Modulus Echo

by Toby Neighbors

  “That isn’t the case, I assure you,” Pershing said.

  “Show him the surveillance footage,” Ben said. “Then he can meet the queen. I’ve already sent your offer back with one of his associates. The leaders of the Confederacy will know what you’re offering. And Holt can vouch for our claims.”

  Pershing nodded. She knew that Ben was only trying to help, but she didn’t like having someone else making offers. Showing the footage from the surveillance buoy was something she always planned to do, but she needed to stay in control of the situation.

  “If you will follow me,” Pershing said, keeping her emotions in check. “I’m sure Ben has work to do before we leave.”

  “Magnum is on his way with the parts we need right now,” Ben agreed.

  “Very good,” Pershing said. “Holt and I don’t need a chaperone. We shall message you if and when you’re needed.”

  Ben nodded. If he was insulted, he made no outward sign of it. She appreciated that, even if it resulted from him being too naive to know she was putting him in his place.

  Pershing led the way to the crew lounge. Kim and Nance watched from the bridge but didn’t say anything. Professor Jones was waiting in the lounge. He stood up when the general entered.

  “We took care of you, and this is how you repay us?” Holt accused the professor.

  “What?” Jones asked.

  “Let’s keep our composure,” Pershing said. “Professor Jones is working with the Imperium, not for us. And he hasn’t turned over any of his research. He’s shown me, but I’m not a scientist. I thought his word would carry some weight with you and that he might be needed to explain what happened in the Celeste system.”

  “Oh, I already know,” Holt said with a smirk. “Your arrogance finally caught up with you. I knew it would happen eventually.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Pershing said, her voice shaking slightly with rage that she tried to keep hidden.

  Didn’t the fool know that she could kill him with her bare hands in less than a minute? Yet he felt no qualms about antagonizing her. It was the root of the rebel problem. There was a lack of respect for what the Imperium had accomplished. It wasn’t merely a military victory, although that had been complete. It was forming a coalition government that worked for the good of all the inhabited worlds of the galaxy—no mean feat. But like all governments, there were dissenters in the Imperium. Some felt the system was corrupt, and Pershing could admit there were problems, especially in the military, where political appointees put unfit officers in charge of ships and armadas. Yet there was good to be gained from the collective. A splintered galaxy with rival systems competing against one another and engaging in unchecked warfare was a threat to everyone. The Royal Imperium wasn’t perfect, but it had brought stability and created economic parity that was unmatched in the history of the human race.

  “Show him the footage,” Pershing said.

  She stepped back, giving herself some space. She needed a buffer between them so that she didn’t react to his disrespect with an edge hand blow to his throat that would crush his windpipe.

  “This was taken after the wormhole was opened,” Professor Jones explained, starting the video. “The general’s ship went through and was immediately set upon by this hostile race.”

  The screen showed the alien ship capturing the transport that had been attempting to get the royal family to safety.

  “As you can see, their technology is nothing like our own,” Jones said. “The general’s ship went through the wormhole first, and we followed. There wasn’t time to get enough data to prove that the tunnel is to another galaxy, but the presence of the alien life-forms seems proof enough.”

  “It looks like it’s capturing the wreckage,” Holt said.

  “That is precisely what it is doing,” Pershing said. “They appear to be scavengers.”

  “Seems wasteful,” Holt said. “Are you sure it isn’t Imperium tech gone wrong?”

  “There’s no need for your disrespect,” Pershing said, unable to hold herself back. “You are a guest on this ship.”

  “This ship would have never left Torrent Four if not for me,” Holt snapped at her. “You want to talk about disrespect? Your offer is dripping with it. You want to use us to fight this supposed threat? I thought that was what the mighty Royal Imperium Fleet was built for. Why the hell do you need our help?”

  “Two reasons,” Pershing said coldly. “First, your professor built the device that opened the wormhole. You aided and abetted the most heinous act of terrorism in the history of our species.”

  “That’s stretching it,” Holt sneered.

  “Is it? Over half the Fleet was destroyed by the device that opened the wormhole,” Pershing stated. “Hundreds of thousands of innocent people died. Would you like to try and tally the books?”

  “You think I give a damn about your precious military losses? For every soldier you lost, we’ve lost dozens, maybe even hundreds.”

  “That is an exaggeration,” Pershing said. “In all the Fleet engagements we’ve undertaken, in orbit or on rebel worlds, we’ve never killed that many.”

  “You don’t have to kill us with your guns and knives,” Holt said. “You kill us with poverty, with oppressive taxation and lack of representation. You murder us with trade restrictions and laws that benefit the royal treasury, not the people. So don’t talk to me about who’s lost more. There’s no comparison on that score.”

  “Wait, wait,” Jones said. “You are both right and you are both wrong. But fighting one another won’t save us from this threat.”

  He poked a finger at the screen, where the alien ship was ripping apart another ship that was trying to get out of the system.

  “They are the enemy,” the professor exclaimed.

  “He’s right,” Pershing said, regaining her composure.

  “How am I supposed to believe this?” Holt declared. “Anyone can forge video footage, especially on a two-dimensional screen.”

  “Does the word of your own people not convince you?” Pershing asked.

  “The crew of this tub aren’t my people,” Holt said. “And you’ve obviously won over Professor Jones.”

  “Then send a ship to the Celeste system to see for yourself,” Pershing said. “The wormhole is real, as are the alien ships. As you can see, more have come through the portal. We stopped one who followed us out of the system, but there are at least ten more. And they’re descending on the surface of Gershwin, which is the second reason we need your help. We need seasoned veterans who can fight on the ground. Our Spec Ops division is mostly intact, but we don’t have the troops on hand to retake the planet if they dig in.”

  “Yeah, boots on the ground was always your weakest link.”

  “We could bombard the planet from orbit, once we regain control of the system, but it would damage a pristine world. Help us get the aliens out of our galaxy and your people will have a clean slate.”

  “Plus,” Jones added, “leverage to create real and lasting change. If helping people is what the Confederacy is really about, this is the chance you’ve been working for.”

  Holt didn’t reply immediately. It appeared that he was actually considering the offer.

  “Please,” General Pershing forced herself to say. “We must act before they bring more ships through the wormhole.”

  Before he could reply, the door to the lounge opened and a group of people entered. Staff Sergeant Visher and half his team of commandos escorted the queen and Duke Simeon into the room, which suddenly felt crowded. Pershing looked at Holt, whose face had suddenly gone stiff. She could see the hatred in his eyes as he looked at the queen.

  “I am Quee—”

  “I know who you are,” he said through clenched teeth.

  The commandos all tensed, and Pershing feared they might open fire on the hostile rebel. She held up a hand.

  “Holt is our guest,” she said. “Let’s all try to be civil.”

  “Kind of hard to
do to a tyrant who poisons worlds,” Holt said.

  “I have done no such thing,” the queen said coldly.

  “Tell that to the people of Mersa Prime,” Holt said. “We have proof that you’re using drones to disperse gas in their atmosphere to make the citizens more docile.”

  “That is outrageous,” the queen said, her anger rising to a boil. “Who do you think you are?”

  “I’m a free man who will never bow his knee to the likes of you,” Holt said with a sneer. “Get me off this ship. I wouldn’t help you if it cost me everything and everyone I hold dear.”

  “You’re a vile, bitter man who is blinded by your hate,” the queen said.

  “Wait a second,” Simeon said. “Perhaps it’s better if the queen leaves.”

  She whirled on him but the Duke wasn’t finished.

  “Your purpose was to assure the Confederates that we will keep our word,” Duke Simeon said. “And since I am the heir apparent, I will give my word.”

  The queen was trembling. Her pale skin turned red, and she stormed out of the crew lounge without saying a word. Visher and two of his men followed her. Two commandos stayed with the duke, who actually extended his hand.

  “I know things haven’t been right for a long time,” Simeon said. “But we can change that. I’m not like my uncle. Help us take back the Celeste system and I guarantee you not only amnesty, but if independence is what you want, that is what you will have.”

  Holt looked angry and obviously didn’t believe the duke. But Pershing knew he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that the king’s own nephew was promising to give the Confederacy what they wanted.

  “All we’re asking for is help,” she added.

  Holt looked at her, then sighed as he shook the duke’s hand.

  Chapter 46

  Grubat stood by while his son studied the information they had pulled from the Nav Net. Their prisoner, the crown prince of the Royal Imperium, sat huddled on the ground nearby. He was a sniveling, pathetic individual, but he had kept his word and given Grubat access to the network that all his kind navigate through the entire galaxy.

  Lists of planets, space stations, and settlements on worlds being terraformed scrolled by. There were thousands of targets, Grubat thought. Even if the Krah Empire left only a token force in their native galaxy, it would take them a century to lay claim to all the worlds and settlements made by the humans.

  After making sure his translator was disabled, Grubat spoke to his son.

  “This is more than we could have dreamed.”

  Yarl Cherbak stood up straight, the bones in his spine popping as the nodules that ran down his back flexed. He was a powerfully built Krah, but he had yet to win the glory that would afford him the enhancements to be a true threat. Not that Grubat feared his offspring. Cherbak sought only to please his esteemed father, and he was one of the only Krah that Grubat trusted.

  “Such riches,” Yarl Cherbak said. “Who could have imagined it?”

  “I always believed,” Grubat lied. “The priests foretold this day. I just never thought that I would be here, leading the charge.”

  “It is a great honor,” Cherbak said. “I only wish we could read the data.”

  “In time, my son. Our workers will decipher the human symbols. They appear to be well versed in terraforming worlds. It’s impossible to believe that they could inhabit so many.”

  “Perhaps they are slave worlds,” Cherbak suggested.

  “If Godfred is telling us the truth, their species has never encountered another intelligent race. Theirs is the only life-form to contend with. They fight among themselves, but have never encountered a race capable of fighting back.”

  “That would explain their abundance,” Cherbak said.

  “They are merely preparing their galaxy for our rule,” Grubat said. He turned to a trooper who was standing watch over the command station being assembled in an open expanse of ground. “Go and fetch Yarl Hassik. He will not believe what we have discovered.”

  “My lord,” the trooper said, bowing formally before hurrying off.

  “He has aims to replace you, Father,” Cherbak said.

  “I know,” Grubat replied. “But he is the most capable of all my Yarls. When he challenges me, we will lose a portion of our strength. I shall replace my left arm in honor of his courage and ambition.”

  “Perhaps you should send him back,” Cherbak said. “He has much support among the Yarls.”

  “It is warranted,” Grubat said. “But he is still no match for my strength.”

  “So send him to the warlords. They must know of our discovery. Perhaps then they will find their courage and follow us through the portal.”

  “Do not dishonor our name by casting vile insults. I will be a warlord soon, as will you, in time. But if it will set you at ease, I will give Yarl Hassik this task. He cannot complain about taking such news to the greatest among us.”

  Grubat looked around the clearing. Everything was coming together just as he envisioned it. The workers would craft a shrine to his greatness right where he stood. He would spend the next century growing fat on the riches of his enemies while drinking in the luxuriously decadent air of his new home.

  The Nog’Deit smelled like a waste site in comparison. As soon as the shrine was complete, Grubat planned to have the ship taken apart piece by piece. He would build the first Krah city, a great capital for their people. It would mark his accomplishments and enshrine him forever as the greatest of the Krah. They would call him Grubat, the Home Giver. He felt a shudder of pleasure at the very thought of his status once the other warlords arrived. They could no longer deny him. He had paved the way to their future, and once they saw riches ripe for the taking, they would not care whether he surpassed them. As long as they got fat from the plunder of their Thralldoms.

  “My lord,” the trooper returned in a rush. He looked frightened.

  Grubat’s tendrils began to wave around his head, sensing everything around him. There was danger, Grubat knew that, but he could not discern which quarter it was coming from.

  “Speak!” Grubat ordered as the trooper bowed low before him.

  “It is Yarl Hassik, my lord,” the trooper said. “He has gone back up to the En’Galla.”

  Grubat heard his son growl, but he knew there was more to the story. He held up a hand to calm his son and nodded to the trooper.

  “What else?”

  “Yarl Hassik has ordered the other shipmasters into battle.”

  “Are they following him?” Grubat asked, realizing his mistake at once.

  He had spent too much time on the planet. It was the greatest prize in the history of his people. A verdant planet, pristine and virtually uninhabited. Yet his focus had slipped from the hungry warriors who had rallied to his cause, to the prospect of immortality as the founder of the new Krah home world. It was a heady vision of the future, to be sure, but his attention was needed among his Yarls.

  “Yes, my lord,” the trooper said in a quaking voice.

  Rage was like a fire inside Grubat. He was too close to the flames, but it was too late to move away. His transmitting tendril stiffened.

  “This is Chieftain Grubat,” he snarled. “Who remains on the bridge?”

  The answer was only silence. Yarl Hassik had not slunk away like the coward he was. He had mutinied, taking the other Yarls with him.

  “Cherbak, we are betrayed,” Grubat said. “Find them on the radar. We must know where they are going.”

  “They have moved the ships out of orbit, Father, leaving only the Trom’Mal. The En’Galla leads nine ships headed for his system.”

  Cherbak pointed at the list. It was impossible to read the words, but he had someone who could.

  “Godfred,” Grubat said loudly after activating his translator. The fat human got to his feet, looking frightened. “What is this place?”

  The crown prince moved close to the display. Cherbak pointed at the name of the system, and Godfred turned to answer
Grubat.

  “That is the Yelsin system. It’s the closest star to Celeste.”

  Grubat growled angrily. He stepped over to the communication transmitter. It was clear that Hassik had not only stolen a ship and turned the Thralldom against him, but he had access to the navigation network as well. Hassik couldn’t read the information, but their own computer systems could make use of the telemetry data.

  “Yarl Hassik, you overstep your bounds,” Grubat said into the communication device.

  For a second, the only reply was static. Then Yarl Hassik spoke.

  “You have lost sight of your Thralldom and turned your back on your responsibilities, Grubat.”

  The chieftain roared at the insult. Yarl Hassik spoke to Grubat as if they were already equals.

  “You are a coward,” Grubat said. “Nothing but a common thief.”

  “And you are a pathetic old man,” Hassik replied. “Why challenge you, when I can take your greatest possession from you before you even knew it was gone?”

  The Yarl chuckled. It was a weak argument in Grubat’s opinion. But there would be no way to catch up with his former Yarl. Instead, he cursed himself and shut off the communication transmitter.

  “You must go to the warlords,” Grubat told his son.

  “If they come through the portal, will they not see you weak and unfit?”

  “No,” Grubat said. “We will tell them that I ordered the attack. When Yarl Hassik returns, boasting of his greatness, we shall face each other. I will take back what is mine and decorate my new shrine with his skull. It will serve as a reminder to me to stay focused on what is truly important.”

  “As you wish, Father,” Yarl Cherbak said, bowing low before him.

  It seemed like Grubat didn’t deserve the honor his son paid him. Yarl Hassik had been right. Grubat had lost sight of what was happening right under his tendrils. But that oversight could be corrected. As Cherbak hurried away to carry out his father’s orders, Grubat turned to Godfred.

  “What is in this Yelsin system?”