by Ryk Brown
“Nearly complete?”
“There are still a few cells yet to be raided,” the general explained. “The major’s numbers are limited, and he now has a sizeable number of prisoners to guard.”
“When does he estimate completion?” Lord Dusahn wondered.
“Two weeks, maximum.” The general braced himself for a scathing response from his leader but received none.
“Very well,” Lord Dusahn replied.
“My lord?”
Lord Dusahn looked at his trusted general and smiled. “You were expecting a more emotional response?”
“Respectfully, yes. Yes, I was.”
Lord Dusahn laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you, my friend.” He looked around at the brilliant skies and the lush, colorful gardens around him. All along the hills that surrounded the, once proud, capital of the Takaran Empire, there were estates, office buildings, factories…all the signs of a thriving civilization…all of which he now controlled. “Look around you, my dear general. All of this is ours now. And with it, we will build an empire, the likes of which will make the one that once cast our forefathers out pale in comparison.” Lord Dusahn looked at the general. “And all because I granted an audience with an old man selling miracles.”
“Opportunity often comes from unexpected sources.”
Lord Dusahn nodded agreement. “Corralius Narcor. One of my favorites.” He looked around again. “Everything we need is here, in this tiny cluster of stars. Resources, manpower, technology, infrastructure. Hell, even the food isn’t bad,” he laughed.
“Taking control is only the beginning,” General Hesson warned. “We still must win the hearts and minds of those we have subjugated.”
“Peace and prosperity is the magic elixir that wins the loyalty of the human herds,” Lord Dusahn stated.
“Fina Dortel. A controversial.”
“Another of my favorites. Even those with radical thoughts and agendas can sometimes spout truths worth remembering. None could be truer.”
“And what are we to do with the captured Corinari?” General Hesson asked.
“The same that we do with all those we subjugate,” Lord Dusahn replied. “Offer them a chance to serve the empire either as soldiers or slaves.”
“The Corinari are unlike most warriors we have conquered in the past, my lord. They are proud, they are loyal, and they are dedicated. Even in their retirement, they serve their world. I am not sure they could be trusted to serve us faithfully.”
“Do we trust any of the soldiers we absorb?” Lord Dusahn questioned.
“Not entirely, no.”
“Then, I do not see the problem. Even the most dedicated soldier’s patriotism can be swayed, if given the right enticements. Power, respect, financial reward, every man has his needs. The Corinari are no different, trust me.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“We grant them the same opportunity as we do all those we conquer. The choice is theirs,” Lord Dusahn stated firmly.
“I will see to it, my lord,” General Hesson promised, taking a step backward before turning and walking away.
Lord Dusahn took in a deep breath. The smell of the garden was intoxicating. The previous world they conquered had been an ugly place, cursed with a putrid atmosphere. Takara and her sister worlds were lush and beautiful, each with their own unique charms. The Takarans were truly masters at terraforming. It was one of the many Takaran technologies Lord Dusahn planned to use to his advantage as he expanded his empire.
* * *
“You need to get out in front of this,” Miri insisted, “before Galiardi makes his next move.”
“What do you propose I do?” her father asked. “Tell the public everything? That my son, their hero, put all their lives at risk by circumventing his own execution? That he stole gunships from the very alliance he founded?”
“And that he is trying to honor our commitments to our allies, just as they once honored their commitments to us.”
“They will think I knew he was alive all along,” the president said.
“But you didn’t,” Miri reminded him. “None of us did.”
“Galiardi’s right,” the president said, shaking his head. “The truth doesn’t matter. All that matters is what the public will believe.”
“Which is exactly why we need to get in front of this. Beat Galiardi to the punch. We tell the public he’s known all along that the Jung ships that trespassed against us were a false-flag operation by the Dusahn, to keep us from sending ships to the Pentaurus cluster. That he recommended a retaliatory strike against the Jung when he knew they had done nothing wrong, all because he wants a war with them. He wants an excuse to get revenge.”
“That may not play as well as you think,” the president insisted. “Plenty of people feel as he does. They want revenge.”
Miri plopped down in a chair, frustrated. “What I don’t understand is why? Why does Galiardi want a war now? Why not a year from now? Two years. Five years. We’d be better armed by then, wouldn’t we?”
“He wants this war now because the Dusahn have jump drives,” President Scott explained.
“What?”
“He fears that if the Dusahn somehow gained access to jump drive technology that the Jung will, as well. And if they do, we will not be able to defend ourselves. Not if they outfit their entire fleet with jump drives.”
“But we don’t even know where the Dusahn got the jump drive technology,” Miri argued. “For all we know, they figured it out on their own.”
“It doesn’t matter,” the president argued. “His point is still valid. Deal with the enemy now, while you still can, or risk not being able to handle them later. He’s been handed an opportunity to do exactly that, and even if the truth is revealed, he still comes out looking good in the eyes of all who want revenge. He looks like a hero. A hero who made the tough call, deciding to lie in order to protect everyone.”
“Jesus, pop. You sound like you admire the guy!”
“In a way, I suppose, I do. At least, I admire his dedication, even if I disagree with his methods.”
“But what about the Dusahn?” Miri wondered. “Even if Galiardi defeats the Jung, he’ll still have the Dusahn to deal with. And they do have jump drives.”
“The Dusahn are not a direct threat to the Sol sector,” the president insisted. “They have too few ships, and by the time they are able to build up their fleet, ours will be even greater. It will take at least a century for the Dusahn to grow their forces to a level that would pose a significant threat to us.”
“Then you think Galiardi is doing the right thing?”
“Not at all,” the president replied. “I just understand why he feels he must do it.”
“What do you plan to do, then?” Miri asked.
“I plan to continue to oppose him.”
“And if he lies to the public and tells them that you knew about Nathan being alive all along, and helped him with the raid on Kohara?”
“I will deny it, and I will tell the truth…that we found out he was alive only a few days before the raid on the Koharan Cobra plant, and that we knew nothing about the raid.”
“But you won’t tell the public that Galiardi has lied to them about the Jung? That he’s starting a war that doesn’t need to be fought.”
“It may not need to be fought, but many will be happy to see it fought and won.”
“Will he win?” Miri wondered.
“If he strikes now, probably.”
“So you’re going to let him?”
“No, I’m not,” the president replied. “But the truth of the matter is, if he decides to attack without authorization, I’m not sure I can stop him. I may even be forced to choose between fully opposing him and risk losing control of this office,
or appearing to back him in order to remain president and possibly keep him from completely annihilating the Jung.”
“You can’t just roll over on this,” Miri protested.
“I’m not rolling over, Miri,” her father insisted. “I’m doing what’s necessary to ensure the safety of our people. That’s my job. Unpleasant at times, yes, but it comes with the territory. What you have to understand is that Admiral Galiardi believes he is doing the right thing, just as I believe that I am doing the right thing. Our end goals are the same. Only our methodologies differ.”
“This is wrong,” Miri insisted. “He answers to you. You have the power to fire him, and without cause.”
“Which would instantly destabilize our military forces.”
“One of his underlings would step in.”
“And likely continue with the same plan that Galiardi has. They are his underlings, after all. Loyal to him and believing in his plan. Better the devil we know.”
Miri leaned back in her chair and sighed in frustration. “This is exactly why Nathan hated politics so much,” she finally said. “And I have to say that I agree with him.”
“The bad is necessary, in order to accomplish the good,” her father reminded her. “A good politician never loses sight of that.”
* * *
Birk had drawn the first watch and had sat staring at the landscape between the barn, the house, and the roadway for going on several hours now. At first, staying awake had been difficult. After hiking all night and day, every muscle in his body was tired. But he had gotten into a rhythm, moving his eyes from target to target, then closing them for ten seconds before repeating. He had even begun humming one of his favorite tunes to help keep himself awake and provide timing. He was actually quite proud of himself for handling his watch duty so diligently. Right up until the moment that he felt the cold muzzle of a gun against his left cheek.
Birk’s eyes popped open with a start, immediately shifting to his left. His body tensed, about to spring into action…
“I wouldn’t,” the old man whispered.
“Fuck,” Birk exclaimed, not quite under his breath.
Michael woke quickly, immediately raising his weapon and taking aim as the nearly silent whine of his charge pack announced that his weapon was ready to fire.
“Touch that trigger and your buddy here will have a really big hole in his head,” the old man warned in a calm and confident manner.
“He’s not my buddy,” Michael replied with a similar demeanor.
“What the…” Cuddy exclaimed, also waking.
“That burner of yours will bring the Dusahn down on us in minutes,” the old man warned. “This thing’s air-powered. Not as deadly, but deadly enough…especially at close range. Your call, kid.”
Michael remained still, his weapon still trained on the old man, ready to burn a hole through his head and melt his brain. “Who are you?”
“You aren’t Dusahn. If you were, you wouldn’t be sleeping in the hay trying to avoid the satellite sensors.”
“No, we’re not,” Michael replied. “I’ll ask one last time. Who are you?”
“I own this place, so I don’t feel the need to answer to you,” the old man stated.
“This gun says otherwise,” Michael argued.
“I have an idea,” Birk interrupted. “How about you both put the guns down, and we can converse calmly…without a gun pointed at my head.”
“Since you are all trespassing on my property, I insist that you lower your weapon first,” the old man told them.
“Very well,” Michael replied, slowly lowering his weapon as he switched its power off.
The old man watched Michael out of the corner of his eye, waiting until he had placed the powered-down weapon on the hay beside him before finally lowering his own weapon.
“Oh, thank God,” Birk exclaimed.
“Now, who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my barn?”
“We’re just innocent travelers, trying to make our way back to Aitkenna,” Michael lied. “Our vehicle broke down about twenty kilometers south of here…wherever here is. We’re just trying to make it to a transport station, so we can catch a ride to the city. That’s all. We mean you no harm, I assure you.”
The old man laughed. “You’re a really bad liar, son.” He looked the three men over. “You’re in charge of these two, that much I can tell. And that blaster you’re carrying is the same type that was dropped by the Karuzari during the raid on the holding facility in Aitkenna a few weeks back. Now, you may be travelers, and you may be on your way to the city, but you sure as hell aren’t innocent. Either way, I don’t care to know more than that.” He looked at Birk and then Cuddy. “You two got burners, as well?”
Cuddy slowly pushed the hay back to reveal the energy rifle lying next to him.
“Uh, huh,” the old man said. He looked at Birk. “Where’s yours?”
“Uh, I think you’re standing on it, sir.”
The old man stepped back and brushed the hay away with his foot, revealing another energy rifle. “You be gone by sunup, understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Michael replied respectfully.
“And if I see you outside of this barn, I will shoot you…for appearance’s sake.”
“Understood,” Michael added.
“Damn fools,” the old man muttered as he turned to depart.
“Uh, sir, if you don’t mind my asking, how did you figure out we were here?” Michael asked.
“Your sentry here was snoring. It was so damned loud I thought my tractor had started all by itself.”
Cuddy looked at Birk.
“I thought I was wide awake, I swear.”
“Damn fools,” the old man repeated.
“Sir,” Birk called after him. “I don’t suppose you have anything to eat?”
The old man ignored him, shaking his head as he stepped through the crack in the barn door, pulling it closed behind him.
“Way to go, Birk,” Cuddy chided.
“I was sure I was awake,” Birk defended. “I couldn’t have been out for more than a minute or two, honest. What time is it, anyway?”
“Twenty-two thirty,” Michael replied.
“Really?” Birk said sheepishly. “Okay, I admit, I might have been out for more than a minute or two.”
* * *
“Tell me it went well,” Commander Macklay said as he met the admiral in the corridor, outside the fleet command shuttle station, deep inside Port Terra.
“The President has his opinion, and I have mine.”
“Then nothing has changed,” the commander realized, falling in step alongside the admiral.
“Funny thing is, I’m pretty sure he knows that I’ll attack with or without his consent, and I’m pretty sure he’s not going to try to stop me.”
“How is that possible?”
“It’s possible because he knows I’m right and that we must seize this opportunity while we can. He just doesn’t want to go down in history as the one who made the ugly call.”
“So, he’s passing the buck to you.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” the admiral agreed. “And to be honest, I’m fine with that.”
“Surely he can’t know everything we plan to do,” the commander said.
“Not everything, no. He’s a smart man, but he’s too quick to turn a blind eye to the evil that men can do. He always has been.”
“Then, you’re green-lighting the op?”
Admiral Galiardi stopped in his tracks, looking at the commander. “Yes, Commander. You have a green light.”
Commander Macklay sighed, the reality of it still not fully sinking in. “Jesus, Admiral. Are we sure about this?”
“We don’t have
a choice, Commander. That’s the irony of it. The President of Earth left us with no other choice.”
* * *
“I never snore,” Birk insisted.
“He’s not lying,” Cuddy agreed. “I’ve never heard him snore.”
“If you can’t stay awake during watch, you are supposed to wake someone up to either help you stay awake or let them take the watch if able,” Michael said sternly. “That’s basic training stuff.”
“You forget, neither of us has ever been through basic training,” Birk pointed out.
“Still, it seems like common sense.”
“To you, maybe.”
“I see your point.”
“Uh, guys?” Cuddy tried to interrupt.
“Perhaps the resistance should create some kind of a handbook for new recruits, or something…”
“Guys?”
“Perhaps,” Michael agreed, if for no other reason than to end the discussion.
“Guys,” Cuddy repeated, more urgently. “He’s coming back.”
Birk immediately reached for his energy rifle.
“Don’t,” Michael warned.
“But he’s probably armed,” Birk argued.
“He’s armed,” Cuddy confirmed, still peering out through a crack in the door.
“The old man was right,” Michael insisted. “If we use our weapons, the Dusahn will detect the energy discharges and be on us in minutes. Besides, he gave us permission to stay for the night.”
“Maybe he changed his mind,” Birk suggested. “Maybe he’s coming to boot us out.”
“If he changed his mind, it is more likely that he would contact the Dusahn and win favor for himself,” Michael said.
“He’s carrying something.”
“Yeah, a gun,” Birk said.
“In addition to his gun,” Cuddy explained. “A bag,” he added, stepping back to allow the old man to enter.
