really big or something?”
“No sir, not according to the report. It’s about the size of one of our cruisers.”
I nodded. “That is big, but not panic-worthy. Are they transmitting?”
“Yes sir, they claim they’re on a mission to provide ‘understanding and clarity’.”
I frowned. “Is this a diplomatic mission?”
“I don’t know, sir. I asked for them to provide some immediate understanding and clarity
before they arrived. The scouts relayed the message, and they simply repeated they’re
coming to ‘personally enlighten’ us.”
“That’s just great,” I said, “What’s this ship’s ETA?”
“Six hours or so.”
I grunted in disgust, finally getting my jacket under control enough to allow my pants
to wrap me up first. “Six hours? You set off the all-hands alarm for a single diplomatic
ship that’s six hours out?”
“Just following orders sir—your orders.”
I broke the connection and muttered something unpleasant about Welter’s heritage.
Sandra stood beside me, naked and gorgeous. “Aren’t you going to take a shower? Sounds
like you have the time—and you could seriously use a shower, Kyle.”
I sighed heavily. She was right. I slapped the disrobe points on my clothing, which
fell back onto the floor in a trembling heap. I hopped away gingerly before the jacket
could get any ideas and headed for the shower stalls.
Freshly washed but slightly sleepy, I marched through a series of nanite doors. The
doors dissolved as I came near, and some of the thicker, automated bulkheads hissed
open then slammed down behind me with a clang. When I reached the bridge my staff
had already assembled there.
The alarm had been triggered by one of my scout ships. I’d posted two of them on the
far side of the ring, in the Thor system owned by our sneering neighbors, the Crustaceans.
The scouts had strict orders: upon noting any kind of anomaly, one ship was to return
to our side of the ring and report it. The other was to stay on alert, observing,
until such a time as they were directly threatened. Only then were they to retreat
and make a follow-up report.
I’d set up this engagement policy to prevent us from being easily surprised by an
ambush from the far side of the ring. If anything was starting up out there, I wanted
to know about it. I’d soon figured out that one scout couldn’t do the job properly.
If the scout returned immediately, we’d get an early warning, but while he was making
his report he’d be missing out on details. Valuable information could be potentially
lost. Therefore, I’d taken to posting two watchful sets of eyes.
The Crustaceans themselves were a strange folk. As their name implied, they looked
more or less like lobsters. These, however, were intelligent , gigantic, eight-legged lobsters. Their shells were bluish and thick, and they were
definitely an aquatic species. We knew they could survive in an atmosphere like ours,
or completely submerged, but preferred to be under water.
Their system consisted of three gas giants and a load of other rocky worlds circling
a binary star. The stars consisted of an F class bright white star and a tiny red
dwarf. For some reason, I’d named the big one Thor and the smaller sun Loki. The three
gas giants themselves weren’t inhabited as far as I could tell, but one of them was
in the zone that supported liquid water. Circling that world were several water-moons
that were the homeworlds of the Crustaceans. Being within the band of space that supported
liquid water, the moons were covered in oceans.
Although their worlds seemed pleasant enough, the Crustaceans themselves were not
overly friendly. They’d been suspicious and competitive with us from the start. They
searched every comment we made to them for insults, and frequently found them. In
turn, they liked to brag, bluster and behave in a generally snobbish fashion toward
us. I found them tiresome