“I’m afraid we aren’t the ones in charge of guarding Fïac Lartnér,” he said, feeling weird every time he used that title. “We aren’t bodyguards. At the end of the day, we’re here to defend the facilities of the Count’s House.”
“I understand that. But as long as Fïac Lartnér is with Lonh-Dreur, is it not the duty of the Count’s House to safeguard Her Highness?”
“I guess that’s true.”
“In that case...”
Samson wondered how long this unproductive conversation would last, but at the same time, he was enjoying wrestling with this irrationality. It was a lifesaver on this otherwise boring voyage. There was also the fact that Sehrnye’s speech sounded rather like some fanciful background music — her Baronh had a lyrical, melodic accent to it. Her mother tongue must have been rich in intonation.
Sasmon would’ve liked to see whether the background music Sehrnye was providing him went well with his drink, but alas, his wristgear chose that time to beep.
“Sorry, just a sec,” he said, tasting both relief and disappointment. “This is Samson speaking.”
“Flotilla Lessee,” came the voice of the Drociac Borr (Flotilla Communications Officer). “A conveyance ship is approaching.”
It was an oft-heard notification. While the volume of traffic was low, this was the only major space route in the Ileesh Monarchy.
“Do we know what it belongs to?”
“To the raid ship Flicaubh of Trample-Blitz Squadron 1, sir. It seems they’re currently engaged in the task of advanced coordination.”
“Raid ship? Trample-Blitz Squadron 1? When’d they come out with those?”
“I don’t know either, sir. All we know is the squadron it belongs to. The conveyance ship will merge with this ship’s space-time in ninety-two minutes, so we’ll learn more then...”
“Looking forward to it.” Samson dropped the call. Now I can make her go away. “Did you hear that? It appears a mighty Star Forces armada is headed towards the Countdom of Hyde, shrouded though it is in clouds of darkness. We’re just a collective of engineers. We’d be hard-pressed to be the heroes of some adventure story. As long as the Empire’s on the job, then there’s no place for us to intervene.”
“Yes, of course,” she bowed, frowning for some reason. “Sorry for intruding. Please, don’t let me put a hamper on your little drinking party.”
After she left, Samson put the question to Paveryua. “Did I offend her somehow?”
“Inspector Supervisor,” he said icily, (despite drinking more himself). “Whenever you say stuff you don’t mean, your acting is always so overblown. You could stand to take it down a notch — or at least, drop all the mighty modifiers.”
“They’re here,” said Lafier.
“And right on time, huh,” said Jint, staring at the video of the outside. No need to squint; the Baucbiruch just so happened to plunge into 3-space head-on from their perspective.
The two were on an intrastellar ship borrowed from the House of Vorlash. Dereuzz had tried to give them a steerer as well, but Lafier had shot the suggestion down. She would equip the control gauntlet herself.
As for why they were going out of their way to go meet the Baucbiruch, they wanted to see its damage status for themselves, and as soon as they could. They’d heard from the conveyance ship that had returned a little while earlier that the damage was minimal, but nonetheless, they couldn’t help feeling worried.
Lafier steered near the Baucbiruch; focusing on her frocragh, she closed her eyes and made several rounds around it. “Where did it get hit? I can’t tell,” she said.
“Well, if you don’t know, then I definitely don’t.” He was looking at the interstellar ship through the video of the outside, but spotted no sign of damage by fire anywhere on it.
Yet the fact remained it had been shot at. And that fact was nothing to scoff at.
“Oh well. We’re going in.” Lafier pulled up communications with the bridge of the Baucbiruch.
Yestesh came to greet them on the arrival deck. Hurriedly, they exchanged the formal salutations, and then the two stepped aboard a personal transporter headed for the conference room.
“The attack was so feeble as to leave something to be desired,” said Yestesh. “No harm was done to our navigation capabilities, and we managed to enact all repairs on our own.”
“Did you do the repairs while in planar space?” asked Jint.
“No. We did them while in orbit over the landworld of Martinh.”
“Why did you have to do that? Wasn’t it dangerous?” Is this Abh sarcasm? he wondered.
“Needless to say, we paid due attention to remaining safe. We slightly raised our orbital altitude.”
“But if there was no impediment to the ship’s navigation, then...”
Yestesh gave Jint a puzzled look. Lafier, too, stared at him searchingly.
“Did I, uh, say something dumb, or...?” he asked the Royal Princess.
Lafier let out a little sigh. “Don’t you see? If they’d entered the portal as soon as they got shot, it would appear as though they were fleeing.”
“Sure, it might be misconstrued as such, but...” Jint was confused. He’d thought the Abh wouldn’t hesitate to circumvent avoidable adversity. “I know the Star Forces aren’t afraid to retreat. Plus, this ship’s almost unarmed.”
“We retreat when we absolutely have to,” said Lafier. “If there isn’t any impediment to navigation after sustaining a surprise attack, there isn’t any need to flee, either.”
“But you don’t know that for sure, do you? It could’ve just been a warning of more to come. There’s no telling if a full-scale assault is coming for you later.”
“You are correct. I simply made a judgment call,” said Yestesh.
“What judgment did you make?”
“I figured that if we retreated after taking such a small attack, we might be giving the enemy a false indication. And if they underestimate us, then the situation might deteriorate.”
“What do you mean...?”
“I know you understand the Star Forces’ maxims of conduct, Lonh-Dreur. You are a member of our armed forces, after all, and have aided us in battle. If the mistaken notion that the Star Forces flee at the meagerest provocation takes root, what consequences do you think will result?”
Jint understood what Yestesh
