by Lucy Snow
I sighed as I opened the door and stepped into the corridor, neatly sidestepping the young soldier rushing past my door at that very moment. “Sorry sir,” the solder quipped, turning to salute before keeping on his way. I growled in response but said nothing.
All around me as I hurried toward the bridge, other Kreossians hurried along their own paths, the buzz of the ship as the crew went about their business echoing in my ears. I was used to this, of course, after spending most of my adolescence and short adulthood on ships like these. One felt like a small cog in a giant machine, but nevertheless each cog was critically important to the continued survival of everyone on board, and by extension, the survival and progress of the entire Kreossian Empire.
It felt good to have purpose, to have a reason to wake up in the morning. Most Kreossian split that purpose between a mate and the empire. For me, no split had ever been necessary.
The bridge loomed in front of me as I rounded a corner in the corridor. Checking my uniform in the shiny wall that everyone did their part to keep clean just for that very purpose, I breathed in deep and stepped forward, feeling the same rush I felt every time I stepped onto the bridge.
Kaalax would no doubt dress me down for being late, but I knew that Kaalax would quickly forget such misdemeanors and soon they would be deep in conversation about the upcoming ‘conference’ with this new race, these Humans.
As I entered the bridge, I looked to the right and saw the ship’s substations, each manned with a Kreossian intently staring at their console, pushing buttons and issuing commands through microphones to other parts of the ship. It was no small task to keep a gigantic machine, a home for all these Kreossian and their mates and children, and a bulwark against the empire’s enemies, all running in top order, ready to fight or render aid at a moment’s notice.
And this was the flagship of the fleet, too. Everyone stationed on this ship was the best of the best that the Kreossian Empire had to offer, and they all were kept aware of that fact. The Kreossians brooked no lapse in effort nor tolerated failure well; if someone on this ship wasn’t pulling their weight, they were very easily replaced the next time the ship pulled into a base for refitting.
The thought of that alone was enough to keep the crew on highest alert. It was a huge honor to serve on this ship, and everyone knew it.
I looked left, past the tactical station where the weapons officer stood, scanning the surrounding area for any possible lurking enemy ships. The Mazon did not venture out this far very often, but the Kreossians had learned to practice eternal vigilance by now.
I expected to see the reproachful gaze of Kaalax staring back at me, but Kaalax was nowhere to be found on the bridge. The second officer sat in the command chair, and grunted when he turned around to see me there. “You’re late.”
“Where is Admiral Kaalax?”
“He’s in the gymnasium. Where you were supposed to be,” the second officer paused, looking down to consult the ship’s chronometer, “15 minutes ago.”
Shit, that was right. Kaalax wanted to meet him this morning in the gymnasium for a workout before we left for their diplomatic ‘mission.’ The shuttle we were to fly was tiny and cramped, not nearly enough space for a Kreossian warrior to stretch out and enjoy himself.
“I will go there at once.” I turned to leave, but the second officer grunted in my direction again, and I turned back.
“That’s a good idea,” the second officer said, adding, “the old man also told me to tell you that you’re late.”
“You said that already.”
“He wanted me to say it again, to convey just how displeased he was.” The second officer laughed and turned back to the main view screen, ignoring me and once again concentrating on keeping the flagship moving along toward its destination.
I said nothing as I stepped back into the corridor had hurried back to my room to change. It would do no good to show up in the gymnasium with my regular uniform on.
A few minutes later, as quickly as I could shuck my uniform and pull on my workout clothing, I ran into the gymnasium, finding it empty at this time of morning except for Kaalax.
The sound of the door opening alone must have alerted Kaalax to my sudden presence, for Kaalax whirled around and snarled in my direction as the door closed behind me.
“Computer, seal the gymnasium doors.”
“Sealing the gymnasium doors,” the computer, through its hidden speakers, said to no one in particular. One second later, it played a confirmation chime. “Gymnasium doors sealed.”
“What is the meaning of this?”
Instead of replying with words, Kaalax calmly walked to the left side of the gymnasium, picked up a long blade from its case, hefted it in one hand, and threw it at me.
I knew instantly that it was not meant to wound or kill, and caught the blade as it came my way, snatching it out of the air with practiced ease. By then, I saw, Kaalax had chosen another similar blade, and was walking back to the center of the gymnasium.
Once there, he set himself in a combat stance and beckoned me forward with his off hand, before curling it around the hilt alongside his main hand. Kaalax closed his eyes and I thought I could hear an audible sigh coming from the older man. Kaalax opened his eyes and said one word: “Come.”
I stood there, taking the entire scene in. The whitish-gray coloring of the gymnasium, my own blue workout clothing, and Kaalax’ yellow gear. Time slowed down, and neither of us moved as we stared each other down.
I tensed up, feeling the adrenaline rush all throughout my body. Moments like these were what I lived for. In contrast, Kaalax stood in peace, like a stone before the waterfall, undisturbed and completely motionless. I looked on in wonder as Kaalax closed his eyes and kept them that way.
The man wouldn’t even give his enemy the respect of looking at him in combat? Was that how little he valued my achievements on the battlefield? Was that how weak he thought I was?
The rage boiled over in my veins and with a bellow, I charged forward, at once at full speed, closing the distance between us so quickly the air in between them seemed to slice into my skin where it was uncovered by my workout gear.
As I flew forward, I raised my sword above my head, ready to bring it crashing down on the venerable Admiral Kaalax’ head. Briefly, I wondered what the consequences would be for killing the leader of the Kreossian Empire’s fleet operations in single combat in the ship’s gymnasium, but dismissed these thoughts right away. The Kreossian prized strength and courage above all else - I would be lauded, and given my rightful place, in charge of the Kreossian Empire’s military. A rank befitting my achievements if not my years.
It was an unnecessary thought, I soon found. Just as I jumped up, directly in front of Kaalax, shouting as I came downward, blade swinging down from overhead to cut into Kaalax’ left shoulder and slice deep into the bone, probably killing him instantly, Kaalax opened his eyes.
He did a lot more than just that. Faster than I could see, Kaalax’ blade flew up, a perfect block, countering my attack and sending a bone-jarring concussive blast back through my sword, painful enough that I had to fight to avoid dropping it.
But Kaalax didn’t stop there, taking the advantage, noting how disconcerted I looked and clearly felt, leaning back to kick his protege out of the way. I weakly blocked, trying to stay close and avoid Kaalax’ sword, which was tough to use effectively in such close quarters, but Kaalax quickly spun around and extended his sword, still in both hands, slicing into my shoulder and drawing green blood spraying out onto the pristine light gray floor.
Both of us paused, a sword length apart, both looking at the blood gleaming on the floor. Kaalax held his sword out between them; I, defenseless, let my sword hang at my side.
We locked eyes, I heaved as I struggled to regain control of myself, Kaalax still the picture of tranquility as the air filled with the smell of my sweat.
I roared as I charged forward again, trying to catch Kaalax off balance yet again, and
yet again I failed, my left cut meeting Kaalax’ perfect counter and being turned to the side. Then we fenced back and forth, each moving forward and driving the other back.
I gritted my teeth and pushed forward, trying to drive Kaalax off balance, but Kaalax might as well have had 5 legs, he was so stable. I felt myself tiring, and cursed my lack of sleep, my lack of enough time in the gymnasium training on this voyage.
It was no wonder I hadn’t practiced and trained hard enough. This was to be a diplomatic mission - no combat on the horizon. The humans certainly wouldn’t put up much of a fight even if the meeting fell apart and things came to blows. Kreossian research suggested that one Kreossian warrior could easily handle more than a dozen humans in hand to hand combat, and even their ranged weapons were weak.
They had only barely stepped into space, dipping their feet into the great sea of stars when the Kreossian had found them and lifted them up, leaving the plans for them and watching them flail about with them for 50 years from afar.
I felt my concentration slip just a tiny amount, and Kaalax noticed it too, pressing his momentary advantage, swinging his blade at an odd angle.
I had to throw myself off balance to block, and the force of the screaming connection between the two blades lifted me from my feet and threw me to the ground.
I grimaced as I looked up at the advancing admiral, no signs of familiarity on his face, the admiral’s blade still out in font as if he intended to finish off his helpless prey. I tried to lift my sword again, but the force of the blows had made it numb, and I couldn’t hope to control it enough to keep the fight going.
Kaalax stopped in front of me, the tip of his sword touching my neck before he lowered it, keeping it at the ready just in case I came at him again. “Get up,” Kaalax growled.
Humbled, I stood up, wiping the collecting blood off my shoulder.
Kaalax, satisfied that I was done fighting, let his sword fall all the way down. “Your eagerness to fight will undue you one day, Ark. You must learn to control that rage or it will be your end.”
Through gritted teeth, I accepted the lesson taught by the master tactician. “Yes, Admiral,” I said softly, chastened by the beating I had just received at the hands of the older man.
“It is not the stronger man who always wins the battle. You are far superior to me in that regard, and yet it is you who yielded to me in the end. How come?”
Kaalax stared at me till I was forced to respond, though I wanted to put this particular bout behind me as quickly as possible. “You were prepared for my attack,” I said, sullenly.
“I was prepared because I thought more than you.” Kaalax held up an accusing finger. “You’re brilliant, Ark, I’ve seen it off the battlefield, in the planning rooms. Your strategies are ingenious, your tactics breathtaking. But when you start fighting, all that falls away, and you fight as if once the feeling of combat hits you all your intelligence goes out the window.”
Kaalax took a breath and brought the point of his sword up, focusing on its tip. “There will come a day soon enough when your strength alone will not be enough to save you. I hope, for your sake, and the sake of the Kreossian Empire’s future, that you have the wisdom to prevail when that happens.”
I hung my head low, glad for only one thing in that moment, that no one else was around to see my shame. “Thank you for the lesson, Admiral.”
Admiral Kaalax grunted. “I’m not sure if you learned anything at all today, but the day is yet young, so we shall see.” He nodded toward the door. “Go and get cleaned up. Meet me in shuttle bay 3 in 30 minutes, we leave for the station immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” I walked toward the door.
“One more thing,” Kaalax said, just above a whisper, when I reached for the door. I turned around, looking back at the admiral and seeing a frail old man standing there, looking somehow smaller than he had just a minute before.
“Yes, Admiral?”
“Don’t ever be late again.”
“Yes, sir.” Kaalax dismissed me with a wave of his hand, and I left the gymnasium, my anger rising again at my poor performance.
I cursed myself as I quickly walked back to my quarters, vowing to spend more time in the gym and never let Kaalax defeat me like that again.
Back in the comfort of my home away from home, I showered, cleaning off the blood from my wounded shoulder, before dressing in my uniform and preparing my travel bag. We expected to be gone from the flagship no longer than a week, but I managed to fit all my things in a small bag. I traveled light, and the ship we were taking could easily produce more uniforms or anything else I might have missed.
Satisfied that I was packed and ready to go, I checked my chronometer and made sure I was standing in front of the entrance to shuttle bay 3 with 5 minutes to spare.
At 30 seconds till the Admiral’s chosen time, I looked up and down the corridor, not seeing anyone heading in my direction. Bewildered, I was about to ask the computer where the admiral was when shuttle bay 3’s door opened behind me.
I whipped around and saw Admiral Kaalax standing in the doorway. “Good, you’re on time for once. Well, don’t just stand there, let’s get moving.” Kaalax turned around and walked deeper into the cavernous shuttle bay, leaving me rushing to catch up behind him.
Once aboard the shuttle, we settled into our seats and began their pre-flight checks. I had come here last night and done the major checks in advance - everything was ready to go.
After we confirmed everything was ready one more time, I eased the ship out of the shuttle bay, accelerating slowly till we put some distance between us and the Draxxes.
Soon we were on their way to the station for the rendezvous. I sat back in my chair, relaxing for a little while despite having the Admiral as my only traveling companion.
“You aren’t thrilled about this mission of ours, are you?” Admiral Kaalax asked from behind me. It was only barely a question, far more of a statement.
I turned my chair around to face the admiral - the automated pilot would keep the ship on course without my direct attention. “Am I that obvious?”
“More than you think, Ark. Do you not believe in diplomacy?”
I snorted. “This isn’t diplomacy. This is child-rearing.”
“Cleverly put. You’re right, of course, but is the adult not able to learn from the child on occasion?”
“Once in a long while, sir. But these humans have nothing to teach us. They’re barely infants compared to us.”
Kaalax nodded. “And yet, we show them the way, like a good parent. We introduce them to what’s next, shield them from what we can, and prepare them to join the Commonwealth.”
“Why does the Commonwealth take such interest in a backward species like this one?”
“For many reasons, not the least of which is that every species that we bring into the fold makes us all stronger and better.”
“And another?”
Kaalax smiled. “Because sometimes recruiting is just as much about denying your enemy a recruit as it is securing them for yourself.”
I laughed. “So these humans are just pawns on our chessboard.”
Kaalax waved away the implication. “That may be the case for now, but I have studied these humans extensively, ever since we decided to make contact. They have a strength, a resilience that I have not yet seen in any other species. The Commonwealth would do better to include them.”
“Alright, Admiral, I am convinced. This is a worthwhile mission. But not for me.”
“How come?”
“I am a warrior, sir, I am here to fight. We are not planning on fighting these humans. Therefore, my presence is unnecessary. I could be better serving the Empire elsewhere.”
