The Reckoning: War of the Ancients Trilogy Book 3

by Alex Kings

  “We're screwed. I'm screwed!” said Rok. “She's made the announcement public, so we can't do anything to stop her without looking suspicious. She has evidence for her accusations. We have none!”

  Surrot stood by and said nothing while Rok walked up to one of the statues and put his great head against its stone bulk. “Okay,” he muttered. “Twelve hours after a challenge, there's a council vote about whether to replace me. Who on the council is on my side?”

  Rok thought it through. There were the councillors who actively wanted to get rid of him. Then there were the honest councillors, who would turn against him given sufficient evidence. The numbers didn't look good.

  “Surrot,” he said. “Talk to Councillors Hruk, Agorn, and Akka. Bribe, blackmail, threaten. Do whatever you have to. I want them on my side!”

  “I, uh. Yes, Chancellor,” said Surrot. He retreated backwards through the great doors to the throne room.

  *

  Soon after he arrived back on board the Dauntless, Hanson got a call from Kuta. He took it in his ready room.

  “I hope you're happy,” Kuta told him. “You got what you wanted.”

  Hanson frowned. “You don't seem too pleased about it,” he said.

  “Should I be?” said Kuta. “I told you I didn't want to challenge Rok. But I had no choice after we confronted Surrot. Otherwise he would have tried to get revenge.” She shook her head. “So here we are. All because I wanted to help you.”

  She sighed and dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand. “All we can do now is go forward, I suppose. I've issued a formal challenge to the parliament. In twelve hours, the council will vote. If they vote against Rok, he gets removed and I take his place as interim leader until there's a proper election in a month. If they vote in favour of him, he stays where he is. And my career is dead.”

  “I assume there's nothing we can do to help.”

  Kuta shook her head. “Not without creating a scandal. I have a good idea of how the council will vote. In the end it all depends on how much I scared Surrot. If he does keep his head down, I'm fine. If he takes Rok's side and convinces some other councillors to do the same …” With a pointed claw she traced a line across her throat.

  *

  Surrot trotted through the broad hallways of the Varanid Parliament, his claws clacking against the flagstones. He kept checking his tablet, which held a list of carrots and sticks – everything from impressive sums of money to sexual scandals.

  His first stop was Councillor Hruk. Her door was carved with elegant faces and set in a wide arch. Surrot paused outside to rehearse the offer of a bribe.

  Bribes and blackmail. The thought interrupted him, and he remembered Kuta's threat. Keep your head down and it won't roll.

  Still not sure what he would say, he knocked on Hruk's door.

  Chapter 16: We Will Rise to the Call

  Srak sat in his quarters, looking at a feed from one of the Dauntless' telescopes. Nearby floated the blue ovoid of the Firmament, their silent escort. Below it, taking up half the screen, was Ghroga. He watched the Eternal Storm churning away, then traced volcano ranges up towards the capital. He could pinpoint it by the faint glitter of blue against the orange surface. Hundreds of square kilometres of greenhouses surrounded the city, satisfying its food requirements.

  Miller's voice came through the comms: “Mr. Srak, you have a call from the surface.”

  Who could that be? He was still unused to having his communications offered to him like this.

  “Cheers,” he told Miller. “Put it through.”

  It was Kuta.

  “Hello, Srak,” she said. “I … thought it would be a shame if we just let our conversation end like that.”

  “With some bastard bursting in on us pointing a gun, you mean?” said Srak. “You wouldn't believe how many of my conversations end that way. You get used to it.”

  “It was a first for me,” Kuta admitted.

  “You did well,” said Srak. “Was that really a bluff?”

  “Of course. I have nothing on Surrot.”

  “Well, I almost believed you did.”

  Kuta smiled, baring a set of carnivore teeth. They were impressively sharp, Srak thought.

  After a moment or two, her smile faded. She was left looking troubled.

  “What's the matter?” asked Srak.

  “Politics,” said Kuta.

  “Dunno if I can help here. Politics isn't my strong suit.”

  “It's a grimy business.”

  “Oh, well, I knew that.”

  “I've always tried to avoid that side of it,” said Kuta. “I tried to stay as honest as I could. Yes, I kept an eye on what other councillors were doing, for self-defence, but no more than that. But today I've lied, I've blackmailed, and I've tried to cover up treason, all to get myself a top job. I tell myself it's for the greater good, but …”

  “That's what every mass-murderer in a position of power says to justify his actions?” offered Srak.

  Kuta wrinkled her nose. “Not the way I would put it, but yes.”

  “I'm probably the last person who should talk about being good. I mean, I spent most of my life as a fucking mercenary! But I think you're being too hard on yourself. You haven't done anything to hurt innocent people. You're trying to save them. You agree that Rok is a bastard, right?”

  “Of course,” said Kuta.

  “Well then! He had to be removed, and you did that. It doesn't feel good, but –” Srak shrugged. “You get used to that, too.”

  *

  Twelve hours passed. The Dauntless and the Firmament remained in orbit. A few of the Varanid councillors called up to talk to Hanson about his experiences with Kuta or Rok. When one of them came close to the topic, Hanson denied having gone to Ghroga. The lie made him think again about how troubled Kuta had been.

  News came in. More human colonies had been conquered: Kepler, Iona, and Atlantis. He sat in his ready room wondering what would happen to his friend Merrihew on Hybras Station, and Orlov on Iona.

  The news pushed to check in with Yilva and Vyren. They were working on the little data they had obtained. At least progress was being made.

  At last the time came. The vote was broadcast live from Ghroga. Aboard the CIC, Hanson tuned in to the transmission

  The announcer spoke: “We are about to see whether a no-confidence motion against Chancellor Rok for negligence and endangering the Varanid Republic succeeds. Voting is underway. The results are coming in now.”

  A pause.

  “By a margin of two votes, the motion has passed. Rok will be removed from office. There is only one candidate for interim leader: Councillor Kuta.”

  Lanik looked at Hanson. “Well, it wasn't in the manner I expected, and it certainly wasn't done honestly, but you did it.”

  The broadcast ended with a short speech from Kuta:

  “Our period of isolationism is over. The galaxy needs our help, and we will rise to the call. A war is coming, and we must take sides. So as my first act, we will join the Anti-Dominion Coalition against the Ancient ships that threaten our planet.”

  *

  The ship was tiny, a low-end interstellar liner, barely capable of jumping on its own. It flew alongside a small group of other ships, all escapees from the attack on Kepler.

  Hayes sat at the controls. Through the window, he saw a distant blue star. The telescope feed resolved it as the glowing blue orb of Tethya.

  A Tethyan Battleship came up to escort them to the planet. Hayes went tense. This was the first hurdle.

  An incoming call.

  It was a standardised greeting message, explaining the situation over Tethya.

  Hayes let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He'd got through.

  Of course, he couldn't just turn up on the Tethyans' doorstep in and old ship. For his story to have any truth whatsoever he had to bear an ident code that said he was from Kepler. Millicent had changed the ship's registry, replaced the ident code, and set everythin
g up. And she'd done so perfectly. Enough to fool the Tethyans.

  The Battleship led them into Tethya's orbit.

  Hayes looked out over the planet. Above it, hundreds of ships gathered. The most distant were like glittering dust against the darkness.

  For the first hour, Hayes went through the motions. He talked to Alliance officers, giving details of the attack, making sure his story was consistent with everyone else's.

  Eventually, they were satisfied and left him alone.

  He was inside. And somewhere in that fleet, Emily Dawes was hiding.

  Hayes turned up his radio and started listening to and mapping the comm chatter.

  Chapter 17: You Can't Stop Me

  Tethyans [x]

  Varanids [x]

  Albascene [ ]

  Petaurs [ ]

  Glaber [ ]

  Shadowwalkers [ ]

  “Well,” said Hanson. “Those are the easy ones out of the way.”

  “Any ideas for a next step?” said Lanik.

  “I still have no idea what we can do to win the Albascene over, let alone the Shadowwalkers. I suppose that leaves the Glaber.”

  Lanik raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  “There's no central Glaber authority, so we'll have to talk to hives individually. We have various inducements.”

  “Like what?” asked Lanik.

  “Self-interest. There's always self-interest. The Glaber will be as hurt by the rise of a single empire as we will. Besides which, the Tethyans are open to paying them.”

  “There's also the fact that we almost destroyed Hive Shrike,” said Lanik.

  “Yes, there is that,” said Hanson.

  Shrike had been one of the most powerful Glaber hives. Defeating a powerful opponent did give you significant cachet among the Glaber.

  The comm chimed. Lieutenant Miller's voice came through: “Sir, you wanted updates on the Albascene? Something big has just come through.”

  “Put it through to my tablet,” Hanson said.

  His extended his tablet and called up the report. It had been compiled by the Tethyans. It was from Laikon, the Albascene home planet.

  Riots had broken out. Petaurs and Albascene were demonstrating together for Petaur freedom.

  But more than that, the Albascene authorities were preparing to execute the families of the Free Petaurs – unless the Free Petaurs returned to Laikon and renounced their freedom.

  “Lieutenant,” Hanson said into the comms. “Check with the Firmament and tell me the status of the Free Petaurs.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Miller.

  Hanson waited impatiently, drumming his fingers on the desk while Lanik read the report.

  “We have a reply,” said Miller. “The Free Petaurs left Tethya a couple of hours ago.”

  *

  “I'm going to Laikon,” Yilva said. “And I mean that. Whether or not you're coming with me. My work on the Ancient technology will have to wait.”

  Hanson looked at her from across his desk and nodded slowly. “I see,” he said. “Out of interest, if I do let you go, what do you plan to do when you go to Laikon?”

  “Find the Free Petaurs,” Yilva said. “Find their families. Get them out of there.”

  “How?”

  Yilva stepped back. Her confident posture dissolved, and her tail flicked back and forth nervously. “I know my way around the computers there.”

  “And if something else comes up, and you need help? What if the Albascene try to capture you, or kill you?”

  Yilva stared at him. “I'm going,” she said at last. “You can't stop me.”

  “I'd be foolish to try. Still, I think you should go back to your quarters and think about this a bit more.”

  “I won't change my mind.”

  “I'm not saying you should. I'm saying you should go and think about how to actually make this mission succeed, alright?”

  Yilva leaned back and, eventually, nodded. “But when I'm done …” she warned.

  “I know,” said Hanson. “Dismissed.”

  When Yilva was gone, Hanson called Admiral Chang.

  The response came soon after. Chang listened in silence while Hanson explained the situation.

  “Do you think it's wise to get involved in Albascene politics with things the way they are?” he said at last. “Our resources are thin right now.”

  “It's either this or we stand a good chance of losing Yilva, and she's our best shot at defeating Pierce,” Hanson said. “Besides which, we may be able to play this to our advantage. We're looking for allies. For that, we need goodwill.”

  Chang thought about this for some time. “Alright,” he said. “Go to Laikon. But if I need the Dauntless for anything, I'm calling you back.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Chang out.”

  Hanson called the CIC. “Plot a course towards Laikon. Begin jump calculations immediately.”

  Chapter 18: Laikon

  Mayor – but not really Mayor anymore – Orlov trudged across the grasslands with her allies. A hovercraft or shuttle would have too noticeable, so the only way was on foot, a hike of several kilometres.

  She lifted the binoculars from her belt and looked up into the sky. The Ancient ship was clearly visible, hanging in the sky like a demonic, spiky wedding ring.

  Her legs ached. She wondered why she'd agreed to come along on this mission in the first place

  Well, what else was she going to do?

  When the New Terran Dominion had arrived, they'd parked their ship in orbit around Iona and told her to surrender, or they'd wipe every population centre off the planet. They'd asked for the controls to the orbital defence platform, and then they'd fired her. Iona was unquestionably theirs, and the Alliance could do nothing about it.

  So in her mind, she had two choices. Just sit in her office like a lemon, waiting for the end, or get off her arse and actually do something. She knew which option she preferred.

  After an hour or so, they finally reached their destination. The ground rose up into a conveniently-place hillock. Along with the rest of her team, she dropped to the ground and crawled up to the top.

  The air had an unpleasant, sour quality to it. A very fine mist of dilute hydrochloric acid was blowing over from the native biosphere.

  She looked through her binoculars.

  There it was: The IL facility. It was a shallow, boxy building. When IL's conspiracy had been uncovered, the facility had been gutted, almost torn apart by Alliance agents looking for evidence. Now, less than 24 hours after the Dominion's return, it was active again. Bulky shuttles and cargo-haulers were lined up beside it. While she watched, a shuttle landed; another two took off, and hurtled up into the sky.

  “They're definitely doing something,” said one of her companions.

  “Probably just having a party,” said Orlov.

  He made to go. She kept watching.

  “I want confirmation,” she told him.

  So they waited.

  After maybe half an hour, she saw them. Stasis pods, being loaded onto one of the shuttles. The shuttle took off.

  Orlov dropped out of sight behind the hillock.

  “Right,” said her companion. “So we know they're making Blanks. Now what do we do with that information?”

  The Ancient ship was jamming everything from radio to bulkwave. Whatever signal it was emitting was extremely powerful, even managing to penetrate the planet.

  Orlov thought about that as they moved down the hillock.

  “I have an idea,” she told her companion.

  *

  When she heard, Yilva stared at Hanson silently for a few seconds, then hugged him suddenly. She explained excitedly, in a voice almost too fast to understand, some of her plans. She was already trying out her skills on an emulation of the Albascene computer networks and building viruses that could cripple them.

  Soon after leaving Ghroga, the Firmament was called away. The Tethyan Admiral said farewell and wished Hanson good luck
in his efforts. The Dauntless continued onward.

  A day later, they arrived.

  Laikon was a little over half the size of Earth. It was, in fact, the moon of a gas giant. It showed up on the CIC's displays marbled in creamy green and blue clouds, while the whitish, featureless gas giant hung in the background like a blinded eye. Beneath the clouds, there were no continents. Thousands of tiny volcanic islands sprinkled the ocean.

  Here was the homeworld of the Albascene.

  “We're being hailed,” said Miller as they approached.

  “Put it through,” said Hanson.

  “Human vessel Dauntless,” said a calm, synthesised voice. “Please confirm your ident. Claiming a false ident code is an offence under the Albascene Nation and will result in your ship being impounded.”

  “Always nice to have a warm welcome,” Hanson said. He switched on the microphone and replied, “Confirm, this the SAV Dauntless.”

  “Please give reasons for visit.”

  “I'd like to investigate some remarks made to me by the Albascene ambassador,” said Hanson.

  “Acknowledged. Please hold position.”

  “Hold position,” Hanson told Fermi.

  “Yes, sir.”

  They waited.

  The Albascene spoke again: “Confirmed. You have permission to come into low orbit and send a shuttle to the capital.”

  “Thank you,” Hanson said.

  The Albascene proceeded to recite a long list of prohibited activities and the punishments for them.

  Hanson waited for it to finish, then ordered, “Take us in.”

  Chapter 19: Office 3447

  Hanson took a standard shuttle down to the capital with Moore, Agatha, and Srak. In the end he decided it was best not to take Yilva with him. At least not openly.

  The Tethyans had smoothed things over a little since his last confrontation with the Albascene authorities, but Yilva's legal position was still open. And given the way they were attacking the Free Petaurs, it was quite possible they'd try to take Yilva back the moment she stepped off the shuttle. He wasn't looking for a repeat of what had happened on Kalbraica.