by Eric Thomson
“Right. Thank you, Captain.” Custis turned his gaze back on Zahar. “And you think this Ostrow is the man to defend Parth against barbarian incursions? Surely you can name another to take his place, someone who won’t let the ragtag survivors of a loyalist battle group bamboozle him.”
“In fairness, sir, Morane took his ships through what Ostrow discovered was a rogue wormhole. We’re fortunate his command made it back to Parth unharmed. I would have relieved him if he’d continued the pursuit through an unstable part of the network beyond the empire’s frontiers. As I may have mentioned, our ships are well-nigh irreplaceable these days. Could I ask why you’re concerned about a prison transport carrying nobles Dendera couldn’t execute out of hand?”
“Yes, but in private.”
Custis nodded at the officers standing behind Zahar.
The admiral glanced over his shoulder.
“Please wait outside.”
Once he and Zahar were alone, Custis said, “I found out shortly before going into stasis that Dendera’s unloved sister Corinne was traveling with me in one of the prisoner pods under a secret identity. Had the prison ship’s crew not sabotaged its antimatter fuel system, I would have brought Tanith with me to Yotai, and we would be decanting each stasis pod right now until we found Corinne.”
“Why the interest in a Ruggero whelp, Your Grace? I thought you wished to make yourself regent of the Coalsack and use it as a springboard to reunite the empire under your rule.”
A cold smile played on Custis’ lips.
“Just because Dendera’s madness is breaking the empire apart doesn’t make her dynasty illegitimate in the eyes of many, perhaps even most of her common citizens. I intend to rule, yes, but with a legitimate monarch as a constitutional figurehead, and that means someone whose name is on the succession list, such as Corinne.” The smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Which means we need to find her.”
“That may well be impossible, sir.” When Custis opened his mouth, Zahar raised a conciliatory hand. “Nevertheless, I will order my intelligence people look for the prison ship or the ships that took it out of the Parth system — without mentioning Corinne’s name. I have a fairly extensive web of operatives covering the Coalsack and beyond, but the wormhole network is vast.”
Zahar paused as if digging up a distant memory.
“There might be another option if we cannot find Corinne.”
Custis’ dark eyebrows crept up a few millimeters.
“Oh?”
“I’m sure Your Grace is familiar with the name Marta Norum, the Marquess of Cascadia’s daughter. Though she’s not a Ruggero like Corinne, Norum might be equally suitable for your purposes. I understand she’s a direct descendant of Kal IV, Stichus Ruggero’s predecessor, and thus not tainted by Ruggero blood. Granted, during Kal’s day, the crown didn’t pass down familial lines, but his name might suit those of who prefer to shake off the Ruggero dynasty. Norum was married to Hachim LeGris, the late governor general of Mykonos, another loyalist. LeGris kept his support for Dendera hidden until he made the mistake of confiding in his senior aide, an Imperial Guards colonel by the name Jorge Danton.”
“I’m indeed familiar with Marta Norum. In fact, I met her long ago, well before Dendera’s psychopathic tendencies surfaced. And this Danton — one of yours?”
Zahar dipped his head once.
“Pledged to me, yes, and no sycophant of the imperial court. I met Danton before the first star system rebelled and discovered his disaffection with the old order. Dendera’s hand-picked generals declared Jorge unfit for promotion beyond colonel and sent him to serve as an aide to a provincial governor general with little by way of a family pedigree other than through his spouse. Since the Imperial Guards declined to make him a general officer, he did me a favor and gave himself a political promotion.”
“His conditioning failed?” Astonishment tinged Custis’ voice.
“So it seems. Or perhaps it never took. Not all minds can be bent to serve the empress with unquestioning fanaticism.”
A frown creased Custis’ forehead.
“Interesting. I’d heard rumors about officers feigning to be conditioned, but never met one. And now this Danton, a former Guards colonel, rules over Mykonos in my name? How amazing.”
“Yes, though he didn’t seize power without shedding a lot of blood, naturally. Parts of Mykonos, especially around the capital, were devastated. But he convinced the star system’s two Imperial Guards regiments they’d be better off on our side once they suffered one too many defeats at the hands of Marine Corps and Mykonos militia units pledged to the rebellion.”
“Just as you did here, Admiral. Nicely done, by the way.”
Zahar bowed his head in acknowledgment.
“Thank you, sir. But the task wasn’t particularly difficult. It merely required removing every loyal senior officer via assassination, which is what Danton did as well. With most of the system’s military forces in hand, Danton assumed control, purged the government, destroyed the Order of the Void on Mykonos, and stomped out any signs of loyalty to Dendera. Jorge ordered Hachim LeGris’ execution by beheading after trying him before a summary court-martial. But LeGris’ widow and children escaped.”
“Then please send word to our new governor general on Mykonos telling him I want Marta Norum found, detained, and sent to Yotai forthwith. Unharmed, it goes without saying. Should anything happen to her at the hands of Danton’s troops, I will hold him personally responsible.” Custis’ smile returned. “Well done, Admiral. If Corinne remains among the vanished and we can find no one with a greater claim, Marta Norum will be my constitutional figurehead, the one around whom I will reunite the empire.”
Zahar indicated the closed door.
“May I recall my aide and give the order, Your Grace?”
“Yes, but no mention of why I’m interested in Norum.”
While Zahar obeyed, Custis turned back to the holographic projection of his truncated realm, wondering how soon he should announce it as the legitimate heir to the old empire and declare himself regent instead of viceroy. A green-tinged system well away from the others under his control attracted his attention.
It seemed almost submerged in a sea of purple and red-rimmed stars, those abandoned by the 16th Fleet or known to be under barbarian control. He quickly counted the wormhole connections from Micarat and grunted. Five transits away. Too far for subspace radio in the absence of relays — Zahar had ordered them removed when his units withdrew — and up to a week’s travel in the fastest aviso.
“What’s this?” He asked when Zahar rejoined him.
The admiral squinted at the projection, then stuck his finger into it and touched the unnamed star. Almost at once, a wall of text appeared to their left.
“Lyonesse.” Custis grunted. “Never heard of it.”
“A self-governing crown colony, sir. The last large imperial unit stationed there, the 77th Marine Regiment, withdrew almost ten years ago, leaving nothing more than a minor supply depot with a skeleton crew. Lyonesse is effectively a wormhole network dead end with its sole exit at Arietis and sits in an isolated area of the galactic arm not easily reachable from inhabited star systems via hyperspace. Evidently, Fleet HQ did not believe a permanent naval presence was necessary.”
“But since we don’t hold Arietis anymore, shouldn’t Lyonesse at least be marked in purple to show it slipped into the badlands and is no longer under Coalsack Sector control?”
“Indeed, Your Grace. It’s probably nothing more than carelessness by the operations staff. Lyonesse rarely came to our attention before the rebellion, and nowadays?” Zahar shrugged. “It has no strategic, economic, or military importance whatsoever.”
“Who governs it?”
Zahar peered at the text again.
“The Honorable Elenia Yakin, daughter of Baron Hengist Yakin.”
Custis nodded knowingly.
“No fans of Dendera, the Yaki
ns. Now you’ve jogged my memory, I believe Elenia’s appointment as governor of Lyonesse was at her husband’s behest, so he could work his way up to general in the Imperial Guards by bedding Dendera’s favorites at court.”
“Sounds like a charming fellow.” Zahar’s tone dripped with acid.
“I suspect Elenia got the better part of the bargain. One night in the wrong arms will undo years of pleasing bored noblewomen eager to reward attention with patronage. It wouldn’t surprise me if he already met an unpleasant end. The court was rather unsettled by the time Dendera cleaned house and packed her closest advisers off to Parth for a few years of suffering before a nasty death.”
Zahar grimaced.
“And yet she’s stuck in a system which no longer enjoys our protection. I’m not sure her fate will be any better than that of the cad she married.”
Custis took another look at the green-rimmed star representing Lyonesse, lost among a sea of red and purple.
“Perhaps.”
The admiral waved his fingers at unseen controls, and Lyonesse lost its comforting glow, taking on the same menacing hue as every other star between it and Micarat.
“I’m sure Your Grace will not object to my declaring Governor Yakin’s domain beyond our sphere of responsibility.”
A sigh.
“No. I suppose it’s inevitable.”
“And no great loss.”
— 3 —
Lyonesse
Captain Jonas Morane, commanding officer of the former imperial cruiser Vanquish, and acting commodore of the 197th Battle Group’s remains fell silent, drained by the effort of speaking to an audience that seemed carved from stone.
A thickset, middle-aged man with a stubborn cast to his square features and a skeptical gleam in his eyes stood. He let his impassive gaze roam over the principal members of the Lyonesse Estates General surrounding the table before glancing at the other audience members seated behind Governor Elenia Yakin.
“I’m Anton Kell, president of the Lyonesse Workers’ Cooperative.” Kell’s voice was rough, his tone challenging. “With all due respect, Captain, what proves to us you’re not just a bunch of deserters from the imperial services looking to leech off hard-working people while hiding from justice in one of the empire’s remotest star systems? Those recordings of Coraline, Palmyra, Arietis, and Lorien could easily be fakes.”
He gestured at Gwenneth.
“It’s well known that her kind are master manipulators. And those reivers who conveniently attacked just as you arrived could have been mercenaries in your service.”
Morane knew questions of the sort would eventually come up. A few nodded in agreement, if not with Kell’s words then with the sentiments behind them.
“You are free to analyze our recordings in any manner you wish. I can give you copies of the raw feeds if you want. We brought survivors of the Palmyra massacre with us. They can tell you about the attack, and I’m sure Chief Administrator Logran will arrange interviews through the crèche authorities.
“I know Colonel DeCarde would be pleased to let you speak with members of her unit about what they experienced on Coraline and Palmyra, just as I am willing to let you speak with members of my ships’ crews. As for the growing civil war inside the empire, Her Excellency can attest to hearing about it from several sources well before our arrival.”
He glanced at Yakin, who nodded.
“And of course you witnessed the reivers’ attempt to raid Lyonesse, proof the Imperial Navy no longer controls the Arietis wormhole junction which guards the Lyonesse cul-de-sac.”
Kell shrugged dismissively.
“Raids happen. We may be at the bottom of a triple transit dead end, but this is still the imperial frontier. I don’t think it’s enough evidence if you’re asking the citizens of this colony to pay for your bizarre project and your salaries while you defend us from minor threats well within our militia’s ability. We already see enough wealth squandered by stupid decisions made in the name of a so-called higher purpose when it could be used to improve our society through new programs.”
“Why is my project bizarre, Mister Kell?” Morane asked in a mild, almost friendly tone. “Civilizational collapse is a recurring feature of human history since the dawn of time. We have the chance to preserve several thousand years of knowledge against the day humanity loses interstellar travel and becomes a fragmented scattering across this arm of the galaxy, unable to even remember its origins. And at relatively little cost, other than maintaining the ability to defend this world against forces who would pillage it and ruin everything you’ve worked for and everything we can still build. Make no mistake. The recent raid may have seemed small, but it was only the first of many. Once word of a star system untouched by civil war spreads, the barbarians will return, and in greater numbers.”
A tall, slender woman in her fifties stood, cutting off Kell’s reply. She wore her dark red hair in a short bob framing elfin features dominated by large dark eyes.
“Captain Morane has a point, Anton.” Her clear orator’s alto filled the large space, commanding everyone’s attention. “Our existence as a civilized society isn’t always about how much money we can throw at new entitlements to keep your members happy. If we slide down the technological ladder, as so many civilizations have done before us, be it through neglect or thanks to the depredations of savages from beyond the empire’s borders, those entitlements won’t matter a damn. Hunter-gatherer societies can’t afford work-related benefits, let alone pensions, since that sort of lifestyle is nasty, brutish, and short, to quote Thomas Hobbes.”
A smattering of subdued applause greeted her words. She turned to face Morane.
“I’m Emma Reyes, Chancellor of Lyonesse University, Captain. And as my friend Anton will tell you, I rarely hesitate to speak my mind, which has cost me more than one appointment during my career.”
“A pleasure.” He paused. “I think.”
His quip earned him a few smiles, including an ironic one from Reyes.
“Likewise. One of my degrees is in history, Captain, so I can well believe humanity is ripe for another tumble, a big one. The more advanced a civilization, the harder it falls and the longer it needs to recover. I’ve been monitoring political trends for quite some time and noticed the same developments you did. Even if the empire isn’t royally screwed, many people will die, and we will lose a lot of colonies. There’s no getting around that fact. The best-case scenario is a truncated empire surviving in the Wyvern Sector, one too weak for anything more than keeping barbarians at bay. That doesn’t help us. If we’re not yet deep inside the lawless badlands, it’s only a matter of time.”
She gave the assembly a cold, hard stare, daring anyone to dispute her words.
“I’m chagrined I didn’t think of something as elegant and fundamentally vital as Captain Morane’s human knowledge vault. Challenge him on the details if you must argue, even on cost, but the idea is sound, and using the Order of the Void as part of an effort to preserve what we, as a species, have learned is equally elegant. Monastics of every faith have historically kept the spark of civilization alive in times of darkness. Why not use them once more?”
A louder round of applause greeted her impassioned declaration.
“If expenditures concern you,” Morane said once the room quieted, “then consider this. My three ships face a limited lifespan. We’ll keep them operational until we run out of parts. After that, I’ll find a way to preserve them somewhere sheltered on one of the moons. The only cost to Lyonesse will be feeding and paying the crews. And once my ships are no more, the government can decide how much to invest in keeping a space worthy naval force, be it sublight or FTL.
“Colonel DeCarde’s troopers will entail similar expenditures, plus keeping them equipped. Since Lyonesse already funds a colonial militia, it would make sense to merge the two and create a single full and part-time ground defense force, something neither Lorien nor Palmyra could field ag
ainst barbarian raiders.”
Morane glanced at Major Kayne as he spoke, but the former Marine sergeant’s face remained expressionless. However, many in the room seemed to approve of his words, not least Emma Reyes.
“Or we could dispense with defense forces,” the latter said in a conversational tone, “and either cut taxes or increase social spending, which would please many here. Although it’ll do everyone a fat lot of good once reivers pour through our gates, and they will.”
Reyes gave Kell a scornful glance.
“As Captain Morane pointed out, the godless bastards can choose to come the long way via hyperspace hoping to find low-hanging fruit or wait until the Arietis wormhole junction falls under their control and pour into our branch. No matter how they do it, without the ability to fight back, money won’t mean a damned thing; enhanced early retirement benefits won’t matter, and reduced work hours won’t improve your lives. Nothing will.”
Hecht chuckled.
“That’s our esteemed chancellor. Eloquent to a fault.”
“And what’s your opinion, Speaker?” A man in the audience asked.
“I spent my life as a businessman before entering public service so I could give back to the community that made me successful.” A few amused snorts greeted the declaration. He smiled back with false bonhomie. “And I’ve always believed in insurance. Captain Morane is offering just that, and at a price Lyonesse can afford. Granted, the devil is always in the details, but we can agree on basic principles.”
Though still smiling, Hecht gave Morane a hard glance, letting him know that his support would come at a price, or at least with conditions.
Morane remained standing and let his eyes roam over the attendees again. But this time, he saw little, if any hostility, though he noticed plenty of worried faces. Some even returned his gaze with frank curiosity.
When no one else stood to question Morane, Governor Yakin asked, “Nothing else? In that case, I believe we can adjourn the Estates General. If anything arises, please contact my secretary. He’ll make sure the matter is passed to the right person.”
