by Kal Spriggs
That highlighted another issue with the planet and system. While the general population maintained a fairly high level of technology and education, a large fraction of their people were religious zealots of the least accepting sort. They were reactionaries who distrusted technology, distrusted outsiders, and were willing to resort to violence to get their way.
Their opposition of control by Nova Roma had ranged from intimidation and threats to armed uprising and everything in between. Under various names and organizations they had murdered hundreds of thousands of their own people and thousands of Nova Roma citizens. The sheer brutality of their actions had given the system a reputation of distaste to the point that the very name had become synonymous with untrustworthiness and savage violence.
It wasn't even that there weren't decent and good people there, Lucius felt. It was simply that the decent and good people who stepped forward to improve things were often the ones who were made examples of by the violent men who they tried to oppose. Tehran had become a quagmire, long before the war with the Chxor was even a possibility. After the Chxor capture of the Danar system, the Nova Roma garrison had abandoned Tehran. They had evacuated all of their personnel and left defense of the system to the locals.
From what Lucius had heard, they had defended themselves against the Chxor. The last broadcasts from the planet, before Chxor occupation, had showed destruction of several Chxor ships in the force sent to seize the system. They had done so only after officially surrendering, which had led to a Chxor policy of engaging and destroying all possible threats rather than risking a surprise attack.
Since the Chxor had no way to really gauge or understand human religion, they simply assumed that all humans were untrustworthy and reacted accordingly.
Knowledge of how their actions had resulted in a Chxor policy that killed millions of unarmed men, women, and children had deepened the distaste with which most Nova Roma officers viewed the planet. Lucius was honest enough to admit that he was among that number.
Yet as he stared down at the green and blue surface of the planet, he never would have thought that the planet itself might be so beautiful.
“Sir,” Ensign Forrest Perkins said from the doorway of the conference room, “Interim President Quzvini is here for the meeting.”
Lucius restrained a slight sigh. Nevertheless, he turned and gave the Ensign a nod, “Thank you, Forrest, please send him in.” It was something of an irony, he thought, that a native of Saragossa, serving under an officer born to Nova Roma, had brought the leader of Tehran for a meeting. Even more so, he thought morbidly, since the Saragossans helped to conquer the system since their shipping was under as much a threat as our own. That Nova Roma had turned upon Saragossa, decades later, made a muddled picture even worse.
Once again Lucius wondered if there was any way that his homeworld might ever regain its former position among human space. Certainly they had a long list of enemies made in their foreign policy, along with dark secrets that would further discredit them when they came to light. It made his own determination that much more solid when he considered his path with the United Colonies. Negotiation in fair terms and abiding by treaties they established would be difficult in the short term, but in the long term those policies might well save them all.
Otherwise, to Lucius, when all the nostalgia and patriotism were stripped away, there was nothing worth saving. A people must stand for their nation.... but in return, the nation had a duty to be something worth standing for,
On that thought, Interim President Quzvini stepped into the room and Lucius had his first surprise.
The stereotype of the citizens of Tehran was the elder, bearded man, typically with a harsh, lined face and often dressed in robes. President Quzvini was a young man. Even with the use of some form of life extension treatment, there was no way to hide a certain gravitas that age brought to people. Quzvini was young, with a spring to his step and an eagerness to his face that almost made Lucius envious. This was a young man who saw possibilities and potential in every day.
Quzvini didn't wear a dour expression, his face was cheerful and he wore a smile like he didn't know any other expression. He also wore a simple and worn, but well-cared-for suit, old enough that Lucius would guess it was second hand or passed down, but tailored to fit, not a cast-off. Quzvini stepped forward and before Lucius even knew it, they were shaking hands. “Baron Giovanni, may I say it is a pleasure to meet you, face to face, and give you the thanks of not just my people and world, but of my own family, for saving us from the Chxor.”
Lucius was completely taken aback. He had expected bluster, threats, even condemnations. He had, in fact, braced himself for a painful and unpleasant meeting, probably spent with men who didn't understand how little power they had being at the bottom of a gravity well without any way to strike at their enemies. The cheerful and yet humble thanks completely disarmed him.
Lucius realized that he had been silent too long and he shook the other man's hand as dutifully as he could manage, “It was the men and women of the Fleet who did the work, Mr President, not me.”
The Interim President waved a hand at that, “Please, Baron, no need to be formal. My appointment at this time is merely a product of my positioning prior to your fortunate arrival to the system. My father, peace be upon him, would slap me across my ears if I were to insist on such a title.” Quzvini gave a snort, “He being a baker, he had no patience for pompousness and less for arrogance.” Quzvini gave a slight smile, “My given name is Muhameed Jubani, though most people simply call me MJ.”
Lucius gave the younger man a bemused nod, “Very well... MJ, please, have a seat.”
The younger man took a seat and glanced at the tea and quirked and eyebrow, “Thank you, Baron, for the tea, but I will have water, if you don't mind. I'm not quite the traditionalist that you might otherwise expect.”
“So I guessed,” Lucius said with a shake of his head. “Ensign Perkins, please have one of the stewards bring some water for our guest.” He sat back and took a moment to study the young man across from him. Quzvini was taller than Lucius, almost taller than Forrest Perkins. He was also clean-shaven and his dark hair was neatly trimmed. His brown eyes were just as cheerful and energetic as the rest of him.
The young man seemed to read his mind. “Well,” President Quzvini said, “If I don't live up to the stereotypes of my world... well, all the better, especially so that outsiders can see that we have more to offer besides unpleasant old men, yes?” The young man sipped at his water. “Have you visited Tehran before, Baron?”
“No,” Lucius said. “I've not been stationed here and I had... reasons to avoid the system before my time in the military.”
“Ah,” Quzvini said, “Your father. Yes, it is probably to the best. He was not the most popular man in our history. Some of my people might have attacked you, sins of the father and that sort of thing.” He waved a hand, “Thankfully, those times are past.”
“Oh?” Lucius asked with narrowed eyes. “Forgive me if I'm doubtful, but it is my understanding that your people have very long memories.”
The young Interim President gave a smile, “Yes... that is one way to say it. My grandfather told me tales about the Mongols of Old Earth and how they plundered our lands and destroyed our great cities... and he cursed their name while he told those stories. Grudges are things that we do not forget, old grievances are nursed and cherished as a way to keep warm in a long winter.” Quzvini shrugged, “But my world has changed, much, since the Chxor came.”
For just a moment, his expression of good cheer slipped, replaced by an expression of iron determination. “Those times were trying for my people, Baron. Trying in ways that you may not understand. Have your people told you how many of us there are, now?”
Lucius shook his head.
“By the very best efforts of my people, we guess only two hundred million,” Quzvini said quietly, his smile gone. “There were nearly five hundred million of us when the Chxor came.�
� Lucius looked away from the raw pain in the young man's face. “Three fifths of our population has died, Baron Giovanni... and that puts minor things such as mere retaliation for raids into perspective. Not even the Mongols of my ancestors times were as devastating. What is a small grudge over a minor humiliation compared to a near-extermination?”
Quzvini sighed, a sad, regretful expression, “Even the long memories of my people can set aside slight differences when the Chxor have taken so much from us. You must understand, Baron, that they killed us in numbers to the point that even they grew tired of it. They destroyed every temple, every mosque, every synagogue, and every religious school in an attempt to break us of our ways. They killed our leaders, our clerics, our teachers, and our doctors. Even, I must admit, our lawyers... though perhaps in that they did us some slight service.”
“I am sorry,” Lucius said softly. Yet in the pain he saw in the young man, he couldn't help but fear for the fate of his homeworld. How had Nova Roma fared with its population of billions?
“As are we all,” Quzvini said. “I have buried my father, my grandfather, my mother, my sisters, and my brother.” He shrugged, “Yet it is not as if we did not provoke the Chxor to still greater atrocities.” His face went hard, “You have no doubt heard of the fanatical zealots among my people?”
Lucius nodded in response.
The young man's face was iron hard. “They were the ones who launched the suicide attacks that crippled many of the Chxor invasion ships. For their actions, the Chxor scorched every spaceport, every spacecraft, destroyed generations of effort in only a few hours... and that was merely the beginning.” He closed his eyes in thought, “The zealots launched suicide attacks against Chxor barracks... so the Chxor would destroy a village in retaliation. Every blow they struck, the Chxor would kill ten, a hundred, even a thousand of us for every Chxor they killed. This went on for months... years... until we could take no more.”
Quzvini met Lucius's eyes, his gaze solid and his face confident, “In the end, when faced with the extinction of not only our families but our very culture... we turned upon our own. It began when one of the holy fighters demanded a village provide them shelter before their planned assault on a Chxor spaceport.” Quzvini shrugged, “The villagers knew that the Chxor would trace the attack back to them and that they would pay with their lives for the actions of these men. So they did what they knew they must... they killed them all.” Quzvini shrugged, “You can imagine how it went from there.”
Lucius winced a bit. A civil war the likes of which Quzvini had implied would be violent and vicious. Families would be split, as some chose religion over blood. This would be a fight in which they would know their enemies by name and where friendship, trust, and civility would vanish in a brutal melee in only a few seconds. On top of that, they were under the control of the Chxor, who would see any violence as an uprising and react accordingly.
“We lost a few more cities, but our more... reactionary members at that point were removed,” Quzvini said. “Those moderates who sympathized with them resolved to restrain themselves and to the Chxor, I'm certain, it seemed as if we had done most of their work.” He shrugged, “In a way, we had. But we had also learned some ways in which we could fight the Chxor without their instant retaliation.”
“Oh?” Lucius asked.
Quzvini sipped at his water, “Yes. Hacking their systems and scrambling their orders and commands. Changing their shipping manifests. In some cases, sabotaging their vessel maintenance so that their cargo vessels malfunctioned and their shuttles fell out of the sky.” He shrugged, “This seems to have worked, if not to remove them from our planet then to at least slow their assimilation of it. Long enough, anyway, for your fleet to arrive... which brings us here.”
“So it does,” Lucius said. “As you have no doubt heard, we have no intentions of claiming your world, we're merely conducting our war against the Chxor.”
“Of course,” Quzvini said. “Which is why I wish to offer, on behalf of my planet, a request of annexation into the United Colonies.” He said the words lightly, as if he were asking for another cup of water.
“Excuse me?” Lucius said. He had expected threats, bluster, intimidation, possibly even violence and sabotage from the locals in efforts force the United Colonies out of the system. A polite request for annexation was not something he had even considered.
“A request for annexation,” Quzvini said, a slight smile on his face. “Which I can see surprises you. It would have been better, I think, if I had felt out some of your people on this matter, but it is something that has come together only over the past few weeks.” He sighed, “I'm sorry, Baron Giovanni, that I am not better at explaining this.”
“I think it's less that you aren't doing a good job and more that this was rather unexpected,” Lucius said dryly. “I suppose you have somewhat more concrete terms than 'annexation'?”
Quzvini nodded, “Of course, Baron. Our interim government has spent the past few days discussing what we would be willing to accept and I have drafted it up for you to look over.”
“I'm not the final say,” Lucius said in warning. “This will go before the United Colonies government, you understand. They'll have to put it to a vote.” He would send copies to Kate Bueller to look over before it even went that far.
“My people understand this... yet we have seen what it is to be alone in this universe, without allies and friends. We want to avoid that in the future, to stand with those who have saved us and perhaps one day call them our friends,” Quzvini said with a slight smile. “More than that, I wish, as do many of my people, to stand for those who need help as we did.” His intensity and honesty shone through in every word.
Lucius was grateful for that. The hope and optimism he saw in Quzvini's eyes restored some of his faith in humanity and that was not a bad thing at all.
***
Lucius paused as he stepped into Admiral Dreyfus's quarters. He had heard that the Admiral's injuries were severe, yet he had somehow expected that after several weeks of recovery that the old man would somehow look himself.
Instead, Admiral Dreyfus sat. He was propped up in a hover-chair, his left leg still in the binding cast and his face still seamed with scar tissue. There was a pallor to his skin, too, and despite his anti-aging treatments, the Admiral looked very, very old. Even so, he managed a smile, “Baron! My apologies if I don't rise. Please, make yourself comfortable. I know we have the meeting in a few minutes, but it doesn't hurt to let the staff officers sweat a little, eh?”
Lucius didn't miss how stiffly the other man's head turned to follow him as he came to sit across from him. The neck injury, Lucius thought, they mended the cracked vertebra but it hasn't healed fully yet. Even so, Lucius could see that it wasn't his physical injuries that pained the old Admiral.
“How are you doing today, Baron?” Admiral Dreyfus asked.
“I'm doing better to see you up and about,” Lucius said as he took his seat. “Though your doctor assures me that you should not be up and around just yet.”
Admiral Dreyfus waved a hand in dismissal, “I've been hurt worse before and continued the mission then, as I will now. There are repairs and refitting that need my attention as the senior officer in the star system.”
Lucius nodded, though he privately thought that there were other things that could use Admiral Dreyfus's attention. His earlier conversation with Interim President Quzvini highlighted the issue. Admiral Dreyfus seemed to have confused priorities… and issues that should have demanded his attention had fallen by the wayside. It comes back to trust, Lucius thought, and how can I trust a man who let a century-long conspiracy go on under his nose?
That thorny problem once again caused him to hold his tongue on the subject, because there was no good answer. Either he told Admiral Dreyfus now and they handled the situation together or he continued to keep him in the dark. Either choice made for some serious issues.
“Well,” Lucius said, “I can't say I'm
happy about the damage our people took here at Tehran, but I'm glad to see how hard they are working to repair it.”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded and the shadows in his eyes suggested that the losses of men and women under his command had left other, deeper scars. “As per our earlier discussion, I will reorganize the Fleet as soon as these ships are combat capable. We'll go into a bit more detail during the staff meeting.”
Admiral Dreyfus nodded, yet there was a hesitancy to that nod, almost as if he realized there was something that Lucius wasn't telling him. After a moment he activated his chair controls, “Well, we should get to that staff, meeting, eh? We wouldn't want them to think we were conspiring together in here, would we?”
“No, we wouldn't want that,” Lucius said with a slight smile in return. He followed the Admiral out and then down the corridor to the briefing room.
The two staff sections as well as senior officers from many of the ships of the Dreyfus Fleet had assembled already. Lucius took his seat and glanced around the table, “Everyone ready?”
The nods that met his gaze were all confident, yet Lucius couldn't help but wonder at the confidence behind some of them. His gaze lingered on those he knew to be members of the conspiracy and he couldn't tell if they were more or less confident than their fellows around them.
“Go ahead, Captain Franks,” Lucius said.
Admiral Dreyfus's Chief of Staff gave him a sharp nod, “Of course, sir,” he said. “We'll begin with our best estimate of the Chxor positions in and around Nova Roma.” He brought up a hologram that showed the Nova Roma system in abbreviated detail. “Captain Wu will begin the brief.”