by Wayne Basta
Driving the SPC toward the city, Zeric wasn’t sure how he ended up involved in this plan. Sure, he admitted, he had been the one to declare that they should fight.
Maarkean was right that the Alliance had overstepped its authority by a wide margin with this act. And yes, even the SPC had been his idea to help Lahkaba bolster the confidence of the delegates. But that didn’t mean he had to drive it.
Sitting beside him, Maarkean had his eyes closed and was calmly breathing. Probably doing those meditations Gu’od was always talking about. Zeric wasn’t sure if it was due to those meditations, but Maarkean suddenly seemed more focused and confident. He was like the man Zeric had worked with back on Sulas.
After they had escaped from Sulas and met up on Kol, Maarkean had been different. At first, he had assumed it was because the man had relaxed after freeing his sister. But Zeric thought it was more than that. The raid on Dantyne had been completely different than on Sulas. Zeric wouldn’t go so far as to say it, but Maarkean had almost been whiny and wishy-washy.
Zeric, Gu’od and Gamaly had decided to stay with Maarkean for a variety of reasons. Gamaly had come to be friends with Saracasi, and Zeric had realized he was becoming friends with Maarkean. He had also come to respect the man’s abilities and trust him in combat.
The months since the prison break on Sulas had seen Zeric start to rethink his opinions. They had bounced around from several places with only half-formed plans. He couldn’t truly blame Maarkean for that. Everywhere they went, their reputations preceded them. Being at the top of the Alliance most-wanted list and regarded as folk heroes made a life of crime difficult.
Regardless of that, Maarkean’s behavior had made Zeric question his decision. Following him had gotten them all stranded on a planet with a cargo full of Alliance gear they couldn’t sell. The operation on Sulas had gone pretty well, but everything since then – not so much.
The Maarkean of the last thirty minutes was markedly different. He had completely taken charge of the situation, and Zeric found himself happily following along, just like he had on Sulas.
Though, just because he was happy Maarkean was back to his old self didn’t mean Zeric agreed with the plan. Attacking the Alliance ships made sense. It would delay their arrival with almost no risk to either themselves or the troops. But that time should be used to get everyone out of the city. As far as he knew, the Enroians had no militia to call up. The Alliance troops would just return with escorts.
Zeric also didn’t understand the need to get the Congress to agree to it. That seemed like a waste of time. He understood the notion of gaining legitimacy in their actions if the Congress backed them up. But he didn’t think it was needed. No one had authorized them to attack Olan. And defending these people was the right thing to do, with or without their orders to do so.
The countryside they drove over gave way to the out-skirts of the city of Perth. Unlike on Dantyne, the road they followed had not been paved, though it changed once the city structures began. Zeric liked that about the planet. Hovering vehicles didn’t need paved roads and left the planet more natural.
Several people came out of buildings as Zeric drove the SPC down the street. There was a lot of confusion and staring at the vehicle. It was probably an uncommon sight, especially alone. Alliance vehicles would always move in small squads whenever they did patrols.
Following the map coordinates Lahkaba had provided, Zeric took them to the hotel that was hosting the Congress. Zeric found it funny that something called the Kreogh Sector Congress was being held in a hotel convention hall. The name gave it the impression of something much more grand. But with seven planets each sending five delegates, that was only thirty-five people; that didn’t require much room.
He brought the vehicle to a gentle stop directly in front of the hotel. The valets stood around awkwardly, clearly unsure what they were supposed to do. Zeric expected at least one of them had a faint hope he’d get to park the SPC.
Once the vehicle came to rest on the ground, Zeric turned toward Maarkean. “Well, now what?”
Maarkean opened his eyes. “It’s too bad neither of us has our old dress uniforms.”
Zeric blinked in confusion. “Why?”
“We’d look much more impressive.”
Zeric said, “I much prefer my Razors cap to a stiff military hat. And all those buttons are so pointless. Besides, you’d look horrible in Alliance green. Clash horribly with your screfa.”
“It did. Maybe something more neutral? BDU’s?
“I’d be okay with that. Camo patterns work in any setting. Wars, weddings, political conventions.”
Maarkean smiled. “Think we’ve stalled enough?”
“No,” Zeric said truthfully. “But we might as well go inside. It gets pretty stuffy in here with the engine off.”
Maarkean squeezed out of his seat and opened the exterior hatch. They had left the troop compartment filled with the crates of weapons they had stolen. If things went the way Maarkean intended, they would put them to some use. Zeric regretted that they might not make any money off them.
Zeric climbed out of the vehicle and joined up with Maarkean at the entry door to the hotel. He winked at the valets. “No need to park it, we won’t be long.”
The pair headed into the building side by side. Zeric thought they cut an impressive image even without the military dress uniforms. Maarkean’s duster billowing behind him and Zeric’s cap certainly didn’t give off the same impression, but with their pistols at their sides, a rifle slung on his back, and their determined stride, he thought they looked damned menacing. Everyone quickly turned their attention to the two of them as they entered.
The lobby was opulent, with several exotic plants and bright lights that contrasted with the cloudy dark outside. There were some wildly colorful and distorted paintings that made Zeric a little nauseous to look at. He assumed they looked quite nice to the compound eyes of a Ronid.
Their confident stride into the hotel lobby was mitigated somewhat when they both realized they had no idea where they were going. A secret gathering that had just been declared illegal would not have a big sign directing any random passerby to where they were meeting. Zeric turned toward the check-in desk and put a big smile on his face for the Ronid female behind the counter. At least, he thought she was female – he wasn’t good at telling gender on some species.
“Hi, I was hoping you could tell me where the Kreogh Sector Congress is meeting?”
The receptionist blinked at him and said hesitantly, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come now, I know you do,” Zeric said. “See, very shortly a team of Alliance troops are going to storm through those doors and ask the very same question. And they won’t be doing it nicely. That is, unless I can find them first.”
Looking from Zeric to the crowd that was watching them and then back again, the receptionist considered her choices. She lowered her voice and almost whispered to Zeric, “To your right, down the hall, third room on the left.”
With a wink, Zeric thanked her and walked over to rejoin Maarkean. He took a slight lead, guiding them where the receptionist had indicated. The eyes of everyone in the lobby followed them until they were out of sight. Zeric imagined that, after they left, the silence was broken by confused chatter.
When they came to the door, Zeric looked at Maarkean. “Think we should just go in or knock?”
“Let’s slip in, but not make a scene,” Maarkean answered.
Zeric shrugged. He liked making a scene, but he gently opened the room’s door and the two of them slipped into the room. What he saw was not at all what he had expected.
In his mind, he had pictured the delegates sitting around in an orderly circle, listening while one person stood up and gave a boring speech. That’s what the Alliance Congress always looked like when it was shown on the news. Stuffy people standing around looking bored while one droned on about something.
What he saw instead was akin to pandemon
ium. The room itself was set up in a pretty orderly way, with eight tables arrayed in a circle. However, the delegates themselves were all in various states of sitting, standing and pacing. Everyone seemed to be talking at once – most of them shouting.
Zeric examined the eight groups. The number surprised him, as he had been under the impression there would be only be seven: one for each of the seven Alliance colonies in the sector. He picked out the Cardine table, made up exclusively of Camari; the Enro table, with four Ronids and a Liw’kel; Dantyne, where he recognized Owrik with several other Notha; two tables with a mix of species he assumed represented Kol and Mirthod; Ailleroc, he assumed, was the one with only Terrans. He saw Lahkaba and Lei-mey sitting for Sulas. He was pleased to see Pasha Nolan sitting with them, looking much better than he had the last time they’d met.
At the last table, Zeric recognized Faide Darkthorne, Meyka and the mayor of Lost Hope, Revas Shim, plus two others he didn’t know. Irod must be a new eighth delegation. He wondered what they were doing here, and why Meyka wasn’t with the Sulas delegation.
Zeric and Maarkean stood in the back of the room, unnoticed by anyone, for several minutes. Finally, a lone Liw’kel man who stood in the center of the tables banged a gavel on his desk several times. He shouted over everyone that he would have order, and the room quieted down.
The Liw’kel looked over the group until they were all seated, and then he spoke in a more level tone. “The motion before us by Delegate Lahkaba from Sulas is that we should oppose the order by the Alliance government to disband and should give aid to the Enroian Parliament which, as we all know, is already under threat of arrest.”
One of the Terrans stood up. “It is the consensus of the delegates from Ailleroc that we obey this order to disband and return to our own planets. Further opposition will only lead to our arrests as well.”
Several others from different tables shouted out disparaging comments, and the Liw’kel banged his gavel again. The Terran sat down, and Lei-mey stood up. “I’ve spent some time in an Alliance prison already. I have no wish to repeat it. But turning and running won’t keep us from prison; it will, at best, delay it. We have a squadron of ships standing by for Mr. Lahkaba’s word to prevent the troops from reaching us. Onboard one of those ships is the brother of Mr. Mahon from Dantyne. He is ready to fight for the people of Enro. Why are not the rest of you?”
For a moment, shouting started to rise up again, but Lei-mey continued, “Maybe it is because most of you have not had to face having yourselves or your family imprisoned for no legal reason until now. I have and Mr. Mahon’s brother has. But none of you need go through that. We have with us now the men who freed those of us imprisoned on Sulas. And, with your blessing, they will keep all of us from facing that.”
The entire group shifted when Lei-mey gestured toward Zeric and Maarkean. Zeric was impressed by Lei-mey’s ability to grab the crowd. Everyone else was surprised to see them, but Lei-mey looked perfectly calm. Zeric assumed her composure was because the Sulas table was the only one with a clear line of sight to them standing at the door.
“Major Ocaitchi, Corporal Dustlighter, what is the status of your forces?” Lei-mey asked as if she was old friends with them. This was despite the fact that Zeric hadn’t left her under the best of circumstances, and she had never met Maarkean.
Maarkean started to speak, but it came out too quiet to hear. He paused and cleared his throat and then said loudly, “We have three armed ships standing by. Alliance ships from local bases are making their approach to the city, but we have them on our sensors. We are ready to engage at your order.”
For an unpracticed performance, it was impressive. Zeric liked the bit Maarkean had added about the ships already being in their sights. They actually hadn’t talked to Novastar and his group for quite a while. The words had the intended result, though.
Once again, the room erupted in shouting. Many people were shouting at the Ailleroc and Cardine delegations. Zeric guessed they were the biggest holdouts. Ailleroc’s opposition made some sense to him; the planet had a very large Terran population and still had the greatest freedom over all the other colonies.
One voice stood out over the rest. It belonged to an elderly Ronid from Enro, who introduced himself as Halin Corte, Prime Minister of Enro. He stood, and the others quieted down. “If this delegation will not answer in the time we have left, then we will be forced to defend ourselves. My parliament has already met. We will not disband. Major Ocaitchi, if I use the power I’ve been granted to form a militia, will you lead it? We have no one experienced in the art of war in the government to call upon.”
Maarkean replied, “Mr. Prime Minister, if the people of Enro wish to defend their right to democratic government, then I would be happy to join you. However, I can only do so if this body supports that decision.”
Maarkean had everyone’s attention. Zeric was glad it wasn’t him. He hated speeches and thought he was terrible at talking to a group.
It was clear that they were expecting Maarkean to say more. He went on, “If everyone doesn’t come together, then I can only help you to hold off these arrests. In six months or less, the Alliance will send the full force of their military down on you. I will not help bring about that level of destruction. But if every planet represented here stands together, then it’s a fight worth having, because then there’s a chance we can win.”
Corte appeared disappointed, but he nodded. “I understand your decision, Major. I therefore, formally call for the Congress to mutually support all governments represented here in any effort to resist the Alliance’s order for them to disband.”
Shouting broke out as soon as Corte finished speaking. Zeric hadn’t expected it to work, but a part of him had hoped that a few words calling for unity would be enough. Maarkean continued to stand beside Zeric as the delegates shouted at each other. After a moment, the Liw’kel who appeared to be serving as the arbitrator of the group got everyone’s attention again.
“A motion has been made. Does anyone second?”
Lei-mey stood up. “Sulas seconds the motion.”
“The motion has been seconded. We will now vote on the motion,” the arbiter said. “Sulas, how do you vote?”
“Sulas votes aye,” Lei-mey said defiantly, looking at the rest of the tables.
“Mirthod?”
The delegates from Mirthod were speaking furiously to each other. Zeric would have thought such a diverse group would strongly oppose the Alliance. He did not know much about the place, but their trade in exotic animals was heavily regulated.
“Mirthod abstains until we can confer with our senate,” one of the delegates finally said.
“Kol?”
The delegates there were similar to Mirthod. Both were planets with small, diverse populations. With Mirthod abstaining, Zeric was sure Kol would do the same. He knew how important even the limited Alliance patrols were to fending off their piracy issues.
One of their delegates stood up. “Kol votes aye.”
“Irod?”
Without much discussion among his fellow representatives, Faide stood up. “Irod votes aye.”
“Enro?”
“Aye,” Corte said, but without shouts of support from the rest of his delegates.
“Dantyne?”
The Nothas were speaking rapidly in their native tongue, which Zeric could not understand. Owrik was clearly the most passionate of the group, and after a few moments, the rest appeared to nod their agreement to him. Standing, Owrik declared Dantyne’s support.
Zeric turned to look to the last two tables. Cardine and Ailleroc were the two he would have pegged as against this move. By his count, they already had five of eight votes, so he wasn’t concerned with what they voted. But there was still a heavy air of anticipation from everyone.
“Cardine concurs with our fellows from Mirthod. We must consult with our parliament.”
“Ailleroc?”
One of the Terrans from Ailleroc stood and answe
red the same as Cardine. At that, everyone in the room appeared to relax, including Maarkean. Zeric didn’t understand why their vote had mattered. Wasn’t abstaining the same as voting no?
“The motion carries with five votes, three abstentions, and zero no’s,” the arbiter said.
A cheer went up from the Enroian and Sulas tables. The other tables clapped but with less enthusiasm than the others. Once the excitement had died down, Prime Minister Corte turned toward Maarkean and Zeric again.
“Major, Corporal, with the full support of the Kreogh Sector Congress, Enro has decided to resist the order to disband our parliament. Will you accept my offer to lead our defenses?”
Maarkean gave a slight bow to Corte and answered for both of them. “We will. With your permission, we will see to dealing with the troops already on their way.”
With a nod of consent from the prime minister, Maarkean drew the secure comm device he had taken from the Alliance equipment and activated the speaker function. “Chimopori, this is Ocaitchi, come in.”
There was slight bit of static, and then Novastar’s voice could be heard over the speaker. “This is Chimopori, we read you.”
The room quieted down as they all tried to overhear the conversation.
“We have just been conscripted into the Enro defense militia. You are hereby authorized to engage the Alliance troopships. Attempt to warn them, and shoot to disable. Take lethal action only if necessary, but keep those ships from landing in the city. Report when you have been successful.”
“Acknowledged. Non-lethal force if possible.”
The comm line closed, and Maarkean turned the speaker feature off. Zeric saw Faide give them both a respectful bow of his head, and beside him, Meyka looked relieved. The rest of the delegates ranged from concerned to angry to ecstatic.
Zeric leaned over to Maarkean and whispered, “Now we get to wait.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Way to put me on the spot back there,” Zeric said. Maarkean wasn’t sure if his friend was joking or was mad.
