26
A group of four Woghort guards, each wearing armor and carrying energy pikes, met Scrope and his two escorts at the spaceport. Woghorts were the same height as an average human, but every part of them—legs, arms, chest, neck—was twice as thick. That, along with their wart-covered skin and enormous upturned noses, made them appear less human than they acted.
The two Llyushin pilots, one on either side of Scrope, began to reach for their blasters. The Woghorts were known across the galaxy for their bad tempers and appetite for fighting. Seeing four of them with energy pikes was enough to make any soldier move his index finger toward his blaster’s trigger.
“It’s fine,” Scrope said under his breath to his escorts as he offered a giant smile for the guards.
To ensure they did as he said, he casually let his hands drift away from his side and lightly rest on either man’s wrist. Anyway, a pair of blasters against four energy pikes was like a pair of old fashioned swords against four Meursault blades; better to avoid the confrontation at all costs than to die in a matter of seconds.
“Take a look around you,” he told the two Llyushin fighter pilots, smiling in a way that looked like he was posing for a vacation photo.
Rather than being on an exotic beach, however, they were surrounded by a containment field that maintained the artificial atmosphere needed to keep everyone alive. Inside the protective field, there were plants, trees, and even a small lake. Outside the colony, though, explosions boomed all across the horizon as the planet’s gases reacted with the lightning storms.
Sure that the pilots saw what he had wanted them to see, Scrope added, “That’s where Arc-Mi-Die sends people after he’s done torturing them. So let’s not annoy his guards, okay?”
The two pilots let their hands drop back down to their sides.
Once they were in range of using the energy pikes, the four Woghorts stopped.
“Why are you here?” one of them asked with a snort.
Even an arm’s reach away, Scrope detected the other characteristic they were known for. Doing his best to ignore the stench of filth, he smiled once more.
“Listen,” the Llyushin pilot to Scrope’s right said, not liking the way they were addressing one of Edsall Dark’s most prestigious politicians.
But before the pilot could say anything else, two of the energy pikes burst into a glow of faint blue light. With a blink, the tips of both weapons were an inch away from either side of the man’s neck. Another movement and the pilot’s head would be sliced from the rest of his body. The other two guards left their energy pikes off, but didn’t stop staring at the man to Scrope’s left, daring him to do or say something.
Scrope smiled and slowly raised his hands, palms out, to let the guards know he was sorry for any rudeness. “We are here as emissaries of Vere CasterLan,” he said. “She seeks Arc-Mi-Die’s help, as his reputation for war precedes him.” To his own men, he said, “Trust me, this will all be fine. Just stay calm and don’t say or do anything and we’ll be okay.”
The fiery storms continued all around the colony’s transparent containment wall. Every second a new explosion could be heard, followed immediately by the eruption of flames on a new part of the grey terrain.
“These two,” one of the guards said, referring to Scrope’s escorts, “will remain here.”
The pilot with the energy pikes on either side of his neck said, “Listen here, that’s no way to—” The guards twitched their hands and the pilot went silent, his head falling to the ground with a thud. A moment later, the pilot’s body tilted backward, then also crashed to the ground.
“Don’t move and don’t talk,” Scrope said to his other pilot. “I’m going in there alone. I’ll be fine. Wait for me here.”
The other two Woghorts continued to stare at the second Llyushin pilot, hoping for him to make a move so they too could be fortunate enough to kill someone that day. Instead, the pilot remained perfectly still and mute, not even blinking.
“My apologies for him,” Scrope said to the guards, his eyes motioning toward the headless man on the ground.
“This way,” one of the guards huffed.
Without any further introductions, the four Woghorts turned and led Scrope toward the warlord Arc-Mi-Die’s stronghold, leaving the second pilot standing next to the head and body of his companion.
27
Sitting in the cockpit of the Pendragon, Morgan and Pistol went for long periods without talking. It wasn’t personal. Morgan was grateful to have the time to think about all the possible ways the battle between the Vonnegan and CasterLan fleets might unfold, and she knew Pistol was the only person who didn’t care about carrying on conversations just for the sake of hearing himself talk.
One of the few times she had tried to carry on some semblance of small-talk with him, she had asked if he had any additional information on how the moon and the surrounding area might be used to their advantage.
His response had been, “My calculations were complete the last time you asked. I provided all known information. Would you like me to run another assessment?”
“No, thank you.”
After that, they had fallen back into silence.
The android didn’t function the same way as humans, not just biologically, but also neurologically. Morgan could have had an epiphany at any time, rooted out of a long forgotten lesson learned at the academy, of how the Solar Carriers could ambush the Athens Destroyers. There was no telling when it might happen or what her mind might come up with. But Pistol and other androids like him could only assess what they were told to assess. When that was done, they waited for their next command. There was no spontaneity or bursts of insight.
Looking at the barren desert moon in front of them, he had said all there was to say. That meant that if either of them were going to come up with some extraordinary plan of attack to defeat an army three times the size of their own, it was going to be up to Morgan.
She thought about all the battles she had studied before graduating and becoming an officer in the CasterLan military. If she tried to cloak her fleet by shutting off all power systems, the way Issac the Wise had hundreds of years earlier, would the Solar Carriers catch the Vonnegan fleet by surprise, or would they all be destroyed before they could power their shields back on? If the latter happened, the battle would be over before it could ever begin. If she sent the Solar Carriers to the far side of the moon, protecting them from the Athens Destroyers, would Mowbray’s generals be foolish enough to send only a few ships around to flush her out, thus presenting a more manageable detachment of forces to battle? Bastion the Inept had fallen for that maneuver a long, long time ago during the Battle of Three Suns. Maybe Mowbray would make the same mistake, although she doubted as much.
An indicator started flashing in her ship. When she looked down, she saw that a series of vessels were approaching. Rather than the Vonnegan fleet coming at her, she saw a trio of Solar Carriers, along with a horde of smaller support ships and an escort of Llyushin fighters. Behind the Solar Carriers, being towed across the solar system from Edsall Dark, was the newly constructed portal.
She and Pistol watched the procession in silence. Without the portal being activated, without its pure energy, she couldn’t see it until the Solar Carriers were large enough to begin blotting out some of the stars in the distance. A few minutes later, when the Solar Carriers were close enough that she could see their individual cannons arrayed along either side of the ship, she could also make out the delicate portal ring.
The captain of the lead Solar Carrier radioed to Morgan, asking where exactly she wanted the portal placed around the moon.
“Any suggestions?” she asked Pistol. “Any place better than any other place?” When the android only shook his head, Morgan radioed back, “Wherever you want.”
The three Solar Carriers turned slightly, then slowed down, gently tugging the portal’s skeleton into position. When the captain was satisfied, he released the tow line that had bro
ught the newly manufactured portal across from one part of the CasterLan Kingdom to another. The other Solar Carriers did the same a moment later.
“When should we activate it?” the captain asked, his voice coming through the Pendragon’s cockpit. “The process will take another day, give or take, to get it functioning.”
“Begin now,” she said, watching everything from her ship as it unfolded.
As she and Pistol watched, some of the smaller support vessels began moving toward the portal. Once they were in position, five teams of crewmen in space armor exited the vessels and began drifting in space toward the metal ring. There were five members in each team, each with a modified suit of space armor that allowed them to perform the delicate work of getting the portal activated. Each team moved toward a separate cylinder. There, they opened bags of equipment, setting up pouches, charges, and wires at each one. When they were done, they moved to another cylinder, and would keep doing the same thing until they had prepared each of the three hundred and sixty units.
In approximately twenty-four hours, she was going to see something she had never seen before. It was something that happened so infrequently across the galaxy that she doubted many living humans had witnessed it. No matter how long ago Pistol had been manufactured, he probably hadn’t seen it either. A new portal being activated. Two different parts of the galaxy being connected by one point of energy.
“I guess this will be something to cross off my bucket list,” Morgan said.
Pistol, trying to follow the courteousness written into his programming, said, “If the Vonnegan fleet destroys every last one of us, at least you can say you saw this before you die.”
The fact that his behavioral software told him to add a polite smile after the socially awkward comment made Morgan groan. If she hung around exclusively with the android for much longer she might actually start missing real people.
28
Peto’s Llyushin Transport and the pair of fighters escorting him entered the far corner of the WhoReck sector. The asteroid belt there was populated with mining colonies that had been taken over by pirates after it was discovered that beneath the layers of valuable minerals there were pockets of rare gases even more precious than stones and metals. Since then, the WhoReck mining colonies were constantly under siege by one warlord or another, one group of space pirates or another. Ever since the rare gases were first discovered there, it was the one place in the galaxy where violence and war were continuous.
“You really think they’d contribute part of their army to support our cause?” one of the pilots said.
It was a fair question. The current ruler of the WhoReck asteroid belt was constantly being attacked by other gangsters and thugs. It wouldn’t make sense for him to devote any of his warships to fight in a battle that didn’t center around him holding onto the treasured resources under his command.
A squadron of ships, no two alike, came racing toward them from the surface of one of the asteroids.
“We are here representing Vere CasterLan,” Peto said into the comms system of his ship.
None of the vessels coming toward him responded.
“What should we do?” his transport pilot asked.
Peto looked at the pilot, then spoke into the comms system again: “We are here on a diplomatic mission. We mean no harm. All we request is a meeting with Your Excellency.”
Still, the ten ships continued speeding toward Peto and his two Llyushin escorts.
“Maybe there’s a code we’re supposed to provide or something,” his pilot said.
“Sir? How do you want us to proceed?” one of the Llyushin fighter pilots asked across the comms.
Before Peto could answer, alarms began sounding within the transport’s cockpit. He started to ask what they indicated, but the Llyushin fighter to his left exploded into flames, answering his question before the pilot could. A barrage of laser blasts came toward them from the mining colony’s ten warships.
“We are on a peaceful mission!” Peto yelled into the ship’s comms.
The transport pilot threw the controls forward, taking the ship into a nosedive. The Llyushin fighter pilot was beginning evasive maneuvers of his own. And still the laser blasts came at them.
“We are here as representatives of Vere CasterLan,” Peto yelled into the ship’s comms. “We are here on a peaceful mission.” When there was no pause in the laser blasts, he told the pilot to get them out of there.
As the transport turned to leave, a trio of laser blasts rocked the ship, throwing Peto into a corner of the cockpit. Out the edge of the cockpit windows, he saw the second Llyushin fighter take just as many hits. One of its armor panels blew off. One of its wings was barely attached. Then another laser blast hit it and the wing was completely gone.
As soon as they were flying away from the mining colony, the laser blasts stopped.
“Should we turn around?” Peto asked. “Do you think they realized they made a mistake?”
The transport pilot gripped the steering controls as tightly as he could to keep his hands from shaking. In the most even voice he could manage, he said, “I think if we turn around they’ll just start firing again.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
The warlords were all so accustomed to being under attack that they no longer gave approaching ships a chance to employ whatever trickery or sneak attack they had in mind. Anyone who approached the mining colony would either die or, if they had enough warships with them, would become the new ruler of the WhoReck asteroid belt. There was no other option here. Rule or be ruled.
He should have known better than to come here at all. The remains of one of the Llyushin fighters, travelling through space with one of its wings gone, told him that much. The dead Llyushin pilot told him that as well, but it also told him something else. Not only didn’t they have any forces willing to help them fight the Vonnegan empire, they now had one fewer pilot of their own to carry on the battle.
29
The second time Baldwin and Quickly went out to investigate the Excalibur, they ignored the ships protruding from the rock and focused on the craters left behind when someone tampered with a ship, setting off the hidden sensor and causing it to self-destruct.
“You’ll be fine here by yourself again?” Baldwin said to Fastolf before they departed.
Fastolf lay on his back with his feet propped up on the table in front of him. From where Baldwin and Quickly stood, Fastolf’s belly blocked the rest of his upper body from being visible.
“I have everything I need,” he said, the sound of intoxicated joy in his voice. Baldwin knew of only one thing that ever made the man that happy.
“Don’t drink too much,” he said.
Fastolf laughed.
Not only was Baldwin able to assemble his space armor faster the second time, he was also able to put on more pieces of the suit without help. When the armor was completely on, Quickly clipped the final two clasps.
“Ready?”
Baldwin nodded. “Ready.”
The two of them headed for the rear hatch.
Baldwin’s legs buckled when he stepped out from the platform and set foot on the asteroid. Quickly was an arm’s length away, ready to grab him if he started to panic. Without saying anything, the physician took a deep breath, then looked around at the array of ships sticking out of the asteroid in front of him and also at the expanse of space above, behind, and on either side of him.
“Might as well get it out of the way,” he said. “If I didn’t acknowledge it, I’d keep freaking myself out, knowing what was out there.”
“Fair enough, buddy.”
Baldwin exhaled slowly. His heart rate was elevated, but not to the point that he should be worried, and the fact that he was thinking clearly enough to process this information was also a good sign.
On a clear Edsall Dark night, the view of the sky was an amazing thing to see. The infinite array of stars. The pair of moons, both of which varied in color depending on the
position of Edsall Dark’s sun. It was a view he would enjoy for the rest of his life. After the safety of his friends and family, knowing he would be able to look up and see that very sight was one of the main reasons he hoped the Vonnegan army could be defeated.
From space, however, the same view went from awe inspiring to intoxicating in its grace. The same assortment of stars he saw from Edsall Dark and from within a ship’s cockpit looked close enough to reach out and grab.
“Are you okay?” Quickly asked. When he didn’t get an answer, he tapped on Baldwin’s shoulder. The last thing he needed was a repeat of the panic attack from the previous day.
Baldwin blinked back into the present moment, realized he was standing on an asteroid that might be their only hope for victory and that they were running out of time.
“I’m fine,” he said, snapping out of his enchantment. “You know, it’s actually quite beautiful once you get used to it.”
Quickly smiled and said, “For my money, there’s nothing more spectacular in the entire galaxy than being out here amongst the stars.”
Although Baldwin seemed more comfortable walking across the asteroid’s surface than before, Quickly still let him lead the way. That way, he could always keep an eye on the physician and grab a hold of him if need be.
They passed through a long expanse of rocky mounds and crevices before coming upon a crater the size of a Solar Carrier.
“My god,” Baldwin said, “I’ve been on colonies that were smaller than this.”
Unlike naturally occurring craters that were caused by meteors and space debris, the crater caused by the exploding Excalibur ship was perfectly smooth. If they hadn’t known that the explosion had killed all of the workers who were trying to excavate the ship from the asteroid, Baldwin would have guessed that a giant machine had scooped up a portion of the rock and let it slide away. And yet, as powerful as the blast had been—enough force to destroy everything nearby and eliminate any sign of the Excalibur ship—the area to either side of the crater was undisturbed.
The Excalibur (Space Lore Book 2) Page 11