Tree of Liberty

by Wayne Basta

  Solyss sighed.

  As the ship’s XO, command fell to Tess when Solyss was away, which had displeased Isaxo from the start. With Kard Ulis off commanding their old ship, the Chimopori, Isaxo had assumed he would be the second in command. Despite that assumption, Isaxo hadn’t complained when Solyss had elected to go with Tess, who had more experience working on larger starships.

  It wasn’t until the Battle of Sulas, where Isaxo’s brother Owrik had died, that Isaxo had started butting heads with Tess. Solyss felt confident that the antagonism between the two was partially motivated by grief. He’d tried to explain that to Tess, but it hadn’t helped. The two just didn’t get along. Until now, their disagreements had been minor—mostly sharp words said in the wardroom.

  Technically, Tess was correct. As the ship’s commander, she needed to approve all flights. But Solyss didn’t feel like playing referee or admonishing either of them at the moment. He decided to just ignore it, saying, “Recall the fighters and then get us clear of the moon.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Tess said, though her lowered eyestalk glance toward Isaxo indicated she was not happy.

  Before she or Isaxo could say any more, Solyss headed for the hangar’s door, leaving them behind. Right now, he had to deal with a criminal in order to save the Union. And the criminal appeared to want to play games with him.

  Solyss left the hangar bay behind and entered the ship’s main corridor. Despite the hangar being quite cramped—it could hold only the cargo shuttle and one other smaller vessel—it was by far the largest room on the Gallant. A heavily modified Alliance corvette, the ship was the smallest full-fledged type of capital ship. The four fighters she carried—the ones Isaxo and Tess had been arguing over—were mounted on external docking ports. Only one at a time could be brought into the hangar when repairs were needed.

  The bulkheads lining the corridor shone with a bright gleam. They were a fairly ordinary metallic grey, but with the heavy polish, this particular alloy looked almost white. Solyss made sure the crew kept the ship looking in pristine condition. Not only had there not been a lot to do during their three-month journey, he also felt it necessary to morale. A clean, well-maintained ship meant a strong, united crew.

  Located in the ship’s aft section, resting above the main engines, the hangar shared B Deck with only a few other locations—mainly maintenance rooms for the weapon systems. Solyss walked the length of the ship to a stairwell and went down to C Deck. From there, he turned and continued walking toward the ship’s bow.

  Officer quarters were located in their own compartment toward the front of the ship. The only thing between them and the emptiness of space was the main sensor array, though that covered three decks. This left the officer section the farthest away from any of the day-to-day activity aboard ship.

  A total of seven rooms were located here: six individual rooms for Isaxo, Tess, the ship’s surgeon, the chief engineer, himself, and Asheerah, who had yielded her quarters to Gamaly, and then a cramped wardroom with its own small galley. While the quarters here were individual rooms, compared to the two barrack rooms for the main crew and the three-person bunks for the senior enlisted personnel, they weren’t spacious. Solyss spent little of his time in his quarters.

  Readying himself for the coming discussion, Solyss lifted his head up in a confident manner and strode into the wardroom. Shaped like an oval, the room had eight padded seats lining the wall. Monitors hung over the seats, capable of displaying ship status reports or entertainment programs. In the center of the room, currently acting as the room’s floor, was the table. It could be lowered to the deck, providing a reasonable amount of walking space, or raised to serve as a table for the eight chairs. When raised, it made getting across the room very difficult.

  Asheerah stood across from the entrance, resting against the door leading to the small galley. Her weapons were holstered, but she exuded menace nonetheless. Her eyes stayed locked onto Kueth like a predator ready to strike, despite him having been thoroughly checked for weapons.

  Gamaly sat on the opposite side of the room from Kueth, chatting amicably with him. From the snippets of conversation Solyss picked up when he entered, they were talking about the colony on the Hollis moon. The conversation stopped and Kueth rose as he entered.

  “Captain Novastar,” Kueth said by way of greeting.

  Solyss nodded his head, acknowledging the man’s understanding of naval tradition. Turning to a small counter beside the door, Solyss picked up a bottle and held it up so Kueth could see. The man nodded his head in agreement, and Solyss poured the two of them a glass of cognac. It was a delicacy from his native Terra and not easy to come by in the colonial sectors.

  Solyss handed the glass to Kueth and then took a seat beside Gamaly. He never even considered offering a glass to the two women. Gamaly was pregnant and Asheerah always stuck her nose up at his “snobby liquors.”

  Sipping his drink slowly, he relished the flavor. He hadn’t indulged himself in a drink but once since leaving Kol on this mission. That one time had been a memorial service for those lost in the Battle of Sulas.

  After giving Kueth a moment to enjoy his drink, Solyss leaned back and gave the man a hard look. The drink had allowed him to release some of the tension he had been feeling earlier, but he still felt annoyed at the situation. He had come out here in a desperate move to save the Union. He wasn’t interested in word games.

  “All right, Mr. Kahl-Amar,” Solyss began, “let’s hear it. And no more games. Give it to me straight.”

  Sitting up straighter, Kueth lowered his glass. “Very well. In exchange for your help in freeing the world of Okaral from Alliance control, and then making the freedom of all worlds in the Trepon sector a condition of any final peace treaty with the Alliance, Mr. Renard will gain control of the Black Market and provide it for the Union’s use for the remainder of the war with the Alliance.”

  Solyss considered this for a moment. Gaining the support of the Trepon sector was his secondary objective in coming on this mission. He had no idea what kind of support the people of the sector had, but he had to guess that at least the people of this world of Okaral had an interest in being free of the Alliance.

  “Before I agree, I’ll need to know what kind of defenses the Alliance has on Okaral,” Solyss replied.

  “And you’ll need to explain where Renard is and why we aren’t speaking to him directly,” Gamaly interjected.

  After casting a nervous glance at Gamaly, Kueth focused his attention on Solyss. “The planet is protected by a small garrison and one ship in orbit, which rotates out every few weeks but is guarded by a frigate. The garrison is mostly based aboard an orbiting space station, with only a small contingent being on the surface at any one time.”

  One frigate and a space station, Solyss considered. Depending on the armament of the station, that might be a winnable fight. Even though corvettes were usually no match for a frigate, the Gallant had received upgrades he felt made her up to the task.

  “You said the ship rotates out every few weeks?” Asheerah asked. “Where do they rotate from?”

  Kueth shrugged. “I don’t know. Food and resources created on Okaral are sent to the orbiting station. From there, I assume they’re sent to another Alliance base, but I have no information on where that is.”

  Rubbing his cheek, Solyss considered that information. They had expected that there would be an unknown Alliance base elsewhere in the sector. The intelligence Kaars Aerinstar had provided to the Union after defecting from the Alliance had indicated that much of the fighting force from Fourth Fleet lay somewhere in Trepon. But it was a big sector, with most colonized worlds being small and scattered.

  He had hoped that the Alliance fleet was scattered as well. The single ship rotating in and out supported that. But the frequency of the rotation might indicate a closer, more concentrated presence.

  Finally, Solyss said, “Without that information, it would be foolish to try to free this world right now. We�
��ll agree to make Trepon’s freedom part of the eventual peace treaty with the Alliance and to come and liberate Okaral as soon as resources become available. Right now, even if we did free them, we couldn’t stay here to ensure they remained that way.”

  Kueth shook his head emphatically. “No. That’s unacceptable. Okaral must be freed before you leave, and you must do everything you can to make sure it remains that way.”

  A feeling of frustration started to work its way through Solyss. From the direction this conversation had gone so far, Kueth didn’t have the authority to negotiate—just issue demands. If this trip turned out to be for nothing, he would have put one of the Union’s few warships out of action for almost six months and for no gain.

  “We seem to keep coming back to this point,” Solyss said, not suppressing the annoyance in his voice this time. “It’s clear these negotiations cannot continue until we meet directly with Josserand.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Kueth said simply.

  “Why the hell not?” Solyss growled.

  There was silence in the room for a moment. He immediately regretted his outburst but decided not to offer an apology.

  After a moment, Kueth leaned back in his seat, his shoulders sagging. “Because Josserand is on Okaral.”

  Solyss let out a dismissive noise. “So what? Just have him come meet with us here. One frigate can’t blockade an entire world.”

  Kueth sighed. “Okaral is a prison planet. The only transports in and out are Alliance military vessels.”

  Solyss blinked in surprise. Before he could come to terms with this news, Gamaly let out a boisterous laugh. The sound reverberated through the room. Taken off guard by the sound, Solyss found his annoyance dissipating.

  “Renard wants us to break him out of prison? Oh, that’s priceless,” Gamaly said, still laughing.

  A grin spread across Solyss’s face, and he let out a chuckle. It was nice to see Gamaly laugh and smile. She had been pretty blue for the entire journey, due, undoubtedly, to missing Gu’od.

  Then a dark thought crossed his mind. He turned to look at Kueth, his gaze angry. “This was all an elaborate ruse, wasn’t it? Josserand just wants us to break him out of prison and is dangling the Black Market as bait. But if he really could gain control of the ship, you would have done it by now in order to free him.”

  Gamaly stopped laughing long enough to add, “That sounds like Renard.”

  “No!” Kueth said, his voice frantic. “That’s not true! We were planning to seize control of the Black Market and use it to free Okaral and the other worlds of Trepon while the Alliance was occupied fighting in Kreogh. We were going to be free again. But then Josserand got captured. He’s the only one who has the codes and contacts we’ll need to take the ship.”

  The emotion evident in Kueth’s voice brought Solyss up short. Whether or not Josserand truly could gain control of the Black Market and would loan it to the Union, Kueth clearly felt strongly about freeing Trepon from the Alliance. He started to wonder if he might need to reassess Kueth.

  “Our people don’t have anything big enough to take on a frigate. All of our fighters are in Kreogh sector and none of them are hyperspace-capable. They were going to be picked up once we seized the Black Market. Then we would have taken Okaral ourselves,” Kueth continued. His tone took on a note of desperation. “Please, my family lives on Okaral. They’re not criminals and were sent there for a trivial offense. So many of the people down there are innocents. Maybe Josserand can’t actually get you the Black Market. But you’re fighting a war against the Alliance in order to stop things like what happened to my family.”

  Asheerah grunted. “What a waste of time. I say we throw this waste out of the airlock and get back before we miss all the fighting.”

  Kueth’s words struck at Solyss’s heart. Despite the deception, he understood what the man must be going through. He’d had hope for his family, even if it had rested with a fiend like Josserand. Now that hope was gone.

  “No,” Solyss said. “We’re going to help if we can. It’s the right thing to do. Plus, if there’s still a chance we can salvage something useful out of this mission, we have to take it.”

  “Thank you,” Kueth said, relaxing and casting grateful looks to the three of them.

  “But know this,” Gamaly said, leaning forward, “if you’re still lying to us, if we’ve wasted our time here, you will regret it.”

  The look in Gamaly’s eyes made Kueth lean back in his seat as far as he could go. It also made Solyss suddenly start to question his assumption that Asheerah was the most dangerous Liw’kel in the room.

  Try as he might, Lahkaba could not remember a time he had been more uncomfortable. Even though his fur did a wonderful job of regulating his internal body temperature, it couldn’t make up for the extremely uncomfortable temperature the Dotran were maintaining. Plus, they had been sitting in this meeting for hours now, and he hadn’t said a word almost the entire time.

  At Zoeko’s suggestion, he and Valinther had allowed her and Lionell to conduct the negotiations. Many times, he had wanted to say something in response to the Dotran foreign minister but had held himself back. Today’s discussions were merely preliminary, anyway. He would have a chance to talk with the others before they needed to make any commitments.

  As the talks droned on, Lahkaba contented himself with studying the Dotran representatives. Sceglis Amib, their foreign minister and chief negotiator, had so far shown himself to be the embodiment of the stereotype of Dotran bronze: arrogant, dismissive of others, short-tempered, and with a superior attitude. His companions had acted similarly, at least to his team and the Kowwok servants. They were perfectly deferential to Sceglis and Zoeko.

  One of the Kowwok servants came in, offering drinks to everyone. After taking a cup, one of the Dotran delegates found a few stray Kowwok hairs stuck to the outside. He shouted at the Kowwok in native Dotran—words Lahkaba couldn’t understand—sending the servant running from the room. He returned a moment later with a clean glass.

  He had always found Zoeko to be fairly arrogant and hard to get along with, and until today, he had never realized how accommodating she usually was. Either as a negotiation tactic, or simply because she was among her own people, Zoeko had risen to new levels of arrogance. Every stubborn stance Sceglis took, she matched. She even treated the Kowwok servants in the same manner the other Dotran did.

  The whole scene was difficult to watch. If Lahkaba hadn’t been in politics as long as he had, he might have taken Zoeko’s change in attitude as genuine, instead of the theater it really was. Still, the longer the discussions dragged on, the worst he felt for sitting there, saying nothing.

  “We may be willing to share some of our naval technology with you in exchange for any new tech or tactics you develop during your battles with the Alliance,” Sceglis said, drawing Lahkaba’s attention back to the discussion.

  “That’s a most generous offer,” Lionell replied hesitantly. Unlike everyone else in the room, the Terran was visibly suffering from the heat. Sweat had soaked his clothes, and it ran down his forehead.

  “Excellent. Then we’re agreed in principle to share military technology,” Sceglis said, his tone flat.

  Something about the exchange tickled the back of Lahkaba’s mind, but he couldn’t tell why. The expansive Dotran military surely had some interesting technology that would be very useful to their fight. The Union had only a few cobbled-together or stolen ships, along with commercially available weapons for their troops.

  “Now, back to the matter of integration into the Confederacy . . .” Sceglis said.

  “You mean treaty between sovereign nations?” Zoeko countered, her tone dark.

  The entire discussion so far had revolved around that core concept. They had come here as an independent government negotiating with another independent government. The Dotran kept trying to bring things back to a discussion about merging the Kreogh sector with the Confederacy.


  So far, Zoeko had dismissed every attempt. This time, Sceglis had thought to try to offer something valuable first. A clever tactic, Lahkaba thought.

  “ . . .’s military command structure, should we come to an agreement,” Sceglis said, switching his angle of attack seamlessly. “Our commanders are far more experienced fighting the Alliance than any of yours. We would insist on overall command.”

  “In naval matters, we may be able to accept that,” Lionell said.

  “But on the surface of any of our worlds, our commanders must have seniority. If any battles occur outside the Kreogh sector, then we would defer to you,” Zoeko added.

  Lahkaba didn’t want to put any troops under Dotran command, but it made sense. The Union’s naval forces were laughable in comparison, and their only commanders with any experience—Maarkean and Davidus—were no longer available. As much as he respected Saracasi and Solyss, neither of them were admiral material.

  Sceglis paused a moment before replying, as if seriously considering the matter. Then he nodded. “I believe our two positions are not very far apart. We should be able to work out an agreement here. Perhaps we should end for the day and return to the matter tomorrow?”

  Resisting the urge to let out a sigh of relief, Lahkaba stood with the others, keeping his expression neutral. Lionell, though obviously trying just as hard, failed to contain his relief at the prospect of getting out of this stifling room. They exchanged pleasantries with Sceglis and his staff, and then their Kowwok guide, Rathalos, led them out of the room.

  Once out of the building and in the ground car that would take them to their housing accommodations, the four of them let out a collective sigh. They cranked the cooling system in the car up to maximum, leaning close to the fans. Even Zoeko appeared to relax at the cool air.

  “While I enjoy a good heat, that room was too warm even for my taste. Mirthod is far from the warmest planet and quite humid. I guess I’ve gotten used to a moister atmosphere and less intense heat. Sceglis used it as a dirty tactic to unsettle us,” Zoeko said in response to Lahkaba’s look.