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The Good Doctor - NraVadumee - 12-19-2013
Prologue: Dealing With Devils
“What do you mean, you’re cutting my funding??”
Allan Nosiz had a certain way of rating days.
“Dr. Nosiz, you have to understand, it’s been sixteen years since the Nomad War…”
The best of days, he called his “fine and beautiful”s.
“What, I’m to believe that my department was a… a publicity stunt?”
The worst of days, the very worst, that is, he called his “abysmal”s.
“Doctor, I’m sorry. The Board has already decided. There’s nothing that can be done.”
Today wasn’t exactly an abysmal.
“Would a threat of resignation have any effect on this?”
No, not an abysmal.
“No, doctor. They’d just call your bluff, and if you walked, they’d take up one of the hundreds of other xenoscientists vying to take your position. I’m afraid the market is high in supply and demand. You’ll just have to take the slash to your salary and the cuts to your budget.”
“I’ve already spent a quarter out of my own salary, which, mind you, has already been slashed twice, to make up for the last cuts!”
“That’s none of my concern nor the Board’s, I’m afraid. I’m also afraid I have an appointment in a few short minutes, so I fear you’ll have to show yourself out and back to your office, Dr. Nosiz. You have my condolences and my apologies. Have a good day.”
It was worse than an abysmal.
As Department Head of Xenosciences at Cambridge, a department which sported a whopping five professors, including himself, teaching a total of twelve courses between them all, Nosiz suffered the brunt of these cuts. Perhaps not the salary slashing nor the budget cuts, but he suffered knowing that he was failing to help his colleagues in their goals of educating the next generation of xenoscientists. When he procured his doctorate in the sciences of alien life, the Nomad War had ended five years before. He procured tenure at Cambridge, where he taught large classes of several students, all of them surging through in the post-War tide of xenoscience interest.
The Dean made a point of identifying the Nomad War as the cause of the surge in both spending and enrollment in xenosciences, but he couldn’t believe that to be all. Even if it was, he had thought, he didn’t expect it to be temporary. Surely, something as massive as the Nomad Invasion would spur a golden age of xenoscientific study, research into the K’hara and their makers, the Daam K’Vosh, and any other alien life forms that Sirius played host to. The universe was massive, and Sirius was large enough as things stood. Even if it was a hostile invasion, the Nomad War blasted open the doors for studies into alien life.
Bitterly, Nosiz amended that statement: The Nomad War opened the doors. Sensationalism and political strife closed them.
The media took all the attention off of his field. Nevermind the discoveries made by Dr. Daniel Redking in the Omicrons of Daam K’vosh ruins. Or Professor Meredith Holmsworth, who perfected the procedure to extract a perfectly intact Nomad Incubus from a host. No, no, it was all about the Houses and their threats and potential wars. Bretonia may be his motherland, and he may love his Queen and Country with some patriotism, but her issues with Kusari made things difficult for him and his colleagues.
Tensions and threats between houses always meant no good for teachers like Nosiz. They sucked public funding out of education and into defense, and when education gets cut, there are always the first targets to take the hits. While the arts may stand near the top of that list, they’re still generally liked well enough to keep them from the top. Instead, more obscure fields, if available, take the lion’s share of the cuts. Fields like xenobiology, xenoarchaeology, and other xenosciences. Inwardly, Nosiz desperately wished for another invasion, just a small one, no massive harm done, just to get people refocused on the real issues in Sirius, issues like the K’hara and the Daam K’vosh, and whatever alien life forms that humanity shares a home with. But he also wished he could find a better tenure, a better employer, somebody who truly appreciates the xenosciences, who appreciate his work, how it lends to the good of all of humanity and all of Sirius.
“Dr. Nosiz?” A voice called out.
Nosiz noticed his surroundings, having been wrapped up in his thoughts this whole time. He was out in the university’s campus, a small wooded park area made for recreation and relaxation. The Terran trees were beginning to turn shades of yellow, red, brown, and orange in response to seasonal changes. When he turned to meet the individual addressing him, he was met with a man about his own age, perhaps older. Fair blond hair and blue eyes, as well as the accent, told the xenoscientist that he was being addressed by a Rheinlander, or at least a man of immediate Rheinland descent. Wrinkles lined the man’s face, worn into it by time and age, and he sported a thin blond beard, which, along with his hair, was showing the first signs of graying, though only Nosiz’s keen eyes betrayed the greys from the blonds. He was wearing a dark outfit, black pants and long-sleeved shirt, both made of cloth, with a simple cardigan and dark grey scarf being his primary defense against the day’s chill.
“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” Nosiz inquired.
“Yes, Doctor, I believe so. You see, I am here on Cambridge for a very specific purpose, and I believe that you can assist me in fulfilling that purpose.” The Rheinlander responded. There was something about him that made Nosiz feel uneasy, but he discarded the suspicion. He had no reason other than intuition to distrust the man, he would not make hasty judgements.
“And what would that be, if I may be so bold to ask?” The doctor pried.
“You see, Doctor, there are certain… interests, in Sirius, whom I represent today in calling on you. These interests have a very keen need for brilliant and… open-minded men, shall we say, such as you.”
“You’ve yet to answer my question.” Nosiz replied, somewhat impatient, his concern growing at the man’s vagueness.
“Forgive me. The organization which I represent, you see, has an interest in employing you for your scientific mind and renown as one of Sirius’ leading xenoscientists.” The Rheinlander entreated.
“Employing me? I am already employed, as I believe you can see, sir.” Nosiz replied.
“Yes, I am aware of your current tenure here on Cambridge. However, I am also aware that the terms of this tenure have become increasingly… tense, shall we say?”
“...How do you know that?” Nosiz demanded, becoming almost frightened at the man’s apparent pre-information.
“As I said,” The agent responded, a smile that seemed to be intended for reassurance but gave an air of intimidation, “I represent certain interests. These interests have a wide influence and many eyes and ears. Now, are you interested in the terms of employment?”
Nosiz felt unsure… such an organization sounded only quasi-legal at best. While the best this agent had offered was insight into Cambridge’s spending, the doctor could feel it in his gut that this man could tell him what the Queen is having for lunch tomorrow. An organization with such a long arm likely had a strong fist to go with it… and strong fists require money… money that, obviously, can be spent on research…
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Excellent. It is a research contract, you see. My people will provide for you a research vessel, fully stocked with all equipment needed for the experiments you may need to conduct, as well as a full crew compliment and a healthfully sized team of researchers and scientists to assist you. You will be sent into several Edge Worlds, most of which are barely charted, if charted at all. It will be deep space research, as you can imagine.You will be based on a small outpost established and controlled by my organization near these worlds. You will receive stipends for each discovery, the sizes of which will be determined at the discretion of my superiors upon reporting said discoveries. In addition, your family will receive a fair salary, double your current salary, for the year you will be absent-”
“I’m sorry, what?” Nosiz interrupted, incredulous.
The agent smiled. “Yes, double your-”
“Not that, the- year?” Nosiz exclaimed, incredulous. The agent seemed to grow sober and somber.
“I am afraid so. There is much to be done, and my superiors need it all to be done. As I said, your family will be well compensated.” The agent explained.
“But… my son…”
“Your desire to be present for the birth of your first child’s life is understandable, doctor, but this research is critical for both my organization, and all of Sirius.”
“All of-... you cannot expect me to believe you when you say “all of Sirius”!” Nosiz spat.
“But I must, Doctor. My organization is dedicated to the safeguarding of humanity in Sirius. Everything we do is critical for the safety of Sirius.” The agent calmly explained.
“I… I…” Nosiz could find no words.
“Doctor, would you believe me if I said I had once been in the same position as you? Being forced to choose between my family and loved ones and my ideals?” The agent offered. He sounded sincere; sad, even.
“I… suppose…” Nosiz stuttered.
“Except for me, Dr. Nosiz, the choice was final. I could have one, or the other. Choosing one would forever bar me from the alternative. I could be a father and husband, or a Colonel. I had to choose between what I wanted to do and what I had to do. You, Doctor, will still have a family to return to. You do not have to pick one or the other. Your son will be here, as will your wife. Both of your loved ones, safe and sound. I promise. I will arrange for their protection, even.”
The agent was tempting Nosiz now. This was precisely what he knew he wanted to do in his life, precisely the chance he needed to make a difference in Sirius, for good of all its denizens. He would even secure the force of an organization as powerful and illustrious as this to keep his family safe while he was away. It seemed like the perfect deal, and yet…
No. There can be no hesitation here, he told himself. Your family will be here later, you can count on that. You cannot count on this opportunity.
“Very well. I will discuss it with my wife, but I can assure you that I will not be hindered by her objections. She will come around. What am I to do?” Nosiz said, resolution firm in his voice.
“Come to the university landing pad nearest to your house tomorrow at midday, with only as much luggage as you can carry on your person. I will be there with transport. I thank you for your cooperation, Doctor.” The agent held his hand out, and Nosiz shook it with some firmness. The two men parted ways, but Nosiz suddenly realized something and turned around.
“What is your name, exactly?” He inquired.
“Ah, my manners. My name is Kress, Doctor. Colonel Kress.”
Kress… the xenoscientist felt like he knew the name, but it eluded him for the moment. Disregarding this, Nosiz walked to his office to gather his things and write his resignation. Tomorrow was to be a new day, a bold new day.
A bright and beautiful, to be sure.
Ten Months Later... - NraVadumee - 12-22-2013
Ten Months Later...
Somewhere in the Edge Worlds…“Doctor Nosiz, shields are down! Hull integrity is plummeting!”
Dr. Allan Nosiz needed a bloody new rating system for his days.
“Doctor Nosiz, the entire starboard section is - Oh no, no, no, no - Karen!!”
He had suffered some pretty abysmal days recently.
“Doctor Nosiz, Doctor Nosiz, they’re coming around for another run!”
Some real proper abysmals, to be honest.
“Doctor Nosiz, Doctor- AHHHHH!”
But this was just ridiculous.
Nine straight months of successful research endeavors, uncovering artifacts from the Edge Worlds that seemed to promise the biggest slew of xenoscientific discoveries since the Nomad War. He was permitted basing rights to a small asteroid outpost on the extreme edge of the Omicron Mu system, though he was never permitted to actually enter the system proper. He was never told exactly why he was threatened with immediate, on-sight hostility and a fire-at-will hit on him if he ever so much as blipped on their sensors. Naturally, as a clever man, he began piecing together a couple of theories.
He knew he was working for a shady organization with immense power, and immense power usually implies some degree of military might. Military might implies some central rally point or base of operations, and such a location would be… a sensitive subject. He suspected that, if Omicron Mu wasn’t such a location, it contained a jump hole or jump gate to one. He never determined who exactly was funding his work, nor how they gathered the funds, nor even the full extent of their operations and their legal status. He chose not to ask too many questions, though; he was conducting research, and while he was hoping to perhaps find some live K’hara specimens, that was all that mattered.
Well, it didn’t really matter anymore, given that he got exactly what he wanted.
They came out of nowhere, blips on the sensors. The crew seemed to fall silent when inquired as to their ID. Once they entered visual range, Nosiz recognized them instantly.
K’hara. Labraid Voidrunners. Six of them. Patrolling the nebula on the edge of the system, no doubt. Protecting their space. And Nosiz’s vessel was in their space.
They opened fire immediately. Nosiz knew that the Slomon K’hara were extremely advanced, but the sheer firepower they brought down was incredible. The shields were ruptured in seconds, and now it was a matter of how long before the entire ship went up in flames. Explosions were rending the helm as Nosiz looked in horror at the flames and explosions around him. One crew member had gone running to find his lady friend in vain, and another had already suffered near-complete decapitation from an exploding terminal. The entire ship was rocking from the concentrated firepower rending its hull, and the nanobots were hard at work. The pilot already discharged every shield battery in the hold; it amounted to about seven seconds of relief from the assault. The nanobots were next, and even now, Nosiz could tell that they were almost entirely expended. The ship was going to be doomed if he didn’t do something in the next few seconds.
“Pilot! Chart a course for the jump hole out of here! Engage cruise engines!” Nosiz commanded, barely getting the words out. He was no military officer, and the trembling in his voice showed it.
“Cruise engines?? We’ll be sitting ducks!” The pilot responded incredulously
“We either engage the cruise engines now and hope we can escape or sit here and die! Engage the engines and prepare to discharge the counter-measures in case of cruise disruptors!”
“Aye aye, sir!”
The ship heaved as the auto-navigator set it for the jump hole that would lead to their salvation, and the lights began flickering as the already stressed power core began directing energy to the engines. This was it; success meant living, and failure meant death. Nosiz bit his lips as the world around him seemed to fade away. An alarm and flashing red light meant that missiles were inbound; explosives or disruptors meant death either way. The pilot let loose a counter-measure, silencing the alert, but it simply came back to life a single rapid heartbeat later. Nosiz couldn’t see or hear the counter-measures or their launcher, but he knew on some level that it was going to be a cloud of flares back there.
“Cruise at 75%! Prepare for energy discharge!” The pilot exclaimed, and sure enough, the little indicator showing the reserve energy usually used for weaponry shrunk down to a tiny slice as the cruise engines prepared to burst into full power. More missiles, more flares. The K’hara were relentless in their hunt, thirsty for nothing less than the kill.
With perfect timing, the cruise engines came to life, sending the ship accelerating ahead at more than three times its impulse speed. It seemed the K’hara were low on disruptors, because the alert took a whole three seconds to activate now. By that point, they were exiting the K’hara’s range. But if this disruptor hit, it would shut down the cruise engines just long enough for them to catch up and finish the job. Hopeful, Nosiz looked at the pilot’s display, and lost most of his face’s color.
The counter-measures were completely expended. The only hope now was to outrace the missile and draw it out past its operating range before it impacted.
“Come on… come on…” Nosiz prayed to nobody in particular under his breath. He watched the indicator countdown he missile’s distance.
400 meters…
300…
200…
100…
...The ship did not rock or shake or explode.
They made it.
Nosiz released a sigh of relief, his eyes tearing in joy at the miracle he had just experienced. However, as he regained his composure, he looked up to see the display flashing with red lights.
“What… what is all of this?” He inquired.
“System failures. I had them set aside to focus on surviving, but… it seems like they’re… extensive…” The pilot had responded.
“Extensive? What kind of damage are we looking at?” Nosiz demanded. Fear of a Pyrrhic victory rose in his mind.
“Shields are permanently disabled… engines are severely damaged, we’ll have to shut down the cruise engines ASAP before they overload and detonate… life support is barely operational, but it will still keep us alive indefinitely… hull is a broken up shell… the rest of the crew is either dead or going to be dead in a few minutes… primary reactor is too damaged to operate at full capacity, which means reserve power isn’t going to regenerate…”
“... Are we going to make it?” Nosiz asked grimly.
“...Yeah, I think so. But it’s going to be a long trip back to base. We’re going to be running at minimal engine use, which means speeds at and below 3 m/s. Food and water mean trips to the mess hall, which seems to be… generally safe. There shouldn’t be issues in getting basic survival needs… so it’s all just a matter of how long, rather than if. And it’s going to be long.”
Nosiz reviewed the situation. They were flying at a snail’s pace, but they were going to live. They had taken several jump holes to this system, which was the furthest out they had gone, and some of them probably weren’t going to be properly phase-aligned when they arrived, which meant waiting potentially weeks to jump from one system to the next. And they had to play dead whenever a K’hara ship came by…
It was going to be rough.
But they were going to make it.
He would see his family again.
And that made it worth it.
“Let’s get started, then.”