Drifter's Folly (Peacekeepers of Sol Book 4)

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Drifter's Folly (Peacekeepers of Sol Book 4) Page 20

by Glynn Stewart


  “Not yet,” the Sovereign said. “There will be another meeting of the Close Council at sunrise. You will be invited once again. There, you will be permitted to make your case for what you wish from us.

  “Until we have a specific agreement and plan, we have no intention of allowing your ships to run wild in our territory,” Torus noted. “We now believe your warnings about the Drifters and we will permit you to pursue, but this will not be an open account, Commodore Wong.”

  “We are willing to abide by restrictions set by the Gathered Tribes, I believe,” Sylvia promised. That was…partially a lie. So long as the restrictions were reasonable, they’d live with them. To a point.

  Sooner or later, though, Twelfth Fleet was going to go after the BGO Convoy. The Eerdish would either allow that or be pushed out of the way.

  “I expect we will come to a reasonable agreement,” Torus said. She suspected he figured exactly where the UPA stood. “While I cannot guarantee that the Close Council will allow your pursuit of the Drifters through our territory, I also cannot see any reason we would deny you now.

  “But a balance must be struck between our sovereignty and the Kozun threat to our stars and allies and your mission, Ambassador Todorovich,” he warned. “Eskala and I believe that balance can be found, but we do not control the Close Council, let alone the full Council of Tribes.”

  He inclined his head.

  “You needed to be updated on the state of affairs,” he told them. “We will speak again in the morning, when the Close Council gathers once more to deal with this problem you have created for us.”

  Torus rose with the same calm elegance that he had seated himself with.

  “The Servants will shortly bring your meal,” he promised. “Please, feel free to ask of them for anything you need. You are not, I remind you, prisoners here—though I will admit that you are more honored guests this eve than you were this morn.”

  Morning brought them all back to the underground chamber with its descending benches. Once again, the Sovereign of Sovereigns was seated before Sylvia and her people entered the room. They were joined by the Enteni ambassador but not, for reasons obvious after Torus’s evening visit, the Drifters.

  “Welcome again to the private chamber of the Close Council,” Eskala greeted them. “Torus advised you last night of our initial learnings around the Drifters’ treachery. The night has brought more news, but the fundamentals of the matter are unchanged.”

  “How may the UPSF assist the Gathered Tribes and Highest Principals?” Sylvia asked.

  “The Drifters have not acted against us, though the traps they laid through the arms they sold us suggest a preparation for such,” one of the other Sovereigns said. “We have no need to act against them so long as they do not attack our people.”

  “But the protection they were granted by our sacred hospitality is now lifted,” Eskala countered firmly. “We are prepared to consider permitting you to act against them. So speak, Ambassador Todorovich, of what the United Planets Alliance would have from us.”

  Sylvia glanced at Yonca, who gestured for her to answer the question. That much was obvious, she supposed.

  “The UPSF has assembled a strike force capable of neutralizing the defenders of the BGO Convoy,” she admitted. “The destroyers under Commodore Henry Wong’s command are scouts, seconded from our normal peacekeeping forces in this region.

  “We pursued the Drifters to the Nohtoin System but did not violate your space. Now we request permission for Commodore Wong’s ships to follow Ambassador Blue-Stripe-Third-Green back to the Convoy and locate them.

  “Once the Convoy is located, we request free passage for Twelfth Fleet to proceed through your space to engage the Drifters and neutralize their threat.”

  The plan was to seize control of the Convoy until they were certain they knew why the Drifters had attacked them—and hence could make sure it didn’t happen again. The destruction of the Convoy wasn’t anyone’s plan.

  In theory, at least, the Convoy’s threat could be neutralized without killing their civilians.

  “We do not require the Eerdish-Enteni Alliance’s assistance in dealing with the Drifters,” she noted. “And we will formally commit to share no sensor data from our mission with the Kozun Hierarchy.

  “Beyond this particular mission, we hope to negotiate peaceful trade agreements for ourselves and to open doors for the La-Tar Cluster to negotiate trade agreements of their own,” she noted. “We are certainly prepared to act as intermediaries between you and the Kozun as well, though we understand that peace negotiations require two willing parties.”

  Eskala traded glances with their fellow Sovereigns, then leaned forward to hold Sylvia’s gaze.

  “We are prepared to authorize passage for Commodore Wong’s three destroyers,” they said. “We will provide a Sovereign Writ to draw on Eerdish Security Force logistics for fuel and supplies, if needed, and to grant free passage through our stars.

  “In exchange, we will require full copies of your sensor data from your trip through our stars and everything you learn of the Drifters,” the Sovereign of Sovereigns concluded. “Once you have located the Convoy, then we can discuss whether the Gathered Tribes and our allies are prepared to permit you to bring a fleet into our stars.”

  Passionate Iron leaned forward and fluttered a limb as Eskala paused.

  “We can-will also provide free passage to the stars-we-claim of the Highest Principals,” they noted. “Our Alliance stands as one in this.”

  “It is appreciated,” Sylvia said with a small bow of her head. “We are prepared to negotiate passage for the fleet at a later date, but locating the Convoy is critical. We are willing to provide that sensor data in exchange.”

  She knew that Henry might reduce the resolution and integrity of that data to give away less of the Cataphracts’ abilities, but they could certainly pass over the data.

  As for negotiating Twelfth Fleet’s passage, it was possible the Drifters would be well beyond the space of the E-Two Alliance before the Terrans could catch them. At that point, the negotiation would truly just be for passage—which would be cheaper than permission to wage war in Eerdish space.

  “Then it is agreed,” Eskala said firmly. They waved a hand around the room. “As for trade agreements and peaceful communications, these are discussions that will take more time than I expect Commodore Wong wishes to spend here.

  “We are prepared to open those discussions with yourself and the La-Tar representatives, if you will remain here?”

  “I must remain with Commodore Wong’s squadron,” Sylvia admitted. She hadn’t honestly expected the Eerdish to want to commence trade negotiations immediately—that implied that they might be shorter on trade partners than she’d suspected.

  Even if she had to go, though, there were options.

  “I can, however, leave another empowered representative of the United Planets Alliance here with Envoys Yonca and Swaying Reed,” she said. “Envoy Felix Leitz would be able to speak on behalf of both myself and our government for those discussions while Commodore Wong and I search for the Drifters.”

  There was always the hope that she could talk the Drifters down from the precipice they’d walked themselves out onto. Sylvia wasn’t sure what they could do to convince the UPA that they weren’t a threat now, but the possibility existed, so a diplomat had to be attached to the scout mission.

  “This is acceptable,” Eskala told her. “Please, Ambassadors, Envoys, Commodore. We have an agreement for now. Dine with me?”

  For the first time in the hidden chamber, white-robed Servants emerged. Each carried a plate of food and Sylvia concealed a smile.

  She doubted that most people, even diplomatic representatives, were invited to eat breakfast with the Sovereign of Sovereigns. They’d apparently made quite the impression there.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Henry was barely able to conceal his relief when he finally stepped back onto the metal decks of his flags
hip. Potentially hostile planets were always stressful—and he was discovering he wasn’t a large fan of spending time locked with Sylvia in close quarters and not being able to take advantage of that fact.

  She was a step behind him exiting the shuttle, but the two of them had been the only passengers on the shuttle. Their bodyguards were remaining on the surface to augment the security detail going down with Felix Leitz.

  A permanent embassy was allowed significantly more aides and security personnel than a representative of a potential enemy, it turned out.

  Captain Ihejirika and Commander Eowyn were waiting for them as Henry and Sylvia cleared the safety barriers around the shuttle landing zone, both saluting Henry crisply as he approached.

  Henry returned the salutes.

  “Welcome back aboard Paladin, ser,” the destroyer’s massive Captain told him. “It’s good to see you and the Ambassador well.”

  “We were never in danger, as it turned out,” Henry replied with a chuckle. “Ambassador Todorovich had the entire situation well in hand.”

  “It helped that apparently the Drifters couldn’t keep themselves from screwing with all of the missiles they sold,” Sylvia said drily. “There’s a lot of potential here, but that’ll be on Felix. For us… I don’t suppose you got a good look at the Drifter ship when they ran?”

  Henry chuckled again.

  “The Ambassador is asking my questions before I can,” he told his team. “Update us as we walk? You may as well fill her in, too.”

  “Yes, ser,” Ihejirika confirmed, falling into step with Henry. Both of his subordinates quickly realized Henry was heading to his flag-deck office.

  He was feeling out of the loop and that meant getting back to work.

  “We had a front-row seat to the worm knocking out Eerdish Security Forces’ sensors,” Eowyn said quietly. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. So far as the ESF could see, that ship just wasn’t there.”

  “It was that obvious, was it?” Henry asked.

  “She flew about fifty kilometers in front of Hazalosh’s bow on her way out,” the Ops officer said grimly. “Whoever was in charge knew the locals couldn’t see her—and figured we weren’t going to open fire without Eerdish permission.”

  “Honestly, we didn’t put together what we were looking at until the ship was well on its way,” Ihejirika grumbled. “I thought the ESF was doing some kind of exercise. It was an odd-looking little ship, even smaller than that raider corvette the Drifters used in Nohtoin.”

  “The Eerdish said it had other stealth systems as well?” Henry said.

  “Once we realized what was going on, we watched her the entire way to the skip line,” Eowyn replied. “Or we tried to, anyway. She vanished about a light-minute from the planet.”

  “Vanished, Commander?” Henry asked. He traded a swift salute with a working party as the four officers dodged around an open panel where the team was working on some of Paladin’s electricals.

  “Like in Avas, ser,” she told him. “Stealth systems. They started running a mirroring program on their hull and sinking their heat. We knew where she was, so we could keep a decent probability cone on her, but…”

  Eowyn shook her head.

  “If we hadn’t been watching her, I don’t think we’d have seen her at that one light-minute. I can see, mostly, how their system is working. But I’ll be damned if I think we have the tech to replicate it.”

  “Is it less or more visible than GMS at half a KPS-squared?” Henry asked. He’d been pleasantly surprised by how sneaky his ships were at low accelerations.

  “Less,” she warned. “Not a lot less, but less—and they were burning faster than that. We know which skip line they took, but even with our scanners, they were hard to follow.”

  “Are we going to be able to follow their trail on the other end?” he said.

  “Maybe,” Eowyn warned. “Maybe not. We may need to rely on the locals having picked them up as they pass.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do, if necessary,” he agreed. “Blue-Stripe-Third-Green is a fresher lead than the trail in Nohtoin, so let’s follow him home. When is the rest of the squadron due to arrive?”

  “Cataphract and Maharatha have confirmed receipt of orders by return drone,” Eowyn said. “They’ll be entering the skip line around now and arriving in Eerdish in nine hours.”

  “We’ll want to run the numbers on whether it’s more efficient to rendezvous and then follow the Drifters or have them head to the skip line independently,” Henry ordered. “Or have you already done that?”

  “My team has been working on it,” Eowyn confirmed as they reached the flag deck. She blinked as she received a message. “And they’re done. Good timing.”

  “And?”

  “We’ll save about four hours if we all head directly to the Sohn System skip line when the rest of the squadron enters Eerdish,” she told him.

  “Get the orders drafted,” Henry replied. “Captain?”

  “I’ll have my navigators working on a course,” Ihejirika replied. “Paladin is ready to deploy in all respects. The locals have provided us with fuel and food to restock our supplies. We’re scanning it all right now, but I’m not expecting any trouble.”

  “Wise,” Sylvia murmured as they reached Henry’s office. “Trust but verify. These people are now tentatively friends, but let’s not forget they’re at war with our explicit allies.”

  “The Kozun are going to regret that,” Ihejirika replied. “If the Enteni are running the same gear as the ESF, the Hierarchy has no idea what they’re walking into.”

  “I didn’t ask who developed their new energy screens,” Sylvia said. “It is on Felix’s plate to see if we can buy a few. I know R-Div would love to have an energy screen they could layer inside the gravity shield.”

  Henry had sent his coffee order on ahead and took several cups from the machine as the others took seats around his desk. Passing them around, he smiled thinly.

  “All right, people. To new friends here…and a giant pile of work.” He toasted with the coffee cup. “What else do the Ambassador and I need to catch up on?”

  Later, Henry and Sylvia finally found some alone time in his quarters. After catching up on time without privacy, the pair lay in his bed, with soft music playing in the background.

  “I definitely missed privacy,” Sylvia purred at him, her head resting on his shoulder. “Though I worry about scandalizing your crew.”

  Henry chuckled and kissed the top of her head. It was a little late for that concern.

  “If there is anyone on the crew who didn’t know we were a couple when they reported aboard, their Chief made sure they knew about it long before they could cause an issue,” he noted. “The Chiefs make the Space Force run, and, believe me, I’d already know if they disapproved.”

  In private, much of his lover’s sharp mask faded. Some remained—as Henry knew, you could only wear a mask during every working hour for so long before it became your real face—but she was more open with her emotions when it was just the two of them.

  “The Chief network in full play and power, huh?” she asked.

  “Without noncoms, we don’t have a Space Force,” he told her. “That’s not always clear from a civilian perspective, I don’t think, but it’s all too true. And, hell, I had commissioned subordinates suggesting I find flower shops well before I realized how I felt.”

  “Possibly before you even felt it,” she murmured. “I did some research. It takes a while for demisexuals to open up to anyone romantically. If we hadn’t been working as closely together, you probably never would have been as attracted to me.”

  “I know,” Henry agreed, then kissed the top of her head. “The Space Force’s councilors do as much as possible to make sure nobody gets out of the Academy without knowing what their sexuality is and how that works for them. Makes managing the interface of careers, relationships and sex much cleaner when everybody knows what direction their own switches flip.”
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br />   “Oh so sensible,” Sylvia said.

  Henry sighed.

  “Rules and policies like that are written in blood, Sylvia,” he said quietly. “They make us study historical incidents in command training. Failures of discipline. Domestic abuse. Sexual assault. Abuse of authority.

  “Knowing which way your own switches flip doesn’t necessarily prevent all of these, but it’s one tool in our kit. Those problems lasted a long time in militaries, longer than they ever should have. The UPSF is determined that they will not happen in our uniform.”

  He realized he’d tensed up when Sylvia lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him.

  “That’s a good thing,” she told him. “Hierarchy always risks abuse—that’s true in the diplomatic corps, too—but military hierarchies tend to be more rigid. It’s…good to know that the Force I keep working with are trying their damnedest.”

  “We are,” Henry said, exhaling a long breath. “Doesn’t stop us getting in all kinds of other trouble, but we seem to have a lot of old problems beat.”

  He shook his head, staring up at the roof for a moment as he ran through a conscious muscle relaxation exercise.

  “Do you think we’re going to talk the Kozun down from fighting the E-Two?” he finally asked. “You’re the diplomat.”

  “You know the Kozun better than I do, still,” Sylvia noted. “I thought they were rolling up all of their wars, not concentrating their forces for one last fight.”

  “Right now, if they fight the E-Two, they’re going to lose,” Henry murmured. “We can’t tell them that—they wouldn’t believe us—but it worries me. If the Kenmiri are coming back around, I’d rather have all of our allies at full strength and on the same side.”

  “Short of picking a side, my love, I don’t think we can stop that war,” she told him, her admission sending a shiver down his spine. “Both sides know we’re prepared to act as intermediaries, and that will help end it earlier than it might end otherwise, but the Kozun have picked a path and they’re going to walk it until they get a bloody nose out of it.”

 

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