“What about the motherships?” Bogrin asked.
“Without their swarms, we easily destroyed five of them using TacDrive attacks before the rest decided to retreat using their FTL drives. Now, we are remilitarizing as quickly as possible under the assumption that another, heavier assault will come soon.”
“How the hell are you – are we – going to hold against a heavier attack when the last one caused such horrendous damage?” said Ezekiel.
The holotank display changed again, showing a diagram of Desolator. “We are already radically upgrading point defense systems, in some cases by factors of one hundred or more. Additionally, armor and internal defense systems are also being optimized against the Scourge. Marine forces are being hastily trained and equipped in anti-Scourge operations. There is no lack of volunteers.”
“Okay, that’s good, but what you really need are SLAMs,” said Ezekiel. “Take out entire motherships before they launch their swarms.”
“We already thought of this during our after-action debates. Unfortunately, we have only eight new TacDrive systems available to create such weapons. Admiral Mirza has therefore ordered that refurbishment of the nine surviving TacDrive-equipped light cruisers be halted and their weapons stripped. They will be fitted with automated systems to convert them into suicide ships. Soon, we will have, in effect, seventeen SLAMs.”
“A clever solution,” Bogrin said, “and still much cheaper to trade an unmanned light cruiser for a mothership.”
“You’re actually better off here than in Earth’s system,” Ezekiel said. “You lost a ton of ships, but the manufacturing infrastructure was almost untouched and it’s more modern then Earth’s was. Plus, each Dominator-class ship is a factory all its own.”
“It matters not,” Trissk growled. “Fleet will do all it can, but Afrana must be organized for ground defense. Every warrior of all races must be armed and ready to kill the bugs that land.”
“That is being done. Soon, every civilian will be trained as militia. And if necessary, we shall use Admiral Absen’s rope-a-dope tactic, as described in Erasmus’ data package,” Desolator said.
“Rope-a-dope?”
“That is what he called it when explaining it to his crew, though it seems that metaphor did not propagate to your ears,” said Desolator with amusement. “I refer to allowing the Scourge to land largely unopposed and eat themselves into their metamorphic cocoons, and then to kill them where they lie.”
“What honor is there is killing a helpless enemy?” Trissk asked.
“Do you think the Scourge have honor?” Bogrin replied.
“Honor is a warrior’s gift to himself. It matters not how debased the enemy.”
Chiren said, “Honor is served by survival of the females and kits, Trissk. I suspect we will use the tactic if we must. Sometimes a warrior must sacrifice everything, even his own honor, for the good of his offspring and the future of the race.”
Trissk grumbled under his breath, but fell silent.
Chapter 10
“It’s good to see all of you,” Admiral Mirza said, shaking Ezekiel’s hand, and then extending his to the other two in turn. “Until now, we had no idea whether…”
“Whether we lived or died?” Ezekiel smiled. “Ditto for our thoughts of you. But FTL travel will change all that. A bit more than nine days from Sol to Gliese 370, fifteen back, I’m told.”
“Why the difference?”
“Sol is a bigger star. It’s ‘uphill’ in FTL terms.”
“Ah.” Mirza waved the three to seats, moving to the bar in his spacious flag office aboard Desolator. “Drinks?”
“Scotch,” all three said in unison, and then laughed.
“Spooky ruined us for any other whiskey,” Ezekiel explained, watching as Bogrin took out a Sekoi-sized cigar and lit it. “Ruined him in other ways, too.”
Bogrin, of course, laughed even louder.
“Scrubbers up, please, Desolator,” Admiral Mirza said, and immediately, rushing air drew the smoke away. He handed each a healthy dose of Scotch.
“So when did you move aboard Desolator?” Trissk asked Mirza. “He is Ryss.”
“He’s EarthFleet,” Mirza said firmly, staring Trissk down. “I did it fifteen years ago, when the Allied Races government claimed authority over all military forces here, in order to demonstrate that the Ryss ships, if not all Ryss themselves, were part of the Fleet.”
“And to demonstrate your supremacy over us?” Trissk said.
Mirza’s lips thinned. “Elder Trissk, I’ve been an honest broker and a peacemaker as well as a warrior. I’ve always treated your people fairly. Until New Ryssa was declared and they deserted their posts, I had Ryss organics among my senior staff, and I’ve reinstated many of them since the attack brought your people back to their senses. It wasn’t me that caused this rupture in our relationship.”
Trissk snarled, “From the reports I’ve read, Ryss were being marginalized and treated as second-class citizens of Afrana.”
“Not within EarthFleet. Not then, not now. I’m not going to sugar-coat it: from my point of view, your elders brought their problems on themselves by refusing to employ birth control or work in good faith with the Sekoi. It’s their homeworld, after all.”
Bogrin broke in with a basso rumble. “Perhaps we should stick to the military situation for now. I will be talking to my people’s government soon. With the word that Earth still lives, the political situation may be sorted out more easily than you think – especially with the threat of extinction hanging over us.”
“Yes, fear of death concentrates the mind wonderfully, does it not?” Mirza said drily.
“The good news for Afrana is,” Ezekiel said, “with what we now know about FTL travel and what we’ve deduced about the Scourge – and the fact that it’s been almost a year and we’ve seen no follow-up attack on Earth – this system is probably safe for a while. Months, at least. That means we can get regular FTL shuttles started and begin to sort all this out.”
A peculiar look had taken over Admiral Mirza’s face. Ezekiel realized it was longing, and he remembered what it was like to want to go home. Even after more than fifty years, Afrana hadn’t replaced Earth in the human heart.
“Desolator,” Mirza said, “how long do you think it will take to manufacture and install FTL drives aboard yourself and your brother ships?”
“I expect I will be ready to test within forty days.”
“So soon?”
“The components are not difficult to manufacture, though they are numerous for a ship of my size. The technology rests at the leading edge of current scientific theory, but would have been discovered within perhaps fifty years anyway, I believe. In fact, I suspect that within decades, allied scientists will radically improve the techniques.”
The longing on Mirza’s face became raw pain. “To see my homeland again…”
“It won’t be the same,” Ezekiel said gently. “The Third Holocaust wiped out a lot of stuff, sir, and most of our families. Fifty years of Meme rule did still more damage.”
“It doesn’t matter. I have to see it for myself.” Mirza smiled through his anguish. “What’s the point of being in charge if you can’t take a working vacation once in a while? Besides, a flag officer meeting between Absen and me will sort out a lot of things faster than sending reports back and forth every few weeks.”
***
Ezekiel and Trissk accompanied Bogrin to the conference with the Sekoi high council, a collection of ninety-nine yellow-clad pachyderms filling an enormous round chamber rather like a small indoor stadium.
Trissk had resisted going along. “My presence will be a provocation,” he’d said.
“Your presence will be a demonstration that your people are still willing to work with ours – at least within the framework of EarthFleet,” Bogrin had replied.
“Perhaps I should go speak with my own elders before this meeting. I will gauge their temper and possibly receive a mandate to negotiate.”
“Trissk,” Ezekiel had said, “we three represent Earth and EarthFleet. Let’s stick together and tackle the easiest problem first, and so on. The Sekoi, the humans…and then the Ryss.”
That’s why the two aliens found themselves being stared at intermittently by the herd of weighty beings, Blends all, the oligarchy of the Sekoi.
“Fellows of Koio,” Bogrin began his oration, “I come as one of you, the Hundredth.”
Ezekiel didn’t know what that might mean, but the number seemed significant to the assembly.
“I bring greetings from Admiral Absen and the new Emperor of Earth’s empire, Daniel Markis. Your knowledge of him is impersonal, contained within the histories of Humans you have all read, but you know the one called Tran Pham Nguyen, still owner of one of the largest corporations on our planet.”
The herd stirred and a deep rumble of muttered conversation coursed through the throng, along with scattered laughter.
“That one has since taken his Yellow and is called Spectre, Emperor Emeritus of Earth.”
The rumble became a tide of sound, all of the council members pounding on their desks with hamlike fists and some coming to their feet, laughing uproariously. Trissk bristled, his mane flaring around his head and his claws extending. Ezekiel placed a calming hand on the Ryss’ arm and said, “I don’t think they’re upset. I think that’s acclaim we’re hearing.”
Bogrin held up both hands for silence, which returned slowly. “I am happy to witness such praise and joy at Nguyen’s ascendance, and I assure you that the new Emperor is a worthy successor, a man of great mercy and reason. By all right, he is our Emperor now.”
Pointing to Trissk and Ezekiel, Bogrin went on, “I have here two more representatives of the Empire of Earth, Ezekiel Denham and Trissk, whom you all know, at least by reputation. Together, we three are Earth’s viceroys to this system, not its ambassadors. The gulf of time between our worlds and the lack of news may have induced some to wonder whether Koio was still part of the new Empire, and I am here to assure you, it is. You have not been abandoned by Earth.”
The council members began a rhythmic clapping, a pounding that smote Ezekiel’s auditory nerves, driving out all other sound. He noticed Trissk’s more sensitive ears flattened and his paws covering them.
When the noise died down, Bogrin continued, “You will also note that as a native of this system I have been given primacy of place among us three. This proves the new Emperor Markis is sincere, and that he respects our value and dignity. I want to assure you that there will be great freedom and extensive laughter beneath the benevolent banners of his leadership.”
More thunderous acclaim ensued. Ezekiel covered his ears and deliberately concentrated on controlling the sensitivity of his auditory nerves.
As he was not a Blend, Trissk had no such advantage and suffered, paws clasped to ears and with his head stuck under the huge desk in front of him.
“Quiet, please,” Bogrin said. “With the acceptance I observe, I now tell you that our first order of business is reuniting our races. No longer will we be merely allies: we must be brothers in arms, standing shoulder to shoulder beneath the banner of the Empire of Earth, alongside the humans, the Ryss…and the Meme.”
Ezekiel would have expected another explosion of sound, but all he heard was a scattering of chuckles, and he realized that this council must have been prepared in advance, of course. The news of the happenings in the Solar System, including the alliance with the Meme, had been disseminated far and wide.
Bogrin was playing fast and loose with the truth, though. At least he was spinning the situation as if the Meme had joined Earth’s empire, rather than acceding to an alliance. These Yellows here must know that, yet none of them contradicted the Sekoi viceroy.
Like all politicians, Ezekiel thought, they’re accepting a lie in order to influence public opinion. The common people of the Sekoi, who have so recently thrown off Meme rule, will be far more amenable to the idea that their former masters were now their equals under Earth’s leadership, rather than independent and possibly shaky allies. Well, Bogrin knows best how to handle his own people.
“I know some here have concerns about working with the Meme again, which is all the more reason to crowd closer to those who share our bountiful world – the humans and the Ryss,” Bogrin said.
One of the inner ring of Sekoi stood. “Viceroy, the humans have always been reasonable, but the carnivores are breeding beyond all sense. Furthermore, without those who wear the Yellow to guide them, their memories grow short as their elders die, leaving a new generation that doesn’t remember our generosity and our valiance. These youngsters will soon take power, and when they look at us, all they see are herbivorous food beasts.”
Bogrin folded his hands across his torso and nodded sagely. “This is a concern. That is why my comrades and I will soon go to speak with the Humans, and then the Ryss, in order to settle this matter once and for all.”
***
Governor Colson received the three viceroys in his conference room, his cabinet sitting on one side of the table and Ezekiel, Trissk and Bogrin on the other.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” the smooth, urbane politician said. Short and fleshy, with a rotund face, Colson looked like the man next door, someone trustworthy and friendly. He didn’t reach out to clasp hands.
Ezekiel reminded himself that no one who got elected to the top spot of anything was to be discounted, and called upon the memories passed down from his mother, the Blend Raphaela, to fortify him.
“I bring Admiral Absen’s and Emperor Markis’ greetings,” Ezekiel said easily.
“Emperor? I remember when he was merely Chairman,” Colson said, eyes narrowing.
“The title was established by someone else. Someone you might have heard of – Spooky Nguyen – who’s since Blended and taken to calling himself Spectre. Markis intends to do away with the position eventually and re-establish the forms of a republic, but for now, the military situation is too dire for sweeping changes. You of all people should know that, since you just fought off a Scourge attack such a short time ago.”
“I – we – do know it,” Colson said. “We lost a lot of good people. That’s why I’m not willing to simply throw away the gains we’ve made in self-determination when someone from thirty-six light-years away shows up to claim lordship over us. We’re a democracy here. Why should we join some empire? We can defend ourselves.”
Trissk and Bogrin both laughed, though for entirely different reasons, and Ezekiel placed hands on their arms in a signal for calm. “Governor, you seem to be under the mistaken impression that you have somehow separated from Earth and its people. Let us reason together.”
Colson sat back, skepticism written on his face, as Ezekiel continued.
“First, the legitimate government of Earth was never destroyed, though it was suppressed and driven underground, literally and figuratively, for more than fifty years. When Admiral Absen and Spooky Nguyen freed Earth from the Meme occupation, that government re-emerged. It had never been deposed, as three of its legitimate representatives – Nguyen, Absen and Daniel Markis – provided continuity.”
“What if I disagreed?” Colson said. “What if I pointed out that Absen demoted himself to Captain, making Admiral Mirza the senior EarthFleet officer surviving? And that Nguyen abdicated his position as the leader of Australia to become a Steward, and then a civilian business owner here on Afrana? And finally, that Markis sat out the occupation in a coldsleep tube underground, not fighting back. How can he claim legitimacy when he had nothing to do with liberating Earth?”
Ezekiel grinned as a wolf might, with lips drawn back from his teeth. “You make some good points. But, how do you see yourself and the current human regime here?”
“We inherited the mantle of government by completely legal means, after conquest of this system. I liken it to, say, how Australia originally gained its independence after the mother country clearly had no say in ruling it from afar. Peac
efully, but inevitably.” Colson sat back with a confident smile. “And really, with the questions of legitimacy so open, doesn’t it make more sense to cut a deal than to try to rule a colony that doesn’t want to be part of your new empire?”
Ezekiel glanced at Bogrin. “The Sekoi have already agreed that they and their homeworld are part of ‘our empire,’ as you so correctly put it. We three, the Empire of Earth’s legitimate viceroys, have accepted their decision and their fealty. If you don’t, you will find yourself – legally speaking – unlawfully occupying the soil you live on, and therefore in rebellion.”
Colson’s face darkened. “Is that what you’re going to tell your buddies, the Ryss? Because they’re already in rebellion. My government is all that’s kept them and the Hippos from going to war with each other and they know it. If you declare us rebels, I’d bet my next paycheck the cats will join us…and between our warships and the Desolator super-ships, we hold the balance of military power in the system.”
“Ah, now the gloves come off,” murmured Trissk.
“You disagree, Elder Trissk?” Colson asked. “Do you want to be ruled from afar?”
“No,” the enormous feline answered, “but there is no honor or glory turning against our allies, no matter what the provocation, while the Scourges plot our extinction.”
“Between us,” Colson pressed, “we can defend this system and maintain our independence. Three equal nations, composed of human, Ryss and Sekoi, ruled by no one.” He leaned toward Trissk. “If we don’t insist on this now, we’ll never get the chance again. Right now, Earth needs us. Later on, they might not. We’ll never be in such a good bargaining position.”
“Your position,” Trissk said, “is based on false belief.” He turned to Ezekiel and gestured as if to say, go on.
Conquest and Empire (Stellar Conquest Series Book 5) Page 11
