Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Pursuit (4 page)

And so nothing happened.  He'd relieved
admirals and generals, put in people he'd thought were more pliable, but there
seemed to be a systemic problem in the military in which they didn't want to
fight, at least not against each other.

In fact, the only party seemingly happy
with events was the Primans.  Naturally. 

And that led to this dismal turn of
events.  It was obvious to him by now that they'd gotten to Shae when he'd been
in Priman space 'negotiating' the treaty he'd been forced to sign.  Shae had
come back with lots of positive things to say about how the Primans were going
to make the galaxy right again, and that he and Zek would be a part of it.  But
they'd also made Shae his handler.  With Tana Starr dead, they'd needed a new
person to ride herd on the Senator and feed him orders.  And now that it was
open knowledge that Primans were capable of masquerading as Humans, Drisk, and
others, they'd never get one of their own by his side again.  That wouldn't be
a problem, apparently, because Shae was cheerfully regurgitating every order he
was given through the various clandestine sources he'd been shown.  He'd picked
Shae as his right hand because the man was ambitious enough to turn on his
former Confederation colleagues, but at this point he was also sure that Shae
wanted his job as well.  He'd have to do something about that.

"Also," Shae continued as
Dennix tried to catch up with the conversation, "the trap you approved on
the Galactic Ore Company’s facility went off well for the Primans."  Shae
shuffled a stack of secure data pads, trying to piece together the story from
different sources.

"I didn't approve a trap,"
Dennix said gruffly.  "Don't play with the semantics of what I was forced
to do.  They gave you a list, you gave it to me, I gave it to the
military."

Shae just looked up over the top of the
data pad he was reading and continued.  "Of course.  In any case, it went
well for them, bad for us.  We sent a Prowler in-system last night and it
didn't see a single Confed ship, just a task force of about two dozen Priman
cruisers circling the planet.  We can assume they'll have the ore soon."

Dennix just brooded, and then fixed Shae
with a glare.  "A month of this truce as they call it, and we've lost
almost as many ships as if we were openly fighting.  Except now, they're hardly
losing anything at all because the navy is walking into Priman traps."

"I think we both knew what their
agenda was," Shae said softly.  "We pull back, they pick apart our
fringe worlds and wear down the navy.  Eventually we've pulled back far enough
that we're not a threat to them and then we're back on our own."

"Under their thumb, of course,"
Dennix spat.  "And until they decide to alter the deal again."

"We were aware that was how this
would ultimately end," said Shae reasonably.  "And this civil war
angle works perfectly, to be honest.  The planets that are the biggest threat
to them are the ones in revolt against the core systems.  So, we don't have to
defend them against the Primans.  They take one of the rebel planets, we don't
have to take the blame.  It looks even better for you.  And the loyal military
has orders to stay close and not get in the way out there.  With any luck, this
will be over before we know it."

Dennix pondered Shae's logic for a few
seconds.  He had no doubts that Shae had the ear of the Primans directly, and
that if he thought Dennix was getting cold feet there might be unpleasant
changes for the Senator in the works.  If the Confederation was going to be
absorbed by the Primans anyway, it might as well be with him in charge; it was
time to move forward.  "Ok then," Dennix started fresh.  "In
that case, we need to decide who we're backing in the mid-term elections." 
He grabbed a data pad and called up a list of names.  "We help our friends
stay in office, they back an extension of my Committee's term in charge."

Shae nodded happily and they got to
work.  The Senator was right about one thing in particular; the Primans would
keep altering the arrangement until they were happy with the results, and it
was more likely than not that the Senator was no longer part of their long term
plans.

Commander First Rank Loren Stone was
trying hard, and actually managing, to relax just a bit.  Call it a 7% 
reduction, down off the 100% stress level he tended to keep himself at.  The
location deserved the most credit for the accomplishment, he had to admit.

He was sitting in a portable survival
chair taken from the equipment locker of the Freedom class transport sitting on
the hard sand close to the tree line.  As for Loren, he and his chair were
sitting in much softer sand, right at the water line where the gentle tide came
hissing smoothly up towards him and his friends.  Despite the sun and clear
blue skies, the temperature was quite comfortable; he wasn't even sweating in
his standard shipboard jumpsuit and boots thanks to the light salty breeze that
brought in enough cool air to keep at bay the heat that was building farther
inland.

He was surrounded by his friends and
comrades from aboard Avenger; Captain Second Rank Corinne Sosus, CAG of all
Avenger's fighters and skipper of the twelve-strong Intruder attack wing. 
There were Commanders Merritt Elder and Web Exeter, Merritt being in command of
the twelve ship Viper squadron flying the venerable Talon fighter.  That bunch
all had their boots off, bare feet in the cool sand to be found just under the
top layer.  Loren had issues with cleaning sand off of his feet, socks, boots,
duffels, chair, etc, and wouldn't be joining them in that past-time, but he was
happy they were enjoying themselves.

Others had come and gone from their
circle over the past twenty months, and all would return again sooner or later,
Loren was sure.  But this group was their core, the people that made up the
bunch he trusted his life with and who would help him end this war with the
Primans.  All that was missing was the small detail of exactly
how
they'd do it, but he knew it would happen.  He had faith in
them.

"So nice of the admiral to arrange a
meet someplace civilized," Cory said lazily, enjoying the breeze from
behind dark sunglasses and a wide brimmed sun hat.

"Of course," countered Web,
ever the one to see the shifty side of things, "I find it very interesting
he wouldn't give us the catalog number or coordinates of the place.  Just asked
us if we remembered the tranquil planet we staged over while looking for the
Priman DNA virus a while back.  Didn't even want Avenger in orbit."

Loren nodded knowingly.  And that was
exactly how Admiral Nodam Bak, secretly in charge of the most covert aspects of
the war with the invading Primans, had wanted it.  It made Loren think this was
another of the man's off-the-books assignments, though these days he had just
as much reason to keep information from his own government as the enemy.

Since the dubious truce that the Senator
had announced was made policy, Confed's military had been on the defensive both
at home and afar.  The Primans were still chopping away at their numbers
through ambushes and skirmishes, but the Confed navy was prohibited from
seeking engagement or even probing disputed territory.  Officially, it was so
they didn't jeopardize their fragile truce by antagonizing the Primans. 
Unofficially, Loren and a handful of others suspected Senator Dennix had been
compromised by the enemy and was somehow doing their bidding.  His chief
advisor had been a Priman agent, and under the influence of powerful truth
drugs had described the procedure of how they gave orders for him to carry out;
he belonged to the enemy.  Proving it was going to be tough, though, especially
since the entire government was infested with yes-men whom the senator had put
in place in the weeks and months after his rise to power following the Primans'
opening move of the war when the enemy had kidnapped the entire Confederation
government.

The proof would have to be airtight,
without any dispute.  The testimony of the Priman agent wouldn't be available,
as she'd committed suicide in confinement before any official statement could
be taken.

And so, here they were.  If they came
forward with charges now, they'd be labeled traitors, rebels or Priman
sympathizers, and run off in disgrace. 

"Anybody up for joining the rebel
systems yet?" Loren asked casually, though it was not by any means a light
topic among the Confederation military.  With almost a third of Confed's navy
defected to the outlying systems, nothing could be taken for granted anymore.

"Are you going to get us a signing
bonus or anything?" asked Merritt.

"Hey, I'll be honest; I had to think
about it, if just for a little while.  But while I hate the idea of taking
orders from the senator, I'm enough of a pragmatist to know that the best way
to take Confed back is from the inside.  Once we get the government
straightened out, everyone will be back and things will be normal again."

"Well," added Web, "as
normal as they ever were."

Loren just pointed at Web in a gesture of
agreement.

They all stared into the waves in silence
after that, letting the soothing sound of the breakers lull them into
tranquility.

Loren's ears perked up at a faint noise. 
It was barely audible under the sound of the waves, but it was different; a
constant sound, maybe getting louder in fact, but not the back-and-forth of the
waves, either.  It sounded like thrusters.

He sat forward in his chair, eyes
squinting behind sunglasses as he searched the sky.  He looked over and saw
that everyone else must have noticed it, too.  Pretty soon they were all
standing, backs together, as they quartered the sky in search of the mystery
noise.

Finally, it resolved into definite engine
noise.  It approached from the east, volume building as it closed, then the
noise was past them and fading.  Loren never saw anything.

"What the hell?" he heard Cory
ask.

"Roger that on the 'what the
hell'," Merritt added.

"Stealth," Web stated simply. 
"A mag-field like Avenger is the only thing that makes sense."

Loren nodded again, but the thought was
pretty far-fetched.  Still, it was the only thing that fit.

Then the noise was back, only this time
it built and seemed to stop moving, instead growing in intensity back by their
transport.  Loren had a split second of panic that this was another Priman
ambush and their ride out of here was about to be destroyed, but it wasn't
anything to fear.

Over their ship the air shimmered, so
much so that his eyes watered.  He blinked the tears away to see something that
brought a smile to his face.  The shimmer disappeared and in its place was a
smooth, flat black Prowler.  The advanced recon ships carried a crew of four,
with engines above and below each of its short wings.  It pivoted and changed
orientation until it was pointing nose to nose with their much less graceful
looking transport, then dropped gear legs and settled into the sand.  As soon
as it was on the ground, the engines spooled down and the side hatch dropped.

It was no surprise to Loren that Admiral
Bak stepped down the stairs and onto the sand, smirk on his face.

"You like my ride?" he asked
casually, sweeping an arm behind him at his ship.

"I didn't know anyone ever tried to
put a mag-shield generator in something that small," Merritt admitted.

"That's an 'E' model Prowler,"
Web said approvingly.  "You can tell by the missing hard points and bigger
heat stacks by the engines.  Weren't more than a handful built; they were
intended as test beds for new technologies and were deployed without most of
the sensor systems that they're usually crammed with.  Lots of extra weight
available; if they could built it small enough, that Prowler could definitely
lift it."

Admiral Bak smiled approvingly. 
"Excellent identification, Commander."

"No markings that I see," Cory
prodded.

"No," stated Bak.  "This
particular spaceframe is listed as destroyed after testing.  Of course, you'll
have noticed that the testing seems to have been successful.  The problem was
that the stealth systems worked for the most part, but there was no room left
for the sensor systems that the Prowler needs to carry, so all we really
created was an invisible transport that could move a quartet of lightly armed
infantry.  Frankly, I saw a need for a ship without a registry, IFF beacon,
plus stealth systems, and managed to
stash it away against a future need.  I used it now because, as you have
probably guessed, we need this meeting to not have ever officially taken
place.  The Primans can't know, and for the love of all that's holy our
government can't know, either.

"Why don't you all come into the
Prowler and we can talk?"

CHAPTER
THREE

The five of them crammed into the rear
compartment of the Prowler.  Originally outfitted with sensor stations and
equipment racks, this particular one was stripped down and instead sported a
small table and a half dozen chairs on sliding mounts around it.

Once seated, Admiral Bak got right to
it.  "We have some big things in the works," he began, "and you
are all going to be involved."  He shifted in his seat and looked at Web. 
"First, Commander Exeter, you've been requested personally by the commander
of a small team we're assembling."  Web's eyebrows shot up in surprise. 
"We're going after the Dennix ring data that Velk told us about."

Now everyone looked shocked, and Bak held
up his hands to keep them quiet while he continued.  "First, some good
news.  The morning after you captured Ms. Starr and we discovered the fact that
we had Priman moles disguising themselves with those biometric rings, we
conducted a raid across the capitol of Delos.  We arrested a half dozen of them
and stashed them in dark, quiet holes all across the Confederation.  And no, of
course it didn't make the news.  Frankly, I expected to find more, but perhaps
Starr was right when she said there weren't that many.

"In any case," he continued,
"Velk offered, very grudgingly, to assist us in getting a hold of the
recordings of Senator Dennix’s activities since he started wearing his former
Priman aide’s ring."

"He'd turn on his own people?"
asked Web.

"Not really turn, as we might
consider it," Admiral Bak corrected.  "Velk thinks his people are
being corrupted by their time here and their subversive dealings with us and
other powers they're trying to take over.  He fears for the purity of his
people, so he says, and he wants those in power to step down.  The way it's
been explained to me, based on what we know of the Priman command hierarchy, is
that a Commander stays in place until he or she accomplishes their set goals. 
However, as was the case with Velk, the Commander can be replaced sooner if
their Council feels the Commander has failed in their job.  It's Velk's hope
that the next Commander would be a more moderate voice, willing to work with
bodies like the Confederation and Talarans instead of just trying to crush them
and start over.  He fears a repeat of the conflict a thousand years ago."

"Do you buy any of this?" asked
Cory, doubtfully.

"To a degree, yes, I do
actually," replied Bak.  "We know they subtly altered and guided most
of the species in this galactic arm all those millennia ago.  They want to
return to take their place here, but that's where their camps seem to diverge. 
Velk claims many would be happy to simply return and take a place in the
galaxy, offering help and guidance in the hopes that they could help all of us
advance as some sort of continuation of their experiment.  The other half of
them would be fine with simply annihilating us all and taking the galaxy by
force.  He feels there are enough moderates that he can broker a peaceful
solution."

"But what could Velk possibly gain
from helping us?"  Loren finally asked.  He had a slightly deeper
understanding of the internal politics of the Priman people than the rest of
his friends, and things had for the most part made sense until now.  "I
mean, it seems like this is a huge gain for us, but pretty risky for him."

"Well," said Bak, "our
interests coincide.  If we remove our compromised leaders, obviously it's great
for the Confederation.  It might make us much stronger against the Primans,
which makes you wonder why Velk would help us.  The flip side is that us doing
well in the war weakens the position of the Priman Commander.  If his
machinations don't pan out and his attack stalls or fails, it opens the door to
his replacement or a change in strategy.  Velk wants to sneak back into Priman
space at some point to try and rally support for more moderate dealings with us
and the rest of the galaxy."

"So he wants his own people to
fail," said Web with a doubtful look in his eyes.  "I still don't buy
it."

"Short version, then," said
Admiral Bak.  "Expose Senator Dennix and remove our corrupted leaders. 
Unify the Confederation once again and end this ridiculous civil war.  Weaken
the Priman Commander and help Velk pave the way to new leadership that is more
receptive to a brokered solution to this war.  And to be honest, we get
everything we need out of that bargain regardless of how it works out for
Velk.  Maybe he gets back and manages to find a way to get the next Commander
put in place and it turns out he's been a man of his word; the Primans, under
new management, turn out to be more receptive to coexistence now that they've
seen what their little science experiments have turned out to be.  But worst
case, Velk dies.  We lose nothing.  Win-win for Confed, right there.  So, the
mission's on.  Web, you'll be part of a covert team going to Callidor to
attempt to retrieve the ring data on the senator."

"Callidor?" Web asked. 
"You mean the heavily fortified planet that's the command center for the
entire Priman invasion?"

"You got it," said Bak with a
grim smile.  "Velk will give us some data and emissions profiles that can
identify the purpose of a particular building.  Find the building that matches
that profile, and you've found a place that should have access to the ring
data.  We thought about sending you to another Keeper facility in that ship you
stole, but Velk surmised and we've confirmed that the locations we knew about
have all been abandoned or moved since your little escapade- you remember the
time where you ransacked one of those secret facilities and kidnapped Velk and
stole the DNA virus data?"

"Yes," Loren said with a
smile.  "I remember it fondly.  My only regret is that we didn't get to
blow up more of the place."

"Fondly?" asked Cory in shock. 
"That's the place where you blew out a compartment into vacuum and almost
died, if I remember correctly."

"Hey, you were all there to save
me," he said reasonably.

"And now the second operation,"
said Bak, more gravely this time.  Loren's curiosity was piqued.  "Loren,
I'm giving you orders to take back to Captain Elco for Avenger.  At the request
of Senator Dennix himself, Avenger is to conduct a diplomatic operation,
calling on several friendly powers throughout the galactic core area.  You're
to go to these places, establish contact and give them a briefing on the
current situation, then ask if they're interested in providing any kind of
support whatsoever.  Remind them that the Primans have already broken through
our little spiral arm into the core and beyond and are spreading like a
contagion."

Nobody said anything for a few
heartbeats. 

"What?" Loren finally said
shortly.  He looked at Cory and Merritt for support.  "You want us to go
shake hands all over the galaxy while the Primans are taking over bit by bit
here at home?"

Bak looked at Loren impassively, and
Loren couldn't tell what the man was getting at.

"You'd prefer this mission had more
meaning than that?" Bak asked conversationally.

"Yes," Loren replied
immediately.

"Ok, then," Bak replied with a
smile.  He spun his chair and tapped the wall monitor, bringing it to life.  It
showed an oblique map of most of the galaxy, with big splotches of color
highlighting Confed, Priman, and other major territories clear to the other
side of the galactic core.  There were a handful of yellow waypoints scattered
throughout the arms and core.  Admiral Bak tapped one and it became centered in
flashing brackets, mission information now scrolling up the right side of the
screen.

"You're going to go find out how
this galaxy defeated the Primans the first time, a thousand years ago."

Enric Shae smiled at Zek Dennix across
the Senator's huge desk as they picked at their working lunch.  The old fool
had no idea what was coming, and Shae reviled him all the more because of it. 
The old man should have had some inkling that things were in motion.

The truth was that Dennix was a feeble,
conflicted hack.  Shae didn't know why the old man was in charge, not really. 
The senator didn't know whether he wanted to save the Confederation, rule it as
his own, just reshape it to his liking, or maybe he just wanted the nice house
that came with the Governing Committee post.  But the man lacked direction, as
had been shown time and again.  He couldn't make the tough calls, and didn't
seem to know which way he was headed.  Enric saw that, and so did the Primans.

Enric Shae, on the other hand, knew
exactly what he wanted.  He wanted to be in control.  He wanted power- the
power to make the rules, to reward those who thought like him and punish those
that didn't.  He wanted to claim the best for himself and make sure that his
way was the only way.  There was nothing wrong with craving power; it was one
of the most basic needs of an evolved organism and it was society's arbitrarily
imposed rules that sought to demonize those who wanted to gather it for
themselves.  He wanted to never feel fear or impotence again, never be under
someone else's control.  He had
willed
himself into this position; his will and
actions were becoming one.  The path he had designed for himself was coming to
fruition, and it was all the more pleasurable since he knew it was his drive
that had taken him here.  He knew where his will was taking him: it was the
Confederation as seen by Enric Shae, the Confederation described and defined
according to his designs.  And it was about to start falling into place.

"Anything else?" Dennix was
asking as he dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a fine linen napkin.

"Yes, actually," Enric
replied.  "I received another communiqué this morning regarding our
arrangements within the various committees."

Dennix's face grew sour; he hated being
told how to run his own house, but Enric also reasoned that if he'd done a
satisfactory job in the first place the Primans wouldn't need to micro-manage
like this, either.

"They want another specific person
on the Governing Committee," Enric stated simply.

To his credit, Dennix didn't puff up and
bluster as he'd been known to do early on.  Used to be he'd get up, pace around
and rail about the injustice of it all and how the Primans didn't understand
how Confed needed to be run.  It seemed now he'd become more resigned to just
going with the flow.

"They realize the Committee is not
just a bunch of appointed friends, I assume?" Dennix had the resolve to
say.

"They know that," Enric began,
"but they also know there's plenty of precedent for it as well." 
While traditionally the Committee was made up of people who held other
government postings, it was not unheard of for senior officials to find a way
to get friends or those whom they owed favors to a seat at the big table. 
Committee appointees had to be confirmed by a majority vote of the Committee
itself, but since every last one of the current sitting members had been placed
there by Dennix and owed him something, confirmation was a foregone
conclusion.  Of course, the person ousted to make room for the newcomer would
probably take it badly, but those were the breaks in a government town.

"And who is the lucky person?"
Dennix asked sarcastically.

"Me," Enric said without pause.

"You?"

"Is that so wrong?" Enric asked
innocently.  "They want to do as much as they can to guarantee they have
the Committee locked up.  You're on it, and with me on it as well they take one
of the other unknowns out of the equation."  Enric spoke on for another
minute about the merits of having both of them on the Committee, but they both
knew what was really happening; Enric Shae was being set up as Dennix's
replacement, should it come to that.  If for some reason the Primans didn't
think Zek Dennix was working out for them, they'd need a new voice in Confed. 
What better person than Enric Shae?  He'd been the envoy who'd helped negotiate
the current truce, he was a Navy veteran, he had plenty of experience within
the current administration, and now he'd even be a member of the Governing
Committee.  Most of the average Confed citizenry didn't keep too close an eye
on the Committee itself; if some of the people on it swapped chairs he doubted
whether anyone would really notice.  Or care.  Either way, it worked for him.

"They're getting ready to replace me
if I don't perform for them," Dennix said darkly.  "The only question
is, how involved were you in this decision?"  The senator folded his
fingers together, hands on the desk in front of him.  Shae noticed that the
man's fingertips were turning red from the pressure; the Senator was squeezing
hard- maybe imagining Enric's neck between them?

"It's a fine line I have to
walk," Dennix continued slowly, studying the man across from him.  The
ungrateful bastard.  He'd found Enric Shae wallowing in career limbo on a navy
ship, brought him here and taught him how to direct his ambitions, and now the
man wanted to slide on by and take over.  But it wasn't that easy now, was it? 
Not with the Primans.

"What did they promise you?"
Dennix demanded softly.  "They told me we'd keep most of Confed intact. 
You've seen that's already not true.  They're pushing us back.  Did they
promise you complete control?  How many planets and systems will you get to
rule over?  We once had almost a thousand interests to watch out for, and
that's already been chopped down.  How many will keep you happy?  Fifty
planets?  A hundred?  What if it's only one?"  Dennix fired out the
questions, and every time Shae didn't respond he'd simply let loose another
one.