The Barbarian Bride (The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire Book 3)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Marius,” she said, hoping she could get through to him one final time, “what would Tobias think of this?”

  Marius whirled around and lunged at her, his hand coming down and grasping her neck, threatening to choke the life out of her. Tiffany tried to struggle free, but the restraints were too strong. She gasped, fighting for breath, as his grip tightened, unable to avoid staring up into his maddened eyes. He’d kill her with his bare hands...

  “Don’t mention his name,” he snarled, as he let go. Tiffany wanted to rub her aching throat, but she couldn’t move. “Don’t you fucking mention his name!”

  He stepped backwards, angrily, but when he spoke his voice was almost calm. “I haven’t decided what’s to happen to you yet,” he said. “But I assure you that you will never be in a position to cause any more harm.”

  Tiffany watched, helplessly, as he strode through the hatch and out into the corridor, leaving her alone. She tested the restraints, once again, but no matter what she did she couldn’t pull free. At least the hostages were free, she reminded herself, even though it had been no part of her plan to remain behind. Whatever happened now...

  She closed her eyes as the darkness rose up again, threatening to overwhelm her. Part of her wanted to remain awake, but she knew there was no point. Deep inside, she knew she had come to the end of the line.

  * * *

  Marius poured himself a glass of whiskey and swallowed it in one gulp, then poured himself another glass as he sat down on the sofa in his office. He hadn’t been able to go back to his suite, not when it held far too many reminders of Tiffany... it was hard, so hard, to keep the anger under control whenever he remembered his wife. The final betrayal... and, perhaps, the one that hurt the most. He’d trusted Tiffany, even though she was from an aristocratic family. He’d even left Earth in her care when he’d gone to Nova Athena...

  And maybe that is why there were so many problems, he thought, as he stared at the golden liquid. Tiffany was sabotaging me all along.

  He scowled as all the pieces fell into place. Her clingy insistence on being close to him, her determination to make love every day... she’d been keeping him away from his work and ensuring the Federation would collapse into ruin. And she’d insisted on coming with him to Tara Prime purely to ensure that Admiral Vincent’s plan to betray him succeeded. At least that bastard was dead, along with his homeworld and maybe even his family. It wasn’t what he’d wanted to do to Admiral Vincent, but it would have to do. One of the betrayers had paid with his life — and the lives of everyone he’d ever cared about.

  And Tiffany will pay too, he thought. How many times had she been next to him, curled up beside him in bed? Had she been betraying him all along? She could have been Blake Raistlin’s handler, the one who passed the order to assassinate Marius before he could turn into a threat. Did she only want power for herself or for her family?

  He looked up as the doorbell chimed. For a moment, he considered merely ignoring it — there shouldn’t be any problems Captain Watson couldn’t handle before they reached the Gateway — but duty overrode the temptation to just sit in his suite and wallow. He snapped out a command and the hatch hissed open, revealing Ginny Lewis. Marius glared at her, then felt an odd flicker of shame as she flinched. Ginny, at least, had never betrayed him. She’d merely done her duty.

  “Come in,” he grunted. “Sit.”

  Ginny obeyed, looking nervous. Her uniform looked rumpled too, something that puzzled Marius until he remembered that he’d ordered the Blackshirts to search everyone who wanted to enter his office. No doubt Ginny had been groped quite thoroughly before she’d been allowed through the first checkpoint. If she’d been carrying anything that might have been a weapon, they’d have carted her off to the brig before she could say a word in protest.

  “We just transited into the Howarth System, sir,” Ginny said. “They know.”

  Marius looked at her. “Know what?”

  “That Tara Prime has been destroyed,” Ginny said. “And that we did it.”

  “Someone must have sent a message,” Marius muttered. It wasn’t impossible, even though he’d tried to keep a lid on the Macaque Point. Someone — probably someone still working for Admiral Vincent — would have snapped a courier drone through the Asimov Point and the secret would be out and spreading. “What do they know?”

  “That we destroyed Tara Prime,” Ginny said. “There was no attempt to bar us from entering the system, but they’re clearly ready to engage if we try to approach the planet.”

  Marius considered, briefly, turning to flatten the planet’s defenses, just to make it clear that resistance to legitimate authority was futile, before dismissing the thought. They had to return to Earth. God alone knew what problems General Thorne was facing, thanks to Tiffany and whatever remained of the Brotherhood. Howarth wasn’t important, particularly not when an Outsider fleet was breathing down his neck. There would be time to teach the planet a lesson later.

  “We proceed to the system limits,” he said. “Do you have an updated status report?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ginny said. “We have barely two active squadrons of superdreadnaughts and flanking units. It will take at least two months, according to the engineers, to fix the damaged ships.”

  Marius breathed a curse. He’d taken seven squadrons of superdreadnaughts to Tara Prime, but losses had been heavy. Admiral Vincent’s attack, at point-blank range, had done almost as much damage as the rebels, in far less time. He’d paid for it, but still...

  “We need to return to Earth,” he said. “Has word gone ahead of us?”

  “Probably, sir,” Ginny said. “If a ship happened to be leaving Howarth for Maidstone...”

  “Then the Gateway defenders may know,” Marius snarled. He’d picked the officers in command carefully, but he knew just how quickly a mind could turn to treachery. He certainly hadn’t suspected Tiffany until it was far too late. “And they may try to bar our passage back to Earth.”

  Ginny blanched. “They wouldn’t...”

  “They might,” Marius said. Her naiveté would have been amusing, if it hadn’t been so serious. It was easy to forget she’d only been in the navy for five years. “And Home Fleet has been badly weakened.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “And I never suspected Tiffany,” he added. “Who knows what she might have done to the fortresses?”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Ginny said.

  Marius shook his head. “Inform Captain Watson that he is to maintain our best possible speed towards Earth,” he ordered. “And then start going through the reports from the tactical analysts. I’ll want your analysis this evening.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ginny said. She rose. “And I’m sorry about your wife, sir...”

  “Do your duty,” Marius growled, too tired to be angry. He wanted to sleep, but he wasn’t sure he dared. “And don’t come back until this evening.”

  “Aye, sir,” Ginny said.

  Marius watched her go, feeling only a trace of guilt for admiring her buttocks in her tight uniform. Ginny was too young, too innocent, to be treacherous — and she was a navy brat, not an entitled officer who happened to be related to a Grand Senator. She’d be a better wife than Tiffany, he was sure, but he had no time to consider remarrying. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by sex when there was too much else to do.

  He yawned, then leaned backwards onto the sofa. Perhaps he’d take a very short nap...

  * * *

  Ginny couldn’t help feeling, as the hatch hissed closed behind her, that she’d just escaped by the skin of her teeth. The Emperor had looked a mess, his face purple and his hands twitching constantly... Ginny had no idea what he’d been drinking, or if he’d been taking more of those damnable pills, but he was clearly in a state. He needed a long rest and detoxification, not more stress...

  And he doesn’t suspect me, she thought, as the Blackshirts closed in. If he did, I’d be dead by now.

  “Arms and legs apa
rt, then stand still,” the lead Blackshirt ordered. Ginny had no idea where the Emperor — or General Thorne — had found them, but the Blackshirts seemed to enjoy harassing crewmen, male as well as female. There was no logic in searching her after she’d left the Emperor’s office, yet they didn’t let that stop them. “Let’s see what you’re hiding.”

  She gritted her teeth as they ran their hands over her body, lingering over her breasts and buttocks, before finally sending her on her way with a casual slap to her behind. Their touch made her feel dirty; she’d endured searches before, back in the academy, but they’d never been so thoroughly vile. It didn’t seem to have occurred to the Emperor, or General Thorne either, that the Blackshirts would probably wind up provoking a mutiny. Their predecessors had certainly done the same thing, back before the Grand Senate had fallen.

  They’re not doing it because they’re searching for guns or bombs, she thought. They’re doing it to make it clear they’re in charge.

  Captain Watson turned to face her as she stepped onto the bridge, an odd look of respect in his eyes. He outranked her, but she was the Emperor’s tactical aide. A word from her in the emperor’s ears, when he was in a receptive mood, might put an end to the captain’s career. She felt a flicker of sympathy for the man, but pushed it aside. Captain Watson had sat on the bridge and done nothing while the Emperor killed an entire world.

  “The Emperor wants you to proceed to the Gateway as fast as possible,” she said. “And he wants to keep the entire fleet in lockdown.”

  He didn’t look surprised, she noted, but the orders wouldn’t be particularly surprising. It wasn’t as if they could make a stand before the Gateway. Maidstone had some defenses, but they were largely emplaced around the planet itself, rather than the Asimov Point.

  “As the Emperor commands,” Captain Watson said. “When will he grace us with his presence?”

  Ginny hoped that was sarcasm. The Emperor, she’d learned, had little patience for flattery, let alone senior officers fighting over who had the right to kiss his buttocks. But Captain Watson hadn’t survived so long without a sense for who best to flatter and who best to cut dead. His career certainly hadn’t been based on tactical acumen.

  “He has much work to do,” she temporized. Captain Watson could be relied upon to carry out his orders and little else. There certainly wouldn’t be any unexpected surprises from him. “I believe he feels that matters can be safely left in your hands.”

  She saluted, then walked back through the hatch and into the tactical compartment. The analysts were still hard at work, assessing every last moment of the engagement. Ginny picked up a datapad, downloaded a copy of the raw data, and started to go through it personally. It would take time, but she knew the Emperor wanted her assessment...

  ... And, while she worked, she contemplated ways to betray him.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  And, because of the Emperor’s clear madness, those who would have been his allies chose to turn on him.

  —The Federation Navy in Retrospect, 4199

  Macaque, 4102

  “We’re picking up a signal from the planet, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said. “They want to surrender.”

  Roman lifted his eyebrows. The fleet had only transited the Asimov Point a few scant hours ago — indeed, Macaque must have decided to surrender within seconds of receiving the news, although the defenses surrounding the Asimov Point hadn’t put up a fight. It looked, very much, as though the system had heard what had happened to Tara Prime and wanted to switch sides. By now, five days after an entire planet died, word had to be spreading through the Core Worlds.

  “Inform them that we accept their surrender and will be taking possession of the defenses of the Howarth Point,” he ordered. “If they have any warships, they are to be handed over; everything else can remain with them until we figure out the shape of the post-war galaxy.”

  “Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said.

  Roman nodded, and turned his attention to the display. Howarth’s Asimov Points had never been heavily fortified, not when the system’s only real attraction was being too close to Maidstone in realspace; they shouldn’t have any difficulty breaking into the system and setting course for the system limits. Howarth itself was quite heavily defended, but Roman had no intention of attacking the planet. Like Macaque, the defenders could be safely left alone until the war was over.

  Unless we happen to need something from them, he thought. But what is there that we need?

  He frowned in contemplation. The latest update, secured from Tara Prime, insisted that the defenses of AlphaCent and the Gateway itself had been heavily updated, which was no surprise; the only real question was just how loyal those defenses would be to the Emperor. AlphaCent was perhaps the most loyal planet in the galaxy, at least to the Grand Senate, but would even they turn on a rogue Emperor? Or would they fight to keep his ships from entering the system?

  They’ll certainly know we’ve entered the Maidstone System, he reminded himself. And by now, the Emperor might well have had a chance to make sure that any weaklings are removed from power before it’s too late.

  He pushed the thought aside. He’d just have to see what happened when the fleet reached the system.

  “Ask Senator Li and General Stuart if we can have a private chat after the diplomatic dinner,” he ordered, instead. One advantage of holding Tara Prime, quite apart from the chance to resupply, was making contact with a number of worlds that weren’t quite Core Worlds, but were certainly important enough to be worth courting. A number of diplomats had insisted on accompanying the fleet. “We have much to discuss.”

  “Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Thompson said.

  * * *

  Uzi had honestly expected to die when the superdreadnaught had lumbered into Tara Prime... and straight into a trap. He’d thought himself prepared to make certain Chang Li, if no one else, didn’t survive, only to recoil in horror as Admiral Vincent turned his coat for the second time and threw victory to Admiral Garibaldi. The destruction of Tara Prime didn’t bother him, no matter how many times he’d faked crocodile tears for his comrades, but losing the battle the loyalists should have won nagged at him.

  And now, utter disaster was staring the Federation in the face.

  Macaque’s surrender was a minor matter, but the arrival of diplomats from a dozen other worlds was far more serious. Some of them would have been primed by Admiral Vincent, he thought; others, perhaps the ones from richer worlds, had come on their own. And by choosing to throw their weight behind the rebels, they made Admiral Garibaldi’s momentum almost unstoppable. Even if the fleet was destroyed, and it was still possible, the Federation was doomed. The Outsiders would win.

  “It’s a wonderful time,” Cleo said, hugging him as they made their way back to their shared cabin. “Everything is finally falling into place.”

  “I suppose,” Uzi mumbled.

  He was barely paying attention to her as he contemplated the problem. Something would have to be done. He’d been out of place to assassinate either Chang Li or Admiral Garibaldi — and he’d received no orders — but his overall briefing included permission to act on his own initiative if there was no other option... and he saw none.

  What should he do? Wait until the fleet hit the Gateway? Even if the Gateway held, even if the fleet died, it wasn’t likely that the Federation could be restored.

  No. The twin problems of Admiral Garibaldi and Senator Li had to be resolved as soon as possible.

  “There’s going to be a larger meeting tonight, after dinner,” Cleo said. “Will you be attending?”

  “I think I’ll be on the outside,” Uzi said. The idea of having a dinner that included junior officers was alien to him, at least when the junior officers were commoners, but the Outsiders were ruthlessly meritocratic. Besides, he had to admit it was a good way to gauge crew morale. “I’m a bodyguard, not her advisor.”

  Cleo glanced at him as she opened the hatch. “Don’t you ever get a
sked for advice?”

  Uzi shrugged. “What sort of advice could I give?”

  He eyed Cleo’s back, silently contemplating the most efficient way to kill her. She couldn’t be allowed to sound the alert, not when he was going to be organizing his weapons for the assassination attempt. Playing with her had been fun, even if she had become annoyingly clingy, but time was now up.

  “We do have time for some fun,” he said, as he stepped up behind her. “And now...”

  He pressed one hand over her mouth, using the other to snap her neck. She grunted in surprise, then went limp. Uzi held her in place until he was sure the life had drained out of her body, just in case she had some enhancements she’d never mentioned. Once he was sure, he placed her body in the corner of the tiny cabin, covered it with the blanket and opened his bag. One definite advantage to working along the Rim, or with the Outsiders, was that no one ever questioned why anyone would want to carry a small arsenal. You never knew when you might have to fight.

  There was no time for a real plan, he told himself, as he removed a handful of explosive packs and buried them under his uniform. He’d have to cause an emergency, then take advantage of the chaos to carry out his mission. Survival was very unlikely — after Admiral Vincent’s bastards had escaped, Admiral Garibaldi would have learned from the Emperor’s mistake and the courier boats and shuttles would be guarded — but he’d just have to take his chances.

  And no one will ever know what I did, he thought. He remembered, morbidly, just how much he’d done in the name of the Federation. But perhaps that’s for the best.

  * * *

  “It could have gone worse,” Chang Li said, as she entered the small dining room and sat down next to Admiral Garibaldi. “They want independence, rather than membership in a new federation.”

  “You may find that it’s impossible to convince them to slip all the way to join you,” Garibaldi commented. “They’re the ones who watched in horror as Tara Prime died.”