by Damon Alan
“Why do the Hive attack humanity?”
“You are the creators, and would end the Collective if you could. That cannot be allowed. Hive design is by nature amenable to colonizing human hosts. Your species designed that to be so.”
Ouch. That was all true.
“What is the nature of the weapon you used to destroy the star in this system?” the enemy asked her.
Could she answer that?
“I would answer you if I could, but we are still analyzing exactly how that happened. Our weapon did not perform as expected.”
That was true. Emille was a wildcard.
Her turn. “Is it possible to negotiate a truce with the Collective?”
Might as well use the terms the Hive used for its own kind.
“No,” was the curt reply. “What is the nature of the stardrive you are using to move your vessel?”
“That is not information that one shares with an enemy,” Sarah said. “And since there can be no truce, I cannot answer that question for you.”
“Then this exchange is concluded.”
“It closed the link,” Seto said.
“It’s spinning up its singularity,” Harmeen reported. “Fast, too. The FTL drive design is advanced over what we have. I estimate it will jump in two minutes.”
“Emille, take us home!” Sarah yelled back to the adepts.
The Hive ship’s large singularity would create a massive gravity wave. More of the adepts would be harmed. They had to leave now.
“It’s too soon, Sarah Dayson,” Emille said. “I’m not sure we have the strength.”
“If you don’t jump, some of you will die. We’re too close to this ship and it’s about to set its demon free on you.”
Emille looked at Sarah and nodded.
Together Emille and Alarin’s heads rolled back. The other adept on her team, barely functional from the last gravity wave, fell back into unconsciousness.
Sarah turned back to the viewscreen to see the result.
Twenty-thousand light years above the galactic plane amid a jarring lack of stars, five hundred light-years doesn’t change the view much.
“We’re home,” Corriea said.
She’d have to take his word for it.
Chapter 19 - Admiral’s Personal Log
AI Lucy82A recording, Admiral's personal log, personal archive: Galactic Standard Date 23:17:11 22 GUSTA 15329
Personal log entry #1308, Admiral Sarah Dayson, origin Korvand, Pallus Sector.
Current Location: Inbound to Refuge in the Oasis star system.
We are moving toward Refuge to enter orbit and get my people a well deserved rest. The adepts performed admirably, although there are definitely some risks involved with them. Apparently star destruction is one of those risks. I’m going to have to ask myself if the potential price of Emille’s unpredictability is worth the advantage she gives us in battle.
On a positive note, she’s learned that her spontaneous actions can have severe consequences, and I think she genuinely regrets how that developed.
If all else fails, this fleet now has the capability to blow up stars. That is terrifying, sobering, and, to be honest, full of potential against an enemy that has to be stopped. The question, I suppose, is how to use such a weapon.
We’ll find a way.
It’s going to take a lot to eradicate the Hive.
[A sound AI estimates 99% probability to be a zero G thermos being filled with water]
Orson is dead, and once more the Oasis system is returned to peace. We can put the Stennis in orbit, and finally get to the task of restoring the old man to true combat status. If only we had the kind of shipyard they have at Mindari. He’d get the royal treatment. A day at the spa for this worthy beast. But instead the Fyurigan will be his nursemaid, and cobble him back into working order the best our engineers can. But once he’s done, I have plans, rest assured.
[A 17 second pause and a sound the AI estimates 70% probability to be drinking]
I need to get ready for Heinrich’s trial. I believe she was drugged, and that circumstances were beyond her control. I’m not going to see her scapegoated if that’s the case. I need to reach out to some people and let them know I can ill afford to lose an officer who is skilled enough to blow a ship out from under me. I have use for a loyal officer with that sort of talent.
Dr. Jannis will have to examine her, determine the nature of the drug, let me know how under Orson’s control Commander Heinrich was. That will be the ultimate factor determining which side of this I come down on, I suppose.
There will be a trial. There has to be a trial. Heinrich, if innocent, will be found so, but people need to see that justice is consistent.
I can’t afford to lose any good officers. I’ve lost too many.
[A door chime, followed by a manually controlled pause of six hundred ninety-seven seconds]
Alarin has informed me that he has problems at home. That Edolhirr has taken care of the details, but that he needs to get on the ground ASAP to deal with an errant adept.
Errant adept. Is there anything more terrifying than that?
Regardless, he’s the man to deal with such things, and it’s his nation, his people. I will order my shuttle to get him to the surface, then return for me later.
Stars, can’t a girl have one day to fish on the end of a pier with no worries?
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I could use a vacation day.
[A sigh]
End the log, Lucy.
Chapter 20 - Alarin’s Truce
Cycle 42, Year 8750
Emille walked with Alarin, down the streets of the newcomer city. Buildings reached into the sky that the storming rages of the tropics were unable to knock down. Trees lined smooth streets, and people sat at tables and benches spread among their creation. The city… they called it Jerna, had a kindness and a life to it that he hadn’t felt in most of Zeffult. He mourned for the loss of the people in his capital, but maybe the loss of the city itself wasn’t a complete disaster.
He’d rebuild Asdahar, Zeffult’s new capital, to be like this one. Alive, embracing of nature and the goodness of people.
“What are you thinking?” Emille asked.
“Don’t you know?”
She stabbed him in the ribs with her finger. “I’m not you, scruffian, who jumps into the minds of others unbidden as you did when we first met.”
His face turned red. What was it about women that they refused to let you forget such embarrassing moments. “Well, I know it was you that farted at dinner with Thea’s friends the other night, not that poor lady everyone wound up blaming.”
“I— How—”
“I sensed the warmth coming from under your chair.”
She punched his arm. “You’d best watch it, old man.”
He laughed. A sore arm was the sure signal of a minor victory in the eternal turmoil that was life with Emille.
“Your mother and father raised a fantastic woman,” Alarin said.
“Shut up, you’re not going to worm your way out of revenge.”
“No, I mean it. And I can see how. Master Edolhirr’s solution to the Eislen problem was perfect.”
The change of subject worked perfectly, she was sucked into it unaware that he’d redirected her energies away from him.
“How so, he should have crushed that insolent backwoods oaf,” Emille retorted.
“Not at all,” Alarin countered. “Your father came up with the perfect solution. Zeffult is weakened right now. It has always been our adept forces that kept us safe, and our wealth of resources that kept those adepts happy. In the past we’d treated the Eastlands as a place to find more children born with the gift, but otherwise as a land full of people too stupid to take care of their own business.”
“Doesn’t Eislen moving in and setting up a government of his own sort of prove that?”
He smiled. Emille was a lot like Merik, quick to rise to confront a challenger, instead of making the ch
allenger’s agenda fit with her own. Alarin, on the other hand, realized that Eislen’s wants fit exactly into Alarin’s needs. Edolhirr, in his wisdom, had seen the same.
“Let’s sit,” he said, gesturing toward a bench.
They sat together. The bench they chose overlooked the sea, and in the distance a large sailing ship approached.
“See that ship?” Alarin asked.
“Of course I do.”
“Trade vessel from Baroon, which is even farther away from us than our homes. Halfway around the world, in fact.”
“So?”
“Sarah and Thea have made it their priority to open trade with every inhabited continent. Six of the eleven continents are, in fact, inhabited, so that’s a lot of trade.”
Emille didn’t respond, but wore the face she wore when she thought him a know-it-all.
“I’m only saying that by offering their iron products to the world, they’ve made the world agenda the same as theirs. Peace.”
“I get it,” Emille said. “You’re saying that as long as Eislen plays by the rules my daddy gave him, you’re going to let things lie.”
“We did lose a lot of our adept forces to Orson. And a lot of our soldiers. If not for the friendship I have with your father, Zeffult would be very vulnerable.”
“Dad loves you.”
“And I him. But I’m fully aware that if he wanted Zeffult to be Antecaran right now, he could make that happen as long as Sarah didn’t come to my aid,” Alarin replied. “But he knows that my agenda is the same as his, and he therefore lets things continue as they are. He knows I will protect you with my life, that you and I are going to have amazing children, and that once Zeffult recovers he will once again have a strong ally protecting his southern border.”
“War wasn’t really a thing until Merik taught people how to do it.”
“She pointed out the contempt adepts had grown to have for the common man. Until she put her army together, adepts had assumed that any real conflict would be settled by adepts. Not soldiers.”
“She didn’t do us any favors,” Emille said. “She made the world more bloody.”
“No favors in that regard, at least,” Alarin agreed. “We now not only have to deal with fools like the Himallands, but we have to remove workers and craftsmen from society solely so they can wield a sword and protect our homelands against others in foreign nations with untoward aspirations for power.”
“Unseemly.”
“Yes, but that’s where Eislen’s agenda backs mine. Adepts still hold the power, and Eislen unwittingly proved it. He crushed that small force in the Eskur Lowlands, and his soldiers didn’t even draw a weapon. Adepts are the ultimate arbiters of power, and even Eislen, thickheaded as he is, knows it.”
“Those men and women who died, they had families, Alarin. It shouldn’t have happened, and if we let my father send troops…”
“Not a chance. Your father gave me something more than a chance the right to make decisions for Zeffult. He gave me the dignity of showing me a way to make sure Zeffult took care of its own business. Eislen will defend the Eastlands. He will provide goods for the building of our new capital. And I will let Eislen create a place where the old ways are followed in return.”
“He’s practically his own nation under those terms,” Emille protested. “I’m to be your Queen, I should have a say in how people respect our authority.”
“You followed your father’s teachings and became probably the most powerful adept on Nula Armana. Now you will follow mine and learn how to wield that power,” Alarin said. “You are to be my wife, and I love you with everything I am, but I am First Adept. And you are Second.”
That pissed her off. An indicator of how far Alarin would have to travel to teach her a kind and gentle hand for ruling.
“You are the master,” she said. The tone did not match the words.
He grabbed her hand, locking his fingers into hers. “I am no such thing, and you know it. I am only your teacher. And together we will rule Zeffult.”
“More than that,” she said. “Most of the world considers you First Adept of Nula Armana. It was you that kept Merik from wreaking more havoc, from potentially killing my father.”
“If that’s so, then it’s up to me to set an example for more than only you.” Alarin squeezed her fingers. “Eislen, as long as he behaves as a good neighbor, will have my blessing because both me and your father need him to do as he has promised.”
“I see why.”
She paused, her attention suddenly focused out at sea on the Baroonian ship. “Look it’s turning.”
“Passing through the shoals,” Alarin said. “Zeffult is a seagoing nation, at least the Westlands. He’s lined up to pass through. I watched the fishing boats do it as a child.”
“I know you think I’m impetuous, but I am not Merik,” Emille said. “I will change my course if I must.”
He let go of her hand and put his arm around her, drawing her close. “I know you will. In that regard, you surpass the last First Adept,” he agreed. “In all regards you surpass the current one.”
“Liar.”
He smiled. She would make an excellent Queen when the last vestiges of childhood left her mind. Adult in body, in power, and in intent, she simply had one thing left to learn. Wisdom.
“So you can live with our truce with Eislen?”
“You sold me,” she answered.
“And now I am also First Merchant.”
She punched him in the other arm.
Chapter 21 - Trial
05 Noder 15329
It took some doing to finally find an impartial panel to try Heinrich for her offenses against the fleet.
Sarah had finally reached outside of New Korvand in order to find what she needed.
Adepts and merchants displaced from Zeffult. It was actually Dr. Jannis’s idea, but one that sent a clear message to the natives of Refuge.
You suffered at our hands. Now sit in judgment. Let us make this right.
To be honest, that made Sarah nervous. She wondered if these people, so wronged, could be fair. But four of the tribunal were her people. They would most certainly judge well. She only needed one of the locals to see the light.
Four command officers from the fleet sat on the panel. The Captains of the Fyurigan, Yascurra, EF-2358, as well as Lieutenant Commander Harmeen from the Stennis. Both Corriea and herself had to step away from the duty, due to Eris Dantora’s involvement and Sarah’s knowledge of the events.
She would testify if called. She’d wanted to stand as defense for Inez Heinrich, but Thea Jannis was having none of that. Conflict of interest, she said.
And Thea was right. Which, as usual, Sarah found irritating.
Three adepts and two merchants filled out the panel. Alarin was one, and Edolhirr of Antecar another. The third was an acolyte Sarah didn’t know, from a different continent altogether.
The two merchants had lost everything. Sarah wondered if they could even be remotely impartial, but non-adepts had to be included. It was a new world, after all.
She stared at them now. And at the prosecution. The choice for that had been simple. Master Adept Fasdamar Otanna of Karanya. Even with Merik’s vision, that one had been suspicious of Sarah’s people all along. Let him make his points, and see if he had what it took to shatter the growing friendship Sarah’s people shared with the citizens of Refuge.
The defense was Sarah’s second choice after herself. Sergeant Della Stornbeck, Schein’s comm officer. Her service record was exemplary, and her IQ was very high. She’d do well.
“I call this courts-martial to order,” Anton Vargas said. As captain of the Fyurigan, he was appointed lead officer.
“Commander Inez Heinrich, XO Schein. You are charged with collaboration with a mutiny, mutiny, mass murder numbering more than ten thousand, disobedience of orders, dereliction of duty… that’s enough. This list is extensive. Do you agree to waiving the reading of the rest of the charges?”
“Affirmative,” Stornbeck said.
“There is no capacity to mindwipe you if you are found guilty of these charges, do you understand this?”
“We do.”
“And that if found guilty of these charges, summary execution is the punishment provided under our military code.”
“Sir, we argue that code has been suspended by Admiral Dayson herself,” Stornbeck replied. “We argue that with the suspension of that code, no punishment is set in stone.”
The panel discussed the matter. “Murder under Zeffulti law is also punishable by death, and that has not been suspended. Do you agree with that, Sergeant?”
Stornbeck nodded.
The settings and statements of understanding for legal implications continued for some time. It had been agreed that if the defense won, there would be no more prosecutions of any other drugged crew members. And everyone who was a willing mutineer was dead, except for the as of yet undiscovered local spy. Everything hung on this trial for the ladies who survived the final encounter with Orson.
The witness examinations began, the first set called by Fasdamar, with help from the staff of the Seventh Fleet. He was the same arrogant fool Sarah thought him to be when she first saw him in the Great Hall outside of Zeffult.
A burned woman sat on the stand, speaking in Zeffulti. Behind her an AI translated on a view screen.
“There was no warning. I was indoors, or I might have died like my husband and children. We owned a stone house in the Sethan district. He was away at work in the temple district. I’m told he was burned so that not even ash remained,” she said. She wept into her hands.
Sarah had to give Fasdamar credit for his choice of witnesses, although that didn’t directly pin the deaths of her family to Heinrich.
“I object,” Stornbeck said. “This is an emotional appeal, with no bearing on my XO’s actions.”
“Oh, but it does have bearing,” Fasdamar countered. “It is important to show the losses we have suffered at your hands.”
Even Alarin nodded at that. Sarah wondered if she was missing something cultural. Stornbeck declined to ask any questions of the victims from Zeffult. There was nothing to ask that could change the reality of what had happened to them.
