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Chapter 17
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Part 3
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20 January 2011
Specter of Solace
high Earth Orbit
Three shuttles landed one after another into the small hangar of the reconnaissance Frigate, filling up most of it. Three times, Commander Nick Optis, had to greet representatives from the governments stuck on the disaster in progress that was the world below them.
As far as the state-of-the-art sensors of the Solace could figure out, no one besides the locals watched them. That meant whoever was using Earth as an experimental ground was either not paying attention, kept themselves to passive observation or had access to sensors his people couldn't detect.
Neither of those options made the Commander particularly happy. The only bright point was that the potential threat, code-named Fallen Angel, kept twitching in place on the other side of the planet. It did nothing of consequence that anyone could figure out.
"XO, set course for the rift and bring us through. Standard security protocols are in place." Commander Optis calmly spoke to his communicator and braced for the tedious part that would now follow – entertain the diplomats.
From what he gathered, the first small party to arrive represented the former leading power on the world they were about to leave. He came along with an ambassador from a prosperous neighboring state. The second shuttle came carrying ambassadors from allies of said power, who were in the process of forming a continental-sized alliance. Curiously enough, said shuttle carried the representative of a rival nation of everyone else. While in decline, said rival still controlled arguably the largest country on the planet.
The last shuttle brought up representatives from a smattering of somewhat stable nation-stated from the other side of the planet.
Even that very simplistic explanation told Nick all he needed to know – dealing with the local politics was going to be a headache and a half. Why couldn't they be sensible and unite in two, or at worst, three rival factions, instead of the dozens of states they had now? The mere thought that just a few decades ago, there were hundreds of nations down there was hard to believe. It was almost as hard as the idea that there were thousands of people with powers, just like Jedi and Sith on that odd little world.
Nick shook his head at that thought. The presence of people with odd abilities was the primary reason for government and military interest in the locals. More importantly, if the rumor mill was right, interest in whoever, or whatever experimented on the humans of Earth, by giving them powers.
Such capabilities would be invaluable if they could be acquired and made useful in the wars to come.
Commander Optis entered the mess hall, where he found the passengers. They had divided into small groups, chatting amiably. Their small local security detail looked uneasy at each other, the available exits and the very visible Mandalorian Marines, conspicuous in their parade colored shining armors.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, let me once again welcome you onboard the Specter of Solace." Nick began his prepared speech. "We will transition through the portal in a few minutes. After security scan, you will board a civilian transport." Then all the bloody politicians would be out of Nick's hair, and he could continue to be a simple starship commander! "Unless something has changed on our side, you're about to spend two days in Sundari, the capital of the Mandalorian Freehold. The idea is to allow you a bit of time to acclimatize to the galaxy at large. You'll also have the opportunity to get familiar with the protocol droids who will be acting as guides and translators for your stay. After that, you're expected to accompany Mandalore and his party to Coruscant for the upcoming week-long Empire Day and Victory Day celebrations."
The Commander ended his speech on a high note. He didn't dare hope that there would be no questions so he could flee to the dubious safety of the CIC.
"Foreign Secretary Winters, of the United States." An older human, well past middle age in appearance introduced himself again. "I have two inquires, Commander. First, when will we meet diplomatic representatives of your government, and the Federated Empire? Second, will we be able to observe our journey to Mandalore?"
"I am unaware what arrangement the Foreign Ministry has about meeting with you. You'll be able to observe the trip to Mandalore from an observation deck of the luxury transport waiting for you." Nick answered quickly and made himself scarce, leaving the passengers in the tender care of the senior Lieutenant on board.
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Firebird
Kestrel Class luxury liner
Mandalore System
Lynn Cetra, breathed a sigh of relief after she ushered the last of her charges into the observation upper deck of the liner. She flashed a thankful smile to a few of the men and women of the indigenous security detail. They did help to corral the politicians, who had a hard time not acting like school children during their first off-world trip.
"This is Captain Hrust." A modulated voice came over the ship's speakers. "We'll be taking the scenic route today. Due to the Navy's preparation for the parade, security and commercial flights, space around Mandalore are quite congested these days. "For our guests, if you look to the port side, you'll be able to see us make a close flyby the Palpatine Class Star Destroyer Chimera II."
After a brief confusion as to which part of the ship was the port side, quickly addressed by the security types, practically all ambassadors went to look through the observation ports.
Lynn calmly walked to join them and serve as a narrator if needed. The young member of the Foreign Office did her best to listen to her charges, and miss nothing, trusting her implanted translator to do its job.
"It's all real." The oldest-looking man in the group spoke first in a hard accent that sounded vaguely like something from the far western Mid-Rim.
"Well, this puts to ground any hopes or fears people had that we were dealing with an incredibly sophisticated Maskirovka from tinkers and thinkers." His somewhat younger colleague nodded. "Or at least that will be the case when we get to the surface of Mandalore."
"I know some people in the Navy who would happily sell their firstborn to command something like this. A Palpatine Class, was it?" Asked a middle-aged man with an accent that would comfortably fit into the Core's nobility.
"That's right. The Chimera II is Admiral Pellaeon's Flagship. He's here commanding a detachment of the Imperial Federal Fleet, responding to the unusual security circumstances we're all finding ourselves in. She is indeed a modified Palpatine Class, incorporating lessons learned during the closing months of the Clone Wars and the Black Rebellion." Lynn answered smoothly, making sure everything she said was both the truth and public knowledge you could quickly find on the Holonet.
"Huh, it looks suspiciously like Imperial-class we're familiar with, though as you said, it has been heavily modified." Mr. Wellington nodded in understanding.
From what Lynn could gather, Wellington was a much more senior equivalent of herself. While he was technically a part of the European Union's Diplomatic Group, he also represented his parent nation, the United Kingdom. As if that wasn't enough, he was supposed to be the voice of what sounded like closely-knit former colonies, that had failed to fall apart like so many other nations on Earth.
From a political science standpoint, the whole mess that was Earth was incredibly interesting to study. It was just that, actually dealing with it in an official capacity was going to be much less fun. Hopefully, sooner rather than later, the Earthlings could agree to either a united government or more realistically, an organization that could represent anyone who mattered in their world. If they ever managed that, it would make all diplomats' lives much easier!
At that point, four large fighters slowly flew past the liner, falling beside it in an escort formation.
"Ms. Cetra, can you tell us something about our escort?" Mr. Winter inquired.
Lynn looked through the closest observation port. Indeed, there were small craft flying very close to the ship – obvious honor guard so to speak.
"The large one at the back with the boxy wings is one of the TIE series Sienar prototypes undergoing trials. From what I recall, that should be a fast interceptor meant to hunt gunboats and heavy bombers." Lynn smiled looking at the leading three fighters. Her brother flew one of those. "The rest are Mark One Corellian Phalanx Strike Fighters. They're distinguished space superiority and close air support birds."
"We're not in Kansas anymore." Winters nodded to himself. "Thank you, Ms. Cetra."
Lynn simply smiled in response and kept observing her charges. They were surprisingly composed for people having their first trip in space, much less being among the first representatives of their world to leave their star system.
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Part 4
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Firebird
Kestrel Class luxury liner
Mandalore System
"The movies were historical fiction at best, weren't they?" The Russian ambassador spoke quietly, in a clear, slightly accented English.
"It appears to be so." Winters quietly agreed. "Not that it would have mattered much if they were more accurate."
The Secretary of State knew for a fact that the deployment of a single 'assault ship' with attached ground forces and integrated fighter support, first to Canada, and then to Brockton Bay put to rest any hopes that they were dealing with a bluffing minor power. Or to put things into perspective, any minor power who had such assets to spare, was more than even a united Earth could handle.
Needless to say, Earth was anything but united, and very much crippled. As one of the people who knew the long term forecasts about the survival of human civilization on Earth, Winters had to do his best either to get the support needed to avoid the until now slow but inevitable collapse. Barring that, a way out for as many people, primary American citizens, as possible
Ironically enough, the quiet display of strength by the alien humans was if anything reassuring. The resources, technology and industrial might everything Winters saw implied were massive, and that was the best news Earth Bet had received in a very long time.
The luxury liner quickly paced through the distance between the blockade protecting the dimensional breach, and Mandalore, which was little more than a distant dot when they boarded this ship. They crossed a distance likely much larger that the one between Earth and the Moon, within a half hour, of what had to be leisure speed.
They approached the planet in a curve, passing by two long streams of gleaming stars. At the closest approach to them, Winter could barely make up the vague shape of the largest of them – which had to be cargo haulers of various stripes.
"That has to be mostly civilian and commercial traffic. You wouldn't want to mix up military ships with that, unless you're trying something sneaky." Winters heard the younger Russian speak with his senior colleague nearby.
The older man was Ambassador Sergei Korolev – one of the most experienced diplomats the Russian Federation had. His 'aide' had to be a spy send to keep his eyes and ears open for anything of use.
Said spy was probably right. It was as likely as not that not a single proper military ship monitored those traffic lanes, but instead they were the responsibility of a local Coast Guard equivalent. Or perhaps the Mandalorian Navy was responsible for everything connected with security in space, including customs duties.
What sources Winters had access to were vague at best, contradictory at worst, and obviously, had only vague relationship with reality. That at least made sense. It was pretty clear that while Lucas got ides about a real universe, much of the details both in his movies, and the extended books, and games were different. Considering that much of that material was done by various authors who likely had no connection with the Star Wars dimension, or the Corcusca one as some people wanted to call it…
Constelations of gleaming stars in orbit of Mandalore quickly grew into distinct shapes. Behind them, various details on the mostly desert world became clear as well, including large scars and fields of what had to be glass. The sheer firepower and capability needed to do such a thing to a planet beggared belief. That was especially true in the face of the heavy defenses the Earth delegation saw so far.
And the defenses Winters was seeing right now, he comprehended.
"Ms. Cetra, what show have you prepared for us?" Korolev asked first. "What are we looking at?"
"Most of the larger shapes already visible are the Mandalore's primary defense ring – a number of modified Gollan I and II stations. They're backed by heavy modified Lucrehulk hulls turned either into battle stations, missile bases of fighter and bomber stations. We turned several of them into orbital hydrophonic farms, following Naboo's example after the Third Battle of Naboo…" The young-looking woman paused and frowned. "Or, was it the fourth? Anyway, those are the primary stationary defenses. Here and there you might note a few of Mandal Motors new shipyards. Those we will be able to see should be among the new ones, mostly still under construction."
They did pass just close enough to various structures to make their vague shapes against the gleaming disc of Mandalore behind them, but that was it, until the liner came even closer to Mandalore. They headed towards a large concentration of gleaming shapes, and what to be two more steams of vessels – coming in for landing, and outgoing. Ye, considering the big visible scars, Mandalore shouldn't be holding too much population. The visible desert state of most of the planet tended to support such uneducated guess.
"We'll be beginning our final approach to Sundari shortly. We'll pass by elements of First and Home Fleets, currently on station above the Capital City." Cetra explained.
And that would give the Mandalorians further opportunity to show-off.
"Sweet Mother of God…" Someone among the English speaking part of the delegation muttered.
Winters blinked once, then twice, while his mind still tried to process what he was seeing. While he thought everything he had seen up until now prepared him, his mind still struggled with accepting this kind of truth.
First, there were the distinct dagger shapes of various Star Destroyers. Smaller gleaming ship acted as their escorts, barely seen due to the distance. Behind those, there was a much larger station, probably a Gollan II.
Yet, they all paled in compariso to an immense shape that hid a significant part of the planet behind it. From the distance, it appeared to be nothing more than either a vague mountain shape, or a huge chasm on the planet below. Instead, it was a prolonged and somewhat fattened form of a longsword that hung into orbit. A brood of Star Destroyers and smaller sips surrounded it like parasites attached to a whale.
"This is the newest incarnation of the Victory, Flagship of the Mandalorian Fleet, and Mandalore's Flag." Cetra proudly announced.
As they got closer, a deadly silent Earth delegation watched the immense concentration of power in increasing detail.
Rings of escorts, including whole groups of Star Destroyers surrounded the SSD. Dozens, if not hundreds tiny specks, slowly resolved into whole fighter squadrons on leisure patrol in the area.
While the liner approached, it got itself an ever increasing small craft escort until it looked like a small swarm followed it.
They soon passed just above the Victory, at an angle giving a great way to serrated rows of bristling weaponry, sensors and other more arcane equipment.
Winter's mouth opened and closed silently, lost for words, when he saw huge humanoid figures painted green inspect parts of the ship. Other acted in a way that suspiciously looked like polishing the armor of a tank just before parade.
If there were any doubts left in Winter's mind, this sight dispelled them. Such an effort would be hugely impractical for a mere deception, if at all possible. The journey continued in silence, including a smooth, barely felt descent through the upper atmosphere.
The liner broke through a reedy cloud cover, offering a breathtaking vista. They were descending rappidly above a desert ravaged by war. Large parts of it were little more than shattered glass, The black remains of destroyed settlements dotted the clearer parts of the landscape below.
In the distance, far away form where they were going, Winters could barely make he indistinct shapes of immense fortifications.
Finally, the liner banked to the right, and the Secretary of State saw their destination. Sundari had been a domed city, like sources on Earth claimed. Most of the dome was gone, and what was left was visibly under reconstruction. Many of the skyscrapers seen in the distance were either blackened crooked fingers rising into the air, or hidden by scaffolding, and the glow of tools working to restore them. There were even more of those huge green Droids working on rebuilding the city – there was no mistaking them even from this far off.
What's more, there was obviously a large space port on the other side of the city, because even from a distance, dual streams of landing and ascending craft could be seen thanks to the glow of their engines.
A pang of envy and regret struck Winters at this sight, and he was sure many of his colleagues suffered the same. While back home, every single of their countries got hit by Endbringers, often multiple times, the cases where they could fuel even a fraction of what they now saw in reconstruction, were few and far between. New York was the most famous example, but even then, the city was never really the same after the attack. While it survived, it was both scarred and changed by it.
Yet, the Mandalorians were in the process of rebuilding a megacity larger than any on Earth, on top of everything they had ongoing in orbit.
And this was just one planet, in a single star system they controlled.
No, Winters decided, nothing on Earth prepared him for the full implications of what he was about to face. And that gave him hope.