“By order of the Emperor, disperse,” called out a thunderous voice from seemingly everywhere.
The marchers yelled back, their voices amplified as well.
“Patricide. Regicide. The Emperor is a murderer.”
Some of the Guardsmen flinched, showing that they too had thought about the unexpected ascension of the current ruler. It was common knowledge that a high ranking admiral had killed the last Emperor. It was assumed that he was acting on his own, but the rumors had been rife.
“Disperse and go back to your homes,” called out the voice of authority. “You have one minute to turn around and start your dispersal. Failure to comply will result in deadly force being used.”
The crowd simply got louder. They had been worked up to a rage, and Ca’cadasans were no different than many other races. A mob acted differently than individuals. Individuals thought about survival, and were likely to back down when threatened with violence. Mobs thought they were immortal, protected by numbers. Until the point had been driven home by more violence than they could handle.
Norrasta found himself pressed up against the barrier by the push of the crowd behind. A guardsman level his rifle directly at the prelate, finger on the trigger. The Over-prelate tried to push back, wanting to get some of the following crowd between himself and the weapons that threatened his life. There was no give behind him. He was trapped. The male sighed, accepting that he was about to die for his cause.
“Last chance,” yelled the voice of authority.
The moment to deescalate came and went. The first shot didn’t come from the Guard. It came from out of the crowd, a particle beam that struck a soldier in the faceplate. Some of the protons, moving at relativistic speeds, were deflected by the electromagnetic field of the battle armor. Most hit and immediately transferred kinetic energy into hellish heat. The skin of the male blistered and pealed from what little made it through in the instant the beam was on target. The male survived due to reflexes that pulled him back as he ducked down. An instant more and it would have burned through the armor and ashed the head underneath.
The rest of the guard reacted instantly, bringing rifles to shoulders and pushing firing studs. A hundred beams speared the front of the crowd, turning heads and torsos into reddish tinted clouds of superheated mist, burning clothing to ash. Some of the crowd were wearing concealed body armor, including electromag fields that popped into existence when the firing started. Not enough to stop a full on beam, they allowed some few of the targets to retain their lives through the first volley as their neighbors were cut down.
Return fire came almost instantly. These were Ca’cadasan males, all trained in the military arts, able to keep cowed the slaves that outnumbered the big aliens twenty to one. Hundreds of pistols opened up, sending beams into the guard. The soldiers deployed a more powerful field in front of their positions, deflecting the main force of the incoming beams.
Norrasta ducked down behind the barrier he had been pressed against, turning back to watch as the people he had led were cut down. It took some minutes for the guards to burn through the first fifty meters of bodies, killing almost every one, leaving charred smoking bodies lying on the hard surface of the street. A score of guardsmen had also fallen from the return fire, too much for the electromag field to totally stop. There were no burn throughs, but enough heat had been transferred into armor to flash burn the Guardsmen behind the fields and armor. Many had been seriously injured, and in a rage their compatriots continued to fire, changing power packs at regular intervals until they were dry.
While it had seemed to go on for an hour, Norrasta was surprised to note on his implant that it had only been ten minutes. Thousands of the protestors were dead, thousands more injured, including a hundred or more of the priesthood. The Over-prelate had been able to creep away, moving to the end of the barrier and into the nearest building. He felt sick to his stomach, his limbs shaking in fear. Behind him sounded the explosions of the resistance, males who hadn’t participated in the march and were now paying the authorities back with heavy weapons fired from cover.
The protest had turned into a riot, the first the capital city had ever experienced. Even the hard to burn modern materials could become roaring fires under the attention of lasers and particle beams. Even the best of armor could fall to multiple beams converging on them. The casualties on one side still dwarfed those of the other. Tens of thousands versus a hundred.
* * *
The young Emperor stared in disbelief at his city. Fires still burned, smoke still rose into the air to cloud the atmosphere. Clusters of bodies lay scattered about, one massive, many smaller, citizens cut down by the fire of the Imperial Guard and the city police. Buildings that had been intact the night before showed the cracks caused by the detonation of explosive devices. Those had not been caused by his forces. No, the rebels had deployed enough explosive devices to cause considerable damage to a city that was still recovering from the disaster visited on it by the humans.
“This rebellion must be crushed,” yelled Jresstratta, looking at his staff with murderous intent. “I want all of the rebels rounded up and executed.”
“We don’t even know who most of them are,” stated Pellishar, his Chief of the Secret Police. “While we have the identity of those who participated in the march on record, the others, the ones who struck from the shadows, are unknowns.”
“Then find out who they are. I want them staked out on posts before the sun rises again.”
Pellishar gave him a disbelieving look. The Emperor suppressed his anger for the moment and turned toward the general in charge of the Emperor’s Guard. “I want this city shut down. Curfew tonight. And you will help the Secret Police round up the rebels.”
“We will need more warriors,” stated the general, his eyes dropping their gaze to the floor, avoiding making eye contact with the Emperor. “My company commanders are reporting males not showing for duty.”
“Deserters?” growled the Emperor. “In my elite Guard?”
“We don’t know why they have not shown for muster, your Supreme Majesty. All we know is that they are not there.”
“Don’t cover for them, General. Any who are missing from their units after a priority recall are deserters, and will be treated as such.”
The general bowed his head, then looked back up. “Still, Supreme Majesty, we will need more troops to shut down this city. And I don’t trust the city police. Many of their people have also disappeared. We believe that many are sympathizers of the Church.”
“I will see that nest of betrayers cleaned out before the week is over,” screamed the Emperor, throwing his cup to the floor. It was made of high density plastics, and bounced from the floor, its contents flying into the air. “The Church is an instrument of the Empire. Not the other way around. My father and grandfather allowed them too much freedom. I will have prelates in office whose allegiance is to me, and not to the fairy tales told to keep the ignorant in line.”
Jresstratta thought he might have gone too far at that moment, considering the stares that were leveled his way. Like many high in the government, and most of the scientists and intellectuals of the Empire, he didn’t believe in gods or demons. He felt that religion was a salve for the people, and nothing more. It worked to keep them in line. Except now it wasn’t working that way. Now it was working to disturb the peace and challenge his reign.
“Most of the people still believe, your Supreme Majesty,” said the Councilor for Science and Industry, Llallatora. “Of course, those of us who are enlightened,” the male, who had never been a warrior, continued, ignoring the glares of those in the room who were still believers, “the tenants of the faith are superstitious nonsense. But the majority of our people do believe. They may have sworn oaths of fealty to the Emperor and Empire, but they believe that their very souls depend on their obedience to the Church and its tenants. That trumps their oaths.”
“Then that will have to change as well,” growled the Emperor,
spearing each of his advisors in turn with a glare. “The person of the Emperor must be of supreme importance.” He looked down for a moment, then back up at his councilors with a sly smile. “Perhaps we can reframe the religion to emphasis my godhood.”
More doubtful looks came his way. The Emperor knew what they were thinking, and though it angered him, he really couldn’t blame them. The current Emperor had acted in a very ungodlike manner since assuming the throne. He needed to work on his interactions with others. One claiming godhood should be calm and composed at all times. He could pronounce doom on those who offended him, but he must do that with aplomb, like a living deity.
“Perhaps we should bring in troops from the nearby garrison,” suggested the general in charge of the Guard, changing the subject to one that was more comfortable for all concerned. Or maybe not.
“I don’t know if we can trust them,” said the Chief of Secret Police. “Most are believers, and I have no more trust in their loyalties than in any others.”
“And what about the fleet?” growled Jresstratta, turning on Pellishar. “Can we expect battleships above us, waiting to bombard the palace. Should I be evacuating the planet under the protection of my personal squadron.”
“We’re not sure you can trust them either, Supreme Majesty,” said Pellishar, grimacing.
The Emperor stared at the male in disbelief. This can’t be happening, he thought, giving a head motion of negation. He had a war to win, and was doing what was necessary to win it. And it could all be derailed by the tenants of a religion that should have died out millennia ago, but still flourished. It flourished because of early training that had brainwashed them with the absurdity of the faith, and the Imperial sanction of the Church.
“I will regain control of my capital if I have to see the Cathedral raised to the ground, the priests killed, and as many worshipers put to the stake as is necessary. Am I understood?”
“That would be a major mistake, Supreme Majesty. It would…”
“I said, am I understood? I will regain control of my capital city, and with it, my Empire. Or I will see it burned to the ground and populated with corpses.”
No one said a word. The fear in the room was palpable. Jresstratta could smell that fear, and it brought a smile to his face. This was how an Emperor should feel. The bringer of terror.
“Bring in the garrison. When next the rebels show their faces in my city their heads will be removed from their bodies.”
The meeting broke up with the councilors walking silently from the room. Jresstratta knew they would talk as soon as they were out of earshot. He could deal with that, as long as they didn’t discuss treason. And his surveillance would ensure that they didn’t, at least not without his knowledge. Little did he know that surveillance could work both ways.
Chapter Seven
However many holy words you read, however many you speak, what good will they do you if you do not act on upon them? Buddha
MAY 11TH, 1004. CA’CADASAN SPACE.
Vice Admiral Mei Lei sat in her force command chair, her hands gripping the arm rests. She was starting to doubt the worth of her idea.
Too late now, she thought, looking at the plot. They were too far into the system, and if they tried to change vectors to get out they would be caught by their emissions.
I could have sent another ship in, she thought, closing her eyes. That was also a non starter. If anyone was going to take the risk of carrying out this crazy idea, it was her. Every member of the crew had signed on when they realized their admiral was going in, as had all the people aboard the other battle cruisers, the J. E. B. Stuart and the Sinbad.
“Only ten more hours to go, ma’am,” said the tactical officer, stifling a yawn just before speaking.
Only ten more hours. So far there had been no indication that the enemy had spotted them. If they could close the rest of the distance without being spotted, the plan just might work.
“I really don’t like this idea, Admiral,” the Emperor had said when she broached the idea to him. “If they set that thing off while you’re in the system, that’s the end of you and your crews.”
“And if we do nothing, they will eventually get around to killing two billion sentients. Everything we fired at them missed far enough away that they were able to track and kill them. The only way we have to get them is to come in close and personal.”
“I still don’t like it, but I like the idea of them killing another system even less.”
Of course they both knew that if they left this system alone the Cacas might not have any reason to set off the event. Or they might do it in frustration when nothing came at them. Or, a third possibility, they might start killing the inhabitable planet with slow bombardment, daring the humans to do nothing. Their fleet within the system, now verified at ten superbattleships, fourteen cruisers and twenty-three scouts, as well as eighty-one commercial ships, was sticking close to the planet now, daring the humans to target them with relativistic missiles.
“Go ahead, Duchess. But be careful.”
They had been careful, the three battle cruisers coasting in at point one five light, the same speed the stealth/attack went in at. Every system aboard the ship not needed for life support and passive sensors was shut down. The wormhole had been configured to a heat sink, pulling out all of the waste radiation from the one working reactor, which was set on minimum power production. Finally, every forward compartment had been flooded with water, forming a radiation barrier for the ship that was plowing through space. Particle density was light, but it was still enough to send a sleet of radiation through the ship and cause damage vital systems, including crew.
The forward armor was still eroding away without the electromagnetic field that would normally be shunting many of those particles away. It shouldn’t be a problem, though many of the sensor and vid heads would need replacing.
“I’m going to take a break,” the admiral announced, standing up. She thought she was the only member of the flag bridge crew that hadn’t over the last fifteen hours. Mei knew that was foolish, that she hadn’t needed to be on the bridge that entire time. Since the mission and the people involved were her responsibility, she hadn’t been able to force herself to leave. Now the wearying wait, without food or rest, was wearing on her, and she wanted to be at her best when they needed her.
If they need me, she thought, walking from the bridge and heading down the corridor to her cabin. The captains and crews of the warships would make the decisions that fought their ships. While she would need to give the decisions that coordinated the ships, that would be minor.
Satin was waiting for her, bounding off the couch and running up to her, purring loudly. She scooped the cat up and brought his furry side to her face, nuzzling his sweet smelling warmth.
“I should have sent you over to one of the other ships,” she said, holding him tight.
She now had a total of twelve battle cruisers, nine of them still sitting right at the hyper barrier. There were twenty-three light cruisers and thirty-nine destroyers keeping them company. Though she was feeling guilty that she had brought the cat into danger, there was no guarantee those other ships wouldn’t go into battle. And what about the other animals aboard? There were probably forty odd cats and small dogs aboard this ship, companions for the crew. And maybe some birds. She wasn’t sure how many, and made a mental note to find out. She dismissed that thought in a moment. She had much more important things to think about now.
Her steward brought her a meal, a traditional Chinese dish of noodles and honeyed chicken. Comfort food, and she dug in, passing tidbits to her cat while she ate. After, she dragged herself into her bedroom, Satin following. As she curled up in the bed, not bothering to take her boots and uniform off, the cat jumped up into bed and lay down beside her, tucking himself close to his mistress and purring her to sleep.
Mei woke up automatically after four hours, all she would allow herself, her implant directly stimulating her sleep system. Satin was
still tucked in close, purring again now that he noticed that his mistress was awake. Her steward had a breakfast ready for her as soon as she left her bed chamber, eggs, potatoes and ham. Not her traditional fare, but a favorite nonetheless.
“How are we doing?” she asked as she walked onto the bridge, her uniform looking fresh, more due to the capabilities of the fabric than anything she did. She was pretty sure she knew what the answer would be, since there were no klaxons going off.
“Still moving in, ma’am,” said the tactical officer. “No indication that we’ve been spotted.”
Mei nodded. No indication didn’t mean that they hadn’t been spotted. The Cacas could be laying in wait, ready to fire on them as soon as they got within beam weapon range. It wasn’t like the aliens to act like that, but as she had said earlier, they were learning.
The admiral studied the plot, watching as the Caca ships slid into their ready positions. Once they reached those positions they disappeared from the plot, grabbers off. They weren’t yet in their final positions, all arrayed around the equator of the star so they could assume a regular spacing in their orbit. When it was time for them to start the event, they would take about an hour to shift on full grabber power and stay in place, spaced out in the optimal formation.
“We’re still spotting them on infrared, ma’am.”
Mei looked at the officer for a moment, stopping the words she was about to say in her mouth. She knew enough about the tactical use of sensors. Any of the ships that weren’t lined up between them in the star were the hottest objects in that region. Any between them and the star would be cold spots. That thought brought up a concern.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 14: Rebellion. Page 10