Nova Wars

The first thing that Hetmwit noticed when he stepped into the corridor beyond the airlock entry room was the sheer size of the corridor. At least six meters tall, five meters wide, with a wide three meter stripe of a blackish material that sparkled slightly. The second thing he noticed was all the holograms that were projected bare inches from the bulkheads. There was a dizzying array of holosigns, paint stencils on the walls, pictograms, and icons. Where the Olipnat Concordiant used nanite light systems, this corridor had flat panels emitting light from the infrared all the way into the ultraviolet, all of the markings and holograms in a comfortable range of light for a Pagrik.

It took a moment, Hetmwit realized, for the colors to stabilize for his eyes. At first they were almost too bright, almost white, then they cooled off into a pale blue with white lettering for some, reddish orange for others.

He reached out and tapped Smiley, pointing at the stencils.

"Log them for lexicon work," Hetmwit ordered.

"Logging," Smiley said in his synthesized voice.

Hetmwit looked at one flat hologram in particular. It had red edging, was white with blue stick figures. In the middle was a massive insect, a head on top of a thorax that nearly filled the drawing outline of the hallway. It had thick legs that angled up from the abdomen, were at a nearly seventy degree angle to point back down, had one more joint to straighten the lowest part of the leg out, then wide footpads. Against the wall, on either side of the insect, were other races, backs against the wall.

As Hetmwit looked at it, the visual rotated, to show the insect was hurrying down the corridor and beings were moving out of the way.

Looking down the corridor Hetmwit realized the insect must be of huge size, which made them massive crew members.

The sign changed to show a large bipedal figure, obvious heavy power armor, moving down the hallway. The insects were flattened against the wall, along with other races. The picture turned, to show it from the side, and there was a long rank and file that marched by the other races.

It changed again, showing smaller races, even a big insect, dragging a cable down the hallway, with everyone else pressing their backs against the wall.

Hetmwit got it.

It was a reminder to clear the way.

Hetmwit nodded. He saw those images every day on the ship he had just left. Just daily reminders.

Still, he looked around the passageway, marveling at the size, the cleanliness, the obvious functionality. He looked at more of the holograms, realizing that they showed duty schedules and other information.

At one point an iris opened and scanned his face. He winced when the light shined into his eyes, a white spot appearing in his vision in each eyes as the laser scanned his eye then speared through his iris to hit the back of his eyes and stimulate the optic nerve directly as the other lasers put a grid on his face through the face shield of his helmet.

He winced, reaching up and rubbing his face.

He looked at the duty schedule. It was obvious to him, having seen plenty of them in his career.

Smiley was scanning everything. Hefty was just standing there, loaded up with pouches and satchels full of water, food, and atmosphere tanks.

Hetmwit wandered around for several hours, marveling at the massive ship. He stared at the ledge at the top of the corridors, wondering why there were small holograms on the wall next to the ledge for a little while, then shrugging. At first he wondered if it was for robotic units to move around, but he discarded that idea when he saw the poles and the ladders leading down to the floor or up through openings to the next decks.

He found staterooms, gyms, libraries, a theater, briefing rooms, large auditoriums, mess halls, kitchens, fresher areas, maintenance workshops.

All brightly lit, holograms up.

He noticed that the ship was almost completely silent. The doors made a whooshing noise when they opened. The elevators creaked and growled and vibrated slightly, but unless it was machinery working, the ship was silent.

He rested several times, using bunk rooms. Twice he went through the dressers and cabinets.

Some of the crew were bipeds. Some were quadraped, others appeared to have four legs and two arms, others had four legs and four arms (if you counted bladearms). Some had tails, some had abdomens and thoraxes, others had upper bodies and flanks.

To Hetmwit it was a dizzying array of life forms. The Concordiant only had four species, and they were all roughly the same. This ship's crew had insects, giant lizards, furry bipeds, all manner of creatures.

The sheer size of the ship made sense to Hetmwit. Some of the crew were very large, and those crew needed to be able to get everywhere within the ship.

Four times he went back to the dropship to sleep.

On one of the trips he spotted something odd.

It was near one of the small ladders that extended down from the ledge at the top of the corridor. Sitting on the floor, sparkling in the bright light.

He knelt down, looking at it.

It was a wrench.

He used one of the magnifier settings on his visor that he normally used when removing small leads, leaning down.

It had markings on it. It was obviously a tiny powered impact wrench, built for very small hands. Its surface was shiny, but he could see tiny scratch marks and scuffs, letting him know it had been used quite a bit in its lifetime.

After taking multiple images of it, he continued on his explorations.

Twice large robots thumped by, their tiny heads swiveling back and forth. They were heavily armored, a six-barrel chaingun for their left arm, a clawed hand for their right. They were large and intimidating, and Hetmwit got out of their way, Smiley and Hefty copying him as he pressed his back against the wall and watched them move past.

Several times flying drones buzzed by, all of them only a third of a meter below the ceiling. All of them scanning as they went.

After he slept the third time in a stateroom, he woke up, sat up, and immediately backed up.

He could read the writing on the holograms.

The hologram was informing him that blue shift was on relaxation shift, red shift was on sleep shift, and green shift was on work shift. There were departments listed in boxes in the hologram.

He stared at it, wondering why he could read it. True, the colors had felt right for the last few days, the icons had started showing a silhouette of a Pagrik more and more often, but being able to read it was strange.

He tapped through a few of the icon menus, almost habitually picking out the maintenance section. He found himself tabbing and poking his way through to robotic maintenance and repair.

He was startled to see the number of workplaces listed. Everything from 'robotic design and fabrication' to 'robotic systems repair' to 'robotic systems mass reclamation' areas.

He tapped the 'shift registry' section by accident when he went to close the menu.

The lasers came out, scanned his face through his helmet visor, then winked out.

He braced for alarms and the horde of killer robots he expected to descend on him.

Instead the system beeped.

PLEASE HOLD STILL the hologram flashed.

It tried again. Then again. Then finally beeped.

CREWMAN LOGGED - SPECIES: CEMTRARY VARIANT IV; SERVICE RECORD CORRUPTED - REFILING

There was a slight pause.

PLEASE REPORT TO CERTIFICATION, TESTING AND EDUCATIONAL CENTER FOUR FOR SKILL AND EDUCATION CERTIFICATION

ISSUING TEMPORARY ID

There was a flash and a plastic smartcard materialized on the desk, like dust lifting up and solidifying.

Hetmwit stared at the card. It had his facial image on it, as well as numbers and acronyms that were little more than gibberish.

When he picked up the card a line appeared in his vision on the floor. A blue line that read "CTEC-04" in small letters repeated roughly every five meters.

"Well, let's go," Hetmwit said.

Smiley stood up, moving slowly to conserve battery power. Hefty did the same.

Hetmwit moved through the ship, following the blue line. Out of curiosity he tried going down a side corridor. He heard a beeping in his ear and the line turned into a loop in front of him, with arrows along the loop to point back behind him.

It was, well, kind of nifty.

When Hetmwit entered the room marked CTEC-04 he found computer terminal consoles, what appeared to be VR bays, shelves of physical books and datapads, even doors that led to what looked like classrooms.

He sat down at the terminal that had a bluish glow around it. The glow went out and Hetmwit waited.

There was a chime and a blue light appeared above Hetmwit's head that pulsed with the chime. The chime sounded again after sixty seconds, then again. And again. And then again.

The screen came on.

TRAINING NCOIC OR OIC NOT RESPONDING

QUIT/RETRY/SELF-STUDY?

Hetmwit stared at the three boxes, then looked around.

The room was brightly lit, comfortable, and seemed fairly non-threatening.

He tapped the "SELF-STUDY" box and waited.

"INPUT LAST NAME AND LAST FOUR" appeared.

He carefully typed in the closest approximation he could.

It had him repeat it six times before it responded with anything more than "NO INPUT DETECTED" and asking him to try again.

PERSONNEL FILES CORRUPT. REBUILDING HETMWIT-1723 FILE - PLEASE WAIT

A little tray appeared as hologram. It showed little icons moving and Hetmwit realized it was a match game. He sat there playing it while the computer worked.

It took four tries for it to accept the data he plugged in.

He told the truth, that way it would be easier to remember.

It told him to report to medical for a medical check as his induction medical paperwork was corrupt and/or missing.

He followed the blue line with the red core to the medical section.

Part of him expected menacing robots and whirring saws and long pointed needles. He checked the instruments on his vac-suit. The atmosphere was within breathing range, although oxygen seemed a little low and there was more nitrogen than he was used to.

Weirdly enough, after there was a tingle in his mouth, sinuses, and throat, he had no trouble breathing.

Instead, he merely removed his vac-suit and stood naked in front of a soft padded rectangle. Lasers played over him, then there was a hum. A hologram appearing in midair in front of him told him to sit down, so he did.

Then he had to repeat the whole thing four times.

Then he was told to return to the CTEC-04 again. With a bit of startlement, he realized that his vac-suit was gone. In its place was a uniform, boots, underclothing. There was even an earpiece that had a reticle that went over his left eye.

Nervously, he put it on.

It fit comfortably. Even the boots and hock-socks.

He walked back, Smiley and Hefty following him once he left the medical center.

He marveled over the automation. He stopped several times to look at signs. The reticle identified the different species. Treana'ad were big insects. Mantid were smaller ones. There were ones called Kobolds, ones called Telkan, a big octoped called a Lanaktallan, and all kinds of species. The reticle identified the ledge as "GREENIE MAINTENANCE ACCESS".

He had to admit, the reticle was handy. He paused several times to go through the pupil directed context menu with the blink to confirm system. He found he could switch the glowing pathway he could see with both eyes to an arrow or a wedge in the reticle and back.

Nifty.

Back in the CTEC he sat down and it started testing him. Basic knowledge.

He stared at one icon.

ADAPTIVE LANGUAGE CORTEX POLYMORPHIC HOLOGRAPHIC SYSTEM flashed on the upper right.

He stared at it, thinking it through.

Somehow, the system had scanned that part of his brain he used for speech, for reading and writing, and then ensured that he could read the holograms.

He tried to think of how it would be done, but he lost it at scanning the cortex.

But he did nod along with his thoughts.

The ship was designed for a dizzying array of species. That would mean a large nation. With so many species, Hetmwit was sure it was larger than the Concordiant. Which meant that some areas could undergo linguistic drift even though they were part of the star nation.

The nifty system would ensure that new transfers to the ship would not have to go through weeks or months of language training.

It made perfect sense.

He requested a datapad for additional study while the computer kept processing his answers. He noted that it was having trouble with it. Not as much as the Concordiant systems did, but it still glitched out mid-processing more than once.

He used the datapad to look up the reticle. It was a standard piece of equipment to issue to beings who did not have optical cybernetic augmentations. That made him raise an eyebrow. Cybernetics had long ago been proven to be impossible. The brain and nervous system could not control electronic or digital systems.

Apparently, the most minimal was a small bead at the corner of his eye, right behind the tear duct. He could even get circuitry, invisible to him, etched into the transparent surface of his inner eyelid.

He was surprised at the depth and intricacy of function of the reticle and ear piece. It would translate speech and writing for him, give him directions, assist him with tasks by consulting the ship's library for schematics and technical manuals.

It usually took three or four tries to access a manual. He knew not to try to access anything that he was denied access to due to security clearances. He had no desire to get knocked down and possibly stepped on by a security robot.

One had broken his foot that way.

He took tests, answered questions, and consulted the datapad as the day went on. After nearly six hours, he was informed that the CTEC was closing. At his request he was shown to a mess hall, then to where he could order.

The menu was full of all kinds of different foods, none of them familiar, but according to the strange ship, perfectly healthy for him.

Although it did give him two vitamin supplements and 'fortified juice' to go with his dinner.

For relaxation time, he went to the gym. The robots there worked and helped him work out safely.

To his surprise, he had been assigned a locker when he had asked to be assigned a gym. He knew he should not have been surprised to find out he had been assigned a bunk in a large room that contained multiple cubicles, each with a set of bunk beds. Two wall lockers on one side facing the bunk beds, the back of the wall lockers on the opposite side of the bunks, formed the right and left walls. The bulkhead formed the back wall, and a curtain could be drawn for privacy.

At his request, he found an area to plug in Hefty and Smiley, then went back and went to bed.

The bed was surprisingly comfortable.

He quickly fell into the routine. Wake up. Physical Fitness. Meal. Testing. Meal. Testing. Meal. Relaxation time. Lights out. Sleep. Repeat.

He attended 'remedial courses' as well as continued his testing.

There was really no difference being on the alien ship from his own ship.

Well, that wasn't entirely true.

To Hetmwit, the alien ship seemed more, well, friendly.

He noticed, as time went by, that the ship had less and less of a tendency to forget about him.

It was a little gratifying.

Finally, he finished his testing.

He was ordered to put on his dress uniform and report to ASSEMBLY ROOM 317. He had chosen the closest approximation to his own awards that were in the system and found that it had not demanded paperwork.

The ship's computer obviously didn't find anything strange about his awards.

He dressed in the uniform, which he had to admit was pretty sexy. He adjusted the sash with the holographic icons on it, made sure his shoes were polished, then left the room. He followed the arrow, which led him to a seat next to a stage.

The hologram came on.

GRADUATING REMEDIAL TRAINING CLASS [ERROR] appeared above the stage.

There was silence.

The reticle popped up a hologram.

GENERATING BACKUP CAPTAIN

GENERATING KENTAI CAPTAIN

GENERATING DEATH-KAWAII CAPTAIN

ACTIVATING RESARTUS PROTOCOL

Hetmwit wondered what all of that had meant.

His earpiece pinged.

Hetmwit read it all eagerly. He started to use the context menus on his trusty (if now worn) datapad to see what all of it was when the curtain at the back of the stage were pushed aside and a new creature stepped through.

What appeared wasn't like anything that he had learned about.

A biped over two meters tall, roughly a meter wide and a fifth of a meter thick. It had black and gray fur on the top of its head on the bottom of the jaw. There was black and silver hair below its nose and above the upper lip. It was dressed in a blue uniform, with white striping, brass buttons, and knee high black boots. It also wore white gloves on the five fingered hands.

It grabbed the lectern and looked out over the empty audience chairs.

"Computer," it said, it's voice nearly a bark.

Hetmwit smiled. He'd tried that and never gotten an answer.

"Emergency VI," it stated.

Nothing.

It looked around.

It saw Hetmwit.

It leaned on the lecturn and stared at Hetmwit.

"I'm going to need a ship's status, seaman," the creature said. He looked around. "Starting where everyone else is."

"Who are you?" Hetmwit asked.

The biped stared at him with icy blue eyes.

"Emergency Artificial Captain Henrik Vander Decken, Confederate Space Force," it said.