A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [170]
“Shizz, this is worse than getting our butts kicked at Jupiter!” The EDF woman’s voice sounded familiar. Zhett thought she recognized Tasia Tamblyn, the woman who had warned the shipyards about the oncoming EDF battlegroup.
General Lanyan’s voice cracked with stress and horror. “I’m sounding a retreat. All squadrons, fall back to your parent ships. All command officers, get your ships the hell out of Osquivel by any means possible.”
“By damn, I never thought I’d hear an Eddie say that,” said Del Kellum.
“Do you blame him?”
“Not in the least.” He shook his head. “Not in the least. What a disaster!”
On the screens, the exchange of fire continued. Many EDF ships began to scatter and move out, pulling away from the ringed planet, limping, crawling. The hydrogues destroyed five more vessels as Zhett watched.
“Damage assessments. I want casualty reports as soon as you get clear,” Lanyan’s voice continued. “Just get out of there!”
“What if the drogues come after us?” one man’s voice asked, sounding thin and terrified. “What if they keep coming? There’s no way—”
“Haul ass and quit whining,” someone else chided.
Zhett and Del Kellum continued to watch the unfolding debacle. The smoldering hulks sizzled and flamed.
“I’ll tell you one thing, my sweet,” her father said. “I had my doubts before, but not anymore. By the Guiding Star, there is no way I will ever attempt to skymine again.”
88
ESTARRA
With so many people crowded around in a bustle of conversation and a flurry of fabrics, Estarra felt as if she were having a private party inside her chambers. But it was just a gathering for royal protocol ministers and social functionaries. Today was the day to display her new wedding dress.
She backed against a plush chair, unable to find a quiet spot amidst so many people. In a little more than two months, she would join King Peter in the royal chambers as his wife—but for now, Estarra had her own luxurious suite of lavish rooms, oversize closets, foaming tubs, even a private greenhouse.
Royal tailors proudly displayed their work, showing off the extraordinary gown and explaining the subtle symbolism Estarra was sure no one would ever notice. Weeks before, the tailors had taken a complete, and embarrassingly thorough, three-dimensional body scan so they could construct a holographic model and test various dress designs before fabricating them.
For the wedding, Estarra would be the center of attention. She was neither vain nor disappointed with her appearance, but she was intimidated by the fact that they wanted to transform her into the most beautiful woman in the Spiral Arm. Only a few years ago, she’d been a carefree tomboy on Theroc, climbing trees and running through the forest.
Now, striving to project a queenly demeanor, Estarra turned to the eager tailors. “It’s the most incredible dress I’ve ever seen. I shall attempt to do its beauty justice.”
“Your grace will only enhance the dress,” said the lead tailor, preening from her compliment.
“You see, dear, we have taken great care to use the perfect mixture of fabrics,” said another tailor, lifting the sleeve of the fabulous gown. “We decorated a traditional white dress of Earth satin with these beautifully colored greens made of Theron cocoon-fiber weaves. The pearls are from the reef mines on Rhejak.” He held up other corners of the flowing dress. “This lace was hand-stitched by eight of the finest crafters on Usk. The design along the hem is one of the proprietary patterns developed on Ramah. In all, we have found some way to represent every one of the Hansa colony worlds.”
“Theroc is an independent world,” Estarra pointed out, “not a Hansa colony.”
“And yet they honored you by recognizing our heritage when they created this exquisite gown. Don’t split hairs, Estarra.” Sarein frowned at her sister and ran a hand over the fabrics of the dress as if she secretly wanted to wear it herself. Estarra knew her sister was