The Danners took a few more minutes to ensure they wouldn’t make fools of themselves.
The bridge wasn’t too difficult to find as the transport had a simple, axial design. The Aegisi foragers stepped gingerly into the nerve center and were greeted with a sight that made the hardships of drift travel seem worthwhile.
Through the cockpit the Aegisi warship Dilettante could be seen in high orbit over a creamy blue world.
“Cerulean,” Michael said in amazement. “How long were we in stasis for?”
“Three Solitudinal day cycles, four night cycles,” Captain Tilder said by the nav console. “Aegisi drift technology is catching up with the rest of the galaxy.”
Michael lost himself in the spiral clouds of the blue planet, wondering if they’d get a chance to set down on its surface. The huge, alien face was intimidating simply because it was so unfamiliar.
“Dilettante,” said one of Tilder’s navigators. “Confirm approach run.”
“War Hangar,” Captain Tilder said with a half smile. “You foragers might get to see something after all.”
7
Michael didn’t care much for the Captain’s tone, but he was intrigued by this hangar nonetheless. He didn’t know where to look as the transport neared the huge warship. There was so many startling features.
The Dilettante, like all Aegis warships, was shaped like a flat teardrop. The “thick” end was the fore deck, the “thin” end was the aft propulsion section. The sleek chrome design made the vessel look like a predatory quicksilver shark, hunting deep space for prey. Considering the Aegisi fondness for water, the design made symbolic as well as functional sense.
The transport passed by the thick fore deck - Michael counted more than ten levels of bustling activity. There were rec rooms, observation decks, hundreds of honeycombed habs, meeting rooms, refectories and, finally, the tiered bridge itself.
The huge hangars were located mid-ship. Five of them in total, two up top, three underneath. The transport eased itself toward the lower right hangar bay. Michael gaped at the towering blast cannons to either side of the entrance. The Dilettante would also have shields, but they didn’t seem to be active at that moment.
The transport touched down some three hundred yards into the hangar. Through the cockpit Michael could see a fleet of long, cylindrical vessels with flak guns mounted on the sides.
“Personnel carriers,” Tilder said, following his gaze. “And behind them…”
Michael saw it. A vessel that crouched like a tiger. Supported by three elegant struts, it had a thin body, a high cockpit and two murderous-looking missile banks on either shoulder.
“Sentinel,” Tilder said with pride. “Prototype. This’ll be our first recon unit on Cerulean.”
“Expecting trouble?” Michael asked, mesmerized by the sheer menace the fighting vessel radiated.
Tilder chuckled. “You can never be sure,” he said. “The Cava05 are as slippery as hell.”
“That’s good to know,” Emilia said absently. Unsurprisingly, her mind seemed to be on other things. Like her impending meeting with the alien negotiator.
The Danner siblings were escorted off the transport and across the hangar. There were several meeting rooms in the aft wall that overlooked the enormous space.
“Strategy rooms,” Tilder said. “You’ll both be exposed to sensitive information over the next forty-eight hours.”
There was a note of warning in the Captain’s voice. Michael looked at Emilia, who made a face. He grinned in approval - it was a good idea not to get too overwhelmed by all of this.
“You must be hungry,” Major Shaw said, ushering the siblings into a drop shaft. The platform whisked them deep into the bowels of the warship and deposited them into a brightly-lit refectory. Off-duty soldiers sat in groups, eating, laughing, swearing.
Michael realized he was famished. Forgetting his escort, he made a beeline for the food line and was greeted with a mouth-watering array of smells. Silently willing the queue to move faster, he loaded his plate with roast beef, roast potatoes and seasonal greens.
He’d always been partial to carb-heavy fare, perhaps because it was so rare on Solitude. But then, warships like the Dilettante probably had access to neutral trading centers, who in turn had access to biomass moons. The lowliest grunt probably ate better on this warship than a highly-paid official on Solitude. Michael savored every mouthful, relishing the thick, brown gravy he’d piled on top.
Emilia had selected a slightly more decorous pile of food and sat alongside Michael. Tilder and Shaw seemed content to mix with their colleagues.
The siblings ate in silence for several minutes, simply enjoying the act of eating.
“Nervous?” Michael eventually asked.
Emilia met his gaze, but only for a moment. “Not too much,” she said. “Ask me again after I’ve met the Cavan negotiator.”
Michael nodded. The alien become more fearsome in his mind every time he thought about him.
Thankfully, the siblings didn’t have long to wait for more information. Tilder and Shaw took them up to one of the strategy rooms that overlooked the hangar. Michael slid into a comfortable chair next to Emilia. A tech assistant was on standby, ready to activate the lightsphere built into the center of the table. Tilder gave the man a nod and shared a strange glance with Shaw. Michael got the impression they were about to watch something of extreme importance.
An alien head materialized above the table. It was unlike anything Michael had seen before, not even from his Instruction classes on minor and subjugated races. The creature had beige, papery skin and large, scarlet eyes. Only the head could be seen, but Michael was almost certain the thing wasn’t humanoid in shape.
Michael could barely keep his pulse in check as the alien’s chilling visage faded.
Emilia looked at Tilder questioningly.
“Yes,” said the Captain. “Sonor Tavlo, one of the greatest military minds of the Aegisi Republic, was killed in his home seven days ago.”
Michael blinked. No wonder the Round Table had been acting so strangely. A previously unknown alien race had challenged the entire galaxy to go to war! And yet none of that had anything to do with Emilia’s role as negotiator for the planet Cerulean.
“The Cava05 haven’t declared war on the Aegisi,” Michael commented.
“Not yet,” Tilder agreed. “At this early stage I believe all four races are circling each other warily.”
“But why would the Cava05 offer to trade fairly for Cerulean?” Michael asked. “Surely it’s in their best interests to keep the planet for themselves?”
Shaw looked at Tilder, who nodded. “Not necessarily,” she said. “The Cava05 may have no use for their desalination plants during wartime. Plus, maintaining a garrison here stretches their supply lines. If they can get a good price for the real estate we believe they
’re prepared to part with Cerulean.”
Michael nodded slowly, feeling like he was wading into a murky pool, not knowing what lay beneath.
“What’s the Aegisi position?” Emilia asked suddenly. “I mean, beyond acquiring a second home?”
Tilder pursed his lips. “Cerulean could be beneficial for us,” he eventually said. “Given enough time, we can turn it into an Aegisi stronghold.”
“We only have a year,” Emilia pointed out. “What makes the Round Table so sure we aren’t spreading our own supply lines too far?”
“The Aegisi are weak,” Tilder said with a trace of irritation. “We can’t compete with the Cava05 or the Jaj for military strength. Our best shot lies in drawing the enemy to us. To fight on our favored terrain. We’re the only amphibious species of the four. We need to use that to our advantage.”
And there it was. Emilia was shaking her head, but Michael could see the logic in what Tilder was saying. The Aegisi would need to impose some kind of mandatory military service on its people, but it was entirely possible that the Cerulean garrison be up and running within months.
“The Cava05 know we’re desperate,” Michael said. “They’ll try and squeeze us.”
“Which is where Emilia comes in,” Shaw said with a intense look at the female forager. “Every credit saved can be folded back into military spending.”
“This is just a game,” Emilia said darkly. “A big, violent, wasteful game. What happens to those defeated by the most powerful species?”
Tilder shrugged in soldierly fashion. “Lost to the sands of time, I guess. You heard Norgaardi - there’ll only be room for one species at the adult table. The rest will probably become subjugate savages.”
“And you take ‘Norgaardi’ at his word?” asked Emilia with a trace of impatience. “This is more likely to be an elaborate hoax.”
Michael suppressed a smile, impressed that his sister had the guts to question Tilder. “The Round Table have explored every possibility,” Tilder said through clenched teeth. “The technology, the speech, the executions, the alien itself - none of it has been doctored.”
“If that message was legitimate,” Emilia said, “we’re dealing with a species that proves a point by assassinating others. Why should we rush to impress them?”
There was a red tinge to Emilia’s cheeks - Michael knew that look well. It took a lot to get her angry, but the early signs were there.
“Because we’re dead if we don’t,” Tilder said harshly before collecting himself. “The Cava05 are already halfway across the galaxy. If you were running a tote on the likely winner in all of this, the Cava05 would be odds-on favorites. We need to play the game or we’ll be extinct within a year.”
Emilia pursed her lips. Michael had to admit there was no point in arguing the merits of the coming war. Tilder was right - it didn’t matter what people thought of this mysterious alien race. It was a near certainty that the Cava05 would take on the challenge that had been laid down. They were the only race in a position to take immediate advantage of the situation.
“Is there any chance of an alliance?” Michael asked. “With the Jaj maybe?”
“The Jaj are far more concerned with domestic politics,” Shaw said quickly. “No one has successfully allied with the Jaj for centuries.”
“Then it seems the Cava05 will roll on until someone is able to stop them,” Michael mused.
“Or lure them into a trap,” Captain Tilder said with finality.
Which brought everyone back to the concept of Cerulean. And the critical importance of an ocean planet to the Aegisi.
“Perhaps we should move on to our mission,” Major Shaw suggested.
Emilia seemed to rouse herself. “Yes, let’s do that.”
Tilder nodded to the tech assistant and a global projection of Cerulean materialized. A blinking dot appeared just south of the equator.
“The largest Cavan desal plant,” Tilder said. The heat is extreme here and so are the critters. Bowhead whales have been causing all kinds of headaches for the Cava05 lately.”
“Bowheads?” Michael repeated. “Where have I heard that before?”
“They can be found on several planets,” Shaw said. “The much smaller variety, that is. The Cerulean species are seriously big - maybe a hundred yards in length. They’re aggressive but normally smart enough to stay away from the Cava05. That desal plant must be too close to a spawning ground.”
Michael looked at the tough, no-nonsense brunette with open admiration.
“Did Zoology for Minor Instruction,” she said, catching Tilder’s look. “But I digress.”
“The Cava05 have assured us that all workers and civilian personnel have been evacuated from the facility. We intend to use it as our initial staging post. The site can cope with medium-class vessels no problem. If all goes to plan we should be landing corsairs within twenty-four hours.”
Michael took a moment to absorb the blizzard of information.
“We’re meeting the Cava05 down there?” Emilia asked.
“Affirmative,” Tilder said crisply. “I believe they’re keen to close the deal.”
“By making us sweat in an unfamiliar environment,” Emilia observed.
Major Shaw chuckled and patted Emilia on the shoulder. “The Round Table is right - you should have been allocated to the diplomatic corps.”
The compliment seemed to have zero impact on Emilia. Instead, she seemed deeply concerned about the situation.
“I still don’t know why I’m here,” she said. “To be honest, this whole thing seems wrong.”
“None of us fully understand the political forces at play,” Tilder said quickly. “All we can do is follow orders and make sure we all return safely.”
Michael nodded in agreement, looking to Emilia hopefully. After a tense second she looked away with a sigh.
“Let’s get this done,” the Captain said.
8
General Shannon, the commanding officer on the Dilettante, stepped onto the hangar floor to wish Emilia all the best. Michael was thrilled when the charismatic, silver-haired General shook his hand too, but in truth the man’s attention was firmly on his sister.
“Traveling here at such short notice is no small thing,” said the General smoothly. “I don’t know about those tricky Councilors, but in the Aegisi Blue such commitment is respected. You’ll always have a bunk on this ship, Miss Danner.”
“I appreciate that, General,” Emilia said graciously. “I’d be happy to do that just for the food.”
The General smiled, delighted at the response, before his handlers ushered him from the floor so he could watch from one of the obs decks.
Michael expected to be waved over to the orbital transport, but Tilder and Shaw were heading toward the gleaming sentinel. The forager felt a tingle run down his spine. Emilia nudged him gently, her eyes laughing gently at his boyish awe.
“At least we get to travel in style,” he said sheepishly.
The sentinel had a drop shaft that ran the vertical spine of the craft. The siblings were whisked inside without fanfare. Two levels flashed by in a blur before they were deposited into the cockpit. A pair of navigators waited for them at the dashboard. With a surge of excitement Michael realized they were wearing the sleek amphibious armor of the corsair. Elite Aegisi marines. With a start Michael remembered his breastplate prototype.
“I’ll be back,” he declared, haring off to the drop shaft. He rushed across the hangar floor, terrified that the sentinel would take off without him. He would never forgive himself if he lost his sister now.
The orbital transport was quiet save for a pair of fuel engineers. Michael retrieved his precious prototype and rushed from the vessel.
Tilder glowered at the forager on his return. The soldier watched as Michael stowed the armor in a gear locker set back into the rear wall of the bridge.
“Interesting baggage, Danner,” he said softly.
“I’d like to talk to you after the missio
n is over, Captain,” Michael said enthusiastically, chuffed to have Tilder’s attention.
“We’ll see,” said the soldier noncommittally, strapping himself into a chair behind the bridge rail. Major Shaw and the Danners sank into the other chairs. The elite pilots fired the propulsion bulb. The sentinel surged into the air, stopped short of the adjacent transport, swerved out of harm’s way and accelerated through the hangar.
Once Michael had found his breath again he whooped with delight. Tilder grimaced but Michael didn’t care. The sheer power in this beast of a vessel thrummed through his bones. The thing was an offensive juggernaut. It didn’t gather speed so much as lurch like an angry bee. The sentinel growled through the hangar bay and immediately punched a course for the serene blue planet sitting beneath the warship.
“What’s the weather doing, navigator?” Tilder asked.
“Clear, sir,” the left nav said. “High pressure systems been squatting on the equator for days.”
“Hope they hold,” the Captain muttered darkly to Major Shaw.
Michael guessed that tropical storms were a threat on Cerulean. He watched in rapt attention as the navigators eased the sentinel into a safe, shallow orbital entry, scudding across the upper mesosphere a couple of times before dipping into the “soup”.
The vessel shook from the inertia of atmospheric transition. Michael rocked in his shock-absorbent chair but kept his eyes glued to the sublime piloting on display. The sentinel dived gracefully through several banks of clinging cloud, its growling propulsion easing off to let gravity do the hard work. Before long the ship was leveling out around a mile above a glittering aquamarine seascape.
Ginfordia, a white dwarf, was riding the shoulder of afternoon as the sentinel zeroed in on their destination.
At first the hulking desalination plant was just a speck on the horizon.
“Magnify,” Tilder said sharply, seeing something he didn’t like.
A light projection squirted from the dashboard. It showed the desal plant rising from the shimmering ocean like an industrial mirage. What concerned the Aegisi soldiers were the two hulking tower mechs to either side of the plant.
The Blue Corsair (Five Empires Book 1) Page 5
