Intro 6: Old Grounds

2481 C.E.
BATTLECRUISER “ANDRONIKOS”
UMOJAN EXPEDITIONARY FLEET
PLANET 2481L37ET, OUTSKIRTS OF TERRAN CONFEDERATE SPACE

The Umojan fleet was at its next objective – the planet where the confederate expeditionary fleet Lambda rescued Williams and his men, 2481L37ET. The ships were flying through the clouds at the coordinates that Chester had wisely recorded.
It was not long before the temple's position was revealed. Williams was at the bridge, observing the lands beneath the ship. The sky was engulfed by a cover of white clouds, but beneath it, the terrain was the same. The same wide old plain that stretched across tens of kilometers. The same low ridges in the distance. And the same temple.
Nevertheless, there was something unusual about the temple. There was something unusual with parts of the plain as well. They were darker. Areas of land were just blacker than usual, in slight contrast to the rest of the yellow-ish land. They were of different sizes, some small, others huge, and they were spread randomly throughout the southern part of the plain, where the ancient structure was.
The greater part of the fleet maintained stationary positions near the nicknamed “temple plain” while dropships with scientists and soldiers, along with the science vessel Mercator were sent to the temple to analyze the situation.
None of the old machinery or fortifications that Williams' force had used were there. The whole field was purged of any signs of human presence and the ghosts' base had vanished. There were no bodies of men or Zerg either. Once stepped off the ships and onto the dry ground, the scientists and the marines walked through a plain that was empty. There was even no fauna. Nobody could see birds in the sky, or wild animals, or even insects. The only life were some species of scrawny-looking greenish lumps of grass that hardly stood up against the gushes of wind.
Aboard the Mercator, Chester was observing the data of the measurements that the crews on the ground were taking. The scientists were taking photos and samples from the soil or the air and the data that could be immediately sent to the fleet was seen on screens in the Mercator's main, brightly illuminated hall. Chester was skimming through obvious data about the soil or the air when he stopped at one of the photos. One of the crews was standing at the edge of a dark area of the plain and their photos were showing on the screens.
'Now that's peculiar, eh?' an Umojan next to Chester asked him.
'It bothers me how dark it is. I hope it's not organic. Don't want to get some nasty disease and have to wait 48 hours until the biolabs make the vaccines,” he replied. “Here's the close-up. Wow, look at how ashen the black layer is. There's normal soil underneath...”
Down at the site, the four scientists were also feeling curious.
'Check it out, Morris, the ash is as fine as icing sugar on my grandma's cakes,' one of them murmured while sifting some of the substance between his fingers.
'I bet your grandma's sweets didn't sparkle like this. Let me see,' Morris leaned closer at the ash in his friend's palm. 'Hmmm, it's like it has miniature grains or pieces of crystal. See?'
'You boys put some of that in the sample tube, we'll check it aboard later,' the supervising scientist commanded.
A few hours later, everything that deserved reasonable attention was recorded and, with the assistance of infantrymen, the temple was examined, extensively photographed, and mapped. As the results were arriving, Chester was arguing with Dr. Joares.
'Doctor Joares, I do think there is a need to try this out.'
'Doctor, I do not think that it is necessary for us to waste fuel for stupid ideas like this. We already have our mission, we have to stick to it. So, if you be so kind...'
'But this is important!'
'I'm sure it is, but there's time for everything. And priority as well. I will not authorize you going out there with the artifact.'
'Doctor, do you understand that we must take our chances? This is research!'
'Sounds more like madness to me, boy. How stupid do I have to be to allow you to fly hundreds of kilometers away with the precious artifact just to see if it behaves 'in any less usual way',' the last words Joares pronounced with mocking contempt. 'It is unjustified.'
'Sir, this is scientific, please! It will only take several hours.'
'No. Get back to your cabinet, doctor.'
Chester turned around and left the main hall in frustration. An interesting idea had occurred to him, but the commander of the vehicle was not enthusiastic and Chester was to find another way. He walked into his room, closed the door and sat in front of the board computer at one of the walls. For several minutes he stood there, gazing upon it in deep contemplation. Then, he took his portable computer and began unplugging the network cabling from the big one. When he connected his own machine to the network, he took a deep breath and entered the Enteos network, looking for Paskirov.
Not far away, at the location of the main fleet, was the Mammoth-class carrier Enteos. On board, walking through the corridors with some paperwork, was Paskirov. As he approached one of the cafeterias, his personal messenger rang and he stopped. Wondering what Richardson might want of him now, Boris set the documents aside and looked at the message. It said 'Go to your computer ASAP. About the sphere. C.'
Seeing this surprising message from Chester, he headed straight for his cabin. Boris knew that the Umojan didn't make surprises of this kind unless the situation demanded it. So, after the sliding door behind him closed and he turned on his computer, he prepared to see what was bothering Chester.
On the communication, the scientist was waiting.
'Boris, there is something you must know.'
'Go ahead,' the colonel typed.
'I have an idea about the sphere. I want to see how it reacts to the temple, and especially to distance from it.'
'How exactly?'
'By taking measurements and making observations when the artifact is at various distances from the structure. From a hundred to several thousand kilometers.'
Paskirov watched the letters of the last message on the screen with a mixture of doubt, curiosity and pity.
'Do you realize that the fleet, with all its digital apparatuses will have to be at least a kilometer away from you in order to provide sufficient electronic silence?'
'Yes. But there could be soldiers with us. And besides, you will be around.'
'I am beginning to see why they said no, bud. The risk is,' Paskirov hesitated before continuing typing, 'unjustified.'
'Only once, Boris, only this time. You know that that's all I need to check.' The response from the other side immediately jumped back.
'Why are you telling me?'
'I thought you could pull some strings, et cetera. The admiral is impressed by you. And, besides – you understand me most of the time.'
'Alright, I will. But do not forget that this is against my principles. I would rather not do something like that again.'
The communication was dropped.
***
The next day Chester patiently waited and by noon, he was called to the admiral. McNorman informed him that the analysis of the sphere was to proceed.
The fleet headed to the first point, a hundred kilometers from the location of the temple. It was a mountainous region of dusty brown slopes and snowy peaks that spanned for many kilometers in all directions. The summits of the different massifs stood upright against the winds and the sky in their sandy, inhospitable majesty.
As the fleet approached, the giant ships began to diverge and head in different directions. A single dropships separated itself from the group and flew forwards. In it, there was Chester, along with some scientists and guards. The dropship also carried boxes of measuring equipment, in addition to a special safe where the artifact was constantly kept in. Chester observed the landscape through one of the windows as the dropship was looking for a suitable flat surface for landing.
Soon, the special dropship gently touched the brown ground and the pilot began turning off its systems. The door of the cargo compartment opened, the marines ran out, securing the perimeter and the scientists followed, carrying the bulky apparatuses in steel boxes. Last was Chester with the artifact's container. As planned, he walked away from the ship and when he was fifty meters away from it and the personnel, he dialed the combination of the safe. The door of the box opened and he handled the sphere out of it. He raised it in the air and in the distance the marines turned off their combat suits and scientists began taking measurements.
The artifact seemed as good as normal, without any disturbances in its shadowy interior. The orrery of little sparks moved on ever steady, as if they were hanging on invisible strings. There was nothing.
Chester felt a bit discouraged. Kilometers away in the distance, the ships were completing the circle around the dropship's position and their tiny black silhouettes against the cloudy sky slowly stopped moving. When the scientists made the sign that they were ready, he confirmed and put the sphere back in its place. The safety ring of marines slowly narrowed down as he returned to the ship and soon they were flying back to the gathering fleet.
Alright, alright, we are yet to see how it does at greater distances, he thought to himself. The dropship refueled and prepared for the next stop in the same direction. It was a hilly grassland of dry, low vegetation. Again, he walked out in the distance and held the sphere. Again, little had changed. Chester felt hope fleeting on his way back to the ships.
The fleet continued for the five and the ten hundred kilometer points. This was taking hours now and the already low support aboard the Andronikos was diminishing. The officers wondered at how determined the command was to allow such risks for such a long time. Paskirov had the unpleasant feeling that he had bet some of his reputation on a losing hand. Only MacMylor could find some benefit about all this, as it provided an opportunity for the crews of the vessels to train their coordination.
At neither three hundred, nor four hundred, nor five hundred kilometers did the readings on the sphere change substantially. To the disappointment of Chester, the artifact retained all its previous properties and looks. Dusk was setting in and despite the western orientation of the course, which allowed the fleet to benefit from a bit more sunlight, Chester's results were useless.
Late that evening, he was in the bridge of the Andronikos, ready to return the sphere. There were McNorman, Williams, Carla and some officers.
'Doctor, we are disappointed with the results of your research. We want you to give back the artifact so that we can store it where it's safe,' the admiral calmly informed him.
'Sir... Yes, sir. Here it is,' Chester replied and handed it to one of the officers with a gloomy expression.
'We hope there will be more professional diligence of your part in the future,' the admiral said.
Chester didn't answer. He turned and left to the cafeteria. He began drinking whatever it was he got from the vending machine, ignoring even its taste. As he was consumed by thoughts about the previous events, Williams approached.
'Yes?' Chester said mutely.
'I decided that telling you that you are not responsible for the failure today would improve your condition,' the ghost responded.
'Sure, whatever,' the Umojan murmured. 'Maybe I'm thinking about the sphere too much. Well, good thing that the Protoss haven't arrived. Would you look at the ground there...'
'It's black, what does that mean?'
'It is scorched. The black thing is ash, we saw the samples. There's even pieces of glass. Something really powerful has annihilated those areas. Hell, it was powerful enough to melt some of the sand.'
'Protoss?' the ghost asked.
'My best guess, too, Mike. These guys out there have the potential to turn us to a piece of scrap. You know, there were remains of iron in the ash. And of steel.'
The ghost kept looking at the Umojan, waiting for him to continue. In the meantime, Konrad entered and saw them. Chester greeted him and the Korhalian approached
'My speciality is not forensic science, but I guess that these are traces of your old machinery. Molten in the ground. Here's a cheerful thought... Say, how did it happen that you find the sphere in that temple?'
'Is he safe?' Williams suspiciously asked, while looking at Konrad who was quietly observing. 'I just saw it on the round behind one of the turns. My flashlight immediately illuminated it.'
'How did it look like when it was in the temple?' Chester quickly asked.
'Pretty normal, I'd have to say. But I wasn't looking too much at it. Too busy going back the quickest possible way.'
'We haven't brought it inside the temple.'
'No, we haven't.'
'What if we do?' Chester looked at the ghost with piercing eyes.
'I do not know, why are you asking me?'
'We should try that. We have to. In 48 hours, we will have left this planet.'
'I do not know how this will happen, either,' the ghost said. 'I'm off to my room.'
'Wait, can I have the sphere?' Chester interrupted him. He frowned.
'Why would you need that?'
'I have an idea, I need to examine it in my room. I'll give it back to you when I'm done, I promise.'
The ghost was looking at him with suspicion.
'I promise!'
'Very well. But do not lose track of it at any cost. Or else.'
'On my word,' the Umojan replied, watching Williams leave to fetch it.
'Having trouble with research?' Konrad inquired.
'Yes. Just trying out things... And the militaries aren't too enthusiastic.'
'The tests on the sphere?'
'Yes. I am convinced that we have to do it all by night as well. But guess how big the chances are that McNorman agrees. It's like I'm in the damned Confederacy all over again!' Chester began to display anger.
'Really? Would they allow you to take them hundreds of kilometers away just to prove some vague guess of yours?' Konrad asked with the predatory tone of a Confederate commissar.
'Erm, no, surely...'
'Then I hope you realize the foolishness of complaining from the status quo.'
'Ehm, yes. Right. By the way, I intend to find a way to make this night tour happen.'
'Bold words. Good luck making it happen. What do you intend to do, if I may ask?'
'I'll try calling Boris again.'
***
'What?!' the colonel's message appeared on Chester's screen for him and the Korhalian to see.
'Yes, just one dropship. Williams has access and has agreed,' the scientist typed in response. 'I have the sphere just here. All I need is a dropship.'
'No, I cannot. This is jeopardizing our security and our loyalty,' the answer came.
'Just one ship, Boris. I promise I'll give it back to you when I'm done.'
'You are out of your mind, bud. A definitive no. Heads will roll if the slightest thing goes wrong, plus, I really need to start being loyal. No, I will not give you a single escape pod if you are doing this to the sphere,' the words appeared.
'But you know that I cannot make the command repeat all that at night! We must try it! Maybe this will work!!!' Chester kept insisting.
'Requesting ten minutes to decide.'
'I doubt he will allow you to have a vessel with which to go even one, let alone a hundred kilometers away from us with this thing,' Konrad noted.
'Thanks for telling me the obvious,' Chester murmured.
The Umojan shrugged and they waited. They looked around in waiting. In ten minutes, according to the reading on the screen clock, Boris' reply came.
'No. I am not assisting you in something that runs against the order of this fleet.'
'Think about progress,' the Umojan typed in with hope.
'No.' And the other side closed the network.
'What are you going to do now?' Konrad asked.
'I'll do it all myself.'
'I would like to see that happen.'
'You are invited,' Chester said and waved at the Korhalian to leave. 'If you want to be a part of the lab, meet me at docking bay 4 four hours from now.'
'As you wish,' the tall scientist replied and headed to the door. 'I will see you there.'
He left and Chester stood alone in the room on his chair. He turned to the board computer and sighed.
'God help me... Bah, what am I saying?' he murmured and leaned to grab his portable computer.
***
Four hours later, he exited the corridor in the hammerhead of the Andronikos and entered the wide fourth docking bay, pulling some machinery, as well as the safe for the sphere on a hand cart. Everybody aboard was asleep except for the few people on duty, but they posed no problem. Konrad was also there, standing in the corridor just outside the hall.
The docking bay was the home of the smaller ships that served the battlecruiser. Here, vessels like dropships or modern Wraith-class fighters landed and were moved to the hangar beneath the floor. Also, repairs often took place here, so there were usually spare parts or engineering machinery at the corners or by the walls. The docking bay of the Andronikos was not opened or closed by metal doors, but had a force field instead. The force field both allowed for small ships to enter, and kept all the air in the bay, not allowing it to escape in space. Now, there was a single dropship at the bay, fueled up and ready to go.
Seeing it, Chester stopped and Konrad stopped behind him. The Umojan felt paralyzed by fear. What he was doing was clear treason. He began to realize the extent of the trouble this could lead him to. Unpleasant thoughts took control over his mind and he saw himself being demoted, fired, left alone on this planet or even executed. This plan could cost his career at the fleet, as well as his reputation at Umoja. What about Konrad? The Korhalian was already accustomed to punishment, or at least incarceration. Furthermore, he could always place the blame on him, because it was Chester who organized all this and Chester bore the responsibility.
'Are you OK?' Konrad asked.
'Yes, yes, I'm fine.' the Umojan replied and braced up as much as he could. If he quitted now, he could just go back to his room with everything, delete the records for this custom flight and nobody except Konrad would know it ever happened. But he could not. He was certain that back in his cabin, curiosity and eagerness to prove his point would torture his mind for a long time. Never before in his life had Chester avoided a reasonable opportunity to make simple observations, and the thought of doing so added more to the cocktail of anxiety in his chest. He had to go aboard that dropship, just go. Then fly to the temple the fastest possible way, see how the sphere behaves, and get back before anybody had noticed. He focused on these thoughts, trying to ignore his feelings, and walked forwards to the dropship.
He went inside and informed the pilot they were here.
'Doctor Chester Fitzpatrick and Doctor Konrad Thornton, authorized for flight AN01-14.'
'Welcome aboard,' the pilot said and started warming up the ship. 'Where to?'
'We need to move close to the ruins on the field, preferably right next to them. Can you do that?' Chester said almost in trance.
'Sure. Buckle up.'
The dropship levitated a few meters above the ground as it turned towards the force field and the pilot forced its engines. It flew out of the docking bay and into the night towards the location of the Protoss ruins. In the cargo hold, Chester had grabbed the handles of the hand cart. He was again afraid of the consequences. Konrad, at the other side of the compartment, looked as self-controlled as a ghost, although his body language betrayed some signs of nervousness. The Umojan realized – there was no way back. Returning now was too dangerous, as it could give the pilot doubts. The easiest way out of this mess he was into was through victory.
The dropship left the fleet behind and landed thirty meters from the temple walls. It opened the door and prepared to lift off and wait for the two several hundred meters away. As Chester left the vessel, he got a live close look at the front of the temple. Its inclined front side had a long stairway that led towards an entrance twenty meters above. The width of the structure was a hundred and fifty to two hundred meters, and that was about as much as its length. It was no more than fifty meters tall and it was built entirely out of stone. From a distance it looked like a greyish stony pyramid, but as one got closer, the different terraces and colonnades were distinct.
The two walked in, holding the hand cart together. Upon reaching the darkness of the entrance, Konrad turned on his flashlight and pierced the blackness inside. Chester also turned on his and observed.
There was nothing in the corridor except columns on both sides. The stones were amazingly old, older than anything Chester had ever seen before. On many places on the inside, just as on the outside, the grey stones were covered with unknown lichens.
'Where do we take the measurements?' Konrad asked.
'The machinery needs to be at least fifty meters away from the artifact,' Chester replied. 'But more importantly, it should be inside.'
'Surely, taking the measurements right next to the structure will yield the same results.' Konrad mentioned.
'Are you afraid of the dark?'
'No. Fear is irrational.'
'Then let's find a nice spot inside and get it all done. Our researchers already went through all this, Konrad, it's safe on the inside.' He was starting to like the danger.
'I told you, I am not afraid.' Konrad clarified.
You told me it's irrational, really, Chester thought to himself. They walked through the corridor and at the end the way diverged into a T-shape.
'Left,' he said.
'Are you sure that it is the best decision?' the Korhalian inquired.
'There is a fifty-fifty chance of choosing the wrong way, whatever “wrong” means in this context, Konrad, relax.'
The two walked around halls and corridors before they found a suitable spot. The temple had a simple interior, as they came to realize. It had four huge halls forming a square-looking rectangle in the middle and around them went four corridors. All the halls and the corridors were devoid of any objects whatsoever. The suitable spot was inside one of the empty halls, from there there was a clear line of fire throughout the length of the corridor. Chester went inside and told the Korhalian to work with all the apparatuses at the end of the corridor.
'Why does it have to be me?' he asked.
'Because I'll be responsible for what happens here, Konrad, and I am deciding on things. But if you want, you can have the fleet's sphere, here,' Chester replied but his friend did not take it and went to proceed with the operations.
As he was moving away, Chester opened the safe and kicked it away. The sphere was rather bright now, as it threw some light on Chester's hands and even on the walls.
'Are you ready?' he shouted across the hallway.
'Almost,' Konrad replied.
When he was done, he worked through all the tools and signaled the Umojan to go back. When Chester got to him, he pointed at a section of the wall.
'Look here, can you spot anything unusual?' he asked.
'It all looks the same rotten old rock to me, frankly,' Chester said, shining on it with his flashlight.
'Look at these two stones,' Konrad pointed at two displaced ones and pressed them.
They were too tough. He pushed some more and Chester came to help in a seemingly meaningless endeavor and suddenly, the stones gave way and sank into the wall. A few meters away from them, a section of the wall began shaking and, with a noisy rumble, it started sliding down into the floor.
'What the hell...' the Umojan could not believe.
'How fortunate.' Konrad remarked.
They entered the room, looking at its interior. There were no columns, but on the walls, beneath the lichens, Chester could distinguish runes.
'Look at this...' he uttered, removing some of the lichens to get a better look.
'We need to record all this. You clean them up. I will photograph them,' Konrad said.
'Why should I remove lichens?' his friend asked.
'Because I do the operating. By your order,' the Korhalian replied.
Both were astounded at their find. After Konrad finished taking pictures, they could not wait to show the results to the rest of the expeditionary force's science team. The two headed to the exit of the temple, Konrad holding the safe with the sphere and Chester pushing the hand cart. In the main corridor, something was wrong. Lights were shining from outside into the temple.
'This must be people from the fleet,' the Korhalian noted.
Chester was annoyed. Other people were not a part of the plan. He was getting nervous at the presence of whoever was there.
They walked out, blinded by the strong lights aimed at them. Chester was losing optimism, but what he heard on a loudspeaker drained away what was left in his reservoir.
'Walk out with your hands in the air, I repeat – leave your items on the ground and walk down the stairway with your hands in the air. Do not try to run – there is no escape and you are targets of snipers.'
'It seems that something in your plan didn't work quite well,' the tall Korhalian murmured.
'Would you stop telling me the obvious, Konrad?' Chester exclaimed in frustration as he kept walking down, unable to see anything beyond the strong lights in front of him. When he got down, he felt somebody pushing him down to the ground and putting handcuffs on his hands. A needle stung his shoulder and he immediately fell to sleep.
***
Chester woke up in a cell. He did not know where he was at first, but the figures on the other side of the prison bars were familiar. He blinked several times and when his vision cleared, the sight of McNorman and some officers scared him.
'Doctor Fitzpatrick, what the hell do you think you were doing?' the admiral asked angrily.
'I was... Erm... I was wanting to analyze the artifact more thoroughly, so what I did was basically...'
'Deceiving everybody? Well, congratulations. You almost succeeded. However, your plan had a few flaws. For instance, the ship's sensors got your reading. Also, we would, sooner or later, find about the missing fuel for the mission, even if you deleted it from the records. Next time try not to be so smart, Doctor.'
Williams was looking at the Umojan with cold contempt and annoyance. The other officers were angry and scornful.
'Doctor, your breach of security is no less unforgivable. You manipulated our data and deliberately falsified it in order to achieve a goal not approved by anybody in the authority to allow this. Doctor, do you realize where you are!'
The Umojan stood there, waiting for something terrible to happen.
'You are in an armed force!' McNorman raised his voice. 'I do not know how easy it was for you in the Confederacy with such behavior, but here we will not tolerate any of this. Or, if perhaps the Confederacy was too strict, you may have thought we are more liberal? Well, here's some news. You are with us now and we do not like our rules broken. For that, you will be punished! You are now forbidden to leave your science vessel unless I specifically authorize to do so, or in cases of emergency. Also, expect Doctor Joares to demote you. Most importantly, we are confiscating your personal computer.'
'No!' Chester exclaimed.
'Yes, we are. It is too dangerous. We will keep hold of your personal computer for the rest of the expedition. You will not be allowed to use any unauthorized computer equipment, nor anybody else's. If you try to break any of these regulations, you will be incarcerated! Understood?'
'Sir, yes, sir!' Chester replied, feeling easier.
'At ease. And, one last word,' McNorman leaned towards him. 'The only reason we are so lenient is because we think you can be useful. Trust me kid, anybody without a Ph.D. from our unversity would never be treated so leniently. Bear that in mind.'
The admiral waved at the guard and the man opened the door of the scienist's cell.
On his way back, Chester struggled to think through everything he had heard. He did not feel the floor of the corridor, or the stairs he walked on. He could only see the bright veil that the lightness of relief from fear had thrown upon his eyes and that made everything around him more enjoyable. When he finally got to the dropship that would take him to Mercator, after losing his way a couple of times, he could only think about how fortunate he was.
The dropship flew out of the docking bay, past the long neck of the battlecruser and towards the science vessel in the distance. The dropship attached itself to the loading bay of the Mercator, which took in its rear half, and opened the doors for Chester to walk in. There were some nods of approval among the personnel aboard the science ship, but the prevailing attitude was one of suppressed anathematizing towards the poor soul forcefully deprived of his portable computer.
At his cabin, Chester tried to contact Boris. The computer was completely ordinary and even had all advanced features disabled. The user was limited to the most basic of operations in an obvious effort to keep the user out of trouble. It was a painful loss of freedom, capability, and potential that Chester had to cope with. He even had to wait until Paskirov was at his cabin in order to contact him. When they finally managed to talk, Boris was furious.
'Way a go last night, Chess, after what you did, this whole fleet is different. Nobody likes you. You successfully turned most of the men here against you.'
'In fact, I may need to remind you that your act was extremely stupid,' Paskirov continued. 'Can you not realize that you are in an armed unit and that a certain degree of discipline is required from you as a part of it?'
'I do, and I am sorry. I will not do anything like this ever again, you have my word,' the Umojan typed in some remorseful words for the vexed colonel. 'Everything will be fine.'
'We need a bloody military police after what you did, Chess! I personally hoped that this fleet would go on without one, but what do you know, a wise guy like YOU decides to defy us and do what he wants. Sorry, but I am doing something about this. The next time you decide to do something stupid, you better be prepared for the consequences,' Paskirov was angry.
'Sorry, Boris.'
'Do not be sorry, it will not change anything. But do not worry, either. We were lucky that it was you and not some real traitor who took the sphere from us. By the way, now only McNorman and the vice-admiral have access to it.'
'How is Williams?' Chester asked.
'He got almost no blame for the accident – due to the consequences and to his discipline. He is displeased with you, though. For as shallow as his emotions can be, they now tend to turn vitriolic when you are mentioned.'
'I will convince McNorman we need to do some drills with the infantry on this planet. It will give you one or two more days if he agrees. Which I will make sure. But persuading him is your job. Anything else?'
'Thank you, my friend!' Chester replied happily. 'I am much obliged.'
'Here's some party favor for you: stay in line,' Paskirov responded and closed the line.
***
On the next day, after doing some petty chores, the sorry Chester was summoned to Andronikos by the admiral. He took the ride to the ship and was led by an officer into the empty meeting hall. A minute later, McNorman, accompanied by the vice-admiral, Arnold, and a scientist in the characteristic synthetic outdoors suit. McNorman sat and began.
'Doctor, we called you here to tell us about your speculations, and maybe how they relates to your decision to sneak into the temple. Be detailed.'
Chester explained his idea that in night, the absence of daylight could possibly show other traits of the sphere. McNorman listened and looked at Arnold next to him, thinking. He whispered something in the ear of the scientist and the latter nodded. The admiral then returned to the dialogue.
'I see, Doctor, why you insist on repeating the observations at night. I think it could be possible, because we need to do some drilling in the infantry battalion anyway. So, my answer, despite your display of shocking disobedience, would be yes. I will authorize these tests you wish to make. Under one condition.'
'Sir, what is it, sir?'
'We are doing this in four measurements, not more. The ships cannot allow to be far from the battalion for long periods of time, especially considering the fact that we are in an unexplored planet. We will leave at 1500 fleet time, which is about when the sunset takes place. Any questions?'
'How far can the intervals be, sir?'
'Bear in mind, that I will not leave the battalion for more than seven hours. Do your math, doctor.'
'What if we travel in the higher atmosphere, where there's less air resistance and we can develop higher speeds?' Chester suggested. The scientist looked at him questioningly.
'Yeam, that sounds reasonable. We could cover great distances like that.'
'Seven thousand kilometers?'
This surprised the admiral.
'Oh, I suppose the ships will be fine with that if moving at a sufficient altitude. So yes.'
'Thank you, sir!'
***
Some time later, the fleet was again moving. This time, they were flying high above the surface, where the air was thin and where they could maintain a high speed. Just like the first long-range missiles at the dawn of aerospace technology, Chester thought. Three hundred kilometers from the temple, Andronikos dove downwards into a huge cloud and away from the light of the setting sun, followed by the rest of the fleet. The dropship flew towards a suitable zone while the other ships' dark silhouettes covered in tiny lights spread over the twilight sky and radially from the dark blue zenith. The old procedure was repeated and the scientists took measurements of the artifact. Then, they did the same thing at one thousand and at four thousand kilometers from the temple. Each time, the sphere appeared a bit different to Chester. As he was holding it in the night air while the scientists observed it in the distance, he could swear that it was growing dimmer. Finally, on the grassy slopes of a hill seven thousand kilometers away from the temple, Chester held the artifact and was certain. Its light was diminishing. He put it back in the safe and walked back to the dropship.
Before the seven hours were up, the fleet had returned to the temple. McNorman verified the status of the battalion and the prepared to hear Chester's results.
'Sir, this time I found something useful about the artifact. We took measurements of its status at various distances and, although the measurements are rough, from a scientists' perspective, it is clear that the artifact has an additional important property,' Chester began. 'Its luminance is inversely proportional to its distance from the temple structure. As you can see here, on these photos, it is darker in the later samples. The data from the light meters confirms it, as you can see the readings here.'
'Well, that's interesting. Would you interpret the results, doctor?' McNorman said.
'Yes, sir. What I can conclude from the drop in luminance of the object in relation to its distance from the temple is that the sphere's glow is connected with the presence of an alien structure or a ghost. This is so, because I have only seen the sphere in the presence of the Major, or of an electromagnetic field of some sort. The taking of those measurements was the first time I saw the artifact so dim, and at the same time, away from either a ghost, or electricity. Furthermore, we can determine our distance from the temple using the sphere,' McNorman began showing interest. 'And something that can measure its luminance that is more reliable than the human eye. In fact, we could make a scale and use it together with the sphere to know where we are. Think about it. If there is something else on the planets we are looking for, the brightness of the artifact could tell us. All we need to do is just fly at several key points on the surface of the planet and record the brightness of the artifact. Once we have, each of these points is the center of a circle. The circle's radius is connected to the brightness of the artifact. Where three of the circles intersect is the location of any such Protoss structure!'
'Good,' the admiral looked at him with approval.
'In fact, we may not even need to consider any constant relationship between luminance and distance. All we need to do is to record the luminosity readings at selected points on the planet's surface, and then the square root of each one is the distance between the vertices and the centroid of the triangle thus formed,' Chester went on, thinking aloud. 'We could then just measure the distance of the sides and triangulate the data of the proportional distances to match the metric measurement...'
'Alright, Doctor, I'll inform the science team of your discovery and will tell them to analyze the technique. Thank you very much. You did very well. But, of course, the punishment is punishment and it cannot be abrogated.'
'Wow, than you, sir. I... I don't know what to say.'
'Give back the artifact and return to your post aboard the Mercator.'
'Yes, sir.' Chester said and walked out.
***
The next morning, Boris woke up and rolled in his bed for about half an hour, thinking about the development in the fleet. He thought of Chester's good work and of the drills and the soldiers, and finally his thoughts moved to his brother. It was about time he talked to his brother about the near past and make happen this necessary dialogue between relatives who were separated.
That day, he summoned his bother to the troops' exercises on the field. Since these drills were Paskirov's effort to give Chester time, he did not consider them vital and did not teach the troops any new things. He instead talked his brother through the basics of employing infantry and armor.
'This is the tank company. It's made of smaller divisions, called tank platoons. This tank platoon is in an echelon right formation, which maximizes their firepower to the right...' and so on.
At lunch break, Boris ended the lesson and inquired into the more important subject.
'So, tell me about what happened while you were on the vacation there,' Paskirov told his brother.
'I wondered when you'd ask, Boris. Let's see. The day I got lost in the jungle was a normal one by all standards. You know, we woke up, and had something for breakfast at the house, and we got on the boat. Uncle was navigating and we all took through the river. It was all fine until noon, the view was awesome, there was sun, and we could see some of the animals in the water. At one point, we decided to stop and have lunch ashore. So, we did, we got off the boat and onto a sandy stretch of land. And then, the lunch was interrupted by the militias. I was having a walk right at that moment, in the nearby woods, when I heard the sounds of aircraft engines and rifle fire. I got terrified, for the family, so I ran back. However, I could not get to our camp, because of the bandits. They saw me as they were in the air, in their transport aircraft, and started firing at me and I had to look for cover farther backwards in the woods. It was several awful minutes of, how do you call it? Suppressive fire,' Sebastian smiled. 'When they left me alone, I made it to the river, but I got a bit lost and I couldn't find the camp location for an hour or so. When I did, uncle had already left. Thankfully, there were no signs of blood, so they had all made it safely away. Nevertheless, I was concerned whether or not the armed militias of the jungle, those guys make a living off the peasants, whether they were after the boat. After all, the boat can only move in the water, and they could fly, and you don't need to know military theory to know that that's disadvantageous a position.
'They made it, if that's what you want to know,' Paskirov said.
'Phew, yes. Good.'
'Keep going.'
'So, I wandered for several hours after that, in the approximate direction of the house. I did what I could with leaves to keep dry when the noon rain was pouring down, and I went on. Unfortunately, I was too far away. I was sure I was in the right direction, of course, because I was moving along the river. However, it was just too far away. Basically, night was falling and it was getting bad. I headed back to the camp to see if there was any food left in the junk that was left behind. There was, so I lived on that for the next several days. That night, I made my own fire and even made me a hammock to sleep on. I also made another one for the items. My plan was to really make a long walk the next day and return home so that uncle and mom and Joanne would not worry about me. The next day, I woke up and took anything I might need in the jungle and proceeded back. I was hearing worrying noise while on my way through the jungle, Boris. It was like a war was taking place. In the distance, there was shooting and explosions and even screams I think. It sure made me nervous. I think this is why at one point, I got lost. I just realized that the river, which was supposed to be fifty meters to my right was not there. There was just more jungle. I tried to correct the course, and I went on some of the hilltops to try to see anything in the distance. I could only see smoke, man, It was creepy. I just hoped that they were all fine. I decided to walk towards the smoke then. I walked and walked, and I got really tired. Night was falling again, so I lit a fire and went to sleep. The next day I kept walking on and on. At one point, I saw a wrecked air transport that had crashed down in the jungle. Or at least its scorched remains. Although, I could see that it was not anything that the government used. I moved on and there were some more downed ships. Unfortunately, some where police ones, indeed. I thought that this is getting too dangerous and that I must be approaching a militarized zone. So, I thought, the rest of the family ought to have left for safety if the could up to now, there were no reasons for them to hang around on this part of the planet any longer and they should have decided to leave my rescue to the governor. I decided to stop wandering around and lit fires, as many as I could, for the rest of the day. I was hoping that the officials would see me and take me out. They didn't, so the next day, I kept doing it. It was fruitless. My hope was to now expect the government to find me. Surely, my relatives would have informed the services.'
'They had. What did you see?'
'Well, there was nothing in the sky. At least nowhere where I was. Neither friend, nor foe. What does that mean?'
'It means that the stupid Confederates didn't want to risk flying over rebel-occupied territory, that's what it means. The events you saw were a rebellion, Sebastian,' Paskirov said angrily.
'Wow, this is why there was fighting.'
'Yes, and in the three days you were in the jungle, the rebels had seized large territories, including the stretch of jungle you were into. They had been pushing the government forces back to the big cities and you were located behind the enemy lines. And the government did not want to bother with a lost guy out there, even if he was of our family! Disgusting!' Boris was furious.
'Why, what did they tell you?'
'They told us that there was nothing out there and that they had given up looking for you after four days!'
'They never did search, those damned wretches!' Sebastian groaned.
'Obviously, the interests of the many outnumbered the needs of the few,' the Colonel cynically remarked.
'So, I was left to die...' his brother looked down.
'It would seem. We thought you were dead, in fact. We had a small funeral back home, even the mayor was there.'
'For me? Wow.'
'Rather, for the sake of good relationships with the rest of the family, but yes, if it makes you feel better, he was there for you,' Paskirov remarked. 'What happened next?'
'Next... For three or four days I was left alone in the damned jungle with my only entertainment being to light huge fires and look for food. I sustained myself with some fish and optimism before I was finally rescued. Man, I was glad. It was afternoon and I was thinking how miserable I am and how I might as well just quit all this and throw myself off some cliff in order to ease my passing. And then, I heard something in the air. It was a dropship. I was, at first, really glad because I was finally being saved. After the most wretched week of my life, I was finally going to leave this place. However, I was also a bit worried. The dropship was not governmental. It had some other markings. I realized, that the Confederates must have lost, at least for now, and that these guys up in the air were another bunch of thugs. I could, possibly, wait for the Confederacy to send the army, as it usually happens with uprisings like this, but that meant that I would have to hang around in the damned jungle for several more weeks. So, I decided to go with these guys and, at the first opportunity, to make a run for it towards the Confederacy. I dumped my shirt so that they didn't see I was of a wealthy family, and I went over to meet them. They were, indeed, guerillas of sorts, rugged and rude, inadequately equipped. I presented myself as a petty trader who had flown over the jungle when the fighting broke out and who then lost himself and they fell for it. They took me to their headquarters in an unknown place – my eyes were bound – and accepted me as one of their own. They were the New Trinidat pirates, I learned, and they were here to aid the rebellion against the Confederacy. They made me a gun operator at one of their battlecruisers – yes, they had those, and I spent the next several days with them on the planet. To be honest, they did little helping the rebellion as opposed to pillaging anything they could get their hands on. Mostly we just flew around through the deserted cities and looted them. Hell, I might as well say that our side in this rebellion was with the Confederates, since I saw many instances of threats and even attacks on rebels who had any riches. Pirates they were, alright.
'Interesting, tell me about their forces,' Boris inquired.
'As far as I could see, we had two battlecruisers, and some transport ships and some more warships. We... They – didn't have infantry like you, however. The men on the ground had to make up for armor with enthusiasm. No tanks, either. I think we did have some wraiths. But really, the ships, maybe except the biggest ones, like the battlecruisers, were not maintained well. I saw many small civilian cargo ships used for transport and provided with miserable improvised armor. Erm... The officers, if I can call them that, weren't any more civilized than the ordinary troops. Sure, they had more discipline at times, but not always. It's a wonder that the New Trinidad ever managed to do what I later saw it doing.'
'What happened later?'
'Ah, so, we did our share of looting and we left the planet. And we went to the headquarters. It was on New Trinidad. There was the main base. I got to participate in some raids and robberies of ships. We attacked anything that could have useful cargo. We didn't attack government – Confederate – shipping, though. Neither did we take civilians as hostages. I got promoted a couple of ranks and I learned more about the New Trinidad. In short, it was about the money. We didn't look for trouble with anything too dangerous, like the Confederacy. This is why we didn't touch their ships or property. It is also why we didn't mess with civilians. Bad for the reputation, and it could make the government take measures against us. Also, there's no telling if any of the civilians was a Confederate official. Because if he or she were, then we'd be in a lot of trouble.'
'Why didn't you tell them that you were Sebastian Paskirov?' Boris asked.
'Well, I would be taken as a hostage, yes. And then the time would come for the money to be paid. And my life would be in a serious danger if the pirates or the Confeds botched something and the deal was jeopardized. Either the Trinidad boys would maybe decline to return me, or the Confeds might try to send special ops and fail, and either way, my chances of survival would become smaller. So no. I thought of defecting,' Sebastian said.
'And how did you end up in this prison?' Boris smiled.
His brother frowned.
'We were making a raid that day. But we broke our rules. I suggested it. There was a Confederate transport passing by our positions, in normal space. It carried refined neodymium, you know how expensive this is. We thought we just force it to a nearby planet and assault it and then kill everyone onboard and blow the ship up in order not to leave any evidence. I suggested it because both outcomes seemed good. We could either take it and get lots of money and I would get promoted, or we could not take for some reason, like for example a strong Confederate force somewhere nearby if this was all a trap. We proceeded to it and its guard, and took it to the surface. Then, we were surprised by them. It sure was a trap. There was no cargo there, only soldiers. Marines, Boris, heavily armed. We started fighting and I thought that now was the time to surrender. So, I messed up our lines and sneaked to their ships in order to surrender and inform them of my true identity. And... They didn't believe me.'
'Let me guess, you didn't anticipate that?' Boris looked at his brother with regret.
'Erm, well, yea. Put it this way... They arrested me. I told them that they could check, but they didn't bother. Possibly they did, and then they found me to be dead and saw that I really must be a treacherous pirate. And an incompetent and stupid one as well, for the way I deliberately disordered my men into their defeat. And so, I ended up in this prison a year and something ago.' he finished.
'Well, Sebastian, you did what you could. You will learn in time. In a real army. I'll find you a place here, something might rub off onto you if you stay with us.'
'Wow, thanks. I owe you, Boris.'
'Never mind, that's why you are my brother.'
***
The next day, when Boris was done instructing Sebastian into lessons of war, the tired troops and all the equipment was loaded onto the ships and the fleet made the warp jump towards the next system.