-Conrad-
Conrad buttoned his eyes shut and clamped down on the rail of his bunk as his senses and the world around him went squirrely. The sensation was mercifully brief, and everything returned to normal after but a few moments.
Mere seconds later and the ship’s terminal-based intercom snapped to life, displaying Voorkar’s face on the screens, “Jump transition completed. Welcome to the Welbilan system of Klendigal Space. We expect to make planetfall on Dwendal in three days. Once there we will offload the assigned cargo and spend a few days on weapons training and familiarization. All hands, return to normal duties.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. Jump transitions were almost as bad as the Sonic System the Sanitation Pods used… almost. It didn’t make him feel like he was coming apart at the seams, but it was still incredibly jarring to have his senses scrambled all at once.
The sensation was worse on this ship than it had been on the larger ships he had travelled on. He didn’t know if that was because the drive incorporated Ruulothi parts, or if it was simply mass and/or output related.
“Not that it matters in the end. It just needs to be dealt with.”
He checked his wrist-link, noting the time and calculating what was left until his next shift. Finally, he sagged back into his bunk and closed his eyes. There was too much time left to start getting ready now.
He hoped to get another couple of hours of sleep before reporting for his shift. Not that there was really anything for him and the other Cargo Techs to really do. They only had a final inventory check to run, basically a makeshift task to ensure that all the proper Cargo was in the right place and hadn’t been moved.
Unlike the Dark Meridian, the Wind Runner had no need to shift cargo around. It was simply too small in comparison. Also, moving cargo crates around on a lighter ship would offset its balance, potentially causing it to become unstable in atmosphere. So, no one messed with the loads in transit.
Of course, this didn’t leave them with much to do in the interim. They prepped for the next delivery before ever taking off in the first place, and then didn’t touch it. It was a big reason for why the Cargo Techs had other, secondary jobs on the ship. There simply wasn’t much for them to do between stops outside of logs and inventories.
“And cleaning. There is always cleaning to do. Can’t let the filters get clogged or have any loose items laying around. Even a tiny little object becomes a destructive missile on re-entries. Doesn’t really matter what it hits, people, electronics, vents… everything can cause damage when launched just right.”
He snorted at his own thoughts, then smothered them as he shoved his head into his pillow. If he didn’t get any extra sleep, he was going to be in rough shape come the start of his shift. Once comfortable and clear of wandering thoughts, he put a hand on the wall and let its ambient coolness and the background vibration lull him to sleep.
________________________________________
“ALRIGHT! Let’s get the last of those crates off the ship and onto the Station! Conrad! Sections five and six. Vistiin! Fifteen and fourteen. Watch your spacing and your surroundings! No accidents! No collisions!”
Loadmaster Nooraal’s voice boomed through the cargo bay, bringing order to what he perceived to be potential chaos or issues. They hadn’t given him any reason to doubt, but the commands had left no doubt as to what was to be expected. In a way, he was getting ahead of trouble and dummy proofing the process by defining what was expected.
The requested sections were directly across from one another on either side of the ship. Conrad and Vistiin alternated their unloading, one grabbing a crate and removing it from the ship while the other took theirs to the cargo truck and returned for their next crate.
It was a simple method, but a tried and tested one that left plenty of wiggle room for physical error or unexpected problems. But, given that the two of them were currently the only loaders, they were quite easily able to stay out of one another’s way.
Conrad had been surprised that they had docked to unload at the local Orbital Station. Usually, the draw of having cargo delivered by an atmo-capable ship lay in having them deliver it themselves. This took the responsibility, and costs, of moving the cargo off the shoulders of the locals.
But, after thinking it through, he realized that the cargo they were delivering could just as easily be intended for the Station itself.
“Sometimes, the answer is simply right in front of you. No need to overthink it. Not that it is really any of my business to begin with.”
He ambled down the ramp with his crate and added it to the load on his assigned truck, then waited his turn to get the final few crates.
A few minutes later and the unloading was completed. Loadmaster Nooraal signaled for them to return to the ship and begin the preparations for takeoff.
As the loading ramp closed Vistiil cocked his head, “We aren’t taking on a new load? We are almost empty now.”
“Not today. The Captain wants us focused on the upcoming training, taking on a new load would put us on a schedule again. What we have left is at will deliveries, so there is no need to worry about deadlines.”
Conrad did a double take, “Wait, at will deliveries? Who orders things without having an expectation for their arrival?”
Nooraal chuckled and shrugged, “People with more time and money on their hands than I. And no, I do not know what the cargo is, nor do I care. It has been vetted, that is enough for me.
“Now enough talk, we need to get ready for atmospheric entry. Make sure everything is locked down, then get to your rooms and strap in.”
Vistiil and Conrad both responded with a “Yes, Sir!” and moved to do exactly that.
__________________________
Their trip to the surface of Dwendal took them far from the populated areas and into the arid flatlands at the base of a series of mountain chains. It was explained to them by a veteran crewmate that this area was largely avoided by the denizens due to its complete lack of easily accessible natural resources. The area was almost completely open with little more than desperate looking low scrubs and wind, so it made a perfect place to practice marksmanship.
Captain Loorthal had made a standing deal with the locals that afforded him the access to the area for his crew training. Even when he didn’t have new crew to train, he made sure his people stayed on top of their skills.
He knew that marksmanship was a perishable skill.
A hot wind blew across the plain. Almost in counter point to it, the ground was hardpacked, so there was hardly any dust to get kicked into people’s eyes. Nor were there really any animals in the area, only small lizards and mammals that largely avoided them. Even so, there were lookouts posted.
The reason for them Conrad understood well enough, there were places on Nueva Rios and Earth that had similar issues. They were close enough to the mountain range that a squall could quite easily form and drop on them with hardly any notice. In such a case they would need to scramble to get their sensitive and valuable equipment back onto the ship before it hit.
The ship would weather the storm just fine, but anything, or anyone, left outside would likely be damaged or lost. Apparently, hail was quite common this close to the massive mountains, and it got to be very large at times. Large enough to completely pulverize a person’s body on impact.
He didn’t want to think about how exactly they knew that.
Conrad helped set up the basic things. The tables, crates, and targets. Cook Riinsuul had a small station set up in one of the cargo brackets just inside the loading ramp. This put him out of the way, but accessible, and not at risk of losing his valuable equipment.
It was a sign of either hard won experience or incredible foresight. Conrad had learned that Riinsuul had been with the crew of the Wind Runner for very long time, had been one of Loorthal’s first hires in fact. He wondered if the old Ruulothi would part with some of the stories he had to have picked up over the years and decided to ask him at a more appropriate time.
It took them around an hour to get everything ready, even with the full force of the crew behind it. The range that they had set up was a large one. It was designed to test the skills of up to twenty people at a time and included body sized moving targets and pop-up targets in addition to the standard stationary ones.
As they gathered for the instruction, Conrad noticed a major difference between this range and Human ranges. There was a distinct lack of distant targets. All the targets here were placed well within the hundred-meter mark.
“I wonder, is this because we are looking to train for ship-based combat? But that wouldn’t make sense. We would spend more time actively guarding various cargo drops than we would defending the ship. So that must mean… Oh, that is why.”
As he was mulling over the lack of extended ranges, Voorkar had stepped up to the central table with a weapon case and pulled out its contents, running a check of the weapon before holding it up for display.
The weapon Voorkar held was instantly familiar to Conrad. It didn’t appear as refined as human weaponry, to his eye at least, but it was clearly a firearm of some kind.
The weapon itself was roughly the length of one of his extended arms, with what appeared to be a barrel projection of some sort jutting out from under a full-length shroud. It had a pair of alternated grips that stuck out at oblique downward angles on opposite sides of the weapon, one in front that looked to be a stabilizing grip, and one roughly where he would expect a human weapons fire control grip to be. There appeared to be some sort of mechanism in the blocky body, and a piece that could have been a magazine of some kind that was inserted into the top and hung down a little on either side of the weapon with angled “ears”. On either side of the weapon was a pair of tubes that came out just in front of the rear grip and returned to the shroud just behind the end of the barrel where the chamber would be on a human rifle.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The most jarring departure from what he was familiar with was the lack of a brace or stock, and the lack of normal sights. It had a built-in sight, but consisted of little more than a large, diamond shaped loop on the front.
“That is so strange, how do they brace it for accurate fire? Hell, can it even fire beyond the targets that were set up? That seems extremely limiting, but then again, this is alien war doctrine, not human. Who knows, maybe they exclusively fight in close quarters.” He shook his head before focusing again, “Not a good idea to be luffing about when they are explaining things. Watch and listen you fool.”
Voorkar turned the weapon over in his hands to allow the newest recruits to see it from all angles. “This, for those of you who are new to the ship… and the Galactic Community in general…” He gave a pointed look to Conrad before continuing, “Is the Galactic standard weapon, the Emitter Beam Rifle, or EBR for short. It came about after a rather fortuitous accident involving now outdated propulsion systems. It fires a short-pulse, self-contained plasma “beam” by harnessing the Bloom created by the activation of a pair of Two Hundred Kilowatt lasers igniting the local atmosphere, which is then ejected at high speeds using an electromagnetic pulse bubble.
“Yes, for those of you paying attention, that means that it does not function properly in the void of space. But for that, it has a direct fire mode using the paired lasers. These lasers work just fine in the void and in atmosphere, but in comparison they simply aren’t as effective on target as the bolt without exposing yourself for a significant amount of time.
“It has a manual safety right here, to prevent fools from making mistakes. It also has two firing grips, designed to accommodate the vast majority of body types in Galactic Community. The front grip controls the atmospheric regulator. Pressing that trigger fills the regulator with air. The rear grip is the kill trigger, this activates the lasers and fires the new ball of plasma out the barrel.
If you want to fire it with just the lasers, there is a second lever in front of the safety that disables the regulator and opens the baffles.
“Now, firing it is an incredibly simple task. It was made so to allow for even brain rotted fools to properly operate. You take this holographic targeting display here, place it over your target, then pull the desired triggers, like so.”
He turned to point the weapon downrange and flipped the safety lever to make it live. He held it in what looked to be an awkward and uncomfortable manner, proving to Conrad that there was no way to properly brace the weapon. They were basically firing off-hand, holding the weapon in front of themselves to see through the sight.
Despite the perceived disadvantages, Chief Voorkar was clearly adept in the weapon’s proper use. There was a loud snap as the weapon fired, and a hissing bolt of plasma fired out and struck a midrange target dead center.
The effect on target was impressive.
The bolt of plasma exploded on contact with the target as its containment bubble disintegrated, vaporizing part of the metal cladding the target into a fine mist and leaving behind a shallow, smoking crater on the plate.
The bolt was fast. Not as fast as railguns or even early projectile weapons, he could still see the bolt in transit, but it was fast enough it could not be dodged when in range. Given that it was superheated plasma he could only imagine how effective it would be on flesh. But it seemed to leave something to desire when dealing with armor. “Probably a good thing considering they use these on ships. Wouldn’t do to have some raw recruit putting holes in your hull.”
“And now, for the lasers only.”
Voorkar fiddled with the levers and fired again. This time there was no sound but thin, scintillating blue lines reflecting off the dust particles in the air shot out from the barrel of the weapon and began burning lines into the target as he fought to hold the weapon steady.
He held the weapon on target for a few moments more before stopping and turning back to the group, “Clearly, the bolt works better. But it is important to know that the option is there. Now, for the extras.
“The tubes on the sides here are the expansion chambers that allow the regulator to function properly and not blow up in your face. This insert on the top serves two purposes. It is an external Charge Pack that supplies extra power for the Pulses that fire the bolt, and the coolant that prevents the weapon from overheating and exploding.
“The EBR can function without it, but your firing rate and functional range will be greatly diminished. The on-board battery and pulse emitter self-charge over time, but if you don’t have enough charge, the pulse and the bolt will collapse early and fizzle out. The Charge Pack has a simple display on the back that shows you if it has been used up or not. If the light bar turns off, replace the pack. DON’T throw them out if you can avoid it, they can be recharged and put back into service.
“Also, as I said earlier, if you overheat the weapon it will explode on you instead of the enemy. If you are ever worried about overheating, switch to the lasers to allow it to cool off. You do NOT want to be holding it when it goes critical. The gauge, here on the side, shows you the internal temperature levels.
“Now… Any questions before we get started?”
As with any such display before eager newbies, there was a host of them. Conrad had a few of his own, and a couple were answered for him before he got his turn, but eventually Voorkar got to him.
“What is the maximum effective range on them, and are there any other variants in service? Say, larger, longer ranged or crew served? Also, is there a maximum amount that can be primed for a shot?”
Voorkar paused at the line of questioning, giving Conrad a sidelong, but appraising glance. He started to speak, but then paused and collected himself while thinking about his answer.
“The maximum range for the EBR is, safely, the farthest targets here, with the actual maximum dependent on local conditions. After that the bolt begins to lose integrity and fizzle out, much like it would without proper power. As for the other question… There are vehicle and building mounted and ship-based versions, but nothing else for foot troops.
“As I expect you are aware, the ship-based versions work differently due to being needed to function in the Void. Ship based weapons, such as ours, use particle dispersion to create the plasma rather than the atmosphere, and have far more powerful EM bubbles, but they are still limited by range and the fuel source needed to survive the journey to the target. They can be charged for greater range and power, but at the cost of the fuel source and power to the rest of the ship.
“As for the last question, there are safeguards in place. The regulator for personal weapons cannot be overcharged and will stop filling the chamber once a certain amount has been primed.
“These are… interesting questions. They show an understanding of battle equipment and combat in general. I assume that your people fight differently?”
Conrad nodded, “Yes, we have a very different doctrine when it comes to weaponry and combat.”
He heard a deep chuckle from behind him, “That is an understatement. Perhaps later we can sit down and show it to you Voorkar.”
“I would be more than happy to, Master Ruufarrl. Perhaps when we are next in transit, we can find a good time.”
Voorkar turned back to the newbies and gestured to the veteran crewmen standing to the side, “You will each work directly with one of your seniors for the duration of our time on planet. Follow their instructions to the letter. Failure to do so will result in a failure of this class, and your immediate dismissal from the ship. There is no room on board for the reckless, indiscriminately dangerous and untrained.
“Now, Gentlemen, pick your recruit.”
________________________________
-Ruufarrl-
This was going to be a most interesting diversion.
Ruufarrl had been watching the recruits closely and felt a trickle of pride that they had all been paying close attention and seemed to be taking the lessons to heart.
They weren’t his recruits, but it was an old habit from his Academy days that he just couldn’t seem to shake.
He chuckled to himself. “Hmmph, maybe I am just getting old and doting.”
Due to his own extensive service, he was exempt from the standard lessons. However, he also wasn’t a veteran of the ship, so he was not given an instructor role. But he would be joining them in later days for the recertification course.
He stalked along behind the row of recruits and instructors, observing and making mental notes. He would not say anything to anyone here, it would be too much of a breach of etiquette. But, perhaps later, he could give a few quick informal pointers to those that were struggling and ask questions of the Seniors that would aid his integration into the crew.
He kept a curious eye on his charge. He had seen more than enough from Conrad over the last year to know that he would be just fine, but he was still interested in just how well he would adapt to the new weapon system.
He knew from personal experience there was a large divide in human weaponry and GalStan EBR’s. Human weapons were explicitly designed for their bodies and were meant for an entirely different style of combat. Their weapons, even those meant for frontline soldiers, had a certain capacity for highly accurate, long-range fire.
“Hmmm, that would be an interesting fight to see. If they were allowed to choose the field of combat, I wonder if we would even be able to get in range of our own weapons and best operational skills. The more I consider the differences in exhibited combat techniques, the more I grow concerned at our ability to meet them on even footing if it comes down to a fight.”
He snorted to himself as the next thought came to him, “I haven’t even seen anything more than a civilian hunter, a couple of pretty honor guards and a single warship, and I am STILL finding myself doubting. Not a good sign.”
He silenced his thoughts to watch as the newbies were allowed to take their first shots. Despite Voorkar’s statement about the sights there were many misses, which was to be expected. Even Conrad missed his target, although not by much. He appeared to be struggling with the weapon layout and was shifting about trying to find an effective way to hold the weapon on target.
As he watched, the Chief made his way over to him to talk in low tones.
“What do you think? There was a lot of arguing about allowing him to participate. Do you think it will come back to bite us?”
Ruufarrl bristled and gave him a wary look, “If I thought that, I would never have sponsored him.”
Voorkar chuckled, “I suppose that is fair. Thank you for not biting at my ears for even asking. I needed to, regardless of how it came across. You both mentioned differences in weaponry. Is it truly so different?”
Ruufarrl shifted as he tried to find the words to describe the differences. As he was doing so, they fired another volley. There were many more hits this time around, Conrad included.
Voorkar chuffed, “He learns fast.”
“That he does. Human weapons are… specially designed to them. They have not had a need to make a universal weapon for many races, so they are highly specialized to the human body type. They take into account their natural flexibility and body mechanics, something that not even we can match.
“They have a slew of personal sized weapons. Military rifles, hunting rifles, single hand weapons called pistols, and many more. Some I have to show you to be believed. His question earlier about crew operated weapons was not a mistake. They make larger weapons in parts to be assembled and deployed in the field for heavier fire, indirect fire and anti-armor purposes.”
Voorkar’s eyes went wide, “Indirect and Anti-armor… surely you jest, how would they even get them on target if they can’t see it? What could they possibly be shooting at that requires…? Well, I suppose we would wish for those anti-armor weapons when a Clantor comes calling.”
Ruufarrl chuckled quietly. The recruits were now attempting to hit the mid-range targets, Conrad again missed his first shot, but adapted quickly and got them back on target. The others also appeared to be doing well and getting their shots on target.
“This is a most astute class; it is rare that they all adapt so well. To answer the rest of your question, human rifles have braces on the backs of them. This allows the humans to snug it in against their body for a more stable firing platform and line their heads and eyes up to their weapon sights. From all appearances, they look to have a preference for longer range, accurate fire.”
Ruufarrl tipped his chin at the firing line, “These EBR’s, they are incredibly awkward for him to hold. They are for us as well, but doubly so for him. He is fighting his natural inclination to pull it close to his body, and it is affecting his accuracy.”
They watched together in silence for a few moments, appraising the recruits and their attempts to adapt to the weapon system.
“I see what you mean. He sometimes tilts to one side and has to correct himself or lifts the gun up to eye level, upsetting his balance. That is so… strange.”
“To us, but for them it is natural. When they first met, my niece asked him to draw conclusions about our genealogy and history from his first impressions on the planet. He was astoundingly accurate on many things, but one of his comments stuck with me. He mentioned that we Ruulothi had evolved to live climbing on the lower roots of the trees, rather than swinging through the canopies.
“It was an almost offhand comment, but I think it may hold more to it than I caught at the time. Their bodies are built for a combination of running, swimming and climbing. They are not overly specialized in either, but instead exhibit a balanced combination of all. This versatility almost pervades every sense of their culture. Heh, as you can see.”
He pointed as Conrad got himself dialed in for the long-range targets, scoring a couple of repeated hits. Excellent marksmanship by Ruulothi standards.
Voorkar grunted in response, “Adaptable to the last… Well, this next part should be fun, now they go through the gauntlet.”
The Veterans rounded up the weapons and recruits and got them lined up at the start of a short course that held a number of targets at varying ranges, some of which moved and popped up. They lay the weapons on the table next to the starting mark and walked them through the course once to set the expectations.
After the instruction was completed, the Veterans lined up with their chosen recruit, and handed them the rifle. Staying behind the recruit for safety, the Veterans walked the course with the recruit while they attempted to swivel, fire on and strike each of the targets in turn, with as few shots as possible.
It was a test of their self-control and decision making as much as it was their newly learned weapon handling while on the move. For most, it was designed to humble them and teach them that there was always more to learn. For some it proved a difficult challenge, a very few select others found it to be an enjoyable challenge, rapidly scoring hits on the closest targets and testing themselves against the farthest.
Eventually, Conrad’s turn came up. He tested his ability to hold and swivel with the gun as instructed and looked crestfallen. It was simply too awkward for him to do without extensive practice.
He looked at the gun for a few moments, then cocked his head and looked up at the sky. Ruufarrl had been with him long enough to know what this meant. He smiled and tapped Voorkar on the shoulder, “Watch, he is about to change the rules again.”
“Wait. What?”
Conrad turned his head and addressed the Veteran with him, keeping the weapon pointed downrange. Whatever the question was caused the Veteran to give him an incredulous look and cross his arms. But after giving whatever it was some thought they shrugged and gestured for him to continue.
Conrad took the EBR, pulled it back and nestled his fire control elbow into the base of his ribs, locking that arm into place. He moved to stand up straight while shifting his weight so that his head tilted directly over the weapon. He nodded to the Veteran and began walking. Rather than shooting using the sights, he turned his entire body and kept the weapon level, firing when the barrel lined up to the target. As there was no recoil, it was child’s play for him to keep it on target.
There was a little variance with his steps, but he had adopted a smooth shifting gait that wavered little and began blasting the targets one by one as he moved, aiming with his entire body instead of his arms.
One after another he struck his targets, close targets, then mid-range. Finally, he began targeting the distant targets.
Normally this required the recruits to move closer to engage, teaching them the importance of proper spacing and target evaluation. But Conrad didn’t care.
He still missed his first couple shots on the long range targets, but he used them to adjust his core and began hitting the targets, knocking them down as he had the others.
Ruufarrl caught Voorkar with his mouth open and began laughing. “Now you truly see the heart of Humanity. When they come across something they can’t work with, they make their own damned rules. I guarantee you that none of us can do that without long hours of practice, it requires you to be able to stand up straight and lock your body and gait.”
“Just what in the Great Hunt have you brought into our midst?”
Ruufarrl grinned mischievously, “If you think that is strange, just wait until you learn what a grenade is.”
“I’m sorry, a what?”