((OOC: If you'd like to send representatives to the coronation, the signup thread is here. It's also available for questions, if there's anything you want to know.
I'm starting things the morning of the day before the actual coronation ceremony, but arrival times can be fluid.))
Zergin system; 1 day before the coronation ceremony
In the outer reaches of the system, a ship drifted smoothly through a hole in space. Roughly 50 meters in length, it was an old Morningstar-class destroyer – bought as salvage, repaired, modified extensively, and given the name Victory by its current owners. Inside its control center, the crew set about fine-tuning their current location.
“Zergin, right on target.” Belten Grantara remarked from the sensor station. The WX-45 ignored the control panel, simply plugging himself into a data port to interface with the Victory’s computer system directly. “Haven’t been through here in a while, but even without all the nav beacons there’d be no mistaking that view. Lucky jump; I thought we’d need another one to get here.”
Captain Barän Varth leaned back in the command chair, designed to accommodate his 1.93-meter frame and massive build, and closed his eyes. The command station’s psionic interface was a recent upgrade, which he was still getting used to, but tapping directly into the ship’s sensors certainly gave him an incredible view. They’d come out near Manderek, second of the system’s three gas giants, and just beyond the outer asteroid belt. The asteroids were thicker than last time he had been in the Zergin system – still not as dense as the inner belt, but enough of a change to show it was still being reinforced. Varth knew that countless drones drifted amidst the rock and ice, along with the disguised stations that controlled them, but the Victory’s passive sensors picked up few traces of them from this distance. The navigation beacons, on the other hand, were unmissable. Flashing lights made them obvious from a considerable distance while their radio transmissions highlighted the safe routes through the belt. Beyond the asteroids, the broad rings of Tethryl were clearly visible. Barän increased the magnification on the ship’s left forward sensor node and was starting to locate some of the larger asteroid in the first belt when Kayla spoke up from the navigation/communication console.
“A lucky jump indeed. We’ve got enough distance for one more portal before we reach the planet, but we’re close enough to get decent precision. Should shave a few hours off our flight time.”
“In that case, I won’t call the probe in. It’s got plenty of energy left for another run. Ready when you are.” The drone control specialist, Tômas kel Vonoth, hadn’t bothered to open his eyes. As the team’s chief armorer and gadgeteer, he was more accustomed than most of them to relying on a psionic interface.
Barän Varth glanced around the crowded control center, confirming that everyone was ready at their stations. “Right then. Kayla, take us into the inner system. Keep a little leeway; we’ve certainly got time on the schedule, and we don’t want traffic control getting grumpy.”
Even for a short jump in a thoroughly mapped system, they stuck exactly to procedure. First, Kayla set the portal drive to establish a link and prepare for a new portal. She eased open a tiny pinprick while the ship’s sensors scanned for traces of gas, radiation, or any other indication that the portal led anywhere other than open, empty space. Next, she widened the opening just enough for Tômas to send the probe through it. Finally, once the little scout drone reported that there were no objects anywhere in the vicinity of the portal, Kayla brought it to full size and Barän took the Victory across. As the portal snapped shut behind them and Tômas recollected his probe, Barän sent out a transmission.
-“Attention, traffic control. This is the Victory, registered to Varth Security Solutions. Do you have us on screen?”-
The response came a moment later.
-“Victory, this is Kendari-2, currently handling traffic. We’ve got you on sensors and have confirmed your registration. Stand by for medical scan.”-
Monitors flashed at every station in the control center as the Victory’s detectors picked up a surge of psionic energy, but it wasn’t directed toward the minds of the crew. The Guardian battlestation’s psi scanner was checking for the signature of known contagions and other such biohazards. It was a quick process; almost immediately, the psi alert faded and another transmission came in.
-“Looks like you’re clean, Victory. What can we do for you?”-
-“We’re here to take care of some business on Kendari and then enjoy the coronation festival. Can we get a landing site for a Morningstar destroyer?”-
-“Space is tight in Esantir right now, with much of the spaceport reserved for official traffic. Would a slot in Dalenvir work for your business?”-
Barän glanced at a map on his secondary viewscreen, highlighting a small city around 50 km from the edge of Esantir.
-“Dalenvir will work just fine. Thank you, Kendari-2.”-
-“I’m sending you coordinates and a flight plan. Enjoy the festival, Victory. Traffic Control out.”-
Even after the final jump, the Victory had plenty of time to look around on the way in, and there was plenty to see as they drew closer to the planet. Aside from Kendari’s normal traffic, and other visitors coming for the coronation, the Kendaryn navy had brought in every ship that could be spared to ensure the system’s security during this high-profile occasion – and provide a show of force for any of the foreign guests who might have problematic long-term intentions toward the kingdom. The reinforced Zergin Defense Fleet was arrayed above Kendari’s orbit; below it, the ranks of Fleet Stiletto gleamed – the unit traditionally commanded by Doomweaver, the ancient (but constantly upgraded) super-dreadnought regarded as the pride of the Kendaryn navy. The Victory had come out of its last jump a little high, closer to the ZDF, and Barän tapped into his ship’s passive sensors again to examine the force. The flagship caught his attention; he directed its image to the control center’s main viewscreen.
“Hm. Take a look at this one.”
Tômas opened his eyes. “Ah, the Scepter of Zergin. First of the new Staff-class heavy battleships, dedicated to the fleet command and heavy fire support roles. It’s an interesting design.”
The Scepter of Zergin was about three kilometers long, with massive, faceted caps at the front and back, a blocky citadel in the middle, and a narrower stem connecting these segments. The endcaps stretched over 600 meters across their widest point, big enough to support four Type V turrets – the largest guns built in Kendari, generally used for battleship spinal mounts. Until the design of the Staff, only Doomweaver and the Guardian battlestations had carried turrets big enough for these weapons. The stem sections, built with a diamond cross section, were under three fifths this size – just 360 meters from point to point.
“I hear Princess Anjha lead the design team.” Kayla observed. The slender, grey-haired nertar rarely mentioned the source of her rumors, even to the team, but they tended to be reliable.
“So! Our queen-to-be isn’t afraid to try something new, hey?” Tajak Demrol laughed. He was sitting at the weapons station – not because they expected to be shooting at anything, but because they didn’t, and he had won the draw for the unused seat in the control room. “The Traditionalists must be spitting gravel!”
Tômas sat up straight and thumped the arm of his chair. “Good riddance! If the Traditionalists had their way, drones would still be limited to system defense. The navy would be relying on Daggers for screen and strike-flights; never mind that an interceptor drone built for dogfighting can manage acceleration that would kill a human pilot. Or that Darts have been proven as our most effective heavy strike weapon in every major battle since their introduction. Or that turreted gunships are far more reliable in the defensive screen role. Not to mention their idea of a proper army! No power armor, no-”
“No need to convince us!” Barän broke in. “You see me trying to get a Dagger launch bay installed here? Or going out to fight in my pajamas? Let’s forget the Traditionalists and get back to the Staff. Looks like it has… what, 60 Type IVs in the broadside? Must be almost as much firepower as a Pike, even though that core is hardly bigger than a Lance.”
“Well, skipping all those fighter launch bays does free up some space!” Tômas grinned, appeased.
“Hold on a minute, those Type Vs are double-barreled?” Barän zoomed in on one of the turrets in question, currently armed with a pair of Narvok cannons.
“Yeah, I heard a bit about that!” Tômas waved a hand airily, his standard gesture when expounding instead of ranting. “They put together several recent advances to make it possible. A new technique for setting runic circuitry reduces the volume needed for the spatial overlay mount; a more efficient power transfer node allows…”
“Save the details for later. Could we use it on the Victory’s turrets?”
Tômas shrugged. “I’ll have to do some more research on it, but I don’t see any reason we couldn’t at least expand a few of them. I was already planning to look into the possibility next time I have a chance to do some digging. We might have to install slightly bigger turrets, but the Morningstar has some extra room around the upper Tier IIs and a good chunk of the broadside. It’ll cost us, though. Belten and I can make most of the changes we need, but we don’t have the tools for that new runic circuitry.”
Barän grinned. “If it will upgrade our punch by a good 50%, we can scrape together the money.”
“Damn right.” Tajak agreed cheerfully. “The navy clearly feels the same way, at least for the Staff line. And no wonder! With those double-barreled turrets, it must come close to Doomweaver’s broadside.”
“Not a chance!” Belten put in. “Take a look down there. They must’ve figured out how to stuff four barrels in during the latest refit.”
“Four?! Really?” Barän located Doomweaver and placed its image on the main viewscreen. The 3.6-km ship had a simpler, more conventional design: a diamond cross section, straight for most of its length, but angled to a point in front and tapering to the main drive’s octagonal casing in the rear. But its sturdy hull, almost a kilometer across at its widest, supported six Type V turrets on each of its four sides. And all of them did indeed have four barrels.
“Larger turrets.” Tômas explained. “When Doomweaver was first designed, the mounts needed even more room. They probably could’ve stuck double barrels in them centuries ago, but nobody considered it until the latest advances came out while they were designing the Staff. I’d bet a few of the oldest Guardians will be refit with quad-turrets, too.”
Now that he was looking below, Barän continued surveying Fleet Stiletto. It had a pair of 3.5-km Pikes, Kendari’s most powerful battleship line before the design of the Staff. A dozen Halberds, their first heavy battleship above a kilometer in length. Several formations of nimble 400-meter Broadswords with their heavy forward armament and 800-meter Longswords with their vast banks of light turrets. An extensive screen of smaller vessels. But one model stood out in its absence.
“No Lances?”
“Check over by Arferdal.” Kayla replied. “Rumor has it the Lance class is being dedicated purely to support and transport for ground forces as part of the Army’s reorganization. Their speed is supposed to get the shooters where they’re needed faster than a Pike or a flotilla of frigates could manage it.”
“Ah yes, there do appear to be some fairly large ships in orbit. Could well be Lances.”
From their current position, Arferdal was on almost the same line as Zergin’s gate complex. Barän took a moment to watch the stream of ships flowing from the three massive gate stations. There were clearly visitors for the coronation among the crowd; the pair of Guardians that watched over the gates and served as their traffic control must be even busier than usual. But the Victory was almost in place for its own approach to Kendari, so Barän shifted his attention to the planet.
The flight plan would have to be followed closely. Along with other ships coming in or heading out, Kendari’s orbit bore eight Guardians instead of the six protecting most core worlds. It had a belt of shied drones, ready to bring up a siege shield at a moment’s notice, and drone control stations ready to deploy more of them in times of trouble. Further out, several large port stations offered docking platforms for ships that didn’t care to visit the surface of Kendari. But below all this gleaming metal, the planet itself presented a very different picture. The kingdom had always been careful to treat its namesake world with a delicate touch. All three of Kendari’s major continents remained heavily forested, with elevated roads and railways tracing a faint network between the scattered cities and small towns. Layered, multipurpose farmland blended smoothly with open wilderness. To a casual examination, most of the planet looked virtually uninhabited. It was a cool world, with extensive ice caps at both poles, and Esantir was located just far enough north to avoid the worst of the tropical storms.
Dalenvir was a small city, northeast of Esantir, with its outline broken up by bands of parkland and forest gardens. Several small spaceports surrounded it, providing for the portion of Esantir’s overflow traffic that made a sizable chunk of Dalenvir’s economy. Barän located their assigned landing slot, a simple 60 m by 30 m rectangle of durasteel and synthetic stone, and brought the Victory neatly down in its center. Within reach of the ground, the ship hovered quietly on its lower repulsor beams while deploying its landing legs. A moment later it settled gently to the ground, powered down its drive systems, and lowered its access ramp. They had arrived.
Esantir
Meanwhile, at Esantir’s second-largest spaceport, another ship was arriving. This was no weapon-studded destroyer; instead of turrets, countless glittering emeralds traced out intricate curves across the gleaming space yacht’s hull. It was the state ship used by the highest government officials of the Tolvas system, one of the most prosperous sites in the Kendaryn border zone. It was also expected, and a large skimmer decorated in the midnight blue and gold of the Royal Guard waited at the landing site.
The passengers disembarked as soon as the access ramp settled into place, followed by a single servant hauling their luggage on a small cart. All were tolans, the native intelligent species of Tolmad – a humanoid race in the broadest sense, with a vertically oriented body, two legs, two arms, a head at the top, and remarkably human-like hands. But their narrow, long-limbed frames reflected the somewhat lower gravity of their home world, and their enormous compound eyes and fringe of short, branching antennae had little resemblance to a human face. They wore the intricately embroidered short tunics that were Tolmad’s standard semiformal garb. First came Izelek Tith-Kren Vadralia, the mauve-skinned High Overseer of Tolmad and Anat. With shorter, more muscular legs than a male tolan, she stood only 1.98 meters tall. Her husband, Okarad Tith-Kren Mikandu, strolled beside her a half-step back. His electric blue antennae stood out vividly against his dark magenta skin, made even more obvious by his height of 2.2 meters. Next was Aneren Dom Kesteno, the 2.15-meter head of Tolmadren Energy Blades – the core of the Tolvas system’s arms industry. He had supplemented the embroidery of his tunic with a necklace of vivid turquoise stones, almost perfectly matching his antennae. The final guest was Edalam Vesh Nadiala, her smooth steps showing the grace that helped make her the current champion of the Tolvas system’s grand swordplay tournament. The blademaster had light purple skin and the wiry muscles of a tolan who grew up in Anat’s heavier gravity.
A tall, bronze-skinned man with blue streaks in his shoulder-length black hair stepped forward to greet them. He wore a traditional Kendaryn formal robe in the copper-trimmed midnight blue of the kingdom government, with the white embroidery of a high-level employee on its sleeves; someone well versed in Kendaryn formalwear would recognize him as a senior diplomat by his flat-topped, narrow-brimmed hat and the details of the trim on his robe. While he bowed, a servant began loading the delegation’s luggage into the skimmer.
“Welcome to Kendari, your excellencies. I will take you to the palace and answer any questions you might have along the way.”
The Tolvasrens kept the conversation casual during the trip. The skimmer glided swiftly and quietly on the faint yellow glow of repulsor beams, taking only a few minutes to reach the Royal Palace. The delegation had seen images of the palace, but this didn’t quite prepare them for experiencing the sight in person. It looked like something out of a fairytale, a graceful structure composed mainly of white stone and silvery metal, fading into the morning mist. Slender towers soared above gleaming walls. A broad moat sparkled around the outer wall, crossed by a lightly curved bridge of the same white stone. A few ancient trees towered nearby. But for all its elegance, this was a serious fortress. Every approach was guarded by battlesteel bunkers; various decorative elements helped them blend into the storybook surroundings, but did little to hide the energy cannons in their turrets. When the group emerged from the skimmer and walked into the main gatehouse, they saw additional turrets built into the ceiling and heard the faint hum of battleship-grade shield generators waiting on standby somewhere close. A psi scanner built into the outer gate checked everyone who passed for biological hazards. Several Royal Guards were on duty at the inner gate, wearing midnight blue power armor with extensive gold trim.
Their greeter moved ahead, announcing them to the guards. “These are guests from Tolvas. High Overseer Izelek Tith-Kren Vadralia and her consort. Aneren Dom Kesteno, of Tolmadren Energy Blades. Blademaster Edalam Vesh Nadiala.”
“Welcome to the Royal Palace, your excellencies.” The senior guard took a step forward and bowed lightly. “You’re right on schedule. Do you have any weapons to declare?”
“Just our blades.” Izelek replied. “And another one, in here.” She held out a finely inlaid wooden box, the delegation’s coronation gift.
Another guard, a WX model with sensitive tech scanners built into its head, looked the group over and nodded in confirmation. The first stepped back with another bow and gestured grandly toward the inner gateway. “If you’d prefer not to carry that around, we have a storage area set up where you can check in gifts until you are ready to present them.”
Overseer Izelek shook her head with a smile, gestures she had learned while studying at one of the universities on Korvial. “Thank you, but it is small and light. We will keep the package with our luggage until the time comes to make a formal presentation.
More people waited beyond the gatehouse, and the diplomat gestured for one of them to come forward – a young woman wearing billowy trousers and a short robe in the intense blue and gold of the Delerän family, with the white-banded sleeves of a servant. “Ah. Miss Kalynta will be assigned to you during your stay here.”
The servant handed Izelek a small communicator. “This button will reach me at any time, so you can easily call me if you need something. You requested a three-bedroom suite, size nine, correct? I can show you there immediately. And once you’ve settled in, perhaps you would like a tour of the public sections of the palace?”
Izelek gave a slow nod. “Thank you. That sounds perfect.”
