by Cameron, TR
“Unfortunately, it’s not just a social request that brings us together today.”
“I assumed as much. I’ve heard rumors. Does this relate to them?”
“It does.”
“How can I and the Ruby Rain be of service to the church, Hierarch?”
Kraada smiled. “There is no need for titles among family, Commander.” He turned the last word into a gentle tease, before he grew serious. “We’re at a turning point, one way or the other, and before we continue, I must know where your loyalties lie.” He could’ve explained more, but he was certain her sharp mind would jump to the right conclusions.
“My first loyalty is to family, Uncle. Then to my service, then to the gods. In most situations, I find these three are served equally well by the same actions.”
“And if they were not?”
“It is as I have said.”
“Very good,” Kraada said, clapping his hands. He moved to a nearby cupboard and retrieved a bottle of wine and two glasses. As he poured for each of them, he said, “You’re as honest as ever. There’s an emerging situation that will almost certainly stress one or more of those loyalties before it is resolved.”
Indraat's wings fluttered as she moved toward the low couch at Kraada’s gesture. Her skin inhabited the red side of the spectrum, reflecting hues of scarlet, orange, and purple. The contrast with her ship’s uniform, a lush black with accents of red throughout, made her stunning. The sheaths on her outer thighs lacked the vicious duo of daggers she routinely carried, and he noted that the shoulder holster underneath her jacket was also empty. “I’m sorry that my attendant took your weapons. You should’ve been permitted to keep them.”
She shrugged. “It has been some time since we’ve seen each other, Uncle. It was a sensible precaution for your staff to take. As long as I get them back undamaged, I’m comfortable being weaponless in your presence.”
Kraada gave her a knowing look. “As if you’re ever weaponless, Vray.” She gave a small nod, conceding the point. She might be weaponless, but she was in no way defenseless. He was one of the few people aware of her advanced hand-to-hand training with the ground troops. Her experience with them wouldn’t be appreciated by the majority of her service comrades. “In any case, I have a strategy meeting today with Marshal Drovaa, and I’d like you to join us.”
They finished their wine and spoke of family matters until it was time to visit fleet headquarters.
* * *
They were ushered into Drovaa’s office as soon as they arrived. While Kraada knew the other two had encountered one another before, he felt it necessary to introduce them again, anyway.
“Marshal Drovaa, this is Indraat Vray, Commander of the Ruby Rain, and daughter of my sister.” Drovaa returned her salute, then shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Commander. I believe I was there when you graduated from the Academy.” She nodded, clearly pleased to be remembered.
Kraada gestured for her to take a seat, taking the one closest to the desk for himself. “We have several matters to discuss, Marshal.”
“I presume you mean other than outfitting, provisioning, crewing, and launching an invasion fleet on an unexplored trajectory, correct?”
Kraada laughed. “Exactly. It’s good you have the simple parts well under control.” Indraat and Drovaa both smiled at his light-heartedness.
“Indeed, Hierarch.”
The moment of levity fell away against the seriousness of the situation. “What’s the status of our force, Marshal?”
Drovaa stood and paced. “Six ships are ready to depart, including the Jade Breeze. Seven, if we include the Ruby Rain.” He looked at Indraat, and she nodded. “Seven, then. The eighth should be on station the day after tomorrow, but getting the ship re-provisioned will take at least a day.”
Kraada was shaking his head before Drovaa finished speaking. “This cannot wait, Marshal. It is imperative we strike while passions are high to maximize public support for this move. Doing so protects the emperor and ourselves.”
“It will not, however, protect my ships and crews if we send them in as less than a full eight.”
“And yet, it must be done,” Kraada replied.
Drovaa turned angrily toward him, but was stopped by Indraat’s voice. “The Ruby Rain can tow a re-provisioning module. It’ll slow us down, but not more than a few hours. The other ship can join us at a staging point instead of stopping here first. We can transfer the cargo upon arrival.”
Both men looked at her, considering. “Your ship is at full operating specifications?” Drovaa asked.
“Of course,” Indraat replied.
Kraada took over. “That situation is resolved, then. The next issue is our destination. Have our analysts figured out where they went?”
Drovaa shook his head, waited a beat, and gave a wicked grin. “We have something better than the analysts. The Jade Breeze tagged the ship with a marker. One of our probes has detected a trace of its signal, and all the other probes in that area have been retargeted to follow and triangulate its position when it comes to a stop.”
Kraada let out a deep breath, jettisoning a long-held worry. “It’s fitting that we’ll be able to track the ship that trespassed on our reliquary and make it the first casualty of this action.”
Indraat nodded. “And fitting that the Jade Breeze will lead the charge.”
Drovaa squinted at her. “You’re angling to be second in command, aren’t you?”
“If it serves the needs of the fleet, sir, yes,” she replied.
Kraada gave the marshal a shrug. “She’s got the experience.” Left unsaid but understood by all was that Indraat would be Kraada’s representative among the initial force.
Drovaa shrugged. “Sounds fine. All seven ships have commanders with about the same time in command, so it shouldn’t be an issue to place you at the head of the line.”
With this matter decided, Kraada dismissed Indraat to prepare her ship for departure and arrange the re-provisioning module for towing. After she left, he brought up a touchier subject. “Have you had discussions with the emperor on this subject?”
“I have.”
Drovaa’s face told Kraada all he needed to know about those conversations.
“I imagine that we’re on our own in this endeavor, unless and until it succeeds, at which time the emperor will take full credit for it?”
“You have an astute understanding of politics, my friend.”
Kraada snorted, the feathers on the top of his head spiking up. “I have an astute understanding of our emperor, at least.” The two men had agreed on many occasions that Enjaaran was not an ideal leader. They both also understood the system of family rule was not one to be challenged lightly. The last attempt—a military coup centuries before—had ended in a purge of both soldiers and civilians that discouraged further attempts.
Kraada stood and wandered the room, his wings stretching, feeling something at the tip of his mind. “What are we forgetting, Drovaa?”
Drovaa shook his head. “Nothing, Hierarch. It’s only that this is a much less predictable scenario than any we’ve faced during the many years of our friendship.” He moved over to Kraada and extended a hand. “Together, though, we will succeed regardless of the obstacles that appear in our path.”
Kraada met his eyes and shook his hand. “So may it be.”
* * *
That night, Kraada hosted Indraat to a private dinner in his quarters, served by two of his attendants. The eight, minus the one now assigned to the Jade Breeze, were all in attendance at the cathedral, and would remain so until the current crisis was resolved. Under-priests watched over their congregations as they watched over their leader. An eighth was already en route to replace Radith.
Kraada didn’t wait until the conclusion of dinner to talk about matters of import, placing the need for action ahead of civility. “I’m not positive what Drovaa will give you as a mission as you embark into alien space, but I hope you remember the
church’s stake in this at all times. I’m counting on you to be more than just a military commander.”
Indraat nodded acceptance, setting down her utensils and focusing all her attention on him. “I understand. I will do this.”
Kraada had predicted her answer, but the reassurance was welcome, for the next thing he had to ask was far more difficult a task.
“I also need you to be my eyes and ears on the front lines, and to report anything you judge important directly back to me.”
Indraat took a delaying sip of her wine, then set it down and met his gaze. “To clarify, Uncle, you’re asking me to evade the normal chain of command and feed you information in secret?” He nodded. “Done,” she said with a shrug, then picked up her utensils to resume eating.
Kraada smiled. “Just like that?”
Indraat returned the smile. “Just like that. Family, then duty, then the gods. This serves two of the three, so it must be a worthy task.”
Kraada nodded, taking her words as seriously as he would any declaration of faith. “You risk a great deal in doing so. If you’re discovered, the rules of battle say—”
“—that I will be shot as a traitor and my body launched into space, trapping my soul in this world rather than allowing it to depart for the in-between.” She nodded. “I understand the risk, Uncle. I also understand that some things are too important to leave solely in the hands of the military. That is why there is a religious officer on each ship after all.”
Kraada leaned back, appreciating her logic. “But in some circumstances, that officer cannot accomplish everything the church needs, because they’re not in command.”
“You need not convince me any further. I’ll do what needs doing.”
Kraada changed topics without warning. “What is the consensus about Marshal Drovaa?”
Indraat registered surprise, her expression quickly changing to one of thoughtfulness. “It’s not as if we talk about him much, in his own person, but he is discussed as a representative of the military high command. He’s reasonably popular, but some commanders question whether he’s aggressive enough to lead us over the enemy once we find them. Because it has been more than a decade since our last efforts at conquest, many officers only know him as a theoretical war leader, rather than an actual one.”
“Would you say there’s a belief that he may be out of touch with the current reality?”
“I would say among a small but significant portion of the commanders I encounter, that would be a true statement.”
“How do they feel about the emperor?”
“All the Navy’s commanders revere and honor our glorious emperor.” It had the sound of something delivered by rote, and the twitch of her lips reinforced that perspective.
“And when they’re talking amongst themselves, instead of to a higher-ranking individual?”
Indraat looked around as if fearing to be overheard even in this place. “In private, the opinions of our emperor rate him somewhere on a continuum between a hedonist who doesn’t care about his people on one end, and a brainless neophyte who doesn’t understand his people on the other.”
Kraada coughed into his wineglass, having chosen an inappropriate moment to take a sip. When he recovered, his laughter rang out, echoing around the room. “That,” he choked out, “is not something you should say beyond this haven, as you well know. Of course, it also happens to be hopelessly accurate.”
She laughed along with him. “I know to never breathe a word of that beyond these walls. I do value my life.”
“Niece, my instincts and meditations are telling me the same thing. We are on the verge of a great change for our people. I cannot see what form it will take, whether it be delivery to paradise through the destruction of this enemy as we all hope, or something unexpected. I ask you to keep your loyalties as you have stated them, and act as my sharp talon, invisible to the eyes of everyone but the gods.”
Indraat nodded and sank to her knees beside him. He swiveled in his chair to face her. “Uncle…Hierarch, I vow to do this thing, to be your hidden weapon, and to cleave to my promise: family, service, and the gods.”
He placed a hand on her head in benediction. “May those gods bless you and keep you ever in their sight, and protect you as you go forth to battle our enemy.”
“So may it be, Hierarch.”
Later that night, as he climbed into bed after another eternally long day, Kraada said a small prayer for the safety and success of his niece and her force who were set to depart in the morning. He prayed that she would deliver victory to them, and paradise to all Xroeshyn. “So may it be,” he whispered as sleep took him.
Chapter Sixteen
With the Washington in a repair dock, there was little for Kate to do during her hours in command. A skeleton crew occupied the bridge, with only two others sharing the watch with her. While they acquainted themselves with positions they didn’t normally operate, Kate used the sensor station and its priority computer access to learn as much as possible about their new foe. Cross had shared the admirals’ perspective with her, and Kate didn’t believe it any more than Cross and Okoye did. She’d witnessed the righteous fury blazing in the eyes of the alien commander and knew in her soul that his vow was true. He would not stop looking until the Washington and her crew were dead in space.
Cross’s guilt had to be tremendous, and she hurt for him. Immersion in work kept those feelings at bay.
She cleared the low hanging fruit, performing a quick search that revealed no encounters with sentient life of any kind since humans had reached the stars. Even the reports from the most forward colonies and starbases mentioned no sightings of unusual or unknown ships or beings. Ever. So, she’d have to start from scratch.
She reviewed the recording one still image after the next, examining everything in the foreground and background. The computer offered a high probability that the species descended from avian genes. This would have implications for how they thought, how they reacted, how they lived.
The obvious telltales of feathers and wings were clear. Less so was the computer’s calculation of their mass, which suggested bones of lesser density than her own, and possibly a continued ability to fly, at least in gravity less than Earth’s normal. For a moment, Kate wondered what their planet might be like—imagining cities in the clouds and swooping aliens. It was an appealing picture, or would be if the aliens in question weren’t trying to end her existence.
She asked the computer to analyze the shimmering skin tones of the alien. The exact composition was beyond the computer’s ability to pinpoint, but a magnified image revealed it was made up of small overlapping scales. The way colors seemed to move of their own volition across them had no clear match in Earth’s experience. Possibly the chameleon was the closest analogue, if one assumed that the hues changed intentionally or in response to some instinctual imperative, rather than at random.
She shook her head as she considered just how much they didn’t know. As she entered the next request for information on the alien, she decided it was time to quit calling them aliens. Xroeshyn is what he had called himself, so henceforth she’d use that name. The computer overlaid measurements on the image, making Kate realize that the furniture and equipment was slightly larger than human equipment and furniture. The speaker was quite tall, probably over two meters. His face and head depicted a blend of recognizable features and avian influences. Everything about him was sharp, from his mouth that inspired comparisons to a beak to the slanted eyes, set above a curving ridge of bone that started at the nose and ended at the cheekbones.
The background revealed parts of two more aliens. The computer suggested they were of similar height, but their exposed skin showed different colorations for each. In some places, the brilliant shades strained her vision, as if they straddled or exceeded the boundaries of human optical capacity.
The alien’s speech had been translated through brute-force processing. It was unlike any known language, except for having a basic
noun/verb structure that placed adjectives after the subject. But even these conclusions were suspect, because it was impossible to know how much of the result was generated by the computational equivalent of guesswork. Either way, Kate mused as she leaned back and stretched, the words seemed to match the body language and tone of the message pretty effectively.
Kate shifted her analysis to the ship itself, particularly how it moved through space. She imagined that was tied to the reason its weapons functioned during their encounter when the Washington’s didn’t. Playing back the battle sequence, she charted each influence she could see. After staring at it for at least an hour, ceaselessly demanding that it tell her its secrets, Kate sighed and took a break. She walked to the galley and made herself a comforting cup of hot cocoa through a careful application of steamed milk to real chocolate purchased on the starbase.
Her mind wandered while she sipped, savoring the blissful quiet. It was rare to be on board and not hear the thrum of the engines, which were off-line at the moment. With the ship tethered to station power while she underwent deep maintenance and repair, the engines weren’t needed to make her operational. As Kate stood, her tired hand dropped the cup, and it fell toward the deck. She got a foot under it, saving it from breaking, and stored it in the cleaning rack. She exhaled and pushed her hair out of her face with both hands.
On the way back to the bridge, she decided she probably needed to take a break and summoned another officer to stand watch in her stead. She went to the captain’s ready room and lay across three chairs, which combined to make a reasonable approximation of a cot. She fell asleep to dreams of cascading colors warping madly through an asteroid field.
* * *
When she woke up, she knew. It had been right on the tip of her mind, and the few hours of sleep she’d snagged had set it free. With navy coffee in hand, created by following the age-old recipe with maximum caffeine and bitterness, she sat at the sensor station and brought up the battle schematic playback again. She watched it through to verify that her thoughts were least plausible and was rewarded with a positive result. She wrote a quick program to map the gravitic currents in the Xroeshyn sector during their time there. After processing for a half-hour while Kate sipped her stimulant and discharged some of the paperwork associated with her command, the computer reported as ready.