Heirs at War (The Marmoros Trilogy Book 2)

by Peter Kenson

  “I take it everything is okay,” David said.

  “Well I won’t say that everything is normal,” Tony replied, “because as far as I can discover, this pregnancy is a first. However, the foetus appears healthy as does the mother. There are no abnormalities that I can detect although I cannot make any predictions about telepathic abilities or other racial characteristics without doing a full DNA analysis. The morning sickness will pass, probably in a week or so although I’ve given Rachel something that will help with that. From the records I’ve been able to access, a normal Ystrad pregnancy is about twelve standard months and that agrees with the development of the foetus so far.”

  “And what about travelling?” Jeren asked.

  “As far as I’m concerned, Rachel is fit to travel whenever she wants although I would recommend waiting until the morning sickness has passed. It’s much easier to deal with when you’re not in a confined space.”

  “Thank you for doing this, Tony,” David said. “Will you be staying on the Cleopatra for the escort run to Rebus?”

  “I don’t know. I’m officially on leave and I think Admiral Wei turned a blind eye when I hitched a ride out here on the supply ship but he’s going to want me back soon.”

  “I’ll speak to Khan and get him to smooth things over. Under the circumstances, I think we can justify that as a sensible precaution.”

  David turned to look at Jeren and Rachel. “Right you two. It’s time to face the music. As soon as we get back to the palace, you’re going to have to meet with the ambassadors and tell them what’s going on. I can’t imagine they’re going to be happy but you’re just going to have to deal with that. We won’t schedule a new date for departure yet until the morning sickness has passed but it will have to be very shortly after.”

  Chapter 5 – Belsia & Galgos

  Bargas listened to the wind howling outside the windows of the audience chamber and huddled back into the throne, pulling the edges of his cloak tightly around him. All through the chamber, servants were scurrying around carrying glow-lights and setting up portable heaters. Mentally he cursed the winter storm that had caused the central power grid to fail… again. With an effort he dragged his thoughts away from the log fire that was blazing in his private quarters and focussed on the two men standing before him.

  “Report,” he grated, trying not to let the chattering of his teeth be too obvious. “Nassad, you go first.”

  The commander of the Belsian armed forces snapped to attention. “The attack on the spacefield was extremely well co-ordinated, your Excellency. The rebels attacked simultaneously on multiple fronts, breaching the defensive boundary at several points. Our forces had to spread themselves to counter the multiple threats and fought heroically, repulsing the rebels and inflicting heavy casualties.”

  “If the rebels were repulsed so effectively, Commander, why is there is a pile of scrap metal that used to be a freighter, lying in the middle of my spacefield?”

  “We need more men to counter this type of attack, your Excellency. Our defences were spread too thinly. One of their assault teams got through but they took casualties and we tracked them back to their hideout in the hills.”

  Bargas leaned forward. “You found the entrance to one of their tunnels?”

  “Yes, your Excellency.”

  “And?”

  “We forced the entrance and got down into the tunnel. Unfortunately they had mined the entire passageway and detonated the charges as soon as we started to move. I lost a dozen men in the explosion.”

  “But surely you could track the path of the tunnel from the surface and re-enter it past the blockage.”

  “The tunnels twist and turn, your Excellency. We have tried on many occasions to drill down into their tunnels but with no success. And the production manager at the mine is complaining that we are taking valuable resources away from the central mining facility.”

  Bargas sat back again and pulled his cloak even more tightly around him. “I have just had a very unpleasant discussion with our allies. To say that they are upset would be an understatement. There must be no recurrence of this incident. No further interruption of supplies will be tolerated. The penalties for failure will be severe.

  “Commander, you will reinforce the defences around all of our installations on that planet. Deploy as many men as you have to but I want no more reports of damage from rebel attacks. Then I want you to set up a task force to find a way into this rat’s nest of tunnels. You will have a drilling team from the mine under your direct command. I will deal with the mining supervisor. There’s no point in dragging it out of the ground, if the rebels then stop us from shipping it off-planet.

  “Sitrona, I want one of your top agents assigned to this task force. The rebels cannot exist underground without supplies. Where are they getting their food from? Their weapons and ammunition?

  “And why do they appear to have a nearly uninterruptable supply of power?” he finished, glaring at the servants who were still trying to set up a circle of heaters around the throne.

  “The Ystrad settlements on the surface are supplying valuable food to our forces, Excellency,” the intelligence chief replied. “We know that some of that food is also going to the rebels but we have been unable to infiltrate their groups. They can spot a non-telepath a league away. We have tried recruiting agents from other races who have some telepathic ability but they still get detected.”

  “Why is it that, twenty five years after we conquered the planet, we are still dependent on Ystrad farmers to grow food for us? We have sent hundreds, thousands of good Belsi farmers there. Why have they not taken over the food supply?”

  “Their crops fail, Excellency,” Sitrona replied. “Our scientists cannot explain it but it takes a hundred Belsian farmers to produce as much as one Ystrad farm. We suspect the Ystrad are manipulating the crops in some way but there is nothing that we can prove.”

  “We could always try executing a few farmers,” Nassad said. “To encourage the others.”

  Sitrona shook his head. “The last time we tried that, the local food supplies dried up for nearly six months. We ended up importing emergency supplies from all over the empire before the farms started producing again and...”

  “Nevertheless,” Bargas interrupted, “I want these rebels stopped. Nassad’s task force needs information to be effective. It’s your job to supply that information and I don’t care how you do it.”

  “Yes Excellency.”

  “Now where is that Ystrad bitch?”

  “We believe that she has not yet left that primitive planet in the Benden cluster.”

  “You believe,” Bargas shouted. “Is that the best quality information you can supply? You believe.”

  “Excellency,” Sitrona began, looking across at Nassad. “The failure of the Commander’s marines to secure the Ystrad woman, unfortunately also resulted in the death of my principal agent on the planet. A resource I have been unable to replace as yet.”

  An angry flush started to work its way up Nassad’s neck. “It was your man Alcanzar who ordered the attack. If my men had been informed that there were Imperial Guard on the planet, then we would have handled the situation differently.”

  “All right, enough!” Bargas roared. “You both failed in your own ways. So how do we keep track of the bitch now?”

  “We have set up a network of extremely long range probes around the system, Excellency. The Ystrad ship is still there, as is the Imperial corvette and a third ship that we’ve been unable to identify. There is also a constructor vessel there which appears to be building a permanent monitoring station. The probes will tell us as soon as any of the ships leave orbit but it will be down to the Commander to track the actual movement.”

  “That is not going to be easy if that corvette is escorting the Ystrad ship, which we believe she will. The Imperial navy has much better long range scanning systems than anything we have and...”

  Bargas cut
him short with an angry wave of the hand. “Don’t tell me your problems, Commander. Give me a solution.”

  “Intelligence,” Nassad stared at Sitrona, “believe that there are only two possible destinations for the Ystrad. One is here, to their home planet but that is unlikely. The more likely option is that they will head towards that colony of refugees that they have established on Sorinto in the Rebus system. We know the exact capability of the Ystrad ship in terms of their jump range and we have positioned probes on both possible routes. As soon as they make their first jump, we will know which way they are headed and we can make plans to intercept them.”

  “No, I want that bitch dead but I think we need to be a little more subtle this time,” Bargas said. “Our ambassador on Galgos is still dealing with the fallout from your little run-in with the Imperial Guard. If that corvette does escort the Ystrad ship, the Belsian navy cannot be seen to be involved in any attack.

  “I will speak to our allies. Once you have confirmed the route, I think they might welcome the opportunity to try out some of their new technology against an Imperial warship. Is there anything else?”

  Sitrona cleared his throat. “Well… there is another possible solution to the rebel problem on Ystradis, your Excellency.”

  “Go on.”

  “I have been speaking to our allies. They have been doing some very interesting work in the field of bio-engineering. They claim they can develop a nanovirus that can be programmed to only affect the Ystrad. Our people would be immune.”

  “So your plan is to give the rebels a cold, is that it?” Nassad sneered.

  “The virus they are developing is lethal, Excellency. Once deployed, there would be no more rebels on Ystradis.”

  The silence stretched out for a long minute as they all considered the possible implications. Nassad looked disgusted but it was Bargas who spoke. “How can we be certain that our own people would not be affected by this virus?”

  “They have offered to arrange a demonstration if we can supply them with suitable subjects; an Ystrad man and woman, say, and two Belsi volunteers.”

  Another lengthy pause developed. “Arrange the demonstration,” Bargas said eventually. “Commander, the next time you raid one of the surface settlements, seize two Ystrad on some pretext or other and ship them here.”

  “And the Belsi subjects?” Sitrona asked.

  “Offer pardons to some of the lifers in our prisons. I’m sure you’ll get some volunteers.”

  ***

  The Imperial administration complex on Galgos was immense. Radiating out from the Imperial Palace at its centre, it stretched for leagues in every direction. Waiting for his personal shuttle in the basement of the Intelligence Centre, Khan pondered the pre-emptory summons from the Lord Chancellor’s office. Face-to-face meetings were a rarity given the communications mesh that covered the complex and Khan mentally cursed the chancellor for dragging him away from the centre of his intelligence network.

  “That, of course, is precisely why he does it,” Khan thought to himself as he settled back for the short hop to the palace.

  The Lord Chancellor’s office was the only department to be based inside the Imperial Palace and Khan cursed again as the shuttle stopped at the security perimeter. The status and security codes built in to the shuttle would take him through any automated checkpoint on the planet but all entrants to the palace itself had to be visually identified by a human guard. He cleared the side window and looked out at the guard who saluted smartly and hastily pressed the button to release the shuttle.

  At the station he ignored the lighted arrow on the floor which was directing him to the reception desk and headed straight towards the chancellor’s personal office. The little arrow started bleating at him as it tried with increasing desperation to redirect him towards reception. Eventually it gave up the unequal struggle and contented itself with staying one pace in front of him, chuntering quietly to itself every time they approached an intersection.

  The door to the chancellor’s outer office opened to his touch and announced him to the room. To his surprise, the only other occupant of the office was Space Admiral Wei. He raised his eyebrows as he greeted the admiral and got a shrug of the shoulders in return. They did not have long to wait, however, as the inner door irised open and invited them to go through.

  Inside the room, the chancellor stood to greet them but the other man, who they recognised as the Minister of Exo-Affairs, merely nodded in their direction.

  “Gentlemen,” the chancellor began, “Minister Walstrom here, has been telling me of some serious breaches of protocol in the Benden system, you know, where that Ystrad girl is. Apparently there have been some unauthorised movements of people between the planet’s surface and the orbiting ships.”

  “The Ystrad queen visited the surgeon on the Cleopatra for a medical check-up before her first spaceflight,” Wei replied. “It’s standard procedure for first time travellers and we did it that way round, rather than send the doctor down to the surface in breach of the minister’s directive.”

  “She’s been in space before,” Walstrom objected. “When she was a baby.”

  “That hardly counts, Minister. Besides the continuing well-being of the queen is a prime objective of the mission for which we have a waiver on the no-contact directive.”

  “Yes well, there were three other people on the shuttle apart from the crew. One of them, we believe was the agent Held but the other two were locals.”

  “My information,” Khan broke in smoothly, “is that they were members of the Ystradian ambassadorial party and, therefore, also covered by the waiver.”

  “Their bio-signatures were not Ystradian and your captain,” he rounded on the admiral again, “refused my team’s request for information. I want him disciplined.”

  “Captain Boronin refused an abrupt demand for information,” Wei replied. “The captain of an Imperial warship is in sole command of that vessel and is entitled to deal with requests for information or anything else, in whatever way he deems appropriate under the circumstances. He will not be disciplined any more than I imagine you will discipline your people for the brusque tone of their demand.”

  “This is outrageous,” Walstrom blustered. “Space tourism. These people are part of a pre-industrial society which must be allowed to develop with no outside interference. This is contaminating their development.”

  “Their society has already been contaminated,” Khan stated. “It started when that escape pod crash landed on the planet and has unfortunately escalated in the search for the missing queen. Dammit all, the Belsi had a squad of marines on the planet.”

  “And you sent in a couple of Imperial Guard. Yes I know. But none of this justifies taking locals off-planet.”

  “He has a point, Khan,” the chancellor put in. “But what’s done is done and all we can do now is try to contain the damage and hope that the society will heal itself. When will the Ystrad queen be leaving?”

  “I understand there are some minor issues with her health but that these are only temporary and she will be leaving in the ambassador’s ship in about a week. The Cleopatra will escort her ship to Rebus.”

  “And your man Held?” Walstrom said. “I want him off that planet.”

  “When the queen leaves the planet, Held’s mission will be over. I believe he is planning to take an extended vacation.”

  “Good, then that’s settled,” the chancellor said. “Let’s just keep the lid on this for another week, gentlemen, and then it will all blow over.”

  Chapter 6 – Cleopatra

  "Ship cleared and ready for action, sir. Ready time, three minutes twelve seconds."

  "Thank you, Number One. Unfortunately, approximately 12 seconds ago, the enemy ship which we unexpectedly encountered, opened fire with its main armament and blew us into space dust."

  Mikael turned to survey the bridge. With the exception of the First Officer, all eyes were firmly fixed on their in
dividual control panels.

  “I thought I was quite explicit in Daily Orders, Number One. The latest Combat Intelligence Report indicated that the rebel ships in the Rigellian incident had a readiness reaction time of slightly over three minutes. I intend that the Cleopatra shall have a response time of under three minutes and we will continue to drill until we achieve that target.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Which was the last section to report in?”

  “Aft torpedo room, sir. Apparently the surgeon is re-organising the sickbay and had stacked some boxes of medical equipment outside in the companionway.”

  Mikael groaned inwardly to himself. Tony was his long-time friend and drinking companion but was not officially a member of the Cleopatra’s crew. Although there was a few years difference in their ages, they had grown up together on the planet Khasek, gone their separate ways and then met up again as cadets at the Space Academy. Mikael had been a raw recruit at the Academy while Tony by that time had already completed his basic medical training. The experience of the older friend had saved Mikael's skin on several occasions when cadet escapades threatened to get out of hand.

  Since that time they had remained firm friends despite their service paths only crossing rarely. Tony’s official post was on the cruiser Pushkin which was currently undergoing a major refit and so, in the light of Rachel’s current condition, he had been temporarily assigned to the Cleopatra. However, most of his serving career had been spent on capital ships of the line with much more extensive medical facilities and although this was his second spell on the Cleopatra, he still had difficulty in adapting to the confines of its tiny sickbay.

  “All right, Number One. Have the crew stand down from stations.”

  Mikael settled himself into the command station as the Exec relayed the order. Moments later the chimes of the All Clear sounded through the ship.

  “Oh, and Number One...”