“Don’t tell me you took on a whole squadron.”
“No, we didn’t. We jumped.”
Serge, startled and deeply troubled, walked back to his desk and leaned against it, his back to the rest of the room and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “The Empire has fast ships, Your Majesty?” he demanded.
“What’s a fast ship?”
He turned quickly, a furious look on his face. “The Chosen cannot lie. Answer me!”
She raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what a fast ship is.”
“A ship that can make jumps inside a system.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing, Serge.” She turned to Jons with a questioning look.
Jons, too, looked surprised, then thoughtful. His eyes rose to the ceiling as he recalled various encounters with Serge’s traders, traders that he believed were smugglers.
“Is that how you’re doing it?” he asked softly.
Serge’s shoulders slumped again, and he walked around his desk to sit in his chair, his eyes shifting between Jons and Mike. “How else could you jump so close to the primary star? No AI in existence would let you.”
“We had a pretty sharp Artificial Intelligence,” Mike answered, sensing that more was going on in the room than he understood. “It was more like a person, and I named it George. He calculated the least dangerous jump, then died so that I could execute the jump manually.”
Serge rubbed his face with both hands. “This is getting out of control. What you describe is impossible, First Knight. There’s no way you brought that ship clear across the galaxy, without an AI.”
“It was that or die. It took a year, Serge.”
“A year,” Serge spat out, not believing him.
Mike nodded. “During part of the voyage we also had to fight off more Chessori. They tracked us through hyperspace, and we had some difficulty losing it.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying you were tracked through hyperspace?”
“We were definitely tracked, though we believe the tracker read our jump commands just prior to the jump while we were in normal space. We tested the idea, and I’m confident that we were right. We believe a tracker mechanism was installed in the ship prior to its departure for Dorwall.”
“Humph. How did you get away?”
“I’ll tell you if you’ll tell us more about these fast ships you’re referring to.”
Serge’s lips pursed and he changed the subject. “So how did Jons get involved?”
Ellie spoke. “Sir Mike brought us to Gamma VI, and we were again attacked by Rebels and Chessori. I announced my presence, and Admiral Jons’ squadron is what remains after a mutiny culled Rebels from loyal Empire crewmembers. The fighting was terrible, as you can imagine, and the squadron is not operational.”
“You test my imagination, Your Majesty.”
“The story is true. I vouch for it as a Chosen.”
Serge leaned back in his chair and looked at Mike. “You really brought that ship through multiple jumps manually?”
“No. We brought it through manually. All of us.”
“You said your injuries were the result of the Chessori.”
Ellie intervened. “Jons’ squadron was riddled with Chessori observers. The failure of the treaty mission and the coup go hand in hand, Serge. It was all a set-up, a set-up that we blindly walked into. The Rebels and Chessori are clearly in league with each other.”
“Jeez, I never put the two together quite like that,” he said, stunned. “You know that Struthers is behind the coup, don’t you?”
“Struthers! Mother’s First Knight? Impossible!”
“Sadly not, Your Highness. Admiral Juster is his right hand man.”
“My brother? Are you mad?” she yelled, a look of horror on her face. She swayed on her feet, then collapsed.
* * * * *
Serge’s ship arrived at Parsons’ World a week later, but his first stop was not at a spaceport. At Ellie’s request, Serge brought the ship down in an uninhabited wasteland far from civilization. The Great Cats set up a perimeter, then Ellie and Mike walked out into the desert.
The sun was just rising as Serge watched Ellie and Mike walk away from the ship. A hundred meters from the ship, Ellie took Mike by the shoulders, and together they sank to their knees facing each other. To Serge’s astonishment, Ellie reached both hands to the ground and scooped up a handful of dirt. Mike, too, reached to the ground with his one hand and grasped a handful of dirt. They faced each other and raised their hands to the level of their chins, then slowly let the dirt trickle through their fingers until their hands were empty. Then they did it again, and once again. No words were exchanged that Serge could see or hear. When they were done, Ellie helped Mike to his feet and they returned arm in arm to the ship. The ship lifted and turned towards Serge’s home, and he never discovered the purpose of this strange event.
Chapter Fifty-four: Intrigue
A long, fat freighter lifted sluggishly from Parsons’ World, headed out-system with Val and Reba aboard.
Two days later, a similar ship followed with four Great Cats and a team of men and women hand-picked by Serge Parsons.
A full week passed before a fast scout carrying Ellie, Mike, and the rest of their delegation shot up from Parsons’ World going for all it was worth, chased by a number of heavily armed traders. The scout outran its pursuers, matched courses with Beta IV, and was taken aboard. The squadron turned and fled. A few shots were exchanged with the pursuing ships, all from long range, but they had no hope against the Beta IV and eventually turned back.
Weeks later, Beta IV and her escorts jumped, disappearing from the system. They would rendezvous with yet a third Parsons’ World trader in deep space where Ellie and Mike would transfer to the trader. As far as most of Parsons’ World knew, the special visitors had outstayed their welcome there. It was a simple deception, but Serge Parsons needed time to convince other leaders on Parsons’ World that joining with the Queen was in their best interests. His commitment to the Queen would remain closely held for as long as it could.
To Mike, the whole operation marked a turning point in his experience – it was but the first of the castle intrigues that he feared would become commonplace in his life.
Chapter Fifty-five: Catch-22
Ten weeks later Beta IV and her escorts dropped out of hyperspace on the fringes of Centauri III, Sector Headquarters of Admiral Chandrajuski. Centauri Sector was huge, extending roughly in a pie shape from heavily traveled lanes close to Triton Sector all the way out to the border, an area of continuing exploration.
Chosen partly for its central location within the sector, Centauri III had been developed over the centuries into a purely governmental world, a center for sector administration. As with any center of government, it had sprouted developed areas settled by wealthy bureaucrats, lobbyists, and administrators, and it had sprouted nearby areas of hangers-on, the less than affluent cast-offs of every society, and every level of society in between. A prime sector, Serge’s intelligence indicated the Rebels had taken over Centauri III.
Admiral Chandrajuski, unbeknownst to himself, was the individual chosen by Ellie to rebuild her military forces.
After dropping from hyper, Beta IV completed the identification process with ground controllers and was cleared in without delay, just one small group of many, many other ships transiting the system. When queried about their mission, the communications officer on Beta IV requested he speak with Admiral Chandrajuski immediately via secure link. This produced quite a delay. The duty officer eventually came on to inform them that Chandrajuski was not available.
Aboard one of Serge’s sluggish freighters on the outskirts of the system, Ellie stepped up to a communicator to play her part. Her voice and video were relayed to Beta IV, then on to the planet, making it appear as if she was on Beta IV.
“Centauri III Control, I am Daughter. Do you recognize me?”
The duty officer gulped and looked at something off-screen. “Your v
oice identification is verified. I am at your command, Your Majesty.”
“I will speak with Admiral Chandrajuski. See that he is informed.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Immediately.”
Immediately turned into two hours. When Chandrajuski appeared, Mike was floored. Without having given the matter conscious thought, he’d expected a human. Well, Chandrajuski wasn’t even remotely human. A bright green triangular head on the end of a long neck appeared on the communications screen, a head whose only remotely human feature might be its eyes. Those eyes reminded Mike of Albert Einstein – wise, concerned, and bright with intelligence.
“Your Majesty! What a relief to see you,” he said in a deep, mellow voice. “Are you well?”
“As well as can be expected. Please ask those in attendance with you to lock-in the secure channel, then leave.”
“At once,” he replied. The communications officer aboard Beta IV made the appropriate adjustments as directed and cleared her to continue.
“What of the Empire and my family?” she demanded.
Chandrajuski closed his eyes as he searched for the right words. “Daughter . . . Your Majesty . . . I am so sorry. You must know what has happened.”
“I know a little, enough to frighten me. I’ve heard that the Palace was decimated.”
“The buildings stand, but all within are gone,” he stated sadly. “The Chosen must carry on with you at its head. You are Queen.”
“Queen of what?” she demanded. “Is there anything left of my realm?”
“We have many things to discuss. I am so glad you came to me instead of anywhere else. Here you will be safe. Ellandra . . . Ellandra, there is so much to discuss, then plans must be made. I will prepare for your arrival. I can have a few things ready for you when we meet in private, including a staff that I think you will find helpful. Does that meet your approval?”
“Thank you, Admiral. Until then.”
She signed off and reached for the nearest seat with a shaking hand. Her eyes had sunk inside dark circles. When she looked up at Mike, she reached for his hand and squeezed hard.
“Our worst fears have come true. They’re waiting for us. He is not in command.”
“You’re certain?” he asked.
“Yes. Did you catch the queues, or have you forgotten what I taught you?”
“Hardly. Jake won’t let me. I caught the use of your first name. That’s bad.”
“Using it twice is very bad,” she informed him. “We’ll have to activate our alternate plan. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but deep inside I had hoped we might run into a little good luck for a change. The only other thing of consequence he said was about a staff. We might find some help among them.”
Beta IV continued inbound. Soon, though, a fleet of Empire ships dropped out of hyperspace nearby and changed trajectory to close with her. Beta IV waited as long as she could, then turned away from the planet, set up a jump, and disappeared from all screens. The pursuing ships followed, though after a few more jumps they would lose the tracker signal from the cruiser. Parsons’ World technicians had located the device and left instructions on its removal. After its removal, Beta IV and her attending ships would be free to head to their new base for refitting.
Mike contacted Val and Reba and cleared them in. They hit atmosphere on the night side of the planet with Reba flying Joline at the captain’s invitation. Chosen personally by Serge, Captain Palmetier knew the situation with the Queen and was an active supporter.
Reba had been enchanted upon entering Joline’s net, though Val had been shocked and angered at the nature of the ship. Joline was a trader, long, fat, and ugly. The underside of the ship was flat to permit as much surface area as possible to contact the ground upon landing. Numerous cargo bays made up most of her interior. Appearing slow and ungainly, just a typical freighter, this ship was not what she seemed. She could outrun most Empire military ships, though she had never needed to. She could also defend herself like an angry hornet, but again she had never needed to. If her crew ever let a situation deteriorate to that point, they had failed in their covert jobs.
But most enchanting to Reba was her net, her equivalent of George. Unlike Beta IV’s net that Reba had trained on, a net developed by the Empire and essentially devoid of personality, Joline was delightful and, like George, she craved friends, though she was not limited to keeping her friends safe as George had been. In fact, unless overridden, her programming required her to prevent forced boarding by Empire troops at any cost. Serge Parsons’ secrets were not to be discovered by the Empire.
Joline was smart, much smarter than George had been. She’d been created on Shipyard, a secret planet maintained by Parsons’ World, a world even farther out beyond the border. Focused on research, development, and manufacturing, Shipyard was Parsons’ World’s most jealously guarded secret.
Joline packed refinements developed on Shipyard that Val had never heard of, including a well-refined technique for making micro jumps, allowing her to jump with great accuracy much closer to planets than could other ships, almost right into atmosphere if desired. Ships with her drive were referred to as ‘fast ships’ by the crews who flew them. She also carried a ship’s beacon that could be altered at will or simply turned off. The ship’s log built into the beacon was a complete fabrication, as well. Val was aghast at this unbelievable breach of protocol. No wonder, he thought in frustration, Jons had never been able to get the goods on Parsons’ World. The technology on this ship far outclassed anything he’d seen in the Fleet. Considering their present predicament, though, his eyes lit up at the possibilities.
Joline and her crew were smugglers. They were very, very good, and they were very, very proud. They never used Joline’s special capabilities when under Empire perusal, but they did frequently use her secrets to avoid that perusal. By turning off her beacon and using the fast ship drive, she could sneak into most any planet unobserved. She couldn’t use a spaceport under those circumstances, but she didn’t need all the fancy facilities and landing aids used by other ships. She simply dealt directly with suppliers and end users wherever they might be.
Reba, bouncing with excitement as she made her first landfall as pilot, knew that Joline looked like just another meteor as she entered atmosphere. Joline offered suggestions and encouragement, but she remained out of the control circuits for Reba’s training. In spite of its ungainly appearance, there was little sensation within the ship of its fiery path through the night sky. Reba held true to her course until picking up the automated tracking beam from the spaceport, then she carefully guided the ship down the beam, settling into her assigned berth with barely a tremor.
The crew spent hours unloading the ship, then engaged in the time honored tradition of all sailors–a visit portside for a brief return to civilization before heading out on another multi-month assignment. Reba’s eyes filled with new wonders at every turn as she and Val strode purposely down the main avenue. The area bordering the spaceport felt like a frontier city, full of life and color, raucous. Skimmers, personal vehicles held aloft by antigravity generators, raced here and there, barely clearing the heads of pedestrians who strolled along, seemingly unconcerned. Val had to continually keep Reba from ducking and flinching as the skimmers whooshed overhead. He did not want her to attract undue attention by advertising her newness to Empire life, but in the end that proved to be the least of the challenges she presented.
>I’m surprised it’s so boisterous,< Reba said to Celine, her Rider.
>Are ports on Earth so different?<
>Depends. I guess a lot of them are as crusty, but there’s a lot more energy here than I’ve seen in most ports on Earth. This is a sector headquarters for the Empire. I had expected things to be clean and orderly.<
>They’re as clean and orderly as the inhabitants want them to be,< Celine replied. >I find it vibrant and exciting.<
>It’s all of that. I hope you don’t mind that I’m being a little hard on Val. It’s all in fun.<
>Fun for you, my dear, but I’m not so sure it’s fun for him. He looks worried.<
>But it forces him to hold my arm, and I won’t do anything stupid that might endanger the mission.<
>I know you won’t. Want me to tone down the hormones?<
>Definitely not. I don’t get opportunities like this. He doesn’t have a chance against the two of us.<
Reba, relatively new to having a Rider aboard, was only just getting a feel for Celine’s feelings, but she definitely sensed her shaking her non-existent head.
Aliens of every imaginable description, many dressed in colorful attire, walked or waddled or slithered on their appointed errands. The standard bars and houses of ill repute lined both sides of the avenue, hawkers strutted their wares on street corners and in front of shops, and the mix of smells emanating from various establishments was almost overpowering at times. Reba, doing her best to look bored, was, in reality, practically hovering over the ground with excitement. This was her second new planet, but she’d seen little of Parsons’ World. Val kept her arm in his, one moment keeping her from bouncing with excitement and the next keeping her from ducking beneath a speeding skimmer. He kept up a running commentary on their surroundings as they walked.
Several blocks from the spaceport, Val and Reba separated from their crew and slid into a bar fronting the avenue. It turned out to be, essentially, a worn out refuge for spacers down on their luck. It was perfect. They were on their own now and had to make certain they weren’t observed. Over the next few hours and several bars later, Val was reasonably confident they were not being followed.
Last of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book One) Page 58