The Price of Conquest

Kressa had planned to do several things after returning to Arecia from Terra. She wanted to see the th'Maran she rescued safely on their way back to Marasyn, spend some one-on-one time with Jonathan and with Emre, get a message off to Cody to learn how he and Janae were faring, and—probably most important as far as her duty to the Confederacy was concerned—report the details of her Terran assignment to Halav. However, the sudden departure of Stingray One for Taas and Falira had put those plans on hold.

Now that she was back, she hoped to get those things done and attend to several new things that had come up. But before she could even begin to consider how to fit so much into what little free time she had, Jonathan asked her to attend a meeting scheduled for less than five hours after Stingray One's return to Arecia. Since ensigns were rarely invited to sit in on high-level command meetings, it wasn't an offer she planned to refuse.

She started for the conference room early, partly out of habit, but mostly because of a somewhat less than subconscious desire to impress her superiors with her punctuality.

As she moved down the hallway toward the meeting room, she spotted Emre approaching from the opposite direction. At first, she hardly recognized the th'Maran; her light, bouncy step was so far removed from the trodding shuffle with which Emre usually moved that, despite the figure's obviously advanced state of pregnancy, Kressa could scarcely believe it was her friend.

As she drew nearer, the delightful changes in the th'Maran became even more evident. Her features glowed with life, a joyous smile lit her face, and happiness beamed from her quicksilver eyes.

Bewildered by the change in the woman, Kressa halted several meters before reaching the conference room door and watched her approach.

Emre glided to where Kressa stood, her elated grin changing to a welcoming smile as she gave Kressa a warm hug.

Again, Kressa felt the presence of Emre's unborn daughters in her mind. Their awareness of her was stronger this time, the command of their minds more accurate and controlled.

She returned Emre's affectionate hug, and then held her at arm's length to stare at her in delighted disbelief.

"They're doing it again," she said with a smile. "They're messing around in my head."

"They missed you," Emre said. Even her voice was different, livelier.

"I've only been gone a day. And what's gotten into you? Why all the unhappiness and sour looks?"

Emre looked confused for a moment, and then she began to laugh.

Kressa stared in astonishment. She had never heard Emre laugh. "What is it?" she asked with a grin. "What's happened?"

Emre glanced down, and Kressa realized she was holding something, keeping it carefully in her grasp as if protecting something fragile and precious. She opened her hands.

"A data card?" Kressa felt some of her elation slip away at sight of the disappointingly mundane object. She looked into Emre's eyes. "So?"

"It is from Richard."

"Rich— You mean, Admir— My father?"

Emre nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling. "It is a message from him. Captain Westlex sent my message, and now Richard has responded!"

"That's… wonderful," Kressa said, the edges of her animosity for Shaw beginning to crumble as she realized who it was that had made Emre so happy. Perhaps Emre was right about him, perhaps he really did care about her. "What did he say? If you don't mind my asking."

"He says that he misses me and wishes we could be together…" A shadow of Emre's old somberness passed over her face, dimming the light in her eyes, but then she smiled again. "He wants to see the children as soon as he can."

"Well, I think they'll have to be born first," Kressa said. "And the Confederacy will have to be on better terms with the United Galaxy. Which, I believe, is the topic of this meeting. I assume you'll be attending."

Because of Emre's knowledge of the inner workings of the Patrol, gained during the time she served aboard Shaw's Esprit, Jonathan had given her an open invitation to every command meeting held on the Arecian base.

Emre nodded, and Kressa gestured her toward the door.

The conference chamber was small and plain, with only a long, cream-colored table and seven chairs, three to either side of the table and one at the end opposite the door. Three of the seats nearest the door and the one at the far end were already taken.

Caile Mathan, the Teneian captain of Stingray Two, sat in the right-hand chair nearest the door, his fine-boned, perfectly manicured hands folded serenely on the smooth tabletop before him, brown eyes fixed on nothing. The broad shoulders within his immaculate tan and maroon uniform were swept back, his back ramrod straight, and not a single one of the wavy, golden-brown strands of his short hair was out of place. He turned his head slowly and deliberately as Emre and Kressa entered the room.

Almost too late, Kressa remembered to salute.

Mathan returned the salute, his tanned features creasing momentarily in a frown at her hesitation, and then he switched his gaze to his former contemplation of the nothingness before him.

Across from Mathan, Captain Dania Vel, leader of the Vsunan Navy, sat in a decidedly more relaxed attitude. To her left sat Ciroen, commander of the four th'Maran Enforcer warships stationed at Vsuna. He nodded pleasantly to Kressa, his silver eyes meeting hers in a brief glance, and then shifted his gaze as Emre moved toward him. He stood to greet his old friend with a gentle touch and warm smile, and then helped her settle in the chair to his left.

Captain Vel smiled up at Kressa. "I hear you're becoming quite the hero, Kressa."

"Who's telling lies about me now?"

"Are you going to deny you saved those kids on Taas?"

"Just following orders," she said nonchalantly.

"That'll be the day." The comment came from the room's fourth occupant.

Kressa glanced to the head of the table where Halav lounged, his chair tilted back against the wall behind him.

She started to return the barb, and then braced to attention and snapped out a perfect salute.

"At ease, Ensign." He waved her into the empty seat on his left. "That obedient-soldier act doesn't fool me a bit."

"It was worth a try," she said, taking the seat he indicated.

He let his chair settle to the floor and leaned close to her, his expression taking on a haze of seriousness. "Listen, Bryant, before your Navy superiors drag you off on any more assignments, I'd like to talk to you about what happened on Terra and why you brought Warren back."

"Sure," she said, "it's on my agenda." She furrowed her brow in concern. "You aren't having any trouble with him, are you?"

Halav shook his head reassuringly and settled back in his chair. "No, he's doing fine. I just want to hear your side of the story." He cocked his head. "He is an odd one, though. Keeps to himself a lot. Seems a bit overwhelmed."

"This is his first time off Terra," Kressa said.

Halav nodded. "I'm sure he'll be all right. I think he's still blaming himself for what happened on Terra. It wasn't his fault, was it?"

"No, he was just unlucky enough to be in the middle of it."

"Well, if you see him, you might mention that."

"I'll be sure to look him up. Is he still on the base?"

"Yeah, I've got him running errands, letting him get a feel of the place before he decides what he wants to do."

The door opened, and Jonathan stepped into the room. He carried a small black case in one hand. His uniform was rumpled as if he'd slept in it, and his shirt was open at the collar, but he looked surprisingly relaxed. Kressa smiled as his eyes swept over the people before him.

Jonathan had a way of entering a room and acknowledging those within it with a look that made each person feel as if he or she were the only one he was really aware of. He favored each person with just such a look, and then stepped behind Mathan and clapped a comradely hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks for taking care of things while I was gone, Caile."

Mathan turned his head to meet Jonathan's gaze. "Of course, Captain."

Jonathan seated himself in the chair between Mathan and Kressa, set the case he carried on the table before him, and scanned the room again. "I guess this is all of us. Any questions before we begin?"

"Just one personal one," Kressa said and swept her gaze over the high-ranking assemblage. "What the hell am I—er… What am I doing here? Sir."

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

He gave her a small smile. "Let's just say I value your experience."

She returned his smile and settled back in her chair, aware she would get nothing else from him for now.

"All right," he said. "If there are no more probing questions, let's get started. I assume you've all read the report about what we found at Taas and Falira."

There were nods around the table.

"It seems Admiral Gaunis is intent on turning this into a full-scale war," Captain Vel said.

"That's High Admiral Gaunis," Jonathan corrected with feigned loftiness.

"Pretentious bastard," Vel murmured under her breath.

"Unfortunately," Jonathan said, "he's a very powerful pretentious bastard, and as you pointed out, he wants war. It has fallen upon us to stop him."

"How do we stop a man who's willing to destroy any world that will not do as he demands?" Mathan asked, dropping his hands into his lap and looking at Jonathan.

"I don't think he's willing to do that, Caile," Jonathan said. "And even if he were, he couldn't afford it."

"But after what he did to the th'Maran," Vel said, "and to Taas—"

Jonathan interrupted the Vsunan with a shake of his head. "Taas was an expendable pawn, a way to make a point and try to scare us into going along with his wishes."

"But he destroyed an entire planet."

"Yes, he did," Jonathan said. "And he took back Falira. But consider the two worlds he chose. Nothing could have convinced the Taasians to go along with his demands, yet Falira was practically guaranteed to bow to his wishes at the slightest threat. Those two worlds were extremes, far removed from other Confederate members. What happened to them is not going to happen to the others."

"Then why did Gaunis do it?" Ciroen asked.

Jonathan looked at the th'Maran. "To scare us, to get our attention, to let us know he's serious. And to use as a threat against any other world he decides to attack. But he can't afford to go on doing things like that. If he continues to move against one Confederate world at a time, or even a couple at a time, he'll be spreading his forces too thin. He doesn't have the power to attack all of our worlds or to hold the ones he manages to capture.

"And he can't go on destroying worlds, because he needs them," Jonathan continued. "I'm sure one of the deciding factors behind taking Falira, besides the Faliran's yielding nature, was the fact that it provides a fair amount of staple products. The worlds of the United Galaxy have always counted on Free World goods to tide them through bad times and keep their larders filled to support the United Galaxy's illusion of prosperity. With careful management, they could easily survive without our trade items, but the citizens wouldn't like it, and Gaunis has enough trouble with public opinion now without the additional burden of inflated prices and food shortages."

"Then how could he afford to destroy Taas?" Kressa asked, well aware of the amount of trade goods the world had provided. "Didn't he need their goods as well?"

Jonathan shook his head. "No. Think about it. Most of the Taasian goods were specialty items, rare and expensive. About the only staple they provided was their plankton harvest, and that's something you can get on nearly any world, even one that's having a hard time growing enough on their farms."

Halav gave a short, derisive laugh. "I can't imagine the United Galaxy citizens crying too hard over the fact that they can't get enough green gunk for their food processors. They're used to eating real food."

"Exactly," Jonathan said. "Taas was a throw-away world, something to let us know just how ruthless Gaunis can be. Which leads to a possible problem. I'm sure the High Admiral is counting on word of his little maneuver spreading through the Confederacy, and since we humans tend to recall the bad stuff much more readily than the good, I'm afraid that all anyone will remember are the dead Taasians and the people of Falira once again struggling under the yoke of the United Galaxy. Even if they're told the reasons why Gaunis selected those worlds, they're only going to remember the cost."

"Once they've got those deaths fixed in their heads," Captain Vel said, "they're going to be clamoring for us to do something about it."

"You're not suggesting we censor the media, are you?" Halav asked, resentment in his tone.

"No," Jonathan said, switching his gaze to the general, "we can't do that. But we have to realize that our citizens will demand some kind of action, and we have to be prepared to back up any decision we make. Even if we decide to do nothing at all."

"Nothing?" Mathan asked. He gazed at his fellow Stingray captain with a doubtful expression. "We cannot sit by and do nothing. After what the Patrol has done—"

"Gaunis," Jonathan interrupted, stating the name with force. "Gaunis did it, Caile. If there is a war, it will be against Gaunis and his followers, not against the Patrol. Remember, we are presently negotiating trade agreements with four of the Patrol's admirals."

"The four who supported Shaw," Mathan said, his scornful feelings toward Richard Shaw and those who backed him evident in his voice.

Kressa sighed to herself. Caile Mathan was absolutely insufferable. He had no respect for Shaw, viewing anyone who knowingly set up a fellow officer for defeat by the enemy as unworthy of his favor—no matter what the reasons behind the action. But Jonathan insisted that Mathan's "level-headed and more traditionally Teneian" way of looking at things helped counter Jonathan's less conventional views, despite the fact that the contention of those two viewpoints often ended in scarcely controlled argument. Personally, Kressa felt it was Mathan who had the unconventional views, as well as a profoundly obscure sense of justice.

"Right," Jonathan said to Mathan, the lightness in his tone indicating his intention to ignore Mathan's contemptuous allusions about the admirals in question. "And although I do not intend to start an internal war between the two Patrol factions, support from one side could do us a lot of good."

"Men who go against the basic beliefs of their government cannot be trusted, Captain Westlex," Mathan stated firmly. "There is no way we can guarantee they would not return their allegiance to Gaunis at the slightest provocation."

"I'm not planning to trust them, Caile. We only want to trade with them, and let them and their people know we are not the terrible usurpers Gaunis is trying to make us out to be."

"Will that not put the four in danger?" Emre asked. "Gaunis will not allow the admirals to go against him without taking action."

"I don't think Gaunis can afford to try anything against them, Emre," Jonathan said. "He needs their help. As the High Admiral was kind enough to point out to me, he has access to eleven primary warships. We have only two. Without the support of those four admirals, Gaunis has only seven he can count on. While that doesn't exactly shift the advantage to our side, it does give us a slightly better chance."

"I don't like where this is going," Halav said. "Not one bit. We can't be fighting with part of the Patrol and trading with another. There's something fundamentally wrong with that."

"Like I said before, Hal, we're fighting Gaunis and those who support him, not the Patrol. And we won't actually be fighting, just defending."

"Then we're going to do nothing in response to what Gaunis did to Taas and Falira?" Vel asked.

"I'm not suggesting we make any retaliatory strikes against Gaunis's worlds, if that's what you mean," Jonathan said. "But we're not just going to let him run loose either. I suggest we find Gaunis and keep a Stingray on him at all times."

"That's asking for trouble," Mathan said.

"We don't have to let him know we're following him," Jonathan said. "We'll just keep track of him and see what his movements can tell us about his plans." He gazed around the table. "Look, I'm just giving you the facts as I see them. I'm open to suggestions, arguments, or anything else you have to say. I sure as hell don't run this Confederacy. I just don't believe we can react in the way we'd all like to, or in the way most people would have us react. At the present time, we do not have the strength to beat Gaunis in a fair fight, and I doubt he's going to be terribly fair." He paused to meet each pair of eyes individually.

Emre nodded minutely. No one said a word.

"As I see it," Jonathan went on. "Gaunis wants Confederate Worlds, and the only thing standing between him and those worlds, save for a few local defense forces, are the Stingrays. That gives him three targets: One, Confederate trade worlds like Latella and Alden where a lot of food is grown. Two, Confederate command worlds like Arecia and Vsuna—and Teneia, if he knew where it was—where people like us sit around and mull over his fate. And, three, the Stingrays themselves.

"His first target will most likely be the Stingrays. Since they can't be everywhere at once and since there's a chance he might get lucky against one or both of them, we can't allow the Confederacy to continue to be dependent on them for protection. This suggests that each of our worlds needs a fleet to defend itself, which isn't very practical, or we need more ships with the Stingrays' mobility."

"What about the fact that Gaunis blocked the hyperwave signals Taas and Falira sent when they were first attacked?" Kressa asked. "If he can do that, even a fleet of Stingrays wouldn't help because we'd never know when a world was in trouble."

Jonathan smiled at her. "Excellent point. However, Gaunis did not block the signal Stingray One sent to Arecia from Falira, which suggests he can't block any signal anytime he likes. Of course there's the possibility that he simply didn't bother to do it, but I can't believe he'd pass up an opportunity to try that trick on a Stingray. Lieutenant Satra is convinced Gaunis was able to block the signals from Taas and Falira only because he knew the precise location of the transmitters. All we have to do is make sure the location of the transmitter on each world remains top secret and make sure there are backups located somewhere else with even tighter security."

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Halav said. "What about this new dreadnought of Gaunis's? How much threat is it?"

"Right now, that's our biggest unknown," Jonathan said. "I've got people studying the readings we got from the ship. We're also investigating the possibility that the Esprit had something to do with what happened to Taas. We're convinced the planet was hit by some new kind of bomb, but it was probably damned tricky to put together. I can't imagine the Esprit, or any other vessel, is carrying a whole lot of them."

"So what's this you were saying about getting more ships with the Stingrays' mobility?" Vel asked.

Jonathan looked at the Vsunan. "Simple, we put instantaneous transfer drives on more of our big ships, like we did to your Cheops." He returned his attention to the others in the room. "The problem is, before you can fit a ship with an ITD, you need a hull like the Stingrays have."

"You mean something that absorbs electromagnetic energy?" Kressa asked.

"That and—" he shot a quick glance at Mathan's frown, "—other things. There's no need to go into details. Suffice it to say that we need Stingray hull material if we want to put ITDs on any more ships." He touched the security seal on the black case before him, and the box snicked open. He pushed back the lid, extracted a small, fist-sized chunk of dark gray rock, and set it on the tabletop close to Kressa.

Curious, she picked it up. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than a chalky, irregular lump of unspectacular ore, but closer examination revealed a dusting of tiny dark crystals. She looked closely at the crystals, and then rubbed a thumb hard against one of the projecting lumps. The rock crumbled away easily, revealing a crystal nearly the size of her thumbnail. She held it up and turned it so the overhead lights shone through the crystal.

"That's a Calton black diamond," she said, her voice full of awe despite her attempt to hide it. "The real thing." She lowered the rock to eye level, and then glanced at Jonathan. "Where'd you get it?"

"Teneia."

"Teneia?" she asked, perplexed. "But—"

"But they're only found on Calton?"

She nodded.

Jonathan plucked the rock from her grasp. "I didn't know you were an expert on gems."

"I'm not, but I did some trading in black diamonds a few years back and…" She hesitated. Had Jonathan known about the Calton run? Was that why he asked her to attend the meeting?

"I ran Anschôen wine to Calton," she continued slowly, eyeing Jonathan for any hint of what he might be up to, "then I traded it for the diamonds and sold them to brokers. The gems were popular everywhere. Then some United Galaxy scientist figured out how to synthesize them and flooded the market. And destroyed a very profitable run."

"Then you've dealt with the people who mine the diamonds?" Jonathan asked.

"Sure. But what do you need the diamonds for? They're easily synthesized."

"It's not the diamonds we're interested in," Jonathan said, setting the rock on the table before him, "it's the ore."

"The ore?" Kressa asked, surprised.

Jonathan nodded and picked at the chalky gray rock with one finger. "This is hull material."