
Swimming to the Stars
The planet wobbled. The oddity of the action piqued Darkah’s curiousity. He learned the basics of astrophysics and astromechanics during his studies at Storah, the planet’s premier university; but actually seeing it was far different than crunching numbers. His head bobbed as he rehearsed the formula. It was a sweet lilting yet sorrowful sounding song. It carried well enough in the atmosphere of the space station, but the emotion of it was muted. The songs carried much better in the aquatic setting of a university classroom.
There it was again, and right on time! It was easier to notice as Home Fleet one passed the planet on the side opposite the space station in which Darkah stood. The wobble was slight, even insignificant, and required he activated the sensitive targeting system grown in his brain and eyes. Darkah did not actually see the planet wobble, but his targeting system registered a larger profile for the Kahri, the destroyer flagship of the fleet. The targeting system was a small “gift” from the Overclan’s military training facility some hundred miles below his feet on the dark side of the planet. Everyone graduating The Academy received one, no matter their rank.
In Darkah’s case, he was a higher level junior officer, the sum of both his academic training and the rank of his family. With only one level of officers below him, and six yet above, there was little to say about the authority or responsibilities which came with the small silver fish hanging from the chain around his neck.
The fish was nothing spectacular in the ecosystem of the planet below his feet. The Shala fish was neither a fierce predator nor common prey to others. It was the smart fish, able to sense approaching predators. Typically it would turn, darting at the predator and slicing them with a razor sharp fin as it passed in close proximity. Or, if it sensed them from a great distance, the Shala would spin as it swam causing the scales to take on the ambient color and temperature of the surrounding area. A fish stuck at the lower end of the food chain, often feeding upon the slower moving slugs feeding off the bottom.
The destroyer’s engines blazed, and the rest of Home Fleet One followed suit. Darkah imagined how it would feel, standing at his station on the bridge of such a vessel as it cut through the void heading toward the post. His chance would come as soon as Home Fleet Two returned from system patrol. He and the rest of his graduating class would be practicing zero-g maneuvers and shuttle operations while waiting out the month. Those who performed the best would be put into active service in the combat fleets. Those who passed would be assigned to ground stations somewhere in the system.
He would be assigned to a combat fleet. He hoped.
“What swims in your waters, Shala Darkah?” Hawey’s voice snagged his attention.
Drakah spread his webbed hands open and wide, in the customary greeting of friendship, as he turned to greet her.
“Vain imaginings of glorious service at a planet side post.” His pupils twittered playfully.
“Is that so?” Her stare was cold and hard. “At attention when your superiors enter your presence, Shala.”
Drakah stood rigid, struggling to mask his confusion. Hawey had never been this serious before in their years at the Academy. She was of lesser family rank, but had graduated top of the class.
“Apologies Kunray Hawey. It will not happen again.”
“It had better not. And I should not have to tell you why.” She lifted the golden predatorial fish hanging on her chain in front of his eyes. “Kunray hunt Shala. They eat Shala by the net. Do you know why you are only a Shala, Drakah?”
She leaned in closer, her nose brushing against his. Her eyes were yet cold and her tone harsh. Drakah tried to form a logical response but his tongue was faster than his mind.
“Because my father was the spawn of an unfertilized egg?”
“No!” She paused, recovering the wavering tone of her voice. “It is because you squandered your abilities while at Academy.”
“As you say, Kunray. For my superiors always speak the truth.”
“Do you know what it will take for you to be assigned to a combat fleet?”
Darkah dared to glance at her, glean some information from her body language. She was a stone.
“At attention means face forward Shala.”
His head snapped back to the observation port. Home Fleet One was no more than a speck of light in the distance where his dreams lived. He would make it out there.
“It means, you will have to best me in every single exercise we have this month. You know I do not lose.”
Drakah’s eyes dropped to the planet below. She never failed. Her performance was always flawless. Maybe his jest had been a warning from his subconscious mind.
No! He would not accept a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure. He would be assigned to a combat fleet. No matter the sacrifice.
“So my plot to bind you and leave you in the locker room won’t work?” He clamped down on his tongue too late.
She glided behind him in silence. He remained at attention, staring at the distant stars and wondered what was out there. But he would have to make it there first.
He strained to concentrate on his heart beating against his ribs. His tongue had slipped one too many times. The sound was loud, like hail impacting on the hull of a shuttle. Strong and rhythmical. But the sound was coming from the other side of the corridor, not his chest.
Hawey was oddly silent. She should be continuing his “encouragement.” He dared a glance over his shoulder and saw nothing.
He turned to see Hawey leaning against the wall laughing quietly, one hand striking the wall. Darkah took a tentative step forward and smiled.
“It pleases me to see I can still bring you levity.” He said.
She nodded frantically. The color returned to her face as she regained her composure. “It is good. Still, you really do need to perform to your full potential if we are going to be stationed together on the Harkara.”
“I know this to be true. And not because you are my superior officer and friend.”