Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (52 page)

BOOK: Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3)
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“Thought I'd be off playing shuffleboard somewhere, son?” Jezebel Rico Ramichov, dowager empress asked tartly.

“Perish the thought of ever seeing you do that, Mother,” he said as he walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “Have you been behaving yourself?” he asked.

“Oh you,” she mocked, waving a hand as he stepped back. “As if you don't know, with Imperial Intelligence watching me like a hawk,” she scolded.

“That's for your own protection, Mother,” Pyotr stated in mock exasperation as he stepped back and tucked his hands behind his back.

“Sure it is,” his mother drawled.

“Mother,” Pyotr sighed.

“What?” She asked innocently.

He shook his head. “Never mind. So, what else has been going on?”

“Well, as you know the courier's news has hit the grapevine. It hasn't filtered down through the ranks quite yet, give it time, but the ruling families are talking up a storm about it,” his mother said.

“Gossip? You, Mother?” Pyotr teased. She gave him a quelling look. “Sorry.”

“Quick snickering, this is serious. Apparently a lot of people, powerful people, are now concerned about the fate of the Retribution Fleet. More importantly, their loved ones in it.”

“Loved ones my ass. They were black sheep that they sent off to be rid of,” Irazabeth stated from her position at her dressing table as she spritzed perfume on her collar and then her wrists. She rubbed her wrists together and then sniffed them delicately. “I do admit I am worried about the children. I had thought they'd … well, not be safe per say, but they'd be … insulated from some of the danger. That they'd get some adventure …”

“It is a concern,” Pyotr said quietly.

“More so with Catherine in
Executioner
. Didn't the report say that the cracks have been found in the dreadnaughts, dear?” Irazabeth asked.

The emperor nodded. “A few have been found in the battleships and battle cruisers as well,” he admitted.

“And Adam is in a battle cruiser,” the dowager empress observed mildly. “Any one of them could be lost.”

“Oh, not Mason, he's on the marine transport,” Irazabeth stated loyally.

“Marines tend to get shot at more often than serving naval officers, my dear,” her mother-in-law reminded her unkindly. “Though it is good of you to show concern for your stepson,” she said. She had never liked Mason or his brother Joseph. Both had chosen careers in the Marines over the navy, and they'd done their best to put as much space between themselves and the court as they could. It was their parentage that bothered her the most though. Their elder half-siblings had been planned by her and their mother Fiona, and she hadn't planned on Pyotr spreading his genes again once she'd neatly arranged the removal of his wife from the political equation for him. But he had, and the little hussy Meredith had gotten her hooks into her son quite well by getting pregnant not once but twice. It had been something of a scandal in the ruling families that the two boys had been born out of wedlock. She'd engineered a whisper campaign to break them apart, but it had backfired when Pyotr had asked Meredith to marry him on live television. The little witch had instantly agreed, making Jezebel furious with cold rage.

Fortunately for Jezebel's plans, Meredith had died in an air car accident a month later. She had her suspicions that young Irazabeth had been involved for some time; she'd certainly turned up quickly to “console” Pyotr during his time of grieving.

The two women had something of a détente existing between them for over a decade after they'd had “the talk.” Irazabeth had made it plain she would tolerate her mother-in-law's machinations up to a point and wouldn't interfere with them unless they clashed with her own goals. Jezebel had reluctantly agreed only after her new daughter-in-law had informed her that if anything untoward happened to her and her two children someone would make it well known to the public and especially the twins and Pyotr who'd really arranged for Fiona's death.

Which would be something of a death sentence for the dowager empress she knew. Her own return shot that Meredith had been killed by Irazebeth had been without supporting evidence and said in the heat of the moment, but the threat had been enough to stave off her complete collapse and her being turned into a mouth puppet of her new daughter-in-law.

Which meant they had a … some would say, lively and grudging respect for one another.

“I care for
all
of the children,” the empress stated, straightening her shoulders in indignation.

“Let's leave that one alone, shall we?” Pyotr interjected, moving between their glaring eyes. He didn't want to be referee for one of their infrequent spats. “I am concerned about them, yes. But more about the implications of their loss at this point. And more importantly, the loss of the mission if it should fail or be delayed unduly. It could cause political unrest.”

“We haven't lost them yet,” Irazabeth said in soft dismay. She turned to put her red, elbow-length gloves on.

“Yet
my dear. And as some have pointed out, they are going into combat in lamed ships. There is already speculation that it was deliberate,” the dowager empress said, directing her comment to her son as her daughter-in-law sucked in a protesting gasp.

“It wasn't and Malwin will back that up. We didn't know. We should have, but we didn't. We are doing what we can to rectify the problem as we speak,” he stated. “My staff can point out that Admiral De Gaulte took the ship he'd had as his flagship for the past decade or more. We didn't deliberately give him a crippled ship. We need this mission to succeed,” he stated.

“Be that as it may, it's the perception that matters here, son,” his mother reminded him. “And such things stick, especially if they happen anyway.”

“Do you think I should recall them?” he asked, looking at her squarely.

She frowned thoughtfully. “I see the trap you are in. No, I think they are doing their duty, and they know it. Emphasizing that will be important. If they run into too many problems with these cracks, undoubtedly Cyrano will make the hard call and withdraw,” she stated.

“But not before he gets in and faces the federation. At the least we need him to hammer them. To throw them on the defense to give us time to finish the refits and redeploy,” the empress stated.

“True,” the emperor stated with a nod. “But that still leaves the threat of combat. And of … loosing people in the process.”

“We are putting our own blood on the line like the other ruling families. I'd think that would be enough,” the empress stated.

“For some. Some may see it in other lights,” the emperor stated.

“Cynics to the end,” the dowager empress stated with a smirk. She uncrossed her legs and rose, brushing her skirt out. “Are we ready my dear?” she asked with a polite smile to her daughter in law.

“Just about,” the empress stated, picking up a fur wrap and settling it over her shoulders. It was snow white mink fur with a translucent sparkling silk coat under it.

“Not quite,” the emperor stated. His wife looked at him quizzically as he took a hand-crafted gift box out of a pocket. It was rectangular, long and thin. “It won't quite match mother's pearls, but …”

Irazabeth smiled indulgently as she opened the box. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her smile gleamed as she saw the necklace within.

“For you, my dear,” he said, taking it out. He undid the clasp. She smiled coyly as she raised her hair and bowed her head to allow him to put it on her. When he was finished, he kissed the side of her neck. She smiled and brushed her fingertips along his cheek.

“Now that is settled,” she murmured.

“You can repay me later,” he said wickedly. She tucked her arm in the crook of his. He offered his other arm to his mother. She took it. She clung to it far more than his wife did he noted.

“The kids will be fine. And if they aren't …,” the emperor shook his head as he led the ladies out of the dressing room and through their bedroom. Their security fell in around them as they made their way through the halls to the ballroom.

“Losing them will be painful; it will be a blow,” Irazabeth murmured softly.

“You are looking at this the wrong way, dear,” the dowager empress stated from the other side of the emperor. “They will serve as martyrs and will give your children a chance to step outside their shadows and breathe a bit. They'll have time to grow into the role we intend for them,” the elderly woman said. She locked eyes with the woman, then looked up to her son in-between them.

“Mother is correct as usual. It will be a blow politically, but a two-edged sword for anyone who tries to use it politically against us. We will survive.”

Irazabeth nodded wisely. She had learned long ago that children, like wives, were replaceable. And, well, losing Catherine and Adam wouldn't be too much of a loss for her. Far from it actually. With a little lift to her heart, she smiled again just as the door warden bowed and then opened the French doors for their grand entrance.

 

Chapter 21

 

Courier
UFDV-010S
rushed into Protodon in a burst of light followed by a burst of urgent radio broadcasts. The threat bearing down on Second Fleet and eventually Protodon had weighed heavily on Monica's mind for the entire voyage. Once the small ship was secure from hyperspace, she broadcast the invasion warning followed by news of the fleet bearing down on the star system.

The omni broadcast was picked up by the Knox news satellite in orbit as well as the governor's office on the planet. At first the governor's publicist office refused to explain the broadcast, but a low-level staffer couldn't help but tell a friend who told another friend on a social media site … and then it was out.

The rumors swirling grew in the telling and speculation. They had a kernel of truth, however; a Horathian juggernaut was bearing down on them. The Protodon government couldn't deny that. Then additional details were leaked to the Protodon media.

Captain Okonkwo's message had been intended as a warning to the federation to prepare. The intention had been to get people motivated on stopping the juggernaut. Instead it caused initial panic in the population already stressed by war.

:::{)(}:::

 

Air Ranger Caitlin Oshanessay swore as she saw the rioting from her chopper. And from above there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it, except no one got killed. Property could be repaired or replaced. It was lives that mattered.

“I think someone seriously screwed up here,” she growled into her microphone.

“Yeah, think?” Jo Santini echoed sarcastically from the copilot's seat. “What do we do? Obviously force is out. I wish we had the stuff to gas them, but we don't.”

“No, we don't. Something else to add to the request for materials I suppose,” Caitlin growled. After the Horathians had been booted out, her old boss had been lynched. Her record during the invasion had stood her in good stead. She'd been bumped up past sergeant to officer. Not that it seemed to be doing a whole hell of a lot of good now. The extra weight of her rank just made her feel like hell in moments like this she thought.

“Call Dom. See if he can rig up, I don't know, sound generators or something. Something to get them to knock this shit off,” Caitlin urged.

“I can try,” Jo replied dubiously.

:::{)(}:::

 

Captain Okonkwo was called on board
Xiten'xha
to be chastised by Commander T'roi, captain of the
Resolution
class heavy cruiser and the Protodon picket senior officer.

Monica stood at attention before the Veraxin. She could tell from the bug's buzzing that she was livid. She wasn't certain as to why. Not until the Veraxin used her implants to turn the screens on to show the rioting that was happening on the planet. “Ma'am?”

“You screwed up. I believe the human saying is, put your foot in your mouth,” the Veraxin stated.

“Ma'am?”

“By broadcasting your Zulu alert system wide, Lieutenant, you caused undue panic on the planet. So as penance, one of the things you are going to do to make up for it is watch the news videos of the people rioting on Protodon.”

Monica blinked. Only iron control of her implants and her expression kept her from tearing up. “I know I screwed up, ma'am. I was so eager to get the word out, seeing it as my duty I … screwed up,” she said as she stopped herself from making further excuses.

“You are right. And I have entered a formal reprimand into your record. Your ship can now resupply before it heads back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Captain Okonkwo replied in a subdued voice. The Veraxin clacked and then dismissed her.

“And now that I've chastised her and pretty much destroyed her career for getting too excited, I get to seem to drag my feet and play with fire with my own career … and potentially piss off a couple of flag officers,” the commander stated.

“Ma'am?” the XO asked from her open doorway. “Were you … oh, sorry, implant call?”

“Never mind,” the Veraxin stated as she finished filing her report and then opened another file, an urgent communication to Admiral Irons through the ansible. She sent the request for clarification to Admiral Irons with a copy of what was happening on Protodon.

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