Academy #5 - "Trial By Fire and Ice" - copyright 1994 by Dave Van Domelen A Coherent Comics UnIncorporated Production ============================================================================= [cover shows Big Sal lifting an alien-looking tank over his head as it fires its cannon uselessly. He's grinning widely and triumphantly.] ============================================================================= Excerpt from _Beyond UFOs: A Modern History of Extraterrestrial Contact_, Academy Press, 2018 CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION ------------------------- [...] [Sidebar] The Planetary Confederation The primary interstellar government in this part of space is a loose confederation of worlds and minor empires known in English as the Planetary Confedertaion. Little is known of its internal politics, and most knowledge of the body comes from their Terran representative Delta Rose (served 1971-1997). Originally, the alien race known as the T!rir dominated nearly half the galaxy. But as their vitality waned, their empire did as well. They lost most of their original holdings and were forced by ecological factors to abandon their homeworld. Retreating to the hinterland of their former empire, the T!rir found a new world on the verge of space flight and formed an alliance with this race, the Santari. With T!rir technology and Santari vigor, the area was stabilized and saved from the descent into anarchy that followed the breakup of the T!rir empire. However, the Santari culture was more egalitarian than the hivemind mentality of the T!rir, and this new interstellar body reflected that. Other races were not enslaved, although they often were effectively forced to join by the superior technology of the Santari and T!rir. The populace of the world would demand the advanced technology membership offered, and eventually the planet would join. Thus, the Planetary Confederation evolved, with the Santari and T!rir occupying de facto leadership roles. Due to the shorter lifespans and more individualistic mentalities of the non-T!rir races in the Confederation, it was impractical to hold territory as large as the old empire had been, and the PC reached a theoretical maximum size of about 1000 light years across. Advances in hyperspace technology gradually expanded this sphere, but only gradually. Realization that their resources were finite now, and that their own technologies had limits, the Santari and T!rir decided that no more undeveloped planets should be admitted. Rather, they should be allowed to reach space on their own before being asked to join. In this way it was hoped that a new approach to space travel would be developed that would allow for expansion. At the time of Delta Rose's recall in 1997, Earth was still a closed world. Although we did have independent space flight, it was by means that could not be duplicated, as it turned out that the Magene was unique to Terra. No reliable reports exist as to the current state of the PC. Constrained by their technology, it is only a matter of time before civil war erupts and the Confederation splits into smaller political bodies more able to expand again. [sidebar] Races of the Planetary Confederation (organized in order of importance) T!rir: One of the oldest races in the galaxy, their history stretches back nearly a million years as a spacefaring race, and several million before that as a race confined to one world. The closest Terran analogue to their biology is the insect. Approximately 2m tall, they possess exoskeletons but presumably have a more efficient method of respiration and circulation than Terran insects do. Socially the comparison is much closer, as they function with a hive mentality, setting up a natural aristocracy and a biologically determined caste system. Lifespans can reach over 300 Solar Years, more if the individual enters hibernation. The ability to suspend life processes enabled the T!rir to keep a galactic-scale empire together using ships that were limited to travelling a light year every Solar Hour. However, fertility of the species has apparently dropped dramatically, and perhaps as few as a million now live. Despite their small numbers and lack of cultural vibrancy, the T!rir wield great power in the PC due to their technical knowledge and scientific skills. Santari: Almost totally human. It is possible that Santari and Humanity share a common ancestor, although such an ancestor could not have possessed the Magene, as it is totally absent in the Santari Race. Either that or an earlier stage of the Causality Wars totally eliminated the race's magickal potential. The Santari form the backbone of the Confederation, being the first race to be exposed to T!rir science and also having a strong expansionist bent. They have been compared to the Ancient Romans or the Colonial Americans in their politics and desire to extend their influence over all they survey. Scytharians: Not a biologically evolved race per se, actually more akin to a brand name. Hundreds of years ago, the planet Scytharia was a rich mining planet, high in radioisotopes and rare earths. However, it was also incredibly hostile in environment. Eventually, bioengineered lifeforms were created to mine the most hazardous areas, as well as to guard the ore from competing mining companies and claim jumpers. The mines soon became a secondary industry for the planet, as the artificial life forms turned out to be a more profitable industry than mining. Although over a dozen labs are based on Scytharia, all bioforms from the planet are called Scytharians as a sort of catch-all label. The labs established a trade council and legally protected the name as their equivalent of a joint trademark. A complete listing of even the most common products is beyond the scope of this book, but they range from simple clones with cybernetics and reworked hormonal systems to beings of pure energy. A human whose mind was implanted in such an energy body briefly served as a superhero on Earth and helped found the famous Raiders group. Another 'basic' Scytharian also operated on Earth first as a Raider and then as a Galactic Warrior under the name Blitzkrieg. Deltans: Not the actual name of the race, but a fair approximation of the Santari designation for the people. One of the early non-technological races to join the Confederation, the Deltans are natural antigravity projectors (in a manner which does not violate physical law, and suggests that certain theories of Terran Physics are wrong or incomplete) from a world with a dense atmosphere and high winds. In their natural form, they resemble a cross between a Terran manta and a humanoid, but those that leave Delta are generally altered surgically to become fully humanoid. They can achieve full flight in worlds with gravity less than 1.2 G, although they generally need small glider capes to assist them, due to the removal of their natural glider wings. This flight ability puts them in high demand for the Galactic Warrior Corps, and many leave home to see the galaxy as a member of that group. Delta Rose, Galactic Warrior Corps representative for our sector, was a Deltan. She possessed an energy projection ability natural to one in a hundred Deltans and was recruited to the Corps because of it. Surgical augmentation brought this ability up to the level where she was able to compete as a Superhero for a time. Centauri: Again, not the actual name of the race, which formerly lived on a planet orbiting the star we call Alpha Centauri. A magickal race, their talents involved drawing on the natural energy of their biosphere. Apart from Humanity, they are the only race known to have developed any magickal abilities. Reptilian in appearance, it is unlikely they are related to Humanity, although some speculate that they could have been created by a powerful Mage as part of an experiment back in the pre-Causality Wars era. Overuse of their powers resulted in the death of their ecology and their people. A handful were sent off to other worlds to warn of the dangers of overusing magickal resources, but quickly found that no one else used magick. Centauri are generally known as environmentalists on a planetary scale, as they soon discovered there's more than one way to kill a planet. They are generally regarded as nuisances or cranks, but have developed strong philosophical followings. The Centauri who arrived on Earth called himself Avatar and was a major player in environmental politics until he sacrificed himself during the recent interface with the Causality Wars in 1998. Dozens of other races exist in the PC, but no representative of any of them has affected Terra directly or been seen by more than a handful of humans. [sidebar] Races Outside the Planetary Confederation Pranir: Perhaps the most commonly seen alien race in the 21st Century, these interstellar traders were largely kept offworld by Galactic Warrior patrols until the turn of the century. Since then, they have established a major beachhead on Earth (see Ch 2: Khadam) and a major reputation as being less trustworthy than the stereotypical used car salesman. Profit is their only real motive, although they reputedly have a complex philosophy which drives their actions in areas unrelated to business. However, they are rarely encountered in non-business situations. Not all Pranir trades are disadvantageous to the other party...in fact, the bizarre nature of interstellar trade means they can afford to give the customer a good deal most of the time...it may be an outrageous price to a Santari for example, but cheap as dirt to a Terran. For example, hardwoods seem to be rare in this part of the galaxy, and can fetch a high price offworld, resulting in such odd trades as a small orbital shuttle for one mahogany tree. This facet of trade makes it almost impossible for most nations to totally resist trading with the Pranir. However, trading with them long enough will guarantee being swindled at least once, and possibly in a fatal manner, as not all alien technologies function properly away from home. The most famous example was a device created to generate ozone and inject it into the proper level of the atmosphere. Due to variations in atmospheric conditions, the injection process failed and the cloud of acidic ozone settled back to the ground, nearly wiping out a small German city. Physically, Pranir are like furred serpents with four arms situated in two ranks of two (one pair on top of the other). Their heads are vaguely serpentine as well, but with close-set eyes and external ears which resemble the horns of a Terran owl. One wag dubbed them "Snake Owls" for this odd facial structure, making a pun on the "Snake Oil" salesmen notorious in the 19th Century. More information is available in the chapter devoted to this 'charming' race. Thartonn: A strong warrior race which has carved out a small empire in a star cluster near the core of the Milky Way. Does not possess FTL ships able to reach Sol in less than 100 years, and are not considered a current threat. Only known due to their contact with the superhero Solar Max in 1993 during one of his galactic surveys [Editor's note: Solar Max's powerful supernatural abilities allowed him to travel at speeds sufficient to reach other galaxies within a few months]. Roughly humanoid. [...] [sidebar] The Galactic Warrior Corps The primary law enforcement arm of the Planetary Confederation, the Corps is composed of a number of specialists who work to prevent problems from escalating to the point where military muscle is needed. The Corps acts (or acted) to settle disputes outside the jurisdiction of one local planetary government, similar to the CBI's authority to deal with interdistrict crime and commerce. Confederation territory is divided into sectors, sections of the spherical territory radiating 500 light years out from Santar. Each Sector is approximately 2 parsecs (between 6 and 7 light years) on a side and cubical to the extent as is possible in a spherical distribution. Sectors lacking inhabited planets get no permanent Corps presence, although they are patrolled semi-regularly. Sectors holding planets of some minor importance, like Sol Sector (which also contains Alpha Centauri) generally have one full Corpsman and a number of deputies if the Warrior feels he needs them. Sectors containing worlds that are full members of the Planetary Confederation are served by complements of anywhere from 10 to 1000 full Corpsmen. Warriors generally travel in small hyperspace-capable ships and are armed with powerful ion guns as well as armored environment suits. Larger cruisers exist for cases requiring several Warriors or which will involve space combat or pursuit. Any case needing major firepower results in the Fleet being called in. Rank is indicated by the color of the uniform, with higher frequency color indicating higher rank. Deputies range from infrared to orange, full Warriors generally wear yellow or green, commanders blue to violet. Delta Rose's Terran name was derived in part from her uniform, which at the time of her being stranded on Earth was that of a deputy and rose-colored. Deltans' uniforms are modified to include a triangular gilder cape (which provided the "Delta" name in part), and those with energy projection powers often eschew the sidearm. Currently no Galactic Warrior Corps member is stationed in this Sector that we are aware of. The Corps still exists, but internal problems in the Confederation prevent them from devoting a full-time Warrior to us. As a result, the Pranir have become bolder in ignoring the trade restrictions placed on Earth by the Confederation. =============================================================================== "Okay, we're not sure what the close-defenses will be, so be on your toes people," JakZak whispered into his commlink. An earth-passage spell cast by Howard had let them get inside the minimum range of the Pranir ship's particle cannon (or at least they hoped it was inside that range...if the Pranir could shift the ship they might still bring the cannon to bear). Now they had to get inside the ship without getting killed or seeming to present enough of a threat that the Pranir would kill any potential hostages. Thinking of the hostages reminded JakZak to check with the team Psi. "Aaron, getting any human thought patterns?" A moment later, the voice came back, "No. But that's not surprising. At this range they'd have to specifically be thinking at *me* for me to pick them up...and I don't think they know me." The darkness of the magickally-generated trench hid JakZak's frown of disappointment from the others. Not knowing if there were hostages in there made everything so...touch and go. He sighed and gave the final commands. "Once we're inside, split into the three teams I outlined. Sarah, Teller, Drake and I will take the bridge...enough power to overwhelm the crew but enough precision to avoid destroying it. Power team takes the weapons room and disables the cannon...that's Scorch, Sal, George, Grind and Aaron. Grind will lead that group. The rest of you are best suited for finding any possible hostages and getting them out fast. If there's few enough to get out by teleportation, do it Popper. Also, Arin is to head for the engine room and detonate if it looks like the ship's about to take off...otherwise stick with the rescue squad. Howard, you run that squad. Ready? GO!" The previously-untouched hillface presented to the Pranir ship suddenly opened up like a mouth, disgorging the heroes-in-training. Those that could fly took to the air, but kept low so as to avoid the beam cannon. A dozen or so remote-controlled gravtanks immediately swarmed in their direction as the beam cannon futilely tried to depress low enough to fire on the attackers. Each tank was little more than a smaller beam cannon mounted on an antigrav sled with some controls and minimal armor. Very cheap to produce, very dangerous to anyone without shielding. Fortunately, Essay's handful of magnetic mines did an excellent job of fouling up the beams, dispersing them enough that they only slightly jolted their targets. The fact that the mines violated several fundamental physical principles didn't bother her in the least. Unfortunately, the gravtanks weren't one-trick ponies. "They're deploying Cerenkov lenses! Take evasive!" shouted Grind. Cerenkov radiation is what Terrans called it, the radiation emitted when charged particles were rapidly decelerated by an optically dense medium. Most of the races in the area called it Tsaran radiation, after the T!rir scientist who discovered it while humanity was working on the wheel. In any case, these crystals were designed to focus the bluish radiation into an offensive weapon. Not as powerful as pure particle beams and requiring frequent replacement of the crystal arrays, Tsaran beamers had the distinct advantage of being unaffected by magnetic shielding. Jen and JakZak went into action using their gravitic powers to deflect or defocus the beams as best they could, Jen having to actually interpose her body in the path of the beam to do so. Sal and Aaron dove into the fray, getting inside the barrel radius of a tank and then overturning it. Although not as susceptible to being turned turtle as a hovertank or treadtank, skidding for several meters on its turret generally put any variety of tank out of the fight. Essay pulled out a complicated looking rifle and fired it at a tank, magnifying its antigravity field sevenfold and sending it hurtling into the sky where the automatic targeting system on the ship's main cannon locked on and fried it before panicked operators could shut off the targeting system. Grind, Arin, Teller and Popper stayed back for the most part, being ill-equipped to take a shot from the Tsaran beamers and generally unable to do significant damage to a tank. With the exception of Arin, of course, but her power was still generally too unfocused to use in mass melee. The battle seemed to be going fairly well, if not spectacularly. Several more tanks had emerged from the ship or arrived from patrols on the other side of the perimeter, but they failed to make up for the scrapped tanks on all sides. Still, so far it was only different from training exercises in that the opponents weren't pulling any punches. Pranir are traders, not tacticians, and tend to be at a loss whenever their technological superiority isn't enough in a battle. In such a case, they throw what they can at an attacker and run as fast and far as they can. Unfortunately, they were stranded by a damaged engine. Whether they got desperate and tried to take off anyway would determine if they survived or not. Because with their engines in such a shape, the odds of surviving full blast were very, very low. JakZak fervently hoped they weren't stupid enough to try it, since if they did, the resultant explosion could very well kill all of his side as well. In what seemed like hours later, but was really only a few minutes, the tanks were all disabled or outright destroyed, and JakZak gave the command to move in on the tank hangar. The door had been warped by the crash and was the weak spot on the ship's hull right now. It took the combined efforts of Sal, Aaron and JakZak, but the door was quickly ripped from its hinges. They were greeted by a barrage of ion rifle fire from the Scytharian Defense Units arrayed inside the bay. JakZak pressed them all down as hard as he could, but they were built for heavy G forces, and were only slowed a little. Howard began a slow chant. "Metal and flesh Joined as one Let these bonds Come undone!" The heavily-cyborged DU's didn't stand a chance as all the metal parts of their bodies ceased to be connected to the flesh-and-blood parts. Even with the plastic and other synthetic parts still intact, the DU's were all severely crippled, at least temporarily. A more expensive DU without any metal parts, or an advanced energy-body Scytharian would have been immune to this spell, but apparently these Pranir were too small-time to afford the more advanced models. The DU's immediately collapsed in the heavy gravity field, and the second the field was dropped, Sarah was in and out among the prone forms, disarming them and doing what she could to further render them harmless. Essay finished the task by dropping a stasis net over the fallen Defense Units, and the group entered the ship. * * * * Arin nervously edged her way down the corridor, careful to avoid any spot that Essay's sensors blinked red at. But she wasn't so much nervous about the Pranir (although they worried her too) as she was about her own "friends." It would be so easy, if Essay were the killer, to not point out a fatal trap. Or for Popper to trigger something and then escape. Or for the mage to summon a demon to carry them all away.... She shook her head. Don't be thinking that way, she chided herself. If there *was* a murderer, he worked hard to make it look like Burnout...this wouldn't fit. But maybe that was just because Burnout was a convenient thing to hide behind in the Academy? Many more ways to cover up murder in the belly of a hostile alien spacecraft. "You okay?" asked Jen Kleinvogel. Arin nearly jumped at the sound of Jen's voice, so wound up she was. "Uh...yeah. It's just...this is the first real mission and all...and I only have a couple of years of training," she lied. If that were all she was worried about, she wouldn't be nearly so jumpy. Jen smiled, her face only faintly visible through the antigravity sheath she generated. "Don't worry...that's why you're with the Wimp Crew, we were all stuck in this crew because we aren't expected to run into anything nastier than a snakeowl with a pistol. And Howie-mon and Essay can take care of that stuff." Arin smiled weakly and tried to look calmer. Was Jen trying to put her at ease before the kill? No...that wouldn't make sense.... If Jen were a killer, why would she have almost killed herself trying to save that poor girl who tried to suicide a few months ago? Unless she was trying to divert suspicion.... Why did she have to know about this plot? Why had God chosen to burden her with the knowledge that one of her friends might be a killer? When would things start to make sense again, like they did before she found she had powers? * * * * Mopping up the bridge was short work. Apparently all the DU's had been committed to the last ditch defense in the tank bay, and the Pranir's rifles and stunners didn't even slow down JakZak's team. In fact, they had done some of the work for him before he arrived...when the squad came in, the Pranir were shooting each other. Apparently the leader had given the order to self-destruct or attempt a takeoff (same thing, really, JakZak thought) and some of the crew had disagreed, mutinying on the spot. In any case, they were all wrapped up now and the bridge secured. JakZak's communit came on with Grind's voice. "We got the cannon taken out, Jak. Sal took a hit to the arm, but nothing serious. Any information from the rescue squad yet?" "No, but Sarah's checking the manifests to see if and where humans are being held. Hold position and get ready to move on my mark." "Affirmative." JakZak turned to his wife, who was busily hacking into the Pranir computer systems. "How's it going?" She slowed slightly and turned her head to be better heard. "Tough going. These keyboards are designed for a four-armed race, and these guys kept pretty tangled records. Still, I think...got it! Hold Tran-Tu, level Gelt." "Translation? Not all of us are Xenolinguists, Sarah." "Sixth hold on the left side, second level. Or is it second on the right side? Damn homonyms. No, definitely the latter." JakZak thumbed over to the general frequency. "There are humans on board, people. Second level, sixth hold on the left side...from the ladder," he added as Sarah pulled up a schematic and pointed to the hold in question. "We're on level four, heading down," replied Howard. "Good. Grind, take your team to the engine room just in case someone on the Captain's side of this little mutiny decides to try and start the engines." Jak flushed slightly with embarrassment, realizing he should have sent Grind there as soon as the weapons room was taken. "Mutiny?" "Yeah, I'll explain later. Just get down there." "Henderson here. We're at the door to a hold, we think it's the right one." JakZak looked at the security schematic and saw several dots representing intruders in front of hold Tran-Tu. "Yeah, that's the right one, according to the schematic. Careful, it might be boobytrapped." There was a few seconds of silence, then Essay's strangled-sounding voice muttered over the commlink, "Dios...." * * * * Arin nearly fell twice trying to navigate the strange 'ladders' that connected the levels of the ship. Being serpentine in nature, the Pranir had different methods of locomotion than bipeds do, and the ship's layout reflected this. Some concessions were made for the bipedal Defense Units, but those largely used the elevators which were currently disabled as part of a desperate defense plan. Eventually the squad on the bridge would get the elevators back on, but for now they had to do it the hard way. Carefully the fivesome traversed the hallway. Arin couldn't make heads or tails of the strange alien writing. She'd studied enough to recognize it as Pranir, but that was about it. Study of alien races wasn't particularly encouraged at her old college, and most of her time at the Academy had been spent catching up in learning how to use her powers. After getting confirmation that they had found the correct door, Essay put together another of her strange devices and pointed it at the door. When a small green LED hanging off the side lit up, Essay nodded. No traps. Rather than have Popper risk popping into something fragile and dangerous (he generally didn't have to worry about materializing inside a solid object, but it paid to be careful) Howard elected to remove the door. He mumbled something in Latin and Arin tried to avoid listening. She knew in her head that his magic wasn't the tool of Satan, but in her heart she felt differently. The metal in the door dripped away as if it had turned to water, and the way was open. A chill gust came from the room. If they hadn't been wearing thermal jumpsuits against the late-fall cold of the Rockies, it might have given them frostbite, so intense was the cold. How could people be kept in such an icebox? Suddenly, a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature gripped Arin's heart. "Icebox." The word had more than one meaning, and one in particular gripped at her, nearly freezing her in terror. She heard Essay hiss in the cold air, "Dios...." Jen put a hand on Arin's shoulder. "Don't go in there. You don't need to see this." But she did need to see it. It would haunt her forever if she didn't know, she would always think the worst of it. It had to be better than she feared, right? Wrong. Arin forced her way past Jen and looked in over Essay's shoulder, the hispanic woman muttering prayers in Spanish and slipping back into the thick accent she'd shed long before Arin ever met her. Howard stood rigidly still, his stoic training allowing him to ignore the scene before him, and Popper just seemed...dead to it. Icebox. That was the correct word. This was an icebox. A larder. There were Terrans on board, all right. The Pranir had never said they were alive, is all. Arin had never heard of organlegging, the practice of smuggling body parts for transplant. Nor did she know enough about alien races to realize that Santari were close enough to human that they could use human parts. So there was only one conclusion Arin could make on seeing all those bodies and body parts arranged in a cold room.... Food. Those monsters meant to EAT these poor people! It was all clear now. She knew why she had been given these powers, why God had put her in this situation. The world...the galaxy...was infected with evil. Murderers, rapists, cannibals...evils too many and too horrid to catalogue. Never again would the world be destroyed by water, he had said. It would be destroyed by fire. Her fire. She didn't move, didn't even breath. She concentrated on letting the power build...and build...and when she would release it, all reality would be cleansed by His flame, she would be His torch putting the diseased fields to the flame. Everything would be remade anew, everything would be put right, after she released the power. She released the power.