“I would caution against such accusations, Minister Farmorai,” Straiya countered.
Minister Farmorai hissed. “Article Fifteen of the Galactic Alliance Charter states that the Galactic Council must approve the development of military technology involving two or more Galactic Alliance member-species.”
“Rich coming from someone who only quotes the GAC when it suits them,” Foster added.
Minister Farmorai laughed again; Grimshaw detected a hint of unease. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I wager you don’t either.”
“Article Fifteen didn’t come up when your people shipped triathium to the Vargs three rotations ago,” Straiya said with that knowing smile she often wore.
“Well, ah, technically the Vargs were not in the Galactic Alliance, given that their membership was once again undergoing review,” the Rivarian stuttered. “Well…ah—”
“Let’s stick to the matter at hand.” Minister Foster cut in on the quarreling, turning the conversation back to Grimshaw. “Haven’t you contacted the Confederation Fleet as we suggested, Captain?”
“Yes, but with G-Gate Alpha still down, communications with the Confederation is erratic at best.”
“So, what is it you require from the Council?”
“Last time, I was told you’d look into the matter.”
“And so, we will.” Minister Foster’s voice boomed. “However, we have more pressing matters at hand, Captain. Your little stunt with Project Zero has sown disquiet in no small measure. We’ll spend the next rotation, and then some, cleaning up the mess you and your crew made. And that’s before we’ve even dealt with whispers of wars and rebellions.” Minister Foster shot Minister Straiya an accusing glare that she refused to acknowledge. “In the meantime, we’ve forwarded your request onto the Confederation Fleet through an agent. They will take care of things on our behalf until we’ve freed up resources.”
“But what if the Chits…I mean Aphnai attack—”
“What these pirates decide to do in Terran space is no concern of the Council’s,” Minister Zakahr’s projection cut in. “As Minister Foster has already informed you, weightier matters demand our attention at present.”
Grimshaw clenched his fists as he turned to the Tal’ri Minister’s shifting holoform. “Pirates?”
“You reported a single ship, did you not?”
“A single dreadnought destroyer of immense size. It had command of other vessels—”
“Still,” the Tal’ri representative cut in. “It was hardly a military exercise and therefore cannot be treated as an act of war against the Galactic Alliance. Even if we were to act, we have so few details on this marauding band.”
“My report was very clear about the threat to the Galactic Alliance. You could at least send a ship to check—”
“We’ve read your report, Aegis Grimshaw,” Straiya said, stressing his title. “Sending an agent to work with the Confederation Fleet is the best we can hope for. With Gate Alpha down and the increased volume clogging up alternative routes, accessing the Fringe is difficult. The agent we sent has been instructed to provide relief supplies to Colony 115 once the ship-ways have cleared; fully funded by this Council, of course.”
A relief effort for the few colonists that had survived was a step in the right direction, but it was a small concession in the grand scheme of things. Grimshaw changed tact. “What about the samples we brought back? We provided plenty of hard evidence. Weapons, armor, organics.”
“Those remain in quarantine pending review,” Zakahr said with disgust.
A wave of heat rolled up Grimshaw’s back. He did his best to suppress his ire. “We’ve been on the Sentinel for months. Surely they’ve been processed already.”
“Need we remind you how reckless it was to bring such foreign samples on board,” Minister Farmorai said. “Doing so put the lives of every citizen on the Sentinel at risk. It’s been centuries since we’ve had a serious outbreak, but the last one wiped out half of the population. So you’ll have to forgive us for taking precautions.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, Minister Farmorai is right,” Minister Straiya added. “The arrival of Project Zero has put additional…strain on station affairs. We’ll sort through these things in their own time.”
The Rivarian Minister shot Grimshaw a vindictive smile, his many rows of sharpened teeth gleaming in the cold light.
Sometimes, Grimshaw wondered whose ally Straiya was. Trying to understand politicians and the many webs they wove gave him a sore head. It took everything he had not to raise his voice. “While on the point, access to the North…Project Zero would aid us greatly in tracking Chimera. Her advanced artificial intelligence—”
“We will not allow it!” Minister Zakahr’s voice boomed as it always did when discussing the ship.
“Our technicians have not finished investigating the ship, and there’s no telling how dangerous the AI is. For all we know, it was compromised by the Chimera agents in Xerocorp Labs,” Minister Foster added. “A breach of Sentinel systems would be devastating.”
“You’ve risked infecting our people and the Sentinel itself,” Minister Farmorai added.
“No one has ever hacked the Sentinel’s core,” Grimshaw objected. “The ancient technology is beyond understanding.”
“And we will not offer a terrorist organization the opportunity to change that,” Minister Farmorai shouted, his shrill voice echoing through the chamber.
A wave of nervous chatter rolled through those gathered. Most of the crowd made sounds that agreed with Farmorai.
Foster raised his hand for quiet. “Is that all, Captain?”
“One more thing.” Grimshaw cleared his throat. “I still believe that going ahead with the Sentinel Ceremony is unwise.” He looked about the crowds and selected his next words carefully. “Given what you’ve mentioned and the lack of progress regarding Chimera and their…intentions…I would recommend postponing the celebrations.”
Hackles and cries of malcontent erupted among the eaves.
“Quiet,” Minister Zakahr’s voice resounded through the chamber, silencing the turbulence. “The Sentinel Ceremony is an important tradition. It is as integral to our society as the laws that guide us. One cannot simply postpone such a thing.”
“Will you consider relocating the public celebration to a more secure location? Sentinel Square is not the easiest position to defend.”
“You suspect that Chimera will cause trouble during the festival?” Zakahr asked. “What evidence do you have?”
“No evidence.” Grimshaw avoided telling them he had a feeling. “But it would be wise to take precautions. The people will celebrate, of course. But pressing ahead with the ceremony in Sentinel Square is not—”
“Not necessary?” Minister Farmorai spat. “This is the problem with Terrans. They turn up uninvited one day and expect us to change the very fabric of our culture. I tire of their unreasonable demands,” he gestured at Grimshaw. “Will you next request that we submit all power to you Terrans? You would have us as slaves!”
“Bridle your tongue, Farmorai,” Straiya warned.
The Rivarian minister looked to Zakahr for support and when none was forthcoming sank back in his seat.
“Postponing or adjusting the ceremony would be to admit defeat to Chimera,” Foster said. “It cannot be allowed.”
The crowd raised their voices in agreement.
“At least allow me to post some of my people,” Grimshaw all but pleaded.
“That won’t be necessary,” Minister Zakahr said. “Sergeant Chin’s officers are more than capable.”
Foster turned to Grimshaw again. “It has been settled. The ceremony will proceed as planned.”
“With the warring gangs in the Underways—”
Another roar of disquiet, louder than the previous, rolled through the Open Chamber, drowning out Grimshaw’s words.
“Those disgusting Underways creatures are of little concern,” Minister Farmorai screeched above the
hackles and cries. “They are being dealt with…accordingly.”
“We’ve no need to worry about such filth,” Zakahr agreed. “Such infighting keeps the animal numbers down.”
Grimshaw looked to Straiya for support again, but none was forthcoming.
Foster sighed audibly. “I take it that is all Captain.”
It sounded like more of a warning than a question.
Grimshaw had to stop himself from gasping in disbelief at their lack of cooperation. “That’s everything.”
“Foster, you insisted that this so-called Chimera problem be dealt with by Terrans,” Zakahr said. “Do we need to make adjustments to these arrangements?”
“I’m sure Captain Grimshaw will have better news for us next time,” Minister Foster said. “Isn’t that right, Captain?”
“I’ll do my best,” was all Grimshaw could manage without showing his disdain.
“If you fail us, Captain, we’ll have no choice but to hand the project over to Sentinel Security, and you don’t need me to tell you they already have enough on their plates,” Minister Foster said.
Grimshaw offered a curt nod. “Understood.”
“That concludes our session,” Minister Foster said. “Today’s session is adjourned.” Minister Foster swung his hammer, and the place erupted into conversation as politicians left their seats.
Two guards appeared at Grimshaw’s sides and escorted him back into the empty waiting area. They returned to the Open Chamber corridor, the sturdy doors locking behind them.
Grimshaw took a minute to gather his thoughts in silence. The Council had locked him out of the North Star for political reasons. Any other reason they gave was a lie. He hated having to deal with vipers, but it was an unfortunate part of his job. Everyone had a string tied to him: Minister Straiya had made him an Aegis, and Minister Foster had placed him in charge of the Chimera Project. The human Minister had also supported Admiral Axton’s decision to promote Grimshaw to the rank of captain despite not having command of his own vessel. He’d hope the SS North Star would be on the cards as part of the promotion, but it turned out to be too much to hope for. Grimshaw scratched the shadow growing on his jaw. He would need to start thinking more like politicians if he was going to play their game. He needed to start pulling on strings of his own.
His SIG alerted him to a call. Grimshaw was going to ignore it until he noticed it was coming from Taza Arkona. He glanced about, and satisfied the area was still empty answered with a swipe of his index finger.
“Is this a secure channel?” Grimshaw asked.
“No. I’m broadcasting our conversation all over the Sentinel.” Taza’s words dripped with sarcasm. “Of course, it’s secure. What do you take me for?”
Grimshaw looked around to make sure no one nearby was listening, but the antechamber was pretty quiet since most of the day’s business had been concluded. “We can’t talk long. I’m just outside the Open Chamber.”
“Well, stick a bonnet on my head, and call me Shelly,” Taza quipped. “Aren’t you important?”
“What is it?”
“I’ve got something you’ll want to see.” The ex-archagent sounded excited. “Remember our deal?”
“What about it?”
“Let’s say I might have the key to getting you back onto the North Star. Meet me at the usual place. Thirty minutes.”
Grimshaw was about to ask for more details on what he’d discovered, but Taza cut the line. The man was almost as much of a serpent as those on the Council, and Grimshaw had already had his fill of snakes for the day, but he was eager to find out more about this so-called key.
Grimshaw approached the administration desk and retrieved his weapons from the automated locker. The blaster clicked into the recess on his hip, and the rifle snapped onto the maglock over his TEK’s shoulder. He exited the waiting area into a long corridor that eventually terminated at Sentinel Square. Stepping outside, he was glad for the fresh air and sunlight on his face. His eyes drifted from the blue sky—an illusion created by the Sentinel’s sun-shields—to the busy square at the foot of Sentinel Tower.
The area buzzed with engineers, builders, and organizers as they completed preparations for the Sentinel Ceremony. The stage at the head of the square was almost finished, and people moved about the square proper erecting seats for the more influential attendees. Those with less power would be forced to stand at the foot of the square. Thousands were expected to attend. Grimshaw couldn’t help but think about what a tactical nightmare it would be if Chimera were to attack.
Grimshaw wound his way through heavy machinery and made for the aircar dock by the primary walkway.
Only one aircar cab lay in wait, which seemed a bit unusual. Normally, the dock was choked with cabbies this time of day.
Before he could reach for the handle, the cab’s door opened, causing him to move back a step. A scantily clad human climbed out of the vehicle and straightened herself as three spheres arose from behind and floated several feet above her head.
Even without the mobile cameras, Grimshaw would have noticed that pretty face framed by elaborately knotted auburn hair anywhere.
Damn reporter again.
She wore tight shorts so close in shade to her pale skin that, at first glance, one could have been forgiven for thinking that heels were all she wore below the waist. Jet-black hair hung to her shoulders, braids around her crown twisted into elaborate patterns. A thin gauze shawl draped over her shoulders, barely covering her breasts. She wore nothing under the see-through material, leaving everything to the imagination. An intricately carved locket, in the shape of an upside-down triangle, hung from a chain around her neck, intentionally drawing the eyes to her cleavage.
Grimshaw had lost count of the times Faye Layah had tried to ambush him since he’d arrived on the Sentinel.
“Captain Grimshaw!” She exclaimed with flamboyant surprise. “Why, fancy finding you here.”
Grimshaw suspected she had been waiting for him the whole time and had paid the other cabbies to leave the dock.
She keyed a command into a SIG that looked like an ornate bracer, and the three humming spheres took up various positions around them.
“Indeed, what a coincidence?” Grimshaw said, making no effort to mask his irritation—and doing his best to keep his eyes from drifting downward.
Her red lips curved into a smile, the faint scar on her left cheek dimpling. “It must be over six Earth-months since we first me, Captain. When are you gonna ask me out on a date?”
“You have some nerve, lady, after that hit piece you ran on me.” He reached for the aircar door.
Faye side-stepped, interposing herself between him and the vehicle, his hand brushing against her stomach as he tried to pull it away. “Oh please, if I ran a hit piece on you, Captain, you’d be homeless by now. Lucky for you, I only do that to the bad guys.”
“I hope those things aren’t recording,” he said, swiping at a floating camera that got too close to his head. It zig-zagged out of the way like an oversized insect. “The last news-cast on me was hardly accurate.”
“Then consider this offer an opportunity to set the record straight,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “The rumor mill is still full of talk about a conspiracy to hide advanced ancient technology from the masses. Technology that, if made available, could alleviate the pain and suffering on planets like Colony 23, where people have been struggling since the Kragak War. Have you ever been to Colony 23, Captain?”
“No, I haven’t. I know they’ve got problems. But—”
“I doubt you know the half of it, Captain. Do you not believe that such people deserve our help?”
“I can’t talk about classified information. But I can tell you that the Galactic Council are doing what they can to alleviate problems here and elsewhere. The Confederation also does their share. It may have ended decades ago, but mankind as a whole still hasn’t completely recovered from the war. It’ll take time.”
“
Said like a true public servant,” she mocked.
Grimshaw didn’t consider himself a public servant, as such, but she was right. I’m starting to sound like a politician. The thought was unpleasant. “You have an answer for everything.”
“Any reporter worth her salt knows that answers are the best tools for extracting answers. Speaking of the Kragak war—”
He threw his hand up in objection. “My answer hasn’t changed. Now, do you mind stepping aside? I have an urgent appointment to keep.”
She folded her arms under her chest like a stubborn child and stood her ground for a moment, the buzzing cameras floating beyond swatting distance around Grimshaw. Eventually, she huffed and stepped aside. “You can’t play the silent card forever, Grimshaw. The people of the Sentinel are interested in you. They demand answers, and they’ll get them. One way or another,” she said with a half-smile.
Without another word, he climbed into the back of the aircab and slammed the door shut, unsure whether to take her last comment as a threat or a friendly jab. Faye was more than a mere journalist. She was a celebrity, and celebrities had a lot of pull on the Sentinel, especially in the Overways.
Having to meet Taza on Level Two was already turning out to be a pain in the ass.
Whatever he has better be good.
4
The Fist of Orinmore
Taza blew a stream of fumes out of his face as he finished soldering Clio’s control unit to the serial transfer device they had built together.
“You should wear a safety mask,” Zora chirped from behind him. “Those fumes will kill you.”
“I’ve inhaled worse,” Taza countered playfully.
“I have to admit; I’m impressed with your work.”
“It wasn’t easy, but we’re almost there,” Taza said. “Just a few finishing touches.”
“You’ve got to give the kid credit,” Zora said, gleefully. “She’s got brains. Seems like she gave you a run for your money on this one.”
“We came up with the idea together,” he reminded her. “But yeah. She’s damn smart for a kid. She packs a mighty punch too.” Taza rubbed the side of his chin where Clio had slipped past his guard during training. The girl had a lot of drive and had improved drastically over the past six revolutions. That she’d been made one of the Confederation Fleet’s youngest Ensigns was hardly a surprise.
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