For a time, I almost forgot the impending threats of Ghantri invasions, Inner System war, and public speaking.
After I told Jalabir that I would take him up on his offer, I was given the rank of Commander along with the proverbial keys to the Cruiser. I was also given access to dossiers on the available crew I could hand pick. I was pleasantly surprised to find several familiar names, new additions to the Protectorate from the refugees. I flagged them immediately for selection. I had meetings with engineering and logistics people, organising the refit of the Cruiser. Lots of meetings. I had some very specific ideas about how I wanted this ship to operate.
From time to time, I gave interviews to news channels and played the role of dutiful Protectorate poster boy for the masses. I told tales of heroics and amazing feats of bravery by those I had travelled and fought with. Kekkin, either because he was shy or truly humble, asked me not to mention him by name in any of my interviews. He cited operational obscurity, but that excuse was taken from him when Naga Team was publicly disbanded and the team members were given postings of their choice. Not surprisingly, they all wanted in on my crew. They were all awarded medals and promotions, although Kekkin turned down an offer of a commission. He wouldn’t accept any kind of promotion at all until I asked him to be my First Sergeant. I wanted a pro as the master-at-arms on my ship.
Renthal and Harris were both bumped up to Sergeant, while Rego and Geko made Corporal. Ormund chose to move into Fleet Command – Logistics – accepting a promotion to Sub-Commander. Garner, on the other hand, had disobeyed a direct order to withdraw from Gossamer. Despite the positive outcome, Fleet Command could not overlook that fact. He was not punished, publically, but was not awarded a promotion. Just another gong to add to his medal collection. Somehow, I did not think that he gave a damn. I knew why he had stayed in Gossamer – it wasn’t for glory or promotions.
Since I was to join the Galactic Protectorate, rather than be part of a provincial force attached to Protectorate command, I received a crash course on their rank structures and operational policies. While I was in the Primacy Star Marines the Kanto Primacy had managed my career – they decided when and where I was sent and whether I was eligible for promotion. As a Protectorate agent, I had an equivalent rank of Captain in fleet activities. As a Commander, I could plan and execute my own missions, provided they were approved by Protectorate Command HQ. As I was no longer attached to a military force or planetary government, I was essentially an entity in my own right – I could hire my own crews, establish my own non-commissioned ranks and run my ship how I saw fit. The Protectorate financed everything. Sub-Commanders, such as Ormund, supported operations and occasionally undertook their own missions. They didn’t have as much freedom as a Commander, but still had many resources to draw on. It wasn’t uncommon for a Commander to manage several Sub-Commanders.
A Captain, in any other military in the Votus-Eridani Network, was a military rank bestowed by their own chain of command. As my rank was equivalent, a Commander followed the same commands that a Captain would in a military operation. I had no authority over other Captains. The distinction was slight but important. A Protectorate Commander was not a military member but could act in that capacity if called to. A Commander was more a troubleshooter, an arrow the Protectorate could fire at problems throughout the galaxy. Problems such as the Ghantri.
Captain Garner was a Votus System Defence Captain, on loan to the Protectorate to field test their new stealth technology. Since the tech was considered a success, he ended up being recalled to the Votus II System to oversee the construction of a new generation of stealth ships.
I also received coaching from several political writers, sent by Admiral Jalabir. They wanted to make sure my speech had all the right undertones and pleasantries to give the dignitaries the warm and fuzzies. It was frustrating and boring, but I played by their rules for a time.
In my spare time, I kept an eye on the news, seeking out stories of lawlessness in the system. Anything that mentioned organised crime or gang style hits. If what Artemis had said about her motives for freeing Osiris Blackburn were true, he would have started to solidify his power in the system already. With Tac’s help, I started to track his progress through the various cartels and criminal enterprises in the system. The coffee table in my apartment was covered in timelines and police reports about events that I suspected were his doing.
I also found myself searching for mentions of Artemis. I don’t know why I expected to find anything because I didn’t, of course.
Max flagged news articles for me that showed the state of the system. Crackdowns at station customs, immigration control measures, trade sanctions and boycotting for various factions. Not a day went by without some mention of the growing tension in the system. It was starting to show in the public, communities declaring allegiance for one faction or another, small skirmishes in the streets when rival factions clashed. So far, the violence had stayed domestic in nature, the militaries more hesitant to engage.
The political arenas were faring no better. The Esper Royalists had yet to appoint a new Monarch, the Royal Houses blaming each other or pointing to questionable loyalties and sympathies. The DonCrest Corporation had imposed a trade embargo on Acheras Orbital and Eridani Prime and had hired several mercenary companies to protect their interests across the system. The introduction of mercenaries, along with the Corporation pulling its fleet of Organo-ships closer to their stronghold in the system, Restus Station, created more tension. The Tyrillian government was undergoing political upheaval, as an organisation once considered a terrorist group gained political recognition. Instead of denouncing their criminal ways, the group managed to win several key seats in the parliament. Current reports from the region showed a growing distaste for Royalist or Corporate power in the system. The new faction on Tyrillian declared they would apply a hefty commerce tax for any vessels moving through their planetary space, despite the Landford faction denying their involvement. A move that angered both the DonCrest Corporation and the Esper Monarchy. Both attempted to put pressure on Landford to police their planet better and fight the upstart faction that was dictating these decrees. Free trade, once a shining example of galactic cooperation, was essentially dead in the Votus-Eridani Network.
The sporadic news from Harakiwa wasn’t good either. Both factions native to that star system were baiting each other to take the first shots. It didn’t help that Esper loyalists were saying that the Monarchy should intervene and break the blockade of the system. Tyrillian parties were warning of involving foreign factions in Eridanian matters.
Wherever one looked, one saw the signs of upheaval. Distrust of one’s neighbours, territorial intolerance, racial bigotry and abuses of power. Ridiculous taxes and martial law, peaceful protests turned into violent uprisings.
Seeing all the chaos and fear in Eridani? It almost made me believe what Stirges told me. Almost.
I grabbed the nearest tablet I could find and started writing.
21.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Admirals, Commodores, Commanders and Captains. Distinguished dignitaries and ambassadors. Chief Executive Officers and members of the board…my name is Seth Donovan. I’m sure you are all aware of who I am by now, the news has made sure of that. You may even be aware of some of what I have achieved recently. I have been asked to speak a few words to you all tonight, words the Galactic Protectorate hopes will shift your opinions ever so slightly. They hope I will sway your opinions about…what role the Protectorate plays, what role you all play, in the Votus-Eridani Network.
“I’ve been reading and watching the news the last few days, eager to catch up on all that I’ve missed. There isn’t much contact with civilisation on the frontier, nor in the Gossamer System. We tend to do things our own way, Inner System worlds be damned. Frontiersmen like myself don’t often give much thought to who is in power in Eridani, we tend not to care who sits on the Monarch’s throne, or who holds the majority of shares in a Corporation, whi
ch political party rules on Tyrillia or where they came from. The frontier has a way of just ignoring these matters. But, these matter to you and so I’ve been asked to say a few words about them.
“The thing is…I haven’t done the things that I’ve done by doing what other people wanted me to do. I’ve done them by doing what I know is right. Your troubles, they are not the troubles of the Votus-Eridani Network. They are the troubles of Eridani System, and Harakiwa System.
“So, I’m not going to lecture you on how to run your nations or your Corporations. I’m not that guy. I’m a soldier and a Frontiersman. I travel a lot, I see the Network and I see the troubles that it has. I see the threats to its people and its way of life. Threats that I know are not being addressed adequately.
“They asked me to speak to you about hope, about peace and cooperation. I don’t see things the way they see them, or the way you see them – your priorities are not mine. I don’t know what I can say to you that will make you forgive and forget the slights done to you, I don’t know the best way to make the bottom line more profitable or even how to run for office. What I do know, is how to deal with a threat.
“That threat is the Ghantri. You all know your history, you all know what happened during the Push. Well, my colleagues and I made another Push of our own. We learnt a few things. Vital things. You saw the Jump Gate to Gossamer shut down, you probably thought it was a good thing, too. It meant you could recall your obligations to the Protectorate Fleet to cover your own assets.
“The Jump Gate, the blockade? It was a farce. A deception perpetuated by the Ghantri war machine. They were never held in check, they simply chose not to break out of their cage that way. They found new technology, old technology repurposed. Their worship of the ghru, the Destroyers, let them look at their methods in a different light.
“Their gods are real. They might not be living, but they are real. The Destroyers are real. Let that thought sink in. Think about it real hard. We have intel that suggests the Ghantri knew of the final resting place of the Destroyer fleets that were defeated seven hundred years ago by the Galactic Protectorate. Our Votus allies will tell you the folly of thinking the Destroyers are gone. They are not, and now our enemies are searching for them. Trying to wake them up from their slumber so they can point their wrath at our Network.
“On top of all this, the Ghantri religious caste have found a way to convert people, like you and I, to their way of thinking. They use addictive narcotics in aerosol form to incite bloodshed and psychotic behaviour, but also loyalty to the Sectis. I also have it on good authority that this narcotic has been making its way through to Eridani for some time. These converts may already be preparing for their masters’ arrival.
“Your enemies are not the people before you tonight. They are distant, but not too distant. They are invisible, but they are with us. Make no mistake, there is a war coming and it is not one of your choosing.
“Deal with your problems how you see fit. I’m not going to tell you how to do that. But keep in mind that without you, without the Votus-Eridani Network, the Protectorate cannot do what they were mandated to do all those centuries ago. That is why the Protectorate cares about your problems. That is why you are here today, to remember that the Protectorate needs you, as much as you need it. The threats we face today may be the undoing of our society tomorrow.
“Thank you for listening to me, and thank you for your time.”
I stepped away from the podium not to thunderous applause, as the Admiralty had wanted, but to the solemn faces of men and women of power deep in thought. I marched from the stage, and as soon as I was out past the curtain, two large men in suits accosted me. I had expected this, but not quite so soon. Frederick was a paranoid man. He must have posted them here in case I pulled a stunt like this.
They dragged me into a service corridor and roughly pushed me against a wall.
“Wait here,” said one of the thugs.
“Go float yourself, meathead,” I spat.
The man just snarled at me and looked about to strike me, when a door halfway down the corridor burst open and an angry Admiral Stirges strode in.
“Do you have any idea about the shit storm you just brewed up?” he yelled.
“These people have a right to know the truth. You wanted more ships? These people have them. You want them to stop fighting? They have a common enemy.”
“They don’t give a shit about distant aliens!”
“You don’t give a shit, sir. There’s a difference.”
He was pacing back and forth, wringing a table napkin in his hands while his knuckles turned white.
“I knew it was a bad idea to have you get up there. I told Jalabir, but he convinced me to give you a chance. Now, look! How am I supposed to fix this?”
Another voice sounded from down the corridor. “You don’t,” said Admiral Jalabir, “This is the exact reason why we wanted him to speak.”
Stirges almost spat in my face. “We wanted hope and inspiration, not scare tactics and bullshit theories about alien agendas!”
“We wanted a genuine voice showing our benefactors the error of their ways,” said Jalabir, calmly, “I think it was an excellent speech.”
“You do?” I said.
“A little unrefined, but I think you got the message across. Until now, most of them have been getting their intelligence about Gossamer from their own sources. They probably know about the Ghantri already, but so long as they don’t think their political enemies know, they think they can get away from their treaty obligations. Now they all know, and they know everyone else knows. That’s a clear mandate to act.”
“Oh, they’ll still fight each other,” said Stirges, “You’re a fool old man if you think some idiotic speech is going to stop that.”
“No, I agree. But now, they’ll think twice about committing everything they’ve got. You, Mr Donovan, may have just saved millions of lives by putting the brakes on this madness for the time being. You’ve bought us time to resolve the turmoil in Eridani.”
I nodded to Jalabir, casting a nervous glance at Stirges.
“Irib’en, you give this man too much credit,” said Stirges, but most of the steam had gone out of him.
“Nonsense, Fred. You just don’t see far enough ahead in this game. Now, release Mr Donovan and return to the dinner. I highly recommend the ko’del’mar eggs – they are magnificent.”
The Orlii turned about and walked back into the dinner.
Stirges turned to me, anger still clear on his features. He straightened out the dress uniform I wore, but as he did he whispered, “You think you’re something special? Commander?”
“No, sir. Although the Admiral sure thinks I am.”
He pulled down sharply on my jacket, then leant back and regarded me. “He won’t be around to protect you forever. Don’t get too comfortable with your new rank. The moment you’re no use to us, you’re gone. Understood?”
“Very clearly. Better hurry, those eggs sound awfully nice.”
I thought he was going to hit me, but I knew the man was a coward. He thought better of it and turned away. “Get him out of here.”
He then stalked out of the corridor. I smiled at the two goons left with me.
As the first one reached for my arm, I drove my knee straight into his stomach. The second one made to grab at me, but I translated further down the corridor and behind him. He spun about, looking for me. By the time he saw where I was, I had my jacket off and the small laser hidden in my forearm had popped out of its hidden recess. I pointed it at his face as he took a step towards me.
“Uh, uh,” I said.
The first man was doubled over, wheezing for air. The other seemed to struggle with what to do. These men were clearly not chosen for their brains.
“I can find my own way out of here. Why don’t you help your friend out down there?”
He kneeled over his comrade, and I turned and strode off. Before long I was exiting the building through the kitche
ns, then I found a shuttle to take me back to my apartment. Never did like official dinners, anyway.
22.
The talks went for several weeks. I was not invited to attend any more official events. Instead, I spent my time visiting the docks to oversee the refit. When it came time to refit the engineering spaces, the device we had found attached to the Linus Drives was questioned again. I decided to talk to Admiral Jalabir about it.
“So, you have an untested, unknown piece of alien technology attached to your main propulsion,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “And you want to leave it there?”
“Yes, sir. I think it’s one of their Jump Drives.”
“That’s a big leap of logic.”
“It makes sense, though. When we left Ambrose Station, an enemy warship captain confronted us. When they realised they couldn’t catch us, he blurted out something to do with being banished from the fleet. I don’t think the Restitution was barred from the exodus to the nebula because of technical problems, I think they were left behind for disciplinary reasons or lack of performance. Add this to the report from Captains Cooper and Garner – their encounter with the Calliope Frigate…it’s not so big a leap, sir.”
“Okay, let’s just say for now that I’m willing to entertain the notion. What’s stopping me from tearing it out and learning all I can from it? Wouldn’t that be the more prudent course of action?”
“It would, but I want to make you a deal.”
“A deal? Mr Donovan, we’re not on the frontier here. We’re not businessmen negotiating a bargain.”
“Sorry, sir. Poor choice of words. I want to save you the trouble of reverse engineering the drive and give you the designs already worked out. I can test this one, confirm the designs are sound, and you get to start building your own fleet of Jump capable ships.”
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