Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Turmoil (5 page)

Their quarry
destroyed, the Priman cruisers resumed their original places in orbit above the
planet.  Once you controlled the skies, the planet was at your mercy.

This time, Ravine
didn't have to even demand they answer the comms; there was a message waiting
for them.  It was another Qualin, though this one wasn't wearing the elaborate
formalwear that the former Governor had been dressed in.

"I am
Tzeuss," the Qualin began tiredly.  "What are your terms?"

Representative
Ravine was already mentally crossing the first world off her list of planets to
conquer.

"We're going to
need to find a way to restrict travel in some way if we're going to avoid a
wave of secessions," stated Enric Shae, senior assistant to Senator Dennix
and the only other person who knew about his relationship with the Primans. 
They were discussing the recent secession that Admiral Bak had been talking
about, and the implications were not good.  The planet in question hadn't even
joined another alliance; they'd chosen to simply exist independently, a true
slap in the face to the Confederation considering the Primans were snatching up
their outer planets left and right lately.

"We can make it
happen," Dennix assured him.  He was confident of his personal outlook
today, and had the casual air of someone who was carefree.  He leaned back in
the chair behind his oversized, ornate wooden desk, the place where he seemed
to spend most of his time these days.  Even the Governing Committee knew how
this game was to be played; they came to his office when decisions needed to be
made.  Everyone on that committee had newfound power to influence the
Confederation, and they all owed their places to him.  He wouldn't let them
forget it, either.  He had once hoped to consolidate power into a position of
President, something the Confederation had done away with long ago on the
grounds that one person in control of so many hundreds of planets and billions
of lives was not a great idea.  He'd settle for control over a docile committee
instead if the results were the same.

"The greater the
crisis, the more power we can claim," Dennix assured his accomplice. 
"They'll relinquish their rights in bits and pieces in return for the
promise of safety.  Most of the major news outlets will report favorably on our
policies; we'll just need to think of a legitimate sounding reason why we need
to regulate inter-system travel.  The real-world details, how it will affect
people on a daily basis, aren't important.  What we
tell
the people,
that's what is important.  And we'll have no more of these planets taking leave
of the Confederation, because I'll need us strongly united at home if we're
going to expand at the tail end of this invasion.  We just need to keep any
trouble makers busy," he finished, thinking chiefly about Avenger and
Admiral Nodam Bak.

"We also need
to keep Tana Starr in line," Shae observed.  He saw the look that Dennix
was giving him and explained.  "After she had Velk transferred to the
prison facility here on Delos, she began seeing him regularly.  None of the
guard shifts has noted anything about it in their logs, and I've taken pains to
keep those personnel rotated very often so nobody is there often enough to
notice her repeated visits.  But sooner or later, somebody will ask why an
advisor to the Senator who chairs the Governing Committee is spending so much
time with the prisoner.  She needs to keep a lower profile."

"I agree,"
allowed Dennix as he stared sullenly at his bare desktop, "but she still
has the upper hand and isn't afraid to remind me of that fact.  I'll tell her
again when I see her next that she is going to get noticed if she doesn't stop
seeing her comrade so often."

Chapter Three

Tana Starr would
have laughed if she'd heard Dennix and Shae conspiring to reign her in.  She
was a Priman, heirs to the dominance of this galaxy, and the two conspiring
politicians were members of a species that would still be banging rocks
together for entertainment if it hadn't been for her people.

Speaking of her
people, she had one in particular she was about to attend to.  She'd just
cleared security at the detention facility at the outskirts of the capital and
was making her way to the interrogation room where Representative Velk would be
waiting for her.  She had all the credentials, the overbearing attitude of a
government official, and wasn't entirely unaware of how she was using her
athletic form and prosthetically altered facial features to distract the
humanoid males.  At first she'd been worried that she was drawing too much
attention, but soon enough she'd realized that they were paying more attention
to her figure than the details of her visit.  If asked, they'd probably be able
to describe her silhouette but not offer any idea what her business was.

She waited at the
door to the interrogation room until the light on the locking pad by the
doorframe turned green.  She stepped into the room, which followed the
traditional design of such facilities in that it could have belonged to any
number of planets or species.

The walls were bare,
save for one that had a reflective surface.  Monitors of all kinds looked
through it at the detainee, who sat in an uncomfortable chair at a bare metal
table.  The lighting was too bright, but could be changed to any level that
might upset the detainee.  The temperature, as was typical, was a bit too
warm.  It was up to the investigator to offer to turn down the temperature and
make the 'guest' more comfortable, an act designed to show that the
investigator had the detainee's best interests in mind and wasn't such a bad
person after all.

She knew Velk would
weather these games as a simple point of pride, so she didn't offer to change
the conditions when he was brought in.  He sat at the table, and she did the
same on the opposite side.  She tapped the ring on her right index finger, a
duplicate to the ring on her other hand which masked her Priman physiology to
casual scans, and the small scrambler inside activated, guaranteeing that
nothing would be recorded.  She had ordered all such devices deactivated
anyway, but caution was standard procedure in her line of work. 

"Agent
Starr," began Velk with a courteous nod.

"Representative
Velk," she replied in the same neutral manner.  "I have news today
which affects you."

Velk's expression
didn't change.  He'd been Commander too long, was simply too good at
controlling himself, to show anything.  She continued.

"Our visits
here will come to an end soon," she said.  "While having access to
you is agreeable, it is not ideal.  There is a concern that sooner or later the
Confederation scientists might adapt one of their interrogation drugs to our
physiology and you could be compromised.  There is also the simple fact that it
is embarrassing to have to let them keep you caged up here.  Soon, we will
arrange for your escape.  We plan to keep you on-planet for as short a time as
possible, and then return you to Priman space."  She watched to see what
his reaction would be.

"That is good
news," he agreed, face still an impenetrable mask.  "Is there
anything I should do to prepare?"

"Not as
such," she replied.  "I will try to give you some notice, but all you
will have to do is wait for our team to appear.  You will know it is
them."

That was all that
needed to be said.  Primans were straight-to-the-point types, so Tana Starr
didn't linger much after the news was delivered.

She walked out of
the building and strolled to her favorite cafe near the capital district.  It
was late enough in the morning that she ordered a light lunch, selecting a few
of the items on the menu which agreed with her Priman tastes.  There was one
significant portion of the briefing she'd given Velk that he wouldn't know: his
ultimate destination in Priman territory.

Velk had been a
peerless military commander, leading his people through the final preparations
and into the opening months of the invasion.  Tactically speaking, he was among
the best the Primans had to offer.  Politically, though, he was out of his
depth.  While the Priman culture didn't play the political game the same way as
the humanoids of this part of the galaxy did, there were still moves that
needed to be made occasionally, and Velk hadn't kept up.  There were other,
hungrier Primans behind him who were willing to do more to ensure victory. 
Primans who weren't as adept at combat, but excelled at power-gathering and
building shadowy alliances.  Primans like Commander Tash.

He had known Tana
Starr since they'd been children, and as he'd solidified his power and
maneuvered himself into early promotion to Commander with Terir's help, he had
taken with him only lifelong friends whom he felt he could trust.  They also
had to have the same ideology as him, which was where he and Velk differed. 
Where Velk had never been shy about admitting that the inhabitants of this
galaxy would somehow be made to see the light and join with their Priman
benefactors, Tash was just as open about his promise to win by any means
necessary, even if it meant eradicating everyone in the galaxy who opposed them
and finding some new primitives whose civilizations his people could steer
along.  The Council's attitudes as of late leaned towards Tash's point of view,
and he'd taken advantage of it. 

The only sticking
point was Velk.  He was respected by many, even those who didn't share his
point of view.  He wasn't afraid to voice a dissenting opinion, but in the end
always followed orders.  If he was able to rally enough support for some sort
of settlement or coexistence with the lesser species, there was the chance Tash
would be forced to adopt that position by the Council, and he was not about to
settle for that.  These lower species had cast his ancestors from the galaxy
itself, doomed to roam the emptiness beyond the last stars in cobbled-together
deathtraps.  It had taken his people nearly a thousand years to recover,
rebuild and return, and he would accept nothing less than victory on his own
terms.  That meant Velk couldn't be allowed to return to Priman space.

He had officially
delegated Starr to deal with the matter, in whatever form she saw fit, and he
had made it clear that he needed no details; he simply wanted to be told that
he wouldn't see Velk again. 

Starr still hadn't
decided what she should do about Velk.  First order of business was to break
him out as soon as possible.  She had a team making their way to Delos to set
up a safehouse and help her with the operation.  She'd make the next call from
there.

She returned to her
lunch, the prospect of subversively keeping the former Commander of her people
detained not bothersome enough to ruin her meal.

Avenger had been in
hyperspace for three days, running at three quarters of her top speed.  Captain
Elco had been taking it easy on his ship, determined to baby the vessel as long
as possible after all the time she'd spent in drydock.

He stood up from his
chair and walked his bridge, first turning around to head to the sensor and
weapons stations in the aft.  With a slightly lower ceiling and walled in on
the sides by glass that also had data projected in it, the 'sensor shack' felt
like its own little  domain, with the captain and XO having the most direct
access.  From there he walked forward and took a step down to the navigation
and control consoles.  Beyond a railing from there was the main holo field
generator and a traditional viewscreen; he proceeded down two more stairs to
the port side and the main console there; communications and data management. 
He was about to turn back to the navigation station and ask about Avenger's
time until reversion to realspace, but was beaten to it by the crewwoman there.

"Reversion in
ten seconds, Captain," she alerted him briskly.  A ten-count later, and
Elco watched the forward viewscreen spring to life, providing the view ahead of
his ship, while the holo field began populating with sensor data.  A planet
sprang to life in the slightly shimmering field, followed by Avenger, the
battleship Majestic, and the cruiser Cobalt.  Soon there also appeared all the
traffic normally associated with a planet; orbitals such as space stations and
factories, inbound and outbound traffic, and the like.

"All ships in
formation, status nominal," reported the crewman at the communications
station.

"Excellent,"
Elco began.  "Comms, contact Traffic Control and ask for our inbound
vector.  Let's hope that the diplomats made the proper arrangements." 
This diplomatic mission would get off to a very rocky start if nobody had told
the Lemurians they were coming and their first indication of a visit from the
Confederation was three warships entering the system.

"Response,
Captain," the comms officer replied.  "Traffic Control has assigned
us a standard orbit slot for the formation.  Contact information has been
provided to use when we've inserted."

"Efficient, as
you'd expect," Elco said approvingly.  The Drisk could always be counted
on to run a tight ship.  "I'm going to head down to talk to the XO in C3. 
Navigation, you have the conn."

"Aye,
sir."

Loren heard
footsteps in the port side stairwell.  It was connected to the escape trunks,
and was as utilitarian as the designers could have made the space.  As a
result, the steps were narrow and featured no extra reinforcing or
soundproofing.  Nobody would ever sneak down one of those stairwells.  From the
slow and somewhat hesitant pace being set by the owner of those footsteps, he
guessed it was the captain.

Captain Elco
appeared out of the hatch and made his way through the chamber to the raised
platform where Loren and his second, Lieutenant Commander Sarria Mastruk, ran
the C3 room.  It was the heart of combat operations for the ship, a heavily
armored fortress where the main laser batteries, point defense and anti-fighter
weapons, torpedoes, and fighters were all controlled.

Loren threw a salute
to Elco, who returned the gesture.

"Good news,
Loren," Elco began.

"Every Priman
just self-combusted?" Loren asked hopefully.

"Ok, let me make
that
fairly
good news," Elco corrected.  "We'll be in our
orbit in fifteen minutes or so, and from there I'll be contacting the surface. 
Assuming preparations were made, we'll be coordinating a visit to the surface. 
You and I will both be going."

Loren looked
puzzled. 

"This is a
meeting slanted to diplomacy," Elco began, "and there's a
time-honored tradition for how these things work.  The head honchos meet, shake
hands, and tell each other what a nice person they think the other guy is. 
We'll gloss over the real business, then it's off to a busy schedule of photo
ops and meetings, followed by a dinner.  At some point in the day, the aides to
the Really Important People," Elco smiled and pointed at himself while
talking about the important people and Loren while talking about the aides,
"get the actual work done, so that when the Important People meet again we
both know what we can offer and accept.  Negotiating takes place by you and
whomever is the equivalent of you down there.  We're not here to sell them a
treaty, but anything of importance they have to say or offer will be said to
you."

"Well, I'm not
sure if that makes me feel special or insulted," Loren replied with a
grin.

"You'll wish
you were up here, trust me," Elco replied.  "I'm going to have Cobalt
set up an outer-system picket and drop some probes after coordinating with the
Lemurian forces, of which there are pitifully few.  Majestic will stay in the
highest orbit the locals will let us have, and Avenger will sit a bit lower so
we can shuttle back and forth to the surface easier."  Elco looked at
Mastruk and continued.  "You'll get to run things around here without
Loren in the way for a few days, Lieutenant Commander."

"Finally,"
she replied with a wink at Loren.

Loren adjusted his
dress uniform as he looked at himself in the mirror again.  It was something
about that high collar, the way it stood up and rubbed his neck if he turned
his head the wrong way.  The damn uniforms were full of supposedly important
symbolism to all three of the Confederation's founding member species; Human,
Drisk, and Qualin.  The annoying shoulder boards were supposedly from the Trin,
who while not founding members were one of the anchor species of Confed.

Loren realized that
what he really wanted was Cassie to adjust everything one last time and tell
him he looked presentable.  After spending most of the war with her life in
mortal danger, he thought it would be enough just to know she was safe again,
but that wasn't the case; he just missed her that much more.  The problem was,
they both knew that he was not only good at his job, but wouldn't be able to
live with himself if he wasn't doing his part to drive the Primans out of the
Confederation's territory.

With a resigned
sigh, he checked the ribbons on his chest one more time and headed towards the
hatch to leave his quarters.  He turned off the lights, brushed his hand
against his low-riding hip holster to confirm the strap was secured, and opened
the hatch. 

It only took a few
minutes to reach the hangar for the Vipers, his former squadron.  He watched
with longing as a flight of two Talon fighters spotted for launch, then were
alternately pushed and then pulled from the hangar by the launch tractor
projectors.