Time Commander (The First Admiral Series)

by Benning, William J.

  It was the harvest season on the fifteen planets of the Laeridian sector that provided Ganthus with the food and water that it needed to sustain its population over the forthcoming year. The Frontier Fleets would be needed to patrol these supply lines to protect the vital convoys from any marauding Bardomil ships that could slip over the frontier to disrupt the food and water supply.

  The Plain of Ganthus itself was a dry barren planet that had once been a tropical paradise, until the Garmaurians had chosen it as a training ground for their military in hostile environment battle situations. Billions of cubic kilometres of water were locked in the core of the planet, but even the finest engineering minds of the Ganthoran Empire had still been unable to free this tantalizing treasure that lay below the surface. With a harsh, dry and dusty climate, Ganthus was unable to feed its own population, making the cities and towns of the planet reliant on imported food and water from conquered worlds. At a time when food and water supplies were at their lowest; before the harvest, Frontier General Grobbeg had launched some foolish glory-hunting expedition that now threatened to jeopardise the entire future of the planet.

  Grand Adjudicator Bellor, sitting in his opulently furnished private apartments, could have wept with anger and frustration. All the years he had struggled to hold the Empire together and Grobbeg was threatening it all after a few hours of vainglorious lunacy.

  His wife, the Lady Gildran, knew that at a time like this, it was best to leave her husband alone for a few hours to let him work the anger from his system. She could see that he was beginning to suffer under the pressure and stress of the great responsibility that the late Emperor had placed upon him.

  There were times that she felt it was so unfair upon her husband to have to fulfil the final, dying wishes of a long-dead Emperor. The Emperor should have married and had sons and daughters to found a dynasty to take over the burden of the Imperial mantle. Fate, however, had decreed otherwise and the Emperor had died childless. Bellor had done all that he possibly could to keep the Emperor’s dream alive. However, there was only just so much that a Grand Adjudicator could do without real Imperial power and authority. The compromises had been struck, and clandestine political deals had been made. With every passing day, the Lady Gildran had seen the light of enthusiasm slowly dim in her husband’s increasingly wearied eyes. Now, he was starting to buckle under the strain of what he considered to be his duty to the late Emperor.

  He was trapped by the circumstances that he had created with his compromises and politicking. Looking at her husband’s sleep-deprived eyes and slumped shoulders, Gildran knew one day it would all be too much for Bellor. The Empire needed a new ruler before the responsibilities crushed Grand Adjudicator Bellor into an early grave. The new Time Warrior Candidate looked more like a juvenile than an Emperor-in-waiting, Gildran considered. He was an alien, and as an alien, Gildran was automatically suspicious of him. In her youth, she would have hated the fiery-haired human with a vengeance. However, he had shown himself to be polite and respectful as well as brave. Those were qualities that would make a fine Emperor.

  Looking over at her husband, Lady Gildran sensed that this might be the last Time Warrior Candidate to attempt the ritual before Bellor succumbed to his burden. If Caudwell won, then there would be an alien Emperor; the first in Ganthoran history, and every fibre in her body rebelled against that idea. Lady Gildran was Ganthoran to her very heart and soul, but she was also a wife and mother who loved her family. As she watched her exhausted husband, she decided that she would prefer an unknown alien Emperor over a dead husband.

  Chapter 10: The Star Cruiser Aquarius

  First Admiral William Caudwell sat alone in the darkness of his Private Quarters, and his mind was troubled.

  Laying in front of him on the lazy-S shaped table was the report from the Universal Alliance Diplomatic Corps, and it did not make for pleasant reading. The Ganthoran invasion of Alliance space had precipitated a declaration of war from the Imperial Palace in Ganthus City. Ganthoran Law had been quite strict and clear upon the matter; Grobbeg’s attack had precipitated a state of open hostility between the Universal Alliance and the Ganthoran Empire. To Billy Caudwell it was sheer lunacy. He had shattered Grobbeg’s Frontier Fleet, and was perfectly capable of doing the same to any other Ganthoran force that attacked the Alliance. The Diplomatic Corps were less than pleased. Grobbeg’s attack had undone months of careful diplomatic manoeuvring and overtures.

  Now, Billy Caudwell was faced with a decision. With the Ganthorans having been pushed into this war just as unwillingly as the Alliance, they were now legally and honour bound to launch further attacks on the Alliance to avenge Grobbeg’s defeat and to re-instate their own self-respect. Billy could have screamed with frustration at the stupidity of it all. When he least needed the distraction, Billy was now required to focus his energies and military resources into defending against another Ganthoran attack. This left First Admiral William Caudwell with two choices: firstly, he could sit on the Terganian frontier and wait for the Ganthorans to mass their forces and launch an attack, or he could be more proactive and launch what was known as a “Decapitation Strike” against Ganthus itself.

  The Decapitation Strike involved leading a stealthed Task Force to the home planet of the enemy, overwhelming the planetary defences and forcing the Government to capitulate before the military could fully respond. It would certainly put a stop to the ridiculous state of war that currently existed, but it did not answer the question of the Frontier Generals. Each Frontier General was effectively an independent warlord, controlling their individual frontier, nominally answerable to the Adjudicators back on Ganthus. If the planet of Ganthus fell, then there was no guarantee that the Frontier Generals; like Grobbeg, would also capitulate. The Frontier Fleets were powerful, and would take time, materials and lives to subdue. This was an option that Billy Caudwell could neither risk nor countenance.

  The Universal Alliance simply could not afford to begin a costly and protracted war at this time, since the Alliance was too new and fragile. The political structures were still being defined and ratified by the civilian leadership of the member planets, and they were unlikely to send millions of their soldiers to a long-term war of subjugation with a species most of them had never even heard of. It would strain the fragile Alliance beyond breaking point.

  Whatever way Billy Caudwell cut this particular problem, he could see only military action with a massive loss of life on both sides.

  He could be patient and hope that the Diplomatic Corps could re-establish links with Ganthus City and negotiate some form of Treaty of Alliance. The report from the blue folder on the desk in front of him indicated that Diplomatic Relations had been severed with the delivery of the war declaration. The Ganthorans were unlikely to come to the negotiation table, unless they had been severely weakened militarily; and that meant fighting another large-scale battle.

  Chief of Staff Lokkrien had suggested a pre-emptive strike against the Frontier Fleets, but he’d had to concede that the Fleets were too big for the available Alliance resources and scattered too far and wide to be effectively attacked. The idea of neutral intermediaries had been suggested, to somehow inject a degree of sanity into the situation. However, the Diplomatic Corps could find no species in this particular galaxy that the Ganthorans would be prepared to listen to. Almost two thousand years of conquest and expansion had left the Ganthorans with very few friends in this part of the universe. It had looked very much like a no-win situation for Billy and the Alliance, until a very inebriated General Grobbeg had let slip, as he was half carried away from the First Admiral’s dinner table, that Billy would make a good Emperor, along with something about a ritual. It had not registered on Billy’s consciousness until several days later, when the political and diplomatic situation had rapidly deteriorated. It was then that he had set Senior Intelligence Officer Sownus on the trail of this drunken rambling of a ritual.

  It had been just under two hours since Senior Intell
igence Officer Sownus had delivered the red folder that now lay on the desk in front of him. Billy Caudwell had read the contents of the folder three times now, and each time he read it, the more convinced he became that this was the only solution to the problem. The ritual to which the inebriated Grobbeg had referred was known as the Time Warrior ritual.

  Being a species genetically designed for battle by the Garmaurians, the Ganthoran rulers had decided upon a series of rituals which would test the courage and skill of each Candidate for the Imperial Throne. The one most suited to leading the combined Ganthoran armies, and to expand the Empire, would be the Emperor. A legal ruling, several centuries before, had made it possible for an alien commander, having defeated a Frontier General, to claim a Candidacy for the Time Warrior ritual. The Law on an alien Candidate was quite clear: if an alien commander defeated a Ganthoran Frontier Fleet, then he or she was eligible to claim a Candidacy, if there was no reigning Emperor, or if in the course of that victory, the Emperor was killed, leaving no surviving heirs or successors. The state of war that existed between the alien species and the Ganthorans would be suspended until the completion of the ritual; whether the Candidate succeeded or failed. Should the Candidate succeed in the ritual, they would become Emperor of the Ganthorans. Should the Candidate fail, then the state of war would be re-instated as per the law. That was unless the two parties agreed to cease hostilities as part of the funeral rites of the dead Candidate.

  Now, this indeed was a particularly nasty bind that Billy found himself in. Whatever way he cut the problem, he was either going to have to risk his own life in this Time Warrior ritual, or he was going to have to fight the combined might of the Ganthoran Frontier Fleets.

  If he decided to go with the Decapitation Strategy, Billy would have to tangle with the Ganthoran Imperial Guard who protected Ganthus itself. It was one of those thankless choices that faced every military or political commander: what should he do for the greater good of the Alliance?

  Rising from the comfortable bench-like seat that stood behind the lazy-S desk in his darkened Personal Quarters, Billy Caudwell walked calmly over to the small bedside table. With a deep breath, he pressed the yellow button on the small silver cube that formed part of the Communications infrastructure of the Aquarius.

  “Senior Communications Officer, sir?” The small silver bedside cube filled the darkened cabin with its military correctness.

  “Yes, Comms, I’d like you to open a Vide-Link Communications stream to the Grand Adjudicator in Ganthus City, and get me the Director of the Diplomatic Corps.” Billy released the yellow button on the cube.

  Dear God, I hope I’m doing the right thing, he pondered, running his fingers through his hair with anxiety.

  Chapter 11: Ganthoran Imperial Guard Carrier “Daradeg”

  Angrily, Frontier General Avavid Kallet sat, barely hiding the scorn in his grimace, surrounded by his five bodyguards at a small, circular table in the large Briefing Room aboard a Ganthoran Imperial Guard “Six-Cigar” carrier.

  The Briefing Room was well lit, its pale grey walls adorned with star maps and charts detailing the various sectors of the Empire. The ceiling was low, no more than two metres higher than a tall Imperial Guard. At one end of the Briefing Room was the main door through which everyone passed. At the other end a smaller door next to a slightly raised Briefing Dais. On the Briefing Dais stood a large table covered with a royal blue cloth bearing the gold insignia of the Imperial Guard. Behind the table stood a large high-backed chair, also of royal blue.

  Along the walls at precisely three metre intervals stood Imperial Guards with their side-arm holsters opened. The Imperial Guards stood stiffly to attention, as they had been trained to through many hours of hard, rigorous drills. Silently, the Guards stood at their posts with that edge of concealed menace that Kallet recognised from his own elite troops. The uniform of the Imperial Guard was similar to the Frontier Fleet. The basic colour of tunic and trousers was a light silver-grey. The Imperial Guard, however, had a royal blue facing to the tunic that was fastened by two rows of gold button-like fasteners. Their helmets were royal blue, with a large Imperial motif on the front. The gold-coloured reflective visor of the helmet was clipped firmly down, obscuring the facial features of the wearer. The belt, worn at the waist, was black with a gold buckle. The boots were also shiny black; half boots for Guards, and knee boots for Officers.

  Even though only the finest of the Ganthoran military went into the Imperial Guard Regiments, they were very rarely used in Frontier campaigns. The Imperial Guard were used primarily for the defence of the Emperor and the Imperial Palace. Their secondary function was to protect the planet of Ganthus itself. Hence, the Imperial Guard were seen as neutral and above the squabbling and bickering of the Frontier Generals. General Kallet had harboured ambitions to join the ranks of the Imperial Guard in his youth. His application, although respectfully received, was rejected, mainly due to his education being less than average. Avavid Kallet had never forgotten that. He had resolved that one day he would repay the Imperial Guard for that rejection that had sent him out to the hardship and cruelty of the Frontier Fleets.

  General Kallet, sitting in the Briefing Room, was not amused. He had been waiting for nearly an hour, and he despised being kept waiting. Having been summoned by a mysterious stranger, of obviously high rank, to a meeting aboard the Carrier “Daradeg”, he had arrived with his small personal bodyguard. As a Frontier General, he was used to being summoned from his personal fiefdom out on the Third Frontier. The warships of the Imperial Guard were considered neutral territory in the constant manoeuvring and back-stabbing amongst the Frontier Generals, however, not even an Emperor had summoned all four of the remaining Frontier Generals to a meeting.

  Sitting opposite to him in the briefing room were the seated figures of Frontier Generals Timmeg and Sal’nor, each surrounded by their own bodyguards.

  Frontier General Kav’al was conspicuous by his absence, however, Kallet rationalised that the wily General would not want to miss out on this meeting. If the other three Frontier Generals were here, then it stood to reason that Kav’al would not be far away. Only General Grobbeg was likely to be absent; he was under house arrest, under sentence of death for gross dereliction of duty. Grobbeg had gotten himself defeated by some young human from the Universal Alliance, who, it was reported, looked barely old enough to walk.

  In losing the battle to the young human, Grobbeg had left the Empire vulnerable to attack. A Universal Alliance, how preposterous and pretentious, Kallet snorted derisively to himself. But, Avavid Kallet did have to acknowledge that it would take someone of immense ability and resources to defeat an experienced Frontier General like Jarrelm Grobbeg.

  Once again, Kallet viewed the company in the Briefing Room and saw as twisted and evil a bunch of nasty, ruthless, sadistic psychopaths and renegades as had ever put on a Frontier Fleet uniform. Not that Frontier General Avavid Kallet considered himself to be any better than the rest of them; he had done what he considered necessary to survive and prosper in the Frontier Fleet. He made no bones or excuses about it, he just accepted what he was, what he had done in the past, and would have no qualms about what he needed to do in the future.

  At that moment, the door set to the side of the Dais swept open to reveal two officers of the Imperial Guard. The Guard officers, both tall and fully-visored, stepped into the room and took up the attention position on both sides of the doorway. Following the Guard, Kallet saw a tall and stocky figure in a long dark green robe, tied at the waist by a simple red cord. The long hood of the robe was pulled up, masking any facial features of the wearer as he swept past the two doorway sentinels and took up a place on the Dais.

  “Gentlemen,” a muffled and mechanically-distorted voice filled the area, “I thank you for answering my summons.”

  “Who are you?” The predictably bullish General Kav’al rose to his feet.

  “Why have you brought us all here!?” Timmeg demanded.

&n
bsp; At the first sign of any threat, the Imperial Guards were conditioned to being ready to stop them before they escalate into anything serious. With that in mind, the Guards drew their pistols, pointing them in the directions of Timmeg and Kav’al. Kallet, a wiser and less fiery head, stayed silent and watched Sal’nor remain equally impassive. Kallet was waiting to see what was going on, as was Sal’nor. The shrewder heads would wait and see if anything to their advantage could come out of this highly irregular summoning.

  “Gentlemen,” the hooded and robed figure placated the situation with a raised hand and a calm and authoritative voice.

  To Kallet, this was obviously someone who had a great deal of experience of being obeyed. It was also someone who had walked the corridors of power in Ganthus City. His manner and demeanor, plus the response of the Imperial Guards, shouted “Adjudicator” at Kallet. But, which one, he questioned. This individual was obviously in disguise. Kallet had seen all three Adjudicators up close, but this one had the physique of none of the people he recognised.

  “Please, let us have no more unpleasantness, all will be revealed in good time, but first, allow me to present my credentials.” The hooded figure sat on his high-backed chair behind the table.