OMEGA Exile (13 page)

Joni shook her head as she offered a mild laugh. "I guess. I just see this step as one more towards escalating the violence in this sector. Are they going to arm all the detective ships? Will we suddenly be the political enforcers for anyone who sympathizes with the Free Alliance? I just see this as an indication that things are getting worse and not better."

I raised portal transfer on the comm. We soon found ourselves being swept through several portals before stopping just outside SS22 and the new Theta shipyard. As instructed, we proceeded to a docking bay and made our way to a section of the shipyard that would be our home for the next month. After stowing our gear, we made our way to the local lounge.

A waitress came to our table.

"The lady will have a Human beer, and I will have a Trellion freeze."

Joni spoke. "OK, first of all, we don’t call it a Human beer, we just call it a beer. And a freeze? What’s up with that? Seems kind of froufrou for a Grunta. I would have expected a hard liquor for someone who looks so big and tough."

I smiled. "We Grunta like our foods spicy and our drinks either hot, such as our coffee, or frozen, such as what I ordered. I don’t see how that is an affront to my masculinity."

Joni laughed as a pink freeze showed up with a paper umbrella. "If you think that is a masculine drink, then I don’t know Grunta very well."

I removed the umbrella and turned up the large, frozen concoction, emptying my glass in two swallows.

Joni raised her eyebrows. "How do you not get brain freeze from that?"

I replied, "Brain freeze? I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about."

Joni shook her head. "Well, I guess if you can guzzle them like that, no one is going to accuse you of being effeminate. Your manliness is secure."

After several hours in the lounge, we each returned to our quarters for a night’s rest. As with all nonplanet establishments, day and night schedules were maintained on a twenty-four-hour standard Earth time. Universal time, as it was called, was synchronized through all five galaxies.

In the morning, we grabbed a quick breakfast and a cup of coffee, and we next made our way to the simulator room, where a Navy captain was waiting to give us training. "The accommodation for your dog is a first, Miss Salton. We don’t see animals out here on the base unless they are on a plate and smothered with gravy."

Joni looked down at Raptor. "He won’t leave my side, Captain. You put gravy on him, and he’s either going to eat your face or be your friend for life. I couldn’t say which he would choose."

The captain laughed. "He looks like he might be a little tough to chew anyway."

The captain then looked up at the rest of the class. "I see we have eight of you in this month’s class. Good. I’ll be splitting you into teams of two for the first week. You will be held responsible for the success of your teammate. Yell at them, scream at them, beat them about the head, within reason of course, just do whatever it takes to get them to remember the day’s lessons. In a week, we will switch teams and go through the same lessons again. At week three, for those who pass the initial qualifiers, you will move on to the individual training."

I looked around the room and raised my hand. "Captain, my partner and I are detectives. Are any others here of that profession?"

The other trainees chuckled as the captain leaned forward on his desk. "You two are a special project. If you noticed, using your
detective
powers of observation, the others in this room are all in uniform. This is a military training facility, Mr. Beutcher. These men and women are military officers and pilots, captains waiting on their first ships. When their training is complete, they will be flying their new vessels through a portal gate to the Andromeda galaxy."

Joni spoke. "We have a gate large enough to send a fighting ship through to Andromeda?"

The captain looked directly at Joni. "I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of such a gate, Miss Salton."

Joni raised her hand in question. "You just stated they would be going through a portal gate."

The captain winked. "You are a quick one, Miss Salton. I can see that I will have trouble getting anything past you in this training."

The other trainees again chuckled.

I stood and looked around the roomful of Humans that I towered over. "Captain, all that we ask of you during this effort is that we be treated with respect and allowed to train as the others. Our fight and efforts here at home are as important as those out in Andromeda."

Two of the trainees swapped comments under their breath.

I continued, "Over the last few months, Miss Salton and I have been witness to the destruction of a destroyer and the capture of a freighter loaded with cesium by the Free Alliance. It was my partner and I who freed the 128 crewmen of the destroyer who had been taken prisoner and who were destined for some distant slave auction. It was my partner and I that were witness to the terrorist bombing of the portal gate on SS5. It was my partner and I who, just last week, risked our lives to capture an assassin who had just killed two of our scientists."

I looked around the room. "I believe the two of us have seen more live combat than the others in this room."

I looked down at the man sitting next to me. "Have you ever taken a life? Fired at a live, breathing target that was shooting back at you?"

The man sat silent.

"I didn’t think so."

I turned back to face the captain. "Captain, I would urge you to add a course in humility and respect to your list of things to be taught during our stay. You send these men out there with arrogant attitudes, and you are sending them to their early deaths. When they die, they will take all the crewmen under their command with them, along with anyone else on their vessel."

The room was silent for several seconds before the captain sighed and raised his hand. "You have my apologies, Mr. Beutcher, you and your partner both. We pilots do have a tendency to be cocky and arrogant. It has been found that officers with those traits coming into training make the best pilots. It has also been found that those who learn humility and respect for others are far better leaders of men. So, if you are agreeable to it, I would like to do a reset with this class and begin anew."

I nodded and Joni grinned as I sat.

The first week of course work went by quickly. There were no squabbles, no divisive remarks or critical remarks about others. My speech on the first day had gained the common respect that I had sought out from the others. The captain who had been assigned as my partner was a hard worker and convicted in his desire to learn all that he could. He was also one of the officers who had been snickering about our being detectives.

As the first week ended, he held out his hand for a shake. "I apologize, Mr. Beutcher. All that at the start of class—it was arrogant, I was arrogant. This is the first time I have had to work directly with a non-Human. I thought we were the only ones who were really patriotic. The other species I have known have always had those little differences about them that made me think that we were very different. What I have learned this week is that it doesn’t matter if we are green or have six eyes. What matters is how we conduct ourselves in life. If I somehow manage to make it back from Andromeda, I would be honored to one day call you friend."

I took his small Human hand in my own and shook it. "Likewise, Captain Perkins. And for what it’s worth, I hope you all return from Andromeda. I’m going to need someone to wax my ship when I’m in port."

The captain stood silent for several seconds and then smiled. "Huh, all week long and not a joke out of you, and then
bam
, you take me down a notch. Who knew Gruntas had such a sense of humor."

The instructor stood before the class and called for our attention. "This is the first class where all trainees passed the qualifier after the first week. We have moved more than sixteen thousand pilots through here in the last four years. You should be happy with your progress. And Mr. Beutcher, I want to thank you for that motivational speech on the first day. I will be using parts of that to inspire future classes."

I nodded as the instructor continued, "Mr. Beutcher, I understand that you and your partner are a team on a single ship. Your remaining training will be conducted as a team effort. You will be staying here with me. The rest of you will move on to begin work with your individual instructors. Best of luck to all of you. And remember, everything you learn here can and will be used out there, so do your best to grind it into your skulls. You are going to need it."

As the others left, I said, "You really need to work on your inspirational speeches, Captain. They are much more likely to retain these lessons if you send them out of here charged up, rather than with a warning."

The captain nodded. "Duly noted, Mr. Beutcher. After your speech, I went back and took a look at your record. Impressive, to say the least. I took the liberty to put in a request to the Admiralty that you be evaluated to be an instructor here. Captain Perkins has been telling me all week how easy you made things to learn. He was blown away by your simplistic and yet effective organizational as well as communication skills. Those are the marks of a great instructor."

I replied, "I am humbled by those remarks, Captain, but there is much for me to do in the Alpha sector. And I have Miss Salton here to watch after. She has a tendency to get into trouble if left alone."

The remark earned me a punch on the arm. "Don’t listen to him, Captain. I’m the one who has kept him from getting us either maimed or dead."

The captain held up his hand. "I see we have a sort of symbiotic relationship going here, so let’s see if we can put that to use with a training course on a simulator. The simulator we will be using has been modified with the same enhancements that are going into your ship. It should be ready for us in the morning. I took a look at the specs, and all I can say is wow. You will be flying a ship that could easily be on the front lines of the war."

Joni replied, "I thought we were just getting updated shields and an ion cannon. What have you seen?"

The captain waved his hand. "Come on, let’s go take a look at her. She’s in Dock-77. It’s a short walk from here. Unless you had somewhere else to be?"

Joni shook her head. "We can eat later. I want to see her."

We followed the captain to a long viewport hallway that ran the length of Dock-77. The
Daunte
was there, covered in scaffolding, with her exterior plating removed.

The captain pointed. "You can see right along there on the right and left sides of the fuselage, they are reinforcing the framework to support the two ion cannons that will go there. They are the newest models, an order of magnitude more powerful than what was on that destroyer the Free Alliance destroyed.

"Over here, you can see they are adding in a second reactor/generator. Your ion drive is being upgraded to military grade, as is your nav system. Your commercial main computer is faster than our military one, so it will remain as it was. If you look at the new hull plating they are uncrating on the end down there, you can see the difference in thickness from these old stacks over here. You should be able to take several direct hits from our best cannon before she cracks.

"You will be losing about two cubic meters of interior space. They removed several of your galley cabinets. Other than that, you shouldn’t notice any difference. One last improvement they are making deals with your steering thrusters. You should have top-notch maneuverability while in atmosphere. When they get her back together, she will be one impressive ship. Most of us veterans here are a bit jealous."

"Those cannon pods," I said. "—will they be visible from the exterior? Are we going to look like a gunship?"

The captain shook his head. "Fully integrated into the hull. The amplifier tips are even hidden until they are armed. From the outside, you will look like any other ship of that model, only slightly larger because of the thicker plating. Unless you are sitting side by side with another ship of your class, no one will know the difference."

We thanked the captain and continued to the cafeteria for our evening meal. Joni had a plate of leafy vegetables, something Humans called a salad. I had a plate of steamed Perrion lizards.

My last meal of Perrions had been several years before. I complimented the military cook on his preparation and presentation. Joni scowled as I peeled the skin from each lizard, and winced as I dipped them in a spicy hot oil before raising them to slide down my throat.

"I have had dinners with many species at family political functions, but I have never been witness to something so revolting. They almost look like they are still alive!"

I laughed. "They are alive. The steam blanching only stuns them so they are easier to handle. They are wiggling in my gullet as they go down. It is a delightful sensation."

Joni frowned and shook her head, repulsed. "Please don’t tell me any more, or I’ll be spewing my salad all over this table."

I nodded.

The following morning, I met Joni in the hall, and we walked the five hundred meters to the simulator room. The captain was waiting as we walked through the door.

"Great," said the captain. "Come right over here and have a seat. In front of your chairs you will see an immersion helmet. Put it on and fasten the strap. Other than having a slight bobble-headed feel, you should be ready to start your training. And Knog, sorry about your helmet. I know it’s not the best fit, but it was the best we had. Almost every pilot we have had through here has been Human. Other than a handful of Igari, I haven’t seen any other species. Your helmet was made for a Human with a really big head."

Joni laughed.

As the helmet powered on, an image of the captain and the room in front of us lit up. My helmet was a snug fit, but fully functional.

The captain said, "Strap yourselves into your chairs. They will be moving as we go. It will add a bit of realism to the simulation. Now, for your helmet controls, you can adjust focus, brightness, and audio volume. Take a few minutes to find the settings you are comfortable with."

After a minute of fiddling with the controls, we were ready. The captain powered up a small box in front of us and then donned a helmet of his own.

The captain flipped a switch. "First, we will take a quick virtual tour around the ship. Just lean your head slightly forward to move forward and back to stop or move backward. Side to side will give similar results. Slowly lower yourself and gently spring up in your chair to simulate a jump in the air. I want you to walk around, jump up on top, crawl, get in as many movements as you can until you get a good feel for maneuvering while in the virtual environment.

"We won’t be using movement for much of the training, but it does come into play during several scenarios. So, unless you want to be flopping around during some heated missions, you will want to have good control of the environment."

We moved around, over, and under the
Daunte
for twenty minutes before the captain waved us around and up the ramp-way.

The captain continued: "Walk around inside, get familiar with the new layout of your galley, and finish up by sitting in your chairs. We’ll power up the ship’s systems and take her out of the dock for a little run. After that, we start the training scenarios."

The first day’s scenarios were simple recon runs. Fly out, gather intel, and fly back. On the second day, we got into a minor skirmish with two small enemy ships. Even though the ships outmaneuvered us, our defenses and firepower were superior. I managed to disable their engines as Joni kept us in the fight. On a similar scenario, we switched positions, resulting in a similar outcome.

On each successive day, the forces we encountered grew in number and capability. By the end of the week, we were scheduled for a run-in with an enemy battleship.

After flying out to meet our adversary, an immense ship came up on our nav screen. "Captain, I’m not a military man, but that ship looks a lot like one of our own. How are we to distinguish our ships from theirs?"

The captain replied, "Unfortunately, in the early part of the war, they captured many of our ships intact. There were many who surrendered without a fight. In much of this war, we have been fighting against our own ships. You will find some modifications, but most will be largely intact. The enemy doesn’t like to put their own ships on the line. It makes friendly fire a much bigger problem."

Joni said, "So, how are we supposed to know if a ship is ours or theirs?"

The captain replied, "All we have to go by is the transponder code and their intent. I will say this up front: you will encounter friendlies in some of these scenarios, so you have to be doubly sure of who they are before you rip into them."

I shook my head. "Doesn’t sound like a good scenario for our troops out there in Andromeda, Captain."

The captain sighed. "You have no idea, Mr. Beutcher. We get told very little about the fights from there, but what we have heard is disheartening at times. We have had at least one instance where two of our own fleets fought each other. Eight thousand men and thirty-six ships were lost before the fighting was stopped. We can’t afford those losses when we are already losing battle after battle.

"As I said, though, we hear very little from the front lines, as there is only one gate going out to Andromeda, and only the occasional command ship comes back through. It’s been six months without a ship returning at all. The portal itself is only open for the transfer, as it consumes a tremendous amount of cesium to power a wormhole of that size for that distance."

"Why don’t we just build more portals?" asked Joni.

The captain replied, "I wish we could. It seems the founders of the AMP created all the portals we have in existence today. Their designs were hidden away or destroyed, and the guts of what makes them work are sealed and protected against tampering. Should a seal be broken, some sort of blast happens that takes out the entire gate complex. It’s not really a blast, so to speak. What really happens nobody knows. The complex will disappear, leaving a massive hole where it once was. The original creators didn’t want us messing with them or creating our own."

Joni flipped several controls on her holo-display. "If you think about it, if the bad guys had access to their own portals, they could bypass all authority with impunity. There would be a complete lack of order. They could pop in, take what they wanted, and leave, without you ever knowing what happened. There are just too many bad possibilities that could happen under such a scenario. I know my uncle has researchers working on portal generators, but they are far from any solutions."

The captain said, "While that may be true on a civilian front, we sure could use ’em in our fight. Having that control would turn the tide of this war and end all the death that it brings. It would bring the conscription we have going now to an end."

Our fights in the simulators continued to increase in scope and complexity. The enemy attacks became stronger and more frequent. Our tactics turned from those of primarily assault to almost nothing but defense. We were becoming proficient in dodging ion pulses and running from a fight that was beyond our ability.

On our final day of simulations, the captain powered on the equipment and spoke. "I have taught you everything I know to teach. Miss Salton, I would like to say that you are as good as any pilot we have had through here. You always keep your cool, and your decision making has been some of the best I have ever witnessed.

"Mr. Beutcher, you have been just slightly better than average, which is a good thing. You show a boldness and willingness to do whatever it takes to come out on top. Miss Salton can fly, but you have a great command of tactics. That comes to only a few pilots naturally. I think the two of you will make a formidable team out there in the
Daunte
.

"In this last scenario we are about to undertake, you will be placed into a simulation of an actual battle that took place only eight months ago. Your ship will be taking the place of one of the last ships to survive. Of the one hundred thirty-two ships in the fleet, only seventeen of ours made it out. I’m sad to say, this battle is one of our best showings against this enemy."

When the simulation began, a star system with four planets came into view on the nav screen. We received the order to follow nine other ships to the last planet in the system. It was distant from the star and blue-green due to its methane atmosphere.