by Ryk Brown
“Immediately.”
“Excellent. Let’s concentrate on trying to establish how many jump-capable ships the Dusahn actually have, and what their performance limits are.”
“We’re on it,” Cameron assured him.
“Very well,” General Telles said, about to conclude their meeting.
“There is one other thing,” Nathan interrupted. “The Seiiki has taken a bit of a beating over the last few days. It’s nothing we can’t fix en route, but it’s a bit more than Marcus and Dalen can handle on their own. Plus, there are a few problems with the additional reactors that your people installed to power our new weapons.”
“What is it you require?” General Telles asked.
“Someone with more skill and experience than my people,” Nathan explained. “Someone who is creative when it comes to fixing, and improving systems.”
“I’m assuming you had someone in mind?” the general replied.
Nathan looked at Cameron. “I was hoping you could spare Vlad for a few days.”
“You want to take my chief engineer?”
“If you can spare him,” Nathan said. “I’m sure he could straighten the Seiiki out. And my guy would learn a few tricks as well.”
Cameron sighed. “We still have a lot of damage to repair.”
“Mostly structural though, right?” Nathan replied.
“Yes, but…”
“Your jump systems are all back to normal, right? And all your weapons and sensors are working?”
“Yes,” she admitted, knowing Nathan was about to get his way. “I’ll check with Commander Kamenetskiy. If he feels comfortable leaving his ship in the hands of his junior engineers, then I’ll allow it.”
Nathan smiled.
“Oh, this is gonna be a fun trip,” Jessica commented under her breath.
* * *
“Our intelligence analysts assured us that the Alliance would not send ships to the Pentaurus cluster,” Lord Dusahn exclaimed angrily, “not while the threat of a Jung attack existed!”
“Their operatives on Earth can only report that which the public has been made aware of, my lord,” General Hesson reminded his leader. “Their military leader is still making public statements emphasizing the seriousness of the Jung threat, and the need to build up their military and take decisive action.”
“Then what is the Aurora doing here?” Lord Dusahn said, thinking out loud rather than asking for a real answer.
“It is possible that the Sol Alliance sent the Aurora without revealing such to the public,” the general suggested.
“The man is vocal about every move he makes,” Lord Dusahn stated. “He wants everyone on Earth to know that he is the one keeping them safe, and not their political leaders.”
“I doubt he shares the disposition of every ship with the public.”
“True enough, I suppose. But the Aurora? The most visible, and well-known ship in the Alliance? To send her, of all ships. Why not send one of his countless gunships? Or a dozen of them? No one would even notice.” Lord Dusahn paced across his office floor, stopping to stare out the window over Answari. “No, that old man is up to something. He sent the Aurora to Corinair for a reason.” He turned back to the general. “Did they find anything in the rubble at that facility on Corinair? What was it called?”
“Ranni Enterprises, my lord,” General Hesson replied. “Owned by the daughter of the late Prince Casimir Ta’Akar, the man who overthrew his brother to regain the throne of his people, and was then assassinated by his own nobles.”
Lord Dusahn closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. “Ah, yes. The young woman parlayed her late father’s holdings into quite a sum, if I remember correctly.”
“Shipping, commodities trading, technological research and development. They even produced a personal jump shuttle that is in wide use. It was later developed into a larger version that is used as a jump-capable passenger transport. We have already captured a number of them. In fact, we believe that it was her personal shuttle that attempted to land during our initial invasion of Corinair.”
“And they came back for something,” Lord Dusahn surmised, his left eyebrow rising. “Something important enough to involve the Aurora, no less.”
“One would think the rescue of more than two hundred prisoners would be enough of a reason,” General Hesson said.
“Perhaps, but did not the reports state that the lower levels of the Ranni building were destroyed?”
“Completely, my lord. And in such a way as to ensure that there would be nothing left to recover.”
“They came to retrieve something from that lab,” Lord Dusahn said. “Something of great importance to them. Something so important that they had to destroy all evidence of its existence.”
“There is the other matter, my lord,” General Hesson reminded his leader. “The leaflets announcing the return of Na-Tan.”
“Nathan Scott is long dead,” Lord Dusahn replied.
“Our people have studied the legend. Nowhere does it say that one individual is Na-Tan. Many believe the term refers to one who would lead.”
“I have read this legend,” Lord Dusahn said dismissively. “They are the ramblings of the poor and downtrodden. We have encountered many such legends in the past. This one is of no more importance than any of the others.”
“But the people of Corinair do believe in Na-Tan,” General Hesson insisted. “Especially since Nathan Scott liberated them from Takaran rule.”
“The Corinairans know that Nathan Scott is dead. If someone claiming to be him does show up, they will brand him an imposter.”
“I am not as convinced of this as you, my lord.”
“You worry too much about the will of the people, and the power of their beliefs, my dear General,” Lord Dusahn said, waving his hand.
“Perhaps our concerns should be with finding the Aurora. If we find her, we will likely find the Ghatazhak as well.”
“A single ship, even one as infamous as the Aurora, does not pose a significant threat to the Dusahn Empire,” Lord Dusahn stated confidently. “To pay her much mind would only demonstrate our lack of resolve in the eyes of those we mean to rule.”
“Of course, my lord,” General Hesson replied, nodding his compliance.
* * *
Nathan jogged effortlessly down the country path. The air held the faintest smell of the tall, green grass flowing in the breeze on either side of the trail. He could hear birds chirping away from nearby trees, and at times he thought he could make out the sound of running water, perhaps from a nearby stream or small river.
A small flash of light appeared, high and to his right, quite distant. A few seconds later, a distant clap of thunder followed. He scanned the sky above and ahead, tracking from side to side, knowing that the ship wouldn’t be where he perceived the sound to have come from. A moment later, he located the small, cylindrical object. Ungainly looking, with no wings. A shuttle of some sort. By the size of it, probably a cargo shuttle. No surprise, as according to the moving map display hovering in the upper right corner of his view, there was a spaceport nearby.
The trail forked ahead, and Nathan decided to take the trail leading left, toward the direction of the sound of running water he thought he had heard. After a few more minutes of jogging, his suspicion was confirmed. The trail turned to follow a babbling brook. Just ahead, water was cascading down a series of rocks, the trail along the brook gradually inclining up the hill.
A few birds seemed disturbed by Nathan’s presence, becoming quite vocal in their warnings as Nathan started up the hill. Probably to hide the sound of the incline motor, he thought. Clever.
The path he had been jogging for the last ten minutes was smooth, as if it were purposefully made that way for public safety purposes. But now, as he star
ted up the hill, the path became uneven, with little gullies where water had carved into the dirt during heavy rains. There was also the occasional buried boulder protruding slightly. Nathan’s pace became uneven, his stride lagging as he was forced to choose his steps more carefully.
The intensity of the workout was increasing as well. Nathan felt his pulse quickening, as well as his breathing. Within a few minutes, he was beginning to sweat. As if on cue, the prevailing breeze picked up, helping to cool him down as the water crashing over the rocks became louder and the incline became steeper and more varied.
Maybe I should have turned right.
Nathan continued upward, feeling the strain on his legs, as well as his lungs. He was amazed at how real the ground beneath him felt, and he made a mental note to watch someone else use this device, so that he could witness the mechanism in action.
Minutes later, he reached the summit, and the trail flattened out. The brook again became calm, its waters smooth. Nathan slowed his pace, continuing on another minute before coming to a stop. He bent over slightly, his hands on his knees to rest, as he caught his breath. He looked from side to side, taking in the oak trees to his left, and the winding brook to his right. He looked up and spotted another craft flying overhead, this time on a departure course. He watched it for a moment, until it disappeared behind a flash of blue-white light, followed by another distant clap of thunder.
“Not bad,” Jessica called from behind him. “Had enough?”
Nathan stood upright. “End session,” he instructed. The view around him disappeared. The trees, the winding brook, the sound of running water behind him, the sky overhead…it was all replaced with the interior of the simulator. Stark white walls that formed a seamless oval wrapped around him in all directions, except directly behind. Even the smell of the green grass was gone.
“Pretty sweet, isn’t it?” Jessica said.
“It sure is,” Nathan agreed, turning around to face her. “I’m assuming they have other routes as well?” he added, stepping down out of the sim and into the Aurora’s gymnasium.
“Oh yeah,” Jessica replied enthusiastically. “Beaches, city streets and parks, mountain trails…you name it, it’s in there.”
“I’m amazed at how the ground really feels like it’s the shape that you’re seeing. I assume the treadmill itself is changing shape beneath my feet?”
“Yup. It’s pretty cool to watch from back here, too.”
“Hop up and give me a show,” Nathan suggested.
“Some other time,” Jessica replied. “We’re here to work you out, not me.”
“Right. Where do we start?”
Jessica turned and led him away from the motion simulator toward an apparatus along the wall next to it. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“It’s designed to practice blocking and dodging during a fight,” Jessica explained. “They call it a ‘fight dummy’.”
“How’s it work?”
“Step back,” Jessica instructed, moving to the side control panel.
Nathan stepped back as Jessica activated the device. One by one, padded fists jutted forth from either side of a central pad that stretched from head height to crotch. Left, then right, then left again. Then a short, padded arm came up from the bottom left, swinging upward like a man’s knee coming up. Then a long arm swung around from the right, at head height, followed by one from the left at mid-chest height. The pattern repeated, with blows coming from all angles, heights, and directions, at a rate of one every three seconds.
“Variable patterns and rates,” Jessica added, turning up the tempo.
Nathan was taken aback, as the machine suddenly sped up its tempo. He laughed as she turned the device off. “You first,” he insisted.
Jessica flashed a confident smile, as she punched in her desired settings. Once finished, she moved in front of the machine.
“Stand ready,” the recorded voice warned.
Jessica raised her hands, closing them into loose fists, positioning her body at a slight angle to the machine and in a ready crouch. “Ready,” she announced.
The machine swung a padded arm around toward her left side, which she immediately countered by raising her left arm. Then a padded fist shot straight out at chest height, and Jessica blocked it by tucking her right elbow in to protect herself, pushing outward to deflect the machine’s jab to her right. Next, another padded arm swung up and inward from the bottom of the machine, headed for her left side. Jessica dropped her left arm down, as she shifted her body slightly right, preventing the arm from touching her body. Then her right hand jabbed the machine at the strike pad located at head height. The machine produced its own surprise, sending a short arm directly forward at mid-abdomen height. On the tip of the arm, instead of a padded fist, was a rubber knife. Jessica brought her left arm up under the padded arm jutting toward her abdomen, while she brought her right hand quickly down, trapping the simulated knife hand between them, knocking the rubber knife out of the machine’s simulated hand, in a way that likely would have broken the wrist of a real assailant.
“Nice moves,” Nathan said, watching Jessica defend against the simulated attack.
Jessica stepped back out of the machine’s reach, as it continued to flail at her. “Increase difficulty, level eight, random pattern.”
The machine stopped its simulated attack. “Level eight, random pattern,” it confirmed. “Stand ready.”
Jessica stepped forward, putting herself within reach of the machine once again, reassuming her combat stance. “Ready.”
Again, the machine began its simulated attack, sending padded arms and fists punching out, swinging around from the sides, and thrusting up from below…only this time at what seemed ten times the previous rate. Jessica responded with grace and calm, blocking every attempt the machine made to land a hit. Jabs to the face, chest, and abdomen. Swings from the outside to both the head and body. Padded limbs coming up from below, seeking contact with her lower body both front and sides. She continued to block every attempt, even disarming several edged-weapons, all while landing several blows to the machine’s padded strike pads, attacks that would’ve seriously injured a real opponent.
“Increase rate of attack,” Jessica instructed as she continued to ward off the machine’s attack.
“Increasing rate of attack,” the machine replied. The rate of the attack increased noticeably, as did both the speed of Jessica’s reactions and the strength of her blows.
With each strike, the machine shook violently. Nathan cringed every time she struck the machine’s padded strike pads, fearing it would become disconnected from the wall and crash to the floor.
Finally, after several minutes, Jessica stepped back, removing herself from the machine’s reach once again. “End session,” she instructed.
The machine stopped its attack, its padded strike arms retracting. “Session ended.”
Jessica turned to look at Nathan, a satisfied smile on her face. She was only mildly panting, and she hadn’t even broken a sweat yet.
“Impressive,” Nathan said. “I hope you’re not expecting me to do that.”
“We’ll start you out at level one,” Jessica assured him. “So you don’t get hurt…too badly.”
Nathan smiled at her. “I appreciate that,” he said, as he took her place in front of the machine.
“Level one, slowest speed,” Jessica instructed.
“Shouldn’t we start out with some resistance training, or something?” Nathan asked.
“Level one, slowest speed,” the machine confirmed.
“Resistance training is to build muscles,” Jessica replied, as she keyed new settings into the machine’s control console.
“Stand ready,” the machine warned.
“Great physical conditioning requires
the use of muscles in real-world motions,” Jessica added, stepping back from the machine to watch Nathan defend. “Besides, this will help me to gauge your reaction times, and overall muscle control, so that we can see how you’re progressing over time.”
“Of course.” Nathan took a breath, then turned to face the machine, stepping forward and assuming a combat position, just as he had been taught back in the EDF Academy on Earth. “Ready.”
Just as it had with Jessica, the machine swung a padded arm around toward Nathan’s left side, which he countered in similar, although less graceful fashion, by raising his left arm. He blocked the next four attacks with relative ease, finding that he clearly remembered the sequence of attacks that Jessica had experienced. However, when the machine failed to produce a rubber knife headed toward his midsection, he realized his memorization of the original attack pattern was now useless and he would have to simply react to each attack without being able to anticipate the machine’s attempts to make contact with his body.
He managed to defend himself with relative ease, although there was nothing pretty about it. After a few minutes, Nathan realized the machine was repeating the same pattern, and his ability to block effectively began to improve.
By the time the machine got halfway through its third cycle, Jessica could tell that Nathan had memorized the order. “You want to speed it up a bit?” she asked, taunting him.
“Bring it,” Nathan replied, as he managed to get a shot into the machine’s head-height strike pad.
“Increase rate of attack,” Jessica commanded.
“Increasing rate of attack,” the machine acknowledged.
The rate at which the machine launched its attacks increased, and Nathan picked up his pace as well. But now, he had the machine’s sequence memorized. He was getting his entire body into action, stepping left, right, forward and back, using his own body momentum to aid in his defense. And he was managing to get a few more blows in as well, striking the machine in the head, chest, and abdomen strike pads, although not nearly with the force Jessica had.
