Despite the rebreather mask, I could smell the strong cinnamon fragrance. But also, a hint of berry and sea salt crept in and my guy twisted. I leaned against the wall of the tunnel. The Elder placed an arm around my waist and helped me through the gate.
My head ached and I had a hard time focusing. The aromas swirled in my nose and I almost vomited in the face mask. Maredudd assisted me through the Druid inner sanctum and across the bridge until we were in the presence of the Red Heart Plant.
With my eyes half closed, I watched as the Troop reached out and impelled his hand on the Heart Plant’s thorns. He stood swaying as if in a trance as drops of his blood dripped into the water and nutrient mix around the plant’s roots.
I don’t know how long the Troop stood there as I was bent over and in pain. Finally, the Troop and I were led out of the Heart Plant’s domain, through the Druid’s home, and back to the atrium.
“You alright, Sir,” Fire Dove asked.
“Rough trip,” I said, “Thankfully a short trip.”
“It’s been two days, J-Pop,” he replied, “You and the Troop were in there for two days.”
“Did I miss anything?” I inquired as I walked to a rebreather charging station.
After switching units, I inhaled and my head began to clear.
“The Troops are hungry and getting restless,” he explained, “General Tuulia has them in check for the time being. But, I don’t know for how long. Hungry people will do anything for food.”
“And we have another five days’ travel to planet Dos,” I said, “We’d better double the guard.”
“Alert,” he responded.
Two hours later, I was standing on the catwalk looking down on the Troop holding area. They seemed calm and maybe a little thinner. It wasn’t a good sign. At some point, they’d riot, and we’d have to butcher them.
Four Druids appeared from the hatch at the rear of the dock. They passed the guards, and took the five steps down to the deck. From there, they made for the holding area.
A ripple of anticipation charged through the Marines around me.
“Steady, the Druids can handle themselves,” I said.
I noticed each Druid carried two sacks. At the Troop area, they cleared an unclaimed sleeping platform of gear, and set the sacks on the raised surface.
Behind me, the catwalk hatch opened. Maredudd strolled over and stood beside me looking down at the holding area.
“The Heart Plant gifts fruit,” he said without facing me.
I looked at the hood and his profile for a few seconds. There was no expression on the Druid Elder’s face. The Heart Plant had produced food for the Troops and, with that, saved their lives. Below us, the Troops were sniffing the fruit. Finally, one was bullied into taking a bite.
The Heart Plant had produced what the Troops needed. Just as the original plant had produced air for Jasmin Oriane, the Geologist on the first expedition to planet Dos. Now one had provided food for the Troops. I always believed the plant was useful to us. I was beginning to wonder if it made itself useful by suppling what we needed.
“I am pleased,” I said as I watched the Troop smile, snag another, and rush back to his area.
The others took his lead, and they all selected a few pieces of the food.
“Knight Protector of the Clan,” the Druid said, “You need the home world.”
“Do you mean; I’m needed on planet Uno?” I asked hoping for once to get a complete set of details from a Druid.
“You need the home world,” was his reply before he walked away.
We were two days from Planet Dos when Lieke Steyn and an odd mix of companions docked. They were all dressed in duty uniforms but non displayed any rank insignias. Three were heavily muscular, not to Stone Angels’ mass, but big people and, four were regular size and clearly not in shape. I figured the latter were the scientists and the others were for the heavy lifting.
They slapped on rebreathers, set up tables on the dock, and attempted to call the Troops over. The Constabulary pilots ignored them.
“Do they speak Realm?” Steyn asked as I walked towards him.
“Yes, but they won’t respond to you or your team,” I advised him.
“What will they respond to?” he inquired.
“Eos,” I replied.
“The Goddess of Dawn?” he asked with a puzzled expression crinkling up his face.
“Close enough but it’s Eye of the Strom,” I said teasing him, “She’ll be along shortly.”
A half hour later, a Marine Fire Team rushed into position on the dock. Behind them, General Tuulia and her armed escort marched through the hatch.
“Attention on deck,” I shouted so Lieke Steyn and his team could hear. Loud enough so the Marine Fire Team, the guards on the overhead walkway, and the Troops could hear.
Everyone snapped to attention except for one person. One of Lieke Steyn’s team, a big one, stood relaxed with a grin on his face. The Troops were watching him. I was watching him.
“Sergeant,” I said softly.
Tuulia’s Marine guard stepped forward quickly. As she stepped, the butt end of her rifle came around and smacked the big man in his temple. He crumpled to the dock.
“You and you,” the Sergeant spoke to the other two big men from Steyn’s team, “Get him out of General Tuulia’s sight.”
I watched the Troop prisoners. Tiny head nods showed me their approval of the handling of the disrespectful man.
The two big men studied the Marine. For a second, I thought they’d challenge the Sergeant. Then, I heard the sound of a round being chambered into the big machine gun. The men glanced upwards and towards the sound. They were treated to the sight of the big barrel aimed directly at them.
“Gentlemen, remove your compatriot,” I whispered.
They grabbed the downed man’s arms and dragged him off the dock.
“General Tuulia, I’d like my team to question and take blood samples from your prisoners,” Lieke Steyn asked respectfully, “With your permission, Ma’am?”
“I will allow it. But, with a provision,” she replied loudly for the benefit of the Troops, “No one will be harmed.”
“You have my word, General.”
Twenty hours later, I was sitting in the mess hall. Steyn wandered in and sat across from me. He grinned as I lifted the rebreather mask, snuck in a piece of food, and replaced the mask before chewing.
“That seems inconvenient,” he noted.
I held up a hand to have him wait while I finished chewing and swallowed.
“It is,” I replied, “Did you learn anything?”
“All of the Constabulary Troops fall into three designations,” he replied, “Hervé for Battle Worthy, Brenda for Sword and, Vojtech for Warrior. Not surprising as most are combat pilots and the other four are gunners. However, between the seventeen prisoners, there are only five sur names; Madoc, Sorcha, Tevin, Erwan and Nesta.”
“I imagine there are a lot of 5ths, 6ths and 7ths, in the names,” I said tilting the mask for another bit.
“What my team figures, even given the small sample size,” he said, “is the number of sires, or Travelers, who fathered their lines is limited. If you sampled the pilots on this BattleShip, you’d find few sur name duplications. With the Troops, too many have the same name. I’ve concluded the Empress lost a lot of her people on the voyage.”
“And in the landing and wars when she arrived at their world,” I said remembering the prayer book I found.
“But we did settle one item of contention,” he continued, “Their next target is Construction station. Naval Command has been advised.”
“Why did they attack Planet Dos?” I asked as I swallowed.
“That was a mixture of revenge against the Ander El Aitor,” he related, “and targets of opportunity. When they received word the Monserrat de la Astolfo was also docked at the Orbital station, their command decided to kill two warships with one strike.”
“Received word?” I questioned
the phrase from his statement.
“Seems there are Empress sympathizers on Orbital station,” he replied.
“Correction, Stone Angel,” I stated using his Call Sign, “There are a lot of sympathizers in the Galactic Council Realm.”
“Alert, J-Pop,” he said.
Chapter 48
The Ander El Aitor docked at Orbital Station and I went to the Bridge to see Haitham.
“Admiral, I am requesting to be relieved of my duties,” I stated, “Per Admiral Folkert, I’m ordered to transit to Striker Command.”
“You’ve done a good job for me, J-Pop,” Haitham said and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to join the deep space Navy?”
He couldn’t see my smile but he understood when I pointed to the rebreather mask and the noise suppressors over my ears.
“Well, there is your incompatibility with our Heart Plant,” he said, “Lieutenant Piran, you are relieved. Safe travels.”
“Is Rear Admiral Tuulia around, Sir?” I asked, “I’d like to say goodbye.”
“Oh you mean Eos, the infamous General Tuulia?” he teased, “She’s on Dos settling in her Troops. Command Station has detached her from me and assigned her as commanding general of the Troop Compound.”
“Commanding General?” I repeated in shock, “I only made her a General to appease the Constabulary Troops.”
“I know that, she knows it, and you know it, but Command ordered it,” he said, “Now, I have to figure out how to transport fourteen Constabulary ships to the surface of planet Dos. So, J-Pop, get off my Bridge.”
“Aye, Captain,” I said pivoting and marching off his Bridge.
I met Fire Dove at the Deep Space GunShip.
“Sergeant Uxue, are we picking up Heavy Rain from Orbital Station?” I asked the Striker.
“No, Sir. I sent him a message and he replied with one word; Immobilized.”
“Is that a medical diagnosis?” I asked, “Or a matter of a cute nurse.”
“Does it matter, Sir?” he asked.
“No,” I replied, “Strap in, let’s head home.”
I closed the hatches and ran up the air handling to clear all traces of the atmosphere from the Ander El Aitor. It cleared before Flight Control directed me to a launch tube. The noise suppressor was dropped into a cabinet and the rebreather was placed in a recharging station. It was good to be free of the equipment.
“Navy vessel 48,” a voice called, “Proceed to launch tube 7.”
“Control, GCN 48, moving to launch tube 7,” I replied as the DS moved through the first air curtain.
“J-Pop, safe travels,” Wind Chime called.
“And to you,” I replied as the GunShip slid to the next air curtain.
I applied power and the DS lifted from the sled.
“48, you are cleared for launch,” Control informed me.
“Galactic Council Navy 48, is entering the flight pattern,” I said slamming power to the Internal ion drive.
I worked out a course with only three doglegs. Weeks later, the DS evolved and I radioed the Tres el Fuerte. Fire Dove and I had worked on our after action reports during the trip. We were looking forward to stretching our legs and sitting down to a meal of fresh food.
“Flight Control, GCN 48 requesting intake instructions,” I announced to the Heavy Cruiser’s controller.
“48, you are cleared for tube 3,” the voice from Flight Control replied, “I have two messages for you, 48. First message is from Admiral Folkert; It’s about time you brought my GunShip back. Second message is from Captain Wahid; he wants to know what you did to his Strikers. Any reply?”
“Please inform Striker Command I am transmitting my full report,” I advised Flight Control.
“We’ll be in debrief for days,” Fire Dove complained. He was leaning into the cockpit and watching the Cruiser as we approached.
“Agreed, but I’m not talking to anyone until I get to medical and clear the spores,” I told him as the memory of the uncomfortable gear sent a shiver down my spine, “Another day in the mask and ear muffs and I’ll go crazy.”
“Lieutenant Piran, I’ve been sailing with you for months now,” Fire Dove said, “And in my medical opinion, you’re already crazy, Sir.”
We entered the recovery tube, I reduced power and the DS settled onto a sled. As we were towed through the last air curtain, we noticed crews rushing to prepare Shuttles and three new Deep Space GunShips.
“What’s up, Sir?” Fire Dove asked as he peered out the view port at the bedlam.
“I don’t know but it looks as if Striker Command is mobilizing,” I commented, “Maybe we won’t be here that long.”
The DS stopped and a ladder was wheeled to the port side hatch. I popped both hatches, reached into the cabinet and pulled out the irritating ear muffs. Then, I pulled a charged rebreather from the station.
“I’m heading for medical,” I said as I fit the gear in place.
“Aye, Sir, I’ll inform Admiral Folkert and Captain Wahid of your situation,” he said reaching out and flicking one of the noise suppressors. It made a ringing sound in my ear.
“Ouch, what was that for?” I asked.
“Medical field test. I can now declare you a medical emergency by virtue of my position as team medic,” he said, “Not even an angry Admiral can stop you from reaching the Medical Deck.”
“What angry Admiral?” I asked.
He directed my attention to the open hatch. On the deck and striding purposefully towards the DS was Admiral Folkert and a stern looking Captain Wahid. Neither man seemed intent on throwing us a welcome home party.
“Shall we,” I said stepping to the hatch and motioning the Striker to follow.
We descended the ladder and stood at attention as the senior officers reached us.
“Lieutenant Phelan Oscar Piran and Sergeant Iñaki Uxue,” I said as the officers arrived at the DS, “Reporting in.”
“Fire Dove grab your gear,” Wahid, the head trainer of the Strikers, ordered, “You’re on the next Shuttle out.”
“But, Sir, he’s just come off a mission,” I said defending the Striker, “A little downtime is in order.”
“Not to worry Lieutenant,” the Captain replied, “Fire Dove is going to planet Dos. He’s been assigned to Striker Training Command.”
“What about me, Sir?” I asked.
“You’re on that Shuttle over there,” the Admiral replied.
My eyes followed his out stretched arm. In the distance on the far side of the deck, out of the way of the preparations, two Druids stood stoically by another Shuttle.
“Aye, Sir. What’s going on?” I asked glancing around at the busy deck.
“Striker Command had been activated,” Admiral Folkert stated, “Intelligent Inquiries Agency has developed intel about the Constabulary’s next target. We’re being mobilized to defend Construction Station.”
“I’d like to volunteer,” I began when the Admiral cut me off with a chop of his hand.
“Shuttle, now Mister Piran,” he ordered.
I turned to Fire Dove and stuck out my hand.
“Safe travels,” I said to the Striker.
“Alert,” he responded.
As soon as we finished shaking hands, he jogged to the cargo section of the DS.
“I know about the Constabulary and its Fighters,” I said, “Let me come. You’ll need everyone you can get to defend Construction Station.”
“No can do, J-Pop,” Wahid replied, “Your orders come from the Druid Council.”
After making me a Knight Protector of the Clan and equipping me with special gear, I was never trained on, the Druid Council wanted to see me. And I wanted to see them. We have a few issues to discuss.
“In that case Sirs,” I said to Folkert and Wahid, “Safe travels.”
“Dismissed, Lieutenant,” the Admiral ordered.
Chapter 49
I grabbed my gear from the cargo area on the DS and toted it to the Druids.
“Let
’s go,” I said to the Druids as I stepped into the Shuttle.
They didn’t greet me or speak. They silently followed me into the vessel. One stepped into the cockpit. The other sat across the aisle from me. As we were towed to the first air curtain, a big Space Cat appeared. He jumped into the seat beside me.
‘Knight hurt,’ the cat sent to me, ‘Padrig.’
I understood the cat’s name was Padrig but the ‘Knight hurt’ thought confused me. After pulling off my ear muffs and the rebreather mask, I studied the cat. Padrig had grey whiskers, a black face with mostly black fur on his body. Except, orange rings circled his body creating a black and orange pattern all the way to the tip of his long tail.
‘Confused,’ I sent to the cat.
‘Yes,’ Padrig sent back.
Then he turned around three times and settled down. Our conversation, such as it was, ended until we arrived at the Clan homeland on planet Uno.
The Shuttle landed smoothly and the hatch opened. I stepped to the opening and stopped.
It had been years since I’ve seen my Clan’s homeland. The mountains rose majestically to the sky framing the tall Heart Plant domes. It was as if the high peaks were there to protect them. In the past, they had.
When Asthore’ Mother Shea brought the plants home for protection, these mountains were the barrier that halted the Continental army. The ancestors of my Clan fought the army to a standstill on the high mountain plateaus and in the deep valleys.
The temples were the same. Tall buildings where white, yellow, blue and red Heart plants were grown and cared for before being sent out to Realm ships and Stations. I smiled as I remembered climbing the giant White Heart’s temple. As a young candidate, I took the Druid teacher at her word, and scaled the temple that called to me.
Padrig bumped against my leg dragging me out of my memories and back to the present. I didn’t know why I was here. An assignment for the Knight maybe? Or finally a meeting with the Druid Council?
Galactic Council Realm 3: On Guard Page 35
