by Ryan Krauter
"Thank you, Representative," he replied. He addressed the communications officer again. "It's time to commit the reserves. Have the Torment leave us and assume formation with the rest of our units. We'll stay here and cover the planet's surface on this side by ourselves."
The battle was woefully one-sided. The experienced Priman ships slashed across the loose formation of enemy defenders, culling their numbers on every pass. Their advantage in sensor and detection technology, something the Confederation navy had learned to adjust for, stymied the fire control computers of the Carline defenders. Only at the end did some of the defender ships attempt to coordinate their own fire manually, but it was too little, too late. The coalition of private vessels, armed merchantmen, and three ancient frigates that were only in orbit for lifeguard duty were the extent of the defenses that Carline could put up. Captain Vol did lose one cruiser with all hands in a rare uncontained reactor meltdown and several others were damaged, but overall it was a rousing success for the Primans; a planet in exchange for one ship.
Their quarry destroyed, the Priman cruisers resumed their original places in orbit above the planet. Once you controlled the skies, the planet was at your mercy.
This time, Ravine didn't have to even demand they answer the comms; there was a message waiting for them. It was another Qualin, though this one wasn't wearing the elaborate formalwear that the former Governor had been dressed in.
"I am Tzeuss," the Qualin began tiredly. "What are your terms?"
Representative Ravine was already mentally crossing the first world off her list of planets to conquer.
"We're going to need to find a way to restrict travel in some way if we're going to avoid a wave of secessions," stated Enric Shae, senior assistant to Senator Dennix and the only other person who knew about his relationship with the Primans. They were discussing the recent secession that Admiral Bak had been talking about, and the implications were not good. The planet in question hadn't even joined another alliance; they'd chosen to simply exist independently, a true slap in the face to the Confederation considering the Primans were snatching up their outer planets left and right lately.
"We can make it happen," Dennix assured him. He was confident of his personal outlook today, and had the casual air of someone who was carefree. He leaned back in the chair behind his oversized, ornate wooden desk, the place where he seemed to spend most of his time these days. Even the Governing Committee knew how this game was to be played; they came to his office when decisions needed to be made. Everyone on that committee had newfound power to influence the Confederation, and they all owed their places to him. He wouldn't let them forget it, either. He had once hoped to consolidate power into a position of President, something the Confederation had done away with long ago on the grounds that one person in control of so many hundreds of planets and billions of lives was not a great idea. He'd settle for control over a docile committee instead if the results were the same.
"The greater the crisis, the more power we can claim," Dennix assured his accomplice. "They'll relinquish their rights in bits and pieces in return for the promise of safety. Most of the major news outlets will report favorably on our policies; we'll just need to think of a legitimate sounding reason why we need to regulate inter-system travel. The real-world details, how it will affect people on a daily basis, aren't important. What we tell the people, that's what is important. And we'll have no more of these planets taking leave of the Confederation, because I'll need us strongly united at home if we're going to expand at the tail end of this invasion. We just need to keep any trouble makers busy," he finished, thinking chiefly about Avenger and Admiral Nodam Bak.
"We also need to keep Tana Starr in line," Shae observed. He saw the look that Dennix was giving him and explained. "After she had Velk transferred to the prison facility here on Delos, she began seeing him regularly. None of the guard shifts has noted anything about it in their logs, and I've taken pains to keep those personnel rotated very often so nobody is there often enough to notice her repeated visits. But sooner or later, somebody will ask why an advisor to the Senator who chairs the Governing Committee is spending so much time with the prisoner. She needs to keep a lower profile."
"I agree," allowed Dennix as he stared sullenly at his bare desktop, "but she still has the upper hand and isn't afraid to remind me of that fact. I'll tell her again when I see her next that she is going to get noticed if she doesn't stop seeing her comrade so often."
Chapter Three
Tana Starr would have laughed if she'd heard Dennix and Shae conspiring to reign her in. She was a Priman, heirs to the dominance of this galaxy, and the two conspiring politicians were members of a species that would still be banging rocks together for entertainment if it hadn't been for her people.
Speaking of her people, she had one in particular she was about to attend to. She'd just cleared security at the detention facility at the outskirts of the capital and was making her way to the interrogation room where Representative Velk would be waiting for her. She had all the credentials, the overbearing attitude of a government official, and wasn't entirely unaware of how she was using her athletic form and prosthetically altered facial features to distract the humanoid males. At first she'd been worried that she was drawing too much attention, but soon enough she'd realized that they were paying more attention to her figure than the details of her visit. If asked, they'd probably be able to describe her silhouette but not offer any idea what her business was.
She waited at the door to the interrogation room until the light on the locking pad by the doorframe turned green. She stepped into the room, which followed the traditional design of such facilities in that it could have belonged to any number of planets or species.
The walls were bare, save for one that had a reflective surface. Monitors of all kinds looked through it at the detainee, who sat in an uncomfortable chair at a bare metal table. The lighting was too bright, but could be changed to any level that might upset the detainee. The temperature, as was typical, was a bit too warm. It was up to the investigator to offer to turn down the temperature and make the 'guest' more comfortable, an act designed to show that the investigator had the detainee's best interests in mind and wasn't such a bad person after all.
She knew Velk would weather these games as a simple point of pride, so she didn't offer to change the conditions when he was brought in. He sat at the table, and she did the same on the opposite side. She tapped the ring on her right index finger, a duplicate to the ring on her other hand which masked her Priman physiology to casual scans, and the small scrambler inside activated, guaranteeing that nothing would be recorded. She had ordered all such devices deactivated anyway, but caution was standard procedure in her line of work.
"Agent Starr," began Velk with a courteous nod.
"Representative Velk," she replied in the same neutral manner. "I have news today which affects you."
Velk's expression didn't change. He'd been Commander too long, was simply too good at controlling himself, to show anything. She continued.
"Our visits here will come to an end soon," she said. "While having access to you is agreeable, it is not ideal. There is a concern that sooner or later the Confederation scientists might adapt one of their interrogation drugs to our physiology and you could be compromised. There is also the simple fact that it is embarrassing to have to let them keep you caged up here. Soon, we will arrange for your escape. We plan to keep you on-planet for as short a time as possible, and then return you to Priman space." She watched to see what his reaction would be.
"That is good news," he agreed, face still an impenetrable mask. "Is there anything I should do to prepare?"
"Not as such," she replied. "I will try to give you some notice, but all you will have to do is wait for our team to appear. You will know it is them."
That was all that needed to be said. Primans were straight-to-the-point types, so Tana Starr didn't linger much after the news was delivered.
She
walked out of the building and strolled to her favorite cafe near the capital district. It was late enough in the morning that she ordered a light lunch, selecting a few of the items on the menu which agreed with her Priman tastes. There was one significant portion of the briefing she'd given Velk that he wouldn't know: his ultimate destination in Priman territory.
Velk had been a peerless military commander, leading his people through the final preparations and into the opening months of the invasion. Tactically speaking, he was among the best the Primans had to offer. Politically, though, he was out of his depth. While the Priman culture didn't play the political game the same way as the humanoids of this part of the galaxy did, there were still moves that needed to be made occasionally, and Velk hadn't kept up. There were other, hungrier Primans behind him who were willing to do more to ensure victory. Primans who weren't as adept at combat, but excelled at power-gathering and building shadowy alliances. Primans like Commander Tash.
He had known Tana Starr since they'd been children, and as he'd solidified his power and maneuvered himself into early promotion to Commander with Terir's help, he had taken with him only lifelong friends whom he felt he could trust. They also had to have the same ideology as him, which was where he and Velk differed. Where Velk had never been shy about admitting that the inhabitants of this galaxy would somehow be made to see the light and join with their Priman benefactors, Tash was just as open about his promise to win by any means necessary, even if it meant eradicating everyone in the galaxy who opposed them and finding some new primitives whose civilizations his people could steer along. The Council's attitudes as of late leaned towards Tash's point of view, and he'd taken advantage of it.
The only sticking point was Velk. He was respected by many, even those who didn't share his point of view. He wasn't afraid to voice a dissenting opinion, but in the end always followed orders. If he was able to rally enough support for some sort of settlement or coexistence with the lesser species, there was the chance Tash would be forced to adopt that position by the Council, and he was not about to settle for that. These lower species had cast his ancestors from the galaxy itself, doomed to roam the emptiness beyond the last stars in cobbled-together deathtraps. It had taken his people nearly a thousand years to recover, rebuild and return, and he would accept nothing less than victory on his own terms. That meant Velk couldn't be allowed to return to Priman space.
He had officially delegated Starr to deal with the matter, in whatever form she saw fit, and he had made it clear that he needed no details; he simply wanted to be told that he wouldn't see Velk again.
Starr still hadn't decided what she should do about Velk. First order of business was to break him out as soon as possible. She had a team making their way to Delos to set up a safehouse and help her with the operation. She'd make the next call from there.
She returned to her lunch, the prospect of subversively keeping the former Commander of her people detained not bothersome enough to ruin her meal.
Avenger had been in hyperspace for three days, running at three quarters of her top speed. Captain Elco had been taking it easy on his ship, determined to baby the vessel as long as possible after all the time she'd spent in drydock.
He stood up from his chair and walked his bridge, first turning around to head to the sensor and weapons stations in the aft. With a slightly lower ceiling and walled in on the sides by glass that also had data projected in it, the 'sensor shack' felt like its own little domain, with the captain and XO having the most direct access. From there he walked forward and took a step down to the navigation and control consoles. Beyond a railing from there was the main holo field generator and a traditional viewscreen; he proceeded down two more stairs to the port side and the main console there; communications and data management. He was about to turn back to the navigation station and ask about Avenger's time until reversion to realspace, but was beaten to it by the crewwoman there.
"Reversion in ten seconds, Captain," she alerted him briskly. A ten-count later, and Elco watched the forward viewscreen spring to life, providing the view ahead of his ship, while the holo field began populating with sensor data. A planet sprang to life in the slightly shimmering field, followed by Avenger, the battleship Majestic, and the cruiser Cobalt. Soon there also appeared all the traffic normally associated with a planet; orbitals such as space stations and factories, inbound and outbound traffic, and the like.
"All ships in formation, status nominal," reported the crewman at the communications station.
"Excellent," Elco began. "Comms, contact Traffic Control and ask for our inbound vector. Let's hope that the diplomats made the proper arrangements." This diplomatic mission would get off to a very rocky start if nobody had told the Lemurians they were coming and their first indication of a visit from the Confederation was three warships entering the system.
"Response, Captain," the comms officer replied. "Traffic Control has assigned us a standard orbit slot for the formation. Contact information has been provided to use when we've inserted."
"Efficient, as you'd expect," Elco said approvingly. The Drisk could always be counted on to run a tight ship. "I'm going to head down to talk to the XO in C3. Navigation, you have the conn."
"Aye, sir."
Loren heard footsteps in the port side stairwell. It was connected to the escape trunks, and was as utilitarian as the designers could have made the space. As a result, the steps were narrow and featured no extra reinforcing or soundproofing. Nobody would ever sneak down one of those stairwells. From the slow and somewhat hesitant pace being set by the owner of those footsteps, he guessed it was the captain.
Captain Elco appeared out of the hatch and made his way through the chamber to the raised platform where Loren and his second, Lieutenant Commander Sarria Mastruk, ran the C3 room. It was the heart of combat operations for the ship, a heavily armored fortress where the main laser batteries, point defense and anti-fighter weapons, torpedoes, and fighters were all controlled.
Loren threw a salute to Elco, who returned the gesture.
"Good news, Loren," Elco began.
"Every Priman just self-combusted?" Loren asked hopefully.
"Ok, let me make that fairly good news," Elco corrected. "We'll be in our orbit in fifteen minutes or so, and from there I'll be contacting the surface. Assuming preparations were made, we'll be coordinating a visit to the surface. You and I will both be going."
Loren looked puzzled.
"This is a meeting slanted to diplomacy," Elco began, "and there's a time-honored tradition for how these things work. The head honchos meet, shake hands, and tell each other what a nice person they think the other guy is. We'll gloss over the real business, then it's off to a busy schedule of photo ops and meetings, followed by a dinner. At some point in the day, the aides to the Really Important People," Elco smiled and pointed at himself while talking about the important people and Loren while talking about the aides, "get the actual work done, so that when the Important People meet again we both know what we can offer and accept. Negotiating takes place by you and whomever is the equivalent of you down there. We're not here to sell them a treaty, but anything of importance they have to say or offer will be said to you."
"Well, I'm not sure if that makes me feel special or insulted," Loren replied with a grin.
"You'll wish you were up here, trust me," Elco replied. "I'm going to have Cobalt set up an outer-system picket and drop some probes after coordinating with the Lemurian forces, of which there are pitifully few. Majestic will stay in the highest orbit the locals will let us have, and Avenger will sit a bit lower so we can shuttle back and forth to the surface easier." Elco looked at Mastruk and continued. "You'll get to run things around here without Loren in the way for a few days, Lieutenant Commander."
"Finally," she replied with a wink at Loren.
Loren adjusted his dress uniform as he looked at himself in the mirror again. It was something about that high collar, the way it stood up and rubbed his neck
if he turned his head the wrong way. The damn uniforms were full of supposedly important symbolism to all three of the Confederation's founding member species; Human, Drisk, and Qualin. The annoying shoulder boards were supposedly from the Trin, who while not founding members were one of the anchor species of Confed.
Loren realized that what he really wanted was Cassie to adjust everything one last time and tell him he looked presentable. After spending most of the war with her life in mortal danger, he thought it would be enough just to know she was safe again, but that wasn't the case; he just missed her that much more. The problem was, they both knew that he was not only good at his job, but wouldn't be able to live with himself if he wasn't doing his part to drive the Primans out of the Confederation's territory.
With a resigned sigh, he checked the ribbons on his chest one more time and headed towards the hatch to leave his quarters. He turned off the lights, brushed his hand against his low-riding hip holster to confirm the strap was secured, and opened the hatch.
It only took a few minutes to reach the hangar for the Vipers, his former squadron. He watched with longing as a flight of two Talon fighters spotted for launch, then were alternately pushed and then pulled from the hangar by the launch tractor projectors.
"Miss it that much, huh?" Loren heard a voice ask from behind him. He turned to see Commander Merritt Elder, the man in charge of the squadron.
"Did you come here just to taunt me?" Loren said with a smile.
"No, Web is going to take care of that," Merritt reassured him. "He'll be here in a bit; he managed to assign himself to fly your transport down."
"Commander!" Loren heard a cheerful voice call out from the duty desk, which straddled the open blast doorway between the hangar and ready rooms. It was Web, and he was all smiles. "I wanted to take the flight myself to ensure that your lily-white uniform and dainty hands aren't dirtied in the process."
