Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Turmoil Read online

  Elco felt relieved to be dealing with the general on this matter; aside from his meetings with Governor Broadbent, he'd had few meetings with the council that administered the planet, and they seemed fully confident to let General Horle deal with the matter of defensive options and evacuation. Elco knew that would never fly back in the Confederation, where the politicians tended to micromanage and second-guess every decision into ineffectiveness. He knew he was feeling bitter about it, but the war had shown him the way a bureaucracy could defile the most pure intentions. "So now we have to see about getting the Primans to leave you alone for a couple months until everyone that wants to leave gets gone."

  "I'll draft a message to the Primans to that effect," said General Horle in a deadpan tone, a fatalistic look on his face. His jaw was set in a position that Elco had come to realize meant the man was considering unpleasant thoughts, of which there were surely plenty of right now. "You know we've arranged our destroyers in a submissive formation above the northern pole, correct?"

  Elco only nodded somberly.

  "I suppose the Council is hoping that if the Primans see we're ready to hand over control they'll take it easy on us."

  "And also that if they decide to shoot first and ask questions much, much later, you'll have us close enough to call on as a last resort," Elco confirmed.

  "It sounds fairly sad when you say it like that," Horle admitted. "But I guess that's the gist of it. I know you can't stay forever, but as I said, every load of transports that leaves Lemuria is a weight off my shoulders. In fact, just as we left the press conference I received a message that the transports had returned and were landing at their pickup points for another round."

  "Well," Elco continued, "we have a week or so left before we're supposed to return, so you can run three evac missions if I've done the math right."

  Cory looked over her Intruders as they held a tight formation while rounding their latest waypoint. They'd designed a route that would take them back and forth along a path that would keep them clear of large gravity wells and allow them to microjump in towards Lemuria. As they pointed out-system on their flight paths, they were able to point their recently upgraded sensors out into the dark night of space in the hopes of catching a whiff of Priman forces should they arrive. She'd also noticed with interest the arrival of a wave of Stalwart class transports that were surface-bound.

  She chafed at her ROE, however. The Rules of Engagement demanded that they be ready to fight but were not allowed to engage unless requested to do so by the Lemurians. She thought it was ridiculous that they still believed they could appease or cooperate with the Primans, especially considering the weight of their actions against the humanoid systems they'd passed through on their way through this part of the galaxy. Still, for an isolated system like theirs, she supposed they figured they were humped if they fought back.

  Her six Intruders carried warshots, live and upgraded Quick Strike light torpedoes. The new armor-piercing rounds for their autocannons were said to penetrate farther through Priman armor as well, and she craved the opportunity to verify that claim. She settled back in her ejection seat and adjusted her harness where it was starting to bite into her left shoulder a bit. She had another two hours on station before the other six Intruders of her squadron would arrive to relieve her flight; they hadn't even scrambled any Talon fighters yet due to their lesser endurance than the big attack birds. She flexed her gloves, covered in a synthetic leather to emulate the flight suits of old atmospheric fighters of eons past, and imagined pulling the trigger on the flight stick to send another Priman on their way to see what their afterlife was really all about.

  Captain Elco stood by the Freedom class transport on the tarmac as the ship's engines slowly spooled to life. It was a crisp, clear evening, the kind of weather Elco savored. The skies were clear and the stars shone bright, the temperature had dropped just enough that a light jacket was in order, and for such a big military base it was surprisingly quiet.

  The base, just on the outskirts of the capitol, was the operations center for the Lemurian planetary defense network and as such Elco and General Horle had ended their evening with a brief tour of the facility to see what was in orbit. Satisfied that the skies were clear, they'd decided to call it a night and were now standing in front of the transport that would take Elco back to Avenger.

  "Once again, Captain," Horle said as he extended his hand for Elco to shake, "thank you for your time here."

  Elco shook the proffered hand. "Maybe you could arrange to get us invited back some time when this whole pesky Priman infestation is sorted out," he replied. "Those hills outside of town are begging for me to do some camping there."

  "Hah," Horle chuckled. "I've done the same. Perhaps someday we can burn up some fallen trees and tell tall tales around the campfire of the heroics we've done."

  "Deal," Elco replied enthusiastically.

  At that moment a runner came rushing up to the general. The poor man had been sprinting and had to take an awkward pause to catch his breath as the General waited.

  "Sir," the young soldier began, sucking in air through his teeth and swallowing twice as he bent over and braced his hands on his knees. "They're here! The Primans have arrived."

  General Horle spun to face Captain Elco. "Captain," he began, "if they're on the way in, you'll never make it past them. You're welcome to stand with me in our control bunker underneath this base."

  "Lead the way, General," Elco replied.

  "It is as we expected, Captain," Representative Ravine purred from wher she stood beside his command chair on the Scythe's bridge. She was referring to the sensor data scrolling across the large screens at the front of the bridge which showed a plethora of information about the system. She saw everything from the six Lemurian destroyers, parked submissively with their weapons cold, to the tracks of all inbound and outbound traffic, to communications and data streams, to the constellation of Confederation satellites that they had passed on the way into the system. She also saw the dozen combat-tested heavy cruisers of Captain Vol's task force spread out in a three dimensional skirmish line as they approached the planet; three rows of four ships each stacked on top of each other, with the center of the wall of ships leading just enough to give the wall a slight cone shape. It allowed maximum sensor and weapons coverage for the formation but allowed them to break off and maneuver if necessary. "They are waiting for us to make the first move, and their Confederation partners are nowhere to be seen."

  "For now, Representative, they are not present," Captain Vol corrected. "I would be very interested to hear from the Lemurian leaders what excuses they have for the Confederation involvement." Captain Vol shifted in his seat as he contemplated his plan. Here under the bright lights of the spacious bridge, any indecision or weakness was readily apparent, especially considering the Representative who stood at his side. Taking too long to contemplate his actions always had the potential to be seen as weakness or indecision.

  "Communications," Captain Vol said to the officer at the appropriate console. She turned to him; her smooth Priman face, lacking a prominent nose, eyebrows, even her receding chin, were attractive to him, though he had no idea what a Human, Drisk, or Qualin would think. He didn't much care, of course, since they were inferior species and couldn't be counted on to judge such things properly.

  "Find me their leader, governor, president, whatever the being in charge calls him or herself."

  "Yes, Captain," came the quick reply. The Primans' skills with communications being what they were, it only took her a second to trace enough important communications back to the source; the Governor's Mansion.

  Chapter Six

  "Governor," an aide whispered nervously to him where he sat in the comfortable chair behind his enormous desk. The leather of his chair creaked as the man let the chair return to its upright position from the slightly reclined posture he'd been in and turned to face his staffer. "The Primans are on the comms asking to speak to whomever's in charge.
They sent the signal directly to this building."

  "Comforting to know they can find us easily enough," he muttered. "Thank you; I'll take it here. You may wait outside."

  Governor Broadbent waited for his aide to leave, then looked at the faces around him. The entire Council was there in person, a rare occasion that only underscored the severity of the situation. Whether they all wanted to have the chance to get their face time with the Primans or just be there to see Broadbent submit was anyone's guess. He also looked at a monitor on the wall and seen the face of General Horle. The governor had insisted on a feed for his military forces so they would be in the loop instantly and not have to get the information filtered through another source. The look on Horle's face said it all; the man looked like he was on death row and was simply waiting for someone to throw the switch. He didn't show the calm that came with the acceptance of death; he showed the anger of someone who still believed there was a chance. Broadbent on the other hand no longer believed there was a chance for his people.

  He tapped the desktop where the touchpads for various functions were located, and the incoming comm request came through holographically on his desktop projector. It was his first time seeing a real live Priman; he'd seen combat footage, mostly from ground campaigns and the occasional KIA, but this was different. The enemy carried himself well, with a haughtiness that indicated he was used to commanding and receiving what he wanted.

  "Priman commander," the governor began, "I am Governor Broadbent. On behalf of the Council and independent people of Lemuria, I greet you as a neutral party."

  "Governor Broadbent," the Priman replied, saying them a little slower than someone who spoke the language natively would. It seemed like he was rolling the words in his mouth, making an effort to be sure they came out unaccented and correct- no room for misinterpretation. "I am Captain Vol, and I command the ships in orbit above your planet. I am here to accept your surrender to my forces and in turn the Commander of the Priman military."

  The governor licked his lips quickly, for they had gone bone dry. He suddenly wished for a gallon of water, for it felt like his throat was made of sandpaper and every breath was an exercise of willing himself to not devolve into a fit of coughing. He'd been speaking publicly for a long time now, but this captain had him on the defensive from the very beginning.

  "Captain Vol," Broadbent continued with a great effort, atempting a disarming smile, "I would like to make you an offer of neutrality." He spoke quickly in the hopes that the Priman wouldn't interrupt him. Every time he took a breath he did it as quickly as possible. "This planet has existed for over two centuries as an independent, neutral world, even while in the vicinity of three major powers. We have been reasonably prosperous while keeping to ourselves and threatening no one. We have a number of highly valuable exports that perhaps might interest you-"

  "You seem to think I came here to negotiate," the Priman interrupted. He let that hang in the air for a handful of seconds, enough to let the governor become increasingly nervous. When he could practically hear the man's raging heartbeat, Captain Vol continued. "We are here, at this planet in particular and this galaxy in general, to reclaim what was once ours. This galaxy was ours. That planet you're living on was ours. And to my people, we still consider all of these things ours; you are just lesser beings trespassing on our property. We are not here to negotiate, sign treaties, or become friends. The Confederation of Systems, the Talaran Collection, and the Enkarran Empire so far have fallen or been reduced to insignificance in our campaign. What makes you think you are any more special than these major powers?" Captain Vol was off script a bit now, but he had made a decision. Too many planets had greeted him with this same sorry line about how they weren't any threat and he should just let them have a pass. Apparently these people felt they had some sort of leverage or bargaining position on him, but that was in no way the case; this planet would belong to the Primans today.

  "Before I make any decisions on what to do to your people," Captain Vol continued, still ramping up, "I want an explanation of all the Confederation activity we've noticed." He saw with satisfaction the governor's eyes bulge just the slightest bit; the man had a fairly effective control over his emotions, but it was all too obvious that he'd been caught by surprise. "In addition to the Confed surveillance satellites we've found in-system, there is also the fact of two Confederation warships that left not long before we arrived. What were they doing here?"

  Broadbent thought quickly, and realized the Primans only thought there were two Confed ships. They had been on the outskirts of the system; had the Primans seen it on the way in, or had they focused on watching Avenger and the battleship heave to and depart? No matter, since he still hoped for a peaceful resolution and didn't want the resulting bloodbath that a full-on confrontation would bring. "The Confederation vessels arrived here several days ago," Broadbent began, not sure exactly of how much the Primans knew. He knew, though, that the best lies had as much truth as possible in them, so he intended to work in as much as he could. "They said they were here on a diplomatic mission to see if we would like to join the Confederation. As you can see, we turned their offer down. As I've said, we've remained unaligned for a long time and saw no such reason to change that now, even with you here."

  "And so you would have me believe they just left?" Captain Vol asked.

  "I doubt you would take my word for it," Broadbent dared say, "but I assume you can scan the area around here and especially on the planet. There are no ships, troops, or the like under our banner; we still believe there is a way to coexist with your people."

  This governor's attitude was shocking to Vol. He'd seen outright fear, anger, and deception, but this man really believed he had room to dictate measures to the Primans. A lesson was in order. First, he looked across the bridge to the sensor officer, who understood the meaning and began another sweep of the planet and near-space for Confed emissions.

  "Governor Broadbent," Captain Vol continued. "How do you explain the wave of Confederation transports that are swarming around your planet?"

  Governor Broadbent's face blanched as the Priman finally made the accusation he'd been dreading. He'd hoped that since the Primans hadn't said anything about them that either they didn't care or weren't troubled by it, but apparently an explanation was going to be needed. He gathered himself, hoping he could pull off one more great story and help some more of his people escape. "We've leased them from the Confederation, Captain," Broadbent began. "My people were understandably nervous about being within a contested war zone, and I won't lie and say that everyone was just happy to wait out whatever you and everyone else are going to do to each other. We arranged transport off-planet for those that wanted to relocate temporarily. These ships are working for us, not under Confederation control."

  Captain Vol's decision was now made, no doubts or regrets. It was just a simple matter of seeing what these people would say as they plead for their lives. "And you believed that, even though you claim to be neutral and wish to coexist on your own terms with us, we would not find it objectionable that you were in any sort of relationship with the powers we are in the process of crushing?" Vol was angry now, and everyone could see it. His knuckles were draining of blood, going white as he gripped the armrests of his chair tighter and tighter. "You think that I would let any of you leave this planet? You are under my control, and I carry out the wishes of the Priman Commander. And do you know what bargains the Commander has authorized me to strike?" Vol didn't wait for an answer. "None. There are no bargains, Drisk, only terms, and here they are. One. You will power down and store all military equipment, including those transports that are even now trying to escape your atmosphere. I am warning you; I will have them destroyed if they try to flee. Two. You will turn over all phases of administration of your planet to me. In short order another force will come to take control on the surface. Until then, everything on your planet, from food to technology, will belong to me. Three. Your people will all register and
be accounted for, and will prepare for relocation to a place or facility of my choosing. By the time my ground forces land, you will have this plan ready to put into action. Now, is there any ambiguity to my statement, or am I perfectly clear?" Vol leaned back into his chair and tried to calm himself down a bit. He knew he'd let himself get more worked up than he should have, but these damned humanoids kept getting it in their head that they had something to bargain with, and they most certainly did not.

  "And what if I cannot convince all my people to cooperate?" asked Broadbent softly. Captain Vol couldn't entirely tell if the statement was made out of real concern that this governor person couldn't make it happen or if he was trying one last time to be defiant. Either way, he'd made his decision minutes ago.

  Captain Vol turned to the weapons officer. "Standard procedure," he barked. "Level the capitol building and the area immediately around it."

  Streams of light erupted from the dozen Priman warships, cascading down through the atmosphere and converging in waves on the capitol of Lemuria.

  Aboard the Stalwart class transport Lead Sled, Lieutenant Elon Sent-Kai turned to his co-pilot in alarm. "Look at the sensors!" he commanded. "The damn Primans just pounded the capitol down to the bedrock!"

  "I see," the co-pilot said calmly. Ensign Merrin Page was a Drisk, and while not from Lemuria, she understood why her fellows would establish an independent world and then stubbornly refuse to just give it up. She looked at the sensor displays on the panel in front of her as she made a course adjustment, watching through the viewport ahead as holographic waypoints and other vital information was displayed for her to take in.

  She liked Lieutenant Sent-Kai, even if the Qualin was a bit excitable. He was smart, a good teacher, and when not pulling Reserve duty flying old transports was a successful business owner, which probably explained his managerial skills. She had a feeling that dealing with him in a business environment could be stressful, though.