“Even so, at this rate we’re doomed.” Dohkfoo tried talking him down with a calming voice. “You heard them, didn’t you? The Abhs have no intention whatsoever of leaving the women behind. So what use is killing the lad? The outcome won’t be pretty, that much is certain. Come on, let’s just cut our losses. I’m going to call them and say we changed our minds. I trust you’ll let me?”
The other men in the room traded uneasy glances. Uneasiest of all was the traitor guard. Jint considered that a bit of cosmic justice. Furthermore, the situation was taking a turn for the favorable. Only one man in the whole room wanted to kill Jint, and that man seemed at quite the loss. Inadvertently, a self-assured smile crept over Jint’s face, but he made sure to smother it immediately — if he got caught looking as though he had composure to spare, they might mistake it as a mocking smirk, causing the number of people who wanted him dead to spike. For whatever reason, this landworld housed an impressive crowd of hot tempers.
“No.” Anguson proved a stubborn mule indeed.
“But why?” Dohkfoo grumbled. “You don’t have any real reason to resist the idea! I fail to believe you honestly mean to rehearse your own stay in God’s hell. At least, I’m not having it, you hear me? There is no ‘God’s hell,’ anyway; there couldn’t possibly be. An Abh hell, on the other hand, probably does exist. If you ask me, their kind is plenty inclined to create one.”
“No,” repeated Anguson.
“For heavens’ sake!” Dohkfoo didn’t hide his irritation. “Listen, I’m going to have them cease fire. Nothing good will come of kicking up any more of a fuss out there. I despise the counter-productive.”
“I can’t let you do that,” said Anguson. “Now that it’s come to this, we just have to use force. Let’s join forces and prevent them from hauling off the girls.”
“I have no intention of doing any such thing,” said Dohkfoo. “If that’s what you want to do, do it yourselves. But I’ll warn you to watch your backs.”
“Well what do you know, now there is a reason to keep the crybaby hostage, Dohkfoo.” With those words, Anguson’s fingers were suddenly around Jint’s neck. “Cease the fighting, and he dies. And to top it all off, I’ll tell the world you did it. That way you can really savor that pretend ‘hell’ of theirs.”
Jint tried his damnedest to pull off those logs Anguson called arms, but they failed to budge.
“And what reason have I to roll over and let that false charge slide?” Dohkfoo’s eyes narrowed. “I have plenty of men who will attest to the truth. You’ll be the only one making a pit stop at the ‘pretend hell’ on your way to the real one. That is, if the ‘real one’ even exists.”
Jint’s consciousness was beginning to fade, but he managed to open his eyes a smidgen to take in the room. How peculiar, that even though the two head honchos were now in open conflict, the inmates were merely looking on, as though amused by some droll spectacle.
“Fine, then I’ll be waiting for you in the real hell. And I look forward to seeing if the Abh are gonna hear out your explanations.”
“Urgh... That’s playing dirty...”
“You could do the same, if you didn’t fear death, Dohkfoo.”
“You’re a coward, just like the rest of us, Anguson,” choked out Jint. He knew full well saying that was digging his hole even deeper, but he couldn’t help giving him a piece of his mind. “If you had any courage, you’d accept the consequences of your actions.”
“Oho, so the little baby does have some balls. Mouthing off to me, the one and only Anguson.” The man tightened his grip around Jint’s throat. “But what I hate a hell of a lot more than a coward is a snot-nosed smart ass.”
“Good god, man!” Dohkfoo shook his head hotly. “You think I’m going to go along with your idiotic posturing? It’s suicide! Now, let the young man go.” Dohkfoo then addressed Anguson’s lackeys: “How long do you intend to follow this man?”
“Shut your trap; all you are’s a gutless weasel!” spat one of the inmates.
Then, the bangs of several bullets ripped through the room.
The hell’s going on in here? Such was the last thought Jint registered, in his frustration, before blacking out.
Chapter 8: Daimdh Ablïarser (Abliar Tears)
The patrol ship Lachcaü had now entered the Countdom of Lohbnahss, taking twenty-one of Hunter Fleet 1’s ships with it. They were thought to be about 2,100 cédlairh away from the enemy fleet. Said fleet was making a beeline for them, but they still had just under twenty-four hours before the enemy reached the Countdom. And in that time, another eleven ships would join their fighting force. The Byrec Casna Blaigr Glagamh (Hunter Fleet 1 Command Center) was scheduled to wait in place until right before the enemy arrived.
This was no different from the usual modus operandi — they had repeatedly squatted on areas until mere moments before potential contact with the enemy’s projected path. The enemy fleet was slow, so Fleet 1, composed entirely of patrol ships, could easily outdistance it. It was Fleet 1’s mission to closely observe the enemy as they approached, and then beat a hasty retreat when they were on the cusp of battle.
The enemy had presumably grown tired of this (and who could blame them?), for at one point, they split into patrol ship-centric and assault ship-centric corps and flew in firing. But even then, Fleet 1 wouldn’t engage, and the incident ended with feeding the belligerent ships some mines, leaving the Abh contingent unscathed to this hour.
As far as Chief of Staff Cfadiss was concerned, Commander-in-Chief Sporr had taken quite a liking to this endeavor. When she was in fine spirits, all of the typical problems were as good as absent. Kilo-Commander Cfadiss felt relaxed in his Chief of Staff’s Seat.
“Fleet spotted!” reported the Communications Officer.
Tension gripped the Commander’s Bridge. Cfadiss rose to his feet and gauged her expression. But on the surface, she didn’t seem the least bit fazed. She remained in her bespoke chaise, her smile as bewitching as ever.
“They’re likely allies,” the officer continued. “Ship cross-referencing complete. Two Cetairh-class ships, one Saith, one Rogrh.”
“Whatever are they up to?” Sporr raised her blazing blue eyebrows. “They should have received their orders to withdraw ages ago. Who is their commander?”
“Judging by the fact that it’s supply ship-centric, I believe a liege agent or magistrate might be in charge.”
“Okay, then who is it?”
Cfadiss pulled the info from the terminal, and felt a mite lightheaded at the revelation: “The Lady Agent is Her Highness the Viscountess of Parhynh.”
“At a guess, I’ve seen the little princess around ten times,” said Sporr, her pointer and middle fingers on her brow. “One of those times, I encountered her when I oughtn’t have. And this will be our second inopportune meeting.”
“You two must be bound by fate,” said Cfadiss, still nursing his vertigo.
“That’s enough of that talk. Now, put me through to Fïac Cfarér.”
Her orders were actioned at once, but they had to wait five minutes for the other end of the call to pick up. Finally, the Viscountess of Parhynh appeared on screen, saluting silently. It was the military salute, the sight of which spurred a faint smile upon Sporr’s lips.
“Deca-Commander Abliar,” said Sporr, calling her by her rank within the Star Forces. “What are you doing here? The enemy fleet is pointed straight for this territory-nation. They’ll be here without a shadow of a doubt. I bid you flee at once.”
Paradoxically, Lafier’s wording was unsuited to addressing a superior: “I can’t yet, Archduchess.”
“You can’t yet? Could you please explain yourself?” Sporr didn’t censure Lafier for her language, but she maintained the bearing of a superior.
And so the Royal Princess went into it. Sporr listened without interrupting, but her temples gradually began twitching.
“In other words, Deca-Commander Abliar, the gist is that this landworld is full of criminal
s, and not only must we relocate them all, we have to do so before our temporary withdrawal. And you, in your kindness, would listen to their pleas.”
“It’s not just criminals. There are guards, too.”
“Either way, we’re talking about land folk. Might you be fussing over a landworld too much, Deca-Commander?”
“That may be true. But I’ve made a promise.”
“I see. Promises are important.” Sporr lightly tapped her command staff against her forehead. “But as I mentioned earlier, the enemy will arrive in the midst of the boarding process. What in heaven do you plan to do about that?”
“I’m hoping this territory-nation can be held until boarding is complete.”
Don’t tell me she’s expecting us to hold the territory? Cfadiss groaned. He never could have expected they’d be asked to do something so crazy. Was the Royal Princess aware how weak they were to be clashing head-on with the enemy fleet? How they’d ultimately be unable to escape defeat?
Lafier was in no position to be ordering the Fleet 1 command center; hers was merely a request, and nothing more. Yet Cfadiss felt as though he had just received an order. It wasn’t that the Royal Princess’s manner was particularly high-handed or overbearing. She made it clear from her comportment that she understood full well that she was the supplicant. But even so, the unique aura of one born with the title of Fïac inspired him with awe. Nor was Cfadiss more fawning or sycophantic than the average person — most felt the same way in her presence. That being said, his superior officer was the head of the Sporr clan, so neither of them was “most people.”
Cfadiss covertly examined his Commander-in-Chief, and took solace. She didn’t appear to be cross. On the contrary, he could sense almost too much composure coming from her, as though she was delighting in this exchange. A different seed of worry soon germinated within: Don’t tell me she’s planning on accepting Her Highness’s request?
“Please don’t spout such nonsense. If we did that, my ships would come to harm,” she said, though that was a massive understatement.
“But if you don’t, my landworld citizens will die, Archduchess.”
“I think you’re rather exaggerating. They’ve managed to make lives for themselves up until now, haven’t they? Besides, until very recently, the territory-nation belonged to the United Humankind — the ones who are coming are their allies. And most importantly of all, the Empire can’t be faulted no matter who should perish, however tragically, in a domestic landworld conflict,” said Sporr, who then rose slowly from her chaise. “Also, please don’t forget that if we were to defend this territory, a number of my subordinates would give their lives to do so. Is there any point spending the lives of our subordinates in order to protect those landworld citizens of yours, who should be paying for their crimes anyway?”
Lafier nodded wordlessly. She appeared fully confident, without the slightest hint of self-doubt.
“Look,” said Sporr, “I hate to admit it, but the truth of the matter is: if we fight, we’ll lose. Judging by the sheer difference in numbers, without a miracle to help us, we’ll suffer an utter defeat. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got wiped out completely. Can you promise us a miracle, Deca-Commander?”
“No,” said Lafier, shaking her head. But she made no sign of taking back her words. “I’m not requesting for you to win the fight. I just want more time.”
“Well, that’s an awful thing to say. You would have my ships and my subordinates fling themselves into a hopeless battle just to buy time? I can’t order you to leave, so take this as my advice to you, but I urge you to depart this territory at once. Do you understand?”
“I won’t leave,” stated the Royal Princess sharply. “The citizens are afraid they’ll be left behind, Archduchess.”
“I don’t wish to admit this, either, but I’m afraid, too. Afraid I’ll be humiliated in the worst way possible. I don’t want the name of Sporh Aronn Saicsepatr Painaigh, Archduchess of Laitpanh, to be synonymous with making subordinates die in vain.”
“It wouldn’t be in vain.”
“Because they’d be fighting to help you keep your promise? Is that it? As I said earlier, promises are important. And I know that in order to fulfill their promises, your clan drips extraordinary amounts of zeal. But it all depends on the time and place. If it were only your precious life at stake, you could martyr yourself for the sake of your clan. More to the point — though it may not be my place to say this — if the price had to be paid in the lives of your or my subordinates, then it’s a different story.”
“It’s not just to keep my promise.”
“Then pray tell, what is it about?”
“The dignity of the Empire.” Her striking jet-black eyes locked onto Sporr’s eyes of crimson. “As Lady Agent, I humbly request you secure the Countdom of Lohbnahss until boarding is complete!”
Sporr’s expression turned severe indeed. From her pursed lips, a whispered rage: “You... you clasononn (stubborn mule)!”
I hope no one heard that, prayed Cfadiss, for his superior’s sake. It would wound her pride if anyone were to discover she’d once let slip her unvarnished feelings without any witty or sarcastic bent.
“May I ask you a question?” On the surface, Sporr’s tone of voice was composed. “What were you planning to do if we didn’t stop by this territory?”
“The enemy fleet is chasing after your ships, Archduchess. If you hadn’t come here, then neither would the enemy.”
“That is true,” said Sporr, smiling. “But if I were to turn down your request, then what would you do?”
“I would have no choice but to hide on the surface.”
“Hide on the surface? But how?”
“I would have the assault ship and supply ships, which have no surface-landing capability, to accompany your fleet. The amphibious ship would descend, and hide in the middle of the ocean, but not before I got as many people as possible aboard. I would board, too, of course.”
“That’s a dangerous gamble, Deca-Commander. From what we’ve observed, they stay in a single star system for, at minimum, five days. They’ve even squatted for as long as ten days or more. And what’s worse, the durations are getting longer. Do you honestly believe they won’t scan the surface while they’re here? Once you’re under attack, your mere Saith-class ship will sink without a prayer.”
“This is war. I can’t help whose side fortune is on.”
“It’s just as you say. And right now, fortune is very much not on our side.” Uncommonly for her, Sporr heaved a sigh, and changed her tone. “Okay, Your Highness Lady Agent. I will accept your request.”
“Please, Commander-in-Chief, don’t be hasty!” shouted Cfadiss, astonished. “You know our situation. It would be reckless...”
“Understand, however,” said Sporr, ignoring him “that I can’t make any heroic claims. I can’t promise you we will protect the planet without fail. And we don’t have any intention of defending this territory for very long if it means our annihilation. We reserve the right to retreat at the appropriate time. All I can offer Your Highness is a tiny bit more time. Is that quite all right?”
“That’s all I need, Archduchess. A thousand times, I thank you. I would like for you to bring my assault ship under your command.”
“That request, I must decline, Your Highness. It would only serve to get in our way. Never mind us — I ask that you devote your complete attention to getting your work done as quickly as possible.”
Shamefaced, Lafier lowered her gaze. “Understood. I’m counting on you.”
The call cut out.
“Why are you humoring such an absurd request, ma’am?” Cfadiss knew there was a shade of reproach in his voice, but he didn’t care.
Sporr’s eyes remained on the screen. “Just who do you think I am? I am the lady among all lieges, the Archduchess of Laitpanh. I can’t just refuse the pleas of a fellow liege, even if that lord or lady happens to be acting as an agent.”
“However, we
need you to be acting as the Commander-in-Chief of Fleet 1, ma’am,” said Cfadiss, objecting flat-out.
“I am at that,” said Sporr, taken aback. “One of the vital tasks of the Star Forces is to defend the prestige of the Empire.”
“But there’s a ceiling to that. To expose the fleet to danger just to assuage the victim complex of a small handful of landworld citizens...”
“I don’t know if it’s a victim complex, but I understand where you’re coming from,” said Sporr, biting the joint of her pinky. “She’s harassing me, and it’s working.”
Cfadiss blinked. “You think she made that plea in order to harass you?”
“Not on purpose, obviously.”
“I suppose not.”
“Abliars jerk us around by pure instinct. They suss out the predicament that would most displease the Sporrs by instinct. That’s how they drove me into this position.”
“Uh-huh...” Looks like victim complexes aren’t the sole province of landworld citizens, he thought, but naturally he wasn’t so foolhardy as to voice that sentiment.
“That aside, kindly put all traffic ships currently loaded onto each of the ships under my command under the command of Her Highness the Lady Agent. Tell them that they’re allowed to abandon the traffic ships in the end, should it come to that. Oh, actually, leave one traffic ship with us, just in case.”
“They’re to assist with the relocation, I assume?”
“Don’t ask me what you already know the answer to. Come to think of it, let’s throw in some supply ships, too. Can we send some over?”
Cfadiss summoned the supply staff officer, inquired as to the space available aboard the supply ships, and reported back to her. “We can, but only one.”
“I see. Right then, get to it for me, Chief of Staff.”
He returned to his Chief of Staff’s Seat and made the necessary arrangements. He organized a temporary traffic ship corps, and appointed the Captain of the supply ship that was to be deployed as the Sarérh Commander. Even as he set about making it happen, a swift torrent of information flowered from the Basrogrh to the Lachcaü. After finishing one of his tasks, he read the notifications, and a particular nugget caught his eye.
What Needs Defending Page 14
