Stars of Charon (Legacy of the Thar'esh Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: Stars of Charon (Legacy of the Thar'esh Book 1)
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Loid
answered back, speaking back in their native language. After the Celestrial’s
clear tones, Loid’s rendition was halting and jarring.

“Send the
authorizations,” Loid nodded.

I sent
the codes. A few moments later the voice came back on, and the fighters peeled
off, allowing for us to go on our way.

“Their
formations are perfect,” Ju-lin’s voice was low with awe. “I mean
perfect
.
I grew up around fighter pilots and lived in fleet stations my whole life, and
I’ve never seen anything close to this level of coordination with the Earthborn
Protectorate fleet.”

“Impressive,”
Loid answered. “Isn’t it?”

“How do
they do it?” She asked.

“At first
we thought they were all psychic because we couldn’t fathom that another race
could be so much better at something than ourselves. But in reality, there are
no psychic powers. It’s just that the Celestrial culture focuses patience and
control,” Loid said. “They are far more disciplined than any other branch of
humanity.”

“Then why
haven’t they beaten the Protectorate?” I asked.

“Pardon?”
Ju-lin turned sharply.

“I mean,”
I stammered. “The Protectorate has been fighting the Celestrial Empire for a
long, long time, right? Those fighters look much more advanced than any
Earthborn ships I’ve seen, you yourself have commented about how much more
maneuverable they are than most Earthborn ships,” I nodded toward Ju-lin. “The
Protectorate ships may be bigger, but this fleet looks like more than a match
for the Dante.”

“First,
don’t confuse good looks with effectiveness,” Loid said. “Celestrial ships are
sleek, slender, beautiful even; but their weapons don’t hit any harder than
ours. When the force of a large Dreadnaught battle group like the Dante’s
encounters a Celestrial defense group like this one, there will be no winner.
The system will be littered with debris, bodies will float out in the black,
and the few who survive on either side will limp home to speak of the horrors
of war.”

“That’s
how every large action between the fleets went,” Loid continued. “The
Protectorate and the Celestrials are on even ground when it comes to war. The
discipline of Celestrial training meets the unpredictability of the Earthborn
instinct, and death is all that follows.”

“So the
fleets along the border just mirror each other,” Ju-lin added. “Nobody wants a
war like that. There’s no money in it. When we build up our forces, so do the
Skins. If we were to wage complete war, we may take their systems. Hell, we may
even defeat them, but the cost would be too high.”

“So
everyone just floats on either side of the flux points with loaded guns?” I
asked.

“Pretty
much,” Loid answered. The levity was back in his voice. “And so we bribe the
Earthborn and tiptoe around the Celestrials and travel between them to turn a
profit. Well, I do at least. I’m still not sure
what
you two do.”

“I’m a
pilot,” Ju-lin’s haughtiness had returned.

“Mind the
sass,” Loid responded.

“Mind the
cargo ship,” Ju-lin retorted.

Loid
pulled up as he realized that he
was
coming a little close to the
hulking hauler that was crawling in front of us. As he pulled up, a planet
filled our viewscreen. The oceans were light blue, the single large landmass
that was visible was lush and green.

“I love
it when grav points are close to civilization,” Loid smiled. “Some systems you
have to fly about for hours to get to anywhere interesting, but not in Shindar.
Boy and girl, I’d like to introduce you to Shindar II, our port of call. Now,
if you two will be kind enough to keep your mouths shut for the next fif
teen minutes, I will set us down and we can get to
work.”

Chapter
18.

“Lor’ten!”

I stood in answer to my name, and stepped forward through the
crowd of my kinsman. They moved out of the way as I passed. My legs felt numb
as they carried me. At last I was there, standing beneath the clan Chieftain.

“Lor’Ten,” he spoke in Draugari, his voice was loud and
sharp, stabbing at my ears. “You met the enemy in battle. And witnessed many
honorable ends. You walked the fires of fate. You stood to tell the tale.”

I recalled myself curled, huddled in the remains of the ship,
shivering against the cold of space. Alone and defeated. I remained silent.

“You showed true courage and strength. You, and you alone
breathe after the battle!”

My lie once again haunted me. I remembered the human
fighters, circling the debris searching for their survivors, and then leaving
me out in the black. When my clan had found me, I told them that there had been
no other survivors. It gave me the honor of victory. It was a lie.

“So rise, Lor’ten,” the chief continued. “Rise to your
station as you rise in honor. To the survivor, victory!”

“To the survivors, victory!” the clan repeated in unison as
they honored me.

 

Before
landing on Shindar II, my memories of cities were all of small communities. I
could recall my old village, full of narrow, twisting streets that were built
by thousands of footsteps on the soft soil; the paths did not follow a plan or
design, they were natural lanes that formed as a result of use as they were
walked over and over again. My memories of the Draugari home-ships were of
metal and ceramics, stations stitched together from cargo ships and wrecks.
Steel walls with paintings of great battles and noble deaths. Those memories—Lor’ten’s
memories—were shaded, old, dull, and unremarkable.

My
clearest memories were of the Downs. The streets were clear and orderly and
buzzing with the chaotic hum of business as people and equipment moved about
with the bustle of life.

I wasn’t
prepared for what I saw on Shindar II. I quickly learned that the Celestrials
make a different kind of city.

“Dear
god,” Ju-lin gasped as we stepped out and she surveyed the brightly colored
buildings. “Are they color blind?”

“Hush,”
Loid snapped as he led us through the cargo hold and opened the bay doors.
“This is a Celestrial production system. And by that I don’t mean supply chain,
I mean system, as in star system. The five habitable worlds, all of them
terraformed for a specific purpose. One world produces food, another water and
biomass, then there is a refinery, another is an assembly world. You get the
idea. Shindar II here is the trading hub and machining shop. They gather
supplies and make tools.”

We
stepped into the light of the distant yellow setting sun.

“No I
don’t,” Ju-lin retorted. “Why do they paint all of the buildings like that?
Everything to the east is that wretched burnt orange, those six are blue, then
a straight block of green. It’s wretched.”

“I said
keep down the damned sass,” Loid said between clenched teeth. “People know me
here.”

As if to
punctuate his remark, a Celestrial stopped at the edge of the landing pad and
raised his hand “Eti’katc’kahn!”

Even
though I had seen pictures of the Celestrial and heard stories and descriptions
for the last several weeks, I was still startled by their appearance. People
said they were hairless, but I suppose I didn’t fully understand that wasn’t
limited to their head. They had no eyebrows or eyelashes. Their noses were
narrow, and their faces were much more angular than any other human I’d seen.
The smoothness of his skin made it look as if his head was plastic. His sunken
cheeks and pronounced chin, and short forehead accentuated his large and
colorful eyes. As I looked, his eyes drew me in, they were unlike any I had
ever seen, blue with streaks of gold. He was clothed to the neck in
tight-fitting layers, giving an appearance of modesty and functionality.

“Jan, Eti’katc’Kahn,”
he said again.

“Jan te’,
Kit’po!” Loid raised his left hand in reply and quickly turned back to us. “I
told you, the Celestrials are orderly. They paint every building on the world
to color code what the building is for.  This district is devoted to industrial
fabrication, so every building is yellow.”

“You can’
be ser-”

Loid
flashed Ju-lin a sharp look before turning back to the Celestrial.

As I
watched Loid speak with the Celestrial I was unsettled, though for some time, I
couldn’t figure out why until I realized that neither Loid nor the Celestrial
were moving their hands, and facial expressions were minimal. Apparently the
Celestrial were not an emotive people. I was glad I wouldn’t have
to learn to speak their language on my own. The
Earthborn speak as much with their hands and faces as they do with their
voices, it had made Common easier for me to learn.

After a few minutes Loid once again held up his hand and said
a parting phrase.

The Celestrial returned the gesture and turned back on his
way.

“Good, that’s settled,” Loid
gestured us in. “Kit over there is going to fix up the
damage to the
Tons
and clean her up while we’re out. We should be able
to find some rooms to stay the night.”

“So we’re
not staying on the ship?” the idea of sleeping in an alien hotel clearly made
Ju-lin uneasy.

“The
Celestrial only live in their ships when they are in flight. If you are on
land, they sleep on land. And if they do it, we do it while we are here.”

“Great,”
Ju-lin muttered.

“See,
that was a
little
less sass!” Loid smiled. “Progress. That’s good. Run
on back into the ship and get anything you will need, and Eli, stow that
Draugari blade back in the ship. I won’t question your right to own it or carry
it, but the Celestrials may.”

 

Three
minutes later we were back on the flight pad. Loid and Ju-lin had packs slung
over their shoulders, I was empty handed. Without the knife in my belt, I felt
exposed and uneasy. I wondered if that was my own instincts, or Lor’ten’s.

“Alright,
first things first, it’s getting late and the market will be shutting down
soon. We need to track down the Noonan trader before they close up shop,” Loid
nodded. “One more thing, walk single file. Ju-lin in the middle. No, no it’s
not a sexism thing. It’s an efficiency thing. To the Celestrial, streets are
for travel, not idle conversation. Most walking paths are designed for walking
single file.”

“And why
am I in the middle?” Ju-lin asked. “Afraid someone is going to snatch me?”

“Good
lord no,” Loid answered. “I’d pity whoever abducts you! No, the locals walk in
order of station. I’m the captain, you’re the pilot, so you go second, and Eli
is, well, Eli. So he goes third.”

Being
referred to as the pilot was more than enough to satisfy Ju-lin, she followed
behind Loid happily. I began to feel offended, but then I realized that I
really couldn’t argue, I wasn’t sure what I was either.

“Watch
the first step,” Loid noted as we stepped out onto the walking path, I didn’t
understand why until I got to the edge and saw that the walkway was already
moving at a steady pace. In the interest of efficiency, the Celestrials had
created moving sidewalks throughout the city to speed pedestrians on their way.
It made sense, and probably helped reduce the public’s need to take their own
hover to get across town.

As we
delved into the city, I found that, though busy, it wasn’t at all bustling. 
During the day, the Downs always had a sense of urgency and energy. People were
walking down the streets, but they were also standing, talking, telling
stories, and moving about.  But here on Shindar II, the streets were quiet and
orderly. It reminded me of walking down the streets of the Downs that night
with Marin to go meet with Lee. It felt like an eternity ago, had that only
been a few days?

“Jan, Eti’katc’Kahn,”
a Celestrial woman greeted Loid as we quickly passed.

“Jan’te,
Ten’ant,” Loid responded without slowing.

“What is
all this etch as catch—whatever?” Ju-lin muttered quietly.

“I told
you, they know me here,” Loid replied under his breath.

“That’s
Loid
in Celestrialese?” Ju-lin replied.

“No, and
they don’t call it Celestrialese,” Loid quickened his pace.

Ju-lin
turned and flashed me a questioning look.

I
shrugged back.

I found
that as we turned down the various walking paths through the city, I became
more and more disoriented. The uniform burn-orange buildings in the district
made everything look the same. Though Loid seemed to know where he was going, I
couldn’t be certain that he wasn’t taking us in circles. Eventually, we turned
another corner and saw what I was certain was the market Alonso had directed us
to.

The rest
of the buildings we had seen were more or less square, with sharp utilitarian
angles and sloping roofs. Some had landing pads for shipping and unloading
goods and large steam exhaust ports, but all of them had the look of buildings
designed to suit the specific purpose. When looking at them, I could imagine
that the exterior walls were built to conform to the interior form of whatever
factor of processing equipment was within. Whereas humans tend to build one
size fits all buildings, and then adapt their uses to fit within the building,
the Celestrials built the building around their purpose.

The Grand
Market, however, had a much different aesthetic.  The first thing that I
noticed was that there were no walls, it was a large open-aired area covered by
a sweeping sculpted roof that reminded me of rolling hills. As I swept my eyes
across the scene I couldn’t find any supports holding the roof up, I figured it
must be some sort of hover technology.

We
stepped off of the moving sidewalk and paused. The stalls below were buzzing
with activity as traders and vendors moved from stall to stall. Though most of
the faces I saw were Celestrial, smooth and hairless, there were a few
rough-looking humanoids, some were short and squat with square shoulders,
another had a thick V of slick and styled hair covering his brow and reaching
down to the tip of his nose where it was tied into three braids that dangled
around his chin. He definitely wasn’t Earthborn. Probably Lasterian or some mix
of Lasterian. After the calm, orderly streets, the chaotic market seemed out of
place.

“For all
things a place and a purpose,” Loid said.

Roused
from my thoughts, I glanced over to see that Ju-lin was also puzzling over the
scene.

“The
Celestrials are organized,” he continued. “That doesn’t mean they are up-tight.
You will find that streets are for travel, markets are for trading, and, later
on, you will see that taverns are very much for drinking.”

Loid
rubbed his hands together happily in anticipation.

“There
have to be three hundred stalls down there,” Ju-lin said. “How are we going to
find whoever it is we’re looking for?”

“Eti’katc’kahn?”
The word came from a small, high voice behind us. I turned to see someone
wearing a brown robe. I saw a flash of pale, white skin and red eyes under the
hood. I recalled what Ju-lin had said about the Noonan, they were a humanoid
race that had been discovered by the Collective nearly two hundred years
earlier. Their homeworld orbited a dying brown-dwarf star, and they had evolved
nearly completely underground.

“I am
Eti’k
atc’kahn,” Loid stepped toward the cloaked
figure.

“I hear you have some goods to sell? Yes?” The small voice
said in Common with a thick, guttural accent.

“Word travels fast apparently,” Ju-lin whispered.

“It does when you want it to,” Loid quickly replied

I remembered his conversation with the Celestrial Loid had
spoken to at the landing pad.

“I assume you have somewhere we can conduct our business
quietly?” Loid asked as he gave a curt bow.

“Yes, oh
of course yes,” the hooded figure responded, nodding to us as it turned. “Your
servants as well, come along. No need to linger.”


Servants?

Ju-lin seethed quietly as we fell in behind as Loid followed.

“Actually,
I told my friend back on the landing pad you two were my slaves, something got
lost in the translation I suppose,” Loid answered.

I
couldn’t help but laugh, and was rewarded with Ju-lin’s elbow violently being
thrust into my side.

“We’re
not going into the market,” I noticed. “Where is he taking us?”


She
is taking us to the
other
market,” Loid answered.

“Oh boy,”
Ju-lin replied.

“No, not
quite like what you’re thinking, no shadowy back alleys. Crime is different
here in the Empire. It’s just another kind of business, and like with all
things, everything has its place. Now if you two will shut your damned traps
and play your part, I have weapons to sell and information to barter for.”

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