by Rachel Aukes
Knowing that both the CUF and the Founders would try multiple assassination attempts, they’d tried to keep Seda hidden from the public eye. That was a task proving to be impossible.
Sixx and Reyne walked through the massive hangar to the rooms at the other end. When they walked into the lounge, Seda and Critch—who’d been talking with Heid via a wall screen—both stopped and turned. They stood and approached Reyne.
Seda reached Reyne first, and they clasped forearms. “I’m glad you could make it. Did the fleet in orbit cause any trouble for you?”
“Strangely, not a peep,” Reyne answered.
“That’s what I was expecting.” Seda stepped back. “There’s a lot we need to catch you up on.”
Critch clasped Reyne’s forearm. “I won’t kid you. Things are a mess.”
“What else is new?” Reyne replied drily, and he took a seat.
Heid waved through the comm. “It’s good to see you, Reyne.”
He gave her a small nod. “Good to see you, too, Gabriela. I hear you’ve been keeping Vym busy.”
“Yes, a third of production has been switched to preparing the colony ship.”
“What?” Seda and Critch asked at the same time.
She glanced at the other men in the room. “I’m working with Vym to rebuild and stock the Matador for a colonization mission. I’ll send you the plans, but I know we have more pressing matters today.”
“You’ve repurposed the Matador?” Critch asked through narrowed eyes. “We’re going to need that ship to transport supplies to the colonies. This is no time to talk about colonizing more worlds. You know the amount of resources that takes away from the Campaign?”
“The Campaign is why we need to talk about colonizing new worlds now rather than later,” she said.
“We shouldn’t even be thinking about colonization,” Critch countered.
Heid glared. “Have you always been this hardheaded?”
“No,” Critch replied. “I’ve become more laid back.”
She blew out a breath. “We have so many refugees to resettle, and many of these refugees want a fresh start—not on an established colony, but somewhere new. This is a chance for the fringe to start fresh, without the Collective’s shadow.”
“Without juice, the Matador will take decades to reach new solar systems with habitable worlds. That means it’ll need to be a generation ship, not just a transport ship,” Seda said.
Heid frowned. “I heard about the plants. That puts a cramp on the plans, but we can work around it.”
“How will you find a crew?” Critch asked. “No one’s going to want to be a bus driver for the rest of their life.”
Heid lifted her chin. “I’m going to captain the ship. And I’ve already received the names of several volunteers who want to join my crew.”
“You?” Critch asked, incredulous. “We need you here, for the Campaign. You can’t—”
“Yes, I can,” she interrupted. “My mind is already made up. As soon as we have a peace treaty, I’ll captain the Matador. I see it as the most important command I’ll ever take. Don’t you see? I’ll be shepherding humankind to a new solar system. We messed things up in the Jovian and Centauri systems. Maybe I can help get things right in the third system.”
Critch waved her off. “We’ll talk about this later. You were right before. We have bigger things to cover, starting with what the hell is the Arcadia doing in a face-off against the fleet about Rebus Station?”
“I didn’t anticipate their scans picking us up,” she said.
“You shouldn’t even be here,” Critch said. “We can’t risk losing our only warship.”
“What good is a warship if it’s not used?” she answered, sounding exasperated.
“One warship facing off against two warships, each with their own complement? Exactly how is that level?” Critch demanded.
“The Arcadia can hold her own,” Heid replied with confidence. “Two frigates are out of commission.”
Critch waved a hand. “Oh, great. That only leaves two warships, two more frigates, and a dozen destroyers, not to mention several dozen gunships.”
“I have reasonable confidence one of those warships will not attack.”
“Reasonable confidence? Exactly what does that mean?” Critch continued.
“Enough,” Seda bellowed. “The Arcadia is in orbit, which means the fleet is focused on Heid at the moment. That may be what’s preventing Ausyar from firing on another Terran target.” He turned to Heid. “Have they tried to contact you yet?”
Her features smoothed, and she straightened. “They’re broadcasting a message on endless loop. Corps General Ausyar demands the immediate surrender of my crew and me on the grounds of treason and theft of Collective property.”
Which is true, Reyne thought to himself.
“Did he give you a time limit to respond?” Seda asked.
“No,” she said. “He’s stalling. After the frigates, I don’t believe he’s ready to initiate another attack until he better understands the Arcadia’s modifications. However, I’m keeping the entire crew on full alert. The moment they fire—either on us or on Terra—we will attack the Unity.”
Seda placed his hands on his desk. “I believe we should use the Arcadia to our advantage. Now is the time to negotiate a peace treaty.”
“We don’t have the upper hand,” Reyne said. “They’ll take everything they can.”
“They’ll screw us on any negotiation,” Critch agreed.
“You really think Ausyar will negotiate?” Heid asked.
“No,” Seda said bluntly. “If I sit down with him, we’ll know if Parliament is interested in peace, or how far they intend to go down the warpath. Sixx and I saw public opinion on Myr. Citizens are tired of feeding money into the CUF to monitor the colonies, most of which they don’t even want. For every protest on Myr, there are dozens of protests taking place on Alluvia. The vast majority of Alluvians are even talking about breaking free from the Collective themselves. Public opinion is in our favor. Now is the perfect time to hold out our hands in peace. As the Campaign drags on, citizens are bound to become apathetic, or worse, begin to side with the CUF.”
Silence filled the room for a moment.
“I support negotiations,” Reyne said. “We lost the first Uprising because the other side outlasted us. My greatest fear is to watch the same thing happen all over again.”
“You have my support,” Heid said. “As long as you stand firm and don’t let them take rights away from the colonists. The colonies need to stand free. This may be our only chance to free them all.”
“I’m in,” Critch said. “If they try to screw us, we can use the blight.”
Everyone turned to Critch.
“You didn’t destroy that?” Reyne asked, slack-jawed.
Critch’s lip curled upward.
Reyne guffawed. “We can’t even think of using the blight. If we do, we’re no better than them.” He pointed to the sky, to where the fleet remained in orbit.
“Let’s exhaust political options first,” Seda said, sounding like a true diplomat. “If negotiations fail, then we must discuss how expansive the Campaign should become. I’m rich, but my accounts are draining fast. I cannot support a drawn-out war. Mason knows that, and will use any knowledge he can in his favor.”
“We need to move headquarters,” Critch said. “I don’t like Mason knowing we’re here.”
“Mason knows we’re here?” Reyne asked, tension coiling in his gut.
Seda opened and closed his artificial hand, as though disinterested in the conversation. “I suspect he knows.”
“Then you need to relocate immediately,” Heid said. “If Ausyar knew, he’d bomb you the first chance he got. If he were to kill you, the Campaign would be over.”
“We’re still here, which means Ausyar doesn’t know. I think we have time. As we speak, I’m having supplies delivered to an asteroid inside the Space Coast. I had it staked out as a fallout shelter
of sorts, and when I saw the direction the Collective was heading, I had the interior built out. I’d planned it to be a surprise for Mariner, so she did not know about it, which means Mason doesn’t know about it. It can only support twenty people at this time, which works for us, but leaves our army out in the open. The Citadel provides some protection, but I don’t like the idea of leaving our people behind to face the CUF’s mercy.”
“We’ve all seen firsthand the CUF doesn’t know the term.” Reyne swallowed. “Let’s negotiate and finish this.”
Chapter Fourteen
Playing Politics
Rebus Station, Terra
Seda
Five hours elapsed before the official negotiation meeting. During that time, the torrent leaders hashed over the talking points, Seda notified the news of the event, and Ausyar would’ve consulted with Parliament—and, no doubt, Mason.
The meeting was held at the stationmaster’s office in Rebus Station. Seda had offered to host, as it was customary for any political and business meeting of worth to take place on land.
Out of the three captains, Seda only permitted Critch to join him in the room. The other two marshals were furious to say the least, but Seda had been planning the Uprising for years, and he wasn’t going to have Ausyar’s personal conflicts get in the way of independence.
Ausyar considered Heid a Collective traitor, number one on the CUF’s most-wanted list, and he’d have her shot her on sight. She’d very publicly humiliated him. She was an officer promoted by him and entrusted with a warship, which she’d then stole under his watch. He’d want to personally—and publically—make her pay for her disrespect.
And Ausyar hated Reyne with the heat of a supernova, because Reyne had killed Ausyar’s consort, Zara Wintsel. It didn’t matter that Wintsel’s death had been accidental, Ausyar single-mindedly sought to avenge her death. Seda suspected that Ausyar’s pride had been stung worse than his heart at the loss of his consort.
Under Myrad law, Ausyar could satisfy his personal vendettas against Heid and Reyne without repercussions. That left Critch, aka Drake Fender, as the only torrent marshal who could be in the same room as Ausyar.
Ausyar had been chasing Critch for years, and it had to stick in Ausyar’s craw that one man, basically a simple thief, had been able to evade the armada for so long. Critch and his specters had made more than one CUF commandant a laughing stock. Even now, during the Campaign, Critch drew volunteers by the hundreds, while Ausyar had to resort to drafting colonists to serve the Collective. Critch was a thorn in the corps general’s side, plain and simple.
Seda rubbed his temples. Having Drake Fender—the scarred face of the torrent rebellion—in the room during negotiations would be crucial for the colonists to buy in to any peace treaty.
But hell. Torrent, pirate, whichever role Critch was playing that day, neither would contribute to good negotiations. Though, Seda had to give Critch credit. The man was an astute businessman, and a man Seda had come to respect. As a pirate, Critch had accumulated a fleet of over a dozen ships and countless properties. But pirating was a far cry from politicking, even though both were cutthroat professions.
Seda read messages on his comm panel to keep anxiety from showing on his face. Critch lounged in a chair off to the side. He looked like he was napping, but Seda knew differently. The pirate would make a damn good poker player, Seda humored himself.
“Ausyar’s arrived at the station,” Hari said, and Seda looked up to see her at the doorway. She’d brought with her Tax and Corbin, Seda’s two most trusted guards, and the trio placed themselves around the room where they could best protect Seda and watch for trouble.
Seda didn’t really think there’d be an assassination attempt today, not with the meeting being recorded and sent out to all his news sources. Parliament would no doubt have the video clipped and modified to better tell their side of the story, but that would only benefit Seda, as Vapor would post the full, unedited video online for everyone to see.
He stood and moved to the center of the room, where two chairs had been set to establish an equal platform for the two leaders to speak. Out of habit, he checked his right side to make sure the robotic arm was firmly in place. He glanced over at Critch, to see the man’s gaze now rapt on the door.
Two officers walked through the doorway and looked over the room. Seemingly satisfied, they turned and nodded. A commandant, who looked young for his position, walked in first, followed by Corps General Michel Ausyar, who was followed by four more officers. The corps general wore a blue uniform adorned with a chest full of pins and medals. Seda drily wondered how many of those Ausyar had actually earned and how many were for decoration.
The blue-hued Myrad looked across the faces in the room and seemed unimpressed. When his gaze settled on Seda, the general’s nose lifted even higher in the air, a feat Seda hadn’t thought possible.
“Corps General Ausyar, thank you for coming today.” Seda gestured to the chairs. “Please, have a seat.”
Ausyar chose a chair and gestured for Seda to sit, as though he were the host. “Mr. Faulk.”
Seda didn’t miss the fact that Ausyar hadn’t used Seda’s formal title of Stationmaster, and he knew the omission was an intentional power play. Ausyar was clearly trying to reduce Seda’s status and, thereby, his power in negotiations. Seda wanted to laugh. The corps general thought he was the superior party in the room today. He had no idea.
Seda gracefully took a seat without comment or any betrayal of emotion. “We’re here to discuss fair and equitable terms for a peace treaty.”
Ausyar waved him off. “Let’s cut to the chase, Mr. Faulk. The Collective authority of Myr and Alluvia established the colonies. They have been supported by the Collective and, in exchange, are expected to return support. I do not see any logic wherein they can make such inflammatory demands upon the Collective.”
Seda continued as though he’d never been interrupted. “The first colony, right here where we’re sitting today, was established 388 years ago. Since then, nearly a hundred colonies have been established on the four colony worlds—and in the Space Coast, if you were to count an asteroid belt. These colonies have grown and thrived, in part thanks to the Collective, and in part despite the Collective. Since the beginning of space travel, it’s been universally accepted that all people are equal in every way. After all, we all originated from Earth. Yet here we are in a political predicament wherein people living in the colonies are being denied citizenship because they weren’t born on either Alluvia or Myr. For nearly one hundred years, colonists have been asking for equal rights. Parliament has ignored those voices and has instead passed new legislation that further discriminate against the colonies in favor of bringing more money and power to Myr and Alluvia.” Seda raised a finger. “Both of which were also considered colonies until they declared their independence and developed their own governance.
“Colonies either wilt or blossom. Those that bloom claim independence. That is the natural evolution for every colony. We only need to look at Mars and Europa for examples, and Earth’s country nations before that. The fringe has reached the point where independence is as necessary as air for the colonies to survive and thrive. We’ve made our intentions clear and desire no war, but legalized discrimination and undue taxation must end now. All the colonies must be free. Only then will humanity thrive across the stars.”
Ausyar sighed and blinked heavily as if Seda had nearly put him to sleep. “Mr. Faulk, you talk of the colonies as being separate from the Collective, but all six planets constitute the Collective. Every planet is a contributor to the Collective’s success. We value the colony worlds as much as we value the citizen worlds.”
“I must disagree,” Seda said. “If all six planets are equal parts of the whole, why are the colonies taxed at thirty-six times the tax rate charged to citizens of Alluvia and Myr? Why, then, is there only one senator to represent four colony worlds in Parliament, while Alluvia and Myr each have five delegates? In
a democratic Parliament, a ratio such as that only guarantees the colonies have no voice.”
Ausyar shrugged. “Parliament was established before the colonies were founded. Delegation was based on population size. Of course, Myr and Alluvia have more delegates.”
“If delegates align with population size, then why hasn’t the Parliament structure changed in over three hundred years? Colonists outnumber citizens three to one. By your logic, if Parliament were a democratic structure, the fringe would send thirty delegates, not one. To me, it seems Parliament is hamstringing the voice of the colonies.”
Impatience darkened Ausyar’s face. “Did you ask me here today so you could lecture me on the Collective government structure, or do you have a point to make? I’m a busy man, Mr. Faulk, and have little time for a tête-à-tête.”
Seda smiled inwardly, and he imagined Critch was finding similar humor in watching Ausyar’s annoyance swell. “I’m here to discuss with you the terms of removing all colony planets from the Collective.”
Ausyar raised his brows. “And am I to understand you have the authority to speak for all colonies?”
“I do,” Seda replied with confidence. “Representatives of every fringe station have given me authority to represent their planet’s interests.”
“Parliament speaks for the colonies, not you.”
“Wrong. Per the declaration of independent fringe colonies, we no longer recognize Parliament’s authority as a governing structure.” Seda flipped it back to Ausyar. “And I suppose you have the license to speak for the Collective?”
“I’m here under the authority of the Collective Unified Forces.”
“Does that authority include Parliament and the Collective overall?”
Ausyar shifted in his chair. “Of course.”
