The Price of Conquest

"Not a single shot fired?" Gaunis exclaimed in dismay. "Not one?!"

"Sir, there were two black ships at Dar when we arrived," Admiral Reiger said from his chair at the Council table. His pale eyes measured Gaunis from beneath wiry gray brows.

Surprisingly, the anger in his voice seemed aimed more at the Confederate opposition that had been awaiting them when they arrived at Dar, than at any accusation of cowardice hidden in Gaunis's words.

"Two black ships and the heavy cruiser Cheops," Reiger continued with a frown. "And the Cheops now has the same type of black hull as the Stingrays. They weren't alone, either. There was a fleet of smaller vessels, including four renegade Enforcers."

"And Aidan Terling was acting commander of one of the Stingrays," Admiral Estura added harshly, his Ilekian accent thicker than usual in his anger. "Terling! What the devil's going on, Gaunis?"

The High Admiral let out a slow breath and gazed at the six men gathered with him in Eminence's Council chamber. Imez Genen and Steven Isaacson—the two he had ordered to remain behind to guard Eminence when he went to Calton—sat silently in their seats. Isaacson looked troubled and anxious, but Genen was calmly taking in all that was being said and, Gaunis imagined, pondering the difference it would have made had he been with the others at Dar. But given the circumstances of the rout, Gaunis did not believe Genen's presence—or the presence of any additional men or ships—would have made any difference to the outcome.

Gaunis continued to scan the room. Admirals Deroga, Reiger, Estura and Siyeen made up the balance of today's Council.

"I will tell you what is going on, Admiral Estura." Gaunis gazed sternly at the man seated far to his right. "Richard Shaw and his accomplice, Aidan Terling, have betrayed us to the Confederacy. When I arrived at Calton, Westlex's Stingray One was waiting there to 'protect' Shaw's interest in the world. I destroyed, or at least mortally wounded, the vessel, but a second black ship arrived almost immediately. The Esprit had taken heavy damage, and I dared not remain."

"Then Calton is lost?" Deroga asked from his chair to the High Admiral's immediate right. He ran a pudgy hand through his thin, graying hair, the expression on his features mixing concern and distaste.

Gaunis nodded slowly. "For now."

"You say you destroyed one of the black ships," Estura said, "yet there were two of them at Dar."

"I destroyed Stingray One," Gaunis said. "The vessel that arrived shortly afterward claimed to be Stingray Five."

"The vessels at Dar were Two and Three," said Deroga.

Before Gaunis could reply, Admiral Isaacson's distantly troubled look faded to an expression of more immediate concern, and he spoke, "High Admiral, you said the second vessel at Calton 'claimed' to be Stingray Five. You don't believe it was?"

"I do not. The Confederacy does not have five Stingrays."

Jaise Siyeen raised an eyebrow at the assertion, glanced briefly at Isaacson, his one-time friend, and then returned his gaze to Gaunis.

"How many do you think they have?" Siyeen asked.

"Two, perhaps three." He took a deep breath, thinking how much this number game reeked of Terling's involvement, and how well Terling understood the psyches of the four admirals at Dar to announce himself acting commander of one of the black vessels. Terling's strategic abilities were well known throughout the Patrol, and well feared; few people would willingly match wits with the man. The only question remaining was how he had eluded the men Gaunis had charged with keeping track of his activities. According to their last report, Aidan Terling was enjoying his "retirement" on the planet Kirane.

"Gentlemen, I saw two Stingrays at Calton," Gaunis continued, "one dead in space, the second unharmed. Admiral Deroga and the others have reported there were two at Dar. If one of the vessels there was the one left unharmed at Calton—a distinct possibility given the abilities of the black ships' drives—then there may have been a total of three of the vessels at one time. However, I do not believe we need to fear Westlex's Stingray One any longer, which leaves a maximum of two vessels we can positively account for. Unless…" He paused to study Deroga, Reiger, Estura, and Siyeen. "Did you actually see any Stingrays at Dar?"

The four men exchanged uneasy glances.

Gaunis scowled. "As I suspected."

"But, sir, the ships are black," Reiger said. "Hell, they're beyond black! How could we see them?"

"Oh, you couldn't, not unless they wanted you to. And they—or should I say he, the captain of the remaining vessel—used that fact against you."

"He?" Reiger looked to his three companions for support, and then returned his gaze to Gaunis. "You're suggesting there was only one ship at Dar?"

"Only one Stingray," Gaunis corrected. "I'm sure the other vessels were quite real."

"But—" Reiger began angrily. His eyes flashed with the outrage he clearly felt at being so thoroughly outsmarted. He abandoned his attempted argument with a furious snarl.

"I agree there could not be more than two of the black vessels." Admiral Genen's quiet, unsolicited comment surprised Gaunis, and he glanced left to study the dark, sharp-featured little man.

Genen's gaze bypassed Gaunis to lock on Admiral Reiger. "If the Confederacy had five ships—or even three," Genen continued in his softly accented voice, "they would not have let us get away with our attack on Falira. Westlex was there. He knew there were only three dreadnoughts to defend the planet. If there were more black ships available, Westlex would have called them in. Our three vessels could not have stood against such a force. After all, look what one Stingray did to the Esprit at Calton."

"But the Esprit defeated its attacker," Reiger pointed out.

Genen nodded, thin lips pinched together. "True, but the Esprit won by using… unconventional methods."

The four who had gone to Dar turned to look at the High Admiral. Their expressions revealed varying mixtures of uncertainty and inquisitiveness.

"Unconventional means?" Siyeen gave Gaunis a suspicious look. "What does he mean, Gaunis?"

The High Admiral studied Genen for a moment. Upon his return from Calton, Gaunis had told Genen and Isaacson what he'd done to Westlex's ship, and how it had been accomplished, but he could not see what Genen gained by bringing the matter up now. Still, Gaunis planned to tell the others eventually; now seemed as good a time as any. He turned to Admiral Siyeen.

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"I modified the bombs developed for the Taasian attack and used them against Westlex's Stingray," Gaunis said. "It was only an experiment, but its outcome was better than I dared hope for. Now, together, we can use that same method to destroy the remainder of the Confederacy's black ships—however many that may be."

He stood abruptly and gazed at the men gathered with him. "We shall continue with our present plans to capture the richest of the Confederate worlds, but we will work together. In that way, if the Confederacy responds in full force to one of our attacks, we can still defeat them. And if they have only one or two Stingrays left—as I believe they must—then we will soon destroy them all, and their worlds will be free for the taking." He returned to his chair, and then went on to explain the principles upon which his engineers believed the Stingrays functioned, and how the Taasian devices used those principles against them.

"Once we all agree to use those devices," he began his conclusion, "then we need only decide whether to move now, without the use of the Esprit, or to wait until she is repaired." He held up a hand to suspend any immediate replies. "My only concern with the latter suggestion is the time it will give the Confederacy to devise a defense against us."

The rising murmur of conversation that began with Gaunis's presentation of their choices faded as the admirals paused to reflect on the warning he had delivered.

After a moment, Isaacson's voice cut sharply—almost accusingly—through the silence.

"You are proposing that we six together," he swept an arm to include Genen and the four who had so recently returned from Dar, "attack a Confederate world and allow them to call for assistance, hoping the black ships respond in force?"

The High Admiral nodded. "And you will destroy them in force."

"How long will it take to outfit our ships with the necessary equipment?" Admiral Deroga asked, clearly in agreement with the proposed plan.

"There is very little to be done," Gaunis said. "I expect it will take no more than two or three days. In the meantime, I will do all I can to expedite repairs on the Esprit." He scanned the room a final time. "If there are no more questions…? Excellent. I will order my people to begin the necessary modifications to your vessels. Meanwhile, you may attend to matters of your own. We will meet here again tomorrow, at the same time, to discuss a target and timetable. Meeting adjourned."

Five of the admirals stood to begin filing from the room. Only Steven Isaacson remained. The High Admiral looked at him quizzically, and he started to rise.

"No, wait here, Steven," Gaunis said, interested to discover if the man's hesitation had anything to do with the anxiety he'd sensed in him earlier.

As soon as the others were gone, Gaunis stood, pushed aside his chair, and leaned back against the ebony table, arms crossed loosely before him. His eyes locked curiously on Isaacson. "You wanted to talk to me?"

Isaacson's brown eyes held his for a moment. "Yes, sir."

Gaunis waited patiently. He let his arms drop to his sides, and lightly gripped the edge of the table behind him.

After a moment, Isaacson stood and moved several steps away. He halted with his back to the room, staring at the black draperies that lined the Council Chamber walls. Even from this distance, Gaunis could sense the conflict raging within the man.

Finally, Isaacson spoke. "I've received certain—information recently." He looked at Gaunis over his shoulder. "Information on several things, past and present. But—specifically for this discussion—information on the events surrounding Admiral Len's 'accident.'"

Isaacson's words rocked Gaunis. His hands tightened on the table's edge, knuckles going white with the strain. But he allowed no further outward sign of the astonishment he felt.

He met Isaacson's questioning gaze with an open, candid expression. An official explanation of Admiral Len's accident had been devised and supported by evidence from Gaunis's people on Eminence. The report indicated that Len, upset by what had occurred in Council, left the station before a thorough set of tests could be performed on his corridor drive system. As a result of the unfortunate oversight, a fatal imbalance had developed within the system, leading to the destruction of the admiral's ship. Evidently Isaacson was no longer willing to accept that explanation. But how far would he go with his accusations?

"It's a pity that such a senseless accident should take down so great a man as Braeum Len," Gaunis said, choosing his words carefully.

Isaacson turned to face him. "The sort of 'senseless accident' I should not want to suffer myself," he said stiffly.

The left side of Gaunis's mouth curled in a smile as he discerned a side of Steven Isaacson he had only hoped to one day draw out. Isaacson was willing to play the game, and that willingness could be translated into continued faith in the Patrol's ability to defeat the Confederacy, and a continued source of backing for the High Admiral's plans.

"You're a careful man, Isaacson. I do not foresee such a thing happening to you," Gaunis reassured him, and then frowned slightly. "Do you have any idea of the origin of this information?"

"I've heard only that it comes from a reliable source."

Gaunis considered that. There were people on Eminence who could have put together enough evidence to convince Isaacson that Len's demise had not been an accident, but those people were loyal to the High Admiral—at least they had been—and he could think of no reason they would betray his trust. And then he remembered what Isaacson had said at the start of their conversation, that he had received information on several things, past and present. Gaunis knew of only one source from which information of that sort could have materialized so suddenly—the Salkair records. Clearly, Shaw had wasted no time in taking advantage of the spoils of his takeover.

But how could Shaw know about what had happened to Len? There was only one answer that made sense. A Confederate ship had been at Eminence; it had witnessed and solved the mystery of what happened to Len's ship, and then it passed that information on to Shaw.

A Confederate ship at Eminence would explain several other things as well, Gaunis realized. Such as how the Confederacy had known about his trip to Calton and the planned attack on Dar. Which meant the Confederacy had broken the Patrol's prime command code, or they could track a corridor jump.

Deciding to take a chance, Gaunis gave Isaacson a long look, and then asked, "What if I told you I believe your reliable source to be Richard Shaw?"

Isaacson was silent for a long time. "Gaunis, what really happened at Calton?"

"It was as I said. Shaw took control of the world and is now working with the Confederacy."

"But your forces had complete dominion of Calton."

"No power can be absolute."

"What does Shaw hope to gain?"

"I should think that's obvious," Gaunis said. "Shaw has always depended on strife to get what he wants. Clearly, the Confederacy has offered to reward him if he can weaken us, and he is using the only method he knows. But now we are aware of his efforts and can guard against him. We will warn the others of this at Council tomorrow."

Straightening, Gaunis pushed himself away from the table and returned his chair to its place, signaling an end to the discussion.

Isaacson joined him as he started for the door. "There was one other thing I wanted to say, sir."

Gaunis turned to look at him.

"Regarding tomorrow's meeting, and the choice of a Confederate target…" He halted and met Gaunis's gaze. "I do not believe we should try to take one of the Confederacy's key worlds."

"Why not?"

"If the Confederacy sends a large force to meet us, we will need all of our strength to defeat them—even with the Taasian devices. We cannot afford the added burden of powerful planetary defenses."

"Excellent point," the High Admiral said. "Be sure to bring it up in Council tomorrow."

"I'll do that, sir."

They reached the chamber doors, and Gaunis opened them. Isaacson stepped into the hallway, and then turned to face him.

"Thank you for your time, High Admiral."

Gaunis smiled graciously. "Thank you for your concern. I'm sure everything will work out."

Isaacson turned and headed down the corridor.

Gaunis watched him out of sight, and then he sealed the Council room door and started in the opposite direction.

As he moved through the dim, silent hallway, he thought of Shaw and the Salkair records the man now controlled. What other information had Isaacson received from Shaw, and how would he interpret it? Had he learned enough to realize that his feud with Jaise Siyeen had been a carefully staged ploy? If so, how would he react?

Had any admiral besides Isaacson heard from their former comrade? Gaunis continued his silent, disturbing questions. And what of the area commanders and other officers who held nearly as much power as the admirals? Would Shaw try to reach them, too, to turn them against the High Admiral and his plans? Gaunis realized suddenly that he would have to work fast to counteract the crisis Shaw's interference could cause.

So intent was Gaunis on the dilemma of Shaw's treachery, and so confident in his security force's command of Eminence, that he failed to notice the slender, uniformed figure that stepped from a cross-corridor near the Council Chamber and fell in behind him. Not until he heard the quiet fall of booted feet on the soft floor and saw a flash of light reflected from white clothing and silver insignia did he realize he was not alone. By then, the figure had drawn up close beside him.

Startled, he wheeled to face his surprise visitor, and then backed off instinctively as he noted the woman's lithe form, pale, waist-length hair, and smooth features. He stared in shock.

Commander Andren!

Her intense violet eyes measured him across the short distance that separated them. Her full lips curled in a cunning smile.

She moved a step closer. "I know what happened to Len, High Admiral," she whispered, her voice full of some strong emotion. "Who else are you planning to deal a similar fate?"