Children of the White Star

by Linda Thackeray

  “House Terralys,” Aaran replied immediately. “In the history of this country, there was an unprecedented explosion of civilisation. Very contemporary ideas emerged during this period: abolishment of slavery, elected representatives for government, even similar gender sexual relations. These are ideas only now gaining acceptance in the last century of Earth's development.”

  “That doesn't prove anything. Ideas have been submerged before.”

  “True, but these people had an understanding of stars and stellar navigation, but no means by which to prove any of it. We know from our own history during the Exodus, House Terralys also deployed a Worldship and she was destroyed during the journey. What if she wasn't destroyed? What if she crashed onto this planet and was marooned there?”

  “But their technology is so limited,” Edwen protested, even though it made a great deal of sense. “How could that be?”

  “Sir, imagine if you will. You've spent an entire lifetime relying on your machines to do your work. One day, you've awakened on a planet. Your ship is destroyed. You have none of the aids for colonisation you intended. What would you do? Could you honestly say you are capable of sitting down and completely rebuilding a sophisticated tool using your bare hands? How does one smelt iron for the first time? How does one find it without sensors?”

  Yes, Edwen could see it. Technology did have a tendency to render man complacent and weak. Who would need to know how all those things worked, when there were machines doing the work already? Certainly, there were engineers who had the information, but what if they had no resources? “I see what you mean.”

  “Their own histories are littered with signs of Terralys influence. The culture to which I referred? Its word for Earth is Terra.” Aaran's passion for his discovery forced away his previous inhibitions and he was excited at the interest he was getting from the General.

  “Sir, I truly believe this planet is the final resting place of House Terralys, and in so being is a part of the White Star. To think Sir, Brysdyn, Jyne and now Terralys. The White Star is finding its children again.”

  Edwen sighed. This news did not make things any simpler. If anything, it had just become more complicated. It did not matter what the Earth's origins were. Certainly, the rest of the Empire would never know, because Aaran would never be able to tell anyone. Edwen would see to that.

  It was a pity, because he really did like the boy.

  XXII

  The Third Planet

  The Warhammer moved soundlessly through space.

  Its commander, a severe woman approaching her fiftieth year, stood against the plexiglassed view screen. Despite the spectacular vista beyond the glass, she saw nothing. The blue planet twinkled in iridescent splendour and the moon in the distance glowed with silvery light. Over the past three days, during which the Warhammer had maintained a steady orbit around the blue planet, the beauty of the scenery below had become routine to most of the crew, herself especially.

  She kept thinking how indifferent space could be. The planet had changed little since her last visit here decades ago. It wore the years better than she.

  Behind her, the bridge crew went about their business. They were oblivious to everything except their assignments and were perfect examples of the Security Elite. Forcing herself out of her growing melancholy, she turned to face them, envying their ignorance. She wondered what they would have thought it they knew the truth behind their three year assignment around Cathomira. The mission they'd been forced to abandon only recently.

  If only they knew.

  She sighed out loud, knowing this self-examination was not productive. Nothing could be changed now, no repentance large enough to wipe out the deception or the stain on the memories of all those who knew this planet. This planet Earth, she reminded herself. All that remained was to contain the lie and limit the destruction the truth could cause. Soon the Wayward Son would arrive and the Warhammer would destroy her. The integrity of the lie would be maintained and Brysdyn would be safe.

  “Commander Neela,” her first officer spoke, approaching her purposefully. “We have just picked up the Wayward Son on our short range scanner. She is coming up fast into Terran airspace.”

  “Has she detected us yet?”

  “Not that it has been indicated.”

  “We'll take no chances. Bring the ship behind the planet's moon. That should give us a little more cover. Let's get this duty over and done with.”

  “Yes Sir,” he nodded before adding further. “The General was right.”

  Other than herself, only Ristan knew who was on board the Wayward Son. As far as they rest of the crew were concerned, the leader of a terrorist faction was on board the ship. Edwen's fiction of a secret underground faction undermining the core of Brysdynian Imperial sovereignty kept the junior officers satisfied. It would be enough to prevent them from guessing the truth until it was too late.

  “The General is seldom wrong.”

  First Officer Ristan could hardly disagree. All Security Elite officers were trained to believe General Edwen was a god. Those who were unable to grasp the belief were soon buried in a bureaucratic dungeon in the Enclave or discarded from the service altogether. “Our fighter crews are already on standby. Shall we give the order for launch?”

  “Not yet. We don't want to spring the trap too soon. They eluded us once already. I'd rather not give them a second chance. Let them get ahead of us and then we'll launch. I want all squadrons in the air.”

  Rista showed no reaction to the instructions, because he knew the importance of what was taking place here. If the crew knew the passenger manifest on the Wayward Son, Security Elite or not, there would be mutiny. Not to mention the ramifications if the ship were actually allowed to land on Earth. Some of her crew were New Citizens.

  “Yes, Sir.” He strode away to carry out the order. Neela watched him go and felt grateful he at least understood their situation.

  The rest of the crew were in high spirits of the destruction of Cathomira. With its sun gone nova, there was no longer any reason to protect the star system from trespassers. She did not doubt that some of her officers harboured ambitions that Warhammer's next tour of duty would be more glamorous.

  Neela had no such hopes. She was nowhere near retirement age, but she no longer wished to command the Warhammer. In her recent discussions with the General, Neela had requested a new assignment on the home planet and, if such a position was unavailable, would be content to leave the Elite altogether. There would be enough blood on her hands after this day. She did not want the rest of her career, if it meant staining them even more.

  The murder of a Prime was a lifetime's worth.

  * * *

  Once Erebo Station conducted repairs on the Wayward Son, the ship departed quickly. Neither Garryn nor Flinn wanted to remain there. After their encounter with the warship, Garryn was convinced if they remained at the station long enough Edwen would find them. Flinn, on the other hand, simply felt uncomfortable receiving the hospitality of the Brysdynian Empire. He was too much of a loner skirting the wrong side of the law to be comfortable around so many soldiers.

  Once they'd left, Garryn decided to begin the search for a habitable world with a yellow sun. He remembered Theran had one such world and it couldn't be a coincidence the dreams started when he was in this system. Besides, after confirming the official record of Cathomira being habitable was an outright lie, Garryn wondered if the same could be said about the third planet of Theran being a nuclear wasteland.

  The trip took only a matter of hours and Garryn questioned why he never made the journey during his military service. There was a general caution warning travellers away from Theran 3 due to the nuclear destruction wrought by its inhabitants. It was a common tale. Usually the make-or-break of any civilisation was their ability to manage their weapons of mass-destruction. Overcoming the desire to use such weapons to reach a peaceful solution was usually the first step to more enlightened thinking.

  Unfortunatel
y, Theran 3 did not make that leap.

  “There she is.”

  At Flinn's announcement, Garryn saw for the first time the third planet of Theran.

  At first, he could only see the outline of the planet, the rays of the distant yellow sun bouncing off the horizon. His breath caught at the tinge of blue against the amber and he made out the wispy tufts of cloud cover of brilliant white. Next to the blue world, a smaller body orbited like an infant lagging behind its parent. The moon's silvery light was a stark contrast to the warm heat of the sun.

  “It's real,” Garryn whispered as the planet and its moon came into full view. “It's really there. That's the world I saw in my dreams.”

  “Are you sure?” Flinn shot him a look, finding it hard to believe they were lucky first time out.

  “It's exactly the same as in Jonen's crystal. A blue planet with a single moon.”

  Seeing it there before him, filling his world with its resplendent beauty, was like cool water being poured on the spinning thoughts in his head. Garryn took it all in, the swirling white clouds against the brilliant blue oceans and deep green continents. It resembled a jewelled orb suspended against a blanket of glitter. Finally, he had proof everything he was dreaming wasn't just some fantasy. This planet existed and, if this existed, then so had everything else in his dreams.

  A shrill sound tore through the cockpit and shattered the peace that was settling over his mind.

  Garryn snapped to attention, his eyes darting towards the readings on the communications panel of the cockpit controls. The ship was reacting to the emergency signal that had forced its way into the ship's communication frequencies. Garryn recognised the type.

  “It's a slicer signal,” Garryn declared, recognising it from his military service. “We use these to carry transmissions from warning buoys.”

  “Warning buoys?” Flinn shot him a look, scanning for signs of any other ship. He saw none, though he pinpointed the origins of the transmission. It was being generated from orbiting satellites in a geosynchronous trajectory. A visual image of one appeared in the holographic viewer.

  Garryn recognised it. “It's a Brysdynian quarantine buoy. It's harmless.”

  The devices were mostly placed around planets that had suffered serious environmental damage, where it would be dangerous for off-worlders to attempt a landing. Though mostly used for planetary disasters, it also warded off potential visitors from biological diseases or, in this case, nuclear or similar radioactive devastation.

  “It's probably the standard warning to keep away from the planet because of radiation levels. The locals got into a turf war using nuclear weapons.”

  “Nice way to keep visitors away,” Flinn remarked, and then added, “if it's true.”

  “Yeah, if it's true.” After Cathomira, he took nothing for granted. “Just in case, though, I hope you have radiation suits in this ship.”

  The Wayward Son zoomed past the moon quickly, allowing Garryn a closer look at it as they moved towards the blue planet. They did not see any of the warning buoys, although Garryn did not doubt they were orbiting the planet somewhere in the darkness beyond the ship. The moon was as Garryn expected as well. The thin atmosphere had left it incapable of habitation, unless sophisticated technology was available.

  “It's a pretty planet,” Flinn commented as they approached it.

  Garryn had to agree. The holo disks did it little justice. A tiny voice started echoing in his head, softly at first, but growing louder as they drew closer.

  Welcome home.

  The homecoming was abruptly interrupted as Flinn's excited cry invaded his thoughts again.

  “We're in trouble!”

  Garryn turned away from the planet and followed Flinn's gaze, now firmly fixed on the scanner. His expression was grim. A swarm of holographic small attack fighters corresponding with the real life view appeared before them. They emerged from behind the moon, on apparent intercept course after waiting for the Wayward Son to pass by them.

  “I can count three squadrons,” Flinn said grimly.

  “There has to be a warship around here. Those are short range fighters. If I'm right, we're up against four squadrons, most likely the entire complement of a warship.”

  Garryn did not need to see the sensors to know that, behind the planet's moon, a Brysdynian warship was waiting for them. Probably the same warship that had attacked them at Cathomira.

  “Nice,” Flinn muttered, barely listening as he turned his attention to getting himself and his ship out of this situation. His fingers flew over the ship controls, firing thrusters to send the ship surging ahead. The burst of acceleration took them towards the planet even faster.

  “They're fanning out.” Garryn watched the flight patterns taken by the fighters and quickly assessed their attack plan. He'd been a fighter pilot once and recognised the strategy. “They're trying to drive us into the moon.”

  “I know,” Flinn agreed. “If we don't do something about it, we're going to fly straight into it and it's not going to be a soft landing.”

  Without further prompting, he jumped out of the chair and returned to the gunnery turret. Climbing into the cubicle, he fastened himself into place before the controls of the massive guns. The starboard side of the Wayward Son jerk violently to one side before he could even lay his hands on the controls. His head smacked against the cushioned headrest of his seat as he fumbled for the headset attached to the side of the control panel.

  Slipping the device over his ears, he saw a flurry of shapes zoom past him through the windows. Although in space the vacuum made it impossible to hear them, the Wayward Son shuddered in the wake of their passing. The hull vibrated loudly as powerful engines moved past it in large numbers.

  “I'm all set,” he announced into the head set after the brief pause.

  “Alright, I'm going to get us out of here if it's still possible. Anything gets in our way, shoot it down. You think you can keep up with me?”

  “You just do the flying,” Garryn shot back.

  The Wayward Son continued towards the planet at top speed, still managing to keep ahead of the fighters. This could not last for long, Garryn thought. The angle of descent into the planet was all wrong. It was coming in too steep. At this vector, the ship would bounce right out of the atmosphere, if it didn't overload the engines or burn up in the ozone.

  As a trio of fighters converged on them, Garryn fired, unleashing a barrage striking one of the ships while scattering the others. They broke off at a tangent, trying to keep formation before regrouping to continue their pursuit. One of the ships lagged behind the others with obvious scorching on its hull.

  In the meantime, Flinn continued towards the planet. The squadron of ships flew around the Wayward Son like mites attacking a large beast. There were so many fighters in the air, making it difficult to manoeuvre. He knew the tactic and felt a wave of anger at being penned like some stray animal.

  As the blue planet rapidly expanded in his cockpit window, Flinn put more power into his acceleration. Across the cockpit console, various emergency lights and warnings were flashing in protest. He did notice one thing about their strategy: they were determined to keep the Wayward Son from landing on Theran 3. Gambling on their determination to keep his ship from getting there, Flinn flew his ship at full throttle. He wanted them to alter their blockage strategy and give him an opening he could use to his advantage.

  A trio of ships swooped past him, flying across his bow to disrupt his forward trajectory. Flinn ignored them, manoeuvring hazardously past them. Hull temperature jumped up another fifty degrees and the ship was starting to superheat. A dozen ships were in pursuit now, firing at him and doing everything possible to keep the Wayward Son from entering the planet's airspace.

  “Flinn, what are you doing?” Garryn demanded over the headset. “Pull up! You're coming in too fast!”

  “I know what I'm doing!” Flinn barked, not accustomed to having his actions questioned on his own ship. “You just keep t
hem off our backs.”

  Just a little more, baby. Just a little more.

  He could start to feel the heat inside the cockpit now. The illumination from the planet lit up the cockpit until it felt like daylight inside the ship. Ignoring his instrumentation, Flinn diverted power to the front shields and adjusted his vector just a few degrees. Once done, he released the plasma valves, allowing it through the engines and fired his ship's boosters.

  The sudden burst of power threw the ship forward in an explosion of light just as the hull began to glow with crimson heat. As expected, the fighters did the same, accelerating to keep up. Beads of sweat ran down his brow as the temperature rose steadily inside the cockpit. Finally when they reached the point where the dark canvas of space started to diminish, Flinn pulled up the control throttle.

  In the gunnery turret, Garryn was slammed back in this chair as he saw the world banking hard in a neat arc. There was an instance of disorientation with space, ships and the beautiful blue world spinning in perfect disarray where Garryn thought he saw multiple explosions erupting in quick succession. Then as suddenly as it began, the Wayward Son started climbing away from the planet back towards the stratosphere.

  The ships that had been in pursuit were no longer there. Garryn realised Flinn had pulled up just before he entered the atmosphere and bounced right back off it into space. The fighters in pursuit, unprepared to escape the gravitational pull of the planet, were unable to compensate, resulting in their ships tearing apart.

  “You're a crazy bastard!”

  “Yeah, my mother used to say that all the time. We're not out of this yet though. Pick up your forward scanner.”

  Garryn glanced at small digital screen next to the gunnery controls. The image of the moon almost eclipsed the entire display, but what Flinn wanted him to see was painfully obvious.

  Sliding almost languorously from the dark side of the moon, the Brysdynian warship Warhammer emerged from its hiding place and accelerated into intercept position.