First Contact (Galactic Axia Adventure) (9 page)

“As an added precaution, we can position the newer Albert drive ships where we are most likely to encounter fleeing Red-tails cornered by the other ships,” the aide added.

“I like that idea,” she agreed. “Go ahead and issue the necessary orders. The longer we delay the change, the greater our risk of being discovered before we’re ready.”

“Yes ma’am.” The aide turned and left, making mental notes of the best way to draft up the new orders. The commander watched him walk toward the comm station and then turned her attention back to the holographic display.
He’ll make an excellent tactician someday.

∞∞∞

To Delmar’s surprise, graduation from survey school proved to be a rather simple affair. An assembly of all the students in the school was held once a month. It was during the next one of these that Delmar and the rest of his class were called forward onto the central platform.

After they’d assembled on the stage behind the school commander, he called each student forward to receive their graduation certificate. As he handed each their graduation documents, the commander also announced their accomplishments and specialties. Delmar felt like he was in a dream when his name was called. He vaguely heard the commander give a brief summary of his record.

Of the forty-seven survey graduates, eighteen had also qualified in the flight school as either pilots or captains. According to Axia protocol, new captains not only received their full license and captain plate, but they also received a fine quality sword. Although it seemed strange to some in this modern era, Delmar remembered the history behind the weapon.

“In the close quarters of a ship, often a blaster is too strong of a weapon,” the instructor had taught. “Although a blaster or other energy weapon may take out your enemy, it can also damage the ship, killing you just as dead as the one you shot. The answer turned out to be the sword. Deadly even to a Red-tail, it will only scratch the paint of vital equipment.”

After he’d returned to his place among the other graduates of his class, Delmar noticed that there was an additional note attached to his certificate. It instructed him to meet the next morning with the other flight-qualified graduates to receive their ship assignments.

Upon completion of the ceremony, the commander led the student body in a round of applause for the graduates and then dismissed the assembly to a reception in the school cafeteria. Feeling alone in a crowd of virtual strangers, Delmar found himself staying close to his fellow flight-qualified students.

Expectancy was high among the flight graduates when they met later as the notes had instructed them. Beyond that, there was little more information. They were still talking among themselves about this when their training trooper-first strode into the room and took his place at the front. The light conversation died while they all watched him carefully.

Trooper-First Berlon scanned their faces, knowing the question that was on each of their minds. He’d personally shepherded these students since their arrival on Rodar eleven months ago. Each of their strengths and weaknesses had become well known to him, and he’d tried to help them overcome and conquer their individual fears and doubts. Now they’d graduated and were ready to move on with their lives.

“I’m going to skip all of the preambles,” Berlon began with a smile. “But first I have some interesting news.” He turned and looked directly at Leatha.

“It was discovered that the controls of the trainer you used malfunctioned during your check ride,” he said to her. “As a result, we’ve decided to allow you to retest if you so desire.” Every eyed turned toward the shocked young woman.

“When can I do it?”

“A trainer is ready now, if you’re interested,” the trooper-first answered. “Shall I notify Control to expect you?”

Her grin was all the answer he needed. Leatha started to get up to leave when he stopped her. “Before you leave, I want to ask the rest of you a question.”

Leatha stopped and everyone looked puzzled. “Do you want to go over the subject of assignments now or shall we wait until this afternoon after Leatha’s check ride?” Almost as one the group agreed to wait.

“Good,” Berlon said, stepping out from behind the lectern. “Let’s reassemble at two. Class dismissed.”

Several hours later they were again together in the classroom. Leatha was still looking a bit flushed from her successful check ride. She fingered her new captain’s plate unconsciously. The second check ride had gone much better than her first. Not only did she land smoothly, but she raised her score on the range several notches.

Everyone was congratulating Leatha when Trooper-First Berlon entered the room. They all quieted as he again resumed his place at the front.

“First, I want to congratulate Leatha on her check ride.” Everyone applauded and Leatha blushed. “She also scored eighty-seven on level K-66,” he added. Someone let out an appreciative wolf-call whistle and Delmar looked over at Leatha and grinned.

“Now, on to the ship assignments.”

Berlon immediately had everyone’s undivided attention. “I want to say that you’ve all made me proud. You have done well and not only proven yourselves to me but I hope in your own estimation as well.”

He paused for a moment and then continued.”Each ship assignment has been made taking into full consideration all aspects of your training and experience. The service feels it’s best that an assignment be well suited to the newly minted pilot or captain. Those of you that made pilot this time around may later qualify for a captain’s plate. In that case, you can apply for reassignment to a ship of your own.”

He paused and again scanned their faces. Soon they would all scatter across the galaxy. The moment had come to release them. The trooper-first was finding it difficult.

“From this moment on the nature of your relationship with the service and fellow troopers takes on a new and extended meaning,” Berlon said firmly. “This meeting here and now is the last chance to ask questions, make comments, or address any second thoughts. I open the floor to any and all. Nothing said here can or will be used for or against you in the future. No recording is being made of this meeting to assure that neither you nor the service enter into this new relationship under duress, coercion, doubt or confusion.”

 The trooper-first looked around the room studying the face of each graduate. Satisfied, he continued. “Any comments?” No one spoke up. Instead their faces showed a newfound resolve.

“All of you are to meet here tomorrow morning at 0700 sharp for your new assignment. Tie up any loose ends and make sure your affairs are in order. It is highly likely that some or all of you will be shipping out before end-of-day tomorrow. Dismissed.”

∞∞∞

The translation of the alien transmissions proved easier than the scientists had first expected. The recollection by one of their number had proven correct and what they heard was quite similar to that ancient dialect. By utilizing the audio and written material available from the university library, a quick glossary was assembled.

Using a simple language computer, one of them entered the necessary translation commands into the language protocol program. When the machine signaled it was ready for the disc, he started the player and let it run. Within moments the translation of the alien words appeared on the screen. With the exception of what may have been technical words, the computer had little trouble translating the signals into the primary language of Maranar.

The stunned scientists finished reading the text and looked at each other with complete amazement. “It is obvious from the messages we’ve intercepted that they know about Maranar,” one of them stated. “Do we want to let them know we’re listening?”

Everyone turned toward the most senior of their number.

“I think it’s time we did,” Garret said after a moment’s consideration. “Start working on a transmitter that can reach them. It’s time we knock on their door.”

Chapter Six

Bright sunlight streamed in through the windows of the small lounge where the flight graduates were to meet. Thinking he was early, Delmar was surprised to see most of the group already there. He noticed a small service bar with coffee, juice and a selection of traditional breakfast pastries to one side with a service person helping the other graduates.

“There’s the sleepyhead!” Leatha called out from where she was sitting. Close by were the other graduate captains.

“Told you he’d be late,” Eaton quipped to the others as he grinned at Delmar.

“Give me a break,” Delmar said. “I was up and about in our room half an hour before you were!”

After the graduation ceremony, he’d taken a moment to read through the slip attached to the certificate. Signed by Trooper-First Berlon who had overseen their training, it instructed him to appear here by seven in the morning. Since this was in the middle of the morning meal at the chow hall, Delmar figured he’d come early and report in. Then if his nervous stomach would allow, he’d go grab a quick bite before the deadline. The sight of the service bar was clear evidence that someone else had considered their need for sustenance. Now he’d have time to have a light breakfast and visit with his classmates before the designated time. Grabbing a bowl of mixed fruit along with a meat roll and his usual coffee, Delmar headed over to join the other new captains.

Leatha saw him coming and encouraged the others to make room for the latecomer. Nodding his thanks, Delmar sat down in one of the lounge chairs, placing his food on the end table beside him.

“Are you eager to see what ship they assigned you?” Eaton asked Delmar.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Delmar cautioned as he took a sip of juice. “They’re not going to turn a bunch of rookies loose with a battle cruiser.”

“Speak for yourself,” Leatha shot back. “Me, I’m hoping for some sort of patroller. I want to go exploring.”

“I thought you wanted something with firepower?” Delmar asked.

“Patrollers have firepower,” Leatha replied defensively.

“Picking off Red-tails will give her a hobby while she explores,” Eaton quipped.

“What do you want, Delmar?” Leatha asked. “I know what you said a while back, but now you’re really a captain and that puts a whole different spin on things.”

“I just want something that flies,” Delmar said evasively. “It’s all I’ve wanted ever since I entered flight school. And if it happens to be really fast, so much the better.”

The conversation devolved into a free ranging discussion on the merits and weaknesses of each class of ships. The service had a wide variety of both general purpose ships along with different classes of specialized craft.  Eaton was going into yet more detail about the giant motherships when Delmar noticed that it was almost 0700 hours. Washing down his last bites with coffee, he stood and brushed a few stray crumbs off his uniform just as Trooper-First Berlon strode into the lounge. The other flight graduates stood and the room fell silent.

“All right, listen up,” the trooper-first announced. “We’ll load up and head to the flightline as soon as I call roll.”

Rapidly calling off names took only a few moments. “OK troopers, let’s go,” Berlon called. He turned and led his flock of fledgling pilots and captains out to the waiting ground vehicle. In short order, they were loaded and heading down the field toward the ship holding area.

Generally and without much delay, the personnel transport made its way slowly down the flightline, overshadowed by the bulk of the parked ships. The eighteen flight graduates kept their eyes glued to the windows through which they beheld the ships towering above them. Galactic Axia ships of every description and class seemed to be present. There were many of the smallest one-man patrollers interspersed among huge cruisers and attack ships. A few shuttles from the gigantic motherships were also present. Large in their own right, the shuttles in turn were dwarfed by their assigned motherships. Capable of holding hundreds of smaller ships within their docking bays, the motherships were waiting in orbit like small planetoids.

Going from one ship to the next, the ground transport dropped off the new graduate pilots at their assigned ships. The trooper-first got off each time and made formal introductions between the new pilots and the captain of their new duty assignment. Though many larger ships would employ several pilots to meet their shift and duty requirements, Delmar noticed that the transport only dropped off one pilot graduate per ship then the transport would head off to the next ship on Berlon’s list.

Finally, only the graduates that had qualified as captains were left onboard. The transport had been reasonably full with all eighteen flight graduates, but now there were only the four new captains and Trooper-First Berlon.

“All right, take us over,” he said to the transport driver. The driver grinned and engaged the vehicle’s drive. The vehicle accelerated down the flightline toward an area far beyond the regular landing zone. This area was unknown to the graduates as it was far from their normal training field. They came around one of the large service hangers and there before them sat a row of new patrollers of a class none of them had seen before. The trooper-first motioned and the transport driver pulled up to the first one and parked. They all got out and then the trooper-first spoke.

“These ships are of a new experimental design,” he announced. “They are designated officially as FAR, Fast Attack-Reconnaissance, and they’re equipped with all the latest survey sensors. They’re also powered by the new Albert drive in addition to the regular bed-springs system.”

The graduates looked with awe at the sleek black ships. Trooper-First Berlon consulted his note pad. “This one is yours,” he said to Waldon. The young man gasped in disbelief. “Your access codes have already been entered into the security equipment.”

Waldon walked nervously over to his new ship and hesitantly touched the sleek black skin. As he reached to activate the hatch, Berlon warned, “Don’t activate any equipment aboard until you’ve been checked out on it by the orientation examiner,” he said to the group as a whole. “After you’re signed off, you’re free to lift-off and operate the ships. A portion of the training area out past the firing range has been set aside for you to become familiar with your ship’s flight characteristics.”