Empire Undone
Author: Aer-Ki Jyr
Date: 2024-05-03T18:00:00+00:00
Description: With Admiral Gorgo's personal empire decapitated, dozens of systems are in the lurch. Without supply lines and a clear chain of command, it's up to the Grand Admiral to step in and clean things up before too many people starve to death...or worse. Some of the systems have accepted his command authority and new supply lines are forming, but others are not. Some are defiantly claiming independence, while others are searching for options to continue their barbaric ways that they know Aatroxiss will stop. And with the research station proving to be far more than Specter 7's intelligence had claime
Publisher: Archon Lore

1

“Stand up, Lieutenant.”

The helmsman of the Imperial Corvette Night Hawk turned around in his seat with an odd look on his face. “Sir?”

“Out of the chair,” the ship’s captain said, though he didn’t rank that high. The Hexdra was two levels lower, but no full Captain would be wasted on a corvette who had a total crew of 6.

The Lieutenant complied, and Hexdra Nogalu slid into the seat and began resetting the control board to his liking as the system’s sun ahead of them visibly grew larger as they hard braked against it coming out of an interstellar jump with two pursuing corvettes not far behind them.

“Captain Yani told me when I was the helmsman of the Titron,” he explained as he set the ship into a sideways drift, getting a warning prompt that they were going off jumpline, “that he didn’t want his pilots to fly cautious. He wanted us to skim the edges of the protocol box and fly as aggressively as possible. It was a nightmare for the first few dekkas, but eventually all of us adapted and we learned a great many ways to trim time off of transitions.”

“You’re exceeding protocol now, captain,” the helmsman warned.

“I am,” he admitted. “I don’t think protocol will do us much good if we’re dead. Do you?”

“Are you sure about this Herris?” his second in command said, using his first name. That wouldn’t have been tolerated onboard a larger ship, but sharing such small confines required a bit more flexibility and looseness in order to stay sane.

“No, but if we don’t do something drastic, they’re going to catch up this stop or the next one. And we’re seven away from Outpost #01.”

“Assuming it’s actually there,” Lieutenant Gigon argued. The ship had three Lieutenants, the Hexdra, a Lopan, and a Tuvark…despite protocol saying Tuvarks could not serve aboard corvettes. Having such a small crew necessitated that everyone be seasoned and skilled. Tuvarks were the lowest rank in the Imperial Fleet, and one being assigned to the Night Hawk was just one of a number of reasons the Hexdra had taken his ship awol from the patrol group assigned to Naugh. Captain Montose had even ordered the patrol to fire on the corvette that had brought a copy of the Grand Admiral’s orders to the system. But before he could erase them from the system, every captain had heard the message…and had been subsequently ordered to disobey the Grand Admiral and stay where they were.

It had taken a while, along with diminishing work conditions, for the Hexdra to get up the nerve to take his ship out of there. And Captain Montose had dispatched two other corvettes to trail and intercept him. They wanted to capture the ship intact, as evidenced by the hole over the left flank of the fat rectangle that was the Imperial corvette. Their escape had not been clean, and when they’d had to sprint past a destroyer near the exiting jumppoint they’d been hit.

It had landed three shots on the hull after battering down the shields to near nothing with a well placed missile barrage. And one of those three shots had punched through enough to damage a gravity drive node. It was one of twelve that were the ship’s engines, while the two trailing corvettes that had been dispatched later were operating on a full dozen.

That’s why they were slightly faster and catching up. And had the destroyer not been too hesitant when it knocked down their shields, the Night Hawk would have been jumping out of Naugh with far more damage. But warships out in the Frontier were a highly prized commodity, and even someone with the vindictive rage of Captain Montose wasn’t about to destroy one that he could recapture and rebuild later.

The crew however, he would certainly kill…after making examples of them like the others who had not performed up to his standards.

“We’ll never stop before the outgoing jumppoint,” the helmsman reminded him.

“We don’t have to. We can make several laps of the star as long as we put some more distance between us and those fekkers.”

“We could hit debris. The star charts…” he said, then stopped as the captain glared at him.

“Do you know a better option?”

The man gulped. He knew they were close to death, but a part of his brain wasn’t allowing that to sink in and he was defaulting to normal thought patterns. “No, captain. I don’t.”

“I wish you did, Bartin,” he said, turning back to the control board. The moment of decision was coming fast. They were pushing directly against the star to brake their speed, but as they drifted sideways that push was also creating a little lateral momentum to the upper left. The more they drifted off the jumpline the worse it would get, and if you didn’t do the calculations correctly you’d bounce off the star and not into orbit, lost in the darkness between with no sufficient gravity well to maneuver off of.

That would be a slow death of starvation…but that would probably be better than what Montose would do to them.

No, in fact it would be better, but the Hexdra wasn’t ready to give up yet.

As they got closer and closer to the golden star, the efficiency of the gravity drives increased exponentially and their speed slowed dramatically. The push to the side also increased dramatically, and as the star grew to fill the forward viewscreen, a sliver of black appeared on the upper left side as they began to slip around the star.

The Hexdra searched for two of the system’s planets that should have been on this side of the star and quickly latched two of his gravity drives onto them like tethers, giving him more steering ability. As the corvette tried to shoot out past the star to the side, those gravity pods pushed back, keeping it closer where it could brake more, but they almost nipped the star’s burning atmosphere, their speed so high they could not maintain orbit. They were going to spiral out of the system.

The Hexdra reversed the gravity drives, pulling on the star rather than pushing, and began pulling that spiral inward. The computer estimated that after another 7 ahsho (21 minutes) of continual thrust, they could enter a super-fast orbit of the star.

Nogalu leaned back in the helmsman’s chair and blew out a relieved breath. If those two planets hadn’t been there for the extra vector correction, the corvette would have been spiraling out to their eventual deaths.

“Keep us in a steady orbit,” he said, relinquishing the chair and returning to his a couple steps away. “Are they following?”

“Negative,” another Lieutenant said at the sensor board, which was literally a clear wall that was a cheap version of a holoprojector. He didn’t have a chair and had to stand there, but it gave him a lot more flexibility of movement as he tracked the braking lines of the two corvettes behind them. “They’re sticking to protocols. We’re going to have a good lead on them until we start to brake for our jumppoint. Maybe we should take another route to maximize our lead? They probably know where we’re heading.”

“If they do, can we get there first?”

“No way,” the helmsman said, running the numbers for their own ship. “We’re going to have to make a few laps of the star before we can bleed off all this speed. If they creep their way around, they can hold position there waiting for us to come in.”

“Captain! I’m detecting Imperial transponders in the system. Warships and civilian.”

“Whose are they?” the Hexdra demanded quickly.

“There’s an outpost on the fourth planet. Transponder says it’s…Outpost #02?”

“Are they Gorgo’s ships?”

“Yes and no. There’s one battleship, two cruisers, and four destroyers. The battleship was Gorgo’s, but the rest were not. And I mean it was his battleship. Serial number matches, but it’s reading under a different name. The Hammerstrike, sir. It says it’s attached to Grand Admiral Aatroxiss’s command.”

“Thank the Emperor,” Nogalu said happily. “Bren, get a message to them. Helm, get us to that Outpost as soon as you can…”

Three Sulos (37 hours) later…

“Hexdra…Nogalu, is it?”

“Yes, Captain,” he said, standing at attention before the viewscreen on his bridge now that they were within realtime comms of the battleship.

“I’ve been studying the report you sent. The disturbing stuff aside, I’m surprised you made it this far.”

“It wasn’t easy, sir.”

“No, I suppose not. How did you know we were here? This Outpost didn’t exist before the courier was sent to Naugh.”

“We had no idea you were here, sir. We were enroute to Outpost #01 and just passing through this system.”

“I see. Well, for the time being you can remain here under my command until the Grand Admiral wants you elsewhere. That may take a while, given we don’t have interstellar communications yet, but there’s a scheduled courier that passes through here occasionally. We’ll get your report to him and he’ll eventually see it.”

“Thank you, Captain. It’s a relief to be away from Montose’s command.”

“I can imagine. The Grand Admiral is either going to put him in prison or atomize him, depending on how he responds when he catches him.”

“Catches him?” Nogalu asked, perplexed.

“I haven’t been in command for long,” Captain Levvit admitted, “but I served aboard the Grand Admiral’s flagship and I’ve become accustomed to his way of thinking. There’s no possibility that he lets Montose continue to operate independently, nor will he let him remain in command of so much as a shuttle. He’s going down, Hexdra. Your friends will be avenged eventually.”

Nogalu nodded. “I hope so, sir. If I might ask, what is your mission here?”

“Defense of the system while we establish a new mining outpost on Deadspot.”

“Deadspot?” he asked, glancing briefly at his right to see if there was any planet named that in this system. Lieutenant Nimm confirmed there was not with a shake of his head.

“When we get your computer systems updated you’re going to see quite a few name changes the Grand Admiral has been making. As far as this planet goes, it only had a number before, but the incessant storm activity on the planet warrants the name. We confirmed the results of an old Imperial survey indicating there are excessive corovon, titanium, durrein, and iron deposits on the planet. All apparently untouched by the nearby alien populations due to the hazards of mining here. The atmosphere is breathable, but there are enough toxins in it to kill you within a dekka. And some of the larger storms do as much damage as a round of orbital bombardment, so we’re having to construct sub-surface facilities. In that respect, Deadspot seems like an appropriate name to me.”

“I won’t argue that. I just thought the Grand Admiral would be taking control of the existing mining planets.”

“So did I, but the Grand Admiral’s mind works in mysterious ways. Fortunately he sent along enough civilian ships that we’ve got a repair bay large enough to work on your corvette. Park her in the following coordinates and the ship will come to you. Then I want you and your crew to shuttle over to my battleship during the repair effort. You could probably use a long walk,” Levvit said, knowing from experience how cramped it got on a corvette that was approximately the same size as 5 or 6 assault shuttles put together.

“Yes, sir, we would. If I may ask, are we going to be reassigned?”

“Is that a request?”

“No, sir. I just wanted clarification.”

“I can reassign you anywhere in this planetary defense fleet, but beyond that it’s the Grand Admiral’s decision. If you want to rotate onto a bigger ship, I can make that happen.”

“I go where I’m needed, Captain.”

“As do we all,” he said, cutting the comm as the coordinates for their orbital rendezvous came through a moment later.

“Get us there,” Nogalu said, squeezing the armrest of his command chair. He had a funny feeling he was about to lose it, but no matter. The six of them were alive and had responded to the Grand Admiral’s recall order…eventually. Maybe there would be a penalty for that, but then again maybe not. Captain Levvit hadn’t seemed upset about their delayed arrival. But he had seemed upset about Captain Montose. He wondered what else had been going on with Montose that the Grand Admiral would have already known about, for it seemed like Montose’s career had already been at a quickly approaching end before he delivered his report of the conditions on Naugh.

No matter. As long as he didn’t get caught in the takedown, the Grand Admiral could do whatever he wanted with that frelling psychopath. And good riddance. Nearly a third of Naugh’s Imperial population had been exterminated in a series of loyalty purges over the past six years, and most of the indigenous Weuk population were gone. Their villages wiped off the map entirely. Only a few slaves were visible here and there, though Nogalu had been fortunate enough to remain in space most of the time not to see what was happening directly, but the stories he heard from his surviving friends when he was off ship still rattled him to the bone…

2

18834-5-13 (Imperial Calendar)

FRONTIER

System 93382

8th planet

Aatroxiss stood on the bridge of the light battleship Redemption, hands clasped behind his back as he stared out the window-like displays ahead as he saw the wreckage of some of his warships floating in a corral of sorts. Another one nearby held the wreckage of the defending ships…also Imperial. There had been a fight here when Admiral Corva arrived, and as a result Aatroxiss had two destroyed cruisers, one destroyer, four frigates, the loss of 33 starfighters, and in total 2,928 dead with another 1,382 injured.

And that was just the forces he sent here. The defenders had been almost entirely wiped out, with a handful of prisoners recovered from escape pods. The updated message Corva had sent him on approach to the planet had indicated no further combat since the courier had left the system, but it did detail the situation on the planet.

The Redemption had arrived with 8 sulos to spare. After that point, they were going to be short on rations for part of the captive populations on this world. Corva had been doing his best to utilize what they had without killing any of the slaves to feed the others…which had been going on before he had conquered the system. But even those barbaric measures could not make up for the lack of incoming supply traffic that Admiral Gorgo had been sending out here…and was now canceled due to his death.

The Grand Admiral was silent, and Captain Mahansey decided to leave him to his thoughts. If the Keeno really had a record of 12 to 1 ship losses in battle, then this carnage of his fleet…on both sides…had to be rankling him on the inside, though his expression showed nothing but calm, cold calculation as he surveyed the damage while the few cargo shuttles they’d brought with him began nudging their way out of the hangar bays that were stacked full of supply crates to the point where the shuttles almost didn’t fit inside.

“Admiral, we’re being hailed by Admiral Corva,” the comms Lieutenant said into the silence in a voice just above a whisper.

“Put him through,” Aatroxiss said, abandoning his post at the pinnacle of the raised deck and retreating back towards the holographic display of the system as it transitioned into a full-sized image of Corva.

“I see shuttles launching. Can I assume those are carrying supplies?” the holographic Imperial officer asked.

“You can,” Aatroxiss said, his face not so much as twitching as he stared into the other’s eyes…which prompted a twitch from Corva. “I have a convoy being escorted by warships enroute, but none of them can keep up with the Redemption so we came on ahead.”

“It’s a relief you’re here,” he said carefully. “Colonel Hacking has taken up command of the main facility with most of his troops and I’m keeping them supplied with our rations. The planet’s storehouses are practically empty.”

“What’s the head count?” Aatroxiss asked, for the report sent earlier did not include it as it was currently ongoing and Corva didn’t want to delay the courier because of the foodstuff crisis.

“17 alien populations totaling 2.9 million, and a captive Vixot count of a little over 200,000.”

Aatroxiss frowned. “That you captured?”

“No, sir. They were located elsewhere on the planet and we didn’t find them initially. Gorgo was breeding and harvesting them as well. They’re not workers. They’re livestock.”

“To Gorgo,” Aatroxiss corrected. “Let’s not sink to his definitions, shall we?”

“Victims,” Corva corrected. “It appears he was using them not just for transplant harvesting, but for a lot of other stuff including genetic experimentation. We recovered most of the files because the people who tried to destroy them had no idea how to handle explosives. They blew themselves up but left the computer systems mostly intact. It’s hard to believe how complex this operation was. Gorgo had dozens of projects going on simultaneous for each race. For the Vixot he was experimenting with creating super-soldiers, no cybernetic enhancements, as well as breeding beneficial traits for a number of other tasks, and was using growth enhancers to get them to adult size in one third the time.”

Aatroxiss knew what that meant. Growth enhancements usually caused longevity problems, because the individuals’ bodies were hastily constructed by rapid cellular growth, and that growth typically saw adult bodies malfunctioning in a variety of ways. Their lifespan would be curtailed greatly in most cases, but they’d survive long enough to reproduce the next generation. Gorgo wasn’t the first to do such things within the Empire, or elsewhere in the galaxy, unfortunately.

“Have any customers showed up to collect?”

“A few Imperial transport ships have entered the system and abruptly left. No alien contacts as yet, but this operation was selling body parts to more than 130 distinct governments. Same goes for slaves, augments, breeders, and corpse products,” Corva said, some distaste beginning to show in his otherwise numb features. “As far as we can tell, he wasn’t exporting test subjects. The experimental stuff he was keeping for himself or future sales, I’m not sure which.”

“Are the Vixot in a state to be of help to us?”

Corva shook his head in the negative. “They’re uneducated and can barely speak to each other. They wouldn’t understand the most basic of technology without considerable training. Gorgo was treating them as property no different than the aliens. He was even selling some of their tissues for transplants into aliens, which I find particularly disgusting.”

“I find all of it disgusting, Admiral, but this is the first I’ve ever heard of transplants for the purpose of upgrades. Typically it has always been a cheap method of failing organ replacement.”

“Neither have I, Grand Admiral. It seems there is a market for such replacement or augmentation surgeries across the Frontier. Some of the customers were coming here, but others were purchasing organs to be shipped elsewhere for implantation. We’ve got a few locations now, if you want to pursue this further.”

“In time, Admiral. How are the current test subjects faring?”

Corva grimaced. “Many have died despite our efforts to sustain them. The experiments were not designed to have them survive for long, and those that did would be terminated anyway. The price of scientific advancement, I suppose one could argue, but to kill the ones that survived the experiments is just disrespectful, in my opinion.”

“Admiral, I know it takes a lot of emotional numbing to deal with what you’ve found here, but let me make a few points clear for future reference,” Aatroxiss said, a hint of anger in his voice. “Point 1 is that scientific advancement does not require harmful experimentation. Science is about thinking, not torturing people to see what happens when you inject this chemical into them or cut this body part off. Those people who were doing these experiments were not doctors. Doctors are healers, and this is not science. This is barbarism masquerading as science.”

“It is excessive, I agree. But I wasn’t aware that the medical sciences could advance without at least limited experimentation? Gorgo’s operations here are illegal, but within the Empire similar experiments happen. I was taught they must or society does not medically advance,” he stated carefully, but was obviously fishing for a response.

Corva was smart, but had spent very little time around Aatroxiss, and beside the Grand Admiral, out of view, Captain Mahansey was shaking his head slowly at the rookie mistake.

“Admiral, medical experimentation of this sort is the equivalent of a demolitions expert blowing up walkers in order to see what’s inside them. A mechanic can get inside, look around, and even tinker with components without damaging the walker. True doctors are the same.”

Corva frowned. “But how do you test new drugs without risking harm to the subjects?”

“Admiral, medicine is more about proper food than it is drugs. Biologicals are designed to heal themselves, and doctors find ways to assist in that healing. No drug heals a person. Cellular regeneration occurs with the input of new nutrients and lost cells are replaced with new ones. Drugs do not heal. They are strategic weapons supposed to be utilized in only rare circumstances. Mandatory medicated populations are nothing more than control mechanisms for the Empire, many of which are designed to reduce population size under the cover of plausible deniability. You may have escaped much of that in the Frontier due to lack of pharmaceutical supplies, but I’ve personally seen some of the populations that have been heavily medicated. It is not for their benefit.”

“As you say, Grand Admiral. How then do you develop the strategic drugs without experimentation?”

Aatroxiss finally sighed. He’d hoped for more than this with Corva, but anyone rising to rank within the Empire was probably going to be deluded or complicit to some extent with their evil.

He glanced to the side at where Mahansey stood. “I wasn’t expecting to add any Standing Orders today, but it seems like I need to.”

The Captain retreated to his chair and tapped a few buttons, activating the recorder that would transcribe what he said into text, and then the Captain would adjust the text as needed. This had already happened a few times, and Mahansey was the one tasked with making sure the crew and the rest of the Fleet were informed and understood every new Standing Order to go into effect.

“Ready, Admiral.”

“Standing Order 12.1,” Aatroxiss said, looking back at Corva. “Medical experimentation can only be conducted upon those test subjects that agree to the procedure.”

“Standing Order 12.2, races too primitive to give their consent shall not be experimented on under any circumstances.”

“Standing Order 12.3, any individual who gives consent but is not fully aware of what they are consenting to is hereby barred from experimentation.”

“Standing Order 12.4, no deliberately harmful experimentation is allowed.”

“Standing Order 12.5, the status quo is preferable to advancing through dishonorable means.”

Aatroxiss nodded at Mahansey, indicating that he was finished for the moment, and the Captain began correlating and logging those five subpoints to the new Standing Order.

But Admiral Corva was not convinced.

“Grand Admiral, how does that leave any room for the pharmaceutical companies in the Frontier to exist? We’re lucky to have the few offshoots that we do, and High Admiral Mubarak had to work extremely hard to get some of them to establish branches out here.”

“Guilder and medicine do not mix well, Admiral. When your business is treating sick people, you require sick people. So, from a corporate perspective, you need a supply of sick people. If you cure everyone, you lose your customers and you go bankrupt. So they ‘treat’ people indefinitely, and many times will deliberately make people sick to get them on the treatment rolls as repeat customers. To put a fine point on it, Admiral, while there is an honorable way for some pharmaceutical companies to operate, most of the existing ones need to be shut down.”

“How can you make that work?” he said, slight panic in his voice. “Without the necessary medicines our people will die out here even faster than they are now.”

“Proper food will do them more good than any drug, Admiral. As will proper infrastructure and training. My skills do not only lie in the art of war, but in the art of building. Drugs are for emergencies only. No one should be taking them habitually. And if the pharmaceutical companies are capable of torturing individuals to death to do research, do you really want to trust such immoral people with your personal care?”

“Doctors care for you. Pharmaceutical companies only provide the drugs.”

“By chance did you ever hear of the plague of Sestis 11?”

Corva shook his head in the negative.

“A small world not part of the Empire in District 4. The native Yui population became ill very fast from an unknown source. An expert from the Do-Sho-Rin Corporation was called in from the Empire on humanitarian grounds, and within a dekka there were relief medical ships arriving to treat the population with one of their drugs. It worked spectacularly well, and should have, given the fact that the Do-Sho-Rin infected the population in the first place so they could sell them the cure on the cheap.”

“I find that hard to believe, Grand Admiral.”

“Furthermore,” Aatroxiss went on. “The cure also altered their genetic code slightly. They were never informed of this, but from that point on there would be periodic plagues of different sorts affecting them, and each time the Do-Sho-Rin would come in to save the day, offering discounts, but never giving their help for free. This continued until the Chief Executive of the company died under mysterious circumstances. After that the corporation never set foot on Sestis 11 again. No new illnesses broke out, and the planet went back to being ignored by everyone other than me. And with some help, we were able to undo the genetic changes they had made to the population to create a weak spot in their immune system to allow the artificially created plagues to ravage them when otherwise their immune systems would have adapted and shut it down after the standard amount of time.”

“How do you know they were responsible for the genetic alteration?”

“I found the files in their databanks when I visited their headquarters.”

Corva’s face scrunched up. “That was your doing?”

“If you’re referring to the destruction of the building, yes, that was my doing. The death of the executive was not, however. I believe he was taken out by others in the Do-Sho-Rin for his failure in handling the situation properly when certain files made their way to certain individuals. So I’ve had considerable experience with the pharmaceutical companies’ lack of morality. They are an industry that should not exist, much like what was happening on this planet. Is the Do-Sho-Rin operating in Mubarak’s territory?”

Corva grimaced. “They are. But I would argue that at least some of what they’re doing is necessary.”

“I know otherwise, Admiral. The Empire has many lies woven into its culture, and the necessity of drugs is one of them. The Do-Sho-Rin will be leaving the Frontier along with the rest of the trash I’m clearing out, and I don’t care what deal Mubarak had with them. Is that clear?”

“It is,” Corva said reluctantly. “But I still do not see how you will create a substitute for their legal research. Using animals alone doesn’t translate into Vixot biology very well,” he said, catching himself. His eyes went wide. “Does your Standing Order preclude animals also?”

“Are any of the animal races you’re thinking of advanced enough to understand and give consent, Admiral?” he growled, more at the lack of intelligence he was showing than to make a point.

But the point wasn’t lost on Corva, who raised his hands slightly in a gesture of inevitability. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Grand Admiral. Mubarak worked hard to get those factories out here.”

“And research facilities?” Aatroxiss asked, not having seen any listed in Mubarak’s holdings.

“Sanctioned ones, yes.”

“Strange that those were not listed in his holdings,” he said warily, letting the silence eat into Corva’s guarded expression. “Is there anyone in the Frontier that isn’t corrupt?”

“Resources and guilder are hard to come by out here, so people adjust to the reality of the situation,” Corva said with a shrug. “I know Do-Sho-Rin has a few facilities here that High Command is not aware of. I was told they were animal-only testing, but don’t know any more than that. I suggest you speak with Mubarak before implementing that Standing Order, so that you will at least understand the consequences of the change beforehand.”

“Unnecessary. To civilize the Frontier one must remove all the barbarism, so it cannot stand in any case. How many other pharmaceutical companies did Mubarak make deals with?”

“That I know of, only three. And they’ve been both a medical and economic lifeline out here. We couldn’t usually get even basic medical supplies before they set up shop and started manufacturing them locally.”

“Have you seen any evidence of them being linked to Gorgo?”

Corva looked even more stricken. “Yes. They were supplying some of the organ stabilizing drugs used prior to…harvesting the victims.”

“And you don’t think they should be taken down?”

“It’s just that I’d hate to break something without a replacement for it. The economy out here is both chaotic and fragile. I don’t want to see more people die from lack of medicine in order to save some animals.”

“The strong are meant to protect the weak, Admiral. Not abuse them. The fact that you do not yet understand that means you are not fit to be an Admiral. But since you have conducted this operation honorably, and unless I find contradictions here with your report, your permanent rank of Commander is hereby elevated to Captain. Your brevet rank of Admiral stands as is.”

Corva nodded, knowing that would amount to a pay raise and a few other things, though operationally it was moot. “Thank you, Grand Admiral.”

“Is your Star Carrier fit to travel?”

“It is.”

“Then your assignment here is concluded, and you are ordered to return to Mubarak’s command and explain to him the new Standing Order. Also inform him that I am getting all the medical supplies out of the Empire that I want through my agreement with the Emperor and will begin construction of proper medical factories in due time to produce some of the common items locally. Side deals with pharmaceutical companies are not necessary, and I expect him to adjust honorably and intelligently to the new paradigm I am setting up. If he cannot do that, he will not remain a High Admiral, for I should not have to spell things out to a High Admiral. They are supposed to be able to operate independently and produce honorable results, not consort with the scum of the galaxy to bolster the economy.”

Corva gulped. “To my knowledge, what they are doing is legal.”

“Legal does not turn evil into right, Admiral. And if you want citizens to respect the legal code, you have to base it on more than ‘the authorities said so.’ The laws must be supported by wisdom, otherwise they are nothing more than empty words. My Standing Orders may be implemented because I said so, but they will stand the test of time because they are wise. Governments who insist their laws be followed simply because they say so are governments that are begging to be overthrown. Leadership doesn’t just come with perks, Admiral. It comes with responsibility and expectations. One expectation is that the leaders are smarter, more experienced, and more moral than the common man. If that basic criteria cannot be met, an honorable overthrow is probably in everyone’s best interest.”

“Are you directing that at the High Admiral or the Emperor?” he said with a hint of a challenge.

“Whoever it may concern. Though to be clear, the Emperor knows how I think on such matters and gave me command anyway. So don’t assume there is any rift between us. I’m here to do what he cannot, and what all of you cannot. So change is happening, otherwise what would be the point of him sending me out here?”

“I will inform the High Admiral of the changes in policy,” Corva said, now thoroughly icy. “Do you have any other instructions, Grand Admiral?”

“Are any troops still onboard your Star Carrier?”

“They are all down on the planet.”

“Then you may depart the system immediately, Admiral.”

Corva nodded once, then cut the transmission. Aatroxiss turned and looked at Mahansey who just shook his head again.

“Some officers just don’t know how to pull their foot out of their mouth,” the Captain said, more disappointed than amused. “I’m surprised you still promoted him.”

“A great many people would have starved to death here if I hadn’t sent him and he hadn’t won this battle,” Aatroxiss said, glancing back out at the graveyard of Imperial ships floating with the largest pieces tethered together so they didn’t drift off. “He deserves credit for that, but I can’t trust command officers who do not know how to use their conscience.”

“He also tipped his hand with Mubarak.”

“Allegiances being made is nothing new, Captain. Especially in an environment where it is typical for your own to backstab you. But there is no way to stabilize the Frontier without cultivating a Fleet-wide sense of trust in one another. Not a fake sense, Captain, but a real one. And anyone who thinks it’s ok to torture so much as an ant to achieve their objectives is not someone who has a mindset cut out to be a protector.”

“A year ago I would not have understood that. Today, I think I’m starting to.”

“Learning takes time, Captain. Time that a lot of people out here don’t have. I would have preferred to keep Corva around, but not now…” he said as the holographic map showed the Star Carrier beginning to break away from the Fleet and head for the jumppoint to the star. “And we’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do on the surface. I have nowhere to transport these people to, so they’re going to have to live here and make something of it.”

“Including the Vixot prisoners?”

“Unfortunately yes. If what he said was true, they’re not fit to integrate with any Imperial colony. I need to verify a few things myself. Find Colonel Hacking and have him prepare to meet me on the surface. Then see to the Fleet here.”

“Understood,” Mahansey said, knowing that meant reincorporating these ships into the flagship’s command structure, getting damage and injury reports from them, as well as setting up repair schedules for when the supply convoy arrived with the necessary repair ships to put them back into working order again…for the most part. They couldn’t build new weapon systems on the spot, but they could repair hull damage and swap in a few weapon systems and shield generators if they had them in inventory. “Do you want a personal shuttle?”

Aatroxiss shook his head, knowing they needed the few they had running supplies down to the surface as quickly as possible. “No. I’ll ride down on a shipment. But find as many shuttles in the Fleet as you can and get them all unloading the Redemption.”

“Honor guard?”

“The Colonel’s troops are already there, Captain,” he said, passing by Mahansey and heading for the lift while steeling himself for the horrors he would have to face below. Harshoo had been bad enough, but some of the stuff he’d read about in Corva’s lengthy report was even more psychopathic…

3

Aatroxiss stood in the cockpit of the shuttle behind the pair of pilots in their seats, for there was no other room available for him to sit or stand. Every square bumo (1.2 meters) was filled with supply crates ranging from those wider than a person to small cases of micronutrients that would be essential for fast recovery of people who were experiencing depravation. Nutrients were repair parts for the body, and it could only heal as fast as it got the necessary parts, and regular food would allow for a slow and steady recovery. Hence micronutrient tablets, small in size but large in concentration, were being shipped down to the planet in small carrying cases filling the normally empty space in the back of the cockpit and down the hall to the main cargo area.

The pilots had to enter through the emergency side hatch, and when they set down on a set of very large pancrete landing pads, it was through that opening that Aatroxiss squeezed his way out with one of the pilots having to lean forward in his seat to make room for him to pass, for they were staying put and taking off again as soon as they were unloaded.

When the Grand Admiral hit the tarmac there were already teams of Hacking’s troopers heading up the rear ramp and pulling crates out like an army of yellow-armored ants. He stood there for a moment observing the process as well as the scenery around him. Multiple shuttles were unloading, for practically every one in the assembled fleet in orbit, whether they were from warships or the civilian freighters sent here initially, were helping unload the Redemption as fast as possible.

But the sea of pancrete around him and the adjacent service buildings testified to a massive operation…not some small research outpost. This was built as a high traffic spaceport, and he wondered exactly who it was designed for. Corva’s report had been exhaustive in operational details, but not in the kind of information Aatroxiss needed. And by the time Colonel Hacking arrived in a non-military landspeeder, he was already adding several new ones to his mental list.

“Sir,” the helmetless Colonel said, though he still wore the rest of his armor with his bucket visible in the back seat of the open-topped speeder. “I didn’t know you were coming so soon.”

“Time matters, Colonel, and I didn’t want to waste any. Bring me up to speed.”

“The fighting is over, and these nubots didn’t want to be taken alive. They all fought to the death, but we managed to grab some prisoners for you. We’re holding some of them in an auxiliary structure under heavy guard. They’re augmented, so we’re keeping them segregated.”

“Augmented?”

Hacking’s face twisted up in revulsion. “They’ve had body parts from aliens grafted onto their own to increase their speed and strength. Some of them can jump frenning high too. They caught some of my people off guard initially. I lost 43 troopers to those freaks before we figured out how to fight them. The armor they wore was also reinforced. I think Gorgo was building his own shock troops and had them here for experimental purposes. The security forces were not hard to handle, but there was a lot of them. We also took some scientists prisoner, but most committed suicide before we could get to them.”

“What’s the food situation?”

“They’re got the various races in different paddocks, and some of them grow their own food. It’s not enough to sustain them, but it cuts down on how much they need to be fed. Some of them can eat grass, but the rest have to be fed from offworld or from the corpses of the other aliens. They’re nearly at the point of losses due to malnourishment. We’ve cut their rations as low as we dared, but a few more sulos and there’d be nothing left except what was grown locally. How much did you bring with you?”

“As much as we could pack into the Redemption, but I’ve got a relief convoy following us.”

“I’m glad you decided to come on ahead. This fyek of a planet was bad enough already, but it was about to get much worse.”

“Where are the test subjects?”

“Most are in the main facility. A few were transported up to the medical ship, but they’re in horrible shape, sir. Either ill or missing body parts. Some have had others grafted on and it looks like the grafts failed. They’re messed up bad. The medical staff quietly thinks most are hopeless, but they’re keeping them alive as long as possible per your orders.”

“Take me to them,” Aatroxiss said, knowing that every moment he delayed he might lose more of them.

“It’s not a pretty sight, sir. Some of my men are still having issues with what they’ve seen.”

“I can do more than look, Colonel. Which way?”

“Hop in and I’ll take you there,” he said, climbing back in the rear of the speeder that had another two troopers sitting in the front seats, one of which held his rifle at the ready in shotgun position.

“I thought you said the fighting was over,” the Grand Admiral commented as he got in and they slowly began accelerating across the landing pads towards the cluster of buildings on the perimeter.

“Some of the prisoners were released when scuttling detonations damaged paddock walls. We got them patched up, but we have no way of knowing how many are still loose since the cameras went down with the walls. We probably found them all, but we’re not taking chances.”

Aatroxiss looked off to the right, seeing the edge of a jungle beyond the landing pads. “Have your men been getting ambushed?”

“A few times. We caught the Turook that killed three of my men, but the reptiles are the worst. They’re biological walkers with skin so tough it’s better protection than my armor. I think they were researching it, or maybe trying to make those things into troopers. I don’t really want to know, but their teeth and claws are more lethal than the Turook. The other races are more annoying than dangerous. And the reptiles are pretty much refusing to eat anything other than body parts. It’s what the staff here was feeding them, and we’ve been giving them what was in storage. They’ve got a lot of frozen organs in stock. I think they were selling them offworld. We’ve been feeding them to the reptiles. I hope that is alright with you, sir? I didn’t want them starving, and I didn’t want to waste rations on them that they wouldn’t eat.”

“Predator races have instincts you have to understand when it comes to food, Colonel. They can eat proper food, it’s just a matter of convincing them to do it for the first time. Once it becomes habit there’s no issue. Do you know who the organs were being sold to?”

“A lot of aliens and some Imperials. I don’t know much about the first group, but there’s a trade network running ships back to the Districts that we found detailed in the shipping records, and others to different places in the Frontier, but most of the Imperial transfers were back home. The bulk of the shipments were to aliens worlds, though. Not much documentation on those, other than delivery points. There are what we think are contracts, but they’re not in basic, so we couldn’t make anything of them.”

“I need you to transfer some of those frozen organs to where the test subjects are. The sooner the better.”

“Which type do you need?” he asked, bewildered.

“Doesn’t matter. I just need the biomass,” he said as they cleared the tarmac and got onto paved streets between various buildings that rose multiple stories high in a small city that appeared to be of new and very high end construction. Even the street markers were ornately engraved.

Hacking pulled his helmet back on and made the necessary calls, and by the time they arrived at one building in particular he assured the Grand Admiral that a cargo sled of the packaged organs would be enroute shortly.

Aatroxiss paused outside the building for a moment, steeling himself for what was to come, then walked in through the diagonal-parting doors into a well-lit corridor that smelled of fresh filtered air that took the oppressive humidity and particulate out of the exterior jungle environment. And at the end of the corridor a group of medical staff…his own, brought here in Corva’s convoy…rushed to greet him.

“Grand…Admiral…” a gold-skinned Vitox said between panting breaths from half running to get here in time. “Welcome.”

“I need to see the worst of the test subjects you have here immediately,” he said, but the doctor shook his head.

“You can’t speak with them. We’re having to keep them sedated. Their metabolism is so messed up that even mild exertion can cause damage. Others want to tear themselves apart when not restrained, and some are contagious with a range of mild to extremely dangerous pathogens and toxins. This facility has a wing that functions as an end stage bioweapons lab, but there’s a much larger one set apart from the city for safety reasons.”

“Which test subject is closest to death?”

“There are a pair of Novu that I don’t think will last the sulo in the surgery wing. They’ve had transplants that are not taking. We looked for replacement organs to try and swap them out, but there are no matches and, frankly, the techniques used here are experimental and unfamiliar to my team. Not to mention illegal. Even if we had replacements, I’m not sure if I could figure out how…”

“Why are there not replacements? I was told there is a warehouse of frozen organs.”

“From specific races for specific purposes. The two Novu were experimental procedures with different organs in different configurations.”

“Were they genetically altered?”

“Not those two. Just vivisected and rebuilt…sloppily, I might add. I don’t think they were supposed to survive, just used as a baseline for…”

“Later,” Aatroxiss said impatiently. “Take me to them now.”

The doctor frowned as he glanced at some of his colleagues, all of whom were Vitox dressed in gown-like robes that were tight at the neck and arms, but loose elsewhere and glowing with status lights where their personal hygienic shield generators were worked into the clothing.

“I thought I said they couldn’t speak?”

“Now doctor,” Aatroxiss said, his voice a growl that left no room for argument.

The head doctor blanched and took a step backward before his mind caught up. “Yes, Grand Admiral. This way…”

Hacking was left at the entrance to coordinate the cargo transfer as Aatroxiss went with the doctors through multiple corridors and two lift shafts before arriving at the appropriate wing of the experimental complex. And when they passed through a final door the sight of horrifically mutilated individuals greeted him, each in an isolation cell separated by clear walls half as thick as his hand was long. Some had parts missing, others had new ones added, and even though some of the races were unfamiliar to him, he could tell what wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Which Novu?” he said, seeing several of the frog-like amphibians sitting in water inside their individual cells.

“Down here,” the doctor said, seeming to not be affected by the sight. Either he was apathetic or had compartmentalized his mind in order to work through this. Aatroxiss didn’t know which, but he needed people here who wouldn’t break down at what they saw, and was glad at least the Empire had people who could carry out his orders even if their mindsets were suspect.

He looked over the clear wall, not seeing any sign of an entry point. “Where is the door?”

“On the opposite side, but these pods are designed to interact with the subject without needing to be inside. There are robotic arms in the ceiling that can be utilized…”

“Are either of these contagious?”

“Contagious? No, they’re kept pathogen free. Otherwise the grafts would be further contam…” he said, ending with a scream as Aatroxiss punched his stiffened fingers into the clear wall of the closest one and fractured it with a single hit. He pulled his hand back and punched it with his fist twice, further breaking it with cracks showing everywhere but it still remaining in mostly one piece.

“What are you doing!” the doctor said, but a wall of shards coming back his way cut off any further comment as the Grand Admiral put a final hand on the wall and pulled as if it was adhesively attached.

The Novu didn’t even move. It was so sedated it either couldn’t sense it or couldn’t react, and Aatroxiss knelt down in the puddle that was partly spilling out onto the floor around the doctors. He placed a hand on the head of the Novu near part of its skull that was missing. A new mass had been added in and was extending above it in three bulbous growths of tissue that clearly didn’t belong to this race.

“What the fek are you doing, Admiral!” the doctor screamed again, but Aatroxiss just turned back angry eyes on him and silenced the entire lot of panicked doctors.

“You were never trained properly,” he said simply as he worked the Kalla into the Novu. “The Empire has a lot of medical knowledge, but no wisdom to implement it. You should be crafting solutions, not creating additional problems. Help was once offered, long ago, but the Emperor refused it. Many worlds beyond the Empire have proper medicine dedicated to healing and rejuvenation due to the assistance of the Keeno,” he said as the growths began to ever so slightly shrink. “Now witness the power of the Kalla and true medicine.”

He turned his gaze back to the Novu, but it took a long time before one of the other doctors realized something was happening. They were all still shocked at him being able to break through the security glass with his bare hands and their minds were slow to return to the patient whose skin was altering color back towards a healthy deep green for a Novu and away from the black/purple that had been covering nearly its entire body. The lumps were also withering away with increasing speed, and finally one of them noticed.

“Emperor’s grace,” he swore in amazement. “How is this possible?”

Aatroxiss didn’t answer, and all the others had their eyes glued onto the transformation. The graft wasn’t just shrinking, it was being dismantled and used for repair parts throughout the Novu’s body. That was a bit of luck, otherwise he would have had to wait for Hacking, and this poor guy might not have lived even that long. He was a mess inside beyond just where the grafts had been installed. They’d been poisoning his entire body, not to mention his mind…which still might be broken afterwards, but at least this guy would have a fighting chance from that point on.

The slow transformation played out in silence as no more questions were asked. The piece of skull that had been removed began to regrow and seal over the hole in his head, then new skin flowed across the gap, covering his head in a smooth sheen once again as the remainder of the growths that had not been use dropped to the floor and made a black goo smear in the bit of water there that had not spilled out of the chamber.

Aatroxiss held his hand on him a little while longer, making microscopic repairs throughout his body and putting him into a deep coma that would last more than a sulo so both his body and brain could adjust to the rapid healing aftereffects. It was quite painful, which was why Aatroxiss never attempted such things without numbing them up first. But if this one woke up now, there would still be a great deal of pain. So it was best to keep him asleep as his body adjusted to the new tissue grown from his existing genetic code and cells. Helping those with genetic alterations would require more than his Keeno skills could offer.

He finally stood up and looked back at the shocked doctors.

“Explanations will come later,” he said stoically. “Where’s the next patient closest to death?”

The lead doctor looked to the left and pointed two cells down, then Aatroxiss followed his finger and proceeded to break through that clear wall violently, venting some of his lingering anger on it, before kneeling down into the outflowing water and beginning to work on the next Novu…

4

Aatroxiss returned to the ship some 13 ahka (15.6 hours) later and went straight to his quarters. His head hurt immensely while his body was only mildly fatigued. Guiding the Kalla required a strong mental component and he had not stopped until his Kalla well got dangerously low. As a result, he’d overtaxed his brain and it felt like he had several knives jabbing into it with each step he took.

When he got to his quarters he entered through the residential side, only to half glance into his work area as he passed heading for a long warm shower to try and unknot his head a bit before getting some sleep. But as his mind couldn’t quite process what he saw in his peripheral vision, he backtracked a few steps to see Illana sitting in his chair working at his station completely nude.

“You’re usually a little more subtle than that,” he said, walking into the doorway between the two sections.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she said, staring at a holographic screen and not him. “When I got here I borrowed your bug scanner…which you really need to get more of for me, because that thing is top notch. Anyway, it picked up on something. Turns out the room was clear, but the bug was in my clothing,” she said, not a trace of flirtiness in her tone. “And not just one. Three in separate pieces. I’m trying to find the lot they were in in storage. All your clothes came up clean.”

“You could have borrowed some of mine,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb carefully. As badly as he needed to rest, someone onboard the ship planting listening devices was something that had to be dealt with immediately…let alone in the clothing of his cybersecurity chief.

“I didn’t think you’d mind the view, but I’m not walking back to my quarters like this. I’ll grab some on the way out. Still, leaving in your clothes will spread even more rumors about me being your concubine. A pity they’re not true.”

“Illana, I have a really bad need for sleep right now, so can we skip the inuendo please.”

She finally turned to look at him. “You don’t look tired.”

“Fried is more the word. I had to use up most of my Kalla healing the worst of the test subjects. It’ll take me sulos before I can do it again and there are a lot more that need healing, but none are going to die in the next few days. I got some of the ones I can’t fix patched up enough, but they’re going to need genetic therapy. Can you run down this bug planter on your own?”

“Way ahead of you,” she said, tapping at the hologram. “I’ll nail the nubot, trust me. But there’s a chance he might jump ships. That’ll take longer if he does. I also want to do checks of your independent systems to make sure no malware has got leeched into it. I’ll be here a while, so go ahead and sleep.”

“Promise me I won’t wake up with you beside me?”

She half turned and smirked at him. “Wouldn’t think of it. Besides, I’m too ticked right now. This guy did this on my ship and on my own clothing without me knowing it. I’m the one person that never gets scanned, so it was a clever idea.”

“Where are your clothes?”

“Under water in your sink. The bugs are probably waterproof, but I didn’t want them listening to us talk and I didn’t want to smash them. I need them analyzed. They’re too small to be standard Imperial gear, and I haven’t been able to find a match in the database. Right now I’m just trying to backtrack how they got into my quarters, because nobody actually went in there to place them. So they had to do it in storage.”

“So there could be a lot floating around on the crew.”

“Maybe. I can’t check on that until I leave, and it’s better if whoever is monitoring thinks I’m here for you rather than tracking his ass down. Don’t make any mention of this to anyone, not even in records.”

“I understand. Were they in your underwear too?”

“Top piece, yeah. I had to take everything off to thoroughly scan it and didn’t feel like putting odd pieces back on. Besides, your gizmo barely picks them up at point-blank range. It might take a full security arch to otherwise detect them.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Me neither. I doubt this is ICAP remnants. They don’t have anything this advanced on file, and wouldn’t waste it on regular warships. This is something high end and new, possibly experimental, or I’d have blueprints for it. Assuming the Emperor didn’t lie about your unlimited access.”

“Special teams with highly classified equipment will probably have it custom made, so there won’t be blueprints to find.”

Illana sighed. “You’re probably right about that. My dad had a few weapons like that. No reason they can’t do it with bugs either.”

“The transmission range can’t be great though.”

“No, it’s not. I’m guessing less than a bumo. So I’d have to basically touch whatever would be receiving it. That’s another reason I don’t want to go back to my quarters yet.”

“I thought you said nobody went in them?”

“True, but they’d have to place the receiver somewhere they knew I’d go. They could have put one in the walls or floor from the other side.”

Aatroxiss sighed. He hadn’t even considered that. “Smart girl. Nice to see your injuries healed up.”

“You could have checked earlier, you know,” she said with a wink before turning back to the computer screen. “Now go and sleep. I’ll handle this.”

“I’m taking a shower first.”

“Mind if I peek?”

“Help yourself, just don’t join me.”

She frowned at him. “You really are beat up, aren’t you?”

“Controlling the Kalla healing isn’t something you can be lax at. It’s a hyperactive mental state and I’ve never used it that much that fast. I’ll recover, I just don’t know how long it will take. Hopefully before I recharge enough to heal some more of them.”

“You told me you couldn’t control it.”

“Maybe guide is the better word. My head hurts and you’re looking very cozy, so I don’t have much brain power left to spare on word choice.”

“Cozy? You mean you’re having to apply brain power to resist my allure?”

“A little bit, but since I only have a little bit to work with, it takes more of an effort.”

“Wow, that was almost a compliment.”

“As you said, you’ve grown up,” Aatroxiss admitted, pushing himself off the archway and towards the refresher.

She stared after him, not believing he’d just said that, then turned back to the glowing screen with a smile on her face as she heard the shower turn on as she resumed her search for their shipboard spy.

Aatroxiss woke up to a finger in his chest, poking numerous times before his left hand snapped into action and caught it before the fifth poke.

“Ow,” Illana said as he opened his sleep-drenched eyes and looked up at her, still holding her finger.

“I said to stay out of my bed,” he reiterated, still not fully awake.

“I’m not in it,” she said, using her other hand to pry her finger free as he noticed she was dressed, and not in his clothes. “You’ve slept over two sulos.”

He frowned and sat up, shaking the sleep out of his brain. “Feels more like two ahka. Why did you wake me?”

“Didn’t think Mahansey should be left to handle the riot on the surface,” she said as his eyes snapped onto her. “Someone let the Vixot out, and they’re not all the dumb, uneducated brutes that Corva promised.”

“How long ago?”

“I just got word from Hacking. I routed all your personal calls to me so you could sleep.”

Aatroxiss rotated his legs off the bed and his bare feet onto the floor then stood up…only to wobble and fall back down into a sitting position. “What the fren…” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it.

Illana frowned and sat down beside him. “I’m assuming that’s not normal.”

“I feel worse than before I went to sleep. Something’s wrong.”

“Headache?”

“No…this is…wait a mito,” he said, pulling his legs up onto the bed in a cross-legged position that almost knocked him over backwards, but he held it and closed his eyes for a long time. Illana waited, then was getting so impatient that she was almost going to interrupt him when he finally came back from wherever he was and angrily looked at her. “Poison.”

She scowled. “How do you know?”

He held up a hand and unfurled his six fingers, and in his palm was a small pool of white liquid. “Get someone with a sample kit here. I don’t know what it is.”

“How did you…what did you just do?”

“I pulled it out of my body…most of it, anyway. I might have missed some traces. Please get that kit, it’s trying to reabsorb as I hold it.”

“Well, you’re full of surprises,” she said, touching her earpiece and having a quick one-sided conversation as Aatroxiss just sat there in his thin silver robe.

“On its way. Can that be aero?”

“Delivery maybe, but it’s a stable liquid. I just don’t know what it is.”

“Let me guess, you’re familiar with poisons too.”

“I have a lot of skills,” he said, thinking of something else. “Anything on the spy?”

“Still tracking him down, but I found a receiver and recharging unit for the bugs inside the wall of my quarters next to drawers I keep my clothes in.”

“Better check mine. I may not have picked this up on the planet,” he said, staring at her harshly.

Illana chewed on her lip for a moment. “Nobody came in when I was here, and I was monitoring your exterior door cameras in case someone tried to wake you. I set the doors to lock out everyone but me.”

“Why?”

“Thought you needed uninterrupted sleep. Would you have woken up if I didn’t come in just now?”

“I’ll let you know when you tell me what this is?” he said, gesturing his chin towards his hovering hand.

“If it happened here, we don’t just have a spy onboard. We have an assassin.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“You think you were exposed here then?”

“Poison usually works fast unless it’s slowly accumulated, and I didn’t sense anything wrong when I went to sleep. My head was another issue. Tell Hacking to inform the Vixot that we’ll be returning them to civilization shortly, and that I want a report from all those that were taken where they come from, what happened there, and what’s been happening here. Tell him to find somewhere other than the paddocks to do the interrogations. That should keep them busy until I can get down there.”

“You were just poisoned,” she reminded him. “Are you saying you’re good to go after an ahsho?”

“No. I’ve still got some damage to heal up, but the head fog is gone.”

“Do you have a Kalla technique for that too?”

He glanced at her, but ignored the question. “Check the shower. I’m using an aura to pull the poison out, and it’s not registering any in my clothing or the bed.”

“Check it how?”

“I mean with the sample kit. Then get a scanning crew to go over everything in the refresher and my closet. Those are the only places I’ve been since I got back. Don’t go through the rest of my stuff.”

“Touchy. What exactly are you hiding in here?”

“Are you saying you haven’t looked?”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But I didn’t ransack your room, if that’s what you’re implying. But if we don’t find the source of the poison, I may need to.”

Aatroxiss shook his head just before the door chime sounded. “If it comes to that I’ll do it,” he said as Illana walked over to the other half of his quarters and let in a trio of medical personnel through the locked door.

“In there,” her voice said, then the first through the door hesitated when he saw the Grand Admiral out of uniform and sitting on his bed.

“Collect this liquid,” he ordered simply, raising his hand further out. “Assume it’s toxic.”

The first medical officer pulled out a hexagonal box twice as large as his hand and opened the lid for the Grand Admiral to pour the white poison into it, then he held his hand over it while some invisible force cleaned it off and a few last drops fell inside before he withdrew his hand.

“We need to sterilize your hand,” another one said, pulling out a glowing rod. “Where did you find it?”

“I drew it from inside my body,” he said, waving off the wand. “A Keeno technique. I sterilized myself, but we don’t know yet where I picked it up. Possibly in these quarters, or maybe down on the planet. I need the substance identified so we can scan for it.”

“If it was airborne the auto-scrubbers would have identified it,” another of them said, sealing up the box and staring at it through the clear lid. “I’m not familiar with this.”

“Nor am I. Find out as soon as possible, and if it’s something new start analyzing and catalog it.”

“Was this an attack on you, Grand Admiral?”

“Most likely,” he said, standing up without a wobble this time. “Quickly,” he urged.

The trio retreated with their equipment without question, going out the closer door in the residential section of his quarters, with Illana locking it after they left.

“Can you heal yourself?” she asked.

“I’m fit enough as is,” he said, still standing there and not moving.

“Why won’t you answer me directly?” she said, picking up on something he was hiding.

“Stuff you’d be better off not knowing right now, so don’t ask. Come over here.”

She walked over to him and he grabbed her by the neck gently.

“Is it in me?” she asked as he closed his eyes while keeping the skin to skin contact.

A moment later he shook his head. “No. At least not yet. We still don’t know the source.”

“Did you eat anything on the planet?”

“Only the stuff we brought with us,” he said, walking over to his clothing and looking to see if anything was out of place. He couldn’t scan it the way he had Illana, but if someone had moved something…

But no, everything was where it was supposed to be, so he began stripping off his robe-like shirt and pants and started to climb into a fresh uniform.

“You’re awfully calm about this,” Illana commented as she watched him change.

“I’ve been poisoned four times before, two on accident, not counting our training.”

“Wait, are you saying you poison yourself in training?”

“We have to in small amounts to learn the purging technique. If we fail our master pulls it out for us before it can do too much damage.”

“And then you heal up?” she pressed.

“What do you think I did yesterday on the planet?”

“Right, but can you do that to yourself?”

“That technique only works on others. Which is one of many reasons why Keeno work in pairs.”

Illana frowned. “So when they exiled you, they took away…”

“Yes,” Aatroxiss said simply, giving her the ‘change the subject’ look as he pulled on his left flex boot. He’d had it specially constructed as part of his uniform, refusing to wear the blocky and stiff Imperial boots that were little more than a fashion statement.

“Fine,” she said, forcing her curiosity in a different direction. “Spy, assassin, poison delivery, and locate any more that might still be here. Did you stop anywhere between here and the hangar bay?”

“No,” he said, latching up his second boot in a quick series of familiar movements, then he stood up and pulled on his Grand Admiral’s jacket. “Thanks for waking me when you did.”

“I could make a habit of it if you like.”

“If I’m going to be regularly poisoned, I might take you up on that. Even give you a cot beside my bed to sleep on.”

She gave him another look, then followed him out of his quarters and walked with him until their paths diverged. Her to the section of the ship that held CYSO’s lair, and him back to the hangar bay to head down to the planet to deal with the riot and whatever else he had on his plate for today.

5

“We don’t know how many made it into the jungle, Admiral,” Hacking said, clearly pissed off. “But we think we’ve got all the ones in the settlement rounded up. The sane ones we’ve kept here, the rest went back to the paddock. And we still don’t know who let them out.”

Aatroxiss rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was still feeling the damage from the poison but didn’t have time to deal with it right now. His body would gradually heal on its own, and if he could just keep moving and his head ungummed enough, it would take care of itself without a meditation session.

“What’s the wildlife situation?”

“It’s a jungle, sir. And it’s not empty.”

“Set up some supply posts near the edge where you think they entered. Have food there for them and try to welcome them back. When they start starving they may come back on their own.”

“You don’t want search parties going in after them?”

“How effective would that be?”

“Unknown. If they’re hanging around near the edges we could luck out, but if they’ve gone deep and just keep running as far from here as they can get…”

“I wouldn’t blame them if they did. Do they at least speak basic?”

“They seem to. They’re just naïve, malnourished, and living in constant fear of being taken away and never coming back. That happens a lot, apparently.”

“Do they ever come back?”

“Rarely, but they said it has happened. Did you understand those files?”

“I haven’t had a chance to look at them. We’ve got a security situation onboard the Redemption that has kept me occupied. I’m guessing the returned ones had genetic alterations and had to be reintroduced to the population for breeding purposes.”

“What sort of situation?”

“The kind I’ll let you know about when you need to. Until then I said nothing, clear?”

“Crystal, sir,” he said as they arrived at the gates to the Vixot paddock. They were made up of vertical bars for the most part, and through them an angry crowd was gathered and chanting something unintelligible.

“You said the doors were simply open?”

“Yes, Admiral. A lot of the Vixot didn’t come out. I guess they were too scared, but they really don’t like the doors shutting again. And the ones we stunned and put back in, well, they’re not very friendly either. And with the sane ones no longer here, things are getting worse. They were the leaders.”

“None are left?”

“Not that we know of, but there could be some. There’s no organization that we can make out. They just dumped everyone in here and let them roam free, pulling them out when they needed and making food drops by air. I don’t think these doors have ever been opened before.”

Aatroxiss stepped out of the speeder and walked closer as a hail of small rocks, dirt clods, and spit headed his way. Those that were about to hit stuck in the air before him for a moment and fell to the ground as he reached out with his non-Kalla skills and began to alter the energy in the air.

The chanting stopped immediately, with him finding that the group had very weak minds in a pack mentality. Thus they were easy to influence.

When he finally stepped up to the bars, everyone was calm, silent, and looking at him with wide eyes.

“Do you have a leader?” he asked simply.

“Goru,” someone said, then others started to repeat it in a chant until one brown-skinned Vixot made his way through the crowd, with them parting in a gesture of respect that told Aatroxiss that he was a leader. He just didn’t know how intelligent he was given the dumb look on his face, his mess of unkept hair, and dirt-covered bare feet. In fact, none of them were wearing shoes, though their clothing appeared fairly new, though still dirty.

“I am Goru,” the man said, his voice a sharp contrast to his demeanor. It was sharp, precise, and burdened with a heavy dose of sadness. Aatroxiss began to wash away the latter with a wave of uplifting energy, and the man’s eyes seemed to widen slightly, his posture straightening up, and his chest sticking out like he was on the parade grounds during Empire Day. “Who are you?”

“I am Grand Admiral Aatroxiss, and I am here to rescue you. But I did not let you out of this paddock. Someone did without authorization, and now some of your people are out in the jungle where they might get killed before I can save them. I’m the one that brought the new food here, and I’m the one that will be taking you home eventually. My apologies for the rough treatment of my men rounding you up, but it was for your protection. I’m told the wildlife in the jungle is dangerous.”

“How long before we can go home?” Goru asked stiffly.

“Where are you from?”

“Naugh. Most of us are. The rest were born here later and grew up too fast. I don’t know how.”

“The now dead Admiral Gorgo was using you as test subjects amongst other things. How much do you know of this?”

“Nothing. All I’ve ever seen is this place and the aircraft taking people out. What happened to them?”

“Horrible things,” Aatroxiss said firmly. “Things it’s better you didn’t know. Those that were taken are most likely all dead. I can’t help them now, but I can and will help you, but I also need your help. There are other paddocks here with different alien races. They were being used and murdered like your people were. I’ve got a large mess here to clean up, and it’s going to take time. Is there any way you know of to convince those in the jungle to come back? Would they listen to you if we broadcast your voice?”

“I told them not to go, but they didn’t listen. They wanted to be free of this place. I doubt they’d return for any reason.”

“Do you know who opened the gate?”

“Yes.”

Aatroxiss raised an eyebrow at Colonel Hacking, who’d walked up silently to his right, but without his rifle. “Who was it?”

“They are here, with us. Over there beyond the lake,” he said, pointing behind and to Aatroxiss’s right. “They were not letting us out. They were letting themselves in. They shot several of us and stole their clothes, leaving theirs behind. They changed into them, then opened the doors. When people rushed out, they went the other way.”

“What’s wrong with your eye?” he said, referencing the patch the old man wore over it.

“Infection. The moss helps.”

Aatroxiss stepped closer to the bars and reached a hand through. “I can help with that, if you’ll let me.”

“You have medicine? They’ve never given us any.”

“I can do better than medicine, Mr. Goru. If you’ll allow me?”

The man blinked his visible eye twice, then hesitantly came closer to the bars. When he got within reach Aatroxiss pulled the patch off, finding a mess of inflamed tissue and puss.

“Hold still,” he said, putting his fingers next to his eye but not directly on it. Within seconds the puss disappeared and the inflammation decreased by half, then he let go. “How’s that?”

The man blinked his encrusted eye, but it wouldn’t open fully. He swiped at it to clear the glue-like crud away, finding it didn’t hurt anymore. Once he did he was able to fully blink, turning around and looking in all directions before turning back to the Grand Admiral.

“What did you do? The pain is gone. I can see again!”

“It’s called helping, Mr. Goru. Now, how many of these individuals are there that came in and swapped clothing?”

“Four. Two green, an orange, and a mottle purple,” he said, referencing the Vixot skin colors, with mottle purple being quite rare and would stand out easily.

“Would you be able to recognize them?”

“They’re the ones who aren’t thin like the rest of us.”

Aatroxiss nodded. “Colonel, run them down. I want to have a chat with them. But get those feeding stations going first.”

“On it, sir,” he said, stepping away so he could have a private comm conversation back at the speeder. Even with his exterior speaker off, you could still hear someone speaking inside their helmet at close range.

“Now,” Aatroxiss continued. “The others said they were taken from their homes during arrests. Was it the same for you?”

“Yes. I was deemed a criminal for questioning Captain Montose’s new laws.”

“He was running the planet and not a Governor?”

“He killed the Governor a long time ago. He’s been in charge ever since. He took my wife two years before me, but she wasn’t here. I looked everywhere, but…she either wasn’t sent here or…”

“The others from Naugh have similar stories, I’m told, but you’re the first I’ve spoken with. I take it that if I took you back to Naugh that Captain Montose wouldn’t welcome you back?”

“If I ever see the man I’ll kill him,” Goru said angrily.

“No need, Mr. Goru. I’ve heard his name spoken before, and he has a lot to answer to me for. He will not be running Naugh when I get finished with him. How do you think the people of Naugh would treat the rest of these Vixot if I sent them back with you?”

He hesitated for a moment. “I don’t want anyone left behind, Admiral. But all they’ve ever known is this place. They wouldn’t fit in very well. They wouldn’t know what to do.”

“So I’ve been told. What sort of law changes was Montose implementing?”

“He forbade loyalty to the Emperor or High Admiral Laro. He said Naugh was now independent and that we all owed him our undivided allegiance. Anything to the contrary was made illegal, and the Emperor’s most fervent supporters ended up here. I kept my mouth shut until my wife was taken…and I didn’t have the guts to try and stop it. Later I tried to do something to…defy him…but I went too far and got taken here. Others, though, abandoned the Emperor and now serve Montose. You can’t live there unless you do. But I’d still go back if I could get out of this place. We all would. Those of us who came from there. Those born here don’t understand. The medicine you put on me. Do you have more?”

“Not much at the moment, but I have ships in orbit to take you all off planet eventually. Those that are sickest need to be brought to the gate. We’ll take them first.”

“Some don’t want to leave. They’re scared. As I said, they’ve never been anywhere else.”

“They don’t have to leave. As repulsive as this place is, I’ve decided to keep the planet. We’ll gut the laboratories and repurpose the structures. That will take time, so they’ll need to stay here until then. But I can get some modules landed inside the fence for you to live in. Can you convince the others that my people are not the enemy. I don’t want a fight starting.”

“Your men already shot some of them. They’re not going to forget that.”

“Remind them that they’re not dead.”

“You also took the others away.”

“For questioning, and they don’t want to return here, so we’re keeping them elsewhere.”

“I can understand how they feel, but these,” he said, gesturing to the crowd, “just see them gone like the others. Me talking to them isn’t going to be enough.”

Aatroxiss sighed. “I see. Do you wish to remain here or join the others?”

“You fixed my eye, so if it’ll help you, I’ll stay here and try to keep them out of trouble.”

“Deal,” he said as a shuttle flew low behind them and crossed the fence line just to the left of the gate then headed out towards the lake…causing everyone nearby to flee for cover, thinking that it was coming for them. Only Goru remained standing where he was as the rest fled into the nearby trees and bushes.

“Are some of these your children?” Aatroxiss asked.

Goru nodded. “When the women didn’t want to get pregnant, they’d be taken and returned pregnant. After a while it was decided it was better for us to do it than our captors. I’ve got great grandchildren now, too many to count. Same goes for the others from Naugh that are still alive. We tried to teach them some things…but it just…they kept getting taken so nobody wanted to get too close to anyone else.”

“No more,” Aatroxiss promised. “Try to keep everyone alive as long as you can. I’ll get a prefab med station dropped inside the paddock to help the sick and wounded. Make them understand that it’s help coming. I don’t want my medics attacked. And they will have armed troopers guarding them.”

“I’ll try to make them understand.”

“Good. Hang on a little longer and this nightmare will be over,” Aatroxiss said, turning around and taking a step before Goru spoke again.

“Is the Emperor still alive?”

“Yes,” Aatroxiss said, turning back over his shoulder. “Were you told otherwise?”

“Montose claimed he’d been killed by aliens and the Empire had fractured. That every planet was on its own now.”

“He lied. The Empire and the Emperor is still intact. He put me in command of the entire Frontier in order to clean up messes like this. But this planet was not listed on Imperial maps. Admiral Gorgo was hiding this facility from the Emperor.”

“How did you find us then?”

“Admiral Gorgo died, and now I’m tracking down all his assets. That led me to this place.”

“Is Montose still alive?”

“As far as I know.”

“Was his arresting us legal?”

“Military officers do not make arrests of civilians. That’s for the Planetary Governor to handle. So no, his arrests were not legal. Nor is most of what was happening here.”

“So he’s the criminal, not us?” Goru asked, feeling like he needed clarification on that.

“He’s the criminal, you are the victims,” Aatroxiss said, sensing how much mental damage had been done to this man despite his ability to hold himself together all this time. And that sort of damage was something he couldn’t use the Kalla to heal…or the medics, for that matter. “As I said, I’m here to save you. Stay put, and keep an eye out for any more Vixot trying to pretend they’re one of you.”

“I’ll keep two out now, Admiral. Thank you.”

Aatroxiss nodded, then returned to the speeder with Colonel Hacking and the pair of troopers with them.

“How did you calm them down?” he asked as they sat down and the driver accelerated them off along the dirt road through the jungle.

“A little trick I learned a long time ago. And that’s something else you didn’t see.”

“Yes, Admiral. But it’s still damn impressive. Do you want me to arrange for that med pod drop?”

“No, I’ll do it. Right now take me to the prisoners. I want to talk to these augments.”

“They still think they were following orders and did nothing wrong. Their commanders told them we were the rebellion striking at this facility impersonating Imperial troopers. They’re refusing to accept otherwise.”

“They were former troopers?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Hacking said with a growl. “Now they’re part alien and compromised. Even if I could overlook them killing my men, they’re contaminated and troopers no longer.”

“I’ll decide that, Colonel. With all the losses going on in this system, I won’t tolerate wasting a single individual that could be otherwise salvaged. Especially troopers.”

“These are a nasty lot, sir. Not a bit of that…conscience…you talk about. I don’t think they’re redeemable even if you could get the alien parts out of them.”

“Analyze it from a purely combat perspective. Weaknesses and advantages?”

Hacking ran his fingers through his short hair as the wind blew into their faces as they raced down the road. He preferred his helmet off around the Admiral when they were speaking. “They’re tough, I’ll give them that. But they didn’t work together as a unit. It was all individual actions, like they’d been trained as assassins. Once we figured that out it made it easier to take them down, but they still did their damage. And don’t assume traditional cuffs will hold them. They’re insanely strong with those extra muscle grafts. They could kill you with…well, not you Admiral…but they could kill me with their bare hands if I didn’t have a rifle to say otherwise with,” he said, already having swapped stories with Redemption troopers about what had happened at Harshoo.

“I’m guessing that Gorgo wasn’t recruiting them from this population.”

“No way. These were troopers gone bad, sir. He had to be getting them from elsewhere.”

“How are you feeding them?”

“In containment with a dozen troopers aiming rifles at them the entire time. I’m not taking any chances with these nubots. They’re dangerous, sir, and I can’t understate that. More dangerous than Imperial Commandos, and those guys scare the drek out of me as is.”

“One question that seems to be rising to relevance is whether these augments were meant to serve Gorgo or to be for someone else.”

“I thought Gorgo was going rogue?”

“Montose and Naugh were not part of Gorgo’s little empire. And this planet was not set up as an isolationist outpost. It’s a commerce center, meaning Gorgo had links to a lot of other players, Vixot and alien alike. So I wonder if these augments might have been meant for a buyer, or someone Gorgo had bribed into letting him run wild.”

“The High Admirals?”

“Possible. I have more questions than answers right now and there is a lot of information to go through here. We won’t be leaving the system anytime soon.”

“Kind of figured that, sir, what with that supply convoy and all. How stable are things back on Harshoo?”

“Improving when I left. But I have no way of knowing now, and I made it clear no couriers were to come out this far. I won’t get updates until I send one back.”

“I don’t understand how the High Admirals could let the ImpCom system go down out here to this alien filth.”

“There’s a lot out here that doesn’t make sense. And places like this thrive when communications are limited. It’s too easy to hide entire planets out here. And I think Gorgo and others figured that out a long time ago.”

“Traitors all of them,” Hacking said as they came to a bend in the road that made the driver slow down, then they accelerated again following a riverbank that was gushing from the recent rain. Fortunately the speeder was anti-grav, otherwise they would have been a muddy mess on this soft ground.

“Colonel, I’m going to be needing more out of you in this operation and going forward than just commanding the Redemption’s army detachment. Can you handle larger operations, or is that out of your skillset?”

“Whatever you need, sir.”

“What I need is a competent General, and you haven’t disappointed me lately, so consider yourself promoted.”

“Thank you, Admiral!” he said, perking up considerably…then his elation came back down as a realization hit him. “Does this mean I’ll be assigned to this planet permanently?”

“No.”

“Good,” Hacking said, relieved. “I’m all for the mission assigned to me, Admiral, but guard duty on a futurely quiet world is not what I signed up for.”

Aatroxiss smiled. “I tend to go where the trouble is, General. And you’ll be going with me. Does that satisfy your need for action?”

“Probably more than is healthy, Admiral, but I prefer it that way,” he said, spotting the edge of a building ahead that was set in the jungle well away from the settlement towers visible in the distance. “That’s where we’re keeping them. Some sort of warehouse that was already empty. Looked to have been just constructed and needing a few bits and pieces installed, but I have no idea what it was for.”

The speeder slowed on approach, then drifted sideways into a full stop on a pancrete landing platform for aerial deliveries. Aatroxiss got out and began walking with Hacking in tow towards a small set of doors with armed guards on the outside.

“As I said, sir, they’re dangerous, and the last thing I want is someone breaking them out like they did the Vixot.”

“Your caution is wise, General. Let’s just hope there’s enough trooper left in them for me to save…”

6

Aatroxiss walked into the warehouse, seeing portable shield generators set up three deep around a large communal area with a series of cots and benches and nothing else except a portable refresher that was little more than a one-man box in the center. Yellow-armored troopers surrounded the redundant shield generators, which the Grand Admiral noted were tied into several backup generators.

General Hacking truly wasn’t taking any chances here, making him wonder just how problematic these augments were.

He walked up near the shield wall, seeing the Vixot inside stand up reflexively, then some sat back down, not sure what to make of him, though the rank insignia that he wore on the collar clearly indicated that he was at least a High Admiral, despite him not wearing a yellow uniform.

“Rebel scum,” one of them spat from a seated position.

“I can assure you I am no rebel,” Aatroxiss said simply. “I was personally commissioned by the Emperor and given command of the Frontier. I am Grand Admiral Aatroxiss, and I’m afraid you were fighting against the Empire, not for it.”

“Lies,” another said, though he seemed to say it for his own convincing.

“On the contrary,” Aatroxiss said, altering the energy in the air as he spoke. “This facility was under the command of Admiral Gorgo, was it not?”

“It is,” one of the standing ones said, refusing to accept their defeat.

“Admiral Gorgo is dead, executed by ICAP for refusing to submit to the Emperor’s order of my appointment. This planet is not listed in the Imperial database. Gorgo established it without authorization and was hiding it from the Empire. Apparently he also made some alterations to you as well without authority.”

“More lies,” the most defiant one said, glancing around to see if the others would back him. When it was clear they wouldn’t, he took a step back and just glared at the Grand Admiral.

“The only reason you are alive is because my troops know that I prefer taking prisoners. Otherwise they would have killed you all. Try to be a little more respectful.”

“We had orders,” another one said firmly. “Would you have us disobey them?”

“Ideally yes, but then Gorgo would have just killed you for insubordination. Subsequently, I have banned all executions in the Frontier. So no one will be facing that situation again within the Empire…though I can’t make any promises that the aliens and rogue factions out here will obey that Standing Order. Admiral Gorgo was such a rogue. He is gone, but his little rebellious empire has to be brought to heel, and you are part of it.”

“We’re not rebels,” another hothead said. It seemed they were all hyped up on emotions, and even with his influence they were not calming down as much as needed.

“Then you will accept my authority as all Imperial troops in the Frontier will per the Emperor’s order.”

“We’ve seen no such order.”

“Because Gorgo didn’t want you to,” Aatroxiss said, fishing something out of his pocket. He held out the small holodisk in front of the shield wall and it produced a flat vertical image for the troopers to see.

Several of them walked closer to read and Aatroxiss patiently waited. Several of them swore, others sat down on the floor with their head in their hands, realizing they’d been going against the chain of command without realizing it. The rest still remained somewhat defiant.

When they’d seen enough he deactivated the disk and put it back in his pocket.

“Trooper,” he said, looking at one in particular. “Take off your shirt.”

He’d chosen a resigned one to speak to, and the order stuck. The red-skinned man pulled off his shirt and Aatroxiss could see the enlarged muscles covering him. His skin was still Vixot, but there were bulges in places there should not be.

“Explain what alterations they made to you.”

“Upgrades,” the trooper said with a shrug. “Experimental biotech. I don’t understand it, but it works.”

“Works how?”

“I’m stronger and faster.”

“And bigger,” Aatroxiss noted. “Do the upgrades hurt?”

“Not now, but they did for a long time.”

“How long have you had them?”

“3 years.”

Aatroxiss frowned. “How many of you were upgraded?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Thousands at least.”

Aatroxiss glanced at Hacking and got a similar disturbed expression in return.

“I was told there were a few hundred of you defending this facility alongside the regular troops.”

“We’re not all here, Admiral. Others got reassigned.”

“Do you know where?”

He shrugged. “We don’t question orders. They went off planet, I don’t know where.”

“I see. How has your mind been altered by the upgrades?”

“Headaches are still there. And we fought a lot until we were ordered not to.”

“Are you angry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“At what?”

“Anything that moves,” another one said, stepping up to the shield wall two bumos away from the Grand Admiral. “They were giving us meds to fix it, but we haven’t had any since we were put in here. Can you get us some?”

“Possibly. Were your skulls cut open?”

“No, sir,” the first one said. “Everything was below the neck.”

“Chemical imbalance most likely,” he said, not ruling out genetic alterations or brain washing. “Do you accept the authority given to me by the Emperor?”

“Yes, sir,” several of them said, but not all.

“What about the rest of you?”

Half of them agreed, but the rest remained silent.

“Very well, then. Which of you would like a chance to punch me in the face?”

“I would,” someone said from the benches.

“And why would you want to?”

“Your troops killed my best friend.”

“A good reason,” Aatroxiss admitted. “But be aware, there would have been no fighting if this facility had complied with orders when Admiral Corva arrived. I hope you can understand how the Empire can’t tolerate rogue operations such as this.”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s dead and your troopers killed him along with a lot of the others.”

“I guess you’re not so superior after all,” Aatroxiss said, intentionally trying to aggravate him, and he got the expected response. The augment pushed his way through the crowd and punched the shield wall directly in front of the Grand Admiral.

“If you were in here I’d tear you limb from limb you frenning hadrak.”

“Accepted, trooper,” Aatroxiss said, turning around to look directly at Hacking who was shaking his head slightly. “Open the shield enough to let me in.”

“Are you sure, Admiral?” he said, not liking this one bit.

“I am,” Aatroxiss said, waiting with his hands crossed behind his back.

“This corner,” Hacking said, walking around to the right side of the containment area. “All of you, back away or I’ll use the stunner,” he said, referencing weaponry tied to the ceiling that could stun everyone inside simultaneously if he dropped the roof shield.

The augments slowly walked away, with a few holdouts remaining until the last moment, then were tugged aside by their compatriots, two of which exchanged blows briefly before relenting.

“Sir, can you handle all of them?” Hacking whispered.

“No,” he admitted even more quietly. “If you see me hit the deck, stun everyone.”

“Yes, sir,” Hacking groaned, holding the remote for the shield and the stunners in his left hand at the ready. He pressed a button and a circular opening in the shield formed, slightly shorter than Aatroxiss, and the Grand Admiral had to bend down to step through. It resealed behind him and he walked towards the middle of the room but kept clear of the benches and stayed in an open area.

“Alright trooper,” he said, looking at the angry one that was being held back by the others. “You have my permission to try and punch me. Let him go.”

The others reluctantly released the dark blue-skinned man, who in a flash leapt towards him faster than a Vixot should have been able to move, and within 5 steps was punching into Aatroxiss’s face…or rather where his face had been. He sidestepped at the last moment using his Kalla-enhanced muscles to generate similar speed, and smacked the man in the back of the head as he passed by.

Off balance and moving fast, he stumbled all the way into the shield wall and bounced off it, but not before getting a bloody nose from the impact, for a shield such as this was not designed to soften impacts. It was the equivalent of a pancrete wall that was perfectly smooth, and against that a nose had little options other than to be flattened.

“Try again,” Aatroxiss taunted, turning his back on the others but using his Kalla to keep an eye on their positions. They felt like silhouettes in his mind’s eye, but that was enough to prevent them from jumping him as the bleeding one walked back towards him, fists pounding on his own legs in anticipation. Apparently he was smart enough to not try sprinting at him again.

When he got close enough he swung at Aatroxiss’s head using a very thick arm that appeared to be no longer than normal. Even the augment’s height seemed not to have changed, so there was probably no alteration to the bone structure. Just crude muscle grafts.

Aatroxiss let this one hit, but not on his head. He pulled his left arm up to block, then used his right to deflect the others man’s second punch, taking a step back each time he did. Three, four, five attacks came flying in, but he absorbed them each time and kept the blue fists away from his face and torso.

The augment was fast alright. Almost as fast as a Keeno, but after spending so many years sparring with his mother this still felt a little slow, though the arms were so heavy they were difficult to redirect, so he had to do more maneuvering around them than moving them around.

After a dozen deflections the man stopped, his face billowing over with anger, then he just charged forward, arms wide, trying to tackle Aatroxiss…who stepped forward with an outreached palm into his wide open torso and hit him with a concussion blast.

The heavy trooper went the opposite way in a flash, all the way back to the shield wall where he hit butt first with a loud ‘thunk,’ then dropped to the ground in a pile, cradling his head in his hand. Aatroxiss guessed he probably had a concussion, which meant these augments were offensive only, and their bodies were just as vulnerable as regular troopers outside their armor.

“Enough,” Aatroxiss said, holding up a hand to everyone. “The past is the past. Bad things happened and we can’t undo them by fighting each other. I’m here to work the present into a beneficial future. You can either be a part of this, or remain captives. You can keep your upgrades, or they can be removed…your choice. But your emotional state is going to have to be remedied before you’re fit for duty. And while this is not going to help any,” he said as his attacker slowly stood up, “are you aware of the source of your augmentation?”

“Imperial biotech,” someone said from behind him.

“That is another lie from Admiral Gorgo. You’ve had alien tissue grafted onto your bodies. That’s where your extra strength and speed are coming from. Races that are stronger than Vixot. Gorgo had them sliced up for parts, then put those parts into you.”

Even his attacker, who was clearly not satisfied yet, stopped and looked around at the others, sharing the same disbelieving look. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re lying.”

“Unfortunately I’m not. People are not to be used for parts, whether they’re Vixot or aliens. But there’s no way to return the parts you have to people who are dead, so I won’t make you remove them. But if you can’t stand the thought of alien tissue inside of you, it’s an option.”

“And if we want to keep them?” another trooper challenged, though his tone suggested he was thoroughly disgusted with himself right now at the thought of being contaminated with inferior alien parts, for all Vixot were taught that they were the height of perfection when compared to other races.

“Then I will find a way for you to eventually return to duty with them. It won’t be soon, but I won’t discard you. However, if removing them clears up your mental state, that would be the faster path.”

“We’d be laid up from surgery for dekkas again,” the first red-skinned one he had talked to argued. “None of us want that, Admiral.”

“Then you can keep them if you make me a promise,” he said, turning his back on his attacker and facing the rest of them. “You promise me you will use these abilities to stop people like Gorgo from doing anything like this again. Body parts are not to be stolen and given to others. You help me protect other aliens with the alien parts you have, and you can regain your honor.”

“We swore an oath to protect the Empire, not aliens,” the nose bleeder said, holding a fist to it to try and stop the leaking.

“If we are to annex alien worlds into the Empire, they become our responsibility. Also, a truly dominant Empire protects everyone. Lesser empires only look out for themselves. Which do you think the Emperor wants his to become?”

“If Vixot are superior,” another augment said, “you’re saying it’s our job to protect the inferior?”

“Quite right, trooper. And the aliens that Gorgo carved up and put pieces of into you couldn’t defend themselves.”

“Did you have the surgery?” his attacker asked.

Aatroxiss smiled. “No. The Emperor decided the Frontier was too dangerous and unruly for a regular Imperial officer to conquer. So he decided to recruit someone from the outside. He made me a Grand Admiral because I’m superior to you. Congratulations, trooper. You’ve just fought your first Keeno and lived to tell it.”

Everyone in the room shifted. Either backtracking in fear, or stammering around unsure of what to do. They were trapped in here and couldn’t run, and at the same time this man had the Emperor’s blessing and was, in fact, superior to them in the chain of command.

“Relax,” he finally said to them. “Everyone is taking some time getting used to it. The High Command would never accept you as anything but tainted. They would boot you out of the Imperial army at the minimum, or more likely just execute you. But I will not. I don’t need your power. Mine is superior. But you deserve a chance at redemption and I am offering it. If you wish to leave the army, we can remove the augments and you can do so with a full pension. What happened to you was never supposed to happen and I will not fault you for it. But if you want to become troopers again, with or without your augments, it will take time and training to get you fit for duty. The choice is yours.”

His calming aura was having some effect, but not on the one he’d fought. With his back turned, the augment suddenly rushed him, seeing an opportunity, but Aatroxiss knew it was coming and turned around, pointing his hand at the sprinting man…and simply lifted him up into the air where he could do not harm.

His Kalla reserve drained a little more, and while he didn’t have a lot left, he was well away from the danger zone. Though if he really had to fight, like he had on Harshoo, he wouldn’t have much to work with.

“You are getting your augments removed, but I will not charge you with any crimes,” he said to the flailing man whose anger was clearly etched on his face. “Furthermore you will be discharged from the Imperial army and sent back to the Districts. I blame Gorgo for your actions here, but you clearly do not have the mental willpower to conquer the augments given to you. They are disrupting you and turning you into a threat. I cannot allow that to continue. General,” he said, flying the man over to the shield wall where he had entered.

“Troopers!” Hacking said, rushing over along with half of them, weapons trained on the spot he was about to open. “Stun charges only.”

With the press of a button the hole in the shield opened and Aatroxiss flew the man outside…where he was hit with more than a dozen shots and went limp. The Grand Admiral set him down on the floor as Hacking fired two more bursts into him, then looked apologetically at the Admiral.

“They’re somewhat resistant to stun.”

“See that he gets to the medical ship and is sedated at all times.”

Hacking gestured to some of his men and two of them came forward and picked up the heavy trooper and carried him out of the building as Aatroxiss turned back to face the others.

“If you can’t control your anger here and now, there is no way I can trust you to control it during battle. A superior Empire fights to win, not to destroy, and calm minds are required to know when to hold back and capture an enemy rather than tear them into bits and pieces.”

“Are you really a Keeno?”

“I am. But I am no longer part of the Keeno Order. The Emperor has canceled the termination order against them, and has given me the Frontier to remake as I see fit in order to counter future threats. I am in a unique position, as are you. Take some time and think about what you want to do. You can keep your augments if you can learn proper control, or they can be removed and you can return to being regular troopers or leave the army with a full pension. Those are your three options.”

Aatroxiss walked over to the hole in the shield wall and left, with Hacking immediately closing it up again as the augments started to mumble amongst themselves.

“On to the next problem,” the Grand Admiral said to Hacking as he walked past him.

“Yes, sir,” he agreed, following him out and back to the speeder.

7

Illana hadn’t brought her CYSO staff into this investigation, for she didn’t know if any of them were involved in it. Someone had smuggled equipment onto the Redemption, or had hidden it from her over the past 2 years. And the equipment that she’d personally pulled out of her wall via the empty set of quarters on the other side had answered one lingering question…that being how her clothes got bugged.

There were tiny bots that had been able to crawl through drill holes and get into her personal clothing storage compartments. They’d placed the bugs then retreated back into the main unit that had a low grade bot brain to run the planting mechanisms. Fortunately this hadn’t been going on for very long, and from the bot ‘brain’ that she’d been able to extract after disabling the detonation charge on it, Illana was beginning to think both this and the assassination attempt on Aatroxiss were tied to the planet below.

That had led her to sift through security camera footage from across the ship, trying to backtrack when this set of quarters had been visited. Oddly, there were several blanks in the recordings where ‘glitches’ had occurred. Assuming those were the infiltration points, she began checking adjacent cameras and eventually had a number of suspects.

She followed those through the corridors on replays, getting a baseline for who was moving where and why. Thanks to the high scrutiny of the crew by ICAP, there were cameras everywhere and Aatroxiss had not wanted them removed except in select areas, such as personal quarters. That had probably emboldened this scum bag to use the empty quarters as an infiltration point, but he hadn’t been super clean about his movements.

Still, this was a high end professional at work, and there was no way he was operating alone. Her staff had been put on surveillance duty of the cargo bay after she noted there was a possibility of contraband coming back up from the planet and they’d been monitoring recordings and live feeds ever since. One of her recruits came across a mysterious box that had come up with the second shuttle to return to the ship after delivering supplies to the planet. The pilot had stepped out of the shuttle to use the refresher, but was carrying the small satchel with him. When he returned, the box was not in his possession. Also, shuttles had small refreshers in them, which made the sudden trip to a larger ship-based one even more odd.

That had been the first major crack in this spy ring, and from there they had been finding several links in the chain…all people who had been transferred to the Redemption from other ships in the Fleet. But the equipment to bug her clothing had been traced back to that case, meaning it had come from the planet.

That sent her personally scouring through signal logs and eventually found an errant transmission coming from the Redemption, but not from any of the main comm arrays. It had been low power and from an unknown source, disguised as background radiation, but CYSO had been collecting records of all signals from all sources since its inception…and that initial policy had paid off.

Right now Illana was walking through the ship’s #4 cafeteria, drawing looks from the sea of males as usual, but there was one in particular she wanted to find. He’d been sitting at the end of table 6 when she’d checked the camera feeds a moment ago and was still there as she approached the table, not making eye contact with him.

“Crewman Deter,” she said in a stiff voice. “Stand up please.”

The wide-eyed engineering tech did as ordered and backed away from the stool welded to the table. As he did so, passing in front of her, Illana drew her sidearm and fired the moment his body moved out of her firing line.

The stun blast hit the man behind him before he had a chance to run or fight. Illana put two more into him as he slumped into his tray, sending everyone around either into frightened stillness or backing away from the altercation as quickly as possible.

She walked over and grabbed the gray-skinned young man and pulled his face out of his plate by grabbing his hair and yanking hard. When she confirmed he was out cold, she pulled out her comlink and chirped it three times, with a pair of green armored troopers rushing into the large chamber and retrieving the prisoner. As he was hauled out, feet dragging on the floor enroute to the prison level, she addressed everyone else with a fire in her eyes.

“I’ve discovered a network of spies onboard this ship,” she announced. “This man is one of them. There are others, and one is responsible for an assassination attempt on the Grand Admiral that failed. If you see any suspicious behavior, report it to CYSO immediately.”

With that she marched out, knowing her staff was watching the live feeds here and around the ship. This dramatic seizure was intended to provoke a response that would help flush out the other co-conspirators, and before she was halfway back to her lair her comlink chirped.

“Chief here,” she said, using her earpiece to listen instead of holding the small cylinder up near her face. She kept it in her pocket and her earpiece acted as a more private relay.

“Subject #7 just left his station. He practically jumped out of his chair, but is now walking casually towards the hangar bay, and he has no duties near that area.

“Order security to pick him up once he enters the bay. I don’t want him getting down to the planet.”

“Subject 5 has disappeared,” a different voice said in her ear. “He was doing maintenance work between decks, but now he’s off camera.”

“Dispatch crawlbots to that area but do not send troopers.”

“Got another one. Subject 18 is headed to…wait, he’s trying to get in an escape pod.”

“Let him go but track it. Inform the Captain that I want it monitored but not intercepted. If another ship out there is involved we need to know.”

“Relaying now, Chief.”

Illana kept walking, but no more reports came in. Still, three jumpers was better than she had hoped for, and she had a prisoner to interrogate after she checked a few other things. The source of the poison that had got into Aatroxiss was still unknown…officially. She’d crawled through a lot of the ship’s interior to find the plumbing that went to his quarters, and when she’d located an anomalous device she’d decided to leave it in place. Medical had confirmed that the poison had been detected in trace amounts in the water reclamation system on four different decks, and the scan matched it to her internal files, identified as Henduik-709. A very rare poison meant not to kill instantly, but to render one unable to think and to mimic insanity.

That would often get you killed in a war zone, but in this case it would have made Aatroxiss appear crazy or dumb, both of which would have begun to discredit him. Over a long enough time it would have finally killed him via a brain aneurysm, but that would have taken dekkas.

She didn’t know how much was left in the device, and was going to speak to Aatroxiss about his showering schedule when he got back, and if he could play along and keep absorbing it and purging it so not to alert the assassin that they’d located the source. Illana had just placed a few tracking devices in the crawlspaces that led to that section of pipe, so if the assassin had to come back and reload it with more toxin she’d nail him. She’d announced the assassin in order to cover for the fact that she’d found her clothing bugs, as well as to maybe provoke the person into trying to remove the toxin delivery system. It had no detonation charge on it, so she suspected it was going to be retrieved later.

That also suggested the person who had planted both devices was not using the same tactics, and was probably not the same person. One wanted to explosively cover their tracks, while the other seemed assured that their crawlspace exploits couldn’t or wouldn’t be noticed.

Right now things were moving quite fast, but she’d been moving at lightspeed ever since waking Aatroxiss up and she wasn’t about to stop until she got every drekking spy off this ship. And it was the really good ones that wouldn’t react to this incident in the cafeteria that she was worried about. Three of them bolting like this suggested amateurs or people who thought their cover was already blown. She’d find out soon enough which the first individual was, but right now she needed to monitor the rabbits and the crawlbots, the latter of which pinged movement in an entirely different part of the ship.

She’d sent nearly every one in storage on the ship to various areas with the insect-sized devices moving about then laying in wait monitoring legit crew movements and hopefully those not-so-legit ones. The bots answered to her alone, and right now one of them was reporting not a person, but a piece of equipment that was out of place near the reactor core.

“Drek,” she said, sprinting through the corridors. Maybe the rabbits were running because they knew the ship was going to be targeted next. Or maybe they were going to blow up something vital to cover their escape.

“Chief here,” she said as she weaved her way through passing crewmembers as she triggered her comlink. “There’s an anomalous device near reactor core 4. Sending transmission now. Get someone on the engineering staff to identify it.”

“One moment,” a voice said as she ducked into a lift shaft, pulling out the person who had stepped in before her and shoving the man back out.

“Emergency,” she said, hitting the door close button as fast as possible, then she sent the lift off towards the engineering section of the ship near the middle of the ‘T’s central column. Illana tapped on the wall, willing the lift to move faster, and when the doors finally did open she plowed her way through two more waiting crewers, then sprinted down the corridor.

“Chief, it’s a magnetic conduit. Engineering says they’re getting anomalous readings on one of the plasma conduits. That device is probably eroding the magnetic bottle around the conduit. If it does, the plasma will eat its way through the wall in a matter of ahsho. The Tech Chief is sending people to detach it now in hazard armor.”

“It’s a known…tool then?” she asked, still running and now panting rather hard.

“It is. No sign of alteration. It’s unlikely to have a scuttling charge.”

“What about a remote activator?”

“The image you sent has it tied into a small umbilical line to supply it power. I think someone just turned it on that way, and one of the engineering staff has gone missing.”

“We didn’t have a subject in engineering.”

“None the less, one is gone and we’re trying to locate…make that have located her. Tech Jonnein Veirdri,” the CYSO staffer’s voice said, indicating one of only 8 females on the ship, and one so ugly nobody paid any attention to her.

“Have security pick her up. If that conduit breaches, what does it do…to the reactor?”

“Nothing good. Engineering is powering the entire reactor down just to be safe. That line won’t have plasma in it for much longer.”

“Would it have blown up the ship?” she asked, finally coming to the wide doors into the engineering section that could be closed in a matter of moments to isolate it behind blast-level armor plating…and walking quickly through those doors was Jonnein Veirdri.

As soon as she saw Illana she sprinted forward, and the CYSO chief didn’t have enough time to fully draw her pistol before she was tackled by the larger woman. A fist to her face after her head hit the floor left her disoriented, but she managed to pull the trigger twice, with both shots going into the nearby wall. The second punch to her face left her discombobulated, and Illana was out of it until she found herself being helped up into a sitting position by several crew in the standard blue with yellow trim engineering tech uniforms.

Her head was ringing and her pistol out of her hand. She looked around for it. “Where is she?”

“Ran off,” somebody said. “Are you ok, Chief?”

“She’s a saboteur,” Illana said, climbing to her feet and needing a little help to do it. “Did she take my weapon?”

“I don’t know,” the closest of them said, then somebody further behind yelled ‘Yes.’

“Drek,” she slurred, for her jaw wasn’t working right. She reached up to rub it when she realized her earpiece was missing. “Frelling drek,” she said forcefully enough to make her jaw scream in pain. She reached into her pocket and found her comlink was gone too.

“Frekking nubot!” she said, kicking the wall in frustration as the crew wisely stepped back to give her space as a pair of unarmored troopers ran up to the situation, both carrying sidearms.

“Chief?” they asked.

“She got away. I need a comlink, she took mine and my pistol.”

“Captain has put the ship on lockdown. Nobody is getting out.”

“Good,” she said as he handed her a pinned device from his collar. Illana adjusted the frequency and got CYSO to acknowledge, though they didn’t know it was her.

“This is the Chief, authorization Seppa Hanna Jungo. Disable my main comlink frequency, that nubot has it. Route all my traffic to this one.”

“Chief, the escape pod went straight to the Nimma,” the CYSO staffer said, indicating one of the nearby destroyers. “The ship is not responding to the Captain’s hails. I think it might be rogue.”

“Tell the Captain to inform the Grand Admiral. I’m going after Veirdri. Where is she now?”

“Lost her in a maintenance storage room two decks above your position.”

“Lost how?”

“Cameras inside are down. As are others on 17 different decks. We’ve got dead zones everywhere.”

“Don’t focus only on the dead zones. They might be distractions away from other more important things. Is security moving?”

“They put out a full alert, everybody is mobilizing and we’ve got them heading to the rabbits’ last known positions. Should we send them to the dead zones?”

“Yes. But monitor everything. This isn’t random, they had this planned. They may be trying to disable other parts of the ship. Assume nothing. Check everything. Ask the Captain to order all non-essential crew to their quarters. We need to clear the cameras as much as possible.”

“Relaying now,” he said as Illana motioned to the two troopers. “Follow me.”

Aatroxiss stood on an extended platform over a swampy area that extended for keks across the horizon. Just behind him was a solid barrier wall that the platform was attached to, and below was a swarm of reptiles the Grand Admiral had never seen before, but according to the report Corva had sent him he knew they were called Vindar and were fairly intelligent, but only some of them had learned to speak basic, and those were individual test subjects, not the population in the paddock.

Some of them swam below the platform, others stood on clumps of grass or logs. Each of them was twice Aatroxiss’s mass at the minimum, and he wondered just how much food they required to sustain those large grey/green bodies.

“Does this paddock have a natural food source?”

“Only the wildlife,” General Hacking replied. “Like I said, these guys don’t want to touch anything but meat.”

“Trooper,” Aatroxiss said, gesturing for the box the man was carrying well away from the railing. The squawks and shrieks that made up the Vindar’s native language were unnerving, and it sounded like they were ready to eat whatever was thrown in to them, including anyone that fell over the low railing.

It was probably only hip height to facilitate feeding, but if someone ran into it the low bar would act like a pivot point and send them careening over the side, making it a bad engineering choice for a safety barrier on this platform, which was one of 128 spread across the paddock. It was estimated that there were somewhere between 80,000 and 120,000 Vindar here, but getting an accurate total was impossible given their ability to submerge to avoid scanning, as well as the fact that they were cold blooded and matched the temperature of the surrounding swamp, meaning infrared scanners were next to useless to track them.

Aatroxiss lifted the lid on the box as the trooper held it with both arms, taking out a series of large food cubes…the same size used for the Turook that they’d hastily loaded onto the Redemption before it left Harshoo. The Turook paddock here had already received them and they were eating them eagerly. The Grand Admiral would be sending them back to Harshoo as soon as the relief convoy arrived, but these other populations were going to have to be kept here indefinitely. Even if he could capture and load up all the Vindar into transports, he had no idea whether they’d be welcomed back to the worlds they’d been taken from or killed on the spot as outsiders, ‘contaminated,’ or for other reasons various populations had for killing their own.

So until he had a safe place for them to go, they were going to have to remain here…and he wouldn’t be feeding them the corpses from the other races, so they had to adjust and adjust fast.

Aatroxiss floated one of the cubes off an extended finger and flew it down towards the water. He stopped it just short, then began flying it around in easy striking distance…

The water exploded outward as a submerged one came to the surface and snatched it between his rounded extended jaws, then thrashed sideways as he chewed rapidly. A moment later the shredded food cube was swallowed and he looked up with gleaming pure black eyes at the Grand Admiral.

“See,” Aatroxiss said to Hacking. “Predators respond to movement. They don’t have time to smell or taste when they strike. If you just sit the food cubes down it doesn’t trigger their hunting instincts. But if we can get them to eat enough of these this way, they’ll remember they’re food later and take them off a serving platform,” he said, throwing out another two into the air and guiding them down to hover over the water like big insects. They persisted a bit longer, then were snatched up by two other Vindar, one of whom chirped back up at Aatroxiss.

He threw another one directly at it and it caught it without having to chase.

“I see what you mean, sir. I guess they do like them once they get a taste.”

“Taste and smell are not always the same thing,” he said, throwing a few dozen out and guiding them down as more Vindar started to approach from elsewhere to see what was happening, or perhaps expecting more corpse. “And if they mimic each other, all we need are a few that will eat them. The others will catch on.”

“And if they do, how do we get them to stop killing the wildlife?”

Aatroxiss sighed. “We can’t, unfortunately. Not unless we move them somewhere else, and I have nowhere to take them. We can construct a new paddock, but that will take time. Other than the Vixot and the Turook, we’re going to have to keep all these aliens here until I can figure out what to do with them.”

“About that, sir,” Hacking asked as Aatroxiss continued to fly cubes out to various areas so the Vindar wouldn’t start climbing on top of each other. They appeared to be very hungry.

“Yes?”

“Population control was achieved through culling the paddocks. If we’re not going to do that, we’re going to have a problem.”

“I know. But that’s a future problem. We’ve got enough current ones to deal with now. Keeping them alive is the top priority. Dealing with population growth will be a challenge for later.”

“Admiral, the reproductive rates are different for each race. This Vindar seem to reproduce according to how much food is available. If we feed them a decent amount, their population will explode.”

Aatroxiss stopped for a moment to look at him. “How fast can they reproduce?”

“They lay eggs,” he said, having had dekkas to study the captured records and deal with this planet as its de facto caretaker. “You can see them double their adult population in as little as 40 sulos.”

The Grand Admiral frowned hard. “They grow to maturity that fast?”

“Not to this size, but they can reproduce again after 40 sulos, give or take. The larger males tend to thin the numbers of the small ones in their territory, but we saw a population explosion when we upped their feeding even a small amount.”

“I need to see those files immediately,” Aatroxiss said, finishing the box the trooper had but not continuing on to the cargo speeder full of identical ones.

Hacking pulled out a dataslate from the backpack the trooper next to him was wearing…which saved the General from having to carry around a lot of trinkets needed in the field.

“Here, sir. I already compiled everything we have on each of the races and the potential problems I could see. The Novu actually reproduce faster than these beasts, but they control their population level by choice. The Vindar just seemed to blindly follow their instincts. There’s no way to make Imperial troopers out of them.”

“Which is probably why they were experimenting with bot implants,” Aatroxiss said, beginning to scan through the dataslate as the chirps and screeches below got more intense as the food stopped coming.

The mobile antenna on the trooper’s backpack, as well as the ones in the small convoy of speeders they’d brought to this paddock relayed a signal to the Grand Admiral’s comlink, which he pulled out of a pocket and put to his lips as he continued to read.

“Go ahead.”

“Sir,” Captain Mahansey’s voice said in a calm tone that he could tell was forced. “We’ve got a situation up here.”

He lowered the datapad and glanced at Hacking warily. “Explain, Captain.”

“Attempted sabotage of the ship and multiple crewmembers going awol when Chief Trigati made a public arrest in the cafeteria. One got out in an escape pod that she suggested we let go to see where it went. The Nimma picked it up and is now maneuvering with 6 other smaller warships towards us. I think they believe we’re disabled and I’ve allowed that illusion to play out by diminishing shield output, but our reactors are fine. The one they tried to sabotage was shut down prior to any major problems and is ready to ramp up again on command. The others have been reduced in output.”

“You’re saying there’s a mutiny in progress?”

“I believe so, sir. The Chief announced that there had been an attempted assassination against you. That set everything off. I think destroying the entire ship is their backup plan to get at you. They may not know you’re on the surface, but I wouldn’t count on it, Admiral.”

“Make sure no ships can bombard the planet, Captain. Other than that, do what you need to do to protect the ship.”

“They don’t have enough firepower to do us serious damage unless we actually were disabled, so I’ve got options. I think if we power up fully they’ll run. What would you prefer we do?”

“Do not abandon the convoy and the rest of the Fleet. If they run, let them go. If they come in close, try and disable as many as you can. But do not let the Redemption get hurt to make it a more convincing trap.”

“I won’t,” Mahansey promised. “The Chief also wanted me to tell you that she believes there are rogue elements on the planet in concert with the Fleet.”

“Thank you, Captain. I’ll remain down here until you get this settled. Contact me again only if you have problems. Your focus needs to be on the bridge.”

“I’ll get back to you when it’s over, Admiral. Watch your back down there,” he warned, then signed off.

“General,” Aatroxiss said, knowing he’d overheard all that. “We’ve either got some escaped prisoners or people that have eluded capture on the surface coordinating with traitors in the Fleet. Possibly more than those four in the Vixot paddock. Where could they be operating?”

“It’s a big settlement and we cleared it all room by room, but if they were able to move around during the search they could have taken up hiding in areas already cleared. I don’t see any way the prisoners could have been in contact with anyone in the Fleet or on the planet.”

“Do a head count of all prisoners, then begin sweeps of all buildings with communications infrastructure. You and I are heading to the bioweapons lab.”

“Sir?”

“I was recently poisoned, and if it happened to come from here that’s where I want to start looking for clues to what’s going on.”

“We cleared and sealed that entire area. I’ve kept a guard on the only entrance constantly.”

“Let’s confirm that personally,” he said, looking at the nearby troopers. “Dump three more boxes over the side, then we’re leaving.”

Hacking had pulled his helmet back on and was making silent comm calls as Aatroxiss left the platform to make room for the troopers as his mind raced with questions and possibilities. If Illana hadn’t contacted him personally then she was busy, probably running down the saboteurs. But how could they not know his shuttle had come down to the planet? If they wanted to kill him it would be easier than destroying the Redemption.

As for the who, he’d been cycling in crewmembers from other ships and sending out those from his flagship that he trusted had a decent understanding of his methods and expectations, so there were people who had previously served Gorgo onboard the Redemption in small numbers, as well as others from ships beyond the Rogue Admiral’s fleet.

But if they were coordinating to try and take him out this wasn’t just the remnants of an operation gone bust. There had to be an active control structure still in place. Other than Captain Montose, Aatroxiss didn’t know who else would be involved, but the size and scope of this facility indicated a lot of connections that he didn’t yet know of.

It was clear though, that Admiral Gorgo’s empire wasn’t dead just yet. And if they had the gall to try and not just kill him, but to destroy his battleship, they posed a more serious problem than he’d anticipated.

But why were they not striking him here on the ground where he was most vulnerable? He only had two dozen troopers with him.

Then again, if his flagship was destroyed there would be no coordination left in the Fleet. There would be a number of cruisers here without a clear ship with command authority. And in that situation a lot of the others might side with the traitors simply out of survival’s sake…but in any case, there would be enough chaos that even one ship could come down into the atmosphere and bombard his location on the surface.

And after what he’d done on Harshoo, maybe they knew better than to try to take him out in a conventional ground attack.

No matter how he looked at this it was not good, but if he could hold the pieces of his command together now it would be better to get this treason flushed out than have it simmer undetected and compromise the camaraderie he was building in his new Green Empire.

But if the poison had come from the planet and not ship stores, for there were no poisons on the battleship after Aatroxiss had jettisoned them along with a lot of other dishonorable items, then it meant things here were not under control and Hacking didn’t have as good of a handle on security as he thought. He didn’t assume it was the General’s fault, though. But someone being very clever and probably very desperate. He sensed that this facility was very important in whatever was going on out here under the High Admirals’ noses, and his coming here had probably prompted people to act before they had a solid plan in place.

Though to be fair, without his Keeno skills, the poison would have done the job. That told him he was dealing with professionals in a time crunch, and he’d rather be tracking them down than wait for them to come after him or his people again.

When the troopers returned to the speeders with empty boxes they jumped onboard one of the cargo sleds and Hacking ordered them all to get underway back to the main settlement. From there it was a short journey out to the independent bioweapons lab.

“Do you want a shuttle to speed things up?”

Aatroxiss shook his head. “It’s possible they’re monitoring communications. Better that you and I hunt these traitors down personally without giving them a heads up to what we’re doing.”

“And you think they’re in the bioweapons lab?”

“Possibly. I just want to get a look at their systems and see if I can confirm the poison came from there.”

“Poison?”

“My shower was laced with poison. A type that was not onboard the Redemption. It occurred after I came down to the planet.”

Hacking swore. “Sounds like special teams to me, Admiral. We killed a few in the fighting here because they were desperate to stop up. But if some laid back…drek. They could be just about anywhere. Especially with stealth suits. They’ll spoof the surveillance systems and let them open any door they want without us seeing it. They’ve got the priority code access for it.”

“Were they wearing stealth suits when you killed them?”

“No, sir. They’re not very good in open combat. But inside buildings or out in the jungle, they’re going to be very hard to find.”

“And with Vixot running everywhere out of the paddock, it gave them additional cover to maneuver.”

“Makes sense,” Hacking agreed. “By why bother when they have the run of the place anyway?”

“If they were guarding other people they’d be limited in their maneuvering, if I understand Imperial stealth suits correctly. They shouldn’t shield others from cameras.”

“No, sir, they wouldn’t. Just the operative. And only in Imperial structures. They’re less effective at jamming primitive systems, and can do nothing against landline cameras and sensor beams. They may seem like they’re invisible to technology, but they’re still vulnerable to the naked eye, just heavily camouflaged.”

“I hate to do it this way, but I can sweep the buildings in a way they can’t hide from.”

“That’s an awful lot of buildings, sir, and they could reposition again anyway.”

“Let’s assume they needed to move some non-special teams around and used the Vixot riot to cover them. Where could they go?”

“There are a number of small facilities in the jungle. We checked out all that were on the map, but there could be others. And if they’re camouflaged, they’d be nearly impossible to find.”

“We know four went into the Vixot paddock. Would they have a facility inside it?”

“I wouldn’t think so, sir. That seems more like an impromptu panic move.”

“Panic from what?”

“Your arrival…which would mean they had to have a link to either sensors or comms, otherwise they wouldn’t have known about the ships in space.”

“Well done, General. But that monitoring could be past tense. If they fled, they wouldn’t have access to it.”

“Unless the special teams stayed behind and everyone else that avoided capture had to flee. I still don’t know where they would have been hiding though. We were pretty thorough.”

“If there was a VIP bunker, odds are it wouldn’t have been on the facility schematics. Did you ever determine who the commanding officer was?”

“No, sir. We had lots of bodies but nobody was wearing insignia. It was like they’d purposely removed it all.”

“All the more reason to assume a high valued target was in the population. They may have been trying to wait out the occupation, but when my second convoy arrived they panicked.”

“That would fit, sir. My apologies if we missed anything. If there is a bunker I don’t know where it would be. We scanned and vetted each structure to look for secret passages or hidden lockers. Everything mathematically fit the schematics.”

“Then we’re missing something big,” Aatroxiss said as they flew down the dirt pathways, holding back only so the cargo sleds could keep up going around the turns with their extra mass.

“Maybe it was a psy op,” Hacking said, surprising the Grand Admiral.

“How so?”

“Their not destroying their computer systems completely seemed too lucky. I can put it down to people who didn’t know what they were doing, but if special teams are still here, they would not have allowed it to go down that way. I thought they’d gone down fighting because they were cornered. But what if they altered data in what we recovered to hide some bunkers or auxiliary facilities?”

“We know several people let the Vixot out who were unaccounted for, and we still have no idea where they came from, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you might be right. But if they fled into the paddock, then they assume we’re going to find them when your teams did not. What’s changed?”

“We were short staffed for an occupation, Admiral. You brought in a lot more people. Maybe they think they’re going to be found out.”

“Then that suggests they’re in the existing structures where more eyes might uncover something. We have to lock down every building and sweep them again. This time with me there.”

“Can you see through walls, sir?” Hacking asked half serious.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I can sense people in a way they can’t spoof.”

“What’s your range?”

“Depends on the size of the person. We’ll start in the bioweapons lab then move on to the other structures, but get them all locked down now.”

“On it, sir,” Hacking said, pulling his helmet back on again and making the necessary comm calls.

8

“Shield status?” Captain Mahansey asked as 7 different smaller ships in the Fleet fired on the Redemption while most of the rest stayed put. Some of them were urgently hailing the flagship demanding to know what was happening and what orders the Grand Admiral had for them…while others were conspicuously silent and doing nothing.

“18% and falling,” a green-skinned Hexdra answered. “We’ll be risking spot failures soon.”

“Steady everyone,” he cautioned, watching the attacking ships drifting closer and closer as they sensed the battleship was vulnerable. They were returning fire with only a third of their turboblasters and had yet to launch any fighters. In fact, the hatches over the fighter launch tubes were still closed. Hopefully they believed that the ship didn’t have the power to open them.

In actuality, the crew was rapidly outfitting the fighters with specialized missiles. They carried no bombers, unfortunately, but none of the other ships in the Fleet in this system carried fighters. Battleships were the smallest standard warship to do so, with large fleet operations relying on Star Carriers for fighter support.

So when he finally did release them, they would be unopposed…save for the weapons on the ships they were about to attack. Mahansey questioned himself about the tactic of using them, knowing he may lose several. The Grand Admiral had held fighters back previously to spare them from casualties when the flagship could handle the situation on its own, but he was also thinking of the crewmen on those ships that had been taken hostage by their Captains. He doubted they were all traitors, and he didn’t want to let them be taken away as captives.

He also didn’t want the Grand Admiral to lose those ships, few as they were in the Frontier.

“Starfighters are ready to launch, Captain.”

“Do so immediately,” he ordered the Lieutenant in charge of fighter coordination on the bridge, known as the ‘Bird Wrangler’ unofficially, but technically the Starfighter Coordination Officer. “Have engineering bring us up to full power on all reactors. Weapons, I want captures not kills. Weapons free when power is available, maximize shields, and bring us around to face the Yarrow Helda bow on,” he said, referring to one of the two cruisers opposing them.

Externally nothing changed except the rate of return fire, then fighters began spitting out of the rear of the ship and heading for the nearest attacking ships. As soon as they had a shot lined up they began firing IDF missiles and splattering the shields of a destroyer and a cutter with the engine-reducing goo as the shield strength of the battleship suddenly began to increase rather than decrease as fully charged shield generators that had not been activated suddenly popped to life and brought the total shield power up to 68%.

At which point the attacking ships hesitated only for a moment, then began breaking formation and running as the stream of fighters coming out of the flagship increased and spread out to all the ships. The Yarrow Helda, however, took a missile barrage from the Redemption and lost almost all engine power as the turboblasters pounded its shields and those of two nearby destroyers relentlessly.

“Tag the attacking ships and order the rest of the Fleet to engage and help disable them,” he said as a cutter accelerated hard and shrank on his screen quickly with three fighters staying with it and landing more missile shots. “Helm, stay with the Yarrow Helda. I want that ship in quicksand,” he said, using an old naval term for when its engines were so ineffective it could run to full power on them and barely move.

The cruiser, however, was not a weak ship, and its shields could take a lot of pounding before they would go down. Thankfully the IDF residue didn’t require the shields to be down to function, and as the cruiser tried to gain altitude above the planet four more missiles came in from another cruiser and blanketed the far side of the ship, cutting its propulsion down even further.

Mahansey nodded, mostly to himself. Everyone else was working their consoles and Commander Dein was down in the pit coordinating with the other ships in the Fleet rather than on the platform. As he watched, four of the attacking ships got away but were pursued, while the other three…the cruiser, a destroyer, and a frigate…had been caught so off guard they hadn’t been able to drift very far away. In fact, Mahansey would have had their Captains court martialed for the slow response under fire. Apparently the mind of the traitors had been on finishing the kill and assumed the sabotage would have been escalating damage throughout the engagement.

He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing from past Fleet experience what a ruptured plasma line near a reactor could do. That stuff ate away bulkheads like liquid fire…which technically it was…exploding components along the way. If it had breached the reactor itself, a small chunk of the ship would have been destroyed before the safety mechanisms could fully shut it down, for the reactor was not a battery you could turn on and off with the press of a button. It had to scale up and scale down, and right now all 6 reactors were scaling up to full power and showing that the flagship had not been disabled in the slightest.

Two cruisers vs a light battleship would be a stiff fight that the battleship would win, but against all 7 vessels it would have been nearly even when including the three squadrons of starfighters. The traitors were very bold to take it on, even when sabotaged, with the rest of the Fleet nearby. They must have hoped to act quickly and take out the Grand Admiral’s powerbase, and potentially him as well, before the Fleet could wake up to what was happening.

It still didn’t sit right with him. Maybe they were desperate, but to have infiltrated his ship so thoroughly only to botch it now…

“Yarrow Helda is dead in the water,” the Lieutenant at the sensor station announced. “But she’s not standing down.”

“Comms, try to contact CYSO or anyone else onboard that ship. They need to retake it before we have to destroy every weapon on it.”

“Yes, sir…sir!”

Mahansey caught the panic in the voice before he glanced back at the tactical hologram. Escape pods were spilling out of the cruiser like a flower sending seeds into the wind.

“Sensors, what’s their reactor status?”

“Stable, sir.”

“Maybe they’re fighting each other,” Commander Dein suggested, “and everyone else wants away from it.”

“If you were onboard a traitor’s ship, wouldn’t you…” he said, anger spiking even further as he saw several escape pods being vaporized by the cruiser’s batteries.

“Helm, move us into point blank range. Use our mass to cover some of the escape pods,” he said, seeing the Victor’s Charge live up to its name as the destroyer shot in alongside the cruiser close enough they almost touched. He winced when he saw a fresh escape pod launch and bounce off the destroyer’s shields. They were built tough on purpose, and he thought the pod might survive the impact, but the destroyer was shielding others that were moving away by blocking a fifth of the cruiser’s guns from firing on anything except it.

After seeing it and now the Redemption doing the same thing, other ships started to intervene without having to be ordered. Some interposed themselves, others began tractor beaming escape pods into their bays and taking them out of harm’s way as the cruiser’s shields got lower and lower, but still they couldn’t get a shot at her weapons yet, so many more escape pods bit the dust until they could get far enough away or into the shadow of the surrounding ships.

Mahansey saw several escape pods deliberately vector behind the friendly ships, glad to see they were thinking rather than just fleeing in panic.

“Captain, report from the Yarrow Helda. Loyal crew have retaken the engineering levels, but the bridge is releasing some sort of toxins into the air supply. Source unknown. Some of the crew are operating on breath masks, the rest are fleeing the ship. The crew trying to retake the bridge…are assumed to be dead.”

“Order them to power the ship down so we can board. Commander Dein, organize some boarding parties from the Fleet,” he said, with most of the Redemption’s troops still down on the surface with Colonel Hacking. They’d transferred over only a handful of replacements for security purposes, and he didn’t trust any of them to have the experience necessary for combat boarding.

Mahansey took a moment to look at where the other ships were. Three more were registering nearly or totally in quicksand, while a destroyer, a frigate, and the other cruiser were racing towards the planetary jumppoint for the star, all at reduced speed with the Fleet beginning to catch up. All the Redemption’s fighters showed as having expended their IDF missiles, though they were pursuing as well.

“Recall the fighters,” he ordered. “But have the Fleet keep up pursuit. Those ships are slowed. We should be able to get them all.”

“Captain,” the sensor Lieutenant interrupted. “We have two cruisers headed the wrong way. I think they’re AWOL.”

Mahansey growled, looking at the hologram and adjusting it to zoom out. There he saw the Ikan Peak and Guilder Folly moving towards a jumppoint for another planet in the system.

“Hail them,” he ordered, not expecting a response. Those were two of the ships that had stayed put and done nothing…and both were previously in Admiral Gorgo’s fleet. If they were traitors, why hadn’t they fired on the Redemption? Four cruisers were more than a match for her, though she could outrun them.

This made no sense. They hadn’t helped in the attack but were now fleeing? What was going on here?”

To his surprise, he got a response.

“Captain Juniper,” he said gravely as the green/black skinned man’s image appeared in holo. “Explain yourself.”

“My apologies, Mahansey. I didn’t want it to come to this. I won’t fire on another Imperial ship, but the Grand Admiral is destroying everything Admiral Gorgo was building. I can’t be a part of that.”

“Gorgo is dead, so what does it matter now?”

“Things were improving out here. You don’t know what it’s like, being sent out here to serve. The Frontier is a graveyard, Captain. But we don’t die quickly unless we’re lucky. Gorgo was changing that.”

“Are you blind? The Grand Admiral is doing far more than Gorgo did.”

“Is it true he’s a Keeno?”

“Of course. He’s not hiding it anymore.”

“Then he will betray the Empire eventually. I can’t be a part of that. I didn’t participate in the attack on your ship out of respect, Mahansey. But you’re serving an enemy of the Empire. The next time we meet, well…I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“It will come to that. You really think he’s just going to let this treason stand?”

“It’s not treason to defend the Empire.”

“The Emperor personally appointed him!” Mahansey half yelled in exasperation.

“The Emperor has no idea what is going on out here.”

“What about his observer onboard your ship? Did you consult with him first?”

“I did. He said he is not here to give orders or advice, only watch and record.”

“And what of your command? You only have it because the Grand Admiral put you there.”

“I inherited it when he removed the rightful commander of this ship. I cannot tolerate so many injustices, Mahansey. He’s overriding protocol, even disobeying the Emperor’s Standing Orders.”

“He has authority to do so.”

“Does he?”

“I’ve seen the orders myself. The Emperor gave him full control of the Frontier. You are not authorized to overrule the Emperor’s orders because you think them unjust.”

“Perhaps not, but out here there is very little the Emperor knows or understands. We are the lost ones, Captain. And we have to look out for each other in addition to looking out for the best interests of the Empire. I’m still loyal to it, despite what it’s condemned me to endure. You haven’t been planetside yet, have you? On any of our colonies out here?”

“I’m a starship Captain, my place is not on the surface.”

“When you eventually get around to one of our colonies take a look at the conditions we’re living under. Gorgo was improving things. He was giving us a future that Mubarak and the other High Clowns couldn’t. I’m not going to let what he built be destroyed. And neither will others. So this is where we part ways, Captain.”

“Where exactly do you have to go to, Captain? The Grand Admiral has authority over the entire Frontier.”

“In name only. Admiral Gorgo had partners. He wasn’t some petty dictator creating a vanity project. He was working to build an honorable future for the Frontier. The Grand Admiral may have killed him, but he didn’t kill his organization and allies. They’re going to need ships, and they will have this cruiser. The Grand Admiral will not.”

“How can you be so casual with your treason?”

“He’s a Keeno,” Juniper stated harshly. “And if the Emperor thinks it wise to give command of the Frontier to a sworn enemy of the Empire, then perhaps he is no longer fit to rule it.”

Mahansey nodded, with that last bit sealing the deal in his mind. “If you’re taken alive, you’ll be grateful for the Grand Admiral’s Standing Orders…because otherwise I’d kill you myself when we catch you.”

“I’m not the only one who thinks this way, Captain. You’d be mindful to remember that, because the true Empire does execute prisoners when necessary,” he said, with his hologram winking out before Mahansey could respond.

He glanced back at the positions of the other ships, having been drawn into that discussion for far too long. Four were pinned down, but the chase of the other three was still ongoing. And those two cruisers were too far away to chase down with anything other than the Redemption or a corvette…and the corvettes couldn’t stop them.

The Grand Admiral had ordered him not to pursue and leave the Fleet and planet unprotected. And if his memory served, there were more than two ships that had stood still and done nothing. What would they do if the Redemption suddenly took off after those cruisers?

He wasn’t going to find out, and as he watched the ongoing firefight with the Yarrow Helda, its shields and weapons suddenly went offline and the turboblasters started chewing into the hull plating and weapons.

“Cease fire,” he ordered. “I want that ship in as good of condition as we can get. Commander, any luck with the others?”

“Not yet, sir. I’m fairly sure our messages are getting through. There’s no jamming fields active. But nobody is picking up.”

“Keep trying. Sensors, are we seeing any movement of the freighters?”

“No, sir. They haven’t budged, but some are picking up escape pods.”

“I want those people recovered sent to the Redemption for screening immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Commander, where’s my boarding parties…”

Aatroxiss, General Hacking, and two troopers entered the bioweapons research facility through the only known entrance. The Grand Admiral had been here before, healing the test subjects prior to moving them up to the medical ship or back into their paddocks after he had the medics do a decon scan. He didn’t want to have missed something, but all surface scans and blood samples showed they were clean.

The Kalla gave a person enormous abilities once they learned to use them, and without the techniques developed by the Keeno and passed onto him, all he would have been able to accomplish might be some Kalla objects. Crafting skills was enormously time consuming, difficult, and elusive. And during its long history the Order had developed cleansing techniques for toxins and germs, not just within the body but also on the surface. So when Aatroxiss had exposed himself to the subjects and, in some cases, the contaminated air they were breathing, he had to purge himself before he could leave the enclosed cells.

Those cells were now empty and irradicated of any living thing, toxin, or even air particle. The cells were designed to self-sterilize and the Grand Admiral had ordered them to do so after they were evacuated. He’d had scanning crews come down to confirm the results, including the air in the corridors, before he’d sealed up the place and moved on to the next group of medically tortured people.

That day was still a blur in his memory, and he’d been so focused on getting to the people who were at the edge of death he never truly took a look around this place…but now he was, very methodically, with his companions in tow with guards still at the entrance to make sure no one else entered.

But as he looked with his eyes and ears, he was also seeing in the Kalla. Not just passively, but he was actively sending out a pulse that would reflect off a person’s own Kalla…making it a true lifeform detector. The Empire had several pieces of technology that referred to that term, but none of them could actually pick up life, only its residue, whether it be heat, biomolecules released into the air, or movement. One could not scan a ship or building to see if there were lifeforms inside the way holovids suggested. That was one bit of fiction that had not become reality as the galaxy progressed.

Except for the Keeno. And it wasn’t technology, but a simple technique developed long ago that they had wisely kept to themselves along with many others. As feared as they were by the Empire, it never understood their true range of abilities…and he hoped the captive Keeno hadn’t taught the Emperor everything.

Aatroxiss’s passive scans didn’t pick up anything, but the active ones reached all the way out into the jungle beyond the facility. That backdrop made it confusing, for all he could see were glowing spots in his enhanced vision and getting a range on them was difficult. So he walked around, getting different angles on them as many moved about, trying to determine if they were inside or the wildlife beyond.

“Admiral,” Hacking said, stopping him in the middle of one large room that had storage cabinets everywhere. The white lockers had no windows in them, so it was impossible to determine what was inside without opening them…though many had hazard warnings on them of various levels.

“General?” he replied, turning to face him across the room and several slab-like tables made of solid blocks with no airspace underneath.

“I may not be a Keeno, sir, but I can still use my eyes,” he said, waving him over.

Aatroxiss came around the table and followed Hacking’s eyeline to the floor…where there was half a footprint in the dust that had begun to accumulate in the chamber.

“The circulation systems are down in here. Why?” the Grand Admiral asked, for the lights were still functioning.

“Not my point, sir. Look at the direction of the footprint.”

“Not facing the table,” he said, seeing his point. “But where did the dust come from? This entire facility has high end air filters.”

Hacking glanced up at the ceiling, just above the table, where one of the vents were located, sticking down half an arm’s length out of the otherwise smooth white that every surface in the room was constructed of.

“Decoy,” Aatroxiss said, jumping up on top of the table and reaching up to barely touch the underside of it. There was no air moving from it at all. He put a hand against it and concentrated for a moment, then he smirked. “Good catch, General.”

The Grand Admiral hopped back off the table then raised a hand towards the filtration unit. He didn’t bother trying to unlock it, but rather ripped it from the ceiling and whatever was bracing it…and down out of the unit lowered a narrow but elegant stairway that draped over the edge of the table and ended just where Hacking had found the partial boot print.

“How did you trigger it?” he asked.

“I didn’t. They probably have a remote trigger, or maybe a hidden one in the room. Whatever was holding it in place I just broke.”

“Trooper,” Hacking said, signaling one of them to go up first.

Aatroxiss knew there was nobody up there, or he would have sensed them, so he let the man climb until his feet were all that was in view.

“Narrow passage, sir,” the trooper’s voice came back down audibly with a bit of an echo. “Shoulder-width only. Goes a long way into the darkness. Do you want me to scout it?”

“Come back down,” Aatroxiss said before Hacking could answer. When he did, the Grand Admiral took his place and climbed up enough to look down the passage. It was pitch black, but he used his Essence to scan the immediate area looking for a switch of some kind, but there wasn’t one nor lights in the chamber to turn on. It was just a conduit built approximately the size of a Vixot.

But on the floor was more than dust. It was crushed dirt tracked in from boots. That explained the dust below, in a chamber that wouldn’t have needed a filtration unit when the hallway outside would cycle air with it every time the door was opened. But someone was tracking the dust in now, meaning this route had been used quite a bit and probably led outside.

“General, I’m going to do a quick recon. Stay here and guard this point. There’s enough dirt up here to suggest it’s been used more than occasionally.”

“Yes…sir,” Hacking said as Aatroxiss disappeared in a blur from the hole in the ceiling. His first few steps were audible and firing off so fast he had to be running, but then it was back to silence.

“Door and here,” the General said, pointing to the base of the stairs, with the troopers taking up the two positions while he climbed up and poked his head into the blackness, unable to see or hear anything. The Grand Admiral had completely disappeared. But he saw the dirt too, and ran his fingers across it, tracing out another partial footprint and examining its size. He flicked on his helmet lights and was perplexed when he saw the tread pattern.

“Drek,” he said, looking down and not seeing anything but more passageway with his lights. It seemed to go on forever, and the Grand Admiral didn’t have any lights with him, as far as he knew. Could he see in the dark along with all his other skills?

A moment later, spooking Hacking, his running image came back into view at the very edge of his light’s range running so fast he was back onto his position within a few mitos.

“We need more troopers,” he said as Hacking backed down to make room for him to exit.

“What did you find?”

“The passageway branches off in multiple places. It’s possible this runs across the entire complex. One tunnel goes down and heads off in the direction of the settlement. I didn’t check the others yet. We need troopers, portable lights, and sensor pads.”

“Right under our frenning noses,” he said, pulling his helmet off and looking at the Grand Admiral warily. “Sorry I missed this, sir.”

“You found it, General.”

“We scanned this building for extra chambers, sir. I don’t know how we missed this.”

“Do you normally scan the ceiling?”

Hacking made a sound of something between a grunt and cough. “They know our procedures and put the entrance where they knew we wouldn’t look. And that tunnel is about the width of a service line conduit.”

“It is a service line conduit, but one that’s had all the pipes and cables rerouted elsewhere.”

“So that’s why the air wasn’t circulating,” one of the troopers said, getting a nod from Aatroxiss in confirmation.

“Yes, and the only way to confirm it was gutted was by sending in crawlbots. Otherwise it would look the same as the blueprints.”

“We should have noticed the lack of power lines,” Hacking said, making a mental note to have a chat with his scanning crews later.

“An improvement for protocol later,” Aatroxiss said dismissively. “We need equipment and troopers here to start taking control of these tunnels. I’ll lead the way, but I need you to claim the ground we cover and cut off any backtracking of whoever we find down there. I also want scans added to our tactical maps as we go. I expect a fight somewhere, so I need to go first.”

“How long do you want to wait?” he asked, knowing more time meant more troopers gathered and transported here.

“We need to do this properly, not fast. Bring in more than you think we’ll need.”

“If there are special teams here, they may have spider traps in place, Admiral. Shouldn’t we get you a set of armor, just in case?”

“Would armor stop most of the spider traps?” he asked, referring to traps that were put in places where traffic was expected to come, thus bringing their targets to them rather than sending out hunters to track them down.

“It might stop the one that saves your life, sir.”

“Actually, you might be right. If they know who I am on sight, it would be better if they thought I was just a trooper.”

“What size do you use?” he asked, knowing that trooper armor was adjustable to a point, and based off 7 different default sizes.

“Four. And get some aircraft here as well. At least one of these tunnels goes to the surface where that dirt came from. If we spook them out to the surface, I want them spotted and tracked.”

“Can you wait an ahka or more?”

“Take your time, General. I’m going to have a look around the rest of this facility. Keep someone stationed here in case this tunnel is used, but otherwise assemble your troops at your leisure.”

“You think there are other tunnels in here?”

“I think I need some questions answered about other matters, and as long as we have to wait I might as well use the time.”

“What about the situation with the Fleet?”

“Mahansey will deal with it. We discussed this possibility earlier. He knows what to do. But check in with everyone on the planet and put them on alert. If these tunnels are as widespread as I think, your troops could get ambushed anywhere. Until we have this fully mapped and secured, consider this an active combat zone.”

“On it, sir,” he said, pulling his helmet back on as Aatroxiss left the room and began looking for where the poison might have come from. If they didn’t have stores of it here, then maybe they did in the tunnel network. But if there were such things in play in this building, he didn’t want someone getting backdoor access to them. Sealing off the building had been Hacking’s idea rather than trying to take an inventory of everything here and decide what was harmful and harmless…

Illana ducked behind a trooper as blaster shots came out of the doorway into the corridor from the maintenance locker, which was actually a medium-sized warehouse, as two troopers forced open the locked door with it sliding sideways into the wall. And the shots were not stun shots.

“Stay back, Chief. We’ve got this. She can’t get through our armor in one shot,” he said, being one of four armored troopers to finally catch up with her as she tracked down the saboteur. It had been a game of cat and mouse across half the ship, but when Veirdri had nearly got to an escape pod at the end of this corridor she’d been cut off and had ducked into the maintenance locker…which had no other exit point except an identical door further down the corridor that was now also guarded.

She’d run herself into a corner…or so it seemed.

“Wait,” Illana said, putting a hand on his green armored shoulder, for he was one of the Grand Admiral’s personal guard who he had left onboard the ship. “There might be explosives in there. Improvised. Don’t just go rushing in.”

“Right, Chief. Troopers, other door. Fire some stun shots back through this one, keep her busy,” he said, transmitting and speaking audibly through his helmet simultaneously so Illana could copy his orders.

Illana clutched a larger pistol that the troopers had got her. It wasn’t as nice or compact as her personal one Aatroxiss had given her, but it was also a bit more powerful. Hopefully she wouldn’t need it, because she wasn’t wearing armor. So she stayed behind this trooper as they breached the other door and began to fan out inside. Blaster fire started to go in this door as a distraction, but a few moments later the trooper firing in was thrown back out by a huge plume of orange/black smoke and debris as it looked like the entire room blew up.

The concussion wave knocked Illana back into the wall and she thought she’d blacked out, but it was the air that was black above her, leaving a slight bit of cleaner cool air along the floor as she started hacking as it entered her lungs…then a firm hand grabbed her wrist and picked her up, her pistol dropped on the floor, then she was carried through the smoke, coughing even more and unable to do more than suffer as she was bounced away from the explosion on the back of the trooper.

By the time he got her into clean air she was vomiting blood, but she’d find out later it was actually coming from her lungs. He laid her on the floor, his green armor dripping the purple/black blood all Vixot carried in their veins, but his own helmet filters had kept the worst from getting to him.

Illana couldn’t speak. She couldn’t do anything other than lie limp on the floor with almost no oxygen in her blood stream and her lungs wrecked by the toxic smoke. She lay tipped over, blood running out of her mouth until someone put a hand over her face and liquid cool was forced into her.

She felt a jab into her arm and twisted her eyes enough to see it was a lifeline. Her blood ran through it, up into a small device that was being strapped to her arm, then back into her body, filtering out toxins, injecting food or, in this case, oxygen, directly into her bloodstream in case the mask treatment didn’t work.

Illana barely held onto consciousness throughout the ordeal, but slowly her head steadied and her heaving lungs slowed down a bit, but no one was moving her and three medics were stationed around her along with the trooper that was standing guard nearby.

“If you can understand me, blink three times,” one of the medics said, looking directly down into her face when she started to move a bit.

Illana managed to comply, and the medic sighed in relief.

“Good. Just sit tight, Chief. If you haven’t died yet you’re going to make it. Your vitals are slowly improving, but it’s going to take time. We’re gonna sit right here until you’re good to move. They say the area is secure.”

Illana’s eyes moved to the trooper, back to the medic, then to the trooper again.

“Hey, I think she wants you,” the medic said, getting the trooper’s attention.

He knelt beside her. “You were right. Suicide blast. We’ve recovered her body, she’s toast.”

“What blew up?” the medic asked.

“We think some cleaning chemicals.”

One of the other medics pulled at Illana’s other arm and injected her with something. Her vision started to black out, but she nodded at the trooper enough for him to get the message, then the next thing she would remember was waking up 3 sulos later…

Aatroxiss found lots of nasty stuff in the bioweapons lab, all of it carefully inventoried. The files here had not been damaged, for this structure was completely separate from the interlinked computer systems of the colony. Hacking hadn’t been able to make much of it, nor had he time, and Corva hadn’t transmitted back the contents in his message, only adding in the big details he thought pertinent.

The small details the Grand Admiral was finding here were enough to turn your stomach, and somehow his Imperial codes still worked on the computer system. Why Gorgo’s people hadn’t changed them he didn’t know, but it appeared he had full access.

Gorgo and his partners had been busy. Two of them he’d found listed under various projects. One was Planetary Governor Itruyo of the Fangar colony, who had been receiving various updates to a virus necessary to slowly wipe the native race of Deriun from existence in defiance of an order from High Admiral Laro indicating that the race was a potential Imperial asset if they could discover how to properly domesticate them. Apparently Itruyo didn’t want that responsibility and was looking to take them out through a series of natural illnesses that this research colony was providing. There were no Deriun in the paddocks, but Aatroxiss had healed several of them in the cells here, meaning they’d been snatched off their world along with who knew how many others and brought here to suffer and die to give Gorgo’s people medical data.

The other co-conspirator listed so far was Jare Rissen, who held no rank in the Empire, military or civilian. He was an entrepreneur with assets in the Frontier and Districts 14 and 18, which both bordered this portion of it. Rissen had been cooking up libidinous drugs and using the Vixot here to perfect them. And by libidinous, they rendered a person’s normal cognitive functions even more reduced when turned on, making anyone who was injected with the so-called ‘pleasure serum’ a dumb, horny, one-track-minded individual who would not only welcome, but pursue any sexual activity they could acquire.

Making for the perfect buzz juice for paying customers, or more likely to quickly create prostitutes out of the unwilling. Keep them drugged up and they’d be begging for it. The trouble was, the survival rate on high doses of the serum was not good and they were trying to prolong it past the 2.4 dekkas effective range.

This facility hadn’t invented the concept, but this particular serum was so potent it was not just suppressing brain activity, but actually destroying brain cells. Leaving the individuals more and more unresponsive until they finally dropped over dead.

And that was one of the nicer projects that had been in development here.

Aatroxiss hadn’t yet come across any poison that matched his symptoms when Hacking finally caught up with him.

“Ready, General?”

“Ready, sir, if you are?”

“I’ve had my fill of evil doctors’ machinations for today,” he said, closing down the files and logging out. “You have my armor?”

“This way, sir.”

Aatroxiss followed him through the facility to where a group of yellow-armored troopers were standing by fully outfitted with combat gear and additional packs full of equipment, but narrow enough they should be able to fit through the tunnels.

“Apologies for the color, Admiral,” he said, referencing the yellow. “But it’s better if you’re anonymous anyway.”

“True,” Aatroxiss said, mentally sighing. He’d promised himself he’d never wear the yellow, but in this case Hacking was correct. Best to blend in.

He donned the armor quickly, adjusting it in the places where applicable, and pulled on the helmet, feeling very confined, but his vision ahead seemed mostly unobscured.

“Do you want a rifle, sir?”

“Pistol,” he said, audibly through the mask via an external transmitter. Without it all someone would hear would be soft words at most unless you yelled. “Actually, make that two,” he said as a trooper handed him one that was smaller than expected. It was light enough that he wouldn’t need to double grip it.

He got a second and moved his arms around a bit experimentally.

“Are we taking prisoners, sir?”

“Keep your weapons on kill in case our opposition is wearing armor. But switch to stun for anyone unarmored. If we find people we shoot first and ask questions later. If you have someone wounded and disabled, switch to stun. But if there’s a firefight with special teams, gun them down until you have a significant advantage. Only then switch to stun. Clear?”

“What if we find they have hostages or more research subjects?”

“Stun them too. We’ll sort things out later,” he said, hefting both pistols into the air near his head as he slid through the troopers enroute to the room with the hidden staircase. “I want two troopers with crawlbots following me. After that organize as you like, General. But place transmitters at every junction in the tunnel. I’m willing to bet they’re comm shielded. I’ll coordinate with you over channel 4. I see you’re using 1 and 2, correct?”

“And 3 for Fleet transmissions, yes, sir. But I haven’t gotten anything from them in a while.”

“If Mahansey is having problems he’ll contact me. So right now no news is good news. Make sure we maintain a link to the Fleet and keep some troopers here to secure it. Alright boys, on me. Time for some armed exploration,” he said as he got back into the room and bypassed the guard at the base of the stairs. He hopped up them double stepping and disappeared into the tunnel with two backpack-carrying troopers following at a slower pace.

After that a long line of yellow army ants followed, with General Hacking 8th in line and Aatroxiss pulling far ahead of the others as he scouted the tunnel up to the first intersection…

9

“Captain, the first boarding party on the Yarrow Helda is reporting high toxin levels. They’re going to have to delay to get vacuum-rated armor on their troopers.”

“Very well,” Mahansey said, irritated. If Commander Reiol of the destroyer Averbank had been paying attention he would have already equipped them with the space-worthy mods. “Contact the other boarding parties and inform them of the situation.”

“Victor’s Charge’s team is cutting in from vacuum, sir.”

“Good,” he said, knowing that meant the troopers involved had to be wearing the altered torso and neck pieces that contained air recycling equipment. The rest of their armor was already air-tight, but the normal breath mask on the Imperial trooper’s helmets was filtered only. You had to have an addition to it to secure against vacuum, or in this case excessive toxins. You also had to have a backup air supply, which the torso section added by making the troopers a little hunchbacked.

You didn’t want that extra load when fighting anywhere but space, so it wasn’t standard equipment. And when boarding ships you could go either way if you had an airlock access.

The Yarrow Helda wasn’t moving, with the Redemption and four other ships surrounding it and contributing small boarding teams while the other loyal cruisers in the Fleet were using their larger trooper detachments to board the other 3 ships nearby. The remaining three had all been caught, but one was already on its way to the star and the boarding process was happening in transit.

That was necessary, otherwise they’d have to let the target destroyer have its engine power back before arrival…otherwise it would ram the star and kill all those onboard. But if they let it have its engine power back it might escape, so a boarding during the coast phase was necessary. Fortunately the transit time from planet to star was elongated due to the destroyer not jumping at full power.

Mahansey just hoped the crew didn’t do anything stupid like gassing the ship. If they launched escape pods and they weren’t picked up in time, there was no way they could decelerate before ramming the star.

And during these operations the Imperial destroyer Havid Loka had slipped off, trailing the two AWOL cruisers, and Mahansey was waiting to see if any others ships would bail while they worked to recover the 7 that had stupidly attacked the flagship. The reason why the Grand Admiral had chosen the Redemption was the fact that it was faster than every other Imperial capital ship and most of the smaller second line warships. If there had been enough traitors to outgun the battleship, then it could have simply ran off and survived.

The only way they were going to destroy her was to sabotage her first. They’d taken their shot and screwed it up, thankfully, but the inaction of a chunk of the Fleet worried him more now. It was something the Grand Admiral was going to have to deal with when he returned.

And Captain Mahansey wanted to give him back these seven ships and their crews, minus the existing losses. Over the next few ahka he’d know how successful his boarding parties were…and how many last stands the traitorous members of the crew managed, and how far they were willing to go to defy capture.

So far none of the captured ships had exploded, but beyond that he wasn’t too hopeful. A large portion of their crews had to be complicit, otherwise the loyal crew would have taken them out by now.

“Captain, report from the Hilda Ruma,” the comm officer said, referring to the frigate that drifted close to the Redemption and had been disabled early in the engagement. “The traitors have been killed and the crew is opening up the hangar bay for our boarding parties. The highest surviving officer is a Tuvark, and they’re requesting we send someone to take command.”

Mahansey grunted. “Finally some good news,” he said under his breath. “Find Hexdra Tinnis and send a shuttle over with him and two troopers as body guards. They are to stay with him at all times.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mahansey watched on the hologram as the frigate was reclassified from a hostile to a neutral with a change of color from red to gray. If Tinnis was able to take command it would turn back to green and reenter the Fleet’s shared data links, but not before. The three ships that had bailed and were now headed away from this planet to another before transitioning to the star were categorized as yellow. Red was reserved for active threats that were engaging the ship or Fleet. But anything other than green across the board was a defeat here.

This was one of those days Mahansey was not proud to be an Imperial. This Fleet was a disgrace, and even though the Grand Admiral had cautioned him about something like this happening, he hadn’t truly wanted to believe it. Without a senior officer like Admiral Gorgo calling the shots, he hadn’t thought lower ranking officers had enough gall to defy the chain of command so blatantly.

He was wrong. And it made him wonder what other assumptions he was wrong about…and whether this was a symptom of the Frontier or the entire Imperial Fleet…

Aatroxiss had moved through three separate passageways that ran underneath the bioweapons research lab, discovering one more hidden entrance and two tunnels that led further out away from the settlement. Those he had the troopers deploy crawlbots into, with the tiny caterpillar-like machines able to walk on the floor, walls, or even ceiling, and rapidly too. With a comm beacon attached to the ceiling of intersections where the spurs connected, the little bots moved down them, mapping as they went and transmitting back their data.

But if there was a curve to the tunnels they’d lose the active link, so Aatroxiss sent two scouts to follow them at a distance, laying additional beacons where necessary as he and the main force headed off down the tunnel that led back in the direction of the settlement.

He ran ahead of the rest, barely missing the walls in his bulky armor. Every now and then he’d stop at a side door that led to what was essentially a survival room should the tunnel be compromised. It was large enough to hold half a dozen men, contained breathing equipment, emergency food and medical kits, and most importantly ladder access to the surface that was buried under an arm’s length of dirt, but there were digging tools available to allow them to remove the cover over the spherical caps that rotated to reveal an opening.

Aatroxiss had those mapped now, with a trooper stationed on the surface at each of them calling for additional equipment to be flown in to those locations to properly monitor the area as he continued on, looking ahead with his Kalla-enhanced eyes until he finally picked up some subsurface contacts that were bigger than worms and insects.

“General,” he said into his helmet mic and transmitted back along the line of single file troopers crammed into the narrow hallway. “Contacts ahead. Estimate between 10 and 20 on the right side and spread out, so it must be a large chamber. My map says we’re still beyond the settlement, so there shouldn’t be any buildings overhead to escape into. We might have them pinned here save for bolt holes.”

“Set your helmet to transmit visuals back to the rest of us,” Hacking suggested.

“This one has a camera?” he said, working through the HUD menu.

“They all do, but flatscreen only and no memory chips. We can live stream though. Let us see what’s happening before we enter that room.”

“Got it,” Aatroxiss said, “sending out the transmission and knowing that those ahead might be able to pick it up…but if the walls were shielded then it would be down to line of sight or repeaters in the corridor, and so far he hadn’t noticed any.

“I’m receiving,” Hacking said. “Anyone not?”

He received silence in response, so he assumed all the troopers ahead and behind him were in the link, as well as eager to get out of these claustrophobic tunnels. They’d be easy targets if someone had any surprises for them in here, and the sooner they got some maneuvering room the better.

But no one outwardly complained. Hacking could just tell by their body language and his own discomfort, for they matched.

Aatroxiss ran ahead slowly, trying to keep his boots from making too much noise as he approached a side door that widened out into an atrium two steps wide before narrowing again to a standard one-man door. The sides of the atrium were angled and would allow two men to stand there poking around either corner. Other than that, it was nothing special other than a larger air space.

The door at the base of the funnel design was shut. Aatroxiss stood there for a moment, using his Kalla as best he could to sense what was on the other side. At short range he could get a faint feeling of objects on the other side, but that was as close as he got to seeing through walls. The bright spots, however, were the people, and one was directly to his right while others were behind some interior walls.

“General, there’s a contact near the door. I’m going to pull him behind me and disarm him. I want him stunned into unconsciousness so we get at least one prisoner out of this. I’ll move forward over him. He’ll be directly in front of the door. Don’t trip.”

“Hear that, grunts? First guy stun, the rest fire normal blasts. Alternate right and left when you leave the door. Ready when you are, Admiral.”

Aatroxiss said nothing more, merely pushing the button on the automatic door and having it swish aside to reveal the wall ahead…except it wasn’t a wall. It was stacked cargo crates and most of the people were on the other side of them.

He came around and looked at the man beside him, sitting in a chair tipped back against the wall. He was unarmored and had a mug in his hand…that he threw at Aatroxiss as he scrambled to his feet.

The mug bounced off the Grand Admiral’s chest as he raised a hand and pulled the man back in an invisible grip, dragging him underneath his own feet and pumped two pistol stun shots into him then completely forgetting about him as he ran to the right and turned around, firing both directions with his pistols and catching one more person in the leg as two others ran behind the edge of the crates.

He hadn’t expected to catch them unarmored, but their luck didn’t last long before return shots started coming over the crates as heads popped up and took aim. Aatroxiss took both of the first two shots into his Kalla shields, then ran forward and pushed into the top of the crates that were stacked two high.

It moved a little, but was too heavy to push over and he didn’t want to waste his diminished Kalla on it. Shots from his men made the head poppers disappear behind the crates as his yellow-armored troopers moved in and spread out, taking up positions on either end of the crate wall and stunning the second man unconscious.

Aatroxiss was thankful for that. They could have just killed him, or maybe they didn’t have time to switch their weapons back to the kill setting before they shot. Either way, two were down and out. The rest were on the other side and moving around, but he couldn’t tell more than that.

One of his troopers sent a hovering drone up and over the edge of the crate, sending an image to all their HUDs in a tiny side window. It didn’t last long, shot out of the air, but it gave them an idea what was over there.

A lot of men without armor, but now with heavy weapons and what looked like some grenades.

“Hold,” Aatroxiss said to his men, then amped up his external mic. “You men in there, stand down. We’re not here to kill you. Identify yourselves.”

“We don’t negotiate with rebels,” someone said, and a grenade came over the crate wall. Aatroxiss barely had time to grab it and pin it to the ceiling. He didn’t want to send it back the other way or let it fall on his troops. He held it there, creating a weak bubble-like shield over it that was destroyed when it blew, but most of the speed of the shrapnel was reduced enough to clank off their armor rather than penetrate…though on the other side of the wall he heard some grunts from impacts.

And that drained a significant portion of his remaining Kalla.

“Do that again and we’ll mow you down!” he yelled, pulling off his helmet so he could speak clearly. “Are you traitors or do you still serve the Emperor? I am here on his personal orders. So either identify yourselves or be branded traitors and destroyed!”

“Who are you?” one of them asked, his voice carrying through the thin layer of smoke now in the chamber that the air filters were trying to pull out, but one of them had been destroyed by the grenade and the other one looked to have its grate partially blocked by twisted metal.

“I am Grand Admiral Aatroxiss, appointed by the Emperor to rule over the Frontier. Admiral Gorgo was a rogue, and I’m betting he didn’t inform you of the transfer of power.”

“What kind of an idiot do you think we are? No senior officer would come down here.”

“Are you special teams?”

“What if we are?”

“The Emperor recalled you. Why are you still here?”

“We received no recall order.”

“You can blame that on Gorgo. I have a copy of the order, but only one on me. So don’t shoot it. I’m sending it on your right.”

Aatroxiss pulled the holodisk out of his neckline where he had stashed it in a tiny crevice, knowing his pockets would be pinned down inside his armor at best, if not making for awkward lumps when he moved. He flicked the hologram on then levitated the disc around the corner of the crates to where it was just in view of both him and the people on the other side.

“Reach out and take it. We won’t shoot you.”

Fast as a blink, a hand grabbed the disc and recoiled behind the crates, then Aatroxiss waited patiently, as did his men, while they reviewed the unconventional orders the Emperor had given publicly concerning the Frontier…and the secret ones to his unseen agents.

“We never received anything like this,” a different voice said. One with more of a command tone. “Why did you attack this facility?”

“It refused to comply with the chain of command,” Aatroxiss said simply. That wouldn’t be enough of an answer for himself, but in the Empire it carried a lot more gravitas. “Admiral Gorgo was setting up his own Empire out here in defiance of the High Admirals. When I transmitted the Emperor’s orders to him, he refused to follow them. ICAP then executed him and I’ve been picking up the pieces of his operations ever since, which led me here. I sent Admiral Corva to take command of this facility, and you refused.”

“We were told you were the rogue agents. We were just doing our duty.”

“Which is why I’d rather not kill you now.”

“And you really expect me to believe you’re a senior officer? Even if these orders are legit, there’s no way you’re the new Grand Admiral,” the other man said as they had this conversation in voice only, with both of them hidden behind cargo crates.

“What it doesn’t say in the orders is why the Emperor chose me. I’m not an Imperial officer. Imperial officers have failed the Emperor over and over again. I’m one of the last remaining Keeno who beat the Empire in battle after battle. I know your weaknesses and how to overcome them. The Emperor made a deal with me, and it’s my job to get this mess of a Frontier in order. Sometimes that means I’m on the bridge of my flagship, sometimes it means I go head first into the ground operations. Either way, I’m not intimated by you, nor do I need you alive. But I have no wish to waste valuable personnel over orders that were never properly transmitted to you. You’ve probably fought and killed some of my troops here, but I don’t care. You’ve received a copy of the Emperor’s orders now. Will you obey them or not?”

“We are loyal to the Emperor,” the man said stiffly, as if that fact being questioned was enough to shoot somebody over.

“Then you are now under my command. Do you accept this?”

“If you really are the Grand Admiral. And if you’re really a Keeno you won’t mind stepping into the clear so we can see you. We couldn’t stop you anyway. But if you are an imposter we’ll know shortly.”

“Shoot me and my men will gun you all down,” Aatroxiss warned.

“What are you afraid of then, Keeno? You’ve killed plenty of us before. Why hesitate now?”

Aatroxiss held up a ‘wait’ hand to Hacking and his troopers, who were clenching their rifles tightly, still expecting a fight. He walked around the crate casually, with his helmet half held in one hand along with his pistol, leaving his other free and similarly armed as he came into view, with both weapons pointed at the floor.

His opposition, however, was pointing theirs at him. Some 9 of them that he could see, all hidden behind turned over tables and a few smaller crates scattered amongst larger ones. They had a lot of cover that his men did not, as well as a detonation charge in the center that would destroy this entire room if they triggered it.

And the man standing next to it was the one who was talking.

“You’re a man, just like I thought. How stupid do you think we…” he said, cutting off as the detonation charge the size of a suitcase flew through the air, passed by Aatroxiss, and curved behind the crate wall so nobody could get a shot at it.

“Is that proof enough?” Aatroxiss asked.

“You’re a man.”

“A few of us were. The Order just didn’t advertise that fact,” he said, seeing the holodisk setting on a table nearby still on and displaying the list of the Emperor’s orders. “Now, does my face match the record?”

“It could be faked,” another man said, still pointing his rifle at Aatroxiss along with the others, though a few had eased up a bit on their aiming.

“The codes are legit,” their commander differed.

“I meant his face. The orders don’t say anything about him being a Keeno!”

“If I was your enemy I would have already killed you,” he said, looking at the not-panicking man, though he was clearly still in a state of denial. He looked around at all the faces, none of them in armor save for two, and those only had the boots and pants on. Above the waist they just wore long-sleeve shirts that appeared rather dirty. “I will ignore past actions given the fact that you had not received transmission of the Emperor’s orders and that you’d been lied to by Gorgo and others. There will be no punishment if you accept my authority now. But this entire facility is a disgrace, like most of the Frontier. Not only is it in violation of numerous Imperial laws, the ‘work’ being conducted here is dishonorable. Going forward I expect my troops…all of them…to not simply follow orders but to gain some shred of honor that your Imperial training scraped you bare of. Chain of command is necessary for rookies, but veterans…and especially special teams…I expect more of.”

“What would you have had us do? All the orders we received appeared legit.”

“Evil likes to wedge you into situations that appear to have no honorable outcome other than death. It’s incumbent upon you to look for, or create other alternatives.”

“Are you saying we should have gone AWOL and joined the rebellion?” a woman asked, covered in dirty clothing and a crusted, bloody scar across her face.

“Not the rebellion. They are without honor. But if you are special teams you’ve been trained to disappear. You should have done so rather than take part in what was happening here. Even if you have no love for aliens, they were carving up fellow Vixot.”

Their commander winced when he said that, and Aatroxiss knew he hadn’t been in favor of this assignment. “Orders are orders,” he said after a quick recovery.

“And because you believe that, you were able to be deceived into following a traitor’s orders and fighting against loyal Imperial troopers who were here to oust that traitor. If I wasn’t a Keeno you’d be executed for that. But I happened to like giving people a chance at redemption. So I’m creating an option for you that is honorable.”

“We didn’t know,” the man in denial said, finally lowering his rifle. “We were told they were rebel forces masquerading as our own.”

“And you believed that the entire time?” Aatroxiss said, scoffing. “Did they fight like rebels, or did they fight like Imperials? If you blindly trust your chain of command it can be used by the enemy against you, just like it was here. My first order to you is this…never be so naïve again. Learn from your mistake and teach others not to make it. My second, is that I want a full report of everything you know that went on here. This system was not even on Imperial maps. I had to discover it by other means. Gorgo hid it from the Empire, and I want to know every dirty secret he had here.”

“Stand down,” the leader said, with the rest of them lowering their weapons. “We surrender, Grand Admiral.”

“No,” Aatroxiss said, shaking his head. “I said there would be no recriminations. You are not prisoners, you Imperials under my command. Keep your weapons. As of this moment you are now part of this occupation force…unless you would prefer to be prisoners?”

“No, sir,” the leader said, standing straight and saluting across his chest. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Now,” Aatroxiss said, waving Hacking forward into view. “This is General Hacking. He’s in charge of all ground forces for the duration of this operation. I need you to answer to him. He will debrief you, get you cleaned up, and evaluated. We’ve already found some augments that are borderline insane, and we have to make sure you haven’t been altered as well.”

“Not us,” the leader said. “We were brought here to help train them between missions. Normally we’re deployed on other planets.”

“How many more of you are there?” Hacking asked.

“This is all of my team, but there are other holdouts in the tunnels. Administrator Dena is one of them.”

“Who is that?” Aatroxiss asked, not recognizing the name from Corva’s report.

“She runs this planet. There are also several top scientists with her. We kept them away from the…attacking forces and grabbed a few other key personnel while Team 18 provided a diversion. Our orders were to keep her alive.”

“Why isn’t she here with you then?”

“She didn’t like how we smell,” another man said.

“She’s in a VIP bunker,” the leader countered. “There are several of them.”

“We had a report of a few survivors killing Vixot in the paddock, stealing their clothes, and running off to hide amidst that population. Are they yours?”

“That would probably be Nathen Ursa,” he said, citing another name Aatroxiss didn’t remember. “He was visiting here when your first fleet arrived and got caught. He was having an ocular implant done.”

“Should I know who that is?”

“He’s the Governor,” Hacking said before anyone else could, “of Prahda.”

Aatroxiss frowned. Prahda was a Ludon world on the other side of the galaxy. “Why would he be here?”

“Because the procedure uses alien parts and such biological crossing is banned in the civilized Empire.”

“What kind of implant is it?”

“The kind that allows him to see in near dark. He had his personal guard outfitted earlier, then came out here himself to get the upgrade. He refused to stay put where we had him, and since our orders didn’t cover him, we just let him roam on his own. I’m surprised he’s survived this long.”

“And what is your team doing here at the moment?”

“Trying to wait out your occupation. We thought you would have left a long time ago. We didn’t know you’d be bringing reinforcements. The fighting is long over.”

“This is a rescue mission for all the captives here, Vixot and alien, before they starved to death,” he said, pinning his second pistol in his armpit before reaching out a hand. The holodisk, still on, flew through the air and into his palm. He clicked it off and put it back into his narrow neck pouch with the special team staring in awe. “My way of running the Frontier is very different from Imperial norms, and it has to be in order to give the Emperor the success he wants. Saving the test subjects and returning as many as we can to their original planets is part of that strategy. Now, I need you to lead us to every bunker, tunnel, and storage depot not on the map on this planet.”

“It’s an extensive network, Grand Admiral. Whoever designed this place was paranoid about an attack.”

“Never the less, I need it fully under my control now. Are any of your men wounded.”

“Only the two you shot. The rest just have scratches.”

“They’re stunned,” he said, a flicker of relief on the leader’s face. “What is this unit officially called?’

“Team 83, though none of us exist in Imperial records. We’re known only to the Emperor.”

“And why did he send you out here?”

“We were attached to High Admiral Mubarak to scout the Slicari threat. We then got transferred around to multiple assignments before ending up in Gorgo’s command.”

“Transferred by whom?”

“Mubarak. The Emperor attached us to his command until recalled. We never got a recall order and we’ve been out here for the past 11 years.”

“And he assigned you to Gorgo?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What of the other team that was here?”

“All dead save for two, and they’re with the Administrator.”

“Were they assigned to recon the Slicari as well?”

“We don’t know. We’re not supposed to ask questions of one another. Having two teams in the same place is rare anyway. When the attack came, our task was protecting the Administrator. I don’t know what the other Team’s orders were.”

“You said they were Team 18?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did they answer to Mubarak?”

“I have no idea. We never exchanged anything more than nods when passing each other.”

“Then it is my assumption…actually, what is your name?”

“Commander Ensinne.”

“Then it is my assumption, Commander Ensinne, that your team has been AWOL for quite some time and you never knew it. Mubarak never informed me of your existence, and the Emperor lost track of you some time ago. He assumed you were dead. You see, I have knowledge of everything in the Frontier, and he recalled all the special teams he had. Now, I can send you back to him if you wish. But after you’ve been unknowingly serving renegades, you may just end up being executed. Or…you can choose to remain in the Frontier under my command. Since your unit stayed in the Frontier in defiance of his general pullback order, I am authorized to deal with you however I wish.”

“We’re not traitors, Grand Admiral.”

“Perhaps not, but will the Teams Coordinator view it that way?” he said, referencing a position that normal troopers had never heard of before, nor were allowed to. That alone made everyone bristle.

“I see your point, sir. We’ve been contaminated. Will you be addressing this matter with Mubarak?”

“In time I will be addressing many things with him, but I have other priorities at the moment. You can take your chances back home, or you can enter immediate service here. Your choice.”

Ensinne exchanged a few glances with his men, then nodded. “Thank you, Grand Admiral. We joined up to protect the Empire. We’d like a chance for payback, sir. We never intended to go rogue.”

“I thought not. But be aware that High Command is going to view everyone in the Frontier as tainted from this point on. They do not like my appointment, and I’m having to deal directly with the Emperor for supplies and personnel transfers. If you choose to stay here, you will answer to me from now on. Not the Teams Coordinator.”

“Will you explain to the Emperor what’s happened? That we’re not disloyal?”

“I can do better than that, Commander. I have a number of his observers within my Fleet so he can keep tabs on what I’m doing. You can give them a full report and it will make its way to him. I will also inform them that I am claiming you for my Frontier operations. Will that be satisfactory?”

“Yes, Grand Admiral. And thank you, sir.”

“You’ll find that Keeno are far more fair and loyal than your standard Imperial officers. We operate on trust, not backstabbing. You were backstabbed here, Commander. I welcome you back into proper Imperial service. Now, General Hacking. I want one or two of them to act as scouts. The rest I want cleaned up, patched up, and debriefed. Everything from when they were sent to recon the Slicari up until now…and Commander, I’m authorizing full security clearance disclosure for General Hacking. He’ll make sure the information you give doesn’t end up in the wrong place. But I need as many little details as you can remember about everything. The Frontier is a big corrupt mystery right now, and I need as much data as I can get to start sorting it out.”

“That will take sulos to cover everything, sir.”

“Then take sulos.”

“Sir, our mission…even if it was illicit…was to protect the Administrator. May we be allowed to bring her in? I’d rather not leave loose ends.”

“I’m going to bring her in myself, Commander. You can accompany me if you wish,” he said, looking at Hacking. “A map, please.”

The General toggled something on his right forearm and his command armor produced a map of the surface and the tunnel network below that they’d charted thus far.

“Show me where she is,” Aatroxiss said, with Ensinne walking forward and pointing his finger into a blank spot on the far side of the settlement.

10

“How bad?” Aatroxiss asked into his helmet comlink as he walked through more shielded tunnels with the trail of comm beacons keeping him linked to the surface transmitters.

“She’s stable and on the mend, but her lungs took considerable damage,” Mahansey’s tiny image said in his helmet HUD. “She’s unconscious and the medics are keeping her that way for now. She should make a full recovery in time. Three of our troopers were not so fortunate. Their helmets were either cracked or knocked off in the blast and the toxic fumes killed them before we could pull them out. Some crew in the nearby area also took in a lungful, but none of them are as bad as Chief Trigati.”

“What’s the status of the Fleet?”

“Three ships awol, another four damaged enough to be considered partially combat capable. Not counting the crews on the AWOL ships, we lost 739 with another 128 injured in total for this embarrassment, and another 8 of our warships are suspect. They didn’t flee, but they didn’t assist in our defense or even inquire as to what to do. They were bystanders. What do you want me to do with them?”

“Nothing at the moment. I’ll see to those Captains personally. Are any of the support ships damaged?”

“Thankfully, no. They stayed put the entire engagement.”

“Any surface drops or other activity?”

“None. They wanted this ship destroyed or captured. I’m surprised they didn’t strike you on the surface.”

“I hadn’t expected saboteurs,” Aatroxiss admitted. “Let alone that many. Have you discovered how they were communicating?”

“CYSO has been working on that. Nothing as of yet, but when the Chief made the first arrest they all new almost instantaneously.”

“Find that line of communication. It’s a weakness in our security that could be used again.”

“I don’t suppose you’d allow for aggressive interrogation of the two prisoners?”

“Negative, Captain. We don’t abandon scruples in exchange for results. And we’d have to verify whatever they told us regardless, then search to make sure there wasn’t anything else in play. Even if one voluntarily told us what was happening, we’d still have to search, so let’s not waste time. I transferred these people onto the Redemption for training purposes, but they should have arrived with nothing more than a personal satchel, and those are always scanned, correct?”

“They’re supposed to be.”

“CYSO should have those scans on record. Start there. If they didn’t bring contraband onboard, then they got it another way. Run every loose end down, Captain. I want my flagship secure again.”

“As do I, Grand Admiral. Is there anything you require on the surface?”

“Get a shuttle ready for prisoner transfer…actually, Captain, I have an idea. Expect some help coming back up on the shuttle as well.”

“We’re going to have cell block issues again by the time we drag in everyone involved,” Mahansey warned.

“Well, the prisoners I’m sending you stay on the Redemption. Find one of the transports and start converting it into a makeshift prison.”

“Not our cargo bay this time?”

“Do we have one empty?”

“Not yet, no. Shall I resume cargo transfer or hold everyone onboard until we run down this problem?”

“There should be enough supplies on planet to feed the population for days, so no, don’t resume. And have the shuttles coming down to the surface flown by the starfighter pilots.”

“May I ask why?”

“They’re less likely to be involved in smuggling cargo to and from the ship.”

“Understood. I’ll have that shuttle down momentarily. Main pad?”

“Yes. I’ll check back in later,” he said, signing off then switching his private comm channel to the one he reserved for Hacking, but it was audio only. There was no point in putting a camera inside a helmet to show a close view of his face, and likewise Hacking couldn’t see him either.

“General, we’ve got a security problem on the Redemption. Are special teams rated for digging out moles?”

“They don’t officially exist, but that’s consistent with their reputation.”

“Define ‘officially.’”

“We were taught they exist, but that no data on them does. We’re to let them carry out their mission without interference once we’ve verified their presence. It’s said they answer directly to the Emperor and they don’t want anyone knowing who they are or what they’re up to. That’s why they only use numbers for identification, and those numbers are never listed in a database. If we work with a special team, we’re not to record their existence in any records.”

“How do you handle logistics?”

“The senior officer orders the necessary supplies and logs it as something else so the numbers balance. The Emperor doesn’t want analysts to be able to track their movements after the fact. At least, that’s what we were told.”

“By whom?”

“It’s in the promotion training for Colonels and above, and for any officer serving as a ship or facility commander. It’s written as a Classified Standing Order.”

Aatroxiss added a channel to the conversation. “Commander Ensinne?”

“Here, sir,” he answered from well behind him in the line of troopers. He and the others had been allowed to don their combat gear and were now tied into the comm traffic of Aatroxiss’s assault group.

“What do you know of a mutiny in the orbiting fleet?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“I just had a number of ships attack my flagship after a botched attempt to disable it, and it is believed they were coordinating with the surface in some fashion.”

“Hans…” he murmured, more to himself than for the Admiral’s ears. “Sir, it might be the remnants of the other Team. We’ve had no contact with them and pretty much stayed out of each other’s way, but we did record some sloppy comm traffic between the ships in orbit and someone on the ground using non-standard channels. It was a ghost transmitter, always moved around. We tried to track it down out of curiosity but never could. I assumed it was Hans, one of the two remaining members of Team 18.”

“You know him personally?”

“Yeah, I do. Otherwise he’d just be a random face. We’re not allowed to share our personnel roster with anyone, even other Teams. He went through training the same time I did, and frankly, he’s a psychopath. Chain of command is the only thing that keeps him in line, otherwise he’d been blowing drek up for the fun of it. He also knows how to ghost transmissions.”

“I’m unfamiliar with that term, Commander.”

“It’s what we call disguising or otherwise making it hard for someone to track our comms. We use encryption, alternate frequencies, line of sight transmitters, or just move around the transmitters so they’re not in a predictable place. He’s probably the only one who could hide it from us, so I assumed it was him or the other one.”

“What do you think are the odds that he’ll follow orders and stand down?”

“No clue, sir. I haven’t seen him in more than 20 years save for here, and we didn’t speak to one another. Perhaps you’d best let my team go in first, Admiral.”

“Negative. I can handle this,” he said, knowing that General Hacking had split up Team 83 so none of them were in line together. A security precaution against them possibly turning on them, and with only three in this group it seemed unlikely. The rest were being sent elsewhere individually to assist in the mapping and sweeps of the underground tunnels, save for the wounded, who were taken up to the surface and waiting outside the bioweapons lab for pickup.

Aatroxiss continued walking head of the line until he got near the location Ensinne had given him. It was a spur tunnel that was actually a ‘U’ that intersected the main tunnel in two spots. At the bottom of the ‘U’ was the entrance to the VIP bunker. He could see people inside it, 9 in total.

Ensinne had told him there were no security cameras in the tunnels, nor motion sensors or any other type of surveillance due to the design. If a central control hub was taken by the enemy then they could spot anyone else in the tunnels. But by keeping them unmonitored, it would allow survivors from an attack to hide and evade the enemy. So when he approached the door to the bunker there was no camera outside it to see him.

He opened the door…an odd swinging one that pushed in…and walked into a brightly lit and wide entrance chamber with a number of dirty boots and uniforms on hooks and racks. It was laughably a mudroom to keep dirt out.

Aatroxiss shook his head at that, as well as the decorations scrolled into the walls, ceiling, and floor. When he passed through the second door the area ahead of him widened even further, feeling like a luxury apartment on Kruko rather than a bunker.

Troopers spilled out behind him into a foyer that had stairs going up and down, showing three different levels of the bunker. Aatroxiss held out two fingers to his left, then pointed down. Three to his right, pointing up. And then four, pointing ahead at this level.

“Simultaneously or in series?” Hacking’s voice asked in his helmet speaker.

“Guard the stairs and prevent them from moving. When I’m in position on the center group, move on the other two, stun weapons only. Ensinne is with my group.”

Hacking gave some specific orders over the general command frequency and the yellow-clad troopers split up with the black-clad special teams members going one with each group. Ensinne stayed a step behind Aatroxiss as he walked down a short hallway and stood before a wide double door that was shut, but it had windows. Small artistic ones that looked like slash marks, and he made sure to stay to the side of them.

He gave the other teams time to get in position, then Hacking reported them ready from the left and lower level group.

“Go,” Aatroxiss whispered into his comm, pushing open the left door and sliding through into a lounge with three people sitting at a table. One turned to see who was at the door and froze so hard she dropped her drink.

He ignored them, knowing there was one more person in here as his troopers moved forward and held the three at gunpoint. The Grand Admiral moved to the right and into another chamber, then through it to another, finally finding a man coming out of the refresher attached to a private bedroom.

To his credit the man reacted instantly, diving forward and into the yellow armor over Aatroxiss’s chest and snaking his arms up around his helmet, either to throw him to the ground or try to snap his neck. Trooper helmets were made to prevent that, so he’d have to pop it off first.

He never got the chance to as Aatroxiss rotated around so fast he used part of the man’s momentum to throw him towards his own troopers following in his wake…who stunned him unconscious with a few well placed shots.

Though he noticed two missed and sizzled the plush carpet with static electricity.

“That’s Hans,” Ensinne said, catching up from behind. “Make sure you cuff him. We have implants to siphon off stun energy. He’ll be awake before you know it.”

“Biological or technological implants?” Aatroxiss asked as one of the troopers pulled out a pair of flexi-cuffs from his pack as the others suddenly kept their weapons trained on the man they’d thought was no longer a threat.

“Technological,” he said, hesitating because of how many troopers were around. Such things were not meant for their ears.

He heard an all clear from the topside team, then Hacking added a similar report from the ones below. “All nine accounted for, Admiral. Shall we sweep for more?”

“If they were alive I’d see them. Bring everyone to the lounge on the main level, then sweep for other interesting stuff,” he said, then pulled his helmet off. “Bring him.”

It didn’t take long for the troopers to pull one more unconscious body into the main area, though he was completely naked. A female came with him, wrapped in a robe and scared into a state of ugliness, but it wasn’t the Administrator. She’d been on the upper level and was brought down wearing a pristine red/yellow uniform decorated with ostentatious glittering metal trim.

“Finally!” she said, a mix of frustration and relief. “I thought I’d be stuck here forever! Who is in command?” she demanded, making it clear that she was and wanted to know who the unit leader was.

Aatroxiss, still wearing armor but with his helmet off, looked at her oddly. “This isn’t a rescue, princess.”

“What was that?” she said, glaring at him, and then his trim mohawk that was a violation of Imperial Regs. “You are out of order, trooper. Is this your unit?”

When he just stared at her she glanced over at Ensinne, who also had his helmet off and resting on his left hip. “Deal with this insubordinate immediately, Commander. I will not tolerate his tone or his hair. What ship are they from? I want the unit leader disciplined as well.”

“Is this her?” Aatroxiss asked Ensinne, which seemed to tick her off even more for him actually daring to speak without permission.

“It is.”

“Well then, Commander…”

“Enough!” she yelled at the top of her lungs to try and make him back down and be silent, but he ignored her.

“…your mission to protect here is hereby ended. I am taking custody of her. Confirm?”

“Confirmed, sir.”

“Silence!” she bellowed, but Aatroxiss merely walked up to her arrogant face and punched her across it so fast it spun her to the ground and broke her nose. She didn’t look up for several moments, shocked into a stupor as her blood began to pool on the spotless white carpet.

“I am Grand Admiral Aatroxiss, and the Emperor has given me command of the Frontier and the responsibility for cleaning up the mess you’ve made of it. You should be thankful that I don’t execute prisoners, because you deserve to die for what you’ve done to the people here.”

Her eyes widened, suddenly realizing she wasn’t being rescued, and looked accusingly at Ensinne.

“What have you done!”

“I’m following orders, Administrator. The Grand Admiral has command of my Team now.”

She turned back to look up at Aatroxiss. “You monster. You’re destroying everything we’ve built here, you…” she said, stopping as the air was knocked out of her lungs as she was picked up in an invisible grip and flung against the nearby wall.

She hit there, hard, and was pinned against it, her feet well off the floor and dangling as her nose continued to drench her in purple/black blood.

“After everything you’ve done, you do not get to call other people monsters,” he said, letting his anger show, not just for the benefit of those watching, but because he was sick of keeping it bottled up inside. He pulled out one of his pistols from the clip on his left thigh and shot her three times with stun blasts, then threw her body back across the room and onto the carpet in front of two troopers.

“Get that piece of trash to the surface and into a cell on the Redemption,” he almost shouted, but kept his voice under far better control than she had.

“You heard the Admiral,” Hacking jumped in when the troopers were slow to move. “Carry her out.”

Aatroxiss sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as one grabbed her shoulders and the other her feet and began heading for the door as the rest parted to make way, with her the Administrator’s unconscious body dripping a trail of blood as they went.

“And…” he added a moment later, “make sure she doesn’t bleed out before you get her there.”

Hacking silently ordered another trooper with a medkit to attend to her, but did it over comms as she was hauled out of the room, leaving him to deal with the other 8 people here.

“Is one of these Ursa?”

“No,” Ensinne said, walking up beside him. “These are all scientists working here.”

“Incorrect,” Aatroxiss said, but he wasn’t looking at the special teams operator. “These are not scientists. Scientists do not torture, butcher, or otherwise harm test subjects. Scientists are intelligent people who find honorable ways of probing the mysteries of the universe. No, these are not scientists. They’re barbarians who are either too dumb to find a way to do proper research, or butchers who don’t care about science and all they want are body parts to sell to others or victims to mutilate for their twisted pleasure.”

He looked back at Ensinne. “Scientists are honorable and respectable, this trash is neither. Do not refer to them as scientists again. The most generous you could be is to call them technicians. General, take this trash to the Redemption as well.”

This time the troopers snapped into action immediately.

“Cuff him too,” Ensinne said, indicating the naked man. “He’s also special teams.”

“Commander,” Aatroxiss said as the room started to quickly clear. “I need a favor.”

“Whatever you want, sir.”

“The type of things that were taking place here are wrong, dishonorable, and one of many reasons why the Empire deserves to be ground into dust,” he said, drawing a blink from the man. “I will not tolerate such low standards for the Empire. It must become worthy of rule, and if you ever find anyone ever doing anything like this again, you will do your best to put a stop to it. Is that clear?”

“As you order, Admiral.”

“No, Commander. This is not an order. It’s an instruction. If you ever encounter this and orders permit it, you are to defy your orders and stop it anyway. The chain of command is not justification for the Empire to exist. The Empire must be measured against external metrics. Honor, justice, truthfulness…these things cannot be redefined by an order. These are universal constants. You must learn to calibrate yourselves to them and not orders. This stuff will be banned in the Frontier going forward, but if you find a situation where it’s not banned, you should stop it anyway, because it’s dishonorable. I need you to retrain your own brain out of the chain of command, and I know that will take time. So work on it. The favor I need from you is something else.”

“Yes, sir,” Ensinne said, more than a little confused at the moment.

“I have a security breach onboard my flagship. Saboteurs were coordinating with each other by some means we have not been able to locate yet. I want you to get up there and have a look around. Find out how they were communicating. No interrogations or any dishonorable behavior. Just investigate and help plug this leak. I know you need to get cleaned up and attend to your Team, but I need this taken care of yesterday and my Chief of Cyber Operations is wounded and out of action.”

“Not a problem, sir. Counter-intelligence is one of our specialties…but, if I may speak freely, sir?”

“Always, Commander. I prefer blunt truth to polite lies.”

“Yes, sir. If you give me orders I will follow them faithfully, but when you refer to honor I do not know how to quantify that.”

“Do you need to be explained what it means to protect the Empire?”

“No, sir.”

“Then consider honor a duty to protect everyone in the universe, whether they are part of the Empire or not. After that,” he said, poking the man in his armored chest, “your conscience should start to guide you the rest of the way. A conscience that Imperial training taught you to ignore and bury. Unbury it, Commander. That is an order.”

“And what if, if I may, sir…what if my conscience differs from an order you have given?”

“Then it either wasn’t truly ordered by me, or I made a rare mistake. Once you learn to listen to your conscience and have a good read on it, it takes priority to my orders…because my orders are always calibrated to my conscience, Commander.”

“I’ll do my best, sir. But it conflicts with our training.”

“I know. I have to retrain everyone in the Frontier. The Empire has failed you and many others. I will not. But change takes time and I have little of it, so those who can change quickly are going to rise through the ranks the fastest. I just hope its fast enough before we lose millions of people to more insanity like what’s been going on here.”

“Because you want us to protect everyone, Admiral?”

Aatroxiss clapped him on the shoulder. “There, you’re learning already. General, get him up to the Redemption with the prisoners. Then continue sweeping the tunnels in case anyone else made their way down here. In the meantime, I’ve got more horror records to pilfer through to figure out everything Gorgo was doing here. Keep me updated.”

“Yes, Admiral. This way, Commander,” Hacking said, leading him out of the lounge with the rest of the troopers. Aatroxiss stood there alone, looking around at the luxury accommodations now marred by the track of blood from the Administrator.

Had he come here on his own hunting her down, he would have killed her the moment he saw her and not bothered with taking prisoners. He had no illusions about her being redeemed. Not after the partial list of atrocities that he’d already read through. But now that she was a prisoner that was not an option.

So far his prison was only a level 1 facility. He’d need to expand to level 2 to deal with her, for even if she went through the appropriate training he was never letting her out. But that’s not what a level 1 prison was for. He needed a prison colony that she could earn her way to, still in isolation, but more than a small set of quarters to live out her life in. Without incentives his system wouldn’t function, and he was not just going to dump people in a box and let them rot to death.

But even once she got to his existing prison, it would be a long time before she could earn her way out. Still, a prison colony wasn’t something you created overnight, and it was yet another construction project he had to get moving along without the necessary supplies for it to be constructed quickly. Outpost #2 would hopefully start filling in that gap soon, along with #3 and #4 in the next year. The supply shipments from the Empire were enough to get started, but not enough to aggressively expand his new infrastructure.

He needed to make use of this planet somehow rather than just evacuating everybody and blowing it to bits. At the moment he wasn’t sure how to do that, and he wasn’t sure what was all here yet either. He had a lot more digging to do, not to mention see to the care of the paddock denizens which was yet one more supply burden on his logistics network. But at the moment he could still cover it, and going forward that supply base should gradually expand.

But how many more of these types of nightmares Gorgo’s little empire contained…well, he hoped not many, but he wouldn’t be wagering any guilder on that hope.

11

Illana woke up sleepily, not realizing where she was. That happened occasionally when she had a vivid dream or was really conked out, but soon the feel of her bed and the view of her room reminded her of reality. She rolled over and slid her legs out from under the covers, finding them bare.

She glanced down at her chest, pulling the covers off slightly. She was naked, and she never slept naked. Illana glanced around and jerked when she saw someone sitting casually on the other side of the bed in full uniform.

“What are you doing in my quarters?” she asked, still trying to get her brain working again.

“You invited me.”

“I did?” she said, trying to remember.

“Yes. I finally succumbed to your charms, and must say I didn’t realize what I was missing out on.”

“You…we…” she stammered, looking around and finding no answers until she saw the smirk on his face. “You’re lying.”

“Yes I am. You’ve been unconscious for 3 sulos. You took in some toxins that messed up your lungs. Remember?”

“No,” she said, standing up experimentally but not feeling sore or stiff at all. She walked over to her dresser, seeing it not there and just a hole in the wall. A glance to her left found where it had been moved and suddenly the memories started flooding back.

She grabbed some clothes and started pulling them on while Aatroxiss waited.

“You healed me?”

“You were already recovering in medbay, but when I got back to the ship I sped up the process and brought you back here.”

“Why am I naked?”

“The medics did that. I assume your clothes were contaminated.”

“You carried me through the halls like this?” she said, pulling on a shirt.

“No, they had you in sterilization robes. I kept them on you until I got you here, then I sent them back.”

“So you stripped me down?”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Next time make sure I’m awake when you do it,” she said, pulling on pants as she gave him a seductive smile. “How bad was the ship hurt?”

“Not much, just the area where your rabbit suicided. While you were out 7 of our ships attacked and 3 more went awol,” he said, her eyes going wide. “We lost a lot of crew on those ships, but the attacking ones were disabled and boarded. The other three got away.”

“Senthrik,” she said, using a rare curse word that he’d never heard her use before. “They had all this planned.”

“It seems so. I recovered a special teams unit from the planet and they’ve discovered a second communications system within this ship. Custom stuff all added by hand, but still effective.”

“In my ship?” she said angrily.

“Yes, right under your nose…except it wasn’t visible and hidden in crawlspaces with mostly landlines to stay undetectable. They picked up a number of suspects that didn’t flee and are working on the other ships in the Fleet. It seems Gorgo’s people are everywhere and they’re not standing down because of his death. I've also learned there was a lot more than Gorgo at work here, and we captured an Administrator Dena who was hiding in tunnels beneath the colony. The special team was ordered to protect her, but when I showed them that they’d been kept here against the Emperor’s withdraw order, they fell in line pretty quick.

“And you’re using them to secure our ships?”

“Your people are pretty much helpless without you holding their hand, plus it’s one of the things this Team was trained for. I still want you doublechecking their work.”

Illana pulled her second boot on and was finally properly dressed. “Fek right I’m double checking them. Did you find the source of the poison?”

Aatroxiss nodded. “Big bioweapons lab with a lot more options than the one they chose.”

“How were they communicating with the surface?” she said, walking over to stand next to him as he stood up next to her bed.

“Line of sight transmitters. They somehow installed some on the hull without us knowing.”

“That would require a spacewalk and an open airlock,” she said angrily. “I would have seen it unless they rigged the ship’s internal sensors.”

“They did. We’ve got a lot to clean up here, but Team 83 is convinced they got all the functioning pieces. And while I don’t like this situation any more than you do, I think you should copy their idea and start creating a second communications and sensor system that doesn’t run through the main computer. The saboteurs knew where everything was that they had to avoid and disable. A second system unknown to them would probably alert you in the future to similar attempts at such a widespread conspiracy.”

“Sorry I messed this up so bad,” she said sincerely.

“You’re not a rookie anymore, but you’re still far behind a lot of people who have been playing this game for a very long time. Every loss is an opportunity to learn and improve. I never expected CYSO or you to be the best of the best right from the start.”

“Still, this sort of thing is my job and I didn’t do it good enough. What happened to my people on the other ships?”

Aatroxiss frowned. “Most were killed. A few managed to survive. As for the three ships that fled, I have no idea.”

Illana sat down and buried her head in her hands. “Drek.”

“Sometimes the enemy wins battles. It doesn’t mean the war is over.”

“Those people were my responsibility.”

“To a point. Everyone in this Fleet is my responsibility.”

“You don’t sound very angry.”

“I’ve had time to process. You just woke up.”

“Do you have an objection to CYSO adding some security to our lairs?”

“As in what?”

“Turning them into armed bunkers? I don’t want to send people out to other ships if they’re sitting syroks.”

“Even if they had bunkers, they could wait them out and starve them to death,” Aatroxiss said, his tone full of regret. “But if it helps any, they took their shot to destroy this ship and failed spectacularly. You and Mahansey get credit for that. And anyone else thinking about attempting the same is probably not going to try. Their failure here will help protect your people by serving as a deterrent.”

“What about the ones that left?”

“There aren’t many places they can run to that can resupply a warship. We’ll find out where they went and shut them down. There’s never any safe place where nothing can go wrong, and I’ve been withholding CYSO units from ships that I haven’t dealt with personally yet. All those Captains seemed legit or were the second officers that inherited command when I removed their former Captains. I thought that would be enough. That was my mistake. I also thought with Gorgo gone they’d fall into line. I didn’t realize he was part of a network of rogues. The High Admirals have not just been negligent, they’ve been involved to some extent. Mubarak transferred Team 83 to Gorgo, and that’s not why the Emperor sent them out here. They were sent to gather information on the Slicari.”

“Mubarak pulled them off it?”

“No, they completed their mission then he reassigned them without authorization. They never got the Emperor’s recall order. There was another special team here, but they all died except for 2.”

“Which team?”

“Team 18. It appears they were working with Gorgo for other reasons, probably more nefarious, but I’m told the special teams don’t talk to one another, and the two prisoners I’ve got aren’t saying anything. Hacking’s troops killed the rest of them in combat while Team 83 hid out protecting the Administrator. We’ve also got a team of augments on the surface that may or may not be useful in the future. They seem loyal to the Empire, but their emotional state is messed up due to the grafts they’ve taken. Then I’ve got a bunch of other problems to deal with, but this is how this is going to work. We’re not going to win every battle, but we have to keep fighting in order to win the war and the mini wars.”

Illana finally looked up at him. “What’s a mini war?”

“Each crew member that died is a mini war lost. Each test subject we rescue and heal is a mini war won, or at least one we’re winning. It’s our job to protect and save everybody, but that’s not going to happen. Focus on winning the mini wars still in play and don’t spend too much time thinking about the ones lost. You need to learn from them, but don’t dwell on them.”

“You sound like you’ve made that mistake before?”

“Yes, and I learned from it. There’s no shortcut to experience, little one.”

She frowned at him using that term, but the spark of anger seemed to clear some of her mood.

“Right,” she agreed. “Is there anything you immediately need me to do?”

“Just start working the long list of problems we have. The battle is long over and things have settled down here. Start prepping for the next one.”

She stood up again, with him following an eye blink later. A casual example of his heightened reflexes. “Why don’t I feel any soreness? My lungs don’t even feel raw.”

“Keeno healing techniques are rather good. I saved you a dekka or two of slower recovery.”

“A perk of being on your staff, I guess,” she said with a forced smile.

“It is. Now would you like to get to work, or should I strip you down again?”

She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t tease.”

“Just checking where your head’s at right now.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, digging through a wall drawer and finding several spare ear bugs and comlinks. “And I’m going to make sure this never happens again.”

“Good girl,” he said, passing her on his way to the door. “And I’d suggest you get some pistol training in on the side if you plan on running down suspects personally.”

She glared at him. “How do you know about that?”

“I reviewed the security footage. If you’d backstepped while pulling your blaster, you could have shot her before she got to you. You stood still like an arrogant junior officer who thinks the universe isn’t allowed to do anything other than what he wants it to do.”

“I know how to use a pistol, thank you. I grew up in a mercenary unit.”

“But you’re not practicing. You need reflexes ready to use, and that only comes with experience. Try not to spend every hour staring into a computer screen, and make sure your people don’t pick up your bad habits. If you want your lairs to become strongholds, they have to be able to defend them. Incorporate some small arms training into your regimen. If nothing else it will break up the screen lock you guys sometimes get.”

“Noted,” she said, not wanting to agree but realizing he was probably more right than wrong. “And thanks. Were you able to save anyone else from the blast?”

He shook his head in the negative. “They were dead before I got the report. You were on the edge and had no helmet filter. The others nearby you did or were further away. You were the worst injured by far, and I can’t use the Kalla to bring the dead back to life.”

“Is this what it’s like being a Keeno leading wars?”

“No. Usually the troops I’m leading are very grateful for my help and are begging to learn as much as I can teach them. Taking control of an enemy force that doesn’t want me here…this is new for me too. I have had to deal with some malcontents before, but never saboteurs and mutineers.”

“Maybe you should hire my father. At least then you’d have some people you can trust.”

“That would cause even more problems with the Imperials. No, we have to do this from the inside. It’ll take time, but I’ll get this fixed. Every time someone shows their true colors its one less problem waiting to be discovered later.”

“There has to be a better way to vet the crews than waiting for them to mutiny.”

“There is, I’m just really busy and can’t get around to a lot of that right now. Not when we’ve got people to rescue. Oh, and all of the traitors on this ship were not officers. I’ve been vetting them the most, and it seems to have worked. From those I will create new Captains and eventually, through the Redemption, I will retool the Fleet. Flagships aren’t just command centers, they’re work experience and vetting installations. Ideally, there won’t be a Captain in the Fleet that hasn’t served under me on this ship. That provides a personal connection that even academy training can’t match.”

“There are thousands of warships in the Frontier,” she reminded him.

“That’s why it takes time.”

“If you say so,” she said, walking past him and out her door first, but he grabbed her by the arm to stop her from passing all the way through. “What?”

“Hair,” he said, with her frowning and walking back inside. She grabbed a hair tie and a brush, then fixed her unruly white mane into a smooth ponytail. By the time she was finished Aatroxiss was already gone and she headed out after him, her mind fixed on revenge. This was no longer an Imperial ship, it was her ship and these nubots that had messed things up so bad were true Imperials. Yellow Imperials. And she was going to get her revenge by locking this ship down so tight sabotage could never happen again.

Illana wasn’t sure how she was going to do it, but it had to be done. They wouldn’t make a mockery out of her again. And she wasn’t going to let any more assassination attempts against Aatroxiss happen aboard this ship no matter how powerful he was. This was her home now and she had a duty to get it in order.

And sometimes tragedy was the best teacher.

Her father had taught her that, but this was the first time she’d truly understood it. So as she headed for the CYSO lair and her ‘lost’ subordinates, she mentally began to piece together fixes, solutions, and even just ways to slow down future enemies from doing this again.

She wasn’t going to solve this fast, but the sooner she got working on it the sooner it would get done. And hopefully that would be before the next catastrophe blew up in her face again.

Aatroxiss left Illana alone for a while. He had ideas of his own to how deal with security flaws, but she needed to learn right now from failure and so did he. To that end he went to a conference room where every captain in the Fleet in this system was now sitting. All 27 of them were here while their first officers tended their ships and Team 83 was sweeping them three or four at a time, though not everyone held the rank of Captain. There were Commanders and Hexdras for the smaller ships, but all had the same responsibility for command and were assembled here as equals.

He entered the door at the end of the elongated hexagonal room that made it feel like a fat rectangle with a long table down the center. No one was at the heads of the table, and there were extra chairs that were not filled, but those Captains assembled here, mostly in yellow uniforms with a handful of green amongst them, did not look confident or content. Aatroxiss already had a reputation for removing Captains he didn’t approve of, and many of these had witnessed such removals on their own ships when they’d been elevated to the captain’s position when their former COs had been sent back to the Districts.

All eyes turned to him as he walked to the chair at the head of the table, sat down, and triggered a holographic display floating above three positions between them showing identical images so that no one would have to squint to try to make out details.

It was a list of Captains from the past…all of whom had been executed for failure of command.

It took a while for those assembled to realize what they were looking at, and the pallor in the room intensified rapidly.

“If I handled this command in traditional Imperial fashion, several of you would be added to this list,” Aatroxiss said evenly, his elbows on the table and his hands coming together to form a triangle just below his face as he glared at the assembled captains. “Be grateful I am not the Emperor or the High Command, but do not mistake my leadership style for one of weakness. Imperial protocol holds that when a ship of the Fleet comes under attack, nearby ships are obligated to assist. So I ask you, what happened?”

Silence reigned as no one wanted to speak, with Aatroxiss eyeing them individually. Some drifted their gaze lower, others coughed as a way to break eye contact, but no one wanted to answer.

“I’ll take your silence as an admission of guilt,” he finally said, turning his head slightly to the left. “Captain Kava?”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“You did not respond to help the flagship. Why not?”

“I was not on the bridge at the time, sir. When I arrived I ordered the Victor’s Charge to move into the engagement.”

“You are credited with saving a number of escape pods without having to be ordered to do so, and for this you will keep your command. But your destroyer is your responsibility whether you are on the bridge or not. If your crew fails in their responsibilities, it is due to you not properly managing them. You are not simply there to give them orders, you are to train them. When they are transferred off your ship at the end of their assignments, they should be superior in skills, knowledge, wisdom, and experience to when they arrived. So why do your senior staff not know to respond to a ship under attack?”

Kava cleared his throat. “I am told they were waiting for me to make the decision to engage.”

“Then your ship is not fit for combat duty, Captain. Those bridge officers that have command while you are sleeping or otherwise busy have to do more than keep your chair warm. They are in command of the ship until you return, and they must act like it.”

“I don’t disagree, Admiral.”

“But?”

Kava ran a finger over his short mustache nervously. “The betrayal of so many ships caught us off guard. Even in the Frontier, such things do not happen regularly.”

“And you didn’t know which side to back. You didn’t want to throw in with the flagship in case it would be defeated, and that would leave you in a horrible position afterwards,” the Grand Admiral stated the obvious.

“As I said, I was not there. As soon as I was I didn’t hesitate to get involved.”

“And yet your crew didn’t know to do the same.”

“No, sir,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Captain, you are hereby transferred to the Yarrow Helda,” he said, referring to the captured and now damaged cruiser that he had stopped from shooting some of the escape pods, “which shall henceforth be renamed as the Steadfast. The crew of that ship are either dead or being transferred elsewhere. You will have to start off from scratch, and this time you will train your crew and senior officers properly. You’ve been given preliminary training manuals for how I want the Frontier Fleet to operate, Captain. I suggest you pay closer attention to them this time. If you fail to produce a crew up to my standards, this will be your last command.”

“I won’t fail you, sir. Thank you for the promotion.”

“Not just yet, Captain. There is another matter we need to settle,” he said, keeping his tripod arm configuration throughout. “Do you understand the nature of my assignment in the Frontier?”

“I’ve heard rumors, sir, but nothing more than that.”

“War is coming, Captain. A war that the Emperor fears. I was sent here because no one in the High Command is capable of doing what needs to be done. The Emperor knows that as a former enemy I do not care about him, his commands, or the Imperial way of doing things. So I have no built-in restrictor field against making necessary changes. Furthermore, he has ceded the Frontier and all its assets, military and civilian, to me in exchange for my turning the Frontier into a barrier against invasion that will protect the rest of the Empire. In order to do so the Frontier Fleet will no longer be a standard Imperial Fleet. If you wish to remain in the standard Fleet following standard protocol, I need to know now, and I will transfer you back there. If you remain, your loyalty has to be to the Frontier, not to the High Command or even to the Emperor.”

That last caveat caused a stirring, but Aatroxiss’s gaze didn’t waver.

“I don’t think the concept should be very hard to understand considering many of you were loyal to Gorgo, someone who was defying the Emperor and carving out his own smaller empire out here. What I’m doing is actually on the orders of the Emperor, whom I will remind you views you all as expendable. And he has chosen to expend you to me in order to keep the Slicari out of the Districts.”

“Slicari?” Captain Monsho asked, aghast. “They’re nowhere near the Districts.”

“Never the less, the Emperor has been watching them closely and is worried. He fears an invasion is coming eventually, and has put me here with ample time to fortify Imperial holdings before they have a chance to strike. And I will be doing it in my own way. The Imperial way has failed time and again, and the Emperor does not take failure lightly. So, Captain Kava. Do you wish to return to the Districts or stay to defend the Frontier in my Fleet?”

“I will stay, Grand Admiral.”

“Doing so will require you to retrain yourself to my standards.”

“I have already been studying the material you sent.”

“But failing to implement it amongst your crew.”

“I admit I made the mistake of not pushing the changes harder,” he said, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. “I will not make that mistake again.”

“I hope not. I will be transferring you a few officers from the Redemption that I have mild confidence in. The rest of the crew will be made up of fresh recruits coming out of the academy. Your ship will suffer from this initially, and until you get fully staffed you will be running a skeleton crew, but I want the Steadfast to live up to her new name and the higher duty that the green uniform signifies. Green is the color of the Frontier and of my Empire. The Emperor rules the Districts, I rule the Frontier and protect the Districts from the Slicari and others. The High Command and others hate this new paradigm, so you must now choose. Green or Yellow. And you must commit yourself to either choice. There is no option for a ‘wait and see’ mentality that had this flagship left alone on the battlefield.”

“Am I right in assuming,” Kava asked, “that there will be two promotion tracts that will not coexist?”

“Correct, Captain. If you choose Green now, you will spend the rest of your military career in the Frontier. I doubt the High Command would accept you as anything other than a pariah later.”

“And what of retirement? Will we be exiled here?”

Aatroxiss hesitated for a moment. “That depends on your read of the High Command. How vengeful do you think they will be at the Emperor undermining their authority in this way.”

“Are you saying you don’t answer to the High Command?” Captain Hiva interrupted.

“I am here on the Emperor’s authority. I answer to no one else. I thought his posted orders explained that?”

“But, our command structure is still linked with the High Command, is it not?”

“We share resources and personnel for the time being, and the Emperor has guaranteed me access to various resources, but the High Command’s authority ends at the Frontier. They cannot recall any of you, discipline any of you, nor promote. For practical purposes, you can consider me the High Command for the Frontier. We are both part of the Empire, but separate military branches.”

“I wish that had been explained earlier,” Captain Norret interjected. “Because I’ve been receiving coded orders from the High Command since you arrived.”

Aatroxiss frowned. “Explain.”

“Orders that stated you were untrustworthy and a potential security risk. The High Command wanted us to watch you closely and stick to existing protocol. They said not to implement your training programs amongst the crews, but to inform you that we had.”

Aatroxiss’s arms fell to the table as he sat up straighter. “The High Command doesn’t know about them, nor hardly anything else that has been happening out here. Even if word reached a system with an ImpCom link, the lag time would have prevented any such orders. When did you receive them?”

“Shortly after you delivered the first training program.”

“Then either the orders are fake,” Captain Kava stated, “or the High Command has people out here under cover. I can confirm Captain Norret’s statement. I also received similar orders, but didn’t fully follow them given their vagueness. They didn’t specify a clear chain of command.”

“Is this true of the rest of you?”

“Not the Veru Lia,” Commander Beltri said, referring to his frigate.

“Raise a hand if you have not received orders from the High Command since I have arrived,” Aatroxiss said, seeing all those Captains of capital ships and most of the destroyers keeping their hands down while the smaller vessels attested to no such interference.

“And not one of you sought to inform me of this?” he asked, waving down their hands. “Does an appointment by the Emperor himself not rank higher than the High Command’s dictates? Not one of you even asked for clarification.”

“This sort of thing is not uncommon,” Captain Norret explained. “High Command often gives orders to ships differing from what the Fleet Admiral might order, but in that case those Admirals are always lower in the chain of command than High Command. We assumed every military officer answered to them.”

“You assumed wrong. And furthermore, my agreement with the Emperor states that he will have no influence on the Frontier in any way. That includes High Command. I am to be given a free hand to operate, which means High Command or whoever is impersonating them, is violating the Emperor’s orders and trying to compromise this operation.”

Aatroxiss let that statement hang in the air a bit, with the added gravitas of the mutiny that had just occurred making them all think deeply for a moment before continuing.

While they reflected on the recent past Aatroxiss pulled out his comlink and thumbed it on in front of them all. “Captain Mahansey.”

“Here, Admiral,” he said after a moment’s delay.

“I’ve just been informed that High Command, or someone pretending to be High Command, has been getting orders to the ships in the Fleet that contradict some of mine. Investigate and track this back to its source.”

Everyone could hear the Captain’s growl over the comlink.

“On it,” he said before Aatroxiss put the comlink away.

“The Emperor knew the Frontier was a mess,” he said, returning his arms to the tripod stance, “and that High Command was unable to fix that mess. Perhaps they are also partially responsible for it, so I will make this a clear order. Anything the Emperor wants me to do he will order me personally and then I will pass it on to you. If an order from him comes any other way, assume it is illegitimate and inform me immediately. Also, any orders from High Command are automatically null and void, because High Command no longer has authority over any military assets in the Frontier. When a ship or officer crosses that line they belong to me and me alone. The Emperor guaranteed it. Does that clear up the ambiguity enough?”

“It does, Grand Admiral,” Norret answered.

“Now I put the question to all of you. Do you wish to serve in the Green Imperial Navy, or the Yellow Imperial Navy. If I send you back now in disgrace the High Command might even give you a medal for defying me, so you may still have a career there, but the more changes I make in the Frontier the less likely they will be to accept any transfers back without a black mark on your record. So if you want to cling to the past, now is the time to get out. If you choose to remain here, you will suffer a temporary demotion with a chance to regain your commands later in the Green Fleet. You have to choose between your loyalty to High Command and your loyalty to the Emperor. I expect no loyalty to me this early. That comes with time, training, and experience. But I am here because the Emperor ordered it. And if the High Command disagrees with that order and is interfering with its implementation, you can no longer stay neutral. You must pick a side. If you wish to return to the Yellow Fleet, you need to decide now. Your crews, however, must stay here. I cannot send everyone back who wishes it. But I must have all my captains loyal to this mission. The mission of the Frontier. If you don’t have the stones to defy High Command’s will, then you don’t belong here anyway.”

“High Command takes orders from the Emperor,” Captain Kava said stiffly. “Otherwise they’re rebels and should be dealt with accordingly. I choose to stay, Grand Admiral, and will proudly wear the green uniform and faithfully assist you in the mission my Emperor has ordered.”

“Then report to the Steadfast immediately. You have a lot of work to do.”

Kava nodded and stood, then walked out of the chamber with a stiff, boot-clanking pace. When the door sealed behind him Aatroxiss continued.

“The rest of you have a pathway to being a commanding officer in this Fleet, but it will require change, learning, hard work, and letting go of High Command’s habits and protocols. If you truly don’t feel you are up to that, then we need to part ways now peaceably. If you choose to stay and do anything less than your duty to me, you’ll be parting ways to a prison cell.”

“My apologies, Grand Admiral,” Captain Lonsen said stiffly. “I do not wish to learn another way nor surrender my rank. I elect to return to High Command.”

“Very well,” Aatroxiss said with a nod. “The freighter Nero 19 will be returning to Itinios directly after this mission. Collect your personal belongings and transfer to a waiting berth there. Everyone who thinks likewise, do the same now. If you remain in this room, the path ahead will become very hard for you. For I will not tolerate weakness in the Green Fleet. If you cannot handle that, the time to leave is now,” he said, standing up and walking to the door, opening it, and waiting beside as he looked back at the table.

Lonsen was the first to leave, but not the last. There was a great deal of hesitation, but eventually 16 of the 26 captains left, with the remaining 10 looking very unsure of themselves.

Aatroxiss sealed the door and sat back down, but this time leaning back in his chair.

“All of you are hereby assigned to the Redemption at the brevet rank of Hexdra. You will work in this crew and learn my ways while I simultaneously evaluate you. If you can prove your worth you will command your own ships again, but I will not send you back until I am certain you have become worthy of the green uniform. Until then you will all wear yellow. Quarters have already been assigned. Check with the deck officer and get settled in. Your belongings will be transferred over via shuttle. You will not be leaving this ship until I give you a new command or I send you back to the Districts in disgrace. You will not have the option of remaining here as Hexdras. It’s command or nothing. I hope you can find the bravery within you to make the necessary changes. Captain Mahansey is now your commanding officer, and he will not be lax with you. It was his ship, after all, that you stood by and let be attacked. Dismissed.”

Aatroxiss didn’t move, and the remaining ten Hexdras walked out looking as if they’d just been shot multiple times. Some staggered, others looked stiff, and there was no coordination between them. They were broken, and Aatroxiss just hoped that Mahansey could put back together a few of them. He didn’t want to waste officer slots on his flagship for people that were destined to fail.

When they were all gone he pulled out his comlink again. “Captain, put the first officers through.”

A moment later holograms appeared at the table. All were standing where the chairs were, their legs overlapping, as Aatroxiss looked out over them.

“You are all now commanding officers of your ships. Your previous captains failed to defend the flagship when it came under fire. I expect better from you…”

12

Over the next dekka Aatroxiss made some clandestine visits to test subjects on the medical ship in orbit of the planet, accelerating their healing without letting the doctors know what he was doing. He also greatly sped up the recovery of the suffering augment trooper who had his alien grafts removed. The surgery was a barbaric one and left him in a state of medicated agony, which Aatroxiss was not going to allow to continue since he’d ordered it.

But he kept his healing powers secret for the most part. Down on the planet he hadn’t held back due to the massive suffering and imminent death of many of them, and was counting on stories of him healing on touch alone to be dismissed as ridiculous rumor.

And despite his sporadic healing missions, his Kalla had regenerated to more than half by the time the relief fleet that had been trailing the Redemption finally arrived. 106 civilian ships in total, escorted by 9 warships, the largest of which was a cruiser. Thanks to Admiral Corva’s initial report, he knew what to expect here and had assembled a long list of supplies and personnel to be transferred out of Outpost #01, which had become the way station for personnel he had been requesting from the Empire to loiter in until he gave them assignments.

Once they arrived he brought 9 of them into the Redemption’s conference room for a planning session, for he couldn’t keep the Redemption parked here indefinitely. He had to turn over command to others and move on to other planets that were in need of help, but he had to make sure this one was set up properly, the same as Harshoo, before leaving it. Otherwise the ‘fixes’ he had started would fall apart quite fast.

“Grand Admiral,” Iriot Nami asked, flicking a lock of orange hair out of her face that was a much deeper shade than her skin, though her black uniform seemed to suck in a great deal of the color in counterbalance. “I wanted to thank you for requesting my presence. I’ve been trying for years to get a field assignment, let alone one of this magnitude.”

Aatroxiss looked at the woman with a raised eyebrow. “How do you define ‘field assignment?’”

She sat up a little straighter in her seat, but her expression remained stoic. “Somewhere not fully colonized. Managing an already established planet is a waste of my talents, though the Imperial colonization board thought otherwise. Might I ask how you changed their mind?”

“I made my request directly to the Emperor. He handles his underlings without me needing to be involved in it.”

Her eyes widened. “You spoke to the Emperor about me?”

“I submitted a list with your name on it and you are here now. He took care of the necessary details so I wouldn’t have to. Getting the Frontier in order is one of his top priorities, and he has given me considerable power and latitude. If I ask something from him, I usually get it, because he knows I will deliver results. And I need results here from all of you,” he said, glancing at the other civilians. “This planet has a facility that is an abomination. Not only was it conducting activities that violated Imperial law, it was a place of pure evil wrapped up in necessity and other false rationalizations. I have already dealt with the worst parts of it, but there are approximately 3 million prisoners here inhabiting the planet from 18 different races.”

That produced shock on the faces of half of those assembled, but it didn’t seem to phase Aren Whenson, who was a renown shipping magnate and ran a personal fleet of cargo ships across nearly all the Districts in the Empire.

“What were they being used for?” he asked.

“Spare parts and test subjects,” Aatroxiss said flatly. “And some of those parts were being shipped back into the Empire illegally. Individuals were also coming out here to get grafts of alien tissue. I’ve got a planetary governor in custody who was here for just such a surgery and got caught on the planet when my occupation force arrived. He will be enroute to a prison shortly.”

“May we ask whom it was?” Nami said as all of them appeared both shocked and curious.

“Nathen Ursa, now former Governor of Prahda.”

Even Whenson blanched at that. “May I ask what his crime was?”

“Grafting alien tissue into his own body to enhance his eyesight. Tissue taken from murdered prisoners here.”

Whenson’s face scrunched up. The Empire and its citizenry held aliens in contempt for the most part, and mixing their biology with Vixot wasn’t just illegal, it was a very large social taboo.

“I doubt the charges will stick,” Dr. Beyn scoffed from the seat directly on Aatroxiss’s left. “He’s too well connected.”

“I sentenced him personally,” the Grand Admiral said flatly. “And in the Frontier I have the same power as the Emperor. He will not be avoiding prison, and I have already composed a message to the Emperor explaining why he will need to appoint a replacement.”

That left everyone speechless, for no one really knew why they were out here, let alone the extent of power Aatroxiss wielded.

“I get that look a lot,” he admitted, smiling casually. “So I’ll just be straight with you. The Emperor fears a future invasion coming through the Frontier and has given me unlimited power in order to stop it from reaching the Districts. Out here I have the final say on all things, and I can even overrule the Emperor’s Standing Orders. If he wants something from me he will speak to me privately about it, but truthfully he just wants the Frontier put in order and doesn’t care how I do it. And I need your help to put this planet in order.”

He tapped a button built into the table and a holographic map of the colony site, including both the settlement and the large paddocks, appeared a finger’s width above the tabletop.

“It is my policy to treat aliens the same as I do Vixot…as people, not property. The Turook paddock here,” he said, highlighting one of the 18 inhabited ones, while there was another empty one that had been under construction but far from completed, “will be emptied and the prisoners repatriated to their home planet of Harshoo. The Vixot paddock contains some people that can be repatriated to Imperial worlds, but the rest are new births grown through accelerated means with little to no education. Even speaking basic is difficult for them, and they will need considerable training and rehab before they can join Imperial society. I intend for that rehab to occur here,” he said, looking at a psychological specialist on the far right of the table.

“I was wondering why I had been brought here,” Dr. Orion said with a nod. “I’ve dealt with Vixot from outside the Empire before and have the necessary procedures to rehab them into reliable citizens, but can you explain this growth acceleration?”

“The former owners of this planet were doing genetic experiments and needed multiple generations as quickly as possible. Thus you can assume that the adults reached maturity in about a third of the years that is normally required.”

Dr. Orion sagged his head and cradled his white, speckled nose in his fingers. His skin variety was almost pure white but covered in green freckles, while his hair was black and combed back into what looked like a shiny helmet that clung to his skull.

“That will complicate matters.”

“Indeed. The health of the individuals is also lacking, but improving now that we’ve got proper food to them and prefab shelters for the sickest of them to live in. Their paddock contained no buildings. They were living out in the open or in huts if they were able to construct them.”

“I can understand doing that to aliens, but Vixot?” Nami said with disgust. “It’s reprehensible. I hope you executed whoever was responsible for this.”

“Most of the people responsible fought to the death rather than be captured. As for the others, I have banned all executions in the Frontier. If we are to teach aliens to be civilized, we must show them the way through our own example, and executions are a sign of barbarism. I have a special prison constructed for these monsters, and that is where they will end up.”

“Am I to understand we will be training the aliens?” retired General Xenak asked, recently off a stint as the commandant of a training academy on Pehsk.

“If I can send all of them home I will, but I find that unlikely. Some could be killed simply because of contact with us, so I assume I am going to be responsible for at least some of them going forward. I am not content to let them remain in their current condition, so I will be supplying you with methods and techniques of my own design to implement here. You are not to deviate from them. I am having to put together a giant puzzle in the Frontier, and this is one tiny piece of it. You won’t see how it fits into other pieces, so I need you to stick close to the program I will provide you, though you are welcome to make suggestions.”

“What tasks do you want them trained for?”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Some of these races are too dangerous to interact with directly. Your task is not just to teach, but to wage a war against nature itself. I aim to elevate these races to the point where they can be useful, and do so honorably. The odds do not favor victory in this, which is why I wanted someone with battle experience to handle the training programs. This will be a long and arduous task, and may yield no results. But it is an attempt that must be made. I trust you can handle an uphill battle?”

“If given the proper equipment and personnel to fight it, yes.”

“All of you are going to have to get used to the new way of doing things that I’m implementing in the Frontier, and there is a growing list of them. I can assure you that every decision has been strategically thought out and has long term implications, so please do not deviate from what I am asking you to do. That will just cause more problems for me to personally deal with, and you’re here to lighten my load, not add to it.”

“I would guess this planet doesn’t feed itself?” Whenson asked.

“It does not. We will have to be running regular shipments of food out here from Harshoo, supplemented by supplies coming out through Itinios until I can get adequate production facilities for all staples. Some of those missing staples I want to start producing here. The paddocks will not be used as slave labor, but in their training they will be given options. One option is to serve the Empire by growing and processing foodstuffs in facilities that don’t yet exist,” he said, looking at Nami. “I don’t just intend to occupy this facility as a long term rescue mission. I intend to fully colonize this planet over the long term. Its climate is good, and its geographical position, while somewhat far into the Frontier from current strongholds, will be expertly placed for future operations. I intend to hold it for now, and gradually grow it into a powerhouse for later. Is that sufficient field work for you?”

Nami smiled broadly. “Quite so.”

Aatroxiss brought his hands up on the table and steepled his fingers in the triangle pose that suggested to others that he was in deep thought. It also gave him something to look at other than their faces as he spoke.

“First and foremost, however, this is a rescue mission. How the Empire treats prisoners and aliens is of critical importance going forward. Many attempts have been made to civilize the Frontier and all have failed, primarily because the aliens out here hate the Empire, and with good reason. It has not treated them well, and if an alien race treated Vixot the same way the Empire would immediately declare war. So I am not making the mistakes of the past again. We will treat the aliens honorably and as our equals, for that is what I wish for them to become in time. Tell someone they are inferior constantly and they are likely to at least partially believe you. So I want you to treat them as young Vixot who do not have much experience or wisdom, but who have potential. This approach is not optional.”

“Second, if there is to be a largescale invasion in the future, it is better to have neighboring alien races not assisting in that invasion, or even better yet, as our allies. The more you mistreat aliens, the more aliens will rise against you. This is another mistake I will not repeat.”

“Third, we must do what is morally right rather than what is convenient if we are to civilize this barbaric region. The Empire, and even the Emperor, has never learned this lesson, and I intend to show him its merits.”

“I will be running this world from afar, sending you instructions and you sending me detailed reports. I do not want you implementing new stuff before getting my permission, which will be easy when I’m here, but will be much more lengthy in duration once we have to rely on couriers between worlds. This planet is too far away to be linked up to the ImpCom anytime soon, so communication will run through a series of standard patrols passing through this system at regular intervals. It is critical that you work with me in the way I require, because there will be no one here to look over your shoulder on a regular basis. This requires a great deal of trust, and if that trust is broken you will find yourselves in the prison alongside Nathen Ursa. Is that understood?”

Multiple nods answered him, but General Xenak looked disturbed. “And what if these new techniques don’t work?”

“You are not here to get results regardless of the means. You are here to get results within the means I allow. If that is insufficient to the task, I will alter the means until success is achieved. As long as you faithfully carry out my instructions, and my intent, you will not be held responsible for failure. I am the one responsible for this planet, you are here as tools for me to use to do that. If I screw up, I don’t blame my tools. But if the tool does something it’s not supposed to, it will be replaced.”

“A curious ideology, Grand Admiral, but I understand you clearly.”

He turned his attention to the orange woman. “Nami, you are hereby appointed as Planetary Governor. You won’t have much leeway initially, given how tight supplies are, but eventually I will give you broader objectives and you can pursue those in your own ways. Until then, stick strictly to my instructions and keep an eye out for problems. Of all your responsibilities here, oversight and constructing reports for me to know what is going on is your primary task.”

She nodded curtly. “Will I be based onboard a ship, or are there sufficient facilities on the surface?”

“There are quite a few luxurious accommodations that will suit you nicely. The former owners had their own comfort as a top priority. A lot of those areas are being gutted at present to be reworked into more functional areas, but I have left a significant amount of residential infrastructure alone. You will be based on the planet. All of you will be.”

“Is the wildlife hostile?” Amber Narvi asked.

“Quite so, and the same is true within the paddocks. Do not enter the paddocks and do not go outside the settlement without armed escort, but for the most part you won’t need to go anywhere else. There is an empty, partially constructed paddock with large tracts of land that have already been cleared. You will fill the role of Chief Builder, and aside from overseeing the rework of existing structures, the partial paddock will be the location of most of the near future construction sites. However, you will need shield walls up to keep the wildlife out or there may be incidents. We had Vixot from the paddock set loose into the jungles as a distraction, and we only recovered a few of them. It is assumed the wildlife killed the others.”

“Is there a risk of another paddock breach?”

“Unlikely, but that’s another reason for shielded construction sites.”

“What about invasion?”

“I’m leaving a small fleet here for security purposes. They should be able to stop any ship from getting down to the planet without permission.”

“Hazard level 2, then,” she said, thinking ahead. “How large a workforce will I have?”

“Small at first, then more over time. But to start I’ve got three IEC cohorts insystem with 18 fully stocked warehouse ships.”

“We call them ‘puffers,’ Grand Admiral. And that’s more than I expected to work with. There should be no problems getting construction started, assuming you want standard buildings?”

“I’ll give you a list later. General Xenak, your position will be Chief of Personnel. In the distant future I intend to establish a full blown academy here, but in the near term I need some basic skills programs for indigenous Imperial personnel to add to their usefulness. I want workloads adjusted across all departments to allow for a minimum of 20% of their work hours for additional training. I want you to turn specialists into multi-taskers.”

“Do those personnel include the aliens?”

“At present they will be separate tasks, but I already have some Turook working for me on Harshoo. In the future I intend to integrate my forces with individual aliens who prove their worth.”

All chatter stopped when he said that, prompting a sigh from Aatroxiss.

“I know what the kneejerk Imperial reaction is to such things, but I have personally worked with aliens more than I have with Imperials. For those of you who haven’t heard through the rumor mill, I am a Keeno, and I led alien forces in combat against the Empire when the Empire invaded their worlds. I know what aliens are capable of and not capable of. And since the Empire hasn’t been able to conquer the Frontier using Imperial methods, I intend to do it through a mix of Imperial and Keeno methods. This is why the Emperor chose me, and I fully intend to have a combined force of Vixot and aliens in the distant future. In the near future, the aliens here are not ready for such responsibility and I do not want you elevating them to that status unless I order it. I want you getting them closer and closer to it, then I’ll make the final decision when the time comes.”

“I’ll need a sizeable staff to handle both tasks, Grand Admiral.”

“You’ll have it over time. Right now I’ve got 20 or so trainers for you to oversee. We’ll build your staff up from that later.”

He nodded his agreement and Aatroxiss moved on.

“Dr. Herren, you’re here because I need to start compiling a database of alien languages. Some out here already speak basic, but many don’t. I need you to start deciphering and cataloging them, starting with the races in this paddock, but eventually I will need a great deal more from across the Frontier. This is the beginning of a long term project that will involved an entire department. Right now it’s just you.”

“I welcome the challenge, Grand Admiral.”

“Whenson, you’re Chief of Logistics. There will be regular convoys coming out of Outpost #01, but you can’t assume they will always come. You must build up reserves so this planet can survive on its own as long as possible. I trust you understand what I mean?”

The man cracked a smile. “You want me to be a Moff,” he said, referring to the criminal underworld of smugglers, extortionists, brokers, and traders that made their profits by the movement and collection of goods rather than by claiming territory and military pursuits.

“You will be my Moff,” Aatroxiss clarified, “and operate on my code of conduct. But that will still allow for civilian transactions.”

Whenson smiled broadly, knowing that meant opportunity for personal wealth accumulation alongside his duties. His being sent to the Frontier had not been voluntary, but rather a command from the Emperor that he couldn’t refuse. Now though, it seemed more of an opportunity than a punishment or obligation, for he could still run his galaxy-wide operations from the Frontier, and he knew that was what ‘civilian transactions’ meant. “It would be my pleasure, Grand Admiral. Will I be able to bring in some of my existing contacts and staff?”

“In time, yes, but right now I need you to make sure nothing goes to waste and to start establishing reserves. This could end up a war zone with shipments cut off at any time.”

“War with whom, exactly?”

“Take your pick, the Empire has made many enemies out here, but recently we got into a conflict with the Vitri that may escalate. The long term threat is too distant to worry about now. By the time it becomes an issue, I want this world more than able to defend itself.”

“Will civilian traffic be allowed?”

“In orbit only. No planetary landings,” Aatroxiss said, with Whenson giving a satisfied nod. “Nebulen?”

“Sorry, sir,” he said, looking up from the table. “I was just thinking.”

“Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine, sir. What do you require of me?”

“I got you out of prison for the very reason the Empire put you in it. You defied corruption and held to your principles. I need you to do the same here and begin putting together a planetary security force as the Chief of Police. Right now I’ve got army troopers serving all aspects of security, and I need to gradually shift them over to traditional military roles. I’ve got a ship full of raw recruits who agreed to a training in the field contract, and I need you to turn them into a respectable force. A lot come from bad worlds and were looking for any chance to escape them, so they may be a little rough, but anyone volunteering to come to the Frontier is probably desperate enough to be willing to learn.”

“That’s why I’m here?” he asked, aghast.

“That’s why I requested you. What did you expect?”

“I didn’t think I’d ever be trusted with police duties again.”

“Large portions of the Empire are corrupt. I cannot allow the Frontier to be the same. You should have been rewarded for denying the bribes from the Castril family, not sentenced. And while I can’t do anything for you back in the Districts, in the Frontier you’re now a free man. This is not a penalty assignment. You are no longer a prisoner. This is me trying to make right something the Empire did wrong, and hoping that your experience will serve to further strengthen your resolve in both your personal service and in teaching others how to honorably serve. Or was I wrong and your resolve has broken?”

“Many things in me broke, to be honest, Grand Admiral. But nothing that can’t be mended with time. Am I truly free?”

“Your pardon is only effective in the Frontier, but yes, you are free. If you don’t feel up to this assignment I’ll transfer you to one of the planets out here and you can join the Vixot population as a free man.”

“No, Grand Admiral. I’d be happy to serve as Chief of Police for this planet.”

“My apologies, I misspoke. You’re not Chief of police just for this planet. You’re going to be training and overseeing other officers that will be sent out to other planets in time. I need someone who is incorruptible to be Chief of Police for the entire Frontier. You’re just starting with this planet.”

His eyes widened almost as much as a pained grin, as if he hadn’t smiled in years.

“Thank you, Grand Admiral. I am honored.”

“It’s more about a lot of hard work incoming than honor. So take it slow if you’re not up to the task of training young hotheads just yet.”

“Grand Admiral,” Xenak interrupted. “Are his recruits under my umbrella or a separate one?”

“You two can work that out. If he chooses to train them on the job, then no, they’re not. But if you want to assist him with setting up some pure training programs its his call, but whatever works best. When we get around to creating a proper academy later, police recruits will be trained there, but in this transitional period we do whatever works. The recruits that came on contracts are the Chief of Police’s responsibility. Academy recruits would not have contracts.”

“Understood,” the retired General said, with both men nodding their agreement.

“Dr. Beyn, you’re here to be Chief of Medical Operations. Right now patients have to be sent up to the medical ship for serious conditions. The planet has no proper medical staff. The butchers that were here are either dead or on their way to prison. I need you to start building a medical team superior to what you would see on a medical ship. I want this planet to become a medical oasis for passing ships and the planetary population, not a makeshift field office.”

“That’s far more complicated than it sounds.”

“Even more complicated since you’re going to have to operate under different protocols than the rest of the Empire. Frontier protocols that I am still in the process of writing. My Doctors are to be healers, not death dealers, and far too often Imperial protocol has you hacking off body parts or terminating patients that would otherwise require far too much effort for little gain. My Doctors must never give up, even if they eventually lose the battle. I will not tolerate quitters, and I want you to take routine problems that are considered untreatable and start to develop ways to treat them. I don’t care if it takes you 50 years to figure out how, you mentally stay on it and never surrender to despair. I trust that attitude is one you are capable of assimilating.”

“I assume I’m here because of the paper I wrote?”

“You are.”

“Then I’ll be able to make moral decisions about patients rather than triage?”

“I want both my soldiers and my doctors to use their conscience. Right now the Empire refuses to accept there is such a thing for either. That changes now.”

“Even with aliens?”

“With everyone. No one is expendable.”

The young man grinned. He’d graduated at the top of the Imperial medical academy, but once he’d gotten into actual practice he’d run into a multitude of problems with existing protocol…and the fact that he had saved several patients labeled as ‘incurable’ hadn’t stopped him from being reassigned to lower and lower priority worlds in the Empire. Aatroxiss had pulled him off a fringe world where there were only 12 doctors on the entire planet, mostly left to their own devices with no oversight. It was the butt end of the medical profession, but the only place Beyn could work without interference.

“Are any of the current facilities useable?”

“Most are. We’re reconstructing a few of them, but equipment wise you’re pretty well set up now, and I’ll get you what you need from the convoy or, if necessary, pull more supplies in from the Districts if there is something rare and specific you need.”

“Will I be training other doctors?”

“Not at the moment, but I’ve got you a pool of Heps and Specs to draw from,” Aatroxiss said, referring to ‘Helpers’ and ‘Specialists’ that were not trained as full doctors, but to act as assistants in various ways. To be a doctor you had to have some base knowledge of all medical practices, and many people didn’t want to undertake that level of training, so they specialized in specific skills or general aid, leaving the troubleshooting aspect…and ultimately the responsibility…to the doctors themselves.

“Yioni Chodo,” he said, speaking to the last person in the group who had golden hair and green skin…an odd combination that suggested genetic alteration of the hair rather than natural coloration.

“Sir,” the woman said, almost shaking when he said her name. She’d never been involved in any high level meetings, let alone with someone like the Grand Admiral.

“You’re probably wondering why you are here, correct?”

“Yes, sir. I don’t have any…sort of…skills like they do.”

“What you have is experience,” he said, twisting his head to look at her second seat on his left. “There is a male bias in the Empire that is partially justified, partially unjustified. There are many women, like Governor Nami here,” he said, drawing a smile at the use of her new title, “that have been held back by unjustified bias. Fortunately it means they are usually available for me to coax or conscript out to the Frontier. That said, there are many other women who still rely on men to do most things for them and they do not deserve their positions, typically given to them in exchange for favors. I trust you know what I mean by favors?”

Yioni gulped once, bad memories coming to the surface. “Yes, sir.”

“This planet will soon be getting colonists. Workers coming here in search of a better life than wherever they came from. Out here, away from everything else, the opportunities for misbehavior are almost unlimited. I do not tolerate misbehavior in the military, and I will not tolerate it in the workforce. Individuals will be given jobs based on their skills, not on their gender or for favors. You get what you earn, no more, no less. I trust that with your past experience you agree with me.”

“Completely, sir.”

“Good. You are to be the Chief of Labor for this planet, and among the many duties that will cover, I want you specifically to hunt down and stop anything other than honest pay for honest work. I have opened up the colony requisition form on Itinios to allow for both male and female workers. You will treat them by the same standards, and make sure all line operators down to the work coordinators do so as well. Weed out any small problems before they grow into larger ones. I will not allow this colony to become a replica of all the Empire’s problems. This is a new colony, so let’s get it started off right. Can you do that?”

“I’m not sure what all the duties are you are referring to Gran…Grand Admiral. But I promise I will work my hardest to do as you request.”

“Good enough,” he said, leaning back and dropping his hands below the tabletop. “All of you will be learning as you go, some more than others, but this is a new start for everyone. I do not remove people for making mistakes, only for not learning from their mistakes. Growing a new colony is hard work, and even harder when I’m requiring that you do it in ways that have not been done before. If at any time you feel the duties are too much for you to handle, inform me and I will transition you elsewhere. I am not someone who takes well to being lied to or having information withheld from me. I am also not someone who is unfair or demanding the impossible. Work the problems as they arise and never give up. Beyond that, there are a lot of smaller details I want to go over with each of you in private, but that can wait until later. Right now, I want to make sure you all understand what it is I’m trying to accomplish out here, and the best way to do that is by answering questions. Tell me what it is you don’t understand and I will try to fill in the blanks as best I can.”

Yioni tentatively raised a hand. “Does this planet have a name?”

“A name will come much later, once it’s established. For now, it will simply be known as Colony #01…”

13

The Redemption stayed at Colony #01 for another dekka while Aatroxiss got his preliminary plans for how to handle each of the paddocks set in stone with the Planetary Governor and her Chiefs. The test subjects that were from the paddocks had been returned to them save for the Vindar that had been isolated, enhanced, and somewhat trained. They spoke a crude form of basic and did not want to return to the swamps, citing that their territories would have been taken by others and they’d have nowhere to go. Returning them there would mean immediate fighting.

Everyone else had been reintegrated adequately, but there were also some test subjects for races not present in the paddocks. Aatroxiss had spoken with them personally and there was a mix who wanted to return home and those that did not. Those that didn’t likewise said they’d be killed or otherwise ostracized if they were taken back for a variety of reasons, but the biggest one is the Empire was reviled and anyone who had spent time with them would be looked at as either a traitor or contaminated.

So Aatroxiss had the Chief Builder create some mini-paddocks that involved buildings and tracts of land surrounded by more of the tall fencing…which was more to keep wildlife out than them inside, but given Vixot feelings about aliens at the moment it was best if interactions were kept to a minimum.

Everyone appeared content with the quick builds, given that they’d just been tortured in confinement cells the size of a closet after long trips stuck in similar holding cells on starships after being abducted from their homeworlds. Only the Vindar were not happy with the arrangement, given that they’d been in the process of training to serve the Empire, and for some reason they still wanted to do that despite the horrific process that they’d undergone and seen many of their fellow Vindar die from.

But apparently the Vindar were loners and not that concerned about the others. The Empire had given them a purpose and they did not want to go back to having none and just roaming the swamps trying to find enough food to stay alive and keeping rivals out of their territory. The feeding zones in the paddock were the only areas where they truly coexisted, retreating back to individual areas that saw young Vindar being killed and eaten by the larger ones until they grew enough to develop their bioarmor, which made it very hard for one Vindar to kill another.

That was another reason they spread out rather than murdering everyone in sight.

But those murderous instincts had been seen as something to be utilized by the Empire, and rather than being taught to protect rather than hunt, the Empire had been teaching and reworking their brains to control and enhance their hunting instincts. Each of the Vindar stood taller than he was and outmassed him by at least 3 times, and they’d typically keep growing larger over time with ample food. While he had dealt with them personally, it was too dangerous to have anyone else do so. Their ability to follow orders was limited, and he’d had to beat some sense into them before they’d truly accepted him as their superior.

So he’d worked out a paddock for them that was part habitat, part training facility, and had no wildlife in it at all. It was all grasslands that had been scraped down to the dirt, resculpted, and reseeded to remove even the burrowing wildlife. He did not want these guys to be eating wildlife in addition to their rations, and had made that point with the Chief of Personnel. Aatroxiss had given him enough information that he could run them through various drills for the next 3 years before he’d need more instruction, and he’d made sure to keep the Redemption in the system long enough to see if the new system would be accepted.

It had been, and now his flagship was enroute back to Harshoo with 16 transports full of Turook. It would take several trips to empty the entire paddock of 184,000 of them, but the more he pulled off the planet the less food would be required to ship in, and he wanted to get the transfers started immediately.

Other transports were being escorted by individual cruisers to the worlds where the test subjects had been collected. Some were Imperial worlds, others were not. The ones that wanted to be returned were being taken there immediately, while Aatroxiss was leaving a detachment of 8 warships, three of them cruisers, at Colony #01 along with more than half of the cargo fleet that were still full of supplies that the surface had no room to take, for they’d already filled every warehouse they had to the rafters in order to clear up enough room to carry the Turook back on some of the freighters.

And that left Aatroxiss with something of a break during the journey back, which took twice as long given that the battleship had to keep pace with the slower transports. But a break for the Grand Admiral didn’t mean rest. It meant a lot of work in his quarters and catching up on other projects he’d had to set aside to deal with on Colony #01.

His door chime sounded, and he pressed a button to open it remotely.

“Have a seat,” he said to a clean and rejuvenated Commander Ensinne now dressed in a green fleet uniform, though technically he didn’t exist in the personnel roster…except for Aatroxiss’s own, and that of CYSO.

The man sat silently and efficiently, waiting for the Grand Admiral to proceed.

“You’ve been trained to do tactical and strategic analysis, correct?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“What’s your analysis of the Empire as a whole?”

He blinked, caught off guard for a moment. “In what way?”

“Long term viability.”

He thought for a moment. “I see no immediate threats to it. The Slicari are…curious, but even if they launched a full scale assault the Empire would prevail. It’s too big to fall easily.”

“Then why is the Emperor worried?”

“Is he? Our mission was simple data collection.”

“He is, though he didn’t go into why,” Aatroxiss said, leaning back in his chair. “He fears a war is coming. One that will tear through the Frontier and into the Districts. I’m here to stop them from getting that far, and I’ve been reading your reports without sensing the danger he sees. Do you see a vulnerability that I do not?”

“Many vulnerabilities, Admiral, but nothing that the might of the Imperial military couldn’t overcome in time. The Fleet is spread out in many areas of the galaxy. Once a threat is determined and elements of it begin to converge, there is no stopping it.”

“I know better, Commander. I stopped it on many occasions. The only reason the Keeno did not successfully defeat the Empire is that we ran out of resources. Can you give me an assessment of the Slicari’s logistical base?”

“Nothing more than is in my report, Admiral. We were only able to infiltrate two of their worlds, and they were minor ones. Our attempts to get at ones deeper into their territory failed.”

“Oh?” Aatroxiss said, not remembering that in his report.

“Our incursions to the two target worlds were to be followed up by another if it was determined our stealth plating could defeat their sensors at sufficient range to get to a planet’s surface. We tested this at both Xanthul and Tridas, and it was determined that our stealth was only good at medium to long range. There were gaps in their patrols that we were able to exploit, but other reports indicate that the Slicari homeworlds have a detection net too tight for us to pass through. So no attempt was made.”

“Did you see those scans of their homeworld?”

“Yes. They were passed to us on our way there.”

“I have never seen them, and I’m supposed to have access to everything on the Slicari.”

Ensinne shrugged. “Not my department, sir. After we transmitted our reports back through the ImpCom and High Admiral Mubarak reassigned us, we destroyed all the records we had in our equipment. But I can remember most of it.”

“Tell me.”

“They were long range scans far from a planetary jumppoint. It was my guess that someone had creeped their way in from the star over dekkas to get those passive scans. Numerous orbital platforms and thousands of ships the size of this battleship or larger. Most were assumed to be weaponless, but the size was concerning. Almost nothing that large was seen at their colony worlds…which is what they call the ones they’ve claimed but not yet fully integrated into their holdings. Aliens are allowed to come and go with permission, and we were able to speak with a few Slicari under aliases. But what they call their homeworlds are strictly off limits to anyone and everyone not Slicari.”

“Were these scans you received recent?”

“I believe so.”

“If that’s why the Emperor didn’t have them yet then he didn’t break his word, but he had to have other reason to believe the Slicari were a threat prior to your mission.”

“I can answer that, Admiral. We were ordered to gather not just intel but rumors. It seems there’s a lot of talk amongst the aliens about the Slicari…none that we can confirm…but the more the rumors overlap from independent sources the more credibility we give them. The stories are wide ranging, but the aliens out here are afraid of them…more so than the Empire.”

Aatroxiss steepled his fingers again, his eyes focusing on nothing as he spoke. “Given what the Empire has done to so many alien races, it begs the question what could the Slicari be doing that’s worse?”

“I would guess it’s the blackout of information. When a world is taken by the Slicari, no one knows what happens there. Nobody ever comes out again.”

“Are they taking inhabited worlds?”

“Some. And the few multi-system races that have been hit by individual attacks are the source of many rumors, for they have no counterpunch. The Slicari take what they want, but are very slow and choosy about it. The Empire is more of an open book, and getting a scout ship in to see what we’re doing is easy. I don’t think very many scouts ever make it out of a Slicari homeworld system.”

“The Emperor told me they were patient.”

“And testing,” Ensinne added. “The worlds they take are essentially open to reprisals. If they’re not recaptured, they eventually become homeworlds.”

“After what timeframe?”

“Years at the minimum.”

“So how did these multi-system races end up in a black hole of information so fast?”

“Only approved aliens are allowed to transit and conduct commerce. They have enough warships present to keep out the ones they want, and their engine technology is very good.”

“So I’ve been told. You believe they hold a technological edge on us?”

“Most likely. The small bits and pieces of technology we were able to recover showed some improvements on Imperial tech, but not all. Some of their stuff was inferior to ours.”

Aatroxiss frowned. “What pieces are you referring to?”

“When we were on the surface we didn’t just take surveillance, we collected samples of some of the smaller stuff we could carry out. It was turned over to Mubarak for transport back to the Emperor since our orders had us remaining here.”

“Really?”

Ensinne frowned. “Yes, sir. Is there a problem?”

“There is no record of such a transfer being made. Furthermore, I have no orders from the Emperor assigning you to Mubarak.”

“I saw a copy of them myself when we returned. The coding was legit.”

“How easy is it to fake those codes?”

“Difficult, sir. Are you suggesting they were forged?”

Aatroxiss activated the holotable between them and a list of ultra-secret information was displayed detailing every special teams assignment in the Frontier…all of which had been recently recalled.

“I have not only the power of the Emperor out here, but his knowledge as well,” Aatroxiss said, seeing the Commander’s eyes widen a bit, for the compartmentalized nature of his world meant he was never supposed to know anything beyond his own mission. “Your orders were to recon and return. The Emperor never assigned you to Mubarak, let alone Gorgo. Mubarak was ordered to assist you, he was not given command of you.”

The Commander fidgeted in his seat. “We received the orders through a special handler on our return. They didn’t come directly from the High Admiral. If they were false, the handler had to be corrupted or was fed corrupt information. I don’t think Mubarak has the connections to do that. Only a few people have the necessary codes to even attempt to fake such orders.”

“Could you fake them?”

Ensinne frowned for a moment, his eyes growing harsh. “Possibly. You’re suggesting another Team went rogue?”

“I’m considering all possibilities. As I said previously, your Team was assumed to be lost in action. Mubarak never reported that you had returned.”

“I met with him personally,” Ensinne growled.

“After or before?”

“Both times. He’s the one that handled the encrypted transmission of our classified report.”

“Interesting,” was all that Aatroxiss said, then an uncomfortable silence hung between them until the Commander finally broke it.

“Will you arrest him?”

“I’m not ready to deal with the High Admirals yet, but I’m not going to ignore this. I’m trying to think what possible reason he would have to not transmit that information other than wanting to grab your Team for his own use.”

“I’ll reiterate, Admiral, those codes could not be faked except by a very short list of people. They’re meant to be unbreakable, and only someone on the inside would know what is expected to be seen. We’re trained to run such checks and never assume our orders are legit until we do. Your orders from the Emperor also hold secret codes that confirm them. Only his inner circle is even aware they exist. They are not trusted to High Command.”

“That’s news to me,” Aatroxiss said skeptically.

“It’s a subtle thing, Admiral. I’ve been involved in past missions hunting down traitors that impersonate high ranking officers or planetary officials. The Emperor instituted the secret codes for his most secret of operations. Given that we aren’t even supposed to be here and were all recalled, I suppose he didn’t need to inform you.”

“Given the fact that he cannot give me orders, I suppose not,” Aatroxiss said, waving off the glare from the Commander. “We have a personal agreement that I will not share the full details of. I do not answer to the High Command and I do not answer to the Emperor. I answer to the agreement I have promised to uphold. That’s the only leash the Emperor holds on me, and he decided it was sufficient. So there won’t be any orders transmitted from him to me, which, as you said, means he didn’t need to inform me of the hidden coding.”

“But if you have authority to assume control of my Team…”

“I have that authority because he assumed all loyal special teams would have recalled by now. Anyone staying behind would be in defiance of his orders, and thus I could do with them as I pleased. You are a unique situation, and ultimately my problem because Mubarak is my problem. I want you to remember as much as you can of your original report and recreate it. I’ll make sure it gets to the Emperor this time, but I’d like to keep your Team with me if you don’t object.”

“If we’re listed as dead or missing then we’re already disavowed. I honestly don’t know if we’d be accepted back again if the Emperor was told the truth. We’ve been gone a long time, and if Mubarak did this to us, I’d like a chance at revenge.”

“The more I learn about his dealings out here, the more I think I’m going to have to remove him…but I know very little about the Frontier and how deep his ties go. Gorgo was assumed to be a rogue with leverage on Mubarak, but now it seems like Mubarak is less of a victim and more of a rogue himself. I need information as to what’s going on before I make any decisions as to how to proceed. I’d like your Team to begin gathering that intel.”

“Are we still being considered non-existent or part of your official command?”

“Which would you prefer?”

“Gorgo had us training his pet soldiers, so there are a lot of half-trained Teams out there mimicking what we do. I was told it was to be an extension of the special teams program dedicated to the Frontier and alien assignments. Was that also a lie?”

“It was,” the Grand Admiral said, glancing at the list of special teams that had been present in the Frontier. “None of these are training missions, and there were no permanent bases created out here to service you.”

“Then frankly, Admiral, if you want us to work for you it would be best to be officially assigned to your command. Otherwise another Team might be sent to clean up the loose ends if we were discovered to still be alive and never reported back in.”

“Has that happened before?”

“Yes. We were informed of three occasions during our training of such traitors. We’re expected to police each other, Admiral. I don’t want my Team killed because we were betrayed. We’re all loyal to the Emperor.”

“Then I’ll make sure he knows what happened, and that I am annexing control of your Team. If he sends another to eliminate you, he will be breaking his agreement with me…and I know that he will not do that. You will have your legitimacy back within the Frontier.”

“Will you want us to hunt down the security breaches?”

“You mean those you half-trained?”

“They know things they should not.”

“Too late for that now, and when it comes to assassinations that is very close to being an execution, and I banned executions for a reason. The only way I’d ever authorize an assassination is if that someone was an active threat. Not someone who happened to have information I didn’t want him to have.”

“Sir, I can’t state this will complete certainty, but I believe some of the individuals we trained were responsible for setting up the network of spies and saboteurs in this Fleet.”

“Did you train any that were not augmented with alien tissues?”

“No, we didn’t. But that’s not to say they couldn’t have trained others. We’ve been out here doing this for years, Admiral. Gorgo had thousands of augments that we gave at least some training to. Where they went I have no idea. Actually, we’d probably be executed for that breach even if we thought we were following orders,” he said reluctantly, staring at the floor for a moment.

“You’re faced with a situation not of your own making, and seeing that others will judge you a traitor or liability for it. This lack of trust and fairness is one of the Empire’s greatest weaknesses. It is not a weakness I will tolerate within the Green Empire. So I will not send you to kill people who likewise thought they were following orders and receiving training from you. Do you understand why?”

“I see your point, Admiral.”

“Furthermore, if I send you out on missions, I don’t want you killing people. You need to be ghosts that move about without leaving a body count behind. I know some situations that can’t be avoided, but remember that every individual who is in an inconvenient place may just be like you. Someone loyally doing their duty and caught up in a mess because they were lied to or ordered to do something they should not be doing. I don’t want loyal people killed for any reason, Commander. And since you can’t always tell who is loyal or not, your default modus operandi must be to accomplish missions without killing. You will not be an execution squad if you work for me.”

“Loud and clear, Admiral. We were trained to not be seen and use a variety of weapons and methods. We’re not just a kill squad.”

“If you need to access a computer terminal and there is a guard in your way, I don’t want you being so lazy or desperate that you kill the guard. If you can’t access it without doing so, then abort the mission. Skill should be your weapon, and sometimes it may not be enough. You have to learn when to walk away or you will end up becoming the enemy in order to accomplish your mission.”

“The enemy?”

“If the Empire is to rule, it must do so fairly, honestly, and with scruples. The enemy is the enemy not because they are on the other side, but because they do not hold to those three tenets. Your behavior determines whether you are honorable or not. Those with honor are allies, those without it are enemies. In this way the opposition can determine their own status rather than it being decided for them.”

“Not what we were taught, Admiral, but I can see the distinction…especially since based on what we were taught we are now enemies of the Empire. It makes you rethink a lot of things.”

“Learn to use a stun weapon whenever possible, and make sure your team learns it too. That will take care of most of the problems I’m worried about. But it would be best if you can get in and out of locations without needing to shoot anyone.”

“We can do that on both counts. But sometimes when a guard has seen something, stun won’t silence him forever.”

“Consider that a small loss on your Team’s part. You do not punish the guard with death because you weren’t sneaky enough.”

Ensinne nodded. “Another valid point. I assume you’re referring to only noncombatants?”

“If you start the fight, no. If someone starts a fight with you, that’s different. But that fight can’t be in response to you being somewhere you’re not supposed to be. That would still be you instigating.”

“That sounds confusing enough to cause trouble for us. But if we stay hidden and avoid firefights, then it’s a moot point. When we do data collection we prefer to be unseen.”

“And it is data collection that I want from you, nothing more. And that does not mean interrogating people. Torture is not allowed, and I don’t want you taking prisoners. Ghosts don’t take prisoners to interrogate them, and they don’t get even with Mubarak or his minions.”

“We’ll stay on mission, Admiral. Where do you want us?”

“If I send you to Dengorn, how can I supply you there?” he said, referring to Mubarak’s seat of power in the Frontier. “And how can you get messages back to me?”

“Shouldn’t be hard with all the shipping traffic there. We can stow away on a freighter and get down to the planet, then put together our own supply drops. We know how to hack the monetary system and siphon off what we need.”

“Doesn’t that leave a trail to follow?”

“With all the embezzling that takes place anyway, it fits right in.”

“Would coin be preferable?”

“In small amounts, yes. But using planetary electronic transfer is preferable in some situations.”

“We’re returning to Harshoo, and from there convoys go out to many Imperial systems. Would you like to approach that way, or do I need to get you more direct transport? Technically I command everything in the Frontier, so I can send whatever orders I want ahead of you.”

“Grain shipments work fine. We’ve used them before on occasion. But we’d prefer to hop one closer to the target.”

“I’ll have a corvette on courier duty carry you wherever you need to go. I’ve got lots running all over the Frontier due to the fact that ImpCom is almost nonexistent out here. Pick your planet and arrange for a way to send reports back.”

“What specifically are we looking for?”

“I want to know who the power players are out here, and what they’re up to. The operation we just left behind was not a small or amateur one, and I’ve already found links back into the Districts. There’s a lot of rivals to the Emperor working out here as well. I need to see clearly what’s going on, who is where, what they’re doing, and what laws they’re breaking. I’ve been issuing a lot of orders to other planets. I also need to see who is following them and who is not.”

“That’s a lot for one Team to cover, but we’ll start digging into it once you get us into the wind.”

“Just make sure you come back eventually. Don’t let you or your Team start thinking you actually are rogue.”

“We won’t waste the second chance you’re giving us, Admiral. Trust me on that.”

“And when the time comes, I will deal with Mubarak personally. Your team is just to gather intel.”

“Clear, sir. We hold grudges, but we don’t break orders to pursue them.”

“I’m placing a lot of faith in your team, Commander. The Empire has taught you a lot of things, not all of them good. Normally I’d put you through a few years of retraining until I was confident in your skills and conscience, but I don’t have that luxury out here. Everything is falling apart and I’ve got to move quickly to pick up the pieces. I’d rather you disappointed me with results than with methods used.”

“We won’t disappoint on either count, Admiral. Nobody will even know we’re there.”

“How will you send back reports?”

“How much data are your couriers carrying?”

“As much as they can get. They’re not just transmitting a single set of orders from me, they’re carrying news, personnel info, traffic data…everything.”

“Then it should be easy enough to hide reports in that data. We’ll leave a cypher key here. Have the computer scan every batch of data the couriers bring and if we send a report it’ll show mixed in with all the rest, but nothing more than fake news stories or inventory numbers to anyone else that reads it.”

“Good. Now, as to replacements. You said you were training others. How long has it been since you’ve lost a man?”

“9 years, and he chose to walk away. He wasn’t killed, at least as far as I know. There’s a procedure when we’ve hit our limit and can’t or don’t want to do this kind of work anymore. We disappear and utilize dead drops to set us up elsewhere with new identities. The man in question left while we were out here. I hope he made it, but it’s possible he was intercepted and killed.”

“So you’re a man short?”

“There’s no fixed number necessary for a Team, Admiral. It all depends on how many we need for a mission. Teams can be as little as 4 or as many as 100.”

“How were you recruited?”

“I don’t know. I was just approached one day and offered another assignment. Why or how they chose me I don’t know.”

“How was Gorgo recruiting people for you to train?”

“Conscription for the most part. Most of them weren’t worthy of infantry duty, but we got some functionality beat into them. And the augmentation was impressive, but they’re mentally unstable without a certain drug that Gorgo supplied. It was a leash he held on them that fortunately the Emperor didn’t think we needed.”

“I’m aware of the problems and the drug. Are you capable of training new Team members?”

“If you get us good people, yes. Most of our training is done by our Teams, before that we’re put through what we call ‘basics’ to develop skills that will be useful. We don’t learn anything about how the Teams operate until we’re a part of them.”

“Then while you’re preparing for your mission, start putting together a wish list of personnel types and skills you’d like to add to your Team. And on that note, how many of them will you be deploying?”

“On a long term mission like this, all of them. Unless you want me to leave a few behind to start training others.”

“No. The Team expansion is something to experiment with in your downtime. It’s not a priority at the moment. Just thinking ahead into the future.”

“Can you request additional Teams from the Emperor?”

Aatroxiss sighed. “Possibly, but I won’t. For a number of reasons my mission requires me to make the Frontier semi-independent. I can train special teams of my own eventually, based on my own design. But that’s far down the priority list and I won’t get to it for years. I have need of your skills now, and if I can get you to unlearn the bad stuff the Empire taught you, then maybe you can save me a lot of time and effort trying to build special teams from scratch. Or not. Just thinking ahead right now. The immediate concern is getting accurate intel on Mubarak and others.”

“Do you want us to investigate the other High Admirals simultaneously?”

“I don’t want you spread out that much. Focus on Dengorn and only leave it if your investigation warrants it. When you think you’ve got a good handle on what’s going on, return to this ship by your own means or send a message requesting pickup. I’ll have other missions for you down the road. Just get me in the loop on what’s going on out there.”

Ensinne smiled. “Happy to be of service and back in the chain of command again, Admiral. My Team and I owe you for doing this.”

“You never should have been put in this position, Commander. And fixing stuff like this is why the Emperor sent me out here. Inform your Team of their new orders and make sure you have everything you need from me before you depart. I don’t have a lot in the way of sneak tech onboard, but I do have some.”

“Sneak tech? Never heard it called that. Tactical Espionage Gear is the term we use.”

“Until recently I wasn’t part of the Empire, so I’m still getting caught up on some of the terminology.”

“About that, sir, if I may?”

Aatroxiss nodded.

“We know High Command runs a lot of propaganda about battlefield losses, and we know how to read between the lines. How did the Keeno fight so well using nothing but aliens?”

“Because we retrained those aliens the same way I’m retraining the Imperial forces in the Frontier. We didn’t just show up on the battlefield an ahka before the fighting started and miraculously turned them into Imperial-killing machines.”

“Does this retraining apply to my Team as well?”

“Not much at the moment, but I’ve already set you on a slightly different path from other Imperial special teams. Right now I need you to use your existing skillset in sync with your conscience. I think you’re effective enough now to get the job done. Upgrades can wait until later.”

“And how did Keeno special teams operate?”

“You weren’t informed by the Empire?”

He shook his head. “No, sir. We never knew you had any.”

“Exactly,” Aatroxiss said, leaving it at that.

A moment later the Commander nodded. “Not kill teams, then?”

“No. But effective in a lot of other stuff never meant to be seen. I can teach you some new tricks later, right now…”

“You’ve got far more pressing matters to deal with, including a treasonous High Admiral,” Ensinne said, standing up. “Thank you, Admiral. I’ll not waste any more of your time as I prep my Team.”

“Dismissed,” Aatroxiss said, with the man smoothly making his way out and disappearing into the hallway.

He hoped he was making the right decision on this, because if old bad habits resurfaced out on Dengorn his little pep talk might not be enough to forestall the kind of bad behavior that neither he or anyone else would ever be aware of. His initial read of Ensinne and his sense of him now said he was capable of learning, but the rest of his Team was a mystery. He hadn’t had a chance to meet any of them to do an evaluation…like so many other things that needed to be done. That made him sending them off a gamble. And for the sake of the people in their way, he hoped he’d gotten the point across that they needed to tread lightly and not across a walkway of victims’ bodies in typical Imperial fashion.

14

“Everything is proceeding as planned, Grand Admiral,” Governor Zein reported from the rebuilt Governor’s palace on Harshoo. “There have been no issues in your absence.”

“Any non-Imperial ship sightings?”

“None.”

Aatroxiss nodded to the hologram over his desk. “How are you settling in?”

“You were right about this being a mental mountain to endure…and I’m enduring. Work on the second settlement is halfway completed, and every new spire that goes up feels like a win. If I can endure long enough, more wins keep piling up. But whenever I have to view images of the workers in the current habitats…it’s unsettling.”

“If there was a faster way to free them I would,” he told the former JagoCorp CEO that he’d hired at great expense to come out here and take over the role of Planetary Governor.

“I never expected Imperial standards to fall so far,” the old man said, raising his chin slightly. “But we’ll eventually get them back to where they should be.”

Aatroxiss nodded his agreement. “I’ve got the first batch of Turook from the research facility I mentioned earlier. They’ll have to go to existing settlements for now, and that will probably not sit well with the rest of the Turook.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Zein said. “We’ve recently located two Turook youth that have, what I’m told, is the potential to develop into a leader variant of their race. They’re in the early stages, but far older adults are already starting to pay deference to them. Per your orders they were not executed and only have been watched. Perhaps one of them can ease the transition.”

“Transmit me their current locations. If everything else is proceeding as planned then I won’t be staying in the system for long.”

“I’ll have that information to you shortly. Welcome back to Harshoo, Grand Admiral.”

“They say you get what you pay for,” Aatroxiss said with a grin. “And you’re a vast improvement over the former Governor.”

He nodded. “I understand the significance of this world to your future plans and I will guard it accordingly. Making profit is challenging and rewarding to a point, then it becomes mundane and boring. You’ve given me a far greater challenge, and I thank you for it…even if my family does not understand it.”

“They see the Frontier as punishment?”

“I had planned a cushy retirement on Axivon with my wife, but the lack of work was not something I could tolerate. My wife didn’t understand then, nor did her relatives. I married into wealth, and they do not understand that someone like me just can’t accept that status quo and indulge in it. I need to work and contribute something to the Empire. My wife is happily remaining on Axivon but wants nothing to do with me. And neither she nor any of her family would ever come out to the Frontier. We’re not legally splitting, but functionally so.”

“Is that a regret or a relief?”

“A bit of both, but my future is no longer something I dread. As long as I can keep my composure amongst this riffraff you call a staff, I have a pathway to something worth pursuing and there are visible benchmarks passing with each day. I’m where I need to be.”

“And planetary governorships are hard to come by,” Aatroxiss added.

“Very hard,” he said with a smile. “Shall I send a shuttle up for you, or will you use one of yours?”

“You can send shuttles to help unload the transports. I’ll find my own way to the surface once you get me those coordinates.”

“You’ll have them momentarily…”

Aatroxiss beat the first transport of Turook to the planet by several ahka, landing his shuttle in a field where the workers were harvesting Brien stalks from a wet field…and by ‘wet field’ he meant there was literally water standing between the rows and a small artificial lake and dam nearby to keep the roots submerged. The Turook walked through it in bare feet, with the mud caching onto their fur until it formed crude boots as they kept the pink grain heads clean and deposited in elevated wagons whose wheels were made to fit into the gap between rows perfectly.

Two Turook would pull the wagon while four others would harvest the plants passing under it, tossing the stalks up and onto the open rear section while another Turook up top would rake them into a 3-walled bin at the front of the wagon that he was also standing in.

It was about as primitive a process as you could get, save for the wagon, and there were teams of Turook all over the horizon working through the fields. When Aatroxiss’s shuttle flew over they could scan the ID markers on the collars the workers wore and he had them set down in a section of field that had already been harvested. The long brown stalks had their tops removed, but the rest was still there to crunch under the landing pads before they sunk into the mud nearly halfway to the underside of the shuttle.

The ramp was far shallower when it lowered and Aatroxiss ran out alone, trudging through the water and mud as he followed a handheld tracker towards his target. They hadn’t landed exactly where the Turook were, but many of them were pausing in their tasks to look back at the Vixot and shuttle that shouldn’t have been here.

He could sense their fear, followed by anger, and began altering the energy around him as he looked for the younger individual’s tracking tag…finding him up top and raking on one of the nearby wagons.

Four other wagons nearby emptied and the Turook rushed to put themselves between Aatroxiss and the young one, with his status as leader being made quite clear already, despite his incomplete brain development.

“I am here to talk only,” he said, modulating the mood as much as he could. “I must speak with the young one,” he said, pointing.

“Are you…Grand Admiral?” one of the blockers asked, getting a few harsh stares from those nearby him.

“I am. I have rescued some Turook that were taken away from this planet and I need the young one’s help to bring them back into your settlements without there being a fight.”

“Move aside,” a meek voice said from behind as the young one dropped down off the wagon in a splash. He had to push his way through some of those more than a head height taller than him, for they didn’t want to move, but he eventually got through and walked a few steps out towards Aatroxiss, who’s head was barely visible over the brown stalks.

“Do you have a name?” the Grand Admiral asked, only having been given an ID number.

“I do. What is yours?”

“Aatroxiss,” he answered simply, already detecting a difference in attitude and intelligence.

“I am known as Gortu. I’m told you kill Turook like me.”

“I don’t. And if any Vixot on the planet does they’re going to be in trouble with me. I’m here to ask for your help.”

“Not command it?”

“Have you heard of the new village?”

“Of course. Everyone has thanks to your learning machines.”

“Which many of you have destroyed,” he added, referring to small kiosks added to all the existing villages with a flatscreen interface so he could transmit information to them directly as well as have some training programs for those not in the new villages. “So I’m not sure how far information has spread.”

“It is known to all of us. Why can you not put the new Turook into your new villages?”

“They are not new Turook, they are old ones taken from here and their offspring. Where they were is far worse than here, which is why I am bringing them back.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a friend of the Turook. Those who ruled here before were your enemies.”

“It’s the same people.”

“Not all are the same, and the ones that are are now follow different orders. I told them not to take your claws. Have they been following that order?”

“Recently,” he said, holding up his declawed hand for inspection.

“I cannot change the past. I came here to fix the future. And I cannot have the Turook I am rescuing brought back here only to be cast out of the settlements or killed by their brothers. I know space is little and you are territorial, but these are your brothers and I am returning them to you. I need your help to make sure they are accepted back.”

Gortu sniffed the air a few times, for what Aatroxiss did not know. “Do they get new food?”

“Everyone does once we can produce enough of it. Changing the factories takes time.”

“I read your words. You don’t want us killing and eating each other.”

“I won’t tolerate it if you do and I find out about it,” he said, altering the conversation slightly.

“You give Turook orders? You tell Turook to accept newcomers back. You don’t need me.”

“If you are to be a leader, you have responsibilities. I have responsibilities for every planet under my command and everyone on them. You have responsibilities not just for the Turook in your settlement, but for all Turook. If you will not honor those responsibilities, you will never be a real leader. I am here to help you do your task by bringing them back to you. Why do you not welcome this?”

“We will have to share food.”

“No, you won’t. When the population of the settlement increases, more will be added. As I build more settlements, the Turook will slowly be transitioned into them. Until then we have to use what we have.”

“All Turook will be in new settlements?”

“Yes. But it takes time to build them, and now that the Vixot here aren’t killing your people, your population is rising faster than normal.”

“Which is why we cannot take outsiders.”

“They are your brothers. Do not call them outsiders.”

“You do not give orders to Turook. You do not give orders to me,” he said, with all those around him growling in agreement.

“Actually, I do. Because I care more about Turook lives than you do, young one.”

“I am Turook, you are not. Go from here. Help you I will not.”

Aatroxiss smiled, and it wasn’t a pleasant smile. With his Kalla reserve having been replenished on the trip here he didn’t need to hold back. One moment the cocky and angry Turook was glaring at him, the next moment he was flying through the air over the stalks and Aatroxiss jumped into the air, landing a heavy punch into his gut that doubled him over.

The Grand Admiral let him fall then, face first down through the stalks and into the mud as angry roars around him signaled sloppy charges through the muck towards him.

He put up two hands and threw them sideways, releasing a ring-like concussion wave that knocked down all the Turook and plants within the area, then rippled out even further through the field. The nearby wagon jerked forward and sprayed pink grain heads out the top, raining down around the wagon as Gortu looked up at him with scared eyes.

The Grand Admiral looked back down to where he lay, hurt, shocked, embarrassed, and totally out of his element. His bravado a moment ago had been nothing more than an act of a learner, trying to fake his way to higher status.

“I could kill you all if I wanted to. I have not because I am a friend of the Turook. If you want to be a true leader, you must learn what that means. It is not that your orders must be followed, it is that you must give good orders and look out for everybody. If you do not help these Turook I am bringing back, then you betray your race and responsibility. Do you want to be a leader, or a failure?” he asked as all the others were slowly standing up, but no longer charging. That wouldn’t last long though.

“You are not Turook,” the youth said, looking up from the puddle he lay in.

“I don’t have to be to help your people. Ignore the past and what has happened. I did none of that. I am the present and the future and I am here to help. The question is do you want to help the Turook race?”

“I want us to be free,” he said defiantly.

“As do I, but if I lower the shield walls and take off your collars, what do you think will happen?” he said, taking a moment to throw a directional wave at one of the Turook that was back on his feet and coming at him. He drove him back nearly all the way to the wagon, then looked back down at Gortu.

“Will they live?” he continued. “Or will they starve to death in the forest? There are other Turook out there that will kill and eat you. All the plants in the forest will quickly be consumed, for you will no longer have the food we provide you. Most of you will die within a year if I let you out. So if I am to save you it must be a different way,” he said, throwing another approaching Turook back as if it was a mere inconvenience. “I did not create this problem, but I have to solve it. And I want as many of you to remain alive as possible. That means I have to free you slowly.”

“You haven’t freed any of us. It is just more lies.”

“Those in the new settlements do not wear collars,” he announced, though those around him didn’t seem to care. Their leader was in jeopardy, but they were also wary of getting hit again with the Grand Admiral’s magic. “In exchange they follow my rules. They live freer lives than most people in the galaxy do, except that they are not free to do stupid stuff to kill themselves. But that’s not the most freedom they’re going to get. They’re going to get more later. They’ll even be able to leave this planet and go other places. But you and they are not ready for that. You must earn it. And right now you, young one, have earned nothing. You do not deserve their,” he said, pausing to throw two more back, “obedience. They are following you because of your biological difference. It tells them you should be smarter than them. That you should look out for them. But you’re saying no to that duty. You’re saying no to looking out for the Turook I am bringing back here. You are betraying their trust in you.”

“Stay back!” Gortu yelled, half standing up and waving a hand at the others. They growled, not liking it one bit, but they didn’t get too close again as the young Turook that was still slightly taller than Aatroxiss stood up, now covered in far more mud than before.

Aatroxiss just stared at him, waiting for a response.

“If you increase our rations, I will help you.”

“I don’t have enough foodstuffs yet to do that across the planet, but I can for the settlements that take in the rescuees.”

“What is that word?”

“It means the people I have rescued. The Turook I am bringing back.”

“You give us more food, we take them into our villages.”

Aatroxiss smiled. “See, you can look out for people when you try. I’ll increase the daily ration by 25%, conditional on there being no problems. That 25% will remain in place until your villages are eventually reworked into new settlements.”

“I will have to travel to other settlements to make them understand. You bring more than one settlement can hold?”

“Yes, but they can all fit into one Precinct,” he said, referring to the shield wall barriers inside the main outer shield wall. “If you help me help Turook, I will let you move around in the Precinct where you want to go.”

“As long as we get the extra food, I will help you.”

“They are coming down to the planet today, and the food will as well. Your work assignment here is over,” he said, hitting a few buttons on a remote control he pulled out of his pocket. With a clank the collar around Gortu’s neck detached but hung in place. Aatroxiss waved a hand and it pulled apart, then flew over his head and onto the ground.

“I am here to free the Turook,” he repeated. “Leadership is complicated. It takes time to learn and you are new. But from now on I need you leading your villages rather than working the fields. As long as you do not attack any of my men, the collar stays off permanently.”

Gortu rubbed his neck, with the matted hair underneath being something he’d never touched except with his fingertips. He’d had the collar on for almost his entire life, and feeling it not be there now was…strange.

“Why do you want our planet?” he finally asked.

“The Empire took it to grow food. I am here to grow food, save Turook, and teach Turook to one day protect themselves. There are others out there that want to kill and eat you. You don’t see it, but my ships up there,” he said, pointing at the sky, “are keeping those people away. This planet is weak right now. I plan to make it strong. That’s what friends do, we help each other grow strong. I am friend of Turook, and will always be. I do not like making you work in fields, but if you do not you and others starve to death. Eventually I will make another way, but that way takes time to build. So right now I am trying to make this planet less bad. I will make it good one day. You have my promise.”

From there on out he and Gortu talked…a lot. And gradually as the day progressed and Aatroxiss moved him around from village to village in his shuttle, showing him things he could only have imagined before, he eventually took him to the new settlement so he could see it in person. He didn’t take him inside, only to the edge, and let him get a glimpse of the future.

When the transports full of Turook started to come down and offload, something strange happened. The Turook started to roar coming off the transports, at least the ones who had been on Harshoo before, and the waiting villages began to roar back. It was a welcoming roar, and not something Gortu had organized.

“You see. They are brothers,” Aatroxiss said, seizing on the moment as a teaching lesson. “Make sure they remain brothers when there are problems.”

“Do you promise me we will all live in new settlements later?”

“I promise you, Gortu. It’s a big planet and will take time, but I have already ordered such things to take place. The construction crews are working now and will continue to work until finished years later.”

“We must wait to get collars off?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You’re still young. Others here have worn the collars for a long time. If I took them all off, they might not know what to do, and they might stop working. If the fields are not producing food…”

“…people starve,” Gortu said, learning fast. “What am I to do when not working?”

“Learn. Learn as much as you can, then teach some of it to the others. But right now, keep them brothers and keep learning. They need you to be wise, but becoming wise takes a lot of time and effort. You are just at the beginning of the path to become a leader, yet they see you as one already. This is a problem when you can’t deliver the wisdom they need. But I can. Use my wisdom, remember it, learn from it, and help the Turook transition from a slave race to a free one that can go out to the stars and free others, as well as protecting your own planet.”

“Will the Empire leave when Turook are strong?”

“When Turook are strong, we will be friends and protect each other. No shield walls, no collars. And Turook will have their own ships. I will show you how to build them.”

“But will you leave this planet to Turook only?”

“No,” Aatroxiss said flatly. “My Empire will still be here, but I expect many Turook will join my Empire by then. So it may be a planet full of Turook with very few Vixot here, but those Turook will be Imperials. So the Empire will not leave, it will change.”

“Turook in Empire? We were told Empire was only Vixot.”

“That’s the Yellow Empire,” Aatroxiss said, having grown accustomed to using the crew’s monikers. “Mine is the Green Empire. The Yellow Empire is your enemy. The Green is your ally. The Emperor commands the Yellow, I command the Green.”

“You fight the Yellow?”

“No. They stay away from here, I stay away from them.”

“If they are enemy, why do you not fight them?”

“I have many enemies. They are less important right now. The biggest enemy to Turook is starvation. I am fighting it now. Aliens want to capture, hunt, kill, and eat you. I am protecting you against that. I have many things to do and many battles to fight. The Yellow Empire stays away and I keep the pieces of it that used to be here that I like and remake them into Green Empire.”

“But why not fight all enemies?”

“Why not plant all fields in a day?” he countered.

The Turook huffed. “I see. Much to do, too few hands.”

“I will have more hands in time. Some will be Turook, some will be aliens, many will be Vixot. I am here to help everybody. That is my duty as leader. Your duty as a future leader is to learn how to be one while helping these rescued Turook reintegrate with the villages.”

“Rescuees,” he repeated, having committed the word to memory.

“Yes. But after some time here they will not be rescuees anymore. They will simply be more villagers and become one with the rest of the Turook again.”

“I understand. We are all one tribe.”

“Yes. And that tribe will have many leaders like you. You should not fight them when you meet them. Find ways to work together to help Turook.”

“There are others?”

“Only young ones like you. They have much to learn as well, and more will arise over time. I am told it is how your race operates.”

“We do not know. It has been a long time since one like I am was allowed to live. All we have is stories.”

“That will make it harder for you, and more important. You must become a good leader, to show all others how to be good. If you become a bad leader and hurt Turook, I friend of Turook, will have to stop you. Do you understand this?”

“If I fail my duty you will kill me.”

“There are other ways to stop people than killing them. Smart leaders find other ways most of the time.”

“But not all?”

“Not all. But lazy leaders like killing, because it is quick and simple. True leaders rarely kill.”

“Just as you did not kill Turook in field.”

“I could have. I have the power to do so. But a leader has responsibilities that others do not see. If you kill people, those people cannot learn and grow and become better. Leaders teach, figure out problems, and show people how to do things they don’t understand. Killing is not the way of leaders.”

“Do you not fight? I saw you fight. I felt it.”

“I am a leader and I am a fighter and a healer and many other things. You need to learn how to be a leader before trying anything else. If you see a situation where you think you need to kill, try to find another way. If your job is to protect, then killing is a failure. Be smart, find other ways to accomplish your objectives.”

“This is why you do not kill Turook?”

“It is.”

“But you could?”

“I could,” he said, pointing at the spires ahead with some Turook climbing up and down the outside ladders as Aatroxiss and Gortu sat on top of the parked shuttle some distance away. “I can also build and teach and protect.”

“Turook respect strength. How do you show strength but not kill?”

“That should be obvious after today.”

“Turook not respect you for today. You not kill them. You not kill them, you are not dominant.”

“Oh really?” Aatroxiss scoffed.

“Empire kills us, we not kill them. They are dominate. They say so.”

The Grand Admiral sighed. “They taught you many wrong things. I’m here to help teach you the right things. Don’t kill each other unless you have to in order to save someone’s life. And even then, try to find other ways. Killing doesn’t make you strong. It makes people fear you. Leaders need people to trust them, not fear them.”

“I am not obeyed for fear or trust. I simply am.”

“Not all Turook will obey you. What happens when one does not?”

“The others kill…” Gortu said, hesitating.

“You see, that’s one of those times you need to find another way. Not everyone will obey you, and they don’t have to. Get enough to trust you and you won’t need the others’ obedience. Those who rule with fear have to have all obey, or others will stop fearing. Those who rule with trust do not need total obedience.”

“You will teach me more of these things?”

“From time to time. I have many other worlds beyond this one I have to save. But I am leaving a special teaching program for you and the other Turook leaders. Learn from it until I see you again. It may be quite a while.”

“Do you leave us soon?”

“Very soon. Many enemies to fight and people to save. I leave here because the Governor and you will help make things a little better while I am gone. And when I am gone, I get reports from the Governor so I know what is happening here. I can send back orders too without actually coming here. I have many planets to watch over, and you have many Turook to watch over. Learn as much as you can so you can watch over them with the most brain strength possible.”

“Brain strength,” he mewed, never having heard that term before. “Strong of knowledge?”

“And wisdom.”

“You know much more than me.”

“Yes, but I started out young too knowing almost nothing. I had to earn my wisdom over time, as will you. Those who do not try to earn it will never be wise. Never be brain strong. It doesn’t happen on its own any more than fields are harvested on their own. You have to work on it for a long time. Even now I work to get more brain strong. The stronger I get, the more I can help Turook and others.”

“I am weak, then,” he said, dejected.

“Yes, but stronger than other Turook in brain. Keep getting stronger and protect them with your brain power. That is the mission of a leader.”

“What about arm strength to punch harder?”

“Work on that too, but it’s less important than brain power. You have many other Turook to punch for you.”

“You are friend of Turook.”

“I am friend of many races, and all races can be my friend if they behave honorably. That is why I have a responsibility to protect all, free all. But I can’t do that if I do not have help. You are my help on this planet along with others. You do your part, I do mine, and Turook become strong. I cannot stay here and do everything myself. The Green Empire is a team. We work together.”

“As Turook work together on a wagon?”

“Yes, but a much larger wagon,” Aatroxiss said with a laugh as he looked at the stars overhead that were starting to win out against the setting sun. “A very much larger wagon…”

15

The trip out of Harshoo didn’t take nearly as long as it had to get to Colony #01, but the Redemption wasn’t going back to Outpost #01. Aatroxiss sent along a courier to carry out further orders, retrieve new information, then to rendezvous with him at an existing colony called Chartrik that was some 8 jumps from Harshoo. It had belonged to Gorgo but had not responded to Aatroxiss’s orders when he sent them out previously with other ships.

And now it was time to find out why.

The light battleship sailed into the system, braking on the central blue/white star and sending out an entry report along with a request for information from the single inhabited system in the planet and its two frigates. He had ordered them to report to him at Outpost #01 previously, cycling one in at a time so he didn’t leave the planet defenseless, but neither had come…and his message now likewise received no reply from either the ships or the planet.

When the Redemption later made a microjump out to the planet and was entering its final coast phase before braking they finally got some sensor readings that confirmed both ships were present in orbit along with a half dozen civilian craft of decent size. Smaller ships and shuttles wouldn’t be visible in reflected starlight until they got closer, but oddly none of them were running transponder beacons, so the Redemption’s crew had to guess based on silhouette size what was what.

“Admiral, they’re moving,” Mahansey finally said as they braked into the planet and began to come in range of active sensors. “I think they’re going to run.”

“Make sure we get at least one of them,” Aatroxiss said from his command chair. “Battle stations.”

Mahansey triggered the status from his own chair and the claxons blared across the ship. “Helm, pick one of the frigates and pursue at maximum thrust. Weapons, stand by to disable and capture it. I do not want serious damage done. Those hulls are paper thin, so only shoot as much as necessary.”

As Aatroxiss watched the pair of ships accelerated away from them around the curve of the planet and were making good speed. This wasn’t going to be a quick catch, which was why he stayed in his command chair and watched as they finished their braking maneuver early by transitioning sideways and using some of their momentum to slingshot them into a pursuit course that gobbled up a lot of the distance. The ship was actually slowing down more than accelerating as it dropped into a matching orbit and pulled hard on the planet like a rope to swing it around to the other side.

The frigates were doing the same, gaining speed while the Redemption was losing it, and after an ahka of maneuvering the light battleship was nearly within weapons range, though its incoming speed had been completely bled off and now it was just an issue of engine power and mass.

Had these frigates been configured for speed the Redemption might not have caught them, but they were standard variants with good engines and a significant amount of firepower as well as advanced sensors and comm equipment that made them good for traffic control and patrols. But the Redemption had been designed for speed, and even without using its emergency gravity drives was slowly gaining on the pair as they headed towards a jumpline between planets…but they were going to have to slow down to a stop on that line to use it.

That’s when they finally split up. One began braking and dropping in towards the planet while the other continued on, making Aatroxiss choose.

“Do you see it?” he asked Mahansey, finally standing up and walking to the large, central hologram on the bridge command deck.

“See what, sir?”

“Their mistake. Now we will get both of them. Are the starfighters ready?” he asked, directing his question to an area of the crew pit.

“Prime squadron is reconfigured with IDF missiles and the pilots are waiting in the ready room.”

“Get them into space immediately,” he ordered.

“Yes, Admiral,” the Hexdra said, turning to snap orders quietly into his headset.

“Are you sending them ahead?” Mahansey asked.

“No. The closer frigate is their target. We move on to the latter.”

“Our fighters can decelerate faster, yes, but it will still be able to jump…oh, I see it now. He chose to go deeper into the gravity well to get more speed coming off it, but that will allow our fighters to block his path on the jumpline.”

“If we move quickly. Weapons Master, I want four IDF missiles fired in sequence at that frigate’s projected intercept with the jumpline and I want them launched as we pass by it so they’re coming in at his bow.”

“Yes, Admiral,” the Hexdra said quickly, for there wasn’t much time to implement the orders.

As Aatroxiss watched the hologram the starfighters started to shoot out the rear of the ship then decelerate even harder, making them seem to zoom away behind them. Within moments all 10 starfighters were away from the battleship and it passed by the jumpline the frigate was slowing towards, effectively out of the confrontation save for the missiles it launched.

It had to fire them backwards, with their acceleration slowing and dropping them down towards the planet. From the frigate’s point of view they didn’t move much, drifting past the jumpline only to move back towards it and come straight down the narrow corridor that would allow an accurate jump to the nearby gas giant in the system. If the frigate tried to jump off the line it would be more difficult and  would have to correct on its way out or catch itself on the destination planet from the side and loop around it until it slowed enough to get under control.

And the missiles were aligning on the very center of that preferred corridor.

The frigate had to move aside slightly or shoot the missiles down. It chose the latter, coming to a near stop and firing ahead, hitting the first two missiles and knocking them out before missing the third for far too many shots. Eventually they hit, not far off the bow, but that left too little time for them to target the fourth missile and it detonated against their shields, blanketing a small part of the ship with an energy goo that took two of their forward gravity drives offline.

That wasn’t enough to stop the jump, however, and the frigate began accelerating up away from the planet as a cloud of smaller missiles started pecking away at it from ahead. The squadron of starfighters were now braking into its path, daring a collision, and firing missiles as they did so.

The frigate adjusted course to move between them, but the fighters were able to move quicker. With each missile hit the frigate’s power reduced, but it was still accelerating. Wisely the fighters started to do so as well, flying backwards and gaining speed as it approached. Their gravity drives were not reduced, so like a small swarm of insects they matched pace with the frigate as it fled the planet, pecking away at it with missiles until it was blanketed with the IDF goo and unable to accelerate further.

It had already reached escape velocity, and was therefore flying away from the planet, firing on the fighters that began shooting back with their blasters while going evasive. The poor gunners on the frigate only managed a few lucky hits, and not enough to take any of them out. Smoke trailed from two T9s by the time the weapons on the frigate were destroyed, but the frigate and fighters both knew that the IDF field was only temporary, and soon the frigate would have its engines back.

“Trian Magona,” the squadron commander said, having left the comms array untouched for a reason, “surrender immediately or we will have to start cutting up your ship.”

As he gave the warning, three of the fighters moved in front of the frigate, blocking its escape path for a weak jump, but the frigate could still slow ram them and they knew it. A fast ram would destroy them all.

“Power down your gravity drives and do not attempt to rebuild your shields. Acknowledge,” he said, knowing his fighters still had a few IDF missiles left in reserve, so the ship wasn’t going anywhere if they had to use them. After that, though, they’d have to damage it enough so it couldn’t go any further…and that wasn’t easy, for the engines were well shielded inside the ship. He’d probably have to kill most of the crew to fully disable it, and even then it would just end up being a floating junk heap with a reactor onboard.

And fortunately the frigate crew knew that as well.

“Trian Magona surrenders,” a voice came back. “We meant no disrespect to the Grand Admiral, but we were under orders.”

“Exactly whose orders do you think overrides his?” the squadron commander, pilot First Class Klendon asked.

“On paper no one’s,” the frigate captain admitted. “But we were ordered to not accept any orders unless they came from Admiral Gorgo’s chain of command, for fear of imposters. You didn’t give the necessary clearance code, so we ran.”

“Yet you know who the Grand Admiral is?”

“We do. We were told not to let our ship fall into his hands.”

“Despite his authority.”

“We knew it was bogus, pilot. But when we’ve got a standing order not to take orders from others, how are we supposed to deal with that without getting shot?”

“The Grand Admiral has forbidden executions. Nobody is getting shot for disobeying orders these days.”

“That’s news to us.”

“Let me guess, the information packet he sent via courier never arrived?”

“The courier did, then it left. We were ordered not to read it.”

“By whom?”

“The Planetary Governor, Desshin Mixon.”

“I find that hard to believe. You had to read some of it.”

“I’m not saying we did…but we learned who the Grand Admiral was. The Governor strictly forbade us from coordinating with your fleet.”

“Governors do not have military rank.”

“They do in Gorgo’s fleet.”

“Gorgo is dead.”

“We were told otherwise.”

“You were lied to. He died onboard his ship when ICAP ended him.”

“I thought you said executions were banned.”

“That order came shortly afterward. Gorgo tried to strongarm the Grand Admiral and even fired on his ship. The guy was insane.”

“But he’s really dead? You can confirm that?”

“Yes, he’s confirmed dead. He was broadcasting live to the Fleet when it happened. Everyone saw it.”

“My apologies, pilot. Even slight disobedience under Gorgo is dealt with harshly, and the Governor speaks for him. We wanted to report to the Grand Admiral, but didn’t dare risk it.”

“You can explain that to him when he comes back to collect you.”

“He’s here?”

Klendon frowned. “That’s his flagship we launched off of.”

“Where’s the rest of his Fleet?”

“He doesn’t travel with a fleet unless he feels like it.”

“Do you want us to move somewhere specific? We can head back towards the planet. We won’t give you any more trouble.”

“Start reducing your speed when your engines come back online. If the Redemption doesn’t have to come get us he might look more favorably on you.”

“Right away. We’re beginning now,” the Commander said, though his ship barely moved at all, for most of the goo was still in effect, but they had a little play.

“Stay with her,” Klendon told his squadron on another frequency. “We might be able to make it back to the planet, but don’t trust this guy. He’s playing nice now, but keep your spacing around him and his path away from the planet blocked.

The fighters formed a cone around the front and sides of the ship as it began braking more and more against the weakening gravity of the planet as it coasted away, but gradually it nulled out all of it and began limping back in, picking up speed as it did with the increasing gravity field.

That said it took a long time to get back to Chartrik, and by the time they did the Redemption was already coming back into orbit with a tractor beam on the other frigate it was towing in, though a large chunk of its hull was missing and billowing out smoke.

“Ouch,” Klendon said to himself. “Guess they were the dumb half of the defense patrol.”

General Hacking received reports from his boarding party that were not good. The frigate’s crew were all dead save for four, and those had been wearing spacesuits when they’d deliberately blown the air lock his troopers were using. Three of them had been killed from either the blast or decompression, with two others wounded. The gaps torn in their suits had self-sealed, but any breach in space was going to do a lot of damage before that safety mechanism could kick in.

He wanted to know how they had blown the airlock, for they just hadn’t opened or detached it. They’d detonated something so big it tore out a whole section of the small ship. Nothing known onboard a frigate could do that short of the reactor overloading, and his reports indicated it was fine.

He stood in a small command center on the Redemption designated for his use as General. It was larger than the workstation he’d had previously as Colonel in charge of only the contingent onboard the ship. Now he was in charge of every trooper in the growing Fleet, and as such he was building a staff here to coordinate when multiple ships were in the same system. Right now it was just his and whoever was on the surface, though they were not responding to requests for information.

That was a future problem to deal with. Right now he had dead troopers and too few answers. The remaining four crew members had fought to the death, taking out another of his troopers in the process. But it was the report on the bodies recovered that was making his blood boil.

Of the standard crew of 16 onboard a frigate, they’d recovered 12 of the bodies…finding that 3 of them were augments. It had been obvious on one whose leg was half torn off, and the sickly yellow/green muscle tissue unnatural to a Vixot had been exposed. That left everybody curious, and now he was learning that there were some odd modifications to the ship’s interior as well…

“Starfighters report their frigate is behaving and also offering an apology to you, Grand Admiral,” the comms officer reported. “They say they had conflicting orders that forbade them from recalling or communicating with anyone from this Fleet.”

“Are there any injuries?” Aatroxiss asked.

“None, sir. The starfighters placed their shots well. All weaponry is offline, but the rest of the frigate appears to be intact.”

“Good. Have the crew completely removed and detained for questioning, and put our own people over there to assess the ship’s status.”

A beep came from his chair, with the Admiral walking back over to it and sitting down.
“Yes?”

“Admiral,” Hacking’s voice said gravely. “We’ve located three augments amongst the crew, and the detonation appears to have been a scaled down nova bomb.”

“What?” Mahansey asked, overhearing from a few steps away.

“Confirm nova bomb,” Aatroxiss said evenly.

“The residue is consistent and we found the extra detonation cores in storage. They trimmed it down and blew the airlock as we boarded,” he said, his voice angry.

Nova bombs were rarely used and created as a weapon boarding parties could use against other ships via suicide or near-suicide missions. You’d carry them onboard, plant them where you wanted, then blow holes in an enemy ship larger than a starfighter squadron could pack into. Such weapons were not standard issue, and even the Redemption didn’t carry any. No ship in the Frontier Fleet was supposed to have any onboard, with each High Admiral possessing a few in reserve on their regional capitals for use in rare circumstances. How a frigate would have one onboard was not only perplexing, but frightening as well.”

“General, the other frigate has surrendered and is cooperating now. I want your people to assume otherwise. Get over there and search it immediately. Use a battle bot for first breach…”

The shuttle held back from the frigate airlock and its hangar bay, scanning the damaged frigate as it voluntarily opened its hangar bay door. That meant they wouldn’t have to breach an airlock, but that didn’t mean they were safe.

The assault shuttle barely fit in the hangar, folding its wings up and above it to slide into the narrow bay, but before the Hexdra in charge of the boarding operation opened the ramp, he triggered a small half-sphere on the outer hull of the shuttle to detach.

It floated on a tiny gravity drive and deployed a series of scanners and weapons from tiny port holes on the curved portion of its body as it moved around the hangar, investigating every crevice before finally heading to the still sealed doorway into the rest of the ship. When it got there it extended a thin arm that scaled outward until it could touch the nearby control panel and press the open button.

The thick door pulled apart and revealed a pair of crewmembers waiting there. The bot floated over in front of them with a swish, aiming weapons at them.

“Do not move,” it said in a deep artificial voice designed to induce compliance in those that heard it.

Both men stood still and raised their hands as the bot covered them while the shuttle ramp lowered and Hacking’s troopers spilled out. The General was watching through the battle bot’s relay and saw his men moving into the ship quickly with the bot following. He eventually lost connection as it moved further in the ship.

“Jennick, report,” he snapped. The inside of an Imperial warship had numerous repeaters set up so signals could make their way to every corridor and room without getting blocked by bulkheads and other obstructions. So losing connection now shouldn’t have been possible unless they’d turned off the repeaters.

He heard nothing for a moment, then one of the troopers came back into the doorway to the hangar and relayed a signal from those on ahead.

“General, repeaters on the ship are down. We have four prisoners, but the rest of the crew are missing.”

“It’s a frigate,” he argued back. “There aren’t many places to hide.”

“I know, sir. We’re working on it. The prisoners say they were short staffed and it’s just the four of them, but I don’t buy that.”

“Nor do I. Keep your armor airtight and clear one room at a time. And I mean every duct, cabinet, and look under every table and nook in them. And have the pilot seal up the shuttle.”

“Where could they go with a shuttle?”

“I don’t care what you think they would do, it’s a weak spot with the ramp still down. Get it up and shields on until we find them.”

“Yes, General,” he said, not completely agreeing with the order, but making sure the pilot complied.

Hacking continued to watch, kicking himself for not going over there, but he’d sent 28 armed and space-armored troopers to deal with a crew of 16. Even if there were augments there, they should be able to handle it if they didn’t split up. His orders had specified that very situation to avoid, but without relays he couldn’t watch what was going on without the troopers using their helmets as relays.

That meant spreading them out.

But Merk Jennick was no fool and he kept the rest of the group together, dropping individual troopers in areas already cleared and using the battle bot to go through suspicious doorways first. The trouble was there were too many turns to keep line of sight, so the signals getting through a wall or two were sketchy, but enough for Hacking to track their positions on a map overlayed with the standard frigate design.

He watched as suddenly there were new contacts appearing…but in the hangar, coming out of a maintenance hatch in the ceiling and dropping to the deck. They used no ropes, just dropped straight down, and somehow avoiding breaking their legs.

Hacking could see their bulky forms in naval uniforms and knew they were augments.

“Pilot,” he said quickly. “Take those targets down now.”

But before he could get the order out the single trooper in the doorway started firing on them and they in turn fired back. He ducked around the corner for some cover as they ran to the rear of the shuttle…only to find the ramp closed.

The augments quickly moved around to the pilot access door in the cockpit, only to find a shield covering it…then a nodule on the underside of the shuttle dropped down and started spraying blaster bolts into their legs.

Hacking knew Aatroxiss might not like that, but their shuttles weren’t equipped with stun weaponry. He’d have to make a note of that and request some custom upgrades.

Two of the flurry of blasts hit, taking one augment down while the other three jumped up on top of the shuttle…only to slide off it. The shields made it slippery, but as they fell they jumped and ran towards the doorway. The trooper took one down, but the other two got there and pummeled him with hand to hand blows. Hacking had to watch from the shuttle as his trooper was overpowered and then shot multiple times at pointblank range.

The other two augments were climbing to their feet and limping towards the door, but even before he could order it the pilot finished them off in a hail of inaccurate shots at nearly stationary targets. Their unarmored bodies ripped apart under what would be the equivalent of rifle fire, then they dropped in a gory mess to the deck and didn’t move again.

“Jennick!” Hacking yelled into the comm, but no one answered. All he was getting was intermittent dots on the map from his men’s transponders, including the downed trooper’s that indicated he was injured and had no heartbeat.

Jennick should have seen that too, and within a few mitos all the dots further into the ship started to fall back towards the downed trooper. Where the augments were, however, was unknown…

Battle bot TRO-992863 had been given standing orders prior to the engagement, and without any direct orders to contradict them from a trooper or remotely by Hacking, it reacted to the downed trooper signal immediately, flying high over the heads of the troopers in their freshly painted green armor and passing them by. It navigated the hallway turns with reverse tractor beams, bouncing off the walls to maintain speed as it raced ahead, passing by some of the troopers still holding position to act as relays.

TRO was more massive than a trooper, but more compact as well, approximately twice their width but only half again as tall. The hemispherical bot got to the hangar entrance first, sighting the downed trooper and immediately querying the bot brain in the shuttle, receiving a quick update and confirming the enemy troops had not retreated in there, so it began a patrol search of the immediate area, turning down a side hallway and speeding along sensors extended.

It put out strong pulses, enough to get through a wall and most doors, scanning rooms as it passed in a limited sense. Biological tissue responded differently to the scans and it got a ping on the third door down on the left. It extended an arm and hit the open button on the doorjamb, finding it locked, then fired 6 blasts into the mechanism, frying it, then using a tractor beam to pull the door upwards.

The counterweight made it easy, and TRO was into the room just in time to see an augment slide down into a panel on the floor and disappear. It flew over to the spot and looked down, seeing a shallow floor below in what was a crawl space.

“Merk Jennick, targets are moving through maintenance shafts in the floor,” it reported when a trooper came up behind him and completed the comm link to the others. “All searched areas should not be considered clear.”

“There’s no hatch on the blueprints,” he said via comm.

“One has been added. The cuts are professional. This was done prior to this engagement. The blueprints are now inaccurate.”

“Drek. Did you get that General?”

Silence answered him until he sent another trooper back to the downed one’s position.

“Jennick?”

“Here, sir. They’ve cut new passageways in the floors with hidden access. Our blueprints are no longer accurate.”

“Do you still have the four prisoners?”

“They’re unconscious in a nearby room…drek, let me check.”

He sent a trooper over to that ‘cleared’ room to find them, but they were all gone.

“Negative, General. The prisoners are missing.”

“Retreat back to the hangar and seal up the access hatch they used to get in, and look for others.”

“I think they’re using the surveillance system, but the bridge controls say it’s non-functional. They may have rerouted physical lines. We also can’t get the repeaters working, but engines appear operational. I don’t know how they could be hiding 16 people between decks, sir. The ship isn’t that big.”

“Standby in the hangar. The Grand Admiral is coming over to personally deal with the situation.”

“There’s no room in the hangar, sir, and we can’t totally trust the airlocks. Should I secure one of them?”

“Negative. Hold position. Is your downed trooper alive?”

“No, sir. He’s not responding to the revive pack.”

“Keep trying until the Grand Admiral arrives. That’s his order.”

“Yes, sir,” Jennick said, running back to where the trooper was down with two others nearby shaking their heads at him.

“He’s gone, sir.”

“Try again. Admiral’s orders.”

“It’s no good. He has no pulse.”

“Keep at it and stop arguing with me! The Admiral is coming over here and he said to keep at it. Do you want to explain to him why you’re not?”

“Yes, sir,” the trooper said, triggering a small handled device on top of the breach in the trooper’s stomach armor where the shots had gotten through the most. It sent adrenaline and a few other chemicals into the trooper’s body along with enhanced clotting materials to try and stave off excess bleeding. Each time he did the trooper’s heart would beat one or two times, but wouldn’t continue on its own.

Per orders he kept doing it until the pack was empty, then he used another until a pair of boots ran up to him and a hand pushed him aside.

That hand pulled off the opposite armored glove and his red hand dove down onto the dead trooper, right into the gory pit of his stomach.

“What are you doing?” the shoved trooper demanded.

“Quiet,” the man said back, only belatedly realizing it was the Admiral when he heard his voice, for he was wearing full armor, including the helmet, and there was no ID tag indicating his trooper number.

The two troopers near the downed one looked at each other, then across the hangar bay, seeing another shuttle sitting in space with its ramp open just outside the forcefield that kept the bay’s air in.

The Admiral must have jumped off it to get into this hangar, hence the full armor.

The icon showing red on their maps suddenly went yellow as the trooper’s heart began beating again.

“What the fren?” the other trooper asked.

The now blood-coated hand pulled back out, purple on red skin, and he flicked it sideways, splattering the wall while his hand somehow was left completely clean. He pulled off his helmet and pointed down at the trooper.

“Get him onboard your shuttle and get it back to the ship immediately.”

“What did you do, Admiral?”

“Move!” he yelled angrily as the two troopers were standing still awestruck.

“Yes, sir,” the other said, grabbing the wounded one by the shoulders, then the second grabbed his feet and carried him away while Merk Jennick stood patiently behind Aatroxiss.

“Your orders, sir?”

“Get my shuttle out of the way and this one moving,” he said, tossing his helmet aside and pulling off his armor piece by piece, littering the floor with it. “I’m going to hunt down the augments.”

“We can’t find them. They’re hiding between decks and comm repeaters aren’t working.”

“I can see them, Merk,” he said, giving him an ironic glance.

“Through the walls, sir?”

“If they’re alive, I can see them. There are three groups, one of which is mobile,” he said, pulling off his last boot. He reached a hand behind him, using the Kalla to drag a small satchel of gear that he’d dropped once entering the bay to him. In it he had a pair of flex boots to replace the armored ones, a pair of pistols, and a few other odds and ends. “Keep all your men here. The bot comes with me.”

“Affirmative,” it said, swooshing in closer to his side.

“I’m also seeing 22 people, not 16,” he noted, pulling on his boots and standing up. He latched them up tight, then brandished his two pistols. “Scan for any sign of nova bombs. I’m guessing they don’t have one here, but they could just be holding back because they have a VIP onboard. If there is one, finding it is your top priority. Begin search pattern now.”

“Affirmative,” it repeated, then floated out ahead of Aatroxiss as off to the side the troopers were covering an open maintenance hatch in the ceiling with three rifles.

The Grand Admiral leapt into motion, disappearing down a different corridor than the one the battle bot was traveling, and quickly came to a side room that had 8 people in it. He stooped in front of the door, placed a hand on the wall, and tried to see as much as he could on the other side.

There was a low object on the floor near the door, and it looked wrong. It took him a while, but he finally resolved it in his mind’s eye to be an overturned table set as a barricade. That meant going through the door would be walking into a trap.

It wasn’t an important part of the ship, just the galley, and would normally be one of the last places swept by a boarding team. He stepped up beside the door and reached over to the control panel, tapping the open button while keeping the wall between him and the room. It failed to open.

He was about to force it open when he heard firing coming from another part of the ship and ran off towards it. He got there just in time to see the battle bot take down someone before the top of it blew into pieces and the technological carcass dropped to the floor in smoking bits.

Aatroxiss sprinted through the smoke and dove towards the men firing at it. He took a few hits on his shields, but was able to get several stun shots back into the men before they realized the threat he posed. Two dropped while a third ran, and Aatroxiss didn’t let him go. He sprinted after him and reached out with the Kalla, putting him in a vice grip and pulling him back his way. When the two collided the Grand Admiral punched him in the face, hard, while disarming the man in a quick combo of arm movements.

The augment went flying into a wall then dropped to the ground, springing up and jumping towards Aatroxiss…who stunned him twice, then had to exchange a few more blows and shots before the man finally went down.

He stunned him four more times, then ran back to the others just as they were beginning to get up. He let loose with his pistols and stunned them so much they wouldn’t be reviving quickly again.

Aatroxiss went back and grabbed the first one, putting him over his shoulder and running him back to the hangar and dumping him at Jennick’s feet.

“Restrain this one,” he said, taking back off to get the others before their biological enhancements negated the stun effect and brought them back into the fight.

As he ran around the ship he was constantly reevaluating his decision to be here. If they had a nova bomb and were going to use it, they already should have. But was he wrong about that? Were they saving it and about to blow it up in his face? His shields wouldn’t protect him from that, and if they blew open the hull in another area he’d have very little air to work with without his armor…that he’d taken off to move better. Putting his shields over his clothing was tricky enough, putting it over armor even more so.

Once he got the last of the four augments back to the hangar he skipped the room with the barricade and tracked down a group of three between decks. They weren’t moving, but laying flat between floor and ceiling. The hatches they had cut into the floor were very hard to see, and not something they could have done within the last few ahka. That meant this ship had to have been modified previously by engineers with tools that the ship’s crew didn’t have. Their engineer could make field repairs to stuff, but cutting fine lines and creating new concealed doors was too much to expect from the frigate’s limited crew.

So if this ship had been modified, why? It was carrying more than 16, and including the two dead guys in the hangar bay it had 6 more people than normal. Were those extra crew or passengers, and where was their shuttle? It should have been in the bay blocking their approach, but it was gone. All warships, even corvettes, carried at least a tiny shuttle. The Redemption had several given its larger size, and the only true starships that didn’t carry them were cutters and gunboats…or custom-designed larger ships. Even a battlecruiser that was designed entirely for ship to ship combat and nothing else had a single large hangar to allow for shuttle entry. Otherwise you had to use the airlocks and dock with another station or ship…and maneuvers of objects that large with such precision were usually avoided due to the likelihood of a mistake causing a collision.

Shuttles were the lifeblood of transit to and from warships, and if this frigate’s shuttle was gone, where was it and who was flying it? Did this ship have more than 22 crew onboard for some reason? Had the shuttle been confiscated by someone on the planet? Or had the frigate been sent to guard this planet without a shuttle…which would be in violation of Imperial Regs. But then again, Gorgo creating his own empire out here was about as big of a violation as you could get, so did they just not care about the smaller ones?

It was the possibility of a nova bomb onboard that was really bothering him, but also the fact that these augments were acting like special teams. Commander Ensinne had said they’d been ordered to train them, but the ones on the planet were not so impressive. Aatroxiss guessed their training hadn’t been complete and these augments were what Gorgo had envisioned…and this between decks evasion and counterattack was definitely not something standard troopers would ever consider doing.

But special teams…yeah, this was definitely in their playbook. So why were they playing this game instead of blowing up the ship? He was counting on them not having a nova bomb, but if there was some other reason they were behaving differently than the crew on the other frigate…well, it could be a life ending mistake on his part.

He could see where the three people were below him, lined up in a tunnel, so he used the Kalla to pull on the floor plates from beneath. Manifesting it through material was another tricky technique that had taken him a long time to develop, but it was useful now as he pushed up from within the tunnel, looking for a hidden hatch.

He walked the length of the room doing so, thinking that there was none here until he finally got to the wall and a step away from it he heard a click as the floor rose a hair’s width then stopped.

Aatroxiss smiled. It was locked, but this was definitely a hatch. He summed up a larger Kalla amount from his body and used it like a reverse det charge, blowing the hatch up and breaking the lock.

Hidden hinges rotated it around and it smacked into a chair so hard it snapped the metal legs off, and Aatroxiss saw the three Kalla images of people beneath the floor begin scurrying the opposite way.

He grabbed two of them, projecting off each hand, and dragged them through the tunnel and up into the room. He had to mentally produce another Kalla tentacle to grab the weapon out of the first one’s hand and throw it across the room, but again, multitasking Kalla manifestations was a long practiced skill. One that had taken him over 10 years to develop even the most rudimentary efficiency with.

The third person got away, but he brought the two up into the air and held them there as they squirmed. Judging from their bodies, neither were augments, but their anger levels matched enough that he wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t.

“Talk,” he ordered, leaving their throats clear as he gripped their torso and arms together in invisible shackles as he let their feet hit the floor.

When both refused he threw them against a clear wall and held them there, glaring at both of them as he looked around, seeing if anyone else was on their way here. There wasn’t.

“I am Grand Admiral Aatroxiss, the rightfully appointed ruler of the Frontier on the Emperor’s personal order. You are supposed to obey the chain of command, and no one outranks me except the Emperor. Explain your disobedience.”

“We’ll never follow a Keeno,” one of them groaned. The other turned to look at him, his eyes going wide, which was when Aatroxiss noticed they didn’t have the right color.

He stepped over to the man and held his head back against the wall, pulling his eyelids open slightly with the Kalla while remaining a step away from him. Gone were the yellow irises all Vixot had. Instead they were replaced with a pale green that almost matched, but it wasn’t right. As he looked closer he saw tissue differences.

“You’re augments too, just different parts,” he pronounced, letting the man’s head go and checking the other. “But you’re not.”

“Mine are inside,” he said defiantly.

Aatroxiss switched his hold on them from his hands to his single left hand, producing both Kalla tentacles from it while he pulled one of his pistols off his right hip. He stunned both of them multiple times, then picked up both of the smaller, lighter men and carried them one over each shoulder back to the hangar and dumped them hard on the floor.

“These are both augments, but not with muscle tissue. It’s possible all of them are. Contact the General and have him assume all the crewmembers from the other frigate are augments until we medically clear them.”

“Yes, sir,” Jennick said. “Fourteen left here, sir?”

Aatroxiss nodded. “Caught these two between decks. There was a third with them but he got away. Be patient and I’ll get the others. Any activity?” he asked, glancing at the ceiling.

“None yet,” he said, standing in front of a different shuttle. The larger assault shuttle was gone, and one sitting in the bay now was the standard shuttle that brought Aatroxiss across to the frigate. His personal pilot was inside.

“Heavily restrain these men and send them back on my shuttle back with four troopers. Bag up the bodies and send them too. Also, I need a volunteer.”

“Happy to help, Admiral.”

“Not you, Merk,” he said as two more troopers stepped forward and saluted. He pointed to the one on the right. “You, come with me.”

The trooper jogged behind the fast walking Aatroxiss back into the frigate’s interior and they headed for another glob of people, yet these were not between decks.

“Is your weapon set for stun?”

“It is,” the green helmeted trooper said, holding his rifle in two hands across his chest.

“In there,” he pointed to the room he had just been in, “is an open access port to their tunnels. Make sure no one comes out of it or passes through beneath. Take one of the chairs and set it down in the tunnel. If it moves, it will alert you to someone there. Otherwise stay hidden and stay quiet. I might flush one your way.”

“Send as many as you want.”

Aatroxiss shook his head. “It’s a single man tunnel. You stun one you plug it up. I can pull them out later. You just hit the first guy to come through and he becomes the plug.”

“Got it,” the trooper said, disappearing into the door that Aatroxiss had pointed at while the Grand Admiral took a turn to the right down a short hallway. He guessed the tunnel led to this room, though he couldn’t know for sure unless someone was in it. The door was locked, and as he stood to the side, his back against the wall while pressing the buttons futilely, he felt for the locking mechanism inside the wall.

His touching the outside helped his Kalla energy finely penetrate and give him some feedback, and he’d learned early in his Keeno training how to picks locks and the mechanism that operated doors. He knew what to look for, otherwise he would have been at this for over an ahka, but when he found the necessary lever he surged Kalla inside the wall and lifted it up, groaning against the small motor that moved it and was now locking it in place.

He hit the open button again, and this time the door swooshed up into the ceiling.

Immediately he saw people moving inside, but no shots were fired out at him. They couldn’t see him yet, but that just felt odd.

“Identify yourselves,” he yelled, not yet poking his head around. He wished he had a quick look inside to know what he was dealing with.

When no answer came he covered himself with his invisible shield and ducked across the doorway to the other side of the corridor. As he did so he looked in, then the wall flashed before his face again.

But it was enough. The two shots that came out towards him both missed late, but he could see the group of crew with weapons raised waiting for someone to come through the door so they could mow them down.

He could walk in there, absorb all their shots, and stun them unconscious in a few mitos, but he’d eat up a lot of his Kalla reserve to do it, and that was a bad idea. He needed another way, and so far none of them were escaping down into the floor or elsewhere. There were 5 of them here, plus one elsewhere in the tunnels, and 8 in the other room with the barricade.

“I have more than enough troops to take you down. Why not just surrender and make this easy?”

“Keeno don’t take prisoners,” one of them shouted back. “Your Grand Admiral will have us all executed anyway.”

“He issued a Standing Order that executions were banned in the Frontier. I guess your masters never relayed the message. You’ve been lied to. Surrender now and you won’t be killed.”

“You think we’re gonna believe that? Just come on in here and get it over with.”

Aatroxiss sighed and concentrated. They were standing on the far side of the room and a little out of his range for a pull through a wall, but it was worth a try. He kept his back pressed against the wall and extended his Kalla through it, then thought better of it and snaked it sideways through the doorway and into the room. That used more power than a direct line emission, and as he reached out a single tendril towards one of the glowing individuals in mind’s eye he hit something.

He couldn’t actually see what he was doing, but whatever he knocked over exploded so hard the entire room shook and debris flew out through the door, bounced off the far wall and ricocheted back into him. His shields caught it, but his lungs still had to breathe and he backtracked down the hallway into better air.

“Drek,” he said, not having any idea what had exploded.

“Sir?” the trooper said, coming into view around a corner.

“I’m fine,” Aatroxiss said, coughing twice. He glanced back in the direction of the room and saw the last lingering traces of glow from the people in there fade out. They were all dead and unrecoverable. Even if their bodies were still in one piece they were no longer inside them, thus they couldn’t be revived.

That left the one roaming individual and the 8 in the room.

“Nine left, eight of which are barricaded in pretty tight. Let’s go get the other one first,” he said, motioning for him to come as he tracked the glow in the floor to the room it was now hidden beneath. Like last time he searched for an access panel but found none.

“Ok, this is going to get bumpy,” he said, walking over above the spot where he sensed the person.

“Sir?”

“Not for us,” he said, pointing to the floor. “For him. Head back to the spot you were before. I’m going to drag him there.”

“How?”

“If I’m close I can move him,” Aatroxiss said, pointing his right hand down to the floor and gripping through it. He moved the man a little, then his arms and legs reached out to brace himself against stuff in the irregular corridor.

“Yeah, he’s fighting me,” he said, moving him back and forth, knocking him into whatever was available to try and get him to let go. He managed to snag an arm that was temporarily free and clamped it to his torso inside his invisible grip. That left one to latch on and legs to catch.

As the trooper left, Aatroxiss kept banging his catch around, yanking him this way and that until the man’s fingers gave out and slipped. As soon as he did Aatroxiss grabbed that arm and pinned it straight out in front of him like a pole and gripped it as hard as his body…then he levitated him a ditta (2.1 inches) off the ground and flew him through the hidden tunnel.

All of this was frenning hard without being able to see what he was doing, so he went slow so he didn’t lose his grip and have to repeat all this. When he got to the side of the room and a wall he couldn’t move himself through, he concentrated on just keeping the man locked in place, then slowly backstepped across the room, out the door, down the corridor, and into the next room without having his hold slip.

Then he got over to the spot on the wall where the guy was waiting and moved him underneath the floor again until he got to the other side of the room, then repeated the technique until he had dragged him all the way to the trooper, who stunned him the moment he saw the extended hand hit the chair.

“Pull the chair out,” Aatroxiss said, too exhausted to do it himself as he still held onto the man. When it was clear he moved his torso into view and the trooper stunned him enough that Aatroxiss no longer had to hold him in check.

The man’s body slumped to the ground inside the tube as Aatroxiss nearly did likewise in the room, sitting down on the floor and holding his head in his hands. “Pull him out.”

“Are you ok, sir?”

“Have you ever lifted more weights than was wise? That’s what this feels like,” he said as the crewmember’s limp body was hauled out beside him. He had muscle enhancements for sure, and that extra weight had made Aatroxiss’s job even harder.

“Eight more?”

“Yeah. Give me a mito, though,” he said, stunning the man three more times with his pistol. “Take him back to the hangar.”

“On it, Admiral,” the trooper said, picking up the heavy man with far more grace than he’d imagined possible. This trooper was stronger than he looked.

“Ow,” he said to himself when he was alone. Controlling the Kalla took a unique type of brain power, and even though his reserve level hadn’t depleted much, the control circuits in his brain had been overtaxed. He’d miscalculated how hard and lengthy that trick would be, and had barely been able to sustain it to the end. If this was going to become a normal tactic to evade capture, then he was going to have to have some crawl bots reconfigured into battle bots, because he wasn’t doing that again.

By the time the trooper returned to him empty handed Aatroxiss wasn’t much better, but he also wasn’t going to go charging into the next room either, so he stood up and walked through the ship to the bridge with the trooper in tow. He sat down in the empty captain’s chair and brought up the ship schematic on the display console. The room they were in was still labeled the galley, and the secret passages weren’t added onto the ship’s blueprints.

He flipped through several menus before hitting a code prompt. Aatroxiss used his priority codes and got through, again wondering why Gorgo’s people hadn’t changed them to lock him out. Maybe that required higher level coders than he had, but it still seemed like an oversight. Then again, he would have only had to worry about the High Admirals and their lesser codes, not those equivalent to what the Emperor had. So maybe he was just getting lucky.

He ran through ship logs, including supply shipments, and could find no mention of a nova bomb ever being brought onboard this ship…but there was mention of passengers, of the unwilling variety, who had been brought onboard a little more than a sulo ago. That was after he had arrived in the system but before his battleship had gotten to the planet. The logs also stated that their shuttle had been confiscated by the Planetary Governor after it had delivered the passengers to the ship.

“Find something, sir?”

“Yes. What’s your name, trooper?”

“Jaro Chaddo Menthis, sir. I’m new to the Redemption. You picked me up on Colony #01 and the General cleared me for duty.”

“You’re one of the augments?”

“Yes, sir. But my loyalty is to you, not this scum.”

“What do you make of their reaction?”

“I’d guess they were trying to avoid detection and using four regular crew as a diversion. Then they could have stayed on the ship undetected after capture or quietly moved to other ships.”

“Is that a technique you were taught?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And these tunnels?”

“I was never taught anything about making them onboard a starship, sir. But our training wasn’t complete either.”

“Were you taught to hate the Keeno?”

“All the Empire hates Keenos, no disrespect intended. But if the Emperor ended the hunt for you, he has his reasons. Still, old habits die hard, if you’ll excuse the metaphor.”

“Were you told I was a Keeno before I showed up?”

“No, sir. We didn’t know there was even a Grand Admiral’s rank.”

“I got the impression that these augments have been fed a lot of lies concerning me, and they know I’m a Keeno. Do you know any procedures or codes that will get the last of them to stand down?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. I can go persuade them if you want,” he said, hefting his rifle for emphasis.

“If they’ve been fully trained that’s not a good idea, is it?”

“None of them have been wearing armor,” he pointed out.

“Is that normal?”

“If they were trying to impersonate a frigate’s crew, probably. Though I barely fit into this set. We were told we’d get custom armor eventually. Maybe they never got theirs.”

Aatroxiss sighed. “I don’t want that last room blown up. Get back to the hangar and tell General Hacking we might have a hostage situation and I want his best options of getting that room under control. At the minimum I need a bore drill camera.”

“Yes, Admiral,” the augment trooper said, hurrying off the bridge.

He hadn’t realized any of them had cleared checks yet, but if Hacking thought they were safe enough to incorporate into his unit, well, every trooper saved was one less that had to be recruited and trained later. But he was still a little surprised Hacking hadn’t informed him of that fact.

Then again, Hacking hadn’t expected the Admiral to join in on this boarding party either.

It took a lot of time to get a special demolitions team over to the frigate, but the people in the chamber weren’t doing anything other than waiting. Aatroxiss had used the ship’s internal communications to speak to the room, but without response. The internal repeaters, however, had not just been turned off, but destroyed somewhere in the hardware network that ran through the ship, so his troopers were still having limited communications with each other by the time a three-man trooper team arrived wearing heavy backpacks.

One of them pulled out a small worm-like device and began drilling through the wall rather than the door, and soon Aatroxiss had a picture of the inside of the room viewed through a camera the size of a spec of dust. It was so small that those in the room wouldn’t have seen it coming through the wall unless they were looking directly at the breach point, and probably not even then. It was designed to not push material out into the target area, instead pulling back the debris into the channel and allowing the tip to just dimple out allowing the camera to see in all directions.

“Four men, four hostages,” the trooper with the display narrated as a flatscreen image appeared for Aatroxiss to see. The four hostages were bound and gagged, sitting in chairs along the far wall behind the barricade and the troopers. The barricade itself was tables and cabinets and several grenades set to explode on the door side, throwing shrapnel that way and not back into the troopers.

“Canister grenades,” the trooper explained. “Directional proximity charges, or they can be…”

“…detonated by movement to the grenade itself,” he said, probably solving the mystery as to what he’d accidentally knocked over to kill those five holdouts.

“Ok, now this is easy,” he said, drawing helmeted looks at him. This was about as bad of a hostage situation as you could get.

“I’ll detonate the grenades prematurely, then you guys run in and stun everything.”

“They could still kill the hostages, sir.”

“When you enter, I’ll disrupt the shooters for a moment. If you’re quick, the hostages will be fine.”

“We won’t be able to see well after the blast.”

“Neither will they. The smoke will mess with their infra-red vision…assuming that’s what some of these augments have. When you enter the room, swing around to the left and approach that way.”

“The hostages are on the right, sir.”

“Yeah, and so is my line of sight. This is going to be hard enough through the wall as it is, if you step in the way I’ll lose contact. I’m going to grab their weapons and try to pin them in place. Before they know what’s happening…”

“…we stun them,” Jennick said with a nod. “But when the grenades blow you’ll lose the camera.”

“If I grab the guns first I won’t need the camera, so long as I can hang on. I can’t guarantee more than a mito or two.”

“That’s all we need, sir, if you can really provide it. I still don’t have a handle on what Keenos can and can’t do.”

“That’s on purpose. I’m sharing information with you guys because we’re on the same side now. The less the enemy knows of our abilities, the better.”

“Understood, sir,” Jennick said with a touch of pride in his voice. “Single offset line, six troopers behind me. Admiral, we need to make sure we get the door open first, but an explosive charge might trigger the grenades. It’ll take a few ahsho to hack it at most.”

“Get started,” he said, with another backpack trooper moving to the control panel and prying it off, then attaching a set of wires linked to a dataslate. The locks on the doors were all electronic, so if he could rig it to follow his commands rather than the buttons on the inside, the door would open quite easily.

Aatroxiss used the delay to feel into the room, making sure not to come anywhere near the grenades as he mentally got tiny holds on the rifles of the four troopers. Not enough to move them or hold them in place, but to let him know where they were so he could increase his contact quickly and point them at the ceiling or floor or even at their own legs. He wasn’t going to be able to yank them free, for his pulling power was greatly reduced through the wall and like the trooper between floors, their grip would be too much to override easily.

“Ready when you are, sir,” Jennick said, lining up with a trooper on his right shoulder half a step back and the others staggered as well into a line one and a half shoulder lengths wide.

“I want you to trigger the door exactly when I say,” Aatroxiss said, knowing that the explosion might damage the mechanism that would be opening it. He would let it start to move up before he hit the nearest grenade of the five they had wedged into the barricade heap. With a fifth tendril he reached out, using the camera to guide his movements, until he was in faint, non-moving contact with the grenade.

“Now,” he said, waiting until the door cracked slightly before toppling the grenade over.

It exploded, kicking out a little debris underneath the door as it rose up, with smoke billowing out as Jennick was the first in. Aatroxiss, his tendrils to the four rifles still intact even though the camera was now useless, either destroyed or blacked out from smoke, tightened his grip on them and pointed the ends down hard.

One man actually fell forward, the weight of the pull taking him off balance. The others struggled, wondering what was wrong with their arms…then multiple stun flashes hit them and they dropped to the ground almost in sync.

Aatroxiss held onto the weapons a moment longer until he could feel the resistance go away, then dropped them and rubbed his head again, listening for the troopers to report.

“All down, Admiral,” he heard through the comlink on his collar as he coughed, for the smoke coming out was still quite thick. “Grab them and go! Get them out of the smoke! Move, move, move!”

A moment later the first of the hostages was carried out, still gaged and bound, and moved down the corridor towards Aatroxiss and a bit past him. The air purifiers on the ship detected the smoke and ramped up their fans to maximum, sucking some of it in and the air started to clear, but it was still hazy gray by the time the last of the hostages were out and they started piling the downed troopers, now in cuffs, out in a separate area of the corridor…all the while their helmets protected them from the smoke.

Aatroxiss coughed again, regretting he’d left his in the hangar bay, but glad this room had been cleared successfully. He let the troopers start to remove the gags and cuffs on the hostages as he twisted around and sat, back leaning on the corridor, as his head continued to remind him how stupid he had just been.

But when stupid saves lives, he’d take the pain in exchange.

16

He got back to his quarters nearly three ahka (3.6 hours) later, only to find Illana waiting for him on the couch watching a holovid and munching on what looked like Aiun snacks.

“At least you’re dressed this time,” he said, sitting down next to her and grabbing two of the short, doughy kabba (chocolate) -filled cylinders and eating them with a wince.

“You get hit?” she asked, still munching.

“Imagine head-slamming the wall a few hundred times and that’ll get you close to what it’s like to overtax your mental control. It doesn’t matter how much power you have available for the delicate stuff. Your brain and senses have to operate it.”

“I know brained fried, believe me. What took you so long? I’ve been waiting to talk to you for two ahka.”

“The hostages were not hostages. They’re members of the Devonak family in league with the Planetary Governor. The augments tied them up to keep them quiet when we boarded, and they were quite upset when we untied them.”

“So?”

“Because they were upset, they were willing to talk…and talk…and talk. After I get some rest I’m heading down to the planet to deal with the Governor.”

“Did they say anything useful?” she asked as a pair of Vixot on screen were moving in to kiss and she paused it just before contact.

Aatroxiss eyed the holovid and she waved off his suspicious look.

“All the augments on the planet were moved to the frigates and were supposed to get them out of the system if we didn’t play nice. The regular crews were mostly transported down to the planet. The nova bomb had been a gift from Gorgo to compensate for so few ships being posted here. They thought it would somehow destroy another ship when fired at them and were wondering why the other frigate hadn’t used it to destroy us.”

“You’re serious?”

“Afraid so,” he said, grabbing another Aiun.

“So Gorgo bluffed them? Nova bombs can’t be fired in missiles.”

“Their knowledge of the military is considerably lacking. They were sent out here before they fell out of favor with the rest of their family, but the Devonaks still needed some ties out here for business purposes.”

“Devonak,” she corrected him. “They use their base name as singular and plural.”

“The Devonak wanted to divulge every bit of dirt on their escorts and the Governor, so I had a recording bot brought in while I half listened.”

“And probably wanted to shoot them halfway through?”

“Well before halfway,” he said, leaning his head back on the headrest. Illana reached out and ran her fingers over his forehead.

“That actually helps,” he mumbled, letting her continue.

“Old trick I learned. You can do it to yourself, but it works better if you don’t know the finger movements. It let’s your brain focus on something small while it works on the rest, otherwise it just locks down and feels like a painful rock in your head. Didn’t the Keeno teach you anything like this.”

“Like this? No. We were taught not to overtax ourselves.”

“Bad student then?”

“I’ve surpassed the Keeno.”

“How so?”

“I’m not the follow orders blindly type. I have to understand the reason behind them, and a lot of their reasons didn’t make sense, so I filled in the blanks and made adjustments.”

“I bet they didn’t like that.”

“I got exiled.”

“I remember,” she said, making little patterns on his forehead like she was fingerpainting. “Do you usually get headaches like this?”

“Only when the need arises.”

“And what was the need this time?”

“The augments were hiding in tunnels between decks. Tunnels so small a person had to crawl through them. I didn’t feel like killing them, so I dragged them out using the Kalla.”

“And that was hard why?” she asked, having watched him use it in workouts quite often. It thoroughly amazed her and the crew now that he let them watch some of his drills, but not all. Apparently the more intense ones he didn’t want anyone around for.

“I need line of sight. Projecting through material is very mentally taxing. The Kalla doesn’t affect matter unless you want it to, that’s how I can see people through walls. But if I want to make it do something I have to exert control, and the thicker the material the more difficult it is.”

“What happens if somebody walks in front of you when you’re using it?”

“I either have enough control to maintain it through the disruption or I lose control.”

“So you racked your brain to save an augment that otherwise you would have had to kill?”

“No, I could have just let them stay there until they ran out of food. I just don’t like being patient unless I have to be. I can’t believe how much that helps.”

“Told you,” she said, tapping his nose once in the process. “Code monkeys get screen fried all the time. I didn’t figure this out, other people did a long time ago and we share what works.”

“If all the augments are in our custody now, the surface operations shouldn’t take too long. Did you find anything interesting?”

“About what?”

“I assume you were digging into the planetary computer systems?”

“Me do that? How dare you?” she said sarcastically.

“And?”

“And it’s your typical Imperial dengat hole. The Governor and his staff live in a palace embezzling planetary funds and begging Kruko for more guilder while the population has to make do with whatever lives they can scrape together out of what’s left.”

“Any deviations from records?”

“Not much. Decent industrial base with subsistence agriculture, mediocre mining infrastructure. It actually hasn’t fared as bad as other startup colonies out here, but it’s been around a long time. Too long for such little growth. 80 million people are about the only good statistic it has to gloat about, and for the most part they’re supplied locally. The stuff coming in from Kruko is just going to the Governor’s personal assets.”

“What about from Gorgo?”

“He was routing ore shipments here for processing and basically stoking business a bit in exchange for taxes that were nothing more than tribute. He was taking out more from the planet than was coming in and relying on Kruko’s ‘generosity’ to make up the difference. I’ve already got enough on both of them to shove them out an airlock…assuming you did that sort of thing and Gorgo was still alive.”

“Don’t even joke about that.”

“Fine, let’s say your prison facility is going to be busy. The Devonak were establishing an enclave for what I suspect is even more illegal activity, but they were wise enough not to link their databases to the public net. The Governor barely had any cyber security on his accounts at all.”

“So he’s corrupt and incompetent?”

“Probably. Or he just didn’t worry about any competition on the planet. There’s been a long line of executions for minor crimes. They don’t even have a functioning prison.”

“Anything on the courier we sent?”

“Oh yeah, they did a very sloppy purge of the transmission from their systems. They didn’t want anyone to know about it. Probably thought they could hide out here or something, or maybe they didn’t believe Gorgo was really dead. I don’t know, but this just isn’t what you’d call a professional criminal organization. These are just petty thugs, but the planet does seem kind of nice.”

“Are you wanting to visit?”

“No thank you. I was speaking of logistics. It’ll be useful to you, won’t it?”

“After I get it reworked. The courier I sent will be bringing a convoy back with it.”

Illana raised an eyebrow. “You assumed you’d have to replace everyone?”

“Better to assume and have replacements handy rather than have to wait longer for them to get here. We spent too much time at Harshoo. I should have dealt with this planet and others before now. We’re almost three years into this operation and I don’t even have the local region locked down yet.”

“What did you expect? The Frontier is where they dump all their trash.”

“I expected more of them to follow the Emperor’s orders. I didn’t anticipate this much rogue behavior.”

“You may find a lot more out there,” she warned him, sneaking a kiss on his forehead before retreating to her section of the couch.

“Didn’t see that coming either,” he admitted.

“You’re tired and I took advantage of you,” she said, turning the holovid back on and grabbing another snack.

“Right,” he said, not complaining since his head felt about 10% less bad now. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“I need to start recruiting.”

Aatroxiss frowned, and not at the romantic make-out scene playing before him. “You need more than I’m providing you?”

“No, I need to select people from across the galaxy that already have skills that I need. I can keep training recruits with what I know and learning more on my own, but I need to bring in people who are experts in certain areas. You’re doing that already, making requests from the Emperor. I need to give you some names and see if he will send them here.”

“He’s not exactly asking these people to come, and some I’m recruiting without having to go through him.”

“I don’t care how you do it, but I need people more skilled than me to teach both me and the raw recruits. I’m a decent hacker, but I’m not a good hacker, let alone a great one.”

“I don’t want someone here that can run rings around you and set up their own independent network.”

“I’m not that stupid. I’ll have them on a short leash, which is also why I want specialists that can really only do one or two things really well. Otherwise we’re just sitting syroks waiting to be hacked. The Imperial software patches were never good to start with, but anything we get out here is going to be outdated by the time it arrives anyway. I’ve got to start writing new code and I can’t do it by myself. Not more than a few lines. I need people who can do it in their sleep, as well as people who have mastered pilfering such systems.”

“Rebels?”

“A few. Is that a problem?”

“I don’t suppose any of the prisoners the Emperor sent out would be of any use?”

She shook her head in the negative. “I already checked. Nothing I’m interested in.”

“Give me your wish list then and I’ll try to get a few out here. I don’t want you getting in over your head, so it’ll be better to add them to your team one at a time. Or would you like them hired on for a temporary job while you vet them?”

“I hadn’t thought about that. You can do that?”

“Hire people to come out here? I already am.”

“What are you paying them with? I thought High Command was still funding the ships and the crew’s salaries?”

“No, I’m using the money the Emperor gave me. Thanks for the cranial massage.”

“Anytime anywhere,” she said with a seductive smirk that he rolled his eyes at.

“Whenever I think you’re growing up you have to keep regressing.”

“Hey, women are lustful creatures. Don’t blame me for my biology.”

“You’ve got a ship full of men to play with. Believe me, most of them won’t turn you down.”

“No…thank…you…” she said forcefully. “I have no taste for Imps.”

“Then find a cute hacker to put on your list,” he said, walking over to his bedroom door and disappearing.

She grabbed another snack and thought about that as the holovid continued to play.

“Not the worst idea,” she admitted.

Two sulos later Aatroxiss was on a shuttle headed down to Chartrik’s second largest spaceport. The planet had four large cities, but the Governor’s palace was not in the largest of them. It was actually on the edge of the northernmost one, nestled into a countryside full of mountains and glaciers and evergreen forests. Definitely a scenic landscape compared to the grasslands that dominated most of the central planetary region aside from the band of desert along the equator that the four northern hemisphere cities avoided by a wide margin.

There were only two large lakes on the planet and no oceans, making it a very dry but livable place for plants. Larger reserves of water were located below ground level, and the larger trees were able to sink roots down into them and grow ridiculously large. Everything else was covered by seas of grass that survived on sporadic rainfall.

All in all, it was a dismal view but with a decent atmosphere and temperature range. Compared to other places that had been colonized in the Frontier it was above average, but most Imperial citizens would never bother traveling all the way out here for a planet like this.

That is, unless you had no better options in the ‘civilized’ parts of the galaxy.

To their credit, though, the planetary designers had made it almost self-sufficient, and the industry here was tailored to those needs along with a few major exports…most of those being spare parts for ships and walkers that otherwise would have to be shipped in from the Districts, but there were no shipyards here to build ships or factories to build walkers or heavy speeders. It was all the support stuff they were catering to, and Aatroxiss could see why Gorgo had wrestled this world away from Mubarak.

What the story was with that High Admiral he still didn’t fully know, but what little confidence he’d initially had in him and the regular reports coming in from his worlds was now gone. He had assumed the High Admiral was faithfully carrying out his orders to other planets far from here, but now he wasn’t so sure. There wasn’t much he could do about it right now if he wasn’t, because his first priority was getting Periphery Territory One interlinked, properly equipped, and self-sufficient to use as a base of operations to retrain and retool the entire Frontier.

Chasing after the High Admiral would solve a lot of problems, but not provide the foundation he needed to solve all the problems, so he was just going to wait and see what Team 83 could dig up before confronting the man, let alone the other two High Admirals that he knew even less about.

“We’re coming in, Admiral,” Deenar Viexi said over the comm to the rear of the shuttle where he sat. “General Hacking reports there’s still some fighting going on, but it should be contained shortly. Do you wish me to circle around until then?”

“No, take us on down,” he said, standing up and looking out the side bar window as a small city within the major city showed sculpted architecture, streets that were elegantly weaving and essentially turning their nose up at the block-like nature of the major city’s construction. The Palace grounds were extensive, and even covered more land area than the Imperial Palace on Kruko…and with a ski lift visible heading up into the nearest mountain, Aatroxiss could understand why.

This whole complex looked like a vacation resort, and given the amount of guilder that Illana had found being embezzled, he was at least glad it hadn’t been misspent on stuff that the Grand Admiral couldn’t now confiscate. He much preferred to have his new personnel coming in living in adequate or better accommodations, and this, from the air at least, appeared far better than ‘adequate.’

His shuttle spun about over a small landing pad directly near the Palace and not the main one used for guests. The assault shuttle barely fit on it, actually, and when the ramp lowered and the green-armored honor guard spilled out ahead of him they were trudging on a thin layer of fresh snow that was being added to by the large flakes falling lazily from the sky and sticking to the top of their helmets and shoulder armor.

Aatroxiss got a burst of cold air as soon as the ramp began to lower and he followed the guard out breathing a plume of white as the moisture in his breath became visible while the mask filters on the guards prevented any such disturbance to their vision.

He took a moment to look around. At least here, hidden away in the Frontier, was a bit of true civilization and luxury. And with the teams General Hacking had sent ahead of him, it would be clear of the trash that had been previously inhabiting it by the time he reached the side entrance, for he could see Hacking’s prisoner shuttles lifting off like a flock of birds from the main pad, which he got confirmation of moments later.

“Admiral, the Palace is secure,” the General’s voice said over Aatroxiss’s handheld comlink whose metal casing was sucking in the cold air quite fast around his exposed fingers. “All personnel have been removed for questioning and reassignment.”

“Very good, General. Any casualties?”

“No, sir, just some minor building damage. The Governor’s guards were more like actors in uniform than actual soldiers…though they did have some of the most expensive uniforms I’ve ever seen.”

“Do you get the feeling this was a VIP vacation resort?”

“I had the same thought, Admiral. It’s a little too nice for the Frontier.”

“Did you find any guests?”

“We found a lot of people, but I have no idea who they are or what they do. Nobody proclaimed their importance like the Devonak did. Everybody is keeping real quiet and their heads down.”

“Get IDs on all of them and compare with our records. We might have caught a few big cava (fish) out here.”

“We did notice a few vehicles fleeing the Palace grounds when we arrived. Do you want us to track them down?”

“Not at the moment, but ask Illana to monitor them.”

“Will do, Admiral,” he said as the doors ahead of him parted and some of the assault team troopers spilled out. Hacking was right behind them and waved the Admiral over while Aatroxiss put away his comlink.

“I assume this complex is still useable?”

“Quite so,” the General said helmetless and breathing out white air as well. “Only a few rooms were damaged by the guard’s shots. We used stun weaponry and only lit a few tapestries on fire with it. They’ve got the humidity level down so much that the static ignited them.”

Aatroxiss frowned. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, but they lit up when hit multiple times.”

“Sir,” another trooper interrupted from Hacking’s group. “I believe I know the answer.”

“Spit it out, Turri,” the General said, referencing the rank just above Jaro.

“Sir, I smelled a lot of Volnix in the room. I believe the curtains were saturated with it.”

“That I can believe,” Aatroxiss said, referring to an airborne drug that was smoked in small pipes that were carried in the hand like a mug. People standing around having conversations would fill a room with smoke, only then pulled out by the air filters, but clothing and other porous material had a tendency to soak it up. And the unburnt oils that got into the air and into the tapestries were quite flammable. There were numerous stories of how wealthy people had burnt down their luxury estates with such mishaps, though the superstructure of the buildings was always unaffected, so they’d just rebuild the interior and start over again…still smoking liberally and not caring how much guilder it cost for the inconvenience.

“Should I have a hazard team come through and decon the place?” Hacking asked.

“No. We’ll get a cleaning crew in here and have them go through everything. But make sure the air scrubbers are at maximum. I don’t feel like wearing a helmet.”

Hacking made a brief call on his helmet, then took it back off to face the Admiral.

“Filters are set to maximum volume, but there’s probably some residue present.”

“I’ll live,” Aatroxiss said, walking past him and going inside…and almost gagging on the smell.

Hacking pulled his helmet back on as he followed.

As they began a brief tour he saw green-armored troopers everywhere in ones and twos, checking systems, walking patrols, or carrying around crates. This wasn’t just an inspection, it was an occupation, and Aatroxiss intended to put this palace and the grounds to use immediately while waiting for his supply convoy to arrive.

To that end he’d already made contact with non-Palace people on the planet, namely the people who controlled the various industries and had them compiling a mountain of reports to send him. He had also began hiring people from orbit to do various tasks for him, and some of those were to coordinate the others. Those coordinators were to arrive here shortly and take up residence, making the Palace grounds the command and control center that it was supposed to be.

His troopers had found all the proper equipment here, hidden behind artwork and sculptures and fake walls to disguise the stuff that couldn’t be moved. It looked like no real work had been done in the Palace for a long time, but after just a few ahka this place was going to be very busy as Aatroxiss began evaluating and retooling the economy on the fly. Which was why he needed accurate and up to date reports about what was happening here, and a staff of civilians to help collate them for him.

He didn’t intend to stay planetside for long, maybe a dekka at most, and wanted all the necessary orders and programs established before his personnel on the convoy arrived. Then he could hand it over to them and take the Redemption elsewhere. That meant moving very fast right now, and he couldn’t do that having people shuttled up to the battleship and back down constantly, so he was going to camp out in the Palace until he was satisfied that things were in motion according to his plans.

“Do you have a gate guard in place yet?”

“Yes, sir,” Hacking said from behind his helmet, escaping the smell with his built-in filters.

“We’re going to get the cleaning crew in here first thing. This scent is too problematic. Get ID cards set up for the locals and face scanners in place. There’s going to be a lot of traffic through the main gate, and I want the other ones locked down. Is there a room that doesn’t smell like this?”

“Most of the others are worse,” the same trooper informed him. “But the kitchen complex and plant room seemed clean.”

“Arboretum,” the Grand Admiral said, supplying the technical term. “We’ll need a team going through the kitchen stores and seeing what proper food can be salvaged, so let’s set up in the arboretum until the cleaning crews can deal with this mess.”

“My decon team can probably get here faster, sir.”

“It’s the volume of work that concerns me, General. I have a feeling every fabric in the building is going to be contaminated, including carpets. I don’t want to waste troopers on that when it’s not immediately toxic. I just don’t want any long term exposure. Trooper,” he said, turning back to the anonymous green armored soldier that looked like all the others. “Did you find any unsmoked Volnix?”

“Yes, sir. A lot of it. They’ve got little boxes in all the rooms.”

“General, confiscate those boxes immediately and seal them in hazard bags. Do not touch the Volnix with your skin or let it dump into the air. I don’t want the cleaning crews to be put in danger. And begin a search of the entire grounds for more contraband, dangerous or otherwise.”

“I don’t believe it’s illegal, sir,” Hacking said, confused with the term ‘contraband.’

Aatroxiss sighed, almost choking on the air as he did so. “Standing Order 13. No mind-altering substances are permitted for recreational use, and no production of mind-altering substances is permitted save for selective permits. There, General. Now it’s illegal,” he said, hearing some of the troopers moan in disapproval.

“Yes, sir,” he said stiffly, throwing a helmeted glance in the direction of the moaning. “We’ll get it all rounded up and disposed of.”

“That includes beverages, General.”

“I know, sir.”

“And ‘disposed of’ does not mean emptying the bottles by drinking them.”

“How do you want them disposed of?”

“Find an area of the Palace grounds appropriate for some target shooting and split your troopers into teams. First place team gets 500 guilder. Last place team cleans up the glass.”

Hacking laughed once, then stifled any more reaction in front of his men. “Yes, General. It will be done.”

“I’ll leave you to that then. But get some portable comm equipment to the arboretum. That’s where I’ll be receiving visitors until the cleaning crews are finished…”

17

The changes on Chartrik happened relatively easily once the Governor and his staff were gone. The people on the planet were eager for a change, and the Grand Admiral hired them immediately for a lot of construction projects, inserting badly needed guilder and jobs into their planetary economy. And once the guilder started to flow, Aatroxiss suddenly became very popular.

When the relief convoy arrived he installed a new Planetary Governor, another accountant who would run the operations here from a numbers mindset and who had no idea upon arrival that he would even be considered for the job. Aatroxiss set up a lot of other officials in various places, all working out of the Palace, and then he started a litany of smaller changes. The kind of which nobody understood or cared about.

What he knew that they didn’t was that a civilization was like a spiderweb. Various points interconnected by strands. You only recognized the web after it was complete or nearly complete. When you began, just placing random points around the map it made no sense to the casual observer. But Aatroxiss knew what points to place, or in this case begin to create, and had set in motion many things that would later bear fruit if Governor Nattin could adhere to his protocols and schedule.

Once he had everything set in place it was time to move on. He left a cruiser and three destroyers that had come with the convoy in place, sending off two corvettes on courier missions while ordering one to accompany the Redemption and a now empty freighter to their next location.

That particular corvette was the Night Hawk. Now fully repaired and part of the large armada around Outpost #01, it had been assigned to this convoy and brought with it the report of its escape from Naugh. Before the trio of ships left Chartrik, he had replaced the commander of the corvette and brought Hexdra Nogalu onboard his flagship. They were on their way towards the star to begin the first leg of their 12 jump journey to Sharcora Denova when Nogalu was escorted by a trooper to the door of the Grand Admiral’s quarters.

“Go on in,” the trooper said, pressing the button on the doorframe.

The Hexdra swallowed hard and walked in, seeing the Grand Admiral sitting behind his workstation.

“Sit.”

Nogalu did as ordered, taking one of two open chairs and kept his back rigidly at attention as he remained silent and waited for the Grand Admiral to speak first.

“You were not removed from your command as punishment, Hexdra,” he said simply. “I’m reassigning you to my flagship crew. I am quite pleased with your ability to get your ship to safety, including the violations of protocol you engaged in to do it.”

Nogalu opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Had the Grand Admiral just congratulated him on breaking protocol?

“I apologize for not coming sooner, Grand Admiral.”

Aatroxiss waved away the thought. “Your actions made up for it, and I understand the situation you were in. Your refusal to surrender or just die fighting during your escape is exactly what I need in my officers. You were down a gravity drive and still managed to elude two other corvettes.”

“I had no idea Outpost #02 was even there, sir. It was luck that saved us. We wouldn’t have made it back to Outpost #01 before they caught us.”

“I disagree. If you had continued to use non-protocol maneuvers and they stuck with protocol, even with a weaker gravity drive you stood a chance of success. Two ships meeting up in space to fight is unlikely unless both wish to do so at the speeds you are traveling coming into and out of an interstellar jump. The game you were playing most likely would have seen you to safety eventually, even if you do not realize it. Adherence to protocol is sometimes wise, sometimes foolish. Your pursuers could have overcome your lead if they had abandoned protocol. They did not, and most Imperial officers are of a mindset to go to their deaths before abandoning protocol. Fortunately for you and your crew you did not have that liability.”

“Sir, we barely survived that jump. Had our calculations been off a little bit we would have been marooned in the deep void. I’m not proud of what I did. It was just…the only option we had left.”

“Actually no, it wasn’t. It was the only option you perceived you had left. And based on what you knew at the time, you behaved as a ship’s captain should. But you still have much to learn if you are going to serve in my Fleet. Protocol is important in some situations, but my captains have to be able to go beyond it in others. Situations where you cannot write out an instruction manual beforehand. Situations where you have to trust your instincts when protocol is insufficient, or even perhaps wrong. You demonstrated this quality where many others have not. You are fit to be the captain of a corvette, but I have very few officers who are truly capable of learning. I can adjust protocol to help them perform better, but those who I have found who are capable I have brough to this ship for training. As I have brought you here, Commander Nogalu.”

Nogalu’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “A promotion?”

“One that comes with a lot of hard work and expectations. Prove yourself able to learn and soak up the knowledge available to you on this ship, as well as convince Captain Mahansey that you’re worthy, and you’ll be commanding something larger than a corvette far sooner than you imagined.”

Nogalu shook his head. “I don’t understand, sir. I left my post, put my ship and crew in harm’s way, and barely survived. I don’t deserve a reward for that.”

“Why did you leave your post?”

“Because you had ordered us to.”

“Then were you truly leaving your post?”

“It felt like it, sir.”

Aatroxiss nodded. “One job of an Admiral is to not put ships into positions like you were in. The Fleet has to support itself, and what the treasonous commanders giving you orders did was create a conflict with no clear protocol to follow. You rose above that, and however shakily you did it, you made a good choice and got your ship and crew where they needed to be.”

“And probably got our friends on the surface killed.”

Aatroxiss’s face became hard. “Possibly. Evil doesn’t like to give you options. It wants to leverage you into only one possible outcome, and if that outcome is evil itself, it expects you to become what you don’t want to be for fear of something worse happening. You couldn’t protect your associates on Naugh. The only people you could protect were your crew. You got them out of that hazardous environment, and that is a success. You shouldn’t be ok with what might be happening to the people back on Naugh, but you also need to remind yourself that caring about what happens to others doesn’t put you in a position to always help them. Focus on what you can control, and don’t let what you can’t control be leveraged against you. It leaves you a little sick in your stomach, but when you look back on it later, you will realize you made the right decision.”

“If I had waited, would you or High Admiral Laro have done something?”

“I have no idea why High Admiral Laro has allowed a naval Captain to commandeer an entire planet for his own purposes. As for me, I would have ended up at Naugh eventually. Captain Montose’s name had already come to my attention, and when I meet up with him he will be relieved of command immediately. I cannot do it remotely because orders I send to that system are being ignored, as they were in this system. I’ve corrected the problems here but have a list of other systems that are defying the Emperor’s orders. Naugh is a long way from here, and I would not have gotten to it soon. The people you wanted to protect may have been killed before I got there for other reasons entirely. Perhaps even your crew. It was best to get out as soon as you could. Let your promotion remind you that I not only approve of your actions, but am proud of them. You are not a standard Imperial officer. You have more potential than they do. And if I am going to get the Frontier civilized for the Emperor, I need better than what we have now. Do you understand?”

“Not entirely, Grand Admiral.”

“You’re also honest, which is good. Though I imagine it has gotten you into trouble in the past,” Aatroxiss said, already having looked at this man’s file and the three small infractions on it.

“It has, sir.”

“That is because the officers you served were bad officers. The Empire has a habit of punishing those who excel in favor of those who have waited their turn. The Emperor will not tolerate such nonsense in the Frontier any longer, for it has failed time and again. The rest of the Imperial Fleet may continue to operate with such thinking, but not my Fleet. Have you heard the term ‘Green Empire’ yet?”

“I have, sir.”

“In order to achieve victory in this barbaric region we must become better than the rest of the Fleet, and that means finding officers who can think in different ways than they were taught. Those that can’t will not rise far here, Commander. We will know soon whether or not you can. Embrace the challenge ahead of you. Captain Mahansey is not an easy task master.”

“Did I make any mistakes, Grand Admiral?”

“Possibly navigating better is not what I would call a mistake, Commander. Never fall for the illusion that you know everything, or that you know of all possible options. There may be others staring you in the face that you simply cannot see because you are distracted with other thoughts.”

“What other options did I have, sir?”

“You could have, with enough skill, arced your trajectory around a star without stopping in it. This would have lost your pursuit immediately.”

“Grand Admiral, we’re not even allowed to practice such things in simulators.”

“I know. And you probably didn’t have the piloting skill to pull it off, but tell me, did you even consider it as an option?”

“No, sir,” Nogalu admitted.

“There are many navigational options in space near a gravity well, Commander. Most are unavailable to you without the right equipment or skills. The more you level up, the more options appear. In my life I have done such a slingshot maneuver 3 times and arrived at the next system close enough to the jumpline to decelerate, though twice I had to make several loops around the final star to decelerate because we arrived too far off the centerline.”

Nogalu’s expression showed utter shock. “You’ve actually done it?”

“Many people have outside the Imperial Fleet, though most who attempt it do not survive. Skill matters, and when you have a skilled pilot you can leave the Imperial Fleet sitting within their protocol and go pretty much wherever you want. The Emperor’s existing Fleet is badly organized, badly trained, and badly commanded. This is why it has failed in the Frontier time and again. I have to improve it if we are to attain the victory the Emperor wants. In the future, when I have time to train personnel properly, the skills of a present day Commander will not be sufficient to hold the rank of Lieutenant. But right now I don’t have properly trained personnel, so I’m going to give you quick, limited training that will weed out those who refuse to learn and improve those who do above the Imperial standard. I expect you to be one of the latter. Do not disappoint me.”

“I’ll try, sir.”

“Do not try, Commander. You get no awards for trying. Work at it until you succeed. Be as relentless in your efforts are you were to keep your ship and crew alive. If something doesn’t work, keep working the problem until you solve it or until you are dead. I will tolerate no quitters in my Fleet. Report to the bridge and the Captain will see to your quarters and assignments.”

Nogalu stood and saluted across his chest. “Thank you, Grand Admiral. Thank you very much.”

Aatroxiss nodded and the man briskly walked out, with the door shutting for only a moment before Specter 7 was shown in.

“Grand Admiral,” he greeted, coming to stand before his desk as Aatroxiss waved him into a seat.

“Your information has proven accurate. Where do you wish me to release you?” he said, referring to the near house arrest that the man had been under in his quarters onboard the flagship…which was still far better than a cell in the brig.

“Itinios would be the easiest for both of us, I believe,” he said, eyeing the Grand Admiral. “But there’s something else you wish to ask me, isn’t there?” he said almost smugly.

“What do you know about these augments?”

“The rumors your crew have been spreading is the first I’ve heard of it,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“My information says there are thousands of them in service across who knows how many worlds. And you know nothing about them?”

“No, Admiral, I do not,” he said gravely. “It’s illegal to implant alien tissue into Vixot, and that’s not one law I’m inclined to break, nor are my sponsors. I think you’ll find the list of factions willing to do such things to be very short. These augments were probably passed off as regular soldiers, which is why I never knew about them.”

“I highly doubt Gorgo was tinkering just for the fun of it,” Aatroxiss said, tapping a finger on his desktop for emphasis. “Who out here was he aiming to take down?”

“Everyone, I assume. That man had unlimited ambitions.”

“His network is far more robust than you reported, and the deeper I dig the more questions arise. Are you sure he was a rogue?”

“I can’t promise you that, but I never saw any indications that he had sided with any of the existing factions.”

“Whoever you work for, send them this message. If they’re linked with Gorgo in any way, they need to honorably disentangle themselves before I trace the connections back to them.”

“If they were involved I would know.”

“Are you sure you’re that important to them?”

“Out here there are few people as well connected as I am, and I am paid handsomely for my services. I develop their connections out here, so if I’m not doing it, they’re not.”

“And yet, given your number, it suggests there are others.”

“There are, and I know approximately what they are doing…but only so far as to not step on their toes. A completely hidden network would imperil our current endeavors. None of us are involved in any alien body part enterprises. Frankly, it’s beneath us.”

“Are you familiar with the planet Pradah?”

“Of course.”

“I have the Governor of Pradah in custody, soon to arrive at my prison facility. He was on Colony #01 masquerading as some of the Vixot prisoners.”

Specter 7’s face sank slightly, and Aatroxiss studied it closely.

“Why didn’t I hear about that?”

“The crew doesn’t know, for the most part, and you will not inform them. His presence out here is to be kept secret.”

“And you’re imprisoning him why?”

“He had an ocular upgrade with alien tissue, then murdered several people to hide from my forces.”

“Surely the Emperor would want him back.”

Aatroxiss smiled cruelly. “Anyone and everything in the Frontier belongs to me. Those were the Emperor’s terms. If someone comes out here without authorization, I can do with them what I want. Prahda will be getting a new Governor.”

Specter 7 hissed. “That will have…consequences.”

“For me?”

“For others. The Ludon worlds are so entrenched in power games little headway can be made there. What you’ve just done is open one up for the Emperor to fill the vacancy without having to create an excuse to do it. You’ll take the heat for it, not him…and his influence on Pradah will grow considerably.”

“Which hurts your hopes to depose him?”

“Significantly so.”

“Not my intention, but I also don’t care. Take that as an object lesson for your employers. I rule out here, and unless you are sanctioned by me to be in my territory, you are in peril, because I am not bound by your traditional power games and their restrictions.”

“So I am learning quickly,” Specter 7 said, the fear in his eyes evident. “The Emperor has let you loose to shake up the game, I fear.”

“If the players don’t come out here, then they have nothing to fear. I also have recovered a rather lengthy client list from Colony #01. Odds are some of those people link back to your employers. I suggest you tell them not to send anyone into the Frontier again and forget these stars even exist.”

“I thought you were going to be friendly to those who didn’t cross you?”

“I’m not as territorial as you might think, but I don’t tolerate bad behavior, and I’m guessing the only reason people of stature would come out here is to participate in bad behavior they couldn’t get away with in the Districts.”

“That’s not the only reason, Grand Admiral.”

“If you wish to operate in secret out here, you will probably run afoul of me eventually. But if your employers want to conduct business aboveboard, I’m open to inquiries.”

“What do you mean by aboveboard?”

“Not publicly, but you must get approval from me personally for various endeavors. And if they don’t live up to my standards I won’t allow it. Basically, check with me first or risk suffering the fate of Nathen Ursa. I know how to keep secrets, but secrets had best not be kept from me, otherwise you’re gambling on the outcome.”

“I see,” Specter 7 said evenly.

“I hope so. Upon arrival in Sharcora Denova I will be dispatching a corvette back to Outpost #01 carrying orders from me. I will send you back on that corvette with instructions that you be booked on the next freighter to Itinios. After you are there, you are no longer my concern unless you make it my concern.”

“That sounds like a threat, Grand Admiral,” he said intentionally meekly, knowing that his transit could easily be canceled on a whim.

“It is, if your faction decides to operate in the Frontier behind my back. It would be best if they made proper introductions and we figure out if there are any mutually beneficial arrangements to be made. But as of now they have no leverage in the Frontier, and it would be best if you made them understand that.”

“May I inform them of what happened to the Pradah Governor?”

“Yes. Just don’t spread that knowledge to my people on your way out. I’ve already sent a message to the Emperor informing him of the situation, so it will become public in due time. If you are quick, you may be able to inform your employers of it before the other factions become aware of the change about to take place.”

Specter 7 bowed his head appreciably, acknowledging the favor just done to him.

“You are a straightforward man. I think we can work with that. I’ll try and set up that introduction, if my employer wishes it.”

“You will remain on this ship until we get to our destination. The quarters here are better than you’ll get on the corvette.”

“Thank you,” he said as Aatroxiss dismissed him with a hand gesture. The Grand Admiral waited until he was out the door before using his desk comm.

“Captain, send Lieutenant Shagni to my quarters…”

18

During the coast phase between stars there was little to do for the bridge crew. No one could attack them out here save for some truly rare events. Even the two ships with the Redemption had almost no gravity to maneuver with and were spaced out enough that they couldn’t drift into one another. So during the boring transits between stars the Grand Admiral worked furiously in his quarters on his backlog of tasks while Captain Mahansey ran ship-wide training drills, leaving only a single bridge station online to monitor current events.

Everything else on the bridge and elsewhere in the ship went into simulation mode, and Captain Mahansey saw them once again get beat up by theoretical opponents programmed by the Grand Admiral in a wide range of battle and emergency situations.

This was common, for he threw what were essentially no-win scenarios at them all the time, judging them on how well they performed rather than the overall result. The crew had originally hated such drills, but now they’d become accustomed to them and the guilder prizes for various benchmarks achieved. It was also widely known that these drills were used in assigning people to other ships when they were deemed ready…at ranks they normally couldn’t have achieved in another 10 years of normal service.

New additions to the crew caught on quickly, and occasionally the Grand Admiral would make an appearance to give a lesson or congratulations where needed, but for the most part it was Mahansey’s show to run and he was getting quite good at shaking the stagnation out of transfers that had accumulated during their ‘normal’ Imperial service.

Service in the Green Fleet had higher expectations, and he was now taking some pleasure in being the one to break the old habits and terrorize the new arrivals until they learned to learn. In fact, he was becoming quite relentless, and many crewmembers wished to get to their destination as fast as possible in order to escape the nerve-racking combat drills.

When the three ship flotilla finally arrived in System F2810, the planet Sharcora Denova was not visible from low stellar orbit. Technically speaking it was a moon of a large green gas giant that oddly had a lower magnetic field than Sharcora Denova. It was sufficient to grip the moon and keep it in orbit, otherwise even a ‘perfect’ orbit would gradually decay or spiral off into space. That was why stellar objects without magnetic fields had nothing orbiting them, and was also why some planets had magnificent rings surrounding their equator.

Magnetic fields didn’t just push and pull, they also had a weaker ‘locking’ mechanism. The push and pull overrode it everywhere around the planet except at the equator where the north and south poles canceled out. In that approximate region the locking field would manifest slightly, acting like mud for anything moving through it. So an orbiting object that was pushed a little would move slightly then stick in the ‘mud’ again. This is why stars had planets and planets had moons…and why planets without a magnetic field did not have stable moons.

But this system was an odd ball in that the gravitational field from the gas giant would normally be strong enough to prevent its moons from having moons, because every time they would orbit around they would, on one side, have the gravity of both gravity wells pulling them towards the gas giant…then when it orbited to the other side of the moon, there would be a tug of war between the two.

This would mean the orbital path would change each time it made a loop. Furthermore, such an orbit would drag through the ‘mud’ of the gas giant, further preventing any stable orbit from forming. That ‘mud’ only worked for altitude changes, and objects could slip sideways around orbit effortlessly like they were on some invisible track. That was why a moon couldn’t orbit a moon…for its orbit would be running perpendicular to that track at various points.

But Sharcora Denova’s magnetic field being stronger than the gas giant’s canceled out that effect, for it’s own magnetic ‘tracks’ were dominant, plus strong enough to overcome the gravitational tug of war. Any attempt at ‘slipping in the mud’ would be nulled out, requiring more force than the ‘tugs’ could muster to move the moon’s moon out of its track.

That’s why everyone referred to Sharcora Denova as a planet rather than a moon, and on that planet was a vibrant ecology that hosted the Novu race. Aatroxiss had come here not just to deal with the rogue Imperials not responding to orders, but also to try and contact the Novu to arrange the return of their people being held in one of the paddocks on Colony #01. To that end he had four of the Novu, including two he had healed, on the freighter to act as translators. Nobody had taught them basic, but they were intelligent enough to have picked up enough of it from the Vixot guards to be able to speak to him without much trouble.

The Empire only had one outpost on the planet, however. It was little more than a station from which to conduct hunting expeditions and collect Novu for a variety of despicable reasons. That station was where they’d gotten the first Novu to be transported to the research facility, and Aatroxiss intended to shut it down completely upon arrival.

The main Imperial presence here was at a space station situated at the gravitational balance point between the planet and the moon. It didn’t orbit either, but was rather held between them and slowly rotating around the planet, staying in line with the moon. A speed that would not typically be enough to maintain a stable orbit, but the gravitational tug of the moon made up for it.

That station served as a refueling dock for starships, with the extensive mining facilities on the moon providing the rare Tridin ore that was processed into Nebulite, the primary reactor fuel for the Imperial Fleet, though there were secondary fuel sources available. The Redemption could even use basic hydrogen and oxygen to produce partial power if needed, but to give the ship its maximum power output and longevity, Nebulite was required and this was one of only a handful of places in the Frontier where it was locally produced. Which was why Gorgo had claimed it as his own.

That station and the planet and moon were currently on the far side of the gas giant and not visible to the star, so it wasn’t until the trio of ships had maneuvered around stellar orbit and began their microjump out to the gas giant did they finally get a contact hit.

“Looks like their destroyer,” Mahansey said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “The transponder is on, but the relay satellites are not. That doesn’t feel right.”

“What would be normal?” Aatroxiss asked from his command chair as both men sat and waited through the long coast phase out to the gas giant.

“Refueling stations typically have traffic control systems that eliminate eclipse blackouts like this.”

“Most planets do,” Aatroxiss added.

“Not my point, Admiral. The refueling stations don’t want ships showing up out of queue, so they get things scheduled the moment they arrive in the system long before they get to the traffic jam.”

“Perhaps there isn’t that much traffic out here.”

“Maybe, but it still doesn’t feel right…unless they shut down the entire station and are trying to play dead. But that destroyer is clearly poking around for surveillance purposes and has its beacon on. It doesn’t add up, sir.”

“You’re thinking it’s a trap?”

“No, sir. They wouldn’t have revealed themselves if it was a trap. It’s just not standard operating procedure.”

“Yet that destroyer isn’t responding to hails.”

“Something isn’t right here,” the Captain half whispered.

“Options?” Aatroxiss asked, and Mahansey knew he was being tested. The Grand Admiral probably saw the same things he did.

“We can take a loop around the gas giant at high altitude to see what we’re dealing with before we approach the station. If there’s more ships on the other side, it would be best not to get the freighter too close if there is going to be a fight.”

“And the destroyer?”

“Could be bait for us to chase away, then someone hits the freighter. I doubt the Captain is dumb enough to not recognize that this ship is a light battleship and faster than him. Not after the reputation you’ve been giving her.”

“I don’t know, Captain. The level of stupidity amongst Imperial officers in the Frontier should not be underestimated.”

Mahansey laughed…a knowing laugh, given all the headcases the Grand Admiral had been pulling onboard this ship for retraining. “Point taken.”

“Arrange a lap around the gas giant at what you consider a safe distance, Captain.”

“Yes, sir,” Mahansey said, fiddling with his control board to give him options and to coordinate with the navigational section of the crew pit without having to speak out loud. For whatever reason the Grand Admiral was letting him take the lead on this.

Well before the mathematical decision point the Captain had his course plotted and got a nod of approval from Aatroxiss, then the helmsman began slipping them slightly off the jumpline well short of the gas giant. That amount increased as they approached, and instead of negating all of their approach speed they preserved some of it to drop into a high orbit at higher than normal speeds, using the engines as a tether on the planet to get them to maintain a consistent altitude without slowing down.

Captain Mahansey watched the destroyer closely and ordered another hail, which also received no response. The ship wasn’t running away yet, or moving at all, just sitting in a low orbit around the gas giant far closer to the green mass than the refueling station.

“Comm officer,” Aatroxiss finally said, “give me an open channel to all Imperial assets in the system.”

“Ready, sir. Channel 3.”

Aatroxiss punched that appropriate button on his control board, with his voice being sent out over standard Imperial channels rather than a private direct link to a specific target.

“I am Grand Admiral Aatroxiss, personally commissioned by the Emperor and given full military and civilian command over all assets in the Frontier. This system did not response to my earlier communications. You will respond to me now or you will respond to my troopers when they raid your facilities. If it comes to the latter, the current leaders will be replaced no matter what reasons you have for your disobedience. I understand former Admiral Gorgo commandeered this system and many others, but he is now dead and I am reasserting legal control. You have this one last opportunity to cooperate, after which I will consider all assets in this system to be rogue.”

A lot of time passed, with neither the destroyer nor the station responding, but finally someone on the moon did hail the Redemption.

“Your name and position,” Aatroxiss said as he stood before the main hologram.

“I’m the station manager for one of the mining operations. Name’s Hargrove, and we don’t want any trouble Admiral. We’re just doing our jobs.”

“Manager Hargrove, I am not just a military commander, but also the Regional Governor of the Frontier, which makes me your boss. Why have none of my hails been answered until now?”

“It wasn’t my decision, Admiral. I…” he stopped as the hologram suddenly cut out.

“Lieutenant?”

“It wasn’t us, sir. Cut off at the source. Not signed off, cut off.”

“Get me the Night Hawk,” he ordered, waiting for its new captain to appear on screen.

“Yes, Grand Admiral?”

“I need a low reconnaissance run around the moon at high speed, then return to your present flanking position,” he ordered as the trio of ships was near to passing the line created by the gas giant, station, and moon on their larger orbit.

Hexdra Nyon nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The hologram cut off and returned to a tactical display, with Aatroxiss seeing the corvette leap out of formation a moment later and spiral down towards the moon, accelerating as it went and transmitting its sensor readings back to the Redemption. Captain Mahansey walked up next to Aatroxiss and studied the results with him. There was a short blackout when the corvette was on the far side of the moon but it didn’t last long, coming around into view again and completing an updated map of the arid outposts riding below a thin, reddish atmosphere.

“Nothing but tugs and cargo haulers,” Mahansey commented. “If someone is leveraging them it’s being done from the surface. Do you want us to pull in close and drop some ‘investigators’ down there?” he suggested cryptically.

“No. Keep us at this altitude. I want to see what’s on the far side of the gas giant before we commit to anything.”

“We’d have seen anything there by now…unless they were circling deliberately opposite us.”

“Let’s rule that out first, then we can visit that destroyer.”

“Shall I have the fighters equipped with IDF missiles again?”

“No. The Redemption can handle it herself,” he said oddly, still staring at the moon.

“What is it?”

“The destroyer is waiting for something.”

Mahansey looked at the diagram that now stretched all the way from the moon to the gas giant where the destroyer still waited in a lazy low orbit…except it wasn’t orbiting, it was holding position.

“She’s got that spot staked out.”

“I noticed,” Aatroxiss said carefully.

The Captain lowered his voice to a whisper. “You think this is some sort of a trap?”

“If the other side of the gas giant is clear, then I’m not sure what is going on here. But if that destroyer was going to run it would have by now. The best time would have been while we were coasting immediately after leaving the star’s prime thrust zone. It could have gotten out of the system before we caught up to it.”

“So why stay here and assure it gets caught?”

“What would a dumb Captain’s motivation be right now?”

Mahansey sighed. “Follow orders to stay even if they made no sense. Fake a comm failure and plead ignorance later.”

“That destroyer’s Captain should be the highest ranking military officer in the system. So whose orders would they be following?”

“Augments onboard?”

“Possibly.”

“Why not send the corvette around the gas giant?”

“Because if there is something there, I want the freighter as close to the jumpline as possible.”

Mahansey frowned. “You don’t think we can protect it?”

“I honestly don’t know what’s going on,” Aatroxiss whispered back as the corvette was arcing tightly around the moon and accelerating back towards them.

It reached them before anything happened, moving back into formation off the battleship’s port side at a comfortable distance while the freighter was traveling in the Redemption’s wake. Then as they were set to pass by Sharcora Denova at a long distance, the destroyer suddenly broke from its position and began racing for an intercept.

It would take more than an ahka for it to catch up, but Aatroxiss could see the navigational math.

“Captain, get the freighter moving at maximum speed towards the gas giant.”

“The gas giant?”

“Now,” Aatroxiss growled, his eyes locked on the tactical display.

“Yes, sir,” Mahansey said, conferring with the Fleet Coordinator in the crew pit. When he walked back from the edge of the rail-less ledge the freighter was already beginning to pull away from the battleship and corvette, turning into a nearly straight line trajectory towards the gas giant.

“Stay with her,” Aatroxiss ordered, seeing the destroyer begin to alter its course slightly to follow them.

“Helm, keep us with the freighter,” he said, walking within a step of Aatroxiss. “Sir, what’s going on?”

“When the destroyer gets within a certain distance, I believe we will have our answer.”

“If you’re concerned about the freighter, why not intercept the destroyer long before it gets within firing range?”

Aatroxiss shook his head. “Where are the blind spots, Captain? We eliminated the moon with the corvette. What else remains?”

“We’ve scanned all the way around the gas giant from arrival to now, but there could be ships maneuvering around the far side to stay in a temporary blind spot.”

“And what else?”

“The planet,” he said, glancing at the destroyer. “It took off in time to reach us when someone else gets in range?”

“Either that or the destroyer has a suicide wish.”

“It could be meeting with ships from the other side of the gas giant.”

“The math doesn’t add up. It only makes sense if there’s someone hiding in the shadow of the planet.”

“And the traffic control satellites would have shown them,” Mahansey said, finally piecing it together. “So they shut them off.”

“There was supposed to be a destroyer here, so they showed it to us,” Aatroxiss explained, his irritation evident. “And we can’t run without abandoning the freighter.”

“So why send it to the gas giant and not around to the jumppoint?”

“If we tuck in low near the atmosphere it acts like a wall.”

“How many ships do you suspect are in hiding?”

“I’m hoping I’m being paranoid and that destroyer’s Captain is insane. I’m also hoping any hiding ships are going to make a break for it to get away from us. But I don’t think so.”

Both men fell silent after that, watching and waiting…and just when the destroyer was approximately the same distance away from them as the planet additional ships began appearing around its horizon and accelerating towards them.

Mahansey exchanged glances as the counter ticked up. Three cruisers…then another destroyer…then another cruiser…

At the end it was 9 ships in total, five cruisers and four destroyers plus the one already on approach, making it five and five.

10 ships against his light battleship, the corvette, and a nearly weaponless freighter that couldn’t outrun any of them.

“How did they know we’d come here?” the Captain finally asked.

“Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t,” Aatroxiss said, his voice going eerily calm. “It could be this is where they were hiding. Notice the IDs on the cruisers?”

“The two we lost at Colony #01,” he said angrily. “So now those nubots are going to attack us?”

“The odds are better here, and they know they have nowhere to permanently run to. They’ve already demonstrated a desire to eliminate this ship, but I don’t believe they expected us to be traveling with a transport. They can force our hand to fight them or surrender it to them. I think that’s why they’re engaging.”

“Should we evacuate the freighter?”

“Not yet. Get the pilots into their starfighters. All three squadrons, and get them into space now…”

Pilot 3rd Class Fenris Shoguta was asleep when the alarm blared, and he was still half asleep as he pulled himself into his T9’s cockpit and ran through the preflight checklist by habit. Then he was launched into space and ordered to escort the freighter and corvette ahead of them as the Redemption was clearly putting on the brakes and falling behind them fast.

“Markinson, what’s going on?” he asked his squadron leader.

“The fren if I know,” the 1st Class Pilot answered honestly, then checked his scanner board. “Drek…drek, drek!”

“What?” Fenris asked, belatedly seeing what he saw. “10 warships?”

“Where did they come from?” Brendan Killmer asked, flying just off Fenris’s right wing stub.

“The Grand Admiral is taking on all ten?!” another pilot half yelled before Markinson broke back in.

“Enough!” he said, getting himself under control. “They’re here, we’re here, we’ve got to deal with this. None of those ships are large enough to carry fighters, and we’ve been ordered to protect the transport, not screen the Redemption. We’ve also got the corvette to help us, but we’re to make best speed to the jumppoint.”

“Can we even fit in that thing?” someone else asked.

“The Redemption is going down to save a freighter?” Killmer cut in. “Just let it burn. What is the Admiral thinking?”

“I’m thinking that we’ve got our orders and the easy part of this,” Markinson bit back. “If one or more of those ships come after us, it’s less for the Redemption to deal with, and we can take a destroyer with all three squadrons, maybe two with the corvette’s help.”

“Yeah, and lose most of the squadron,” Fenris added, but before Markinson could chew him out a widespread comm broke through from the Redemption.

“I know many of you are doing the math in your head, and your Imperial training says three cruisers are an even match for a light battleship,” Aatroxiss said glacially calm. “Four are the equivalent of a regular battleship. We are facing five along with five more destroyers and I’ve sent our fighters away, weakening us further.”

“No drek,” Fenris said under his breath.

“But I wasn’t appointed Grand Admiral for my Imperial training. I educated the High Command on the battlefield numerous times, winning almost every single battle I fought against the Empire using alien fleets. This time I’ve got an Imperial battleship and crew,” Aatroxiss said, fudging a little. He knew aliens weren’t all inferior to Vixot, but the Empire believed otherwise so it would make sense to them.

“I also know that Imperials are stupid, as you were when I first arrived. You still have much to learn, but you’ve improved considerably above the standard Imperial officers and crewmembers. Because of this and my past experience in destroying Imperial fleets, I know that we will win this battle. You do not need to understand why or how, and I have no time to explain it to you. Follow my orders precisely and do not panic. Panic serves little purpose in a situation like this other than to cause you to make mistakes. So let them panic…and they will…while you hold steady and stick to your assignments.”

“He is out of his mind,” Killmer said on a private channel to Fenris.

“Shut it.”

“If I am wrong and we end up about to lose this battle, I will order the Redemption to leave and outrun the enemy. If I have not done so, assume we still have a path to victory no matter how badly things appear to be going. I need each and every one of you to perform your duties as you have been trained to do. We do not have a significant advantage here, and the Redemption will take damage in this battle. But I will not give these traitors a free freighter while we run away. This is winnable, and though I had not expected this to occur, it is a chance to show the Yellow Empire why the Green Empire is superior, and a chance for you to see firsthand why the High Command fears the Keeno Order.”

Fenris winced when the Grand Admiral said that last line. His calm, almost soothing voice literally turned into a growl. And in that moment his fear of the enemy flipped into fear of being on the opposite side against the Keeno. They’d been taught they were monsters, and even though Fenris had only heard his voice, he could have swore the Grand Admiral had been showing his fangs when he said that.

“Anyone want to complain more?” Markinson asked after the Grand Admiral had finished as the Redemption shrank to a dot behind them enroute to engage the enemy.

“Just glad to be Green, sir,” Fenris said, hearing similar comments from the others.

“Form up off the aft of the transport. That’s our parking zone until someone catches up to us…and it doesn’t look like any of those ships are peeling off to chase us. They’re all going for the Grand Admiral.”

“So we just stay here and run with the transport?” Killmer asked.

“No, we stay put until we’re ordered elsewhere. If we don’t know what the Grand Admiral is planning, I doubt the other guys do either. So we just play this moment by moment. He says we stay here, then we stay here, but be ready to move the moment we get different orders…so no sleeping and letting your bot navigate for you. If he calls us back, I want us moving immediately...

19

“Helm, flip us over,” Aatroxiss said, standing in front of the holographic display that showed the 11 Imperial warships approaching one another. “I want us going in tail first.”

“Ah…yes, sir,” the helmsman said, not sure what to make of that. The battleship could be flown in any direction thanks to its gravity drives, but the heaviest concentration of weapons were on the forward hull.

“Weapons Master, I need linked salvos onto their weapons batteries. Penetrate their shields, destroy the weapon, move on to the next. If you can’t do that we lose this fight.”

“We won’t let you down, Admiral,” Commander Dein said, having taken control of the weapons section personally for this battle. “Do we have priority targets?”

“Unless I specify, shoot the easiest weapon emplacement within range. The more we take out, the longer our shields last. Their gunners are going to be sporadically firing on us trying to take our shields down first. We’re not going to play that game. Point overload their shields and take their weapons out, and make sure you link salvos large enough to get the job done. Overkill is underrated,” Aatroxiss said, reiterating a lesson from their combat drills.

“Understood,” Dein said, then began organizing his weapon teams. He needed to get enough shots on a precise location on the enemy ships at almost the exact same instant to have a chance of punching through or, if they were lucky, catching the enemy weapons when their shields were momentarily down to release their own salvo. That opening was a fraction of a mito, but if they threw 6 or more shots at it that landed not exactly at the same time, often they’d get lucky and slide one in. If they didn’t, they’d batter the shield at that point so much it would be a race between their destructive damage and the ability of the shield matrix to flow energy from the surrounding areas to compensate for it.

So Dein had to make sure all the shots hit, or have more than enough shots fired expecting some to miss the precise spot. In this way, overkill was underrated, and for the cruisers he knew from drill experience that they needed at least 12 gun batteries working together to have a chance of a breach. So he did like before and organized them into 16s…but that only worked if the enemy ship stood still. If it moved around some batteries would come into the firing line while others went out, so he couldn’t just order the same 16 to fire on the given targets.

That’s why the Grand Admiral had them create new software and train with it. The gun batteries would be given targets according to which were in range, and the software would switch them from one group to another based on what was in their firing line. Altogether the Redemption had 288 turboblaster batteries spread around the ship, but they couldn’t all fire simultaneously at the same target. But if they were facing multiple ships and those ships surrounded them, Dein would be faced with a lot of targets and too little time to reset firing groups.

Typical naval warfare just had you shoot the ship to diminish then destroy the Hyden shields that flowed shield matrix energy from one emitter to another. The only way to get through was to take down the entire ship’s shield matrix, except from a point overload. The E-DS7 were designed to do that in a single shot, but the rest of the Imperial Fleet never bothered to try to do it with linked salvos…for their gunners simply weren’t good enough and they refused to turn targeting control over to bots.

The Grand Admiral didn’t want to use bots either, because their thinking was restricted to circumstances the programmers had envisioned. If you encountered something unanticipated, bots tended to react by getting as close a match to their programming as possible, which had historically led to some horrific consequences.

But Aatroxiss knew computer assisted fire was superior to both if the crews were skilled enough to use it. In their drills the Redemption’s crew was passing the minimum standard with regularity, but that didn’t make them anything near to good. Which was another reason why overkill was underrated when it came to coordinated firing.

“Captain, you have firing control of the main guns. We cannot fight this battle with the intent to disable. We have to destroy those ships or we will be destroyed. You will therefore only fire the main guns when you have a shot to penetrate to their reactors. Do not waste the charges on any other location.”

Mahansey stiffened. Targeting reactors usually required beating down a ship’s shields and then pounding through its armor plating before you’d even have a chance at damaging the reactors. He knew he couldn’t one shot any of the ships out there, but the two main guns gave the battleship knockdown power the cruisers and destroyers lacked. They were the two most valuable weapons in this coming battle, and Aatroxiss was giving them to him.

Which meant the Captain wouldn’t have time to monitor anything else. He’d had to be staring at his console, making sure the guns didn’t overload, and picking his targets while Aatroxiss commanded the ship in his place.

“Understood, Admiral,” he said, retreating to his Captain’s chair. “Commander, send me firing control.”

“Done, sir.”

“What do you want me shooting first?” he asked Aatroxiss, knowing that the guns only had a limited forward firing arc.

“The shieldless cruiser,” he said simply.

Mahansey frowned, glancing at the sensor link to his console. All the approaching cruisers had their shields fully deployed.

“Admiral?”

Aatroxiss ignored him. “Helmsman, stand up.”

“Sir?” the Hexdra said, looking back over his shoulder as the Grand Admiral walked to the edge of the elevated platform and stepped off, dropping down beside him.

“You’re a decent pilot, but you haven’t been trained for what I need you to do. Stand up and wait here,” he said, pointing to a spot of floor nearby.

The Hexdra did as ordered, then Aatroxiss sat down in the pilot’s seat and reset the control board to his liking while saving the previous settings to a single button recall for when he was done.

“Shield control,” he yelled out over his right shoulder. “On my command, you are to lower the shields over the port pylon but maintain their matrixes in standby mode. On my second command you will raise them again.”

“Admiral?” the shield controller reflexively said, then realized his mistake. “Yes, sir. Do you want the entire pylon back to the main shaft exposed?”

“One half coverage will be sufficient. Commander Wexxis,” he yelled even louder to get around the curve of the crew pit. “Evacuate the outer decks in the exposed area immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” the Commander said, snapping into action. As he did so the rest of the crew took the queue. The Admiral was behaving oddly, for he’d never been down in the crew pit before, but they needed to response to his orders instantly. This was about to be a real battle, not a simulated one, and if the Admiral had been insistent on anything it was to know your job and not to hesitate. Every hesitation was as dangerous as a gap in the shields.

Such as the gap Aatroxiss had just ordered to be created.

“All weapons fire at will when you come within range,” he said, then focused on piloting the ship backwards, with the main shaft of the ‘T’ heading forward. There was plenty of weaponry on it, but the two pylons coming out from the other end held sealed hangar bay doors rather than a lot of weapons. It was the other side of the pylons, across the top of the ‘T’ that held the most…including the main guns.

Aatroxiss started the ship spinning slowly as the other ‘T’-shaped cruisers and stretched hexagons that were the destroyers approached in formation. None spun or turned at all, as if they were locked into an alignment as Aatroxiss headed for the middle of their formation.

Weapons on both sides began firing at maximum range, with neither side’s penetrating. Shields began taking hits and slowly draining, with the Weapons Master focusing fire on two cruisers only ahead of them. That would change once they were inside the enemy fleet formation, but for now that made more sense than firing a few shots at everyone that could easily be replenished in the shield matrix by the ship reactors. But one ship couldn’t recharge another ship’s shields, so concentrating fire was better than spreading it out.

That was a simple lesson the crew had already learned, and without having to remind them Aatroxiss saw they were remembering.

He kept the battleship spinning for multiple reasons. One, was it made the enemy gunners have to maneuver their guns around to fire on the same spot. It did the same for his crew, but they had been training for this and he doubted the traitors had been implementing his training programs. Most likely they’d just deleted them out of spite.

The second reason was to confuse the enemy, for warships didn’t behave like this.

The third reason was that the only part of the ship that was relatively still was the base of the ‘T’, and while it was rotating it appeared to stay in the same spot. And he was pleased to see a lot of enemy fire focusing on that location. It would cause them to have to think when he ordered the shields dropped on the port pylon…would they switch targets or continue with their current one? And the shieldless one would be spinning more than the rest of the ship, making any shots against it spread out randomly across the armor plating and it unlikely that they could target individual weapon batteries, airlocks, shield generators, or other equipment that was on the hull but usually covered by the shields.

Every little advantage mattered in battle, and in life for that matter, and Aatroxiss was just going to stack as many as he could and throw it at the traitors. How well they responded would determine who won this battle, for even a novice Keeno commanding the other force could beat him with the ships assembled. His equipment disadvantage was just too high to overcome, even with the battleship’s main guns. And he needed to start reducing it quickly.

The turboblaster fire increased in intensity as the weaker weapons also started to come within range on all ships, with the enemy starting to decrease speed so not to overshoot the Redemption. That told Aatroxiss that they were just going to null out trajectories and try to pound her into oblivion at pointblank range.

Typical Imperial combat philosophy.

Aatroxiss aimed for the center of their formation and the gap between two of the cruisers that did not have a destroyer anywhere near it. It was actually the starboard side of the center, for the five cruisers were arrayed in a line and the destroyers were situated around them and slightly ahead.

The Grand Admiral did not slow as much as the enemy wanted him to, so they started reversing course trying to get that null speed differential, but he wouldn’t allow it. He slid the ship between the two cruisers with barely enough room to spare without hitting them.

As he did so he stopped the twisting and leveled out the pylons.

“Drop the pylon shield now!” he ordered, twisting the ship to port and in jeopardy of collision.

The helmsman on the cruiser, to his credit, reacted instantly and the ship began to drift further away, but it couldn’t make any sudden movements with another cruiser on the other side…and even if it had made a sudden movement, the light battleship’s engines were superior and could have matched it. But bunched up as they were, it didn’t move much and the port pylon of the Redemption scraped across the flat top of the cruiser and gouged down into it, hull against shields, with Aatroxiss deliberately dragging the box-like edge of his pylon across the ship and avoiding their pylon.

He didn’t want a ram, he just wanted enough collision to drain their shields to nothing…which he got, along with several outer decks of his ship being chewed off in the process.

The Redemption broke contact and passed behind the enemy formation, with Aatroxiss immediately beginning to bring the ship upwards as its main forward weaponry was now pointed at the rear side of the enemy fleet.

“Restore shields,” he ordered, guessing that the few generators that might have been lost could be overlapped by adjacent ones. He shouldn’t have lost enough to create a gap, while the cruiser’s shield energy had been completely exhausted blocking the physical impact up until the end, leaving only a small scrape on the top of its hull compared to the ugly damage done to the Redemption.

But that damage was then covered with shields again, leaving the cruiser with just its armor and its reactors trying to rebuild shield matrixes in all its intact emitters.

“Captain, make it count,” he yelled, maneuvering the battleship up over to the top of it with the ‘hammer’ of the ‘T’ pointing down at the stalk vaguely in the direction of where the primary reactors were located.

Before he could say anything else one of the main cannons fired, it’s topaz energy beam hitting the cruiser’s armor and soaking into it with a shower of what looked like dust coming off, but on closer inspection would be shards of armor mixed with vaporized material. When the beam abated the hull armor on that spot was completely gone, but with minimal damage below. The armor had done its job, taking the hit, and now the ship should rotate around to take the damaged area out of the Redemption’s firing arc…but they didn’t. And with only a slight pause the second main cannon fired…with the Captain’s aim being true enough to hit the hole in the armor.

The second topaz beam cut through what fragments remained and down into the section of the ship that contained the reactors. The glow from the beam barely had time to dissipate from Aatroxiss’s eyes before it was replaced by an interior light coming out of the hole followed by a geyser of material.

The cruiser also plumped around that section, inner decks being smashed together by the reactor breaches but the hull armor and superstructure mostly holding intact. However, the interior of the ship in that area was gutted, and even with smaller auxiliary reactors in the forward section of the ship remaining, almost everything on the warship went dead, including all of its weaponry.

“Weapons Master,” Aatroxiss yelled, shocking his crew back into action, for they were stunned at the sudden takedown of a ship that normally had to be beat on for ahshos before achieving armor penetration and such catastrophic damage, “priority targeting to the ships firing at us. If you have no other targets available, only then fire on that cruiser and only target its weapons batteries. I want no wasted shots against hull, and no wasted shots on it when you can be shooting one of the batteries that currently have power.”

“On it,” Commander Dein said, getting his wits about him faster than the rest of the crew as Aatroxiss pulled the Redemption in close to the cruiser they’d just wrecked, but on the other side from the geyser that was still spilling out debris that, if rammed, would eat away a little of the shield strength, and he couldn’t afford any of that.

With the larger battleship tucking underneath the cruiser as if it was a turtle shell, the exchange of fire between weapons batteries continued heavily, with the enemy formation altering chaotically. Two destroyers nearly ran into each other trying to reposition to bring more of their batteries into alignment, and the other cruisers were no better. The nearest one pulled back, fearing another ram, while the other three held to their linear alignment with very few of their batteries able to target the Redemption past the hulks of their fellow ships.

Which meant the firepower coming in and having to be soaked up by the battleship’s shields was minimal compared to what it would have been otherwise. Normally in space there was no terrain to hide behind, but Aatroxiss had fought enough battles to know that existing ships and damaged ships provided that terrain, and now there was a small mountain the enemy fleet had to maneuver around in the floating hulk of the damaged cruiser, and like typical Imperials they had no training for how to use it to their advantage.

Aatroxiss spun the Redemption around as if it was on a swivel so it’s forward weaponry could target the cruiser on its flank. There were two on either side of the central one that they’d taken out, and the nearest one had drifted up and away, leaving a single one on this side and two on the other. Aatroxiss squeezed up a little around his terrain to bring the far one on the other side almost completely out of line as he gave Mahansey another shot at the single cruiser dead ahead while the retreating one was drifting unsure what it should do overtop and firing down relentlessly all across the battleship’s shields with no hope of instantaneous penetration.

The Captain fired off a partial blast, not having had enough time to reach 90% again on either gun, but the one shot he did fire hit at 38% charge and sucked a chunk of energy out of the cruiser’s shields before penetrating. Mahansey hadn’t been targeting any specific weapons, just the approximate place on the side of the ‘T’ stalk that held the reactors…and the helmsman on the enemy ship still had not twisted the ship around to face them, meaning the forward hammerhead wasn’t in the way.

Aatroxiss didn’t say anything, glad that Mahansey had seen the opportunity, but after that shot hit and did some damage, the shields flowed back over the breach and the helmsman finally began pivoting the cruiser to bring its forward weaponry to bear on the ship while the one overhead just hung there pointed the wrong way and firing with every battery that was in line of sight.

As the cruisers wavered in their decision making, the destroyers began to maneuver around much faster and get on the Redemption’s side of the ‘mountain’ it was hiding behind. Aatroxiss slowly pivoted around to face one, making it look like the ship was just randomly moving, then Mahansey fired the other main cannon at it, not bothering to aim for the central reactors, for it was pretty much just a flat brick.

The shot hit at 67% intensity and breached the shields almost instantly. The front of the destroyer blew off a chunk of hull greater than what the Redemption had peeled off with its graze, and suddenly the forward firepower of the destroyer was almost completely gone even as the shields partially regenerated over the breach. Too many emitters were lost, so it couldn’t cover the entire gap, leaving a small area without shields.

The destroyer began to spin, both to bring other weaponry to bear as well as to get that vulnerability away from the gunners on the battleship…except none of them were shooting at it. They were all aiming for weapons batteries on the nearest cruiser.

Aatroxiss couldn’t tell from the helmsman position how effective they were being, but he could see the incoming shots and some of those glowing lines reducing in number.

“Comm Officer, order the fighters to return at maximum speed but keep the corvette with the transport. If any of these ships breaks off to chase the transport, the fighters are to immediately redivert to engage it.”

“Yes, sirrrr!” the officer said a little too enthusiastically given the fact that they were still heavily outnumbered.

Aatroxiss moved the Redemption away from its cover and raced towards the cruiser Mahansey had already shot. It didn’t maneuver, rather holding position, and Aatroxiss curled the bigger ship up and around behind it, bringing his main guns into line while the cruiser didn’t twist to bring its hammerhead around. It was one of the dumbest mistakes Imperial made, and this engagement was no exception. They treated the capitol ships like floating islands and rarely did more than troll them around. Aatroxiss was flying it more like a shuttle or fighter, and it was something he was slowly teaching his crew of naval pilots how to do, but none of them were at the level they needed to be for this engagement…and thankfully none of the enemy were as well.

So they just sat there and let Aatroxiss use them as a blocker against a lot, but not all of the incoming fire from the rest of the fleet. The destroyers were quickest to reposition, while one of the other cruisers was still sitting still and the other was only lazily maneuvering up and over the dead hulk to get a decent shot.

Meanwhile the Redemption was getting pounded on from the cruiser above and the one it was almost touching now. The turboblasters couldn’t miss at such close range and the gauntlet between them was constantly filled with the light. Then Mahansey fired another low level main cannon blast and sucked so much energy out of the cruiser’s shields before impact that a lot of the linked fire from two or three of the Redmeption’s batteries were enough to spot penetrate and destroy weapons.

There was no way to link 16 batteries together at this close range. The guns couldn’t pivot enough to shoot individual spots, but the training he’d given them had covered close range fights and his gunners adjusted as was expected of them…while the cruiser’s gunners just fired into the big ship anywhere they could with no strategy.

Another small discharge from the second main gun finished what was left of the cruiser’s port shields, and still it didn’t rotate around to bring the intact starboard shield generators into play as they began to regenerate almost immediately with no one firing on that half of the ship.

The Shield Officer on warships had multiple options for how to configure them. The most basic was total coverage, meaning the power from one area of the ship would flow to other areas when needed. But you could also segment them into specific areas, like the Redemption had done when it lowered only a piece of them. And the more emitters you had, the stronger and faster the shield would regenerate. So when the target cruiser was losing those generators on one side, it couldn’t flow enough energy from the other to get to them in any meaningful way. The proper response would be to roll the ship and disable those remaining generators, putting all power into the starboard shields.

But this cruiser just sat there, firing what weapons it had as the Redemption tore its flank to pieces and Aatroxiss slowly walked the ship up and around so his gunners could target a few more weapons batteries. He did this, slowly neutralizing the ship’s weaponry, but did it without the hammerhead pointing at it. That he allowed to drift up towards the cruiser over top them.

Finally that one rotated around to put the hammerhead into position, but when the other two cruisers came over top of the hulk to join in with it, Aatroxiss rotated the battleship underneath the one they were still engaging with at pointblank range, denying a lot of shots from the other three as his gunners peeled more and more weapons off the nearest one.

Mahansey didn’t have a clear shot at anything at the moment, so he just let the guns keep charging. The Admiral had said not to waste shots, and while he couldn’t let them overcharge he wanted more than 30% shots. He noticed the port pylon’s shields finally go down and the enemy began hammering the hull plates there without the other shields on the ship diverting energy to compensate.

Before being transferred to the Grand Admiral he would have shot his Shield Officer on the spot for allowing that to happen, but this is the way Aatroxiss had been teaching them. Already there were less emitters and weaponry on that pylon because of the collision, and if the enemy wanted to waste shots into the hull armor instead of diverting it to the existing shields, then so be it. All the guns underneath those shields would continue to fire and do damage to the enemy, and even if the now exposed guns on the port pylon were taken out their gunners were not located that close to the hull, and as soon as their guns would be destroyed they’d evacuate even deeper into the ship.

So the Grand Admiral had taught the Shield Officer to use damaged sections of the ship like a lure, and he saw the ship rotating around to put that lure where the Grand Admiral wanted it…and to give him a good shot at another nearby destroyer that had wisely moved around behind them, taking both stricken cruisers out of its firing line.

The Captain decided to change tactics and fired two spurts from the same cannon to different locations on the destroyer, soaking up shield energy but not penetrating. That meant the hull plates had absorbed none of it…and the shields had to take all of it. That meant there was less shield strength to protect the ship against the rest of the Redemption’s guns, and he soon saw them start to penetrate with even lazy overlaps of fire…and as ordered, they did not try to break the hull or target anything other than weapons, with them plucking them from the destroyer with alarming ease.

Was this how the Keeno had led aliens to victory after victory against the Empire? It seemed so simple, and yet the Imperial Fleet had never taught him these tactics or how to defend against them. It was always ‘knock the shields down, burn away the armor, then force a surrender or go for the reactors.’

The entire Imperial combat manual told him to try to disable weapons by taking out their power conduits, not shooting for the weapons themselves. Hit a ship hard enough in its flank and rows of guns would go offline. That’s how combat usually worked. This individual targeting seemed pointless, because every time the Admiral’s ship took an enemy weapon offline they didn’t try to bore down through the armor at that weak point.

That was another tactic the Empire taught. Airlocks, hangars, and weapons batteries were places where the armor was weak, so shoot those spots and keep shooting, getting as many shots to the interior of the ship as possible and hope to hit something vital. The cruiser kissing up against the Redemption had almost no hull damage other than what the main cannons had done…and yet the number of weapons batteries it had left to fire back at them was decreasing drastically.

The Captain’s other main gun he let continue to charge, and when Aatroxiss had finally stopped hiding behind this cruiser he turned and accelerated at the one above, which was pounding the port pylon for all it was worth. Chunks of hull armor were coming off, and as per Imperial protocol, they were sliding as many shots into the breach as possible…but Aatroxiss made the ship spin again, bringing that worst-damaged section out of alignment as their hammerhead crossed the cruiser and Mahansey fired a 78% shot at it.

Aatroxiss then slightly twisted the ship, bring the port pylon out of alignment but letting the weaponry along the stalk of the ‘T’ get in range of the cruiser ahead while the rest of the ship’s batteries fired at the further off ships in the enemy fleet…and just like he had before, Aatroxiss literally wrapped the Redemption around the target cruiser and began chewing away at pointblank range knowing that what was left of the battleship’s shields were more than the cruiser had after Mahansey landed that shot.

By the time the enemy fleet wised up to what was going on, three cruisers were more or less out of the fight. Two of them still had power and maneuvering, but very few weapons left on their hulls. Two destroyers were heavily damaged but the other three were virtually untouched. That left two mostly intact cruisers that were pairing up and approaching the Redemption side by side but too close for the ship to fit between to slug it out with the other remaining capitol ship.

The Redemption, however, was not in a good position with five destroyers picking at it, so Aatroxiss maneuvered around one of the cruisers that was still firing on it with a few weapons…picking those weapons batteries off as it looped around and headed back for the dead one and staked out a position there, making the two cruisers follow and break up if they wanted to get a clear shot. They didn’t seem to want to do that and hesitated, leaving only the destroyers to engage the parts of the Redemption that were not sticking outside the silhouette of the dead cruiser.

The pieces that were sticking out were taking massive fire from the two cruisers, then another main cannon blast tore into a third destroyer and the odds started to shift considerably even before the fighters returned. Aatroxiss was shielding the ship from so many shots by blocking the firing lines of the enemy guns that he was lengthening out this engagement while taking away the enemy’s ability to shoot back. And as the five destroyers picked at the ship and got the starboard pylon’s shields to fall and expose the hull to their shots, the number of turboblasters they had remaining on their ships was dropping fast.

Mahansey didn’t go for any reactor shots on the destroyers, deciding to help the rest of the guns by only firing into them at what he thought their remaining shields could absorb and breaking up his big blasts into several shorter ones, almost like a slow firing machine gun. By the time the two cruisers had finally decided to flank the dead cruiser on opposite sides and came in at the Redemption, the fighter squadrons had caught up and the Starfighter Controller sent them against the destroyers to help pick off their remaining gun batteries.

That left two largely intact cruisers against a half shieldless and damaged light battleship…but one with a big rock in space to hide behind.

Aatroxiss played catch around that rock, blocking the fire of one of the cruisers at all times, and when it circled around to try to join it he moved the other way, making his ship fight 1.2 or 1.4 cruisers rather than stand out in the open and slug it out with two of them. Still, the stalk shields on his ship finally went down and its hull armor started taking hits before either cruiser lost their shields.

But when Mahansey no longer had the impotent destroyers to assist with, he landed several intense shots into whatever cruiser Aatroxiss had in view at the time and the numbers started adding up. The Redemption’s crew kept point overloading the shields and knocking out individual guns so well that a third of those cruisers’ weapons were already offline before their shields finally fell.

The last bits of battle involved both shieldless cruisers against a now totally shieldless Redemption, each exchanging hull shots but with the traitors shooting for the innards while the Redemption shot for the others’ guns and the fighters came in to assist, not being targeted at all as every weapon…even those intended for anti-fighter operations…were aimed at the Redemption. They had her shields down and several hull points breached, and they weren’t going to spare any fire against the pesky fighters.

But those fighters, without having to beat through capitol ship shields, were able to pluck weapons off quickly and accurately from the far side of the cruisers while the Redemption took them off the near side. So when the Redemption rolled to take the badly damaged sections of the ship out of the firing line and bring other guns into play, the cruisers could not do the same…because they had no other guns to come into play.

And suddenly there were still a lot of mobile ships out there that had only a handful of weapons batteries still remaining on their ships and with fighter squadrons chasing those few guns down aggressively.

One of the two cruisers started to run, but Aatroxiss kept them nearby long enough to get IDF missiles…from the launchers that still worked…on top of them, and he had Mahansey fire directly into their reactors with a single shot.

The detonation was less spectacular, probably only hitting one or two reactors, but the ship lost half its power and the other reactors must have shut down for lack of connecting power lines. The piece of the ship that broke off and disintegrated was less than 10% of the hull, but the cruiser wasn’t going to go anywhere at a pace faster than a limp.

When Aatroxiss turned the Redemption back around and returned to the other impotent ships that had began to drift in different directions in a prelude to a potential escape, the surrender requests started flooding in. The battleship had lost a lot of guns, but it still had enough, including the two main cannons that nobody had thought to target due to the fact they were heavily armored over, to destroy every fleeing ship and the engine power to run them down even if they had a head start.

Aatroxiss finally stood up, his back now a bit sore from the unusual chair.

“All yours, Hexdra.”

“Th…thank you, sir,” he said as Aatroxiss leapt back up to the raised deck without bothering to use a staircase. “That was…amazing.”

“With time and training it will become normal, helmsman. Study what I did here and learn from it. I need pilots on all my warships capable of this. I can’t be physically present on all of them simultaneously.”

“No, sir…I mean, yes, sir. I will,” he said, retaking his seat now that he didn’t have much to do other than navigate around the beaten ships.

“This battle is not over yet,” Aatroxiss said as everyone seemed to be sighing in relief. “Those ships can still run or ram us. They’re just too scared right now to think clearly. This battle isn’t over until we have control of those ships or they’re debris, and I’d rather salvage as much of them as we can. Captain, I’ll take the main guns. Start organizing boarding parties and see to damage control.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, wiping clear the main cannon systems from his control board and starting to use them to assess the ship’s damage as well as getting General Hacking up to speed on what needed to be done, along with picking which ships to board first and analyzing what threat potential they had left.

“Also,” Aatroxiss said, returning to his Admiral’s chair as the Weapons Master shunted firing control to him without having to be asked. “There are escape pods out there. Get some shuttles to collect them when not needed by the boarding parties,” he said, firing off two partial salvos into empty space so the main guns wouldn’t overload.

“Right,” Mahansey said, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Hold it together a little longer,” Aatroxiss whispered. “This is the easy part many people screw up because they let go. Victory is ours unless we squander it. The more battles you fight the easier it gets, so just stay with me here even as your body starts to wind down.”

“I’m good, sir. I’m a Captain. We don’t sleep anyway.”

“Incorrect facts, but correct sentiment,” he whispered, then spoke normally to address the bridge crew. “We have work to do people. You can rest later. It’s a lot easier to capture an enemy ship and repurpose it than to get a new one out of the shipyards. I do not want to waste these ships because you lost focus. The battle isn’t over until they are destroyed or we control them. The hard part is over, but we can still suffer losses if you don’t hold your nerve. Your adrenaline is going to kick off and you’re going to get jitters and need to sleep. Fight through it, stay on task. You’ll get relieved shortly as Commander Wexxis organizes a special bridge shift. Just stay on task until they get here.”

The Admiral said it, looking in the Commander’s direction. To his credit he took it as an order immediately and began calling up replacement bridge officers that had been stuck in their quarters during the battle. Once they got up here they’d essentially be fresh and the problem would be solved. Until then Aatroxiss had to keep everyone focused and geared up, because a calm mind right now would immediately default into drowsy eyes and an intense need to curl up in a ball and sleep.

He'd been through battles like this before, they had not. And it wasn’t something you could completely train for, but as he looked around while keeping an eye on the tactic situation, everyone looked solid. He knew they’d feel anything but solid on the inside, but as long as they could hold it together for this last stretch, they’d come out of this tomorrow, after a good sleep, stronger officers than they were today. If they crashed before the finish line, it would be a failure that would eat away at their confidence and leave them fearful the next time they went into battle rather than with a sense of knowing what was coming and that they were capable of handling it.

“Admiral, I have one of the cruisers requesting to speak with you.”

“Denied. Inform them they will be boarded and they can speak with the troopers in person.”

After a few moments the Comm officer shook his head. “Sir, they say they’re not surrendering.”

Before Aatroxiss could reply that cruiser exploded outward in several bursts of painfully white light. It broke apart into pieces, and then those pieces broke apart even more as debris from further inside the ship rammed them. Within moments the cruiser was no more, leaving behind a rapidly expanding debris field that was going to collide with other ships.

“Helmsman, evasive now!” he ordered. “Shields, whatever you’ve got working throw them up in the direction of the blast.”

The Redemption moved further away, with considerable time to spare, but the other ships were a mixed bag. Some moved, some didn’t, and some moved but didn’t move fast enough and got hit with debris. Not enough to destroy them, but it did considerable damage to their mostly intact hulls and imparted enough momentum to cause them to list, with a destroyer nearly drifting into a cruiser before it corrected just in time.

“Captain, hold the boarding parties,” Aatroxiss said, walking up to the main holo display and seeing that the fighters had moved out of the way in time that none of them got hit while they patrolled the area, though one came awfully close. “Comm, put me through to all ships.’

The Comms officer gave him a thumbs up, indicating that the bridge mic was now activated and could pick him up from anywhere on the command deck.

“Attention all ships. Given the despicable action of the cruiser you just witnessed, you are hereby ordered to evacuate your ships in escape pods and whatever shuttles you have. You will be picked up eventually, but I will not risk my boarding parties having your ships blow up in their faces. Failure to evacuate your ships will result in me destroying them. You have 10 ahsho to make your choice,” he said, signaling the Comms officer with a finger to end transmission.

He walked back to his Admiral’s seat and glanced at the controls, making sure he hadn’t accidentally left the main guns charging, then headed back to the hologram where he stayed put and watched the response as escape pods began emerging from the ships after a considerable delay, with many of them maneuvering into the shadow of the ships they were exiting to shield them from the still expanding debris cloud of the detonated cruiser.

Aatroxiss nodded, seeing that all ships were complying with his orders, and in numbers that suggested most, if not all of the crew were evacuating. There could still be some saboteurs remaining onboard…he couldn’t rule that out.

“Captain, have battle bot boarding parties confirm the ships are not rigged to explode, then get our troopers over there with five man naval crews to assess the situation. Everyone is to be wearing vacuum gear. I don’t want any mishaps to cost us more men now. There are enough dead already,” he said, turning back to the hologram of the carnage outside and remaining silent for a long time as the bridge crew carried out their tasks.

20

Illana had spent the battle inside her CYSO lair with a lot of her team that had nothing to do, so they recorded any and all transmissions being made from the other ships and put them into an ‘analyze later’ file and just waited to see if they would live through it. Personally Illana had no doubts…up until the ship collided with the cruiser. After that she was not so sure.

When the ship finally was the last one standing she began to relax…then a cruiser exploded, vexing her even more. It wasn’t until the battle stations indicator lights across the ship finally ceased that she was able to breathe a sigh of relief along with everyone else.

They weren’t able to get to work until 3 sulos later, digging through computer systems on the damaged ships, and then getting down to the surface of the moon and really collecting a lot of data. Most of it would probably be uninteresting junk, but it would give them something to pick through even if just for training’s sake. Lastly they got onboard the refueling station itself and compared the logs with those taken on the moon…finding they didn’t completely match.

The moon had a lot of infrastructure and sensors not meant for combat, but rather traffic control. Imperial ships coming to refuel would go to the station, not the moon, and apparently someone who had been cooking the books on the station hadn’t thought to cover their tracks in the benign sensor logs kept by the moon.

A great many more ships were refueling at the station than the station logs indicated, and while the moon’s systems couldn’t give amounts transferred, only arrival times and sensor data, it allowed Illana to actually do something useful in this system and present it to Aatroxiss days later.

“I’ve got IDs on all the ships, assuming they weren’t falsifying their beacons,” she said, sitting down at a table in his quarters as soon as the chefs left and resuming their chat. “If you can hold this system, there are going to be a lot of rogue ships running out of fuel.”

“If?” Aatroxiss asked, sitting down opposite her at the table full of foodstuffs, some cold, some warm, and a series of beverages for their choosing. The ship’s Chefs always put more here than he was likely to eat, and today had been no exception.

“This ship isn’t exactly in full working order,” she said, pausing to take a bite of a biscuit. “What if a fleet of rogues show up before the corvette gets back with reinforcements?”

“We only lost two gravity drives in the battle. We’ll still be faster than them, and with the navigational satellites operating again they won’t be able to sneak up on us.”

“That transport’s still here,” she added, spooning some red nutrient goo onto her half-eaten biscuit.

“We can move it or abandon it if necessary. But if it tucks into the refueling station it should be well protected.”

“Why didn’t you do that the first time then?”

“We didn’t control the fuel station and it was on the other side of the attacking fleet.”

Illana frowned at herself. “Right. I’m dumb. Sorry. How many ships can the fuel station fight off?”

“A few small ones. It’s not a Starbase, but it can shield the ships docked with it while they refuel. I’m not worried about another battle.”

“Why not?”

“Those ships were hiding here, not waiting for us. No couriers got away, so nobody knows this battle even happened. It would have to be a group of rogue ships showing up together for refueling, in great enough numbers to defeat a battleship, to be of concern.”

“Odds of that are low then?”

“Most Imperial planets have a cruiser or less to defend them. Ten ships here was an oddity that’s not likely to happen again.”

“What about all the ones I found?”

“They could be gathering elsewhere, but they don’t know we’re here. I chose a light battleship as my flagship so I could outrun any problems. If ICAP hadn’t killed Gorgo, that’s what we would have had to do.”

“And leave the convoy to him?”

“Better that than give him the convoy and the battleship.”

“So why did you risk this fight over a transport? There was time to evacuate it.”

He looked at her cooly, then raised an eyebrow in response.”

“Right, me being dumb again. We would have had to fight those ships later?”

“Possibly. Maybe they would have come in when they ran out of supplies. The more systems we get under our control the less options they have.”

“There are a lot of Imperial worlds left in the Frontier.”

“But how many of those can fully supply warships?”

“Point,” she conceded, taking a drink of flavored water with various vitamins added. “Btw, your ban on alcoholic beverages is not being taken very well.”

“It was never allowed on warships to begin with.”

“Yeah, but the crew could look forward to getting drunk when they were on leave. Now they can’t?”

“What leave?” Aatroxiss asked. Imperial ships rarely cycled out crews, and whatever leave they got was when the ship itself was either stationed at a planet or station that could accommodate them. Even then it was rare. Imperial crews were meant to crew the ship. If they wanted time off they could resign at the end of their term of service. Most did, having spent a number of years earning pay that they had little to spend on, then that pay would sustain them past the military comfortably.

“Exactly. When are you going to give them a chance to get off the ship? We’re more than 3 years into this endeavor and there hasn’t been a single day of leave.”

“The Empire is a lot less liberal with leave than your father’s unit, Illana.”

“Yeah, but you’re not the Empire, so why haven’t you worked it in?”

“If you choose to be a soldier, you’re a soldier full time, not part time.”

“So you don’t believe in giving them leave either?”

“It’s part of being in the Fleet. You go where the ship goes, and leave is usually just an opportunity for the crew to get into trouble.”

“Is that you or a Keeno thing?”

“Both,” he said, taking a moment to keep eating while she glared at him.

“So I’m not getting any leave then?”

“To go where?”

“I don’t know…it just shouldn’t feel like the crew are trapped here.”

“Here is far better than where a lot of them came from, Illana. You were rather spoiled.”

She pointed a finger at him. “You know that’s not what I meant. Are you really going to keep them onboard this ship until they term out? How is that different than conscription?”

“Professionals don’t take time off. And where exactly is safe out here to give shore leave to a portion of the crew?”

“There are a lot of Vixot planets out here.”

“Chartrik? You wanted to go down there?”

“Not me, but others could have. You didn’t give anyone the chance that wasn’t on detail.”

“What’s the purpose of leave?” he asked academically.

“To get away from work for a while. To recharge. To…”

“Get drunk?”

“That’s been known as a way to relax in some areas of the galaxy,” she said sarcastically.

“It’s also a way to get into trouble.”

“But you banned alcohol for the entire Frontier.”

“Of course.”

“How are you going to enforce that?”

“It’s simple. You don’t punish the people that drink it, you shut down the supply. Although, if its military members drinking it you do punish that.”

“So what, you shut down the production centers?”

“Yes.”

“And just put all those people out of work? What about the owners?”

“You can be nice about it, Illana. I also allowed for some exceptions.”

“Yeah, why? If it’s bad then it’s bad. Exceptions are hypocritical.”

“I can give exceptions for a specific time period, enough for certain businesses to transition rather than shut down. Also, some intoxicants have beneficial side effects that are useful in certain situations. Particularly medical ones.”

“So you’re just making it illegal for everyone except your hand-picked exceptions?”

“Yes. Why is that a problem?”

“Mercenaries live on alcohol, volnix, trano, kabba, and janyo.”

“I didn’t ban kabba or janyo.”

“You banned janyo from this ship. The cafeteria no longer serves it.”

“Because it’s nasty.”

“Says you.”

“It’s my ship.”

“Oh, so everybody has to restrict themselves to what you want to eat and drink.”

“Reliance on caffeine is a weakness. It’s not something I’m banning from the Frontier, but this ship will not operate on janyo (coffee).”

“Kabba has caffeine in it,” Illana countered.

“Lower levels only.”

“Unless it’s kabbita.”

“There isn’t any kabbita onboard, though thanks for reminding me. I’ll add that to the no-go list for the supply deck.”

She glared at him again. “You are no fun at all.”

“Some of the traditional fun is harmful, and the rest is a waste of time. I’m in the business of conquering planets and saving lives. Which is why I don’t care about shore leave. If the crew can’t learn to handle that, then they don’t deserve to be in the Fleet…let alone serve onboard the flagship.”

“You can only push them so hard before they crack,” she warned.

Aatroxiss leaned forward slightly. “I have a far greater knowledge of where that line actually is than you do, Illana. You’re forgetting I’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, about that,” she said, leaning in as well. “Exactly how old are you?”

“How old would I have to say to break your crush?”

“I’m being serious. How old are you?”

“I’m not saying,” Aatroxiss quipped as he went back to eating.

“Why is that classified information?”

“Because it’s classified information.”

“Ok, why is it classified? What are you worried about?”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about the Keeno, and it’s best if it’s left that way.”

“Like your healing ability?”

“Yes. We fight wars. Secrets are an advantage, so I’m not just going to throw them out to you for the asking.”

“Are you really worried that I’ll tell people? Chief of CYSO but I can’t keep secrets?”

“You already know a lot of my secrets.”

“So why not one more?”

“Will you stop at one, or will it always be one more?”

She stared at him for a moment. “Is it wrong to be curious?”

“No. I never said you couldn’t ask. I’m just not answering.”

“Fine. I won’t pry anymore. If you say you’re not going to answer something, I’ll just leave it at that…if you tell me how old you are.”

Aatroxiss sighed. “154.”

“Be serious.”

“I am.”

“The oldest Vixot ever recorded was 137. Why can’t you stop joking and just tell me the truth?”

Aatroxiss eyed her. “Now do you see why it’s an issue if people know?”

“You’re saying that’s not a joke?”

“It’s not a joke.”

She stared at him. “Your body isn’t that old. I’ve seen you in the shower.”

“You’re misconstruing age with damage, and I answered you. So no more prying into the how. My longevity is a secret I’m keeping. If someday I want to tell you, I’ll tell you. But you’re not going to get any more information for the asking.”

“I still can’t believe that.”

Aatroxiss downed half a glass of blue liquid. “Believe it or not, it’s the truth.”

“So you are older than the Emperor?”

“That I already told you.”

“I thought you were joking about that too.”

“Your mistake,” he said, returning to eating while she just stared at him and talked to herself.

“If you’re really that old, that means the other Keeno probably are too. But why wouldn’t that show up in Imperial records? Everyone’s birth date is recorded. You’d have to…fake dying and start a new identity to hide it. Is Aatroxiss your first name, or your umpteenth?”

“There’s no Imperial file for an Aatroxiss. The Order never registered with the Empire.”

“But the old masters were well known to the public.”

“We also don’t like being well known.”

“So what? You fake your death to restore your anonymity…” she said, catching a glance from him. “You do, don’t you? How old are the others?”

“In the past I would not have answered that question. But since I’m the oldest living survivor it’s pointless now.”

“That you know of. If you’re the oldest, how did they exile you? Wouldn’t that put you in charge?”

“I wasn’t exiled yesterday, Illana. It’s been a while and more Keeno have died since then.”

“Yeah but…how did you keep it quiet?”

“We’re sneaky,” he said, starting in on a plate of Shoni pods, one of a variety of genetically engineered plants designed to feed the Empire with larger produce than normal. And Shoni were one of only a few of the crop variants that the Empire’s geneticists hadn’t messed up, which was why Aatroxiss allowed it to be fed to the crew. The others that fed many planets were contaminated with trace bio-poisons that the Empire considered too small to matter. That, among many other things, was keeping Vixot lifespans suppressed, and with them the longevity of service in the Imperial military. His crews needed to live as long as possible, to gain the most experience, and he wasn’t going to shorten their potential by feeding them tainted mass-produced crops.

“Ok, fine, change of subject,” she said after finishing off another biscuit. “Any word from the planet yet?”

“The translators weren’t killed when they got to the surface, but other than that we haven’t heard back from them yet.”

“That was 6 sulos ago.”

“The Empire has been hunting the Novu for a long time. They’re not just going to turn around and trust us because I show up. These things take time. Sometimes a lot of it.”

“But if we’re just offering to return their people that seems like a no-brainer.”

“If the Empire made you an offer that good, wouldn’t you suspect there was something else to it?”

“Ok, fine. How much longer are you going to wait?”

“We’ve got some work to do on the moon, but once that’s done and the relief convoy arrives we’re heading back to Outpost #01 for repairs.”

“How long will that take?”

“A few dekkas at least.”

“You could let some of the crew go down to the planet just for a change of scenery.”

“It’s a desolate world with everything indoors and no recreational facilities. What is there to see?”

“Anything different than this ship,” she countered before eating again. It was a habit now with them, talking while alternating with eating, and it had become so natural she didn’t even notice she was doing it.

“There will be some crew rotations once we get there. People transferred to other ships, new ones brought in. But I’m not going to burden the Outpost with tourists that have nothing to do but get rowdy.”

“Rowdy?”

“I was there a few times when your unit went on leave. ‘Rowdy’ is being overly generous.”

Illana shrugged. “It’s a tradition.”

“Not for the Green Empire.”

“Are you really sticking with that? It seems too simple for you. I thought you’d have come up with a better name by now.”

“It works for the crew, so I decided not to fight it. I also can’t declare independence per my deal with the Emperor, so declaring that we’re a separate part of the Empire works to my advantage.”

A chime sounded and Aatroxiss stood up. Illana tried to determine where it was coming from, and by the third iteration she realized it was from his comlink.

“What kind of tone is that?” she asked as he dug it out of his jacket pocket that was laying over the edge of the sofa where he had taken it off.

“Hush,” he said, responding.

“Sorry to bother you, Admiral,” Mahansey’s voice said. “But we’ve just received a message from the Novu. They’ve agreed to take their people back.”

Aatroxiss sighed. That was one more paddock out of the original 18 that he could now shut down along with the Turook as soon as he could arrange for the necessary transport fleet. Two other races already contacted had said no, and he still had couriers out investigating the others, including several that had homeworlds that were not under Imperial occupation.

“Good to hear, Captain. Thank you for the pleasant interruption.”

Illana turned questioning eyes on him, wondering if that was a snipe at her.

“One other thing, Admiral. The Novu want to talk to you personally, on the planet, about other matters. They wouldn’t specify what.”

“Have they been informed we intend to shut down the planetary facility?”

“They have, and many of them have already moved into decommissioned areas of it.”

“On whose order?”

“No one’s, apparently. I already investigated, and it seems the Novu bored their way into the parts of the facility that we’ve evacuated, but haven’t trespassed where we’re still operating.”

“Bored how?”

“From underneath using primitive tools, I’m told. They made their own entrances and are now inhabiting part of the Outpost.”

“Well, it’s theirs anyway if they want it, as long as they don’t interfere with the pullout. Did Colonel Dakri say there was a security threat?” he asked, referencing one of the local Imperial army commanders in the system that General Hacking had brought into his personal command and would be leaving onboard the Redemption when it left the system.

“No, sir. The Novu are small and have no technology above wood and stone to work with. Even if they mass rushed the facility, it wouldn’t be hard to slaughter them. The Colonel is still guarding against that. The Empire has seen plenty of debacles when underestimating primitive races, but he says he thinks they’ll just keep their distance until we’re gone.”

“Inform the Novu I’ll be down to speak with them sometime tomorrow.”

“Very good, sir.”

“And Captain…”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“You need to occasionally sleep too.”

“I’ve heard that rumor as well.”

“Make it a fact or I’ll start requiring you to take meals with Chief Trigati and me.”

“Frankly, sir, the Chief is a little too feminine to be serving onboard a warship. Could you at least order her to get a haircut? Her presence is rather distracting to the crew.”

Aatroxiss barely managed to keep himself from laughing as he saw Illana’s face as she overheard.

“Captain,” he said, mostly forcing his voice to conform to normal tones. “If the crew can be so easily distracted, it is a sign of inferiority. Consider her presence a test and use it to identify those who are not mentally strong enough to serve in the Imperial Fleet.”

“Is that why you brought her onboard, sir? In addition to her cyber duties?”

“No, it’s just a useful coincidence. If all a coup had to do to overwhelm the Fleet is to crew their ships with attractive females, what does that say of our caliber?”

“I hadn’t considered it from that angle, but you’re correct. Forget I said anything, Admiral. You’re thinking 5 steps ahead of me as always. Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight, Captain,” he said, shutting off the comlink before bursting out laughing.

“Cut my hair!” Illana complained, jumping out of her seat and glaring at the comlink as Aatroxiss set it on a nearby countertop. “Of all the braindead, antiquated…idiotic things to say! What the drek does my hair have to do with anything?”

“I’m told some of the artwork in the pilot’s lounge has greatly exaggerated it’s length.”

Her eyes widened. “They’re drawing pictures of me?”

“You didn’t know?”

“There are no cameras in the pilot’s lounge. It’s considered the same as personal quarters.”

“That’s probably why they’re in there. You’re something of a pinup for the ship, hence the Captain’s issue with your attractiveness. And the hair, well, it’s not to Imperial Regs.”

“CYSO isn’t technically military. You said that.”

“No, it’s not.”

“So what’s the problem with my hair?”

“It looks good.”

“And…how is that a problem?”

“The crew is mostly male.”

“And?”

“There are very few females to attract their attention, so a lot of it goes to you. Especially since you can dress in ways the other female crew can’t.”

“You act like the ship would explode if I ran around the corridors naked.”

“It wouldn’t, but I bet you would get a load of applause if you did.”

“But not from you?”

“Take the attention as a compliment. If you ever stop getting it, you’re probably getting out of shape.”

“And what about the drawings?”

“You want me to make them take them down?”

“Isn’t that some violation of Regs?”

“Only if they put them on their fighters. Decorations in the pilot’s lounge are one tradition I’m letting them keep.”

“Am I wearing any clothes in these pictures?”

“Last time I checked yes, though they didn’t get your body proportions right. I’m sure they’d appreciate an hour of your time to model for them if you’re concerned about the accuracy.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “If you take the measurements for them, I’ll be happy to let them see every last inch of me.”

“You’re lucky I don’t hold you to that.”

“I’d still do it if you did.”

“You probably would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That, my dear Chief, was actually a compliment on your bravery. I have no respect for people who are mortally terrified of being seen naked. They’re sure to crack under pressure situations.”

“Now there you’re finally wrong. I’ve known quite a few mercenaries who had nerves of steel but wouldn’t be caught dead naked in public. They didn’t crack under pressure.”

“Depends what type of pressure. They were probably suckers for a pretty girl and had to be ordered to keep away from you. That’s not what I’d call mentally solid.”

“They never caved in combat. I thought that was the point?”

“My point is, it’s better to be appreciative of a naked body than scared of one. And the last thing I want is scared pilots. So the artwork stays.”

“Tell you what. I’ll pose naked and you can draw me for them. How about that?”

“Of my many skills, drawing is not one of them.”

“You could always use finger paints. I’d even volunteer to be your canvas.”

Aatroxiss put a finger on her forehead and pressed her back a bit. “Finish your food.”

“Then you’ll paint me?” she asked playfully, sitting back down at the table.

“In Imperial yellow?”

She frowned. “Why is it every erotic idea I have you have to go and spoil?”

“So that’s a no?”

“It’d be a buzz kill,” she said, frowning and grabbing another biscuit. “So is this a Keeno rule or do you just really not like me?”

“If it was a rule I never would have been born.”

“Well, not that I’m interested in becoming a mother and all, but when that time comes for you, will you choose me?”

“I’m not taking on an Apprentice, and I am definitely not getting you or anyone else pregnant. My duties are clear.”

“And what about your non-duty life?”

“There is no such thing. When you’re a Keeno, it is your life.”

“But you were exiled, so why can’t you let yourself play a little?”

“I have the same duty even if I’m not part of the Order.”

“If you’re really 154 years old, are you telling me you’ve never had any fun with a girl?”

Aatroxiss smiled at her. “When your mother is hotter than the available girls, the allure just doesn’t work like it normally should.”

“Ok, that’s a little creepy.”

“Is it?”

“Are you saying you had the hots for your mother?”

“No. I’m saying that, woman to woman, few could compare with her. And if she’s the norm…”

“Me being naked in your quarters doesn’t make you blink an eye, I get it. I guess I’ve always been looking for someone more impressive than my dad…which, by the way, is the reason I’m stuck on you. But I’m guessing your mother was more attractive than me? Do you have any pictures of her?”

Aatroxiss sat silent for a moment, then finally got up from the table and disappeared. When he came back he had a small holo disc and set it on the table in front of her.

She flicked it on, and her jaw nearly dropped. “That’s your mother?” she asked, looking at the scantily clad woman expertly dancing in some sort of performance. In fact, Illana guessed her clothing was nothing more than body paint.

Illana flipped through more moving images, most with far more clothing on her until she came to a full nude one. The woman was posing before an art gallery as several dozen people were drawing or painting her while a camera bot was hovering around the chamber and seeing her from different angles.

“Ok…” Illana said, not sure what to say.

“Every image on that was taken under cover,” Aatroxiss said, seeming unbothered but a bit nostalgic. “Nobody knew she was a Keeno, and frankly nobody would ever expect a Keeno to pose nude for an Imperial art gallery. She was able to move around in various roles, taking on different identities, to accomplish a lot of non-combat missions. She was never a sex-worker, but she taught me from a very young age that being naked was not something special and that people got really scared or obsessed with it. She took me on a training mission once, and threw out all our clothes. We spent a dekka and a half in the jungle naked. After that, the power of erotic suggestion just doesn’t get the same grip on you. Naked isn’t a hypothetical thing anymore, you get to see the reality of it. And when you do your sex drive can’t imagine it into something greater than it actually is.”

“Wait, so you’re saying your mom desensitized you by taking away your clothes, ditching hers, and doing training naked in the jungle?”

“It was awkward for several sulos, but by the end of it my skin began to feel like clothes, and from that day on being naked no longer felt…naked. It’s a skill my mother used on many occasions to her advantage.”

“And you keep holos of some of them why?”

“It helps keep me focused on what really matters when attractive young girls want to have fun with me. I just look at these images of my mother and remind myself she was way hotter than you.”

Illana gave him one of her disbelieving looks. “That is not why you keep these.”

“For security reasons,” he admitted, “there are never any personal holos taken of Keeno. The only images I have of my mother I had to collect from public records after her death, and then recollect on the way out here since I couldn’t visit any of my personal property on the way.”

“Oh,” Illana said, realizing once again that Aatroxiss’s back story was probably soaked in more sadness than she cared to imagine. “You and she never…made contact?”

“No. Our bond was never romantic. But she wasn’t afraid of me seeing her naked and made sure I was comfortable around her no matter what she was wearing. It’s a skill few people ever really learn, and we needed every advantage that we could get.”

“Against the Empire?”

“Against everyone and everything. The galaxy is a more dangerous place than you realize.”

“And getting naked in public helps you fight that how?”

“Sometimes it’s best to hide in plain sight. And when they’re staring at your naked body, they don’t really want to know who you are or where you came from. They just want to focus on the body. So my suggestion for posing for the pilots wasn’t 100% a joke.”

She blanched. “You actually think that would be a good idea?”

“For a Keeno, yes. For you, no. You’ve got a lot of other life lessons to learn before you worry about something as nuanced as that.”

Illana bit her lip. “How old was your mother in these?”

“Between 60 and 110.”

“Fren,” she said, now looking on the ‘playful’ images with a new respect. “How the hezbot does she look like that at that age? Or any age. She has to be one of the most beautiful women in the galaxy.”

“She was,” Aatroxiss said with a sigh.

“Does talking about her hurt?”

“If the Empire hadn’t killed her, she’d still be alive and looking like that today. This would be a lot easier with her here.”

“And I’m a poor substitute as a companion?”

“Very much so.”

“Well, at least you’re not into false flattery.”

“I’m grateful you’re here, Illana. It would be harder without you. But my mother and I were a team for many years past my training. To say I miss her is a grave understatement.”

“And I can never replace her, I get it. But the one thing I could give you that she couldn’t you don’t want.”

“That has nothing to do with the mission. It’s without purpose.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It is, actually. If I needed to mate with you for a mission I would. But doing it for no reason is a waste of time.”

“Even when you’re bored and have nothing else to do?”

“I always have something to do.”

“I think you’re just being stubborn.”

“There’s a subtle different between being sexy and sexual. Sexual requires your brain to partially shut down while your sex drive activates. It makes you stupid. My mother never allowed herself to do anything sexual for a mission, but being seen naked and dancing is just sexy. Can you understand the difference?”

“All look but no touch?”

“It’s more than that, but that’s a decent starting point.”

“Then how were you born?”

“I don’t know. She would never talk about it. She wasn’t ashamed of anything, but said the information would cause problems for me.”

“So that’s where you get your obsessive secret-keeping from?”

“I get a lot of things from my mother, as I would have if another Keeno had been my Master. It’s how we train.”

“And what if I wanted to become your Apprentice. Could you make me into a Keeno?”

“You don’t have the temperament for it. And even if you did, I wouldn’t. This Frontier mission is so long and complex, taking an Apprentice would divide my time that I already have too little of. Normally Keeno training an Apprentice take long stretches between missions for training alone. I wouldn’t have that option.”

“And what about before now? Why didn’t you take an Apprentice?”

“It’s easier to run and stay hidden alone. Plus, you don’t understand the process of training a Keeno. It’s not like they’re just a sidekick that picks up lessons on the go. We’re trained from birth or near birth.”

“So no adult can become a Keeno?”

“Technically it’s possible, but far harder to achieve. And it’s hard enough already.”

“Would the others punish you for taking one when you’re an exile?”

“Possibly, but we’re in the Frontier and they’d never know anyway. So, are you done eating, or do you have some more fun recommendations for me to shoot down?”

“So you’re telling me you’ve never mated before?” she asked in a serious tone.

“Twice, as part of my training.”

“With other Keenos?”

“No.”

“Sex workers?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So your imagination doesn’t hound you about it forever. That’s actually a breach in protocol, but my mother demanded it. While sex isn’t banned for Keeno, it’s discouraged.”

“Wait, so your mother hired a prostitute so you could get laid as part of your training.”

“Two, so I could compare and contrast.”

Illana laughed. “But you don’t want me for a third to compare and contrast more?”

“Those two women I never saw again. You I see all the time.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because the romance part of your brain interferes with the rest. If you get sex on your brain, you lose your edge in a lot of things. That’s why my mother trained me not to get turned on by just seeing a hot girl naked. It’s a weakness that has been exploited throughout time against many people. Keeno can’t have those weaknesses.”

“154 years and only laid twice? That’s kinda sad.”

“We all have choices to make. Those that want to have fun aren’t the ones that will save the galaxy from Imperial domination.”

“So do I turn you on at all, or was your mother just too hot in comparison?”

“It doesn’t turn off completely. Yes, I can see why the pilots want to draw pictures of you. It’s just not going to provoke a strong reaction in me. Only a mild one.”

“For the record, you’ve been provoking a strong reaction in me since we first met.”

“I know.”

“So you’re just going to forever leave me hanging?”

“Balancing your mind is your job, not mine.”

“Well then, can I practice by laying naked on your desk when you work…since we don’t have a jungle to go train in?”

Aatroxiss smiled. “Just don’t hit any of the buttons,” he said, finishing his last bite and standing up.

Illana pointed at him. “I may hold you to that one.”

“No you won’t,” he said, grabbing his jacket and taking it back into his closet.

“And why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I get visitors all the time, and you’re not willing to show your body off to them without being leveraged into it.”

Illana growled, because she knew he was right and he’d boxed her in again. “You’re no fun.”

“I’ve heard that before,” he said, pressing a call button on the wall to bring the cooks back in to clear and collect what was left of the meal.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “At this rate you’re going to spoil every other guy in the galaxy for me just like your mother did for you. That’s cruel, you know.”

“If sexuality is an illusion, do you really want to be oblivious rather than knowing the truth?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “As long as possible.”

He walked back out into view as the door opened and a pair of cooks came in, gathered up everything in a hurry, and departed moments later.

“And that,” Aatroxiss said, pulling off his shirt and pointing at her, “is why you’re not Keeno material.”

“Why are you undressing?”

“I’m getting in the shower then going to sleep…alone.”

“Ok,” she said, just watching him. He didn’t seem to mind, stripping everything off and throwing his uniform in a recycle bin set into the wall.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked.

“And you don’t feel anything right now?” Illana asked, greedily soaking him up with her eyes.

“Not really. Just the cool feeling of air on skin that’s been inside a uniform for too long.”

“I take it back. If you got to look at your mother like this all the time, I wouldn’t be interested in me either.”

“Now you’re lying.”

“Yeah I am, just trying to draw this conversation out as long as possible. Need me to hold your soap?”

“No, but like my mother I don’t care if you watch. Just don’t interpret that as a prelude to anything else later.”

“You are the most peculiar man I’ve ever met. You should be either humping me right now or throwing me out of the room, yet you’re doing neither.”

“I’m a warrior, first, foremost, and always,” he said, retreating into the refresher with Illana following a respectful distance as he turned the water on. “You can either learn from that and advance, or cling to your ignorance to try and fuel your ‘fun’ as much as possible before your subconscious mind finally wakes up and realizes it’s been duped your entire life and sex isn’t as big of a deal as you think it is.”

“Here’s to never growing up,” she said, leaning against the wall and just drinking him in as he got inside and closed the clear water door that didn’t do anything to hide him. The water droplets did a little, but not enough to drive Illana away.

But on some level she knew he was right. Stopping the Empire’s brutality was far more important than having ‘fun’ of any kind, but he was just too frenning hot for her instincts to care that much right now…

21

Aatroxiss spent the next sulo after waking up doing a variety of work onboard the Redemption, then finally boarded a shuttle and flew down to Sharcora Denova, landing on one of seven pads at the outpost in the middle of swampland that covered most of the planet. There was very little tectonic activity that resulted in mountain formation due to the weak sandstone that covered the planet. When it was thrust up suddenly or gradually, erosion would wear it back down and frequent rainstorms would wash it away, leaving a world that was mostly shallow water with chains of large islands never getting far above sea level…and those islands were always getting chewed up by the complicated tides generated from the moon and the gas giant so close by.

It was an ideal amphibian’s habitat, and the planet was covered with primitive huts and caves made out of mud, wood, and sand. The outpost was the only advanced technology on the planet, and he could see upon landing that there were Novu surrounding it on the sand bars, the bits of solid land, climbing in the trees, or floating in the water. Thousands upon thousands of them, but the landing pads were clear and his honor guard marched out ahead of him into yet another rainstorm that cascaded down the environmental shield that covered the pad like an umbrella, keeping it dry for the most part, though the humidity still got through.

The Grand Admiral walked across the pad and in through a set of large double doors that were partially open, retracted partway up into each upper corner making an inverted ‘T’-shaped opening that several yellow-armored troopers walked out through escorting a group of 19 Novu, each of which was half the size of a Vixot and walking/hopping on four legs. On those legs, however, were a pair of nimble, four-fingered hands up front and a larger webbed version on the rear. They had stubby tails and large eyes that rose above their smooth heads that blinked far more than seemed necessary.

But then again, when you lived with almost constant rain, your eyelids were used to clear water from your eyes, so the higher rate seemed appropriate.

“Hello,” Aatroxiss said, looking down at them and trying to differentiate between the group. None of them wore clothing, but they were all different versions of green and he thought he could tell who the translators were.

“Greetings,” another one said…one that he hadn’t been looking at. “We thank you for coming to our planet.”

“Thank you for agreeing to take back the Novu trapped on another planet,” he said, reminding himself to keep the vocabulary a bit more limited than normal.

“No, you do us favor by bring them back. We thank you.”

Aatroxiss nodded. “I am told there are other things you want to talk about.”

“Yes, many. Novu want to be friends.”

“Even after what the Empire has done to you?”

“We no like the Empire. We like you. You heal Novu. You rescue Novu. We want to be your friend. All Novu your friend.”

“I am giving Novu back your planet. This place will be empty and yours once we leave. Do you not want us to leave you alone?”

“We do not want to be alone. Others come to hurt us. We want to travel to stars, make ships, big buildings. We want to protect planet with technology. We will trade you for technology,” the Novu said, gesturing to another one who stepped forward and then puked onto the deck, but with almost no liquid. Instead several pebbles came out and clattered on the floor, with one of them rising up into Aatroxiss’s hand as he studied it closely.

“Where did you get this?” he said, still eyeing the black/white stone.

“From sea floor. It is valuable, yes?”

“If it is what I think it is, then I’m wondering why the Empire didn’t set up a mining operation here.”

“Empire try and fail. Water and sand too weak. Machines break. They hunt Novu after and not try to get Povverish,” he said, using his native language.

“In our basic language, it’s pronounced Matakishi Ore, and it is used to build structural components and armor plating. It is valuable to us. How much of it is there?”

“We collect stones from seafloor. They are many. We want to dig where Empire tried to dig. They no good in water. We are. We need tools to dig better, and we trade stones for tools, yes?”

Aatroxiss knelt down until he was almost sitting on his ankles and at the head height of the Novu. “Yes, we will trade with you and be friends. How long ago did the Empire try to dig for this?”

“500 eclipses ago, or more. We do not know for sure.”

Aatroxiss nodded. That would be how many laps around the gas giant the planet made, and by his quick math that was fairly recent. Maybe 15 to 20 years.

“Can you show us where they were digging?”

“You want machines back? We took them apart and used pieces.”

Aatroxiss raised an eyebrow in surprise. “No, I don’t want machines back. I want to know what they found. Will you show me?”

“Can you swim?”

“My shuttle can take us there if you can guide us.”

The Novu chittered with each other, talking so fast he could barely make out words, then the translator turned back to him.

“We will send people to place, making circle on surface so your shuttle knows where. It will take time.”

“I’m not in a hurry,” he said, standing back up. “Send them, and I’ll wait here while we talk more…”

Several ahka later Aatroxiss was flying low over the swamps toward an area of shallow ocean where hundreds of Novu were swimming in a giant loop. The shuttle hovered over it, scanning what it could through the water…and finding the remnants of something big.

He knew at a glance what it was…or rather what it had been. An Imperial tunneling excavator. They’d actually tried to use it in the sand, and underwater no less. That wasn’t what it was built for, but Aatroxiss knew as his Grand Admiral’s access gave him, that the Empire had very little equipment designed for underwater work. At best they could construct pylons like the outpost was built on to support structures above the water. But they had never invested in actually building structures in the water itself.

Private industry had, of course, but the Empire seemed to scoff at the idea of living beneath the water. They had plenty of subsurface structures, but they were always dug into land. Water, for some reason, was beneath them, and as such they had never developed mining equipment for the seafloor. Getting it out of asteroids was far easier anyway, so they had just skipped over water worlds for the most part, except here they had tried…and failed to get at the Matakishi Ore.

And that probably meant it was a Gorgo operation and not the Empire itself. But the excavator had apparently malfunctioned enough that they’d just abandoned it here rather than pulling it back out, which was an insane waste of guilder. These things were not cheap to build.

“I don’t believe it,” Operator Sheffra said, looking down at the water and glancing at the sensor screens back and forth. “I had no idea there was even one of these in the system.”

“Any idea why they would just leave it here?”

“The anti-grav probably broke,” the mining operator stationed at the moon base said, having been shuttled down to the planet while Aatroxiss waited on the Novu to get to the site. “If it did, I doubt they had the equipment to fix it while submerged. Spacesuits won’t work under water because the buoyancy is all wrong.”

“Why not lift it out?”

The bearded man shrugged, rubbing his nose as he thought. “Connecting lines would be easy enough, though it’d take four or five tugs to lift it. Maybe a suction issue?”

“How so?”

“That muck creates a seal that water can’t get into, so there’s a pocket of vacuum you have to fight to pull stuff out of. You either pull really hard and the muck moves, or you have to drill an airline down…or in this case a waterline down to fill the void so you can lift. Not something us space monkeys have to deal with, but I’m equally surprised they just left it here. Even the salvage rights on what’s left of it would be worth a fortune.”

“I’m letting the Novu keep it. They’ve been very slowly cutting out parts to help make habitats.”

“Really? They don’t look like the engineering types.”

“I had a long talk with them, and it’s quite the opposite. I think they’re natural engineers who just haven’t had anything to work with. I did a flyby of one of their villages, and its frenning impressive what they’ve built with just wood and mud. They want to trade for better building materials, and I’m curious to see how their culture adapts to it.”

“How are they cutting it up?”

“Some sort of acid.”

“Underwater?”

“Slow application, but it seems to work. Some of the underwater plants make it as a protective mechanism against whatever eats them. It doesn’t do much more than burn their mouth, but that occurs in only a few mito. Continuous contact apparently works on the hull of the excavator.”

“But still, underwater? That should just wash it all away.”

“They have an applicator. They’re quite inventive.”

“Well, if all they can do is pick up ore samples that are lying around we can reconfigure one of our lines to process them. I just don’t want to do all that work for a few nedus (1.4 tonnes) of ore.

“If Admiral Gorgo thought there was enough here to deploy an excavator, I don’t think that will be an issue.”

“Do you want me to call around and find some survey teams that can work underwater?”

“No, that would be a waste of effort. We’re just going to assume it’s there. If not, I’ll compensate you for the lost time.”

“Retooling refineries takes more than time, Grand Admiral. It takes equipment changes.”

“You’ll get what you need.”

“We already have what we need, but if we have to change it back we’ll be short on a lot of stuff.”

“As I said, I’ll compensate you if this doesn’t work. If it does…”

“We’ll be rich,” the man said with a smile that faded quickly. “Unless you’re going to claim priority rights.”

Aatroxiss smiled. The practice of claiming ‘priority rights’ was just a fancy way to say ‘stealing companies’ that worked with the Empire. They didn’t do it a lot, because most of the time private enterprise was more efficient at running them, but when something really valuable came up it usually got ‘prioritized’ right away.

“No, I’m not. But since I’m supplying the ore I’m setting the percentages. Twenty percent of the refined Makka is mine. The other 80% is yours to sell, but 10% of those sales are to be given to the workers as bonuses. And don’t reduce their salaries to compensate.”

“What are you paying the Novu with?”

“That will come out of my 20% and is not your concern. Supplying sufficiently refined Makka is. I want it ready to give to my construction crews without them having to refine it further.”

“You’re leaving me a very wide margin there, Grand Admiral.”

“And I expect to be repaid with professional conduct. No side hustles, no accounting issues, no embezzlement. There’s enough for you to get quite wealthy operating within the rules. If you cheat at any stage you’re cheating the deal I set up, and you don’t want to do that. Am I clear?”

“Clear and generous, Grand Admiral. Do you want your ore stored here or transported somewhere else?”

“Just build some new storage bins and keep it here. I’ll reimburse you for them later.”

“Consider the bins on the house. What we really need is constant Fleet presence to protect against looters, Vixot or alien.”

“You’ve been raided before?”

“Yes.”

“By aliens?”

“Twice since I’ve been here. All small affairs, but it always feels like they’re testing us to see if they can get away with something bigger. Gorgo solved that by keeping a ship here at all times, but before then we only had occasional patrol visits. Not enough ships in the Fleet, I was told.”

“We do need more ships, and that ore is going to help build them. I’ll be leaving a small flotilla behind to guard against rogue starships, and that should take care of the looters.”

“Thank you very much. Having to work unpredictable losses into the business model is not just frustrating, it often kills businesses trying to operate in the Frontier. It’s why those well established don’t come out here.”

“Why did you come out here then?”

“A mix of greed and desperation. It’s a gamble working the Frontier, and for some it pays off. The others never leave, one way or the other.”

“Once I get things stabilized in this region, Periphery Territory One will have regular transit loops connecting systems. Nobody is going to get stuck out here that wants to leave.”

“Periphery Territory One?” Sheffra asked.

“When we civilize the Frontier it needs to be called something else. As of now, this system is part of Periphery Territory One along with a handful of others, all under my direct military and civilian command.”

“So you are technically a Regional Governor?”

“I am. And if you do honest work, not just with me, but with everyone, it will be lucrative for you. Consider this a tryout for other work later on.”

“You won’t be disappointed, Admiral. We’re not so sloppy with our equipment,” he said, glancing back down at the submerged excavator. “Someone probably got executed for that.”

“My ban on executions doesn’t just apply to the military.”

“Oh, I know. I’m just saying that’s not the way it was when this happened. No wonder they kept it quiet. Are the Novu living in that?”

“I have no idea. They just told me they were taking parts,” Aatroxiss said, looking down on the destroyer-sized piece of equipment that could sit on the surface and dig tunnels via a number of snake-like flexible bores. It could do a dekka’s worth of tunneling work in under an ahka near the surface, then when it reached maximum depth could send down smaller independent drills to extend the tunnels. It was such an advanced piece of machinery that Aatroxiss wondered how one had even got into the Frontier in the first place.

The depths of Gorgo’s little empire kept getting deeper and deeper, and the further they went the more he was convinced that this had not been his doing alone…

22

It took less time for the relief convoy to get to Sharcora Denova than it had for Colony #01 due to its proximity to Outpost #01, but during the gap of time they spent waiting Aatroxiss, Illana, and General Hacking had found a number of answers to lingering questions.

This system had actually been traded to Gorgo by High Admiral Mubarak for some unspecified favor, and they’d learned of it from the civilian corporations on the moon. There were four major ones operating there, and they’d been consulted by Mubarak prior to the handover, with him citing he’d gotten a number of guarantees from Admiral Gorgo that they wouldn’t be interfered with after the exchange.

Most of the people who had been working the moon then were still here, for the system had been cut off from the rest of the Frontier and Empire almost entirely with Gorgo buying the product from the moon. A handful of corporate executives were able to come and go, but the average worker was stuck here with no ability to leave because normal transit had been blocked by Gorgo, either scared away by the destroyer or captured by it. Thus the system had become a dead-end for any ship traffic that wasn’t owned or allowed by the rogue Admiral.

When Aatroxiss had announced that a relief convoy was coming with freighters that would be returning to Outpost #01, there was a flurry of requests from workers seeking to buy passage out of here. So many, in fact, that an entire production line was going to have to be shut down as all four major mining corporations vied to keep their workers and entice others to cross over to their employ. Operator Sheffra had said the added incentive of bonuses from the deal with the Grand Admiral had allowed him to hold on to most of his workers and steal enough others to keep all his lines running. The other corporations were not so lucky.

And along with that misfortune, all the smaller companies that serviced that workforce were also having issues with people leaving and customer pools drastically reducing. It was an unintended consequence of freeing the captive work force, but the Grand Admiral assured them it was only a temporary inconvenience, and once he included this system in his Periphery Territory One recruitment slots, lots of colonists seeking a better life than what they had in the Districts would start showing up.

The Green Empire, it seemed, was considered stable by those corporate scouts that had followed the Grand Admiral out here, and word had quickly gotten back that things were changing on every planet that he touched. The same would be true for Durengal, which was the official name of the moon, but one that Gorgo had hated, so he’d ordered it scrubbed off every sign and out of every database. Apparently it came from a popular game that the rogue Admiral had despised, and had thus been referred to as the moon of Sharcora Denova since then.

Similar concerns for workers and customers were had by the station administrators on the refueling platform, most of whom were civilians. Aatroxiss only had to remove a few of them, for the rest were glad for the change of ownership. Technically the Empire owned the station, but it contracted out the workforce and operation to independent operators that were subsidiaries of larger District corporations.

Fuel prices had been kept artificially low by Gorgo, and they’d only been able to sell to him. Aside from a few tankers that would pass through and load up, the station always had a surplus of Nebulite that they couldn’t sell. The station also operated as a depot for spare parts and a marketplace for other ores and products produced on the moon so docked ships that were refueling wouldn’t have to make a separate trip to purchase such things. The refueling process was slow and hazardous, for Nebulite was far more volatile than the Tridin ore it was refined from, and during that 1 to 2 sulo layover the crews often took some shore leave on the station, meaning there were recreation facilities onboard as well.

When the relief convoy arrived other ships came with it. They followed behind at a respectful distance, but had been trailing it in the hopes that no raiders would jump them with Imperial warships so close. Aatroxiss had already assigned individual warships to each system in the preferred route between Outpost #01 and Harshoo to protect vessels passing through, but hadn’t yet done so for this system. But when word that a refueling station was coming back onto the market opened up, a lot of civilian traffic nosing around out of Itinios and waiting at the Outpost for the first available opportunity had jumped on the chance to be the first ones out here.

And with them came some instant business for the locals.

Aatroxiss had negotiated a low flat price for his Fleet to refuel here, given that they were providing the station and security for the system. The civilian price was much higher, but he’d put a price cap at 15x the military cost, though a lot of people in the Frontier would be willing to pay more, for fuel stations were few and far between out here, with pirates and raiders setting up near others to poach ships coming to and from them. A secure one within the new Grand Admiral’s protective umbrella was too good to pass up.

And stable fuel prices led to stable economies, hence the price cap. The cost being charged to the military was approximately 10% over production costs, so the brokers on the station would make a little profit on the military ships, but would make considerably more on the civilian ones…though a good chunk of that would be eaten up by the Nebulite purchases from the moon, for those who ran the station and the mining operations were not the same corporate entities.

But even factoring that in, the brokers on the refueling stations were making significant profits even if they didn’t max out the cap…which Aatroxiss forbid them from doing for at least a year. They needed to see how much demand there was before settling on prices, and the cap was truly only to be hit when there was far more demand than supply. And right now, with a lot of extra Nebulite sitting around, it was the reverse.

The IDs of the tankers who had come to collect large chunks of that reserve were actually tagged as being part of High Admiral Laro’s domain, which indicated that Gorgo had taken the fuel supply from Mubarak and was then selling some of it off to Laro, though without flight plans they could have taken it anywhere. Records indicated, though, that the ships that had escorted the tankers here had required some repairs at the local orbital docks. And those repairs had been logged.

It was battle damage from non-Imperial weapons, though little more than that could be determined. So Laro’s ships had been fighting, and Aatroxiss was supposed to be given information about all combat incidents past and present…yet he couldn’t find a match in his files.

Which meant Laro was hiding information from him, and his ships were fighting somebody out there that he didn’t want the Grand Admiral knowing about.

As for the ships belonging to Gorgo, Aatroxiss had compiled a lengthy list. The flotilla he had brought to ‘greet’ the Grand Admiral with had been 15 ships…but there were some 89 warships listed as having refueled here directly under Admiral Gorgo’s command. So far Aatroxiss had recovered or at least identified 48 of them and their whereabouts.

That meant there was still a large force out there on the run, or had been absorbed by other commands that were not sending regular reports to Outpost #01 as Aatroxiss had ordered.

And four of them were battleships. Aatroxiss only had the one seized from Gorgo himself. The other three were missing.

Aatroxiss didn’t have enough ships pulled from all over the Frontier to put up defenses in each of his new systems equal to 3 battleships, and that unnerved him slightly. He knew how to fight a war of losses, but he didn’t like waiting for one of his planets to get hit. He needed to find all those ships, but especially the battleships that weren’t supposed to exist. Meaning they were either officially listed as being under the command of one or more of the High Admirals and he’d renamed them, or Gorgo had acquired them through other means.

All of which was not good.

But when the crews of those battleships interacted with the refueling station personnel they often talked, and Aatroxiss had collected a lot of rumors about what they’d been up to…and it amounted to unauthorized assaults on alien planets. Planets that were not on the Imperial map. Gorgo…and others it seemed…were carving out a new private piece of the Empire for themselves. Meaning Colony #01 was not an isolated incident.

That also meant those ships were engaged in battle, probably damaged, and needing to be repaired. The flow of supplies coming out to the Frontier was now exclusively passing through Outpost #01 and then going to the three High Admirals’ regions. That amounted to far more shipping than the Emperor had promised him personally. And if Aatroxiss wasn’t pleased with the High Admirals he could choke their worlds off of supplies coming from the Districts. Per his order, everything came through the Outpost in order to make sure it arrived safely, and he had ships running regular escort duty out to all three capitals in the Frontier. After that it was up to the High Admirals to make sure the shipments got where they needed to be.

And when the Redemption finally left Sharcora Denova it returned alone to Outpost #01, leaving behind four intact cruisers, 3 destroyers, and 11 frigates to guard the system, plus arranging for it to be added to the corvette patrol loop to carry regular courier messages and reconnaissance reports back to the Grand Admiral.

But that force was tiny to the number of ships waiting for him at the Outpost. There were 124 warships there, most of which had been vetted by him, and a few others that had recently arrived for such vetting. But there were thousands of civilian ships in parking orbits waiting to go elsewhere or to do business with the growing Outpost. But more than that, this was a safe system, so if you had to park your ship anywhere it seemed people were doing it here. If you wanted to have a business meeting, transfer cargo from one ship to another, arrange for a romantic liaison…whatever. This was a safe space to do it in, and the traffic situation had grown dramatically since he’d originally left to go to Harshoo.

Thankfully Administrator Vortno had been keeping things orderly, and as Aatroxiss got updated reports during his flagship’s trip in from the star he saw that his faith in the man had been justified. This Outpost was the key to his entire operation out here, and if it fell apart he’d have to start all over again. That was time wasted that he couldn’t afford, and he was relieved that things had continued as he’d directed prior to leaving.

There were several large construction ships present, and the Redemption arranged an orbital parking slot where two of them were waiting for it when it arrived at the planet. Fortunately they had everything onboard to replace the damage to the ship, and once secured in place with a series of docking clamps as if they were giant tics, the construction crews began to pick away the ‘dead’ pieces of the ship prior to rebuilding them.

Thankfully no major systems had been damaged, for the construction ships couldn’t replace everything…though they claimed they could in time with the proper repair parts. That may or may not have been true, but one thing Aatroxiss was missing out here was even a small shipyard. These construction ships were the closest thing he had to one, and even the shipyards possessed by the High Admirals were small affairs capable of handling civilian craft and not authorized or rated to produce warships. Any new ships had to come out from the Districts with the blessing of the High Command…which is why they always got old ones, until now at least.

Amongst the 124 warships were two brand new destroyers fresh off the shipyards, delivered here by civilian crews and waiting for proper military ones to be assigned. The High Command had not sent them, but rather the Emperor himself as part of his deal with Aatroxiss. The Grand Admiral would be getting a few new ships regularly, while there were six other ‘new’ ones from the High Command here as well, and as Aatroxiss pulled up the IDs on the ships and crew he saw, as expected, they were both trash the High Command wanted to get rid of.

Also, they couldn’t just stop sending ships and personnel out to the Frontier now that Aatroxiss commanded it. The Emperor wouldn’t allow it. But they were continuing their tradition of treating the Frontier like a graveyard, and the four cruisers he saw were not just old, but outdated models that had been in service for more than 120 years, constantly repatched and occasionally updated. They were slow, their weapons underpowered, and the crews were those who had been kicked off of newer ships for discipline reasons. Up until now they’d at least maintained service in the Districts, but the final death knell had been issued and here they were…now under the command of the most brilliant military mind left in the galaxy.

Lucky them, though they didn’t know it yet.

“Captain,” Aatroxiss said, activating his desktop comm from his quarters. “I’m seeing four cruisers in bad need of some rehab and a pair of frigates that probably need to be scrapped for raw materials. I’ll deal with their Captains shortly, but start going through their crew rosters and see if there’s anyone worth rehabbing.”

“I’m looking at that now, Admiral. Most of them have been recent transfers and not original crew of these ships, all with discipline problems. These aren’t seasoned crews, and I’m half surprised they even made it intact all the way out here. With your permission I’d like to evac those crews immediately and empty the ships until we figure out what shape they’re in, though I agree those two frigates aren’t fit for service. The Empire supposedly retired the TR-98s 33 years ago. I have no idea where they found theses.”

“With the rest of their garbage I’d imagine. I can keep an eye on the construction crews while you handle it.”

“No need, I’ve got Commander Nogalu overseeing the rebuild. I’m happy to say he was an excellent find, Admiral. Maybe there are a few more gems in the asteroid field out here than I originally thought.”

“Well, I wouldn’t hold your breath for the new arrivals to contain any, but check anyway.”

“Yes, sir. And what about the new destroyers?”

“I know it’s traditional to have Captains commanding destroyers, but I want your two most level-headed Hexdras promoted to Commanders and assigned to those ships. I’m going to use them as escorts for the Redemption and training ships. We’re getting pretty full over here as it is.”

“Wonderful idea,” Mahansey agreed. “Though if they travel with us it will slow us down a bit.”

“Can’t be helped. I want you in regular contact with those ships as if they were two really big shuttles off the Redemption, but I want them crewed by people who have first served some time here. Anyone fresh off the Frontier or the Districts has to pass through the flagship first before going there.”

“All greens then?” the Captain asked, referring to the uniforms that had now swelled to a majority on the Redemption after their victory in Sharcora Denova.”

“If that’s enough to crew them with, then yes.”

“If they’re going to be sitting next to us for the next four dekkas they don’t need more than skeleton crews anyway.”

“True. But get an engineering team over there for a full inspection. I hope there won’t be any surprises, but I want them inspected assuming the yard inspectors were drunk.”

“Gladly. It will give our own engineers something to do rather than pester the construction crews. I don’t like being a sitting syrok like this and relying on the rest of the Fleet. Not after what happened at Colony #01. But the engineers are taking it really hard having almost every major system powered down. We’re little more than a space station right now.”

“All the more reason to get those destroyers operational and sitting beside us…” he said, his voice cutting off as he heard someone else whispering on Mahansey’s end of the comm.

“Admiral, we’re getting a lot of hails from civilian ships and military ones, but we just got one from the Raiding Glory wanting to speak with you directly. It’s under the command of an Admiral Baaron.”

“He’s not supposed to be here.”

“I didn’t think so either.”

“Put him through,” Aatroxiss said, having a short moment of time to collect his thoughts and worries before the image of a very elderly red-skinned man appeared wearing a scowl.

“So you’re the new commander they sent?” he scoffed, looking Aatroxiss over. “Rather young, aren’t you?”

“Is there a problem, Admiral? I don’t remember recalling your ship.”

“You didn’t, and High Admiral Duon didn’t send me. I’ve gone rogue, as it were, and my battleship is in need of supplies.”

Aatroxiss raised an eyebrow. “Kindly explain the meaning of ‘rogue’ before I order the Fleet to target your ship.”

A hand rose up to his shoulders and into the hologram, waving off his threat as if it was nothing.

“Nothing like that, Grand Admiral. I’m here because I follow orders, and orders out here are not being followed.”

“What kind of orders?”

“All kinds, but more specifically your Standing Orders. Duon received them, but he’s not implementing all of them and making plenty of excuses for the ones he does implement. Several senior officers have been killed in ‘accidents’ recently, and it’s not even reasonably plausible to those of us aware of them. How often does a turboblaster battery malfunction and shoot an approaching shuttle, killing everyone onboard? He’s executing people in violation of your Standing Order, but trying to be coy about it.”

Aatroxiss glared at the man. “Who was on the shuttle?”

“Captain Afha. Also since you’ve arrived, Captains Iho, Shoten, and Chadi have died, along with Admiral Ardek. Duon is cleaning house prior to your arrival, whenever that will be. And you’re giving him plenty of time to do it. Why haven’t you reigned him in yet?”

“It’s a large Frontier and I have a lot to do, but this is the first I’ve heard of any of those deaths. Duon sends me regular reports, are you saying he’s falsifying them?”

“That would be the least of his offenses. There are several harvesting operations he has going on that he’s refused to stop. My ship was overseeing one of them. I don’t want to be caught up in his treason, so I abandoned the illegal mission and came here. It’s a long trek and we weren’t fully supplied beforehand, and if I don’t get some resupply my crew is going to run out of foodstuffs to eat before we run out of fuel.”

“What harvesting operations?”

“Meat harvesting. Raiding alien planets, rounding up a few thousand natives, and shipping them out on cargo ships to processing plants. You ordered such things to be shut down, but Duon didn’t listen. I’m here to report his violation and to keep my hands clean of it.”

“But prior to my Order you were part of it?”

“It wasn’t illegal then, Grand Admiral. I stick to the letter of the law. Which is why it was impossible to remain in Duon’s command when he was ordering me to violate it.”

“Are you aware of what I’ve been doing with the Captains of other ships that have black marks on their record?”

“I’ve never violated the law, Grand Admiral, but yes, I’ve heard plenty of your ransacking the command staff. If you don’t want me to command the Raiding Glory anymore, that’s your prerogative. I was due for retirement a long time ago. But I will not end my Imperial career by violating its laws. I hope you can forgive the breach of protocol in coming here, but it was the only way to adhere to the law without getting myself executed.”

“Did these other individuals that died also defy orders?”

“Not yours, sir. They defied illegal orders from Duon, so he had them eliminated without officially ordering their executions. But it’s still a violation of your Standing Order, is it not?”

“It is.”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

Aatroxiss sighed. “Did you bring any other ships with you?”

“No, sir, just my flagship. I’d already been stripped of the others and relegated to herding cargo ships.”

“How widespread is the disobedience in Duon’s command?”

“Do you mean those disobeying him, or those disobeying your orders?”

“My orders.”

Baaron turned and pulled a dataslate across his face from off holo. “This is a list of 79 Fleet officers, ranked Captain or above, who are objecting to Duon’s actions, though they’re not all disobeying him. I’m here to speak for them as well, but most of them wouldn’t risk defying him openly. I’m too old to care, frankly.”

“Are any of those on his dreadnaughts?”

“No, sir. Those officers are loyal to him and him alone.”

“What of ICAP?”

“Frankly, Admiral, they know you’ve been removing them from the Frontier, so they’re not in any hurry to do anything about Duon.”

“What about those onboard your ship?”

“I had a chat with them, and they acknowledged that Duon is in violation of your orders and the mission given to me was in violation of those orders, so they didn’t object when I canceled it and came here.”

“What happened to the cargo ships?”

“Without this battleship they can’t do anything. I sent them back to the processing centers empty.”

“Admiral, I need to speak with your ICAP detachment for a moment.”

“I’ll transfer you…” he said without hesitation, and soon the image of a much younger orange-skinned man appeared. One that looked to be even more displeased than the Admiral.

“You wanted to speak with me, Grand Admiral?”

“Explain why ICAP is not enforcing my orders in Duon’s command region.”

The man swallowed hard, but his eyes were unblinking and his jaw set. “I can only speak for this ship, Grand Admiral. And we were given a directive to ignore your orders until they became valid.”

“Became valid?”

“You have not taken command from High Admiral Duon yet, and until you do, you cannot issue directives. This is a lie, but it is what we were instructed to do prior to your arrival at Ensaleen,” he said, referencing the planet that Duro had made his capital.

“I do not have to be physically present on every planet and starship in order to command them,” he said icily. “Do you hold the Emperor to the same standard?”

“Of course not. I did not give the instructions and I do not agree with them. But beyond this battleship I have no control of the others. They did cite the fact that you are banishing ICAP from the Frontier as proof that your authority has not reached us yet, because we are still here.”

“Excuses.”

“Yes, they are. I would apologize for them, except that I have no control over them and thus should not be held accountable for their disobedience.”

“And tell me, Commander,” Aatroxiss said, referencing the man’s rank visible in the ICAP stylization that indicated he was not part of the Fleet but part of the Intelligence division. “Since when does ICAP hide behind ‘accidents’ when you execute someone?”

“I have no specific knowledge of the incidents Admiral Baaron claimed, but I have been made aware of them. I can attest they were not accidents, but ICAP also cannot command ship’s weapons to fire.”

“No they can’t, but High Admirals also cannot break a Grand Admiral’s orders either, so it seems we have a highly dysfunctional Frontier to deal with. If there is one thing the Empire has taught you people it’s how to follow orders, but it seems out here everyone has forgotten that lesson.”

“Not everyone, Grand Admiral.”

“Who has command of the Frontier?”

“You do, sir, per the Emperor’s personal order.”

“Is the rest of Duon’s region aware of that order?”

“I believe they are.”

“So, when they defy me they are defying the Emperor, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So why has ICAP not executed these traitors?”

“You ordered us not to do so.”

“True, but if they’re claiming my authority does not exist, they cannot be claiming the Emperor’s does not exist. My Standing Orders were for the entire Frontier, not just the locations I have exerted my authority over. And by the Emperor giving me command of the entire Frontier there is no wiggle room unless they are denying the Emperor’s own authority.”

“I concur.”

“Give me a split holo with the Admiral.”

The ICAP commander nodded, and a few button presses later the hologram of the Admiral appeared beside his, though both got slightly smaller.

“ICAP’s time in the Frontier is over,” Aatroxiss said. “I will be employing methods that run counter to ICAP’s philosophy, thus I cannot have it out here. But it seems there is one more task that ICAP can do for the Emperor before you are all reassigned back to the Districts. There is a rebellion against his authority out here, and I am putting an end to it piece by piece, but the Frontier is huge and I believe High Admiral Duon is using this fact to his advantage. It will be quite some time before I can deal with him personally, but ICAP is still in place out there and can be of service to me.”

“So the Emperor has ordered,” the Commander acknowledged.

“Admiral, do you wish to go into retirement now and be sent back to the Districts, or would you like one last grand mission?”

“I take it to mean that I will also not have a place out here any more than ICAP?”

“I require my command level officers to do more than just follow the law, they also have to learn how to follow their conscience. If that is a skill you wish to learn, there could be a place for you out here. But if I read you correctly, you are old school Empire and do not wish to learn new tricks.”

“With respect, Grand Admiral. I have no intention of becoming ‘green’ like the others. Your reading of me is correct, but I will follow your orders to the letter as my Emperor has commanded me to do.”

“Admiral, I do not want you fighting battles in a destructive civil war. Especially not against the three dreadnaughts he has, no matter how old they are. What I want you and ICAP to do is collect the warships that are still loyal to the Emperor and bring them here. My order banning executions still stands, as do my other Standing Orders, but if ICAP or the commanding officers of various vessels fight back, I will let you decide who to capture and who to kill in combat. I do not want you attempting to seize vessels that are wholly in rebellion, only those that can be taken quickly, such as those with loyal ICAP officers onboard. Seize the rebellious officers and bring them here for me to deal with them. If it comes to a blaster fight onboard, taking them prisoner is a lesser objective than retaking control of the ship. Can you understand the nuance of that order, Commander?”

“It’s not an excuse to execute, but some deaths might occur if they resist too much.”

“Excellently stated. Admiral, we’ll restock your ship over the next few sulos, then I want you finding the loyal ships and assembling some of them into an armada, while sending the rest back here. Then visit the smaller systems, picking up more. Avoid the capital and avoid a large naval fight. I want the Fleet preserved for future use. I don’t like leaving systems unprotected, but it’s Duon’s responsibility to defend them. Let him do it with the treasonous ships only. Anyone who is in danger of shadow execution for obeying my Standing Orders, get them out and bring them here. I will not let him commandeer more ships to his rebellion. Do you understand?”

“I do. What of Duon himself?”

“I have a lot of Imperial scum to clean out of the Frontier and he’s now on the list. If the High Command had treated this campaign area properly we wouldn’t be having this problem. Instead they turned it into a dumping ground for bad officers. It’s my mess to clean up and it’s going to take time. Get the good ships out of his reach and get them here. I can arrange waypoints with supply ships to assist the others in the journey. The Fleet must be preserved. Duon can wait for later.”

“A grand final mission, indeed. It will be done, Grand Admiral.”

“You are hereby temporarily promoted to Fleet Admiral for the duration of the mission. Keep as many warships with you as you deem necessary to leverage others into surrendering. The rest need to be sent back here.”

“Will I be leaving with any additional ships?”

“No. You’ll have to pick them up along the way, so choose easy targets first, then stubborn ones later. I also want these traitors alive and in fairly good health, but if they choose to switch sides they will be absolved and transferred back to the Districts. That goes for Fleet officers and ICAP. This mission isn’t about vengeance or punishment, but procurement of assets for later use. If some rats get cut loose in exchange for a warship saved, I’ll gladly make that trade. The Frontier is short on warships as it is. I do not want to waste those that are already here. I just had to put down a rebellion against 10 warships, all of which were damaged or destroyed. So every one you can retrieve for me is a victory in and of itself.”

“Where was this?” Baaron asked.

“Sharcora Denova. If you scan my ship you will see the damage caused.”

“How many ships did you lose?”

“None.”

Baaron frowned. “Were the traitors all in frigates?”

“Five cruisers, five destroyers.”

“Against a light battleship? There’s no way you could have survived those odds.”

“I’m a Keeno, Admiral. Or did you forget that?”

Baaron looked at him harshly. “Actually, I had not been informed of that fact.” He nodded firmly. “I see then why the Emperor chose you to send out here, but how did you overcome those odds? Two light battleships would not have survived that fight.”

“They thought the same and paid a price for it. But I cannot be everywhere in the Frontier at once, and I cannot retrain yellows into greens very fast. I need existing yellows to carry out the Emperor’s wishes and give me actual full command of the Frontier. Since they are not, I need you to help me gain control of some of it. The planets will bend to the Fleet, so it is the warships and who controls them that are the highest priority. That is why I believe your colleagues are experiencing so many accidents. Go rescue the others before it happens to them. That’s an order, Fleet Admiral.”

“I hear and obey, sir.”

“Likewise,” the ICAP officer said, with both of them saluting.

“And Commander, to facilitate matters, I am hereby putting you in command of all remaining ICAP personnel and equipment in the Frontier. So you outrank them now as Director of ICAP for the Frontier region. I hope that helps sway the hesitant ones.”

“It should, sir. Thank you.”

“Admiral Baaron, leave your starfighter squadrons here. You shouldn’t need them for this mission, but you will need the extra room onboard your ship. As you pick up willing ships, pull a few of their senior officers onto yours so you have a pool of replacements available for when you acquire a ship without a fully compliant crew.”

“While I don’t like flying without my birds, I understand the reasons. Where shall I send the squadrons?”

“The Star Carrier Aniel has sufficient bays available. Actually, I’m not sure there’s a fully loaded Star Carrier in the Frontier.”

“Most break down regularly.”

“So I’ve learned. But the Aniel is just sitting in this system, so that’s not an issue. Does your battleship need any quick repairs before you leave?”

“No, Grand Admiral. We’re fully functional. Until recently I was in Duon’s good graces and he kept us well supplied.”

“Very well. You have your orders and resupply will begin shortly. Dismissed.”

Both men nodded, then their holograms winked out. A moment later Aatroxiss slammed his fist down on the edge of his desktop and stood up, pacing the room in frustration.

He had counted on Imperials following orders, or at least pretending to for the most part. Of course there were going to be rogues out here, but for one of the High Admirals to so blatantly defy him was not something he had anticipated. And how Duon thought he was going to get away with this was troubling. What else was going on out here that he didn’t know about? He had to know that when Aatroxiss found out he’d be removed…or was he assuming he’d be removed anyway and thus didn’t care, doing what he could before that time came.

Blast the Empire. They can’t even follow the number one rule they teach…which was blind obedience to the Emperor.

Aatroxiss ground his heels in the carpet with each turn of his pacing, thinking hard and fast. A lot of people could die soon, and he didn’t have a way to stop it. But if he swiftly removed at least a good chunk of Duon’s fleet from his command, then maybe the other two High Admirals might get the message and hold off on such blatant disobedience.

If not, he was only really going to control the planets he was seizing and reworking the command personnel on. If that was the case, this whole campaign was going to be so much harder. He had thought by letting the High Admirals keep running their areas they would be less likely to resist…so why in the frenning drek was Duon doing this?”

It was possible that Admiral Baaron was lying, and if that was the case bringing a bunch of ships here ahead of schedule would not be an issue unless worlds unprotected got hit by raiders or aliens. That was a real threat out here, but it would also give Duon time to respond if this was some sort of setup designed against him. Aatroxiss couldn’t trust anyone out here, including Admiral Baaron, but the man seemed pretty obvious to him, and coming back here was a good way to lose command of your ship. That rumor had definitely made its way around the Frontier, so he’d been taking a big chance doing so.

Still, Aatroxiss couldn’t trust anything, and he’d need to get as much data from the Raiding Glory as they had before it left the system. How could the deaths of four Captains and an Admiral go missing from standard personnel reports? Corvette couriers traveled faster than battleships did, so Baaron couldn’t have got here ahead of the news.

The Frontier was widespread rotten, more so than Aatroxiss had expected, and he was afraid the deeper he dug into it the worse it would continue to get…

23

The Raiding Glory resupplied and left the system without incident, with Aatroxiss needing to have dealt with the situation himself, but there were just too many things needing his personal attention and that would continue to be the case for some time, so he had to pick and choose his battles while using others like Admirals Corva and Baaron to take care of other things…all the while hoping they knew what they were doing.

However, halfway through the repair work to the Redemption, Baaron’s mission began to pay off as a cruiser appeared in the system, saying it was reporting in under the Grand Admiral’s orders sent through Baaron. It came from a nearby system, F-1802, that had been just outside of Gorgo’s empire. It contained two inhabited planets, Archor and Anjuin. The latter contained a native alien population that was mostly left alone, while Archor was a sizeable Imperial colony with a population of 179 million Vixot.

The Bron Tion had been stationed there as a permanent defense posting, and Aatroxiss had not previously recalled it. Captain Mannis, one of only a handful of female Captains in the entire Empire…and assigned to the Frontier because of it…had reported to him that ICAP had given her orders not to voluntarily report in as other ships were rumored to be doing, and she’d agreed given the fact that she had no direct orders to do so and wasn’t going to abandon her post. When Admiral Baaron had passed through the system he had assumed command of her ship given his Fleet Admiral status and marching orders.

ICAP had tried to stop it, and there had been a brief fight onboard, but the Fleet Admiral had been bold enough to contact the cruiser’s trooper contingent directly via back channels and ordered them to stand by to protect the Captain against ICAP should they interfere with the order.

And they had. They’d marched onto the bridge declaring the arrest of the Captain only to get into a firefight with troopers coming up behind them moments later. Those troopers had armor, ICAP’s gang of thugs did not. It had been a short fight.

The rest of the ICAP officers onboard were now being transferred to other ships in the system to await transport back to Itinios. Aatroxiss’s prison system was filling up too fast as it was, despite him constantly expanding it, and he knew he was going to need more and more prison wings as his cleaning of the Frontier continued…and these ICAP thugs were not worth wasting his time on, so the few that were injured but survived he just threw in with the others that had not stormed the bridge and was sending the whole lot back to the Districts.

The Grand Admiral had dispatched a different cruiser to head back to Archor while the Bron Tion remained at Outpost #01 with the Fleet for mandatory training drills. Aatroxiss had collected a few more Admirals since arriving here, and one of them by the name of Urthur Viloni had shown openness to making changes. He’d been implementing the training programs sent out to the entire Frontier Fleet before being recalled here. His crew’s initial gunnery rating of 3 had risen to a 6 under his initiative prior to returning, which was more than most of the Fleet could say, because hardly any of them were making a strong effort at retraining and using the material for reference sake at best.

Aatroxiss had relieved him of his small flotilla duties over the regional capital of Mazzew and kept him and his cruiser here, for he had not been given a battleship to command by High Admiral Mubarak, but a larger number of smaller ships more than equal to the firepower of a battleship to defend the system. In the Districts that was not supposed to happen unless there was a severe shortage of larger capital ships…which was exactly the case in the Frontier.

Viloni’s small improvement of his crew’s gunnery skills was enough to catch Aatroxiss’s eye, whereas Captain Mahansey’s crew had started out at level 8 when Aatroxiss had first started putting them through testing and now had a rating of 53. But neither Aatroxiss nor Mahansey could personally train every ship sitting in this system, so the Grand Admiral had reassigned Admiral Viloni to this system to oversee the basic retraining of all the warships here other than the flagship…which basically meant he had to hound them, pull inspections, and keep on their asses to make sure they were actually working on it. And in that aspect, he had considerable skills along with a well-practiced growl that could melt transparisteel.

So the Bron Tion had been dispatched to his static command as he assessed the ship and got the crew working on the drills the rest of the Fleet here was doing while the individual ships waited for new assignments. Mahansey pulled people out of that training fleet that showed promise, brought them onboard the flagship, then transferred others off to try to increase the pool of competency elsewhere.

And it was working, as Aatroxiss knew it would, but it was still painfully slow for the pressing needs the Frontier presented. But Admiral Viloni was taking a huge task off the Grand Admiral’s back, for he had no time to browbeat Captains into spending adequate time training their crews when many of them believed training was something done at the academy and finished when they hit space for the first time.

In truth, all warships were both field operations and training centers simultaneously. You constantly had new members coming onboard while others would leave for new postings, retirement, or were injured and killed. And even then, the old hands could always improve, so Aatroxiss had mandated a performance-based philosophy to ship command rather than the entry level-based nonsense most fleets, Empire and otherwise, used. Getting posted to a warship was the beginning of your training, not the end of it. And academies were used to turn complete rookies into competent cadets that were smart enough to understand how to follow your orders. Once they got a little experience and smoothed out the rough civilian edges, then they were assigned to postings where the bulk of their training would occur in the field.

Guarding a system held a lot of down time, as did travel between stars. That time was meant to be spent training, either individually or as an entire crew in ship-wide drills. Life onboard a warship was never meant to be dull enough to even tempt boredom to enter. And if it was, the Captain wasn’t doing his job.

So Admiral Viloni was essentially putting the Captains here through an improvised academy to teach them how to perpetually train their crews as he had figured out to do himself with the same information sent to all the others. Aatroxiss was helping him from time to time, but just getting this basic laziness out of the command staff was the most important thing right now, and Viloni was proving quite adept at it even without the threat of spacing someone if they didn’t perform up to standards.

Unfortunately, in the Yellow Empire, that wasn’t always a bluff.

After the Bron Tion, other smaller ships started to show up, with Admiral Baaron apparently not keeping any with him as he traveled onward. Three frigates, another cruiser, then a destroyer and a flotilla of six corvettes that had for some reason been stationed as a defense force rather than running patrols and courier missions. They were all dribbling back to Outpost #01 with Aatroxiss keeping them here to retrain or replace their crews while sending other ships back out to fill some of the gaps the new arrivals were creating. Other gaps he simply left as they were for Duon to fill or not at all.

But Aatroxiss wasn’t going to be diverting his civilian ships to planets he hadn’t personally visited and reworked. Supply lines were still running, and had to be, to keep the Frontier from collapsing, but the workers he was enticing out here, along with a lot of specialized ships, were not going to be put into jeopardy. They wouldn’t start operating a system until it was officially labeled as part of Periphery Territory One. But when that stamp of approval was put on it, the civilian traffic would rush to it and the lifeblood of a new economy would surge forth under the protection of ships Aatroxiss could more or less trust.

But while the Redemption was laid up here going through a light rebuild he couldn’t be out there unless he hopped another ship, and he was not going to do that. His flagship was actually living up to its name and setting an example for the rest of the Fleet, and a good deal of that was due to his presence on the ship. Captain Mahansey was doing well on his own, but there was no real replacement for the Grand Admiral stepping in to teach a lesson here or there when needed. And the crew had begun to view such personal instruction with pride, transferring out to other ships and bragging about it.

No, he needed to be here to keep this modest success rolling along, but he was already looking ahead to what systems he needed to wrestle under control next. Many were complying with his orders, but until he got to them and assessed the situation personally, he would not add them to the Periphery Territory roster.

But on the good news front, the ImpCom relay station was now partially operational, sitting in a very high orbit around the pair of stars far beyond any of the planets and asteroids to give it the best line of sight possible for uncorrupted transmissions. As of two sulos ago it now had a weak link back to Itinios, able to receive signals and send them, allowing Aatroxiss to stop running corvettes back and forth to carry messages.

The three pass-through systems between here and Itinios would eventually be given ImpCom relays as well, both as a redundancy should those in nearby systems fail to keep the communications chain intact, but also to allow those uninhabited systems to send out messages rather than just receive them as some larger ships could. If those ImpCom relays were up now, Aatroxiss could send messages to the ships there and vice versa, but at present he couldn’t. Just to Itinios on the far side, and weak signals at that…meaning not a lot of data could be sent through. The closer the transmitter and receiver, the more data you could send in the same amount of time.

But those three systems didn’t have ImpCom systems and wouldn’t for years to come. The link to Itinios was now up, and now the relay had to have directional transmitters added for each new link. The relay couldn’t transmit hemispherically. That would take a lot more power, as well as interfere with communications in the rest of the system. To avoid that white noise the ImpCom station was well away from the planets and had transmitting dishes that produced a narrow cone designed to blanket the target system with the transmission and nowhere else.

So if they were going to extend the link out further, they either had to build another station in the system or add to this one. Right now the next link was a transmitter to go to Outpost #03 that was barely in prefab construction mode. It would be another two years before they could get an ImpCom station up and working there, perhaps 3. But when they did they needed the link at Outpost #01 already set and able to transmit. And if ships were in close enough systems, they could still pick up some weak outgoing transmissions, so it was possible for Aatroxiss to send out some orders to systems that didn’t yet have ImpCom relays if he had a mobile transmitting dish…which he didn’t at the moment. That was another upgrade to come later. Right now he’d have to pivot the entire station, which was an option, but in doing so he’d put the existing transmitter and receiver out of alignment.

Regardless, it was very good news for the Grand Admiral and now freed up a lot of couriers to be used elsewhere, but the defense ships in the passthrough systems had to stay, and there weren’t just three systems…there were twelve. Not all ships had navigational computers that could handle the longer jumps, and with there being so many different ways to cross space hopping from one system to another, there were multiple routes from Itinios to here. In fact, the route the Redemption had traveled on its first trip had changed enroute. They had been two jumps away when they suffered that first pirate attack, then after learning that the rebellion and others were traveling on a known backwater route that Aatroxiss had previously thought brand new, he had altered their course and gone through three different jumps to get to this location, thus avoiding the next system that might also have ambushes waiting in it.

But with warships now sitting in those systems to defend both convoys and sporadic civilian traffic coming through, they could take the four jump route out of Itinios instead of the 5 or 6 jumps, but Aatroxiss didn’t want pirates or rebels nailing anyone, so he had all the systems ships might be passing through guarded. That was 12 systems in total, and at least one warship in each. It was a major waste of Fleet resources, but a necessary one. He needed a secure link from the Districts to Outpost #01, not a ‘mostly safe’ route. In time all 12 of those systems would also get ImpCom relays and Outposts, but that was decades away at the minimum.

The routes out from Outpost #01 were still quite wild, but regular convoys were scheduled that other ships could join in with for protection, so when supplies coming out of Itinios headed for Harshoo, there would be a lot of private freighters, yachts, scout ships, and gunboats going with them for the security. But anywhere beyond Periphery Territory One and there were no regular warships running convoy protection except to the three capitals. So if someone wanted to head to a system nearby Outpost #01 that wasn’t in Periphery Territory One yet, they’d have to take their chances.

And some of those ships were being lost. Either just disappearing or having wreckage found later. That’s why Aatroxiss had made a point of securing the route between Itinios and Outpost #01. Without it, a lot of entrepreneurs would not risk coming out here. But with it, he had a long list of inquiries from various corporations in the Districts begging for contracts he was offering or volunteering their services even when none was posted.

Business thrived in secure areas and withered in unsecure ones. Apparently that’s not a lesson the High Command had ever learned, because they’d left the Frontier an unsecured mess since the first colonies were established some 400 or so years ago.

And the fruit of securing this little foothold in the Frontier was just about to pay off in a big way.

A chime on his door prompted Aatroxiss to check his exterior camera where he saw the image of a strikingly beautiful woman waiting outside. She’d been waiting in line for most of the day and now her turn to speak with the Grand Admiral had finally come now that he was done with another 3 Captains in recently arrived ships. Two he had deemed salvageable, the other was going back to Itinios.

His door slid open and she walked in, with her razor-sharp eyes belying her soft curves and skintight jumpsuit that held the corporate insignia of Strycovia on each shoulder.

“Grand Admiral, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said, walking up to his desk and offering her hand, which he shook briefly before she sat down.

“I’m sure you didn’t come all the way out here for the pleasure of my company,” he said stiffly. “I also hope you’re not wasting my time. I have very little of it for business inquires, especially when the nature of your request is deemed too sensitive to reveal.”

“Our apologies, but sending word ahead would have been a security leak waiting to happen. ImpCom transmissions are lightly coded and easy to eavesdrop on.”

“Not the military ones.”

“You’d be surprised. Some slicers are paid ridiculous fees because they can crack those codes. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me anyway. I trusted our reputation was enough to get your attention.”

“It was, and you’re here now. Why?” he asked, leaning back in his padded chair.

“You intend this Outpost of yours to be the gateway to the Frontier, do you not?”

“For the foreseeable future it will be the only secure link. I won’t have Imperial convoys entering by any other route.”

She nodded. “We assumed as much. And while there are a lot of planets here, none are what you’d call ideally colonizable. You’ve put roots down on the best of the lot, but there are still many others. We’d like to strike a deal with you to establish our own corporate colony on one of them.”

“For what purpose?”

“Strategic location, flow of traffic, presence of your defense fleet…if we can also put corporate roots down here, it will be more than worth the expense of a hazardous colony construction fee. I’ve been empowered to bargain with you on the particulars.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m simply known as Representative for business purposes. For private ones I’m Kaella.”

“And you hide your last name for what reason?”

“Corporate policy. When we’re on the job we represent them, not ourselves.”

“And your corporation has close ties to the Bron Dynasty.”

“We’re headquartered on Glennis, so it’s only natural we’re on good terms with them, but we don’t take sides in political warfare, let alone rebellion. We fully support the Empire no matter who runs it.”

“Out here is different.”

“So I’ve been learning since I arrived. You have a special arrangement with the Emperor?”

“A very special one. Out here I wield his power. I can even contradict his Standing Orders. It’s something that a lot of people are having trouble comprehending. If your corporation wants to work with me, they might hold it against you.”

“We can weather that storm, as we have many others. Profit cures many things, and your opening up of the Frontier to civilized society is the biggest profit opportunity the Empire has seen in some time. I’m here to hopefully get a foot in the door before our competition does.”

“Then you’re late, unless you’re referring to other corporations of your size as competition. I already have contracts with smaller ones for various operations.”

“We’re open to working contracts, of course, but that’s not why I’m here. We want to acquire a planet for our own purposes and are willing to pay generously for it.”

“I have a rather unique set of rules any such operation would have to abide by.”

“I’ve also been reading up on your Standing Orders since I got here.”

“More than that. If you wish to establish a colony, first it will have to abide by my standards permanently. Second, I need to know how it benefits me and just not your corporation.”

“It looks like your facilities here are growing as fast as they can, but are already overwhelmed by the civilian traffic. Transit down to the Outpost is forbidden for the most part due to lack of space, am I correct?”

“It’s not a tourist resort, Representative.”

“Of course not, and we have no plans to create one on such undesirable worlds. But a layover for travelers may look very similar while serving a far different purpose.”

“My ships and this Outpost do not allow any corpse products. Can Strycovia operate with that and other irregular demands?”

“We will work within whatever boundaries you set to get a stable economic foothold in the Frontier. Do not concern yourself with our internal difficulties in the transition. We are professionals. We can handle any demands you make.”

“There will be a long list.”

“The more detailed the better so we know exactly what lines not to cross. Vagueness has bitten us in the past, unfortunately.”

Aatroxiss smiled. “I’m not averse to being precise.”

“So,” Kaela smiled back seductively. “What’s the price to play out here, Grand Admiral?”

“Ten trillion guilder entry fee, then a permanent 10% revenue cut going to me. There won’t be any taxes or fees, the 10% covers everything. I like simple accounting.”

“Revenue?”

“Yes. Profit is such a vague term. Revenue is far more precise. Is that clear cut enough for Strycovia? I have no interest in fighting accounting wars, and as it is now, I am the civilian court of appeals out here. I don’t want any corporate games. I play straight with you, you play straight with me and we’ll have a mutually beneficial relationship. I will not tolerate the corruption seen in the Districts.”

“A lot of that corruption is just corporations hitting back against other corruption threatening them. We’d much prefer to play things straight. Less legal fees that way.”

“Do you think you can be profitable enough out here to eat that 10% and still thrive?”

“If we can get established here first, we’re estimating at least a 300% profit margin, so 10% revenue is doable for professionals. Smaller operators might have problems with it.”

“Then we have a tentative deal. Give me a list of your three preferred planets or moons, and I’ll get back to you on the rules you’ll have to operate under. However, given my schedule, there may be some delay.”

“Then I won’t waste any more of your time here, Grand Admiral,” she said, smirking cutely as she stood up. “If there’s anything I can ever be of help to you with, don’t hesitate to ask. Anything at all,” she reiterated seductively.

“My people have begun to call the Frontier the Green Empire and the Districts the Yellow Empire. Your corporation can help by adopting the terminology as well.”

“Of course,” she said a little pouty as she headed for the door, which Aatroxiss assumed was a well perfected act. Proffering sex in business dealings was commonplace in the Empire’s corrupt corporate world, and he had no doubt Gorgo would have taken up that extra offer without hesitation. She was a tool to be used, not one of the leaders of Strycovia, and if Aatroxiss had to guess she was a very effective tool.

In truth it wasn’t a bad strategy, but by subtly turning her down he was sending the message that this would truly be a professional business arrangement…and in doing so there would be no special favors or exemptions in the future in exchange for special favors from her.

Still, she was far hotter than Illana and not an Imperial, and even the tiny bit of flirting was a welcome change to dealing with psychopathic Captains, murderous Planetary Governors, and all other manner of problems out here. And he hoped there would be a few more occasions for legitimate business involving Representative Kaella, for her bearing and mannerisms didn’t reek of Imperial cruelty and corruption.

Then again, maybe she just hid it well. He doubted he’d have enough time to find out the truth in the near future, and if he did he’d probably end up disappointed. Keeno were renown for making lifelong friends, not just friends of the moment, and his imagination fancied her possibly becoming one outside the bedroom.

If all of that was acting, then she was frenning good at it.

Before he could check who was next on his list for the sulo his comm pinged a message from Captain Mahansey.

“Yes?”

“Admiral, we just received a courier from High Admiral Laro. He says the planet Naugh is under alien attack and is requesting both orders and assistance. It’s not a raid. It’s a full planetary invasion.”

All the pleasant thoughts he was momentarily having about Kaella vanished in an instant and his eyes turned cold.

“Which aliens?”

“It’s the Vitri, and they’ve run over the planetary defenses with more than 120 warships. Laro is preparing a counterattack that should be occurring right now, but doesn’t expect it to be fully successful. The Vitri had ground assault ships with them, and he expects them to dig in similar to what was witnessed on Yaer. I looked it up, and it was…”

“…a war with another alien race that the Vitri won. They wiped them out to the last and absorbed their worlds. I reviewed it earlier.”

“The courier is standing by with orders to immediately report back to Laro your response. What should I tell it?”

Aatroxiss fell silent, thinking hard. It lasted long enough that Mahansey thought something was wrong.

“Admiral, are you alright?” he asked, looking at his near statue-esk holographic image.

“Captain Montose’s world,” he finally said. “The Vitri are punishing him for the deal he brokered with them and that I canceled.”

“You had no choice, Admiral. You couldn’t have kept sending them Turook to be killed and eaten.”

Aatroxiss smiled faintly at the small victory. “You wouldn’t have said that two years ago.”

Mahansey caught himself and huffed. “I supposed being around you has opened my eyes to a few things. Nevertheless, you couldn’t have done anything different. You even generously offered to return their ore shipments. This isn’t on you, Admiral. Montose never should have made that illegal deal, now he’s suffering for it.”

“Along with all the other people on Naugh, including a large number of augments if my guess is right.”

The Captain’s eyes narrowed. “You think they can hold out?”

“I have no idea. They refused to give our courier any data on the system, so I don’t know what they have. But 120 Vitri warships is a lot to counter.”

“High Admiral Laro should have enough. It’s his responsibility.”

“Yes, but the entire Frontier is mine,” Aatroxiss said, clenching a fist then slowly opening it. “Tell the repair crews they’ve got three sulos to button up whatever they’re working on, and get us topped off with everything we’ll need for an extended campaign.”

“How many ships are we taking with us?”

“None. I’m not going to have this fragile Fleet taking heavy losses just as they’re beginning to learn. I’ll use Laro’s ships when we get there.”

“It’s a 3 dekkas journey to Naugh,” Mahansey said, already having looked it up.

“Longer if we took support ships. Get moving, Captain. Recall as many skilled personnel as you can from other ships. Lose the rookies, I want this crew as solid as possible. We have to prepare the flagship to fight a war…”

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