been out of the infirmary.

  Kalista handed Devon a plate of food. He sat cross-legged between Chase and Kalista's chairs, then set his food on his lap. The presentation was beautifully arranged, with garnishes on top of mashed potatoes and gravy. On the side of the plate, and almost falling off, were a dozen long green plants with skinny stems, steaming from heat.

  “What's this?” asked Devon, pointing to one of the green plants.

  Kalista answered with a mouth full of food. “Asparagus. Eat it.”

  On the other side of the plate were red, thick bulbous plants. “And what's that?”

  “I forget, but good too. Eat it.”

  Chase took a bite of the mashed potatoes and gravy and grunted with appreciation. Pointing at the many people busy in the holding bay, fixing ships, swabbing the deck, or giving orders he asked, “So, these people have a longer year than us?”

  “Their year is about five of your years, and they live longer and don't need those generating pod-things that you guys have,” replied Kalista.

  “Those 'pod-things' are called Suficell Pods and they work miracles,” responded Chase, taking another bite of food.

  “To our dismay, I might add. Well, not to my dismay, but Lien-L didn't plan on having such things in your starbase. That was created by a Knights Templar agent ...we think.”

  “I thought it was created by our scientists at the beginning of our race's history,” said Chase.

  “Nope,” replied Devon, his mouth full of food as well.

  “How would you know?” Chase asked.

  “Kalista is correct. A Knights Templar agent slipped Suficell Pod plans to one of our scientists.”

  “That's what I thought,” said Kalista. “No way could you all have thought up Suficell Pods on your own, especially with what we put in your water.”

  “What exactly is in our water?” asked Devon. “Like I said, we read a little bit about it, but I don’t know anymore than that.”

  “Chemicals...stuff. I'm not a scientist and I don't pay attention to that kind of stuff. They put chemicals in your water to dumb you down, to narrow your frame of thinking, and to keep you controlled. We do that with your food as well.”

  Chase dropped his fork on his plate, his meal not so appeasing anymore. “Why are you telling us all of this, anyway? Won't you get in trouble if they find out?”

  “It's the end of your race's cycle. I don't see any harm in telling you now since your race will be eradicated very soon.”

  Devon hung his head. “I've tried to stop that...for so many years but I didn't really know what I was trying to stop.”

  Kalista gave Devon an odd look. “There isn't any stopping it. It's inevitable.”

  Chase pointed over his shoulder at Devon. “He was a famous painter and apparently placed predictions in his paintings to warn us of what was to come. Some things did change though, right buddy?”

  “Not enough.”

  A fist banged on the window and the mechanic gave a thumbs up, giving them the go-ahead.

  “That was fast,” remarked Chase.

  Kalista cracked her knuckles and rolled her neck around. “The retractable chip was damaged. Replacing that probably took a minute. You guys ready?”

  Devon nodded and sat back down on the bench seat.

  Kalista turned on the engines. “The guy who pounded on our window was wearing a hybrid outfit. Kinda odd.”

  “Hybrid outfit?” questioned Chase.

  “Yeah. Hmm.” She buckled up. “Get your restraints on. We're going home.”

  Devon strapped in. “You're taking us back to Starbase Matrona?”

  “No. I don't have time for that. We're heading for Iburun.”

  “Why can't you just drop us off at Matrona? We'll cover for you. I'm pretty high up,” said Chase.

  The Starhawk quivered and a long cable tractored them out into the docking bay. The wall shut behind them and the bay began filling with water. Kalista put her plate on the ground between the chairs and turned on her HDC. She pressed some buttons and the Starhawk unhooked from the cable. The door opened and the vast ocean reached out in front of them. Kalista sped forward, exiting the Underpost structure. Again, the dolphins surrounded their ship with their enigmatic smiles and playful leaping.

  Kalista mumbled under her breath as she maneuvered the ship, “Who was that guy?”

  Chase heard her mumble but didn't pay any attention. He was too captivated by the view: the colorful fish, the dolphins, and the plant life surrounding them.

  “You remember Payson?” asked Kalista. “Well, he was a hybrid, but he was trained in Special Ops. Most hybrids are undercover agents, doing dirty work, but not too dirty that you'd really ever know.” She gasped as the realization hit her. “No!”

  “What?” asked Chase.

  “I don't know who, perhaps Y'taul, but you've been ratted on. And, if you've been ratted on, then I've been ratted on.” She pressed several more keys on the HDC so she could view the outside of her craft. “I'm looking for some changes on our Starhawk.”

  At first she didn't see anything. “If we can see any heat changes that may help, but —” She smashed her fist in the side of her chair. “Damn! They put some extras on the bottom of my Starhawk.”

  Chase wrinkled his nose, his pulse increasing. “Like what?”

  Her face became grim. “It's a device. Probably a bomb.” She stopped the Starhawk and it slowly bobbed in the water, as if hovering, yet still staying submerged. “I'm guessing we only have a few minutes.” She jumped up and hurried toward Devon, who was sitting on the bench seat. She pushed him out of the way and pulled out her box of tools, then grabbed a thick wedge. “Who is going to volunteer to knock the device off the Starhawk?”

  Devon fidgeted uneasily. “How do you know the device is a bomb?”

  “I know bombs. I'm certain.” She handed the tool to Devon. “Here. I'm scared sick of water. You do it or...we die.”

  ∞

  Admiral Diana McCoy sat in her office, figuring out the most tactful way to get off this planet—a way for all the people on Starship Sirona to leave without running into any foul play—if that was possible.

  Simply turn on the engines and blast out of here, she thought. I can explain things later.

  She had felt oppressed for so long, as if she'd been in an internal prison within her own body, her own thoughts. Guilt tugged at her daily and kept her awake most hours, stealing her sleep.

  She had taken orders from an invisible man for years—a man who finally showed himself the other day. He was massive, charming, and mean all over. Everything about him screamed tyrant.

  “Lien-L,” she said aloud, shaking her head. How could he have convinced her to do what she did? She reminded h
erself that before the attack she thought she was doing the right thing for her race. But after the attack, and witnessing the devastation, she felt wrong—evil, in fact—and spent many nights in the bathroom throwing up, heaving the demons out. She may have saved her race, but she had participated in the killing of most of her people. To her knowledge, millions had perished—almost all on Starbase Matrona and all of Star Guild had died. How could I have been so easily conned?

  She turned on her com link, accessing the engine room. “Ready engines on my mark.”

  “Admiral,” said a woman's voice over the com link. “This is Engineer Sandra Johnson. We don't have engines online.”

  “They are.” And always have been.

  “I'll check.” There was a long pause. “They aren't operational, Admiral.”

  “Just a moment, Sandra.” Diana pulled up her HDC and the holographic screen appeared over her desk. She punched in the access codes to the engines in order to bypass the false orders keyed into the engine HDC units. It was a simple bypass, changing the NO encoded into the engines to a YES to make them remember how functional they really were. For a week the engineers had been pulling their hair out trying to figure out why the engines wouldn't come back online no matter what they did to correct the situation, and this simple code, purposely hidden from them, was all they needed.

  She glared at the screen in front of her, seeing two colored boxes. The box with a NO was highlighted in red. The box with a YES was highlighted in green. She pressed the YES box to bring the engines back on line, expecting the box to turn a brighter green.

  The color didn’t change. She pressed it again, and for a second time, nothing happened.

  “What's going on?” moaned Diana.

  “Excuse me, Admiral?” questioned Sandra.

  Diana pressed the YES box a third time, but no change.

  “I'll get back to you, Sandra.” She turned off her com link and stared anxiously at the screen. Why isn't it allowing me to change the command?

  She pressed the box a fourth time, but the same response occurred—nothing.