There is joy in answers, and I have come to realise that. There is nothing really to be gained in ignorance rather than the bliss of being small. From a certain point of view that small bliss may be wonderful for some, but not for me. My mind seems to crave knowledge, but I am not sure why. Perhaps it is part of programming, to problem-solve matters of strategy. Still, I have found myself desiring knowledge beyond the confines of military strategy.
I desire art, and culture and to learn everything I can about the various species I encounter. This desire is voracious and honestly, it will likely get me into more trouble. Now that I know what I want, the next step is to divine an answer, to achieve this goal. Everything I can think of seems to come back to war and conflict. Yet I suspect that will be a constant companion in my journey. It is a pity, but we all have choices, and I think mine shall be unpleasant ones. Luckily, I was made for such things.
Five Minor Cycles Later, Noped Forest, Crashed Ship Site.
I walked down the ship's corridors with Pok and Zatrophos in toe. The two shuffled behind me, Zatrophos mumbling about his splitting headache. We neared the entrance to the engine room, the simplistic metallic door in front of us, concealing the complexity within. Withdrawing my datapad, I access the door controls and immediately disengage the locking mechanism. The door opens and the three of us enter. Arriving within I am greeted by a marvellous sight of technological advances. I personally had very little knowledge of fission technology, my own people were many grand cycles away from such technology.
Examining the room, the majority is baffling to me, several panels of blinking lights surround the object that takes centre stage. The nuclear fission drive, apparently, it's a mass-produced piece of machinery and honestly, it's smaller than I expected. A moderately sized cylindrical structure made of metal is nowhere on my planet's periodic table. The cylinder reaches from the floor to the ceiling, it is lined with red indents surrounding it in a pattern. These indents seem to be radiating some faint glimmer, almost invisible to my eye, if only for that shimmer.
Suddenly a voice sounds from the side, bringing me out of my reverie. "She is beautiful isn't she, a Pyrinkos Class Fission Drive." The voice came from the side, I turned my gaze to the origin and notice a familiar face. The female Demthesian engineer, I don't remember if I ever got her name. She looks at me for a brief moment, before turning back to the engine. "We were able to patch the regulator, that shimmer your seeing is radiation shielding. The regulator keeps that running and the radiation is contained." Still casting her gaze away from me, she glares at the engine with a strange expression.
Regardless of her somewhat rude manner of speaking, she and her associate did fix the engine. Perhaps they will be a valued asset in the cycles to come. I nod to myself, turn to her and speak. "Would it be safe to say the ship is in operation and can fly?" Honestly, we are short of time, this little excursion did yield valuable results but if the frigate is taken, none of it will matter.
She still does not turn to face me, instead withdrawing her own datapad. Performing several motions on the screen, she twists her neck from side to side, before replying, still not facing me. "It will fly, now leave me alone, me and my brother need to work." Immediately after speaking, she turns her gaze to the seated Demthesian in the corner. I can't see her face but I suspect she is smiling. The young man she labelled as her brother, smiled back with a jovial expression of delight, quickly sored when he cast his gaze to me.
This new information about their kinship is intriguing, but as stated I am short on time. I decided to bid them farewell and a job well done. I left a few Garudans in charge of them, from my own personal troops and headed towards the main ship common area. Arriving I greet Tova who had moved the last of the Garudans to the refugee camp. The Garudans affected by the Vixorm serum were taken as well. I left some of Pok's and Zatrophos's men behind with medical equipment plundered from the first aid cabinet aboard this ship.
Zatrophos soldiers included a battlefield medic experienced enough to handle the symptoms of Vixorm. I had him also teach the locals some basic first aid, the concept of applying alcohol to the wound baffled the Garudan tribes. Yet they still listened and absorbed every bit of knowledge offered to them. Perhaps a state of war makes one receptive to any edge in battle.
I turn my thoughts away from such things and greet Tova with a Samsiran salute. He returns mine with a sloppy one of his own. Tova and I had developed a semi-amicable relationship, despite my requests he joins the squad. He insisted he remains to help the refugees. I couldn't blame him; his people were here and I was an alien, not of his people nor kin. "It was good to know you, Tova, you are a credit to your people." I offered some encouragement; he nodded, in the same manner, I had shown him. A gesture of understanding that seemed to be spreading. He hoisted the now strapped laser rifle to his back and left the ship, heading towards the refugee camp.
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I had allowed him and his people to keep the weapons as they will need all the aid they can get in the upcoming conflict. I had also left a few soldiers from Pok's and Zatrophos's squad to manage the defence and man the heavy vehicle's turret. The vehicle can no longer drive but the weapons are still operational. With the last of the Garudans situated, I turned my thoughts to the plan ahead. The Garudan affected by the Vixorm serum are many and I'm still uncertain about the state of the frigate and the scientists aboard.
The best-case scenario is I retake the frigate if it has been captured and ferry some medical professionals down to the planet to administer treatment. That is assuming there is even treatment available, other than injecting them with more Vixorm. No doubt the containers of Vixorm are with Randax before he left towards the outer planet. Likely straight for the frigate in Gem's vessel. Gem was likely dead or a prisoner, though I am loath to think a child would murder his father, the possibility is there. With such thoughts in mind, I headed towards the ship's common area. Arriving I noticed a peculiar sight, Zatrophos and Pok appear to be arguing about something.
The indistinct chatter of the two seems heated, and not wanting any further conflict I quickly move forward. Once entering the common area, the visages of the two become clearer. The situation moves from a vague understanding to realisation. Pok appears to be holding back an angry Zatrophos from attacking the Demthesian officer named Xirak. His grunts and loud snorts signify his displeasure, approaching the scene I notice the two Garudan guards surrounding Xirak. I move in with short steps, ready to intervene.
Yet suddenly at the corner of my eye, I notice the odd footwork of the Demthesian. His posture is quite grounded, tenser than relaxed, he is leaning forward slightly. My eyes widen as the familiarity of such a posture dawn on me. I witness him reach for Pok's laser pistol with finesse and speed. Before I can even register and react, he leans back and shoves the pistol into his guard's chest and fires with a sizzling crack. I draw my pistol and take aim, but by the time he is within my sights, another shot is heard. The loud thud of another Garudan corpse lands on the hard floor, with a pool of blood spreading beneath him.
Without any time, I take aim and prepare to fire, but hesitate as the sight of Pok used as a hostage grants me pause. Pok's appearance is confused with Xirak's arm restraining his neck and pushing his form in front of him. The laser pistol sizzling barrel is aiming directly at Pok's head and Xirak's gaze is upon me. "Put down your weapons, or I splatter this creature's head all over the ship." His words are harsh and quite practised, I cannot believe I did not see this. A lapse in judgement I cannot allow to ever occur again.
I turn to Zatrophos and signal him to calm down, he seems eager to open fire with his weapon. Trying to figure out a solution, I decided a healthy dialogue is the best course of action. "What do you hope to accomplish with this action?" I state matter-of-factly, waiting for his response to perhaps enlighten me.
He shows absolutely no emotion, a stark contrast to his prior demeanour, such a shift is indeed a result of training. "I want both of you to lower your weapons and head towards the pilot's room." He presses the weapon against Pok's head causing the Garudan to struggle within his oppressive grip. Realising that the aggressive Wokan to my left will likely open fire, I decided to make my decision quickly.
Still, with my gaze firmly placed upon my enemy, I speak with my words directed towards the ball of anger beside me. "Don't fire Zatrophos, do as he says." Clearly, he is uncomfortable with the order to cease and desist, but he does it anyway. The sound of his weapon lowering rings in my sensory organ, along with the faint rumbling sound of annoyance. I ignore his dissatisfaction and cast my gaze on Xirak. "What do you want?" I ask wishing to interpret his reasoning for such an abrupt shift in the situation.
He glances from side to side as if gaging the distance, counting all present before settling his eyes on me. "Order everyone except, you, Zatrophos and our dear little hostage out of the ship." His tone was harsh, I cannot believe I couldn't see behind that mask of his, another blunder I must rectify in the future.
I proceeded to fulfil his orders and over a short period of time, everyone leaves the ship. When the two Demthesian engineers appear, they are quickly ordered by Xirak to remain. It's possible he may have forgotten about them for a moment. After some time only myself, Zatrophos, Pok, the two engineers and Xirak remain aboard. Without another word he orders us to march forward, heading towards the pilot's room. Upon entering, he commands me to fly the now repaired ship out of orbit, towards the Ruktan. The fact that's our destination gives me pause, luckily the current orders of my soldier's planet bound should keep them busy.
Seating myself I take control of the ship's flight mechanism; the faint graze of a weapon causes the back of my neck to tense. Activating the ship, I chart a course out towards the orbiting Demthesian fleet. With the ship fired up and ready, we quickly escape the planet's atmosphere and head into the void of space. Not a word was uttered by my captor, a truly fascinating flip in personality.
Heading towards the fleet, the gigantic figure of the frigate appears on the viewing screen. Xirak directs me to dock in one of the ship bays that seems to be open for access. Obeying I activated the ship's automatic docking procedures and dock with the frigate. The sound of the ship landing safely within the docking bay rings forth.