by Britt Ringel
“Anything else, Aaron?” Brewer asked in a detached voice.
Jennings shook his head. “No, just that and some warnings about leaking information about the Parasites and something called Praxidike, sir.”
Silence took hold over the room as Jennings continued to fight the urge to look at the minister. During the entire forty-five minute interview, she had remained silent. Jennings had answered each question in front of the minister exactly as prepared by Brewer, a day earlier. They had arrived at the end of the questioning. He desperately wanted to ask if he was dismissed but knew better.
“Thank you, Agent,” Brewer said in conclusion. “Your testimony has been helpful and I believe we’re done—”
“Characterize the relationship between Garrett Heskan and Isabella Lombardi De Luca,” Minister Fane interrupted. Her voice was a surprisingly rich contralto.
Clear evidence of panic shot through Jennings’ eyes as he stared at Brewer for guidance. He had been told to avoid this subject at all costs. Brewer remained impassive.
“Well…” Jennings’ faltering eyes swept from Brewer to Fane. The minister seemed to be almost swaying slightly. In the instant Jennings’ eyes met Fane’s, he was promised that any attempt of deception would be both instantly detected and mercilessly disciplined. “Romantic,” he finished.
Brewer’s head dropped fractionally.
“Expound, Agent Jennings.” The words came out quietly, nearly a whisper.
Jennings swallowed and then admitted, “They kissed passionately once she was freed from the cargo container, Minister. I was taken away shortly after that and never saw her again.”
Brewer sighed in resignation and said, “You may go now, Agent Jennings.”
Jennings shot to his feet. “Thank you, Minister… Mr. Secretary.”
Before he could pivot toward the door, Fane spoke once again. “Why did you quit, Agent?”
Jennings took an unsure step away from the minister, desperately seeking escape. “I, I don’t understand, Madam Minister.”
“You held Commander Heskan in a supinating wristlock,” Fane explained. “Moreover, your opponent was prone and could no longer turn over his own arm to prevent fracture of his wrist and elbow and the dislocation of his shoulder. Why did you stop?”
Jennings shifted nervously from foot to foot. The woman’s exacting description of the submission hold he used during his fight with Heskan on the Anthe orbital served only to elicit more dread to her question. “Madam Minister, Commander Heskan had an M-41 pressed into me. He could have easily fired if I continued.”
“It would not have been fatal… at least not immediately,” Fane persisted. “And after applying enough torque to break his arm, he most likely would have reflexively dropped his weapon after the first shot.”
“But, but,” Jennings stuttered, “his first shot couldn’t have missed. The barrel was pressed against my side.”
Fane’s jade eyes met Jennings directly as she pressed, “So defending the Republic was a less pleasant prospect than coming here today.”
Jennings hesitated several seconds before finally mumbling, “I don’t know what to say, Madam Minister.”
“You’ve already told me everything I needed to hear,” Fane declared ominously. “You are dismissed but you will wait in the antechamber, Agent.”
Once Jennings left the room, Brewer cleared his throat. “Am I to assume that this resource will no longer be available?”
Fane resumed the fractional swaying of her body before answering. “Yes.”
The pawn now sacrificed to the cause, Brewer stated hopefully, “I am optimistic that Garrett Heskan is no longer a threat to the Republic, Minister.”
Fane inhaled deeply and considered the secretary’s words. She looked down briefly at her datapad before saying, “Garrett shares his father’s poor taste in women.”
The rare personal rebuke caused Brewer to flinch. “Madam Minister, Garrett had plenty of opportunity to leak information about both the Parasites and Praxidike but hasn’t. I truly believe that he wants nothing more than to slip away and quietly live out his life in peace. Jacob Heskan never meant to hurt the Republic. His son doesn’t mean to either.”
“He already has, Sebastian,” Fane hissed. “Or don’t you think stealing away a critical intelligence asset from us was treason? We could have used that asset to change the fortunes of war.”
Brewer shook his head lightly. “Adira—”
“What delusion makes you believe using my given name grants you leverage?”
Brewer smiled softly. “I’m not seeking leverage, ‘Madam Minister.’ I’m merely trying to impress the fact that the Republic has lost this war, Adira, with or without interference from Garrett Heskan.”
Fane pressed her lips together to form a cruel, thin line as she reflected upon her companion’s words. Finally, she stated, “It will be severe. We will lose… much.”
Brewer nodded. “Most of the disputed zone, probably even some of our systems near New Roma.” The General Council had already sent an envoy of peace to the Commonwealth. No word had returned on what the price of failure would be for the Republic.
As if reading Brewer’s mind, Fane promised, “We have not failed, Sebastian. One fails only when one stops trying.”
Brewer acknowledged the minister’s words with a nod and used them to change tactics. “Agreed, Madam Minister. This is why we should not waste valuable resources on revenge that might otherwise be allocated toward the Parasite Initiative.”
“I cannot let him go, Sebastian,” Fane admitted quietly. “You will end Jacob Heskan’s line or force me to intervene.”
The marginal dip in the Secretary of Internal Security’s shoulder would have been imperceptible to anyone else. Satisfied, the cruel line of Fane’s mouth shifted upward. “Now tell me about the Initiative.”
“It will take some time, Madam Minister.”
* * *
Heskan had watched the christening of Dioscuri, Seshafi’s newest ship of the line, from Covington’s shuttle the day before. Now, he was twenty minutes late for another ceremony, this one a more personal groundbreaking. When he arrived at the site, powerful machinery had already burrowed several meters into the soil. Augmenting the mechanical clamor were the coordinated efforts of dozens of men and women working around the location. Thirty meters from the main effort, construction transport shuttles ferried material to a staging area.
After Heskan’s shuttle landed, he remained at the makeshift landing pad while searching, fruitlessly, for his contact. In the end, the brawny woman found him and casually tossed a bright yellow hard hat at him as she approached. “You’re late. I told them to proceed without you, Mr. Heskan. I hope you don’t mind.”
Heskan attempted to catch the hard hat, bobbled it and watched it drop into the nearby beach grass. He picked the hat up and donned it. “It’s okay… is there anything left for me to do since they’ve started?”
The project manager shrugged indifferently as she reached Heskan. “Just pick up the shovel from storage. The holo-vid is a close-up of the shovel going into the earth with the beach and ocean in the background.” The woman turned to face the ocean and the wind made her brown hair dance. The seemingly non-stop breeze was blowing offshore but it would turn, later, as the land heated. “It’s a spectacular view.” She inhaled deeply. “And smell that ocean air…”
They call it the smell of the ocean but it’s actually the smell of the land, Heskan thought pedantically.
“When I reviewed the work order, I thought you were crazy for insisting on real windows along the east side of the house.” She inhaled deeply a second time. “I understand why now and with that breeze, you’ll barely have to run the cooling unit at all.”
Heskan had taken Vernay’s advice and decided early upon a Spanish colonial-style house that complied with the stringent building codes on the continent. That single decision seemed to be the only constant during the entire planning process. Originally, he just
wanted a small and simple domicile but with each passing week, Heskan’s “simple” house design grew in size and complexity as he added more and more features. His former first officer only aggravated matters, insisting that Heskan “build the house he deserved” and encouraging him to have no regrets regarding the conveniences commonly available to terrestrial homes. What began as a simple, three-bedroom house had evolved into a five-bedroom estate, which included a small courtyard overlooking the ocean. In many ways, it was not unlike Samanta De Luca’s plantation house on Hollara, but on a more humble scale.
“If you’ll follow me, Mr. Heskan,” the manager requested, “we’ll get that shovel. We’re also going to have to modify the foundation a bit. We’re encountering more sand than we expected and need to use some higher end materials to keep up with code.”
* * *
Admiral Wallace pointed toward the final paragraph of his casus bellum draft. He had taken an extra day to word it perfectly. The standard language was intricately woven into the summary along with the listed requirements necessary to ensure the cause of war would be expedited to take effect in mere weeks.
IaCom’s chief operating officer, Duke Alcott Hughes, grinned upon finishing his review. “This is fine work, Viscount.” He casually flicked his index finger across his datapad, shuffling through the pages of the document until stopping at the proposed order of battle. “I see you shall enter Seshafi with a much more appropriate force this time.”
Wallace nodded. “Indeed, sir. Subtlety is out the airlock now.”
“As it should have been the first,” Hughes muttered.
Wallace dipped his head. “With respect, Duke, my plan was perfectly conceived and would have granted us the entirety of AmyraCorp in a single, painless stroke. I could ill-afford to have entered Seshafi with a larger force because Admiral Cooke would have known that the stakes were higher than they initially appeared. My plan, one of the boldest in corporate warfare history, would have been successful if not for the interference of that damned privateer.”
“Whom you must deal with directly now,” Hughes reminded Wallace.
The Red Admiral grumbled. “Yes. He has assumed the role of Lord of the Admiralty for Seshafi with Piers’ death.”
Hughes snorted. “What is the status of their grievance regarding Cooke’s death?”
“Mired in court procedure.” Wallace raised a knowing eyebrow and added, “For now. Our casus bellum will be scheduled before the hearing.”
“Are you not concerned about it?” Hughes asked.
“I would be,” Wallace confessed but smiled winsomely. “However, I expect the new leadership of AmyraCorp to dismiss the suit by the time the hearing comes up.”
Both men shared a laugh over the remark. Hughes was reaching for a bottle of limited edition malt resting upon the sideboard when an assistant dashed into the corner office. The aide’s face was a ghostly white as he worked furiously on his datapad. “Excuse me, Viscount. This just came via standata.”
Concern etched deeply into the naval officer’s brow as he awaited the update and then set to work to open the document. The man’s knuckles turned white as he read the simple contents.
“What?” asked Hughes, anxiety creeping into his voice at the sight of his colleague’s rapidly blanching face.
Wallace looked up. “We’ve been served notice of war,” he said quietly.
“What!” Hughes bellowed. “Who?” He reached across the desk for the datapad.
“Seshafi has filed a casus bellum against us,” Wallace said unbelievingly. “It was filed sub rosa five days ago and has been officially entered into the calendar.”
“They are attacking us?” Hughes was incredulous. “When?”
“In just under a month,” Wallace answered while skimming the brief legalese. “This document barely constitutes a casus bellum,” he lamented while waving his datapad. “We could easily contest it but that would just play further into their hands and delay things.” He slammed the thin instrument onto the desktop.
“This destroys our timetable,” Hughes spat angrily. “By law, two parties must resolve casus belli in order of filing.”
“I know,” snapped Wallace but quickly recovered his temper. “And by the time we’ve defeated them in Sade, The Courts will hear the Cooke grievance. If they prevail in that hearing… I could be chastised by The Courts.” Wallace shuddered slightly at the thought.
“That mustn’t happen,” Hughes said gravely. “I will talk with the board at once to strategize.”
“Do we have enough influence to push through a favorable verdict?”
“It all depends on the number of favors each judge owes the board and which members are willing to call them in.”
“Duke,” Wallace said defensively, “surely my service to the corporation is worthy enough for them to shield me. I’ve spent a lifetime defending IaCom… I would do anything to protect Sade!”
Hughes rested a hand upon the Red Admiral’s shoulder. “Easy, Oliver. Everything that can be done, will be done.” The COO cocked his head to one side. “Now, you can defeat this privateer in battle, can’t you?”
Chapter 2
“As you were,” Heskan thundered as he walked down the main aisle of the spacious auditorium. To either side of him stood nearly one thousand men and women, the bulk of Seshafi’s Space Combat Command. He took the stairs near the front of the auditorium in pairs and, once on the stage, surveyed the floor for the markings that would tell him where to stand. Directional microphones would broadcast his voice not only to the chiliad of sailors in attendance but to all members of Seshafi’s tiny navy across the planet. “Please be seated.”
Heskan lightly cleared his throat. Despite the massive audience, easily the largest he had ever spoken in front of, he was not nervous. He had given speeches with higher stakes before. “Ladies and gentlemen, in twenty-five days we attack Sade.”
The throng in front of Heskan was far too disciplined to break into anxious chatter but not nearly enough to avoid a wave of hushed gasps. He looked out at the young sailors in attendance. There was shock on their faces along with a healthy amount of fear but also something else… an understanding that the matter between the two warring corporations must be resolved.
Off to the side, backstage, even Lieutenants Selvaggio and Truesworth gasped at the announcement. Truesworth cast his head to the left and spoke in a quiet voice to Vernay, “We’re attacking them? That’s crazy! Stacy, why aren’t you as shocked as we are?”
Vernay shrugged lightly with a wry smile. “What, is this my first day here?”
Oblivious to the backstage banter, Heskan continued. “While we are still firming up our order of battle, we’re going to commence combat exercises in two days with what we know we’ll have for the attack.” He looked downward, at the front row of the auditorium. Yon Nguyen, recently promoted to captain, sat stoically. The Seshafian native had been briefed an hour earlier on the operation that would commence in a little over three weeks. Heskan held reservations about Nguyen’s conservative, nearly antiquated nature but understood that Archduke Covington promoted Nguyen to captain to act as not only a sounding board for Heskan but also a brake. Covington admitted that the ancient conventions and covenants of corporate warfare were undergoing a transformation with the Sade-Seshafi conflict, but he also realized that a full-throttled, headlong change of the mores could result in the decimation of both systems’ navies that either side could ill afford. Covington urged Heskan to be creative with his interpretation of corporate rules but not violate them outright. As a single-system entity, Seshafi held little sway over The Courts in the capital system of Nessus and needed to tread lightly when dealing with the larger sharks in the corporate judicial system.
Heskan’s voice echoed through the large chamber. “In the next twenty-four hours, Captain Nguyen and I will determine the ship captain list for the pending battle. There will be differences from our last action.” He looked sternly across the room. “I place a p
remium on combat experience and the officers that have proven themselves will see their names at the top of the list.” He resisted the urge to smile as he thought about his crew. “Some of the names you will recognize. Others, you may not. Ultimately, I know that each of you will perform to your utmost regardless of who your ship captain is or where she may have hailed from.”
Heskan gestured toward Captain Nguyen with a smile. “I am pleased to announce not only the promotion of Yon Nguyen to the rank of captain but also his new position commanding Dioscuri.” Heartfelt applause spread throughout the room at the news that Nguyen, one of the few survivors of the old guard, was being honored with the captaincy of Seshafi’s newest and largest ship of the line. After the applause died down, Heskan’s smile grew wider. “I am also pleased to announce that our other ship of the line, Ajax, will be captained by Commander Stacy Vernay.”
Polite applause filled the chamber this time as Vernay dipped her head and blushed at the expected announcement. Truesworth slapped Vernay on the back while whooping as Selvaggio vigorously shook the young commander’s hand.
Heskan made sure his voice boomed with confidence. “I don’t know if any of you have reviewed the action fought a couple weeks ago—” Genuine laughter broke out over the crowd. With the nonstop media broadcasts, no sentient being in Seshafi could escape seeing the battle at every turn.
“Commander Vernay assumed de facto command of my ship when I was forced to lead the fleet. Her leadership was instrumental not only in Elathra’s success during the engagement but to the overall success of the entire battle. Those of you lucky enough to serve under her will undoubtedly be in for the ride of your life.”
Heskan infused his voice with a healthy dose of assurance. “This is the first step toward righting the terrible wrong inflicted upon our navy just one month ago. Sade has already been served our casus bellum and now, we will take the fight to them!”
A chorus of cheers filled the auditorium as Heskan finished, “We will show Admiral Wallace and all of IaCom the true mettle of the Seshafian navy. We may be small in size but we are large in heart.”
