by James Evans
White looked at them both, then nodded his acceptance, although it was clear the parade of injured crew and Marines was taking its toll.
“That’s everyone, sir,” said Corn eventually. “And I’ve been over Palmerston. She’s still going to need that refit, but she’ll be fine to fly once we’ve refuelled and resupplied.”
“Good work, Corn,” said Cohen. “And thank you for your efforts. This day would have been a lot worse without your skills as a pilot.”
Corn nodded her appreciation and was about to say more when one of the Prime Minister’s aides appeared.
“Please,” she said with a slight bow of her head, “Prime Minister Haukland would like to see you, if you are available?”
“Of course,” said Cohen, although his face suggested that he really didn’t want to attend another diplomatic function.
“She has promised to keep it short, Commander,” said the aide, perhaps noticing Cohen’s reluctance, “and you need not come alone. Please, follow me.”
Cohen nodded. “Right,” he said quietly, “you three with me, and let’s keep things tight.”
The aide led them to a light rail station where an empty carriage waited for them.
“It is not far,” explained the aide, gesturing for them to board, “but it would be a long walk.”
The train whisked them away, disappearing quickly into a tunnel and accelerating rapidly before slowing to stop at an enclosed station a few minutes later. A short walk through the station and a ride in an elevator brought them to a large chamber that looked out over Child of Starlight’s main bay.
“Commander Cohen, Lieutenant White, Captain Warden and Sub Lieutenant Corn,” said Prime Minister Haukland in heavily accented English, striding forward to greet them with a warm smile on her face. “You have done great service. Thank you.” She gave them a polite bow and led them to the huge windows that looked out across the rainforest that filled this end of the bay.
“English is still a foreign tongue,” she said, slipping apologetically back to Koschite and reactivating her throat mic and automatic translation system. “But we hope to learn more and to build the friendship between our two nations.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister,” said Cohen, dipping his head. “It has been an honour to make your acquaintance and to get to know your people.”
Haukland nodded and looked out over the forest. “This is why we live out here,” she said, gesturing at the trees. “The freedom to build, to grow and to live as we see fit. Only here, amongst the asteroids, can we build like this. This is a special place, Commander, and it would not have survived the attentions of Admiral Tomsk.”
“It is breathtaking,” said Cohen, shaking his head in admiration as he surveyed the forest and the bay beyond. “But I’m afraid Tomsk is not a man to be easily dissuaded. I feel sure he will return, sooner or later.”
“Of course,” agreed Haukland. “Such men are not easily stopped, but our friends within the Koschite government are now alerted to Tomsk’s obsessions and will act to calm the situation. More sober heads will prevail, Commander.”
A small flock of green parakeets squawked noisily across the tree canopy in front of the viewing platform.
“And although it pains me to admit it, we too will now take measures to ensure our safety. The admiral will not find us ill-prepared again, should he return.”
Cohen nodded.
“I think it is time for you to take some rest, Commander,” said Haukland. “I see the weariness on you and, I think, the grief at the loss of Ascendant and your colleagues, even though they may be only temporarily absent.”
Cohen nodded again, too tired to do much more.
“Since you cannot return to Ascendant, and Palmerston is too small to hold you all, we have prepared apartments for you and your people. Ramberg will take you to them and ensure that you have all you need, including the very best medical care we can offer. Tomorrow, or maybe the day after that, we will meet again.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister,” said Cohen.
“Please, this way,” said Ramberg. “The apartments are nearby, and those of your crew who require no further treatment are already there.”
The next day, somewhat restored by a solid night’s sleep, Cohen summoned his team to the communal area at the centre of the suite of apartments that the Valkyr had provided. One part of the elegantly proportioned space was laid out as a conference or meeting room, and Cohen waited at the front while his people filed in and found seats.
“Firstly, I’d like to thank you all for your efforts. Not just yesterday, but ever since we left New Bristol. This has been a difficult period for us all, and your professionalism and commitment have been outstanding. We may have lost Ascendant, but we have gained new allies, disrupted a dangerous faction within the Koschite government, and done great damage to the Deathless cause.”
“More damage than that prick Morgan,” said Ten, inserting his comment neatly into Cohen’s pause and just loud enough that everyone could hear.
“Palmerston has done sterling service,” Cohen continued, sliding past Ten’s remark, “but she is too small to carry us all safely home, even in our reduced state. So I propose that some of our party remain on Child of Starlight for a short period while the rest travel home. We will then return with a larger ship, and maybe a party of diplomats, retrieve the rest of the party and establish proper relationships with the Valkyr.”
“I’ll stay,” offered Ten.
“If the Valkyr agree, and I do not think they will object, then I propose to leave behind the wounded and ask for volunteers from amongst the crew and the Marines. I will then nominate an officer to command. Questions?” He looked around at the team.
“We could refit Palmerston’s bay, strip out her armament fabricators and dump her missile mass, sir,” said Corn. “That might let us get everyone home in one trip.”
“No,” said Cohen, shaking his head. “I did consider that, but it would take time we really cannot spare. As soon our hosts agree, and Palmerston is ready, we leave.”
There was a chorus of murmured assent, but nobody had any further questions, so Cohen closed the meeting and sent them back to their rest.
“Commander, welcome,” said Prime Minister Haukland as Cohen was shown into her office. “You look much recovered.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister. The apartments are very comfortable, and I’m well rested after the, er, excitement of the last few days.”
“And your crew? They too are rested?”
“Yes, Prime Minister, thank you.”
“Good. Then I suspect you will want to be on your way,” she said. “Not that I am trying to get rid of you, you understand. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you need, but I suspect you have duties that require your return.”
“Indeed,” said Cohen. “I have much to report and although you have been most generous hosts, we do need to get back.”
“I understand that Palmerston is ready to fly. Have you decided when you will leave?”
“Within the hour, ideally,” said Cohen, “but we have a problem with numbers, and I need to make one further request.”
“You wish to leave part of your crew here with us while you return home? Yes, we anticipated that need. Palmerston’s size would be uncomfortable for such a large number of people.”
“Exactly so, Prime Minister. And yes, we would like to leave around half our people, if you would be able to accommodate them.”
“Of course, Commander, that is entirely possible. Indeed, we were thinking that the entire suite of apartments your people are currently using might be permanently assigned to a diplomatic mission, if your government would consider such an effort to be desirable.”
“That is most generous, Prime Minister, thank you. I can’t speak for my government, but I imagine they would be very interested in taking up your offer and in establishing a consulate of some sort.”
“Good. We can take care of the details later,” said the
Prime Minister. “But this is an offer you can accept without needing to leave behind you people,” Haukland went on. Cohen frowned, confused. “We have discussed this issue at length, and we feel that it is time for the Valkyr to reconnect with the people of Sol.”
Cohen nodded thoughtfully but said nothing as he waited for Prime Minister Haukland to elaborate.
“Isolation suited us for a long time, but things change, and the Valkyr must change with them or risk being swept away. Recent events have demonstrated just how great those risks truly are.”
Cohen nodded again, unsure what Haukland was proposing.
“So we will send a trade and diplomatic mission with you when you return. A vessel is being prepared,” she said, gesturing towards a display on the wall that showed a view of the main bay, where a sleek white ship like a sculpted oval gleamed beneath Child of Starlight’s lamps.
“She’s beautiful,” said Cohen appreciatively, running his eyes over the ship’s smooth lines.
“And brand new, the first of a new family of vessels. A fleet, I suppose you might say. Her crew is boarding as we speak, and Brisingamen has room for everyone from your crew who will not have a berth on Palmerston. In fact,” Haukland went on with a touch of humour, “I think the passengers on Brisingamen will be rather more comfortable than the crew on Palmerston.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister,” said Cohen, “that is extremely generous of you.”
“Well, all things come with a price, Commander,” said Haukland with a wry smile. “We have a small cargo of goods, a selection of technical information and engineering samples that we wish to trade, and a personnel request.”
Cohen hesitated, unsure where this was going. “Personnel?”
“Yes. Three of our people have asked to join your crew.”
“I’m not sure that’ll be possible,” said Cohen sceptically and with a little shake of his head. “Palmerston is a fighting ship–”
Haukland held up her hand and Cohen nodded. “My apologies, Prime Minister. Please, continue.”
“I must admit that I was surprised, but Frida Skar has always been something of an enigma. Brilliant, of course, but she can be a little difficult.”
Cohen nodded, unsure what to say.
“And where Skar goes, Ornament – Agent O – follows.”
Cohen was gobsmacked.
“Your research AI? You would let it travel with a foreign force?”
“Agent O is a citizen, Commander,” she said with a tone of mild rebuke after reading the translation, “not a slave. It is free to choose its friends and make its own decisions. And as you found earlier, neither Skar nor Agent O are easily denied when they have set their minds to something.”
“But the hardware...” murmured Cohen, not quite able to wrap his mind around the idea of an AI that was free to act of its own volition.
“Mere atoms, easily replaced,” said Haukland, sweeping aside Cohen’s concerns. “Indeed, we already have a dozen other similar hardware systems in Child of Starlight, with more being fabricated as we speak. Agent O will remain here as well, of course, as a fork of its software, albeit with some changes to its personality to maintain a degree of individuality.”
“Two instances of Agent O would present a challenge to any leader,” observed Cohen drily.
“Quite,” agreed Haukland with feeling, “and this way it and its forks – there are several already – can play other roles.”
“I understand,” said Cohen, “and we would be happy to have Skar and Agent O aboard.” What Admiral Staines would say was anyone’s guess, but that was a problem for another day. “And the third person?”
“Trygstad,” said Haukland, somewhat less amused. “We might have sent her with Brisingamen in any case, but she has asked to join Skar and Agent O aboard Palmerston.”
Cohen raised his eyebrows, but having accepted Skar and Agent O, he could hardly refuse Trygstad. “We would be honoured,” he said.
“Then that’s settled,” said Haukland. “Brisingamen will accompany you when you leave and will carry as many of your people as necessary. Skar, Agent O and Trygstad will join you on Palmerston, and we will set aside the apartment facility for use by your government.” She stood up and offered her hand. “Thank you again Commander, and I wish you a safe journey home.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister,” said Cohen, hoping he had made the right decision.
35
Cohen opened a channel to Vice Admiral Staines as soon as Palmerston dropped out of hyperspace near New Bristol.
“Captain Cohen,” said Staines from what looked like his private suite on HMS Iron Duke. “This is a most welcome surprise.”
“Good day, sir. I thought it best to report as soon as possible, given the circumstances.”
“After we lost contact with the fleet, we feared the worst.” Then he frowned at something offscreen. “Wait a minute, HMS Palmerston? What happened to Ascendant?”
“Scuttled, sir,” said Cohen grimly. This was the conversation he had been fearing throughout the return from Folkvangr. He went on, determined to get it done as quickly as possible. “In the face of overwhelming enemy aggression, I took the decision to preserve the mission and achieve a victory. The Deathless loss was greater than ours.”
Staines was silent for a moment, but his expression was dark.
“Everything’s in my report, sir,” said Cohen, struggling on under the growing weight of Staines’s obvious disappointment. He triggered the despatch of the files and watched as they were transmitted.
“And where is the rest of the fleet?” asked Staines quietly, in a tone Cohen recognised as one the admiral used only when he was exceptionally angry.
“Destroyed, sir. Utterly destroyed, during the Battle of Akbar.”
Staines’s expression darkened further, until it seemed he might simply disappear into the shadows.
“Destroyed?” he hissed.
“Ambushed, sir, by the Deathless, and cut to pieces.” Cohen paused. “Ascendant and Palmerston retreated with heavy damage. All other ships were lost.”
Staines leaned back, and his hand slid to his face, covering his eyes for a moment before he spoke.
“You’re sure? What about Admiral Morgan and HMS Duke of Norfolk?”
“Yes, sir, certain. We were ordered to the reserve at the rear of the fleet. Palmerston docked with us by the skin of their teeth before we escaped to hyperspace. But we saw Duke of Norfolk destroyed before we left. Escape pods were launched prior to the explosion but none bore the transponder of Admiral Morgan. I assume he went down with his ship.”
Staines rubbed his eyes. “At least we can redeploy Admiral Morgan while we wait for the Akbar system to be surveyed for intact escape pods. I’m sure if he had been in a fit state to leave, he would have been in his personal escape pod.” said Staines. “We will debrief in person when you reach New Bristol. Is there anything else you should tell me now? Any good news? Perhaps some useful intelligence from the battle?”
“We have new allies, sir. The Children of Freyja who are known, informally, as the Valkyr. They live in asteroid colonies in the systems the Deathless don’t want.”
“And what makes you think they might be useful allies?”
“They’re an offshoot of Koschite society, sir, a peaceful people without a military force but they are technologically advanced. They split decades ago, maybe a century or more.” Cohen took a deep breath. “They gave us aid when we needed it, and my decision to sacrifice Ascendant took place during our successful efforts to protect their people from Deathless aggression.”
“Sacrifice?” asked Staines, his expression now as grim as Cohen had ever seen.
“Diplomatic outreach, sir. A hearts and minds campaign.”
“A hearts and minds campaign, led by a junior lieutenant commander in the Royal Navy, acting outside the chain of command and with no orders to that effect,” Staines stated flatly.
“Sir.” Cohen played his last card. “Standing orders
are to render all possible assistance to allied nations. On discovering they were not part of the Koschite government, I determined that cooperation was vital to the survival of my crew, as well as to win the trust and material support of the Valkyr. It’s all laid out in my report, sir.”
“You scuttled an irreplaceable vessel of significant importance to our war effort to aid a foreign power,” summarised Staines. “There will have to be a Board of Inquiry, and I do hope, for your sake, Captain, that your report appropriately justifies all your actions.” Staines muted his microphone and spoke to someone off camera. “I’ve given orders for Admiral Morgan to be redeployed. His crews will have to wait until we have checked for survivors in escape pods.”
“Sir? I know the protocol is to revisit the site of the battle, but it hasn’t been used for decades. Surely the Admiralty won’t risk another fleet going to Akbar just for this?”
Staines frowned. “And if you were the one stuck in an escape pod with dwindling supplies, Captain? Would you be so worried about the risk if it were you in a pod? I know this isn’t something the Navy has had to do for a long time, but I would no more leave our personnel to starve to death in deep space than I would redeploy them and risk creating concurrent duplicates because we hadn’t checked their status. We don’t have ships for the crew who’ve died in any case, so we don’t need to redeploy them yet, but rest assured, we will rescue any survivors, Captain.”
“Yes, sir, of course. My apologies. I didn’t mean to imply we should abandon them. I will happily volunteer to lead the mission to rescue them sir.”
“If you had a ship of your own, I would take you up on that. I will read your report fully and call you back. You can take me through it all, from the beginning.”
“Captain Cohen,” said Rear Admiral Harper, “it is the judgement of this Board of Inquiry that your actions following the Battle of Akbar were in line with the standards required by the Royal Navy. The Valkyr were deftly handled, and you displayed the initiative we expect of every commanding officer. We therefore clear you to return to active duty and your record will reflect that your conduct was not at fault.”
