[The White Raven, Chapter 11, Red Feather] [Clapper Province, House Eagle, Planet Darai] “General, wake up, Red Feather priority message from the Commonwealth Senate.” Vas’s feet hit the ground before the Com-Officer could finish his sentence. A Red Feather message launches every Daraian warship to pre-assigned solar system defensive positions. Peli is only a step behind him. “Did you send someone to wake the others?” asks Vas, grabbing his flight suit and pulling it on. “Yes, General, I sent the night runner.” “You’ll be in our ship, grab your flight gear,” orders Vas. Vas runs outside and across the compound to the Dining Cabin. Hanging from the porch, just of reach of the younger hatchlings, is an air horn purchased from a sporting goods store. The air horn is intended for emergencies such as forest fire; Vas grabs the horn and pushes the button. The horn pierces the morning air and the birds in the trees above take flight to escape the startling sound. Cabin doors bang open as orphans stumble from their beds. Some of the hatchlings are confused, but older orphans and the teaching staff quickly take charge and begin assembling the camp into their evacuation groups. The new High Priestess is the first to arrive at the porch of the Dining Cabin, followed by the White Raven and the others of the Moeth Alliance. Vas scans the groups of hatchlings, for the most part they are assembling better than could be expected. The only real confusion are the guests with no idea where to go; nothing to be done there, they will be on their own. “Any idea what this is about?” Vas asks the High Priestess. “I called the Hawk Temple, there’s just as much confusion there as here, maybe more, the Hawk early warning stations aren’t picking up any attacking fleets.” “Teal, are you and Willet picking up anything on the Dart scanner?” whispers Vas on the Com-link. “Just a lot of confusion, everyone is saying the same thing, there is no sign of an invading fleet,” whispers Teal. Vas looks out at the hundreds of waiting orphans and staff of House Eagle, and hesitates over the next decision that has to be made. “General, we have a Red Feather launch order,” says the High Priestess. “This is a military decision, you have to decide.” Vas nods. “White Raven, we have that Cargo Ship we took from the smugglers, you will fly it,” orders Vas. “Transfer all our eggs from the hatchery to the Cargo Ship with all the six-year olds, and take five females that have just come to egg bearing age, and five males. Our assigned evacuation point is the Saerus mining colony, go there.” “Wise decision, General,” says the High Priestess. “We know the Eagle should be six years old, if he is in the camp that decision will save him.” “My acolytes?” asks the White Raven. “They are nine years old,” says Vas, looking down at Kata and Cala waiting to hear their fate. “No special treatment, they stay and fight.” Kata and Cala hugs the White Raven. “We love you,” says Kata, and then the two white haired acolytes walks off to join a group of orphans. Cala stops and looks back at the High Priestess. “I’m sorry for what I did,” says Cala. “May I die with my wings on?” The High Priestess nods and Cala runs to catch up with Kata. “The High Priestess is a Hawk and has the most command experience," says Vas. "She will remain here and take command of the ground defense." Vas steps up on the porch and faces the assembly of Eagle orphans, and staff… Vas scans the crowd of faces… No, they are all Eagles, every one of them. “House Eagle,” shouts Vas. “We are in a Red Feather event, we have no other details than that. I am sending our hatchery and the six year olds away on the Cargo ship, everyone else old enough to walk will fight. We have some weapons that will be passed out to those that know how to use them. The rest of you will use rocks and sticks and fangs and talons.” The orphans are silent, trying to absorb the information. “I will take our four fighter Darts and join the First Defense Wave with House Hawk. But know this,” shouts Vas. “I will not ask you to go where I have not first gone.” Vas pauses for effect before continuing. “I will be waiting in the Land of the Ancestors to greet each of you when you arrive. Make the invaders pay for every step they take on Darai.” Cala raises his fist in the air and shouts. “EAGLES!” That breaks the silence and the Eagle orphans roar a battle cry that would make seasoned warriors proud. “Vas,” whispers Teal. “I’m hearing now that the early warning detectors have picked up a large fleet approaching our solar system.” “We launch now,” whispers Vas. “High Priestess, we stole a nuke from House Clapper last year and made it look like House Jackdaw stole it. I never did like the Jackdaws, can’t ever tell who’s side they’re on. The cook knows where it’s hidden, have him bring it up to the camp.” “So that was you?” says the High Priestess. “They blamed House Hawk for awhile, almost started a war.” “Yea, sorry, we’re Ravens, stealing is what we do,” says Vas, grinning. “Raen was against it, but Moeth wanted it as leverage if anything here ever went bad, and it looks like it has.” “I will use it wisely when the time comes. The enemy will never take House Eagle.” says the High Priestess. "And General…” “Yes?” “Be an Eagle.” ***** [Hawk Province, Gaevin Farm, Planet Darai] Cody rolled to the side as the stout stick swung down at his head, but he didn’t stop at one roll, he knew better now and kept rolling until he was certain of his opponents position. The hawk wings he now wore had taken getting used to, but after three weeks he wasn’t tripping over them anymore. “Good, but don’t just lie there and wait for me to charge you,” says Gaevin. Cody jumps to his feet and brings his own practice stick up to the ready position. “There you go, well done.” “You haven’t answered my question yet,” says Cody. Gaevin leans on his battle stave and frowns at the boy. The boy’s muscles are already starting to fill out after only three weeks of proper food and exercise. Whoever the woman was that took care of him didn’t feed him enough and his ribs had been showing. That was probably the reason she abandoned him, she couldn’t feed him. “You can call me Master Gaevin or Sir.” Cody’s eyes drop to the ground and his shoulders dip slightly in disappointment. “That wasn’t the answer you wanted, was it?” asks Gaevin. Cody shakes his head. “Doesn’t seem proper,” says Gaevin. “You’re not exactly an orphan I can just claim.” “He says he wants you to,” says Cody. “Hawks can’t project like other Daraians, but we can sense the presence of an ancestor. Though, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of anyone being able to talk to one. He must have been an exceptional Hawk.” “He’s not a Hawk,” says Cody. “What’s he look like?” asks Gaevin. Cody shrugs. “I don’t know, tall, and wears a hat and a long coat. I like the coat. And a gun on his leg.” Cody makes a motion as if fast drawing a revolver. “You just described a Gunslinger,” says Gaevin. “But you don’t have the look of a human half-breed, no, you’re definitely a pure blood Daraian.” “I don’t know.” “About ten years ago there were five Sparrows chosen to attend the Gunslinger Academy. I remember it, such a thing is rare.” Gaevin pauses to think, the boy is about the right age. “A Sparrow Gunslinger was murdered around six-years ago, I think I know who your father is. What does he want me to do?” “He says you know,” says Cody. “Where’s he at right now?” asks Gaevin. Cody points next to Gaevin, and Gaevin turns to face the Being only Cody can see. “I would be honored, Sir, but I will raise him as a Hawk, not a Sparrow,” says Gaevin. “He says yes,” says Cody. ““And no more keeping him up after bed-time,” Gaevin shakes his head at the ancestor. “I’ve heard the boy having conversations at mid-night.” “He says you can pick when he is allowed to visit,” says Cody. “How about an evening walk after dinner?” asks Gaevin. “But not when other people are about, even Hawks will start to think the boy is touched in the head.” “He says that’s okay,” says Cody. “And what of you, Cody, are you certain?” asks Gaevin. Cody nods. “Then you have my word, Sir,” Gaevin tells the unseen ancestor. Gaevin turns away from the ancestor and puts his arm around the boy’s shoulder. “Come on, son, the sun is almost up, your mother will have breakfast ready, and then we have a full day in the orchards,” says Gaevin. “Is it okay if I call you both father?” asks Cody. “Yes, of course,” says Gaevin. “He says you should give me a pocket-knife,” says Cody. Gaevin glances down at the boy. Cody is trying hard to keep a straight face. “I doubt he said that,” says Gaevin. “How do you know?” asks Cody, grinning. “He gave his word,” says Gaevin. “Gunslingers are famous for never breaking their word, he’s already gone until after dinner, so he couldn't have said that. Now run on ahead and wash-up for breakfast.” Gaevin watches the boy run ahead to the farmhouse. Gaevin had felt the presence of an ancestor, but whether the boy was having a conversation with his departed father… well, not even Hawks are that superstitious. It was better to play along and carefully start weaning the boy from having conversations with the dead, that isn’t a healthy activity. The boy will have his pretend visits in the evening for awhile until he starts to feel safe in his new home. A squadron of fighter Darts roars past the farm, and then another, and another. Gaevin watches the Darts tip upward and head for orbit. A moment later individual Darts from neighboring farms are rocketing for orbit. “Ancestors preserve us,” whispers Gaevin, running the best he can on his bad leg for the farmhouse. Mae is already running towards the barn where their Dart ship is stored Cody running in hand next to her. “Hurry,” shouts Mae. “It’s a Red Feather.” “We’re taking the boy?” shouts Gaevin. “He’d never trust us again if we left him behind,” says Mae. “I suppose you’re right,” says Gaevin. “We’re on the fifth wave so we have a good chance of surviving.” ***** [Sparrow Province, Sparrow Science Academy, Planet Darai] Pesa lay on the floor between a stack of books on plasma electrolytic oxidation of valve metals and physicochemical analysis and synthesis of nonstoichiometric solids. Host 74, The Cargo Jockeys, had been heading to bed just after mid-night when the Vid-Screen with their reading assignments chirped. “We need to check that,” mumbles Pesa sleepily. The twenty-five Sparrow students stood on the stairs leading up to the promise of five hours of sleep, nobody wanted to be the one to climb back down the stairs to check the Vid-Screen. “I got it,” grumbles Tonae, walking back down to the library floor of the building. Tonae taps the screen for the incoming message. “What? They can’t do this!” “What is it?” asks Pesa. “The assignment has changed,” says Tonae. “Everything we read today is the wrong assignment for tomorrow.” “You must be reading the assignment date wrong,” says Pesa, heading back down the stairs. “No, look,” says Tonae, “we have an entirely different assignment due in the morning.” The others moan and follow Pesa, and gather around the Vid-Screen to read the new assignment. “Okay, let’s see, there’s fifteen and three, four upper and six lower studies with five lecture papers, and we have eight hours. If we skip breakfast we… umm… I can’t think,” says Pesa. “We can’t do the normal rotation, there isn’t enough time,” says Tonae. “Yes, we have thirty-five minutes on each rotation,” says Pesa, adding up the time available for everyone to have with the shared books. Pesa taps the screen and moves the reading material into twenty-five lists, and then taps the print button. “Okay, grab your lists, lets get started,” orders Pesa. “I’ll take center on row thirteen.” The early weeks in the library was a cluster of confusion until Pesa had the inspiration to borrow an idea from her time on her families Cargo Ship. The concept was simple, cargo pods are rotated between loading docks to maximize down-time stops between cargo runs. Sometimes all the Cargo pods contained the same product, like copper, but often the pods contained a specific order of many different products the customer ordered. Those types of orders were the hardest to load, but the easiest to deliver. The Cargo Ship didn’t even have to brake, but instead, jettisoned the correct container as they passed the planet. The pod would auto re-entry into the atmosphere and land at a pre-designated area. The customer would unload, and then the pod would launch back into orbit and wait for a Cargo Ship to pick up the empty pod. Pesa thought of each of the students of her Host as a cargo pod requiring a specific load, and the rows of books on the shelves as orbital loading platforms. After that it was just a matter of enforcing the time limit for each student/cargo pod in that row of books/loading platform. But now, the change of schedule would be like trying to load two-hundred tons of product in thirty-five minutes, when it usually took fifty-three minutes. The additional eighteen minutes, while they were already exhausted, would be nearly impossible. The Host began their rotation, Pesa lying on the ground between the rows of books and read her first rotation of books for thirty-five minutes. The timer on the Vid-Screen Pesa had set beeped, signaling time to rotate. “Rotate,” shouts Pesa. Three books… three books she hadn’t been able to get to. If the questions for the summary the Priestess brought every morning included any information from those three books, she would… what? Fail? Be quietly executed? They hadn’t lost any students from her Host, yet, but she knew of Host’s that had. “Pesa, what are you doing?” asks Tonae. “That was the last rotation.” “Huh? It is? How much time is left before the Priestess gets here?” asks Pesa. “Seventeen minutes,” replies Tonae. “Seventeen minutes… Free for all!” shouts Pesa. Pesa grabs the three books and runs for the safety of a corner. This was one of those times it was all about self-preservation. Everyone was on their own to find any book they needed to read. Fist fights broke out during free for all times as the Host ran and grabbed for books they desperately needed to pass the reading review when the Priestess arrived. A scuffle broke out two rows away, but Pesa couldn’t do anything about it; natural selection was now in play. She furiously flipped through the pages of the books, hoping nobody else needed the three books she had. The Vid-Screen beeped. That couldn’t have been seventeen-minutes. The Priestess must be early. Pesa continued to flip the pages, barely comprehending the material as she attempted to absorb entire pages at a time. “Great Goddess save us,” shouts Tonae. “Pesa get over here, now, it’s a Red Feather.” Pesa drops the book, forgotten, and a chill runs through her wing blades. A Red Feather… it must be the Kitsune, nobody else has ever attempted to invade Darai. Pesa scrambles to her feet and runs to the Vid-Screen; it’s flashing red and beeping, the words Red Feather emblazoned across the screen. She taps on the screen but nothing happens. “It’s a priority message,” says Tonae. “You have to put in your Host Leader authorization code to receive it.” Pesa’s fingers are trembling and it takes two attempts to get her authorization code typed in. The red screen disappears and instructions appear. *Lift Shuttle activated, Host 74 assigned to the Mulae Farael Battle Carrier, automated launch in two minutes* “The roof, run,” shouts Pesa, unnecessarily, half the Host is already running up the stairs. Tonae grabs Pesa’s arm, “Lets go.” “We should grab some spare clothes,” says Pesa. Tonae stops long enough to stare Pesa in the eyes. “Pesa, we’re on the Second Wave, we won’t be alive long enough to need them.” Pesa pulls away from Tonae’s grasp, “I have to get something.” “Pesa,” shouts Tonae. “This is the survival of our species, nothing else matters anymore.” “This matters,” shouts Pesa running over to a shelf and grabbing a study tablet from the rack. The tablets are shared items and never supposed to leave the library floor. Tonae’s expression turns to anger, but Pesa never attended school on Darai and didn’t have the same conditioning through years of practice drills. Pesa runs back, but Tonae just glares at her and doesn’t move. “The planet is under attack and you stop to get a tablet?” asks Tonae. “I’m ready, lets go,” says Pesa. “It’s so you can write that boy you’ve been writing,” accuses Tonae. “Tonae, it took two seconds, come on, the Lift will launch without us,” says Pesa. “I’m here with you every day, not someplace on the other side of the galaxy, and I’m going to be holding your hand when our Battle Carrier rams a Kitsune Battle Carrier and we’re sucked out into space,” yells Tonae. “You’re jealous?” asks Pesa, shocked. “Tonae, I know that Jaco and I will never be together, he’s too old for me, and he’s a Raven, but he’s my best friend. If you wanted to mate with me, just ask, I like you, you would make a good mate, just don’t ever try to take Jaco away.” “You would mate with me?” asks Tonae. “Yes, but can we please go save the planet first?” says Pesa. Pesa and Tonae took the stairs two at a time at a dead run to the roof. The door was open and the others of the Host were already aboard and the side ramp was beginning to raise. Pesa and Tonae had to use their wings to leap up and over the closing ramp, tumbling inside and landing in a heap inside the Lift Shuttle. “What took you so long?” asked Selae. Selae was a bossy girl that had declared herself second-in-command of the Host. Tonae said nothing but the dumb grin on his face told everyone he must have finally asked Pesa to be his mate. Everyone had been expecting it for awhile, but Tonae had been shy because of the letters Pesa was sending to that boy, Jaco. “This is a dumb time for that,” scolds Selae. “You’re supposed to be in the pilot’s seat.” Pesa scrambled for the cockpit while Tonae strapped himself into a jump seat behind her. Pesa wasn’t really going to be flying the Lift Shuttle, she only had to be ready to take the controls if the auto-pilot failed, or if an attack came against the shuttle. Pesa had been in a Lift Shuttle before, but doubted the others had. “Hang on, Lift Shuttles are brutal,” shouts Pesa. Other Lift Shuttles, by the thousands, were lifting off from the roofs of the other Academy buildings, and from buildings all over the city. The Sparrows, being the largest manufacturer of spacecraft, had the fastest and best evacuation and response system to transport it’s population into orbit and augment the waiting fleet. The engines on the Lift Shuttle ignited and Pesa was pushed down in her seat; the G-force of the launch was set at the maximum thrust a biological creature could withstand, they were little more than a missile heading for orbit. At twelve seconds into the launch the Lift Shuttle rolled onto it’s back, and then eight minutes later the violent shaking subsided and they were weightless; Lift Shuttles didn’t have Grav-plates. Pesa unbuckled her harness and pushed herself back into the narrow passenger compartment. Seven of the Host had lost consciousness and Pesa slipped an emergency oxygen mask over their heads to help them breathe easier; they would wake soon enough, and with a terrible headache. “Pesa, I can see the Battle Carrier,” says Tonae. “I’m coming,” replies Pesa. “You better come now,” shouts Tonae. “There are too many ships up here, the A.I. is getting confused.” Pesa retakes her seat and flips the auto-pilot off. “I’ve got the controls,” says Pesa, pushing the side-stick down and ducking under a Missile Frigate. “There’s the docking bay.” Pesa rolls the ship around several other Lift Shuttles that have shut down, waiting for their pilots to take over and safely navigate through the mess of ships around the Battle Carrier. “You are seriously good!” says Tonae. “This isn’t much different than flying our Tug around while unloading Pods in a busy Spaceport,” replies Pesa. The Lift Shuttle docks and someone outside opens the door. A Junior Officer sticks his head in the door and looks around. “Academy Host?” asks the Officer. “Yes, Sir,” says Pesa. “I’ll give you assignments, there are Ship Maps at every corridor junction, you’re on your own to find your stations, let’s go,” says the Officer. The first student exits the Lift Shuttle and the Officer reads a tablet he’s holding and taps the student on the shoulder. “Engine room fifteen… go.” The student runs to the map on the wall and searches for his station. The students exit the Shuttle one by one and the Officer gives them their assignments. “Deck six, forward missile room twenty-one…” “Gun Battery forty-three, Deck E…” “Fire Control Room, Deck G…” “Fighter Launch Bay seven…” “Medical Bay, Deck M, Forward…” Pesa is the last to exit the Shuttle. “You’re the Host Leader?” asks the Officer. “Yes, Sir,” replies Pesa. “Bridge, Helm… move it,” orders the Officer. Pesa checks the map and runs off to find the Bridge. I’m going to be on the Bridge, I’ll see everything, I can’t wait to tell Papa… Oh… I’ll probably never see Papa again. This is a Battle Carrier, we’re on the Second Wave; the first Three Waves never survive. I guess that’s okay, my name will be carved on the Red Feather wall outside the Commonwealth Senate building. My name will be read with the other fallen Red Feathers every year on Red Feather Day. The Bridge is nothing less than organized chaos. Pesa looks around trying to figure out where the helm is, an Officer sees her confusion and directs her to the helm station. “Sir, Host Leader Pesa reporting,” Pesa snaps a salute to the Helm Officer. “Take this seat next to me,” says the Officer, tapping a command on the panel in front of Pesa’s seat. “Your job is to memorize this map of the ship. When I send you to the Engine Room with a message, your ability to find the Engine Room no matter how badly damaged the ship is will be key in giving us a few more precious minutes to fight and save Darai.” “Yes, Sir,” says Pesa, sitting down and looking at the map. Wow, I’m at the Helm of a Battle Carrier!