The man leaned away from the table, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Wherever the stars take me. It’s a good gig.”
“That must be fun,” Tarlen said, not sure it was a path he’d choose for himself. But Basel seemed a capable man, larger than life and full of zest.
“You’re friends with some people in high places, aren’t you?” Basel asked, standing when the line at the buffet had dwindled.
Tarlen followed him to today’s dinner offering and picked a few things that looked appetizing. Basel appeared to plop anything on his plate, without any discernment for flavor or characteristics.
“I’ve been lucky enough to draw the captain’s attention.” Tarlen returned to the table with his plate and sat while Basel plodded after him.
“Is that so? So you can get places without anyone really questioning you?” Basel asked, his mouth half-full of something red.
“I guess.”
“Do you want to check out my ship after? She’s a beauty. Had her a decade, and she’s never failed me,” Basel said.
“Didn’t she break down just a couple days ago?” Tarlen asked.
“That’s less of a failure, and more of a hint that I need to care for her better. Lesson learned.” Basel smiled widely, food sticking to his teeth. “What do you say? It would be good for you to see inside a real spacecraft, not this pretentious flying museum.” This garnered the big man a few caustic glances from the table beside them.
Tarlen lowered his head, not wanting to be associated with such talk. “Fine. But please stop talking so loudly.”
Basel laughed and continued eating. Tarlen took another bite and pushed his plate to the side.
By the time they were done, Tarlen noticed it was well past an hour later. Basel had gone for seconds, and Tarlen knew he should have made an excuse to leave. Kriss rarely asked him to hang out after hours, and this could be his one chance… at what, he wasn’t positive, but it felt like she might actually look at him as something other than a… what had she called him? A nerd?
“Right this way, Tarlen my boy. You’ll love the cockpit. I made most of it myself… well, tweaked it, at least.” The hangar door opened, and Tarlen noticed there were no guards stationed there.
The cruiser sat parked at the edge of the hangar, and Tarlen’s curiosity was piqued. If he was going to be in the Concord Fleet, he figured he should have some passable understanding of the different types of carriers around. So far, he was relegated to reading boring history lessons. Spaceships were far more interesting to the teenage boy.
“I’ve made the haul from all corners of Concord space in this baby, and more often than not, I’ve taken her beyond the Border.” Basel arrived at his ship first, and he keyed in a code along the side panel, the ramp lowering with a hiss of steam. Tarlen stepped back to avoid being hit by the thick metal panel, and Basel hopped on before it had settled to the hangar floor. “Come on. I’ll let you sit in the pilot’s seat. That’s my seat, in case you were wondering.”
Tarlen felt a twist in his stomach as he set a boot to the ramp. There was a flicker of tension over Basel’s face, a distortion of his brow, a sniffle of his crooked nose, and Tarlen stopped himself. “I’m actually not feeling well. Maybe another time.”
“What is it? Don’t you want to see this for yourself?” Basel asked, the humor and lightness gone from his thick voice. He began stalking down the ramp, and Tarlen had heard enough. He bolted as fast as he could, arms pumping as he crossed the hangar floor. As he neared the exit, the door sprang open and a guard arrived, late for his station.
“You okay, kid?” he asked Tarlen, and the Bacal boy peered to Basel’s ship. The unusual man lingered near the ramp, watching Tarlen. He lifted a hand, waving amicably, and Tarlen felt he’d saved himself from something insidious.
He considered heading to the courtyard to see Kriss, but he elected to return to his room. Being out on the ship tonight didn’t feel like something he wanted to do.
Seven
“Sorry we cannot be of more assistance, Executive Lieutenant Reeve Daak,” the lead engineer said. Zolin was tall, his face scarred from a terrible accident a decade earlier.
“You’ve let me tour the entire facility, grill your team over and over, and even gave me a snack. You have nothing to apologize for. And please, for the tenth time, call me Reeve. Just Reeve.” She smiled at the man, who nodded.
“I’ll try. We do hope that should the Zilph’i vote to leave the Concord, we might remain in contact with you, Exec… Reeve. Your mind is impressive, one of a kind, really,” Zolin said.
The words hit her hard. They had a sense of finality to them. “I’d prefer we didn’t have to worry about that, Zolin. Do you truly think your people will leave the Concord?”
He paused, appearing to contemplate the question. “I don’t pretend to understand the complexities the delegates have to weigh, but I’ve heard the whispers for the last decade.”
“What do you mean?” Reeve asked.
“This might be a long time coming. The Zilph’i are an ancient people, and a proud race.” Zolin stood closer to her, glancing around to ensure no one was listening. Reeve was sure something important was about to be said. “They’re not pleased with the way things have gone recently.”
“How recently?”
“The past two centuries or so. The Concord used to be a strong, value-driven group, with the Code as the backbone. At this point, it’s infighting and power grabbing more than the old ways. This is not the Zilph’i way.” Zolin gave her a gentle smile.
Reeve hadn’t thought about it along those lines. She let out a sigh, the tension from her shoulders easing slightly. “Honestly, I’ve only been acting from a selfish viewpoint. It all makes sense now.”
“How so?” Zolin asked.
She formed an idea, one that wouldn’t be very popular with the rest of the Concord leadership group. She was confident the admirals and politicians had considered all the options, but there was only one way the Zilph’i were going to stay in the Concord. And they’d brought the Prime-in-Waiting to Leria like a slap in the face.
“Zolin, you’ve been a wonderful host. I appreciate your candor and time. If we’re around long enough, how about I treat you to a few mugs of Vinia?” She changed the subject, and Zolin took the hint.
“Very well. I should like that.” Zolin walked her to the exit, and she saw an open door leading to another bay she hadn’t been shown earlier.
“What’s in there?” she asked.
Zolin stepped between her and the entrance. “Something we’re working on.”
“I’d love to take a peek.” She peered over his shoulder; her curiosity spiked. “Wait, is that the ore from Greblok?” She hadn’t been told where it went, but even from here, she could see the glint of the red metallic ore.
His expression gave betrayed him. She shouldered past Zolin, entering the workspace. There were at least ten Zilph’i at various desks, all of them surrounding a six-foot-tall device in the center of the room. Reeve glanced at each station, trying to determine what it was they were working on. She put the pieces together, Zolin following her around the room, not attempting to stop her.
Reeve’s pulse sped up as she figured it out. “You’re doing it.” Her voice was quiet.
“Yes, we are.”
“How?”
“We’ve been working on building a stable wormhole for five decades, ever since Constantine downloaded the specs from the warship. Before it exploded, that is,” Zolin said.
“Wait… he did what? I had no idea.” Reeve ran a hand over a console, tapping the keys to see the program run a simulation.
“No one did. We were given the task back then. I’d honestly thought they’d forgotten we’d begun the process, until they sent us the ore samples and ordered us to test using this new material,” Zolin said.
“And?” The simulation showed green lights, and she smiled at the scarred man. “This is going to work.”
One of the fe
male scientists stepped to the side, revealing a familiar face. The being clicked a greeting, and Reeve grinned at him. “Yephion, what are you doing here?”
“Greetings, Chief Engineer.” His voice echoed through a speaker around his wrist as it translated. The Statu man appeared stronger, healthier than he had after coming out of cryo freezing. “We’ve been asked to assist the Concord in this venture.”
“Have you been told what we’ll use it for?” Reeve asked the man.
He nodded. “Those are no longer our people, Chief Engineer. They are our enemies. They have wiped out our kind. We seek to regain our home, and the only way to accomplish this is to create a functional wormhole.”
Zolin patted Yephion on the shoulder. “The Statu had the technology to create these folds in space, and now, with the ore from Greblok, we’re confident we have the tools to create our own wormhole.”
“And then what?” Reeve asked. She wasn’t in a hurry to return to their system.
“That’s not up to me. I’m but a scientist and engineer, much like yourself.” Zolin smiled again, but the warmth was gone from it.
This was big news, and she wanted to bring it to the captain, only he was off with Ven somewhere. “I’ll be in touch, Zolin. Yephion, it was nice to see you again. Wish your mate the best.”
Reeve left, anxious to be away from the ore and the building that was creating a tool to alter space travel as they knew it. She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be in a beneficial way.
She tapped her wrist and lifted the speaker to her mouth. It was getting dark outside, and she strode around the courtyard, trying to obtain a secure connection to the captain. “Come on, Baldwin, answer me.” It failed again and again. Wherever the captain was, the communicator wasn’t reaching him. “Daak to Constantine.”
The AI’s voice carried through. “Hello, Executive Lieutenant Daak.”
“Has anyone heard from the captain?” she asked.
“Not that my records show. I’ll attempt to find him now,” Constantine said.
She waited, watching the city as the local star descended past the third hill of Ulia. The homes and businesses in the center of town began coming to life as their lights turned on. She glanced at the time and cursed. She was supposed to have met her brother an hour ago. He hated it when she was late.
“Sorry. I can’t reach him, and his locator isn’t finding him on the surface.” Constantine didn’t sound worried.
“What about Ven?” she asked.
“I tried him as well, with the same results,” Constantine told her.
“Thank you, Con.” She ended the communication and glanced toward the academy at the far end of town.
“Need a lift?” Shengin asked from behind her.
His words broke the silence and startled her. “What are you doing here? Did you wait for me all this time?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “No. I returned to see if you were available. I wanted to… ask you to dinner.”
“Me?” she asked, trying to assess the Zilph’i man.
“Is there anyone else around?” he asked.
“I’m meeting my brother, but I’m sure you’re welcome to join us for some Cronski,” she told him.
“Cronski? You really want to eat that? Not many off-worlders enjoy it,” he said, and she nodded. “I’d love to accompany you. Come.”
She entered his ship again, and keyed a message to her brother, advising him she was on her way to pick him up at the academy.
____________
Ven finished the tale of their trip to Statu space, and the Elders sat in utter silence. His initial nervousness at coming home had nearly passed, but each time Elder Fayle met his gaze, he felt like a child again.
After a minute, Fayle broke the silence that had settled over the room. “That is quite the tale. What do you make of the Statu, Ven?”
He considered the question. “I don’t have enough analysis to make a concrete decision.”
“If you had to make assumptions?” she asked.
Ven glanced at Thomas Baldwin, who was listening with interest. “I would suggest they are few in numbers. The War all but destroyed their population, and they resorted to using slaves to fight against us. They have an innate desire to obliterate us, and I cannot begin to speculate where that notion stems from.
“The Statu will continue to attempt to combat us, and I expect they will arrive in Concord space again some time in the next two decades, perhaps three.”
Elder Fayle leaned forward. “What makes you suggest that timeline?”
“It took them fifty years to make the last wormhole, but I doubt they would have gone that far only to send one ship through,” Ven said.
Baldwin reacted. “They did that to obtain the ore. With the ore, they were expecting faster and more stable wormholes.”
“But I still suspect they would have prepared other wormhole-creating devices in the meantime. We also have no idea if we acquired all of the material from Greblok,” Ven said.
“Sure we did. We had a warship full of it.” Captain Baldwin didn’t seem to buy his theories.
“What if they removed some on a Tuber? We can’t be positive that the remaining warships don’t have some of the ore on them currently,” Ven said. “You asked me to speculate. That is my analysis.”
“Do you think we have to be concerned with the Statu?” the Elder Asho asked, speaking for the first time in over an hour. Ven had never liked the older man. He was rarely pleasant and often demanding.
“Are you asking if the Concord as a whole should be concerned, or if the Ugna should be?” Ven asked, seeking clarification.
The captain frowned. “Is there a difference?”
Elder Asho ignored Baldwin. “Yes. Do you think the Ugna have to fear the Statu returning?”
Ven thought long and hard about this, because the answer was going to be crucial. He was part of Constantine’s crew, but that was fresh, only a few weeks on board, even though they’d been through a lot as a team. But the Ugna were his family.
Thomas was tapping his fingers nervously on the table, and Ven made eye contact with the human. He liked Baldwin. There was something about the man he trusted, and if he thought the Concord needed the Ugna’s assistance, Ven was going to attempt to secure the alliance.
“I do think we have to fear their return. They’re single-minded to the point of desperation. They will stop at nothing to destroy everything we’ve built, and the Concord as well,” Ven said, noting the small upturn of Baldwin’s lips.
Elder Fayle stood. “We shall reconvene on the morrow. Ven, it’s good to have you home. Perhaps we can meet privately to break our fast under the fresh star.”
Ven bowed his head, standing before her. “I would be honored, Elder Fayle.”
The others stood, leaving the two of them alone in the office.
“Ven, I have no idea how that went. What do you think?” Thomas asked him.
“I think they’ll take my warning to heart. I suspect we will gain their assistance as requested,” Ven said. Thomas visibly relaxed at the words.
“I know its personal, but are you going to be okay? En’or. Is that what you were trying to score when you were busted on Nolix?” the captain asked.
Ven walked to the exit, the door sliding open for him. “That is correct.”
Thomas grabbed his arm, holding him back. “I don’t presume to judge you, Ven, but what is En’or?”
Ven led Thomas through the halls, heading for the exit. It was so wonderful, yet frightening to return here. This was the only home he’d known for three decades, but it currently felt so insignificant. Constantine had more people living on it than his entire village, and with the way the trees encircled their town, it seemed cramped, fenced in.
It was dark outside, and glowing fake flames brightened the pathways at the tops of wooden torches. It was the way thousands of years ago, and by the Vastness, nothing was going to let the Ugna alter tradition. Until today. His mother… Elder
Fayle offered more about their people to the captain than he’d ever witnessed before. Was she truly going to share everything with him? Could they tell their secrets to a human?
Since the elder had set the precedent by freely speaking on the subject in front of his captain, Ven decided it was safe to discuss with him. “Come with me, sir.”
There were people walking to and from buildings, and Ven was aware it was the end of the day for their people.
“Greetings, brother Ven. You look well. May the stars guide your way,” Karol said, stopping to bow her head to him.
“And you, Karol. It’s a pleasure to find you in good health.” Ven even dared pass a smile to her, and she brightened at the interaction. He’d known her for so many years, and he found himself jealous at how freely the other races gave themselves to each other. Reeve Daak could light up a room with a joke, and Thomas could set a female’s heart fluttering with a grin. The Ugna rarely mated, and if they did, it was only with strict permission and adherence to the rules.
Before he could say another word, Karol scooted off.
Captain Baldwin watched her as she left, and Ven found himself wishing the man hadn’t seen the interaction. “Nice girl. Quite a looker. Maybe you should ask her to join us for dinner.”
Ven seethed. “I hate to say it, but we don’t operate like that, sir.”
“Come on now, Ven, I saw the way you two…”
“Enough… sir,” Ven said, trying to not let his anger get the best of him. It was a recurring issue since he was a young child, and since he’d left home, he’d kept it under control.
“Whatever you say, Ven. What did you want to show me?” the captain asked, walking forward on the path.
Ven caught up and pointed to the largest building on this side of town. He’d spent countless hours inside, working to hone his skills. The main part of the day was over, but he knew there were bound to be some students inside practicing. Ven was one of those kids, never the fastest to learn or the most apt at many of the talents. What took others weeks to learn had taken him months.
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