Knights of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Two)

by Lawrence P White

  “If you’re sending out that many, am I now free to focus on finding the Queen?” Kris asked.

  Buskin looked at her kindly. “You’ve always been free to do as you choose. You set the process in motion, and everything my men and I have done is a result of the power of your message. That hasn’t changed. I report to Chandrajuski, let there be no question of that, but until the visit from Veswicki, I’ve thought of us as Krys’ fleet. I still do,” he added, peering carefully into her eyes. “I hope you don’t abandon us.”

  Tarn grinned, and M’Sada’s preening became more rapid. Stven narrowly avoided releasing a puff. “Thank you, sir,” she said, clearly uncertain of herself. “I will not abandon you, though I will do the Queen’s bidding. What are you going to do with my fleet?”

  “Until called, I’ll keep building, keep waiting, train the cats, and keep my men sharp. That’s not an easy task out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “It sounds miserable. How long can you wait?”

  “As long as it takes. I’ve got some excellent contacts at district levels who keep me supplied. I may have to start rotating my men through for shore leave, but we can handle another year, at least. It’s not your problem,” he said with a smile. “We’re going to focus on districts next,” he said. “The Rebels will need a lot of manpower to bring the districts under their control, and it will take a long time. There are thousands of districts, and they will be fertile recruitment grounds for us, I’m certain.”

  Krys looked worried. “They don’t have the resources of the sector headquarters.”

  “Not so, Krys. In many ways, they are the resources of the sector commanders. Districts don’t have control of large fleets, but they do command squadrons, many, many squadrons, and some of those squadron commanders are going to be loyal to the Queen when they find out about her existence. I’m sending lots and lots of fighters out to as many districts as I can to spread the word. I expect more success at the district level than at the sector level, and remember . . . every squadron we keep from Struthers is one more squadron for the Queen and one less for him. Equally important, if we get bogged down and can’t win at the top, we’ll have to do it district by district. The more of them we have under our wings, the faster it will go.”

  “So we need to prepare new lists?”

  “We do. The list of sector commanders is nearly exhausted. Chandrajuski will follow up with the ones we’ve brought back into the fold. Our job is to keep searching for new ones to add to his list. It’s dangerous, but necessary.”

  “What’s Governor Veswicki doing?”

  “For the moment, he’s consolidating what he has. He’s promised to have ten sectors behind him soon. He’s waiting to make his move until Chandrajuski gives the okay. As you know, the Chessori issue has significantly muddied the waters.”

  “Are we all competing for the Great Cats, then?”

  Buskin rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. Veswicki hinted at another plan. The First Knight apparently has something in mind, but he’s not ready to discuss it. Until someone comes up with a better plan, I’ll take all the Great Cats I can get.”

  “It’s asking a lot of the cats.”

  “It is, and even with them, it’s far from ideal. We haven’t been able to test them under battle conditions, but we’re expecting a significant reduction in abilities. The fact that they function at all is our only hope at the moment.”

  “The mind weapon is a truly horrible thing. My Protectors struggled mightily to keep going.”

  “But they were effective?”

  Stven lifted his head. “It’s more like the Chessori were ineffective, sir. Borg chose not to maneuver on the two Chessori. He acted, instead, as if the ship suddenly ceased functioning, as it would have under the influence of the mind weapon. The Chessori approached unshielded, certain of victory. It really wasn’t much of a fight.”

  “Hmm. I’ll bet that’s one of the things he discussed in his meeting with his brothers. It’s a good strategy, at least at the start of a battle.”

  “But only for a little while,” M’Sada interjected. “If ships manned by Chessori outnumber ships manned by the cats, they could have a real problem on their hands when they merge.”

  “Agreed. We’ll have to model things, test them out, and let the cats learn how close they can let their opponents get.”

  “Can you do that without the influence of the mind weapon?”

  “We can approximate it. We can dial down the effectiveness of the cats’ weapons and find out what works best.”

  “If they’re up against Chessori ships, those ships will not be limited in any way. If they’re up against Rebel ships with partial Chessori crews, there could be a huge degradation on the side of the attackers.”

  “Exactly, and each situation will have different tactics. Your own encounter with the Chessori suggests something else to me. They approached with high confidence. That might well be a natural trait. If they’ve had this mind weapon for long, it might have become their primary weapon, one they expect to see work in every situation. If so, at least in the early stages of a battle, that would be in our favor. We’re going to reconsider how we position our forces at the beginning.”

  “Are there reports of anyone going up against a Chessori ship?” M’Sada asked, his upper hands preening.

  “Other than your own and a number of encounters by the Queen, there are none that I know about, at least none that survived.”

  “If they rely on this mind weapon, I wonder how good their weapons and shields are?”

  “Hmm. Good point. I have a feeling we’re going to find out – the hard way.”

  Krys and Tarn remained behind when the meeting ended. “I have a personal request, sir, if you can spare a little time,” she said.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I was injured during the Chessori attack on Rappor.”

  “I know. I wish you’d told me. Doctor Qrondra believes you’re recovering nicely.”

  “I feel fine, but I have not attempted a vision since the attack. Are you willing to allow an attempt with you?”

  Buskin didn’t hesitate. “I’d be honored.”

  “If it doesn’t work, I’d like to keep it private for the present.”

  “I understand. You might not be completely yourself yet.”

  Krys took her seat with a hesitant smile at Tarn. His heart went out to her, but in this area, he could not help. He gave her ten minutes to sink fully into her meditative state, then he asked Buskin to take her hand.

  Buskin leaned down and took both of her hands in his. There was no change visible on Krys’ countenance, but a few moments later she opened her eyes to stare worriedly into his eyes.

  Her gaze went to Tarn, then back to Buskin who still held her hands. “Thank you, Admiral. I’m back in business.”

  He let go of her hands and backed away. “What did you see?”

  “I appeared to be looking through your eyes. I think you must have been out in space and in the net because I could see in all directions. Behind you, a blue and white planet was receding. One gray moon hung off to the side. In front of you, far in the distance, an array of many, many ships approached. That’s all I saw.”

  “Whose ships?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Tarn asked softly, “What color were they?”

  “Bright blue.”

  Tarn and Buskin looked at each other. “Chessori appear in bright blue, sir,” Tarn said.

  Buskin nodded, his expression grim as he looked at Krys. “How many were there?”

  “Many. Maybe a thousand. The vision was accompanied with words, as some are.” She closed her eyes and said,

  “Follow, or lead? Where once it was dirt, a King’s tears now fall through spread fingers. The battle is won, the war lost.”

  Buskin’s focus went internal as he considered the words. So, too, did Tarn’s. Buskin spoke first. “We’re going to lose?” he breathed.

  Krys spoke s
oftly, not wanting to disturb Tarn who was seated nearby and thinking hard. “The words must be considered in full, sir. When words accompany a vision, they are always in the form of a riddle. Taken in pieces, the words can be misleading. Tarn has had some success with deciphering the riddles.”

  She and Buskin waited for Tarn to open his eyes. When he did, he looked unhappy.

  “I don’t sense the pattern this time, Krys. Some of it is obvious, but key parts are not, and those parts could entirely change the meaning of the riddle.” His gaze moved to Buskin. “Her visions seem to apply to the one who touches her. Most likely, she has seen something in your future.”

  “That much I understood,” Buskin said dryly.

  “Follow or lead? That could have several meanings.” He looked at Krys. “Did you get a sense of their meaning?”

  “It seemed like a choice must be made.”

  Tarn nodded and looked to Buskin. “It could mean you’ve received orders from someone above you that you might have to disobey.”

  Buskin frowned. “My sense, as well. I hope it’s not so.”

  “It’s the second part that makes no sense to me, sir. Since Daughter is Queen, her husband, Jornell, is King.”

  “Not so, Lieutenant. Jornell is dead.”

  Krys sucked in a breath, her thoughts on the Queen. “She has a daughter, doesn’t she?”

  “She does.”

  Tarn frowned. “If we don’t have a king, who’s king is it? We’ve seen the word ‘dirt’ in several of your visions, Krys. It has always referred to a certain individual. We don’t know who he is. Could he be a king?”

  Krys shook her head. “We don’t know anything about him. I’ve never sensed he was a king, but I suppose it’s possible. I have no idea what he’s crying about.”

  “Nor do I,” Tarn replied. “The rest of the words are well understood by everyone in this room, but what battle, and what war? Is it our war, or is it this king’s war?” He looked to Buskin. “Any idea, sir?”

  “No, but your reasoning is helpful. Seen through your eyes, I sense something strongly from the message, and I do believe it is a message.”

  “I do, as well, sir, and the vision of a thousand ships is part of it. I believe there is a great battle in your future. I’m concerned about this king’s tears. When I look at the pattern of Krys’ visions, all of them have been of something that was yet to happen, but in every case of which I’m aware, they applied to our war against the Rebels and Chessori. I believe that whatever this king is crying about pertains to us, the Queen, and our own war. In this particular case, I sense a warning more than I sense a done deal.” He looked at Krys. “What is your sense, My Lady?”

  “I, too, sense a warning. We’ve spoken of changing the outcome of visions, and this might be a case of doing just that. We were successful once.”

  Tarn pursed his lips and nodded. Buskin sat down deep in thought. When he lifted his eyes to them, he said, “It appears, when taken as a whole, that I will have to make a choice, perhaps disobey an order, and if I choose wrong we’ll lose the war. Any idea when this will happen?”

  Krys shook her head. “I do not sense imminence. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, but it’s possible that the fate of the Empire rests on your shoulders.”

  * * * * *

  When Buskin’s squadron exited hyperspace, only a few civilian traders showed on the screens. Brodor lay some three weeks ahead. Admiral Buskin identified himself and was told to continue inbound but to expect visitors. A ship left the planet soon after. A week and a half later, it was inspected, then invited aboard. Buskin, Krys, and her three Protectors waited on the hangar deck as the ramp descended.

  Three Great Cats padded down the ramp, Otis in the lead. Krys shrieked and ran to him, wrapping her arms around the fur of his neck. He suffered her ministrations, though he, too, seemed pleased. A look of sheer happiness filled her eyes as she stepped back from him.

  “Welcome to Brodor, Krys,” he stated solemnly.

  “It’s so good to see you, old friend.”

  “It’s good to see you. I wish the circumstances were different. You are . . . older.”

  “So are you. Is she here?”

  “No.”

  “I’ve never known you to be away from her.”

  “I was wounded. I’m not yet back to my old self. Your brother is well, by the way.”

  She grinned. “He’s a Knight now, isn’t he.”

  Otis nodded. “He’s wearing Sir Jarl’s pins.”

  “Oh, I wish I could have been there. It must have been special.”

  “It was. Will you make the introductions?”

  Buskin led the small delegation to his conference room. They got down to business immediately.

  “I need more Great Cats, Sire,” Buskin began.

  “I just arrived back on Brodor, only to find that you’ve absconded with quite a few of my brothers already. What, exactly, are you doing with them?”

  “Training them on the net, Sire. They’re the only known tool we have against the Chessori.”

  “I’ve been under the influence of this mind weapon many times. It’s not an easy thing to deal with. You expect them to fight and fly at the same time? Finesse is not possible while functioning under the strain of the mind weapon.”

  Borg spoke. “I have fought and won in spite of it.”

  “How many times, and against how many?”

  “Once. We took out two Empire fighters crewed by Chessori. A bit of subterfuge helped, Sire. Kross, too, took out a Chessori trader while piloting a frigate. Sheeb did the shooting.”

  Otis nodded. He turned back to Buskin. “How many do you need?”

  “As many as you can send, Sire. So far I have twenty-three squadrons to man, and I expect more, many more.”

  Otis looked from Buskin to Krys. “You’ve been busy, more busy than I knew. Does Chandrajuski know?”

  Buskin answered. “If he doesn’t yet, he will soon. I recently spoke with Governor Veswicki. Chandrajuski can plan for a thousand ships at the rate we’re going.”

  “A thousand!” Otis padded across the room, then turned back to Buskin. “The Queen has about 40 at the moment.”

  Buskin’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps I should go to her.”

  Otis considered. “No, Veswicki will supply more, and she’s well hidden. I like your plan, and I like the idea of a reserve force. It’s going to take time to gather my brothers together and train them.”

  “It is, Sire. I’d like to suggest that instead of sending Great Cats to me, send them after more Great Cats. Build a network, then deliver.”

  Otis shook his head. “Had I known of your needs, it would already be in place. I’ll get started immediately.”

  “Sire, I don’t necessarily need fully qualified Guardians. I need bodies that can function under the mind weapon. I’ll train anyone you send.”

  “You’re running a school out there, wherever ‘there’ is?”

  “I’m doing whatever it takes, Sire.”

  “It takes a certain . . . hardness . . . to function against the scree. Our young ones might not be up to it. I’ll take it under consideration. What else is on your agenda?”

  “That’s all I came here to do. We need to work out rendezvous points and passwords, that’s all.”

  “It’s not all. There are other developments of which you should be aware. You must visit Chandrajuski personally, and perhaps the Queen, as well. A force the size of yours cannot hide out in obscurity forever – you should be part of whatever plans are being developed.”

  He padded away from Buskin for a moment, then turned back to face him, peering hard into his eyes. “You bring great honor to your uniform, Admiral. Chandrajuski chose well. In the Queen’s name, I thank you for what you have done.” He sat, then looked at the two other Great Cats with him. When he turned back to Buskin, he said, “Work out the recruiting details with my men here. I need to spend some time with Krys. If you’ll excuse us, I’ll see you again
before I leave.”

  “Very well, Sire, and thank you. My plan won’t work without your brothers.”

  “Actually, it might. If things go as planned, my men will be a temporary measure. Chandrajuski will explain.” He, Krys, and Tarn left.

  “Will you join me on my ship?” Otis asked her.

  “Will you join me on mine? I’d like my crew to meet you. None of them has ever met a Knight. They’ve had no proof of the Queen’s existence, only my words.”

  “I’d be delighted, and they deserve proof. You and I will need some privacy.”

  “I know. I hope you’ll include Tarn. He’s the Guide.”

  Otis stopped dead in his tracks, a low growl escaping his throat. He turned to Tarn, looking carefully at the young man before him. After a time, he nodded and held out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you. So we finally know who her Guide is.”

  “Uh, not exactly, Sire.”

  “You’re not her Guide, the one we were told to expect?”

  “I might be, Sire. When her need was greatest, I was there. I believe that was the promise?”

  “Then why are you uncertain?”

  “I’m no longer uncertain, Sire. I am the Guide, but not her guide.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said, turning to Krys.

  “Neither did I, at first,” she said. “I was looking for someone to guide me, when that was not what the Leaf People promised at all. They never promised me my own guide, only that the Guide would find me. My visions are for others, Otis, and I’ve never been able to interpret them. Tarn has. He’s their Guide.”

  Otis nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve had more visions then. Your skills have improved?”

  “Marginally. I wish I had someone who could teach me.”

  “You know your next stop must be the Queen.”

  She nodded. “I knew the moment I saw you. I’ve not yet met anyone who knows where she is.”