Wreaths of Empire

by Andrew M. Seddon

  Jade turned for the door.

  “Lafrey.” Maricic arrested her.

  “Yes, Member?”

  “Good luck. For all of us.”

  “Thank you, Member.”

  Lt. Milford Fromberg, commander of scoutship SV Hawking, wriggled against the restraints that bound him to a chair set in a small, featureless room in a restricted area on Covenant.

  He’d been surprised to receive a summons to the negotiation center. The pair of armed Political guards who’d met him upon landing had been even more of a surprise. As had been the way they’d bundled him quickly and efficiently down a deserted service corridor to this room.

  Then, the questioning had begun.

  “Answers,” demanded the bulky, sandy-haired man who’d introduced himself as Political Major Blair Iverson. “Don’t force me to wreck your mind with a mind-probe.”

  “Wh—what do you want to know?”

  “You brought Commander Lafrey to Covenant,” Iverson stated.

  The restraints gouged into Fromberg’s skin, but didn’t yield.

  “It was a routine transportation. I had no idea that the Political Bureau was interested in Commander Lafrey—”

  Iverson thrust his face close to Fromberg’s. “What else happened?”

  Fromberg licked his lips. “There was a distress call…”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Fromberg nodded. “We received it in Roessler. Commander Lafrey had me transition to realspace, and when we found the source was close by, had me take the ship over. She boarded a half-destroyed scoutship. The pilot was dying—”

  “Did you go on board?”

  Jade Lafrey’s words came to him. Don’t say a word about this. Not to anyone. Not for any reason.

  “She didn’t ask me to-”

  “Did you?” Iverson tapped a finger on Fromberg’s forehead. “I’m not a patient man, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes.” There. It was out.

  “Did you hear what they said?” Iverson asked.

  “No, sir. She made me leave while she was talking to him.”

  “You heard nothing?”

  “No, sir.”

  “What else can you tell me?”

  “Nothing—”

  Iverson sighed. “Have you ever seen anyone who’s been mind-probed?”

  Fromberg shuddered. Despite Lafrey’s counsel to him to say nothing, the thought of being left a mental derelict was unbearable—

  “He seemed to know her.”

  “Did he give her anything?”

  “Not that I saw, sir.”

  “Then?”

  “That was it. The body was buried in space, and we proceeded to Covenant.”

  Blair Iverson took two steps away before turning towards Fromberg. He stabbed a finger in the lieutenant’s face. Fromberg flinched.

  “You saw nothing else, you heard nothing else?”

  Fromberg hesitated and looked away from the Political major. Iverson took a swift step and grasped Fromberg by his uniform collar. He jerked him forward. Fromberg’s neck snapped back. The magnetic shackles dug into his wrists.

  “What? What else is there?”

  “I—I can’t—”

  Iverson shook him again. “WHAT?”

  Fromberg blinked back tears. He wished that Iverson would just leave him alone…But the mind probe—he couldn’t endure that…“I—she told me not to tell-”

  “You can tell me, though, can’t you?” The third man in the room spoke for the first time, calmly, reassuringly, from his position sitting behind and just barely in Fromberg’s visual range. He gestured to Iverson, who let go of Fromberg and stepped back, folding his arms across his chest.

  Fromberg craned his neck, trying to see the other man better. “And then are we done?” he mewed.

  “Then we’re done. Tell me, Lieutenant.”

  Fromberg gulped air. “I came—I came onto the bridge while she was talking, and saw him…He was wearing a robe—Sir, it was Gara’nesh made, I’m sure of it.”

  “And Commander Lafrey told you not to mention this.”

  “She said for my own sake, not to mention it, sir.”

  “That was wise of her. A pity you didn’t follow her advice.”

  Iverson spoke again: “She knows. Why isn’t she saying?”

  “That’s what we need to find out.” The third man stood up. “Thank you, Lieutenant Fromberg. You’ve been most cooperative."

  “Then I can go now, Admiral?” Fromberg asked.

  “By all means.” Fleet Admiral Lewis Gellner gestured to Iverson. “Get rid of this weakling, Iverson. He knows too much.”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  Fromberg’s throat spasmed. “Admiral—!”

  “You can’t be serious, Jade!” Kuchera protested that evening. Jade had found him in his quarters working on the biography. “Good heavens, you’ve only been here for three or four days, and you’re leaving already?”

  “Tell me. I”m not thrilled either. But what am I supposed to do—disobey an order straight from a Central Committee member?” Jade circled Kuchera’s small room. It was a duplicate of hers on a reduced scale. “It was a matter that came up and Maricic told me to handle it personally.”

  Kuchera pursed his lips. “Do you still do field work?”

  “Not normally. Sector Intelligence Commanders rapidly become desk jockeys.”

  Kuchera studied the ground at his feet. “When do you leave?”

  “First thing in the morning. There are some inquiries I should pursue here first, and I have to make sure Emmers is fully briefed for my absence.”

  “Maricic didn’t give you a lot of warning.”

  “That’s life, Troy.”

  “Some life.”

  She squeezed his shoulder. “It will only be a few days, with any sort of luck.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  She left his room with a breezy ‘see you in the morning’ that he returned with less enthusiasm.

  It was only as she entered her own quarters to prepare for bed that Jade realized Troy hadn’t offered her some sign of affection. She missed it.

  And yet somehow, she felt relieved, as well.

  SIX

  Jade finished stowing the last of her essentials into her small pale-blue and black service carryall. She’d become accustomed years ago to the vagaries of field operations—not to mention the Navy’s sometimes unexpected personnel deployments. She packed almost without conscious thought, the routines well established: travel light, carry nothing incriminating, never go unarmed. She slid her Linar 15 into its concealed pocket in her uniform, where the weapon’s slight bulge was virtually unnoticeable.

  She violated one principle and brought the original of Nate Watford’s file. More secure methods of carrying the wafer existed—a transport cube with photonic access code; melded onto DNA and inserted into subcutaneous carrier-cells; encoded in microfibers in her uniform—but this was convenient, and the file could be destroyed rapidly by a linkage sequence from her visual implant if needed.

  She straightened and touched her commlink. “Neilson.”

  Her pilot answered seconds later. “Yes, Commander?”

  “I’ll be ready to leave shortly, Lieutenant. Please have my shuttle ready and alert docking control.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  She made a final check to be certain she hadn’t forgotten anything. The only thing she lacked was a partner.

  As expected, Rick Emmers had protested at being left behind. In all the time she’d known him, he’d never learned to conceal his disappointment.

  “I need you here, Rick,” she’d said. “It’s more important that you monitor the surveillance reports.”

  His youthful face crumpled. “But ma’am-”

  “Here. I need someone I can rely on. If urgent matters arise that pertain to Windward, call Commander Howells. Contact me only if neither of you feels comfortable handling it. Anything related to the situation on Covenant take straight
to Admiral Stalker. With any sort of luck I should be back in a few days.”

  “If you’re going into enemy space, ma’am—”

  “Enemy space?” Jade snorted. “What gave you that crazy idea? I’m going to attempt to verify Nate Watford’s information, that’s all. You won’t find me waging a single-handed strike against a military weapons center.”

  The concern on Emmers’s features had been so comical she’d been hard pressed not to laugh. “Just keep your eyes and ears open, Rick. I’ll be back.”

  He’d grudgingly accepted her orders.

  She shoved one last item into the carryall and sealed it, then slipped a turquoise and silver bracelet onto her left wrist.

  The annunciator chimed. She turned to face the door. “Enter.”

  A sprightly figure sauntered in.

  Jade smiled. “Hi, Troy. Coming to see me off?”

  “You haven’t changed your mind? You’re really leaving?” Kuchera patted her carryall.

  “Orders, Troy. Not my mind to change.”

  “I’d hoped maybe you’d decided it was work you could do from here.”

  “Nope.”

  Kuchera slung a vivid red carryall up by hers, onto her bed.

  “What’s that for?” Jade demanded.

  “I thought I’d come along.”

  “You’re not serious!”

  “Perfectly.”

  Jade exhaled loudly. She put her hands on her hips. “The answer is no.”

  “Why? You’re only information-gathering, right?”

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Then who’s your backup?” He cocked his head to one side. “Don’t tell me you’re going this alone. Isn’t that against regs?”

  “It’s a highly sensitive assignment—”

  “All the more reason.”

  Her irritation level rose. “Listen to me, Troy Kuchera. One person has already died. I’m not risking you.”

  “Life is a risk. Love is a risk. It doesn’t matter if you’re poor humans like us or if you’re God Almighty. There’s no escaping it. Look, Jade,” Kuchera continued, grasping her shoulders, “I want to share this with you. If it’s dangerous, then I want to be by your side.”

  “You’re not trained for Intelligence work, Troy. You’ve spent your service time in secure offices on safe planets where the most dangerous threat you had to worry about was a spelling mistake reaching your admiral’s attention. On a real mission, chances are you’d get yourself killed.”

  His jaw muscles strained. “I can handle myself. I went through basic training. I can shoot straight.”

  “You don’t have the aptitude. You’re too…nice.” Jade forced herself to be calm. “I appreciate the gesture. But chivalry doesn’t count for anything in intelligence work.”

  “Nothing changes, does it?” he said harshly. “Nice guys finish last.”

  She lowered her voice, putting as much emotion into the words as she could. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

  “What about to myself?” His hands still on her shoulders, Kuchera circled behind her, talking into her left ear. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’re not the only one who wants to fight the corruption of the Hegemony? Maybe it’s hard for you to believe, but I’m sick of churning out reams of propaganda pieces and politically correct info-blurbs. It nauseates me, the garbage I have to write! Just for once, I’d like to do something worthwhile.”

  “So stay here and do it.”

  “I can’t! Do you know how frustrating it is to want to make a contribution, and have everybody tell you no? I could even use this bio to promote peace, but will the Politicals allow it? No way in this galaxy.”

  His hands dug into her muscles.

  “Do you think you’re the first person I’ve asked? I know there are underground movements, but I can’t sign on.” His bitterness strained her nerves as he mimicked, “Sorry, Troy, you’re not trained. You’re too naive. You’re not devious enough. You haven’t got the brains—”

  “I never said that!”

  “You’re too nice.” The word dripped with loathing. “It hurts, Jade.”

  “I’m sorry, Troy.” Jade remained rigid.

  “Help me, Jade. Let me do something with my life that really matters.”

  “This is an official Naval Intelligence mission performed on Member Maricic’s order. It has nothing to do with any underground movement,” she said stiffly. Kuchera was probing too closely…much too closely. She was totally convinced that he had nothing to do with IID, but even so…

  Kuchera dropped his hands. “Please, Jade. I’m begging.”

  “Haven’t you understood a word I’ve said?” Jade swallowed the salty taste of blood from where her teeth gouged her lip. She clenched her fists by her side. “You’re not coming! That’s an order, Lieutenant Kuchera.”

  Kuchera spun her to face him. His face reddened. “I am not your underling, Jade Lafrey!” His voice rose. “Don’t treat me as one!”

  Jade recoiled. “I’m not—”

  “You are! What can happen if I sit on board Starwind and watch? Nobody will know I’m there, besides you. It’s probably safer than staying here, for Pete’s sake. Goodness knows what the Gara’nesh might do. Or what I might write—”

  She hissed, “Don’t be stupid!”

  He shrugged. “Accidents happen.”

  She glared.

  “I won’t ask to go groundside,” he said. “I won’t ask anything else. I’ll be there as backup, just in case.”

  “No.”

  “What harm is there in that?” Kuchera’s breath whistled through flared nostrils. “Well?”

  Jade’s chest heaved. Her eyes locked with Kuchera’s. She stared him down for what seemed an eternity.

  Kuchera broke the tense silence. He spoke quietly, almost sadly. “Do you know what your problem is, Jade Lafrey? You think you’re God’s little pet.”

  She gasped. “I think no such thing!”

  “Why is Jade Lafrey alive when Gregory Hotchkiss is dead? When others have disappeared without a trace, when—”

  “Enough!” She put her hands to her eyes. “Troy, don’t—”

  “Jade has a little private God who’s there for her convenience. A God that only cares for Jade Lafrey and who can’t handle watching over more than one person at a time.”

  “That’s ridiculous! I—”

  “You can trust this God of yours with yourself, but not anyone else. Poor old Troy is among those who’s left out.”

  “That’s the most idiotic thing of many idiotic things I’ve heard you say!” She let her hands fall. “Tell you what. You stay here and argue religion with yourself. I’ve got a mission to perform—”

  With sudden gentleness Kuchera cradled the back of her head with his right hand. “You’ve been blaming yourself for years for things that weren’t your fault. What Gregory did, when he signed up with…with whomever, wasn’t your fault. It was his choice, not yours. Paul leaving you was his decision, not yours. He ran his own life. You have to let go of this imaginary guilt, Jade. You can’t direct other people’s lives or make their decisions for them.”

  She was weakening; she could feel her resolve crumbling. Taking Troy along was madness; but given the tense situation on Covenant, was it any safer there? What if he did, inadvertently, put a foot wrong? She tried one last tack. “If anything was to happen to you, because of something I did…I couldn’t live with myself. I can’t take any more pain, Troy.” She twisted away from him, faced the wall. “Do you think I like this? That I want to keep you out? Even Admiral Chadwick—an ice-block if ever there was one—had someone to love him. And I can’t! Do you know how that feels?”

  “No,” he said softly, then sighed. “I have the opposite problem. How to convince somebody that she’s cared for, no matter what she thinks.” He stroked her hair. “Let me come, Jade,” he pleaded. “There won’t be a problem.”

  Jade stood still for a long moment. Her breathing rasped in
her ear, her pulse hammered, her thoughts tumbled. Say no, and he might leave you; say yes, and if something happens…Oh, God… Could he be any safer than on Starwind with her?

  Slowly, she turned until she fronted him. “Does it mean that much to you?”

  “Yes. It does.”

  Jade raised a finger. “Conditions. I give the orders, you obey them. I say it, you do it. If you have any stupid thoughts of heroism or self-sacrifice, get them out of your head.”

  Kuchera nodded.

  “You will sit on the ship. You will not stir from it. You will not do anything without permission.”

  Kuchera grinned. He opened his mouth.

  Jade forestalled him. “No jokes, Troy.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “You will plant yourself in a corner and work on your biography and that’s all.” She turned away and slung her carryall over her shoulder. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll never forgive you. Or myself.”

  “Member Maricic, I protest!” First Admiral Charles Stalker smacked a fist on the table. “Jade Lafrey is a sector commander. She should not have been assigned to field duty without my permission!”

  Georgia Maricic regarded the fist for a long moment until Stalker uncurled his fingers and removed it.

  “Remember whose quarters you’re in, Admiral,” she replied icily. She remained seated, letting Stalker stand. Verbal sparring with Stalker could sometimes be enjoyable. Today she wasn’t in the mood. “Is that all?”

  “Jade Lafrey is an excellent officer and a foremost expert on the Gara’nesh who has prepared extensively for these negotiations. Her expertise could prove invaluable. As commander, she should not be undertaking such a mission personally. There are other agents that could be assigned.”

  Maricic leaned back, crossed her legs. “Iverson can provide the expert advice. Lafrey’s abilities are needed on this assignment.”

  “Isn’t it a task for a full operative team?”

  “Isn’t what a task?”

  “Member,” Stalker said, his tone pleading, “we both know that Lafrey—”

  “Is pursuing an assignment of which you know nothing at the moment.” Maricic enunciated each word with cold precision. “And it will remain that way until I say otherwise. Is that understood?”