Now an older, wiser and—I had to admit—much more jaded King knew that the more things changed, the more they stayed exactly the same. I supposed the best goal was to provide enough stability so that those stolen moments between one outright disaster to the next could be seized in the moment.
Although maybe I’d look back and think that was wrong too at some point. The only thing I knew for sure anymore, was that while there was life, there was still hope—and boy, did I hope for the best.
They say hope springs eternal but sometimes, I felt like I was hanging onto the ability to hope by my fingers; right now, though, I was hoping for something to break my way.
The door swished open.
“Hello, Admiral,” rumbled the large silvering Sundered that walked into the conference room and took a seat, his companion male lumbering in beside him.
No, not Sundered, ‘Stalwart’, I reminded myself.
“Greetings Elder Storm, I am glad we could finally meet,” I said gravely.
“Took long enough,” muttered the younger uplift male beside the Elder.
“Po’ta,” rumbled Storm.
“Sorry,” muttered the younger male.
The Elder turned back to me.
“We are impatient,” he said.
“I can see that,” I said lifting my brows.
“No, you don’t understand. We are not impatient at being kept waiting, or not simply for that, we are impatient because a Seer told us that you are the only one who can help us,” said the Elder.
“So I’ve heard,” I said.
“We need help to drive back the—Empire,” Po’ta the younger male said cynically, “fortunately, you seem to have a very large fleet.”
“Po’ta!” exclaimed Storm.
I leaned forward intently.
“The Empire, you say. That’s a big ask,” I said even though I already knew what they were going to ask about and was prepared to agree to it.
“We represent a group. The Alliance Gorgonus is no mere push over—” Po’ta started.
“—and we desperately need your help, Admiral,” said Elder Storm.
“I understand, and yes I do have a fleet so I suppose I can see how I could be of use to you,” I said, looking at the elder male assessingly, “but just what can the Stalwart or the Alliance Gorgonus provide me that would make it worthwhile to me?”
“Another greedy mercenary!” Po’ta spat.
“Greedy? A mercenary? You come here asking me for my help and talk to me of greed when the lives of my people will almost certainly be lost in a war that is not my own and you call me a mercenary?” I asked, brows lifting.
Po’ta’s fist clenched.
“My apologies. Our war is not your own. However, we are hard-pressed and we do need your help. Please don’t let my words poison you against our people, Admiral. Even if we’ve been waiting for this meeting for months now,” Po’ta finished with a growl.
Elder Storm, who had been watching the back and forth impassively, now leaned forward.
“As for what we can give you,” he said ticking off points on his fingers, “how about an alliance of races oppressed by the Empire, proof of the Empire’s campaign of genocide against the alien races which we’ve already provided and you must have verified, or we wouldn’t be here,” he gestured with a finger, “proof the aliens still exist and,” he added, lifting one final finger, “access to new technologies you have probably never even heard of. We brought an entire encrypted database with us to sweeten the pot. If we can come to an arrangement, I’ll provide you with the encryption keys needed to open it.”
I leaned forward.
“Tell me more,” I said.
Even though I was playing the skeptic, I hadn’t come here expecting to walk away. I was here to close the deal. I had plans and the Stalwart were just the first part of it.
When I was done, the Empire was going to have the biggest black eye anyone had ever given them.
It was going to take a lot of work to turn this giant space station and former illegal pirate port into a proper battle station, but now I had a focus, it was as if a weight was leaving me. The Empire needed to be taught a lesson and this station badly needed an upgrade. Fortunately, I’d received a number of defense stations during the last Bug Campaign.
Between those stations and the Caprian Shipyard, I had no doubt I could turn this former black port into something the Empire would never see coming, not in a million years.
Whether the people of this station liked those changes or not was of little concern to me. I didn’t prosecute the smugglers, mercenaries and rogues that still operated out of here even now, and in return, I expected some modicum of support and loyalty. Whether or not they chose to give those freely I didn’t really care.
If they wanted my pardon for former crimes, they would work for them.
I could already see it. The problems here in the Spine would stay here in the Spineward Sectors but I would be able to leave them behind.
In a way, it was just like back when I’d first assumed command of the Lucky Clover. If I went through with this, we would be isolated, cut off from all communication with the outside world and dependent on jump drive and the Elder Spindles for any information.
It was going to take a lot of work to turn this pirate port into a first-class battle station, and the calculations after that to long-jump the station using our ancient alien jump engines to place us smack gob into the middle of the Gorgon Front was going to be something else.
In a way, I discovered I was actually looking forward to it.
Gorgon Front, here I come, I thought with a frisson of excitement. The Empire just messed with the wrong Montagne.
Admiral's Throne Page 50