by Ava D. Dohn
*
What Ardon knew was that the class of ship denotes its interior space, thus a cutter of around 500 tonnes was much less comfortable than a capital ship or carrier of from 40,000 to 100,000 tonnes. A barquentine of some 4,000 tonnes was a huge ship while parked in a spaceport, but was cramped and very uncomfortable in space, what with its crew of sailors and marines, the extra stowage of supplies, and all those ugly weapons. He was so glad Mother had not chosen one of those things for her delegation to travel on.
Thinking of what Mother chose did sour Ardon though - the antiquated Shikkeron with that washed up Captain Bedan. It was a brigantine class warship more fit for the scrap yard. And it was not much better than those barqs…an 8,000 tonne antique. Oh yes, it was refitted to the class of imperial brigantine, meaning that more comfort space had been stolen for battle armor – needing larger, more powerful energy machines - and weapons.
“Why couldn’t she have picked one of those?” Ardon grumped under his breath as the imperial cruiser, Flagellum, came into view. He was told it was a 20,000 tonne warship, the largest class ship able to fly atmospheric and use planetary spaceports. It had comfortable staterooms and private officers’ cabins. ‘She could have at least given us a frigate.’ He fussed to himself, thinking of the one they passed when first entering the spaceport. Displacing 12,000 tonnes, it was able to carry some creature comforts. ‘Won’t even be able to breathe in that rust bucket we’re taking!’ He sadly shook his head. ‘And to have to share the shower and head with the common sailor on such an important mission?! I just don’t know what’s got into Mother.’
Looking longingly at the cruiser, Flagellum, Ardon sat upright, surprised. The ship’s name was now changed just since he had departed for Chrusion less than two weeks ago. “DusmeAstron?!” He blurted aloud. “Why did they do that? Evening Star? What could be the reason for that?”
OfhieSanternano barely opened an eye, answering offhandedly, “Oh, that Euroaquilo fellow must be up to some trick or other. He’s supposed to be admiraling this venture. Never can leave well enough alone, always changing things. They say that he commanded it long ago, his first ship, and that was its name back then. Confusing gentleman to say the least, always living in the past, but the Navy likes him. In charge of the Third Fleet, you know.” He returned to his napping.
Ofhie’s answer did not satisfy Ardon’s question. The Navy didn’t just go around changing it ships’ names without reason, nor foregoing proper channels. Even if the Flagellum once was the DusmeAstron, one did not go changing names back for no good reason, and this trip was not a good enough reason. That much Ardon knew. Still…it was not long before the DusmeAstron was forgotten, someone calling out they were soon coming upon the Shikkeron.
What Ardon did fail to recall was one reason for such an unimpressive fleet taking them to such an important event. The Great War had been very costly, not only in loss of life, but in machines and ships as well. The last great naval engagement of that war was a running battle lasting eight days and costing the lives of millions and ruining both navies, something the leaders of the Children’s Empire had not bothered to correct during the following peacetime. To that day, the littered debris fields from the Day of Tears remained choked with untold destruction.
Lowenah chose not to deplete what little navy still existed, allowing it to carrying out its primary responsibility, that of protecting the territories and colonies of the Empire. She used what was available and expendable at the time, part of her nature. So, this greatest of delegations was to ride to valor upon the backs of broken and discarded machines not needed elsewhere for the moment, a fate that would immortalize their names into legend along with the heroes of flesh that manned their decks.
