Brock laughed and slung his arms around the shoulders of the two girls, his right hand resting on Pieter’s shoulder too. The four of them looked out over the hangar deck as Molly, Sean, Jack, and Joel emerged from the direction of the base conference room.
“This is an historic day,” Brock told them, his eyes taking on a distant look and his voice suddenly more awe-inspired than panicked now. “The first time that Zhyn have been on this base. And we’re here to witness it.”
Paige glanced at him sideways. “Actually, we’re here to welcome and entertain,” she corrected him.
“And we don’t know this is the first time,” Pieter added. “Remember, we were the first ones on this base in fifty-something years… but who knows what went on before that. This whole base could have been operated by Zhyn before then.”
Maya chuckled. “Unlikely. But we get the point,” she agreed.
Brock sighed. “Oh, small minds.” He patted the heads of the two girls. “History is unraveling before your very eyes and yet you jest about trivialities.
“And technicalities,” Pieter added.
“And actual facts,” Paige added with a grin.
Just then the hangar doors started opening, revealing the inky blackness of space behind them. The four waited, barely daring to breathe. They strained their eyes into the distant darkness, waiting for a glimpse of a ship that was going to escort them out into an area of space they had never thought of venturing yet, to meet what would likely be the most formidable opponent they had ever encountered.
A number of seconds passed before the darkness beyond was eclipsed by something huge and ship-like.
“It’s not going to fit!” Maya gasped.
“That’s what she said,” Brock started, sniggering to himself. The others couldn’t help but smile at the lame-ass joke.
Pieter pulled up his holo. “Oz wouldn’t be guiding them in if they weren’t going to fit,” he told her, as if Maya were being ridiculous in her concern.
A few moments later the ship seemed to line up with the hangar doors and slip effortlessly into the space inside. A few more minutes later it gently touched down in the central open space of the deck.
“It’s massive!” Maya gasped, her eyes wide and everyone else forgotten.
This time Paige sniggered at the obvious continuation joke which a quick glance to the others told her she didn’t need to bother vocalizing.
“We should head down,” Brock interrupted enthusiastically. Before the others knew what was happening Brock was already half-way down the first flight of stairs, boots thumping against the metal. Paige noticed the side door of the ship opening and a staircase unfurling. She was tempted to watch from her vantage point but didn’t want to miss the introductions. She hurried after the others, carefully picking her way in her high heels and cursing her affinity to fashion.
They arrived on the deck just in time to see four large Zhyn heading from the stairs of their ship to the group of their leaders: Joel, Jack, Sean and Molly who had taken a few steps forward and were about to shake hands.
Paige caught up with Maya, grabbing her arm. “They’re even bigger than Ben’or!” she gasped. “I can’t believe Molly is going to do that human custom! She’ll get her hand broken.”
“I know,” Maya agreed, wincing in anticipation. “I’m glad I’m not a diplomat or anything. All that touching and backslapping. Being a leader when there are guys like this around is a risky business.”
Paige narrowed her eyes at her. “You’re pulling my leg?”
Maya grinned and kept walking, stopping a few yards away, just next to where Brock and Pieter had felt it appropriate to stop.
* * *
Molly watched as the group of Zhyn dignitaries and representatives approached her welcome party. Now seeing the Admiral, she wished she had made more of an effort. Merely hoping that Paige would take care of details like the refreshments seemed like a massive oversight on her part.
She stepped forward and held out her hand, hoping that the human custom would be understood.
“Greetings Admiral,” she said, addressing the warrior with the most medals on the front of his robes.
“Awww hawwww, Molly Bates, I presume!” the Admiral guffawed as he approached. He took her hand and shook it enthusiastically. Molly felt her whole body being shaken up and down as he shook her hand and then clamped her firmly on her shoulder.
She recovered herself and managed to wriggle free. “Admiral, welcome to Gaitune-67. We are most honored to have you here… and deeply appreciative of your efforts in helping us.”
“Ah, speak nothing of it, Ms. Bates. We’re glad to be here. And after everything you’ve done for our empire over the years, it is an honor to be able to repay the debt.”
Molly felt the eyeballs of the team behind her, and when she turned she clocked Paige, Maya, Pieter, and Brock not a short distance away too.
“May I introduce you to my team, Admiral,” she offered, stepping out of the way. “This is Joel Dunham, Sean Royale, and Jack Nolan.”
She surreptitiously tried to rub her shoulder joint as they made their greetings. Interestingly no one else opted for stepping forward to shake his hand. Instead, they kept their arms firmly by their sides and bowed courteously.
Neat trick. Wish I’d thought of that before my shoulder was dislocated.
All in the days work for a leader.
Quite. But I bet these guys don’t know their own strength.
I rather suspect they’re used to handling people who have a similar resiliency to themselves.
I don’t disagree.
The Admiral, looking very pleased, turned back to Molly. “Thank you for your warm welcome. May I present some of my crew members. This is my second in command, Fleet Sergeant Kitcher.”
The Zhyn who was similarly dressed stepped forward to bow shortly to Molly. Having learned her lesson, she returned the bow. He made a similar gesture to the others and they introduced themselves again, helping one another to remember the new names.
Two Zhyn in flight suits stood back a few paces. Molly wasn’t familiar with their customs but they looked as though they were standing at attention, and were probably of a lower rank. She was about to offer an introduction to them when Admiral Clor’s gaze fell behind her, as if he were distracted. She turned to see Ben’or coming over to join them.
“Admiral Clor, you probably know The Right Honorable Ben’or—” Before she could get any further with the introduction Ben’or and Clor were embracing each other, slapping each other vigorously and enthusiastically on the backs.
“I guess you guys know each other?”
“That we do, Molly dear. That we do,” Ben’or chuckled. He released Clor and turned to Kitcher. “Good to see you too, Kitcher. It’s been too long.”
Kitcher embraced Ben’or with a similar enthusiasm, but Molly noticed a slight resistance in his eye. “Ben’or. Not long enough. I still haven’t forgotten how you tricked me on our final test.”
Ben’or chuckled loudly as he waved an arm to the other two Zhyn warriors in the party.
“Now, now,” Clor interjected. “Graduation was a long time ago now, Kitcher.”
“Yes, not good to carry grudges,” Ben’or added, tapping his nose and winking at what Molly deduced must have been an old rival back at some Zhyn training thing.
The decibel levels of the conversations had escalated since Ben’or arrived on the deck leaving the others mostly just spectators in proceedings now.
“How about we retire to one of the conference rooms where we can have some refreshments, and discuss our plans?” Molly suggested, gesturing in the direction of the base conference rooms and labs.
“Of course, thank you,” Admiral Clor replied. He and Ben’or led the way chatting between themselves. Kitcher held back a little, allowing the humans to go ahead of him, and then he and Molly brought up the rear. He turned back briefly to nod to the other two who hadn�
�t yet been introduced.
Each of the two saluted him and relaxed their postures as if they’d been dismissed.
Paige took the initiative, delicately stepping forward. “Greetings of the day to you,” she called to them, her voice raised as if talking to someone who might be deaf.
The pair glanced at each other, then grinned. “Greetings,” they responded, stepping forward to meet with Paige’s group.
“I’m Trev’or,” the first said, waving a hand casually.
“And I’m Ruther.”
Paige put a hand on her chest. “Paige,” she told them.
Maya waved nervously. “Maya.”
The pair nodded.
“Pieter,” Pieter said, waving and then knocking his hair out of his eyes awkwardly.
“Brock,” Brock added finally. He beamed at them. “So I guess you’re also not invited to the private party?” he joked, nodding in the direction where the leaders had disappeared.
“Ah, nah,” Trev’or replied. “Above our stripes,” he added tapping the stripes on the arm of his jumpsuit.
Brock sniggered. “Ours too.”
There was an awkward silence between the two groups as they each racked their brains for the next thing to say.
“So…” Paige ventured, “what do you guys do on the ship?”
Ruther shrugged. “Well, we’re basically technicians that follow those two around and execute their orders.”
Trev’or took over. “Means we could be flying their ship one minute…”
“Or communicating with the entire fleet the next,” Ruther added.
Paige smiled at the way they seemed to talk as a unit.
“Actually,” Ruther continued, “the boss thought it would be a good idea for us to come and meet with you. We’re going to be helping coordinate the operation, so he thought us knowing each other would be useful.”
Paige grinned, excited that though they operated worlds apart they still seemed to share a common thought process. “That was some good thinking!” she exclaimed.
“Plus,” Trev’or added, “we were kinda curious. We have never seen any Estarians before. You’re strangely more multicolored than we expected.”
Paige giggled and nudged Maya who was also amused. “Oh… We’re not all Estarian. I’m half human. Estarian coloring. Brock and Pieter are human…”
Brock waved, grinning. Pieter nodded awkwardly, flicking some unkempt hair out of his eyes.
“And you saw Molly and the others… They’re also human.”
“I’m Estarian though,” Maya chirped up. Then she looped an errant strand of dark hair behind her ear and did a turn on her toes.
The two Zhyn technicians looked at each other and applauded at her twirl.
“Forgive us,” Trev’or explained. “We don’t mean to be rude. We’re just fascinated. We appreciate you explaining the difference to us.”
Paige wafted her hand. “No problem at all. We were kinda curious about the Zhyn people too. I think it’s a great thing that we get to spend some time together.”
Ruther piped up. “Hey, so, in the interests of learning what we can about your culture… what do you think you can show us?”
“Well, we could start with the tour of the base,” Paige started.
Maya put a hand on her friend's’ forearm. “I have a better idea,” she offered in a slightly conspiratorial tone. “How about we show them something truly human?”
Paige frowned. “What do you propose?”
“Pizza,” Maya said simply.
They all laughed.
Except for the two Zhyn. “What is this pizza you speak of?” Ruther asked.
Brock grinned inching forward into the conversation a little more. “It’s a human specialty,” he explained with a wink.
Paige clapped her hands and led them toward the stairs to the safe house. “Good thinking, Maya. And while we eat, we can talk and tell you anything you want to know.”
“Food?” Ruther grinned. “Couldn’t have thought of anything better myself.” He rubbed his strong, over-sized hands together, clearly even more interested in the cultural exchange now.
The group moved across the hangar deck as a unit now. “Let’s head upstairs then,” Paige confirmed, “and I’ll put an order in.”
Maya and Paige led the way, the two Sarkian boys walking behind with their new comrades.
Base Conference Room, Gaitune-67
Mochas and teas were passed around, and several plates of hors-d'oeuvres were placed in front of the guests.
“Are you sure you don’t want to rest before we talk?” Molly asked again.
“No, no… we’re fine. We’ve just hopped down on the transporter.”
Molly frowned. “You mean that ship you’ve just arrived on.”
“Uh huh.”
“So that’s not your regular space-faring ship?”
“Oh no…” Clor chuckled, throwing Ben’or a knowing glance. “That’s like a little shuttle to get us from the flagship down to land here. Easier for dockings and landing on planets. Uses about one-millionth of the energy for takeoff… and landing.”
Ben’or watched the realization of the relative ship sizes dawn on Molly, as if LEDs had just been activated in dark areas of her brain.
Molly nodded deferentially.
Fleet Sergeant Kitcher and Joel had been talking. They seemed to have worked out an order of business between them whilst the teas were being passed around.
Kitcher cleared his throat. “Well. If we’re all ready…”
Molly motioned to give him the floor.
Kitcher acknowledged her with a bow of his head and then began. “Thank you again for your hospitality. Joel and I thought it might be useful to start with the resources we have available. So although we weren’t able to bring the entire fleet, we have managed to bring twenty ships.”
Sean nearly choked on his tea. “That’s a whole fleet to some people!” he looked up a moment. “Well, some… Perhaps not the Empire.”
Joel smirked, watching him recover himself. “Certainly in this sector,” he agreed, a little more composed.
Clor gruffed from behind a pastry which looked smaller than miniature in his large hand. “Well, our fleets normally ride out a hundred ship strong on normal missions. But of course, this is a special case and we couldn’t risk alerting other powers in the Federation.”
Molly nodded quietly. “Of course. And we’re grateful for any help.”
Joel and Sean sat quietly, wide-eyed at the sheer firepower at the beck and call of these two men. If Joel had to guess from Sean’s posture, he may have suspected that maybe Sean was even a little intimidated by their superior firepower.
Sean swallowed hard and found his voice. “So… just to be clear. The ship you landed was a… transporter. How much bigger are your actual ships?”
The two Zhyn exchanged a glance as if searching for a number. Clor shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a hundred?”
“Oh.”
Sean sat back, his questions taken care of.
Jack leaned forward next, a perplexed look on her face. “Sorry… it’s probably not super relevant. But if your ships are a hundred times bigger… how do you ever land them?”
Kitcher glanced at his boss and seemed to volunteer to take this next question. “Generally, we don’t. We build them in a docking station, and when we decommission them we do the reverse. Dock them, and take them apart for parts. Most ships have never even been in an atmosphere.”
“Oh,” Jack managed, before she too sat back with no further questions.
Sean sat up again. “But your transporter had guns, and missiles! Big-ass missiles!”
Ben’or sat quietly the corner of his mouth now smirking.
Kitcher could see him out of his peripheral vision but managed to keep his own face straight. “This is true,” he conceded. “Though they are nothing compared to the actual battleships.”
; Molly watched the team acclimatize to the new levels of firepower in their mix. Seeing that their burning questions had been answered she leaned forward. “So. Erm… our plan?”
“Yes,” the Admiral agreed, “what do you need us to do?”
Molly thought for a moment. “Well, mostly we need you there as a deterrent. A threat, so we don’t just rock up and get ourselves annihilated. But if things should go south, then we need to have a contingency plan, so we can escape. Our primary goal is to try to avoid a confrontation and as we explained in the mission documents, it’s highly unlikely that we would need to fire a single shot.”
The Admiral nodded. “But if we do?”
Sean sat forward again in his seat, his composure regained. He tapped his holo and brought up some slides in the holoscreen at the center of the table. “This is plan A,” he announced. The screen showed a formation of ships, and a sequence evolving over time.
Kitcher interrupted with a wave of his finger. “Of how many plans?”
“We have four contingencies. Let’s go through them one at a time and make sure you’re happy with all of them.” Sean dug into the details, thankful that although he hadn’t had any idea of the sheer size of the ships, at least he had been prepared for the numbers and how to arrange them.
Workshop, Safe House Basement, Gaitune-67
Several hours later Pieter sat in the workshop as Brock worked solidly on adapting their shields for an expanded frequency.
“I wish I’d know about this possibility sooner,” he grumbled, pausing only a moment to rub his fingers into his forehead before continuing to fiddle with the control box.
“I know,” Pieter agreed. “Giles only mentioned it as a possible gotcha the other day, and I didn’t realize that there was anything we could do about it until earlier.”
“I know. It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just… all a little much, you know.” Brock sat back on his stool, allowing his eyes to focus on the far wall for a moment to rest his eyes from the detailed work.
“It’ll be fine,” Pieter reassured him. “We’ll all be fine.”
Just then Trev’or came down the steps. “Ah, there you both are.” He looked at Brock fiddling with the control box. “Still working?”
The Ascension Myth Box Set Page 219