Sector Eight (Perimeter Defense: Book #1)

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Sector Eight (Perimeter Defense: Book #1) Page 29

by Michael Atamanov


  But then, one of the new crewmembers really caught my interest. First, differently from most of the officers gathered, you could read about him in a popup, meaning he was a living player. Second, his having two Great House last names meant that the person before me was in no way just a normal person.

  Angel royl Mauri ton Mesfelle-Miro, Viscount of the Blue House

  Age: 38

  Race: Human

  Gender: Male

  Class: Aristocrat/Military

  Achievements: Has been awarded the Silver Comet combat medal for participation in interspecies conflict.

  Fame: +2

  Standing: + 1

  Presumed personal opinion of you: Unknown

  Blue house opinion of you: -2 (indifferent)

  You can only get combat medals fighting with the Imperial armed forces, not in Great House private armies. At some point, the Dukes and other aristocrats, competing among themselves to see who could have the most medals and orders hanging from their uniforms, brought the race to a completely absurd point, and the Emperor got fed up with all their useless window dressing. Seventy-three years ago, August issued an order saying that the only true medals were those officially issued by the Empire, and all others were meaningless jackstraw. No, it wasn't that the Emperor forbid the Great Houses from issuing medals, which they had invented a great many kinds of, but after that order, people began looking on anyone who had one with a sneer, and soon everyone stopped wearing them.

  By the way, it was precisely the issuing of combat medals that was one of the topics I wanted to address with my officers after the end of the day's training. To my mind, the situation had changed slightly over the past decades: humanity had come across a worthy opponent for the first time and was taking serious losses. The soldiers risked their lives quite frequently, displayed their courage valiantly and were completely deserving of combat medals for their actions. And, in contrast to the phony imitation jewelry of the past, these orders and other signs of distinction really had a deep meaning, and their owners had indisputably earned taking pride in them.

  I had a desperate need for my soldiers to be loyal to me in light of a potential forthcoming open conflict with the Orange House head, which is why the topic of combat medals seemed timely and useful. But first, I'd have to morally prepare my officers so they would really have a chance to see these shiny pieces of metal as special symbols that one really could take pride in.

  Suddenly, I realized that I had spent quite some time standing in silence in front of Angel ton Mauri, and I'd have to explain the fleet commander's excessive interest in the officer somehow.

  "I can't decide for myself. Either I've been fabulously lucky and acquired an experienced combat officer, who I can entrust with important missions right away, or the person before me is a normal, high-born nobleman, whose influential parents succeeded at setting him up in officer's school at the right time. I mean no offense to you, Angel. I'm not at all familiar with your biography, which is why I can only judge you by your noble last name and your combat order. So, tell me about yourself."

  The man answered unexpectedly:

  "It's more the latter, your Highness. My parents really did give me away to officer courses in the Throne World when I was ten, and from there I was dragged along by fate to wherever the Empire was at war with someone. And it was at war practically all the time... Five years ago, on the way back from a deep expedition into Swarm territory, my cloaked frigate came out of warp unsuccessfully near Forepost-11, appearing around the debris of a recently demolished freighter. As my bad luck would have it, there was a pirate cruiser nearby, and it captured us. I spent five years in a pirate jail on the Hnelle station. In that time, I was declared MIA and discharged from the Imperial Space Fleet. A few days ago, I applied to be reinstated to the post of Imperial space captain but was refused. I applied to your fleet and unexpectedly was hired to work on the very same ship that captured my frigate five years earlier."

  "This must be fate, Angel – which is why I won't be giving you a position here..." I said, not having ended my sentence before his face had already become perplexed and sour. "Because I am in desperate need of an experienced captain for a cloaked frigate, probably the very same frigate you lost five years ago. Because, as cloaked frigates are very rare, it's hardly possible that the Brotherhood of the Stars pirates could have acquired several of them legally."

  I saw the eyes of this strong man fill with grateful tears. And I understood that I had just taken a man into my ranks that would never betray me and would remain loyal under any circumstances.

  "I gladly accept your proposition, Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky!"

  Standing change. Angel royl Mauri's opinion of you has improved.

  Presumed personal opinion of you: +15 (warm)

  Standing change. Blue house opinion of you has improved:

  Presumed personal opinion of you: -1 (indifferent)

  Standing change. Empire Military faction opinion of you has improved.

  Presumed personal opinion of you: +4 (indifferent)

  Now that's what I call a nice gift basket! No, honestly, I wasn't expecting it! Well, I could have foreseen that Angel would be glad at being given back his ship, but the rest was just a pleasant surprise. Especially the improvement with the military faction, given that a great deal was riding on their loyalty to me.

  * * *

  I repent! I slept through the first half of the training session in the most shameless fashion imaginable, just lounging on my yacht. I began watching the sped-up footage of what I’d missed to catch up before it ended. Under the terms of the training session, two evenly-matched fleets were to face off. I really had divided the fleet more or less down the middle, with five heavy cruisers on each side. One half was commanded by Admiral Kiro Sabuto, while the other was being led by Admiral Kheraisss Vej. In accordance with the rules, a ship with a shield that has fallen to ten percent is considered destroyed and is removed. Firing on it is also to stop. Frigates under a web within an agreed-upon radius from any cruiser, whether heavy or light, were also considered lost. I slept four and a half hours. In that time, the battle had come to eight to seven in favor of Admiral Kheraisss Vej.

  "Alright, that's enough!" I brought an end to the practice battle in a confident, even tone, so none of the participants, I suspect, guessed that their commander had been getting some rest during their maneuvers. "Your forces are approximately equal. Both sides' losses are as well. By the end, the frigates had learned how to orient themselves well in space, and there were no stupid, unjustifiable sacrifices. General errors we can discuss later. For now, take a half hour break, then we'll try to change the score with electronic warfare, frigate groups, shuttle docking at the closest possible distance, and also we'll test out our cloaker.”

  For the second half of the training session, I took turns leading both halves of the fleet, and I was opposed by my admirals, who were also taking turns. It was all as close to real space-battle conditions as possible. We weren't being stingy with drones, and the frigates were taking such fast corners and with such G-force loads, that you could hear the crews moaning on the public channel. No one was being cheap with rounds either. I had to hike up my socks so I wouldn't get dragged through the mud in front of my subjects. It didn’t seem to go too badly: at the end of the battle, the score was nine to one in my favor. The only point for the other side was scored by Kiro Sabuto, in that he had a total of three Pyros "survive" on the battle field.

  That evening, when I entered the large hall on Queen of Sin, where I had invited my fleet captains and their assistants, the officers stood up in concert and greeted my entrance with a long round of applause. I spent a few seconds basking in the rays of glory, but then I raised my arm, calling for silence.

  I talked about a lot of things: about the role of the space fleet in the history of the Empire; about the fearless scouts, who had spent centuries expanding the boundaries of human-accessible space; about those heroes who cleared the way
for the human race in the future by breaking the resistance of hostile species. I gradually led those gathered to the idea that a great feat deserves a reward. And so, when I said that I had made the decision to revive the tradition of rewarding fleet soldiers and officers who distinguish themselves in battle with combat medals and orders, the hall reacted with elation. I called Admiral Kiro Sabuto on stage. I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than the man who had distinguished himself in the battle with the aliens near the Vorta beacon, with the pirates in Himora, and also in the double battle near the Hnelle beacon. I personally pinned the badges to his uniform, and the reaction of the officers was quite positive.

  Standing change. Empire Military faction opinion of you has improved.

  Presumed personal opinion of you: + 5 (warm)

  Lieutenant Nicole Savoia handled the issue of searching through the fleet archives for descriptions of past Orange House combat medals on my personal request. She then ordered the first shipment of the revived medals and orders to Unatari. The lieutenant herself had earned the "Silver Brooch," a four-pointed star with a longer point on the bottom. Inside the medal, the number of space battles participated in was engraved in gold. Nicole's medal showed the number four.

  Our allies, the Iseyeks and the chameleons did not go without medals either. For example, the chameleon captain of the Tusk-1 was given the "Order of the Ruby" for bravery in the battle with the aliens. And an Alpha Iseyek, the senior gunner of Vassar-3, received a "For Service in Battle" medal. A detailed computer analysis of the battle in the Hnelle system had revealed that Vassar-3 had destroyed seven enemy frigates, which was more than anyone else in the fleet.

  When the rush associated with giving out medals had quieted a bit, I turned the microphone back on.

  "And now, I ask for your attention. The issue I'd like to discuss with you is actually very serious. Right now, our fleet is nowhere near the largest in the Empire, but it is the single most battle-capable one. Since the skirmish with the aliens at the Vorta beacon, we have become stronger and we are continuing to grow rapidly stronger as we speak. That is necessary to withstand the threat of an alien invasion. But that increase in strength has upset some people in the Empire and even in our own Orange House."

  "Why?" rang out a lone shout from the hall.

  "Because a strong fleet, military glory, and victories against aliens and pirates have increased my authority and influence in the Imperial aristocracy, which threatens the established order. Other aristocrats perceive this strengthening of forces quite negatively, and so that causes a strong reaction from them. For our glorious victories, our fleet has already been deprived of Orange House financing, we've been forbidden from buying new ships, all space stations other than Tesse and Himora have been de facto closed to our ships for repair, we are forbidden to build ships ourselves, and an embargo has been put in place against the delivery of strategic materials..."

  An outraged buzz broke out in the hall, and I called for silence again.

  "That still isn't everything! We've already been accused of poaching the best and brightest Academy graduates, which is why we can see that our opponents' next step will be to place a limit on recruitment soon, which will make it difficult to hire new team members. But their most recent step already crossed all imaginable bounds – we were demanded to give up the territory we conquered from the Brotherhood of the Stars pirates to total strangers, depriving us all of the spoils of our victory."

  The buzz in the hall grew simply deafening. I allowed my subjects to let out their pent-up righteous indignation, and began speaking again:

  "To carry out our mission, to defend Sector Eight, our fleet needs resources, bases, and money. That is why I refused to give up the territory that is rightfully ours. And right now, there is a fleet in Tesse belonging to another aristocrat who wants to try to take our star systems by force."

  Here I gave a jolly smirk, demonstrating my opinion of such an absurd attempt on the part of my opponents.

  After a second's pause, the first laughs rang out in the hall, quickly growing into the laughter of hundreds of people and even nonpeople. The soldiers couldn't stop laughing for a long time, because of how absurd the idea seemed to them that we could be beaten in battle. My subjects' reaction made me very happy. They didn't even know the size of the enemy force, but nevertheless had no doubt that their commander would beat the enemy in any case.

  "What I'm about to tell you must not leave this room. Today, we're going to leave for the Hnelle system. Tomorrow, we'll do another full-strength training session, then I will be flying to Tesse with a small part of the fleet. And if I'm not able to settle it diplomatically with the would-be usurper, we'll go back to the Hnelle beacon. And if our enemies are dumb enough to follow our ships, we'll meet them in the Hnelle system and give them a beating to write home to their mothers about!"

  The enthusiastic roar of hundreds of throats reaffirmed that I had not been mistaken. My captains considered our mission just and, as such, were prepared to take on any enemy regardless of species or uniform color.

  And Back to Tesse

  I missed Queen of Sin coming out of the warp tunnel into the Tesse system. No, I didn't sleep through it, or forget; it's just that I was in the sick bay at the time. I sprained my left wrist. And it happened due to my own stupidity alone. I decided to, as they say, make the best of the flight time through the warp tunnel and set off for the gym. The twenty-four-hour gym was locked for some reason, but of course my privilege level was high enough to open the door. And there was no one to blame but myself here. As it turns out, the laws of physics can be quite variable in a warp tunnel. Everyone on the ship knew that and took preventative measures whenever we were approaching discontinuities in space. It would seem that I was the only one on the ship not in the loop. But at least it shed some light on why the gym was sometimes locked during warp jumps. There's not much to be happy about when an electromagnetic barbell that you've just managed to lift with extreme strain suddenly becomes four times heavier...

  "Your Highness, the ambassador of the Kingdom of Veyerde to the Orange House is requesting permission to visit Queen of Sin."

  Veyerde? It was probably something about their Princess again. Clearly, their ambassador wants to give me a note of protest for interfering in their King's daughter's personal life. Alright, it's not too hard for me to apologize. It won't cost a thing.

  "Good, give it. How long will it be for that ambassador to reach us?" I wondered to a staff officer, receiving a very unexpected answer.

  "Not long, my Prince. Their shuttle is just under two miles from us. They'll dock in a couple minutes."

  Well, I'll be! I've got guests coming, and here I am on a hospital stretcher, naked as the day I was born, with a swollen arm. Then the doctor, having heard my conversation, forbid me to stand, as he hadn't yet finished the procedures. Finally, a few minutes later, I tore myself from the doctor's tenacious fingers and rushed to meet my official guest, buttoning up my tunic as I went.

  The idea was that the figure of Captain Clay ton Avelle standing in the passage was supposed to put me on my guard, but I was in too much of a rush and didn't notice him standing there in confusion. After flying into the airlock hangar to meet the ambassador, I also stopped, stiff as a statue, next to the captain, because the picture that revealed itself there looked too unexpected.

  I'll start with the fact that the Honorable Ambassador wasn't in the hangar, nor was his shuttle. Instead of all that, there was an elegant girl standing by the airlock door with her eyes timidly trained on the floor. She was wearing a magnificent blue dress, and her graceful gold crown was distinctly shining through her dark chestnut hair. Next to Princess Astra, and the popup hint confirmed my suspicions about my guest's identity, there was a whole mountain of cardboard and plastic boxes, like the kind normally used for storing clothes and shoes while traveling. Behind this heap of stuff, I somehow didn't even see right away that there was another guest: a humbly dressed and, you
could even say, unremarkable girl, if it weren't for the clear resemblance in facial features with the beaming Princess in ceremonial attire. She was unambiguously a close relative of Astra, but who exactly I couldn't figure – there was no popup hint about the second girl.

  "The shuttle arrived, hurried to unload, practically hurling boxes onto the floor, left the two girls and took off," said Clay ton Avelle, pointing out the obvious.

  The captain and I spent some time just standing in silence and watching the Princess and her companion, who had arrived in such a strange manner. My guests also made no attempt to approach or start speaking. Princess Astra kept standing there with her head lowered, motionless like a porcelain doll. Finally, I decided to make a gesture of politeness and welcome this crown-wearing lady to my ship. Astra gave an elegant bow and answered my welcome in accordance with all rules of courtly etiquette, with all the long titles. After which, she added:

  "My father, King Kant royl Pikar ton Veyerde, told me that your Highness, Crown Prince Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle, expressed a desire to converse with me."

  She had more or less the right idea, but as far as I remember the conversation with the monarch, we discussed holding it long-distance. Was I misunderstood? Or was my promise to have a talk with Princess Astra perceived as sufficient reason to send his youngest daughter tens of parsecs away for a personal meeting with an Imperial crown prince? It was probably the latter option. Otherwise, they wouldn't have hurried to get off my ship, so that I wouldn't be able to send their daughter back in the same fashion she'd come in with just a quick apology.

  “And how much time do we have to talk? When is the ambassador's shuttle returning?” Looking at the Princess's heap of boxes of things, I could already tell that the monarch, Kant royl Pikar, had bid his ambassador not to especially hurry to return, but all the same you need to dot your "i"s and cross your "t"s.

 

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