by Dave Bara
“I agree. Thank you, Prince Katara,” I said. With that, the prince went over to the women, his arms spread wide.
“Ladies! Back to the palace! Our negotiations are completed, and we have much to celebrate!” The court ladies all erupted in cheers and then the prince whispered in Janaan’s ear. She stopped and looked back at me, her smile revealing her pleasure at the news. Then she turned and said something to Dobrina. The look of shock that crossed the captain’s face was obvious, but Janaan was already off with the group, running back to the palace. Dobrina turned and glared at me, then went off on her own in a different direction.
I hardly noticed as Serosian came up and stood beside me.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said. I thought about that for a moment, then took a slow puff of my cigar.
“Actually, my friend, I have no idea,” I said.
We were celebrating in a private two-story drawing room filled with books from floor to ceiling, a fire burning in a huge fireplace at one end, a billiards table occupying the other. There were about two dozen revelers celebrating with us. Janaan was in a corner with the ladies, taking congratulations, while the prince, Serosian, Kemal, Salibi, and I took up another corner. We’d been at it for an hour, and the buzz of our “good news” had made its way around the court in a flash. Dobrina, I noted, had gone to her room immediately upon reentering the palace, and I doubted I’d see her again tonight.
I had taken congratulations from many a courtier I didn’t know, most telling me I had made a wise choice in choosing a Levantine bride. I smiled through it all. Though I’d never thought I’d be involved in any kind of arranged marriage, especially one with political overtones, I had to admit the idea of the Princess Janaan as my future bride, even if conditionally, wasn’t something I was entirely resistant to. She was beautiful and certainly quite capable in many capacities, both in political qualities and no doubt domestic ones. She would make a fine wife for a young viscount or duke. But just now I was still a commander in the Union Navy, and my heart’s desire was to explore the universe. And, quite frankly, between Janaan and Dobrina, I was unsure where my true romantic feelings lay.
After another half hour of making small talk and drinking, I was starting to yawn. The prince graciously allowed me to withdraw and I did, leaving Serosian to tend to completing business matters. The Historian never seemed to require sleep.
I went over to my prospective bride and bid her goodnight with another kiss of the hand, but the court ladies were having none of it.
“We must have a proper kiss!” said one of the courtiers. I smiled at Janaan, who looked up at me expectantly through her dark and alluring eyes. She stood and I drew her to me, our lips meeting pleasantly for a moment, then lingering a bit longer than expected. This drew “ahhs” from the ladies and applause. I bowed to them all, then made my way out the door and up to my room.
I hesitated a moment at Dobrina’s door, but decided against knocking. What I had done was what was required of me, as she had asked me to do, and I hoped when this was over she would see that. I remembered Serosian’s advice to treat her as a woman when we were “off duty.” Right now I suspected that the woman in her would be hurt and angry.
A few minutes later I dismissed the servants and crawled into my own bed, tired and wondering what the day ahead would bring after such a busy night. I found, however, that sleep eluded me, and after nearly an hour of tossing and turning I called down for some tea to be brought up.
I was out of bed and sitting in a side chair when the knock came at my door.
“Come in,” I said. A female servant in a dark cloak, with a hood covering her face, came in and set the tea tray down on a table near the only light in the room. I noticed it wasn’t one of my regular servant girls, but I couldn’t see her face in the dim light. No matter. I rubbed at my eyes as she poured a cup for me and then added a bit of cream, just as I liked it. I wondered if the staff had been observing my habits during our stay. She handed me the cup and saucer and then said, “Is there anything else, Lord?” so faintly I could hardly hear her.
“No, thank you,” I replied, then took a sip. The tea was sweet and the warmth relaxing. I watched in the dim light of the lamp as the servant girl withdrew to the door and shut it, then locked it from the inside. She walked toward me then, pulling back her hood.
It was Janaan.
She dropped the cloak onto the floor, revealing an elegant silk nightgown underneath, then came and sat next to me on the floor, wrapping her arms around my legs in a gesture of submission.
“Janaan—” I started.
“Please wait,” she said. I looked down into her eyes. God, she was beautiful.
“I cannot come to you as your wife,” she continued. “I don’t know if I will ever be able to. So I come to you now as a servant girl. Command me, and I will obey.”
I set the tea down and reached out to her. She pulled my hand to her face. “I have no wish to command you, Janaan. Only to please you, but . . .” I trailed off.
She looked at me expectantly, then her expression turned sad. “But you cannot marry me, can you? It is because of her, isn’t it? Do you love her?” she asked.
That question evoked a swirl of emotions in me. Thoughts of Dobrina and the beautiful and alluring woman before me crossed paths through my mind. Finally, I made my decision.
“I think so,” I said. Her face fell, the disappointment hard to contain.
“Then you should be with her,” she said. “She is a very lucky woman.” At this she stood to leave, and I stood with her and took her hands.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Janaan,” I said. “Were the circumstances different I would gladly marry you this instant. I still have work to do, but the promise I made to you is real. If I am unmarried in five years to this very day, I will return to Levant and marry you without a moment’s hesitation. If you would still have me, that is.”
She smiled bravely, then said: “Would you grant a princess one request?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Take me in your arms and kiss me, as you would if we were husband and wife,” she said.
There were all kinds of implications to her request, but I couldn’t deny her, nor did I want to. I took her in my arms and our lips mixed sensually for a long moment. It was pure pleasure, and I lost myself in the moment.
The knock at the door startled both of us, and broke our embrace. The guard at the door didn’t hesitate to open it and come in, disregarding our privacy. “Apologies Sire, Highness,” he said. “There is an urgent matter. You are both required in the prince’s military command center, immediately.”
Janaan grabbed her cloak, and I put on the nearest set of clothes from my closet. Then we rushed out the door, our moment of passion forgotten in the face of the unknown.
We were taken down the stairs and rushed into a narrow hallway, through several doors, and then into a reinforced military-style lifter. We said nothing as the lifter seemed to go down very deep in the ground. Instinctively I reached out for the princess’s hand to comfort her, and she took it, but when I looked in her eyes she had a serious look on her face, all business. I had forgotten she was not just the emotionally frail young woman of the evening’s events, but also a valuable military adviser to the prince.
She parted hands with me as the doors opened, and she pushed past the guards into a short hallway connected to a central, brightly lit room. I followed her in and found the prince, Salibi, Serosian, Dobrina, Marker, and Layton already inside along with technicians at various stations.
The prince’s command center was more of a bunker, with a large main plasma display on the center wall. Currently it showed a tactical breakdown of the Levant solar system.
“What’s this?” demanded Janaan. I looked behind us as the doors to the room were shut and locked from the outside.
“A hyperdimensional a
nomaly has appeared, near the artificial jump gate,” said the prince.
“We noticed it about fifteen minutes ago,” added General Salibi. “We haven’t identified it as yet, but it is moving away from Levant at a high rate of speed.”
We watched as the object accelerated away from Levant Prime and toward the outer solar system. With their primitive tactical computers it was impossible to determine the size or displacement of the unidentified vessel. I looked to Serosian; concern was etched across his face. Dobrina was all business.
“If it came through the jump gate, then it must have come from the same place they took our vessel, and it must be Imperial in design,” she said, turning to Serosian. “We have to go after it.”
“We can’t guarantee it came from the same location, Captain. For all we know these portals are programmable with multiple locations as possible destinations,” said Serosian.
“I’m guessing it came from the same place, Mr. Serosian, which makes it a priority to intercept. Do you have an alternative to offer or are you merely speculating?” said Dobrina, an edge to her voice.
“At this point, speculating. But until we can monitor it with our instruments on the yacht, we can’t be sure of anything,” he replied.
Dobrina considered this, then turned to the prince. “He’s right, Prince Katara. We must return to our ship and intercept this vehicle, whatever it is. Lives could be at risk over this.”
The prince considered this, then turned to Salibi. “General, can our ships catch this intruder?” Salibi reluctantly shook his head.
“No, Highness, it is too fast and likely too advanced for our ships to catch. The Historian’s yacht seems the most likely choice for pursuit,” he said. Prince Katara considered this for a moment, then turned to Serosian.
“Mr. Serosian, my government formally requests under our new alliance with your Union that you pursue and, if possible, detain this intruder into our space. If you are unable to detain it, we request that you destroy it,” said the prince.
“Those actions will be at my discretion,” interrupted Dobrina. “I am the military commander of this mission.”
Prince Katara turned to her. “Then I make the same request of you, Captain Kierkopf,” he said.
“I accept your proposal on behalf of the Union, Prince Katara,” replied Dobrina. “I suggest General Salibi here get your fleet into a defensive position around Levant. This ship is an unknown, and as such, could be very dangerous.”
“See to it,” said the prince to Salibi, who nodded and went to a nearby station, giving orders in the Levantine language. The prince turned back to us. “Now, when do we leave?”
We all looked at each other. “We?” asked Dobrina. “You’re not thinking—”
“Of going with you? As a matter of fact, I insist,” he said. Dobrina looked astonished at this.
“Prince Katara,” she protested. “A ship going into an unknown situation, possibly even battle, is no place for the Head of State of Levant.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps so, but I am also Commander in Chief of our military, and in that role I insist on being aboard your vessel for this mission.”
At this Janaan stepped up. “As do I,” she said.
“No,” I replied without thinking. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I agree,” said the prince. “Your place is here—”
“In case you don’t return?” she finished for him.
“Janaan, this is not the time—”
“For women to get involved. I understand you clearly, Sunil. It is my duty to stay here and tend the house,” she said, fuming.
“We are co-regents, Janaan. One of us must stay here . . . in case something were to happen to the other. Logically, it must be you. Don’t you understand?” the prince asked. She crossed her arms, looking back and forth between the prince and I.
“I understand,” she said finally, “but I don’t like it.”
“Your Highness,” said Serosian with urgency, “we must be moving soon. That vessel is not getting any closer to us. And if I may offer another solution?”
“I’m listening,” said the prince.
“Command your defense fleet here. Levant will need to be protected, and you can do that better from your command ship than from our vessel. And, quite bluntly, you would simply be in the way on board our ship,” he said. The prince reddened at this, but after a few seconds he gave in to logic.
“Very well,” he said, and motioned for Salibi to join us. “We will head for the spaceport. Janaan will run the government from here. She is not to go up to the surface for any reason until this crisis is past,” he said. There were acknowledgments all around and then we made for the lifter again. Janaan grabbed my arm just as the group exited the bunker.
“Make sure my brother stays safe,” she said to me. I nodded to her.
“I will do my best,” I said. Then she rushed in and gave me a brief kiss before turning away. I hurried out the door and into the waiting lifter.
In Levant Space
We were powered up and airborne in the yacht in less than thirty minutes. It seemed like a short time, but when you’re chasing an object at hyperdimensional speeds, it’s valuable time lost. The yacht had taken the down time to do additional self-repairs and all systems were now at one hundred percent after our encounters with the HD weapons. It took me another seven minutes to get a bead on our bogey.
“She’s moving away from us at point-two light,” I reported. “Bearing is still a bit unclear, but if we can match her course and speed, I think we can close the gap.”
“We can do better than that,” said Serosian from his command console. “Her drive is hyperdimensional, but it’s not as efficient as ours. That indicates an older design.”
“Design of what?” asked Dobrina, hovering over him. The Historian may have been in command of the yacht but it was clear Impulse’s acting captain was unwilling to take second seat on the mission.
“I’ll have it identified in a second. There it is,” said Serosian as the image of an ancient Imperial vessel appeared on the forward plasma display. We all turned to see the 3-D rendering of the bogey. It was essentially a series of three connected cylinders interlocking together, with a fourth cylinder rotating about the main body on a strut. I was no weapons expert, but I recognized a coil cannon array when I saw one. “Vessel is an Imperial Hunter-Killer, sixth generation design. Use was most prevalent in the last half century before the Civil War broke out. I would estimate its age at approximately three and one-half centuries.”
“What’s the crew complement?” asked Dobrina.
“This generation of HuK was designed to be automated and operate on autonomous missions for long periods. Mission-critical updates were likely sent via the Imperial ansible network before it was destroyed. No crew. It made for an efficient weapon of mass destruction, though each would likely be a single-use weapon,” said the Historian.
“Automated for attack?” Dobrina asked. Serosian nodded.
“On missions with low survivability outcomes,” he said, not looking away from his board.
“A suicide mission,” I said. They all looked at me.
“Technically there would have to be a living crew aboard for it to be a suicide mission, Peter, but your analogy is essentially accurate. This ship was built to execute a mission with little or no chance of returning intact,” said Serosian.
“You mentioned the ansible network was destroyed during the Civil War,” said Dobrina. “What would happen to a vessel like this in that event?”
Serosian shrugged.
“It’s likely many of these devices simply shut down or went offline, awaiting new orders that never came,” he said.
“Which makes them convenient for an adversary to locate and reassign,” said Dobrina. Serosian tilted his head to one side before responding.
�
�Or, it could be that an event like Impulse coming through the gate led to the HuK’s programming being reactivated. It could be merely carrying out a mission it was programmed for centuries ago and was never able to fulfill,” speculated the Historian.
“Have you got a better read on its course yet, Mr. Cochrane?” asked the captain. I stopped listening and turned back to my board.
“I do, ma’am,” I said. “It’s on a course that will take it to the Trojan point asteroid we detected upon entering Levant space. The one with the HD anomaly,” I said.
Serosian’s eyebrows popped up at this. “Then it’s got only one mission in mind,” he said to Dobrina.
“Which is?” she asked, stepping up to Serosian’s console.
“I can only speculate, but if there is an HD energy source at the asteroid, then the HuK wants that power for something.”
Dobrina looked grave. “Attacking Levant?”
“Possibly.” At this, Dobrina turned to us at our stations.
“Mr. Marker, get us something extra from those impellers, I want to catch this thing before it reaches the asteroid. Mr. Layton, keep us on course, and if that thing deviates one ten-thousandth from its course I want to know about it,” she said, then swiveled to me. “Mr. Cochrane, a word in private, if you please.”
I did as I was ordered, following my commander and Serosian into his private chambers. The Historian’s inner lair was, to my surprise, very simple. On the left, an altar dominated the near wall, the only appointment being a padded knee rest I assumed was for prayer and communion. Serosian stepped behind a large, black console to my right. Behind him was a wall-sized plasma display. I was baffled as to what it was, and thought it could be artwork. I watched as colors swam across the wall, some in waves, some angles, and still others as sparkles of brilliant light. In a room beyond the main chamber I could see a simple pallet for resting, though I could never recall seeing the Historian sleep.
