The Barbarian Bride (The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire Book 3)

by Christopher Nuttall

  He paused, dramatically. “Right now, we have the battle squadrons we brought with us and several hundred smaller ships,” he concluded. “Give us a couple of years and we will have a far superior fighting force.”

  “Except the Federation can still out-produce you,” Admiral Garibaldi said, carefully. “It may take them a full year, perhaps longer, to build a superdreadnaught, but they can lay down five or six times as many ships as you can.”

  “It depends,” General Stuart admitted. “Our industrial base is weaker, but our manpower is far superior and we are willing to use considerably more automation in the construction yards. And one of our superdreadnaughts is worth two or three of yours... sorry, of theirs.”

  “General,” Li said.

  General Stuart had the grace to look abashed. “We are working on expanding our industrial base too,” he said. “Our projections show many different results, of course, but we believe that if the war lasts another five years, we should gain a decisive advantage. However, the Federation may solve some of its own problems in the same time. If they manage to improve their educational base by a mere twenty percent, they — not us — will gain a decisive advantage. We can’t risk giving them time to steady themselves and start work on improving their own systems.”

  “Which would give the Emperor more time to consolidate his power and plot a counteroffensive,” Admiral Garibaldi said. “Marius Drake is not an idiot, General. He understands his military weaknesses very well.”

  He nodded to the display. “Are you willing to commit your forces to this operational plan?”

  “I see no alternative,” General Stuart said. “Leaving him in control of the Core Worlds will, at the very least, prolong the war.”

  “Agreed,” Li said. She shuddered at the thought. The wars — the Justinian War, the Outsider War — had killed millions, perhaps billions, of humans. Merely trying to force their way into Boston had cost the Outsiders over a hundred thousand lives... and at least fifty thousand on the other side. “We have to end this war as soon as possible.”

  “We’ll test your datalinks against ours,” Admiral Garibaldi said. He looked at General Stuart. “Will you serve as second-in-command of the fleet?”

  “If you’ll have me,” General Stuart said. His lips quirked in wry amusement. “I lost the last two battles I fought.”

  “You fought well,” Admiral Garibaldi said. “And your trick with the ECM was very well timed.”

  “Yeah,” General Stuart said. “It drove the Emperor mad.”

  “We’ll move to the ops room and discuss our options,” Admiral Garibaldi said. “Professor Kratman and the Senator can discuss the post-war universe. Assuming, of course, that we win the war. We could still lose.”

  He opened the hatch and led General Stuart out of the compartment, followed by the female marine. Li watched him go, feeling an odd flicker of respect. Admiral Garibaldi hadn’t needed to invite General Stuart to serve as his second, even though Stuart commanded a sizable fleet in his own right. It was a diplomatic gesture that, she hoped, would go some distance towards integrating the two fleets.

  And we’re going to need it, she thought. She’d seen the projections too, noting just how many people were going to die even if the war stayed relatively clean. If the Emperor started bombarding planets at random, and he’d already tried to cross the line once, billions of innocent civilians would be added to the death toll. This war isn’t for the future, not any longer. It’s for survival.

  “Senator,” Professor Kratman said. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a set of proposals for our discussions.”

  Li nodded and dragged her attention back to the here and now. “I look forward to them,” she said. “And I have some proposals of my own.”

  Chapter Ten

  No one really expected Lady Tiffany, born Tiffany Eleanor Diana Katherine d’Artagnan, to be a serious player on the galactic stage. It was why she was practically given away to Marius Drake, forming a blood tie between him and the Grand Senate. In hindsight, of course, that was a terrible mistake.

  —The Woman in Black, 4199

  Earth, 4101

  It hadn’t been a comfortable night.

  Lady Tiffany was loath to admit it, but she missed her husband. Marius Drake might be older than her — much older — yet he’d treated her as a person from the very start, rather than an unwanted wife or a nicely-shaped piece of meat. Tiffany hadn’t been able to keep herself from responding to his courtesy; she’d hated the very thought of being forced into a marriage with a much older man, but she had to admit that it had worked out. Marius Drake, she thought, was truly deserving of her loyalty.

  And he’d trusted her. It felt wrong to be apart from him for nearly seven months, but she knew just how much power he’d placed into her hands when he’d appointed her as his second on Earth. He trusted her enough to take the risk of betrayal that she would turn on him, appoint her own people to powerful positions throughout the Federation and, eventually, declare herself Empress in his stead. But the thought had never crossed her mind. She was loyal to the man who’d made her more than an isolated member of a very minor family, so isolated that she could be given away at the whims of her seniors. And besides, she knew, Marius Drake commanded the loyalty of his cabinet, something she doubted she would ever have.

  She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, unsure just what had woken her. Seven months of solitude would have seemed a dream come true, once upon a time, but now it felt odd. She was the ruler of Earth, to all intents and purposes; she could surround herself with people, if she wanted, yet they wouldn’t include the person she needed. Besides, she spent half of her working day answering petitions and listening to complaints from hundreds of people, all of whom insisted that their petty little problem was so urgent that it had to be dealt with immediately. Solitude at night seemed a welcome blessing.

  The intercom buzzed, again. “My Lady, Thunderbird just passed through the Gateway,” Johan Carmichael said. She’d taken pains to get to know her husband’s staff, not just the men and women who tended the President’s House. “The Emperor is on his way home.”

  Tiffany felt her heart leap, despite the foreboding she felt deep inside. A courier boat had arrived only a week ago, bearing grim tidings. The Battle of Nova Athena had been won, then lost, thanks to the treachery of Admiral Garibaldi. Tiffany had met the young man — he was only a few years her senior — during the final campaign against Admiral Justinian; she hadn’t considered him a potential traitor. But then, no one had considered Admiral Justinian a potential traitor, either. No wonder he’d gotten away with it for so long.

  “Thank you,” she said. “When will he arrive?”

  “Thunderbird’s ETA in orbit is thirty-seven minutes,” Carmichael said, nervously. He had never seemed to be in awe of her birth, she’d noted with some amusement, but he definitely was in awe of her husband. “Assuming he boards a shuttle at once, My Lady, he’ll be on the ground twenty minutes afterwards.”

  Tiffany grinned, feeling almost as giddy as a schoolgirl. “I’ll be at the shuttlepad to meet him,” she said, as she pulled back the covers and sat up in bed. “Please inform me when he is ten minutes from landing.”

  “Of course, My Lady,” Carmichael said.

  “And thank you,” Tiffany added.

  She smiled as she swung her bare legs over the edge of the bed and stood. Too many of her fellow aristocrats, male or female, cared nothing for the men and women who served them. Tiffany had seen servants insulted, molested, or even beaten bloody by their masters, none of whom had really considered the servants to be human. Tiffany’s father, however, had told her to remember that the servants thought, and they could nurse resentments as well as any Grand Senator... and that they had a great deal more than merely losing a coveted trade deal to resent. She’d done her best to treat the servants kindly, even before she’d married Marius Drake...

  ... And, unlike so many others, she hadn’t been betrayed by her own se
rvants when the Grand Senate finally fell.

  The thought chilled her to the bone as she stepped into the bathroom and removed her robe, studying her reflection in the mirror. Long red hair splashed down around a heart-shaped face, just a little too imperfect to attract a young buck from the aristocracy. Not that any of them would have married her, she thought, even if they’d wanted her. Her family lacked the wealth and connections to be of interest, certainly not to the old folks who determined who married whom. She’d resigned herself to being a spinster long before the old bastards had turned out to have a use for her, after all. Had Marius Drake ever known he’d been attached to a family of little real value?

  Not that it matters any longer, she reminded herself. The world has changed beyond repair.

  She pushed the thought aside as she hurriedly washed and dried herself, then stepped back into the bedroom and hunted for a dress. Normally, she would wear a suit and tie her hair back to appear professional, but she wanted to look good for her husband. It took her several minutes to locate everything she needed and get dressed before sitting in front of the mirror starting to apply make-up to her face. The green dress, she felt, set her hair off, while hinting at her curves rather than revealing them for all to see. Thankfully, no one expected her to set fashions right across the Federation. That, at least, was something she’d been spared.

  Smiling, she hurried out of the door and into the antechamber. Her bodyguards, two men who had worked for her father before being assigned to Tiffany herself, rose to their feet and followed her as she walked into the corridor. Their presence was more of a formality than anything else — the Presidential House was heavily defended by armored marines — but Marius had insisted, telling Tiffany that it would provide an extra layer of security for her. She couldn’t help being touched by his concern for her safety as she walked up the stairs, men and women in uniform saluting her as she passed. No one else, save for her father, had given much of a damn about her.

  She stepped out onto the shuttlepad and frowned, in sudden discontent, as she saw General Standerton Thorne standing at the edge of the pad. What was he doing, waiting for her husband? She didn’t like General Thorne, if only because he gave her the creeps far worse than some of the aristocratic bucks she’d been supposed to mingle with at parties. They’d spent far too long drooling openly over her breasts, but Thorne gave her a very different impression. There was something in the way he looked at her, at everyone, that told her he wouldn’t give a damn if she lived or died — and, that if she got in his way, he’d kill her without a second thought. She knew such people were necessary, sometimes, but Thorne still scared her. And she had no idea why Thorne had been entrusted with Earth’s security.

  A cold wind blew across the shuttlepad as the shuttle came into view, dropping rapidly towards the Presidential House. Tiffany was no expert, but it looked very much as though the pilot was expecting to run into trouble, as if there was something lurking just outside the security cordon with a HVM launcher. Her heart almost stopped at the thought, just as the shuttle came to a halt and hovered over the pad. Moments later, it lowered itself to the ground, a sudden flush of hot air causing Tiffany to take a step backwards. She caught herself and took a step forward as the hatch cracked open, revealing...

  For a long moment, she didn’t recognize her husband. War — and the stress of being Emperor — had taken a toll on Marius Drake, but now he had changed so much that it took her several seconds to be sure she was looking at him. He looked to have aged decades in a mere handful of months! His hair had turned white, his skin was lined and he looked as though he was on the verge of collapse, held up only by sheer willpower. She took a step forward, wanting to take him in her arms, but he held up a hand, stopping her.

  “General,” he said. Even his voice had changed! She fretted, just for a second, that he’d actually been replaced before reminding herself that a clone would never have made it through the security monitors. “Have the cabinet meet me in the conference room in ten minutes.”

  “Yes, sir,” General Thorne said.

  “Commander Lewis has a chip for the processor,” Marius continued. “Escort her down to the conference room and wait with her.”

  Tiffany felt her eyes narrow as Commander Lewis emerged from the hatch, looking downright nervous. A flicker of suspicion crossed her mind, which vanished as she read the signs of fear — if not outright terror — on the officer’s face. Tiffany prided herself on being a good reader of faces and there was something deeply, deeply wrong with the young woman. She was scared of something more than being caught having an affair, Tiffany was sure. It might be worth inviting the young officer for a chat, once things had settled down a little. But now, all she could do was watch as Commander Lewis followed General Thorne down the corridor and out of sight.

  “Tiffany,” Marius rasped. “You’re looking well.”

  “Thank you,” Tiffany managed. This wasn’t how she’d envisaged his homecoming. She’d planned a private dinner, then a night together, before they settled down to business. She didn’t want to ask what had happened, but she needed to know. “I...”

  “I’ll discuss the keeping of Earth after this conference,” Marius said, cutting her off. “We have a great deal to discuss.”

  “Of course,” Tiffany said, deeply hurt. Had he no time, even, to tell her he loved her? What had happened at Nova Athena to steal her husband and put this stranger in his place? “I will, of course, attend the conference.”

  For a second, she thought Marius would object and started gathering arguments to convince him otherwise, but he merely nodded and swept off down the corridor. Tiffany trailed in his wake, fighting back the urge to cry. Once, he’d trusted her; he’d listened to her opinion and allowed her to change his mind. But now... what had happened to change her husband so much?

  * * *

  There was no time, as much as Marius would have liked it, for a pleasant homecoming with his wife. He’d downloaded the latest updates from Earth as soon as his fleet transited the Gateway and it was obvious, blindingly so, that rumors were already out and spreading across the Core Worlds. There was nothing he could do, he suspected, to keep the rumors under control. All he could do was make damn sure he showed no sign of actual weakness.

  “Admiral Garibaldi betrayed us,” he said simply, as soon as the doors to the conference room were closed. His cabinet had assembled, save for Professor Kratman — another betrayal, although nowhere near as painful — and Commodore Arunika. The former Head of Intelligence’s Brotherhood ties would not be enough to save her from being taken into custody and interrogated. “He has almost certainly joined the Outsiders.”

  He gave them no time to recover. “Worse, the Brotherhood was clearly involved,” he added, curtly. In hindsight, the chain of events was all too clear. “I have no idea what passed between Admiral Garibaldi and Professor Kratman, but the Professor vanished shortly after the fleet departed from Boston and, somehow, managed to evade one of Garibaldi’s hand-picked officers.

  “We must face up to the fact that the war situation has taken a decided turn for the worse.

  “I’ve spent the last three months running simulations and working my way through every last piece of data we collected over the past years of fighting,” he continued. “I believe that Roman Garibaldi intended to take power and present himself as the man who saved the Federation and the Outsiders. With the Outsiders almost whipped, gentlemen, they are in no state to dispute this version of events. Garibaldi, therefore, will bring his fleet back to Earth as quickly as possible. His goal will be to repeat my steps when I took the Grand Fleet to Earth after Tobias was shot.”

  He felt a sudden stab of pain. Tobias Vaughn had deserved better than to die that way...

  “But, in doing so, he will almost certainly shatter the Federation. We cannot allow it to succeed. We will not allow it to succeed.”

  Marius allowed his voice to harden. “This is a bitter blow,” he warned. “I will not try to h
ide just how badly Admiral Garibaldi’s defection will shake the navy. We went through a long succession of purges after Admiral Justinian launched his offensive against Earth, people, and going through it again could destroy us. But we have no choice. The destiny of the human race cannot be put in the hands of either Admiral Garibaldi or the Outsiders.”

  He swung around to look at General Thorne. “What’s the current situation on Earth?”

  “Uneasy,” Thorne said. “All vital installations, industries and housing complexes have been secured, but large parts of the planet are restless. The parasites who suck at the government’s teat are still demanding the resumption of their support payments, rather than doing something useful with their lives. They, however, are not a serious problem.”

  Marius felt a sudden stab of pain in his head. “And the truly serious problem?”

  “There haven’t been any new strikes, Emperor,” General Thorne said. “However, our industrial production has been dropping sharply over the last four months. I believe a number of workforces are deliberately slowing down, after we crushed the strikes.”

  “They’re suffering from worn-out equipment,” Tiffany said. “No matter how hard you push them, Marius, their ability to meet your demands is falling. It will take years to repair the damage we’ve inflicted on our own industry.”

  “They can meet our demands long enough to win the war,” Marius said, dismissively. Hadn’t there been a time when he’d listened to Tiffany? Was she trying to take their side? “General?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “I want you to start conscripting additional personnel from Earth,” Marius said. He’d hated the Earthers, back when he’d grown up on Mars. Ninety percent of the population was useless, yet they controlled the destiny of half the galaxy. “Everyone is to be given the standard aptitude test, then assigned for training as workers, spacers or security personnel. No more objections, General, no more protests about the right to suckle at the government’s teat. I want all protests crushed with extreme force.”