Solar system.
Sometime before I met Junior Lieutenant Rynych...
Space... In space and only in space can a person realise that everything is relative.
The pilot says that just a little bit, one jump over the relay - and the ship will arrive at its destination. However, this "just a little bit" is measured in millions of kilometres!
"One light-year" - is not the most immense value for a mass relay. Every day, ships jump a much greater distance - but if you translate this "one light year" into kilometres, you get a length that not every human being can take.
And not every earthling accustomed to flying to the nearest space body to Earth - the Moon - realises what a great distance they are travelling!
However, the solar system has shrunk somewhat in size due to its rich saturation of Alliance ships.
When Hackett began to build bridges with the Empire, few believed in the Admiral's success. But the Empire willingly cooperated. Moreover, a company of Alliance marines had already returned after a several-week tour of the Helghast planet. And now the pictures of a grim Alliance sniper, thoughtfully knocking glaciation off the surface of his rifle, became a kind of "business card" illustrating the planet-stranger...
And so it was time for a return visit. The Helghan Empire, through its diplomat on the Citadel, received navigational data and star charts, then informed that the fleet would reach Earth on its own.
And the Alliance was expecting visitors.
The Alliance was waiting for a rented wreck barge from somewhere on the outskirts of Terminus or a few carrier ships from Citadel space.
Which would first jump to the nearest transponder and then approach the solar system on the SSD and be met by an Alliance fleet. An extensive, strong Alliance fleet...
At least, that was what Hackett, now on the captain's bridge of the dreadnought Mont Blanc, had expected. However, the reality hit the Admiral's expectations painfully...
- Attention! I'm detecting a burst of radioactive radiation! Vector 341... - The operator hesitated. - Sir, the flash is behind us!
- What? - Captain Price of the Montblanc, an old acquaintance of Hackett's and a veteran of the First Contact War clenched his right hand so that his knuckles turned white.
His left metal hand remained resting on the armrest of the chair.
- Attention, we have visual contact! Putting it on the screen!
- Which one? - Hackett swallowed a swear word. Price was not so restrained:
- Ah, you sly bastards!!!
What was shown on the screen resembled a cloud of stardust in the vacuum of space: glowing green dust.
After a while, however, the translucent cloud began to resemble a greenish-coloured soap bubble: THREE enormous bubbles through which clearly man-made silhouettes could be seen.
The toxic green flash knocked out the sensors briefly, but the ship's VI soon calibrated them back to normal.
The Empire's ships were suppressing...
Hacket identified two of them as "purely combat" - sharp, thin silhouettes with some "ribs" across the long hull and a sharp "head". On these "ribs" were several pairs of engines, which emitted a glowing dark greenish light, smoothly changing to blue.
And closer to the centre was a giant ring highly reminiscent of the Mass Repeater rings - and the core inside was also glowing the same greenish-blue colour.
- Holy shit... I beg your pardon, sir! - The operator was embarrassed. - According to preliminary analysis, the smaller ones were about a kilometre long.
The third ship was noticeably larger and gave the impression of a transport. Its hull was much more comprehensive than the satellites, and the engines looked even more considerable in appearance and the core.
- This big one is about two kilometres... Even bigger... sir... - the operator exhaled.
- I'm picking up a signal! - The girl officer ran her fingers over the keyboard. - Decoding according to the decryption protocol handed over to us earlier...
- Ships of the Imperial Navy salute their Alliance counterparts. The cruiser Zein, the Weitz and the carrier ship One request permission to enter the solar system. - V.I.'s message.
- They're mocking. - Hackett summed it up dryly. - Give them my return greetings...
***
Helghan. A few weeks ago.
Special Camp Vecta-01.
Interrogation room.
The grey concrete of the walls was covered in blood spatters.
Joshua Hite screamed, choking on his scream and staring at what had once been his knee. And looming over him, a figure with burning red eyes regarded its victim with interest...
- BITCH! YOU SICK BASTARD!!! A-A-A!!!!
- I wish to receive a different answer. - The SIS interrogator twirled the Udarnik in his hands.
"The Udarnik was produced in limited batches by the Stahl Corporation and was far from the company's favourite child. It wasn't that it was unreliable, expensive, or anything else: it was just that even in the Helghan Empire, it was embarrassing for a major company to admit that it made a torture device.
And the Udarnik was designed to do just that - a single-shot pistol, ten millimetres in calibre and firing various ammunition: cartridges of Agony, low velocity burst ammunition, rubber bullets...
One of the requirements was that even if a prisoner got hold of the weapon, he could not harm the guards.
And now the interrogator was successively testing three types of ammunition on the Vektan diplomat (or rather, the former Vektan diplomat): electric capsules, rubber bullets and burst bullets.
- I ask again: I wish to know where the information is leaking from our fleet? Admiral Orlok was an ambitious idiot, but he wasn't a traitor.
- Go to hell, red-eye!" Vektanian spat into his hated gas mask. - Look for it yourself! If it's still there! Aaaaaaaaah!!!!
CRACK!!!!
A heavy metal-toed boot kicked lightly against his shattered knee.
Intelligence organisations of all worlds and all times have their own very peculiar code. If there is no open armed conflict between two serious organisations - corporations or states - then the 'serious people' try not to overreact.
And if an alien agent is uncovered, he is more likely to become a source of disinformation for the enemy. However, after the Transference, all agreements were cancelled, and the new universe had too many potential adversaries. And Walter Karg had a real massacre on his hands...
Operation Purge later became a true legend for the SIS and no wonder.
It is not every day that grenades explode on the outskirts of Pyrrhus, and an SIS assault team takes out a gangster's den where one of Vekta's "fat" agents has settled down with a hospitable host.
And it's not every day that the commander of the Helghan Fleet suddenly dies, and several of his deputies disappear for a week.
Later, a couple of them returned to duty and even succeeded in the service - only both of them, when trying to start a conversation about this strange and mysterious service period, somehow abruptly turned pale and turned the topic...
***
Helghan, Pyrrhus.
District D-11, Resettlement Avenue, residential block square 13, block 2, flat 1.
Gunther drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the refrigerated cupboard. His stomach was pressing his host to take action, but the problem was that the host didn't know what choice to make.
"One-two-three-three-four-five,
A Helghast went out for a walk,
"He looked behind a rock,
There he saw a wasp..."
The children's story did not specify what happened to the hapless adventurer because the creatures called Helghan "wasps" and living near the planet's equator did not have stings. However, they compensated for this deficiency with acidic spits and powerful jaws. We should remember that the length from the toothy head to the graceful thin belly reached half a metre...
Despite the lack of information, the counting stick fulfilled its purpose and helped to choose today's dinner.
"Still, the meat is better!"
The square briquettes of synthetic meat had acquired a noticeably better taste after the Transfer - according to rumours, the aliens had shared with the Empire innovations not only in military technology but also in food chemistry. Gunther, however, didn't care about that.
When the giant Storm, a sign of the Transference, nearly blew his atmospheric scout to hell, the pilot mentally prepared to say hello to the Ancestors. But the Helghan steel held and the redundant propulsion system allowed his bird to manoeuvre through the dust and maintain a relatively stable altitude. The constant up-and-down jumps of a hundred metres didn't count....
Gunther was exhausted when the navigator swearing in three languages restored the navigation system. He landed the car on automatic and, for a long time afterwards, stood and smoked, holding a cigarette with shaky fingers, while the technicians unloaded the engine from the sand and dust clogged inside.
- Hmmm... It was all right, though. It's terrific! - The mushroom pate had changed somehow, too. It was not better, but the fact that the flavour had changed pleased the pilot.
The typical office flat of Lieutenant Güter Kant of the Helghan Space Force was unpretentious and was essentially one room, though divided by thin walls. For a long time, the military man had wanted to dismantle them and connect the conventional "living room" (aka bedroom, aka kitchen) and "pantry" (where there was a safe with personal weapons and a wardrobe with uniforms and a couple of civilian sets of clothes).
So, it would turn out to be one conventionally large room. But then the doors of the bathroom and the bathroom would stick out of the wall and would not be precisely what the military man dreamed of seeing when he woke up every morning...
These plans were already in the past, for in a week, Kant would pack his personal belongings into a standard shipping container and go on an extended business trip. And not just anywhere but on Earth.
The command called it "an exchange of experience with our unexpected ally, " and rumours began circulating among the pilots that they would go to Earth for fun and as a whole "flying zoo, " accompanied by two cruisers.
The information terminal didn't report anything interesting: some sort of squabbles on the outskirts (the anchor mentioned that the police had to use heavy weapons to break up a notably fortified brothel), the weather for tomorrow - quiet and flying, by Helghan standards, of course.
Gunther walked over to the terminal and, pulling out the control panel, typed "Citadel news" into the search.
The so-called Citadel provided an information channel for Helghan that would "allow for a gentler introduction to the planet's population to the new universe."
Based on the amount of content, which was clearly not complete, Kant was almost one hundred per cent certain that the channel was being filtered by the ISS, and quite crudely at that, but that didn't deter him.
"Empire is first and foremost about control and order!"
And while, like any sensible Helghast, Gunther did not deny the Empire's flaws and loud propaganda, the current order was far better than it had been ten years ago.
Who better to judge that than a native of the former Vecta City neighbourhood...?
***
Helghast.
Planetary orbit.
A shipyard.
A shipyard... Gigantic, frightening, capable of rivalling the size of the Citadel itself...
Of course, the Shipyard was much smaller than the political centre of the Galaxy - ten kilometres long versus forty-five - but the Citadel was built by someone unknown, while the Shipyard was the joint brainchild of the Stahl Corporation, the Visari Corporation and all the Helghast.
The news emphasised the latter - Skolar Vizari had personally ordered it, generously watering the sprouts of national pride from the beginning of his reign.
The first Hellgan Shipyards were a true legend. Built during the Platinum Era, they were three times the size of the current ones, yet fell to the Hellgan under fire from the Colonial Army. According to the official Earth version, it was an accident that caused many deaths - the megaton structure crumbled in the atmosphere and, like a monstrous buckshot, ploughed through the surface of the planet and the city of Pyrrhus, which already had a population of over fifty million.
The new shipyards were inferior in size to the old ones, but they did their job well. The Shipyards were based on asteroids that the then-weak space fleet, which had just been created after the lifting of the Siege, had managed to transport and orbit the planet.
After reaching a stable orbit, the asteroids were gradually recycled and docked together, leaving only a few memorable rectangular slabs, which the workers called "the foundations of the Shipyard". In some places, there are stone corridors nicknamed "space guts".
This gigantic industrial complex was both an assembly site, a laboratory, and a base for the most secret part of the Imperial Navy: landing and carrier ships.
When the first carrier ships began their journey in the form of sketches and rough drawings, there were many questions. The Navy insisted that such ships were unnecessary and insisted: "We need more cruisers!!!".
Colonel Radek - though he was still a major at the time - stood in the way of the barrage of criticism like a rock taking on the blows of the sea waves:
- The army needs air support, and ordinary field aerodromes will not do!
Although a major then, Radek had already established himself as an excellent military theorist. This quiet military man who stood discreetly behind Skolar Vizari's back, his security chief and a good friend of Jorgen Stahl, shaped the Imperial Army in many ways.
As a result, the Air and Space Forces now existed within the fleet but somewhat separately. In many ways, their existence was possible thanks to the Transfer of production of cruisers and small ships on the surface of the planet, at the disposal of the corporation "Stahl" - although the underground factories had to be thoroughly modernised, according to the Imperial Command, it was worth it.
Well, the space vacated at the Shipyard was used to good effect.
Specifically now on the place where there was an assembly dock, majestically located "flying zoo".
Of course, we are not talking about some kind of menagerie, but about the first carrier ship, "Perviy", whose name has not been traced only by a lazy person.
When it was first created, few people believed in the project - so the firstborn didn't even have a name, and in all documents, it was simply labelled as "TO 1" - "test sample 1". The sample went from "test" to "operational".
And when the question of the name came up, Colonel Radek defiantly ignored the suggestions of the naval officers. And named the ship purely utilitarian.
The now-deceased Admiral Orlok hated the colonel but could do nothing about it. Well, after the Admiral's tragic death and Admiral Wilhelm Weir's appointment to his post, the conflict between the army and the Navy came to nought.
Though with its problems.
Sometimes quite serious...
***
- What the hell are you, ****?! - Third Class Engineer Honak was spinning his eyes frantically and gave the impression of a man who was not quite adequate. At least that's what a bystander would say, but there were no bystanders aboard the First.
- This is standard equipment, and I'm trying to figure out the problem is....
- IS THAT IT'S FUCKING EXPLOSIVES!!! - Bellowed the technician.
Captain Ganze, protecting the property entrusted to his company, also took a raised tone:
- Of course, explosives! We're an assault unit. We're not without explosives!
- The hangar is mine. It's got fuel rods, ammunition and chemical vapour, and CXL-4 is unstable. It's not designed to be transported in space in ordinary crates. Only in hermetically sealed and inert gas boxes!
And that was right and proper. But because of transport overlaps, there were no hermetically sealed special boxes, and as a consequence, three boxes of engineering explosives were now spoiling the mood of the whole crew of the "First".
Well, and the "voice of the people" was that damn technician...
- Who says he's unstable?! - The captain tried to play on his ignorance and got a firm rebuff.
- My commanding officer is an enlisted man! I also started in "assaults", so I can tell enough stories about what happens if the explosives "inhale" fuel! - The fifty-year-old technician was advancing on the young captain, clenching his pudgy fists. The captain was thinking - could he go to the fight in self-defence, or not yet?
The captain's rank and senior engineer of the third class were approximately equal. And the Helghasts were worthy of each other in status, for Honak had undivided power in the third hangar.
"The First was a good ship, but there were many small mistakes made in its construction. Each one individually was not too serious, but together they were a real pain in the arse for the crew.
As a result, Captain Ganze's company had to spend three days to a week sleeping in ammunition crates next door to atmospheric planes - because there were only a few places for so many soldiers and equipment on the First.
The Empire was sending three ships to Earth on a friendly visit: the "First" itself and two cruisers. And the cruisers were also from the "first litter" - not the most powerful, not the newest. All sorts of "acquaintances in the headquarters" - the same ones that every soldier has and which, judging by all the stories and gossip, exceed the size of the entire army - said profoundly that the Empire sends the fleet on purpose to deceive the enemy.
They send reliable but old ships...
- Anyway, overboard! Into the rubbish hatch - and into the atmosphere, tightly packed beforehand! So it'll blow up far away from the Shipyard.
- And hoo-hoo not hoo-hoo? - The captain grinned. - I'm not your subordinate. I'm still within your rank. That's one. И...
- SILENCE.
The disputants suddenly realised that the hitherto standing around and jabbering technicians and soldiers were instantly silent and looking for something useful to do.
The reason for this behaviour was now standing behind them, crossing her arms over her chest and studying the technician and captain through the visor of her gas mask.
"Perhaps the 'staff acquaintances' aren't lying about everything..." - a thought ran through Ganze's mind.
Rumours that Radek was also going to Earth had been circulating earlier, but they had been dismissed: that the colonel had left Helghan? There is no such thing! However, the emperor has decided to send one of his confidants for a visit.
- You. - The mask of a simple gas mask stared at the technician. - There's a supply of inert gas on board, isn't there?
- Right... Ahem... That's right! - Honak distinctly choked up. His mind was filled with gruesome stories of the colonel punishing soldiers who had done wrong. They were rumours, of course - but there was truth in every rumour.
- Do you have thick metal barrels? With gaskets? Gas-tight? There must be a stockpile - the Navy likes everything gas-tight and airtight...
- That's right!
- How fortunate. - Was it just me, or did I hear a distinctive snort through the gas mask?
- Captain, I order you to take the barrels, put the explosives in them, fill them with inert gas and seal them with cold welding. Open them up and put them back in the crates when you arrive.
Is that clear?
- Yes, sir.
***
Radek sighed mentally.
Unfortunately, as some ancient philosophers said, being determines consciousness. The Helghast were good at teamwork: they were efficient and hard-working, and Radek sincerely thought his people deserved a far better fate than living on a cold, stony planet.
And the Transference allowed them to damn well achieve that!
When things go wrong, however, most Helghast continue to act on instructions, often on full automatic.
As Vizari's chief of security and one of the founders of the Military Academy, he recognised the perniciousness of such an approach and tried to reward those who were proactive and thoughtful. It had worked, but it had been slow to change.
And then there was the assignment from Karg... The colonel and the head of the SIS communicated quite well, and Walter was a good friend... He would have been - if he hadn't given stupid, illogical, absolutely non-military tasks!!!!
"STOP! Inhale... Exhale... I forgot - 'act outside the box'... So, we need to convince the Alliance to give us technology and zero element in exchange for empty promises..."
***
Now.
Earth, Alliance H.Q., TIR...
- Erm... Ma'am, excuse me! - The junior Lieutenant was funny to look at. The Helghast's grey skin flashed with white spots, replacing what appeared to be his people's blush.
"Golly, don't they have any women in the army at all? He looks at me like an unknown animal. He's going to be surprised: "Wow, you women can talk too?""
- It's okay, it happens.
- WHAT DO YOU MEAN, IT HAPPENS?! - The range superintendent, Sergeant Jones, shook the blown-up target menacingly. In principle, it was nothing new - except that the "tall silhouette" itself was destroyed and the mechanism of its lifting. Even more precisely - ripped out "from the root".
- What kind of weapon do you have? Who allowed you to use it?
- And who makes such flimsy targets? - Blurted out Helghast, who was getting fed up with the situation.
- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
- HALT! - Shepard's bellow made the two arguers shut up.
Honestly, it was the commander's fault. A test was a test, but she wanted to see what her new subordinate was capable of. Personally.
So first, they went to the barracks where the Helghast were housed, got a standard rifle (reminiscent of the Alliance "Hoe" to the extreme) and went to "air it out".
Although this complex was called a "shooting range", it was a full-fledged shooting range with decorations for practising combat at medium and close ranges.
Shepard and Helghast didn't have to do much: just follow the route and shoot the targets that popped up.
The problems began at once...
First of all, it turned out that the Helghast's weapon was a gunpowder weapon. Though the gunpowder is obviously not the same as it was once used on Earth and in the colonies...
Shepard already knew that, but "knowing" and "understanding" were slightly different. And it smokes and rattles as much as an Alliance infantry large calibre machine gun. Even the Imperial soldier's rifle calibre was the same as the Krupnach's: 12.7mm.
True, there the smoke was just hot air and coolant, whereas here, Shepard's nostrils were tickled by the sharp and slightly stifling odour of gunpowder.
"Though you have to admit - the smell is cool..."
Secondly - the junior Lieutenant's weapon was loaded with completely unconventional ammunition. Shepard gawked at the large "flowers" that blossomed where the bullets of her new subordinate had hit. And after the question "What IS THAT?" Rynycz said without the slightest embarrassment that THIS was standard ammunition for urban combat.
"Well, you know - so that when it hits the enemy, the bullet does not fly further. And that the enemy is guaranteed to die from painful shock even if slightly wounded. It's a great thing, isn't it?"
And thirdly, the muzzle energy of this ammunition clearly exceeded the energy of Shepard's Avenger ammunition.
Because when such a "rose" hit, the targets didn't just fall - they were blown out of their mounts.
Unfortunately, this was only noticed at the end of the course, so now the targets Rynych hit were a pitiful sight.
- Right, Sergeant! - Shepard frowned. - If anything, blame it on me. Tell them you tested our guests' weapons in combat.
- Yes, ma'am. - The sergeant grimaced. He was in a bad mood, of course... But not so bad that he couldn't celebrate the excellent result of the grey-skinned man's shooting.
- Erm... Ma'am, my salary should cover the damage if necessary....
- Don't worry, Red. But remember, Lieutenant - give advance warning of such things. - Jane fixed her fiery red curls, desperate to make them look at least somewhat serious and businesslike.
"Anderson's going to make another joke about the exploding barrel of napalm on his X.O.'s head..."
***
Helghast followed Jane quietly through the picturesque park that separated the TRR from the administrative buildings. She, in turn, was considering whether, if anything, she could handle the recoil of Helghast's rifle.
- Shit... What's that thing called? - Jane nodded at the rifle the Helghast was carrying behind his back.
- 'StA - 47 Silok, ma'am.
- Shepard.
- What?
- Don't "ma'am" me. Just Shepherd.
- That's right, Shepherd.
Jane mentally cursed.
- Hey, what were you doing back there?
- Well, I'm with the Planetary Defence Force. And I'm one of the few with combat experience. - Helghast glanced thoughtfully at the bird that flew past.
- Oh, and against whom?
- Bandits, smugglers, and other criminals. - Jane could clearly hear the disgust in the Helghast's voice. - 'But the worst enemies my unit has fought are Hellgan spiders.
- "Hellgan spiders"? Reminds me of the name of some rock band. - Shepard snorted. - Is that a band?
- What? No!" Lynycz put his hand out before him and ran his fingers over it. - 'Spiders. Hellgan's. They were attacking a village far from the capital, and our company was sent there ...
- Stop! What? Jane asked in shock. The commander stood stunned. Do you have spiders attacking villages?
- HELLGAN spiders. - Rynycz was pedantic. - The size of a giant - VERY BIG - dog, travelling in groups of ten or fifteen, significantly jumping and aggressive...
- Creepy. - Jane shrugged slightly. It wasn't that she was afraid of spiders, but... It was just unpleasant.
- And they spit threads of web ten metres away from the ambush, and through these threads, they electrocute so that they can kill a grown man. - Finished Rynycz.
- Twice creepy. - Shepard summed it up. - But sorry - not the wealthiest resume. You don't have many officers with extensive combat experience.
- What can I do? - Helghast shrugged. - I hear you have a severe problem with pirates - and our army is primarily focused on the planet's defence and fighting them and smugglers.
We're a very peaceful planet, even though we're an Empire...
- What's it like, anyway?
- What?
- Living in the Empire? - Catching the amazed look in the red eyes, Shepard explained:
- Well, everything on your planet depends essentially on the will of one man. Aren't you scared?
- Hmmm... No. It's Skolar Vizari! - The Helghast replied, absolutely unwavering.