Starhold

by J. Alan Field

  “Yes, Prime Minister.”

  “Good. Admiral Sanchez and I need to get back there at once.”

  “Very well, ma’am. I’ll advise General Stavrianos that you wish to relocate back to Esterkeep. Once he gives his approval, I will—”

  “Wait,” Darracott interrupted. “You don’t seem to understand Colonel Hinojosa. Those weren’t requests, they were orders.”

  Hinojosa stared blankly at her. “With respect, Prime Minister, I work for General Stavrianos,” he said apologetically.

  “And the General works for me, because at this moment, I’m not just the Prime Minister—I’m also the First Consul.”

  The men looked at each other as if trying to decide whether Darracott was concussed.

  “Gentlemen, the Articles of the Directorate are quite clear, and Admiral Sanchez will confirm this, since he and I are the only two people in this room who actually sit on the Directorate…” She paused ever so slightly to let that sink in. “If anything happens to the First Consul, the Second Consul succeeds to the Consulship, until such time as the Directorate meets to elect someone else. The Prime Minister is designated as the Second Consul.”

  Banks protested. “But… But that was just a concession to the civilian authorities. The position of Second Consul is just a ceremonial title. No one in the military ever thought a Second Consul would be needed, let alone succeed to the leadership.”

  “Then they shouldn’t have put it in the Articles,” Darracott said forcefully. Banks and Hinojosa looked at Admiral Sanchez for support.

  It was all up to Leonardo Sanchez now. If he backed her, Darracott felt confident the others would follow her orders, at least until the Directorate met. If he didn’t, she knew she would be relegated to the role of Victor Polanco’s pseudo-widow.

  “Gentlemen, she’s correct,” Sanchez said, “and speaking for the Union Space Force, we endorse First Consul Darracott—until the Directorate meets to decide on how to proceed.”

  Banks wasn’t satisfied. “Admiral, with all due respect to the Prime Minister, she’s just pulling out a technicality here. A member of the military should be in charge right now, not a civilian. Even if it’s all legal, her term in office will only be for a few days, and—”

  “That will do, Captain,” rebuked Sanchez. “Colonel Hinojosa, I’m positive that General Stavrianos will also support this.”

  “Very well, sir,” responded Hinojosa without hesitation. Turning to Miyazato and Banks, he asked, “Would one of you like to come with me to make the necessary transportation arrangements?”

  “Until I’m relieved, I’m still in charge of security,” said Miyazato. “I’ll stay with the, um, First Consul and the Admiral until we’re ready to move out.”

  Banks was clearly chafing under the new order of things. As the others waited for him to fall in with Hinojosa, he obstinately stared into space.

  “Is there a problem, Captain Banks?” growled Sanchez.

  Banks returned the Admiral’s hard gaze and then relented. “No, sir, no problem. Luis, lead on.”

  As Hinojosa and Banks departed, Darracott and Sanchez sat down together on a couch. “I’m afraid Auric is right, you know,” said Sanchez. “How long do you think your Consulship will last? A couple of days?”

  Darracott was tired. She felt the urge to lean over, put her head on her friend’s shoulder and sleep. Thank the Gods Leo had helped her just now, but would their friendship be enough to carry his support in the future?

  “A couple of days? Hell, I’m more concerned about the next twenty-four hours,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “We can’t stay holed up in this place and fritter away the time, endlessly debating who we can trust. Someone had to do something.”

  Sanchez nodded in agreement. “Well, while you’re in charge, make it count. They’re sure to appoint one of the fleet admirals when the Directorate meets again.”

  “Leo, for all we know, half the Directorate may be dead, or worse, half of them may be in on Choi’s plan. We may find that we have a full-scale civil war on our hands when we get back to the capital.”

  Sanchez sat next to her, fiddling with something in his hand. She saw that it was something silver.

  “What do you have there?”

  He extended his hand to show the contents to Darracott: two sets of double silver bars. “They’re Lieutenant Nash’s rank insignia,” explained the Admiral. “When things calm down, I want to personally deliver them to her parents. I want to let them know what a brave person she was and how thankful I am that she saved my life.”

  Miyazato spoke up from nearby. “Admiral, Captain Banks and I were talking about her a few minutes ago, and he mentioned that she didn’t have any parents. That is to say, her parents are both dead, sir.”

  “Oh, I—I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Did she have a husband? A partner?”

  “Sorry, sir. I just don’t know,” Miyazato answered, before starting to move away to attend to something.

  Sanchez called after him. “Colonel, Lieutenant Nash—what was her first name?”

  The Marine looked puzzled for a moment. “Come to think of it, sir, I don’t know that either.”

  19: Dusk

  The Centroplex, Esterkeep

  Five hours after the stadium attack

  “What the hell are those sirens for?” asked the First Consul as she walked down the hall toward her meeting.

  “It’s to signal the beginning of the curfew, ma’am,” answered a soldier as he trailed behind her. Everyone had been using the term “ma’am,” because no one was sure whether to address her as “Prime Minister” or “First Consul.”

  “The citizens are jumpy enough. That’s all we need right now, a bunch of damn sirens going off,” Darracott complained as she entered the conference room.

  Before they left Boutwell, Rachel Randa had resourcefully produced a clean outfit of clothes for her—and they even fit. She boarded an army helicraft with Randa, Miyazato, and Hinojosa while Sanchez and Banks took a different craft for security purposes. In case of an airborne attack en route, one of them would make it back to the capital. Fortunately, there were no incidents along the way for either of them.

  The flight from Boutwell to Esterkeep took just thirty minutes, but seemed to last much longer. Everyone was still uncertain about the space situation and she could only trust Colonel Hinojosa’s word about what was happening on the ground. “What would Victor do?” repeated over and over in her mind, until she realized he wouldn’t do anything—he was gone. It was her government now, at least until the Directorate met to take it away from her, and she meant to use the time she had wisely.

  During the ride from the aerodrome to the Centroplex, she spotted Union soldiers stationed here and there, as army helicraft hovered above the city. At key street intersections, there were armored vehicles, and in front of certain government buildings, such as the Foreign Ministry, she noticed several units of mech armor. It was a show of force by the army to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind as to who was in control.

  Closer to Esterkeep Center, she started to notice a Marine presence mixed in with the SUA and took that as a positive sign that the army wasn’t trying to seize control for itself. Arriving at the Centroplex, the new First Consul was shown to a private apartment where she could clean up and rest, while the military worked feverishly to clarify the situation. Initially thankful when some of her civilian staff arrived, Darracott felt her life might be endangered yet again as her administrative assistant, Grace Ward, hugged her so hard it hurt.

  A meeting had been scheduled for 19:00 hours, before which Darracott had been examined by several doctors, her broken finger mended, and given a meal she didn’t touch. As she entered the meeting room, the six men waiting for her stood. There were Leonardo Sanchez, Nico Stavrianos, Luis Hinojosa, Auric Banks, Jason Tolbert, and a man she’d never met before. He was introduced as Admiral Alexander Carson, Assistant Chief of Space Operations.

  Darracott sat down and th
e others followed suit. “This is intimate. Where’s the usual flock?” she asked, referring to the multitude of aides that always seemed to haunt the edges of the room during these kinds of meetings.

  “Until we know exactly who we can trust, we thought we’d keep it tight knit,” responded Sanchez. “Director Tolbert is going to fill us in. Jason?”

  ‘Wait, please,” said Darracott, an edge in her voice. “General Stavrianos, I want to personally thank you for the army’s assistance today. And General, I hope you don’t think me ungrateful, but there is a question I must have answered before we proceed.” The General braced himself for what he knew was coming. “If you had an indication regarding what was going to happen today, why is Victor Polanco dead?”

  “I don’t think—,” began Leo Sanchez, but the older man held up his hand to interrupt.

  “Admiral, I think the First Consul has a right to have that question answered.” The general moved in his chair, turning squarely toward Darracott.

  “Firstly, we could not actually be sure there was going to be a coup. We had indications, but no solid confirmation. If we had acted openly, such as sending extra protection for the Admiral-in-Chief, it would have tipped off the conspirators and they simply would have gone into hiding and shifted their timetables forward to an unknown date.

  “I made the judgment that Admiral Polanco had sufficient protection and that we could shut down the conspiracy before they struck at him. I was wrong on both counts. Because I was wrong, Admiral Polanco and others have died. If I could go back and do it differently, I would. I’m sorry. If it helps in any way, I offer my resignation as of this moment.”

  Darracott examined his face. “No, General, don’t be sorry. None of this was your fault. The people behind the coup are the ones responsible for killing Victor and all the others. I’m just trying to understand everything, that’s all. As I said, it was a question I had to ask.”

  The general nodded. She was certain of his sincerity and of one other thing: knowing Stavrianos, he would be second guessing himself for the rest of his life.

  “As for your resignation,” continued Darracott, “it is not accepted. I need you, just like Victor needed you twenty months ago.” Darracott turned to the leader of the OMI. “All right, where are we, Director? What do we know?”

  The Director took a sip of water and then began. “Brin Choi was a houseguest of Channa Maxon last evening. This morning, she attempted to assassinate Admiral Maxon and her security team killed every member of the Maxon security squad.”

  “Attempted? You mean Maxon’s still alive?”

  “Yes, First Consul. She’d given her staff the day off, but her housekeeper decided to stop by to see if the Admiral needed anything. The poor woman found all the bodies, and then found Maxon, barely alive in her bedroom.”

  Stavrianos spoke up. “Maxon’s in a Boutwell hospital in guarded condition. If the housekeeper hadn’t showed up when she did, Channa would have bled to death.”

  “Thank the Gods. She was always very special to Victor,” reflected Darracott, then her voice frosted, “but so was Brin Choi. What’s the situation with First Fleet?”

  “Still in our control—most of it,” Sanchez answered. “Choi wasn’t able to convince Maxon’s senior officers that her orders to take command were genuine. A firefight broke out on the Galatea between personnel working with Choi and those who stayed loyal. Our people finally prevailed, but…”

  “…not before there were dead on both sides,” Tolbert continued. “They also tried and failed to take Presidio Station, but only after a sustained battle.”

  “You said most of First Fleet, Admiral Sanchez. Please tell me we don’t have a civil war on our hands.”

  “We don’t. Choi was able to escape the Galatea and get to one of the few ships loyal to her. The destroyers Ivar and Astaroth and the frigate Tanis jumped out of the Artemis system after everything fell apart. We’re almost certain she’s on one of those ships. Central Command has issued a fleet-wide alert and we’re hunting for them.”

  “First Consul, there were attempts to seize four other ships in First Fleet,” Admiral Carson spoke up, “but in each case, the mutineers failed and were arrested. As for the ships that did escape, I doubt we’ll get them. They’re almost certainly headed for Commonwealth space.”

  “Why do you say that? Why wouldn’t they go to Pontian or Galbanese territory?”

  “Because only the Gerrhans would dare shelter them,” answered Carson.

  Darracott grimaced. “Is there any evidence to suggest Gerrhan involvement in all of this?”

  “None at all,” replied Carson. “Although, I would advise raising the fleet readiness level to Condition Yellow just in case.”

  Sanchez looked uncomfortable. “That might upset our Gerrhan friends.”

  “They’re not my friends,” growled Darracott. “Raise fleet status to Condition Yellow for forty-eight standard hours and then stand back down if nothing happens. I want the Commonwealth to understand that they shouldn’t try to take advantage of the situation. How badly would we be harmed if the Gerrhans got their hands on those three ships?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be ideal,” confessed Sanchez, “but all three ships in question are older vessels. We’ve already changed all of our command codes and there’s still a chance we may find them first.”

  “Is there any indication this has spread outside the Artemis system to space or ground forces elsewhere in the Union?” asked the First Consul.

  The Chief of Space Operations shook his head. “None. Choi left orders for Second Fleet to come to Artemis to assist her, but when the time came, her flag captain chickened out. He turned himself in at Quijano Station.”

  Auric Banks snickered. “Brin’s had some bad luck with her flag captains during the last two years.” Only the space force men seemed to understand his meaning.

  “There is another thing,” said Carson. “When word of Admiral Polanco’s assassination got out, a group of regional lawmakers on Arethusa declared planetary independence from the Union. Admiral Schooler sent down Marines to arrest them and he has most of the leaders in custody. Should we turn them over to the planetary governor?”

  She thought for a moment. “No, have Schooler send them to Esterkeep. We’ll take custody of them here.”

  Banks stirred. “Ma’am, there’s not really any precedent for bringing political dissidents directly to the capital.”

  “There is now. I’m not going to let anyone use this incident as an excuse to fragment our starhold,” Darracott declared, closing her eyes for a moment. “Thank goodness for Commodore Epstein,” she said, then looked toward Tolbert and Carson. “I’m sure you’ve been told that he was the one who warned us.”

  Carson revealed what the others didn’t want to. “Unfortunately, Commodore Epstein was seriously wounded by one of the traitors shortly after he made that call. He died just a little over an hour ago.”

  Darracott placed her right hand over her temple. “I’m sure we’d all be dead if he hadn’t raised the alarm.”

  “In a way, it was Emil Van Ness who saved you,” observed Tolbert.

  “Who’s Emil Van Ness?” Darracott asked.

  “He was the football player that was injured just before halftime. The plan was for the four phony SSB guards to burst into your suite during halftime and kill everyone. When the injury happened on the field, it pushed halftime back.”

  “Remember how long the player was down?” added Auric Banks. “His injury messed up the timing. If Emil Van Ness hadn’t broken his leg, we would have all been dead before Commodore Epstein made his call.”

  Darracott turned back to Tolbert. “You said phony guards. So they weren’t SSB?”

  “No, but they were hired by Minister Siebert. He provided them with their uniforms and forged identification. The coup was managed planetside by Siebert and some of the other top people at the Home Ministry. They mostly contracted outsiders to help though, because they felt if they le
t too many people in on it at the Ministry, someone would expose them.”

  Darracott shook her head as though to wake up from a bad dream. “How do you know all of this, Director?”

  “We believe we have all of the Home Ministry conspirators in custody, except for Siebert. Once they were arrested, we couldn’t keep up with the confessions. Everyone claims Siebert was the ringleader.”

  “He may have been on the ground, but my guess is that Choi approached Siebert with the plan,” speculated Carson.

  “How the hell did Choi expect to win the loyalty of the fleet after it came out that she’d murdered Maxon?” wondered Sanchez aloud.

  “She was probably going to blame that on the Home Ministry,” guessed Carson, “and then execute the lot of them. That would have silenced Siebert and his gang and left her in complete control. Mind you, that’s just speculation.”

  “Probably good speculation,” said Darracott, “I want them both. Choi may be harder to get right now, but I want that bastard Stone Siebert in a cell by tomorrow morning. Was the director of the SSB one of the conspirators?”

  Hinojosa spoke up. “Yes, ma’am, but she committed suicide before we could take her into custody.”

  Darracott considered for a moment. “Captain Banks, I’m appointing you as temporary director of the SSB. Go in there and vet everyone, then give me a recommendation on who should be the next director.”

  Banks looked dumbfounded. “Ma’am, I don’t think the civilian side of the government is going to appreciate a space force officer marching into the Home Ministry to commandeer the SSB.”

  “Captain Banks, right now I don’t give a rat’s ass what the bureaucrats think.”

  “But I’m the First Consul’s—your Chief of Staff.”

  “As you have said yourself, Captain, my term of office will be brief. Right now, I need you to take care of the SSB situation more than I need a Chief of Staff. If you can’t do it, or won’t do it, I’ll assign someone else. What will it be, Captain Banks?”