“I concur,” nodded Kenesh.
“Now there’s only one major question to tackle.”
“Which is?”
“With whom do you have history: Mr. Nefeh, or Mr. Neleth?”
“Your Highness!” She squared her shoulders and scowled at the Crown Prince of the Empire.
“Don’t tell me...” he started, wading into frightening territory. “It can’t be both of them, surely?”
Kenesh’s death glare turned grimmer still.
“Or else...” Dusanh shivered at his own conjecture. “...Could it be you don’t even know which of them it was?”
“Your Highness, I believe it’s clear from my actions that I have dedicated half of my life to the Star Forces,” she stated, her tone as gentle as her eyes weren’t.
“If anyone doubts your loyalty and devotion, bring them to me and I’ll correct that notion,” he replied.
“Furthermore, I love and respect the Imperial Household.”
“I am pleased to hear that.”
“Therefore, it pains me to no end to have to say this to the Imperial Admiral of the Star Forces and Crown Prince of the Abh, but...”
“Say what?”
“PLEASE, SHUT UP ALREADY!”
Chapter 10: The Donic Léhïacotr (Ceremony of Surrender)
“Surrender? Who’s surrendering?” Neleth blinked.
“The administration of the Aptic Star System,” said Nefeh.
“The administration of the Aptic Star System...” Then it came back to him. “Oh, right, they hadn’t surrendered yet!”
“So you forgot. Not that that’s particularly shocking.”
“Then, Aptic’s gone and filed a notice of surrender?”
“It’s not official yet. But we’ve just intercepted a landworld broadcast. Care to watch?”
“Sure. I love landworld broadcasts; there’s always so much crazy stuff to see out there,” he said, settling into his Commander’s Seat.
Nefeh worked the controls, and a window-screen appeared before Neleth. In that screen spoke an aging Lander male.
“Citizens of the system,” he said, his words dubbed into Abh, “I, Star System Premier Macrit Tallas, have had to make the hardest decision of my life. And though I may have secured the blessings of the cabinet and of Parliament, my sorrow remains great. As you the citizens are already aware, the Imperial Army has urged us to accept their ‘counsel to surrender’ with extremely high-handed vociferousness...”
“Hold on a second!” As soon as Neleth interrupted, the video paused. “‘Counsel to surrender’? Did you ‘counsel’ them?”
“I did not,” said Nefeh, shaking his head.
“Then who?”
“As far as I know, no one. If you counseled them to surrender on your own without telling us, that’d be one thing, but the Star Forces have never formally issued any such thing to the Aptic government.”
“You know it can’t have been me.”
“Yes, I know. You’d never do anything that savvy.”
Neleth growled, but decided to wait a while before retorting. “And what’s this about our ‘high-handedness’?”
“No idea. Who’d urge them to accept a counsel to surrender we never even gave them?”
“You might, Nefeh. When all is said and done, you are a Biboth.”
“Well in your case, Neleth, you might have hectored them, and then forgotten about it afterwards. After all, at the end of the day, you are a Biboth.”
And with that, Neleth’s confidence took a plunge. He checked his journal log on his wristgear, which vouched for the fact that he’d never issued a counsel to surrender, nor impelled them to accept it.
“Looks like it wasn’t me.”
“I know it wasn’t you, Neleth,” Nefeh, strangely softly, after having looked on with a stunned expression as Neleth checked his log. “No one is or would ever seriously doubt you on that. Now, uhh... can we resume watching?”
“Yes. Unpause it.”
Unfrozen, the premier’s body came back to life and the audio returned. “...the United Humankind dispatched a fleet in order to rescue us.”
“Wait, that fleet was there to save the peoples of Aptic?” mumbled Neleth, but this time he refrained from having the video be paused again. “Have we... have we done wrong?”
“Yet sadly, on this day, that fleet’s hard-fought struggle came to no avail, repelled by the interlopers. It is truly unfortunate. And it doesn’t take eyes in the sky to foresee the catastrophic damage that would befall our military should we resist. Citizens, I beg of you!” The Premier began sobbing, overcome with emotion. “It would be easy to simply sit here and continue to hope the United Humankind comes to save us!”
“Hold on, how even could they? Now that the Star Forces have seized the portals, by what means can they even contact the UH capital?” But nobody answered Neleth’s query.
“But you must understand that the UH has a duty to many more star systems across the galaxy! And while this one system is irreplaceable to us, we cannot seriously ask them to bring even more fleets into harm’s way in trying to liberate Aptic. Instead, we should hope for the UH’s overall victory in the war. I, Aptic Star System Premier Macrit Tallas, have come to realize that we have no other choice but to surrender to the Abh Empire. Do note, however, that this is but a momentary ordeal. And I believe we must have faith in that fact, and overcome this tribulation together!”
“Well, if you hate the idea of surrendering that much, why bother!?” said Neleth, biting lightly the knuckle of his index finger. “What say we tell them nobody’s actually issued a counsel to surrender?”
“I don’t know about that. Has it occurred to you that His Excellency the Premier might in fact be lying?”
“Lying? Really?”
“The chances are high. We don’t have any detailed information on that planet, but almost a month has passed since its capture. It’s no wonder if their economy is on the brink of collapse. They might be facing shortages of necessary goods. Which is why I wouldn’t be surprised if they now want to become part of the Empire’s economic sphere. And that would make surrendering quickly an enlightened proposition. They know the Three Nations Alliance won’t be returning to Aptic any time soon. So it’s an exceedingly logically sound move to throw in the towel before their economy collapses in earnest.”
“But then, why invent this ‘counsel to surrender’?”
“Don’t ask me, Neleth. Only, I should remind you that we, too, slightly embellish the truth in matters of commerce. I think it’s a similar phenomenon happening here.”
“I see. Then I can understand where they’re coming from,” said Neleth, convinced. “I bet you that the notice of surrender will be coming from the system administration any time now.”
“I think so, too, so there’s no need to bet on it.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Question, Nefeh: who’ll be the one to receive that notice?”
Nefeh’s eyes went wide. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Tell me, who? No way it’s me, right?”
“Who else could it be besides you?”
“I don’t know — you, maybe,” said Neleth.
“Please, Neleth, give it a rest. Think of how the land peoples would feel if the Chief of Staff takes the place of a Commander-in-Chief in receiving their surrender. They’d think we were belittling them.”
“You, taking the feelings of the land peoples into consideration? I guess miracles do happen. To think you’d spare a thought towards another’s feelings.”
“We Abhs have never much cared what land peoples think of us, but that being said, it’s me who has to listen to their cutting remarks. That’s what I’m concerned about. I don’t know the first thing about His Excellency the Premier. I’m worried that he has jibes so caustic they’re practically works of art in store for me.”
“Of course...” Neleth gave his twin a look of pity. “The Biboth clan doesn’t fit in during formal situations li
ke rituals, and you are the very picture of a Biboth.”
“If you’re confident you aren’t the very picture of a Biboth yourself, then why don’t you hold the surrender ritual yourself?”
Neleth shuddered. He’d much rather be seen as the exemplar of Biboth madness than hold the ritual himself. But he knew Nefeh was in the right. After a while, Neleth came up with a perfect solution.
“Instead of going by Star Forces rank, why don’t we go by whoever’s highest in the imperial hierarchy? There must be a noble who’s higher-ranked than me.”
Upon seeing Nefeh’s eyes go wide once again, a bad feeling beset Neleth.
The Biboth clan was a storied line, but Neleth and Nefeh belonged to a branch named the Aronn Nérémr. The surnym of “Aronn” indicated he had not inherited a star-fief from his parent, but that he was nevertheless a noble, and that his line had been aristocratic since the founding of the Empire. Furthermore, he had only succeeded to the rank of noble prince, which, (along with noble princess), was the lowest rank above that of knight first-class. That being said, since Neleth was also a grand commodore, he had gained the title of “Rüé Dreuc” (Imperial Count). The rank didn’t come with any territory, and only lasted a single generation, but so long as he drew breath, and didn’t cause some unspeakable scandal, he would, at the imperial court, enjoy all of the courtesies a bona fide count received. In other words, if there were no nobles around higher than count in rank, then he was the highest-ranked person in the Aptic Defensive Fleet both in terms of military rank and in terms of the imperial hierarchy.
And counts weren’t exactly a dime a dozen, including in the military.
“There, uhh... There isn’t anybody, is there?” asked Neleth, afraid to hear the answer.
“Worry not. Though I’m as astonished as ever by just how little you know.”
“Then there IS somebody!” It was such welcome news that he didn’t even mind the jab.
“Uh-huh. And she’s no mere noble. She’s an Imperial. Her Highness the Viscountess of Parhynh. In fact, there’s even another Count — His Excellency the Count of Hyde.”
“Count Hyde?” That name rang a bell. “Oh, I remember now. The young man who conquered that landworld alongside Her Highness the Viscountess.”
“The word ‘conquered’ would be a slight embellishment.”
“They say Her Highness the Viscountess took the landworld with a single, solitary lightgun.”
“Tell me, Neleth, is it your information source that’s off-kilter, or your memory? Either way, you’ve taken a departure from reality. There are detailed records of that incident, you know.”
“I have no interest in the truth. The fiction is typically much more entertaining.”
“You’re not wrong... But wait, that’s exactly the attitude that has soured our clan’s reputation.”
“Just think: those two famed figures, under my command,” said Neleth, not paying attention.
“I don’t mind waiting until you have the time on your hands, but please, you simply must teach me the secret behind how you can remain so ignorant as to your own fleet.”
“What would be the point of knowing? What, would I position her someplace safe and implore her not to get hurt?”
“That is a frightening scenario you’ve dreamed up, Neleth.”
“So you see. Whenever a member of that clan thinks they’ve strayed unfairly far from danger, they tend to blow their lid, or at least come close. They appear to regard flinging themselves into the fire as an intrinsic right. That’s why knowing she was in my fleet would have changed nothing. I can’t direct her ship any differently from the others. By the way, which ship is Her Highness aboard?”
“If I recall correctly, her rank is Deca-Commander.” But he couldn’t recall her ship offhand, so he looked it up on his wristgear. “I knew it, she is a Deca-Commander. She was the Captain of the assault ship Basrogrh.”
“What do you mean, ‘was’?”
“The Basrogrh is no more. But Her Highness came out unscathed. Don’t worry; there’s nothing stopping you from making her Rüé Lusagac (Imperial Representative).”
“Then it’s settled. Though if she’s an assault ship captain, her crew is a small one. We’ll have to send an administration officer from Headquarters.”
“That, you just have to get done yourself.”
“Yeah. And we’ll have to make the preparations for the signature venue and the post-signing celebratory feast here at Headquarters too.”
“Right. I’ll handle the arrangements, so don’t fret. I do want your adjutant’s help, though. Can I borrow them for a bit?”
“Sure. I’ll tell them. Actually, I just remembered...”
“What?”
“About the post-signing ‘celebratory’ banquet...”
“Yes, what about it?”
“Well, it’s just that while it’s certainly something to celebrate for us — adding another inhabited planet to the Empire — it’s not for them. So I was wondering if we should still keep the name of the banquet as the ‘celebratory feast.’”
“I and the adjutant will deal with the annoying particulars. But we’ll have Her Highness fill the role of Imperial Representative, and His Excellency the Count of Hyde will serve as Rüé Roïlusagac (Secondary Imperial Representative). As such, Neleth...”
“Yes, Nefeh?”
“The least you can do is give the name of the function a think.”
The first thing the assault ship Basrogrh’s carrycraft did was to hitch alongside the ghasiac (med ship) Carsaic and transfer over all of the casualties. Afterward, they headed toward the base canteen Dacruc, which had been designated the resting camp for crewmembers of destroyed ships. The passenger seating of the carrycraft consisted of individual crystal-ceramic planks with elastic cushiony material affixed to each. They were also equipped with safety belts. Whenever the vessel underwent acceleration, they were just like sleeping bunks to lie down on, and when microgravity held sway inside, it didn’t much matter whether one was sleeping, standing, or sitting.
Lafier was lying relaxed on the foremost seat. Meanwhile, the carrycraft was decelerating, its stern facing Dacruc. Eventually, a small impact shock coursed through the ship, signaling they were accelerating no longer. Sobash, the ship’s pilot, was no slouch at the task.
Now that microgravity had taken effect, she wasted no time releasing the safety belt, drifting into the air, and reporting to Headquarters that they’d arrived through her wristgear. Once she was done delivering the report, she looked up to find the surviving crewmembers staring in her direction.
“All NCCs are permitted to disembark. By my authority as Captain, I grant you 24 hours’ rest. I will inform you of where we will be assembling before the end of the break period, so take it easy until then,” said Lafier, but the cheers were half-hearted. Not only was the crew tired, but many had lost friends and comrades. In fact, aboard a vessel of assault ship size, everyone knew everyone. “The starpilots are to stand by,” she added.
As she watched the NCCs get off the ship, the other starpilots gathered around her. “I can’t authorize a break for you three just yet.”
“That’s a bummer,” said Samson.
“However, as there’s no mission to follow at the moment, I do authorize you to conduct yourselves freely. Just keep in mind that we may have to reassemble on an emergency basis at any time.”
“Well, I guess you’re just being realistic,” Samson shrugged. Then he faced Sobash: “What do you say to a drink celebrating the survivors, Senior Starpilot?”
“I’m all for it, Linewing Starpilot,” grinned Sobash. “But this time, don’t fall asleep on me. I really don’t feel like opening your mouth and making you gulp down a sobriety pill.”
“It won’t come to that, don’t you worry.”
And so the two took their leave.
Come to think of it, thought Lafier, we never drank the rest of Hecto-Commander Atosryua’s apple cider. Oh well. It’s not as t
hough I particularly like apple cider.
Ecryua showed Jint the carrier in her hands. “Can I take him with me? He seems like he could use some exercise.” Needless to say, the carrier’s furry occupant was none other than Dyaho.
“Ah, yeah, sure.” Jint smiled bittersweetly. “Sorry, I’m an irresponsible pet owner.”
“Tell that to the cat.”
“It’s fine; he’s an irresponsible cat, so we deserve each other.”
“Is that so.” And so Ecryua saluted before disembarking.
“What’re you gonna do now, Lafier?” asked Jint.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she said, shaking her head. “What about you?”
“I dunno, what do I do?” Jint cocked his head, and as a result started rotating in midair. Then he grabbed hold of a seat and held his body in place. “Would you care to dine with me, Your Highness?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not really hungry at the moment.”
“Well, there goes that idea. So, what do we do?”
“Don’t be so daft. Just go eat by yourself.”
“Thing is, I’m not that hungry, either.”
“Then why did you invite me for a meal?” she asked, not getting Jint’s intentions at all.
“Don’t trouble yourself over it. From time to time, I just act on a whim,” he sighed.
At that moment, their wristgears beeped, indicating a message was received. Lafier read the freshly sent message. Then, she frowned.
“Me, a ‘Secondary Imperial Representative’!?” squeaked Jint, his voice going funny. He, too, had read his message. “Why have I got to do such stupid...”
“Because you’re under orders. You have no other choice.” Lafier was hardly gung-ho about the idea herself, but she had no right to object. They were now enjoined to accept the Aptic Star System’s surrender on behalf of the Empire.
“But I’m just a Linewing Starpilot. Why would such a big role go to me...?”
“Because you’re also a count, obviously,” said Lafier.
The Ties that Bind Page 18
