“Attention. This is your Ship Commander,” came Sobash’s voice. “Just now, the training exercise has been declassified. Crewmembers should check the details through their wristgears as soon as they’re free to.”
Jint heard the announcement, ears pricked up, while lying in bed in his starpilot quarters. He activated his wristgear.
“To summarize,” continued Sobash, “it’s in the flow of things to follow up the navigational exercise with a battle exercise. I believe you’ve all cottoned onto the face that half of our fellow ships aren’t with us. The other six were headed to the Hyde Portal from the opposite direction. Our first assignment was to see which half will reach the Countdom of Hyde first. I regret to inform you we were beaten to the chase.”
Jint leapt out of bed. The details of the exercise were displayed on his wristgear, but they were no longer a priority to read. Closing that file for now, he promptly initiated the procedure to ask permission to enter the bridge, then threw on his clothes as he waited for approval.
“In other words, our ‘enemy’ has already made it to the Countdom. As such, for the second phase of the exercise, we will be the ones attacking them. Do not be upset simply because we lost Stage One. Stage Two is where our mettle will be tested. We are scheduled to arrive at the Hyde Portal in twelve hours. This will cap off this round of training. All hands, rest your bodies in preparation, and treat it as though it’s an actual battle.”
Before the broadcast was over, Jint was already headed for the bridge. He had yet to be granted permission. Around the time he arrived, permission came.
Jint used the one-time-only temporary EM wave crest-key to open the door.
“I’m sorry,” said Sobash as soon as he saw Jint’s face. “We don’t know what’s going on in the Hyde Countdom yet. All we know is that the ‘enemy’ is already there.”
“I see,” he said. He could feel himself deflating. Let’s look at it optimistically. If there was some kind of emergency, the exercise would get canceled. And it’s not, so Martin must be safe.
Sadly, this wasn’t quite enough to assuage himself. What guarantee was there that swatting down a landworld would even register as an “emergency” to the starpilots of the Star Forces?
“I don’t want to be presumptuous, but could I please be allowed to stay here on the bridge until the end of the exercise?”
“Presumptuous? Why would that be presumptuous?” he smiled. “Are you saying you didn’t board in order to view and study the exercise? We don’t mind one bit, naturally.”
“Thank you very much, sir.”
“I’ll have a chair arranged for you. Why don’t you go eat breakfast in the meantime? I’m sure you just got out of bed.”
One hour until they reached the Hyde Portal.
“Ship Commander,” called Rearguard Yatesh. “An inter-bubble communication from the flagship. ‘Send a conveyance ship to conduct reconnaissance.’”
“Reply with a roger,” said Sobash. “Vanguard Ecryua, I’m making you the conveyance ship’s Skipper. Prepare at once to depart.”
Ecryua stood up to salute, and turned heel in a manner strictly in line with military etiquette.
“Mr. Sobash,” said Jint, who also lifted himself from his seat. “Do you mind if I go, too?”
Sobash knitted his brows, but soon he nodded. “I’ll allow it, Lonh-Dreur.”
“You’re the best,” said Jint. He then told Ecryua, “I’m in your hands.”
“I’m just carrying out my mission,” she stated. “I’m not doing anything for you.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I’d also like to come. Can this ship’s conveyance ship only seat two?” asked Lafier.
Ecryua nodded in reply.
“Then I’m out of luck,” said Lafier, before facing Jint: “You had best be careful, and return in one piece.”
“Thank you.”
“Do be careful,” said Sobash. “And don’t forget to pack motion sickness drugs.”
“What do you mean?”
“It might not have been wise to give you permission after all,” he said, assessing Jint’s body. “Your skeletal frame is too brittle.”
“Uh... huh...” Jint cast his eyes at Ecryua. She was as expressionless as always. “Um... Is her piloting style really that...?” he asked Sobash.
“It is,” he said, looking concerned. “I should probably warn you not to go.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m going,” said Jint.
Upon exiting the bridge, Ecryua muttered: “What was the Ship Commander so worried about?”
“Beats me,” answered Jint.
Including the Flicaubh’s, the Blue Team of Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 sent out a total of three conveyance ships.
“Hyde Portal in E-minus five minutes,” murmured Ecryua. “We’re set to split space-times one minute later.”
Guess she’s paying her passenger a little consideration, mused Jint.
The space-scenery was then projected on the surrounding walls.
“Thank you,” said Jint, believing it was another act of consideration for him. He had no frocragh to perceive the vicinity, after all.
“It’s not for you,” said Ecryua. “I just like this view.”
The inside of the space-time bubble was always gray. Their two fellow conveyance ships could be seen amidst the gray, with theirs, the Flicaubh’s conveyance ship, right in the middle. The vessels to the left and right were gradually flying apart from each other.
“Space-time splitting.”
The two ships got swallowed by the wall of gray at separate points and disappeared. The places where they got swallowed shone in rainbow colors. Ecryua looked with fascination at the rainbow shafts of light on either side. And she had every right to — the circular rainbow that manifested when large amounts of space-time particles collided blew the rainbows over the surfaces of planets out of the water. As the bands of light spread, the colors progressively faded, until at last, they became indistinguishable with the gray. But that whole process was breathtaking.
“Hyde Portal in E-minus one. Accelerating.”
“Ah, hold up!” Heeding Sobash’s warning, Jint tried to check whether his seatbelt was securely fastened.
“No.”
The conveyance ship commenced acceleration. Jint’s body dug into his seat. His delicate Lander bones started creaking in short order. He tried to object, but his voice died in his throat.
“Thirty seconds... twenty seconds...”
Ecryua’s countdown was the height of serenity. It couldn’t be clearer this level of acceleration was as nothing to her. On the contrary, she seemed to be enjoying it.
“Ten, nine, eight...” With each passing second, she started sounding more amped.
Oh, she’s enjoying this all right.
“Passing through!” In that moment, she shouted with pure joy.
Suddenly, Jint’s body flew to the right.
In a small corner of his mind, Jint recalled the modest battle he’d been a party to in the Febdash Barony. Lafier’s piloting had been rather more delicate back then, compared to this rough-and-tumble ride.
Thankfully, his seatbelt had been on right. Otherwise, Jint would have been bouncing around the steerer’s room like a rubber ball. At the center of his blood-engorged field of vision was the bow of a giant warship. It was a raid ship, and it was rotating. Jint could tell it was Ecryua’s strange trajectory — he might not have frocragh, but he could still feel the acceleration forces. In fact, Jint had always had a feeling his sense for levels of acceleration surpassed that of the Abh, who were mostly unaffected. Otherwise, why would she be going overboard on this gravity control system-less ship?
The raid ship’s prow drew closer.
We’re gonna collide! he tried to say, but his tongue was no longer cooperating.
Then, as suddenly as it began, his punishment came to an end.
“This ship has exploded. This ship has exploded,” repeated the machine voice, which was even more monotonous than Ecryua’s voice.
“We got hit?” asked Jint.
“Yes. We’ve failed the mission,” she replied, utterly calmly. “So unlucky.”
I dunno, you did get awfully close. I guess it is pretty unlucky that we happened to emerge from the portal near the ‘enemy,’ though, he thought, as he stared at Ecryua. She seemed no different than usual. Was all that in my imagination? When the acceleration halted, he’d heard obscenities the meaning of which a guy like him, who’d learned Baronh in school, only vaguely understood. And even as he sat there in the steerer’s room, he heard the lingering echoes of the bizarre song whose meaning he didn’t understand at all, but through which he could tell she was enjoying herself. There was no way Ecryua could be the one singing that song, was there?
Without exception, Abhs had perfect pitch. And it would be impossible for somebody with perfect pitch to stand such off-key noise escaping their own throat.
“Uhh, so, what’re you gonna do now?” Stupidly, Jint hadn’t considered the possibility they’d get shot down during the recon trek. “Guess we return to the Flicaubh?”
“We’re killed in action,” she declared solemnly. “The dead can’t return anywhere.”
“Then what’ll we do?” said Jint, out of sorts. He’d been planning to return to the Flicaubh as soon as he could after seeing the situation.
“We float here on standby.”
“Just the two of us?”
“Don’t like that?”
“No, it’s not that... you know what I mean...”
“Yes. It’ll be extremely boring.”
“We really can’t do anything besides wait here?”
“What do you want to do?” said Ecryua, cocking her head.
Jint verged dangerously close to saying let me hear that song again, opting instead for: “Can we find out how the landworld’s doing?”
“Only a little.”
“A little’s fine. C’mon, let’s probe the planet.”
Ecryua gazed at him, as though in anticipation.
“Uhh... what is it?” asked Jint, confused.
“Say ‘please.’”
“Huh?”
“You’re being bossy.”
That was when he realized his request had come across as a command.
“Please,” he tacked on.
Ecryua nodded without another word, unequipped the control gauntlet, and began working the controls. The main screen zoomed in on Martinh. Unfortunately, night obscured the hybrid-functionality buildings of the city of Crandon.
The look and feel of the landworld hadn’t changed from what he remembered. It was a globe of ferocious green, covered in specks of white.
A communication piped in: “Calling the spirit world. Greetings to a wandering soul.”
Many Landers believed the Abh were cold rationalists due to their complete lack of religion. Others thought the Abh class system was so held together by unrefined superstition that it may well be called a religion. And, as extreme views tended to be, both takes were false. While the Abh didn’t believe in life after death, they were familiar enough with the concept of the spiritual to mine it for humor.