Then he froze with awareness. The Corvolds probably learned on Hespra III that Resolve would show up at the slightest hint of danger. Daughter would be whisked to the roof and be exposed for a brief moment as she boarded the ship. He peered around the corner and sure enough, the tip of the great gun was angled in that direction. He discerned no movement of the gun, and that made sense. It was probably already sighted in.
Minutes later, Resolve appeared and hove to just above the roof of the palace. The ramp opened, and Val knew Daughter would appear any moment.
What was Borg doing? He had not seen or heard the Great Cat in some minutes, and he didn’t want to do anything that would foil Borg’s plan, whatever that plan was. But he couldn’t let the gun fire either.
He waited another moment, then made a decision. He didn’t want to shoot anyone, but he could shoot the gun itself. He moved out from the machine, exposing himself, and took careful aim with the blaster. The sound of his firing would spoil whatever plan Borg had, but Val couldn’t not act. He pulled the trigger.
Blast! The shot struck the gun and deflected it. Val was pretty sure it damaged the gun, as well. A muffled scream sounded from whomever was sighting in the gun, then pandemonium broke loose. The tarp flew back, and three Corvolds emerged with drawn weapons. Val moved back out of sight, believing that Borg had them covered, then he remembered the guard at the door. He crutched back in that direction, keeping close to the machinery for cover to find the guard out cold. Borg had dealt with him.
Val, feeling less threatened, crutched over to the unconscious guard and peered around a metal structure at the gun. Borg had disarmed the three Corvolds and was directing them toward the door.
Two more doors burst open, one on each end of the roof, and two Corvolds leaped out from each one onto the roof with weapons drawn, but Borg could not see them.
Val yelled, “Four more on the roof!”
Borg growled at his three prisoners. “Call them off, or all of you die.”
All three Corvolds started yelling, but the four attackers raced toward the damaged gun. Did they even know there was a Great Cat here? Surely not, or they, too, would have surrendered.
Borg fired at the first to appear, and he was not using a stunner. They were too far away for Val to use his small stunner, so he pulled out his blaster again and took careful aim. He downed two. Borg took the last one, then turned calmly back to his prisoners.
“Are there any more?”
One spoke for the three. “Ten of us in total.”
“Then they are all accounted for. I hope for your sake that you are not lying.”
He turned to Val. “Lie down where you are, and discard your weapons. Others will be here soon, and I don’t want you injured in the confusion.”
Val did as ordered, though he kept his weapons within easy reach, and he still had his crutch as a last resort. Imperial Marines swarmed out of the doors, and there was, to Val, a lot of confusion for a while. Local police arrived and demanded explanations, but Borg just gave them a quick briefing, then he and Val left. He would give them the details later.
It was a long way down the stairs. Just before reaching street level, Val suddenly felt weak. He settled down on a step with his back against the wall, his eyes glazed.
“What is it?” Borg asked.
Val didn’t answer, just looked straight ahead with glazed eyes. Borg touched his shoulder. “Are you injured?”
“No.” He looked up to the Great Cat and said softly, “I killed today.”
Borg nodded and stepped back. There was nothing he could say so he remained silent, leaving Val alone to deal with his feelings. Artmis, too, remained silent.
Val felt numb. His mind kept reliving the dying moments of the two Corvolds he had shot. He was aware of nothing else, just the ending of those two lives, the once living flesh bursting from their bodies as the blaster bolts struck, weapons flying away, and the bodies collapsing to the roof, all because of the choice he had made. Unconsciously, he rubbed his hands together, trying to clean them, but nothing would wash the stain of killing from his body or his mind. He would have to live with it forever. Killing for whatever reason was a bad thing, a bad thing. He desperately wished he’d used the stunner instead.
After a time, he lifted his head to Borg. “How do you do it?”
Borg stared back at him before answering, then growled. “It is not a thing lightly done, my friend. Never let it be so. It is one thing to kill to eat, it is quite another to kill for a cause. Always, always, it is the last resort. Come, we should return to the ship. They will be anxious.”
Val stood up, though his strength had fled. He made his way slowly to the street, then looked up and down the street as if seeing it for the very first time. It was like a new day had dawned for him, and he was not sure he liked it.
Vehicles and creatures of every description packed the street, though he did not see any Corvolds among them. He turned left toward the port, and Borg fell in beside him. As they rounded the first corner, Val stopped in astonishment. To all appearances, there lay a beggar sound asleep through all the hubbub. He crutched over to Ensign Vorgaskia and removed the filthy blanket.
Borg noted the uniform immediately and sniffed the body. “He is not dead.”
“No. I stunned him. They were going to kill him, so I stunned all of them. It was the only way to save him.”
Borg reached out and turned Val’s face to him. “Today you have killed, but you also saved a life, maybe many lives. Do not focus only on the killing.”
“I take it Daughter is okay?”
“She was never in any danger. The moment Otis received Krys’ report, he moved the meeting to another location.”
Val was confused. “Then why all this? Why did Resolve show up?”
“Had we been able to contact you, we would have recalled you and let the local authorities deal with this. As it was, you could not be reached, and we had no way of knowing your plan, so we could only support you. We let the Corvolds believe nothing had changed, even though it had. Ensign Vorgaskia made a brief handshake with the network which allowed us to locate him, then you. Once we had a location, we could act, and we did. What happened to your communicator?”
Val stared at the Great Cat with wide eyes. “This was all for me?”
“It was, though it has served the authorities well. There is now no question about what these Corvolds were up to. Prior to them firing at me, the evidence was all circumstantial.”
Val stared at the Great Cat aghast. Daughter’s security had ended up protecting him, not her. He knew suddenly that he had erred, erred gravely. His look was all the Great Cat needed.
“Do not sell yourself short, Val. You are part of our team, and we do not abandon our team members. What happened to your communicator?”
Val shook his head in dismay, answering absently, “I turned it off. I didn’t want it chirping at the wrong time. Beggars don’t usually carry communicators.”
Borg pushed back the hood and studied Val’s face. “You’re injured.”
“No, just part of the disguise. As a beggar, I can go most places unobserved. It served me well today, though I wish I had not turned off the communicator. Artmis will fix me up as soon as he can.”
“I think you can discard the cloak now. It has served its purpose.”
“No. I’ll return it to its owner. Let’s get Ensign Vorgaskia picked up.”
“I’ve already called for a ride. He can go with us.”
“Uh, do you mind if I walk? I’m not ready to face her yet, or anyone else for that matter. Especially Otis.”
“As you wish.”
* * * * *
He’d never seen Daughter so mad. The moment he entered her quarters, she came from behind her desk, her eyes as threatening as the business end of a blaster.
“Don’t you ever do anything like that again,” she vented. “What were you thinking? I have all these ships and sailors here to protect me, and you take it on your o
wn shoulders . . .” She stopped inches in front of him, suddenly aware that a lost, dirty, smelly, and forlorn young man stood before her. “Val?” she asked softly.
He hung his head. “I’m sorry, My Lady.”
She lifted his chin. “Sorry for what?”
“For leading Ensign Vorgaskia and Borg into danger. And . . . I killed two men today.”
“Oh, I see.” She gathered him in her arms and held him, sensing if not seeing the tears running down his face. She knew he wouldn’t want her to see the tears. “I’m so, so sorry.” Then to herself she mumbled, “What have I done? He’s far too young to be a part of this. I should have seen that sooner.”
“No, My Lady,” his muffled voice sounded. “We’re not too young. Just don’t send us away. Please. Not yet.”
She kissed his head and squeezed him tighter.
* * * * *
Basaggit was two days behind them when Daughter called Val to her quarters. When he arrived, he found Krys, Otis, and Captain Jzazbe in attendance. Daughter sat behind her desk, and Otis sat beside the desk with his tail curled around his feet. Jzazbe stood off to the side, and Krys sat on the edge of a chair, her eyes hooded.
Otis spoke first. “You know you erred back on Basaggit.”
“I do, Sir.”
“In what ways did you err?”
Everyone he held most dear to him was in this room, and he was about to receive the worst chewing out of his life. He felt the blood rushing to his face, but he knew he had failed Otis, and in failing Otis, he had failed Daughter. Whatever punishment he had coming, he deserved. He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin,
“Lots of ways, sir, but most important, I failed you. I failed to heed the advice you gave me when I first came aboard Resolve.”
“And that was . . .?”
“I failed to use all the resources at my disposal, just as I did with the crystals on Hespra III. Then, I acted alone in spite of you and your team of Protectors. On Basaggit I not only had the resources represented by you and your team, I had the full resources of Captain Jzazbe and the squadron, the local police, and Daughter. Time was short, and I chose to act without consulting any of you, and there was time to do so.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Val’s gaze dropped to the deck, but a moment later it lifted back to Otis. “At the time, it felt right, sir. Krys notified Captain Jzazbe who notified you and Daughter, so I knew Daughter would be safe, but I wanted to make certain. I had the skills to follow the Corvold, and I believed the situation would be manageable.”
“What if there had been other Corvolds, other weapons?”
“Exactly, sir. My focus was too small.”
“Again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Otis stared at Val for a long while. He turned to Daughter and a look full of meaning passed between the two of them, her eyes glittering in triumph. His muzzle swung back to Val, then he rose and padded toward Val, circling him, then coming to a stop with his muzzle inches away from Val’s face. Their gazes locked.
“I am not easily pleased, but your words please me, young man. Tell me, what would you do differently now?”
“The sole purpose of everyone here, including me, is to ensure the safety of Daughter. My focus should have been that, and only that. Catching the Corvolds was important, but it paled in comparison to Daughter’s safety.”
“Precisely.” Otis turned away, growling low in his throat as he prowled the room.
Val had never seen the Great Cat so agitated, and he continued staring straight ahead, fearful of what might come.
Otis padded back into his field of view. “Listen carefully, Val. Do not misunderstand my words. To survive on Hespra III, you developed a survival mechanism that depended solely on your own abilities. That must change. To lead in the manner of a fleet officer, you must learn to command others, to use them as your resources. You must force yourself to overcome this serious shortcoming if you want to succeed. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And that brings us to my responsibilities. I, too, am responsible for Daughter’s safety. I use all of my resources to ensure success. In this particular case, my need was not just to thwart this attack, it was to prevent future attacks by the Corvolds, attacks that might have come without forewarning.” He looked to Krys, his gaze softening, then his gaze hardened again and he turned back to Val. His lips lifted, displaying a feral leer. “That need has been met. The Corvold survivors have directly implicated the senior Corvold leadership, and the Empire is now empowered to intervene. I do not believe we will have a repeat performance by the Corvolds.”
Val squirmed, remembering the meeting so long ago between Sir Jarl and the Corvolds. “They’re not all bad, sir.”
Daughter spoke up. “I have not forgotten that it was the warning from a few heroic Corvolds that resulted in my ultimate rescue. Our response will be balanced, but the Corvold leadership will suffer. In time, it will be restored from within, but that is not your concern.”
Val nodded, knowing he was out of his depth here.
Otis didn’t give him long to squirm. “You’re a loner, Val, and it’s something you have to change, but know this: we Protectors are loners, too. We’ve learned to use all our resources, but at heart, we, too, are loners. We always trust our instincts. Your instincts told you to go after the Corvold, to search out and deal with the threat. It was the wrong thing for you to do, but it was also the best thing to do. The operation you set up and carried out to prevent another assassination attempt was simple and effective. It would have brought honor even to my Protectors.”
Otis brought a fist to his chest. “I salute you, Val. You have twice answered the call of duty, a duty to which you have not even sworn the appropriate oath. You are a Protector of the first rank, and you are a credit to this fleet and the Empire we all serve.”
Val stared at him, his jaw hanging open, speechless. Had he heard right? Had Otis just forgiven him?
Otis lowered his hand and sat, his gaze locked on Val’s. “I know what you’re thinking, young man. No, I have not forgiven you. You must learn to lead others, not just yourself. But I honor you, as well.”
Val didn’t know it, focused as he was on Otis, but Daughter looked to Jzazbe and nodded.
Jzazbe waited until he sensed Val had digested Otis’ words, then he spoke. “Cadet Val, look at me.” Val turned to him, his commanding officer.
“Three things define the best fleet officers,” Jzazbe said: “intellect, leadership, and knowledge of their job. Intellect is something you either have or don’t have, and you have it. We’ve been giving you knowledge, and we’ll continue to do so as long as you’re on this ship, but there’s no way we’re prepared to teach you leadership. Still, you showed leadership in setting up your operation to save Daughter, including convincing a reluctant ensign to follow your orders. Time was short, but you developed a plan and you assigned duties. That took quick, accurate thinking, which falls under the category of intellect and leadership in my book.
“In terms of knowledge, you used knowledge none of us have and never will have. You used what you knew and chose to become a beggar again, the perfect disguise for the operation you set up. You encountered difficulties, and you chose rightly. In choosing rightly, I include here your saving the life of a fellow crewmember.
“You are going to the Academy, Val. We’re going to do something now that will ensure that you either excel or fail. We’re going to make your job there harder, a lot harder.”
Val gulped, confused. “Sir?”
“Rarely does a commissioned officer go through the Academy. Commissioning comes after the Academy. As a commissioned officer, you’re going to attract a lot more attention than you’ll want, you’re going to get the hardest jobs, and you will no doubt frequently regret what I am about to do here. These great reasons to the contrary, I invite you to take the oath. Will you?”
“Sir?” He turned to Daughter. “My Lady?”
&nb
sp; Daughter stood up and came around her desk to face Val. “This is between you and Captain Jzazbe. I am not in favor of this, you’re far too young, but I know the full measure of its meaning to you. I suspect you know the commissioning words by heart. Will you say them?”
“I, Cadet Val . . .”
“Not to me, Val. Raise your right hand and face Captain Jzazbe.”
Val turned to Jzazbe with his hand raised, palm out. “I swear allegiance to the throne. I swear . . .”
He had it word for word, of course. When he was done, Jzazbe removed two pins from a pocket. “Cadet Val, I hereby award this field commission to you and welcome you to the ranks of Empire officers.” He removed Val’s cadet pins and replaced them with the pins of a real officer, an ensign.
Jzazbe stood back and saluted Val, and Val returned the salute, then reached out a shaking hand to Jzazbe.
“Is this real, sir?”
“It’s real, Ensign Val. You are officially an Empire officer. This is such a rare occurrence that it automatically qualifies you for entrance to an Academy of your choice. It does not, however, guarantee graduation. Understood?”
Val gulped, grateful for his crutch. His knee felt weak. “I understand, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“We’re not done yet, Val,” he heard from far away.
He turned to Daughter, though his mind had not yet fully digested Jzazbe’s words.
Daughter’s hand was held out before him. “Do you recognize these?” she asked. In the palm of her hand rested two rings of tiny, glistening stars.
Val blinked as he focused on her words. “Uh, they’re part of everyone’s insignia of rank, My Lady.”
“Not everyone’s, Val. The stars symbolize the Crown. They are awarded only to those who directly serve the Royal Family. They are worn beside your rank. Whatever rank you ever attain, you will always have the privilege of wearing the crowns, which are awarded only to the Queen’s Own. I don’t know if the Academy will let you wear your rank of ensign, but they will never prohibit you from displaying the crown. I hope you do so with pride. You will certainly do so with my blessing.”
Last of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book One) Page 49