Ep.#6 - "Head of the Dragon" (The Frontiers Saga) (21 page)

“Major Prechitt reports that things on Corinair are beginning to stabilize somewhat. Civil security forces and emergency services have managed to get back up and running, and communications networks are slowly being reestablished. It seems all the hospitals have their own networks in order to manage resources and balance patient loads amongst them. They’ve piggy-back their comm-traffic over the medical network until they can get all of their routing points back on line.”

“Is there any kind of casualty count yet?”

“It’s too soon to tell. There are thousands of injured in the Aitkenna area alone… hundreds of thousands planet-wide. They haven’t even started with the death toll yet. They’ve only just started to haul the bodies to a central processing area. Reports are that they are planning to cremate everyone.”

“I thought the Corinairans bury their dead,” Nathan wondered. The people of Earth had all but discarded the practice of burials more than a millennia ago, mostly due to space limitations on an overcrowded homeworld. The bio-digital plague had completely ended the practice of burials altogether, as the survivors feared the deceased could infect them even after death.

“It’s probably a major logistical problem to bury them all,” Cameron said, “not to mention a potential health problem as well. It’s probably more expedient to take a DNA sample and send the body straight to the incinerators.”

The idea of hundreds of thousands of bodies being processed and incinerated like common trash was a sobering thought, but one that Nathan realized was in the best interests of the survival of Corinair. “Any word from the government?”

“Local governments are beginning to hook into the medical networks. The national and planetary governments have yet to recover. They were the hardest hit. I suspect they were all on the primary target list.”

“You really think the Wallach was executing a prewritten target list?”

“All the evidence points to that.”

“The idea that someone took the time to calculate how to most expediently destroy an entire civilization is…”

“Yeah, I know,” Cameron agreed.

“What about the Prime Minister?”

“They’re still trying to dig down to where they think he is located. They have intermittent signs of survivors, but they have no idea as to their identities.”

“What about their industrial capacity?” Nathan asked. It was a cold question in the light of so many deaths, but it was a necessary one.

“Reduced by about eighty percent of normal, I’m afraid.”

“What about the ones that were cranking out point-defense rounds for our rail guns?”

“Unfortunately, they were destroyed.”

“Can we retool any of the surviving factories?”

“Possibly, but it will take weeks, if not months. More than half of the planet’s power generation facilities were also destroyed.”

Nathan took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he considered the report. “So I guess we’re not going to get much help from the Corinairans going forward.”

“I think at this point, the people of Corinair have their hands full. I’m not sure they’re going to be able to recover from this one, Nathan. I mean, they don’t even have reliable methods to move food and water to the people who need it, let alone continue to produce it.”

“We need to put pressure on the Ancotans,” Nathan declared. “They have more than enough food and water to go around. They probably have plenty of shuttles they could loan to the Corinairans as well. If we can get them to cooperate, we might be able to get some serious relief efforts underway.”

“Well, I’ve already gathered up the Ancotans that were part of the crews of the Yamaro and the Loranoi,” Cameron informed him. “They’ll be arriving in a few hours. Hopefully, they will be of some help in convincing the people of Ancot to side with us.”

“Let’s hope.”

* * *

After spending an hour with Tug discussing his various battle plans, Nathan finally had some time off, and he was determined to carry on his tradition of meaningless guy talk over a meal with his friend and chief engineer, Vladimir. Back when they were both new ensigns starting their first tour on the Aurora, they had shared quarters and dined together whenever possible. Once fate had pushed command upon him, Nathan continued the tradition of dining with his friend, as the chance to relax and talk about anything other than the ship’s business was always a welcome distraction. Of course, the conversation always started with ship business, but his friend always seemed to find a way to steer the subject toward less official topics. Unfortunately, he was quite late, and he only hoped that Vladimir had not given up on him and left.

Despite the fact that the Aurora had both a captain’s and an officer’s mess, Nathan and Vladimir had always dined in the crew mess. However, with all the additional Corinari troops on board, the mess hall was not only crowded, but noisy. The officer’s mess had worked for a while, but it was not always an option, as it had also become somewhat crowded. The only solution had been to succumb to the trappings of rank and utilize the captain’s mess.

The first thing he noticed was that he missed the long walk from the bridge to the mess hall. The captain’s mess was on the command deck, which put him only a minute away from his ready room. The walks had been a chance for him to be alone and think, not to mention to stretch his legs. Now, whatever he wanted would be provided for him at any time in a room that was dedicated to his personal dining. He knew that most captain’s used their mess as a place to meet and share a meal with the junior officers, but it seemed like such a waste of space to him. He had even suggested to Cameron that the space be reallocated for something more important, but she had advised against it, at least for the time being. He had insisted, but in the end, she had won based on the argument that it would take too much effort to convert, as it had its own galley and pantry, along with all the plumbing, electrical, and fire suppression systems as well.

What it did not have was a cook. When Nathan arrived, he found Vladimir in the kitchen hovering over a large skillet on the hot stove, a slightly soiled apron tied around his waist. There were remnants of several unknown vegetables lying around, and one of the cutting boards was covered with the blood of something recently butchered. The smell of cooking food filled the room, the aroma reminiscent of garlic, meat, and tomato. There were other smells as well, ones Nathan could not identify, but that was not uncommon since they had started eating nothing but Corinairan food more than a month ago.

“Vlad, what the hell are you doing?”

“I guess you did not know,” Vladimir answered.

“Know what?”

“That the captain’s mess does not yet have a cook.”

“It never crossed my mind, to be honest. I figured we’d just have something sent up from the mess hall.”

“When you did not show up, I went looking for something to eat. Did you know you have entire pantry here?”

“I didn’t even know I had a separate kitchen in here.”

“Well, you do my friend. And it is full of food, let me tell you. So I decided to cook something.”

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Nathan admitted.

“Neither did I. I guess I spent so much time as a child helping babushka Vera in the kitchen, I picked up a few things.

“Babushka Vera?”

“My mother’s mother… How do you say? Grandmother?”

“Ah yes.”

“Very positive lady she was. Her name, Vera, it means ‘hope’ you know.”

“And she was a good cook?”

“Amazing, yes.”

“What are you making?”

“Golupzi.”

“What is that?”

“It is cabbage stuffed with meat, onions, carrots, and garlic, except we do not have garlic, or carrots, or cabbage. We also do not have tomato sauce or sour cream, so I guess it is not really golupzi. Maybe we should think of a different name for it. What do you think?”

Nathan peered into the skillet at the bubbling, rose-colored sauce. Floating around in the sauce were strange blobs that looked like large leaves of a plant that resembled cabbage. Vladimir had apparently tried to fill the leaves full of his meat and veggie mixture and roll them up neatly. Unfortunately, most of his attempts had failed, and the leaves had come unrolled, allowing their contents to spill out into the sauce surrounding them. Although it smelled appetizing, its appearance left something to be desired. “I don’t know. How do you say ‘mess’ in Russian?”

“Very funny. Wait until you taste it; you will see,” Vladimir promised as he began serving the few stuffed rolls that had held together.

“Do you think you made enough?” Nathan asked after he noticed the amount still left in the skillet.

“Babushka Vera worked in restaurants. She did not know how to make small portions.” Vladimir laughed. “We ate well, believe me.”

“
Captain, Comms,
” Naralena called over Nathan’s comm-set.

“Comms, Captain. Go ahead.”

“
Sir, Lieutenant Commander Nash needs to see you.
”

“Can it wait? I’m about to eat dinner.”

“
She says it’s urgent, sir.
”

“Have her come here,” Vladimir suggested. “We have plenty.”

“Maybe we should taste it first before we start poisoning the crew.”

“See if I cook for you again.”

“Comms, Captain. Send Lieutenant Commander Nash to the captain’s mess.”

“
Yes, sir.
”

“I wonder what she wants,” Vladimir said as they carried their plates into the dining room.

“She’s probably found something in the recon data from the Juntor system.”

“Where is that?” Vladimir asked as he took his first bite of the golupzi.

“A little over six light years from here,” Nathan said, “about three light years from Takara. There’s not supposed to be much there, a mining colony or something.”

“Then why recon it?”

“Tug thinks it would be a good place for the Ta’Akar to hide a few reserve ships.” Nathan took a tentative bite of his food. “Hey, this isn’t too bad.”

“I told you,” Vladimir answered, proud of himself. “It was not easy to make, let me tell you. I had to taste a lot of different Corinairan ingredients to find proper substitutes, so do not be surprised if you find a lot of vegetables in your cold locker with bites taken from them.”

Nathan took another bite. “What’s that unusual flavor? It’s really strong.”

“I don’t know what it is called,” Vladimir admitted, “but I used it as a garlic substitute. Did I use too much?”

“I’m not sure. I like it, but maybe it is a bit strong.”

“So, what other systems are we going to recon?” Vladimir asked.

“Pretty much all of them if we have enough time. I’d like to have an idea of where all the empire’s ships are located.”

The hatch opened from the corridor, revealing Jessica, Sergeant Weatherly, and a man Nathan had never seen before. He assumed the stranger was one of the Corinairan technicians. Nathan only hoped this man wasn’t there because Jessica or the good sergeant had caught him doing something untoward.

“Lieutenant Commander, Sergeant,” Nathan greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“I think you should talk to this guy,” Jessica told him.

Nathan looked the man over. He was a few years younger than Nathan, a bit on the scrawny side, and dressed in an unmarked jumpsuit much like many of the technicians working on the Aurora. “And you are?”

“Soloman, Captain. Dexter Soloman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Mister Soloman was one of the volunteers that helped us retake the ship, sir,” Sergeant Weatherly stated.

“According to the reports, he’s the man who killed Captain de Winter.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m not sure, sir,” Dexter admitted. “There’s some debate about which of us actually made the shot. It was either me or my friend, Sal.”

“Well, either way, we owe you a debt of gratitude,” Nathan told him. “Would any of you care to eat? We have plenty.” Jessica and Sergeant Weatherly both declined. After a few moments, Nathan looked at Dexter. “Mister Soloman, how about you? Are you hungry?”

Dexter looked surprised at first, his gaze moving back and forth between the captain and Jessica, unsure if he should accept. Finally, Jessica nodded to him. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I’m actually very hungry.”

“I’ll dish some up for him,” Vladimir said as he rose from the table.

“This is an honor, sir,” Dexter said, a smile filling his face as he took a seat at the table. Jessica sat down next to him. As usual, Sergeant Weatherly maintained a watchful position from the hatch.

“Are you from Corinair, Mister Soloman?” Nathan asked.

“Actually, that’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” Jessica told him. “He’s not really from Corinair after all. He only led us to believe he was.”

“You lied to us?” Nathan wondered. Vladimir returned with a plate full of golupzi and a glass of water, setting it down in front of Mister Soloman.

“It was more like I lied to the Ta’Akar, sir,” Dexter responded. “It just spilled over onto you.”

“What the hell is that stuff?” Jessica wondered aloud.

“Glopzi,” Nathan responded.

“
Golupzi
,” Vladimir corrected.

“I think you were right the first time,” Jessica commented.

“So if you’re not from Corinair, where
are
you from, Mister Soloman?” Nathan asked.

“I’m from Ancot,” he responded as he took his first bite.

“But you do speak Corinairan, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir, I do. My father was born and raised on Ancot. He spent ten years teaching advanced agricultural techniques at a technical school on Corinair. I was actually born on Corinair. We moved back to Ancot when I was about seven, I think.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Captain, when I was drafted into the service of the empire, my father warned me not to reveal my relationships to the Ta’Akar.”

“Why?”

“My father is a rather influential man on Ancot. He feared that, if the Ta’Akar knew who my father really was, they might use me as leverage against him at some point. When I was in training camp on Takara, my bunkmate was from a rural part of Corinair, and he had trouble learning the Takaran language. Since I still remembered most of my Corinairan, I helped him learn the language of the empire. We spent hours talking each night. He told me of his homeworld, and I told him of mine. I knew so much about him and the village he came from that, when I was assigned to the Yamaro, I simply pretended to be from Corinair.”