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The Tale of G.O.D.
65. ~Observer~

65. ~Observer~

“Everyone says that aliens have to be friendly because the technology that's needed to travel between stars requires a highly developed culture. But who says that this implied culture has to be based on the same values as ours?”

***Outer Rim***

***Abernath, Captain of the Prip Research Vessel 038***

“We are about to reach system 34-23-4. Initiating the shut-down sequence of the warp drive,” the ship's navigator informs the crew with enthusiasm.

I nod and slump down in my chair, grumbling my acknowledgement of our impending arrival in the new system. The scientists will surely find something interesting about it. There will be some kind of rock or a strange wavelength of light which is emitted by the local star.

Then they will start giving us orders to do something dangerous, like flying into an asteroid belt or a gas cloud. Or at least that's what they will try to do, and I'll be telling them to shove their noses into the nearest pile of crap.

It's always the same with these survey missions. I bet back at home the universities actually choose the unsavoury individuals for these missions to get rid of them.

The door to the bridge opens, and several scientists enter the room. They fan out and some take the reserve positions at the consoles, while others look over their backs. I'll have to shoo them out soon. If it's not their shift, then they are supposed to rest. It helps nobody if they fall asleep during their actual work-hours.

But exploring a new system is a unique and new situation to them, so I let it slide.

The head-scientist, a certain Yohbi from the Tural island chain steps in front of me. His fur is spotted in various shades of brown and he is a short, stubby fellow with an extraordinary pointy nose. In the past, it was seen as a trait of nobility, but modern research showed that calling it an atavism is more accurate. I remind myself not to call him an inbred pomp.

“Abernath, since this is an important mission, I propose for you to vacate your console for someone else until we return. It allows access to the ship's sensor array, so we could increase our work speed with the additional workstation.”

Ignoring him, I open the small compartment on the side of my chair and retrieve the claw-polisher. It's been a while since I used it, but old habits probably never die out.

“He took it out,” the ship's engineer whispers. She giggles and whips the colleague next to her with her bushy tail. The both of them snigger, expecting a show.

“This will be good,” her counterpart replies.

“Abernath, are you ignoring me!?” Yohbi complains.

I shake my head and switch on the little device, running it in ponderous circles over the retractable claws of my fingers. No need to rush the job. First, I'll make sure that all four of my claws are nicely sharp and pointy.

“Arrival in system in four, three, two, one,” our navigator announces and a slight shudder runs through the old ship when the warp-field collapses.

The 038 is an old ship, which doesn't necessarily mean that it's a bad ship. The warp emitters are in perfect condition which makes the ship more than capable to sail a few bookworms through space.

Though, that doesn't necessarily mean that its systems are up to modern standard. When 038 was built, the understanding of warp-fields wasn't as far along as it is today. This results in the peculiar property of losing some of our velocity when we re-enter the normal universe. A bit of the kinetic energy is bled off and left behind in warp-space which has the result that the ship 'stutters' a little.

In the early days it was thought that this effect wasn't avoidable, henceforth the ships were built a little sturdier than necessary. Until a smart head pointed out that this effect could be avoided by a proper design and better-adjusted warp-fields.

So, like I already told our scientists, the ship 'stutters' a little.

Now, in the good old days, I would have probably just raked my claws over Yohbi's face to show him who the dominant male is. But nowadays, that would probably end with him raising charges against me.

Instead, I am forced to satisfy my basic instincts through trickery.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

As the ship 'stutters', one of the more stupid scientists falls and hits his head on the hard deck with a reverberating 'clonk'. Unfortunately, Yohbi remembered this troublesome quirk of my ship and was holding onto one of the handholds.

The claw-polisher slips out of my fat fingers and sails straight into Yohbi's face. The whirring polishing-disc cuts into his cheek and the entire device is flung around by the force, creating a second cut on the idiot's pointy nose.

The scientist yowls in pain and I grunt in satisfaction but don't allow my feelings to show on my face.

“I am so sorry. These little devices are so hard to hold. It slipped out of my fingers. Didn't I warn you to be careful when we enter or leave warp?”

Yohbi ignores me, as he is now occupied with his face. To be honest, he is bleeding quite badly and I have to fight hard to suppress a smirk. “Why don't you go to the infirmary and get that looked at? We can talk about your brilliant proposal afterwards.” Preferably after I set a fixed course for the ship and locked down all the controls so that the scientists can't try to kill us.

Covering his face, the idiot stumbles out of the room, leaving behind a few droplets of yellow blood.

Sighing again, I ignore the staring of the other crew-mates and use my tail to scoop up the claw-polisher. It deactivated itself a few moments after it left my palm. Normally, it would switch off immediately, but it's old and I rigged it a little. The crew is slowly catching on that me dropping it at inopportune moments isn't an accident, so I'll soon have to think of something else.

After cleaning the device with some disinfectant, I get back to polishing my nails. It was true that they look quite horrid. Ah, a captain's task of keeping the ship afloat is indeed gruesome.

Deeply concentrated on my task, I barely listen to the scientist's initial results.

“...strange flashes of light … not from the star...”

I grumble and nod. There is always something interesting. Whether it's a rock or light.

“...large amount … all around us...”

Hmm. That's strange. Light is supposed to come from the nearby star, and not from all around us. But I keep polishing, now done with the claws of my left hand. Absent-mindedly, I begin working on my other hand.

The scientists hustle and bustle all around my bridge, but I ignore them. They can have another minute until I am done with this. Then I'll throw them out and establish some order.

A sudden alarm which I haven't heard in a long time causes me to drop the claw-polisher. The last time I heard this sound was as a young cadet at a training exercise. I didn't have a large belly back then and actually thought of a great career as the captain of one of our newest starships.

“A battle!” my navigator shrieks. “We jumped directly into a fucking interstellar war!”

“What the fuck did you shove up your arse this time, Kler!” I shriek after recovering from my – almost – heart attack. “I ordered you to leave the drugs planetside!” I quickly survey my shiny bridge. The idiot managed to shock everyone in the room.

The woman who is in charge of the sensors shakes her head. “He is right. There are ships out there and they aren't ours!” She presses a button and the main screen comes to life, showing us what she has on her console. It's a map of this solar system with dozens of red dots representing ships which are moving along intersecting lines. They symbolize their trajectories.

“So many!” one of the scientists mumbles. “But this system doesn't have planets in the habitable zone! Where did they come from?”

The screen flickers and the map turns even more complex as it updates with the newest sensor data and previously greyed-out or blurry zones are added in detail.

“Those are just the large ships which I can see. There are smaller ones, and there must be a lot of them,” the navigator explains. “Our optical sensors have problems tracking them.” She presses a few buttons and several pictures appear on the screen. They are alien ships. A single glance tells me that there are two distinct designs.

One type of vessel favours a black, symmetrical design which reminds me of my own claws. They either incorporate an asteroid in their construction or have long, cylindrical main-bodies which are covered with mechanisms and devices.

“Get us out of here. Set a course which gets us away from this madness,” I order as I study the second faction.

These ships are madness incarnate. What looks like a bare fusion engine is strapped directly to discs which are brimming with devices. The minds behind these things didn't have any sense for appearance and simply stuck with what works.

As we watch, one of the claw-ships disappears as the sub-screen which displayed it whites out and one of the lines on the map vanishes, together with the dot representing the ship.

“Some kind of nuclear device. I am reading all sorts of radiation. They clearly aren't squeamish about their weapons,” a scientist comments.

I growl, unhappy with the development. “Navigator, how long until we can jump again? If our optical sensors get that good of a picture, then we are entirely too close to this conflict. How could we get unlucky enough to jump directly into this?” It's like we won the royal lottery.

“They are fighting all over the system. It wouldn't have mattered much where we exited our warp bubble, but at least it doesn't seem like we are of any interest to them.” The reply is quick and short. “Ten minutes until we can make an emergency jump.”

“Make it one! I don't care if it's just a few lighthours,” I reply. “Just get us out of the vicinity of this battle. We can take our time to configure the warp projectors once we can't be mistaken as combatants.”

All this ship has is a single laser to melt asteroids for analysis. We aren't equipped for anything like a space battle.

We watch in silent horror as one of the larger claw-ships slowly swings by a little moon. The planetoid is orbiting the largest gas-giant in the system, and the sensor's officer is clearly using our main telescope to view the show. The scale indicates that the ship in question is at least five kilometres in length, but that's nothing in comparison to the devastation it deals out.

Most of the ships are moving at incredible speeds through the system, constantly accelerating to catch or to evade the enemy. Though the Leviathan in question decided to take its time. Something down there caused its ire.

Beams of pure energy are stabbing down at the moon's surface. Flashes and trails of light indicate some form of high-performance projectile weapon. The surface of the little moon simply comes apart, its low gravity unable to hold onto the debris which is flung up into space. It's like the monster in its orbit decided to dig a hole down to its core!

“We are ready to jump.”

“Activate the drive!” Just get me out of here! I am too old for this!