She activated a holo and directed her most circumspect stare at it. “This is Field Marshal Gianno. I don’t believe we’ve met, Ms. Rossi.”
A striking woman with unbound blonde curls bestowed a sparkling smile on Gianno. “We haven’t, Field Marshal Gianno, but it’s a pleasure.”
“Highly irregular is what it is, so I’ll ask you to come to your purpose with due speed.”
Rossi’s eyebrow arched for a fraction of a second before she reverted to flawless poise. “Certainly, Marshal. I wish to discuss the possibility of entering into a license with the Senecan Federation government or military for the production of adiamene.”
Graham almost choked on the coffee he’d been sipping; Gianno’s normal composure cracked into a veneer of shocked incredulity.
She did succeed in keeping her tone neutral. “The Alliance has outlawed the sale of adiamene to or by anyone other than their government. Thankfully for us, we have our own contract with them.”
“Forgive me, Marshal, but I didn’t think the Senecan Federation held itself subject to Earth Alliance laws.”
“Oh, we don’t. But you do, do you not?”
“Not any longer.”
Graham tilted his head in curiosity. If true, this was news. He indicated for Gianno to dig deeper.
“I’ll need you to be more specific, Ms. Rossi.”
The woman flashed another perfect smile. “I understand. My business, Connova Interstellar, has recently relocated to Romane, so it’s no longer subject to those laws, either.”
Interesting. The Rossi family had been among the staunchest supporters of the Earth Alliance since before there was an Earth Alliance. If they’d run off its heir apparent, things on Earth must be getting nasty indeed. It was also the second time someone moving to Romane had come up this evening. But it was a popular place, so this one might really be just a coincidence.
Gianno was unimpressed with the explanation—at least outwardly. “Nevertheless, the patent was filed under Earth Alliance law. Simply picking up and moving doesn’t eradicate all the issues.”
“Yes.” The woman lifted her chin. “Fortunately, I’ve also recently filed the patent on Romane, Pandora and Sagan. If we’re able to reach an arrangement, I’ll be happy to file it on Seneca as well.”
Laws and the enforcement of them got fuzzy once you stepped outside of Alliance or Federation jurisdiction. It would be a little dicey, and the Alliance would protest and bluster, but Rossi could probably make it work. Graham gave Gianno a quick nod of assent.
“Are you planning on selling adiamene to private manufacturers as well?”
Rossi beamed, and only then did he realize the previous offers of cordiality had been for show, for this one was blatantly real. “I intend to do one better than that—I’m going to sell them the ships I build using it.”
5
ROMANE
INDEPENDENT COLONY
CONNOVA INTERSTELLAR OFFICES
* * *
KENNEDY ONLY BARELY MANAGED to cut the connection before collapsing back in her chair in a fit of laughter. “Damn, that was fun!”
Mia Requelme found herself enjoying the mirth, especially once Noah Terrage tossed her a beer on his way to relaxing against the edge of Kennedy’s desk. As far as Mia had seen, it was his default seating when in the office. “The woman is legendary for her coolness under any and all pressure, but I definitely saw a few cracks form.”
“It’s a game of power, but half of what makes a person powerful is the appearance of it.” Kennedy dipped her chin graciously at Mia. “I couldn’t have pulled off such a coup without you. Thanks.”
Mia nodded in acknowledgment and sipped on the beer. They—she, Morgan and Devon—had been checking in on Director Delavasi and Marshal Gianno via sidespace for the last several days, hoping to catch a whiff of their intentions with respect to Morgan. It turned out those were about as predicted. Morgan didn’t even seem taken aback by the confirmation killing her was on the table as an option, if an unlikely one.
Morgan: Once upon a time deserters were shot by firing squad in front of their unit. In the military, execution is and has always been an option.
Mia shuddered inwardly. But it’s different when you’re the one in the crosshairs, right?
Morgan: Sure, but not until I’m actually in the crosshairs. Which I’m not. Not today.
They were also curious as to Seneca’s plans regarding the adiamene dust-up, and they’d lucked out on both accounts when Delavasi went to meet with the Field Marshal.
She sat with Noah and Kennedy in Connova Interstellar’s new digs on the twenty-third floor of Serrana Tower in the heart of Romane’s capital. The late-afternoon rays of Romane’s suns streamed through the windows to confer a warm, pleasant glow on the office. It was…nice. Comfortable. It almost felt…well, it almost felt normal.
She’d rented a condo a few blocks away for now, and possibly for longer. Today might feel normal, but buying another home seemed a bit too much like tempting fate.
When she’d found out Noah and Kennedy were leaving Erisen for an independent world, she’d lobbied hard for them to come to Romane. It had been an easy case to make, for Romane objectively was the best place from which to launch Connova.
Noah shot Kennedy an adoring look. “You had her so off-balance you were able to wrangle an extra five percent in fees per tonne. With that we can buy a second design emulator.”
He’d always projected an easy, fun-loving, good-times demeanor, but now Noah acted genuinely happy. Weird. She’d never have put the two of them together for longer than a one-night tryst, but many months in, it appeared to be working out. Kennedy was proving to be far more complex than Mia had foolishly judged her to be on first impression, too, which might explain it. They’d never be friends, but she had to respect the woman for giving the proverbial finger to the most powerful government in existence and billions in wealth.
On the interior wall, the news feed blasted an alert, and all eyes inexorably drifted to the screen. Multiple powder kegs were set to blow across settled space. Eventually one would, doubtless followed by the rest.
“More than eighty people are reported dead at the Government Administration Center on Andromeda following an incursion by unidentified commandos. The deceased include Governor Karas, the Assistant Governor, the Chief of Staff and numerous other government officials.
“Hold on—we’re receiving some sort of communication from the Andromeda government’s official channel. It states that in light of the absence of a functioning governmental infrastructure, martial law has been declared and a ‘new administration installed.’
“We’ve been given no indication who is leading this new administration or from where they derive their authority. It’s possible the message originates from the attackers. Given that local law enforcement has been unable to retake the complex, this raises the possibility of a coup or an outright takeover by outside parties.”
Noah snorted. “That’s not going to go over well on Seneca. Andromeda may be independent, but it’s damn close to the Federation border.”
“And it’s the fourth independent colony without an operational government after what went down on Argo Navis last week. No way is it happenstance.” Mia glanced out the window, then back at the screen.
She set her drink on the table beside her chair and stood. “Sorry, but I have to run. I need to see the governor.”
Mia had sent a message to Governor Ledesme letting the woman know she’d returned to Romane a few days after arriving. She wasn’t hiding, and she had no desire to create the impression she was. Vacating herself and Meno from EASC was not illegal—she’d been a ward, not a prisoner—and as for the other aspects of her departure? For better or worse, they’d blame Devon long before her.
Abigail had said Admiral Solovy wasn’t inclined to come after them, though it didn’t mean other officials wouldn’t. The reasons for the admiral’s leniency weren’t entirely clear to Mia, but she was grateful for i
t. Honestly, given Caleb’s message to her and now this unexpected boon, she wished she could have handled the escape a little differently.
“The governor will see you now.”
She thanked the secretary and stepped inside the office.
Madison Ledesme observed her with shrewd eyes. “Ms. Requelme, please come in.”
“Madame Governor.”
Ledesme studied her a moment longer. “Perhaps we ought to loosen up on the formalities. We worked together through difficult times, and you did protect Romane from tremendous destruction, saving many lives and nearly sacrificing your own in the process.”
Mia gave her a breezy smile and sat in one of the chairs opposite the governor’s desk. “I was glad to do it.” The saving Romane, not the nearly dying, which she assumed Ledesme understood.
“So, what can I do for you today?”
“You’ve seen the news about Andromeda?”
Ledesme nodded. “It’s troubling. It would be easy to write it off as a consequence of the colony never fully recovering from the Metigen attack, but I know—knew—Karas. He was no weakling. Also a good man. And they dumped his tortured body off the roof like yesterday’s garbage.”
“I’m sorry.”
“As am I. At this rate in a few months only the strongest independents will be left standing, which is not a situation we want to see develop.”
“It will make it easier for the Alliance and Federation to attack the underpinnings of the entire independent colony system, and I’ve no doubt you’ll want to begin strengthening your position for such an eventuality. But I’m concerned about a more immediate threat.”
Ledesme looked at her sharply. “The events which transpired on Argo Navis and Andromeda can’t happen here. We’re vastly stronger. Our defenses dwarf those of all the fallen colonies combined, and our governmental structure is far more institutionalized.”
Mia struggled to keep her posture rigid as the weight of deciding to speak out and stand up pressed upon her chest yet again. “If I’m right about what’s behind those offensives, you’re not strong enough. Not yet. But I want to help you get there.”
“Reason dictates that you’re not here to warn me about another imminent alien invasion. But it also suggests I should not be surprised that you yet again know something the rest of us don’t. So tell me, Ms. Requelme. What is coming for us?”
Like me. Not like me. Infinitely worse.
Envision someone, something, wielding all the powers of an Artificial and none of the conscience. Artificials are believed by some to be evil, but even the most destructive can justify their decisions using their own moral scales. The human soul, however, is capable of far greater depravity, and when one so inclined is granted the power of an Artificial…we haven’t seen its kind before, because it’s never existed before. Add in vast wealth and resources, and it frightens me. It should frighten everyone.
She voiced none of this. But she’d chosen the word ‘what’ instead of ‘who’ deliberately, for two reasons. First, she wanted to minimize any association which might arise due to them sharing a single characteristic. Also, she wasn’t certain the woman had ever been human, but regardless, she appeared to no longer suffer from the condition.
Mia exhaled and allowed her mouth to set into a grim line. “Olivia Montegreu.”
6
SPACE, NORTHEAST QUADRANT
ITERO STELLAR SYSTEM
* * *
TWO LONELY VESSELS ORBITED ITERO, one representing the Alliance and one the Federation.
They kept their distance from one another, but not so far as to prevent them from monitoring the other’s actions. This was the entire reason the ships patrolled here—to ensure the other party didn’t decide it was tired of waiting on the proper authorities to rule on jurisdiction and take control of the planet.
The beacons transmitted a laughably pathetic message:
Source: 2nd Planetary Body of Stellar System XX-53
Jurisdiction: To be determined
Notice: This system is under review by the Inter-Governmental Conflict Resolution Board. Any inquiries should be directed to the Board. No landings or other activities in the system are permitted at this time.
The arrogance implicit in the message amused Olivia. The notion any of them—the Alliance or Federation governments or this absurd Board they’d created out of thin air—could simply declare that no activities were permitted on a planet none of them owned represented the height of hubris.
She did not recognize their authority, however, and as on any unclaimed planet and most claimed ones, she would do whatever she damn well pleased.
“Eliminate both vessels, then destroy the beacons and replace them with ours.” The order went out to the six merc ships under her command.
The patrolling vessels never saw the attack coming, and in short order the first of her beacons began transmitting a new, more appropriate message:
Source: 2nd Planetary Body of Stellar System XX-53
Jurisdiction: Zelones
Notice: Itero and all objects in this system, celestial or otherwise, are now the property of the Zelones organization. Unauthorized visitors will be shot on detection.
“All parties, commence Phase One operations.” Phase One included establishment of robust orbital defenses as well as assembly of temporary structures at the selected colonization site. She was bringing considerable resources to bear here, and her presence needed to be established with due speed, before the various authorities removed their thumbs from their asses and attempted to take it from her.
36.2% likelihood any ever attempt it.
If not attempted in the first 100 hours, 12.8% likelihood they succeed.
“Take us down to the site. I want to oversee the initial construction.”
The pilot nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She endured the rocky atmospheric transit; an atmosphere corridor was not slated until Phase Two. Regrettable, but prioritization was necessary.
When they landed, she stepped out onto a field of soft, golden grasses.
This really was such a more pleasant place than New Babel. She wouldn’t be moving her base of operations, at least not for the foreseeable future, but Itero made for a refreshing change from both her home and Dolos Station. She needed a strong foothold on the eastern side of settled space—a bookend to New Babel. Itero would serve that role perfectly.
Yes, perfectly indeed. The business she intended to conduct here—distribution at first, production later—could be performed anywhere. In truth, this move was above all else about the blatant, unabashed projection of power.
For years, for centuries, the Zelones organization had operated in the shadows. Despite immense wealth and influence, it had been forced to remain hidden, denied the public respect it had always been due.
No more.
Her ships began landing and unloading materials and equipment. Within minutes, construction had begun. In orbit high above her, defense turrets were now being positioned. She’d eschewed the bulky, high-maintenance arrays most colonies used in favor of newly designed networked turrets with independent movement. Her research department—primarily her Artificial, acting through her as needed—had developed some nice improvements in targeting and propulsion which greatly increased the turrets' effectiveness and reliability.
They were also far easier to deploy. When she confirmed the turrets were active, her multi-branching list of objectives and the actions required to achieve them updated to reflect the acquisition of Itero. It was time to share the news.
She sent a message to a dozen of the highest Alliance and Federation authorities and to the entire Inter-Governmental Conflict Resolution Board.
To Those Who Believe Themselves To Be In Charge:
It’s a shame to let such a lovely world go to waste while you squabble over it endlessly, so I’ve taken it for myself. You should consider adopting a more decisive approach toward future finds, or I may take them as well.
Good day
.
— Olivia Montegreu
7
SENECA
CAVARE
SENECAN FEDERATION HEADQUARTERS
* * *
“ARE THEY JOKING?”
James Abbate cleared his throat. “I’m afraid not, Chairman.”
Vranas’ expression of disbelief extended all the way to his hands, raised with palms open as his gaze ran across the Cabinet meeting attendees. “The Alliance’s reaction to the Itero jurisdiction dispute is to request that all potential claims be put before the Inter-Governmental Conflict Resolution Board before being made, so the Board can adjudicate who deserves the rights. Have they learned nothing in twenty-three years?”
Abbate stared at the table. “I can’t answer that, sir.”
“The answer is implied in the statement, Consul.”
Erik Ingle, Director of the Interstellar Development Agency, spoke up. “How should we respond?”
Graham offered a middle finger as a suggested response; Vranas acknowledged it with a tilt of his head. “Our response will be a polite but firm ‘no’—but not yet. Ingle, I understand your people have discovered a promising world south of our border, one with low gravity and rich in minerals. One which happens to be located approximately halfway between Messium and Pyxis.”
“Yes, sir. The gravity is too low for a residential colony, but it’s ideal for manufacturing and research.”
“Excellent. Begin internal claiming and clearance procedures immediately. As soon as the claim is official, then we’ll deliver our response to the Board.”
“Understood.”
“Marshal Gianno, see to manufacturing a few ships on this new world in the near future.”
“Ships with adiamene hulls, I assume?”
“Most assuredly. Don’t move everything—keep most of the construction on our central worlds—but enough to attract attention.”
“Consider it done.”
Dissonance: Aurora Renegades Book Two (Aurora Rhapsody 5) Page 4
