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

by Lawrence P White

  “Orders from the new regime, Captain. Now, what is the name, and what do you need?”

  “I hesitate to give a name, Admiral. My passenger is trying hard to keep a low profile, and once spoken, names cannot be rescinded.” His neck swung toward Mzdak, his head reaching across the desk. He said softly, “I’ll make it worth your while, sir.”

  He had intentionally moved into Mzdak’s private space. He wanted to put the admiral on the defensive, test him under stress, and it worked. Though the Empire was civilized, Mzdak knew that his kind would make a good meal for a dragon, and hard-learned instincts kindled of their own accord. The admiral backed away.

  “Sorry, sir. That was an unforgiveable breach of etiquette.”

  Clearly ruffled, Mzdak replied angrily, “Look, Captain, I’m under a lot of pressure here. I’m forced to do things I consider unconscionable, I’m behind on the work schedule, and now you come in and threaten me. My answer is no. Get out.”

  Stven took a risk. “Yes, sir. Before I go, have you, by any chance, been contacted by anyone speaking of Imperial matters?”

  Mzdak’s frog-like body sat up taller, and both eyes went in different directions, as if his thoughts were in turmoil. “Explain yourself, Captain.”

  “Certain individuals in high places are not, necessarily, supportive of the new regime, but they are of the old.”

  Mzdak’s eyes, both of them, turned to stare hard at Stven. “I’m holding here in accordance with Admiral Korban’s orders.”

  “Hmm. The word ‘hold’ carries some significance. My passenger has been considering making Orion III my next stop.”

  One of Mzdak’s bulbous eyes wandered as he considered a reply. “I just received word that a major battle was fought there. You might want to reconsider.”

  Stven’s mind raced. “Was Admiral Korban replaced, sir?”

  “No. His power base is stronger than ever. On his orders, I will be dispatching one of my squadrons there to replace some unanticipated losses, but he prevailed.”

  “Is that good news or bad?”

  “Who is your passenger, Captain?”

  Stven tossed one of Krys’ pins on the table. Mzdak stared at it for a time, then lifted one eye to Stven while the other continued staring at the pin. “I would imagine there are a number of those laying around the Palace right now.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been there. I will tell you that it’s active, sir. I’m not the one to open it.”

  “The Chosen are gone. These things are dead.”

  “Not true, sir. We have a Queen.”

  Mzdak leaned back and rested his behind on a wide bar. “You’re just another spy for Struthers. You can tell him I’m cooperating in every way.”

  “Since you’re working on Chessori ships, I’m sure that would please him.”

  Mzdak glared at him. “My loyalty is to Korban. That has never been in question, and he would tell you so. I don’t have to like the duties I’ve been given, but these orders came directly from Struthers.”

  “I’ve been Tested by our new Queen,” Stven said. “Will you submit?”

  “She’s here?” Mzdak asked, not believing Stven.

  “Of course not. I’ll be happy to take you to her.”

  “Your ship is damaged, and I certainly cannot leave.”

  “My ship is not damaged. I’m only here to talk to you. Where do you stand, Admiral? If not with Struthers, how do you justify working on Chessori ships? Those are military ships.”

  “This is an important base. His spies are everywhere, and I have no choice. Give me proof that what you say is true, and I might be willing to say more.”

  “Join me on my ship, and you will have your proof.”

  “Now?”

  “Right now. Come alone.”

  “I cannot. Like I said, there are spies everywhere.”

  “Then find a way. If you’re not there shortly after I reach the ship, I’ll leave. The opportunity will not come again.”

  Stven turned and left. He returned to Resolve, and a short time later a human dressed in civilian clothes approached. He was met at the top of the ramp by Trist who frisked him, then led the way to the lounge.

  Washburn and Stven met him there. He started talking immediately. “The admiral could not come. He is well-known at the port, and disguise was not possible. I represent him and can make decisions on his behalf.”

  “Who are you?” Stven asked.

  “One of his staff. He said you have proof?”

  Tarn entered the lounge. He lifted a hand holding a pin and opened it. The man instantly went to one knee. “Sire, if this is a ruse, I’ve fallen for it. If you’ll come with me, he’ll speak freely.”

  “There are Chessori military ships here. Why?”

  “He’ll explain, Sire.”

  “No. If you’re on his staff, you’re an Empire officer. I command you to explain.”

  The man lifted a shaking hand to his face. “I’m Captain Vrzak. We’re modifying the shields and weapons on the Chessori ships to Empire standards, Sire.”

  “I’m disappointed. How can you support those murderers?”

  The man reached a decision and stopped shaking. He looked Tarn right in the eye. “Power for the stronger shields and weapons is insufficient on the Chessori ships, and our modifications don’t work. If and when the modifications take that into consideration, the shields will fail early, Sire.”

  “You’ve sabotaged them?”

  “Not yet, they don’t work yet, but we’re prepared to sabotage them when it becomes necessary, Sire.”

  “On whose orders?”

  “Admiral Mzdak’s.”

  “He is in consultation with others? Is this part of a larger plan?”

  “I don’t know, Sire. He hates the Rebels. There’s not much we can do here, but we’re doing what we can. Rebel ships that come in for repair leave with a host of problems that will show up later.”

  “That takes a lot of cooperation from engineers and installers, Captain.”

  Vrzak turned angry eyes on him. “We risk everything, even knowing it won’t matter in the long run, and now . . . you tell us there is a Queen, that it might matter. Hope is a very powerful motivator, Sire. Admiral Mzdak is at your command. So are many others.”

  “I applaud your bravery and commitment, Captain. Rest assured that we are not a hoax. Your words are safe with us. I want a private meeting with Admiral Mzdak.”

  “I’ll return with a location, Sire.”

  “Captain,” Stven asked, his long neck arcing high above Vrzak, “what are you doing to the cruiser?”

  “The Chessori are installing a new system in Communications.”

  Stven’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Tarn handed Vrzak off to one of the Great Cats, and the man was escorted from the ship.

  Stven and Tarn stared at each other, their thoughts reaching the same conclusion. “Interstellar Communicator?” they both said at the same time.

  The meeting with Mzdak took place the following morning far from the port. Tarn met him at a busy restaurant that catered to many different tastes. Neither ate – both were too tense.

  “I will not display my pins in this place, Admiral.”

  “No, Sire, please don’t. I’m convinced, and I apologize for putting you through this. Your presence is . . . appreciated more than you will ever know. How may I serve?”

  “It appears that you already are. Besides what was mentioned yesterday, what have you done?”

  “We’ve dismantled the shields and weapons on the Chessori ships, but we ran into a nice problem. The installation cannot be supported by their power plants. To resolve the problem, we need to install new drives. Struthers is holding out until the Chessori reciprocate with the science and plans of their interstellar communications system, which they call a hypercom. They’re reluctant to supply the information, and we are at a temporary standstill. Negotiations are taking place on Triton as we speak.”

  “I’m curiou
s about the cruiser, Admiral. Is there any other information available concerning what’s taking place there?”

  “No, Sire. The crew was removed. Only Chessori are allowed aboard, and a surprisingly small number of them.”

  “You mean it’s vacant?” Tarn asked, surprised.

  “While they’re not working on it, yes. I’m told their work is nearly complete.”

  “Surely there are guards.”

  “There are. Three Chessori guard the only unlocked entrance to the ship. They tell me that is more than sufficient.”

  “Do you know that the Chessori are your enemies?” Tarn asked.

  One of Mzdak’s eyes shifted away, then both focused back on Tarn. “I know the work we’re doing was ordered by Struthers, so that makes them suspect in my mind.”

  “They’re definitely the enemy, sir.” Tarn looked away, considering what he’d heard, then he abruptly stood.

  “Something’s come up. I have to leave. I’ll get back in touch with you.”

  Washburn’s men fell in beside Tarn as they flagged down their skimmer. Borg and Kross were somewhere in the vicinity, but Tarn didn’t see them.

  “Should we sound the alert?” one of the men asked.

  “No. There’s no alert. We’re just heading back to the ship. I’m suddenly real uneasy about what’s going on here. I need some time to think before I take this any further. I definitely do not want to tell him about Buskin until I learn more about what’s going on.”

  Their return was without incident, and Tarn held a briefing in the lounge. “The cruiser is essentially vacant, guarded only by three Chessori, and it’s possible they’re installing an interstellar communicator, a hypercom. The Chessori military ships parked beside it are, reputedly, non-operational, and our scanners confirm that they’re shut down. We have an admiral who’s sabotaging Rebel ships, he’s made it difficult to meet with him, and I am not surprised to find all these things in a situation like this where he’s essentially operating on his own, without knowledge of a larger plan.”

  He paused, then said, “We could take the cruiser. If it has a hypercom aboard, it would be a huge boon to Chandrajuski.”

  “What are you getting at, Tarn?” Krys asked.

  “I suddenly got a bad feeling. This whole thing is so tempting that I think it might be a set-up. We know how hard the Rebels and Chessori have been looking for us and the Queen, and don’t forget, we’re in Orion Sector. We’ve been preparing for a long time to take a stand here, and according to Mzdak, the battle has been fought and won by Korban. If all that’s true, Struthers will be furious, and he’ll want us more than ever. What if that cruiser has a tracker on board? If we took it, we’d lead them right to the Queen.”

  A large puff escaped from Stven. Everyone’s hands started flailing at the air, and M’Sada was forced to leave for a few minutes.

  “If it’s a set-up, it’s a darn good one,” Stven offered.

  “And if we pass on it, if we’re wrong, we’ve lost a potential district, a major repair center, the chance of more ships for Buskin, and the interstellar communicator,” Krys said. “I, too, am uneasy with the situation, but I can’t say why. It’s just a feeling.”

  “How would we go about taking the cruiser?” O’Brien asked.

  Washburn answered. “I can take out the Chessori guards. We can get a pilot into the ship, and I could assign a few of my men to operate a gun battery or two.”

  M’Sada returned and spoke up. “It would require two pilots since it is not a fast ship. It’s three weeks to the first jump point, and someone will have to be on duty continuously. Let’s say it has a tracker. We could make a couple of jumps, then just leave the ship there and send experts back to pick it up, someone who knows how to disable the tracker.”

  “All that’s true,” Tarn said. “We could pull it off, I don’t doubt it for a moment. That’s why I’m so nervous about it. It’s too easy. I don’t think we’re giving the Rebels enough credit. We’ve been sort of cleaning their shorts lately, but they’re not the type to capitulate.”

  “Don’t forget their utter ruthlessness the night of the coup,” Bross said. “I, too, believe it could be a set-up. We should leave immediately.”

  “If it’s a set-up, can we leave? Won’t they be ready for just that?” Krys asked.

  “Why do I get the feeling we’re surrounded?” Tarn asked miserably.

  “If this really is a set-up, they’ll have a lot more ships nearby, just a short jump from the system,” M’Sada said, “and they’ll come at us from all directions. It might be safer to fall for their plan. If they really want us to escape, they’ll let us. They’d probably send a token force after us, but it would have orders to be ineffective.”

  Silence fell on the group for a time. Tarn broke it. “I think you should Test Admiral Mzdak, My Lady.”

  She looked at him like he’d gone crazy, then her eyes narrowed as she considered. “I can’t Test him, of course, but I could attempt a vision.”

  Another puff escaped from Stven, and M’Sada was forced to leave again.

  * * * * *

  Shortly after sundown, a woman approached the ship and asked permission to enter. A Great Cat brought her to the lounge where Stven and Borg confronted her. Dressed in an immaculate Empire uniform, pins denoting the rank of commander shone at the collar of her white blouse. Blue eyes settled first on the dragon, then went to Borg.

  Stven was brusque. “Who are you, and what is your purpose here?”

  “Who I am is unimportant,” she replied, her gaze continuing to focus on Borg. “I am here on behalf of one of your People.”

  “Where is he?”

  “She. Great Cats are no longer welcome here, but we have observed several of you coming and going from your ship. Very unusual. She requests retrieval.”

  “That word has special meaning.”

  “I know. She’s seriously wounded. She’s been hiding out, and we could not get her to a restoration tank.”

  “Who is ‘we?’”

  “She told me I could risk telling you that a small group of us have come together to resist the Rebels.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Just outside the port. I’ll take you to her.”

  “No. You’re temporarily confined to the ship. Tell me where she is. I’ll send someone else. Is she mobile?”

  “She is, but just barely.”

  Borg detailed a cat to make the retrieval, but the woman corrected him. “Send two. They will be noticed, and one will have to remain behind for a while. They’ve been looking for her, and if three Great Cats come through the gate when only two left, they will know who the third is.”

  The cats left, and Borg began prowling the room. “Your words betray little, but they infer much. Who are you?”

  “I am Commander Akurea Skvechavka’a, and I’m here to warn you. You are in grave danger.”

  “Explain.”

  “Admiral Mzdak was warned that he might receive a visit by a woman traveling on a small ship and that she would be accompanied by Protectors. He was expecting a much smaller ship, but if you are that ship, you are to be apprehended. He’s taken his instructions a step further and contrived a deception. He believes this woman can lead him to the leader of the résistance movement. Your sister will confirm what I say.”

  Tarn and Krys were called. O’Brien and Washburn showed up with them and Skvechavka’a was introduced, but the courtesy was not returned. It was a clear and intentional omission.

  “May I ask who you are?” Commander Skvechavka’a asked.

  “If we tell you, you will have to remain aboard,” Bross replied.

  “I think your sister will convince you otherwise,” she said. “I’ll agree to your terms if she does not.”

  Krys stepped forward and placed her Knight’s pin in Akurea’s hand, then opened it.

  Akurea took a step back, then quickly went to one knee. “My Lady, you confirm what the Great Cat told us, and I now understand why the R
ebels hold so much interest in you.”

  “What has she told you?”

  “That we have a Queen and that the Queen is counting on us to stay the course. She believes our efforts here will have a material impact on the Queen’s success.”

  “And just what are those efforts?”

  Before she could answer, two Great Cats came into the lounge, and all eyes turned to the second in line. She staggered into the room with glazed eyes. One front hand was missing and a terrible, festering burn stretched from her shoulder to her tail, exposing the bones of her ribs to the air.

  Krys instantly went to her, turning a scathing look on her escort. “Why are these wounds not covered?” she demanded.

  “The bandages would have been a dead give-away,” the Great Cat answered. “We had to remove them to enter the port. It’s dark out, and I do not believe anyone noticed.”

  The Great Cat collapsed at her feet. Even Borg, not known for his gentleness, came to her and placed a hand on her neck. He spoke a few words in his own language, and the cat replied at length in that language, then lay her head on the floor and closed her eyes.

  Borg turned to Krys. “Her name is Flan. She needs the Tank, My Lady.”

  “By all means. Can she get to it?”

  Flan struggled to her feet and was escorted from the room. Krys turned to Borg. “What did she say?”

  “She’s from Buskin. She came as a back-up pilot in case they ran into trouble, but the crew was killed as soon as they delivered their message. The ship left without her, but it was shot down. Her working name is Flan. She was patrolling outside the headquarters when she was attacked. As you can see, she barely escaped.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Three months.”

  “Three months! She’s been in that condition for three months?”

  “Her wounds could not be repaired without a hospital. I, too, am amazed that she is alive. To have held on this long, she must have believed her purpose here was important. After what she told me, I believe she was right.”

  He turned to Akurea. “Your loyalty to the Queen is no longer in question, Commander. It is time for you to tell us the rest of what you know.”