Carinae Sector: 02 - Admiral's Fury - Part 1 - Purple Blood (14 page)

Emeria set the alarm on the data tablet to allow her time to fetch her four children from school, and this in turn led her to voice yet again one of her key frustrations.

‘The lives of the humans are so short and it is so unfair.’

She still remembered the birthdays of her first two human friends, Samantha and Rebecca, now both long dead by human standards. The Traders possessed a thousand year plus life span that the humans seemed to have difficulty understanding. However Emeria knew that this was not unusual amongst the galactic races, and she now spoke aloud the estimated life spans of the various other races as she continued to think.

‘Barus live for two thousand years or more. The Cephrit live for nearly three thousand years. The Vorinne live for nearly five thousand years. Both the Jerecab and Tilmud live for well over five hundred years. The Quixxe live for about fifteen hundred years. The Zronte and the Maveen are practically immortal, and no one knows how long the Sspol live for at all.’

By habit, Emeria logged the estimated range of reproductive years for each of the races and sat back to think, as some of the automated processes the humans had built into the data tablet took over. She looked over towards the space port again and noted the hulking shape of the Illuria, one of the Trader’s main ships, looming over the edge of the space port.

Garendestat was working with his father and the chief engineer on improving the ship after it was decided her patrols were no longer required. Emeria knew that several months earlier the Maveen had yet again searched the ship before ordering it to land in shallow water off the mainland. The Illuria, named after her friend and mother in law, had remained underwater for three weeks, as the Maveen had repeatedly searched and found no additional traces of the previous Voorde infestation. The ship had then been carefully flown under remote control to the space port. Emeria now called up the results of her research on the Voorde before her gaze returned to the Illuria. She soon decided to eat her lunch, grilled barramundi and roasted vegetables, as she enjoyed the view from the hilltop.

Garendestat had given her reports on the ship a few times a week between helping with both the housework and raising their four children. Apparently they had taken the huge wings off the ship and were extensively refitting the entire hull. The aero spike engines were being replaced by larger and more reliable units, the fusion reactors were also being replaced by more powerful units, and considerable work was being done elsewhere to the hull itself. Emeria knew that dozens of highly skilled humans were helping with the upgrade of the ship as prelude to the new construction of their own larger ships.

Emeria heard her data tablet chime and she was confused for a moment as the star, Dalunon, was still high overhead. She then realised that the advanced heuristics of the additional linked and still running analytical programs was signalling her attention. She cross correlated several red boxes drawn to highlight interesting data as she muttered under her breath.

‘This cannot be right as the peak reproductive periods for all the species are listed. Yet the percentages are all races are different as one would expect with fertility only present in the advanced races for a small fraction of their life cycles. The obvious difference was human females breed for over twenty percent of their lives because of their short life spans. So why the Humans, Traders, Zronte, and even the Voorde are all linked here in this analysis?’

Emeria continued to evaluate this new line of interest as the day lengthened and she suppressed a start as a wild theory now came to her. She now laid out the first few hundreds years of each race with their respective breeding data, and suddenly the pattern became apparent. The Trader medical officer suppressed an oath as she reached for her pistol and then packed her data tablet into her back pack.

‘Narindestat and the other senior captains on the Captain’s Table would have to be urgently shown this information.’

Emeria decided to herself as she slowly picked her way down the slope towards the Trader outpost. She wondered momentarily if this new line of interest would lead to the Traders leaving Barede to start their own worlds.

Emeria knew that Narindestat had waxed lyrically several years earlier about a world they had found that would really suit the Traders, though it was some distance from the Barede colony.

                                                                     ***

Gindane suppressed a snort of indignation as she restlessly paced her bridge in a foul mood. The research fleet continued to dawdle for the preparations to leave the space docks in the Barus prime system. She had been forced to leave one older research cruiser and three destroyers, including her old command, still docked and in storage after it had become apparent they would not be space worthy quickly enough. The only positive side she could identify from this was that the crew shortages for the fifteen ships now leaving were at least manageable. She now gave her engineering chief a baleful glare of impatience as he continued his report.

‘Well Captain, to add to my earlier comment, four of the destroyers and two of the cruisers we are taking still have several failed shields, though I think I can fix both cruisers and two of the destroyers on the way out to the frontier.’

Gindane was gingerly handed the data tablet for her to consider for several minutes as she continued her pacing. She could see that if anything the engineering chief was being conservative, and she stated as such in her reply.

‘A third destroyer should also come fully online if we could locate a suitable generator along the way. If nothing else we can always leave the destroyer at the Cephrit base and collect it later when we resupply our ships.’

The tired engineering chief gave a shrug of indifference that Gindane found infuriating before he spoke again.

‘Captain, we could end up leaving the destroyer at the star base until our deployment ends, and we both know how the institute hates to waste money on ship storage fees.’

 Gindane bit back her impatience further as she realised the chief engineer had a point. She then verified that as of three months ago their Cephrit destination held all the spares they were seeking as she replied to the chief engineer.

‘Well we are ordered immediately via our forward zone to Cephrit star base 31, so we can get the parts we need there from what the inventory reports are telling us.’

Finally Gindane received the confirmation she was seeking from yet another inventory report that was only a month old, as she then handed back the data tablet and spoke again.

‘Now I am satisfied with what I can see. Send the launch codes to the attention of all our ships, for we will leave for the Cephrit base in four hours.’

Gindane sat back in her command chair and tried to relax, as she considered the biting and pithy spray she would vent at any commander who found ‘a last minute technical problem preventing launch.’ Enough was enough she decided, as she now called up the research notes she had been neglecting for the last five years. She also decided she would have a decent and but direct conversation with the station master, now the Cephrit fleet master, when they arrived at his star base.

                                                                     ***

Temeroth was dozing fitfully in the atrium after feeding when the senior Zronte drone leader walked in through the most distant entrance and bowed low. A soft chime sounded as the Tilmud guard at the entrance sounded a ritual greeting. The Battle Lord roused himself and slowly strode over to the drone leader to curtly question him.

‘So you have done as I have asked? And the mercenary leader now waits nearby?’

The drone leader remained doubled over in supplication as he responded to both questions.

‘Yes Lord and Master, the Fenshilla commandant awaits downwind near the grove of servitude as instructed.’

Without any further questions Temeroth strode out of the atrium on his long legs trailed by the ever servile drone leader. As they neared the grove of servitude, the drone leader fell back to stand guard in the open space out of earshot. The drone did feel relief in now not being close to the Fenshilla, as he had caught a foul whiff from the creature when he had met with it earlier.

Temeroth could just see in the early evening light the shrouded form of the Fenshilla several metres away, and was grateful both for the poor light and the fact that he was upwind. Wasting no time he launched into a series of instructions for the despised creature.

‘We already supplied technology and weapons that will never be returned or be acknowledged officially. The emphasis is to obtain intelligence that for one reason or another has not been forthcoming from the various vassal races. Especially I want the whereabouts and details of any Traders you encounter established before you destroy them. The star systems I am concerned about have already been supplied to you. I order that your own objectives in obtaining new biological information are secondary to my own requirements.’

The Fenshilla commandant paused for several seconds in the way of its race as it checked through the literal instructions of Temeroth. The battle lord was starting to lose patience, before the creature bowed low and gave a shrill hissing reply of its own.

‘It will be as you say Battle Lord Temeroth, we thank you for the advance assistance and we will not let you down. We seek the Traders and evidence of treachery amongst your vassals. We will start our search at the Posient Bulge, and then move outwards the former Dradfer colonies and other worlds.’

The Fenshilla stopped speaking because it had a sense of Temeroth’s sudden fury as the Zronte now tersely threatened him.

‘I will again personally visit your pirate base with a squadron before your fleet leaves. After your fleet is prepared I expect it could take years for you to locate the information I seek. If you fail me I will likely destroy your base and one of your few home worlds at a later stage. Finally there is a haven world called Earth nearby to the former Dradfer colonies, and you are forbidden to approach with twenty light years of this world. The briefing is over and you may leave slave.’

Without a further word, Temeroth turned his back on the silent but fearful Fenshilla and strode the short distance back to his villa. The Fenshilla commandant slowly stood and surveyed the surrounding landscape with the large eyes of a nocturnal hunter. He knew that several Zronte drones diligently watched from the distant tree line to ensure that he did not remain here long.

The commandant also knew that to even correct the Zronte lord about his slave status would have resulted in his death. As he began the long walk back to his small ship he considered for a moment what the universe would be like if the Fenshilla could perfect a biological weapon that was actually effective on the Zronte.

                                                                     ***

The Cephrit junior station master had problems of his own, as he slowly strode with his escort of guards into the lush and verdant clearing on one of the premier colonies of the Deltas Vass. To one side a four winged tell-me flew from branch to branch as it watched the Cephrit approach and announced their presence in a series of loud calls. The fleet master had been detailed in what he sought from sending his second in command on a long trip to Deltas Vass space.

The station master reviewed his instructions in his mind as he noted the four Blue Jerecab acolytes who sat quietly well back from the entrance to the clearing, with their blue capes and plain staffs incongruous against the purple and orange foliage of the Deltas Vass jungle.

The matriarch he had petitioned for a meeting had been circumspect and almost rude in her acceptance of his request. He had been allowed to bring six powerful female marines armed with only side arms with him as honour guard, as their armour and assault rifles had to be left behind. The Cephrit squad leader coolly eyed the masses of Deltas Vass drones wearing side arms, as the fleet master reached the formal address mat and gave the planet matriarch a slow and full bow of respect. The air now chimed in Deltas Vass notes as the matriarch greeted him in a musical version of his own language.

‘Station master, your prowess does your race favour and you are welcome here, so far from your home base.’

The station master kept his tone polite but firm, and he knew that his life, together with the lives of the six marines, depended on him remaining calm.

‘Matriarch of note, it is an honour to be your guest on one of your revered home worlds. Note that my superior is now the Fleet master and leads the battle against the Tilmud. We seek to clarify a matter between us only, as I seek to find a greater understanding of what has happened further out in the galaxy over the last two hundred years.’

The music notes of the matriarch chimed out in amusement at the Cephrit’s turn of phrase and he was concerned that he had already offended her.

‘So station master, like your entire noble race you are succinct and to the point. But be on your guard about being too close to the point too often. So what of the vassal obligations to the edicts? Or does our discussion truly remain amongst ourselves?’

The Cephrit male gave a barely perceptible antennae flicker towards his marine detachment leader, who clicked her mandibles once in acknowledgement, even as she kept her eyes on the armed drones surrounding them. The duelling blades of the Cephrit females were covered in the formal gold and ceramic blades used for official meetings, and importantly the marines remained perfectly still as the station master now slowly replied.

‘Honoured matriarch of our good allies, there can be an understanding between allies and friends more often than between vassals. There is much latitude in the edicts and we seek only a greater understanding not bloodshed. My contemporaries know of my visit here of course and approve of that I seek.’

The chimes of the matriarch gave way to strident notes of both laughter and derision, which the Deltas Vass drones picked up on immediately. The six Cephrit marines continued to study the drones with focussed interest, but remained perfectly still. The matriarch now remained silent for several minutes and the station master felt restrained from speaking again until the matriarch spoke eventually.