"Captain, I'm picking up a deep-space quantum signal," Officer Arisha’s voice cut the silence. "I didn’t want to disturb you, sir, but it’s a Confederation signal."
He welcomed the assistant’s interruption.
"Strange. Do you know who it is?"
"I can’t tell, sir, but they somehow have your private channel on the North Star."
Must be Admiral Axton.
Grimshaw had forgotten he’d sent the Admiral his channel before fleeing the Sentinel.
"Patch it through to the QR room," he said swinging his feet off the bed. "Tell them I’m on my way."
"Processing the data now…sir."
The link cut, and Grimshaw exited his quarters, making his way to the QR unit. He couldn’t help but noticed her reluctance in addressing him as sir. Not that he could blame her. The whole arrangement was unconventional. No, bizarre was a more accurate description. Never had Shanti and humans served together on a military vessel. Yet, here they were, tossed together amidst galactic turmoil. With a handful of Zaqarans and a space monkey added to the mix, they made up one of the strangest crews Grimshaw had ever heard of…if not the strangest.
Despite being almost half his age, Vaun Arisha outranked him by Aegi standards. He had to admire her willingness to adapt to such a change in command structure. The same went for the rest of the Shanti officers. They made up a third of the crew and had caused little trouble. It was a shame the same couldn’t be said for their human counterparts. Grimshaw had heard there was some dissension surrounding Eline’s command. Lieutenant Dann had taken care of matters, but Grimshaw made it a point to address the crew on that point himself. They just had to get the mission out of the way first.
They weren’t a Confederation outfit, and they certainly weren’t a Shanti one either. Despite the Shanti talking about establishing a new Aegi Order, it had been officially disbanded by the Galactic Council, its resources redistributed to other endeavors. So that was also off the table. No. They were a renegade crew on a renegade ship with a renegade mission, and the Confederation didn’t take that kind of thing lightly.
Going renegade carried the death sentence, and that was before considering the so-called crimes they committed on the Sentinel.
Admiral Axton would probably use that against him. He hadn't been as helpful as Grimshaw had expected in their previous communications regarding developments on the Galactic Council. If he’d taken Grimshaw’s concerns seriously and gotten the Confederation more invested in the Chimera threat at the time, perhaps events on the Sentinel would have panned out differently. Then he’d not be flying straight into the clutch of a runaway Kragak fleet. But, there was no use in crying over spilled milk.
His boots clacked as he descended the metal steps onto the primary operations deck. He headed towards the bridge and turned into a recess where another set of steps led deeper into the ship’s bowels.
He ducked under an archway into the QR room and reached for the control platform’s terminal. The spherical room was about the size of a cabin. The control platform and its rail took up a little less than a third. The rest was dedicated to the holocast projection platform.
Grimshaw accepted the incoming signal and the countless tiny holocaster projection units on the walls flashed to life.
A multitude of pin-wide beams scattered across the dark void before weaving together to create the vague outline of a man. The holocast grew sharper as more lights converged, lending weight, and even a sense of presence, to Admiral Axton’s form.
The Admiral was a stout man who carried himself in a way befitting of the surname his subordinates used when they thought he wasn’t listening: The Iron Hill.
He wore a decorated Admiral’s uniform with a full Confederation crest lung across his chest with a rope of gold. A white mustache jutted from under his nose like straight handles. His calculating eyes took in Grimshaw and the QR room. He appeared much older than Grimshaw remembered, but it had been almost two decades since he’d seen the Admiral. He must have been approaching his one-sixties.
"Grimshaw!" he exclaimed in surprise. "By gods, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for months. It’s good to see you again, son."
"You’ll have to forgive our having to lay low, Admiral."
"It’s a pity you couldn’t make it to the ceremony for the Bakura, Grimshaw. They erected a monument in honor of those who lost their lives. They put up a statue of you, Evans, and…" His words trailed off as though he caught himself. "Well, they’ve since pulled those statues down."
"I’m glad the Confederation did right by the crew of the Bakura. But I get the feeling you’re here to talk to me about the reason those statues were pulled down. It wouldn’t, by any chance, have something to do with the tall tale the Galactic Council is spinning, would it?”
"Yes." The Admiral’s countenance suddenly grew more serious. "The news channels harped on about your hijacking of Project Zero for months."
"I prefer to call it escaping from my enemies."
"You admit to taking the vessel, though?"
"I admit to doing what I had to do, to save my crew."
"And saving your crew included the murder of Admiral Foster and the attempted murder of several Galactic Council Ministers?"
"What is this? A judicial hearing?" Grimshaw snapped. "I had nothing to do with the Admiral’s death. I tried to save him and those ungrateful Minister bastards. If the Confederation afforded the situation more than a cursory glance, they’d see that for themselves. But I guess they’d rather believe the propaganda."
It took everything Grimshaw had not to reveal his plan of exoneration.
"I believe you, son. I had to hear it for myself is all. I’ve known you since the end of the Kragak War, but just because I’ve been playing this game most of my life doesn’t mean it’s gotten any easier. It never gets easy. You saw that for yourself on the Sentinel."
"Forgive me, Admiral. I meant no disrespect. I’ve got a lot on my plate, and much of it is as a result of the Confederation’s reluctance to answer my call for help."
"No need to apologize, son. It’s a sorry state of affairs all around. Your being branded as terrorists has created a great deal more than the usual tension between the Galactic Council and the Confederation. Fleet have put a warrant out for your arrest. They want a court-martial. But you probably know that already."
Grimshaw nodded. "It’s protocol."
"I tried calling them off, you know. Tried speaking some sense into the powers-that-be. But with pressure from the Galactic Council Ministers…"
"I understand, sir. We both find ourselves in precarious positions."
"The Confederation board would have me convince you to attend the hearing, but I know better. Though, if you ever chose to do so, you have my support. Some here still believe in you, Captain. Some still remember the part you played in ending the war.”
"You can tell the board that I appreciate the offer but that I am otherwise engaged. And cleaning up a mess they helped create no less. Perhaps leave that last part out."
Axton’s lips curled in a half-smile. "I’m tempted to include it if only to see the look on their sour faces."
"How are things back home, Admiral?"
The Admiral sighed. "I wish I had good news, but things are so dire even you’re low on the Confederation’s list of priorities."
"We haven’t had a chance to connect to the Galactic Network in a while." Grimshaw decided it best to gloss over detailing the attack outside the Shroud. Just because he had known the Admiral for decades didn’t mean he could trust the man. "What happened?"
"The Confederation would kill me if they found out I told you. They’re trying to keep it under wraps, but this transmission is encrypted." Admiral Axton swallowed all the same. "Three of our colonies on the Fringe went dark a few weeks back."
Grimshaw gasped. "They were attacked?"
"We can’t tell for sure, but it’s the most likely conclusion."
"And 115?"
; The Admiral shook his head. "One of the three. The Confederation and Outer Systems have never seen eye to eye, but we’ve sent reconnaissance ships to check it out. G-Gate Alpha being down doesn’t help matters."
"The gate still hasn’t been repaired?”
"Oh, it has been," Axton growled. "But its reopening languishes under mountains of bureaucracy. I don’t know why, but I suspect whoever is pulling the strings is using it to delay help for the Outer Systems. Our ships made it through Krag space without running into any of those bastards, so that’s something. They should arrive any day now, but there’s no telling what they’ll find. I don’t suppose you happen to be out that way?"
Grimshaw concealed his surprise at the mention of the Kragak.
"Afraid not, sir. And we have errands of our own."
"If you get a chance when you’re done with those errands, perhaps you can take a look."
"I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do."
"That’s all I can hope for at this point, Grimshaw. Thank you. When word gets out that we have no idea what’s going on, we’ll have a lot of angry people on our hands, and things are already bad enough with supply routes being interrupted. Having an explanation, at the very least, will be useful.”
"Won’t the Sentinel send assistance? They already promised help for 115. What about the Shanti?"
"The Council reversed their decision shortly after you fled. Talks between the Galactic Council and the Confederation broke down quickly. We’ve tried to get things rolling again, but they aren’t playing ball. They’ve branded the Confederation as enemies of the Sentinel and demand that we hand you over should we wish our relationship to continue. As far as we know, Minister Foster still holds power, but he refuses to answer our communications. We’ve approached the Shanti, but they’re tangled up in that foolish civil war of theirs.” The Admiral squinted like he was holding something back.
"Why do I get the feeling you haven’t told me everything?"
"Several explorer-class vessels have reported sightings of strange black ships near Alpha Centauri…like the one you described in your report on Colony 115."
"The Aphnai."
"I believe so, but convincing the board to look into it has been worse than pulling teeth. We don’t have any other information beyond the sightings. The ships tend to flee when approached or hailed."
"They could be snooping on us. Checking what we have."
"I hope you’re wrong, son. The last thing we need is another problem to juggle…and so close to home to boot. I’d never say it in public, but the president is already at his wit’s end."
Grimshaw ran a hand through his hair. "I know how he feels."
"Speaking of President Sherman, something else you might want to know about. Shortly after the incident on the Sentinel, a Tal’Ri emissary vessel showed up at Confederation HQ on Earth. Same thing happened on Mars, Proxima, and others. They claim they’re here to offer council until G-Gate Alpha get up and running again. My intelligence guys are still trying to work out what they really want, but two of them have been stuck to the president like leeches ever since they arrived."
"Strange that they show themselves after being aloof for so long."
"Tell me about it. The bastards spend forever hiding in the shadows. The next thing we know, they’re crawling all over the shop like ants."
"It’s hard to tell for sure, but from what little I’ve gathered, the Tal’Ri are having issues of their own. There was mention of an uprising on their homeworld, but I’ve been shot down any time I try to get more info."
Grimshaw decided to share some information. "A few days back a small fleet of Tal’Ri and Chimera ships attacked us."
The Admiral’s eyes widened. "You can’t be serious? That’s in violation of a dozen different treaties, even if you have gone renegade."
"Those Tal’Ri who showed up might be more of a threat than you think."
"Could be. I’ll keep a close eye on them." Admiral Axton folded his arms. "You know, it could be the pressure, but the president has been acting strange lately."
The Aphnai brain bug sprang to mind. "What do you mean by different?"
"I can’t put my finger on it…He seems a bit more forthright than usual. But it’s more than that."
"Listen, Admiral. There’s something you need to know."
Admiral Axton’s form disintegrated before clumping together again as the projection lights shifted.
"Captain? What’s…on? You’re…king up."
"Admiral, can you hear me? It’s important that I—"
The lights shifted again and Axton’s fluttering form fizzled out of existence.
Grimshaw pounded the control panel and opened a channel to the bridge. "Arisha, what happened to the signal?"
"I was about to contact you, Captain. I think it’s better you come see for yourself."
18
The Refinery
Taza held onto the rails as the moving platform sped between sky-rises, the warm air whipping at his face. He watched as buildings and air-traffic zoomed by, wondering at how much work had gone into building such a city inside a Priodome.
The city was on par with the most advanced tech Taza had seen in Sentinel space and maybe even the Galaxy. It helped that they had an abundant supply of tridarium.
He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of threat the Shroud systems would pose to the Galactic Alliance were ships able to freely cross through the nebula’s deadly storms.
He could count on one had the number of worlds that had similar advancements to Priodome One. The Tal’Ri were likely more advanced, but no human had been allowed inside Tal’Ri space let alone on one of their planets.
No doubt the Omnion had a large part to play, likely helping the Ushtarans to advance their technology so that they could better extract tridarium from Ushtar’s mines…and use it for andamonium production. In reality, the Ushtarans were glorified slaves, and so that pattern continued between them and the Chan.
Taza suspected that the latter had done most of the work in building Priodome One.
He looked to his right and caught Ria ogling him again. She quickly averted her gaze as red colored her cheeks.
Aldo stood guard at the back of the platform, watching traffic as it passed, as though still expecting trouble. Taza got the feeling that wasn’t the only thing he was watching.
Viceroy Eldi had sent him to keep an eye on Taza more than anything else.
The city below thinned and gave way to a flat plane that stretched for miles around the Refinery’s base.
Taza had assumed space inside a dome would be at a premium. "Why don’t they build around the Refinery?"
"It’s too dangerous," Ria said. "Sometimes, sections fall off and crash to the ground below." She pointed to one particularly large discolored patch on the side of the building. "The repair teams install new external panels every day. But by the time they finish one part, another will have fallen into poor maintenance."
"Surely the panels wouldn’t fall all the way across that space," he said, noting the distance.
Ria nodded. "Though it looks flat from all the way up here, the ground is uneven for miles around the Refinery. The rock-bed is veined with tridarium. Not enough worth processing, but enough to make clearing and flattening the land impractical. And there are other dangers."
She turned away, as though embarrassed by the last sentence.
"The Refinery process uses many dangerous chemicals," Aldo butted in before Taza could quiz Ria about what she meant. "It would be dangerous to build too close."
The platform slowed as it drifted under the foreboding shadow of the giant cube. As they drew closer, the Refinery’s surface was nowhere near as smooth as it appeared from afar.
Cranes hung from the face of the structure as they loaded and unloaded supplies. Repair machines crawled across vast sections, sparks flying as they fixed loose panels and other broken things. Support beams and other objects jutted from the surface
, making broad stretches appear irregular and patchy. The closer they got, the more jagged and uneven it appeared. It was so unlike the other buildings in the city one could be forgiven for thinking that it had been built separately.
It suddenly occurred to Taza that perhaps it had been.
"That is possibly the biggest building I have seen on any planet, much less inside a dome. And something tells me it’s much older than it looks."
"The cube was built thousands of years ago," Ria answered, as though enjoying the opportunity to share her knowledge. "We aren’t sure who built it, but it is believed that an ancient Ushtaran civilization once lived here, before the Dark Age."
He hadn’t heard of this so-called Dark Age before, but most established planets had at least one.
A sound that seemed out of place caught his attention. He had to strain his ear to home in on it. It sounded like a chanting crowd.
He moved to the rail next to Ria and peered below.
On one of the broader platforms, hundreds of Chan milled about crying words he couldn’t make out at that distance.
"What are they demonstrating for?"
"They want better payment for their work. More rations. A safer working environment. That kind of thing."
"We’ve already given you ungrateful animals more than your fair share,” Aldo spat. “You would all be extinct if we hadn’t shown your ancestors hospitality when they first arrived on Ushtar."
"Pah," Ria said. "If only such hospitality, if that’s what you want to call it, were extended to us now. Instead, we’re forced to slave for you even when we might die."
"It was an accident," Aldo seethed. "Accidents happen."
"An accident that could have been avoided if the team hadn’t been pushed so hard."
"There was an accident?" Taza asked, his curiosity piqued.
"A recent explosion inside Refinery Chamber Four killed dozens of Chan and several Ushtarans. Many more suffered horrible injuries. An old valve failed. The maintenance crew missed it due to their unrealistic schedule."
The Galactic Sentinel: Ultimate Edition: 4 Books with 2000+ Pages of Highly Entertaining Sci-Fi Space Adventure Page 89