Tethered Worlds: Blue Star Setting
Page 25
Pheron looked up, hearing an unusual bridge noise.
Singing?
Nels was swaying in his station couch, seeming even more drunk than when he had arrived. Pheron would have been more alarmed if there were anything for the officer of the watch to do. He gave a lot of leeway to his downtrodden crew, but this was too much.
"It was a long, long run," Nels sang, almost incomprehensibly, "through blue star and Centurion. On secret course through roiling 'Vex, to beyond where resided Ajurian rest. Sojourners of old chased down our wings, but in retreat we glimpsed Solitar's rings."
He was butchering a crewman's ditty as old as the war about a doomed squadron's mythical mission to pursue the Sojourners.
The off-duty vet was already moving toward Nels. "I'll take care of it, sir," he said. "Cobelli to the bridge." Putting his arm underneath Nels, he walked him up to the hatch. "Sorry, sir, it won't happen again."
The hatch opened, and Cobelli was already there, quickly taking the watch station. Apparently, Nels's condition had been known and prepared for. As the vet carried him away, Pheron heard the final, sloppily delivered verse.
"We tell this tale, a warning for all, seek not the territory beyond your call."
Pheron sagged in his chair when no one was looking. His crew, and likely those on the other frigates, were falling apart. He placed Aetaire's note back in the diplomatic packet and triggered the tamper. In a flash, the pulper was destroyed, but the message lingered in his mind.
A notice pinged. The leave schedule was posted. The station in system was neither big nor fancy, but it was different. To those on smaller vessels like frigates, a visit to even such a rundown place was prized. So it was no surprise the entire frigate squadron was denied leave.
Jordahk threw the heavy object hard. It flew across the bay without arc. With enhanced strength and ligaments from Aristahl's ravelen, it was a feat professional athletes of ages past would have envied. It struck the intended target, a half-meter metal sheet, which resounded like a gong.
Jordahk was used to long trips. He had accompanied his parents on dozens over the years as they accepted gigs to train various groups in small arms and personal security. They often found innovative ways to hone their skills enroute, especially where there were open areas and opportunity.
"Max, pick up the speed another twenty percent if I hit this whole series." Max was running the metal sheet through a series of maneuvers at the end of the cargo claw.
His time with Khai since leaving the Palisades was comfortable. Although they had yet to resonate together at the same level as their infamous tag match, they had started the Pankido rings again. Something special happened when they touched skin to skin, and not the usual sensation associated with boys and girls who had more than a passing interest in each other.
Okay, maybe in addition to the usual sensation...
Something empowering he didn't understand. They spent much time in the bay together, but it was rarely scheduled and usually under the auspices of a casual meeting. He set up a number of exercises that challenged their balance, climbing ability, and various other skills. He jokingly called them "ninja tests." Invariably, she won when it came to balance, and usually at climbing. She learned incredibly fast, displaying a skill-set beyond what one young girl should know.
But her inordinate, varied abilities didn't translate to emotions, where she seemed reserved and cool. Perhaps she was covering inexperience and protecting herself. He was careful around her, not letting excitement from any of their activities get too high. It was good practice for him, too, as he overcame his own emotional hurdles. Why could he not be more like Aristahl?
On the way out from Castellum, they had passed the memorial war beacon next to the remains of a demolished planet. He didn't know any details about the infamous incident aside from public record. He asked Aristahl but didn't even get the typical nebulous answer. His grandfather refused to engage on the topic. But Jordahk was getting the hang of the knowledge game they played. If it was something important, or rather something important he had to know right away, the information would be shared, either by Aristahl or his mysterious data construct Ohrias.
He threw another metal nodule, hitting the sheet again. There were plenty of nodules, seeing as they were the raw materials to feed the mystic forge, which was located just off the bay. He had seen Aristahl working at it, helping Alb-Sone replace parts, and trying to restore his pet ladybug espy, which had let itself get burned down last year protecting him. Jordahk didn't focus much on his grandfather's eccentricities. If the little spy was important to him, it was important to him. Max was important, and Jordahk had gone, unwittingly, to dangerous lengths to restore him.
It wasn't a matter of making another ladybug espy. Aristahl had the template for those little mystic devices. Rather, it was trying to restore its heroic, mini-personality. So far that had proved elusive. Considering the jolt it had received, Jordahk wasn't surprised.
He hefted another nodule, a hexagonal disk of platinum. "Classic."
While winding up to throw, the claw holding his target accelerated irregularly. He made an on-the-fly calculation and let his projectile go. Between the acceleration and the unanticipated airfoil effect on the flattened shape, he missed.
"Max, what's with the—"
"It wasn't me. It was an override."
"Honing your skill I see," Aristahl said.
Jordahk had not even heard him enter. Though the scout's hatches were enviably quiet, it still shouldn't have surprised him.
"It's all those training trips with my parents."
"Might I suggest variable acceleration?"
"I think you just more than suggested it," Jordahk said, smiling.
Aristahl watched a drone return a previously thrown ingot to the container. "By the way, I picked up a private comm packet back at Castellum. It seems our fellow shareholder in Platinum Endeavors took the Monte Crest on a run to Raetia."
Jordahk's hand froze halfway to the next ingot. "My hearing must be sub-acute. Did you say Glick took a gig to Raetia?"
"People change, Jordahk. We are shaped by the experiences of life, and its losses."
"But Raetia..."
"These lives we live, they are long enough to give second chances. After a few decades in vigere, some people decide to make a real difference."
"I never thought she'd drop out of manifold space within a light year of that system. Maybe it's a high-paying job. Bring in some much-needed supplies and play tag with a P-Star frigate on a training cruise."
Aristahl's expression was noncommittal. "Perhaps."
"Pops, it would take a revolution and a fleet to make a difference in Raetia. From what my father says, the Vallum Corps isn't interested."
"So it appears." Aristahl said it with a tone of dismissal before reaching into his bag. He removed what looked like a half-sized, metal arrow. "What do you make of this?"
The relic Hunter in Jordahk took over, pushing away, for now, the problems of poor Raetia. He turned it over in his hands. It was clearly a Sojourner piece. It looked to be made of platinum, with numenium and small amounts of other platinum group and noble metals. It felt natural, and bound up.
"Is it under molecular compression?"
"Yes."
A metal arrow, with a metal head and metal fins. Such a simple thing. Yet it was not. Layers upon layers of complexity were built into its construction. Jordahk closed his eyes and tried to sense the arrow's purpose. He kept himself from getting pulled down tangential investigations, and focused on the overall function.
The numenium was the key. It was the newest, strangest, and least understood of the platinum group metals regarding how that family of elements were uniquely manipulated by mystic. He let his mind wander through the general affinities of each metal. Whitish palladium was often associated with mystic medical devices, mirror rhodium with computing and AIs.
Numenium had associations. Well, guesses at associations was more accurate. Some spe
culated it could be used to amplify other properties. It was associated sometimes with the unfathomable workings of the Khromas known as The Spirit. There was definitely a dimensional connection, since it showed up in all Sojourner-made...
"Starkeel!" Jordahk opened his eyes to see his grandfather's subtly impressed expression. "Dard took me down to see a starkeel once when we were traveling to one of our training gigs. It wasn't powered up, of course. I remember being allowed to touch it. It was a strange feeling, hard to explain."
"Go on," Aristahl prodded.
"It was like the keel touched more space than it occupied." Jordahk hesitated. "It was like I could touch more space when in contact."
Aristahl nodded slowly. "Why not hold onto that for a little while?" Jordahk sensed something in his grandfather's purposely casual tone. The brief silence stretched. "It was my father's."
"Your... You mean..."
"That was a long time ago, Jordahk. Many things have changed."
The subtly wistful tone in his grandfather's voice made Jordahk sad, but he did not know why.
"Any luck with your ladybug?
"Restorative mystic tasks of this nature, as you know, require the right tool, specific knowledge, and can be strenuous."
"Which of the three is holding you back?" Jordahk asked.
"Unfortunately, the first two. Hopefully, never the third."
"I thought the forge was the right tool."
"The forge can only do what we tell it, and it needs our help to follow a mystic template. It could make a new personality for the ladybug but knows nothing about restoring one that has been destroyed. Barrister still has some ideas he is calcing up."
The hatch opened, framing Khai, who was clad in her padded, black unitard. Its stripes glowed an opalescent, cool blue, matching the default highlight in her black hair. She had modified the garment. Not only was the back open now, but both of her broad, toned shoulders were exposed, along with polygonal openings cut down the thighs. Jordahk thought she might shy away from putting more holes in the outfit after her previous experience. Then again, perhaps it was Jordahk's own reaction to the previous experience that had spun it out the wrong way.
"I will leave you two to train." Aristahl had that semi-mischievous look in his eye again. He headed for the hatch. "Remember what I said about acceleration."
DOES YOUR FOOD TASTE AS GOOD AS IT USED TO?
Beuker, Western Province, Perigeum
(Gaston Canterbury, Beuker First News, 284/26 14)
It may not be your food-jerk. A recent shipment of supposedly premium, first-generation nutriment stores from Haelan, in the Asterfraeo Territories, has been tampered with. What was received was grade D but edible nutriments for livestock and soil use. Some are accusing the Asterfraeo of duplicitous trade, although the shipment was inspected as genuine when passed through Perigeum Customs.
While inspections can be falsified, there is another possibility. The shipment was routed through multiple stops before delivery. It is possible certain malcontents, with far less integrity than we at Beuker, switched the loads. The governor has launched his own investigation and notified authorities at the Six Sisters. It is well known the Perigeum takes a dim view of such things, as there is abundance for all when we work together.
Recent, unexpected visits from both Regulators and a Perigeum Starmada squadron have left our stores lower than optimum. The mushroom farms have been ordered to harvest everything edible, and the protein vats are increasing their output. We have been informed our fine, homegrown products are more than adequate to bring the substandard shipment up to grade A quality.
Beuker itself, is unaffected, as the shipment was only distributed to the stations, the mine, and HAB rock. The latter should be receiving our upgraded stores within twenty-four hours. In the meantime, this reporter will stay on top of this story until we get the answers we need—and deserve.
Jordahk couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice. "Gaston Canterbury? Here?"
"How the mighty have fallen," Aristahl said.
In the past, he had been one of the most recognizable faces on the Perigeum's premier news network, Confederated Comm. He had spearheaded their coverage at Adams Rush. Perhaps that accounted for his sudden change in venue. The picture he painted at Adams Rush was so positive that when it fell apart, his credibility was shattered. He was fortunate the Perigeum decided not to make him even more of a fall guy, or career advancement would have been the least of his problems.
He had delivered despicably slanted news, and Kord had called him a "shill." Although he wasn't entirely sure what a shill was, he knew it wasn't good. Despite the well-deserved comeuppance, Jordahk almost had pity on a man who had gone from sitting at the king's table to feeding red rails at a live meat facility.
"Beuker is one of the smallest media markets in the entire Perigeum," Barrister said. "They run a single commship to the nearest egressed world on a round trip, so their media updates are at best, twice a month."
They were on the bridge of the scout, examining the dim vista. Gaston Canterbury's VAD added no joy to the view. Apparently he had aged to an unhealthy looking sempai in the year since the Egress Incident. His teeth didn't seem as white, his hair as coiffed, or his suit as perfect.
"That nearest egressed world is no metropolis either," Aristahl said. "Many suspect its egress is placed for strategic reasons only. It relieves unfortunate crews sent on training missions or punishment duty to the garrison at Raetia."
"Confined to their ships and station, never going planetside," Jordahk said. "Sounds like terrible duty." He wondered, not for the first time, why Glick had chosen a run to the beleaguered system. Certainly not nostalgia.
Alb-Sone looked depressed at the sight. The last time he had seen Beuker, it was a free world. How strange it must be for him to be on the wrong side of a border that didn't even exist when he last knew this space.
"This region was never the most desirable or rich," Alb-Sone said. "But it's people were good, and they fought by our side."
Something in his grandfather's expression made Jordahk uncomfortable. The man was so unflappable. It was strange to see something not sit well with him, so it was time for a subject change. He pointed to a small, blue nebula.
"Is that the nova from just before the war?"
"Indeed," Aristahl said.
"Then that blue star near it must be Windermere. Is it just me or does the configuration resemble an arrow?"
The way the nova gas and dust clouds had expanded over 200 years, combined with bright Windermere and a few other beacon stars, gave the undeniable impression of an arrow pointing toward the Asterfraeo.
"What a sign for the people of Beuker to see every night," Max said.
Aside from that one cool spot in the sky, the system was bathed in the warm but dim light of an underwhelming red sun. Beuker Central queried them. After considerable bureaucracy, they received authorization to proceed away from the planet, directly to HAB rock, the center of the system's mineral commerce.
Although Jordahk was curious about visiting the Perigeum world itself, it didn't seem like he was missing much. Beuker had a good magnetic field, gravity, and even frozen water. But it didn't have much atmosphere, and almost nothing in the way of soil. Nor was its rock easily compatible for growing things after pulverization.
Arability terraformation would be pointless unless under domes, and no one was going to spend the coin here for domes. The people of Beuker lived in underground cities according to Barrister's briefing, although "cities" was a generous term for the settlements. Then again, Adams Rush prided itself on its lack of cosmopolitan elements and influence.
Barrister set up an identity for them as prospectors from the Far Worlds. It explained the vintage ship, although not its excellent condition. It was a fitting cover considering khromathyst was one of the few local resources other worlds were willing to buy.
They passed a Perigeum Starmada station on the way to HAB rock. It had the author
ity to subject them to inspection.
"It is little more than a manned spy satellite," Aristahl said. "Undoubtedly onerous duty." An image of a vintage P-Star frigate came up on a bridge VAD. "Their unfortunate compatriots are doing a rather boring patrol and should not return for about thirty-six hours. It is the only official Perigeum Starmada presence in system. Yes, Barrister?"
"They have a comm ship for military use only, and government security boats are moored at HAB rock and in the mining areas beyond."
"Who are they protecting the people of Beuker from?" Khai asked.
She had mostly been watching with wide eyes. The girl was an amazing mix of strangely experienced abilities and naive wonderment that saw almost every experience as something new. It put a little wind in Jordahk's sails.
"I suspect their true role is more akin to warden than protector," Aristahl said.
Khai looked to her uncle, who nodded grimly.
They ate a last meal together before setting out on their quest. The galley was configured to seat them all comfortably. Khai ate with a voracious appetite Jordahk couldn't help but envy. He couldn't even remember having hunger like that. It was a byproduct of his ravelen, and he had resigned himself to accept the good with the bad. But seeing her enjoy a meal, even food not exactly the best tasting, gave him increased appetite for life if not food.
How does she stay so slim? It's got to be all that dense muscle.
He toyed with the idea, again, of asking Aristahl if something could be done about his appetite. But his grandfather was carrying the burden for the entire mission and didn't need unnecessary requests.
"I have kept in touch with contacts here. Actually, proceeding generations of a single contact," Aristahl said. "It was the current one who poured through endless filings allowing us to bypass Beuker and proceed directly to HAB rock."
"Isn't that a big deal?" Jordahk asked. "I mean, don't they monitor everything in the Hex?"