Visions of Peace

by Matthew Sprange

  Admiral,’ he sighed, noting the olive-green uniforms of the two EarthForce soldiers standing behind her. ‘I really don’t have time for this.’

  ‘Some incidents have come to my attention regarding your use of EarthForce computer operations during your investigation here,’ she said, without missing a beat. ‘You will be taken into custody, pending further investigation of your actions.’

  ‘What?’ Shaw was incredulous. He expected trouble, but this approach put him on the back foot.

  ‘Take him away,’ said Keynes, motioning to the two soldiers. They stepped forward to grasp Shaw, but he stepped back and placed a finger on the chest of one.

  ‘By the terms of the Treaty of the Interstellar Alliance, I have full diplomatic immunity, and incarceration of my person brings penalties to Earth up to, and including, expulsion from the Alliance.’ That checked their approach. Shaw had absolutely no idea where those words came from, but he suddenly felt glad to have paid attention during all the long Anla’Shok political lessons he endured as part of his training.

  The noise level of the communication hub beyond the booth suddenly picked up noticeably, and they all turned to see President Luchenko enter, surrounded by her usual flock of asides and officers. Keynes whirled round to the soldiers.

  ‘Get them out of here, now--that’s an order!’ she hissed.

  Shaw decided on a more direct approach. ‘Madam President!’ he called, with a volume unusual enough that all eyes in the hub turned towards him. Suddenly feeling too conspicuous, Admiral Keynes spoke hurriedly.

  ‘Madam President, we have just uncovered a potential plot on the part of the ISA to hinder Earth’s war with the Centauri, providing them with critical information of fleet dispositions. I believe these Rangers are directly responsible for the loss of the Corax and its task force. I want them apprehended.’ Keynes directed the last part to the soldiers once more, and Shaw could see them wavering, their eyes on Luchenko, waiting to see what their President would order.

  With the attention of the entire hub, Shaw decided to plough forward. ‘Madam President, I believe we have uncovered the information we sought, exonerating the Republic from the attacks on Earth and its ships.’

  ‘More ISA lies,’ said Keynes, beginning to regain control of herself. ‘Madam President, we have sensitive operations here. We can interrogate these Rangers later to verify the veracity of their claims.’

  General Lefcourt stepped up to Luchenko’s side, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘Keynes, what is going on here?’

  ‘General, I have information you must hear,’ Shaw stepped in but was cut off by Keynes.

  ‘They are too dangerous to keep here!’

  ‘Admiral Keynes, stand down!’ said Luchenko, her voice cutting through the hub and silencing everyone instantly. ‘These are duly appointed representatives of the Interstellar Alliance, with full ambassadorial status. Of course we will hear what they have to say. And whatever they may or may not have done, we cannot arrest them.’

  Shaw breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you, Madam President.’

  July 9th 2263, Beta III, Centauri Republic

  Drumming his fingers on the control console of his seat, Sosa waited impatiently for a communication from Tuzanor. The holographic display was kept in tactical mode, and the bridge crew watched as the two fleets closed. A full-scale war was unfolding in front of them that would involve many members of the Interstellar Alliance, and Sosa felt powerless to stop it.

  ‘Captain, incoming transmission from Tuzanor,’ said a Minbari.

  ‘Put it through,’ Sosa said anxiously.

  Sheridan’s face immediately replaced the tactical display, and Sosa sat up straight.

  ‘Mr. President,’ he said. ‘Please tell me there is good news.’

  ‘We have what we need, Sosa,’ said Sheridan. ‘Whether they will pay attention is anyone’s guess. A prepared statement is being relayed to you now. Broadcast it on all frequencies--make sure every ship can receive it. Messages have already been sent to Earth and Centauri Prime.’

  Sheridan’s image disappeared, and a crewman reported that the statement had been received and was ready for relay to the opposing fleets.

  ‘Do it!’ said Sosa, desperate to see the results.

  On board the command destroyer Heracles, Ward listened intently to Sheridan’s message, rubbing his chin as the President of the Interstellar Alliance concluded his statement.

  ‘In the interests of peace and mutual prosperity, we urge both governments to reconsider their positions so a full investigation can be conducted by both yourselves and the Interstellar Alliance,’ he had said. ‘To the fleets at Beta III, which are moments away from engaging one another, we ask that you check your fire. Let diplomacy take its course. If we can trust each other for just a few days, we can avert a pointless war that will consume the lives of thousands, even millions, on both sides. Please, think before you act. History will judge you on what you choose to do right now.

  ‘What do we do, sir?’ asked his tactical officer.

  ‘What are the Centauri doing?’ Ward asked. ‘Have they checked their approach?’

  ‘Negative, sir. They are still coming.’

  He thought furiously. ‘Maintain formation. Signal to all ships, do not fire unless fired upon. And get me EarthForce command. They would have received this by now.’

  Within the bridge of the Turhan, a very different scene of events was taking place. As Sheridan’s voice faded, Provenza barked a laugh and was joined by the sniggering of several loyal bridge officers who tactically placed their mirth alongside their Minister’s.

  ‘You see?’ Provenza demanded of them. ‘We even have the mighty Interstellar Alliance running scared! My friends, we have the most powerful battle fleet the galaxy has ever seen and they know it!’

  ‘We are not delaying the attack then, Minister?’ asked his aide.

  ‘Of course not!’ Provenza said, snorting. ‘It is a delaying tactic, nothing more, something to buy a little time for their allies on Earth. Proceed as instructed. Let history remember our great victory here today, and let the Great Maker worry about the diplomacy of weak races!’

  His pugnacious attitude carried well across the bridge, and the crew went about their duties with renewed vigour. The aide’s next words instilled a dark, sinking feeling in his hearts though. ‘Minister, communiqué from Centauri Prime.’

  ‘I have no time for premature congratulations from the Centaurum or those seeking favours,’ he said, hoping to delay what he could already feel was.

  ‘Minister, it is the Emperor,’ said the aide. Now all eyes on the bridge turned to Provenza.

  He paused for a few seconds, one hand rubbing his temple as he fought to mentally stave off what he knew his Emperor would tell him. ‘Put it through to my station,’ he said quietly.

  Walking away from the crew to his own seat near the back of the bridge, he sat down heavily and composed himself before giving the signal to relay the Emperor to his private console. Mollari’s heavy face looked sternly at him, already appearing as if no argument would be brooked.

  ‘Minister Provenza, you are to hold position and cease any hostilities against the Earth fleet immediately,’ the Emperor said. ‘You are to allow them to leave Beta III unmolested, and you will not move until every one of their ships has gone. You are then to make your way to our colony on Beta III and begin work reconstructing their defences. Am I clear, Minister?’

  A hundred thoughts, questions and rebuttals went through Provenza’s mind as he saw his great victory flutter from his grasp. He knew a dozen arguments could be put to the Emperor: that to strike now would send a message to every government in the galaxy and keep the Republic’s borders safe for a century, that to destroy such a large portion of Earth’s military in one stroke could shift the entire balance of power in the region.

  Instead, he just answered weakly. ‘I understand, Majesty.’

  ‘Minister Provenza, if I hear of any conflict
between your ships and those of Earth, I will hold you personally--and painfully--responsible. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, Majesty.’

  July 9th 2263, Mars Dome One, Sol

  Motioning Shaw to a seat opposite her, Luchenko sat down, her attention focussed on the Ranger. Shaw felt the weight of a dozen stares but, having come this far, pushed it out of his mind. He beckoned Tilanna to join him as he sat down and began to relate what they found.

  ‘Madam President, we have documented everything, and I assure you it will stand up to scrutiny,’ Shaw said. ‘But we have very little time, so I must ask you to trust me.’

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Admiral Keynes back slowly away from the group and turn to leave the hub. He waited until she left before starting again. ‘But first, please give me your assurances that Admiral Keynes will not be permitted to leave this centre.’

  ‘You want me to take her into custody?’ asked Luchenko with amazement.

  ‘Not until you hear what I have to say. What happens then is in your jurisdiction.’

  ‘I’ll see to it,’ said Lefcourt, tapping instructions into a datapad that would see the admiral detained.

  ‘I am not sure I like where this is heading, Ranger,’ said Luchenko.

  ‘Madam President, we uncovered a report from Babylon 5 that had been classified --by Admiral Keynes, using her newly gained authorisation as a Joint Chief following the destruction of the Intrepide--sorry, the White Star we left EarthDome in.’ Shaw noticed the eyebrows of Lefcourt rise, though whether that was in surprise or disbelief, he could not tell.

  ‘That report showed the Dilgar device had been through Babylon 5 on its way to the Centauri Republic.’

  ‘It is common sense to think the weapon started outside of the Republic,’ said Luchenko. ‘And Babylon 5 is the perfect place to make such a trade.’

  ‘True. However, from this report, we were able to track the fence who handled the sale of the device, a Mr. Shiritori. He bought it from an Earth prospector and then sold it on to the Centauri. However, it was not a sale to the Republic or the Centaurum but a single House. He confirmed that he flew the device himself straight to Coutor, a possession of House Kaado, where it was modified into the weapon that destroyed EarthDome.’

  Luchenko and the officers surrounding them regarded Shaw impassively, and he worried that, in the light of day, his evidence did not seem so convincing after all.

  ‘Madam President, we have the data files, we have a full confession from Shiritori--in fact, we still have Shiritori, as I arranged for him to be detained by law officials in Mars Dome Two. If you look into this further, you can locate his ship and check its flight logs, perhaps instigate a joint investigation with the Centauri into House Kaado.’

  ‘And what if you are wrong?’ asked Lefcourt.

  ‘Then President Sheridan has instructed me to tell you that, so long as you withdraw your forces from Republic space for the duration of an investigation, he will back any play you make against the Centauri, with the full support of the ISA.’

  Luchenko considered this, giving Shaw the chance to push a little further and remind the President of trouble in her own house.

  ‘What I have not been able to determine is why Keynes would be involved in covering this evidence, the one report that could possibly point the blame away from the Republic,’ he said.

  He noticed General Lefcourt and Luchenko exchange looks.

  ‘Keynes was always a proponent of war with the Centauri, ever since this started,’ she said eventually.

  ‘I was just thinking that,’ said Lefcourt. ‘She has some questions to answer, that is for sure. I hesitate to say it, but this would not be the first time a high-ranking officer has pushed a military solution for their own ends.’

  ‘But why?’ asked Shaw.

  ‘The budget for EarthForce has been slashed since the civil war,’ said Lefcourt. ‘The Earth Alliance has other needs right now that must take precedence. Simply put, we cannot take part in another war so soon without seriously impacting on the lives of our citizens across all colonies. But an enforced peacetime of this nature rarely results in a healthy career for an officer used to war.’

  ‘If I have been played. . .’ Luchenko said angrily, then thought better of finishing the thought. ‘Get me Admiral Ward. We must put an end to this now.’

  July 9th 2263, Mars Dome One, Sol

  All but collapsing in a plastic seat he had dragged from his booth, Shaw watched the machine of the Earth Alliance swing into action, this time to halt a war rather than initiate one. He listened as Luchenko spoke with the admiral leading the fleet at Beta III, ordering him to withdraw his forces immediately and return to Earth space. The admiral was just as relieved as anyone else, which did not surprise Shaw once he heard what the Centauri had deployed against him.

  Over the course of the next few hours, he watched as the Earth Alliance, working in concert with the Centauri Republic, began a staggered but measured stand down and demobilisation across their borders. Earth fleets already within Republic space were permitted to leave without prejudice while the Centauri, for their part, mirrored those movements by returning their warships to bases deeper within the Republic, leaving only standard patrols in their place. The Centauri even admitted to the existence of more fleets poised to strike Earth Alliance colonies and then dutifully disbanded them, perhaps to warn President Luchenko and all other ISA governments watching the proceedings what it truly meant to make war on the Republic. Strike at us and we will obliterate you.

  Perhaps that was fair enough, thought Shaw wearily. One very brief exchange between Luchenko and the Centauri Emperor forged an agreement to postpone any hostilities until further investigations could be conducted on both sides of the border. That had sounded ominous enough, but everyone listening knew that, for all intents and purposes, diplomacy would now take over where force of arms had proved, in the very least, an unwise course of action.

  Emperor Mollari promised dire consequences for the noble House that propelled recent events, and speculation already started in the hub as to the exact form of punishment. Most bets were on something fairly medieval, as the Centauri needed to demonstrate to the galaxy as a whole they were not behind the attacks on Earth, and their society had a long tradition of very cruel punishments when laws were transgressed to this extent. To act without the authority of the Emperor was treason, and few races who took that lightly. In a monarchy, there was literally nothing worse.

  Earth appeared to have its own complicity in the matter, of course, but Shaw believed nothing more than one overzealous officer in a position she should never have been promoted to was the culprit

  President Luchenko crossed the hub and sat down opposite him, forcing Shaw to take a deep breath and keep his eyes focussed on her.

  ‘Mr. Shaw,’ she said. ‘We owe you and your Minbari friend a great deal. If you had not worked so hard to uncover the vital information we were missing, we would now be at war with the Centauri. You have the grateful thanks of a President.’

  Shaw straightened his weary slouch. ‘Madam President, I am just glad we could be of service. What has happened to Keynes?’

  ‘She is being questioned now,’ said Luchenko. ‘We’ll get to the bottom of it soon enough. The important thing then, of course, is to make sure it can never happen again.’

  ‘The Rangers will always be on hand to help you.’

  ‘I know that, Mr. Shaw. Now, is there anything we can do for you?’

  ‘Thank you, Madam President but, frankly, I just want to get some sleep,’ he said candidly.

  Luchenko smiled. ‘Mr. Shaw, I know exactly how you feel.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  July 11th 2263, House Kaado, Centauri Prime

  The alarm dutifully chimed its alert over and over, a soft, mellow tone that hinted at a dignified urgency. Veneta spent some time selecting precisely the right pitch, just as he carefully selected the carpets, fittings and electronics that bedec
ked his luxurious bunker. Expecting to entertain many visitors here over the next few months, Veneta understood the importance of taste as the novelty of his construction swept through the noble houses, each guest slowly contributing to his rising star in however small a manner. All a matter of appearances, you see.

  At this moment in time, however, the chime resounded with a dull repetition inside his head, which he was already nursing. Surely not too much Brivari. He was more disciplined than that.

  ‘Off,’ he mumbled, his consciousness rising back to sentience. Surely whatever his servants wanted could wait. Didn’t they know who was in charge?

  The alarm continued to sound, and Veneta realized that having his face mashed into the plush carpet could, feasibly, disrupt the sound waves from his mouth to the alarm’s receiver. A gargantuan effort enabled him to roll onto his back, an action causing his feet to drop to the floor from the sofa they had been propped upon. Somehow he had fallen from his perch and not woken during the descent. Hardly dignified.

  ‘Off!’

  This time the alarm was silenced, and Veneta allowed himself a few brief moments of calm as he lay on his back, trying to summon the energy to open his eyes. He recalled Territt leaving at some point during the previous night’s revelries to attend to some business he had not deigned to discuss. Then . . . he was damned if he could remember.

  Taking a deep breath, Veneta rolled to his side and then propped himself up with an elbow, head hanging low as his senses spun briefly before settling. He chanced opening his eyes, squinting around through the subdued lighting of his bunker. Everything seemed pretty much in place, and he heaved himself onto the settee, sprawling into its comfort. For the next twenty minutes, Veneta did nothing more than lay there, his head tilted back, open mouth drawing air noisily. For him, time ceased to have any real meaning during his daze. Slowly, Veneta began to return to the land of the living, the synapses of his brain gradually firing in unison as conscious and reasoned thought crept into his mind. What was wrong with him, he dimly wondered? If he did not know better, he would have said this was the after-effect of some drug. Or poison.