2182.
The Skillian Limit...
The blackness of space is deceptive.
The stars that seem like mere beads on black velvet are giants whose size the human brain cannot comprehend. You can look at the numbers all you want, but very few people can truly comprehend how gigantic these glowing balls of plasma are.
Apart from his ringing surname, Jordan Ding possessed such an ability - it couldn't be otherwise.
For an officer of the Alliance Space Force, the realisation of his microscopic size compared to the universe guarantees that the officer will soberly assess the risks and be less likely to do something desperately stupid.
"For fighter pilots, however, the requirements are just the opposite - you'd have to be a complete scumbag to be out in the vastness of space in a light shell, alone and without the ability to jump via Repeater."
The frigate Adriatica was a standard Alliance scout ship - impressive in docks for its size, but in the middle of open space, it became about as distinguishable as a grain of sand in the sea.
"What a dreadnought..."
Ding had strong nerves and looked extremely ordinary. A forty-year-old man with a head already beginning to bald but an impressive athlete's figure under his uniform. His face was elongated, already beginning to wrinkle.
In the silence of the conventional night watch, only the soft hum of the fans and the hissing of the coffee machine in the corner could be heard. Ding checked the machine's fastening to the floor in due time according to all safety rules.
In such conditions, all that was left was to think. The senior assistant's thoughts, however, were optimistic.
"Three standard 24 hours left. We reach the borders of the Hegemony, and without entering their space, we make ourselves known with a brief flash of a radio signal. To signify the Alliance's presence in the Skillian Limit and to let Earth know it's not forgotten its--"
- Captain! Attention, V.I. report, possible navigational error...
"...and then a week on the Citadel... Stop - what?"
- Explain?
The operator sent the perplexing data to the command display.
- Hmm... Interesting... - Behind these words, the experienced officer could hide simple curiosity and the phrase "Now we're going to die". Fortunately - there was the first option.
- One of the stars changed its properties? Are you not joking? - The X.O. stared dumbfounded at the data.
"The emission spectrum... Indeed, it has changed. And it's smaller in size by 0.5 per cent."
Half a per cent is a little. In everyday life, of course. But if you're talking about changing the size of a star by half a per cent, it won't end well.
A gigantic amount of stellar matter can't just vaporise somewhere. So the star got denser. So it's starting to pull towards its centre.
"And the last flight here was made by the previous shift a month ago..."
- Sound the alarm. Wake the Captain. Prepare all surveillance systems and tracking sensors.
The combat centre was in motion. It was like a fine-tuned machine in motion.
- Captain on the Bridge.
- Stand down! - Amanda Kipling looked around the room with a dusky look. Jordan vacated the Captain's bridge, outlining the situation...
After listening to the X.O., the woman nodded to the communications officer:
- "Tell Command: Adriatic to Alliance: Skillian Limit, Lama Cluster, Oko-II system. We're going on a reconnaissance mission. Attach a report and send it...
***
LV 310 relay bunker.
The grey concrete walls drowned out the howling wind a little. It wasn't much, though, just from "Apocalypse Trumpets" to "Wolves are out for your blood," but this planet was used to being happy about even that.
It had been long since the communications relay room had heard so much soldier swearing. The storm that had hit three days ago had been something out of the ordinary: it had been a hurricane walking the planet: the thick reinforced glass of the bunker had been blown clean out, and before the armoured gates were down, the elements had crushed all the sophisticated electronics to dust.
Like a giant sandblaster from hell, it went through the equipment. Now the communicators could enjoy the technological boxes, whose surfaces looked like they had been pulled off the assembly line before painting.
- This is just a mockery... There's nothing to fix. - Sergeant Hub muttered thoughtfully. Somehow the gas mask's lenses, burning red, managed to convey the communicator's sadness.
"Of course not - we were carrying nearly a tonne of spare parts, and we needed the whole equipment," thought Lieutenant Hux.
However, he said something else out loud:
- Make an accurate list, and inspect the room for possible spare parts.
The squad scattered around the room.
"One good thing - there could be more dead..."
Lieutenant Hux and his soldiers came to the bunker through the underground entrance: in their time, the Founders had worked hard to cut through the hard rock, and now the military had a real underground hive at their disposal, where various necessary things were stored.
At the same time, this hive allowed soldiers and repair crews to transfer a couple of hundred kilometres outside of Pyrrhus.
A storm as such was not unusual. Pyrrhus was located in a gigantic basin for a reason - the Founders realised that the usual layout would be a verdict on the inhabitants, and so the capital - and at the same time, the only major city on the planet - was constantly growing. Still, no building, not even the tallest, dared to rise above the level of the basin.
But the suddenness of the natural phenomenon led to losses: meteorological posts were lost, having only time to warn of the annoying elements, several freight and passenger trains derailed, and the surface infrastructure of the mines suffered serious damage.
All this could not help but cause panic, which was quickly stifled. Now the storm was raging on the other side of the planet.
"Command has sent some drones over there. The news says it's subsiding, and they've lowered the alert level, so we're living."
Hux grimaced as he looked at a small barchan in one corner of the bunker. The poor man sitting at his post had been literally torn apart by the currents of air and hard sand. They didn't even immediately recognise the dried pile of rags and something hard, white and crunchy as a human being.
- Done. - The sergeant handed the clipboard to the lieutenant. The officer's back aches when looking at the list of necessary assemblies and spare parts.
- All right, let's wrap it up. Put the spare parts over there, under lock and key - in case the storm comes back.
The soldiers breathed a sigh of relief - to walk along the concrete corridors without heavy and fragile luggage on their backs.
On this planet, people are used to rejoicing even over small things...
***
High orbit.
Aboard the Adriatic.
- So..." Amanda rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly. The last twenty-four hours of stimulants in her blood had been acceptable, but the Captain felt she would be over the endurance threshold in a little while.
This trip was not without problems: the defence circuit on the engine had failed, and the frigate was about to change course and move in disgrace to the nearest Alliance post when Peter Jones, the chief engineer, reset the computer with loud Russian curses while manually controlling the process. He had been reprimanded - orally - for such arbitrariness and a commendation in his personnel file.
Now we were talking about natural mysticism of universal - literally - scale.
- So... Let's repeat it again.
- The planet is equivalent in size to the planet Eye II. The discrepancy is a thousandth of a per cent. There's also a similar discrepancy in the mass of the planet. The orbit around the star - tentatively named Nova - is similar to Oko's. But-" The X.O. hesitated.
- But only on Oko there is active volcanic activity. - The Captain finished for the speaker. - And that's why the atmosphere is 75 per cent sulphur dioxide. There's an oxygen atmosphere here, though not good for breathing. And powerful pockets of radioactive contamination. Plus, probes have shown a high content of metals, including rare earth metals, practically on the planet's surface.
Whereas on Oko, all that can be mined is a disability pension.
Right?
The officers were embarrassingly silent.
Kipling realised that it was foolish to vent her irritation on her subordinates. After all, it was unlikely they had gone off and tiptoed to another planet while the woman slept. But sleep deprivation and nervousness were making themselves felt.
At that moment, one of the operators stared in amazement and whispered:
- Captain... I'm picking up a signal from the planet.
- More details? - The Captain clutched the armrest of the Captain's chair irritably.
XO Ding could have sworn he heard the crunching of titanium-reinforced carbon fibre.
The operator switched on the speakerphone...
Due to the advancement of technology, the galactic language remained the domain of diplomats, politicians, and big businessmen. Why study it when cheap and technologically advanced implants can be embedded in clothing at the throat or in a spacesuit, and in special cases - directly under the skin in the throat and ear area?
Especially since an attempt by a human or an Azari to speak to a Krogan or a Turian in their language could only elicit a definite reaction from the latter: hysterical laughter.
In this case, however, the translator was working strangely. Jerky, metal-like words, a strange mixture of many languages: the VI reported traces of English, Russian, German, and Walloon had been detected.
- Attention! Atmospheric probe transmitting image... Holy shit! - The operator slammed his mouth shut in fright, but no one noticed his noncommittal expression.
It resembled a termite pit in the section.
In the great plain, in the middle of the bare rocks, a giant depression was beginning to form.
But it was difficult to spot this hollow, for it was filled with buildings: chopped as if drawn on a ruler. It was as if someone had decided to build a residential city but had taken industrial objects as a basis: factories, mills, water towers, and fuel tanks.
All this grey splendour was occasionally highlighted by the snow-white walls of individual buildings or the glittering petals of solar panels on some of the roofs: they were much larger than the solar panels used in the Sahara.
- Holy shit... Is this a colony?
- Nobody built a colony here. No suicides... - The X.O. was equally shocked.
***
"An unreliable ally is a future enemy."
The Turian proverb was true.
Captain Kirrit had ordered only optical and passive systems to be used for surveillance. Still, even those were enough to confirm that something suspicious had happened in the Lama cluster.
- Hmm... Lama... One star, four planets. - The Captain shifted his gaze from the reference information to the latest.
- The system is stable. Strategically located, but no habitable planets. Eye II is the most favourable - it's a volcano planet.
The Captain flicked his mandibula in a puzzled manner.
- What do we see?
Navigator Zeloth clicked the halo key thoughtfully and displayed the image on the screen.
- Clear signs of economic activity. Cities, something resembling factories and plants - of unclear purpose. - The junior officer brought up another image. - And also - a huge megalopolis, which can easily accommodate millions of inhabitants, if we're talking about people.
And there's even something extremely similar to shipbuilding yards in orbit - which violates the terms of the Farixen agreement.
Plus, the planets are slightly smaller than the claimed dimensions.
Zeloth started searching the databases.
- This system was catalogued by the Alliance. The telemetry from the planets was also transferred there...
- I mean," the Captain stepped forward. The mandibles quivered meaningfully, reminding him that the turian was descended from raptors - the Alliance had been deceiving the Council all these years, orchestrating the forgery and fooling the galactic community?
The navigator smirked.
Even though a peace treaty had been signed with the humans and joint exercises had been held, relations between the Alliance and the Turian Hierarchy could not be called warm.
And if all attempts of armed clashes were suppressed by the Hierarchy's command, diplomatic jabs and mutual attempts to plant a slip did not stop for a minute.
- We're logging out quietly. Then contact our representative on the Council.
According to the law established in the turian navy, cases of treaty violations by other races had to be reported first to the ambassador and then to the military command.
***
- This is a strange situation. We've got an unlisted colony, an unusual planet, and an orbital station orbiting that planet. It's a good thing it's on the other side now; there's less chance of being spotted...
Trace the radio signals - we're going so we can't be picked up by laser detection systems and radar. Exit the system and contact the Udina ambassador. - Captain Kipling clenched her eyes painfully. The impending interaction with the diplomat boded only to worsen her mood.
"I'll bet that slippery eel will start his speech with the question, "Why didn't you land on the planet?" Lord, give me strength..."
- Check. - Ding smiled sympathetically at the Captain. - Plot a course to the nearest transponder...
***
Silence. Darkness.
Only a beam of light from the desk lamp cuts through the gloom. It plays on his hooked, long-broken, misshapen nose and pale bald head.
Thick hands with burn marks are sorting out the correspondence on a tablet.
Or rather, trying to sort it out - because the man returns to the space navigators' report time after time.
"...A radical change in the picture of the starry sky and the arrangement of stars, which coincided with the storm: for comparison, the pictures of the starry sky are attached."
He was not a professional astronaut, but even a cursory glance was enough to realise that the pictures taken from the same point were extremely different. Several new - and very, very bright - stars appeared. And it was also possible to observe a whole cluster as if someone had splashed the blackness of the sky with bright paint - greenish-pink, however strange such a definition of colour might sound.
Or was it space debris and electrical discharges in the atmosphere?
Go figure - on this planet, ball lightning sometimes collides with aircraft!
And there was also a report from the space defence forces - about a strange ship that first flew around the planet in a high orbit - probably doing reconnaissance! - and then travelled away from the planet.
And there was no way to get to it... The shipyards could have hit it with E.M. cannons, but the shipyards were on the other side of the planet at the time.
"ISA scout"? Well, what could he actually see that they didn't know?"
The founder and first Emperor of the Helghan Empire, Skolar Visari, furrowed his brow, trying to remember - if there was anything on the planet's surface that might have alerted the enemy.
"We haven't conducted manoeuvres; the equipment is in underground hangars..."
But the feeling of impropriety and that he was missing something didn't go away.
***
At the same time, the miniature scout ship was racing away from the system, carefully avoiding the sensors of the Turians and humans.
And aboard the scout were a trio of extremely contented Salarians serving in the Salarian Union's long-range space intelligence service. In a few hours, the hyperactive amphibians sent several probes to the surface, received them back with samples of soil, water, and even one large insect (alas - it did not survive the transport), recorded the conversations between the Turians and the Earthlings, and also kept a record of everything during their stay near the planet. Radio messages noted the schedule of ground rail transport and aircraft (the latter were very few due to bad weather)... And yes - the climate record was also made and lovingly added to the report, as well as the analysis of soil, which revealed the entire periodic system of chemical elements of Professor Armid.
And somewhere in the shipyards in Citadel Space, the first joint ship, a joint project of the Turian Hierarchy and the Alliance, was being completed.
And this ship was lovingly being looked at by Alliance Captain Anderson and his senior assistant, Jane Shepard...