Thinking about it, he really shouldn’t have been surprised. Lady Che-chee’s manor had been similarly filled with books and even ancient tablets from early Cheerick history. The lady was a renowned soldier among the Cheerick but at heart she really seemed to be a scholar.
However, the weird part was that most of them seemed to be in English. He spotted multiple military manuals, biographies and histories of Earth civilizations in the collection as well as some stuff that looked like military fiction.
“Kit,” the colonel said, pointing to a human sized station chair. She picked up a device and squeaked into it for a moment, then held it out and hit a button.
“Welcome to my quarters, Lieutenant Bergstresser. I am gratified that you have been made an officer, even if you are a male. Your prowess in battle is great. It is to be hoped that your sex will not interfere with your thinking. But you humans are different so perhaps you can be wise as well as brave.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Berg said, confused by the device as well as the summons. “May I ask what that is?”
“Hexosehr translator,” the colonel said, speaking directly through the device. “I just got it delivered before we took off. We weren’t sure if the Hexosehr could make it in time. It works for translating Cheerick to English and a couple of other human languages and to Hexosehr and Adar. So, I wanted to ask, how do you like being an officer?”
“I’m starting to regret it, frankly,” Berg said. “I’m spending most of my time pushing paper and the rest trying to catch up on professional studies.”
“It’s always like that as a junior officer,” the colonel said. “But think of it as an investment for your future. The goal is always command, that’s what makes all the necessary bullmaulk necessary. What are you studying?”
“Small unit employment,” Bill said.
“Which manual?” the colonel said. “I’ve been studying your Earth methods and tactics. I find many of them novel and others things that I’ve been proposing for, oh, years! I had most of your military manuals sent to me even as I started to learn to read English. I probably have it here, somewhere.”
“Marine Small Unit Tactics,” Bill said. “FMFM 6-4 Marine Rifle Company/Platoon Operations.”
“Got it,” the colonel said, pulling out a book. “Yes, this one I have read. I believe I understand it rather well and can probably help you. I have more experience in small unit operations than I like to think about.”
“Thank you,” Berg said.
“I need a favor, however,” the colonel admitted. “My riders are simple people, all males, alas. And they are having a hard time understanding space combat.”
“Well, ma’am,” Berg said, uncomfortably, “I’m not sure I understand it all that well.”
“No, but you have more of a grasp of human technology,” the Cheerick replied. “We need to have a way to practice that does not just happen outside the hull.”
“Use your simulator,” Berg said, frowning.
“What is a ‘simulator’?”
“Holy chither,” Berg muttered. “You guys don’t have simulators? A simulator is just that, if that thing’s translating right. It’s a thing that simulates what you do in your job. We Marines have simulators for both Wyvern combat — we actually just climb in our Wyverns for that — and for unarmored combat. We do part of it just on a computer,” Berg added, gesturing at the monitor on the colonel’s desk. “For more of it there’s a small simulator on the ship where we can simulate entry training, for example.”
“We have no such thing,” the colonel said, frowning. “There were none put on this ship that I know of.”
“I’m pretty sure there weren’t,” Berg admitted. “Which was one hell of an oversight, pardon my language.” He thought about it for a second and then grinnned. “But I can think of somebody who could help…”
“Oh, sure,” Miriam said when the problem was put to her. “You guys just follow the icons on your HUD. I can work up an interface for your helmets. Actually, you’re going to have to use the suit; there’s no separate helmet. But it should work just fine.”
“That… sounds as if it would work,” Lady Che-chee said, sighing. “I say that as if I understood what you were saying. I lie. This… this… ‘technology’ is so hard for us to understand! Just the fact that pictures appear is too much like magic! Technology is a sword or even one of the new steam power engines. These I can understand, barely. But computers? Electronics? Heads-up-diplays? These are magic!”
“You get used to it,” Berg promised. “It hit humans pretty fast and hard but we got used to it, too. And then the Adar came along…”
“Just one problem,” Miriam interjected pensively. “The control of the dragonfly is entirely mental. I can’t think of any way to get that to work. I could talk to Doctor Chet and see if he’s gotten anywhere on it, but…”
“I’d already thought of that,” Berg said. “Ever use a flight simulator program?”
“No,” Miriam admitted.
“Well, when you push the stick, you’re thinking where you want the plane to go,” Berg said. “Sometimes, when you don’t understand what you’re doing, you’re just really, really wishing. Especially just before a crash. But the thought is there. I don’t see why it would affect the interaction with the dragonflies. Of course, the guys are going to end up trying to use a stick when they’re flying the dragonflies. But that shouldn’t be a problem. Heck, maybe mount one for them so they have something to hold onto…”
“Are we sure this is going to work?” Colonel Che-chee asked. “Even a Mother must consider face, as you humans would put it.”
The Cheerick pilot ready-room was set up much like any ready-room in history, a series of auditorium-style chairs with a dais at the front, a podium and a massive plasma-screen monitor. The major difference was that the chairs were oversized for a human. They were even oversized for a Cheeirck; they had been designed to take pilots wearing their suits.
“It should work fine,” Miriam said. The colonel was in the front row and the diminutive linguist was up on the dais, punching in the scenario. “Just remember to use the joysticks I installed in your suits. Otherwise the computer doesn’t know where you’re trying to go. I’ve set this up for a very simple movement. We’ll take it nice and slow…”
“…Okay, now that I’ve disconnected the arm controls on the suits for training, this should work perfectly. And I’m sure we can get Crak-chee’s arm reconnected in no-time. I’m not so sure about the damage to the chair…”
Colonel Che-chee was panting inside her suit and the thing was filling with shed. The furry Cheerick shed massively, especially when stressed and she was very stressed. Flying a dragonfly was a matter of thinking where you were going. They had been working hard enough that control of the “joysticks” had become second nature, but she still wished she could simply think the maneuvers. There was also the fact that the Cheerick were not naturally a hunting species. They had derived from omnivores, true, but omnivores that got most of their meat from carrion and very small game. They did not have the natural chase reaction that even humans posessed. And whereas in humans, following an icon with the eyes was so automatic as to be hard-wired, indeed hard to ignore, the Cheerick had to concentrate on it.
But not only was she following the damned dancing karat, she could spare enough time to check her… “monitors” and her riders were staying in perfect sync. They were flying as if they were crack cavalry on boards, which was where she’d drawn them from. Finally, it was coming together.