by Jay Allan
“Would they dare?” Vennius felt a wave of Palatian pride, but it quickly faded, leaving in his mind an answer other than the one he wanted. Maybe.
“Can we take the chance? Our own weakness aids the Union ambassadors. We do their work for them, allowing them to point in our direction, to show our neighbors just how much of our fleet was lost in the civil war, and how much is now twenty jumps away, on the Confederation-Union border.”
“I understand, Cilian. The situation is not ideal. We must do all we can to defend ourselves against any neighbors encouraged to attack us. And yet, we must do so without abandoning who we are. I will not forsake my promise to the Confederation, nor to Tyler Barron, who was true to his word to me.” Vennius saw the restlessness among his officers, and he held up his hand, stilling them instantly. “However, I will not ignore the threats we face. I shall prioritize all new construction with projected completion dates of one-half year or less, diverting resources from less complete projects. Further, I shall activate the remaining ships of the mothballed reserve and recall warriors from the retired list to help crew them.”
Vennius felt a surge of energy. It always made him feel better to actually do something rather than just planning and talking. “I will also issue a decree accelerating Citizenship for all Probationary-Aspirants who serve in any pending conflicts…and Pleb families of good records will be allowed to advance to Probationary status by providing recruits to the service.”
He could tell the other officers were surprised. The way was a model of duty and service, but it had always had somewhat of a dark side, a rigid caste system that relegated various residents of the Alliance to lesser statuses than the Palatian Citizens and Patricians. Vennius was devoted to the way, but he also recognized the ways in which it might change. Had to change, if the Alliance was to prosper.
“Are you sure about this, Your Supremacy?” No one seemed to have the stomach to challenge Vennius outright, and he knew that Globus spoke for them all with his question.
“We must decide, my fellow officers, who we will fight in the future. Outsiders? Enemies? Or our own people? The way has inspired us for sixty years, but even that must change. We must retain the best elements of the way…duty, courage, hard work, but we must also allow it to evolve, so that it may survive. So that we may survive. We have just endured a struggle against our own people, one begun not by rebelling Plebs or invading foreigners, but by our own Palatian brethren. If warriors like Calavius and those who followed him are capable of such treachery, what future unrest do we court by making the lowest levels of our society into enemies, by denying them any path to Citizenship?”
He looked out at his officers, at the stunned looks on their faces. He’d been thinking about this for some time, but he hadn’t intended to go so far, not yet. “You are concerned, Commander Daggus, are you not, that the Unaligned Systems might join forces against us, that the Holdfast might choose this moment to invade? Perhaps you are correct. How, do you imagine, would the Plebs on our subject worlds react? Would they fight off the invaders, with farm implements and kitchen knives if need be, as no doubt, the residents of Palatia would? Or would they welcome these enemies with open arms, as liberators? If we deny any hope to those we rule, we make our own enemies. For sixty years, we have been warriors only, courageous, strong…but now the Alliance must move forward, it must become a true nation, one supported by its people—all its people. One with allies and interstellar relationships. One that honors its commitments.”
Vennius could feel the shakiness in his gut, the uncertainty at the future he was laying out as he spoke. His words were his own, the thoughts ones he genuinely believed, but a lifetime of culture and indoctrination fought against each word.
“We must prepare to meet any enemy, to use what remains here to us to endure what challenges come, to defeat any adversary that dares to move against us. We must embrace the best of old Palatia, of the Alliance we have known, and take it boldly into the future.”
Vennius sat where he was, still now, silent. He panned his gaze across the room, looking at the faces staring back at him. Some looked intrigued, others confused. His own mind was clearer than before. He knew what he had to do, though he didn’t like much of it. But liking it was irrelevant, and he knew what he had to do.
* * *
“Great and Terrible Krillus, I thank you for this audience.” Desiree Marieles stood below the large pedestal, looking up at the man seated on the golden throne. Krillus was a disappointment, visually at least, as she’d discovered on her first visit months before. He was small in stature, far from the image of the great conqueror his minions tried so hard to project. Of course, that conqueror was his great-grandfather. The line has clearly withered since then.
Even Krillus I had been overestimated, she suspected. The Holdfast was a middling power at best, a collection of systems that had enjoyed some martial success against weaker neighbors several generations back, before they ran into the larger and more capably-led Alliance. Marieles imagined it owed its continued existence more to the fact that the Palatians had enough other enemies to keep them busy over the past half-century or so, though no doubt Krillus had convinced himself it was fear of his fleets and armies.
“I am pleased to welcome you again into my presence, Ambassador Marieles. Your beauty graces my Court.”
She held her gaze steady, not a trace of the disgust she felt showing through the impenetrable façade of her face. Sector Nine training covered many areas, but deception was near the top. The fool had a weakness for attractive women, that was almost certainly why she’d been selected for the mission. Desiree Marieles was a skilled agent, and an assassin of no slight accomplishment, but she was also a very attractive woman.
She stared at the pathetic excuse for a monarch and his grotesque smile. The fool must have had hundreds of women—most yanked from their homes in the middle of the night and dragged to his chambers—yet he fell into the weakness of wanting a foreign diplomat. Perhaps even badly enough to start a war for me…
She was repulsed by the pathetic fool, a juvenile caricature squandering the power of his grandfather’s throne, but that wasn’t important. She’d give him a tumble if that was all it took to bring the Krillians in against the Alliance. She’d always used any weapon at her disposal to get the job done, and she had no regrets. The key mission of her career to date, the one that advanced her to the top ranks of Sector Nine, and the wealth and power that came with it, had been the seduction and assassination of no less than a member of the Presidium. It had been a simple termination with no need to embellish or send any messages, so she’d let him finish first—there was never a time a target’s defenses were so down—and then she’d done it quickly, almost effortlessly. She doubted he’d even seen it coming.
She didn’t want to kill Krillus, at least not yet, but she knew success in bringing the Holdfast into the war against the Alliance would bring her to the very pinnacle of Sector Nine, within reach of the top job. Gaston Villieneuve wouldn’t be such an easy target, and she suspected it would take far more than a spirited roll in the silk sheets to get his guard down, but if he was all that stood between her and that chair…
She forced her focus back to the matter at hand. You have to get this done before you can worry about Villieneuve’s job.
“You are most kind, Great and Terrible Krillus. May I ask if you have considered my previous request?” She slid slightly to the side, giving Krillus a good view of her outfit. She’d felt a little foolish putting it on. No ambassador she’d ever seen had worn something this form-fitting, at least not outside a fantasy vid, but the way the Holdfast’s monarch had stared at her the last time she was there, she was pretty confident it was the way to go. If he was going to undress her with his eyes, she might as well give him a head start.
“I have, Ambassador. I find your proposal intriguing indeed, and yet, I am uncertain. The Alliance is a dangerous enemy to face, even for forces as powerful as my own. I must be certai
n before I commit.”
“Certain?” she said, trying hard not to sound condescending. “Great and Terrible Krillus, the Alliance forces are shattered from their civil war, and most of what remains to them is on the Union border, fighting alongside the Confederation. This opportunity is extraordinary, and it will likely never come again. I urge you once again to move as quickly as possible, to take this chance to outshine even the conquests of your illustrious great-grandfather.” She stood there and watched as her words sliced into Krillus. If the Holdfast’s ruler had one weakness besides women, it was being compared to his illustrious ancestor.
“What do you offer in support? For it is no secret that you seek such action on my part to aid your own war effort.”
Marieles was surprised at the response. Perhaps Krillus wasn’t quite as much of a fool as she’d thought. She’d considered him easily manipulated, but now she got the impression that he had already been considering action against the Alliance.
It was a weak point for her, one she’d dreaded. She had expected Villieneuve to send her to this wretched frontier with piles of currency, a treasure fit to entice a new ally. But she had almost nothing to offer. A few weapons shipments perhaps, mostly obsolete ordnance that had to travel so far from the Union, it wouldn’t even arrive until after the Krillians had launched their attack. She had no significant sums of money. It had only been that moment, when Villieneuve had denied her the funds she’d requested, that she realized just how dire the situation was in the Union.
“I offer ongoing friendship, Great and Terrible Krillus, an alignment of the Union and the Holdfast that will strike terror in our enemies’ hearts. And weapons, high tech ordnance to upgrade your military, to make you the great power in this sector.” She paused for an instant and then added, “The undisputed great power.” There was no sense in being careless with language and insulting her host. A lunatic like Krillus could have worked himself into believing nearly anything, including some sense of parity with the—normally—vastly stronger Alliance.
Krillus looked down at her, silent for a moment. I find your offer intriguing, Ambassador. I think we should discuss this further. Over dinner, perhaps?”
She didn’t like the idea of being trapped alone with Krillus, not before she got something more definitive from him. She was willing to do whatever was necessary to see her mission to success, of course, but she wasn’t about to give this pig anything for free.
She glanced quickly to each side. Krillus’s guards lined the walls. She didn’t think her host would risk war with the Union—or Sector Nine’s retribution—by abducting an ambassador and forcing himself on her if she refused his invitation. The guards were armed, of course, but she suspected they were there mostly for show…and if they did come at her, they were in for quite a surprise. They’d overwhelm her, almost certainly—there were just too many of them—but not before more than one of them died.
She nodded her head slightly. “Of course, Great and Terrible Krillus. I would be honored.” There was nothing to be gained by refusing the invitation. She was fairly certain he wouldn’t force himself on her…and completely certain that if he did, in the privacy of his bed chamber and not the throne room full of guards, he would die.
“I shall send my chamberlain to bring you at the seventh hour, Ambassador. I look forward to a…most productive…conversation.”
“As do I, Great and Terrible Krillus.”
Chapter Ten
Fleet Base Grimaldi
Orbiting Krakus II
Krakus System
Year 313 AC
“I think I’ll call it an early night, Andi. I’ve got a long day tomorrow. The admiral isn’t up to full duty yet, and I’m afraid it’s all falling on me.”
Lafarge sat at the small table in her quarters, her eyes moving from the dinner Barron had hardly touched to his body, tense, standing next to the table looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else.
“If that’s what you want, Tyler.” Her words were carefully spoken, her tone intended to let no sign of any emotions she felt slip out. She and Barron had always had an odd relationship. They were both loners, at least in terms of romantic liaisons, and though she was fairly sure Barron felt the same way about her that she did about him, she had never fully adapted to the idea of an ongoing relationship. She doubted he had either. But still, the discomfort he clearly felt around her right now was upsetting, all the more so because of her own anger with herself for allowing it to bother her.
“It’s not what I want…” He paused. He was looking in her general direction, but he was clearly avoiding her gaze. “I wanted to ask you…are you planning to leave Grimaldi soon?” He hesitated again, clearly uncomfortable. “I just mean, I know Gary Holsten completed your contract…”
A nice way of saying “paid you off.”
“Most of your crew seem to have made arrangements, or are getting ready to leave.”
How would you know that unless you checked? Nice to see you prepped for this little…whatever this is.
“I know you’ve always wanted to retire to some pleasant world.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me, Tyler?” Her tone was more pointed than she’d intended.
“No, of course not. It’s just that I’m going to be very busy…and I’ll probably be leaving Grimaldi for a while. Fleet exercises.”
I hope you’re a better liar than this with other people…
“So…”
“So, you want me to leave? If that’s what this is, Tyler, all you have to do is say it.” She was getting angry, even as she tried to hold it back. She hadn’t been able to stop Barron from getting to her, from pulling strings no one else had ever been able to pull, but she’d be damned if she would show him that.
“No, I just thought…” Barron hesitated now. “Well, to be honest, I have wanted to discuss something. You’ve finished your work, but mine is still going on, and it will be as long as the war continues. I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, but…”
“Fine, Tyler. I agree. It was fun, but it’s time to move on.” She looked right at him. “And, you’re right about tonight. I’ve got some business to attend to tomorrow myself, and I think it’s time to get some sleep.”
Barron stood where he was, looking troubled. “Andi…”
“No worries, Tyler. I hope your exercises go well. We’re certainly all counting on you all to end this war as soon as possible.” Then, a few seconds later, “Goodnight, Tyler.”
Barron looked like he might say something else, but finally, he just nodded and said, “Goodnight, Andi.” He turned and walked toward the door, opening it and slipping out into the corridor.
Lafarge sat where she was, not sure if the anger and frustration she felt were stronger than the hurt. She detested the weakness in her that made her care so much what Barron did or said, and also the foolishness that let his words cut at her even when she was so certain he was full of shit. He wanted her off Grimaldi, but she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with his being tired of her.
The war situation is worse than general knowledge suggests. He’s worried about Grimaldi falling.
She pondered the image of Barron as he spoke to her, the tension she could see as though it was written across his face. No, it’s more than just that. There would be plenty of warning and time to try to chase me off Grimaldi if the enemy was coming.
She sat for a few minutes longer, thinking. And then, suddenly, she knew.
He’s going to do something crazy…and he doesn’t think he’s coming back.
* * *
“Commander…I mean, Captain, Fritz. It’s good to see you.”
“As it is to see you, Commander Billings.” A brief silence. “But, perhaps we can dispense with the extended pleasantries and get right to the matter at hand.”
Billings nodded, suppressing a grin. Fritz hadn’t changed, and that realization suddenly told him he should have eaten before he’d come, because he was likely in for a fourt
een-hour shift now, minimum.
Fritz extended her arm, gesturing toward a large cylindrical object, a little over three meters tall and about a meter in diameter. “This is the primary unit of this piece of old tech. It is…” She stopped abruptly. “Everything you see here is classified at the highest levels, Commander. Understood?”
“Yes, Captain. Of course.” Wow, this is serious. Of course, he’d known something big was up when he’d gotten the recall, no, the request to volunteer, to serve once again aboard Dauntless.
“This device, and the several you see laid out around it, are all part of an old tech device, a stealth generator. It was found in the Badlands, and Grimaldi’s research teams have spent the last six months trying to figure it out.” She extended her arm, handing a medium-sized tablet to Billings. “These are their research notes.” Her voice was dismissive, as if it was incumbent on her to display at least some disrespect for the base’s engineering teams. Still, she followed it up with, “They have made some progress…a considerable amount, actually. But, now, we’ve got to finish it, and we’ve got to do it quickly. A week, two at most, and then we’ve got to get it installed in Dauntless and tested.”
The recall began to make sense to Billings. Then, he realized… Dauntless was going out on a mission, mostly likely a very desperate mission, one where staying hidden was imperative. “Captain, I’m sure we can figure this thing out, but in a week? Even with the whole team back together, that seems almost an insane time frame…especially if Dauntless’s survival is going to depend on this thing functioning.”
“It will, Commander. Very much so. Not only on its functioning, but at the critical stage, on its operating without any flaws or glitches of any kind.”