by Jay Allan
The Highborn had their place in that story, and she understood that to a degree. But the genetically engineered…gods, monsters, people—it depended on one’s perspective, she supposed—had not caused the decline. In fact, they had been created in response to the slide already in progress, one that threatened an empire that had endured for a hundred centuries.
Andi had begun to develop an idea of the primary stimuli that brought on the downfall…and she didn’t like what she’d begun to piece together. She was hesitant to even mention it, but she’d seen too many references…and anything that had led to the deaths of a trillion or more human beings couldn’t be kept hidden. No matter how unpleasant its implications.
“This is rather more…conjecture…I’m afraid, but I think it is something that needs to be said. The Highborn were a failed solution to the empire’s troubles, but they did not create those problems. The empire was already in a parlous state when the Highborn were created. We will have to study more…a great deal more. But I believe what we have uncovered so far strongly suggests an answer to what has always been an unanswerable question. Why did the empire fall?”
She hadn’t even talked to Tyler about what she was about to say.
“If there had been an invasion, even a civil war, at least one beyond the violence of the Cataclysm itself, we would long ago have found records of it. A plague, some kind of widespread failure in food production, any major disaster…again, there would have been some historical evidence. Why not for the Cataclysm? Why so much mystery?” She paused. “Because, while the actual final fall of the empire was violent and deadly, the events leading up to it were not. There were no massive wars, no pandemics, nothing of the sort. The empire declined because of its prosperity, because it had united all of humanity. Because it had no enemies on its borders, and no real dissension within. People became apathetic, and less and less productive. They wasted their time in pointless disputes over meaningless issues. For the first time since humanity clawed its way from the deep jungle to build the first civilization, there was no pressure on most people. No war, no famine, no uncontrolled disease. It seems like paradise, but instead it was a road to hell. We lost our spark, our drive…and that condemned us to decline, and perhaps to total destruction.”
Andi was surprised at herself. Everything she’d just blurted out was her own read on what she’d seen, and very far from certain. But it all made sense, and despite the continued stunned looks around the table, she got the sense it did to everyone else as well.
They all looked as horrified as she was.
“Our parents and our grandparents—and our great grandparents---faced a stark choice. Struggle to survive or face extinction. The Rim, and the Hegemony, recovered as quickly as they did—and a few centuries is not a long time in this context—because of the way our ancestors approached that choice. The apathy, the decadence, was gone. Those who strived, who fought and struggled, lived…at least some of them did. The rest died. But enough grew strong to preserve humanity, and to begin to rebuild. Whether our reality, our cultures and nations, are indeed an actual recovery, or just a blip on the continuing descent to an eternal dark age, I will leave to others to theorize.”
Andi was silent, and she found it difficult to breathe, to suck in the air she needed. She’d phrased her words carefully, but in her own mind, she understood exactly what she had proposed. The war, the death, the horrors she and those close to her had endured…was it possible they were necessary to humanity’s continued development, to its progress?
To its ultimate survival?
She longed for peace, for a calm and quiet life, and it sickened her to think all the negatives, all the suffering, had been somehow necessary, at least in a macro-historical sense.
There was a long silence. Finally, Akella stood up. “You have given us much to consider, Captain Lafarge. Knowledge of our enemy can only help, but I believe now our goal must be to expand that understanding, past who they are and where they came from…to how to defeat them. How to destroy them. Whether we are condemned to endure constant war and strife—or to perish from too much peace and contentment—we must first defeat the Highborn.”
They had always seen Akella’s even temperament, but now everyone saw a glimpse of the rage she was feeling. It was the first time anyone present had seen her out for blood.
Welcome to the club, Number One…to a universe that has less use for intellect than brute force and merciless brutality.
“Yes,” Barron said, rising as Akella had done. “That is next on our agenda. We must scour every imperial record we can find, search for any hint of how the imperials dealt with the Highborn.” Barron paused and looked at each of those present in turn. “Because the instability the Highborn caused may have contributed to the inevitable fall of the empire, but it is clear the teetering imperial forces somehow managed to defeat, or at least deflect, their efforts. The Highborn have come back from beyond the old empire, not from within…and if they had succeeded, they would be ruling over us all even now. The imperials did something to contain them…and we need to find out what.
* * *
“There has been some improvement, Tyler. I wish I had more definitive news, but I believe there is cause for optimism.” Akella reached out and put her hand on Barron’s arm.
Barron stared back at the Hegemony ruler, and he found his head moving, a subtle nod of acknowledgement. He’d been uncertain when Chronos and Akella had first suggested he transfer Atara to a Hegemony medical facility, but in the end, he had agreed. The Hegemony had a higher general tech level, and there wasn’t much argument that their medicine was ahead of the Confederation’s as well, if not by an immense margin, very possibly by enough to mark the difference between his friend’s survival and her death. His own medical officers had been able to do precious little beyond sustaining her in a medpod, so there hadn’t really been any other options.
“Thank you, Akella. Atara is very important to me. We’ve been together, fought together, for a very long time.”
“Of course, Tyler. It was the least we could do.” A pause. “I do not wish to give you false hope. There is reason for cautious optimism, but she is still in a very precarious state.”
Barron understood Akella was trying to give him an idea of the odds without reducing it to so cold and dire a format. His gut told him 60-40 Atara would survive, which wasn’t good by any measure, save only the comparison to the nearly hopeless prognosis his own doctors had offered.
“We will hope for the best…and be thankful your technology is ahead of ours.”
“Not for long. I will see that the provisions of the Pact are honored to the letter, including the sharing of all technological and scientific knowledge. In a few years, your people will have all the technology of mine. I hope that proves my sincerity about our people becoming allies for the long term. The past is gone. The scars linger, perhaps, but now we stand side by side as we face our greatest challenge.”
Barron nodded. He’d been struggling to get past his own resentments and lingering hostilities toward the Hegemony, and Akella’s effort to help save Atara had gone a long way to getting him there. If the Hegemony’s Number One was correct, and the technology transfers specified in the Pact were in fact made, he believed for the first time that he could truly move on from all that had happened.
Whether that would amount to anything beyond just dying alongside his new allies remained to be seen.
* * *
“Gary, I’m glad you made the trip. I’m sorry to say, I’m going to have to ask you to go right back. We need to get the Pact ratified by the Senate, and if there is any way to do it short of sending Clint Winters back to secure it at gunpoint, I think we’ll be far better off.”
Holsten nodded. “I expected this conversation, and of course, I will see it done. I’ll do what I have to, but I don’t really think it will be that difficult. The casualty reports from Calpharon, and the specifics from Andi’s research, are very likely to scare the living
shit out of the politicians. That’s a technical term, of course, but I think one that accurately describes the fear level I expect to find in the chambers.”
“It all scared the hell out of me, so I suspect you are right. But make sure, okay? And get word to me immediately if you have any problems. Its not the tech transfers I’m worried about. That’s a no brainer. We come out way ahead on those. It’s the use of it all, specifically the construction of an antimatter production facility. Akella told me it took the Hegemony thirty years to build each of theirs. We’ve got two, maybe three years…or we’re going to lose this war because we run out of antimatter. The Senate has to make this the entire Confederation’s number one project, and they have to supply the resources to get it done, even if it craters the economy. We need a national effort, the likes of which we never seen before. It’s a matter of survival, and…” Barron stopped. He’d always been hesitant to interfere in the political realm, and even more reluctant to threaten politicians. To behave like a military dictator, though he’d had his chances to become just that if he’d been so inclined. But if Gary Holsten’s efforts failed, if Barron had to go back to Megara from the front…any Senator he didn’t line up along a wall in front of Bryan Rogan’s Marines would be one lucky bastard.
And they’d all be even worse off if he sent the Sledgehammer instead.
“I understand, Tyler. I will see it done…whatever I have to do.”
There was a long silence. Then, Holsten added, “Do you want me to bring Andi and your daughter back to Megara with me? Right now, that’s about as far from the fighting as anyone can get.”
Barron looked over at his friend. “No, Gary…not yet. It may be selfish, but I’m not ready to let them go. I think we’ll have a respite here, probably a fairly long one. We lost at Calpharon, but we hurt the Highborn too, and they’ve got the burden of invasion, worlds to occupy, lengthening supply lines, greater distance from home bases. It will be some time, I’m guessing, before they can resume their advance, and we’ll get plenty of notice from the pickets we’ve got posted on all the approaches when they do. I’ll want Andi and Cassie out of here before the fighting starts again, of course…” Barron paused. Getting Andi out of harm’s way had never been an easy task. He wasn’t proud of his intention to use his daughter to guilt her into retreating when the time came, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it. “…but I’m betting we’ve got a least a year, and probably more…”
He hesitated again, and he looked down at the floor. “And that might be the only time I ever have with them.” He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t have to. Gary Holsten knew as well as Barron did the odds the fleet faced. Morale required some optimism, and a healthy dose of defiance, but inside, Tyler Barron was fighting off the encroaching hopelessness…and he suspected Holsten had no rosier a take on their situation.
He would fight, they would all fight—fight like hell—but that was all he knew for sure. The rest would have to wait. The future would unfold in its own time.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Highborn Grand Flagship S’Evelion
Imperial System GH9-27C1
Year of the Firstborn 384 (322 AC)
“The conquest of the Hegemony capital is an achievement, Tesserax. There is little question of that.” Ellerax stared intently at his subordinate. The two were alone in Ellerax’s sanctuary. The leader of the Highborn rarely allowed anyone save his closest servants into the large, but modestly furnished, space. It was his own retreat, the place he came when he wished to think, when he craved quiet, simplicity. But he’d wanted to speak to Tesserax alone, undisturbed. It was sometimes a difficult thing to discipline subordinates, and no less so to commend them…but it was always a delicate act to combine the two, as he intended to do now.
And even more challenging when the subject was one of the Highborn…indeed, one of the Firstborn.
Tesserax sat quietly in the leather chair next to Ellerax, looking as though he wanted to speak, but holding his tongue. Ellerax appreciated the restraint, the control on display. Arrogance was common among the Highborn, and especially the Firstborn, the five hundred specimens of the first quickening. Ellerax, who acknowledged he suffered no less from the affliction than his peers, felt it was unavoidable. His people had been created to serve as humanity’s gods, and humility in deities, in beings superior in every way to the billions who worshipped them, seemed unattainable.
“The resources you required, however—and the losses suffered in the campaign—have greatly exceeded prior estimates by a large margin. Including your own figures, I might add. I would not be overly concerned, Tesserax, but you know as well as I that we face another, far graver conflict, a war we have fought now for almost two centuries, against an enemy far more dangerous than the humans. Indeed, we fight not only for ourselves but to defend our lowly charges, to protect them from destruction even as they battle against us to resist our ordained rule over them. The points you raised in your arguments for the invasion centered on our need to increase the human populations we control, to bring new and fresh genetic lines into the Thrall stock, and indeed, there is little argument to be made against such a view. It is almost self-evident. We long ago planned the reconquest of the old imperial space, and such an effort was overdue.”
He looked over at Tesserax, and his gaze hardened. “But we can no longer supply the level of resources you have utilized here. The primary front is stalemated, and we cannot spare any further strength. Indeed, the outright loss of eighteen battleships, is a hard blow, one that was quite a surprise. The surviving heavy vessels will be withdrawn at once, and the flow of equipment and reserves to this theater will be severely cut.”
Tesserax shifted in his seat, and finally, he spoke. “High Lord, the conquest of the Hegemony capital is a major milestone, but significant enemy forces were able to escape. Coupled with the evidence that most or all of the Rim is now allied with the remaining Hegemony forces, it will require…considerable…effort and strength to complete the conquest.”
“Yes…that is true. An unfortunate aspect of your failure to trap and eliminate the combined human forces when you had the chance.” Ellerax allowed a bit of edge into his tone, though not too much. He wanted to express some disappointment in his subordinate, but not to cut too deeply into Tesserax’s pride. The Highborn Ellerax acknowledged him as the first of their race and their leader, but they were arrogant and brittle as well, especially the Firstborn. Maintaining their loyalty and obedience was always somewhat of an effort in balance, one Ellerax had mastered over the past three centuries.
Tesserax’s expression hardened, but he didn’t respond.
“Perhaps we all underestimated the power the humans have managed to reclaim since the empire’s fall. We, too, were forced to rebuild after we were driven into the uncharted depths, and now we are stronger than ever. We must remember that these humans, inferior as they may be, are no longer the dissipated and decadent citizens of the ancient empire. Their societies survived the empire’s fall, and no doubt, they have seen much strife and battle. It should not surprise us that they possess some strength. Indeed, that is good news, in its own way. We wanted better Thralls than the depleted descendants of the imperials we brought with us on our exodus…and it appears that is just what we have found. I am inclined to believe you were right, Tesserax, to encourage swifter action than we might have taken.” Now, he was building the chastised Highborn back up, offered him praise alongside the chastisement, maintaining his loyalty. “You will remain here and in command, my old friend, and you will continue the conquest of all the humans descended from the old empire. They will become part of our war effort, serve with our fleets, and do their part to defend against the true enemy.”
Tesserax looked silently at Ellerax, and despite what appeared to be his best efforts, some confusion showed through. Finally, he said, “I do not see how that is possible, Lord Commander, not with the reduction in the forces committed to the theater. Calpharon was a clear target, one th
e enemy was almost compelled to defend. Now, they could be anywhere. They may spread out, seek to delay our advances. Position themselves at multiple chokepoints. Pacification will be a slow process, and one requiring considerable resources.” A pause, then: “There is little to be gained by leaving me in my post without the ability to achieve ultimate success.”
Ellerax nodded. He had been testing Tesserax, at least to an extent, and the commander had passed. He had overcome his arrogance and considered the next phase of the campaign coldly, analytically. And he had admitted an inability to achieve victory.
“I am pleased to see your analyses more focused, more realistic. You have my complete confidence, Tesserax, my friend, even after the miscalculations that have plagued the invasion. There is little choice regarding the deployment of more forces to this sector. The situation at the main front simply will not allow it. However, there is one resource I am able to offer you. Time.”
Ellerax paused for a moment, and then he continued. “We are beings of thought, of intellect. The success of the campaign to date, limited as it is, has provided considerable gain. Calpharon and the other worlds where the Hegemony populations were spared provide billions of potential Thralls, as well as considerable, if primitive, industry. With some time, and a moderate flow of certain supplies, we should be able to turn the occupied human worlds into the engine to complete our conquest.”
“You are proposing we harness the human factories and shipyards, that we build new ships to fight the war here?” Tesserax looked uncertain, but also intrigued.
“I am proposing exactly that, though perhaps ‘propose’ is not the correct word. By my command, I hereby designate you the viceroy of the Highborn in all the former sectors of the old empire…a volume of space which will now be called, ‘The Colony.’ Your mandate is to harness the captured resources under your control, and to build the ships and weapons you require to complete the occupation of all human-inhabited space. You will have inquisitors to aid in the establishment of church facilities to facilitate control over the conquered populations…and even now, a large shipment of collars is en route to provide what you will need until local production can be initiated. The Colony will continue the war to bring the humans under our control, even as the resources of our home space feed the war effort on the primary front. It is thus that we will achieve all of our ends.”