Chapter:4 Treasure Trove
“... So what is the difference between ‘a’, ‘A’ and ‘@’?” Xant asked, looking over the alphabet Jasmine had drawn for him during their first sessions. He was analyzing sample sentences she had written, cross-referencing them to her vocalisation. So far, there wasn’t much consistency. It was very free-flowing and seemed to be more instinctual than their own language. He had noticed several words and phrases followed different rules depending on context. Jasmine, however, was stacking waurdess pieces on top of each other, smooshing her cheek into the palm of her hand as she balanced her skull on her arm. Her eyes were only half open as she suddenly lost her balance and her head slipped off its resting place, her face almost slamming into the table.
She snorted awake.
“I’m awake!”
“Jasmine? Did you enter an Industrial Freq cycle?” Xant quired.
“... Maybe?” Jasmine scratched her ear and yawned. “I’m sorry Xant, but we’ve been discussing the same subject for nearly 8 hours, I’m suffering from information overload.” The human stretched and stood from the chair, walking and yawning to wake herself up even more.
“Is there a limit to human concentration?” Xant asked.
“Well yeah, there’s no way I could sit still and focus for that long on a single subject, I’m honestly surprised you can,” Jasmine answered.
Xant was about to answer ‘it was what he was designed for’ but it wasn’t a subject she was comfortable with, and it saddened him. He wanted to talk with her about it more, find out why it was such an abhorrent notion to her, but now was not the right time. So much was happening so fast. Perhaps once things had settled down and her future was a bit more certain, she would be willing to discuss such things.
“We could have stopped at any time Jasmine, we can work entirely at your pace.”
“Yeah, but you were so excited I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She ran a hand over her hair and looked away. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the occasional spark of joy Xant gave off when they talked about human and alien things together, but the presence of others' emotions inside her head still felt rather invasive. Jasmine figured she would get used to it with time, as with all things, and going back to the silence wasn't an option now. She spotted Rynard asleep on his back with all three dogs curled up on top of his chest.
“Huh, maybe my boredom’s contagious?”
Xant felt she was deflecting, she was distracted.
He put down his dataslate, saving their recording session for later study. Before her new translator, her mind would have openly shared what was her current focus, but since the surgery, her ‘inner thoughts’ were concealed as per her request.
‘Something is bothering you, isn’t it?’ he asked her. Her head turned, startled, before a chuckle.
‘You know, I almost forgot you could do that,’ she answered. ‘I guess we’re proper telepaths now.’
‘Why am I not surprised humanity already has a name for this phenomenon?’ His laughter echoed inside her head. ‘You are so very unusual in the most exciting ways.’ ‘You’ve given me superpowers, Xant! Honestly, I expect things to get a lot more exciting from here on out…’
‘And is that what’s bothering you? It's too quiet?’
“Yes!” Jasmine answered, breaking the thought speak. “I mean, this is a military base, right? But there hasn’t been any movement outside our accommodations for nearly a whole [week!], I haven’t met any officials, heck, Nako hasn’t even come to see me...”
The terminal in the corner of the room began beeping, ready to transmit a message, startling Jasmine and waking Rynard and the dogs up from their nap.
“It seems the universe heard you,” Xant commented, making his way over to the holographic terminal. The dogs bounded off Rynard and followed behind Xant to watch the light show. Jasmine too was interested in the bright lights as a full-bodied image of Nako appeared before them in all his faded blue glory.
It wasn’t quite as impressive as the galaxy map she had seen back in Laandi’s office, but seeing the everyday use for the tech was still cool as hell.
“Salutations, Namegiver,” Nako’s voice cracked through the intercom. It was a little muffled, like a slightly untuned radio.
“Salutations, Lieutenant,” Jasmine answered, folding her arms. “I was wondering when you’d give us a call.”
“My position leaves me with a great deal of regrettable obligations, Namegiver,” the Lieutenant replied. “As much as you are a priority, there are still matters I must yet attend to, but for now, I will be able to relieve you of your temporary confinement.” Even in a hologram, Nako was an impressive presence, regality was basically a professional skill of his. His long cape concealed most of his body, but it gave him an imposing silhouette.
"Thank you!” Jasmine smiled, “If the rest of the complex is even half as impressive as the room, I'm in for a real treat."
Nako approved of the comment.
"I believe you will find Branch and the collection to be very impressive. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on every item."
"And then you'll give me the tour of the base, right?" Jasmine put her hands on her hips and leaned forward expectantly.
Nako and Rynard laughed.
"I'm afraid I don't have the week to spare to give you the tour personally, but there should be a holographic map available if the captain would be so kind," Nako explained.
"Actually, I am adept with military terminals, Commander," Xant chimed in, much to the Lieutenant's shock.
"Oh? You're trained in the use of military equipment?"
Xant nodded proudly.
"I was a field researcher with the reclamation before my employment with Essander. My experience with the tech is adequate."
"Impressive. You are worth more than your designation, Doctor." Nako acknowledged.
Xant bowed his head quite deeply.
"Thank you, Commander."
“Captain,” Nako addressed Rynard, the large captain standing at attention.
“Yes, Commander?”
“You will be sent a shuttle. You are to escort the Namegiver and her attendants to the Engineers' Hall. There, Engine Lord Vitoiic will allow you to study the contents of the Rajavan vessel. I will meet you in the Engineers' Hall before the last quarter,” Nako ordered.
“Sir yes sir!” Rynard acknowledged hand across his chest in salute.
"Well, Namegiver, Captain, Doctor, I hope to see you shortly."
"Same here! See ya later, Lieutenant!" Jasmine waved.
Nako wiggled his antenna and returned the human's cute hand motion.
"May the universe be clear," he signed off.
"Uhh, good luck!" Jasmine replied, remembering she would have to figure out her own 'sign off' phrase eventually. Maybe Rynard or Xant could give her a few pointers.
"You know, for a lieutenant, he's alright," Rynard muttered off-handedly.
"He is certainly more approachable than I expected," Xant concurred. "Perhaps it's a new initiative they're trying out?"
"Well, it's a vast improvement over my last lieutenant," snorted Rynard, who certainly was alive despite his last serving commander.
"So what you're saying is that I'm incredibly lucky I wasn't picked up by some asshole?" Jasmine interjected.
Rynard gave a deep-bellied laugh over the insult. Xant, ears flexed down at the context and content of Jasmine's words, tried to answer her over the guttural laugh of the Captain and the image now planted in his brain.
"I think it's safe to say that if the Lieutenant didn't have some reason and forethought we wouldn't be as well accommodated as we are."
Rynard continued to laugh as he headed over to his suit of power armour, stepping into it naturally and without pause. The suit clamped down his back and soon he became the definition of a living tank.
“Come on doc, your turn to suit up!”
Xant grimaced but swallowed his pride to suit up just the same.
“Uhh, will I need a helmet?” asked Jasmine.
“Well, we ain't leaving grav’ or atmo’, so I think you’ll be fine,” Rynard reassured her. “But before we head out…” Rynard crouched down to be on eye level with his small companion.
“We’d better fix your cape."
“My cape?”
“Yeah, it kinda matters how you wear it. Pleats are your honour ranking, the length indicates what role you play in the field, the longer it is the further back from the line you are.”
“Okay, so how should I wear it?”
“Let's see... well, you're a ‘citizen’ model,” he replied, with the rolling of his eyes, “so don't pleat it and wear it long, other than that, you can drape it however you like.”
“Huh…” Jasmine clicked her tongue, pulling the blue sari off her shoulders. She twisted the fabric, checking its length with her hands before wrapping it around her waist, knotting it at her shoulder and letting the rest fall down her back. “How's this?”
“Hmmm, not bad, style's a little odd but it's not against regulation.”
While Jasmine didn't need a helmet, but the dogs needed to stay behind since they had no armour at all. Spades was a little wary to leave his new Namegiver's side, but Sieglinde and Kimiko were happy with their pile of waurdess kibble and a bed they were allowed to jump on.
As Jasmine and Xant stepped out of the room, the pair of them weren’t prepared for just how big everything was. Jasmine let out an audible gasp as she looked upward. Structures reached higher than a megacity skyline, and then there was a roof over them. It was an enclosed military metropolis larger than any human city she’d known, cultivating a quiet fear and awe inside her.
The human tried not to be amazed with everything around her, but now that she was out in the open there was nothing stopping her from getting a good look and quietly buzzing about.
Rynard stood behind Jasmine, a giant protective shadow at her back while she slowly processed her surroundings. Her new translator was doing wonders in blocking her inner dialogue from the outside, but Xant could imagine the questions she was asking.
'It wasn’t what we expected at all either…' His own inner voice commented that military facilities were the best the galactic council had to offer, even grander than the central cluster stations.
While he had expected it to be larger than citizen habitats, the sparsity of open meeting places and the abundance of looming defensive structures was strange.
Perhaps the rangers had their recreation areas in another part of the complex.
The trio didn't have to wait long. Their escort arrived out of the crowds of aliens marching about their business, two armoured giants walking right up to them. Jasmine had seen their kind before on Nako's ship. They were tall and lanky, with white fur and black eyes on a squished ape/feline face. To Jasmine’s eyes, they looked like a cute pair of noodly yetis!
As she was lost in wonder, the guards too seemed to stare at the alien in equal amounts of curiosity and amazement.
"Rangers," Rynard addressed them sharply. "Where is the shuttle?" The guards snapped to attention, their long hands across their chests in the familiar salute. Jasmine noted their fingers were foot-long razor-like claws.
"Yessir, we are here to escort you and the maiden, sir!"
"Namegiver," Jasmine corrected firmly, and to her surprise, the rangers seemed a little shaken.
“Yessir, to escort the Namegiver and her entourage.”"So, escort us to the shuttle then," Rynard prompted them.
The rangers saluted again and turned on their heels, marching swiftly into the parting crowd.
“So what kind of aliens were they?!” Jasmine asked Rynard and Xant, wide-eyed with excitement.
Xant ear’s wiggled. Now it was Rynard’s turn to do the explaining.
“Savori, modifier level, ranger rank and messenger class. Didn't expect them to be so vat fresh..” Rynard muttered under his breath.
The shuttle was like a shipping container on a hydraulic rail, spacious enough to fit a couple of semi-trailers inside. Sparsely furnished inside, but on the floor were locking mechanisms for rangers to stand. Rynard and the guards took their places while Xant awkwardly found a spot right up at the front. Since they didn't usually build accommodations for citizens his size, he couldn’t lock into the mechanism but was loaded to the side with the cargo, held in place by a supercharged magnet.
"Jasi, over 'ere." The dino picked up the human and sat her on his shoulder. "Hold on, the acceleration can be a little strong," he mentioned as his feet were locked in place.
Jasmine gulped but prepared herself.
She waited for the sound of an engine but heard nothing! She expected a hum of electricity or even a laser-ish noise, but the shuttle began accelerating without any sort of warm-up at all! The growing speed was exhilarating! She held on so tight her knuckles went white, but the fear was quickly replaced with adrenaline, the pressure getting so strong she had to push back with her very being. She slid down the dino's front and stood on his chest, standing almost completely horizontal and parallel to the floor.
"Oh, so you’ve done this before then?" Rynard asked. Jasmine grinned ear to ear.
"Every year at the royal show!" she shouted. "The Gravatron’s my favourite ride! How long will it last?!"
Rynard laughed and checked the screen inside his helmet."ETA [30 minutes]." The captain replied and watched as Jasmine's face went from excitement to dread.
"Oh," she muttered before quickly climbing back onto Rynard’s shoulder. “10 minutes is fun, 30 minutes might push my stomach to its limits.” she let out a small grimace, “So Rynard, I've been meaning to ask, you're a Captain right?"
"Right."
"And Nako is a Lieutenant Commander, right?"
"Right."
"But Laandi said he was also a knight? And you said you could have been a knight, so how does it all work?"
"Right…" The captain rolled his free shoulder, wondering if he was really the right person to be telling her all this. "Well, at the bottom you got the Rangers, grunt soldiers still paying off their beneficiaries and the council. Then you got technicians and messengers, they work the weaponry, artillery and communications. If you live long enough to pay your dues you get two options: one, leave the military and find service in company security or inner council security, or two, stay on and become a knight."
"So, are you a knight or a captain now?" Jasmine asked. Rynard gave a short snort, he had always been so sure Jasmine was a military model, but he didn't know any military grade personnel outside of a Council liaison that asked this many questions.
"Both. My rank is knight, my position is Captain. Nako is a knight, his position is Lieutenant Commander."
"What's the difference between a captain and lieutenant commander?"
"Captains don’t need as much maintenance," he joked, but the confused look on the human’s face meant the joke didn't quite land. "Captains give orders for the day to day, we're in charge of Rangers and certain assigned knights. Commanders are in charge of a company, their Freq allows them to give out orders and strengthen morale of the troops. Lieutenant commanders, they’re above commanders and generally have their own fleets. We’ve only seen Sir Nako’s flag ship but he’s got some metal and a few pleats in his cloak so he’s got more than one ship under his command. And at the very top is the Knight Commander. There’s a dozen or so Knight Commanders that look after the entire GC and answer directly to Council members themselves.” Rynard recalled, wondering if any of the Knight Commanders that were installed while he was serving were still in their positions.
“Whoa, I had no idea Nako was so high up the command chain.” Jasmine commented.
“He hides it well, most lieutenants tend to be a bit more shouty, less listeny, but Nako’s an Imperium-trained lieutenant, so that might have something to do with it.” Rynard responded, Jasmine could feel the old dino shrug in his armour. “Not my place to do that kinda thinking, I just listen and get it done.”
“Hrk…” Jasmine gagged, slowly moving back to his shoulder once the speed evened out. “How much longer till we reach our destination?”
“... 20 [minutes.]”
“Ugh… Rynard, I might just, sit here quietly for a bit...”
“Heh, you’ll get used to the force soon, or else you won't be able to get anywhere! To cross this whole facility will take about [5 hours]!”
“What?! And how fast are we going?!” Jasmine exclaimed.
“Oh I dunno,” Rynard laughed. ”I’m just telling ya what the timer says,” Jasmine stared at him, frowning in thought. It was a little frustrating that the aliens seemed to talk about distance in terms of time. It was like they didn't care where or how they got there, only how long it would take. While she was always embarrassed about her gaps in knowledge, it was weird that only Xant or Nako were ever curious. Telling her it would take [5 hours] means nothing if she had no idea how fast they were going, or even by what means of travel they were going. What kind of travel causes such force to make the gravity act this way? Would anyone be able to tell her how these shuttles worked? another thing to add to her growing pile of questions, but it wasn't really a priority right now, so she shook her head and got back to the task at hand.
The shuttle came to a slow crawl as it drew closer to their destination and Jasmine slowly unclenched her grip on Rynard's armour. Her stomach twisting into knots during deceleration, it was like an elevator drop that never ended. Rynard watched the human stagger on her feet while making the same dizzying movements and heaving noises as she had done before projecting her stomach contents back at Essander. The memory was a fond one for him.
"You're looking a little unfinished there, Jasi." he teased.
"I'll be...fine," she tried to convince him. "I just need some air and to move about. How's Xant?"
Rynard looked over to the doctor, who had still not undocked himself from the cargo magnets.
"You ready, doc?" Rynard called, but Xant didn't move.
"I seem to be suffering from exposure fatigue…" he replied. "It has been too long since I last travelled at such velocity." He was a prisoner in his own suit.
Rynard had to laugh - watching citizens try to withstand his every day was just too entertaining. The captain scooped up Jasmine and plonked her back on his shoulder.
"You should get plenty of air up there," he commented, before wandering over to Xant, picking up the poor zenthi by his back and carrying him like luggage.
The Savori guards led the group to the engineering wing of Branch, and Jasmine was able to take in more of the marvellous facility. The lights were dim, but the open space was enormous. It was, after all, a spaceship hangar.
"Inform the engine lord, the Namegiver is awaiting his audience," Rynard instructed the guards on duty, they saluted and the collars on their suits lit up with a familiar blue comms light.
"Engine lord?" Jasmine asked, as she felt Xant's aura fluctuate with excitement and an undercurrent of embarrassment.
"He's the overseer of fleet maintenance, makes sure all the equipment works," Rynard paraphrased, and Xant nearly exploded.
"He is more than just a maintenance worker! An Engine Lord is the highest quality intelligence build in the entire Galactic Council! They calibrate and maintain shipbrains capable of navigating through jump gates! They have entire fleet designs memorised down to the cell components!" Xant did his best to make his limbs limber enough to move. "Engine lords are only commissioned by the Council, they are that exclusive."
"So he's someone a million times smarter than me, gotcha." Jasmine nodded, hoping that she could use the 'citizen model' excuse to waive any gaps in what should be her basic knowledge base.
A shiver ran down Jasmine's spine as she felt the Engine Lord approaching. He was heavy and buzzing, like static electricity, but it was… Sticky? Goopy? Gel-like? She couldn't quite put her finger on the exact description. Trying to figure out how to explain the sensation, Jasmine’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when she saw the Engine Lord and screamed in terror.
The Engine Lord was the embodiment of a H.R. Geiger vision come to life. His body was composed of scorpion, crayfish and Komodo dragon parts, moulded together to be as intimidating as possible. Slimey and scaly with too many legs, he had hands for feet and four pairs of horrifying Arvas arms sprouting from his chest while a long black tentacle coiled from his back twitching and writhing as he moved. Six black eyes stared at her from a large pulsing head, reminiscent of her Rajavan nightmares. Jasmine let off an involuntary pulse of instinctual fear.
"Oh, you flatter me, Maiden Namegiver" The Engine Lord greeted her. "You're surrounded by veteran soldiers, but it's my presence that scares you?… interesting."
Jasmine held onto Rynard's armour tightly as she fought back the fight response her brain was screaming at her.
"It will pass," her voice cracked, and she closed her eyes.
The Engine Lord crept closer, heavy footsteps echoing in the giant auditorium.
“Allow me to put you at ease. I am Engine Lord Viitoic, I command all the ships of Branch and I have no intention of eating you,” he laughed.
Viitoic felt...viscous.
“Eat me?” she asked, reeling back.
“Small beings such as yourself, that pulse was a bygone instinct of being prey, was it not? The Lieutenant was kind enough to share the research files with me. You are ‘unaltered’, yes?” he seemed to creep closer with every question, undoubtedly enjoying her discomfort.
“Uhhh…” Jasmine couldn't reply, and Xant stepped forward.
“The human race has not altered themselves through genetic engineering, Engine Lord, they have not developed the technology to their satisfaction. ”
“Oh, I recognize that voice.” Viitoic’s attention instantly turned to the smaller scientist. “You must be Dr Uru’Nav Xant. A pleasure to meet an esteemed colleague.”
“I’d hardly call myself an esteemed colleague, Engine Lord." Xant bowed his head politely.
“Such modesty! It is not every dynasty I get to meet a citizen scientist who helped discover two new genetic specimens. I listened to your work on Jothram, very impressive.”
While Xant had hidden himself away after his ordeal, he supposed his reputation hadn’t followed him into hiding.
“I wasn’t aware my accomplishments were that notable,” he answered honestly.
“They are when concerning your unpublished works,” Viitoic chuckled, “but you are not here to gloat on previous accomplishments, you are here to shed some light on the curiosities in our possession. This way,” Viitoic turned his unwieldy girth and led them into his workshops.
As they were brought further into the facility, Jasmine’s fear melted away, curiosity once again took hold and she tried to figure out what the strange tools and equipment could be used for.
Soon, the busy rooms gave way to a warehouse, where bright lights beamed down from above to the almost sterile space, standard issue tables were scattered about, and cloned engineers wandered between them.
Suddenly, Jasmine jumped off Rynard's shoulders and ran towards the displays before them, running past even Viitoic to reach the tables. Alien engineers stepped back to give her space as she stopped at the closest display. An entire table was filled with smartphones and tablets, more than twenty different models and makes, some with smashed screens, some factory fresh, others in protective or decorative cases.
Jasmine looked around and saw rows and rows of human items laid out and documented like it was an archeological dig. There must have been thousands of former belongings.
“Where did you get all of this?” she asked.
“From the remnants of the Rajavan hull,” Viitoic explained, finally catching up to the small human. “We are still processing what we’ve found in the exposed chambers of the ship, but it appears pirates may have made off with the best of the cargo.”
Jasmine felt her stomach sink.
These items belonged to others who had been torn from their homes.
How many people had been abducted? How many people had their lives destroyed by the Rajava? Too many, way too many… The astronomical odds of her survival at the hands of the gene-harvesters became even smaller, looking at what was left behind.
“What do you want to know?” she asked, her voice filled with melancholic acceptance.
“The purpose of these items,” Viitoic said, “and what use they would be to the Rajava.”
He cracked his tooth plates together, sending a shiver down Jasmine’s spine.
He constantly reminded her of the Rajava, the enemy of the Galactic council, and the current resident of her nightmares. Jasmine walked along the rows of tables, looking at how the items of Earth had been categorized, running a finger down the steel tables as she did so.
Phones, chargers, torches, toiletries, books, sleeping bags, pens, pencils, cameras, video cameras, bowls, plates, cutlery, beer bottles, tables and tables of clothes, there was even a section dedicated to beach balls… She noticed she was being watched, all eyes on her as she wandered through their workshop.
“... Honestly, there is very little here an intergalactic society would want,” she replied honestly. “This is all personal items and camping equipment. Maybe they’d want the computer components of the phones and cameras but there is nothing here that you guys don’t already have-” She stopped at a table filled with mirrors, gingerly picked up a small makeup mirror and stared at her reflection.
She almost didn’t recognise it.
Blue eyes that needed more sleep, long nose and rounded chin, her eyebrows had grown bushy and untamed. Her summer tan had faded to nothingness along with the small freckles that dotted her nose, her hair so short she could see the shape of her skull for the first time. The exposed translator peeked out from behind her right ear, small metal plates and wires grafted to her skull. She touched the scar above it, where alien numbers forever marked her.
Jasmine put the mirror face down. She wasn’t prepared for how much she had changed. Would she ever look like her old self again?
The next table was stacked with keys, so many car keys, and for a split second a set caught her eye.
“No…” she breathed, and reached for the beat-up chain, Kermit the frog and a cat bell jingled in her hands. “Could it be…?” Her heart skipped a beat, the fear and uncertainty was replaced with a fiery flash of determination.
“Engine Lord!” she bellowed. “Where is the car that belongs to this?!” she demanded, thrusting the set of keys into the alien monstrosity's line of sight. The Engine Lord tilted his head curiously at the tiny object.
“Car?” he repeated, but Jasmine pushed on furiously.
“Car, vehicle, transport, four-wheel drive, the piece of shit Pajero you pulled these from!!” she just about screamed. Viitoic had to take a step back, his back tentacle creeping out and pointing to the right side of the workshop. Rows and rows of cars, lined up by colour and size, stood waiting to be rummaged through.
Jasmine took off at full speed, leaving the aliens behind.
Her heart raced, adrenaline flushing through her veins as she sprinted towards the makeshift car yard. She didn't even slow down as she drew closer, climbing up on a Volkswagen beetle to get a better vantage point. She squealed when she saw it, Chamkov’s rusting red 1998 Mitsubishi Pajero, sitting right between a red BMW and a much younger model Land Rover.
She jumped off the beetle and made a beeline for the Pajero, gripping the key so tight it left an indent in her hand.
She steadied her shaking hands, sliding the key into the door with ease.
It opened on the first try.
She just about threw the door open, climbed in and slammed it behind her.
Jasmine sat in the driver's seat and cried tears of absolute joy.
She ran her hands over the dashboard and wheel. Kaitie's bag and towel still sat in the passenger seat untouched. She looked in the back and found Warren's canvas bag tucked under the driver's seat, Chamkov’s lying in the back with the fishing gear and her own sat neatly on the back seat. Jasmine climbed over the chairs to get to her yellow Ripcurl bag, pulling the zip back as she wiped tears from her face.
It was all still there.
Her clothes, her phone, notebook, hat… her scent.
She breathed in the faded body spray, sweat and dirt and fell back onto the seat, holding the open bag tightly to her chest.
She had gotten it back, a small piece of herself and her friends.
Voices interrupted her moment of euphoria, faint calls from Xant and Rynard.
She came to her senses and watched as they began to make their way over to her.
Carefully she climbed into the driver's seat, key stuck in the door. Curiosity began to take hold. She wound down the window and pulled the key from the doorlock before sliding it into the ignition.
There was no way it would start… would it?
She turned it over to the first click.
The dashboard came to life.
Lights and gauges flickered and moved, the radio blared static.
She squealed as the battery warmed up the old bush-basher.
Jasmine decided to chance it, turning over the key to start the engine.
It was like waking up an old angry tractor. Fumes spluttered from the tailpipe as she gently tapped on the accelerator. The engine complained, loudly, screeching and squealing before the old fuel flooded the pistons and the V6 engine roared.
“YES!” she shouted in victory, but it was not yet complete.
She leaned back and opened the armrest, pulling out the ‘shortlist’ of Chamkov CDs. There was only one song she needed right now.
The song of her people.
She loaded the red and silver disk into the player, wound down the windows, turned up the speakers to 11 and let Angus Young's guitar blast through the speakers…
Xant and Rynard stopped in their tracks when they heard the ghastly howl of an ancient combustion engine. It was terrifying. Xant had never heard a mechanism make such a deafening roar before, he didn't even know it was possible! Even ship engines did not match the ferocity of the steel box moving toward them, Jasmine's grinning face behind the glass.
Then came the alarms.
It was the only way he could describe the noise, it was rhythmic, repeating itself over and over with impressive volume blasting from inside the human contraption. He covered his ears, how could Jasmine stand to be anywhere near it?!
His body quivered as he saw that not only could she stand it, but she was yelling along with it.
Rynard scooped up the doctor as the vehicle drove itself closer to them, turning to its side before coming to a full stop.
The aliens stood in shock as Jasmine opened the passenger door and screamed over the noise.
“WANNA COME FOR A RIDE?” She grinned.
“What?” Xant stammered, her aura promising excitement and exhilaration.
“GET IN, XANT! YOU’LL LOVE IT!” Jasmine laughed, throwing a bag into the back compartment.
Xant looked to Rynard, who was just as confused as he was.
“I mean,” the captain muttered “she’s not upset…”
“She looks like she’s on glass...” Xant muttered back, but the ever-alluring power of Human Freq was convincing him otherwise. He had seen Jasmine happy before, but this was a whole other level of thrilling.
The doctor climbed into the vehicle warily, Jasmine lowering the seat so his tail could fit. It was so loud, if not for his suit it would have physically hurt.
“HOLD ON!” Jasmine warned,
“Hold on to what--?” Xant started when he saw Jasmine begin to operate the machine manually. Shifting levers and stepping on pedals, the force of acceleration was startling, they took off and continued to speed up while Jasmine weaved the steel death trap through the rows of human tech. The human-controlled the machine, shouting out loud and sending out pulses in time with the blaring alarm.
“I WAS CAUGHT, IN THE MIDDLE OF A RAILROAD TRACK!”
To his horror,
“I LOOKED AROUND, AND I KNEW THERE WAS NO TURNING BACK”
He came to the realisation,
“MY MIND RACED, AND I THOUGHT, WHAT COULD I DO-OOOH?”
That this wasn’t an alarm,
“AND I KNEW, THERE WAS NO HELP, NO HELP FROM YOU!”
It was music.
“SOUND OF THE DRUMS, BEATING OF MY HEART!
THE THUNDAH OF GUNS, TORE ME APART!!”
Violent and energetic, she sang with passion unmarred by the effects of alcohol and the words flowed as naturally as she walked or breathed. Xant felt an unbottled catharsis as she poured herself into the cacophony of the machine and its music. Her aura emanating bold, bright and brash.
“YOU’VE BEEN,” she drew a deep breath and slammed the pedal with her foot and an electric pulse exploded from her body, “THUNDAHSTRUCK!”
Xant held on tightly, not for the force of the car, but to shield himself from the human's blazing light.
She drove the car straight up to Viitoic, locking its wheels in place, and before Xant had even the time to collect himself she opened the door (without turning the machine off!) and climbed up on the roof so she was eye to eyes with the Engine Lord.
“Engine Lord! This vehicle and all its contents belong to me,” she commanded, bright and clear, “All of these items once belonged to a human with hopes and memories, they will be treated with the respect they deserve.”
“Yes…Namegiver,” Viitoic spluttered, shocked the once tiny, frightened citizen could turn her Freq around so quickly and command him.
“I have no fucking clue what the Rajava would want with our inferior tech, but I get the feeling those disgusting assholes were more concerned about us…”
Viitoic blinked and stepped back.
He looked at the dozens of vehicles, hundreds of belongings and remembered the Rajavan transport ship was capable of transporting thousands of these beings.
If this one little human was powerful enough to rock the will of an Engine Lord, what perverse horrors could the Rajava breed with millions of liters of their raw material?
Suddenly, the curiosity of the items lost his interest.
“I suppose you’re right, Namegiver. The worth of the items is certainly inferior. They are yours to do with as you wish.” He bowed his head. “My assistants will help you with any inquiries you might have.”
Viitoic slowly slunk away. He suddenly needed to prepare himself. He needed to have many, many words with the Lieutenant Commander.
Jasmine stood proudly, having banished her fear and the swell of confidence lifted her spirits. She climbed back off the roof, slid into the driver’s seat and smiled at Xant.
The doctor was still holding on rather tightly, wondering what possessed Jasmine to speak to an Engine Lord in such a way.
“Jasmine… have we finished with the vehicle?”
“No, not yet, there's still one more thing I need to check out,”
“What?”
“That,” Jasmine pointed through the windscreen, Xant lowered his head and the object in question became apparent. Towering above and behind the rows of cars was a single, large vehicle, much more to the scale of Galactic Council ships, but sleeker, and elegant.
“What is it?” Xant asked curiously.
“That,” Jasmine smirked, shifting the Pajero into gear, “is a superyacht.”
-*-
Chapter 5: Choosing Battles
Nako stood pacing in his officer’s quarters listening to the never-ending flood of reports on his terminal. He was currently stuck in his office, mitigating the shitstorm left in his wake caused by the Rajavan transport vessel and the supposed contents therein.Commanders delivered sector reports, inquiries about ship maintenance, and thinly disguised requests for having a closer look at the Rajavan vessel as soon as it was available to do so. Knight Commander Kotorn had explicitly grounded Nako for bringing this ‘interference’ to his quadrant, but the Knight Commander had also left almost immediately with his own massive fleet after the pirate armada, thanks to Nako mapping the location of the incident.
It was during this commotion and the KC’s absence that Nako was able to slip away to secure Jasmine and the other lifeforms from Esaander. Disobeying his commanding officer’s orders was reckless, downright rogue if some questions were to be asked, but great reward was not without great risk.
Which was why burying all reports of his leaving was a prudent matter.
If he could cover the instances of his absence with enough mundanity, Kotorn may not even notice the blip of time he was gone. The Knight Commander had more important matters to focus his attention on than the 38 routine patrols under his command.
Tifera stood ever vigilant, screening the messages on Nako’s terminal for him to listen to.
C Uku’Tav: Salutations Lieutenant Commander. I, Commander Uku’Tav of the OCHRE 93633401, am requesting extra recreation time for my rangers, they have not engaged the enemy in nearly four patrols and are growing restless without combat. I fear they may be too eager to launch into a fight and resist my command. Awaiting your response.
Nako continued to pace as the message finished and his Captain, Tifera waited for her lord’s reply. He turned on his heel, a focus on the task on hand.
LC Nako: Commander Uku’tav your request for recreation is denied, have your ship’s patrol pulled out of rotation and apply for either patrol in sectors 130 or 156. Both routes have had an abundance of activity in the past few [weeks] and the extra presence may be needed to stamp out the pirate’s confidence.
“Very good sire,” Tifera nodded as she sent off Nako’s order. Her Lord continued to pace.
“Bring up the next report,” he demanded.
“Yes-” Tifera scrolled through the terminal list, but a notification blocked her path. “My lord, it appears the Knight Commander’s fleet has returned to the system.”
Nako stopped his pacing.
“How many reports have we finished?” he asked.
“[120] patrol reports [94] asset requests, [64] miscellaneous reports, in total, [278] orders have been actioned.”
Nako let his shoulders relax, if that wasn't enough audchive files to bury his absence then Kortorn was officially out for his reassignment.
His plan, providing it stayed intact, was to be as quiet and polite as possible. He didn't need any unwanted attention during this time.
“Is the fleet making an address?” he queried
“The channels are on standby, the fleet hasn't made an approach to Branch,” Tifera answered.
“Good, until the Knight Commander makes his address we still have work to do. Do you have the isolated copies of the Namegiver files?”
Tifera nodded and proudly presented Nako with a dataslate case.
“As you ordered, my Lord,” she replied staunchly.
Nako looked over the case and the eight dataslates nestled safely inside, containing all the reports of the human (previously unknown alien) technology and the Esaander files recorded by Dr Xant, and most importantly including all accounts of Jasmine’s physical and frequency prowess. For his own records of course, in case anything were to happen outside of his parameters, and to serve as a small piece of insurance to cover his loss, or to rally a cause.
“Sire, the Knight commander is making his address.”
“Broadcast it.”
Tifera closed the dataslate case and tapped the interface of the terminal. A holographic image of Kotorn stood proudly before them, his cape dishevelled and dragged on the ground and his ceremonial sword drawn for dramatic effect.
KC Kotorn: Rangers of the Council, on this 56th [day] of 2nd quarter, year 306 of the Rejuvenation dynasty is a day to be remembered. The Pirate Armada of sector 138 has finally been wounded beyond repair, we chased them for [weeks] with only the faintest of ship trails to follow, but deserters and cowards are no match for the council’s might. No longer will our citizens fear to travel our routes, no longer will we lose ships to their ambush tactics. Together, we can declare this sector RECLAIMED!
Nako’s antennae twitched. That was a very bold statement for Kotorn to make, wonderful news to be sure, another sector of space safe and out of savagery’s hands, but the news also made the lieutenant uneasy. The pirates had given this sector’s military a combative challenge for [decades] and now, after only a month they fall to Kotorn and his mid-sized fleet? Two months after Nako found them picking the bones of a Rajavan Transport?
Perhaps he needed to move his plans forward to compensate.
“Sire,” Tifera said to him, “shall we send your congratulatory address?”
Nako puffed out his chest and folded his hands behind his back.
“Yes, begin recording.”
LC Nako: Congratulations Knight Commander, this is a victory for the council and all civilised beings. I await a formal address so that I might compliment your victory in person.
Civil and punctual, and with any luck Kotorn would be in good enough of a mood to contact him last, or not at all. The usually brooding commander certainly seemed to revel in his victory-
“Sire, you are being hailed by the KC,” Tifera interrupted him.
That caught Nako off guard, his stance shifting so his cloak covered his body and he lowered his head for the holographer to capture.
“Answer it,” he ordered.
The holographic image of Kotorn appeared before them, his attendants scuttered around refolding and pinning his cape and emblems.
KC Kotorn: Lieutenant Commander, thank you for your message, although it was a little curt for a reclamation announcement.
LC Nako: I suspected you might receive so many messengers that one more lengthy address, especially from me, was the last thing you may have wanted.
KC Kotorn: Huh, I suppose you're right lieutenant, you're finally beginning to think about others for a change. Since your address was so short, I hope you were busy while I was gone?
LC Nako: I have put all my affairs in order, no notable conflicts or occurrences have happened in your absence.
KC Kotorn: Hmmm good good, it seems that grounding you was a wise decision on my part. Lastly, did you find a buyer for the Rajavan hull?
LC Nako: … it is currently in evaluation, I am waiting to hear back from Viitoic before i can properly auction it off.
KC Kotorn: It doesn't need an evaluation, it needs to be handed off to a corporation. Sell it, get the contribution credits and return to active duty protecting our citizens. You're a Ranger, not an info-broker.
LC Nako: May I humbly offer an opposing opinion? The amount of unusual findings could help us-
KC Kotorn: I never accepted the offer of your opinion, give the damned vessel to the scientists and the companies. We need to focus on being out there protecting the people and you filling the Engine lord's time with unrelated work is taking him away from what he’s supposed to be doing!
Our ships need to be maintained, above all else.
LC Nako: Even at the cost of the Rajava consuming another creator species?
KC Kotorn: That is none of your concern. I have given you an order lieutenant, we protect the citizens of the council and you are close to losing sight of that goal.
LC Nako: I have not lost my sight, I protect all civilized beings, even those the council has not yet recognised.
KC Kotorn: What have you been up to Nako?!
LC Nako: I am acting benefactor of the ambassador ‘Namegiver’ until the correct council members can be contacted-
KC Kotorn: WHY ARE YOU BOTHERING WITH THIS?! SHIP HER OFF TO THE CLOSEST COMPANY, WE ARE SOLDIERS NOT DIPLOMATS! DO THE JOB YOU WERE BRED AND PAID FOR TO DO!! I WILL NOT HEAR ANOTHER STUPID OPINION FROM THAT SWOLLEN HEAD OF YOURS, THAT IS AN ORDER!!”
LC Nako: … Acknowledged Knight Commander,
KC Kotorn: IF YOU CONTINUE LIKE THIS YOUR AMBITIONS WILL BURN YOU FROM THE INSIDE OUT, AND I WILL BE GLAD TO SEE YOU REDUCED TO ASHES!
Link terminated
Nako lifted his head and turned his back to the terminal’s holo-display, grinding his mandibles with distaste.
“Captain, make a copy of that conversation and share it with the Namegiver ”
“Yes sire…”
Nako watched as Tifera slid the dataslate marked for Kotorn’s conversation into the terminal slot. He glared as the computer imprinted the device with the memory of the conversation. It was pushed out with a small gasp of air and Nako snatched it up, tucking it underneath his cloak for later viewing. The terminal’s notification went off again, and Nako was about ready to ignore the machine entirely but Tifera spoke up before he could give the order.
“It is the Engine lord, shall I let it through?”
“Only for him,” Nako sighed.
EL Viitoic: Salutations Lieutenant.
LC Nako: Salutations Engine Lord, to what do I owe the pleasure?
EL Viitoic: I think we can push formality aside Lieutenant, just this once.
LC Nako: Oh? You don't want to camouflage your intentions? Should I be worried Engine Lord?
EL Viitoic: Very much so, when you advised me that you had the creator species responsible for the trinkets, I wasn't expecting the literal command bomb you let walk into my facility. I would have prepared a more welcoming visit.
LC Nako: I did say she was a creator species, as long as you treat her with the same respect you do me you shouldn't have run into any problems. She’s a civilised being, rather polite considering, what did you do to cause her offence?
EL Viitoic: Slander. I did nothing. She was intimidated by my very presence at first but I did nothing to warrant being commanded in such a manner.
LC Nako: Oh? She commanded you did she? Since when did you fall prey to such Frequencies?
EL Viitoic: My strength of will is not the discussion at hand. Lieutenant, how many more of these Namegivers exist?
LC Nako: Currently? One.
EL Viitoic: One? How do you justify such a ludicrous assumption?
LC Nako: Engine lord, when I approached the Rajavan vessel, pirates had gutted the entire thing, and we only managed to gather the few stasis pods that were not torn from their holdings. She is the only creator found among a mass of animals. If her planet has not been consumed and converted it is still behind enemy lines in the unknown.
EL Viitoic: Animals? There were other genetic resources aboard the transport found intact?!
LC Nako: Yes, but the Namegiver is currently their legal benefactor, if you want your hands on any genetic material you have to negotiate with her. I suggest apologising for a start.
EL Viitoic: ….
LC Nako: Engine lord?
EL Viitoic: … Lieutenant, you are putting the fate of the council in a very dangerous position. If the Rajava are able to re-emerge with amalgamations created from her entire species then we may be once again fighting for our lives.
LC Nako: Engine lord, from what I’ve observed, the Human needs a consciousness intact to be of any use. The Rajava may not have been able to work out how to deconstruct them.
EL Viitoic: Even without their Clentessia hive mind the Rajava are still dangerous Lieutenant. Start negotiations for her genetic library, we do not want to be left behind in this arms race.
Link terminated.
Nako was becoming frustratingly disappointed with how the upper echelons were handling this.
While he didn't expect a celebratory promenade every time he entered a room, he would have thought they would have been more excited to meet another creator race. Another friend to fight alongside them in the battle for peace and prosperity was always welcome, and the potential benefits from this particular creator species were as yet incalculable.
“Captain, go down to engineering and ensure the Namegiver is not under any duress.”
“Immediately Sire.” Tifera bowed deeply and practically ran out of his office.
Nako lingered, there was something he wanted to do before he faced Jasmine in the flesh again.
Approaching the west side wall, he waved his hand across the sensor and opened his private training room. It was large enough for him to practice flying drills, with weapons and training dummies all stacked neatly to one side, but they remained in their cases for now. A small glass case filled with medical treatments for minor injuries was his priority, taking out two vials of depressor chems and keeping them on hand.
The Freq amplifier stood awaiting his approach.
The device broadcast warcry level frequencies, so he could train under combat conditions, he had slates and slates of previously recorded battles at his disposal.
But his current training file was unique.
It wasn't a slate at all, but a Freqband.
He waved his hand over the sensor.
“Deploy at full power, two minute duration,” he ordered the device.
“File ready to deploy in 10, 9, 8…”
Nako removed his cape and widened his stance, bracing his nerves for the onslaught he was about to endure.
“...3, 2, 1.”
He closed his eyes and waited for the pain.
The silence was deafening.
The room grew heavy and dark, the knowledge of other soldiers just outside the walls vanished.
He was completely and utterly alone.
Then the cries of pure anguish lashed his very being.
“ARHHHHHHHHH! MUM DAD NO, NO, NO,-”
Jasmine’s howls were ones he was growing very familiar with. His heart felt like it was torn from his body as his fingers and face boiled. Crashing noises accompanied the wails, and he felt the emotions tearing him down. Anger, despair, hopelessness and loneliness smashed into him like a hammer.
Then, it stopped. Nako wrestled with his hands for the first aid chems, slamming the vials into his armour. The suit automatically administered it throughout his nervous system, calming the burning sensation that pained him.
“Two minute duration complete, would you like to continue?” the amplifier asked him cheerfully.
“No,” he answered, smiling.
He stood his ground this time. Little by little, he would learn to withstand the onslaught, then not even Kortorn would be able to command him.
-*-