by Ryk Brown
“Actually, I baited him,” Nathan corrected.
“What?” Jessica couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“I thought the Ghatazhak were supposed to be calm, and collected,” Nathan commented. “Oh, yes, ‘there is still much work to be done,’” he said, mimicking General Telles.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“If you’d calm down for a moment, I’ll explain it to you.”
Nathan’s calm demeanor only frustrated her more.
Nathan noticed Jessica looked like she was about to explode. “Take a breath, and listen,” he said calmly. “Please…… I can make it an order, if you’d like.”
“Don’t push it,” she snapped.
“Have a seat,” Nathan suggested.
Jessica stared at him for a moment, then sat as he had suggested.
“I started the entire premise by saying the Gunyoki couldn’t even stop me.”
“What?”
“Think back,” Nathan said.
Jessica thought for a moment, trying her best to recall the evening’s events as best she could. “So, you’re saying it was your idea all along?” she asked, still skeptical.
“Well, to be honest, I don’t think I really had a race in mind when I made that statement,” Nathan admitted, “but it quickly became apparent that it was the best way to get our hands on some of those fighters.”
“But you bet the Ranni shuttle plant,” Jessica reminded him. “You’ve never even flown a Gunyoki. You’ve never even seen the cockpit. There’s no way you can outfly one of them.”
“I’m a better pilot than you realize,” Nathan insisted.
“Oh, come on, Nathan…”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“We need those shuttles. Within a couple months, we can have about a dozen of them…”
“We’re not going to defeat the Dusahn with Ranni shuttles, Jess,” Nathan insisted.
“We’re not going to defeat them with twelve Gunyoki’s, either,” Jessica argued.
“But we can get both.”
“And how do you propose to accomplish that?”
“By winning,” Nathan replied.
“Got a better plan?”
“Those shuttles aren’t free, you know. There are material and labor costs involved in creating them. If I win, we get twelve Gunyoki fighters, and a few pilots and maintenance specialists to teach us how to use them. And, we still get the shuttles.”
“And if you lose, which I’m pretty sure is the most likely case scenario here…”
“Then we still get the shuttles, but at a slightly higher price,” Nathan explained. “And who knows? Yokimah might even give us a price break out of respect.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Don’t you see? The risk is very small, and the reward is potentially huge for us.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” Jessica said. “You could die.”
“It’s a race around a preset course, with automated defense pods firing low-power weapons. I wasn’t kidding when I said I read the accident histories from the Gunyoki races. Most of those pilots died because they were too proud to punch out, and tried to recover control of their ships. I’m not that stupid.”
“Are you sure about that?” Jessica questioned, still not impressed. “I think you should get Josh to fly against them instead.”
“No, it has to be me,” Nathan insisted.
“Why?”
“For the same reason you and Telles pulled me into this,” Nathan explained. “To inspire others to join the rebellion. If I fly against the Gunyoki and win, I’ll earn the respect of not only the Gunyoki and the Rakuens, but probably of everyone in the sector. These people may have heard of me, but they have never really been affected by my actions. This will change that. I will become their legend, as well.”
“And if you lose?”
“As long as I don’t lose by much of a margin, it will likely have the same effect. They’ll respect me for trying, and coming close to beating them.” Nathan looked at her, smiling, waiting for her to see the beauty of his reasoning.
Jessica just smirked and said, “I think some of your brain got left behind in the cloning chamber.”
The door chimes sounded. Nathan turned toward the door as the automatic, embedded view screen on their side of the door activated, showing Josh and Loki standing on the other side in the corridor. Loki had his usual look of concern, while Josh looked excited about something. “Open,” Nathan instructed.
The door swung open, and Josh came bursting into the room. “Oh, my God! You’re going to race the Gunyoki! Are you nuts?”
“How did you know?” Nathan wondered.
“It’s all over the Rakuen nets!” Josh exclaimed. “Every media outlet is talking about it. The forums, the news, the race nets, everyone! It’s going to be huge!”
Nathan looked at Loki as if seeking confirmation that Josh wasn’t blowing things out of proportion, as usual.
“They’re saying it’s going to be the biggest race in over a century,” Loki confirmed. “Tickets are already selling like crazy.”
Nathan looked at Jessica.
Jessica smirked. “Yup, played him right into your little trap, didn’t you, slick.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nathan and Jessica followed the man in the official Gunyoki Combat Racing Association jacket, through the GCRA headquarters on Rakuen. They had been summoned early in the morning, and the GCRA had sent an airship to the hotel’s rooftop landing pad to pick them up.
“What’s this all about?” Jessica asked the man they were following.
“I am sorry, but I’m afraid I really do not know,” he replied. “I was simply instructed to escort you from the landing pad to the committee chambers.”
They continued following him down the long corridor that crossed over the main lobby. The corridor was a clear, enclosed tube, passing between tall, four-story walls of transparent aluminum. At the far end of the corridor was a set of double doors, each adorned with the GCRA logo. Once they reached the end of the corridor, the doors swung open automatically, revealing a large meeting room. In the center of the room was a massive conference table able to seat at least fifty people. Around the perimeter of the room were three more tiers of seating, bringing the capacity of the room into the hundreds. Finally, on the walls hung the Gunyoki banners, similar to the ones that had hung everywhere on the Gunyoki racing platform.
“Welcome, Captain Scott,” the man at the far end of the table greeted as he bowed. “I am Master Chiisun, leader of the Gunyoki. I believe you already know Mister Yokimah,” he added, gesturing to the man on his right.
“A pleasure, sir,” Nathan said, bowing. “Mister Yokimah. Allow me to introduce my tactical officer, Lieutenant Commander Nash.”
“An honor, Lieutenant Commander,” Master Chiisun replied, bowing to her, as well.
“An unusual title, ‘master’,” Jessica commented. “What does it denote a mastery of, if I might ask?”
“I am a master of the Gunyoki Arts, having dedicated my life to the ways of the Gunyoki.”
“Then, you’re like the master of all of them?”
“No, I am one of sixteen Gunyoki masters. In my current position, I oversee all GCRA operations and events. That is why I have asked you here today. We have much to discuss.”
“Of course,” Nathan agreed.
“Please, be seated,” Master Chiisun instructed, taking a seat himself. “This morning, we were informed of the challenge that has been made by you, and accepted by Mister Yokimah.”
“It wasn’t really a challenge,” Nathan said. “It was more like a statement of opinion.”
“Perhaps, but an invitation was made by Mister Yokimah for you to prove your statements through action, specifically to engage in a combat race with a Gunyoki.”
“Captain Scott’s statement was that the Gunyoki could not even stop him,” Mister Yokimah stated. “This infers that Captain S
cott was challenging all of the Gunyoki, not an individual pilot or ship.”
Master Chiisun looked at Nathan. “Is Mister Yokimah’s understanding of your meaning correct, Captain Scott?”
“It is,” Nathan admitted. “However, I meant no disrespect, Master Chiisun. I was trying to make Mister Yokimah understand that the Gunyoki are no match for the Dusahn, whom I believe will eventually invade the Rogen system, just as they have invaded the systems of the Pentaurus cluster.”
“Your intent is to get the Gunyoki to help you fight your battles,” Mister Yokimah stated.
“My intent is to secure allies in my fight against the Dusahn,” Nathan explained, “so that all the human-inhabited worlds of this quadrant can be free of the Dusahn, and any other threat which may come their way.”
“The Gunyoki do not fight the wars of others,” Master Chiisun stated plainly. “The Gunyoki exist only to protect Rakuen. They were formed during the Water Wars of our forefathers, and have remained a viable deterrent for many would-be aggressors for centuries. I would be inclined to agree with Mister Yokimah’s assertion that the Gunyoki are capable of defending Rakuen, should the Dusahn make the mistake of attacking our world.”
“With all due respect, Master Chiisun, I believe you are overestimating the capability of your defenses,” Nathan warned. “That is the reason I made the statement, and that is the reason I chose to accept Mister Yokimah’s wager.”
“Which brings us to this meeting,” Master Chiisun stated. “The Gunyoki Council cannot sanction a dogfight between an outsider and a Gunyoki, unless you choose to attack Rakuen, of course.”
“I would most certainly prefer not to,” Nathan assured him.
“There is another way for you to settle your wager, however,” Master Chiisun continued. “While the Gunyoki Council frowns on the idea of turning over twelve Gunyoki warships to someone not of Rakuen, those warships are the legal property of Mister Yokimah, and we have no authority to stop him from turning them over to you, in the unlikely event that you should win them. However, we do control all Gunyoki operations within the Rakuen system. The only way we can see for you to fulfill the obligations of your wager is as an entrant in the upcoming Gunyoki races.”
“You want me to fly a Gunyoki?” Nathan questioned. “Uh, I was thinking that I would fly one of our ships…perhaps one of our fighters.”
“Was not your assertion that the Gunyoki lack the skills one can only attain in actual combat?” Mister Yokimah reminded him.
“Yes, but…”
“If this is the case, then you, as someone who has been in actual combat on numerous occasions, should have an edge, even in a ship with which you have little experience.”
“But I have no experience in a Gunyoki,” Nathan replied. “I only saw them for the first time a couple weeks ago.”
“The point Captain Scott was trying to make was that superior weaponry and spacecraft is ineffective when operated by warriors without combat experience,” Jessica explained, “and that someone with such experience could beat the Gunyoki with lesser weapons.”
“If that is the case, then giving the captain a weapon of equal capability should improve his odds,” Mister Yokimah argued.
“Not if he’s never flown one,” Jessica countered.
“Perhaps, if Captain Scott was given some instruction, and some experience?” Master Chiisun suggested.
Both Nathan and Jessica looked at Master Chiisun. “What?”
“Not all of the Gunyoki racers are corporate teams such as Mister Yokimah’s,” Master Chiisun explained. “Many are independents who are either privately funded, or have managed to gather some sponsorships. All they need to compete is a Gunyoki ship that meets the requirements, the entry fee, and the ability to successfully complete a qualifying run.”
“I have no such ship,” Nathan replied.
“I would be more than happy to loan one to you, Captain,” Mister Yokimah offered. “I’ll even provide you with a maintenance chief to show your people how to maintain it.”
“I know nothing of the Gunyoki racers,” Nathan pointed out.
“I can provide you with an instructor, as well,” Mister Yokimah added.
“No doubt some second-rate, washed-up…” Jessica stopped when she felt Nathan’s elbow in her side.
“I assure you, Lieutenant Commander, that I will provide the best instruction available,” Mister Yokimah promised. “After all, I wouldn’t want it said that Captain Scott did not lose fairly, and of his own accord.”
Jessica glared at Mister Yokimah, taking offense to the arrogant smirk that accompanied his last statement.
“If this is not acceptable to you, Captain, the Gunyoki Council is willing to disapprove the challenge, thus saving your honor,” Master Chiisun offered.
Nathan looked at Mister Yokimah. “I thank you for the offer, Master Chiisun, but that will not be necessary, especially considering Mister Yokimah’s gracious offer. I would be honored to compete in the Gunyoki races.”
“You still have to qualify, first,” Mister Yokimah reminded Nathan. “That, in of itself, will be quite an accomplishment.”
“Are you sure about this?” Master Chiisun asked Nathan. “The Gunyoki train for years before entering the races. You will have only days.”
“A challenge, to be sure,” Nathan admitted graciously, “but one I am willing to face.”
“You are aware the Gunyoki face, and fire, live weapons?” Master Chiisun asked.
“I am.”
“Very well, the challenge is approved,” Master Chiisun stated. “Mister Yokimah, you will make available a Gunyoki racer, in good operational condition, and a chief mechanic to tutor Captain Scott’s team in its maintenance. Furthermore, you will provide him with a flight instructor of the highest caliber. All of these things must be made available to Captain Scott as quickly as possible.”
“I will see to it personally,” Mister Yokimah said with a smile.
Master Chiisun turned to look at Nathan. “You are either a very brave man, or a fool, Captain. Either way, I will be quite interested to learn which.”
“Me, too,” Nathan said under his breath to Jessica.
* * *
As expected, Suvan’s first day on the job had consisted of orientations and safety seminars, as well as a general review of the operational plan to paint the Teyentah’s hull with her final primer coat. During all of this, Suvan had quickly concluded that the paint boss, Tor Asken, took himself entirely too seriously. However, Suvan knew he was lucky to have gotten this far. Had he arrived on Takara even a week later, he might have missed this phase, and would not have gotten hired. Applying primer to the outside of the ship did not require any special talent, as everything that wasn’t covered got painted the same.
But now, Suvan faced a new challenge as he wandered through the crawler bay looking for the hatch that led to his assigned unit, crawler four four two. Unfortunately, they were rarely in any logical order, as the digital displays above each hatch simply showed the identification number of the crawler that was attached to it on the other side.
Suvan had spent hours studying the crawler operations manual the night before, as he was expected to already be fully qualified to operate the tiny vessel. While the flight mechanics were basically the same as any spacecraft, its control inputs were quite different. Crawlers, when flown, were controlled entirely with the operator’s feet, not a flight control stick and throttle. Although the models in use on the Teyentah were fully automated, and could get anywhere on the ship’s surface with simply the push of a button, experienced operators rarely used automation on the job. Suvan needed to do the same, so as not to raise suspicion. He had already received a few double takes from passersby who thought they recognized him. One man even asked his name, sure that he had seen his face somewhere before. The gruff facial hair and more common hairstyle, Suvan had been cultivating since the Dusahn first invaded, was helping to disguise his identity, but it was not enough. Only seven yea
rs had passed since the exile of House Navarro, and the subsequent expungement from the rolls of nobility, so there were still people who remembered the Navarro name, as well as Suvan’s face, many of them former citizens of the Navarro lands.
Four four two. Suvan stopped and turned toward the hatch, pressing the control panel. The hatch slid open, revealing a cramped airlock only a meter square, and two meters tall. Suvan stepped inside and pressed the button on the interior control panel, causing the inner hatch to close behind him. A moment later, the outer hatch opened, revealing the backside of crawler four four two, a meter away.
Suvan leaned forward and pressed the control pad on the crawler’s hatch. There was a small hiss of pressurized air, after which the small hatch swung upward coming to rest against the ceiling of the stubby little tunnel, connecting the airlock to the back of the crawler.
Suvan stepped into the tunnel, feeling the artificial gravity disappear as he left the airlock. There were camera’s everywhere, and Suvan needed to look like he knew what he was doing. As he had rehearsed the night before, Suvan grabbed the rail suspended over his head on the inside of the hatch, pulled his feet up to form his body into a ball, then swung forward, inserting his feet through the tiny hatch and down into the bottom of the crawler. Once his feet were inside, he hooked his toes into the control pads and pulled himself slightly downward by bending his knees as much as the confines of the crawler’s interior allowed. Bending at the waist and neck, he passed his head and body through the hatch, thankfully not hitting his head on the upper edge of the hatch, a sure sign of an inexperienced crawler operator.
Once inside, Suvan immediately activated the hatch, causing it to close behind him, sealing with another hiss of pressurized air. Once closed, the hatch formed the crawler’s seat and backrest, allowing Suvan to properly secure himself to the unit. He quickly scanned the console, checking various buttons and switches according to the prestart checklist he had memorized the night before. Satisfied that the previous operator had shut the crawler down correctly, he turned on the master power switch and began the short startup routine.
