Meeting in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 3)

by D Patrick Wagner

  Repeating Krag’s completion move, the heavily sweating Keiko grabbed a towel then wiped her face and arms.

  “Your weapons styles are very different.”

  “Yes, Sir Mahajani. I am a heavy-worlder. My strength is my strength. Also, on a world with great gravity, jumping and spinning is something my people do not learn as children. Keiko, on the other hand, comes from a world with much less gravity. That, plus her people are smaller than mine, require that she practice more avoidance and deflection.”

  “I notice you don’t use a sword. Nor does Keiko.”

  “We train with them. Buster is very good with one. But they are not practical in human society. On most worlds, swords are not allowed to be carried. They are more ceremonial.”

  “I see. Buster is a swordsman?” the eagerness in Sir Mahajani’s eyes told Krag exactly where he wanted to go.

  “Yes he is. Would you like to practice with him?”

  “Of course. If that is allowed.”

  “It is allowed. Buster, would you mind a short bout with Sir Mahajani?”

  “Not at all, Krag. You know that this is the first time I have used weapons since my upgrade.”

  “Will that be a problem?”

  “Not sure. I hope my new awareness algorithms do not interfere with my fighting ones.”

  “You’ll adjust. It’s part of growing up. So, both of you will learn something new.”

  Buster moved to retrieve a practice sword from the weapons wall. He chose a cutlass with a dulled blade and heavily padded tip.

  “Captain Marston, um, Krag?”

  “Yes, Mahi?”

  “I do not have a practice sword. Only my weapon.”

  “That won’t be a problem. Buster’s skin is made of reidite, a metal almost as strong as diamonds. The most you can do is scratch it.”

  “You are sure?”

  “Yes, Mahi. I am sure.”

  As Buster went through his sword selection, Krag Mindspoke. “Buster, start at level fifty defense and work down until you match his skill level. Then combine defense with offense.”

  “No problem, Krag. I’ve got this.”

  “And try not to break him too much.”

  “Yes, mother.”

  “Sarcasm? We’re doing sarcasm now?”

  “I learn from the best, oh captain, my captain.”

  Krag just hung his head and shook it. Once both combatants held swords and assumed positions, Krag signaled for the two warriors to begin.

  As the now common style of Elonian warriors, Sir Mahajani charged, scimitar held high in both paws. Slashing down, he attempted to cleave Buster’s head. Buster smoothly slid to the side, raised his cutlass at an angle and deflected Mahi’s blade. With a graceful spin, Buster came to en guarde.

  Again Mahi charged, this time, with a swarming figure-eight motion, slicing up, down and around. Buster floated around the mat, sliding off most of the strikes, avoiding others and pinning still others at the tops of their arcs. This continued until Mahi stopped and stepped back.

  Panting heavily, the Elonian warrior slowly circled Buster. Buster, in turn, held his en garde pose as he spun, always keeping the padded tip of his blunted cutlass pointed at Mahi’s throat. Mahi raised his scimitar in preparation for another lunge. Buster attacked.

  Lunging forward, Buster thrust his blade, point first, at Mahi’s face. Mahi brought his blade down hard, smashing away Buster’s cutlass, only to find the android’s blade had circled the scimitar’s swinging arc and repositioned at Mahi’s neck.

  With a soft push, Buster pressed the padded tip against Sir Mahajani’s throat and announced, “Touché.”

  Mahi stopped in bewilderment. His translator didn’t convert the word to Elonian

  “Humans have many languages. We speak English. Another Human language is French. The word ‘touché’ means touch. Or a blow has been struck.”

  “Thank you Buster. Again?”

  “As you wish, Sir Mahajani.”

  The one-sided sword fight went on for another thirty minutes, with Mahi never scoring and Buster scoring with little effort. At last Sir Mahajani conceded defeat, stepped back and saluted his superior opponent. Buster returned the salute and waited for whatever came next.

  “I have learned much, today, Captain Marston.”

  “I hope this, in some way, helps to repay some of the kindness Princess Analyn has shown me and my people.”

  “While training with Buster, I think I comprehend his approach to battle. He never attacked me directly. Is that correct?”

  “Buster?”

  “Yes, Sir Mahajani. I perceived that you are very strong with powerful striking technique. However, you keep your body rigid, without flexing or shifting. All your movement is done with your hips, legs and tail. Therefore I focused my initial efforts in directing you to positions of weakness. Then I would counter.”

  “This is a new concept for us. It is always the strongest, most dominant warrior who achieves victory. Is this normal human thinking?”

  “Yes, Sire. This logic is applied in all types of conflict, not just physical. Captain Marston uses techniques much like this when he is flying his combat ship.”

  “I see.” Turning to Krag, Mahi continued, “Captain Marston, I wish to formally request that you teach this style of fighting and thinking to your vassal, Gopai.”

  “Of course, Sir Mahajani. That has been the plan all along. We will also teach him some techniques to help him win his next grappling tournament.”

  “That would be most helpful. And now, I must leave. I have been apart from My Princess for too long.”

  “Let me escort you out, Sir Mahajani,” Keiko offered. “We have one more day of training before Wisdom Seeker reaches Elonia. May I invite you to attend?”

  “Of course, Ambassador Suzume. I would be honored to once again be shamed by Buster.” Mahi said this with, what Keiko learned to be, muzzle rippling, ear-flicking, dry wit.

  “I’m sure Buster is looking forward to it, also. Shall we?” Keiko gestured towards the hatch and the two left, closer friends than when they arrived.

  “Ok, Hank you got your show. You, Sue, go with Gopai and get his housing set up. Gopai, would you please contact Master Engineer Varrini and ask for his help?”

  “Yes, Sire.”

  “Go on, beat it, you three.”

  The three headed towards the corner of the cargo bay. Buster replaced his cutlass.

  “What level did you finally settle on?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “He’s good.”

  “Yes. A lot better than you.”

  “Thanks. I didn’t really need to be reminded of that.”

  “Just saying.”

  “You got that from Hank, too.”

  “He is a veritable fountain of experience.”

  Again, Krag just shook his head. Keiko returned from her sendoff.

  “Buster. Your new clothes are ripped.”

  “Very observant, Keiko. When I lowered myself to level thirty, he got a strike in. angular cut. If I had been human, I would have lost my arm.”

  “I’ll talk to Vidhee. Have another tunic printed. No, five. It seems this is your new uniform.”

  “Yes. I like wearing clothes. The tunic design shows homage to the Elonians who gave me my identity. The colors show my allegiance to you and Griffin.”

  “I see the children are playing with the new kid.”

  “They’re constructing a fort. What do you think? Today go well?”

  “Very well. I think. As we learn more about Elonians, the more I see our similarities and differences.”

  “What did you pick up today?”

  “Pack mentality. Not in a bad way like group think. More like a pack of wolves. Elonians all think alike.”

  “Yeah. I saw that in the ring. They all fought the same. Gopai was the only one who tried to adjust to something new.”

  “Maybe having him as a vassal won’t be so bad. If we can win him over, get him to th
ink more freely, there could be some major inroads.”

  “I’ll leave the philosophy to you. I’ll work on his military and combat training. Maybe have Mack and Sue teach him some sort of trade.”

  “Mack and Sue, let’s play that by ear. Let them go in whatever direction they want to go in. The philosophy and training, I like that.”

  “Then that’s the plan.”

  “Just don’t get too scratched up. Evenings are mine.” Keiko’s hungry eyes were the real message.

  “Just a moment. Vidhee just commed.”

  “Would you ask her to print up more tunics for Buster?”

  “Hello, Vidhee. What may I do for you?”

  “Thank you for making time for my com, Captain Marston. Sir Mahajani has given his report to Princess Analyn concerning Gopai’s first training day. She requests that she and I be allowed to observe tomorrow’s, if that will not interfere with your agenda.”

  “Of course you and the Princess are always welcome. I will look forward to your presence. Please tell Princess Analyn that, not only is she welcome, her presence will be an honor. Yours, as well, Vidhee.”

  “Thank you, Captain Marston. I will convey your good sentiments.”

  “I do have a request from Ambassador Keiko. She asks if you would be so kind as to print up five tunics for Buster. Apparently, Sir Mahajani shredded his today.”

  “Of course I will. I shall bring them tomorrow.”

  “Oh, and, if he has one, would you ask Sir Mahajani to bring a practice sword tomorrow?”

  “I shall ask him. Until tomorrow, Captain Marston.”

  “Until Tomorrow, Vidhee.”

  “You got your tunics. Something’s going on. We have an audience tomorrow.”

  “Vidhee?”

  “And Princess Analyn.”

  “Yes, they want to see something.”

  “Let’s show them something. How about, you suit up and do your thing with Mahajani.”

  “Do you think that would go over well?”

  “Probably not with Mahajani. But I think it will with the Princess and Vidhee.”

  “Ok. But if it goes sideways, I’m blaming you.”

  Latinia

  The short six day run saw Odin entering the Arium system and Vice-Admiral Weiskoff being surprised by the amount of traffic this normally inactive system contained. Weiskoff saw freighters coming and going from Latinia. He saw Ore carriers entering and exiting the asteroid belt. Everything arrowed towards the Tolimar gate. The freighters Odin had followed in, Weiskoff saw them heading towards Latina.

  “What’s going on here, Jerry?”

  “Not a clue, Admiral. But something’s up.”

  “Yeah. I’ll bet Moreno’s playing some sort of game. Let’s go visit.”

  Seven hours later, on the other side of the system, Captain Brewer brought Odin into a geosynchronous orbit over Latina’s seat of power, Nuevo Aires. All of the landing and leaving freighters gave the Federacy dreadnaught a wide birth as they continued their loading and unloading of their cargos.

  Watching this hive of activity, Vice-Admiral Weiskoff turned to Odin’s captain. “Captain Brewer, please inform Governor Moreno I will be arriving in one hour.” The disdain in his voice as he pronounced the name clearly came through.

  “Aye, aye Admiral.”

  “And prepare a shuttle. Six marines should do. Full gear.”

  “Aye, aye.”

  Captain Brewer passed on the orders and monitored their progress.

  Weiskoff decided to go with intimidation. He changed into landside greens, strapped on a pistol and chose a black beret with the Federacy patch for a head cover. Returning to his ready room, he found his First Officer already changed and waiting.

  “Shuttle is ready, Vice-Admiral,” Weiskoff heard over his personal com.

  “Your pilot is Lieutenant Tillerson. First Squad is your escort, led by First Sergeant Nelson. They are awaiting your arrival in launch bay one.”

  “Thank you, Captain. Shall we, Mr. Clark?”

  The two headed to the elevators, descended the five floors to the launch level and headed to bay one. After everyone loaded in, Lieutenant Tillerson insured that everyone strapped in correctly, took her place in the pilot’s chair and lifted off. The short flight brought the craft to the landing port on the outskirts of Nuevo Aires. Everyone piled out and waited under the hot, humid sun.

  Between the heat, sweat and wait, Vice-Admiral Weiskoff developed a slow burn. His first officer and the marine squad, seeing their commander’s angry pacing and periodic slapping of a hand on his thigh, kept their distance and kept quiet.

  By the time the limousine pulled up, everyone had sweaty armpits and soaked collars. The driver jumped out, opened the back and gave space. A slender man in an expensive suit stepped out and approached.

  “Hi. I’m Ricardo DiMaggio. Everyone calls me ‘Richie’. You must be Vice-Admiral Weiskoff,” Rick commented as he read the name tag on Weiskoff’s blouse. He held out his hand.

  Ignoring the proffered gesture, Weiskoff stated, “I expected Governor Moreno.”

  “Unfortunately he’s tied up. With the alien invasion and all.”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Common knowledge. You’ll need to speak to the Governor.” Seeing the squad of marines, Rick remarked, “More than I expected. Let me get a bus.” Touching his throat mike, he placed the order. Everyone stood around some more.

  Upon seeing the bus arrive, Rick asked, “Will all of you be taking the bus? Or will some go in the limo?”

  This put Weiskoff in a spot. Stay with his men or get the royal treatment. “Mr. Clark and I will ride with you. Our security will follow.”

  “Excellent. We have refreshments.”

  A still seething vice-admiral climbed in, followed by his adjunct and Rick. The drive took just long enough for Weiskoff to dampen his anger with three fingers of scotch and his adjunct to drain a bottle of water. Their trip ended by parking in front of a non-descript door with a silver, metal plaque stamped with raised, gold lettering, reading ‘Governor Sheldon Moreno’. The bus pulled in behind and everyone, from both vehicles, piled out.

  “Moreno doesn’t work out of the Governor’s building?”

  “It’s more secure here, Admiral. And more comfortable.” Richie ignored Weiskoff’s slight of not using Moreno’s title.

  Richie approached the door, looked at the camera and waited. The door buzzed. Opening it, he led Weiskoff and his men inside. Instead of leading them to the office previously visited by Krag and Keiko, he turned left at an elevator.”

  “The elevator isn’t large enough for all of us. Maybe half. You can send half of your marines up first, check things out. We can follow. Is that alright with you?”

  “Fine. Sergeant Nelson. You and four others.”

  “Sir.”

  Pointing, the sergeant selected Jonesy, Garcia, Smitty and Taylor. They piled in. Richie reached around and pushed the button for the fifth floor and stepped back. He, and the remaining four, waited as the doors closed, the elevator motor hummed and the floor level light clicked up to five and back down to one.

  After their turn to go through the motions, the remaining five exited the elevator and entered a luxurious, open office, its opulent, expansive space broken by the presence of seven armed marines. Weiskoff took in these expensive surroundings, saw lots of glass overlooking the city, walls covered with art, more art scattered around on tables and stands.

  A smallish, dark-haired man in a very expensive suit rose from his glass-topped desk, came around and held out a hand. “The famous Vice-Admiral Theodore Millhouse Weiskoff, the third. Pleased to meet you.”

  This time Weiskoff shook the hand. “Governor Moreno.”

  “Have a seat. Richie, please bring these men some beverages. What will you have?”

  “Nothing for me and my men, Mr. Moreno,” Sergeant Nelson answered for his squad.

  “Nothing for me,” Clark stated.

 
“Same here. How do you know about the alien invasion?”

  “Ah,. Well.” The Governor avoided answering as he went to his wet bar, poured himself a snifter of something dark red, returned and sat on one of the couches. Throwing an arm across the back and a leg over a knee, Moreno offered, “Sit. Let’s talk.”

  “Still carrying a modicum of anger, Weiskoff sat. Clark followed.

  “Again, how do you know about the alien invasion?”

  “Lawrence Gregor told me. How he knows, you need to ask him.”

  “And where would I find him?”

  “Tolimar.”

  “What’s he doing in Tolimar?”

  “You’ll have to ask him.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “And I said to ask him.”

  “Look, Moreno, I am a representative of the Federacy Space Force. As that representative, I am asking you a question.”

  “Let me ask you a question, Vice-Admiral. I know that the alien bugs have invaded Dorogon. And that they are pushing towards Bridgelen. Have they reached Bridgelen?”

  “That is classified.”

  “So they have. You are in Arium space with one ship. A big ship, I’ll grant you that. But one ship. No fleet. No support carriers. One ship. What happened?”

  “That’s classified. Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “In general, yes. We’re preparing for war. If you want details, you need to talk to Lawrence Gregor. On Tolimar. I’m just doing what I’m told.”

  “Under the war-powers act, I could arrest you, commandeer this whole planet, this whole system.”

  “Yes you could. But like I said. One ship. And, according to my scouts, beat up around the edges. You’ve been in a battle. How much ordinance have you burned through? How much do you have left? I’ll wager that the aliens are in Bridgelen. That means you’re cut off from Cencore. Is that why you’re here?”