“Let the Cava05 come,” sneered a Senator swathed in gold. “Our orbital defense systems can flank any approaching fleet.”
“For the core worlds,” retorted another. “What about the billions living on the outer rim?”
“They fight,” replied the first. “And they die.”
“And what if the Cava05 break through and launch ground invasion forces?” Fusar asked. “What then?”
“You won’t know this, off-worlder, but the Jaj have been protecting their homes for thousands of years,” said a Senator in lime green. “We do it better than anybody. The Cava05 will need years to root us out.”
“They don’t need years,” General Teronde said with disdain. “And you will address the Empress correctly or be thrown into a cell, Senator Azat.”
“The simians like to enslave and torture their enemies until the rest surrender,” Fusar explained patiently. “I will not let them near any Jaj world, core or otherwise.”
“Then what do you propose, Empress Majesta?” asked lime green. “Our fleet is scattered across eight systems in containment formation.”
Fusar glanced at the General.
“We’ve already begun consolidation operations,” Teronde said. “At this moment, seventy-six percent of the fleet is massed over Anscha and receiving troop ships.”
“Then it’s well underway,” muttered lime green. “An embarrassing wind-down if today hadn’t gone to plan, eh General?”
“Thankfully for the Empire, Fusar Majesta is now in power.”
No one could say anything to that. Once again, Fusar was immensely relieved to have General Teronde by her side. It would have been a harrowing experience to face these conniving Senators alone.
“The Empress is yet to brief me on the finer details of our attack,” the General went on. “But I am forming a strategy that could well break the simian blockade around Jaj systems.”
Fusar looked at Teronde and nodded. They’d said enough. The Senators had been welcomed and acknowledged. Now it was time to govern. Fusar didn’t need to consult the Senate in times of war, and just as well. She had no intention of ruling a dictatorship, but the Jaj Empire was already years behind in its preparations.
“That will be all, gentlemen,” General Teronde said firmly.
70
The Senators left with as much dignity as they could muster. Fusar couldn’t help but notice the occasional hostile glance. If she somehow survived the coming war, she’d have a minefield to negotiate.
“If you please, Your Excellency,” Teronde said quietly, ushering Fusar to a simple wooden table behind the throne.
“I’ve taken the liberty of engaging a coms unit,” he said.
Fusar could see a row of pale blue data goggles in the dim light at the rear of the hall.
“They can relay orders from here?” Fusar asked.
Teronde nodded. “My officers are live at Anscha.”
“What’s your plan, General?”
“As you might have heard, the Jaj are not famous for their technological innovation.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Fusar said with a grin.
Teronde cleared his throat before continuing. “However, we have been working on something that might serve. Deep space buoys. They can be ghost-fired through any blockade and appear at the rear of the enemy.”
“Cloaking technology?”
“Not quite - emulation tech. These projectiles have been coded to look and move like meteorites. Once deployed, secondary programming kicks in, delivering the mother of all emulations - a battle-ready Jaj warship.”
Fusar considered that for a moment. The concept of an “emulation buoy” wasn’t exactly new in the world of fleet warfare, but it might just work in this case. One, the Jaj weren’t expected to roll out technology of this kind, and two, all they needed was a small window of distraction in order to prepare for drift space.
“Will the Cava05 fall for it?” Fusar asked. “They’ve seen this kind of thing before.”
The General bristled. “We’ve covered every conceivable angle. These emulation buoys are coded for everything from prop flare to the minute weight redistribution of a garbage dump. The Cava05 will believe they’re being flanked. For a few minutes anyway.”
Fusar nodded. “When will you be in a position to launch?”
Teronde consulted his wrist pad. “Seven hours and counting. Not much time.”
“Not at all,” Fusar mused, deep in thought.
“General,” said one of the coms officers. “I have something from the Beish system.”
“Report.”
“Two Cava05 node ships are deploying troops over Beish III. Our salt extraction facility is at risk.”
“How many troops are stationed there?” the General barked.
“Eighty-nine active personnel,” came the reply.
“They know we have a new Empress,” Teronde muttered darkly. “So they’ve decided to make the first move.”
“Smart,” Fusar said. “We need to withdraw to the Anscha moon for launch.”
“It shall be done,” the General said. “But I need to know what happens after we fall from drift space.”
Fusar paused, unsure whether to reveal her plans. She felt she could trust Teronde, but there were many other ears in the room. If the Cava05 got wind of their plan, everything was lost.
“Leave us,” the General intoned coldly.
The coms officers left silently, like wraiths. Fusar couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by the discipline Teronde imposed.
“The Hall has been screened,” he said. “You may talk freely, Empress.”
“We’re going after the Embank facility,” Fusar said, testing the General’s knowledge. His expression gave nothing away.
“Do we have a location?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Fusar conceded. “But we should be able to find it with a long range geological survey.”
“Sounds like a long shot to me,” Teronde said, and Fusar felt every inch of his disappointment. He was risking everything on this offensive, and needed more information.
“The Embank is powered on refined onbantium,” Fusar said.
The General raised his eyebrows. “Rare mineral. Probably has a unique spectral signature.”
“Exactly,” Fusar said hopefully.
The General seemed to weigh the plan before nodding curtly.
“It’s all we have,” he said, looking her in the eye. “And it just might work.”
Jake was out to the world but in a stable condition. Mandie had been by his side since the Trial and looked in dire need of some kind of stimulant.
“Take a step outside,” Fusar urged. “Go have a frisson stick or something.”
“I don’t do that stuff anymore,” Mandie said with a weak smile. “Well, not since I met Jake, anyway.”
But she agreed to stretch her legs for a bit, leaving Fusar alone with the man who almost lost his life fighting for her.
“Are you in there, Jake?” she asked softly, doing her best not to look at the stump where his right hand had been. Behind him, an Advanced Medical Interface (AMI) fussed over his vital signs and made sure the nasty gash at his temple wasn’t infected. With the best available medical care, Jake’s prospects of a full recovery were good. Given time.
Fusar dispatched a steward to go fetch an Imperial doctor. A youngish Jaj with keen eyes dutifully reported.
“How soon can this man be fit for duty?” Fusar asked.
“He took quite a beating,” came the reply. “One to two weeks.”
“Then two days at the most,” Fusar said. “This isn’t your average patient, doctor.”
The Jaj bowed in acquiescence, though he clearly doubted Fusar’s hypothesis.
“Is he well enough to travel in an inter-orbital shuttle?”
The doctor frowned. “I wouldn’t recommend it, but if it were an emergency -”
“It is.”
“Then I can arrange it, Your Excellency.
We’re going to war?”
Fusar nodded.
“Then I will accompany him myself. I should like to conduct the surgery.”
“Surgery?”
“To replace his hand, Empress.”
“Run me through the options.”
“There are three. A high quality cybernetic hand is the first option. This is standard procedure for many injured paladins and is available only to the military and the upper echelon of Jaj society. The second option is the use of a utility node. This will convert the appendage into a utility tool which may include weaponry and hacking devices. My own creation. The third option is available only to the Emperor and his inner circle. This hand is custom-forged from soft platinum. Rather dense. Fine-scale movement is possible, but the extra weight isn’t for everyone.”
“We want that one,” Fusar said without hesitation. “No expense spared, doctor.”
The Jaj bowed again and left to organize Jake’s transfer. While Fusar waited for Mandie to return, she received a summons from General Teronde. That promised to be a common occurrence over the next few days. Leaving Jake in the hands of a trusted Barras steward, she dutifully reported to a conference room the General had set up as a command center. He cleared everyone from the room when she entered.
“Are we going to do that every time?” Fusar asked with a wry smile.
Teronde failed to see the joke. “Security is everything, Empress. While you were gone I ran an inventory on the military strength we can bring to bear. A shade over forty thousand paladins can be deployed, provided they receive adequate protection en route.”
Fusar was heartened by the news. If they could reach the Embank, she could imagine such a force assaulting the most heavily guarded facility in the Cavan05 Technocracy.
“The problem will be getting them safely to the ground,” she mused.
“Precisely,” Teronde said. “Or warships are pugnacious but cannot hope to go head-to-head with the superior Cavan node ships. Their space-faring tech is far superior to ours. You can blame your predecessor for that. We have not invested in our fleet for decades.”
“The price of apathy,” Fusar said with more than a trace of bitterness. “Any solutions?”
“All good soldiers seek allies for the trenches. My analysts suggest the Aegisi Republic might be able to assist in disrupting the Cavan defensive line. We just need enough time to deploy troops over the Embank facility.”
“That makes sense,” Fusar said. “I wish the Nostroma were able to enter the fray.”
Teronde shook his head. “They’ve been decimated. Now that the Milkmen have the Caravan of Light, the Nostroma have been scattered far and wide.”
“Can we draw on human resources? Irian? Lizard?”
The General snorted. “Backwater settlements at best. Their glory days are either long past or yet to come.”
Fusar couldn’t argue with that. Still, it would’ve been something to go into battle with the downtrodden lizards. That reminded her - in all the chaos of the day she hadn’t once though of Bullhead. But there she was, Empress Majesta. Someone who could do something about that foul place.
“General, make preliminary contact with the Aegisi,” she said. “I also need you to withdraw all troops from Bullhead and release the prisoners.”
“Your Excellency, I -”
“No arguments,” Fusar said, not caring how harsh it sounded. “There are resources and facilities at Grode Airbase. Pull the garrison and allow the prisoners access to the base until we can re-settle them.”
Teronde looked at her incredulously. “You’d abandon an entire airbase?”
“Not only that, if we survive the coming offensive I plan to turn the surviving lizards into a crack fighting unit. On a voluntary basis, of course.”
Now that made Teronde shake his head in disbelief, but Fusar didn’t care. If she had anything to do with it, the Jaj Empire would begin righting the wrongs that had contributed to its gradual decline.
“I will do as you say, Your Excellency.”
“Thank you, General. From where will we be leaving?”
“I’ve organized a detachment of shuttles to land directly within the Zigurat. We will be leaving with the bulk of the paladins stationed here. If I may ask - who shall rule as Regent whilst we’re away?”
“Yerto Barras,” Fusar said immediately. “You may inform him now.”
On the way back to the medical facility, Fusar found a quiet room in which to digest the titanic events of the day. Things had happened too quickly to feel solid or real. She doubted she’d get enough time to process her new situation for several weeks. All she could do was remember to breathe and stick to the original plan. Defeat the Cava05, if that was at all possible, and find a cure for the bio-toxin that was devastating her people.
Jake had woken by the time she got to him. Mandie was feeding him a heady concoction of fermented local vegetables and strong stimulants. Whatever it was, it seemed to re-animate his body.
“There she is,” he drawled in his imitable way, drinking Fusar in with a sly smile. “Head boss lady round these parts.”
“Shut your mouth,” Fusar said, laying a long, affectionate kiss on his cheek. “It’s hard enough as it is without your sarcastic commentary.”
“Do I detect a little sass?” Jake said, nudging Mandie. “Is the Empress givin’ me some sass?”
Fusar chuckled despite herself.
“Well, you seem chipper,” she said. “I thought we’d lost you.”
Jake shrugged. “Can’t remember much. Just doin’ my job.”
Fusar threw a pillow at him. “Are you fucking serious? You mean to tell me you weren’t the slightest bit scared?”
“That’s a trade secret, Fusar,” Jake said. “As such I cannot divulge.”
The pair laughed, and all of a sudden Fusar felt like she was home again.
“A shuttle will be coming for us,” she said. “I’ve arranged to have you transferred with me.”
“Congratulations, you have avoided my wrath,” Jake said pleasantly, finishing his bowl. “And who’s up for seconds?”
The trio talked quietly for the next hour, poring over the logistics of their planned offensive. Fusar outlined General Teronde’s plan to use emulation buoys. Jake and Mandie nodded approvingly, keen to reach deep space as soon as possible.
“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through today,” Jake said, leaning over and wrapping Fusar in a bear hug. “You done well, kid. Better than I ever could.”
“I doubt that,” Fusar said evenly. “I mean, who sacrifices their fucking hand in order to win a duel? Next time you get a dumbass idea like that, ask me first?”
This time it was Jake who chuckled out loud - a rare sound indeed.
“Doc told me what’s in store,” Jake said. “Reckon you knew exactly what I’d want. I appreciate that, sweetheart.”
“Just watch where you swing it,” Fusar said. “It’s platinum, after all.”
Fusar spent the next few hours swatting away requests from various Ebessa Senators. Some of them were tangled up in petty local affairs and seemed oblivious to the wider crisis. Fusar promised to look into domestic concerns on her return.
It was high time she installed Yerto Barras as her Regent. Apparently he was recovering from mild injuries in the medical facility. By the time Fusar reached him, she’d worked up a rising tide of anger.
Barras looked like he’d aged several years. His arms were covered in a lattice of cuts and bruises.
“Silvius tortured you, didn’t he?” she demanded.
“It was mild, Empress,” Barras said soothingly. “Trust me, I’ve seen a lot worse. Silvius was investigating me for treason. I might have done the same in his position.”
“I’m just glad you’re alive,” Fusar said darkly. “Otherwise I would fear for Clan Frajaa.”
Barras held her hand. “I appreciate that, Empress. Now - tell me what I can do for you.”
Fusar looked plaintively at the o
lder Jaj. “Can you be me while I’m gone?”
A wide grin spread across that gnarled face.
“Of course. Nothing would make me happier.”
“We’re lifting off in less than two hours,” Fusar said, glancing nervously at her wrist pad. “The Cava05 have begun their invasion of the outer rim. I’ll have the General’s intelligence corps brief you.”
Barras looked at Fusar in wonder.
“Fusar,” he said quietly. “We did it.”
She smiled at the old Jaj with genuine affection.
“It’s all down to you,” she said. “I’m so glad we met, Yerto.”
“Don’t worry about this place while you’re gone,” Barras said. “I suspect we share similar politics. Birds of a feather, one might say.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Fusar said. “I’ll have a coms officer send hourly reports from the front.”
“Fare well, farlen,” Barras said with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re becoming quite a juggernaut. I fear for those simians.”
According to Palace’s head steward, Silvius Frajaa would take days to vacate his Imperial quarters. That was fine with Fusar, who just needed a hot shower and a new set of utility suits. At the mention of the latter, the steward went into a panic, dispatching several of his underlings to acquire fitted Imperial suits customized to Fusar’s specifications.
She waited in a plush guest suite on the upper levels of the Palace. She even found a minute to gaze through the open window across the leafy gardens of the Zigurat. Beyond that, a huge scarlet flag flapped lazily in Hero’s Square in downtown Ebessa. There was every chance a purple Cavan flag would be hoisted there if she couldn’t pull off her risky offensive.
Needing a distraction from her dark thoughts, she pinged Mandie with her wrist pad.
“I’ve got some nice digs,” she said playfully. “Come up if you need a new utility suit. Otherwise I’ll see you on the shuttle.”
Smiling, Fusar killed the connection. In the silence of the guest room she’d never felt more alone.
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