“No. Formally, it’s Corint Till,” said Yestesh, saying Till Corint’s name in the Abh order. “But there’s a chance he is acting as a puppet.”
Till? A puppet? Yeah, right, thought Jint. But ten whole years had passed since his and Till’s tragic parting. People change, and he didn’t delude himself that he’d known every inch of the man when they were together. Jint had been a child, and he’d only ever known “home-life Till.”
“I hope that’s what’s going on,” said Lafier. “If the landworld says they want to be left alone, it will be put off for later. But if they’re being forced to say that by another nation’s military, the Empire can’t let that stand.”
“It’d be convenient for us, that’s for sure,” he said. His voice had come out so tight it startled even him.
Lafier looked suspicious. “Are you angry?”
“I’m just worried.” Jint faced Yestesh: “They may be a PSSU land division, but even they must know shooting a ship in orbit from the surface is futile. It wouldn’t even serve as a warning.”
“Yes. That’s why we regard the possibility as low. Civilized people with common sense with regards to how the galaxy functions wouldn’t do this. The attack was the sort of folly a land people long isolated from the rest of humanity might perpetrate, however.”
Ouch. They’ve forgotten I’m a member of that long-isolated land people, the two of them, thought Jint.
“Now then, here is where the laser cannon was fired,” said Yestesh, as a point on the map flashed.
“Beeg Charl.” Jint smiled bittersweetly, and explained to the investigator what that peculiar phrase meant. “It’s the name of the laser cannon. Well, one of the four laser cannons — the ‘Forr Da Antohbeeta,’ in Martinese. There’s also Beeg Al, Beeg Bill, and Beeg Dew. We constructed them before our world had even learned of planar space navigation. I thought they’d have dismantled them ages ago, but I guess they’re still around.”
“It must be because there was no hurry to do so. They can’t have felt them a threat.”
Once again, Jint’s patriotic heart took a stinging hit, but he couldn’t let that show. “Could you recreate this ship’s trajectory on the map?”
“Certainly.”
A curved line appeared on the map, representing the Baucbiruch’s course. Its altitude was also displayed.
“If that’s the course the ship took, then three of the Forr Da Antohbeeta would’ve been able to attack simultaneously,” said Jint. “But they didn’t, which I think means they weren’t aiming to completely destroy the ship.”
“So it was a warning after all?”
“If that’s what the landworld administration is thinking, then this is an indication that they either can’t or don’t want to turn back.”
“I see,” said Yestesh, nodding. “But isn’t that what you would call a warning?”
“Not necessarily,” said Jint, shaking his head. “They weren’t expressing their will to the Abh. They were expressing their will to themselves.”
“But what makes you say that? And I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying to begin with. Why would they need to express their will to themselves? I know that I, at the very least, don’t need to.”
“The head of the government... that is to say, Martinh’s Landworld Citizen Representative was never an autocratic ruler, and I’m betting that hasn’t changed since I lived there. There may have been strong opposition to maintaining independence. I think it’s pretty safe to assume there was, actually. So firing Beeg Charl was probably effective in silencing the opposition. It wasn’t meant to sway us — it was meant to sway other planetary factions.”
“I just can’t understand it,” said Yestesh, utterly perplexed. “Isn’t an act on the level of firing at a foreign vessel something that should be carried out only after securing a consensus?”
“That would have been the wiser way to do things,” said Jint, smiling. “But that’s the way it’s done on my home planet. Creating fait accompli, that is.”
Lafier looked bereft of words.
“Well, if Your Excellency says so, then let’s take it as true,” he said, not looking particularly impressed. “Setting that aside, let’s focus on the future. If the landworld administration has made up their minds — which, to be quite honest, it didn’t even occur to me that they might not have — but either way, what do we do from here?”
“I think our first step is to tell them this isn’t the fait accompli they want it to be.”
“It’s true that this ship’s scars are so slight as to not warrant retribution.”
“Exactly. And I don’t think Martinh has the firepower to dish out damage serious enough to ever warrant any retribution.” Jint kept the word unfortunately to himself. “Not that I know anything about the Ma’tye 12th Division’s firepower, obviously.”
“If they’re furnished with specialized equipment, then it’s a different story, but as it stands, I don’t believe they have the ability to shoot ships out of orbit, either.”
“In that case, I’ll go talk to them. But I want to go with the minimum possible number of people. The antimatter fuel factory construction team’s scheduled to arrive shortly, but I’ll put this here.”
“Of course.”
“But I can come with you, can’t I?” asked Lafier.
“Sure. ’Cause this time, I’m probably not leaving the ship anyway.”
“I wouldn’t let you. Nothing good ever happens when you touch down on a landworld.”
“I came back safe and sound from my visit to Delktu, didn’t I?”
“You spent all of your time there tormenting your own liver,” she pointed out.
After a while, Yestesh finished his briefing and exited the conference room. Another job was apparently waiting for him. Jint remained there, gazing at the map of Martin. Would the day he could once again walk the land of fantastical lifeforms ever come?
“Jint,” Lafier called from behind.
“What?”
“I must apologize to you.”
“You mean for saying it’d be better for us if the planet was under military occupation?” he said, looking back at her.
“Right,” Lafier nodded. “It was thoughtless of me. I know this landworld was your home, but sometimes I forget.”
“I do, too,” Jint smiled. “But it is my home, nonetheless. I don’t want a ground war to happen here. Of course, a ground war would be the pits anywhere else, too.”
Space battles were different. The vast majority of people in ship-on-ship combat were soldiers, and those that weren’t were there to serve. Sure, levels of enthusiasm varied between them, and some may have entered the army thinking there would never actually be a war, but at the end of the day, space battles were waged between those who resolved to fight. Ground battles, however, inevitably involved innocent civilians.
“Yes, naturally. I don’t like ground wars, either. Just the thought of enemies and allies fighting while breathing the same air makes me shudder.”
Jint had a feeling Lafier disliked ground wars for very different reasons, but he decided not to pursue it.
“But for argument’s sake, what would you do if they were under an occupation?” she asked.
“That’s a tough nut to crack,” he replied. “If they’re still under occupation, we can’t exactly choose to leave them be. But then that’d lead to a ground war on my home planet.”
“What’s your ultimate goal for your star fief?”
“That’s easy. I wanna just forget about the wider galaxy and live a peaceful life on my landworld. So, if we don’t attack the space-bound facilities of the Empire, I don’t need to worry myself about trading, either.”
“What a waste. By not engaging in commerce, you’re throwing away ninety percent of your potential wealth.”
“And be stinking rich with just ten percent. Besides, having loads of money doesn’t mean a thing if you’ve got no way to spend it.” Jint snapped his fingers, having rem
embered something. “Oh yeah, I’ve gotta repay my debt to the House of Clybh. But there’s no rush, right?”
“Not in my eyes,” said Lafier. “The best client for a money lender is one who pays their interest and borrows for a long time.”
“Good.” Jint’s eyes returned to the map. “Why’s planar space navigation gotta exist, anyway? If the speed of light were the absolute limit, then I and the people of my planet wouldn’t have had to suffer so.”
Lafier chuckled. “My father often makes the same sort of remarks.”
“His Highness the King of Clybh? But why? If it weren’t for planar space navigation, the Empire couldn’t keep going.”
“If there were no planar space navigation, then we wouldn’t have needed to build the Empire. He claims we would still be roaming the galaxy like our ancestors.”
“Is that a more blissful existence?”
“My father seems to find the idea charming enough. It’s like he was born too late.”
“Born too late, huh? I think the same could be said for the people of my home. But while Fïac Lartr Clybr is pining for the distant past, the Martinese are pining for an age all of the adults experienced directly. That’s why they may be super fixated on it.”
“And you mean to turn back the clock for them?”
“That’s not in the cards. There’s no way we could ever return to total isolation. But we can give them that illusion. If we don’t trade with other systems, the people won’t ever lay eyes on products from other territory-nations, and if we block information, then they can live without the fear that comes with the active awareness of being a tiny corner of a vast interstellar power.”
“Would that bring your landworld citizens true happiness? Let me assure you my father’s nostalgia for a bygone age is a quirk of his own. I, for one, don’t believe for a second that the Space Roving Age was better, and most Abhs don’t, either.”
“It’s not at all a rare opinion among my landworld citizens, though.”
“But if they wish to wrap themselves in a happy fiction, then everyone must constantly make sure reality never pokes a hole in the veil.”
“I know. There must be loads who prefer reality — especially the generation born after mine. And for their sakes, I’ll give them the opportunity to face it. That’s the best idea I could think up, anyway. The best, for my fellow citizens.”
“I see you’ve given it a lot of thought,” she said admiringly.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but could you do me a favor and acknowledge I’ve got enough grey matter to squirt out a thought or two once in a while?” he sighed, poking at his head.
“Your gray matter occasionally produces some erratic ideas.”
“Really?”
“Yep. That’s why I sometimes have to wonder whether you’re thinking anything at all.”
“Well, you are observant. There are those times,” he admitted. “But this is my home. Trust me, I’ve thought about it. A whole lot, actually. I feel I’ve got a life mission here.”
“And not in the Star Forces?”
“If I stay in the Star Forces, I’d just be one of tens of thousands of quartermaster starpilots. I’ve done a decent job of it, but there’s any number who can easily replace me. But as of now, there’s only one lord who knows the ins and outs of Martinh.”
“You have a point. I can’t speak for other worlds, but for this one, you are qualified in a way that’s hard to come by for lieges the galaxy over. I’m sure everyone will look on your work with gratitude.”
“I doubt it,” said Jint, his heart cold. “My father and I must be in the textbooks as traitors. He, the man who sold out the planet he was born and raised on to the Empire to become a noble, and his son, the brazen-faced child who’d wield the scepter after him. I don’t know which of us is more hated, but at the very least I know I’m Villain No. 2 in this story.”
“You’re such a pessimist.”
“No way. I’m looking forward to it. I think I might live to see my name used in a spicy proverb.”
“All right then.” Lafier stared him in the face.
“What?” he said, unsettled.
“It’s nothing much. I was just thinking I’m glad I took leave.”
Planar space navigation ain’t all bad, he thought. Without it, I would never have met Lafier.
Jint’s wristgear beeped. He peered at the lines of text that floated on screen. It was a short message from the captain, bidding him to come to the bridge at once. Which was all well and good, but there was a phrase in the message he’d never heard before. “Lafier? Do you know what a ‘trample-blitz squadron’ is?”
Chapter 6: The Saibec Cimecotr (Military Confidentiality Barrier)
From the bridge of the Baucbiruch, Jint gazed on as warship after unfamiliar warship emerged from the Vorlash Portal.
“Could you get me in touch with the Commandant right away?” he asked the Ship Commander of the Baucbiruch, Logdonh.
“Let’s try.” Logdonh nodded at the Communications Officer.
“Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 is currently in communication with the Vorlash Count’s Manor using all lines except for the emergency line,” reported the officer. “Shall we use the emergency line?”
Logdonh shot Jint a questioning look. Jint mulled it over. He had something to grill Commandant Atosryua about, and preferably sooner rather than later. But did it warrant using the emergency line?
The reason Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 was using up the regular lines was to make arrangements for supplies. They must be in quite the hurry to resupply. And that wasn’t all — exchanging such huge amounts of information meant that not only were they rushing, but also that they were going to receive massive shipments of supplies. Resupplying at normal volumes already took time. Jint was a quartermaster starpilot, so he knew that better than most.
In any case, he’d have plenty of chances to talk up until the time Squadron 1 finished resupplying and left the territory-nation.
“Let’s wait,” said Jint. “As it stands, the Commandant must be busy. Just let her know that I’d like to speak with her, through the Vorlash Count’s Manor.”
“Then shall we wait for a message from the other end to respond to?” asked Logdonh.
“No. I just expect the Commandant to be curious enough to reach out to us in between calls with the Count’s Manor.”
Come to think of it, he thought, there are two counts’ manors in this territory-nation now: the one that’s supposed to be here, the Vorlash Count’s Manor, and also the Hyde Count’s Manor.
“Dropping them a line first is the thing to do. As soon as a line becomes free, try calling the Commandant. I’ll be waiting in the conference room.”
“Do you want to make the call confidential?” asked the captain — the final question.
Jint nodded. “Please do. Can’t hurt to play it safe.”
And so he waited for Atosryua in the conference room, together with Lafier and Yestesh. The air was heavy and awkward, as none of them were conversing. At last, Jint’s wristgear rang.
“The line has been put through. Are you free?” came Ship Commander Logdonh’s voice.
“Of course.” Jint got to his feet.
Lafier and Yestesh also got up and straightened their postures. At once, a hologram of Atosryua appeared.
“I apologize,” said Atosryua. “I should have prioritized paying you a call, but it’s all been so hectic I neglected to do so.”
“We’re just pleased to see you in good health, Lymh Faibdacr,” said Lafier, calling her by her noble rank.
“I thank you kindly, Your Highness. It’s lovely to see you in good health as well.”
“It’s been too long, Commandant Atosryua,” said Jint, calling her by her military title and bowing before the hologram.
“It hasn’t been so long,” she said, shrugging slightly and staring at them in turn. “I did expect to meet you again someday, but I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.”
&n
bsp; “Me, neither,” said Lafier. “What a huge coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” Atosryua suddenly laughed. “Well, I suppose you can certainly think of it that way, Your Highness.”
“What other way is there to think about it?”
“I can’t say. There’s no punching bag here for me.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jint, but all she returned was a smile, so he dropped the subject. “Congratulations on your promotion.”
“Thank you,” smiled Atosryua. “It’s such a pleasure to see my former subordinates are doing well out there, and that’s all the more true with you two. I’m reminded of the dinner we enjoyed together; it almost feels like I’m paying a social call to a couple of friends. Like the war is over. The idea we’d cross paths so soon after never even crossed my mind. By the way, who is your companion?”
Yestesh introduced himself.
“A pleasure,” said Atosryua. “Now then, on to business. I have an idea what you’ve called me for, but allow me to ask.”
“First, a question,” said Jint, keeping it brief. He knew she was busy. “Entry to the Countdom of Hyde has been cut off. Could you tell us why?”
Jint had actually been happy to hear this “Trample-Blitz Squadron 1” was going to resupply at the Vorlash Countdom before setting out for Hyde. Jint had been planning to revisit his home aboard the Baucbiruch, but only because he’d had no other choice. Martinh likely lacked the firepower necessary to take down the Baucbiruch, but he couldn’t shake his anxiety completely. But now he’d been told Squadron 1, a corps comprised of bleeding-edge ships, would be stopping by as well. The Baucbiruch had been a first-class patrol ship before the lion’s share of its armor and armaments had been removed, but he felt much safer on a state-of-the-art warship, and for good reason. The safer the ship, the better. In fact, if at all possible, he’d have liked the “raid ships” to accompany the Baucbiruch so he could use one when communicating with the landworld. Alas, the conveyance ship that had brought them news of the coming of Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 also notified them that entry into the Hyde Countdom was forbidden for the time being. Those orders came from Military Command Headquarters, lending them the same weight as an edict from the Empress herself. Even Jint, as Lord of the Countdom, couldn’t overrule it. To make matters worse, they had been given neither a reason nor a timeframe. And needless to say, knowing when they could enter was crucial, as they had schedules to draft and plans to implement. If they were barred from entry for a sufficiently long period, then they had no choice but to board one of the ships of Squadron 1.
Dinner With Family Page 13