HidHop-15

Chapter 15 – Guns, Germs, and Steel[]

<<Next Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter>>

Setting Course and Uneasy Trust[]

Explorer Class JumpShip, SLS Cato
12/29/3051

Oscar and Andrew transited the darkened corridors connecting the many small cells that formed the crew volume of SLS Cato, “We should space the Pilots, Colonel.”
“I am not going to start spacing people. The Mongooses could have killed me but chose not to.”

He held the ‘slick’ (without grenade launcher or bayonet) Mauser 960 rifle tight to his chest as Cordelia and Vince passed on the way to the galley. Cato’s corridors were tight for the larger members of their party like Oscar, but perfectly sized for the slimmer Clanners while being navigable by more average people like Andrew. “We are at War, Colonel. They didn’t kill you or us and now the Scientists have lost a ship because of it.”

“They are teenage girls.”
“They’re not, they just look that way. Each of them is a trained killer.
One of them broke Edgar’s arm before trying to suffocate us all by opening the bay doors. We can’t trust them.”

They paused at one of the many T-intersections that bordered the ‘crew cube,’ “We’re not going to; they are locked in that supply room with two guards for a reason.”
“There are three of them and the door is plastic. They won’t even need a Buster tool to compromise it.”
“I’ll put you on permanent guard duty. You’re big and a trained killer, you can take them all.”
“I’m not sure I can, but if that is what you’d like me to do then so be it, Colonel.”

“Consider it an order, Sergeant.” Oscar saluted and descended through the passage below.

Andrew continued forward and found the Bridge where Jeremi and Lieutenant De Luca worked their consoles. As a Jumpship the Cato only had station keeping thrusters so there was little for a helmsman to do but issue slight corrections to avoid collisions. Navigator Ankur parsed through stellar coordinates within the NavComputer. Both saluted before returning to their work although Florentin kept his eyes on the secured bridge door with his laser pistol at the ready.

Jeremi’s eyes twitched as he ran a compass over the NavScreen, “Colonel, the next jump they were going to execute lies within The Dark Nebula.”

“Are you certain?” Andrew stood beside him as he ran the compass over the NavScreen, it indeed overlapped with the region of space known as The Dark Nebula, one filled with malformed stars spewing out lethal radiation and hazardous orbital objects that commercial spacers avoided.

“I am. I wish I had a COMSTAR Jump Computer to compare it with, but it is noted as a red dwarf system in this entry.”
“Maybe it is where they are hiding their ships,” Colonel Steiner muttered to himself.

“What, sir?”
“Nothing. Plot a course for Wotan when the drive is charged.”
“We don’t know what the conditions are around Wotan, sir.
There could be Clan Combat Vessels at the jump point.”
“Do it for now, Edgar is working on decrypting the communications the Cato has saved in its cache. Wotan is our best bet to reach the FRR otherwise find me a decent star within jump range in that direction.”
Jeremi went back to studying the projected star map with a nod. Andrew stood over Florentin’s console which was presently looking at Cato’s jump sail. “Any problems, Lieutenant?”

“Neg, as one would say. Just keeping the comm array pointed toward Somerset. Planet’s been to quiet.
Are you sure they haven’t noticed our escape?”

“We won’t know, Edgar’s code might have been to good.”
Andrew stood at one of the two armored doors that barred access to bridge without authorization from inside. “Keep the door locked and rotate out in a few hours. Get some rest.”
“Aye Aye, Skipper Steiner.”

Colonel Steiner squinted in the light accentuating the scar over his right eye, then growled, “If you never say that again, that would be great.”

Cato's Original Scientific Mission[]

Cato’s infirmary took up a full third of the vessel’s grav deck along with the galley, mess, and an exercise room. Nurse Jacqueline Fontana watched the Clanners tend to a collection of curious medical and biochemical apparatus.

She jumped at a touch on her shoulder and turned around to see Andrew looming over her. “Have you figured out what all this stuff is yet?”
“I’ve been busy.” She inhaled the mixed aroma emerging from a plastic pod with purplish lights above green sprouts within, “That is the herb garden.”

“Smells nice. Glad to have it near the galley. Having eaten so much bland space and prison food. Some terragon and dill on my frozen fish filet might taste the same as the finest branzino and capers prepared by the finest chefs on Skye.”

They walked past the Clan Techs and Scientists toward the medical beds and strange cylinders. “An isolation unit. It has a dedicated life support system disconnected from the ship.”
“Why?”

The Junior Doctor circulated toward them, “In case we have an infectious patient.”
Andrew faced the slender man with frosted blonde hair, “I am afraid we have not been introduced yet.”
His hand extended showing the single red face on his caste mark, “Junior Doctor Aras.”

“Doctor Aras, would you please give us a tour?”
“If you wish it.” The Doctor attached the magnetic clipboard to a plaque above one of the strange steel cylinders beeping even tones and occasionally venting cryogenic nitrogen, “I sense questions.” “For you and the Director.”

“Perhaps I can ease the burden on my Superior’s bruised brain.”
His hand felt the cool steel protruding from the pistol’s power pack, “I felt bad for a bit.”
“No worries, he and I were selected from Trueborn Warrior sibkos. We are hardly defenseless.”
Colonel Steiner watched the other Scientists in this chamber seeing they were fit and vigilant though unseasoned, “Noted. Why does the Cato have such an extensive biologics facility?”
“In other times it would be a bio-survey vessel. However, we all serve REVIVAL, thus Cato carries satellite maintenance equipment and messages as requested. Pathogens too, particularly zoonotic ones.”

“You will have to treat me as if I know nothing but violence Doctor. Zoonotic?”
“Animal carried. The Exodus Fleet could not take livestock with them. They would draw unsustainable life support. Our homeworlds contain no domesticable animals. We use machines instead. Our Iron Wombs generate Warrior Crechies, not calories or work. The Clans sustain themselves on aquaponics.”

Jacqueline listened in while studying a cell culture marked by an arcane series of symbols, “That explains the pescatarian diet.”

“Our people lost resistance to many diseases. COMSTAR isorla, due to their diversity in genetics and demographics, have been helpful in treating this deficiency. Still we gather specimens for our own protection.”
“Thus, the Ministry of Biosecurity?”
“Director Reginald has a warrant from ilKhan Showers. He is perhaps our brightest epidemiologist and one of our best virologists.”

Andrew took it all in and watched the others within the medical bay peering their way, “They will want him back then.”
“Aff, my people’s survival would be aided by his return.”
“Perhaps, but my people’s survival requires we oppose you.”

“You will lose. We are a force of nature. You have only met the Vanguard.”
“We will still fight.”
“Then perhaps honor has not completely departed the Lyran Commonwealth, unlike its leaders.”
Aras looked aside toward one of his experiments which had gone ‘out of tune’ with its status beeping. “You have given me much to think about, Aras.” Andrew looked toward Jacqueline, ‘be careful,’ she nodded as he turned.

Endless corridors connected the ‘crew cube’ consisting of generous passenger quarters, machine spaces, and storage chambers. The fortified Shuttle Bay door was locked down from the bridge, additional cameras were set up near the Warrior’s confinement, late Commander Renmar’s quarters were equally under observation as it contained the highest level prisoner. Andrew stopped at the door holding a bottle of Weingarten Silvaner with two fluid bulbs and looking at the camera. Someone on the bridge opened the Captain’s Quarters.

Director Reginald waited for him at the desk, his bruised forehead still prominent. “Good morning, Colonel Steiner.”
Andrew strapped himself in across from the Director. “Director, It is sixteen hundred, according to the ship’s clock.”
“Well, I just woke up with a headache. I see you have brought me a gift. One related to my interests in viniculture, microbes, and fermentation.”
“Call it a peace offering.”
“I shall reciprocate.” He placed a power pack on the computer built into the desk surface.
“What is that?”
“The power cell to the laser pistol I discovered within these quarters.”

Andrew reached for his pistol then relaxed to clip the cell to his belt. Reginald placed the concealed laser pistol between them. “We searched this room before locking you in it.”

“Apparently not good enough.
I trust the wine is, on the contrary, exquisite. Somerset’s Merchant Factor raves about it.”

“It is one of my mother’s favorites,” Andrew attached the bulbs to the bottle’s spout filling them with the liquid, “and now I think I need a drink.”

Reginald studied the slightly bubbly clear liquid and presented it, “To good health then.”

Uneasy New Years Eve[]

Two days had passed while the Lyrans acclimated themselves to their curious prisoners and new circumstances. Andrew Steiner stood beside Bosun Edgar Jaeger in a basic spacesuit while the Bosun pitched the Sabutai overboard and into the deep black using the enhanced musculature of his engineer’s suit. Airlocks sealed behind them, and atmosphere returned to the reduced pressure, enriched oxygen blend standardized since the days of the Terran Hegemony.

They removed their helmets as soon as the sensors read green, “It’s a pity we had to pitch them.” “I had to be certain that the Pilots use them against us. The Astrolux at least has additional life support and access control for our team, but those fighters were nothing but a threat.”

“I understand, still a pity,” Edgar’s hand undulated and shot forth with impressive speed accentuated by his suit’s myomer underweave, “They were sexy craft. All smooth curves with the spirit to match, I bet they were a beauty to fly.”
Andrew loomed over the smaller spaceman in both physique and countenance, “They probably were, but even you are too big to fit into that cockpit. Only Allie can fit but she can’t fly. If we get exposed a pair of fighters won’t save us.”
“I’d be willing to lube up and give it a try. Wonder what they do with the larger pilot candidates.”
“I’ll ask the Director this evening.”
“Has he given you anything interesting?”
“Distraction, something we’d all like to have but can’t give ourselves enough of at the moment.”

Andrew departed the bay, deposited his suit into the locker, and stopped by the galley to grab two plates before translating with the sealed dishes. Allie crouched by the Director’s door grasping one of the many ties along its circumference but within sight of the only approved airtight door leading to this hall, “You don’t have to watch him Allie, get some shut eye. He can’t get far; all movement must pass through compartment bulkheads we control.”

“I don’t trust him or any of them. I’ve seen what they are capable of.” She patted the late Commander Renmar’s pistol on her belt, “I’m sure this isn’t the only hidden weapon on this ship, and there are still three Warriors onboard.”
“I understand, I’ll take over the Director’s watch for now.”
“Be careful, Colonel, something is off with that guy.”
“I know, that is why I keep talking to him.”
Allie looked him over and saw he was carrying something other than dishes in the pouches attached to his vest, “Are you armed?”
“No, I’d just be bringing weapons to a fight better fought with words. He’s an old man. I can handle him.”
She hesitated before launching herself toward the galley and New Year’s Dinner.

Andrew keyed his authorization code into the taped-on number pad, and received a response from the bridge which gave him the green light to open the sterile white plastic portal. Director Reginald waited for him with his silverware already attached to the magnetic pad on the table. “According to my estimates today is Terran New Years.”
“Aff, Director.”
“Good I had feared I might have missed a cycle while I was reading. What do we have for dinner this evening, Colonel?”
“The usual,” the plastic shell opened to reveal an entrée of seafood and vegetables wrapped in delicate papery film alongside a cup of sticky rice balls. “Your galley mates do not seem excitable enough to throw a proper New Year’s party.”

Reginald took a bit of one of the rolls, “We only celebrate Founding Day, during that week there are many festivities and Artisan performances for the masses.”
“I thought that the Clans lacked art.”
The Director chuckled, “You have clearly never met a Ghost Bear Skald then,” Reginald reached back and put a small book with a gilded cover in front of them, “or read our Remembrance.”
“You are giving me homework, Director?”
“You have the time, Colonel. You might know something about spacecraft, but you are a MechWarrior through and through. Perhaps it is better you stay out of the way of your more knowledgeable subordinates. If you want to understand us, it is all right there in black and white. You can read that faster than interviewing me.”

“Perhaps but I do have a few questions, while we are together. What is up with the dull eyed doll faces?”
“The Aerospace Warriors?”
“Yes, why do they have cybernetic eyes?”
“Colonel, if you would just ask your questions more pointedly, I could provide answers without questioning you in turn to clarify.
Eyeballs are fluid objects,” the Director lifted a rice ball onto his spoon, “They do not do well in microgravity. Thus, many of the Aerospace Phenotype who populate our orbital installations remove them and replace them with alternatives.” He gracefully guided the rice ball to his mouth and swallowed, “The fact that they are granted additional sensitivity in the Infrared is merely a useful side effect and one that takes some practice to utilize although females are faster to pick up on it.”
“What happens to the tall ones?”
“They become Espatiers. Our Espatier Corps is almost entirely Male while the Flying Corps is seventy percent female. Why build a larger fighter if a smaller Pilot can do that same job better since they need less thrust or life support?”
“Why were there no Espatiers on board this vessel?”
“We have many vessels plying the stars. They were needed elsewhere or so I figured. Otherwise, your ambush might have been unsuccessful. Their armor may not be as impenetrable as an Elementals but it is more mobile in microgravity such that even an Elemental struggles against a trained Espatier in their native environment.”

“I have a few more questions before I depart.”

Reginald leaned back in his chair and folded his hands into one another, “I have all the time in the world at the moment Colonel, consider me a captive audience.”

Andrew pulled a signet ring with a black opalescence octopus on it from his pouch. “I found this in your quarters on the Astrolux. There is no Octopus Clan. So, what does this symbolize?”

The Director leaned forward once more and played with the shimmering shape, “How much time do you have?”
“The rest of the year, if necessary, Director. Explain.”

Talk of Plague and taking advantage of a unique opportunity[]

Reginald (Peltier) paused and put the ring over his pinkie finger, “Thank you for returning this to me. Command Renmar and I belong to a Scientist Collaboration Society known as the Opal Octopus founded in response to the Scorpion Contagion almost seventy standard years ago.”

“Opal Octopus. Seriously?”
He turned the ring diffracting colors shimmered against the dark background, “Octopoda are very colorful, malleable, and fragile as are Opals. We are Scientists not poets.”

“The Scorpion Contagion.”
“Yes, at that time there were nine Clans remaining of the original Twenty. The Goliath Scorpions were peerless explorers, but as you are aware there are many dangers out there in space. One of their Seekers had uncovered a virulent contagion that threatened our entire civilization much as the earliest days when we settled our first homeworlds.”

“TIn response the infected world was razed from orbit on the orders of the ilKhan, their own former Khan who happened to be on our capital world at the time. We do not always have an ilKhan but we have since then.”

“TAs he was responsible for the death of tens of millions, although he saved billions, he resigned his post and disappeared into the desert.”

“TA tragedy that changed our civilization by breaking down the silo walls between the Clans and encouraging greater cooperation amongst the survivors. After that there were only eight Clans thus my forebears chose an Octopus as their emblem. Our mission is very simple, encourage the free exchange of scientific information between Clans rather than keeping it centralized.”

“TWithout ilKhan Moreau’s resolve REVIVAL wouldn’t have been possible and we would likely be backbiting one another like animals still.”

Andrew paused for a moment, “That was not what I was expecting to hear.”
“What did you think? That because it was black and a bottom dweller that it was something nefarious. I dropped this when you attacked me. It was not concealed; I proudly and openly wear it. Perhaps you need to temper your expectations, Colonel.”

“Maybe I shall.” Andrew picked the Remembrance from the table and stuffed it into the bag floating beside him. “I look forward to our continued conversations, Director.”

“As do I but I do wish to return to the onboard laboratory. My daughter certainly misses me.”
“Your daughter?”

“Yes, I have sixteen freeborn children from four women. It is the maximum for a single individual for both sexes. Six are Doctors like me, four are Watch Operatives, many of whom are drawn from the progeny of Scientists. The rest are MedTechs despite their mothers being from the Laborer Caste.”

“Which Watch? What Clan are you affiliated with, Director? You have nothing on your codex.”

“Just The Watch. Collaboration operates on many levels now as I have explained. Who they accept orders from does not matter as much as their vision for The Clans’ future. It causes no end of friction between them and the Warriors of the Touman.

As for me I gave up my Clan affiliation when I accepted my role from the ilKhan.”
“You can do that?”

“I cannot, but the ilKhan can and expects it for all high-level Ministers, to ensure impartiality. I could have been my former Clan’s Scientist-General or Keeper of the Kin, but I chose service to the ilKhan.”

“You have many mysteries Reginald and I have much time until we reach our destination. Starting tomorrow I will grant your request but only because the lab is already watched, and I am uncomfortable traveling with unsupervised germs.”

“I assure you our biological containment procedures are very good. I would not be onboard otherwise.”

The following day Reginald arrived within the biolab; his staff allowed a moment of relief before returning to their duties. He plucked a tiny blue flower from the herb garden and breathed deep, “That is much better.”

One of the younger MedTechs approached him, she brushed aside blonde hair and examined his forehead, where Andrew had pistol-whipped him. “Seems you have healed completely, father.”
“Aff, Niamh. How is our cargo?”
“Multiplying.”
Reginald nodded, “Excellent. Have you changed the labels?”
“I have, but do you expect they will examine them at our enemy’s destination?”

He walked toward the bioreactor capsule with his latest ‘acquisition’ all its status lights blipped green, and the cell count from the internal instruments grew.
“Perhaps but that will be their own folly and our opportunity. Until then we just need to keep their MedTech occupied. The others are simpletons.”

Plotting and Planning in the Dark[]

01/04/3052 - ‘Apollo M7, 2287’

The Cato translated through KF-Space and emerged above an uninhabited and dim M7 Red Dwarf. Navigator Jeremi looked toward Andrew and Florentin on the bridge, “Right on Target Skipper.” The Nav Beacon for a decrepit space station dating back to the days of the Rim World’s Republic activated after the emergence wave washed over it. Its blips warned away curious travelers and provided out of date astrogation information thanks to stellar migration. The proximity to Apollo meant that the sensitive communication array of the Explorer could pick up broadcasts from the planet from around seven months ago.

Andrew watched Florentin adjust the relative angle as the solar sails unfurled. “Everything here is just echoes.”

Jeremi noted that that the Solar Sail had successfully unfurled and pointed itself toward the dim primary where it would absorb as much of its light as possible to recharge their drive, using the engines was too risky. “Aye Sir, there’s an old RWR station nearby but its beacon is warning us away.”

Florentin locked in the angle and returned the flight controls to the computer. “Gotta love that lostech. Still going strong after centuries out here in the void.”

Within their darkened storage room, Candida, Nimue, and Makada looked toward one another. “We are no longer in Somerset system, sisters.”
“Good, perhaps the Enemy have taken us somewhere quiet.”
They all turned to the door and nodded in eerie unison, “That shall be their third and final mistake.”

Hostile Takeover[]

01/08/3052

Red lights blinked within Cato’s bridge as the crew and sheltered throughout the ship in their suits. ‘Beneath’ them Apollo M7, 2287 flared out incredible volumes of particle and ionizing radiation from its magnetosphere. Although sheltered behind the solar sail and layers of protection the jumpship was subject to stellar weather and in the target zone. Four hours passed; Colonel Andrew Steiner dropped his fist on a camera monitor as it blurred, before turning dark. “Is it supposed to do that Jeremi?”

Jeremi looked up from the Navigation Screen, “It happens during bad storms, Colonel.” Then to the Clan Helmsman, “I thought your systems were isolated Maas.”

Maas peered toward the screen and back to his console where he kept the sail between them and the brunt of a flare star’s wrath. “They are. Our internal network is beneath the HarGel.”

The screen remained as dark as Jeremi and Andrew’s expressions. Colonel Steiner reached for the INTERCOM, //“Oskar get to the brig!”\\

Static
“Shite.”

Andrew donned his suit’s polarized helmet and readied his weapons. He cycled through camera feeds; blank screens answered him in turn. The INTERCOM was down, door sensors showed intermittent errors. Jeremi and Andrew pointed their weapons at their Clan Helmsman, “Who could have messed with the internal network?”

Accustomed to weapons and erratic Warriors Maas made no move one way or the other, “The Director, The late Commander, Chief Engineer Kanti, maybe Doctor Aras.” Maas tried his access codes and codex, “System is locked down solid, even to me, and I am one of the Senior Crew.”

“That means it could only be one person.” Andrew drifted toward the bridge’s armored door, one of two thick metal portals leading to the compartment. “Lock this door, I’ll send others to you if I find them.”
Jeremi donned his helmet and readied his pistol nodding to the Helmsman who maintained their current heading weathering the solar storm outside.

Andrew cycled the portal, carefully peeking out and into white tubes with the standard Spacer markings identifying ‘holds,’ straps, emergency and engineering equipment leading throughout Cato’s pressurized volume. His suit’s radiation sensors spiked as he left the bridge to enter ‘The Tubes.’ They were empty as expected since the crew was sheltering in the middle decks within the protective envelope of the water storage and life support modules.

Engineering had a direct feed to security and Edgar and Allie watching over it from behind similar portals as the bridge. The others were in the relative safety of the shuttle bay within their own craft, but someone had cut comms and cameras to that module. Andrew took a moment to punch a wall, “I bet the Director has a backup security input within the Commander’s quarters. This would be the perfect time to escape. Verdamnt!”

The mission took priority over his curiosity. He likely had at least three potentially armed and very upset cyborg AeroWarriors hunting him, and they knew where he had to go. Andrew pushed off and paused to check his six before jumping through the T-intersections bracing the flimsy JumpShip against the rigors of interstellar travel while protecting the crew from a ‘long fall.’

He paused at the portal leading toward the Commander’s Quarters, his rifle at the ready, the opaque white panels opened to an empty corridor frame by the bulkhead. As he passed through Nimue uncoiled herself and launched a pick toward his head. Andrew parried it with his Mauser but she hooked the head around it putting herself between him and the weapon. Her momentum caused both to crash into the wall. His ECLSS pack dug into his lower back causing him to wince from the impact of his suit.

She turned, blood red cybernetic eyes staring at him framed by black hair, then balled her legs up to kick off him, taking the tomahawk like pick and his Mauser with her. His next wince was from being kicked in the ribs and into the wall again. Her strength seemed greater than before despite days in captivity.

He drew his pistol firing a pulse of blazing light through her back. It found its mark but so did her tomahawk which crashed into his left arm and through layers of ballistic fiber. Globules of blood leaked from the injury dotting the white tube with crimson.

Nimue seemed unphased despite the burn to her silver jumpsuit and pale flesh beneath it. She kicked off the wall launching herself toward the Mauser which had bounced off the wall and was ricocheting between the tubes. Andrew scrambled away from his position, tracking her with his pistol. Each missed shot scorched the tube’s interior as she evaded, graceful in microgravity while he struggled.

With the Mauser secured she bounced toward the T-intersection ‘above’ him, “Its over, Colonel. If you cannot get that injury treated you will bleed out, and if you keep fighting, I will kill you. The others have already secured Engineering. Your operation has failed.”
Andrew took cover against the bulkhead, scant defense against the heavy pulse laser rifle but he still had his suit as well. “There are still the others!”

“You have only brought three Warriors and the rest are little better than Techs. Oskar is the only threat beside yourself. We have marked him for killing our sister.”

His pistol wasn’t enough there was a chance that he could make it back to the shuttle bay and raise the others, but it would require abandoning the bridge and Jeremi. Reginald’s voice cut in and opened a video tab in his helmet visor from Allie’s POV Camera positioned in such a way to show the Director holding the pulse laser pistol to the helmetless and injured forms of Allie and Edgar. Kanti and his crew stood behind him tapping away at the Engineering consoles.

Director Reginald’s gray and black hair poked through the soft cap common to all spacers which accentuated his wizened drawn features. “Colonel, I would like to extend you the same courtesy you have given me. Surrender yourself and your unit into custody effectively immediately and I will call off my Warriors and Crew. The Cato belongs with the Clans, and I am late for an appointment, but not by enough that it cannot be explained without bringing up your rebellion.

There is no more need for bloodshed, but if you press us.” He leveled the pistol toward his hostages, “then that is what you shall have.
Our MedTechs are standing by to treat your injuries and I will put in a good word for you with the JAG. There will certainly be opportunities in the future for such a bold MechWarrior and Commander as yourself.”

“For the next Conquest?”
“You are still young enough that you could rise to command several Clusters if not a whole Galaxy should things change. However, your death will accomplish nothing but bring me sorrow.”

“Well, I would hate to disappoint you, Doc.” Andrew looked back to see Oskar and Florentine approach the intersection from the opposite side. They tossed him one of the Pulse Laser Rifles, he checked the charge strip, all green, they exchanged thumbs up, reflected in each man’s mirrored visor. “But I am going to have to refuse.”

“That is regrettable, Colonel Steiner.” Reginald’s head bowed slightly, “I would have appreciated more time together.”

The Lyrans launched themselves into the corridor exchanging bursts of Avenger Shotgun bursts and Pulse Laser fire with the AeroWarriors to the end.

Fashionably Late for an Appointment[]

Drovahchein - Erit Cluster, Dark Nebula
01/12/3052

SLS Cato translated into the nebulous darkness of space, plumes of primordial gases obscured starlight causing Jump Computer error. SLS Yangtze and Volga floated nearby attended by dozens of dropships bearing the crests of the Hanseatic League and House Mailai natives. Modular space stations extended starfish like arms to capture the solar radiation growing the aquaculture products the Clans relied upon. Three Carrack Armored Transports waited nearby to ferry provisions and finished goods to the front, a fourth was undergoing maintenance from a Tramp Jumpship transformed into a mobile cage works.

Aerospace fighters and gunships raced toward the Cato. Nova Fox Espatiers boarded the ship, their tall, lean frames predatory with claws in the shape of a Mauser IIC. They removed their helmets upon ensuring the ship and its crew were safe and mostly accounted for. “Makada, where is the remainder of your crew, SaberCat’s Aerofighters, and who are these individuals not on the manifest?”

Makada looked toward the Director with pale blue cybernetic eyes, he responded. “There was an accident, Point Leader. That is why I am late.”
The Point Leader looked at his pilot sister, cybernetic eyes locking for a moment at this breach of protocol. “Director Reginald speaks the truth, Orion. We had to abandon the Aerofighters due to a fuel leak which caused the casualties. The unmanifested individuals are the crew of the Ares cargo shuttle in the bay. They had mechanical problems and required rescue.”
“Yet you brought them here, to our covert rally point. How do you know they are not spies?” “You can question them but what better place to take them then one few know about, Quiaff?”

Orion looked at the assembled crew including the five newcomers identified as Technician Caste. His fingers brushing against his goatee. “Aff, I suppose that does make some bit of sense. Very well, we will process them aboard our Pentagon.” He waved something to his Point who immediately guided the newcomers to the boarding shuttle.

Director Reginald (Peltier) folded his hands behind his back aboard the gravdeck of the Carrack SLS Ingrid Regnar, an observation screen showed the nightside view of the planet below. He chuckled as he realized the few circles that lit up did so as an advertisement for House Mailai. Niamh came up from behind him tapping the band of a luminous opal octopus on the metal table between them. “I really wish we could have seen the Potemkins depart, father.”

“Do not be disappointed, child. There will be other opportunities.”

End of Part I