April 1, 2403
In one of the absurdities of the universe, Garret returned to Halcyon to fight and die over a decade after he had sworn to his father he would rather die than ever come back home. Old bastard probably finds it amusing, Garret thought, assuming he even knows his son has signed on with this band of mercs. The tight confines of the cockpit cradled his two meter tall frame in way that had become familiar rather than uncomfortable. His dark face, under his flight helmet, split with a snarl at the irony.
“Two minutes!” Garret called out over his command net. His hands went over the familiar controls of his Hammer-class gunship. The bulky, brutal craft was slow, awkward, and designed with a principle of brute force.
That brute force was something he appreciated as he watched the countdown. The Garris Major System belonged to the Colonial Republic and would have Colonial Republic ships to secure it. However, the oligarchy which controlled most of the system was in the pockets of Nova Corporation, which was chartered out of the Centauri Confederation. Nova Corp would have mercenaries and quite possibly Centauri Confederation warships to secure their interests.
Halcyon Colony was one of their holdings. They wouldn't want to give the planet up, especially not after their xenoarcheological discovery. Pottery shards they didn't care for, but intact alien technology was something that Nova Corp would fight to keep... and they wouldn't hesitate to have their mercenaries and bribed naval elements smash the incursion into their territory.
As if someone like Nova Corp really deserves anything on Halcyon, Garret thought darkly. Political refugees from Old Earth's North America had founded Halcyon Colony illegally, over decades of clandestine work and smuggled people and equipment. The cloudy blue world had little to recommend it for a colony world with limited mineral wealth and only one rocky, mountainous landmass... which was why Amalgamated Worlds had disregarded it, originally. Their colony had stayed under the radar until Amalgamated Worlds had fallen... and the Colonial Republic's paramilitary forces had encouraged them to join under the Garris Major Unification. The trinary system had four inhabited worlds, with the largest populations on Eldorado and Santa Cruz in orbit around the star Astero. The planet Infierno served as a penal colony during the revolution against Amalgamated Worlds and later for Presidente Salazar's political opponents, its star, Estrella, was relatively close to Astero. The presence of Halcyon had been hidden by the extreme distance of Menor from the other two stars, a trip that could take days or weeks depending on the drives of the ships involved. That isolation had at first proven a barrier against much involvement from the ruler of Santa Cruz.
But things change, Garret thought darkly, the old man brought this, all because he couldn't leave things well enough alone. Garret shook his head and tried to clear his mind. The past didn't matter, not right now. He had to keep his mind focused on the important issues. He glanced at his display, “Thirty seconds,” he said.
His squadron shouldn't need the reminder. Garret heard Heller's music cut off in the jump seat behind him. He restrained a sigh as the woman spoke, “We have updated sensor feed, no?” It just wasn't fair that she had such a sexy voice, he thought, and with that German accent, no less. Not that he minded, it just was somewhat hard to concentrate sometimes. Especially since he had been strapped in his jump seat for the past thirty hours of their trip through shadow space with no one else to talk with. Even so, he welcomed the conversation. His normally shaved-bare head had a layer of stubble, as did his jaw, and he itched with stale sweat and a grunge that only came from being trapped in a flight suit for over a day.
“No update, yet,” Garret said. The rebels on Halcyon hadn't wanted to risk seizing their ansible station until after the battle kicked off in orbit. That was an understandable caution, he knew. Nova Corp wouldn't hesitate to nuke it from orbit and the Colonial Republic ships would probably take giving away their positions to an inbound force rather poorly as well. Still, the rebels said they had a couple merchant ships in place with sensor data ready to upload upon their arrival.
That would have to do. The War Dog's forces would arrive at long range. Ideally, they would catch the Colonial Republic ships powered down or even at dock with Halcyon's lunar Heinlein Base, which meant they could demand their surrender or even seize them before the ships would have a chance to take off. Whatever security Nova Corp had, however, was a different matter entirely.
On that cue, the gray nothingness of shadow space vanished, replaced by the star-studded wonder of normal space. Granted, Garret could only see it through his displays, but the familiar stars of his homeworld almost brought tears to his eyes. The targeting data that almost immediately appeared on his screens might have had something to do with that, though.
“Azure Squadron, detach,” Garret called out. He listened to the acknowledgments even as he watched their icons form up around him and the icons of the other ships in their force shift to the attack. As usual, he saw that Hugh's Hammer was slightly out of position. “Hugh, adjust your vector by three seven four.”
“Roger, Commander,” Hugh said. “I swear they need to recalibrate my sensors again.” His drawl, was, as usual, totally relaxed. Whatever the reason for being off, he adjusted course and fell into formation properly... which let Garret focus on the enemy as the sensor feed from the rebels populated.
Well, that's a bit worse than we expected, Garret thought. The rebels had plotted the course of what looked like a pair of destroyers, probably the Nova Corp mercenaries they expected. There was also a trio of cruisers and a battlecruiser, however. Even worse was the fourth enemy ship, what looked like a Helot-class carrier. That's definitely not supposed to be there, he thought, what the hell does Nova Corp have a beast like that out here for? The Helot could carry an entire wing of fighters directly into battle, protected behind heavy armor and its defense screens.
“Azure squadron, target priority is updated,” Commodore Pierce said. “Let the big ships fight it out, take down their auxiliaries, understood?” As always, the mercenary commander sounded gruff, irritated, and a little bored. There was a running joke among the War Dogs that the day Commodore Pierce sounded surprised would be the day they threw in the towel.
“Azure, roger,” Garret acknowledged. The Warwagon was old, a dreadnought built before Amalgamated Worlds had risen to power, back when Earth nations still existed and had star ships of their own. While it was heavily refitted, it would be at a very marked disadvantage against the Centauri battlecruiser and trio of cruisers. They would have superior maneuvers and acceleration and their weapons were far more up to date.
Still, it wasn't his place to argue strategy with the Commodore, especially not in the middle of a battle. “Squadron, form on me.” He uploaded their targeting priorities even as he monitored the rest of the battle. Assault shuttles from the Warwagon descended towards Heinlein Base on Halcyon's moon. The base was originally built as a civilian transhipment facility. The Colonial Republic had repurposed it as their garrison above the fractious Halcyon Colony when Garret was still a boy. The assault shuttles were in a race, Garret knew. They had to get in before the base defenses went online. Against a hardened and skilled opponent, it would have been suicidal. Against the standard Colonial Republic conscripts, it was merely risky.
Garret brought his Hammer up in line with his squadron's targets. The two Centauri built destroyers had clearly been modified, their emissions spiked higher than standard Enforcer-class destroyers, anyway. Garret's targeting reticule began to flash as he lined his craft up with the first target. The Hammer was a gunboat, a light craft built around it's mass driver. The mass driver was rightfully a weapon for a destroyer or cruiser, it fired a heavy projectile at near-relativistic speeds. A destroyer might mount a battery of four or more, while each of the six gunboats in Garret's squadron mounted one. The problem was, they had to line up their vessels on the target to engage, they couldn't mount them in turrets like a real warship.
“Fire on my mark,” Garret said, as his reticule chirped to show that they had acquired the target. His display showed the squadron similarly aligned. Under normal circumstances, at thirty thousand kilometers, their mass drivers would be horribly inaccurate, even the slightest movement by their target would give it more than enough separation between the standard tungsten shelled, depleted uranium core rods that a mass driver fired.
“Fire,” Garret snapped. Azure squadron fired. The gunboat only carried five rounds and as each one fired it slammed Garret forward in his harness in a reminder of why they were called Hammers. “Adjust targeting data,” Garret said as his squadron's indicators went black on ammunition for their main guns.
He started to key over his own targets even as he monitored their fire. The two destroyers they had targeted had brought up their engines from standby and their defense screens were flickering into place. They also began to maneuver, which would have made them safe against the standard munitions. The rounds fired by Azure Squadron, however, were upgraded with some of the latest technology available from Tannis. Maneuvering thrusters on the rounds kicked in and the compact booster drives mounted on them burned briefly to correct their course, guided in by the laser designators mounted on each Hammer.
Someone in the squadron gave a whoop as the lead destroyer received a dozen impacts. The warship shattered, ripped apart as the high velocity rounds punched through the defense screens and then ripped through the destroyers light armor. The impacts vaporized huge sections of it's hull. It simply came apart in an explosion of debris.
The second destroyer had a few seconds more to begin evasive maneuvers before the first rounds guided in. It managed to generate a miss for the first few rounds, until it took a glancing blow to the starboard engines. The next hit must have punched through it's engine room, possibly even its reactor, because the destroyer vanished in a fireball as its power plant erupted.
“Command, Azure Actual, targets down, we are black on primary ammo, new orders?” Garret asked. His gaze went to the developing battle as the enemy capital ships closed with the Warwagon. They had launched their fighters and his sensors showed areas to avoid as the old dreadnought filled the space around it with interceptor fire. Going to be one hell of a mess to clean up no matter how this ends, Garret thought. That was the downside of projectile weapons, bombs, and missiles. Energy weapons diffused, eventually, the others just caused additional navigational hazards.
“Azure Squadron, standby,” Commodore Pierce said gruffly. “Attention Centauri Confederation ships, this is Commodore Frank Pierce of the Halcyon Defense Fleet.” Garret rolled his eyes at that. They were mercenaries, it seemed silly to hide under a title that meant nothing. “We have declared our independence from the Colonial Republic. We have no desire to fight you and should you stand down, you will be allowed to withdraw.”
The voice that responded held all of the familiar arrogance of the Centauri military. “That's a grandiose proclamation. Regardless of what your transponders say, you have attacked, unprovoked, ships and property belonging to Nova Corp, which is made up of Centauri Confederation citizens. That requires retaliation... and your pathetic antique is not going to stop four top-of-the-line warships from exacting that retribution.” The Centauri Commander's harsh accent added that special touch of totalitarian arrogance to his statement, Garret decided. Maybe I should give him a character reference to work with my father, he thought dryly.
“Perhaps not,” Commodore Pierce said, his gruff voice calm. “But we have no grudge with the Centauri Confederation or its citizens... and I have to wonder how much loyalty you have in corporate interests.” Garret watched the Warwagon close with the Centauri ships. On his screens he could see that the Helot had withdrawn out of the immediate fight. Garret chewed on his lip at the bluff from the Commodore. They couldn't take on the four ships, not without some serious advantages. He knew why they'd targeted Nova Corp's goons first. Hitting corporate security mercenaries was one thing, taking on Centauri Confederation warships was another. But it looked like they would have to do that anyway at this point and Garret would have rather punched a cruiser than a couple of destroyers in that case.
“Azure Squadron, form up in screen position delta along vector seven three,” Captain Gizmon said softly over their encrypted net. Garret relayed the command even as he tried to figure out what the plan was. That screening position would allow the gunboats to provide interceptor fire for any missiles fired from the enemy ships. But getting there meant they would have to swing wide of the fighters currently engaged with the Warwagon.
It must be as a response to the carrier, which began to spew forth fighters at an alarming rate. The sensors relay from the Warwagon painted them as Harassers, the Nova Roma combat fighter. Those were tough, powerful craft, Garret knew. He had a single brush against the Nova Roma Fleet once, before he joined up with the War Dogs. He and the other few survivors from that mercenary company had learned a solid lesson on the capabilities of Harassers.
Still, Harassers weren't nearly as tough as the Hammers of his squadron and the extended missile racks that Azure squadron carried would thin their numbers as they closed. His squadron formed up and swept around into position, even as he watched the enemy attack wave form up on his sensors.
“This is your last warning, friend,” Commodore Pierce said. “Power down your ships or we'll use whatever force necessary.” Garret shook his head at that. They were seriously outgunned. Still, clearly the Commodore thought they had some kind of edge, else they would have disengaged. They were mercenaries and there was no profit in suicide.
Garret's eyes narrowed as he noticed the enemy carrier had launched what looked like assault shuttles. Why would they need to launch those, he wondered, it's not like they'd want to board the Warwagon. The ancient dreadnought was probably worth more to the Centauri as scrap than as a warship. Besides, they would have to knock a ship completely out of action to use boarding shuttles with any chance of success. Even a few functional turrets could shred those craft.
Garret spared a glance at the civilian traffic. Most of it had cleared out, all but a pair of civilian transports caught in between the two closing forces. Either they assumed that by staying powered down they'd be unnoticed or they simply hadn't had time to bring up their engines. Either way, Garret would hate to be in their position. As he thought that, the Centauri formation swept past the two ships. A moment later, they both detonated. At first, Garret assumed that the Centauri had fired on them or that they'd just been unlucky enough to take a random hit. But that didn't make sense, Garret knew. They had detonated simultaneously and the huge spike of radiation from them both suggested something else altogether. The intense burst blinded his sensors for a long moment as Heller cursed her way through a reboot process. As his sensors went live again, it took Garret a while to figure out what they showed.
The four Centauri Confederation ships drifted without even emergency power. The assault shuttles from the carrier dove in among them and Garret zoomed in his gun camera to see the shuttles slam home into the warships. Must have been some kind of device, high yield radiation burst, he thought, something that knocked the engines out or maybe caused some kind of electromagnetic interference.
“Commodore Pierce, so wonderful of the War Dogs to join us,” a woman's voice said. “It is always a pleasure to work with such a consummate professional.” Her voice was almost as sultry as Heller, but held an edge of arrogance that managed to set Garret's teeth on edge.
“Admiral Mannetti,” Commodore Pierce said calmly. “Thank you for the assistance. I assume our employers approved of your tactic... though it would have been nice for you to warn us. Half my forward sensors are still down.”
“We had to maintain the element of surprise, darling,” Admiral Mannetti answered. “Don't worry, it shouldn't cause any lasting harm to your ships, just requires a reset at your range. Our friends, however, will be unable to bring their power systems online for several hours. My boarding crews will secure all four vessels before then.” Garret blanched as he remembered where he'd heard that name. She was some kind of rogue Nova Roma officer, more pirate than mercenary. Clearly she'd worked out some kind of deal with Halcyon... which made Garret's lips twist in disgust. Hadn't they learned how dangerous it was to bring in unscrupulous types from what happened with Nova Corp?
Yet, as his gaze finally slipped over to stare at the clouded blue sky of his homeworld, some part of him understood, at least, why they'd done it. Even so, he wondered how far they were willing to go... and just how dangerous their new allies were.
***
Eldorado, Garris Major System
Colonial Republic
May 3rd, 2403
Lauren Kelly stepped down off the loading ramp and took a deep breath of fresh air. She coughed it out almost immediately as the acrid fumes of the spaceport cut into the back of her throat. Her companion continued down the ramp. His long, panther-like stride took him to where a customs agent waited. Lauren watched the two speak briefly. She didn’t see when Mason slipped the agent a bribe, but a moment later the other man left. “How much did that cost us?” She asked.
Mason turned. “More than I'd like. I guess there's some kind of revolution going on in the system. We aren't carrying a prohibited cargo, but I didn’t want him looking at our navigation computer and wondering what we have to do with what’s going on in Faraday.”
“Do you think they’ve heard anything here yet?” Lauren asked. She wasn't terribly surprised about some kind of revolt here. More than half the systems in the Colonial Republic had insurrections or uprisings. Most of those were from fractured ethnic or political lines, though some were ostensibly about freedom.
“About your Baron Lucius?” Mason smirked, even as his eyes swept the dingy landing pad for eavesdroppers. “Probably about his defeat of the Chxor at Faraday. Definitely rumors about the Dreyfus Fleet.” He stepped forward and took her duffel off her shoulder. He spoke the next part in a low tone, “Hopefully they’ve heard nothing about Mason McGann’s involvement.”
Lauren nodded, oddly relieved that she, at least, had no personal infamy to worry about She had possessed somewhat of a reputation back at Faraday for her actions during a mutiny aboard a Chxor ship and later during a ground attack against a planetary defense base. Neither of those put her remotely near as juicy a subject of discussion as a former pirate turned smuggler who’d once run with Tommy King. Even that must be easier than actually being Tommy King.
“Let’s go, I’ve locked down the ship, and there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Mason said. Lauren smiled slightly, glad to see the eagerness in his face. His expression had looked so hard in the aftermath of the battle against the Chxor.
“Who’s this, I thought you didn’t have any friends?” Lauren asked.
He led the way through a doorway and then out into the crowded streets. “I don’t,” Mason said, over his shoulder. “He’s more like a teacher.” Something in his voice suggested that their relationship was more friendship than he would like to admit.
The industrial smell of the spaceport blended with the stench of unwashed bodies and the faint reek of an open sewer. Lauren fought back a memory of her childhood raised under Chxor occupation. She clenched her fists and blinked away sudden tears.
She continued to follow Mason, though her enjoyment of being on a new world had vanished with the memories of the one she’d been born to. She absently wondered if she would ever kill enough Chxor to make her feel better about her childhood. No... not ever, she thought, not even if I could kill them all at once. She’d become so caught up in her own thoughts that she nearly ran into Mason’s back when he stopped suddenly.
The first thing she noticed was the sudden tensing of his shoulders. “Mason?”
He slowly set her duffel down, “Wait here.”
He stepped forward and she saw his hands brush his prayer beads. A moment later, those same hands came to rest on his holstered pistols.
Lauren sidestepped into a nearby doorway and her hand fell to her own pistol. The street Mason had led her down seemed to empty of people as she watched. Mason had stopped, three or four meters away from the ornate entrance to a walled courtyard.
As if on cue, three men stepped out of the shadows of the gate. All three were big men and carried weapons. The two flankers carried submachine guns, Lauren saw. The one in the center held a drawn pistol, not quite aimed at Mason. He was the one who spoke, “Took you long enough to get here. Almost thought you hadn’t got the message.”
“I hadn’t,” Mason said, “I’ve been… detained. What’s this about?”
Something caught Lauren’s attention above. Her eyes flicked to the rooftops to where two men took up overwatch positions, rifles held ready.
“Just a friendly chat,” the speaker said. “Our boss had no bone to pick with the priest. What happened here could have been avoided if he’d cooperated sooner.”
Lauren drew her own pistol as she saw Mason’s body stance shift. Even so, she barely had it out of the holster before his first shots rang out. The three men in the doorway were down. She had her pistol trained on the nearest of the men on the rooftop. Even as she squeezed the trigger, four more shots rang out, so rapidly they might have come from a machine gun.
One of the men fell onto the street, body limp. The other, struck by her shots and Mason’s, flopped back out of sight. Lauren peered around. Her heart beat rapidly. The burnt smell of smokeless powder stung her nose. “That’s all of them,” Mason said, his voice flat and emotionless as a robot. There were times he scared the hell out of her.
His cold blue eyes met hers and he frowned, “Are you alright?”
Lauren nodded, “I’m fine.”
Mason cleared his throat, “I… have to see this, but if you want…” A part of her cringed at his tone, for she knew exactly what he expected to find in this place. He hadn’t spoke of it much during the voyage, but the few words he’d said had held tones of reverence.
He expected to face the worst – his sanctuary, the place he found his soul again – to be violated. And he’s willing to face it alone, Lauren thought, as if I would leave him. Lauren said, “No, I’ll come.” She stepped forward and picked up her duffel to stand by his side. He smiled, at her and she smiled back.
The stepped through the gate and Lauren bit back a shout of surprise at what she saw on the other side. The wall had concealed a large, open compound. Dozens of trees, some in bloom with bright pink flowers, sat in clusters around small buildings. In the center, a larger stone building squatted. It consisted of many heavy stone pillars supporting a roof that seemed more curves and angles than anything else.
Boiling out of that structure came dozens of men and women in brightly embroidered robes. The ocular impact almost reset her brain after the dingy brown streets of the city. The crowd came to a halt, their leader an ancient old man with, what Lauren judged, what had to be the most absurd hat she’d ever seen in her life. It towered, a mass of feathers, beads, bells, and possibly acres of silk.
He managed to bow gracefully and Lauren repressed a giggle at the fact that the hat stayed firmly in place. “Mason, it is good to see you.”
Mason looked stunned, “Lan, it’s very good to see you, I thought–”
“You thought they had killed me,” The old man spoke calmly.
“Yes. I’m glad you’re alright.” Mason let out a deep breath. “Did they say why they came?” The old man nodded, his face expressionless, serene in a way that made Lauren feel uncomfortable. Not nearly as uncomfortable as his next words, though. “Yes, they came looking for Tommy King.”
***
Halcyon, Garris Major System
Contested
May 3, 2403
Garret yawned and stretched as he climbed out of the cockpit. His long, lean frame fit into the cockpit of his Hammer, but only barely. He ran a hand over his shaved scalp and then reached down and offered Heller his hand. As usual, she ignored it and pulled her light body out with one hand. Garret sighed, “You know, I'm just being polite?”
“Ya,” Heller said. “I'm being polite by not breaking your wrist.”
Garret sighed again, “You know, I couldn't fly with a broken wrist.” Normally a frown on his hard, dark face was reason enough for someone to change their attitude, especially backed by his size.
“This is reason for politeness,” Heller said as she dusted off her flight suit, doffed her helmet, and put her ear-buds in. Her voice grew a bit louder, “It would take me too long to train new pilot, ya?”
“Right,” Garret said. He shook his head as he turned away, but he didn't even try to hide his smile. Heller was eccentric, to say the least, but she was a great auxiliary officer on his Hammer.
“Commander Penwaithe,” a voice spoke from behind him.
Garret turned and grimaced to find a man in a black uniform. He recognized it as Nova Roman, which meant he was one of Admiral Mannetti's people, “Yes?” He recognized the tabs on the man's uniform, he was a commander as well, apparently. Like most of Mannetti's people, his uniform did away with any form of identification. Either they liked to keep people guessing who they were dealing with or it was some kind of stylistic choice, much like her infamous low-cut uniform.
“Commodore Pierce sent me to speak with you,” the officer said. “Admiral Mannetti is preparing a raid and the locals are going to accompany us for combat experience.” The smirk on his face told Garret just what he thought of that. “We're cross-loading some of your missiles to the locals, until they're able to replace some of their stocks.”
Garret grimaced. They'd captured Heinlein Base intact, but like many officers in the Colonial Republic, it's garrison commander had been corrupt. He'd sold off most of his stockpile of munitions to the black market, which meant that the locals had a paltry reserve to draw upon after the War Dogs had turned over the Colonial Republic ships to them. In theory, Admiral Mannetti could have made up that lack from the ships she'd captured. Of course, she'd moved those to one of her bases 'for repairs.'
Garret seriously doubted she'd ever turn over any of the ships and he had some dark suspicions about what had happened to the prisoners she promised to 'repatriate' to the Centauri Confederation.
Of course, the people of Halcyon Colony didn't ask many questions, in that regard. Their allies and hired help had come through, and they had liberated the planet. But funding was tight, the Colonial Republic had cut all trade and the Centauri Confederation had already threatened to retaliate for the loss of their ships and the profit of Nova Corp.
So now the locals had turned to privateering... which meant more work for the War Dogs, of course, but it also meant stronger ties to a pirate. A generous man would have assumed that it was just one of those things that happened. Garret being an experienced mercenary figured it was all according to Admiral Mannetti's plan... and that the long term survival of his former homeworld was in far graver jeopardy than it's inhabitants realized.
“I assume that Commodore Pierce has already received payment for the transfer?” Garret asked. Wherever his loyalties might, in theory, lie, he was still a mercenary. Payment of goods and services was a necessity, especially for when this entire enterprise fell apart and the people of Halcyon colony were left holding the bag.
“Of course,” the nameless commander answered.
“Great,” Garret smiled. He knew his white, even teeth would stand out starkly on his dark face and seem even more friendly. “I'll just call Commodore Pierce, then, to confirm and see how many we've been paid for already.”
The nameless commander grimaced, “Oh, well, that's fine. I, uh, meant to say that the President of Halcyon authorized a transfer for payment and I can arrange delivery.”
“Excellent,” Garret said and his smile grew broader. “I'll wait then, until the payment arrives.”
The commander grimaced, again, “Usually this sort of thing is done on trust.”
“Good, then you can trust me to transfer the munitions upon receipt of payment,” Garret said. “In the meantime, I've got some preparations to make.” Garret turned away and didn't bother to listen for a reply. He could almost hear the other man's teeth grind in frustration. He listened as the other man struggled a moment to think up some way to dig himself out of the hole he'd dug and then turned and stalked away. This kind of move was exactly the sleazy treatment he'd come to expect from Mannetti's people. Why, after all, did they need to even pretend to be fair to the hired help?
Garret loved to turn that around on one of them, especially since he had caught the other man trying to cheat him. The War Dogs couldn't afford the best munitions, but if they were transferring over enough to augment the Halcyon ships, then it would a quantity be worth hundreds of thousands in any currency worth mentioning. The crews of those ships needed those munitions, Garret didn't doubt. So far, they and the War Dogs had gone on two similar 'raids' with Admiral Mannetti. To Garret, it looked more like the Admiral wanted to use them in high visibility missions to lessen her own exposure.
Commodore Pierce had remained remarkably quiet about why they had remained under the contract at Garris Major. Garret had fully expected news that they would depart just after they'd turned over Heinlein Base to the locals. Instead, the Commodore had attended a number of meetings with the newly elected President Monaghan and his staff. One of dad's old cronies, Garret thought, if I remember right.
“You want me to let them know to prepare to transfer the missiles?” Heller asked. Her light voice and thick accent somehow managed to make even that sound sexy, Garret noted. He nodded, “Yeah, but don't authorize movement until payment clears.”
“Ya, of course,” Heller said with a roll of her eyes. She popped her ear-buds back in and bounced away. The small, blonde woman looked almost like a teenager as she flounced away.
Garret just shook his head and headed for the War Dogs offices. The huge bays of Heinlein Base were originally built for commerce, but they served more than adequately for warships. His eyes picked out the men and women of his squadron as they moved out after the patrol. Clint, Jason, and Caela headed with purpose towards the civilian section, no doubt to find a card game and company. Ted, more cerebral, looked to be headed for the barracks, no doubt to dive into a book or one of his strategy games. Jay and Ahmad both had girlfriends among the crew and they headed off together in a rush that made Garret smirk a bit.
The other four, Hugh, Tyrone, Jacel, and Jude, all oversaw the post-flight maintenance as the flight crews serviced their Hammers. The big gunboats required extensive maintenance after each flight, far more than a fighter or even dedicated bomber. The gun systems, especially, caused intense structural stresses on their hulls, but also all of the auxiliary systems, engines, and every other part of the big craft needed a full inspection after each flight and extensive maintenance.
Garret worked his way over to the War Dogs's offices. Almost as soon as he stepped inside, he found Commodore Pierce waiting. “What's this I hear about you refusing to transfer munitions?”
Garret sighed, “Not refusing, just requiring proof of payment, first, sir.”
“Well, good job, then,” Commodore Pierce said. “It didn't sound right when that sniveling worm called me a moment ago. How did the patrol go?”
That was one thing that Garret loved about the War Dogs. Some mercenary companies went with rigid military structures and enforced draconian discipline, to the point that reporting was an intensive process. “No sign of any activity from the RLF at Eldorado, but we didn't have time to linger and do a full scan. I uploaded our data already to our network, if you want, I'll go brief Josh on it.” Captain Josh Wachope was the War Dogs' operations officer.
“Nah, he'll want to review it and compare it to what Mannetti's people sent us from last week. I think they filtered their sensor data before they turned it over.” The tall, blonde man shook his head, “I'm about entirely fed up with those lying bastards at this point. If not for...” he trailed off and shot Garret a sharp glance. “Well, let's just say that the locals are lucky we're still here.”
“Right,” Garret nodded. It was reassuring, in many ways, to see that the Commodore had the same feeling as far as Admiral Mannetti. At the same time, Garret felt uncomfortable about the thought of leaving the planet to her tender mercies, especially since they didn't seem to realize how dangerous their alliance with her was becoming. In some ways, the War Dogs prevented Admiral Mannetti from entirely leveraging the colony into her pocket.
“Garret,” Pierce's tone changed and Garret heard the slightest hesitation in the other man's voice. “I know that you are originally from Halcyon. I haven't brought it up before... I know damned well where your loyalty lies.”
Garret stood a little straighter at that. His face flushed, though with his dark complexion it would have been hard to tell. The War Dogs weren't just any mercenary company, in many ways they were family. Better than his family had been, anyway. “Thank you, sir.”
The Commodore shrugged, “Just calling things the way I see them.” He cleared his throat, “However... I wonder if you might have contacts, here?”
“What do you mean by that, sir?” Garret asked. He felt uneasy at the thought. Granted, he hadn't any loyalty to the planet, but the way his superior had phrased it, it almost sounded as if they were talking about spying on their employers. Which is just good business sense for a mercenary company, Garret thought.
“Friends, former companions, even family,” Commodore Pierce said. “Anyone that you can talk with, possibly even leverage. There's more here than their struggle for independence, you've seen that. Hell, it's half the talk of our company. The shift to privateering went too quickly, their crews were too eager, and their government is getting too friendly with the likes of Admiral Mannetti and Admiral Collae.”
Garret shrugged uncomfortably. Not that he disagreed. “Sir, what does that have to do with us?” Granted, Admiral Mannetti and her people were snakes, but Admiral Collae had something of a good reputation as an opponent to the corrupt leaders of many of the Colonial Republic systems.
“I want to know why they're making such a big deal about such a backwater world. They pissed in the faces of the Centauri Confederation and they seem to count on the likes of Admiral Mannetti to keep them safe... and I want to know why they trust a pirate so much and what leverage they think they have on her. Because if their assumptions are wrong... we're going to be left holding the bag.” Pierce leaned back against the wall, “And I don't like being left holding the bag.”
“Yes, sir,” Garret said. He frowned in thought. When he'd left, he hadn't stayed in touch with anyone, for good reason. My father was vindictive enough, Garret thought darkly, that he would have used my old friends against me. Of course, he could always try to to talk to Jessica...
“I'll figure something out, sir,” Garret said. Yet he felt a spike of unease. If there was some mysterious leverage, then he didn't doubt that his father was involved up to his neatly trimmed beard. Spencer Penwaithe lived off of wealth and power like food and drink... and his plots were always labyrinthine. For that matter, the new President was one of his father's old cronies, which basically ensured that his father was running things, or thought he was, from behind the scenes. Getting involved in this would almost definitely draw him into his father's schemes yet again. On the other hand, with the fate of the War Dogs on the line, there wasn't really much choice. Garret let out a deep breath, “After all, I remember where my loyalty lies.”
“Good,” Commodore Pierce gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Oh, and when Mannetti's people call you back on the missiles, tell them there was an accounting error and that we're hiking the price by ten percent.”
***
Eldorado, Garris Major System
Colonial Republic
May 3, 2403
Mason and Lauren followed the ornately dressed monk towards the pillars of the monastery. After his initial announcement, he had deflected Mason's other questions. Lauren found him irritating. She didn't hold with holy men, not of any stripe. In her mind, any kind of higher power would have gotten itself involved already if it cared. What that meant was that either God didn't exist or he didn't care, in Lauren's book.
What that left holy men, in her regard, was either dupes or charlatans. The obvious intelligence of the monk suggested that he was the latter. They stepped under the awning of the monastery. The large stone pillars that upheld the ornate roof also divided the structure into separate areas. Up close, Lauren could see that there were a number of glass display cases, which had held what looked like scrolls, stone tablets, and other odd artifacts. Had being the operative word, Lauren thought dryly.
Someone had smashed the glass cases and torn bits of ancient parchment, smashed stone tablets, and broken glass littered the floors. Overturned tables marked a swath of destruction. The damage was complete and utterly thorough.
Mason turned to Lan, “I'm so sorry. This is my fault...”
“This is the fault of the men who did it,” Lan said, his voice calm. “I did not show you this to make you feel guilt, I showed you it so that you can see the determination of those who hunt you.”
“What else did they do?” Mason asked. There was a detached tone to his voice, almost as if he were tapping into some part of him that did not involve emotion.
“When I initially refused to divulge your location, they first threatened the collection of items we had here. I refused, so they destroyed them. They then threatened my people. However, I made it clear that not only would we not cooperate, but that I would kill myself rather than capitulate,” Lan said.
Mason winced. Lauren gave the old man a skeptical look. Passive resistance in that form only went so far, in her mind. Granted, the mercenaries needed him alive, but she didn't see how the man could prove his determination short of acting on it. Lan caught her look and gave her a small smile, he raised his wrists. She saw, with shock, that he had two bandages, one over each of his wrists.
“The mercenaries moved quickly to have a doctor save my life. After that, they did not further threaten my people, they merely made a recording, threatening the monastery, which they said they posted.”
Mason sighed, “I'm sorry, Lan. I've been out of contact for the past few months with no way to find their message. Otherwise, I would have come sooner.”
“Then I am disappointed in you,” Lan said, his voice calm. “I had assumed you realized that showing up would further endanger us, so you stayed away. The mercenaries would have left, eventually. Perhaps, then, they would have lived.” Lan turned, “I see that you have returned to violence.” The way he said it, Lauren could tell it wasn't a question.
Mason looked away. “Some things happened.”
“As I expected,” Lan said. “As happened here, the last time my people were under threat.” The monk sighed. “This, Mason, is why you had to leave before.”
“Because he defends the people he cares about?” Lauren snapped. She was tired of seeing Mason lectured. Yes, he had done terrible things. Yes, he had a core of violence. If he used that in the right way, she didn't see the issue.
“No, because his path, as always, is a different one,” Lan said. “I would not take a wolf pup, shear it, force it to eat grain, and run with the flock. To do so is to wrong the wolf and threatens the flock.” Lan cocked his head, “I might, instead, raise the wolf pup to protect the flock, feed it meat, and tame it... but again, this would be to wrong the wolf. This is not the path of the wolf.” Lan's gaze was calm as he met Lauren's eyes. “The wolf is a predator. He is not a sheep dog. He is not a sheep. He must hunt, must kill, it is in his nature.”
Mason sighed, “So, what, you want me to return to what I was?”
“The wolf who kills for no reason is not along his path either,” Lan said. “The wolf that hunts alone, without a pack, is less than himself.” The old man shrugged. “Truly, I merely wish for you to find the path that is right for you... and in that, I think you will finally find peace.”
Mason turned away. He took a deep breath as he stared down at the ruins of the artifacts. “I'm sorry about what happened here.”
“Do not be,” Lan said. “They are just objects, of little importance.” He smiled slightly, “Besides, we keep the actual ones hidden away, this is just what we show the tourists.” Despite herself, Lauren gave a snort. Perhaps Lan wasn't so bad after all.
Mason said, “I need to find out where they came from and what they wanted with... Tommy King.”
“They spoke of their employer several times,” Lan said. He pulled a slip of paper from inside his robes. “One of my younger monks followed them and found that this was the contact code they used at the planetary ansible.”
Mason took the slip of paper. “Whatever you feel about this, I know it is my fault.” Lauren hated the tone of defeat in his voice.
“Fault is inconsequential,” Lan answered. “To use terms of blame and fault is to imply causality, to suggest that man is stripped of choice, that we act only in response to others.” He cocked his head, “All men have free will... you have a choice, now, just as these other men did. What you do with it is up to you.”
Lauren shivered at his words. They were outwardly calm, yet there was a sense of warning and knowledge there... as well as resignation. Lan knew what choice Mason would take, yet he warned him anyway. If he really wanted to stop Mason, he wouldn't have given him the paper, Lauren thought. She watched Mason as he walked away with slumped shoulders.
Almost as if he had read her mind, Lan spoke, “To deny him the information would be to deny him free will, you know.”
Lauren looked sharply at the old monk. “Free will is overrated. I'd rather have a happy, ignorant life. Since I can't have that, I just want revenge.”
“How can one be happy without freedom?” Lan asked.
Lauren shook her head, “I don't have time for your riddles, old man.” She looked him in the eyes, “And if you really gave a damn about Mason, you'd have protected him from the only choice he could make. He spent a decade or more burying Tommy King.”
“A wolf could never be happy living as a sheep,” Lan said, his voice sad. “Nor, despite what it tells itself, would it find happiness in denial and isolation.”
All of the parables and similes and his odd behavior just became too much. Lauren wasn't certain if Lan wanted Mason to return to being the pirate Tommy King or if he didn't. For that matter, half of what he said sounded almost as if he said Tommy King wasn't a bad man. She stared at the old monk for a long moment as she searched for the right words. Eventually, she settled on the truth.
She glared at him suspiciously. “You are weird,” Lauren finally said.
***
Eldorado, Garris Major System
Colonial Republic
May 3, 2403
Mason McGann stalked through the streets, his head ranged in a predatory sweep as he led the way to the ansible building. His long legs drove him down the street at a pace just short of a jog, yet his hands remained close to his holstered pistols.
Lauren hurried to keep up. She felt almost winded as she trotted next to him. For a moment, she felt ridiculous as she glanced up at him. She barely stood as high as his shoulder, and his lean frame compared to her made her look like a pudgy duckling trying to keep up with a wolf as it stalked through a farmyard.
She shook off the mental image as they rounded the corner. Down the street she could see the billboard for the ansible building. It looked to be a corporate building, though on a Colonial Republic world like this, that could mean it was run by a government monopoly, freelance corporation, or conglomerate which owned the planet outright. Lauren didn't know enough about the planet or system to guess.
Mason paused and she saw his eyes range the street. “Worried about anyone seeing us?” Lauren asked. She kept her voice low and level, in the crowded streets, she didn't want to draw further attention to them. As it was, the people who passed them seemed to catch some sense of danger, they parted around them and left a couple meters of space to spare.
Mason answered after a moment, “There's been a team that kept us under watch since we left the monastery. I think they're just there to observe, but they might try to snipe us as we come out of the ansible building, if the meet doesn't go to plan.”
Lauren didn't allow herself to look behind. “How far back?”
“Two teams,” Mason said, matter-of-factly. “One just took up position in the hotel across the street. The other one is in an aircar, keeping a distance, but they're the ones that have followed us. Don't worry about tipping them off... they already know I've seen them.” Mason glanced up at the hotel across the street and gave a wave. Lauren's gaze went that way and she made out two men who sat on the third floor balcony. One of the men looked away sharply, the other spoke into his communications gear.
“What's the plan?” Lauren asked. She didn't like these kinds of odds. The enemy had their every move observed. They could attack from the air or ground, set up ambushes... or if they were really ruthless, call in a strike from space.
Mason gave a feral grin, “Well, I'm going to walk right in there and make a phone call. You'll watch my back.” There was an edge to his voice, one that made Lauren's back stiffen and made her fingers itch in anticipation.
“And if they decide that they're willing to waste the building to kill us?” Lauren asked, more from curiosity than anything else. She wasn't worried about dying. She would like the opportunity to fight back, though. Lauren had lost fear of death when the rest of her family died under Chxor occupation as a child. She didn't want to die, but she had no fear of death or the oblivion that she felt would come afterward. Death was just the cost of doing business.
“They'll probably tell their teams to pull back, unless they're some kind of fanatics,” Mason said. “This ansible station is over the colony's old utility tunnel network. If we see them pull back, we head for the tunnels and hope we make it out. Mason paused, “Oh and we pull the fire alarm on the way out, it might save some people in the building.”
Lauren shook her head. She had seen the aftermath of when the Baron fired on an abandoned hospital on Faraday to destroy a hidden Balor base. It had leveled ten city blocks and killed over a thousand civilians between the shot itself and the secondary explosion from their ship's reactor. If their enemy had serious firepower, pulling the fire alarm wouldn't help. For that matter, neither would the tunnels.
Mason strode forward. “If things really go south and we get separated, head back to the ship. They didn't pick us up until we approached the monastery so it may not be under observation.” He didn't speak for a moment as they approached their destination. “Odds are, with how they're behaving, they want me alive. So, I'd say take off as soon as you can. Either I'll be free to call you or they'll have taken me. Either way, I'd like you free to maneuver.”
“I'm not a very good pilot, in case you've forgotten,” Lauren said. She was actually a terrible pilot, she well knew. She had a little bit of training from Mason and even less practice from the Baron's special forces trainers, who had taught her basically enough to make a controlled crash.
They made it to the front of the building and Mason paused outside and gave her a smirk, “Yeah, how could I forget, that? Just don't ding up the Second Chance, okay?”
He stepped up to the counter before she could respond. “Got a call to make.”
The clerk looked bored, “Credit check?”
Mason scowled. They hadn't had time to do more than register their cargo, which meant any charge would come from their docking fees. That meant there would be a lien against his ship, Lauren knew. Mason had already lost his ship once, to a corrupt scheme back in the Anvil system. He hesitated and then slipped the paper across the counter, with the ansible code. “It's to this address.”
The clerk scanned the code and frowned, “Oh, a call is already authorized to that address and for you, Mr. McGann.” He stood a little straighter and Lauren could all but see the dollar signs light up in his eyes. “Step right this way, sir.”
Mason cocked an eye at her, “Big spender?”
She nodded. The whole situation stunk to her, even more. Either someone had setup the mercenaries or they had expected them to bring Mason here. Either way, he was clearly expected. They followed the clerk behind the counter and then down the hall. He led them past several check points, each time he flashed the code. Finally they stopped outside a large wooden door. The clerk spoke with a smug, friendly voice, “Sir, the suite comes equipped with the best privacy screens and if any refreshment is requested, be certain to just pull it up on the menu and we'll deliver it up by dumbwaiter.” The clerk paused, “Of course, tips are appreciated.”
Lauren frowned at that. She didn't like the slimy look the man had. Nor, in a way, did his service make her feel he'd earned anything. She glanced at Mason who had adopted a slight smirk of his own. “Give yourself a nice tip... from the account being charged, of course,” Mason said.
“Thank you, sir.” The clerk scurried away. Mason pulled the door open and stepped into the cool, dim room beyond. Lauren saw it was set up like a suite, with a couch and chairs, even a bed. She didn't know why someone would want a bed to talk on an ansible, but she didn't waste much time thinking about it. Mason walked over to the automated menu and stared at it. She saw him wince at the prices. “People really have got fat here, if they can afford these prices.”
“Oh?” Lauren asked.
Mason shrugged, “Tommy King raided the city thirty years ago. Took everything of worth that wasn't nailed down. Only thing he didn't loot was the monastery.”
“Oh?” Lauren asked, surprised at the reveal about his past. “Was that when...” she hesitated and glanced around the room. Just because she didn't see any obvious bugs didn't mean someone hadn't put the effort to install them. “Was that when he started to change?”
Mason looked up with a smirk, “Him, change? No, the monks didn't have anything he wanted. The monks were kind enough to put anything of worth out in the street.” He cocked his head, “Though, I suspect they hid their real wealth, canny bunch of fellows they are.”
He selected a set of icons, “Porterhouse steak for me, you?”
Lauren shook her head, “Isn't this wasting time?”
Mason snorted, “It's on the bill of whoever wanted me here. Might as well tweak their noses a bit first. They'll get the bill after we finish our conversation.”
Lauren just shook her head. “Any way to order up a response team or some heavy weapons, maybe an anti-air weapon system of some kind? Something light and portable?” She couldn't help the bite in her tone. She didn't care about insults or small wounds. Her motto was to stomp on an enemy, not to piss in their face.
Mason just nodded, “Steakburger, fries and a margarita it is, then.” He selected the order and then took a seat at the desk and put his feet up. “I haven't had a good steak in a few months.”
Lauren just sighed. She went to stand across from the suite's door and rested her hand on her pistol. She just hoped someone would come through the door, she suddenly wanted to kill someone.
***
Mason set his beer down and pushed his plate to the side. “Oh, that really hit the spot.” He glanced up at Lauren, “You're not eating? It's great food, way better than the stuff the Baron had.”
Lauren pursed her lips disapprovingly.
He shook his head, “Hey, it's true. I mean, I'm sure he would have fed everyone this well, if he could. But...” He trailed off as he leaned back and patted his belly. “There's just something added to the flavor knowing it comes out of the pocket of someone who's being pain.”
“Revenge is a dish best served cold,” Lauren said, her voice flat. She couldn't help it. Sometimes Mason's irreverence just got under her skin.
“Yes, but steak tastes so much better hot, juicy, and with that little bit of garnish,” Mason responded. He tapped on the menu and typed in the code. “But best to work, I agree.” Just before he typed in the last digit, he adjusted the empty plate to be certain it would be in the view of the camera.
Lauren rolled her eyes.
The holounit hummed to life and a waiting signal appeared. “Well, that's not nice,” Mason said. “At the least, I would assume our benefactor would be ready and waiting.”
“You took over an hour to eat,” Lauren said.
He smirked, “And waiting and waiting and waiting...”
The ansible connected and a moment later a familiar face appeared. “Ah, Mister McGann,” a rough voice said. The craggy face that stared out of the holounit looked as if could have been carved from stone. “Or should I say Tommy King?”
Mason's eyes narrowed. “Well, Admiral Collae, I'm afraid you've got me mistaken. But if you'd like, I'll go ahead and leave, I'd hate to intrude.”
“So eager to leave?” Admiral Collae asked. “Why, I'm reminded of our first encounter. You left rather abruptly as I recall... Tell me, what did happen to the fake Tommy King that was with you?”
“He died,” Mason said, his voice harsh.
“As I would expect the real one would treat an imposter,” Admiral Collae said, his gruff voice satisfied. “I must say, you played me quite well. Mistress Blanc too, she's actually quite upset with herself, you know, it's rare that someone so completely fools a psychic.”
“I'd imagine,” Mason said. “Well, if all you wanted was to reminisce and catch up, thanks for the meal, but I've a ship to catch.”
“Of course,” Admiral Collae said, his rough voice level. “But if you leave, now, you're making a tremendous mistake. One I'm sure will weigh heavily on you and your new girlfriend as well, especially with her loyalty to Baron Lucius Giovanni.”
Mason dropped his feet off the table and he leaned forward, “Why should I believe a word you say? For that matter, what would you care about Lucius Giovanni?”
Admiral Collae gave a smirk, but Lauren didn't miss the dangerous glint in his eyes. “Your Baron Giovanni has struck a considerable blow to the Balor. But, as the saying goes, never do an enemy a small wound. The Balor are regrouping... but most of the Colonial Republic thinks they're gone for good. Their alliances are unraveling... and it's only a matter of time before a lot of the old rivalries explode into a nice civil war.”
Mason's eyes narrowed and Lauren saw his hands drop to his pistols. “Couldn't happen to a nicer group of tyrants, corporate hacks, and terrorists, present company included.”
Admiral Collae's smirk grew into a smile, “Ah, there's the old hatred I had heard so much about. You know, I was actually disappointed when the original news of Tommy King's demise reached me. I never had the chance to test myself against the legend... disappointing, that.” He cleared his throat and if anything, his rough voice sounded even harsher when he spoke. “The end times are on us, Tommy King. You know what that means, don't you? Chaos, disorder, planets and systems scrabbling for safety, for a strong figure...”
Mason's eyes went dark, “I do. Lots of petty tyrants will try to set themselves up as the next big thing in town. Most of them will kill a lot of good people as they do it. I saw it happen when Amalgamated Worlds crumbled... I don't imagine it will be much better with the Colonial Republic.”
“I'm not just talking the Colonial Republic,” Admiral Collae said. “President Spiridon of the Centauri Confederation just dissolved their Senate and Sigma Draconis and Epsilon Indi seceded. The Tau Ceti Separatists have splintered into factions yet again, with Tau Ceti's Prime Minister going as far as to declare war with the Republic of Formalhut. Nova Roma is effectively gone. Who does that leave? What powers have lurked in the shadows... waiting for this opportunity?”
“The Shadow Lords,” Mason said, his voice suddenly cold.
“Them, yes, but also others,” Admiral Collae said. “Personally, I think the Shadow Lords are a less certain threat, but a woman scorned, that's something else entirely, isn't it? My former ally, Admiral Mannetti is the problem. She's known to hold grudges and your Baron has bested her not just once, but twice. She'll wait until your Baron is extended and at his moment of greatest weakness before she strikes him, too.”
“Why do you care?” Mason asked. He privately thought the Shadow Lords were far and away more dangerous than any normal set of pirates. Then again, from what few connections he maintained with the darker side of things, Lady Kail was a dangerously competent woman.
“Because I'm a target as well... As I said, she holds a grudge. And with what I took from Faraday, I've ships undergoing refit that she'll want,” Admiral Collae said. “My own self interest suggests that I pass along some information on the threat. Also, Baron Giovanni has proven that he, at least, can defeat the Balor, though perhaps not as artfully as I might with my greater measure of experience against them.”
“Why should I care?” Mason asked. “It's not like I'm much of a target. Seems to me she'll leave well enough alone.”
Admiral Collae gave a dry, gravelly chuckle, “The man I met, here at Anvil, was looking for redemption: he carried prayer beads. Tommy King walked into the monastery there Eldorado and came out as another man, one who might well give a damn about humanity. Of course, I could be wrong. If I am, then Tommy King was the kind of man who knew that any offer I might make would pave the way for vast riches and the opportunity to get some revenge against the people he hated.”
“Seems like you have me figured out,” Mason said, his voice light. “So if I were to take you up on that offer, where would we meet?”
“You know of the old Colonial Republic Prison in the Anvil system?” Admiral Collae asked. Lauren frowned, the name sounded vaguely familiar, but she wasn't sure where she'd heard it before.
“I know about Rota Prison,” Mason said. Lauren heard something dark in his tone, “If I decide to take you up on your offer, I'll see you there.” He ended the call.
“We should warn the Baron,” Lauren said, her voice nervous. She didn't know much about the Shadow Lords. What she did know was all bad. Powerful, old psychics, who hid out in shadow space and had pirate fleets that attacked out the blue, sacking entire worlds.
“And what, warn him people are after him?” Mason shook his head. “No, we go to him, now, and we'll just be a distraction. Hell, that's probably one of Collae's plans. Your Baron has a lot on his plate. And there's little enough chance he'll trust Admiral Collae, not after he tried to betray him.” He rubbed thoughtfully at the stubble on his chin. “No, we go to the Baron now and we don't help him out, we just increase the confusion, make it more difficult for him to make a decision... or else he just ignores the threat and does what he has to do, anyway.”
Lauren frowned, “We're at an ansible station, we could send him a message or warning.” She felt like she was betraying the Baron by retaining the information. I may not work intelligence for him anymore, she thought, but my training tells me that he needs to know this information.
“And tip our hand,” Mason said. “I guarantee Collae has an agent here. It's easy enough to tap into a call from one end or the other if you own the equipment.” He shook his head again. “No, we've got to find out more before we go back to the Baron.”
Lauren bit her lip as she remembered the heavily ornate document in her locker back aboard the Second Chance. Just before she'd left, the Baron had given it to her. The Letter of Marque would allow her to act as a privateer or agent for the United Colonies. For that matter, from what her old boss, Alicia Nix, had told her, it authorized her to recruit and deputize others, basically up to and including a fleet. Of course, she thought, if I really get out of hand they could always revoke it...
Mason met her eyes with his own. “The way I see it, Admiral Collae wants Tommy King. Not just for his skills, but for his contacts and for his ships.”
“Do you have those?” Lauren asked. From the little he'd said, it sounded as if he'd turned his back on all that. She would imagine that kind of behavior might burn bridges. She didn't think the types of people he had associated with would be the forgiving types.
“Those and more,” Mason said, his eyes suddenly distant. “And that's part of what I'm afraid of,” Mason said. “Tommy King was bad enough, I hate to think of what a man like Collae would do with the resources I can access.”
“Please,” Lauren said, her voice dry. “Remember, I found you stranded on Anvil, your ship impounded and with barely enough cash to pay your bar tab.”
Mason smirked a bit, “You did, indeed. And for that matter, I can't say I didn't need your help...” His smile died and something very dangerous suddenly looked out of his eyes. “But you were helping Mason McGann, not Tommy King.” His voice took on a deeper lilt, almost a nasal twang, “And Tommy King is a different fellow altogether.”
He stood, “We go this route and it's a dangerous road.” His voice was level, but she saw some uncertainty in his eyes. He's afraid, she realized with shock, afraid of what I'll see in him. The thought was absurd to her. She'd seen and done terrible things of her own. For that matter, she felt like she had far less compunction than he did, especially when killing the Chxor or their human sympathizers were concerned.
“Join forces with the infamous pirate Tommy King, travel the galaxy, meet new and interesting people... kill them,” Lauren smiled, “Where do I sign up?”
***
Chapter I
Faraday System
United Colonies
July 12, 2403
Baron Lucius Giovanni, Leader of the United Colonies – such as it was – and Commander of it’s Military Forces wondered whether the Giovanni stubbornness came of hereditary origins or if it might just be contagious. “Reese, I heard you the first time.”
“Then order her not to do it, dammit!” Lucius’s brother-in-law snapped.
“You know as well as I do how that would turn out,” Lucius said, his voice dry. “And to a point, her arguments are valid.”
His tall, blonde brother in law turned a deeper shade of red and he snapped, “Valid?” Lucius winced at the shout. Reese leaned over Lucius's desk, “She wants to join the Fleet. I nearly lost her once, I refuse–”
“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Lucius said sharply, “Our battles haven’t been exactly gentle on civilians.” Reese opened his mouth for another argument. “She also has a point in that she feels the same way about both of us. The Nova Roma Imperial Fleet denied her the opportunity to serve with us, not without waivers that she couldn’t get after my father’s actions. She’s tired of seeing us both go off to battle and not being able to help.”
Reese looked away, but the set of his jaw showed he still disagreed.
“Finally, I’ve made her agree to join the new Academy here on Faraday, rather than enlisting as she intended to do at first,” Lucius grimaced, “I’m certain you understand what a disaster that could be.” Despite himself, Reese snorted at the thought of his wife following orders as an enlisted rating aboard ship.
“Furthermore, it will take two years for the first class of officers to graduate. Both you and I know how grossly the war with the Chxor can change in that time.” Lucius shrugged, “With most of our current simulations we’ll have broken them entirely and she may well serve in a peacetime Fleet... or we’ll all be dead anyway.” Of course, those simulations didn't take into consideration the many other threats. The Balor had been knocked back, but General Shaden had reported them regrouping. The Shadow Lords were out there too, malevolent and powerful human psychics who pirated across human space with massive fleets.
Reese shook his head, “At least pull some strings and get her assigned–”
“That kind of patronage would set exactly the wrong precedent, create exactly the wrong atmosphere.” Lucius answered. “Even if I felt it necessary, I wouldn’t do it.”
Reese took a step back. Desperation marked his face as he spoke, “She’s all I have, Lucius. Please, this is my wife... your sister!”
Lucius sighed, “Reese, I can’t.
He watched his friend’s face harden, “Again, you choose politics and possible consequences over your own family. We got lucky last time, lucky that someone else got her out of danger. Danger you could have prevented. It’s the same thing and now I can see that the truth is you don’t give a damn about anything but your little empire you’re building out here.”
Lucius grimaced, “Reese…”
His brother-in-law's blue eyes were cold and hard, “No, Baron, we’re done. If you won’t help me with this, I’ll see what I can do on my own.” Reese turned and stalked out of the office.
A moment after the door closed Lucius’s com chimed. He answered it with a slight sigh, “Yes?”
“Baron, Admiral Dreyfus called up to remind you about the strategy session at fifteen hundred.” The voice of his new civilian secretary announced.
Lucius grimaced again, he was late, “Thank you, Cindy. Please let him know I had an issue come up and that I’ll be down immediately.”
***
“Attention on Deck!”
Lucius paused in the doorway, momentarily startled by the pronouncement. He shook his head, “Carry on.” There were times his new position caught him off guard, and one of those areas lay in military formalities. “Sorry I’m late, I had an issue come up.” He took the open seat left for him between Admiral Dreyfus and Admiral Mund.
Admiral Dreyfus spoke first, “We’ve finalized a set of plans for the offensive, sir. Captain Doko, as the head of that particular project, has prepared a brief.”
The familiar captain stood from his position at the table. His light pitched voice was confident as he spoke, “Gentlemen and ladies, I’m Captain Doko of the War Shrike. A quick summary: in order to secure our own borders and to save the lives of billions, we must not only stop the expanding Chxor, but liberate the worlds they’ve conquered.” He brought up a hologram that illuminated the vast and angry red swath of the Chxor held worlds. “Of particular interest is securing Nova Roma herself, along with the shipyards the Chxor captured intact.”
He paused to let his audience study the map and the glowing beacon that was Nova Roma. “Our primary concern is time.” Anthony Doko said. “The more time the Chxor are allowed, the more established they can become on those worlds. Also, we believe that given more time, millions of human civilian lives may be lost to Chxor death squads, work camps, and other atrocities.”
Lucius grimaced at that. They’d liberated one such facility in the Melcer system and still hadn’t processed all the survivors. From what he’d heard, the Chxor punished minor ‘crimes’ such as leaving ones assigned district by assignment to their death camps. The Chxor simply executed anyone of anything they considered a major violation.
“Therefore, gentlemen and ladies, our best possible course of action is to open a direct path to Nova Roma, by securing these three systems,” Doko activated his control and illuminated the short chain. “Melcer, Tehran… and Danar.” The Nova Romans at the table began to mutter amongst themselves at the last.
Captain Doko continued, “Melcer we’ve already successfully attacked. It seems unlikely that it might have been substantially reinforced in the time since to the point that we cannot capture the system.”
The next star in the short chain began to blink. “From Melcer, the system Tehran is only a three day journey through shadow space.” He cleared his throat, “Tehran was an independent world. Going off of our intel on the Shah and his people, it seems likely that they will have fought against the Chxor. We don’t know the extent of their resistance, but it seems likely they will welcome any kind of relief from the Chxor.”
“That seems overly optimistic, doesn’t it?” Lucius asked, his brow furrowed.
Admiral Dreyfus spoke, “Baron, we’ve analyzed your more recent records, especially the… disagreement between the Shah of Tehran and Nova Roma. Although they disliked outsiders in general, we believe that they’ll welcome any help in removing the Chxor.”
Captain Doko shrugged, “In any case, sir, we’ll have control of the orbitals and use of the system for long enough to open other possible supply routes. Judging by the chaos the Chxor left here on Faraday after their brief occupation, Tehran will be in disarray for some time.”
Lucius nodded, “I believe that warrants further analysis, but your point is valid. We can hold the system for a time before issues of occupation versus liberation come up. Continue.”
The hologram chain strobed on the third system, the one closest to Nova Roma. “That leaves us with Danar, gentlemen, and that is altogether another issue.” Doko's voice held confidence, but Lucius could still hear the edge of anguish there. Danar had claimed the lives of more of Nova Roma's military forces than any other system.
The hologram zoomed in to show an expanded diagram of the system. “It was Nova Roma’s second largest Fleet Base, with large reserves of mines, missiles, and an extensive sensor network.” Doko gritted his teeth, “Due to a... miscommunication, the commanding officer stood down most of the defenses just prior to the Chxor offensive, and he surrendered with minimal resistance when the Chxor enveloped the Empire.”
Lucius bit his tongue against the words he wanted to say regarding Admiral Vibius’s shameful actions. Pride and arrogance sent five battleships, two squadrons of cruisers and the entire screen element into a point-blank gunfight with the Chxor dreadnoughts in the worst defeat of the war.
“We believe that our forces are strong enough to break the Chxor element in the system and to hold it long enough to fortify it and move on to Nova Roma.”
Admiral Mund spoke, his voice dry, “As you can imagine… some of us Nova Romans have doubts in that regard.” He shook his head, “Admiral Ambrogino thought much the same and he had a significant firepower advantage when he mounted his first attack there.”
Captain Doko nodded, “Yes, sir. But, at the time, the Chxor expected a counter-attack. Their commander also got lucky when Admiral Ambrogino’s carrier hit a wandering mine.” The loss of the Praetorian to that ill fate had cost Nova Roma a thousand sailors and the chance to refuel and rearm its fighter squadrons.
“And what about the subsequent defenses that they prepared for Ambrogino’s return?” Admiral Mund asked.
“It seems doubtful that they left such extensive minefields in place, sir,” Admiral Dreyfus's intelligence officer, Captain Wu, said, from down the table. “The Chxor, having secured that front, are unlikely to leave such hazards for their own merchant and military traffic through the system.” Her voice was confident, though Lucius remembered well enough how other officers had been confident about recovery of the Danar system.
“But we can’t be certain,” Admiral Mund said, “Not until we arrive in the system, and hopefully avoid emergence on top of a minefield.”
“Sir, the plan right now is that we will begin the attack down the Melcer corridor. Once we kick that off, the Chxor will know where we plan to attack and we can begin scouting operations,” Captain Doko said.
“So... we'll assault a prepared force, in a system that’s defeated three significant attempts by the Nova Roma Fleet,” Admiral Mund’s voice dropped by habit into his lecture mode, a tone that Lucius remembered too well. “This doesn’t seem to be… well conceived.”
“Sir, the fact remains that the Chxor have far more naval production than any other power and massive reserves of capital ships.” Anthony Doko stood straight. “If we give them time, they can overwhelm even Admiral Dreyfus’s ships with numbers, just as they did to the Nova Roma Imperial Fleet. But… that’s only if we allow them the time and strategic initiative to do so.”
He typed in a command in the arm of his chair and the hologram shifted to show the distorted map of shadow space. “Danar and Nova Roma are the keys to that. If we hold both systems, we can threaten a vast region of recently conquered worlds. From Danar, we can, in fact, threaten their core worlds. If we can put them on the defensive, we gain time and, most importantly, prevent them from taking the offensive with their numbers. The key to taking Nova Roma is Danar... the key to turning this war around is Danar. We have no other option as we see it.”
Admiral Mund cocked his head. He rubbed a hand across his bald head and rested his chin on his hand. “Very well, I accept your point.” He pursed his lips, “I really don’t like this, but despite my objections, I agree with you. We do, indeed, have very little choice, we must take Danar to liberate Nova Roma.”
Captain Doko cleared his throat. “Thank you, sir. Now, the best way that we’ve found to do this is the seizure of Melcer, with a follow-on attack on Tehran and then Danar.” Captain Doko turned to face down the table at Captain Franks, “Captain Franks will now brief the breakdown of forces.”
The hologram shifted again to show the two pronged attack. “Now, then ladies and gentlemen, I'll show you the initial breakdown of our forces and how we intend to coordinate our forces. As you can see, the balance of our current forces allows us…”
***
Shadow Space
Second Chance
July 13, 2403
Lauren Kelly looked up from cleaning her weapons as Mason stepped into the galley. He glanced at the galley table and frowned, “I didn't think you'd packed that much of an arsenal.”
Lauren looked down at the disparate parts, laid out neatly in orderly rows across the oil-stained towel. “I like being prepared.”
Mason sat down across from her and watched as she meticulously cleaned each part. He rubbed his stubbled jaw in a thoughtful manner before he spoke. “You know, for someone who hates the Chxor as much as you do, I would almost figure that you'd be less organized, maybe as a result. You know, rebellious nature and all.”
Lauren shook her head, “I'm very orderly, especially about killing Chxor.” She was obsessive about it, she would admit. She had only fired the pistol, but she still broke down and cleaned all of her weapons. The stubby-barreled submachine gun especially. She loved that weapon, in particular. The suppressed weapon had been a last minute purchase as they left Faraday, but the soft chatter it made when she fired it gave her a rush... especially when she thought about what the large bullets would do to a Chxor.
“I might have noticed that,” Mason said, his voice droll. “So, we need to talk about what happens when we reach Anvil.”
Lauren looked at him suspiciously. He raised his hands, “Look, I know I said we're partners and all that... but this isn't something you really want to be involved with.”
“You're right,” Lauren said. “This is something I need to be involved with.” She saw him open his mouth to respond and she stabbed one finger at him, “Shut up and listen, Mason.” She took a deep breath and let it out while she focused her thoughts. “The way I see it, I need to be with you for three reasons.”
Lauren held up her hand with one finger raised, “One, you need someone to watch your back. There's no way a snake like Collae doesn't have plans for you that don't involve your survival... there's too much benefit to reap from taking down Tommy King.” She raised her middle finger, “Two: I need to be there to watch out for the Baron's interests. Even if, and this is a big if, Admiral Collae doesn't have a goal of bringing him down, there's still the chance, a big one, that what he is after will harm the United Colonies.” She looked down at her weapons and started assembling them, her fingers moved rapidly from practice and she let the easy task sooth the emotions that threatened to spill over.
“What's number three?” Mason asked.
Lauren sighed, “That's the one that I didn't want to have to say.” She looked up and didn't wipe away the tears in her eyes. “If you become Tommy King, if you look to become the scourge you were before or worse, then I need to be there to stop you, one way or the other.”
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
July 15, 2403
Kate Bueller stood as the shuttle for the latest envoy to the new United Colonies arrived. Like the others, this was a complex ballet of order and precedence. The United Colonies was an independent nation, unlike most of the Colonial Republic factions which had thus far sent their emissaries. They officially were a unified nation, but in reality, most systems functioned on their own, directed by whatever tinpot dictator, oligarchy, or corrupt leadership dominated it. Sometimes those systems controlled others, either as satraps or even occasionally as equal partners.
This envoy was, as far as she knew, representative of one of the largest such factions within the Colonial Republic. Since he represented such an important government, she was here to greet him. It wouldn't do to have the Baron present, even if he'd had the time, because this wasn't a head of state. A head of state greeting a functionary of a splinter faction of a nation would establish a poor precedent and would also make the United Colonies seem equal or even less legitimate than the people they met. Such subtle political machinations were beyond the Baron, she knew, thus he wouldn't complain when she told him she'd handle all of the various emissaries, diplomats, and envoys which had begun to arrive almost as soon as the ink dried on their new constitution.
Her legality in such a position was slightly unclear. She was officially a representative for the fifteenth district of Faraday. With the position came a certain level of authority and responsibility. She was also the head of Parliament’s Foreign Relations Panel which, by the structure of the Constitution, made her the Foreign Minister. Of course, the Parliament had yet to officially ratify her position. Some of the less scrupulous members were holding up such appointments, mostly as a way of trying to scrape together their own power.
As a result though, she had limited authority to discuss much of anything with most of the various distinguished men and women who had so far visited. That didn't bother them. They were here to appraise themselves of the new power out here on the edge of human space... and to meet the men and women who had defeated not just the Chxor, but also the Balor.
The shuttle door opened and the band nearby began to play. Kate was no stranger to theatrics and the band flawlessly began to play the anthem of the envoy's faction as he began to walk down the steps. She noticed him pause, mid-step and look over at the band. Yet nothing showed on his face as he walked down the steps to halt across from her. As with the other initial meetings, the Faraday press were present. Though she doubted that this latest meeting would make the news after the constant parade of distinguished people over the past few weeks.
“Madame Foreign Minister,” the envoy said. He was shorter than her, with black hair streaked with gray. He was unmistakably Asian and, from what little that Kate had been able to find on him, of entirely Japanese ancestry, as well. His voice was rough, but without the slight accent that most people from the Shogunate had.
“Mister Noguchi, thank you for coming,” Kate said. They did the mandatory handshake and smile in front of the cameras. Kate turned and led him down the carpet to the waiting car. One of her assistants scurried to open the door. “How was your trip?”
“Uneventful,” he said, a smile on his face for the cameras. “I'm glad to have finally arrived here at Faraday.” They ducked into the waiting limo and he took a seat. He quirked an eyebrow at her as she flipped on the privacy screens. Kate smiled more genuinely, “We value our privacy here, on Faraday. And while I've got you alone, away from all the press for a moment, I thought I might ask some genuine questions.”
“Well,” his eyes narrowed. “That's refreshingly honest.” His tone suggested that he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
Kate leaned back in her seat and stared at him. His flawless suit couldn't hide the muscles on his body... or the faint scars on the side of his face. “I had some questions for you, Mister Noguchi, more about why the Shogun appointed you as his envoy to the United Colonies.”
He leaned back, “I'm one of his trusted envoys, Miss Bueller. Why wouldn't he?”
“Your past is a bit more checkered than some of his other diplomats,” Kate said. She kept her voice level. “Then there's the fact that your diplomatic credentials have been revoked in the Loire, Centauri, and Wodanaz systems.” She paused. “Or also that Mike Noguchi is a pseudonym, and that under a different name, Mike Smith, you once carried a Letter of Marque for Nova Roma. As far as I can determine, you've actually met Baron Giovanni, while you acted as a raider against the Chxor. Under that name you were arrested in the Upsalla system for murder, where you apparently served a year of hard labor before you escaped.”
The envoy's fake smile died. “Very well. You've clearly done your homework.” He cocked his head and his brown eyes glittered dangerously, “So why am I here?”
“I'm trying to figure that one out,” Kate said. “The Shogun is one of the shrewdest of the rulers in the Colonial Republic. Honestly, there are days I wonder why he doesn't just declare his little nation independent.” She smiled, “It's nice to finally be playing with the big boys, I was getting tired of the second cousins of Glorious Leader of Whogivesafuckistan.”
Mike Noguchi gave a snort at that.
“There's a number of reasons to pick you,” Kate said as she poured herself some champagne and offered him a glass. “There's your military experience, your personal experience with the Baron, and then there's the fact that he obviously trusts you. You're the Shogun's troubleshooter... his dairi, as you might say.” He politely declined the glass and Kate sipped at her own. “So, as I see it, there's three reasons you're here: you're here to evaluate our military strength as an ally or partner, you're here to set us up as a target and to establish some assets, and you're probably here to make us an offer of some kind.”
“So calculating?” Mike Noguchi asked.
“Yes,” Kate said. “Your military experience would be most useful for evaluating our strengths, your position will allow you to meet a number of political figures and identify the corrupt ones, and since you've met the Baron before, he might be more amenable to your offer... whatever it is.”
Mike sat back and gave her a smile, “Well, as you said, it's nice to be playing with the big boys. I take it this isn't you feeling me out for possible bribes?”
Kate smiled, “Mister Noguchi, I worked very hard to build this nation... I'm not going to help anyone tear it apart.”
“You might have been better suited to tell me the opposite and see what you could find as a result,” Mike answered.
“Honesty,” Kate said, “it cuts both ways.” She leaned back, “Care to tell me what offer you're here to make to the Baron?”
Mike nodded, “Actually, yes. I don't mind the chance to feel you out before I try to talk to him about it.” He sighed, “I understand that your Baron ran afoul of Admiral Collae?”
Kate frowned, but she nodded. “Yes, the rogue officer tried to betray us over the Dreyfus Fleet.”
“Your Baron got the upper hand on him, something that rarely happens,” Mike Noguchi frowned. “The Shogun has his own rivalry with Admiral Collae. In particular, we understand that Collae made his escape with several Chxor dreadnoughts. From what we've learned, he has begun to refit them, with the goal of attacking a number of Republic systems.”
“I don't see how this is our problem,” Kate said levelly.
“It isn't,” Mike said in response. “It is a Colonial Republic matter, one that they should resolve... but Admiral Collae has powerful friends. The Shogun has made some enemies as well, so the various factions resist movement against him. Part of this comes back to the Shogunate's membership to the Colonial Republic. If the Shogun makes a move to leave, the other factions would attack to prevent their dissolution.”
“Interesting,” Kate said.
“In some ways, your victory here has made them more fractious. They've seen the Balor set back and the pressure on that side has dropped off. Alliances have fallen apart overnight, old rivalries have been restored,” Mike smiled slightly. His eyes went distant, “The Shogun has tired of it. He views your Baron as an excellent example... but he lacks the iron gauntlet hidden in your silk glove.”
“The Dreyfus Fleet?” Kate asked.
“Indeed. Your news broadcasts have made much about the fact that you are constructing shipyards. More than that, you have technology from Nova Roma and Amalgamated Worlds, both more advanced than anything we can manage. The Shogun wants to buy ships. Charter a fleet so that he can protect his people in the coming chaos.”
“Coming chaos?” Kate asked with narrow eyes.
“I'm not delusional enough to believe that the Chxor have been stopped, much less the Balor. Soon enough they'll attack again. For that matter, the Shogun has angered the Shadow Lords. We've suffered a number of attacks from our neighbors within the Colonial Republic as well. So, yes. I think, as you do, that the Colonial Republic's days are numbered... humanity's days are numbered, unless strong leaders stand against the threats out there. So the Shogun wishes to charter ships and training, so that my people have a chance. In return, he offers to pay for the ships construction and to forge a military alliance.” The last was something that Kate mentally discarded. The Shogunate lay on the other side of human space. In all likelihood, any alliance between them would be more formality than anything else for the foreseeable future.
“And your Emperor?” Kate asked. The Divine Emperor of Haichiman-Gu was a figurehead, but one whose commands carried a tremendous weight. She'd heard that they viewed him with a religious reverence. The idea seemed silly to her, particularly because his was a power of right of birth. Yet, from what she understood, he rarely used that power... whether that was by design of his advisers and the Shogun or his own preference she didn't know.
Mike Noguchi didn't miss a breath, “The Emperor has asked the Shogun to look after his people, in the darkness and uncertainty of the future.” His answer was interesting to her, in that it contained not the slightest trace of irony or sarcasm. It could have been a rote response, yet, in a way, his tone suggested it held levels of importance and meaning. A very odd people, she thought.
Kate took another sip of her champagne. She didn't speak for a long moment. “That's an interesting offer. I can honestly say that is something that the Baron will have to think about. It is, however, something that I don't think he'll discount off-hand.” They would need ships of their own in the war against the Chxor. Yet, it seemed likely that they would soon liberate Nova Roma and Danar, both of which held large shipyards. At that point, they may well have more building capacity. Those discussions were ones that would have to happen at the highest levels, between her, the Baron, and Admiral Dreyfus, probably with some of his other advisers. Matthew Nogita still held a nebulous role, not quite military and not quite civilian, in helping to organize their industry. She felt certain he would step in. For that matter, she felt that Alicia Nix, as the head of the new Federal Investigation Bureau, would have a role.
“Well,” Mike said. “In the meantime, I'd love to get a chance to see what I can of your military... and to get to know some of your more corruptible politicians.”
***
Halcyon, Garris Major System
Contested
July 16, 2403
Garret paused as he stepped out of the taxi. The neat, tidy house seemed unchanged from a decade ago when he had last seen it. The colorful flowers and decorative shrubs still showed the attentive detail of Jessica's mother, while the carefully maintained vehicle in the driveway showed that her father was still just as stubborn about keeping the battered machine going.
He turned and leaned over. “Wait here,” Garret said and passed the driver a few of the new local scrip. The driver grimaced at the payment, but he didn't argue. There wasn't much trust for paper money, Garret knew, but he wasn't about to spend anything else here, not when half the War Dogs' pay was in the local currency. The other half went to an off-world account at Port Klast in escrow, backed by precious metals.
Garret stepped forward and opened the whitewashed wooden gate. He was halfway to the porch before he hesitated. Do I really want to do this, he wondered, do I really want to drag Jessica into this mess? He couldn't answer the question and part of him didn't even know if he was reluctant about bringing her in because of the risk to her... or the risk to himself.
He turned around and looked back at the cab. The driver sat, bored, in his seat. The sun on Garret's dark skin and the familiar scent of pines in the air both unnerved Garret and made him feel at home. I never wanted this, Garret thought. He had forsworn it all, the planet, his father, even Jessica. He never wanted to return, but what choice did he have? Admiral Mannetti put the entire planet at risk and they seemed oblivious to it. Their ignorance put the War Dogs at risk as their employees. He had to know why... and all it cost him was opening up a part of his life that he should have come to terms with long ago.
“Garret?” an incredulous voice said from behind him.
Her voice sounded so familiar that Garret felt his throat close up. He turned, her name on his lips, but froze with shock to see a red-headed woman on the porch.
“It is you!” The young woman jumped down and ran over to give him a hug. He stood there awkwardly. “Wow, who would have thought that you would come back.” She released him and stepped back. Something of his confusion must have shown on his face and she grinned at him, “Don't you recognize me?”
“Uh, no?” Garret asked.
“It's Abigail, you know, Jessica's little sister?” She gave a giggle at the surprise on his face. “All grown up, as you can see. It's great to see you! Are you back here to talk to my dad? Hey, dad, guess who's here!” she shouted.
A moment later, Daniel Gordon stepped out of the garage. The old man hadn't changed, he still wore coveralls and had grease stains all over his hands and his bald head shone under the sunlight. “Wow, Garret Penwaithe.” He wiped his hands off on a rag and stepped forward. His tan face creased in a grin as his eyes ranged over Garret, “Joined up with someone, I see. You're wearing civies but your bearing suggests military.”
Garret shrugged uncomfortably. Jessica's father had been something of a mentor for him, especially when Garret had asked questions about military service. “I did a tour with the RLF, then signed on with some mercenary companies. I'm with the War Dogs, now.”
“Wow,” Abigail said, “The War Dogs, that's awesome! I hear they totally trashed the merc goons working for Nova Corp. Were you in that fight?”
Garret felt himself flush. Luckily it didn't show on his dark skin, “Well, yeah, actually.”
“Good fight, from what I hear,” Daniel said. “You go officer?” He grunted at Garret's nod. “Thought you would, but did some time enlisted to see if you could take it.” He spat to the side, “War Dogs are a good bunch.”
“They're heroes,” Abigail said eagerly. The adoration in her voice made Garret's face burn. It didn't help that little Abigail had grown up, really grown up. He told himself he had no business noticing how attractive she'd become. He was ten years older than her and she was the little sister to Jessica, after all. Besides, whatever her age, she looked like she was fifteen. “I hear you guys are helping to train up our new navy and that you're keeping the Colonial Republic and Nova Corp goons from coming back. Do you guys really fly Hammer gunboats? Aren't they, like, fifty years old?”
Garret's embarrassment deepened and the look of amusement on Daniels face didn't help. He ran a hand over his shaven scalp. This wasn't going as expected. He had expected a sullen welcome or possibly even anger at his return. And while the War Dogs had a good reputation, they were still mercenaries. Mercs didn't get used to any kind of praise, much less the gushing attitude from Abigail. “Uh, yeah, I fly a Hammer,” he said, awkwardly, “I'm actually the squadron commander.”
“That's so awesome,” Abigail said eagerly. “Hey, do you have any open slots? I got my certification and I've an application to join the Halcyon Defense Fleet, but there's a huge waiting list. If I could do some time with the War Dogs that would be great!”
Garret coughed, “Uh, maybe?” he looked over at Daniel, expecting to see disapproval, but the old man just gave him a slight smile and nod. “We're not actively recruiting, right now.” Garret said awkwardly.
“Yeah, but I bet you need personnel, especially certified techs,” Abigail said.
Garret bit his tongue on a polite lie. The last thing he wanted was Jessica's little sister involved in the War Dogs. Especially with how idealistic she appeared. Granted, they had people like her, but hell, what if she got killed? He took a deep breath, “Tell you what,” he pulled a card out of his pocket and passed it over, “here's my contact info. Send me your resume and I'll see what I can do.” Hopefully the Commodore would just chuck it.
“Thanks,” Abigail said. “You'll have it before you even get back to Heinlein Base. It's so awesome that you came by to see me and dad!”
Garret coughed, “I, uh, was actually here to see Jessica.” At his words, he saw something pass over Daniel's face, but before the older man could speak, his daughter did.
“Oh,” Abigail frowned. “Why didn't you just swing by your brother's house?”
“What?” Garret asked. He hadn't thought of his older brother in years, other than somewhat absent regret about how his brother seemed bound and determined to follow their in their father's footsteps. “Why would she be there?”
Abigail's face fell. “Uh... seriously, you don't know, do you?”
“Don't know what?” Garret felt confused. He'd been gone ten years, why would she assume he knew what his brother was up to? He looked over at Daniel, but the older man seemed at a momentary loss for words. His gaze went back to Abigail, who stared at him with an expression of shock. “What?”
“Garret...” Daniel started.
“Jessica married your brother, Harris, a few months after you left,” Abigail said.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
July 16, 2403
Lucius’s troubled dreams ended with the harsh buzzer of an alert.
He sat up and wiped the sleep out of his eyes even as he wished he could scrub the cobwebs out of his brain. “Yes?” He asked as he answered the alert. In the next room, he heard Kaylee start to cry. Well, there goes any chance of sleep, Lucius thought dryly.
“Baron, sorry to interrupt you, but we’ve just had an alien ship arrive in the system.” The duty officer said, her voice calm.
“Balor or Chxor?” Lucius asked, suddenly wide awake.
“Neither, sir. We’ve nothing like it in our records.” The woman cleared her throat, “Sir, they’ve commed us, verbal only, asking to speak with you.”
“I’m on my way to the command center now.”
***
Being both the military leader and nominally the civilian head of the new government on Faraday, Lucius had transferred most of his day to day operations ground-side. The unfortunate consequence of that was that he no longer had only a short walk to the bridge of a ship. Instead, he had to take a ground car to the newly-constructed command center.
It seemed more than a little alien to him still, as he walked quickly down the freshly-painted corridors. He’d served aboard ships so long that he felt far more comfortable aboard the narrow corridors and cramped conditions of a warship.
“Any change in status?” Lucius asked as he stepped into the Faraday Defense Command Center. Admiral Dreyfus appeared on one of the screens, “Baron, we’ve detected no signs of hostility, as yet. The emissions are definitely alien, but we’ve noted some similarities in drive readings to Nova Roma vessels.”
Lucius brought up the data as he took a seat. He frowned at the sleek hull of the battleship. It looked oddly familiar. The sensor readings looked familiar too, though he couldn’t say why. The running estimate from intelligence was that the ship had a similar power output to a Desperado-class battleship, which made it roughly on par with his old ship, the War Shrike.
“Have they said anything more?” Lucius asked.
Captain Trevors, the officer of the watch, spoke from his station, “No, sir, nothing since their request to speak with you.”
Lucius nodded slowly, “Very well, let them know I'm ready to speak.” He waited. A moment later a familiar face appeared on his screen.
“Lucius, it is good to see you again,” Strike Leader Maygar said. The old Ghornath's brown hide showed a pattern of scars from the wounds he still sported at their last encounter.
It took Lucius longer than he’d liked to form a response. “Good morning, Strike Leader Maygar. I must admit you caught me a bit off guard,” Lucius finally said.
The Ghornath’s brown hide flushed the slightest green shade of amusement. “That is unfortunate, yet perhaps fitting, considering how you caught me off guard at our last meeting, Lucius Giovanni.”
Lucius smiled slightly, “In any case, it is good to see you and your new ship.” The familiarity, Lucius realized, came from the similarities in design to the Gebneyr’s construction. The Ghornath battlecruiser and it’s handful of original crew had doubled Lucius’s firepower when he’d found and recovered the vessel on his first arrival to the Faraday system. “I’m certain there’s an interesting story in its origins.”
“Interesting, indeed. Perhaps we can discuss it at another time,” Maygar answered. “The Ghornath have assisted you with the use of one of our ships. The time has come that we need it and our people returned.”
Lucius nodded, “I understand.” He looked over at Captain Trevors, “Notify Leader Burbeg that he and his ship will be departing soon to rejoin his people.” Lucius frowned, “Recall all of the other Ghornath we’ve got scattered on the other ships.”
He turned to face Strike Leader Maygar, “We’ve picked up around two thousand additional Ghornath refugees and personnel between the liberation of Faraday and a penal work station in the Melcer system. Do you want us to arrange for them to come with you, as well?”
Maygar looked to the side, as if listening to someone's answer. Lucius wondered, briefly, if Fleet Consul Feydeb were the one doing the talking. “Yes. We can arrange for their transportation. I ask that you expedite such operations if possible, Lucius.”
Lucius frowned. The mirror-like silver eyes of the Ghornath gave no hints, and the old alien lacked the impulsive nature that made many of his younger people so easy to read. “Is there a war brewing?”
The Ghornath’s brown hide flushed faintly crimson, as if reminded of something that made him angry. “Not yet.” The alien stared at Lucius as if he wanted to read his mind. “There may come a time… and soon, Lucius Giovanni, that the favor of a loaned battlecruiser must be repaid.”
Lucius nodded, “It’s not something I’ll forget, Strike Leader. Nor the true debt of shame owed to your people over the war with Nova Roma.” Lucius hoped the alien could read the sincerity in his voice. The betrayal of the Ghornath by Nova Roma remained one of humanity’s starkest evils to Lucius. That he’d personally participated in the initial attacks left him to shoulder some of the blame. He felt that way even though he’d had nothing to do with the decision by the Emperor to plunder the alien’s technology.
“Thank you, Lucius. If you don’t mind, I must brief Leader Burbeg, and organize transport for the refugees.” Maygar's brown hide showed the slightest flush of green, which Lucius thought meant pleasure.
“Of course, Strike Leader. Hopefully we’ll speak again soon.”
“I look forward to it.”
***
Halcyon, Garris Major
Independent
July 16, 2403
Garret sat at the table while he sipped at the fresh lemonade made by Martha, Daniel's wife. Daniel had invited him in and in his current state of mind, Garret hadn't been able to find the words to decline. After a long moment, he finally asked, “Let me get this straight. She married my older brother?”
“They started dating right after you left,” Abigail piped up. “There was a lot of gossip about it, too, with how you stormed out of your dad's place after...” she trailed off and shot a look at her father.
Daniel sighed, “The whole thing with him tipping off Nova Corp about the dig site went public right after you left. Your father resigned, but there were a lot of folks who agreed with his decision. We were able to lever Nova Corp against Presidente Salazar to get a little breathing space.”
Garret looked away. He couldn't help a bitter twist to his mouth, “And now Nova Corp is out and President Monaghan is in charge?”
Abigail stood up, “It's not like that at all!”
Daniel sighed, “Things have changed, a bit, since you left. Joe Monaghan isn't working for your father, not anymore. He's actually crossed over to the Restorationist Party.”
Garret just raised an eyebrow.
“Your brother stepped up, after your father resigned. They had a falling out, as well, and your brother backed Joe Monaghan. Jessica is actually an appointee, she works with your brother in organizing our military policy and recruiting allies. The Restorationist Party took over and it was their efforts over the past few years that allowed us to save up enough to hire the War Dogs.”
“And what about Admiral Mannetti? Why is she involved?” Garret asked, with narrow eyes. While he had his own suspicions over the accuracy of Daniel's information, that was more due to how byzantine his father's planning process could be, rather than any distrust of the man.
Daniel looked away, “Are you asking as a mercenary... or as a citizen of Halcyon?”
Garret sighed, “Right now, a little bit of both.” He met the older man's eyes, “You, at least, have to see that she's not exactly good ally material.”
“She isn't,” Daniel said. “But the word is that we've got something that she wants... something she can't take, not without our help.”
“What could be that valuable?” Garret demanded. “The only thing here that valuable was the alien stuff Nova Corp was investigating... and they only ever found the one damaged facility.” He shook his head, “And, I'm sorry, but some archaic tech that might be repaired isn't enough for her.” He looked between Abigail and Daniel for clues. Daniel remained stony faced, but Abigail chewed on her lip and looked like she wanted to talk. “...unless someone found something else.”
“I don't know,” Daniel said, finally, “we've only heard rumors. But Brokenjaw Mountain's been shut down for the past two years. People were very quiet about it, especially while Nova Corp was around. Then, as soon as your folks cleared them out of the sky, there's been a lot of traffic up that way. A brand new road. Construction and excavation equipment. Admiral Mannetti's brought in people, engineers, scientists... they go down that road and none of them come back out.”
Garret shook his head, “This is dangerous.” He thought about the situation for a moment. The old dig site was only thirty miles away from Brokenjaw Mountain, but had been badly damaged by some kind of impact. Brokenjaw Mountain was named for it's distinctive caldera. The massive volcanic plateau around it was a wildlife preserve and refuge and was some of the most rugged terrain on the planet.
Daniel snorted, “Being under that nut job back on Santa Cruz is dangerous. Being subject to Nova Corp and their goons is dangerous. Having a fighting chance? That's just risky.”
“You don't understand,” Garret said sharply. “Admiral Mannetti is easily as calculating and nasty as either of them... and she exists outside the law. She's a pirate, one of the worst, from what I've heard. She's going to try to take whatever it is you people have here and then she's going to loot this place to the ground and maybe just sell the survivors into slavery rather than nuking the place from orbit.” He tried to put every ounce of his sincerity into his voice, yet as he stared at the old man, Garret saw iron resolve on his face.
“We'll deal with her, then, like we've dealt with Amalgamated Worlds, Presidente Salazar, and Nova Corp, ” Daniel said. “But we will have our freedom... or die trying.”
***
Chapter II
Anvil System
Colonial Republic
July 25, 2403
Lauren Kelly followed Mason through the crowded streets. She wondered, absently, if they were still wanted from their last visit here or if that had blown over. Granted, she would bet that Admiral Collae had probably pulled some strings to clear things up.
They were in Port Jita, now, anyway. If she remembered right, each of the towns on Anvil were independent, one reason the planet had such a pirate presence. Four different colonies had been founded here and the three that remained retained rivalry over the system.
Mason stopped outside a large, grim-looking concrete structure. The humidity of Anvil had left stains down the walls and the narrow windows were covered in a green slime that Lauren guessed either survived off the condensation or by eating the plastic coverings. Possibly both, Lauren thought, it is Anvil, after all. The place looked like a prison and not one of the cushy Nova Roma ones, it looked like one of the Colonial Republic hellholes where the only way out was feet first.
Two men in ill-fitting civilian suits stood outside the broad steel door. Lauren's eyes narrowed at the poorly disguised surgery scars on their faces. From the placement, she would guess some kind of communications implants. One of the men nodded at something that no one else could hear and stepped to the side. “Tommy King, Admiral Collae extends his greetings.”
Mason just stood there and shook his head. “He wants to meet with me in there?”
“What's wrong?” Lauren asked softly. She didn't like the ambiance, she'd admit, but she didn't expect Collae to meet them in a nice hotel much less a military conference room. The rogue Colonial Republic Admiral was on the run from his own people, with a bounty on his head in a number of systems. It might have surprised her that he was here at Anvil, except the system was notorious for lax and corrupt security forces. Granted, if the rumors she'd heard were true, he was hailed as a hero in just as many systems. So who knew?
“This is where Tommy King first broke out of Colonial Republic custody,” Mason said, loud enough for the goons to hear. “It used to be Rota Prison, where the PCRA kept Amalgamated Worlds Prisoners of War... the ones they didn't shoot out of hand.”
One of the goons gave a smile, “Admiral Collae says you passed the first test, Captain King.”
Mason spat to the side. “I'm not here to play games,” he said. He looked over at the other one, “I'm not meeting him here. We're going to go check into a nice place, Admiral Collae's dime. Your boss can come find us there.”
Lauren opened her mouth to protest, but he caught her arm and turned her around. “Don't,” Mason said, his voice low. There was a harshness to his handsome face, something cold and alien to his normal relaxed attitude.
“What?” Lauren asked, “We need to meet with him, we can't afford to let him back-stab the Baron...”
“Trust me,” Mason said, his voice low. “He needs us more than he lets on.” He sighed, “And if we went in there, we wouldn't come out. It was a message, of sorts.” His eyes went distant, “Almost no one came out of Rota Prison alive. The handful that did were shattered or mad.”
“What about you?” Lauren asked.
“I didn't come out, I broke out,” Mason said, his jaw clenched in memory. “And a lot of good men died with me on the way.” He closed his eyes and Lauren saw him take calming breaths as they walked. She wondered at that. The Tommy King of legend was a scourge: a man who had led pirate fleets against dozens of Colonial Republic worlds. There was little known about his past, some had said he was a renegade Amalgamated Worlds officer, others said he was the bastard son of Thomas Kaid, the former terrorist leader of the old Provisional Colonial Republic Army. The ones that didn't say he was a hell-spawned demon, she thought wryly. His pirates had looted and destroyed civilian shipping, smashed Republic Liberation Fleet task forces, and even plundered entire cities and colonies.
Yet none of those rumors or myths spoke of the man behind the legend. She had seen that Mason had a history of regret, but also one of pain and loss. Whatever the cause, that pain had clearly sent him on a course of revenge.
Mason continued to lead her by the arm until they were several blocks away. Only then did he release her arm. He looked at her, suddenly self-conscious, “Sorry about that.”
Lauren shook her head. She knew that he had the lead on this and he hadn't hurt her, just confused her. “Not a problem. What's our next move?”
He sighed. “Hotel Ramen, it's on the nicer part of town.” He sighed, “There's someone I need to talk with there, anyway.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, “There may come a point where I'll need to send you to talk with some people... not the kind of people that you might like to associate with.”
Lauren raised an eyebrow, “Really? You think I'll flinch at some unsavory types?” She'd dealt with the rebels of Faraday, the corrupt security forces of Anvil, and her team had gone aboard the Peregrine to secure Admiral Mannetti after her betrayal at the Second Battle of Faraday. She wasn't afraid to deal with scum.
“Not what you're thinking,” Mason said. His gaze went distant, “The folks that Tommy King associated with were... well, some of them barely qualified as human. If I need to assemble some kind of force, I'll be scraping up the dregs of humanity. People that would torture you to death to pass the time.”
“We need people like that?” Lauren asked. She was familiar enough with the uncaring, methodical murder committed by the Chxor. She knew well enough that human monsters were common enough, but she wasn't sure where they would fall in on this.
“We may,” Mason said. “And some of them are more useful than you might think. For that matter, some of the places this might go, some of them may be more useful than I want to think.”
Lauren gave a nod, “Just tell me what to do, I've got your back.”
The nod he gave her was solid, but she still saw the doubt in the back of his eyes. Mason was afraid. Not that she couldn't do the job, but that she would see the darkness in his past and that it would change their relationship. Maybe he should worry a bit more about what kind of relationship we have in the first place, she thought. She liked and respected Mason McGann, despite his past. She felt something of a partnership with him as well, to the point that she wanted to see if it could become something more. But Mason had yet to even suggest anything like that. For all she knew, he viewed her as a companion and little else.
Mason gave her a crooked smile, “Don't get thoughtful on me now, Lauren. Let's get going, shall we?”
Lauren gave him a nod and they stepped back into the crowds.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
July 25, 2403
Baron Lucius Giovanni stretched and yawned as he finished reading through the latest reports. This one, thankfully, detailed some of the good work being done by the engineers and scientists who had come aboard the Dreyfus Fleet.
Lucius marveled a bit at that, once again. Humanity had thought the Dreyfus Fleet lost for almost a century's time. Officially chartered to destroy the renegade psychic Agathan Fleet, the Dreyfus Fleet was built of some of the largest and toughest vessels humanity could build, during the era of Amalgamated Worlds. Besides those massive warships, it had a host of smaller ships to act as scouts and a screen. It had also had large number of transports carrying additional personnel, equipment, and supplies for their stated mission. The Dreyfus Fleet had left Earth and vanished and everyone had presumed it lost, along with everyone on-board.
Unbeknownst to almost all of humanity, the Dreyfus Fleet was actually something of an ark, much like the biblical Noah, designed to preserve something before the coming catastrophe. Admiral Dreyfus, it's commander, had done so off of the warning signs he saw in Amalgamated Worlds, as well as the advise of a psychic precognitive. In his preparations, Admiral Dreyfus had recruited dozens of scientists and hundreds of engineers, doctors, and other experts and professionals. His fleet had sailed not just with the sailors and Marines, but also their families. Two million men and women, with the goal of helping to restart human civilization. Those transports also contained a host of machinery and equipment, some of it built during their time of waiting and others packed away until now.
In the months since they had begun unloading some of that equipment, they had only now begun to construct some of it. The largest construct was also the one they had begun work on first and it was quite possibly the most essential one to their long-term success.
He pulled up the latest progress report and stared at the imagery. The huge solar arrays were almost absurdly simple. The vast swaths of panels took up large chunk of space and they were extremely vulnerable, but the huge power yield produced by the tens of thousands of kilometers of solar array could be turned to something more valuable and condensed. The collider at the core of that construct could produce antimatter, enough to recharge the ships of their fleet and to build munitions for the same. Power was their one limiter and Lucius remembered his near panic when he'd learned that their power reserves were dangerously low.
The ships of the Dreyfus Fleet had no need to stop and refuel their hydrogen tanks. They didn't carry bulk fuel. But they carried dense antimatter matrices, with antiprotons and protons locked away in magnetic binders, so close that a slight shift in the containment field allowed their steady combination to provide energy. Those energy matrices were almost empty, after eighty years at standby levels, despite the additional antimatter they carried just for that purpose. Admiral Dreyfus's engineers had estimated that they had another year before their reserves would become too low to allow their ships to function.
At which point, Lucius thought, we would own the universe's largest target.
There was a black market trade in antimatter. Various systems produced limited quantities of it and it was, very infrequently, naturally occurring. For that matter, the Centauri Confederation used it as the power source for their own vessels. Lucius knew that the Chxor also had a huge antimatter production facility. The issue was bulk. They needed enough to resupply an entire fleet.
Thankfully, they had planned ahead and already had the collider packed away. Production of the solar arrays had taken more time, but they finally had enough that the first production had begun. Within a few months, they would have enough to begin resupplying the vessels in the most need.
The downside being that the antimatter production facility was their logistical weak-link. A significant portion of their vessels and crews had to maintain a perimeter around it. Lucius had heard the arguments from multiple sides in regards to putting it in another star system. The issue, then as now, was their limited number of vessels and the importance of Faraday. Perhaps, as time went on, they would gain other worlds, expand their population, and they could split their essential resources out to a dozen star systems. Right now, however, they just had the one egg basket. The collider and its solar array were one of dozens of projects underway... and they all were vulnerable.
So, the antimatter production facility lay at one of Faraday's Lagrange points, a vast, glittering, crystalline construction which slowly grew in Faraday's night sky.
A baby's wail from the next room jerked his head up and Lucius gave a smile as the wail quieted almost immediately. He stood from his desk and moved into the next room. “She's awake?”
His daughter Kaylee had needed a wet-nurse after her mother did a disappearing act. Nix's people had vetted a few dozen before selecting Emilee Stark. Emilee had lost her husband during the Chxor occupation of Faraday. She had a brand new baby of her own to feed, needed the work, and she had passed a number of loyalty examinations. On top of that, she was a calm, friendly woman, “Yes, Baron, hungry too.” She gave him a slight smile from where she sat. Lucius's recent fatherhood had forced him to choose a different residence, this one an apartment that had an additional pair of bedrooms.
“Thanks, Emilee,” Lucius said. His face softened as he stared down at his daughter. “Let me know when she's done?”
“Of course, Baron, I'm sure she'd love some 'daddy time,'” Emilee said.
Lucius smiled and turned back towards his study.
***
Anvil System
Colonial Republic
July 25, 2403
Lauren answered the room's com-unit just as Mason slipped in from the hallway. “Yes?”
“There is a Colonial Republic officer here to speak with Mr. McGann, shall I send him up?” The concierge's voice was nervous. “He says he is expected.”
“Yes, thank you,” Lauren said. Mason stripped off the dingy leather jacket and scuffed boots. He pulled on his black leather boots and a black silk shirt as she watched. She had to admit, the sight was interesting... particularly with some of his scars. One in particular looked like someone had tried to write their name in his back, a jagged, crooked scar that trailed off his side.
“Admiral Collae is on his way up,” Lauren said.
“I know, I saw him come in the lobby,” Mason said softly. He stepped up to a mirror and ran a comb through his dark brown hair.
“Find who you were looking for?” Lauren asked.
“My friend was right where I left him,” Mason said and turned to give her a crooked smile. He settled his long, lanky form into a comfortable chair. “Better yet, he didn't take much persuasion to talk into helping. It seems the hotel business isn't as satisfying as he expected.”
There was a sharp knock at the door. Lauren popped to her feet and drew her submachine gun. She cocked an eye at Mason, who gave a languid gesture, “Of course, Miss Kelly. Please, do show our guests in.” His voice was pitched just loud enough to reach into the hallway and he had adopted an even stronger lilt to his voice than normal.
Lauren grimaced and moved to the door. She held her gun ready as she twisted the knob and jerked it open.
The two beefy men in uniform in the corridor didn't so much as flinch at the sight of her weapon aimed at them. They both wore the gray uniforms of the Republic Liberation Fleet, but the insignia on their collars marked them as special forces.
“I need to check the room,” one of the gorillas spoke.
Lauren jerked her head to him and he lifted up a complex sensor device. Lauren recognized the model from her training, though she hadn't ever used one since. It was made by Tannis's Proximity Defense Incorporated. From what she remembered it could 'smell' explosive compounds and sense electromagnetic waves from bugs and a variety of detonators and initiators for bombs. She thought that the adapter she saw attached to it was the one that sensed nanotechnology, but she wasn't sure.
The goon made a circuit of the room while Mason sat at his ease. After a complete circuit, he paused and spoke into his comm unit. A moment later, Admiral Collae stepped into the room.
“Ah, Admiral, good to see you,” Mason said. “Sorry that I don't rise, but I've been indulging a bit, charged it to the room tab, I'm afraid.”
“You've a habit of that,” Admiral Collae said, his harsh voice lacked any amusement. “But if you seek to get under my skin, I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that, Captain King.”
“You keep calling me that,” Mason said. “But you keep naming me wrong.”
“You can't have it both ways, Tommy King,” Admiral Collae said, his voice calm and measured. “Either you're playing with the big boys and you acknowledge who you are or you're a two-bit petty smuggler dicking around on a decrepit freighter.”
Mason's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, “Say, for just a moment, that I'm not a two-bit petty smuggler... what message would you have for Tommy King?” Lauren could see that, despite his appearance of relaxation, Mason was tense, his whip-cord muscles ready to snap into motion.
Admiral Collae took a seat in the chair across from him. “I've stated before, Lucretta Mannetti is a threat. More than that I could give you details of her operations.”
“You're doing this out of your benevolence and kindhearted nature, of course,” Mason said, his voice sardonic.
“No. Enlightened self interest would be a more apt description,” Collae said. “She blames me for her imprisonment, even though we both know full well that she planned to betray me as soon as she thought she could take the upper hand. She also thinks that she deserved a share of the Chxor vessels I acquired at Faraday.”
“So you want us to knock her out before she comes for you,” Mason said, eyebrow quirked. “Yet I can't help but think this whole situation is a bit too convenient for you. Set one pirate to fight another and then swoop in to seize the credit.”
Admiral Collae shrugged, “It makes little difference to me who gets the credit. I need Mannetti neutralized. If your associate Baron Giovanni would trust me long enough to hear me out, I would go directly to him with the information.” His harsh voice showed no sign of nervousness or any other particular emotion.
“Amazing, how a little bit of betrayal goes such a long way,” Lauren said. She felt her knuckles clench on the grips for her submachine gun as she thought of how the rogue Admiral had betrayed her mentor. For that matter, the memory of her dead friend, Jessi Toria left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“He betrayed me before I even had the opportunity to betray him,” Admiral Collae said. “He had additional ships positioned to capitalize on the victory and to cut Mannetti and I out, even if I hadn't planned to take advantage of the situation. Your Baron is not nearly so forthright as he pretends.”
“Regardless,” Mason said, “I'm sorry, but I don't think this has much to do with myself and my associate.” He reached over and clenched Lauren's hand before she could speak. “Thank you for your time, Admiral, but Miss Kelly and I will have to decline to get involved... this looks to be a bit too cutthroat for a two-bit petty smuggler with a decrepit ship.”
Admiral Collae grimaced, “Very well.” Lauren could see irritation in his dark eyes. He stood up and stalked out of the room. His two security goons followed.
Lauren moved over and shut the door. She turned back towards Mason, “What was that about? We have to stop her or at least warn the Baron!”
“I know,” Mason said calmly. He sat forward and straightened. “But anything Collae gives us will be a double edged sword. He could guide us away from his own interests while ensuring we attack those of Mannetti or his other allies.”
“Other allies?” Lauren asked.
“She's allied to Collae,” Mason said. “While I'd estimate they hold no real affection for one another, they aren't yet at one another's throats.” He met Lauren's gaze with his own pale blue eyes. “From what my source was able to ascertain, Admiral Mannetti utilizes his resources and contacts within the Colonial Republic, he's her gateway to more legitimate figures within the there... and also to fences who can sell stolen goods further abroad. Admiral Collae uses her as access to more advanced munitions as well as for technology and engineers to refit his ships.”
“Then why is Collae sending us against her?” Lauren shook her head. She'd heard that Admiral Collae was a devious man, yet she couldn't see his angle in betraying an ally. “Is he trying to cut her out of their partnership?”
“They need each other too much, as yet,” Mason said. “Against the value of something like the Dreyfus Fleet, I could see that, but there's nothing near those stakes.” Mason shook his head, “No, there's got to be something else going on here... which is why I don't want to go into this on Admiral Collae's guidance... especially not as Tommy King.”
Lauren nodded slowly, “Why send a broken down old pirate after his own ally...”
“Thanks,” Mason said dryly. “You may have a chance to see if you can keep up with this broken down old pirate.” He let out a sigh, “I just don't trust this... especially how easily he left. But he knows that Tommy King wouldn't go straight at an enemy... not when he could pick them apart.” Mason's gaze went distant and his voice changed in pitch as he spoke, “The handful of times that Tommy King did that it was for good reason.”
“Maybe that's it?” Lauren asked. “Maybe he wants to set you up to go straight at her...” She felt the blood drain from her face. “Maybe you're the prize?”
Mason snorted, “That might be it... but I doubt it. Tommy King hasn't been active enough, of late. He's legendary, but so are a dozen others, and if anything, Mannetti and Collae are seen as bigger scourges these days.” He shook his head, “That might be a piece, but only a piece of a larger puzzle. We'll dig deeper and see what it is... but not as Mason McGann... and not as Tommy King.”
Lauren raised her eyebrows. “So where does that leave us?”
Mason quirked a grin at her, “Have you ever heard of the Dread Pirate Roberts?”
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
July 26, 2403
Lucius walked into the meeting while he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
“Late night?” Admiral Dreyfus asked. The older man looked tired himself.
Lucius shrugged, “My daughter was up, on and off, through most of the night.”
Admiral Dreyfus gave a slight smile, “Those times will pass. Though, later in life, children have other ways to keep their parents awake through the night.”
Lucius nodded at that, suddenly reminded that the Admiral had grown children who had not accompanied him when his fleet departed. He wondered how the Admiral had coped with that separation. Something of his concern must have shown on his face.
“My own children were adults,” Admiral Dreyfus said softly. “And though I wanted to bring them, it would have been too suspicious. To bring them, like some of the families of other senior members of the Fleet, would have drawn too much attention. I was able to warn them...” He shook his head, “In truth, I think I'd grown too distant from them. I spent their childhoods on campaign and they never grew to know me.”
Lucius cleared his throat, “We could try to find out what happened to them...”
“No,” Admiral Dreyfus looked suddenly much older. “Thank you, but Kandergain... did that for my wife and I. My two sons were killed in military action during the sacking of Earth by the Shadow Lords. My daughter still lives. I'm told she runs a ship refit facility in the Tannis system. She has two daughters of her own. I've no desire to reopen closed wounds. She made clear upon my departure that she wanted nothing to do with me.” There was pain in his voice, an old pain that he had come to terms with, but one that hurt, even so. “Perhaps I might feel differently, but my wife was killed in an accident during our time in hiding.” He shook his head, “A shuttle accident. I honestly don't think I could face my daughter without her at my side.”
Lucius looked away. “Very well.” He crossed to the chair and took a seat. Lucius gave the Admiral some time to regain his composure. In that time he studied the wall of the office. The military awards and unit crests on his wall took on another level of importance with the revelation about his past. Dreyfus was a military figure on Nova Roma, one of their heroes. He had a distinguished military career and he had none of the corruption or scandals of most of the senior leaders of Amalgamated Worlds. Yet, in becoming that figure, he had sacrificed ties to his family... and that gave Lucius pause.
He well knew the cost that ambition could have. Lucius's father had betrayed his Emperor, had led a military coup that had ended in failure and resulted in his execution. The coup was ultimately founded upon the fact that Lucius's grandmother had been the lover of Emperor Romulus I and Lucius's father was the product of that affair. Lucius's father had served his half brother, Emperor Romulus II, but upon his death, had sought to seize power from his son. The result for Lucius and his younger sister had been a childhood without parents and being a social pariah for most of his life. That heritage had also almost ended his military career multiple times.
“I wanted to bring up a subject which I fear will be... tender for you,” Admiral Dreyfus said and broke the cycle of Lucius's memories.
Lucius cocked an eyebrow, “Oh?”
“We've continued analysis of logistics requirements for our various ships. Part of that was done as the Gebeynr left, the rest after I ordered a deeper analysis based off of those initial results,” Admiral Dreyfus said. The Admiral met Lucius's eyes. “The Nova Roma ships we're operating use a different set of technology as well as a vastly different set of parts and equipment.”
“You're talking about my old ship, the War Shrike and her sister ship, the Peregrine, aren't you?” Lucius asked.
“Indeed. The Nova Romans are operating the other vessels, predominantly, which means their labor and effort. Which is important, because the different requirements of those ships uses up an additional fifty percent over the equivalent hulls of my own vessels.”
Lucius did the math. The closest equivalent to the two Desperado-class battleships were the Nagyr-class battlecruisers, which were half the size, but of similar speed and armor. If the Desperado-class battleships used half again the resources to maintain, then that meant the two ships used up almost the same resources as an entire squadron of battlecruisers. While the battleships mounted heavier energy weapons of greater range, they did not match the firepower of three battlecruisers, nor the versatility that three such vessels would provide. “I see.”
“We're not to the point that our resources are down to picking between one or the other, but maintaining an entirely separate class of vessels with a completely different stream of parts and equipment is an additional stresser on our logistics.”
Lucius closed his eyes. The decision was an obvious one. The two ships were, technically speaking, not even property of the United Colonies. They were built in Nova Roma shipyards and had never been decommissioned from the Nova Roma Imperial Fleet. It only made sense to give them back to the Nova Roma Emperor in Exile, Emperor Romulus IV. The young Emperor was their ally and giving them the ships would be a gesture of good faith as well as a way to let them deal with refitting and repairing the vessels after the battle against the Balor.
And yet... Lucius had served aboard the War Shrike for over twenty years. In that time, he had risen from XO to Captain. He had commanded that ship against various odds, at times aware that his demise was a certainty... yet his ship and crew had pulled victory out in the end. That single ship had allowed him to possibly turn the course of humanity back from the brink of destruction. Giving her up, even knowing he would never command her again as Captain, was a heavy task. Yet, making those kinds of calls were necessary. He didn't want to see the last of her, but he could at least ensure that the next commander was worthy of the task. For that matter, the Peregrine had served as the rogue Lady Kail's flagship. Lucretta Mannetti, the self-styled Admiral Mannetti, had commanded the ship for almost fifteen years after her own failed plot to seize power in Nova Roma... until Lucius finally got the upper hand when she tried to betray him again here at Faraday. He quirked a smile at Admiral Dreyfus. “I assume the plan is to give both vessels to the Nova Romans and let them crew and equip them?”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded. “From what I understand, they've a wealth of experienced military officers and enlisted from the Melcer raid. Admiral Mund is coordinating their rehabilitation and getting them spun up.” Admiral Dreyfus smiled slightly, “From what I understand, the Emperor is very pleased with some of the personnel they've received.”
Lucius thought of Daniel Beeson and Anthony Doko, who commanded both vessels, “Do we have commands for their officers and positions for their enlisted and junior officers?”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded slowly, “Yes, Baron. We've had extensive casualties from the fight with the Balor. We haven't yet assigned commanders to a pair of our recently repaired battlecruisers, I'm sure we could make the move there.”
Lucius nodded slightly. “Very well. I think...” He sighed and tried again, “I think that the cost of the Desperadoes is such that we should transfer them over to the Nova Roma contingent. They'll be able to crew and maintain them more easily.”
“Thank you, Baron,” Admiral Dreyfus responded.
Lucius sat back in his chair. “Now then, what else did you want to bring up, since you have me by myself for once?”
“What makes you think this isn't all?” Admiral Dreyfus asked, his eyes narrow.
Lucius cocked his head, “While I appreciate you wanting to get me alone for that discussion, you could have done it remotely. There's nothing sensitive in the information about our logistics situation. So that means that you had an ulterior motive, in turn, that suggests that it's both something I won't want to hear... and also something sensitive that you don't want getting spread around.” Lucius kept his voice level, but there were only a handful of things that he thought qualified for this discussion. None of them were topics that he particularly liked to think about.
Admiral Dreyfus smiled grimly, “Well, I guess I'm not quite as smooth as I'd hoped.” He sighed and slid a folder across his desk to Lucius. “We have finished the initial vetting of personnel who might have been behind the escape of your rogue Admiral Mannetti. As you know, whoever was behind it needed access to our codes, uniforms, and schedules.”
Lucius nodded impatiently, yet he didn't allow himself to flip open the folder. He wanted to hear Admiral Dreyfus's explanation before he did so. He was already inclined to disbelieve that any of his people would so betray him. Yet at the same time, there seemed to be no other explanation.
“We've selected ten suspects, based upon their seniority, prior service or contact with Lucretta Mannetti, and a basic background screening of them all,” Admiral Dreyfus said. “Captain Wu has done an excellent and very thorough job. She has not been able to further develop his investigation without authorization to interrogate–”
“No,” Lucius said softly. “There will be no interrogation of suspects. For one thing, if her theory is correct, then this individual fooled the best of Imperial Intelligence and fooled my entire crew and I for the past fifteen years.” He looked down at his feet, “And furthermore, without further proof of betrayal, I won't subject loyal officers to the shadow of disgrace on nothing more than suspicions and conjecture.”
Admiral Dreyfus cleared his throat, “If we have a sleeper agent within our organization...”
“Then he still can do no more damage than if we destroy the trust of our own officers and citizens by detaining them without evidence and of holding and interrogating them without trial,” Lucius said calmly. He was certain of that. He had seen the Imperial Security Bureau transform into an organization of terror in their hunt for Chxor collaborators and rebellious elements. He did not wish to see his own nation's security and military forces do the same.
“Very well,” Admiral Dreyfus nodded. “I can't say I wouldn't chose differently, but that is your prerogative. The names are contained in the list before you, I just ask that it doesn't leave this office.” Lucius flipped back the cover to the folder, not once tempted to push that knowledge off on someone else. If he did have a traitor in his ranks, he needed to know, if only so that he could compartmentalize information more efficiently. He frowned at the list. All of the men and women on that list were people he trusted implicitly. The fact that his sister's name was on the list didn't surprise him, though the very thought of Alanis betraying him for some shadowy cabal made him snort. She was smart and devious, but almost painfully honest. She was on the list because of her access to her husband, Reese Giovanni-Leone who was also on the list. Sadly enough, Lucius could imagine Reese betraying him, if only in regards to their current disagreement over Alanis. After his name was that of Anthony Doko, his longtime XO and now the husband to Princess Lizmadie, Emperor Romulus IV's half sister. A quick glance confirmed part of the reason for his inclusion was his prior service with Lucius under Lucretta Mannetti as Captain of the War Shrike. There was also a note that his marriage to the Princess showed social ambition. Lucius could agree that someone without knowledge of the Princess's personal history might judge the same, but he had seen the affection they developed before her identity was established... before, indeed, she even knew her relation to the Emperor.
Of course, that put Princess Lizmadie on the list, with a note that she could access the information through her relationship with Anthony Doko. Thus far, the implicated suspects were either very close personal friends or family. Hell, Lucius thought, Tony practically is family. The next names on the list were less surprising, but also just as hard to picture. There was Chief Petty Officer Winslow, who had apparently served aboard ship with a young Lieutenant Mannetti. Then there was Captain Naeveus, the former fighter squadron commander for the War Shrike. He hadn't served aboard the ship with her, but he was her distant cousin, a fact which Lucius hadn't even known. Given the... proclivity of some of the Nova Roma elite and nobility, that didn't necessarily mean much. He was distant cousin to the Emperor, yet that hadn't exactly helped him very much.
The last four names were just as unlikely, yet Lucius read through them. Colonel William Proscia, his former Marine Commander had access to the codes, but his only contact was he'd been at a base that Lucretta attacked after she went pirate, long before he served with Lucius. Ensign Tascon was another one of her cousins and was also a communications officer, so might have been able to access the right information. While I'd love for it to be him, Lucius thought, I wouldn't be that lucky. Tascon was a snide, superior ass and his arrogance had received him multiple reprimands from the commanders Lucius put him under. Tascon had applied for a transfer to the Nova Roma contingent just before the Third Battle of Faraday. That transfer had been denied by the Nova Romans rather than United Colonies personnel. From what he'd heard, the young man had already gained something of a reputation.
Lucius was very surprised to see Kate Bueller's name on the list. She was the former leader of the Faraday colony, which had been independent and virtually unknown by most of human space. With the arrival of the Chxor, she'd fled with Lucius along with some sixteen thousand other refugees. Apparently, in her tenure as the Contractor, she'd had approved military sales of weapons which were matched to equipment found aboard the Peregrine after they captured her from Lucretta Mannetti. That seemed extremely tenuous, especially given the rogue officer's history of piracy. Yet it still seemed more concrete than the last. “Seriously, you put Kandergain on here? She was with me when Mannetti escaped.”
Admiral Dreyfus shrugged, “Yes, but she is a psychic. She also had full access to all of us as well as a number of... questionable activities.”
“I'm not considering the mother of my child as a suspect,” Lucius said dryly. “Even if I would... she's not here, so I don't think she's still a viable suspect.”
Admiral Dreyfus shrugged, “I'd agree, but as I said, Captain Wu is thorough.” He sighed, “With your permission, I'd like to authorize her to do some data-mining. She'll focus on off world activities, especially any accounts we can identify as Mannetti's against her records we captured aboard the Peregrine. It's unlikely that we'll turn up any direct connections, but if nothing else, we might gain a bit of forewarning if she starts making a move in our direction again.”
Lucius pursed his lips. “Agreed, that sounds like a good idea.” He stood from the chair and pushed the folder back. “Thank you and as much as I don't like thinking about my friends and family as possible traitors... well, thank you for having someone do the work. As long as we keep this professional and, above all, quiet, I think we might figure out what happened without tearing ourselves apart in the process.”
“Agreed,” Admiral Dreyfus gave him a nod. “Thank you for your time, Baron.”
***
Chapter III
Faraday System
United Colonies
August 1, 2403
Lucius stepped into his office and froze. He knew that there should not be a man seated across from his desk at his ease. For one thing, Lucius knew he had cleared his afternoon of appointments. For that matter, he was certain that the Marine security contingent who secured the apartment complex would have kept any unauthorized personnel away.
For that matter, the man in question wore the oddest attire that Lucius could imagine. His white pants, tall, black leather boots, and red overcoat were all of the style of the ancient British Empire. He had a tri-cornered hat on the small table next to his chair. To top it off, he wore what looked like a flintlock pistol and a saber or sword of some kind on his hip. Lucius stared at him for a long time, certain that he should call in the Marines or something, yet too bemused to do more than stare.
“Oh, hello,” the man said. He stood and extended his hand. “I'm Reginald. It is an honor to finally meet you, Baron Giovanni.” He said it with such a tone of certainty, as if he belonged here, rather than the opposite.
Lucius took the other man's hand. “Why are you in my office?” Lucius couldn't quite find it in him to make it a demand. The other man was far too polite. That didn't mean he wasn't dangerous... it just meant that Lucius felt uncomfortable violating the societal norms by having Marines come in and tackle him to the ground.
“Oh, yes,” Reginald said. “Sorry that I wasn't able to make an appointment with you directly. Your secretary, Miss Cindy, was very polite in informing me that you couldn't possibly see me. A charming young woman, very dedicated. It took quite a bit of effort to get her to clear your afternoon meetings.”
Lucius felt his eyes narrow, “What exactly do you mean by that?” Had this odd fellow found some leverage against his secretary? For that matter, how had he bypassed the layers of security that surrounded him?
“Oh, yes, right,” Reginald said. “Quite understandable, your curiosity. General Mira and Miss Kandergain sent me.”
Lucius felt a shock, “You're a psychic.” That made sense. They had some security precautions against psychic infiltration aboard ship and at other facilities planet-side. Lucius had actually discouraged that kind of paranoia at his own apartments and offices. Probably a sign that I should rethink that, he thought. His eyes narrowed at a sudden thought, “Shaden said he couldn't spare anyone and Kandergain never mentioned you. How can I know to trust you?”
“Well, to be honest, I don't work for General Mira and I answer, more or less, to Miss Kandergain,” Reginald said. He gestured at Lucius's chair behind the desk. “This will take some time to explain, perhaps we could continue this seated comfortably, rather than standing awkwardly?”
Lucius crossed cautiously to his chair and took a seat without taking his eyes off the psychic. “So, you've talked with Kandergain?” Lucius asked. His heart twisted a bit that she hadn't called him or made contact in any fashion. She'd claimed, in her letter, that the Shadow Lords would see her continued presence as a threat... but Lucius wondered that she hadn't contacted him at all.
“I did, though it was a short conversation, I'm afraid,” Reginald said, his voice proper. “We were both running for our lives... she'd just sprung me from Shadow Lord Sanctus's prison cells.”
“What?” Lucius demanded.
“It's a long story,” Reginald said with a little wave. “But once we reached the spaceport, we split up and I came here. She told me to watch over you, to make certain that the Shadow Lords or their emissaries don't get a chance to twist you and to guard you against their assassins.”
“Assassins?” Lucius asked. “You don't think...”
“It's one of their tactics, to strike leaders that they know are too well protected or mentally fortified to be turned, my lord,” Reginald said. “It is what they did to Emperor Romulus I of Nova Roma. Also to much of the Amalgamated Worlds leadership leading up to its collapse.” Reginald frowned a bit, “Though, from what I understand, that was part of their plan all along, they particularly hated Amalgamated Worlds.”
“So are you another one of these old psychics, like Shaden and Kandergain?” Lucius asked, his eyes narrow. He still didn't trust the other man, not without some outside source to vouch for him.
“Oh, heavens no, my lord,” Reginald said. “I'm not nearly so powerful or dangerous as them, and quite a bit younger, I might add.” He sat up straight, his chin raised a bit in pride. “I'm more of a facilitator or organizer... rather than a direct action type. In truth, this is something of an assignment outside my normal skill set... but I'm all that's available at the moment. The Shadow Lords are very active, their agents are pushing us all across human space... and no small number of my companions have fallen in recent weeks, I'm afraid.” His tone was distant, yet his gray eyes held pain in plenty. Lucius gave him a moment to regain his composure.
“So what can you do?” Lucius said as the moment passed. In truth, the admission that the other man wasn't an expert made him more inclined to trust him. It seemed to him that someone inclined to deceive him would claim to be exactly what Lucius needed.
“I'm a telepath, which means I can screen people admitted to your presence for threats,” Reginald said. “It also means I can get messages to others, in case it looks like we really need some psychic muscle.” He frowned. “I can also protect you from the influence of other telepaths.”
Lucius waited. Reginald sat back, an expectant look on his face. Finally, after a long and awkward silence, Lucius asked, “That's all?” It seemed very underwhelming compared to Kandergain's impressive list of abilities.
Reginald looked a little hurt, “My good man, I'm very good at what I do. It is somewhat limited, I must admit, but I'm quite talented compared to the average psychic. I realize you have limited experience with us, but psychics like Miss Kandergain and General Mira are not common, not by any margin.”
“I realize that,” Lucius said. He took a deep breath, “I apologize, I didn't mean to insult you.”
“Right, well,” Reginald gave a nod. “I think it best if I take up some position where I can be present, yet not have any significant role. I can work best if I'm not distracted by the need for interaction. But easy access to the people I'll need to screen and protect would be best.”
Lucius frowned. “I'd assume you can't just...” he wiggled his fingers, “slip in wherever you need to be?”
“It's difficult to maintain that and do other things at the same time,” Reginald said in response. His voice made it plain that Lucius had ruffled his feathers somewhat.
“I'll have to give it some thought,” Lucius said. He sat back in his chair. “I trust you have some way for me to contact you?” Reginald passed him a black hand-held comm unit. “In the meantime, you can let yourself out. I'd planned to use some free time to spend with my daughter.”
Lucius waited until the other man had left before he picked up his personal comm unit. He waited a moment until the number he had dialed connected. “Matthew, yes, glad I could reach you. I'd like a moment with some of your engineers, the ones on loan from General Mira.”
***
587E73 System
Unclaimed Space
August 4, 2403
The Second Chance emerged from Shadow Space in high orbit above a green-brown world wrapped in dingy gray clouds. Lauren stared out the view-ports at the murky world. “You still haven't explained what this has to do with some pirate I never heard of,” she said sullenly.
Mason gave her a smirk, “Not my fault you haven't properly educated yourself.”
Lauren leveled a flat stare at him, but she needn't have bothered, he seemed even more cheerful at her obvious signs of irritation. Sometimes I hate men, she thought, overgrown boys, especially when they have a secret...
“Fine then,” Lauren snapped, “What about our passengers? The lot of them haven't so much as poked their heads out of their rooms.” It was creepy, in a way, how they had all stuck to themselves. They all had the same looks, too, tan skin, dark hair and eyes.
“Them?” Mason asked. “Ah, that I can answer. They're Druze, decent enough fellows, but they keep to themselves. Their elder owes me a few favors, so he loaned some of his boys to come help out.”
“They haven't even eaten any of our stores,” Lauren said.
“They'll arrange for their own food. Like I said, they keep to themselves,” Mason said. He shrugged, “More importantly, they won't talk, not to anyone. Especially not to any of Admiral Collae's men. For that matter, they're good at what they do.”
“Which is what?” Lauren asked, for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Mason didn't respond though, as he brought the light freighter in on a course towards the planet's surface. Lauren frowned, because he seemed to guide it towards a specific spot, though she saw no signs of civilization or even a landing beacon.
Mason's target seemed to be a large island in one of the muddy, marshy seas. As they drew closer, a flashing light lit up on her screen. “Crap, Mason, something down there is targeting us.”
“About time,” Mason muttered. “Alright, what day is it...” He peered at his console for a long moment in thought. He slowly began to type in a string of digits into the communication console.
Lauren looked up as shrill alarms began to blare from the sensor station, “They have us locked!”
Mason waved a dismissive hand at her and then hit send. A moment later, the alarms died and Lauren searched for any sign of their attacker. “What was that?”
“Automated defenses,” Mason said, his voice calm as the Second Chance settled into a hover as the island rose out of the mist. Lauren stared without comprehension at the overgrown hills, covered in gray-green vegetation. She pulled up the sensors and plugged away at them. “Atmosphere is... well, bad. Very thick, looks like almost five atmospheres pressure. Not enough oxygen, though, and way too much carbon dioxide, methane, and even some ammonia. No wonder there's no colony here, they'd have to be buttoned up most of the time.”
“Predators are pretty nasty too,” Mason said. He tapped something on his console and an image appeared on one of Lauren's screens. A large, birdlike creature flew past the Second Chance, the wingspan was over five meters. The huge claws that jutted from it's legs told what its preference of food would be... as did the beak shaped like a can opener. “But we don't need to worry about that for the moment.”
He tapped in some additional commands. The image shifted to a rocky outcropping. Lauren bit back a cry of surprise as the surface of it split. A moment later, part of the hillside folded back, to send up a rush of other birds. Mason smiled a bit as they settled into the hidden hangar. “You didn't pick up anything on the sensors, thermal, visual, nothing?”
“No,” Lauren said. She watched as the hidden hatch closed overhead. A moment later, her sensors reported that the air in the hangar was being swapped out. She turned in her seat. “What is going on?”
Mason stayed silent as he went through the complete shut-down sequence. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, measured and he clearly chose his words with care. “This is a hidden base, one that Tommy King made use of,” he met her eyes. “I haven't shown this one to anyone, not in a very long time. And everyone else I showed this place to is dead.”
Lauren swallowed, “Why show me?”
“Because I trust you,” Mason said. He patted the controls for his ship. “And because if something goes wrong with our mission, you can tell your Baron about this place and maybe someone can make some good use of it.”
Lauren frowned, she didn't know why the Baron would be interested in some hidden base out in the middle of nowhere on an almost uninhabitable world. But she kept quiet, for now.
Mason led the way down and out of the Second Chance. The hangar was huge, from the inside, clearly designed for ships much larger than the small freighter. Mason led the way over towards a personnel hatch. “This hangar can accommodate almost any ship up to the size of a destroyer.”
“This hangar?” Lauren asked.
He gave her a smirk as the hatch opened at their approach. He stepped into what looked like an elevator. There was a complex looking keypad as well as a hand print scanner and a retinal scanner. All of it looked odd, the panels looked old and archaic. Mason tapped in a code and then held his hand to the scanner and put his eye to the retinal scanner. At the same time, he spoke, his voice a sharper, more brusque tone, “Tommy King, access nine seven five three five seven delta three nine.”
“Identified,” A soft voice spoke from overhead. “Please identify additional personnel.”
“New recruit,” Mason said. “Initial clearance.”
“New recruit, identify,” the soft voice said from the ceiling.
Lauren looked over at Mason. He pointed at the scanners. “Just say your name and recruit.”
Lauren put her hand up to the plate and put her eye to the scanner. “Lauren Kelly, recruit.”
“Identified.”
Lauren stepped back and looked around. The elevator had no obvious signs of controls, yet no sooner had she finished stepping back than the elevator went into motion. There was a disconnected feel, as the elevator shifted downwards and then to the side. The motion seemed muffled, almost as if it had inertial dampeners.
“We'll talk more when we get to the command section,” Mason said, his face calm. “The automated security system is a bit touchy.”
“Automated?” Lauren asked. She didn't know why so much about the base was automated. For that matter, she didn't know how a pirate, even a legendary pirate like King, had assembled that kind of setup. Automated security, even the simplest, wasn't cheap. For that matter, building it and keeping it a secret would be difficult, at best.
Mason nodded, “It's hard to get trustworthy help, you know.”
The motion settled to a stop. “Identify.”
Mason went through the procedure a second time, followed by Lauren. The doors opened out into a utilitarian corridor. It was clearly underground. Piping and conduits ran along the ceiling. The lighting came on just after the doors opened. Lauren caught the sound of other machinery activating as they strode down the corridor.
Lauren made careful note of the path they took, as they went down several identical access corridors and Mason led the way without pause. The place seemed like a warren and the echo of their footsteps carried off into a number of empty passages. She would hate to be lost down here, especially in the dark.
They finally came to a stop in front of a large, vault-like access hatch. Written in bold letters across it was the word 'command.' It was also labeled in what looked like Chinese symbols and Cyrillic. Bright orange lettering warned 'authorized personnel only' and as Lauren looked around, she noticed hatches in the floor and ceiling around the door, the sort of hatches that would hide retractable weapons mounts.
Mason stepped up to the access panel. He repeated his previous cycle. Then, while Lauren watched, he typed in an additional code. “Command, allow temporary access to Recruit Lauren Kelly.”
“Temporary access granted,” the soft voice spoke from overhead. “Please note, temporary access is only good for forty-eight hours. You will be required to be read-on to the project, sign the waivers, and be fully in-processed by that time, is that understood, Recruit Kelly?”
“Uh, yes?” Lauren said.
“Your acceptance is binding under Amalgamated Worlds regulation seven, chapter five, paragraph three,” the automated voice said. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Lauren looked over at Mason, “Amalgamated Worlds?”
He quirked a smile at her. “Go ahead and scan in and we can go inside. I can explain it all much better from there.”
Lauren entered her retinal and hand scan and spoke her name. A moment later the hatch behind them snapped shut and the access hatch in front of them ground open. Lauren looked over at Mason. “This process seems a little slow. What would happen if someone outside needed to get to command in a hurry, like in an attack?”
Mason shrugged, “There used to be a duty roster. Someone with full access was always on duty inside in case of emergency.” He shrugged, “As you can see, the facility is a little understaffed at the moment.”
They stepped through the hatch and Mason led her down several other corridors and then finally into what was obviously a command room. Mason swiped a hand over a set of panels and the whole room began to come to life with lights and the hum of machinery. He pulled up a console and typed in a command, then gestured Lauren over to it. “This is the read-on and the waivers. Just flip next all the way through it, no one bothered to read it even when this place was fully operational.”
Lauren glared at him. “How about an explanation?”
“I'll get to that,” Mason said. “But I need to deactivate some fail-safes I left. And unless you want to put this planet into a nuclear winter, perhaps you'll let me take care of business?” He turned away before she could respond. Lauren sat down at the console and started to read through the read-on. It was, as far as she could tell, complete legalese gibberish. She tried to follow it, even so, but got lost somewhere where it referred to 'signee agrees to the appointment of the signee's assignment.' After that, she did what Mason had suggested and just hit next until it got to the point where it asked for her voice and biometric verification.
That task completed, she found Mason on his way back. “Good, you're in the system now. You're now listed as a Lieutenant with full access to the facility. Congratulations on your promotion.”
“I'm assuming that's a Lieutenant in the Amalgamated Worlds Fleet?” Lauren asked, with narrow eyes. He gave her a sardonic salute in response. “Just what is this place?”
Mason leaned back against the console. “You heard the explanation about the Dreyfus Fleet, right?”
Lauren nodded, slowly. “They were a sort of ark, to protect and safeguard humanity after Amalgamated Worlds fell.” That was what she'd heard anyway. She'd been a bit more focused on her decision to leave with Mason rather than the story of the Dreyfus Fleet, however.
“Yeah,” Mason nodded. “Well, Amalgamated Worlds didn't know about them. As far as they knew, the Dreyfus Fleet was just as lost to them as the Agathan Fleet.” He gestured at the command consoles around them. “This is sort of a time capsule or maybe a rabbit hole, for a similar purpose.” He snorted, “Well, not so humanitarian as Admiral Dreyfus. Think more that the elite of Amalgamated Worlds wanted someplace they could retreat to... live comfortably, and then reemerge to restake their claim.”
“So, how does Tommy King have access?” Lauren quirked an eyebrow.
“Well, that's a question for another time,” Mason said. “But we aren't even here for what Amalgamated Worlds left. We're here for something that Tommy King put here, a few years back.” He activated the main display and then brought up the feed from a hangar.
Lauren blinked, confused for a moment. A large, harshly angular ship took up most of the hangar. It had a sleek look, despite the harshness of it, and it tapered back to the engine pods in a way that looked vaguely predatory. The ship had no turrets, she saw, but she saw what looked like armored bands that ran along the ship's top and flanks. The ship and hangar both seemed difficult to bring into scale, until she realized that the small dots along the side were access hatches. “What is that?” Lauren demanded. The ship had to be over three hundred meters in length at least, which meant it was much bigger than a destroyer. Her knowledge of the scale of warships was somewhat limited. She guessed it was a custom built vessel of some kind, though she couldn't guess where it was built.
“It's a cruiser, the Kraken,” Mason said. “It is somewhat infamous as the flagship of the pirate Stavros Heraklion. He's a known enemy of Tommy King. They had something of a very public, longstanding feud. Stavros would be just the kind of scum to sign on with some of Mannetti's allies and if he made himself useful, she might just bring him and his crew into her inner circle.”
Lauren frowned, “So we're going to take that ship and go try to join up with Admiral Mannetti?” She brought up the obvious question, “What happens when Stavros objects to the use of his name... and ship?”
Mason gave her a level look.
“Ah, so I guess Stavros won't be an issue,” she said. She gave a sigh, “Fine then, what about this Dread Pirate Roberto, or whoever he is, what does he have to do with this?” She glared at Mason as he burst out with laughter. As his laughter continued, she started towards him, fists clenched.
He raised one hand as she advanced, “Roberts. That's Dread Pirate Roberts. And all shall be clear in due time.”
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
August 5, 2403
“Glad you finally had time to check things out up here,” Matthew Nogita said as Lucius stepped off the shuttle. “Got a lot going on, as you know, but I know it means a lot to the folks working up here to have you visit.”
Lucius frowned a bit at that. He really should have made time to visit before now, it was just that things were so damned busy. “Not a problem. I'd like to meet with those two engineers that General Mira loaned us, but I should have made time for this before. I'd assume you have some kind of presentation prepared?”
Matthew gave him a smile, “We could do that, but I figured you'd want to see what we're working on first hand. For that matter, I think the workers would like to see you.”
Lucius gave a nod. “Sounds good.” Matthew continued down the corridors and Lucius took a silent moment to study the man. On Lucius's first arrival to the Faraday system, Matthew Nogita had run a machine shop and small ship construction facility which barely scraped by, plagued by the monopolistic competition which sought to cut him out. Lucius had partnered with the man as a method to produce his fighters from other resources. Since then, the man had continued to impress him with his abilities. Matthew was taller than Lucius, of average height. His skin was pale from time spent indoors or working here on the new station, his dark hair was cut close and his green eyes still held the same confidence that had made Lucius trust him. He walked with a purpose, his shoulders back with pride and set with determination. Matthew was not one to let a job set idle... especially not an important one.
The station was a product of that determination, Lucius knew. Matthew Nogita had taken over the project, coordinating between the Faraday contractors, the various refugee businesses, and the military engineers of the Dreyfus Fleet. They had put together the first pieces of the station only weeks after they recaptured Faraday. It had since expanded to include the nascent shipyards. From what he'd heard, there were plans to establish defensive systems, to include a defense screen and interceptor systems as well as a fighter bay. The constant expansion had required an authority figure to oversee... and Matthew filled that role perfectly.
Matthew paused outside, “Baron, I've got a few things to set into motion, but as soon as you finish up here, have one of your escort comm me and I'll be right down.”
Lucius gave the other man a nod and then turned to his Marine escort. “Wait out here. Make sure we're not disturbed.” The Marine NCO frowned at that, but he gave a reluctant nod. The station was one of their most secure areas, everyone aboard had been vetted through multiple levels of security. Lucius should, in theory, be safe in a room with anyone aboard.
Lucius stepped into the conference room and gave the two engineers a smile. “Thank you for meeting with me, gentlemen,” Both looked tired, but they smiled in response. Lucius hadn't yet met either of them, though Shaden had told him they were both very good at what they did.
The first man was short, had receding brown hair, and blue, bloodshot eyes, “Yes, you see, I'm very glad we've finally got the opportunity to talk to you. You see, there's so much more effort we could use on this project.” He had a high pitched voice for his frame, heavyset without being obese.
“Rory, You should tell him about the issues with power generation,” the other one said. He was taller, skinny, and with lank, brown hair. His voice was monotone, with a heavy Centauri accent.
“Don't interrupt me, Feliks,” Rory said sharply.
“Fine, don't tell him about the power generation issues,” Feliks muttered.
“I will tell him about the power generation issues... if you'll let me get to it!” Rory said, with a tone of exaggerated patience. “Sorry, sir.” He took a deep breath, “As I was saying, it's excellent that you finally have the time to meet with us so that we can discuss the project.”
Lucius frowned. “Which project is this?”
Rory gave an exasperated sigh, “Haven't they passed on my briefings? I spent sixteen hours preparing the last one.”
“Sixteen hours?” Lucius asked. He looked between the two men. “Look, before we get into this, I'd just like to ask a simple question.” He frowned, “Do either of you know a man named Reginald, who may work with General Mira and possibly Kandergain?”
“With Kandergain?” Rory asked. “Wow, that's a vague question. She's always zipping across the universe. She's a cute one, you know? I once helped her out to repair her ship, she had an issue with the shadow space drive. Really interesting woman...”
Feliks cleared his throat. Rory let out a sigh, “Yes, right, uh, Robert... doesn't ring a bell.” He looked expectantly at Lucius, “So, about this project...”
Lucius rubbed at his eyes. Of course, the engineer they sent would be attracted to the mother of his child. “You're certain you haven't heard either of them talk about a Reginald?” Lucius asked.
Feliks frowned, “The name does sound familiar.”
Rory shook his head. He sounded exasperated when he spoke, “No, Feliks, you're thinking of Roderick, you know, the strike team leader?”
“No, that's Roger,” Feliks said. “And he's a pilot.”
Rory cocked his head, “You know, I think you're right.” He looked back at Lucius and snapped his fingers, “Now I got it! Reginald, odd fellow, works with Kandergain!”
“So he does work with Kandergain?” Lucius asked.
“Yes... well, I think so,” Rory frowned. “He showed up one time just before a battle at Sigma Six...”
“Corthan Five,” Feliks interjected.
“It couldn't have been Corthan Five, because we didn't have the Mark II phased radar systems on the fighters yet,” Rory said. His tone of exasperation seemed only words away from meltdown.
“Right,” Feliks said, “Because you retrofitted them on for the battle at Sigma Six, because the Mark I didn't work against the Balor jamming.”
Lucius cleared his throat.
Rory looked back, “Yeah, right. Um, so... Roderick.”
“Reginald,” Lucius said, his voice level only with intense concentration.
“Reginald!” Rory nodded. “He dresses really odd... which isn't too unusual for psychics, I think they're all a bit loopers, even Kandergain, cute as she is.” Lucius silently reminded himself that he needed the engineer and that venting him out an airlock, while rewarding in its own way, would be counterproductive. He wondered, though, if Shaden had left him the pair as some kind of joke. “Well, anyway, he dresses almost medieval, with a red overcoat and big black boots.”
“Oh, sword,” Feliks said.
“Yeah, and a sword, what's up with that?” Rory asked.
Lucius sighed. “Okay, thank you.” He turned to leave.
Rory hurried over and blocked his exit, “Wait, what about the project?”
Lucius grimaced, “You've got five minutes. After that, whatever you can fit in while Matthew Nogita gives me the tour.”
“Right,” Rory said quickly. “So we're working on salvaging and repairing the Balor ships. Some of them are in remarkably good shape, other than damage from the boarding crews. I mean seriously, your Marines should almost be brought up on charges for what they did to some of those ships...”
Feliks moved up next to Rory and nudged him. “Yes, as I was saying, they're in great shape. We're pulling out all the stuff we don't need, we're working on repairs, which are a lot easier than you'd expect.” He held up his hands and gestured excitedly, “You see, the ships are almost organic in nature. Given a supply of power and input raw materials, they can repair a lot of their own systems over time. It's actually quite funny because when we pull some systems out, we have to counter their repair mechanisms or else they'll try to eject our modifications...”
Lucius cleared his throat impatiently.
“Right, time,” Rory said quickly. “So we're doing the repairs and modifications, making them functional for human crews. Which is not an easy task. Different air mix, adding lighting, adjusting all kinds of control systems, since the Balor are psychic and we can't even link with their neural networks without going insane...” He shook his head, “Trust me, that's a bad idea. Really bad headache. Anyway, everything is underway... but we're running into some issues with the Balor power plants.”
“What about them,” Lucius asked.
“Well, they're not like ours. I have this theory that they tap directly into shadow space and use the energy differential between normal and shadow to power... well never mind. They're much more powerful than anything we've got. Way higher energy density, higher even than antimatter. Which wouldn't be a problem, except...”
“The Balor reactors are all damaged,” Feliks said.
“I was getting to that, thank you, Feliks,” Rory snapped. “But yes, he's right. Now, see my theory is that because the ships are self-repairing that given enough power the reactors could repair themselves.”
Lucius frowned. “How much power?”
Rory shrugged, “Well, quite a bit actually. Almost the full output of your solar array as it is now...”
“To repair one of the reactors,” Feliks muttered.
“But that should allow us to bring that reactor online fully to repair that ship much more rapidly, perhaps even get it up and functioning,” Rory said quickly.
“Have you brought this up to Matthew Nogita?” Lucius asked.
“Well, yes,” Rory said. “He suggested I run a simulation to show the results.”
“Don't you have more empirical evidence?” Lucius asked. “I mean, you've repaired that Balor battlecruiser of Shaden's right?”
Rory and Feliks both held up their hands defensively, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on there. Now, granted, we got that ship up and running, but its damage was way less than any of the ships your men hit. All of them suffered damage to their reactors, either from battle or whatever your Marines did boarding.”
Lucius frowned, “So, you don't know that this will work?”
“The theory is sound,” Rory said, his light voice nervous. “I would say there's a ninety percent–”
“Fifty percent,” Feliks muttered.
“Seventy percent chance of success,” Rory said as he waved a hand through his thinning brown hair.
Lucius frowned. “Run your simulations past Matthew. If he's satisfied, we'll go from there.” He paused in thought. “I'm not entirely clear on what salvage you're working on or what your priorities are. You said you prepared a briefing?”
“Yes,” Rory said. “If you have four hours, I can give you the short version.”
“I don't,” Lucius said. He suddenly realized just why he hadn't seen anything on their project. “For that matter, I don't have anymore time here. Get with Matthew Nogita, he'll direct you what kind of report I have time to see. Thank you,” Lucius said.
“I told you, you should have made the report shorter, two hours would be enough time, Rory,” Lucius heard Feliks mutter as he left the room.
***
“Hey boss, find out the information you wanted?” Matthew asked as Lucius stepped into his office.
Lucius snorted. “Yes. It was something of an experience though.”
“I bet,” Matthew shook his head. “Those two are smart, smarter than your old engineer, Harbach, but it's like wrangling kittens to keep them on track.” He frowned, “Have they told you about the Balor ships?”
Lucius nodded, “Yes. I hadn't realized there was the the issue, however. What's your opinion?”
“Boss, I don't think we know enough about those ships and tech to make a decision like that right now,” Matthew said. “Everyone else, including Harbach, who has looked at those power plants think that the reactors are either in standby or low on whatever fuel they have.”
“Are there fuel tanks?” Lucius asked.
“We don't know,” Matthew said with a grimace. “My theory, which is also James Harbach's theory, is that the reactors are like the antimatter plants in the Dreyfus Fleet. They have some finite power capacity, like a battery, and they slowly run down.”
Lucius cocked an eyebrow. “All of them at once?” he asked.
“That's where Harbach and I disagree. He says they used up significant power when we attacked, maybe as a result of the impacts on their shields they were drained at a rapid pace,” Matthew said. Lucius frowned at that, it made a sort of sense, but that would mean their shields were extremely energy intensive, perhaps pointing to a critical vulnerability that could be exploited. “My theory is that the crews drained the power plants so the ships would be useless if we managed to capture them.”
“Why not just scuttle them then?” Lucius asked.
Matthew licked his lips, “That's what I discussed with Rory and Feliks. They mentioned how small the Balor fleet is... and from what it sounds like, they would hesitate to destroy any of their own ships if there were any chance they could recapture them.”
“Okay... I'll buy that. So what's the downside to hooking up their reactor to our solar array?” Lucius asked. He could see how each of the theories sounded plausible. What he lacked was the expertise to chose one. This is why I hate alien artifacts and technology, Lucius thought. The human race had come across the ruins of a half dozen alien civilizations, some of them more advanced than humanity even at the peak of Amalgamated Worlds. Artifacts from those civilizations ranged from pottery shards to complex weapons. There were stories about alien ships that came to life at a touch after ten thousand years of inactivity and fantastic weapons that worked once before crumbling. Lucius would prefer to stick to technology that humans understood... or at least, that they could reverse engineer.
“Well, that's the issue,” Matthew said. “We don't know what's going on inside those reactors. We can't open them...” He saw Lucius open his mouth and raised one hand, “Trust me, boss, we can't. We've tried everything up to and including shaped high explosives charges. We can't even put a scratch on the outer containment core. Application of anything more powerful might well destroy what we're trying to see... or worse, react with whatever is inside.” Matthew sighed, “Boss, since we don't know what's going on inside, we absolutely don't know what charging it with the power from our solar array might do.” He shrugged, “It might charge it like a battery, or jump start it like Rory said... or it might react with whatever is inside and cause a critical failure.”
Lucius nodded. “Okay, I guess I can understand your reluctance to do that.” He would bet that one of Dreyfus's military engineers might be more willing to experiment if they needed to. But since they were working ship design and construction, he didn't want to pull any of them away. For that matter, Dreyfus had mentioned his covey of scientists, perhaps this was a project for one of them. “None of those ships are the main priority, right now. Well... not beyond studying them and implementing any improvements we can make in our next generation of ships, anyway,” Lucius said. He glanced at the cluttered desk, “How are the other projects?”
Matthew snorted, “Busy. Very busy.” He went to his desk and took a seat. “The main issue is balancing infrastructure against repairs and new construction. We just finished overhauling the Crusader's decoys, thankfully that wasn't a lot of work.” Lucius nodded at that. The Dreyfus Fleet's Crusader-class ships each mounted three decoy drones, each good for around ten minutes of continuous operation or longer when staggered as part of a jamming and defense plan. Each of them was the size of a cruiser... which meant that they were still positively tiny against the bulk of one of the Crusaders. Each of the decoys mounted enough drives, power plants, emitters, and even limited defense screens so that they appeared identical in emissions to one of the huge ships. Only a visual scan or a very detailed emissions scan could tell the difference for the short duration that they could operate. Given that the Balor's sensors were psychic based, the decoys had gone entirely unscathed during the Third Battle of Faraday, which meant that their limited power sources needed to be replenished and some of their power conduits replaced. Having those back meant that they could be used against a foe more likely to be fooled by them during an engagement... and anything that drew fire away from their precious ships was good. “We've got the civilian yard finished and we've laid down the first hulls already.”
“Really?” Lucius asked. He would have expected the priority to be military hulls.
“Really. Mining ships and ore transports. They'll be harvesting the wreckage of the various Chxor forces first, then go to work on the Balor wreckage too small to salvage,” Matthew said. “After they finish all that off, then they'll work the asteroid belts. We're going to need a lot of raw materials, not just for your military ships, but also for rebuilding on Faraday, establishing a strong merchant marine, and building more infrastructure.”
“Sounds complicated,” Lucius said. He had heard there was a push to privatize a lot of the infrastructure that they had accumulated. While he knew that would make sense economically, he felt uneasy about letting those resources go while engaged in a war of survival.
“It is,” Matthew said. “But that's why you pay me the big bucks.” He frowned, “I'm slowly shifting my work load over to the civilian side of things. Some of that is personal preference... but some is friction with the Dreyfus Fleet personnel.”
“Oh?” Lucius asked.
Matthew shrugged, “It's not personal. I get along with them, well enough. But there's this tendency on their parts to view our stuff as inferior. Some of it is, but a lot of our tech is perfectly functional... just not the way they're used to. For that matter, I swear the weapons tech from Nova Roma is better than their energy weapons... but it's a fight that I can't win on my own.”
Lucius frowned. “I thought you and Harbach were involved in the military designs?” That was what he and Admiral Dreyfus had discussed, anyway.
“We were, but we kept being overruled, sometimes in some rather odd areas,” Matthew said and Lucius heard an edge of frustration in his voice. “Little things, at first. Power conduit designs, redundant communications...” Matthew said. “By the time we got to the serious systems design... it was like we were shut out.”
“I see,” Lucius frowned. “I'll look into it.”
“Well, I don't want to get anyone in trouble,” Matthew said. “But I feel like we had more to offer... and, well, you know how Harbach reacts to being ignored.”
Lucius winced. James Harbach was a self-centered, egotistical, and annoying man. The former professor of engineering had arrogance enough to spare and not a shred of humility. If he even suspected that he'd been slighted, then he would have become insufferable. “Well, like I said, I'll look into it. In the meantime–”
A shrill of alarms cut Lucius off. Matthew looked suddenly pale, “That's the combat stations alarm.” A moment after he spoke, Lucius's Marine escort rushed in. “Sir, we've got to evacuate you...”
Lucius cut him off with a wave, “Take me to station command.” The last place he wanted to be in any kind of space battle was aboard an unarmed shuttle. Even as big an unarmed target as the station was somewhat better... or at least, easier to defend. Besides, he wouldn't evacuate before he had some estimation of the situation.
He followed Matthew as the other man led the short distance to the station command center. The room was much smaller than he had expected. Only a half dozen consoles ran the entire station. It was a sharp contrast to even a small military ship... and Lucius noted that, other than the key code, the command center had no real security. Something I need to bring up, he thought. One deranged worker or angry coworker could do extensive damage from here, even discounting the potential of a saboteur or terrorist.
The center display showed the icons of a number of military ships. Lucius immediately identified the positions of the Dreyfus Fleet, dispersed to provide defense coverage for Faraday, the station, and the solar array.
It took him a bit longer to read the information on the enemy vessels. They were human ships and from the limited emissions read that Lucius could make out on the civilian display, probably from the Colonial Republic. They were also far out, well out of energy weapon range and just on the edge of sensors range. That, however, did mean they were well within missile range, which they demonstrated a moment later.
The missiles they launched didn't have the acceleration of Nova Roma missiles, much less that of the Balor. But they were coming in fast enough and at a wide array of targets from the broad spread. Lucius went to the communications panel, “Put me through to Admiral Dreyfus, command frequency.”
He waited a moment until he finally heard Admiral Dreyfus's voice, “Baron, are you aboard the station?”
“Yes, I'm here. The station's sensors show a missile launch, can you confirm targets?” Lucius asked. His eyes roved the display. The enemy ships maintained a low acceleration towards the planet and Lucius wondered at their approach vector. If they intended some kind of suicidal attack, then they were coming in too slow, with too much time for the defenders to prepare.
“Multiple targets. At least four cities on the planet are targets, we're still refining data. They've also targeted the station and the solar array. We counted fifty missiles at launch, some are quiet and coasting, others are active and homing... looks like a variety of targeting priorities and packages,” Admiral Dreyfus said. “Their acceleration parameters match your data on Colonial Republic Liberation Fleet munitions.”
“Don't trust that,” Lucius said. “Pirates and the RLF splinter factions sometimes mix in some more advanced munitions with their other weapons and use the older stuff as chaff to thin out our defenses.”
“Noted,” Admiral Dreyfus growled. “We're still trying to identify ships. Looks like a mix of Defiance-class destroyers, Hammerhead class corvettes, and a pair of Liberator-class light cruisers.” The mix sounded like what a renegade Colonial Republic officer might marshal, one like Admiral Collae. Though I would like to think he's too calculating to go for a revenge attack like this, Lucius thought. The other man was frighteningly capable and if this attack was orchestrated by him, then it would probably have multiple angles.
Lucius calculated the time for the incoming missiles. He didn't have time to make it to his shuttle and down to the planet or to one of the warships, not before that missile wave made it, anyway. He saw the ready fighters launch. He noticed that the Nova Roma ships got their fighters out a full minute before the first launches from the Dreyfus Fleet ships. Fighters are still a secondary weapon system to them, Lucius reminded himself. It was a mental habit that he would have to break them of... probably with heavy drilling.
In theory, the fighter screen should stop the majority of the inbound missiles. The ships of the Dreyfus Fleet should be able to stop the remainder. Still, that left a large room for error, especially if the missile salvo was only a decoy. “Admiral Dreyfus, are we still conducting full scans on the far side of Faraday?”
“Yes, Baron,” Admiral Dreyfus's tone was irate. He didn't like Lucius looking over his shoulder, joggling his elbow. Which, Lucius understood. But, as much as Lucius trusted Admiral Dreyfus, he didn't like being helpless.
If only I were aboard the War Shrike, Lucius thought. He would have the information at his fingertips. He could act on his hunches.
Dozens of new icons bloomed on the display. The civilian sensor tech went white and looked over to Matthew. “Missile separation from the fighters,” Lucius said calmly. He watched as the two flights of missiles closed. In a full battle, the Dreyfus Fleet could have launched hundreds of fighters and thousands of interceptor missiles. But they were on standby, with crews on downtime and weapons systems down for maintenance and repairs from the battle with the Balor. The ready fighters should be enough.
Yet, as the interceptor missiles closed in, some of the enemy missiles burst into higher acceleration and sharper evasive patterns. Lucius pursed his lips as a dozen enemy missiles eluded the interceptor fire. Those are very good missiles, he thought grimly.
Yet his gaze flicked across the screen, to the raiding ships which continued their slow pace. Observation made sense, he knew. Yet he couldn't shake the idea that while those ships closed, big, fat, obvious targets, something else waited.
Lucius's gaze went to the glowing icon of the solar array. That was the obvious target. Even one missile or energy weapon could tear the delicate lattice apart. The collider buried at its heart was an even better target, Lucius knew. Yet none of the enemy's advanced missiles tracked on that target, he saw. All twelve headed towards the planet and the station, from the updated feed and plot.
Lucius's eyes narrowed, “Do we have any sensor probes?”
Matthew shook his head, “No, boss, those are still being manufactured ground-side.”
“What about any kind of sensor systems, anything we could do a full sweep with?” Lucius demanded.
“Nothing,” Matthew said.
Lucius pursed his lips. He could be wrong, but he might also be right. And the Dreyfus Fleet wasn't positioned to help... he turned to the communications officer. “Open a channel to the Emperor Romulus.”
He waited a moment. Finally he heard a gruff voice, “Admiral Mund.”
“Admiral, this is Baron Lucius Giovanni. I need to ask you to do a full active sensor sweep of the area near the solar array. Particularly reverse vector from the inbound missile tracks,” Lucius said.
“Baron, this is Emperor Romulus. I must remind you that we are a sovereign nation, your ally, not a subordinate,” the Emperor said. His young voice was cold.
Lucius bit back a curse. He took a deep breath and spoke slowly, “Your Highness, I suspect there is a vessel with stealth capabilities in that area, maneuvering in position to fire on the solar array. As your ally, I'd ask that you conduct a full sweep. The ships of the Dreyfus Fleet are currently out of position. I'm aboard the station and have no ability to do so myself, so I ask for your assistance.
“Of course, Baron Giovanni, we'd be glad to help,” Emperor Romulus IV said.
A moment later, the Nova Roma vessel icons lit up. They scanned for what seemed like an eternity until a baleful red icon appeared. Lucius snarled, “Got the bastard!”
The enemy ship was positioned only thirty thousand kilometers from the solar array, hopefully well outside its effective energy or projectile weapons range. Yet, no sooner had it appeared than a dozen icons blossomed, half headed for the array and the other half curved in an arc towards the station. Lucius winced at the missile drive accelerations, transmitted from the Nova Roma ships. The missiles would arrive in only two minutes to the solar array.
Lucius saw the Nova Roma ships begin to shift position. “Emperor Romulus, this is Baron Giovanni. Priority one is protection of the solar array. The station is secondary. I repeat, protect the solar array.”
There was no answer for a long moment, “Acknowledged, Baron.” The Emperor's voice sounded tense, but also determined. The Dreyfus Fleet was out of position to attack the inbound missiles before they struck the array. But, the enemy had launched too soon. His missiles would strike staggered with the other flight, enough, perhaps, that Admiral Dreyfus could engage one and then the other rather than all at once.
Eighteen missiles, Lucius thought, just eighteen missiles in the wrong place at the wrong time might leave my forces unable to fight. No sooner had he thought that then the Nova Roma ships began to fire on the inbound missiles. The first two died in blossoms of electromagnetic noise, which told Lucius they carried antimatter warheads. They, no doubt, left pinprick flashes of intense light as well in the night sky of Faraday.
Even one of those warheads would completely destroy the array, Lucius knew. The Nova Roma ships, even caught by surprise, had to stop them all. Two more missiles died, short of their target, yet the fact that it took so much fire to kill them told Lucius that they must have extremely advanced evasive systems. The last two shot past the Nova Roma ships, but one died in the process. The last one tracked in towards the solar array. Lucius held his breath as he watched the last missile close with the platform. The icon vanished only a few thousand kilometers shy of its target.
“Baron, we need to evacuate you,” Matthew said, his voice nervous.
“What?” Lucius's gaze went to the screen. The Nova Roma ships had stopped the missiles headed for the solar array, but they had only just begun to fire on the inbound missiles headed for the station. Five slipped past their fire.
Lucius's gaze went to the Dreyfus Fleet. They were too far out to safely fire their interceptor cannons and their parasite frigates had only begun to detach from the massive ships. We need better dispersal, Lucius thought. Their defense was designed around a large attack by the Chxor, not a quick raid by someone else. “No, there's no time to leave and I won't abandon your crews,” Lucius said. He watched as the five missiles skimmed across the upper atmosphere of Faraday.
“Active radar!” the sensor officer said. “The missiles are hitting us with active radar!” Alarms sounded and Matthew turned to the intercom, “All personnel, this is Matthew Nogita, commence evacuation...”
“Belay that,” Lucius snapped.
“Baron, we have to evacuate, there's no way they can stop those missiles in time!” Matthew said. Lucius ignored him and rushed to the engineering panel.
“Jettison the fusion reactor core, on my mark,” Lucius said, his voice calm.
The station engineer blinked up at him in shock.
“It's our only hope!” Lucius snapped. The engineer unlocked the panel and flipped up the clear plastic cover. Lucius glanced at the sensor display and judged the distance. “Do it.”
The engineer hit the switch. The lights flickered and died. The consoles went dark. For a long moment, they sat in darkness. The emergency lighting came online. Some of the panels flickered and then came online as the battery power came on.
Lucius waited. The clock ticked onward. There was no bright flash of light or scream of air rushing out. They were still alive... for now.
The communications officer looked up, “Uh, Baron, Admiral Dreyfus.”
Lucius walked over to the console, he picked up the offered headset, “Baron Giovanni.”
“You gave me quite the scare, Baron,” Admiral Dreyfus said, his voice dry. “Good move by the way. The reactor's detonation scrambled the missiles radar long enough to generate a miss. That gave us time to get close enough to pick them off.”
Lucius felt the knot of tension between his shoulder blades ease. “Excellent. Did we engage the enemy?”
“The Nova Roma contingent picked off the stealth raider. The other ships jumped to shadow space as soon as we picked off the missiles,” Admiral Dreyfus said. “They're gone... for now.”
Lucius nodded to himself, “Good job, Admiral Dreyfus. I'm headed to the Patriot now, I think we've got some planning to do.” That was an understatement, he knew. This raid had changed the dynamic. They had hoped to take the offensive... yet with the possibility of another raid like this, they would have to adjust that plan. Lucius could feel the initiative slipping away. They needed to change things back into their favor, and soon, or they might well be knocked entire on the defensive.
Wars weren't won on the defensive. Since this was a war for the survival of the human race, Lucius didn't feel that setting here guarding the planet was a winning long term strategy. It seemed like an even worse strategy given the attack whose purpose seemed to knock them back to just that.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
August 7, 2403
Alicia Nix, the new head of the United Colonies Federal Investigation Bureau, stepped into the antiseptic interrogation room and took a seat across the table from the man who waited there. He was a tall man, gaunt after working in the Chxor labor station from where they had rescued him, along with seven hundred and fifty thousand other prisoners.
Sorting those prisoners had fallen to the Federal Investigation Bureau. Most of it was relatively simple, in part, due to the Chxor's excellent record-keeping. They sorted out the common criminals from political or military prisoners. From there, each of the groups were sorted out by skill set, background, and nationality. The Nova Roma citizens most commonly were passed along to the other Nova Roma refugees. Most of the others were helped to get a life started here on Faraday or offered tickets to Colonial Republic space.
Some handful, however, had hidden among the other slave workers under false papers. Most of those, after processing, came forward to identify themselves. They were commonly political or military prisoners who feared the Chxor would execute them. Some, mostly criminals, had tried to remain hidden. Alicia had not been entirely surprised when she learned about the lucrative black market enterprises going on under the bulbous noses of the Chxor overseers. More than a few of the men and women who ran such illicit businesses had lived lives of relative luxury... until the breakout which had cost them most of their ill-gotten gains. Needless to say, they had not been entirely welcoming of the rescue.
Thus far, between freed workers, extensive searching of criminal databases, and people coming forward, Alicia's people had managed to identify everyone... except this one man. “Good morning,” Alicia said as she slid a cup of coffee across the table. She personally couldn't stand the vile stuff, but most of the prisoners couldn't get enough of it. “I'm Alicia Nix.”
“I don't care who you are.” The man ignored the coffee, “As I've stated before, I am a Nova Roma citizen. I insist I be released to the Nova Roma authorities.”
“That's nice,” Alicia said. “But as you have yet to identify yourself, we are unable to verify that you even are a Nova Roma citizen, much less in the military as you claim.” She kept her voice friendly, but she hoped that the man could tell just how irritated she was. Seriously, she thought, I don't have time for this... I've got two hundred thousand Chxor prisoners to sort through. From his looks, his accent, and his overall attitude, she didn't doubt he was, in fact, a Nova Roma citizen. He was tall, had dark hair and eyes, and had the olive complexion common to the Nova Romans. His broad lips held an arrogant smirk and his jaw jutted forward antagonistically.
“I am a senior officer of the Nova Roma military. Any Nova Roma ship should be able to contact high command and send them my DNA scans. They can confirm my identity.” His broad lips gave a sardonic twist, “Unless, of course, your claims of working with Nova Roma are false.”
Alicia gave an exasperated sigh, “As my people have told you before, Nova Roma has fallen. They have established a government in exile, but they have limited data from their evacuation.” Almost none, Alicia thought, seeing as they hijacked whatever damaged or not-fully-constructed ships they could find from the shipyards for their escape. The young Emperor Romulus IV had as much as admitted to having to rely upon captured Chxor files to identify some of the officers and enlisted she had already turned over to him.
“Whatever their status, they will have senior officers capable of identifying me by sight, I'm sure,” he said. “And as I stated before, I will not be seen by lackeys. I have information crucial to the war effort. I must speak with senior officers as soon as possible.” His voice was earnest, but Alicia didn't miss the jibe behind it. He still thought the United Colonies was some kind of joke.
“You've said that to my people before,” Alicia said. “And as they have explained, we only have your word on this.”
“My word, as an officer of your self-proclaimed ally should be enough...” the man sneered. “We both know the power and authority that Nova Roma commands. You may claim to be an ally, but you are likely little more than a client state. Think of how your leadership will react when they realize that you have detained a senior officer of Nova Roma without charges during a time of war.”
“Look,” Alicia said. “I'm as senior as it gets as far as this interview process will go. I answer to the leader of the United Colonies, and Baron Giovanni doesn't have time to interview a troublesome former slave with delusions of grandeur.” She stood up from her chair, finally frustrated beyond caring anymore if the man was who he said he was.
“Wait...” the man said. His olive skin had gone pale. “Baron Giovanni... you can't possibly mean Baron Lucius Giovanni?” His voice held a level of shock and horror.
“Of course,” Alicia said sharply.
The man looked away. “Then he has forsaken the Empire and set himself up as warlord. This little farce is no doubt some part of his punishment for me. I see it all now.” His tone was one of resignation.
“No,” Alicia said. “He is one of the senior officers of Nova Roma who survived its fall. He is working with Emperor Romulus to oppose the Chxor. And as far as some kind of punishment...” Alicia frowned, “If my people have no idea who you are, how do you think he would?”
“He knows,” the prisoner sneered. “There's no way he couldn't know.”
Alicia rolled her eyes, “Why is that exactly?”
“Because,” the prisoner said, his voice empty of hope. “I am the man who ruined his life... and I'm his sworn enemy.”
***
“He is Admiral Valens Balventia, he's the son of Duke Balventia... probably the Duke, himself, now,” Lucius said, his voice soft. He saw that Alicia Nix looked puzzled and he gave her a grim smile. “His family and mine have a... history. His grandfather was the younger brother of Emperor Romulus II, which would mean he's a cousin to the Emperor... and to me, through my father being his grandfather's half brother.”
Alicia's face still showed confusion. Lucius looked over at Kate Bueller who had accompanied the head of the FIB to the meeting. She was here to learn about any foreign policy issues rather than any real suspicion of the importance of the prisoner, Lucius would guess. Kate's blue eyes showed as little understanding as Alicia's brown eyes. That only makes sense, Lucius thought, no one here on Faraday had any interest in the lineage of the Nova Roma elite before now and I hardly encourage discussion of my own family.
Lucius sighed. “Short version: he's my cousin, but his family has a long term grudge against my own... because my father was Emperor Romulus I's illegitimate son... his firstborn son.” He saw some understanding begin to dawn in their eyes as he continued, “More to the point, my father rebelled against Emperor Romulus III, turned traitor and led his fleet in a coup attempt.” Lucius sighed, “And to top it off, Valens and I were in the same class at the Nova Roma Military Academy... where, my junior year, he brought charges of cheating against me to get me expelled.”
He saw both of them blanch. “Exactly. We are hardly good friends. More to the point, while I was expelled, he was promoted up the chain of command. He probably has seniority over every other officer we've found from Nova Roma thus far... short of Admiral Mund, who has already retired twice and has made no bones about the fact that he wants to leave this fight to a younger, healthier man.”
Kate sat down slowly, “So you're saying he's their third most senior officer, right after the Emperor and Admiral Mund... and he's your sworn enemy?” She looked over at Alicia, “I'm somewhat tempted to ask that he disappear in custody, if only to prevent the diplomatic incident.”
“Don't even suggest it,” Lucius said. He shook his head, “As it is, we'll never convince him that this wasn't done on purpose. For that matter, half the Nova Roma officers we've released will suspect it was intentional. His family's grudge against me is something that has been talked at various levels.” They slowed my promotion, Lucius remembered, but they also threatened officers who worked with me and went after the careers of those who stood with me. He thought of Anthony Doko, who would have never risen above the rank of Commander due to his history aboard the War Shrike as Lucius's Executive Officer. “And, as much as I hate to admit it, he's a capable and skilled officer.” Lucius grimaced, “I can't say I like the man in the least, but his record doesn't lie.”
“So...” Alicia said, “What you're saying is that he'll be useful to the Nova Roman's, but he's going to poison our relationship with them?”
“Worse than that,” Lucius grunted, “But the sooner we inform the Emperor that we have him, the better.” Lucius took a deep breath. “And as little as I like it, there's probably one thing I can do to help ease the situation.”
“What's that?” Kate asked.
Lucius grimaced, “The one thing I really don't want to do... give him a personal apology and appeal to his hatred of the Chxor to put our rivalry in the past.”
“You think that will work?” Kate asked, a look of surprise on her face.
“Absolutely not,” Lucius said. “But it's worth a try.” He sighed, “If nothing else, it will assuage his pride enough that he'll at least pretend to be civil.”
Alicia nodded and straightened, “Thank you, Baron. If that's all, then I'll get back to work. Kral the Chxor has arranged for the first few thousand Chxor prisoners to head to the colony we've established on the ice moon.”
“Thanks, Alicia,” Lucius said. He waited as she left and then quirked an eyebrow at Kate. “So, what else did you want to discuss?”
“Well, I'll need some time to contemplate the repercussions of this little incident,” Kate said with a smile. “But I also wanted to bring up that offer from the Shogun to see if you had time to think on it.”
Lucius cocked an eyebrow, “His emissary getting impatient?”
“No,” Kate said. “He's actually quite comfortable discussing minor trade issues at the moment. What I'm worried about is that we might miss a window of opportunity.”
Lucius sat back, “Oh?” He thought about the recent raid and he wondered suddenly if the Shogun's emissary had known about it ahead of time.
“We know that the Colonial Republic is on the verge of collapse,” Kate said. She leaned forward in her chair. “An alliance with one of their most powerful factions would be a sign of strength. As it is, most of the diplomats and emissaries we've received have suggested that they're shopping around already. We know that the Centauri Confederation is basically a dying beast. We could establish ourselves as a safe harbor for other worlds to flock to... or we could end up being a target for everyone, the prize being our technology, resources, and, especially, the Dreyfus Fleet.”
“You've a point,” Lucius said. “Yet I'm not certain we can uphold construction on the scale of supporting our own war effort and still provide ships for export to even one ally, much less multiples.” The shipyard under construction was designed for their own use. Granted, no one had thought, until now, that they would need to build more. That would require more shipyards, more infrastructure, and most importantly, more time.
“I understand,” Kate said. “But even if we refit captured Chxor ships or Republic Liberation Fleet ships, the Shogun might still feel it's a good deal. For that matter, Faraday has long produced smaller ships on the ground. Most of those facilities are intact. We could upgrade those easily enough to build up to frigate size... or so Matthew Nogita told me.”
Lucius smiled, “Doing some research, huh?” He nodded slowly, “That's not a bad option, actually. Alright. I'll meet with this envoy of the Shogun, but I'd like to go into that meeting well prepared. Give me a week to get some better estimates of what we can supply at what options.” His smile grew broad, “Oh and you get to wade through diplomatic legalese to see what we can actually agree to as some kind of alliance, both if they remain members of the Colonial Republic and if they break away.”
Kate gave him a nod and Lucius let out a sigh, “I didn't want this job, you know.” He looked out the window at the night sky and his eyes sought out the brighter specks of light, the hulls of ships in orbit. “I never wanted to worry about alliances and diplomacy and all the rest. I just wanted to command a ship in battle.”
He looked back at her chuckle. The smile on her face and the blue twinkle in her eyes spoke just as well as her words about her feelings on the subject, “Well, keep doing the job you're doing, Baron, and I think we'll get through this just fine.”
Lucius grimaced, “I want to take this fight to the enemy. Preparations are underway, but all the rest of this feels like a side show.” He saw a look of hurt go across her face and he waved a had. “I'm sorry. I know this is important... but the Chxor are killing millions of people. The current rumors say the Balor have halted their advance, but that doesn't tell us what is happening in the systems they've conquered... which if General Mira is to be believed, is too horrid to describe.”
“But this is just as important,” Kate said. “We're building something here. We're laying the foundation for a strong, vital nation. You can't rush a foundation or you end up with crap, just like the Colonial Republic or the Centauri Confederation. They were dozens of different star systems thrown together when Amalgamated Worlds started to fall apart.” Kate waved an arm, “Hell, I'd say the main reason half of humanity lives under dictators and the other half in anarchy is because there was no transition, just a power vacuum that people rushed to fill.”
Lucius snorted, but he didn't argue. The tyranny of Amalgamated Worlds had been terrible, but their bureaucracy had at least provided some governance. Their collapse, almost a century ago, had left the more technologically advanced colonies to band together into the Centauri Confederation while the frontier worlds had formed the Colonial Republic. Some handful of systems declared their own independence or, like Nova Roma, established their own empires. Most of those nations had fallen apart in the time since, with the exception of Nova Roma and one or two other, smaller nations.
“Baron, we're creating something new... a baby of sorts,” Kate said with a smile. “And just like your daughter, don't expect things to be easy... or to happen overnight.”
Lucius shook his head at that, “Alright. But, don't expect me to be here all the time to shake hands and kiss babies.” Lucius's dark eyes went cold and hard, “I owe it to my homeworld to do what I can to protect them, to liberate them from the Chxor. For that matter, I owe it to their new Emperor, who has helped us in freeing Faraday.”
“Of course,” Kate said. “That's what you do... it's who you are. And we wouldn't have elected you as leader if you didn't feel that way. Just as long as you don't forget your loyalties and duties to us.”
Lucius sighed and for a moment he thought about the long, late nights where the crushing responsibility kept him awake... and the worries that he wasn't up to the task. “Trust me, it's not something I can forget.”
***
Lucius stepped into the comfortable suite with a slow pace. He had thought that he would be able to put his pride and past behind him for this meeting. It was humbling, in more ways than one, to find that he couldn't, quite, manage to do that.
He stopped before the desk. Admiral Balventia did not stand from his chair. “You wished to see me, Captain.” He purposely left off his title, Lucius knew, and from the smug tone in his voice, he knew that Lucius would know.
Lucius managed a polite nod, “Lord Admiral Balventia, I wish to express my sincere apologies as to your treatment and processing.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I had not known you were a prisoner aboard the Chxor station. I've contacted Emperor Romulus IV and informed him of your survival and that we've moved you to more comfortable quarters, pending the Nova Roma contingent finding quarters for you.”
The polite expression faded from Valens' face. “From your apology, either you didn't realize they had me or you didn't expect the potential fallout from my detainment, either way, I can't say I'm surprised at the level of incompetence that suggests.”
Lucius felt his face go rigid. “Understand, Duke Balventia, that while I am still a landed Baron of Nova Roma, I am also the head of state for a nation with its own military. A nation which is the ally for the government-in-exile of the Nova Roma Empire.” Even as he said the words, Lucius knew it was a mistake to let his anger get the better of him. Still, over fifty years of rivalry was not something he could easily put aside.
“You can play your little game with the puers out here,” Valens said. “But we both know how little meaning that has. And truthfully, pretending to have found the Dreyfus Fleet? Please, I might be impressed if I didn't know you well. But I've taken your measure, Giovanni. You've half the ability of your father and every bit of his ambition and bitterness. I'm certain it must have pained the Emperor to have to rely upon you, as his senior officer. I wonder how much you threatened him with the possibilities of a coup that he bent his head to acknowledge this alliance?” Valens smirked, “I wonder just how long that meaningless document will last now that he has someone ever so much more trustworthy and capable to rely upon?”
“Longer than you might think,” Lucius said, his teeth gritted. He had hoped that an apology might go some distance to maintain at least some measure of discretion between them. Valens Balventia's words, however, were a shot across the bow. The other man would not rest until he undid everything that Lucius stood for... because to accept anything else would be to admit a personal defeat. He didn't know how the Admiral had discounted the evidence that the United Colonies was strong and that Nova Roma itself had fallen. Lucius wondered if his imprisonment had... damaged the other man. Yet because of their shared history, that suggestion could not come from him or anyone tied to him. Otherwise it would be discounted as slander or worse.
He took a deep breath and gave peace something of a try. “Valens, despite our personal differences, our families' heritage, we need to work together. This is a fight for the survival of our species.” He saw some shift of emotion in the other man's face and he continued. “I know you are an enormously capable officer–”
Admiral Valens Balventia burst out into harsh laughter. He waved a hand, “Oh, this is just too precious... how desperate you must be to try that course to make peace with me. This is too absurd. How it must have tempted you to have your people quietly kill me. It must have gnawed at you, those weeks of my imprisonment, knowing you had me, yet you didn't dare to kill me, not when the Emperor, no doubt, would find out.”
Lucius locked his jaw and stepped back. “Valens, you stupid fool, if I wanted you dead, I'd have a dozen men and women willing to kill you and bury your body in the mass graves that litter this world from Chxor occupation,” Lucius snapped. “Our stupid little rivalry is a waste of focus on both our parts. We are at war! The Chxor will exterminate our entire species if we don't find some way to work together. What part of that do you not understand?!”
Valens opened his mouth to speak, but Lucius cut him off. “You can play your petty games of politics all you want. I will do my damned duty... and if you get in the way of that, I will bury you. I will see to it that, despite your skill and ability, you won't command so much as a tugboat. And Emperor Romulus, knowing what I bring to the table, will call you out on it for irritating me.” Lucius took a deep breath, but it didn't restore calm, instead it just seemed to fan the rage, “Not a damned person out here cares who your great-grandfather and my grandfather were, nor do they really care about rank and position and lineage. The people who are left care who can defeat the Chxor, who can defend them against the raiders and other scum that want to tear things down. While you were hiding under a false identity on a Chxor station, I destroyed eighteen Chxor dreadnoughts with one battered battleship. You have to realize one thing, Valens, about your little game of prestige... I'm beyond it, I just don't care anymore.” Lucius stared at the other man's angry face for a long moment. He wondered if anything he said would penetrate the other man's preconceptions. Finally, after a moment of silence, he said, “I'll do you a favor, just this once. I'll let you talk things over with Admiral Mund and Emperor Romulus and I'll forget this conversation happened.”
If he hadn't been so furious, Lucius would have treasured the look of consternation and shock on Valens Balventia's face. Instead, Lucius turned away and headed to the door. As he stepped out, he heard Valens final response, “You may forget this, but I never will, Giovanni.”
***
Chapter IV
Faraday System
United Colonies
August 16, 2403
Baron Lucius Giovanni sat down at the briefing table with a subdued sigh of resignation. What he wanted, yet again, was to command a ship or ships in combat. The endless briefings that had come with his new position had grown almost intolerable. He was a man of action... and it felt like the only progress they made since the defeat of the Balor was incremental, at best. For that matter, as he'd expected, relations with the Nova Romans, while not icy, had become discernibly cooler. Lucius glanced down at the end of the table, where Emperor Romulus IV, Admiral Mund, and Admiral Balventia sat.
“Baron, thank you for making time for this meeting,” Admiral Dreyfus said. “I know how busy you've been of late.” He turned, “And thank you, our allies, for also making this meeting.”
“Of course,” Valens Balventia said. “How could I miss such an important meeting with our most trusted allies?” He managed to put a mocking edge to his tone.
“Yes, quite,” Admiral Dreyfus said. He gestured to the end of the table where his chief of staff stood, “Captain Franks will brief.”
Captain Franks nodded impatiently. “Gentlemen, I've got two parts to cover. First, I'd like to go over what we've been able to find out about our latest attackers.” He activated the briefing table's holofield and a missile appeared on the screen. “This, is the one missile we recovered. It was one of their normal missiles that took a glancing hit from an interceptor, just enough to damage it. We've been able to match the serial numbers to a lot of munitions manufactured in the Garris Major system.”
He looked around expectantly, “Yes, gentlemen, we were attacked by Colonial Republic ships.” Lucius shifted impatiently and thought, is that all they've found after almost two weeks? Captain Franks looked somewhat disappointed that no one exclaimed at his skills. He cleared his throat, “We, uh, have also matched the emissions from at least two of the ships to vessels which we believe were assigned to Garris Major.”
“What about the stealth ship that attacked the array?” Emperor Romulus IV demanded impatiently. The young man looked stressed, this attack had pushed their attack preparations back as they reorganized to protect Faraday from other such surprise raids.
“They array and the station,” Captain Franks corrected.
“That should be: 'Your Highness,'” Valens Balventia snapped.
Captain Franks looked between the two of them. “Excuse me?”
Valens gritted his teeth, “When you address the Emperor of Nova Roma, you will refer to him as 'Your Highness' am I understood?”
Captain Franks looked over at Admiral Dreyfus with a confused expression. Lucius could see that the Admiral was torn between maintaining the alliance and snapping at the arrogant Nova Roman Admiral. Emperor Romulus IV looked slightly irritated, though Lucius wasn't certain whether it was with Captain Franks or Valens. Valens Balventia's face was flushed and his dark eyes narrowed with anger. Admiral Mund sat silent, his lined face clearly uncomfortable.
Lucius cleared his throat, “The Emperor's question is still valid, what have we learned about the stealth ship?” He could feel Valens' glare, but he ignored it as Captain Franks pulled up the data.
“Yes, Baron,” Captain Franks said. “As you can see, we have limited data available. The Nova Roma sensors were unable to identify the ship. Also, their return fire on the ship caused its fusion plant to overload, so we don't have any debris to analyze.” Lucius didn't need to glance over at the Emperor and Valens to see their expressions of anger at the implied insult. Captain Franks looked up, “As far as we can determine, the ship was a corvette or frigate. As we saw in the battle, it carried twelve shipkiller missiles.”
“The battle where we saved your precious array,” Admiral Valens Balventia snapped. Lucius glanced over to see the other man's face flushed.
“We can't properly express our gratitude for that,” Admiral Dreyfus said. “We have adopted more of a dispersed formation to defend against another such raid, but that single blow could have effectively ended any offensive operations until we could find some other way to secure antimatter for our vessels.” His words were designed to appease the Emperor and Valens, Lucius knew. Still, if anything, they understated the risks. They had already discussed some contingencies, but almost no other option would produce sufficient quantities of antimatter for the Dreyfus Fleet to run at anything more than standby mode.
Captain Franks spoke up, “Gentlemen, to return to the briefing, we have uncovered additional information about the source of the attacks.”
“You already said it was Garris Major,” Valens Balventia said sharply.
“That was the origin,” Captain Franks nodded, “But we have additional information about the system. Some of our intelligence assets have reported an element of the Garris Major system is in revolt.”
“The raiders?” Admiral Mund asked and leaned forward, suddenly interested. Lucius caught a flicker of expression on the Emperor's face, as well.
“That's what we we are starting to believe,” Captain Wu said. The female intelligence officer stood, her face serious. “We are seeing conflicting reports about who is actually in charge there.” She paused and brought up a news clip, which showed several different people in some kind of announcement, “President Joe Monaghan of Halcyon announced their independence from the Colonial Republic. They also made mention of privateers as well as their own defense force striking those allied with President Salazar, the Colonial Republic member of the Garris Major system.” She zoomed in on one woman in the picture. Blown up it was easy to recognize Admiral Lucretta Mannetti. “As you can see, they have rather odd allies.”
Dead silence met that announcement. Lucius looked around the table and the anger and irritation on the faces there showed how they all felt about that. “How certain are we of that information?” Lucius asked. Imagery could be forged and this could be some scheme to draw them out in an attack on an innocent system.
“We have confirmation from several sources on Halcyon's declaration of independence as well as the space battle where they seized several grounded ships from the Republic Liberation Fleet.” Admiral Dreyfus said. “That includes an actual copy of the report, in addition to firsthand reports from Wenceslaus from those who received it.” The Colonial Republic's officer corps were notoriously corruptible, so it was no surprise that the United Colonies intelligence personnel had that level of access.
Lucius turned back to Captain Franks. “Please, Captain, continue your briefing.”
Captain Franks nodded, “Gentlemen, that is all we've assembled on the attack here, at this time.” He took a deep breath and shot a glance at Admiral Dreyfus. The Admiral nodded and Captain Wu brought up a different display on the holofield. “Gentlemen, this is what we've assembled on our current investigation into the rogue Admiral Lucretta Mannetti and any possible agents she has here on Faraday.”
Lucius pursed his lips. He still wasn't confident that they were correct that one of his personnel was her collaborator. He had served with all of the suspects and each of them had held his life in their hands multiple times. It just didn't make sense, yet there seemed to be no other explanation for how someone had broken her out and helped her to escape the planet after her capture.
“As you can see,” Captain Wu said. “Our investigation has shifted to her known activities. It appears she also has some ties with Halcyon, but we've pinned down her probable base of operations to Port Klast,.” Lucius nodded at that. The system was a known pirate haven, open to whatever ship made port. It was so far out on the edge of human space that its isolation provided some security against a retaliatory strike. The star system also lay within a stellar nebula and the dense clouds of dust and debris made sensor readings problematic. For that matter, Thomas Kaid controlled the system. The infamous terrorist and agent provocateur had a reputation for ruthlessness and paranoia. The two Colonial Republic attempts to capture the system had failed, destroyed by the extensive defenses and the pirates themselves.
“We have been able to locate some of her accounts and from there do some tracking of her sale of loot and her own network of spies and informants.” Captain Franks hesitated. “That is where we found a breakthrough.” He looked suddenly uncomfortable.
“Captain Franks,” Emperor Romulus said, “Any information you've uncovered that can lead to the arrest of the pirate Lucretta Mannetti is invaluable.”
Captain Franks pulled up a bank account. Lucius stared at it for a long moment, confused, as he read the data. The account held almost two hundred million Colonial Republic Solari, a substantial sum, enough to live comfortably on almost any world. What confused him, however, was the picture of the account holder. It was Anthony Doko, Lucius's former Executive Officer from his time aboard the War Shrike.
“We traced some of the money transfers to a bank on Tannis,” Captain Franks said. “As you can see, gentlemen, the account seems to belong to Captain Anthony Doko, of the United Colonies Fleet.”
Lucius felt the blood drain from his face, “No.”
Admiral Dreyfus spoke, “Baron, I know you have served with Captain Doko for many years, but the evidence suggests that Mannetti has him in her employ.”
“I don't think this is enough evidence to convict him,” Lucius said.
“This traitorous piece of filth is married to my sister,” Emperor Romulus snapped. “I say he be remanded to Nova Roma custody and face the trial and execution he deserves.”
Lucius clenched his jaw. He saw a smirk on Valens Balventia's face. Lucius doubted that the man even knew Anthony Doko, but the chance to embarrass Lucius and to remove a trusted officer, without a doubt, made him happy enough. The Emperor's past with Anthony was enough to turn him against the officer, despite the slim evidence. Anthony had married Lizmadie without the Emperor's permission... in fact, he'd done it after the Emperor had expressly forbid it. The fact that he and Lizmadie had known one another for decades didn't matter to him, he cared only that his authority was overridden and that a lowborn commoner had married his sister.
Lucius spoke up, “He is an officer of the United Colonies Fleet, so jurisdiction lies with us.”
“Sir, that's an issue,” Captain Franks said. “He has not renounced his rank or citizenship with Nova Roma. So therefore, it is still under their authority to convene a courts-martial. That's why we brought it before them, as well.”
That did not mean that Lucius had to turn Anthony Doko over to them, though. Still, it would be better if he could get them to see reason without shattering the alliance over this issue. “First of all,” Lucius said, “I think the evidence is slim.”
“Two hundred million Solari?” Valens said with a slight smirk. “From a pirate on the run, after losing her ships and primary source of income?” It appears that someone has brought him up to speed on what had happened with Lucretta Mannetti, Lucius thought.
“How much is she worth, from what you've been able to tell, Captain Wu?” Lucius asked. He waited while the short, stocky woman pulled up the data.
“Uh, somewhere between twenty and thirty billion Solari,” Captain Wu said. “Not including her other ships.”
“Other ships?” Admiral Mund asked. “We were led to believe that she brought everything she had for the fight with the Chxor at the Second Battle of Faraday.”
“I think it more likely she brought everything she had available, Admiral,” Captain Franks said. “We've identified at least six additional warships that she has, to include a Centauri Enforcer-class destroyer, a Port Klast built Ravager-class cruiser, a Nova Roma Helot-class carrier, and three Colonial Republic built destroyers.” His report was met with shock. Lucius bit his lip as well. The Colonial Republic's destroyers were, by themselves, the least dangerous. However, they could provide excellent support to the other ships. The Centauri Confederation, despite their ongoing civil war, produced some of the best human ships, easily on par with Nova Roma. Port Klast's shipyards were more of an unknown, but rumor had it that they had black market access to some of the best military technology available in human space. The carrier, especially was extremely dangerous. Helots were the old-style carrier, purpose built for delivering an entire wing of fighters directly into a battle. Nova Roma had phased them out because their tactics had shifted towards capital ship engagements and away from fighter strikes, but that didn't mean the ship wasn't a huge threat. Hell, Lucius thought, I'd love to have a Helot to use against the Chxor.
“Okay,” Lucius said. “That does change things, somewhat. But my point stands. Two hundred million is a drop in the bucket for her.” No one challenged that statement, not after Captain Frank's information. “Moreover, Tannis's banking system is notoriously secure and they value their clients privacy. How did we get this information?” He genuinely doubted that Admiral Dreyfus's intelligence people had managed to infiltrate the Tannis banking system. Nova Roma's Imperial Intelligence Bureau and Imperial Security had tried and failed for over fifty years, with the leverage of trade sanctions and even the threat of military force. The independent star system had ignored such threats and responded with similar tactics and the value of their currency and trade had caused the Nova Roma merchant families to speak out in their favor.
“We detected access on the account, Captain Doko accessed it to check his balance two days ago,” Captain Franks said. He cleared his throat, “He, uh, spoke up as soon as Captain Wu confronted him. According to him, the account was opened by his father, who was a corporate manager on Nova Roma. He states he has maintained a balance there, but that he only ever checks the funds in order to keep the account.”
That was understandable. Tannis's banking system was very exclusive and restricted access to those who they considered worthy. But it was also as secure as any bank could be, with each of the Tannis Doubloons backed by a weight of gold. The Tannis system was notoriously neutral, as well, backed by a fully armed citizenry and a serious system defense force and augmented by the Mercenary Guild. Accounts there were excellent for those who wanted to save up for a secure retirement... or, for that matter, for someone who wanted to betray their nation.
“So, he admitted it was his account,” Lucius said. “Also, we've established that Mannetti could easily make a transfer of that amount, if she felt it was useful to cause rivalry within our ranks.”
“That implies that she is aware of my people investigating her,” Captain Wu said sharply. Her face turned red as she saw the implications. “Or that she wired it through that Colonial Republic bank because she knew we'd pick it up...” She shook her head, “That's implying a serious level of deviousness and competence, Baron.”
Lucius turned his gaze to Valens, “Admiral Balventia, you've both served with her and faced her in battle before. Do you think she's capable of that level of subterfuge?”
Valens gritted his teeth, but he nodded. Lucius remembered, then, that at the engagement in question, she had slaughtered the Marines sent to capture her in a prepared ambush even as the Peregrine had engaged his vessels and eluded their fire to escape. Perhaps not very diplomatic of me, Lucius thought, to remind him of that.
“Regardless of whether or not that is a possibility,” Emperor Romulus said. “The point remains that there is a very likely possibility that Captain Doko has betrayed us. Due to his high involvement in your plans against the Chxor, I think it is essential that something be done.”
Lucius sighed. For all that he knew Anthony Doko wasn't involved... he had to agree that they must take some kinds of precautions. Lucius sighed, “How about this: house arrest until such time as we find additional evidence for or against?” He felt more than a twinge of phantom pain at the thought of losing Anthony Doko's valuable experience. For all the competence and capability of Admiral Dreyfus's people, they didn't have decades of combat against the Chxor and Colonial Republic. Their wars had been brief clashes such as the Wrethe Incursion or the sustained anti-piracy and anti-terrorism conflicts against the Provisional Colonial Republic Army.
“House arrest and full cooperation with my investigative personnel would be fully acceptable,” Captain Wu said.
Lucius looked around the table to meet the eyes of each of the others. The Emperor grimaced, but after a moment he gave a slight nod of approval. Admiral Mund gave a nod. Admiral Valens Balventia gave a shrug, as if he didn't care. Admiral Dreyfus gave a single nod.
“If that is all...” Lucius said. “I've got to inform him.”
***
Captain Anthony Doko straightened his uniform and stood to attention as Baron Lucius Giovanni stepped into the room. “Sir, thank you for coming in person,” Tony said. Tony felt his throat clench a bit at the worry on the Baron's face.
“I would assume that you know what this is about?” Baron Giovanni asked.
Tony nodded. “Sir, I don't know how it happened. Honestly, when I first saw the money in the account, I thought it was something my father must have arranged, maybe even some sign that he made it off Nova Roma before the Chxor invaded.” He shook his head and felt his throat constrict more at the thought of his father. They never been close and they had led very different lives, but Tony still hoped he lived. If nothing else, Tony thought, I'd like to introduce him to his daughter in law.
Baron Giovanni nodded, “Well, I've prevented some kind of show trial or witch hunt. But with the level of suspicion from Captain Wu and how Emperor Romulus feels about you personally, I'm afraid that you're going to be setting out the fight for some time.”
Tony felt his stomach drop, “Baron, I know how it must look, but taking me out entirely...”
“You're in too deep, Tony,” Baron Giovanni said softly. “Even the slightest suspicion on you, because of your involvement in planning our operations, is a strike against you. The evidence is slim, but it's enough that any plan you're involved in would be suspect. The Emperor wanted you remanded to his custody for a trial.” Baron Giovanni shook his head and Tony realized with a shock how tired he looked. More, he looked suddenly old, his face lined with worry and stress. “I've convinced them all to keep you in house arrest, here with Lizmadie until they can dig through this and show that there's no truth to any of it. The main thing is you're restricted here, no communications off-world and no military contact, nothing at all.”
Tony nodded, yet he felt his shoulders slump. He understood... how could he not? But it still hurt, that his career, his very life, lay in danger over politics and his father's gifted bank account. “I just don't even know how she knew about it,” Tony said. “I wish I'd closed the damned thing, but I had plans to put prize money there, maybe to set aside some savings for after the war.”
“It's not your fault, Tony,” Baron Giovanni said. He gave a confident smile, though his dark eyes still held regret, “You get a bit of a break and we'll take it from here.”
Tony snorted, “I guess I can catch up on my sleep at least.” He opened his mouth to ask about any kind of retaliation against the attack here, but then realized that asking would put the Baron in a difficult situation. Either he answered and violated the terms of the house arrest or he'd have to tell Tony that he couldn't answer. I don't know what to do, Tony realized with a shock, my entire life has been focused on this military career or Lizmadie. He didn't have any other skills, he had no time for hobbies, hadn't ever since he went to the Nova Roma Military Academy.
Baron Giovanni seemed to sense his hesitation and just gave him a nod.
Lizmadie stepped into the room. She seemed to sense the atmosphere in the room and gave them both a warm smile, “Lucius, I'm glad you're here. Will you stay for dinner?” As always, when he saw her, Tony felt his heart soften and the world seemed a better place. Her dark hair fell in a curvy mass, cut short, but still thick and heavy. Her dark green eyes were alert and sharp, yet they still held the edge of softness that made his heart melt. She flashed him a smile and Tony felt his shoulders straighten
Baron Giovanni checked the clock on the wall. He looked torn, Tony saw. “Lizmadie hired a cook, she's pretty good, maybe even as good as you are.”
The Baron snorted, “I'll have to give that a try then.” He frowned, “But not today, I fear. I've got another meeting this evening, with an Emissary from...” he caught himself. “I've got an important meeting tonight.” He gave them both nods. “Princess Lizmadie, good to see you again.”
She smiled, “You too, Lucius. Though, I might remind you that I'm in current disfavor with my younger brother, something about marrying this fellow. I don't know if he's disowned me or stripped me of my titles.”
Baron Giovanni grimaced and Tony saw some of the frustration on his face. “No,” Baron Giovanni said, “He hasn't. I wish he would get past his frustration and arrogance. But with Valens Balventia here, if anything, he's grown more impulsive and arrogant.”
Tony nodded. He had never told the Baron, but he had an encounter with Admiral Valens Balventia once before, when the man had outright told him that his career would end if he didn't cut ties to Lucius Giovanni. He had heard some of the history between their two families at the Academy. For that matter, the press had loved both of them as icons and the rivalry between the two successful officers had been a common enough topic of discussion in open forums. It did not surprise him in the slightest that the Admiral would go out his way to separate the Emperor from Baron Giovanni.
“Well, sir,” Tony said. “I think I'll leave you to it.”
“Thanks, Tony,” Baron Giovanni said and turned for the door. “Um, one thing, you've heard that Alanis has decided to attend our new military academy?”
Tony saw Lizmadie perk up at that. “Uh, no, I hadn't.” He frowned at that. He had heard plenty about how Lucius's headstrong sister had upended Nova Roma's social mores often enough. While, he supposed, he didn't have anything against her joining the military, it made him nervous to think of his wife following her example. For that matter, Tony thought, I wonder how Reese took it?
“Well, she needs someone to talk with,” Baron Giovanni said. “And I think you'd be a good person to put some perspective on it all.”
Tony straightened at that. It was a sign that whatever the evidence, Baron Giovanni still trusted him. Tony met the Baron's dark eyes and gave him a solid nod. “Of course, sir, I'd be glad to.”
“Thanks, Tony,” Baron Giovanni said. He nodded again to Lizmadie. “Take care,” he said and stepped out into the hall. A moment later, Tony heard the front door open and close. Tony sagged back to lean against the bookshelf. He met his wife's eyes. “I'm sorry.”
“For what?” Lizmadie said with a smile, “Sorry that you've made enemies? Sorry that you aren't the type of person to pull strings and get this swept under the rug? Or are you sorry that we're married and love each other deeply? Because if it's any of those three I'll tell you right off: you're an idiot.”
Tony shook his head, “Thanks.”
She came forward and embraced him. “Tony, we've been through a lot together. And whatever you've heard, the escape from Nova Roma was a special type of hell. Getting out we lost dozens to Chxor security points and then a gunfight outside the dockyards, aboard the station. Then, when we took the ships, their fleet opened up, we lost more people and ships before we could finally jump to shadow space.” She clenched him tightly, “That kind of stress was brutal, but what came after was worse, in a way. We had no real supplies to speak of, just whatever we brought with us or happened to be aboard. We lost ships, sometimes in a jump, sometimes just as we plotted our next course.” She shuddered, “Mechanical failures, environmental failures...”
Tony held her close and felt dampness on his cheek. He wasn't sure if it was his tears or hers. “There was a ship carrying Lady Gavius and her kids. You never met her, she was just a nice lady, very good with social situations, friendly... accepting. She helped me a lot. Their ship caught fire, some kind of electrical issue... she and her children burned alive.”
“I'm sorry,” Tony said. He felt a crushing weight on his chest. He had served to protect his family and friends. The powerlessness that came with the knowledge of failure had nearly broken him. Baron Giovanni had kept him and the rest of the crew of the War Shrike going when they all had been near breaking. To know that his wife's life had hung on such a slender thread of survival brought that feeling of powerlessness back.
“I learned so much from that, Tony,” Lizmadie said softly. “I learned that life is too damned short to live without the people we love. I learned that I didn't care anymore that my bastard of a father didn't want me to disgrace him by marrying a commoner. It's the end of the world, Tony, I figured it was time to stop living for others and do what I wanted to do.”
She stepped back. “I knew there would be issues. Especially with my brother, about us. And you know what?” She peered into his eyes and Tony felt tears fill his eyes as he met her green eyed gaze. “It's worth it, damn you. So don't be sorry. Be happy for the time we have together.”
***
Port Klast System
Port Klast
August 18, 2403
Port Klast was infamous as the home base for scores of pirates and for its ruler, the man named Thomas Kaid. Lauren had heard all manner of rumors about the man, things that ranged from the obscene to the absurd. One thing was for certain, Thomas Kaid controlled the Port Klast star system... and no attempt to dislodge him had met with even the slightest modicum of success.
Lauren didn't really care too much about that. The Thomas Kaid of legend was a bloodthirsty terrorist, granted, but then again, the Chxor probably described her that way. History and legend were determined by perspective and whatever Thomas Kaid's actual past, he obviously had enough supporters that he'd built himself one of the toughest fortresses that ever existed.
Lauren sighed a bit as she looked around the bridge. Despite the size of the ship, it almost ran itself. Mason was able to operate most of the ship's primary systems from the command console. The crew he had brought with him had mostly been tasked with loading crew supplies and cargo and preparing the ship for other crew. It had been a boring voyage thus far and Lauren didn't trust boring. She had trained and drilled herself mercilessly with the ship's weapons. With the vast array of options and capabilities in those systems, at least she had found something of a challenge. Between the odd bank system which allowed them to fire in almost any direction, the varying emitters which allowed them to project beams on different bandwidths and spectrums, and the ability to split the beams to different targets or focus all their firepower through just a single bank, that kept her busy.
As the Kraken cleared the outer ring of Port Klast's automated defenses, Lauren looked over at the ship's commander. “Mason, how extensive are these defenses, anyway?”
“Stavros,” Mason said. His voice was harder and harsher than his usual lilt. For that matter, his face looked harder, the cheekbones more pronounced. He had also slicked back his brown hair with a dark oil or gel of some kind. “Remember, I am Stavros Heraklion. Our lives depend on that. Just because we're alone don't assume someone won't find a way to eavesdrop... or even hire a psychic to read your mind.”
“Right,” Lauren sighed, “Stavros, how extensive are these defenses?”
Mason shrugged and he brought up a display of the planet. “Kaid's people don't allow active sensors, so all anyone can pick up on entry is whatever their passive sensors can find. What with the dust clouds of the nebula, that means we can only see the largest and only from relatively close.” He toggled a key and a web of light appeared around the planet. Lauren leaned close and could see that each line was made up of tens of thousands of objects. “As you can see, that is very extensive.”
“How did he build this much, all the way out here?” Lauren asked. It seemed ridiculous, in the face of it. The man had, from what she understood, been on the run, hunted by his former allies and enemies alike. How does one go from refugee to warlord so quickly? She thought, suddenly, of Baron Giovanni's rise to power. Yet the Baron is a heroic figure, surely there was no similarity, she thought. Thomas Kaid was infamous, a terrorist, pirate raider, and criminal mastermind who had helped to bring down Amalgamated Worlds.
“No one really knows,” Mason said. “But he opened up the planet for commerce and as a haven for anyone with the money around sixty years back. No one ever found out what happened to the ships that the Colonial Republic and Amalgamated Worlds sent after him.”
“Did he and Tommy King get along?” Lauren asked.
“They had something of a disagreement,” Mason admitted. “But they did business from time to time. Tommy King has called on this port before. I have as well, though it's been a long time since Stavros Heraklion has come to cal0l. Almost fifteen years, long enough that some of the old grudges should have faded.”
“Grudges?”
Mason smirked, “I'm something of a ladies man, you understand. Women love Stavros. It is easy to see why.” He gestured down at his baggy bright red shirt and tight black leather pants. Evidently, Lauren thought, whatever his history, Stavros had terrible taste in clothing.
“I'm sure,” Lauren grimaced. Her suspicion was that Mason did most of his act to annoy her. Yet it is disturbing how easily he adopts this Stavros act, she thought, to the point that sometimes I wonder if Mason is as much of an act.
“In any case,” Mason said, “We'll follow our proscribed route to the assigned orbit and remain there. You and I will go down, first to pay our greetings to Thomas Kaid and then to recruit additional crew so our current fellows can go home.”
“They won't be staying on?” Lauren asked. Despite her attempts to talk to them, most of them had proven difficult to speak with or had simply avoided her entirely.
“No, Khalid and his boys will be shipping out of here back towards home,” Mason said. “They have nothing to do with this.” He cleared his throat. “We'll take on a crew, mostly pilots and crews to tend to whatever fighters we lay on.”
Lauren nodded. She'd seen the ship's hangar bay, which at the moment was cavernously empty, other than the single combat shuttle that Mason had flown aboard just prior to their departure. He had yet to explain its purpose. “I'm still not certain how this ship functions on so few crew.”
“It's something of a convenience, isn't it?” Mason asked. He held up his hands, “Keeps down on overhead costs and makes it easier for me to vet the entire crew. Practically flies itself, though for me that's a bit of a drag.” He chuckled, “For that matter, the ship repairs itself quite well, given time, resources, and sufficient power.”
“Oh?” Lauren asked. She glanced again at the odd text on some the displays. It looked familiar, yet she couldn't read any of it. Even so, everything seemed placed intuitively, so she knew what buttons she would need to hit to make her console go live. Thankfully, the main systems all seemed translated.
“Yeah, came in pretty handy when I took her from Sta–” Mason cleared his throat, “That is, the previous owner. Nasty little fight and the ship was in a bad way. As you can see, though, it's up to full capacity after a short time to repair itself.”
“Where was she built?” Lauren asked.
Mason smirked, “Good question. My best guess?” He quirked an eyebrow at her suggestively. Lauren waved her hands impatiently and Mason straightened to toggle some codes on the command console. A moment later, it pulled up a set of star charts, labeled in the same odd text. “Alien.”
“Alien?” Lauren couldn't help her tone of sarcasm. There were rumors of alien ships and technology recovered all the time. Most of that was just rumor. No one really believed the tales, particularly the more wild tales. And besides, while the ship looked exotic... “Well, if it's alien, why is everything so human-like?” She gestured at her seat, which fit her more comfortably than most ship's seats she'd sat in. For that matter, the ceilings were of good height, the hatches were obviously designed for human-like bipeds. The atmosphere was comfortable. Other than the odd text and the outward appearance of the ship, it could have passed for any human vessel. Well, some of the systems are pretty advanced, she acknowledged privately, but it would be just like Mason to try to pull the wool over my eyes in some weird joke.
“Alien,” Mason said. “Older than the Egyptian Pyramids on Earth.” He cocked his head, “Oh, I doubted it myself. But I took some serious time to study this ship after I captured her. For that matter, there are some very quality records on her that you can review as well...”
“Attention, Kraken, this is Port Klast Traffic Control, we have additional inbound craft that are in a group and wish to stay that way, we're adjusting your orbit accordingly. Please adjust course by five nine three degrees along vector two.” The woman's voice was calm and professional, not what Lauren had expected of the pirate haven.
“Acknowledged, Traffic Control,” Mason said. “Adjusting course now.” As he did so, Lauren noticed he activated another series of commands on his console.
“Problem?” Lauren asked.
“Maybe,” Mason said. “Not with Traffic Control, they're about as incorruptible as they come.” He pulled up the passive sensor feed for the ships inbound from their rear. “Hmm, those are Nova Roma drive signatures. Military drives on three of them.”
“Admiral Mannetti?” Lauren asked.
“Or mutineers, deserters, or just refugees,” Mason said softly. “When nations collapse, you get all kinds of flotsam boiling around everywhere. Something interesting, to be certain. Possibly something to do with our business here.”
Lauren watched the icons for a moment, then looked up at Mason. “So, Captain Stavros, what's our plan... our real plan?”
He grimaced, “What, taking on a crew and going pirating doesn't sound legitimate?” She gave him a level look and he smiled. “Well, Stavros is a skilled enough pirate, but well known for being a big spender and a poor businessman. He was an independent sort, but he occasionally signed on with larger bands, particularly when he had a hard run of luck.”
Lauren's eyes narrowed, “So...”
“We make port, buy some fighters, preferably cheap, sign on a new crew, preferably cheap, and make some noises about looking for work, a group that can pay well enough to keep us eating and all that, but not one that sucks away autonomy.”
“Mannetti.”
Mason shook his head, “No.” He rubbed at his clean shaven face and the lack of stubble seemed to surprise him for a moment. “From what I can tell, she runs a very tight-knit group. No outsiders into her inner circle... especially not outright independents like us.” He took a deep breath, “Our way in will have to be through one of her allies, hopefully one that's part of her overall organization but not in her inner circle. Mercenaries, but ones she trusts enough to recruit from. I've got a short list.”
“So we prove ourselves, move up into her organization, figure out her plans...” Lauren frowned, “I suppose that means we'll be doing actual piracy?”
“Maybe,” Mason said with a sour grimace. “I'd prefer to sign with some of the more tolerable sorts, rather than the bloodthirsty, rabid types, but it might come to that.” His hand dropped to his belt, where his prayer beads should have hung. Lauren didn't miss the motion. He met her eyes, “I warned you that you might not like the sorts we'll have to deal with.”
“Doesn't matter,” Lauren said. “We'll do what we have to.”
***
Faraday System,
United Colonies
August 20, 2403
Lucius had to stifle a yawn as he stepped into the briefing room for what seemed like the millionth time. In addition to the series of meetings over the past few weeks, his daughter was not sleeping well. The wet nurse said it was a growth spurt, that she just was more hungry and irritable as a result, but hearing her cry at night was wrenching for him.
He took a seat next to Admiral Dreyfus. “Morning.”
“Good morning, Baron,” Admiral Dreyfus said softly. “Late night?”
Lucius nodded, “But I understand that this is a meeting your people have wanted to give me for a while and from what I understand, it's something that should be a high priority, so let's begin, shall we?”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded and gestured to the end of the table. Two people in civilian clothing sat there. The first was an Asian woman, who stood and gave Lucius a polite nod. Admiral Dreyfus spoke, “Doctor Sheryl Gaspodschin is our head researcher, she's very accomplished, both in general research as well as applied engineering concepts.”
The woman gave a nod, “Baron Giovanni, I've been waiting for some time to really dig into some of the applied research that my teams have planned since the fleet arrived at Sanctuary.” She gestured at her male companion. “Doctor Randal Wade and I have accumulated a great deal of potential projects which we think will prove to be of long term benefit to us.” Her companion was tall, blonde haired, and of pale complexion.
“That's good,” Lucius said. He frowned a bit, “Though I wonder if you'll be including research into the Ghornath technology as well as the captured Balor technology.”
“That's a matter of priorities, of course, Baron,” Doctor Wade said. “While I'd agree that military technology from both could be beneficial, we are hoping to adopt a more broad spectrum of research.”
“We are involved in a war,” Lucius said. “I would think that military technology would be the priority.” He looked over at Admiral Dreyfus with a raised eyebrow.
Before the Admiral could speak, Doctor Gaspodschin interrupted, “Baron, no one is saying that military technology isn't the priority, but we've spent decades preparing resources and running simulations on existing research. We don't want to throw that away. We will allocate resources towards this other research, but we prefer to lend our resources towards sciences which we better understand and that are more mature.”
“Mature?” Lucius asked, his eyes narrow.
Doctor Wade spoke up, “The Balor and Ghornath technology is poorly understood. Some of it is far advanced to what we're at the position of reproducing. Our fear is that we'll spend countless hours of research in fruitless endeavors.”
Lucius frowned, “Nova Roma has managed to reproduce and utilize Ghornath technology and to implement it during wartime conditions.”
Doctor Gaspodschin's frown of distaste showed what she thought of that, “Baron Giovanni, the Nova Roma engineers and scientists obviously have a limited grasp of the forces they are working with. While their accomplishments towards applications are notable, their knowledge of theory is painfully absent.”
“Yet the guns they managed to design have an effective range almost nine thousand kilometers further than those of your own fleet,” Lucius said, eyes narrowed.
“Yet they have only the vaguest idea of what happens to the energy going in one end, much less how it reacts with the target on the other,” Gaspodschin snapped. “Worse, their 'translated' Ghornath manuals are riddled with errors and mathematical equations that make no sense.” She shook her head, “And as for the two 'scientists' that your ally loaned us, they fumble with technology that is far too dangerous for us to engage.”
“That dangerous technology is what we face from our enemies,” Lucius said. “For that matter, we'll have to find some way to match or beat it, we cannot rely upon the enemy being predictable in the future.”
Doctor Wade spoke up, “Sir, I think this has gotten a bit emotional. Perhaps if we could continue with the briefing, you can see what we are currently working on, and how it relates to the war effort?”
Lucius let out a sigh, “Yes, please.” The woman's abrasiveness set him on edge. There was a sense of arrogance there... and Lucius was reminded of Matthew Nogita's comments about ship design.
Doctor Wade brought up an image of a large array, “Baron, this is one of the prototypes we wish to begin construction on.” He activated a button and the array expanded. “This, sir, is designed to draw upon the zero point energy fluctuations of vacuum. On a large scale, such as this, an array could easily exceed the power output of the solar array and produce large quantities of antimatter. Also, it does not use a collider, such as the solar array, instead it assembles the antimatter out of raw energy and generated quarks.”
“That's interesting...” Lucius frowned. “How long to put into production?”
“We're just on the prototype,” Doctor Gaspodschin said sharply. “But we think that the prototype design could be built in six months. As a bonus, we can build it in deep space, well away from any star system and utilize encoded shadow space coordinates to prevent its location from falling into enemy hands. Even a psychic can't pull it's location from a navigator if he doesn't know it.”
Lucius nodded, “I like that idea. What's the downside?”
The two scientists looked at one another. “There is a hazard. The system can become unstable, if our algorithms are correct. We're dealing with quantum forces, so the production of power on this scale is hazardous. The array itself could, in theory be used as a weapon, though we aren't sure how great of control we could have on it. If something goes wrong with the production process, we would have to evacuate the area... this is the other reason we don't want it located in a star system.”
Lucius nodded, “Very well. He looked at Dreyfus, “I trust your people will manage the security for the location?”
“My intelligence people will make this very secure.” Admiral Dreyfus said.
“Then it has my initial approval. I'll want to see the overview of the security precautions and I'd like to run some of them past General Mira's people for security against psychics,” Lucius said. He saw Doctor Gaspodschin frown at that and he made a mental note to talk with Admiral Dreyfus about it.
“Our next project is one that Doctor Gaspodschin and I have worked on personally,” Doctor Wade said. “It is an improvement on the Amalgamated Worlds Jung-Hai Power Armor.” Lucius frowned at that. He remembered, vaguely, that the Amalgamated Worlds power armor sets had run off antimatter plants and that dumbed-down versions had been the basis of the Nova Roma Empire's own powered armor.
Doctor Gaspodschin brought up an image of a squat, armored figure. “Baron, basically this started out as a limited improvement, but we've since completely overhauled the design of our existing power armor. We've compared its schematics to the Nova Roma and even the Centauri Confederation designs and we've continued to improve and implement other designs along the way.”
Lucius narrowed his eyes, “This sounds expensive.” His Nova Roma Marines aboard the War Shrike had no access to power armor, in part because of war-time limitations, but in part because the power armor they did have was too expensive to produce enough of it for everywhere it was needed.
“They are,” Doctor Wade said, “But so is normal power armor. These suits are far more capable.” He brought up a series of schematics, “We upgraded the suit's processing power and power systems. The improved computer allows the suit to run autonomous jamming and countermeasure systems.” Lucius frowned at that, it sounded more like a fighter than an armored suit. “The upgraded antimatter plant allows for four hundred hours of standard use or two hundred hours of combat use.”
Lucius quirked an eyebrow at Admiral Dreyfus, who gave him a slight shrug. Those kinds of power estimates always seemed to prove optimistic after actual field use.
“In addition, we have added a defense screen that can be used in both vacuum and atmosphere,” Doctor Gaspodschin said.
“Now that's interesting,” Lucius said and leaned forward. A defense screen utilized ionized plasma to induce a planar, focused zone which deflected or at least disrupted projectiles and energy weapons. They tended to be more effective in vacuum than in atmosphere, if only because the interactions with the atmosphere had a turbulence effect on the plasma in the screen.
“Indeed, we're certain that the added defense will increase survivability by at least forty percent,” Doctor Gaspodschin said. “And when you add in the countermeasure systems and jamming we think that can be increased to almost seventy percent.”
Lucius nodded slowly, “This is intriguing, continue.”
“We've also improved the graviton pulsers of the original design, to the point that the suit has limited flight and highly improved jump capabilities,” Doctor Wade said. “This would be a higher energy cost and would run the power plant down sooner, but would allow for unorthodox tactics in a planetary environment.”
Lucius glanced at Admiral Dreyfus. The Admiral nodded, “My Marines have looked it over, they approved most of the changes.”
“Very well,” Lucius said. “What's the cost against the normal suits?”
Doctor Gaspodschin shrugged, “We already have a stockpile of the normal suits. Many of the parts are interchangeable, so maintenance would not be fundamentally a problem.” She hesitated, “However, each suit costs almost three times as much as the standard power armor to produce. Most of that cost is in the computer system and the defense screen.”
“So we can only make one third as many, unless we allocate more towards these suits than we otherwise would the other ones,” Lucius said. He frowned. He didn't know enough to feel comfortable making a decision like that. He wished, suddenly, that he'd known to bring Colonel Proscia up. The weathered Marine had decades of combat experience and Lucius felt certain that he would be better able to make the right call.
“We already have a stockpile of the older suits, Baron,” Doctor Wade said. “These new ones can be implemented in batches, with new units receiving them over time.” He shrugged, “We call this armor Juggernaut power armor. We feel confident that the Juggernaut will prove itself, especially in use against the Chxor.”
Lucius nodded slowly. The Chxor favored lighter caliber projectile weapons aboard their ships as being less likely to damage essential machinery. Also, while they had larger, man-portable weapons, they rarely used them planet-side Their tactics there tended towards police forces and when Nova Roma Marines had managed to come to grips with them, their better armor and equipment often proved successful.
Of course, the problematic part was that the Chxor would not hesitate to drop kinetic or even nuclear strikes on their own people... if they thought it was the most efficient way to stop an enemy. No amount of countermeasures or even a suit-mounted defense screen would stop that level of attack. “Alright, again, preliminary agreement. I want to see actual performance with this system as well as a full analysis by Admiral Dreyfus's Marines before we go into full production.”
Doctor Gaspodschin gave a thin smile, “Of course, Baron Giovanni.”
She closed out the Juggernaut power armor and brought up a new schematic. “Baron, this, I think, is the answer to creating a next generation fighter. We're calling it the Maverick.” Lucius would have liked a moment to study the scale, something seemed off to him, but she flipped through to a detailed schematic of the power plant before he could pin down what bothered him. “It uses a similar upgrade in the power systems from the Juggernaut's design, albeit on a larger scale. The increase in power allows us to utilize systems which are more power intensive and creates a superior fighter.”
Lucius frowned at that. From what he knew of fighter design, power was important, but size was the primary issue. That was one reason the Nova Roma designed Harrasser was larger than most of its equivalent craft. In doing so, they fit in more room for weapons.
Doctor Gaspodschin didn't seem to notice his frown, she continued in a satisfied tone, “The increased power systems allowed us to add an advanced jamming system and a countermeasure chaff system which should increase survivability by at least two hundred percent.” She took a deep breath, “It also allowed us to upgrade the drive system to increase acceleration by twenty-five percent.”
Lucius nodded slowly, “Those are substantial improvements, but what about the offensive firepower?”
Doctor Gaspodschin frowned, “It mounts hard-points for missiles as well as the Raptor's pulse laser system.” She brought up the offensive stats.
Lucius stared at that for a long moment and he felt his lips form into a hard, flat line. He took a long moment to quell his anger before he spoke, “This fighter design utilizes a shorter ranged weapon for fighter engagement... and from what I can see it also mounts hard points for only one ship-killer missile or four interceptor missiles?”
“We thought that use of ship-killer missiles on a strike fighter was overkill. It can mount two medium weight missiles or four interceptor missiles.” Doctor Gaspodschin said. “We've designed a medium weight missile set that performs admirably against the types of targets that fighters should be engaging...”
“Doctor,” Lucius interrupted. “Those fighters will need to engage a variety of craft. I've seen the medium weight missiles in use. While they are effective against destroyers and lighter warships, they are not effective enough against Chxor cruisers, much less the Chxor dreadnoughts.” Doctor Gaspodschin opened her mouth to argue, but Lucius continued, “In addition, this design lacks sustained combat abilities against enemy fighter craft such as the Colonial Republic's Patriot or the very common Interceptor. Its internal weapons are either short ranged or, like the missile system, short on ammunition. Four interceptor missiles? Even with your best, it takes two to kill a single fighter. This craft will have no choice but to close to energy weapons range and engage... with the piddling little pulse laser you've installed. Yes, it's better than the rotary cannons that the Colonial Republic uses... but it is inferior to the Harasser's gun and completely ineffective against anything larger than a shuttle.”
Lucius paused for breath and Doctor Gaspodschin spoke up, “Baron, the defensive measures we've installed should give the fighters an advantage at both close and long range...”
“An advantage, yes, but the craft is too lightly armed to make that a serious advantage,” Lucius interrupted. He turned to Admiral Dreyfus, “I know, that under Amalgamated Worlds, fighter craft served as auxiliaries and skirmishers, rather than main line combatants.”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded slowly, “This is true. The changes to this design were approved by my own pilots, my own officers. We feel survivability would give us the edge in an engagement with other fighters.”
“It might,” Lucius said. “But the craft would only be an interceptor. It would not be a multipurpose craft and would force us to rely upon either a separate bomber or larger vessels to perform the role of an attack craft.” Lucius sighed, “The reason that the Nova Roma Harasser is so successful is that it's load can be configured for a number of threats... and that it mounts enough ordinance to effectively engage numerically superior opponents... at ranges outside their own.”
He looked between Admiral Dreyfus and the scientists. “The reason I'm angry, and I am angry, is not because you designed an inferior fighter. It is because the work you put into it was without the input of my own people... just as, I understand, some of your other ship design has been.” Lucius let out a sigh, “Part of that is my fault, but part of it is your own, Admiral.”
Admiral Dreyfus opened his mouth, but Lucius raised one hand and spoke, “Look, Admiral, this is something we both bear responsibility for. I've had a number of my people come to me in regards to a certain institutional arrogance which they've encountered between your people and my own. Your experienced personnel fought with Amalgamated Worlds Fleet, often against the Provisional Colonial Republican Army as well as skirmishes with Wrethe pirates and the like. They were undefeated. Those victories were forged through the use of large, heavily armored ships and the use of fighters to screen them.”
Dreyfus frowned and Lucius could see that the older officer knew where the topic would turn. He continued on, “What your people fail to realize is that they have not been locked in a battle for survival for the past twenty years. They have not faced numerically superior forces of dreadnoughts. They have not, in fact, even faced the more modern Republic Liberation Fleet, whose tactics could overwhelm your fighter screen and engage your larger ships.”
Lucius sighed, “We adapted. And yes, your crews have learned and started to adapt as well, but from the standpoint that they know better, that they are only learning our tactics to appease me... and to get along with their new comrades.” He looked over at the scientists, “Or worse, they disregard the new strategic paradigm and draw up ships and equipment which would be an overall mistake.”
Lucius activated his own controls and flipped through the design files for the fighter. “We had discussed use of the Harasser throughout the United Colonies Fleet, but you preferred the use of the Raptor due to parts, equipment and training purposes.” Lucius pulled up the schematics, “I assume you would want to put this new fighter into general production?” He waited until Doctor Wade gave him a nod. “It masses the same as the Raptor, but I can clearly see that it mounts less munitions and is designed for one purpose... to screen the larger ships of this fleet.”
Lucius shook his head, “I want a new design. Take the Harasser and go from there. Get with Matthew Nogita and, god help you, James Harbach. I want to see what this new power plant can do in the Harasser's frame and how your defensive systems would fit in as well. And before you tell me that won't work... I want to see what you can come up with. It's called a fusion of ideas. Make it work, understood?”
Doctor Gaspodschin gave him a sharp, angry nod. Doctor Wade muttered something like an agreement.
Lucius took his seat. “Now... next project.”
***
Reese slammed the door in frustration as he came back into the apartment. He froze, though as he saw Alanis, staring at him with wide eyes. Great, he thought, I thought she was out. He saw her gaze go to the open bottle in his hand. His hand slipped behind his back without him even realizing it at first. When he caught her gaze and realized what he'd done, he felt his ears burn.
“A little early for drinking, isn't it Reese?” Alanis asked, her voice sharp.
He felt a spike of rage at her tone... she sounded just like her brother: calm, collected, and, worst of all, non-judgmental. Before he could stop himself he snapped, “What do you care, aren't you supposed to be dropping off your paperwork today?” In an anachronistic trend, the Academy required potential cadets to hand deliver their packets.
She looked away, “I already did.”
Reese growled and brought his bottle up for a drink. The cheap liquor burned as it worked its way down his throat. He nearly gagged at the flavor... but this was for the oblivion it would bring, not the taste. If he drank enough he would sleep a deep, dreamless sleep. He wouldn't think, he wouldn't worry, and he wouldn't be visited by phantoms.
“Talk to me, Reese,” Alanis said, her voice hoarse with worry. Her tone twisted his heart and he felt tears well up in his eyes. He was hurting her, he knew, and he hated that. Yet what choice did he have? She is destroying me, Reese thought.
Reese lowered the bottle and set it carefully on the dining room table. He looked up and met her dark eyed gaze. “You want to talk. Fine, let us talk.”
“Why won't you accept my decision?” Alanis asked, her voice pleading.
“Because, my love,” Reese said, hoarsely, “We are married, this shouldn't be your decision or my decision... it should be our decision.”
He saw her pinch her lips at that. She had, he knew, already compromised as much as she thought she could. She doesn't realize how little that really is, Reese thought, she's too caught up in the glory of service to realize the big lie.
“I tried to compromise, Reese,” Alanis said in an echo of his thoughts. “Between you and Lucius, I decided to go to the new Academy here on Faraday, to become an officer. What more can you ask?”
“That you not throw your life and our marriage away?” Reese growled. He saw the look of hurt on her face and he sighed. “I'm sorry. It's just...” He trailed off and suddenly he didn't see her at all, he saw his younger brother, Grady. He remembered a similar argument, then, between his father and his brother. His father had railed against Reese for encouraging Grady to join the service... and had never forgiven Reese when the news came of Grady's death at the First Battle of Danar. His father had hung himself only a year later and left a scathing letter condemning the military.
“What?” Alanis asked, somewhat impatiently. Her voice snapped him back out of the past.
Reese met her eyes again and spoke, “We have paid our debts, we have both risked our lives in fighting the Chxor. You've told me about the hell it was getting out of Nova Roma, how many people died so close to freedom. I fought the Chxor and Nova Roma's other enemies for three decades... I'm done. I've paid my dues, we've paid our dues. It's time for someone else to shoulder the burden.”
“Reese,” Alanis shook her head, “This isn't a union or a retirement or something like that, it's the end of Humanity... unless we all stand against it and do our parts. There are no dues, if we don't stand for ourselves, no one else will!”
“That's just the kind of crap that Lucius spouts,” Reese snapped. “Yes, some of the fights are desperate... but extermination? No. There are other people who can hold that off. I bought that line for too long and it's taken me years to realize that if we don't look out for ourselves, rather than everyone else, we'll end up with nothing.”
Her eyes narrowed at his words, “So, what, you want me to turn my back on this place? You want me to set back and watch things collapse when I know that I can make a difference?”
“Yes,” Reese snapped. “I want you to live. I want us to have a family, to enjoy some time together, for the first time in ten years. I want to get a civilian job and provide you the lifestyle you deserve!”
Alanis closed her eyes and shook her head, “No, Reese, you want me to bury my head in the sand. You want us both to party and relax while everything I care about crumbles around me.”
Reese slammed his hand down on the table, “No, dammit, you aren't listening to me!”
“I am, Reese,” Alanis said calmly as she opened her eyes, “But you aren't hearing me and you aren't listening to yourself. You are afraid, afraid of losing me, yet what would happen to me if the United Colonies fell? What happened to me on Nova Roma where they wouldn't let me stand for myself? You want me to be powerless in the hopes that I won't be in a position to be killed... yet if I had power, if I had rank and authority... then it would be my say. It would be up to me as to whether I lived or died.” Her dark eyes flashed with anger, “And worst of all, you judge me as being too weak, too inferior, to make the right decisions and to fight and survive in the military.”
Reese shook his head, “That's not it at all!” Grady hadn't been incompetent or inferior, he just had the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That kind of luck followed far too many of Reese's former friends and companions, many of them to include those who had served and died under Lucius's command. He thought of Jessi Toria, recruited here on Faraday, and how she'd taken a corvette against two Colonial Republic destroyers and a cruiser, and the small memorial service held for her and her people only a month earlier.
“We're done,” Alanis snapped. “Sober up, think about what I said, for a change.” She swept out before Reese could think to stop her. His gaze frantically swept the room. He had to think of something to stop her, something to change her mind. It locked on the bottle, half empty. A hundred emotions and thoughts swept through him–anger, frustration, fear– and he nearly turned and went after her. Yet, as if it had a will of its own, his hand went out to grasp the bottle. He lifted it to his lips and drank deep, the harsh liquid scoured his throat just as it helped to scour his mind. In its embrace, he didn't need to think, didn't need to feel.
Alanis would come around, he knew. She had to... didn't she see what she was doing to him?
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
August 20, 2403
Ensign Alberto Tascon grimaced as the browsed the Faraday network for something to keep himself entertained. He was supposed to be monitoring the United Colonies Fleet communications network in case of a need to react in an emergency... such as an attack. As if anyone would attack us again, Alberto thought, especially after that last pitiful showing.
Granted, there was always the risk of a large scale Chxor or even Balor attack, but the Fleet had handled those just fine, so far, and Alberto had set up a handy program to monitor the communications for a rise in chatter so he would only be a few seconds, at most, behind the communications officers of the other ships. And it wasn't as if the Belgrade was crucial to the war effort. The munitions ship carried additional ammunition for the fighters and capital ships. It wouldn't be needed until after a battle.
In the meantime, he tried to find some morsel of interest in the Faraday global network. On more developed worlds, there would be complete repositories of games, entertainment modules, even archives of old movies or music. All available for a fee, of course.
The Chxor, however, had gutted what little was available since their first visit. And while functionality and data transmission were up and many of those modules were live... they were available for sale only. As if I want to pay for what some backwater programmer could scrap together, Alberto Tascon thought with disgust. More civilized worlds had older networks, with hackers and code slicers who ran each module through their own systems and then broadcast the feed out to those who were willing to trade information for information.
Alberto hated to pay for those programs. He'd managed to do a bit of trading with some of the programs he kept on file before, but now he was having issues even finding someone willing to trade. The United Colonies seemed rather harsh on pirated software. For that matter, the economy was exploding and there were many well-paying jobs for those who knew even the basic rudiments of coding. Alberto had been tempted to set off and start up just such a business.
What had stopped him was the enforcement of patent law. Granted, he could have written all his own code, but that was hard work. He far more easily could have filed off the identifying marks on any number of programs or modules and sold it for his own... except they seemed to want to enforce the patent laws against that sort of thing.
For now, even though he was stuck in a dead-end job on one of the United Colonies military supply ships, he at least had a steady source of income... and the work wasn't particularly difficult. Plus he could use most of the time to himself. The Belgrade's captain seemed oblivious to what most of his crew did... as long as they didn't draw outside attention to his own irregularities. Most of the rest of the crew were caught up in their own methods to pass the time. For that matter, the ship's navigation officer and the executive officer were off the bridge, 'updating charts,' in the executive officer's quarters. From the tap he'd put into the XO's computer camera, the navigation officer was trying very hard to get that promotion she wanted.
Tascon snorted at that. He had thought, after the Baron's big speeches about defending humanity and the great sacrifice of the crews of the Dreyfus Fleet, that every ship would be crewed with stalwart, upstanding people like the Baron seemed to collect. The crew of the Belgrade proved that wrong, at least. Granted, it seemed the ship was a sort of exile, but while the snub irritated Alberto Tascon's sense of self worth, the time to do what he wanted quelled that, to an extent. For that matter, video from various crew indiscretions would be useful as either blackmail material or entertainment modules or both. He had enough on the Captain and the Executive Officer to virtually guarantee a shining evaluation.
Alberto smirked at that, even as he perused through a private forum yet again. The forum's official purpose was to help reunite families and friends who'd been separated by the Chxor occupation. From what Alberto had seen, the primary purpose seemed to be underworld connections. He snorted as he skimmed past what looked like a thinly veiled contract for murder and another that was probably a bounty.
He paused though, at an interesting entry. It asked for information on personnel who had signed on with the Fleet. On the surface it was just another plea for information on missing family. What interested Alberto was the subtext... and the offer of 'commensurate payment.'
It looked like an offer for information. Not just any information... military secrets. Just the kind of military secrets that one communications officer might be able to access... if he were smart about it.
Ensign Alberto Tascon gave a tight, pleased smile. Smart was what he did... and the thought of just how much money he could make made his smile grow broader. He typed a terse message back, saying that he would be willing to put the poster in contact with the people he wanted to find and giving him an outside address for them to discuss things more discreetly.
Alberto licked his lips at the delicious irony of turning his exile against the officers who had snubbed him. Here, he had limitless access to the Fleet's networks and days to work without interruption. This kind of thing could easily get him the money to leave this wretched backwater behind for a more civilized world, perhaps even to live in comfort. He didn't let the consequences worry him. He would be long gone, with a fat bank account, before the information he leaked could be dangerous to him. Besides, it wasn't as if he hadn't betrayed the Baron and his precious United Colonies before.
***
Alanis Giovanni rapped on the door and waited a long, nervous moment.
Her stomach fluttered and she felt the uncertain desire to rush away. She recognized the anxiety for what it was... and she hated the feeling. It came, she knew, from her previous status as a social outcast amongst her 'peers' on Nova Roma. It was a sensation that she had fought against and won, more often than not, by being outspoken and confident.
The door opened and Alanis received an immediate hug, “Lady Giovanni,” Princess Lizmadie stepped back from the hug and gave her a broad smile. “Thank you for coming, please, come inside!”
Alanis returned the smile and followed the Nova Roman Princess into the modest home that she and Captain Anthony Doko had claimed. It was in one of the better neighborhoods and from what she understood, most of the unclaimed homes had been sold on auction, most often to people like Anthony Doko. People of modest backgrounds but with powerful connections and a desire for something tasteful enough to entertain any guests that might come around.
Alanis quirked an eyebrow at the interior decorations. Clearly some came from off-world, though the tasteful organization suggested that the Princess and not her new husband, was the decorator. That sort of thing seemed beyond most men.
“I see you've had some time to settle in?” Alanis asked, as they walked through the foyer. She wanted to pause and admire a bit of sculpture, but she didn't want to be rude. Besides, she was certain she could make time on another visit, if necessary.
“Yes,” the Princess said and Alanis winced at the tone of vitriol underneath her pleasant facade. “Tony and I have had quite a bit of time for it, of late.”
Alanis cleared her throat, but held back an apology. She hoped that the other woman didn't blame her brother. From what little details she'd heard, it sounded as if he'd had no choice. Then again, the rumors that had already moved around Faraday had, no doubt, damaged Anthony Doko's reputation. That was one part of her appearance here. In theory, the sight of the Baron's sister talking with the suspected traitor would ease some of those rumors. Of course, the other half of it, and the reason her husband barely spoke to her of late, was her decision to join the military. She wanted as much of an outside perspective on the decision as possible. Especially with how...unreasonable Reese has been about all this, she thought darkly.
On that thought, she stepped into what had to be the study. The chairs were simple, leather and wood affairs. There were extensive book-cases, as well, though many of them were empty, as yet. Anthony Doko sat at one the chairs. Alanis bit her lip at the sight of him. The normally cheerful man had dark hollows under his eyes and rather than his normal uniform, he wore a casual civilian shirt and slacks. Something like despair flashed across his face before he adopted a friendly expression, “Alanis, good of you to come.”
Alanis gave him a gentle smile, “Thank you and Princess Lizmadie, for having me.” She took the seat across from him. Alanis's eyes caught how the Princess settled close to him and how her hand sought out his. “I was hoping to talk with you, both of you, about my joining the United Colonies Fleet.”
“Yes,” Anthony said, “I remember Lucius mentioned you might drop by.” His smile flickered a bit. “I can't say I'm surprised that you made the decision.” He coughed a bit, “Honestly, though, I feared my own wife might take it into her mind to do the same!”
“Who says she hasn't?” Lizmadie said with a smile.
Anthony gave a chuckle and Alanis felt a twinge at how easily the two communicated. She'd had that or thought she had with Reese. She didn't know if she did anymore and had begun to wonder if she ever really had.
Anthony Doko gave a sniff, “Well, I hope that Lizmadie won't abandon me for the service right away...” His eyes went distant. “Or at least until the current events are settled somewhat.”
Alanis caught how Lizmadie's hand squeezed his, “I wouldn't leave your side, not right now, love.” Yet there was something unsaid and Alanis suddenly wondered if the Princess had already put in her papers.
Alanis smiled warmly at them both, “Well, regardless of your own plans, I wanted some perspective on my own decision and I hoped I could get some advice on... well, what to expect and how to behave.”
Anthony Doko sat a little straighter, “Of course. I would be more than glad to talk to you about my own experience... for that matter, your brother gave me a great deal of mentorship as a young officer.” He cocked his head, suddenly. “Why, may I ask, are you coming to me, rather than him or Reese?”
Alanis rolled her eyes, “It is a bit... difficult, you might say, to go to my brother for this kind of advice.” She looked down and tried to keep her voice level as she answered the other part of his question, “Reese doesn't agree with my decision. He feels that it puts me too much at risk.”
“Ah,” Anthony sat back and he shot a glance at his wife. “I suppose I could understand that, on some level. But...” He trailed off. “Well, it's not my place to butt into that, I suppose.” He cleared his throat again. “Might I ask your reasoning for joining as well as your own personal goals?”
Alanis sat back and gave him a crooked smile, “You're not one to ask the easy questions, are you?” Both Anthony and Lizmadie chuckled a bit, but Alanis adopted a more serious expression. “Honestly, it's something I've spent a lot of nights thinking on, from long before it ever became a possibility.” Alanis met their gazes, “You both, of course, know my family history.” Their nods were unneeded, almost every Nova Roman, knew the tale of Marius Giovanni and his attempt on the throne that should have been his by birth. “Well, one of the results of that was that my requests for a waiver to serve as an officer were rejected summarily.”
“How many requests did you make?” Anthony asked.
“I made one each year since I was old enough to attend the Nova Roma Military Academy,” Alanis said softly. “It got so that, I'm told, they had a special form letter just for me, already stamped and approved waiting for the next year.”
Anthony burst out into laughter, “Somehow, knowing your brother, that doesn't surprise me.”
Alanis smiled in return. “Thanks... I think.” She took a deep breath and her eyes went distant as she remembered what she'd gone through when first her brother had come back in disgrace... and then had been called up again only a few years later. She thought of the late nights, spent in worry that her only family would be extinguished in the dark depths of space around some distant star. She thought of the worry she had felt for her nation as the reports of loss after loss came, in. She turned her dark eyes to meet those of her brother's friend and his wife. “I wanted to serve. I wanted an opportunity, at first, to prove myself and to prove that whatever my father's crimes, that I was not him.” She shrugged, “Later on, as I read and studied more, I wanted the opportunity to do my part, especially as the war with the Chxor grew worse and worse.”
She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Then, Lucius introduced me to Reese Leone, my husband. He was dashing, arrogant, but he treated me like no one else did... he treated me like a human being and he didn't care about my past.” He had, in fact, at times spoken with regret that her father hadn't succeeded. For that matter, Alanis wasn't entirely certain she disagreed from a strictly pragmatic standpoint. “And then there was marriage and happiness and enjoyment... until he and Lucius went out to war again.”
“And I stayed behind... powerless,” Alanis said bitterly. “It seems to be the lot of women in Nova Roma, powerless to help the ones they love, to defend their husbands and children, just as their fathers and brothers defend them.” She sighed “Have you ever heard what happened to my mother?” Neither of them spoke, so she continued, “My mother, Lady Belisma, was my father's confidant. My grandmother told me often how they loved one another... yet on the eve of his treason he never told her a word. He left her in the dark... so that when he failed, she was left with nothing to tell the investigators. She was cleared of any wrong-doing... but that didn't stop her from taking her own life. She had no power to affect the outcome, no ability to avenge her husband, and nothing to give to her children besides a legacy of disgrace.”
They sat in silence for a long moment. Finally, Anthony spoke, “Well, I can honestly say you have a better thought out reason than most to join the military.” He looked up, “What's your intention and goals in the service, though?”
Alanis shrugged, “I was tempted to try to escape the shadow of my brother and father and go into the Marines...” She chuckled at the shocked expression on Anthony Doko's face. She also made mental note about the guarded expression on Princess Lizmadie's face. “Oh, does a courtly lady working with the jar-heads shock you so much, Tony?”
He shook his head, “A bit, I must admit. The Marines are not known for their... civility, I suppose might be the best term.”
“Indeed,” Alanis said. She didn't bring up the fact that her grandmother's groundskeepers were retired Marines and that their tutelage of her and her brother had spared them little in the way of civility. “In any case, I've studied extensively and I think my skills would be more applicable to service aboard ship.” Alanis shrugged, somewhat self-consciously. “I actually have made use of copies of my brother's training simulations as well as whatever training programs I could find. I've managed a fairly decent turnout, considering I had no formal training.”
Anthony gave a slow nod. “That's good to know. And I have a set of simulations I've been allowed to access and train on here at home. I could certainly evaluate your preparedness. For that matter, I feel confident that you are probably better prepared than most, just in that you have thought through how to prepare yourself.”
“She's pretty damned good at actual ship-handling, too,” Lizmadie said confidently. “She was the one on the helm of the Emperor Romulus on our breakout from Nova Roma, until we had some of the others step forward with a bit more experience.”
“I do have a pilot's license,” Alanis grudgingly admitted, “But it's from an online course. I didn't want to risk drawing attention to myself or Lucius, especially when Imperial Security started looking for Chxor collaborators.” She started to speak up about Lizmadie's skills at hacking, but decided better. Either her husband knew or the Princess would want to keep those skills quiet.
“Understandable,” Anthony responded. “Alright. Well, how about you come back here next week? I'll set up a series of simulations and we'll see how you do?” There was more energy to his voice than when she had come in. For that matter, there was a spark to his eyes.
Alanis gave him a smile, “Bring it on.”
***
Chapter V
Port Klast
Port Klast
August 21, 2403
As the shuttle ramp dropped, a young woman in a professional-looking, dark green uniform strode up it and extended a letter to Lauren, “Thomas Kaid was intrigued to hear that Stavros Heraklion has returned to Port Klast. You may report to your master that he is invited to dine with him tonight.”
“Uh, thanks,” Lauren said.
The woman turned away and a swarm of official-looking men and women approached. They started to force their way aboard but Lauren stood her ground, while her hands went to her slung rifle. Mason had said that the locals didn't care how well armed you went, so she carried a small arsenal.
The man in the lead adopted a pinched expression. “I am here to do a cargo inspection for any cargo you plan to transship, Stavros.”
Behind her, she heard Mason speak. “I haven't any cargo aboard my shuttle at the moment, it's still up on the Kraken, you can inspect it when we bring it down. I personally vouch that it contains no hazards.”
“Your file indicates that your word is only good as long as you are still within sight,” the official growled. “So you'll understand why I cannot allow you to disembark without an inspection.”
Mason adopted a hurt expression, “Since when is the word of Stavros Heraklion not trusted in these parts?”
“Since you, apparently, slipped osmium powder past my predecessor,” the official said. “Additionally, docking and orbit fees are due in advance and Stavros' outstanding account balance is due as well,” he finished. “Until you pay, a lien has been placed upon your cargo, your shuttle, and your ship.”
Mason coughed, “Ah, well, the outstanding balance is just a minor mistake, I'll clear that up as soon as I sell my cargo.”
The man behind the official gave a little bow. He was short and stocky but wore an impeccable suit. Something about his cold, dark eyes gave Lauren a chill, “I am Mister Akula , from Haifisch, Tiburon, and Squalo. I represent a client's case against one Stavros Heraklion, which the courts of Port Klast have already resolved, for damages upon your last visit here. The outstanding charges, plus interest, are due upon receipt. We also have a lien upon your cargo, shuttle, and ship.” His polite smile seemed to have too many teeth. Bloodsucking lawyer, Lauren thought, only thing worse than the Chxor.
“I assume you represent Kinere,” Mason said and waved an arm flamboyantly, “You can tell that bastard that Stavros doesn't owe him a damned thing!”
“The courts have said otherwise,” Akula said. “If this is an official refusal to pay I would have to contact Defense Control and request that you be detained and your ship impounded...”
“Ah, no,” Mason said. “I am sure this is just a misunderstanding. I will, temporarily, authorize payment from my account here...”
“Your account is overdrawn,” the woman behind Akula said. “I represent PKS Banking Services. It seems that on your last departure, you transferred a number of funds through several of your accounts, including a falsified loan request, in order to overdraw funds. As a result, PKS Banking Services has placed a lien on your shuttle, your ship, and your cargo.” She smiled slightly, “Additionally, the loan amount is due, with accrued interest and fees.” Bankers, Lauren thought, only slightly better than lawyers.
“A slanderous slur, I assure you!” Mason said. As the banker opened her mouth to reply, he held up his hand, “But, despite these imputations upon my honor, I will ensure payment, that people know that Stavros Heraklion is an honest businessman.” He coughed again, “This will, however, require that I transship my cargo down now. I was intending to speak to potential buyers, first.”
“Traffic Control has authorized me to certify your cargo for sale and place it in a secure warehouse,” the official said. “If it doesn't meet the outstanding debts, then you will be required to surrender your vessel.”
“Of course,” Mason said, his voice with just a slight edge of trepidation. Lauren couldn't tell if it was real or feigned. At this point, she halfway wondered if she and Mason would be sold as wage-slaves to pay off a dead pirates debts. “I'll have to go up and retrieve it.”
“Be advised, now that you have been served, you are considered bound by Port Klast law. If you attempt to leave without payment of your debts, force will be utilized to detain you,” the official said.
“I understand,” Mason said. He glanced at Lauren, “Make the shuttle ready, I assume our guests will remain aboard?” All three nodded.
Lauren pulled down the bench seating and ensured all three were strapped in before she moved to the copilot seat behind Mason. “Are we in trouble?” she asked.
“Of course not, my dear,” Mason replied. “I am absolutely certain that our cargo will cover these trivial debts.” His voice was just loud enough that Lauren figured the three might hear, especially if they had bugs or listening devices. He lowered his voice, but it still was his Stavros accent, “Besides, if we try to run, they'd blast us before we could even power up our engines.” She wondered if that was said for her sake or if it was said for listening devices any of the three might wear.
Lauren wondered how much of this was Mason's plan and how much he just managed to react to along the way. For that matter, she wondered if he could react to all this. Surely the bank had some biometrics on Stavros, would they compare them and realize this wasn't the real man? Biometrics were a standard in banking, even in the Colonial Republic. For that matter, she wondered if anyone had any information on her. She wasn't traveling under a false name, just a basic set of identity papers that Mason had given her upon their departure from Anvil. It had her name and her actual birthplace. Would someone connect that to Baron Giovanni?
They landed in the Kraken's hangar bay without issue. A moment later, Lauren opened the hatch to find that the crew had already begun to stack heavy boxes, ready to be loaded aboard. Mason gave a broad wave, “As you can see, gentlemen, I have ample cargo to pay these trifling debts.”
None of the three looked impressed. Then again, Lauren had to admit there wasn't much to be seen. About a dozen heavy plastic boxes about the length of a coffin, each with handles on either end for four men to carry them. Stavros stepped forward and gestured at the first box. Two of Khalid's men came forward and undogged the hasps that held the crate closed and opened it at Stavros's flourish.
The contents didn't look particularly impressive to Lauren. Cubes of some kind of transparent material, each cradled in a nest of foam.
“Gentlemen and Lady,” Stavros said, “Optical computing cores from Tau Ceti. Each certified by lot number, serial number, and with data from their initial run test.” He looked around at them for a moment, “Each core has one hundred etaflops processing power. A computer with one of these would be unparalleled for weapons, navigation, virtually any use.” Lauren felt her eyes widen at that. She didn't know much about computers, but she did know that computers were one of the main limitations with building a warship. Weapons and other large parts required industrial resources, but complex computers were required to run those systems, and more capable systems allowed for better overall performance.
The nameless traffic control official nodded. “Acceptable. I will need to inspect certificates on all of the crates as well as have an expert verify the goods.” He consulted his datapad, “Assuming that these are not fakes, they should cover your outstanding debts with some moderate quantity left over assuming reasonable sale prices.”
Stavros gave a big smile and Lauren didn't bother to restrain a sigh. She had the feeling that the sales would be done ineptly, probably by an over-eager Stavros, quick to get cash in hand. That would leave them with little money and fewer options. Already she could see why Mason had hated the man... she hated him and he didn't even really exist anymore.
“Right, thank you,” Stavros said. “We'll begin transferring our cargo to the planet, you fine gentlemen can ensure it goes to the warehouse, and then I can do some business, right?”
The banker and the lawyer both looked pleased with themselves. Lauren figured that they both personally received some cut of the money. Mason had said that Port Klast ran on money and she was starting to see why. The agent hadn't so much as asked where Stavros came by the cargo, just that it was authentic and therefore valuable. On the one hand, she approved of the efficiency, on the other, some part of her wondered if the planet's freedoms went too far. Then again, there was a reason it served as a haven to pirates all across human space.
She just wondered how far she would have to go... and whether Mason had already become lost in his persona as Stavros.
***
Stavros Heraklion straightened his shirt collar in the mirror and adjusted a bit of his oiled hair that had gotten mussed during the cargo offloading. Not that Stavros would actually descend to manual labor, of course, but the wild gesticulating at his crew had mussed him a bit.
Mason McGann contemplated his act and decided that it would have to do. The official and the bank and lawyer flunkies were the opening show. Now he had to maintain it... and that was an altogether different beast. While he found Stavros repugnant personally, there were things about Stavros that Mason knew called to the darker parts of his own soul. Not his over-confident flamboyance, but a measure of his charm and his callousness. Part of Mason saw no problem with how Stavros would use anyone around him as one more object or resource. That was the part that Mason had fought so hard for so long within himself. The real danger, for Mason, wasn't discovery, it was uncovering his darker side and giving it free reign.
He looked up at a knock at the bathroom door. He opened it to find Lauren with a scowl on her face. “There's a delivery man at the door. I don't remember ordering anything.”
“I did,” Mason said. He hid a smile at her irritation. Lauren needed to learn to lighten up a bit. The more she clung to her anger, the more she'd find in life to be angry about. He stepped past her and then to the hotel room door. Even though he expected the delivery, he stepped to the side as he opened the door. Port Klast frowned upon murder, but that didn't mean that one of Stavros's enemies wouldn't go that far. For that matter, there was a time that I did murder and worse here, Mason thought.
The delivery man extended a package. Before Mason could take it, Lauren stepped forward with a scanner. She's taken to the bodyguard part fairly well, Mason thought. She stepped back a moment later, “Clear.”
Mason stepped forward and signed for the package and closed the door. Then he tossed the package to Lauren. She caught it and stared at it uncertainly, “For me?” At his nod, she opened it. Mason smirked at the look of shock on her face as she stared down at the crimson dress in the box. She looked up sharply, “Seriously, a dress?”
Mason gave a shrug, “The invitation to the party with Thomas Kaid specifies formal dress for myself and my 'guest.' Most people will be bringing either a well-paid escort, a bodyguard, or both in one. You need to look the part.”
He saw a mixture of discomfort on her face, “I'm not sure if it'll fit.” She flushed a bit, “Dresses aren't something I've much experience with.” How could she, Mason thought, being raised on a world dominated by the Chxor? Luxury goods such as nice clothing would have been one of the first things to disappear. He'd heard that the Chxor often seized such goods for destruction though rumors suggested the corrupt ones resold it to human smugglers.
“It'll fit,” Mason said calmly, “I put in your measurements myself. Also, there's a pair of shoes your size in the bottom.”
“How do you know...” Lauren shook her head. “Alright. Fine, I'll give it a try.” She coughed a bit, “The shoes...”
“They're stylish but comfortable, so you should be able to wear them without issue,” Mason said gently. He'd figured she would have little experience wearing the high heels that most would wear for the evening. “I've also arranged an appointment at a boutique for this afternoon. I think I'll be fine without your protection for the sales of the cargo.”
He saw her eyes narrow, but he spoke before she could answer, “The others at the party will have spent serious money to impress one another... you need to look the part.”
“What about you?” She finally asked, her voice sharp.
Mason smiled and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, “Oh, no need to worry, my dear, Stavros will look the part as well.” Not that Mason personally liked the gaudy costume he'd picked out. But Stavros's taste in clothing was almost as infamous as his piracy. Even more, Mason thought, in the right circles, like the people who will be there tonight.
“Now,” Mason said, “I'll let you try on the dress and then get to the appointment. I should be back by the time you return and we'll show the elite of Port Klast what kind of man Stavros Heraklion is... in case any of them have forgotten.”
***
“Captain Stavros Heraklion and Miss Kelly,” the attendant announced.
Mason caught the turn of heads throughout the assembled guests. Many of them went to Lauren first, where some lingered for longer than was strictly necessary for an escort. Which is understandable, Mason thought, Lauren looks magnificent when she's properly made up. The expensive crimson dress showed off her curves while still having a sense of elegance. The boutique had arranged her brown hair into artful curls that accentuated the soft curves of her face. After her, almost every gaze lingered on him, a long moment of calculated evaluation that, in a man with any sense of shame, would have felt oppressive.
For a man like Stavros, however, that attention would have been intoxicating. “Ah, such a quaint party,” Mason said. He looked over at Lauren, “It was much bigger last time I bothered to come. Better music and more important guests,” he swept his gaze across the assemblage and their finery and he let loose a sneer, even as he searched for the true players of the night. “They had a roast Opuchi Neosaur as well.”
All the eyes seemed to lock on him. He saw a variety of expressions, from disgust to piqued interest to calculation on the faces of most.
No doubt his own dress, or lack thereof, drew some of that. The tight, glossy red leather pants were something of an eyesore, he knew. The golden sheen of his vest, open down to his navel, no doubt attracted a bit more attention. No doubt his hairy chest, oiled and perfumed, garnered the rest. Mason knew that most of the guests wouldn't believe he'd dressed like this on purpose. He himself wouldn't have believed Stavros's taste, except he'd seen him at one of these events dressed even worse. It was fortunate that Stavros and he could pass for body doubles, else he would never have made the attempt.
At the expressions of shock on some of the faces, Mason allowed a smirk onto his lips. His smirk widened as he noticed Lucretta Mannetti off to one side, deep in discussion with a man he recognized. She'd broken off and stared at Stavros with an expression of mingled shock and interest. Well, Mason thought, there's no accounting for taste.
Mason led the way to the bar, “I'll have two glasses of ouzo and...” he turned to Lauren, “What would you like, my dear?”
“Water,” Lauren growled.
Mason smiled, “And soda water for my companion.” He leaned close to the bartender and spoke loud enough for the nearer guests to hear, “She thinks I drink too much. What can I say, she doesn't understand that her role is to guard my body, not my liver?”
The bartender gave him a polite smile and after a moment produced the drinks. Mason knocked them back, one after the other and hid a grimace. He hated the sickly sweet taste of ouzo. Still, as the raw liquor worked its way through his body, he welcomed a bit of the warm glow. Got to be careful, he thought, my tolerance is shot if those two drinks hit me already. He turned to Lauren, “Let's circulate, shall we?”
She leaned close, “I look like a prostitute in this dress and with this makeup.”
“Nonsense, my dear,” Mason said, his voice loud, “You look magnificent, very high class. They,” he gestured with an arm at several of the women to one side, “look like prostitutes.” He caught the instant venom in the glares from the insulted women. Yet it was true enough, the various wives and girlfriends had gone the fashion route of maximum skin and minimal cloth, most of that arranged in places that did little to conceal. A couple of them looked decidedly chilly.
Mason strutted over towards one man he recognized, “Jonathan Kinere! You weasel, how dare you show your face here!” The weasel in question looked up and something of a deer in the headlights expression on his face. He and Stavros had run in similar circles, but had something of a disagreement. Judging by the fines he'd had to pay, Kinere had gone at least somewhat legitimate, but Stavros wouldn't see it that way. “You send your lawyers to take a pound of flesh, but you aren't brave enough to claim it yourself?” He strode right up into the other man's face as he talked, his arms swinging wildly as he gesticulated.
From his expression, Jonathan Kinere was suddenly devoutly wishing that the invitation hadn't specified a lack of weapons. Mason leaned over the shorter man, “Trust me, Kinere, I won't forget this. I'll see you ruined. Over such a petty thing, too!”
The weasel in question straightened, “You slept with my wife.”
“Something that would not be an issue except you made something of it...” Mason said. “After all, many men have slept with your wife.” It was true, as far as Mason knew. From the chuckles in the crowd around them, it was still a common occurrence.
“You recorded it.” Kinere ground out. “And you leaked it onto the networks of a dozen worlds. You tried to destroy my reputation, Stavros. And if I have my way, I'll destroy you.”
“Well,” Mason said. “You are welcome to try. Perhaps we could discuss this at another time? Your wife has my communications code still, I believe.”
Kinere flushed even darker, “I will remember this, Stavros.”
“Excellent!” Mason smirked. “I should think you would. Run along now.” He waved a hand and Kinere backed off, though from the scowl on his face, his rage at Stavros was rekindled. I'd be afraid, except he is a self-important weasel, Mason thought. Jonathan wouldn't risk his own neck in a duel and he'd be too nervous at getting caught to hire assassins. Mason had his own dislike of the man, so it cost him nothing at all to humiliate him.
Mason figured that he had probably established Stavros well enough. He turned and began to walk through the crowd. “Captain Stavros,” a woman's voice called.
Mason turned, to find that Lucretta Mannetti had worked her way through the crowd. “That was an impressive display there with Kinere. You do know that he's taken over the Exchange here on Port Klast, right?”
Mason shrugged expansively, “So what if he has?”
“Any goods you're selling or buying will likely go through him,” Mannetti said, her eyes narrow. She was evaluating him, Mason knew, seeing how he measured up to the rumors.
“Perhaps,” Mason said, “But I've sold my cargo already. And there are other buyers and traders to do business with on Port Klast. I need not go through the Exchange, I can find buyers on my own.” He cocked his head, “And who might you be, my dear? You don't hold yourself like a courtesan... and I think that uniform is out of regulation.” She wore the black uniform of the Nova Roma Imperial Fleet, but it was heavily tailored, with a low-cut collar to show off her assets and pants that were almost skin tight. She also had an impressive rack of medals... though from what Mason had heard, all of them were earned.
“I'm Admiral Lucretta Mannetti,” she responded and extended her hand.
Mason took it in one hand and bowed floridly over it. He kissed the back of her hand and felt the thready pulse in her wrist. “Delightful to meet you, Admiral.”
She pulled her hand away quickly, yet the smile on her face suggested she found him amusing at least. “You, as well, Stavros. From what I understand, you've avoided the area since you ran afoul of Tommy King.”
Mason let his smirk fade. He locked his jaw and looked away, “That bastard told me that if he saw me again, he'd kill me. Kill me. As if I had any fear of him.” He dropped his tone, “In truth, he went after my bases, threatened my fences, even hijacked a my supply ship from here on Port Klast. I would have been ruined if I hadn't left.”
“Hmm, but now that he's gone, you drag yourself back?” Her tone was derisive.
Mason stood up straight, “My lady, you have obviously been ill-informed. I marauded my way across the southern edge of the Colonial Republic until their trade dried up. I have made a fine sale of my remaining cargo here. I'll soon hire on a crew and do the same here, where I understand the fall of Nova Roma has left a glut of ships and worlds ripe for the taking.”
She stared at him for a long, uncertain moment. Finally she nodded her head, “Well, best of luck to you, Captain Stavros. And enjoy the remainder of your evening.”
“What was that?” Lauren asked.
“She wanted to evaluate me, to see how I measure up to my legend,” Mason said. “Now she knows what Stavros is capable of and she will remember me.” Ideally, she'd remember his tendency to burn bridges, so when he signed on with someone else's organization, it would make sense, especially if he couldn't sell a cargo. He turned to Lauren, “Let's meet the rest, shall we?”
***
They paused some time later, while Lauren fixed the various dignitaries of the room with a baleful gaze and Mason sampled drinks at the bar. Most such events, the alcohol would be medium quality, good enough that most folks wouldn't complain. Thomas Kaid's bartenders set out only the finest, with exceptions only for availability. As always, Mason noted, Thomas Kaid had impeccable taste.
“Captain Stavros, Miss Kelly, Thomas Kaid extends an offer to join his private party,” a polite voice said. Mason turned to find a short man, attired in Thomas Kaid's colors of forest green.
“I thought this was his private party?” Lauren asked sharply.
Mason grinned, “This is the outer ring, but Thomas Kaid is rather more selective about who graces his presence, eh?” He leaned forward and clapped the young man on the shoulder.
The messenger didn't so much as flinch and the solid muscle Mason felt suggested that he was probably security, doing double duty. Mason felt a bit of unease as he contemplated facing up to Thomas Kaid, one on one. The reclusive man rarely dealt with those he considered his inferiors... and as the defacto ruler of Port Klast, there were few he considered his equal. He had, on occasion, been known to meet with those he found interesting or amusing. He had, as far as Mason knew, never met with Stavros before.
“Well, let's get to the nicer party, shall we?” Mason asked in a too-loud tone and with a broad wave. He lurched a bit as he got up from the stool, though it wasn't as much of a ruse as he would have liked. Definitely lost some of my tolerance, but I suppose that's the price to pay for avoiding it entirely for so many years, Mason thought.
They followed the young man out through one of the side doors and then down a series of short corridors. The Jade House, Thomas Kaid's palace, was an elaborate building. Mason knew well that it's corridors, halls, and courtyards were a labyrinth to guests and potential invaders alike. Mason had been through these corridors before and prided himself in his sense of direction, yet even so, after they came to the end of what looked like a cul de sac, Mason was completely lost.
Lauren gave him a raised eyebrow and Mason just gave her an impassive shrug.
The young man typed a command into an unobtrusive key pad and a section of paneling opened. The young man stepped to the side and gestured for them to enter the hidden passageway.
Mason led the way and put as much swagger into his step as possible. Selling his role was essential right now, as Mason had little doubt that various scanners were focused upon him and Lauren. He had little doubt what Thomas Kaid's response would be, should he decide that they weren't the people he had invited.
The corridor opened up in another of the Jade House's innumerable courtyards. This one had a number of large water fountains as well as dense, lush foliage that gave the open areas a sense of privacy. Broad, tiled paths led through the concealing brush, with ornate stone columns that lit up the evening air. They emerged into a small clearing and another man in Thomas Kaid's colors gestured for them to wait.
Before Mason had really come to a halt, a small group came down a path. Several of the men wore tan khaki uniforms, though at their head walked a tall, blonde woman in civilian clothing. Next to him walked another man. He was tall and well muscled, with pale blue eyes, his face was tanned and his gray-streaked beard was neatly trimmed. He wore a perfectly fitted charcoal-colored suit with a tie the color of dried blood.
As he drew closer, Mason could hear the last bit of their conversation. “Of course, Councilor Penwaithe, I understand your dilemma, and I will make certain the right sorts of ships and captains are the ones that I assist you to recruit.” Thomas Kaid stopped and shook hands with the woman. “I will also see to sale of goods and be certain that your traders are dealt with fairly by those of Port Klast.”
“Thank you, sir,” the woman said. “The people of my world, my people, will not forget your help.”
“These are hard times, Councilor Penwaithe,” Thomas Kaid said with a smile. His white, perfect teeth stood out starkly from his tanned face and perfectly trimmed, gray-streaked beard. “We must work together, as much as possible. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another appointment. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He gave the counselor a polite nod and turned away. Several of his men escorted those guests past Mason and Lauren and down the passageway they had entered.
Mason caught the frown of distaste from the woman as she walked past. Here to deal with Thomas Kaid, Mason thought, but she doesn't like pirates... interesting.
“Captain!” Thomas Kaid called, his voice friendly, “Come, walk with me!”
Mason stepped forward and fell in beside the other man. Lauren walked a few paces behind and several of Kaid's guards unobtrusively took up positions around them as they walked. As Mason had remembered, Kaid was a master of body language. He managed to guide them down another path without any outward gestures or words.
They walked in silence for a long while, their soft footsteps on the flagstones accompanied only by the patter of water in the fountains and the gentle rustle of the plants in an unseen breeze. The setting should have put him at ease, yet Mason felt ever more uncomfortable the further they walked. Thomas Kaid was a busy man, one who almost never wasted time. Also, Thomas Kaid was known to be scrupulously honest and the fact that he had not extended them an offer of safety or friendship suddenly held ominous tones. When he finally chose to speak, Mason had to restrain a sigh of relief.
“I was very interested to hear that Captain Stavros Heraklion and his ship the Kraken had returned to my world,” Thomas Kaid said.
“Yes, well,” Mason said, with a broad gesture, “Your own hospitality is renowned and the ability to sell a valuable cargo cannot be overstated, especially not in these times.”
“Oh, very understandable,” Thomas Kaid said. “What intrigued me, however, was not your cargo or even that I've traced it to a lot pirated over a decade ago... no what intrigued me was that I have it on very good word that Captain Tommy King killed Stavros and took his ship, almost fifteen years back. As you might imagine, I wanted to meet this dead man walking... and to figure out why Tommy King has returned to my world, why he chose an alias, and just what his current companion has to do with all this.”
Mason bit his tongue on a denial. Kaid wouldn't have said that if he didn't have some kind of proof and a lie to his face would not only be seen through at this point, it would be insulting. The last thing that Mason wanted to do right now was to insult the most powerful man on the planet. Especially when he, no doubt, has several men positioned in the brush ready to take me down if he thinks I'm here for him, Mason thought. He let out a slight sigh, “Honestly? I'm here to infiltrate Admiral Lucretta Mannetti's forces and see what she's up to. I was tipped off, by her associate, Admiral Collae, that she's got something big planned.”
“Interesting,” Thomas Kaid said. He cocked his head and stared at Mason for a long while. “I'd heard all kinds of rumors about your demise... and seen all sorts of young upstarts claiming your mantle, claiming even, to be you. You disappear for almost a decade, then come back trying to take down a pirate?” He looked over at Lauren. “And you, Miss Kelly? What brings you here, in such illustrious company? I would assume, given what I've been able to find on your background, that it was paranoia rather than the intent to murder me in my own home that caused you to bring the AeroTech polymer frame pistol you have in the back holster under your gown.”
Mason felt his heart stop. He had specifically told her not to bring weapons. He glanced at Lauren and saw her tense. Part of her, he knew, wanted to go for that pistol, but it would be suicide.
At last, however, she relaxed a bit, “Sir, despite your invitation, I don't go anywhere unarmed, not since I fought for my freedom from the Chxor.” Her chocolate brown eyes met those of Thomas Kaid levelly and without flinching.
“Interesting,” Thomas Kaid said. “And understandable. You will, however, forgive me for having several sharpshooters trained on you for the duration of your stay. A man in my circumstances cannot be too careful. I would avoid any sudden moves... probably best to avoid scratching anywhere near your spine as well.”
“Of course,” Lauren said. Mason had to bite down on a chuckle at the graciousness she put into her words. As if he had apologized for a lack of her favorite dish.
“In the future, however,” Thomas Kaid said. “I would suggest you abide by the rules of my invitation.... or decline to attend. It sets a bad precedent to allow you leave here alive after defying me. Gives the wrong sort of people ideas. So if I hear you or Captain King have told anyone, I'll ensure you both die for it, understood?” Lauren gave him a nod and Thomas Kaid turned back to Mason. “Now then, let's continue our walk, shall we?”
He led the way along the path and his eyes studied the fountains as he spoke, “I understand Admiral Collae's unease with his associate. Lady Kail, gracious a guest as she is, has the heart of a snake, I'm afraid.” He looked over at Mason again, “I told her that once and she found it highly amusing.”
“Oh?” Mason asked.
“Yes,” Thomas Kaid said. “She enjoys the intrigue and manipulation... and she likes to receive praise for her skill. Something to keep in mind as you go against her.”
“You don't mind me taking her down?” Mason asked. Thomas Kaid was a businessman and a ruler. He controlled Port Klast and the system relied upon pirates like Lucretta Mannetti.
“She's too dangerous in the long term,” Thomas Kaid said. “Don't forget, I've actually fought her back when she was still outwardly loyal to the Nova Roma Empire. She even managed to scrape a tactical victory, though I achieved my strategic goals. I've taken her measure: she's ambitious, self-centered, and without the slightest touch of morality. Sooner or later she would attempt to seize Port Klast. A pirate like Tommy King, driven by anger and bitterness, that is a quantity that I can manage in the long term. Even a self-centered, pompous ass like Stavros was better than Mannetti... much less Mannetti working with Collae.” Thomas Kaid shook his head. “Though, with you as you are now, being trailed around by this one...” His eyes narrowed, “It makes for a more interesting paradigm, though you're no real threat to me.”
Mason raised an eyebrow, “I'm no threat?”
“Please,” Thomas Kaid gave him a level look. “You've run around as a broke smuggler for a half-dozen years on a battered old freighter. You became involved in whatever that business was with the Dreyfus Fleet and this new United Colonies. You've one of their agents with you now, for that matter. I don't know if you sickened of it or if you're just playing for different goals... but it doesn't matter. You're a predator, but you've no designs upon my territory. At worst, your companion will no doubt tell me of the joys of signing on with her Baron Giovanni.”
“You should,” Lauren said, her voice soft. “There are many threats that you can't face alone.” Mason thought of the Balor and the Chxor and the Shadow Lords. Then again, Thomas Kaid had faced down Amalgamated Worlds... so perhaps there was some balance.
“When you get a bit of time, look up some history books on how well I get along with Amalgamated Worlds Fleet elements.” Thomas Kaid said with a dry tone. “If even a few of the rumors are true, there's a few hundred thousand people that will want my head on a stick. No, I'm quite comfortable out here in my exile.” He smirked and extended his arms, as if to encompass the planet, “And with all this, how could I not be?”
“So, you don't mind me going after Mannetti, would you care to give me any help?” Mason asked hopefully. He felt confident he could accomplish it on his own, but help from Kaid would go a long way, he knew. Also, the man was scrupulously honest and as long as Mason held up his side of any bargain, he wouldn't betray him. Though, of course, the other man was known to have certain grudges....
Thomas Kaid gave him a level look, “I would offer you something of a trade.”
Mason felt his stomach roil, “You don't mean goods, do you?”
“I've yet to complete my own revenge,” Thomas Kaid said. “You know who I want. I could give you what you need on a platter.”
“No,” Mason said and looked away.
Thomas Kaid spat, “Loyalty... to someone who deserves none.”
“We are at something of cross purposes, in that regard,” Mason said. “And you wouldn't trust me if I were to betray him, would you?”
“Betray who?” Lauren asked.
“Captain King, here, had a unique makeup of his alliance of pirates. Many were former Amalgamated Worlds officers,” Thomas Kaid said. “When you do your research on me, be sure to look up what Amalgamated Worlds did to me to make me the monster I am.” There was a hard edge to Thomas Kaid's voice. Mason recognized the anger and rage there, but worse, in a way, was the echo of hurt. Mason knew full well that Thomas Kaid deserved his revenge, but that didn't change things.
“Since we can't come to an agreement on this, I suppose I'm on my own,” Mason said. “I assume you'll keep your knowledge private?”
“Of course,” Thomas Kaid said. “The irony is too delicious, especially what with you prancing about in those god-awful pants. I'd hate to out you, no one would ever respect you again and respect is the one commodity I'll not take from anyone.” He quirked an eyebrow, “Are you certain you're not overdoing it?”
Mason looked down at his shiny gold vest and tight, red leather pants and shrugged, “Stavros was Greek.”
“Ah, yes, the Greeks,” Thomas Kaid nodded sagely, “Famously ostentatious.”
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
August 25, 2403
“Baron,” Admiral Dreyfus said, “Are you certain about this?”
“Certain about bumping up our timeline and attacking Melcer while still undergoing repairs and refits from our battle with the Balor?” Lucius asked in return. “Or am I certain about what we spoke about again last night?”
Admiral Dreyfus looked around the flag bridge. The two of them were in a pocket of isolation as the various crew moved about their duties and preparations. That didn't mean that the others didn't notice their discussion or, for that matter, were unable to read their body language. Lucius stood calmly, but Admiral Dreyfus's shoulders were set and tension was clear in how he stood.
For that matter, so was his uncertainty. Admiral Dreyfus finally let out a sigh, “Both, I suppose.” He pitched his voice low enough that it didn't carry. Lucius took his seat and gestured for the older Admiral to do the same.
“Pushing up the attack on Melcer is the best method I can think of to catch our opponents, whoever they are, off balance,” Lucius said calmly. “If they knew our departure time, if this informant exists, then they would expect us to use that time or delay. Either way, they could plan to hit Faraday with a raid based upon our expected departure.”
Admiral Dreyfus grimaced, “That's assuming they don't already have craft in the system. Despite our patrols, there are plenty of places in this system for a sizable force to hide.”
“Hide, yes, but to what purpose? I could imagine a scout, probably multiple scouts from various nations to take our measure. But keeping warships here for any sizable time would be a serious investment, especially with any uncertainty over our eventual departure,” Lucius said calmly. He had thought it through, himself. “Besides, we have the Nova Roma Fleet assets here. Their ships are almost repaired, they can certainly secure the system during our absence.”
“Assuming they don't claim it for themselves,” Admiral Dreyfus growled.
“Which brings us to what I discussed before,” Lucius said. He met the Admiral's gaze until the other man looked away. “There is a sharp divide between our personnel of Amalgamated Worlds background and those recruited from Faraday and Nova Roma.”
“There is nothing wrong with my people,” Admiral Dreyfus responded sharply.
Lucius waited a moment, “Except they're 'your' people... even you don't really think of them as United Colonies personnel. They've served under you for almost a century... and most of them view their recently recruited comrades as hard-working but ineffective at best.” The Admiral opened his mouth to speak, but Lucius continued, “How could they not? They left Amalgamated Worlds when it was intact, to appearances at the height of its power. They return to find degenerate empires, warlords, and technology that is either crude in comparison or kludged together from scavenged technology and barely understood physics. They wouldn't be human if they didn't blame those they left behind, somehow, or those who they found trying to clean up the mess when they returned to the rest of us.”
Admiral Dreyfus looked away. “I can't deny there is some... thoughts, perhaps even discussion about that, but there is no organized attempt to block your personnel out.”
“Again,” Lucius said, his voice level, “The identification of distinct personnel is part of the issue. There is not 'my' personnel and 'your' personnel. There can only be United Colonies personnel. It is a mentality... and if you and I can't adopt that mentality, then how can we expect our subordinates to do so?”
“So, what?” Admiral Dreyfus asked. “What you're asking is difficult, there are massive differences in training and experience between... between individual officers and enlisted. Hell, the technical experience and backgrounds are wildly different. Those differences can be the matter of life and death!”
“In more ways than one,” Lucius answered. “You are thinking of the differences between using your technology and mine... I'm thinking of applications, of joint applications of that technology. You're thinking differences in operational procedures while I'm thinking differences in tactics. And, Admiral, for all your people's training and experience, they haven't nearly the combat experience of some of the people they discount out of hand.”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded slightly, “It is not something that is easy for any of us to admit, that we trained in tactics that are... obsolete.” His lips were pinched in distaste and Lucius understood that feeling of waste. The Nova Roma Imperial Fleet had faced a similar issue when they had gone to war with the Chxor. They, unfortunately, had not adapted and the end result was the present circumstances. Lucius had seen officers who knew that they didn't have the right paradigm for their doctrine, but they went about it the only way they knew. It got far too many otherwise good officers and men killed.
“Not obsolete, but we need to rethink some of the applications. The underlying principles of offense and defense have not changed, merely, the applications.” Lucius let out a sigh. “Right now, the people with the mindset that they're humanities champions, their last hope... they've clung to that for so long that they don't want to accept anyone else into their brotherhood. For that matter, they can't admit mistakes, especially not to themselves. We have to change that, turn it around, or things are going to get much worse than a few hurt feelings.”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded slowly. “Very well, Baron. I see your point.” He looked around the flag bridge and Lucius could see some of the pain in his eyes, “It's just that we gave up so much and it is so agonizing to see how far we have to go to achieve victory.”
“I understand,” Lucius said. He thought of the sacrifices he had made, of the marines and sailors he had lost. He thought of the friends who had vanished into the maelstrom of war... and of the bitterness that came with every defeat. “But we need to set the example. And, if this prejudice becomes a discipline issue, we need to make an example. We cannot accept that kind of behavior... at any level, am I understood?”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded slowly, “Yes, Baron, you are.”
“Good,” Lucius said with a smile. “Now, then, I believe we have an intelligence briefing to attend?”
***
Lucius and Admiral Dreyfus stepped into the conference room and took seats. Captain Rachel Wu stood near the projectors, her normally cheerful face somewhat somber. As it should be, he supposed, seeing as she had not finished intelligence collection on the operation and had expected to have over a month of additional time to work on it.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats and we'll begin this briefing,” Captain Wu said. Her voice was pleasant, but the hard edge under her tone saw most of the officers to their seats in record time. Lucius hid a bit of a smile as he noticed even the arrogant Admiral Valens Balventia took a seat with remarkable haste.
“As most of you know, the United Colonies Fleet will depart the Faraday system in just under eighteen hours time,” Captain Wu said. “As Captain Franks has already seen to the overall operational order, I'm conducting an intelligence update on our targets.” She took a deep breath. “As you know, our initial target is the Melcer system. We've already hit the system with a raid–”
“Hell yeah we did,” an officer called from the back of the briefing room. That met with mutters and murmurs of agreement. They had, indeed, raided the system and rescued a lot of people in the process.
Captain Wu's gaze locked on the speaker and if her eyes were weapons batteries, he would have been reduced to ash on the spot. “As I was saying,” she said, her voice icy, “we have already conducted a raid at the Melcer system. In addition, we believe that the Chxor regional response force was the element that attacked here during the Third Battle of Faraday. By our estimates, that should mean that they would be unable to substantially reinforce the system in the time since. We would guess that they would have between ten and twenty dreadnoughts in position. The system has no native population or colonies and only one marginally inhabitable world. However, we expect the Chxor to attempt to hold it due to it's position and the access it provides into their recently conquered systems.”
Captain Wu looked around at the silent, expectant faces. “As for the overall status of the Chxor Empire, we have somewhat mixed reports.” She glanced over at the Chxor element, “Commander Kral has provided personnel to translate the Chxor data feeds, but we are somewhat doubtful of the veracity of the Chxor's own reports.”
“What, you think they're lying about the capture of Nova Roma?” Admiral Balventia sneered. “Or perhaps they're trying to fool us because they know we're listening to their traffic?”
“No, sir,” Captain Wu didn't rise to his sarcastic comment. “I think, and most of my analysts agree, that the Chxor bureaucracy is reward-oriented. Good news gets a Chxor officer promoted, bad news gets them demoted or even executed.” She pulled up a roster of ships and Lucius recognized the Chxor Empire's order of battle. “These are the listed ships that, between Nova Roma and Chxor sources, we've identified them as having at the start of the war.” The display held ranks of white icons for dreadnoughts and cruisers organized by fleet and task force. It was a seriously daunting display, larger, by a serious margin, than all the human nations fleets combined in numbers alone, much less in actual tonnage. They had well over five thousand dreadnoughts and almost twenty-five thousand of their light cruisers. “As far as we can estimate, these are the ships we can confirm destroyed, either from the Chxor reports or our battle reports or both.” At least a quarter of those icons went gray. It left a swath of emptiness throughout the massive fleet. Lucius felt the emotional impact himself as his chest tightened with pride of their accomplishments, both those of Nova Roma and the United Colonies.
“Then, there is their own reports and what we find missing from those,” Captain Wu said, her voice confident. “Logistical requests for resupply, munitions shipments, parts requisitions. There are also mentions of certain commanders and vessels in their data feeds during victories and conspicuously absent when they occasionally report failure.” She tapped the controls for the display, “This, is what we estimate their actual losses are, based upon those correlations.” A huge swath of additional ship icons went gray as she eliminated another quarter or more of the icons.
There were exclamations of shock from much of the audience. Captain Wu gave an icy smile. “By our best estimates, the Chxor are really in a hard way. They've lost most of their strategic reserve and are stretched extremely thin holding all their new territories as well as their original Empire... and they don't even know how screwed they are.”
“How can this be?” Emperor Romulus demanded. “How could they have lost that many ships and not even be aware?”
“The Chxor Empire relies upon their commanders to give them accurate reports and to allocate additional resources where needed,” Kral the Chxor said. The renegade Chxor had plenty of experience within the Chxor Empire, he'd risen as high as a Ship Commander, despite coming from an 'inferior' genetic line. “Chxor commanders who request additional resources are seen as inefficient or ineffectual and are replaced, so most Chxor commanders will hesitate to list their losses directly, unless they can place the blame at the feet of someone else.” His emotionless, almost robotic voice carried that much heavier an impact. This was a Chxor telling them why their enemy crippled themselves.
“So they're over-extended,” Lucius said. “That's good to hear. What else?”
“We also believe there are some Nova Roma systems still holding out,” Captain Wu said. “Though we have no confirmation and, as Emperor Romulus can attest, they have not answered his calls to rally here, as some other Nova Roma Imperial Fleet elements have.”
Lucius nodded. They'd had a few more ships trickle in ever since they'd retaken the Faraday system and the Emperor had put out a call. What Captain Wu had left unsaid and what bothered Lucius, were the rumors of Nova Roma ships going rogue and pirate. Some of those ships might have not received the call and gone mercenary, much as Lucius had originally. However, it seemed more and more likely that either some of their crews had mutinied and deserted in the face of the enemy... or that their commanders' loyalties were to themselves rather than the Nova Roma Empire.
“What evidence?” Emperor Romulus asked.
Captain Wu brought up a star map which showed the systems the Chxor had conquered. It included almost all of the Nova Roma Empire as well as sections of unclaimed and Colonial Republic space, and even the old Ghornath home system and its single colony. “The Chxor have reported the capture in their data feeds of almost every system unless they had some strategic reason to avoid it. As yet, they have not announced the capture of the Volaterra or Lavinium systems. Since Volaterra was a fleet base, I think it likely that they have managed to hold out, possibly even to support a defense in depth through Lavinium. Volaterra's military presence was, as I understand it, to dissuade the Centauri Confederation or the Colonial Republic from an assault into the southern region of the Nova Roma Empire. Volaterra had no military shipyards, but did have a sizable civilian shipyard as well as a military rated repair yard. Since both systems were several weeks away from the Nova Roma system, their military forces would not have been able to arrive there for the final battle as ordered, which suggest their commanders would have instead prepared their own defenses.” The two holdout systems flashed green, down on the lower flank of the Chxor's advance into human space.
“You are suggesting that they intentionally disregarded their orders?” Admiral Balventia demanded. “My cousin, Admiral Tiburus was in command of the Volaterra system. My father was it's Duke!”
Captain Wu raised an eyebrow, “With all due respect, sir, which would be better, that the commander disregarded his orders and held the system against the Chxor... or that it fell and its populace faces extermination?”
Admiral Balventia started to open his mouth, his face flushed, but Emperor Romulus cut him off, “What does this do to our strategic situation?”
“The implications are twofold, your highness,” Captain Wu said. “First off, the Chxor military forces will be fighting on two fronts. While the Nova Roma forces at Volaterra and Lavinium might be on the defensive now, they have no guarantee that they will not sense weakness and attack once our own offensive goes into play. They'll have to leave substantial forces to defend the systems along that front, especially, here,” she highlighted one system on the map. “The Tibur system was Nova Roma's main strong point at the start of the war, and it is a crucial supply route for the Chxor Empire. Along with Danar and Malta, it is vital to keep their forces supplied in a timely manner. They'll have to secure that system, which means that will most likely draw some of their forces away from our own targets.”
She straightened up and went to parade rest, “Pending any additional questions, that concludes the intelligence brief.” There was silence after that. It was a thoughtful silence, though. As Lucius looked around, he saw some of the anxiety had faded from the room, replaced by a bit more determination.
“That's excellent news,” Lucius said. He peered at the map for a long moment, before he stood. “Now, as you all know, we're moving on the Melcer system far ahead of our original schedule.” He could not help but notice the pleased expression on the face of the Nova Roma Emperor. Not that I blame him, Lucius thought, I would have moved ahead much earlier myself if it wasn't such a rash move. “As you saw from the recent raid, here, we have other opponents than the Chxor. While their identities remain unknown, their intent is to gut our industrial base and leave us vulnerable to a larger attack or to leave us on a defensive stance, unable to go out and achieve our own objectives.”
There were angry mutters at that. This was the force that had defeated the Chxor and the Balor in one battle. They didn't want to be made into fools by some unknown adversaries. “By moving up the launch date, we take the initiative away from them,” Lucius said. “So, as you can see, while we are not at one hundred percent effectiveness, our enemies are much worse off than we. We will strike a blow, we will carry the fight to the enemy, and we will not stand still long enough for them to attempt a return strike.” Lucius let out a tense breath. “Thank you for your time, you are dismissed.”
***
Ensign Alberto Tascon grimaced as he stepped into the bar. It was not up to his usual standards, but it was what passed for the best here on Faraday.
He sidled up to the bar and gave a smirk at the blonde seated there already. The withering look she gave him told him that either he wasn't dressed fashionably enough or she had no taste in men. Probably both, he thought, young bitch can't recognize quality breeding and I'm not going to bother to buy into Faraday's limited fashion sense.
“Vodka, Centauri, mind you, none of the local crap,” Tascon growled at the bartender. She was also female and not bad looking. But if she had to work nights at the bar, she was probably from far too low a social status for him to even pretend to care about her. If he really wanted her companionship, he'd simply buy it, just like his drinks.
“One for me as well, no ice,” A cultured voice said from behind him.
Alberto turned his head to see. After a shocked moment of realization he whirled in surprise, “My lord, that is, sir, a pleasure to meet you.”
Lord Admiral Valens Balventia gave a gracious wave, “There's no rank in the officer's mess... or whatever pathetic excuse we have here in this backwater, am I right?”
Alberto straightened, “Of course, my lord.” Whatever the other man said, there was no excuse for not using his official title. He was, after all, Duke Balventia, close relative to the Emperor and the second ranking officer after the common-born, old fool, Admiral Mund.
Admiral Balventia moved up to the bar as the bartender placed their drinks. “I've always favored the better things in life, you know? It is vital, I think, for people of our position and stature to enjoy those things, to offset the hard labor we perform in our duties, of course.”
“Of course,” Alberto said. He felt his cheeks flush as he realized that the Duke had included him in his stature and position. Alberto Tascon's father was a minor noble, barely worth the title. The rogue Admiral Mannetti held the true title, Baroness Kail, or Lady Kail as she went by. Granted, that title should have fallen to his family, but the disgrace of her treason had put that on hold. The Imperial Senate had hesitated to strip her of her title until she could be properly captured and put on trial for her crimes.
“It must be difficult for you, Alberto,” Admiral Balventia said. “Laboring under common-born officers who have been promoted above you by Baron Giovanni.” Alberto ground his jaw. Apparently, even the recently reinstated Admiral had heard of his plight. “I just today heard of your request to rejoin a proper fleet, rather than Giovanni's ragtag assemblage.” He saw the Admiral drain his drink.
“You did, my lord?” Alberto asked as he finished his own drink. He was of mixed feelings on that. On the one hand, it would be good to get out from under the United Colonies Fleet. On the other, he had the opportunity for a very lucrative business arrangement, which had already born some fruit.
“I did,” Admiral Balventia shook his head. “I'm afraid, however, that my protestations went unheard by Admiral Mund. He has little appreciation for your good breeding and capabilities.” He cocked his head and leaned in, even as he waved for another round of drinks. “However, I'm certain that if we could somehow prove your capabilities to the Emperor, he would override the old man.”
“Oh?” Alberto sat back. He felt a cool wave wash over him as he suddenly understood the Admiral's intent. He comes to me for the same reason as my new network friend, Alberto realized, he needs what only I can provide. He felt a flush creep up his cheeks as he realized the sense of power that gave him. Lord Admiral Valens Balventia needed him, Ensign Alberto Tascon.
“Well, a man in your position might come across certain messages, perhaps even messages of importance or confidentiality...” Admiral Balventia said softly. “And we both know that Lucius Giovanni is the son of a traitor and a wretched and cowardly traitor himself.” There was a note of pure, unthinking hatred in the other man's voice, Alberto noted. He hid a smile. He had thought that surely the reporters and columnists had vastly exaggerated the vitriol between the two heroic figures, yet it was apparent that, if anything, they had understated it.
Admiral Balventia wants me to spy on his rival, Alberto thought and again he felt a surge of pleasure at the sense of power that gave him. “That kind of thing could be frowned upon by my notional superiors, Admiral,” Alberto said. “And the important messages you speak of, if indeed contained treasonous information, then my efforts on your behalf could be a risk to not just my career... but perhaps my very life. While I would not hesitate to give my life for Nova Roma... it would be nice to have some appreciation for my efforts.”
The other man's eyes narrowed, “Well, I see.” He pursed his lips, “I had thought that reinstating you within the Nova Roma Imperial Fleet, perhaps with a promotion equivalent to your time in service and efforts would be appropriate.”
Alberto shrugged, “As you say. However, you cannot guarantee that the Emperor will acknowledge my efforts. For that matter, should 'Baron' Giovanni become aware of my efforts, I may be forced to flee before the Emperor could offer me sanctuary.”
Admiral Balventia picked up his vodka and sipped at it. Alberto could almost sense the other man's thoughts, the driving hate that sought any way to bring down his rival. And I hope I can give him that, Alberto thought, though I doubt the Baron has so much as a treasonous or cowardly bone in his body, that isn't to say that I can't selectively edit information I provide the Admiral. The thought of setting the Emperor against Giovanni gave him an additional rush. And who knew, perhaps, in the end, Balventia would rise to the top and reward him? Alberto toyed with the idea of sticking around, after his other transactions, just to see how it would turn out, but a luxury apartment on Tannis or Port Klast sounded far better to him.
“Very well,” Admiral Balventia said. “I have some discretionary funds that I can access. Mostly precious metals that the Emperor and some of my fellow nobles slipped out during their evacuation. Enough, I think, that I can compensate you for the risks you would take.”
Alberto knocked back the rest of his drink. “Well, then, my lord. I would be glad to provide you and the Emperor with my service.” He smiled warmly, “Perhaps we could settle the details of how I would get you the information you want?”
***
Lucius looked up at the knock on the door to his apartment. He toggled the intercom, “Yes?”
“It's Alanis,” his sister said.
Lucius got up and went to open the door, “Alanis, good to see you.” He frowned to see her looking exhausted. “Are you alright?”
She nodded and stepped past him to slump in a chair in the living room. “Rough week.” She met his eyes, “Have you had a chance to talk with Reese?”
Lucius looked away, “Alanis, I've tried. He's too damned stubborn. He's taken a leave of absence, either as some sort of protest or... well, I don't know what.” In truth, Lucius was close to signing paperwork discharging the other man from the service.
“I know,” Alanis said. Her eyes were hollow as she stared at the wall, “It's almost as if he thinks that by not being directly at risk, now, he thinks he can justify me not putting myself at risk at all.” She shook her head, “I can't even talk to him anymore. I've been spending almost all my time with Captain Doko and his simulations.”
Lucius sat down, uncomfortably. While he and Alanis were close, in many ways, there were things that they had never discussed before. The emotional aspects, particularly in regards to relationships, was something that neither of them had broached before. It tied too closely back to their past and what had happened to their parents.
“I'm doing well enough that Captain Doko finds it entertaining, at least,” Alanis said softly. She offered the change of subject as an escape, Lucius knew. Still, as uncertain as he felt about relationship advice to his sister, he took the escape.
“I'm certain he wouldn't bother if you weren't doing well,” Lucius said with a smile. Anthony Doko loved to test people against his strategy simulation collection. Lucius knew the other man had a downright devious streak when it came to simulation design, so if Alanis had managed to keep him interested, that meant she was doing well.
“Yeah, you should have seen his face after I blasted through his default scenarios,” Alanis said. Her face came to life as she spoke. “Can you believe he used the canned ones that you brought back from the Academy?” She leaned back and propped her feet up on his coffee table, “Then he tried using the Tiple Scenarios, you know, the ones you could download for free?” She threw up her hands in disgust. Lucius nodded, though he felt slightly bemused. He and Doko had considered the Tiple Scenarios good entry level training for their initial recruits. “Please! I've modded the Tiple Scenarios,” Alanis shook her head. “Then he finally cracked open his box and started tailoring scenarios. I think I gave him conniptions when I beat his version of Garvan III. But, I mean, that's juvenile stuff, I was simulating Tarvax and Rathan before you took over the War Shrike as Captain.”
Lucius shook his head, “Okay, so you're giving him a run for his money. Those simulations are just initial training, though.” He didn't want her to get overconfident before she went into the Academy. Otherwise she would be in for a rude awakening.
“Yeah,” Alanis said. “So he said. Even as he tried to run me through more complex scenarios. I know that. That's what the Academy is supposed to teach me, the human element and all that... but Lucius, I can calculate vectors, defense screen alignments, and weapons envelopes in my sleep. Over the past three weeks he's only managed to get me in a draw once and that was the Battle of Danar....”
Lucius sat back as she talked. He didn't bother to hide the smile on his face. His sister had always been something of a nerd who overcompensated for her social anxiety by being loud and brash. It was good to see that her interests would finally be applied. Yet even as she talked, Lucius's thoughts went to the issue of his brother-in-law.
He and Reese had been close friends since their first assignment together. Yet while part of Lucius had been happy when Reese and Alanis had married, part of him had always wondered if they were right for one another. He remembered how they had initially struck up a friendship, exchanging bits of code that they designed.
Lucius had wondered at his friend's intentions then. But Reese had never shown any signs of ambitions... often quite the opposite. He had pursued a career as a communications officer, despite his proven expertise in other areas. That field had slower promotions than most and his association with Lucius had further slowed his promotions, just as it had with Anthony Doko.
If anything, it seemed to Lucius that Reese had found comfort and a kindred spirit with his sister. Which made Lucius wonder if Reese had really seen his sister after all. She was brash, wild, and driven. Only their social stigma and the customs of Nova Roma had prevented her from a military or law enforcement career. Now that those barriers were gone, she was already focused on her goals... and Reese was left confused and angry.
Lucius smiled again at a joke from Alanis, even as he wondered if the reversal of their relationship was what had upset Reese more than anything.
***
Colonel William Proscia smiled as he straightened his dress uniform in his office mirror. While he appreciated the professional combat fatigues that the United Colonies used, there was just something sharp about the Marine dress uniform.
He frowned and flicked a microscopic speck of dust off his shoulder. The green and white dress uniforms didn't see much use in the current war-time conditions. However, he had made a point of insisting that all Academy personnel would conduct daily duties in their dress uniform. That encouraged attention to detail, both on the parts of his training cadre and staff as well as his cadets while here at the school. Not that he discouraged field time. Far from it. Their first rotations of cadets had spent almost six months in the field, thus far, accompanied by their training cadre. William Proscia had accompanied them for much of it.
That kind of training bred confidence and assurance, he knew, but also gave the cadre the opportunities to instill proper modicums of respect for the unknown. Some officer training programs produced officers who were certain of their own abilities to a fault: men and women who assumed they had all the answers. In his mind, the Nova Roma Military had gone that route, to the point that their cadets and graduates had a stigma of arrogance and entitlement. Colonel Proscia wasn't about to allow that pernicious root to take hold at his school, not while he was the commandant. Especially not while he was in the service of Baron Lucius Giovanni. A damned fine officer, William thought fondly, better, even than his father was. Granted, William's time under Admiral Marius Giovanni had been limited, he'd been only a lowly sergeant at the time.
“Send them in,” William said, after one final glance at his green and white uniform for any sign of imperfections. He turned and moved to stand behind his desk where he faced the room and it's other occupant.
Chief Winslow, who stood near the door gave him a single raised eyebrow, “You sure about this, sir?”
“Yes,” William said. “Trust me.”
The Senior Chief gave an exaggerated sigh, but he nodded and pulled open the door. “Sergeant Timorsky, Lance Corporal Namori, report!”
The two junior non-commissioned officers trotted in, their own dress uniforms impeccable and their bearing absolutely serious. Lance Corporal Namori's back was braced tight, almost as if he expected blows. Then again, William thought, they came from the Centauri Confederation, corporal punishment is not only regular, it is practically the standard, there.
Both men came to a stop and saluted, sharply, “Sergeant Timorsky and Lance Corporal Namori, reporting as ordered, sir!” There was no note of irony or sullenness to either of them, William saw, which was good. He had hand selected all of the cadre and staff, men and women whose service he trusted implicitly, both for their dedication to defending humanity and for their loyalty to Baron Lucius Giovanni. Of course, he thought, some of them are a bit more... colorful in the ways they serve than others.
“Sergeant Timorsky, I understand that you and Lance Namori have asked for administrative punishment rather than a full court martial for the events that occurred on the twenty second of August. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Timorsky said.
“Yes, sir,” Lance Corporal Namori said.
“Very well. According to the Michaelston police, you two became involved in an altercation with a civilian at a bar. During this altercation, Lance Corporal Namori reportedly struck the civilian without provocation while Sergeant Timorsky held him for said strike. The civilian is reportedly in the hospital with a broken jaw.” He saw them both shift, slightly at that. They didn't plan to put him in the hospital, then, he thought, that's something at least. He waited a long moment, “Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”
“Sir,” Sergeant Timorsky said, “There is no excuse for what we did. However...” he straightened a bit, “The bast– that is, the civilian had just made disparaging comments about the Baron and the United Colonies, sir.”
William had to hide a slight smile of pleasure at that. From the police report, the man had done considerably more than make a 'disparaging statement.' He'd outright called the Baron a traitor and called the United Colonies an upstart group of savages who had stolen the rightful dues of their betters. There was a quite interesting video of the man's rant, accompanied by evidence that he'd been hired by the Centauri Confederation Envoy to say all that an more.
The problem was, he was a Centauri citizen,and Alicia Nix, head of the Federal Investigation Bureau, had already passed along a copy of the official complaint of 'assault' and 'intent to murder' from the Centauri Envoy. For that matter, the local police had a few complaints of their own, in particular how three of their officers were sporting a number of contusions from attempting to restrain the two Marines. He had to do something to salve both parties. William let both Marines stew in silence for a moment longer, before he spoke. “Very well, I'll make note of that. Step outside and send in your platoon sergeant.”
A moment later, Staff Sergeant Oson stepped in. “Sir.” Like his two NCO's, Oson was from the Centauri Confederation Fleet Infantry, originally. He had led their platoon since they refused orders to massacre a civilian convoy. He and his platoon had faced charges of desertion and mutiny as a result, which had led them to Faraday as little more than refugees. That was where Lucius Giovanni had recruited them. Since then, they had been split up over the new United Colonies Fleet, but William Proscia had gathered most of them back together to serve in his training cadre for the Academy. Until now, they had performed flawlessly.
“We have two problems, right now,” William Proscia said softly, “And I think we can solve one with the other. I want your opinion on the mission I forwarded you.”
“Concerning the Baron's security, sir?” Staff Sergeant Oson asked. At Colonel Proscia's nod, he frowned in thought, “Sir, I don't think you'll find two men more loyal. I kept the men fed and alive, but he gave them a reason to live again.”
“Good,” William said. “Senior Chief Winslow, call them back in.”
Colonel William Proscia waited as the two Marines came back. Despite their military bearing, there was no hiding the tension in their faces. Still, that impressed William even more. They hadn't clammed up, they hadn't gone for lawyers or trial. They certainly had owned up to their actions... which were brought on by loyalty and high emotions, to be certain. Faced with punishment, they were worried, not because of what they might receive, he understood, but because they might lose the chance to follow their calling.
“Sergeant Timorsky, Lance Corporal Namori,” William said, his voice taking on an official lilt. “After due investigation, I find your actions out of accordance with the standards we impart upon our Marines. As a result, I'm putting both of you on administrative leave pending a review.” He saw both of them blanch at that. “However, given the mitigating circumstances, I'm retaining you both at your current rank and not taking pay.” He saw their eyes widen a bit at that, they both had expected to be broken down to privates, he knew. “You are, however, restricted to your quarters pending the final results of the review, save for any duties which require other actions.” They restrained their groans at that, but William still heard them. Restriction to barracks was almost a prison sentence, particularly since both of them had girlfriends in Michaelston.
“Normally your duties would coincide with barracks maintenance, however, I have a special mission for you both,” Colonel William Proscia saw both of them wince at that. So called 'special missions' often were seen as worse punishments than cleaning or maintenance details... for good reason. They were often the brainchilds of bored officers with too much time to set and think. This one, however, was a little different.
“Baron Giovanni has limited personal security at the moment,” Colonel Proscia said. “While aboard ship he is protected by Marines. This is acceptable, though not optimal. While here on Faraday, he has no personal escort and no private security, other than when he is in his apartment building or one of the government buildings... whose security is oriented on the building, rather than the person.”
Neither of the two men spoke. Still, William saw their eyes light up as they realized where this was going. In many ways, this wasn't a punishment... it was a reward.
“Your mission is to provide security oversight. After a discussion with senior Federal Investigation Bureau personnel, we have some funding available between us and them to provide some equipment and currency for you two to undertake the mission... until this general oversight is fixed, whereupon, I'm sure, you will return to your duties here.” Colonel Proscia had to hide a smile at the looks of excitement on both men's faces. They were getting the chance to guard their hero... which was exactly the mindset that he wanted them to have. A two man detail was painfully inadequate for the job... but it was all that William felt he could put on it without drawing too much attention.
Admiral Dreyfus may think he and his people are the best and brightest... and that may be true, William thought, but that doesn't mean that someone won't take a shot at the Baron. Ideally the Baron would have a team of five at any given time, along with backup teams in position to provide support and overwatch. William and Alicia Nix had discussed more, but she wasn't in a position where she could put people on him without parliamentary approval. With how confused the Parliament sessions continued to be, it seemed unlikely that they would receive that any time soon... and neither Alicia Nix nor Colonel William Proscia wanted to have to live with themselves if something happened to the Baron that they could have prevented.
“The FIB will provide communications equipment, vehicles, and technical support as requested,” Colonel Proscia said. “But they cannot provide immediate support without signs of criminal activity.” He waited while the realization that they, and they alone, would be responsible for securing their head of state... and the champion of Humanity. He saw the excitement on their faces turn to dread at the weight of responsibility. “I understand that he has also brought on-board a psychic, Reginald, who it would behoove you to work with.” William had heard that from Alicia, though he wasn't sure how much he trusted the psychic. He certainly didn't like the idea of a telepath in close proximity to the Baron. Still, Alicia said the man had passed all of her background checks and he provided some additional layer of security. “If, at any time, you feel that the Baron is in an immanent threat, you will report directly to me and I will take any and all actions necessary to support you... to include mobilizing our cadre, am I understood?”
Both NCO's spoke as one, “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent,” William said sternly. “Now, Staff Sergeant Oson has further details for you. Of particular note, however, is that the Baron just departed for a very rough part of town to find Captain Reese Leone-Giovanni. You two fine gentlemen should probably get down there and make certain that a random mugger doesn't murder our head of state.”
Colonel William Proscia treasured the looks of shock, horror, and even a little panic on the faces of the two Marines. He gave them an icy smile, “You are dismissed.”
***
Port Klast System
Port Klast
August 26, 2403
Lauren swore as she tripped, again, in the low heel dress shoes. In the slinky red dress, she wasn't able to move like she should, so she wobbled and started to fall. A strong hand caught her by the shoulder and righted her. “Careful.”
She turned her head and glared at Mason, “I hate this thing!”
He released her shoulder and Lauren tried to ignore how warm his touch had felt. “Well, we're here,” he gestured at the shuttle. They had come back here, rather than staying at the hotel, which Lauren had insisted on. She hadn't liked the security situation at the hotel, especially with Mason having indulged.
“Thankfully, yes,” Lauren said. She stalked up the shuttle ramp and swiped her hand over the biometrics to open the hatch. She bit back a curse as it gave her an error. “Why doesn't anything work right tonight?”
Mason leaned over her shoulder and toggled it. For a moment, she could feel his presence, feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. She shivered. Must be this damned dress, she thought, I'll be lucky if I don't catch a cold.
Lauren stalked through the hatch and tripped again. This time, she did fall. She let out a rather embarrassing shriek as she toppled.
Again, Mason was there and he caught her just before she would have hit the cold metal deck. He pulled her upright, for a moment, they were face to face. Lauren could feel the warmth of his chest through the thin material of her dress.
She started to say something, what exactly, she wasn't sure, but he leaned forward and kissed her. It was her first real kiss and for a moment she wasn't sure whether or not she liked the experience as a dozen sensations washed over her. She broke away, confused and overwhelmed.
A dozen emotions flashed over Mason's face, before he straightened. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that,” he said. His voice was stiff, angry. Lauren wasn't sure if he was angry at her or himself. At the moment, she couldn't say what she felt herself. “You look good in that dress,” he said, his voice at once sincere and yet with something rather like anguish.
Before she could come up with a response, he turned and stepped into the shuttle's cockpit and closed the hatch behind him.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
August 26, 2403
The bar had, Lucius was told, once been a school. However, sometime during the Chxor occupation, it had received enough damage that parts of it were uninhabitable. The neighborhood was mostly empty now, anyway, so there wasn't a need for the large building.
It had since become something of a club and the rowdy, abrasive atmosphere had gone a further step in making the neighborhood empty out. Lucius had discovered that his brother-in-law favored the establishment after asking Alicia Nix. While it might, technically, be illegal to use her in that role, Lucius didn't really care much at the moment.
Of course, Alicia Nix had then told Colonel Proscia of Lucius's intention to find Reese there. So a couple of Marines in civilian attire had appeared to 'escort' him. Neither of them were on duty, which they told him very politely when he told them to go find something else to do. Both of them merely said they happened to be going to the bar anyway.
Lucius did his best to ignore them as he walked up to the entrance. The four, big men and two tall women who stood outside managed the line of would-be entrants. Lucius ignored them as he walked forward. One attempted to step in his way, but there was a grunt followed by a murmured, “Sorry, excuse us,” from one of the two Marines as the bouncer toppled to the ground.
The others went tense and Lucius saw hands go towards concealed weapons. He bit his lip, he really didn't want to be involved in a firefight or brawl. For one thing, his skills in that area were basically nonexistent. For another, he hoped to keep his appearance here relatively off the radar. The news media of Faraday had a long way to go to recover from Chxor occupation, but that didn't mean someone wouldn't recognize him if there was a big enough scene.
“Look, fellas,” the second Marine said. “We just want to cut the queue, I'm sure you got a VIP special, right?”
One of the women nodded, slowly, “Policy is, though, you hit a bouncer, you're out.” Her voice was abnormally deep for a woman.
“Well,” the Marine said. “My friend here made a mistake... he'll stay out here. We go inside, deal?”
The woman nodded slowly, “You got to buy VIP tickets, you got the squeeze?”
Lucius sighed. He started to reach for his wallet, but the Marine tossed a roll of bills to the bouncer, without counting. “That should cover it.”
The woman caught it and tucked it into a pocket without counting it either, “Of course. Sir, have a nice night.” She swept open the door.
“Doubtful,” Lucius muttered, as the roar of offbeat music and the crowd assaulted his ears. She didn't appear to have heard him, though. Lucius led the way towards the bar the remaining Marine followed close. Lucius paused, as he worked along the edge of the dance floor, his eyes searched for Reese. “What's your name, Marine?” Lucius asked.
“Sergeant Timorsky,” he answered. “Sorry about Lance Namori, he's a little protective. Don't worry about the cash, Colonel Proscia gave us some for the mission,” The Marine didn't look down at Lucius, his eyes roved the crowd for threats.
“You've done protective detail before?” Lucius asked. The calm manner in which the Marine NCO went about his business and the professional way he'd handled the bouncers suggested he was comfortable with the unofficial assignment.
“Yes, sir, both of us,” Sergeant Timorsky said. “We were with the Centauri Confederation Fleet Infantry.” Some things clicked together suddenly for Lucius. The Fleet Infantry was the Centauri Military's equivalent of Marines. Sergeant Timorsky was the squad leader for the group of them that had signed on when the War Shrike recruited from the refugees of Faraday upon Lucius's first arrival.
The Centauri Confederation Fleet Infantry were rather elitist, an all volunteer organization within the Centauri Confederation's conscript-heavy military. They also tended to be heavily recruited for the Centauri Commandos, an elite paramilitary force that conducted all manner of operations for their government.
“Right,” Lucius said. “I need to talk to a man here at the bar. Just keep an eye out and if anything goes wrong, go ahead and take charge, I'm not going to be any good in a bar brawl.”
“That was the plan, sir,” the Sergeant said with a slight smile.
“Right,” Lucius said. He spotted a familiar shock of blonde hair. “Let's do this.” He wanted to get this over with. Part of him knew that he should be occupied with the preparations for the attack on Melcer. They were scheduled to depart in mere hours. Yet, he had to at least try, if not for Reese's sake, then for his sister's.
He edged around the crowd and then moved up to Reese's elbow. “Reese.”
“Lucius,” Reese said. Lucius could barely hear him over the roar of the crowd and the blaring music. “What brings you to this fine establishment?”
“Alanis is worried about you,” Lucius shouted, “So am I.”
“Well, that's nice,” Reese snarled. He turned and leaned in close to shout in Lucius's face and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. “Took you long enough to think of me. Alanis is hellbent on getting herself killed in typical Giovanni fashion. How long until you send her off to die gloriously? I bet you can't wait, probably makes you look ever the heroic figure, sacrificing your only kin to show your dedication to the cause.” Spittle spattered Lucius and the hot breath in his face made him recoil almost as much as the venom in Reese's voice.
Lucius bit back a scathing reply. “I need you, Reese. I need you as a friend and I need your service. We still have the Chxor to defeat.” He could see Reese's face turn a darker shade of red. Lucius took a deep breath, “Dammit, your wife needs you, Reese. You're so worried about losing her to combat, but you've almost lost her from how you're behaving. Are you trying to drive her away?”
“I've already lost her!” Reese shouted, loud enough that those nearby withdrew. He swung his arm in a sharp arc, “I've lost her to your damned bullshit idealism and the stupid, stubborn Giovanni desire to find the biggest windmill to take a tilt at!” He leaned over Lucius and grabbed him by the collar, “And I wish–”
Sergeant Timorsky stepped forward and put his hand on Reese's wrist, “Sir, you should probably take a step back.”
“Now you're having your goons tell me what to do?” Reese snarled at Lucius, even has he released his collar. He took a couple steps back. “To hell with you, Lucius. And to hell with Alanis. Tell her that I hope she finds what she's looking for in dying gloriously for the cause, because she's thrown away our marriage to do it.” Reese staggered backwards a bit and swayed. He wiped at his red eyes, “To hell with all of you.”
Lucius wavered, half of him wanted to grab Reese and shake some sense into him, the other half just wanted to be away from this place. He knew that he couldn't stop the other man from destroying his own life, yet he thought that if he just could say the right thing that he might get through to him.
The moment passed and Reese shoved his way through the crowd.
“Should I have Lance Namori try to retrieve him?” Sergeant Timorsky asked, his voice barely audible over the noise of the bar.
“No,” Lucius shouted. “Let him go.” Hopefully Reese would sober up and come to his senses. Yet, Lucius wondered if he could forgive the man his words. The angry, caustic tone and the hatred he saw in the blue eyes of his former friend hurt, hurt more than it should. Had Reese ever truly been his friend... or had he fooled Lucius all along?
***
Port Klast System
Port Klast
August 26, 2403
Mason sat back, feet up on the pilot's console for the shuttle. It had been a busy night and with how the alcohol had hit him, the series of shocks from Thomas Kaid, and general exhaustion, he didn't feel safe to fly back to the ship just yet.
Lauren hadn't said much when she went to the back of the shuttle and laid down. He wasn't certain if she were angry at him over his continued act, irritated that she'd had to be dressed up, or embarrassed at being caught with a weapon. Knowing her, probably a mix of all three, Mason thought.
Tomorrow he would have to go out and recruit crew. He dreaded that, though. He had to strike a balance between cheap and trustworthy, which basically meant he'd be taking untrained kids and down-on-their luck merchantmen into combat. Neither appealed to him, especially since this little excursion was bound to get at least a few of them killed.
Mason felt the temptation, yet again, to dial into some of his old contacts. Yet he doubted he could trust all of them and it would only take one to out him. For that matter, some of them were dead, others had gone legitimate or retired, and the handful that left were some of the last people he wanted to associate with. They were the ones who knew how to bring out the worst in him.
Mason took another sip of water from the pitcher by his seat and closed those thoughts carefully away. There was a part of him that longed for the life he was about to return to, even in disguise. To do as he wished, to take what he wanted, and to savagely destroy anyone who opposed him. The lure of that life and the rage that had guided him for so long had taken years to bury... yet he could feel how easily and naturally they came back to the surface of his thoughts.
“I shouldn't drink,” Mason muttered to himself, “Always makes me morose.”
“Seems to make you talk to yourself too,” a woman's voice said from behind him.
Mason started and almost levitated out of his seat. He spun and his hands dropped to his holstered pistols, “What the hell?!” He froze though, when he saw the tall and lean blonde woman who leaned against the hatch frame. Like usual, she wore rugged prospector's clothing, a loose bush jacket and baggy cargo pants, and her blonde hair was drawn back in a ponytail.
Mason shook his head, “Kandergain.” He took a deep breath and tried to calm his heart rate and to assure his adrenal gland that the fight or flight reflex really wasn't necessary. “Why are you here?”
Kandergain gave Mason an insouciant grin, “I hear you need a navigator, 'Stavros'.” She straightened up from her lean and offered her hand, “I have great credentials.”
“Yeah,” Mason grunted, “I'll bet you do.”
“When I heard that Captain Stavros Heraklion was here...” She looked Mason up and down, “with his appalling personal taste in clothing, I just had to come and see for myself.”
“Greek,” Mason muttered, even as he flushed. It was one thing to have Thomas Kaid, close-mouthed as he was, to know it was him in this get-up. It was another thing entirely for it to be a psychic who already had far too much dirt on him and a grudge to boot.
“I know, famously ostentatious,” Kandergain waved a hand. “Still, I must say I'm impressed. So, how about we continue this discussion on your ship, eh, Stavros?”
“I'm not flying like this,” Mason grunted. “And I'm not hiring crew yet.”
“Trust me, you'll want to hear my interview,” she replied, “And I'm flying. You're a little rusty at fine maneuvers for my taste, I'd rather not be blasted by the defenses because someone mistook your drunken weaving for an attack run.”
He didn't respond, but he did move to the side as she hopped into the pilot seat. She pushed the water pitcher to him with one foot as she went through the preflight checks. “Nice shuttle.” As they lifted off, she looked up, “We're clear of any bugs, for now, by the way. I zapped the couple aboard the shuttle.”
He sighed, then. “I take it, by the fact that you're here, that there's more going on than I really care to dive into?”
“Actually, I just happened to be in the system,” Kandergain said. “Some unpleasant business with Shadow Lord Imperious that Kaid asked for help with. More of a distraction than a real threat, I think, but it still needed to be dealt with.” She cocked her head, “How, exactly, did you get roped into this and what are you doing here?”
“Admiral Collae went looking for Tommy King and found me instead,” Mason said. “He gave me some vague warnings about Lucretta Mannetti and then tried to sick me on her while claiming she was a threat to us all.” Mason shrugged, “I told him to get lost, then I collected my effects and came here as Stavros.”
“To infiltrate her organization?” Kandergain asked. She shook her head, “Dangerous. I assume you knew that they are working together?” At Mason's nod, she pursed her lips. “Those two are dangerously competent, I would caution you that they might have planned for this.”
“Or Admiral Collae could be getting another pawn in play to use against her when the time comes,” Mason said. “The nice thing about ambitious and deceitful people is how rarely they truly work together in peace and harmony.”
Kandergain snorted at that. “You should know.”
Mason bit his tongue at that. He'd never been deceitful. Ambition, he'd had, to an extent, but not towards power for power's sake. He was conniving and clever, but he'd treated most of his foes with respect... even if he did gun them down in the street. Okay, Mason thought, maybe I'm a little defensive over some of what I did.
“Right,” Kandergain said. “I'd like to know what you know about the two of them and their organization. Mannetti always seems to know a little too much for a rogue military commander turned pirate and Collae is just too competent to ignore anymore.”
“I thought you just dealt with the Shadow Lords? That's your little private war, right?” Mason asked. It seemed to him that if it was one against five, that maybe she shouldn't take her eyes off the table to deal with this. For that matter, it insulted his sense of self-worth that she didn't seem to think he could manage on his own.
“Imperious and Invictus have both backed a play that I can't fight, at the moment,” Kandergain said. “Not without pulling the other three into it.” From her tone, she was more worried than she let on. “Lachesis is laying low, probably licking her wounds from something some of my people did to her down at Tannis.” She had a vicious smile about whatever had happened, but Mason didn't ask. He didn't like to be involved in her war in the shadows. “Sanctus and Gargant are both consolidating their forces.” She shrugged, “In reality, there are dozens of actions going on by all of them across human space and even beyond... but I can only be in so many places at once. I've people I work with to take care of the minor things, I'm the heavy hitter.”
“Right,” Mason grunted. He would grant her that she was, by far, the most dangerous person he had ever encountered. That included three hundred kilogram Ghornath mercenaries, tweaked out cybernetic bounty hunters, Wrethe pirates, and even a face-swapping assassin. Although, Crowe was dangerous because of how devious he was, Mason thought, rather than physical or psychic abilities.
“Unless one of them starts something that I can directly oppose, I've got the time to look into this,” Kandergain said. “So, tell me everything... and please, don't leave out the part where you thought donning those pants was a good idea.”
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
August 30, 2403
Alanis was surprised as she opened the door to her apartment to find the lights on. She was even more surprised when she heard the soft sound of music and smelled food. She walked forward, almost afraid it was some kind of dream or delusion, until she stepped into the dining room.
Like Lucius, she and Reese had chosen an apartment in the building which had come to cater to military officers and families. It was small, cozy even, but she and Reese hadn't needed much space. Just them and the handful of items she'd managed to take during her flight from Nova Roma.
A pair of candles gave dim light to the dining room. Reese stood near the table, a bottle of wine in one hand. “Alanis, I want to apologize,” his voice was rough and his eyes were bloodshot, yet she heard sincerity in his voice.
Lucius had told her that he hadn't shown up for their departure to Melcer. She had assumed that meant that he had decided to cut his ties to Lucius... and to her. To see him, now, like this, was at once a shock and a relief. She couldn't speak, her throat too tight with emotion.
Reese took a step forward. “Alanis... I was wrong to argue with you about this. I should have known that once you'd made up your mind, there was nothing I could say to try to talk you out of it...” he looked down. “I was afraid, though. I still am. You know that I lost my younger brother. I just can't stand the thought of losing you too.”
“Reese,” Alanis sighed, “You haven't made things easy.” Part of her wanted to step forward and embrace him, now that he was finally talking calmly and not raving or drunk or angry.
“I know,” Reese said. He set the bottle of wine down on the table, unopened. He stared at the floor, his voice distant. “I should have been here for you. I should have been there with you on Nova Roma, I see that now. I look back and I see missed opportunities. I could have done so much more for you, been so much more for you.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers and his blue eyes held sincerity, “I will be here for you now. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe and make you happy.”
“Even allowing me to apply to the Academy and take their commission when they offer it?” Alanis said. It was a feat of will that she kept her voice level.
He nodded, yet there was something unspoken in his eyes, almost as if he were still in denial. She wondered, then, if he hoped his apology would sway her from her course. Best to make it clear that my mind is made up, she thought. “I've already turned in my initial application. I've got my physical scheduled in two weeks. I'm going to do this... and I'd like to have you at my side when I do.” Alanis blurted the last bit out in a rush.
Reese nodded and gave her a calm smile. “Of course. I'm just glad I'm not too late,” he said. He gestured at the table, “Now, let me make my apologies to you.” He flipped up the lids off the dishes with a flair.
She eyed the dinners with a moderate amount of suspicion. Her brother was a skilled cook, even a connoisseur of food and fine drink. She'd become accustomed to eating well as a result. She had no illusions about Reese's cooking skills. His last attempt to cook steaks had ruined the pans.
He must have caught some of her suspicion, “I ordered it from the restaurant that opened up down the way. When I explained the reason, they were very understanding.”
She noticed his datapad on the end of the table and she reached for it, “Ordering out, I'm not sure if that's cheating or just good planning...” He reached out and snatched the datapad before she could touch it. Something like panic went across his face.
Alanis snorted, “Don't worry, Reese. I already know you can't cook. I'm just surprised at your taste and from the smell, this couldn't have been cheap.”
His panic eased, though something flashed behind his blue eyes, “It wasn't.” He took a seat, “But if it makes up at all for how I've made you feel... it is well worth it.” He poured the wine into two glasses and offered her one.
Alanis took a seat of her own. She still felt off balance. The sudden change of heart was a bit too much. Yet, she knew well Reese's impulsive nature. He'd proposed in a similar fashion, though he had at least had the good grace this time to make some preparations, it seemed. She took some of the proffered wine and cocked her head, “What's the encore to this little dinner?”
He gave her a smirk she knew all too well. “Let's see how this goes, shall we?”
***
Chapter VI
Melcer System
Contested
September 7, 2403
Baron Lucius Giovanni stepped onto the flag bridge and gave Admiral Dreyfus a nod. “Any changes?” he asked.
Admiral Dreyfus shrugged, “Nothing. The scout reports remain the same. Analysts best estimates are that the Chxor are focused on their recovery and thus the limited activity elsewhere in the system.”
Lucius nodded, “That makes as much sense as anything.” In truth, the Chxor activity at Melcer surprised him. While normally methodical and occasionally cautious, the Chxor at Melcer seemed almost timid. His scout forces had spent the past week scanning the system. The Chxor had cargo ships and salvage vessels in place near the work station that he had attacked in the raid. The United Colonies forces had destroyed the station after stripping it of anything useful, but the wreckage as well as the extant debris field both remained valuable sources of raw materials and even some salvage.
The salvage expedition's escort he expected to remain close. The four dreadnoughts and sixteen cruisers held position over the debris field, where they could guard the approach to their charges.
What Lucius had not expected was the small occupation force which held outer positions flanking the wreckage of the station. The Chxor's typical response to any attack was to beef up the garrison force. Yet they had sent only eight of their dreadnoughts and not even a full complement of their escort cruisers. The oddly positioned force looked more like a skirmish line than any coherent wall of battle. As yet there was no sign of reconstruction, which also surprised Lucius. Even with Danar a relatively short distance in shadow, the Chxor needed this outpost to make this flank sustainable in the long term.
The small force they had in position might work against another raid, but it wouldn't last long against the full might of the United Colonies Fleet. “I wish we'd been a bit more aggressive with our arrival,” Lucius said softly. “If we'd known they had such a small force, we could have dropped in on top of them.”
“We couldn't know, we didn't have time to launch the scouts far enough out to plan for it...” Admiral Dreyfus said. He quirked an eyebrow, “Besides, if anything changed from our departure to arrival, we would have no choice but to face it head on. For all we know, their next assault fleet will arrive in mere hours.”
Lucius grimaced, but he nodded. The problem with shadow space was that once launched, they were committed to their course. Ships could, and sometimes did, drop out of shadow prematurely. It wasn't a good thing, though, and most gave it similar or even worse odds than a blind jump. If they plotted coordinates to jump in on top of a force and then departed, they would be locked into that course. It was a massive gamble and one that had paid off in some minor battles and gone horribly wrong in far too many occasions to merit the risk, normally.
Yet, with the Dreyfus Fleet, there was a feeling of invincible power, Lucius realized. To take a gamble like that, knowing full well that even without things going entirely right, they should still succeed was a dangerous presumption. “You're right. It's just frustrating to see them arrayed that way and yet know that we're jumping in far enough out to give them time to reposition.”
***
Melcer System
Contested
September 7, 2403
Squadron Commander Thxan settled into his command chair as the alarm klaxons signaled an enemy force had arrived in the system. Tall for a Chxor, he showed no emotional responses such as panic or shock when the first alert had reached him and instead had taken the time to don his brown Chxor ship suit and to verify his suit seals and systems before heading to the bridge. He calmly took the time to fully inspect the initial sensor reports and then opened a channel to Convoy Commander Hrul. “Commander, begin immediate retrieval and evacuation operations.”
“Of course, Squadron Commander,” Commander Hrul responded. “I assume the enemy strength is sufficient that we cannot hold the system?”
“Yes, Commander Hrul,” Thxan said. “As estimated, the enemy has returned to the system in force. We will follow High Commander Chxarals' orders. For the glory of the Chxor.”
“For the glory of the Chxor,” Hrul answered and Thxan cut the channel. He looked over at Communications Officer Rhxul. “Have you sent orders to the squadron as instructed?”
Rhxul was of the Ruhl caste, one known well for being very rote-driven. He would follow orders, Thxan knew, to the letter, but not one lerg past. “Yes, Squadron Commander.”
“And their response?” Thxan asked. If he were subject to emotions, he would have felt something like impatience, he knew. Then again, if he were subject to emotions, he probably would have been executed. Fortunate, he thought, that I am above such things.
“All vessels acknowledge your orders, Dreadnought 510737 reports that the issue with their starboard drive pod is not yet fixed, but that they will make the best speed that they can.”
Thxan nodded. Captain Zhxur had informed him earlier of the drive malfunction and Thxan had positioned the ship near the center of their screen line to allow the Captain more time to maneuver as they began their withdrawal.
While a part of him thought it was unfortunate that they must cede the system to the enemy, Thxan did not question his orders. He had spoken to High Commander Chxarals directly and the officer's logic had convinced him of the necessity for tactical and strategic flexibility, particularly in the face of this unknown threat. They would give the enemy the system... for now.
***
Lucius eyed the screen with suspicion as the enemy forces moved through a complex maneuver. Essentially, the enemy screening force collapsed inwards even as the transports and salvage ships moved out of the debris field and into a formation of their own. “They're going to run for it,” Lucius said with pursed lips.
“Not if we can help it,” Admiral Dreyfus snarled. “Prepare to launch missiles.”
Lucius shook his head, “No, we don't have drones in place. Firing at this range and with their formation intact will empty our tubes before we break their formation.” The Chxor screening cruisers would be in a perfect position to intercept their fire and to block their visibility to the enemy dreadnoughts. The evaluation of just how much each of those missiles would cost to replace in time was a weight on Lucius. The antimatter in each was a trade-off between fueling one of the ships. Any waste now might mean fewer vessels capable of fighting until their solar array was fully operational.
In theory, they could send their faster vessels to overtake the enemy formation, but the lighter ships wouldn't fare well against that formation. The heaviest of their high acceleration vessels were the Nagyr-class battlecruisers. Those ships would be massively outgunned by the enemy dreadnoughts and they lacked the armor to take more than a few hits. Just one of the Crusader-class vessels could have ripped the enemy force apart... yet the ponderous ships didn't have time to close with the withdrawing force before they plotted a course through shadow space. We've so much damned power in these ships, Lucius thought, yet if we can't force them to battle, then what good are they?
He glanced over at Admiral Dreyfus. Lucius saw a mirror of his own frustration on the other man's face. “We can't stop them,” Lucius said. “But that's not the objective. We'll take the system. They've been forced to withdraw and that's going to cause issues for them.”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded. “I hate not being able to even get in a shot, though.”
Lucius nodded, “Me too. But focus on the positive, for now.” If it were possible to win every battle in such a bloodless fashion, Lucius would take it. Unfortunately, the clean and methodical withdrawal suggested that the Chxor commander was one of their better ones. That in turn suggested that his commander was competent enough to give him orders to withdraw. Someone smart enough to preserve his forces for a decisive battle was someone who might find ways to effectively combat them. Lucius liked to know as much about his opponents as possible, it was time to see what he could find out about these Chxor. “Monitor their withdrawal, make sure they don't leave any nasty surprises for us,” Lucius said. He turned to the communications officer, “Get me Captain Kral.”
***
Kral the Chxor had come a long way since being recruited by Baron Lucius Giovanni. He would admit to being a competent or at least thoughtful, officer in his time as a Ship Commander in the Chxor Empire. Since his capture and especially in the time since Baron Giovanni had offered him a place within his forces, Kral believed he had improved himself, which was a good thing.
He had come to agree with the Baron that Chxor did feel emotions and that to suppress them was both an unhealthy form of denial and also pointless. Many Chxor, particularly some of the elite, in Kral's opinion, acted on their emotions and biases and only then justified it through logic. It meant that the Chxor Empire, built upon logic and utilitarianism, was at it's heart a flawed creation, for it was built upon a lie.
Kral thought that under the Baron's tutelage he had improved both his technical and ethical skills as an officer. Leadership of the volatile humans still seemed out of his grasp, but amongst the other Chxor he had recruited, he had found a most pleasing well of loyalty. They owed the Baron their freedom, the ability to procreate, and even their lives. They owed Kral something more: he had showed them what it meant to be free.
It was not a process without issues. Several Chxor who had initially seemed to handle the transition had gone mad some time later, overwhelmed by the rush of emotion, the variety of life amongst the humans, or even just by the option to make their own decisions. Still, Kral could say, with some confidence, that it was better for his people, this gift of emotional and intellectual freedom. Thus, he had one thing which he did not find pleasure in... and one agenda which he wanted addressed.
He was glad, then, to receive a summons from the Baron. He'd asked for an assignment to the tactical department of the Patriot, a position that his United Colonies rank of Captain was too senior for... but which he had explained as a desire to learn more about the integrated tactics that the humans used. This was true, but it also gave him an opportunity to observe more of how the humans interacted with one another. It was somewhat frustrating, for as basically similar as humans were to Chxor, in many ways they were utterly opposite.
As he walked the corridors, he hid a bit of his own repulsion for their ugly, lean faces and scrawny bodies. Some of them, those who spent hours working out, might approach a Chxor physique. Yet, even then, their faces were sharply defined and their heads too rounded. Most of them had pale, pasty skins... the ones who weren't odd, sickly shades such as light brown or yellowish.
Their motions were jerky, too, rather than the methodical, calm movements of his people. Their expressive faces were so eager to show their emotions, with leering smiles, ugly grimaces, and a variety of expressions which Kral had yet to identify. In all, he found them repugnant in appearance... yet he did respect their resourcefulness and tenacity. None more so, he acknowledged, than their leader, Baron Lucius Giovanni. Kral stepped into the Barons office and snapped to attention, “Sir.”
“Thank you for coming so quickly, Kral,” the Baron said. This was, Kral knew, some of the human style pleasantries. The Baron well knew that he held the authority and Kral's respect, thus Kral would come at his command.
Of course, sir,” Kral said. “What can I do for you?” Pleasantries and courtesy conversations Kral could handle. Some of the bizarre human 'humor' still bewildered him.
Thankfully, the Baron got right to the point. “You are the senior Chxor officer, to date, that we've turned, so you would have the best knowledge of enemy leaders and commanders. What do you think about this latest engagement?”
It was exactly the topic that Kral had expected. He had watched the orderly withdrawal from the system and the tight formation that the Chxor had adopted to prevent an effective engagement. Kral knew that, to many outsiders, the Chxor Empire was monolithic, their actions, doctrine, and approaches identical from one Chxor officer or commander to another. Few of the humans, fewer still of their military forces, had done any serious study of them, or at least that was what Kral had observed to date. The Baron seemed to be something of an exception, but even then, most of his knowledge was based off of previous experiences and battles rather than a formalized approach. He had known well the personality and attitude of Squadron Commander Kleigh, but his experience with other Chxor commanders was more limited. Not that Kleigh wasn't a typical Chxor commander, Kral acknowledged. “I think, Baron, that we are seeing the effects of your victories against the Chxor in this sector,” Kral said. “I can prepare a formal report for your intelligence section, if you'd like, but I am prepared to give preliminary estimates at this time.”
The Baron gave him a nod and Kral paused a moment to organize his thoughts. “Your defeat of Kleigh, not just once but multiple times was an embarrassment, but was of minor note. Once defeated, Kleigh was seen as inferior... thus, further defeats were seen as merely additional proof of his failure. This was somewhat enabled by his battle reports. I understand, from one of his aides, that he would selectively edit data sent back to Chxor High Command in regards to battle losses, enemy actions, and even his own ship's performances. While this kept him from being relieved, it also undermined any successes you had against him, as each seemed to be from extenuating circumstances and his own inferiority.”
The Baron frowned and Kral inwardly felt resignation at the awkward expression. “So,” the Baron said, “What you're saying is that they discounted whenever we won... but they rewarded Kleigh with command of Faraday.”
“A small, isolated world, beyond the current boundaries of the Chxor Empire and in a region which would have limited ability for expansion. At best, it was a consolation prize for his pursuit of you, at worst, a chance to fail in such a way as to allow for his termination. As you well know, it cost him his life when you returned.” Kral paused a moment to allow the Baron to think it through.
“Okay, but that implies a level of waste in the system,” Lucius said. “They gave him additional resources to hold the system and lost those.”
Kral nodded, “True. However, compared to their overall fleet strength, those ships were seen as a minimal investment. Also, after discussions with many of the crews, I suspect that all of those ships were recently constructed and crewed. The construction of some was substandard, with many technical issues noted by their commanders. Therefore, High Command may have decided that the ships could be better used in a backwater.”
“Okay,” Lucius said. “I'll accept that theory as plausible. What changed, then?”
“The two subsequent defeats that the Chxor Empire suffered at your hands,” Kral said. “The first raid here at Melcer cost them heavily. Particularly in the loss of such a large population of their slave laborers. They must know that those humans will bolster your own forces once they have recovered.” Kral felt a bit of satisfaction at that turnabout. While he had not previously felt any affinity to humans, he had still seen their treatment as wasteful and counterproductive. He had always tried to treat his non-Chxor crew with respect when he was an officer of the Chxor Empire. To treat them otherwise and expect anything other than betrayal was foolish, in his opinion.
“Yes, but compared to the total size of the Chxor Empire, why would the loss of their station change their doctrine?” The Baron asked.
“It is more to do with the location and the station and system commanders. Both were of the Logan genetic line, well connected, skilled bureaucrats, but limited at tactical and sometimes strategic thought processes,” Kral said. “While much of Chxor High Command are Logan, the Benevolence Council is not. High Command reports to the Benevolence Council, so, in order to show that the loss of the station was a fluke... I suspect that they launched the retaliatory strike at Faraday.”
“Which was defeated by the Balor,” Lucius said.
“I doubt that the Benevolence Council saw it that way,” Kral said. “They would most likely have sent one of their investigators to examine all records of prior engagements with you, your ship, as well as losses in the system and Kleigh's prior performance and the performance of the commanders at Melcer.”
“Would one of their investigators be able to see through the edited reports?” The Baron asked.
Kral thought back to his one, brief, encounter with a senior investigator. The Tier Eight investigator had impressed him with her detachment and observation and in the course of her investigation had removed his commander and executive officer and appointed him in their stead as the Ship Commander. Kral nodded, “Most likely, yes. The Investigators do not care about genetic lines or caste, they only care about results. It will not look good for High Command to have this series of failures, leading up to the losses of a substantial force for no apparent gain.”
“So, as a result?” Baron Giovanni asked.
“As a result,” Kral said. “I would expect them be directed to empower their better officers. In particular, Danar's System Commander, Krxil,” Kral said. “He was the Chxor officer who initially seized the system. As an Abaner, however, he was pulled back from front line operations to allow other, better connected, commanders their opportunities to succeed. Due to his success, he was given the Danar system to command. It was he who defeated the many attempts to seize it.”
“So, this Krxil is in command of Danar, what about here?”
“I think it likely that they promoted him to command of this region, with authority over Melcer, Tehran, Danar and possibly Yokohama with orders to hold Danar against any attack,” Kral said. “In addition, I would expect that they would bring forward additional forces to secure the Nova Roma system. They will assume that to be your target, and rightfully so, with its industry and population it is the most important system they have captured to date.”
“I see,” The Baron sat back and adopted a thoughtful expression. Once again, Kral felt resignation at the expressiveness of human faces. It seemed so superfluous. “So, we'll be facing their best commanders on this push. I should have made certain that our intelligence personnel talked with you already.”
“They had, but they did not think my theory plausible, given the static nature of the Chxor which they had witnessed to date,” Kral said. “Perhaps this will change their minds.”
Some odd expression flashed over the Baron's face. Kral wondered if he had said something wrong. Yet the Baron just gave him a nod, “Very well, that's good to know. And I suspect they will broaden their outlook after this... one way or another.” He stood up from his desk, “Anything else?”
Kral hesitated. He wished he had better abilities to read human emotions. If he had said something wrong or something that had angered the volatile human, it would be unlikely that the Baron would accept the logic of his argument. Still, this was, Kral judged, his best opportunity to bring up his own agenda. “Baron, I do have one request.”
The Baron sat back down, “Oh?”
Kral nodded, “Sir, I would like your permission to take an element of my people, in several of the captured vessels and attempt to make contact with elements who would be sympathetic to our cause.”
“You want to try to infiltrate the Chxor Empire and foment some kind of rebellion?” Baron Giovanni sat back. He was silent for a long moment in thought. “I thought that this was initially brought up and discarded, because the Chxor security forces would identify your people.”
“They would identify individuals or small groups sent in, yes,” Kral said. “However, a large group of ships, perhaps organized as a military convoy, would be allowed to update the Chxor security database, essentially adding personnel and authorizing them to be there. This would be more likely to work if the ships were damaged, as most of our captured Chxor vessels are.” Kral paused, “That is a secondary option and not without substantial risk. More likely... I personally know several individuals who I believe might be convinced to assist us. I will enter a system, contact them remotely and see if they can assist me.”
“If even one of them betrays you or one of your crew for that matter,” the Baron said, “You'll be far behind enemy lines with damaged ships and heavily outnumbered. I don't like the thought of losing you, you're a good officer and a valuable asset.”
“I was a valuable asset, yes,” Kral said. “However, my skills are of limited use at the moment. The Chxor ships are damaged, most of the Chxor prisoners have been screened, and there is no command for me.” Kral shrugged, “As you know, most humans would hesitate to accept me as their commander, despite the actions of my people at the Third Battle of Faraday.”
The Baron looked away. Kral's Chxor crews had moved their own ships in front of the Nova Roma task force to screen them from the Balor missile salvo at that battle. They had paid heavily as a result, but it had bought them some goodwill from the humans. Not all, however, had accepted them as a result. Particularly the people of Faraday, many of whom still held deep, abiding anger towards their former occupiers.
“This would allow me to be of benefit to your war effort... and also to begin the breakup of the Chxor Empire. I believe, as you do, that the Benevolence Council and the Chxor way of life needs to change. We have started that change among my people, but it needs to be pushed within the borders of the Empire in order to grow.”
Baron Giovanni sat back in his chair. His dark eyes studied Kral for a long moment. For that time, Kral briefly regretted his awakened emotions. While being able to feel pride, ambition, even loyalty and excitement were all of benefit, worry that his leader suspected him of treason was not. Kral could see that suspicion, even understand it, but he felt relief as well as the Baron discarded that thought and gave him a nod. “Alright. I don't like the risk. But I'll authorize you to begin planning and equipping an expedition with the goal of stirring up a rebellion. I'll assume you'll be taking copies of the retrovirus that allows reproduction?”
Kral nodded. It was one of the Baron's first gifts to his people. The Chxor Benevolence Council controlled the reproduction of all Chxor. It required a complicated process, undertaken only in the official medical centers, and it gave the Chxor absolutely no control over their offspring, who were birthed from machines and raised in creches.
“Right,” the Baron said. He rose and extended his hand. “Thank you, Kral. And thank you for your service. I meant what I said, I consider you a fine officer.”
“Thank you, Baron,” Kral said and took the human's hand. “I have become so from your example.” And who knows, Kral thought, if this works out, I may follow his example in founding my own empire as well.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
September 9, 2403
Reginald stared out the window, his reflection showing his British Imperial Officer uniform with the shiny brass buttons and the epaulets. The night lights of Michaelston, glowed, like a thousand tiny gems laid out on a black cloth. He particularly liked the epaulets, they served no real purpose, but they looked important. As he stared at his reflection, he concentrated and reached out with his mind. Of the psychics he knew, some needed absolute silence and a period of reflection to reach out like he did. Others, like Shaden Mira and Kandergain needed nothing more than a pause to do the same. He knew, in particular, a psychic who could only manifest her abilities when seated cross-legged in lotus position while breathing incense and scented candles. She was a little odd, though, he admitted.
After a long moment, his reflection altered and a tall, blonde-haired woman stared at him out of the glass of the window pane. “Reginald? What's happening?”
“Madam,” Reginald nodded, “I'm just checking in. Baron Giovanni and your daughter are fine.” He paused and rehearsed what he was about to say yet again. “Madam, I think I am... not ready for this kind of assignment.”
Kandergain pursed her lips, “Reginald, you know I think you're more than capable.”
“Yes,” He cleared his throat and his thoughts went to his last assignment... and how they still didn't know what had happened to the others involved. “But I don't know if I am ready for all this. Isn't Axen or Myanna available?” Both were more direct action types, better suited to field work and neither of them had taken the recent losses of Reginald.
Kandergain shook her head, “I know you are worried about your friends. But neither of them have the right talent set for this mission. If I was there, the Shadow Lords would take it as a threat they had to exterminate. With you... well, you're capable enough that they will hesitate to send infiltrators and still a minor enough threat that they won't be provoked.”
Reginald grimaced a bit at the evaluation, but he couldn't argue. He felt powerless, though. “I've made an arrangement with Miss Nix and Colonel Proscia, I'll work with their personnel to screen guests of the Baron as well as shadow him while he is on the planet. It is a bit more complex within the Fleet. Baron Giovanni seems to think that enemies will focus here, but I have concerns about his safety aboard ship.”
“Understood,” Kandergain said. She looked tired, Reginald realized. Granted, it was a mental projection, but that in itself was a sign of her exhaustion, for only if she were utterly exhausted would her mental projection show any signs of it. “Look, I'm investigating some of our non-psychic enemies. Admiral Collae and Mannetti are involved in something up to their eyebrows. We both know how capable those two are... and Admiral Collae has Mistress Blanc in his service as well, though I haven't been able to locate her.”
Reginald grimaced in distaste. Mistress Blanc was a powerful psychic, but she was very skilled at concealing her presence. She often acted as a pirate and mercenary. He also knew that Kandergain could become rather obsessive when Mistress Blanc was involved. He didn't know the details of their antagonism, but it went at least as far back as the Agathan Fleet's escape from Earth. “Do you think it might be some kind of decoy, perhaps to pull your attention away from elsewhere?”
She gave him a grim smile, “Oh, no, trust me, I recognize her efforts, Reginald. She's every bit as ambitious as any of the Shadow Lords... she just started further back on the power curve.” Reginald didn't miss the bitterness in Kandergain's voice. “But, as much as I hate to admit it, Mannetti and Collae are just as dangerous. Particularly with what Mannetti insinuated to Lucius before her escape on Faraday. I have more than a sneaking suspicion that whatever they're after here will tie back directly to Faraday.”
Reginald nodded. “Very well, madam.” He sighed, “What are your orders if the Shadow Lords should take direct action here?”
“Put out a call. If I can't come, I'll send Myanna or Axen, and if they aren't available, then Shaden might be able to shake free a team,” Kandergain said. Reginald nodded at that. Unlike Kandergain, Shaden used several small teams made up of psychics and non-psychics as his response units. Most often, Shaden fought the Balor with them, but sometimes he could send a team to support Kandergain against the Shadow Lords. Then again, Kandergain had possessed a similar team... and Reginald had acted as their handler.
“I've got to go,” Kandergain said. “We're about to emerge from shadow space and things will probably get busy here. Keep me informed of any developments.”
Her reflection in the glass faded, replaced by his own and Reginald sighed. He shook his head and stared out at the night sky for a long moment. He knew that Kandergain had faith in his abilities... but he didn't know if he did anymore. Self-doubt could be crippling for a psychic, he knew. Any kind of psychological trauma could leave critical weaknesses and blind spots in even the most disciplined mind. I wish I knew what had happened to them, Reginald thought, even bad news would be something. If it was bad news, he could mourn the loss of his friends and find some way to move on.
His gray eyes locked on his reflection and he focused his mind. For just a moment, his reflection wavered, replaced by a silhouette of a woman, but the image faded back to his reflection before he could decide if it was a projection from his own subconscious or an actual connection.
Reginald put his head against the cool glass of the apartment window and closed his eyes. He felt a single tear work down his cheek. Please, he thought, please be alive.
***
Kate Bueller rose to greet the Centauri Confederation Envoy as he stepped into her office. The portly, bearded man gave her a genial smile and shook her hand, “Madame Foreign Minister, thank you for your time.” His deep voice and accent gave his words a bit more gravity.
“Of course,” Kate said. “Though I must admit I'm surprised at your sudden request for a meeting this morning. Does this, perhaps, have something to do with the arrival of the Centauri warship late last night?”
She saw that her directness had thrown him off. That was good. The Centauri Envoy had been far too calm and collected since his arrival to the system over a month previously. For that matter, he had not yet officially recognized the United Colonies as a nation... and he had not addressed the rhetoric that Alicia Nix's people had begun to hear in the Centauri news outlets. While details varied from one to the next, the general consensus was that the Dreyfus Fleet was the former property of Amalgamated Worlds and as such, it should be turned over to their inheritors, the Centauri Confederation. Some of the more ugly stories had suggested the entire crews be tried and executed for treason and that the Centauri Confederation use whatever force necessary to achieve that outcome. Despite the multiway civil war underway, the Centauri Confederation worlds boasted the highest population densities and some of the most advanced technology in human space, all of it concentrated over only a dozen star systems.
“Warship?” Envoy Xinghan asked. “Oh, you mean the destroyer that escorted in our envoy's yacht? My apologies, I thought that surely with the might of the United Colonies and their Nova Roma allies, they would not see a threat in one single, little warship.” His tone was polite and friendly, but there was no mistaking the edge to his words. “No, happily, I am here to coordinate for a state event. We have a senior government official, appointed as our Ambassador, and sent at the behest of President Spiridon to meet with your head of state. We'd like to have it held aboard his yacht, the Centauri Cornucopia.”
“Oh?” Kate asked. “The Baron is quite busy, I'm not sure that I can guarantee his attendance. He is dealing with the threat of the Chxor, as you know” Kate managed to put as much bite into that as possible. It was something of an embarrassment that the 'strongest' human nation was too busy fighting itself to deal with a real threat to human survival.
“Of course,” Envoy Xinghan said. “We will wait at his leisure. Our Ambassador would like to be officially welcomed to the system by Baron Lucius Giovanni, as a sign of the close partnership that we believe will occur over the next few months.”
Kate hid a frown at his smug tone and his word choice. Accepting an ambassador by the head of state implied a lower status. Granted, the Centauri were arrogant enough to claim superiority over everyone else. Some of their politicians still insisted upon restoration of the old Amalgamated Worlds borders, where all human space lay under their domain. For that matter, the 'close partnership' he implied sounded more like a subject nation than an alliance.
“I'll see what I can do, upon the Baron's return,” Kate answered.
“Of course,” Envoy Xinghan said. He stood, “Now, I am certain that you are quite busy, so I will not take up any more of your time. Please extend my greetings and those of my nation to your leader, Baron Giovanni.” Again, there was a tone of smugness, almost like a kid with a secret... or a poker player with a winning hand.
Kate managed to return his smile and get him out of the office with a polite farewell before her seething anger made it to her expression. She didn't know what this new Ambassador had planned, but she didn't like it, already. Part of her wondered if this were some sort of trap, to kidnap the Baron and hold him ransom against the ships of the Dreyfus Fleet. That kind of tactic was questionable, to say the least. It would go against all kinds of diplomatic precedence, yet the Centauri might see it as worthwhile if it gave them the Dreyfus Fleet.
For that matter, the presence of their cruiser was a dangerous sign, as well. Though not on par with the weight of the Nova Roma forces, it could cause a high amount of damage before anyone could respond. She would have to talk with the military, see if they could move it to a safer orbit, preferably away from anything it could destroy in a surprise attack... like their capital.
She would be going outside her official capacity if she did that. But there still was no appointed Minister of Defense. For that matter, elections had stalled out on forming an official government as various politicians scrambled to form initial voting blocs. Kate had hoped to develop a two party system to keep most of the government in balance, but it looked more and more like they would have a multiple party system, probably as many as five major parties.
Until the initial infighting was done, she managed a lot of the day to day actions of the government as a whole. Which was absurd, in a way. Still, without direct oversight, she felt like the entire house of cards would collapse, particularly if the system didn't have time to become set in the minds of those within it. She'd rather they flailed about within those confines, rather than seeking to rise in power from less legitimate means.
Kate looked at the clock and started planning the day. She had to attend another round of initial voting, the preliminary, back room discussions of party affiliation and vote trading, and then probably another few hours of cabinet sessions. All of that before she could really do anything important. It was only seven in the morning, but she was certain it would be a very late night already.
***
Chapter VII
Port Klast System
Port Klast
September 10, 2403
Mason straightened the collar of his shirt. He felt absurd in the silken white shirt, with the broad collar and the open chest. Even more so with the heavy gold necklaces. He drew the lines at the earrings, though, especially after Kandergain's comments about how 'fetching' they made him look.
She took far too much pleasure in his discomfort. Worse, in a way, was how she had Lauren cackling at the whole idea. As if to reinforce that thought, he heard Lauren snort behind him and Kandergain restrain a giggle. Can't trust women in numbers, Mason thought, they team up and try to put you in your place. He supposed he should be grateful the two didn't hate one another, but he was mostly just resigned to them being friends.
He took one last resigned breath and strode down the shuttle ramp, once again donning the Stavros routine in his mind. “Welcome, welcome, friends!” Mason said with a broad fake smile, even as he evaluated the men and women who'd answered his calls. Most of them were what he had expected, either hard-bitten mercenaries who were down on their luck or fresh-off-the-ship kids eager to make a name for themselves and get rich. Mason barely held back a cringe at one boy, in particular, who didn't look old enough to shave, much less to fly a fighter in combat.
“Now, we'll have a simple selection process,” Mason said. “And then we can talk contracts.”
“We talk contracts now, or we walk,” a woman near the front said. Her hoarse voice, rotted teeth, and whipcord lean frame suggested years of serious drug abuse. Mason wouldn't have signed her on even in his worst years of pirating, not as she was... but Stavros wouldn't hesitate. Well, Mason thought, if she passes the simulator then I'll just have to keep an eye on her.
Mason didn't bother to smile at her, Stavros would see her as weak, an applicant. “You want to talk contracts? Fine, I'm the Captain. I give the orders. And I'll see if you are worth the breath to waste discussing contracts before I waste that breath, understood?” He put a hard edge in his voice and let some of his own darkness leak through. He could see them respond to it. The veterans stood a little straighter at that snap to his voice while the unseasoned kids all gave him their full attention, their eyes wide.
“Miss Kelly is my executive officer. She'll call each of you forward by name, two at a time,” Mason said. “Follow her orders as if they were my own, understood?” Since they didn't have any simulators, Lauren and he had rigged up the shuttle flight systems to run a fighter simulation. It wasn't the best representation, but it was good enough.
There were mutters of assent and grunts of acknowledgment, that was about as much as Mason could expect from this group. He watched as Lauren called the first two forward and Kandergain stepped up next to him. “So, how many do you think we can trust?” Mason asked.
“None, right now,” Kandergain said in a low voice. “I'd be surprised if Admiral Mannetti doesn't have at least a couple of her people to check you out, either with this lot or the crew we signed on yesterday. Probably a couple from some of the other larger pirate organizations as well. Everyone wants to know more about Stavros.” Then again, Mason's real fear with most of the crew he had signed on was that they'd try to take the ship. Not that they'd succeed, he knew, certainly not with Lauren and Kandergain to back him. But they might damage his act in the process and they would definitely complicate things.
Mason chuckled, “Know more they will. I'll show them all what a real pirate is made of... and it's a good thing that scum Tommy King is dead or I'd show him too.” He put more than an edge of bluster in his tone.
“Well, we'll see if any of these lot can handle a Falke,” Kandergain said, her tone dry. “Though I suppose if they get themselves killed, it will save you paying them in the end.” The callousness of her tone would have shocked him... except he'd seen her display far worse an act before. For that matter, he thought, she has done worse.
“True,” Mason said. “Though I'd be out the fighter. But that is something to think about.” Stavros wasn't known for his loyalty to crew. Then again, the Falke fighters were relatively cheap. They were good for the price, he knew. Falke's were Tau Ceti built, the export model of their Alder fighters. The Tau Ceti had used the Alders for several decades of their ongoing civil war within the Centauri Confederation. They were light and fast and carried a good armament mix between their short range energy weapons and their missile racks. The Falke's lacked the advanced sensors and targeting computers of the Alder, but that was an acceptable price when they'd see use as pirates. Their targets should be mercenaries or militia, not full up military forces.
In theory, anyway. Mason wasn't certain what Admiral Mannetti had planned, but the Falkes and his cruiser should be very tempting towards recruitment.
Lauren led the first two back out of the shuttle and gave Mason a shake of the head. “Roirdan and Khemali,” she called out.
The drug using woman stepped forward, “I'm Asara Khemali.” She stepped forward and impatiently rocked back and forth on her heels.
“Roirdan?” Lauren asked again.
A moment later, the young boy started forward. “That's me, I'm Cal Roirden.” The edge on his voice, the set of his shoulders, and the way his eyes were locked on Mason gave him warning. As the boy stepped forward, his hand went to a concealed pistol in his belt. Mason saw the move coming though and he stepped forward to catch the boy's wrist before he could draw the pistol.
“You bastard, Stavros! You killed my brother and father at Quadi. I'll kill you!”
Mason swung his elbow and caught the boy in the temple. He slumped and Mason let him fall limply to the pavement. A glance around at the others showed a mix of eager hunger and disinterest from the majority. Some of the younger types showed shock and even a bit of fear. Dammit, Mason thought, got to play this one out or half this lot will think I'm soft.
He knelt down and picked up the boy's pistol. It was a cheap, Taurtec, nine millimeter, probably all the boy could afford, Mason guessed. He could feel the eyes of the others on him and some bit of his own eagerness. If he didn't kill the boy, he'd face mutiny or worse later on. For that matter, Stavros Heraklion probably had hundreds of enemies, many of them far more dangerous than one Cal Roirden.
Mason aimed the pistol down at the boy. Yet... he himself had his own grudge with Stavros. The boy didn't deserve death for that.
In that split moment of hesitation, Lauren stepped forward and fired her submachine gun down into the boy. He couldn't stop the look of surprise that he shot her, but she answered it with just a grim nod. She looked around. “Looks like Roirden passed on his slot,” Lauren said, her voice flat. “Wang, you're next.”
There was a pause and a man stepped forward, “Sam Wang.”
“Right,” Lauren said. “Let's go.”
Mason tossed the boy's pistol to the side and stepped back. He adopted a leer as he did so, even as he cringed inside. He had nearly given himself away, nearly spoiled the whole thing. Worse, in a way, was that Lauren had to be the one to step forward and save the situation.
Kandergain stepped up next to him. “That was interesting.” She eyed the corpse, “I'm not certain I want to be signed on with you, Captain, if this is the way of things.” The detachment in her voice was either from her own distaste with what had happened or from the possibility of having to do something similar, Mason would guess.
Mason turned to her. He wanted to tell her that he didn't want to do this anymore, that her Baron Giovanni wasn't worth it. He wanted to pull off the stupid clothing and go back to being Mason McGann, captain of a tramp freighter and no one of consequence. Instead, he stood up straight and looked her in the eye, “That's the only way there is. You mess with Stavros, you pay in blood.”
A glance around at the pilots told him that they bought it. Even the cold killers in the group looked wary. He wouldn't see any trouble from them. Yet he knew that another ghost would join the ranks in his nightmares.
***
“Well,” Kandergain said, “Captain, I've finished looking at possible people to sign on with, as you instructed.” Mason looked up from where he sat, feet propped up on a console, as he reviewed data from the pilot runs. Well, he'd already reviewed them all, but reviewing them prevented him from having to think back to Cal Roirden's face.
“I suppose I should look through those,” Mason said and put a surly edge to his tone. Lauren and Kandergain had a very public confrontation with him earlier over whether he should sign on with one of the local pirate groups or continue operations on his own. Mason figured they'd made a big enough scene that all of the crew would know that Stavros was essentially broke, once all the bills were paid.
The lure of pirate groups for independents like Stavros was that they often had informants on a number of worlds and even in some of the shipping companies. For that matter, shipping companies, especially some of the Centauri corporations often hired pirate gangs to go after their competition. Those advantages, combined with the fact that most groups pooled their plunder, meant that they tended to be more successful than an independent like Stavros.
Of course, someone like Stavros didn't have to worry about the repercussions for his actions, for the most part. Most of the big pirate organizations, such as Admiral Mannetti's group, had bases and ports of call. They had to tread carefully and they had to police not just their own numbers, but any independents who operated in their areas. Stavros had preyed off of any ship he came across, to include other pirates. Of course, Mason thought dryly, that made Stavros enemies, such as Tommy King, and had some repercussions of its own.
Mason closed out the list of prospective pilots and forwarded it to Lauren's console. “You can contact those pilots and tell them we've berths for them.” He had selected a mix of the experienced and new pilots, mostly based off of those who he thought had some potential and others he thought would be good enough to do the job and less likely to ask questions. He'd also highlighted the four pilots he figured for plants.
He pulled up the list of pirate groups known to hire on experienced ships and captains. His eyebrows went up at the first entry. “Savino?”
“She's got an add out,” Kandergain said levelly.
Mason coughed, “Probably not best. We're not on good terms.” It wasn't quite true. Arela Savino and Stavros weren't on bad terms with one another. But if anyone would see through his disguise, it would be Arela. “I hadn't realized she had become so successful.”
“She's quite the bloodthirsty marauder, I understand,” Kandergain said. She raised an eyebrow, “Something of a history?”
“Yeah,” Mason said, his voice distant. He thought about the young, vibrant woman he'd met many years ago... and the jaded, bitter woman he had left behind. “Something like that.” His eyes roved down the rest of the list. “Chalmers thinks too small in scale, I refuse to work under a man so timid. Yarris and Malcom are both prospects, but we can talk with them. Who is this Penwaithe? I've never heard of him.”
“She is Councilor Penwaithe, of the Halcyon Colony,” Kandergain said. Her voice carried the exasperated tone of someone who hated working with people of sub-par intelligence. Mason would have taken offense, except that Stavros wasn't the brightest... clever, conniving, and even canny, but not intelligent, much less educated. “They're looking for privateers, trying to fund their independence movement, I guess.”
“Huh,” Mason said. The name sounded familiar and Mason reviewed his encounters over the past week. He snorted as he remembered his meeting with Thomas Kaid, and the guests he had passed. Clever bastard, arranged an introduction without actually having to do much beyond his meeting us one after the other, Mason thought.
“Probably going to get more than they bargained for,” Mason said with a chuckle, in full Stavros mode. Then again, that was generally what happened when a colony went that route. They invited in some 'friendly' privateers and mercenaries and shortly found that their independence they fought so hard for became tyranny by the people they brought in to fight for them. He didn't have much sympathy for them, though. The common folk, sure, but the politicians who sought to edge out a larger slice of the pie... for them he felt nothing.
“I guess they've already made an agreement with a couple of the pirate groups to act as auxiliaries. Well, they're both technically privateers and freedom fighters themselves. I think Admiral Collae and that Nova Roma woman...” Kandergain pursed her lips in thought. “Manacotti?”
“Mannetti,” Mason said with a smile at her feigned disinterest. He turned it into something of a leer for the sake of the bugs, “I wouldn't mind being her auxiliary, if you know what I mean.”
Kandergain gave him a level glare, “You're a pig, Stavros.”
“Oh, I know,” Mason said. He glanced over the list a bit more. Since they were certain that the ship's private network was fairly secure, she had annotated who all had ties to Mannetti. The Halcyon Colony looked the best. They were located in the Garris Major system, a trinary star system with four inhabited worlds. It seemed a bit unfair that he'd have to head all the way back to Garris Major after coming out here to Port Klast. They were fighting for independence from the Colonial Republic's official rulers of the star system, which was the heavily populated planet Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz, typical of most Colonial Republic worlds, was notionally a democracy and actually a oligarchy ruled by one powerful family, which also owned the industry and the planet's security forces, headed by Presidente Salazar.
He didn't know much about Halcyon colony, but he somehow doubted that they were much better. If they were, they could have gone a number of different routes rather than recruiting pirates to act on their behalf. “Alright, I still think that signing on with anyone else limits the haul we could make out here,” Mason said with a straight face. It hurt not to snort at that, especially with how abysmally he'd done in both sales and purchases. He was pretty certain that some of the merchants on Port Klast truly looked forward to Stavros's next visit. “But I suppose I can talk with Malcom, Yarris, and even this Councilor Penwaithe. Who knows, maybe she'll give us a sign on bonus if I show her some of my skills?” Mason leered again.
“Whatever,” Kandergain said. “Lets get off this rock, though. The longer we set here, the more money you'll owe Traffic Control.”
Mason nodded, “Yes, I'll go talk with them all this afternoon.”
***
“Councilor, there's a... gentleman here to see you,” the guard said as he opened the door. “He says it's about our business with Mr. Kaid.” The distaste in his voice was painfully evident.
“That would be a Captain Heraklion?” the woman's voice was high and clear, “Send him in, Chris.”
Mason gave the guard a condescending pat on the shoulder as he walked through the door, “Told you, friend.” He leaned in close, “Ladies always want to talk with Stavros.” He stepped into the office and gave it a quick once-over. The Councilor was from off-world, which meant she had to rent offices. What kind of money she spent could tell Mason a lot about both her personality and circumstances. A cheap, barely inhabitable office would tell him that her planet was hard up on currency and more likely to 'disappear' their hired help than pay them. Contra-wise, an opulent set of offices would suggest that she was well connected, probably eager to spend her world's money, and also more likely to 'disappear' the hired help rather than waste money on them.
What he saw impressed him a bit, in spite of himself. She had obviously shelled out for an office in a nicer area of Port Klast. Even so, the office was mostly utilitarian, with simple, bland furnishings. There were a couple nicknacks, he would assume from home. Her desk held a holovid frame and her personal computer. It looked like she didn't like spending money... but she was willing to shell out for the things that were necessary.
Mason turned his attention to the Councilor herself and again, he was a little impressed. She was of medium age and she clearly hadn't received the best medical treatments to extend her lifespan. Rather than some gaudy outfit with garish makeup, she wore a professional business suit and minimal makeup. A look of mild distaste flashed across her face when she saw Stavros, but she hid it well. Not eager to do business with my type, but willing to do what's necessary, Mason thought, interesting.
She extended her hand for a shake. Mason took it, but turned her hand sideways. “Madame,” Mason bowed over her hand. She flushed a bit, which suggested that she wasn't used to that kind of behavior. Also an interesting bit of data for him to tuck away.
She pulled her hand back quickly and gestured for him to take a seat while she seated herself behind her desk. “Captain Heraklion, I understand you've some interest in our offer to serve as a privateer for my world,” her voice was all business.
Mason gave a nonchalant shrug. “I am somewhat ambivalent about it, to be honest. I'm interested to see what you can offer, but I honestly feel like I can make more on my own.” He put a tone of boredom in his voice.
“I see,” Councilor Penwaithe said. She glanced at her computer screen and he could see her eyes narrow as she, no doubt, read his background. “Your cruiser, the Kraken, is quite a vessel. I don't see where it originally hails from, though.”
“Oh?” Mason asked. “That's interesting. It is a fine ship, very advanced technology, easily a match for even a Centauri battlecruiser.” That was overstating it, which Mason knew for a fact. Stavros's vessel had proven a tough opponent, but in his hands, not quite as capable as his boasts. Still, no one else knew that.
“Really?” Her tone was doubting.
“Oh, I'm sure there's many that can vouch for my skill... most of them are dead, though,” Mason said with a vicious grin. “If you need more credentials than that, well, I'm certain Thomas Kaid could vouch for me, I was his guest just the other evening.”
“I remember,” she said. Her face took on a thoughtful expression as she connected her meeting with Thomas Kaid and their 'chance' encounter. Clearly she was wondering if Kaid had arranged the meeting.
She sat silent for a long moment before clearing her throat. “Well, then. If we decide to sign you on as a privateer, we have a number of benefits to an independent captain such as yourself.” She met his eyes levelly, “First off, I assure you that you will receive your fair share of whatever prize money taken over the course of our campaign.”
“Oh?” Mason asked with narrow eyes.
“All prize money goes into escrow, you can monitor your accounts, but not access them until we release them. On the other hand, we can't access those accounts, other than to put money into them. Those assets will be secured here at Port Klast with PKS Bank,” she said.
Mason raised his eyebrows, “That sounds remarkably secure. So long as you're paying fair shares, anyway.”
“Of course,” Councilor Penwaithe said. “As Captain, you'd be eligible for twenty five percent of your own prize money as well as a flat percentage, right now, five percent, of all prize money awarded. Your crew, also, would be paid out of that fund, they'd split five percent of your prize money and have shares in the overall prize money.”
“I keep one hundred percent, as my own man,” Mason said.
“Which is probably substantially less than what you can earn with us,” Penwaithe said. “We have shipping schedules, patrol schedules, cargo manifests... all that captured from Nova Corp offices when we liberated our planet.” She gave him a level stare, “For that matter, we have contact with other freedom fighting organizations to coordinate attacks on planetary and orbital targets.”
Mason's eyes narrowed, “That would be valuable. Of course, many a pirate has been sucked into such an ideal situation only to find himself interned when the authorities come to call.”
Penwaithe's face went hard. “I assure you, Captain Heraklion, that we will not bow down to the 'authorities' in the Garris Major system. My government is spending every effort to get out from under their thumb. We've pledged our own money towards that goal, signing on mercenaries and... people such as yourself. We have assembled a substantial military force at extreme debt to ourselves, all with the goal of defying the tyrannical rule of the Salazar family.”
“Now that something I can drink to,” Mason said with a genuine smile. Despite himself, he was impressed with their genuine efforts, it actually sounded like they wanted to improve their world's situation. “I do love a good revolution...” He shook his head, “Pardon me, I'm a bit of an anarchist.” His slip was one that could very well cost him this opportunity.
The Councilor cocked her head at him, “That's quite alright, Captain. Excuse me, I'm a bit passionate about this myself.” She let out a sigh. “Now, along with that twenty five percent of prize money, we'll restock your munitions, refuel your ship and fighters, and conduct what maintenance and repairs we can manage at our own expense.”
Mason raised his eyebrows, “That's quite generous.” He would imagine that the priority of repairs would go to Halcyon's own forces, but still, it would take down a high level of overhead for most of their privateers, just in providing spare parts and equipment. “How would this work, then?” Mason asked.
“Our privateers will be formed into squadrons, based upon their capabilities and experience. Given your... colorful history, you might even be the leader of a squadron yourself. Otherwise you'll answer to a squadron commander. We're frocking them as Commodores,” she said. From her tone, the last was dangled as a plug to his pride. Still, she had used the term 'squadrons' which suggested quite a bit more combat power than he had assumed. And they're allied to Admiral Mannetti, Mason thought darkly.
“I do like the sound of Commodore Stavros,” Mason said with a grin. “Though I detest answering to someone else. I would think that the firepower of the Kraken would make it eligible to be a flagship of a squadron.”
“We might be able to work out an agreement of some kind as far as an independent command, dependent upon your initial performance, even if you're not eligible to command a squadron,” the Councilor hedged. From her tone, despite her distaste for Stavros, his ship and reputation were no doubt a lure.
“Well,” Mason said. “I have to say I'm a bit impressed. Still, I don't want to sign away my freedom so quickly. Let me evaluate my options a bit and I'll get back to you.” He could see a bit of disappointment on her face.
“Of course, Captain,” she said. She stood and extended her hand, “I hope you'll make the right decision and sign with us.”
***
“Well?” Kandergain asked. They had decided to meet at Webb's. On a planet dedicated to commerce both legitimate and illegitimate, there were a number of businesses who made their mark selling privacy. Their booths were guaranteed secure. Webb's was the most secure and even boasted psychics on staff to screen for psychic means of eavesdropping. Upon entry, Mason had seen Kandergain roll her eyes at the notice.
“I've made contact with Malcom, Yarris and Penwaithe,” Mason said as he slipped into the booth. “I managed to alienate Yarris, as expected.” He smirked a bit at that. Yarris MacWard was the head of a crime syndicate. The man was a notorious skinflint and extremely meticulous. Stavros's sloppiness and condescending attitude had nearly gotten him thrown out. That was the point, of course. Yarris had no ties with Mannetti, which meant they couldn't get much out of him. “Malcom, though, I think realized something was up. Trying the Stavros routine with him might have been a mistake,” Mason admitted.
“I hadn't realized that Malcom Reynard had dealings with Stavros,” Kandergain said. “Otherwise I wouldn't have put him on the list.”
Mason grimaced, “He's dealt with Tommy King, before. He was part of his crew, at one point he captained one of his auxiliary ships, as well.” He shrugged, “I don't think he made me, but I could tell he wasn't entirely buying the Stavros routine.” It was unfortunate, as Malcom was associated more directly with Mannetti. If Mason had trusted the man a bit more, he might have tried a direct approach. Still, he didn't think it was worth the risk, not with how long had passed... and not with how Tommy King's crew had parted ways.
“Well, I would have pulled him from the list, if I knew that,” Kandergain said.
“No matter,” Mason said. He let out a deep breath, “That leaves the Halcyon Colony offer as the best deal. And, to be honest, I'd rather go with them. It looks less likely to lead to outright murder and rape.” He looked over at Lauren, “You?”
Lauren looked tired. Mason didn't know if that was from the work load he'd dumped on her as his executive officer or if it was from having to kill the Roirden boy. Probably both, he decided. “I made contact, he's amenable. I'll arrange for transportation tomorrow and he's assured me that he'll take care of security.”
“Excellent,” Mason said. He saw Kandergain open her mouth to ask a question, but he spoke before she could, “How about our situation aboard ship?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, but she gave him a slight nod. Good, Mason thought, she's willing to let me have my secrets and the less people who know about this, the better.
“Well,” Kandergain said, “Peterson is Kaid's man, for sure. As far as I can tell, he's here mostly to keep an eye on you, but I don't think he knows your actual identity, just that 'Stavros' is an alias.” Mason grimaced at that, but nodded at her to continue. “Theresa Lourdes, the medical officer you hired, is one of Mannetti's people. Worse, she's both spy and assassin. I would strongly recommend you don't require any treatment that would allow her to give you injections or surgery. Mannetti apparently has some serious interest in you, because there is also Mark Mendoza, the communications officer, and Erik Mondragon, our new fighter squadron executive officer.”
“Hmm,” Mason said. “I'd fingered Lourdes and Mondragon, but not Mendoza.” That bothered him, because looking back it should have been obvious. Mendoza's background was too good. He could have signed on with a legitimate mercenary company, so he really had no business signing up with scum like Stavros. “Okay, we'll continue with the assumption that our communications are compromised from here on out. That might actually work in our favor, especially if the enemy thinks they're reading our mail.” He thought for a long moment. “I'll limit his access to the Kraken's computer network. If he's really good, he'll find some work around, but that will take him time.” He looked at Lauren, “I want you to keep him very busy. He's got that squeaky clean background, get him dirty some, push him, everything from counterfeit identity cards to pirating entertainment programs. I want him exhausted, so he doesn't have the time or desire to do anything other than sleep. If he gives you any trouble–”
Lauren snorted, “He won't. He's terrified of me already.”
Something about the way she said that gave Mason chills. Lauren had a dark patch in her own soul and Mason didn't like the thought of what this was going to cost her in the end. He'd seen the toll paid by enough companions over time... the worst of them were the ones who didn't care about the cost in the end... people like Arela. “Right.” He looked at Kandergain, “Who else?”
“The cargo master, Carlos Ortiz, is something of a free agent, he just sells information on cargoes and ports,” Kandergain shrugged. “A couple of the others are mercenary enough that they'll sell information as well, but they're opportunistic amateurs rather than professionals.”
“Alright,” Mason nodded. “I'll make the call to Councilor Penwaithe. From here on out, we're Halcyon Privateers.”
***
Melcer System
United Colonies
September 25, 2403
The soft chime of his comm unit awoke Lucius from a dead sleep. He sat up and activated it, his first thought being it was some kind of Chxor retaliation. Yet there were no alarm klaxons and no sounds of the ship readying for combat. “Baron Lucius Giovanni,” he said and felt some pride that his voice sounded sharp and crisp, rather than groggy.
“Baron, this is Lieutenant Ezra at communications. You have an ansible call from your sister, sir. I told her what time it is here, but she was very insistent.”
“That's fine,” Lucius said. “Put her through.” Alanis wouldn't call unless it was something important, he knew. His first thought was that something must have happened to his daughter and he felt a well of panic. He wiped at his face nervously. Maybe it was something else, something more mundane, he hoped. It couldn't be anything between her and Reese, at least, he thought, she'd sent that message that Reese seemed to have come to his senses and that they had already patched things up. He was grateful for that, though he still had some reservations about her taking him back.
After what seemed like an eternity, Alanis's face appeared on the screen. “Lucius,” she said and her voice broke a bit. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying and tears still trailed down her face. “I know... I know that you're busy, but I need you here.” She'd clearly routed the call through from her apartment to the ansible station they'd established in Michaelston. Lucius didn't want to think of how expensive the call was... then again, he ruled the planet, he supposed he had the pay to cover it. I still haven't checked what my pay is, the random thought went through the back of his mind and was smothered by his concern.
Lucius felt the knot of tension in his chest grow tighter, “Alanis, what happened, are you alright, is Kaylee alright?”
She nodded, “Your daughter is fine, Lucius. It's...” She shook her head, “I don't want to talk about it right now. Look, I don't want to pull you away from the front, I know it's not fair... but this once I need you.”
Lucius nodded slowly. “I'll be there.” They were establishing a supply depot here at Melcer and staging for the next part of the attack. It was only a week's travel from Melcer to Faraday and only five days return through shadow space. The initial planning could continue without him. He wished, once again, that he could rely on someone as he normally did upon Anthony Doko. Lucius's longtime friend, however, was still under house arrest and that left Lucius without his right hand.
“Thank you, Lucius,” Alanis said. “I'll see you soon.” She cut the call from her end. Lucius felt a dozen scenarios go through his head, even as he thought about what he had to do on his end. It was grossly unfair, he knew, for the commander to jaunt home to deal with a personal issue in the middle of a war. Still, he thought, I'll just have to make certain I don't make a habit of it. For that matter, he should see what kind of leave policy that the various ship commanders had for emergencies.
Lucius dialed Admiral Dreyfus and then stood up quickly from his bed and moved to the closet. He pulled out his uniform even as he heard Admiral Dreyfus's confused voice. “Admiral Dreyfus, this is Lucius. I'm going to have to take a short leave of absence. I'll be headed back to Faraday, there's... an issue I need to deal with,” Lucius said.
“What?” Admiral Dreyfus asked. “What's happened, how are you going, what are we supposed to do...”
“Admiral,” Lucius said, in a calm voice. “I don't have time to discuss the details.” Not a lie, Lucius thought, I don't have time to find out the details to discuss them. “The destroyer Nova Rosnik is headed back to Faraday in two hours, if I remember right. I'll board and travel back to Faraday. Which means I have two hours to pack, give you my guidance, and sign whatever necessary to authorize you to make decisions in my stead while I'm gone.” Lucius pinched his lips at that. “Besides, it's not like you don't have the decades of experience necessary to do this job anyway.” Though his lack of recent experience continued to make Lucius nervous, as did his... intransigence as far as innovation and including personnel outside of his trusted circle.
“Right,” Admiral Dreyfus said, his voice a bit more calm. “We'll continue the preparations for our attack at Tehran and then Danar, drawing on the updated intelligence. Do I have your permission to dispatch the scouts?”
“Of course,” Lucius said. They were supposed to brief him tomorrow on the scout deployments, but he had full confidence in their ability to conduct that. “I'll be in touch via ansible for any major issues but maintain communications security on our individual operations.” The ansible network was supposed to be secure, but they still didn't want to put out operational information on it if they didn't have to.
Lucius at least would get an opportunity to see how the development in and around Faraday was progressing. From what he understood, the Chxor prison colony was rapidly becoming not only self-sufficient but actually producing products for the rest of the system. Kral's appointees there, while not trusted to work with humans directly, apparently were at least competent managers. He could also make time for the research and development scientists and even the engineers working on the Balor ships. Hopefully he could even stop in and talk with Anthony Doko and reassure his friend that not only was he needed, he was missed.
All that assuming that whatever has Alanis so upset won't use up more of my time, Lucius thought. The thought wasn't particularly welcome, especially as he thought of the handful of things that might upset her to this point... and what his own reaction was likely to be.
I wasn't there to help her when the Chxor took Nova Roma, Lucius thought, but I am here now. He would do whatever necessary to make things right.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
September 25, 2403
Reese gave a contented sigh as he stepped out of the lift and onto his floor. The apartment that he and Alanis shared in Michaelston wasn't all that high and he could have taken the stairs, but it felt good to indulge himself a bit. It had been an interesting week, seeking out work for the first time since he joined the Fleet. Really, for the first time in his life, as the Nova Roma Fleet had signed him on with few questions asked.
Luckily, his skills were in high demand and several of the start-ups companies were offering ludicrous salaries for skilled communications and programming experts like himself. Granted, he privately thought that some of those offers were due to his family connections, but he wouldn't complain about that. They'd get a hard-working employee and if they hoped he might have the ear of the Baron, well, he wouldn't dash those hopes. Not that I'd go to Lucius for anything, Reese thought darkly.
It felt good to have solved his problems, his way. And while Alanis was totally dedicated to her goals of becoming an officer in Lucius's glorious United Colonies Fleet, well... Reese gave a satisfied smile. He was certain her priorities would change.
He opened the door to their apartment, but he frowned as he heard Alanis was home already. Normally she was out most of the afternoon, either trying to improve her physical training or training with Anthony Doko. Reese grimaced at the reminder of what had happened to Anthony. Beached... all but a disgrace, because that bastard Lucius wouldn't stand up for him, Reese thought. It was obvious that Anthony Doko would never have betrayed the Baron, but for the sake his his precious alliance with the Nova Roma Emperor, Lucius had thrown his long-time friend to the wolves.
He stepped into the dining room with a smile, “Alanis, you won't believe what these fools are offering for even a halfway decent programmer.” He started to go on when her appearance broke through to him. She was seated at the dining room table facing the door, her hands in her lap out of sight. Her shoulders were hunched, her face was pinched, her eyes were bloodshot from crying. “Alanis, are you okay, did something happen?” His first thought was that something had happened to Lucius and he couldn't help a pleased feeling at that.
“You know damned well what happened!” Alanis snarled.
“What?” Reese asked, confused.
She grabbed a sheaf of papers from the top of the table and threw them at his chest. He caught them and stared at them with a confused expression for a long moment. It took him a moment to read and make sense of it. It was an official response to her application to the Faraday Military Academy. He looked up and did his best to keep his relief off his face, “You were rejected? Why?” She didn't respond, so he flipped the pages to the indicated section. He felt his heart sing when he saw. “But, Alanis, this is wonderful news, you're pregnant!”
“Yes, Reese,” Alanis snapped. Her voice was sharp and her tone suggested that Reese was acting like an idiot. “I'm pregnant. I also have a reproduction implant, you know, the little device that prevents that sort of thing... or enables if properly triggered.” Her dark eyes bored into him and Reese couldn't help but flinch and look away.
“The first thing I thought,” Alanis said, her voice almost dead, “Was that my implant must have failed. That happens, sometimes. So I got out my datapad and did a diagnostic.” Reese felt his stomach drop. This wasn't how it was supposed to have gone. “You know what I found? Someone hacked it's programming to gain access. That same person switched the implant settings over from preventive to fertility enhancing. Why, I asked myself, would anyone do that?”
Reese couldn't meet her eyes. The anger seemed to radiate from her, a palpable thing that made his face burn. “Alanis, listen...”
“No, Reese, you listen,” Alanis snapped. “I didn't want to think it was you. I wanted to think your apology was well meant, that you really wanted to support me. I traced the code... you didn't even try to hide it, it was right from your datapad.”
Reese opened his mouth and searched for words. Finally he settled on the truth, “I thought you'd be happy. We're having a child!”
“No, Reese, I'm having a child. There's a distinct difference,” Alanis said. “And I'm having a child because you lied to me, you hacked my implant, and because you wanted to manipulate me and prevent me from going to the Academy. Do you think I'll happily set here and be your brood mare?”
Reese shook his head, yet his confusion fast faded in the face of her anger, replaced by a roiling anger of his own. “I expected you to do the responsible thing. You talked about how important this move to the military was for you... what about me? What happens to me when you go and die, when I'm left alone with nothing but memories? I did what I had to do, Alanis. You left me no choice, so I did what I could to prevent your attendance... and if this hadn't worked, I would have found some other way. I love you, and I refuse to let you throw your life away!” It was obvious that she'd taken this the wrong way, but what else could he expect from her?
“You refuse to let me live my life,” Alanis said in a level voice. “I thought it was bad enough that you couldn't support my decision. I thought it was bad enough that you destroyed your own military career to spite my brother. But to lie to my face... to pretend to support me, just to sabotage me from behind?” The raw anguish in her voice seemed to punch Reese right in the gut. “How can I ever trust you again? How can we be married when you would do something like that to me? What kind of person are you that you'd bring a new life into the world in an attempt to shackle me to you?”
Reese felt real panic at those words. “Look, Alanis, I'm sorry that I did it this way, I really am. It was wrong, I shouldn't have done it this way.” I knew I should have just hacked the Academy database and rejected her that way, Reese thought. He'd worried they would notice, particularly if she had Lucius look into it. But he was a better programmer than most, he could have covered his tracks. I should have covered my tracks from accessing her implant, Reese thought, but I thought the news of parenthood would override her disappointment over the Academy. “But think of everything we have shared, think about how our child needs us, needs a mother and a father–”
“No,” Alanis snapped. “Not our child, my child.” She brought her datapad out from her lap. “I typed up an initial report of the hacking of my implant but I hadn't sent it yet. I also made a recording of this conversation. I just sent both to the local branch of the Faraday Investigation Bureau. Along with a notification that I am currently in a domestic dispute with my ex-husband. Oh, that's right, Faraday's contract law is very efficient, I also submitted the paperwork for our divorce and received approval already.”
Reese felt his heart stop. He wanted to open his mouth, to protest, yet he didn't know what to say anymore. She continued speaking in a low, angry voice, “I looked it up, hacking any medical implant is a felony, with a minimal sentence of ten years and a maximum penalty of fifty years. Doing so with the purpose of blackmail or extortion carries additional time, up to fifty years at the judge's discretion. I think a decent prosecutor could make a case for that, how about you?” Alanis's dark eyes bored into him. “But because of what we once shared... I'm giving you fair warning.” She looked down at her datapad, “It informs me that the police will arrive in the next ten minutes. I suppose that if you don't want to spend ten to a hundred years in prison, you should probably leave.”
“Alanis...” Reese hated the whine in his voice. Yet she had just destroyed his life. He'd have to flee Faraday for certain, especially with who her brother was. A warrant for a felony, even from a backwater colony, would show up on any kind of background check. He'd have to change his identity if he wanted to get any kind of decent job somewhere else. For that matter, when Lucius found out...
“Eight minutes, now,” Alanis said, her voice cold. “Better get running Reese.”
For just a moment, a wave of rage washed over him. Reese took an angry step forward and growled, “You showed me no restraint, why shouldn't I do the same? Eight minutes is long enough...”
She pulled a compact pistol from under the counter before he could even finish. “The arrest was me showing restraint, Reese. You don't want to know how close a decision it was between me squeezing this trigger instead of hitting send. But I thought it would be better for my child not to have to know I killed its father.” She glanced at her datapad and looked up again and her eyes were empty and dead of emotion as she stared at him. “Clock's ticking... seven minutes, Reese.”
***
Halcyon Colony
Garris Major System
September 26, 2403
Somewhat unsurprisingly, Stavros Heraklion had the most impressive appearance of the assembled privateer captains. With his bright silver pants and the open gold vest, with chest bared, it was hardly astonishing that was so. Even then, though, there were some who could almost give him a run for his money. Mason maintained his outward relaxation even as he ignored the smirks and leers of various captains. Half this lot are so new at this they don't really deserve the name privateer, he thought, the other half are serious hard cases who even I wouldn't have recruited in my worst times.
He really had a feeling that something wasn't quite right with the situation. On the one hand, there was the professional behavior from Counselor Penwaithe and on the other there was... this.
This was an assemblage of thirty privateer captains for a gathering. Most of the newer ones didn't seem to know exactly what to do, while some of the others seemed bound and determined to posture and establish dominance. Speaking of which, Mason thought wryly as a short, thin man, with slicked back, black hair walked up to him. “You're Stavros, eh?” His voice was light and cultured. He looked, Mason thought suddenly, much like Baron Giovanni if someone were to attempt a spineless caricature of him.
Mason gave him a courtly bow, “Captain Stavros Heraklion. I see my reputation has proceeded me.” He looked the other man over, “And you are?”
He leered with a superior expression, “Captain Damien Walters. And before this is all over, you'll remember that name.” His high voice had the slightest affection of a lisp.
“Well, my friend,” Mason said in a kindly tone, “I'll try to do that, but I'm afraid I'm not very good with names. Who did you say you were again?” That this specimen managed to be a captain around here did not bode well for the planet.
The privateer Captain walked a circle around Mason, “You must have the absolute worst taste in clothing. You do know that those leather pants are absolutely ghastly, don't you?”
Mason gave him a leer of his own, “The ladies seem to love them... or taking them off anyway.”
“You think–”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a high, clear voice spoke from the far end of the room. “Thank you for your patience.” Mason felt some of his tension ease as he recognized the voice. Evidently, the reason for this gathering was politics.
“All of you are signed on as privateers with Halcyon,” Admiral Lucretta Mannetti said, her voice dripping with sincerity. “Which I'm sure provides you with a feeling of righteousness. However, before you get too carried away, I'd like to explain some of the basic rules.”
“Why would we listen to you?” One of the other privateers interrupted. The big man strode forward and the other captains parted around him. “Just a bitty little woman in a low cut uniform.”
“Captain Archambault, I'm speaking for all of us, here. And I marshal far more forces than your pathetic little destroyer, so when I speak, you should chose to listen,” Admiral Mannetti said.
Mason walked close up behind the man as she spoke, in part to get a better view and in part because he saw something of an opportunity.
Captain Archambault grimaced, “Listen, bitch–”
Before the pirate could finish, Mason kicked out the back of his knees and pulled one of his concealed knives and had it to Archambault's throat. “Sorry, for the interruption, my Lady, I think you were going to explain the rules to us?”
The short, dark haired woman gave him a smile, “Indeed.” Mason could tell she had a pistol her hand, concealed behind her body by the tenseness of her frame and the set of her shoulder. She tucked it back behind her in a motion Mason almost didn't catch and then gestured at Mason and his captive. “First off, there is no violence between Captains here. Captain Stavros, I think your patrons will overlook that right now due to the circumstances, but you should let Captain Archambault go. I'm sure he's learned his lesson. We're all in the same alliance. You lot work directly for Halcyon while I work with them as their ally.” As Mason let his captive go, Admiral Mannetti pointed behind her at a figure near the door, “Much like Admiral Collae, here.”
Mason felt his blood go cold. He flicked a glance at the rogue officer, but the other man's dark eyes seemed to see nothing more than his absurd costume. And it's best I don't stand out too much when I'm around him, Mason thought, to give him reason to look past that.
“Now, the other rules are simple,” Admiral Mannetti said. “Most of them are about what you can and can't take and being fair and even with the loot we do take. Share and share alike, gentlemen.” The warmth in her voice leached away with her next words, “However, some rules are more important than others. Myself and Admiral Collae provide coordinates, convoy information, and will direct your attacks. In particular, if you cross us, if you disobey our orders in battle, we will not hesitate to put you down and make an example of you.”
On that cue, Captain Damien Walter swept past Mason and stood before the hulking Captain Archambault. “You have insulted the honor of Lady Kail. I challenge you to a duel.”
The big man grinned down at the diminutive Captain Walters, “I'll break you like a toy.” He took a step forward and Damien took several steps back.
“Well, I'm glad you accepted his challenge,” Admiral Mannetti said as she walked up and put a possessive hand on Damien's shoulder. Looking between the two, Mason didn't doubt that they had planned for this. From the nervous look on the small man's face, he wasn't as sure of the outcome as he'd like, however.
Captain Archambault gave a sneer and his hand went for his holstered gun. Captain Walters was faster, though Mason recognized the sure signs of someone with cybernetic augmentation with his jerky, mechanical draw. He's fast, but poor control, Mason thought. At the short range of three meters, he didn't need to be a marksman. The shot rang out and Captain Archambault toppled to the ground.
“While fighting in the ranks is not permitted, of course, dueling is,” Admiral Mannetti said, her voice sultry, even as she swept her hand down Damien Walter's arm like she were stroking a pet. Given his similarity to Baron Giovanni, that said some interesting things about her psyche, Mason realized..
A cold wind seemed to sweep through the chamber at her words and in the shadows near the door, Mason saw Admiral Collae give a grim smile. So, Mason thought, the purpose of this was to establish that they're the ones in charge, regardless of who handles the goods and payment. That made things look even nastier for the folks of Halcyon.
Still, Mason realized that he had inadvertently stumbled upon the pair's central operation. With both of them present, something here on Halcyon was important enough that Admiral Collae was already maneuvering to betray Admiral Mannetti. Now Mason just had to get to the bottom of it.
His eyes went to the corpse nearby. Well, Mason thought, get to the bottom of it and survive.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
September 26, 2403
Tony frowned as he noticed a glitch in his home network. That was... odd. He wasn't the best programmer, but he could tell when something was wrong when his face was rubbed in it. Right now, since he was trying to program a new simulation for the Baron's sister, the sudden grinding halt that hit the system told him something was wrong.
“Liz, you doing something on the network?” Tony asked.
She looked up from where she sat on the couch, “Just reading a book.”
“Well, the whole system just glitched and now...” he trailed off and then snorted in disgust, “Now it's down. I just lost four hours of work!”
For a moment she looked puzzled as she pulled up the system diagnostics on her datapad. Her eyes went cold a moment later, “We're under attack.”
Tony didn't respond, but he did reach down and pull the sidearm from under his chair. Unlike Lucius, he practiced regularly. Granted, he wasn't as good a shot as Lizmadie, but he hadn't had to shoot anyone when his life was on the line... she had.
Lizmadie already had her pistol out and aimed at the door. They were in the study, which had only the one set of windows and the door deeper into the house. “They cut our outside line,” Lizmadie said.
Doko bit his lip. He had been under fire before, but now it felt different, with his wife's life on the line. He gave her a nod and moved up to the door. “We need to get to the safe room.” That had been the reason they selected this house, even more so than the view, the neighborhood, or even the décor. The house had a windowless room, brick, clearly designed to be a shelter of some kind. Some work had turned it into a hidden safe room... along with a hard-line data connection so they could call for help. Liz has been kidnapped before, Doko thought, we thought it was a good investment then and this proves us right. The problem with being married to royalty was that occasionally someone realized that they might get rich, famous, or political favors by kidnapping them.
Doko slid the door open and popped his head out at waist level. “Clear.”
They had rehearsed movement to the safe room. Tony had his pistol aimed down the hall to the front door while his wife slipped out behind him and moved down the kitchen door. She popped it open, “Clear,” she said.
Doko started to back down the hallway in a crouch. He paused though, as he heard a creak of floorboards in the living room to his right. His pistol trained on the door just as a man in black clothing came through the doorway.
Doko fired twice at his center of mass. The man let out a shout, but he didn't fall. Crap, Tony thought, he's wearing body armor. For a moment, Tony froze, unsure whether he had just fired on a potential rescuer or an enemy.
The man brought his own pistol up and Tony saw the attached suppressor just as the barrel leveled on him. Well, that settles the friend or foe question, he thought absently.
Lizmadie fired from behind him, her shot loud in the confined hall. The man fell to the floor, completely limp, a round, gory hole where his left eye had been. Blood and brains had splattered the landscape painting near the door. “I swear, sometimes your military training is worse than useless,” Lizmadie growled as Tony hurried back down the hall. In the living room he heard shouts and the sound of boots.
They slipped into the kitchen just as muffled shots erupted in the hallway.
Tony covered the door while Lizmadie unhooked the latch and then pulled the refrigerator away from the wall. She swiped her hand over the biometric lock and then tugged the reinforced and armored door to the side. Tony followed her and pulled the refrigerator back into place just as he heard someone kick open the door. He heard the slight click as it locked back into place and then Lizmadie slid the door closed. It clicked shut with the slightest sound and Tony sagged back against the wall. “Thanks, love, I thought I was dead.”
“You were, good thing I always aim for the head,” Lizmadie said. She was already on the console in the corner and she made a terse verbal report even as Tony climbed to his feet and began to pull heavier weapons out of the storage locker near the door. He covered the door, even while he passed Lizmadie her body armor and waited while she briefed the operator. After she finished, he passed her her carbine. Only then did he strap on his own body armor.
“Well,” Tony said. “I think we're going to need to do some remodeling.”
***
UCS Nova Rosnik
Shadow Space
September 26, 2403
Ensign Forrest Perkins grimaced as his console pinged to let him know that he was invited to the Captain's dining event for the evening. That meant he would come off shift and have just under two hours to ensure his uniform was spotless. For that matter, the Baron was aboard ship, and Forrest would bet that the leader of the United Colonies would be there. Forest still wasn't certain how he felt about that.
On the one hand, the Baron was from Nova Roma. He had admitted to serving in the Nova Roma raid on Saragossa. That same raid had gutted the infrastructure of Forrest's homeworld. Forrest had lost his wife and child in the chaos of the aftermath. Part of Forrest wanted to hate him. For that matter, he did have a passionate hatred towards Nova Roma in general as well as the Nova Roma Imperial Fleet who were the United Colonies' notional allies.
Yet... Baron Lucius Giovanni had done much to make amends and to show that he wasn't the self-absorbed, arrogant Nova Roma nobleman of stereotype. He had saved the Faraday colony from the Chxor. He had defeated the Balor. He had saved hundreds of thousands of men and women from the raid on Melcer. Worse, in a way, was his humility and how down to earth he was. He was the military commander of a massive fleet and the political leader of an entire world, yet from what Forrest had heard, he lived in the same apartment building as most of his senior officers. He took the time to meet with individual officers to hear their concerns. He was, of all things, a nice person, which had completely thrown Forrest upon their first encounter. Well, Forrest corrected himself, it threw me when I finally sobered up to realize it.
He and Boris had both drank themselves into a stupor after the Chxor Dreadnought literally shot their mining craft to pieces. It was in the middle of an escape attempt which had somehow turned into a death ride to prevent the Chxor from destroying the prison station and the several hundred thousand slave laborers kept there. So really, when they somehow survived the hit, they hadn't had much else to do besides watch out the view-ports and drink. Boris's rotgut moonshine was potent stuff. Forrest smiled a bit at the memory.
His smile faded as he thought about what had happened afterward. Who would believe that bastard was former military, Forrest thought. He'd left the Centauri Confederation Fleet as a Senior Captain, so when Boris had signed up with the United Colonies they bumped him a few ranks to Commander due to his prior service. Since Boris Kaminsky was basically the only friend or family that Forrest had... well, it hadn't taken much to talk him around to following in his footsteps.
But Boris went to a different ship and Forrest was here aboard the Nova Rosnik with Lieutenant Commander Harper. It wasn't just that the ship's Captain didn't like him... it was the entire culture that seemed off to Forrest. Everyone seemed to have a certain way they did things, almost with no variation. He understood the need for uniformity... but it was almost as if none of the new crew could ever perform a task to their exacting standards.
As a case in point, Forrest's job was to cover down on the navigational officer and run updates on their projected course. Yet when he had noticed some slight inefficiencies and marked them, along with his own corrections, the executive officer had reprimanded him and told him to just confirm their course projections. Forrest had been angry enough that he went to the Captain over that... but Lieutenant Commander Harper's response had been even less forgiving. It wasn't like I uploaded a different course, Forrest thought bitterly, I just logged a more optimal course, one that could have shaved six or more hours off our travel time.
The caution they used in their shadow space calculations surprised him, particularly since the Nova Rosnik was one of the ships that had jumped to shadow in the Third Battle of Faraday to mousetrap the Balor fleet. If anything, Forrest would expect people like that to be willing to chart an aggressive course through shadow space. It wasn't like the navigational computer could spit out anything with even a modicum of risk, he knew.
“Ensign Perkins,” Navigation Tech Haines spoke up, “I'm getting that odd sensor effect again. Could you take a look at it?”
Forrest restrained a groan. Haines was a new-behind-the-ear technician. Everything was new and marvelous to him... but that was a pain to one certain ensign that just wanted to keep his head down for the next few days. “Yes, Haines, I'll look at it.” Really, it was the role of the sensors department to evaluate any contact, but Haines was the type to love digging. For that matter... Forrest shot a glance over at where Lieutenant Chungpoole sat. She was closely related to Captain Chungpoole, the commander of one of the Crusader-class behemoth ships. Whatever his qualifications for command, rumor had it that he was a vindictive bastard where his family was concerned. Even for Captain Harper, she could do no wrong. Which basically meant she didn't do much... if anything at all.
Forrest pulled up the sensor data. He restrained another sigh as he stared at the anomaly. He could see that the sensor tech who'd sent it over to Haines had noticed the anomaly initially. It looked like a ship just on the edge of their sensors, which was basically impossible for shadow space, because unless ships jumped at the same time with the same course, they would almost never encounter one another. For that matter, even when two ships used identical coordinates, course, and departed even minutes apart, they might easily arrive hours apart and never be able to sense one another in the weird electromagnetic environment of shadow. Only when ships jumped in unison with parallel coordinates were they close enough together that they had the same course.
The sensor ghost had been present for too long for it to be another ship that had a similar course. Occasionally a really skilled sensor tech could pick up other ships as they passed in shadow space, but that was rare and it lasted only seconds or maybe minutes. This contact had been steady for the past four hours. Really, the sensor tech who'd passed it on should have sent it to his petty officer first. The petty officer could recalibrate the sensor and that should have corrected the anomaly, Forrest knew.
His eyebrows went up though, when he saw the message traffic and it's chain. The petty officer had recalibrated the sensors... twice. Then he'd gone to the department head, Lieutenant Chungpoole, who had rejected his request that it be upgraded to a sensor contact, which would have required that she bring it up to the Executive Officer. He in turn, would make the call whether to notify the Captain or even to go to battle stations.
The message traffic included a direct order after the petty officer brought it back to Lieutenant Chungpoole the second time. She had told Petty Officer Bussinik not to waste her time or his anymore and expressly forbid him doing anything else with it. He, in turn, had told the tech that he wasn't allowed to look into anymore, but the navigation section might be interested.
Forrest looked over at where Petty Officer Bussinik sat. The Petty Officer met his gaze and gave him a nod. He thinks it's important enough to bring up, Forrest thought, and he's right. Something was up... and Forrest Perkins wasn't going to set on it, not when so many things pointed to something very out of the ordinary. Forrest looked over at the Executive Officer, “Sir, I think you need to take a look at this.”
***
“So,” Lucius said as he studied the faint contact. “Why exactly did it take almost six hours for us to notice this?” Lieutenant Commander Harper had taken a further hour or more to notify Lucius... which irritated him. This mysterious contact had been inside weapons range for the past seven hours, they had no notice of whether it was friend or foe, and they still hadn't gone to battle stations.
Lieutenant Commander Harper flushed and when he spoke, his voice was defensive. “Sir, we wanted to make certain that there was actually something there first.”
“We?” Lucius asked. “From what I understand, your sensor tech has seven hours of data... and you told me you were notified an hour ago. Six hours isn't time spent verifying it as a contact, you could do that in six minutes... or less.” Lucius didn't hide his edge of irritation. “Who noticed this initially?”
Harper cleared his throat. “Uh, Sensor Tech Brendai.”
Lucius nodded and thought a moment until he remembered the name of the head of the sensors and communications department aboard the destroyer, “And when did Lieutenant Chungpoole bring this up to you?”
Harper didn't answer for a moment. When he finally spoke, his face was wooden and he clearly chose each word with care, “Ensign Perkins, of the navigation department notified the Executive Officer approximately four hours after Sensor Tech Brendai picked up the contact.”
Lucius stared at the destroyer's Captain for a long moment, “Why, exactly, did your navigation officer...”
“Assistant Navigational Officer,” Lieutenant Commander Harper interrupted.
“You have an experienced officer acting as the assistant navigational officer?” Lucius asked. It seemed like the more he heard the worse the situation looked. “No, don't answer that, let's go back to why Sensor Tech Brendai sent this to the navigation department four hours afterward. Did he send it to his petty officer? When was Lieutenant Chungpoole notified?”
“Sir,” Lieutenant Commander Harper said, his voice flat, “With all due respect, I will manage this matter, it is my vessel and I know the delicate issues involved.”
Lucius sat back and his eyes narrowed. “Delicate issues? You have an unknown vessel, possibly with a psychic pilot, that has matched your course in shadow space. You've had a serious breakdown in the chain of command. These aren't delicate issues, these are command issues... ones you need to deal with.” Lucius wasn't certain if the captain fully realized the implications of a ship able to match their course in shadow space. Lucius knew that psychic navigators could utilize more dimensions in shadow space. He also knew that rumors said the Shadow Lords pirated ships in shadow space. That implied that they had the ability to match a vessel's course in shadow space.
“I will, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Harper said, his voice barely civil. “But, as yet, this anomaly is still not confirmed as a ship. I feel, since there has been no activity, it is most likely due to exterior damage to the sensors, rather than an actual ship.”
Lucius chose to ignore the other man's tone. “If you're wrong,” Lucius said, “Then most likely it is a ship working for or with one of the Shadow Lords. In which case, should they decide to fire on us, board us, or do anything, really, we're helpless.” The sensor technician had not been able to further refine the data on the contact. But if it was a Shadow Lord's vessel, then they probably had the experience and tools to maintain a better sensors read than the Nova Rosnik could.
The Nova Rosnik didn't mount an ansible. The destroyer was too small to mount the older style ansible system favored by Amalgamated Worlds. They had yet to refit them with the newer versions commonly used by Nova Roma and the Centauri Confederation. We can't fight them, Lucius thought darkly, we can't call for help, and we can't even really defend ourselves.
“Sir, in that unlikely case,” Lieutenant Commander Harper said, “I have full confidence in my vessel and crew to handle the situation.” The Nova Rosnik's Captain stood, “Now, sir, if that is all?”
Lucius bit his tongue on a sharp response. “You're dismissed,” Lucius said, finally. Clearly the officer's priority was elsewhere from the immediate safety and security of his vessel. Lucius first, gut reaction was to immediately relieve him and replace him with someone whose priority was in the right area... except he didn't know how deep the rot went.
Something else gave Lieutenant Commander Harper the confidence to all but spit in Lucius's face. Something else was wrong here, something that had the foul stink of politics.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
September 28, 2403
Princess Lizmadie Doko stood up as the door chimed. She looked over at Tony with a raised eyebrow, but he shrugged. Alicia Nix had attached a team of her agents to protect their house after the attack. Alanis hadn't come by in over a week, though she had commed to say that something had come up. They weren't really expecting anyone, and Tony's isolation had come to feel almost like a different kind of prison. Finally she answered it, “Yes?”
“Ma'am, there's a... Nova Roma gentleman with his escort to see you,” Anderson said. He was the team commander, if Lizmadie remembered correctly.
“Liz, it's me,” she heard her brother's voice and her eyes went wide. She had not expected to hear him, not since his last angry diatribe right before she and Tony had eloped.
“You can send them in,” Lizmadie said. She suddenly felt distant, she had been through enough in the past two days that she didn't really want to fight. Still, best to get it over with, she supposed. As she heard the front door open and a mutter of conversation outside she steeled herself for the coming confrontation. It wouldn't be easy, she knew. She could already foresee his arguments. She had estranged herself, she had disgraced herself with this unauthorized marriage. The hurtful comments were all the worse for the fact that she had thought her younger brother was different from her father and older brother. He, at least, had seen her independence and strong will as being of value... and he had been the one to come find her before she even knew they were related.
Tony came up to put a reassuring arm around her. “We'll face him together,” he said softly. Emperor Romulus IV swept into the room. She straightened, ready for his explosion.
“Thank God you're both alright,” he said. The Nova Roma Emperor rushed over to embrace them both. Lizmadie started to stiffen in response, but instead she found her arms hugging him back.
The young Emperor released them and took a step back. Lizmadie was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “I just heard the news last night. They're keeping the whole thing very quiet... I couldn't even find out if you both were still alive until this morning.”
“We're alive,” Lizmadie said with a crooked smile, “as you can see.”
He nodded, “And I'm grateful. Very grateful.” He looked at Tony and Lizmadie saw the young man straighten. “I... owe you an apology, Captain Doko. I've known about you and Lizmadie's feelings for one another. I also knew my father's opinion on the matter, such as it was, and I didn't want to disgrace his memory. I shouldn't have rejected your offer, like I did. It was rude and I should have known what effect it would have on my sister. Can you forgive me my arrogance and pigheadedness?”
Tony shrugged and Lizmadie could see his discomfort. He hadn't expected an apology. “Your Highness, I...” He also, Lizmadie knew, felt too much respect for the Nova Roma Imperial Family to feel comfortable with such an abject apology. “Could we just forget about all that?”
Emperor Romulus IV smiled, “Of course.” He glanced over his shoulder at the pair of Nova Roma Marines. “These two fine gentlemen are from my new bodyguard. I've got an entire platoon of them.” He looked back at Lizmadie. “If you two would accept it... I'd like to attach a team of them to provide you some additional protection.”
“Uh...” Tony looked both surprised and confused.
Lizmadie smiled though, “Of course, that would be very generous.”
Her half-brother gave her a nod, “It makes me feel a bit better knowing you'll have a full team of Marines handy in case of any other issues.” He all but spat the last. “Do they know who it was, yet? Was it some kind of terrorist group or Chxor sympathizers?”
Lizmadie grimaced, “They have no idea. Not yet. The FIB is keeping what they do know very close to their chests, but our attackers took the body of their man with them. All they have are the bullet holes and some shoe prints, and a bit of their hacking code from when they took down our home network.”
The Emperor looked angry, “That sounds like some kind of professional team.” He shook his head, “Admiral Balventia warned me that the United Colonies is too lax on their internal security, it looks like he was right.”
“We trust our people,” Doko snapped, “That's not being lax, it's avoiding a police state.” The vehemence in his voice belied his own current status of house arrest, which Lizmadie couldn't help but feel bitterness about.
Emperor Romulus IV shrugged, “Either way, if you'll have them, the team of Marines will be here. And if you'll both accept it, I'd like to make that permanent.” He cleared his throat, uncertainly, “I've also withdrawn my earlier order for you to be prosecuted for working for Admiral Mannetti.”
“It took this to change your mind?” Lizmadie said with a level look. She knew her family could be pigheaded, but she was surprised it had taken him this long to see through the obviously false charges.
Her half-brother shrugged, uncomfortably. “It took me some time to separate my personal and professional opinions... and then Baron Giovanni was already off-world. I still believe that there is an informant, but I think it more likely that this was his work, possibly to silence you both or to kidnap you for additional leverage.”
Lizmadie shrugged, “I'm not certain, myself, how I feel about that.” In truth, she thought this informant was some ploy by Admiral Mannetti to sow confusion in their ranks. It seemed too bizarre that someone might have worked under Lucius Giovanni for years, if not decades, and betrayed him. Then again, she thought, he does have certain blind spots where his friends are concerned. It bothered her, but now was neither the time or place to bring that up. “Still, I'm just glad we're both alive and well.”
“Well, I just happen to have brought a bottle of muscato,” Emperor Romulus IV said with a slight smile. “How about we drink to that?”
***
UCS Nova Rosnik
Shadow Space
September 29, 2403
Forrest glanced up at a chime at the hatch. “Come in,” Forest said, surprised that anyone on the destroyer had come to see him. The destroyer wasn't big enough for him to have his own quarters, of course. He shared it with three other junior officers. All three, however, were on day shifts.
Forrest jumped to his feet as the Baron stepped through the hatch. “Uh, good morning, sir.” He felt a bit of panic at his current state of dress. Last time he'd met Baron Giovanni he'd been dead drunk and dressed in slovenly coveralls. Today, again, he was in coveralls, fresh from his night shift, grease stained and dirty.
“Take a seat, Ensign,” the Baron said with a wave. He closed the hatch behind him and gave Forrest an odd look. “I thought you were assigned to navigation?”
“I was,” Forrest said and he couldn't keep a bite of anger from his voice. “I've been reassigned.” Forrest had been told by the XO that for 'causing problems' he was no longer attached to navigation, instead he was attached to engineering as a shift supervisor. Officially, of course, it was a 'broadening' assignment to improve his base of knowledge. But since he'd arrived there, the Engineer had basically ignored him and put him on night shift.
“I see,” the Baron said. Something angry flashed behind his eyes, but Forrest couldn't guess if it was aimed at him or someone else. “I'm here in a purely unofficial fashion... I want to know more about what happened from when this contact initially showed up to when you notified the XO.”
Forrest looked away, “Sir, I'm not sure I should talk about that.”
“Putting aside the issues of chain of command and whatever conversations have gone on about this already,” the Baron said, his voice level, “I want to know because the implications of another vessel intercepting us in shadow space are extremely dangerous.”
Forrest licked his lips. He had been told, in no uncertain terms, not to discuss the incident with anyone else by not just the Executive Officer, but also the Nova Rosnik's Captain. Still, if there was anyone who could override them, it had to be the Baron... but then there's what some of them say about him, Forrest thought darkly. Not that he believed it himself, but he was pretty certain at least some of the officers of the Fleet must or else why would they repeat it? Forrest met the shorter man's dark eyes and finally gave a sigh, “Sir, it all started when Navigation Tech Haines forwarded me a sensor contact.” Forrest ran through the entire event chain, to include the technical details he remembered. He didn't bring up the full hour that it had taken him to convince the XO to notify the Captain... or the dressing down he'd received from both of them.
“Right,” Lucius said. “That's even worse than I'd thought.” He looked down at the deck plates for a long moment. “I'm getting some very odd responses and attitudes here, Ensign. Could you explain some of them?”
Forrest instinctively shook his head. It would be bad enough if they found out he'd told them what had happened with the sensor data. It would be far worse if they thought he was going behind their backs to discuss things they'd said in private.
Yet, when he looked at the Baron, he remembered the ideals that had made him agree to sign up with Boris. In particular, he remembered the importance of taking a stand for the ideas of freedom in the face of the Chxor's tyranny. He remembered how the Baron could have made himself into a warlord, yet he'd encouraged the development of a constitution, instead. “There's discussion, among some officers,” Forrest said, in a low voice. “Especially some of the original Dreyfus Fleet officers... about you, about Admiral Dreyfus...”
The Baron cocked his head, “And?”
Forrest looked away, “Some of it is just rumors, that Admiral Dreyfus commands the military, that you're more a figurehead.” He paused a moment, then admitted, “Some is worse, that Admiral Dreyfus is running things behind the scenes, that he's just waiting to defeat the Chxor before they seize power and restore things to how they used to be... to reinstate Amalgamated Worlds. They say that the United Colonies is just a cover, that soon things will be just like they were before they left.”
“What?” The Baron asked, “That's absurd.”
“There's more,” Forrest said in a low voice, “There's some who have talked about how if Admiral Dreyfus doesn't... then there are officers who will... and they'll take the necessary steps.” The last smacked of either a mutiny or a coup, either of which would be a violation of their oaths. That was bad enough, but the thought of them trying to use the Dreyfus Fleet to restore the defunct Amalgamated Worlds smacked of outright conquest. Amalgamated Worlds had controlled all of human space. The bureaucrats who'd managed it had wielded extreme power and the military under them had done some atrocious things in the name of preserving the peace.
“Really...” the Baron said. Forrest looked up and he saw an iron expression of determination on his face. “We'll have to see about that. Thank you, Ensign.” He turned and left before Forrest could respond.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
October 2, 2403
Lucius leaned forward in the jump seat near the command chair of the Nova Rosnik. They had only minutes until their arrival at the Faraday system. The contact remained, but had shown no activity or interaction. Then again, communications in shadow space was difficult without using an ansible. The odd energies of the realm caused all manner of interference.
Lucius squashed a hopeful idea that Kandergain had returned. While he would like to think she would... this didn't fit with her earlier behavior. She would have come straight to him and she would not have stalked his ship.
Right now his current fear was that the other ship would emerge almost on top of them when they left shadow space. Like most systems, Faraday had established military and civilian zones for shadow space emergence. The the transponders that allowed for rapid identification of friend or foe functioned for both civilian and military vessels. The civilian zone was much further out, to allow for better security and screening besides the automated system. The military zone was closer in, because of challenge and acceptance codes that allowed Faraday's defensive forces to verify identities. The civilian zone was well outside energy weapons range of anything in Faraday orbit, while the military zone had several cleared corridors that ran all the way down into lower orbit to allow for damaged vessels to receive assistance immediately upon arrival.
The Nova Rosnik would emerge within the military zone. Upon their arrival, Lucius knew, the automated systems would challenge their IFF and codes and then clear them... but the mystery ship would emerge close to them... maybe close enough that automated systems couldn't fire and would need authorization from humans. That delay might give this mystery ship long enough to do significant damage before being destroyed.
Lucius didn't know if the Shadow Lords employed suicide attacks like that... but he wasn't willing to discount it. Besides, if they sowed enough confusion, they could withdraw much as Lucius had in the Second Battle of Faraday.
“Emergence,” the navigation officer, Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Michele Zahn said. She paused as the sensors fed her data, “We're on target, within arrival parameters. Barely, Lucius thought, after a glance at the display, a few more percent off and we would have arrived in a restricted zone. It wouldn't matter what codes they had if that happened, the automated defenses would fire regardless.
“Contact!” Petty Officer Bussinik called out. “Energy signature is cruiser sized, less than five hundred kilometers! No transponder and it hasn't answered the challenge codes.”
“What?!” Lieutenant Commander Harper snapped. “That's impossible, Lieutenant Chungpoole, confirm that!”
“We're being hit by targeting sensors, they've got us locked,” Petty Officer Bussinik said, before the Lieutenant could even look up from her display.
“System Control reports targeting sensor hits on the station and the solar array,” Ensign Camilla Wynkoop said, her voice shaky. “They're demanding the identity of the ship that emerged with us, they can't fire on it, it's too close to us...” Her face went pale, “Now they're targeting us.”
Lucius looked over at the Nova Rosnik's Captain. Lieutenant Commander Harper was frozen, mouth open, his face pale. Lucius popped his seat restraints and moved to the communications console, “Give them my identification code and tell them that the enemy ship must have a psychic navigator, that they intercepted our course in shadow space.” The enemy ship still hadn't fired, but that didn't mean much. Any hostile act could provoke it. She gave him a panicked nod, but relayed his message without an issue.
A moment later, she looked up, “Sir, the cruiser is sending a message in the open.”
Lucius looked over at Lieutenant Commander Harper. The Captain of the Nova Rosnik gave a shaky nod, “Thank you, Camila, bring it up on the main display.”
There was no image with the transmission, merely audio, “...for our unconventional arrival. I am a representative of Shadow Lord Imperious and I come with an offer of alliance for Baron Giovanni and the United Colonies. My vessel, the Void Dragon will power down weapons as soon as we receive assurance that we will not be fired upon.” The man who spoke had a calm, smug tone, one that set Lucius's teeth on edge.
Lucius leaned over the communications console. He spoke carefully, “This is Baron Lucius Giovanni, to all ships in system, I'm giving my assurance that the vessel will not be fired upon.” He waited a moment, until he saw the alerts on the displays clear. “You may take direction from System Control for your parking orbit. We'll discuss when you can send your emissary down after that.”
He stepped back from the communications console and gave Ensign Wynkoop a nod, “Let me know if I have any priority messages.” Lucius turned to look at the Nova Rosnik's Captain. “Lieutenant Commander Harper, I'd appreciate it if you got me to the station as soon as possible.” Lucius didn't say anything else as the Lieutenant Commander took charge of the bridge once more. Some part of Lucius wanted to rub the other man's face in his mistake, but Lucius buried that bit without much effort. Lucius worried about the way the man had discounted such an obvious issue until it became a threat to which he couldn't respond.
Lucius worried more about the fact that someone had seen fit to leave the officer in place and the effects of his attitude upon his crew in the long term. He felt, more and more, there were issues with the Fleet, particularly those officers who came from the Dreyfus Fleet. Somehow he had to get to the bottom of that. He now needed to find out what the Shadow Lord's emissary wanted and, just as importantly, find out what had knocked Alanis back on her heels.
To top it off, Lucius didn't know who he could trust. Alicia Nix, his first thought, was out of the military and the head of his civilian investigation agency. Anthony Doko was restricted to his home and couldn't help. Lucius figured that Reese wouldn't help him and he was out of the Fleet already. Admiral Dreyfus was implicated, as were all of his personnel.
Who could he turn to, who had the rank, the position, and most importantly, Lucius's trust?
***
Chapter VIII
Faraday System
United Colonies
October 2, 2403
“So,” Lucius said to Alanis, “You're keeping the baby?”
Alanis gave him a level look, “Of course I am, idiot. I'm not going to murder my unborn child because his father just happens to be an asshole.”
Lucius snorted at that. Alanis still looked strained, but if she was able to summon that level of sarcasm, Lucius hoped that she was improving. “Okay, what's your plan then as far as raising your child? I mean, being a single parent and military service can be mutually exclusive.”
“Well,” Alanis said, her voice dry, “She's going to have this uncle who I figured I could talk into watching her while I'm away. I figure he's pretty responsible, he's, like, the leader of a nation and probably stupidly wealthy.”
Lucius shook his head, “I suppose I should have expected that.” He pursed his lips in thought. “I'd point out that I've fleet duties of my own, but...” he trailed off, hesitant to bring up the issues he'd noticed. Not because he didn't think she could handle it... but because Alanis was a much more direct person than he was. She'd try to tackle those issues head on. Since she'd be starting out at the bottom of the ladder, that kind of thing could be disastrous for her in the long term. Better, he thought, to figure things out himself and not to give her preconceived notions. “Well, I think after this campaign I'm going to need to buckle down and tackle all of my duties.”
“Right,” Alanis rolled her eyes, “I'll believe that when I see it.”
Lucius took a deep breath, “How are you handling... that is, are you alright with how it ended between you and Reese?” He hated to talk this, but he was the only family she had. It was not something he really wanted to discuss, especially because, having just heard what happened, a big part of him wanted to send some Marines to go track Reese down. The knowledge that he could order something like that made it a bit harder to restrain that impulse.
“Of course I'm not 'alright' with this,” Alanis said, her voice harsh. “It's bad enough that Reese did what he did. But that I let him back in, that I trusted him after he showed he couldn't be trusted? That makes me hate myself.” Lucius's mind immediately went back to the Marine option.
“But I'm better, now,” Alanis said. “And I'm getting better, stronger, every day.” Lucius saw her gaze go distant. “And I'll pick myself up and move on, because what else is the alternative?” She shook her head, “And I'm sorry I called you back here, but it all was almost too much for me, just then.”
Lucius felt his shoulder's slump a bit, “I'm sorry that I couldn't be back sooner.”
“It's fine, Lucius,” Alanis laughed. “Honestly, just knowing that my big brother was coming meant more than you know.” Her laughter faded, “And don't you think about sending someone to hunt down Reese, either!”
Lucius coughed, “The idea had passed my mind, but I've managed to restrain it thus far.” Though, of course, he couldn't guarantee that someone else wouldn't take matters into their own hands after the story got out.
“Well, don't bother,” Alanis said. “He caught a freighter headed for the Colonial Republic... I've passed the info on to the Faraday Investigation Bureau, don't worry. But he's gone, at least for now. And, as the felony charges go out, he's going to be either a fugitive or ineligible for most of the jobs he could find. Besides, can you imagine how nervous he must feel, how afraid that someone's going to go after him just to try to get in good with you?” She unknowingly echoed Lucius's own thoughts. “While part of me would rather see him in jail... part of me doesn't even want that on my conscience.”
Lucius's gaze went to the small pistol that she had left on the end of the table. She'd told him that as soon as Reese had left, she'd put it down and not touched it again. Some part of Lucius worried that she'd thought to turn it on herself, but he wouldn't, couldn't, bring that up. For that matter, he was surprised that she owned a pistol. Lucius, while vaguely familiar with the operations of both pistols and rifles, had never really used either on any occasion other than mandatory training. He wasn't certain where Alanis had learned to even use one... though he suddenly thought of Roberto Firnili back on Nova Roma.
That would make sense, Lucius thought, he had few compunctions teaching her everything else about his time in the service. For that matter, Reese had done a stint of duty with the Marines and had been fully trained by them in the use of weapons and ground tactics. From what Lucius understood, he'd used those skills well in the insurgency against the Chxor here on Faraday. He might have taught her... though it would be highly ironic for her to turn that around on him.
“Well,” Alanis said and snapped Lucius out of his musing, “Are you sticking around for a few days or heading right back out to Melcer?” Lucius could hear an edge of uncertainty in her voice and he couldn't blame her.
“No,” Lucius said with a faint smile, “There's some things I need to take care of here, before I head back out to the front. I'm fairly certain that Admiral Dreyfus can handle preparations on his own for the moment.” Actually, Lucius felt more than a little concern about what was going on within the United Colonies Fleet and how much Admiral Dreyfus knew. But for now, Lucius needed to get things moving here at Faraday.
“So, what was the crisis earlier today?” Alanis asked. “I could hear some of the alert sirens going off.”
Lucius sighed, “We've got a visitor, an emissary from Shadow Lord Imperious.”
“Seriously?” Alanis asked. “Why didn't we just blow him out of space?”
Lucius snorted, “It's a little complicated. At this point, I've already vouched for his safety. So I might as well hear him out.” He also still needed to field the envoy from the Shogunate and Kate Bueller had told him that there was an ambassador from the Centauri Confederation to address as well. To top it off, the nascent United Colonies Parliament seemed stalled out. Lastly, he had to decide who he could trust and put them into investigating the rumors and suspicions about the former Amalgamated Worlds personnel.
“What isn't complicated?” Alanis asked. She sighed and shook her head, “I've called the Academy and discussed my options...” She hesitated, “If I put my... if I put the fetus in an incubator then I'd be eligible to attend this year. I could take a temporary leave of absence for the birth. I've contacted the Faraday Birthing Center and they've given me a list of possible clinics who can do the procedure.”
“Okay,” Lucius felt his throat close up a bit. Their mother had carried them both to term and their grandmother had been particularly harsh on the topic of those who had children through incubators. He remembered one of her cutting lectures about it, when she saw yet another young noblewoman having a child that fashion. Lucius himself thought it probably caused an unhealthy detachment between mother and child. Yet, he could understand her desire to go that route, especially considering the circumstances. It would allow her to follow her goals... and it also allowed herself to distance herself from the pregnancy and gave her time to settle her emotional conflicts about Reese.
“Well,” Alanis said, “Thanks for coming by,” she shook her head. “I hope you don't mind if I swing by to see you and Kaylee a bit while you're both here?”
Lucius shook his head, “Of course I don't mind. It'll be good to spend some time with you. And I'm glad that you're doing better. Just let me know if there's anything you need that I can help you with.”
“Of course,” Alanis said. “I won't hesitate to call my big brother if it's something I can't take care of myself.” He didn't miss the sharp bite to her words... or how her eyes went to her pistol. It was probably better for Reese that he hadn't pushed her any further, Lucius thought. Somehow, his little sister had grown up when he wasn't paying attention.
***
Lucius walked up the steps, followed by Lance Corporal Namori and Sergeant Tamori. At the house's porch, there was an interesting interaction. Lucius had to hide a slight smile as the FIB agent, Nova Roma Marine, and two United Colonies Marines all sized one another up. It was rather like several large dogs encountering one another in an unfamiliar setting. All of them seemed uncomfortable, uneasy, and on edge.
“Well,” Lucius said politely, “I'm here to speak with Captain Anthony Doko.”
“Yes, sir,” the FIB agent said. He toggled the intercom and spoke quietly. The Nova Roma Marine Sergeant looked in askance at the two Marines behind him.
“They can wait out here,” Lucius said reassuringly. He heard both Marines behind him groan slightly. There is a team of FIB agents, a team of Nova Roma Marines, and them out here to protect the building, he thought, that should be more than enough.
The FIB agent gestured for Lucius to enter. He did so and noticed the new artwork on the wall near the front door... and the obvious signs of remodeling down the hall where a new window frame and door were. He turned to find Anthony Doko and his wife, Princess Lizmadie seated in the living room. “Hi there,” Lucius said.
“Hi, yourself,” Anthony Doko said and stood to extend his hand, “Thanks for coming by, sir.”
“Tony, you can't understand how relieved I am to hear that you're alright,” Lucius said as he shook hands. “And I assure you... if Alicia Nix wasn't already working hard to find the people responsible, she would be after I talked with her.” He let out a sigh, “I'm just glad you're both alright.” Anthony Doko deserved far more than Lucius had been able to give him. He hadn't realized just how much he normally delegated to the calm, capable man. And between what happened with Reese and losing Tony, Lucius thought, I feel like I have to do everything myself.
“Well,” Princess Lizmadie said, “We're glad to be alright, too.” She frowned, though, and Lucius saw she wanted to say something else.
Before she could speak, Anthony did, “Baron, have they found anything else about our attackers or anything on my case?”
Lucius sighed. He gestured at a chair and took a seat at Anthony's nod. “It's... well, complicated is a good word. There's nothing in Faraday's databases on the attacker you killed. No identification, no records, nothing. From the... material residue, the FIB is certain that he was dead. The bullets and bullet holes are all a match for standard military-grade nine millimeter caseless rounds.” Lucius knew that Alicia Nix didn't want that spread around, but he thought that these two deserved to know that much, at least. “Which suggests military or professional mercenaries.” Lucius wasn't ruling out the chance that some foreign element might seek to kidnap or kill the Emperor's sister and her new husband, possibly to destabilize their alliance.
“What about my case?” Anthony asked, eagerly. “The Emperor said he's dropping his charges. Does that mean I'm free to come back to work?”
Lucius sighed again, “Unfortunately, no. Captain Wu's people are still sifting through the money trails... and Tannis's banking system is not cooperating at all. Without some evidence to prove that she did it on purpose or at least something pointing at someone else, there will be too many questions if we bring you back, just now.” Lucius wished it were otherwise. He needed Anthony Doko right now, especially with his concerns about the Fleet... but if he brought the man back under the current cloud of suspicion, then it might well destroy Doko's career and professional reputation.
Anthony gave him a nod, but Lucius could see the disappointment in his eyes.
“So...” Lucius said. He trailed off as he tried to find some other topic of discussion. His mind continued to focus on both the Fleet, his concerns, and their military operations... all of which were not only topics that he couldn't discuss with his longtime friend, but were topics that he felt would only make Anthony Doko chafe even more at his house arrest.
Anthony smiled a bit in response to Lucius's failed change of topic. “We really only ever talked work or a bit about family, eh, sir?”
Lucius nodded slowly, “Yes.” He realized, once again, that his life had basically become work. He managed to steal a few moments time, here and there, with his daughter Kaylee. Other than that, there was commanding the United Colonies Fleet and trying to be its leader. He looked over at Lizmadie, “You were about to say something, earlier?”
She nodded slowly, “I wasn't really sure how to put this...” She pursed her lips, “Lucius, I think that you need to watch yourself... and I think you need to start worrying about internal security.”
Lucius felt a wooden mask settle on his face. He wasn't sure why she might say something like that, but the way she had put it suggested that she had concerns of her own. “I've got a pair of Marines following me around down here,” Lucius said defensively. Even so, he knew that wasn't the heaviest security. Still, it wasn't like he was the Emperor or anything like that.
“That's a start, but you need to start covering some of your blind spots,” she said. “It's a hard lesson, but trust me, you need to learn it before it burns you,” Princess Lizmadie said. Lucius winced at that. He knew full well the story about how she had trusted a few people in the Nova Roma Court... and how it had led to a scandal which had seen her packed out of the palace and into seclusion. A few words out of context to a former friend, he thought. Still, Lucius took her meaning. He did have blind spots, especially where his friends and family were concerned. Yet the alternative was not to trust people... and he couldn't live like that. He thought about the hell of his childhood and teenage years... and the disgrace of his expulsion from the Nova Roma Military Academy. I had no one to trust, he thought, no one with my back.
He couldn't live like that, yet the alternative seemed to be to leave himself exposed. He would have to work harder to find some middle ground... hopefully without putting his people at risk. He nodded, “Thank you, I'll look into it.” He would have to make time to meet with his government and make sure that they were doing what they were supposed to, as well. I delegated, but I need to check and make sure this is working properly, he thought, I need a system in place.
He turned back to Anthony and felt at a loss for words. What did they have to talk about, without the vast portion of both their lives as an option?
“Well,” Anthony said, “How is Kaylee doing?”
Lucius smiled at the olive branch, “Growing like a weed, rolling over. I swear, she's....”
***
The nice thing about being the head of the government, was that when Lucius wanted to talk with someone, they made time. Lucius could have looked over the Parliament schedule and made time to meet with the various leaders of the forming groups during gaps in their schedule. Instead he'd found when they had one of their various debates scheduled and told them to make time.
Kate Bueller had immediately called and, after she finished laughing, had congratulated him on pissing off all the political parties. She'd then offered to meet with him prior and that was what led to Lucius being seated in one of the government lounges while Max Nguyen, Aaron Dallas, and Kate Bueller tried to explain the murkiness that was the current political system.
Aaron Dallas, still big and tough looking, seemed almost out of place in a simple, conservative suit rather than the ragged coveralls he'd sported for as long as Lucius could remember, “How in depth do you want us to go?” he asked.
“How much do I need to know?” Lucius replied. Things had grown so big, so fast that he felt completely out of touch. The Fleet, the campaign against the Chxor, politics here on Faraday, and his family... each of those deserved a hundred percent of his time. How could he balance them?
“Everything,” Kate Bueller said, her voice sarcastic. “But we don't have time for that. Hell, I don't have time for it, I've been focused on all these new envoys and ambassadors... such as our new friend in orbit.”
“Yes...” Lucius frowned, “Thanks for reminding me. He's been awful patient, I'm sure that will come with a price.” He shook his head, “So who does know everything?”
Max Nguyen laughed, “No one. There's so many political alliances and backroom agreements... it's all the worse for that we don't have political parties yet, mostly just coalitions and temporary alliances.” He shook his head, “I've managed to edge a seat on the economic Cabinet, but we're more behind than the foreign affairs group that Kate runs. There's a lot of money that they want to allocate towards industries... but almost everyone has their own pet projects.” Max snorted, “Mine, of course, being tax breaks to businesses.”
“I'm in far murkier territory,” Aaron Dallas said. “Out on the floor with most of the other members. And I'll tell you, while there are enough folks who want to do things right... well, there's more than a few sharks out there, trying to eat the weak and make themselves stronger.”
“The only area we really see any real formation is when foreign policy is discussed,” Kate Bueller said. “And even then, half of the people talking aren't very coherent about what they really want.” She cleared her throat, “I'm technically not even qualified to meet with envoys and ambassadors, because we haven't had a majority vote to confirm my nomination. It keeps getting held up by those who want the position, but don't have the votes to get it.”
“Okay, so the government isn't formed. This was something I was led to believe would happen relatively quickly,” Lucius said. “And what can I do about it?”
“Let it work itself out,” Max said quickly. “People are just trying to figure out what they stand for... and what their constituents want. If we try to rush them... well, they're likely to hunker down and be more stubborn. We don't want a standoff between the government and its leader.”
Lucius saw both Aaron and Kate nod. “Okay. So this meeting is a bad idea?”
“No,” Kate said. “It's actually a good way to show that, while you're willing to tolerate a bit of feeling things out, you expect them to behave like adults.” She sighed, “Really, a lot of this would be easier without some of the jackals who have slipped in. They're trying to increase the confusion and uncertainty. You getting out in front of them and telling them you care will counteract that, I think.”
“Jackals?” Lucius asked.
“It's a symptom of power,” Aaron said, his voice bitter, “As the saying goes, power corrupts. I, myself, think that it is more that the corruptible are drawn to power.” He shook his head, “The worst of the lot is Julian Newbauer.”
The sour expression on Kate's face confirmed his statement, even if the grunt from Max hadn't. “Okay,” Lucius asked, “Who is Julian Newbauer?”
“He's, currently, the head of your military cabinet and one of the most vocal supporters of the War Party,” Kate said. “He's a sanctimonious prick, who likes encouraging fear in order to work up a frenzy. He's all smiles to your face while he slides the dagger in your back. He's one of the civilians from the Dreyfus Fleet, retired military, very charismatic, old war veteran.” She let out a deep breath, “Frankly, he's a damned nuisance.”
“War Party?” Lucius asked. “We have a War Party?” He wasn't certain how he felt about it. On the one hand, it sounded supportive, on the other... just what would the party stand for after the war with the Chxor was over?
“We do,” Max Nguyen answered. “They're not fully coordinated, yet, and they're really not coherent. Their main platform is what brings most people in, support for the defense of Faraday and the United Colonies.”
“The problem,” Aaron said, “is that they're not just about the defeat of the Chxor. They want other systems to help 'shoulder the burden' of the war... basically, to pay tribute. In particular, any worlds we conquer from the Chxor, but also Colonial Republic worlds, independent colonies, anything and anyone out there. The end-state being, of course, taking the war to any threats. You might be surprised, but most of the deluded idiots think that's what you want.”
Lucius shook his head “That's not exactly what I have planned. Certainly not the outright conquest of other human systems.” Well, he thought, some of the worst systems it might not be a bad thing, but one thing at a time. He had no intention of turning the United Colonies into some mirror image of what the Nova Roma Empire was during it's conquest days. Probably with similar results, Lucius thought.
“Regardless, there's a lot of folks who are afraid and angry,” Kate said. “Their response is to lash out... and people like Newbauer whip them up against a convenient target to get some political power.”
“Okay, so Newbauer is apparently a big player, who else?” Lucius asked.
“Sara Cassin,” Max Nguyen said instantly. “She was one of the leaders of the resistance against the Chxor. She's built up a lot of political favors and she's well established as the leader of what she's calling the Moderates.”
“Moderate, how?” Lucius asked.
“Basically they want the people to be left alone as much as possible,” Aaron Dallas said. “Honestly, I find myself falling in with her group. They're more focused on citizen's rights and limiting the overall reach of the United Colonies government and empowering the local officials.”
“They want an end to the war with the Chxor,” Kate said sharply.
“The Moderates don't have a problem with fighting back against the Chxor... but they're not big on trying to tear down their entire Empire,” Aaron said calmly. “And in case you didn't realize it, we don't have the manpower to hold that many systems.”
Kate flushed, “We might if we managed to pass some kind of budget...”
“Okay,” Lucius interrupted. It bothered him to see that his original advisers, while still loyal to him, had also developed their own ties and political leanings. Or maybe, he thought, they had them all along and they're just now coming to light? Once again, he wondered if he could trust anyone, really. The answer, he felt, was complicated. He could probably trust them to do what they thought was best... maybe even what he wanted, but how could he know if they were doing a good job if he wasn't involved? “Anyone else important enough worth mention?”
The three looked between one another. Finally, Kate spoke up, hesitantly, “The two other parties that are coalescing are the Conservative Party and what I'm calling the Architects. The Conservative Party is primarily made up of Faraday's original colonists. They stand for returning things, as much as possible, back to how they were. They don't have much of an actual loyal base, but some of what they talk about, particularly going back on the defensive and becoming semi-isolationist, has some serious traction among the more fearful representatives.”
Lucius grimaced at that. “Okay, and the Architects.”
“I'm going to list myself and Max, here, among their number,” Kate said. Lucius saw Aaron nod at that. “We're trying to build a nation and I like to think that most of us are thinking through the second and third order effects, possibly to the fourth and fifth order effects, of our actions.” She shrugged, “It's less about what we accomplish now and more about the traditions and behavior we encourage in the long term.”
“That sounds something like social engineering,” Lucius said suspiciously. Amalgamated Worlds had operated on the principles of social engineering. They'd tried to shape what people thought, how they behaved, and that had caused huge sections of earth's society to collapse and had brought the colonies into insurrection that led to the current events.
Kate shook her head, “We're not trying to change people. We're trying to change the behavior of government. Specifically, we're affecting what the people will accept from their government.” She cleared her throat, “To be honest, the way most people are getting along without much government interference is actually a positive benefit.”
Lucius shook his head, “Alright. I'm going to need to do a lot of research.” Hopefully he could manage some, tonight, while he rocked Kaylee to sleep. He wasn't going to miss his father-daughter time, if he could help it.
***
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Lucius said to the assembled parliament. “I'm here to update you on some recent developments. As you know, the Fleet went to seize Melcer from the Chxor over twenty days ago. You've already heard that we took the system and I am happy to announce that we did so without any losses.”
“You may also have heard that we have received an Ambassador from the Centauri Confederation, who appears willing to open up direct communications with our government. What you may not have heard is that we also have an envoy from Shadow Lord Imperious. Both of these individuals are of enough importance that I feel that you should be informed.”
He looked around the assembled men and women. He heard mutters of conversation at his announcement and saw a mixture of worry and confusion on most of their faces. The Shadow Lords were almost mythical, pirates who had looted entire worlds. To hear that one of them had sent an envoy was not something that any of them expected or really knew how to react.
“In the coming days,” Lucius said calmly, “our government will need to deal with such guests. In addition, we have other diplomats and envoys here who wish to make their own offers.” He thought, once again, of the envoy from the Shogunate. One more thing I need to address while I'm here, he thought. “We also need at least some of a framework for our government to function. In that interest, I'd ask that you select a president of parliament, a foreign minister, a minister of commerce, and a minister of war.” Those were the positions he felt they needed at least some leadership. The constitution they had ratified had a dozen more official positions, but he wasn't as concerned with positions such as the Minister of Education at the moment. That kind of thing, he felt, would be better if they took the time to select the absolute best person. Right now he needed people who could speak for their respective areas in both diplomacy and war. Their economy would power both those areas and he needed someone who knew the Faraday and United Colonies economic strengths and weaknesses and could discuss their limits.
“The Centauri Confederation has invited me and other notables to their diplomatic ship tonight for an introductory party,” Lucius managed to keep any sign of distaste off his face and out of his voice. Not that he hated such social events, though he wasn't particularly excited to attend them. No, his distaste was for the chaos and civil war that had shattered the Centauri Confederation and the poverty that many of its citizens lived in, while their political overseers lived lives of pure luxury. “I would like to bring our official government representatives to that event.”
The assembled parliament broke out into immediate discussion at that. Lucius smirked a bit at the furious action his words seemed to have evoked. “Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen.”
***
Given the choice between spending the entire evening with his daughter and meeting the Centauri Confederation's diplomat, Lucius would have gladly foregone the latter. Even so, he was dressed in his best and his daughter was back with Emilee by six, and he met up with Captain Daniel Beeson in the lobby of the military apartment building. The Faraday native looked more than a little uncomfortable in the crisp dress uniform of black and gray. No doubt some of that was from unfamiliarity with the social occasion.
For that matter, Lucius was a bit nervous. Back on Nova Roma, he had attended a number of social events. Unfortunately, his father's treason had made him and his sister into social pariahs. Events like this had gained an unpleasant mental connection. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and smiled at Captain Daniel Beeson, “Ready to go, Daniel?”
“Yes, sir,” the younger man said. He was just as tall as Lucius remembered, but he still hadn't put on much weight since the liberation of Faraday. Stress and the loss of his entire extended family had made him lose most of his spare weight. “Though I'm not sure why you wanted me along.” He sounded a bit irked, but then again, Lucius's secretary had probably contacted him only a few hours ago. Lucius was certain that Daniel Beeson would get over his irritation. For that matter, the competent young man had survived far worse than short notice for a social evening. He'd gone against his father's wishes and signed up with Lucius back when the War Shrike first arrived at Faraday. Then, after their flight from the Chxor task force that seized the system, he had come back to infiltrate the planet and help lead an insurrection against the Chxor. He found out then that his entire family –mother, father, cousins, uncles and aunts– were all executed by the Chxor.
He had survived all that, to rise to command the Desperado-class battleship Peregrine in combat against the Balor. But the Peregrine and Lucius's old vessel, the War Shrike, had both been returned to the Nova Romans.
“I've invited a number of our officers to attend,” Lucius said cordially. “Consider it a broadening experience. The Centauri will have some of their officers present, as well. Meet them, talk a bit, get to know them as people.” It also would give Lucius a moment to broach his own suspicions to Beeson and to get him to look into the rumors that he'd heard from Perkins.
Lucius stepped outside and was surprised to find Sergeant Timorsky standing next to an aircar. “I called for a cab,” Lucius said.
“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Timorsky said. “And Colonel Proscia mentioned you might want someone professional to accompany you aboard the Centauri ship, maybe someone who knows their tactics.”
Lucius pursed his lips. “I hardly think their diplomat will stoop to kidnapping or assassination of a head of state.”
“Well, sir,” the Marine said, “I don't know about that. But it doesn't hurt to have someone who's good in a fight, does it? Besides, Lance Namori and I happened to have the evening free.”
Lucius just shook his head. “Very well. Sometime I'll have to figure out why you and Lance Namori have so much free time.”
“One of life's great mysteries, sir,” Sergeant Timorsky answered with a level voice.
Lucius sighed but he ducked into the back seat of the car, followed by Captain Beeson. He sat back in the comfortable seat and looked forward at Lance Namori. “Lance Corporal, I know that you and Sergeant Timorsky are very close-mouthed, so I would assume this goes without saying... but, what Captain Beeson and I are about to discuss cannot be spread about, am I understood?”
“Absolutely, Baron,” Namori answered. “If anyone asks, you were talking boring stuff about fashion and sports. Couldn't make heads or tails of it, sir.”
“Thanks,” Lucius said. He looked over at Captain Beeson, “Daniel, I'm going to ask you some questions and I want your honest opinion, don't hold back and I want to know everything you know, understood?”
Captain Beeson looked suddenly attentive, “Yes, sir.”
Lucius heard Lance Namori brief Sergeant Timorsky as the aircar took off, headed for the spaceport. “Some rumors have come to me, from various sources. Rumors about reinstating Amalgamated Worlds, rumors about conquering planets with the Dreyfus Fleet. Have you heard similar?”
Captain Beeson looked away. He took a moment to talk, “Yes, sir. Most of it from the same people. Some other stuff as well.”
“What else?” Lucius asked and his eyes narrowed.
Captain Beeson looked down at the floor. “Some nasty rumors, mostly, sir. Rumors that you'd become unhinged... that Admiral Dreyfus was acting in your stead. Some other stuff, like that Kandergain had twisted your mind, made you a puppet. I knew that was a load of crap... but speaking out against that kind of thing draws attention.”
“What kind of attention?” Lucius asked.
Captain Beeson grimaced, “Well, sir, you know we turned over the War Shrike and the Peregrine to the Nova Romans. Well, it didn't feel good to give up my command, but I accepted it. And the word was, as our crew transferred over, that I would step into a new ship as the commander.” He looked up and met Lucius's eyes. “But that didn't happen, sir.”
Lucius nodded, “And I'm sorry for that. You're a damned fine officer, I should have made sure there was a command slot available for you.”
“But there was,” Captain Beeson said. “Only I was told I had to interview for it, that there were other commanders who also were eligible. There was a review board, chaired by Captain Zappala. They asked all kinds of questions, some of them were really odd, and then afterward I heard that Captain Paulos received the Arapahoe.”
“Odd, how?” Lucius asked.
“What I thought about Amalgamated Worlds,” Captain Beeson said, his voice level. “Whose orders I would follow in a crisis. What I thought about rogue nations like the Colonial Republic. You know, odd... unless someone was trying to see who would be loyal. I think they might have let me slide, though, except I asked what any of this had to do with being a United Colonies officer right at the end. After that, Captain Zappala pulled me aside afterward and told me that things would go bad for me if I tried complaining about the board's results.”
Lucius felt his blood go cold. Outright threats and what amounted to a political screening, both going on under his nose. How could he have missed this... and why had his officers not come to him, already? “This is news to me, but it shouldn't be. I can promise you that I will act on it... but I need to know more.”
Captain Beeson sat back. “You want me to investigate, sir?” He sounded both surprised and anxious. Lucius could tell the other man was conflicted. On the one hand, there was loyalty to the United Colonies. On the other was loyalty to the Fleet... yet that same loyalty had not been returned. Lucius could see the thought as it flashed across his face. Some faceless group seemed bent on twisting the Fleet to their own political agenda and in the process they had left Captain Beeson without a command. That same group might well be behind the apparent disgrace of Anthony Doko. Lucius saw determination harden Daniel Beeson's face and he knew for certain that he hadn't misjudged the other man. “What authority and resources will I have?”
“I want this to be as official and above the board as possible... but I need to know how deep the rot goes, so that we can address it,” Lucius said. “First thing, gather together a group of people you trust. I've selected a few that I think are trustworthy, Ensign Perkins will be here tonight and I'll arrange introductions with some of the others. Ideally, a mix of backgrounds so this doesn't seem like some kind of witch-hunt. I want officers and senior enlisted involved. Right now it looks like a small group... but we don't know nearly enough to move.”
“And when the time comes to move?” Captain Beeson asked.
“Then I want to take all of these conspirators at once,” Lucius said sharply. “And even if we aren't certain who is involved at first, I want to take as many as we can, especially the leadership.” Lucius locked eyes with the other man, “You will put together a team that will arrest the leaders of this cabal... no matter how high they rank, am I understood?”
Captain Daniel Beeson met his gaze with confidence. “Absolutely, sir.”
“Good,” Lucius said. “Now, I believe we've arrived at the spaceport.” Lucius nodded at Lance Namori, who had climbed out and opened the door for him. Lucius stepped out and started towards the waiting shuttle, Daniel Beeson and his escort following behind. Now to see what the Centauri Ambassador has to say, he thought.
***
Santa Cruz, Garris Major System
Colonial Republic
October 4, 2403
“Azure squadron, break left!” Garret snapped out. He saw his squadron begin to shift, but too slow.
Fire strobed out from the squadron of fighters that had closed on their flank. The light guns of the Patriot fighters mostly peppered off the armored hulls of the Hammers as the fighters swept past at high speed. Garret bit back a curse though as flashing icons warned him of damage. Main gun is out, he saw, damage to the accelerator coils. That was bad. That meant some of the projectile rounds had punched through the outer hull and deep into his ship. Who knew what other damage they had caused along the way? Still, they could bypass that damage as necessary.
“Heller, get the gun up,” Garret said.
“Ya, working it,” Heller said.
“Vector break,” Garret said over his squadron net. “Shift to evasion pattern three.” His command was met with acknowledgments. The gunboats couldn't duel at close range with the lighter fighters. They'd already loosed their missiles at the enemy destroyers on Commodore Pierce's orders. A larger ship would mount turrets to deal with harassing fighters, but the gunboats' main defense was avoidance. Failing that, they needed support.
“Freedom Squadron, this is Azure Squadron,” Garret said. “We're engaged by enemy fighters, need some support.” Garret forwarded his squadron's coordinates even as he sent evasive maneuvers to his squadron. Lighter fighters could go through evasive patterns without much coordination, though they still tried to plan that into their attacks. The big gunboats, though, had larger drives as well as defense screens. Evasive maneuvers that led to a collision would be disastrous for the big craft.
“Roger, Azure.” A crisp voice said. “We're headed your way.”
Garret heard Heller's voice, “Enemy's coming back around.”
Garret bit back a curse. This damned fight was going on too long and felt too much like a setup. The convoy they were attacking was owned by the Salazar family, which they had expected some security for. However, the two cruisers, four destroyers and two escort carriers that met their ambush was far more firepower than anyone had planned for.
Admiral Mannetti had provided the initial information, Garret knew. She had also given them the initial plan... which had positioned the War Dogs much closer to the convoy than their normal tactics called for. Ostensibly, that was to prevent any of the Salazar family's transports from escaping... but it also meant that they were within weapons range of the defending forces. They had also only brought along one of the Halcyon destroyers and two squadrons of their fighters, who had clamped on the hull of the Warwagon.
At least the Warwagon was holding its own against the enemy capital ships, Garret saw. The ancient dreadnought had hammered two of the destroyers into scrap and had forced the other two to back off. Garret bit back a curse, though, as he saw one of the cruisers had circled around the flank of the old ship. The Warwagon's main vulnerability was it's aft area, where its bulky engines prevented it's turrets from firing.
“Azure squadron,” Garret said, “Target update.” If they went after the cruiser, they would be setting targets when the enemy fighters came back around. If they didn't, the cruiser might cripple or even destroy their flagship. Without the Warwagon, though, the enemy ships would quickly shift targets to the gunboats and the Halcyon crewed destroyer and fighters. Garret uploaded the cruiser as their target. At this range, it wouldn't matter that they only had the standard mass driver rounds rather than the smart ones. That, at least, should allow them to go evasive after they fired.
“Enemy squadron is forty-five seconds out,” Heller said, her voice tight. It was one of those peculiarities of life that she sounded even sexier when she was nervous, Garret noted, not that he'd ever tell her that.
“Roger,” Garret answered. His squadron formed up and indicators came up to show that they had acquired the cruiser. “Engage,” Garret said over his squadron net. He squeezed his trigger and only then saw the alert, the main gun was still down. “Heller, dammit, get the gun up!”
“Working it!” Heller snapped.
He saw the other rounds from his squadron go out. At this range, the impacts were almost instantaneous. Fire blossomed from the side of the cruiser as the heavy rounds punched through its defense screen and smashed through its armor. The enemy cruiser staggered, trailing atmosphere and debris and outgoing fire from it slackened off to a trickle. It was no longer a threat.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Halcyon squadron was en route, his squadron could adjust course so that the friendly squadron could provide them with coverage.
“Gun is up,” Heller called.
“Roger, thanks, we're good,” Garret said. He switched over to his squadron net, “Azure Squadron, come to course–”
“Azure Squadron,” Captain Gizmon snapped, “Break to course seven five three. Enemy destroyer is coming around our flank, you are in our path of fire!”
Garret swore as the destroyer broke around the underside of the Warwagon. He could see it's intent immediately. The destroyer had probably planned to sweep in from the other flank of the dreadnought in time with the cruiser. With the flanking cruiser out of the fight, it was a desperation move, but it might just pay off. With their position, Azure squadron was in the path of fire and that might let the destroyer live long enough to cripple the larger ship.
His squadron was black on ammunition. Their missiles were gone, they didn't have time to come to that vector, not without letting the enemy fighters get in among them where they'd be easy prey. If they stayed where they were they'd be in the crossfire between the destroyer and the dreadnought and they'd be dead anyway.
“Azure Squadron, come to course two seven eight,” Garret snapped. It was an apparent suicide course, diving directly towards the Warwagon. Yet he felt a wash of relief as his pilots followed his command without hesitation.
He swung his Hammer on a different course... head on with the enemy destroyer. “Get me target lock, Heller!” he said.
She began to swear, softly in German as she put together what they were trying to do. A single gunship going head to head with a destroyer wasn't risky, it was suicide. The enemy destroyer seemed to realize the threat instantly and his sensors showed the destroyer was pinging him with active radar. Garret gave a shout of victory as his reticule firmed up and he brought the nose of his Hammer in line with the enemy vessel. He mashed the trigger and the mass driver fired at the same time as alarms sounded that the enemy had them locked on.
His Hammer rocked with three solid shots before a fourth, harder jolt was followed by alarms. At the same time, a pinprick boil of light flared on his screen ahead of him. Guess I get credit for the destroyer, he thought. A moment later his screens and most of his panels went dead.
“Power plant went into emergency shut down,” Heller said. “We have emergency power only.”
“That's fine,” Garret said. “Did the squadron make it?”
“I don't know,” Heller responded. “We killed the destroyer. Freedom squadron was en route, and without the destroyer, the Warwagon was clear to engage the enemy fighters as well.”
Garret nodded, even though she couldn't see. “Do we have radio?”
“Working it,” Heller said.
Garret stared at his blank screens and bit his lip. He was concerned for his squadron. The battle plan, such as it was, had placed them and the War Dogs as a whole at severe risk. The close range engagement had favored the Colonial Republic ships. It was their ideal situation, he knew, to engage larger ships from in close and use swarm tactics to take them down. This smells like a setup, he thought, in which case... well, then the questions I've been asking are probably making people uncomfortable.
Their notional ally had just upped the stakes. Garret bit his lip. He still didn't know what Commodore Pierce had done in response to the information he had already passed on. But one thing he did know... this couldn't go unanswered. Admiral Mannetti wanted the War Dogs out of the picture and this was the most overt way she could do so, short of showing her hand and attacking them herself. It was a clear message: stay out of her business.
Unfortunately, it made Garret that much more eager to get to the bottom of it... as soon as someone picked him up and got him back to Halcyon, at least.
***
“Nice work, Commander,” Commodore Pierce said as Garret stepped onto the cramped bridge of the Warwagon.
“Thanks, sir,” Garret said. He looked around, “How'd we make out?” He'd seen signs of damage on his way, but it looked as if none of the hits had reached the inner areas of the vessel. The low ceiling and bulky consoles showed no signs of damage and the air was clear of the acrid stench of shorted wires and cooked plastic. Thankfully, the old dreadnought had come through, backed by its heavy armor and bulk as much as its weapons.
“Mix of good and bad,” Commodore Pierce said. He sighed, “We lost some people. Ahmad and Jacel from your squadron, some good people here aboard the Warwagon as well.”
“Damn,” Garret said. The loss of Ahmad was bad enough, but Jacel had been with Azure squadron for longer than Garret. He'd joked about retiring, even though everyone knew he spent most of his pay and had almost no savings.
“Still, we would have lost a lot more, if not for your actions,” Commodore Pierce said. “I'm promoting you to Captain.” His gray eyes met Garret's levelly.
Garret felt his throat close up. “Thank you, sir.” He shook his head, “Honestly, sir, I think I'll have to decline, I'd like to stay with my squadron... and with Ahmad gone, we'd be down two pilots.”
“You will stay with Azure... which we're bringing up to a flight,” Commodore Pierce said. “If you thought the convoy's escort was heavier than expected... well, its cargo was more valuable as well. You'll command Azure Flight. I've already got Lieutenant Wall working on acquiring additional Hammers.”
Now that is interesting, Garret thought. Lieutenant Wall was their logistician. Garret remembered that the Commodore had sent him to Tannis to stock up on ammunition, parts, and equipment not long ago... and Garret wondered if he had already planned the expansion when he did so.
“Thank you, sir,” Garret said. He glanced around to see if anyone stood close enough to hear and leaned forward, “Sir, I've been thinking about that information I gave you...”
“Yes,” Commodore Pierce said. “So have I. Come on back to the briefing room and I'll tell you what I envision for your squadron.” The Commodore led the way off the bridge and down a narrow corridor to the briefing room. They had to lever the hatch open and closed behind them, a reminder that much of the Warwagon was old, without the improvements that had become common even on Colonial Republic warships. The Commodore sat at his desk and gestured to a chair. “It looks like Admiral Mannetti doesn't like us digging into her agreement with Halcyon.”
“So it was a setup?” Garret asked angrily. He thought about Ahmad and Jacel, dead because of the betrayal.
“More of a warning, I think,” Commodore Pierce said. He sighed. “You might have heard, Halcyon sent an emissary to Port Klast to recruit additional privateers?” Garret nodded slowly. He had heard. From what Abigail had said, they'd sent Jessica to do the recruiting at Port Klast. “Well, I think that Admiral Mannetti has decided that we're a bit too loyal to our employers to keep us around in the long term. On top of that, she doesn't want anyone digging around in whatever they have at this site in Brokenjaw Mountain.”
Garret nodded slowly, “So what's our play, sir?” Commodore Pierce had decades of experience in mercenary work. He knew the rules of the game far better than Garret and more importantly, Garret trusted the other man to make the right decision... or at least one that would get the fewest people he cared about killed.
“We bulk up your new flight,” Commodore Pierce said. “Also, as you've noticed, we've taken some damage. I think we'll stay close... very close... to Halcyon as we take care of our extensive damage.” The grin he had suggested that it would take some time to conduct repairs. Garret liked that idea. Privateering never appealed much to him. Though they were, in theory, taking from people who could afford it, it seemed to him that didn't much help the merchant crews of the ships they took. If they took up garrison duty over Halcyon, someone else could do that work and Garret would get the opportunity to look into his brother and father's business at Brokenjaw Mountain. And to find out how involved Jessica has become in all this, he thought.
“Yes, sir,” Garret said. “That sounds like a great idea.”
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
October 4, 2403
Lucius stepped into the lounge of the Centauri Cornucopia and restrained a sigh. The forward section of the ship was all viewing ports and provided an exquisite view of space. It was the kind of expensive flourish that he would expect from the Centauri.
Captain Daniel Beeson stepped up next to him and gave a nod at the various other people present, some in civilian attire and others in military uniform. “Who are they, sir?”
Lucius's eyes ranged over the other guests for a moment before he answered. “The ones in the red and blue dress uniforms are the Confederation Fleet officers. The ones in the red and gray dress uniforms are their Fleet Infantry officers. They probably sent a number of representatives to speak at various levels. It's typical in a delegation like this to have a number of them present. Treat most of them as fellow officers, but keep in mind, at least a few of them are professional spies. For that matter, the Centauri's military branches don't trust one another for spit. They'll be watching one another as much as they'll be watching us.”
“So... should we just avoid them?” Captain Beeson asked, uncertainly.
“No,” Lucius said. “Smile, mingle, talk to them about the common things that all military people share. We may be their allies, soon enough... or in a shooting war. Just don't spill any military secrets, accept any favors, or insult any of them and you're good.” He had forgotten that the younger man didn't have experience with this sort of thing. Lucius wasn't the best at it, himself, partly because of his family's history making him a pariah and partly because Nova Roma had been at war so much that they didn't do many diplomatic events in the years leading up to their defeat.
“What about the civilians, sir?”
“They're minor diplomatic functionaries and bureaucrats, I'd imagine,” Lucius said. Probably a few professional spies as well, he thought, but since they probably have this lounge wired for sound and video, I'll not say that aloud. “Advisers for economics, governance, all sorts of things. No real need to seek any of them out, but if they do come to you, be respectful but definitely don't agree to accept or do anything.”
Lucius gave Captain Beeson a final nod, “Enjoy. And don't forget to take notes. We want to learn what we can about these people.”
He turned and walked towards Kate Bueller, who politely broke away from one of the Centauri civilians. “Baron Giovanni, how are you this evening?”
“I am well, Madame Foreign Minister,” Lucius responded with a smile. While most of the positions remained, as yet, unfilled, the Parliament had ratified the appointments of most of the key positions. He shot a glance over at where his new Minister of War stood in discussion with one of the Centauri functionaries. “How are you and the rest of our representation?” Julian Newbauer seemed entirely at ease and, if anything, far too friendly to the other man. Maybe it's nothing, Lucius thought, but combined with the rumors and suspicions about some elements within the Dreyfus Fleet, it makes me uncomfortable.
She seemed to catch his underlying question. “I must admit it is a bit amazing how well some of us are adjusting, particularly to discussion with the Centauri Confederation.” Her voice was level, but there was no hiding the anger in her eyes. She didn't like Newbauer being so chummy with people that had yet to show their hands and Lucius felt certain there would be repercussions for the Minister of War. “President of Parliament Cassin was unable to attend tonight, due to a prior engagement, but she asked me to express her desire to attend.”
“Of course,” Lucius said. Sara Cassin had called earlier in the evening to express her concern about their entire government being present and he had agreed that she, at least, need not attend. With a glance at his Minister of War, he made a mental note to add him to future such events until he felt out the man's ambition. Lucius had no issue with a certain level of ambition... so long as it didn't risk his people. Right at this moment, Lucius wasn't certain where the other man fell, which meant he didn't trust him around the Centauri, especially with his ties back to the Dreyfus Fleet. “Well, what do we know about the Centauri Confederation Ambassador?”
She cocked an eyebrow, as if to ask whether she should speak freely. Lucius gave a shrug in return. “Well, what we know so far is that they haven't told us,” she grimaced. “Which could mean any number of things... few of them good, in my opinion. All of them are political... and as you know, politics in the Centauri Confederation can be murky.”
Lucius gave a grimace of his own. The multiway civil war that continued in the Centauri Confederation had it's roots in inequitable economic opportunities. What that meant was that the oligarchs of various worlds maintained control over the economies of the others. Old economic theorists had predicted the rise of state controlled economic systems as some means of regulating equality... though what that ended up as within the Centauri Confederation was that the men and women who controlled the government controlled most of the money and all of the power. Elysia and it's capital city of Elysium was the official capital, but almost every one of the fifteen major worlds had their own capitals, often with declarations of independence or alliance with other worlds. The last Lucius had heard, the two main factions were represented by the Centauri and Tau Ceti systems, though each of those factions, in turn, had splinter factions, terrorist groups, and even internal uprisings. The Centauri Confederation as a whole still presented a unified front against the Colonial Republic, Nova Roma, and the few independent worlds. It wasn't unheard of for the more powerful factions to unite against raiders or to then return to their bloodshed in the immediate aftermath.
The part that truly annoyed Lucius was that there were effectively no differences between the Centauri Confederation and the Tau Ceti Separatists at this point. While the Centauri officially stood for law and order, they had degenerated into a totalitarian regime backed by a powerful military and undercut by corrupt cronyism and massive super-corporations that owned entire continents, if not worlds. The Tau Ceti, who said they stood for freedom, often backed the worst regimes on their allied worlds, in the name of winning the fight against their enemies. The war had become a thing of economics as much as anything else and the losers in that were the common people who not only had to shoulder the burden of paying for it all... but also gave their lives in the fleets that clashed and the covert operations teams that fought one another on the ground. If any of the reports were even remotely accurate, billions had already died in the constant warfare... and the representatives of each power continued to confidently state that victory, and an end to the war, was at hand.
As of the last that Lucius had heard, Elysia controlled the Centauri system with all three of it's inhabited worlds, Elysia, Greenfall, and Novo Rodina. They also had nominal control over the Kied, Delta Pavonis, Epsilon Indi, and Sigma Draconis systems, though in each of those systems several planets were contested, at best. The Centauri Confederation Ambassador would, of course, claim to speak for President Spiridon and all thirteen systems and forty inhabited planets, to include Sol and Earth. Both sides claimed Earth, but in reality almost no one counted Earth for any value beyond the prestige of controlling it. Earth, having been repeatedly looted and raided, it was more of a consolation prize than anything else at this point.
To openly suggest that the Centauri Confederation didn't control everything they claimed would be taken as an insult, especially if the speaker in question made it sound as if the Centauri Confederation didn't have the right to rule those thirteen systems. The institutional arrogance amongst their elite was something that grated on Lucius. They possessed an almost divine sense of their own superiority, though that seemed backed by little in the way of achievements or merit.
Lucius pushed all that back though and managed a shrug, “Sometimes I wonder if they'll use the terms Byzantine and Centauri synonymously.” If they were being observed, that could be taken as a somewhat backhanded compliment. Though, in fact, Lucius meant it in the sense that the Byzantine Empire had fallen to the barbarians, after their complex web of alliances had collapsed. So too, he felt, was the Centauri Confederation doomed... and for more reason. Only the relative weakness of the Colonial Republic had spared them, thus far. And for all the destruction and death it will bring on their civilians, he thought, they would still be better off with the chance to build something new, assuming said barbarians give them the chance.
“Perhaps,” Kate answered. She looked around, “As I've said, I have a few theories as to the identity. There are a number of their military figures who would be ideal, from their perspective, representatives to us, particularly a few who served under Admiral Dreyfus during Amalgamated Worlds. Granted, their 'peacekeeping' operations they've undertaken has painted most of their ranking military leaders with enough blood that their people won't really feel much good will. This might be part of why they're keeping the identity quiet, so that they won't have a negative response back home.”
Lucius nodded at that. It wasn't unknown for riots, looting, and even insurrection to break out on one of the nominally loyal worlds when this or that war hero – or war criminal, depending on perspective – received some accolade.
“Then too, I've thought it might be one of President Spiridon's immediate family. His daughter, in particular, has been out of the media of late. Some have suggested an assassination they want to keep quiet,” she glanced around as if to suggest that she wanted that rumor overheard and possibly countered. “If that's the case, they probably want to keep the family member's movement quiet, particularly with the numerous attempts on his family over the past few decades.”
Lucius snorted at that. It wasn't really funny, he knew, so much as morbidly ironic. President Spiridon had risen almost meteorically to power four decades previously. In the time since, he and his family had gradually pulled more and more power to his administration, to the point that the elections had become little more than a bad joke. As a result, he was possibly the most hated man in human space, a despot with a worse reputation for ruthlessness than the terrorist Thomas Kaid and with a higher body count than the pirate Tommy King. Such success had, of course, garnered the attention of a host of enemies, some of whom were rumored to be his own family, eager for him to make way for the next generation of despots.
“More likely, however, is that they have someone senior to their government, someone that doesn't want their political opposition to know they're out here, away from where they can take action,” Kate finished.
Lucius raised an eyebrow at that. He hadn't considered it, though that made as much sense as the rest. “That's a possibility, though I would imagine that President Spiridon would make some guarantee of preserving their power base until their return.”
She gave a shrug, as if to say that who knew how far anyone could trust President Spiridon. “In any case, I'm guessing no matter who it is, we should find out shortly.”
Lucius snorted at that. His eyes, though, ranged back to where Lance Namori and Sergeant Timorsky stood, their eyes roving the crowd. Officially there as assistants, they were here to make certain that this remained a diplomatic discussion... and if it didn't, they were charged with protecting him.
Lucius had spared a moment of worry that they might feel some sympathy towards their original home before their departure. Seeing the hard lines on their faces as they stared at the Centauri Confederation elite, he saw that worry was completely unfounded. They hate these men and women, he realized, with the hate of those who have been at the very bottom and scraped for every morsel to survive.
“Baron Giovanni, Madame Minister,” a voice said from behind them. Lucius turned and he vaguely recognized one of Kate's civilian assistants. “I thought you would want to know, but the Centauri Envoy just arranged for a high bandwidth ansible connection back to the Centauri Confederation, set to start in a few minutes. I'm told it would be suitable for a live transmission. I also noticed a Centauri Times media crew is setting up over in the corner.”
Lucius glanced over. He didn't recognize all of the equipment, but he could guess well enough what most of it was for. Whatever stunt the Centauri Confederation planned to pull... they were about to do it. From how they'd kept his people in the dark, he had little doubt it would be a surprise of the unpleasant sort.
Kate spoke up, “Thank you, Anders. Please make sure we have someone watching their feed, if possible.” That was a smart move, Lucius realized. While they would see the same thing as the people here, how that footage was modified or edited could have a profoundly different message to those who would receive it. She turned back to Lucius, “Baron, perhaps–”
Before she could finish, the Centauri Envoy stepped out of one of the side rooms, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending this historic event, which I am certain will lead to the unification of not just our two nations, but hopefully all of human space.” Xinghan said that with a smug tone that set Lucius's teeth on edge. “Baron Giovanni, President Spiridon thanks you for your attendance here tonight and gives his sincere apologies for being unable to attend personally. He does, however, feel that his Ambassador will not only fulfill his duties, but will be welcomed here by the United Colonies government.”
Lucius stepped forward and he noticed that the assembled guests and functionaries had cleared an area. “Thank you for your welcome, Envoy Xinghan. However, I was under the assumption that the Centauri Ambassador would be in attendance?”
“I am here,” a light but commanding voice spoke up from the open hatch behind Lucius. He turned and felt a moment of puzzlement as he stared at the short, dark-haired man in the doorway. His face was familiar, somehow, though Lucius couldn't quite place it. Gray streaked his dark hair and lines creased his face, signs that he had born the weight of responsibility and stress. He stood with a military precision, though he wore a carefully tailored dark suit rather than any type of uniform.
“And who are you?” Lucius couldn't help but ask. He knew it was a setup, somehow, but he wasn't quite sure how.
The Centauri Ambassador gave him a slightly crooked smile, “I am Marius Octavius Giovanni, formerly of the Nova Roma Empire, and now a representative of my home since my exile, the Centauri Confederation.” He nodded to the assembled guests, “I am the father of Lucius Giovanni and the bastard son of Emperor Romulus I... and I am here to talk about healing the wounds between our nations and once again being unified against the many threats our worlds face. I am pleased to announce that the systems of Volaterra and Lavinium, formerly of the Nova Roma Empire, have sworn their allegiance to me and I, in turn, have given my loyalty and service to the Centauri Confederation.”
***
Lucius made it through the initial handshakes and pleasantries in a dazed state. Though he managed to smile for the cameras, inwardly his emotions were a hash too complex for him to sort out. He couldn't say if it was elation or anger that gave a slight tremble to his hands. He didn't know if it was fear or excitement that made his stomach roil. He knew he needed some time to figure out exactly what he felt... and that this surprise had been sprung upon him to prevent exactly that. Upon that realization, he felt much of his emotional uncertainty ease. Regardless of how he felt, he needed to think and to push his emotions to the background. This realm of diplomacy was no different than battle, in that if he allowed his emotions to rule him he would grant victory to his opponents.
Thankfully, after what felt like an eternity, the Centauri Ambassador, who Lucius refused to append a name for the sake of his own sanity, announced that he and Lucius would need privacy to discuss the terms of alliance which President Spiridon had offered.
As they departed the lounge, Kate moved up next to Lucius. “I thought you said your father was executed?” she whispered.
“He was,” Lucius answered. Everyone said he was... everyone except for Admiral Mannetti, whose cryptic statements during her imprisonment now took on multiple meanings. He met Kate's eyes, “I honestly don't know what to believe... which tells me that this whole thing stinks.”
The Centauri Ambassador led them into a boardroom off the main passageway. Like everything else Lucius had seen aboard the Centauri Cornucopia, the room was luxurious to a fault. In particular, the wood paneling looked to be Saragossan Pine, which was rare not only due to the fact that it took six centuries to grow to maturity, but also because the Chxor had seized the system. The beautiful purple and gold hued wood had an almost metallic sheen to it... due to the fact that it absorbed a number of metals as it grew. In addition to it's unique beauty, it acted as an excellent barrier to eavesdropping, both electromagnetic and sonic, Lucius knew. He also knew that he was thinking about that rather than facing the immediate situation as a coping mechanism.
He snorted a bit at his thoughts and faced the man who called himself Marius Giovanni. At close range, the similarity to his own features was unmistakable. Marius stood a bit taller than Lucius, but his body had the same light build. His face was lean, leaner than Lucius's, and his dark eyes had a glint of amusement and a wry twist to his lips. “I'm sorry, Lucius, to spring this upon you as a surprise. I know this all must come as something of a shock to you. Trust me, if I could have contacted you any sooner, I would have... but there were agreements in place and you never seemed far away from the agents of Nova Roma.” He had a tone of absolute bitterness, one which suggested just what he thought about them.
“Surprise?” Lucius asked. He shook his head, “I think this goes beyond surprise, beyond shock, even.” He took a deep breath. Despite the possibility that this was his father... Lucius felt a wall of emotional detachment come down.
“Well, I promise you, I will do my best to do things right by you and your sister, especially now that I am able to act freely,” Marius said. “And with your help, we can finally put things right with the human race, once more...”
“Stop, please,” Lucius said, his voice flat. “You are here as the Ambassador for the Centauri Confederation. As their agent, you have their agenda and, presumably, a message from President Spiridon. Before we get into any philosophical discussions about saving humanity, let's deal with what President Spiridon wants... and why he sent you here to get it.”
“This is not how a son should address his father, regardless of his age!” Xinghan said sharply. His tone either perfectly mimicked shocked outrage or he genuinely felt that way. Lucius couldn't say which way he would bet.
Lucius turned his gaze on the Envoy and the other man took a nervous step backwards. “I will state this once, and once only,” Lucius said, his voice flat. “Regardless of your message here, the theatrics you used out there was pure manipulation, not only of the emotions of billions of people who will see it, but also of my own emotions, in order to push whatever agenda you people have. If there was any sincere desire to reunite me with this man, who claims to be my father... well, it could have been done in private and announced later. You both are complicit in what amounts to emotional blackmail in an attempt to put me off balance for this discussion.”
Lucius took a deep breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kate begin to smile wickedly. She recognized his tone, he knew. “I don't like being blackmailed. I don't like people who claim to be my friends trying to put me off balance.” His gaze went back to the Ambassador, who he refused to think of as his father, especially not until he had some form of proof. “Now, then. State your business here.”
Marius Giovanni's amusement vanished, replaced by an icy expression that mirrored Lucius's own. “Very well, Lucius. As I said, I understand that this may have come as a shock, so I'll not take offense at your attitude. I did bring this upon myself, in a way.” He took a deep breath, “As I stated, Volaterra and Lavinium have both held out against the Chxor advance. When I heard that Nova Roma had fallen, I marshaled what forces I had to come to their aid. As a result, both systems have sworn themselves over to my service. I am firmly allied to the Centauri Confederation and have been President Spiridon's personal guest for the past four decades of my exile. I count him as a close, personal friend and confidant. When I heard of your survival, I made my case to him, and he in turn, began to work towards offering you a similar arrangement to what I have obtained for Volaterra and Lavinium, as well as any other Nova Roma worlds and systems I liberate.”
“Which is what, exactly?” Kate asked. “Satrapy under President-For-Life Spiridon's burgeoning empire?” Lucius heard Envoy Xinghan choke at her words, but something like amusement flashed over Marius's face.
“No,” he answered. “Despite what you may have heard, President Spiridon isn't quite the heartless, power-hungry monster that his enemies have made him out to be.” He shook his head, “Yes, we would be subjects under his new nation, what we have discussed is actually an arrangement similar to what the United Colonies already has in place, whereby planets retain local autonomy but are subject to an overall higher nation.”
“Except they wouldn't have any say in this nation, would they?” Kate demanded.
Marius threw up his hands, “Look, this is the survival of our species we are splitting hairs over. Are things within the Centauri Confederation ideal just now? No. But President Spiridon takes only the actions he must to keep things together. For that matter, under this proposed alliance, you would retain control over the Dreyfus Fleet... which I assume would go a long way in showing not only his true intentions, but also in preventing any type of military takeover from the supposed evil Machiavellian forces at work behind the scenes.” His tone of sarcasm was sharp enough that it could have drawn blood.
“So,” Lucius said, his voice calm. “The carrot is to retain what we already have... At the same time, the Centauri Confederation gains access to a powerful fleet and the moral high ground gained in being the defenders of humanity. I assume this would probably settle a great deal of their political unrest. What's in it for us?”
“Seriously?” Marius asked. “Such cold calculation I did not expect from you. Look, your nation gains access to our technology, to our manpower. Imagine the fleets we could marshal against the Chxor and Balor with a unified Centauri Confederation...”
“Which would require we crush any opposition before we get that kind of backing,” Lucius interrupted. “Which would almost certainly mean a break in our current offensive. That gives the Chxor time to rebuild and refit as well as fortify their current holdings.”
“Look, we can discuss the strategic and tactical benefits at a later date,” Marius said, his own voice calm. “I have the complete offer,” he held up a data chip, “for you and your senior government officials to look over. You can take the time to think it all through and we can discuss alterations if necessary. And before you even ask, I'll make myself available for any type of biological investigation, to include full genetic scans to prove my identity, as well.”
Lucius nodded at that, despite his own reservations. This was a big offer and it deserved consideration rather than being dismissed out of hand. Yet his instincts told him not to trust any of it. He just wished he could trust his instincts as not being emotionally compromised.
“Once that is done, however,” Marius Giovanni said softly, “I would like the opportunity to get to know both you and Alanis... and to get to know my granddaughter.”
Lucius felt his throat close up. He managed a sharp nod. Kate, thankfully, spoke up, “We'll accept the time to look the offer over. Now, if you gentlemen would excuse us, I think that we all have a lot of work to do.”
***
“So...” Lucius said, once all his people had assembled, “how much of what they've said is true?”
He'd called the meeting in the new government building in one of their secure rooms. That meant they could pipe in a feed from Admiral Dreyfus as well. Lucius couldn't tell whether it was paranoia or caution that had caused him to ask Admiral Dreyfus to keep the information from most of his staff until they knew more. Lucius had introduced the new faces, to include Reginald, who he had said was there to provide additional security in regards to psychics.
“Well, what they said about Volaterra and Lavinium matches what we already suspected, to an extent,” Admiral Dreyfus said. “Though it seems highly suspicious that they gave him their allegiance upon his arrival.”
“Even more so with who their commanders were,” Lucius said softly. Duke Balventia was the governor of Volaterra. Admiral Tiburus was the commander of the Nova Roma garrison from the records they had. Neither of them were even remotely likely to have supported Marius Giovanni... quite the opposite in fact.
“There's the possibility that they were in desperate enough straits that they would have accepted help from anyone,” Kate said. “As much as I hate to admit it, that's basically where Faraday was before your arrival... we just didn't realize it.”
“Yes,” Max Nguyen said softly. “But what if he made certain that no one would oppose his triumphant arrival? If he had access to Centauri Confederation assets, then he would have access to some of their special units, like the Centauri Commandos. They have a lot of expertise in assassination and kidnapping.”
“Yes,” Lucius said. “They do.” Those kind of tactics seemed abhorrent to him: killing the leadership of a planet or system to ensure the population would welcome their new savior. He knew it was a common tactic in the Centauri Confederation, though.
“So, it is at least possible that they have Volaterra and Lavinium, what are the effects of that on the Centauri Confederation's internal politics?” President Cassin asked.
“Hard to say,” Kate answered. “Much of their populace are jaded when it comes to their news outlets. Still, once there's confirmation, it will be seen as a huge blow to President Spiridon's opponents. Someone signing on with him voluntarily will be a sign of legitimacy. I'm betting they'll use this to try to turn some Colonial Republic worlds and systems, as well, particularly ones who want access to their technology.”
“It's worse than that,” Lucius said. “Both systems are on the flanks of the Tau Ceti Separatists and their allies. The overall military strength at Volaterra, in particular, will be a threat that will force them to increase their rear area forces.”
“Assuming they have the strength to take away from defending themselves, in any case,” Admiral Dreyfus said. His gaze went off the screen for a moment as he thought, “Baron Giovanni... that brings me to the question I hesitate to ask...”
“Is he really my father?” Lucius said. “I don't know.” He looked over at Alicia Nix. “Have your people had a chance to do the comparisons?”
She pulled out a file and slid it across the table. “Yes, Baron, that's why I was a little late.” She sighed, “I can tell you positively that he matches all records of your father that we can access. Biometrics is a complete match. Genetics, too. He physically appears to be a man of his age and, short of a complete interrogation, which is off the table for obvious reasons, he seems to be who he says he is.”
“Which isn't to say that he is,” Lucius said with frustration.
“There are ways to modify a likely candidate's biometrics, I'm told it's very difficult, but possible,” Alicia said. “But a genetic modification...”
“Is possible,” Lucius said. He sighed, “It's experimental technology, but Nova Roma has dealt with a few such cases, most often with the subjects having been traced back to the Centauri Confederation.”
“Oh,” Alicia said. He could see a sudden dark suspicion behind her eyes, “My people had not heard of that, but we'll begin to look into it.”
“There was a professional thief, by the name of Crowe, who has a certain level of infamy,” Lucius said. “He made use of stolen nanotech, presumably from the Centauri Confederation, to mimic the appearance of people with access to his targets. That's one place to start.”
Alicia nodded, but before she could speak, the doors to the conference room flew open. “I demand that the traitor Marius Giovanni be remanded to my custody!” Emperor Romulus IV shouted.
Lucius looked over at the two Marines who stood uncomfortably behind him. He shook his head at them and they parted to let Admiral Mund and Admiral Balventia follow the Nova Roman Emperor. “Good...” Lucius glanced at the clock and winced at the hour, “...morning, your Highness.”
“If you protect him, regardless of any ties by blood, that makes you a traitor and would...”
“I can't turn him over,” Lucius said calmly. “For that matter, you can't take him, not without setting us all up with a huge diplomatic incident.”
“What do you mean?” Emperor Romulus demanded.
“He's the Centauri Ambassador,” Admiral Mund said softly. “Which means we can't touch him.” It was one of the first things that Lucius had realized, with such an appointment, the man was untouchable, short of a defacto declaration of war against the Centauri Confederation. Hell, Lucius thought, even the Tau Ceti Separatists would probably take that as a declaration of war, ambassadors are supposed to be inviolate.
A look of shock went over the young Emperor's face as he made the connection, “But he said outright that he usurped control of Nova Roma worlds, I cannot let that go unpunished!”
Lucius made mental note that someone among his guests had leaked the news to the Emperor. The news should not have made its way back from the Centauri Confederation, not yet. “We still don't know what is going on at Volaterra and Lavinium,” Lucius said. “For all we know, he's lying.” Though Lucius doubted that the Centauri Confederation would bother to lie about something so easily disproved.
“For that matter, your Highness,” Admiral Mund said, “Both Volaterra and Lavinium have not responded to any of our communications. We cannot assume that they remained loyal.”
“My father would never–” Admiral Balventia began.
“Your father may well be dead,” Admiral Mund said. “And if so, you are not the only one to lose family in this.” He looked to the Emperor. “Regardless of what occurred in those systems, we have to face the facts. Marius Giovanni is untouchable. We also have to remember that our allies, the United Colonies, are the strong partner in our arrangement. We cannot alienate them, your Highness.”
The young Emperor looked away. Correcting him in front of them all was tantamount to a slap in the face. Still, he took it remarkably well, Lucius saw. Emperor Romulus IV straightened, “Very well.” He met Lucius's gaze, “My apologies, Baron. I must say that my emotions go the better of me. It was just such a shock.”
“To me, as well, your Highness,” Lucius responded. He saw surprise on the faces of the three Nova Romans and gave a humorless smile. “The first I knew of the supposed resurrection of my father was when Envoy Xinghan introduced him.”
“Indeed?” Emperor Romulus sounded shocked. “Then they must have done that for some reason...”
“Which is what we are gathered here to discuss,” Alicia Nix said, somewhat acerbically. She clearly disapproved of the presence of a foreign nation's leadership involved in their discussion... and the way they had barged in.
“My apologies, again,” Emperor Romulus said. He shot a glance at Admiral Balventia. “I was led to believe that you were informed of his arrival and that this meeting must therefore be a discussion of how to go about announcing the acceptance of their terms.”
“Quite the contrary,” Kate said. “We're trying to figure out just what is going on and how to best counter it.” She shook her head and pointed at Lucius, “Regardless of what supposed blood ties their Ambassador has to our dear Baron, we aren't about to throw our lot in with the likes of President Spiridon on his say-so. For that matter, something like that would have to make its way through Parliament and I don't see President Cassin signing off on that.”
The Emperor flushed in embarrassment, “Well...”
One of the communications officers stepped up to the door, “Pardon me gentlemen, but there's a message from the Shadow Lord emissary.”
Lucius frowned. In all the excitement, he had entirely forgotten about the mysterious ship and the man aboard who claimed to come from Shadow Lord Imperious. He glanced over at Reginald, who gave a shrug. Lucius nodded, “Well, since we're all here anyway, patch him through.”
“Yes, sir.” He spoke into his com link and a moment later a screen in the room came to life. The man on the screen had short, dark hair and dark eyes. His face looked familiar and after the night's earlier events, Lucius felt his heart sink. Only his face from the neck up was in view.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” a soft, pleasant voice spoke, with just a trace of Nova Roman accent. “I understand that the Centauri Ambassador has sown a bit of confusion... some of which I would like to put to rest.” The image zoomed out to show the short man wore a Nova Roma uniform, complete with a host of decorations and medals. “I am Marius Octavius Giovanni, exiled from Nova Roma for charges of treason... and I am the envoy from Shadow Lord Imperious. The other man here is an impostor.” He smiled, a crooked, humorous smile at the looks of shock on their faces. “I had, thus far, concealed my identity in the hopes to reunite with my son and daughter, and to explain to them the importance of the offer I bring.”
Lucius let out a harsh breath, “Which is what?” He was tired of the emotional impacts. Twice in less than twenty four hours he felt staggered emotionally.
“Which is nothing less than an offer of full alliance, with full access to his allies, resources and connections in return for the same,” this new Marius Giovanni said. “In addition, psychic navigators to help guide your ships, with pinpoint accuracy, to drive out the Chxor and the Balor from human space. I'm certain your earlier experience with the rogue psychic known as Kandergain gives you a volume of reasons to appreciate that.”
His gaze went to the Nova Roma Emperor and his smile became cocky, “All that we would require would be a repudiation of your alliance with the false Nova Roma Emperor and to back my own ascendance to the throne upon the liberation of Nova Roma. And, I can assure you that the forces I can marshal will well exceed his, so you will not be out much of anything.”
“This is absurd!” Admiral Balventia snapped. “This is obviously some sort of collusion between Lucius Giovanni and–”
“Shut your mouth,” Emperor Romulus snapped. Admiral Balventia stared at his leader in shock, but thankfully, he remained silent. Emperor Romulus IV turned his gaze to the envoy of Shadow Lord Imperious and Lucius saw him compose himself. “If you are Marius Giovanni, then you have already proven yourself a traitor. Why should anyone trust you, when you sneak in here and compel an offer of amnesty by force, then make demands with no display other than your appearance?” Lucius bit back a smile at the young man's cold tone. He didn't lack spine, at least, or good sense when he had a moment to think.
Marius Giovanni gave the young man a nod. “Well said, grandnephew. I will graciously offer that a team of United Colonies personnel come aboard and perform whatever tests they feel necessary to prove my identity.” He gave Admiral Mund a nod, “David, good to see you made it out of Nova Roma before it fell. I thought you'd retired.”
Admiral Mund grimaced, “I did... twice.”
“Well, regardless, I think we all know how this will turn out,” Marius said. “Still, I do hope you'll chose the right side this time, David.” His gaze went to Lucius and his dark eyes seemed to soften. “Lucius, I want you to know, this is the soonest that I could make my case to you... and I wanted to do so before you settled on that imposter as your real father. No Giovanni would serve the likes of President Spiridon and his attempt at the rebirth of Amalgamated Worlds.”
“But you would serve the likes of Shadow Lords, instead?” Lucius snapped.
“Imperious is not like the others, son,” Marius said. “He has ravaged his foes, yes, but he seeks to unite humanity under strong leadership, men and women who have unlocked the true potential of humanity and who can guide it into a better future.”
“Yes, well, I think we've heard enough,” Reginald said. “Very nice of you to speak up and make your case.” The man's absurd accent seemed almost comical. “Now, I do so appreciate your candor, but I'm afraid the Baron is a very busy man and I'm certain the next long lost father is due to arrive any minute now.”
Before Lucius could burst out in surprised laughter, the psychic cut the connection. He turned to face Lucius, “You can not trust Imperious... Really, any of the Shadow Lords or their emissaries, but him least among them, I assure you.”
“Wait, who is he?” Admiral Balventia stammered. He took in the psychic's British Imperial uniform, flintlock pistol, and sword. “What kind of absurdity is this?”
Kandergain's henchman gave a graceful bow, “I am Reginald, expert on matters involving things you aren't meant to know, pleased to make your acquaintance.” He turned back to Lucius, “Shadow Lord Imperious is adept at manipulation. He uses non-psychics and psychics alike in his machinations...”
“Look, this is ridiculous,” Admiral Valens Balventia snapped. “I don't know who this madman is, but I do know for a fact that there is no way that Marius Giovanni is working for him or with him! It's against the terms of our agreement!”
“What?” Lucius asked.
“What was that?” Emperor Romulus IV asked, surprised.
Valens Balventia paused and a look of horror went over his face as he saw the many suddenly attentive gazes. “Your Highness, this is a private matter of state, I spoke out of turn...”
“These are our allies,” Emperor Romulus IV said harshly. “Which you remember only when it is inconvenient to them or useful to you. I know about your family and my family's grudges against Baron Giovanni's... I don't care. Whatever this agreement is, and whoever it is between, we need to know. Particularly if it has important information about this supposed Marius Giovanni.”
“Indeed,” Admiral Mund said, his old voice dry. “Particularly if your senior officer doesn't know what you're talking about.”
Valens Balventia's lips pressed in a flat line, “Your Highness, I must insist that this is a state secret, one which, if it got out, could potentially damage the reputation of not just your family, but all of the Nova Roma Empire...”
“Lord Admiral Valens Balventia,” Emperor Romulus IV said, his voice taking on a formal lilt. “I hereby order you, as your sovereign monarch, to disclose any and all details that you know, upon your oath to me.”
Lucius saw the nobleman blanch. The man took a long moment to speak and when he did, he shot Lucius a nervous glance out of the corner of his eye. “It started in 2330. Emperor Romulus I... that is, your great-grandfather, was about to be married...”
“To my great-grandmother, Empress Isabelle, I know,” Emperor Romulus stated flatly. “Get to the important parts.”
“No,” Admiral Balventia said. “Not to Empress Isabelle... to Lady Sera Giovanni. She was already...” He shot a hateful look at Lucius, “that is, she was allegedly pregnant with his child. Discussions of a wedding were underway. It was being kept, mostly, from the public eye because she was a psychic and they were worried that there would be some backlash.”
Lucius felt stunned, yet again. Everything he had heard was that his grandmother was the Emperor's love, yes, but that marriage was never a possibility. His family's ties to the Emperor were unacknowledged, because of an arranged marriage that was necessary to draw the fledgling Nova Roma Empire closer together.
Admiral Balventia took a deep breath and his voice was lower when he spoke, almost as if he felt ashamed. “Then a fleet appeared, on the edge of the system. And another, and a third. Then Emperor Romulus I received emissaries from each. Not one, or two, but three Shadow Lords... Imperious, Lachesis, and Invictus.”
Reginald began to swear, “The only three that you can bargain with and the three you can never trust.”
“They offered Nova Roma immunity, safety from raids in our core systems, protection from the other two Shadow Lord: Sanctus and Gargant,” Admiral Balventia said. “In return, they asked for three things.”
Emperor Romulus had a look of horrified shock on his face. The Shadow Lords were scourges, psychic pirates that looted and enslaved entire worlds. Emperor Romulus I, a heroic figure and his own great-grandfather had apparently not only dealt with them... but made agreements with them.
“They wanted to be able to trade, through intermediaries, in our ports, to sell their looted goods and, in return, to buy parts, equipment and munitions. Since their targets were to be the Centauri Confederation and the Colonial Republic, Emperor Romulus I's advisers convinced him it would be a benefit,” Admiral Balventia said.
“The profits they could make off of the stolen goods, no doubt, had little to do with that,” Alicia Nix said dryly.
Admiral Balventia ignored her comment and continued, “Then, they wanted to trade in technology and weapons. As time went on, they offered a variety of technology, both stolen from Amalgamated Worlds when they looted Earth and also alien technology they had uncovered or stolen themselves,” he cleared his throat, “We often would provide them with ships, often built to their specifications, in trade for the technology to build them.”
Emperor Romulus's face fell, “You're saying that my family has provided the Shadow Lords with ships and weapons for generations?”
Admiral Balventia looked away, “Your Highness, put yourself in their shoes. They had strong ties to Amalgamated Worlds, but without their protection and patronage, Nova Roma was alone amidst a sea of enemies. Remember, our great-grandfather supported Amalgamated Worlds against the Provisional Colonial Republic... right up until the end. He did what he had to do to survive.”
Max Nguyen stood up, “He made an alliance with the people that have murdered and enslaved entire worlds... the men and women who see non-psychics as nothing more than pawns. My older brother died aboard a ship that was taken by Shadow Lords! He didn't die easily, either!”
Lucius stood and put his hand on Max's shoulder, “Max. Let him finish.”
Admiral Balventia looked at the tabletop. “I wasn't there, I don't know all the details....” He looked up and met Lucius's eyes and there was almost a sense of apology there. “The third requirement was that Emperor Romulus I call off his marriage with Lady Giovanni... and that he marry and have children with someone else. Furthermore, it was made absolutely clear that any children he had with her and their descendents, be repudiated and refused any position within the government or any possibility of marriage back into the family.”
“What?” Emperor Romulus IV asked. “You're saying that the only reason that my father and grandfather ruled is because...”
“Because if he didn't accept that last term,” Admiral Balventia said as he continued to meet Lucius's gaze, “All three fleets would smash whatever defenses we could muster and would loot Nova Roma and it's colonies and then scorch every world down to the bedrock.”
That was met with absolute silence.
“So...” Lucius said, softly, “I can see why they accepted those terms.” Given no choice, Lucius wasn't certain he wouldn't have made that same decision and then made the most of it. “But why would my father... that is, why would Marius Giovanni not serve Imperious?”
“Because,” Admiral Mund said softly, “He must have found out about the agreement. That must have been the purpose of his attempt to seize power.” His voice was at once bitter and relieved, bitter at the terrible things that had remained hidden so long and yet relieved to finally know why his close friend had betrayed his Emperor.
“Yes,” Admiral Balventia said. “And... Emperor Romulus III didn't want to have him killed for it, not when he felt so compromised over it all. My family, my father, pleaded that Baron Marius Giovanni be executed, but instead he was exiled... and we have always suspected that he told his son about the agreement.”
“I knew nothing,” Lucius said. He shook his head and looked away, “God, what a mess.” He looked up, “I can't even remember my father's face, but your family hated me because of an agreement that he might have told me about?”
“Well, you are the son of a forsworn traitor,” Admiral Balventia said almost graciously. The bite in his tone said that despite these revelations, he still hated Lucius. That was almost comforting, in a way, though Lucius felt that if he took the time to really think through everything that the Balventia family had taken from him, he may very well might exceed the other man's hate. Probably best that I don't think about that, just now, Lucius thought.
“What about the Shadow Lord attacks at Rasev Beta and Africanus?” Admiral Mund said. “You said the agreement made us immune to their attacks.”
“At the Africanus system, I'm not sure what happened,” Admiral Balventia said. “I wasn't even born yet. My father once mentioned something about an interloper, someone who provoked the attack.” He turned his gaze on Lucius, “At Rasev Beta, I'm told that Admiral Decantus was making a transfer of ships when some of his men realized what was going on and launched an attack.”
Lucius snorted, “I was there. Whatever the cause, it was obvious that neither side was prepared, the War Shrike was positioned to hit their forces from behind, which is about all that turned it around from a complete massacre on both sides.” He didn't mention that he had ordered the attack, rather than Captain Stravatti, who had frozen as soon as the engagement started.
“So,” Emperor Romulus finally said. “This... bears some consideration.”
“I'm afraid it means rather more than that,” Reginald said. “Because you are forgetting one rather crucial bit of information.”
“What?” Lucius asked, surprised.
“The reason the Shadow Lords didn't want an offspring of Lady Giovanni and Emperor Romulus to rule is that their children would have been psychics,” Reginald said, “Which would have potentially made for a haven, someplace that psychics could feel welcome. It would have made Emperor Romulus I's heir a psychic, someone that the Shadow Lords couldn't easily manipulate... someone they would have seen as a threat.”
“But I'm not psychic,” Lucius said.
“No...” Admiral Mund said, his voice thoughtful, “But that doesn't mean your father wasn't.”
***
Lucius staggered into his apartment, emotionally and mentally exhausted, just as the sun was coming up. He stopped, in a sort of dazed surprise, to see his sister seated in his living room.
“Lucius... is it true? Is our father actually alive?” She looked just as emotionally frayed as he felt.
Lucius sighed and collapsed onto the couch across from her. “I'm sorry, Alanis, I should have called you or made some time.” He took a deep breath and then began to relay the events of the past hours. He felt almost incoherent with exhaustion as he began, but by the end of it, as he sipped at a drink she'd poured, he felt a second wind. Not that he would hesitate to stumble to bed when he could, but he at least felt somewhat more capable. He finished relaying the news with, “So... as you can see, we're not really certain.”
She just shook her head at him. “That's... well, I guess that's the best way to put it.” She stared at her own drink and Lucius didn't miss the aroma of alcohol as she sipped at it. “I'm not sure how I feel about this idea that our father wasn't the ambitious bastard that everyone made him out to be.”
“Yes,” Lucius said with a faint smile. “I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around that as well, much less the idea that he may be alive. The revelations of the evening, particularly regarding his 'treason' leave me questioning a lot of what I thought I knew about him. It puts some of the nobility's treatment of us under a different perspective too, that they were afraid of what we might know.”
Alanis shook her head, “Those bastards should have been afraid.”
Lucius's eyebrows went up at the venom in her voice. “Alanis,” he said, “I know they must have made millions in selling the Shadow Lords' loot, but they also acted in the interests of their people, preventing bloodshed with their agreement...”
“No,” Alanis said, her voice flat and angry, “Not millions, billions, with a 'B', Lucius. There were questions that people didn't ask, questions they should have, about how we produced so many consumer goods so cheaply.” Her lips twisted in derision, “Stolen goods, stained with the blood of their previous owners, that those selfish bastards resold for profits. Think about it, the Shadow Lords loot entire worlds, there were always questions asked as to what they did with the things they took... farm equipment, frontier clothing and tools, building materials... all of it sold to the nobility of Nova Roma and then resold at a profit again.”
Lucius winced at that. She was right, though. How many times did that question come up, he realized, only for it to be brushed aside by senior officers, who said the focus should be on how to stop such an attack rather than the attackers goals?
“Then, too, that must have driven our expansion,” Alanis said. She shook her head, “They must have had warehouses full of goods, waiting for markets to sell them. The nobility pushed so hard to expand and then to conquer to gain those markets where they could sell their goods and where no one would ask them where they came from.”
Realization shocked him. Lucius remembered the children, shackled together aboard Lachesis's flagship. Men, women and children taken in by the tens of thousands as slaves, all their worldly goods traded to the Nova Roma Empire for weapons and equipment to conduct still more raids. He felt his stomach roil, he suddenly wanted to be sick.
“No wonder they feared us,” Alanis said. “If even a hint of this kind of conspiracy came out, our own people would have rioted in the streets. This kind of thing is what makes governments fall overnight.”
Lucius nodded slowly. “Yet...” He shook his head, “It still doesn't tell me which of them, if either, is telling the truth.”
“Clearly we can't trust either of them,” Alanis said. “But what bothers me is the implication that not just one or two but three Shadow Lords were working together. I thought that didn't happen. Clearly they were afraid, really afraid, of the potential of Nova Roma under the rule of a psychic.”
Lucius snorted at how quickly she'd come to the realization when it had taken his staff a good portion of the night to come to that same conclusion. “True enough. It is something I'll have to take up with Kandergain sometime. God only knows how different it would be if our father was the Emperor. The one question that came up was whether or not he was a psychic... of which I have no earthly idea.”
“Grandmother was...” Alanis said. “And from what you told me, our great-grandmother was as well. Which suggests that it was at least a possibility. I would have thought that you or I would have shown some sign of it, if that were the case though.”
Lucius shook his head, “I don't know enough about it to make even an educated guess, honestly. It's not like grandmother ever told us much.” The idea seemed absurd, yet on the face of it, psychic abilities were supposed to run in families. They sat in silence, both missed the fierce, independent woman who had raised them. She had never talked much about herself, but her morality and standards had put them both on the right track, Lucius knew.
“So, what tests have you thought up?” Alanis said finally.
“Tests?” Lucius asked.
“To determine which one of them is really our father,” Alanis said.
“They both passed our biometrics and genetic testing,” Lucius said. “I heard back from the team we sent aboard the Void Dragon just before I left the offices. Both are not only a match for Marius Giovanni, but to one another... down to their fingerprints.”
“That is really weird,” Alanis said. She frowned, “Well the one is aboard a Shadow Lord vessel, could he or another psychic be manipulating the equipment or people?”
Lucius shook his head, “Reginald checked the personnel and their equipment. He saw no signs of tampering, psychic or otherwise.”
“Reginald?” Alanis asked with puzzlement.
“Oh, right,” Lucius said. “You haven't met him, yet. He's... well, he's an associate of Kandergain, though he doesn't seem to be able to tell me where she is or what she's doing. He's a psychic, but on a much more limited scale.”
“Huh,” Alanis said. “Couldn't you have him, you know,” she wiggled her fingers at him, “read their minds, find out which one is real?”
Lucius gave a pained grimace, “That's, not, strictly speaking, something you're supposed to do to an Ambassador. I think it's probably grounds for war, actually.” He shrugged, “And if the other one is a psychic, he'll be able to not only sense it, but defend against it.” He shrugged somewhat self-consciously, “I asked.”
“Well, what other tests can we do?” Alanis asked. “I was barely a baby when... when all that happened, so I wouldn't be of any help.”
“I wasn't much older,” Lucius said softly. His father's execution had come three days before his fifth birthday. His mother's suicide had happened barely three weeks later. “My memories of him are vague, at best. Admiral Mund was his close friend, but with how much time has passed, he doesn't feel confident in telling a well-coached liar from the truth. For that matter, he clearly wasn't trusted enough for Marius to tell him in full about the conspiracy with the Shadow Lords.”
“Which makes me wonder how close of friends they really were,” Alanis said. “I don't know about you, but if I had some potentially government-shattering information, I would probably go to my friends and family to at least see what they thought I should do.”
“But our father didn't, apparently, tell our mother anything,” Lucius said. The shock on their mother's face when she heard the news was ingrained on his memory, as was the sadness and depression that followed. “So, we don't know that he would have gone to a close friend.”
“But he led the officers of his ships against their new monarch,” Alanis said. “So he at least trusted them.”
“He got all of them killed,” Lucius grimaced. “For that matter, his enlisted men were only spared because he surrendered at the end to spare them. Supposedly all of the officers were executed along with him.”
“This is giving me a headache,” Alanis said. “It's like we're trying to piece together a puzzle, but all we have is vague word of mouth as to what it is supposed to look like from people who are already dead.”
“And we don't even have all the pieces,” Lucius said.
“Well,” Alanis said cheerfully, “I've got a medical appointment in around three hours, and after that I have to report to the Academy for in-processing. So I'm going to get some sleep. It sounds like you have your work cut out for you.” She stood up and dusted off her hands, as if satisfied the task was in good hands.
Lucius grimaced, “Thanks... and good luck.” Having heard about the brutal schedule that Colonel Proscia had for his cadets, Lucius wasn't sure which of them would have a harder time.
“Well, if you wanted an easy job,” Alanis said with a smile, “you probably shouldn't have taken on the task of saving humanity.”
Lucius sighed, “You know, I've got a war to plan, a daughter to raise, a fifty-year-old conspiracy to unravel, and a government to run. I'm swamped.”
Alanis gave him a solemn nod, “Lucius... get some rest. If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything.” She managed to reach the door before he could find anything appropriate to throw at her. I introduced her to that movie, Lucius thought with irritation, not fair of her to use it against me.
***
Chapter IX
Halcyon Colony
Garris Major System
October 6, 2403
Lauren looked up as Kandergain stuck her head in. “You don't knock?” Lauren asked, somewhat irritated as she lowered her weapon. She had thought she'd locked the door and put it on privacy mode. No one other than 'Captain Stavros' should have been able to bypass that and then only in an emergency.
“Sorry,” Kandergain said. She had a solemn look on her face that made Lauren reach for her body armor and jacket. Kandergain caught the movement and gave a grim smile. “I was wondering if you could give me a hand.”
Lauren grimaced, but she didn't stop putting on her body armor. “Is this related to...” she hesitated and then finished lamely, “...our business here?”
“Sort of,” Kandergain smiled. “Though I haven't checked with Captain Stavros, I think he'd approve. I don't want to involve him directly, though, in case any of this gets back. He can escape any blame in case it goes bad.” Despite her light tone, Lauren felt her eye twitch. 'Going bad' sounded extremely ominous, especially given how dangerous Mason had said the psychic was.
“Right,” Lauren said. She pulled her jacket on over her armor and gave the other woman a nod, “Shuttle available?” She pulled a bulky rucksack from under her bunk and lifted it over her shoulder. It clinked, reassuringly, with the sound of weapons and ammunition.
“I... acquired one for this job,” Kandergain said. “It's at the starboard airlock, should be unobserved.”
Lauren's eyes went wide. It shouldn't be possible for her to have gone planet side and acquired a shuttle and brought it back and docked it to the Kraken. For one thing, their combat shuttle was locked down, only Mason knew the command codes for it, and their cargo shuttle was down for maintenance. For another, the personnel manning the sensors should have alerted the entire vessel if someone tried to dock with them. And last, Mason and Lauren had locked down all the airlocks, which had odd docking mechanisms anyway and needed either a special connection or some kind of jury-rigged connection. For that matter, someone down on Halcyon Traffic Control should have said something.
Lauren didn't speak about the impossibility of the other woman not only getting planet-side to get a shuttle, bringing it back unnoticed, and docking with an airlock of unusual make. She just gave her a nod and followed her out.
They didn't run into anyone on their way through the Kraken's corridors. At the airlock, Kandergain toggled open the hatch, despite the red icon on it. Inside, Lauren saw that the outer hatch was open to the interior of a shuttle. Some kind of expanded foam sealed off the connection to the hull. The tiny flight compartment suggested it wasn't a cargo or even a combat shuttle. Lauren climbed into the copilot seat and saw Kandergain power the shuttle up, even as she sealed the outer hatches. “We should be secure here,” Kandergain said.
“What is this?” Lauren asked as she figured out the controls and systems. From what she could tell, the craft was tiny, far smaller that she had expected.
“It's a shisha courier shuttle. The Shogunate produces them for military and executive use, you can find a few of them throughout human space. The owner is from here on Halcyon and it shouldn't be reported missing.” The light way she said it suggested the owner wasn't going to be reporting much of anything. “I'm masking our presence on sensors, so the light size makes it a bit easier.”
“Okay...” Lauren said. She glanced out the view-port as they flashed past the hull of the Kraken. The angular, menacing ship seemed to watch them disapprovingly as they departed. “So what's going on?”
Kandergain was silent for a long moment and Lauren began to wonder if she had even heard the question. When she finally spoke, her voice was tight, “There's a psychic here, working with Admiral Collae. I thought at first that she wasn't here, but I finally got a break earlier that let me find out where she would be. We've got a thirty minute window when I can corner her.”
“Isn't this going to give away Mason's identity?” Lauren asked.
Kandergain snorted, “Not unless this goes very wrong. Our target works with Admiral Collae, not for him. She's going to want to keep this as quiet as possible, even if she gets away. Also, she shouldn't have any way to track us back to our ship. For that matter, with how secretive she is, if she goes missing for a few weeks or even months, Admiral Collae won't be certain why.”
“So who is the target... and why do you need me?” Lauren asked.
Kandergain looked over and gave Lauren a smile, just as they swept close past the bulk of a freighter. Lauren's fingers dug into the padding of her chair's armrests as the ship flashed past. “Glad you don't have a problem.” She sighed, “Mistress Blanc has a crew, her senior personnel are mercenaries, purely there for the profits. She's got a lot of physical muscle to back her... and a lot of them are thralls.” At Lauren's blank look, she explained further, “Take a person, wipe their personality, their emotions, everything that makes them human... turn them into a meat puppet.”
Lauren shuddered at that. “Okay, so how many of them will she have?”
“She can control as many as ten at a time directly and she can give fifty or so general commands... like shoot anything that moves.” Kandergain grimaced. “On top of that, she'll have a team of bodyguards, probably in armor, who have their own drive and initiative. They're minor psychics, still very dangerous. Leave them to me, but you can take one of them down with a bullet if it comes to that.
“Ten to fifty thralls?” Lauren asked uncertainly. She could handle a few people, but fifty sounded a little out of her league.
“You'll do fine. Don't hesitate, by the way, to kill them. They're not human anymore,” Kandergain said, her voice sad. Lauren gave her a level look that was wasted since Kandergain seemed entirely focused on flight and doing whatever psychic abilities kept them concealed. Lauren didn't think she would hesitate to kill anyone. She'd killed the Roirdan boy, hadn't she? Not that I liked it, she thought, but I had to, or else Mason would be in danger.
Kandergain brought the small craft down over the town and settled it on a private cargo landing pad near a section of warehouses in New Telluride, the Halcyon capital. New Telluride, like most of Halcyon's cities, was nestled in the rugged peaks of the planet's single continent. In a city where flat ground was expensive, the warehouses were all built into the slopes of the mountainside, many of them looked to extend inwards, carved into the living rock. Lauren had found it an interesting design. Granted, her perspective was militarily oriented and she figured they'd make good bunkers for people to shelter in if the planet came under attack. They also would be good spots to mount weapons, especially given the heavy rail system designed to feed them. It would be easy enough to mount missile and even light energy or projectile weapons on rail cars and wheel them out to fire in surprise.
Kandergain popped the seal on the small airlock hatch and led the way out and then down the platform towards a section of warehouses. “We don't have much time, I understand she'll be finishing her business here soon and then headed for her vehicles.”
“What business here?” Lauren asked, even as she scanned the area for signs of ambush. The disparate heights and long sight lines made her nervous. A few trained snipers would make the area a killing ground.
“Some of equipment transfer for Admiral Collae,” Kandergain said, just as she led the way into a long, narrow set of stairs which led down to the next level of warehouses. “I'm not sure of the details.”
As they went down the long set of stairs, Lauren felt increasingly nervous. The area was quiet, too quiet even for a warehouse district. She could see Kandergain had noticed it too. There was no sound of distant machinery or traffic. It was like the entire area was empty of human life. Most of the lights were out, too, other than a tiny pool of light at the bottom of the stairs.
As she thought that, four men stepped out to block the stairs ahead of them, all with weapons in hand. They wore gray body armor complete with full helmets. A glance behind showed a half dozen at the top of the stairs.
A woman, dressed in a gray business suit with a gray overcoat stepped into the pool of light at the bottom of the stairs. “Kandergain,” she said, “good to see you are predictably obsessed, as always.”
Kandergain shook her head, “Nice to see you're still dressing so sharply. I take it my informant was one of your people?”
“He works for Collae,” Mistress Blanc said. Lauren's eyes narrowed as she heard the soft sounds of footsteps on either side above them. Clearly the woman had more forces moving into place. “Though, I must say, your dedication is admirable, I do find it troublesome when you show up places you shouldn't. Who tipped you off about our operation here?” Lauren shifted slightly and saw all ten of the men instantly move, their weapons raised. They moved with the kind of synchronization that Lauren had only seen in bad action holovids.
Mistress Blanc gave a slight sigh, “Tell your pet that I will not hesitate to kill you both if I even think you're about to do anything.”
Kandergain put a restraining hand on Lauren's shoulder. “Relax.” Her light tone was belied by her eye flick at Mistress Blanc. They're the thralls she told me about, Lauren realized. That meant that they would act entirely on the psychic's commands... and if she thought Lauren was a threat, they would kill her without the slightest hesitation.
But that meant that, unlike normal people, they probably couldn't reason out a threat on their own. Lauren imagined splitting ones attention between ten people meant that the psychic might miss some details from their senses. Without any apparent movement, Lauren's left hand, still behind her, shifted slowly down to the pouch on her belt.
“So,” Kandergain said, “you didn't realize I was here until your informant tipped you off. That tells me something, at least.” She grinned and the slight squeeze on Lauren's shoulder suggested the psychic hadn't missed her intention. “Which brings us back to the question of exactly what you are doing here.”
“I've made it something of a professional habit to have people paid to tip me off if a tall blonde woman comes around asking for me,” Mistress Blanc said. “You might look into using a disguise sometime... or maybe even modifying yourself to be somewhat less memorable.”
“While I'm at it, I could just wipe myself out of people's memories, like you,” Kandergain said sharply.
Mistress Blanc gave a slight smile, “Touche.” She sighed, “Well, if you won't tell me freely, I suppose we'll just need to settle our business here.”
Lauren had finally worked the small, rubber-coated ball out of the pouch and she dropped it. In the dark, the black ball was almost invisible. It bounced down the steps, faster than she had expected. As it spun through the gap between the thralls, Lauren spun, dragging Kandergain with her to the side.
She heard Mistress Blanc start to speak, “Kill–”
There was a sharp pop and then a harsh hiss as the incendiary flash grenade ignited. Even with her eyes closed, the light was painful. Lauren heard a harsh scream from Mistress Blanc. Kandergain grabbed her around the waist and suddenly a force picked them up and threw them.
Lauren let out a surprised shout, which trailed off into embarrassment as she opened her eyes to find that Kandergain had dropped them onto the rooftop above the stairs. A glance over showed a pair of thralls frozen motionless in the harsh light. Lauren didn't wait for them to receive orders, she put a burst from her silenced submachine gun into each of them. A sharp grunt caused her to turn. Kandergain smiled as two thralls pitched off the roof, arms flailing.
Lauren wasn't sure what bothered her more: the fact that neither of them screamed as they fell or that she didn't care that one of them looked like a younger version of Cal Roirdan. Not the time to lose it, she thought sharply. Kandergain broke into a run and Lauren followed. The top of this warehouse led back towards the shuttle pad, but Kandergain was headed towards the next warehouse over, rather than back the way they'd come. No sooner had they reached the low wall between the warehouse roofs than there was a sharp concussion.
A glance over her shoulder showed that the shuttle was gone and an ionized trail through the air suggested some kind of heavy energy or kinetic weapon. Bits of debris began to rain down. So much for the shuttle, she thought. “What now?” Lauren asked.
Kandergain stayed low as her gaze swept the area. “Your little distraction caught her off guard, but if she's willing to destroy the shuttle, that means that she really can't afford me wandering around here. Which means whatever your boyfriend stumbled upon is absolutely vital to both her and Admiral Collae.”
Lauren felt her face flush, “He's not my–”
Gunfire cracked overhead. Lauren went low and returned fire without thought. Two of the thralls firing went down. A large crate flew over to bowl into the other three, tossing them like rag-dolls. Lauren rolled over the side of the warehouse as she saw more of the thralls climb into sight, weapons already firing. She gave a pained grunt as she landed hard on her back. Her duffel bag landed on her chest and the air wooshed out of her lungs. Kandergain landed lightly on her feet next to Lauren and offered her a hand up. Lauren slung her duffel over her back and winced as her back and ribs complained.
“We have to go,” Kandergain said. “She thought she had the upper hand, but she won't hesitate to call in support.” They moved quickly down the stairs, then Kandergain kicked in a warehouse door and they started into the dim space beyond.
“Support, like more thralls?” Lauren asked.
“Support like fire from her warship,” Kandergain said. “She'll try to pin us down, overwhelm us, and then hit us with something we can't dodge or hide from.”
“Seriously?” Lauren demanded. She frowned, “We could have Mason fire on her ship.”
“That would give him away,” Kandergain said. “Besides, a nasty fight in low orbit would get a lot of innocent bystanders killed.”
Lauren grimaced, “I hate not being the bad guys, sometimes.”
They jogged ahead and wove through the crates in the warehouse, to another set of doors. “What's the plan, then?” Lauren asked. She also hated not knowing what to do. If this were some kind of operation for the Baron, she would have just gone after the person calling the shots. Decapitate the snake and it would be no threat.
“Evade,” Kandergain said. She glanced through the narrow window on the door and then unlocked it and pulled it open. She glanced back at Lauren, “The really dangerous part is that she's screening her people from my senses, so we have to keep an eye out.”
“Seriously?” Lauren asked irately as they stepped into the next alleyway. This one seemed to run on this level, rather than up or down. They broke into a jog and the heavy duffel on her back seemed to measurably increase in weight. Lauren had heard all kinds of rumors about how powerful the psychic was, back when she worked for Captain Nix. That she seemed unable to sense threats from this mercenary seemed a little absurd.
“Mistress Blanc is a specialist,” Kandergain said, obviously irritated. “She's very good at stealth and concealment. Opposite side of the coin is her senses, also very good. That ties into psychic navigation.”
“And you're just okay at a lot of stuff?” Lauren asked.
Kandergain turned, her face flushed, “Look...” She trailed off and her face took on a concentrated look. There was a sharp scream behind Lauren and she turned in time to see a man explode in gore. Okay, Lauren thought, maybe I should lay off the sarcasm a bit.
“I'm good at a lot of things... just I'm trying to conceal our presence from her and her psychic henchmen while she hides her people from us... she's got a slight edge on stealth and she's got backup.”
Lauren ducked low around Kandergain and opened up on the men who had rounded the corner behind the psychic. The first pair went down with the suddenness of dead men, but they were followed by others and they began to return fire. “We need an exit!”
There was a sharp crunch behind her and Lauren heard a number of wet thuds, which sounded remarkably like bodies being slammed into the hard stone walls. “Not an option back here,” Kandergain called out.
Lauren dropped another of the thralls ahead of her, then grunted as a round punched into her body armor just over her ribs. I'm really going to be sore, she thought absently, assuming I live that long. She switched over to fully automatic and emptied the rest of her magazine. Mindless or no, that at least slowed the thralls while their controller figured out a response. Lauren let the sub-gun drop and her friction sling swung it down to dangle from her harness, even as she pulled a pair of grenades from her front pouches, “Fire in the hole!” she called out as she tossed them forward.
She ducked down, flat on her face against the stone just as they detonated. The sharp concussion was close enough that it made her insides ripple in a sick fashion. She pushed herself to her feet and glanced over at Kandergain, who shook her head dazedly. “Nice work,” the psychic said.
Lauren led the way ahead, reloading as she went. The two plasma grenades had incinerated the unarmored thralls and scorched the meat off their bones. The smell was horrid, a mix of burned pork and an almost cloying sweetness, like a barbeque gone horribly wrong. Kandergain paused at the turning and licked her lips. “I don't think she expected us to escalate that much.”
In the distance, Lauren heard sirens begin to wail. She wasn't certain why the destruction of the shuttle hadn't brought some kind of response sooner. “Well, what did the bitch expect?” Lauren asked. The bit about calling her a pet still irritated her.
“It's a war of shadows that we fight,” Kandergain said. “Normally their side is the ones to use high explosives.” She led the way to the right, down towards the next level.
“Plasma grenades aren't high explosives,” Lauren said. She pulled out a block of explosive as they jogged and shook it at the psychic, “This is high explosives. Let me get close enough to Mistress Blanc's car or shuttle and I'll show her the difference.”
“I'll keep that in mind in the future,” Kandergain said dryly. Lauren wheezed a bit under the weight of her duffel and felt a spurt of bitterness that the other woman didn't seem to be even out of breath. They ran for several more minutes until the stairs opened out on a flat stretch. Kandergain paused in the shadows at the base of the stairs.
Lauren bit back a curse as she remembered her combat goggles. She pulled them down and then smiled as the thermals and low light amplifiers turned the dimness into daylight. She also bit back a curse as she saw three figures only a dozen feet away, already bringing up their rifles, “Down!” Lauren tackled Kandergain from behind as they opened fire. She grunted as at least a pair of rounds punched the back of her armor. She returned fire from the ground and two of the three dropped, while the third pulled out a grenade of his own.
Before Lauren could take the shot, there was a sound like tearing cloth and the man's arm ripped off. On her thermals, Lauren saw the arm fly off towards the fence. The thrall brought his other arm up in an attempt to fire, but Kandergain ripped his head off before he could finish the action. The blood glowed bright on Lauren's thermals for a moment before it began to cool. Kandergain grunted underneath Lauren, “You can get off, now.”
Lauren did another visual sweep of the area and then stood, “You're welcome.”
Kandergain rubbed at her back and scowled a bit, “Not that I'm ungrateful... but did you have to bring that much equipment?” Clearly the tackle had bruised the psychic a bit. Serves her right, Lauren thought, even as she shrugged her shoulders under the heavy duffel.
“Shouldn't we be going?” Lauren asked.
Kandergain shook her head, “There'll be a psychic nearby. Not Mistress Blanc, she's got a different feel. They were screened by someone else, one of her lieutenants, I think.”
“So... we're waiting for them to show?” Lauren asked, even as she dropped her duffel. For the big, open area, she wanted something with better range than her submachine gun. She popped it off her harness and pulled her rifle hard-case out of the duffel. “Won't the gunfire bring more thralls?”
Kandergain shook her head slightly as her eyes ranged the open space. “I muffled it. Also, I think we've worked over to their flank. I'm not sure, but I think Mistress Blanc's people are more focused in the other direction... and whoever is here doesn't want to give away his position by calling for help.”
“What are you going to do?” Lauren asked as she opened the case. She pulled the Samsonov SKL 15 six point eight millimeter rifle out of the case and connected the receiver and barrel in one smooth motion, even as she pulled out her scope. By the time Kandergain answered, Lauren had already loaded the magazine and attached the rifle to her harness.
“I'm going to go out and challenge him, whoever he is. He has to know he's not a match for me, one on one, but he probably thinks he can keep me distracted long enough for help to arrive.” Kandergain put her words into effect and walked out of the shadows. She was ten meters out when another figure emerged from hiding near the gate, almost directly opposite Lauren. She watched as the pair of them walked towards one another.
They paused, around ten meters apart, and Lauren saw the air crackle around them. She stood in thought for a moment, watching the two still figures. Then she gave a shrug, knelt, and brought her rifle up. She leveled her sights on the enemy psychic's head and triggered a single round.
Kandergain spun as her opponent flopped limply to the ground, “Really? It was supposed to be a duel, one on one! That's really bad form.”
Lauren snorted as she walked up to where Kandergain stood, “We don't have time to dick around. I'm sure you could apologize to him, maybe that would help?” When the psychic didn't answer right away, she smiled, “No? Well, let's go then. We can let him make his complaint to the police. I'm sure they'll be very sympathetic.”
***
Halcyon Colony
Garris Major System
October 7, 2403
Garret stepped into the conference room into a storm of swearing.
He paused, taken aback, to find Commodore Pierce storming back and forth. It wasn't so much the language the other man used, as the complete break of his military bearing. Commodore Pierce almost never swore and on the few occasions he did, it was a mild invective at best. “Bloody stupid bastards, what the hell are they thinking...” The Commodore finally seemed to notice Garret and the other man paused.
It seemed to take him a long time to get himself under control, “Captain Penwaithe.” He said Garret's last name like a curse.
“What happened, sir?” Garret asked.
The other man ran a hand through his blonde hair. He let out a deep breath and shook his head, “Apologies, I should have better control over myself.” He looked up and his ice blue eyes met Garret's. “Your sister-in-law has just returned from Port Klast. No doubt you noticed the large number of vessels in orbit?” He waited for Garret's nod, though in truth, Garret had only mentally noted them in passing. “Well, apparently Counselor Penwaithe recruited some additional privateers, somewhat augmented by some gutter scum that Admiral Mannetti recruited.”
“I haven't spoken with her or my brother for that matter, since I left Halcyon, sir. Are their privateers all that bad?” Garret asked.
The Commodore slid a document down the table. “The ones that Admiral Mannetti recruited are scum. Really, some of the worst filth in human race. Hell, there's even a pair of Wrethe raiders in that bunch.” Garret blanched as he recognized some of the names. Some of them had serious bounties. “What about the ones from Jessica Penwaithe?” Garret asked as nonchalantly as possible.
Evidently his boss was better at uncovering secrets than Garret was at keeping them, “Your former girlfriend picked some of the better mercs there at Port Klast. I'd almost say she did a good job, except for a couple of those names... like Captain Bloody Stavros Fucking Heraklion!”
The pure, condensed vitriol in Commodore Pierce's voice shocked Garret. Whoever this Stavros was, there was a very solid hatred between them. “Who is he, sir?”
“Scum,” Commodore Pierce snapped. “A self-centered slime-bag, born on old Earth. Thinks of himself as a ladies man and a gentleman, but he's pirated and raped just like the worst of Admiral Mannetti's lot.” The Commodore shook his head, “We've something of a personal history. Honestly, I thought he was dead... that's half of my anger. A... friend of mine swore he would kill the bastard and idiot that I was, I took him for his word.”
Garret shifted uncomfortably. The Commodore rarely, if ever, discussed his past. Very little was known about him before he started up the War Dogs. This glimpse into his past suggested a very personal connection to this Stavros Heraklion. That wasn't the kind of relationship a legitimate mercenary would cultivate. Garret had just assumed that the Commodore had military experience, probably in the Colonial Republic or maybe the Centauri Confederation. Certainly he couldn't have founded a mercenary company with the Guild on Tannis if he had a known criminal background... yet those things could be erased, records could be modified and expunged.
Commodore Pierce met Garret's gaze and gave him one of his sardonic smiles, “Don't worry, Commander, my personal disagreement with Stavros won't be an issue. I won't let it. Though if he sides with Admiral Mannetti, then, well, all bets are off.” His smile turned into a hard thing, something that suggested he would love to take the other man down.
“Well, sir,” Garret said, “I'm not sure why Counselor Penwaithe signed him on. I would have thought she had better taste than that.”
The Commodore gave a snort, “People change over time, trust me, Commander.” He shook his head, “She probably was a little too excited over his vessel. The Kraken is a fine ship, more than a match for the Warwagon by herself, and it carries two squadrons of fighters so it might well be a match for our entire force in anything like a fair fight.”
“Truly?” Garret asked. He glanced again at the sheet, “It says here it's a heavy cruiser... Aram-class?” He had never heard of an Aram-class cruiser, it didn't sound like something built in the Centauri Confederation or Tannis's shipyards.
“That's something of a joke,” Commodore Pierce said. “The ship was discovered by Sergio Aram, a xenoarcheologist, in orbit over a dead world. He was able to power her up and bring her back to human space. Sergio was something of a treasure hunter, so he used the Kraken pretty aggressively for a few years until a bank seized it and his other effects for debts unpaid. She's seen service as a mercenary ship, a privateer, and a pirate and it's since changed hands a dozen or more times until Stavros hijacked her from her last owner at Anvil.”
“You seem to know a lot about the ship,” Garret asked.
“Oh, I'm very familiar with the Kraken's history, trust me,” the Commodore said. He shook his head, “In any case, clearly you came here with something in mind, what do you have for me, Captain?”
Garret straightened, “Sir, I'd like to protest some of the... additions to my crews.”
“You're talking about the girl, Abigail Gordon?” The Commodore said.
“She's just an idealistic youngster, sir,” Garret said. “Hell, she thinks we're some sort of selfless defenders of Halcyon.”
“You're worried because you know her family and you don't necessarily trust yourself to keep her alive,” Commodore Pierce said. He snorted, “She tested out damned well on the auxiliary position on a Hammer. Hell, given a bit more training you might put her in as a pilot.”
“I don't want to get her killed, sir,” Garret said. For that matter, he didn't want to be around her. She was too happy, too eager to please, and she looked at him with hero worship that made him feel uncomfortable.
“Then don't get her killed,” Commodore Pierce said. “We've recruited a number of personnel from Halcyon. I want them integrated in all parts of our force. That gets us a certain level of loyalty from our employers, it's their sons and daughters serving with us, after all. It also means fewer of our people will grumble about the risks we're taking, especially when the man or woman in the cockpit with them is from this planet.”
Garret's eyebrows went up, “You think the risks are getting bigger, sir?”
“I know they are,” the Commodore said. “That list of scum brought in by Admiral Mannetti tells me that. Heinlein Base will be overwhelmed soon with ships refitting. That's why I'm happy enough with our position here while we conduct repairs and upgrades and train up your new ships.”
“Very well, sir,” Garret said. He suddenly remembered the message that Captain Gizmon asked him to pass on, “Oh, we've got some traffic from down below, probably something to do with those new recruits. They want you down there for a discussion with Counselor Penwaithe.”
“Fine,” Commodore Pierce's lips twisted with derision. “I'll go.” His eyes narrowed then, “And you're coming with me.”
“What?” Garret asked. He felt his stomach fall at what that meant.
“The Counselor is your old girlfriend, you might be able to get some more from her than me and you sure as hell might have a better chance talking to her about some of these recruits of hers... particularly that bastard Stavros.”
Garret opened his mouth to argue, but the Commodore gave him a stern look and he shut his mouth instead. Last thing I want is to talk to her, he thought. He hadn't quite told the truth when he said he hadn't spoken with her. She had actually sent him a nasty message about 'dragooning' her little sister into the War Dogs. He gathered her opinion of him wasn't going to be much higher, if at all, than that of Stavros. Still, it wasn't like he'd gone off and married her sibling, now was it?
He snorted at that idea. Still, he hoped his brother wasn't there for the meeting, he wasn't sure if he could handle talking to the both of them at the same time.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
October 7, 2403
“Mister Noguchi, thank you for your patience,” Kate said as she welcomed the Shogun's Envoy.
“Despite my reputation,” he responded, “I am well-versed in patience.” He smirked a bit, “But, as I understand, the past couple days have been very eventful, what with your leader's father coming back from the dead, not just once, but twice.”
Kate's eyes narrowed. For him to have access to the information on the second Marius Giovanni meant he had a very senior informant indeed. That he offered her that information meant that his patience was not unlimited. It was a bit of a challenge or even a mild rebuke, which in the realm of diplomacy meant that the Shogun wanted an answer. “Well, thankfully, that should have relatively little bearing on our own arrangements...”
“But it will, unfortunately,” he said. “The Shogun has informed me that our offer will be nullified should you accept an offer from either Shadow Lord Imperious or President Spiridon. Indeed, he considers the very idea a threat to any alliance or partnership.”
Kate sat back, “I see.” The obvious statement that they didn't plan to accept either offer was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it would assure the Shogun that they would view him as an important ally, but it would also give the Shogun that information to use against them... such as to torpedo any talks they had between the two powers and the United Colonies. In fact, Kate thought, depending on how they released that information, it could lead to war with the Centauri Confederation or a profound insult to Imperious, which would amount to the same thing.
“How about this?” Kate asked. “Let us discuss what our nation is willing to do, without consideration of either of those two powers. You can run that past the Shogun and should he accept that, then we could continue our discussion.” Kate watched the short, Asian man for a long moment. He showed no outward emotion. In fact, to include the Centauri Confederation envoy, he was the most professional when it came time to deliberation and discussion.
When he finally spoke, Kate could tell he chose every word with care, “I will hear your proposal and relay that. We can agree to discuss these other terms at another time.” The care he chose suggested that he didn't want to suggest that the Shogun was still open to their earlier discussion... but he also didn't want to say that he wasn't. Even with an ansible, it was sometimes difficult for a representative so far from home to get a good feel for what their nations wanted. Kate didn't envy him his job.
“Very well,” Kate said. “Baron Giovanni, Minister of Trade Nguyen, and myself have discussed your initial proposal. Given our current resources, we believe we could build a class of frigates for export sale to the Shogunate. These ships would include military drives, sensors, and weapons. We could begin construction in as little as three months and deliver the first of them within a year.”
Mike Noguchi's eyebrows went up. “Frigates are... substantially smaller than we originally planned.” Yet there was an edge of excitement in his voice.
“These ships will easily exceed the firepower of a Forerunner-class destroyer. They'll be a match for anything their size built by the Centauri Confederation.” Kate didn't really know much about the specifics, only that the Baron had run the idea past his old engineer and this was the result. They had, thankfully, given her some talking points. “These ships will also be relatively cheap, comparatively. And, from what I understand, given the right incentives, we may be able to train your personnel on how to build some under contract there in the Shogunate with technology that we can sell you. I can have my people send you the ship specifications, if you'd like.”
“Very interesting,” Mike answered. She could see the idea of equipment and technology transfer had him hooked. “I'm assuming that in return you would want a formalized alliance.”
“A formalized alliance would be the least we could expect,” Kate answered. “We would, essentially, be giving you the turnkey to produce your own ships. I would imagine that would come in very handy should the Shogunate declare its independence from the Colonial Republic.”
His eyes narrowed. “It would, should that eventuality come to pass,” Mike said. “But that is something for another discussion, perhaps not at all depending upon how your discussions with the Centauri Confederation turn out.”
Kate gave him a nod. “Understood. But I will await the Shogun and the Emperor's final determination on the value of what we offer and I hope they will wait just as patiently to hear what we decide in regards to our other friends.” She put just enough emphasis upon the last word to suggest how she felt about a potential alliance with either. A flash in his eyes suggested he had caught that.
It wasn't an open statement, but it was enough of a suggestion that he could take it back to the Shogun with a reasonable assumption of accuracy.
“Thank you, Madame Foreign Minister,” Mike said. “I'll keep that in mind.”
***
Halcyon Colony, Garris Major System
Independent
October 7, 2403
Lauren Kelly stretched a bit as she waited with Mason in the government offices. They looked something like a vision of hell, with endless rows of cubicles and people hunched over their computers. Mason hadn't asked her any questions when he found her waiting for him at the spaceport, nor had he so much as raised an eyebrow at Kandergain taking the shuttle back up. Lauren still wasn't sure what she was going to tell him about the night's adventures, though at least she had a change of clothes in her duffel and didn't look ready to murder everyone in the offices. Though, she thought, I'd probably be doing them a favor if I was.
She looked up as Mason swore. “What's wrong?” She followed his gaze to where a tall, muscular blonde man in a brown uniform had just stepped into the offices. He was followed by another tall, black man in a similar uniform. Got to be something in the water here, she thought, everyone is so damned tall.
“That's Commodore Frank Pierce,” Mason said.
Before he could say more, the other man spotted them. Some raw emotion flashed over his face, too quick for Lauren to even try to identify it. The man altered his course and came towards them. “Dammit, Stavros, what the hell are you doing here when you could be bleeding out in a ditch somewhere?”
Mason stood up, yet there was a hunched set to his shoulders. When he spoke, he still sounded like Stavros, but there was an edge of something else there, just as raw as whatever had flashed across the Commodore's face. “Frankie Pierce, what a surprise. Still leading from the rear, I suppose?”
Before Lauren could act, the other man grabbed Mason by the throat and slammed him against the wall, “We're here on business... and because of that, I'm not going to kill you and spoil it, no matter how much I want to.”
Lauren cleared her throat, she had her submachine gun pressed against the other man's spine. “You might want to put him down.”
“Still got other people to do your dirty work for you, eh Stavros?” Commodore Pierce demanded as he let Mason go.
“We do what we can,” Mason croaked around a raw throat.
“Commodore Pierce!” a woman's sharp voice called. Lauren and the others turned to find a tall, stately woman stood at the doorway to one of the private offices. She had a lean, slender frame and stood almost two meters in height, yet she still had enough curves under her professional suit to be noticeable. That set Lauren's teeth on edge, because she had an effortless grace to her as well. Next to her, Lauren saw Admiral Mannetti in the doorway. Something of a cruel smile flashed across her face as she stared at Commodore Pierce's face. Well, Lauren thought, we know that she hates this Commodore almost as much as he apparently hates Stavros. Too bad ,that that would have made him a perfect ally under other circumstances. Not for the first time, she wondered why Mason had to pick such a well-hated individual's identity to steal.
“Apologies, madame Counselor,” the Commodore said in a level voice, “Captain Stavros and I had some catching up to do.”
“Clearly,” Admiral Mannetti said with her smile. “Well, the Counselor and I just finished our discussion. I'll take up no more of her time...” She stepped out of the other woman's office and gestured for the Commodore to enter.
Commodore Pierce gave her a frosty nod and he and his companion followed the Counselor into her office. Rather than leaving, however, Admiral Mannetti sauntered in their direction. Lauren restrained a sigh at her display. Really, she could have passed as the Admiral's sister. They had the same short, hourglass figures and similar curly dark hair and dark eyes. The rogue Admiral clearly favored makeup that made her appear both young and alluring while Lauren didn't wear any makeup at all.
Part of Lauren wanted to grab the bitch by the hair and beat the crap out of her. This was the woman who wanted to destroy what Lucius Giovanni was building, not from a desire to replace it with something better, but either from spite or jealousy, and Lauren didn't care which it truly was. Though if rumor has it right, Lauren thought, Baron Giovanni has rejected her charms not just once but twice. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, Lauren knew.
“Captain Stavros, we meet under such interesting circumstances,” Admiral Mannetti said. “I hadn't even known you were headed here until your little display with Captain Archambault and now we cross paths again with Commodore Pierce. You do have a way with people, don't you?” She sounded both sincere and amused, Lauren noted, which was interesting because Kandergain assured them that her spies had reported their goal to her people before they left.
Mason gave her a nod, though he had a touch of worry on his face, “I'm afraid that the Commodore and I are well acquainted. I suppose there might be some hard feelings, these things happen, you know.”
“Oh, I completely understand,” Admiral Mannetti said. “The Commodore has this moral inflexibility to him, especially regarding his employers.” She said the last in a hard tone. Clearly the Commodore was something of an annoyance. “He also has a tendency to survive when the odds are against it, him and his 'War Dogs' both.”
“War Dogs?” Lauren asked.
The Admiral gave her a sharp look, as if surprised to be questioned by Mason's bodyguard. Lauren bit her lip and looked over at Mason. Mason dropped a hand on her shoulder, “The young lady is the orphaned daughter of an old companion of mine, a ward of sorts... though she does tend to speak out of turn at times.” He squeezed her shoulder in warning.
“Ah, how quaint,” Admiral Mannetti said but her eyes appraised Lauren like a warship's lidar might scan a hull. “Child, the War Dogs are a mercenary company, registered at Tannis and everything. I think the Tannis mercenary guilds are a bit too drawn to the letter of the law myself, but the War Dogs are even worse, they can and have pursued contracts even to the point that it's cost them more than they earn from it.” She made a moue of distaste, “Though even then they often find other ways to profit from their efforts. They're well known for their loyalty to their employers... almost fanatically so.” The tone of bitterness in her voice told Lauren just how annoying she found that.
“Thank you, Admiral,” Lauren said politely. “Sorry that I spoke out of turn.”
“Of course, darling,” the Admiral said. She rested a hand on Mason's shoulder, “And you have a fine patron, I think. I must say that I'm impressed with you, so far, Stavros. You're more than your reputation and that's a good thing in our business. Continue to impress me and I might well find a place for you in my own fleet.”
Mason gave her a smile, “Admiral, I appreciate the kind words.” His voice rose just enough to be heard by anyone trying to overhear, “I am, of course, loyal to the fine people of Halcyon, they're my employers after all.” The sarcastic smirk he gave the Admiral suggested that was a lie. Lauren wondered if Mason were laying it on a little too heavily. Then again, Stavros wasn't known for his subtlety.
“Of course,” Admiral Mannetti said with a matching smirk. She also leaned forward a bit to show off her assets and Lauren grit her teeth at the flirtation. Not that she was jealous, of course. She was just irritated that the woman could be at once so degrading to women in general and so obsessed with her own personal power. “Well, keep up the good work, Stavros, and here's to hoping they appreciate your value here on Halcyon.”
She let Mason kiss her hand and gave Lauren a nod and then sauntered away.
***
Garret winced as Jessica slammed the office door shut after they both stepped inside. “Just what the hell are you thinking?!” she demanded. As Garret stared at her he couldn't help an absent thought about her beauty. She had clearly aged under the strain of the past decade, but her cool gray eyes and fine featured face showed experience rather than wear. She wore her blonde hair in a severe fashion, pulled back and taut, rather than loose and long like she used to.
The Commodore met her angry gaze with one of his own, “I'm thinking that our original contract said nothing about working with wanted pirates and scum like Stavros Heraklion.”
She looked away first, “He does have a somewhat checkered past...”
“He's a known liar, thief, and murderer,” Commodore Pierce said. “And he's not nearly as bad as Admiral Mannetti. At least Stavros would betray you for profit, Lucretta Mannetti would do it because that's just her nature.”
Jessica scowled, “I know, but that's not the current issue. The current issue is that you are not holding up your end of the contract if you're physically assaulting our privateers in my offices... nor are you doing so if you are refusing missions due to unspecified damages.” From the way she weighted her words, she clearly put more importance on the former rather than the latter. She wants to keep us close to home, Garret realized, but she doesn't want anyone listening to know. That realization worried him, not just because she didn't trust the security of her own offices, but also because, even after a decade, he could still read her. She glanced over and met his gaze, “As for you, Commander Penwaithe, are you seriously so strapped for personnel in your squadron that you recruited my little sister? Is this some kind of game to you or do you really think you can come back here as the triumphant hero after how you left?”
Not one bit of faked anger in that, he thought. Before he could open his mouth to respond, the Commodore spoke up, “I recruited Abigail Gordon, because she applied and her test scores and interview matched our parameters. Also, I assigned her to Azure Flight over Captain Penwaithe's protests.”
“Oh, she's not good enough for his squadron, is she?” Jessica growled.
“I don't want to get her killed,” Garret snapped, “Though with how things are looking, it's more likely that you'll be the one putting her in that position. Especially with how close you and Harris are with Admiral Mannetti.”
Her face went pale, “Listen to me, you bastard. You have no right–”
“Okay,” Commodore Pierce said levelly. “I thought bringing Garret to this meeting might put things on better terms. Clearly, I was wrong. Can you two put aside your bitterness and let us discuss business?”
Jessica looked away and Garret let out an angry breath, “Sorry sir, I won't let my emotions get the better of me.” He ignored how she rolled her eyes at his comment.
“My apologies, Commodore, regardless of my personal distaste for one of your officers, that does not carry over onto your entire command,” Jessica said in an icy tone that seemed to belie her words. She cleared her throat. “I'd called you here to discuss future missions with your forces. I hope you understand when I say that I am uncertain where the Warwagon and your gunships fit into our overall offensive and defensive operations.”
“I understand,” the Commodore said. “And in truth, you have a point. The old ship is too slow to keep up with most of the raiders you've recruited and the same goes for our Hammers. The War Dogs are designed for a brute force approach, either defensive or full offensive, not to skirmish or raid.”
“Yes,” Jessica said. “As our military advisers have informed us.” She sighed, “In truth, we can't afford to continue paying you if you can't perform the missions we need.”
“I'm not trying to pick a fight,” Garret said as preamble. From the glare he received, he might as well not have bothered. “But you need a strong defensive unit here. Sooner or later Nova Corp or Presidente Salazar will get tired of the raids and try to take you out. We can smash the backbone of any such attempt, something most of your privateers don't have the training or discipline to do.”
She scowled, but she nodded, “It's a conclusion we've come to ourselves. That doesn't change the fact that we have a cash flow issue.”
Garret managed to keep from mentioning that was a problem they had created by bringing on so many privateers all at once. From the look on her face, she could hear his unspoken criticism anyway. I guess she can read me just as well as I can her, Garret thought, or maybe I'm more like my brother than I realized.
“Perhaps we can settle that,” Commodore Pierce said. He lowered his tone, “Look, to be honest Counselor, it looks like you may need the protection and we don't like to screw over our employers or to leave them in the lurch, not when they're good people.”
She cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at him, but she nodded for him to continue.
“We just brought up Azure to a full flight, which Captain Penwaithe commands. Our transport ships for those are perfectly capable of keeping up with most of these raiders and his Hammers can detach for battle as necessary.” He shrugged, “The Warwagon took more damage than I'd like to admit in that last fight. We'll be repairing her for a few more months, at least. Let us keep our repair contract with you, keep us supplied, and we'll be your backstop here while we undergo upgrades and repairs. You only pay for the Hammers and those will be out of your raid income rather than your war chest.”
Jessica frowned, “Will that repair contract include your damage and upgrades?”
Garret looked at the Commodore, who seemed very relaxed for the fact that he was going to be paying the Warwagon's crew's income out of his pocket. “No, it doesn't. We've already ordered most of those parts, anyway and it's good training for my people to do the work.” Garret bit his lip nervously. That was a huge expense that the Commodore had just added to their operating budget. Like most mercenary companies, their budget was normally trimmed to the bone. He couldn't guess how the Commodore planned to pay for it all, especially with the recent expenditures of the expansion.
“That's more than fair, actually,” Jessica said. “I suppose you would want salvage rights over anything you stop in orbit?”
“Of course,” Commander Pierce said.
“Very well,” she nodded. “I think that does settle the cost of keeping you on.” She shook her head, “But that doesn't change how we're going to be operating. Right now, Admiral Mannetti is our primary lead on operations, understood?”
“Yes,” Commodore Pierce said. “Of course.” The edge to his voice, however, suggested that would only last as long as it had to. Oddly enough, Jessica gave him a single nod at that. I really need to find out what the hell is going on here, Garret thought.
“Well then, Counselor, I won't take any more of your time. Thank you,” the Commodore said and led the way out into the offices. Garret saw that the pirate Stavros was still seated, waiting, along with his female companion. The pirate gave them both an dismissive wave as they left the offices.
“That went well,” Commodore Pierce said.
“Sorry that I reacted to her like that, sir,” Garret said quietly.
“Oh, that's fine, Garret,” Commodore Pierce said. “Apparently it was a day for high emotions.” He paused, though on the steps and checked his datapad. “Ah, good news, she's already pushed the contract through.” Garret nearly choked at that. For that to be the case, she must have already had their terms drafted. Garret suddenly wondered if his boss had asked him along purely as a sideshow to distract any eavesdroppers.
“Commander Penwaithe!” Jessica's voice came from behind them.
Garret turned, surprised to see her only a few meters away. “Yes?”
She sighed, “Your brother mentioned that he would like to see you. If you can manage to be civil, you could come by our house this weekend. You could meet your nephews, maybe pretend you give a damn about someone besides yourself.” The dispassion in her voice cut him in a way her previous anger hadn't.
Garret managed a slight nod, “Of course. I'll try to make it.”
“I'll send you the address, thanks. If nothing else, your nephews would like to meet their uncle,” Jessica said and turned away.
Garret met the Commodore's gaze. There was something there, like an echo of Garret's pain in the other man. “Well,” he clapped a hand on Garret's shoulder. “Perhaps we should get off this planet before we run into anyone else from our pasts, eh?”
***
Halcyon Colony, Garris Major System
Contested
October 7, 2403
Mason stepped onto the bridge of the Kraken in full raging Stavros mode, “Out, damn you worthless bags of excrement! Out, off my bridge!” He shouted. “That damned fool Pierce wants to insult me in front of Admiral Mannetti just show that he's a man, does he! I'll give him a piece of my mind. Out, all of you!” He waved his hand at the bridge crew, most of whom scurried out. Lauren, who stood beside him, clearly intimidated them as much with her silence as Stavros's angry bluster. The memory of what had happened to the Roirdan boy hung in the air.
“What's going on?” Lauren asked as the last of the crew hurried out.
Kandergain appeared from one of the side hatches, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Something up?” She asked. Mason quirked an eyebrow at Kandergain. The psychic closed her eyes for a moment and then gave him a nod. That meant they were free of any kind of bugs for the time being.
“You see the old dreadnought in parking orbit over Halcyon?” Mason asked.
Lauren brought it up, “Yeah, I noticed it when we came in, I honestly thought someone had just parked the old wreck there as some kind of station or something.”
“No, it's still operational,” Mason said. “That's the flagship of the War Dogs, it's Commodore Frank Pierce's flagship.” He sighed, “Part of me wishes it really wasn't here.” He didn't want to do what he was about to do. I don't really have much of a choice, Mason thought darkly. He keyed up the laser transceiver and punched in the code for the dreadnought. A moment later, a crewman's face appeared on his screen. “This is Captain Stavros Heraklion, of the Kraken. You tell that bastard Pierce that I demand to speak with him! He owes me an apology for that humiliation in the Counselor's offices.”
“Uh, I'll tell him you called,” the communications tech said.
“You get him on now or I'll broadcast this full band to every ship in orbit!” Mason shouted and waved his arms. The tech blanched and nodded quickly. He could see the woman speak to someone off the screen for a moment and then look back. “The Commodore will receive your transmission, uh, Captain Stavros. He's moving to his private briefing room now.” The display switched over to a hold screen that showed the War Dog's crest: a snarling mastiff's head at the center of an explosion.
Mason waited until the screen switched again, this time to display Commodore Frank Pierce. Mason brought him up on the main screen. Before Mason could speak, the Commodore did, “This end is secure, we swept for bugs upon my arrival, I figured you would call.” There was a tone of resignation in his voice.
Mason felt some of his tension ease. “I wasn't sure you really recognized me.”
“How could I not?” Frank Pierce asked. “Dammit, Tommy, what the hell are you doing here, dressed like that imbecile, no less? I thought you were out of this business!”
“I thought the same of you,” Mason said. The surprise he had felt upon seeing him walk into the Counselor's offices had nearly blown his cover.
The mercenary commander looked away, “I'm good at it. And it's easier on the conscience when you fight with some kind of ethical code.” He cleared his throat, “Who are these other two... and do they know... do they know everything?”
“Not everything, Frankie,” Mason said softly. He glanced at Lauren and Kandergain. “This is Lauren Kelly, she's... a good friend and companion. She's helping out on this run. The tall one here is Kandergain, she's a psychic, works against the Shadow Lords and Balor,” Mason said.
Frankie's eyebrows went up, “Oh really?” He seemed to appraise Kandergain for a quick moment. That moment lengthened and his eyes narrowed, “I think we've met, actually. Terra Nova, in battle against Shadow Lord Sanctus. You gave us enough warning to undock from the station before her suicide team took it out.”
“I'm glad you remember,” Kandergain said. “Not many survivors of that fight, though I'm glad to see the War Dogs have not only survived but prospered.”
He snorted, “Prosperity might be a bit of an exaggeration.” His gaze went to Lauren, “Companion, eh?” His gaze was appraising, but there was something in his tone that sounded almost envious. Hard, Mason thought, to live a life of command, never able to open yourself to someone, especially when you have secrets like ours.
Mason smirked a bit at Lauren's flush, “Comrade, may be a more accurate descriptor,” Mason said. His words, if anything seemed to make Lauren even more irate.
“I had the drop on you, didn't I?” Lauren snapped at Frankie.
“You did,” Frankie said. He looked at Mason, “But we're going a bit far afield. You know my purpose here. I'm not sure I even want to guess at yours.”
“Have you heard of what happened out in the Faraday system, yet?” Mason asked intently. If the other man knew what had happened out there, they might sway him over entirely. Then again, with what Mason knew of him, Frankie would be hard to turn against his employers.
“Some vague rumors about the Dreyfus Fleet and some warlord defeating the Chxor or maybe the Balor, nothing more than that,” Frankie answered. His eyes went narrow, “Don't tell me you were involved in that!”
“I was on the ground, with Lauren here, fighting the Chxor,” Mason answered. “We left before the big battle...”
“I was there,” Kandergain said. “We engaged and destroyed both a Chxor fleet and a Balor one with the Dreyfus Fleet. Baron Lucius Giovanni was in command. They've founded a new nation out there, the United Colonies.”
Frank raised an eyebrow, “Huh. That's interesting. Did you say Lucius Giovanni?”
“Yes,” Kandergain said, “Why?”
“Because there's a Marius Giovanni whose face has been plastered all over the news feeds, talking about some grand alliance for the past couple days,” Frank said. “Apparently a couple of Nova Roma worlds have held out against the Chxor and signed up with the Centauri Confederation. He's also talking some kind of alliance pending with the Faraday system and the Dreyfus Fleet.”
Kandergain began to swear.
“You can deal with that later,” Mason said to Kandergain. “ Look, that's part of why we're here, Frankie. Admiral Mannetti has some serious ire with Baron Giovanni and his United Colonies. So does her 'friend' Admiral Collae. They both helped to liberate Faraday from the Chxor and then double-crossed Giovanni afterward to try to keep the planet and the Dreyfus Fleet.”
“Let me guess, he double-crossed them back?” Frank asked.
“In a manner of speaking,” Mason said. “Turned it around on them, captured Admiral Mannetti and forced Collae to flee. Only someone sprung Mannetti and now she's here and so is Collae. Collae tried to recruit Tommy King to go after her, probably in a way that wouldn't mess up whatever he's got going on here. We're trying to figure out why they're here.”
Frankie nodded, “So you did a Dread Pirate Roberts...”
“What is it with that?” Lauren snapped.
“Old movie, quite good,” Kandergain said. She gave Lauren a quick, evaluative gaze, “Well before your time.”
“... get recruited by the Halcyon government, come out here and hope to get to the bottom of it all?” Frankie asked. At Mason's nod, he continued, “Well, you're in luck, we're trying to piece it together too. Our employers seem to trust Admiral Mannetti pretty implicitly, which tells me they have some serious leverage on her, somehow. It looks to me like she's bringing in more and more of the gutter scum that follow her type, probably in the hopes of seizing the entire colony and taking whatever it is she wants.”
“What would that be?” Mason asked.
Frankie didn't quite meet his eyes, “We're not entirely certain yet. I've got some ties and contacts here. I'll continue to work that end... how about we use our little enmity to get you in good with Admiral Mannetti?”
Mason grimaced. “That sounds like something that will get some of our people killed,” he said. “I prefer the smoldering gaze approach and just proving capable as a privateer. I really don't want to get innocent, or even relatively innocent, people killed.”
“Well, we're fighting the Colonial Republic and Nova Corp's pawns, so not a lot of innocent people involved,” Frankie said with a grunt. “Alright, I prefer that approach myself. Though knowing the type of scum who would sign on with the likes of Stavros, I'm surprised you aren't willing to sacrifice the lot of them.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Mason said, “but no, not even the worst of the lot.” Mason thought of the Roirdan boy again and shook his head.
“I didn't say disappointed,” Frankie said, his voice sincere, “I said surprised. Perhaps even pleasantly. You've changed a bit, I guess.”
“And you too,” Mason said. “Alright, I'm signing off. I'll pump up the rage on my end, I'm sure you can manage it all from yours. Thanks, Frankie.”
“Of course,” he said. He paused, “Tell me, Tommy, did Stavros die a bad death?”
Mason flinched a bit at the tone, but he met Frankie's eyes, “A very horrible one.”
The smile from Frankie showed that he hadn't quite managed to bury all of his demons. “Thanks, Tommy. I'm glad you took care of that for me.” He cut the connection before Mason could respond.
***
Faraday
United Colonies
October 13, 2403
Matthew Nogita stepped forward and greeted the Baron as the older man stepped off the shuttle. “Baron Giovanni, welcome to Skydock Station.”
“I see we've gotten around to naming it,” the Baron said. “Sorry that I didn't make it to the christening.”
“I imagine you might have had a few things going on, Baron,” Matthew said. He started to lead the way out of the shuttle bay, but the Baron held up a hand as he took in the activity. “I see a lot of uniforms up here.”
Matthew couldn't hide his frown, “Yes, sir. Ever since the attack we've had a military presence, both throughout the station and in the command hub, as well.”
“You don't approve?” Baron Giovanni asked. His voice was neutral, which Matthew recognized as his way of sounding out Matthew's honest opinion. It was a tendency of his that Matthew appreciated, he let the people who worked for him express their opinions before he gave them his. More often than not, Matthew had run into bosses who expressed their opinions and required their subordinates to emulate them.
“It's not the security aspect, it's just that... well, they're not working with us. This is a civilian station. We just started work on the military platforms, if you hadn't heard. The work on those we expect to have military oversight, but they've been digging into everything up here, almost like they want to find something wrong with how we're doing business.”
“Interesting,” Baron Giovanni said. “Has Captain Beeson arrived already?”
“Yes, Baron,” Matthew said. The Faraday native had arrived early in the morning, with a casual mention that he was acting as the Baron's aide. Matthew guessed that measured up somewhere between a secretary and an assistant, but he didn't know why a senior officer would have that duty in the military. Now that he thought of it, Captain Beeson had seemed rather interested in some of the activity by the military personnel aboard.
“Good,” Baron Giovanni said. “I heard that repairs were completed?”
“Oh, of course, Baron,” Matthew said eagerly. “We had the entire station back up to full operations within a week of the attack. I had them pull one of the Chxor plants from salvage for power and we've installed a secondary reactor as well. We've also installed some point defense turrets, nothing strong enough to even scratch the paint on a real warship, but enough to stop a missile or kinetic weapon, we hope.” That was where some of the military types had come from, as crews and operators for the weapons until Matthew's civilian crew finished their training. But their support staff had arrived and then others, it almost felt like an invasion at this point.
“Well, some kind of defensive ability is nice,” the Baron said. He sounded somewhat distracted though. “How is construction on the vessels proceeding?”
“Very well,” Matthew said. He shook his head, “Honestly, I'm glad everyone is so behind this new government and your people. Worker motivation is through the roof, even with uncertainties over the economy.” His quasi-real position as the station supervisor had been approved by the new Economic Minister. Matthew's pay was negligible, but the goal, or so they said, was to privatize the station. With his contacts and experience, he figured he would be able to easily start-up a new business, particularly with the shares that workers on the station earned in regards to station ownership. “The incentive program is a nice touch there too.” Most of the workers were furiously trading them, either for cash or shares with ships or companies. Matthew had already accumulated a tidy number, though he wasn't nearly as ruthless in his trades as some.
“Oh, right,” the Baron answered. “I remember that report. Ownership shares for once things are up and running, for a transfer over to private industry.” He shrugged, “I gave it my approval, but my grasp of the economics is lacking, I'll admit.”
“Oh, it's just some cutthroat capitalism at play, sir,” Matthew grinned. “But since it's the workers involved, there's a sense of ownership at the same time. I haven't seen this much excitement since we screwed over Schultz Enterprises.”
Lucius grinned at that, “Yes, that was exciting times.” He frowned then, “What ever happened to Randal Schultz, the industrialist?”
Matthew's smile faded a bit, “He was one of the Chxor collaborators. Bastard lost half his ships in their initial occupation, but he weaseled his way into their good graces by maintaining ore production from his mining ships.”
The Baron's eyebrows went up, “He must have been very convincing, I'm told the Chxor prefer to oversee any types of space operations.”
“I'm not sure of the details,” Matthew admitted, “But his own staff testified against him. He was using prisoners from the Chxor labor camps to run his ships, basically as slaves. He also acted as an informant for them, turned in some of his own ships officers who tried to smuggle people out of the system. The Chxor turned him over after their surrender. Only reason I know any of this is that my dad worked aboard one of those ships and he and my mother told me about it.”
“I'm glad he made it through,” the Baron said and put a hand on Matthew's shoulder. “There weren't many families who were reunited happily after the Chxor occupation.”
Matthew nodded. His father had survived the Chxor occupation aboard one of Schultz's mining ships while his mother had survived with some relatives out in the countryside. Still, he felt quite a bit of anger at the people like Schultz who had sided with Faraday's occupiers. “Well, Schultz was executed by a war crimes tribunal.” He couldn't help a tone of satisfaction at that... or at how his father had said the magnate had died on his knees in tears. He shook his head, “Well, my Lord, would you like a full tour first or would you like to settle in?”
The Baron shrugged, “I'm short on time, I'm afraid. I'll need to speak with Captain Beeson in regards to my schedule, but I think I only have time to see the highlights.”
Matthew Nogita gave a nod, “Understood, Baron. Right this way.”
***
Lucius stepped into the office that Matthew Nogita had supplied and found Captain Beeson in discussion with Ensign Perkins. They both broke off and turned to face him, “Good evening, sir,” Captain Beeson said.
“Good evening,” Lucius said. He shook his head, “I thought this would be the least likely place to have military oversight, but it appears I was wrong.”
“We've swept the room, sir,” Forrest said. “It's clear. We can still speak openly here, at least.” Lucius had cut orders for the Nova Rosnik to remain here at Faraday. He'd also asked Admiral Dreyfus for a number of 'excess' officers to assist in forming a staff here to manage some of the rear area military issues. Unsurprisingly, Captain Harper had immediately detached the young ensign.
Lucius just nodded. He quirked an eyebrow at Captain Beeson. The younger man took a nervous breath, “Sir, before we begin, I want you to know we are being very cautious, not just to avoid tipping our hand to any possible conspirators but also to avoid leaping to any conclusions about the possibility of a conspiracy or the goals of any alleged conspiracy.”
Lucius nodded, “Go on.” He felt the evidence was already there, but he admired their diligence.
“Sir,” Forrest Perkins said. “We're trying to be objective... but things are starting to add up and we really don't like this math.” There was an edge of fear in his voice, but also anger. Lucius had some initial doubts when the young man had signed up as far as his professionalism and bearing, but he had none about his bravery or dedication to the cause. The ensign had lost everything, but retained a stubborn core of strength that Lucius respected. His bravery in leading a tiny mining vessel into the guns of a Chxor Dreadnought had established him with enough flair that Lucius thought he would go far... assuming his bravery wouldn't get him killed.
“It starts with the rumors, sir,” Daniel Beeson said. “Normally, rumors are broad spectrum, that is, everyone spreads them and you get a variety of messages, sometimes pretty mangled by the time it goes around.”
“Right,” Lucius said. He knew all to well how rumors went around, especially back on Nova Roma. He had to bury a mental connection between the rumors of his childhood and the presence of not just one, but two men, claiming to be his officially traitorous father.
“Well, these rumors are all the same, almost word for word,” Daniel Beeson said, his voice level. “And from the people we've contacted, it's coming from the same two or three people. There's some secondary spreading, after that, but not much. There's too strong a sense of loyalty to both you and to Admiral Dreyfus.”
“To Admiral Dreyfus?” Lucius asked.
“That's the thing, sir,” Forrest said. “The rumors that Captain Beeson and I heard, we think those were some of the initial feeler rumors. It looks like those were designed, and yes, I said designed, to generate uncertainty, to sow a bit of confusion. The next set of rumors seems more targeted.”
“Discussion that Admiral Dreyfus is getting old, that he should let younger men step in. Rumors that he doesn't have the strength of will to do what needs to be done,” Daniel Beeson said. “It looks like a direct undercutting of his authority to command. This next set of rumors posts you as some kind of ridiculous tin-pot dictator, who will get the entire Fleet destroyed on some grandiose quest to destroy illusory threats.”
“Illusory?” Lucius asked.
“There are... well, call them war weary personnel,” Daniel said softly. “They left everything they knew behind to save the future of their race. They've participated in the largest battle they've ever dreamed of, against not just one, but two alien fleets. They thought the hard work was done, but now they're facing the entire Chxor Empire.”
“Some of these personnel have difficulty believing that the Chxor built such an empire in only eighty years,” Forrest said. “To them, the Chxor are just those odd, humanoid aliens human explorers had just discovered.”
Lucius shook his head, “Alright, so two sets of rumors, from point sources.” That didn't sound good. In fact, it sounded very similar to the charge of mutiny. “What else?”
“There's also a cabal of senior officers in the Fleet,” Forrest said. “They seem to be trying to control the selection of Fleet and Marine commanders. I think it's one, Captain Beeson thinks there's actually two or three.”
“Two or three?” Lucius asked
“Yes, sir,” Captain Beeson said. “I've been reading through the personnel files you gave me and I'm seeing a sharp delineation on personality profiles, particularly in break-downs between Admiral Dreyfus's staff, the late Admiral Chien Lu's staff, Senior Captain Gronsky, and Senior Captain Ngo.”
Lucius frowned in thought. Vice Admiral Chien Lu was once the second in command for the Dreyfus Fleet. He was a scion of the bureaucratic families that ruled Amalgamated Worlds, but he was also something of a humanitarian. Admiral Dreyfus had mentioned his death, it had happened at the same time as Admiral Dreyfus's wife was killed. “Admiral Chien Lu, he died in an accident of some sort?”
“Officially, yes,” Captain Beeson said. “There was a shuttle between the Crusader and his command vessel, the Patriot. The late Admiral, several of his senior staff, and Admiral Dreyfus's wife were aboard. It suffered a power failure and fell into Sanctuary's depths.” Lucius winced at that. It would have been a relatively painless death, he supposed, when the shuttle was crushed by the pressures of the gas giant. Even so, the anticipation and powerlessness must have been terrible.
“Admiral Dreyfus was supposed to be aboard as well,” Captain Beeson said. “But he received a priority call from Senior Captain Gronsky.”
Lucius blinked at that, “Wait, you're telling me the entire command for the Dreyfus Fleet was supposed to be on that shuttle?”
“Yes, Baron,” Daniel Beeson said. “And what I think is that Senior Captain Gronsky was part of this conspiracy and he got cold feet, but too late to save the shuttle, just early enough to make sure that Admiral Dreyfus wasn't aboard. I did some digging and the logs show that Admiral Dreyfus reached his flag bridge just after the shuttle lost power. He directed rescue operations for the next hour, until they confirmed that the shuttle was lost... and only then did he call back Senior Captain Gronsky.”
“Who at that point knew that if he came forward he would incriminate himself in the death of the Admiral's wife and his fellow officers,” Lucius said softly. “Okay, that's an interesting theory. He looked at Ensign Perkins, “Why just one?”
“The rumor campaign and screening of officers is too unified,” Forrest said. “If it were two separate groups spreading this, then there would be some differences. It's like they're reading from the same script, sir.”
Lucius frowned, “Interesting.” He glanced at the clock. “Alright, I want you to continue. I'd also like a list of personnel that you've vetted and know are trustworthy as well as a primary list of conspirators and a secondary list of those tied into it. How long, do you think, to get enough details to move on this?”
“We've got a lot more work to do, sir,” Captain Beeson said. “There's all kinds of irregularities in their logistics and supply chain... I think Captain Magnani is either directly involved or being leveraged by one group or the other. The power expenditures for some of their factory ships are way off, which is part of why the power shortage is such an issue, I think, sir.”
“There's also the issue of some of the civilian personnel,” Forrest said. “In particular there's this civilian by the name of Newbauer, he's had extensive communications traffic with several of the senior officers that we know are involved... to include an ansible call right after the Centauri Ambassador's event.”
“He's our new Minister of War,” Lucius grimaced. “Which suggests all kinds of ugly things if he's directly involved.” He glanced again at the clock, “Alright, I need to get out and look at some of what our people are working on here. I want a full report on what you have. Also, I'd like you to begin recruiting personnel towards the endgame of this investigation. Get with Colonel Proscia, you're authorized to bring him in on this and get him started planning how we would go about arresting the actual conspirators.”
“Understood, sir,” Daniel Beeson said. “With your permission, we'd also like to get with Miss Nix's personnel and begin coordination, I think they should be involved.”
Lucius nodded slowly. “I'll talk to her, once I get the full report, and bring her in. Then I'll put you in contact with her so you can coordinate.” He felt somewhat sick at the thought of how badly this could explode if the conspirators realized that Lucius was onto them. They had, apparently, already arranged for the murder of Admiral Dreyfus's wife and his second in command. How far would they go to achieve their goals?
***
“Well, Baron,” Matthew Nogita said as Lucius stepped out of the elevator, “This is the part you've been waiting for, no doubt.”
“Oh?” Lucius asked. He had been impressed with the industry he had seen so far. Granted, in peacetime, some of the corners cut would have caused any safety manager to get gray hair. Given the priorities of the wartime effort, safety was waived in the name of efficiency.
“Yes, this is where your favorite engineers are attempting to retrofit some of the Balor ships for our use,” Matthew said, just as the hatch in front of them opened.
“No, no, no, no, no!” the short, pudgy man in the lead said as he rubbed his hands through his thinning brown hair, “You're wrong, Feliks. It won't work.”
“Maybe, Rory, if we adjust the power modulation...” the tall, thin man said as he followed Rory out into the corridor. His voice, heavily accented, seemed to trail off in anticipation of Rory's interruption.
“No, because if we adjust the power modulation, then we'll have to completely overhaul our control systems,” Rory snapped. He didn't seem to notice Lucius or Matthew as he and Feliks moved past and into a side corridor.
“Not if we adjust the frequency to match the power modulation...”
Lucius shared a look with Matthew Nogita. The engineer shrugged and they followed the two into the next room. Lucius did a double take at the size of the chamber and the accumulated equipment and parts that littered it. The sleek lines of a ship loomed over the rest, and it took Lucius a long moment to recognize one of the Balor Bane Sidhe fighters. He hadn't realized they'd captured any of those intact, but this one showed no signs of damage.
Rory was shaking his head as he walked up to a desk littered in equipment and tools. He froze, though and turned around, “You know, you might finally be onto something! Not elegant, maybe, but with some finesse...”
He rushed over to a large piece of machinery, “If we adjust the frequency and power modulation, like you said, that may solve the compatibility issues. But,” he said sharply, “You didn't take into account the synchronization issue with the controls. If you take that into account, we'll need to also adjust everything manually, but we can do that in just an afternoon. That means we can hook this up and start this sucker up, we could probably do this before dinner!”
“Start what up?” Lucius asked. He had a fair idea he already knew the answer and wouldn't like it.
Rory turned back around and his face fell, “Oh, hello.” He shot a look at Feliks, “Why didn't you tell me the Baron was here?”
The taller engineer shrugged, “I thought you saw him.”
Rory sighed, “Well, thanks for that, Feliks.” He turned back to Lucius, “Sir, we have been working non-stop on this power issue. I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty–”
“Mmmh, fifty percent at most,” Feliks muttered.
“–ninety percent certainty,” Rory said, “That we can power up this Balor fighter, not only that, but we've fully repaired it and all its systems are fully operational.”
“We have also installed a fully operational standard control system, tied into all the fighter's systems so that any human pilot could fly it,” Feliks said.
“Of course, we installed that,” Rory said in an exasperated tone. “He has to know we'd do that, otherwise we wouldn't offer!”
“I would say that's good news...” Lucius said. “But the fact that you haven't told anyone yet means there's something you're not telling us now. So either there's substantial risk or cost or both.”
Rory couldn't meat his gaze. He gave a nervous laugh, “Well, risk is such a broad word, I think that if you were to weigh the costs and benefits against one another, you really would find–”
“What are the potential costs?” Matthew Nogita asked sharply. “We've already given you this entire section for your research and repair efforts. For that matter, we're providing you a lot of power from our auxiliary generator for your repair efforts, as well.”
“Yes, well,” Rory looked uncomfortable. “We actually completed the repairs on the fighter and the destroyer already.”
“You did, then where is all that power...” Matthew Nogita trailed off. “You're storing it?”
“We can't get access to the array, so we came up with an alternative,” Rory said. He had a hunched posture, almost as if he expected a blow.
“I told him it was a terrible idea,” Feliks said in a low mutter.
“Thank you so much for that support,” Rory snapped. “Look, Baron Giovanni, I know we don't have approval to do this, but we think–”
“You think,” Feliks muttered.
“I think that this is vital to the war effort,” Rory said, his face concentrated and utterly confident. “Imagine if we could use these ships against the Balor or the Chxor, maybe even build some of our own! We'd be able to eliminate their advantages overnight. Humanity hasn't had a chance like this since the Agathan Fleet!”
Lucius sighed, “Before I even think about giving you the go-ahead, how about you explain to me and Mister Nogita, who you are supposed to keep informed, exactly what it is you are doing.”
Rory gave a relieved sigh, “Excellent, that's just the opportunity I needed!” He waved his hands at Feliks and the tall, skinny engineer scurried over to a platform which contained a huge assembly. From the angle, Lucius wasn't certain, but he thought it was the power coil from a weapon system, though it was huge, if that was what it really was.
“We borrowed a main battery power coil from the salvage from the Chxor wrecks,” Rory said, confirming Lucius's initial impression. “Now these things are hugely inefficient, clearly the Chxor just go for something big to do the job. Well, we modified it, a lot, so that it can store a lot more energy than it was originally designed for.
“How much more energy?” Matthew Nogita demanded. “I've seen the Chxor specs, those coils are rated for petawatts.”
Rory smiled nervously, “Well... we got it up into a discharge of exawatts.”
“You realize if that crystalline matrix were to fail you could easily destroy this entire section, right?” Matthew demanded.
“We ran simulations before we did it,” Rory said.
“It would be almost impossible for that to happen,” Feliks said. “There would have to be some kind of external impact to the matrix itself...”
“Such as battle damage?” Lucius asked. “You do realize that we've been attacked once, already. For that matter, there's enough debris in this system that impact with that is a possibility.”
“Yes, well,” Rory said with a nervous glance at Feliks. “We didn't quite take that into consideration.” He ran a hand through his thinning brown hair, “I assure you that it is stable and we think we have enough power set aside to jump start the Balor Bane Sidhe.”
“I thought you said it would take the entire output of the array?” Lucius asked.
“It might,” Rory admitted, “For the destroyer, almost definitely, but we think we can do a short, modulated burst from this, instead. One heavy discharge to kick start the reactor.” He shrugged, “Also, I might have been wrong about the reason the reactor is cold.”
“Oh?” Lucius asked.
“I think–”
“We think,” Feliks interrupted.
“Fine, we think that there was some kind of power-down code, that the Balor have built into their ships. When they took a certain level of damage or when their crews realized they couldn't hold out against the boarding parties, they sent the power-down code so that we couldn't use the ships.”
Feliks hurried over, his heavily accented voice excited, “Sort of like a safety mechanism, so that their enemies cannot use their weapons against them!”
“So... basically what I said before?” Matthew Nogita asked dryly.
“Yes, well,” Rory said, “Sometimes even someone without the appropriate expertise can get lucky and guess correctly.”
“What about the possibility of other safeguards?” Lucius asked. He remembered his earlier discussion with Matthew Nogita and the possibility of some kind of self destruct or scuttling charge.
“We think that it would be possible to override any such safeguards, with the use of the controls we have already installed,” Feliks said.
“Unless it happens before you could react,” Matthew Nogita said. Yet, Lucius could tell, the engineer was torn. He had already had a chance to handle Ghornath technology when Lucius had first come to Faraday. Clearly the idea of taking apart new technology excited him, especially with the potential applications.
“I'm entirely certain I can stay on top of it,” Rory said.
Lucius gave the engineer a level look, but the other man didn't so much as flinch. “This is alien technology. Something all of us have very little experience with.”
“I may not look like it, but I have a wealth of experience with this,” Rory said fiercely. His back straightened and he stood tall, “I've studied Ben-Yam-Gar ruins, Illuari technology, even an Zarakassakaraz ship. I have three doctorate degrees, two of them in advanced alien technology. When I tell you I can do this, I mean that I can do this.”
Lucius nodded slowly, “Alright. If this works, you get the fighter operational. Then what?”
“We can go to a larger scale,” Feliks said eagerly. “Use the fighter to jump start one of the larger vessels, then go larger still. We could, potentially, get all of the vessels operational with just this one fighter.”
“Risks?” Lucius asked.
Feliks didn't answer immediately. Lucius looked over at Rory.
“There's the possibility that we'll cause the fighter's reactor to overload when we apply that much power all at once,” Rory said softly. “But we are ninety–”
“Fifty,” Feliks said.
“Seventy percent confident that we can prevent that with proper safeguards,” Rory said confidently.
“And if you can't, what's the yield from one of these reactors?” Lucius asked. He didn't like the thought of losing a fighter, much less whatever personnel assisted Rory and Feliks in their attempt.
“We are still uncertain as to the total energy output,” Feliks said. “From the models we've run, we estimate that an overload on the fighter would be in excess of one gigaton.”
“In excess of a gigaton?” Lucius demanded. “That's mounted in a fighter that you have setting in the station next to a power coil that could go off like a bomb?”
“We are being very, very safe, I assure you,” Rory said quickly. “The reactor core cannot be opened by anything short of a large explosion and even then it's likely just to be destroyed rather than overloaded. It would require a very particular set of circumstances to accidentally overload it.”
“What about if a Balor infiltrator were to sneak aboard with that express purpose?” Lucius asked sharply.
The two scientists looked at each other with expressions of surprise. “We hadn't really thought about that,” Rory said. “I suppose a Balor would have the necessary expertise, probably one could just turn everything on... and from there they could do whatever they wanted. But there are security guards and Marines and whatnot for that kind of thing, right?”
Lucius sighed. He glanced at Matthew. “I'm going to make sure there's a team assigned to guard their work. I'd like you to arrange for an external site for them to do their work, preferably someplace or something that we don't mind losing.” He turned his gaze back to the pair. “In the meantime, you two will pause your experimentation or at least avoid doing anything drastic or with even the slightest possibility of catastrophic failure. Am I understood?”
“Yes, of course,” Rory nodded quickly.
“Good.” Lucius sighed. “And on that note, I'm going to attach one more member to your little group. Someone with a few degrees of his own and a lot of real world experience as well. He's not there to override you, but he's going to be there to check your numbers and prove to me that this whole thing could work. He's a pain in the ass and he'll search over everything you do looking for the slightest mistake.”
He saw Matthew Nogita wince as he realized who Lucius was talking about. “His name is James Harbach and I'll send him down here soon, so prepare yourselves.”
***
“Well, that was interesting,” Lucius said as he finally stepped into the control room.
“I'm sorry about that, Baron,” Matthew said. “I should have had some more supervision on those two. There's just been so much going on of late...”
“Not your fault,” Lucius said. “I'm not unhappy with their efforts, just a little surprised.” He shook his head, “It would be wonderful if they could get those ships operational.”
“Dangerous, too,” Matthew grunted, “At least until we could figure those ships out. Basic operations is one thing, but it takes years of working with equipment to really become familiar.”
Lucius nodded. He remembered the first generation of ships after the looting of the Ghornath technology base. Those first ships had not functioned as designed, as often as not, and the crews hadn't really known how to take care of the equipment, so things broke down quickly. Most of those ships had been scrapped after only a decade of use, the ones that had lasted that long. “We can afford to take it a little slow, but we need every advantage we can muster against the threats we face.” He thought, suddenly of the conspiracy within the Fleet, of the two men who claimed to be his father, and of their respective masters. That doesn't even consider the Balor or the Chxor, he thought, our true enemies.
“Well, boss,” Matthew said, “here is our new control room.” He waved at the larger room. “As you can see, we have more personnel manning the sensors, but we have also taken over local traffic control from ground-side, and we are even tied into the Nova Roma elements, both their picket ships and their main fleet. Also, we have a work station over there for military traffic control.”
Lucius nodded, “Excellent. I assume when the defense stations are online they'll take over the military traffic control?”
“Yes, boss,” Matthew answered. “But even then I think we'll act as the overall relay for transmissions and sensor data, especially from the outer sets of sensor arrays. The orbital defense stations communications arrays aren't really designed for the level of traffic we are.”
“Hmm,” Lucius said. They planned to install an overall command bunker either buried deep under the surface of one of the nearer planets or possibly in an undersea location on Faraday itself. The issue with putting one on Faraday was making a large military target on the planet itself. The issue with the near planets were their orbits were different, and that would potentially place the system military command light minutes away from Faraday itself. The other issue was both time and resources. Deep buried bases provided an edge of security and protection against surprise attacks. Several of the old mining companies had put asteroids in orbit around Faraday, but the largest was only five hundred meters in length and wouldn't be secure against large yield warheads or kinetic strikes, not without giving it the ability to maneuver.
Lucius walked up to the sensor display. “Anything on the screens?” Lucius asked. He saw a number of vector tracks, both civilian and military.
“Just the standard milk runs, sir,” the civilian tech said. “A couple mining ships headed out after resupplying, an ore freighter headed to the Apex asteroid mine, and two of the Nova Roma vessels on patrol.”
“Excellent,” Lucius said. He could see that the sensors were not only being fed planet-side where they'd be scanned, but also to the Nova Roma picket ships, who were sending their sensor feeds as well. In theory, with three sets of eyes examining the data, there shouldn't be any issue with missing anything. That's the theory anyway, Lucius thought absently.
Of course, just as he thought that, alarms started to wail.
“What the hell,” Matthew Nogita snapped, “That's the collision alarm!”
Lucius winced, anything close enough to sound that was only a few hundred meters from their hull at most. “What is it?” For all he knew, they had no time, but it was best to act as calm as possible. The worst thing in this kind of situation would be panic.
The sensor tech's face went pale and his voice lost the edge of confidence as he spoke. “I've got a huge sensor contact, right on top of us!”
Lucius's first thought was that the ship had come out of shadow space dangerously close, but there were none of the indicators, no energy discharge and certainly no emission burst. For that matter, as close as it was, if it had come out of shadow space it probably would have caused damage to the station in it's emergence. Instead it was as if the ship had simply appeared.
And it was a ship, Lucius saw, as sensors from the station and in orbit over Faraday started to report. A massive ship, so close that it blotted out a vast swath of their sensors on that side of the station.
“Attention, Skydock Station,” a cultured, pleasant voice said. “This is the warship Baramis. We have come here with peaceful intentions and merely wish to talk.”
Lucius moved over to the communications station. He could hear frantic chatter on the Nova Roma net, but the lack of hostile action and the ship's proximity to the station prevented them from firing. “Attention, Baramis, this is Baron Lucius Giovanni. You picked an odd way to introduce yourself if you have peaceful intentions.”
“Well,” the voice responded, “I wanted to let you know how important it is for me to speak with you and I wanted you to take me seriously. I think this avoids the whole debate over finding time in schedules, don't you think?” There was an edge of good humor in the voice, one that Lucius couldn't help but smile at. Likable bastard, whoever he is, Lucius thought.
“I suppose,” Lucius said. “Who are you and how did you penetrate our security?”
“As for the latter, my ship possesses a very advanced cloaking system, a benefit for slipping through defenses unknown. For the former... I am Shadow Lord Invictus.”
“I see,” Lucius said. He closed his eyes, “Well, I suppose I should clear some time to meet with you directly. Would this evening work?” Two of the three Shadow Lords who had leveraged Emperor Romulus I were involved here at Faraday now. Lucius wasn't sure why... but he knew that he needed to know more.
“Absolutely,” Invictus said. “That would be fine. You are more than welcome to come aboard, with whatever escort you feel appropriate. You and your escort will be honored guests and I assure you that no harm shall come to you.”
“Thank you,” Lucius said, even as he wondered how much he could trust the psychic. Kandergain said that their word is law, Lucius thought, but would they keep it to a non-psychic? He turned to the communications tech, “Patch me through to the planet. I need to make a call.” He only had one real resource to call on, and he hoped that Reginald would finally provide some answers.
***
Faraday
United Colonies
October 13, 2403
Reginald took a seat across from Lucius. His face was composed, but Lucius could see the man tap nervously at the hilt of his sword. “You called, my Lord?”
“I need to know more about the people I'm dealing with,” Lucius said, his voice calm. “The Centauri Confederation, I've dealt with them before, I know their motivations and can guess at their goals. The Chxor I can handle, especially their rank and file. The Shadow Lords... I feel like I'm grasping in the dark. I don't know anything beyond rumor and superstition. I don't know their capabilities, their alliances, their motivations... I have to know what I'm dealing with to effectively fight them.”
Reginald looked away, “Baron... this is dangerous information. I can give you some of the details you seek... but know that the Shadow Lords have killed people to keep themselves mysterious. Half the superstitions and rumors are spread by them as disinformation. Ignorance is as much their ally as their abilities, so they spread it where they can and enforce it where they must.”
“So tell me, starting with the ones we're dealing with,” Lucius said. “Start with Imperious and Invictus.” He watched the other man's face, saw the worry, yet also the determination. This was a man who had opposed the Shadow Lords and what they stood for and had obviously paid for it.
“Very well,” Reginald said. “There are five Shadow Lords: Sanctus, Imperious, Gargant, Invictus, and Lachesis. You are uniquely blessed in that you have thus far dealt with four of them and survived.” He sighed, “Imperious is generally thought to be one of the most powerful, both in psychic ability, intellect, and in ships and troops. He is a skilled manipulator and his preferred tactics are to subvert and control potential allies until they become his subjects. The main weakness in his people, that we've seen so far, is that they have little initiative of their own, they do what he commands them to, no more, no less. Imperious seems driven by the idea that he, alone, should unite and rule humanity.”
“So that's probably his goal here?” Lucius asked.
“Maybe,” Reginald said. “But he's a devious one. He has a number of powerful followers, so his emissary here may be present to sow discord while he strikes elsewhere or just to scout out the potential weaknesses in your defense.” Reginald grimaced, “It is not unusual for one of the Shadow Lords to have a fleet setting in shadow, ready to pounce upon a system after their scouts have finished their evaluations.”
Lucius felt his stomach clench. That kind of assault would be almost impossible to defend against, particularly if they had real time information on their targets. “How likely is that?”
“Well, it's difficult,” Reginald said. “They still need supplies and fuel, just like anyone else. Time spent in one area is time they aren't being used to enrich themselves elsewhere or at least defray the cost of operations. I would say that the longer we go without an attack makes it more likely that they won't... except they may be gathering their forces in preparation and not have even set out yet.”
Lucius sighed. “Very well, what about the others?”
“You've dealt with Lachesis. She's generally considered the weakest, both in ships and troops and also psychic abilities. She's been at a disadvantage since Invictus betrayed her thirty years back in a battle with Imperious. Lachesis is a schemer and a manipulator. While Imperious will try to subvert an ally's will and turn them into a tool, Lachesis will provoke allies into turning on one another and enemies into alliances to their detriment. She makes use of assassins and turns political leaders into puppets.” He shrugged, “She has no loyalty to anyone but herself.”
“That matches what I remember,” Lucius said. He shivered a bit. “Though, she said something to Kandergain, 'there's more than one Giovanni...' do you think she knew my father lived? Do you think she might know more?”
Reginald grimaced. “I'm not sure. I do know that you can't trust her to tell the complete truth, not when a half-truth will do. Like the others, she's good for her word, but she'll do her best to bend that around backwards.”
“Right,” Lucius said. Still, he filed the knowledge that Lachesis might know more about his father... and that she somehow knew something of importance about his family. “The others?”
“Invictus...” Reginald grimaced, “He's the most mysterious of the lot. Everyone had him pegged as a schemer, like Lachesis, relatively weak in power and troops, yet he's been the most successful, particularly since the fall of Earth. You've seen his flagship. What makes him truly unique is how hands-on he has been, particularly in the past few decades. He's almost impossible to figure out and even when it seems like we've foiled his main thrust, he has a dozen alternatives figured out.” Reginald sighed, “He's also a likable bastard, friendly, charming, charismatic. He uses non-psychics and psychics alike, with the only consideration being that they are loyal to him. From what I understand, he treats them with respect and care, we've seen none of the plotting that is standard to Imperious's and Lachesis's courts, with underlings killing one another for the chance to rise a bit in status or power.”
“Sounds like an interesting fellow, for a bloodthirsty pirate,” Lucius said.
“He's the hardest to tie to anything, also. Half the time, we only know that an attack was him because none of the other Shadow Lords knew about it. He cultivates mystery, we don't have a good image of him and most of the audio transmissions he sends are heavily distorted. We also suspect that he has some of his followers pretend to be him to make it harder to pin down where he actually is. He doesn't make use of thralls, either, all his people are either intrinsically loyal or paid well enough that they might as well be. We don't know his endgame, but I wouldn't doubt it has him in charge of things,” Reginald grimaced.
“Right, I'll keep that in mind,” Lucius said. He tried not to think about just how close the Shadow Lord's battleship was in orbit and how easily it had penetrated their sensors. If he wanted, Lucius thought, he could have wiped out the entire planet before we even knew he was here and then escaped to shadow before we could return fire.
“Gargant and Sanctus are two of the most powerful and neither of them deal with non-psychics, though a couple of their people make use of them,” Reginald said. “Gargant is all about brute force and raw power. He's the largest fleet and the most numbers of troops. We still don't know where he produces ships, but his fleet continues to expand, with classes we haven't seen anywhere else. His flagship is an Amalgamated Worlds Ki-Lung-class super-dreadnought, the Nebuchadnezzar, almost as big as one of the Crusaders in the Dreyfus Fleet.” Reginald crossed his feet as he considered his next words and Lucius could see that something about Gargant bothered him more than the others. “He considers non-psychics as weak, inferior... barely sentient. Psychics who don't agree with him are morally weak, unable to separate animals from people, in his mind. I'd call him a fascist, but that doesn't really capture his mentality.”
“Psychic supremacist?” Lucius asked.
“That describes most of the Shadow Lords and their people,” Reginald said. “No, he takes it a step further. Non-psychics are vermin, to be used as cattle when necessary and exterminated when possible. He seeks to prove his superiority against any challenger and he won't hesitate to throw himself, his ships, and his troops into the fray to prove it.” Reginald met Lucius's gaze with one of sadness, “Unfortunately, he's proven himself right every time so far.” There was some element of loss, in Reginald's words, as if he had taken some personal blow from Shadow Lord Gargant.
“And Sanctus?” Lucius asked.
“She's absolutely insane,” Reginald said sadly. “She genuinely feels terrible about the war, bloodshed, and depravity of the others... but she manages to exceed it in every way.” Reginald shivered a bit, “You can't reason with her. In her mind, she is trying to save humanity from it's most dangerous scourge: free will.”
Lucius frowned, “How exactly does she intend to do that?”
“Sanctus makes heavy use of thralls, far heavier than even Gargant” Reginald said. “Imagine, if you will, taking a person and ripping away their personality, their free will, and replacing that with a desire to do the will of their master. Thralls aren't really human anymore. They lack any spark or direction beyond the will of the psychics who control them. They're biological robots, who will blindly charge into gunfire or man stations on a warship even while they burn alive. Most of them are so broken that they harm themselves, few live more than a decade in that state and she does it to men, women, and children that she captures.”
Lucius choked at that thought, “That's horrific!”
“That's what Sanctus sees as the future. Even some of her psychics are bent to her will, either through dedication or by force. They are all fanatical and they think they are saving humanity from itself. As such, they'll accept any depravity, all in the name of saving us from ourselves,” Reginald had a look of disgust on his face, but Lucius could tell there was a certain level of obscene fascination there, too. Reginald didn't understand what drove them but he, perhaps, envied them their dedication.
Reginald took a deep breath. “If you would like, I could give you a more detailed brief on them and their personnel. We don't know much about some of them, but what we do I can make available. I just ask that you keep a close hold on it. These are secrets that people have died to uncover... and that they will kill entire worlds to keep out of circulation.”
“Understood,” Lucius said softly. He would think long and hard before he told anyone else what Reginald had shared with him. The main thing he took away from the discussion was that, as he had suspected, he could not trust Imperious. The information about Invictus, however, made him feel even more confused. Why had the scheming Shadow Lord come to Faraday and what was his true intention with the United Colonies?
***
Chapter X
Faraday System
United Colonies
October 13, 2403
Lucius stepped off his shuttle followed by Sergeant Timorksy and Lance Namori and flanked by Reginald and Kate Bueller. He had decided against a larger entourage in part because he wanted only people he could trust present and in part because he wanted to give the Shadow Lord fewer targets to manipulate.
The shuttle bay of the Baramis was similar in many ways to Shadow Lord Lachesis's shuttle bay. Luxurious carpets made pathways around the bare decking occupied by shuttles. Potted plants and artwork hung on the bulkheads. Yet there was an almost mocking edge to the opulence. Lucius wondered at that as he took it all in.
A tall, Asian man awaited them. He had long dark hair, which hung loosely across his face and down past his shoulders. “Reginald, good to see you, any news from my sister?”
Reginald looked rather like he had swallowed a frog, “Aromata.” He managed something like a polite smile. “Myanna is doing quite well, I understand, though I haven't talked with her in some time.”
“Well, I'm sure she keeps herself busy,” Aromata said. He turned to Lucius. “Welcome aboard, Baron Giovanni. Shadow Lord Invictus greets you and has sent me, in his name, to escort you to his court.”
“Thank you for the welcome,” Lucius said. “By all means, lead on.”
“Of course, just this way,” the younger man said. He wore a black leather jacket, Lucius noticed, with dark gray pants. He led them into one of the odd-shaped hexagonal hatches and down a short corridor towards a lift that awaited them. “Shadow Lord Invictus wondered if you would like a tour of the Baramis before you meet with him?”
Lucius smiled politely, “Tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline.” He didn't have time to be taunted or provoked as Lachesis had.
“Are you certain? The Baramis is rather unique, it is a Miniarai alien artifact, recovered intact. Shadow Lord Invictus took it from Amalgamated Worlds,” Aromata said.
“That would be when he sacked Earth and helped to kill billions of people,” Reginald said as they all stepped aboard the lift, “What a splendid fellow.”
Lucius winced, but Aromata just gave a chuckle, “Reginald, you still hold a grudge about my decision to work for him? Or is it just that you're still sweet on my sister?” As Reginald failed to answer, Aromata's chuckle became a laugh, “Oh, please, you have to admit, it was well played. Me, the poor captive, Myanna desperate to save me. Quite the adventure to be had on Port Klast. I'm grateful, in a way, that your side values Myanna enough to go through such risks. It comforts me a bit in that she'll have effective support against the other Shadow Lords.”
Reginald didn't answer. Lucius filed the information away for later.
The lift opened up on another corridor. This one had darker tones, with dark alcoves and dim lighting. Aromata led the way confidently despite the gloom. Between his dark hair and clothing, his pale face almost seemed to hover as he looked back at them. “Not to worry,” he said, “we are almost there.”
Lucius looked over at Reginald. The other man's hand tightened on the hilt of his saber, but he met Lucius's gaze and gave a slight nod. A glance behind showed Sergeant Timorsky and Lance Namori looked tense, but the sergeant gave Lucius a nod as well.
He stepped out of the lift. As Lucius followed Aromata, he saw that each of the dimly lit alcoves held a pedestal, each with a mask or bust. Each was dimly lit, so Lucius couldn't make out the details of the features, but between the lighting and what he could make out, each conveyed a sense of emotion. It was an odd feeling to stroll past them, each one presenting a subtle shift of emotion.
At last, they came to the end of the corridor and Aromata led them into the chamber beyond. The high ceiling vanished somewhere in the gloom above. Like Lachesis's court, an elaborate, almost Gothic, throne sat at the end of the chamber, though its features were hard to make out, as was the features of the man seated upon it. Lighting from behind and above silhouetted the figure on the throne and mixed with the dim lighting of the court to cast odd shadows. His face seemed just on the edge of the shadows, with just enough light to catch his eyes and make them glitter, but not enough for Lucius to even tell the shade of his irises. Other men and women stood around the edges of the room, though Lucius thought he saw others in alcoves around the edges as well. Like their leader, their faces were often in shadow, though here and there the light would expose one or another as they shifted and murmured.
At the center of the chamber was a large statue. Arranged lights played over it and as Aromata led Lucius past it, he couldn't help but stare. From one angle, it appeared to be a man, yet from another a woman, but as he passed it closer it had bestial features. Lucius shook his head, the entire place had an uncanny feel to it.
“Shadow Lord Invictus,” Aromata said, his voice pitched to carry throughout the chamber, “I present Baron Lucius Giovanni, leader of the United Colonies and a champion of humanity.” The man gave a graceful bow and moved to stand out of the way.
“Ah,” the Shadow Lord said, “You can't know how long I've waited to finally meet, you, Baron Giovanni.” The Shadow Lord had a surprisingly soft voice, though it still carried well in the chamber.
“I can imagine,” Lucius said as he remembered, once again, Kandergain's discussion of precognitives and John Mira's prophesies.
“Perhaps,” Invictus said, as he leaned forward. The light seemed to edge his features a bit more, but they remained in shadow. “You are a particularly lucky man, you know?”
“I think so often enough,” Lucius responded, “Though I don't hesitate to count my blessings, either.” He narrowed his eyes, “What brings you to the Faraday system?”
“Ah, straight to business, even though I see that my mysteries intrigue you, somewhat, don't they?” Invictus said with a chuckle. “You're the type of person who wants to know, wants to understand. I can respect that... but I think that life without secrets is rather boring. Take the the statue you passed. What do you think of it?”
Lucius glanced back over his shoulder at it. At this angle, with the lighting, it almost looked like a mother cradling her child. “It's interesting. Beautiful even, but hard to pin down as to what it really is.”
Someone flipped a switch and lights came up to show the statue in full. Under the cold, white light, it was a simple thing, roughly carved, lifeless, and even ugly. The lights dropped back down, once again giving the impression of the mother and child. Lucius turned back as Invictus spoke, “See, Baron, sometimes, things aren't nearly so pretty without the mystery.”
“Be that as it may,” Lucius said, “I would still like to know why you are here.”
Invictus nodded, “Fair enough. This is, after all, your place, you defended it against the Balor and the Chxor, so I should not deny you the knowledge of why I have come... and as a bonus, I'll tell you some of why my brethren are here as well.”
Before Lucius could ask what he meant by that, Invictus stood. The back-lighting caught on the rings he wore on his hands, one on each, but still didn't, quite, show his face. One looked to be a wedding band, the other a class ring, like from a university or academy. “I've come here, Baron, much like the other Shadow Lords, to take your measure. To find out what kind of man you are... what kind of threat you are. You control the Dreyfus Fleet. You've defeated the Balor and the Chxor... and you have defied Shadow Lord Lachesis in your very survival.”
Lucius cocked his head, “Other Shadow Lords?”
“Yes,” Invictus nodded, “Even as we speak, all five of our fleets are in shadow space near this system. I have to admit, your defense tactics here are quite brilliant, you know. In using the Nova Romans to defend your station and solar array, you put three of us in quite an awkward situation.”
Lucius's eyes widened as he realized what Invictus meant. The Nova Roma agreement with Invictus, Imperious and Lachesis bound them not to attack them. No doubt, that did not protect the United Colonies... but the presence of the Nova Roma ships protecting the United Colonies made it so that the Shadow Lords could not attack. Invictus wanted me to know that, Lucius realized, it wasn't a slip of the tongue or him not realizing I didn't know... for some reason he wanted me to have that information.
“Well,” Lucius said, “It does seem to do the trick nicely.”
“Quite,” Invictus said, his voice droll. “And since Gargant and Sanctus can't trust that we won't become involved if they attack... well, it's quite the situation. Honestly, Gargant doesn't believe you could think of that on your own. He insists that Kandergain must have keyed you into it. Though, I must admit, Reginald's presence puts lie to that. Reginald is far to prim and proper for that level of manipulation.”
“Thank you,” Reginald said with a gracious nod.
“I'm afraid that wasn't a compliment,” Invictus said. “While I appreciate your dedication and determination, you've been playing well out of your league for years. I'd say it was pity that has spared you thus far, but let's be honest, it's more likely the ineptitude of your actions. It's really a good thing that my fellow Shadow Lords are less scheming than I or they'd use you to their own purposes more often.”
“So, now that you've met me and taken my full measure, what other business do you have here?” Lucius asked, hopeful that Reginald wouldn't do anything foolish. The psychic seemed at a loss for words, but the white-knuckled grip he had on his saber suggested his emotions were barely under control.
“Oh, my evaluation is far from complete, Baron Giovanni,” Invictus said. “I think you are a very complex person. Were I to truly want to know your full measure, I would have my servant Madrigal Boetha drag you away to torture for a few decades. You only really know a man when you've found his breaking point, I must say.”
Lucius's eyes narrowed, “We came here as guests.”
“Guests you are,” Invictus said. “And I'll not harm any one of you so long as you behave as proper guests... and as long as you look to fit my goals.” He chuckled a bit, “But I digress. No, I don't wish to take your full measure, Baron. I cultivate mystery... and where would the pleasure be in not leaving you your secrets?”
“I think we're done here,” Lucius said. He was frustrated at the games the man played. Everything he said seemed to have more than one meaning and more than one goal.
“Not quite,” Invictus said. “You have questions, questions about the two men who claim to be your father.” His voice had a hard edge, one that suggested he disapproved of the whole charade.
“Do you have the answers?” Lucius asked.
“I do... but I'm afraid I cannot give them,” Invictus said. “However, should you contact your old Captain, you may find the answers you seek.” Lucius stared at the man, trying to figure out what he'd meant. Most of Lucius's former commanders were dead, either killed in battle with the Chxor or in other actions. The only exception was Admiral Mannetti, but what would she... She mentioned my father, Lucius remembered, insinuated that she worked for him. “Well, it has been a pleasure,” Invictus said. “This little waiting game out in shadow space grew so very tiresome. But, should you find the answer you seek, well, think a bit about why it really matters before you make your decision.”
“That's it?” Lucius asked. “No offers of alliance, no favors demanded?”
“That's far to cumbersome and open for my tastes,” Invictus said. He smiled and his teeth glittered in the shadows, “Far more enjoyable to set a traveler's feet upon a path and to see them follow their course to it's appointed end. Farewell, Baron Giovanni.”
***
Halcyon, Garris Major System
Contested
October 14, 2403
Garret caught the Commodore in his quarters before breakfast. “Good morning, sir,” Garret said. He had wanted to get him earlier, but rumors about Captain Stavros's call and the ensuing argument had spread throughout the War Dogs and word was that the Commodore had been in a vile mood for the past few days as a result. Garret had figured that he should let the Commodore have some time to regain his composure.
Commodore Pierce stared at him with bleary eyes, “Good morning, Captain Penwaithe, is that coffee you have in your hands?”
Garret offered up the cup. The Commodore sniffed at it and sighed with pleasure, “One of these days you'll have to tell me who your suppliers are. Every system we go to you have delicious coffee, uninterrupted no matter how thin our supply situation is.” He peered at Garret with a gimlet eye, “Maybe I should have made you my quartermaster.”
“Maybe, sir,” Garret said with a smile. Then again, Garret would have hated working as a quartermaster. He understood logistics, just as he'd understood his father's political agendas, that didn't mean he liked either one of them. Garret glanced at the Commodore's private quarters while the Commodore sniffed appreciatively. Like most of the ship's quarters, it was tiny and cramped. The Commodore had a single bed, hinged to fold up against the wall and provide more room. He had a narrow desk with an archaic, built-in computer with minimal holographic capabilities. A handful of plaques and trophies hung on the walls, all of them from his time as the commander of the War Dogs. These things were familiar from the other times he had spoken with the Commodore, but Garret remembered the feud that the other man had with the pirate Stavros, and he wondered at the lack of history beyond the War Dogs. His eye caught on a single item on the wall, near the desk. It was a icon or perhaps a family crest, with a motto of some sort written in Latin. Garret couldn't quite make out the details at a glance and he didn't want to stare.
The Commodore took his first sip and smiled with pleasure, “Well, no doubt there is some reason for this fine brew. What can I do for you this fine morning?”
“Well, sir,” Garret said, “I got your message the other night and I looked into what I could find out about the Faraday colony.” The War Dogs didn't have an intelligence officer, Captain Josh Wachope normally covered those duties. He was very busy though, working with the mercenary company's expansion, as the operations officer. Since Commodore Pierce had sent him the message on their encrypted private network, Garret had tried to do his research in a circumspect manner. “I couldn't find a lot of details as far as history, but there is plenty of chatter about current events.”
The Commodore took another sip of the coffee and leaned against his desk. “Go on.” There was something to his voice, almost as if he wasn't certain what he wanted to hear.
“Well, sir, Faraday was a colony much like Halcyon, initially,” Garret said. “Off the books, colonized by folks who wanted to get out and away from Amalgamated Worlds. They went a lot further out, but not as far out as they should have if they wanted to avoid attention forever.” He shrugged, “They got a lot of refugee traffic, had some of the same issues there as anyplace that didn't have active war: flooded with refugees.” Garret took a moment to mentally review what he'd heard about their recent events. “They had some mercenary support, not guild level, just some thugs with guns. I'm not sure what happened, exactly, then, but it sounds like they got 'liberated' by the Chxor. Lost a quarter or more of their population in the occupation. Then some warlord, a Nova Roma officer by the name of Giovanni, came in and kicked the Chxor out, thrashed them pretty good. As far as I can tell, the reason he did so was because he stumbled across information on the Dreyfus Fleet. From what I can tell, he found it, too.”
“Interesting,” The Commodore said. His eyes had narrowed as he thought through the implications.
Garret had spent a good portion of the night doing so himself. The single largest fleet humanity had ever built was now in the hands of some two-bit colony out on the edge of space. The second and third order effects of what the man in charge of it might do were staggering, particularly if he took it into his head to attempt conquest much like Nova Roma had. “Well, the big news after that is that they defeated two major attacks on the system, either one right after the other or at the same time, I'm not sure of the details. One by the Chxor and the other by the Balor. The rumors are that they destroyed at least one Balor dreadnought.”
Commodore Pierce's eyebrows went up in surprise. To date, the human race as a whole had managed to defeat only one of the Balor's major pushes. That battle had been extremely costly, with something over half a million personnel killed in the fighting and losses so severe amidst the Colonial Republic forces that the entire power structure had shifted virtually overnight. “Really... what has this Giovanni done since then?”
“Apparently he's not a very good dictator,” Garret said dryly. “Faraday formed what they are calling the United Colonies, which seems pretty grandiose, since they apparently have all of three or four planets in two or three systems. They're allied with some Nova Roma elements, who claim to be following their Emperor and they're fighting the Chxor.”
“Hmm, so my contact was right,” the tone that the Commodore used suggested that he wasn't sure what he thought about that.
“Well, if he keyed you in on Faraday, then he definitely knew what he was doing,” Garret said with a scowl. “Remember those warheads we transferred for that raid that Admiral Mannetti led?”
“Yes,” Commodore Pierce said. “And I remember we charged them extra for that.” His tone was one of suspicion.
“Well, we should have charged them more,” Garret said flatly. “There was a raid there at Faraday by 'unknown' Colonial Republic vessels. I'm not sure of the exact details, but they apparently attacked a civilian station and some other orbital infrastructure, before withdrawing. I checked the timing, it matches one of the shorter routes to and from Faraday with when that raid went out.”
The Commodore swore savagely, “And they used our missiles for it.”
“Worse, sir,” Garret said, “I'm betting that they used a mix of the Colonial Republic stocks and ours, that would be the best tactic. And you know how bad their missile maintenance was, I'd be surprised if these United Colonies people didn't have at least one or two missiles that failed during the attack. They can probably track those back to this system if they do a thorough analysis of the components.”
The Commodore grimaced. “This gets better and better.” He looked down at his coffee as if regretful that it was such delicious roast that he couldn't spit it in disgust. “So Admiral Mannetti is trying to get us engaged with a nation that has the Dreyfus Fleet at its disposal...” He frowned, “And they're allied with the Nova Romans. There's got to be more, there, as far as her priorities, but that's not essential right now.” The Commodore turned to his desk and brought up a display on his computer. “This is another bit of leverage, I think. I wouldn't be surprised if what she has planned is to use the threat of them to push Halcyon closer to her or to get them to give her what she wants.”
“That's some of what I was thinking myself, sir,” Garret said. Actually, his thoughts were of the smoldering wreckage that the Dreyfus Fleet would leave of his homeworld if Mannetti succeeded in getting them to attack. One more reason to oppose her, Garret thought.
“Well,” the Commodore said. “As I understand it, you were invited to visit your family, right?”
Garret winced. He really didn't want to have some awkward meeting with his estranged brother. “I suppose so, sir.”
The Commodore chuckled, “Well, take that cute young ensign of yours and go meet your nephews. Try to mend some bridges with your family... and try to get them thinking about alternatives to Mannetti or at least thinking about insurance policies against her.”
Garret grimaced, “I'm not sure I'm the best person to try that.”
“You've got the best chance, believe it or not,” Commodore Pierce said. “Your ex-girlfriend may come off like she hates you but she wouldn't get that angry if she didn't feel anything for you anymore. Try an olive branch. Do whatever you have to do. Hell, if we could turn your brother against Mannetti that would give us something here. If we can't get anything, she'll leave Halcyon in a pile of smoking rubble.”
***
Garret stepped out of the taxi and then held out a hand for Abigail. She stuck out her tongue at him and hopped out on her own. Garret sighed and passed the cab driver a pair of scrip bills. “Thanks, and keep the change.”
He turned away and looked up at the impressive house and then around at the well-groomed grounds around it. It was on one of the few spots of flat land near the summit of one of the peaks looking out over New Telluride. The view was absolutely breathtaking, but the manicured lawn and topiary was a sharp contrast to the rugged peaks. It was, he felt, a bit ostentatious for his own tastes. Then again, since his brother was in politics, he probably had to entertain guests of various types. Or else he's just like father and he enjoys this sort of thing, Garret thought.
Abigail gave a low whistle, “Looks like your dad's place.”
“You haven't been here?” Garret asked, surprised. Jessica had always been close to her family. He would have imagined that they, especially her younger sister, would have all but moved in with her.
Abigail shrugged and smoothed her sun dress, “Jessica came by the house some, especially with her boys... but she never asked us up here. Mom said she actually asked us to not come up, not unless we were invited.”
Garret felt a wooden expression form on his face. That kind of attitude sounded far too much like his father for his liking. He didn't know what had happened or why, but it sounded as if Jessica had somehow fallen into the position that his father had tried to put him in.
He forced himself to smile, “Well, we've been invited, let's see what there is to see, eh?”
She gave him a shy smile and Garret had to remind himself, not for the first time, that she was almost a decade younger than him... and his ex-girlfriend's little sister no less. Hell, he thought, she's my sister-in-law.
He extended his arm to her, even so and after she took it, he walked her up to the front door and knocked. As expected, a doorman opened it a moment later. “Yes?”
“Please inform Mister and Misses Penwaithe that Garret Penwaithe is here to see them,” Garret said formally. He hated how easy it was to fall back on his formal behavior. It had served him well as an officer in the War Dogs, but here it felt strangling, like he'd tied his tie too tight.
“Of course,” the doorman said as he stepped back. “You are expected, if you'll wait here, I'll inform them of your presence.”
Garret led Abigail into the foyer. She let out another incongruous whistle at the marble floor and grand staircase and balustrade. Garret's eyebrows went up, however, at the family portraits along the staircase. In some ways, it was a mirror of his own childhood, with the immediate family first, rising up in age... yet the portraits cut off after his mother's. There was no picture of his father, nor their grandparents. Among the upper-class families, that was tantamount to saying that they were dead to them. If his father's portrait wasn't here, maybe Garret had misjudged his brother a bit. Then again, Garret thought, there's no portrait of me hanging around either.
“Auntie Abigail!” A shrill voice shouted. A moment later a young boy darted out of a side corridor and almost tackled Abigail in a hug. The boy suddenly noticed Garret and he stepped back, surprise on his face. He almost hid behind Abigail, eyes wide. He was tall for his age, Garret would guess, at over a meter in height. He had skin the color of coffee with cream and dark brown eyes with curly dark hair to match.
“Garth,” Abigail said, “This is your father's brother, Garret. He's your uncle.”
“Really?” the boy asked. He had an expression of doubt on his face, as if already used to the idea of mistrusting adults and authority. Good on him, Garret thought.
“I am,” Garret said with a nod, just as the door behind him opened.
“Garth, get over here,” Jessica said, her voice at once protective and at the same time almost defensive. Garret snorted to see the hangdog expression on the boy's face, but he didn't miss how quickly he moved to obey.
Garret turned and gave Jessica a nod. Her attention, however, was drawn to her sister and she wore an expression somewhere between a scowl and a frown.
“Hey sis,” Abigail said cheerfully. “Garret said you invited him and I hadn't seen the munchkins in ages, so when he invited me as his guest, I couldn't say no.”
Jessica sighed and the look she leveled on Garret spoke volumes. “I'd be a lot happier if I didn't know the reason you aren't able to see them as much.”
“Aw, sis, the War Dogs are almost like family, you know? I mean, they took the contract without pay until we could afford them and they're totally cool, they are recruiting people from here to beef up their company. There's even talk about seeing if they can set up some kind of permanent base here!”
“I know,” Jessica said sourly.
“Well,” Garret said, eager to change the subject. “We aren't here to talk about all that, right?” Beyond her, he saw a library, much like the one he remembered from his childhood. Granted, Harris had always been the bookish one, while Garret had gone out and gotten in trouble more often than not.
On cue, his brother walked out of his office. He stood, not far away with a mixed expression on his face. His skin was a few shades lighter than Garret's own black as coffee shade, clearly he still spent a lot of time indoors at his desk or in meetings. He was just as tall as Garret, but lighter in frame and without the years of muscle that hard work had given Garret. Finally Harris just gave him a nod, “Brother.” It was not the warm hug that Garret could privately admit he would have wanted. Neither, though, was it the angry accusations of abandonment that he had feared.
“Harris,” Garret said with a nod. For some reason, he felt his throat close up a bit. He cleared it and gave a polite smile. “So, how's things?”
Some dark emotion flashed over his brother's face. He looked, for a moment, as if he wanted to start shouting those accusations. Instead, he finally just shrugged, “Complicated, as always.”
Jessica had a frazzled look on her face, but she spoke up, quickly, “Let's take this out back, shall we? Garth and Henry can play and we can... catch up.” Garret only then noticed his other nephew, Henry. The boy, much like his father at that age, had a book tucked in his hands and his nose practically buried in it, even as he stood there behind his mother.
“That sounds great,” Abigail said. “Hey, munchkins, I'll race you outside!” Jessica managed a smile as Garth and Abigail raced for the back door, with Henry following at a more moderate pace. Jessica followed them, while Garret waited as his brother walked up and paused on the threshold of the library.
“It's been a while,” Harris said.
“Yeah,” Garret answered. He thought about all the diatribes he had practiced on late nights on distant worlds. Finally, he shrugged, “Sorry.” It seemed inadequate, a sort of generic apology, not even for what he'd done and said, but simply for not being around.
Harris snorted, “You're a damned liar. But I'll accept it anyway.”
***
Out on the back porch, the house seemed far less ostentatious. His brother had a secluded area, screened by trees, for a patch of lawn and a barbeque pit. The area looked a lot more rugged than the manicured front area. While Abigail and Garth horsed around, Henry sat on a rock and read, and Garret, Harris and Jessica sat at a table. Harris finally said, “It's been interesting times since you left.” He pulled some beers out of a refrigerator tucked under the table and passed one each to Garret and Jessica.
“So I heard,” Garret said as he popped the top. He grimaced a bit at the sour hoppy flavor. His brother's taste in beer hadn't changed a bit.
Jessica laughed, “Clearly, Garret's been off-world, he's lost his taste for good beer.”
Garret smiled at that, “Never had a taste for this stuff, anyway, though both of you always did. I just smiled and drank it because I didn't want to stand out.” It seemed to him that, looking back, much of his younger life had been that way.
Harris shook his head, “No accounting for taste.” He took a long pull of his own beer and sighed contentedly. “Anyway, you've probably heard what happened with father after the business with Nova Corp went public.” Garret just nodded. “Well, Joseph Monaghan came out of it all as the only one who wasn't in someone's pocket... and I threw my support behind him. He won the elections by a landslide and his party has had control of the government ever since.”
“Father couldn't have been happy about that,” Garret said cautiously.
“At that point, I really didn't care,” Harris said. “He... well, let's just say he wasn't happy with me anyway.” Garret didn't miss the look of affection on Jessica's face... or the way she squeezed his hand in support. They must have married against his wishes, Garret realized. Suddenly the estrangement seemed to take on a new light. If his brother really loved Jessica and his father had put his foot down, Garret could understand entirely too well the reaction his brother would have had. Let's face it, Garret thought sadly, it was half the reason I ran off... because I couldn't stand to live here and not have her.
“Well, things have shaken out fairly well. Joe Monaghan has managed to play Nova Corp and President Salazar off one another and get us a bit of freedom, particularly a few sources of income, both in tourism and then later with a small merchant fleet,” Harris said. He looked off in the distance, “We were going for a long game plan, but then Salazar made some kind of deal with Nova Corp and suddenly they were in here with their goons, shutting down businesses and paying in their company scrip. We saw the way it was going. We had some options then and we called in some favors, got Admiral Mannetti and Admiral Collae both on our sides... but we knew we couldn't trust them. So we hired you.”
“You hired the War Dogs,” Garret corrected with a slight smile.
“No...” Jessica said softly, “We hired you.”
Garret froze, beer halfway to his mouth. “Wait... I could imagine that you knew I was in the War Dogs, but you couldn't have hired them just because I was there.”
“Oh,” Harris waved a hand, “We knew they had a good reputation, even for guild mercs. We knew that we'd be getting what we paid for... and that they'd be loyal enough to us.” He glanced at Jessica who squeezed his hand again. “But we were looking long term. Yes, we wanted a loyal and capable element to support us. But we also wanted someone with military experience... the experience to command our own forces.”
“What?” Garret asked, shocked. He looked between the pair of them. “You can't be serious. I walked out of here... walked out on both of you, ten years ago. Why would you even think I would be what you needed... that I would even be capable no less?” His voice raised and he saw Abigail look up from where she and Garth played.
“I've tracked your record,” Harris said quietly, with a glance at his two boys. “You may have turned your back on us... but that didn't mean you weren't family. Hell, did you think I argued with you about leaving so much because I didn't agree with you?” He shook his head, “We had to change things and we have a bit, but we have a lot more to do here, I'm well aware of that.” He sighed, “But while you stayed away, we knew you hadn't given up on the values that made you leave. You still care about people, still fight to make the universe a better place. Hell, you signed up with the company with the highest ethical rating in Tannis's Mercenary Guild!”
Garret looked away. He wanted to explain that it was business ethics, that he still killed people for money... yet he didn't want to see disappointment in their eyes, either. “So what exactly are you saying?”
“We want you to step in as our overall force commander, probably in a few years as our secretary of defense, though that will be a toss up between whether we need you to command in battle or prepare and train our forces.”
Garret shook his head. In some ways, the plan reminded him of his father's machinations... in others, it sounded far too optimistic, without the decades of jaded political favor trading and ambition. “I... I can't just quit, you know, even assuming I wanted to do so. I'm signed up for the duration of this contract, at least, and another couple extra years, besides.”
“We understand that, Garret,” Jessica said. “But we also know that your commander could cut you loose, if you asked. And this kind of offer is not one that comes every day. Dammit, Garret, we need you.”
Her words echoed their final conversation, a decade ago, and a wash of pain went through him as he remembered her tear-filled eyes as he had turned away. He nodded slowly, “I can see that. Still, it's not a decision I can make lightly.” Under the War Dogs, he could rise high, perhaps even taking over an independent command as the company continued to expand. I could retire, he thought, no responsibilities, no worries, and all by myself... no friends, no family, and utterly alone. Garret would never have considered himself the kids in the backyard and barbeque type, but just now, seeing Jessica and his brother... it gave him pause.
“We don't want you to rush into it,” Jessica said softly. “This isn't a small decision. For that matter, we'd like you to get more combat experience. We're going to place one of the privateer squadrons under your command.”
Garret remembered his ulterior motive for coming. “What is it you aren't telling me?” He looked between them and saw masks settle over both their faces. “You've got something over Admiral Mannetti and Admiral Collae. Collae might back something like this from the standpoint of building an ally up, but Mannetti is a pirate. She's not into charity or goodwill, she's got a bottom line.”
Harris pursed his lips and shot a glance at Jessica that Garret couldn't read. Neither answered him for a long moment. The sound of Garth and Abigail laughing seemed incongruous with the serious expressions Harris and Jessica.
“Look, at least tell me that it's secure,” Garret asked. “It's got to be something physical or some kind of information she needs. Please tell me you have someone competent in charge of protecting it.” He almost laid out all his cards, asked them straight out about Brokenjaw Mountain, but he didn't want to push them too far.
“It is secure, more secure than you might believe,” Jessica said softly. “And it will stay that way... even if we might wish otherwise.” She looked, for a moment, as if she felt like she had said too much.
“The full answer,” Harris said, “will have to wait until we are absolutely certain we can trust you...”
Garret scowled, “You offer me command of your military forces but you don't trust me enough to tell me about whatever this is? This feels all kinds of dangerous... and trust me, with people like Mannetti and Collae, there's no such thing as too secure.” He sighed, “But I'll accept your answer and I'll think about your offer.”
“Good,” Harris said.
“One more thing, Garret,” Jessica said, her voice light. Garret heard the solid steel under the silk glove though, “If you get my little sister killed, I swear to you, no matter where you run, no matter what you do, no matter how essential you are to our plans, I'll kill you myself.”
Garret's gaze went over to where the cheerful young woman played with his nephew. She glanced over her shoulder, as if she sensed his gaze and gave him a merry smile and wave. Garret sighed, “I promise you, Jessica, that I'll do everything I can to keep her alive. That said, she's a big girl, she makes her own decisions.”
“Well,” Harris said into the icy silence that followed. “Garret, have you caught yourself up on the lacrosse teams, yet? New Texas still insists they have the best team...”
***
Faraday
United Colonies
October 19, 2403
Lucius stood as the Emperor of Nova Roma stepped into the conference room. “Thank you for coming to this meeting, your Highness,” Lucius said politely. He gave a nod to Admiral Mund and even managed a civil nod at Admiral Balventia.
“Of course,” Emperor Romulus IV said. “Though I must admit I wanted to speak to you on another subject.”
“We wish to begin rear area raids against the Chxor, immediately,” Admiral Balventia said brusquely. “We feel the Dreyfus Fleet is too slow to keep pressure on the Chxor, we need to push at their stress lines and multiply their issues. Destruction of their supply convoys would make their defense tenuous.”
Lucius winced, “I applaud the idea. However, some information we have just learned has suggested that would cause us all rather more issues than you might realize.”
Admiral Balventia grimaced, “I realize that you wish to maintain security of this system, however, even a light force could secure the perimeter and prevent anyone from ascertaining that our forces have withdrawn for long enough that you could return some of your own forces to secure the system.”
Lucius looked over at Kate Bueller and Reginald. Kate spoke up, “There is an issue with that. It has to do with our newest visitor.”
At the looks of confusion from the Emperor and his two advisers, Lucius said, “Shadow Lord Invictus gave us a bit more information for the puzzle. Apparently there are currently five Shadow Lord fleets in shadow space, just outside the system. They're all prepared to attack, to gut the support structure of the Dreyfus Fleet and eliminate the threat that we pose to them. The only thing holding them back, apparently, is the agreement that your great-grandfather made with them. That makes your fleet inviolate to three of them... and would force them to not only avoid attacking but to attack Shadow Lords Gargant and Sanctus if they attack.”
“What?” The Emperor demanded, “But that's absurd. Why would they find themselves bound to that at this point? We can't possibly uphold our end.”
“Not at this moment, but your family has upheld their end for the past eighty years,” Reginald said. “And the Shadow Lords are bound by their own sense of honor. If they violate that, their own followers would turn on them.”
“Could Invictus be lying, trying to deceive us?” Emperor Romulus IV asked uncertainly. The tone of his voice suggested he really didn't want to be stuck in the system. Lucius couldn't blame him. The man had driven his crews hard to bring them up to a fighting standard. In Lucius's opinion, they could use a few months of additional training and workup, but he also understood their desire to get back into the action.
“He's almost certainly trying to manipulate us,” Lucius said confidently. “From what I understand, that's his method of operation. However, since we were his invited guests, he was required by his own code to speak to us honestly. He couldn't lie about the five fleets or the agreement... he wanted us to know about what is protecting us, so that we could use it against his true enemies: the other Shadow Lords.”
“That seems rather petty,” Emperor Romulus IV said. “He's maintaining this standoff to hurt the others, but your survival can't work in his favor.”
“Spiteful is something that all the Shadow Lords are by definition, your Highness,” Reginald said with a nod of emphasis. “Invictus might be doing this from just the amusement of his fellow's frustration... or he might be doing it to keep them distracted. He told us five fleets were out there... but he didn't say how much of his fleet was present. It could very easily be that Invictus told us this because we continue to distract the others while his forces are free to operate unopposed by them elsewhere.”
“That's... devious,” Emperor Romulus IV said softly. He looked at Admiral Mund, “But that essentially keeps our forces pinned here.”
“It would,” Admiral Mund said. “Our initial deployment plans were to send out large raids to hit some of the Chxor convoys and infrastructure. Assuming that the Shadow Lords view our main fleet as the preventative measure... well, then we can't pull enough forces out of that without making the raider units too small.”
“Agreed,” Admiral Balventia said with narrow eyes. He glared at Lucius, as if certain that this must be some false threat, engineered to deny him his chance to prove his skills once more.
“Very well,” Emperor Romulus said with a sigh, “Then I must ask that you step up your preparations to attack again, Baron. We must not let the Chxor continue with their preparations.”
“Agreed,” Lucius said. He glanced at his own civilian advisers, “Which is why I'm leaving in the morning to rejoin the Dreyfus Fleet... aboard a Nova Roma vessel, if you would be so gracious as to assist, your Highness.”
“Why...” the Emperor frowned, “Oh, so that the Shadow Lords would hesitate to attack you en route. Yes, I think I can assist.”
“Sir,” Kate said, somewhat frantically, “You can't leave with everything going on here. What am I supposed to do about your... about both the men who claim to be your father?” The note of panic in her voice was almost amusing.
“I think I'll have to agree with our Foreign Minister,” President Sara Cassin said. “Even to deal with the ambassador, we would almost certainly need you. To deal with the one from Shadow Lord Imperious we definitely need you and your expertise.” The woman had a harsh frown, almost as if she thought Lucius were avoiding his responsibilities and gallivanting off to war. In some ways, Lucius thought, I suppose I am... I really need to spend more time here, very soon it will be time to retire my military command. The thought made him ache. He had never sought political power... only to command in battle, a skill in which he at least felt confident of success.
Lucius shook his head, “No, madame President, you don't need me here to deal with them... with either of them.” He shook his head, “The thing that has bothered me about the pair from their arrival is that the dramatics of their reveal was designed to put me off balance. You don't do that kind of thing if you are bargaining in good faith, you do it if you want to put the other person at a disadvantage.”
“What are you saying?” she asked.
“I'm saying that neither of them is my father,” Lucius said. “And we're going to say that, publicly and openly.” He looked at Kate, “I want you to put the Iodans on it. They're smart enough with biology that I'm sure they can find something out of place. Have them prove that both of them are imposters. Keep them both talking until then. Don't commit to anything, but make it appear that we want what they're offering.” He wished he had thought to get the Iodans involved earlier, but the odd aliens had mostly withdrawn to the Zeta Tau system, other than a small contingent here on Faraday to serve as their representatives.
Kate frowned, “But that's not operating in good faith. Leading them on diplomatically, it's deception that they can make public if they're wanting a reason to attack.” She seemed inordinately concerned about that, in Lucius's opinion.
“Shadow Lord Imperious couldn't care less about public opinion,” Lucius said. “As for the Centauri, well, that's why we're going to prove they didn't bargain in good faith, first. The embarrassment should be enough to make them back down. If it doesn't... we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. The thing to remember, Imperious will attack or control us if he can and the Centauri Confederation is already at war on multiple fronts. They can't afford another war if they can't get their own people behind it. The important thing is: we already have our allies,” Lucius looked right at the Emperor as he said that. “We will not throw them to the wolves because someone else comes along.” At his words, the Emperor stood a little straighter, Admiral Mund gave a confident nod, and even Valens Balventia looked a bit less sour.
“But,” Alicia Nix asked, “you're assuming the Iodans can prove that one or both of them are fake. Or that my people could, for that matter. What if one of them is genuine?” She looked worried, as if he had put their entire strategy upon her shoulders, which he had, in a way.
Lucius shook his head, “Let me make this as clear as I can. I don't doubt that the Iodans can find some discrepancy, something wrong, really, anything that we can weight with enough attention to prove that they lied and therefore we have no choice but to reject both offers of alliance.”
“Wait, you're saying that even if they can't find enough to prove it... we need to say it is enough?” Kate asked. “That's... well, I guess that would work.” Her face took on a thoughtful expression as she contemplated how to approach it from that perspective.
“We're going to lie?” President Sara Cassin asked uncomfortably.
“You're going to lie about your own family?” Admiral Balventia said, almost at the same time. “How could you do that to your own blood?” His expression was disgusted.
Lucius looked between them, his expression solemn. “I have a strong bond to my family... to my daughter and to my sister.” He sighed, “Regardless of who those two men are genetically... they came here in support of plans to cause me emotional trauma with the intent to rush me into a decision regarding the safety and prosperity of a nation that has selected me as their leader.” Lucius felt a hard mask fall over his face. “I do not like being manipulated, especially not by someone who claims family ties to me. I especially do not like it when they represent powers that would see the people I have defended reduced to powerless vassals at best... and slaves at worst.” He met the President's eyes, “If either one of them was my actual father... then he has forsworn those ties in trying to deceive and betray me.”
President Cassin slowly nodded. A look at Valens Balventia showed a mix of emotions, too complex to figure out. At least he didn't reject everything I said out of hand, Lucius thought. “In the meantime,” Lucius said to Kate, “our priority must be to secure our own system and to build alliances with those who seemed willing. If we have any serious offers to join, we can begin working that, but keep it quiet.” He sighed, “What I want is to announce it all at once, the good, the bad... all of it. If nothing else, it will cause our enemies to hesitate, to take time to consider.” Lucius brought up a star map and highlighted three systems. “This information does not leave this room, am I understood?” His gaze swept the men and women in the briefing room. Slowly, each of them, even Admiral Balventia, gave him a nod.
“I'm going to change our assault timeline. We're hitting the Chxor almost as soon as I get back to Melcer. My goal is to liberate the Nova Roma system within the next ninety days. As a part of that, we have to seize Danar within the next month.” That was the important part. They could do without Tehran, but they had to take Danar. As Anthony Doko had said it was the key.
“Finally!” Emperor Romulus IV said.
“Why so soon?” President Cassin asked uncomfortably.
Lucius looked over at Kate, “That's how long I want to draw out our discussions, both with the Centauri Confederation and with the other emissaries. At that point, I want things finalized. Make it clear to them that we need to know where people stand... with us or against us.”
“Some of these emissaries are from a very long way away,” Kate said. Lucius was certain she was thinking of the Shogun's envoy. For that matter, Lucius knew that the Shogun could be a very valuable ally. Then again, having dealt with Mike Noguchi before, Lucius knew that the man was both dangerously capable and extremely intelligent. The Shogun would have sent him with enough independence to make compromises.
“I know,” Lucius said. “But I'm certain that either they've been given enough leeway to bargain or that we probably couldn't bring them around to our side without any big display.” He turned to meet President Cassin's worried face, “The reason I'm breaking it down, us and them, is not for conquest or attack. We're going to need support, because at that point we will be at our point of furthest extension.”
“You'll be at your weakest,” Admiral Valens Balventia said thoughtfully.
“Exactly,” Lucius said, with a nod at the other man. He hoped the thoughtfulness was due to realizing how much Lucius trusted the Emperor and not from some suddenly hatched plan to stab the United Colonies in the back. Cross that bridge when we come to it as well, Lucius thought. “The Dreyfus Fleet represents a huge combat force, but it is condensed, with the vast majority of its firepower and sustained combat ability in the form of its Crusader-class vessels. The rest would work well to occupy, at most, one or two systems and to perform a fighting retreat against any kind of serious assault from one of our major enemies.”
Admiral Mund nodded slowly, “The Chxor, the Balor, and the Shadow Lords, each of them could muster enough forces to defeat not only them but what we have marshaled here.”
“Exactly,” Lucius said. Though, privately, he added the Centauri Confederation and the Tau Ceti Separatists to that list. Either of those two nations certainly had the manpower and given his suspicions about the nature of their conflict, he suspected they could free up the forces for such an attack.
“At that point, our enemies will have the most to gain from an attack as well,” Lucius said. “They could seize Nova Roma, the Dreyfus Fleet, and even the Balor ships we've captured but not been able to repair,” Lucius said. “The United Colonies becomes the best target at that point... and our enemies have to know it.”
“Why adjust the times, then?” President Cassin asked.
“Because it will throw their preparations off, if they have them,” Kate said. “It matches some of the Centauri behavior too, they're building a story, an agenda, and I wouldn't be too surprised if it matches when they expect you to launch your final assault on Nova Roma.”
“Right,” Lucius said. He took a deep breath. “Now, all of you, and only you, know the actual plans. I'm going to personally brief Admiral Dreyfus and select members of his staff. No one else is going to have the full picture. We need to keep this very close, we simply cannot let this get out. Given transit times, any scouts will see us launch our various attacks, they can estimate from there, but unless they have a force present, they can't act.”
“What about the Shadow Lords, do we just trust that they will hold, even if it looks like we'll take back Nova Roma?” Emperor Romulus IV asked.
Alicia Nix spoke up, “I've run some analysis, based off of food and fuel expenditures. Even with refuel and resupply vessels, they can't stay on station much longer. My guess is that they'll start to withdraw forces within the next sixty days. Given the... unique method of their resupply and the fact that they have lost their main supplier in Nova Roma, I estimate that they can't afford to keep their fleets stationary for that period of time, not without weakening themselves so that one or another will attempt a surprise attack.”
“They will indubitably turn upon one another if even one of them seems weakened or overextended,” Reginald said. “It is their nature, they are so given to their feuds at this point that even the fragile balance they have now cannot long last.”
His comment met with silence and Lucius spoke before anyone else could think of some other reason their plan couldn't work. As if I need them to add to the running list I've got in my head, Lucius thought dryly. “Very well. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your time.” Now the easy part... I just need to pull this off, Lucius thought, and key to that is seizing Danar.
***
Garris Major System
Contested
October 19, 2403
Reese couldn't tell much, through the bag over his head, but it seemed like his captors had finally reached their destination. He heard the muffled thumps as their ship docked. A moment later, the low conversation between his two guards cut off as the hatch opened. Maybe this wasn't the best idea, Reese thought to himself.
“Well, well, well,” a woman's light voice said. “What have we here?”
Someone ripped the bag off Reese's head.
He found himself staring into the eyes of Lucretta Mannetti. Reese felt a wave of relief wash over him. He gave her a smile and nodded his head, “Lady Kail, pardon my rudeness of not rising to properly greet you, but I'm a bit tied up.”
Despite herself, she gave a sharp laugh, “Ah, ever so charming, Reese.” She shook her head, “And what brings Lucius Giovanni's brother-in-law to meet with me?”
Reese gave a slight shrug, “I see that, whoever your informant is, he doesn't keep you updated on everything.” He took a deep breath, “I'm his former brother-in-law.” He couldn't help a bitter twist to his lips. “Alanis decided to choose her brother over her own damned husband.”
“Ah...” Lucretta Mannetti smirked, “No vengeance like a man made a fool of. Tell me, did you try to dominate her, to bend her to your will?”
Reese shook his head, “Nothing like that!” He could admit that his tactics had been unorthodox, but he hadn't hit her, threatened her, or even implied that he would. Well, not until she revealed her true nature, Reese thought darkly. “She wanted to...” he trailed off as he realized criticizing her desire to pursue a military occupation would not be the best form with this particular audience. “Lucius manipulated her into joining the Academy, after we had decided to start a family.”
“Oh,” Lucretta asked. She pulled up a chair to set across from him. “How scandalous.”
Reese looked away. “Look, she made her choice. Lucius spat upon the relationship he and I had. He refused to change his mind. He even had some trumped up charges put on me, so I can't get a job anywhere. The important thing, here, is that I can give you information on him. I can supply you with codes, frequencies, I even left back doors into some of his military systems. This would give you access that even a high level informant can't.”
“You can give me all of that?” Lucretta Mannetti said. “How marvelous.” She leaned forward in her chair, her voice soft and almost seductive, “Why don't I just take it from you and flush your corpse out the nearest airlock?”
Reese found it suddenly hard to swallow. “Because I have other skills. I'm a damned fine programmer, I'm a skilled hacker, I know computer networks inside and out. I guarantee you won't have anyone better.”
She sat back and her dark eyes went narrow as she considered what he had said. “Alright, Reese. I might even have a job for you... but you'll need to prove yourself, first.” She smiled, “How do you feel about a life of piracy?”
Reese smiled a bit, “Never considered it before, how are the benefits?”
***
Ottokar System
Colonial Republic
October 27, 2403
Mason looked up as the countdown ended and the gray nothingness of shadow space was replaced by the brilliant, star-studded sweep of space. As always, the stars gave Mason a feeling of warmth and welcome, brilliant beacons that gave life to countless worlds. He wondered if the stars thought, in their long eons of life, or if they dreamed as they slowly burned out. The stars, Mason thought, probably don't have nightmares about people they've killed.
At that thought, Lauren spoke up, “Captain Stavros, we've emerged a bit off course. I think Commodore Martindale needs to have her navigational computer checked or she's a terrible navigator.” Her voice was sour, which made Mason hide a smile. It wasn't so long ago that she wouldn't have even been able to find their location, much less talk down on a poor bit of navigation.
As he checked his own sensors, he realized there was less source of humor than he originally thought. They were well off course, “You're right,” Mason said and he put some of Stavros's sneer into his voice, “She's a terrible navigator.” The original plan was for them to drop out of shadow well out of sensor range of the planet and then to use stellar debris in the system's periphery to draw close to the mining colony.
Mason still wasn't very clear on what the goal of hitting the Nova Corp mining colony was, but it apparently had the people of Halcyon very excited, in particular. They'd appointed 'Commodore' Martindale to head the first wave of the attack. Martindale was one of the other captains recruited from Port Klast by Admiral Mannetti, she already commanded a pair of destroyers and an old Matador-class cruiser. After five minutes of putting up with 'Stavros' she had icily informed him to limit communications to essential traffic only.
Another glance at the sensor feeds confirmed his suspicions. They had not only emerged well off course, but actually deep inside the system, well within the sensor radius of the inhabited planet, New Swabia. Since the entire system was under the military command of the Colonial Republic base at Czeska, there was, of course, a patrol base there. Who have definitely noticed our arrival, Mason thought dryly. He opened a channel to Commodore Martindale's ship, the Sabine. “Commodore, I believe that we are slightly off course. Was this, perhaps, some effort to lure the Republic Liberation Fleet ships out of position for an attack on New Swabia?”
“Thank you, Stavros,” Martindale's voice was harsh. “I noticed. I want you to adjust course, and come to heading seven three five at full acceleration.”
Mason bit his lip. That course would take them in a direct course for the Nova Corp mining colony. If the RLF commander had no vested interest, he wouldn't have reason to chase them. But Counselor Penwaithe of Halcyon's Defense Force had told them that the local commander was on the payroll. He would almost certainly give chase.
Still, Stavros wouldn't have cared. For that matter, Stavros would shut his mouth while the woman made the mistake and then harp about it later. And at the same time, Mason thought, there is such a thing as taking a role too far. “Commodore Martindale, the patrol there at New Swabia is on Nova Corp's payroll. They'll know we're headed for the mining colony and at that speed, they could be in position to pincer our force between them and the Nova Corp defenses.”
“Damn you, Stavros, I know that. But we have a mission to do and if you don't want your share of the loot, you can shut your pie-hole,” Martindale said.
“We would be better off withdrawing and then coming in a few days late, rather than hitting the defenses straight on. If nothing else,” Mason said, “think of the people and ships you'll lose.”
Martindale gave a harsh laugh, “Sounds like Stavros lost his nerve. You have your orders.”
Mason clamped his mouth shut on what he wanted to say. No point to it now, he thought, she's committed and if she backs down, her people will know it. He took a deep breath, “I suppose it's just too much for your feeble mind to take in, Martindale. But I'll follow your orders, just as you put them.” He nodded over at Kandergain, “Full acceleration, but adjust our course so that it matches targets.”
Lauren looked up from her spot at the weapons control station. Mason sighed, “The dumb bitch,” Mason said, putting more of Stavros into his voice, “plotted the course with her ship's maximum acceleration.”
“Yes, Captain,” Kandergain said. She typed in updates to their course as the other three ships went to full acceleration on the plotted course. A moment later, the new course came up on his screen. “Ready, sir.”
Mason glanced at it and gave a nod, it was a sharp, least-time course. They would arrive several hours before the Commodore. “Full acceleration on that course,” Mason said with a smirk.
“Stavros, damn you, what the hell are you doing–”
“Activate jamming, full spectrum,” Mason said, “we wouldn't want the enemy getting any warnings out to the mining colony, would we?” He outwardly chuckled, even as he inwardly coldly considered how many people were about to die. A glance at the RLF ships showed that they had gone to full acceleration as well and their ships were in better shape and had better acceleration parameters than 'Commodore' Martindale's. The six destroyers and two cruisers adjusted their course and Mason could do the math as well or better than Martindale. Evidently, the commander realized he couldn't stop the Kraken, or even hope to catch it. He could, however, hit Martindale's force well before it reached the mining colony. Kandergain stepped up next to Mason and asked in a quiet voice, “Leaving them to their fates?”
Mason smiled lightly at her, “I'm just following orders. She said to make for the target at full acceleration.” Inside he seethed, but at the same time he couldn't show weakness in front of the crew or they'd start to question his Stavros routine. He could have stayed with Martindale, but he wasn't sure enough about the Kraken's capabilities when pincered between the two forces.
Given her orders, he could say that he did what he thought she wanted. Given how it looked like the fight would go, he would have felt more sympathy, except Martindale and her people were pirates. Worse than that, he thought, they're incompetent pirates.
The distance drew out and he watched as Martindale's ships formed up. Given his own maneuvers, he wasn't surprised to see the pair of destroyers edge a bit forward, and then to break formation entirely. He did scowl a bit as the Sabine went to active radar. “She's trying to target her ships that are running,” he said.
Sure enough, both destroyers began evasive maneuvers and jamming of their own. Mason watched with interest, also, as first one, then the other went to shadow. A few minutes later, so did 'Commodore' Martindale's cruiser Sabine. “Hmm, what was it she said about running?”
Kandergain looked at him with a worried expression, “Joking aside, Captain, it's now just one cruiser against both the defenses and the system's patrol force.”
“Not to worry, not with Stavros at the helm,” Mason said with a leer. Really, this had worked out better than he had hoped. This would get the fewest people killed. While he felt some sympathy for the Republic Liberation Fleet personnel in pursuit... well, he wasn't going to chase them down when they ran. “Well, in the absence of orders, best to take charge. Lauren, order the Falkes to prep for battle.” He brought up his own navigational console and plotted a course. “Execute reverse acceleration and adjust course to heading five seven three.”
“That's right back at them!” Mark Mendoza said from communications.
“Of course it is,” Mason said. “Admiral Mannetti's force is inbound to the mining colony and will arrive soon. We'll need to rout this lot and then go back and clear the defenses. Then we can welcome the good Admiral in style.” Mason paused and grunted, “Order the Falkes to switch loads to dazzlers.” Dazzlers were missiles that had electromagnetic warheads rather than nuclear or heavy explosive. They were used mostly to knock out systems on merchant ships, but a full volley could blind a warship or knock out its engines without causing severe damage to the vessel. They were also extremely expensive, but Stavros wouldn't care and Mason wasn't in this for the money anyway.
“Are you serious?” Asara Khemali asked. The pinch-faced woman was the squadron commander. Mason hadn't missed the fact that she hadn't headed down to the launch bays yet. Then again, Mason thought, there's a better than even chance she's on drugs. Mason didn't particularly like her, but she did have the most experience of any of his pilots and actually kept the lot of them in line fairly well.
Mason leaned in her direction and let some of his seething rage seep through, “Load up the dazzlers. Question me again and I'll have you attached to one when we launch the fighters. If I'm particularly nice, I might even make sure you're in a space suit so you can enjoy the ride, understood?”
Maggie went pale and gave him a sharp nod. She also backed off the bridge and stumbled over a couple of crew on the way out. Mason turned to Lauren, “Adjust the frequency on our emitters to setting three-seven-eight.” He adjusted the course Kandergain had sent, slightly. One nice thing about piracy, he didn't have to remember ranks and positions, just names.
“Captain?” Lauren asked uncertainly.
“The beam emitters can hit a frequency that limits physical damage to the target. It's good for taking prisoners, capturing ships, and making hostages,” Mason said lightly. “No need to kill them when we can run them off with their tails between their legs.”
The issue with the modulated beams were that they dropped his effective range down drastically. They generated bursts of microwaves on impact, which caused ionization and inducted currents throughout their targets. The enemy wouldn't be firing non-lethal rounds back at them, either, which made the use of it riskier than Mason wanted to think about. Unconsciously, Mason's hand dropped down to his belt, as if searching for the prayer beads that should hang there.
Though, he thought, I do have the dazzlers... He typed in a set of calculations on his console and began to smile a bit. The tactic was completely against doctrine, risky in the extreme, and far too likely to fall apart. Let's face it, he thought, I love the idea so I'm going to do it, risky and stupid as it may be.
Mason looked up with a smile and evidently some of the crazy shone through and Mark took a step back. “Sir, they're trying to find a way through our jamming...”
“Didn't Lauren have you working on new jamming patterns?” Mason asked.
“Well, yes, but those were for standard emissions sets, they're hitting us on a lot more frequencies. I didn't think we'd be fighting main-line units!” Mark Mendoza looked a bit panicked, which was good, Mason supposed, he would be less likely to think critically about how the normally sloppy Stavros was about to pull off a complex plan of attack... hopefully without getting too many people killed in the process.
Mason stood up from his chair and stepped forward to stare down at Mendoza. “Stavros does not want to hear excuses. Continue jamming, be creative. Otherwise, I'll strap you on a dazzler with the squadron commander, understood?”
As he headed back to his seat, Lauren spoke up, “Who'll fly the bird if she's on the missile, Captain?” Her smirk suggested that she found his threats and bluster humorous.
“I'll rig it up as a drone, since jamming will be down,” Mason snarled. He took a seat and leaned back in casual relaxation. “Now that I think of it, open a channel to the enemy vessels.”
“Through our jamming, sir?” Mendoza asked nervously.
Mason gave the man a level look. A moment later his console indicated he was live. “Attention pathetic defense forces. I am Captain Stavros Heraklion, my vessel, the Kraken is here on business unrelated to your little world. Cease your pursuit and I will not harm you. Continue it and I will cripple your ships one by one and board them, to take them as my prizes.” He cut the connection before anyone could respond. “That should be enough.”
The Kraken swept closer and Mason leaned back even further. I'm going to feel awful silly if they get a lucky hit on the bridge and I end up breathing vacuum, he thought, well, right before the painful and horrible death part. Still, Stavros wouldn't show fear and Mason had to admit, he felt confident enough of his plan.
Their course brought them knifing in at the heart of the formation. Mason studied the oncoming force. The vanguard of the formation was made up of four Defiance-class destroyers. The older destroyers had lower accelerations and far inferior armaments to the other ships in the force. They were elderly, even for warships in the Republic Liberation Fleet. Mason grinned a bit to see them positioned there, however. “Evidently, you are jamming them well enough, Mendoza. Maybe I won't launch you out there as ordinance.” Unlike newer vessels in the RLF, the old Defiance class ships mounted lidar, which was excellent for pin-point targeting and extremely difficult to jam. Most of the newer warships in both the Colonial Republic and even the Centauri Confederation had done away with the laser based targeting, right up until Tau Ceti introduced the latest generation of jamming systems, which the Kraken's systems could easily emulate.
The Defiance-class destroyers were under-gunned and woefully under-powered even when they were built, mostly as a stopgap to fill the void left by the collapse of Amalgamated Worlds. The newer Forerunner-class destroyers were their replacement, far better armed but with limited sensors. Mason saw four of those in the rear of the formation and he would guess that the enemy commander made his flagship aboard one of those, rather than either of the pair of Independence-class cruisers.
Both of those were somewhere closer in age to the Defiances, Mason knew. They mounted heavier weapons and more of them, but still had limited power to run their systems in combat and with the state of Colonial Republic maintenance, were probably in poor shape. Which wasn't to say that two of them couldn't be dangerous, just that the four destroyers with more modern weaponry and higher accelerations were more of one.
Mason fiddled with attack vectors for a moment. They would flash into missile range in only a few minutes now as Mason adjusted their own vector closer to the enemy force. The one thing the Colonials had in number was missiles, he knew. “Lauren, you've got interceptor fire. Be prepared, they'll volley everything they have in a single salvo.” He saw her nod absently as she keyed up fire commands. In reality, he could have avoided jamming until the enemy missile launch to maintain an edge, but he liked to see what the enemy had available. So far he was impressed with their training, but not so much with their equipment.
The Defiance-class destroyers mounted external missile racks only, while the Forerunners had armored missile bays, which meant they could, in theory, wait to launch them until later. The Independences mounted both four internal tubes and an external set of interceptor missile racks. Mason wondered, though, if a commander corrupt enough to be bought out by Nova Corp into protecting their squatter mining colony was the type to sell off some of his 'excess' munitions.
Sure enough, the missile salvo was very light. Most of it came from the Forerunners in the rear of the formation. Either he's feeling the expense or he's trying to fool me, Mason thought. Still, the forty missiles in flight were impressive enough. For that matter, he was entirely certain that the other commander hadn't volleyed his interceptor missiles. He probably wanted those against any return salvo or fighters that Mason would launch. Since the Kraken didn't mount any missile systems other than those aboard her two squadrons of fighters, Mason was happy enough to just face the flight of heavy missiles.
Mason bit his lip as he watched Lauren deploy the defensive fire. She began with the main guns, of which Mason entirely approved. Depending on the bank emitter setting they could engage out to twenty five thousand kilometers with highly focused bursts. She used the secondary battery to thin out the ones that slipped through and had the inner array of pulse weapons set to intercept the handful of leakers.
Mason could tell she had trained extensively with the simulations he had given her. He felt at once both a little proud of her and somewhat daunted. She had taken to the ship and it's weapons like a fish to water... with no background besides the basic training the Chxor had provided her as a missile tech. As he watched, he sent the Kraken through the preprogrammed evasive maneuvers to ensure that if anything did slip past her, it wouldn't have an easy target.
As it was, three of the forty missiles detonated. The closest was well clear of them. “Emissions suggests fission warhead, fifteen megaton yield,” Dale Peterson said nervously.
Mason gave a loud laugh at that, “He's firing pop guns at us, is he?” The fifteen megaton fission warheads were relatively dangerous, but not nearly as nasty as some of the newer warheads that the RLF used, much less ones available from Nova Roma, the Centauri Confederation, or even from Port Klast. “Launch the fighter squadrons, tell them to take up pattern delta.”
His fighters deployed and Mason felt a bit of his tension ease. He noted that Dale Peterson had identified what he thought was the enemy flagship, a Forerunner that was at the very rear of the formation. Now I really have a good target, Mason thought.
The enemy force came closer. “They're hitting us with active lidar, I can't jam that, Captain,” Mendoza said nervously.
Mason updated the evasive patterns and the indicators of active lidar hits dropped off sharply as the ship jinked in ways such a large ship had no business moving. Mason let out another braying laugh as targeting data fed through his systems. He highlighted the enemy flagship as Lauren's primary target and then updated the fighters with course adjustments and maneuvers as they began to separate on their adjusted course. As expected, the enemy force focused on the Kraken as the large cruiser continued to close the distance.
“Enemy fire, heavy rail guns from the cruisers,” Peterson said sharply. He also updated the plot with his estimated projectile trajectories. The first salvos were clean misses, as expected, Mason saw. But the point was to limit his possible approach vectors and to bracket him as he came in.
The other vessels opened up a moment later, with an almost solid sheet of rail-gun and mass driver fire designed to further limit his maneuvers and to force him closer into their kill boxes. Unlike their normal targets, Mason was certain the Kraken could take a few of those hits if necessary to escape... but he didn't feel he needed to do so.
In any case, at this range, they were trying to limit his options and shape the coming fight rather than to actually hit him. What they didn't know, was that Mason wanted an open channel to close the distance. “They think they're herding a beast to slaughter, but they're about to let the tiger in amongst them,” Mason said, in full Stavros mode. For a moment, the exhilaration of the fight made his role seem almost real.
He shook that off as he considered the positions of the enemy vessels and his own. The Kraken was poised at sixty thousand kilometers, well outside the enemy's effective range for anything besides missiles, with similar velocities and vectors as Mason maintained the range. “Orders to the squadrons,” Mason snapped, as he judged the vectors again, “Execute attack pattern delta three.” He had cued up a series of attacks, much like the plays in a grav-ball game. At the same time as he gave the order, he flipped the Kraken over and dove at the enemy formation at full acceleration. The big ship turned fast, far faster than the enemy had expected. Mason keyed up the target priorities even as his two squadrons of Falkes launched their missiles, right into the teeth of the enemy formation.
Each of the Falkes carried two of the light missiles. The twelve fighters carried a total of twenty four. The dazzlers detonated in and amongst the enemy vessels only seconds before the Kraken flashed through their formation and began to engage them. The enemy ships were caught unprepared for his maneuver and before they could adjust, the sharp electromagnetic bursts knocked out their forward sensors and played havoc with their defense screens and maneuver thrusters. Two of the Defiance-class destroyers spun out of control as their older systems went haywire. Most of the formation came apart as the blinded ships tried to dodge the sudden assault.
Mason gave out a crow of victory as Lauren's fire homed in on the enemy flagship. The Forerunner-class destroyer's emissions dropped sharply as systems went down. The forward defense screens dropped entirely, followed by the ship's weapons fire and then its engines. The enemy destroyer spun out of control and Mason brought the Kraken in close against the other ship as she played the main batteries across the enemy vessel.
A glance at his screen showed the entire formation had come apart with most of the ships having adopted radical course changes to evade the enemy in their midst. Most of them had ceased to fire, though the pair of Defiance-class destroyers still under power maintained a hail of fire that looked to be more of a hazard to their own ships than anything to worry about in the short term.
“Cease jamming,” Mason said. “Open channel.” He smiled as his screen went live, “I am Captain Stavros Heraklion. I am here to punish Nova Corp for their greed and tyranny, not for any violence against the good people of Ottokar. The ships which have opposed me have been dispersed. I am not without mercy, however, and those who surrender when they encounter me in the future will receive my benevolence. I will take the three ships I disabled as prizes, but I will allow all three vessels to evacuate their personnel before I launch my boarding parties. Any attempts to scuttle or recover those ships and I will destroy them and all aboard. Stavros out.”
***
Ottokar System
Colonial Republic
October 28, 2403
“Captain Stavros, darling, I am very impressed,” Admiral Mannetti practically purred through the communications channel. “You captured the mining colony all by yourself, without damage and after dispersing the local patrol force.”
“Let's not forget that the mine's security force surrendered after hearing about me,” Mason smirked. In truth, he was glad for that. He hadn't wanted to kill any of them if he didn't have to. All the same, he wondered if he had made himself look too competent.
“I do wonder, though,” Admiral Mannetti said, her voice pleasant but her eyes cold with calculation, “why you didn't just kill the Colonial Republic personnel who opposed you, why let them go?”
Mason stood up straight, “So that there are more of them to speak of how dangerous Stavros Heraklion is, of course.” He let his smirk go sour, “And as it is, I find live survivors are less likely to generate fanatical hatred than dead victims. I do get tired of the young idiots trying to kill me.”
“Really, Stavros, that's quite enlightened for you,” Admiral Mannetti said with a chuckle. “I might even say beguiling.”
“Beguiling,” Mason said, “I like that word, I'll have to remember it.”
“Well, since you've already sent your prizes back to Halcyon, do you still plan to send down anyone to assist in looting the mine?” Admiral Mannetti asked.
Mason almost said no, but he rethought it at the look in her eyes. She's still suspicious, he realized, and Stavros wouldn't miss a good looting for anything. “Of course. I only waited because I wanted to show I wasn't taking more than my fair share.”
Admiral Mannetti looked somewhat doubtful at that, but the idea that Stavros was a greedy backstabber was one he was fine with her having, she'd be less likely to realize that he was here to bring her down. “Will I see you down there, my Lady?” He put a bit of leer into his voice and as he expected, she barely hid her irritation.
“No, I've business to attend to up here, we're stripping the orbital defenses,” Admiral Mannetti said. “Good looting to you, Stavros.”
“You as well, Admiral,” Mason said. As the connection cut off he leered at the bridge crew, “Women can't resist Stavros.”
“Right,” Kandergain said as she rolled her eyes. “Who is going down with you, Captain?”
Mason glanced at Lauren, but she nodded slightly at Mark Mendoza. Clearly she didn't trust the spy alone on the ship unsupervised while it was in orbit so close to Lucretta Mannetti. “I want you to plot us some evacuation courses in case the RLF people recover their courage. Lauren, I want you along with the cargo master and his crew, and tell the doc to come too,” Mason said lightly. He really hoped he didn't need Theresa Lourdes, for one thing, that would mean someone was injured. For another, she was not only one of Lucretta Mannetti's spies, but a creepy sort to boot. “Tell Asara Khemali to prep my personal shuttle.”
He checked the screens one last time before he left the bridge and thought about who was probably down on the moon already. Admiral Mannetti had brought her carrier for the follow-on attack as well as the Ironwitch and the cruiser Nebula Dawn. He had also seen Captain Damien Walter's ship, which he still had to shake his head at... what kind of vain idiot named their ship after themselves?
Still, Admiral Mannetti's pet boy toy was probably helping her to loot the defense platforms, given the position of his ship. Mason didn't want another run-in with the sulky idiot. He reached the launch bay just as Asara Khemali stepped off his shuttle, “Captain, she's ready to go, all fueled up. Try to find us some good loot, eh?”
Mason gave the woman a glare, “You're coming too, these hands are made for fighting and loving, not for carrying.” He gave a casual wave, “Oh, Kandergain, you can pilot. I need to catch up on my sleep.”
“Thanks, Captain,” she said with another roll of her eyes.
Mason took the jump seat and sat back. Through slitted eyes, he watched the crew board the shuttle, even as he thought about the next part. Asara Khemali and Theresa Lourdes looked nervous, Carlos Ortiz looked excited, probably at the thought of loot. Ostensibly, the raid was to punish Nova Corp with a secondary goal of freeing the contract workers at the mine. Mason had even sat through a briefing where they were instructed on how to offer them sanctuary on Halcyon. With Admiral Mannetti present, it was very likely to take a darker turn. Some of her people wouldn't hesitate to strip the mine of everything of value, to include the environmental systems that would keep the mine personnel alive. Well, he corrected, the ones they wouldn't kidnap and sell into slavery on an even worse hell-hole.
A number of the big Centauri corporations and even a few of the ones based on Tau Ceti made use of 'contract' workers: men and women who signed up for the promise of work and pay. Some of those contracts were somewhat straightforward. Workers worked off their contract and in the process, could buy a ticket elsewhere, assuming they didn't stay with the company. Others amounted to wage slaves, paid in company chits whose value fluctuated according to the company ledgers, forced to pay for food, clothing, and equipment at usurious rates. Of course, since most of those corporations were nationalized under their governments, there was no recourse for them, they worked until they died... and the companies even retained rights over their bodies for medical research. It was a nasty, ugly business, and one more reason that Mason disliked the Centauri Confederation... and Amalgamated Worlds which had allowed the corporations to do that even under their watch.
Of course, there were Colonial Republic worlds where they simply bought people as slave labor, no questions asked. Places where the local wildlife made farming by hand a dangerous prospect. It wasn't remotely cost-effective over the long run, but it was simple and required little thought on the parts of such slave traders or masters. For the comely of the slaves, there were brothels and the like and for that matter, there were planets in the Colonial Republic where gladiatorial style fights were not only legal, but supported by planetary governments. Flesh could sell and Mason wondered if he had it in him to stand by and watch it happen... or worse, to take part in it himself. I have to draw the line somewhere, he thought darkly, even if it means blowing this whole thing.
Kandergain brought the shuttle down at the mine's landing pad. Mason unstrapped and led the way off the shuttle. There were already a pair of shuttles present, one of them painted garishly purple and gold. Crap, Mason thought, that idiot Damien is here. The shuttle's absurd paint scheme matched the ship in orbit.
As if to punctuate that thought, there was a shrill scream, a sharp sound of hand striking flesh, and the sound of tearing cloth. Mason's head snapped around and tracked on the crowd of men and cluster of younger women, most of them in gray coveralls. The exception was one woman, her coveralls torn, a red mark across her face. Above her stood Damien Walter, the pirate raising his arm to strike her again.
Mason's hands dropped to his pistol butts. He stalked forward, his long, panther-like stride took him right up behind the pirate. He caught the man's raised hand before he could swing it. “What's going on here, then?” Mason snapped.
“Ah... Stavros, late as usual,” Damien said with a smirk as he turned. He went to pull his hand free but Mason clamped on it. The other man grunted uncomfortably and then his smirk faded. “You can let me go, Stavros.” His nasal whine was harsher than normal.
Out of the periphery of his vision, Mason saw Damien's men start to go for their weapons. A cleared throat, behind them, caught their attention and the sound of a slide being racked caused them to freeze. Mason gave a cold, humorless smile, he didn't need to look back to recognize the sound of Lauren's submachinegun. “Damien,” Mason said, and he let some of the darkness inside leak through to his voice. “What are you doing?”
Evidently, he didn't realize his danger. “These young women wanted to take us up on our offer to transport them off this rock.” Damien leered a bit, “I was just discussing payment.”
Mason's gaze flickered to the girl on the ground, who clutched the torn top of her coveralls over her chest protectively. His blue eyes darkened at the spreading bruise on the side of her face. Mason's eyes came up to meet those of Damien and at last the pirate seemed to realize the danger. “Stavros, come on, they're just women!” At the cleared throat from Lauren, Damien paled.
He really is a spineless, effeminate, little toad, Mason thought. He let the man's arm go and took a step back. “We're on business, here, Damien,” Mason said and pitched his voice so everyone could hear. “Which means even a ball-less, little fuck-puppet like you should be able to keep his tiny dick in his pants and not piss off our employers.” Mason put every ounce of his disgust into his tone and picked the vilest insult he could... which also described the man to a fair extent.
Damien's face went pale at the insult and then his face flashed red with anger. His eyes flitted to his men and Mason could read from their stances that while they didn't necessarily like their treatment, they didn't argue with Mason's words. “You can't talk to me like that, Stavros!” He tried for confident and strong and came off as whiny and pathetic instead. “Admiral Mannetti will...”
“Will, what, clean up your mess for you?” Mason gave a hearty and entirely false laugh, “Seriously, are you that much of a pathetic little doll that you need to call on your squeeze to do your work for you?” Mason asked. At his words, he saw Damien's hand drop to his own holstered pistol. Yet the white-knuckled grip he had on it suggested that he was more afraid than ready to draw.
Mason stalked forward and leaned over the shorter man, “Tell you what, Damien, you have one way to prove you aren't a cowardly, lying, little shit-weasel... Come now, you've spoken about how fast you are, you even shot that fellow Archambault in a duel. What about me, here, now?”
Damien cowered back and Mason shook his head in unfeigned disgust. He turned away and faced the women and girls. “Go back to your families. Tell them that Halcyon colony has extended an invitation to anyone who wants out of their contracts here. I don't know why they're being so generous, but if I were you, I'd take them up on it. They're a damned sight better than this worthless gutter scum.”
“Look out!”
Mason spun, half expecting the warning, even as Damien got his pistol out and fired. Mason felt a white hot line of pain across his shoulder as his own pistols cleared their holsters. Mason fired from the hip and his bullets stitched up Damien's torso, the last pair blasted through the other man's throat.
Mason straightened and turned back to face Damien's crew and the now terrified women. “You all saw that, Damien drew on me, from behind.” His shoulder felt like it was on fire and he felt blood trickle down his back from the wound. He waved at the women, “Get out of here and spread the message.”
His eyes went to Damien's crew. “Leave that piece of filth lie where he fell. I've got to go tell Admiral Mannetti what happened.” He stalked back through them and they parted around him. Dressed as he was, it would have looked ridiculous, except every one of them stank of fear.
As he passed Lauren he heard her mutter, “Good riddance.”
Mason shrugged and then winced as his shoulder throbbed, “I could have handled it better, I suppose.”
“You handled it just fine,” Lauren said. “Frankly, if it was me, I would have just shot him first thing for what he was doing. This way you aren't in trouble for attacking him first.”
“Yeah,” Mason said. Even so, as he stepped back onto his shuttle, he wondered if that was why he had done it. Did I really want to protect those women, he thought, or did I just want to kill the man that much? Mason found no answer in the privacy of his own mind.
***
Admiral Mannetti stood behind her desk, her hands clasped behind her and her uniform spotless as Mason stepped into her office. He put as much of Stavros's swagger into his step as he could. “Admiral, I'm afraid I have to tell you of young Damien Walter's death.”
“I already heard,” Admiral Mannetti said, her voice calm She stalked forward and stood in front of him, so he had to look down at her. “His executive officer reported in before you docked. There is even a video, from one of his men, of the entire encounter.” She stalked around him in a circle, “You are a devious man, Stavros.”
“Admiral?”
She leaned in close, as she made another circuit, her voice pitched low, “You knew that Damien was my favorite, didn't you, Stavros?”
Mason shrugged and then winced again as the wound on his shoulder throbbed. Lauren had slapped some sealant on it, but it wasn't enough and he hadn't taken any painkillers yet. “I heard that, yeah,” he said in a bored tone.
She paused in front of him and cocked her head, “But that upset you, didn't it, to see such a weak fool as my favorite. So you set him up, put him in a position where he had no choice but to attack you so that you could kill him... and take his place.”
Mason opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Lucretta Mannetti pulled his head down to hers in a kiss. Her hot lips met his and an almost electric current went through him, along with a pulse of pure lust. Up close he could smell her, a scent of musk that almost overwhelmed him. Before he could respond to the kiss, she jerked his head back by the hair and slapped him, full on, “That was very bad, Stavros. I liked Damien. He did what I wanted, when I wanted... he was housebroken.”
The slap made Mason's ears ring, but he welcomed the sudden sharp pain, it gave him a chance to get his own hormones under control.
“You... you are definitely not housebroken,” Lucretta Mannetti said, her voice both sultry and dismissive. “But, you have a certain oafish charm about you.” She smiled at the expression on his face, “Yes, Stavros, you're cunning too, don't get me wrong, but you aren't smart. You have no idea what you're getting into with me, none at all... and since you did away with my... how did you put it, 'ball-less fuck-puppet' then I think you'll have to fill his shoes.” She turned away and the exaggerated swing of her hips suggested just what that would involve.
She turned and went behind her desk and finally took her seat. “Now then, to business. You're a man of ambition, aren't you Stavros?” Mason felt far too discombobulated to speak, so he just gave her a nod. “How would you like to rule over part, a big part, of an empire?”
Mason's eyebrows went up, “It could be a lot of fun.”
Evidently, that was what she had expected to hear and she gave him an amused and condescending smile, “Yes, it could. A very lot of fun. But if you want that, you need to think big... stop thinking with your dick and use some of your cunning.”
Mason stepped forward and took a seat. “I'm listening.”
“There are people that I work with and for... we're trying to build something, to build a real power, not the broken down wreck that was Amalgamated Worlds or the kleptocracy of the Colonial Republic. A real empire, with an Emperor... and an Empress.”
“And perhaps room for the Empress's favorite?” Mason asked with a leer.
Her gaze went flat, “Perhaps, so long as he does what he's told and doesn't cause issues. Issues like killing off her allies nephew.” Mason frowned at that and she sighed, “See, if you had paid attention, you would have been able to find that Damien Walter was the nephew to President Walter of The Republic of Sedonia... who is Admiral Collae's brother in law.”
Shit, Mason thought, I just killed Collae's family, there's no way he won't dig into my past now and if he looks close enough he'll see through it.
“President Walter will not take this well at all, I'm afraid,” Lucretta Mannetti said. “Which means that they'll want your head on a spike. What's worse, you big dumb fool, is I need their help, so I can't be seen to favor you, even if I do want to rip off those hideous pants right now and make you mine.”
“Ah,” Mason said. “I think perhaps we should discuss how I might survive the news that I've killed Admiral Collae's dearly departed nephew. Then we can get on to the pant-tearing.” He didn't have to entirely feign a slight note of panic in his voice.
She gave him a level look. “I've been informed by my crew that some two hundred of the contract workers, almost all of them, want to take you up on your offer of transportation. That should go a long way to making you a favored son of Halcyon colony... which is good. For one thing, they'll protect you from Admiral Collae. For another, I want them to think you're a loyal servant to them... when we both know that there are far bigger stakes here.”
“Empire, yes Admiral,” Mason nodded. “So I get their trust, then what?”
“Leave that to me,” Admiral Mannetti said. “I've got some additional business to attend to after this raid is complete. So I won't have to be around to resist temptation... but you better believe we'll find the time when I get back.”
Mason gave her a leer in his guise of Stavros, but inwardly he shivered at the animal way that his body reacted to her. His head felt muddled and his breathing unsteady. Some part of him responded to her with absolute desire while the rest felt nauseated and disgusted. His animal side, the wolf that Lan had spoken of, recognized the predator in her and responded to it... yet there was nothing else in the woman. To her, the universe was made up of predator and prey, hunter and food.
“Well, you better run along now,” Admiral Mannetti said with a sly smile, “We wouldn't want anyone to start to wonder what we're doing here... or to get the wrong ideas.”
***
Chapter XI
Melcer System
United Colonies
October 30, 2403
“...so you can see, Baron, the enemy is busy constructing a defense in depth of both the Tehran and Danar systems to oppose our assault on Nova Roma.” Captain Wu said. “The intent seems to be not only to slow us down but also attrition of our forces before what they see as the primary battle at Nova Roma.”
“Yes,” Lucius nodded. It matched what he had expected, in many ways, though it showed an unfortunately acute determination of strategy on the part of the Chxor commander. He looked at Admiral Dreyfus who gave him a nod. “Thank you, Captain Wu. Before Captain Franks begins his initial briefing, I want to explain why we're bumping up our operations.”
He stood and brought up an image of Shadow Lord Invictus's flagship, the Baramis. “I'm told that some of you would recognize this ship.” From the mutters around the room, more than a few did. “Admiral Dreyfus informed me that it was an alien ship, recovered by Amalgamated Worlds, and heavily researched. Apparently, Shadow Lord Invictus took it when the Shadow Lords sacked Earth. This is one trophy to them... and at this moment, all five of their fleets are poised to do the same thing at Faraday.”
The mutters stilled. Even the men and women who Lucius suspected were part of the conspiracy to seize the fleet were still. “They are held at bay only because of a very delicate balance,” Lucius said. “And the longer we give them to wait, the more likely they are to pounce. Therefore, we need to finish our business with the Chxor and be back in position to guard our own base of operations before they find a way to break their stalemate.” It wasn't the whole truth, but Lucius didn't want the sordid tale of how the Shadow Lords had manipulated his grandmother's love life to suit their own goals to become common knowledge.
“As Captain Franks is about to brief, we don't have time to marshal our forces, attack Tehran and then do the same at Danar, to then do the same at Nova Roma.” Lucius looked around the attentive faces and tried not to worry about how many of them were part of the plot against the United Colonies... or how many of them believed the rumors about him, anyway. “So instead, we're launching a simultaneous assault, on both Tehran and Danar. Admiral Dreyfus will command the assault on Tehran and I will command it against Danar.” It had been a long and frustrating argument to convince the Admiral of that necessity. Admiral Dreyfus still seemed to think it was some sort of honor-bound Nova Roma nobility thing that made Lucius want to lead that attack. Lucius just felt that it would be a harder fight and that he knew the Chxor tactics far better than the Admiral as well as knowing the system and having fought there before. And then there's the Admiral's lack of flexibility as far as fighter stratagems and tactics, Lucius mentally added.
Tehran, according to their scouts, had fewer forces and looked to be the easier target, especially with a smaller assault force to engage it. Danar, on the other hand, was going to be one hell of a fight, Lucius knew. They had spent the past two days in constant discussion and planning. Even so, Lucius still felt like they needed far more planning to carry the complex operation out.
“Now,” Lucius said. “Absent any comments, Captain Franks will begin to brief the operation.”
***
Captain Daniel Beeson paused at the entrance to Baron Giovanni's quarters. The two Marines outside gave him a nod and he returned it, even as he ran their names past the growing list in his head of people he knew couldn't be trusted. They weren't on it, but that didn't mean that they shouldn't be thoroughly vetted. He would have to put Forrest Perkins on that, the ensign, despite his youthful, outgoing, and cheerful appearance had a very twisted mind and had proven very good thus far, at ferreting out people they could and couldn't trust.
“Sir, just here with the reports,” Daniel said.
The Baron looked up from his desk and he gave Daniel a nod. “Of course, thank you, Daniel, I appreciate it.” He didn't ask whether the reports were about the coming attack or about the conspiracy. Daniel figured it was because he didn't trust his quarters not to be bugged. Which said bad things about their internal security. Daniel mentally added a personal security detail to the list of things he needed to work. That, at least, he felt he could consult with either Alicia Nix of the FIB or Colonel William Proscia. The retired Marine officer was, officially, just in charge of the new Faraday Military Academy, but he also knew over a thousand Marines personally and had trained well over ninety percent of them.
The Baron looked over the offered datapad and his eyebrows went up at the highlighted names. “You're certain about these?” He reached into his desk as he spoke and pulled out a small, black, box and turned it on. A moment later, a green light began to flash.
Daniel looked at him curiously, and the Baron gave a slight smile, “Something my sister gave me, actually. It's manufactured on Tannis, designed to jam and override any bugs. She's modified it a bit.”
Daniel wanted to wince at that. While he was sure the Baron had confidence in his sister's abilities, the people they were trying to uncover had killed before and would not hesitate to do so if they feared they would be revealed. Evidently he didn't hide his expression well enough and the Baron chuckled a bit, “Captain, let me assure you, I ran it past everything that Alicia Nix's people could put it through, it passed every test, even better than the factory specifications.”
“Oh,” Daniel said. He shook his head, “My apologies, sir, I think the work is making me a bit paranoid.”
“The work and the work load, I'd imagine,” the Baron responded. “I can't imagine acting as my chief of staff is easy, particularly when I'm still assembling a staff.”
“Well, I'm managing,” Daniel said somewhat defensively. In truth, his assignment was exhausting... but it also gave him the perfect position to evaluate not just Admiral Dreyfus's staff, but also many of the senior commanders who interacted with them. What he had seen, thus far, was far from encouraging, he could privately acknowledge. Which brought him back to his report, “But yes, sir, I am certain about those names.” He grimaced as he said it, because of how bad of news that was.
The Baron nodded, though his dark eyes showed he understood the dire situation well enough. “This reads like most of the logistical staff, short of Captain Magnani.”
“I know, sir,” Daniel said. “And, honestly, I'm not sure how this could get by under her nose without her noticing something. There are massive discrepancies here, they've made entire cargoes of weapons, supplies, even fighters disappear. I would say it is ridiculous except I've gone over it all myself... twice.”
“How did you get the real numbers?” Baron Giovanni asked as he examined the notes, which included page after page of discrepancies.
“Forrest Perkins recruited a communications officer that he knew from the Melcer raid. She's very skilled with computers and she already had access. We're going to try to bring her over into your staff. Needless to say, she's also very loyal.” Michele Konetsky had somehow survived over five years aboard the Chxor mining craft, in conditions which killed most people off in a few months. She hated the Chxor with a passion... and especially hated any humans who opposed 'her' Baron, as she put it.
“Excellent, I need a new communications officer,” Lucius said. Some edge of pain in his voice kept Daniel from asking what had happened to Commander Reese Leone-Giovanni. The rumors about that had become almost more viral than anything else and the addition of a wanted poster for the man in their archives suggested that the rumors were at least partially correct. Though, Daniel thought, I'm certain that his sister didn't draw a gun on him, that's a bit far fetched for a wife and husband.
“What about personnel?” Baron Giovanni asked.
“I'm certain they're fully invested,” Daniel said with a grimace. “I think that started when Captain Chu died of a heart attack, not long after the Fleet set out. Since then, the conspirators have fully invested that section, I think it's both to hide transfers of personnel and also to manipulate promotions and commands.” That they had used that power to block his own command was now a distant anger, dwarfed by how they had wormed their way through the system to put their people into key positions... and either suborned or killed the people they couldn't otherwise replace. Daniel hesitated a moment and then finally spoke, “Sir, one more thing. I've managed to identify the man killed by Anthony Doko and his wife.”
“What?” the Baron demanded.
“He was Private First Class Song Tran, late of the Amalgamated Worlds Fleet Marines. He shipped out with the Dreyfus Fleet and then vanished from the personnel files, officially transferred to one ship but never reported... and they never reported him missing.” Daniel grimaced, “He was one of the ghosts in their system.”
“So these bastards tried to kill or kidnap Anthony Doko?” Lucius demanded.
“Or his wife,” Daniel said quickly. “That's my own personal opinion, they wanted to shatter our alliance with Nova Roma, cause a rift, probably plant evidence of a murder suicide and then let Admiral Balventia... that is your political opponents within the Nova Roma contingent to turn the Emperor against you.” Daniel could easily see how that might work, particularly if they placed some kind of incriminating evidence to implicate Captain Doko.
“Very well,” the Baron said. He met Daniel's eyes, and his gaze was angry. “These bastards are confident enough to try to kill our people. We have to stop them and soon. Having this information puts us in position to counter them. We need to step up our operations against them and we need to form teams to arrest them, as well.”
“It may not be that easy, sir,” Daniel said uncertainly. “At this point, I'd estimate they have somewhere around a battalion's strength of Marines who they have 'disappeared' just like Private Song Tran. We don't have visibility on them, but I know for a fact that they've set aside weapons and equipment for those personnel, to include fighters and power armor.”
Baron Giovanni sat back and his face went thoughtful, “You're saying this might come to open fighting.”
“I'm almost certain that it will,” Daniel said. “Which means we need to recruit elements of our own and plan accordingly.” He was no stranger to fighting, he had gone with Lauren Kelly and other volunteers to infiltrate Faraday and seize the planetary defenses ahead of the Second Battle of Faraday. He'd seen plenty of blood and death at close range in that fight. The mess that power armor and serious weapons would do to any soft target was one that made him feel extremely uncertain.
“Very well,” the Baron almost seemed to sag in on himself. His gaze went distant and when he spoke, his voice was more so, “I wonder, sometimes, if this is something that I caused.” Daniel could see that the attempt on Anthony Doko, in particular, sat heavy on the man. He no doubt blamed himself for making his friend a target.
“Sir,” Daniel said, “You can't blame yourself. These bastards have had this planned for decades, hell, some of them probably from before the Dreyfus Fleet even shipped out.”
The Baron gave him a tired smile, “I know that, but still, I wonder if I could have reached them... somehow.” He shook his head, “Sorry, back to the subject at hand. I'll authorize you start standing up our own insurance policy in case this does come to open conflict. In the meantime, I want you to put together a full brief, one that is ironclad, for me to take to Admiral Dreyfus.”
“You want to bring him in?” Daniel asked uncertainly.
“Yes,” Baron Giovanni said. “He deserves to know and we can use his expertise.”
Daniel nodded slowly, “Very well, sir. I'll put it together and work that. I assume you want to bring this up after the attack?” When the Baron nodded in response, Daniel pursed his lips. “I can have that done by then, no problem sir.”
“Everything else in hand?” The Baron asked.
“Yes, sir,” Daniel said. “It looks like we'll be right on time to jump to shadow. We are resupplied and the ships commanders are preparing to run through your scenario.”
“Excellent,” the Baron rose. “Keep me informed of any issues.” He glanced back down at his desk, “I've got to finish these responses to some of the government issues.” He shook his head, “It makes me long for a nice boring logistical report to read through.”
“Good luck, Baron,” Daniel said. As he headed for the door, he thought, once again, about how lucky he was to serve under Baron Giovanni... and how essential the other man was to their war effort. And I'm going to make damned certain that none of these conspirator bastards get the chance to bring him down.
***
Halcyon, Garris Major System
Contested
November 2, 2403
“I've already heard Admiral Mannetti's briefing on your actions at the Ottokar system,” Counselor Penwaithe said, her face pinched. “Frankly, you could have handled things better.” Her tone made it very clear that there were other words she would have liked to use... such as 'disaster' or 'catastrophic failure.'
Mason, still the the guise of Stavros leaned back in his chair, “If this is about the boy Damien...”
“Do not interrupt me, Captain,” she snapped. “I hadn't even begun to get to that particular incident, I was still addressing what happened between you and Commodore Martindale.”
“Oh, her,” Mason said with a tone of polite interest, “Did she stop running long enough to report in?”
“She did, in fact, come straight back here, where she reported your insubordination and arrogance and failure to follow orders,” the Counselor said sharply.
Mason leaned forward, “I followed her orders exactly. She plotted the course that got us spotted by the patrol force, she ordered me to full acceleration, and it was she who then panicked and broke formation when she realized how badly she messed things up.”
“Be that as it may,” Counselor Penwaithe snapped, “You did commence broad spectrum jamming to avoid further orders from her. You also left her to fend for her own rather than attempt to come to her assistance.”
Mason shook his head, “I asked, before we even departed, if she would like to share our jamming frequencies. She said she didn't need them. I commenced jamming to prevent communications from reaching the mining facility and warning them of the impending attack.” It was at least remotely plausible, he knew. And the privateers could hardly be counted upon to have military discipline. Besides, he had offered her his jamming codes, Martindale had ignored the message.
Penwaithe grimaced again. “Be that as it may, you didn't go out of your way to help her out.” She sighed, “But I can't argue with your success. You took on two cruisers and eight destroyers with one ship and you not only captured three of them, you didn't create an atrocity. In fact, we've actually received an unofficial thanks from New Swabia's government. Both for not getting a lot of their naval personnel killed and for embarrassing the corrupt commander.”
Mason gave a broad smile, “You see, I am a man of many talents.”
“Which then brings us to what you did at the mining station,” Counselor Penwaithe said. “You have been told before, multiple times, that fighting of any kind between our personnel is not allowed. Yet you deliberately provoked and then killed Damien Walter... who was the close relation of one of our allies.” She leaned over her desk, “Which is why I am penalizing you and your crew, your shares of the loot from the mining station.”
Mason didn't have to feign his wince, that meant that the entire crew would be out a lot of pay. The mine was the first real raid they'd been on so far and thus the first chance for real money. Not only that, but the rare earth metals the mine extracted, along with the stocks of valuable precious metals would have been a huge payday. To have that taken away would make his crew surly, at best. Some pirate crews would have mutinied over that and even someone as self-absorbed as Stavros would realize that.
“Which is not to say that there were not extenuating circumstances,” Counselor Penwaithe's voice softened. “I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard it first hand from the women you protected from gang rape and being sold as chattel by that bastard. Also, you did transport over two hundred of the freed contract workers, kept them fed, and I understand even had your ship's doctor tend to them en route. For those services, I'm not only exempting the three prize ships from your penalty, but I'm also authorizing a reimbursement of expenses, payable as the transportation costs of two hundred personnel, in standard, expenses for third class.”
Mason blinked at that. That didn't sound like much, until one considered the fact that a civilian ship wouldn't do a direct passage like they had. Civilian ships wouldn't even take a leg of the trip unless it was well charted. Which meant the equivalent passage would be very roundabout, probably with four or five systems on the way and appropriate stops to refuel. That would be a nice profit in and of itself.
“Since we've decided to commission all three of the captured warships, we'll pay the prize money to you directly. The three vessels will need a certain level of repairs and upgrades, but they'll be very useful to Halcyon. Also, since you captured the three ships on your own, we're assessing your vessel as the primary share.”
Mason gave a broad smile at that. The three ships were worth far more than the mine payoff. Even better, from his standpoint, it was a sign that the locals approved, however unofficially, of his actions. Well, he thought, it would be a stretch to say they liked Damien,but to reward me like that is to send a none too subtle hint to Admiral Mannetti and Admiral Collae.
“Thank you, Counselor, that's very generous of you,” Mason said.
“We reward good behavior,” Counselor Penwaithe said. “Now, since we've established that you and Commodore Martindale don't get along, I thought I'd offer you an alternative.”
Mason raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”
“We've noticed that your vessel is much faster than most of our other privateer vessels. I mentioned the possibility when I recruited you, of an independent command. We've something of an intermediate option, to allow you to further prove yourself.”
“I think I've already proven my capabilities,” Mason said with an exaggerated wave.
“Capabilities, yes,” Counselor Penwaithe said, “But lets just say that some people aren't really certain where your loyalties lie.” Mason didn't answer that. In reality, Stavros was loyal only to himself. The Counselor knew that. The rewards she offered wouldn't change that, merely make it more likely that Stavros would stick around. As opportunistic as he was, he wouldn't hesitate to betray an employer. Stavros being the liar he was, he might argue differently. Mason being the man he was, he actually did feel some compassion, perhaps even loyalty for the Halcyon colony. They seemed to have similar goals to Lucius Giovanni's United Colonies. But he couldn't very well say that, so he kept quiet.
She took his silence as confirmation of her own assumption, which was wise of her, if not entirely accurate. “So, our offer is for you to operate in conjunction with some of our other forces, not fully independent, but operating separately.”
Mason gave her a broad smile, “If I can have a spot at the table to give my ideas, this would be more than acceptable.”
“Very well,” she answered. “Thank you, Captain Stavros. Now, since you probably want to ship out as soon as possible to avoid a... confrontation with Admiral Collae, we have a large raid about to depart. You can meet with Commodore Moore at our military annex, they should begin the initial planning this afternoon and they'll be departing in the next few days.” She paused, “Admiral Mannetti won't be back for another week, at least, and Admiral Collae shouldn't return for another three days.”
“I'm not afraid of either one of them,” Mason said. He put an edge in his tone, designed to belie his words.
Evidently the Counselor took his bluster at face value and just smiled a bit. “Well, then, Captain Stavros, I suppose you should get going if you'd like to have a role in planning your next raid.”
***
Garret bit back a curse as Stavros Heraklion stepped into the briefing room. The pirate wore an absurd set of skin-tight leather pants and a low-cut shirt designed to show off either his chest, his gold and silver necklaces, his copious chest hair, or all three.
Garret was the senior representative from the War Dogs. The overall commander was Commodore Moore, who was also the senior Halcyon military officer. After the offer from his brother, Garret had done some investigation regarding the Commodore, the man they wanted him to replace.
Commodore Duncan Moore was an experienced military officer. The tall man stooped over the table in a fashion that made his big ears stand out even more. He had served in the Republic Liberation Fleet where he rose to the rank of Captain and even acted as a chief of staff for an Admiral... but that had been over five decades previously. He was an older man, who'd received one of the cheaper life extension processes, probably all he could afford. He showed his age, with gray in his blonde hair and a stooped posture, and his olive-skinned face was heavily lined. Garret personally suspected that the reason the officer hadn't progressed any higher was that he lacked a certain spark. His last couple operations had been by the book, methodical, and hadn't met with either great success or failure. From what Abigail had told him, even his most loyal supporters viewed him more as meek, mild mannered fellow.
Stavros gave a broad smile as his garish outfit drew attention. “I've been told to report for the planning session.”
Moore gave a sharp look over at Garret before he spoke, “Of course. I assume that your grudge with the War Dogs will be put aside for the duration.” The way he phrased it, it could have been a question, a statement, or an order. From the uncertain look on the older man's face, he wasn't really sure himself.
“I have no grudge with the War Dogs,” Stavros said with a grand wave, “We are all brothers in arms. Any misunderstanding between Commodore Pierce is already forgotten.”
Garret held back a grimace. In his opinion, Stavros was in the same category as Admiral Mannetti, a pirate who was not to be trusted. Still, by saying he had no grudge, that put the onus to behave on the behalf of the War Dogs. “I'll keep the peace,” Garret said.
“Ah, good,” Commodore Moore said. He brought up the briefing room holographic system. Since the entire annex was former Nova Corp property, it was state of the art. A fact which seemed a bit beyond the Commodore as he used only the most basic functions, with a simple, two dimensional overlay projected so everyone could see it. “Gentlemen, our mission is to strike a blow at President Salazar's main off-world ally at the Wenceslaus system. The Colonial's Republic Liberation Fleet Base there is the central hub for this sector and has been the source of replacements for President Salazar's losses. We believe a strong strike there will show them that they are not immune from attack and that their continued support of Salazar will not go unpunished.”
Garret grimaced at that. It was all well and good to say something like that, but hitting the RLF Fleet base in the system would be very difficult to successfully pull off. The Fleet Base would have dozens of warships and hundreds of fighters on station. Before he could open his mouth to say something, though, Stavros spoke, “Commodore, this sounds like a wonderful plan, really, but I'm curious as to how you think we can pull this off? Also, more of interest to a man like me... where's the profit in it?”
Garret couldn't really argue with either question. The privateers that Halcyon used to augment their forces relied on loot and plunder. Without some economic target, they were likely to be more trouble than use.
“There is a large shipment of civilian industrial equipment: excavators, farming machinery, even some heavy duty trucks,” Commodore Moore said. “Bought and paid for by Salazar Enterprises and currently interned at the Fleet Base because his family asked for the base there to protect it. Moving heavy equipment like that requires specialized transports, which we estimate will provide an adequate bounty, as will the equipment once we find buyers for it all.”
Captain Oronkwo shifted in his seat, the tall, black man was one of the mercenaries hired by Halcyon. His ships were corvettes, light and stealthy, but not well armed. Commodore Pierce had said he had a good reputation in the guild, but also that he was likely to take the breach of contract versus losing his ships in a standup fight. “If you don't yet have buyers, I'm not sure why we're targeting it. Yes, that will hurt your enemies, but it won't pay the bills.”
“We'll have buyers lined up before we get back. At the least, Halcyon has need for a lot of the equipment, I'm sure,” Commodore Moore answered. He didn't sound at all certain, but Garret could think of a number of uses for that kind of equipment. Particularly the mysterious project up around Brokenjaw Mountain.
“Well,” Captain Stavros Heraklion said, “I may know someone who could buy it all... at a severe discount of course.” He received a nod of acknowledgment from Captain Oronkwo. His broad grin at the commander was almost friendly as he continued, “So, Commodore, what's your plan for the attack?”
Garret's eyes narrowed. The pirate was being far too civil. Then again, Garret had heard that he had apparently killed another pirate, some relative of Admiral Collae or so the rumors went. Perhaps he was trying to ingratiate himself for some form of protection. Or maybe he just wants us to think he's a good sort so he can stab us in the back at an opportune moment, Garret thought darkly.
“Our attack plan is very simple,” Commodore Moore said. “We have the forces to take on the fleet base in a surprise attack. We'll emerge from shadow space at what I have labeled point alpha, at five hundred thousand kilometers from Bohemia. From there we will deploy in a standard attack pattern. Captain Penwaithe's Hammer Wing will deploy forward, Captain Oronkwo's corvettes will deploy on our flanks, and Captain Stavros and my own cruisers will deploy in the center. We will proceed at moderate acceleration, deploy missiles to engage their static defenses and then engage any mobile assets which mobilize to meet us.”
Garret stared at the Commodore for a moment, uncertain how to tactfully broach the flaws he saw with that plan. From the coughing fit by Oronkwo, he wasn't the only one to feel that way.
“That seems like a decent plan, Commodore,” Captain Stavros said with an overly friendly tone. “However, I do have a couple questions.” The pirate leaned over the holoprojector and adjusted the controls. The system expanded out, into a full three dimensional diagram, complete with many of the details which the two dimensional map hadn't held.
Commodore Moore opened his mouth to complain, but before he could, Stavros gave a broad wave, “I applaud your skill at simplifying the battlefield to eliminate distractions. However, I couldn't help but notice that your emergence point is actually outside our maximum missile range but still inside their detection range. That would give them sufficient time to launch their ready fighters and bring a number of their alert ships to combat readiness, without us being able to do anything about it.”
Commodore Moore flushed, “In theory, yes. However, I think with the force we can muster, especially with our cruiser strength...”
“The fleet base there has four wings of Patriot mark twos,” Garret said after a glance at the information. “That's literally more fighters than my Hammers carry missiles. Patriot mark twos are nasty to deal with for my gunboats, but they'll mount plenty of ordinance. The RLF force there can use their normal tactics, hit and run and break up our formation as we close... if we give them time to marshal their forces.”
Garret saw Oronkwo nod in response. Garret hated to agree with Stavros, from loyalty to his boss if nothing else, but the man had said what he would have. The plan would probably work, as Commodore Moore had laid it out. The problem was it would cost them, heavily. Out front, his Hammers would pay the butcher's bill, but heavy casualties among the flanking corvettes was almost a given against standard RLF tactics. In truth, the cruisers would be fairly well protected, which is why Garret was somewhat surprised that Captain Stavros had spoken up.
“But to emerge any closer, we run the risk of being caught too close to disengage if the enemy is present in force,” Commodore Moore said doggedly. “And any further away and we still run the risk that we'll be seen with adequate time for them to marshal not just their alert fighters and vessels, but also anything else in the system.”
“Commodore, you are the very fount of knowledge,” Stavros said with what sounded like absolute sincerity. “However, I wonder if you might consider the use of Captain Oronkwo's stealth systems.”
“I had considered that, but since the rest of our vessels do not have those capabilities...”
“My ships could go ahead,” Captain Oronkwo said. He scowled, almost as if he felt he'd been insulted by the Commodore ignoring his ships capabilities. In a way, Garret supposed he had. “We could not only scout out the system and report in, but position ourselves to strike their vulnerabilities upon your arrival, taking down their command and communications nodes or their sensor arrays to blind them and leave them vulnerable.”
Commodore Moore flushed, his olive skin dark, “Not that I doubt your capabilities, but I helped to design the sensor array in the Wenceslaus system. I know full well that it has overlapping arrays.”
“But this was before you retired, some twenty years previously,” Garret said. “And I doubt they've upgraded their systems since.” As he saw the Commodore's face darken still further, Garret hurriedly added, “While you used the best technology available, at the time, I'm certain without an officer like yourself to look after things, their maintenance must have suffered. Also, Captain Oronkwo's ships have the best stealth systems money can buy.”
Commodore Moore nodded slowly, “You do have a point, Captain. However, I am worried that with the delay of twelve day travel there, even with the five day journey back here, we will not be well positioned to benefit from his scouting operations. Also, things may well change drastically in that time.”
“That's an excellent point,” Captain Stavros said. “Captain Oronkwo, do you happen to mount one of the newer model ansibles on your vessels?”
“I do,” Oronkwo said with exaggerated patience. Garret winced at that. Clearly the mercenary captain had reached the end of his patience with the Halcyon Commodore, not that Garret could blame him.
“My own vessel mounts one as well, how wonderful,” Stavros said with another of his broad smiles. “That would allow us to coordinate, not only over distance, but to do so en route. A great boon.” He looked at Garret, “What range, would you say, Captain, would your Hammers be effective at with their improved ammunition?”
Garret frowned. That kind of information could prove deadly if the pirate sought to use it against them. At the same time, it wasn't something that Admiral Mannetti, at least, didn't have available from sensor data. “No more than thirty thousand kilometers.”
“My own vessel's maximum range is twenty five thousand kilometers,” Stavros said. He looked at the Commodore, “Your two Independence-class cruisers have a maximum range of twelve thousand kilometers with your heavy rail-guns, correct?”
Commodore Moore grimaced, “That's true enough.” He clearly didn't like to admit to a more limited range. Garret wasn't sure if that was because it made his ships seem older or less capable, or just some sort of inferiority in general.
“Well, then,” Stavros said with another broad smile, “Perhaps we can use this to our advantage, no?” He adjusted the diagram and highlighted the fleet base. It was a large station, with a modular design similar to most Colonial Republic stations. Half of it was in use by the civilian traffic in the system. That was, Garret knew, in part to provide some protection against a surprise attack. Although some pirates and even some Colonial Republic officers had shown the callousness to perform such attacks regardless of the civilian casualties, the hesitation to do so by anyone with even a sliver of a conscience meant most Colonial systems would accept the risk of making their civilians hostages to their enemies good behavior.
“We obviously can't hit the station without giving the civilian population time to evacuate,” Stavros managed to say that in a fashion that sounded as if he didn't really care. “However, we can freely engage any vessels in orbit, particularly if we emerge in a flanking position so our fire will not threaten the planet.” Stavros pointed at a position only a thousand kilometers above the planet's surface, inside the orbit of the station.
Garret nodded at that, although his rounds were 'smart' they continued to travel if they missed their targets. Atmospheric friction, at the speeds they traveled, would barely slow them. The missiles they carried, while more advanced and better maintained than the Colonial Republic ones, were still subject to the occasional glitch. If one coasted into atmosphere and smashed into a town, even without detonation, it would cause massive loss of life.
“My own vessel, also carries two squadrons of light fighters, ideal to screen the Hammers from any ready fighters while they engage real threats,” Stavros said. “While your own ships can launch missiles on any patrol vessels near to the planet, and we would be close enough that they would hesitate to fire back, at risk of hitting their own world.”
Garret winced at that. It was a cold thing to do and a terrible position for the defenders. They would have to chose between defending themselves and risking damage to the planet they defended. Their own fire would almost certainly strike the planet if they missed. Even interceptor fire aimed at missiles, particularly the thirty millimeter cannons favored throughout the Colonial Republic, could potentially penetrate the atmosphere to strike the planet.
“We can almost certainly destroy any vessels which do engage us at minimal cost to ourselves. Also, from there, your ships could move forward and board the station, take charge of any ships we wish to take, and we can depart.” There was some levels of risk to the plan, but it did offer substantially less risks to their raiding force, Garret thought. It's also one of the coldest ways to go about fighting: hit the enemy by surprise, use their own people against them, and put them in the position where they can die or surrender.
Evidently Commodore Moore felt even more strongly about it, “That's a terrible way to wage war, Stavros. In all likelihood we'd be killing ships and crews before they even had a chance to suit up or bring systems online. Worse, we'd be using their own civilians as weapons against them!” He shook his head, “It's just as well that we can't rely on any kind of navigation system to get us that kind of pinpoint accuracy to a shadow space jump.”
“Not a navigation system, no,” Stavros said, “But a psychic navigator? I wager mine could do it. And if you're worried about killing them when they're not ready... well, that's all well and good if you're the strong side, but Halcyon isn't. In all likelihood, those same crews you're worried about killing wouldn't hesitate to bomb your cities from orbit when given the orders... or to loot your cities, enslave your people, and have you and your crews executed for treason.” There was a cold edge to Stavros's normally emotive voice, as if he spoke from some dark experience of his own. Garret had heard that Stavros came from Greece, on old Earth. Perhaps he thought of how wretched life was there, with violent gangs fighting over the bones of the old, ruined cities or maybe it was something to do with the civil war in the Centauri Confederation, which claimed Earth.
Surprisingly, Captain Oronkwo spoke up as well, “Commodore, this is a war. We'll be engaging legitimate military targets. In particular, you'll have my ships there to spot for you ahead of time. With an emergence that close to the planet, we retain the ability to withdraw safely in case of any type of larger enemy presence, before they can safely engage us.”
Commodore Moore grimaced. “We'll need to review this, look over the calculations, particularly with the ranges of your ships and the probable locations of enemy vessels.” His voice was reluctant, yet Garret saw that his resolution crumbled in the face of his notional subordinates disagreement.
Garret looked over at Stavros Heraklion and met his gaze. For just a moment, his blue eyes seemed to have a strange, calculating look to them, as if he were trying to take Garret's measure. The moment passed though and the pirate's smile held nothing more than cunning and self-interest. The plan is good, Garret thought, not surprising considering it probably follows standard pirate doctrine, hit hard, put yourself in a position where the enemy can't fight. No wonder Stavros had survived so long as a pirate. He had enough bestial cunning to use civilized behavior against his enemies and enough intelligence to not cross over the line into atrocities that would have entire fleets after him.
Really, the plan sounded similar to one of Tommy King's raids that Garret had studied during his time in training. The pirate had brought his entire fleet into low orbit in the New Paris system and engaged the defending fleet from where they didn't dare return fire. He'd destroyed over a dozen Colonial Republic ships before the commander withdrew and then looted several of the planet's major cities and departed before a relief force could arrive.
Garret supposed he should be glad that Stavros was less successful a pirate than Tommy King. The legendary pirate had at least limited his ravages to specific targets, by and large. Stavros seemed too opportunistic to limit himself to targets over some kind of philosophical, ideological, or moral grounds.
Commodore Moore still seemed a bit shaken at having his entire plan discarded, yet done so in a way that he couldn't take real offense at. “Well, gentlemen, I'm glad we all worked together to form this plan and I look forward to our work together, which will no doubt build strong relationships we can depend upon.”
At his words, Garret felt his stomach twist. He wasn't certain if the Commodore really believed that or not, but it sounded rather like something he was told to say... perhaps from his political backers, maybe even the ones who wanted their alliance with Mannetti. A glance at Stavros showed another of his broad smiles, yet there was a predatory edge to it, one that suggested any kind of friendship with him would last only until he saw better profits in betrayal.
I'll keep my eyes open, Garret thought, even if the rest of my planet seems determined not to see the wolves they've brought in to guard the sheep, this is one sheepdog that isn't confused by their fawning behavior.
***
Lauren bit her lip nervously as she waited in the rented room. She had set up the rendezvous to meet with Mason away from both prying eyes and ears as well as away from the psychic who he seemed to trust implicitly. The Baron trusted her too, Lauren thought, but she's here, which means either she abandoned him or he sent her away. Either way, she didn't entirely trust the other woman, as friendly as she was.
Lauren didn't really trust anyone, especially not right now. She had begun to rethink a lot of her recent decisions of late. She wished she had someone to talk with, about some of her assumptions and about some of her feelings. I made my decision to follow Mason because I respected him, Lauren thought, because he offered me a different life and I was sick of losing people. Yet some small voice whispered that she had really accepted his offer to come with him because of some other expectations. Not that he had ever even hinted at any kind of interest in her, she knew, nothing other than the one kiss on Port Klast.
She wasn't certain that they would have full security here or that someone wouldn't manage to get some kind of eavesdropping equipment in place. She had obtained a room whose narrow window looked out on the blank wall of the next building over, with just a sliver of sky dimly visible above. Still, she hoped that their enemies would assume that Stavros merely had some tryst planned and not anything more sinister.
There was a sharp rap on the door and she checked the sensor she had mounted on it to confirm it was Mason before she opened it. “Were you followed?”
He wore his most inconspicuous of Stavros's normal wardrobe, a black shirt, barely open at the top, and gray pants. He gave her a smile as he slipped inside. “Of course. I shook them off at a brothel, though.”
She wasn't sure if he was joking or not, so she let the comment slide. She moved over to the room's single chair and gestured for him to take a seat on the bed.
He quirked an eyebrow at her as he took a seat, “What's the problem?”
Lauren took a moment to collect her thoughts. “What are your intentions with Lucretta Mannetti?” She didn't like the hard edge to her voice... yet she wasn't very good at hiding her disapproval.
He gave her a confused look, “Uh, find out her goals here, prevent her and Collae from stabbing your good Baron in the back, and maybe even find a way to bring the both of them down.”
“All well and good,” Lauren said. “But where in there does a make-out session fall?” It's not like I'm jealous of her, Lauren thought, I'm just worried about the effect she might have on Mason. She saw Mason flush and then set back. Something dark haunted his eyes for a moment.
When he finally spoke, his voice was even and measured, but she could hear how carefully he chose his words, “I'm not certain how you know about that, but I didn't plan for that to happen. I'm not going to lie and say that some part of me doesn't respond to her... but I'm also repulsed by her. There's some aspects of her that my darker nature are drawn towards. The way she's wired, the mentality that she can manipulate everyone is disturbing to me, not least because it reflects some of my worst sociopathic tendencies. She's dangerous in more ways than one, but my goals haven't changed.”
Lauren stood and put her hands on her hips, “So if you're not interested in her... shouldn't you think about how to handle the next little rendezvous she has planned?”
Mason's face went blank. “I hadn't really thought of that.”
“She doesn't seem like the type to take 'it's not you, it's me' very well,” Lauren said. “Matter of fact, there's a rumor that the Baron said something like that just before she stabbed him.”
Mason gave her a wry grin, “You do have a point there.” His face went sober. “Honestly, I was more focused on trying to earn her trust to find out her end game than I was concerned with what I'd have to do for her on a more... physical level.”
“Could you, if you had to?” Lauren asked. “Get physical, I mean?” For some reason, the question seemed very important to ask.
Mason looked away, “I suppose. I've done worse. But I really wouldn't want to do that.”
“Good,” Lauren said. “Good... because I don't like the effect she seems to have on you.” She certainly wasn't pleased because of any personal interest. It was just that she didn't want Mason to revert back to the man he'd been.
Mason's blue eyes met hers and she licked her lips, suddenly nervous. On impulse she leaned forward, caught his head in her hands and kissed him full on the lips. A shock went through her as her lips met his. It was like the shock she felt from when he had kissed her in the shuttle back at Port Klast, only a thousand times better for the fact that it was her decision.
She pulled back and her brown eyes met Mason's confused blue eyes. “Well, I'm glad we settled that,” Lauren said with a wicked smile. Her hands dropped to his shoulders and then the collar of his black shirt. Before he could open his mouth to speak, she leaned in again. This time the kiss was sharp, passionate, and full of hunger. Her hands tugged and she heard the buttons snap off as she ripped his shirt open.
Mason grunted in surprise and denial. Even so, his hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in tight. As she broke the kiss for a moment of air, he met her eyes. “This is a bad idea,” Mason said. Even so, his arms only seemed to hold her tighter, as if he were afraid she would slip away.
“I think it's the best idea we've had since we left Faraday,” Lauren responded as she ran her hands down his chest. Her fingers found the top of his belt and she smiled as she unhooked his belt buckle. “Let me prove it.”
***
Tannis Mercenary Transport Mule
Shadow Space
November 8, 2403
Garret grunted as he stared at his hand. He was seriously coming to regret inviting some of the new crew to his poker night. I should have played spades, he thought, but Heller likes throwing games just to get a reaction and no one else in the squadron can keep up with me. “I call,” he said, putting as much confidence as he could into his voice, “and raise you.” He dropped two bags of his precious coffee in the pot. They didn't normally play for cash, not aboard ship. Instead, they played for the little luxuries that made life a bit more bearable. Since they were on day four of their twelve day trip to Wenceslaus, they had some time to kill and the loss of those little luxuries was enough incentive to play for keeps. The tiny, cramped freighter that acted as their carrier wasn't much more than bare metal cargo bays and engines, with a large shadow space drive so that their Hammers stayed inside its drive field.
Heller didn't even bother to pull her ear-buds out, “Fold.” The diminutive blonde woman threw her cards down with no hesitation.
Jude looked between Garret and Abigail Gordon. The short, black man shook his head. He peered at Garret warily and when he spoke, his thick accent was heavy with suspicion, “You can't be that confident.”
“Too rich for you, Derstele?” Abigail asked.
Jude frowned and slowly put his cards down and slid them over to where Clint had the discard pile. The stocky man nodded slowly, “To rich for my blood.”
Jason pitched his cards without a word. Clint, who'd dealt the hand, scowled at his cards, and then back and forth between Abigail and Garret. The older man squinted at Abigail uncertainly, “Call.” He pushed a box of cigars into the pot, next to the two bags of coffee and the pile of gourmet chocolates. Garret cocked an eyebrow at Abigail as the bet went back to her.
Caela had already folded and just shook her head, “I can't get a hand to save my life.”
Abigail smiled confidently, “I call.” She looked over at Clint, who dealt the final cards. She didn't even look at her last card, “All in.” She pushed her current winnings, some scented soap bars, two vouchers for a massage spa on Halcyon, and some hand-rolled cigarillos from New Paris.
Garret winced. He could cover that with his coffee stash... but only just. If he lost, he'd be drastically low on the precious brew until his next shipment would arrive. Still, he couldn't let the others think the young ensign had bluffed him. He would never live that down. The smirk on Heller suggests that she'll give me enough crap as it is, he thought darkly. “I call.” He pushed four of his five bags of coffee into the pot.
Clint fingered his cards and finally shook his head. “I'm out,” he said. “Show your hands.”
Abigail whooped and flipped her cards, “Four Jacks, you got nothing, right?” Garret blanched and pitched his pair of aces. “I knew it!” Abigail crowed, “I'm the winner!” She drew her winnings to her with a giggle, “Sorry, Captain, but you're just as easy to read as I remember.” She held up the coffee bags, “And I don't even drink this stuff.”
Garret shook his head. He remembered, vaguely, playing cards with Jessica, her father, and Abigail over a decade previously, but he hadn't remembered her being so lucky. Then again, he'd been more focused on Jessica at the time. As I remember it, he thought, I kept throwing hands to let her kid sister win so Jessica would like me more.
“Another hand?” Clint asked, somewhat hopefully. Jason, his normal backup for playing just shook his head. Jude grunted sourly and shook his head as well.
Heller shrugged, ear-buds still in, “I could play more.” She hadn't really lost much, Garret knew. Heller, as in all things, was a calculating and shrewd woman... when she wanted to be.
Abigail looked somewhat conflicted. “I've got to run a full hundred hour scheduled maintenance on my Hammer before we get to Wenceslaus.” That would probably take her even longer than most, Garret knew. Not because she didn't know her business, more because she was incredibly thorough. Better, with her father's guidance, she knew mechanical systems very well and she had already caught a couple of their flight mechanics errors. Showing them up like that bruised some egos, but it also made them work that much harder. “Sorry, I got to go.”
“That leaves four?” Clint asked as Abigail, Jason and Jude left the cramped room. It was, officially, a supply room on the tiny vessel. Since the Hammer's flight crews ate a lot, that meant they'd managed to condense the supplies out of it early on in their twelve day journey. It currently served as their lounge.
“Yep,” Garret said. He still had the one bag of coffee and though Heller was devious enough to take it, he felt like he had to get some luck back at this point.
Caela smirked, “Now that the Captain's girlfriend is gone, maybe I can get some good cards.”
Garret felt his face go hard and he glared at the pilot, “You watch your tone. She's not my girlfriend... and she is an officer.” As mercenaries went, that didn't hold as much weight as in a professional military. It did, however, hold enough weight that Caela, as a warrant officer, should never make a comment like that... especially not in front of Clint, who was another officer.
Heller pulled her ear-buds out, “Caela, shut your pie-hole. You're just jealous that she's got a nicer butt than you.”
The warrant officer flushed, but even Garret snorted at the comment. Caela was notorious for both being extremely conceited and also for sleeping around with the other pilots. As always, Heller managed to diffuse the situation in a way that made the troublemaker look silly and without picking sides.
Clint looked around at the three of them, “Uh, cards?”
Caela frowned, “I think I'm done here,” she said, venomously. She pushed away from the table and all but stomped out of the room.
Clint groaned, but he put up the cards. “Shit, now I'm seriously down on trade goods for the rest of the voyage and she'll be all pissy and not want to play, Captain.”
Garret shook his head, “She should watch what she says, then.”
Clint just shrugged and stepped out. Garret looked over at Heller, “Really?”
Heller gave him a smirk as she put her ear-buds back in, “What, Captain? I'm right, your girlfriend has a much nicer butt than Caela.”
***
Wenceslaus System
Colonial Republic
November 16, 2403
Mason gave another glance at Lauren, but much like the past two weeks, she wore no expression beyond her professional mask in public. His own emotions about her were such a complex tangle that he didn't really know what to make of that. On the one hand, he couldn't deny the physical attraction he felt for her, had indeed felt for some time. It went beyond that, really, to a respect of both her capabilities and her determination. On the other hand, his history of relationships, ranging from friends to lovers was one that had left far more broken and battered lives than he even wanted to contemplate. The one constant in that category was the sooner someone got as far away as possible the happier they were likely to be in the long run. Once again he thought of Arela Savino and how the warm, caring woman had turned into a cold, sociopath he had eventually walked away from.
What he felt for Lauren wasn't the simple physical draw that Lucretta Mannetti gave him. That was there, to be sure, but there was something more, something Mason hadn't felt in so long that he hesitated to name it. It seemed absurd and part of Mason wanted to reject it all out of hand. Yet, there was no denying it and no denying the longing that kept him awake at night.
Kandergain cleared her throat and Mason tore his gaze away from Lauren to meet her eyes. The psychic woman had a slight smile on her face, as if she knew exactly what was going through his head. No, he thought, even a psychic couldn't read my mind when I don't know it myself. Got to be a female thing, he decided, they always seem to know or understand way too much when it came to relationships.
“We're almost there, Captain Stavros,” Kandergain said.
Mason grimaced, “Lauren, bring us to battle readiness. Mark, message Commodore Moore with our time to destination and the latest update from Captain Oronkwo.” They had updated the Commodore and the other vessels before, but it didn't hurt to remind them. Mason glanced at the latest update. The military ships were mostly at dock, all but a half dozen destroyers in the alert force. Those destroyers were at alert status, which meant their drives were online and their reactors were at standby power, ready to go to full power with even a few minutes warning. Captain Oronkwo hadn't wanted to risk going close enough to identify the destroyers classes, not that Mason blamed him. There had been a slight upgrade to the system's sensor net, primarily in tight orbit over the inhabited planet, Bohemia. The obvious objective was to cut down on smuggling, but it also prevented the mercenary captain from getting close enough for accurate visual inspection. Short of one of the ships going to full power for a full emissions signature, Oronkwo couldn't get a good read on them. In any case, those six destroyers were the primary targets for most of their raid force's firepower. Mason felt no real temptation to try a repeat of his previous attack at the Ottokar system. For one thing, the RLF ships at Wenceslaus had a nastier reputation, for another, anything less than lethal force would not be enough to dissuade the docked ships. Strong as their force was, the station had over a dozen cruisers and enough fighters to swarm them under if they launched all at once.
The clock ticked away the final minutes and Mason pulled his helmet out from under his command chair and racked it next to his console. A glance around showed that the others on the bridge were similarly prepared. A quick raid against minimal defenses or his berserk charge into the enemy formation at Ottokar hadn't warranted such preparations, not among the pirates that Mason had recruited anyway. Besides, Stavros was so certain of his own invulnerability that he had only acquiesced to Lauren's entreaty after a serious, and very public, argument.
Mason would have never tolerated such slack on any of the ships he had commanded previously, yet most pirates had serious slack when it came to not only their own safety, but their training as well. Lauren had run an inspection of gear, training and maintenance over the twelve day voyage and found far too many discrepancies, issues and outright hazards. Her punishments had been both inventive and educational. Mason grinned as he remembered how the cargo chief had spent the past ten days in not only his shipsuit, but also in his full fire-protective bunker gear. While Carlos Ortiz's proficiency with conducting his actual job might not have improved, he had become much more adept at checking his equipment, particularly after Lauren threatened to vent him out an airlock if he failed another of her inspections.
While the crew had settled into a surly state of hatred for her, Mason felt nothing but amusement and pride when he thought about it. She had shamed the man, yes, and rubbed his nose in the fact that he didn't meet even the basic standards needed to survive. That kind of discipline wouldn't work aboard an actual military vessel, but among the pirate crew, it was particularly effective.
On that thought, the last seconds ticked away and the gray nothingness of shadow vanished, replaced by a sullen red star and the huge spread of a blue green world that took up most of the port side. A glance at his screens showed Captain Penwaithe's Hammers had detached from their carrier vessels.
“Mark, get me a lock on those destroyers,” Mason said.
Mark Mendoza cursed a moment later, “Captain Stavros, those aren't destroyers, they're Liberation-class carriers, and they're launching!”
“Get me a target, now!” Mason snapped. He flipped a switch to connect to Khemali, “Launch now, we have enemy birds in the air.”
They had planned to engage any ready fighters from the station, but the Liberators were positioned in an entirely different area. Also, they were nasty little carriers, destroyer-sized but they carried three squadrons of either Patriots or the mark twos. Sure enough, fighter icons began to blossom on the screen from not only the station but from the carriers. “Hammers are engaging the station's ready fighters,” Lauren said, her voice tight. Mason couldn't blame her, those fighters each carried four fission warheads, and they faced over one hundred and eight fighters and four hundred and forty eight missiles if they managed to launch. Worse, they were on their flank, outside range of Commodore Moore's cruisers, barely in range of the Kraken's main batteries.
Finally the icons of the six carriers flashed to show target locks, “Engage,” Mason snapped. He didn't care about the crews they would kill, many still clambering into their gear. He didn't care about the fighter pilots who would die as their launch platform erupted around them. He just wanted them dead so they weren't a threat.
The heavy beams from the Kraken lanced out. The carriers were fragile targets, designed to launch their fighters at long range and not for the crucible of combat. Fire blossomed from their sides as Lauren swept the primary and secondary batteries across them. Two of them simply blasted apart, their hulls shattering under the heavy energy beams. A third one vanished in a pinprick bright flare as its fusion plant let go. The other three simply shattered, gutted by the continuous fire of the energy batteries.
But their fighters hadn't all died with them, Mason saw. At least fifty of the hundred-plus fighters had launched and Mason could see active radar already pinged him from both the station and the fighters. “Activate jamming,” Mason said. His gaze flicked over to the two elderly cruisers from Halcyon. They mounted chaff and jamming and Mason could see it deploy, even as the Hammers began to launch interceptor missiles at the inbound fighters from the station.
It won't be enough, Mason could see. If he were smart, he would remain in position, with the two cruisers in between his own ship and the inbound fighters. They would take the brunt of the fire. Indeed, they had better interceptor capabilities... but they were also better targets and lacked his own jamming capabilities.
Mason swore, “Those bastards want a fight, do they!” He turned to Kandergain, “Plot me a course, right down their throats!” Mason snapped and pointed at the inbound fighters.
He could see the consternation on the faces of his crew. That course would make the Kraken the primary target. Worse, it would bring them up and away from the planet, which meant any ships that launched would be free to engage them. He brought up a channel to Commodore Moore, “We'll engage the enemy head on, Commodore.”
The man stared at him with a stunned expression. Clearly he felt too frozen to make a decision. Meanwhile, the enemy fighter formations formed up. Mason cut the channel. Kandergain had already brought up the basic course and Mason brought the engines to full as he spun the ship hard over. “Engage the fighters with primary and secondary batteries, retain our interceptor fire for their missile launch.”
He flipped a switch to talk to Asara Khemali, the commander for his pair of squadrons. “Target any fighters or missiles which break through our main fire.” In a more professional outfit, he would have set up overlapping fields of fire interlocked to allow multiple methods of interception.
With his current crew, that was levels of training beyond them. Instead, he was going for volume of fire, which meant at least some of those missiles would get through, despite the jamming, despite the fire, and despite the evasive maneuvers that Kandergain updated his flight pattern with.
The Kraken had heavy defense screens for its size, almost as well protected as one of the Chxor ten-class cruisers, with several overlapping bands along the front, back, and sides. Even so, the ten megaton fission warheads carried by the Patriots would be enough to knock a screen down with even one proximity hit. If one went off in contact with the hull, it would likely destroy the ship, armor or no. That would be one hell of a lucky shot for Colonial Republic missiles and pilots, Mason thought, but there's about to be a lot of inbound.
As he thought that, Lauren opened fire. The heavier weapons of the Kraken were overkill for something the size of a fighter, yet they clearly had not been prepared for an attack at that range. Fighter icons died, still at twenty thousand kilometers, so far that their deaths weren't visible to the human eye.
Not nearly enough, though, as the others launched their payloads. They launched in a staggered, chaotic jumble as fighters volleyed their missiles hastily before going into evasive patterns. “Target priority is the missiles,” Mason said. “The fighters are no threat, now. We can destroy them later.”
Mason watched, outwardly calm, as the wave of missiles swept in. His ship had already moved out and in front of the two elderly Independence-class cruisers. A glance at his screens showed that they had begun to establish fire screens against the station's ready fighters as originally planned.
“Full jamming, full spectrum and with emitter variation,” Mason said. The Kraken's jamming went into full effect. The jamming emitters around the ship cycled and varied their strength. While most ships had one or two emitters, the Kraken mounted eight. That allowed them to not only jam in all directions but also to vary the position of that jamming, both forward and aft. In effect, the Kraken could change not just the frequency and strength of jamming, but also the position in relation to the rest of the vessel. That made it significantly more difficult for passive sensors to lock in on the source of the jamming as a target even as it blinded active sensors.
The flight of missiles went haywire as the jamming went to full effect. The simpler radar systems on many of the missiles couldn't compensate for the vast array of interference and almost a quarter of them went haywire or simply shut down. Mason winced though as the final reads on the missiles showed over two hundred still in flight. That number dropped as the main batteries engaged, but it wasn't dropping fast enough. They literally didn't have time to engage all those targets. They had under a minute before the wave of missiles would hit.
The remaining missiles were mostly blinded, but they were still homing on the Kraken. Mason had no eyes for the rest of the fight as he snapped out commands to Lauren at the guns and Kandergain at the controls. This is going to be really close, Mason thought, even as he slapped his helmet over his head.
Kandergain's uploaded maneuvers updated just as the missiles went into final attack mode. The Kraken rolled through a sharp turn and acceleration designed to shake them. Though the missiles could maneuver more sharply, the Kraken could almost match their acceleration.
The missiles began to detonate in a staggered series that washed out their sensors. The ship shuddered under multiple impacts, one of which hit hard enough to fling Mason against his chair restraints. Alarms began to blare and warning lights flashed across his console.
A glance at it showed that they had emerged mostly intact. The last big hit was one missile which had detonated against their port side defense screen and knocked it offline. The damage display indicated that they'd lost those induction coils along with a sizable portion of hull where it had blown out. He couldn't be certain of how bad the damage was until the crew looked at it because of all the sensors and automated systems down in that section.
Mason wasn't sure how many missiles had gone after the Kraken, but only a dozen or so had continued past, and it looked as if Commodore Moore's cruisers could handle those. He took a moment to check his own fighter squadrons. He blanched as he saw that both squadrons were gone. They must have been either too close during our final maneuvers or the enemy targeted them as well, Mason thought, my fault, I should have had them disperse more. He looked up at Mark Mendoza, “Review the sensor feed, find out what happened to Khemali and those Falkes.”
“Captain,” Mark Mendoza responded. The man's face was pale, almost as if he realized just how lucky they all were to still be alive, “They were forward of us when the missiles came in. I'm not sure... but I think the enemy had some interceptor missiles mixed in with the others. Either that or they had fighters programmed in as secondary targets. There were fifty-plus missiles that went for them just before I lost sensors.”
Mason grimaced. I should have pulled them back, he thought. Granted, he'd purposely chosen pilots he considered expendable, most of them were men and women that probably deserved to be taken out of the human race, but it still hurt to lose people to such a simple mistake. A glance at the faces of his crew, however, showed mostly shock as well as excitement. They didn't care that they'd just lost twelve pilots, they cared that they had survived.
“Well,” Mason said, “That was fun.” He looked over at Mendoza, “Message the enemy fighter squadrons. Order them to power down or we'll engage them. Any attempt to escape or attack and we'll destroy them as well. We need some replacement fighters. Tell them we're hiring pilots too.” He said the last with a broad smile, even though inside he wanted to swear.
“Yes, Captain,” Mark said. Like the others, his face was happy. They had stuck their head in the dragon's mouth and pulled it out. “Commodore Moore says they have received the station's conditional surrender.”
“Excellent,” Mason said. He unstrapped his seat restraints and stood. There was still the possibility of more fighting, but Mason felt too keyed up to remain seated. He could see that most of the enemy fighters had powered down as ordered. A couple tried to break for atmosphere and Lauren didn't hesitate to fire on them. The remaining ones powered down as their comrades craft flared and died.
Mason should have felt something, he knew, as they killed those pilots, but in his mind, he had already given them a chance to survive. War was no place for amateurs and responsibility for the losses of life fell at the feet of the commanders who hadn't prepared their men with better training and a more effective battle plan. Lauren looked over her shoulder as the last of the fighters powered down. “Send our combat shuttle to retrieve pilots and then we'll take as many fighters aboard as we can fit,” Mason said.
He forced himself to smile again, even as his blue eyes went cold. He had thought that he could use and discard the pirate crew without attachment, but despite the distance he kept and the disguise he functioned under, he still had a protective streak that made him want to keep them alive. They were scum, they were villains, but they were his scum.
And as he considered that... he wasn't sure if it was good or bad.
***
Chapter XII
Danar System
Chxor Empire
November 16, 2403
The three massive Crusader-class vessels emerged from shadow space well outside missile range from Delvar, the system's inhabited planet. Lucius Giovanni checked his display and nodded slowly as the ships began to disgorge fighters and parasite frigates. They had just enough Harrasser fighters, throughout the Fleet, for him to swap out the Raptor fighters for them aboard the three big ships. It had taken some modification of the hangar bays to facilitate the Harrassers, particularly for reloading them.
Lucius's dark eyes studied the formation as it coalesced. The parasite frigates were designed both for fighter and missile interception and also to engage and destroy light and medium craft. Basically they were there to allow the Crusaders to engage enemy capital ships and not to worry about smaller, more agile, threats.
The Harassers, in contrast, Lucius had armed with full loads, three heavy Mark V shipkiller missiles. As the sensor image updated, they began to shift into the attack patterns as squadron and flight commanders updated their pilots.
A wave of probes went out, many of them stealthed to give them better chances at survival, even as the big ships swept the area ahead of them with active radar, mass detectors, and even lidar. Combined with the massive energy signature from their drives, the three big vessels would be huge targets, easily identified by the Chxor forces in the system.
During the Third Battle of Danar, Admiral Ambrogino had attempted to sneak into the system after dropping out of shadow space well outside of the existing sensor platform visibility. The plan then had been to launch a heavy fighter strike on the Chxor vessels and to follow up with a close engagement by main line combatants.
The loss of the Praetorian, his carrier and flagship, to a minefield had thrown his entire force into confusion. His pilots, uncertain of reload or even recovery, had failed to launch one devastating strike and had instead operated under separate squadrons and flights. When his forces withdrew, Lucius remembered that some of the pilots brought aboard the War Shrike still had full missile loads. Admiral Ambrogino had survived, but his career had not. Which was unfortunate, because Lucius thought the man might have turned the war around if he'd received the backing he should have. Bad luck for Nova Roma, Lucius thought, but such is the way of war. He, at least, would be wary of such hazards.
As expected, the system was clogged, not only with defenses, but also with civilian and military traffic. Ensign Jiang highlighted enemy combatants as the various commands identified and confirmed them. Slowly the battle topography began to take shape and Lucius couldn't help but smile a bit. Apparently, moving more rapidly had not only caught their other enemies by surprise, but it had also shocked the Chxor.
“Caught them with their pants down, eh, sir?” Forrest Perkins said. The Saragossan's accent sounded sharply anachronistic for the time and place to Lucius. In part, he realized, because it was a former Nova Roma system and in part because in some ways, Lucius realized that he still identified with his homeworld.
Lucius quirked an eyebrow at the ensign, “I don't know that these Chxor reproduce that way.”
Forest snorted with laughter, “Well, sir, maybe they were a little confused. They don't have a ton of tactical brilliance, you know.”
Lucius smiled back, but his face settled into a solemn expression as he considered the overall threat. Humor aside, the Chxor still had a significant presence, with a sizable force in standby over the planet. As Lucius watched, other military vessels and systems went live. In some ways, he felt his suspicions aroused at how many ships began to power up, despite how far out his own force still was.
“Worried that they're keeping some elements in reserve?” Captain Daniel Beeson asked. The young officer had a confident expression, despite his words. Then again, he wasn't from Nova Roma so he couldn't feel the hovering doom that even Lucius had to keep at bay. The system, in many ways, had come to have a cursed feel to the Nova Roma Empire, even well before the war with the Chxor.
“Possibly,” Lucius said. “They have more than enough time to bring ships online if they want to come out to meet us. With the patterns of minefields and static weapons platforms, we'll have to take our time. Showing us their full count before we get close suggests they don't want us to look too closely.” Lucius spoke loudly enough for everyone on the flag bridge to hear. The flight time through shadow space from Melcer was only ten days. It was twice as long a voyage, in fact, than if they had stopped at the Tehran system and then come to Danar, in one of those vagaries of shadow space. That hadn't given Lucius much time to work with his staff and many of them were still painfully new at their jobs. Almost all of them were also involved in Captain Beeson's investigation... in one way or another. Two of them, Ensign Jiang and Lieutenant Moritz were deliberate selections to give the conspirators, or possibly both factions of conspirators, positions in Lucius's staff so that they didn't feel locked out.
We're just being very careful about what they see, Lucius thought. But more important to this battle, the entire staff had yet to fully learn how to work, both with each other and as extensions of Lucius's plans. They needed to learn how he thought to better function. The added distraction of investigating a possible conspiracy to overthrow their new government made that a bit more complex. They had all, thus far, impressed him with their professionalism and ability to think outside the box, but they all had some room to grow. While Lucius wished that he had Anthony Doko to back him, that was mostly because he had years to work with the other officer. They both knew each other and Anthony knew how Lucius thought and Lucius trusted him enough to leave many of the day-to-day decisions to the other man while he focused more long term. His loss meant that Lucius had to focus more and more on the details... and Lucius knew that his long term planning had suffered as a result.
Lucius watched the sensor feed continue to update and then turned his attention to the officers at their stations. Of them all, Lieutenant Moritz was the most at ease. He was pulled from under Captain Magnani to act as Lucius's logistical officer. Of them all, he had the least role in the coming fight. Whether out of caution or suspicion, he hadn't tried any of the 'creative' bookkeeping that Captain Beeson had already uncovered elsewhere. The tall, muscular Lieutenant was a native of Tau Ceti, though his records noted that his entire family had died in a Colonial terrorist attack, which had set him on his military career. In one of those oddities of fate, he had actually served as a pilot as an Ensign with a young Lieutenant Tommy King at the Battle of Rana, where apparently he had disappointed the Lieutenant to the point that he was taken off flight duty. His record showed that he had worked logistics after that, first in fighters, and then later for larger ships. He seemed friendly and competent, but very reserved, almost as if he subconsciously realized that he was an outsider.
Ensign Michele Konetsky was his communications officer. She was not only extremely proficient with the military communications equipment, but also a proficient programmer and hacker. She was the one who had allowed Captain Beeson to access some of the hidden files of the conspirators. She had a passionate hatred for the Chxor, matched only by her anger at the conspirators. Lucius had pulled her aside once after a staff meeting where she'd savaged Lieutenant Moritz for a relatively minor logistical error related to stocking communications equipment before their departure. Not that he hadn't counseled the man later, but it wasn't the Ensign's place to do that and she'd let her anger at his illegal activities get the better of her. She had taken the warning remarkably well and her behavior since, while icy, had at least been civil.
Ensign Forest Perkins was just the wild card that Lucius had expected. Which was to say that he continued to surprise Lucius in the time since he'd joined the staff. The Ensign seemed physically incapable of thinking not only inside the box, but anywhere in the vicinity of a box. His sense of humor and passion for odd and esoteric words and phrases was balanced by his love of old cinema, to include digital copies of movies from before humanity had achieved more than rudimentary space flight. It is good to be able to make obscure references with someone again, Lucius thought. The ensign was officially junior for his position as Lucius's Flag Lieutenant, but his age and experience allowed him to fill the role perfectly. His Saragossan accent, though, seemed to annoy not just former Nova Roma officers, but also some of the former Amalgamated Worlds officers. Which makes sense, Lucius thought, considering that Saragossa was a hive of insurrection activity during Amalgamated Worlds' reign.
Ensign Camilla Jiang was his junior-most officer, but had over six decades of experience as a senior noncomissioned officer under Amalgamated Worlds. She was one of the handful of commissions from after the Third Battle of Faraday. At the time, Lucius had been surprised at her decision to go for the officer track after years of intelligence work as a non-commissioned officer. If anything, he would have expected her to go warrant, yet given his knowledge about the conspiracy, it made more sense. She would be better positioned to influence people over to the conspiracy's position as the intelligence officer for a captain or commander rather than as an intelligence analyst. Alone of his staff, she had approached him, just two days before their departure, to request an appointment to his staff. She was well junior the official rank needed for the position of an Admiral's intelligence officer. Then again, Lucius had never bothered to promote himself, so his rank was still technically, Captain, even though he was the Commander in Chief of the United Colonies Military Forces.
Unlike Moritz, she had worked hard to integrate herself into the staff. Lucius had no complaints about her performance. If anything, she seemed very adroit at predicting what questions he would ask and finding an answer almost before he could ask them. The short, delicate Asian woman was originally from China on Old Earth, but had lived on Greenfall in the Centauri system before she enlisted. For whatever reason, Senior Captain Ngo seemed to be her patron and he'd been the officer to sign off on her commission packet. He also had her as his intelligence officer and Captain Beeson said that he thought at least some of the rumor network was either run or overseen by her. All of that was a shame, because her performance and apparent dedication to duty made Lucius wish that he could really trust her.
Lucius finished his mental catalog just as the initial estimates over the Chxor forces came up. His eyebrows went up and he looked over at Ensign Jiang. “That's all?”
She gave him a nod, her expression serious, “Yes, Baron, we're only detecting around forty of their Five-class dreadnoughts and a hundred and sixty of their cruisers. They've an additional squadron of dreadnoughts with their cruiser escorts in the outer system and another stationed near the salvage yard, but there are no signs of any other mobile forces in the system.”
Lucius's gaze went to the still evolving diagram of static defenses. Danar had served as a stockpile and construction site of both munitions and defenses. After Admiral Vibius had failed to destroy both the storage and construction facilities, the Chxor had captured massive stockpiles of those materials. The Chxor had made extensive use of those stockpiles, both in defenses throughout the system and even in firing Nova Roma missiles from their missile tubes. Since many of their systems were militarized versions of human designs anyway, that worked unfortunately well.
The display showed that the Chxor had cleared out much of their previous defenses after the fall of Nova Roma. The thick minefields around Delvar appeared much lighter, though it was hard to tell at this range. The first probes wouldn't reach the planet for several hours yet and they wouldn't know how thick the mines were until then. Most of the mines and static defenses were designed with at least some stealth capabilities... if only to lie passive until activated.
Lucius's forces had already identified three minefields in parallel orbits, designed to block the least-time approaches from typical shadow space emergence areas. Those minefields were much closer and data from scans of it showed fewer than expected contacts. For that to happen, they must have pulled mines out for use elsewhere, Lucius realized. He glanced at Ensign Konetsky, “Message Admiral Dreyfus's staff. Inform them that defenses are lighter than expected and that the Chxor may have shifted some to Tehran.” Admiral Dreyfus's force had left eight days after Lucius so that their two attacks would strike at the same time. He should just now have arrived and begun his own scans of the Tehran system.
Lucius frowned as he stared at the display. There were two probable routes for his force to advance with where the staggered minefields lay. The quickest was to go straight for the planet. Lucius liked that method, in part, because it would give the Chxor the least amount of time to prepare. If they were hurried, they were more likely to make mistakes. That route, however, would take them past Delvar's moons, both of which contained serious fortifications, some of which dated back to Amalgamated Worlds. The alternative was a more circuitous route which would bring them past the salvage field. With the vastness of space and the variations they could build into their acceleration and maneuvers, neither route was remotely fine-tuned, rather they were both more like corridors or avenues of approach. The other alternative he had was to bring their force above or below the elliptic plane and move that way, but that route would take longer with how the minefields were arrayed. But, time is an issue, he thought, those approaches would take too long and that's assuming they haven't any minefields in place to slow us further.
“We'll go with course bravo,” Lucius said and highlighted the circuitous route on the screen. Really, it was a somewhat odd decision to have to make. Few nations had enough resources to squander the sheer number of mines required to even somewhat restrict the approaches to their worlds. At best, they could mine blind spots in their sensors or sections directly above their planets in order to prevent surprise attacks. It was only the stupendous stockpiles they'd captured here at Danar that allowed them to do even what they had. This, of course, meant that it wasn't something most officers were used to planning around. Even the thinnest of the fields contained over a thousand mines in order to be able to cover the vast swath of space to have any effects on an invading force.
As his Fleet moved out, Lucius monitored the sensor feeds and running estimates. Now and again there would be an addition to the tactical overlay as they identified a defensive emplacement or sensor station. “It looks like the moons are even more heavily fortified than I expected,” Lucius said softly. “And that bothers me.”
“Sir?” Ensign Perkins asked.
Lucius glanced at Ensign Jiang, who gave him a nod, “I projected a certain expansion of the existing fortifications there, based on their excess industry in the system and their policy of conscripted labor in regards to local populations.” She phrased it nicely, but what she meant was that the Chxor would use slave labor to build fortifications as a means to eliminate some of the human population. “That they have put more resources into it, especially considering the strain that has been projected into their logistics suggests that they felt fortifications on those two moons has value.”
“Which doesn't make sense, considering that, even with missiles, they can't cover all of the approaches to the planet,” Lucius said. “Some of these,” he highlighted five of the new installations still under construction, “Look to be for energy weapons, like the ones on Faraday. Those would only be useful if any enemy had to come in close. That only makes sense if something else prevents use of the other approaches.”
Lucius didn't like that thought. He especially didn't like anything which didn't make sense, because whatever their other flaws, the Chxor were extremely logical. They still had several hours before the probes would be close enough for a real look at those approaches. Lucius looked around, “Alright, everyone make sure you keep to your rotation. I'm going to be in the briefing room.” Where I'll be reading through reports and monitoring the situation while pretending to rest, he thought dryly.
The pilots and crews of the frigates both were on rotations as well, to prevent exhaustion in the lead-up to the coming battle. As Lucius unstrapped from his chair, he made another mental note to monitor their rotations and to ensure their commanders took their required rest time.
***
Squadron Commander Thxan updated his logbook as the human attackers continued their approach. They had already defeated the first wave of their probes, with his squadron chosen to form the outer perimeter and conduct the sensor sweeps. After that, in the hours as the enemy force drew closer, he had conducted a full inspection of his flagship. While he had noted very few deficiencies, he made note of those. High Commander Chxarals had emphasized the importance of accurate reporting. His investigation report, sent out to all his ship and squadron commanders, had detailed extensive examples of inefficiency, false reporting, and even outright corruption that he had discovered throughout the Chxor Empire... a report which rumor had it, the Benevolence Council had initially ordered suppressed.
We will not fail our race,Thxan thought, we will report accurately and we will perform selflessly. In the privacy of his mind, Thxan could admit to a bit of what might be considered frustration. He had worked his way up to Squadron Commander through merit, in victory after victory, never with even a single flaw on his record... yet he had seen many of his fellow Chxor with less capable performance yet the 'right' caste being promoted beyond him.
Two of the names that he recognized from the report, System Commander Kleigh and System Commander Grxun were officers he had served with. The details of Kleigh's final failure were still incomplete, but the report went into exhaustive detail about his fabricated reports and falsified logbook entries. The report only justified expectations he already had in his mind and only confirmed a concern he had in regards to many of his fellow officers... a concern, it seemed, that High Commander Chxarals shared.
His logbook updates complete, Thxan turned his attention to the sensor display once again. He noted that the humans, as expected, had plotted a course that swung wide of both the planet's moons and their heavy fortifications as well as the interdiction minefields. Thxan had little doubt that the humans could eventually batter the lunar bases into submission, but that would take them some time. The lack of even a minor atmosphere meant that the deep-buried bunkers could survive multiple hits from even the heaviest of weapons. While many of the human fortifications had been repurposed, the human laborers acted as hostages there, as well. As do the humans on the planet, Thxan thought. While he understood some inherent value in protection of noncombatants, he thought the human squeamishness about their own people was another sign of their inherent weakness.
On that thought, High Commander Chxarals transmission went out. The High Commander's face filled the screen, broadcast in the open, to the human fleet. High Commander Chxarals was slightly taller than most Chxor, though just as heavily muscled. His flat face and squarish head were the Chxor standard, though his oddly dark yellow eyes caught attention, so different they were from the standard pale yellow. Like Thxan himself, the High Commander had a deep voice and he managed to speak the human tongue with almost no hint of an accent. “Attention United Colonies Fleet,” he said. “You have entered territory claimed by the Chxor Empire by right of conquest. The system and planet are ours. Any hostile action will be seen as a full declaration of war.” If Thxan had a sense of humor, he might have laughed at that. All Chxor knew that humanity's time had ended. The process of replacing them was not a war... it was an extermination.
“Furthermore, my orders in the system are that should it look that you even have a chance at victory, we will gas the major population centers on the planet with Pacifix Seven, a new nerve agent which our scientists assure me will render the planet unsuitable for human life for well over a century, killing, in the process, some six hundred million human inhabitants,” High Commander Chxarals said. “The same squadron that will apply this nerve agent will also destroy the shipyards, munitions facilities, and stockpiles rather than let them fall into your hands.”
“The choice is yours,” he finished, “High Commander Chxarals out.”
***
“Well, that's about as bad as we expected,” Lucius said as the transmission finished. He looked over at Ensign Camilla Jiang, “Pacifix Seven? Last I heard they were on four or five.”
“Evidently nerve gas is a priority of theirs, Baron,” She responded with a dry tone. She shook her head, “I don't have any data on it, but they have no reason to lie about its capabilities.”
Lucius nodded. He had no doubts about the determination of the Chxor commanders to follow through with their threat, either. Lucius's eyes went to the clock on the wall and then back to their display. “Okay, what do we know about 'High Commander Chxarals' over there?”
Ensign Jiang frowned and Lucius saw her bite her lip uncertainly. “Sir, data on him is extremely limited. Honestly, this is as far as I know, the first image of him that we've got. There is a note that he might have commanded the attack on Chi Yung at the start of the war with Nova Roma.” She took a deep breath, “Sir, this isn't based off any data we have, but based off his eye color I would guess he's of the Tigurd genetic line.”
Lucius's eyebrows went up, “Tigurd, that's supposedly a very tiny population.” It made some sense though. They were a rare breed, not because of population limiting, but because they were just incredibly infertile. Lucius did remember reading that they had an unusual eye color, but the report he'd read on that was from the original xenothropology team sent to make initial contact with the Chxor and it hadn't had any more details than that. “What would that mean?” Lucius asked, himself uncertain.
“Well, as far as I can tell,” Ensign Jiang said slowly, “there can't be more than a few hundred, at most, of the Tigurd. The handful that exist are almost invariably at the very senior ranks of the Chxor Empire, but almost never in what we'd consider a bureaucratic position.” She licked her lips, “The one that we can confirm is from a report of a Tier Eight Investigator, who acted something as a troubleshooter for the Benevolence Council.”
“So when they need a man of action who is absolutely loyal, they bring in one of them?” Captain Beeson asked.
“Maybe,” she responded. “Even Nova Roma wasn't entirely certain how the upper levels of the Chxor Empire are laid out, but the records we got from Emperor Romulus suggest that they fill a role somewhat like a Praetorian Guard.”
Lucius grimaced, “Okay, so they're probably very capable, very dedicated, and very loyal, but we don't really know for certain.” He really could have done without the capable part. He almost missed Kleigh; the self-centered, tactically inept Chxor officer who had pursued him across the Nova Roma Empire and beyond.
“They knocked out most of our first wave of probes,” Lucius said. “Which tells us two things, they don't want us to see what they're doing and that they know the advantage it gives us to have them in place.” The screening force was blasting with active radar across a vast swath of space. It made them excellent targets, but the screening cruisers also had their firefly systems engaged, which meant that a huge section of the planet had basically disappeared behind a wall of electromagnetic noise. To make matters worse, they had apparently installed installations with the same system on the moons. While there were only three on one and five on the other, those installations were far more massive than the Ten-class cruisers and mounted far heavier jamming systems. The blanket there had made it almost impossible to get detailed observation of the other installations. That was an issue because there was likely tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of human prisoners on those moons, being used as both slave labor and hostages as well.
The handful of probes that had survived were those they had sent above and below the elliptic plane. Those, ironically, had discovered extremely dense minefields set to interdict any attempt to attack from those positions. Since those weren't a stable orbit, Lucius had to assume that the High Commander had put those in place more recently. While they didn't completely block movement, they would have required several course alterations and would have severely slowed the progress of the attack. Navigating those minefields had dropped the speed of those probes, which meant they had halted them outside and above and below radar range of the screen. If they brought them up higher, they had the option to drop those probes down and try to peer behind the wall of jamming, but they would lose telemetry on them in the process. That, in turn, meant the probes would have to move on their own, limited, programming. Their only other option was to send them well above and below, but the ranges would be such that the probes limited sensor suites wouldn't be able to get much, if any data without going to active sensors and making targets of themselves.
“Right,” Lucius said. “We need to see what they're doing.” The enemy screen was over seventy thousand kilometers out from Delvar. That was still inside missile range and it also gave the enemy commander far too much room to both accelerate and maneuver without Lucius having any ability to see it. “Order both a second wave of probes and our surviving ones to go in together.” With both they would lose telemetry while the probes were behind the jamming, but at least when they cleared it Lucius could get some idea of what was going on back there.
He glanced again at the clock. Ideally, the Chxor commander would come out to engage them, but if they stayed within their current perimeter, the plan could, in theory, still work. It would just be a lot harder to pull off without massive civilian casualties.
Lucius's gaze went to the display. The second wave of probes went out, a mix of stealth and standard probes to maximize the chances that a few would get through. He felt like he was missing something. The enemy's jamming was a danger, one that kept him focused on it. It felt a little too convenient though. Yet at the same time, he didn't know what he could be missing. The enemy dreadnoughts had already been identified at long range as they powered up.
His gaze, again, went to the lunar bases. They were powerful enough that they would dissuade any commander away, especially given their tidal-locked orbits which left such a wide expanse open, with nothing beyond a few minefields designed to channel an enemy force...
His gaze locked on the salvage field, which occupied the point diametrically opposite the two moons. Logically they would have to pass around or through the salvage field, where the hulks of thousands of ships and debris from countless battles had been corralled to feed Delvar's industry. That field held the wrecks of ships from the multiple battles for the Danar system, going all the way back to when humanity had first occupied the system as a buffer.
It was already too late for Lucius to avoid passing near it.
“Retask probes,” Lucius said sharply and his gaze went to Ensign Michele Konetsky. “I want a full scan of the debris region, active radar, as close as they can and full emissions sweep. If they find anything, I want a visual sweep as well.” He pursed his lips, “And task half the surviving probes from the first wave to go above and below the jamming wall.” They wouldn't get a good look at what was going on there, but they would get him something.
He just hoped it wouldn't be what he expected.
***
Squadron Commander Thxan realized exactly when the enemy had figured out their plan. This human, he thought, is crafty, though it is too late for him. The human probes near the salvage field went to active radar at the same time as some few probes jetted above and below his screen and they too went to active radar. Though if they need that to see Fleet Commander Krxil's ships then the humans are even less competent than expected, he thought. The Fleet Commander's vessels were at maximum acceleration, which meant they should easily be visible.
“Launch missiles at these, let us not let them get a good look just yet,” Thxan said as he highlighted the probes above and below his formation. Since they had gone to active sensors they glowed like beacons. It galled him, a bit, to have to use his missile tubes for the task, yet they were out of range of his other systems. Not that it really matters at this point, he thought, the humans can see their destruction coming now, it is too late for them to halt it. Even the stupendously large ships of these humans could not withstand this attack, surely.
As the missiles went out, Squadron Commander Thxan's attention went to Fleet Commander Krxil's force. It had already built up acceleration and would pass through his screening force in only a few minutes while it continued to accelerate. “Prepare for Fleet Commander Krxil's passage,” he said. “Execute rotation and cease jamming.”
***
Lucius bit back a curse as his probes showed the accelerating Chxor fleet behind their stationary screen. If they continued to accelerate for the next few minutes, they would reach Lucius at the same time as he passed near the debris field. Since they couldn't help but see his ship's drives, they could be certain to position themselves on whichever side he chose to pass the salvage field. And as he thought that, ship icons began to appear in the salvage field as well.
“Baron,” Ensign Konetsky said, “Upwards of one hundred dreadnoughts and four hundred plus cruisers detected in the salvage yard.” There was more than a little irritation in her voice and she shot an angry look at Ensign Jiang, almost as if she blamed her for not suggesting they look there.
“Well, this all got a bit more interesting,” Forrest Perkins said with a laugh.
“Yes, it did, didn't it?” Lucius asked. He bit back a laugh of his own at the gallows humor of the situation. The three massive Crusader-class ships were far tougher, larger, and more capable than even a squadron of Chxor dreadnoughts. Each ship mounted extensive jamming systems, chaff launchers, and even multiple decoy systems as well as the heaviest defense screens ever created by mankind. In addition, they were studded with weapon turrets, with heavier firepower than anything else in space. Forty of the Chxor dreadnoughts would have been a tough, but doable fight, particularly with the Harassers break up the Chxor's screening formation. But a hundred and forty dreadnoughts was a different story, altogether... and right now, Lucius was headed directly for them.
The parasite frigates were heavily armed, with huge offensive firepower, but they couldn't take even a single hit from one of the dreadnoughts primary batteries. If they had the rest of the Dreyfus Fleet's original screen... well, then it might be an even fight, but Lucius had used those ships on a different mission, one he couldn't regret even at the likely possibility of defeat. At least, Lucius thought, with all the enemy ships here, Admiral Dreyfus should face a lighter force than expected at Tehran. He wondered if this massive response were some effect of his sending Kral to infiltrate the Chxor Empire. Did they see the United Colonies as a much greater threat, now?
At this point, his big, ponderous ships had only three real options. They could accelerate and attempt to limit the engagement time. That would minimize the Chxor's opportunity to hammer his ships and would probably save his force... but it would also shoot them past the planet and meant that Lucius's own vessels wouldn't have time to break the Chxor formations to do any substantial damage of their own. At best, it would be a draw, at worst, the enemy might cripple one or more of the Crusaders which would also effectively mean the loss of whatever parasite frigates and fighters couldn't leave the system. He could maintain the current course and engage the Chxor on their terms, which would be an engagement of several minutes, at least. During that time, the enemy would pound his ships and make extensive use of their firefly jamming systems to blind his sensors and disrupt his communications and orders to his frigates and fighters. In that kind of fight, the Chxor would have every advantage, both in numbers and in the ability to negate many of his ship's advantages.
The last option was to reverse acceleration and slow his own ships. That would buy him some time, but in the end, it was fundamentally identical to the second option. Except, Lucius thought, my force isn't limited to one speed... or just one option.
“Message to the Harassers,” Lucius said sharply, “Full acceleration on course...” he glanced at his screen, “Three nine five.” That would swing them low and inside their course, decelerating to prolong the engagement, which was opposite what fighter doctrine should be. It would swing their formation past the inside of the salvage field. “Full orders to follow.” He saw Ensign Konetsky begin to update the various flight commanders. “Message to parasite frigates...” he took a deep breath, “Maintain current vector seven three, course one three six.”
“Right down their throats, eh sir?” Ensign Perkins said. The frigates course would bring them directly towards the approaching force of forty dreadnoughts on the outside of the debris field. It was, quite literally, a suicide course. The eighteen frigates had the acceleration to avoid that engagement for another thirty minutes, but they wouldn't survive long in the system without the support of their parent ships. “Yeehaw.” His tone, if anything, was more than a little ironic.
Lucius nodded, “Right down their throats.” He glanced at his display again and considered the timing very carefully. His gaze went to the clock again. The timing is everything on this, he thought. “Crusader squadron, orders are as follows...”
***
Fleet Commander Krxil monitored the display and the updates from the system sensor net. The humans had, somewhat inexplicably, ignored the static sensor platforms seeded throughout the system. Either they assumed that they would take the system and therefore want to use them or they simply didn't care about the advantages it gave him.
Granted, they didn't allow for targeting the human ships, but they did allow him to track their general formation and the power signatures of their three monstrous ships. That led to a great many questions, both about their commander's plan and also about how the human had, thus far, managed such successes against the Chxor Empire. In particular, he did not understand the purpose of the enemy frigates course.
The human formation had split. Which seemed counter-intuitive, in that the humans must realize that there was strength in numbers. Still, he could somewhat understand the separation of the fighters, but to send the smaller escort vessels on a separate course, one that swung around the debris field, seemed to invite defeat in detail, particularly since they maintained their original course even as the three massive ships slowed their overall velocity relative to his own force as well as that of High Commander Chxarals. At the current rate, the enemy force would be split, with the three ships and most of the fighter force passing on one side of the debris field and the small escort force on the other
Granted, their fighters could break off from that attack. The human fighters had more than enough acceleration to join the escort frigates, but that would leave the three capital ships entirely on their own.
“Message from High Commander Chxarals,” Communications Officer Klxan said. “He orders us to engage the frigates while he will engage the larger ships. He's asked that we retain our missiles for interceptor fire against the enemy fighters rather than to use them against the frigates.”
“Understood,” Krxil said. In truth, he thought the High Commander's plan was overly complex and smacked too much of the human's tendencies to take risks. With a hundred and forty dreadnoughts, they could have met the humans in a direct engagement and driven them off. Still, he could admit that the opportunity to destroy them did maximize efficiency. There was a good chance that if they saw the entire strength that the Chxor Empire had marshaled that they might not have risked the fight at all.
“Maintain our current course,” he ordered. “Cease acceleration and monitor the enemy maneuvers.” He stared at the eighteen small vessels on his sensors and he tried to understand what sent them on their course. Could it, perhaps, be a distraction? They had to know that they couldn't seriously harm his force. Perhaps they merely wished to draw his own ships away from the fight. Yet surely they had to know that their capital ships were no match for a hundred dreadnoughts with their entire cruiser screen? Even with the fighters, the ships would be over-matched.
Krxil thought suddenly of his creche-mate, Kral, who had, as far as he knew, died at the hands of these same humans. Kral had not had the same opportunities as Krxil, and had served under the failure Kleigh, where he'd been sacrificed when the humans had lured two dreadnoughts out of position to be hit from behind by additional forces.
Krxil would admit that Kral was the most introspective of his creche-mates. He possessed an ability to take a problem apart... and Krxil had a sudden thought that if he had his old companion present he might figure out the purpose of the humans maneuvers.
***
Lucius checked the clock again and then glanced at the sensor repeater. It showed the Chxor forces fairly accurately at this point. Both the primary forces had gone into their battle formations, with their cruisers positioned to interdict fire and block sensors with their firefly jamming systems. The original screening force had begun to advance as well, probably with orders to intercept any battered wrecks that managed to survive and destroy them.
The last Chxor force was also where expected. A single squadron of four dreadnoughts and sixteen screening cruisers sat in orbit over Delvar. Their drives were on standby along with most of their other systems. The Chxor didn't mind if Lucius could see that force, it was there as a final threat. They were the Chxor insurance policy... they were the one threat that, no matter what, Lucius's force couldn't deal with before they did their work. While the Danar system had a vital strategic value, the loss of the planet and it's people was not something that Lucius could stomach.
The coming fight, though, weighed almost as heavy on his mind. He looked over at Ensign Jiang, “You've sent the last update from our sensors?”
On that thought, the timer on his display wound down the last seconds.
***
Squadron Commander Fxuhkd was new at his job. He wasn't a very talented officer, he knew. Nor, in fact, was most of his crew very good at their jobs. His ship, 529897, was one of the newest out of the yards at Karis, along with the other ships in his squadron. He knew that was why his squadron was selected to stay back in orbit over the planet. It only made sense, to him, to have the least skilled and experienced vessels in that position... especially since they could complete their mission with their minimal training.
Their shuttles were already prepared, their toxic cargoes loaded and spray systems installed. The crews didn't even need to wear protective gear, as the nerve agent had no harmful effect on Chxor. It even, he was told, had a scent rather like Chxor rations. The planet would be sterilized of human life and most of their higher function livestock.
In truth, Squadron Commander Fxuhkd didn't know why they hadn't already used Pacifix Seven on all the inhabited human worlds. Certainly it would be a time consuming operation to clear the bodies and there would the the loss of conscripted labor, but these were small prices to pay in the process of clearing out the inferior humans.
All the same, he would not have the opportunity to deploy his shuttles, he knew. The human force was entirely outmatched by High Commander Chxarals. They would be destroyed well clear of the planet. Which was just as good. From what he understood, there were issues with the supply chain and his ships were the only ones with enough supplies of nerve agents to deal with the planet.
As he thought that, his sensor officer looked up suddenly, “Squadron Commander, it seems we have an unexpected convoy which has just arrived. They aren't transmitting any recognition codes that I recognize though.”
Squadron Commander Fxuhkd looked at his sensor display. He tried to identify the ship classes, but with the large number of human cargo ships pressed into service, it wasn't unexpected that he failed. “Hail them, inform them to identify themselves and their cargo and destination.” It would be good to get some additional supplies in, they were low on parts and equipment, and many of the systems on his new ship didn't work quite as well as they should.
“Squadron Commander, we are being hit with targeting sensors!” The sensor officer said. “The ships, they are the enemy!”
***
Commander Boris Kaminsky grinned as the Nagyr-class battlecruiser Roosevelt Forest emerged from shadow space only five thousand kilometers from the Chxor squadron. They had worried, initially, that they might arrive well outside energy weapons range, which was why they had a heavy contingent of Archer-class destroyers to augment their missile salvos. Almost perfect, he thought with satisfaction, at this range, there's no need to use missiles and to cap it all off, I'm in command, the only thing better would be if Forrest were here. Boris had transferred aboard and served as the Executive Officer since just after the Third Battle of Faraday, when the last XO had been killed in action. In one of those bizarre accidents, Captain Alexi Norov, the commander of the Roosevelt Forest, had choked to death in his quarters while dining alone. That left Boris as the senior officer.
“We have the enemy locked, sir,” Lieutenant Sing said, her voice nervous. Boris could vaguely understand why. They were bringing three Nagyr-class battlecruisers, three squadrons of Champion-class heavy cruisers, and four squadrons of destroyers against four Chxor dreadnoughts. The engagement, even with surprise on their side, should have been nearly suicide.
Then again, Boris had led a flotilla of mining ships against a dreadnought squadron, so he wasn't terribly worried. At least I'm not back in the Centauri Confederation, he thought, though I wouldn't put the Chxor Empire much above that place. The Chxor were callous, cold, and viewed human life as expendable. At least they had the excuse of being aliens, unlike the leaders of the Centauri Confederation.
Boris waited for the order. Captain Gregor Malkoski had overall command. The former Amalgamated Worlds Captain had made it expressly clear that as the commander, no one was to fire until he gave the order. Boris didn't like his attitude, nor did he like the rumors about the man... or the way he had immediately started to try to win Boris over after his surprise promotion. Still, Boris had survived under the cutthroat politics of the Centauri Confederation Fleet. He knew how to hide his distaste... and that he needed to speak with the Baron as soon as possible regarding some of what he had heard.
That's for another time, he thought, as the order finally came through, “Today, we kill Chxor. Open Fire!” he roared.
The Nagyr battlecruisers mounted three heavy fusion beam mounts in three turrets. The Champions mounted two in three turrets. All together, over one hundred and forty directed fusion energy beams lanced out at the Chxor dreadnoughts from only five thousand kilometers. The four dreadnoughts didn't have their defense screens online. Their drives were at standby mode. The only crewmen at full readiness were the shuttle crews, which meant when the beams ripped through the dreadnoughts armor, they died with their shuttles as opposed to dying elsewhere.
The fire of the destroyers was almost an afterthought as their lighter energy weapons raked the Chxor's escort cruisers. The heavily armored cruisers were battered by the volume of energy weapons fire. Two of them were completely gutted, reduced to empty hulks, their entire crews slaughtered in the torrent of fire. All the rest were heavily damaged, their crews thrown off by the attack without warning.
Boris brought up imagery from the high resolution video. He felt a grim satisfaction as he watched bodies tumble out of a rent in the hull of a dreadnought. Good optics on these, he thought with satisfaction at the clear image. He updated the targets from Captain Norov's feed and smiled as he settled back in his command chair, “Hit them again!”
***
Fleet Commander Krxil stared at his screens for a long moment. He wanted to find some rational explanation for the complete destruction of Fxuhkd's squadron. I should have put a more capable commander there, he thought. Yet, even as he thought that, he couldn't say whether that would have changed anything. The squadron was so far back, that the logical thing was to leave its systems on standby.
Yet obviously, the humans had planned for that assumption. They had baited High Commander Chxarals' forces away from Delvar with their main force. As he realized that, he also realized that perhaps his assumptions regarding the frigate force were also wrong... perhaps dangerously so.
“Message High Commander Chxarals,” Fleet Commander Krxil said. “Ask him if we have any video sensors in range to confirm the presence of the three behemoth vessels.”
***
Lucius smiled a bit as his independently mobile forces secured the orbit of Delvar. The only forces even remotely in position to do anything about it was the original screening force, which had already begun acceleration outwards and was badly out of position. It had been a massive risk
He smiled a bit more as he noticed the secondary timer on his countdown flash the last few seconds away. Lucius looked over at Captain Daniel Beeson, “We might just pull this off.”
The Crusader-class ships were huge, with massive engines, huge reactors, and serious energy signatures, so powerful that each one was visible on sensors well over thirty light minutes away to even the most basic of electromagnetic sensors. The radiation emissions of their drives, alone, could cook a person in a normal environmental suit if they were out on the hull. Each of the Crusaders was over ten thousand meters in length. They were three thousand meters wide and over a thousand meters tall. The sheer size meant that the very idea of stealth or even concealing such a ship was not just absurd, it was positively ludicrous.
Even so each of the ships had three decoys, each of them the size of a normal cruiser and essentially entirely made up of reactors, jamming systems, and electromagnetic emitters, all designed to match the emissions of one of the Crusaders as closely as possible. Those decoys were normally deployed in the middle of combat, the better to fool an enemy. Each one possessed its own drives and limited maneuvering capabilities, though they weren't designed to operate for longer than ten minutes at most before they ran out of power or their systems burned out. This wouldn't be an issue in combat, where they were likely to be hit and destroyed by enemy fire. However, if someone had the hair-brained idea to cycle through the nine in order to keep three of them operational for over forty minutes...
On that cue, the first of the Crusader icons on path to intercept the hundred dreadnoughts flickered and died. Only seconds later, the next followed. The last one continued for several more minutes before its signature slowly began to dim. All of this took place in the final minutes before the larger Chxor force reached missile range. At the same time, the actual Crusaders lit off their drives and brought all their systems up from standby mode to full power in position behind the eighteen frigates which had screened the big ships as they were powered down. A detailed scan or even just a visual sweep couldn't have missed the three massive ships, but the Chxor hadn't bothered, not when they had the emissions from the drives to see clearly.
The Chxor realized that they had made a critical blunder. That was when the almost two hundred Harrassers launched their missile loads and sharply broke away... to leave the second Chxor force with nothing to fight... nothing to do but try to survive as almost six hundred of the Mark V shipkiller missiles came at them.
Lucius could mentally picture the Chxor commander's expression, faced not just with the loss of his insurance policy... but the knowledge that he was terribly out of position. The Chxor did feel emotions, Lucius well knew, and shock and surprise took just as terrible a toll on them as it did humans.
“Inconceivable!” Lucius said, in a mocking, high pitched tone.
The laughter on his flag bridge was most gratifying... even if only Forest Perkins got the actual reference. I really need to get some of the old classics distributed, Lucius thought.
***
Fleet Commander Krxil used a word that probably would have put him in some jeopardy if reported to any kind of Investigator. Then again, as the three huge ships lit off their drives again directly in his path, he wasn't very certain that he would be around much longer.
“High Commander Chxarals sent an orders update,” his communication officer said, her voice level despite the magnitude of the error. “Engage and destroy the main force. He is unable to maneuver in time to provide support.”
“I realize that,” Krxil said. He refrained from further commentary on the High Commander's orders, however. For one thing, it would be counterproductive. For another, it might well get back to the High Commander, if Krxil, against all odds, managed to survive the coming fight.
He could do the math in his head, much less with the aide of his console. The enemy fighters had launched on High Commander Chxarals's force of dreadnoughts. The inbound missiles had similar profiles to the shipkiller missiles of the Chxor, which meant they would hit in just under three minutes. That would force Chxarals to maintain his formation for that time. After that, he would be free to attempt radical maneuvers, but even if he could have already, his ships didn't have the acceleration to cut the widening distance. They could and probably would volley missiles to support him, but they could not get into position to hammer the enemy capital ships with energy weapons, not without completely canceling out their outward vector and coming back in again, which would take hours.
The enemy fleet, on the other hand, was perfectly in line with his own force. Krxil could attempt to break away, but the enemy ships had similar acceleration profiles, and if he did so and failed, his ships would present their rear sections to the enemy, giving them not only more distinct targets, but also negating many of the advantages of his screening cruiser's firefly systems. Better, he thought, to face them head on.
As he thought that, he saw the fighters' missiles begin their final attack runs on High Commander Chxarals' force. As ordered, his own ships had already begun to fire interceptor missiles. Even so, the enemy shipkillers were nastier than expected. Interceptor fire seemed to detonate them in glaring pinpricks of light. Data from the screening cruisers made Krxil reevaluate his own survival downward a bit more.
Then the first missiles began to strike home against the Chxor screen. Moments later, the missile engagement was over. The Ten-class cruiser screen had served its purpose. Most of those cruisers had lured in two or more of the missiles. Remarkably, more than three quarters of the cruiser screen remained, though many of the ships leaked atmosphere and trailed debris. Krxil saw damage icons among all the surviving cruisers and among the lead elements of the dreadnoughts as well, though clearly only a handful of missiles had penetrated their defenses.
“Prepare for initial engagement,” Fleet Commander Krxil said. “Initial wave of missiles will be very heavy, priority is interception.” A check against his display confirmed what he had feared. The fighters had just enough acceleration to reach the capital ships and presumably to reload and rearm. “Expect a secondary wave of missiles from the fighters after they rearm.” That one would be the more dangerous of the two, because the losses in his screening cruisers would leave his dreadnoughts exposed.
“For the glory of the Chxor,” Fleet Commander Krxil said, just as the enemy launched their first salvo.
***
Lucius shook his head a bit as the Chxor formation tightened still further. While the other Chxor commander had chosen to position his cruisers to take the entirety of the missile flight at the loss of the ability to have overlapping fields of fire by the dreadnoughts, this commander had chosen otherwise. His ships looked to be more evenly spaced, though it was damnably difficult to tell through the firefly systems.
“Brave bastards, I'll give them that,” Captain Beeson said grimly.
“Doesn't matter how brave they are,” Ensign Perkins said. “They're about to get some of what they deserve. And those other bastards already got some!”
Lucius shrugged slightly. He actually felt a bit conflicted about the losses amongst the screening cruisers. He knew well enough that many of those cruisers had conscripted human crews. Yet there was nothing he could do about that, not right now. The cruisers screened his enemy... and the men and women who served aboard them, willingly or no, were in a position where they left Lucius the choice of engaging them or dying.
“Fire,” Lucius said. As one, the three Crusaders opened fire. The three ships each carried two thousand of the Mark V shipkiller missiles in external, armored cells. They could have fired that in a single launch, but they didn't. For one thing, that would leave them with nothing else to fire later and would require hours to reload, even with the automated loading system. For another, until they cleared the screen, their only targets for the missiles would be the cruisers. We don't really want to kill the cruisers, Lucius thought grimly, we want the dreadnoughts.
Instead, they fired 'only' eight hundred of the missiles. The parasite frigates didn't fire their external racks at all. Their additional fire weight was trivial. They retained their hundred and eighty shipkillers for when the enemy drew even closer.
The first salvo went in and was met with interceptor missile fire from both Chxor forces, though the fire from the secondary Chxor force died off as they passed out of range, replaced by a volley of shipkillers. The hundred and twenty missiles seemed paltry in comparison, but Lucius didn't discount the threat. “Frigate Squadron 214 to intercept. I don't want anything to get through.”
His gaze went back to the main target and he smiled grimly as the missiles went into final attack mode. This force was smaller, but he could admit that they fought better. They stopped over a third of the inbound missiles, many of it through the overlapping defense and what had to be very tight-knit fire control measures. A very sharp commander over there, Lucius thought.
The wave of missiles broke over the enemy formation and it disappeared for a moment under a wave of detonations. When the hash cleared, over half the enemy cruisers had vanished, replaced by incandescent clouds of gas or broad swaths of debris. The dreadnoughts positioned to lend their fire had not come off unscathed, either, many of them showed damage in lower power signatures or with collapsed defensive screens.
“Second wave, fire,” Lucius said. Even as he spoke, though, he saw that the enemy cruisers closed formation and the gaps vanished. It took a special kind of leader to get his officers to respond with such precision in that kind of maelstrom, Lucius knew. He made mental note that, assuming he survived, Lucius wanted to meet the Chxor who could manage that.
The second wave washed over the enemy formation and this time there were enough gaps in the jamming coverage and too few of the screening cruisers to take the full impact. Over a dozen of the enemy dreadnoughts died, battered into lifeless wrecks or simply vaporized like the smaller cruisers. The remaining dreadnoughts were all damaged and at least two of them staggered out of the formation, either too damaged to maintain a steady course or their commanders panicked.
The range had descended to thirty thousand kilometers. Lucius was tempted to fire another volley, but as the range closed, he changed his mind. Power stores were low, and each missile used now was more production capacity they'd have to use later. And at this range, they would be in energy range before the missiles hit home anyway.
Besides, the enemy formation was a shattered thing. Without the support of their shielding cruisers it was a fair fight once more. Lucius updated his target priorities, even as he gave a glance at the overall battle. Somehow, it looked like he'd pulled it off.
The enemy began to fire their energy weapons, capital class fusion projectors, similar in design and principle to those of the Dreyfus Fleet. The Crusader shuddered under one hit and then another, but the heavy defense screens and heavy armor held, for now. Also, the enemy's shock and surprise showed, for their initial fire was badly coordinated and poorly aimed. As the range dropped, Lucius gave an icy smile, “Engage.”
Each of the Crusaders mounted sixty four fusion projectors turrets, each with four of the capital class fusion projectors. In addition, each Crusader-class ship mounted an additional sixteen turrets, each with four of the colossal super-capital fusion projectors. When those sixteen turrets fired, the massive ship shuddered at the energy release, which noticeably decelerated their velocity. Each of the capital class fusion projectors could rip apart a cruiser with a single hit. The super-capital projectors, if they hit, could shatter almost any vessel. All two hundred and fifty-six heavy fusion projectors and sixty-four super-capital fusion projectors aboard the Crusader fired at the same time.
The Crusader's two sister ships engaged with their own turrets. Each of the ship's captains had coordinated their fire and maneuvers, so that when the ships opened up, the total firepower was as evenly spread as possible.
What those fusion projectors did to the Chxor fleet was indescribable. In only seconds, where almost forty of the five-class dreadnoughts had been, nothing but crippled wrecks and expanding clouds of debris remained. Distress beacons, vented gas, and the discharge of overloaded power systems sparkled in a cloud that looked both terrible and beautiful.
Ensign Konetsky gave a grim smile, “Engagement complete, sir.”
***
Epilogue
Halcyon Colony, Garris Major System
Contested
November 20, 2403
“Captain,” a gruff voice said from behind Mason, “why don't you come inside and share a drink?”
Mason's head came around sharply as he recognized the voice. Admiral Collae stood in the doorway of a bar. More importantly, a half dozen armed men had weapons leveled in his direction from the windows. Mason's throat went suddenly dry. He had seen no sign of the ambush, had no warning. If Admiral Collae had wanted to gun him down in the street, he could have done so without compunction.
“I'm on my way to a meeting with Councilor Penwaithe,” Mason said, with a broad gesture down the street, “I wouldn't want to be late.”
“I assure you,” Admiral Collae said, his voice hard, “this will only take a moment... and that you will make your appointment on time and alive.” He added the last with a sharp bite and Mason's hands dropped to rest on his pistols. Admiral Collae cleared his throat and nodded at the aimed weapons.
“Of course, Admiral, how could I refuse such a gracious request?” Mason responded even has he raised his hands in the air.
Admiral Collae gave him a slight smirk and turned away into the building. Mason walked gingerly up the steps, careful not to make any sudden moves. At the top of the steps, one man held out his hand. Mason grimaced a bit as he slowly unbuckled his gun-belt and passed it over. The man gave him a nod and Mason followed the Admiral inside.
The building was clearly one of the elite social clubs on Halcyon, a number of men in fine suits sat at various tables and booths, while waiters in uniforms brought them drinks as they sat in quiet conversation. Either the sight of a bare-chested man in leather pants walking next to a Colonial Republic officer wasn't particularly unusual here or everyone had a lot more respect for privacy than most people.
Or else they're too terrified to even look, Mason thought. He shot a glance at Admiral Collae out of the corner of his eye. The rogue Colonial Republic Admiral showed no expression on his pitted, craggy face. His dark eyes stared forward as they walked, almost as if he were preparing himself to do something unpleasant.
Admiral Collae led the way into a private room at the back. A black man, tall and thin, sat the the room's table. He wore a finely tailored suit, one whose simplicity probably meant it cost more than a vehicle. Admiral Collae spoke, his harsh voice pitched low, almost respectfully, “Mister Penwaithe, this is him.”
Penwaithe? Mason thought. He looked again over at Admiral Collae, but his stone-like face showed no emotion.
“Ah, Captain King, good to meet you... though I must admit, your taste in clothing is atrocious,” the tall man stood and extended a hand. “I am Spencer Penwaithe.”
Mason gave him a broad smile and took his hand, just as the words fully penetrated. He felt his smile congeal on his face. It took him a moment to find words to speak, “Well, I'm not exactly advertising my presence. A costume like this makes it less likely that someone will look past it and see who I am.” There was no point in denial, not with Admiral Collae present. Spencer Penwaithe had a firm, crisp handshake.
“I must admit to quite a bit of fascination with your career for many years,” Spencer Penwaithe said. “I'm such a fan of the old pirates, yourself and Thomas Kaid especially. This little adventure happening here is the product of a lifelong dream... privateers striking blows against our enemies, striking fear into their hearts. The fact that you are here is just the icing on the cake, as it were.” His words were light, almost whimsical, but Mason didn't miss the darkness in the other man's eyes. He was a man who spoke words with no meaning, just to see the effect they would have on someone.
“Well,” Mason said, “I'm glad to oblige. Now, I'd love to stay, but I'm afraid I have a meeting to attend with your daughter-in-law.” Mason made the guess off hand. From the flash of anger in the other man's eyes, he'd guessed right. Which means not only is she a relation, he thought, but one he doesn't approve of...
“I'm afraid Jessica will have some unexpected business come up, by the time she attends to that, you should be there, ready to speak with her,” Spencer Penwaithe said. He gestured at the seat across from him. Mason took it with a slight smile. Admiral Collae took the third chair, next to Spencer Penwaithe. The fact that this other man, with no apparent political position, could affect the schedule of the Councilor without her knowledge was a bad sign. Mason wasn't certain what was going on. Admiral Collae was a major player, he had entire systems resources to call upon. His political network and ties made him far above the minor politics of this backwater colony. He should not be at the beck and call of this unknown man.
“Drink?” Spencer asked. A moment later, one of the waiters appeared at Mason's elbow. Mason took the small tumbler and took a sip. It was very good, very expensive, brandy. “Well, you've made quite an impression here at Halcyon, do you know?” Spencer Penwaithe said. “Captain Stavros Heraklion is almost a heroic figure, ironic, don't you think? On top of that, I understand Admiral Mannetti is quite taken with you. Quite marvelous that.”
“Oh?” Mason asked.
“Yes, much better than my original plan,” Spencer Penwaithe said. He looked over at Admiral Collae, “I must admit, I was a bit... disappointed when the Admiral failed to bring you in as a direct foil to Admiral Mannetti. But this works ever so much better. You've earned the loyalty of the government for your selfless actions at Wenceslaus. You've earned Admiral Mannetti's affection and trust in the doing... and you're under a false persona so no one even realizes your full capabilities.”
“That is interesting,” Mason said. He looked between the two men, “What exactly is the purpose of this interview?”
Spencer Penwaithe gave a broad smile, “Well, to get to know you, Tommy King. As I said, I was quite the fan. But, as with many people, there comes a time when they must try to surpass their heroes achievements. So, it is here. You work for me, Captain King. Do so and I can reward you very well. Fail to do so...” he looked over at Admiral Collae “... well, lets just say that I have some contingencies.”
“What's the purpose?” Mason demanded. “All this cloak and dagger efforts is wearing. You have me here presumably as a foil to Admiral Mannetti. Yet at the same time, it seems you have Admiral Collae's resources to call upon.” Mason shook his head, “You don't need me to deal with Mannetti, you could do it yourself.”
“I could, if that were my only goal,” Spencer Penwaithe said. “And this is a game with many rules. What contest would it be if our moves were all open and explained?” His smile was savage, “No, you'll get no answers... just rest assured that if you betray me, everyone you know and care about will die... from those monks in their monastery to your current companions.” He waited and Mason gave him a tight-lipped nod. The message was received. “Admiral Mannetti is not acting alone, Captain King. Just as Admiral Collae acts in my interests, she acts in the interests of her master.” His words oddly echoed Lucretta Mannetti's talk of Empire...with her as the consort. Something big is going on here, Mason thought, something far bigger than Halcyon.
Spencer Penwaithe's dark eyes peered at Mason, as if he could read his thoughts. Mason shot a glance at Admiral Collae and remembered the man's ties to Mistress Blanc, a psychic. He thought, resolutely, about the controls for the Kraken.
“Well, we've had an excellent discussion,” Spencer Penwaithe said. “We should really do this again sometime.” He waved a hand, “You should go, I'd hate for you to be late with that very important meeting with Councilor Penwaithe.”
Mason stood and gave the other man a nod. Admiral Collae stood, as well, to escort him out, Mason assumed. Mason had a lot to think about and he would have little free time to do it. The revelations from this other man had overturned a lot of his own assumptions. Mason wasn't really certain where that left him.
“Oh, and congratulations, Commodore,” Spencer said with another toothy smile. “I understand that the good Councilor will offer you the rank for your service at Wenceslaus. You'll have your own raider squadron. Isn't that quite convenient?”
Mason gave a slight, humorless smile in return. He turned away without another word, the silent presence of Admiral Collae at his back. As they walked back through the club, Mason felt like the ground had shifted underneath him. So many of his assumptions had been proven wrong... and worse, it seemed as if he'd been reduced in value to that of a pawn. The problem with the analogy was that Spencer Penwaithe seemed like the type of strategist who liked to sacrifice pawns.
“Captain, one last thing,” Admiral Collae said as they reached the doorway, his harsh voice low.
“Yes?” Mason asked.
“You killed my nephew,” Admiral Collae said. His craggy face showed just the slightest edge of anger. “I'm not about to forgive that. However, I will put it aside, knowing the stakes. You understand?” Mason nodded slowly. Admiral Collae wouldn't risk this plan, whatever it was, over the death of his nephew. Not yet, anyway. It meant that Mason wouldn't need to watch his back for a dagger over that, even if he did have to watch his back with the man's mysterious superior.
“Good,” Admiral Collae said. “Next time, however, take my offer, rather than bumbling in not knowing what's going on.” He gave Mason a final nod and turned away.
***
Garret Penwaithe looked up from his desk at a rap on his quarter's hatch. Outside the open door was Abigail. The young woman looked tired, Garret saw. “Come in,” Garret said.
She came in and stood, uncertainly. Garret waited a long moment, “Something wrong?” Garret asked.
Abigail bit her lip, “Sir...” She looked down at the deck. “I'm not sure I'm cut out for this.”
Garret felt his eyebrows go up in surprise. From what he'd heard from Heller, Abigail had performed very well in the last battle. Better, in fact, than some of their more experienced personnel. “What?”
“I thought I could do this, but I'm not sure anymore,” Abigail said. “I just don't know if what we're doing is right.” She looked up and met his eyes, “That pirate, Captain Heraklion, he killed those carriers, all those people.” She took a deep breath. “I had bodies... pieces of bodies on my visual screens. They didn't even have ship suits on, some of them.”
Garret shook his head and he stood. “Abigail... war is a nasty business. That said, yes, it was a bad fight. We killed a lot of people.” His Hammers had actually killed more fighters than Captain Stavros's crew. Then they had engaged the pair of destroyers that had attempted to break away from the station. How many people they'd killed was not something that Garret really wanted to think about himself. “I'm afraid that is part of war, of combat.”
“I knew that...” Abigail said, “But I didn't realize how it would feel.”
“You've had nightmares?” Garret asked. “Where you see the bodies? Worse, where the faces of your family and friends are on those cold, still bodies?” She nodded slowly. “Those ease, a bit, those nightmares. It's not... it never is easy. You don't want to become someone for whom killing is easy.” Garret sighed, “If you need someone to talk with, absolutely talk to me. I've been there.”
“Do the nightmares ever go away?” Abigail asked.
“No,” Garret said softly. “But you learn to live with them. And you find that there are some things worse than nightmares... like knowing your friends will face that without you... or that no one else will be there to stand between your family and friends if you won't.”
Abigail nodded slowly. She looked a little less uncertain. “Thank you sir.”
Garret nodded and she turned away. She stopped again at the doorway. “Sir, would you have some time available tonight, maybe? To talk a bit more?”
“Sure,” Garret said with a smile.
“Thanks,” Abigail said, “I'll see you tonight at eight!”
As she hurried out, Garret felt his stomach sink a bit as he realized just how those words could be interpreted. He shook his head though. Just two combat vets talking, Garret thought, nothing improper about it at all.
***
Danar System
(status unknown)
November 20, 2403
Fleet Commander Krxil didn't know how the battle had ended, though he strongly suspected, given his current state, that it had not ended favorably. His vessel was crippled, really no more than a gutted wreck. Both of its power plants were offline. He had neither power, nor environmental systems, and three quarters of his crew were either dead or dying. The ship's commander was included in that number.
He suspected that his ship had come off lucky, for all of that. Before the final hit that had knocked them out of the fight, Krxil had seen the ships in his force die one after the other as they received the full attention of the enemy's dreadful firepower. The terrible energy weapons had ripped the damaged dreadnoughts apart with terrible efficiency. No wonder they sent just the three ships to take the system, Krxil thought.
The humans, contrary to the Chxor philosophy, had proven their right to victory. Indeed, they had used High Commander Chxarals's assumptions of superiority against him. Krxil saw now why his former creche-mate had fallen to this enemy... and a part of him wondered why he had been spared.
At a tap on the airlock, he was reminded of why he had come down to the port side. Some of the crew had spotted lights, possibly from small craft sent to rescue them before their supplies ran out. He had gathered most of their survivors at this one airlock.
He looked up as the airlock opened. He stared down the muzzles of the human Marine's rifles and he raised his hands. “I am Fleet Commander Krxil, I offer my complete surrender,” he said.
***
Faraday System
United Colonies
November 20, 2403
Colonel William Proscia smiled slightly as he checked the report of the latest training equipment delivered to the Academy. While the Juggernaut power armor had yet to go into official production, it seemed that there were somewhere around a company's worth of the new power armor produced as the prototypes... and no one had asked any questions at all regarding giving those to the Faraday Military Academy for using in training their cadets.
It was an oversight that Colonel Proscia couldn't wait to rub into the faces of the Baron's enemies. He had personally interviewed a number of the Nova Roma personnel who had escaped with Emperor Romulus IV. One of the key points which had stood out to him was how the Chxor had overlooked the Nova Roma Military Academy during their initial occupation. To be fair, the Nova Roma Fleet had overlooked them as well in the chaotic events leading up to their full surrender. That had allowed the cadets, staff, and cadre, organized by Admiral Mund to utilize their small quantity of training equipment to not only link up with resistance elements, but to seize dozens of vessels and escape the system.
It was easy to see why both parties had overlooked the Academy. They were normally made up of retirees and young cadets, some of them under the legal age of service. While the cadets were officially sworn in, none of them were on the Fleet's books, they were essentially ghosts in the system until they graduated. Further, the mental connection was that they had surplus equipment and weapons, more for the purpose of training than anything else.
What they overlooked was that the academy cadre and cadets often performed in units for all levels of training from team level up to company and even battalion size. Their 'surplus' equipment was perfectly functional... and they trained with it more than many infantry units had the opportunity for, because they planned their classes around their training.
Colonel Proscia had been very interested in that originally. As the Faraday Military Academy Commandant, he had seen the potential immediately... and even more so when faced with the information about the conspirators within the Fleet. When Captain Daniel Beeson had come to him to ask about contingencies, Colonel Proscia had known exactly what to do.
He already had six 'surplus' Chxor assault shuttles, captured after the Second Battle of Faraday. His cadets each had their own set of body armor, weapon, and combat harness. They'd trained as teams, squads, platoons, and even companies... and they would continue to train as part of their course work to prepare them for duty in the United Colonies Fleet. Even better, he could coordinate training for boarding operations with United Colonies vessels and around government buildings... so they could literally rehearse exactly what they might be used for. It was almost scary, especially given how much the Baron trusted him, just how easily he could use the force not only to prevent a coup... but also to perform one if that was his plan. Good for both the Baron and the United Colonies that I've no such intention, Colonel Proscia thought.
He looked up as Senior Chief Winslow stepped into the office. “We're looking good, Colonel.”
William Proscia smiled a bit, “Excellent.” The Senior Chief had taken charge of prepping their shuttles, not just for training but also for the eventual assault. Now, they would be ready as soon as the Baron needed them. Some part of William actually hoped their preparations would be unnecessary.
The rest of him, however, was not only ready, but eager. The selfish bastards who wanted to tear down everything Baron Giovanni had worked towards were going to get what they deserved... and Colonel William Proscia was going to be the one to give it to them.
***
Halcyon, Garris Major System
Contested
November 22, 2403
Reese looked up from his console as he heard voices coming down the corridor. He didn't get many guests, these days. He smiled a bit as he stared at the complex string of code. At least the work was challenging and the rewards...
He smiled a bit as he remembered the bank account that Admiral Mannetti had opened for him at Port Klast. The rewards for this work was very satisfactory. And the codes and files he had brought with him had made a very satisfactory initial balance in that account. The knowledge that she would use that against Lucius Giovanni was just icing on the cake.
Admiral Mannetti led her guest into the room. Reese stood respectfully as she entered, not just because he did feel respect for what she'd accomplished, but also because her temper was such that he didn't want to seem disrespectful. She's a bit jumpy of late, best to stay on her good side, he thought.
She looked tired, but in a good mood, which boded well for this meeting. It was when she was in a bad mood that she tended to take it out on subordinates. That could go towards the fatal end of the spectrum if she was truly irritated.
“My Lady, delightful to see you, as always,” Only after a polite bow to her did he look at her guest. He nearly choked, “Lucius?”
Admiral Lucretta Mannetti gave a girlish giggle and her guest gave a polite chuckle. Reese recognized his error as he saw this man was much older than Lucius Giovanni, with a lined face and some gray in his hair.
“Not Lucius Giovanni, no,” Admiral Mannetti said, “This is, instead, my mentor, Lord Admiral Marius Octavius Giovanni... Lucius and Alanis's father.”
“My Lord,” Reese said and gave a low bow.
Marius cocked his head at him as Reese stood. “So I hear you're responsible for making me a grandfather.” His voice was cold, calculating.
Reese felt his face pale, “I am, my Lord. Alanis and I were married, but your son and I had a disagreement and she... chose his side.”
“Well,” Marius said with a cold smile, “Alanis probably takes after my mother. Loyalty to family can be hard, a lesson you should learn.” He was silent for a long moment. “Tell me about your progress here.”
Reese felt cold prickles run up his back. He knew, from the man's expression and words, that his very survival hinged upon impressing him. “My Lord, things have gone very well so far. After hacking Captain Heraklion's database at the Ottokar System, I was able to use some of the coding from there to apply to this project. As Lady Kail has, no doubt, informed you, I've made quite a bit of progress. I'm certain that, given time, I can crack the entire database here. I've already translated the star map that she requested.”
Marius Giovanni put a possessive hand on Admiral Mannetti's shoulder. “Yes, she has told me about your successes so far. In particular, all of your files from the United Colonies have been run past my informant and either verified or exceeded. I must say, I'm impressed. You've done a lot to earn your place here, Reese.” The shorter man gave Reese a nod, “And I've got to say, keep up the good work and I'll be proud to name you as my son-in-law.”
Reese stood up a bit straighter at the promise in his words. If anyone had the influence to convince Alanis to put aside her anger, surely it would be her father. And if there's anyone who has the power to force that to happen, Reese thought darkly, it would be Admiral Mannetti's mentor.
“Now,” Admiral Mannetti said, with a quick glance at Marius Giovanni, “Tell me, how long do you think to extract the command codes?”
That was a difficult question, Reese had to acknowledge. He had been at it for almost a full month on the ancient alien computer. “A month or more, I'm afraid, my Lady.” She nodded, but Reese didn't miss the narrowed eyes on Marius Giovanni. “I might, might, get it done a bit faster if I could get some help. Whoever did the programming on Captain Heraklion's ship...”
She took on a thoughtful expression, “I'll look into that. Keep up the good work.”
###
Danar System
United Colonies
November 27, 2403
Baron Lucius Giovanni stared out at the cold, uncaring stars and thought about the future. The victory at Danar had not been bloodless. The three Crusader-class ships had all received damage to one extent or another. Losses among the frigates, despite the enemy's focus on his capital ships, had been sharp as well. Seven of the the eighteen frigates had died, along with their crews. All told, somewhere around two thousand United Colonies personnel had died.
The larger enemy force, along with their High Commander, had fled to shadow space after Lucius's engagement of the other force. Presumably they'd withdrawn to Nova Roma, though they hadn't had time to scout the system, yet. Most of the moon bases had already surrendered, though two were holding out. They would probably launch an assault, which would cost more lives, but both base commanders had emphasized the numbers of human prisoners they held as hostages, so destroying them outright wasn't an option.
Lucius felt the pull of Nova Roma. They were so close, only four days journey through shadow space. He could actually make out it's star, Remus, since he knew where to look. Some part of him wanted to launch the attack immediately, to follow up on the victory.
Yet he knew they weren't ready. His play to secure Delvar had worked because of the distance from Delvar and it's moons and its lack of serious orbital and planet-side defenses. At Nova Roma, the Chxor would have extensive preparations. They would not fall for the same ploy again.
And on top of that, Admiral Dreyfus had taken even more casualties and damage at Tehran. Lucius's warning to the Admiral had proven accurate, for the Chxor had emplaced extensive minefields. To make matters worse, they had more forces there, for they had clearly expected to be attacked there, first.
Things were still confused, apparently even Admiral Dreyfus was injured from a hit on the flag bridge, though he had reported that he was recovering. From what Lucius had heard so far, the Admiral's lighter forces had been savaged. His capital ships, as well, were battered. Worst, in Lucius's opinion, was that the Admiral had used his fighters in close support... and they had suffered severe casualties. The losses of the fighter pilots was the hardest blow, to Lucius. The pilots would take years to train and replace. The ship losses were also painful, but that was a resource that they could at least begin to replace soon, especially after having captured the shipyards of Danar intact.
Lucius's reflection gazed back at him with the background of the stars and his mind went to the conspirators within the Fleet... the men and women who planned to betray him and their oaths to reinstate an Empire dead before Lucius's father was born. The time would come soon to move against them and they had deaths and debts to pay... and Lucius felt a cold satisfaction as he pondered just how much evidence his people had assembled on them. Soon there will be a reckoning with them, as well, he thought coldly. There was no room for traitors like that under his command... especially not when he had a future and not only his daughter but his soon to be nephew to think about. His smile grew wide as he remembered Alanis's last message... and her excitement both from her initial training at the Academy as well as the news of the sex of her child.
Lucius's comm unit began to chime and he answered it quickly.
“Baron,” Ensign Konetsky said, her voice tight, “We've just picked up a Chxor transmission on our ansible network, it's from their High Commander Chxarals again. He's using one of the older Nova Roma frequencies, probably from when they took the system.”
That made sense, though Lucius wasn't sure why the Chxor officer would be transmitting a message to them. “Put it through.”
“To the leaders of the United Colonies and their people,” the Chxor said. “I am High Commander Chxarals. I have been ordered by the Benevolence Council to take over the defense of the Chxor Empire from human aggression.” His words were calm and well spoken. His tan, bowl-cut hair and dark yellow eyes showed no emotion. “I must congratulate you in your hard-fought victories at Tehran and Danar. I am also authorized to offer you a peace treaty. Should you agree, we would cease all expansion into your claimed space.” He paused and cocked his head, as if to study the opponents who might be hearing his message. “On the other hand, should you continue your attacks, be warned. I have the full authority of the Benevolence Council behind me. I will not be defeated again. Should your forces arrive at Nova Roma I will preemptively order the planet gassed, it's orbital infrastructure destroyed, and ensure that every human in the system is killed. I have already given orders for demolition charges to be emplaced on off-world habitats and have positioned vessels to employ gas on Nova Umbria and Nova Roma itself. This is not a bluff and my personnel will not hesitate.”
He waited for a long moment, clearly to allow his viewers to think the implications through. “The Chxor Empire will not tolerate further attacks. Be aware, that even if you manage to take the Nova Roma system, you will capture only a lifeless ruin. There will not be a repeat of Danar. High Commander Chxarals out.”
###
The End
The Shadow Space Chronicles will return with The Prodigal Emperor: Book Three of the Shadow Space Chronicles
Diagrams
About the Author
Kal Spriggs is a science fiction and fantasy author. He currently has three series in print: The Renegades space opera and space exploration series, the Shadow Space Chronicles military science fiction and space opera series, and the Eoriel Saga epic fantasy series.
Kal is a US Army veteran who has been deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan. He lives in Colorado, and is married to his wonderful wife (who deserves mention for her patience with his writing) and also shares his home with his newborn son, three feline overlords, and a rather put-upon dog. He likes hiking, skiing, and enjoying the outdoors, when he's not hunched over a keyboard writing his next novel.