The Price of Conquest

The settlement had been called Corrana, a mining village of about two hundred people. The fourteen children Kressa and Jaris found were the only survivors. Three similar, pitifully small groups of young refugees had been located in the ten hours Stingray One remained to search Taas, but finally Jonathan had to admit there was little chance left of finding anyone else alive on the ravaged world, and he ordered the ship out of the ruined atmosphere.

He stared at the muddy, gray-brown image of Taas on the bridge's main screen as they swept away from the planet, preparing for the transfer to Falira. Taas was dead, gone, and it was Gaunis who had done it. Jonathan knew that now.

With a sigh, he dropped his eyes from the heart-wrenching image and returned to the report glowing from a viewer on his command console. All of the Taasian survivors who were physically and emotionally well enough to talk had been interviewed about what happened. The transcripts of those interviews were in the report, along with an official synopsis of what the stories told. Jonathan scrolled through the summary again.

Nearly two days earlier, Gaunis had swept into orbit around Taas with a single dreadnought and demanded the Taasians supply him with certain goods. The Taasians had explained they were members of the Confederacy and trade agreements had been sent to the United Galaxy; any trade arrangements should be made through official Confederate channels.

Jonathan did not believe the Taasians entertained any hope of Gaunis doing as they requested, but it bought them time to prepare for the almost inevitable attack and get a message off to Arecia. Somehow, however, that message never arrived at its destination. That had Jonathan worried. If the Patrol had come up with a way to jam hyperwave transmissions…

He pushed the thought aside. He had people working on the possibility; there was no use dwelling on it or its consequences until he knew for sure what happened.

After the Taasians' refusal to relinquish the requested goods, Gaunis launched an attack, destroying one of the undersea cities and the protective dome that covered the city of Raasch, Taas' main trade center. Then Gaunis gave them a second and final chance to comply with his orders. Again the Taasians refused.

It was at this point the rescued children were sent to the shelters, and the eyewitness accounts ended, but Jonathan could imagine the remainder of the standoff.

The Taasians would have fought with everything they had to deny Gaunis his prize, perhaps even destroying the goods the admiral wanted rather than allow him to take them, all the while thinking their message had been received by Arecia, by the Stingrays, and help was on its way.

Jonathan cleared the report from his screen, then looked up and caught a final glance of Taas on the main viewer. He thought he understood Gaunis's thinking, thought he knew why he left Taas a ruined world. It was a scorched-earth policy. If Gaunis could not have the world, no one would, but the loss of life was devastating, and Jonathan had not thought anyone, even Gaunis, capable of such wanton destruction.

But what had Gaunis used to lay waste to an entire planet? Stingray One had gathered reams of information on what remained of Taas and taken thousands of readings of the planet-wide storm that filled the upper atmosphere. Hopefully, the experts would be able to use the information to explain what happened and how it might be prevented from happening again. Until then, there was still Falira to worry about, as well as the man who caused the destruction.

"Ready for transfer to the Falira system," the ITD officer reported.

Jonathan nodded. "Do it."

The transfer to Falira was incredibly easy, with none of the disturbing sensations normally associated with an ITD jump. Jonathan hoped it was an indication of things to come.

No such luck, he thought as he caught sight of the image of Falira that flickered onto the main screen. Three United Galaxy dreadnoughts hovered above the blue-and-white world, their ungainly shapes giving mute testimony to what had occurred at Falira.

He studied the scene closer, eyebrows drawn together, perplexed. Something was wrong with the perspective on the huge vessels. One of them was easily a third again as big as its companions.

"My god." He rose to his feet and took a step toward the screen as if proximity would allow him a better view. "What is that ship?"

"Transponder identifies it as the Esprit," Dakk said from his communications post. "Same frequency and code as Shaw's Esprit. The other two are the Zapahri and the Hampton, Admiral Deroga's and Admiral Genen's ships."

"Bring us in closer," Jonathan said, his eyes still locked on the immense image of the Esprit.

Beneath the newly added fixtures, he could almost discern the outline of the dreadnought as it had appeared under Shaw's command.

Was this what hit Taas? Could one of the new structures on this monster ship contain some weapon capable of such destruction?

"I've got a message coming in, sir," Dakk said. "I think they've been expecting us."

Jonathan signaled for him to put it through.

"Welcome, Stingray," a voice grated over the comm, the voice of an old man, but one with too much power, too much life. "Who do I have the pleasure of addressing? Westlex, perhaps? Or is this the other black ship?"

Jonathan did not reply immediately.

"Sensors," he said, "I want to know everything about that ship. Drive system, weapons, everything. I want to know what we're facing. Dakk, try to contact Falira."

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

He looked at the screen again. The three ships were moving to intercept Stingray One as it approached Falira. The two smaller dreadnoughts were splitting up to move to either side of the Teneian ship. The Esprit continued straight forward.

Jonathan paused a moment longer to consider the two distinctly different levels upon which this encounter was occuring. On the surface, this was the first meeting of vessels representing the Confederacy and the United Galaxy, and attention must be paid to the fact that Confederate space had been violated and a Confederate world threatened. But on a deeper, more realistic level, there was the brutal truth that they were dealing with Colliard Gaunis, the man who was rapidly transforming the United Galaxy into a dangerously tight, interdependent body of worlds under the rule of a single man. Any upcoming war would be against that single man and those who followed him.

"Dakk, have you contacted the planet?"

"Negative, sir. All normal communications are being jammed. Should I try hyperwave?"

"Not for Falira, but try to get a message off to Arecia via hyperwave, and secure an outside channel to the dreadnoughts. And send a video signal with it," he added.

Clearing his face of all expression, he returned his gaze to the screen.

"Patrol vessels," he said as soon as Dakk signaled that the comm line was open, "this is Captain Jonathan Westlex of the Confederate vessel Stingray One. You are in Confederate space without permission. Please state the reason for your presence."

There, he thought, that sounded like the sort of by-the-book pap the diplomats would want to hear.

"Captain Westlex," Gaunis replied almost immediately, his voice accompanied by an image of his craggy, white-haired features on one of the communication screens beside the main viewer, "this is High Admiral Colliard Gaunis aboard the Esprit."

High Admiral? Jonathan had to fight back a contemptuous snort at Gaunis's pronouncement of the title. Obviously he had been doing more than just building himself a new flagship.

"I was hoping we could get together and discuss your future, Captain," Gaunis continued, a predatory smile spreading across his face.

"I can't imagine what interest you have in my future," Jonathan said, consciously refraining from the use of any ranks, "or what effect you could have on it."

"You might be surprised, Westlex, how much of an effect I could have. Maybe even as much as I had on the future of Taas."

Jonathan kept his voice calm. "Then you admit you were involved in what happened at Taas?"

"Admit?" Gaunis repeated the word with a disgusted lilt, his face twisting briefly in a parody of surprised shock. "I have nothing to admit, Westlex. I made a simple request of the people of Taas. They refused." He paused for so long that Jonathan started to formulate a reply, but then Gaunis continued. "The Taasians chose their fate, Captain Westlex. Now I am giving you the opportunity to choose yours and those of your rebel accomplices. Remember, Westlex, I control eleven flagships and fleets, you have but two. I invite you to the Esprit for a discussion of terms."

Somehow, even in the face of Gaunis's ludicrous suggestion, Jonathan remained calm. "The only thing I wish to discuss with you, Gaunis, is your unlawful presence in the Faliran system. We can do that quite adequately from our present positions."

Gaunis's expression relaxed, and he almost smiled. "Our presence within this system is sanctioned by the government of Falira," he said matter-of-factly. "You see, Westlex, they too have chosen their fate, but they chose wisely. See that you do the same."

The three Patrol vessels had moved into positions surrounding Stingray One. Jonathan muted the comm and turned his back to the screen.

"Sensors, I want you and the ITD station working together to keep an eye on those ships. If any of their weapon systems even hint about coming into play, I want us out of here, to Arecia. But be ready to bounce us back in case the High Admiral and I haven't finished our discussion."

He turned to the screen again and pressed the transmit switch. "Admiral, I require proof of your words. If the Falirans have decided to allow your ships within their system, that is their prerogative. But until I am certain you are here by permission, I must stand by the promises I made to the Faliran people to protect them. If you would clear local communications, I will put a call through to the Faliran government to assure myself of the truth of your words."

"Of course, Captain." Gaunis's voice bordered on jovial as he settled back in his seat with a contented smile. "Of course." The admiral motioned to someone out of range of the video pickup, and then he spoke again, "A line to the Faliran governor has been cleared. You may call him any time. I'll be awaiting your response. Esprit out." The comm screen went black.

Jonathan ordered Dakk to arrange communication with the governor, and then took a seat in his command chair, well aware of how the Faliran governor would answer his questions.

"I've got him, Captain," Dakk reported a moment later. "His name's Millan Salke."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Put him on a private channel here at my station."

Jonathan had never met Governor Salke, but knew he was the man behind the Falirans' courageous decision to break from their Patrol masters and join the Confederacy. A forced return to what could now only be harsh domination by Gaunis's people would be devastating to the governor; there was no reason to display his defeat to the entire bridge crew.

Jonathan's comm screen lit up, showing the thin features of a middle-aged man, dark hair disheveled and salted with gray, his lifeless eyes and mottled cheeks sunken to form a gaunt mask of resigned bitterness. He looked beaten, rundown.

Jonathan ground his teeth. He had seen holos of the Faliran governor; this was a pale mockery of that man.

"Governor Salke," he said, "this is Captain Westlex aboard Stingray One."

"Greetings, Captain." The response, like the eyes, was spiritless.

"The Confederacy lost contact with Falira, Governor. We feared something might have happened. We—"

"Yes, Captain," Salke interrupted tonelessly. "We understand… about what happened, about Taas…" He closed his eyes and a shudder passed over him. "You want to know if we allowed the Patrol ships within our system?" He looked up and his brown eyes lit with a brief defiance. "I must tell you that, yes, they are here with our permission. We have decided to return our allegiance to the United Galaxy." He lowered his eyes. "It is for the best… for everyone."

Jonathan gave a curt nod. "I understand, Governor," he said. "We will abide by your wishes."

"Satisfied, Westlex?" Gaunis's voice and visage returned to the main comm screen even before Salke's image faded completely from Jonathan's board.

"Satisfied?" he asked, mocking the jaded lilt Gaunis had affected earlier. "I would hardly call it that. But I will continue to play along with this charade, Gaunis, if only because I do not want to see another Taas."

"Ah, but you will see another Taas," Gaunis said. "And another and another and another, until you decide to abandon your own charade, or until we have won back or destroyed every world in your precious Confederacy."

Jonathan did not reply. He held the admiral's gray eyes, eyes too bright to be those of a man with more than ninety years behind him, but Jonathan knew of the rumors that Gaunis had a source for drugs that helped slow the aging process.

Yet hasn't he lived long enough? Jonathan thought bitterly, still holding Gaunis's gaze. Hasn't he caused enough damage? Hurt enough people? Destroyed enough lives?

Gaunis glanced away briefly, as if reading Jonathan's thoughts in his expression.

"Captain Westlex, I believe it is now your ship invading United Galaxy space," Gaunis said. "And I believe it is you who must explain your presence or—"

Jonathan snapped a hand up, gesturing to the ITD officer. "Do it," he whispered.

The Stingray blinked out of existence, leaving the three Patrol vessels alone, surrounding a patch of empty space.