by Ryk Brown
“But would not an alliance with the Dusahn protect us from that expansion?” Miss Donti suggested.
“It would not,” Nathan replied.
“How can you be sure?”
“I cannot,” Nathan admitted. “But I am sure of several things. The Dusahn have no respect for human life. They have no respect for the rights of others. They wiped out an entire civilization simply because the representatives of that civilization failed to show the Dusahn leader the proper respect. I have personally witnessed the Dusahn wipe out all life on Lawrence, simply because a small force, one that had never made an aggressive move toward the Dusahn, had the potential to be a threat. They did not attack that military force exclusively, even though they could have easily done so. They glassed the entire planet. Only a couple thousand escaped, and they are now under the protection of myself, and the Karuzari. So, you see, Miss Donti, the Dusahn, just like the Jung from which they came, cannot be trusted.”
“If that is the case, then what would you have us do, Captain Scott?”
Jessica smiled from off camera. Hia Donti had set Nathan up perfectly, and without even being asked.
“Ally yourselves with the Karuzari,” Nathan said. “Help us drive the Dusahn out of the Pentaurus sector, and out of this quadrant of the galaxy.”
“That’s an awfully big request,” Miss Donti said. “Especially from a people who have enjoyed peace for so long.”
“Indeed it is,” Nathan agreed. After taking a breath, he continued. “I was once a student of Earth history,” he explained. “One of my favorite quotes, from long before the bio-digital plague nearly wiped out humanity, and sent us fleeing to the stars, was this: ‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.’ You see, Miss Donti, it is easy to say that peace is the answer. It is easy to believe in the goodness of humanity. But the truth is, humanity is an ugly beast, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting and the weak. Peace, like that which Rakuen has been lucky enough to enjoy for all these years, requires effort. It requires those good men to stand ready to respond when humanity shows its dark side. Your Gunyoki were once those good men, and likely still are. But if they fail to respond to such an obvious threat, your peace will be lost, and it is always more difficult, and more costly in lives, to take that peace back again. That is why I am here, and that is why I have challenged the Gunyoki. My intent is not to mock them, but to inspire them to do exactly what they were designed to do…to rise up and meet the danger that looms on their horizon.”
Miss Donti was silent for a moment. Unfortunately, like the seasoned journalist she was, she changed direction, catching Nathan off guard. “Captain Scott, everyone once believed you were dead. In fact, many witnessed your burial on Earth, which, I might add, was an open-casket ceremony. Can you explain how that is possible?”
“Quite easily,” Nathan replied, without missing a step.
No, Jessica thought. She even started shaking her head from off camera.
“My body died on the Jung homeworld, but only after my consciousness, memories, and everything that makes me Nathan Scott, was copied into a holding device to be transferred later into a clone of my original body.”
Seasoned journalist or not, Hia Donti appeared stunned. “Are you saying you’re a clone?”
“My body is, yes.”
Oh……my……God, Jessica thought.
* * *
“He did what?” Deliza exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her seat.
“I’m sure he had good reason,” Yanni insisted, trying to calm his wife down.
“Why is everyone so worried?” Vladimir wondered.
“I don’t understand,” Abby said. “What’s made at this plant?”
“Jump shuttles,” Yanni told Abby. “It’s probably Ranni Enterprise’s biggest revenue stream.”
“It’s our only revenue stream, now that the Dusahn have taken over the Pentaurus sector,” Deliza reminded him. “If we lose that plant, how are we going to continue to fund the Karuzari?”
“He will win,” Vladimir insisted.
“We have plenty of credits in reserve,” Yanni reminded her.
“That’s not going to go as far as you might think,” Deliza warned. “A few months, at the most.”
“I believe the Captain’s logic is sound,” General Telles commented.
“You think betting our only revenue stream is a sound one,” Deliza said in disbelief. “Where are we going to get shuttles if we lose the plant?”
“While your shuttles are a very efficient design, they will not win this war for us,” General Telles stated. “Besides, they are not free. You still have to pay for them.”
“I’m telling you, he will win,” Vladimir repeated.
“I’m not following you,” Cameron admitted.
“If Captain Scott loses, we can still purchase whatever shuttles we need. But even if he loses, as long as he does well, he will likely win the respect of many on Rakuen. While it may not sway public opinion enough to choose to openly support us, it will likely bring us quite a few volunteers, quite possibly even a few Gunyoki, as well. And if he wins, then at the very least we will get twelve warships that, once fitted with jump drives, will be quite formidable against the Dusahn.”
“Are twelve Gunyoki worth risking our only revenue stream?” Abby wondered.
“Is no one listening to me?” Vladimir wondered. “Nathan will win.”
“Deliza’s assessment of her ability to fund this rebellion is correct,” the general admitted. “However, if we have not beaten the Dusahn by then, it is quite probable that we’ll no longer be alive, and thus the lack of funds will be of little concern.”
“Why do you all have such little faith in him?” Vladimir demanded to know. “Nathan would not have made such a challenge if he did not believe he could win!”
Everyone became quiet, staring at Vladimir, since it wasn’t like him to yell in the middle of a meeting.
“How can you be so sure?” Cameron asked Vladimir directly.
“I have played poker with Nathan, many times. He never bets more than he can afford to lose. And the more he bets, the more likely he is to have a very good hand. Nathan must have a card up his sleeve to bet this much.”
“I would have to agree with Commander Kamenetskiy’s assessment,” General Telles announced. “It is in line with Nathan’s character, and his tactical style.”
Cameron looked at Loki. “You know more about these races than any of us. What does Nathan have to do to win?”
“Basically, he has to win a minimum of four matches to get into the final round,” Loki explained.
“What happens in the final round?” Deliza wondered.
“First, the number two and three ships battle it out. The victor then faces the number one ship to determine the winner of the event.”
“What do you mean by ‘battle it out’?” Cameron asked.
“The first two rounds are a race course laced with targets you have to take out while trying to beat the other guy to the finish line,” Loki explained. “In the third and fourth rounds, those targets start shooting back, which means you have to use your shields to avoid taking damage that costs you both time and points. But in the final rounds, you are flying the course, trying to take out automated defenses that are firing at you, and you have to fight with the ship you are competing against. At the end of the course, the two ships are vectored away from each other, and then back to meet head-on in the dogfighting arena, where they ‘battle it out’.”
“Is it dangerous?” Abby wondered.
“Very,” Loki replied.
“I heard the Gunyoki used low-power weapons,” Deliza said.
“Compared to the ones used in actual combat, yes,” Loki confirmed. “But there is still plenty of risk. Someone is injured in nearly every event, and a Gunyoki pilot dies at least once every season.”
“That’s the whole point of it,” Josh added. “They’re trying to simulate actual combat, including
the threat of death. It’s exciting as all hell.”
“Not my idea of entertainment,” Abby commented.
Cameron sighed. “I’d feel more comfortable if Josh was doing the flying.”
“Thanks,” Josh said, “I think.”
“You know what I mean,” Cameron insisted.
“That’s why I said thanks… I think.”
“It’s not like he’s going to be completely on his own,” Loki pointed out. “It takes two to operate a Gunyoki fighter; a pilot and a weapons operator. You are also allowed a controller, and a tactician, both of whom are in communication with the flight crew throughout the race. Captain Scott asked me to be his weapons operator, and Josh to be his controller.”
“Who did he want as his tactician?” Cameron wondered.
“General Telles,” Loki replied. “I brought all the data about the Gunyoki races, including ship specs, course layouts, targets and defenses, and the details of every race flown over the last twenty years. I also brought several books on Gunyoki combat tactics. I figured we’re all going to need them.”
“Us all?” Cameron asked.
“He also needs support crew. Technicians, computer programmers and engineers, mechanics… Our fighter will take damage during the race. Someone has to be able to fix it before the next heat, or we will be disqualified.”
“I’ll pack my things,” Vladimir announced.
“He wants Marcus, Dalen, and Neli to come, as well,” Josh said.
“They’re still working on the Seiiki,” Cameron said. “They’re installing stealth emitters on her.”
“Who’s bright idea was that?” Josh wondered.
“Mine,” Cameron stated.
Josh just shut up.
“How long before they’re finished?” General Telles asked.
“Three days,” Vladimir replied, “if we get more of my people to help them.”
“It will take us five days to get the fleet moved all the way to the Rogen sector, and then to Rakuen ourselves,” Cameron explained. “As soon as they finish with the Seiiki, we’ll have them take her to Rakuen ahead of us.”
“That’s going to be cutting it close,” Loki warned.
“Can’t be helped,” Cameron stated. “I don’t like the idea of the Seiiki sitting on deck, half-finished.”
“I guarantee you that Marcus doesn’t like it,” Vladimir added.
* * *
“My body died on the Jung homeworld, but only after my consciousness, memories, and everything that makes me Nathan Scott, was copied into a holding device, to be transferred later into a clone of my original body.”
“Are you saying you’re a clone?”
“My body is, yes.”
Lord Dusahn pressed the remote, pausing the playback as a sinister smile came across his face. “This just came in?”
“From one of our informants on Rakuen,” General Hesson replied. “It was broadcast just a few hours ago.”
“And when is this race to take place?”
“In seven Rakuen days, my lord. Approximately five point seven Takaran days.”
“Barely enough time to get one of our ships to the Rogen sector,” Lord Dusahn surmised.
“Can we afford to take such a risk, my lord?” General Hesson wondered. “The Gunyoki are formidable fighters, and the Rakuens have more than five hundred of them.”
“Can we afford not to take the risk?” Lord Dusahn said. “If Nathan Scott will be racing in the Rogen system, then surely the Aurora will be nearby. To rid ourselves of both, or better yet, to capture them… We would then stand unopposed, free to take over the entire quadrant.”
“While I see the logic of your plan, and I do feel its temptation, I am obligated to remind you that our forces are hard-pressed to maintain control over the worlds we have already seized. I also feel obligated to point out the danger of making an enemy of the Rakuen, especially before we are able to add to our forces.”
Lord Dusahn thought for a moment. “Transfer twenty heavy fighters from my ship to the Jar-Morenzo, then dispatch her, and four gunships to the Rogen sector. Position them within striking distance of Rakuen.”
“The Jar-Morenzo is slower, and will barely have enough time to make it to Rakuen,” General Hesson warned.
“You are the one who is worried about risking our forces in the Rogen sector,” Lord Dusahn reminded the general. “Would you prefer that I send one of our newer ships? The ones better able to defend the Pentaurus cluster?”
“The Jar-Morenzo may not have the firepower to defeat the Rakuen, my lord.”
“They do not need to defeat the Rakuen,” Lord Dusahn told him. “They merely need to defeat the Aurora, and kill, or capture, Nathan Scott.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Marcus!” Vladimir called from the bottom of the Seiiki’s cargo ramp. He was holding a duffel bag and pulling a cart full of various tools and technical equipment.
“He’s under the port side,” Neli replied from inside the cargo bay.
Vladimir dropped his duffel and parked his cart, bending over to look underneath the Seiiki as he moved around to her port side. “Marcus!” he shouted again, spotting a pair of stout legs hanging down from an opening between the port engine nacelle, and the main body of the ship. “Marcus!” he called again as he moved closer.
“What?” Marcus replied, his voice muffled by the compartment around him.
“I need to tell you something.”
Marcus lowered himself down, obviously annoyed. “If you’re coming to tell me that I have to finish upgrading the Seiiki on my own, I already know.”
“You do?”
“Josh was by ten minutes ago,” Dalen said as he climbed down from the topside of the ship.
“You are not angry at me?”
“At you? No,” Marcus said. “You’re not the one who decided to do something as stupid as challenging the Gunyoki to a race. Now, Nathan? Him, I’m angry at.”
“I have assigned four more engineers to help you. They are young, and somewhat inexperienced, but they learn quickly,” Vladimir promised. “Just try not to scare them.”
“No promises,” Marcus grumbled as he worked.
“Marcus…” Vladimir scolded.
Marcus squatted down low, turning to look under the fuselage at Vladimir. “What the hell are you still doing here?” he barked. “Go and keep Nathan from killing himself already!”
“I’ll see you in three days!” Vladimir said as he turned to depart.
“No you won’t,” Dalen declared. “Cuz we’ll be all stealthy and shit.”
Marcus stood back up, inserting his upper body back into the underside of the ship. “Most likely, we’ll be in pieces…about six or seven of them, I’d guess.”
Vladimir scurried out from under the Seiiki, grabbing his duffel and tool cart again, and headed quickly toward the Reaper waiting fifteen meters away.
“Finally!” Deliza declared as Vladimir approached. “What took you so long?”
“I had to gather a few things,” Vladimir replied. “Put all this in the aft bay,” he instructed one of the deck crew.
“Yes, sir.”
“Everyone’s aboard,” Deliza told him. “We were just waiting for you,” she added, leading him to the side hatch just aft of the forward port engine nacelle.
Vladimir waited for Deliza to climb up into the Reaper, and then climbed in himself. “Bozhe moi,” he declared as he looked inside. The interior was nearly full. Deliza and Yanni were sitting opposite the door. Next to them was General Telles, along with four Ghatazhak soldiers, all of them dressed in civilian attire, but looking just as deadly and serious, as usual.
“Button up back there!” Loki yelled from the cockpit.
Vladimir pressed the button to close the hatch, then turned to sit down. “You’re coming with us?” he asked, spotting Abby in the seat next to his.
“Since you’ll be dealing with new technology, I thought you could use a physicist,” Abby said, her voice dripp
ing with sarcasm.
“Oh, wonderful,” Vladimir replied in similar tone.
* * *
Nathan and Jessica stood in front of the Gunyoki Museum. The building was dark, like every other building at the waterfront. “It’s closed.”
“No kidding,” Jessica replied. “Everything’s closed. The driver must’ve thought we were crazy to come down here this early.”
Nathan turned to look out across the vast ocean on the other side of the street. The Rakuen sun had just started to rise from the watery horizon, sending shimmering reds and oranges across the cresting waves. “This is where the message said to meet him.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t a prank?” Jessica wondered. “The old fart could be sitting at home, laughing.”
“If he’s still at home, he’s probably sleeping like everyone else,” Nathan surmised.
“That’s what we should be doing,” Jessica agreed, peering through the windows into the dark lobby. “Wait, someone is coming.”
Nathan turned to look in the window as a young man came to the front doors from deep within the darkened lobby of the museum.
“Captain Scott?” the young man asked as the doors opened.
“There’s no way you’re the guy we’re supposed to meet, right?”
“No, I am not, but I will take you to him.”
“He’s here already?” Jessica asked, surprised.
“For some time now. If you will please follow me.”
“Well, someone’s an early riser,” Jessica said as she and Nathan entered the museum, following the young man.
They crossed the dimly lit lobby, entering the main pavilion on the other side. The pavilion itself was massive, and contained many different fighter spacecrafts, each of them hanging from cables attached to the ceiling, poised at differing angles of display as if they were in flight and maneuvering. A maze of winding walkways rose from the floor of the pavilion from various points, each of them rising up and snaking around and between the various ships, providing views from every imaginable angle.
