The Heart of Matter: Odyssey One (11 page)

The colonel smiled thinly, as if the words Rael had spoken were amusing in some way, but merely nodded. “I’m certain that we’ll work something out. These are my main advisors, Admiral. Captain Scott…”

A man in a mottled uniform of sandy colors stepped forward and nodded. “Admiral.”

“Scott is an expert on what we call ‘combined arms,’” Reed went on. “He’ll be in charge of liaising between your naval forces and the ground forces.”

Rael almost frowned at that, but swallowed his questions until later and merely nodded.

“Major Carson”—Reed gestured to a rather large man in drab clothing—“he’s a combat engineer and specialist in field expedient mayhem.”

A few of the men chuckled while Tanner frowned, trying to decide if the translators had scrambled some of the words as they were wont to do. Again, he pushed his questions aside and nodded. “Major.”

“Master Chief Wilson,” Reed went on, gesturing to a barrel-chested man in Navy blues. “Unarmed combat trainer, demolitions, and one of the best commo men in the business.”

Wilson stood about six feet six inches, and Rael Tanner had to crane his head to look up at the man, even from eight feet away. He didn’t change his expression, however. In his days in the Colonial Exploration Fleet, he’d had to deal with a great many people who towered over him, and giving them the satisfaction of even the slightest intimidation would have placed him in a very poor position, indeed.

“Master Chief,” he said evenly, then glanced over at Eric for the first time since Reed began speaking. “I understand most of these things, but what is the word…
commo
?”

“Communications specialist, Admiral, sir,” Wilson spoke up for himself, holding his position very carefully as the alien admiral looked him over again. As the smaller man’s eyes lighted on him, Wilson resisted the urge to look down at him and instead kept his eyes pinned right on a far wall.

“Thank you, Master Chief,” Tanner said after a moment, running the odd title through his mind as he spoke it.

His own people had no ranks to measure it against, and he wondered where this “master” stood in the line with the others present.

Reed apparently decided that it was time to speak up again. “These are my advisory staff; the rest of my team is still
on the
Odyssey
, Admiral, waiting for instructions. If I could be directed to this Commander Jehan?”

“Of course.” Tanner nodded. “Cathan!”

“Sir?” A man stepped up quickly.

“Show these men to guest quarters and inform Nero that the Terrans have sent an advisor team.”

“Of course, Admiral,” the man replied, then looked diffidently at Reed. “If you would follow me?”

Reed and the others nodded and followed him off the platform, leaving only Tanner, Weston, and their own “entourages” standing out in the “cold.”

Tanner smiled slightly, gesturing toward the closest tower. “Would you care to join me for a meal, Captain?”

“It would be my pleasure, Admiral.”

Nero Jehan roused himself slowly when the soft chime broke through his deliberations. He rose to his feet and walked over to the gently curved door, keying the access control.

“Yes?” he growled.

The man at the door, one of Tanner’s boys, if Nero remembered correctly, flinched back in surprise from the mostly nude giant glaring out at him.

“A…Admiral Tanner sent me, sir.”

“Why?” Nero asked gruffly.

“T…uh…the Terrans, Commander. They’ve arrived.”

“I’m aware of that,” Nero replied stonily. He didn’t like dealing with the majority of the people here on Ranquil; they were too nervous and afraid of being forthright with one another.

“They…uh…brought advisors with them, Commander. Military advisors.”

Nero curled up his lip and barely refrained from shaking his head. Of course they had brought military advisors. It was obvious even from the short time in which they had been on Ranquil that the ground forces here couldn’t fight a stiff breeze.

“They wish to meet with you, Commander.”

“Where? When?”

“Uh…at your leisure, sir. I’ll have a conclave room cleared.”

“Do so. Tell them I will be ready in one division.”

“Y…Yes, sir.”

Nero shut the door in the man’s face.

PLANET RANQUIL

▸“SO, CAPTAIN, TELL me of your world, now that we have more time,” Rael Tanner said as he finished pouring a tall drink for Eric.

Eric considered the question as he picked up the drink, examining the dark-tinted liquid. He bought some time by lifting the drink to his mouth, breathing in the aroma, and finally taking a sip. It wasn’t alcoholic, whatever it was, but its taste had a sharp bite he wasn’t familiar with.

Not unpleasant, just unfamiliar.

He found that all the food was in a similar vein. Close enough to things he was familiar with, but just enough off that he often found himself taking second takes with every bite or sip.

“Well, Admiral,” he said with a crooked smile, “I wish I knew where to start…”

“Come now,” Tanner replied, “surely it’s not that hard? You yourself said that your world was young. Can there be that many places to start that you can’t choose between them?”

Eric stifled a laugh. “We’re not old by your standards, I guess, but it’s still got more than a few thousand years of history to deal with. Most of it not especially nice.”

Rael considered that statement. “Ithan Chans believed you to be of the ‘Others,’ a splinter of the colonies from many thousands of years ago—so long that it’s myth and legend now, scary stories for children to frighten one another with.”

Eric nodded, remembering what Milla had said back then. “Yes. I remember. I’m afraid that a lot of the things she said then went right over our heads. What were the ‘Others,’ exactly?”

Rael frowned, unwrapping the meaning of the words as they came through the translator. It was an expression, he finally decided. “They are…a moral tale, yes?”

“I believe that we’d call it a fable, perhaps, or a morality play,” Eric replied, thinking about smilar stories he’d grown up hearing, or reading, about.
Le Morte d’Artur
came to mind, among many others.

Rael nodded. “Yes. The second sounds correct. I’m not familiar with the first word you used. Still, no matter. The Others were, according to legend, a faction with the original colonies that did not believe in the power of the Oath.”

Eric had to hold his hands up again, smiling apologetically. “Sorry to interrupt, but what’s this Oath? Milla mentioned it as well, but wouldn’t talk about it when I asked.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Rael managed to smile slightly, despite being a little uncomfortable. “Ithan Chans is an adherent of the Old Ways. Most people here are, probably as much as ninety-five out of a hundred or more. The Old Ways include the Oath; however, they hold it in extremely high regard and do not speak of it easily.”

Eric nodded, thinking back to his first impressions. He’d been right to assume it was religious, then, and probably better left well alone.

“The Oath, in its simplest form, is ‘Do No Harm,’” Tanner said after a moment. “Though, there are degrees and long sections describing guardianship and so forth.”

“Sounds like what our doctors swear,” Eric replied with a slight smile.

“Pardon?”

“Our doctors have to swear an oath before they are allowed to treat a patient,” Eric said seriously. “I don’t know exactly how it goes, but I think is starts with, ‘First, do no harm,’ meaning if you are going to treat a patient, your first responsibility is not to harm him any further.”

Rael nodded. “That is remarkably close to the Oath sworn. Perhaps there is a connection between our people, after all.”

Eric shrugged. “Maybe. Probably, in fact, but that oath isn’t that old by your standards. Two, three thousand years, at most.”

“Very young, indeed.” Rael nodded. “Still, a connection, even if only in spirit.”

NACS ODYSSEY
Ranquil Planetary Orbit

▸COMDR. STEPHEN “STEPHANOS” Michaels stood in the doorway to the Archangels’ common room, eyeing the nine people sitting inside. Other than Paladin and his wingman, Lieutenant Samuels, who were out on the CSP, the entire group was here. With the losses to the flight, they’d gotten permission to recruit back up to strength, but as he’d found out the hard way, the current Congress wasn’t interested in expanding the flight past its current size.

During the war, the Archangels had served as a Special Operations flight group, flying missions deeper into more dangerous territory than any other airborne group in the Allied Nations. In a world wired for sight and sound, their exploits had become legendary practically overnight, with major news networks running full-color, high-definition, and often holographic documentaries compiled from their onboard computers.

While even Stephanos, who was as huge a supporter of the Archangels as it was possible to be, wouldn’t claim that the Archangels were anything more than another part of the
framework that had eventually won the war, to the public, they were quickly turned into the symbol of victory.

Since the war, however, Steph had learned the hard way that symbols of victory were the first to be stashed safely out of sight. He didn’t mind the assignment to the
Odyssey
, though it was largely just to get him and his team out of the Sol System and away from cameras. In fact, he had to admit that he reveled in it to a certain degree. The last time they’d come out they’d been able to prove that the Archangels could take on the neighborhood bully in a much bigger neighborhood, so he couldn’t quite manage to regret the assignment, despite the losses.