by Chris Hechtl
He turned his attention to something Sprite kept insisting was linked to the Xenos. The human Meia clones were anything but linked to the Xenos, but she refused to accept it. He wasn't certain why. He'd read Nara's reports. The cloning tech was all human grade. To date ONI had identified twenty clones or their descendants.
One of which was Moira Sema, his secretary of state. Her genetic profile confirmed she was a descendant of a Meia clone. How the clone had gotten to Bek was a big question. According to what Monty had dug up with a discrete check, Moira's grandmother had been found in a pod on the edge of the Bek B star system. She had been a toddler.
That fit with the other Meia stories. Who was sending them out and why were big questions. But they didn't seem to be a threat—unless they fell into Horathian hands. A number of them had which was a pity. According to what he'd read, they were all gifted pilots.
He wondered if Moira had the touch.
A blinking light on his HUD made him break his woolgathering. “Yes? What is it?”
“Admiral, I thought you'd like to know we just word that Mercy flight has jumped for Tau. They are scheduled to arrive at or near the same time as Gamma flight's arrival."
The admiral nodded slowly. That was certainly good news. It was a pity Helen hadn't left with them though.
"We also received an ONI alert through the ansible.” the admiral felt his stomach tighten up. “The civilian ship Cog made dock in ET,” Protector stated.
“Cog …?” Admiral Irons asked, confused. At least it wasn't bad news from the war front, he thought.
“Cog is the civilian ship entrusted by Puglia to bring encrypted chips with reports from her about her mission. She arrived from Tau and didn't turn them over to our people.”
“Okay …?”
“Aren't you going to ask why?”
“I was waiting on you and your perverse sense of humor,” the admiral replied dryly.
“I didn't know it was that bad. It must be Sprite's doing,” Protector stated with an innocent air.
The admiral snorted. “Quit dragging it out and give!”
“Sorry, sir. Anyway, ONI had a BOLO out for them after they got word that the ship hadn't reported in. They got to ET and were stopped. Their excuse?” The A.I. paused and a simple sentence was played.
“Oh, sorry, we forgot.”
The admiral paused and stared at the hologram for a full ten seconds.
“Admiral?”
“That's their excuse? They forgot? They come into Rho, see all the changes, get met by a Federation cruiser, and they claim they forgot to turn over the chips they were presumably paid to carry?”
“Yes, sir. ONI is looking into the matter. They seem as suspicious as you are.”
“For damn good reason!” The admiral shook his head. “Someone needs to go through that ship and find out why.”
“Yes, sir. Probable cause is there. There is some protest already. I believe the Justice Department may get involved.”
“Until we've got a good reason why that ship stays put. If it is an honest mistake, they can go but make sure no one uses them again.”
“Aye aye, Admiral.”
“Oh, we forgot,” the admiral mocked. He shook his head in annoyance.
Chapter 32
Horath
The emperor looked on as the list of capital ships scrolled in front of him.
If he'd had his way, they'd all be the same but of course that was not to be. They were all salvaged ships for one thing. Battleships of various classes, some not even built by the hands of man. He hated the alien lines, but he had to keep them, at least for now. He was more comfortable with the Reaper, Bellerephon, and Warhammer class dreadnoughts, Brahma class super dreadnoughts, Black Dragon their Titan class monitor, their single Kaiju class super monitor and the current object of his ire.
Well, perhaps comfortable was too strong an adjective he thought as he looked at the Republic class super dreadnought Allegiance.
The Republic class was one of the older ship classes. He wanted Allegiance to be renamed something dark and more aggressive, something more appropriate and befitting the empire. But some didn't agree with him.
Centuries ago the ships had been salvaged and brought to the empire using improvised hyperdrives and tech. There was no telling how many ships and crews hadn't survived to get a hulk this far he thought. He didn't care. They had a hundred ships; some of them had been turned into orbital fortresses over the centuries. Forty-eight had been refit for sublight defensive duty as the Home Fleet. Eight of those had been sent off to conquer the Federation. Three had been destroyed.
And look how well that had turned out he thought angrily. Fools, he thought blackly. “Inept fools,” he muttered.
He caught the subtle look from his body guard but ignored it.
There were still hundreds, quite possibly thousands of more ships coming in to them from across the galaxy—ships like Jotnar, the Kaiju class super monitor. Now that was a ship he could appreciate! Unfortunately, he would only see images of it. Orders had gone out to all salvaged ships to be redirected to bases on Sigma and from there to El Dorado. He hadn't liked issuing the orders, but the Admiralty had been right. Their home shipyards were saturated.
He turned his attention to Black Dragon. The mighty battle-scarred ship had been turned into an orbital command fortress at the Finagle jump point leading into the star system four centuries prior. Now she was one of the last to be designated to be refit to return her to a proper warship once more. Her departure would leave a hole in the fortress command at that jump point however.
His people had such salvage operations down to a science. If the ship could not get underway on her own, they had worked out an improvised hyperdrive system that the engineers could tie into a ship in order to get it back to Horath or the nearest pirate port. They then pulled it out and shipped it to the next ship. His own family had made their fortune in such operations. Each delivery was a windfall, though some who had found the ship didn't live long enough to appreciate it.
He smiled ever so briefly. Another thing his people had down to a science he thought briefly.
And now those fools Theo, Malwin, and the lot wanted to send additional reinforcements to De Gaulte. They wanted to send good money after bad when he burned to have De Gaulte recalled and put-down like the fool he was. But, he couldn't afford it. Or, so they said.
Well, fine. He'd play the long game as he had done before. But De Gaulte and the others would realize that his memory was long. He didn't suffer fools and intended to punish them for their stupidity just as soon as he could.
~~~^~~~
Catherine consider the problem once she fully grasped the production rates. If what she was seeing was accurate and what she'd read about the Federations was in any ways accurate, things didn't look good for them. Especially since the enemy was so close to Horath and they were far away from hitting their production centers.
She didn't like what she was seeing. She didn't like it at all. The enemy had production and quality on their side, not to mention numbers. Eventually they could overwhelm the empire. At the least they could pound their way to Horath cutting it off from the rest of the empire and then slowly tearing into it, cutting it apart in raids. The defenses she had thought were formidable might not be enough over a prolonged siege.
That made her think long and hard, staying up all night. By morning she had come to the conclusion that she needed to look into the empire's Go To Hell plan. Grimly she had come to realize it might be necessary. Her father wouldn't approve, not even when the enemy was at Horath's door. But her mother and her grandmother would want to insure the survival of the empire.
Well, she could and would play a part in that since she was heir. She decided to earmark her own people for evacuation should it come to that. People she knew could be of use, not the useless waste of space and breath who were like tics, getting fat and drunk all the time.
She started the file and then encrypted it wit
h her personal encryption key and kept it off the net. That was no guarantee Imperial Intelligence couldn't copy it and crack it, but it made her feel better about someone casually finding it.
It didn't take much effort to add Elvira to the list as well as some other officers who were trying to do something about the tide of battle. In order to implement the plan though, she'd eventually have to enlist people. That was a scary thought; she would need to trust them not to betray her.
Which would be difficult, quite possibly one of the most difficult things for her to accomplish. Almost as difficult, if not even more so, than actually pulling the plan off. What she was thinking of was dangerous. And trust in the Empire was something in short supply in dangerous matters.
Where to go she thought as she examined the map. Sigma obviously and the immediate destination there fairly leapt out for her. El Dorado she thought with a nod of approval. She considered it and then looked at her list again.
Some of the people could go now she noted. Others she would need to feel out, to test and see if she could trust them.
One thing that bothered her though was how to get to it. It wasn't just her father; it was the Federation. If she left it until too late, they could blockade the star system. They would then be trapped like rats in a sinking ship. That was a problem, one she didn't have an answer for.
~~~^~~~
Imperial Intelligence monitored things on a daily basis if not an hourly one in some circles. Countess Newberry was tapped in on things she was interested in, but she'd trained her people to make her aware of things she should know.
Imperial Intelligence kept a careful watch of the usual politics. It was unusual that there was so little bloodletting. Oh sure, the occasional plot here and there but nothing serious. “It’s cutthroat but I thought it'd be worse,” she murmured as she read the latest report.
“This may be the calm before the storm. Personally, I think it is due to the Federation,” Duke Zilo Pardoll, the minister for internal affairs said as he read the reports with her. He was one of the checks on her power, someone to look over her shoulder. Another was of course the emperor and dowager empress and the intelligence committee in the House of Lords.
“You mean everyone's off balance? I'd think some would want to take advantage of it. Odd that they are pulling together,” she observed.
“Yes. I don't know how long this truce will last though. It is unnatural. Eventually someone is going to see someone weaken and then the detente will be over. Then we'll see the fur fly.”
She inhaled and then exhaled slowly. “Right.”
“Just try not to get caught up in the works Sabina,” the duke warned.
“Roger that.”
“What about the princess?”
“She isn't conspiring against Piotr. She's more interested in doing her job and finding a fallback plan. I say leave her alone. She's doing more work for the Empire than he is at the moment.”
The duke nodded slowly. “I'll remember that,” he murmured.
~~~^~~~
Despite the risk Malwin acted to do his best to try to spare the chimeras he knew that were in uniform. He did it by quietly alerting them and then by sending them away on deployments outside of Horath. It was the only thing he could think of to spare them. He could do nothing for their families however.
“You are an idiot you know, sticking your neck out for them,” the countess accused him on his third day.
He shrugged it off, not bothering to look up. “I'm trying to save what I can.”
“I know. And I'm also an idiot for protecting you. I wonder, who's the bigger fool?” she asked.
“The idiot who is putting us in this position. Idiots,” he corrected with an angry shake of his head. “A purge? Now? When we're in deep shit?”
“I won't tell him, but he'll find out eventually. When he finds out I've been protecting you, it could cost me my job and possibly my life too.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I'm going to make some calls to get someone to talk him out of it or at least get him to listen to an argument even he can understand.” When he opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question, she just shook her head. “Don't ask,” she said as she turned and left.
~~~^~~~
Word of the potential purge was quickly picked up by the controlling families. They called a conference with the dowager empress. “We have a problem. You need to get your boy in line,” a voice said in the darkness.
She was privately amused by their theatrics. It was a committee she knew, that way no one person could accept responsibility and therefore blame. But she didn't like the tone or the fact that she'd been dragged before them. “My boy is the emperor.”
“And we put him there. He cannot rule without our consent. Remember that. We can just as easily remove him and find someone else to fill his shoes. His madness needs to be stopped.”
“I'll talk to him. We'll get the deployments going,” she sighed.
“It is more than that! The whole Purity and Enlightenment Plan. His plan. That ends today. We are going to make this crystal clear to you. He has stepped out of line and threatens all that is Horath. He has threatened us. We do not take kindly to that. So, we are going to put him in check. You are going to deliver it or we will remove him and your family.”
Her eyes stilled. Cold anger raged there behind chips of ice. “Tread carefully in how you say things,” she said ever so softly. “I do not take kindly to threats, nor does Pyotr.”
“I would advise your son to do the same. We do not make idle threats. This is your and his first and last warning. We've let him rule, and he's brought nothing but chaos and destruction to the plan. It is time we step in and take a correcting hand on the helm. He can either right the ship himself or we'll do it for the good of Horath.”
She realized there was no way she could talk them out of it. They had made up their minds and were united against her son. That bode ill for her and the family's control of the throne. “I'll talk to him.”
“You do that. Soon.”
She turned to leave, but it was clear they weren't finished. “Yes?” she turned back.
“I want to make it clear; no action is to be taken against Admiral Cartwright or others in the cabinet or elsewhere who have tried to stop his stupidity. Do you understand?”
The old woman hesitated and then nodded once. “But he is still on the hook for the Federation fiasco.”
“And we'll deal with that in due time. But for the time being, we need him where he is, so no reprisals. You can go,” the lead shadowy figure said as the lights went out. After a moment, a light lit over the exit. The old woman looked at it and then walked out with as much dignity as she could muster.
~~~^~~~
When Elvira's version of the Cutlass fighter rebuild made it through the final selection process, certain competitors in R&D had enough. They plotted an old-fashion way of ridding themselves of the troublesome woman, starting with her death.
Admiral Deweter became involved because he'd promised contracts to go to certain parties and now couldn't deliver on those promises. Imperial Intelligence watched the plotting and reported it to higher.
The section head knew such plots were common. They were supposed to curtail them though, usually a reschedule or a hint got the message to stop the shit and play nice. But as he considered ignoring the threat, the file program triggered a higher special tasking. He whistled softly as he read the missive from none other than the countess to protect Captain Varbossa. It was signed off by the minister of war as well as the praetor.
That was enough to make him realize that if anything untoward happened to the woman on his watch it wouldn't bode well for him, which forced him to act.
The following morning the admiral received a visit. “I'm here to tell you to knock it off, Admiral. I'm stopping short of arresting you for attempted murder and treason. But if you continue with this, I'll have to take you out. I don't want that. Trust me, you don't e
ither,” he said.
The admiral stared at the no-nonsense man. He hadn't identified who he was; just that he was with Imperial Intelligence. He had cold black eyes, dead eyes of a predator like a shark. “What makes her so special?” he ground out.
“She's doing something rather than sitting on her ass and sucking resources. Now, if you still want a teat, you need to play nice with the captain. Do you understand me, Admiral?”
“Um …”
The agent's eyes hardened. “It was a simple question. I have authorization to offer simple solutions. Permanent ones if there is a problem.”
The admiral's eyes widened. No underling ever talked to him like that. The threat was very real though he realized. It slowly dawned on him that the other man could easily kill him in his own office and then walk out. “I'm good,” he whispered. “I don't want any trouble,” he said, putting his hands up.
“Ah, good. See, you are a smart man. Now, call your hitman, and call him off. And you'll pay his fees for that. We'll let you keep your job, but you'll be retiring early—this year actually. You don't have a problem with that, do you?”
“No,” the admiral said, clearly miserable about wasting a good chunk of his savings and money he'd siphoned out of his department's account for no reason. But it was that or piss the hitman off into coming after him instead.
The problem was, he couldn't replace that money if he was about to retire. And he'd counted on that money for his retirement in the distant future. Now that was all …
He wanted to ask the agent what he was going to do, but from the look in the man's eyes, he thought better of it and caught his tongue.
~~~^~~~
Logistics was on the minds of certain parties in the empire as well. More shipments were arriving in Horath every day, many from the neighboring sector which had a shorter turnaround. Finagle and the systems nearby were turning in shipments on a regular basis like clockwork, but their factories could barely keep up with their quota and a bit left over to feed the black market.