Dreadnought (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 2) by B. V. Larson Page B

been expecting to see a cargo hold. Instead, we landed on a large deck in the midst of a dozen spacecraft. There were shuttles, repair ships and several tugs. I assumed it was a small support fleet.
    “These ships are damaged,” Zye noted. It was the first time she’d spoken since we’d launched.
    “How’s that possible?” Grantholm demanded. “Sparhawk hasn’t taken a shot at them yet.”
    “You’re right,” I said to Zye, ignoring the ambassador. “They are all damaged… That indicates this station has recently been in combat—but with whom?”
    “Maybe they’re paranoid for a reason,” Zye suggested.
    Together, we left the ship and stood waiting near its landing gear. A group of armored troops approached with rifles in their hands. We made no hostile moves.
    “Captain Sparhawk?” inquired the lieutenant in charge.
    “I’m Captain Sparhawk.”
    “Accompany me, sir.”
    We followed the guards, who closed ranks around us. They took our side arms, but left me my sword, assuming it was ceremonial in function.
    Zye eyed them with distrust, but she gave up her pistol sullenly. The troops around us kept casting sidelong glances at her. They clearly found her worrisome.
    The colonists weren’t very tall people. They were all shorter than Zye and myself. Maybe they found our size intimidating, it was difficult to say.
    We were ushered into a chamber deep within the station. The more levels we traversed inward, the more people seemed to join the party. I was impressed by their numbers, and by the apparent level of interest they had in us.
    At last, we were marched into a sweeping chamber of unsurpassed beauty. The walls—they didn’t look like walls. They were holographic projections, they had to be.
    An apparent landscape of lush beauty and sunlight rolled in a curving arc for kilometers around. From our point of view, it looked like we were at the bottom of a bowl, with fields, trees and even gently rolling hills crawling upward in every direction around us.
    The guards smiled at our reactions. Even Zye seemed taken aback.
    “A false interior?” Zye asked. “An encapsulated atmosphere of such volume… this is an engineering marvel.”
    “Don’t be daft, girl,” Lady Grantholm said. “It’s nothing but an illusion. Those walls are screens. They’re probably less than a hundred meters off.”
    Frowning, I stopped to pluck a sunflower from a path strewn with white pebbles. I tilted my head up, until I looked directly overhead.
    There, above us all, sat a bulbous contraption, much of which was shrouded in steam. It seemed to emit brilliant light from some angles and… was it possible?
    Silvery rain fell. Droplets were falling from it, sheeting down toward us. As I watched, the rain came to sweep over us and sprinkle us with light droplets.
    I turned to the captain of the Guard, enchanted. “I can’t believe it,” I told him. “This is marvelous. That’s the core up there, isn’t it? The core of the entire station. It’s raining on us, and other spots are shining bright light as if you’ve captured your own personal sun.”
    “Yes, exactly,” he said.
    I couldn’t help but note the pride in his voice.
    “This is real?” demanded Lady Grantholm suddenly. “What a gross display of wealth—I like it. Powered by the sun outside, shining upon those countless solar collectors… yes, and don’t think that I’ve missed the brilliance of this move diplomatically. How better to begin a negotiation than to impress your opponents so utterly?”
    The guardsmen looked bemused.
    “Truly marvelous,” I said. “Is that what you’ve brought us here to see? To show us your engineering capabilities?”
    “No, not exactly,” the captain admitted. “But we are thoughtful people. Determined, yes. Harsh, some would say. But we firmly believe the final moments of any being should be spent peacefully.”
    Frowning in concern, I took stock of the situation. We’d stopped marching. We were, indeed, at