Fall of the Terran Empire, page 9
Pulling him toward her, she executed the nikyo, or second defense technique, and applied torque to his wrist in such a cruel way that he felt the spiral fracture coming on his two forearm bones before he could react. His body’s automatic reflex was to drop to his knees to relieve the stress on his forearm and wrist, leaving him sitting there in a servant’s pose at her disposal.
She completed the pin again and then left him to the mercies and mockery of Corporal Ford. Traci left the mat to go and change. As she walked quickly toward the women’s shower area, she could hear Heather heckling the hapless marine, who now had a new respect for Traci Ganner. And in return, Traci’s mind was now clear enough to allow her to get some sleep.
Chapter 7
“Come in and sit down, Admiral.” Chief Councilor Agron greeted Vice Admiral Nagao at the door of the council chamber. The wood paneling on the doors and walls was a sign that the chamber had been in existence for hundreds of years, perhaps dating back to the founding of the Orion colonies on Bellatrix and Rigel. Councilors Hyatt and Schlein were already seated in chairs that faced the large hardwood desk in the center of the hall. The admiral followed councilor Agron to a seat that was unoccupied and seated himself, his braided hat in his hand.
The room reminded Nagao of a large rotunda. All around the room were small statue figurines mounted on marble plinths, each holding a sword or bow, some with shields or clubs. They were arranged just outside the seating area, as if they were somehow protecting the councilors and their guests. Behind the statues were bookcases lined with volumes of various tomes. They looked like law books to Nagao, although they could have been anything. All of the wood was stained dark, but betrayed its grain in the soft light that floated in from the many floor-to-ceiling windows through the fractionally opaque curtains.
“We have just completed another analysis cycle, Admiral. You may be pleased to learn that the plan remains unchanged.”
The admiral grunted his acknowledgement and looked down at the hat in his hand. This was the fourth such meeting with the councilors, and only the first where nothing had changed. Gathering himself, he spoke to Councilor Agron.
“I lost another two destroyers and a heavy cruiser in our latest engagement with the Terran fleet. Admiral Pearson is learning.”
“Yes, you said as much in your report,” Agron responded calmly.
“That was four hundred fifty-one souls,” Nagao stated flatly. “Many of them very young.”
Agron’s lips tightened into a thin line. After a few heartbeats, he spoke. “These losses are well within the calculated limits of the plan. Fleet Admiral Pearson must not suspect that we are sacrificing our own ships to bait the trap.”
“Yes, I know,” said Nagao. He sighed and stood up. Walking to one of the statues, he marveled at the detail of the sculpture. “The Valdi are making test runs along the hyperspace lanes. They will be ready to invade soon.”
Councilor Hyatt spoke up. “The Valdi analysis has been tuned based on their rate of starship construction and the speed at which they have absorbed the new technology. There is a seventy-nine point four percent probability that invasion will occur within four months.”
“And I am to continue this farce of a war until that time?” Nagao asked rhetorically. Of course, he knew the answer. He had been part of the original planning.
“Of more importance is our continuing to refine the plan with respect to the emperor. He must not suspect that we are guiding the pieces on the board. His megalomania is off the card, but our calculations must also account for his ingenuity.”
“There is an eighty-four percent probability that he will respond to the Valdi threat by retracting all of his fleets to defend Earth. There is a ninety point zero seven percent chance that the duke will betray him when the invasion reaches stage two, there--”
“Yes, I know the numbers,” the admiral spat. “But I cannot continue to throw lives away for no gain at all.”
Councilor Agron stood and walked over to the statue that had held the admiral’s attention. It was a statue of a young female warrior with only a dagger in her hand. She was recoiling from something, perhaps an animal or another warrior. Agron stopped beside Nagao and looked at the statue.
“When the invasion reaches stage four, Captain Traci Ganner will be the key. Nothing must happen to her.”
“How can you be so sure?” Admiral Nagao whispered. “She’s just one Terran officer.”
“Because the analysis is accurate. We had to sacrifice two good operatives to the emperor’s intelligence network in order to prevent him from suspecting what we are doing. Also, the personality profile of Fleet Admiral Pearson makes it imperative that he be the one left standing when this is over. And she will have become the perfect opponent for him.”
“There are other officers that could have filled the role more easily. She was just a light cruiser commander, for God’s sake.”
“Yes, but her will, determination, and analysis capabilities make her the perfect choice. You will find her a most formidable combatant when the time comes, especially when they discover what she has done.”
“More importantly, she must be kept safe until stage four. Whatever it takes, Admiral,” Councilor Schlein remarked.
“I know,” Nagao conceded. “I will do what is required.”
Agron placed his hand on the admiral’s shoulder. “Of course. As will we all.”
Chapter 8
“I bring news of the war on the Orion front, father,” Prince Eglon stated as he strode up to where the emperor was standing. The elder man had his arms extended upon the ramparts of a parapet of one of the tall castle spires. He was peering vainly off into the distance, over the courtyard many stories below, where various obelisks and statues were arranged, almost with random effect, as if a child had strewn his toys on the ground. For a moment, the emperor ignored his son, acting as if he had not heard him.
Not normally a bashful sort, the prince recognized when his father was in a contemplative mood. He had something he wanted to say, and no amount of impatience would get it out of him before its time.
“Do you see the balanced obelisk, there to the north?” the emperor stated, still not looking at his son. Prince Eglon moved to his father’s side and followed his gaze to the monolith that pierced the sky, easily a half-kilometer in height. “I had it erected over twenty years ago, not long after you were born.”
“Yes, I know the one,” the young prince answered. “I used to steal out to look at the bottom of it, very curious that it was so narrow.”
“Indeed,” said his father, taking one last look at the tall, thin object before turning to look at his son. “Do you know why it balances on a single point, not more than a meter in width?”
“No, father,” the prince said. He used to attempt to guess at these riddles his father so enjoyed posing to him. The old man was amused at watching his son grapple with something he had meant solely for his own amusement. And yet, the answers always surprised him, as they were meant to do. The emperor was rather taken with himself and his own wisdom, which he believed to be stunning. Perhaps he did have some hidden knowledge to share, but he always made an irritating game of it. Sometimes, the prince would rather have him just come out with whatever he wanted to convey, but it was better this way. His father believed himself far superior in all matters--what difference did it make if the son allowed him to continue the illusion?
“Its key is its balance. It has no tethers, no moorings to hold it in its place, only three small blocks of crystal equidistant around its base. It masses over one hundred thousand tons, and is made of a single adamantium crystal, strong yet very brittle. A strong man could place his hands on the stone, and if he were to push hard enough, it would snap off of its base and pulverize half the buildings on the north side of the palace. And yet here, today, it continues to stand, proudly looking over Imperial City. Its balance is the key. If it were to become unbalanced, say if someone removed one of the three crystal blocks at its base, then a strong enough wind or a ground tremor could cause it to fall.”
The emperor stood looking at his son. The prince stared into his eyes until he feared his father’s displeasure and looked away.
“The Imperium is like this obelisk, my son,” the elder said. “There are violent forces that desire to strike at its base and depose me. Fortunately, my spy network keeps me informed of everything going on about me. For each person who is disloyal, there is another wishing to curry my favor for reasons of ambition or survival. Thus, my personal safety remains in balance.”
The prince looked at the obelisk again, staring at its majesty, daring to think that one day it would be his. Perhaps on that day, he himself would go and push the mighty stone over, just to see if he could.
“We did not always have such a mighty star fleet,” the emperor continued, seemingly unaware that his son was not attuned to his sophistication. “As my fathers began to conqueror the various star colonies and kingdoms, we needed a larger fleet to protect convoys and to provide order over so many star systems. As we spread further outward, star systems began to band together to oppose us. The more systems we hold, the more starships we are able to build using the resources of the worlds in our possession.” As he continued his monologue, his use of the term “we” was to describe himself, not his heirs. He looked again at the obelisk and spoke more softly, as though he were conveying secrets someone else might overhear. “The governors and knights of our Empire are mostly squabblers who fight over scraps. The real power comes from the fleet commanders. They are the ones who command our ships of the line, capable of slaying all those who would seek to meet them in battle above the heavens. Take Duke Mihialovich, for example. He is fearless in battle and could easily defeat a rival fleet if they were evenly matched. It is because of this that I make it a priority to know what drives such a man. He sees himself as my successor and would not hesitate to do anything that would bring him more power and influence on his way to assassinate or supplant me. He would even attack Home Fleet if he thought he had the advantage. Fortunately, the Knight Marshal commands Home Fleet. He doesn’t care who is on the throne; his allegiance is to the stability of the Empire and the protection of its citizens.”
The emperor allowed himself a small chuckle. Obviously, the prince was expected to laugh also, as if he understood where the raving man was going with this drivel.
“But Admiral Pearson is the true counterbalance. He does not seek the throne and never will. It is enough for him to be a loyal supporter of the crown and fight the battles to extend the Empire. He is both a brilliant military strategist and a man of principle. It is for this reason that I would never send him to do the tasks I leave to Mihialovich. He has no stomach for the dirty jobs. It is also important that I make sure Pearson and Elbazi always outrank Mihialovich; I do not want to risk having the duke issue an order that could potentially take Pearson out of the equation.”
The emperor smiled as he stared out over the rampart. The prince watched him from the corner of his eye. Someday, he himself would be the emperor. When that day came, he would not waste his time in long speeches with his heirs. Let them find their own way. He would ride out with his star fleet and conquer in the style of old, leading his troops in their battles for glory and honor. He would not sit in the palace and give orders to admirals from afar.
The emperor seemed to shake himself out of his reverie. “Enough talk, my son,” he said, looking at his son as if seeming to notice him for the first time. “I want you and Lord Guba to take Second Fleet and visit our heart worlds. I want to ensure that our food supplies are going to be adequate for the needs of our governed worlds. A visit from the crown will ensure that they do not forget to send their very best to us here, on old Earth.”
“Father, this is a servant’s errand, a milk run,” the prince said testily. “Send me to the far reaches to fight in the battles of dynasty. Please, let me go to the Orion cluster to show Admiral Pearson how to conquer our foes. I have not failed to notice that he wins battles slowly and with losses that must be replenished from my own fleet! I can win them easily with both his fleet and mine.”
“No, my son,” the emperor chided. “You will do as I command. Someday, when you have gained more wisdom, you too will understand the need to maintain the presence of the crown in our heart worlds. Go, enjoy the tributes and feasts they will offer. Accept them with good grace. Let them believe they are part of a glorious empire, so they will remain loyal to us and not become troublesome.”
His father turned and began to inspect a song-tree nearby. Seeing that the conversation had concluded, the prince turned to take his leave. Someday soon, the prince thought. Someday soon, you will be under my heel, and then we will see who gives orders to whom.
Chapter 9
The Kraken was very ugly, even as far as freighters went. Most of the patchwork and parts were from a dozen different worlds, and almost nothing matched. Indeed, she was ugly, and slow, and about as maneuverable as the asteroids she ferried ore from; but still, her captain thought of her as his big, beloved rust bucket. She made her routine trips between the asteroid cluster and the orbital refineries, day after day, year after year. And boring wasn’t so bad after all. Captain Hanif loved walking up and down her cramped berths and talking to his beloved freighter as he would to a loving spouse whom he had spent his life with.
Asteroid Cygna Epsilon, outermost in its group, was covered in ice. It paid for itself by rendering up mountainous glaciers that would produce fresh water for the dry planets in the Pollux system. It was a simple matter of cleaving off a huge pylon of glacier ice, then making precise cuts along the crystalline faults until it rendered a chunk small enough to fit in the Kraken’s cavernous holds. The asteroid was also rich in lanthanide elements and other heavy metals, and Hanif’s family had gotten in the first claim on its northernmost shore’s mineral rights three generations ago.
Hanif whistled to himself as he climbed down the main access ladder to the larger cargo hold to inspect the floor latches that had been giving him trouble lately. On the last cruise, one of the latches had given out completely, and a particularly large block of ice had shifted nearly enough to sever the outer doors. It would cost him a small fortune to replace the latch, so he chose to reinforce the remaining latches and jury-rig the broken one to act merely as a stop, holding the cargo pinned against the other latches. Perhaps if he pushed his engines a little bit more, he might just make this run in under a week, which would earn him a tiny bonus from the guild for coming in under schedule. Of course, he would then have to make the next run even quicker to pay for the damage he would do to the tub’s worn out ion drive. Ah, there just never seemed to be enough pay to fix everything at once. Still, he thought dreamily, if he could just pay off the parts of the boat that he owed repair costs on, there was a possibility he could give his daughter and soon to be son-in-law a rather nice gift for their wedding.
Satisfied with his efforts, he ascended the ladder once more and made his way to the bridge. As he stepped into the compartment and crossed to his command chair, he paused to check the engineering displays. The engine room temperature had risen another half degree over the last hour, which meant the ion drive couplings were wearing thin again. He sighed and decided that someday he would need to replace those too.
“Captain?” He looked up at his son and first mate, who was accompanied by the master of the boat. They were looking up at a sensor display panel above the engineering monitor station. “Could you have a look at this, Papa?”
Hanif crossed to the engineering station, frowning at Walee and wondering what chunk of his precious ship had broken off and floated away this time. Or perhaps Walee had discovered some new knickknack of floating detritus to ogle over.
“What is it now?”
“There is a ship out here. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear I’m picking up a drive field.”
“A drive field? Out here?” Hanif tried to keep the incredulity out of his voice.
“Yes, sir. Its frequency matches nothing in our database.” Huaath waved at his display. “And judging from the power curves, it’s big. Look for yourself.”
Hanif brushed the younger men aside as he studied the readout for himself. His eyes widened, for the instruments did indeed show that there was a drive field out there. Hanif’s sensor suite was woefully inadequate for determining anything reliable about the ship he was seeing--he should probably upgrade that too someday--but the signature burned clear and sharp, and Hanif had a sudden, terrible suspicion.
“Speed?” he asked quietly.
“It’s moving slowly ahead at space normal,” Walee said. Hanif scratched his bald pate, where he once had as much hair as the young man in front of him. If it was a pirate…
“Incoming missiles!” someone screamed. Hanif stared at the display in shock. Missiles were coming at his precious tub--not one, or two, or a dozen, but scores of them.
“Why would they be shooting at Kraken?” Hanif asked, almost to himself as his mind began to catch up with what he was seeing. He was too far out from the Antares base to call for aid, and he had no shields to protect himself from the impact of those weapons bearing down on him. His last thought was of his daughter. He wouldn’t even get to walk her down the aisle.
* * *
“Commander, three more just showed up on the long sats.” Commander Wainright walked to the duty officer’s station and looked over the ensign’s shoulder.
“So far, I see four ships--no, make that five--that have just entered the system’s outer perimeter--” he looked over at the chrono “--eleven minutes ago. At first, I thought it was freighter traffic. It matches the vector from the Sidium asteroids, but then the ship counts started increasing. The sensor grid’s calling it a ‘light task group,’ but the class sizes don’t add up.”
