Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Turmoil (8 page)

Avenger was a ship
of war who'd earned her scars in battle, and it showed as Loren traveled
through her.  There were corridors where the paint color was just slightly
different, the fittings a little newer and shinier, where major damage had
occurred.  He passed by one of the main laser battery mounts; the turret itself
was shiny and new, but the surrounding bulkheads were patched and looked like
repairs had been made underway.  That entire battery had been destroyed in
their last action, and they'd lost much of the small gun crew who manned it,
maintained it, and fired it manually if need be.

He finally got to
the hangar levels at the bottom of the ship and made his way to the CAG's quarters. 
When he'd been CAG and before moving to the XO's quarters, Loren had lived in
this space, and it brought back a flood of memories, most of them pleasant. 
Though Cory had office space in the hangar areas, she rarely did much business
there, preferring to operate away from the hustle of the hangar.  It helped her
detach from those duties a bit so she could concentrate on the task at hand,
and if she had to meet with one of her pilots or other subordinates she'd found
that the less formal atmosphere at her desk in the CAG's quarters tended to
help take the edge off a little bit. 

He tapped the button
on the doorframe to send a call request.

"Captain
Sosus," came the brisk reply a second later.

"It's the
Priman Commander," Loren began in a false deep voice, "I'd like to
surrender."

"That's great
news," Cory replied cheerfully.  "Come on in so I can smack you
around first."  The door chirped and unlocked, sliding into the bulkhead
so Loren could enter.

He found Cory at a
small desk on the outer bulkhead, the same one he'd spent so much time at.  She
looked up and smiled at him, then got up to greet him.

"Love what
you've done with the place, Cory," Loren began with a smile as she
rearranged the two chairs in front of her desk and indicated Loren could take a
seat.  She sat across from him in the other chair and waited for him to
continue.

"You dirtied up
the place pretty well, Loren," she said with a grin and she swept her gaze
over her quarters.  Actually, her and Merritt's quarters.  "I doubt you
got your deposit back."

"I told them to
put it on my tab," Loren replied.  He heard some noise from the small
bathroom and looked at Cory.  "Merritt's around?"

She nodded.

"So how's the
honeymoon going?"

"Well,"
she began with false exasperation, "we didn't get to see much, and then
there was this slave-driver of a captain who said we had to get back aboard
because the ship was leaving..."

"Like you'd
allow yourself to be left out of a fight," Loren countered.

"How well you
know me," Cory replied.  "Merritt's headed back to the hangar to get
the Vipers all checked out for action.  You know, now I can order him to do
things to me, uh, I mean
for
me, as both his CAG and his wife.  It's a
win-win."

Loren made a
horrified face.  "I just got a partial visual of Merritt, and it will
haunt me forever, you know that."

"I heard
that," called Merritt from through the bedroom, and a few seconds later he
emerged dressed in his flight suit.

"I'm still
sending you the bill for my therapy," Loren said as he got up to shake
Merritt's outstretched hand.  He indicated the seat he'd just vacated, and
Merritt took it.  "In any case, I have something that will keep you two
busy for a while."  He retrieved a small data chip from one of the breast
pockets of his uniform and passed it to Cory.  "Overall, the government
down there is still quiet about its official position on this whole Priman
invasion mess, but before we left the surface the Lemurian military requested
some joint training exercises with us.  They have a half dozen destroyers
in-system, probably a generation or so behind our own Pulsar class, but it's
all they've ever needed for pirates and local criminals.  There's a few
squadrons of fighters as well, but they're all surface based, both on-planet
and on their moon.  That chip has all the data and some maneuvering
strategies.  I'd like you to get something put together for the fighters; the
Captain and I will be getting a plan together for their fleet."

"So we don't
know if they're going to fight, surrender, or evac?" Merritt asked.

"I'm really not
sure," Loren admitted.  "At this point, maybe a little of
everything.   Captain Elco put in a call to stage the transports Confed has
offered to a few hours' distance outside the system.  If people start asking to
leave, we can help them pretty quickly.  The hang-up is how much people can
take with them.  Anybody with a Galactic Bank account can get their money anywhere,
so personal wealth isn
’
t a
big problem, but of course people really can't take much in the way of material
possessions.  With the planet's population, we're looking at fifty round trips
for each full load of twenty transports.  About a two day round trip from here
to the planet we've been using to stage displaced persons, and we're talking
three months to evac the planet before accounting for private ships, space
liners, corporate cargo haulers, that sort of thing, which will help draw those
numbers down."

"They'll never
make it," Merritt said softly.  "Where's this planet you were talking
about?"

"Some rock we
catalogued a decade ago but nobody felt the need to settle," Loren
admitted.  "There's a few mining companies there, and it's a little on the
cold side, but there's a big orbital station and plenty of space, so we've set
up a processing point and are building housing as fast as we can.  People from
all over the Confederation and even a Talaran world are heading there if they
can't get to their homes anymore.  Most of them leave pretty quickly, and the
place isn't set up for long term housing; there's no real independent
government there, just Confed military and those private corporations.  But
it's better than being forced into a Priman labor camp and they're free to go
when they have a place to head for."

"So what can we
do?" asked Cory, back to business.

"We can figure
out how to buy the Lemurians some time if they want the help when Primans come
calling," Loren stated firmly.

Chapter Four

Tana Starr waited
impatiently in the cafe where she often took her meals.  She was good enough at
her tradecraft to at least not
look
impatient, however.  The server
stopped by to refresh her stim-caf while she finished off the last few
spoonfuls of her soup.  It was a beautiful day out; the sun was shining but
once in a while briefly obscured by puffy mid-level summer clouds, the
temperature was just right for wearing a light coat, and there was just enough
of a breeze to keep the air moving.  The conditions were favorable to her not
because she enjoyed the comforts; having grown up on a huge mothership in deep
space, she was accustomed to the recycled air of a starship and the harsh
artificial light provided by the fixtures within.  No, she was pleased with the
conditions because they allowed her to sit in the outdoor portion of the cafe
where she could better keep an eye on the street.  The spindly metal tables
were also spaced farther apart than indoors, and that combined with the noise
of hovercars, street and foot traffic made attempts at surveillance much more
daunting.

"Tana,"
she heard a friendly voice say from behind her, "is that you?"

She turned to regard
the young man standing just a few steps away from her.  Face lighting up in
surprise, she got up and took a step over to give the man a hug.  "Of
course it is, Salvor."  She pointed at the chair opposite hers.  "Have
a seat."

Salvor, a Drisk male
who appeared to be in his late twenties, took the offered chair.  He was tall,
with dark slicked-back hair and fashionable business clothes.  The server had
noticed the new arrival and appeared with a glass of water and menu as soon as
the young man was seated, then was discrete enough to leave them to their
conversation.

"It's so nice
to see you again," Tana said brightly, acting as if Salvor was a long-lost
friend.  That was not quite the case. 

Salvor took his comm
device from his pocket as set it on the table next to his place setting, then
nodded at Tana.  "We are secure," he said softly.

"Monitoring
this location would prove difficult even before your scrambler was
active," she stated.  "We must speak quietly, but we can speak
relatively in the clear.  We are just two among countless people that meet here
for a meal and drinks."

Salvor nodded, for
while he was used to working under cover, he was not trained to act so openly
as Tana Starr.  He was a covert operative, trained to do the less pleasant
aspects of the missions his comrades like Tana set in motion.  His comm device
contained a field scrambler that would dampen their voices outside of a few
feet so the people at the table next to them wouldn't be able to hear, a common
device employed by many of the people who worked in the city centered on
running the Confederation government.  If Tana said they could speak mostly in
the clear, he'd take her word on it.

"My team has
finished assembling," he began.  "We've arrived in singles and pairs
over the last two days and have settled in the safehouse you purchased."

"I don't want
to know what you
’
re doing
yet," she interrupted.  "I trust you know your business, so there's
no need for you to tell me." 

Salvor just nodded
and continued.  "We have a dozen of us, and we brought weapons of Drisk
manufacture.  We'll begin scouting routes and alternate locations today.  We
brought enough funds to operate for a few weeks; any longer and we'll need an
infusion.  Are there any updates to the timetable?"

"Not as of
now," she replied, her face a mask as she concealed her thoughts from the
other Priman.  He and his team had been sent to Delos to conduct a retrieval
operation; to kidnap or otherwise capture somebody and remove them from the
planet.  All they knew was that they'd get their exact tasking when Tana Starr
gave it to them, but she'd offered enough for them to get started.  They were
scouting the detention facility at the edge of the capital city.  They knew
there was somebody there they'd be required to grab, then hold in the city
until an extraction was arranged.  Being the seat of the Confederation, it
wasn't as though they'd just be able to grab somebody and spirit them
off-planet; once they'd recovered their target, more than likely they'd have to
sit for a few days or even weeks until a proper extraction or better hiding
location could be arranged.  Either way was fine with Salvor; he was serving
his people in the best way he knew how.

What Tana couldn't
tell him just yet was that he was going to be breaking Representative Velk out
of the detention facility, and that it probably wouldn't be easy.  Despite
their Drisk prosthetics and convincing ID packages, there was no way they'd be
able to bluff their way into the building.  Tana was working on a way to
re-arrrange the staffing levels to make it as easy as possible to get to the
Representative, but that was still going to take a few days.  She also didn't
tell Salvor the next step in the process; that Velk wouldn't be going back to
Priman space.  She hadn't yet received any new orders from the Commander, but
she knew Tash wasn't going to risk having Velk back among potential supporters
in Priman territory.  In order to keep hold on his position of Commander and
keep the Council convinced his campaign of eradication was the best course of
action, he couldn't risk Velk's presence.  It troubled Tana just a bit that she
could very well be sending Representative Velk to a death sentence, but in the
end if that's what best served the needs of her people then she would
understand.  She hoped Velk would, as well.

That afternoon, Tana
Starr was walking with Enric Shae to Senator Dennix's office.  This was going
to be a very busy day for her, because Salvor had passed her a very interesting
message from the Commander himself; the Primans were going to make a treaty
overture to the Confederation, and Dennix was going to accept.  Now they just
needed to inform the senator of that fact.

"So this will
be big news, then?" asked Shae as they cleared the last security
checkpoint on their way to the senator's office.

"Incredibly,"
she replied, "and you'll have a part to play in it."  She turned to
catch his reaction; she needed to determine Shae's true loyalties.  The
Commander had made it clear that the Primans would have their own chosen puppet
in charge of the Confederation, and if Senator Dennix at some point decided to
not cooperate, they were prepared to help Shae make a bid for power or at the
very least maintain his current position.  That was, of course, if Shae seemed
pliable enough in his convictions to make such a plan possible.  There had
initially been talk of replacing Dennix with a Priman in prosthetics, but any
random thorough DNA scan would reveal the truth, so they'd have to depend on
turncoats and accomplices for the time being. 

They arrived at the
senator's door and Shae knocked, receiving a summons from the senator a
heartbeat later.  As Shae and Starr walked through the doors and down the deep
maroon carpet runner to Dennix's desk, a trio of other senators on the
Governing Committee were just getting up to leave.  They showed no emotion
towards her and Shae; Starr wondered if they ever craved the power the senator
held, and how long he'd be able to keep it uncontested.

"Ms. Starr,
Enric," Dennix began as he got up from his desk to greet them.  She knew
he wouldn't have extended the courtesy if it was just her, but the senator had
a soft spot for his underling.

Without preamble, as
was her style, Tana got right down to business.  "I have news from the
Commander, Senator," she began as the man resumed his seat.  He appeared
unconcerned, or at least gave that appearance as he began shuffling data cards
and some hardcopy printouts.

"Mmm," he
said, most likely trying to make the point to her that he was a busy man.  She
would enjoy the look on his face when she broke the news.

"This
afternoon, you will receive an official communication from my people.  It will
contain an offer for a nonaggression pact which will keep our people from having
to fight each other."  As she paused for breath, he took the chance to
interrupt.

"What?" he
said in surprise.  "You're going to offer a treaty?"

"Yes, and you
will accept it with open arms and an appropriate speech about cooperation and
tolerance."

He looked startled,
data cards and makework completely forgotten as he tried to wrap his brain
around the implications of this news.  What would it mean for him, and how
would he deal with it?

"The idea, of
course," she continued, "is to prop up your standing as you deal with
the situation.  This also buys us time to push on to other areas of interest
and not have to tie down significant numbers of units to deal with the
Confederation.  We avoid having to lose ships and personnel fighting you, since
we'll declare a cease-fire for the armistice talks."

"Which won't be
real, of course," Dennix said darkly.

"To a point,
they will.  We
do
want a cease-fire, but you and I know that eventually
we will return and take control with you as our governor; that's our arrangement. 
We'll see what sort of terms to use when the time comes, but you'll get credit
for a bloodless transition as we merge our peoples together."

"Except it's
not a merger," Dennix felt the need to remind her.

"Of course
not," Tana said reasonably.  "It never was going to be."  She
gave a small sigh, the only sign of her growing frustration at the senator's
need to play these games on a random basis.  "Are you having second
thoughts?  Again?"

"I'm just
concerned for my people," Dennix replied woodenly.

"Of course you
are," Tana agreed.  "And a cease-fire, followed by the peaceful
assimilation of the Confederation into our jurisdiction, saves lives and
material.  Especially once the people of the galaxy admit that first of all we
are in fact your creators, and second that to oppose us means
annihilation."

Dennix opened his
mouth to speak, then shut it just as quickly, teeth clacking as he elected to
not say something that no doubt would have made Tana even more disappointed
that she was stuck with the man.

"You'll send
Enric as your emissary to us," Tana continued.  "That way we'll be
able to deal with somebody who knows what the real situation is.  You will not
send anybody else, and don't be maneuvered into taking a second person along or
let Enric be replaced."  She paused, a content look on her face. 
"Soon everything will be orderly and controlled, and you'll see how much
easier life can be with our guidance."

Dennix pondered
Starr's words later that afternoon as he stared blankly at the statement Enric
and his PR people had put together after the news broke that the Primans were
offering to talk.  The speech was slanted towards the idea that the
Confederation had fought so hard that the Primans would rather not deal with
them as a threat, and instead broker some sort of truce.  Dennix knew the
truth, which dampened his spirits as he saw spontaneous celebrations break out
all over the planet.  The people were so convinced he'd led them effectively
that all other issues were forgotten for the moment: his backdoor power grab,
government filled with yes-men who would keep him in control, his questionable
and nontraditional micromanagement of the military, and even the issue of most
of the Confederation's original government figures still being held captive
somewhere after their kidnapping during the war's opening.

None of it mattered
today; people were trying to convince themselves that the Primans would let
them be, never mind everything the enemy had done to this point.

The angle for him,
though, was much more complex.  He intended to stay in power no matter who rose
to the top when this was all over.  If the Primans won, he'd rule as their
proxy.  If the Primans were defeated, he needed to keep the people convinced
that anything good was his doing while anything bad was the incompetent or
traitorous work of others.

He wondered what
Avenger was up to.  If tradition held, they'd manage to find a way to cause him
problems.

The cruiser Cobalt
hung in space as she readied to fire the sensor platform out of her #1 torpedo
tube.  The Confederation class of cruisers made up the bulk of the fleet; they
were jacks-of-all-trades, with good shielding, numerous laser batteries and
top-of-the-line sensors.  The drawbacks were no fighters or large hangar bays
and only two torpedo tubes forward and two aft.  The space required for a
hangar bay and more torpedo launchers was prohibitive, especially since the
class wasn't designed for long term solo operations.  As part of a fleet, where
fire control was coordinated by a flagship and fighter cover was provided by
carriers, it was a non issue.  Out here alone, dropping sensor platforms out
beyond the edge of a solar system that was possibly on the Primans short list
of places to attack, it was less comforting.

"Tube One ready
and target waypoint transferred aboard," the weapons officer announced.

Captain Maleen Rese
strode from her chair back to the sensor and weapon stations at the rear of the
bridge.  The Drisk woman was almost middle-aged, though it was hard to tell. 
She had fiery red hair without a hint of gray, was in great shape and could
keep up with any of her crew in the ship's gym no matter what the challenge or
discipline.  She'd lost her former ship, the cruiser Warrior, over Callidor
while coming to the aid of Avenger after it had been shot out from underneath
her.  She'd helped make it possible for other ships to survive the Priman
attack, but had suffered the worst fears of any captain; the loss of her ship.