by Kal Spriggs
I took a moment to look right back at them. This was the first time I'd had to study any of the Erewhonese. Most of them were short, some of them were even shorter than me. Dark hair seemed prevalent, with brown eyes being common. Most of them were stocky, with tan or nut-brown skin.
They talked quietly among themselves, often shooting looks over at us. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but they talked quickly, their voices clipped. I could also pick up a lot of short-range transmissions on my implant, which told me that most or all of them had implants and that they were talking to one another via that as well.
That was about as much as I had time to take in. The counter on the display dropped to zero and the docking hatch opened. I got a glimpse of a shuttle beyond and all the Erewhon Defense Force personnel rose and hurried over, nearly bowling over Alexander as he hesitated. He and I were almost forced aboard by the impatient group and we both went to the rear of the shuttle, taking seats right at the back, while the other passengers seemed to fill in the seats and rows in order.
Apparently, their curiosity and distrust for us ended the moment there was something to do. Boarding completed quickly and the shuttle's hatch closed. “Departing Rouf Station,” an automated voice announced. A moment later we were in free fall, then I could feel the minor bumps of thrusters engaging to bring us away from the station.
The shuttle had a tactical warp drive, so our journey after that didn't take very long at all. The automated voice announced, “Docking Defense Station Zulu,” after only fifteen minutes or so and we went through another period of free fall before the shuttle came alongside the other station.
The shuttle docked smoothly, but gravity didn't resume. Alexander and I followed the others off the shuttle, where gravity seemed to resume past the docking hatch. That suggested the station had grav-plates installed, rather than using spin, which was an interesting fact to file away. Grav plates in the decking were both energy intensive and expensive. Most capital ships used grav plates rather than their warp fields to generate gravity for their crews, but many stations used grav plates sparingly, making use of station spin as often as not in order to give crews and passengers some sense of up and down and to prevent a lot of the health issues that long term zero gravity caused on the human body.
As we stepped aboard Defense Station Zulu, a group of officers were awaiting us. Each of them called out names, collecting various passengers from the shuttle and leading them off. The last one, a female officer who could have been the twin of the one who had guided Alexander and I before, called our names as well as two others. “Welcome to Defense Station Zulu's Officer Training School Midshipman,” she nodded at the two Erewhon Defense Force personnel who stood next to us, “and Century Planetary Militia Cadets.” This time she nodded at Alexander and I. She had an impersonally friendly tone and I had to fight the urge to toss something at her to see if she were another hologram. She wore a Mobile Defense Force uniform and her rank on her collar showed she was a Star Commandant, if I remembered the insignia right, which was one step down from flag rank, here. It was also a weird rank, higher than a Captain but junior to an Admiral. Century's Planetary Militia didn't have an equivalent rank. Her name was sewn onto her blue uniform, unlike the Century uniforms we wore, where we had name tags that stuck to our uniforms. It read: Athena.
“Please follow me to School In-processing,” the Erewhon officer said, turning and leading the way out. The two Erewhon Midshipmen paused only to grab their bags and hurried after her. Alexander and I did the same. I was a bit surprised at someone so senior leading us, but again, I wasn't sure if she was really there or if she were just a holographic projection. For that matter, Athena sounded like a made-up name, maybe she was just a computer interface or something.
She walked at a brisk pace, which didn't give us time to really look around. I caught glimpses of utilitarian corridors and occasional machinery spaces. The station had a very rough and rugged feel. There were no frills. Power conduits and piping ran along the corridors on the walls and ceiling. Hatch combings were thick and boxy, rather than molded or contoured. I didn't have time to consider it before we were led into a larger open room.
Another officer came up, “Exchange students in that line,” he told us, pointing to the side. Alexander and I moved over and fell in behind two more student. This pair were tall, one had sandy-blonde hair and the other dark hair and they wore green uniforms that I recognized as being from the MCA.
One of the two gave Alexander and I nods, but none of us spoke.
The group of Erewhon midshipmen was surprisingly small. There were only about two dozen of them, I noticed, including the two that had come aboard with us. It made me wonder if they ran multiple classes, perhaps even on some of the other stations.
The officer who'd guided us here had disappeared, though I wasn't sure if she'd vanished as a hologram or walked out. With how sophisticated the earlier hologram had been, I was nervous about what I was really seeing, or being allowed to see. I hadn't seen holographic projectors in those corridors, but they'd had to have had some to manifest her, if she'd been a hologram like our previous escort.
If they made wide use of holograms, it wouldn't be too hard to hide corridors and view ports with them and limit what we would be allowed to see here aboard the station. It was an uncomfortable feeling to not be certain if I could trust my eyes.
I hadn't yet tried to interface with any of their networks with my implant. We'd been cautioned against doing a direct interface with their systems, to prevent giving them a full look at our implant capabilities, and Doctor Schoeffelk had uploaded a sort of firewall for us to use to prevent that.
As we stood there, waiting, the same female officer from before came in from a door in the front. “Midshipmen and Guests,” she said, nodding in our direction, “I am Star Commandant Athena, I run the Defense Station Zulu Officer Training School, as well as commanding the . At this time, we will collect your assignments. Please upload your files to the school network. For our guests, you should be able to locate it now when you search for it.”
Not much for welcomes and pleasantries I guess. I pulled my datapad out of my bag and connected, after a moment, I found where we were supposed to upload our assignments and did so. The two students from the MCA chatted as they did it, one of them joking about how “fancy” that was.
It seemed fairly standard to me.
“At this time, we are awaiting only one more shuttle, so we'll begin in-processing. We've already completed your medical exams. You will all be issued environmental suits shortly, if you don't have them. Evaluations will begin tomorrow for this phase. You will find a map of the school and authorized areas for Midshipmen and guests. Anyone found outside of authorized areas will result in termination from the course. Any unauthorized access to systems outside of the school network will result in termination from the course.” She said it with heavy weight. I was watching her as she spoke, trying to gauge if she was really there or not, if she was a hologram, if she might be a computer program or if she were a real person. She could even be a real person projecting a hologram. My head started hurting as I tried to think through all the possibilities.
She looked human. She was tall, pale skinned, with dark hair, and she had bright green eyes. But the way she talked seemed a bit off. There were pauses, here and there, sort of like what you'd see while a computer selected from pre-recorded sections or a hologram might wait for transmissions.
An enlisted woman came through, passing out plastic cards to our line. “These cards will allow our guest students access to their quarters and areas of the school.”
“Additionally--” Star Commandant Athena broke off, looking up. I noticed that the Erewhon Midshipmen all looked up at the overhead, too, as if they were hearing something that we couldn't. A moment later, an automated voice spoke from the intercom, “Alert, alert, alert. Unauthorized vessel emergence. Battle-stations, battle-stations.”
I swallowed nervously, glancing a
round. We didn't have environmental suits. I wasn't too certain about the safety of this section of the station. For that matter, I still didn't really know whether I should be worried.
The officer cocked her head, “This poses a good teachable moment. Activate central display.”
A hologram of the system appeared in the center of the room. It was remarkably detailed, even more so for the fact that it was three meters or more in height and I didn't see any sort of holographic projectors for it. It simply appeared. Holograph projectors weren't exactly one of my primary fields of study, but I knew how they worked. You needed a projector, power source, and image to project. The image required a full three-dimensional input. Holographic projectors weren't all that big, but they projected a light display in the air, or on a surface. Home use entertainment holovids were normally projected into a crystal matrix or, like with datapads, painted onto the user's eye with tailored projections. Military and high-level commercial grade projectors could produce their images in the air, ionizing particles to create their displays. A bigger display like that needed more power and also required more projectors, to retain the detail over a large display. To do that kind of thing across any real distance required a lot of power. Like enough to cook someone if they were standing in the wrong place, and doing it from a distance was enough to lose some of the detail, anyway.
This imagery was crystal clear. I could pick out the tiny motes of ships moving through the system, I could pick out the warning red carats around the unidentified vessel, I could even read the sensor info that was enough to identify it as frigate or destroyer size, with a military-grade warp drive. Vulture-class, I thought to myself, Drakkus Empire construction and sold to a variety of independent pirates and privateers.
The projector was also detailed enough that I could pick out the shuttle that the enemy ship had attacked and I could follow the shuttle's evasive maneuvers.
“Defense Station Zulu,” Star Commandant Athena snapped, her voice clear and calm, “come to heading three four one. Engage and destroy the intruder.”
I blinked as I realized that this was a live feed of the station's sensors. My eyes went wide as the display shifted, as we moved fast. The defense station crossed the distance between the shuttle and the enemy ship far faster than a human brain could follow. I used my implant to split off some of my focus to monitor that progress, to pull in details, even as I watched with most of my attention as the battle unfolded.
Battle might not have been the best word for it. The station managed to close to engagement range with the smaller ship in only a few seconds. Before the ship even knew it was in trouble, I felt the station thrum, slightly, and then weapon tracks worked out away from the station, converging on the enemy ship.
The frigate seemed to pick up the station's approach and attack just before the weapon tracks converged on it. It began evasive maneuvers, but it was too late. I'd counted forty or more shots, and one of the weapon tracks crossed over the small ship's drive.
I could read the pulse of radiation and gas on the display with just as much crystal clarity as anything else. The intruder had been destroyed in a single hit. The probability of survivors was so small as to not warrant any kind of search.
“Engagement complete,” an automated voice spoke from above.
“Excellent,” Star Commandant Athena noted. “Tag the wreckage for examination. Stand down from battle-stations. Well done, everyone.” I wasn't sure if she was speaking to us or the crew of the station. Possibly both. “Prepare to welcome our other guests aboard.” I had to assume she was talking about the shuttle that the intruding ship had attacked.
“Secure the display,” Star Commandant Athena finished. The display vanished as quickly as it had come. Even looking around, I didn't see projectors retracting into hidden compartments. Either they were very well concealed, which seemed a strange waste, or else I was missing something.
“Now then, since our last guests have just come aboard,” Star Commandant Athena went on, “I'll wait for them to arrive before I go on.”
That perked up even further interest. I had recognized the green uniforms of the MCA cadets, but I wasn't sure who else might be coming. Our briefing had mentioned that many of the Periphery colonies were talking alliances and working together, but Erewhon was hardly the trusting sort. It had been something of a major concession on their parts to allow anyone to see part of their capabilities. They'd allowed Century and the MCA to send cadets only because both our systems possessed strong enough militias and legacies of helping out their allies. More, we'd both been trade partners with Erewhon for the past twenty years.
I couldn't think of anyone who met the same categories to be invited to this program.
Even as I pondered that, the back door to the room opened and another Erewhon officer led two young people through, followed by a pair of bodyguards in red and black armor. I could tell they were bodyguards from the way they moved, their visors sweeping the room for threats, their positions watchful.
The two cadets or midshipmen or whatever they were, wore space-black uniforms that hugged their bodies. I set my implant to reviewing known military uniforms, trying to identify them. The boy was tall, taller than Alexander Karmazin, with blood-red hair drawn back in a knot at the back of his head, pale skin, and watery blue-green eyes. He looked oddly familiar, though I couldn't say why. The girl, beside him, was almost as tall, nearly two meters in height, with the same blood-red hair and equally pale skin. Her green-eyed gaze swept the room, obvious interest on her features as she took things in.
I found a match to their uniforms just as Star Commandant Athena introduced them, “Welcome, Prince Ladon and Princess Kiyu of the Drakkus Empire. Our final two guests for Erewhon's Officer Training School have arrived.”
***
Chapter 5: I Have A Bit Of A Competitive Nature
A few hours later, Karmazin and I were seated in my quarters. Back on Century, Cadets First Class warranted their own rooms, mostly because they were Cadet Officers who had multiple responsibilities that included counseling their subordinate candidates and lots of projects that required privacy and space to work.
Apparently, the Officer Training School worked under similar parameters. Which was good, because what we were talking about wasn't something I wanted to talk about in front of witnesses.
“You sure we're not being monitored?” I asked.
Karmazin sighed and tapped the device he'd set down on my desk. “As far as our best snooping gear can tell, yeah. They have no monitors on us in our private quarters. Then again, that was part of the agreement of us coming here, we were supposed to have privacy.”
“Yeah,” I couldn't help a bitter note to my voice, “our good friends here at Erewhon, who also seem to be good friends with Drakkus.”
“We don't know that for certain...” Karmazin began.
“They have a freaking Prince and Princess here,” I snapped. “Call me crazy, but I doubt they have an excess of those back at Drakkus.” I couldn't help a snarl, “And you saw what happened when someone made a run on their shuttle, the Erewhon Military took them out, real quick.”
“They had to,” Karmazin's jaw stuck out, “Look, if something had happened to their royalty when they were in this system... Drakkus would practically have to declare war on Erewhon... which would drag us in, I guarantee. It's a hocking good thing they stopped that attack or there would have been war for certain.”
I considered that... and then realized that I'd let my emotions, my prejudices get the better of me. “You're right,” I admitted, ever so grudgingly. I took a moment to think, to really think about what I'd seen. The Prince and Princess had been given the same courtesies and introductions as the rest of the class, or at least, us foreign students. But what they hadn't received was the big flashy display, the chance to see Defense Station Zulu in action. In fact, if they'd come over on a shuttle like ours, they may not have even realized they were under attack unless the pilot had time to warn them
.
That was a point in and of itself. They'd brought them aboard a different shuttle. We'd come aboard with some of the Erewhon midshipmen from Rouf Station. No one else had accompanied the Drakkus representatives. I said as much to Karmazin, who thought about it for a moment.
“Maybe they expected some kind of attack and didn't want to risk their people?” He suggested.
I considered that, “Possibly. Or else they don't want their people getting too friendly with Drakkus's royal family. Our world serves as sort of an object lesson on how that can turn out,” I scowled as I thought about the late, unlamented Charterer Beckman.
Alexander Karmazin snorted. “You may have a point.”
“So, what do we have?” He asked after a long moment. “We know that Drakkus sent two of their most senior reps, right?”
I nodded, “But I don't know how qualified they are to be here, either.” When he raised an eyebrow, I went on. “Some of what we have on their royal family is stuff available in their media. Crown Prince Abrasax is one of their senior officers. We saw that first hand with his invasion fleet, right?”
Alexander gave me a nod, “Yeah, you can say that again.” It was kind of hard to forget dozens of ships appearing so low in orbit that they were visible to the naked eye. Especially when several of those ships had been dreadnoughts.
“Well, his brother is also military, Prince Ryujin. But we don't know what role he has, just that his name doesn't get plastered in their media with military victories.” My grandmother had given me a file on the big players in the Drakkus Empire, but I'd never suspected I'd have need of it here at Erewhon.
“Prince Ladon is Crown Prince Abrasax's son. He started at the Drakkus Imperial Military Institute about six months ago, so he's halfway through his first year there.”
