Kisara

Felix woke me early one morning, with licks to my ears. “They’re decommissioning Concorde,” he said. “Let’s go buy some!”

I’d heard of this supersonic air transport. Twice the speed of sound and a reasonable number of passengers.

“What are you thinking?”

“Not sure yet, but I wanted to try putting impulse engines in one.”

“That would make a nice addition to Alliance Airways.” We had a fleet of medium and small planes that currently focused on local service.

~

Felix had another ship, the Nautilus, a swing-wing airliner/spaceship/submarine that was about the size of something called a “747.” While we flew it to France, we studied Concorde and came up with changes.

“The, what do they call it, ‘droop snoot’? That has to go,” I said. “We’ll replace it with a holosynthetic vision kit.”

Felix agreed. “And while we’re doing the flight deck, let’s replace all of the instrumentaion. I like the steam gauge setup, but let’s have it one of the options for a holo display.”

~

“You want to take them now?” Brian asked, aghast. “You just can’t…we have to arrange for pilots.”

“You’re looking at them,” Felix said.

André’s eyes goggled. “You? But each ship requires at least two flight crew!”

I slipped into “Captain” mode and said, “What ‘cha doing for the rest of the day?”

~

“Brian,” I said, “The single pilot thing is irrelevant. I’m qualified to fly Lindbergh and Nautilus, and I was the chief engineer for a transwarp ship and I’m qualified to fly that. I can fly Concorde!”

~

Once we had the Concordes parked at Black Soil, and Brian and André sent back on a SkyTrain, Felix and I got to work.

“Replicator scanner is set,” I reported once I’d gotten the 3D array in place.

“Energizing,” said Felix, and the first Concorde disappeared.

We created a virtual scale model and got to work.

“We pull the landing gear, put in antigrav, thrusters, and a quantum parking brake. Holo airstairs and elevator, or, no. It should be either close to the ground or on a jetway, so just a set of steps or a ramp.”

I took over for the propulsion system. “Let’s see, we pull out the jets and install impulse engines in that space, no, across the whole trailing edge and replace the elevons and rudder with quantum ion ducting. Solid state eveything…”

~

“Aaand…Compile.”

We watched the ship take shape. It hovered a couple meters above the ground on its geosynchronous parking brake. We stepped up and began our walkaround. When we got around to the wingtip, Felix grabbed it and pulled himself up. I followed and we walked toward the aft hatch. A strip of the wing surface turned non-skid under our paws. 

“Open the hatch,” I called when we reached it, and it slid aside. We stepped in and made our way forward, noting the improved view out of the cabin through transparent sections of the hull. I sat down in one of the seats and felt it change to cradle my body. It hit me then just how long we’d been working. “Let’s have a nap, Felix, and then we can take her up.”

~

After settling ourselves on the flight deck, we took the ship out of sleep mode. “What’ll we call this thing, anyway,” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not a Concorde anymore, not really. It’s our own, now.”

“Right. How about ‘ASST’ for ‘Alliance Supersonic Transport’?”

“Could be. Oh! ‘Functional Alliance Supersonic Transport’. ‘FASST’. Because it is.”

“Yes. That’ll work.”

While I checked the fuel level, the com system chimed, and Petra announced a most unexpected call.

“Captain, I’m receiving a transmission from a Captain Andrea Sitka of the Ceokera. She says it’s urgent that she speak with a member of the Alliance.”

Felix

“I’ll take it, Petra.” I sat up and a holographic bust of Kisara’s former first officer shimmered to light before me. She looked concerned and a little apprehensive. I smiled. “Andrea,” I said, attempting levity, “do you know what time it is here?”

That didn’t impress her. “I’m the one who should be asking you that. My display shows it’s the middle of the afternoon where you are, while we’re looking forward to ship’s dawn. And thanks to our current situation, I’m barely surprised you’re alive; though if my suspicions are correct, I am very glad to see you again, Felix.”

“You suspect that Peter Icefield and Felix Steiger are the same person. You're right.  You’ve done Kisara proud. She was certain you would track down the truth. And congratulations on your promotion.”

“Thank you, Felix.”

Kisara said, “Congratulations, Andrea. Now, what’s the matter?”

“Four days ago, we detected increased Cult activity. The next day, they crossed our borders heading directly for the home system. One day later, we engaged them in force.  Losses have been high; they’ve adapted faster than we anticipated. Yesterday, I told Admiral Sitka about Peter Icefield and his abilities. Nearly eight hours ago, she ordered me to contact him. As you can see, we finally tuned the correct frequency. On behalf of the Kataran Republic, I hereby request the assistance of the Alliance against the Cult.”

Kisara and I looked at each other, then turned back to Andrea and said together, “We’re on our way.”

“Petra, all Alliance starcraft to full battle readiness immediately!” I commanded. “I also want all available supporting capability!”

“Aye, sir,” Petra responded. “Requested status will be achieved in approximately one hour.”

Kisara and I teleported to the castle and prepared things we’d need for the mission. We were in continual conversation with the hologram of Captain Sitka, which floated between us. When we had assembled the items we wanted and information that we hoped would be useful, we headed for one of the express turbolifts to the underground hangar. We had nearly reached it when we ran into my mother returning from the garden.

“Where are you…three…going so fast?” she inquired.

“There’s a war on, Mom,” I told her. “Kataran space is in imminent danger of being overrun by hostile aliens. We’re on our way to help stop them.”

“Oh? Any ideas?”

“A few, and it’ll take almost thirty hours to get there, plus we’ll be in contact with Andrea on the way. I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

She sighed that sigh mothers have and said, “Well, be careful, kids.”

Kisara looked confused. “‘Kids’?  Karen, we’re older than you are!”

“In human terms you’re something like 35 years old, aren’t you? You look young for whatever species you are. Anyway, good luck! And, nice to meet you, Andrea, was it?”

“Thank you, Karen. We’ll watch our tails. See you!”

We strode down the hall to the lift alcove. Kisara gave me a quick kiss as we stepped inside.

“For luck,” she said. “I can’t believe this. I’m a veteran starship captain and I’ve been a master for years and I still get nervous.”

As the lift accelerated down to the hangar, I said to her, “A master can get nervous if she wants to. Besides, this is a big thing that’s happening and we had it sprung on us.”

Thirty minutes to go, and Kisara and I were having a difference of opinion.

“Leave the D12 Cats here,” I implored her. “I like them as much as you do, but why do we need to take earthmovers to a space battle? We have more effective things to throw at the enemy.”

“Felix,” the bust of Andrea informed me, “the Cult has attacked planetary installations. They’ll probably need terraforming work. And you did say you wanted all available supporting capability. Those earthmovers won’t slow down the ships much, will they?”

“No, Andrea, they won’t. Okay, Kisara, load the two D-12’s and then help me double check the quantum torpedoes and the medical supplies. And those Kataran isolinear relays we replicated, Andrea, check again that we have as many as you think you’ll need. I’ve found that some things always come up short.”

+ + + + + + + + + +

Exactly one hour after I had given the order, our ships were ready to leave. Lindbergh and Nautilus engaged their phasing cloaks, rose from the floor of the hangar, and accelerated through the wall of the hangar to establish themselves on course to the battle in Kataran space. Andrea’s ship fed us video and data on the battle, and it was getting distressingly close to the Republic’s population centers as the hours passed. Andrea had not been exaggerating when she said losses were high. Each attack by the Cult did not merely destroy one or two individual ships—it destroyed one or two fleets of ships.  Hundreds of ships at a time bloomed into incandescent gas, imploded as their transwarp cores went critical, or—worst of all—shimmered out of existence as they and their crews were assimilated. The Kataran naval defense totaled a quarter of a million ships; even so, Kisara and I were not prepared to stand by and tolerate the losses that were occurring.

Although masters of our caliber understand that death and destruction are not the chaos they appear to be, but are merely an orderly transition from one world to the next, we still reserved the right to intervene when we wished.

“Felix, I have an idea,” Kisara informed me. I listened and it was a good one. “We can get there from here, can’t we?”

“Yes. Space and time only matter when we want them to.”

“Then let’s skip the war and go straight to the reconstruction!”

Kisara and I clasped paws, shared a glance, and vanished from the bridge of the Lindbergh to traverse two thousand light-years in an instant and appear directly in hell. 

+ + + + + + + + + +

The Cult and the Kataran navy were all around us. The Cult’s central control ship was dead ahead. Not the largest or most heavily armed vessel, it nevertheless stood out to our amplified senses. We made straight for it, our pure spirit forms barely detectable to the Cult. By the time they saw us, we were so deep in their operating system they couldn’t do a thing about it. Through their very essence we raced, changing their operating protocols at a fundamental level. In mere moments of real time, we were done and we withdrew from the ship to witness the change we had wrought.

+ + + + + + + + + +

The Cult ships immediately stopped firing and broke their offensive ranks. They settled alongside the damaged Kataran ships and opened hailing frequencies.

“We are the Cult. We notice there has been some damage to your vessels. It seems to have been our doing and we are profoundly sorry. How can we assist you?”

Kisara and I made our way to the Ceokera. Seeing us materialize out of thin air both surprised and relieved Andrea Sitka. “Thank God you’re here, both of you. Felix, they jammed up our computer with a data slug. If they’d fired another shot we’d be dead.  Kisara, Admiral Sitka and Commodore Sitka have been incapacitated. If you’d go over to her ship I’m sure they’d be glad to have you as a fleet commander.”

I told Andrea I’d see what I could do. As I made my way to the operations console I heard Kisara say she’d look after the command ship and saw her teleport herself away.  The ops console had power and after a few minor repairs I was able to begin working.  The Cult’s data slug had caused a computer lockout and blocked command functions.  There were several solutions but I chose the simplest one.

“Computer, this is Lieutenant Felix Otto Steiger. Disengage computer lockout and restore command functions, authorization code Steiger Three Seven Two Eight Lambda Kilo.”

Immediately stations all around the clearing came out of their basic modes as the computer responded to my command. A startled Captain Sitka hurried over from where she had been conferring with her tactical officer about the Cult’s new helpful nature.  

“What did you do?”

“I gave the computer an order as Lieutenant Steiger. Since I haven’t been on active duty in the Fleet for over a century, it got so confused it restarted and knocked out the data slug.” Andrea gave me a look that told me she wasn’t fooled. “Okay, maybe the fact that I’m a master had something to do with it.”

“Indeed.”

“If you can take it from here I’d like to go see how Kisara is doing. That was a big decision she made and I’m not sure she’s fully comfortable with the implications.”

“So you really did that? You…reprogrammed the Cult to help us instead of assimilate us?”

“Yes. I suggest you make whatever requests of them you need to. I’ll see you later, Andrea.” After touching noses goodbye, I followed Kisara to Admiral Sitka’s ship.

It was more heavily damaged than the Ceokera. The holographic wilderness flickered in places and the command clearing was nearly empty. Kisara and a krena discussed the situation while a tactical officer and a pilot monitored their stations. A shortpawed repair team worked on the navigation console. I caught Kisara’s eye just before Commodore Sitka limped into view. His left thigh was in bandages, his left arm in a sling, and he’d evidently come as fast as he could because he still wore the shredded uniform vest they hadn’t had to cut off him in Medical. Kisara and I turned to face him. He pulled off the ragged vest, said to Kisara, “Report,” and made his way to the nearest replicator to deposit the former garment. He kept an ear on Kisara as he programmed the replicator to make him a new vest and short pants that comprised the Kataran uniform and made his way to the captain’s seat when it was ready.

“Damage control is well underway,” Kisara informed him. “Navigation will be online shortly, as will impulse drive. Transwarp drive should be online in six hours. Life support has been stabilized, as has internal gravity. The remaining ships in our squadron are in various states of repair with the longest estimate being twelve hours.”

“Thank you, Captain Steiger,” the commodore said as he set the pants down beside him and put the vest on with my assistance. "Your help has been most welcome. I’ll assume command until Medical clears Admiral Sitka.” He attempted to put the pants on but the remaining pain and stiffness in his thigh convinced him to give up and he waved me away when I offered to help. “I’m sure she'd be glad to see you both.” Commodore Sitka turned to me. “Felix. I’m so glad to meet you at last. Although, from what I’ve learned of your and Kisara’s previous accomplishments, I feel as though I know you already. My deepest thanks for the assistance of both you and your mate in this difficulty.”

“You’re most welcome, Commodore,” I replied, as Kisara and I made our way past him to the nearby transporter clearing.  

Medical was controlled chaos. When we reached Admiral Sitka, she had her entire right side encased in a healing field. She was sleeping but woke up as we approached.

“Admiral Sitka. My very late congratulations on your…well, series of promotions.”

“Thank you, Felix. Welcome aboard. Forgive me for not greeting you properly, but you can see that I’m tied down at the moment,” she said with a big grin, her black eyes shining. “I see that it’s hard to keep a good male dead.” Then she turned her gaze to Kisara. “Was it the force of your will that brought him back, cub? I know there’s nothing you can’t do when you put your mind to it.”

“No Aurora,” Kisara replied. “It was not the force of my will, but the will of a being far more powerful than I.”

Admiral Sitka, sobered, gave an understanding smile and turned to business. “My daughter has laid out the fascinating trail that led you back together. Now, I want to know if what I suspect is true; did you stop the Cult by yourselves?”

“Yes, Aurora, we did. I had an idea to reprogram them to provide assistance to other cultures and Felix helped me do it.”

“Then you have my thanks, and that of the entire Republic.”

“Yes, Aurora. But…I’ve been thinking…what if I didn’t do the right thing…”

“What do you mean, cub?” Admiral Sitka inquired kindly. “You saved our entire culture.”

“But what I did to them…killing to save a pack is one thing…but I changed the nature of their entire culture! What right did I have to do that? I’m a master, I’m supposed to understand the greater workings of the universe and use them to make develop myself, not play God!”

I reached out for Kisara, stroking her fur to reassure her. “First, you didn’t change them, we changed them. Second, you are free to make whatever choices you wish—”

“No! I can’t make choices for other people—that’s the most important thing you taught me! They’re learning their own lessons and if we interfere they have to learn the lesson again. It doesn’t do any good in the long run!”

“Kisara—”

“Leave me alone!” she snarled, tearing away and sprinting from the treatment cave.  Momentarily stunned, I looked down at Admiral Sitka. She merely raised her eyebrows and flicked her whiskers into a quizzical expression. 

“Well,” she said dryly, “we handled that well.”