The Emperor's Conspiracy

by William Zellmann

  He blanched. “That’s more than eight thousand people!”

  I shrugged. “I couldn’t take chances with a dreadnought.”

  He sighed. “I know, Admiral. But it’s still a tragedy. All because of one man’s greed.” He straightened. “Well, Admiral, I’d ask you aboard my ship while we proceed to Thaeron, but my ship, such as it is, lacks a few amenities like engines.”

  I chuckled. “Captain, I’d be honored to offer you a ride on my flagship, such as it is!”

  We secured from battle stations. The boats returned, and we buttoned up and headed for the planet.

  Captain Chard Danought was excellent company. Urbane and witty, he captivated everyone he met. There was more to him than a sense of humor, however. His chest held an impressive display of ribbons. I recognized most of them, and they weren’t for good attendance.

  We had almost reached planetary orbit when he received an urgent message from his headquarters. He took it in my cabin. When he emerged, his normally cheerful face was grim.

  “We have a small problem, Admiral,” he began. “You may get your battle after all.”

  Uh oh. “What is it, Captain?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, perhaps we’d better go to your cabin, sir,” he replied. Captain Danought was back on duty.

  In my cabin he continued. “It’s one of the moon forts. Admiral Jonas pretty much stripped the system to get his fleet underway. I was left with responsibility for the defense of the system, but without much in the way of real firepower or battle-ready personnel.

  “I had the cruiser hulk towed to the jump point, and I retained command. But I had trouble finding sufficient officers to man the defenses. I drafted nearly every officer I could find.”

  He sighed. “Evidently, I wasn’t selective enough. The Lieutenant Commander that I assigned to one of the fortress moons turns out to be a Jonas loyalist. He’s seized control of the moon and its weaponry.”

  “What’s he got?” I asked tightly. A lot of lives could be lost attacking a fortified moon. And if he controlled armed satellites, we could be in danger even now.

  Chard grimaced. “Heavy lasers, for a start. He could hit and hurt any ship on his side of planetary orbit. Then, he has particle beam weapons, mass drivers, and missiles.” He sighed again. “Sheol! He could damage the base on the planet itself. He could do a lot of damage.”

  I thought furiously. “Does he have control of automated armed satellites?” I sighed with relief when Chard shook his head. “He must have some reason for doing this. Any ideas?”

  Chard shook his head. “Not a one. I can’t see that he could accomplish anything except kill a lot of people. He couldn’t win; a fortified moon is a defensive weapon, not offensive.” He sighed again. “I guess I’d better talk to him. Would you like to listen in, Admiral?”

  Good manners would probably have called for me to bow out and allow Chard to talk to his man in private, but manners be hanged. The lives of my people were at stake. “Yes, Captain, I certainly would.”

  The man must have been waiting for Chard’s call; he responded almost immediately. The man who appeared in the vidscreen was in late middle age. Old for a Lieutenant Commander. He had to have been passed over for promotion at least once. His sour expression and insolent manner seemed to confirm that.

  “Hello, Captain!” he said with sarcastic emphasis. “I see you’ve got the imposter with you!”

  Chard replied, “Admiral Kedron’s no imposter, and you have to know it. What do you think you're playing at?”

  The man's face flushed with anger. “You might have betrayed your oath and your people, but I haven’t! You've surrendered without a shot to this rim rabble, and condemned your people to abandonment by the Empire.”

  Chard was stung. “Ridiculous!” he snorted. “You’ve seen the tapes of the Emperor’s visit to Haven. You have to know Jonas lied to us.”

  “NO!” the man shouted. “A crude fake! You’ve betrayed us for a fake and an imposter!”

  Chard started a hot reply, but I put a restraining hand on his arm. “And just what is it that you want, Commander?” I asked calmly.

  “Nothing from you, rim scum!” The man yelled. “But you’d better tell your tame Captain to see to it that we get a ship. We’re going home! We’ll let His Majesty know what’s being done out here in his name. If we don’t get a ship within twenty-four hours, we’ll start picking off those juicy targets orbiting Thaeron!”

  Chard was about to reply when both his and my signalers went off at once. We each answered our own, while the Lieutenant Commander scowled at us from the vidscreen.

  “Ships, Admiral,” Jax, my comm officer, reported. “Two ships just emerged; well, they must have emerged half an hour ago, but we’ve just detected them.”

  “Tell me,” I ordered.

  “One’s small and one’s large. The small one’s ID signal identifies her as Greyhound, a courier. The other's a cruiser, Ruthless. The cruiser is signaling ‘Flag on board’.”

  I looked at Chard, whose face echoed my own surprise. “A Flagship? Whose?”

  Jax looked puzzled. “Uh, that’s got to be a mistake, sir, but I’ve reconfirmed twice. Her ID signal says CINCFLEET!”

  My astonished gasp was echoed by Chard. “But that’s Chu-Lo!” cried the Lieutenant Commander.

  I whirled to the vidscreen. “I hope so!” I hissed. “Maybe you’ll believe the Commander in Chief of the Empire Fleet himself — and I won’t have to fire on any more Fleet people!” I cut the connection, and spun to Jax.

  “What’s happening?” I demanded.

  “Sir, a signal from Ruthless. ‘I am downloading safe path through mines, and will boost maximum. CO, Thaeron report to CINCFLEET upon arrival. Request presence of Vice Admiral Val Kedron. ETA twelve hours. Message ends.’ That’s all, sir. Latest fixes show Ruthless inbound at maximum boost.”

  Chard turned to me. “If you’ll excuse me, Admiral, twelve hours is hardly enough to get ready for a visit from CINCFLEET!" I nodded, and he hurried off.

  I spent most of the next twelve hours trying to figure out how a Vice Admiral in a nonexistent rim Fleet should greet the Commander In Chief of the real Fleet. I wanted to go put on my merchant Captain’s uniform and be done with it, but I knew that was impossible. I even considered trying to locate a marine major’s uniform — which shows how nervous I was. Vinlen Chu-Lo had been CINCFLEET for five years before I quit. During that time, he’d seemed almost a god to me, remote and omnipotent. Now he’d had the job for fifteen years, and he was the fleet. It was impossible to conceive of a fleet without him.

  In the event, it was much easier than my fears had led me to believe. When Chard and I arrived aboard Ruthless, a flag Captain in an impeccable uniform met us. He barely nodded to Chard, and then awarded me a slight bow before asking us to follow him. “The Fleet Admiral is expecting you,” he said with masterful understatement.

  When we entered the flag cabin, I was surprised to see the small, wizened man occupying the desk. A few wisps of white hair crossed his almost bald pate.

  However, when he looked up, I forgot all that. The man’s gaze held power. His entire manner radiated it. This small, frail old man became power personified when his hard eyes met yours. Chard and I stood at attention.

  A smile crossed the lined face, though it didn’t reach the eyes. He rose and came around the desk. "Please sit down, gentlemen. Captain Danought, I believe, yes?"

  Chard nodded. “Yes, sir! I’m honored and a bit surprised you knew the name, sir.”

  The smile firmed up. “Don’t be surprised, Captain. When I learned that idiot Jonas had suborned Van-Lyn and boosted for Haven, I hoped it would be you he’d leave in charge." Chard looked pleased and embarrassed.

  The Fleet Admiral turned to me. “And you must be Kedron.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good of you to greet me, Admiral. I’ve been wanting to meet you. I’ve seen your record, of course,” he continued, shaking his head.
“You’re another one of those young men we lost after Haskins’ World. Damn that planet! One small outlying system full of religious fanatics, and it nearly destroyed the Fleet. Cost us many of our best and brightest.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied. What else could I say to a statement like that?

  The old man's smile turned to a genuine grin. “Would you excuse us, Captain?” he inquired. “I’d like to speak with Admiral Kedron in private.”

  “Of course, sir. Uh . . . the welcoming ceremonies . . .”

  “ . . . can wait,” Chu-Lo finished.

  “Yes, sir,” Chard replied hastily and fled.

  “Now we can really talk,” Chu-Lo resumed. “Do you mind if I call you Val?”

  “Not at all, sir. I’d be honored.”

  He waved a dismissal. “None of that nonsense. We’re just two old Fleet mates here. Call me Vin.” He turned those blazing eyes on me. “The officer commanding that hulk at the jump point told me that you destroyed a battle cruiser and a dreadnought with a couple of damaged fleet ships and a flock of tramps!”

  “Actually, sir, I used a bag of rocks and an asteroid,” I replied.

  His eyes jerked to mine. “You mean that, don't you?” I nodded. “You know I’m going to want a detailed report,” he continued. “But you’re not under my command. Would you mind?”

  “Not at all, sir. But if I may suggest . . .”

  “Don’t be so damned humble,” he grumped. “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied. “It’s just that it’s not quite over yet. There’s a Fleet Lieutenant Commander and twenty-two others sitting out there on a fortified moon, threatening my ships.

  “I don’t want to fire on any more Fleet people,” I continued. “They won't listen to Captain Danought; they called him a traitor and a coward. They think I’m an imposter. They’re demanding a ship to go back and, quote, ‘let His Majesty know what’s being done out here in his name.’ They went for Jonas’ cover story hook, line and sinker.”

  The Fleet Admiral looked thoughtful. “I see. Do they know I’m here?”

  “Yes, sir. We were negotiating with them when your ships arrived. I was hoping, well, would you mind, sir? My people have had their fill of fighting for awhile.”

  He walked back to the desk and flicked a switch. “Res? I want to talk to a particularly thick Lieutenant Commander squatting on a moon out there. Captain Danought can tell you how to make contact. Call me when you have him.”

  He returned to me. “All right. Now, I’ve been hearing that you’ve developed some interesting unconventional ships out here. I’ll take that stupid crew off your hands if you’ll offer me a tour.” His grin was genuine and wide.

  I returned the grin. “Done, sir! We’ll board one of the privateers, and we’ll tour her. We’ll even let you have some fun with some interesting weapons. But I think you’ll be just as interested in our attack boats. They’re weird and wonderful.”

  We continued to chat for several minutes. Then a buzzer on his desk rang, and he went to talk to the mutineers on the moon.

  “I am Fleet Admiral Vinlen Chu-Lo,” he began. “Do you recognize me?”

  “Of . . . of course, sir,” the Lieutenant Commander replied in a small voice.

  “Good. That may be the only intelligent thing you’ve done recently! I have orders for you. In one hour, a shuttle will be sent to the moon you occupy. You and your people will board that shuttle for transport to this ship.” His thunderous scowl turned sardonic. “You’re about to get your wish. You’re going ‘home’ to Prime. Chu-Lo out!” He didn’t give the Lieutenant Commander a chance to reply, or even to acknowledge the orders. “That takes care of that,” he said. I could almost hear the thud of twenty-three Fleet careers slamming into a dead end. He sighed. “I guess I have to take the idiots back. I almost wish you’d wiped them out before I got here – would’ve raised the average IQ in the Fleet by ten points.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve killed entirely too many Fleet people, thanks to Jonas. Thank you for making it unnecessary to kill more.”

  He looked at me intently. “You mean that. I’m surprised you ever left the Fleet, if it means that much to you.”

  I shrugged. “I had to. After Haskins’ World, I had to get entirely away from the military. As it was, the nightmares nearly drove me crazy. Thanks to an engineer named Hari Carlon and an old surplus cargo hauler, I made it. But I still feel like Fleet.”

  I took him for a tour of one of the privateers. He stood on the bridge as its amazing speed and maneuverability were demonstrated, then thoroughly enjoyed shooting up an asteroid with one of the quick-firers. By the time we headed for Valkyrie, he was dictating memos directing Fleet procurement to look into contracting with the rim yards for a number of privateers.

  The privateers impressed him, but the boats were something completely new. We went all out, staging a mock attack on Ruthless with three privateers and all our boats. Cackling gleefully, Admiral Chu-Lo launched Ruthless' fifty Strengl fighters. The Strengls ‘destroyed’ one privateer and ‘damaged’ another, but were themselves ‘wiped out’ in minutes at the ‘cost’ of four boats. The remaining boats swarmed around Ruthless, registering hit after hit, and defying Ruthless’ gunners’ efforts to lock onto them. In less than half an hour, Chu-Lo was forced to admit that Ruthless had been ‘destroyed’. When the simulated attack was concluded, Toms Tindarr and his boys went on to give the Fleet Admiral an unscheduled exhibition of a boat dance.

  When we returned to the flag cabin, Chu-Lo was looking thoughtful.

  “What you’ve done out here is incredible,” he began. “I had my doubts, but His Majesty insisted that the Rim would be the salvation of civilization. Now, I’m not so sure he wasn’t right. I know that I wouldn’t want to take on your forces with an entire battle group. You’re rewriting the book on spaceborne tactics. Once you get your Fleet established, I hope you’ll entertain visitors from the Fleet — we’ve got a lot to learn from you.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t expect to be around, sir. Cord shanghaied me by grabbing my ship. Now that it’s all over, maybe I can go back to being just a fat old trader.”

  He gave me that intent look again. “Had any nightmares recently?” he asked with elaborate casualness.

  “Why, no sir.” I replied, confused.

  “Uh huh. Admiral,” he continued, “You’re an excellent strategist and an outstanding tactician. You probably even make a profit as a trader. But mostly, you’re a commander. You can no more walk away from command than breathe vacuum. Cord’s too smart not to ask you to build the new rim worlds Fleet. If you turn him down, you'll regret it the rest of your days.”

  “Will you be visiting Haven, Admiral? I'm sure the Viceroy would be honored.”

  The old man's grin told me that he’d seen through my effort to change the subject. “I’m afraid not, Val. I’ll have to return to Prime immediately." He grimaced. “The only reason His Majesty unchained me from my desk this time was that we thought a dreadnought might have fallen into the wrong hands.” He shrugged and chuckled. “We were right, but we didn’t count on having you out here to throw rocks at it!”

  Fleet Admiral Chu-Lo didn’t participate in the ceremonies that had been hastily prepared. Instead, he ordered that all Fleet personnel tune into a broadcast, during which he announced an amnesty for all Fleet people for any acts committed pursuant to orders from a superior officer. He also mentioned that despite Jonas’ claims, the Fleet had never intended to abandon its personnel on the rim. “Our intent was that you would be rotated back as you finished training rimworld replacements for yourselves. His Majesty was very disturbed to learn that Fleet personnel would believe that he would violate the Round Trip Ticket. I was equally disturbed to learn that our people would believe such a ridiculous story. If you can truly believe that the Fleet is capable of such duplicity, perhaps you should reconsider your career choices.

  “Yes, the rim will be taking over Thaeron and
the ships currently homeported here. His Majesty has seen fit to present them to his good friend and ally, Sander Cord. However, he has not and will not abandon Empire subjects! On the contrary, His Majesty has asked me to urge you to train the rim people as quickly as possible, so we can bring you home.”

  After a few more reassurances and pleasantries, Chu-Lo ended his broadcast.

  Finally, it was time to say goodbye. I saluted him, but Chu-Lo would have none of it; he shook my hand. “Admiral,” he said, “It’s been a genuine pleasure to meet you. I’m sure we'll be seeing each other again.” Suddenly he leaned close. “Val, thank you for the most fun I've had in years! Playing with that quick-firer and then commanding during that battle exercise are things I’ll remember fondly when I’m chained to my desk."

  His smile faded and his voice got even softer. “I can guarantee you at least five years, Val. His Majesty is positive that he can control the troublemakers for that long. After that . . .” he shrugged. “Use the time wisely.” He sighed. “I’ll pray that our fleets never have to oppose each other. Good Luck, Val!” He turned sharply and strode away. Ruthless boosted for the jump point within the hour.

  Chapter XVII

  Valkyrie and the privateers jumped shortly afterward. We had nothing to fear from Thaeron, and our jobs were largely done. All that remained was for the privateers to jump to Outback for removal of their weaponry, and Valkyrie to Haven, so I could report to Cord. I hoped he wouldn’t suck me back into that social whirlpool. We left all the true warships at Thaeron; they wouldn’t be needed immediately — we hoped.

  During the long hours in jump, Suli and I talked at length about my encounter with Chu-Lo; or rather, I talked and she listened. Finally, she burst into laughter. “You sound like a teenager who’s met his favorite trivid idol.”

  I flushed. “Actually, you’re not far wrong,” I replied. “I’ve admired Chu-Lo for years. He is the Fleet.”

  She nodded. “I saw his broadcast, and I watched him when he toured Valkyrie. He certainly has presence. He just dominates any situation, doesn’t he?”