Galileo (Battle of the Species) (14 page)

“Level C species are aggressive predators that can be avoided, but dangerous if one comes into contact with them. Level C plants are benign to a minimum of 25% of species.

“Level D species can neither be reasoned with, nor avoided. Any species, other than their own, is marked for death and if they catch wind of you, they will hunt you until you’re dead. Level D plants are malignant to all living organisms, but can be controlled.

“Level E species are so dangerous that they can only be monitored with automaton. It may not even be that they have an aggressive disposition; rather, it could be because they are too poisonous, too infectious, or too unstable, for another living creature to come into contact with them. Level E plants are malignant to all organisms and cannot be controlled. They will seek and destroy other living organisms.

“Now, please make a habit of not only memorizing the information about the species themselves, but also what planet they come from.
There are six classes of planets: One, two, three, four, five, and you guessed it, six.

“Class One planets are the easiest to survive and sustain living habitats. They’re planets like Earth, Temin, and Torres…” she said, looking around at the students, guessing their home planets as examples.

“Class Two planets require a little more precaution, due to either the environment or a somewhat aggressive species that one would find there. If a traveler is prepared for the planet, however, then it is still considered relatively safe.

“Class Three planets are rough. Cybernex requires most members of a species to be fully-grown before they are allowed access to the planet, but the Federation can bypass this requirement if the underage traveler has their parent’s permission. Regardless of age, one must be on high alert at all times. An example of a Class Three planet would be Laretas, where one would no doubt come into contact with Fallures and Traites. I believe we have a few species in this classroom who enjoy eating Fallures for dinner,” the Professor added, causing some students to giggle and nod.

“Class Four planets are always dangerous and don’t usually contain species who have been accepted into the Federation. Skilled fighters and those heavily armed don’t usually survive on Class Four planets for long. Individuals who aren’t fully grown are not allowed on these planets, with or without their parent’s permission.

“Class Five planets are off limits to all Federation citizens. The planets are still able to sustain life and have an atmosphere that contains oxygen, water, and gravity, but there are either Class E species roaming around or an environment ill suited for travelers. Authorization to access these planets would be required from both the Federation and Cybernex, and the likelihood of the traveler’s return is minimal.

“Class Six planets cannot sustain life, regardless of whether it’s due to severe temperature, lack of atmosphere, or whether the planets are simply comprised of gas.”

“But the level of species is not always parallel to the class of planet. As in, not all Level A species belong to a Class One planet. Take Crystallians for example,” she said, nodding to Leo. “Crystalline is a Class Two planet, but Crystallians are a Level A species. Understand?”

The class nodded, prompting the Professor to announce, “Great. Now let’s begin.” 　

****

After lunch, Renn followed Dylan to their robotics class and soon got the impression that Dylan was a bit of a technophile. He talked with great enthusiasm about the different robots he had already built on Temin and the designs he planned on putting into use while onboard the ship.

“Most advanced weapons are so dangerous to make that you’re more likely to blow yourself up before you can even get the design right,” Dylan explained. “But if you build it in a simulation room, not only does it not cost anything to build, but you can test it out, and if you die…well, you don’t actually die.”

They walked into a long rectangular room with desks near the front entrance, only taking up one fourth of the space. The rest of the room looked like a workshop with bins of bearings and screws, hubs and fuses, adapters and controls, all down the side of the walls. Half assembled automata stood at the end of the room, with tags listing the names of the students still working on them. There were large tables where the students could spread their work out, compiling the pieces until they came to life. Dylan’s eyes lit up like a child opening a present.

They sat down in the front row, with Dylan unwilling to consider another option. When the bell chimed, a middle aged Temian introduced herself as Professor Tamar.

“If one says to another, ‘robot’, one instantly conjures an image in their head of what they think a robot is and what it should look like,” Professor Tamar began. “The word ‘robot’, however, is an incredibly broad term, encompassing all the machines that were built to serve functions…”

Renn’s attention span hit a wall after a few minutes and he zoned the professor out. He turned on his tablet, looking through the lessons they would be working on throughout the year in robotics class, finding that the lessons would become more interesting as time went on. He would first have to endure sitting through the basics and categorizing the machines, then learn how they were built, then start to build them himself, then devote an entire quarter year to using androids in battle, fighting against them, and designing weapons for warfare.
Renn thought that was pretty intense for a First Year, but was glad he had a roommate who could guide him, if he staggered along the way.

They made their way back to their dorms after class, while Rudy whined about being “forced” to take robotics. Renn overheard Dylan’s thoughts and was a little startled when he realized that Rudy was coming close to getting pushed into a wall. He knew Dylan had applied to the Galileo for their extensive robotics program, but didn’t realize till that moment how defensive he could get about his passion.

Dylan opened his mouth to let out what Renn could only assume would be a biting retort. Renn, however, interrupted and quickly spat out how much he loved the length of the human girls’ short dresses. Dylan took one look at the legs of the beautiful brunette sashaying in front of them and his mouth closed, creeping into a grin.

They walked into the dorm common area and headed for the stairs. Renn glanced at the Federation news airing on the large screen and thought little about it until it registered what the topic of the report was.

“…the ship was destroyed by an Eminite expansion blast,” the reporter said matter-of-factly, as if rattling off the weather.

Renn froze, straining to breathe.
Don’t be the Quintessence. Don’t be the Quintessence
, he thought.

“The ship was reported to be carrying over two hundred Mindeerian refugees, but the Quintessence has reported that all passengers were safely evacuated in time…”

Renn took a deep breath and slowly made his way up the stairs. He tried to reassure himself that she was all right, but knew
all right
didn’t mean she was safe.

***

The next day was the First Years’ day off and Dylan, Leo, and Renn used it to go over the homework they had amassed in such a short period of time.

The door to their room was still sliding open when Rudy came barreling in. He looked around at the guys like they were crazy and said, “What are you guys all sitting there for? We’re not gonna get good seats! BOTS starts in, like five minutes!”

They all jumped up, dug their feet into their shoes, and raced out the door.

Renn stopped in the doorway, realizing Leo wasn’t following them, and instead, remained on his bed, frowning while he watched everyone leave.

“You coming, Leo?” Renn asked.

“No, I’m gonna stay here and study,” Leo said, grabbing his tablet from his desk.

“See you later,” Renn said, running to catch up with the others.

They ran down the halls and into the simulation room, finding that the room had been turned into an immense stadium arena with large white steps for sitting, surrounding the combat field. Renn looked to his left as they made their way up the stairs and saw two dozen First Years in black combat suits waiting in a holding tank near the entrance while they stretched and warmed up.

The stadium was already full, but Ava was good enough to increase the amount of steps when the stands required more space. Only First Years competed that day, and Renn had expected First Years to be the only students in the stands, but it looked as if the entire ship went to watch. It made sense, he thought, since there wasn’t much else to do on the ship, other than study.

He sat down, looking around, and saw a hologram scoreboard high in the air to his right. To the left of it was a tree of teams competing that day, displaying which students would be fighting, and the teams they would be fighting against. He scanned the names at the base of the tree, recognizing most of them. To the right of the scoreboard were four slots, ready to display the players’ information.

The students in the stands became restless in anticipation, and the older students stamped their feet, paws, and hooves in unison. The First Years picked up the beat and joined them in the rhythm.

“So, there are five levels of the game,” Dylan explained, “and they’re based on the same classifications the Federation uses to categorize how dangerous a planet is, but Ava decides where on the planet to put the fighters, and she usually picks the most dangerous spot, right next to the deadliest species.

“Now, in the first level, fighters aren’t allowed any weapons, and if they have powers they can use as weapons, like Mindeerian’s lightning, Ava disables them so the fighters have to fight with their hands and by strategy alone.

“Players are allowed one weapon apiece on level two, and Ava reinitiates all of the fighters’ given powers. And from level two on, they can request as much gear as they want, like a helmet or jacket, or something.

“Level three is usually difficult to survive. Each fighter can choose up to two weapons, but it’s a good rule of thumb not to request a weapon you haven’t used before, because it’s too easy to shoot yourself or your teammate if you don’t know how to use it properly.

“You’re allowed three weapons apiece on four and five. And though most people don’t make it to level five, if you do, you’ll probably die within a couple seconds like everyone else. It’s like level four times two.”

Dylan stopped talking when rails ascended around the steps for safety, and the seats lifted high into the air, providing everyone with a better view.

“Let the games commence,” Ava said, to the delight of the cheering crowd.

The first two teams were announced and each player ran out into the arena, while Ava posted their picture above their names and species’ classifications.

The first players called out were Kia Eber, a Toran, and Desh, a Mindeerian, versus Remi Barron, a human, and Sargus 29, a Zeanup.

“Do Zeanups have powers?” Renn asked, watching Sargus run out. “They’re just like extra strong purple humans, right?”

“No, Zeanups have advanced skin regeneration,” Dylan replied. “You have to be very precise when you aim at a Zeanup and make sure you kill them before the wound heals itself. But that’s not considered a weapon, so they’ve got that in the first level.”

“Gotcha,” Renn said.

“The planet is Aronzac,” Ava announced.

Desh, Kia, Remi, and Sargus spread out and put their feet securely on the ground, while dilapidated skyscrapers rose from the floor around the players and the ground changed to black soot. A foreboding gray sky replaced the ceiling and the fighters walked around, gaining their bearings. It looked like a city, long since deserted, slowly decaying in the salty air.

Renn looked up towards the scoreboard, overwhelmed by the information it provided. It displayed the basic information about the planet such as size, mass, gravity level, air consistency and Federation classification. There were pictures and names of the most likely species they would encounter; who the fighters were, whether they were alive, dead, or wounded; accessories and weapons the fighters chose and any advantages their species would have, like wings or advanced skin regeneration. Desh’s list of advantages seemed to go on forever, but it was the human’s list that caught his eye.

“Why is ‘suit’ listed under a human’s advantage?” Renn asked Dylan.

“Humans are allowed bionic suits, which are enabled even on level one,” Dylan said. “It gives the player more strength, but isn’t considered a weapon. It just makes it more fair. As species goes, we’re kind of weak.”

“Fighters, prepare,” Ava advised.

Renn had to admit it ― he was dying to see a Toran fly and a Mindeerian fight, even if it was Kia and Desh.

Renn once again marveled at the simulation’s vivid imagery and occasionally glanced back at the arena seats to remind himself he was on a ship, feeling disoriented by the graphic illusion.

“The game will begin in five, four, three, two, one,” Ava counted down.

On “one,” a breeze blew through the arena and the clouds began to glide. The fighters walked around cautiously, waiting for inevitable danger. Footsteps in the rafters of the empty buildings could be heard, causing the metal to bend and moan.　

Kia froze, listening.

Desh stopped and turned to look at him. “You hear someth…”

Before Desh could finish his sentence, a large beast with gray hide jumped from one of the buildings. It tackled him to the ground as more creatures jumped into the street, running on their hind legs and knuckles. Some sniffed the air, savoring the smell of the fresh meat that had wandered into the city sparse of food.

Renn looked up towards the board, finding the picture of the beast to be an animal called a Mathus (or Mathi for plural).

Mathi’s teeth were too large for their mouths and the one that was now on Desh’s chest snapped wildly, trying to reach Desh’s neck.

He kicked the Mathus off, grabbing a rusty pipe lying by an old garbage heap. The beast charged him again, but was stopped when the beast’s muzzle made contact with Desh’s impromptu weapon.