The leadership of this galactic organization had been through one partial culling during Struthers’ takeover: it could not go through another. If it did, the people of the Empire would say ‘enough’ to the whole idea of Empire.
No!
He suddenly knew the source of his disquiet. His plan was wrong. 1,500 senators would occupy the seats before him, and they would be focused on serious Empire business. They would be unarmed and unable to defend themselves. He was not just the Queen’s protector, he was their protector as well. To thrust these particular innocents into the midst of a battle, even a short battle, would be doing exactly what terrorists did.
He would not let this hallowed chamber become a killing ground. He had to come up with a new plan, a plan based not just on soldiering but on politics.
Chapter 14
As had become standard practice, Stven called the crew to battle stations an hour before completing the last jump. During that hour, weapons were manned, Tom O’Brien and M’Sada were both in the net flying the ship, and the gunners practiced against simulated attacks created by George.
O’Brien took the helm just before emerging from hyperspace. Stven and M’Sada stayed in the net with him to examine the system for threats. Resolve emerged on the outskirts of Triton displaying a completely fictitious beacon code, and O’Brien set up an inbound course at normal intersystem speed that would get them to Triton in three weeks.
George’s sensors filled quickly, displaying an astonishing number and variety of ships. Stven counted 137 Rebel squadrons and 48 Chessori military squadrons patrolling the system. Thousands of traders were either inbound or outbound from the planet, and there might have been just as many sitting in port on the ground. Triton truly did count on a steady stream of supplies to keep functioning.
Stven studied the Chessori traders. Most operated singly, though there were several groups of three and four traveling together. About half of them were on direct inbound or outbound trajectories, and the rest appeared to be loitering. He guessed that the loiterers were really military ships now. The bored voice of a controller reached them the next day demanding their intentions. Stven requested a berth assignment at the spaceport in Gosport for his sales and marketing team.
The crew had held a lengthy debate over who would contact the Joshua of Krys’ vision. Washburn was their first choice since he was well known to his commander, but Chandrajuski’s instructions had been specific: be exceedingly discreet. Resolve would land on the far side of the planet from the palace complex and someone would use local transportation to reach Ragito Horlac, their only contact. None of the Terran Protectors was sufficiently versed in public transportation. That left the ship’s crew, and Krys wanted to send someone who would not attract attention. That meant someone who had never been outside the ship during previous operations. The job fell to their pilot, M’Sada.
Resolve touched down three weeks later. M’Sada’s ten legs carried him out of the ship and through a cursory customs inspection, then he spent two days carefully working his way toward Crystal City and Ragito Horlac. He spent two additional days figuring out how to meet with Josh.
“Delta forever,” he said in English as he scurried past on his ten legs. Josh, who was walking down a boulevard toward the apartment the team shared, didn’t miss a beat, just followed M’Sada into a crowded department store beneath the gzeikolt. There, M’Sada rose up on his lower legs and batted hands with Josh as if they were friends meeting.
“It’s good to see you, old friend,” M’Sada said, clicking his mandibles together in pleasure, though the two had never met.
“It’s good to see you, as well. What brings you to town?”
“Business, I’m afraid, and I must be off. Here’s my card. Will you give me a call when you have some free time? Perhaps we can get together?”
“I will. I hope you’re successful with whatever it is you’re about.”
“I might have a part for you to play. We’ll talk later.” M’Sada clicked his mandibles once more and left.
Josh turned the card over and discovered a brief message on the back.
5397867B
M’Sada
He shook his head. This would take some figuring out. It made no sense to him at the moment. He knew a little bit about the race of Schect, but he was not sensitive enough to their features to have recognized the one he’d just met. He studied the front of the card, which was quite simple. A numerical code, the name M’Sada, and a contact number. He did not recognize either. He perused items in the store to discover if anyone was tailing him, but after half an hour he gave up and went up to the team’s apartment.
Mike was already there, and he recognized the name on the card immediately. Reba arrived a few minutes later, and Val came in half an hour later with a carry-in dinner.
Val, of course, understood the message at once and the color left his face. “She’s here? She must be crazy.”
“Who, Val?” Mike demanded.
“My sister, Krys.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“No one else would know this number. It’s only known at the orphanage we grew up in on Hespra III. Krys’ official name was 5397867B. Mine was 5397867A. She’s here, Mike.”
“If it’s her, the note is from Terry Washburn,” Josh said, his gaze narrowed in thought. “He wouldn’t bother us if it wasn’t important.”
“Her pilot’s name is M’Sada,” Mike said. We’ll have to meet him somewhere, probably right here.”
“I’ll give him a call, then Val and I are going out to see if anyone’s following him,” Josh said.
When M’Sada entered the apartment, two stunners were aimed at him. He began a rapid preening of his whiskers and asked, “Is this place secure?”
“As secure as we can make it,” Mike answered.
M’Sada’s upper hands stopped, and he bowed. “A pleasure to see you again, Sire.” He turned to Reba. “You must be Lady Rebecca.”
“What is your purpose here?” she asked as her weapon found its way back into its holster. Mike’s weapon, too, went back into its holster.
“I carry a message from Krys. She requests a meeting with Joshua.”
“When, and where?”
“Her need is urgent, but not so urgent that security be compromised. She is at a port on the far side of the planet.”
“Hmm. We’re expected at our place of work tomorrow, then we have two days off. Will that work?”
“Yes, Sire. Her request is only for Joshua.”
“Will it be unseemly if all of us attend?”
“Actually, it might be a good idea. Our stated purpose here is that we are a sales and marketing team. A meeting with potential buyers aboard our ship would be natural.”
“Can she come here?”
“No, Sire. Some of us might be known to the Rebels, including her. It would be a great risk to her and to you.”
“Very well. We’ll wait to see what Val and Josh think about this. Would you care to dine with us?”
M’Sada’s upper hands began a new, refreshing preening, and he clicked his mandibles together in a laugh. “No, Sire. The eating habits of the Schect are not comforting to humans. I’ve already had my meal for the day.”
Val returned, followed shortly after by Josh who was stunned that Krys needed to meet with him. “What is the purpose of the meeting?” he demanded.
“That is for her to say, and then only in a location of complete security, sir. We never, ever, reveal more than we must.”
“How is she?” Val asked with some hesitation.
“She’s well, Sire, though she is blind. Did you know?”
“Blind!”
“Yes, Sire. That is part of the reason she’s asking Joshua to come to her. Besides the fact that she’s well known to the Rebels, getting around attracts a lot of attention. All will be explained in due course.”
* * * * *
Val was first to arrive, though no one on the ship knew it. As a child he
’d made his living as a licensed beggar, and he reverted to form at the entrance to the spaceport, dressed in filthy rags, long and scraggly hair, a patch over one eye, and walking with a crutch. He was not trusting anyone with his sister’s safety. He arrived hours before the rest of the team, rented the spot from its rightful owner, and he remained there examining everything and everyone in the vicinity while Krys held her meeting aboard Resolve.
Krys wasted no time with the meeting. She believed that her purpose here was to receive a vision of Joshua. When Mike, Reba, and Josh entered the lounge with M’Sada and Stven, she was already deep in meditation. Tarn sat across from her, and Washburn, Borg, and Otis remained silently in the background. Mike and Reba crossed over to stand beside Otis, but everyone remained silent, not wanting to disturb Krys.
Tarn didn’t waste time. “Colonel, please take her hands in your own.”
Josh knelt on one knee before Krys and placed both of his hands around hers. Some moments passed, then Krys opened her eyes with a look of satisfaction on her face. “I’m sorry I can’t see you, Colonel. Do I know you?”
“You’ve seen me in the presence of the Queen, My Lady, but we’ve never been introduced.”
She nodded. “We have traveled far in search of you. I anticipated that I would receive a vision today, a vision of something having to do with you, and it appears that I have. In the vision, I was looking through your eyes. We were, I believe, in the Senate Chambers. The room was filled with senators, all of them writhing in agony on the floor. You held a long blaster pointed at a group of, let me see . . . twelve Chessori, two of whom were dead.”
He remained on one knee before her. “I’ve heard of these visions of yours, My Lady. Is there more?”
“There is. Words accompanied the vision this time, and whenever they do, they come in the form of a riddle. The words are the following:
“The heart knows wonder, but eyes cannot see. All players play. Focus on the grave. Focus on need.”
“Do you know what the words mean, My Lady?”
“Not yet. It’s up to all of us to untangle the riddle.” She gently lifted his hands and pushed him away, clearly signaling him to stand.
Josh rose and looked around at the others in the room. He nodded a greeting to those he knew and said, “Any ideas?”
“Well,” Mike chimed in dryly, “It looks like you made it into the chamber. I hope you can get us out.”
Josh turned back to Krys. “Was the Queen there?”
“I didn’t see her.”
“Who else was there, My Lady?” Tarn asked. He had gone to stand behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders.
She leaned back into his hands and closed her eyes. “I see soldiers lining each side of the Chamber. I cannot see who or what is behind Joshua.”
“I sense meanings within meanings on this one, Krys, almost like I did with Admiral Seeton. We came up with a battle plan for him. I wonder if we can do the same for Joshua?”
“I have the general order of the battle plan already,” Josh answered. “All the Protectors, all 600 of them and the Queen, are going to sneak in through secret passageways Mike discovered. The Protectors, most likely led by Otis and his Great Cats, will clear the way for the Queen, quickly and as silently as possible. Before the Queen enters, Protectors will take out enemy soldiers on the balcony level, the stage will be secured, the Chamber will be secured, and exterior exits will be secured. I’m hopeful that by the time the Queen gets to the stage, we’ll have Struthers and his high command under arrest.”
He looked hard at Tarn. “Understand, Sire, this will all happen very quickly, and if Struthers is there he will not have the opportunity to escape. All our men are sharpshooters, and his guards within the Chamber will be taken out quickly and efficiently. There will be minimal shooting within the chamber and minimal danger to the senators.”
“What about the hard part? How are you going to get the Queen out, Colonel?” Otis asked.
Josh rubbed his chin. “I’m still working on that. I’d like to bring her out by ship, but we have not figured out how to disable the defensive weapons. I’m searching for a way, and our hope is to bring her out by ship. As a last resort, we’ll take her out the same way we brought her in, but it will mean holding the building for a much longer time and our men will take losses.”
“What wonder does your heart know?” Tarn asked, referring to the words of the vision.
Josh turned away and began pacing as his mind worked on the question. When he turned back to Tarn, he said simply, “Lots of things. Everything out here in the galaxy is a wonder.”
“Her vision was of you within the Chamber. Is there something there of special wonder to you?”
Josh blinked, but his response was swift. “The whole place is a wonder. Have you seen it?”
“No, sir.”
“The chamber itself is a place of beauty, but it is more than that: it is a place of deliberation. The ceiling is a vast black screen with galaxies and many, many stars rotating ever so slowly, so slowly that it’s hard to see the movement. When I’m in the Chamber I see it full of senators sitting at old tables that probably date back hundreds if not thousands of years. They’re doing their business beneath and in full view of the galaxy as it rotates above their heads. The filled Chamber speaks to me of the timeless struggles they and their predecessors have endured as they resolve crises that bear on so many billions and trillions of people. Trust me when I say my plan calls for, in the end, no wounded or dead senators. We’ll be very fast, and we’ll be efficient. They are simply too important to risk.”
“So your heart knows the wonder of the place. What is it that you can’t see?”
“Something unexpected, most likely. Struthers isn’t idle, you know. He probably knows the Queen intends to do something during the convocation. He can’t know her timing, but he knows she won’t sit this one out. She can’t.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“I can come up with a lot of scenarios, and I’ve planned for everything I can think of. My plan has lots of room for flexibility since these things don’t always play out the way we anticipate. My first priority is to ensure the Queen’s survival.”
“All players play. That seems pretty straight forward,” Tarn said. He looked back at Josh. “Does your plan take all players into consideration?”
“It takes every single one of the Protectors, and it will probably require all of our space forces. They absolutely have to draw every single Rebel and Chessori ship away from the planet, even the ones assigned to local defense.”
“What other players do we have, First Knight?” Tarn asked Mike.
All eyes went to Mike. “The Queen and her Knights, of course. Most of them will be a part of this in one way or another. Chandrajuski, Trexler, and maybe some of Buskin’s forces will all have a part. That just leaves Waverly’s Raiders and Serge’s traders. We’ve never planned on their participation. It isn’t needed.”
“Maybe it is,” Tarn said softly. ”Visions come in several forms: instructional, warning, or hope. I sense, at the very least, instruction and warning here. All players play. Let’s consider the other side. Who’s included in all players for them?”
Josh answered. “Struthers and his high command, the Chessori, significant numbers of ground forces, and lots and lots of ships. Not that it matters, they’ll likely have no impact on the outcome, but he’s bound to have a lot of senators in his pocket, as well. We’ll be keeping a careful eye out for hidden weapons among them.”
“All players play. Who on his side has been left out?”
Mike spoke. “He might have some special shock troops that are our equals, though no one’s the equal of the Great Cats. He might also have some surprises in store for Chandrajuski in the form of ship or tactical improvements.”
Krys turned toward Josh’s voice. “We know who your eyes cannot see. Struthers will have gleasons.”
The discussion came to an abrupt halt as eyes gla
zed over. Reba shifted in her seat, finding all positions uncomfortable all of a sudden. “This changes everything,” she said. “They’ll completely counter the efforts of the Great Cats.”
“The Great Cats are not their focus,” Otis growled. “They will be after the Queen.”
Josh resumed his pacing and ended up on the other side of the room. He sat down in a chair with his back to them. Mike looked surprised, but Washburn was not, and he stepped forward. “Let him be, Sire. He’s very good at this. Give him time.”
Washburn’s communicator squawked, and he left the room to take the call. When he returned, Borg was waiting. It could only be a matter of security.
“Problems?” he asked.
“Maybe. Our spotters are concerned about a beggar at the main gate. He’s not doing anything out of the ordinary, but he’s not the same one that’s been there the past few days. Should we take him out?”
“Not yet. Follow him, and when he’s away from the port, secure him. In particular, secure any equipment he might have on his person.”
Mike coughed into his fist. “Uh, better not, guys.”
Krys sat up straight, her head turning toward Mike’s voice. “It’s Val, isn’t it.”
“Yes.”
“When do I get to see him?”
“Not before the rest of us leave. He’s insistent that he remain in character. He’s as interested in who might follow us when we leave as he is in who might have followed us here.”
“So he’s back in character.”
“He is, Krys, though this time he’s not a one-legged beggar.”
Voice of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Three) Page 23