“Not if we destroy the evidence so completely that there is nothing for them to find. Or perhaps we should deliberately crash the vessel into a large asteroid, make it appear that the crew made a fatal piloting mistake. Stranger things have happened in asteroid fields.”
“I suppose…” said Summers reluctantly.
“Honestly the best thing we could do would be to leave the prisoners on their ship and let their failing life-support finish them off. They’re of no use to us anymore.”
“That is completely out of the question,” snapped Summers.
Pellew’s eyes probed hers. As if testing. After a moment, he nodded. “You’re right, the battle-damage on the ship would still give away that something had gone down and the Enclave would be just as suspicious. We’ll have to destroy the ship. Either run it into an asteroid or blow it into such small pieces they would defy detection.”
She wasn’t convinced. There had to be something more they could do than search for Zander. Too much was at stake. But Summers found herself at a loss, at least for now. And she’d wasted too much time sitting in Pellew’s office. It was time to take action.
“We know the make of Zander’s ship and a few places he makes port,” said Summers. “We should send that information to the Queen immediately. Maybe she can put all of her ships on alert, make some sort of dragnet to scour Imperial space. We should tell Calvin too.”
“And Raidan?” Pellew looked at her.
“Raidan too,” Summers said, despite the unpalatable taste that formed in her mouth when she said his name. “Everyone needs to know. So everyone can be looking. Everyone we trust not to tip Zander off, that is.” It felt strange to connect the words trust and Raidan. But at least she could be reasonably sure that, despite whatever plans Raidan had, he wasn’t working with Zander. And he didn’t want the isotome weapons to exist anymore than she did.
At least that’s what she told herself…
***
“Jump successful,” said Rafael. “We’re now in alteredspace. Maximum safe potential.”
“Excellent,” said Calvin as he adjusted some controls to improve their alteredspace stability. It was a strange, almost haunting sensation to stare out the cockpit and see total darkness in every direction. Knowing all that separated him from alteredspace was a thin layer of transparent material that, despite being stronger than steel, seemed like nothing. Like it wasn’t even there.
It was just as strange to think they were tearing through galactic space at full keel when it looked and felt in every way like they weren’t moving at all. Like the fighter-bomber was a mere insect trapped in an endless ocean of black, sticky tar. It was far from his first alteredspace flight, but somehow being in the cockpit of such a tiny craft, he felt that much closer to the unnerving starless emptiness. And he wondered if this was what death was like.
“So are you going to tell me why we’re going to Aleator, or are you going to make me guess?” asked Rafael.
Calvin had chosen to remain tight-lipped about his plan, and the arrangements he’d made, until they were clear from the Black Swan and away from the queen’s fleet. But now he was at liberty to open up. And if he and Rafael were to have any chance of success with this mission, he knew they would need to trust each other implicitly. Fortunately Rafael had already proven himself a hundred times over, as far as Calvin was concerned.
“We’re going to Aleator so we can get help from the Roscos.”
“Aren’t they a family of gangsters?” asked Rafael, sounding more curious than critical.
“Yes they are,” said Calvin. “And remember that when we’re there. We need to watch each other’s backs.”
“I understand. So, how are they able to help us with our mission, exactly?”
“The Roscos have connections inside the Alliance. Not great connections, but more than you and I have. They can tell us what they’ve heard from their people, give us some kind of picture of what to expect when we get there, and they can help furnish us with the means to slip inside Alliance space unnoticed. Give us a ship, new identities, and an alibi.”
“That would be really helpful,” said Rafael. “Since I get the feeling that, if we show up uninvited to Alliance space in an Imperial fighter-bomber… the Alliance military might not react favorably.”
Calvin knew that was true. Which was why, should the Roscos fail to supply him with a more suitable ship, he and Rafael would have to pin their very lives on the meager hope that the fighter-bomber was small enough to escape notice. Though Calvin understood the chances were overwhelmingly against them. Which was why he needed to make certain Grady delivered on his promises.
“I remember we went to Aleator not too long ago,” said Rafael, apparently wanting to make conversation. “When we were pursuing the Harbinger. I know you and a team went aboard. I also heard through the grapevine that you ran into some trouble.”
Calvin recalled the roar of gunfire that had echoed through the corridors of Aleator One, and the pale face of his slain ghost lying in a pool of his own blood. Having died in the performance of his duty, trying to protect Calvin. He’d been a special forces soldiers… what was his name? Calvin felt awful that he didn’t remember. He thought of the other bodies that had littered the floor of Aleator One—Jacobi and the CERKO soldiers. A lot of people had ventured into the great beyond that day.
“It’s a dangerous place,” was all Calvin felt like saying in response. So he changed the subject, knowing they had more work to do. “We need to get a message out to the Nighthawk, through a secure channel. Set up—” he was interrupted by a series of beeps from Rafael’s controls behind him. “What is it?”
“Looks like they beat you to it,” said Rafael. “Message coming in, source confirmed: IWS Nighthawk.”
“Patch it through,” said Calvin. Curious why they would be calling him. He supposed it must be urgent if they had gone through the trouble of getting the fighter-bomber’s kataspace credentials from the Black Swan. His curiosity was definitely piqued.
“IWS Nighthawk to multi-role support craft Theta-Theta-One-Nine-Six,” Summers’ familiar voice crackled over the speakers. Calvin couldn’t help but smile when he heard it. “Please identify, over.”
She wants to make certain it really is me, thought Calvin. “It’s damn good to hear your voice, Summers,” said Calvin. It occurred to him that he hadn’t spoken to her since boarding the Ice Maiden. It made him miss the Nighthawk all the more.
“Hello, Lieutenant Commander,” said Summers in a tone that was made to sound surly, but he could tell she was secretly happy to hear him too. “If your voice didn’t give you away, your lack of kataspace protocol certainly would have,” she added.
Same old Summers. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” asked Calvin. He decided he would wait to hear her news first before sharing his message.
“We are currently pursuing a man named Zander who is thought to have the isotome weapons in his possession. I am transmitting to you the make of his suspected ship and a list of ports and systems he is known to frequent. My intention is to intercept him and destroy the weapons before it’s too late.”
“What do you mean, ‘before it’s too late? Before what’s too late?” Calvin hoped she meant that in general terms, that she wanted to destroy the weapons before anyone could even contemplate using them, but he feared she had knowledge of a more imminent threat. That some intel had revealed a star system was marked for death and it was a race against time to save the many inhabitants. Calvin couldn’t help but imagine the screams of billions of people suddenly thrown behind a curtain of death as their local sun violently destroyed itself, taking them with it.
“Our intelligence indicates that Zander plans to transfer the weapons to the Enclave.”
“And the Enclave will give the weapons to the Rotham military,” said Calvin glumly. Remembering that had been their enemies’ original plan, back on Remus Nine. He was certain the promise of star-destroying weapons had been the currency the
Enclave had used to purchase Rotham help in fulfilling whatever dark design they had for Tybur and the rest of the Alliance.
“We don’t know if it’s for the Rotham military for sure,” said Summers, though she didn’t sound hopeful.
“But, if you had to make a bet on it…”
“It does seem like a reasonable possibility,” Summers admitted.
“And you can bet if the Rotham military gets their claws on those weapons, they’re going to use them,” said Calvin. “And probably against us.”
“Yes,” admitted Summers, almost weakly.
“Thanks for the update,” said Calvin. It sunk in again exactly how massively important the Nighthawk’s current mission was, and that gave him second thoughts about his plan to divert them temporarily to Aleator so he could borrow some of the crew and supplies. If that delay, however slight, proved to be the difference between intercepting the isotome weapons and not, the price would prove far too dear.
“I only hope next time I contact you, it is with better news,” said Summers, sounding forlorn but stubbornly undefeated.
“This Zander,” said Calvin. “Do you know where he is going to be? Are you en route to intercept him?”
“Unfortunately no,” said Summers. “We have that list of places I mentioned, ports and so forth, and the queen has made arrangements to keep eyes on each of them… but, until we get some inkling of a lead, we’re just sitting here waiting. Holding our breath that Zander’s ship will be sighted.”
As he listened, Calvin scanned through the list of places she’d sent him. Starbases, stations, and supply yards where Zander was known to make port. Most of them were civilian owned and operated, very few were military outposts, and almost all were around fringe worlds near the DMZ. In fact, the majority were not truly that far from Aleator…
“That is all the news I have for now,” said Summers. “Good luck to you, Calvin.” It was clear she was about to close the channel.
“Summers, wait,” said Calvin. He debated one last time if he should risk diverting the Nighthawk to Aleator or not.
“Yes?”
Calvin decided to go for it. “Set course for Aleator, I’ll meet you there. It isn’t too far away from any of the outposts on this list, so if you get word that Zander’s been seen then of course you have to immediately change course and pursue that lead. But in the meantime, while we’re all just waiting, you should make for Aleator.”
“Okay,” said Summers, sounding guarded and curious in equal measure. “Why Aleator?”
“I’ll explain in person.”
Chapter 13
“…and from this position, I accept the solemn charge to defend the Empire and all her citizens. To do whatever is necessary to preserve our glorious union! Whether you are a worker in the Kisho Mining Belt or a trader braving the stormy tempests of deep space; whether you are a grower raising food from the farm worlds of Gennaiodoria or a laborer toiling in the shipyards of Pisceous Major, you have my solemn word. My fervent pledge. I shall watch over you. From the farthest reaches to the innermost core systems, from the endless stretches of The Corridor to the bustling skyways of Capital World, I shall protect and defend you. I shall serve you and guide you. I shall end this civil war. You have my promise and my vow, as guardian of our civilization. As the Steward of the Empire, I shall guide our fleets to victory, I shall restore order, I shall serve justice upon our enemies both at home and abroad. And out of that justice, I shall return the peace. The time is fast approaching when—”
Kalila switched off the display. She’d seen quite enough of Caerwyn Martel’s fat face and his cunning, evil eyes.
“Not interested in watching the rest of the pronouncement, then?” asked Captain Adiger. Normally he would be on the bridge but Kalila had asked him to her office to watch the broadcast with her. As soon as she’d heard that Capital World was airing a maximum priority message to all Imperial ships and worlds, she knew it was going to be something that would infuriate her, and having Adiger’s collected presence would help. She’d been right. Together they’d watched fifteen minutes of Caerwyn’s posturing, pompous rhetoric and Kalila saw no point in enduring any more of it.
“If I never see or hear that man again, it will be quite too soon,” she said.
Adiger nodded, clearly in concurrence.
The more she thought about it, the more upset it made her. For no good reason. “It’s fitting that they made him ‘Steward of the Empire,” she said. “It’s a shamelessly invented, made-up, crackpot position that appears exactly nowhere in the Articles of the Imperial Charter. It’s exactly as legitimate as he is.”
“I’m sure Imperial citizens everywhere will see through the charade as you do, Your Majesty,” said Adiger.
Kalila was not so convinced, but she appreciated the sentiment behind his words all the same.
Adiger continued his attempt to raise Kalila’s spirits. It was kind of him, but ineffective. “Even though it was broadcasted to the entire Empire, I’d bet most people aren’t even watching it. And those who are—”
“Let them watch,” snapped Kalila. “What difference does it make…” If her subjects could be won and lost over a few flowery words and spectacularly empty promises, then there wasn’t any hope to cling to anyway.
“It won’t make any difference,” said Adiger. “Not in my estimation. All the speeches in the universe couldn’t help him. He could pull roses straight from his ass—pardon the language, Your Majesty—while live-broadcasting and no one would be impressed. Caerwyn and his lackeys in the Assembly can pass all the motions they wish, and pretend to have all the power they want—they could pass a resolution declaring themselves the Eternal Gods of the Sun for all the good it would do then. But ultimately this war will turn on military success. And once we serve him a platter of bitter defeat on the field of battle, the news will spread far and wide. And his support will erode and evaporate.”
Kalila nodded. Trying hard not to be pessimistic. She had every reason in the universe to oppose the Assembly, and every right to maintain her claim to her father’s throne, to seek the justice his blood cried out for. The same justice her own dear siblings deserved every bit as much. For truth’s sake, it was the very justice the Founders of the Empire themselves cried out for it from their graves. She knew it! And whether it was part of some divine plan or merely some cruel jape of the universe, it had fallen upon her to make certain justice was done.
She never wanted this burden, certainly she’d never wished for it, but it was hers all the same. And if she did not salvage the Empire, and excise the corrupt branches and restore the tree to health, then no one would. And it would die. And the Rotham and Polarian vultures would scavenge the corpse, preying on the decaying remains of humanity, until there was nothing left.
I cannot accept that, she made herself remember. I will not!
“And don’t forget we received word just before the Assembly’s broadcast that the Taurus System and all its resources stand firmly by our side,” said Adiger.
That had been some good news, at least. Kalila hoped dearly that the Assembly’s broadcast had done nothing to change that fact. She needed the Taurus System, just as she needed the other worlds that had declared for her.
“The fact that the Assembly has chosen an executive leader—no matter how illegitimate and stupid—does present a danger,” she said thoughtfully. “Until now, their fleets have been disjointed, split up into mostly defensive positions. Now, however, they have someone to answer to, someone with the power to organize them and attack. Making our worlds vulnerable.”
Adiger nodded. “That is so.”
“And most of the worlds that have declared for us are in the Cheluna Ring and the Mu and Tenebris Clusters, are they not?”
“They are.”
“And many of those systems are within close striking range of the Apollo System…”
Adiger seemed to connect the dots. “If the enemy maintains a fleet in the Apollo System, several of
our worlds are vulnerable to repeated assault and frequent harassment. That would require us to tie down a serious portion of our forces defensively, greatly diminishing our offensive capability…”
“Exactly,” said Kalila. The Apollo System was a multiple-star system with no habitable planets, but due to its central location the Empire had constructed an impressive series of shipyards, outposts, and supply yards that could field and support a large military force far away from the main worlds. Because there was no livable planet in the system, there were no Apollo members of the Assembly, and there were no citizens or civic leaders to officially declare a side in the conflict, but Kalila’s knights had informed her that the military leaders currently managing the Apollo Yards were, unfortunately, taking orders from the Assembly. And that was not an acceptable arrangement, not if she had any hope of defending her sworn systems.
“So long as the Apollo Yards remain in enemy hands, our systems are far too vulnerable. They demand protection but I cannot protect them all, not without dividing our forces into such small fragments that the Assembly will need only a broom to sweep us all away,” said Kalila. “The only way to protect them, and still keep our fleet together, is to remove the system from enemy control. Which is why I suggest a preemptive strike.” She paused to let the words sink in.
Adiger seemed to like this idea, though he tempered his enthusiasm and his reply was one of caution. “If we draw first blood in this war, it is possible the Assembly will use that for their own benefit. Make new propaganda portraying you as ruthless, as the one who started the violence. Then, the bloodier it is, the more damaged your reputation will be in the eyes of the Imperial public.”
“Which is precisely why it must not be very bloody,” said Kalila. She regretted the idea of spilling Imperial blood, no matter how justified, and she was also patently aware of the threat looming just across the border. She’d sent Calvin Cross to investigate, to see just how imminent the specter of Rotham invasion was, and she hoped desperately that the rumors would prove ill-founded, but she was not foolish enough to think the threat was empty. If she allowed the Imperial fleets to become so depleted and destroyed from internal conflict, eventually the Rotham would invade and start seizing Imperial worlds. They’d always been an aggressive people, and they coveted nothing more than a golden opportunity. She only hoped not to serve it up to them.
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