ARMS Helm's End: (Book 7)

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ARMS Helm's End: (Book 7) Page 22

by Stephen Arseneault


  "You're a real piece of work, Rumford."

  "When we defeat the Burrell and the Frizoid, you'll think so."

  "And if we don't?"

  "Then I guess it really won't matter, will it?"

  The Maxter fleet moved to free space, where a jump was made to the outskirts of Midelon's prohibited area. Forty minutes would be required to reach the atmosphere using the hop-drives. Two minutes into the effort, wormholes opened in front of the jumping ships, sending them back to the edge of the prohibited space.

  Bax asked, "What just happened?"

  Harris chuckled. "You're getting sent home is what's happening. That's exactly what happened to us the first time we tried to go through."

  Bax scowled. "Again. Move us in."

  Two minutes passed before the Maxter fleet was again moved out of Midelon space.

  Harris shook his head. "Not happening. Not today or any other day."

  "We came in this way before."

  "And adjustments were made to prevent it from happening again."

  "Enable the interference signal and take us in again."

  Two minutes later, a frustrated Empress was stomping about her cabin. "I have to have Midelon! None of this works without it! Goober, how is it you were able to travel back and forth?"

  "Honestly? I guess it doesn't matter now. It was Farker. He was the key."

  "Your stupid pet?"

  "He came from there. He was the only reason we had access. Later on, our bots had it, and all the bots you had had it. But that has been disabled. You and me... we have no way in. We can't even make contact from our end. It has to originate there."

  A comm hail came in. Bax answered, "Open the gate, morons."

  Tawn's face was sporting a smile. "I don't think so. Access has been restricted and it will remain that way."

  "We need to build a fleet to defend against the Burrell and the Frizoid. They will both be coming."

  "So? Build your fleet. You don't need us."

  "I need those processors."

  Tawn grinned. "You need processors. Huh. Who would have imagined that? I tell you what, you build hulls and deliver them to your current location, we'll add the processors and hold those ships in case there's an invasion. That way we're all protected."

  "I need bots for my armies if we're to fight the aliens."

  Tawn gestured to the space surrounding herself. "And they'll be right here waiting for you if that was to occur. Build all the bots you want. We'll add the processors and keep them here where they won't be abused."

  Harris chuckled. "I'm seeing major problems with the grand vision."

  Bax returned an angry glare. "Shut your hole or I'll space you right here and now."

  Harris held up his hands as he leaned back in his chair.

  "What do you want, Freely. Name it. Your own planet? Unlimited credits and immunity from the laws?"

  Tawn scoffed. "I want you and Croft strapped into the seats of the Fargo as it flies into the Domicile sun. You arrange that and I'll open up Midelon."

  Tawn turned, gesturing with her hand. "Harris? I have a present for you."

  Farker stepped into view. "What? He's alive... or err... repaired?"

  Tawn nodded. "Gaerten rebuilt him. He was able to piece him back together. Made him a complete new chassis. Better than ever."

  Harris walked toward the comm camera with a grin. "There's my boy!"

  Bax stopped his progress with a snarl, pushing him back toward the seat. "Chair. Now. Shut it."

  The Empress of Maxter turned back to the camera with an evil smile. "Let us in or your partner here gets spaced."

  Tawn chuckled. "I've threatened to do that to him a hundred times. Go ahead, have at it. As a Maxter, he no longer really matters to me. Well, he does, but there won't be any negotiations over his life. You know how us Bios are taught to not negotiate under those terms, right?"

  "Then I have the families of the Bolemans or Miss Withrow. They're my subjects. I suppose you don't care about them either?"

  "I do. But not to where I'll give you control of this complex. You see, I have a solid hand and I know what cards you're holding. This pot is mine, so you’d best just bow out and go home. And know this, we will be coming for you."

  "Coming for me? With what? The Bangor? While a capable ship, hardly a match for a hundred Banshees. Even I know that won't be happening."

  "Does the thought of that threat bother you?"

  "Does the thought of the Human race being left vulnerable to the Frizoid or the Burrell bother you? This thought game can be played two ways."

  "We very much want to protect humanity from attack, we just don't want you to be in charge of that effort."

  "So you're willing to risk annihilation for that principle?"

  "So you're willing to risk annihilation for yours? See how this is going? Nowhere."

  Bax huffed as she gave her next order. "Take us back to Domicile. Freely, we'll be back."

  "We'll be here."

  The comm closed as the Fargo jumped away. A short run later had the capital ship of the Maxter fleet, the imperial transport, parked a kilometer above the Hosh-Morgan headquarters. An image of Bannis Morgan came up on the Fargo's nav display.

  "Morgan, I need you to build me something that will allow us to go to Midelon."

  Bannis shook his head. "Can't do. The access is all controlled from that end. If they don't want you in, you're not getting in."

  "I got in before."

  "And they figured out how and blocked it. I seriously have no knowledge of how those systems work. That was all managed by the AI."

  Bax turned to her bot pilot. "Do you know of any other way to get to Midelon? Do you have an understanding of the equipment there?"

  "There is no known alternative access. The hop-drive would have allowed travel, but that possibility has been removed. And yes, I have an understanding of the systems used to protect Midelon space. And I have no way to access or control those systems from here."

  Bax stopped. "Wait... isn't there another planet with the boson field equipment? If I got you there, could you possibly connect to Midelon's systems?"

  "No. There are no communications between the two facilities. The second location is merely a relay station. The boson generators and other equipment is only available on Midelon."

  Bax banged her fist on a wall. "We have to gain access!"

  The pilot bot turned. "Empress, the negation field has fully collapsed. It has been down for almost an hour."

  "Finally. Open a comm to the Retreat."

  Croft answered. "I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive."

  "We have problems."

  "The colonies?"

  "No. The colonies all fell in line. It's Midelon. We don't have access and we need it. We haven't been able to get the processing station up and running. Without it, we're limited to the AIs we already have."

  "Isn't that something like seventy thousand?"

  "And that won't be enough should the Burrell or the Frizoid bring a larger fleet. We need bots and we need millions of them if we want a shot at expanding this empire during our lifetimes."

  "Then perhaps we scale back our plans. This place here, the Retreat, its well built and functional, but not a place befitting an Emperor and Empress."

  "What? What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying we have our empire. Let's make the best of it. No reason we can't partake of a few luxuries while we build our defenses."

  "Luxuries?" Bax returned a confused look. "Where did that come from?"

  "It comes from having a different view from the top. I already have Governor Massey working on—"

  "Wait... Governor Massey? Governor of what?"

  "Of Domicile. I just appointed him moments ago."

  "We already have a governor."

  "He's your uncle. I thought you would be pleased."

  "We need competent people in these positions. My uncle is a nice looking man, and that was helpful on the campaign
trail, but he's an idiot otherwise. No way we're making him governor."

  "Too late. The announcement was made only minutes ago."

  "You can't be making these decisions without me, Max. We're both rulers here."

  "Did you not make the decision to keep Armstrong as governor on your own? And this raid on Midelon, was I consulted? The punishment on Bella III? Should I go on?"

  "That was different. Decisions had to be made and you weren't readily available."

  "I see. Is this the Maxter Empire or the Baxter Empire?"

  "Maxter. But—"

  Croft held up a hand. "I've been patiently waiting here in isolation for you to bring my vision together. It's time I stepped up and took some of the responsibility and some of the control. Now, if you don't have any other pressing issues, I would suggest you get back to work on getting us Midelon. In the meantime, I'll be working on building our empire. Leave the day-to-day operations to me. You focus on the big items."

  The comm closed. Bax sat in her chair.

  Harris chuckled. "Trouble in paradise? Croft getting a mind of his own?"

  "Shut it. I'm trying to think."

  Bax stood and began to pace. "Bot, do you have a listing of orders that have been issued by the emperor in the last hour?"

  "Retrieving... Armstrong is being replaced by Massey. Ten tons of gold is to be shipped to the Retreat, along with skilled craftsmen. Domicile's top jewelers are being flown out for consultations, as well as furniture makers. Interviews are being set up for an all-female staff."

  Bax stopped. "What?"

  "It says pre-screening interviews for the emperor's personal staff are to be arranged. He's placed generous salaries and benefits in exchange for five-year contracts. Prospective members should have college level scores from their high school educations and be between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two years old."

  Harris chuckled. "Sounds more like a harem than a staff. Let me guess, he listed physical attributes they should have as a contingency for employment?"

  The bot replied, "Petite, no taller than one hundred sixty-five centimeters."

  Harris again chuckled. "Sounds like he likes short girls. Bax? Where's that leave you?"

  A death stare was returned. "Bot! Enough!"

  A comm was opened to the Retreat. "An all-female staff?"

  "Yes. You inspired me to make that selection. Women can be loyal, hard-working, and grateful."

  "And I see your list here is asking for only petite and attractive candidates. Care to explain?"

  "These will be my representatives, often the face of our empire. Why wouldn't I want to put our best face forward? Are they not just as capable as others? Should I not have given you the time of day due to your attractiveness? And when standing next to their towering Empress, they will look like mere children."

  "They will be children." Bax returned a scowl that was mixed with loathing and hatred as she closed the comm. "What a complete ass."

  "You didn't argue against his points."

  "Because they were nonsense. His justifications were weak and ludicrous."

  Harris crossed his arms. "I guess as co-ruler there's not much you can do."

  "Oh, there's plenty I can do. Just not sure I'm ready to do it."

  Harris propped his feet up on a bench. "Turns out your Croft isn't much different than Mervin. I guess it's true that without principle, power corrupts. You gonna take him out?"

  Bax moved back to her chair. "I'll give him some rope over the next week or two. He can either use it to secure himself or to hang himself. That choice will be his. I'll give him his bit of spoil so long as it doesn't interfere with our plans. Now, back to Midelon. How do we get in?"

  — Chapter 25 —

  * * *

  Several days passed with no new plan to get to Midelon. Croft's demands continued to grow, as did Baxter Rumford's anger.

  Harris said, "Some of those girls on his staff list hardly qualify as college material. I'd say his standards have been loosened a bit. Hope you aren't going to allow this."

  "I was going to allow him his vice, at least for a while, but he's taking resources from our ship production. Morgan says the next release of Banshees may have to be delayed. He's ordered some of the precious metals used in their manufacture to be diverted to the dome he's turning into a palace."

  "Ouch. Now that's just a full slap in the face."

  "And it ends today."

  Harris sat forward. "You have a plan?"

  "I will in a minute."

  A comm was opened to the Biomarines. Colonel Thomas accepted. "Empress, how can I help you."

  "Do you have any interest in reclaiming the Retreat?"

  "You know we do. Can I assume there are stipulations attached to a coming offer?"

  "There are. You'll be taking it by force. As a reward, you'll be allowed to stay."

  "All of us?"

  "All of you. The Retreat will be declared a defensive outpost and you will all be given your prior ranks back. There are no wars, so you won't be called into duty, but you will be in reserve should the Burrell or Frizoid show."

  "Fully acceptable. Are there any other requirements?"

  "You do realize this is not a release from the empire, right? You'll just be allowed to return to your home, still as my subjects."

  "This assault, can I assume we will be placing Max Croft under arrest?"

  "You will be. And he'll be returned here for confinement."

  "Sounds like a win for us all. When do we leave?"

  "I'd like to see a plan from you, Colonel. I want to know how you'll get in there and what you'll require once you're there. I will be providing for your needs. Oh, and Colonel, this is an operation to be done with the utmost of secrecy and discretion. Should word leak out and make it to Croft, your mission would become extremely dangerous for us all. He would take every precaution."

  "Can I ask what brought this on?"

  "He's attempting to turn one of your domes into his opulent palace, and he's planning to staff it with his own private harem. I'd let him have his play, but he's drawing resources from our ship production. That I can't have."

  "Are there ships traveling there?"

  "Freighters that will be packing the items he's ordering. I can get your people aboard one if needed."

  "His defenses?" the colonel asked.

  "Your rail cannons and a hundred armed bots."

  "Shouldn't be a problem, Empress. I'll have a detailed assault plan ready within the hour."

  "Oh, and, Colonel, I want him alive. Uninjured if possible."

  The colonel nodded and the comm closed.

  Harris said, "You really gonna lock him up?"

  "Don't have a choice. At least until I can figure out what to do with him."

  "This is a big turn of events. And revealing. I think I have a good idea of what makes you tick. You think you can do everything better than everyone else. Croft? Starting to think he's just greedy."

  "That wasn't his earlier vision. It was aligned with mine, that you people are idiots and I can do better. Which I can."

  "Maybe. But I see that as being a lonely position to occupy. Take a strong personality like yourself, and you need a good counterbalance. Croft was that for you and you for him. I wouldn't have accomplished much of anything without Tawn's help. She's like the half a brain I'm missing at times."

  "You volunteering to be my sounding board?"

  Harris chuckled. "You want me for that? I think you'll need a cooler head if you want to be successful. I have a tendency to want to roar in with guns blazing."

  "You're right. I think I know who that counterweight might be. Fritz has always held an even tone."

  Harris thought for a moment. "Fritz is an excellent worker when told what you want accomplished. He’s never been much of an advisor. How about someone like Armstrong?"

  "The man we just took out of power as governor?"

  "Sure. And since Croft fired him, he's now available. Which brings up y
our uncle. What are your plans for him?"

  "Early retirement. I'll give him a decent house and a stipend to just stay out of the public eye. Armstrong, huh?"

  "He knows how to govern. Might just be perfect for taking over that aspect of the empire while you conduct the bigger issue of defense."

  "Then why not just put him back as governor?"

  Harris shook his head. "Because you have a mass of colonies to oversee, not just Domicile. Promote the former vice president to governor and put Armstrong in charge of the day-to-day of the empire."

  Bax stared for several seconds. "I feel as though you're planning something with this move."

  Harris smiled. "I guess you can't know that for sure, but I think you give me way too much credit."

  "What's your motivation for helping me here?"

  "A secure humanity? That's all I've wanted from the start. It's what I was born and trained for my whole life for. Same with all the Bios. What's your real motivation?"

  "As you said before, I can do it better. I'd like to see Humans ruling this galaxy."

  "And you ruling Humans?"

  "That works too."

  The nav display on the Fargo lit up with an alert. "Empress, we have a ship approaching."

  "Send out two banshees to identify."

  Most of a minute passed.

  "It is the Hailstorm."

  Bax scowled. "Order every ship we have here to intercept. And open a comm."

  An image of a grinning Tawn Freely appeared. "Time for you to be eliminated, Bax. Your rule is over."

  "You don't stand a chance, Freely. Seventy-eight Banshees to your one freighter."

  Tawn turned toward Gandy, who was seated in the copilot's chair. "Cut 'em loose."

  A hundred missiles separated from the freighter, racing toward the oncoming Banshees.

  Bax huffed. "Gamma does nothing to the bots, moron."

  Tawn smiled. "Who said anything about gamma?"

  The entire fleet of missiles fired at the same instant the Banshees unleashed a torrent of tungsten pellets. Intense laser cannons had been packaged length-wise into the missiles’ warheads to give a single, powerful burst of energy. Sixty-four of the seventy-eight Banshees had twenty-five centimeter holes burned clean through them. The hollowed ships now drifted without power.

 

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