Exodus: Empires at War: Book 06 - The Day of Battle

by Doug Dandridge

  And who is to say that the humans will be any better, signed the female.

  The Spymaster thought back to the resident aliens of the human Empire that he had seen interrogated. All seemed very loyal to the Empire they served. None were slaves. They even had representation in the government of the Empire. The humans represented freedom, and the free intercourse of sentient beings, while the Ca’cadasans were a dead end for any species but their own.

  What about those the Masters fight on the other front? signed the female, looking at the holo that showed the Ca’cadasans at war on both ends of their Empire.

  We are not there, he signed back. We are here, so here is where we work. If some other species makes progress with the enemy on that front, good. But we will see what we can accomplish with these humans.

  And if they still lose to the Masters?

  Then it is a good thing that we play both sides. We cannot lose, as long as we play this right.

  Chapter Seven

  JEWEL, SEPTEMBER 12TH, 1001.

  Samantha Ogden Lee, Regent of the Empire, looked around the table at the gathered executives of the news services. They were all there, responding to the Imperial Summons. The directors of Galactic News Network, Imperial News Group, Jewel Central News, and the relative newcomer of the bunch, Matsuka News Corp. All had asked that they be allowed to bring staff to the meeting, to record what was said. Of course that request had been denied. The whole purpose of this meeting was frankly outside the law. But the Regent had seen no other option.

  “Well, your highness,” said Oliver Maxwell of GNN. “We’re here. Now, would you be good enough to tell us why you called us.”

  “Maxwell has a recording device on his person,” came the voice of a young woman, one of the Secret Service detail that was monitoring the meeting. “We’re deactivating it, now.”

  “Mr. Maxwell,” said Samantha, giving the man her best cold blue eyed glare. “You were told not to bring any recording devices to this meeting.”

  “It’s only my personal communications device,” said the man with a smile, reaching into his jacket, then frowning as he found himself looking at a dead screen.

  “You could have just relied on your implant while you were here,” said Samantha, shaking her head. “But, of course, I should have expected noncompliance from a man like yourself.”

  “Our implants don’t seem to be working in this place,” said Maxwell with a scowl.

  “Still, you were told to bring no external devices, and yet you did.”

  “We are free citizens,” said Mitsu Matsuka with a petulant stare. “We do not have to comply with your directives.”

  “Need I remind you, Madame,” said Samantha, shifting her glare to the woman. “You are currently on Imperial Property, and therefore subject to all rules and regulations governing said property. And I am hereby notifying you that I am invoking the Official Secrets Act for this meeting.”

  “This is outrageous,” growled Nathan M’tumbo of Jewel Central News, the only local organization in the crowd, which, by dint of being housed on the Capital planet, reached many more off planet outlets than any other small organization. “We all agreed to come and hear what you had to say, and you preface it with threats.”

  “Not threats. Just making sure everyone here understands their obligations. We will be discussing matters of national security, and any unauthorized dissemination of the information we discuss will lead to severe consequences. Is that understood?”

  There was head nodding around the room, and Samantha shook her head in return. “I need for all of you to verbally acknowledge what I have told you.”

  “Then yes, dammit,” said Maxwell. “I agree.”

  The others acknowledged in turn, and Samantha smiled.

  “So, if it isn’t too much to ask, why did you call us here?” asked Jessica Stuart of Imperial News Network, the second largest of the services.

  For answer Samantha activated the holo, which showed the latest of the reports from the front that was circulating among all the news services. Shots of a devastated planet, what had once been a living world with a thriving colony. Now lava flowed where once had meandered broad rivers. Volcanoes erupted in the distance, adding their clouds to the dust that already filled the atmosphere. There was no life on the planet, not even a microbe. Or at least there hadn’t been, until the news crew had arrived, floating above the surface in their shuttle.

  “As you can see, the devastation was complete,” said the voice of the onsite reporter, her blond good looks visible on a side screen. “The ancient enemy struck without mercy, killing everything on the planet. Every man, woman and child. Every pet and farm animal. Every bird and insect, down to bacteria.”

  The image shifted to a large field of smoldering earth, the foundations of large buildings the only sign that something had once existed here.

  “The Ca’cadasans hit this world with missiles, coming in at relativistic speeds, punching through the crust. Releasing seismic shocks that toppled modern buildings, before the blast waves scoured the rubble from the face of the planet. Is any system safe from an enemy that is willing to kill entire ecosystems? Where will they strike next? And how long do any of us have?”

  “That was the lead news story last night on all of your networks,” said Samantha. “Retransmitted through the wormhole links to those planets on the system, and through hyperlink to the other systems.”

  “That was one hell of a piece of reporting,” said Maxwell with a smile. “Heidi is one of my best.”

  “So the news went out to every planet on the wormhole system,” said Stuart. “That’s old news then.”

  “Well, it went out to all the cast systems in the Supersystem, and maybe a dozen of the core systems. Otherwise, we stopped it from going any further.”

  “That’s outrageous,” cried Maxwell, slamming his hand on the table, then looking around nervously as he remembered where he was. He looked cowed or a moment, then glared back at the Regent. “That is interfering with freedom of the press. You are violating the constitution of the Empire.”

  “Let me make this perfectly clear, ladies and gentlemen,” said Samantha, looking around the table. “We are in the middle of a war for survival. If we lose this war, we lose the Empire, and all of your freedoms with it. And, as your report shows so well, these creatures want to end us.”

  “Then the people need to know that,” said M’tumbo. “How can you sit there and tell us that the truth cannot be told.”

  “We are treading a fine line here,” said Samantha, looking down at the table. “I will let you know right off that I am a Constitutionalist. I believe in the freedom of the individual. And your Emperor feels the same way.”

  “Then enforce the principles you believe in,” said Matsuka with a pleading look. “Don’t censor the news.”

  “As I said, we are treading a fine line,” said Samantha. “I agree, the people need to be kept informed. However, we also need to make sure that we do not crush the hopes of people.”

  “So, what do you suggest?” asked Maxwell, who had seemed to take the leadership position for the group.

  “That you temper your stories. Oh, I don’t mean totally cover the truth. But try to put a more positive spin on it. And report some positive stories. Let the people know that we are winning some victories. Give them some hope.”

  “And if we refuse to cooperate?” asked Maxwell.

  “The Emperor is hesitant to enact any level of martial law,” said Samantha, pointing a finger at the news mogul. “He would rather depend on the cooperation of loyal citizens such as yourselves. But make no mistake. If you decide to ignore the guidelines we are going to suggest, we will shut you down, and nationalize your networks.”

  “That is outrageous, your Highness,” said Stuart.

  “Let me make this clear, one more time,” said Samantha, leaning forward. “We are in a war of survival. If we don’t win this war, it’s over. We might get some people away to start over, but
this Empire we have built will be history. And the Emperor is not about to let that happen.”

  “Is there anything you are willing to give us in return?” asked Maxwell, steepling his fingers and looking over them.

  “Increased access to information. Embedding with units, as long as we get first look at any reports your reporters send out. Access to our interrogations of Caca prisoners.” All of the newsies leaned forward at that last one, and Samantha smiled. “Yes, we have them, in maximum security, on Purgatory, and on the Donut.”

  “That sounds, more than fair,” said Maxwell, looking at the other directors and getting nods.

  “I have just one question to ask, your Highness,” said Stuart, eyes narrowing. “Off the record.”

  “If I have an answer,” said Samantha, nodding.

  “Are we going to win this war? No bullshit pep talk. Do we have a chance?”

  “I think so,” said Samantha, looking the woman in the eyes. “The Emperor thinks so. It will be a fight. But let me make one thing clear. The Ca’cadasans are very strong. They are our superiors in technology, but that is changing. They are at the end of a very long logistics line, while we are fighting in our home space. They are not superhuman. In fact,” she thought for a moment before looking back up, “there’s a young man at the Officer’s Candidate Academy on New Terra that I think you need to talk to. He could fill you in on some of the vulnerabilities of the Cacas, and how determined men and women can successfully fight them. Now, I’m due to be in another meeting. So remember. Work with us on this one, and we’ll make sure you’ll get the news that’s important for the people to get.”

  “And we’ll cover up all the bad stuff,” said M’tumbo, looking like he was spitting the words out.

  “Not at all,” said Samantha, wondering if that man was going to be a problem. “We still want the people to know what’s going on. But without such a doomsday spin on it.”

  “And what about major victories?” asked M’tumbo. “Do you have any of those online?”

  “We’re working on that,” said Samantha. “I could give you the details, but then I would have to throw you in a cell on Purgatory until the campaign was over.”

  “I can wait,” said M’tumbo with a frown.

  “I thought you would say that, Mr. M’tumbo. Now, my aides will meet with you all to go over the details of the embedding.”

  Samantha jumped from her chair before another question could be asked and walked from the room, heading for her office, and the guest she was expecting there.

  “That went well,” said the Countess Haruko Kawasaki, the Prime Minister, leaning back in the comfortable guest chair that sat in one corner of the office. “I wish I could control the leaders of the three houses that easily.”

  Samantha nodded her head as she went to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a drink. Three Houses of Parliament, all with separate responsibilities, sounds like a good idea in peacetime. But in a war, it sure complicates matters. “I’m glad I only have to deal with them in small measures,” said Samantha, handing a mixed drink to the Countess, which was accepted with gratitude. “I really appreciate your running interference between those people and myself. Most of them give me a headache.”

  “Oh, Mohamed is reasonable enough, most of the time,” said the small woman after taking a sip of her drink and smacking her lips. “But then again, he is supposed to be reasonable. The other two, on the other hand.”

  Samantha nodded her head. Mohamed Ishner was the head of the Scholars, the house made up of scientists and educators, and responsible for technological development and implementation in the Empire. Most of the Scholars were rationalists by trade and inclination, and would listen to a well-reasoned argument, even if they didn’t agree. The Lords and Commons, on the other hand. Especially the Lords, who had been acting for the most part like spoiled children since before the start of the war.

  “I had hopes that Baron Schmidt might be what we were looking for as the leader of the Lords,” said Samantha, thinking about the dashing noble from New Berlin.

  “He’s trying,” said Haruko. “He really wants to give us what we need. But there are too many of Stoyanovich and Streeter’s cronies in the house to make it easy.”

  “As long as he can keep them from obstructing the Emperor’s plans, I’m happy.”

  “Marconi could be a real problem,” said the Countess after taking a sip from her drink. “He got his position due to his family’s wealth, not because of any political acumen. He’s like a spoiled child when he doesn’t get his way.”

  “I’ve met the man,” said Samantha, nodding her head. “You didn’t hear this, but sometimes I think assassination might be a viable political strategy. But Sean would never agree to it, especially after what happened to his family.”

  “So,” said the Countess, putting her half empty glass on the table beside her chair. “Who are you giving the newsies as sacrificial lamb for their hero cast?”

  “Cornelius, of course.”

  “Oh no. Is that really a good idea. You know how much he hates the limelight.”

  “It’s something he’s going to have to get used to,” said Samantha. “Sean says he’s seen that young man in his dreams. And that he has seen great things in his future. So a little protocol polishing cannot be a bad thing.”

  The Countess laughed, picking up her glass and spilling some on herself. “I’ll let you make one of the most dangerous men in the Empire angry. Just don’t implicate me in the conspiracy.”

  “Oh, Cornelius is a pussy cat,” said Samantha, laughing. She could think of no one, besides the Emperor, she would trust more with her life, or the survival of the Empire. But, he was a bad man to have as an enemy. “We’ll just censor the newscast if he goes wild and kills the crew.”

  * * *

  “Devera. I mean, mom. Come have a look at this. Cornelius is on the trivee.”

  “You know he likes you to call him dad,” said Devera Walborski, walking quickly in from the kitchen with a carving knife in her right hand, brushing her red hair back from her freckled face with the other..

  Rebecca smiled at the sight of her adoptive mom, who insisted on cooking the old fashioned way. She was still having problems with the mom and dad labels, but had to admit that they had welcomed her as if she had been their natural child. Junior, Cornelius’ child by his first, late, wife, was asleep in his room. Devera had been tasked to become a mom to two children, neither of which was her own, and she definitely treated them no differently than if they had come from her own body.

  The most important man in the world to both of them, Cornelius Walborski, was centered in the holo. Above his image was the headline, Two Time Hero, while below was the GNN logo. A smaller image of a stunning blond woman was to the side, the interviewer.

  “I just did what anyone would do in like circumstances,” said Cornelius, looking dashing in his dress uniform with the cadet insignia on his collar.

  “Less than thirty people have been double award winners of the Imperial Medal of Heroism,” said the reporter, while a small sidebar displayed the scrolling images and names of the twenty-eight people who had won two of the awards. Two were marked with a blinking cursor that indicated they were three time award winners. “And you were the only one to win an award both as a civilian and a member of the Imperial military. Don’t you think that says something about you as a special human?”

  “I was just in the right place at the right time,” said Cornelius, an embarrassed look on his face.

  “Twice? That seems like quite the coincidence.”

  The interview faded for the moment as a narrator told the story of Walborski’s heroism on Sestius, along with pictures and some vid clips of the planet. After a couple minutes of that his exploits on Azure were recounted, including his taking out a Ca’cadasan base with a fusion bomb tipped rocket.

  “Besides the missile strike, you have been credited with killing almost forty of the enemy in close combat. Why were you so s
uccessful? What gave you the edge?”

  “I really couldn’t tell you,” said Cornelius, looking down. When he looked back up there was a fierce expression on his face. “What I will tell you is that someone needed to stop them. And I was in the place to do it. So I did. Look. The Cacas are not easy targets. But a well-trained and motivated human is the match for any of them. That’s what people need to remember. I have bested them. So have so many other humans, it is impossible to name them all. We can beat them, if we don’t surrender to our fears.”

  “And there you have it,” said one of the desk anchors in the studio. “This young man proves that the Cacas, as they are called, are not invincible. Men and women like Cornelius Walborski, Imperial Ranger and Officer Candidate, are out there defending the Empire. Humans who refuse to be beaten. We can take comfort in their service.”

  The news segment ended, followed by an advertisement for the Imperial Army, asking young people to sign up to defend the Empire.

  “I thought they had a draft,” said Rebecca, looking over at Devera.

  “They do. But it’s still better to have as many volunteers as possible. And from what I understand, there has been no shortage of them.”

  “I can’t wait to join,” said Rebecca, staring at the next segment up on the holo, this one about a debate in Parliament over the way the war was being conducted. “I can’t wait to get out there and kill those bastards.”

  Devera was at her side in an instant, wrapping her in a hug. “I know you do, dear. I know you do. But try to be a child while you can.”

  “The Cacas took that away from me,” said Rebecca, wiping a tear from her eye. “Now all I want is to be an adult.” With a signal from her link she pulled a still from the interview back up on the holo. “I want to be just like him.”

  “You could pick worse role models,” said Devera, smiling as she looked at the face of her husband, the bravest man she knew. And the most humble. “But even he wants you to be a child while you can. That’s why he brought you to safety.”