Beyond Light

Progressing Ahead Base.

“ETA for Progressing Ahead Base in 30 minutes,” the INN Aurora In Orbit transport ship's pilot announced.

The eighth day of May 8th finally arrived, and President O’Donnell and his admirals had woken up earlier than usual to begin their travel to their so-expected conflict resolutions assembly. Fleet Admiral Emmerson Hopkins looked particularly eager to arrive, but his square and pink face irradiated the same anger about to explode as ever.

They were in the President’s private bar of the ship, but they weren’t there to drink or spend forced fraternizing time. They needed to think carefully about what they were going to say and how to approach the situation.

The current leaders of the PFSR were infamously known for losing their tempers easily, and with someone like Hopkins or Suzuya in the same room as them, the discussion could aggravate into a fully-fledged word-quarrel that would require the intervention of the security guards

“Be ready once we're there,” said President O’Donnell. “Admiral Hopkins, please speak only when given permission, and leave most of the talk to me. Jiang and Turgenev got offended when I talked with them one week ago and I told them about those ships. It’s going to get tense,” he took a sip from his old-fashioned whiskey glass.

Admiral Hopkins squeezed his lips and drank from his ice water. “If we aren’t direct and firm with them then they are going to take advantage of that. We are not in any disposition to agree to their terms, president, and you know it.”

“Don’t even say anything,” Admiral Weigh shook his head and looked through the window to outer space. “I think this is a mistake. We aren’t going to solve anything and only get things to be tenser. But you do you.”

“You might be right, Admiral Weigh,” said President O’Donnell. “but keep in mind that we can’t discard the possibility of the PFSR being responsible over the attack on the Eternity of Return. I’ve shown the recordings to various experts, and they all agree in some part with Admiral Hopkins. The assembly of those ships resembles the ones of various of their vessels.”

“I heard Doctor Weiber is going to be there,” commented Admiral William Frost.

“Yes,” the President responded. “I invited him to come. Doctor Weiber will help bring facts in our favor. Besides, he is a civilian. He comes off as someone without any agenda in all of this.”

“No offense, mister president,” said Royal Admiral Rin Suzuya. “but the man was the project lead behind Ad-Infinitum, which the ISI and your administration heavily supervised. They will only think we’re manipulating him.”

“Facts are facts, Admiral Suzuya,” President O’Donnell served himself more whiskey and crossed his legs. “I am pretty sure they will have their own scientists with them. The doctor will bring the undeniable that not even them can deny. Besides, I hope that his participation will be limited. I only invited him for his advice, not to come and make the arguing for us,”

"So," continued William. "are we here really to discuss the disappearance of our ship, or to play the political game of pull and push the rope?"

President O'Donnell sipped from his old-fashioned glass. “Don’t make any wrong ideas. I’ve discussed this with the guys on the Independent Service of Intelligence. We don’t want any conflict. Yet. It’s not convenient. We are here to make sure they didn’t attempt anything against us on Vita Nova and didn’t get ahead with their patent of EPAL. Besides, they need some pressure. The PFSR has been acting too aggressively according to the Yamamoto-Chernov treaty. We need to remind them that they can’t do whatever they want.”

William felt like some kind of cheap marionette. He just hoped that the political interests of the president or Admiral Hopkins wouldn’t deviate from their original intention. It was obvious that the PFSR administration also had its own agenda, but if they wanted to be more blatant about it, then they would not have chosen neutral territory like the asteroid belt. If you want to talk to me, come to my house. I’m not going to that park.

The voice of the pilot sounded through the speakers. “We are right now descending on Ceres’ designated landing zone 04. Entering pressuring field. Please wait until descend.”

Everyone looked at the window; the grey cratered terrains of the dwarf planet became visible, with various black towers distributed far from each other. William recognized them; they were Energy Dome Generators (EDG), which created a false atmosphere and magnetic field around the Progressing Ahead base.

Ceres had a mass and density too low to hold an atmosphere, making terraforming difficult and unprofitable. To make the place semi-habitable, the EDG technology was used as a softer solution for living conditions. It was used as well on other objects of low mass.

It couldn’t engulf the entire planetoid, but it offered protection from the lethal solar radiation and air to breathe. Thermodynamic generators adjusted the temperature to optimal conditions, although it was not recommendable to stay under the artificial atmosphere for long periods.

The metallic floor softly bounced, the disinfection web washed everyone with sterilizing radiation, and the ship's hatchway door unlocked itself. Steam fumed, and the admirals and the president stepped on the cererian ground. Ahuna Mons, a four kilometers tall cryovolcano —the icon of Ceres— rose in the distance, right behind the prismatic figure of the neutral base.

William saw two PFSR’s ships already on the other side of the landing zone, some 400 meters ahead. They were an intimidating design, yet one rather clunky if one had any knowledge about space aeronautics.

Missile bays and ionized cannons covered a rectangular body that extended to a smaller stern of short wings and a single propulsor. The bow of the ships had an elongated circular sector shape, giving it an aerodynamic design more suited for In-Atmosphere Flights. Various vessels from both factions orbited above as well.

They transversed the paved road to the base, PFSR soldiers and ISI agents patrolled around. The President of the INSU was on the planetoid, after all. Their presence was obligatory to guarantee his safety.

The Progressing Ahead Base looked more like an observatory site. Blue and circular panels covered the short and wide structure, giving it the look of a small lab. Most of the facility was built underground.

A series of agents received them at the entrance. They were guided in the elevator down to the meeting hall, where many disputes and other subjects got solved between both the PFSR and the INSU when the physical presence of their members was necessary. The guards opened the pressurized door to the hall some 250 meters underground when they arrived.

The room was a cylindrical construction divided into three equally sized sections. The one in front of the entrance was the main stage, which was at the same level as the rest of the room. A round table and the seats and for the main figures of both factions were in the middle, as well as various projectors on the wall.

The other two sections were conformed by rows of cherry and dark blue seats capable of holding 40 people. The dark grey walls gave the place a warm and mildly-lit theme.

On the left side, more than 15 figures of the INSU stood on their seats. William recognized some of them as various generals of the army, as well the ministers of internal security, external affairs, space and ground defense, and the civilian Doctor Davis Weiber.

The PFSR’s positions on the right side were mildly desolate, besides some seven generals and admirals sitting on the front seats, with other 10 figures behind that William didn’t recognize. Security agents with M1 pistols and sunglasses stood still on the walls.

The old, blonde figure of president Ivan Turgenev and the overweight Cheng Jiang was already sitting on the seats on the stage, wearing expressions as serious as the security drones observing from the vault above.

Everyone was uncomfortably silent, and only the two leaders of the PFSR dared to look in the eyes at President O’Donnell as he reached for his place. The four admirals sat on the front seats right behind him. The clock above the stage marked the date on Ceres time: one minute before the assembly commenced.

“President Ivan Turgenev, President Cheng Jiang,” President O’Donnell stretched his hand at both as he sat. “thanks for attending this reunion. I hope we can reach an optimal agreement through cooperation.”

He made strong eye contact as both of the men gripped his hand. They tried to stare harder with their arrogant and cold eyes.