“Ah,” Hon Ra said. “That is much better. You are indeed the great war-leader. Now, it is time to put these two quarreling banner chiefs in their place.”
-4-
Ten hours later, a heavy shuttle from each banner-led bombard departed the warship and headed for the Nathan Graham.
The two uneven halves of the Roke fleet were on either side of the human cybership-class vessels. That had been a preliminary precaution, one approved by Hon Ra several weeks ago.
In this case, so that Jon did not accidently show any preference of one over the other, each shuttle landed in the same hangar bay at precisely the same time.
For the occasion, Jon had brought a large assembly of space marines in battle armor. The Centurion led them, and the armored marines stood in rows upon rows on the hangar bay deck.
The two heavy shuttles landed. The barrier between the space marines and the shuttles went up as soon as the main hangar bay door closed.
Much as it had happened in the Roke System several years ago, a ladder descended from each shuttle. Huge, bear-like aliens in ceremonial bronze chest-plates and with bronze helmets waving with feathers climbed down to the deck.
One group had black capes. Each of the Warrior Roke in that group carried a massive two-headed battle-axe with a chip in one of the curved blades. The other group wore red capes. Each red-cloaked Warrior carried a long sword, gripping the handle with two furry hands.
The two groups paused as the leader of each banner glanced at his hereditary enemy.
Gloria leaned near Jon and asked in a whisper, “Do you think Toper Glen sent two opposing sides as a test for us?”
“Maybe,” Jon said.
Standing near Jon, Hon Ra held a bronze staff, and he banged the end against a deck plate.
This obviously meant something to the two Roke groups. They each marched toward Jon, Gloria and Hon Ra, who stood a little before the Centurion in front of the massed space marines.
Something about the way the Roke Warriors marched toward them bothered Jon. Why had Toper Glen sent two banners that hated each other? This had to be a test. But Jon was sick of tests. Maybe the tension these past years had taken a toll on his patience. Suddenly, Jon had had enough. Someone on the Roke side was playing games. Or did he have another secret enemy like Frank Benz?
Jon turned back to the Centurion, who stood in a two-ton battle suit. “Make a noise,” he said. “Make a loud noise.”
The Centurion obliged, raising a heavy assault rifle and letting several rounds rip. Hon Ra ducked his head and clapped his hands over his ears. Meanwhile, the slugs tore into a nearby heating unit, smashing holes in it.
The two banner-led Warriors of Roke in ceremonial garb halted at the sound.
“Follow me,” Jon told the Centurion. Then Jon marched toward the Roke groups.
Belatedly, Hon Ra hurried after Jon and the battle-suited Centurion.
The banner chiefs halted in confusion. That ruined the perfect cadence of each group as some Warriors continued marching while others halted. Belatedly, they all stopped and readjusted their ranks.
By that time, Jon had reached the chiefs, Sten Balore of the Long Sword and Kegg Ron of the Chipped Axe. Both were exceptional specimens, hulking giants compared to Jon, but not compared to the two-ton battle armor behind him.
Naturally, Jon had read several papers written by his xenology teams on Roke psychology. He disregarded the united advice as he stared at the furry giants. The X.T. people had advised him to adhere to Roke customs in order to strengthen the bond between them and humans. But here and now Jon wondered if that was the best advice. He was the war leader. He was in charge. Maybe the best way to show the Star Lords of the Roke that was to make it obvious. They could adhere to Earth customs, not the other way around.
To that end, Jon did not greet the two banner chiefs in the accepted manner, but continued to stare at them as miscreant children.
The message must have come through. Both Warriors hunched their massive shoulders. Kegg Ron actually growled like a dog issuing a warning.
Hon Ra finally caught up with Jon and the Centurion.
“I have a question,” Jon said loudly. “Either of you can answer me. I don’t care which of you does.”
“No,” Hon Ra whispered. “That is not correct protocol, warlord.”
By this time, Kegg Ron’s growling had increased.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jon asked.
Kegg Ron stopped growling as he looked at Hon Ra, the linguist for the two species.
Hon Ra growled Roke words at the much larger Kegg Ron. Kegg’s axe twitched in his two-handed grip. A moment later, the banner chief growled at Jon in a modulated way.
Hon Ra turned to the human. “Kegg Ron of the Chipped Axe says—”
“Are you listening to me?” Jon asked Hon Ra, interrupting the ambassador.
The big bear-alien stopped talking and tilted his head. “You interrupted me,” Hon Ra said.
“That’s right,” Jon said. “I did.”
“You dishonor me by such an action,” Hon Ra said.
“Just like you and those two boors are dishonoring me,” Jon said.
Hon Ra appeared confused.
“I run this fleet,” Jon said, slapping a hand against his chest. “What’s more, I expect obedience from my soldiers. That includes the Warriors of Roke because they have joined my crusade against the machines.”
“That is not our way,” Hon Ra said.
“That’s too bad for you,” Jon said. “It’s my way. If you can’t obey my orders, I’ll have my executioner kill you. Not you, Hon Ra, but either of those two troublemakers.”
“You cannot say that to them,” Hon Ra said.
“Who rules here?” Jon asked. “You or me?”
“You,” Hon Ra said slowly.
“So I can say what I want to say.”
“You will dishonor them if you do this.”
“They have dishonored me, Ambassador. This is my fleet. I am the war leader. We came here to face the machines. I will have order in my fleet or I will kill one or both of them because they have brought disorder. Ask which of them submits to my leadership?”
Hon Ra hesitated.
“Ask them, Ambassador,” Jon said.
Reluctantly, the Roke ambassador spoke in low growls to the two Warriors.
The two stood in shock, before Kegg Ron began growling like a dog, but this time low under his breath.
Jon didn’t need an ambassador to tell him the Roke was angry and insulting him. This could mean trouble, but Jon made a decision at that moment. He wasn’t going to get himself killed trying to mollycoddle aliens using their methods.
Sten Galore of the Long Sword spoke to Hon Ra. Finally, the ambassador nodded and turned to Jon.
“Sten Galore has insisted I tell you that he is insulted by your words, as you are speaking to him as if he is a servant. He demands an honor duel against you.”
“Fine,” Jon said. “Tell him I accept. We will duel with blasters.”
“Blasters?” asked Hon Ra.
Jon padded the gun holstered at his side.
“That is not an honorable weapon,” Hon Ra said.
“He can either take it or leave it. Tell him that.”
Reluctantly, Hon Ra spoke to the Long Sword chief.
The two chiefs glanced at each other, and it seemed as if a spark energized both of them. In unison, they roared, shaking their weapons at Jon. As one, they leapt at him, swinging to kill.
Jon went to one knee, fast drew the blaster and beamed the first Roke in the chest. That caused smoke to billow from the bronze armor but did nothing to stop the Warrior.
Then, heavy chugging rounds hit the two as the Centurion mowed them down with heavy assault-rifle fire. The gunshots boomed against Jon’s ears even as he eyed the two spinning and then dead banner chiefs twitching on the deck.
The Warriors from both banners—the two groups—looked in shock at the scene.
&nb
sp; Jon acted on instinct as he stood up. He made a show of holstering his blaster and marching past the dead banner chiefs and toward the remaining Roke groups. He motioned the Centurion to stay back. Then, Jon continued alone toward the growling, weapon-shaking crowd of Roke Warriors.
Belatedly, Hon Ra ran to catch up with him.
Jon reached the two angry groups and halted before them, putting his hands on his hips. He scanned the towering, furry Warriors and knew he could die at any second.
“This is my ship,” he said.
Hon Ra spoke as the ambassador once again stood just behind Jon.
A hush fell over the two groups in order to hear the panting ambassador.
“Sten Galore challenged me to a duel,” Jon said. “I accepted and told him the weapons. He did not like my choice. Thus, he and Kegg Ron dishonorably charged me.”
Jon waited as Hon Ra told the Warriors what he’d just said.
“I am the war leader,” Jon said. “You swore oaths to fight with me. I helped Toper Glen defeat the machines that would have annihilated your world. Will you pay me back for that deed by acting like children? Or will you fight in the ways I will teach you so you can win?”
Once again, Hon Ra interpreted the words.
The Warriors of Roke stood silently after the ambassador had finished speaking.
“I am the great victor,” Jon said, slapping his chest again. “I am the great war leader. Either follow me to victory against the machines or show the galaxy that you are faithless curs not worthy of my time.”
Hon Ra cleared his throat.
“Tell them that,” Jon said, without turning around.
“You will goad them into fury and they will attack you,” the ambassador said.
“Then my space marines will kill them. After that, I will destroy the Roke bombards, as they will have shown that I cannot trust them. I lead this fleet. My word is law. If the Roke Warriors do not accept that, I cannot use them.”
Hon Ra said nothing.
Finally, Jon turned around. The ambassador stared at him in a peculiar way that Jon hadn’t seen before.
“What is it now?” asked Jon.
“You have mighty…how do you say? You have balls, War Leader. I do not know how else to say that in English.”
“No problem,” Jon said. “What you just said works.”
“Despite this, you risk death speaking that way to the bombard captains.”
“Maybe,” Jon said.
“But I will speak your words. Perhaps…perhaps your way of fighting is better. It did defeat the machines. I will say the words, Jon Hawkins.”
There were no growls or threatening gestures from the listening Warriors of Roke as Hon Ra repeated Jon’s words.
Finally, Hon Ra spoke again to the Long Swords and the Chipped Axes. After the ambassador finished, there was dead silence.
Slowly at first, the two groups of bear-like aliens bent on one knee and bowed their heads. They submitted to Jon’s leadership, and shortly thereafter, each group headed back to its respective shuttle.
The shuttles departed and headed back to the bombard flotillas.
Later, Hon Ra asked, “How did you know your way would work?”
Jon smiled grimly. He hadn’t known, but he knew he had to make the Roke fight in an organized manner, willing to obey him instantly or the Confederation was never going to defeat the machines.
In this war, it was going to be all or nothing. Jon had gone for all, and this time, he had gotten it.
Why, then, did Gloria start to suspect Jon’s sanity?
-5-
Gloria grew thoughtful when Bast told her Hon Ra’s account of the confrontation.
The seven-foot Sacerdote spent a considerable amount of time in the ambassador’s company, as the two had become drinking companions.
Bast related the incident as Gloria worked with him on sensor data in a side room off the bridge. They were trying to determine the reason for a strange eddy of currents on the massive Jupiter-like gas giant of Hydri II. The eddies were not like the Red Spot on Jupiter, they were high atmospheric gases that seemed to swirl…weirdly, given the observed wind patterns of the rest of the monster planet.
“I cannot fathom the reason for those currents,” Bast said after several hours of study. He sat back, and it was clear he’d lost interest in trying to figure it out.
“Could it be gravitational effects from the battle station?” Gloria asked.
“Why would a normal-sized station possess such gravitational pull on such a massive gas giant?”
Gloria shrugged.
Bast leaned forward again, pretending to study the data, but his yawns betrayed his disinterest. Gloria chided him, and Bast cocked his head. Shortly thereafter, the Sacerdote related what Hon Ra had told him last night while drinking.
Gloria frowned at Bast’s obvious attempt to get back at her for her rebuke for his disinterest regarding Hydri II’s odd wind patterns.
She only listened with half an ear until she turned and looked at Bast. The Sacerdote did not stop, but spoke with greater relish—at least, that was how it seemed to Gloria.
“I wonder if Jon ever read our assessment about how to approach the Roke Warriors?” Gloria asked. She had helped write those up.
“It does not sound like it.”
“No,” Gloria said softly.
Bast finished the story, crossing his gorilla-like arms over his deep chest.
“I was there,” Gloria said. “I remember. Jon was lucky the Warriors didn’t charge him en masse.”
“Either that, or he’s more astute than any of us credit him. He was right concerning the way to deal with Cog Primus.”
“True,” Gloria said slowly.
Bast eyed her sidelong. “I have read a biography of Alexander the Great.”
“Who?” asked Gloria.
“Have you never heard of the great Earth warlord?”
“Oh,” Gloria said. “Yes. I recall the name. What caused you to read such a thing?”
“I read Frank Benz’s journal,” Bast said. “The premier spoke about this Alexander, how he thought Jon has styled himself after the mighty conqueror.”
“And?” asked Gloria.
“Alexander the Great was the greatest Earth conqueror in antiquity. He achieved great deeds and often guessed exactly the right move to counter an enemy maneuver. Over time, however, Alexander became angrier. He murdered a friend during a drinking bout, taking a spear and driving it through the man who had once saved his life in the middle of battle.”
“How does that relate to Jon?”
“Alexander the Great changed over time,” Bast said. “Heavy drinking and a new suspicious nature marred his former nature. He continued to make impressive battle moves, but he nearly overreached himself at an Indian village. His soldiers wanted to go home. They were tired of years of endless fighting. Here, they did not assault a walled village fast enough for Alexander’s tastes. The impulsive warlord grabbed a shield and charged up a siege ladder, jumping down into the walled town. There, as Alexander and a bodyguard faced a group rush, an enemy soldier stabbed him with a spear, almost killing the Macedonian genius. Finally, Alexander’s soldiers stormed over the wall. In a rage because the enemy had wounded Alexander, they butchered everyone in the town, not leaving anything, including animals, alive.”
“Again, I ask. What does that have to do with Jon?”
“Alexander the Great had become more impulsive. Jon has become more impulsive, more prone to make rash decisions in secret or to suddenly change his mind and move in a new direction.”
Gloria stared off into the distance as she tapped her chin with a forefinger.
“He killed Frank Benz,” Bast said. “He slew an old friend just like Alexander the Great did at a drinking party.”
“Frank had come to kill him,” Gloria said.
“I do not dispute that,” Bast said. “I am simply relating facts. Notice, Jon secretly devised a method to outwit Cog Primus.
Did he tell the rest of us about his choice?”
Gloria shook her head.
“Yesterday, Jon marched on the Roke Warriors and gave them an ultimatum. They might have murdered him. Or the Centurion’s space marines might have murdered all of them. Jon risked the entire Roke alliance, and he did it on a whim.”
“What do his actions mean to you?” Gloria asked quietly.
“Change,” Bast said. “That is not how Jon Hawkins would have acted in the past.”
“His changes, if you’re right, have helped not hurt us.”
“For now,” Bast said. “What happens when Jon makes a terrible decision, and no one has the courage to challenge him?”
Gloria eyed the Sacerdote. “Do you wish to challenge him?”
Bast looked in shock at the small mentalist. “Me? Jon Hawkins saved my life. Whatever I have, I owe to him. Why do you think I am talking to you? You are his mate. You are his closest companion. You must help him, mentalist. You, more than any other, can assess your husband.”
“Behind Jon’s back?” asked Gloria.
“No,” Bast said decisively. “You are his guardian. You must study your husband and make a critical decision. Have the tensions and stresses of high office worn him down? Does he need a rest?”
Gloria studied her hands.
“The fate of more than humanity might well lie in your hands,” Bast said softly. “The fate of the living in this region of the galaxy is going to depend on the human race. Is Jon leading humanity in the right direction?”
Gloria continued to study her hands. She did not say any more to Bast Banbeck, but she determined to carefully study her husband and use her mentalist powers to assess his leadership. After that, what would be her best move?
-6-
Becoming a Martian mentalist had been a grueling and lengthy process and had consumed Gloria’s childhood, teens and early twenties with endless study. Along with the studying, she had to learn a harsh mnemonics system. It meant that Gloria had a near photographic memory.
She went into an exercise room and practiced yoga, stretching and relaxing and emptying her mind of clutter. Once she was ready, Gloria assumed a lotus position and began to run through Jon’s actions since she had met him. She compared that with his present actions.
A.I. Void Ship (The A.I. Series Book 6) Page 7
