Imprint of Blood

by Phil Huddleston

  “Very much so, sir,” said the man, with an accent not too much different from Jake’s own. “Thank you, and my family thanks you.”

  “Very well,” Jake nodded at Gunner. “Let’s do it.”

  Gunner pressed a cube into the man’s hands which undoubtedly contained a large amount of money in some numbered bank account. The man grinned at Jake, saluted, and walked out the door.

  Gunner led Jake to the back of the room, where a hidden door popped open at his touch. They passed through, carefully closing it behind them, and Jake found himself in a small cleaning closet. At the back, Gunner pushed another hidden latch, and they were in a small office. Laid out for him were new clothes, as non-descript as possible. Jake changed quickly, leaving behind everything except his sword. He looked at Gunner questioningly, and Gunner nodded. “You can take it. Here, put it in this,” he said, passing Jake a soft carry-on bag.

  After a few minutes, Jake was ready. Gunner led him through another door, and they found themselves in a service tunnel, which crossed the field to the far side. Walking through, they came up inside another cleaning closet, then into another restroom. Outside the restroom, they went directly through a gate to a private shuttle apron, where a plain, unmarked Aeolian shuttle showing plenty of wear and tear waited for them. Inside, Jake tossed his gear behind the seat and buckled in, then glanced out the window at the shuttleport. A light rain had just started. The smell of rain was the last thing he remembered about Barcam and his life in Aeolis.

  City of Aronte

  Empress Miranda was holding court again. Surrounded by her inner circle, with her sister Merope beside her, she had just completed a toast to the destruction of the rebel force and the end of the threat to Aronte.

  “Where is Antiope?” she turned to Merope and asked. “I would see my niece and grandnieces today. Are they coming?”

  Merope shrugged. “Antiope was under the weather, she said she couldn’t come. Hippolyta is helping her with the baby, I believe.”

  “Too bad,” said Miranda. “I do love to have new babies around me!”

  A male servant entered the room behind her. Miranda paid him no attention at first. After several moments, though, she sensed something and turned to look at him. He stood quite close to her, holding in his hands a large silver serving dish.

  “What do you want?” Miranda glared at him. “What do you have there?”

  “Freedom, Mum,” said Anicetus quietly, lifting the lid of the serving dish. The explosion killed everyone in the room instantly, blowing out all four walls and bringing down the ceiling as well.

  ***

  Jake was dozing in his bunk on the corvette, more than halfway home. It was a long eight weeks back to Kamilaroi, with a stop for two days at Eudora, the RDF forward base closest to the Aeolian Empire. He had spent the evening exchanging messages with Lois Vetton at Tolleson Base. She had made it clear she was ready to retire and expected Jake to step back into his role as CNO. And Gunner Carlson had also announced to Jake his intention to retire. Jake forgot, sometimes, that everyone else aged, although he did not.

  Jake had insisted that both Lois and Gunner stay on part-time as members of his advisory council. Both had agreed. Thus, it appeared there was nothing for it; after more than two years away, Jake was returning to his role as CNO of the Rim Defense Force.

  A gentle knock on his door brought him up from his slumbers.

  “Come,” he said. Gunner entered the room, holding his tablet in his hand. He walked over to Jake and handed it to him, silently. Jake looked up at his face. Gunner looked grim. Jake took the tablet and read it, silently.

  “Antiope? The baby?”

  “Both safe,” said Gunner. “Prince Adrian as well. But you realize what this means.”

  Jake nodded. “Miranda had no children, and Merope was killed with her.”

  Gunner nodded as well. “Antiope has been declared Empress.” Gunner reached for the tablet, paged it, and handed it back to Jake. “She sent you a private message.”

  Jake read the tablet, then bowed his head. “Where did you get this?”

  “She gave it to Prince Adrian to take to you on Barcam. He gave it to Metrodora, however. Obviously, he has figured out that she can get a message to you.” said Gunner.

  Jake looked up quickly. “Do we need to pull Metrodora out?”

  Gunner grinned. “I don’t think so. Her and Prince Adrian are getting married.”

  “Damn,” said Jake. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

  Gunner laughed. “I guess we need to send a replacement Station Chief to Aronte to take her place.”

  “I’d say so,” said Jake.

  Gunner got serious. “So, what about Antiope’s message?”

  Jake sighed. “She says she can’t tolerate this kind of terrorism. She has to destroy the rebels before she can work to bring about reforms to her society. She’s ordered an all-out attack on the Fringe. She hopes I’ll understand.”

  Gunner shook his head. “There goes any hope of a quick alliance.”

  “Exactly,” said Jake. “Who knows how many years it will take for this to be over? And the path Antiope has chosen is not one I think will lead to a quick resolution.”

  He handed the tablet back to Gunner. “Thanks for bringing me the good news, Gunner,” he said. Gunner grimaced, took the tablet and left.

  Jake pondered the future. Clearly Antiope was going to re-join the fight against the rebels in the Fringe. Knowing her, he thought it would be a long and bloody war. Miranda had been soft, vacillating, afraid to really commit to an all-out attack on the Fringe Planets. Antiope was hard as nails and there wasn’t an ounce of fear in her. Where this would go with her, he could not predict.

  Jake sighed and turned back to his bunk. It was a long way home. And it appeared he had not yet discovered the secret to an alliance with the Aeolians. Humanity would have to wait until Antiope had suppressed the rebels – or enough blood was shed to change her mind – before any realistic alliance was possible. Or until the RDF had enough starships to take on the Aeolians toe-to-toe and win.

  Epilogue

  22 Years Later…

  15 November 2163

  Beehive Cluster - Planet Aeolis

  City of Aronte

  The funeral procession slow-marched through the city, starting from the Temple of Artemis down to the Riverfront. The Empress Antiope had lain in state for three days, while the people of the Empire moved slowly past, gazing at the face of one of the most loved, and most hated, of the Empire’s rulers. Antiope had fought a long and bitter war with the rebels of the Fringe, killing hundreds of thousands in her zeal to bring the Rebellion to a close and reunite the Empire. The Great Raid of 2163 – the largest raid on the central planets since 2141 - had brought death to the Empress who was called a butcher by some, and a savior by others.

  After lying in state, the ornate casket had been placed on a caisson and driven, as slowly as the horses were willing to move, down the hill from the Temple to the Thermodon River, and from there by an ancient road to the cemetery of the Amazons, at the top of a hill five miles from the city gate. The roads were lined with people, shoulder to shoulder. As the caisson passed by, most cried. Some few cheered, but not too loudly - the Palace Guards were close by and were quick to anger in this time of grief. At the end of the road, the Guards carefully moved the casket into the tholos reserved for Antiope and departed, leaving her in the care of the female members of her clan. Placing her sword, bow and arrows, and her golden girdle around the casket in the proper places, her daughters Hippolyta and Deinomache unsealed the casket, checked that the golden obol on her lips and the golden tablet containing a greeting to the ruler of the Underworld were still in their proper places, then re-sealed it. Then, using a knife, they cut ragged locks of their hair and laid them on the top of the casket. They sprinkled libations around the tholos, left an offering of food and wine, and watched as the tholos was closed and locked. In older times, the horses would have been
killed and left in the grave as a sacrifice, but modern customs prevented that. Hippolyta left immediately to take care of affairs of state – as the new Empress, her duties had already begun – but Deinomache stayed a long while, sitting on a small marble bench in the cemetery, holding flowers in her hand and staring at the sunset.

  ***

  Twelve months later, a man appeared at the top of a small rise by the cemetery, walking from town. He wore clothing like that of a Palace Guard, but without any insignia. His sword was held in an old scabbard, gone black from years of oiling and use. His head was covered by a cowl. Approaching the cemetery, he stopped and stared, remembering. Finally, he opened the gate and entered, walking to the guardhouse and presenting a pass to the guards. After some discussion, two guards led him to Antiope’s tholos, and opened the outer and inner gates for him. They positioned themselves just inside the inner gate where they could watch him carefully as he moved forward into the dark tomb.

  The man crossed the space to the bier. He knelt and following a tradition more than three thousand years old, took out his sword and painfully cut a large lock of hair from his head, laying the strands lovingly on the casket. Taking wine from his pouch, he poured a libation and speaking in Aeolian, said the Prayer for the Dead. Then he sat for a long while, communing with ghosts. At the end, he rose and spoke softly. “I remembered, dear.”

  Turning away, he left slowly, the guards carefully closing the inner and outer gates behind him. He saluted the guards as he departed and started walking back toward Aronte, five miles away.

  Preview of Book 2

  IMPRINT OF WAR

  1 Dirge

  AEN Nemesis – was a destroyer of the Aeolian Empire Navy (AEN) named after the ancient Greek god of retribution. Nemesis was laid down on 6 May 2181 at Nyx Shipyards on Aeolis and was launched on 25 March 2182. After additional outfitting, she was commissioned on 27 October 2182, Princess-Captain Hecate Aronte in command.

  - RimWiki, 2675 Edition

  12 March 2185 - 63 Years after Pandora

  City of Aronte

  The shuttle settled slowly to the ground, and with a hissing release of vapor the engines spooled down. On the pad in front of the hatch, an honor guard of Aeolian Marines stood, their brass and braid glittering in the sun. The hatch extended; the Sergeant barked, "Present...arms!" Gracefully, the honor guard's rifles moved to the formal position.

  Standing to one side, Princess-Captain Hecate Andromache Aronte waited. She was a tall, well-muscled woman of twenty-seven, showing none of the dissipation so common among the Aeolian nobility. Her hair was cut short, so that it didn’t show beneath her dress cap. Her uniform, the white formal dress of a serving Fleet officer, was immaculate in the late afternoon sun. The medals on her breast showed she was no desk commander. They included the Star of Aronte, given to officers who have captured or destroyed an enemy ship, and the Blood Mark, from a wound taken in combat.

  In the hatch, eight Marines appeared, shouldering a coffin covered with the flag of the House Aronte. In somber unison, they slow-marched off the shuttle with her father's body. Hecate lifted her hand to her left shoulder in the Naval salute and held it.

  Behind Hecate, shielded from the afternoon sun by a pavilion, stood Hecate's aunt - Hippolyta Lysippe Aronte, Empress of the Aeolian Empire, Protector of the Faith, Guardian of the Relics and Bow, and High Priestess of the Golden Temple. Beside her stood her daughter, Kantilla, the Princess Imperial. On Hippolyta’s other side – and slightly behind – was Hecate's mother, Princess Deinomache, her face like stone. And behind them were arrayed the rest of the Imperial Family. Separated by a barricade and hundreds of guards, thousands of commoners stood behind, silent except for occasional murmurs.

  Well in front of the pavilion and the lines of bodyguards, Hecate stood alone, facing the coffin that carried the body of her father, Prince Alexander. “I will not cry,” she thought. “I will not cry. He wouldn’t stand for it!” But despite herself, a small tear moved slowly down her cheek. The sun, on such a clear day, burned hot against the fabric of her uniform. Hecate gritted her teeth to stop the tears.

  A muffled sobbing came from the crowd behind the ropes. Slow-marching, the Marine escort carried the coffin to a caisson pulled by four black horses. Gently they laid it down. With a soft command, they stepped back and saluted. The Naval Band began a bagpipe dirge. Hecate marched forward to the coffin and placed her palms flat on the top, bowing her head. And there she stayed, minute after minute. Her lips moved slightly as she said the Prayer for the Dead. Finally, as the watching crowd stood in silence, she took a step back; and resuming her military bearing, stood rigidly as the caisson was drawn away.

  After many minutes, behind her she heard movement as the Imperial party turned and made their departure, followed by the thousands who turned out to see a dead Prince brought back from space. But still Hecate stayed, fixed in her grief, eyes closed against the sun setting in the East.

  ***

  Three days later, in the sensorium, a half-dozen ranking officers gathered. Hecate sat at the end of the table, waiting impatiently, her fingers tapping. Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Maya Aronte leaned forward.

  "Princess-Captain, are you sure you want to go through with this? It will be difficult..."

  Hecate stared at her stonily. "I am ready, Mum. Please proceed."

  Maya sighed. "Very well." She signaled silently via her AI.

  A second later, the room disappeared as the invisible comms embedded in their heads, manifested by a small blue bead glowing on their left temples, created a virtual space around them. All found themselves on the bridge of a small corvette. The scene was viewed from the front right of the bridge, with the Captain directly in view. Prince Alexander, Hecate’s father, sat to the left side of the Captain. In the center of the bridge was a 3D tactical holotank. Officers and crew sat at their stations in a circle around the holo, consoles in front of them. Prominent in the holo was a starship. It was wedge-shaped, with striations down the sides and cross-hatching on the top. A dull matte black, it showed no obvious weapons or sensors. It was running hard, dead away from them.

  "They're still accelerating," said the Captain. "Hail them again."

  "Aye, sir." said the Comm Officer. She touched her screen and spoke.

  "Unknown ship near Ptolema, please talk to us. We will not harm you; we only wish to speak with you. We are a research vessel, not a warship. We only wish to communicate with you."

  They paused, watching. There was no change in aspect. The black ship continued to run.

  The Captain spoke again: "No chance of catching them, Tac?"

  "No, Mum. They are quite a bit faster than us in 3-space. They mean to make the mass limit and sink out."

  "Yes," said Prince Alexander. "But why? Why won't they talk to us?"

  "Sir, I've never seen a ship like that. Nothing in the Empire looks like that," said the Captain. "But we'll never catch her."

  The Tactical Officer suddenly jumped in her seat. "Aspect change! Mum! She's coming about!"

  "What?" asked the Captain. "Why?"

  In the holotank, the black ship ceased acceleration and spun back toward them. As her nose came around to bear, pale blue fire came from a beamer. There was a flash - and the bridge disappeared in fire and screaming.

  Hecate sat frozen. Maya stood up and walked to her. She placed her hand on Hecate's shoulder. "We'll find them, Hecate," she said. "I promise you - we'll find them."

  Hecate looked at her steadily. "No, Admiral," she said. "I'll find them. And then I'll kill them."

  An hour later, in Maya’s office, Hecate slammed her palm against the arm of the chair. "No!"

  "Please, Hecate!" said Maya. "You are a destroyer captain! How could I give you a frigate? Tell me - how?"

  Hecate bared her teeth. "Tell Command exactly what I'm going to do...which is track down the bitches who killed my father and tear them to shreds. But I need a frigate! You saw the size of that...that...Black
Ship! It's at least a frigate! If I go out there with a destroyer, I'm hopelessly outgunned!"

  Maya sighed. "It's a good thing we're cousins, dear. I could not tolerate this kind of outburst from just any destroyer captain, you know."

  Hecate shook her head. "Maya, you know I would not take advantage of my position under normal circumstances. Have I ever done that before? In my entire career? You know that I've stuck to the standard officer track. But this is different...this is family! This was my father!"

  Maya shook her head. "Hecate. I want to help. But I can't give you a frigate."

  Hecate rose from her chair. "Then I'll go with a destroyer."

  Maya pointed a finger. "Hecate, don't make me pull rank on you. You can't go without orders. I already have a full task force out at Ptolema looking for this so-called 'Black Ship'. You need to stay here and let them do their job."

  "Maya, I'm going. If you can't cut me orders to go - as much as I would hate it, I would have to ask my mother to help. And she'll ask Auntie..."

  "Oh, Hecate," sighed Maya. "For Stars' sake, let's not get Auntie Empress involved. You know that never ends well. And remember - she hates the Earther myth! She warned your father to give it up, not to go out there looking for ghosts..."

  Hecate grimaced. "Maya, that was his dream...to find some evidence of the ones that went before. Earthers, or whatever the legends say. He died for that dream. And he found something, all right. Some kind of ship we've never seen before. I'm going, with your help or with Auntie's..."

  Maya surrendered, throwing up her hands. "OK, OK, already. I'll cut you orders to go help in the search for the...whatever...Black Ship. But...and I mean this...you are limited to six weeks. Back here in six weeks, regardless. Got it?"

  Hecate nodded. "Aye, Aye, Mum."

  "Good," said Maya. "Now...get the hell out of here!"

  Hecate stood to attention and saluted. With a smart turn, she left the office.

  Outside, her Executive Officer, Commander Andrea Iona Satra, waited for her in the hallway. "Well?" she asked, “Did we get a frigate?"