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Chapter 40


“So often, one confuses appetites with passions. A life ruled by appetites inevitably declines. A life guided by passions inevitably elevates.”


Devlin Sinclair-Maru, Integrity Mirror


Core system swarmed with Fleet traffic and various merchant craft, all moving to or from Core Alpha or the Strand. Massive battleships and cruisers flowed out for combat cruises, or flowed in for refit and re-crew as the Imperial response ramped up.

Far out-system, a nondescript heavy merchant transitioned in. The Fleet defensive platforms and scanner stations detected its arrival, and after dealing with more pressing, military traffic, this merchant ship eventually received its official query. Irregularities of registration, a non-logged manifest, and an improper authentication code only began the official consternation at this ship, Aurora. Eventually, a Fleet functionary on an outer defense platform contacted the ship directly.

Captain Saef Sinclair-Maru received the transmission personally, the pale, wounded Inga Maru seated nearby, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she nibbled a food bar.

“I am Captain Sinclair-Maru of the frigate Tanager,” Saef said to the third Fleet rating in a row.

“But your ship authenticates as the merchant Aurora,” the functionary said.

“Yes,” Saef said with slipping patience. “This vessel is Aurora.”

“I don’t understand, Captain. Where’s Tanager, then?”

Saef’s heart sank at the question. “I had rather hoped she was here.”

“No. Tanager is on a mission, which you would know if you really were Captain Sinclair-Maru.”

Saef sighed. In fairness to the rating, a warship captain had likely never returned to base piloting some random merchant craft, in all the history of Fleet. “Listen, I am part of Commodore Zanka’s squadron. If you could route a message to him, please—”

“Commodore Zanka is unavailable, which you would also know if you were really Captain Sinclair-Maru. I hope you realize that impersonating a Fleet officer carries serious consequences.”

Saef shook his head. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Of course Zanka wouldn’t have returned from his cruise yet. He still ran his squadron with rigid economy, war or no war.

“Yes, of course,” Saef said, striving for patience. “If you will only—”

“Standby, Aurora,” the rating cut Saef abruptly off, leaving him stewing. He turned to Inga.

“You should get back to medical, Maru.”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I feel some cloak-and-dagger nonsense in the offing.”

Saef grimaced. “Does appear that way, doesn’t it?”

Since they ran from their orbit of Delta Three, Inga and Wiley both languished in the cold grips of the techmedico, and neither was ready for more than a short walk even now.

The rating returned to the comm, now with a more peremptory tone. “Aurora, continue on your current heading and acceleration without deviation. You will be met and yield to Fleet cutter Feist. Acknowledge.”

Saef’s grimace grew more pronounced. “Acknowledged. Holding course and acceleration, yield to Feist. Please advise Feist we carry wounded Fleet personnel.”

The rating made no comment and ended the transmission, leaving Saef in ominous silence. “There are a few steps to take before they come for us,” Inga said in a quiet voice.

“Yes.”

“Get the major. Talk. You may save each other. No one else may.”

“Since Tanager is…is not here.” Saef nearly said, Since Tanager is gone.

“Yes, unless Winter Yung intercedes.”

“She won’t,” Saef said.

“This cargo we carry may compel someone.”

Saef shook his head and stood. “A billion credits’ worth of Shaper tech is the richest prize any frigate captain has ever captured.”

“More than a billion,” Inga said pulling the blanket tight across her shoulders. “Several billions.”

“Worse still. Somebody high up is going to be embarrassed by this, aside from anything else we did at Delta Three.”

“You underestimate greed, I think,” Inga almost whispered, looking down. “The commodore and at least one admiral can become rich from their percentage on your prize. They will lie and backstab for that percentage…even if it helps you.”

“But how do I navigate their greed, Maru? How do I steer clear of the stockade and hang onto some shred of honor in this?” Saef realized the ache in his chest had little to do with fear of the Admiralty or fear of losing his rich prize. He ached at the loss of Tanager, his crew, his first command, mourning every one of them already.

Inga placed one slender hand on Saef’s arm. “Listen to me. Get the major. There is much to do before the cutter arrives.”

Saef stared down at her wan features and shook his head. “You are in no shape for this.”

“No. For what’s to come, I’m in perfect shape.”

* * *

The speed of Feist’s arrival spoke volumes regarding the interest in Saef or his prize from some elevated quarter. The two ships matched velocity on Aurora’s inbound course, and Feist expertly closed and locked. Moments later, ship-suited ratings came through the lock, each bearing a carbine in hand, not quite pointing at Saef and Major Mahdi, who stood waiting, in uniform, hands at their sides.

“Saef Sinclair-Maru?” one said, staring between Saef and Mahdi, as if they might have swapped uniforms.

Captain Saef Sinclair-Maru, yes,” Saef corrected.

“Yes, Captain, you are hereby detained. Please come with us.”

Saef did not move. “This vessel is my lawful prize of war. I will surrender command to no one but a commissioned Fleet officer.”

The rating shifted his carbine to point at Saef’s chest. “I said, come with me, sir.”

Saef glanced at Major Mahdi. “Seems he’s trying to take my ship by force, Major.”

“Looks that way, Captain,” Mahdi rumbled. “Not following Fleet regs. Threatening violence.”

“That’s piracy, I believe,” Saef mused. “What do you do with pirates, Major?”

“Kill them, mostly, Captain.”

The rating took a hesitant step back, his weapon wavering. “Now that’s enough—!”

“Call an officer, lad, or your life of piracy will be short,” Mahdi said.

The rating made the call.

A lieutenant arrived through the connecting lock moments later, an irritated expression on her face. The sight of her ratings shuffling about uncertainly seemed to incite even greater wrath. Before she could formulate words, Saef stopped her.

“Lieutenant, you are aboard my lawful prize. Do you assume responsibility for the command and care of this vessel and her cargo?”

“I—you are being detained, Captain, and in no position to be giving orders to anyone!”

“So you threaten to seize my prize by force?” Saef asked.

The lieutenant glared. “You will yield and come with us peacefully, or you will be subdued.”

“That’s a ‘yes,’ I’d say,” Major Mahdi growled. “Whole flock of pirates in Fleet uniforms.”

“Lieutenant,” Saef said, “it would likely be healthier for everyone if you followed Fleet regulations. You are attempting to practice piracy, and it is my duty to resist.”

Before the red-faced lieutenant could do more than place a hand upon her sidearm, a hatch slid open and she looked into the certain death of a gaping muzzle. Corporal Hastings, sheathed in the adamantine bulk of Imperial battledress, filled the hatchway.

Saef snapped his fingers and the lieutenant’s startled gaze snapped back to him. “So, Lieutenant, do we follow Fleet regulations? Or do my Marines take you and your ship as pirates?”

Inga’s prescient gambit worked, and they cleared the first hurdle in retaining Aurora as Tanager’s lawful prize.

diamonds

The inbound trip aboard Feist may have been the fastest transit ever aboard a Fleet vessel. As a new intrasystem cutter, Feist offered top interceptor performance, though for the moment she served as little more than a high-speed ferry. Aside from Saef and Major Mahdi, Feist bore the wounded, Inga and Wiley, and Saef was surprised to see Inga’s dumb-mech hitching an unobtrusive ride beneath her suspension cot, looking as though it belonged there.

Even with Feist’s remarkable speed, Saef knew their destination arrived too quickly for it to be the Strand, so he was not surprised when Feist’s rating led them through a lock connection aboard yet another ship. As soon as Saef set foot on the new ship, his Fleet command UI disappeared, sending another confirmation of his plight. He found the Deep Man as they marched Mahdi and him straight to a sterile conference chamber, and Saef looked over his shoulder to see Inga and Wiley disappearing down the corridor on their suspension cots as the hatch slid shut.

A heavyworld captain sat at the table, flanked by a pair of security ratings and a Marine colonel, also heavyworld. The tabletop holo projector bore the embossed name VICTORY upon it, and from that alone Saef now knew what vessel he had joined. The dark and silent Fleet UI left him feeling blind and excluded even as he recalled the last time he saw Victory’s scarred hull as he entered Core system, not many weeks before.

“Captain, Major, I am Captain Newton, and this is Colonel Veidt,” Victory’s captain began, his face blank of expression, “I would apologize for the irregularities of these proceedings, but your own dereliction, your own abysmal lack of judgment has created the need.”

“Perhaps there is some error here,” Saef said. “I am Captain Sinclair-Maru. You must have mistaken us for someone else.”

Captain Newton glowered but it was not his voice that spoke next. “There is no mistake, upstart,” the grating voice of Admiral Nifesh ground out as the holo tank came to life. The blunt, bald head and gleaming eyes seemed locked upon Saef. “You are the one, paragon. You are the one who returns without your command or your crew. You are the one who perpetrated crimes upon the people of Delta Three. You are the one who brought complaints to the Emperor himself. Yes, you are the one who clearly violated the letter and the spirit of your written orders.”

Saef found the Deep Man and a measure of calm stoicism. “You are mistaken, Admiral. We thwarted an enemy ambush, destroyed enemy assets, and captured a rich and lawful prize.”

“A prize?” Nifesh said. “You raid a loyal system and seize a peaceful, unarmed vessel. That is piracy. It is treachery.”

“I witnessed—” Major Mahdi began, but Nifesh cut him off.

“Silence! Tanager’s Marines will have their time to speak.”

Captain Newton cleared his throat. “Captain Sinclair-Maru, do you possess Tanager’s log?”

“No, Captain.”

“Have any of your bridge officers survived?”

“None are currently on-system,” Saef said.

“Hah!” Nifesh crowed. “Not on-system.”

“Do you acknowledge that your written orders specified a strict scouting mission, with no authorization for action?” Captain Newton asked.

“I do,” Saef said.

“Do you admit, then, that you broke your orders and initiated an attack upon Delta Three assets?”

“I do not.”

Nifesh barked a laugh at this, but Captain Newton continued in the same tone. “Do you take responsibility for the Delta Three regional governor’s death, or do you place the blame upon Major Mahdi?”

“Neither,” Saef said. “He was killed by enemy action.”

“And you have proof of this?” the captain inquired with raised eyebrows.

“There is a vidcapture in the major’s battledress system,” Saef said.

“For security reasons, the battledress systems aboard the merchant ship Aurora had their memories purged, I’m afraid,” Captain Newton said.

Saef’s heart sank. Inga had warned him, but he could not believe that any Fleet personnel would stoop so low in deleting valuable intelligence just to aid a prosecution.

Admiral Nifesh uttered a low chuckle. “All that bravado…and yet the ground disappears beneath your feet.”

Captain Newton seemed to wince at Nifesh’s words. Clearly he wished to maintain a veneer of impersonal justice despite the very personal nature of the admiral’s intent.

“Every question will be answered in the official Board review,” Saef said.

“Captain, this is your official Board review,” Captain Newton said.

Saef felt his fists clench, his heart hammering through his control for a moment. “This? One captain, one colonel, and one admiral in the conference room of a warship?”

“Very pretty,” Mahdi growled. “Far from the public eye.”

“Be silent until you are addressed, Major!” Nifesh snapped.

Victory’s captain folded his hands. “Captain, do you have any idea how the outer systems regard an unprovoked attack by Fleet forces? They may have enemy propaganda whispered in their ears every day, now suddenly confirmed by your illegal actions with Delta Three.”

“We must plug the breach,” Nifesh added. “We must be swift, severe, and certain, with no hint of justification for the actions of young rogue captains with mercenary intentions.”

Saef felt the reality sink into his gut. This review was only a show. Nothing he said would make the slightest difference in the outcome. They would happily sacrifice him to placate whatever voices had screamed in outrage, and the truth meant nothing now.

The farce thus continued, them asking pointless questions, Saef offering pointless answers, continually robbed of context. But, under the shelter of the Deep Man, Saef’s mind and emotions drifted away from the shameful production. He need only await the inevitable, far from the Nets and any protection the Sinclair-Maru family might provide. Neither he nor Inga had anticipated such a swift and thorough response.

* * *

Victory’s capacious medical bay contained only Inga Maru, a physician, and a grumbling, grousing Wiley. The remainder of the large space held empty suspension cots and various treatment mechanisms.

The systems monitoring the apparently comatose Inga Maru saw only what she wished them to see, but beneath her closed eyelids her eyes flickered. Secreted in the recesses of the suspension cot beneath Inga, the dumb-mech received signals from Inga’s UI, amplifying and conditioning them as it prepared a digital payload.

Inga had learned much from Loki in their brief time together, and Victory’s Intelligence was no Loki. Her slow, careful intrusion into Victory’s systems progressed, seeming to take hours, but she ceaselessly labored.

The attending physician walked over to Inga’s cot and glanced at the monitors. Her condition seemed unchanged, and he was about to move on when he saw the bead of sweat trailing down Inga’s temple. He stared, leaning nearer.

“Doc! Help! Doc!” Wiley yelled from his cot. “Your damned machine is trying to violate me. Help!”

The physician glared at Wiley for a moment, then spotted Wiley’s imminent assault on sensitive instruments, a bedpan clutched defensively in his hands. He rushed off, leaving Inga to her work, and a slow smile crossed her lips as her eyes continued to flicker. Her mind slipped through Victory’s digital vitals, bypassing clumsy gates, slithering, probing.

There…almost, almost.

She prepared to release the weapon she had waiting in the electronic magazine of the dumb-mech; a poison pill she had quickly readied hours earlier.

Sprawled and still upon the medical cot, wounded and weakened, Inga once again embodied the silent hand, the subtlety of the Sinclair-Maru. With the faint whisper of an exhale, she launched her attack.

* * *

Saef continued to woodenly answer each question, still feeling little emotion from the flagrant disregard for truth or context. Major Mahdi sat beside him in glowering silence.

Admiral Nifesh spoke in conclusive tones. “Despite your lack of willingness to assume responsibility, I believe we have heard more than enough to render judgment.”

Victory’s captain slowly nodded, and the Marine colonel nodded with even greater reluctance.

This was the cliff edge racing toward him, Saef knew. Though he held little doubt that facts would eventually exonerate him to some extent, irreparable damage would already be served to him, to the Sinclair-Maru Family…to an immense fortune represented in his prize, Aurora. In all likelihood, the results of this parody of justice would end his Fleet career and possibly destroy his life.

Yet, to the edge, the irrevocable edge, they flew. Neither Inga’s tricks nor Major Mahdi’s facts would accomplish anything once the gavel dropped.

“Very well, then. With the honor and efficiency of Fleet as our goal, in service to the greater Imperium, this abridged review Board has only one choice, based upon the evidence and testimony obtained here,” Nifesh said, now with a solemn demeanor, the gleam of pleasure only visible in his eyes. “This Board finds Captain Sinclair—”

“This is a mockery,” Major Mahdi snarled at last, unable to hold his peace any longer.

“Be still, brother,” the heavyworld Marine colonel said, his expression sympathetic.

“You fools. Playing these games while our people—”

“Silence! You hear me? Silence!” Nifesh yelled, his face suffused within the holo. “You will face your own crimes soon enough, Major! Aiding this uprising through your actions!”

“There is no uprising, fool!” Mahdi shouted. “There is an invasion!”

“Silence him, if he will not silence himself,” Nifesh ordered, and two ratings bracketed the major. He glared at them each in turn, but closed his mouth on the host of words that remained unspoken. The Marine colonel stared at Mahdi, puzzled by the substance of his outburst.

“As I said before,” Nifesh said, “based upon the evidence and testimony, this Board has only one choi—What is it now?

Each of the four view monitors had sprung suddenly to life, each displaying the same rain-swept stretch of darkened road, the two skimcars sliding to a halt in a shower of sparks.

“What’s this?” Nifesh demanded. “Captain, why are you displaying this?”

Captain Newton stared at the monitors without comprehension. “I’m not doing this.”

The image on the screens split, one half of each screen showing a wide-angle view of the two skimcars, the other half clearly a vidstream flowing from the battledress-clad Marine who loped up to one skimcar, the insignia of the Imperial Marines glowing from his adamantine carapace.

“Stop this immediately, Captain,” Nifesh ordered. Captain Newton placed hurried calls, but Marine Colonel Veidt just watched the screen, his face a grim mask. A figure on the screen pointed a weapon seemingly right into the camera and fired, clearly initiating violence against an Imperial Marine. As the return fire slammed both attendants back, Captain Newton threw up his hands.

“It’s streaming through every monitor on the ship.”

“Well, shut them down! Do you hear me?”

“I’m trying, sir.”

The monitor screens poured out the sight and sound of that night on Delta Three to the massive crew of Victory who all stared, transfixed wherever they stood or sat. Saef stared also, feeling the warm coal of hope igniting in his belly. Inga…

“Do you remain loyal to the Imperium?” Major Mahdi’s voice resounded from every screen aboard Victory, and the chilling visage of the grinning female attendant communicated only wrongness to everyone who stared, transfixed by the image.

“It’s them!” Nifesh barked. “It’s his crew, Captain. Search them. Stop them from doing this.”

Colonel Veidt shook his head, never looking from the screen. “It is too late,” he rumbled in a low voice.

There’s no rebellion,—Don’t you see?” the regional governor of Delta Three screeched on the screen, his terror evident to every viewer as he edged from the grinning creature beside him. “They’re not human, even! Kill it!

Even Nifesh’s bluster fell silent at the sight of a well-dressed female citizen grinning joyfully as she slashed at the governor’s neck. The vidstream continued long enough for all to see her struck down, ending even as the governor’s life ended.

The screens fell silent and dark, and Nifesh immediately babbled, “This changes nothing!”

Captain Newton looked away uncertainly, but Colonel Veidt spoke. “It changes everything.”

“Evidence illegally obtained. Illegally presented.”

The colonel shook his head. “We have a possible nonhuman invasion, and you’re worried about rules of evidence?”

“What invasion? A crazy woman with a knife?”

Captain Newton slowly raised his head to stare at Nifesh in the holo, his expression incredulous. “Admiral, what is it that you want?”

“You know what we must have. Order. Justice.”

“Justice?” the captain repeated, looking down. “Or is this more of a personal vengeance?”

“Watch your words, Captain,” Nifesh said. “This paragon violated every element of his written orders.”

“You…you should be overjoyed, Admiral. Overjoyed.” Captain Newton said, his voice rising.

“Do not forget yourself, Captain.”

“Here we have proof that Delta Three falsely accused Fleet officers. The stain can be wiped clean, honor restored. Are you so blind?”

Nifesh seemed to quiver with rage. “I see plainly enough. I see weak officers unwilling to do their duty. I see naïve children in a fantasyland. This is not over!”

Colonel Veidt stood. “My apologies, Admiral, I will take no further part in this. There is no quorum without me. It is over.”

“Over?” Nifesh replied. “It has just begun. Another Board—a more reliable Board—will do the hard work you are too weak to handle. This paragon will be judged. His prize will be condemned. He will pay for his lost command, for violating orders. He will be broken!”

Saef and Mahdi stared at Nifesh in his apoplexy, both sharing the sense of desperate relief. Any review Board to follow could not compare with the horror they had just avoided.

Captain Newton leaned to one side as a rating whispered urgently in his ear. “What’s that?” Nifesh demanded. “Did you discover the saboteur who raided your systems?”

The captain’s face underwent several indecipherable changes before he composed himself. “No, Admiral, it is excellent news.… Outer defense platforms report a new contact just arrived on-system.” He paused and Nifesh frowned, sensing what was to come. “You will be pleased to hear it is Tanager, badly damaged but accelerating inbound.”

Saef felt the greatest weight fall from his shoulders, drawing his first full breath in what seemed days. While Admiral Nifesh looked anything but pleased. “Good,” Nifesh said. “At his next review Board we will have the logs and witnesses to explain exactly how this prodigy violated every element of his orders and took it upon himself to drop troops in an unauthorized invasion of Delta Three. I look forward to hearing him talk his way out of that.”

Saef said nothing, his internal cheer undiminished as he stared at the admiral’s scarred and bitter face in the holo. Nifesh pursed his lips. “It hardly seems the best of times for such an ordeal in your Family, prodigy, what with your Family’s recent tragedy.” The barely suppressed tone of satisfaction chilled Saef as much as the words themselves.

At Saef’s expression of blank incomprehension, Nifesh continued with obvious relish. “Oh, am I the first to bear such sad tidings? You hadn’t heard about Bess Sinclair-Maru? Hopefully you were not especially close because”—he could not restrain his smile now—“her demise is surely upon your head.”


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