by Neal Jones
Markovitz nodded.
Ritano laughed and shook his head. "Don't give me that look."
"What look?"
The com panel above the airlock chimed, signaling a perfect seal with the crossway tunnel. Jeff tapped several commands into his console. "You're worse than a girl, you know that? You and Nancy have only been dating for what? A year?"
"Almost." The ensign moved to the console on the opposite side of the aisle from Ritano. "And yes, we've talked about our future. She's moving in with me next week, as a matter of fact."
"Uh-huh. Who initiated that discussion – you or her?"
"I did."
"My point exactly. No self-respecting man would ever ruin a relationship by asking such ridiculous questions as, 'Gee, honey, where is this all going? Are you happy with us and where we are right now?' Especially not when you're only six months in. After at least a year, maybe two, then you can start asking those types of questions."
"So you and Lieutenant Navarr dated for two years before you were married?"
"Yes, but our situation was special. We dated off and on for that time, and we were never exclusive."
"Oh, so you just got married for the hell of it?"
"Pretty much, yeah. And thank the gods that didn't last any longer than it did. We weren't meant for each other."
"Well, Nancy and I are meant for each other, and by this time next year I plan to be on my honeymoon."
"Yeah, good luck with that," Jeff teased.
The airlock opened and passengers from the liner began streaming into the corridor. There were two lanes divided by a steel railing, and a security arch was set up between the two consoles that were manned by Ritano and Markovitz. As each passenger arrived at the checkpoint, he/she/it was required to present their hand – or appropriate appendage – to the security officer who would scan for the ID chip embedded just beneath the skin. The passenger then stepped through the arch, being scanned by the security network as they passed through, and then, if their ID cleared the network, they were allowed to continue to the PTL that would transport them to the first deck of the docking sphere. From there, passengers were allowed to go to all public places available to them on the station.
"Next!" Ritano called. An Orethian female stepped forward. The badge on the readout said 'Tilura Shrane', and Jeff verified the accompanying photo with the person standing in front of him. She returned his smile with a nod and a seductive curl of her lips that made him blush. He cleared his throat. "Please step through the arch." The security scan showed nothing of interest, and he waved her on. "Welcome to Exxar-One."
"Thank you."
He risked a backward glance as she walked to the PTL, and he shook his head, smiling to himself as he turned to scan the ID chip of the next passenger.
"Welcome to Exxar-One, Mr. Rosa." The man was a Ralorian, and, to Ritano's practiced eye, he appeared slightly agitated – or nervous. "Is everything all right, sir?"
"It's just been a long trip, that's all." Rosa walked through the arch, and the readout on Ritano's panel flashed green.
"Enjoy your stay," Jeff said, motioning him onward. "Next!"
It was another hour before all the passengers were finally off the liner and through the checkpoint. Jeff entered the command to shut the airlock, and then shut off the security arch.
"You are such an animal," Markovitz quipped as he shut down his console.
"That Orethian woman?"
"Yeah! Could you have been any more obvious when you turned around to stare at her ass when she walked away?"
"I couldn't help it. I've never had sex with an Orethian, but I've heard they're fucking amazing! Besides, Mike and I aren't exclusive, so he wouldn't mind."
"Something about green skin turns you on?"
"No, it's the ears – that extra ridge of cartilage behind them. I've heard that that's their erogenous zone."
Markovitz made a face, shaking his head. "You're an animal," he repeated.
"You're just jealous," Ritano replied.
( 11 )
Harmod Rosa moved quickly down the corridor to the civilian housing service office on deck one of the docking sphere. There was a short line at the front counter, and he glanced over his shoulder as he reached into his coat pocket for his credit disc. He was fairly certain no one had followed him, but since he wasn't experienced at this sort of thing, he couldn't be absolutely sure. He nervously tapped one finger against his leg as he waited for his turn at the front desk.
"Hello, sir, how may I help you?" the unusually cheerful humanoid behind the counter asked.
"I need quarters for one, please," Rosa replied, laying his disc on the counter.
"For how long?"
"Two weeks." It was all he could afford right now.
"Very well, one moment." The woman checked her terminal screen, entered a few commands, and then nodded. "That'll be five hundred and thirteen standard credits." She scanned his disc and then handed it back to him. "Do you have a compad?"
"No, I'm sorry, I lost mine back home."
"I can issue you one for an extra charge of twenty-five credits."
"Yes, fine, whatever."
She reached beneath the counter and scanned the barcode of the compad before handing it to him. "Your cabin number and key code are already entered in, as well as a map of the station. Is there anything else I can help you with Mr. Rosa?"
"No, thank you." He walked briskly out of the office, glancing furtively at the others in line.
A humanoid male towards the end of the line took notice of Rosa and watched him exit the office from the corner of his eye. He waited for a minute or two and then left his place in line to follow the Ralorian.
Chapter 2
____________________
( 1 )
THE DOMED CEILING OF THE HALL OF STATE echoed with the clamor of the Jha'Drok senators who had assembled for a special session, called by the lord emperor himself. It was late in the afternoon, and tempers were frayed. The ninety-eight representatives of the people were in heated debate about the demand from Erengaar for answers to the current economic woes that were still plaguing the Emperium in the aftermath of the destruction of the assault legion a year earlier. The lord emperor sat upon his dais, listening to the arguments, waiting for the right moment to intercede.
"If we impose new taxes upon the noble houses, it will turn them against us!" Senator K'Ntar thundered. "We have already raised their percentage by ten percent."
"The lower classes have nothing left to give!" L'Non retorted. "They are already at thirty percent!"
"I agree with Nyrix." Senator Ossias leaned forward from his seat at the top of the tier. He pointed at K'Ntar for emphasis. "These are hard times for everyone in the Emperium, rich and poor alike. It is time we started leaning more heavily upon the wealthier houses. They have never given their fair share for the last two centuries."
"And are you willing to give twenty percent bi-annually, R'Mot?" K'Ntar replied, sneering.
"Of course! I will do whatever it takes to return our empire to its former glory! It is time that all of us make hard sacrifices for the greater good."
Senator V'Ruk, who had remained mostly silent throughout the session now stood, and his voice carried across the chamber, cutting through the furor. "My fellow senators, you seem to have forgotten a few crucial facts in this debate."
"Well, then, Saan, please enlighten us," K'Ntar said, his tone only slightly more reverent than when he had spoken to Ossias.
V'Ruk waited for the others to turn to him as well before he continued. "We have been debating this taxation issue for over a year now, and it seems to me that we have overlooked the fourteen alien worlds under our command. Have we explored all sources of revenue from these people? Many of them we have used for slave labor, which has saved us a considerable amount over the past several decades. But now, we are at a crisis, and, as Senator Ossias pointed out, hard sacrifices must be asked of everyone – especially those under our dominion.
Wouldn't you all agree?"
"What are you suggesting, Saan?"
V'Ruk turned to Erengaar. "All of these worlds possess many different natural resources which we have been plundering for the last several decades, but we have been careful to make those resources last. And, admittedly, most of the raw materials that we took went towards the construction of the assault legion. Now, thanks to the Drigald, the destruction of that legion has left us extremely vulnerable – both economically and militarily. If we are to gain back our military strength, we need more ships, as well as more soldiers. And since we need the money to pay for those ships and soldiers, then we must begin searching for new sources of revenue. All of today has spent going around and around the central issue: the Emperium is very close to bankruptcy. Even with the new taxation laws we enacted six months ago, there is still very little new revenue flowing into our central banks."
"Yes, yes," Erengaar interrupted. "Get to your point, senator."
"My apologies, lord emperor. I beg your patience a little longer." V'Ruk pressed a command on the panel on the arm of his seat, and a three dimensional image appeared in the center of the chamber, floating in the air in front of the senate. It was a starmap, with several planets, systems, and sectors highlighted and labeled. "This is our empire as it stands now. We are only slightly smaller than the Chrisarii Alliance, and twice as large as the Khazar Dominion, both of which are located to either side of us. On this border is the Interstellar Federation. That leaves only one direction in which we can expand. Unfortunately, the strength of our military fleet is at sixty percent. We do not have the resources necessary to launch a successful campaign against the two dozen independent star systems beyond that uncontested border." He paused, glancing at the faces of his fellow politicians for their reactions. "We can barely hold on to the worlds already under our dominion. We have no other choice at this time but to strip them completely of all remaining resources, and then return those worlds to their former inhabitants to govern as they see fit."
This drew an immediate reaction from the senate.
"Are you saying we should completely withdraw our military forces from those planets?" Senator Vishal gasped.
"Yes. It would take another year, at most, to strip all the planets of their remaining natural resources. We would then simply hand those worlds back to their natives to do with as they wished."
"Assuming, of course, that those planets would be inhabitable once we completed our mining operations," Senator Tulas spoke up. "If we did as you suggest, we would be giving the Shouk Drigald hundreds of thousands of new recruits."
Several others began to chime in, agreeing with Tulas. Zheth Saerdan, Voice of the Senate, stood and hammered his stone sphere twice. "Order! Order in the chamber!" When the clamor died, he turned to V'Ruk. "Let us hear the rest of Saan's proposal. We have wasted enough time already with pointless argument. He has the floor."
"Thank you, senator," V'Ruk said. "My fellow senators, this action would only be the first phase of a much larger operation. You're right, Farran, in that the Drigald would experience a surge in their army unless we give the people of those worlds a reason not to despise us."
"My gods," Senator Tulas gasped. "You're talking of peace!" He stared at V'Ruk, astonished.
"Yes," V'Ruk replied carefully. "Senators, please listen until I have finished all I have to say. We are in a far too vulnerable position to fight. Our enemies surround us. Inside our borders we have the Shouk Drigald, and, if the Talik'Jhor's latest reports are to be believed, the Drigald's numbers are multiplying every day. From without we are facing the Federation, the Chrisarii, and now the Khazar Dominion." As he spoke, his tone continued to rise in volume and intensity. "This government is on the verge of being overrun by the Drigald, as well as the rebellions of the member worlds we have conquered. As a consequence of the destruction of the assault legion last year, our military strength is nowhere near powerful enough to put down these internal rebellions, not if they decide to act with full force. Our only recourse at this time is to make peace with the Drigald, and that means making peace with our people." V'Ruk paused, considering his next words very carefully. "The Drigald fight us because we have so heavily taxed the poor while giving many breaks to the wealthier houses. They also claim that we are responsible for suppressing the discovery and research into the mysterious plague that is affecting the female population of our empire. The Talik'Jhor, as well, have fueled this conflict with the Drigald with their mass arrests and clandestine interrogations. All of this must be dealt with if we are to end the threat of the Shouk Drigald. If they have no cause to fear us or fight us, then they have no power!"
"Enough," Erengaar interrupted, rising. "Senator V'Ruk, your points are well made." He looked around at the others. "How many of you agree with his assessment? Do not be afraid to speak your minds. This is the reason I called you here today for this special session. We must address these issues now, while we still have some power to do so. Senator V'Ruk has put forth a recommendation. I want to hear your response to it."
Senator Y'Shaya was the first to stand. "I agree with Saan's assessment. He makes some very good points. It is our own fault that we have the Drigald as an enemy. It is the actions of this senate over the last century have driven our people to this rebellion, and now what other recourse do we have?"
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the chamber, though not everyone appeared so conciliatory. Erengaar's gaze settled on a scowling face in one of the upper tiers. "Senator Ossias, you disagree?"
The elderly representative stood, his hands folded in front of him, his dark eyes glittering. "Not entirely, lord. I completely agree with his assertion that the Drigald have become very powerful in the last few years, and that this government has made several crucial errors in the dealings with our own people – most notably the recent tax increases and our inability to curb the rise in unemployment among the commons. All of this is the symptom of a much larger problem."
"And that would be?"
"The people no longer fear you, my lord. They no longer fear the crown. They have lost their respect for the monarchy, and they have simply been given too much freedom to voice their displeasure and unhappiness. I do not believe that peace –" he spat the word in V'Ruk's direction "- is the answer. If anything, the local police and the Talik'Jhor have been far too lax with the common folk. Perhaps it's time to use what military strength we have left to assist the Talik'Jhor. The last two bombings by the Drigald were in large commerce districts here on homeworld, where they know that the Talik'Jhor do not have the manpower to conduct such massive public arrests. However, if our military officers were to lend their support for such arrests, perhaps our people would think twice about setting off bombs so close to their homes and families."
"He's right," Senator Tulas agreed. "The Drigald are attacking civilian marketplaces because they don't believe this government would cross that line and arrest so many of its own citizens; at least not all at once. The Talik'Jhor is only as powerful as you allow them to be, lord emperor. We need to send a stronger statement to the Drigald, and to the rest of our people. The next time they set off a bomb in one of the commerce plazas, we swoop in and arrest every citizen within five kilometers of the blast site. No questions, no warnings, they simply disappear en masse. We can use prisoner transport shuttles, and only four or five squads of infantry would be necessary to round up two or three hundred people."
"Unless the soldiers in question were being forced to round up their own families," Senator Kephas objected.
"No!" Ossias snapped. "Their loyalty is to the crown alone. If they question an order to arrest their own mother or father, son or daughter, then they have no business wearing their uniform. That's my entire point. Somehow, in the last several decades, this government has lost the power that it once had over its own people. A century ago a soldier would never have questioned the order given to him by his commanding officer or his lord emperor."
"An operation of that scale
would require massive redeployment of our troops and warships," L'Non mused. "And if we were not discreet about those movements, that alone might send a message to the masses."
"Are you all forgetting what happened in this chamber a year ago?" V'Ruk protested. "One of our own members of this body was assassinated by the lord emperor." He pointed to the center of the chamber floor. "It seems to me that a demonstration of that magnitude should have caused great fear in the hearts and minds of our people. So why do you think redeploying the troops and using them to police the masses will have any better effect?"
"Because there is a difference between assassinating one politician and rounding up three hundred of your own neighbors in a mass arrest!" Ossias thundered back. "The ordinary citizens do not care if one of us is killed, even if it is for treason! They see us as the enemy!"
"That is your primary mistake, Saan," Senator Tulas added. "It's true that long ago this senate was once elected by the people, but now we have become puppets of the royal houses, and we have lost our connection with the commoners."
"Yes," V'Ruk countered. "I fully understand that, and that is what I want to correct. Somewhere in the last two centuries, this body has become corrupted, and we are now suffering the fruits of that corruption. We must regain the faith of the people, and to do that we must make peace with them by admitting our mistakes and repairing them while we still can!"
"Senators!" Erengaar called, raising his hands once more to restore order. "Thank you for your service here today. I believe this session has lasted much longer than was necessary. Go home to your wives and your children. You have given me much to consider, and we shall convene at this time next week for my decision on these matters."
Saerdan stood, hammering his sphere twice. "All rise!"
The senators stood and bowed as Erengaar left the chamber, his personal aid walking quickly to keep up. He proceeded directly to his private office where he laid aside his ceremonial robe and instructed his aid to bring him dinner. As the boy left, Erengaar poured himself a cup of wine and sat behind his large, obsidian desk, the one that had belonged to his father, and his father before him, and his father before him. Over seventy generations of lord emperors had occupied this office, and the shortest term for any of them had been Lord Emperor D'Gol, who had been ruler for just two years before he was executed by the Imperial Senate for his treason against the crown and state. Erengaar was starting to feel lately as if his turn behind this desk was going to be even shorter than D'Gol's.