Opening Moves (43 page)

The outburst forced the room into an awkward silence. They were all career diplomats here, and even though they came from very different societies, none of them were used to dealing with those sorts of emotion. Mairwen recognized the importance of this moment. The fall of the Érenni Republics would open the door for the Ashani to come in and roll up the Pact. If they did not see that, then the war was already lost, and all of them were dead sentients walking.

Renod rose to his feet, his eyes blazing hotly. The Agama were one of the older races in the Pact, having been honed to withstand their home world's ferocious climate for thousands of years of recorded history before they made it into space. They were a strongly religious, stratified and principled society, much more homogenous than most others. If pushed too far they fought with a zealot's vigor. He looked Mairwen straight in her tear-filled eyes.

“
No.”

The frail Érenni female didn't respond. What could she have said in reply to that? With a single word her world was doomed.

Each of the other Pact members began to echo Renod, each refusing to help, to get involved to save one of their own. Some justified their response saying the Érenni would be safe, that the Ashani were satisfied with taking the colonies and wouldn't risk an assault on their home world. Some, like Renod, just refused and left.

When the commotion finally died down only the old Komerco politician still sat in his chair, his face dark with genuine sorrow as he faced the two holographic projections. “I am truly sorry that didn't go better.” His own voice sounded hollow to him.

“How can we tell them to do the right thing when we ourselves have ignored it for so long?” Mairwen whispered sadly in a broken tone. “We're in the same position the Aetu were two years ago, and now we know what it's like to be forsaken.”

Setiawan massaged the broad ridge of his nose with one of his four hands while the others unconsciously began to gather his belongings. “No, Mairwen. This is not over, not yet. I'll do what I can to convince my government to at least help. I appreciate what the Pact is
meant
to be and what it can do for all of us. And even if the others don't see or don't
want
to see it, I for one do recognize the danger the Dominion poses.”

“
Where the Komerco lead others might follow,” Gwythyr noted wearily. The past weeks, filled with one seemingly infinite string of terrible news and fiascoes, had sapped much of the strength from the old warrior. His heart didn't seem to truly believe what he had just said. They had stood at a crossroads and taken the wrong road. “If the three largest nations are at war, it just may be enough.”

“
They're scared,” Mairwen said. Softly.

“
They are spineless and short-sighted, like moles!” The Tuathaan growled. “A fleet of the Agama Hierarchy's navy or even a couple Rigaari flotillas could probably roll up the Dominion's flanks, or at least play merry hell with their supply chain.”

“
It doesn't matter,” the Érenni ambassador said with a tone of finality. Strangely enough the Pact's denial had given her something back. She no longer needed to grovel to them. Whatever happened to Mairwen now was one her terms. “Our time is nearly done. A scout ship dropped back into normspace half an hour ago with news that the Ashani fleet is on the move. They're coming to Akvô. It's quite possible this will be the last time you will ever talk to a representative of the Érenni Republics.” She shook her head. “I must go now. Remember what happens today, and try to do something about it.” Her hologram flickered, and then blanked out.

“
I also bid you farewell, Ambassador Setiawan. I must go and do my part to protect this world. I fear it'll be my last deed,” Gwythyr added solemnly.

His image disappeared, too, leaving Serrok Setiawan alone, his head resting heavily in his two upper arms' hands. His predecessors as ambassadors to the Pact had been rather paranoid about the power of the Tuathaan and Érenni, a rather superstitious notion if one thought about it. But it was that same paranoia which was now rife in the Pact. It lay beneath much of what had been uttered here today, so much so that in reality they could no longer consider themselves an alliance. Each of them had retreated back into their own little corners, unwilling to pool resources for a common good – because there was no common
ground
for a common
good
. What did a Rigaari and an Agama share, or a Komerco for that matter? The desire to live? That was an abstract goal, abstract because none of them were in immediate danger. And the arguments against an intervention would remain the same with every falling piece:
surely
the Dominion's forces were depleted
now
? It was the natural path to take, and Serrok felt, no, knew it would lead to their disaster. The Dominion hadn't just started this war on a whim. They wouldn't have tackled the Érenni and the Clanholds at the same time if they weren't convinced they could take them. And
if
they could...

He shuddered at the thought, for it meant the Ashani military build-up had far exceeded all of their projections. And it meant they could either fight together – or die alone.

The Pyramid, Chicago, North American Union, Earth.

It was often hard to tell Director William Campbell's mood. As a life-long intelligence expert he had come to guard his emotions and thoughts as well as he did the sources of his facts and figures. The East Coaster never displayed anything that was not minutely calculated to benefit his point of view or aid in convincing a recalcitrant politician or agent. For all intents and purposes, at the age of a hundred and twelve years, eighty-five of which he had spent with various intelligence services until his rise to the position of director, he was the dictionary definition of 'being in control'.

But today was different. It wasn't so much an open show of raw emotion that had put the rumor mill of the
Central Security Directorate
into full spin. It was Campbell's sudden bout of tunnel vision. Despite his guarded nature, he was usually polite and courteous to his subordinates, wishing good mornings and good afternoons, unwittingly observing each and every one who crossed his path on a normal day at the agency. Today he had just stormed into his office, ignoring everyone else, and his face hadn't been the placid semi-friendly mask he so often wore but a stony cold chiseled
something
that looked like the director.

As for the 'why', the prevailing theory had to do with the latest debate in the Congress and the growing Ashani situation. It didn't really register with most people as to why that could have riled Campbell the way it apparently had. The Dominion was half a galaxy away, and the CSD's main field of operations was with other human star nations. By god, there were enough of those to warrant sleepless nights...

Even Susan Smith had heard about her boss' outburst, and when the call came through to report to Campbell's office she knew what it would be about: the SECSTATE had managed to get his way with the President.

The entire population of the open floor plan of the office watched Smith exit the lift and walk towards the director's enclosed room. She felt herself being scrutinized by these agents, many of them with decades of field experience under their belts, weighing this nobody researcher from the dark corners of the Pyramid. Acutely aware of the attention, she tapped on the solid wooden doors.

“Come in,” Campbell answered to the noise. “And close the door behind you.”

Smith entered quickly, shutting out the piercing eyes behind her. “You asked for me, sir?”

Campbell's office was spacious and well furnished with a set of leather couches assembled in a square at one end of the room, and his desk at the other end beneath a window with a view of Lake Michigan. It was an illusion, of course, but a strikingly real one. The director's office sat at the center of the second 'step' of the Union tower's pyramid-like structure. It was probably more heavily shielded than the quarters of the President herself.

Campbell sat at the desk, a big, polished piece made from various precious woods, and gestured at the seat opposite him. “Sit down, Agent Smith. This is pretty important.”

The young woman pulled up a chair and kept a totally blank face, trying to pretend she had no idea what this was about. Susan could feel a hint of sweat on her back and beneath her armpits. She cleared her throat. “Did I do something, sir?”

“
Not yet,” Campbell answered evenly. “You're here because of your expertise. Of all the analysts on my staff you seem to be the one who knows most about the Ashani. That makes you my go-to address until the section on the Dominion's fully staffed.”

“
The Dominion, sir?” she raised an eyebrow. “Well, I've studied every available report I could get my hands on.”

“
Congress is getting jumpy about this invasion going on in Pact space,” Campbell explained with the barest hint of annoyance. “It seems certain elements in the Senate feel the Ashani are a clear and present danger to the Union's interests in the area, and they think we need to do something about it.”

“
I see,” Susan nodded, and she actually understood Campbell. As head of the Union's intelligence apparatus it was his task to detect dangers t before they actually became a problem. But he also had to keep a level head, and the whole brouhaha about the Dominion was just that: a whole lot of empty talk and people freaking out for no reason. The Ashani would have to expand four times as fast as the Rasenni did in their most aggressive phase, and even then it would take them a lifetime to even approach some territory settled by humans, let alone Union space.

“
Some want to help out the Érenni,” Campbell continued with a slight quiver of his mouth, “some want to engage in a bit of saber rattling, others are just plain nervous about the idea of an advanced and warlike race showing up on our doorstep.”

Smith cocked her head expectantly. Randolph had done exactly what he had said he would: sowing doubts and playing to fears among the more impressionable politicians. Ultimately, Susan didn't care for the SECSTATE's motives. She was in this for her career, not some lofty political ideals. Quite frankly, the whole political shit storm was kind of ridiculous, but it spoke of the power of the news cycle and of how easy people – even those elected to represent – were manipulated. She wondered what the Euros or the Alliance was making of all this. If she was in Chairman Zhou's position she would use the apparent political confusion in the Union's upper echelons to make a real job of some of the Alliance's claims out there. Nobody would even notice until it was too late...

“Now, the President doesn't want any part of it, and for the record, neither do I. This just isn't our war, and for what it's worth, our position will be one of compassion and neutrality. Unfortunately, this isn't enough for the Congress. They now want hard facts and have pressured the President into sending a reconnaissance team into the Pact's members' space to check out what's going on.”

Susan folded her hands in her lap. “That's understandable, sir. The old proverb is true:
Knowledge is power
.”

Campbell gave her an odd look, then went on. “Naturally, such a mission is risky. After all, it's not like we can just knock on the Dominion's door and ask just what their intentions are, is it?”

She chuckled. “No, sir. I'm rather convinced that may require something less direct.”

“
So, with your knowledge of the Ashani, what do you recommend we should do?”

Leaning back in her comfortable chair for a moment as if to gather her thoughts Susan found it hard to hide a smile. Things were coming together just the way she had hoped they would.
This was the moment she had waited for, prepared for. “If we want to get the maximum amount of data in the shortest time, we would have to send a stealth recon platform to the edge of the Érenni home system.”

“
A ship?” Campbell repeated flatly, not giving away any guesses. “You do realize, Miss Smith, that a stealth platform of the
Looking Glass
-type is among the most valuable recon assets this organization possesses, and that there's a limited number of them to begin with. We've been using the few active units to keep tabs on the Chinese and the Euros, and even then we've only got an imperfect picture. And I hope you do agree these two factions posit an incredibly higher risk to our national security than a congressional fad on the other side of the Orion Spur?”

She did. But that was beside the point, and she told him so. “A ship can react, sir.” Susan offered with a practiced shrug. “We can't send recon drones since we don't have the means to pick them up from an active battlefield. Anyway, if we did send drones we'd have to send a ship regardless, so my reasoning is to go in there with the best instruments we have. Gather as much data as possible, then slip out again.” She leaned forward, feeling more confident in her point. “A
Looking Glass
can spot trends in battle and focus its intelligence gathering on the most critical areas. A human crew in control will get us a lot more than an automated system, especially if we're talking about trained intel specialists.”

“
And also involves a much higher risk,” Campbell added coolly. “That far away from Union space there's a whole lot that could go wrong and blow the whistle on the recon platforms. The
Looking Glass
is top secret. If the Ashani manage to spot us we could not only lose one of our spy vessels, their whole existence would be revealed to the Euros and the Alliance and every indie system out there that we might want to keep tabs on.”