Test Day (pt 20)
Three tests happen on the same day, for three very different people. Each will have a great impact upon the lives of those involved.
Leina stared in complete disbelief at the screen in front of her on the desk in the quarters she shared with Gahn. She hadn't just failed the aptitude test, the computer had even seen fit to insult her over it. <<Limited understanding of foundational concepts and theory. Mechanical Engineering Ability: 13>>
On the outset, she had liked the concept of this test, and the many others like it. Basically, any Rukot interested could take it, regardless of age or background, and one's score determined their ability when it came to employment or gaining acceptance into more advanced education. Perfect scores were intentionally calculated out, always striving to push even the leaders in various fields to greater heights. As such a score as low as 100 meant some degree of proficiency, generally enough for a technical position on a ship, but she had not even acheived that.
Thirteen, out of four hundred, and barely a fraction of that needed to receive any actual qualification in the field. That test had gone far beyond anything she knew as an engineer. It treated utter impossibilities as if they were commonplace, and assumed a background in electronics far deeper than she, or even anyone she knew in her field from the past, had. She leaned back in the chair, mentally exhausted.
Gahn leaned in over her right shoulder and said, <<I'm sorry Leina, maybe you need some time to prepare.>>
<<No,>> she responded, a little defeated. <<I wasn't the top of my class, by far, but I don't think Don could've survived this one either.>>
Despite her words, the wolf felt bad for pushing her into taking it, <<I just figured it would be easy for you, sorry.>>
<<Stop apologizing,>> the cat chided him. <<Also, what the hell does mechanical engineering have to do with gravity generators!?>>
<<I could teach you, but my score's only 110,>> he offered.
His mate shook her head. <<That could take years, apparently it took me eight just to score that low,>> she said. No, her engineering days were definitely over.
<<We have plenty of years,>> he rebutted gently while placing his paws on her shoulders and turning her and the chair to face him.
<<You're the one who talked me into this with all your plans for the future,>> she reminded him as she looked up at the wolf. <<Our future,>> she added.
He nodded and replied, <<Yes, but, you never really talk about what you want, and I've been on this ship for pretty much my whole life.>>
<<I don't really know, but apparently I don't want to be an engineer anymore,>> she said as a thoughtful look came across her face. Leina studied Gahn for a moment, recalling his plans to eventually purchase a ship of his, now their, own. Still, it had been over three years since she first appeared in the Teshar's hanger, and their lives had long since settled down considerably after the events that followed. Part of her did not want to admit she too was starting to feel the same wanderlust that had taken her mate, but it was why she had agreed to take the test in the first place. The Teshar had become home though, and she did not feel quite ready to leave it, or the many friends she had here.
Right when it looked like he was about to say something, she continued, <<Is there a more general test? Maybe we can find something I'm good at other than being a housecat.>>
Gahn took to her suggestion quickly and replied, <<Absolutely.>> He turned her and the chair back around and leaned in again, saying perhaps a little too enthusiastically, <<You can pick any test, or one of the basic ones from the same menu as this one.>>
<<Gahn,>> she said quietly.
<<Yes?>> he asked.
<<Can this wait until tomorrow at least? Or did you buy a ship already and forget to tell me?>> she questioned.
<<I didn't buy a ship,>> he assured her.
<<So can this wait until I'm not exhausted from the taking the final exam from hell?>> she asked again, turning her head to look up at him with mock annoyance.
<<Oh!>> he exclaimed, <<Right, no, it can wait, Leina, sorry.>> He gave her an apologetic look.
She turned her head back to the screen and joked, <<Then again, I have to be good at something. Maybe I should try another.>>
Above her, Gahn shook his head, with a quiet chuckle. <<No, you said you were tired,>> he stated firmly, and lifted her out of the chair fast enough to make her yelp.
<<Hey! Put me down!>> she yelled in surprise, but made only a half-hearted attempt at struggling as he carried her across their quarters.
<<Yes, Captain,>> he responded sarcastically and promptly dropped her on the bed.
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Harold Grimes struggled against the two gaurds dragging him through the halls of the Imperial Palace on Haskel to a much greater degree than Leina had resisted her mate that night. Dried blood left a trail across the left side of the man's face, staining the deep valley between his nose and considerably swollen cheek. Despite this, both of his brown eyes were open as he roughly tried to pull free from the two uniformed men holding him.
The leader of the so-called Empress Cult had been caught, his base of operations destroyed, and the only thing the man cared about in this moment was the fate of his wife and daughter. He had lost track of them during the fighting and not seen their bodies amongst those killed by the White Hand and the troops that had accompanied the Emperor's pet monster. It, because Harold was certain the thing was no human or animal, had shrugged off plasma bolts unfazed, and murdered everyone that stood between it and him. The man could only hope it had not murdered his family too.
"Stop fucking fighting, the Emperor wants to see you, now," the guard to his right ordered harshly and wrenched upon the arm he held, twisting it up high behind the man's back.
His only response was to cry out in pain.
"By the old empire, you'd think he'd have given up after three days without sleep," the one on the left said, tightening his own grip on the man's left arm.
"Can't we just knock him out, be easier?" the first asked the air as he lowered Harold's arm back down and shoved him forward towards a large pair of ornate doors. "But the order said alive and awake, and as soon as you got on planet. So fucking move."
As they approached the doors, the man paid little attention to the carvings and images carved on them, that when closed, appeared as a singular throne across both. The image changed when the doors began to open, depicting twin thrones, one an each. This caught his attention and he stopped struggling as he witnessed what he thought was confirmation that the Empress must exist, there being no other reason for twin thrones.
The room beyond was much smaller than the doors leading into it had suggested. They had also entered through a side entrance close to the dias the occupied a third of the room. Still, the throne room of the palace was by no means small, but it was spartanly furnished, an astoundingly simplistic wooden chair, the throne itself, being the sole adornment to a raised section of the dias that appeared too large for it. The wood was dark, and well-worn with age like it had served since the founding of the Empire.
Harold found himself staring at it in wonder, surprised to find such a modest object at the centre of the Empire's power.
"I made it myself, woodworking was once a hobby of mine," a voice said from a few metres away, drawing the attention of all three men. Harold felt his gaurds straighten to attention and he looked in the direction of the voice, stifling an oath of more surprise, its owner being Emperor William.
Continuing on, the thin-bodied ruler of the empire added, "The chair doesn't make the throne, the ass that sits in it does." He barked a crude laugh at the poor joke and waved his right hand, "Release him, and go away."
The gaurds released him before the order had even been finished. They saluted while saying in perfect unison, "We live to serve the Emperor," before they promptly left the throne room.
"It's been a very long time, Mr. Grimes, but surely you can do more than gape at me like everyone else does," the man said in a friendly manner as if they had known each other.
Harold struggled to get his wits about him, completely thrown off by this turn. "We've met?" he asked, confused.
Emperor William nodded his head, and answered, "I'm supposed to be the one who asks the questions, and you're supposed to be the one who says 'your Majesty' though," he paused. "Yes, we have met before, you were only a child. Are still only a child now."
The insult stirred something within him and Harold said angrily, "I'm the child? You just had thirty people, good people. People who believed your wife is still alive, murdered." Pain erupted across his swollen cheek as he finished, bellowing, "All so you could bring me here and make jokes!?"
The Emperor shook his head and sighed, "Not even one 'your Majesty' in all of that?" His tone became serious, "Oh well, no, you're not here so I can make jokes, and while my pet is brutal, they did leave your wife alive and unharmed, because I know you want to ask about that."
Something was off about the way the man referred to his wife, but Harold ignored it, asking, "Where is she?"
"Ah, no, not just yet," William replied, "I have something to show you first. You have my word as your Emperor that the two of you will leave Haskel alive, once we are finished. Now, follow me." He turned away and walked up onto the dias in the direction of a door behind the throne.
For a moment, Harold just stood there, unsure about what to do.
"You know, people who don't obey me are supposed to die, and I just told you you're going to leave here alive, so don't make a liar out of me," the Emperor said impatiently while he waited beside the door to his private study.
With no other option, for the first time in over a century, the man did as the emperor bade and entered the study, which was much more in the style he would have expected in the Imperial Palace with more masterfully worked wood furniture than the throne and lavish decor.
Behind him Emperor William closed the door, "Now, before you keep going with the questions, Harold, since we seem to be going with informal here, let me start by saying yes, the Empress is real." He walked over to the smooth wall to their left and placed his palm on it, revealing a status display. His captive guest was about to get the shock of their life, and would never know the full depth of it. He entered a combination into the display and the wall changed from opaque to transparent.
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"What the hell are you doing, Evans? You're not flying a fighter," an annoyed voice yelled over the simulator's comms. Around Elisa the rather plain and otherwise empty simulated bridge rocked sideways to the left, the fictional ship's dampeners pushed far beyond their limit as she raced through an asteroid field.
"It's the same thing, she's only bigger," the young woman said, straining against the restraints in her chair from the inertia. After a moment she added, "sir." On the console before her a collision warning alarm sounded and she silenced it and the direction of the asteroids flying across the viewport changed rapidly as she pulled the upwards, intentially not compensating for the sideways movement of the ship, forcing it into a small arc-shaped path. Yet again the alarm sounded as the ship narrowly avoided a rock half its assumed size.
An open expanse in the middle of the field appeared and she raced the ship into it, maxing out the engines. She'd already completed most of the test by this point, her aim was soley to beat the record time for this simulation.
Outside the simulator a tall, heavyset man in an Imperial Navy scowled at it. The man wished sorely that Elisa Evans was one of his normal cadets instead of some pet project for that damned spymaster. Fermeux Hunt would be upset if he did anything except for ignore her insubordination, and he did not want to risk the Director's ire.
She was a gifted pilot in many ways, but lacked any sort of discipline, and was hard on equipment. The man winced as he heard the simulator bang against its supports. Yet another lashing she would not get. In frustration the man jabbed at the console he stood before, determined to teach her some sort of lesson.
Back inside, as soon as the ship had finished crossing the expanse and back into the asteroids the controls went dark. The viewport shimmered and the image changed into that of a large gas giant planet that quickly filled it.
She exlaimed, "What!?" At the same moment the controls lit back up, alarms sounding to indicate the ship was caught in the planet's strong gravity and descending uncontrolled into it. Wisps of fictitious gas danced across the screen as the virtual ship plummeted into the upper atomosphere and started to roll end over end.
The feeling of gravity pulling her towards the floor, coupled with the roll, made her extremely nauseaous. Within moments Elisa regretted the large lunch she had eaten earlier as most of it forced its way out of her again. Before she could do anything else, the simulation ground to a halt and most of the bridge disappeared from the spherical space she was actually inside of.
Though it had only lasted for a minute, the young woman's heart pounded from the experience. While she took several deep breaths to calm down a doorway opened behind her. Her trainer, Lieutenant Commander Nehar, stood in the opening and said flatly, "Clean this mess up, Evans."
"What..." she found her voice again, "What the hell was that?" Suddenly changing the simulation from the asteroids to a planet was unfair.
"Discipline," the man answered. "Everything in flight can change in an instant."
"Not like that!" she defended angrily.
"An extreme example," he admitted, "but you should have been more than capable of handling it with all that talent that's been wasted on you."
"Remained calm? I was being thrown around!" she replied. She was a great pilot, better than most of those Navy cadets anyways, and not one could have survived that. They got to fly the fighters though, and she was stuck behind the controls of simulated civilian freighters and transports.
"Discipline," Nehar repeated, "You have a lack of it. That is why you failed to pull the ship out of the roll, accelerate along the fall, and use the planet's own gravity to escape back out of the atomosphere. We covered gravity well escapes on your first day here. Even an old junkheap piloted by an animal should have survived that."
The way he had said it made it sound so easy, and that served only to anger her further. "You're an asshole, sir," she said, saying the last word as insultingly as she could. For a year and a half this man had done nothing but treat her poorly and yell at her over the simulator comms. She had to endure at least another year and a half before she would have even close enough to the number of training hours required to fly an actual ship.
"Not just discipline," he replied calmly, "You have no respect either, not for me, not for the ships, and not for flight. If you were one of my cadets, I'd beat it into you." He reached down and threw several rags into the spherical space as he continued, "Maybe I can still teach you some, clean that shit up, and then get the fuck out of my simulator."
Before she could respond, the door closed, leaving her alone again inside the vomit-covered simulator. A heavy thud came from the door, as if it had locked. "I will be back in an hour, Evans. My simulator better be clean or I will leave you locked in it until it is," Lt. Commander Nehar's voice said over the comms. Then the small spherical room was cast into darkness as the power went out completely.