"Well, I can buy them for you, but how can I get them to Sector Eight? They won't let them through the Core..."
"For now, you just buy what I tell you. Let the teams fill out, the officers get used to the captains, then I'll tell them where to go."
Marat shuddered:
"Georg, if you're planning something against the law like an attack on Perimeter Sector Seven targets or an attempt to power your way through the Core, I will have to refuse you."
Ugh, I didn't want to open maps, but there was no other way.
"Calm down, Marat. I wasn't thinking of doing anything illegal in your zone of responsibility. It's just that, very soon, in three weeks maximum, the Parn warp beacon will be turned on, and it will open a direct route from Sector Seven to Eight. That was how I was planning to get my ships through."
"How do you always know everything, cousin?" Marat asked in surprise. “Well, alright, I'll buy the ships for you, but under one condition. Let's not call it a condition, but a request. When the beacon turns on, help me take back Nayal and Veyerde. Since you have a lot of experience fighting the Aliens and such a reputation, the enemy will flee as soon as they even catch wind of your ships."
My second cousin's attempt at flattery was so awkward that I even started laughing.
"Alright, I agree. I'll help you. I need to get my Astra her home planet back."
When the screen went out, I heard Astra's voice:
"Tell me honestly, Georg: could he have won that battle in the Nayal system? Would you have won?"
"Now yes, I would have won, even despite how unexpectedly the attack began. But a month and a half ago, I would have done no better than my cousin. The debacle in Vorta was even more terrible. Don't blame Marat ton Mesfelle. The first encounter with Aliens is always like that. You need a deep defeat for a fleet commander to understand that it's all serious and the old methods won't work anymore."
"But that that particular loss came at too high a price to my family... Who am I now? The youngest of fourteen sisters and the only one not married. No home, no people, no kingdom. I'm not even sure that I have the right to use the title 'Princess' anymore, now that the Kingdom of Veyerde no longer exists."
Astra sat gloomily like a raincloud. After that, she gave a decisive start:
"I need paint and canvas. I want to express the feelings I'm experiencing on the destruction of my Kingdom."
* * *
Now I've already been sitting for more than an hour in front of a screen, looking over offers from Sector Seven docks. The selection turned out to be sufficiently great, but all the same I ran into financial problems again. I was planning on spending around a billion credits on obtaining ships. On first glance a significant sum, but I really wasn't letting myself go too wild either.
Above all else, I was interested in battleships but, as it were, there weren't any of them in stock. The only option was to buy a Tyrant under construction that would be ready in three months, the price of which was three hundred twenty million credits. I confirmed the order.
Then the heavy cruisers. For some reason, in Sector Seven there was preference given to the rocket-equipped Yataghans. Four such ships disappeared from the list of available ships right before my eyes – clearly it was Marat covering the losses in his fleet. There were two more Yataghans in stock, but I was in no rush to close the deal; rocket ships had no place in my fleet’s battle plan, in that they couldn't deal damage instantly. At first glance, you can see how difficult it would be to take out an Alien Sledgehammer with rocket ships. Rockets don't all arrive from the same ship at the same time, and a Sledgehammer's shields would be fully recharged in the time between strikes.
Light cruisers. In stock there were the Thrushes, specialized in electronic warfare; then the also rocket-equipped Whirlwinds; and something called Curses, without rockets or cannons, armed exclusively with drones. There were many Curses ready to go, around forty, but I was cautioned by a note: "Production stopped due to low demand after the introduction of more modern models."
For curiosity’s sake, I read the specs on these ships. The shield was frankly a bit weak, with low durability on a level closer to that of a destroyer than that of a cruiser... However, their high speed, good maneuverability and ability to release thirty-five combat drones at once meant that these light cruisers had a chance to be put to good use. Sure, just one wouldn't amount to much–its drones could be quickly shot down, which would make the ship totally powerless. But what if there wasn't just one such ship in a fleet but forty? One thousand four hundred fast drones–that's a force to be reckoned with. Especially if the drones are "mean:" fast, durable, and with a sharp bite.
I ordered all forty Curses, all the more so given that they were being sold for three million apiece. I also bought expensive drones for them. I bought all the Thrushes and improved electronic warfare equipment for my whole fleet, too.
Frigates. I wasn't fast enough on this one. My second cousin bought everything that was in stock or was expected to be ready in the next few months. All that was left was cloaked frigates with turrets or rocket-bomb cannons. And neither of them were in demand. At their price of fifteen million per ship, clients preferred to buy five cruisers and not just one cloak-capable frigate. In principle, I was also of that opinion and would have preferred cruisers but, because there weren't any, I bought thirty stealth bombers and five turret-equipped cloaked frigates. And on that, there was no more money, and all I could do was console myself with hopes that a fleet of cloakers would be a force powerful in its unexpectedness.
I ordered frigates and destroyers separately with the Purple House. Fifty Pyros, twenty Warhawks, ten Flycatchers, and ten Surgeons. I indicated that they should be delivered to Perimeter Sector Seven to Marat ton Mesfelle's address. I finished all the orders and sent Marat the money, then called Popori de Cacha. However, another Chameleon from my bodyguard team appeared instead.
"My Prince, Popori de Cacha is at a farewell ceremony. He has gone with the rest of your bodyguards and the two frigates. They are preparing the bodies of the two soldiers who died in the assault of the Alien battleship to be sent back home."
"That means both Chameleons died? I didn't know. Though the losses of assault troops, especially in the very beginning of the battle for the Behemoth, were nothing short of gruesome. It wasn’t until later, when the number of entrances shot into the side of the battleship became significant, and the number of assault troops that got inside reached the thousands, that the Aliens started to give up positions and the resistance weakened. But in the beginning it was simply hell... Practically no one survived from the first groups, whether human or Alpha Iseyek. I made myself a note to award medals of honor to the surviving assault troops of the first wave, then asked him to call the head of my security nevertheless.
"Popori de Cacha, I am very unhappy with you!" I sharply declared, just after the image of the Chameleon appeared on the screen. "Two heroes have died who served me honorably and defended me from all threats, and you hid that and didn't even invite me to bid farewell to them, the greatest representatives of your race! If the Chameleon mourning ceremony didn't allow the presence of other races, you could have said so, but just keeping quiet is not appropriate! And you could have asked me about sending the bodies to Sss. Do you think I would have refused you?!"
For the second time in my life, I managed to put Popori de Cacha in a state of contemplation. The Chameleon pointed both of his eyes at the screen, but my head bodyguard's pupils were covered with an opaque film. The silence went on for fifteen seconds, after which the bipedal lizard awkwardly bent down on one knee.
"My Prince, I am seriously at fault! I completely ignored the fact that the death of security personnel close to you could seriously affect your feelings. Unfortunately, you cannot bid farewell to Ivy de and Sygi de. Their bodies have already been cremated in the isolation chamber of Boydur the Hero. But if my Prince could help with delivering the ashes to the planet Sss, the whole Chameleon race would b
e indebted to your Highness."
"Popori de Cacha, I promise you that the whole Sector Eight Fleet will soon depart for Sss to honor the memory of the two heroes. And for now, my gratitude to the Chameleons will be expressed in another way: the crews of Tusk-1 and Tusk-2 will receive more modern ships, either Warhawks or Pyros. Though, considering your race's inborn talents and ability to operate well in invisibility, I would prefer to employ your compatriots as the captains and navigators of the cloaked frigates that will soon be arriving."
Standing change. Popori de Cacha's opinion of you has improved.
Presumed personal opinion of you: +67 (faithful)
Standing change. Chameleon race opinion of you has improved.
Chameleon race opinion of you: +10 (trusting)
That time, the popup messages didn't surprise me. I was counting on such a reaction, which is why I only slightly smiled at the confirmation of my hypothesis.
"And one more thing. Popori de Cacha, there is a very big mission that I want to entrust to you and your subordinates. I have been told that a multitude of interesting things have been found on the Behemoth. They will probably be studied by the commission on its way in from the Empire. But Imperial scientists are one thing, and the Orange House and my fleet is something a bit different. It seems fair to me that the soldiers who risked their lives for these valuable artifacts should also have the right to receive samples of valuable technology. Do you agree with me?"
"Yes, my Prince, that is fair," agreed Popori de Cacha, clearly listening to me very intently.
"Then gather your subordinates and visit the Behemoth. If you find anything that makes you curious, load it into the ship. I'll give you a freighter for these purposes. I'm especially interested in the Alien drones, so that is your priority target. As I was told, the Behemoth didn't use all its drones in the battle, so I really need valuable combat drones. I am also interested in biological specimens, modules and everything you consider necessary. But I'll repeat: I'm especially interested in drones. The mission is secret, and if anyone asks about the goal of your return to the Behemoth, say that you are looking for the remains of your soldiers. Is the mission clear?"
"Yes, my Prince. We'll do it quietly and unnoticed. If needed, I'll even find scientists of my race to study these valuable trophies."
I understood perfectly where the head of my guard was leading. Chameleons would also be very interested in Alien technology. In that, our goals aligned perfectly.
"That is precisely what I wanted to offer your race. Chameleons are renowned for their ability to figure out technology and build duplicates. As it were, I have a need of just such an ability. I'll find a remote place where no one will be able to interfere with your research. I'll give you laboratories and all necessary equipment. I'll give you the necessary number of people to help and provide reliable security for the laboratories. Everything that results from the research will belong in equal measure to humanity and the Ravaash race. Later you can call your ambassador, Pandedede de Rua, and we can talk with him about all the concrete details of the agreement. And for now, hurry so you'll have time before the Imperial commission arrives."
* * *
I dined in the company of Kiro Sabuto and several ship officers, discussing present affairs and periodically reminiscing about yesterday's battle. We were talking about when the two Sledgehammers were firing on Joan the Fatty.
"My Prince, would you not consider the option of transferring the fleet headquarters to a more appropriate and resilient ship?" asked the graying Major Anarip ton Dyme, responsible for the cruiser's electronics systems and the coordination of shield recharging connections in combat. "We were practically destroyed, after all. It was a miracle we got away. And then there wouldn't have been anyone in charge, and the whole fleet would have fallen apart..."
"No, the fleet wouldn't have fallen apart. Admiral Kheraisss Vej would have taken over command and led us to victory," Kiro Sabuto disagreed. "Though it is true that the Fatty barely escaped yesterday."
Everyone looked at me inquisitively. I then smiled self-consciously:
"Yes, that really was a close call. I was basically counting on destroying one of the two enemies, then we would take out the second. We could be recharged by nine cruisers and the Surgeon. In ideal conditions, there shouldn't have been any complications. But the fact that the shield barely made it through one Sledgehammer strike... It looks like we still have work to do on fleet cohesion. The ships 'healing' us took too long to figure out what was going on and turn their attention from Bride of Chaos to the Fatty. And that delay practically became fatal."
"I have gone over the timing of the events," Nicole Savoia said, not raising her eyes. "It only took us two and a half seconds from the strike to start healing."
Everyone went silent, mulling over what they'd heard.
"So, what do you say about moving to a stronger flagship?" Anarip ton Dyme repeated his question.
"I don't especially see the point of temporarily transferring the headquarters to Bride of Chaos. The Uukresh will become our new flagship when it's done," I said, revealing my plans to my subjects for the first time.
Kiro Sabuto took a look around and, after making sure that the team members eating at the tables next to ours wouldn't overhear our conversation, lowered his voice to a whisper:
"My Prince, I heard there were difficulties with its repair, like there aren't enough materials?"
"There's a lot that there isn't enough of," I agreed, also speaking in a whisper. "We need very high-capacity energy batteries, a thousand tons of armor panels made of special alloys for the chassis, heavy energy neutralizers, shield recharging modules, both for the Uukresh itself and neighboring ships... Almost all the necessary equipment has already been ordered in the Core, but there have been troubles with its delivery. Some freight forwarders are complaining that the Orange House Customs Service isn't letting starships with materials for us through, either holding them up at Ulia or turning them back altogether. In particular, they didn't let through equipment for the heavy cruisers we captured in Hnelle and Himora. That is why I don't want to risk expensive equipment for the Uukresh and am trying to solve the problem of how to reliably get goods transported to us at the moment."
We continued to eat in peace and converse. Everything was normal, when suddenly...
Global standing decrease. Current value -16
Standing change. Green House (Empire) opinion of you has worsened.
Present Green House (Empire) faction opinion of you: -32 (opposed)
Standing change. Empire Artist faction opinion of you has worsened.
Present Empire Artist faction opinion of you: +4 (indifferent)
Global standing decrease. Current value -17
Global standing decrease. Current value -18
Standing change. Red House (Empire) opinion of you has worsened.
Present Red House (Empire) faction opinion of you: -2 (indifferent)
Global standing decrease. Current value -19
Standing change. Empire Financier faction opinion of you has worsened.
Present Empire Financier faction opinion of you: +1 (indifferent)
Global standing decrease. Current value -20
What a damn gift basket! What did that come to me for? What did I do wrong? I looked at my dining partners worried and alarmed, but they were still talking about the previous topic like nothing had happened, making fun of the now silent communications officer who had tried to hang up on the Dark Mother yesterday. After a few seconds, I realized my companions had simply not seen any of these messages, given that all the information was only related to me there. All the same, I was put on edge by the intensity and coordination of the informational attack made against me. Having all of them come in at once definitely couldn't have been a coincidence.
"My Prince, incoming call from the head of the Orange House, Duke Paolo royl Anjer ton Mesfelle," I was told from the headquarters.
I looked around. It wasn't
good to go into a conversation with such a powerful man blind, not able to see his face, but there weren't any video screens in the dining area. I asked for a few minutes and headed for the fleet headquarters. An image appeared on the big screen, and I saw Duke Paolo on the backdrop of some kind of huge hall, which was totally packed with people. Thousands and thousands of people, most clothed in the colors of the Orange House, were occupying all the seats, and I couldn't see even one free spot.
"Greetings, Duke Paolo royl Anjer." As the junior in title, I greeted him first and, as demanded by courtly etiquette, gave a slight bow to one of the highest aristocrats in the Empire.
"Georg, the people gathered in the hall are representatives of all different levels of society from the star systems of Perimeter Sectors Seven, Eight, and Nine, and they have entrusted me, as head of the Orange House, with offering you a peaceful end to the conflict. I have named eight conditions that you must carry out to end the confrontation, and the representatives of the star systems of the Orange House have unanimously supported them. And now I officially ask you: do you agree to all of them?"
I laughed in reply:
"Duke Paolo, you can't be serious supposing that I don't have more important things to do than watch the broadcast of your meeting, can you? No, I'm not joking, I'm really struck. Yesterday, there was a most serious Alien invasion in Hnelle, which my soldiers were barely able to hold off. Today, the Aliens captured the Nayal and Veyerde systems in Sector Seven, and you have yet to even take the pains to ask the person in charge of its defense what happened! I swear, if you were my subject, I would've long ago given you the wall for incompetency and sabotage! Instead of doing what you're supposed to and supporting the defensive capability of the territory you've been entrusted with, you are doing jack all! And I'm not even talking about how your avarice, Duke Paolo royl Anjer, has led to a chronic lack of financing for the fleets and has served as a reason for the terrible losses in the battles with the Aliens. A month ago, you, in the presence of Emperor August himself, promised one hundred fifty million to support my fleet. Where is this money, I ask you?! Duke Paolo, you have deceived the Emperor himself! Such actions are qualified as state treason. There's no way around it."
Beyond Death (Perimeter Defense Book #2) Page 4