There was no set time for a maulball match: the game would run until only one player could physically go on, at which point the competition would be deemed ended.
He waited.
Eventually, the winner was decided. While the team out of Cebris City had a player who stood unopposed, it was the Veralla City team whose player had accrued the most points when time was called.
The Cebris survivor yelled at the referee with colour and vigour, claiming that Veralla had put himself out of the running at that particular moment only so that the points she was gaining in the scoring zone would be discounted. The referee shook his head slowly, ignoring her curses and her protest.
The crowd disagreed noisily with the verdict. Cebris stormed from the arena, shoving a ground marshal out of her way. Someone was making a futile effort to help the victor to his one good foot, even as food, cups and programmes began to rain down into the arena.
It could hardly have been more perfect.
On the tiers, the restless crowds were beginning to move. Different groups formed, shifted, and broke apart again. People milled about, filling the corridors and stairwells. Angry shouts came from some, disappointed murmurs from others. Castigon watched the motion of the crowd carefully as he waited near the short access ramp which led directly to the private box.
Presently, as he had expected, the door clicked. It began to open. Quickly, in one deft movement, he unclipped a chunky metal disc from somewhere inside his jacket, pressed down a stud in the centre of the lid, and slid it across the floor. It skittered across the threshold, and through the widening doorway of the box.
“What the— down!”
The shout had been a female’s voice, and he guessed it was the counterpart.
There was a powdery thud, and thick brown smoke began to pour from the open doorway.
Castigon drew his pistol, made sure the dampener was engaged, and advanced. Figures stumbled from the smoky room, blinded, coughing, and spitting up mucus, but he ignored them all. He was only looking for one person in particular, and these others were no threat.
The Shard collapsed out of the doorway, half-carried by his counterpart, and retched as he fell towards the floor. Tears streamed down his face, cutting streaks through the dirty residue from the smoke grenade.
Castigon abbreviated the Shard’s misery with a couple of very quiet bullets, and cracked the counterpart around the back of the head. No need to give her the opportunity to come after him.
He re-holstered his weapon, turned from the scene, and walked casually back down the ramp. Within seconds the heaving crowd had absorbed him, and Maber Castigon was carried away by the tide, blending into the liquid mass of faces.
• • •
“Welcome to Central Operations,” said Branathes. “Let me show you to your stations.”
“Impressive.” Brant whistled.
“Very impressive,” Tirrano agreed.
“I’m glad you approve,” Branathes said. “Because we could be here until this is all done with.”
Brant took a moment to look around carefully, taking in as much of the busy compartment as he could. The overhead had been removed from the two decks above the one they were on, so the circular space was three stories tall. It was dominated by a central holographic map which displayed a representation of the entire Perseus arm. As Brant watched, operators standing in front of it zoomed the whole map in to a single star system, then farther still, isolating an Imperial task force.
“Is that real-time?”
“That particular bit, yes,” Branathes glanced up at the displayed ships. “Unfortunately not all of it is though. Our listening posts aren’t close enough to provide that kind of telemetry on the inner Viskr systems, and we haven’t cracked their comms network yet. Much of our information is coming from logs, conventional reports, databursts when we can get them, and good old gate echoes. We have to compile and confirm everything.”
“Shame.” Brant continued to look around. Holos lined the walls, and people were moving between them with swift purpose. He wondered if his assigned fate involved learning how to do whatever it was they were doing.
“Peras,” Branathes said. “You’ll take over from me. Casualty recording and projection. I’m not saying it’s too menial for me, because it’s important work. It’s just that it frees me up for work which is even more important.”
“Of course,” she said. “Which station?”
“Right there.” Branathes pointed to the holo behind her. “You’ll be passed the data on ships and facilities which are missing or downed as it comes in. You’re already familiar with the List, so you just need to tabulate what’s given to you.”
“Yep, definitely not menial at all.”
“If things really heat up — which they probably will — you’ll be projecting our losses too. That function will be crucial.”
Peras did not look convinced, but Branathes continued on his way without trying to persuade her any further.
“Occre, I have something different for you to sink your teeth into.”
“Wait a second,” Tirrano said.
“What is it?” Branathes walked back to her, and Brant followed.
“This shows all the known survivors from Kosling,” Tirrano said. “Someone must have updated it while you were fetching us. Look, right here: Doctor Vella Laekan. She was logged fifteen minutes ago.”
“Where is she?” Brant asked.
“Medical, surprisingly enough.” There was a note of mockery in Tirrano’s voice, which evaporated as she continued to read. “Oh… it goes on to say she’s in a critical condition. They’ve had to induce coma.”
“Shit,” Brant said quietly.
“Probably for the best,” Branathes offered.
They both turned to look at him.
“I mean, obviously that’s been done for a reason, yes? To give her the best chance of survival?”
“Guess so.” Tirrano said.
“I sure hope she pulls through.” Brant added.
“Of course you do. We all do. I’m sure she’ll be fine; Fort Laeara has some of the best surgeons available. Anyway Occre, come with me. I’ll show you to your station.”
As his supervisor led him away, Brant did something he had never, ever thought he would do. He craned his neck over his shoulder, locked eyes with Tirrano, and mouthed a message to her.
‘We need to talk.’
— 03 —
Disputer
It was in her voice. It was in her posture. It was in her gestures, her gaze, and the slight curl of her thin lips. Everything about Captain Helia Thande gave the impression that she had just presided over one execution, and was impatient to get a move on with the next.
Caden could almost feel the hostility radiating from her, particularly in Santani’s direction, and he wondered exactly what it was that had provoked such a strong reaction.
“When a ship goes down in a time of war, it traditionally does so during combat with the enemy. How exactly did this happen?”
Caden flicked his eyes across to Santani, and saw her fidget. She had one hand under the table, presumably in her lap or on her leg, and with the other she tapped the polished black surface without rhythm. She stared, but didn’t see.
“Captain…?”
Santani looked up from beneath her fringe. “We were in combat.”
“The fight is taking place on the Perseus arm,” Thande said. “Woe Tantalum is not a defence priority. It literally could not rank lower.”
Santani looked towards Caden.
“Captain Thande,” he said, “Hammer was operating under my instructions, at the behest of the Throne. I don’t think it’s fair to—”
“I’ll ask for your contribution when I am ready for it.”
Caden stopped dead, his mouth hanging open for a second. Thande’s voice was cold, measured, and steady. Few people who knew what a Shard was, and what a Shard did, ever spoke to him as she did now.
“Santani,” she co
ntinued. “Explain to me why you saw fit to ground a battleship, killing almost half your crew.”
“You’re not my senior. Why should I explain it to you, when Command will be debriefing me anyway?”
“I have to file a report of my own, you know. I will have to justify my decision to bring an entire battle group out here, while a major military operation was being conducted elsewhere. I’d like to be able to corroborate the reasons why I thought that decision was correct.”
Caden imagined he felt the air thaw slightly. In truth, he thought, it would be difficult to argue that Helia Thande had not helped them out a great deal. Certainly many of the surviving crew from Hammer owed their very lives to her.
“Woe Tantalum was a staging area,” Santani said. “There’s some kind of new alliance forming between Viskr, humans, and we think a third party. They were making preparations for a large scale attack.”
“If you were trying to use the Hammer as a weapon, you missed entirely.”
“No, that’s not what happened at all.”
“Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”
“Fine,” Santani said. “I was tasked with assisting Shard Caden in the recovery of stolen weapons. The trail led to Woe Tantalum. When we arrived, we were faced with a mixed fleet of Imperial and Viskr ships; all of them hostile. The quarantine network was compromised, and there was traffic moving between the ships and the surface.
“Caden and his team went to the surface, while Hammer engaged the hostile ships to keep them busy. I don’t know who was commanding them, but they were a pushover. We almost had the upper hand when another ship arrived.
“That thing was huge. I’ve never seen anything like it; it was armed and armoured like a dreadnought, only… only it was massive. I can’t even make you understand the scale just with words. We didn’t stand a chance fighting it, and we couldn’t abandon the people on the surface, so we tried to hide in the atmosphere.
“Unfortunately it followed us in, and we weren’t as well hidden as we thought we would be. The only way we could fight back was to order the quarantine network to come back online. That’s what shot us down, and you know the rest after that.” There was a slight catch in her voice. “As for the dread… ship, I presume either it was destroyed or it fled.”
Thande had been staring at Santani throughout her account, and her face gave no hint of her impressions. She continued to stare for a few silent, uncomfortable moments, then turned her head towards Caden.
“Did you see this ‘massive’ enemy ship, Shard Caden?”
“No,” he said. “I was on the surface at the time. We were a little occupied.”
“You didn’t see it in the atmosphere?”
“I did not.”
“It was in the high atmosphere when it engaged us,” Santani offered. “It wouldn’t have been visible from the ground.”
“It would have been if the platforms shot it down. If it was as big as you said.”
“I… suppose it would have.”
“No such vessel was detected fleeing the system when Disputer arrived to bail you out, Captain Santani. There was a handful of Viskr and Imperial ships, as you described, which fled together into the Deep Shadows. But no sign of your ‘dread ship’.”
“Our sensors were recording constantly.”
“The same sensors which feed into storage modules that currently lie smashed across the surface of a planet? Those sensors?”
Santani remained silent.
“You had best prepare a list of your dead, Captain. I think we can safely say that there will be an inquiry.”
Caden looked across to Santani while Thande flipped their preliminary reports across her holo. Their eyes met briefly.
“Shard Caden,” Thande said, thumbing off the holo. “What can you tell me about events on the surface?”
“We took fire from the ground on the way down, as you know. Unfortunately we lost Captain Pinsetti and one of his MAGA platoons. When we got to the surface I had two of the remaining platoons take out the surface-to-air turrets, and the last platoon went with me.
“There was resistance from a mix of humans and Viskr, accompanied by a few skulkers. I’d call it light resistance though — we had much the same experience that Captain Santani had with the ships. They seemed incompetent.
“Eventually we located their base, for want of a better word, and that’s where I found the missing assets. Well, some of them.”
Thande waited until she was sure he had finished. “That might even be a less impressive story.”
“I didn’t realise we were in competition.”
“Oh you aren’t. But I expected something more… significant-sounding, seeing as it cost us a battleship and a great many lives.”
“I’m not going into any more detail. With respect, Captain, I don’t know you. I don’t know what level of clearance you’ve got with respect to my mission. The fact that nobody has mentioned it suggests you have no clearance at all. So sorry, but I won’t be sharing anything more with you until I’ve conferred with Eyes and Ears.”
Caden kept his gaze level with Thande’s, and he was peripherally aware that Santani was watching them both intently.
“Very well,” Thande said. “I certainly wouldn’t want you to compromise security on my account.”
“Good,” said Caden. “Now you’ll have to forgive me, but it’s been a really long day. I’m tired, I’ve been shot at quite a lot, and to be blunt I would very much like to end this meeting. I urgently need to speak to Command before I retire. I trust you’ll be extending the usual courtesies?”
“Of course. Quarters have been prepared. Captain Santani, Commander Yuellen will show you to yours now. I’d like to speak to Shard Caden on his own for a moment.”
Santani rose slowly to her feet, gave Caden the slightest of nods, and walked towards the doors of the wardroom with her head held high. Caden was not surprised to see that she failed to pay any respect to her fellow captain.
“One thing.” Santani turned back to look at Thande. “How did you disable the quarantine network? I ordered my XO to have the access codes scrambled.”
“Commanding officers from three different ships can order the network to shut down, even without the codes. As long as they can also supply a handshake signal from Fleet.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“You would have known had you bothered to complete the latest training package, Captain. It went out to all COs several months ago.”
Santani’s eyes narrowed. “I see. I’ll leave you both to it then.”
When the doors closed behind her, Thande appeared to relax. But only in the most marginal way that Caden could detect.
“What’s your view of this ‘dread ship’ she’s blaming for driving Hammer into Woe Tantalum’s atmosphere?”
“I wasn’t there,” said Caden, “but I have no reason to think Captain Santani would exaggerate something like that. I’m fairly certain her bridge officers will confirm what she said.”
“Won’t they just.” Thande’s tone told Caden she would mistrust those assurances just as certainly as she expected them.
“They didn’t strike me as liars.”
Thande regarded him with that still, inexpressive gaze of hers, a gaze which betrayed nothing.
“I was instructed to inform you that Operation Seawall has essentially failed,” she said. “The Viskr armada is larger than we thought, and not so disorganised.”
“I’d heard something along those lines. What’s the damage?”
“Hard to say. We still have fleets engaged all along their border, and Command are scrambling to reinforce our lines without compromising planetary defence forces. Viskr counter-offensives are now threatening some of our Perseus arm colonies.”
“Brilliant,” said Caden.
“I am given to understand it was Eyes and Ears who advised Fleet Command on the need to strike first,” Thande said. “I am also given to understand that they did this based
on information you yourself gave them.”
“In a way. If you’re suggesting that Operation Seawall is my fault, I reject that entirely.”
“I wasn’t, actually. Commander Operations can make his own decisions, and if anyone is going to take heat for this débâcle it will probably be Admiral Betombe. I just think you might want to keep your head down for a while.”
“Noted. What do you know about this situation at Fort Kosling?”
“Well… that woman they’re calling the ‘Rasa’? Apparently she escaped, although from what I hear she wasn’t even under guard, which I have to say is bizarre to me. She stole a ship from dry-dock and used its weaponry to slag the station from the inside.”
“Survivors?”
“Almost everyone. Core systems were very heavily damaged, but virtually all of the emergency shelters were launched. Recovery was already underway when we jumped here.”
“Good,” said Caden. He found himself thinking about Occre Brant. Him, and even Tirrano.
“That one was basically down to you.”
“I think I might have to take that bullet, yes. Although to be fair I wasn’t the one looking after Naeb.”
“Which brings us to the next topic: those prisoners you brought aboard.”
“I thought you might mention that.”
“I’m not really very impressed that you undermined my XO.”
Caden could not help but smile slightly. “He said you wouldn’t have the prisoners in your brig. They aren’t in your brig; they’re in mine.”
“While I am fairly impressed at your counterpart’s imaginative use for a lander’s hull, I think you might have asked me before using Life and Rescue’s recovery haulers to lift it aboard my ship.”
Caden opened his mouth to reply, but she continued. “And I don’t think those prisoners are any more secure in that thing than they would be in proper custody facilities.”
Books One to Three Omnibus (Armada Wars) Page 30