Haven Ascendant

by Robert M Kerns

  “What are your thoughts about this?” Cole asked, looking back to Greta.

  “I accepted this assignment fully expecting to die for the Coalition. Do what you will.”

  “Process her into the brig, for now,” Cole said. “I want to consider the matter for a day or two.”

  Red pulled Greta out of her seat and pushed her out of the briefing room.

  Cole sat staring at the vacant seat in silence for several moments before turning to Garrett, saying, “Well…she was a real piece of work, wasn’t she?”

  “I’ll be honest,” Garrett replied. “Her comment about the children sealed her fate in my eyes. If I had met her out somewhere, she’d already be dead. From the Provisional Parliament’s perspective, though, it makes a certain amount of morbid sense. If they didn’t kill the children, those children would probably grow up to become resistance fighters. But killing children doesn’t win them any friends, so it’s a failure in the long run anyway.”

  Cole shook his head and suppressed an urge to shudder. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.” With that, Cole pushed himself to his feet and led Garrett out of the briefing room.

  Chapter Nine

  Conference Room

  Babylon Station

  Gateway System

  2 August 3003, 09:30 GST

  Cole stepped through the hatch and scanned the conference room. It wasn’t a large space like the bridge briefing room aboard Haven. The conference table was at most fifteen feet long, and there was just enough space around the table to allow for easy walking and movement without making the room feel claustrophobic.

  Cole removed all but nine of the chairs around the conference table. As he was moving the final chair outside the conference room, stewards arrived with three cooled carafes of water. They placed the carafes at the quarter, half, and three-quarter points on the conference table, then placed glasses for each chair still remaining at the table, four on the emissaries’ side and five on Cole’s.

  Cole moved to one of the room’s corners and turned to look across the table at a diagonal. The setup looked good. Cole nodded.

  “Thank you for your time,” Cole said, addressing the stewards who stood by the open hatch. “Where should we put the extra chairs?”

  “There’s another conference room across the corridor that isn’t scheduled to be used today,” one of the stewards replied. “We can put the extra chairs there until you’ve finished your meeting.”

  “Excellent,” Cole replied.

  The stewards moved to do so, and Cole enjoyed their surprise when Cole moved two chairs himself. As they left the vacant conference room, Cole and the lead steward looked each other in the eyes and nodded in unison. She seemed to appreciate how Cole ‘led from the front.’

  Cole expressed his thanks to the stewards once again, shaking each of their hands, before returning to the conference room where he would await his friends and guests.

  Sasha and Garrett arrived first. Yeleth and Red arrived next. Cole sat in the center of the five seats, Sasha to his right and Yeleth to his left. Garrett sat to Sasha’s right. The final seat on Cole’s side was for Juliana Painter, who had come out to Gateway to meet the emissaries and now escorted them to the conference room. Red took up a standing position in the corner opposite the hatch and over Cole’s left shoulder.

  When the hatch irised open to admit the four remaining emissaries, led by Painter, Cole and his friends stood. Cole gestured to the unoccupied seats as Painter moved to hers. When Cole resumed his seat, everyone else sat as well. Cole hid his amusement at that.

  “Thank you for meeting with me, and help yourself to water as you like,” Cole said. “I am Bartholomew James Coleson. To my right is Sasha Thyrray, and beyond her is Garrett. To my left is Yeleth, and you already know Juliana Painter. Before we get into why you requested this meeting, I have an uncomfortable item that must be addressed. I’m sure you’ve noticed that one of your number is missing. The young lady from Epsilon Anubis is, in fact, a covert agent informing on your resistance organizations to the Provisional Parliament.”

  “You lie,” the gentleman from Spark said, his voice a growl as he moved to rise.

  Red took one step forward and growled. All four emissaries paled.

  Cole looked the gentleman from Spark right in his eyes, saying, “No one likes to be called a liar, sir, especially when they are not. If you are unable to maintain a civil tone and behavior, my friend will escort you out, and I make no promises that he’ll be gentle. Do you understand?”

  The gentleman from Spark jerked a nod.

  “I didn’t hear you, sir,” Cole said.

  The man’s eyes flicked to Red for less than a heartbeat before he said, “I understand.”

  Cole smiled. It did not touch his eyes. “Excellent. Let us proceed. The spy is currently enjoying the hospitality of Haven’s brig while I decide on a course of action. Now…what business brings you here?”

  The woman from Oriolis cleared her throat and asked, “How do you know we’re not spies, too?”

  “I won’t discuss my vetting process or intelligence network,” Cole replied. “Suffice it to say, I am confident each of you is who you claim to be.”

  The four emissaries looked to one another for a moment before the woman from Oriolis spoke again. “As you already seem to know, we represent the resistance organizations on our respective worlds. Our organizations have voted to appeal to you for assistance in liberating our systems, and we have further voted to appeal to join you.”

  Cole blinked. “Join me? Would you care to clarify that, please?”

  “Each of our systems were members of the Aurelian Commonwealth. Within that system, we enjoyed a number of benefits—system defense beyond what we’re able to provide ourselves, preferred trading status, and many others. Since the Provisional Parliament has signed on as one of the founding entities of the Coalition, our traditional freedoms and reasons for being members of the Commonwealth no longer exist.

  “Liberating our systems is a short-term goal. None of our systems possesses the manpower or infrastructure to defend ourselves from the might of the Coalition. In order for our systems to thrive and prosper long-term, we must replace what we had with the Commonwealth, and we believe a federation of star systems based around your ideals would be an excellent starting point.”

  It took all of Cole’s experience and willpower not to gape at the emissaries.

  “Let me make sure I understand what you’re saying,” Cole said. “Beyond obtaining my assistance in liberating your systems, you want Beta Magellan to join a…successor state to the Commonwealth?”

  “No,” the gentleman from Iota Anubis said. “We want Beta Magellan—and you—to lead it.”

  Cole leaned back against his seat. He wondered if he looked as gobsmacked as he felt. Silence reigned in the conference room as Cole processed what he’d just heard.

  “Why not Paol Thyrray?” Cole asked at last. “He has far more knowledge and experience at being a statesman.”

  The four emissaries glanced at Sasha. The woman from Oriolis spoke.

  “You are correct. The Thyrrays of Aurelius are excellent statesmen, and Paol represents his family well. Unfortunately, the time for Thyrray primacy is past. We have nothing against him providing counsel and wisdom, but our people believe it is time for a new voice, a new vision. And our people think that new voice should come from the man who would use his own ship to shelter life pods.”

  Cole chuckled. “Admiral Trask did that; well, he sheltered a freighter with his dreadnought. Why not get him to do this?”

  “You did it first,” the emissary from Spark countered, “and you’ve provided safe homes and employment for every refugee that has passed your vetting process.”

  The lady from Oriolis nodded, adding, “When you first arrived on the scene, people joined you because of Sasha and Talia Thyrray. You have since developed a reputation of your own, and now, people want to join you because of you.”

  “How
do you know I’m not some closet despot,” Cole asked, “just waiting to unleash my tyranny on the galaxy?”

  A soft half-smile curled one side of her mouth as the woman from Oriolis replied, “Your actions tell the galaxy what kind of man you are, Mr. Coleson, and those actions are not tyrannical or despotic.”

  Cole sighed. “I need time to think about this. My knee-jerk reaction is to say ‘no.’ I’m not even sure I have the ground forces to help you liberate your planets, and quite frankly, I don’t even want to think about where your other proposal would lead.”

  “We do not need military assistance to liberate our planets, Mr. Coleson,” the woman from Oriolis countered. “Our resistance organizations have that well in hand. What we lack is a means to liberate and hold the system.”

  Cole’s mind flitted to the rather impressive collection of ships that awaited processing in the Citadel Shipyard and nodded. “I might be able to help with that, true enough, but I need to consult with a few of my associates to see just what our naval force levels are.”

  “And you want to discuss our second item with a number of your associates,” the woman from Oriolis said, smiling.

  Cole chuckled. “Well, yeah. That’s a direction I’ve never contemplated, and right this moment, I’m not comfortable with it at all. I can promise you this much; I will give the matter reasoned, unbiased thought.”

  “That is all we can ask,” the lady from Oriolis replied. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Coleson, and we look forward to hearing from you.”

  The emissary from Oriolis stood, prompting her associates to stand with her. Cole stood, and his friends did likewise. The emissaries turned to leave, and the hatch opened to reveal the lead steward from the group who delivered the carafes of water. The steward offered to guide the emissaries back to their quarters, and Cole nodded his acceptance.

  As soon as the hatch irised closed, Cole returned to his seat, though ‘collapsed into it’ might have been a better description, and allowed his expression to mirror how shell-shocked he felt.

  “What am I supposed to feel about that?” Cole asked, speaking after a considerable silence.

  “I’d think you’d partly feel flattered,” Painter offered. “It’s not every day people come to you and say, ‘we want to form a new federation and want you to lead it.’”

  Cole shuddered. “I don’t even feel like I have a handle on running Beta Magellan. How am I supposed to run a federation of six systems?”

  “If you do this,” Garrett said after a chuckle, “and expect it will stay at just six systems…”

  “Yeah, I know. If we do this, I’d be a fool to think it would sit at just six systems. Oh…and you heard that, right? There’s no such thing as ‘if I do this.’ All the success I’ve had has been one-hundred-percent because of you and everyone else who has signed on with me. I’m not about to agree to that federation business unless all of you are with me.”

  “We’re already with you, Cole,” Sasha countered. “Where you lead, we’ll follow.”

  A chorus of “Here, here” rose from the table, with Garrett’s lone exception of “Damn right.”

  Cole sighed. “Let’s go back to Haven. Harlon and Emily are there, and we can use the briefing room systems to conference in Sev, Paol, and Sato from Beta Magellan.”

  As Cole and his associates returned to Haven, a small ship docked at Babylon Station. It was a courier-class vessel, sized to transport small-volume top-value cargo at high speeds. Its pilot and sole occupant exited the ship and passed through Babylon’s customs station without incident, but his identity triggered an alert notifying Station Security that one of the names provided by Cole had just passed through Customs.

  The name was one of the several aliases used by Qeecir’s lieutenant. Qeecir controlled most of the crime in the nearby unclaimed space, operating out of the Baldur system. He sent his lieutenant to investigate the possibility that Jax Theedlow wasn’t dead, and, if that were true, to discover the fate of the Howling Monkey and Qeecir’s three thousand kilograms of precious metals, then return with Jax to Baldur for a…discussion.

  Cole led his friends into the bridge briefing room. Just returning to Haven made Cole feel better, more relaxed, and he almost regretted calling the conference. Cole assumed his customary seat, and the others slid into seats down either side of the table.

  The overhead speakers chirped, broadcasting Jenkins’s voice from the bridge, “Cap, I have that conference call you wanted.”

  “Thank you, Jenkins. Send it to the briefing room, please,” Cole replied.

  The speakers gave a double chirp as three holographic forms appeared as if they sat in chairs further down the table. Cole smiled. No matter how much he thought he was used to Gyv’Rathi technology, it still amazed him at times.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Cole said, calling the meeting to order. “I just met with the emissaries from four systems across the border in old Commonwealth space. They asked us for two things. One, they want military assistance in liberating their systems from the forces of the Provisional Parliament. They specifically stated that their respective resistance groups could handle the inhabited worlds; they’re only asking for naval forces to establish space superiority. The second thing they asked is far more unsettling to me on a personal level. They want to form a new federation to serve as a successor state to the Commonwealth, and they want Beta Magellan—and me specifically—to lead it. I’m not expecting we’ll reach a decision on this right now.”

  “Well, I for one think it’s an excellent idea,” Paol Thyrray said, “and beyond that, I understand why they didn’t approach me about it. There needs to be something to fill the void of the Commonwealth, especially if we start helping systems liberate themselves. If we only help them long enough to gain their independence and sovereignty, there’s nothing keeping the Coalition from returning with more warships and troop transports.”

  Sato nodded, too. “Paol makes excellent points. I also think establishing a successor state is a worthy goal, and while I may be a bit biased, I cannot think of a better system or person to lead a fledgling state than Beta Magellan and you, Cole.”

  Heads physically present at the table began to nod, much to Cole’s chagrin.

  “I won’t lie,” Harlon said. “The whole idea of Beta Magellan being at the center of some new federation caught me totally off-guard, but the more I think about it, the more I like the idea. Yes, we could stand back and leave those systems to their plans for a successor state, but everyone here knows just how long that would last without a capable defense. We’re the best defense in Human space; of course, they want us to join them. The rumors of new offensives from the Coalition are becoming increasingly common, and I personally don’t think it will be too long before we hear of them moving against one of the nearby neutral systems, maybe even one we’ve befriended.”

  “All right,” Cole said. “Let’s make this official. Raise a hand if you think the federation idea is something worth pursuing.”

  Every person in the conference—including those attending from Beta Magellan—but Cole raised a hand, even Red from where he stood in the corner.

  “Well, damn,” Cole said and sighed. “I was hoping at least one of you would talk the rest out of it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Captain’s Day-Cabin, Haven

  2 August 3003, 21:37 GST

  Cole peeled back the covers on the bed and resisted the urge to grin. It had been a long day, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

  The overhead speakers chirped, broadcasting, “Bridge to Captain.”

  So close… Cole sighed and took the three steps to the comms panel, tapping the command to accept the call.

  “Cole here. What do you need?”

  “You have a call from Commander Vincent, sir.”

  Cole blinked and wracked his mind. Who was Commander Vincent, and why would he be calling? The only Commander Vincent that came to mind was Commander James Vincent, commanding the Charr system
picket, the next system anti-spinward toward the old Commonwealth.

  “Is that James Vincent out of Charr?” Cole asked.

  “Yes, sir,” the bridge officer of the deck replied.

  “Okay. Send the call to the day-cabin, please.”

  Within moments, a prompt appeared in Cole’s field of vision asking where Cole wanted to receive the incoming comms call. Cole selected the viewscreen on the bulkhead of the sitting room area and routed the audio through the day-cabin’s speakers. The viewscreen immediately activated and displayed an image of a man with salt-and-pepper hair and vibrant green eyes.

  “Apologies for calling so late, sir,” Commander Vincent said, “but I thought you’d want to know we have a situation.”

  Cole chuckled. “It’s been that kind of day. Lay it on me.”

  “A task force of thirty-five ships just arrived through the Sapphire jump gate, and they’re squawking Coalition transponders. They broadcast this message.”

  Vincent nodded to someone off-screen, and the viewscreen blinked to display a young man in a ship-suit in the Coalition’s colors.

  “Attention,” the young man said, “I am Captain Neville Irving. We have credible intelligence that you are harboring mutineers, led by Jennings Trask, and we demand you hand them over to us and return the Coalition property they stole. You have ten hours to respond.”

  The viewscreen blinked back to a view of Commander Vincent.

  Cole chuckled. “I didn’t know you were harboring mutineers in Charr, Commander. Where are you hiding them?”