Destiny's Dawn Chapter 3 - Diplomacy (complete)

[Graf_Grau]

Hi to all. Sorry for the delay in this next chapter, I have been incredibly busy with other things.

Its also only part one as there is a bit more to add to this chapter so I beg of your forbearance.

I will be in a comms blackout for the next few days so hope to add the rest next week.

Regards

GG

EDIT - part two added to complete the chapter below the +++

Prologue
http://www.egosoft.com/x2/forum/viewtopic.php?t=74847
Chapter 1
http://www.egosoft.com/x2/forum/viewtopic.php?t=74982
Chapter 2
http://www.egosoft.com/x2/forum/viewtopic.php?t=75228

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Destiny's Dawn

Chapter Three – Diplomacy

As the cold grey of dawn began to creep across the valley enclosing the Njy family palace, deep within the sewage system, Kreltana’s mission began to reach fruition. His escape route was now prepared. Having hidden the corpses of his victims in a more secure location he was carefully replacing the bars in their positions, he used a weak adhesive to keep them in place, in the darkness of the sewer it would be impossible to see that they had ever been removed.

Kreltana new that the best time to strike would be at night, there would be fewer guards to protect his target and the shadows longer and more frequent. As the morning drew on, he picked his way back to the servant quarters, avoiding the main passageways and guard patrols. On entering the servant quarters he looked for a place to clean himself and acquire new clothes, the stench of the sewers permeated right through him. There would be no stealthy movement that night if he reeked of dung and rotting waste, fortunately there were a number of showers. Having cleaned himself he sneaked into the laundry and stole a new robe of the same dull colours of the dead servant.

As Kreltana was pulling on his new robe he heard a commotion outside the room. He sped up his dressing and carefully arrayed his throwing knives within the voluminous sleeves. He approached the door and began to shuffle his feet, as was the common behaviour of servants and slaves. Outside the chamber a crowd of servants were rushing to and fro in a frantic flurry of activity, he grabbed one by the arm and asked. “What’s going on, why the hurry?”

“Have you been sleeping, Lord Njy has declared a feast for this evening. We have only the day to prepare for it.” The servant replied in an agitated tone. “Let me go I must help prepare the great hall now or I will be flogged.”

As the servant rushed off, Kreltana gave a silent curse, a feast would mean hours of merrymaking and therefore a great deal of time before he could strike. On the other hand it occurred to him that most of the residents of the palace would be intoxicated by the time they finally went to bed and far less careful and alert. With any luck he could be several stazuras away before any alarm was sounded. Using the bustle of activity as cover he hatched a plan, which would leave him expertly placed to strike when the time was ripe. Unobtrusively he made his way to the noble’s quarter, heading for the bedchambers of the family, skilfully avoiding the guards along the way.

+++
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“Entering system, Danna’s Chance.” Piped the female voice of Dentill’s flight computer. Dentill immediately set his throttle to full power, and broke away from the ecliptic plane. The first few sezuras after jumping into the unclaimed sectors were always the most dangerous, there was no sense in tempting fate. Glancing only microseconds later at his Gravidar, he saw there were no hostiles in the near vicinity of the gate.

Settling into a short patrol pattern across the gate Dentill waited for the rest of the convoy to jump through. As if on cue, the gate flashed four times spewing forth the remaining three Nova fighters of his wing followed by a heavily shielded personnel transport. He gazed at the lines and curves of the ship’s hull. The Argon Express might not be the best looking of the new TP class transports but since Argon Spaceways had bought rights to the designs it was certainly the most comfortable commercial way to travel throughout the known universe.

“Sundance Three and Four form up close to the transport,” Dentill ordered through his comm. unit. “Try not to stray to stray too far from it and do not engage enemy targets unless there is a clear threat to yourselves or the transport.” He paused whilst the two pilots gave grudging acknowledgement to the orders. He smiled, there wasn’t a combat pilot in existence who happily gave up the chance to boost their kill scores. Switching his frequency to the last fighter, “Sundance Two, form on my wing we’ll make sure the way is kept clear.”

“Aye-aye Sir” Replied Paul Razevski in Sundance Two.

“Ok all ships set speed to one-three-five mps and head for the North gate, keep on your toes people were are deep in pirate territory now.” Dentill warned his small squadron. He then decided to call Shacklock via the comm.

“Hello Commander Dentill, it seems the trip is going well.” Said Shacklock in measured tones, “We seem to be making excellent time.”

“Yes we are,” Replied Dentill, “However it concerns me slightly that things are going so smoothly, we haven’t seen the slightest amount of pirate activity and I don’t like it. We are far from regulated space and therefore far from aid if we are attacked.”

“I imagine they fear your Novas. I understand the pirates have received many a bloody nose since it entered the market.” Shacklock tried to reassure Dentill.

“I hope so…” Dentill paused, “I am detecting a number of freighters, I count three. They seem to have strange energy signatures and are headed this way. They are making no overt gestures, but their flight paths will intercept ours in approximately four mizuras, I will have to call you back.”

As Dentill’s hands flew across his sensor panel he could still not manage to penetrate the strange dampening surrounding the cargo holds of the freighters.

“Sundance Two” Dentill called though his comm. “Do you recognise the markings on those freighters?”

“I’m not sure sir, but they are certainly not from any corporation, they could be Indies.” Answered the younger pilot.

“I’m considering them bogies, until we can get a clearer ID check.” Dentill continued, “We will move to do a close scan I am concerned that they are getting too near for comfort.”

The two fighters accelerated with a flare from their plasma drives. As they drew closer it appeared the strange ships were argon mercuries however they seemed to be heavily converted in their cargo areas. Dentill raised an eyebrow and was about to comment when the freighters began ejecting cargo pods.

“Sir, what the hell are they up to? They seem to be dumping their cargo.” Razevksi called over the comm.

“I’m not sure Two…Wait they aren’t cargo containers they are pirate fighters. They must have converted the freighters as mobile ambush carriers. I’m counting six, no eight Bayamons.” Dentill replied, with more than a small amount of trepidation in his voice.

“Four Mandalays are also on an attack vector straight towards the Express.” Reported Razevski. “I am moving to engage.”

“Negative Two, it is imperative we stay together, we might outmatch the Bayamons in shields and firepower, but they’ll shred us to pieces if we split up.” Warned Dentill. “Sundance Four stay close to the Express, Three form up with us.”

“Aye sir.” Was Three’s short reply.

“Ok Two and Three, we will form the battering ram, were going to bludgeon our way through and then let the transport make a run for the gate. Four will follow at top speed and try to keep any ships away from it. We three will swing back to hold the rest in place.”

The engagement began to unfold. Sundance Three rapidly moved into position on Dentill’s wing. As the gap closed between the groups, Dentill and his two wingmen launched a wall of Dragon fly missiles against their foes. As the combined speeds brought the ships closer the missiles began to take a toll on the pirates, two of the Mandalays exploded into balls of fire, as their representations on Dentill’s gravidar winked out. The Mandalays looped over the three Novas and were seen engaged by the automated rear turrets. Purple bolts from the Gamma PACs lit up the inky blackness as the turrets tracked their targets. One stream of fire clipped a Mandalay causing its engines to explode, as it tumbled through space a second barrage turned it into a drifting cloud of debris and ionised gasses. One Mandalay was not going to be a serious threat to the transport. Sundance Four should be able to destroy it easily, thought Dentill in the lull between waves.

The pirate commander observed the quick destruction of his scouts and reassessed his strategy. He pulled three of his fighters back to join him, splitting the remaining four bayamon into two flight pairs on the flanks, hoping to encircle his enemies and possibly cause them to divide.

“Ok Sundancers, they’re trying to box us in. We are going to spring the trap. Pick a target and keep firing, we need to punch a hole right through them and then keep going. Lets show them why these ships are called Novas”

The three novas hurtled towards the main pirate flight group as the distance shrank simultaneously on each ship the flight computers called “Target is now in firing range.” Instantly the three pilots opened fire. A storm of plasma fire tore through the shields of three of the Bayamon. One after another three explosions like small suns flared in their visions.

The last Bayamon, piloted by the pirate commander, hurtled by to be tracked by the rear turrets of the Novas. As his shields began to fail, the pirate broke off, heading for the nearest station as fast as his failing engines would carry him. The remaining pirates, seeing the destruction of over half their numbers, and their leader fleeing the area decided discretion might be the better part of valour and broke off, heading for the nearby gate to Brennan’s Triumph at top speed.

Razevski let out a loud whoop. “Yeeehaw, Beta Plasma throwers rock. That’ll teach them.”

Dentill smiled at Razevski’s youthful enthusiasm. “Nice flying people, hopefully they’ll pass on why it’s a bad idea to play with us. All ships head for the gate.”

+++++

Dureena Fielding was in a very aggressive mood; she was annoyed that she was relegated to babysitting freighters. It was not her style and it didn’t bring glory or advancement and if nothing else she was ambitious. What she really wanted was to be acting commander, the post Marcus Gromwell was filling whilst Dentill was away. Her brooding was interrupted by a trilling beep emanating from the left breast pocket of her flight suit. She pulled out the small in-station communicator.

“Squadron Leader, this is Ensign Greene of the station communications centre, we have an urgent flash transmission coming in for you, could you please take it in the nearest booth please.”

Fielding acknowledged and headed towards the nearest privacy booth. She entered her security code and the screen began to display the pre-recorded message.

“Hi Dureena, this is Marcus here, I have a change of plan for your schedule. Corporation HQ in Heron’s Nebula are sending the Euripedes, a Mammoth Class TL to Hatikvahs Fate. You’re to leave the convoy escort to your flight group from Loral’s squadron and head for the West Gate in Aladna Hill. You will rendezvous with Euripedes there and then head for HTs Fate Captain Tambla will brief you further upon arrival. Make sure you are there in three Stazuras, Gromwell out.”

“Oh great,” thought Fielding, an even bigger baby, at least they had started to outfit them with some half decent firepower. Her stomach growled as she headed for her ship, the one benefit of a TL was the canteen; at least she would be able to catch up on the meal she was going to miss.

++++

The journey through Brennan’s Triumph and on towards Home of light was fairly uneventful. When the small convoy reached President’s End, A pair of GDI Corvettes had joined the formation to escort them through what was still looked like a warzone. Debris from the destroyed stations still littered the sector after the first major Khaak attack. Occasional swarms of Khaak ships jumped in at random intervals, keeping the patrol squadrons on constant alert, trying to protect the clean up crews, and keep the trading lanes open. As the convoy entered Home of Light, a squadron of Buster medium fighters escorted them the rest of the way to the Trading Station in the centre of the sector.

Once the Argon Express had docked Petre Shacklock saw that Dentill was coming to meet him.

“I say, that was some excitement, Rick.” Shacklock called to Dentill, “I am highly impressed with your flying. Seven pirates, to no losses on our side, superb.”

“I guess they’ll think twice about attacking GDI convoy’s from now on.” Replied Dentill. “Unless they take it personally of course.”

“I pray not… Oh look it seems that our greeting party has arrived.” Shacklock indicated a group of security personnel led by a man dressed in the uniform of the Argon Diplomatic Corp.

“Mr Shacklock, Welcome to Home of Light sector.” Said the diplomat. “I am Karl Fenri special aide to the honourable William Horace, Argon Ambassador to the trading guilds. I hear you had some trouble on the way here.”

“Nothing major, fortunately I had an excellent escort.” Shacklock nonchalantly replied. “May I present Wing Commander Rick Dentill, He is in charge of our outer sectors defence squadrons.”

“Commander Dentill, it is an honour, I have never met a real hero before.” Fenri’s greeting was warm. Dentill however simply smiled weakly, he could not work out how getting his ship blown up underneath made him a hero. People like Brett Serra they were the real heroes. He was about to say so when Fenri continued. “What’s it like in the private sector, different I imagine. I hear you are in command of nine squadron’s now, it must be some adjustment.”

Dentill was about to point out he only commanded three, when Shacklock gave him a warning gesture with his hands. He gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Well I guess, it must take some time to sink in. We must be off now, the summit will be starting in a few mizuras you have just enough time to get to your rooms to refresh yourselves and change. I will send a porter to escort you to the conference room when you are done.” With a parting nod, Fenri lwaked off with most of the guards.

Shacklock turned to Dentill, “I’m sorry Rick I guess I wasn’t clear, I know you’ve only met the squadron leaders for the HQ station, but in fact all the outer sector squadrons are under your command. The other eight squadrons tend to run themselves but they are still your responsibility. At present they are spread out between fourteen stations. Which is why it is hard to get them all together to introduce you to them.”

“I’m not angry Petre, I’m just surprised, it is a big jump. I used to lead another 11 ships not 131!” Dentill said a little awed. “This brings a whole new perspective to the job.”

“Moving on to bigger and better things Rick.” Shacklock’s smile was broad. “I want you to sit in on the conference for a few sessions. Oh and wear the new dress uniform we have provided in your room, it will help add distinction to our party.”

After the two men had separated to the respective quarters, Dentill showered quickly and shave the stubble from his face after the long flight to the summit. Once dressed in his new uniform he examined himself in the man high mirror on the wall. The uniform was something out of an historical holodrama. It was a black suit with a white shirt, the cuffs of the jacket displayed four thin rings of gold superimposed over slightly wider rings of dark green, these displayed his rank. One extra ring from that of his Navy uniform he noted with a smile. The whole ensemble was completed with a green tie and a stiff heavily starched pilots cap displaying a stylised version of the GDI shield Logo with sprouted wings on its brim. In a case on a cabinet he find a set of pilot wings made from pure gold ready for him to pin to his chest. As he brushed off imaginary specks of dust from his shoulders, he heard a knock at the door. As Dentill opened the door he saw a short woman in the uniform of the station crew. “Commander Dentill, I hope you are ready, will you follow me please.”

++++

Keltano’s honed reflexes brought him to full alertness in an instant. Distantly down the winding corridor he could hear all the way to the great hall. The celebration was still waxing strongly, the raucous laughter and loud music reverberating through the palace. In the midst of all this noise his well-tuned ears could still pick out one prideful voice as it came closer down the corridor. Shortly the giggles of a split female could be heard. “Two females” Keltano corrected his thoughts out loud. “This may complicate things.”

As the voices grew louder Keltano slipped back into the bedchamber and hid deep in the shadows behind a golden frieze depicting some long forgotten battle. He scanned the room with his eyes, mapping it out one last time. He would be soon be ready to strike and did not want to suffer the ignominy of failure by stumbling over a loose piece of furniture. He pressed himself further into his hiding place and held his breath. The door creaked open and in came a young split noble, with a pleasure slave on each arm. The noble turned his head to the elder of the two females.

“My dear, wait outside I want to be alone with your companion.” He spoke in a lustful voice. “I will call you when it is your turn.”

“Mi Lord” with a short curtsey the slave was gone, leaving the noble alone with his other slave, or so he thought.

The noble shoved the girl roughly towards the bed, as she sat down, he began to smother her with wet wide lipped sloppy kisses as only the inebriated seem able to perfect. Keltano crept slowly and stealthily across the room, deep in their amorous liaison the noble and his concubine did not notice the slight sound of his knife unsheathing. As the noble lifted himself up to pause and catch his breath, a strong arm grasped him round the throat. The knife in Keltano’s hand plunged once, twice, three times into the noble’s torso. To this point the girl had looked on in increasing horror, she finally managed to snap her mouth opening to scream. Keltano dropped the body of the noble letting his lifeblood gush out onto the richly embroidered sheets on the bed. In an instant he was upon her the knife forgotten on the bed as he cut off the scream with his broad hands clasped firmly around her throat. He watched as the concubine’s eyes first looked into his eyes pleadingly until slowly they bulged and finally lost the glow of life.

With the slave asphyxiated and the unconscious noble slowly bleeding to death Keltano began the rest of his work. He laid the two side by side upon the bed. With trouble he was able to force the dead hand of the slave girl to hold the knife. Finally he placed the hands of the noble around the slave’s neck. It might seem a ham job to a skilled argon crime investigator, but in the field of forensics the Split were amateurs. To them it would look like the concubine had stabbed the noble, whilst he strangled her in revenge. The emblem on the knife would do the rest.

Keltano crept to the window of the chamber and opened it; he then slipped out onto the balcony. Poking his head back into the room he called out in a fair imitation of the scream of a split female. Closing the window he melted into a corner of the balcony peering through the window, between a gap in the curtains. He watched the events in the room unfold with a smile across his lips.

The second slave girl heard the scream of her fellow concubine. At first she thought it was simply due to the over rough antics of the young noble. Quickly though she realised it sounded more like a cry for help. In a quandary she considered what to do. The other girl was her friend and thus she wanted to help. At the same time the noble would not be happy at being disturbed during his entertainment. She resolved to sneak in and see what was happening, at least that way she could use the defence of wanting to share in the pleasure.

She pushed the door open and crept into the room. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, she make out the still forms lolled on the wide bed. She moved closer only to realise in horror that the stillness was not due to satiation of their passions. The dark stain on the sheets caused by the noble’s blood drew her attention as she screamed. “MURDER, GUARDS, MURDER.” She collapsed on the floor sobbing.

Shortly afterwards, a pair of guards rushed into the room. Scanning the room for clues as to the sudden disturbance, the leader of the two noticed the slave on the floor, her torso heaving for breath after her bout of uncontrolled weeping. The lead guard grabbed her.

“What goes on hear?” he asked tersely, “Why did you call out?” getting no sense from the slave he looked up and saw the two corpses upon the bed, the look of anguish and rage on his face was clear evidence he new who the victim was. Turning to the other guard, “Run to the great hall and inform Lord Njy, his son has been murdered.” As the second guard hurried off, the first went over to the bodies. He took in the scene in an instant. Clearly the prince had been murdered by his concubine and had exacted vengeance as his life ebbed from him. The guard was prepared to assume it was simply the retaliation of an untamed slave, and then he saw the knife. He picked it up staring at the crest upon the hilt. He let out a bloodcurdling cry “ASSASSIN, Family Ryk you will pay in blood for this affront.”

Keltano stifled a snigger, the plan had worked, as the crisis here developed, all eyes would now be diverted to this corner of the galaxy, leaving Jxu to focus on his plans. As the room filled with more commotion he nimbly lowered himself to the lower balcony and headed for the sewers to make his escape.

[Graf_Grau]

Just a note to let you know I have added part II to this chapter

[KiwiNZ]

Very good read! Will get on the next chapter right away!