"My Prince, I am receiving information that Perimeter Sector Nine Fleet Commander Svetlana ton Mesfelle is gathering a fleet from systems loyal to Duke Paolo royl Anjer in the Tian system. At present, the enemy has on the order of three hundred ships."
"How much time do they need to get to Forepost-4?" I clarified.
"No less than six days, your Highness."
It was worrying information, but it still didn't require an immediate response. It occurred to me that it would be nice to have a talk with Katerina ton Mesfelle on the situation that's developed. After all, the Sector Nine Fleet Commander was her niece, and there might have been some possible ways for this to go other than direct confrontation between two Orange House fleets. I went off to meet my cousin. Just to be safe, I didn't open her door with my electronic key and just walk in, as usual. First I knocked politely (it wouldn't be that surprising if my cousin was still sleeping, and there was no guarantee she would be alone).
"It's open!" a scream rang out from Katerina ton Mesfelle, and I walked in.
My eyebrows shot up immediately. It wasn't enough that my advisor really wasn't alone in the room, I had to also be well acquainted with her guest.
"I'm on my way out, Crown Prince," squeaked Corwin ton Ugar, looking brilliant in the space fleet captain's ceremonial uniform bedecked with combat medals as he really was preparing to slip by me into the hallway.
"Hey, stop!" Corwin ton Ugar was already half way out the door, but still stopped and turned around. "Captain, I'm reminded that we had an agreement for you not to show up on my ship or get near Astra."
"Your Highness, I had no thought in mind to break our agreement. I was invited to your flagship by Katerina ton Mesfelle as a guest, and I give you my word as an officer that I have never once left her cabin."
"Georg, what are you getting mad for? You told me to get some before the party, and all I did was listen to your advice. Cory is fun to talk to, a gallant gentleman and a great art expert."
I gave an incredulous chuckle. I'd heard that song before. The captain coughed, turning my attention to him:
"By the way, as we're talking about art... Commander, would it be too much to ask you to sign your work, as is generally accepted practice among artists? To be honest, you really won me over. I truly did want to acquire Astra ton Veyerde's painting. Based on the price of the first canvas, the second work of this talented girl would be worth at least forty, probably more like fifty million credits. That kind of money would be able to return my poverty-stricken aristocratic family to its former glory and guarantee a secure future. I really admired that move on your part a lot, Crown Prince. It was a very elegant plan. But the problem is that I really have been taking art lessons since a young age. My father, Vesar ton Ugar, is one of the leading experts at the Academy of Fine Arts in the Nessi system, and he spent a lot of effort trying to get me follow in his footsteps. And though in the end I chose the path of a soldier, like my mother, I can still tell when an abstract painting was done by a man or woman, even with my eyes closed."
What a twist! I laughed joyously, so unexpected was the turn in this story. Of course I would agree to sign my work.
"And how much might it be worth?" I wondered from the art expert.
"It's a unique work, in place, style, and artist. The value of these kinds of rarities usually starts in the hundreds of millions of credits. I would think you could get one hundred thirty million easily, just from one of my father's rich acquaintances. But I'll never sell this masterpiece, Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle. The very fact that I possess such a masterpiece will return greatness to the Ugar dynasty for generations to come. And as for my visit to your relative Katerina ton Mesfelle... That was up to her, of course, but don't get me wrong. I came to her bunk with no ulterior motives, and very serious intentions."
When the door closed behind Corwin ton Ugar, I flopped down into the big soft bed and asked the room's owner to get a light breakfast together for her cousin, and at the same time tell me about her niece Svetlana.
"I mean, what is there to tell... she's hardcore. Ambitious, goal-driven to the point of fanaticism, extremely greedy for fame. If you're thinking of trying to negotiate peace with her or buying her off, it definitely won't work. When she was about ten, Svetlana suddenly became confident that she would definitely become a famous warrior. Since that time, my niece has done nothing but stubbornly pursue her goal. Against the will of her parents, she left the prestigious Fine Arts Academy and applied to the Space Military Academy, where she graduated with honors, gained experience in the Imperial fleet for a few years, and built up a great resume. And then, through her uncle Count Avalle royl Anjer ton Mesfelle, she got to the point of being appointed to defend Perimeter Sector Nine."
Katerina put a mug of hot energizing drink in front of me and pulled a plate of small sweet and savory cookies closer and continued her speech.
"I'll tell you honestly, Georg, I see no way of avoiding a conflict. From my perspective, for Svetlana, this is a question of prestige... First, you formally raised her alarm when you invaded territory under her control with your fleet, so she has no choice but to react. Second, Perimeter Sector Nine is one of the calmest of the eighteen sectors. They have no problems with pirates or Aliens, nor any factions hostile to the Empire. There isn't even any non-terrestrial intelligent life. Catching smugglers is boring and brings no prestige. As such, Svetlana ton Mesfelle won't spare you a thing, if only just to show to everyone else that she's not getting fed for nothing. Third, as I've already said, she's a very ambitious girl. It's going to be important for her to show everyone and above all else herself that she surpasses you as a fleet commander. Fourth, and we shouldn't forget this, it's personal. The sharp rise of your father Inoky seventy years ago shook up the order of succession to the throne both of the Empire and the Orange House. Inoky's children became recognized as part of the main branch of the Mesfelles, and received the title of crown prince. Roben, Violetta and you put the other members of the Mesfelle dynasty on the back burners. If Inoky hadn't had any children, then Svetlana ton Mesfelle would have received a 'royl' attached to her name. I'm sure that my niece hasn't forgotten about that for a second."
"I understand you, cousin. Well, if there's no way to avoid a conflict, all we can do is prepare for it. I think it's time to play the bad boy. We can't let their giving us a negative standing go to waste. And I promise you, Katerina, that the meeting will take place on our terms."
* * *
"They'll be leaving warp in one minute!" Nicole Savoia reported, looking especially collected.
"Great! All ships, attention! I repeat my order once again: we are only to target them. No one is to fire without my command. As soon as the enemy fleet shows up, assign targets. I need five webs and warp disruptors on the battleships Svetlana the Great and Svetlana Mesfelle. We'll put ten webs on each of the sixteen heavy cruisers. Electros, deafen the enemy destroyers. Any enemy ship that goes into action is to be immediately destroyed. That is all. Ten seconds to action. Get ready!"
The Truth Seeker was not mistaken. The Perimeter Sector Nine Fleet came exactly when Florianna had predicted. There was a long 30-mile-long "hot dog" of frigates and destroyers, and twelve miles behind that was a thick group of the main ships: two battleships, sixteen heavy cruisers, and thirty light ones. I suspect that the enemy ships hadn't even finished loading a tactical map of the system before my frigates had already arrived in a thick cloud to stop the movement of the most dangerous starships. I took the microphone and spoke on the loudspeaker.
"Greetings, colleagues from Sector Nine! I see you were in no rush to pay us a visit. We've been here three days already with nothing to do. Svetlana, tell your ships, in the interest of avoiding unnecessary casualties, that any starship that moves from its place will be destroyed immediately. And yes, don't try shooting or disarming those glorious thermonuclear mines over there, placed along your light ships. They'll go off with such a blast that none of your five hundr
ed frigates and destroyers will survive. Have you let them know yet?"
"What do you want, Georg?" the pretty young woman came on screen wearing an Orange House Starfleet uniform. Her facial features were very reminiscent of Katerina's.
Boom! Boom! Two red markers disappeared from the tactical map. Minus one light cruiser and destroyer from the Sector Nine Fleet.
"Svetlana, what the hell? Two of your ships didn't get the message and tried to flee! I don't want to have to play animal breeder here, raising the average IQ in your fleet by removing the dumbest members of the population. Order your captains now, clearly and loudly, to turn off their main propulsion thrusters and power down their energy shields. I remind you that all of your ships can be destroyed in less than a second. You are still alive and only thanks to my good will."
"Our commander will never give in to blackmail from an impostor such as yourself!" someone's fairly rude voice rang out from off screen.
"Svetlana, turn the camera a bit to the side. I want to see who that is yelping behind you there with my own eyes."
The commander frowned in dissatisfaction, but turned a bit to the side. A middle-aged, well-built man in an admiral's uniform came into view on camera. And that admiral continued being fresh straight to my face:
"All your victories are fake, a bunch of CGI bullshit. Do you think we don't know? It doesn't even matter though, because the court will deprive you of your title for this shady business!"
I turned to the Truth Seeker and pointed with a nod at the admiral, who was behaving very rudely:
"Florianna, this rude fellow has lost his sense of reality and is insulting a Crown Prince. Do with him as Imperial law prescribes."
"It will be done, Prince Georg. There's something I've been wanting to try out..."
Then, a second later, the admiral on screen froze, clutched at his chest and slowly collapsed onto the floor with a hissing sound. Three seconds he spent trying to get any air into his wide-open mouth with bulging eyes, then he fell on his side and went silent.
Global standing decrease. Current value -33
Standing change. Green House (Empire) opinion of you has worsened.
Present Green House (Empire) faction opinion of you: -34 (opposed)
Standing change. The Green House's opinion of the Orange house has worsened.
Present Green House opinion of Orange House: -9 (mistrusting)
Some attack... God dammit... As luck would have it, this suicidal troublemaker was a member of the Green House aristocracy. All I needed now was for that old story with the Lavaelles to bubble up again... Trying not to show my emotions, I wondered aloud in a calm voice:
"Is there anyone remaining who wishes to speak rudely to an Imperial Crown Prince? No? Then I repeat my demand: Svetlana ton Mesfelle, order your ships to turn off their thrusters and power down their energy shields. As you can see, it is in your best interest. If a battle does start, you will lose, and it will be a shutout. Your battleships and cruisers are, excuse me for the expression, sitting ducks with their weak rear shields facing my biggest cannons. All I'd need is a minute and a half to turn all your large ships into atoms, and the little guys are gonna die as soon as the bombs are detonated. Imagine losing your whole fleet, which surpasses mine in number by one and a half times in one stupid, pointless battle and to be completely defeated all in one fell swoop. It would be the ruin of your brilliant career as a fleet commander. After something like what would happen, no one would even trust you with a rusty frigate. If there isn't a battle, you'll retain your ships and your name."
"Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky, please promise me that I will keep all of the Sector Nine Fleet's ships," the woman on screen asked, clearly worrying, biting her lip at the same time.
"I am no enemy of the Perimeter Sector Nine Fleet and would make no claim against your ships, Svetlana ton Mesfelle. Insofar as I know, your fleet initially had around ninety ships. The rest are hurriedly collected reserves from systems loyal to Duke Paolo. I give you my word as an Imperial Crown Prince: all of your fleet's ships will remain under your command. As for the five hundred other starships of various quality level you've gathered here, we'll see. It's just that I've got some issues with the head of the Orange House and the Sector Nine star systems that support him, and as such it is fully within my rights to lay claim to these trophies. Maybe I'll be able to make good use of some of these starships. You can decide what to do with the rest of them."
Svetlana ton Mesfelle flipped a switch on screen and said loudly and clearly:
"This is the Sector Nine fleet commander. This order is for all ships: turn off thrusters, disarm cannons, power down energy shields."
After that, the woman on the screen slumped down heavily into her seat, covered her face with her hands and said wearily:
"Duke Paolo will never forgive me for this. So I have nothing more to lose. I'll take your advice, Crown Prince, and take all the trophy ships you don’t need into my fleet. I have just one question: how were you able to get your fleet into such an advantageous position right behind my ships? How did you know what formation my fleet would come out of warp in? Truth Seeker?"
"Not only. My cloaked frigates have been following your fleet for four star systems, and studied your typical formation. It's nice for catching smugglers: light frigates come out right by the station and catch the heedless transgressors. Heavy ships arrive at an optimal distance for firing and ready to intervene right away if criminals try to resist."
Svetlana ton Mesfelle gave a tortured smile:
"I've grown moldy here in the peace of Sector Nine and become too predictable..."
"The enemy ships have all surrendered without resistance," reported Admiral Kiro Sabuto just then.
* * *
The Perimeter Sector Eight Fleet traversed the Sector Nine systems, meeting no resistance along the way. Svetlana ton Mesfelle gave me quite the warm farewell, telling me with her parting words that the conflict in the Orange House was a matter that was only relevant to the quarrelling parties, and that it in no way intersected with either her own personal sphere of interest, nor that of the Perimeter Sector Nine Fleet.
My advisor, Katerina ton Mesfelle, was starting to grow tired of accepting and sending me one and the same message from every star system on our path: a declaration of friendship and full support. Technocracies, oligarchies, and monarchies alike all retracted their support of Duke Paolo royl Anjer, recalling their deputies from the Orange House Capital as they did so.
A delegation from the local rulers was sent out to meet my flagship, Emperor August, in practically every star system. Free repair. Access to Sector Nine docks. Buying ships on very favorable terms. Just insane amounts of money in support of our struggle with the Aliens. The rulers of the Sector Nine star systems were trying to outdo each other with their increasingly gushy welcome speeches. There were gifts for Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle and all those in his inner circle.
For some reason, the most presents of all went to my favorite. Having fully waited out her punishment, Astra participated in all ceremonies and was simply immersing herself in the societal attention. It got to the point that my bunk on the cruiser was turned into storage for a combination jewelry shop and women's clothing store.
"Now this is the life I always dreamed of!" the Princess exclaimed, opening yet another gift.
But I did not share her enthusiasm at all. The time limit set by the Emperor to make peace with the Orange House head was running out all too quickly, while the number of star systems supporting Duke Paolo royl Anjer remained, as before, in his favor. And as for the gifts, it's nothing but perfect rot, baubles, rarely exceeding even a million credits in value. And as for the new ships I had gained, the situation was a bit grimmer...
Yes, it had grown by almost one hundred fifty ships after managing to avoid the battle, but the only heavies among them were four Katanas and a couple of Thrushes. The remaining haul was just small-class ships. About ten Surgeon-class destroyer
s, and the same number of Flycatchers, as well as one hundred twenty Pyros. What I really needed in the fleet was battleships and heavy cruisers, but there turned out to have been a serious problem with them. There simply were none available for purchase in Sector Nine, and I didn't have the time to wait several months for them to be built. Also, certain problems with logistics arose during the purchase. There was absolutely no way to be sure that the Swarm would allow my ships to return through their territory a few months from now, for example. The Iseyek had already made it clear that they had a very singular interpretation of the signed contract. They were prepared to let all the Sector Eight fleet ships through, but no others.
But just then, something happened that changed my plans completely.
"Your Highness, urgent incoming long-distance call!" the voice of the orderly officer was wavering in panic.
"Who is it?" I wondered.
I wasn't really planning on talking with anyone, as I was in a rush to see Nicosid Brandt. The old doctor was supposed to remove another set of staples and stitches from my face today. However, the communications officer's worry seemed strange to me, which is why I asked about it nevertheless.
"It's Emperor August royl Toll ton Akad!" said the officer.
"Put him through!" I creaked, my voice jumping in panic. I quickly got myself back together, and turned on the screen.
August was wearing a black and silver suit, which spoke to the official nature of the conversation. I bowed down instantly and lowered my head before the Emperor.
"I am endlessly glad at the honor of greeting your Imperial Highness!"
"You may stand, Georg! This is not an official conversation, I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions. Before answering, tell me, are you lost? Why has the Sector Eight Fleet been outside it's assigned zone of responsibility for so long?"
Beyond Death (Perimeter Defense Book #2) Page 26
