Five Empires: An Epic Space Opera Read online

  Planning his workshop routine, Michael swam in between several large, bulbous buildings rising from the lake bottom. This part of the lake formed a wide, shallow, inlet and was the perfect spot for an underground settlement.

  Michael aimed for one of the tall hab blocks behind the lovely, flower-shaped ballet house. The Aegisi were such a lithe and athletic species they had developed their own native expressionist ballet style called Verve. Michael could often hear music wafting through to his humble hab cube.

  The forager drifted through the spires, taking a moment to wave to a few of his neighbors. The hab blocks were nothing fancy but living underwater carried a modicum of prestige among the Aegisi. Michael shared his cube with Emilia. His parents, both of them clerks at the Public Library, had saved all their lives for the purchase. The sacrifice made Michael slightly uneasy but he couldn’t deny it was great to live in this old, traditional part of Senafal.

  Government House, home of the Aegisi Round Table, was just a ten minute swim away. Michael had never been inside but considered it an honor to live so close to the Aegisi seat of power.

  Grabbing hold of the cube hatch, Michael keyed in his security code and leaned back to avoid the inevitable cloud of bubbles from inside. He hauled himself into a dark passage and smiled when he saw the glow of a coral lamp. Emilia was home and was hopefully cooking dinner. Michael stepped through the hab membrane and paused while his body adjusted to air once again.

  4

  The hab consisted of three simple rooms. There were two small bedrooms and a larger living room. It wasn’t pretty but it was home. Emilia had a knack for making the most of a tiny space. No small task considering Michael had insisted on a functional workshop in one corner.

  Luckily the ventilation system was very good - Michael often had cause to produce noxious toxins while he was smithing.

  Emilia was frying kippers over the plasma stove. Michael’s mouth watered - he hadn’t eaten since that protein bar in the early morning. Emilia looked over her shoulder, her expression a mixture of irritation and relief.

  “See you got your prize,” she said in a neutral tone. Michael grinned. Now that her anger had mostly dissipated, she would be difficult to read. It occurred to Michael that she would make an excellent diplomat. She knew Foundation, the common galactic language, inside out. She also knew a few off-world alien dialects. Language simply came naturally to his sister. Like Michael, Emilia was totally wasted in the Foraging Unit.

  Right now Emilia’s light brown hair was slightly frizzed as it always was after a day’s work in the water. She turned to face him, arms folded across her chest. Michael had always been told that she was pretty, so he tended to take peoples’ word for it. All he saw was the big sister who looked out for him even though he was a headstrong pain in the ass.

  Letting his kelp slab thud to the floor, Michael checked his own look in a wall mirror.

  The Aegisi were humanoid bipeds and were capable of similar facial expressions to humans. They were generally taller and thinner than the average human, with thin limbs and elongated heads. Their skin was pale blue and mostly hairless. Aegisi men exhibited some hair on their backs whilst the women usually had fine scalp hair.

  Unlike their Yeneri ancestors, the Aegisi didn’t have webbed appendages but that didn’t inhibit their swimming ability. They had flatter fingers and toes than humans, and instead of bone they had cartilage in their extremities.

  The Aegisi eyeball came in only one color - navy blue. Michael frowned at his reflection, wondering when he’d started looking so old. He was powerfully built for an Aegisi, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. All his puppy fat had gone over the past year. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d just fired a gun at another man, but his face looked harder, bleaker. The soft humor of his eyes had faded somewhere along the line.

  “I think you’ve done it this time, Mikey,” Emilia said, using her pet name for him. “The kelpers contacted Farif. He’s really pissed.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s the least of my concerns right now,” Michael muttered, dragging the kelp sheet over to the workshop. “Sorry about the smell. I’ll be done soon.”

  “At least have something to eat first,” Emilia urged, placing two bowls of steaming hot danphis-pho on the dining table. Michael grinned in agreement, sitting opposite his sister. Shallots, spring onions, powdered fowl stock, a drop or two of truffle oil, steamed karst cabbage, salt, pepper. Michael savored every mouthful as he recounted his escape from Coller’s farm. Emilia was relaxed enough to laugh at certain places, shaking her head in wonder at Michael’s boyish bravado. She did, however, frown at the use of the plasma rifle.

  “I think you’re pushing too hard, Mikey,” she said. “You’re not a teenager anymore. This is an adult world and it could come crashing down on you.”

  Michael flashed his best defiant grin and took the bowls over to the wash bay.

  “I’ll deal with these later,” he promised. “First, I want to show you something.”

  Emilia stood dutifully against the table as Michael prepped his gear. First he inserted the transparent disc that contained his armor blueprint into the contour printer. Then he inspected the mineral cells while the armor press heated up. It was here, in a sheet of honeycombed cells, where Michael had perfected a mix of minerals and natural polymers. These agents would help strengthen the final product, but they still needed a binding agent. That’s where the kelp sheet came in.

  Michael arranged his hard-won prize under the guillotine and cut away the ragged edges. Then he placed the sheet under the advanced press. The mold had already been designed and was ready to go. When the diagnostic light glowed yellow, Michael exchanged a nervous glance with Emilia and lowered the press. A hiss of steam and a rank, unidentifiable smell filled the small hab. Michael fussed about the armor press as he waited for the cast to be made.

  His heart crammed into his mouth, he watched as the armor press glowed green.

  Michael lifted it slowly, almost dreading what he would find in there. The kelp was the key ingredient. Rubbery yet tactile, porous yet incredibly strong, Solitude’s freshwater kelp had the potential to contribute to a distinctive battle armor for Aegisi corsairs.

  Michael lowered his eyes and inspected the culmination of two years’ hard work and preparation. The piece he had just created was a breastplate. Normally with so much infused kelp the color would have been bottle green, but Michael had added industrial dyes to ensure that the finished product was glorious Aegisi cobalt blue. Everything - the minerals, the polymers, the binding agent - had come together beautifully. Michael breathed out in pure, sweet relief.

  “This, dear sister,” he said in quiet reverence, “is the key to successful Aegisi expansion.”

  Emilia’s smile faded and she turned away. “You know I don’t like it when you talk like that,” she said.

  Michael rolled his eyes. Emilia had never bought into his patriotic fervor. She was happy that he had something he was passionate about, but certainly didn’t share his political outlook. Emilia fitted more in line with traditional Aegisi thinking - careful, moderate, conscientious. Michael was sure that all that had a place, but the wider, pan-galactic landscape was changing. It was dangerous out there. More dangerous than it had ever been before. He was merely ensuring that he was at the forefront of that.

  “Aegis armor,” he said proudly. He lifted the breastplate and almost swooned at how light and tactile it actually was. The material was incredibly hard and yet so malleable. It could breathe, it could be worn without loss of agility, it could deflect a flush blaster shot. That last point was the crucial factor and what he hoped would give him an edge in his pitch to the Aegisi Round Table. The Aegisi military would be vulnerable on any neutral field of battle if they weren’t wearing something like this.

  “Glad to see you’ve chosen a humble name for it,” Emilia said dryly. “Seriously Mikey, despite your questionable activities earlier I’m inclined to be proud of you.”

>   Michael wrapped his sister in a warm hug, secretly thrilled that he could dangle the ultra-light breastplate from his index finger.

  A low chime emanated from Emilia’s wrist pad. Michael could feel her arm move as she scanned it. She pulled away sharply, wide-eyed.

  “You won’t believe this, but I’ve been summoned to the Round Table.”

  Michael blinked. “For real? Not in trouble I hope.”

  Emilia grimaced theatrically. “That’s your job. There’s no obvious reason. I applied for a government job a year ago, but figured I didn’t progress.”

  Silence settled between the siblings as they absorbed the new development.

  “You’d better go,” Michael said thoughtfully. “But you might need an escort. It’s getting dark out there.”

  Emilia looked at her brother warily. “Oh no,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “That ain’t gonna happen.”

  “Think about it,” Michael enthused. “Do you really think I’ll get a better opportunity?”

  Emilia looked away, grudgingly agreeing that he wouldn’t.

  “I promise I’ll keep quiet until they’ve finished with you,” Michael pressed. “You won’t even know I’m there.”

  “Somehow I don’t think that’ll happen,” Emilia said doubtfully, but her smile said it all - as always, she was going to look out for her little brother.

  “I’m leaving now,” she warned. “And I’m not the type to keep the Round Table waiting.”

  The freshwater precinct of Senafal was busier than usual. There was the usual traffic of swimmers going about their business - hitting the gym, meeting friends for dinner, coming home from work. But there was also a steady stream of government traffic in cobalt blue personnel carriers. The amphibious units trailed huge bubbles as they whizzed to and from the surface of the lake.

  Emilia led the way, stroking powerfully toward the elegantly lit Government House facade. The building was a sprawling masterpiece of rippling wings and graceful arches. The estate was flood-lit in Aegisi blue, lending the building a shimmering, mirage-like quality.

  The Danner siblings cruised through a cavernous entrance hall, marveling at the new art installation called “Towers of Prometheus”. Columns of colored water grasped for the high ceiling in defiance of the natural laws of physics.

  Emilia dragged a gawkish Michael down to the reception desk.

  she said calmly into her wrist pad, waiting as the clerk consulted his own unit.

  he said smoothly.

  Michael’s breastplate, held protectively against his chest, attracted no more than a passing glance.

  The siblings swam through a central corridor and passed through the membrane as gracefully as they could. On foot now, they followed a red holographic line near the floor that blinked with the caption EMILIA DANNER. The pair passed through three security posts before being guided to a heavy oak door. Emilia threw one last glance at Michael before they were ushered in.

  The Aegisi Round Table was actually long and rectangular. The room itself was nothing spectacular. It was a simply a place where Aegisi leaders could debate the issues of the day in comfort and privacy. The only hint of officialdom was the Aegisi coat of arms on the far wall. A lake surrounded by mountains in varying shades of blue.

  The long table was almost completely occupied. Twelve esteemed members of the Aegisi Round Table. Michael felt nerves clutch at his stomach as he allowed himself to be seated next to Emilia. None of the Councilors questioned his presence. He set the breastplate down on the floor.

  5

  Councilor Follah grinned ruefully.

  “I told you we couldn’t get one without the other,” the wizened old woman said. To the siblings: “Welcome, Emilia and Michael.”

  “Pleasure, Councilor,” Emilia breathed. Michael could only nod like an imbecile.

  “We apologize for the short notice,” Follah continued. “A situation has arisen and we may need your help, Emilia.”

  Such a direct proposition didn’t seem appropriate given the forum. But then, as Michael took a moment to assess the Councilors, he noticed signs of fatigue and strenuous debate. He wondered if it had anything to do with the increased transport activity outside in the lake.

  “Of course,” Emilia said, showing no sign of nerves. Michael had always admired her for being so cool under pressure. He was also unfazed by adversity, but his method of coping was a little more action-oriented.

  Councilor Follah, whom the siblings knew from her numerous appearances on news feeds, glanced at several other Councilors whom Michael didn’t know.

  “This is Councilor Achand,” Follah said, gesturing to an upright man with hard eyes. “He will brief you on our current position.”

  Achand cleared his throat and activated a table projection. The galaxy sprouted from a central point. The Quavar system was shrouded in cobalt blue to represent Aegisi territory. Solitude could be seen drifting before the doomed white star that gave the system its name.

  Beyond the star hulked an enormous black hole. Michael and Emilia had heard all the legends about huge space battles taking place in the face of that neutron star, but there was no way of verifying them. The Aegisi chose to confine their explorations to their home planet Solitude.

  Elsewhere, the table projection mapped out the territories held by the other powerful races of the galaxy. An emerald green sphere enclosed the mysterious, mostly unexplored Ivista sector, where the Nostroma had settled on Ajon Prime.

  A violet curtain enclosed the vast technocracy of the Cava05, stretching from the Ayert system all the way to the Torjon system. On the far side of the galaxy a red orb enclosed the Jaj empire, a small but powerful principality centered on the home planet of Fange.

  Finally, a hazy white cloud hovered above the star-spangled mass like a strange dream. Michael presumed that represented the ‘Milkmen’, a little-known species believed to have been dormant for several centuries.

  “Our neighborhood,” Achand said simply. “A vast tract of space the Aegis have acknowledged in the past but never truly embraced.”

  “Our closest neighbors are the Nostroma,” Follah continued. “Of late they’ve been willing to negotiate a more… fruitful relationship with us. As you probably know, the Cava05 are aggressively expansionist but show no sign of hostility towards the Aegisi. Yet.”

  Michael suspected that political forces were working against the Aegisi. Follah’s expression was worn and weary. Michael got the distinct impression that the usual Aegisi tactic of reasoned diplomacy had failed more often than this Round Table would care to admit.

  “The Jaj have been embroiled in domestic affairs for a long time now,” Achand said. “For the moment, Cavan05 expansion continues unchecked.”

  The violet section of the galaxy did seem larger than Michael might have expected. Colonizing planets required a heavy deployment of materials and personnel. It was widely believed that only the Cava05 and the Jaj had the resources to blaze a trail across the galaxy in this manner.

  “Think of all the resources falling into their hands,” Michael found himself saying aloud. Emilia looked slightly panicked but to Michael’s relief several Councilors nodded their heads.

  “Indeed,” said a hunchbacked man. “In our endeavors to make Solitude our home, the Aegisi have lagged far behind in the race for habitable planets.”

  Councilor Follah cleared her throat. “What Councilor Henschal alludes to is our entrenched policy of domestic development. Our intimate knowledge of Solitude’s unique terrain, combined with the strength of our home Navy, renders us nearly invulnerable to any invading force.”

  Councilor Achand sniffed. “If only war would deliver itself neatly to our doorstep,” he said coldly. “The Aegisi Round Table has debated this issue to an… intricate… level of detail. The finer points are of no concern to our young guests.”

  The stern Councilor seemed to appraise the Danner s
iblings. Michael thought he spotted a flicker of contempt when the imposing man turned a flinty gaze his way.

  “The Round Table is resolved to overhaul our foreign policy,” Achand said. “However impregnable Solitude may appear, any Republic consisting of a single home planet is vulnerable on many levels.”

  “We seek to rectify this,” chimed in Councilor Henschal. The way Achand deferred to the older man without comment spoke volumes of the power hierarchy around the table.

  “We need to expand,” Henschal continued. “We need a second power base.”

  Emilia looked on uncertainly but Michael nodded. The benefits of such an acquisition were obvious. Two targets for an invasion force was infinitely more daunting than one. There was also the possibility of raw materials and fresh food supplies. It really was the only logical step for the Aegisi Republic to take.

  “Which brings us to the matter at hand this night,” Achand said soberly. Michael glanced over at Emilia and wished he could hold her hand.

  “Emilia, the Round Table has scrutinized your records,” Councilor Follah began. “Your Instruction scores are very good. We understand you and your brother were aligned to the Foraging stream at an early age. Our allocation system isn’t perfect. Unfortunately, your exquisite linguistics skills were overlooked.”

  Emilia seemed to sink back into her chair. To be praised so highly in front of the Round Table must’ve been a surreal experience.

  “I enjoy foraging, Councilor,” she managed to say.

  “I don’t doubt that, and your record is exemplary,” Follah said. “But the Republic has need of a skilled diplomat.”

  All eyes were trained on Emilia as she clasped her hands together.

  “Anything you need, naturally,” she said, looking flustered for the first time.