Books One to Three Omnibus (Armada Wars)

by R. Curtis Venture

Fuck you, he thought.

  “You can go in now, Admiral Betombe.”

  Betombe looked up, saw the admin assistant waving magnanimously at the open doorway of the chamber.

  The admiral got to his feet, smoothed down his trousers, and went in.

  “Ah, Admiral Betombe. Good.”

  Fleet Admiral Bel-Messari did not bother to rise from his seat. Instead he leaned on his elbow, and gestured casually to the officers on each side of him.

  “Admiral Kalabi, Admiral Hong.”

  Kalabi eh? Betombe found himself wondering if Aker Santani had had anything to do with that. Probably not; captains simply did not have that much influence.

  “Do take a seat, Admiral Betombe,” said Admiral Hong.

  “If nobody minds, I’d like to get this underway and done with as quickly as possible,” Bel-Messari announced. He spoke to the others as if Betombe were not even there. “I have a strategic briefing to present in an hour.”

  Betombe had wondered why the room had been set up with quite so many holos. He glanced around at the system maps, fleet groupings, and assorted charts which played across the various screens.

  No more than an hour, he thought. That’s how quickly he thinks he can flush my life down the drain. Good luck with that.

  “This hearing,” said Bel-Messari, “is intended to resolve the matter of the Disciplinary Branch versus Admiral Groath Betombe — present — and determine a final outcome for the case as stated.”

  Kalabi and Hong already look bored, Betombe thought.

  “Admiral Betombe, where is your representative?”

  Betombe smiled at Bel-Messari. “I will represent myself.”

  “As is your right. Very well, then—”

  “Are those holos up-to-date?”

  Bel-Messari stared at him for a moment, as if not quite able to believe the irrelevant interruption.

  “Yes, of course. I’m hardly likely to brief anyone with old data, am I? As I was saying—”

  “So you are briefing them, I suppose, on the imminent attack?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Betombe pointed at the holos, one after the other.

  “The attack. The enemy attack which all of these movements have been clearly leading up to.”

  “What—”

  Admiral Hong was now the one to speak over Bel-Messari. “What exactly do you mean by that, Betombe?”

  “If I am reading these correctly — and let’s face it; I am — then we have lost our control of all of the planets and systems on the red displays, yes? Ophriam, Becchari, Naruth, Meccrace of course, Ankhar’s star…”

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Kalabi.

  “And all of these strikes, so far as we can tell, were made from within the Deep Shadows.”

  “Yes, that’s our best guess.”

  “And you don’t see any particular pattern to them?”

  “Should we?”

  “Well I suppose you wouldn’t, listing them in this form.”

  “Admirals, please,” said Bel-Messari. “Can we get back on track? This is obviously just a distraction.”

  “Distraction or not,” said Kalabi, “this sounds like something we might want to indulge.”

  Betombe smiled. “Can you bring up those systems, as they appear on the Imperial map?”

  Hong tapped at the holo in front of him, and the local arms of the galaxy appeared. He identified the systems which Bel-Messari had in his list, and marked them off on the map.

  “See?”

  “What are we looking for?” Bel-Messari asked.

  “Oh my worlds,” said Hong.

  “I think… I think we’re being outmanoeuvred already,” Kalabi said.

  Betombe nodded slowly. “They’re going to make a play for the Herses system. They want Ramm Stallahad. They will have a beachhead right in the middle of our territory.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” Bel-Messari scoffed. “That’s one of our most heavily-defended systems.”

  “Look at the evidence,” said Kalabi. “They’ve been potting all the systems which form links in the gate chain. They only have to take a few more, and any jumps we make to Herses will be wildly inaccurate. If they wanted to hold that system, they would have a massive advantage.”

  “We need to reinforce that system now,” Hong added.

  “Admirals, really.” Bel-Messari lowered his voice, as if that meant Betombe would no longer be able to hear him. “I can’t believe you are both falling for this nonsense.”

  “It really doesn’t look like nonsense,” said Hong.

  “Very well; I will humour you. So the Shaeld want to take Ramm Stallahad. What do they want with it?”

  “Take your pick,” said Kalabi. “It’s a key system in virtually all of our strategic defence plans, it supports the Hepira shipyards, it has the third largest xtryllium refinery in the empire—”

  “That might actually be it,” Hong said. “The xtryllium problem.”

  “What xtryllium problem?” Betombe asked.

  Although he had not intended them as a distraction, as Bel-Messari claimed, Betombe had been amused by the disharmony which his observations had caused. Until now he was simply enjoying watching them argue, counting off each and every one of Bel-Messari’s precious minutes while they did so, but… the xtryllium problem? This was news to him.

  “What xtryllium problem?” He asked again.

  “Every system the Shaeld have hit,” said Hong, “whether they occupied it or not, they took all the gates.”

  “And cleared out our refineries,” Kalabi added.

  “There’s also some evidence that they’re returning to scavenge components from the stolen fleets we destroy,” said Hong.

  “For the xtryllium?”

  “Yes. We don’t know why, but they’re desperate for it.”

  Betombe frowned. Any race which needed to use xtryllium for its wormhole generators would almost certainly have developed their own means for producing it, otherwise they would not have gone down that line of technological development.

  But then it was very difficult to manufacture; perhaps Shaeld Hrathan needs outstripped their production capabilities. Or maybe it was simpler than that — maybe they just wanted to cripple the Imperial Combine.

  “We do have significant stockpiles, I believe,” said Betombe.

  “Yes, but they will be down by one eighth if the enemy takes Ramm Stallahad.”

  “ADMIRALS!” Bel-Messari shouted. “This can wait until the briefing. It is not why we are here.”

  “May I say something?” Betombe asked, in his most deferential voice.

  “Why ever not,” said Bel-Messari. “It’s not like these matters usually have any kind of structure to them.”

  Betombe smiled inwardly at his opponent’s exasperated tone. Bel-Messari was wrong-footed, flustered, and he was no longer finding it easy to marshal his thoughts.

  “We all know exactly why we are here, Admiral. You are having a private little witch hunt, and you think the best place for me is not out there winning this war for the Imperial Combine, but steeping in my own penury on Low Cerin.”

  “How dare you,” Bel-Messari fumed. “This inquiry is entirely warranted. You launched an unprovoked, unauthorised attack—”

  “Unprovoked?” Kalabi said, simply.

  Bel-Messari sputtered, thrown again by yet another interruption.

  Kalabi continued. “I was given to understand that the vessel at Blacktree was a Shaeld dreadship. Even if it was not attacking the colony, as Admiral Betombe has asserted in his report, it clearly would have done.”

  “He couldn’t have known that at the time.” Bel-Messari spat the words out, thumping one of his clenched fists on the desk.

  “Well quite,” said Hong. “But then he acted correctly regardless. Had he not attacked the dreadship he would likely have had to watch Blacktree burn.”

  “It did burn,” said Bel-Messari. “Part of it.”

  “With the greatest respect
, Fleet Admiral,” said Kalabi, “I’m beginning to think you would have had him in here either way.”

  “I have to be honest, Sir,” said Hong. “Your dissatisfaction with Admiral Betombe’s role in the Perseus conflict is hardly a secret.”

  “This is insubordination of the most unbelievable kind…”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Kalabi. “It’s just us being frank.”

  “You are junior admirals,” said Bel-Messari, “and you will fall back in line right now.”

  “Not in here, Bel-Messari,” said Kalabi.

  “What?”

  “In here, in this hearing, we hold the same rank. Imperial Navy Charter, Jurisprudence Code, Article Four.”

  “You actually have the nerve to quote the regs at me?”

  Kalabi smiled her lovely smile.

  “I do, Sir, yes. Feel free to try and reprimand me for it; I think you’ll find you have a fight on your hands. But if you’d prefer — and I have to say that I greatly favour this option — we can consider the matter of Admiral Betombe settled, and wait for the briefing in complete silence. With him present, of course.”

  Betombe beamed.

  • • •

  Caden found Eilentes in the galley, sitting on her own.

  “You okay?” He asked.

  “Fine, just…” she toyed with her food, moving it around with a fork.

  “…’Just’? That’s not actually a thing in its own right.”

  “Feior’s dumb advances got me thinking, is all. About Ren.” She looked up at him. “Caden, how am I ever going to trust anyone else?”

  Caden began to wish he had gone somewhere else.

  “I don’t think you should dwell on it too much, you know? Realistically, you can’t predict everything everyone is ever going to do. And even if you could, that’s not what life is all about. That would get dull really quickly.”

  “I guess. But I should at least be able to trust the people I spend the most time with. Intimately, I mean.”

  “What happened with Ren… it’s not like he was in his right frame of mind. If he had been, he would never have done what he did.”

  Eilentes gave him the sideways stare of incredulity.

  “Don’t make excuses for him. Like I said when you tried to make us both ‘sort it out’, it was his own fault he was off his tits — he made that choice — so he’s responsible for everything he did.”

  “Yes, okay. I wasn’t trying to make out like he did nothing wrong.”

  “I know, sorry. I’m just a bit worn out thinking about it all.”

  “So… do you trust me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good. Let’s imagine that we were in a relationship. Would you still trust me then? Trust me not to do anything… anything like that?”

  “Probably, yeah.”

  “Okay. Well then try this for a question: why? What’s the difference?”

  “I have no idea,” she said.

  “Something to think about, I suppose. You have plenty of time before we reach the Shalleon system.”

  Eilentes seemed at least slightly encouraged, and began to shovel food into her mouth.

  “So,” she said between mouthfuls. “What about you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How come you aren’t seeing anyone?”

  “Does it matter? There’s a war on. I’m kind of busy at the moment.”

  “We’re all busy, Caden. What about Brant? Throam reckoned he was head-over-heels for you.”

  “He told you that, huh?” If Throam really had noticed any of Brant’s unapologetically transparent flirting, and Eilentes was not just making it up, he had never mentioned it. Off the top of his head, Caden could not even think when the big lug might have witnessed it. “I think Brant has his hands full with that Tirrano woman.”

  “I really don’t think she’s his type.”

  “She doesn’t appear to share that view.”

  Eilentes chewed thoughtfully on whatever it was that was shaped and textured to resemble meat.

  “Bruiser seems inexplicably fond of you.”

  “Seriously Euryce? He’d split me in half.”

  “Hmm, good point. Well what about Thande? She warmed up to you pretty quickly too.”

  “You’re just being silly now. She’s old enough to be my grandmother.”

  Euryce leaned in closer, and whispered. “Maybe she is your grandmother. Don’t go near her!”

  “Okay. You’ve had your fun. I don’t need to be matched with anyone, you know? Especially not giant male lizards, thanks so much for that one.”

  “Racist.”

  “It’s not racist, dickhead. It’s anatomy. Split. In. Half.”

  “Sexist.”

  “I don’t have anything against other guys!”

  “I will find just the right person.”

  “Thanks Eilentes, but I’m fine with things as they are for now. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is; the war, enemy agents, the never-ending parade of idiots we have to deal with, and now Dyne.”

  “Yeah, what are you going to do about him?”

  “I’m starting to think I’m just going to jettison him at the first opportunity.”

  “And replace him with…?”

  “Bruiser would be the obvious choice.”

  Eilentes smirked around a mouthful of vegetables, tried to say something without spitting food everywhere, and gave up. Instead, she made the universal sign for poking with her fingers.

  “Oh behave. He’s just got the right attributes for a counterpart.”

  She swallowed, became serious. “He’s not been to the Academy.”

  “No, he hasn’t. And yet he’s still a million times better at it than Dyne.”

  “But Dyne has orders. From the Throne.”

  “True. That’s the awkward part.”

  Caden was still uncertain, but he had been developing a sneaking suspicion that Dyne had been forced on him very deliberately by the Empress. The counterpart was far too unmanageable to provide any measurable advantage to a Shard, particularly during such a crisis as this. He felt the touch of Her Majesty’s mischievous manoeuvring on the whole situation.

  “Let me guess: you’ll think of something.”

  “I have a good notion of how to sort things out,” said Caden.

  “You really don’t like him, do you?”

  “Well no, but that’s not really anything to do with it. The fact is that he’s incompetent.”

  “You stopped feeling that way towards Volkas eventually.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “But you sent him back to the ship with his nephew. Don’t tell me that wasn’t an act of compassion. You got them both out of harm’s way.”

  “I got him out of my way,” said Caden.

  Eilentes’ face dropped. “For a while there you had me thinking you have emotions.”

  “I know you’re not really being serious with that, but I do have emotions and they work fine. I just don’t base important decisions on them. Volkas has so far been nothing but an impediment. He doesn’t make things that much more difficult, true, but he does tend to slow everything down.”

  “I’ve seen him,” she said. “He does try.”

  “I know, but it won’t ever make any difference. This is my job, Eilentes. I know how people work. I can’t waste time explaining to guys like him why I want them to do exactly what I just asked them to do. I need him to just do it. Volkas can’t get that through his thick skull, and he never will.”

  “If it were me, I’d just explain that to him. Exactly that.”

  “By all means, go and try. He’ll argue the toss.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “And yet I do.”

  “You can be really smug sometimes.”

  “It’s a gift,” he said. “Anyway… I need to go call Brant. And before you say anything, it’s going to be strictly business.”

  “Send him my love,” said Eilentes. She pursed
her lips and made smooching sounds.

  “Do it yourself,” said Caden. “He’d be perfect for you.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m so sure he’d be all over that.”

  Caden rolled his eyes and left her to finish her meal.

  Back in his quarters, he used the guest holo to request a connection to Fort Laeara. It was some time before the call was routed to Brant.

  “Caden…”

  “Brant, what’s up? Just wanted to give you the latest updates—”

  “We’re under lockdown.”

  “Lockdown? What’s going on?”

  “Funny story… you know that guy you asked me to look for?”

  “Who…” Caden searched his memory. “Herik Pammon?”

  “The very same. Well, he dropped by earlier. Guess who he brought with him?” Brant did not wait for Caden to answer. “Amarist Naeb.”

  “Is everyone okay? What did they do?”

  “Oh we’re fine, we have them in custody. But I remembered what you said in your report about Voice. How he claimed he never goes anywhere unaccompanied? So we’re under lockdown, just on the off chance they brought Shaeld Hratha aboard with them.”

  “One of them is Voice? Brant, are you sure?”

  “Not one of them,” said Brant. “Both of them.”

  “Both?”

  “I had them isolated from each other. No communication, no line of sight, no tech. They were both having the same conversation with me, independently of each other.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They wanted Doctor Bel-Ures, and they gave us a day to produce her.”

  “A day before… what?”

  “The implication was that they would destroy the fortress.”

  “I take it Command is aware?”

  “Yeah, don’t worry about that. We had a couple of battle groups here already, and the Atwood just arrived with the Vonnegut. Their task forces are both pretty formidable.”

  “Doctor Bel-Ures,” Caden said. “Did they indicate why they wanted her?”

  “No. We’re working on the assumption that they need her expertise with the warheads they stole.”

  “Sounds like a reasonable conclusion. What’s being done?”

  “Eyes and Ears is in the middle of organising an emergency session. All the invigilators who are able to participate will be coming up with a plan of action.”

  “There’s not much time for that.”