It was as if Miya was smiling and joking, but the sound of her voice made your hair stand on end, and gave you the feeling of ants crawling on your skin. I noticed a dribbling sound coming from Florianna's flying chair onto the floor. The paralyzed girl, who had been fighting bravely against eight more experienced enemies bravely until that point, suddenly panicked at the sight of her tormentor. Miya turned to the girl she had paralyzed and said:
"Don't worry, little girl. I'm not here for your soul today. We're even going to have to spend some time side by side... By the way, dummy, what are you doing?! Why are you letting all the pain go to you? Give it to others! Not me, bird brains! Just others."
"I pass!" Count Avalle's Truth Seeker suddenly declared, and one of the windows went dark.
And suddenly, I stopped caring about the screen of enemies. I was struck by such pain that I wanted to howl and climb up the walls. It felt like my skeleton was being ripped right out of my body.
“Sorry, Prince Georg. There just wasn't anyone else to give my pain too. I am only connected to you, my sister and your main Truth Seeker. Astra is too far away, and I cannot share my sensations with her."
"No problem, I'll deal with it," I squeaked out, trying not to lose consciousness and fall on the floor.
"The Crown Prince needs your help!" Miya explained to the officers, worked up by what was happening. "The enemy Truth Seekers are attacking Prince Georg royl Inoky. The commander needs your support, your respect, your love."
"Georg! Georg! Georg!" The team began chanting in unison.
At the same time, Miya's cold voice rang out in my head:
"Ruslan, hold on, it's about to get easier. Share your pain with your subjects. There's thirty people in this room, so you can totally rid yourself of all unpleasant sensations. And even if one of your subjects doesn't survive, it's no tragedy. I sense that the attack's intensity has already begun to fall."
"No, that's not right, Miya!" I said decisively, standing to my feet. "Get me a direct broadcast immediately to the whole Sector Eight Fleet!"
The cameras had just managed to turn on when I began speaking into the microphone. At first, it was hard to move my lips, as I had bit them until they bled, but then the consternation and pain began to pass gradually. I told my captains about the depraved attack, and about how little Florianna had held it off all on her own. And how Miya had come to the rescue just in time. How seven frightening enemy Truth Seekers were now working together, stretching their abilities for all they were worth, but could not do anything. I said with a confident smile that our enemies had made a miscalculation. Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky had better defense than any armored suit or energy shield could provide: the adoration of the Sector Eight Fleet. And the pain being sent could be shared between tens of thousands of crew members and wouldn't be felt at all.
"My Prince, add four hundred thousand Alpha Iseyek from the Tria to your calculations. My assault troops are used to bearing any pain and are also prepared to die for you," Bionica said, translating General Savasss Jach's trill that had interrupted my speech.
"Our enemies have begun to weaken. The intensity of the attack is on the decline," Florianna reported, already completely coming back to and radiating confidence.
Miya did not agree with Flora:
"Little one, you give in too early. I sense that the Crown Prince's mental block has been broken. Our enemies may read something from Ruslan's memory, and that is not permissible. As such, we cannot allow any of the seven to get out alive. And when the Truth Seekers figure out that the jokes are over, and this battle is to the death, they will fight with extra abandon. For now, we're just grinding them down. Let them think that they're just attacking me, you and your overgrown cockroaches. And as soon as I gather the energy, we'll go on the counter attack. I'll teach you to kill properly."
"My Prince, the United Fleet's starships have started showing up on our radar systems! They're getting closer! A huge number of markers!"
Oh well, it was unavoidable. My ships' coordinates had been calculated, and Duke Paolo had thrown his armada into battle, wishing to take us down in one fell swoop. I glanced at the timer. There were fourteen minutes left until the reinforcements from the Docks would arrive. I just needed to hold out. I readjusted the microphone on my uniform, and said:
"All ships, attention! Begin acceleration toward the sun. Realign into battle formation. Heavy guns and Tria, stay by Joan the Fatty. Light cruisers and electros, at the ready. Let's see where the enemy comes out of warp and choose our formation based on that. Frigates and destroyers, hold course forward. Keep two hundred in front of the flagship."
The fleet began maneuvers. The ships realigned and started accelerating toward the local star. Suddenly, the tactical map grid took on a red color. The United Fleet came out of warp near us in several long hot dog shapes, clearly having set prewarp from different directions.
"Multiple targets. Two thousand four hundred thirty marks. One hundred miles to the nearest group. The enemy has a total of forty-four battleships on the battle field, and one hundred ninety heavy cruisers..."
"My Prince, incoming call from the heavy assault cruiser Marta the Harlot," the communications officer interrupted the tactician's report.
What I wanted to do was sharply object to my subject's very untimely message, however, the ship's familiar name stopped me. Princess Marta appeared on screen, though I hardly recognized my own wife. In the last months, she had clearly gotten some work done on her face, and also intensively worked on her figure, losing a few spare pounds and turning her somewhat horrific hippo’s body into a much more presentable one. No, Marta hadn't become skinny, but now her body's slight plumpness and roundness looked natural and even pleasing to the eye.
"Georg, please show my ships their place in formation," Marta requested.
What is this: enemy trickery or an honest desire to help? Should I give the exact coordinates of my fleet to ships in the United Fleet? The risk was huge as, in the case of error, I would have two thousand enemy ships prewarping "to zero" and a fast battle. On the other hand, what if Marta really did want to support her husband in this general battle? To believe or not to believe? Looking for a hint, I glanced at Miya and Flora, but they were clearly not thinking about me at that moment: the battle was raging with a renewed fury between the nine Truth Seekers. I would have to solve the dilemma myself, so I risked it:
"Admiral Kiro Sabuto, accept the Kingdom of Fastel ships, give them coordinates for prewarp, communications passwords, and show them their positions in formation.
On the tactical map, fifty red dots jumped right into the middle of the green ball and instantly turned to green. I waited in anticipation of what would come next, but nothing bad happened. The coordinate data did not leak out to the enemy.
"Heavy cruisers Marta the Harlot, Fastel Hero, and King Valesy, hold tight on the edge, 30 miles from Joan the Fatty. And also, Marta, thank you!"
"There's a group of enemy ships right in our fleet's path!" Nicole Savoia pointed out, and I also saw it myself.
Around sixty fast frigates and destroyers from the United Fleet were outstripping the Perimeter Sector Eight Fleet and were now on in my ships' path. Of course, I could send out my frigates and destroyers to mop up the path for the heavy cruisers. But the main difficulty was in the fact that Duke Paolo's other ships could warp out to the small group of starships at any moment. Exchanging fire with such an obvious numbers advantage and the enemy having more reserves was not at all in my interest. Though, there was no reason to rush...
"Attention, all ships! Joan the Fatty is to stop. All the other ships are to take an orbit around the flagship. Destroyers, on high alert! An attack on our fleet by enemy stealth bombers is possible."
* * *
Time passed, and nothing changed. The Sector Eight Fleet now looked like a swarming bait ball or a curled-up hedgehog. The enemy's many ships were circling at an unreachable distance, still not risking approaching. Earlier, some excessiv
ely self-confident cruisers and destroyers of the United Fleet had been turned into a collection picturesque fragments. That was what happened to the Duke's stealth bomber division, for example, which was completely wiped out together with the bombs it released. But the most illustrative example was the enemy Varan battleship's attempt to get into firing distance. My fleet released four thousand drones at once, and the enemy battleship was no more. No shield recharging from any number of Surgeons could have saved them. By the way, the remains of twenty-five Surgeons, bitten down by the drones, made a harmonious addition to the huge remains of the exploded battleship.
After that, the enemy starships stopped making active attempts to approach my fleet. No one was in a rush to end up the same as their fallen comrades. I was also not rushing the events, drinking vitamin-enriched energy drink to restore my strength and looking from time to time at the countdown. There were just a few minutes left until our reserves showed up. The battle, de facto, had already been won by the Sector Eight Fleet, though our enemy had yet to suspect as much. I took another look at the time, and decisively swigged the drink down. It's time! This war in the Orange House needed not only to be won, but to be won with style!
"Connect me with Duke Paolo royl Anjer," I demanded to the officer.
No less than a minute went by before the head of the Orange House appeared on screen. The Duke was trying to put on a brave face, and had clearly just been using the services of a make-up artist, but I still saw that the man before me was old and extremely tired.
"I've been expecting your call, Georg!" the old man on screen smiled. "The Sector Eight Fleet has wandered right into the dragon's den, but clearly didn't know our forces. Your ships are surrounded and doomed. I have retransmitted our conversation to all ships in the United Fleet just for the occasion, so all of the Orange House crews could be witness to your capitulation."
"Excellent, Duke Paolo. Now that our conversation has become public property I, as Imperial Crown Prince and Perimeter Sector Eight Fleet Commander, officially suggest that you surrender."
"What???" on my last words, the self-satisfied smile crawled off the Orange House Head's face. He was clearly counting on the exact opposite ending to my sentence.
"I repeat my words once again. Give in or be annihilated! Duke, you have blackened your name with many dirty deeds: embezzlement, blackmail, forgery, extortion, threatening to kill Crown Prince Roben royl Inoky, and repeated attempts to kill two other Crown Princes: Georg royl Roben ton Mesfelle, and Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle. Also, you betrayed the Orange House by signing a treaty with the Swarm to destroy the Perimeter Sector Eight Fleet..."
Miya appeared behind my back, and walked on screen, speaking into the camera with her one-of-a-kind icy voice:
"I officially affirm the truth of each of the accusations made by Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle. I swear on my abilities as a Truth Seeker, that everything he said is accurate!"
Miya looked spectacular and convincing, but the Head of the Orange House objected with his creaking old-man's voice:
"Georg, you cannot call your own Truth Seeker as a witness. She is too dependent on you and would say anything you order! I could just as easily call Selena ton Bist, and she would say the exact opposite!"
"No, Paolo, I'm afraid that would not be possible," Miya smiled, demonstrating her flawless white teeth. "Selena ton Bist is dead, as are all the other Truth Seekers you poisoned against my master."
I turned the camera back on myself and continued my speech:
"Duke, you scoundrel, you have earned yourself the harshest of punishments. But you could at least have the decency to spare the lives of your loyal fleet. After all, it isn't their fault that they joined the wrong side in the Orange House conflict. Your fleet is doomed, but I will give the United Fleet's ships one minute to give up and save their own lives."
Duke Paolo looked somewhere past the cameras in surprise, clarifying something from someone off camera, and gave a powerful laugh:
"That is a bluff! I still have four times as many ships as you! The United Fleet is strong and will be able to wipe your ships out without even noticing! Georg, your attempts to win over my people have failed. No one has joined your side!"
"Are you sure about that, Duke?"
I looked at the timer. Eleven seconds until my ships showed up. Everything had come together perfectly!
"Well, I'm sorry to be the one to disenchant you, Duke Paolo. I don't know who your security service caught, but now it’s time to meet the people who really did come over to my side. The Perimeter Sector Seven Fleet and its commander, holder of an Emerald Star, Svetlana ton Mesfelle! The Perimeter Sector Nine Fleet and its commander, holder of an Emerald Star, Marat ton Mesfelle! The Damir system fleet and its commander, holder of an Emerald Star, Crown Princess Violetta royl Inoky ton Mesfelle! The Swarm Fleet and holder of an Emerald Star, Swarm Queen, Iseyek Prime, Nai Igir!"
The tactical map became overcrowded with green markers. Three hundred fifty Sector Seven starships. Two hundred sixty Sector Nine starships. Three hundred Damir system starships. One thousand five hundred Swarm ships. When you added my ships to that number, the total size of my fleet came to three thousand.
"And, the last holder of an Emerald Star, Count Avalle royl Anjer ton Mesfelle!" the Count's voice rang out. The Duke's younger brother had finally decided on the stronger side in the conflict, and joined it.
Four hundred ships on the tactical map changed color from red to green. After that, it even got through to the most pig-headed United Fleet captains, which force on the battle field was dominant. Chaos erupted. Some enemy ships fled, others sent surrender messages, a third tried to come over to my side. Just five minutes later, there were no more than forty red dots left on the tactical map. They were the battleship Orange Majesty, and the other soldiers most fanatically loyal to Duke Paolo.
The Head of the Orange House stood on the screen, weighed down with impotence and shame. It seemed he tried to say something through his shaking lips, but couldn't bear it and waved his hand in shame, turning away from the camera. A system message came in immediately:
The Head of the Orange House, Duke Paolo royl Anjer ton Mesfelle has resigned.
ATTENTION! A Great House of the Empire cannot be without a leader!
Election for new head of the Orange House must begin immediately.
You have the right to cast 41.3% of the votes in the Orange House. Would you like to support the first in the line of succession: Count Avalle royl Anjer, or would you like to vote for a different candidate?
I froze for several seconds. More than forty percent of Orange House aristocrats with the right to vote had entrusted their votes to Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky. And what would happen if I voted, not for Count Avalle, but... for myself? It was very tempting... All the same, I decided to uphold my agreement with Count Avalle and agree to his candidacy.
ATTENTION! The new head of the Orange House will be Duke Avalle royl Anjer ton Mesfelle (80.3% of votes)
Just for curiosity's sake, I opened the table with more detailed results of the election already in for the Orange House head. The second in the list was Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle, with 14.6% of the votes. If I were to add the 41.3% of the vote at my disposal to that result... I could make myself head of the Orange House, though I gave the historic chance a pass...
"Crown Prince Georg, I am grateful to you for making the right choice," the new Great House Head appeared on screen, glowing in happiness. "I promise that I will not forget your contribution to my victory and will review your bids for star system ownership as soon as the coronation ceremony is over."
Cries of glee could be heard all around. My officers were happy at the end of the civil war in the Orange House. Miya, barely able to stand, approached me, looking either drunk or dead tired.
"Crown Prince, for the first time I do not know what to say. When you called me into such a critical situation, I was ready to tear you to pieces with my ba
re hands, as you had put not only my life in danger, but also the life of my daughter. But now... that was magic, honest! Even my previous master Inoky was never able to achieve so much adoration from his subjects. I got fuller on energy than I ever have before. I can't even take any more. I'm still shaking and rocking back and forth. But tell me, Georg, why did you refuse to become Head of the Orange House?"
It was senseless to lie to the Truth Seeker, so I answered honestly:
"First, because I promised the Orange House throne to Count Avalle, and I am accustomed to keeping all my promises. Second," here I lowered my voice to a whisper, "do I have to remind you when my contract ends? What do I need all these problems for? I'm not getting paid for this. Also, what if Mr. G. I. doesn't want to be Duke?"
Miya smiled, somehow tortured and tired:
"Perhaps my master does want it... somewhere in the depths of his soul. It's just that he would never get this much recognition in the Orange House himself, so he wasn't counting on this chance even arising."
* * *
I dedicated all the next days to preparing for the end of my contract. Above all else, I was trying to mentally prepare those close to me for a potential character change. According to my version, I hadn't gotten rid of my narcotic crystal addiction. It was really hard, and from time to time I felt that I could just rip in half. I also warned them that, due to the effects of the narcotic withdrawals, my abilities as a fleet commander had become unstable and may even disappear for some time, though also not forever. I explained it by saying that, at those moments, I lost confidence in my abilities.
They heard me out carefully and nodded in sympathy. My personal doctor, Nicosid Brandt, summarized my complaints and confirmed that these were possible side effects from trying to quit a strong psychological dependence, and he was totally surprised I had been able to hold out as long as I had. The doctor offered to replace the medicine in the capsules sewed into my arm, and I agreed to the procedure.
Beyond Death (Perimeter Defense Book #2) Page 36
