Mission

Across the galaxy, Carnithians, particularly the Arcarnian sub-species, are renowned for their elegance, grace and immaculate appearance. The only ones to ever counter this opinions are Carnithians themselves and anyone who’s ever seen them first thing in the morning.

Practically indestructible super weapon he may be, Caleb suffered the same problems. Severe bed head coupled with sleep filled eyes and only half a functioning brain left him in a near zombie state until he managed to stumble to the cleanser for a morning blast. Shrilly beeping alarms and the cold only made things worse. Which was why, one chilly morning, the sound of the intercom was greeted by a loud whine and his immediate diving under the pillows.

Sadly, the noise persisted.

“Go away,” he groaned. Speech activation led to the initiation of a channel and the disapproving tones of his direct superior.

“My apologies,” the female drawled, “If our war is interrupting your sleeping patterns, Captain.” A purple eyed glare towards the security camera was met with a mocking chuckle. “Pout all you want, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re needed for a Special Ops mission.”

“Make someone else do it,” Caleb mumbled, attempting to sink deeper into the blankets. “Like Luka. Luka can do some work for once.”

“Captain Lukerima is currently leading an assault on the Jeniqui Star mines,” the Major informed him. “Now get up and get yourself to the General’s office.”

This was shocking enough to force energy into his brain. “The General?” Excitement flared dully in the pit of his stomach, just enough to begin eroding the effect of sleep. “Roger that, Major, I’ll be right over.” Without reply, she cut the connection.

The General. It had been nearly fifty years since the General of the Carnithian army had requested Caleb’s presence. That had been to promote him.

Possibilities exploded through his brain as he waited for the Cleanser to heat up. The Void crystal powering it was running low. In theory, he should be able to recharge it himself but the amount of effort put into getting the blasted thing was beyond his patience level. Damn those budget cuts. After nearly five centuries of war, you’d think the higher ups would know how to run a military base properly. Earthlings really had the right idea using water. It could be used, cleaned, reheated and reused almost unlimitedly and heat was easy to find when mass-producing weapons. Renterians were also on the wright track with their dirt eating nanobots. Copying either race had been brought up at several meetings but had always been overturned. Apparently the idea of cleaning that involved anything except blasting the dirt from your body with high powered energy waves was ridiculous.

A blue light flashed, alerting him to the Cleanser’s readiness.

A few minutes later, he emerged free from any sweat, dirt or grime that may have coated him before. “That thing needs recalibrating,” he muttered, massaging the tips of his pointed ears. A projection screen on the wall displayed his current appearance. Black hair slightly wind swept and grey Arcarnian skin marked with faint scars from last week’s battle. Flicking his fringe from vision, he turned and set about searching for his clothes.

Now that was something most species didn’t do well. Clothing. Why put a ridiculous amount of time, energy and money into making each item of clothing when you could just program nano-machines to create it for you? It was beyond him.

A red void crystal glimmered at him from the centre of a metallic circle sitting behind his bed side cabinet.

“Uniform,” he ordered, planting the device in the centre of his chest. Dark grey combat armour built itself across his lithe form. “Time to go greet the General.”

*

Void crystals. Dark red and filled with energy they were the source of all power within the Carnithian Empire. Technically, the name was actually a misnomer. The energy they were filled with was actually converted from matter when a void was created. Crystals themselves came from a mysterious top-secret source that only Carnithian scientists knew about.

It was one of the best kept secrets in the galaxy.

Along with it was the location of the Star Quartz city, the palace of Tamora the wise and the true identity of Carnithian General Ethidos. Only a select few were deemed worthy of this knowledge. Caleb and his four colleagues were among that special group.

Despite all of the cloak-and-dagger secrecy, there wasn’t anything particularly spectacular about the General just from looking at her. A fairly average Loacarnian, the smallest of the different subspecies and the most strongly linked to telepathy. Without the ethereal grace of an Arcarnian, insatiable energy of a Taycarnian, unbelievable speed of a Melocarnian or the intimidating strength Rocarnian, the General looked fairly insubstantial. Pale and wisp like, the only colourful thing about her were her eyes. Huge orbs of pulsating amber light that seemed to see everything it was possible to see about the people around her.

Personally, Caleb found her extremely daunting.

There was no arguing with the General. Her fearsome intelligence saw to that. It were as though anything you could ever say had already flashed across her mind and a million responses had been constructed to shut you down.

No arguing, no reasoning, no negotiations. You followed her every order to the letter.

“Captain Calebrata,” she said quietly as he entered the room.

“Apologies for my lateness, General,” Caleb murmured, crouching low to show his respect.

“All is forgiven, Captain.” Her voice was a soft, dry whisper that scraped along his spine. “Rise, I have mission for you.” Without reply, he straightened and fervently approached her desk. “Wars are taxing, as you know. They deplete soldiers, destroy technology and drain resources. It is doubtful that you know but there was an attack on the Void Crystal source.”

Eyes widening, Caleb turned to stare at her. “But that’s-”

“Hidden, yes,” she confirmed. “It was a lucky hit from a fleet of bombers. They have no idea of the destruction they have wrought and we intend to keep it that way. I’m sending you and several other officers out to find more Crystal sources. We need them or we’re going to lose this war.” Reaching to the air in front of him, she activated her wrist projector with a light tap to the V.C. centre. Light seeped from the device, bending and refracting slightly through the air. It curved to form the image of a planet before his eyes.

A very familiar planet.

“I’m sending you to Earth,” she said. “It’s an Intergalactic planet and the primary species, humans, share a common evolutionary ancestor with Carnithians. You should have no problem integrating yourself with the society there while you search. The Earthling government has issued a ban for any warring factions to enter orbit so it will be a deep cover with complete radio silence. You may only break it when you have found the Source.”

“What is the Source?” Caleb asked, hardly daring to believe that he may have a second piece of highly sensitive info.

As though reading his thoughts, the General smiled slightly revealing her pointed fangs. “Let’s just you’ll know it when you see it.”

A fait rush of fear burned his throat. “Understood.”

After that it was more basic things. Language, clothes (no nano-machines for him), money and, perhaps most importantly, equipment. No weapons were permitted on Earth that did not originate from there. So that meant most of his possessions were to be left behind.

“You are permitted three pieces of VC tech,” the General’s Secretary said. “That includes your coms. As you’re Arcarnian you won’t require a re-charger...” Fingers moved rapidly across the sprawling symbols laid out on the plasma screen before him. “Oh, did the General mention that violence is to be kept to a minimum.”

“Five times,” Caleb hissed, cringing at the memory. “Honestly, you’d think I were some kind of lunatic.”

The Secretary refrained from answering. Instead, he flicked a glance toward the security camera and bustled on with the warnings. “Did she also mention that Earthen sexual customs are very different to that of ours? I would suggest refraining from an excess of promiscuity.”

“So I’m a sex crazed lunatic now?” There was no venom in his words but the flicker in his eyes suggested danger.

Calling his bluff, the Secretary chuckled. “Sir, that’s 90% of Arcarnians.”

With a laugh, Caleb nodded. “Right, right. When do I leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

The closeness of the sudden deadline severed Caleb’s train of thought. Random strands of cognitions trailed through his brain as he attempted to gather them together.

“Is… is that all?” he asked, mouth now rather dry. “I have things to put in order.”

A hint of understanding shadowed the Secretary’s face and he risked a sympathetic smile. “You’ll need to be at the Transporter dock this time tomorrow.”

“Only Twenty nine hours to say good bye,” Caleb mused. “However will I cope?”

Goodbye

 Taster:

"You sure took your sweet time,” Caleb said when Jori parted from the main bulk.

“I had to wear her down first,” Jori explained. “Get her tired, gullible. Her reflexes are too fast otherwise.”

“Or maybe you’re just getting lazy.” It was the slightest of smiles that gave away Caleb’s glowing happiness. “But I suppose a well done is order.” The delighted smile that stretched across Jori’s face was enough to put a supernova to shame.

Navy skin stretched over wiry muscles, Lieutenant Jori was the living embodiment of a coiled spring. Everything about him was built for speed. Right now, he looked exhausted, bright blue hair slicked down by sweat, clothes plastered to his body and perspiration dripping from the tips of his pointed ears and nose.

“We need to talk,” Caleb said as Jori was handed a coolant pack and praised yet again.

Eyebrow raised, Jori tilted his head. “That’s ominous.”

“Shut up and follow me,” Caleb snapped.

Impressum

Texte: Naomi M-B
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 26.12.2014

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