Price of Imperium

by Dave Robinson

  John looked at the wall, seeing but not reading the various framed papers that covered a good quarter of it. He had seen such papers in every shelter and they had become part of the background. His eyes kept drifting towards Jayne, seated in the swivel chair, doing something at the computer on her desk. His head started to droop on his chest.

  "Get up, it's time to eat." He snapped awake at Jayne's words and rose to his feet, managing to keep the coffee in the cup.

  "Was I asleep?" He said the words slowly, hesitating over them a little, then drained the rest of the cup.

  "Just about." Her smile took the sting off the words. "Anyway, it's time to eat."

  John rose to follow her, dropping his empty coffee cup in the garbage. She led him down the hall to a large room filled with tables. There was already a line of people streaming back from the serving window, and he could see the first-comers were already making their way towards the tables. Most of those in line were dirty, and more than a little smelly, but Jayne led him to the line and to his surprise joined him.

  "One of the rules is that we eat here at least once a week too." She smiled. "The idea is that it helps keep the cooks honest if they know they have to feed the boss too."

  And it keeps the staff in touch with the people they serve too. John thought, but didn't open his mouth.

  "Don't worry, the food's actually pretty good," she said. "I promise."

  "I believe you," he said, "besides, I'm hungry."

  "Good," she replied. "So am I."

  He nodded and couldn't prevent a smile from creeping over his face. She was too good natured and he couldn't remember the last time he'd spent time with an attractive woman, even if she was only doing her job. He didn't want to stare, so he turned his eyes towards the people ahead of them. They were a mixed lot, far more men than women, but otherwise pretty much evenly divided by race. What they had in common was dirt and layered clothing, turning them all into shapeless figures shambling slowly forwards towards their food.

  Jayne stood out as if she were from another world, clean and slim she stood straight rather than shambling forwards. John glanced at his fingers, afraid he hadn't got them clean enough when he showered.

  "Nice dessert," someone said behind him. "Can't wait to get my hands on that."

  John started to turn but Jayne put her hand on his shoulder. "Just ignore him," she said. "Not everyone can control what they say, and they're mostly harmless."

  He let her guide him forwards, trying not to shuffle like the others, but couldn't help glancing back. The man behind him was staring at Jayne, his eyes making odd jerky movements, but always returning to her. He was muttering, but the words were either too quiet or too slurred for John to make out.

  They reached the window without incident, and held out their trays to be served. A heavy-set woman in a print dress with a formerly white apron handed out plates of spaghetti with garlic bread on the side. "Haven't seen you here before," she said to John with a bit of a smile. "Eat up there's plenty more where that came from."

  "Thanks," he said and moved away to let the next person to the window.

  "Hey!" The man behind them yelled. "Don't go anywhere, bitch! I want my dessert." He lunged for Jayne who screamed and backed away, holding her tray like a shield, and dumping spaghetti all over her blouse.

  John dropped his own tray, absently noting where it hit the floor as he moved sideways, arms outstretched, hands ready to grapple. The other man lunged for Jayne again, and John swept his feet out from under him, taking one of the man's hands and bending it around his back as he went to the floor. The man scrambled for his balance but slipped on John's spaghetti and his chin hit the floor with an audible snap.

  John was on him without even thinking, one knee pressing into his back as he grabbed the man's arm and twisted it until he could feel the twisting, snap that meant he'd broken the elbow. Dropping the useless arm he reached for the man's shoulder, his left hand cocked back to deliver the killing blow.

  "No, stop!" Jayne's voice came over the clatter of her falling tray. Her hand landed on his shoulder just as he got the other man flipped. "Don't hurt him any more."

  He stopped at the touch, ready to whirl around and strike if it were another attacker, but didn't. Slowly he lowered his hand, keeping one knee on the other man's chest. "He was going to kill you."

  "It looked like you were killing him." She glared at him, eyes hard and angry. "I could have handled myself." He could hear the thump of boots down the hall. "Besides, the police will be here any moment. It's their job not yours."

  John nodded, unconvinced and rose, one eye still on his opponent in case. With Jayne's eye on him he didn't try one more kick to make sure the fellow stayed down.

  A big man in a security uniform came running through the door, a long heavy flashlight in his hand. "Jayne, what happened here?"

  She pointed at the man on the floor. "That man tried to attack me."

  "What about this other one?" He gestured towards John with his flashlight. John stood quietly, ready for anything. The man looked like one of those who had interrupted his rest many times with yells and kicks. His stomach was growling but he suppressed it, letting the knot wash over him as he waited.

  "He saved me," Jayne said, glancing towards John. "He had the other one on the floor before I could react."

  John nodded, "I was watching him. I knew he was going to do something; so I stopped him."

  "And with a lot more force than you needed to." Jayne shot back. "I could have handled it; there was no need for you to break his arm."

  "There was no need for him to attack you either." John replied, forcing the fire out of his voice as he tried to stay calm. "I would have left him alone if he hadn't attacked you."

  "It doesn't matter," the other man stood there, holding his flashlight like a weapon. "The rules are simple, you fight, you're gone." He put his flashlight away, and reached towards John. "I'm afraid we're going to have to put you somewhere until the police have had time to investigate."

  It was happening all over again; he was going back out in the cold. He let them lead him to a small room, and barely even noticed when a plate of spaghetti was sent in. The food was tasteless, the sauce laying heavy on the noodles, and he shoveled it into his mouth mechanically. An hour or so later the door opened and the man with the flashlight came back in.

  "They won't be pressing charges but you can't stay here any longer."

  John didn't say anything; he just rose and walked out the door. The guard gestured and John turned down the corridor towards the front door. As they passed a doorway he heard voices: "I don't care if your boyfriend is a cop! There's no reason for you to let someone sleep here all day when you know it's against the rules. Get out of here and be glad you still have a job."

  "Yes ma'am."

  Jayne stepped into the hallway, almost running into him. She muttered "excuse me," then turned towards him, her eyes opening in recognition. "I'm sorry you have to leave."

  "I'll be alright," he said, one hand unconsciously digging into his pocket for the fifty he still had there. "I have fifty dollars."

  "You have fifty dollars..." her words trailed off and he saw the color come back to her cheeks.

  "Yes, the fifty dollars the man from the television show gave me."

  "That money," she almost spat. "The money you took from the man who would make a joke of you."

  "I didn't do it for the money." He shook his head slowly. "I need to be able to be found."

  "Whatever," her face went hard as she dismissed him. "I just wanted to say thanks."

  "You're welcome," he said and walked on; already trying to think whether he should try near the market or under the viaduct to find a place to shelter for the night. At least it wasn't raining.

  Chapter 5

  The trip from Nightfall Station had been the easiest since Talon picked up the kendradi. It had only taken a couple of days to replenish their stores and add better filters to the life-support systems.
That and a complete refresh of the ship's atmosphere had worked wonders. It had also helped that less than a dozen kendradi had remained aboard for this leg of the trip. Their leader, Ober-Dwan, had insisted, and Admiral Torrens agreed that the survivors might help convince Admiral Calthran and the Council.

  "Captain on the bridge." Tam slid into his command chair as Lenys Kharan rose and returned to her station. It reminded him of a dance, or game of musical chairs.

  "We're coming up on Altiar Station, Captain." Vidall said into his console. "We should be docking in less than an hour."

  "Very good," Tam replied. Vidall had a traffic plot on the main screen. "It looks busy out there doesn't it?"

  "There's something odd about the traffic patterns Captain." Vidall did something and a series of numbers flashed up beside the plot. "A lot of sector guard ships, mostly small ones, and almost no Fleet activity. That's not only a peacetime pattern but peacetime during a budget crunch." He highlighted Altiar Station. "Look at the station, three full battle squadrons in hard dock running on station power. The lighter stuff's not much better."

  "How many Fleet ships are running active codes?" Tam interrupted. "Compared to the sector guard?"

  "Yessir," Vidall hunched over his panel. "There you go."

  "That can't be right," Kharan broke the silence as the numbers crawled up the screen. "It looks like the sector guards are in control of the system."

  "Exactly," Tam looked at her. "If someone's trying a coup, they've already more than half succeeded."

  *

  Tam was first off the shuttle, following the slideway up to the boarding area. The military side looked empty and less than half the ticket booths across the concourse were occupied. There weren't even lineups at the ones that were. He could see a Guard officer standing off to the side, and this time his implant flashed a name and rank. Vakar Garlos, Captain, Imperial Guard.

  "Commander Holron, this way please."

  "Thank-you sir," Tam saluted. "I didn't expect to be met by a Captain."

  "It's not often I come to meet a Commander." Garlos scowled. "But most Commanders don't show up with your information."

  Tam nodded. Garlos simply turned and led Tam across the concourse.

  Tam spent the trip from the shuttleport looking out the window. Something was very wrong with the Imperium, and it wasn't his imagination. He'd spent most of the last month going over the implications of what happened at Kendrade. Ober-dwan and the other kendradi were living proof the Enemy was still a threat. The Enemy was coming and the Imperium was falling apart. The Sector Guards were running roughshod over the Fleet and nobody seemed to care.

  Altiar City seemed a cross between a backwater and a slum; a piece of turf for street gangs to fight over. They veered to pass a tower leaning on scaffolding like a crutch and just for a moment Tam was reminded of the Kendradi cities in their fall; then the Star Tower came into view. This was the first time he'd seen it in person. None of the holo-cards did it justice, not even the one he had gotten when he was eight years old from his Aunt in the service. His thoughts kept drifting back to the sight of Altiar Station and all the lightcodes he'd seen. There was a coup going on, and it wasn't just on the frontiers. Someone was making a play for the Imperium itself.

  Captain Garlos broke the silence as they pulled into the garage. "Better not keep the Admiral waiting, Commander."

  "Aye sir," Tam followed Garlos into the building. This level of the Star Tower was nearly empty, and they did not have to wait for a transport car to take them to Calthran's office level. His 'pad hung in his hand like the Enemy planet was inside. His mouth was dry and he kept imagining smells as the car took them to the Guard level.

  The door slid open to a waiting room with a single guard and two clerks at desks behind a counter. Garlos accepted the guard's salute and led Tam around the counter and down a hall lined with office doors. Potted plants stood guard outside the doors but no light came through the translucent panes. Tam saw discolorations on the doors where signs would be. The last door had a sign, one word, Commandant.

  Garlos ushered Tam into a small room with a desk and workstation guarding an inner door. This area had the feeling of a workplace. They skirted this desk and moved towards the inner door. Once again it was wood, and Tam took a moment to wonder why the Guard kept their admirals behind wooden doors. Garlos pushed the door open without knocking and waved Tam forwards. The room was dominated by a mirrored desk bearing a black-bordered picture of the last Emperor, and a nameplate with the single word Calthran. A very old man sat behind the desk, watching Tam through hard eyes.

  "Commander." The voice was cold. "Admiral Torrens informed me that you had something so important she couldn't entrust it to a message drone, and even that information was sent triple encrypted and buried in a normal status report which she sent by stealth drone." It was obvious this was the Commandant. "It's a mystery and I don't like mysteries. One of the perks of my position is that people have to tell me what's going on."

  Tam snapped to attention. "Yes sir."

  "So tell me, what's going on?"

  "State Omega, sir." Tam swallowed. "We were detailed to investigate a routine extinction event seventy-five light years past the frontier. We found clear evidence of the Enemy, rescued survivors as per Directive 207, and proceeded to report. Upon arrival at Rondor base we were almost fired upon by two cruisers and were forced to seek supplies at a Guard base known to my executive officer. Admiral Torrens seconded us to the Guard and directed that we bring the evidence to you personally."

  "State Omega?" Garlos' voice came from over Tam's shoulder. He had almost forgotten the aide's presence.

  "What do you have, Commander?" Admiral Calthran spoke as if Garlos wasn't even there.

  "I have complete records of the attack," Tam said holding out his 'pad. "I also have what we were able to reconstruct from those records and what appears to be the Enemy's next target: Belkrath."

  "Belkrath?" The admiral shook his head. "Captain Garlos, we need copies of this data and a planning group assembled as soon as possible. I don't know how we're going to deal with them without the planet-busters but I don't think we have a choice."

  "Aye sir," Garlos nodded as Tam passed him the 'pad.

  "I also want you to see about convening the Council and I'm going to need to set up meetings with both Governor's Tavrolan and Hewl." Calthran grimaced. "Better make that separately."

  "Aye, sir."

  "As for you, Commander Holron," Calthran turned towards Tam, who was still at attention. "I want you to stay where I can reach you. We have quarters here in the Star Tower and I recommend you take advantage of them." The words sounded like an order.

  "Yes sir," Tam replied, and turned to leave.

  "Also, make sure your vessel's free," Calthran said. "I don't have much in-system right now and yours may be the only Fleet vessel that's not hard docked. See to it she stays that way."

  *

  "Garlos, Holron, I want the two of you in my office immediately." The Admiral said over his shoulder, crossing the outer office. "That fool, that self-important, self-centered fool. All he could see was some last-ditch attempt to save my own position. My own position can go hang. If we don't stop the Enemy there won't be an Imperium, a republic, or even a human left to worry about whether Adric Calthran gets to sit on some council or other." Grumbling, he poured a shot of brandy and tossed it back in one swallow.

  Calthran turned towards them. "Gentlemen, we have a problem."

  "Aye sir," Tam said, echoing Garlos.

  "If they're coming for Belkrath, the Tavrolan Guard won't be ready. The most we can hope for on their part is that once it becomes clear that there's a real invasion they'll be released to act as a reserve." Calthran gestured towards Garlos who grabbed a 'pad and started working. "We have the Guard, and what remains of the Fleet, but I can't see any way to prevent the current plans to divide it among the Sector Guards until the Enemy really hits. With any luck we'll keep the Capital Sect
or's fleet intact, but that's probably all we can hope for right now.

  "Meanwhile we have another problem." Calthran grimaced. "We need to save the Imperium from the Enemy without the one weapon that was designed for the purpose. Without an Emperor we've no way to release the planet-busters; which makes our most powerful maulers into very large and slow battle cruisers."

  "I take it the meeting with Governor Tavrolan did not go well?" Garlos asked.

  Calthran glared at his aide. "He as much as directly accused me of making up the evidence. It's all too convenient and he doesn't believe me. As far as he's concerned it's just another political maneuver, nothing more, nothing less. He's just going to continue with his plan of shifting the Fleet to Sector control and downsizing as much of our defenses as he can get away with."

  "The Fleet will stay loyal," Tam said, feeling out of place in Fleet blue rather than Guard black.

  "I'm sure it will," Adric replied. "The question is how much of it will still be there." He shook his head. "In the meantime we need to see what we have available and make the best use of it we can."

  "Can we get some of the other Governors on our side and force a mobilization?" Garlos asked. "If they were given the evidence maybe they could force Tavrolan to listen."

  "Unfortunately they don't trust him enough." Adric said. "As long as he's building the Tavrolan Guard they have to do the same. I know Hewl would support us in a heartbeat if he believed us-- but I don't know if I can convince him. Still he's the next one I should go talk to, him and then Chessa Fordyce."

  "All the way to the Tarith," Tam said quietly.

  "The Tarith?" Garlos clenched his fists as he turned towards Tam. "Why give them an excuse to invade? This is the weakest the Imperium has ever been and you want to tell the Tarith just how weak we are?"

  "No sir," Tam replied. "I don't want to tell the Tarith how weak we are." He took a deep breath. "However we do have to tell them that we've detected the Enemy."