by Ben Winston
In the Duke's opinion, that was simply more proof that this Emperor didn't have the fangs to lead the Consortium. They needed someone with strength and foresight to rule. Someone that wasn't afraid to make the hard decisions. Someone like him. His accountants would whine over the loss of an ohto processor, but although it was expensive, he could replace it. He needed civil unrest and public outrage in order to stage his troops here, and he meant to have it. He'd already hidden his secret fleet of super-destroyers in the Vega Nebula; the only thing he needed to do was to get his damn troops in place!
Hissing the command to the room's computer, a terminal lowered from the ceiling to stop in place before the warming stone. Duke Asssinianiss Cassias prided himself on his computer skills, believing himself to be the leading authority in all things having to do with any of the computer systems currently in use in the Consortium. Indeed, most of the Consortium agreed with him, and even then the Consortium's scholars agreed that he was at the least in the top five.
He smiled to himself as he inserted an ancient gadget that was holding an ancient program. As the encrypted email program on the flash drive launched, he shrugged mentally; well, at least the humans were very inventive at one time. Thankfully, none of them remembered which planet was their home or he'd be forced to surrender this very profitable and strategic planet.
If he lost this world, he'd lose the ideal place to stage his coup from. There were no other habitable worlds this close to the Consortium Capitol. He would be forced to pack his troops into transports and launch his attack with only one vector. Anyone with a functioning synapse and knowledge of the Imperial fleets knew such an attack was doomed even before a single shot was fired.
Whatever happened, it needed to happen soon, or his fleet will be discovered, and he would discover what it feels like to be made into a purse and belt with matching shoes.
CHAPTER THREE
"Great spirits have always found violent opposition from mediocrities. The latter cannot understand it when a man does not thoughtlessly submit to hereditary prejudices but honestly and courageously uses his intelligence."
- Albert Einstein
Office of the Prime Councilor
Command Pod Alpha One
9 Apr. 8255 CE
Sector 34871 - Great Inland Sea
Earth, Sol system
Ben was thankful he'd remembered to bring his data pad with him, so he could record Addson's story. He didn't think anyone else would have believed him if he'd had to relay the tale himself.
Combined with what she'd told him, Ben thought he could piece together a pretty accurate history, or at least as accurate as possible. The original ships that man had used to leave the planet of their birth had long since been destroyed, so any hard data had been destroyed with them.
When the survivors of the war decided to leave, it wasn't one large exodus; it had been a carefully staged escape since they believed the enemy was still in the area. It seemed the Sal'andori were mostly a space going animosity, having originated on a water world orbiting a slowly dying star. They apparently needed host bodies to procreate and in their travels made many enemies. The most violent and warlike caught up to their last surviving breeding fleet as it was settling into a new planet.
The reason the Sal'andori left Earth wasn't because of the efforts of the few remaining soldiers fighting a largely hopeless battle, but because most of its capitol ships had been destroyed in orbit by a race called the Lizaarus (Alice said the word doesn't actually translate into Addson's language nor the language that Ben spoke, so she made up a word.)
The Lizaarus hung around long enough to satisfy themselves that they had indeed eradicated the Sal'andori before they left. Ben knew from his study of the records that they hadn't simply left. They had landed, been engaged in several small battles with the human soldiers that were left and had taken several prisoners before departing themselves. It was after they left that the decision to abandon the planet had been made.
According to what Addson knew, humans had run into a kind, helpful race of beings that originated basically next door to them. Originating on the fifth planet of the Sirius system, The Hyclarion had never realized that humans had inhabited the third planet of the star system they called Terrel.
Ben imagined they looked like what Bigfoot should have looked like and wondered if all those sightings hadn't been crashed ships. He was almost certain of it when he found out that the Hyclarion and several allies had been at war with a large, aggressive Empire of carnivorous lizards. You guessed it, the Lizaarus.
The Hyclarion didn't trust humans for a long time. They had believed them to be agents of the Lizaarus, since they had been traveling from Lizaarus controlled space and imprisoned every human they could find. Even after the humans had told them their story, none of it was believed. By the time the war had ended it was a draw, with the lesser of the two being the Lizaarus. They'd agreed to peace if the Consortium would accept the Lizaarus’ current political structure, less the imperial court, and integrate it into their own empire.
Since the war had been brutal, the Hyclarion High Council agreed simply to end the wasteful fighting. However, the Lizaarus must accept the Hyclarion Emperor as their own. It was agreed and the map was redrawn to include the Duchies and Baronies of the Lizaarus. The planet Earth had fallen into the Duchy of Cassias.
However, no one challenged their claiming of the planet because it was, at the time in the middle of a minor ice age and enough time had passed that the imprisoned humans had forgotten where their home world had been. It was later discovered that the Lizaarus had intercepted several of the earliest ships fleeing the planet. They had been warmly welcomed by the Lizaarus, and they promptly ate them.
The Lizaarus had been questioned as to the location of the home world of the humans so they could be returned there, but the Lizaarus claimed that they didn't know, thus the home world of the race called Humanity was forgotten from the Imperial Memory. Currently, humans were considered second-class citizens since they had no home world. They had no voice in the Hyclarion Council, but the Lizaarus offered to claim them as vassals, since they had first been spotted in their space.
The Council agreed, but only on the condition that they be treated fairly, not used as slaves nor as a food source. The order itself had come straight from the Emperor, since he suspected that was the only reason the Lizaarus would claim the race. There was much grumbling and quiet growling about the order, proving to almost everyone that the Emperor had been correct. They might only be humans, but as citizens of the Consortium they deserved some form of protection.
So most of the surviving human race had once again been uprooted and sent to various worlds in different Lizaarus Duchies. Today, humans were laborers and servants and some had low-level management positions within the Duchy. Humans were not trusted with personal weapons of any size, they had few to no rights, and they also had no recourse to challenge that status.
If they had their own home world, that would glean them enough status in the Consortium to ask for autonomy from the Duchy and given their location, they could either claim allegiance to the Emperor's own house or one of the others that were spatially near. If humans claimed full autonomy, and it was granted, they would be given a ten light-year area centered on their planet. The Consortium would guarantee their security until Earth could protect itself.
Ben couldn't help but wish they had come to the rescue before the Sal'andori ravaged the surface of the planet. The rest of the information Addson had given them was troubling as well. How would they survive? He knew without asking that none of the survivors would submit to domination by this Duke. However, they might agree to join the Consortium.
The problem then becomes, how do they get to the Hyclarion Council with proof that Earth is the home world of the Human race? In that moment, he knew that another war was coming. A confrontation between the forces occupying the surface and the military force was inevitable. He knew he would have to convince the re
st of his Council to support this.
His sleep lessons had taught him that being a leader meant that there would be hard decisions as well as the easy ones. A true leader was nothing more than the accumulated will of those he led. It was his responsibility to inform them of threats and the need for a military. He also knew it would become his responsibility to order those troops into a fight where some or all of them might die.
Ben sat alone in his office reviewing the information he'd gotten from Addson. The thought of ordering people out to die made him want to puke. He put his head into his hands to calm himself before he had to inform the rest of his people of what was going on above them.
Hidden Pirate Headquarters
Planet Terral III
Cassian March
Duchy of Cassias
Hyclarion Imperial Consortium
Elrond read the message from the duke and paled. That fucking lizard was completely insane! It was bad enough that they had killed that prospector, but now he wanted an Aerie destroyed! Just over a thousand human men, women and children along with twenty or thirty beings from other races. Not to mention a several billion credit Aerie ohto processor! The bastard was totally insane.
For a moment, he thought of loading his people up and making a run for an Imperial Ranger outpost, but the fact that they had killed that girl and had allowed those civilians to die would place his whole crew on the line. The Duke would simply lie through his fangs about supporting them, and in truth, he had no way to prove that he had. It was at that moment that he understood the position the Duke had placed him in and through him, his people.
He had allowed them to become trapped. Even if they killed him, they would still be trapped. He sighed sadly, took the message off the printer and recalled all of his raiding teams. Taking out an Aerie would require everyone he had. Sitting down in his quiet, lonely quarters, he poured himself three fingers of Imperial whiskey his raiders had stolen from a cargo floater, and got to work planning the total destruction of the Great Falls Aerie.
Council Meeting Chamber
Command Pod Alpha One
9 Apr. 8255 CE
Sector 34892 - Great Inland Sea
Earth, Sol system
Ben had been amazed when he had found this room. It wasn't listed on any of the blueprints, but it was so integrated into the design of the Pod that it had to have been part of the original plans for it. The way he'd found it was a seemingly inactive touch plate in their apartment. When Ben had placed his hand on it, the wall had slid to the side, allowing him access to a small elevator. The elevator descended and deposited him one floor below the 'Atrium Level', which was at the very bottom of the Pod.
Today however, he didn't stop to wonder at the sophistication of its electronics or the massive communication computers that allowed him to speak to the rest of the Councilors from all over the world. The number had been greatly reduced as Pods that were close to each other had banded together to share resources as well as a Council representative.
When the ones in the orient wanted to combine all their Pods, Ben had talked them out it. Although he had no objection to their desire to have one 'leader' he stressed the fact that not all of the formerly far eastern Pods had come from Communist Countries. The Chinese Central Party had been responsible for many human rights atrocities.
Ben told them he wished to avoid any issues like that in the future, and asked them to join no more than two Pods together. He had another, more important reason for wanting them to not combine; he wanted all the pods to remain as one people, not several separate entities based on their former nationalities. He hadn't said that because, even to him, it sounded like he wanted to rule them.
The Chinese Pods had been much larger than the average pod; the smallest one housing fifty thousand souls. Ben was amazed at the engineering involved in even the smallest of those Pods. The biggest problem with them though was that most of them were now under the northern ice cap. Of course, South Africa had the same problem, but once the transit system was back to being fully online, that wouldn't really be an issue.
Today, however, would not be like the other sessions when the main topic surrounded Pod autonomy and who governed what. No, today was a closed session for the specific purpose of giving the rest of the Council a preliminary report on the actions of the last few days, and of their new friend in the Command Pod medical section.
Looking around the circular room, he saw mostly green lights, indicating that the leaders of those Pods were ready and awaiting the rest. Ben set his own indicator to green, indicating he was also ready. He noticed immediately that several more indicators turned green almost immediately. However, there were still enough reds that he decided to wait another five minutes.
Since he knew this meeting was very important to everyone, he reset his indicator to yellow, and set a timer for five minutes. That told the rest of the delegates that he was going to wait for more of their brothers and sisters to indicate readiness. He went to the replicator and got a cappuccino before heading back to his place to await the remainder of the five minutes.
Almost a full minute before time ran out, all the indicators were either yellow or green. By the time the clock ran down, everyone had set green indicating a hundred percent attendance. He took a sip of his drink and stood just as all the monitors came on. Even before he began speaking, he knew this was going to be a long session.
He was correct. After he had told the delegates all the information he and his people had gleaned, almost everyone immediately had questions, but the first to catch Ben's eye was a large, normally jovial, very dark skinned Councilor from what had been central Africa. Ben nodded to him. “Councilor Mintubo.”
“Thank you Prime Councilor. If I may, I would like to submit a request on behalf of my scientists to examine the recovered wreckage.”
Mintubo paused because Ben had raised a hand to stop him. “My apologies for interrupting you, Councilor. Sisters and Brothers, I would like to head off a potential issue before it becomes a problem. Scientific and military discoveries actually belong to all of us, I would like to avoid letting them become entangled in politics if at all possible. So, please instruct your people to contact Marcy Carmichael for coordination on access to the wreckage. I say coordination simply because there isn't room for everyone at one time. Any and all information gleaned will be mutually available to everyone in the science departments equally. However, if anyone feels that someone is getting special access, and the Office of the Science Adviser is not listening or gives an inadequate reason, then the issue may be brought to us for adjudication. Does this sound mutually equitable?"
Ben once again faced mostly green lights, with only a few yellow and no red at all. “Motion carries. Councilor Mintubo, do you wish to continue?”
“Thank you, Prime. Yes I do, if I may?”
Ben smiled at how polite he was. “Please proceed Councilor.”
“Prime, you mentioned military discoveries. Have you more information on that sunken depot that was found, and will we be able to question Miss Addson ourselves?” Mintubo asked.
Ben nodded. “If it is the wish of the Council that Addson be brought before you, I will arrange it as soon as she is physically capable. I need to apologize to all of you; I should have informed you that my complete, unedited interview with our guest is available to all of you. I should have told you prior to my explanation.” Ben grinned. “Live and learn.
“As for the military discoveries, as per my earlier explanation, we were able to use one of the ships found in the cache to rescue Addson. Currently we do not have a formal military, but we do have several ex-military pilots and soldiers that we used to crew the ship for the rescue mission. I am told that the base is still mostly dark, and its computer systems are still not functional.
“After this discussion, and in light of the information Addson gave us, I was going to ask all of you to consider creating a military to protect us from this Duke being. However, we have not yet gotten to
that point in our discussions.”
An indicator on Ben's console lit, indicating that someone wanted entrance into the Council chamber. He turned on the camera, and saw it was Marcy and she was excited.
“Councilors, my science adviser is requesting entrance into the chamber, please give me a moment to see what business she has for us.” It wasn't so much a request as a statement to let them know he was letting her in.
Without shutting down his video feed, he granted her entrance. As she approached, she realized she had interrupted the Council. She stopped half way to Ben and bowed. “Councilors, please forgive my interruption but I have information I believe all of you would want to know immediately.”
“Enter, Marcy Carmichael, and tell us your business,” Ben said formally, starting a tradition.
She stood and finished her trek to Ben's console in the center of the room. She handed Ben several printouts, before turning and facing the cameras in the room. “Councilors, with the help of Dr. Johns of Pod six-seven-two-four, we have managed to get the rest of the military depot operational. This includes its immense computer systems and very unusual tracking systems. Thanks to Captain Greenwold, we made sure to not activate the latter.
“We are very excited because that computer system is vastly more advanced than our own systems. You see it is artificially intelligent. So far we have deduced that not only is it vocally interactive, it is capable of situational analysis and can offer suggestions based on available information. It holds a virtual treasure trove of data, however, we have run into a wall with the A.I." Marcy explained.
