a/n two chapters together; I don;t do this too often, but twelve and thirteen go together and twelve in very short, while thirteen in very long. I hope you enjoy them, and thanks for the reviews.
Chapter Twelve
The Plett system was crowded, with dozens of ships large and small moving between the two habitable worlds of its seven, and more travelling in- and outwards to and from various jump points. Many of these vessels were massive freighters, carrying the products of the sector's forgeworlds, Actinus VII and Galatea Prime, to the mighty industrial manufactoriums of Plett V, and in turn shipping vital minerals and ores from the hub system's rich asteroid belts for smelting. Others were private craft of all shapes and sizes, property of the rich and titled, who came to spend their money and leisure time at the famed resorts on Plett III and IV. Some were passenger ships, transporting workers and leisure-seekers alike. Still others belonged to the Administratum and other branches of humanity's Byzantine many-tentacled government. Finally there was the local military, a full squadron of warships led by the battlecruiser Farago.
Amongst this crowd, even the arrival of a large former warship did not raise many eyebrows. So it was that Eyes of the Phoenix followed the automatic course feed towards her designated berth at the second of Plett IV's three orbiting stations without more than a cursory automated request for the captain's id and license. As Sara piloted her charge the last few kilometres to dock between two massive liners she was astounded by the sheer volume of traffic in the system. Even close to the stations there were dozens of small craft, tenders and flitters and skiffs, weaving a constant pattern about the stately passenger vessels. She wondered briefly what their pilots would make of the obviously military aspect of the latest arrival, then dismissed the thought; there were more than a few converted warships in the system, even if none matched Phoenix in size.
"Well, Janey, what do you think? A suitable place to celebrate?"
Janey looked, puzzled, at the big marine as he leant back in his seat. "What're we celevrating, Mr Morgan."
He chuckled. "I believe that one of us is about to turn eight?"
A squeal of delight, "Mr Morgan, you 'membered!" and his neck was wrapped in tiny arms. He caught Sara's eyes sparkling with merriment. An eager upturned face grinned impishly at him. He grinned back and reached into his utility belt.
"Of course we remembered. And I have a small gift for you before we go down." He handed her a small package, carefully wrapped in soft crimson cloth. She opened it cautiously, and her mouth opened soundlessly. She lifted up the small pendant on its golden chain. The Blood Angel hung delicate and deadly, sword in hand and rubies glittering on his enamelled wings.
"It's beautiful."
Sedreth smiled briefly at the compliment. "I had a good likeness to work from. And it has a tracer in it, so it will keep your safe."
Docking supervisor Rafa Sung watched as his crew expertly checked the umbilicals on Deuce Station's latest arrival. 'Eyes of the Phoenix' – a fanciful name for another fancy liner. He didn't recognise the name; not a regular docking then. Still, another couple of thousand passengers expecting the lowly dockworkers to stand to, to catch their unruly spoilt brats, and to generally act like servants. He felt the familiar resentment and as always assuaged it in the thought that rich gamblers paid for all the dockers and other staff. All of the station's personnel got a profit share – not a large one, but a share nonetheless – and it was pleasant to think that the arrogant visitors kept him and his family in the comfortable accommodations reserved for staff on Plett IV's smallest, eastern, continent. He gestured to his team as the all-clear flashed and the station's richly-dressed welcomers arrived, forming themselves up into two lines to greet the new arrivals with their synthetic smiles and professional sycophancy. The gaudily painted entrance hatch opened.
"Welcome, sirs and..,," the lead welcomer's voice trailed away. There was no-one on the other side of the hatch, just a long ramp, gleaming gun-metal in the lamps, leading up to a dark opening under what appeared to be a mass of carved feathers, all bronze and gold.
After a few seconds three figures walked through the opening and started down the ramp. The welcome party watched hesitantly as the tallest of the three resolved itself into a massive man, made even larger by the knee-length coat of soft grey fabric that stretched against his muscled shoulders and chest. He led the other two – a woman and girl-child – down the ramp, eyes alert.
Sung, watching, recognised a professional warrior from his own time in the Guard. But, Emperor's teeth, the man was huge, as big as a space marine; genetically enhanced, certainly. He realised as the warrior approached that this must be a bodyguard, and wondered who the other two were to rate such protection. Or to afford it. He looked more closely at the woman and child.
Both were dark-haired and neatly dressed; the woman in a close-fitting black jacket and pants beneath a black and silver cloak, the child in a pretty red dress and matching shoes. The little girl carried a small worn-looking stuffed animal in her left hand, her other hand firmly embedded in her mother's grasp. Behind them a small auto-transport bore half a dozen cases and bags.
Nothing special.
The lead welcomer stepped forward again. "Welcome, sir and ladies to Plett. We greet you in the Emperor's name."
The big man simply looked at him, then the woman nodded briefly. "Thank you. His Grace on you. Is there a purpose to this?" Her hand indicated the lines of servants.
The lead welcomer looked a bit nonplussed. "It is customary, sera. To welcome our visitors," she said,
The black-clad woman chuckled. "I see. That is most courteous. However, we do not require anything so grand. If you could direct us to registration so that we can go downplanet, that will more than suffice."
Sung managed to hide a smile.
"But, sera, are there no other passengers to debark?"
She shook her head. "No. Only myself and my companions are going planetside. The ship will remain sealed until we return."
The welcomer huffed at that. "That is most irregular. Liners should debark all their passengers."
"Eyes of the Phoenix is not a liner. She is my ship," said the woman politely but firmly. "And as a private vessel, she will remain docked and untouched until we return."
The welcomer's eyes almost popped out of her head, but she recovered her poise quickly. "A private vessel? Then she should have docked at a different location. Might I see your license, captain?"
The captain handed over some papers. Officials looked at them and paled. Sung wondered what was in the documents to cause that reaction.
"Of course, captain Tarken. That is all in order. The planetary shuttles leave every fifteen minutes from bay 17-four. That's seven floors above us."
The woman, Tarken, nodded. "Thank you. Morgan, do you have the bookings?"
The big man nodded and replied in a bass rumble, "Yes, captain." They looked tiny in his immense paw. This close, it was obvious he was close to three metres tall, and built like a wall, dominating the immediate area by sheer size. "We are booked at a resort called Duglass."
An expensive place, exclusive and quiet. Made sense, Sung thought, for someone who owned her own starship. He remained with his team as the three visitors disappeared in the direction of the station lifts; the welcomers headed off for their next assignment.
Left behind, the dockers looked at each other, then at the massive vessel.
Lyra broke the silence. "That's a warship. Or was. You could have thousand troops on that thing."
"I've never seen anything like it before," said old Gagniet. "Warships all have a 'share bow."
Sung looked at the great machine for a long minute, then suddenly chuckled. "It does. Someone just turned it upside down and carved it into an Imperial eagle." His communit beeped. "Alright people, let's get back to work. The Olympe is moving into dock, and you know what her captain's like."
The small group moved away with much good-natured grumbling. Behind them, Eyes of the Phoenix remained, sealed at dock and immune to the opinions of mortals.
The shuttle lounge was well-appointed, even luxurious, with thick carpets and wall paintings. What it was not, was crowded. There were just a handful of occupants; a couple who had eyes only for each other, a richly dressed man in his thirties with two obvious bodyguards, and a group of half a dozen richly accoutred women chatting nineteen to the dozen with wineglasses in their hands. There were also a couple of liveried servants, carrying round trays of drinks and hors d'ouvres.
The three of them walked in, Janey holding tight to her mother's hand. Sara gave a reassuring squeeze. Sedreth led them to a small occasional table surrounded by stuffed and comfortable chairs, and stood while his charges seated themselves. Janey looked round curiously.
There was scurry of servants and a group of richly-dressed people, surrounded by flunkies, came through the smoked-glass entrance doors. It was difficult to tell how many there were, such was the fluttering of servants, but it was clear that a tall dark-haired woman appeared to be in charge. She held a petulant-looking blond boy firmly by the hand and swept past the flunkies and through the docking gate. Sara and Sedreth exchanged glances then a liveried man whose uniform dripped with silver braid spoke to the room at large.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boarding will take place immediately. Please take your seats swiftly and ensure that all safety belts are fastened. Please board as your name is called. Lady 'sto Halet and party?"
The group of women drifted towards the entrance, apparently indifferent to the flunkies' attempts to hurry their progress.
"Ser and sera Helspruit?"
The couple, arm in arm, walked quickly to the boarding entrance, barely looking away from each other as they went through.
"Captain Tarken and party?" The three of them, Janey in the middle, walked through the entrance to a roped-off gangway, carpeted in blue, and walked up it onto a plushly-upholstered shuttle, also decorated in blues, with perhaps thirty seats. A curtain prevented them turning left, and a pretty woman escorted them right and up a wide aisle to a group of carefully arranged seats by the starboard windows. The chattering women were grouped ahead of them to port, and the couple shared a large double seat across the aisle. There was no sign of the other group. As they took their seats the single man and his bodyguards were escorted to a small area just ahead of them.
People came round with trays of drinks as the shuttle moved smoothly away from the station.
Janey ignored them, peering out of the large window. "Mummy, I can see Phoenix. And the station. Mr Morgan, is that the main comms array?"
Sedreth shook his head. "No, Janey. It is an auxiliary scan, I think. The main comms array is there." He pointed.
The man near them watched the conversation for a few moments, then leant across.
"Captain, Tarken, is it? Your companion seems well-versed in station layouts."
Sara looked at him, then shrugged. "Most stations are similar, ser..?"
"Charlois Corten. The fourth. At your service. You do not seem to be the typical visitor to Plett, if I may make the observation."
She smiled slightly. "It is our first visit. A treat for my daughter's birthday."
"Ah. Then I wish you all a pleasant stay. You will find the resorts have many entertainments for the young. And the not so young, of course. The tables at Silver Suns are justly famed."
Sedreth glanced over, one huge hand protectively touching Janey's slight shoulders. "Gambling is foolish; you can lose more than money. There are dangers enough in the universe without adding to them by stupidity."
The man chuckled dismissively, then slowed to a silence under a cold blue-grey stare. His two guards tensed. Sedreth simply looked at them, the dismissive glance of the alpha predator. The brief confrontation was broken by a feminine laugh.
"Sharley, are you getting yourself in trouble again?" The woman sat down in a seat across the aisle and grinned merrily at Sara, obviously not entirely sober. "He does this all the time; probing and questioning. One day he'll run into someone who takes serious objection to his lack of manners, and then his guards will have to earn their pay."
She held out an elegantly jewelled hand. "Susanna 'sto Helit, by the way. Call me Suze."
"Sara Tarken. My daughter Jane, and my security chief, Morgan.",
"Enchanted, my dear. Your birthday is it? And how old are you?"
"I'll be eight, sera." Janey looked slightly nervous.
Susanna 'sto Helit smiled. "A delightful age. An age I remember with great affection. I wish you a very happy birthday, my dear."
"Thank you, sera," answered Janey shyly. She moved closer to Sedreth's comforting security. The woman smiled briefly.
"Enchanted to meet you all. I'll let you get back to your conversation." She stood and walked back to her chattering group. Corten watched her go with a strange expression. He looked at them.
"You'll be a subject of speculation for the next day or two, of course. Suze and her friends gossip about anything that is different from their routine. I hope you enjoy your holiday, captain Tarken. If I may offer a word of advice?"
Sara raised an eyebrow.
"That is a beautiful pendant your daughter wears, but others can recognise Baal rubies, and understand their provenance." He nodded politely to Sedreth and returned to his own seat, taking his bodyguards with him.
The sun was bright, a white-gold disc in the pale blue sky. The three of them walked along stone-flagged pavement, a luggage transport dutifully following behind. Sara consulted the automap.
"Next turn on the left."
It was large, stone-walled in gleaming white, with pale tiles that reflected the sunshine in rippling rainbows. A large expanse of green grass bordered with flowers of every colour stretched before and around the villa, blue awnings throwing shadows across the garden.
"Wow," said Janey. "Are we really going to stay here?"
Sara nodded. "For a couple of weeks, darling."
"What's that noise, mummy?"
Sara paused. A soft rushing noise was just audible, from somewhere past the little villa. She didn't recognise it. "I don't know. I've never heard it before."
Sedreth chuckled from Janey's other side.
"You know what it is, Mr Morgan, don't you?"
"Yes. Once we have settled in – and eaten – I shall show you both."
And all Janey's importunings could not shake him from that decision.
"Emperor, but this is.. incredible. Do people actually live like this all the time?" asked Sara, looking round the sybaritic rooms.
Sedreth nodded. "It is natural to desire a little comfort and ease from the stresses and toils of work. This sort of luxury rapidly tends towards hedonism, however. It is not something to get used to. Humans need to earn what we have, else we are no more than parasites. We need to know that we are worthwhile."
She nodded. "Still, for a short break."
"For a short time, in a good cause, yes, it is perfectly natural to enjoy ourselves. Talking of which, I believe we were going to see something?"
She nodded and called for Janey.
The brightly sunlit streets looked weird; Janey had never seen green grass before. Grass should be blue, she thought. The pretty flowers along the green borders were nice though. She held tight to mummy's hand as the three of them walked along the red- and blue-paved street. The rushing noise was getting louder. Mr Morgan turned left and they stopped.
"Oh."
The first thing that she thought was how far it was. Endless blue water hazing into a distant paler blue sky. A grey-paved street and a low wall, more of the green grass, and a long expanse of pale yellow-white..sand? It was... huge. She barely felt her feet move as they walked forward, the green grass tickling her toes between the holes in her sandals. Water ran up the sand in little waves and bigger ones. There were dozens of people lying on the warm sand, most of them wearing nothing but undies. She felt a giggle starting deep in her chest as Mr Morgan led her and mummy towards the endless water. She tried to stop it, even put her hands to her mouth, but then she was laughing and running beside Mr Morgan, as he swung her up in huge bounds until they were right beside the water and it was running up onto her feet and running away again in a cold tickly feeling. She turned to look at mummy who was standing a little behind her looking amazed and happy. Janey laughed aloud as more water ran over her toes. Mummy walked the few steps to them and took her other hand.
"It speaks to something primal in all of us," said Mr Morgan quietly. "No matter who we are and what we've seen, the ocean is a source of wonder. I've seen men stand, just looking, for hours the first time they see it."
She nodded, looking up at the big man. "Did you?"
He shook his head. "Not really. I grew up by the sea. My father was a fisherman. I grew up loving and hating it."
"How? How can you hate something like this?" she asked, holding out her hand towards the sheer wonderment that was endless water.
He chuckled softly. "The ocean is beautiful, but it can be deadly. It killed my father, and wore out my mother. But at the same time I find it hard to resist. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd stayed. Would the galaxy have noticed one more fisherman?"
Mummy smiled softly, sadly. "The galaxy might not have noticed, but we would be dead. I'm glad you didn't."
She squeezed Mr Morgan's hand and he looked down at her. "So am I," he said. "So am I.
They stood there for ages, just watching the water come in and go out, feeling the warm sun and the soft salty breeze. It was getting dark and she was getting tired when Mr Morgan picked her up and they all went back to the villa.
Janey woke early, the sun streaming through the gap in her curtains. She giggled to herself; another day at the beach. Then she remembered. She flung back the covers and ran through to use the toilet. She was bigger today. She was eight. She looked at herself in the mirror; she didn't look any different. But she felt different. Maybe she'd have green wee. Or blue poo. She giggled at the thought, and turned on the shower, still giggling to herself.
It wasn't any different. She was sort of disappointed, but it was still nice to be Janey. Wrapped in a big fluffy towel, she went back through to her bedroom.
"Mummy, mummy, come quick."
Mummy came through really fast. "What is it, darling?"
"Look!" She pointed to the small pile of brightly wrapped packages on her bed.
Mummy laughed. "Oh. I wonder who those could be for. You should look."
She bounced onto the bed, looking at ribbons and labels. "Mummy, they're for me! They're all for me."
Mr Morgan's deep voice rumbled from behind mummy. "How many are there, Janey?"
She counted. "There's eight. Eight presents 'cos I'm eight." She laughed, bouncing on the big soft bed.
"Which are you going to open first?" asked mummy.
She grinned and pointed at a blue and yellow package with sparkles on it. "That one."
It was the fourth package that made her pause, after the pretty doll and the new dress and the cloak that matched mummy's. A really pretty pair of sparkly earrings. Mummy smiled at her. "You'll have to get your ears pierced to wear those."
She looked up. "What's pierced?"
"A little hole in the bottom of the ear. Like mine," mummy showed her, taking out the green and gold stud from her own ear.
"Does it hurt?"
"It stings a little bit. But it's traditional where your daddy comes from, that girls have their ears pierced on their eighth birthday."
"Did you, mummy?"
"No, darling. Mine were done when your daddy and me agreed to get married. He made these studs for me himself, as a betrothal gift."
She felt suddenly sad. "I wish he'd made mine. I wish he was here."
Mr Morgan nodded. "He would be proud to know that his daughter is following in his family traditions." She thought about that for a few minutes.
"Can I get it done now?"
"Of course. Do you wish to open the rest of your presents first?"
"No. I want to make Daddy proud. Daddies are more important than presents."
Mummy hugged her.
It did sting, a bit, but she couldn't help looking at herself in the glass fronts of all the shops as they walked back. The earrings reflected all sparkly in rainbows of green and blue. Mummy said they were made from em'ralds, but she didn't really care. What mattered was that daddy would have wanted her to wear them.
Later, after she'd opened the other presents, they all sat in the big comfy sofas and watched her new holo projector as it showed Holy Terra slowly spinning. She had the new knife Mr Morgan had given her strapped to her forearm. It was really sharp – 'fractal-edged' Mr Morgan called it – and had the aquila engraved on the blade. The winged talon of the Legion shone gold on its scabbard. A proper fighting dagger, like a space marine. She snuggled into mummy's warm comfort and watched the Emperor's Palace until her eyes got heavy and it was time for bed.