Graveyard of Empires

by Lincoln Cole

  “Were those my orders?” Abdullah asked.

  Jamar nodded. “And they were excellent, my friend.”

  Abdullah allowed himself to be steered over to the door of the bridge. They dodged several other officers and assistants before finding a quiet place to stand. Jamar removed his hand from Abdullah’s shoulder and then swept it across in a dramatic motion.

  “This,” he said, “is like a well-oiled machine.”

  Abdullah watched people scrambling around him. Lights flashed. Sirens blared. A soldier slipped and fell only a few feet away, hitting his arm hard on a rail. Only Captain Grove, standing on her raised platform, seemed relaxed. She could have been on a beach somewhere, she was so calm.

  “It looks chaotic,” Abdullah said.

  “Indeed,” Jamar agreed. “But there is beauty in chaos. If you can control it…harness it…why: there is no telling what you might accomplish.”

  Abdullah didn’t know what to say.

  Denigen’s Fist rocked suddenly, followed by a loud roar.

  “Did we just fire the plasma cannon?” Abdullah asked. Jamar nodded.

  “You just disabled their engines. Your next shot will damage their hanger to keep anyone from fleeing. The third shot will take out the bridge. You’re certain the battle will only take three shots and are hoping to minimize loss of life.”

  “What about drop pods?”

  Jamar held out his hands. “Four ships are deploying between the smuggling ship and the planet. Any pods they cannot capture are to be destroyed.”

  “What else did I order?”

  “Twenty ships will board from four entry points, entering with concussion grenades. A broadcast is playing in four languages over their speakers promising to take anyone prisoner who lays down arms. The ship has been split into quadrants so that the enemy cannot regroup in a centralized location.”

  “Is that all?” Abdullah asked.

  “Not by a long shot,” Jamar said. Another shock reverberated as their massive cannon fired off another shot. Jamar headed for the door leading from the bridge and gestured for Abdullah to follow. “But we don’t have time for the minutiae. You’re expected down at Hangar Four to oversee prisoner transfer.”

  They stepped onto the Command Deck. It was packed, unlike the last time he’d been through. Hundreds of people typed away at terminals. The drone of conversations echoed throughout.

  “Prisoner transfer?” Abdullah asked. “You think they’ll surrender?”

  “They already have,” Jamar replied. “They just might not know it yet.”

  “I need to be there?”

  “You should be there,” Jamar corrected. “It is an ideal place for the men to see you. A good first impression.”

  Abdullah glanced down at his shirt. The armpits and neckline were a darker shade of gray from sweat. “I’m not sure what kind of impression I will make.”

  Jamar opened up his bag. He drew out a gray shirt, folded and pressed. He handed it to Abdullah. “There’s a restroom by the exit. The Nano-fiber material of this uniform is more comfortable than anything I’m sure you’ve ever worn. Still, I’d recommend wiping yourself down first. Just in case.”

  Abdullah accepted the shirt, rubbing it with his thumbs. “You’ve thought of everything.”

  “Always plan for the worst. You’ll never be caught off guard.”

  “Why are you doing this? For me? Wouldn’t it be easier to just let me fail?”

  “Yes,” Jamar said with a chuckle. “It would.”

  Then he disappeared, stepping back into the chaotic crowd around him. Abdullah hesitated for a second and then made his way to the restroom. He stripped his shirt off and threw it in the trashcan. He dried his chest off as best he could and then put the shirt on. It felt smooth on his skin and weighed almost nothing.

  As an afterthought, he folded up a few pieces of toilet paper and put them between his sleeve and armpit.

  He paused to look at himself in the mirror. His skin was paler than normal and his eyes looked slightly glazed. He splashed some water on his face, took a few deep breaths, and exited the restroom.

  4

  The battle, if it could be called one, was over in only a matter of minutes. Kristi ordered for the Gunnery Officer to target the engines as soon as they were in range. After only a few shots the smuggling vessel was disabled.

  Alarms blared all around her. Officers ran from one terminal to the next. People yelled, shouted, and cheered as events progressed in the confrontation. Kristi stood unmoving with her hands folded behind her back, an island of clarity against the raging storm around her.

  She was most pleased by how quickly and efficiently the ship was boarded. Any doubts she had about promoting Abdullah Al Hakir were abolished as the smuggling vessel was overrun and taken. Reports were still coming onto the bridge from the front lines, but she knew the crew casualties from Denigen’s Fist could be counted on two hands.

  She watched her twenty drop ships attach lines to the other ship and haul it closer to Denigen’s Fist. Several smugglers were shot during the engagement, but the soldiers managed to secure the enemy bridge and round up all of the crew.

  That crew numbered almost four thousand. Traitors and thieves all. Men and women who have turned their backs to the First Citizen.

  Normally, after securing the vessel it would be hauled to a nearby planet. Each smuggler would be given a trial. Despite being a Captain of the Republic Fleet, Kristi Grove was not within her rights to judge the smugglers. She could not judge anyone outside of a military court.

  However, there was a problem: the nearest world was Daer.

  An officer handed her a data pad. It listed casualties.

  The alarm system powered down, casting the bridge into silence.

  On Daer, the smugglers would see only a modicum of justice. Of the four thousand, only a handful would be found guilty. And those would be given short prison sentences in lieu of the harsher penalties possible.

  If anything, it would help them gain more friends and ties in the criminal underbelly of Daer. The most corrupt members of society were the ones running it.

  The thought of racketeers and criminals judging smugglers and murderers boiled the Captain’s blood. If she had her way, she’d wipe the establishment clean, fix the corruption at its source. But that was a fight for another day.

  Today was all about the message.

  Thankfully she had an alternative. She could not judge the prisoners for civil crimes, but she could turn them over to the Envoy for justice.

  The Ministerial Envoy had the full backing of the First Citizen and Ministry. In Republic space, an Envoy’s word was law. They could judge any criminal activity and deliver the appropriate punishment in the First Citizen’s name.

  Such action was not common. Normally the Holy Ministry avoided political or economic endeavors. The little priests were taught to dispense with justice only in the worst of situations. They certainly weren’t willing to go above and beyond the call of duty and make examples of criminals, and when criminals were turned over for judgment, they were often forgiven by the Ministry.

  However, turning the criminals over to the Envoy was greatly preferable to turning them over to Daer.

  Plus, she had great confidence in the new Ministerial Envoy aboard her vessel. Abi would make the right decision, Captain Grove knew. She nodded to her First Officer and exited the bridge.

  She strode to a meeting room off of the command deck where her Minister was waiting.

  Animal paintings and crayon drawings decorated the walls.

  A tiara hung from the door handle.

  The room stank of youth.

  Why did I let her keep so many toys?

  Abi was playing with a large stuffed bear when Kristi entered, but she broke into a wide grin and ran to the Captain, throwing a hug around her midsection. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” the little girl repeated. Kristi extricated herself.

  “You like the bear?”

&
nbsp; “I love it.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Argus,” the girl said shyly, grinning ear to ear. “I named him after my daddy.”

  A knowing smile creased the old woman’s lips.

  “That’s very nice of you. Have you been reading the paper I gave you?”

  Abi blushed. “Yes.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Abi.”

  “It’s too hard! I don’t even know what the words mean.”

  “You don’t need to know. You just have to recite it. It has to be perfect, okay Abi?”

  “Okay,” the little girl said sadly. “I promise I’ll practice.”

  “It will be in a few hours, and afterwards, I promise you can play with Argus for as long as you want.”

  That made her happy again. “Thank you!” she said, smiling widely.

  Kristi was smiling as well. One more piece falling into position.

  5

  The next several hours were a blur. Soldiers watched as a procession of prisoners was brought aboard Denigen’s Fist into a hangar bay. Several High Officers congratulated Abdullah, a few going so far as to pat him on the back. His strategy was brilliant, his attention to detail superb. How had he managed it so cleanly after only a few days on the job?

  Abdullah took it all in stride. Or at least, he hoped he did. To be perfectly honest, he was glad he managed to make it through the day without fainting. By the end of it, even the second shirt was covered in sweat and he had sticky little balls of toilet paper covering his skin.

  This was his first taste of leading a warship: simultaneously euphoric and terrifying.

  They had attacked and captured a smuggling ship. Two had been in range, but Kristi was only interested in taking one.

  The escaping ship was a large merchant vessel known as the Screaming Lady, and it was owned by a man named Immanuel Lefelenzo. He wasn’t a smuggler but operated a number of fighting pits and slave rings.

  Too bad he got away.

  Things had calmed since the frantic battle, and now Abdullah wanted nothing more than to collapse onto his cot and fall asleep. He had a dull headache behind his eyes and felt utterly drained.

  But that wasn’t possible. Instead, he returned to the meeting hall where his seven soldiers waited. No one said a word about his absence. He wondered if they’d been here during the entire battle. Probably. They wouldn’t dare disobey an order from their Lieutenant Commander.

  “You are all being reassigned,” he began finally. “To work for me. At ease.”

  The officers relaxed. Eddie was at the end of the line to the left, but his expression was as blank as those of the others. It was as if he was refusing to acknowledge that he knew he Abdullah was.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  “No sir.”

  “Good. There is going to be a lot of information sent to your quarters over the next few days. I expect you to know all of it. Understood?”

  “Yes sir,” they all said.

  “And one last thing,” he said, deciding to keep the meeting short. “I expect you all to be honest with me. Never withhold any information, for any reason. I’ve picked you all because you’re the best at what you do.”

  He looked them over one last time and then waved his hand. “You are all going to report for duty tomorrow at—”

  “Lieutenant Commander,” a voice interrupted over the intercom system. “Your presence is requested by the Captain.”

  Abdullah glanced behind him at the speaker. Again?

  “Now?”

  “Yes, sir. Hangar four.”

  “Not the bridge?” he asked, surprised.

  “No sir,” the voice said. “Hangar four. Captain Grove is expecting you immediately.”

  Abdullah looked back at the soldiers. “Then I better not keep her waiting. You are all dismissed for the day. Report at my office tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred, and we’ll discuss everything. Read every single paper you get. Dismissed.”

  The seven saluted and filed out of the room. Abdullah watched them disappear and then picked up his jacket, folding it over his arm. Will I ever get to sleep again?

  He doubted it. Hangar four? That’s where the prisoners are being held. Kristi must be planning to deliver a speech to the new prisoners.

  And then Captain Grove would drop them off on Daer and be done with it. It was the nearest planet, only half a day away. Dropping off the prisoners would take a week, and it would be tedious. But that would give him time to relax and recover.

  The sad fact was Daer harbored criminals. Captain Schmidt had never taken a smuggling vessel this close to Daer. It was a rookie mistake, the kind that would make Kristi a lot of enemies. They would all be back out in a month, looking for a new ship to work on with a score to settle.

  But she was a new Captain. Prone to making mistakes. She couldn’t have known that Daer would free all of her prisoners.

  And, the more he thought about it, the better it seemed overall. The other officers were impressed with him—even if he had nothing to do with the orders—and the men and women under his charge respected him more now. They knew he could do the job.

  The next time we flag a smuggling ship I’ll be ready.

  6

  Lieutenant Commander Al Hakir made his way through Denigen’s Fist. He passed through one of the gardens. Above him was an enormous glass dome, and beyond that only stars. It was beautiful, one of his favorite places on the ship, and one he hadn’t known about until his promotion.

  He rode the elevator from level twelve to level four. The halls of the Fist were bustling with activity and excitement. He heard a few soldiers mention the prisoners. Already rumors were spreading.

  All of the whispers stopped as he passed, which was disorienting. Most of the men saluted or nodded to him. He was surprised that they recognized him at all. People stared at him with expressions varying from respect to frank amazement. Why you? they seemed to be asking. He wished he knew.

  “Lieutenant Commander,” a voice called as he stepped off the elevator.

  He glanced around and saw Jamar waiting. The man had a data pad clutched in his pudgy hand. He wore an easy smile on his face as Abdullah approached.

  “Yes?” Abdullah asked.

  “I am to inform you that the Captain will be running a few moments late. She asked for you to check on the Minister’s Envoy and see that she is prepared.”

  “She?” Abdullah blurted before catching himself. Jamar smiled wryly and narrowed his eyes.

  “Yes. She is in the conference hall to your left. Currently, she is preparing her speech.”

  “The Envoy is making a speech?” he asked.

  Suddenly, it clicked.

  “We’re turning the prisoners over to the Ministry,” he said.

  Jamar nodded and then said professionally, “It has been decided that the Minister shall decide the fate of our six thousand captured smugglers. May the Lord light the heathen’s path, yadda yadda. Have you any further questions?”

  Abdullah shook his head. “I will check on her.”

  Jamar smiled knowingly. “I believe you are already acquainted.”

  “Huh?” Abdullah said. “I don’t think I’ve met any new Ministers.”

  “It has been a whirlwind of days. You might not remember. Just please make sure she leaves her dolls behind.”

  Luckily, Jamar walked away without waiting for a response from the new Lieutenant Commander. He never noticed the horrified expression on Abdullah’s face.

  7

  “Daer is the closest planet,” Ben said, rubbing his chin and yawning. “And my cousin works at the district office there.”

  “For all the good that does you,” Ike Oreman said, his voice bitter.

  “You kidding? I’ll spend a few hours in prison. At most. With this many people all dropped off together, they’ll cut most of us loose as soon as this old Junker leaves orbit. Denigen’s Fist. What kind of name is that? Who the hell was Denigen?”

  “You think th
ey’ll let us go?” Ike asked hopefully.

  “I know they will,” Ben said. He was in his late thirties. Ike was only seventeen, so he didn’t know the ropes yet. Ben had been captured five times like this if you believed his stories. “Why do you think we fly so close to Daer? Our boss knows what to do. Most of the time they don’t even mess with us. They know the score.”

  “But they trashed our ship.”

  “It happens,” Ben replied with a shrug. “A few people will go to jail. As an example. Truth be told, it does us a favor: cleaning out the trash. But everyone else, they’ll just let go. Ain’t worth the hassle.”

  “Will they let me go?”

  “This is your first time in trouble. No rap sheet. I’m sure they will. Just be polite. And tell your lawyer you have a sick family. He’ll take care of the rest. We’ll both be free in a couple of weeks. Then we can sign on to another ship. Something smaller, so we get a bigger share of the profits. Most of ‘em are looking for new blood.”

  Ike was silent, looking over the amassed bodies around them. There was barely enough room to move his arms. At least, he wasn’t claustrophobic.

  Though he was cramped and miserable. The air smelled of sweat and body odor. The atmosphere was tense.

  But not as tense as he would have expected. Most people seemed to share Ben’s optimism. Soon they would be dropped off on Daer, and not long after they would be free. This was just a hitch in the process. The owners would lose profits, sure, but that was their problem. The people here, in this hangar, they were the small fish.

  It seemed like a waste.

  “Why would they attack us?”

  “Huh?” Ben asked, cocking his head sideways. He had a bum ear and could only hear from the right.

  “Why did they shoot us down in the first place? What was the point?”

  Ben shrugged. “No idea. Heard it’s a new Captain, so maybe that’s it. Brown nosing, probably, or just plain dumb.” Ben hacked into his sleeve and wiped his mouth. “If the Captain keeps doing dumb stuff, she’ll end up dead. If she figures it out, though…well, there’s money to be made.”

  Someone bumped into Ike. “I just want off this ship.”

  “Me too, kid,” Ike said. “Me too. But don’t worry, it won’t be long. The Captain’s going to come out, give a speech, and then we’ll be on our way. Ever been to Daer? It’s one hell of a place.”