by Kal Spriggs
She didn't miss the irony that she understood Garret far better than the man she had lived with for the past decade. Hilarious, she thought with a scowl, and all the more so for the fact that Garret is dead and my little sister with him... damn this war and damn the toll it has taken from me.
And damn her for never telling Garret the truth while he still lived.
***
Nova Roma
Chxor Empire
March 15, 2404
Demetrius grimaced as the Chxor foot patrol wound its way through the alleyways of the lower city. In other times, they would not have dared to come so far without far more firepower. Yet the plan called for them to lull their enemies into a false sense of security, so the patrols went unmolested and Demetrius's people let them past.
He knew it wasn't the same all over the planet. The violent rabble that Emperor Romulus's people had slipped into the system had a very different game plan. They posed as rebels and seemed to want to provoke a general uprising against the Chxor. The plan wasn't bad... except for the fact that the Chxor would massacre anyone who followed their lead.
Demetrius worried that they drew too much attention and that they would provoke a Chxor response too soon. Certainly his people weren't ready yet. The skirmishing, kidnapping, and assassinations they had conducted were nothing near the scale of what they would need to accomplish. Even just working together and coordinating their attacks was something that they had to rehearse... and only Kral's notifications of when they could conduct those attacks made them remotely possible.
Captain Ramos seemed a bit taken aback by how people had related to the Chxor officer better than his people. Some part of Demetrius wanted to gloat over that, but mostly he felt bad for Ramos. Ramos had spent the last years of the war with the Chxor as a prisoner. His rescue from the Melcer penal station had given him a far different perspective from that of the average Nova Roma citizen. He had missed the decline, the grinding anxiety as the previous Emperor grew increasingly unstable and those who supported him became more desperate.
Demetrius, however, had a front row seat to those events. Imperial Security's reach had grown and grown, especially after the Imperial Security Act. Too many men and women had disappeared in the night into unmarked vehicles, collected merely on the suspicion of sedition. Demetrius had to grit his teeth as he thought of just how much terror the last Emperor had inflicted upon his own population.
Only the heroes of those last days had given anyone hope. While Emperor Romulus III and his advisers had heavily censored even the victories, they couldn't stop word of mouth, especially in regards to the handful of heroes. Baron Lucius Giovanni was one of those heroes. Even Demetrius, cynical as he was, felt some awe in the Barons survival. He had led his battleship in battle after battle with the Chxor. Against the scale of the war they were mere skirmishes, Demetrius knew, but the small victories had brought hope to the population... right up until the final defeat of the Nova Roma Imperial Fleet and Emperor Romulus III's surrender.
Demetrius had watched that last battle from the surface. The pinprick flashes of light that had signaled the deaths of their last hopes... and the announcement from Emperor Romulus III had punctuated the end of hope. He could admit to himself that his own ongoing war with the Chxor had been more of a bitter refusal to give in than any real expectation of victory.
Yet Kral's presence and those of his officers and the handful of humans that Baron Giovanni had sent finally brought real victory within their grasp. That was why Demetrius's people worked so well with Kral. Kral brought with him a connection to Baron Giovanni. He had been defeated by the Baron, then convinced to fight against his own people, and finally sent here on a mission as a trusted companion. His story, backed by the humans who had come with his Fleet, was one that resonated with the freedom fighters that Demetrius led. Lucius Giovanni hadn't merely survived like some other officer. No, he had led a successful campaign that had liberated several worlds from the Chxor, including the Danar system. His fleet prepared only a few days away, ready to liberate his homeworld.
Demetrius had made damned certain that those who supported him knew all of that. From there, the message had spread like wildfire. Baron Giovanni was coming to save them. No longer did humans walk with bowed heads and fearful gazes... and soon they would no longer need to worry about the Chxor Empire at all.
Demetrius gave a cold smile as the last of the Chxor foot patrol rounded the corner and went out of sight. Let them enjoy their minor victory, he thought, soon it will be our turn to win the war.
***
Halcyon Colony
Contested Space
March 20, 2404
Mason gave a broad smile as the long, sleek aircar settled next to his shuttle on the landing pad. That was normally illegal on just about any world he had visited. Traffic control hated to have space craft and air vehicles operating in the same airspace, much less landing in the same zones. If even a shuttle took a collision and crashed into a populated area, thousands could die. Some of the larger bulk freighters lacked the maneuverability of a shuttle and came with the ability to kill millions if one fell out of the sky in just the wrong place.
Yet when Spencer Penwaithe had invited him down to the planet, he had specified that he would have him picked up at the landing pad. His assumption had been that he would have sent a ground vehicle. As the driver climbed out and opened the door, Mason knew that he was wrong... and just how perilous the situation had become. A glance at Lauren Kelly showed that she fully appreciated the danger as well.
If he can flout laws as important as air space control, Mason thought, then he doesn't care about little things like rule of law either. Given the fact that Spencer Penwaithe was Garret Penwaithe's father, Mason felt a little unnerved about what might happen should he get in that air car.
Yet both Spencer and Collae had put him in the position where he had little choice over how to play the game. They knew that Mannetti would be after the War Dogs... and they knew that Mason would have to do what he could to survive.
That I'm trying to play both sides against the middle just adds a bit more excitement to the job, he thought. He gave the driver a nod as he stepped forward and then stooped to enter the vehicle. It was surprisingly cramped on the inside, a product no doubt of heavy chassis armor.
“This thing could take a direct hit from a tactical nuke,” Lauren muttered as she climbed in behind him.
“Not quite,” Admiral Collae said from near the front. “But it is rated for close proximity.” He cocked his head as he looked between Lauren and Mason. “The invitation specified that you come alone, Mr. King.”
Mason couldn't help an eye twitch at the name. It had been years since anyone called him Tommy King, years spent in recreating himself from the infamous pirate he had become. Mason had gone by McGann or simply Mason for most of that time, a name taken from one of his oldest friends... and a man who had died at his own hand.
Besides, Mason thought, no one has called me “Mr King” since my seventh grade English teacher.
“She's here because she's my backup, Admiral,” Mason said as he met the man's eyes. “If this is some assignment or mission, I'll have to brief her anyway, so this saves us both that time.”
As always, Admiral Collae's pitted face showed so little expression that it could have been carved from stone. “Point,” he said, his gruff voice measured. He settled back into his seat as the driver closed the door. “It's a short flight, Mr King, but I'd recommend you catch up on the news.”
“I've been watching closely,” Mason said. President Monaghan had gone into seclusion and from what Mason had seen, that would be followed shortly by either a quiet resignation or a “suicide.” Given the way Spencer Penwaithe seemed to play, Mason wouldn't put even money on Monaghan's long term survival.
“You probably don't want to miss this,” Admiral Collae said as he sat back and closed his eyes, “There's going to be an announcement soon.”
Lauren b
rought up a news feed. Her eyes went wide, “There's just been a vote in Halcyon's Congress, to immediately suspend the current administration and instate Spencer Penwaithe as interim President.”
Mason looked over at Collae. The rogue military commander didn't express any sign of pleasure. It almost seemed as if he were somewhat irritated by the announcement, as if he thought the sideshow were a waste of time. He still didn't know what Spencer Penwaithe had over Admiral Collae. Despite the power Penwaithe seemed to wield here on Halcyon, he shouldn't have anything on the Colonial Republic Army Navy Admiral. Halcyon was technically at war with the Colonial Republic, or at least the Garris Major faction of it. As byzantine as the politics of the Colonial Republic could be, a declaration of independence from it was generally something guaranteed to draw hostile attention from all military forces, if only to prevent other worlds from following suit.
Granted, the Colonial Republic Army Navy was an outlier as far as military organizations went. A cross between a paramilitary organization and what other nations considered special operations, it had grown up from the original terrorist cells of the Provisional Colonial Republic Army. The Colonial Republic Army Navy operated a surprisingly large force of ships and personnel, enough that Collae was far from the only “Admiral” in their ranks. Many of their commanders, like Collae, operated outside of the normal factions. Mason knew that Admiral Collae operated independently, with no supervision. On many Colonial Republic worlds he was considered a revolutionary and on others he was denounced as a pirate.
His goal seemed to be to defend humanity from the Balor, but his tactics had ranged from using civilians as bait to launching hit and run raids against other Colonial Republic forces to keep his own men supplied. More than that, he and Baron Giovanni had come into conflict once already and Collae had come off the worse for it.
“That was quick,” Mason said.
Admiral Collae just shrugged, “I understand that the preparations had already taken place.”
Mason's eyes narrowed. He had suspected that things moved far too smoothly since his return from the Anvil system. “You knew about the ambush?”
Admiral Collae shrugged again, “We did.”
“You could have warned me,” Mason said. “A lot of people lost their lives.”
Admiral Collae didn't open his eyes, “Mr. King, you have proven remarkably resourceful in your long and tarnished career. Even if I had been allowed to tell you, I see little reason that I should have done so. If you were so incompetent as to fail, then we would only have lost an imperfect tool. You survived and in the process, you have earned Admiral Mannetti's trust. I think this worked out as well as could be expected.”
Mason didn't miss the fact that Collae hadn't suggested that he liked the plan… only that it worked out as well as could be expected. Am I mistaken, Mason thought, or do I detect a bit of conflict within the ranks? How that tied into the mysterious Spencer Penwaithe, he wondered, and how the man pulled so many strings with so little apparent effort.
The aircar landed at the back of Halcyon's Capitol Building. Mason started to sit up, but Admiral Collae opened his eyes and held up a hand. “Your weapons.”
Mason grimaced, but he unbuckled his belt and set them aside. A moment later, Lauren followed suit. The driver opened the door and Mason slid out of the vehicle. They had landed at a private pad and a team of men in security uniform escorted them into the building a moment later.
Clearly I'm not considered a VIP... or else they just don't want anyone seeing me meeting with the new President, Mason thought as they worked their way through service corridors until they finally came to a more public area. The security team led him into a secure conference room.
“Ah, the infamous Tommy King, who would ever suspect that we might set together here?” Spencer Penwaithe said from his spot at the end of the table. His impeccable suit and precisely trimmed beard, along with his height, made him look every bit the distinguished statesman. For a moment, Mason was surprised at just how similar he looked to his son Garret in height, build, and every aspect, really, from his dark skin to his facial structure.
Mason cocked his head, “My condolences.”
“Condolences?” Spencer asked, “What are you talking about? Everything is going to plan.”
“Your son was killed under my command,” Mason said. “I regret...”
Penwaithe waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense, he is replaceable. Political upheavals such as this are opportunities to be capitalized upon, and if I am down an heir, at least it is in a fashion from which I profited.”
Mason felt his blood go cold at the man's words. Combined with the fact that Collae as much as said that Spencer Penwaithe had ordered him not to tell Mason about the ambush, it suggested a level of callousness that shocked even him.
“Very well,” Mason said, “to what do I owe the pleasure of this audience?”
Spencer waved at Admiral Collae, who stepped past Mason. “We fully expect Admiral Mannetti to bring Stavros fully into her confidence soon. Given the removal of all obstacles to her goals, it won't be long until she is ordered to move against us.”
“Ordered?” Mason asked with some surprise. Lucretta Mannetti had struck him as self-centered and narcissistic to an enormous degree. He could not imagine her taking orders from anyone, not in the long term and certainly not without good reason.
“That is of no consequence,” Spencer Penwaithe said with a flat look at Admiral Collae. The Admiral's lack of expression didn't give anything away, but Mason felt that the word had not been a slip. Admiral Collae had given him the information... though for what purpose Mason couldn't guess.
“Now that she has brought the majority of her forces into the system,” Admiral Collae continued, “She can meet Halcyon's forces on more than even grounds. Without a significant investment of forces, we would not be able to swing any kind of battle against her.” Mason's eyes narrowed at that. Collae hadn't said that they didn't have those forces, just that it would take many of them. “Therefore, we want you in position to find out her plan and either sabotage it or simply remove her from the equation.”
Mason frowned, “You want me to assassinate her?”
Spencer Penwaithe smirked, “Please, tell me you aren't feeling moral qualms about this? I understand you've killed many men and women. I can assure you that Lucretta Mannetti is far more deserving than some.”
Mason's gaze went to the man, “I've killed before. I've even conducted assassinations, I just want to be clear on what is being asked of me.”
“Nothing is being asked,” Spencer Penwaithe said, his voice flat. “We are far beyond the point of asking. Whatever value you think you might have, understand that you can be replaced.” Given the man had just commented that his own son could be replaced, Mason didn't doubt him.
Which isn't to say I'll go along quietly, Mason thought.
“So, infiltrate her operation and either sabotage her plan or neutralize her,” Mason said. “Anything else?”
“See to it that she doesn't have the opportunity to realize you work for us,” Spencer Penwaithe said. “If she does, be certain she doesn't relay that information to anyone. That would be... unfortunate.”
“Understood,” Mason said. “So... how are you settling in to your new duties?”
Spencer Penwaithe gave him a level look. “I had thought you had merely adopted the appearance of a buffoon, not that you had allowed yourself to become one. Do not assume that the presidency of this backwater world is the sum of my aspirations... or that it is even a tiny measure of my total resources. This is merely one more move among many... and if you want to remain a valuable piece, then do not try my patience any further.”
He waved his hand, “You may go.”
***
Admiral Collae dropped them off outside the spaceport. Mason transitioned back into full Stavros mode, complete with swagger and attitude. It was just as well, because Lauren passed him his communications unit a moment later.
“Mannetti.”
“This is Commodore Stavros,” Mason said as he put the earpiece on.
“Stavros, darling...” Lucretta Mannetti purred, “Now that things are a bit more settled here on Halcyon, I finally have some time to give you my full attention.”
“Is that so?” Mason said with some of Stavros's leer. Inwardly he shuddered a bit. While he couldn't deny that some part of him found her manipulative and deadly natures attractive, he was also repulsed by those same qualities.
“Yes,” she said. “I notice you're at the spaceport, did you just arrive?”
Is it my paranoia, he thought, or do I sense a note of suspicion? “No,” he said, “I came down to see if there was any chance of loot to be had, but this new President seems to have less balls than the last one. No raids going out, scared as sheep, the lot of them.” He figured she couldn't have had eyes on him, so that meant she probably had tracked his comm unit. Since he had left that in the vehicle with his belt, that meant she shouldn't have any idea of who he had met.
Admiral Mannetti gave a laugh, “You don't know how true that is, Stavros.” Mason wasn't certain if she was being deliberately obtuse or merely snide. “Well, I'll have a car sent over. I look forward to seeing you again.”
She cut the connection before Mason could respond. He glanced at Lauren, “It seems Admiral Mannetti wants to meet with me.”
Lauren's expression was guarded. “Do you want me to go back to the ship?”
Mason hesitated. On the one hand, he wouldn't mind the backup in person, on the other, if things went wrong then having her in position to utilize the Kraken to support him would be far more valuable than any amount of personal firepower. In the end, he decided that he felt better having her close. “No... you should come along.”
