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Authors: Brian Herbert

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The edge of the blast zone was an appropriately dramatic place to meet the old warhorse. Riomini wanted to hear the Commodore's explanation of his latest outrageous failure, and he also wanted to show him up close what Michella Duchenet had done—just to ensure the man's loyalty—although Percival Hallholme had also seen firsthand the old Diadem's irrational and destructive decisions. No, this man was not likely to profess ill-considered loyalty to someone like that.

To gauge his own popularity, Riomini had dispatched thousands of government workers to canvas the city, asking probative questions. He actually let people criticize him, without threat of reprisals, but he drew a bright red line at allowing the formation of active opposition groups. Regardless, it was apparent that he was much better liked than Michella had been. He realized that he might even have been able to win the Star Throne without his private military force, but did not regret for a moment how he had claimed his title.

He suspected that the most outspoken people were Adolphus loyalists anyway. With the ouster of Michella Duchenet, they had expected the entire convoluted system to change, which was foolish and unrealistic. They had been aligning themselves with powerful nobles in the Constellation who sensed weakness in his own rule, despite the size of his private military. Thus far, Riomini's spies had produced the names of only three such nobles, but even that small number enraged him. Right now all three were being interrogated.

He had also set up a separate, lower court system to deal with the constant stream of dissenters being picked up by his secret police. Each would be found guilty as a matter of course, but so far he had not imposed executions because he didn't want to be seen as a tyrant. For the time being, they would all be shipped off to incarceration on Ogg or Barassa. He could deal with them later.

Right now, while awaiting Commodore Hallholme's arrival, the excruciatingly slim Anson Tebias spoke with the woman Riomini had appointed to run the interim spaceport, along with a burly contractor who was supervising the cleanup operations.

Riomini heard a smooth engine noise, and looked up to see a Constellation military flyer in a steep descent, landing nearby on the temporary field. Moments later, the grizzled old commander was escorted into the Diadem's presence. Commodore Hallholme moved slowly, hobbling from his chronic, degenerative condition. The medals on the front of his gold-and-black uniform did not shine as usual, and the uniform shirt was soiled and wrinkled.

With a grim expression, the old man gave a crisp salute. “I apologize for my appearance, sir, but I received word that you wanted to see me immediately.” He smoothed his bushy sideburns, then stood at attention. His gray eyes seemed more watery and tired than usual. “My congratulations on your new position. Strong leadership is sorely needed in this crisis.”

“These are extraordinary times for the Constellation, and I require my best military minds.” Riomini did not mention the man's failures, and instead pointed out the wreckage of the spaceport.

Hallholme nodded, said that he had seen the extent of devastation as his shuttle came from the stringline hub, and then he frowned. “I am afraid I must add to your burdens, Eminence. After a major space battle, General Adolphus has recaptured Tehila, and thus removed our only way into the DZ stringline network. I lost many of my ships, and now the Army of the Constellation no longer has access into the Deep Zone.”

Riomini scowled, but he had already received the basic report and burned out most of his anger in the past two hours. Commodore Hallholme had to go through this humiliating charade and would no doubt offer his resignation, again. But Riomini wouldn't let him—he had other plans. Fortunately, the summary showed that the new shielding had proved at least partially effective against the alien telekinetic assault. And he had another option that no one suspected.

As the old Commodore reached into his uniform blouse and withdrew a folded document—his letter of resignation, as expected—Riomini harshly told him to put it away. “We have no time for this. You were ordered to defeat General Adolphus and recapture the Deep Zone. I still expect you to do it.”

“Eminence, I have lost half of my fleet. The lack of ships does not leave me with a viable battle plan.”

Riomini cut him off. “Fortunately, it's not a complete disaster. While you were gone, I made other arrangements of my own. Tehila was not the only weak spot in the General's unraveling web. Hossetea demonstrated that as well, but Adolphus doesn't realize how widespread the discontent is. I, however,
do
.” A scheming smile crept across his face. Riomini knew he had to strike now while the Commodore was stinging and angry—and when Adolphus would least expect a new gaping vulnerability. “Yet another world has turned against him, and the General is still unaware of it. We have a window of opportunity that we dare not waste.”

Hallholme was clearly surprised. “An interesting development, Eminence, but I don't have a sufficient military force to bring to bear against General Adolphus, even with the element of surprise.”

Again, Riomini smiled. “But I have many more ships than you know about—an entire private fleet I constructed on Qiorfu. They are ready to fly.”

The Commodore stood stiff and formal, but he was clearly reeling. “On … Qiorfu? And I was not aware of this?”

“At the Lubis Plain industrial zone, begun years ago with the assistance of your son. You were retired at the time, tending your vineyards, and I swore him to secrecy.”

The old Commodore sighed, clearly wishing he could just go back there.

Riomini kept him focused. “If you depart immediately on this new offensive, I will grant you fifty more top-of-the-line warships, fully shielded and with more firepower than you've ever had. The question is, are you ready to destroy our nemesis, once and for all?”

Commodore Hallholme didn't hesitate. “Yes, Eminence. I appreciate the new chance.”

“I've stopped counting the number of chances you've had, but I assure you this is the last one.”

In spite of the veiled threat, the Commodore managed a grim smile. “It's beautiful on Qiorfu at this time of year. It'll be nice to finish this so I can retire there. For the second time.” He drew a breath. “And I will get my son back. We
can
defeat the rebels, Eminence. We
will
defeat them.”

“Yes, Commodore, you will.” With the unrest brewing in the Crown Jewels, Riomini had to achieve a golden victory. Afterward, no one would question his legitimacy. “Strike fast, strike hard, Commodore.”

Hallholme saluted crisply, then rushed back to his flagship to begin preparations.

 

45

In the aftermath of the liberation of Tehila, General Adolphus felt energized, pleased, and confident. This had been an uncontested defeat of Commodore Hallholme. How many more were necessary to make up for losing the Battle of Sonjeera?

Some of the Commodore's damaged ships remained helpless in orbit above Tehila. They had been left behind, stranded when they could not get aboard the lone retreating stringline hauler. Lodo and the shadow-Xayans rendered the enemy weapons inert and targeted their engines so they could not escape.

Adolphus's fleet quickly surrounded and captured those vessels; the Constellation crews would be detained in the former refugee camps down on Tehila—Tanja Hu had pointed out that so much security shouldn't be allowed to go to waste. As the DZDF forces shuttled officers and crew down under heavy guard, Adolphus directed mop-up operations from the
Jacob
. He summoned Tanja Hu, Ian Walfor, and Lewis Naridar to his ready room.

“Tehila has already proved to be a vulnerable spot, General,” said Naridar. “We don't dare let down our guard. We need to leave a significant defensive force here.”

“And we just gave the Constellation a black eye,” Walfor said. “Tehila will be seen as a symbol, and Commodore Hallholme will want it back.”

“I say cut the stringline,” Tanja said. “I've said that all along. Perfect security results from perfect isolation. Cut all the lines into the Crown Jewels, and the enemy forces can't get to us.”

Adolphus was troubled. “That seems like giving up. It's much easier to sever an iperion path than to reestablish one—especially until we find a new source of iperion.”

Walfor shook his head. “With Candela destroyed, we barely have enough stockpiled iperion to maintain our existing stringlines for a year or two. Unless we find another supply, those routes will dissipate and we'll be isolated—from the Crown Jewels and from one another—whether or not you cut the lines intentionally.”

Tanja clenched her fists. “I'm glad to know the old bitch Michella has been ousted on Sonjeera, but Lord Riomini is no better. Ian and I saw firsthand what that monster did to Theser, so we know what he's capable of.”

Adolphus reached his decision. “I don't like to keep isolating Deep Zone worlds, but we still have plenty of viable paths to Sonjeera. Cutting off this one, though, will make a statement—a necessary statement.” He nodded and spoke to Captain Naridar. “See that the terminus ring to the Crown Jewels is destroyed. It's the only way to be sure.”

Naridar smiled. “My pleasure, sir.”

The General dispatched Tanja and Walfor to the surface to help manage the ground operations, while he studied assessments and inventories from the
Jacob
. His own losses were more than made up for by the eleven battered Constellation vessels they had seized, as well as hundreds more enemy ships destroyed. Adolphus personally thanked the civilian captains and promised he would make up for their monetary losses threefold.

He thought about Sophie. He depended on her so much, and now she was holding the former Diadem Michella hostage, albeit a now-useless hostage. He felt stronger knowing he could rely on Sophie even though they were solar systems apart.

But he was anxious to bring all these warships back to Hellhole. He felt uneasy leaving the central DZ stringline hub vulnerable since so much of the DZDF had been brought for the liberation of Tehila. Fortunately, George Komun's ships would also be arriving soon for added security.

He knew, though, that he couldn't just withdraw his fleet and leave Tehila unprotected. After liberating the unruly world, if he left the Tehila settlers and refugees to pick up the pieces—without support or defenses—the resulting turmoil might create a civil war. He needed to leave a significant monitoring force here.

He decided to leave Captain Naridar's fifteen peacekeeping ships—which he had intended to send on a patrol throughout the Deep Zone. They were needed here, at least for the next month or so, as security. He drew up the orders and assigned the veteran captain to monitor the transition on Tehila.

The following day, Ian Walfor transmitted a report to the
Jacob
. “General, we've rounded up the former militia members and imposed a curfew, but the worst part is over. The colonists are still celebrating—I think it would be good if you came down and made an appearance.”

“You mean a victory parade,” Adolphus said.

Tanja Hu appeared on the screen. “Why not, sir? You deserve it.”

Adolphus pondered, then agreed. “It'll be good for reunification, but I do need to return to Hellhole soon. I have more important things to do.”

He shuttled down to the spaceport, which had been cleared of Constellation military vessels. Fuel supplies had been released, and the impounded ships were returned to their owners. Adolphus had already announced that normal space traffic to the Hellhole stringline hub, and throughout the Deep Zone, would resume within two days.

Tanja and Walfor met him at the spaceport, along with cheering crowds—Candela refugees as well as Tehila supporters who loathed the idea of returning to the repressive Constellation. They smiled and applauded now, but he wasn't naïve enough to think that none of these people had supported the breakaway, at least tacitly.

“What do we do about Administrator Reming? He deserves punishment, but I won't be seen as a tyrant,” Adolphus said as they left the spaceport and made their way to the governmental headquarters. He had only met the man once before, when he seemed to be adhering to the rule of law. “The people here should decide his fate.”

Walfor and Tanja looked at each other, then away. “About that, General—” They approached the government mansion.

He recognized Reming even with his swollen face and blackened skin. The man had been strung up on a makeshift gibbet outside the headquarters mansion. An ancient but effective form of execution, both a demonstration and a warning. The people here had never wanted his purge, did not support the return of the Constellation; yes, they had made that perfectly evident.

Tanja did not sound overly disturbed. “I'd say the people have already made their own decision.”

Adolphus felt a wash of anger and disappointment, then resignation. “And the other militia leaders? The coconspirators who arranged the purge?”

“Executed as well,” Walfor said, “but in a less dramatic fashion. It was a swift and complete housecleaning. Now Tehila can be stable again. All of your own loyalists have been freed.”

The mysterious walumps had moved into the town and erected mud huts not far from the administrator's mansion. As always, they remained aloof, choosing not to interact with anyone, although they did show a certain curiosity about the hanged man, before continuing about their business.

Adolphus felt uneasy, though. Remembering the unrest on Hossetea that Captain Naridar had thwarted, he was concerned for the stability of the Deep Zone. One brushfire was occurring after another. If he could remove the Constellation threat and help the Xayans achieve
ala'ru
—which he hoped would also eliminate the concerns about the Ro-Xayans—then he could focus on shoring up normalcy throughout the independent worlds. So many moving parts …

BOOK: Hellhole Inferno
4.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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