Thursday, April 21, 2011

Intro 3: Bonds of Loyalty

Chapter 3: Bonds of Loyalty
2481 C. E.
BATTLECRUISER VINDICATOR
CONFEDERATE EXPEDITIONARY FLEET “LAMBDA”
LONFER SYSTEM, CONFEDERATE SPACE

Anders’ fleet had made it. Their warp jump was a success and they were now close to the Sara system, located in a safe, Confederate-controlled, sector. Those who made it on the ships were relieved and relaxed. Only the ghosts were still detached and cold, but Williams was showing signs of relative ease compared to 12 hours earlier. Chester was thinking of quitting space travel and getting back to the university on Umoja. Paskirov was glad his admiral was not incompetent enough to botch the escape. Summers was glad he was alive.
Procedure dictated that now Anders reported to Confederate officials with a summary on the mission. The old admiral was sure that the Confederates would be astounded to find out of the strange life forms the fleet had encountered, as well as of the fact that this elite ghost unit was brought back to the rightful loin of their government. He let himself wonder what honours they would give him or what new fleet he would be put in charge of with the task of conquering those arrogant Protoss in the name of Confederate rule. He imagined glorious battles against the daring enemy and magnificent victories on terrifying unknown worlds. When the Confederacy gave him the force, he would reclaim the artifact and avenge the humiliation of captivity. History was before him and he smiled at the thought of entering it.
Following procedure, the fleet headed for Lonfer V, where the orbital platforms they started from were located. Lonfer was a system without any inhabitable planets and its strategic significance came from its position in the Koprulu sector. It was a good place for making an outpost, so earlier, in the 2400’s, the Confederacy had initiated the construction of orbital platforms where armed forces would reside. Although there were no people living on the surface, systems such as Sara were nearby, that were more populated and the Confederates found it useful to have armed forces that would remind their denizens whose space it was.
The ships approached Lonfer V close enough and an incoming transmission interrupted Anders’ thoughts. The personnel on the Lonfer V platforms were prompting the flagship for protocol information before the Terrans could dock.
‘Copy that, Vindicator. I have forwarded your request to see an official and the governance has arranged a meeting between Admiral Anders, the highest ranking officer of the corps you had rescued, and a Confederate official. The meeting will take place four hours after docking,’ a nameless dispatcher from the other side of the line informed them.
‘Excellent!’ Anders said aloud with a wide smile. ‘All ships to head for the docks' terminal one!’
The surviving ships moved to the vast port. In fact, above the planet, there were two complexes of orbital platforms, on opposite sides of the planet. They were moving in geostationary orbit so as to maintain a regularity of life and to make sure that whichever hemisphere a Confederate ship found itself above, it had where to go without having to travel to the other side of the planet.
The planet itself was dark blue and green. It had almost no clouds, nor any water. Its atmosphere was very thin, making it uninhabitable, and so far there were no ores or minerals discovered on the surface that were worth the mining operations.
Terminal two of the Lonfer orbital platforms was a huge cluster of steel rails, boxes, towers, and giant structures that served to maintain Confederate shipping. It housed many warships and other military vessels on its numerous, seemingly chaotic docks, and in the living quarters, there were also soldiers of the garrison, ready to embark on a mission at any given time.
The fleet was guided to a free section of this huge station and soon the ships began to be repaired and the wounded began to be taken to better treatment than the fleet allowed. Anders, along with the captains of the other ships and important officers, like Paskirov or Summers, were summoned to a special room in the administrative quarter. There, they had to give a full explanation of what happened for the records of the government.
Anders made Phry begin with the mundane summary of where the fleet had gone before they got the distress signal. The admiral then interrupted and continued with the interesting part, often betraying his pride during the narrative. He talked about the rescue and found himself periodically stopped by the Confederate commissar in a tuxedo who introduced himself as Mr. Greene, in case any other officer had anything to add to the story. When he mentioned the Protoss' initial threats, Greene took the ground from the old man and gave it to Williams.
'I would like to hear Captain Williams' record on what happened after he left his respective base for space.'
Williams then began talking about the planets his batallion was on and the training that ensued there. He moved on to the finding of the temple and of the sphere, mentioning how he luckily stumbled upon it in one of the murky halls. He finished with repeating what had happened up to the meeting with the Protoss.
Anders proceeded with the tale of the captivity and the weakening of the guards that facilitated the escape. When he began talking about the escape, however, he did not say anything about being attacked by a Protoss in the woods - on the contrary, he spoke how he quickly reached the ships and decided to arm the men by his own initiative, not mentioning Summers.
To this, Summers got up to protest.
'But...'
'Anything to say, lieutenant Summers?' Greene asked.
'Sir, it was I who ordered the men to arm up. I got to the battlecruiser before the admiral and issued the order,' he said, trembling.
'Is that true, admiral?' Greene inquired in an emotionless tone.
'Not at all, Commissar Greene! He is lying,' the old man said as if to defend himself from injustice. Paskirov felt burning in anger.
'Who can confirm what the lieutenant said?' the commissar asked.
'I can,' he stood up. He had tolerated plenty of abuse from his superiors, but this was too much.
'I can testify that lieutenant Paskirov is lying, commissar!' the colonel next to Anders stood up, in turn. 'And so can the men around me.'
Phry and a few others also stood up in support. Paskirov looked at Steve's nervous face and then at the impersonal expression of the commisar.
'Commissar, may I suggest that lieutenant Summers is telling a lie?' the colonel said.
Paskirov's stomach turned upside down, but Steve's expression was even more petrified. The two were in a lot of trouble.
'I will consider your accusation, colonel Jones,' Greene continued, ever coldly. 'But now, let us continue. Lieutenant Summers may consider himself excluded from the meeting as of now.'
Summers had no choice but to leave, stricken by fear and anxiety. For the rest of the meeting, Boris did every effort to stay calm, despite his anger.
***
LONFER V ORBITAL PLATFORMS
LONFER SYSTEM, CONFEDERATE SPACE
In the evening, Summers got news. He and Paskirov were demoted to sergeants. Upon hearing this, Boris was not surprised.
'Yep, I thought it would happen. I should have followed mom's advise and been a merchant,' he concluded in disdain.
'Well, don't be so sad. At least we still have it. We,' Chester tried to cheer him up.
'I cannot argue that that is, indeed, good. Cheer up, man, YOU aren't a personal enemy to Anders,' Summers said. 'What shall we do about it?'
'Right. Nothing better to do. This fleet is going to the devil anyway.'
'I contacted my friends at the U-place,' Chester mentioned.
'You what!?'Boris almost screamed. 'Don't you realize that they read every single transmission that leaves this station?'
'Don't worry, Boris, I had it encrypted! In several ways. I even used a language that no Confederate knows, it's fine, relax.'
'What did they say?' Summers asked.
'They want to see the sphere. Nothing more. I have high expectations, though.'
'Nice, I'm in then,' Paskirov said. 'My prospects in this army shrunk anyway.'
'They will even be happy to see our top secret friends, the ghosts. As you know, Umoja is not in good relations with the Confederacy, so they will be more than happy to give asylum to a group of elites. The guys on the other side promised things like good, liberal treatment and so on,' Chester continued.
'Well, Williams coming is essential, then. Although, I cannot guarantee that they will come,' Summers remarked.
'We will have to make him come with us,' Paskirov continued.
'Defect?' Summers said in a low voice.
'Yes, defect,' Paskirov responded quietly. 'I, for one, am sick of this Confederacy anyway. Not only that, but a few more years with such command and I may not get to know how old age feels like. I'm ready to have a little break. Don't forget what happened to our careers, too.'
'Well, you two know that I'm coming with you, especially in a direction that will lead me away from Anders.'
'Pleased to hear that, pal. Now, what of Williams? His decision determines all,' Chester said.
'We will make an offer to Captain Williams. We will tell him about Umoja. What benefits do the kind professors offer to a retired elite sharpshooter, again?' Paskirov asked Chester.
'No more fighting, permanent residence under a new identity, studying him- which could maybe be eliminated from the contract - and maybe covert ops agains his former employers. And a good pay just because he is a nice guy.'
'Right. We needed to know what to tell him, thanks. Tonight seems a good moment, Steve, what do you say?' Chester suggested.
'Wow, fast. But sure, why not. Finish the paperwork and go recruit lucky souls for the cause?' Summers said and made the recruitment officer's posture.
'Your Confederacy needs you, young man,' Paskirov answered with a mock serious tone, 'And one day, your service will pay off in privileges and honor. Yeah, right.'
***
Later, Paskirov and Stevens met near the terminal towards the docked vessels. The ghosts were still aboard the Vindicator, awaiting tomorrow, when their future would be decided. It probably already was, Paskirov thought, so all that would happen tomorrow were formalities. And maybe an escape, if it all worked out.
They went to Williams, who had received their call and was waiting for their offer.
'Captain, we know you are a good man,' Boris began.
'...a man of his word, who does not waste time and resources...' Summers continued.
'Just tell me,' Williams interrupted him.
'Ah, good. You see, we are unhappy about what these Confederates are doing with us. It's preporterous. I am generally loyal, but I cannot tolerate this kind of thing you saw in the meeting today,' Paskirov continued.
'Yes?'
'We will desert. Me, Summers, and Chester. We are going to Umoja, to seek our fortune there.'
'And you want me to come?' Williams said.
'Yes, we do. We invite you to join the Umojans. We guarantee better treatment than what the Confederacy gives you,' Summers proceeded. 'Because your life up to now has not been enjoyable, has it?'
Boris was astounded at what his friend was attempting. Threading on Williams' past, which was undoubtedly unpleasant, risked ending the conversation with a failure. The ghost was looking downwards.
'Basically, yes, we want to know if you will join us. Preferrably with your men,' he returned to the topic, throwing an angry look at Summers.
'Look...' the ghost began. 'Generally, I also disapprove of what Anders did, and furthermore of how the Confederate tolerated that. And yes, I don't like how this whole army works. However...'
'Yes?'
'I belong to it. I cannot just leave it. It is my duty to stay here.'
Boris could feel the ideological rhetoric that must have been imprinted in the ghost's mind showing up.
'But, think about your men! They deserve a better life,' Steve continued.
'Wait. There is another thing you might want to know about that sphere you found, captain,' Boris interrupted.
Williams looked attentively.
'What?'
Boris took a deep breath and said,
'We have it.'
The ghost's facial expression did not change, but his pupils dilated.
'You? Have? It?' he uttered. 'But how?'
'It's a long story, really. Suffice to say, we are taking it with us to the Umojans. They will know what to do with it, wouldn't they?' Paskirov finished the bold maneuver. Silence ensued.
'Well, this changes the situation. So you offer me to come with you and participate in the research on the sphere?' Williams mocked them.
'Not quite. We just want you to know that there is a good chance that Umoja gains huge advantages over the Confederacy, through the possession of the sphere. We don't know what they are, but still, you will be closer to it if you come with us,' Summers explained.
'You two realize that I can betray you and get a significant promotion, don't you?' Williams tried to gain the initiative in the talk.
'Yes,' Boris replied calmly. 'But we know that you would never cooperate with the Confederates for that, because you dislike them and because you will still be separated from it.'
Williams smiled.
'True. You are correct... Lieutenant. I think I will join you. My men have been trained to be more loyal to me than to anybody else. You need not doubt them. How shall we leave for Umoja?'
'First, pleased to have you with us, captain. Second, we are still thinking about that. But don't worry, in less than 24 hours you will know.'
'In less than 24 hours me and my men will be flying to a classified destination in a classified vessel. And I will not be able to object to that, lieutenant.'
'Very well, we will find a solution as soon as possible. We have an Umojan with us, after all,' Paskirov smiled and left the ghost.
The two went to Chester and informed him on how the situation was developing. Paskirov's plan was to smuggle the ghosts into a transport ship and then kidnap it as it was leaving, forcing it to make a warp jump for Umoja instead. Chester immediately got to work. He hacked into the Confederate network and looked for any vessel that could do. An old freighter by the name of "Dylarian Pride" was using the right time and had enough space for the hundred ghosts to go in, as it did not carry anything. It was decided, that Chester was to provide cover for them from any security cameras, as well as procedural inconsistencies, by changing Confederate registries in the complex. Paskirov, Summers, and Williams, were then to go aboard and wait for when the ship was still having its warp engines warmed up to take it over and force the crew to re-configure the destination coordinates to Umoja. Chester was to get into the system from a cable cluster close to the Dylarian Pride's dock and enter the ship with the others, before it flew away.
The time for the escape came. The ghosts were taken out without unnecessary noise, their discipline astounding Paskirov, while Chester was providing digital cover from inside the network. They got in the empty cargo bay, made sure that it was set to transporting organic material, and called Chester. A minute later, he ran in through a personnel door, sweating, his hands shivering from adrenaline.
'Almost got intercepted, wow!' He exclaimed between his heavy breathing. 'I was extremely lucky the guy out there could not react appropriately. Or we were done with.'
'What happened?' Boris asked.
'Well, as I was re-configuring the settings for the cameras in the local network... Long story short, they almost saw me. But I made it look like it was a system error. So don't worry, all will be fine.'
'Are you sure?' the ghost asked with suspicion.
'More than anybody else here, captain,' Chester replied.
Now, all that remained was for the vessel to be flown away from here.
Several hours later, the liftoff began. Chester thought of attaching himself to the ship's communications, but was still frightened and decided not to take any risks. The four were awake in one corner of the cargo bay, waiting for the slight change in gravity that would indicate moving away from the orbital platforms' gravity generators and switching to the ships' own.
Summers observed the ghosts that were sitting in various places throughout the bay. They were like machines, he thought, perfectly silent and emotionless. Only rarely did some of them change direction of looking. He wondered what adamantine training could produce such soldiers of steel. Then, he felt lighter for a few seconds.
'Here we are,' Paskirov observed.
'Estimated time before securely in warp jump position: one hour,' Chester said.
The minutes were sifting away and the four were waiting. When the time came, the four began preparing. Chester hacked in the ship and started messing with the antennae.
'This will mess their transmissions. In case anybody up there calls for an emergency.'
Paskirov, Summers, and Williams loaded their pistols and set them to red. The ghost also took out a long commando knife, vintage model, and tucked it in his boot. The others watched it in silence.
'The guys on the bridge are done chatting with the control tower. They are beginning to input coordinates. You three wanna go?' Chester reported.
'Right. Fingers crossed, pal,' Paskirov said.
'Oh, and there's six people total on the ship. I mean, except for us.'
'Right. Very valuable advice,' Paskirov replied. 'Ready?'
'Yep,' Summers stood up.
'Yes,' Williams turned to the door.
'Mister wizard, be ready to come when we call you,' Paskirov told Chester and led the other two out of the bay and into the bridge.
They went to a corridor and proceeded on it until the deviation for the bridge. As they climbed the stairs, they stumbled upon a durty crew member with a moustache and a wrench.
'Stand still!' Summers said coldly, aiming the pistol at him.
The guy raised his hands in fear, not wanting a confrontation. Summers hit him in the head and the man fall away from consciousness. They found a nearby room and locked him in. Moving on, they heard a voice.
'Hey!'
It was a slim young man in a boiler suit. Not waiting for him to call for help and alert their presence, Williams raised his gun and shot him in the leg. The man fell down as the three ran to him.
'I suggest you sit back in the cargo bay and wait, pal. We are not here to do you any harm. We just need the ship, okay?' Summers told him.
The poor fellow nodded in affirmation, because he had his jaws clinched from the pain, and the three hauled him to the ghosts, Williams ordering them to not let him get away. Then, they moved on.
At the door to the bridge, the three nodded and braced up.
The door opened. Summers and the ghost rushed in and immediately grabbed a crew member each, aiming the pistol at their heads. Paskirov ran forwards to the navigaiton console and aimed his gun at the frightened pilot.
'Do as we say, or you all die!'
'No way, man, this is just some kind of dumbass joke, you guys better leave this place or I'm telling the Conf...' the pilot began, but a shot interrupted him.
Williams, who was holding the co-pilot by the head and had his mouth shut with his hand, had fired a shot into his leg, dispersing any doubts in the head of the pilot.
'Wow, man, relax, okay? Alright, it's all cool, I'm here. I read you.'
'Good. Now, listen up. Wait, where's the last guy?' Paskirov suddenly wondered and looked to the door.
As he did, the pilot quickly leaned towards one of the boxes on the ground and, seeing this, Summers shouted.
'Boris!'
Paskirov immediately turned and with a kick right behind the pilot's knee took him down.
'Hey, no stupid moves! That's our deal!' He threatened the man on the ground. 'Where's number six, again?'
The pilot coughed and tried to stand up, but just leaned on the seat. For several seconds he was looking at the ground, everybody expecting him to say anything, when the door of the bridge opened again, and a two-meter tall man with the face of a wild boar and the physique that could match that of an armoured Protoss entered.
'Hey, who are you?' He said in wonder.
'Bobby, beware!' Summers' hostage managed to shout out.
When Bobby heard that, he seemed to realize that the three officers probably were not friends and told them.
'Let my friends go.'
Williams returned the threatening look without a response. The giant then roared at the ghost and rushed forwards, fists flying in the air. In response, the ghost just ducked sideways and swung a kick straight into the man's fat abdomen. Paskirov could see Bobby's face turn red as he struggled for oxygen on the ground. Williams stepped with one of his legs over Bobby's throat and said coldly.
'Bobby don't move, okay?'
'Call the wiz kid, Boris,' Summers yelled.
'Right,' Boris replied and turned the lighting of the ship on and off three times from the console. Two minutes later, Chester arrived.
'I thought we hit something, what happened?' He began, but stopped when he looked at Bobby lying on the ground. 'Oh, I see. Makes me feel sorry for the ship's gravity generators... So, you guys ready to change course?'
'Where the hell are you taking us?' the Pilot yelled.
'It's a surprise,' Paskirov replied, moving him aside so as to let Chester dictate him the new coordintes. The pilot entered them and, without any suspicion on the side of the powerful Confederate orbital station nearby, the old ship entered warp space.
***
FREIGHTER SHIP DYLARIAN PRIDE
UMOJA SYSTEM, UMOJAN SPACE
SEVERAL HOURS LATER

The Dylarian Pride exited it several thousand kilometers from Chester's homeworld, on its dark side. They could not see the terrain or the environment, but they could see the night lights of the world ahead of them. There were several big spots of brightness on the black surface, one bigger than them all. It was located near the end of the dark area, close to the edge of the planet. It was, as Chester explained, the capital city, and its distinct shape of a star with six thin rays was distinguishable even from orbit.
'So, who are we meeting there, again?' Paskirov asked.
'The rector of the university. He's a vital figure in Umoja, he plays an important role in a facility that plays an important role on its own. He will see the sphere and talk to other vital people in the government,' Chester explained.
'And they will?' Summers asked.
'I expect them to run some tests on it, no more than a day, and then, when they see that it is, indeed, alien, to reward us and also to send an expedition to that old planet where we found Williams.'
'Are you certain that we three will be in this expedition, Chester?' Paskirov said with a critical expression.
'Almost. You can be sure that I will testify to your capabilities, and furthermore, you DO have military experience. From the Confederacy. And Williams is a specialist, come on! There is no way that Umoja will refuse your services, guys.'
'It would be nice if we keep the sphere for US...' Summers continued.
'I would not worry. To the very least, they can let us see it in the lab whenever we want.... And whenever they are not running tests on it of some sort.'
'I've got reservations, kid,' Williams sighed.
'I hope they are less than those you had when you started working for the Confede...' Chester began, but paused in the middle, trying to avoid mentioning the ghost's past.
'Let's stick to the flight for now, shall we?' Summers moved the topic. 'The antennae work, right?'
'Yes, as much as they possibly can. I made sure,' the Umojan replied.
When the distance between them and the planet halved, the ship received an incoming transmission. It contained the welcome message for the arrivals.
'You have entered Umojan space. Identify yourself,' a female voice rung in the speakers.
'This is...' he paused with a hint of nervousness before saying his name, 'Chester Fitzpatrick in the vessel "Pale Pantheron" speaking. Class of 2477 of the Umojan University, I am here for the package. Cold skalet.'
'Roger that, Pale Pantheron, we are welcoming you to Umoja. Please proceed to the starport at Umoja city, we will give you details about the landing shortly.'
'I copy that. Is anybody going to wait for us?'
'I have no information on that, Pale Pantheron. Over and out,' the woman closed.
The Dylarian pride landed under the yellow morning sky. The four left the transport ship to the government jeep that was waiting for them a hundred meters away. The ghosts were taken to the starport to get something to eat, while the captain, the lieutenants, and the scientist headed to the University.
The Umojan capital was an amazing place of science and commerce. Its streets were wide and clean, it had a multitude of trees, and the buildings were, if not as big as, at least as awe-inspiring as those in Paskirov's home Tarsonis. The predominant white and aqua facades glistened under the orange sky and the bright yellow sun. As the jeep moved on through the picturesque boulevards, Summers tried to talk to the driver.
'Are you from the government, or from the University?'
The driver, however, remained silent, and the lieutenant did not make further comments. Chester, on the back seat, was pointing at different places and explaining to Boris what they were.
The jeep finally arrived in front of a tall, wide rectangular building. A row of columns stood in front of its facade, running throughout its whole length. In the middle, there were three front doors, through which the group was taken by a new man from the university. He greeted themHe led them in the interior, along corridors and hallways, until they stopped in front of a mahogany door.
'This is Rector Michelson's cabinet,' the butler-looking man explained. 'He is waiting for you inside.'
They entered. The furniture inside it was made entirely out of wood, from the panels on the walls, to the library and the massive bureau in front of the window. The chair was facing the direction opposite to the door - to the only window - and as they walked inside the cabinet, the person in it turned towards them and stood up.
He was old, about the age of Anders, Paskirov noted, but the similarities ended there. The rector was neither as big, nor as arrogant as the admiral. On the contrary, he was rather short and skinny, with a white goatee and a bald head. He had glasses and wore an eccentric suit. He fit perfectly in his cabinet, Paskirov thought.
'So, mister Fitzpatrick. Pleased to meet you again! How was your career with the Confederacy?' Michelson asked with a devilish smile.
'Oh, it was fine. Of course, I almost got killed. My fleet was captured by aliens, you see, and... Well, my friends have had it even harder.'
'Aah, very interesting. I am sure that they will confirm that, but first, you are here for something,' the rector said.
'Yes, we are,' Chester replied and opened his bag, taking the sphere out of it.
'Ohhhh,' Michelson stood amazed, 'Indeed, it is wondrous. Yes, yes...'
'We thought that Umoja cared about things like this and we wanted to offer our services in finding more,' Paskirov began.
'Oh, you are the defected lieutenants, I presume. Excuse me, I was flabbergasted by the arcane nature of this... artifact... I am James Michelson, pleased to meet you.'
The officers formally introduced themselves and then the rector went to them, still holding the sphere.
'Will you mind telling me everything that happened while I take this to our laboratories?' He smiled.
'No, of course,' Summers responded and began the long narrative of Expeditionary Fleet "Lambda"'s recent peripeties. Michelson was extremely attentive while they were walking through the often luxurious corridors and often interrupted Summers to ask questions of his own, especially regarding the Protoss. The aliens seemed to interest the rector very much and Paskirov could distinguish a tone of respect in his voice whenever he spoke of them. Boris also began suspecting the rector of taking unnecessary deviations through the labyrinthine interior of the vast building of the university, when the five saw that the setting had changed. The corridors were now exceptionally sterile white and the rooms were housing mostly scienfitic equipment.
'Gentlemen, this is Doctor Black, of the physics department,' the rector introduced a fourty-year old black-haired man in a white coat. 'If you do not mind, he will have the sphere for the rest of the day. We will give it back to you, you have my word.'
Boris and Steve exchanged looks, but there were no objections from the four and they followed the leaving rector.
'Now, lunch time is approaching and I suppose you are all looking forward to eating?' Michelson said.
'Well, maybe too early for that, sir,' Summers replied.
'Then why not we go back to my cabinet and you tell me what happened at the escape?'
He took them all the way back, swallowing all the details about the escape and the descriptions of the Protoss and the alien temple. Boris felt he was right and that this time the old man was going in a much straighter line. The talk finished while they were again in the room.
'I am most impressed by what you have accomplished, gentlemen. I can only admire your courage... Lieutenant Summers, in the midst of the events. And these Protoss you speak of... I am sure that we could learn much from their skills,' Michelson smiled with a tone of amazement and joy. 'But enough of interrogating, maybe you would like to ask me something?'
'When do you bring my men here?' Williams asked coldly.
'Anytime you want, captain. We can arrange room for them tonight in our dormitories. Do you insist?'
'Yes, I do. Nothing personal, rector,' Williams responded in his even tone.
'Done! I will call the friends at the airport and all will be fine. They will be in the Hexagonal hall, Chester, you should show them where that is. Now, sirs, I will go eat. You may follow me in the faculty cafeteria, or you may enjoy being strangers in the big public one.'
'We think we will go to the normal place, your honor, thank you,' Chester replied. 'I will give them a tour of the university while the tests are complete.'
'Rector...' Paskirov began, 'Me and my friend will want to know what Umoja is planning to do about this artifact... And how it will affect us. What can you tell us about our future in your world?'
Michelson stood back pensively and turned to the lieutenant.
'To be most accurate, Lieutenant Paskirov, the nature of the artifact will decide that. In the improbable event of the sphere being nothing unusual, I'm afraid we will call it a good day and leave you three be. But, simply looking at it, I think the other possibility will be true and Umoja will find a job for you. What the job will be, I cannot tell. Other people have a heavier voice than mine in the taking of decisions here. I will inform them, of course, of your tale. I will tell them everything about the aliens. But it depends on them.'
'When?' Boris said with hope.
'Tonight. We are not the Confederacy, lieutenant. We take things like this seriously. I will be presenting the sphere, your story, and the results of the labs to them as early as tonight. They immediately decided it when we got Chester's transmission. Fear not - tomorrow you shall have an answer,' Michelson concluded.
'Right,' Boris murmured.
'Now, I am off. You can all stay in the hexagonal building, I will inform the personnel about you four and about the captain's men. In several hours, it will be ready. Until the evening,' the rector said and invited them to leave.
'Nice...' Chester murmured with a smile. 'Do you want a tour after we eat?'
'Yeah, why not? It will kill some time,' Summers looked out through a nearby window.
***
In the evening, the ghosts company had already arived and the four were in their rooms. Chester had the sphere again and Boris felt Umoja to be more trustworthy. In the morning, they went to the rector's office. The expression on his face was a serious one, in contrast to his light, merry tone twenty-three hours ago.
'Gentlemen, I have news for you, especially Lieutenant Paskirov. The sphere was shown: to the president of this university, to many leading scientists that could answer our sudden invitation, and so on. They all agreed on the significance of its discovery. Yet...' he pierced Boris with a critical look,' we cannot send an expedition anywhere. I am sorry. We just need to get an idea on what purpose it serves. And, more importantly, we need more data on these Protoss you found out there. I am afraid that opportunity for service for you is postponed indefinitely.'
Summers was devastated. Boris felt as discouraged as if he wsa again in alien captivity. Only Williams maintained his usual impersonal air, in a seeming mockery to his friends' disappointment.
'Not that I want to rush things, your honor, but I expect my army to be looking for me. I mean, me and Lieutenant Summers, and especially Captain Williams and his men. Your world will not be a safe place when the Confederates start looking for the captain, sir,' Boris warned the rector.
'They know that, boy. I also told them about your special forces friend. They - the important people who gathered last night - decided that unless Chester had made any mistake when you were fleeing, there would be no reason for the confederacy to come here.'
'Rector, we ghosts can feel other ghosts' presence. If the Confederacy sends someone like us here, they will know,' Williams abruptly entered the conversation.
Michelson was uneasy.
'My boy, I doubt this can change in any way the decision we all took last night,' he said in a cold tone.
'What if we find out what purpose the orb serves?' Chester mentioned and the others turned their eyes on him.
'I can only wish you luck doing that, young man, for all our sophisticated machinery was powerless. Maybe logic and ingenuity can reveal what sensors cannot, but I, for one, am skeptical about that.'
'I think I know who can help us,' Chester continued.
'You mean... Your old professor?' The rector looked at him in doubt.
'Yes, him. I will visit him as soon as possible and he will surely help.'
'May your confidence be justified, young man.'
'It's worth a try. I will contact him and see what we can do.'
'You have things to explain, kid,' Williams coldly informed the scientist on their way out.

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