Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Reprisal Read online

  The lighting was also turned down, with only the chamber floor lit properly. He wondered if they did it to conserve electrical power, or to set a mood. It made the room feel decidedly unfriendly and impersonal. There was no chair; the people facing the Council were expected to stand in honor of those who sat in front of them.

  “Commander Velk,” began the oldest one of them, replete in a multilayered and garish collection of robes, vestments, and headdress. “Thank you for responding so quickly to our communication.”

  Velk simply had to play along with the pleasantries. “It is my duty.”

  “We have called you here regarding our timetable in this part of the galaxy,” began another. “There is some concern that we are taking too long here, and that we are allowing the residents to win enough skirmishes to become emboldened against us further.”

  “I regret that we are at times forced to give the Confederation and Talarans a fair fight. We are several times their number, but we also have to spread out over a much greater area and take on multiple enemies at a time. We need to pacify an entire spiral arm of this galaxy, and we need to use just enough ships to accomplish our goals at times so that we might have the resources to use elsewhere. We anticipate that in the next week our first two shipyards will complete their initial ships. It will be a glorious day when we can begin producing ships in quantity here in the territories we have taken.”

  “There is a concern that you are perhaps being too benevolent with the captured planets and their populations.” This statement from another, far off to one end of the table. Velk unfortunately had to assume each one had equal authority and defend himself from each one individually, if need be.

  “I am aware of the debates before we began this quest about how we would treat those we conquered. There are some who wanted to eliminate all opposition altogether. But these are our children. True, they have forgotten us and are in desperate need of our guidance, but these were the cultures our race fostered and nurtured most closely. These people we fight with now were the pinnacle of our race’s efforts on the road to higher levels of existence, and they should be valued as part of our lineage. I believe it is worth the effort to try and win their hearts before we simply destroy them. We must recapture them and all they have to offer, not wipe them out, for they are our creations.”

  “You are aware of the momentum building for use of the DNA weapon, I am sure.” The first speaker, the oldest, was back in charge of the conversation.

  “Yes, though I consider it a last resort.”

  “There may come a time when you must make that decision. We hope you will choose what is best for our people, and take the counsel of your Representatives.”

  “Of course.” So that was it. They wanted him to know that he should be ready to use their DNA weapon to kill those who failed to surrender, to commit genocide against the species his people had helped along the evolutionary path in the first place. And they no doubt had at least one Representative who would push for it. He was officially on notice, it seemed.

  The meeting continued for a few more minutes, and Velk was excused from the floor. As soon as the door had closed and locked, one figure emerged from the observer station along the side of the chamber.

  Representative Tash strode onto the floor, and took his place in front of the Council where Velk had been moments before.

  “Representative Tash,” began the one in charge. “You have seen what your Commander has to say. You also know what the Council wishes for this galaxy. Since you are next in line for Commander, we expect you to have knowledge of this debate, and decide on your own course of action should the need arise. One never knows when one might be elevated to Commander. Your original role was to govern after we conquered, but there is the possibility of having that role expanded.” Left unsaid was exactly what Tash was hoping to hear: if he played his cards right, he could make Commander early and take over the attack. It was all playing out as he and Terir had planned.

  “I am ready,” was his firm reply.

  “And what is your opinion of the DNA weapon and our advance into Confederation and Talaran space?”

  Tash was ecstatic about the impromptu job interview, and he knew all the answers. From what he and Terir had learned, he knew what the Council wanted to hear. Even better was the fact that it was exactly how he himself felt.

  “Members of the Council, I believe there is no shame in admitting that some of our children cannot be saved. There are those who will not accept the truth and see us as their protectors, their superiors. Granted, many are feeling the call, and our efforts at religious indoctrination are meeting with much success. But there are populations, sometimes whole colonies and planets, who refuse to see the light. Perhaps the use of the DNA weapon will illustrate to them that without us, they are nothing, that without our DNA, they are doomed to death. At that point, whether they elect to return to us out of a sense of right or fear of annihilation, the outcome would be similar. If given the opportunity and blessing of the Council, I would have no reservations about deploying such a weapon. We might even be able to change their allegiances after demonstration on a single planet.”

  “You are aware of the state of development of this weapon.” It was more of a confirmation than a question.

  “I am.

  “And your feelings toward the inhabitants of the territories we seek to recapture?”

  “I am of the opinion that weaker people want to be governed. They lack the direction and clarity of purpose that we possess. They crave rules and laws. The alternative is anarchy, and they don’t want that, no matter how loudly they might proclaim otherwise. If their neighbor is too noisy, they want someone to fix it for them. They want others to provide for them, to fix their infrastructure, and make their lives convenient.

  “I see our mission as less of a crusade,” the comment was a subtle dig at Velk’s own feelings that this was a quest to restore an almost holy order, “and more of a reclamation. We can and should use the religious angle, play on people’s God myths, and try our best to accept our place in their history as supreme beings. As we all know, in many cases we are the source of those myths. The more powerful our image as higher beings, the less people will want to test us.

  “The people will accept Priman rule because, in many ways, nothing in their daily lives will change. They will complain and perhaps push back at first, but when they realize their lives won’t be very different, they will adjust. They will be under our rule, and paying taxes or tribute to us instead of their own corrupt governments. The Confederation has been doing a less than admirable job anyway, by many of their own estimations, we’re told.

  “When it comes right down to it, people would rather adjust to change than risk everything to fight back, especially if they don’t see the immediate benefit of a revolt. I am confident that first of all, we will defeat their military, and that second, once they accept our rule, they will learn submission is the easiest way to keep their lives comfortable and predictable.

  “They will also know that disobedience or resistance to our hand will result in the use of the most fearsome biological weapon they have ever seen.”

  Senator Zek Dennix had been given a large conference room onboard Torino to use as his headquarters. The military was in no way ready to declare Delos safe, what with the Primans having occupied it for six months. They feared everything from hidden bombs to bioweapons to assassins. It was one of the few issues he realized he wasn’t going to win, so he dropped it and decided to make do. There was much work ahead of him, and he needed to focus.

  He was in the large room now, and at least that was an acceptable start. The place was big enough to park two Intruders in, and featured a large table of polished, semi transparent wood. An array of monitors and computer stations along one wall served as his communications center, and he had his most important aide with him, Commander Enric Shae.

  Shae was, at the Senator’s request, temporarily detached from Confederation service to act
as his aide-de-camp. Truth was, Shae had campaigned for the role himself, and the man smacked of ambition that Dennix would have no trouble putting to good use.

  Shae was with him in the office now, going over some figures the Senator had requested a briefing on. The first was an actual ship to run the government from if the Navy wasn’t going to let him down onto Delos. Dennix had run the idea by Shae of trying to commandeer a Sabre class carrier or Starshaker class battleship, but Shae had been convinced the Admirals would never give in to such a request. Even with the Ninth Fleet in shambles and the hulls sitting in orbit, it wasn’t something that was going to happen.

  Dennix had been reluctant to proceed beyond the mundane with Shae and into the realm of power-grabbing, but he also realized he couldn’t put it off forever. Either the man felt the same way he did, or he didn’t, and the Senator would need to look for a new aide.

  The Senator stopped reading the small datapad he held in front of him and looked at Shae, who took it as a sign that the Senator needed to talk.

  “Enric, I have a question for you. It regards your feelings about how to govern, and it’s something I need to know before we go further. This isn’t a pass/fail quiz, mind you, but I think we need to know how close we are on several issues before we get started with the real rebuilding of the Confederation.”

  Shae figured this talk was coming, and for his part couldn’t have been happier. It was time to finally hitch his ride to a rising star and achieve the position he always knew was waiting for him.

  “Please, Senator, go on,” Shae prodded.

  “This is,” Dennix paused to search for the right word, “sensitive. But here it is, in a nutshell. We have an opportunity here to make some positive changes in the way the Confederation governs itself. We can essentially start over with our Senate and Presidential Committee. What if we could retrieve the power that was once held by the Senate? There was a time, you know, when the Senate could effectively govern the Confederation. Nowadays, there are committees, studies, special interests, and enough watchdog groups that nothing ever gets done for fear of offending somebody or losing a vote because your bill is unpopular with someone. I admit, I am part of that camp. We sometimes worry more about being re-elected than taking chances politically.” Dennix was partially telling the truth, but he also figured Shae would like to hear the Senator’s own self doubt given voice.

  “What if the people in power had the authority to get things done? Instead of making a proposal and then waiting months or years for anything to change, what if you could just make it happen?”

  What Zek Dennix was describing to Enric sounded remarkably like a dictatorship, but he was wiling to let him go on. Especially if Enric had a high place in this dictatorship.

  “I will admit I’ve wondered what we could do if we weren’t bogged down with procedure and tradition all the time,” Enric added.

  “Almost all of the Senators are missing, save for a few who were off-planet at the time,” Dennix continued. “The thought occurs to me that now is the time to bring in people who are of like mind to us.”

  Enric smiled. This sounded more like a revolution. Part of him feared for the democratic foundations of the Confederation, but part of him longed for the strong leadership that a determined voice would bring. “You’d need to arrange to have people who see our point of view elected.”

  “There’s almost no immediate need for that, actually. As the majority power in the Senate, I can essentially appoint interim Senators for those that are missing. They become incumbents, and incumbents tend to win reelection anyway. We’ll hold elections on the few planets where they’re due, but I can endorse those that are with us, and my heroic time as a fugitive on Delos will give me the political capital to help choose who gets elected. We appoint everyone else, and pretty soon the Senate is full of our supporters. We get control of the committees, and slowly pass some emergency powers to the Presidential Committee, which of course I will head up.” The Senator was talking rapidly, obviously excited, and it was wearing off on Enric, too.

  “And our supporters will back our resolutions because we’ll help get them into the Senate in the first place,” Enric took off with the conversation. “Pass a few emergency bills, raise taxes, especially on fringe groups and their interests, and use their outcries to deflect attention from what we’re trying to accomplish. We can influence policy and public opinion by pressing on the news media. It’s been done since the dawn of time, and we’ll find a few news outlets who are friendly to us. People want to believe what they see on the news vids, after all.”

  Dennix liked where Shae was going with this. He was becoming reassured that he had chosen the right man for the job after all.

  “The only problem is the military,” Dennix mused. “Not that I expect a coup or anything so dramatic, but they of all people will be able to find out the truth.”

  “Then we simply need to give them something else to worry about,” countered Shae. “I think an order to integrate the Enkarrans into the war effort immediately would definitely keep certain parties busy.”

  “So quick to turn on your former comrades, Mr. Shae?” Dennix deliberately left off Shae’s military rank to emphasize the point that he was just another civilian now and was talking about his former shipmates like they were the other side.

  “I believe it’s more important to do what’s required to rebuild a strong Confederation, Senator.” There was no mention, of course, of the power and privilege he knew he could obtain by joining forces with the Senator.

  Loren couldn’t sleep again. It was fairly common, and while he had toyed with asking the ship’s surgeon for something to help him sleep, he had elected to keep the chemicals out of his system. So he slept less, but was actually getting used to it. Either that, or he was getting numb and it just didn’t affect him as much anymore.

  The worst part was the end of the day when it was time to hit the rack. When he was busy, he could compartmentalize his fear of what Cassie was going through. But once the day was done and most others were fast asleep, Loren would inevitably be woken up by the nightmares. They took various forms, but they all shared the theme of Loren being unable to help Cassie. She was stuck on Toral as the Primans did horrible things to the Confed population in general and her in particular, or she was being carted off to the far reaches of Priman space where he’d never see her again. He’d wake up in a cold sweat and it could take hours for him to be able to calm down and try to sleep again.

  So he’d dress back up and take a stroll throughout the ship during the overnight watches, getting to know the ship and crew in a way he never had when he was the CAG. He had started by just going to C3, but realized that there were a lot of places he never went. So he journeyed to the Engineering spaces, machine shops, weapons magazines, and every other place he could think of. He met the crew, got to know names and jobs, and in a sense put his inability to sleep to good use.

  While most of the crew thought he was simply skipping sleep so he could think of more ways to kill Primans, only Loren knew what was really roiling inside his brain. That’s why this crazy mission to help Halley on Callidor had him so excited. With no impending fleet assignments for Avenger any time soon, this would be the diversion he needed to stay sane. As long as he had something more immediate than his longing to see his wife again, he could remain useful to his ship and crew. And if doing damage on Callidor helped get Cassie freed sooner, it was just that much better. He decided to head down to the firing range to brush up before the operation started.

  Soon enough, Avenger was at the staging point just an hour’s flight outside the Callidor System. True to his word, Riles had arranged for top priority for Avenger, and work crews had repaired the major systems in less than the day and a half he’d promised. It wasn’t pretty, but it had worked. They’d also been given a small, dilapidated old transport, with just enough range to have been able to reach two neighboring systems adjacent to Callidor. This gave Loren and his crew a cover in c
ase they were asked about their place of origin. With the independent freight business being what it was, it would be almost impossible to verify whether their cover of being a crew looking for cargo was legit or not.

  So, as Avenger sat in sensor stealth mode, hanging in the darkness out beyond the Callidor System, Loren and his shuttle plotted a course for one of the entry beacons into Callidor’s arrival corridors.

  Merritt was flying, with Web flying co-pilot. Loren and Cory were sitting in the small and musty crew cabin just behind the cockpit and forward of the cargo bay, rehearsing the plan one last time. He had his trusty SSK in a shoulder bag similar to that of any seasoned traveler, and was carrying a smaller version of the SSK, appropriately identified as the SSK-C, for Compact. It was smaller in scale, with a reduced effective range, smaller energy cell, and slightly smaller caliber projectiles. Still deadly enough, especially in the hands of someone trained well.

  Cory eyed him carefully as he tucked the SSK-C in a paddle holster in his rear waistband. “You planning on using that?”

  “I’d prefer not to. Might cause problems with that covert thing we’re supposed to be doing, I figure.” He replied with a small, quick grin, but Cory knew he was a more serious man than he’d been just over a half year ago.

  Loren stole a glance out of the forward cockpit viewports, and saw the planet below.

  “Bring back any memories from our last visit?” Loren asked.

  “Only bad ones. Getting shot down and then roughed up by the enemy tends to sour my impressions of Callidor. I hear it’s nice enough, aside from the occasional beating by Enkarrans.”