by Chris Hechtl
“It invites another problem since at least a quarter of our population has some changes in some degree,” Countess Newberry mused. “That includes some of our ruling families as well as our more prominent military ones. For instance, a few sitting at this table. Also, some of our special forces are made up of personnel who could easily fall in this program. It would invite a civil war.”
A few of the heads around the table grimaced but then nodded. One by one the eyes fell on the duke and the emperor.
“Obviously, we can alter the program. Weed out the most grievous body insults. If we don't wish to sterilize them, we can offer genetic counseling to correct the defects,” the duke stated, looking to the emperor. “Perhaps, in our zeal, we are moving too hastily,” he said, recognizing a time when it was apparent he needed to back off.
The emperor stared at his cabinet realizing they were lined up against him. Slowly he nodded once and resumed his seat. “Very well then. We can table it for the moment. Now, where were we,” he said, looking to the next in line.
~~~^~~~
“That was too damn close for comfort. Is the man insane?” Malwin demanded as they regrouped at the Admiralty.
“Is he? I'd ask which one but I'm wondering the same about you,” Theo said looking at him. “What the devil possessed you to stick your head out like that, Malwin?”
Malwin grimaced as he went over to the bar and poured himself a drink. He offered one to Theo and the countess. Both nodded so he poured their favorites and then came over with them. Once he handed them off, he took a seat with them. “I could see what was going to happen. I'd like to say it was an impulse to protest it, some heroic thing, but I just knew it was bad. It would tear us apart.”
“But he's going to do it anyway,” the countess warned.
“I know. So, I'm going to send any in his reach away—far away if I can help it. That's the best I can do for them and the empire.”
Theo was downing his drink but stopped and stared at the other man. “You are talking about deliberately undermining another ministry as well as the emperor's wishes.”
“I'm talking about shielding personnel. Personnel whose only fault is having the wrong shade of eyes, hair,” he indicated the countess, “or what have you.”
“You were onboard with the other programs,” the countess pointed out.
“That was then. This is going too far. It will tear us apart when we can least afford it. It will invite civil war. You of all people know that some of the families have these genes.”
“I know. I thought a little judicious data movement would cover the problem.”
“When he can see them with his own eyes?” Malwin asked, looking at her. “He'll never be happy. He'll never be satisfied. Never. The best we can do is try to curb impulses like this. Ones that could threaten to tear down everything our ancestors and our families have built up to this point. He keeps saying we're on the verge of greatness! Well, if we're not careful, we'll find out he is our worst enemy!”
“Careful. You are walking a fine line, Malwin. I won't protect you,” Theo warned as the countess stared at Malwin.
“Don't I know it. And I know the family may not either. But I'm going to make sure they and others know what he intends.” He turned to the countess as she opened her mouth to protest. “If he is pressured enough, he'll back down. He won't like it, but it is for his own good and ours. If it causes problems for me later, so be it.”
~~~^~~~
Catherine heard about the cabinet meeting. She had been expressly forbidden to go by her father, so she had made arrangements to be busy elsewhere. Busy and in the public eye to make it clear she was doing her duty.
When she heard the gossip about Cartwright's stand, she was surprised. Malwin had some iron in him but she hadn't expected such actions. She also noted the sudden assignments going out to move personnel he personally knew would be targeted out of Horath proper. She nodded silently. She approved of his efforts, though she wasn't foolish enough to come out publicly and say so.
Her father and Purity and Enlightenment were spinning out of control when they could least afford it. As much as she'd like to go to her stepmother or grandmother to rein her father in, she knew it would be a futile effort. It might also brand her as against her father, making him more paranoid and putting her neck on the line even more than it already was.
Damn the man, hadn't he impressed on her to strike when the time was right? So, what was he thinking? And her grandmother, she'd impressed on them to divide and conquer when it was appropriate, but this, this wouldn't so much divide everyone as get them to unite against the royal family!
She bit her lip and then did her best to refocus on other things. After all, her father's efforts had been stymied by the cabinet for the moment. No doubt he would find an outlet by blooding a few obvious chimeras and then let the matter slide for the moment until they got the war front under control.
~~~^~~~
Commander and ship's Captain Rinat Korzman knew he was in a world of shit when he reported aboard the picket instead of being allowed to transmit his urgent message.
Well, urgent no longer since they'd taken their sweet time getting to Horath. Not that it was his fault. Duchess Tucket had ordered him to make flank speed to Horath. His people had pulled out all the stops, and her people's shoddy work in rebuilding Prince de Neufchatel's hyperdrive had nearly blown up in their face.
His elderly Scimitar class destroyer hadn't been completely lost, but they had been reduced to the low octaves of Beta band and the octaves of Alpha band to get to their journey.
So, a journey that should have taken a couple of months had been agonizingly three times longer. He'd brought his XO, Lieutenant Commander Allen Minor, along to help explain the problem. Prince de Neufchatel's chief engineer was in sickbay. The captain wasn't quite willing to admit he'd put the stupid prick there.
“Captain Korzman. Aren't you going the wrong way? Weren't you supposed to be in Dead Drop?” the fortress captain asked, apparently bored.
“I know that. We were sent back.”
“Back? Why? When?”
“It's a long story. Look, I'm sorry we're late; we ran into a spot of bother along the way. Our hyperdrive acted up. The idiots in Garth didn't do a good job. We saw the traffic going the other way but missed them each time. And a ship passed us, a courier? Did you get the word?”
The captain frowned. “What word?”
“About the fleet?” the ship captain prompted. “You know, the one south of Garth?” He looked over to his XO helplessly. The commander scowled blackly. Obviously, something was wrong, very wrong.
The captain frowned and turned, clearly puzzled and confused by what the ship captain was trying to say. It didn't make any sense. “Fleet? What fleet? We don't have a fleet operating south. You must be mistaken.” He immediately began to put the idea out of his head. Obviously, the captain was cracked.
“The Federation fleet! The one coming up from the south to attack Garth!” the commander said almost desperately.
“The … what did you just say?” the bored captain demanded as he sat up straight and stared at the commander. The commander nodded, cold sober. The captain's eyes widened and then turned and began to issue rushed orders.
The commanders stood there and realized they was seeing a full captain freak out. The term shit a brick came to mind. At least their role in the debacle was done with. Well, except for the wringing hands, finger pointing, and recriminations from the brass about the delay. He'd meticulously documented the damage and problems. His engineers were ready to go to the mat over it all. Not that he expected it to do any good. Someone was going to have to pay dearly for this. At best he would most likely find himself beached.
~~~^~~~
“Another fleet?” Theo demanded, staring at Malwin.
Malwin sat there stunned. Sure, they'd put in the effort to find out if the Federation had put another fleet together, but he hadn't honestly accepted it fully. Nor h
ad he realized the threat could be so real or become so real so quickly!
“Prince de Neufchatel obviously got screwed. Or, I should say we did since their delay had cost us valuable time. What we do with it now is a problem.”
“We've already sent reinforcements to De Gaulte. Will the Duchess backstop them in Garth?” Theo asked carefully.
“No doubt she will. Will they be enough is a big question,” Malwin stated. He looked over to the others but most of the other flag officers seemed as stunned as he felt.
“So, what do we know about this enemy? Other than it is a carrier force. Did you get anything more?” Theo asked, looking from Malwin to Countess Newberry.
Malwin grimaced but looked at the countess. She shrugged. “We got a few more details in refining the data. Mainly by going back to the raw feed and processing it all over again with the computers we've got. It is a carrier force; at least two fleet carriers were identified at the heart of it.”
“Frack. That means more antimatter.”
“Since you are right to think they are coming from Pyrax, I'd almost have to assume so,” the countess said cautiously as the door flew open. All heads turned in surprise and some with a trace of fear. A few remembered that politics were rough, and assassinations were not unheard of in the Empire.
Emperor Pyotr filled the entryway for a moment before he stepped through. One of his special emperor's guard dressed in tactical black followed him. The guard closed the door and then stood blocking it.
“Your majesty,” Theo said as the group hastily rose to their feet.
“Tell me. Tell me what is going on,” the emperor seethed, walking around the table. Theo immediately vacated the head of the table position, but the emperor kept walking.
“Sire, we received a report of another force south of Garth. It is a Federation force primarily built around carriers,” Malwin said, indicating the hologram at the center of the table.
In the dimly lit room, the stalking emperor was a wrathful presence, one that haunted their backs like a predator ready to strike from behind. More than one head tracked him warily.
“And?”
“And it is far more than what the forces in Garth can handle. They are taking steps and are attempting to inform De Gaulte. Unfortunately, the destroyer that brought us this news was critically delayed by a hyperdrive malfunction.”
“A malfunction.”
“Yes. It is old and …”
“I don't need excuses just answers!” the emperor thundered from behind Theo. The secretary of war barely flinched.
“We need to send more ships. A large enough force to protect Garth,” Malwin stated. “We need to do it quickly before it is too late.”
“No!” the emperor thundered. “Not anymore! Not one ship!”
“Sire, you are talking about the empire here. We have to defend it. This information is months old. It was sent out before the battle in Dead Drop! The enemy could be in possession of Garth by now! If the Retribution Fleet is cut off, then we will lose it! If they fall back to push the enemy out, we lose Dead Drop!” Theo said in almost desperation to get through to the man.
“We will also lose the facilities and industrial centers in those areas, sire,” Malwin stated.
“You already sent dozens of ships. You've sent two more squadrons of battle cruisers as well as a carrier force when you got the word of the Dead Drop battle. You've sent the first battle cruiser we've built. A quarter of our wall is away; some of them are dust. No. They defend with what they've got,” the emperor stated flatly.
“Sire, if they fall then the road is open to us. They'll be on our doorstep in a matter of months,” Malwin stated, aghast at what he was hearing.
“They'll hold. Tell them what Stalin said during World War II. They are to dig their own graves. If they can't defend the empire, then shoot themselves and save us the trouble.”
“I …,” Theo shook his head. “I can't send that. Some of the units will fold. They might break and run. Morale alone will tank.”
“I order you to send it!” the emperor snarled as he turned and left, his cape swirling behind him.
Theo looked over to Malwin. “Madness,” he murmured ever so softly. Malwin grimaced but didn't reply.
~~~^~~~
When the prime minister received the news, he had to take the time to figure out what it meant.
Duke Franklin Tuckett pondered why his wife hadn't put in the information about the approaching southern fleet in the courier from De Gaulte. Had she assumed the destroyer had already gotten to them? That foolish assumption and the delay of the destroyer's arrival was going to cost them and her dearly.
Dearly indeed, he thought as he downed his drink. His thoughts on spin control kept spinning out of control. Glennis, one mistake is all it takes he thought over and over again.
~~~^~~~
Catherine heard the news and shivered. So, Cyrano, through no fault of his own, was looking at another retreat and most likely his own death and destruction of his career. If the enemy didn't do it, her father surely would, of that she was now certain.
She knew that the reinforcements coming to Garth were not enough. Oh, they might get there in time, but she wasn't certain of their luck at this stage. Nor could she assume blithely that things would be all right. She knew better now.
If Garth fell but was retaken, the enemy would no doubt burn as much of the real estate as they could in a retreat. Unlike the Empire they could easily rebuild later. They'd proven that in Pyrax and Antigua according to all reports.
If Garth fell, Cyrano would lose that help in his rear. He'd also not get the reinforcements he needed to go back on the offense. He'd be forced to stand on the defense in Dead Drop and only reliant on the local resources to help him.
And her father's stupidity in denying further assistance would cost them all. Dead Drop could only build so much. Eventually Cyrano's ships would run out of supplies, they'd run out of munitions, or just run out of hope and be forced to withdraw.
She closed her eyes in pain. She could easily see it no matter how much of her wanted to deny what was coming. Cyrano would fight again in Garth, making a stand, but if he was forced out by the combined efforts from two jump points, he'd be pushed back to the Empire's home star system. H002 and H001 were utterly useless to try to stay in. There were no resources there, which was why the empire just passed through them.
Somehow, she had to find a way to help him hold. Barring that she had to work on another plan. She didn't like it, but she was too self-honest with her not to fall back on her training and realize a GOTH plan was in order.
Finding a way to implement it before it was too late would be tricky. She did know one thing, she was certain with a little prodding she could find allies in the Admiralty. How she approached them was going to be tricky however.
~~~^~~~
Doctor Mengla walked through the labs and nodded politely as she listened to the dog and pony show. Pyotr was a fool; he was mad with power and was going to tear them down. Sure, she didn't like aliens and she supported Project Pestilence but all she needed was to see what the beings before her were capable of to tell her that she wasn't right about everything.
“We've split off a small lab to work on the clones,” Doctor Nutell stated with a wave of one hand to indicate the labs on the left side of the hallway. “I initially wasn't for it, but I admit I've come around after seeing the test scores.”
“How is that going?” she asked.
“Well, we haven't identified the inherent factors in their genes that make them exemplary pilots. But we have moved forward with cloning them anyway,” the doctor explained. “They are far more acceptable to the Empire of course,” he said, indicating a window. She paused to look through it. There were several toddlers in the room playing. They all looked the same.
“How many do you have?”
“Four so far. We're trying four others with mixed genes to see if the traits are dominant or not,” he explained, poin
ting to a couple of the girls and the single boy in the room. “It is too early to tell if the traits are genetic or not.”
“Ah.”
“I understand we need them soon, but I'm hesitant to flash grow them since there are inherent flaws in the procedures,” the doctor said cautiously.
“Find a middle ground. Have you answered the problem of cloning a clone?” Doctor Mengla asked as he motioned her to move along. She paused and lingered near a window showing a room filled with tubes. It took her only a moment to realize they were artificial uterine replicators.
“We have determined that each of the copies are a direct copy of the original source material. We have two that are daughters we induced an egg to turn into an embryo with DNA from a stem cell from one of the original subjects. The first one hundred came out flawed but we managed to get one embryo to gestate. I'm hopeful that it will allow us to use that subject as a baseline material for further work.”
“Ah.” Her fingers traced the black bezel around the window. The doctor paused and then turned back to her. She frowned. “Are you taking away uterine facilities from the primary project, Doctor?”
“Oh, no. These are unsuited for them. We're also on the lookout for host mothers of course. But these were all unsuited for the mermaids. I suppose they could be modified for Mara's progeny, but it would take a lot of work.”
“Ah. Have you tried merging the projects? Combining the two?”
“We are considering it, but it's being held up by funding. I understand the emperor isn't enthused by the project,” the doctor said, clearly aggrieved by the process. “And I understand the navy has been forced to shift funds away from long term projects to keep up their building schedules,” he said in a clear annoyed voice.