Page 27 of The Caphenon


  It did. With the orbital invader closing in on drop altitude, Ekatya had ordered Candini to punch her way through and give chase. They had no more time for evasive maneuvers. The destroyer had seized its chance, and the Caphenon had flown into a veritable blizzard of weaponry, taking so much damage that by the time they were finally able to land a kill shot, they couldn’t even shield against the shockwave from the destroyer’s fusion core explosion.

  “And that’s what pushed our own fusion core past the redline,” she said. “If we’d just had a little more distance, we would have made it. But we ran out of time.”

  Admiral Tsao was listening intently. “So this is when you ordered the evacuation.”

  “Yes. We were already deep in Alsea’s gravity well by then, and we still had to take care of the orbital invader. When Commander Kameha told me that his team couldn’t get the fusion core back under control, I set two priorities. First, to protect my crew, and second, to protect Alsea. Both of them required taking the fusion core offline.”

  “Which meant the Caphenon was going to crash onto Alsea at some point, no matter what you did.”

  “Unless I destroyed it in the upper atmosphere, yes.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  The question caught Ekatya flat-footed. “That wouldn’t have fulfilled my second priority.”

  “It would have if you’d set an automatic course to ram the orbital invader and then gotten yourself and your skeleton crew out after activating it.”

  “Admiral, the invader still had full maneuverability. It had no part in the battle up to that point and was completely intact. The Caphenon was down to thrusters and inertia. If I’d set an automatic course, the invader would have just moved out of the way.”

  “I see. Now tell me how you managed to take it out with just a skeleton crew. Captain Habersaat had no insight into that.”

  That was a story Ekatya was happy to tell, and the admiral’s eyes glinted when she heard about the precision team that had wiped out a Voloth orbital invader with one carefully timed double shot.

  “I wish I could recommend them for an Eye of the Needle,” she said. “Unfortunately, the circumstances of your battle preclude any medals from being handed out. I won’t have the political support for it.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you? Because you’d be in line for one too. Selfless bravery and sacrifice in saving a native population from a Voloth invasion…at any other time, I could nominate that for a Blue Star. I’m sorry, Captain Serrado. You deserve better.”

  So do the Alseans, Ekatya wanted to say. Instead, she nodded and waited for the next question. As expected, the admiral wanted to know why she still hadn’t abandoned ship even after destroying the invader, and Ekatya’s answer seemed to satisfy her.

  “There’s one thing I still don’t understand,” Admiral Tsao said. “Why didn’t Dr. Rivers evacuate with everyone else?”

  Ekatya had been dreading this one. “She’s a bit stubborn, and she didn’t want to go back to her ship. I don’t think she considered herself under my command. I also don’t think she truly understood the severity of the battle damage.”

  “She didn’t understand the severity? Does she think you go around making a habit of evacuating your entire crew in the middle of a battle?”

  With a calculated shrug and a silent apology to her lover, Ekatya said, “She’s a scientist.”

  Admiral Tsao stared for a moment, then shook her head with a disbelieving smile. “They are a breed apart, aren’t they?”

  “They certainly are.” And that was the most truthful statement she’d made in this entire report.

  “All right, then.” The admiral tapped her pad a few times, pushed it to the side, and crossed her arms in front of her. “Here is our situation, Captain. You just sacrificed a valuable asset to save a planet under Protectorate consideration from a Voloth invasion. Two days ago you would have been applauded for such an act. Now you’ve become an embarrassing inconvenience. Alsea is no longer under consideration, and we are not expanding our borders in that direction.”

  “I understand that from my orders. What I don’t understand is why.”

  “Because the Protectorate is now in negotiations with the Voloth to redraw our borders. And the deal they’ve offered us includes five planets in the Hadraka sector, in exchange for Alsea. Five inhabited planets.” She nodded at Ekatya’s shock. “It’s not an easy choice, but I do understand why so many in the Assembly are inclined to vote for it. We give up one civilization to save five, and on top of that, we get a peace treaty with mutually agreed-upon borders.”

  Ekatya’s mind buzzed with the implications, but one thought stood out: Lhyn had been right. We’re creating a future where some of us become virtual gods, she’d said, and that future was here, right now.

  “So we take the role of the Shippers now? We decide who lives and who dies? We give up an entire civilization to the Voloth just because the math works out?”

  “Captain—”

  “It’s not right, Admiral!”

  “And is it right to give up five civilizations? We can’t save them all.”

  “No, but we’ve already saved this one! And studied it, and learned so much about them. The Alseans have medtech that puts ours to shame; is that part of the Assembly’s considerations? Do they know that these people are empaths?”

  Now it was Admiral Tsao’s turn to look shocked. “They’re what?”

  “This entire race is empathic. And I’m not taking that on the word of Dr. Rivers. I’ve personally experienced it on several occasions already. Their planetary leader is a very strong empath; she knows exactly what I’m feeling and she’s proved it to me. Not only that, she can project emotions as well, and—oh, stars,” she breathed, suddenly understanding. “That’s what the Voloth want.”

  “I’m not following you.” Admiral Tsao frowned. “Probably because I still can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

  “It’s the truth. If the Assembly would wait for Dr. Rivers to make her report before selling off this planet—”

  “It is not your place to tell—”

  “They want empathic slaves!” Ekatya burst out. “Admiral, think about the timing of this. The Voloth learn about Alsea from our own anthropology team, and they send an entire invasion group mere days later. At the same time, they suddenly make us an attractive offer—a border agreement and one planet in exchange for five. Who could resist? But has anyone considered why they want this planet so badly? Think about the tactical advantage of having empathic slaves on their warships, in their negotiations, in their spy network. They’re playing us for fools, and the Assembly is letting it happen.”

  “Captain Serrado, that is enough!”

  She clamped her jaw shut and waited for a dressing down. But when Admiral Tsao spoke again, it was in a surprisingly gentle voice.

  “Ekatya, what injuries did you sustain besides a broken leg?”

  “None,” she said, forcing herself to speak calmly. “I am not delusional and I have not been hit in the head. If you would like to speak with Dr. Rivers about this, I can get her for you right now. She’s just down the hall.”

  The admiral examined her closely. “You do understand how outrageous this sounds.”

  “I do, yes. I didn’t believe it at first, even with all the clues staring me in the face. But it is a fact. The Alseans are an empathic race, and I’d bet my captain’s bars that the Voloth know it.”

  There was a long pause.

  “All right,” Admiral Tsao said at last. “Clearly, we need that report. Tell Dr. Rivers that she needs to submit her preliminary findings to me by eighteen hundred hours tomorrow—well, today, actually. I’ll make sure it gets to the negotiating team and it will be discussed the day after. In the meantime, your orders stand. And prep the Caphenon for destruction. If Alsea goes to the Voloth, we are certainly not leaving them a Pulsar-class ship to study.”

  “Understood.” She’d been expecting that order, re
gardless of whether the Voloth took over. “What about salvage?”

  “We don’t have time to send out a shipbreaker, and you’re too far out from the nearest base for your fighters to make the flight. The personnel ship we’re sending has room for one or two of your shuttles, but not your fighters. I’m afraid it’s a total loss.”

  Ekatya nodded. “May I ask a question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Is there a moratorium on territorial movements during the negotiations?”

  “Nothing will be happening for at least the next eight days, until the personnel carrier gets all of you out. You’re safe, and so is your crew and the Arkadia.” Admiral Tsao sat back in her chair. “Is there anything else you wish to report?”

  “Yes, there is. While the Voloth have been sitting down with the negotiators and pretending generosity, they’ve perfected and tested a new weapon on us.”

  That got the admiral’s full attention. “What sort of new weapon?”

  “One that destroys hullskin.”

  After five seconds of silence, Admiral Tsao said, “I really want to believe that’s the result of a head injury as well. But something tells me you have proof.”

  “I do.” Ekatya held up the stasis container holding the mashed and twisted metal fragment that Roris had brought back from the fighter bay. “This penetrated our hull during the battle, and the shrapnel from it apparently hit at least one of our fighters. Both that fighter and the Caphenon are losing their hullskin. The Caphenon is in much worse shape; it’s so bad that we can’t even use the external ladders anymore. They won’t fully form and they fall apart. The fighter’s damage was minimal enough to escape notice during a preflight check, but at full atmospheric speed, it disrupted airflow and flight controls. Lieutenant Candini had to make an emergency landing. We just finished spot-checking several other fighters in the bay, which had been exposed to the Alsean atmosphere overnight, and they show no damage at all. That rules out the possibility of this being something unique to Alsea. It was the Voloth, Admiral. They have a weapon that can end our ability to travel in base space. And whatever it is seems to be almost viral; it spreads and gets worse over time. All it would take is one hit from this weapon to leave a ship stranded.”

  “And now they’re negotiating with us for a territory swap.” Admiral Tsao looked very tired. “Well, tomorrow will be an interesting day. All right, Captain. Give me a report with whatever you’ve got and submit it with the one from Dr. Rivers. I’ll see if I can’t slow down these negotiations a bit while we consider the fact that we’re conducting them with an information deficit. It would seem the Voloth are not negotiating in good faith.”

  “Imagine that,” Ekatya said dryly.

  “Yes. Imagine that.”

  Chapter 34

  Breaking Fahla’s law

  Lanaril Satran looked up from her reading at the tap on her study door. “Yes?”

  “Excuse me, Lead Templar, but there’s someone here to see you.” Her clerical aide’s eyes were wide and he was exuding an odd mix of nervousness and awe. Someone powerful, then. Fahla save her from Blacksun politicians thinking their needs of the moment were more important than anyone else’s.

  “And did you tell whoever it is that this is my quiet time? I would be happy to open my office in…” She checked the antique wall clock. “…another forty ticks.”

  Petralsor grew even more nervous. “No, I didn’t. It’s Lancer Tal.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he was joking, but his emotions had already provided the answer. Nor was his astonishment any less than hers. Lanaril had long since given up on the piety of Andira Tal, who said and did all the right things to support the religious scholars and temples, but never darkened the doors of Blacksun Temple except for state events.

  “Then by all means, show her in.” She carefully marked her place in the book before closing it and setting it on the small table next to her chair. By the time she’d risen and straightened her tunic, Petralsor was back.

  “Please enter, Lancer Tal,” he murmured, bowing his head.

  “Thank you.” The Lancer’s voice was equally quiet, and when she stepped in, there was a subdued air about her that contrasted sharply with every experience Lanaril had ever had with the woman before now. She’d always seen a vibrant politician in full control of her public image, but in this moment she understood that it was not the politician who currently stood in her study.

  Petralsor closed the door almost soundlessly, and Lanaril stepped toward her guest, holding out a palm. “Well met, Lancer Tal. I would say it’s a surprise to see you, but I do hate stating the obvious.”

  That earned her a small smile. “Well met, Lead Templar. I’m glad to hear you say that, because today of all days I have no use for the obvious.”

  The glimpse of emotions that came through their palm touch confirmed her assumption, and she gestured at one of the comfortable, high-backed chairs facing the window. “This won’t be an official discussion, will it?”

  “Not at all.” Lancer Tal sat gracefully as Lanaril retook her own seat. “And I do apologize for interrupting your quiet time. Your aide didn’t know how to say no to me and I’m afraid I took advantage of that. But my time is not my own right now, and this was my only opportunity.”

  “You’re very gracious, and I certainly understand the demands on your time. Which can only have tripled since the arrival of our alien visitors.”

  “At least.” She rubbed her temples and frowned, and Lanaril didn’t bother to ask before rising again to fill a glass with water from her sideboard. A quick check in the left-hand drawer confirmed that her kit was stocked, and she returned with the glass in one hand and a skinspray in the other.

  “Here. It will help.”

  Lancer Tal accepted both offerings with a grateful look, emptying the glass in one long drink and injecting herself with the spray immediately afterwards. With a sigh of relief, she let her head fall against the chair back and closed her eyes. “Ah, much better. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Pardon me for asking, but don’t you have people who are supposed to take care of you? Because they’re not doing a very good job.”

  “I’m not letting them. I don’t have time.” Her eyes opened again, and in the bright afternoon sunlight they seemed to glow. “Lead Templar, I need your counsel as the one who is closest to Fahla among all of us.”

  “I see. Well, in that case, I am not your Lead Templar and you are not my Lancer. We are all family in the eyes of Fahla, and I don’t call my family by their titles. Please call me Lanaril, and if you don’t mind, I will call you Andira.”

  The audacity of her request showed in the Lancer’s eyes. “I haven’t used that name in quite some time.”

  “That’s not surprising, considering that you live with a title twenty hanticks a day, every day. And if you’re like the other warriors I counsel, all of your friends are warrior caste and have long forgotten you ever had a given name.”

  “You’re certainly right about that.” Lancer Tal studied her. “Which does give me hope for this discussion. So yes, call me Andira.”

  “I’m honored to do so. Tell me what concerns you, Andira.”

  The immediate name usage startled her guest, who paused a moment before asking, “Can I assume, since we’re speaking on a matter of private counsel, that what I say stays in this room?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Andira nodded. “Then this is what concerns me. I’ve just spent two hanticks making condolence calls to sixteen families who lost their loved ones yesterday. Every one of those calls was wrenching, but in every one I was able to say, ‘Your loved one died with honor.’ And when I was done, all I could think about was the fact that within the next nineday, it’s quite likely that I’ll be going to my Return as well. But I don’t know if people will be able to say the same thing about me. Lead—Lanaril,” she corrected herself, “I have lived my entire life by the Truth and the Path, and I’ve striven f
or honor at every opportunity. But the course of action I’m planning right now has very little honor in it. I need to know if you think I can still find a welcome when I Return to our goddess, despite what I have to do to save Alsea.”

  Lanaril took a slow breath. “Before I answer that, I need to know a little more about your situation. First, what is your relationship with Fahla right now? Before you do this thing that lacks honor?”

  “I’m not as impious as you probably think. Just because I don’t burn offerings doesn’t mean I don’t honor our goddess. It’s just that I don’t feel her in temples, in the places built by Alsean hands. I feel her in the places she built.”

  “You’re an outdoor worshipper.”

  “Are we that common?”

  “Oh, yes. Though your type does make my job harder. I never know who you are until you come through my door. Your worship has no less value for its location; it’s just less convenient for me.”

  Andira smiled. “Sorry about that. But I’m afraid even Blacksun Temple can’t compare to a good run through the forest.”

  “Well, I’m rather proud of Blacksun Temple, but let me tell you a secret.” Lanaril leaned closer. “Fahla never specified that her people could worship only in her temples. In fact, she left our options wide open.” She laid a finger on her lips before adding in a whisper, “Don’t tell or we’ll find our budget cut in next cycle’s Council finance assessment.”

  With a surprised chuckle, Andira said, “You’re not what I expected.”