Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Turmoil Page 29

  "There is one person in all of the Confederation that I would trust with Velk's captivity," Loren said slowly. "And according to the fleet movement orders I just checked, his ship is due here tomorrow to visit the shipyards for repairs."

  "There she is," Lieutenant Caho announced from her seat behind Captain Elco and Commander Stone in the sensor shack. "Thunderbird. Sable class fleet carrier, Flagship of Fleet Admiral Privac."

  And unofficial lair of Admiral Nodam Bak, the most driven and possessed person in the Confederation navy, Elco thought. Formerly something like a mentor to him, he'd had to demand the Admiral turn himself over on charges after he'd admitted leaking classified into the the Enkarrans in the days before the war. He'd done it to keep tensions high and the military funded, but he had no idea the Primans had been in league with the Enkarrans back then. He'd been responsible for the destruction of two Confederation ships before hostilities had been official, and had since been sequestered in the bowels of Admiral Privac's flagship. For as much as Nodam Bak was guilty, he was also brilliant at delving into Priman tactics and seemed to always be working on the next big thing. He was simply too valuable to lock up in prison. So, he'd been given credit for the things he did well, then disappeared. Now, he unofficially worked for the Fleet Admiral, waging a clandestine, unconventional war in parallel with Confed's regular efforts. If there was anybody in the Confederation who would safeguard Velk, it was Admiral Bak.

  There was only one problem: Loren wasn't entirely sure the Admiral wouldn't dissect the Priman if he thought it would lead to worthwhile results.

  Loren and Captain Elco strode the corridors of Thunderbird, passing by bustling crew every step of the way. The carrier was only going to stay docked for a few days, then it was off to rejoin a task force patrolling recently contested territory along their shared border with the Priman-occupied Talaran territories.

  They'd contacted Fleet Admiral Privac to let him know they had a plan they'd like to present to Admiral Bak. The Fleet Admiral appreciated the protocol and had suggested they come over just before the dinner hour, when much of the crew would be either off-ship or rotating through the mess halls. Loren and the captain had spent much of the day going over details and trying to put together a briefing that didn't sound like it was done under the influence of mind-altering drugs.

  Now they stood outside the series of conference rooms that were turned over to Admiral Bak and his small staff. Elco tapped the call button on the frame of the hatch and waited for a reply.

  "Come in," came a neutral sounding voice.

  Elco entered first, followed by Loren. The conference room was empty, and as always seemed to be lit only by the small lamps on the large briefing table. Loren still wasn't sure if was theatrics, focus, or an aversion to bright light, but Admiral Bak seemed to like a very low ambient light when working alone.

  Admiral Bak strode purposefully up to them and saluted, then offered his hand to shake. Loren and Elco complied, then the Drisk Admiral pointed to chairs where they should sit. The Admiral, despite being old enough to be eligible for peacetime retirement, showed no signs of slowing down, and his often unlimited energy had been known to wear down the most energetic staffer.

  Admiral Bak lowered himself into a chair across the table from them and pointed at a pitcher of water and glasses set between the three. "Can I get you some water? Have you eaten yet?" he asked.

  "We're fine, Admiral," Captain Elco started. "This could take some time, so I thought we should get right at it."

  Bak's interest was piqued; Elco was being uncharacteristically shady, and Loren wasn't afraid to get in the mix if it meant getting the job done for Confed. This was getting interesting for the Admiral.

  "I'm all ears," Bak replied, leaning forward intently.

  "You're familiar with Representative Velk's escape the day before last?" Loren began.

  "Unfortunately," Bak said darkly. Then he looked at Loren and knew something was up. "You know something," he said slowly.

  "I know where he is," Loren stated matter-of-factly.

  "Excellent," Bak replied brightly. "Let's bring him in. I'll inform Admiral Privac and we can get started with a proper interrogation."

  Elco shook his head just a fraction as he spoke. "It's not that simple, Admiral," he said.

  "Explain."

  Elco took a deep breath and rattled the rest off as fast as he could. "Velk was broken out by Tana Starr, close advisor to Senator Dennix. Yes, I know you warned us about the high turnover on his staff. She was a Priman in disguise. Loren and a few others tracked her down, assaulted their safehouse, and kidnapped Velk. He's now being held incommunicado while we decide what to do with him."

  As soon as Elco took a breather, Admiral Bak broke in. "Then we return him to navy custody!"

  "Here's where it gets to the 'not that simple’ part," Elco said with a frown, then looked at Loren to continue.

  "Senator Dennix is part of the Priman's plans. They're giving him orders, and he's obeying. Halley Pascal, the SAR operative who supported this mission, did a field interrogation on Tana Starr using a new Priman-tailored drug. Starr coughed up a lot, including a plot to kill Velk so he couldn't drum up more moderate support among his own people. There's a new Commander and as we've seen, he's much more trigger happy than Velk was. Velk isn't safe among us because the Primans and whoever is working with the Senator will want him dead. We needed Tana Starr's testimony to even begin to have a case against the Senator's actions, but she committed suicide early this morning after being visited by Enric Shae."

  "Everyone would say she was prepped to give that sort of answer to sow discord among us, and a suicide would wrap that up nicely," Admiral Bak continued. "Though it seems plausible that out government has been infiltrated and that the Senator has been compromised, I might be inclined to agree with those who would toss out Starr’s interrogation as misleading information. Why should we believe her statement?"

  "Because Halley does, first thing," Loren said. "And because Velk did, too. I saw it in his eyes; he knows his people are changing and I don’t think he likes their direction. But now, with Starr dead, Velk is the only loose end. I'm starting to believe that he might actually be useful to us if the Primans themselves are split as to how to go about this war."

  "Or he could be useful to us in a straight-up interrogation," Bak continued his earlier train of thought. "He certainly has intel that is still valuable to us, even after being out of the loop so long." Bak stared hard at Loren, intentionally ignoring Elco. "Perhaps this is our opportunity to interrogate him without the oversight that often hampers us."

  Loren's face hardened. "I don't see how that helps, sir."

  "You did it once, Commander, to save an entire planet. You threw a Priman prisoner right out of an airlock, did you not?" Bak was becoming confrontational with Loren's lack of enthusiasm over the potential. "You remember that, correct?"

  "Of course I do," Loren said softly. Then he continued with more confidence. "But I'm not going to be the bag-man for every dirty job that comes along, either."

  "So you'd spare that man if you could do it again," Admiral Bak challenged, "let your planet and wife die?"

  Loren's hesitation was all the answer Bak needed. "No, you wouldn't. And neither would I. So what's different now?"

  "Maybe I'm different," Loren said. "I've killed people, taken Priman lives since this war started. I don't much relish the idea of taking lives, but it's something I've made peace with a necessary to protect my home, family, even myself. I figure someday, when my time here is up and I have to account to a higher power for the things I've done, I can stand tall about most everything in my life. Except for that one Priman. Maybe he didn't need to die, I don't know, but I did the only thing I could think of at the time. Maybe a better man could have come up with an alternative, but that's all I had. I'm not going to make it my habit, though. We can come up with a better way."

  Admiral Bak leaned all the way back and relined his chair, st
udying Loren's face. Loren stared him right back, not sure if he should be deferring to the man's rank and look away or stare him down to assert himself. Finally, Admiral Bak continued.

  "Alright, then," he said slowly as he chewed his lip, "we'll take interrogation off the table for now. Is Velk in a safe place?"

  "Yes," Loren said confidently. "He's with a Fixer I've worked with."

  Bak's eyes darted around as he tried to recall the name. "Drayven, right?"

  "Garrett Drayven, yes," Loren finished. "We sort of owe him a lot of Confed's money, but he's secure, he'll come through, and nobody outside of our group here knows about his work for us."

  "You trust this man?" Bak asked somewhat doubtfully.

  "With my life," Loren reassured the man. "I think he values as clients, even considers us solid acquaintances; he won't turn on us now that he's taken the job. It's his code, so to speak. But I'll vouch for him."

  "I guess you just have," Bak mused. Then he leaned forward again and looked at Loren and Elco, a gesture that was beginning to wear on Loren. "Alright, I guess you and your bunch has earned the right to make a few judgment calls like that by this point. Just tell me Drayven won't burn the operation."

  "He won't."

  Velk hadn't said anything for hours; he just stared out the large windows, which were made of a pricey glass composite that could be made opaque, mirrored or even one-way. Garrett had assured the Priman that the treatments as well as a host of other items in the condo prevented any sort of monitoring; he'd even gone so far as to make rude gestures to a police vehicle that went floating by.

  Then the silence had followed as Velk's mind wandered. He was stuck somewhere in the middle of this conflict and didn't know what to make of it, or what his part was supposed to be any more.

  His people had spent all those hundreds of years marooned in space with a single purpose; return, reclaim, re-establish civilization. These inhabitants were destructive, irresponsible, and desperately in need of leadership. He thought that swift victories would weaken their resolve, but instead they'd fought harder. It went against everything they displayed by outward actions, but there it was. And now the Commander was more intent on wiping them all out than returning them to the fold as citizens of Priman society. Surely there was some middle ground? Maybe he had been wrong in his assessment of these people? It pained him to admit that, but he'd be a greater fool to continue working with a viewpoint that was incorrect.

  "How do you think this war is going, Mr. Drayven?" asked Velk out of the blue.

  "Me?" asked Garrett, surprised. He was in the expansive kitchen making them a light supper of breads, cheeses and meats. Too bad if Velk wasn't going to get his hands uncuffed; Garrett had everything sliced into neat little cubes the man could lean over and pick up with his teeth.

  "I'm just a businessman," Garrett said as he seated himself at the table and slid Velk's plate over to him. "Sorry, you don't get a knife. Or a fork. Or anything, really."

  Velk didn't respond to the food or comments. "But you make your living in this region of space, correct?"

  "Sure," Garrett replied. "All the way up and down this arm of the galaxy, sometimes farther if the job calls for it. What are you asking? I'd be happy to just tell you."

  "Do you think you can win? Should you win?"

  "Me personally?" Garrett asked. "Look, I make my money despite who's in charge. Wars can be good for people like me. Peacetime, too. I adapt."

  "Pick a side," said Velk testily. "Who would you prefer in charge?"

  "You're really locked onto that, aren't you?" Garrett said with interest. "Look, we might be unruly and somewhat despicable at times, but there are lot of great people, good things, wonderful accomplishments we can take credit for as well. I think the positive aspects of our civilization outweight the negatives. Some would even say that you can’t have the good without the bad; sort of a cosmic balancing act. And as far as the inhabitants around here go, when it comes down to it, you'll find there are many more people who'd fight to the death than willingly become your servants."

  "But you don't have to be our servants!" Velk insisted, something he'd never found the way to put into words before. "We came back to reclaim our title, yes, but more than that was our mission to restore order. We could teach you so much, help you further yourselves."

  "And people would always ask what the cost was going to be," Garrett replied knowingly.

  "As it stands, the cost will be your annihilation," Velk said with a measure of regret. "Our new Commander has no reservations about wiping everyone out and starting our old experiment over if need be."

  Garrett mused on that for a second.

  "Maybe there is a way we can coexist," Velk offered.

  "I thought your people already made an official offer to us," Garrett replied. "I think Senator Dennix read a statement about it just a few minutes ago. I should have watched, actually."

  "That offer is a ruse, packaged as a treaty that means nothing to our leadership. They will continue to use your Senator to chip away at the Confederation until it's too late. And then you will all perish."

  "And I suppose you could do better?" asked Garrett doubtfully.

  "Not me personally," Velk said. "My time has passed, but perhaps the next Commander, the Junior Representative, could be shown the light of truth. We can coexist, not annihilate. And to be honest with you, Mr. Drayven, this war is affecting my people in a way you wouldn't notice. We were always of one mind, one purpose. We would have never backstabbed, made back room deals, conspired to kill our own in order to get ahead; those are human traits. If we win but end up becoming like you, then we've failed in any case. There is no point in winning if we lose ourselves that way."

  "Are you still trying to win me over?" asked Garrett. "Because now it just sounds like you're insulting us."

  "My people are being corrupted," Velk said flatly. "I don't make this offer to help myself or even to help you; I do it to save my people. And to be pragmatic, as you would say, the longer we fight, the more of us on each side dies. Surely there can be a solution all of us can live with, at least grudgingly."

  "So you'd just negotiate some terms, settle down, plant some flowers?" said Garrett with a look of mistrust.

  "My people were once a race of thinkers, scientists, artists," Velk continued. "We had to become a race of fighters, and once we were defeated and crammed into those motherships, we barely had any record of our old skills and trades. Much of that heritage was lost, technology stagnated, and over almost ten centuries I am ashamed to say we had little to fall back on other than preparing to reclaim our birthright."

  "You forgot the part about where you deserved it," Garrett added. "According to what few records survived, entire civilizations were lost. Planets laid to waste. It was fairly grim."

  "What I am saying is that I want to avoid that happening again, in our present age." Velk stared Garrett down, and suddenly the thought occurred to Garrett that this man could very well be speaking the truth.

  Chapter Sixteen

  "You're not going to believe this," Admiral Bak said to Loren and Elco as he approached them in one of Thunderbird's many mess halls. They'd been enjoying a late supper when the Admiral himself came to get them.

  "Must be pretty good," Elco said with a curious look.

  "I just got a call from your Fixer, Commander Stone," Bak continued in hushed tones as he sat down with them, the three of them having an entire table to themselves. "He seems to think Velk is seriously willing to try to help settle this war with us."

  "Isn't that what this supposed treaty that Senator Dennix just had that press conference for was all about?" asked Elco.

  "Velk claims it's all a sham, part of the Primans' deal with Dennix. He says he wants a real, honest, straight-up truce with us and the rest of the galaxy."

  "What's his price?" asked Loren harshly.

  "I'm not sure. Drayven is on his way up here so we can talk about it together." Loren and Elco exchanged glan
ces. "We have terms," Bak continued. "We meet on Garrett's ship, just him, Velk, and the three of us. Garrett gets to keep Velk in his custody unless Velk decides to stay here."

  "And I thought this day could not possibly get more strange," said Elco in wonder.

  Bak, Elco, and Stone were waiting for Drayven's ship when it arrived in Thunderbird's central hangar bay. It was a high end private cruiser, aerodynamic and curvy, big enough to comfortably handle fifteen or twenty passengers. Garrett had refitted it for the needs of just himself, and obviously took a great measure of pride in the ship.

  "Must have some good hidden weapons ports on there," Admiral Bak said to Garrett after he'd walked to the bottom of the ramp to meet his guests. "Our sensor operators couldn't find them."

  "That's because there aren't any, Admiral," said Garrett easily. "She's fast and has the biggest shield generators I could fit onboard. I'm a respectable businessman, you know," he said with a cheery smile. "Why would I need weapons?"

  Admiral Bak just nodded and tried to conceal a smile. He couldn't decide if this gutsy man was too brash and annoying, or if he admired the man's ingenuity and drive.

  "After you," Garrett said, moving aside and indicating the ramp. All four of them walked up and into Garrett's ship. They entered a large space taken up with a massive and ornately carved wooden table along the port bulkhead. There were displays attached to the walls, a holo field generator, and plenty of comfortable lounge chairs along the other side of the main traffic area. The dark, heavily knotted wood contrasted sharply with the high-end technology packed into the space.

  "The table is an antique," Garrett explained as they rounded the corner and saw it. "It's a wood that's extinct now, ridiculously expensive to buy. I have it not really for myself, though I do like natural furnishings when they're appropriate. But you probably know as well as I do that sometimes you do things for appearances. It impresses certain elements of my clientele."