by Ryan Krauter
Now the crowd roared, naysayers drowned out by the people clamoring for proof. Halley brought out a small data pad, which she'd loaded with the entirety of Dennix's ring data. There had been many discussions early on about how to present the information to the Confederation; should the navy pirate the airwaves, force everyone to watch? Should they try to indict Dennix and use it at a trial? Should they approach him in private and appeal to his better nature and ask him to step aside? In the end, it was decided a public spectacle, while potentially dangerous, seemed the most open. Everybody would see it at the same time, no special privileges or deals. Halley told everyone she'd know what to do when the time came.
She tapped a few buttons and took over the feeds for all the displays on the promenade surrounding them and tapped on her first selection, what she called Dennix's Greatest Hits.
A scene appeared on the screens and in the holo fields, slightly grainy and with the occasional static burst, but it was a well-preserved recording in all other respects. It was a shop of some sort, maybe a restaurant. The place was shot up, tables overturned, and the ebb and flow of gunfire and explosions was a running soundtrack in the background. The video was relatively clear for a small bubble of the scene, the center being the most detailed with things becoming hazy and undefined a few arm-spans away. The audio, though, was well preserved.
There, in the middle of the sphere, was Senator Zek Dennix and his aide, Ples Damar. Dennix spoke.
“Because if we make it out of this, I am starting to wonder if this bargain needs to be altered.” His arm rose, revealing a small blaster. Without warning, he pulled the trigger once just as the outside noise rose to a crescendo, the explosions and gunfire absorbing the sound of the blaster shot. Damar fell to the ground as Dennix tossed his blaster aside.
The video showed him telling the soldiers around him that Damar had been shot somehow, and then Dennix removed the ring from Damar's hand and put it in his pocket.
The scene faded and the crowd surged back and forth while their volume rose. Halley suddenly wondered if such a public reveal wasn't the best choice, but it was the only way she could guarantee the signal wouldn't be blocked. The signal always got through somehow.
"The next clip is between the senator and his Priman handler, a woman named Tana Starr." Without waiting, she played the next track as Tana Starr spoke to the senator.
“In any case, your original terms were for you to act as our figurehead or representative after we’d conquered the Confederation. Since your escape from Delos, we have altered our plans. As you have no doubt noticed, we have altered the axis of invasion to pass more through Talaran space, since our efforts to destabilize their government were more thorough and wide-ranging than here. To that end, we again offer the terms of limited autonomy and our protection in return for your pledge to do your part in our eventual occupation.”
"I have it all here, three years' worth," Halley said loudly, her voice barely audible over the crowd's reaction. "Copies have already been sent to all major news outlets and placed in public buffers all over the Galactic Data System. You are all welcome to verify the integrity of this information. In addition, it's important that you all know, the Primans directly involved with this operation have also been removed from power by their own people. It seems both sides of this conflict didn't handle things all too carefully, and even now there is a Priman fleet in orbit with their new Commander at the helm. She has vowed to stay in orbit and meet with our government to negotiate a new treaty; a lasting, honest truce between the Primans and us, and after that the galaxy at large."
Halley turned to the senators behind her, having set up the most perfect segue she'd ever arranged.
She held out the data tablet to Senator Thyatt, whom she'd started to believe was one of the good ones. He took it from her with reverence, a little nervous as he looked at the front of the stage where she was indicating he should go. That was good, she thought. If he had been too eager to grab the limelight, she might have started to doubt him, but his reservations struck her as a good thing.
"Senator," she whispered, temporarily muting the feeds on the pad which she'd used to broadcast her voice over the promenade's PA system, "we're handing all of you a golden opportunity to start over, to do right by the Confederation and her citizens. Remember the abuses Dennix took and what really drove him, then do the opposite, ok?" Thyatt nodded. "Alright then." Halley turned him to face the crowd, her demeanor suddenly deadly serious, "And don't screw this up. I'll be watching."
Sixteen
Dennix was mortified. He hadn't moved a muscle during the broadcast, and now that one of the senators was speaking, that feed was shifted to one channel while news outlets the galaxy over stumbled to get the first analysis of the day's events in.
But it was all just window dressing to Dennix. It was shiny new paint over a rusted panel. He felt like he was watching somebody else's life, a low budget theater production plagued by bad acting and horrible reviews. Nothing mattered because it was all a sham.
He slumped back in his seat, hands on the table. Then he noticed the ring he was wearing: Damar's ring. Revulsion swept through him and he ripped it from his finger, pinching the skin over his knuckle and tearing a chunk off with it. He threw it against the compartment's bulkhead, but of course it was too late. He looked at his finger, the torn skin. A few drops of blood formed in the wound, beading up and running partly down his finger. He watched them gather and as one form a drop big enough to fall from his hand, onto the scratched and dingy surface of his desk, another prop from his former life of somebody who was important, even feared. Now, he was just a hack, probably a criminal, on the run with nothing to his name and a small wound that would probably get infected on this mediocre vessel.
Suddenly, the ship shifted, engines whining as they spooled up. He felt the vessel rise in the air and then accelerate. It snapped him out of his reverie just enough to allow him to stagger to the small cockpit, where Enric Shae was flying from the pilot's seat.
"Somehow we just got clearance, Senator," Enric said, look of surprise on his face. "We're going to get out of this mess."
Loren and Elco looked at each other as Dennix severed the connection.
"So," Loren started, "you think he's going to try to escape?"
"Of course he is," Elco replied. "He's not the sort who'd stand up and admit what he did. But every last ship in the air or in orbit right now is there on an approved military flight plan. No way he'll just waltz out of here."
They were still standing when a new comm request came in. Loren looked at the tag and saw it was Admiral Bak. He glanced at Elco, who nodded.
"Admiral," Elco said as Loren turned to join the captain once again.
"Captain Elco, Commander Stone," Bak said, all smiles now and looking like a man who'd been dragging boulders behind him for years and was suddenly free of the burden. "I hope you're doing well."
"Quite, all things considered," Elco replied. "Ship's pretty beat up, but that seems to be par for the course. Hopefully we can take our time in dry dock, though."
"I think that is a distinct possibility, Captain." Bak looked like he was in the cockpit of a transport. "I'm coming to visit, Captain. I have some debriefs I'd like to show you, plus I'd like to shake both your hands before things calm down and we get sent all over creation for whatever comes next. I'm in the small shuttle with transponder tag F-43."
Loren glanced at the screen to the side of the one the admiral was on and saw his track on the tactical display.
"We have a lot to discuss, Captain," Bak continued. "I'm pretty sure our little coalition is going to offer to let the Primans keep most or all of the Enkarran Empire's possessions. That will cause no small amount of trouble, especially with the Enkarrans who were allies of sorts at the end."
"Glad it's not my job to deal with that," said Loren.
"There's also the matter of the military itself. Confed in general just built what we needed and drafted people to fill the jo
bs. We're going to have to do an accounting now of all that happened, where the money went, that sort of thing. And you know from your history that after a war, the first thing people want to do is park the entire military and cut everyone from the roster and send us home. This whole thing isn't completely in the bag, though I'll admit the worst is over. Still, a lot of work to do."
Loren looked at Elco, wondering why the admiral was rambling so much when he was on the way over in the first place.
"There's also the matter of my court-martial," Admiral Bak continued.
"What?" asked Elco.
"We put it off during the war, and Fleet Admiral Privac kept the hounds off me because of what I could do for the war, but it's time to own up."
"That's going to be awkward, to say the least," Loren offered. "You're one of the faces of victory here."
"So are you, Loren, Sirian. We have no shortage of heroes, and you two are among the next generation to bear that mantle. My only regret is the mess this will cause Confed. It's too bad I didn't go out fighting, eh? There's a little backwater world I saw in our catalogs once, and there was a military man who rose to be one of the most feared of his generation, commanded a huge army during a war that engulfed the whole planet. He feared a fate like what's happened to me; surviving the conflict only to become irrelevant, maybe even a burden. He said the best end to a warrior was to catch the last bullet of the last war. Good way to go, don't you think?"
"We'll just have to make due with more of you, Admiral," Elco said, trying to make his grin look genuine. The admiral had a point about the repercussions of his actions, and the fallout would no doubt tarnish the achievements of himself as well as others, but he'd spent the last three years paying that debt to the benefit of the Confederation as well.
"I just wanted to ask if you'd say something nice at my court martial," Bak continued. "I can't be above everyone else, and certain things won't be put to rest until I'm out of the picture."
"I'll write you a glowing letter as well," Elco said.
"Thank you, Captain. I'll see you soon."
The image cut off and they were left with the tactical feed for the area. Loren glanced off to the track showing the admiral's shuttle, but suddenly the shuttle disappeared.
Loren's expression froze as he turned to Captain Elco. Elco was already calling up a camera feed of the area, and the feed showed the shocking truth; there was a dissipating fireball where Admiral Bak's shuttle had just been.
"What the..." Loren said slowly as he looked as his captain.
"I think the Admiral was saying his goodbyes just now."
"You think he destroyed his own shuttle?" Loren asked, surprised but at the same time thinking it wasn't such an outlandish idea.
"He knew his trial was going to drag the military into an ugly mess. He couldn't just walk away; maybe this was his way of tying up that particular loose end."
Loren shook his head. The man had a lot to offer Confed; suicide was an option Loren wouldn't have guessed at. "What a waste."
"Let's get Search and Rescue out there ASAP. I'm sure there will be plenty of questions asked and we need to be on top of this. It's not out of the realm of possibility that the shuttle did just suffer a catastrophic failure, maybe hit an undetonated mine or torpedo." Elco didn't say it with much conviction, and Loren knew as well as he that there was only one solution that seemed to fit the character of the departed admiral.
Loren and Captain Elco both sank into the seats they stood by, neither one having any idea what to say. How did you just get back to business after events like these? Halley and Web on the news feeds showing the galaxy the depths of Zek Dennix's crimes, the Senate back in town and no doubt looking to take their seats again, Admiral Bak blowing up his own shuttle to save the military the show trial that would have tarnished their efforts; it was enough to make a person old beyond their years.
The comm system chimed again, a message addressed to both Loren and Elco.
"Oh, for the love of all things holy," Elco said gruffly, "Now what?"
Loren perked up just a bit. "It's from Garrett Drayven," he said, interest piqued. Seemed like the Fixer was always present at the edges of interesting events.
Elco pulled on the shoulders of his tunic to straighten it out, then nodded to Loren. They both remained seated on the near side of the table to the monitor, a relaxed look that Loren hoped would put the Fixer at ease as well.
"Captain, Commander," Garrett said by way of greeting as he nodded at them both. "Been a hell of a day, wouldn't you say?"
"That, my friend," replied Loren wearily, "is perhaps the understatement of the decade."
Garrett only nodded sagely. "I have news about Senator Dennix's whereabouts," he added conversationally.
Elco leaned forward, as did Loren. "How much will this cost us?" Elco asked.
"Just this once, Captain, it's free." He saw the doubtful looks on their faces and smiled. "You all know I am required by my business interests to maintain a neutral profile. I don't take sides, I really don't; it's just bad business. But Dennix and Shae have to go. For their crimes, for what they would continue to do if allowed to roam free, take your pick. Their end needs to be decided."
"And you're going to help us do that," Loren suggested.
"Better. I'm going to do it for you."
Shae and Dennix were both on the bridge of the ship as it cleared atmosphere and followed the departure path assigned by planetary control. Enric Shae marveled at the juice somebody must have had in order to get them clearance out of the area on a day like today.
The comm unit signaled an incoming message. It carried the recognition codes of the person who had arranged this whole setup in the first place. Enric eagerly hit the 'accept' button.
A face appeared that looked familiar to Enric. He'd seen it before... Confed military briefs?
"Hello gentlemen," the man began. "Sorry I wasn't able to properly introduce myself before, but time was short, you understand. My name is Garrett Drayven. I'm the Fixer who accepted your contract."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Drayven," said Enric. Dennix only nodded, not knowing what to make of the man. What did he want? Dennix didn't have much to offer any more, but there was obviously something this man thought he could get out of the Senator and his aide. Only time would tell, he supposed.
"I just wanted to double check everything was going as planned."
Enric verified the flight plan and saw a minor course correction had been plotted. He tapped a key to revert to the old route, which he considered more direct, but the flight plan wouldn't update. A puzzled look appeared on his face, which Garrett seemed to notice.
"Apparently everything is, in fact, going as planned." Garrett looked serene, peaceful.
"What are you talking about?" asked Dennix.
"I can't adjust the flight plan," Enric said to Garrett, looking him in the eye. "Why is navigation locked out?"
The bridge hatch abruptly shut, locks clanking into place as the door stopped. Dennix jumped up and ran to the frame, repeatedly hitting the release button to no avail. He dared a panicked look at Enric.
"What's going on here, Mr. Drayven?" Enric asked darkly. "We've already paid you; you're not going to extort more."
"Oh, I'm not worried about payment. In fact, I've returned your deposit. So, we're free and clear as of now." Garrett leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking just a little bit. Dennix noticed the comfortable surroundings, almost like an old fashioned sitting room or library. Those were the sort of trappings he deserved, not some Fixer who mingled with anyone willing to pay.
Garrett continued talking. "I had a very hard decision to make this morning. I found out about your need to get off planet. I realized this was a golden opportunity. I could help you, take the contract, and have you in my debt, or at least on your list of people to trust. That's worth a lot, you know. I could have cultivated you as a valuable source of intel, maybe more. But there was also the issue of what you've done to the C
onfederation the last couple years. Now," he held up his hands in a defensive gesture, "I never take sides. I have people I enjoy working with, but I try not to become entangled in their business. But just this once, mind you, I couldn't help it." He said it almost in a way that seemed like he himself was just now finding a way to put those thoughts to words.
"I'll tell you a story. I am, by necessity, a loner. Can't trust anyone, really. But then I met a few people I liked and realized I could count on. I haven't had friends in a long time, and I finally found some promising candidates. People who I could trust, who trusted me, and we all had a great understanding about life in general.
"And then you tried to kill them. A bunch of times." Garrett shook his head as sighed. "It started getting old, frankly. And I realized, these are good people, trying to undo the damage you created. Finally, I knew what I had to do. I had to spare them, to do the thing they wanted to but just couldn't bring themselves to do. I had to stop you two, for good."
"What is he doing?" Loren said, louder than he probably should have. Garrett had paused the connection, and now the split video feed showed him talking to another monitor where Loren could see Enric Shae and Zek Dennix in the cockpit of a small ship.
Garrett came back to their conversation. "I've just linked all of us together, because I really think everyone needs to know the score just now. Captain, you can look up Senator Dennix's ship. It's transponder code 5150, serial number 96SS-WX3. They're headed towards the sun."
"I sort of thought we were pals, Garrett," Loren said, trying to not show any emotion. He didn't want to assume the worst, but Garrett hadn't ever pledged loyalty to Confed, either.