The Empire's Corps: Book 06 - To The Shores...

by Christopher Nuttall

  “I don’t think that you will be able to file dispatches until we return home,” she said, shortly. One of the other requirements for the diplomatic summit was that both parties would keep their ships outside the Lakshmibai Star System, at least until there was some level of mutual trust. “However, I must caution you that revealing any sensitive data will have the most unpleasant consequences.”

  “I do understand,” Alves reassured her. “And besides, I doubt that anyone on that world has access to a computer datanet.”

  Jasmine shrugged. The reports on the planet’s exact level of technological development were contradictory, as well as outdated. Some of them had suggested that the world was effectively an agricultural planet, with no modern technology; others had implied that outside traders had shipped in everything from fusion power plants to modern weapons and equipment. There was simply no way to know what they were getting into until they arrived.

  “We will see,” she said, softly. She sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs and crossed her legs. “I will do my best to make time for you, but when I don’t have time to talk I suggest that you stay out of the way. You are welcome to interview soldiers who volunteer to be interviewed; you are not welcome to push them into an interview or film them without their permission. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” Alves said. “I understand perfectly.”

  “Good,” Jasmine said. She stood upright and grinned at him. If he wanted to follow her around all day, she’d see just how long he could keep it up. “Now that we have that clear in our minds, let’s go inspect the troops.”

  Chapter Three

  A rather old view of diplomacy defines it as the art of getting what one wants without a fight (and all the attendant risks.) A rather more cynical view defines it as the art of patriotically lying for one’s country. As we shall see, both views have a great deal of validity.

  -Professor Leo Caesius. Diplomacy: The Lessons of the Past.

  “There isn't enough baggage allowance,” Fiona Caesius grumbled. “Can’t you convince the Colonel to give us some more?”

  “I doubt it,” Leo said, as his wife picked up one of her suitcases and shoved it down the hallway towards the door. “We already have three suitcases and that’s more than enough.”

  “Perhaps for you,” his wife snapped at him. “But I have to look my best at the Ambassador’s Ball.”

  Leo sighed, inwardly. Life on Avalon had been good for Fiona, although she would have preferred to have her teeth pulled out one by one rather than admit it. The woman who had lost enough weight to make him worry about her health when he’d been kicked out of Imperial University was gone, replaced by a healthy woman in her early forties. It was strange to realise, sometimes, that both of their daughters were effectively grown adults ... but then, they’d both taken to Avalon far quicker than their mother. They'd had to grow up quickly when they’d left Earth.

  Fiona, on the other hand, had taken it badly. She’d married a respectable professor, which had given her status in the endless social whirl surrounding the staff and students of Imperial University. But then Leo had started asking the wrong questions and – in his naivety – started talking about his answers in the wrong places. It was astonishing just how quickly a life could be ruined on Earth if one made powerful enemies. If the Marines hadn't taken them under their protection, for reasons that still escaped Leo, he doubted they would have lasted much longer.

  And if half of the rumours are true, he thought grimly, we might have been lucky to leave Earth before it fell.

  But it had still taken Fiona years to adapt to Avalon. She’d tried to build up status with the former Council, only to lose it when the Council was arrested and permanently disbanded. It had shocked her badly and she’d been depressed, only crawling back out of her shell when it became clear that her husband was becoming an important man on Avalon. But Avalon had little room for someone whose sole achievement was marrying well. The whole experience had left his wife terrifyingly brittle.

  “I think you always look beautiful,” he said, truthfully. Fiona did look healthy, even if she had been denied the rejuvenation treatments that would have ensured that she looked younger than her daughters for several decades to come. “And we still don’t know if there is going to be a ball.”

  He’d had mixed feelings about allowing his wife to accompany the delegation, but the invitation had been made and he’d accepted, even though he knew that Colonel Stalker would be unaccompanied. His affair with President Cracker was an open secret, but there was no way that she could leave Avalon. Leo privately wondered why they didn't marry. It wasn't as if anyone thought they were founding a dynasty.

  “Liar,” Fiona said, crossly. She picked up the second suitcase, opened it and tried to stick a few more dresses inside. “I haven’t looked good for years.”

  Leo was spared having to answer by the sound of a horn outside. “I have to go now,” he said, shortly. There was going to be one final meeting before they left Avalon and headed to the meeting with Governor Brown’s representatives. “Can you have the final bag packed before the van arrives?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Fiona said. “You really should have hired a maid.”

  Leo shrugged. They’d had a maid on Earth – a sign of status – but he’d never really liked having a stranger in the family home. Besides, Avalon’s economic boom meant that he would have to pay high wages just to attract a maid – or any other servant, for that matter.

  “It wouldn't look good,” he said, tiredly. It was an old argument, one that he was tired of fighting over and over again. “This isn't Earth. The people here do not look up to those who hire servants to do the chores.”

  With that, he walked out of the house, leaving his wife behind.

  ***

  Edward felt vaguely guilty as Professor Caesius walked into Gaby’s office, even though he hadn't caught him exchanging passionate kisses with his lover. Gaby and he had an agreement, of sorts, that they wouldn't be anything other than colleagues outside their bedrooms, where they were largely unobserved. Even so, the thought of leaving her for longer than a week was distracting as hell. He couldn't help feeling sorry for Joe Buckley, whose wife would also be left behind. There had been no room on the transports for her.

  “Please, be seated,” Gaby said, as Professor Caesius closed the door. “I trust that you have reviewed the briefing notes?”

  “Such as they were,” the Professor said. He’d spent hours in the Imperial Library, trying to pull files on their destination out of the archives. Edward had heard that there had been problems caused by a simple misspelling of the planet’s name. “The Governor hasn't said much about what he wants from us.”

  “He may be trying to feel out our strength,” Edward said. “We don’t know just how strong his bargaining position is.”

  The absence of intelligence made him scowl. Just how powerful was Governor Brown? Did he have the ships and manpower to overwhelm the Commonwealth – or was he desperately worried that the Commonwealth would overwhelm him? Edward knew that traders from Avalon – and the Trade Federation – were probing the Wolfbane Sector, but there were no real answers to their questions. The Governor, according to what little intelligence there was, appeared to be hiding his strength. There was no way to know if that represented weakness or confidence.

  Gaby cleared her throat. “At least we can talk to him,” she said. “He doesn't seem to be another Admiral Singh.”

  Edward’s scowl deepened. A year ago, Admiral Singh had vanished into deep space with a formidable force ... and hadn't been seen since. It bothered him more than he cared to admit; in theory, the Admiral’s fleet should have worn itself out without access to repair yards and stockpiles of spare parts, but she hadn't even tried to steal what she needed. Where was she?

  But Admiral Singh had been focused on her own power to the exclusion of all else. Governor Brown seemed to be very different.

  “For the moment,” he said, grimly. “B
ut what will he do if he believes that he has clear military superiority?”

  The Commonwealth was building up its Navy as fast as it could, but Edward knew that it would be several years – perhaps a decade – before he felt safe from attack. It was simply impossible to cover every inhabited planet within the Commonwealth, which meant that worlds along the frontiers were dangerously exposed. Even a comparable force could cause a great deal of damage if it was turned against the Commonwealth. One of his recurring nightmares was Admiral Singh’s fleet appearing above Avalon and bombarding the world into a lifeless ruin. The battle would be costly – and the Admiral’s fleet might not survive – but rendering the world lifeless would be relatively easy.

  And there was no way to know what had happened to the hundreds of thousands of ships that had made up the Imperial Navy. A relative handful had been accounted for, but the fog of war had descended over the Inner Sectors and the Core Worlds. The ships might be gone, destroyed in civil war, or they might be in the hands of a warlord who intended to reclaim control of the Rim. Who knew just how many ships were in Governor Brown’s hands?

  Gaby made a face. “We won’t discuss our own forces with him,” she said, softly. “Instead, we will focus on establishing a border line and trade agreements.”

  Edward had his doubts. The idea of establishing a border in space was absurd. A starship in Phase Space would remain undetected until it entered a specific star system – assuming, of course, that the star system had the sensor arrays it would need to detect an starship’s arrival just outside the Phase Limit. Given sufficient time, any star system could be entered covertly, without detection. Governor Brown had to know that a border line could be little more than an empty formality at best.

  Trading might get them further. But what did they have that the Governor might want?

  Technology, he thought, sourly. The Commonwealth had made a number of improvements to Imperial-standard technology ... and the researchers had promised that, given a few years, they might be able to completely revolutionise the Commonwealth’s technological base. Edward would believe it when he saw it – he’d heard too many exaggerated claims from designers and technicians over the years – but he had to admit that some of their work showed definite promise. But he didn't want to share anything with Governor Brown, not when his ultimate aims remained unknown. It might end up being pointed back at the Commonwealth.

  “And try to agree on a formal exchange of ambassadors,” Professor Caesius said. “Now that we have diplomats on Madagascar, we can certainly urge the Governor to send diplomats here and accept ours there.”

  Edward nodded. The Empire had never been very diplomatic, certainly not since the Unification Wars had come to a victorious conclusion. If the Empire wanted something, it generally took it first and came up with the excuse later. Now, however, the whole field of diplomacy had to be re-established. If they could open friendly relationships with Wolfbane, they might learn a great deal more about conditions in towards the Core Worlds.

  If nothing else, it would be a relief not to have to worry about another war, he told himself, thoughtfully. We don’t want to fight if we can avoid it.

  “That does lead to another problem,” Gaby said, out loud. “What if he intends to demand our surrender?”

  Edward had considered the possibility, before deciding that he simply didn't know enough to come to any real conclusions. Governor Brown did seem to be going to a great deal of trouble if he intended to merely deliver an ultimatum; besides, it would have been far more impressive if the ultimatum had been delivered by a battlefleet entering the Avalon System. Instead, he seemed intent on keeping the Commonwealth at arm’s length ...

  The analysts had argued backwards and forwards over what it might mean, but they’d finally agreed that the most likely possibility was that the Governor was satisfied with what he had and didn’t want to expand – or allow the Commonwealth to corrupt his people. It was quite possible, Edward knew, that the Commonwealth’s economic boom would set an example for the rest of the former Empire ... and if Governor Brown was in firm control, he might not appreciate his population seeing that there was a better way. But, once again, there was no way to know for sure.

  “We tell him to make some more impressive threats,” Edward said, finally. “And to give us proof that he can actually back them up.”

  Professor Caesius frowned. “The files say that he has a formidable force under his command.”

  “The files say a great many things that are outdated,” Edward countered. “What do they say about Avalon now?”

  The Professor nodded, ruefully. Outside the sector, the files in the Imperial Library would say that Avalon was a minor colony with its own cloudscoop. There would be nothing about the defeat of the Crackers or the birth of the Commonwealth. Edward knew that the Professor wanted to restart the Imperial Library – or establish something new along the same lines – but that would be a very long term project. There was just too much else that needed doing.

  “Hopefully that won’t make the situation worse,” Gaby said. She looked over at Edward. “Is there no intelligence from the Trade Federation that we can use?”

  “They’re having problems penetrating the sector,” Edward reminded her. “Besides, everything we have from them is second-hand at best.”

  Gaby nodded. “The Council has authorised you to serve as negotiators,” she said, producing a datachip. “There's a formal confirmation of just how far you can go on the chip, but if you’re expected to offer much more ...”

  She shrugged. “Delay as much as you can,” she added. “And don’t make any representations about joining the Commonwealth unless you think there’s a definite chance that he will accept.”

  Edward shrugged. The Commonwealth hadn't assimilated any multi-star political entities; even Admiral Singh’s empire had come apart after her defeat. Her former captive worlds had entered the Commonwealth as separate entities. But as they expanded towards the Core Worlds, they would encounter multi-system political entities that had considered themselves one entity before the Empire had come into existence. And assimilating them would create a whole series of new problems for the Commonwealth.

  “We shall see,” he said, softly.

  Gaby gave him an understanding look. She seemed to have aged in the time he’d known her, ever since she’d been elected President of the Commonwealth. The stresses and strains of holding the Commonwealth together were taking their toll, despite the best rejuvenation treatments available on Avalon. Edward was privately relieved that she wasn't legally allowed to serve more than one term in office, although he did worry about what would happen when the time came to transfer power. That would be the first true test of the Commonwealth’s stability.

  “I trust you both – and so does the Council,” she said. “Good luck.”

  The Professor nodded, threw them both an unreadable look and then left the room. Edward felt a moment of sympathy, knowing that Professor Caesius was going back to a wife who didn't really deserve him. It was beyond his understanding why the Professor stayed with the woman, unless there was genuine love there. But who would fall in love with a woman who could be haughtily aristocratic one moment and a nervous wreck the second?

  She’s been broken, Edward thought, grimly. Not everyone could meet shifts in fortune with the internal fortitude the Slaughterhouse sought to install in its graduates. At some point, further defiance and struggle just seemed useless and people gave up. Fiona Caesius had gone from being a social queen to a desperate woman in poverty so quickly that she’d had no time to adapt. And then she'd been taken away from Earth ...

  “You're boarding tomorrow,” Gaby said, softly. “Is your escort ready to depart?”

  “I think so,” Edward said. He’d skimmed over the reports from Lieutenant Yamane, but he’d purposely not kept a close eye on her. “Loading up the shuttles will commence tomorrow, with the aim of having the entire formation embarked by the end of the day. We’ll learn a grea
t deal from doing it.”

  Gaby nodded. “I’ll miss you,” she admitted, changing the subject. “Four months without you to warm my bed.”

  “I’ll miss you too,” Edward told her. It would be the longest trip he'd taken from Avalon – and it would put a strain on their relationship, even though they weren't married. He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter if she found someone else while he was gone, but his heart refused to believe it. “I’d take you along if you could.”

  Gaby laughed. “And what sort of example would that set for your troops?”

  Edward laughed too. He'd always hated the officers who took luxuries – and wives, lovers or concubines – with them when they went into warzones, knowing that they were taking up valuable space that could have been used for more supplies. Besides, knowing that their officers had access to women while they didn't wasn't good for moral among the enlisted men. There might be no shortage of prostitutes outside army bases, but there was no way they could be taken onboard ship.

  “A poor one,” he said. He reached for her and pulled her into a hug. Her lips met his and they kissed deeply. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Tell your men to take very good care of you,” Gaby said. She fixed him with a stern expression that dared him to disagree. “That’s a direct order, by the way.”