The Admiral and the Assistant

124 - Division



Eavis watched as Taro lumbered into the bar, scanning the dimness. It was a quiet bar, not a party bar; private and secure. An ideal place to share information. Taro spotted Eavis in his booth.

He stomped over, trying to keep his wide feet and thick tail from knocking into furniture. He was one of the Umor, a reptilioid species. He was broad and thick; neither fat nor muscular, but with a presence that far outweighed his mild personality. He sported a long muzzle that had three small horns growing out of it.

Taro squeezed into the booth. Eavis smiled at him.

"Taro," he said. "It's been too long."

"Eavis," he replied. "Good to see you."

"You as well," replied the slim Terran. "How's the mayor's office treating you?"

"Same as always," Taro said. "Boring work for boring people."

Eavis smiled. "There are worse things in life than a steady existence," he said. "Look at me, I write articles about about Techterra city politics. Nobody cares, they all want to read about Imperial politics. But it pays the bills."

Taro grunted noncommittally.

"Can I order you something, Taro? The Imperial Clarion's paying, order whatever you like."

"Just a beer's fine."

Eavis nodded and flagged down a waitress.

Taro grunted thanks as the waitress brought his drink.

"So," Eavis said with mock nonchalance. "You didn't call me out here for free beer. What can your favorite journalist do for you?"

"Well," Taro started slowly. "You know how the Mayor's office gets some of the document traffic from the Sedes Imperialis?"

"Sure. Minutes of meetings and committee updates and such."

"Yeah, exactly. Well, sometimes we get documents from other distribution lists as well."

"Oh?"

"Mostly boring stuff. But yesterday I saw something-- something I think people ought to know about."

Eavis struggled to keep his mild smile in place while his heart did flip-flops. This sounded big.

Taro pulled up a document on his scanner and slid it across the table. Eavis started scanning it while Taro talked.

"We get copies of some of the legal markup, sometimes. When they're hashing out the details of a new statute. Mostly it's just mundane, tedious stuff. Arguments over wording, overlap with other laws, stuff like that."

Eavis' brow crinkled as he read. The text was dense with legalese, and some blocks of it were in Old Imperial, which he'd never been good with.

"You're gonna have to help me out here, Taro," he said. "I'm not seeing it."

"Oh." Taro craned his neck to look at the document. "Here, in the fifth paragraph."

Eavis nodded and started reading again. Soon his jaw dropped.

"Does this say what I think it's saying?" he asked quietly.

Taro nodded.

"They're planning on revoking the citizenship of all non-Terrans."

"But that-- that's nuts," Eavis said. "How would that even work? The Imperium has never been Terran-only!"

Taro shrugged. "No idea."

"How real is this?" Eavis said. "Is this just spitballing?"

"It's a markup document. That last step before it becomes an official law."

"What is the Emperor thinking? Is this from the Emperor?"

"It's the Imperial Council," Taro replied. "They're only one short step below the Emperor. He'd have to know."

"But he just eliminated the designation of SSes a few weeks ago," Eavis replied. "Why this? Why now?"

"Maybe it was to clear some kind of legal hurdle so he could get this law through."

Eavis' hands shook as he picked up the scanner. This was it. This was going to make his career.

"Can I make a copy of this?" he asked.

"Make all the copies you like. You just have to keep my name out of this, like always." Taro said. He sipped his beer. "I like my boring job."

"Oh, don't worry. Your name is still listed as anonymous sources in all my systems." Eavis scanned the document, his mouth nearly watering. "I am gonna blow the lid off this story," he said quietly to himself.

"Fleet coordination is as good as I've ever seen it," Grimthorn said. "The Ninth is tighter and cleaner than it's been in my whole career. The fleet is starting to act like a cohesive unit. We are the most powerful, unstoppable military force in the galaxy." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "So why am I filled with dread?"

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He and Kinnit were seated in Digger. Pilot Dabrini was navigating the little utility shuttle back toward the Swordheart after another round of fleet inspections.

Kinnit took his hand and laced her fingers through his.

"It's the unknown, Grimthorn. We've never faced this enemy before. But we'll stand against them, as we have every threat to the Imperium. It'll be okay."

Grimthorn opened his eyes and nodded.

"We will bring the hammer of the Imperium down on the ones who destroyed Brolla." He set his jaw. "Whatever the cost. The Imperium protects her citizens."

"We will, Grimthorn."

"I just wish I knew where they were going to strike next," he said. "I'd rather be waiting for them than chasing them."

"Cora Din's infographers have finished the algorithm," she said, "and the last of the relays should be updated here in a couple days. As soon as they show up in a populated system, we'll know."

Grimthorn gave a small half-laugh.

"There's a lot of space in space. That works against us as much as it works against the Feeders."

"How do you mean?"

Grimthorn frowned.

"The leaked reports from Brolla. They've got the fleets behaving now, keeping themselves straight and in order. But what if the Feeders don't find another populated system soon? What if it takes them months to find another one? What if it takes them years? The fleet is working well now, but people get comfortable all too quickly. They'll get used to the sword hanging over their heads and fall back into old, sloppy habits."

Kinnit snorted a giggle.

"You're probably the only person in the galaxy that's worried that the Feeders won't come soon enough," she said.

Grimthorn smiled a little.

"I suppose," he said. "I always have to have something to worry about."

She laid her head on his shoulder.

"It'll be fine," she said. "I know the fleet and I know you. Whatever happens, I promise you it'll be fine."

Chief Roeder was fuming, looking at the reports that streamed across his console.

It was late at night. Most of the station had gone home, but Roeder was working on reports and organizing shifts to try to keep a lid on Techterra.

A week ago, everything had been fine. Great, in fact. Public sentiment for the TPF had never been higher. Now the city was ready to come apart at the seams. How had it all fallen apart so quickly?

A deferential tap sounded at his door.

"Come," he said gruffly.

He looked up as the door paneled open.

"Herin! About time you got here."

"My apologies, sir. I've been delayed."

"Shut up and get over here. I've gotta figure out what's going on in this town."

Herin came and stood behind Roeder, watching his console.

"Riots and gang violence are through the roof," Roeder groused. "All my officers are working overtime to contain this lunacy. Where's all this gang unity you were talking about a couple weeks ago?"

"Well, sir, Race Ozan was assassinated last week by one of the fief gangs. There was retribution against Cryptocult for that, then Cryptocult retaliated against Zenith's Edge, then--"

"Look, I don't care about a bunch of tit-for-tat between the garbage of this city. I need to calm this down. Give me some root causes."

"There's always been gang violence, but with the overwatch of Riftborn, it blurred the traditional turf lines. Now that Riftborn's hold has loosened, all the gangs suddenly see an opportunity to do a little expansion. I think we're seeing the start of an all-out gang war across Techterra. It will probably settle quickly enough as new turf lines are drawn." Herin paused, thinking. "It's made more complicated by this news report that came out, about the new law that will kick non-Terrans out of the Imperium. That was... unexpected. Now everyone's rioting, and it's hard to separate the gang wars from the rioting. But there will definitely be no cooperation between Terran and non-Terran gangs in the city now."

Roeder frowned fiercely at his console.

"For crying out loud, man, you almost sound happy about it. We have to figure out how to calm things down." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "CenCom contacted me this afternoon. They say they'll declare martial law in the city if we can't get things calmed down by the end of the week."

"Oh?"

Roeder turned to give Herin a withering look, then turned back to his console.

"Yeah, 'oh.' The last time martial law was declared in Techterra was two generations ago. I don't need that kind of black mark on my legacy."

Herin's cold grin surfaced.

"I am certain, sir, that you are the one that can restore order in Techterra." Herin smiled coldly down at the back of Roeder's head. "You and only you."

"Great, that gives me warm fuzzies. But warm fuzzies won't-- grrrkk!" Roeder cut off as Herin's wire jerked tight around his throat.

Herin lifted the heavy police chief by the wire wrapped around his throat. The chief gagged and thrashed, but Herin held a tight grip.

"Unfortunately, sir, I need this chaos," Herin said. His voice was uneven as he held the struggling police chief tightly. He grinned. Roeder's eyes were wide with shock as he scrabbled at his throat.

"Oh, Chief, don't act so surprised," Herin said. "You know what I am. You've always known. A clear thinker would have seen this day coming at some point. It's your own fault, really."

Roeder's struggles slowed. His kicking stopped. His hands dropped loosely to his sides.

Herin laughed to himself and dropped the wire. He drew another incendiary grenade from his coat and busied himself piling slips and boxes up in the middle of the room. Roeder was old-fashioned, and his office was full of burnables. Herin shook his head, still grinning.

"So untidy," he said to himself. "A real fire hazard in here. Shouldn't keep so much information on sl--"

A blaster shot rang out in the office. Herin was knocked to the floor.

Chief Roeder slowly stood, trembling. His right hand held a blaster, trained on Herin, who lay facedown. He pulled the wire away from his throat with his left hand. He started heaving for air.

"I know, what you are, you little freak," he squeezed out between gasps. "I always, figured I'd have to, kill you someday."

Herin began convulsing. After a few seconds Roeder realized he was laughing.

"Oh, Chief," Herin said, his voice muffled, "this is delightful. You're the first person I've ever underestimated."

He rolled over. Blood flowed from a shallow wound along the side of his head.. The incendiary grenade was in his hand, with the pin pulled. It hissed as the internal fuse burned down.

"Catch."

He tossed the grenade at Roeder.

The grenade immolated in mid-air, filling the office with flames. Roeder screamed hoarsely, throwing an arm up.

Herin flipped back over and crawled over to the office door. As fire rapidly spread through the office, Herin fumbled for the door handle. The door swung open. The rush of fresh air intensified the fire.

Herin slid out of the office on his stomach, beneath the flames. He flipped onto his back and kicked the door shut on Roeder's screams.

Herin lay on his back, his foot braced against the door, in case Roeder found it. But it didn't look like Roeder was going to find anything. Herin pressed his hand against his bleeding head.

"Oh, Chief," he cackled. "That was so much better than I expected." He grinned coldly, the flames dancing in his eyes. "You always were my favorite."

He watched the scene unfold through the office windows, his eyes alight.

"Now this is chaos," he said with satisfaction.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.