Kingdoms Away 1: Jorian Cluster Archives (13 page)

{[JOIRAN CLUSTER] [Pteraspis] [On route to
Skorpios]

[917117/2583/152/space]}

Ever since the Trimador delegations had provided the
Cluster with the report on new tested speeds some six revolutions
ago, Donaven found it hard to keep up. He left more and more of the
Verging to the newly promoted senior captain. He felt useless and
disliked the feeling immensely, even though the voyage was an
important factor in finding the girl.

Experts had made the point that the quicker
they could travel the higher the chances of her survival. The
Trimadorian Nest had provided a further three ships to the search
but answered only to their superiors. They had been provided with a
plan by Chen Sorance to ensure they didn’t double up efforts.
During the debriefing Chen had been about to say something about
their disinterest in the plan of the Search and Rescue Coordination
Unit but the Trimador commander had interrupted sternly, addressing
his crew that it was the wisest action to follow the arrangement.
Chen had accepted the interruption but Donaven was suspicious.

What could not be disputed was the dedication
that the Trimadorians had shown to work tirelessly on the
acceleration and deceleration procedures and had improved them by
adjusting the Metamorphic Shields to accommodate the new
velocities.

Donaven was wishing he was OnPlanet. Six
revolutions into the S&R and he had only six holidays. There
was more and more Verging now that they could travel faster, which
meant they could investigate more planets. To date there was still
no sign or word of the girl.

He sat in his quarters, alone.

Realization had come to him far too late. He
wasn’t a popular man. Not that people's opinion mattered to him but
it did effect the work environment. He loved being in space, and
that was why he tried to get up as many space missions as possible.
But the promotions kept coming. The higher the promotion, the less
time in space. He hated to think of what that implication
meant.

He weighed up his options.

Time was of no importance. He had some land
and a cabin on Parlin; he could settle down there for a while. He
could even go into the private shipping business. He could also
take up a new major. He already had eight majors. It was coming up
to his eighth hundredth year and every hundred years a celebration
was held. He didn’t think anyone would know on the ship of his
upcoming eighth. He was born in the seventh hundredth year on
Behemoth. His parents had been born from the first scientists. They
had witnessed the Third Hostility and said they’d never forget the
day that the Elysians led an army of animals. He loved listening to
those stories full of pride that his parents had not been
slaughtered. His parents continually told him that they were guests
in the Joiran Cluster and could continue to make it their home so
long as they respected the planets and animals. New planets were
colonized.

He was twenty-one when Pakad was founded. The
next planet had been Apis and he’d been two hundred and
ninety-seven. He and his wife had decided to colonize the next
planet, which he still regretted. Parlin became an agricultural
planet and the people it attracted were originally open and honest,
but gradually they became influenced by seedy higher powers who
only remained in line with Joiran standards because of their fear
of the Elysians. It was the only planet to date where a desire for
power was openly expressed and it caused problems within the
cluster. The issue was being addressed by the Coalition.

His wife had loved it there but Donaven had
hated it. After two hundred years he left. His wife agreed to have
their bond annulled because she refused to give up her powerful
position to leave with him. He’d hoped that the Parlin government
would stabilize after their initial rise to power but it didn’t
happen. His wife had been in her position for over two hundred
years, and that was one hundred years too long according to EO
standards. He knew the Parlinese overcame such restrictions by
slyly altering position titles and felt that the investigations
were far too slow. He believed the reports to be projecting
falsified results rather than presenting accurate ones in all areas
of business, sustainability and trade. What they couldn't hide
through satellite imaging was that they had dropped below the fifty
percent mark of flora and fauna. It also had been noticed that the
Elysians increased their activity on that planet. At first the
Parlinese officials had claimed it was because of the positive
state of the planet.

Everyone on the planet was looked after, no
one could dispute that, but some were simply cared for more than
others. Parlin was now under investigation to the displeasure of
the arrogant Parlinese leaders and its torpid inhabitants.

He leaned back in his chair, musing. Maybe
that’s why he wasn’t popular … the Parlinese superciliousness had
rubbed off on him and yet he couldn't even convince himself of
that; he knew why he wasn’t liked. It had started with the visit
from Sorance over six years ago. During Chen's stay a Junior
Captain continually made solid decisions while he had been
floundering. Since then there had been discreet talks between
himself and the junior captain who had been very nervous about
pointing out Donaven's deficiencies, specifically with his attitude
and work. He had taken it on board and, while not agreeing with
everything, had tried to improve. Years later he had promoted the
junior captain and was surprised to overhear people were staggered
that he had done so. This annoyed and hurt him. He had never
recalled the fact that anyone had said he was unfair. Demanding of
perfection, yes. Pedantic, maybe. The new captain had once
mentioned that praise was necessary to keep the crew motivated and
happy. Why wouldn’t they be happy? Donaven just didn’t understand.
Praise always felt awkward to him. If they completed their assigned
duties, then they were only fulfilling what they had been employed
for. Why praise someone for doing what they were supposed to do? If
someone exceeded their duties, yes, then he could see that praise
may be in order.

The first time, after some signals from the
captain, he praised someone for what he personally considered an
ordinary achievement; the person had been red-faced, and bracing
for chastisement. Donaven blurted out the praise and felt heat rise
to his own face; he shuffled his feet and looked everywhere except
at the shipmate. At least his dark skin would have hidden most of
the pink. The captain had saved the moment by drawing the astounded
person away, reinforcing the compliment and distracting the other
onlookers somehow. Donaven had been too busy escaping to see what
was done. He still grimaced over the memory.

The meetings continued. He should become more
hands on. He should trust the crew and not look over their
shoulders. He should give up some of his assigned duties such as
fire warden, first aid officer, evacuation chief, verging leader
and so on. He countered some of the suggestions with what he
considered his good contributions, such as continually putting out
procedures and messages to help the crew but this was countered
with him being labelled “draconian.” The then-junior captain
squirmed in her chair as she said this, to which Donaven promptly
told her squirming wasn’t appropriate for a soon-to-be senior
captain.

Even after this last conversation Donaven had
still felt himself to be in the right. That was until a minor
blunder a few months back. That was when he fully realized that he
did have a problem. In every Major he had studied previously and
worked, he had always been right. For the first time he had been
blundering around but he still had the attitude of someone
faultless. It made him look and feel like an idiot. It was not an
emotion he liked.

The decision was easy once he put his mind to
it. It was time to move on to the next thing.

They were on route for Skorpios, and it would
be his first visit to that Galaxy. But he decided that it would be
a visit of some time. He didn't want to go back to Parlin after
refreshing his unpleasant memories. They had been re-routed to
Leda, one of the planets of Skorpios, only forty-five years
founded. They would be rendezvousing with a space ship at Nuffi’s
Patch. Donaven had heard the spaceport was exceptionally beautiful
and the planet was Tribal Based. Because the planet and its
inhabitants were only new, only two percent of the population were
a part of the Conglomerate Games. There would be no exporting of
resources for at least another one hundred and twenty-three years
until they were properly established.

He shouldn’t have any problems getting
permission to stay. They were always grateful for experienced
people, and he certainly had the experience in colonizing a new
planet. He dreamed of helping a planet obtain one hundred percent
flora and fauna ratings. Taya, the other founded planet in
Skorpios, had a rating of ninety-five percent, the best in the
Joiran Cluster. Leda was currently on eighty-six percent. Room for
improvement.

He waited no longer and filled in the
resignation papers. He called the captain and asked her to witness
his signature. She looked at the document in surprise.

He held up a hand to stall any comment from
her, “Don’t bother. We both know I don’t belong here and am not
needed. Just sign the documents. I’ll need to change accommodation
as well, so please arrange that for me.”

“Yes, sir.” She signed the documents with a
lump in her throat. She left him whistling away as he began to pack
up his gear.

Within a few days, he was installed into his
new, smaller cabin. He liked it. He made himself useful and
surprised many people by turning up to improve things before he
left. Suddenly he found he was once again making things right and
therefore made himself happier, if not necessarily popular.
Crewmates did, however, treat him differently, not quite with
respect but an improvement on the previous attitudes.

On one shift, Donaven was going through the
old reports when something interesting caught his eye. He had three
reports opened up simultaneously to investigate the reporters
displayed on his back wall monitor. He was standing in front of it,
making notations using his stylus to highlight the errors. Once
again they hadn’t filled in the information out correctly. As he
was studying the margin formatting on one of the documents, a
centimeter out, a mention of the Elysians caught his eye. He
instantly saw the huge creatures in his mind, as both described by
his parents and his own encounters with the rarely seen spatial
animals. He read further, this time ignoring the layout
problems.

The report next to it held similar accounts.
He paused for a moment and then immediately set up a new document
on his well-lit wall monitor. He brought up five more documents. He
began tapping away at the screen, making notations and references.
Very quickly, he discovered something crucial.

He sent a call for the captain. Amir or not,
none questioned his authoritative voice and the captain came down
to his humble abode. Afterwards, an urgent message was sent, not
only to the Council but to all ships. Donaven made the suggestion
and the captain agreed. There was a special note for the Science
Vessel the girl’s parents were on, the Sordes, and the vessel
seemed to be concentrating around the center of the Octant. This
would certainly be of interest to them. He had to be careful too,
and he mulled over if he should warn them. Angrily he added in his
warning. Angry because accusations about his pedantic ways had
hurt. But better for them to consider him pedantic than to allow
his emotions to impair his judgement.

{[JOIRAN CLUSTER] [Science Vessel, Sordes]
[Oriri]

[917233/2583/268/space]}

It had been such a long time now since they had seen
Serafina that Robin and William were used to the schism in their
lives. The horror of that before and after sequence wracked them at
different periods. The council had tried to encourage them back to
Saxe but the couple had refused. Everything had changed and they
lived and breathed the search. Robin was sure she had a hole in her
heart and was constantly trying to imagine what Feena was doing.
William, on the other hand, spent his time going over and over why
she had been kidnapped and all the possible scenarios as to who
would benefit and who had the technology and resources to carry on
the project. He refused to think that someone would simply sabotage
the project out of spite. If they knew enough to kidnap her and the
samples, they knew just how important she was. The scientists were
equally as zealous for their samples and some individually said
quiet goodbyes to the girl. None liked to think it but they had
been worried at the test results when she was still with them. She
was not what they had anticipated, not physically, emotionally,
intellectually or mentally.

When Mal Peroza asked Robin and William
personally if they wanted to go back to Saxe, they had both
simultaneously blurted out a “no.” But just recently Robin had
discovered she was pregnant. Now, they had another crossroad to
consider. Many families brought their children up on board and all
ships, aside from ships called Squirts, had ample ways to meet the
needs of the children. The only requirement was that a period of
ten years of the child’s life at some stage had to be lived on
planet.

Feena would be now be twelve. Robin stroked
the old teddy of her daughter’s. As far as Robin was concerned
Feena may have been her maternal child. Robin had been a part of
the project from the time Feena was developed to the time she was
transferred to her womb. Both Robin and William fully understood
the hopes the Genetic Council put on the success of the project and
both of them had stipulated that in the event Serafina did not meet
the criteria that she would never know her origins and would become
the rightful daughter of R&W Rushton.