Toward the end of his watch, Husher found himself in the command seat, working with Noni to carefully guide the Vesta out of dry dock without damaging anything. The tedious process took almost a half hour, and as soon as they were out in open space, Ensign Fry spoke.
“Sir, a recorded transmission just came in from a com drone that recently entered the system,” she said. “It’s addressed to you.”
“Play it, Ensign.”
President Chiba appeared on the main display. “Captain Husher. It pains me to have to record this message, especially after granting you a presidential pardon for the crimes of which you’ve been found guilty. Betraying my trust as you have isn’t much of a repayment. It’s come to my attention that you’re harboring aboard the Vesta a Quatro fugitive, who’s guilty of breaking several of their laws. If you’re at all interested in staying in command of your supercarrier, you will bring that Quatro to the Roundleaf System with all possible haste, where Quatro authorities will be on hand to arrest her. That is all.”
The president vanished from the main display, and a tense silence settled over the CIC as Husher weighed his options.
At last, he realized there was only one thing he could do. “Nav, set a course for Roundleaf, via the Feverfew-Thistle darkgate.”
Chapter 40
I'm Not Going to Ask
“You can’t do this,” Price told him, his voice tight as he stood over Husher’s desk, hands balled into fists.
“First of all, you need to address me as ‘captain’ or ‘sir.’ Second, I can and will do whatever I decide is best for this ship and best for the galaxy.”
The young pilot’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
“Sit down.”
Slowly, Price sat.
“Rug is only one being,” Husher said. “Do you really expect me to enter open rebellion against the Interstellar Union over one Quatro—a Quatro you sneaked onto my ship without my permission?”
“It’s wrong whether it’s one Quatro or a thousand,” Price shot back. “You know her arrest won’t be legitimate. You’ve seen the reasons the IU is arresting people for, lately. The Assembly of Elders’ reasons will be even less legitimate. They’re tyrants, obsessed with their own power. They only want Rug because she defied them.”
“According to Rug.”
Price’s jaw tightened. “So you’re planning to hand her over, then? Just like that?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What are you saying, then, sir?”
Husher drew a breath. “Maybe the IU can be reasoned with. I managed to bring them around to waging this war in the first place. Maybe I can get them to back off on this.”
“No way. The Elders won’t allow it. God, you really are becoming just like a Union politician, aren’t you, Captain? Trying to negotiate with people who have no interest in negotiating with you.”
“Better that than have the galaxy fall apart, making us easy pickings for the Progenitors.”
“Better to have the galaxy fall apart than let it become as hellish as the Elders made their own galaxy.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“I do.” Price’s eyes were locked onto Husher’s. “If you give them Rug, Oneiri leaves this ship.”
“You can’t leave. You’re under my command.”
“We agreed to follow your orders. We can just as easily decide to stop following them.”
“That would make you insubordinate.”
Jake laughed. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Husher opened his mouth to deliver a retort—something about how he ought to throw Price in a cell—but he closed it again, as he’d been struck hard by déjà vu. This conversation was just like several he’d had with Captain Keyes back on the Providence, except that he’d been in Price’s position, and Keyes had been where Husher was now.
He’d often questioned Keyes’s decisions, sometimes in what he knew was an inappropriate manner. But Keyes had needed him, just as Husher needed Price.
“I’ll make my decisions to the best of my ability,” he said at last. “And you’ll make yours. That’s all we can do.”
Husher’s com buzzed, and he picked it up from the table, finding a message from the second watch coms officer: “Sir, we’re currently passing through the Dooryard System, and we’ve just received a transmission request from the Marblehead. Should I route it to your office?”
The Marblehead. That was one of the ships the Brotherhood had stolen from the IU, before kicking off all nonhuman crew.
“Put it through,” he messaged back, and when it came, he instructed his Oculenses to play it on a blank section of the office wall, right next to the photo of the Vesta. He gave Price access to the conversation, via his implant. The mech pilot looked surprised at that, but he said nothing.
Captain Anthony Flores appeared on the wall, wearing a tight smile. “Captain,” he said, glancing at Price before turning again to Husher. “How fortunate that the Vesta would be passing through the very system the Brotherhood has chosen as a gathering place.”
“Define fortunate,” Husher said.
“I mean the word in the sincerest way possible. Though they are not currently visible to your sensors, every ship we have commandeered from the IGF is in this system, concealed behind moons, planets, and asteroids. But we mean you no harm. Quite the opposite—we would like to meet with you. It’s our belief that we stand to benefit each other greatly.”
“How?”
“It would be remiss for me to get into details during this conversation. I don’t speak for the entire Brotherhood, and our whole leadership should be represented in any such discussion. Will you meet with us, Captain?”
Husher studied the man’s face for a long time, trying to get a read on his intention. Was this a trap, or did he really have a proposal? And if he did, should Husher be interested in anything he had to propose?
Price spoke up, then. “Captain, this is how you can do the right thing and refuse to hand Rug over to the IU. With the backing of a second large battle group, how could they demand anything of the Vesta, especially while they’re busy fending off the Progenitors?”
Husher didn’t answer. He continued to study Flores’s face.
“It costs nothing to meet with us,” Flores said. “Nothing except time, and I can promise you that it will be time well spent.”
“All right,” Husher said at last. “Send a single shuttle, and know that if my sensors pick up any of your warships trying to maneuver against us, I’m not going to ask before firing.”
“Of course, Captain Husher,” Flores said, though his smile had left his eyes.
Chapter 41
Best for the Galaxy
A knock came at his office hatch, and Husher pressed a button on his desk. “Come in,” he said through the intercom.
The hatch opened, and his daughter entered. She closed it behind her, then walked to the chair and sat down.
“You’re meeting with human supremacists,” she said flatly.
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure which surprises me more—that, or the fact that you want me at the meeting.”
“They control eleven warships, Maeve. As I’m sure you’ve heard, at the end of our current voyage, the IU wants me to hand over the Quatro, Rug, to the Assembly of Elders. I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do.”
“Well, I’m sure an alliance with the Brotherhood isn’t the right thing to do either. Why don’t you hear the evidence against the Quatro, and then decide whether to give her to the Elders?”
Husher nodded. “That’s what I plan to do. But having eleven more ships at my back will give me a much better bargaining position if I decide not to do it.”
His daughter leaned forward, and for a moment, he was sure she was going to explode at him. But then, she didn’t. Instead, she leaned back in the chair and studied him.
“The last time we talked, you showed me that I was being inconsistent when it cam
e to silencing or even attacking Brotherhood supporters. That’s why I got so angry—because you made me feel like a hypocrite, and you were right to do that. If I support unprovoked attacks on Brotherhood members, then I support them against everyone. I get that, now.”
Husher opened his mouth to respond, then realized he had nothing to say. Wow. That was unexpected.
Shaking her head, Maeve said, “Listen, I know you think a lot of my generation has gone astray. And I know you really are trying to do the best thing for the galaxy. I get that, too, though I didn’t before, and a lot of people still don’t. But whatever you think about young people, they do own tomorrow. There’s no getting away from that. So if you want to make a case for your way of doing things—for tradition, honor, order, or whatever you want to call it—then you’d better not be a hypocrite. Because young people can smell hypocrisy a mile away, and if they see you betraying what you claim to believe, you’re done. You’ll be written off before you even realize it’s happening. And if the young really have gone astray, then you’ll only make them more astray.”
Husher nodded slowly. “Okay. Which of my beliefs do you think I’m betraying?”
“You say you want to do what’s best for the galaxy, and like I said, I believe that. But you’re focused on winning the war to the exclusion of everything else. That’s a short-term solution, Vin, and if you sacrifice everything that’s important to achieve it, then what’s the point?”
He smiled at her. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. So you’ll be at the meeting?”
Eyes narrowing, Maeve said, “You still plan to meet with them?”
“Yes. I do.”
Chapter 42
The Table of Power
Husher met the Brotherhood leadership at their shuttle, with a squad of marines at his back. The Brotherhood had brought their own armed escort, who exited the airlock first to array themselves on either side of it.
Next, Captain Flores stepped out, wearing a jet-black uniform. He saluted Husher, who returned the salute.
“This way,” Husher said, motioning to the hatch that led to the corridor. “We’ll have our discussion in the conference room. My officers are waiting there.”
“Thank you for coming personally to welcome us,” Flores said as he fell into step with Husher. “Many would not have shown us that much respect, and the fact you did speaks to your honorable reputation.”
Husher nodded. “Of course.” He doubted everyone in the IU would use the word honorable to describe him, but he didn’t feel like getting into that.
When they reached their destination, Husher took a seat at the far end of the conference table, at the head. The seats nearest the door had been left empty for the Brotherhood, and Flores settled in opposite from Husher. It was Husher’s custom to give guests the seats closest to the hatch, to make them feel more at ease.
He noticed his daughter staring at him, from where she sat next to Commander Ayam. Inclining his head toward her, he turned back to Flores. “Let’s waste no time. One way or another, the IU expects the Vesta in the Roundleaf System soon. What have you come here to propose?”
Flores spread his hands. “I know you want what’s best for humanity. I want the same. I—”
“I want what’s best for the galaxy.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?”
“There are other species in the galaxy.”
Flores smiled wanly. “Yes. Let’s get that matter out of the way, shall we? I know we both hold views the other finds distasteful. Please rest assured that we would not make any alliance between us conditional on you expelling nonhumans from your ship. I understand that you value them, and we don’t seek to oppose that.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Husher said flatly.
“Be at ease,” Flores said, nodding. “Now, as I’ve already alluded, I’m here to propose an alliance. A partnership. We both know the IU has not been conducting themselves in a rational manner. They’ve been violating their own principles left and right, and they’ve leapt into bed with a government that’s even worse. These unjust arrests are only the latest example of their tyranny, but they won’t be the last. Are we in agreement so far?”
“Basically, yes,” Husher said.
“Good. We are both rational people, Captain Husher. That’s the difference between us and the IU. They pose a clear threat to both of us, and to the war effort as well. I think you know that. And so I would put it to you that a partnership would grant us both security. Together, we would have greater leverage over the IU, and if things came to blows, then we would be better positioned in that regard as well.”
Husher folded his hands on the conference table. “You said that you wouldn’t ask me to kick out my nonhuman crew. But surely you would want to make an alliance conditional on something.”
“You’re very perceptive. You’re right, there is something we want, but I doubt it’s anything like you’re thinking. Captain, we don’t expect the Union to last very much longer. Their own corruption and rot renders them barely able to win this war, let alone survive its aftermath. All the Brotherhood wants in return for lending you our aid is a seat at the table in whatever society takes shape after the war.”
Husher paused. “You’re not referring to just any table. You want a seat at the table of power.”
Faltering for just a second, Flores said, “Yes.”
With that, Husher began to contend with what he’d known all along, on some level. By entering an alliance with the Brotherhood, he would bolster them. Lend them legitimacy. And even though he condemned their views, by aligning himself with them, he would be tacitly endorsing them.
Maybe allying with the Brotherhood was the only path to victory through the thicket of brambles this war had become. But if it meant helping the Brotherhood shape the society that came after, it wasn’t worth it to him.
“I support you having a seat at the table,” Husher said. “By which I mean, I will defend your right to express your views, however repugnant I find them.” He glanced at Maeve. “But I won’t help you win a seat at the table of power. So my answer is no, Captain Flores. I’ve heard you out, and I’ve made my decision. There will be no partnership between us.”
A brittle silence fell over the conference room as the Brotherhood leaders in attendance stiffened in their chairs. For their part, Husher’s officers seemed to relax in theirs. He may have just consigned them all to defeat and death, but even if he had, they would die with clear consciences.
Flores rose to his feet. “You will come to regret your decision,” he said, and he left the conference room, the other Brotherhood members filing out behind him.
Husher turned to the pair of marines stationed near the hatch. “Take the rest of your squad and see them to their shuttle,” he ordered.
The marines both saluted. “Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
“All right, everyone,” Husher said to his officers. “The show’s over, and we have a meeting with the IU to make. Before that, we might even have an engagement on our hands, depending on what Flores meant by his statement that I’ll regret my decision.”
The officers stood, saluted him, and left.
With that, only he and Maeve remained. They both rose to their feet and headed for the hatch.
Before Husher could leave, she wrapped him in an embrace, pressing her head against his chest.
“Thank you, Dad,” she said.
Chapter 43
One Way or Another
The shuttle’s airlock cycled through its usual processes, and the inner hatch opened, admitting Anthony Flores and the rest of the Sapient Brotherhood leaders. Their armed escort followed soon after.
In silence, Flores made his way to his crash seat halfway down the shuttle’s port side. None of the other leaders spoke either. No doubt they were contemplating the implications of what had just happened.
Once everyone was aboard, the pilot lifted off from the Vesta’s flight deck, heading for the airlock, which was big
enough for shuttles and starfighters to pass through.
“Do you think Husher will try to stop us from reaching our ships?” Captain Reggie Butler asked.
“No,” Flores said. “I meant what I said about his honor.”
“He’s an honorable fool.”
“Time will determine the veracity of that statement. But for us, our decision is made clear. We gave Husher the chance to save himself. We turned to a member of our own species, and he spurned us. No matter. We have been loyal to humanity every step of the way, and we will remain loyal—but in a way that will prove more painful than it could have been.”
Butler nodded. “To save the species from the IU…we know what we have to do.”
“We must take Teth’s offer.”
“Yes,” Butler said, nodding, and the gesture was mirrored by the other Brotherhood leaders in the shuttle.
“The Interstellar Union will fall,” Flores said. “One way or another.”
Chapter 44
Political Prisoner
“Transitioning into Roundleaf now, Captain,” Winterton said.
“Acknowledged, Ensign.”
Fifteen minutes later, Winterton had more news for him: “There are two capital starships in orbit around Thebes, along with their respective battle groups and five Quatro warships.”
“Wow,” Tremaine said. “That’s quite a welcoming party.”
“Indeed,” Husher said. “Nav, set a course that takes us close enough for real-time communication, but no closer.”
“Aye, sir.”
Husher shifted in his command seat, his discomfort as much to do with his inner struggle as with the unyielding chair. They’ve certainly gathered together a lot of muscle to greet us with. Clearly, the IU had anticipated that he might have reservations about handing over Rug.
The Vesta proceeded down the Roundleaf System’s gravity well, her battle group maintaining a dispersed V behind her. It was a stately arrangement, and whether it was considered a formality or a battle formation would depend on how paranoid whoever you asked was feeling.
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