Books One to Three Omnibus (Armada Wars)

by R. Curtis Venture

  “I’m not singing her praises, Occre. I just said she’s not that bad. She’s not the ice bitch people make her out to be. Half the time the unpopular policies coming out of Imperial City are down to the council, not her. And quite frankly, she’s a keener tactician than most of those uniform-fillers who just take up space in Fleet Command.”

  “Well, that may all be true,” Brant said. “But whatever she’s really like, it’s not helping matters out in the colonies right now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Eyes and Ears have been registering hundreds of reports of civil unrest across the outer colonies,” Brant said. “It’s odd — mostly, the causes seem to vary from planet to planet. It’s as if these issues have been bubbling away beneath the surface for a long time, and all chosen now to come to a head.”

  “I don’t like that at all,” said Caden. “It seems too… neat.”

  “There’s a common theme on some of those worlds; they think that Command will order a general retreat to the inner systems and abandon them all in the face of an enemy invasion. The irony is that most of those worlds have little strategic value, and there’s no evidence that the enemy has any interest in them.”

  “What’s being done about it?”

  “As far as I know, military reinforcement of civic security. I’m pretty sure some serious numbers of MAGA assets have been deployed on quite a few planets. Serrofus Major has definitely received a tonne of them; there are probably other worlds with our own boots on the ground by now.”

  “Keep an eye on that situation, Occre. I don’t like it one bit.”

  “Will do.”

  “If you can, use your own sources. I’m not convinced that the Eyes and Ears ‘official reports’ will be all they’re supposed to be.”

  “Oh right: so I’m not allowed to criticise Shards, but you can have a pop at Eyes and Ears?”

  “We both know that Eyes and Ears plays its own game,” said Caden. “So yeah — I’m not overly fond of them.”

  Brant looked dejected.

  “You’re okay though.”

  • • •

  “From where did this footage originate?”

  “We still don’t know, Majesty. My profound apologies, but the source has not yet been identified.”

  A dreadfully long pause followed, and Caden could imagine the sweat beading on the forehead of whatever functionary was presently staring at the feet of the Empress. Such a silence could shatter wills and turn the tide of opinion: many times had he seen as much for himself.

  “We are most concerned by the reports from the outer worlds.”

  “Of course, Majesty.” A slight quaver in the voice now. “The colonies are understandably perturbed—”

  “And that must be recognised. We require Fleet Command to reinforce the defensive patrols of every world where this… fear has taken hold.”

  Caden waited for a reply, but a new silence betrayed an inner struggle as the functionary wrapped his mind around the numbers that would be involved in fulfilling that command.

  “Majesty, we simply don’t have the ships. Fleet lost many task forces along the Viskr border, and have yet to account for some of them.”

  “We are aware of our current strength.”

  A distinct shift in Her Majesty’s tone brought a smile to his lips. Here she was, the woman he knew. Not merely a symbol of power divested to human form, but a true strategist, in more ways than one.

  “We already have three-dozen new battleship frames under construction at Hepira shipyard, yes? Triple the workforce. Bring workers from Ramm Stallahad if you can, and look farther afield if you must. Disregard any previous allocations, and send those ships to the fleets with the greatest losses.

  “And take the same approach at Imiron. Noroconte shipyard is under capacity, despite Commodore Odrigan’s claims. Those fabricators must run constantly. Every dry dock, every assembly bay; have them filled.”

  “The resource demands alone…”

  “The Empire is replete with resources. Our xtryllium stockpiles are healthy, are they not?”

  “Yes, Majesty, as far as I know.”

  “Then we expect no delays. It is surely doubtful that any other material will be so scarce.”

  “As you say, Majesty.”

  Footsteps approached the antechamber, and Caden tried to adopt an air of disinterest. He stared at his fingernails, looked up absently as the functionary rounded the corner, and smiled.

  He need not have bothered. The man passed him by quickly, wearing a frown on his face, muttering under his breath and wringing his hands. He did not so much as glance at Caden.

  “The Empress will see you now, Shard Caden.”

  The Chamberlain had evidently followed a few paces behind the functionary, but he moved so quietly that Caden had not noticed he too had entered the antechamber.

  He followed the Chamberlain into the audience hall.

  “Many days have passed since last we met, Shard Caden.”

  The voice came from the far end of the hall, loud and steady. He walked towards it.

  “I have been as you have willed, Majesty: a shard in the mind of your enemies.”

  “It is our great fortune to have your allegiance.”

  “No, Majesty: it is my great fortune to give it.”

  He stopped just outside touching distance of her, and knelt.

  “Leave us,” she said to the Chamberlain.

  “Your Majesty.”

  She waited until the thin, dour-looking man had left, then turned her eyes back to Caden.

  “Well… That’s the formalities done with. You can get up now if you want.”

  Caden rose to his feet.

  The Empress stood before a large holo which displayed a bafflingly complex logistical map of the local arms of the galaxy. She held her hands clasped lightly before her, and smiled softly as he stood. Bright green eyes, impossibly straight silvery hair, and a dress of white and green silks: she was, as she always seemed to be, uniquely presented.

  “It is good to see you again, Elm Caden. It has been far too long.”

  “As you say, Majesty. I must apologise for the extent of my absence.”

  “Nonsense. You have nothing to apologise for on that front: you have been away from here at our own command.”

  “Your Majesty is too kind.”

  “Elm Caden,” she said, “We brought you here to speak plainly with us. You do not need to address us as ‘Majesty’ every time you open your mouth.”

  “As you wish.”

  “That’s better. Now, we assume you have a raft of dire bulletins for us?”

  Caden squared his shoulders. “Yes… many, in fact. I’m afraid the situation out there may be deteriorating rapidly.”

  “It is,” she said. “You can be sure of that. Unfortunately our response to this crisis has been a little slow.”

  “Our response being… your response, or the response of the Empire in general?”

  “I’m sorry; it is a difficult habit to break. Here in the palace certain standards are expected. I meant ‘our’ as in the collective effort of Fleet, and Eyes and Ears. Not to mention your fellow Shards.”

  “Other Shards are assigned to investigate this crisis?”

  “Some, yes.”

  Her hands unclasped for a split-second, and she flashed two fingers then four without altering her stance.

  “Their missions are, of course, not to be discussed.”

  While she spoke he nodded almost imperceptibly, indicating that he had understood the message. Code Two-Four: possibility of eavesdropping.

  “Of course.”

  “But where are my manners? Perhaps you would prefer to sit down while we talk. You must have had a tiring journey.”

  She stepped away from the holo and gestured for him to follow her. Caden walked behind her, under the white arches of the vaunted hall, and she led him to an open doorway which revealed a cloistered courtyard.

  She stopped to remove he
r footwear, and he saw she was wearing only a pair of soft evening slippers. She caught him watching as she slid them off, and smiled.

  “I like to walk barefoot on the grass,” she said.

  He followed her out across white paving stones, then onto a lush, dark green lawn. She remained silent until they reached the furniture which had been set out near the centre of the grass.

  “I have no doubt whatsoever that anything we said in there will be public knowledge throughout the city by the time the sun goes down.”

  “Espionage?” Caden asked.

  “No, just nosiness,” said the Empress. “My court may well be a pastiche of times long gone, but the people in it behave as though every whisper they overhear might elevate them skyward.”

  “I see,” said Caden. “It would be remiss of me not to advise you that espionage is currently a very real possibility.”

  “Oh, I had heard. These ‘Rasas’ you have discovered. Tell me about them.”

  “They seem to be human, although I have also encountered Viskr exhibiting the same condition. They are… not themselves. That’s the best way I can describe them. They are under the control of an external agent.”

  “And who might that agent be?”

  “I don’t yet know. I’m not even sure that ‘who’ is the appropriate term. ‘What’ might be more accurate.”

  “I am told you encountered it in person, on Meccrace Prime?”

  “Yes. It was certainly an experience.” He shifted in his seat, feeling the small, healing wounds where claws had tried to open his abdomen. “Whatever it was, it reeked of malevolence.”

  “This is not, then, simply a matter of a soured first contact.”

  “No. It is — without doubt — an invasion.”

  “The ships were a bit of a clue, I suppose.”

  “They were indeed.”

  The Empress stared at him with those mesmerising emerald eyes. Had he not conversed with her before, he might have found it intimidating. But he knew that somewhere behind those vivid irises she was marshalling the various mechanisms of her great mind.

  “It will not succeed,” she said at last. “We will learn its nature, and its secrets, and we will undo it.”

  “I am encouraged by your confidence.”

  “This thing attacking us,” she said, “will do its best to shatter that confidence. But it will not. We will discover its weaknesses, and its aims, and we will destroy it.”

  “Ottomas Endures,” said Caden.

  “Exactly so,” said the Empress. “Until the Last Breath.”

  “Which reminds me: I am still without a counterpart.”

  “Yes, I have been giving that some thought,” she said. “You will of course be aware that we have a number of counterparts who — thanks to your old friend Maber Castigon — are now without Shards.”

  “Are there any suitable matches?”

  “I will let you be the judge of that. I’m afraid several have made the decision to return to their MAGA units. Failure to protect the life of a Shard still carries something of a stigma.”

  “Are you sure you want to leave it entirely to me? Traditionally, proposing candidates has always been the privilege of the Throne.”

  “I think we both know that I am anything other than traditional. In any case, I have the utmost confidence in your ability to assess the candidates for yourself. You have always been excellent at making such decisions.”

  “I appreciate the opportunity,” said Caden.

  “Of course you do. Now, I think it probably wise to inform you ahead of time that we are expecting a very unusual guest on Earth.”

  “Oh?”

  “The Viskr Junta is sending a representative,” said the Empress. “I don’t need to tell you what an unexpected turn of affairs that is.”

  “It certainly is.”

  “I thought it strange at first, that they would offer terms so many years after the Perseus conflict. But when I heard what they had to say it all made sense. Horrible, horrible sense.”

  “What did they tell you?” Caden felt as though his scalp had tightened.

  “Their empire is on the verge of collapse,” she said. “What has been happening in our territory is nothing compared to what has happened in theirs. They are desperate, and have been for months. I’m afraid Operation Seawall has crippled their defences, to the point where they can no longer hold their key star systems.”

  “They’re also under attack?”

  “Dreadships,” she said. “Lots of them.”

  “Worlds,” he said. “I had no idea.”

  “Nobody did, and it’s their own fault for being so aloof. They have in fact acknowledged as much.”

  “So are we now at peace?”

  “We are. The accords were drawn hastily, but they are very fair. Considering, of course, that we now owe the Viskr a debt of blood.”

  “Do we though?”

  “We did attack them,” the Empress said. “You know as well as I that it was unwarranted.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “The Perseus conflict was done with a generation ago. I can and will only consider what has occurred in the past two weeks.”

  “As you wish, Majesty.”

  “The Viskr envoy will be here soon. I gather that he is somewhat equivalent to yourself.”

  “A henchman of the Junta’s secret police, you mean?”

  “Something of that nature. Perhaps not quite like you, then.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I doubt this will mean anything to you, but in our language his name is Toord Sylk Caecald.”

  “Surprisingly, not a name I have heard before.”

  “Quite. Oh…”

  He followed her gaze and saw that the Chamberlain now hovered by the doorway to the hall.

  “I suppose I had best slip back into character,” she said.

  — 02 —

  Scapegoats

  Groath Betombe sighed at his holo, flicked idly through to the end of the information which had been sent to him, and thumped his fist on the desk.

  A formal hearing.

  He had expected it, after being relieved of his command by Fleet Admiral Bel-Messari. There had not really been any other possible outcome from the moment his senior had arranged the preliminary meeting with Betombe. Bel-Messari was notorious for his propensity to stamp down on the ranks beneath him.

  It was the wording which so annoyed Betombe.

  ‘Gross negligence in failing to attempt meaningful communication with an unknown intelligence.’

  This would be, thought Betombe, the unknown intelligence which had devastated the orbital defences at Blacktree, and had been manoeuvring in the atmosphere already when it was forced to face a military response.

  ‘Dereliction of the standing naval duty to safeguard an Imperial colony, its infrastructure, and its population.’

  Right. Because anyone could have predicted with ease that the Viskr would fire off their nukes at Blacktree — after having assisted the Imperial cordon in driving off the intruder — and nobody had lifted a finger to stop them. It was also interesting that Bel-Messari had mentioned the population last.

  ‘Abject failure to effectively plan the naval operation designated Seawall, and negligence in ensuring that all commanders were properly briefed on the enemy threat level.’

  That last one took the proverbial biscuit. Betombe had been briefed by Commander Operations using intelligence supplied by Eyes and Ears, and endowed with the latest surveillance telemetry from the Perseus listening posts. What other materials could he have acquired to ensure the armada knew what they were up against?

  Betombe thumped the desk again, and uttered a barely coherent grunt of disgust.

  He clicked his link, and instructed his holo to place a call to Aker Santani. Misery loves company, he thought.

  “Admiral Betombe? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Captain Santani, good afternoon. I thought I would see how you
are getting on with your… problems. As you probably know by now, I too have fallen foul of Fleet Command. We are, as they say, in the same boat.”

  “Things have actually started to look somewhat better for me since Meccrace Prime. Not that I’m pleased about it, of course.”

  “Of course,” said Betombe.

  “What do they have planned for you, Admiral? Do you know yet?”

  “I’ve been summoned before a triumvirate,” he said. “That just about sums it up.”

  “Oh dear. Do you know who will be on the panel?”

  “Not yet, but I think there’s a good chance Bel-Messari will include himself.”

  “Surely not?” Santani looked amazed. “He’s the one who impeached you. He’s not exactly going to be impartial.”

  “Of course he won’t be,” Betombe said. “But I don’t think a little fact like that will stop him from extracting every bit of pleasure from something as fun as a disciplinary.”

  “Well if there is anything I can do or say to help, please let me know. My experience will corroborate yours. I too encountered one of the alien ships you fought at Blacktree, so I know just how imposing they are.”

  “I read the report.” Betombe shook his head. “Not very happy with you, are they?”

  “You could say that. But then I’m not very happy with myself, either. Hammer could have been spared.”

  “You say that, but I saw one of those things with my own eyes. Fought it, with lots of assistance, and hardly scratched it before it left the system. I don’t see how a lone battleship could have escaped that situation unscathed.”

  “It relieves me to hear you say that,” Santani said. “Yet… as it will be with you, the people deciding my fate have not been in positions of actual command for a long time. I doubt they will really appreciate the tactical position I was in.”

  “Please don’t misinterpret me, Captain,” said Betombe. “I’m not saying I think you came up with the best solution, not by a long shot.”

  Her face fell.

  “Having said that,” he continued, “I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer to the predicament you faced. In my view, had you chosen a different option, things could have turned out much worse.”