Starhold's Fate (Starhold Series Book 4) Page 7

  Austen Sykes was in his mid-fifties, with a medium frame and broad, affable face. His high forehead was crowned by curly but thinning dark hair. Like Pettigrew, Sykes was known as an apolitical officer, allowing him to serve through multiple regimes based on merit and not favor. The man had survived the People’s Rebellion, the Polanco assassination, and Channa Maxon’s Ministry of Culture—all with a record virtuous enough to place him second in command of the Imperial Space Force.

  After introductions and niceties, everyone settled in. The humans turned their attention toward Admiral Sykes, but it was the Lytori diplomat who rose and began to speak.

  “First, a bit of good news,” said Ambassador Primus, who wore a unique gray garment that was the Lytori version of a business suit. “The Q’ynn Third Federation has joined in the war against the Massang. They are placing their entire navy at our disposal.”

  Admiral Marius made the distinctive clicking sound that humans had come to recognize as Lytori laughter. “Their entire navy,” said Marius, “consists of four corvettes and a frigate.”

  Amusement spread throughout the room. “Still,” said Pettigrew, “it’s hard to find fault with people who would give us everything they have.” He hadn’t meant it as admonishment, but the grins disappeared as quickly as they had come.

  “Quite so, Admiral,” said Ambassador Primus. “Quite so. And in even better news, rebel Massang forces on Cazzabius Four have gained complete control of the planet, with the assistance of Coalition special forces.” That was significant. Cazzabius straddled a major trade route in that region of space. Losing commerce from that area would be crippling to the Massang Core Worlds.

  “Don’t get too cozy with all the good news, Chaz,” said Sykes, turning back to the ambassador. “Shall we let Admiral Pettigrew and his people in on the reason for their visit?”

  “A challenge,” said Primus, tapping a raptorial forearm on the floor in enthusiasm. “A challenge.” The Lytori habit of repeating things could sometimes be endearing. Other times, it was just irritating.

  On cue, a holographic map appeared in the center of the room, floating between the Sarissans and the Lytori. “This is an area of space my people call the Magnus Veil,” Primus explained. “And this is the star system humankind refers to as Cor Caroli. For unknown reasons, the Massang are rallying forces to this system. During the past ten standard days over fifty enemy vessels have arrived there.”

  Sykes continued. “We are also seeing a great deal of movement on the part of the Massang fleet. Many of their ships seem to be on a projected course toward Cor Caroli. Admiral Tovar herself reports that enemy forces in the Algol system have been reduced by twenty-five percent over the past few days. She’s guessing those ships are also headed for Cor Caroli.”

  “That’s odd,” said Pettigrew. “They’ve been fighting tooth and nail for that system. You’d think they would be reinforcing their assets in Algol, not reducing them. What’s so important about Cor Caroli?”

  Sykes turned back to the map. “Location, for one. If the Massang dig in at Cor Caroli, their next step undoubtedly would be to Yarranga. If they were to take Yarranga, the enemy would be within striking distance of half a dozen human worlds, including Odessa and Gerrha. We can’t allow that.”

  “And then, there is this,” added Marius. The holographic projection switched to the image of a space complex of some sort. It was composed of two massive half-cylindrical structures separated by several kilometers of space. “The Massang seem to be very busy building whatever this is at Cor Caroli. In intercepted comm traffic, they refer to this structure as ‘the Oplacai.’”

  “This is not an actual picture, you understand,” remarked Ambassador Primus. “It is a rendering based on descriptions provided by Vahtaran merchants who have been through the system. Whatever this so-called Oplacai is, the Massang are working feverishly on it. It seems to have their highest priority.”

  Pettigrew stared at the image. “And we have no idea what it is?”

  “Not a clue,” replied Admiral Sykes.

  “I know,” said a voice from the human side of the conference table. “I know what it is.”

  One of Pettigrew’s staff officers apprehensively stood. “Lieutenant JG Denlora Aoki, sirs,” she said in a shaky voice, glancing over at the Lytori Sulla and adding a belated “Ma’am.”

  The room fell silent as everyone tried to fathom why a lowly staffer had inserted herself into the conversation—and without being called on to do so.

  “Lieutenant,” Admiral Marius spoke up. “The finest Lytori scientists have been considering this problem. How is it that a Sarissan junior officer knows the answer when they do not?”

  Aoki’s face reddened. “I’m not Sarissan, sir, I’m from Earth. To be more accurate,” she said on the verge of rambling, “I’m a New Earther, sir.”

  Nyondo sprang to her feet alongside Aoki. “I apologize for this, sirs. I’m sure the lieutenant has—”

  “Just a minute, Captain,” Pettigrew said as he gestured Nyondo back into her seat, then turned to address the Lytori delegation. “The Sarissan Space Force accepts a limited number of applicants from allied worlds, such as Earth. I don’t believe the Lieutenant here would interrupt unless she had something significant to offer.” He desperately hoped that was true.

  Ambassador Primus spoke. “Lieutenant Ah-Oh-Key…” Despite their excellent language skills, the Lytori sometimes struggled with human names. “By your age, it is my guess that you were born in the Otherverse. Am I correct?”

  “Yes, sir. That’s right.”

  Primus was unable to contain his pleasure. “And I thought we Lytori were the only aliens in the room,” the ambassador joked. The androids had been working hard to cultivate a sense of humor, believing that it put their human allies more at ease.

  Captain Sulla was clearly not amused. “Lieutenant, you claim to know what this object is,” said the female Lytori in a dour tone. “By all means—enlighten us.”

  “Well, ma’am, that’s why I am here.” Immediately, Aoki realized her response sounded flippant. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that I’m here to enlighten you—I meant it literally,” she said pointing at the hologram. “That device is why I’m here. It’s why all New Earthers are here, in this universe. It’s a Threshold.”

  Surprise and shock ran through the group.

  “Aoki, how do you know that?” asked Pettigrew.

  “In the Otherverse, I was only six years old when the ship carrying my family entered the Threshold, but I remember it like it was yesterday. Sir, all you have to do is download any New Earther school text about the Crossing and you can find a picture of the Threshold. It looks exactly like that.”

  “If that’s true,” said Nyondo, “it means the enemy is building a trans-dimensional hypergate.”

  Pettigrew furrowed his brow. “I doubt this is a coincidence. The Massang must have been spying on the New Earthers years ago when they constructed the second Threshold, the one Governor Sheel destroyed.”

  “We need to contact the EarthFed authorities for all the information they have,” said Sykes. As soon as the words left his lips, a nearby staff officer scurried away to the task. “Working on the assumption that the Lieutenant is correct, where does that leave us as to Massang intentions?”

  “Excuse me, sir?” Aoki spoke up again, with Sykes nodding for her to proceed.

  In for a penny, in for a pound, eh, Aoki?

  “Sir, back in the Otherverse, the original purpose of the Threshold was to project vessels hundreds of light-years without the need of another hypergate anchoring the traveler’s destination. All those years ago, my people were trying to flee from the Adversary, not cross dimensions. Our passage into this universe was by accident, not design.”

  Nyondo rustled in her chair. “So, this Massang Threshold—the Oplacai—could very well be a strategic weapon. They might be gathering a fleet for a massive strike into the very heart of human space.”

  “Or Lytori space,”
snapped Captain Sulla tersely. Most Lytori seemed to genuinely enjoy being around human beings, but Sulla could get a little salty at times.

  Admiral Marius rocked slightly from side to side, a motion that Pettigrew had come to recognize in Lytori body language as anxiety. It was the android equivalent of fidgeting.

  “For all we know,” remarked the alien admiral, “the Massang may have originated centuries ago in the Otherverse and are now trying to summon reinforcements.”

  “Notwithstanding of all this speculation, it doesn’t change why you were called here, Admiral Pettigrew,” stated Sykes, trying to steer the briefing back on course. “The Massang are gathering at Cor Caroli and we want to be there to crash their party. The largest fleet the Coalition has ever put together is being assembled. You will be in command.”

  Pettigrew eyes went wide. “Me? But what about Admiral Wallenstein? He deserves—”

  “Tenth Fleet will be laid up for repairs here in Artemis for at least two standard months. It’s your show, Chaz. Along with Fifth Fleet, I’m also giving you the Third and the Ninth.

  “Leversee and Winston,” said Pettigrew dubiously.

  “Leversee is excited to work with you,” said Sykes. “Winston… less so. Frankly, he felt the command should be his, but you know how he is sometimes. Anyway, you can count on him to follow orders.”

  Pettigrew absent-mindedly rubbed his hands together. “Admiral Winston is a…” There were many words with which to finish that thought, but Pettigrew finally chose “…professional.” Nearby, Ambassador Primus chittered.

  “A warrior AND a diplomat. You are indeed versatile, Pettigrew.”

  He took the ambassador’s remark as a compliment as Admiral Marius spoke up.

  “In addition to human forces, you will have my First Extraorbital Corp and one Hixaran War Cluster, at full-strength. The Ambassador and I have pushed our Hixaran associates on the need for their participation.” The Hixaran mobile hypergates had been invaluable to the war effort, but the cephalopods were holding back on deploying the better part of their combat fleet.

  “Admiral Sykes, where will our staging area be?” asked Nyondo.

  Sykes gave a sideways glance to the Lytori before answering. “The Quinnesec system.”

  Pettigrew lowered his chin and raised his eyebrows. “Quinnesec? Admiral, that’s only about three light-years from Cor Caroli.”

  “And soon, the Spirit of our Creators willing, we will be getting much closer,” said Marius with zeal. The more his android friend hung around with humans, the more he sounded like one.

  Sykes nodded. “With some additional ships from a few other human starholds, along with those of our Coalition allies, you’ll have just over one-hundred fifty vessels at your disposal, Chaz.”

  “At my disposal to do precisely what, sir? What is my objective?”

  “Seek out and destroy the enemy. Whatever they are building at Cor Caroli, it can’t be good for us.” Sykes made a fist and punched it into his other hand. “Go smash it to hell, Chaz.”

  Ambassador Primus rose from his chair. As he did, everyone else stood as well.

  “Please, continue your deliberations, everyone,” said Primus, rearing upright on his hind legs. “Continue. In light of this new information from Lieutenant Ah-Oh-Key, I must return to the Lytori homeworld to consult with my government. Yes, I must return to the homeworld.”

  The meeting came to a temporary halt as everyone separated into groups: the Lytori officers speaking with the ambassador before he departed, Sykes huddling with his aides, and Pettigrew turning to his staff.

  His Chief of Staff was agitated. “It will be an easy job, Sunny,” said Nyondo, lightheartedly mimicking her commanding officer. “The staff practically runs itself. You’ll only have to liaison with some, oh, I don’t know—one hundred-fifty captains! Nothing to it… no pressure whatsoever.”

  “As you have seen for yourself, Captain Nyondo, our staff is quite formidable,” Pettigrew said with a cheerful glance around the group. “Just look at how Miss Aoki took charge of this meeting.”

  The flustered Aoki began to stammer apologies. “Admiral, sir, I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  Pettigrew raised a hand to stop her. “You did nothing wrong, Lieutenant. Your input was more than appropriate under the circumstances. At least now we know half of what we are dealing with.”

  “Half, sir?” asked one of his ensigns.

  “We might know what the Oplacai is, but as far as what the Massang intend on doing with it…” Pettigrew rubbed his chin in thought. “Captain Nyondo, considering the possible technical aspects to all of this, I believe we should add some engineering expertise to our staff.”

  “Engineering? Sir, we might need to take on a team of astrophysicists.”

  “I’ve learned that requesting that kind of specialized help from Central Command takes time—time we don’t happen to have. No, let’s go planetside and grab a top-notch engineer before we head off for Quinnesec.”

  Nyondo seemed to comprehend. Her knowing smile plainly puzzled the junior staff officers.

  “A good thing this top-notch engineer you want happens to be on Sarissa. Last I heard, she was instructing at Acworth.”

  “And hating it,” he added. “Why Uschi Mullenhoff ever thought she’d like teaching at the Space Force Academy is beyond me.”

  “Think she will want to tag along?”

  “I’m afraid she has no choice—she’s being drafted. Draw up the orders and have the good Commander on board Crossbow within forty-eight hours.”

  It was all happening quickly, and perhaps that was for the best. The faster the Coalition could mount an attack on the Cor Caroli system, the closer to the end of the war they would all be. Deep in his gut, Pettigrew knew that it would all be won or lost over the next few weeks.

  8: High-Rise

  Planet Pontus

  Pontian Alliance

  Frank Carr spent the journey to Pontus brooding instead of enjoying himself, which even he knew was dumb. The vessel on loan to them was a corporate yacht, typically used to convey Gideon Universal executives on world to world business junkets in luxury and style. The compact but well-appointed stateroom was more than comfortable. There was an extensive media library, ample food and a well-stocked liquor cabinet. For three days, all he had to do was relax, eat, drink, and wake up next to the finest woman he had ever known—and still Carr simmered over this mission. It was a job he feared they should have never accepted.

  Normally, traveling from Sarissa to Pontus would take almost a full month, but since the beginning of the war, most human starholds had agreed to common hypergate access in the interest of mutual defense. The Massang had finally given humans someone they feared more than each other.

  After exiting hyperspace at the Pontus system Gate, their craft began its four-hour transit to the spaceport in the Pontian capital, Prosperity City. Since it was a small vessel, they decided to land on the surface rather than dock at the orbiting starport. Aside from the expediency, berthing on the surface offered another key advantage—enabling a quick getaway in case it was needed.

  Pontus was named after an ancient Earth kingdom once located on the shores of the Black Sea. The planet itself was one of the finest extraterrestrial worlds ever discovered. Early on, the colonists here committed themselves not to repeat the ecological disasters which doomed Earth, and so a series of laws and customs evolved in order to protect the planet.

  One of those practices was to construct cities upward rather than outward. Great arcologies emerged on the surface of Pontus, immense structures housing self-contained vertical cities built to lessen the footprint of humankind on the world’s ecosystem. The Pontian capital, Prosperity City, housed most of its nearly two-hundred thousand citizens in three massive arcologies: ArcoSoleri, ArcoWright, and ArcoChen.

  Arriving dirtside, Carr and Sanchez were greeted at the spaceport by a representative from their hotel. “My name is Yunru Lin,” beamed an attrac
tive Asian woman wearing the teal business blazer of Hotel Horizon. “Welcome to Prosperity City. I have a groundcar waiting for your convenience. If you will follow me.”

  The hotel’s self-driving vehicle was more limousine than groundcar. Ms. Lin climbed into the passenger portion of the car along with her guests. Carr considered the move a bit forward, but understood that self-assertion was a Pontian trait. This was a compact society, one built on close quarters and minimal personal space. Pushiness was the norm here, and the patience of foreign visitors could often be severely tested. In fact, Sanchez already looked annoyed.

  “If there is anything you need during your stay, please let me know,” said Lin in the well-practiced tone of mock sincerity.

  “Does the hotel always pick up guests at the spaceport?” asked Sanchez.

  “Only the most important ones.”

  “I for one appreciate the gesture, Ms. Lin,” said Carr as he rummaged around in the mini-bar built into the door nearest him. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to Pontus. Things have changed.”

  He really had no idea if they had—he was just making small talk. In most civilized places things are constantly changing, so it was a pretty safe thing to say. Pouring himself a whiskey, he sank back into the cushy seat and watched the scenery go by. A clump of buildings, an area of greenspace, more buildings, more greenspace. It was an odd combination of capitalism and ecology, but it served the Pontians well. Their affluence had been achieved by crafting goods with the resources of other worlds, not their own. While Pontian mining corps shredded other planets, this one remained relatively undisturbed.

  “There!” said Lin pointing out the window. “You can see the top of ArcoSoleri.”

  In fact, all three arcologies were now in view. Lin recited statistics and ‘fascinating facts’ about the landmarks as Carr and Sanchez tried to appreciate their beauty. Each building looked like a gigantic bouquet of flowers that had been turned upside down and smashed into the planet’s surface. The lowermost part of each tall pyramid was made up of vast, wedge-shaped structures piled one on top another and spread some three kilometers across. As the buildings rose, they grew narrower until each converged into a great spire at the top.