Once inside the cockpit, she sealed the door and made certain it was locked. The shuttle was empty of other people, but she wanted to be doubly certain she was in a secure, soundproof environment and anyone who might come looking for her would be unable to disturb her. From there, she activated the comms system and began the long process of connecting to the appropriate channel and applying the many layers of encryption protocol which were used to secure any and all communication between her and the Master.
She did not know if the Master would even answer the call; no doubt the Master was often busy with much to manage and could not always be sitting there waiting to listen to Captain Valentine’s every whim and question. Still, sending the message felt like the right thing to do, so, once the channel was appropriately connected, she transmitted.
“The Forum is at an impasse. Both the Primary and the Secondary appear to have garnered significant support,” she said into the mic. “And there are other voices too to which the Forum is listening. I request instructions on how to proceed. I do not wish to act against your wishes. As things are progressing here, I believe your suspicions have proven correct.” She waited, uncertain if the Master would reply. If not, at least she had communicated to the Master her desire to serve the Master’s will.
“It was not difficult to predict,” came the reply in that same disguised voice. “All signs were there.”
Captain Valentine felt a rush of anxiety as she always did when speaking to the Master. “If things continue to go as they are, there may be conflict.”
“There will be conflict; it is inevitable. But the conflict will be swift,” said the Master. “Understand I favor the Primary over the Secondary in this conflict. Those other voices will soon prove irrelevant. Be ready and see to it my wishes are fulfilled.”
“Yes, of course,” said Captain Valentine. It was not the response she had expected from the Master, but then again she had not known what to expect. “If I might trouble the Master with one question…?”
“Ask.”
“Why does the Master prefer the Primary over the Secondary?”
“The words of the Secondary are air of the wind and shall be made swiftly irrelevant. Only the Primary matters. I favor the primary. Make the arrangements.”
“It will be done,” said Captain Valentine, knowing this request would be difficult to fulfill, but not impossible. The transmission ended and she rushed to unlock the cockpit, desperate to see to it that the Master’s arrangements were dutifully fulfilled before it was too late.
***
The moment had arrived. White Rook stepped forward to announce her judgment. With any luck, she will choose wisely, thought Raidan. If she does, a lot of chaos and bloodshed can be avoided.
“I have heard the arguments,” White Rook’s voice boomed through the concourse. “I have listened patiently. Captain Asari Raidan suggests we make a bold move. Mira Pellew asks for one even bolder. The Group Leaders seem divided on the issue. And now it falls to me, the leader of our Organization, to decide. And I say…it is too risky!”
Raidan felt like he’d been punched in the gut. After all the diplomacy, the speeches, and the attempts at persuasion, White Rook was still going to insist on making things as hard and as painful as possible.
“We shall aid Kalila Akira in her battles, but that is all we shall do,” continued White Rook. “That is all we can do.”
Mira Pellew gave Raidan a dark look, and he saw the corner of her lip was slightly raised, as if she fought a smile. Of course she’s happy, he thought. This was the outcome she'd wanted all along.
“Well?” she asked, expectantly as White Rook continued her speech—advocating for her strategy which would certainly lead to failure and defeat.
Raidan nodded. It was time; there was no longer any choice. He raised his hand, palm open, and then quickly clenched it into a fist, signaling his men. Mira took several steps away from him and signaled her people too. Hers acted first.
The sound of muffled gunshots echoed in the concourse, and the honor guards surrounding White Rook each dropped to the ground simultaneously, dead from sniper fire. White Rook stopped speaking and looked panicked. There was a collective gasp and then chaotic chattering filled the concourse.
Raidan’s soldiers surrounded White Rook and grabbed her by the arms, dragging her away.
“The time has come,” said Raidan, raising the volume on his microphone to maximum, so he could be heard over the chaotic panic. “For new leadership of this Organization. For strong leadership. Leadership which will end this war and save this Empire! I have…” he stopped as he heard another gunshot, this one not expected. It took White Rook in the head and she fell limp in Raidan’s soldiers’ arms. They looked as confused as he was. Then more gunshots followed, and Raidan’s soldiers, who were there to escort White Rook away, safely to her internment, began to fall.
Raidan looked to Mira, who had sprinted quite a distance away. She was giving instructions to her men around her while her snipers had opened fire on Raidan’s people. She’d turned on him the instant he ceased to be useful to her, just as he’d always suspected.
Raidan drew his handgun, pointed it in Mira’s direction and fired, snapping off three quick shots. He took one of her men in the leg, but the other two missed.
He heard a whistle zip past him and he realized he himself was under fire, no doubt from those damn snipers. He retreated a few steps before his men grabbed him, surrounded him, and began escorting him away from the concourse, trying to get him to safety. As he left the room, he heard Mira addressing the crowd, which was obviously panicked and confused.
“Today is the day the Organization ceases to be weak! Today we are reborn. Strong, under my leadership. Under our new flagship, the Harbinger. That ship shall lead and all of you shall follow and together we will end this war!”
On top of the yelling and screaming, Raidan actually heard some cheering. Then he was out of the room and in the corridor. He and his men were sprinting toward the nearest hangar, where he knew two shuttles were waiting. They met up with Tristan on the way.
“Are the shuttles prepped?” asked Raidan.
“I only had time to prep one of them before those gunshots happened,” the Lycan replied. “For additional security, I have your name registered to the other one, but we’re taking the shuttle I prepped.”
“Good thinking,” said Raidan, though he doubted Mira would fall for such a ruse. The shuttles would be the most vulnerable part of this, being unarmed small transports, but Mira suffered from the same vulnerability, as she no doubt sped toward her own shuttles.
“Did you contact the ship?” asked Raidan.
“Yes, sir,” said Tristan, pulling out a handheld short range transmitter.
“Tell the men Omega Protocol is in place. They are to turn their weapons on Mira’s people and eliminate them. No quarter will be asked or given.”
***
Mira raced to get to the Harbinger before Raidan. She knew whoever took control of the Harbinger’s Bridge would control the ship, and whoever controlled the ship, which was the de facto flagship of the Organization, would be seen by the other Group Leaders as the new power inside the Organization.
That person, she had it on excellent authority, would be the one to step in and fill the vacuum left by White Rook’s capture. Raidan was racing her there, she knew. That damned old fool would ruin all of her plans if he could. She would not let him, which was why she’d made proper arrangements to ensure her success and his failure. With any luck, had her people come through for her, Raidan would not even make it back to the ship at all. But, failing that, she’d left a great many of her people aboard the Harbinger, had swung much of its crew to her side, and been using her network of influence for months to steer these arrangements this direction.
She’d licked a finger and tested the winds and knew a change of leadership was coming. Just as she’d been assured by the one at the top, the real source of power behind the Organiz
ation, that White Rook would have to be removed, and in her absence there would be new, better, stronger leadership. Leadership which, through brutal but necessary tactics, could end the civil war and thereby save the Empire. Mira had always known the best person to do that job was herself and she’d be damned if she let Raidan, who had proven as cowardly and as conservative as White Rook, beat her to the punch.
I will prevail, she told herself as her shuttle left the asteroid and made a beeline for the Harbinger’s docking bay. I must prevail. The future of humanity depends on me.
It was an old cliché that a person must break a few eggs to make an omelet. She had never particularly cared for the metaphor, but it would prove true, once she took the reins of the Organization. There would be sacrifices, and humans who would be forced to suffer and die. But it was to prove a point to the Empire; it would be for the greater good and from their sacrifice she would bring back the unity the Empire so desperately needed. History might remember her as a bloody maniac, but Mira would always know the truth behind her actions. She was the savior of the Empire, the only one willing to act when all others stood idly by awaiting their dark fates.
The first sacrifice would necessarily be Raidan himself. He'd proven a useful ally for a time, but now his usefulness to her had ended and he remained her only rival. He stood in the way of progress and so would have to be eliminated, immediately.
“Coming up on the docking bay,” said her pilot. “Putting in a request to dock.”
“Hurry up,” she said. “Time is of the essence!”
***
“Almost there, almost there,” said Raidan, watching the Harbinger loom large out the window. “Can’t you make this damn thing go any faster?”
“I’m flying her as fast as I can, sir,” said the pilot.
Raidan looked out each of the windows, frustrated he couldn’t see Mira’s shuttles anywhere. He worried she’d arrived first. In every direction, all he could see were stars, the Harbinger, and his second shuttle, which also soared fast toward the Harbinger right off their starboard flank.
“Once we get there,” said Raidan to Tristan. “We’ll need to affirm control of the ship. That means the Bridge and Engineering, at the very least. If we control those, we control the Harbinger. And if we control the Harbinger…”
“We control the Organization,” said Tristan.
“Exactly,” said Raidan. With White Rook gone there was a momentary vacuum of power, but Raidan knew the other Group Leaders and understood they followed strength. Now the only symbol of strength which remained was the Harbinger itself, and he and Mira had both cast themselves as the new leader of the Organization. Only one of them would prove to be right.
“We’ll have to split up then, at first,” said Tristan. “I’ll take a team and you take a team. With any luck we’ll run into a lot of friendlies along the way.”
“We’d better,” said Raidan, counting on his loyal crew to remain loyal, even though he knew Mira and her followers had made deep inroads among the people who served aboard the Harbinger. Enough so, Raidan had to give bribes and make threats to some of the most influential officers in order to retain their loyalty. No doubt Mira had done the same thing.
“Whoever takes Engineering can do a clean sweep of it, lock it down, and then go to the Bridge to reinforce the other team,” suggested Tristan.
“I agree,” said Raidan. “And let’s not forget, Mira Pellew will be at one of those two locations if she made it aboard the ship first, which I suspect she has. If we can take her out, or capture her, then this little insurrection will be put to bed once and for all.”
“She’ll be at the Bridge,” said Tristan. “The Bridge is the symbol of command; that’s where she will gravitate. It’s her nature.”
“It is her nature,” agreed Raidan, though he was not entirely convinced. It was also Mira’s nature to be unpredictable.
“In that case, we should both rush the Bridge, together, and take her out. With her gone, we won’t need Main Engineering; her people will be forced to give in. You know, chop the head off the snake and all that.”
It did sound like a good plan. But it was exactly the sort of plan Mira would be expecting. “She could very well be in Main Engineering,” said Raidan.
Tristan looked doubtful.
“Think about it. She knows we expect her to be on the Bridge. She’s not the type to put herself in the way of bullets she knows are coming. Instead, she could be sealing Main Engineering right now and rallying the rest of the crew loyal to her, gathering an army in the lower decks.” The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that was her game.
“I suppose it is possible,” said Tristan.
“You have to take Engineering,” said Raidan. “Let me deal with the Bridge.”
“I’ll take Engineering and seal it off; after that I’ll race to the Bridge to support you. Hopefully, you’ll have it well in hand.”
“Don’t worry,” said Raidan, feeling determined as hell. “I will.”
There was a bright flash out the starboard window, vanishing almost as quickly as it appeared. Raidan looked out the window; they all did. The second shuttle was gone, leaving behind a spray of debris. Some of it slammed into their shuttle.
“God damn her,” said Raidan, thinking about the dozen men of his who had been on that shuttle. “We registered my name to that shuttle, so she wired a bomb to it. Honestly, that was sloppy of her; she should have seen through the ruse and bombed this shuttle instead.”
“She did wire a bomb to this shuttle,” said Tristan, pulling out ignition wires from his pockets. “I disabled the damn thing, but it was there. Still is, actually.”
She was proving to be one step ahead in everything; in the concourse, her snipers managed to take out half the men in Raidan’s delegation and very nearly Raidan himself. And now she’d wired bombs to the shuttles, one of which had successfully wiped out more of her competition. Raidan wondered what surprise she had for him next and found himself deeply worried that, despite his campaign of bribes and threats, she had somehow swayed the majority of the crew against him.
“Now you know what I meant when I said I only had time to prep one of the shuttles,” said Tristan. “I would've searched the other for bombs too, had I the time.”
“We can mourn them later,” said Raidan. “Right now we need to concentrate on our plan, or else we’ll be the ones needing mourning.”
The shuttle docked with the Harbinger and the airlocks opened, allowing them to exit through the jet bridge.
“Move, move, move,” said Raidan to his men. They filed out first, then Raidan, and Tristan brought up the rear.
As they made their way cautiously through the hangar, they found it was empty of people, which was simultaneously a good and bad thing. Mira’s shuttles were docked, which meant she had in fact beaten them here and could have arranged an ambush in the hangar and had not. But on the other side of the coin, Raidan had asked several of his men to be waiting here for him, in force. Either they’d changed allegiances or been wiped out. They did find some blood on the deck, but no bodies. Mira’s people had dragged the corpses away, no doubt to deprive Raidan of the knowledge of whose people had been lost and how many.
“They can’t be too far ahead,” said Raidan, once they were clear of the hangar. “Tristan, take these three and capture Main Engineering. The rest of you, with me.”
“Yes, sir!” His people obeyed. Sending only four people to Main Engineering seemed like a paltry force, but Raidan knew how ferocious Tristan was; he probably didn’t need any men at all. Raidan had a feeling when he got to the Bridge he would be glad he'd brought the bulk of his soldiers with him.
Chapter 23
Sir Reginald watched the blackness vanish, replaced by stars. His flight crew reported the successful completion of their alteredspace exit.
“Sir, we have arrived in Ophiuchus system.”
A glance at the 3D display showed his ship surrounded by countl
ess other smaller ones and more appearing with every second. These ships were his charges. Sir Reginald led a greatly reinforced Rook Squadron, in the name of the queen, to defend Ophiuchus system. Without wanting to admit favoritism, it was quietly known that Kalila prized Ophiuchus above all her other core worlds because of its bounty of badly needed resources, and so she’d given Sir Reginald the great honor of defending it, along with every ship she could possibly spare and then some.
It was an impressive force, one-hundred and sixteen ships strong, including: his personal flagship, the dreadnought, ISS Renown, twenty battleships, thirty-five frigates, and forty corvettes, along with twenty support ships and around a hundred starfighters.
“Sir, we are being hailed by the main platform.”
“Accept transmission,” he commanded.
The picture of a sixty-something year old man with trimmed, grizzled hair and a blue-and-black uniform appeared, along with the rank insignia for First Commodore. His eyes were red and his face showed stress marks and creases; Sir Reginald doubted the commodore had gotten a proper night’s sleep in over a week.
“Ophiuchus One to Renown,” said the commodore, allowing a small sense of relief to appear on his face. “You’re certainly a sight for sore eyes.”
“I’m just glad we got here in time, Commodore,” said Sir Reginald.
“It will be an honor to serve with the likes of you, My Lord,” said the commodore, no doubt recognizing Sir Reginald and wanting to give justice to his station.
“The honor is mine,” said Sir Reginald. Despite being a Knight Commander and one of the queen’s most trusted, Sir Reginald did not truly believe himself superior to the high officers of the service, contrary to his titles.
“You flatter me, sir,” said the commodore. “And, if you will forgive my candor, your flotilla makes for an impressive vanguard, a damned impressive one, but I cannot help asking, where is the rest of the fleet?”
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