4

Phase space is what was found to be the opposite of real space, where antimatter was discovered. We use antimatter in our weapons and to generate immense power for our cities. Travel through Phase space is diffucult as the swirling flow of energies will rip you apart. Occasionally, a tear in real space will occur, making a rift between the two, and may open a wormhole – through which you can travel. The energy released when this happens is close to that of a supernova. Before the Fos'Sed attacked, we had learnt to create and harness that energy to provide our ships with jump-drive engines (or “Nova” engines), allowing for faster-than light travel.
Using these Nova engines, after the intial expansion, we were able to extend our colonies further, and new systems were found, known as the “outer rim” systems. It was in one of these systems that the Tensh'a race was found, a humanoid species with incredible technology. The Tensh'a usually use close combat weapons, as their ranged weapons are mostly limited to high-strength, accurate pulse-laser rifles; railguns are used for heavier weapons, with a range of projectiles that can be used, while machine-guns are rare. The Tensh'a are now allied with us against the Fos'Sed, but if they see us as a threat, they will attack. Their numbers are comparitively small compared to humans, because of the war, but they make up for this in skill. They are incredibly smart, academically minded people, who are in most ways superior to humans, yet are not arrogant, taking an almost “samurai” level of humility to all. They see everyone as an equal, including the enemy; they have no fear of death, and see it as an honour to die in battle. While they hate assassinations, they do have a special sect of warriors devoted to “dirty killing”. This sect, called the Corona, use stealth and deception to get close to their target before unleashing a series of devastating attacks with their close combat weapons.

-More from the Librarium on Celesta IX


Lohene leads us from the transport to a large meeting hall near the middle of the ship. The corridors he takes us through all look the same. Coloured lines run along the walls and floor, each colour a symbol for an area of the ship.
“Red for engines, green for bridge, blue is for the mess hall where we are headed. If you want to go to the quarters, follow the yellow one. The white line leads to the hangars, and purple leads to navcom, datasystems and the tactical control center.” explains Lohene when I ask which is which.
The mess hall is as dull as the rest of the interior of the ship. There is a podium at the head, behind which the command crew sit at. In front are the tables where the basic troops sit, and where we sat. The hall fills up quickly, and food is brought in, simple rations yet welcome all the same. It doesn't taste half bad, but I can tell I'll get sick of it fast. After we've finished eating, a bald man whose dress uniform is covered in medals takes the podium. He gives us a brief welcoming speech.
“Welcome, refugees. I am Captain Etrua Stovkra, of the carrier Hayabusa, Ariana second fleet. I'm sorry about what had to be done to you today. The reason for it was, as you know, the Fos'Sed. The Clanship unaminously decided exterminatus was the best course of action and Clan Ariana offered to come to your aid.”
Someone in front of me calls out a question. “Whats the Clanship?”
The Captain asks the guys' name in response.
“Er... Abera Gallise, sir.”
Stovkra nods before addressing everyone. “Just after we lost contact with you, most of the systems controlled by the humans set aside their disputes and allied against the Fos'Sed. As the boundaries between our territories were merged, a council of newly appointed leaders, chosen democratically from every system, were elected to guide us. They help settle the courses of action we take.  Large groups of like-minded people formed into “Clans”, and sent representatives to the council. The council was eventually replaced by the Clanship representatives. Thus was the Clanship created – an alliance of the clans of humanity. You only have rights if you belong to a clan, and those rights are outlined by the Clan you belong to. If you do not belong to a clan, you have no rights, no protection. You have all been automatically given a membership to Clan Ariana, but you may choose another clan at any time. For now, all military personnel have been conscripted into the Ariana fleet. A term of 1 year of active service is compulsory, after that, military personnel will be able to choose any clan they wish.
“Civilians will now be taken to a waiting transport, and settled in a safe system. Please follow Commander Atrey now.”
The civvies leave, quietly talking amongst themselve. Eventually it is only military personnel left in the hall.
“You have been assigned to squads. Your ranks have been retained, but you are on three months trial before you are given command. Your squad leaders will show you to your quarters after this briefing.
“The Tensh'a, whom in the past, we have warred with, have sent troops to help the Clanship. I ask you to treat them with respect and courtesy. All our past disputes have been set aside, and I expect you to fight alongside the Tensh'a contingent without complaint. Some have been assigned to your squads, and they will be your comrades from here on in. Understood?”
We all nod.
“Good. Here they are.”

A door opens to the left of the ship, and the Tensh'a file in. They gracefully glide across the floor on strong-looking legs, their pale, mottled skin hidden beneath light, ornate armour. Most have medium-length curved swords that are worn in beautifully decorated scabbards, and they all carry rifles on their backs, along with a shorter, straighter sword. Other weapons are evident; apparrently the Tensh'a pay for their own training and equipment. There don't seem to be any Tensh'a leaders. As a group, they line up at the head of the hall and bow, stepping one leg forward and bringing their fists across their chests as they do so. They expose the back of their neck as a sign of peace – symbolically it means that they trust us enough not to cut their heads off when they look at the floor. I notice their eyes as they stand up: all a uniform silvery grey. The pupils are tiny black dots in the center of the grey orbs. There is no iris. They have something like hair growing from their heads; long, thin brown spines that curve out of the back of their heads towards the ground.
To the left of the main group, a small contingent of Corona warriors, clad in black armour and carrying some serious stealth technology, are slouching around, not paying attention. The black armour is the stealth suit, designed to render the wearer invisible for short periods of time by warping light, mimicking the surroundings for active camoflage. They carry swords, knives, and a type of 6-point shuriken; no guns are present. These Corona warriors wear helmets that cover their upper face. Their eyes are covered by shiny black lenses; cold, heartless, unfeeling. I feel uneasy with them around; they make me nervous. I like to see the eyes of my enemy, as it helps predict their state of mind during a battle where you can then figure out their weaknesses easier.

After the Tensh'a are intoduced, we are divided into our squads and led to cramped quarters where we fall into bed, exhausted. After what seems like minutes but in reality is closer to hours, we are woken up (Someone walks into the barracks and makes noise with a trumpet) and shown to the mess hall again, where we eat. The rations more substantial than what we had back home, but it still tastes like mouldy hay. I am told it is meat, cabbage and beans, but I can't make out any differences in the portions, save for the different shades of rust-coloured mush. They forgot the sannin, too.
We have two Tensh'a in our squad. One is from the Corona contingent, but he takes off his helmet and smiles.  
“Sh'Ran, my simple name.”  He bows as he speaks.
His accent seems a bit aloof, but in a formal, friendly manner. The other is called Ds'Gral, and seems more than a bit tense around us. He loosens up a bit when we get to know him, but he retains his constant alertness. He never seems to stop being suspicious of everyone, and I suspect he may have lost a family member to a virus, left over from when we Bio-bombed them during the war.
Apart from Abael, Zaed, Hacaros and Jazel, there are another three humans. Sergeant Lohene is squad leader; Abera Gallise, the man who called out during Captain Etrua's speech, is put on communications, and an asian lady called Castalli Ferda is our sniper. Hacaros is her spotter when he's needed, while Jazel is issued with a missile launcher for tank busting.
Abael, Zaed and I are the close quarters combat specialists, and the Tensh'a do what they can to help. Several weeks are spent going through basic squad training, to get us used to working together, and the group grows close.  I'm beginning to get sick of the VR sims, mushy food and lack of sleep.

We're heading to the Calthos system to reinforce the 3rd and 4th fleets, who have taken heavy losses over Darius II, a small backwater planet that supplies nearly twelve core systems with Adamantite ore, which the armour for ships is made from after it is refined to Adamantitanium alloy. The planet is unpopulated, but the battle has been going on for nearly six months. Our ship is running behind the main contingent as we had to stop for refueling, and we sent or escort to go catch up and help. We are three days from Darius II .

I wake up from a deep sleep. A red alert alarm is ringing, a high-pitched, continuous grinding note that hurts my ears. The others wake up too, complaints issuing forth as they rub the sleep from their eyes.
“What the hell...”
“Urgh... Fecking noise... I wanna sleep...”
A computerised male voice repeats itself over the alarms.
“Alert. Alert. Alert. This is not a drill. Report to defense positions immediately. Alert. Alert...”
It's getting annoying, so I reach up and rip the speaker from the wall.
“Alllleeeeeeeeerrt.... Alllllllll.... Allll...” the voice goes quiet. I hear boots running along the deck in the corridor outside our bunk room. The deck throws me to the floor as a shockwave from some large impact rolls across the ship. We storm into the corridor, weapons drawn, and head for the bridge, where we are assigned to defend the bridge entry. Gunfire issues from somewhere below, echoing through the air ducts. People are shouting, some screaming.
“What the hell is going on, Lohene?” I ask.
“I think we've been boarded by a renegade faction. Some systems haven't joined the Clanship, and attack lone ships. They'll take all our supplies, kill the crew, and steal the ship. Fos'Sed tactics are different than this, so it isn't them.”
“Oh great. Effing space pirates.” Zaed mutters.
“We have a surprise for them.” says Lohene.

         A lift opens at the end of the corridor, and a group of men get out. Lohene tells us to stay behind him, and hits a button on his PDA. A pair of turrets descend from the ceiling, and open fire on the men, making short work of the unarmoured opponents. I guess the screaming we heard downstairs was the enemy. The turrets, ammo spent, fold back into the ceiling, unnoticeable against the grey steel. We hear more renegades coming, and level our guns. Their footsteps echo along the corridor, and a grenade rolls to a stop in front of me. We duck behind cover as shrapnel ricochets around us. I receive a minor cut on my arm, and my cheek, but the bleeding isn't bad.
The shouts of the appraching renegades are audible now, and they swing into view around a corner. They spot us, and take up positions behind cover, firing at us. We return fire. I aim at one hiding behind a steel crate. He sticks his hand out around the corner and fires wildly. Bullets blast small craters in the walls. I wait for him to stick his hand out again, and shoot it when he does. He drops his pistol, rolling on the floor in agony. My bullets huve a mercury core that splatters on impact. Lots of internal damage, minimal blood splatter, meaning he will never use that hand again. Probably blew and artery too. I don't like being shot at.
We pick off the untrained rebels quite easily, and when the alarm stops ringing, we go back to bed, exhausted from the adrenaline. I'm unaware of what went on in other parts of the ship, and to be honest, I don't care. As long as we aren't dead yet, I'm happy.