Give my death Glory
Fortress - Karin City - Karin - Imperial Territory
~~*~~
The councillors that acted as the provisional government of the Empire after the occupation, filed from the room seemingly satisfied with the information that they had finally gleaned from their emperor.
Edward sighed dramatically as he sank deeper into the chair he'd been stuck in for hours, listening to pointless debates about matters a provisional government had no control over. It was downright painfully dull.
He looked down at the notebook tucked on his knee, a rather sickly looking woolock drawn upon it, staring up at him as if begging him for some kind of relief from the boredom they both shared.
"Thank you," Walker said as the fusiliers closed the council chamber doors leaving the two of them alone for the first time all morning.
"Why is it," Edward asked looking up, "that nobody wants to understand the simple things?"
Walker moved to sit down at the table, pouring himself a glass of water. "I don't know if I understand your highness."
Edward leaned forward, sighing through his teeth. "Like I tell them the Gorean have agreed to the terms of the truce, but they don't seem to want to believe it. They want to know what their motives are, their reasons for accepting it…"
Walker nodded, "they need to understand."
Edward scraped a hand down his face as he sat up again. "No, they want details, but only the details that will serve to justify their own fears. I mean if I say 'because Sal-zÿr is blue,' they'd just ask me some pointless question like 'what does he stand to gain economically?' and I will have to break down the economic situation in the Gorean Imperium… as if it actually matters. All that really matters is that the Gorean have agreed to the truce, and we have a hundred year lease on the Apilon Rift. That's it, that is all…"
"Politics is about more than plain truths," Walker explained. "take a man, if you say he was a nice man, they'd want to know why you think this. If you said 'he has a soft voice, or a sweet disposition' they'd think you were a child. But if you said 'because he treats me well.' They'd accept it. It is a matter of what they consider relevant."
Edward stretched, yawning as he stood, "I'm not going to humour them be being the giant magic eight ball they can just turn upside down at will and demand answers…" he pitched his voice down mimicking one of the councillors, "'should we plant the crops early this year?'" Edward jumped up and down a few times, and waggled, "sure, what the hell, and plant carrots this time…"
"Carrots, your highness?" Walker inquired raising an eyebrow.
"Orange, I like the colour," Edward shrugged. "I don't have all the answers…"
"You are a god," Walker reminded. "To them, you have all the answers, and they have the chance to glean real understanding about the universe…"
"The macro-economic situation of the Gorean Imperium is hardly one of the greater truths of the universe," Edward replied a little grumpily. "Now processed cheese, that is one mystery no one seems capable of solving…"
Walker smiled. "There is other business… Colonel Mayfair for example."
Edward smiled as he turned back, "what's up?"
"He's been recruiting heavily for his Dragoon unit, as per your orders. He should have them ready in a couple of weeks, but there is still the matter…" Walker prompted.
Edward scratched at his temple, batting the blonde hair out of his eyes, "promote him, Karin needs a home grown hero. And it will give Mayfair the authority he needs to prepare the Dragoons to rescue Darien."
"As you wish your highness," Walker said as he stood.
"I have to leave," Edward said suddenly, causing Walker to turn.
"Your Highness?" Walker asked.
"I can't just sit here," Edward replied, looking uncomfortable as he played with the zipper of his heavy hooded sweater. "There are things I need to be doing, and the longer I wait here, the more things go wrong out there…" he jerked his thumb up at the windows.
Walker looked at him, his portfolio tucked under his arm. Worn clothing that had become the norm on post Occupation Karin, where everything had the same edge of scruffy recovery from buildings, to clothes, to the people. It was the kind of wear that no amount of paint would cover over, the Empire was crumbling out from under them.
"We need you," Walker said quietly. "Without Taine, and Riley trapped… and the Matriarch's death… you are all we have to hold hope."
Edward sank his small hands into his grubby jeans, biting his lip as he looked at the aging Archduke. "I know, that is why we have to find Darien… but Karin has its hope. And the Empire has another," Edward looked upwards. "You have to find a way to convince the Gorean to join us in fighting the Amsus."
"Me?" Walker inquired.
"Well," Edward shrugged, "diplomacy and politics are your thing, miracles are mine." He grinned a little lopsidedly, "and you never know, you might find that some allies in the most unlikely of people."
Hope of the Dawn - Karin System - Imperial Territory
~~*~~
Masconi wasn't sure how Master Flint had accomplished it; the Taïrian flagship had come through the Haligonian Jump Nexus under a flag of truce. Passing both the Amsus and Gorean warfleets arrayed on both sides of the Nexus to reach Karin quickly.
She presumed it had something to do with ancient Taïrian rituals and rites of death that predated the Hegemony. That, or Flint was a master of diplomacy. Either way, it didn't matter. The sight of an Imperial Warship in orbit around Karin, amidst the Gorean Armada was reassuring.
The trio of Imperial Dropships rose out of the planet's atmosphere, an honour guard of her Ice Foxes flying about the ships as they conveyed the body of the Taïrian Matriarch back to her people who would carry it home reverently to the hall of the dead that waited for her.
Aboard the lead drop ship, Masconi could read the anticipation on Captain Shale's features. The warrior was returning to his ship, and to his people. Ready to take up his sword again, and battle the Amsus for the liberation of his people.
Masconi could appreciate that, Shale had been through a lot on Karin, sharing the ordeal on Karin with Alessandro. He'd served on the Excalibur through Yeji-sola and the woes of the Lex Talionis…
The Hope's flight deck was cleared for their arrival, and as the Imperial drop ships were stowed into hangers that had once held deadly Amsus Predators, Masconi began to feel at ease.
She'd elected to reassign her Ice Foxes to the Hope, expecting to reinforce the small Taïrian taskforce that had partnered with the Tempus 242nd fleet to hold the Taïrian border from Amsus reprisal attacks that had been growing in ferocity since the disappearance of the main Imperial fleet.
Shale stepped down beside her, once again in his Imperial uniform. His cap pulled down near to his eyes, the gold leaves glittering. The first and only Taïrian to earn the honour of Captaining an Imperial ship of the line, he was home.
Officers greeted him with their customary salutes and ritualized greetings, as his first officer returned command of the cruiser to its rightful commanding officer. Shale standing silent as ever, a grim look on his face as he did so, seeming to feel what Masconi felt. In the days after the Gorean Occupation, there was a trepidation brought about by the fact that they were alone, now. The sole people charged with the monumental task of liberating Earth.
Masconi set about the task of organizing her wing of fighters. Issuing orders to her pilots as their F-175 and F-150 fighters were stowed away in bays, and on launching racks. Missiles and 55mm rail cannon ammunition was unloaded from the dropships, quickly being managed by the red-shirted ordinance crews that whisked it away to secure magazines.
Ahead of them, a Taïrian honour guard escorted the coffin of their beloved Matriarch off of one of the dropships. Each of the Taïrians moving forward to lay a paw upon the polished ebony caskets, dropping their work to follow the coffin as it was led away.
Masconi heaved a heavy sigh as she watched it reluctantly. It signalled the end of an era of Taïrian government, now would come the rite of succession where the next leader of the Taïrian people would be chosen by the ancestor spirits in the hall of the dead, and that leader would decide the future of his people.
She looked across the bay, towards Master Flint who had come down to meet the casket. A deep black mussel, with tufting grey whiskers that shot out like barbs from it. A natural age to his rich fur, silvered and silken, his only blemish was a wicked scar given to him by an Amsus Inquisitor during the early days of the war.
Swathed now in the grey robes, the Taïrian Master walked after his Matriarch, his eyes cold, distant and hard. The legendary diplomat, a Taïrian peacemaker and trader… Masconi had heard so many tales of him, and wondered if he had what it took to fill the Archduchesses great shoes.
Palace - Karin city - Karin System - Imperial Territory
~~*~~
People seem to think that Alessandro was just your average, every day teenager… those people are wrong. In fact they were far from correct. Ever since Alessandro was a young child he has had nothing to live for except for his strong religious beliefs. His father had been killed a few weeks after his birth and his mother was always gone. Ever since his brother's death, his religious role-model, he has dreamed of joining the most illustrious of orders, dreamt of a godly life. Today was his day and on this day he was going to become a Templar.
The room was dimly lit by slowly burning candles and the general mood was glum. Statues of old priests and leaders loomed over Alessandro as he frantically studied for his induction ceremony. The musty aroma of the room filled his nostrils as he breathed heavily, and dust littered the air from the sheer force of his breaths. His eyes moved back and forth as they tried to absorb as much information as humanly possible. Over the span of his seventeen year life he had read nearly every book in this library, but for some reason he still felt the need to learn more - there was an abundance of records on Karin that had survived the fall, kept safe in Walker von Karin's sanctuary.
Sighing heavily, Alessandro turned back toward the windowpane and placed one bare hand against the glass. The cold air from outside made the glass cold as the ice that sheathed the gardens and walkways of Karin City below, but for just a moment he was unconscious to the cold and to everything else, so deeply lost in thought was he. He shuddered slightly as his mind went over yet again the stresses that plagued him that night, when he should be able to enjoy the dark sky and glittering stars. But he saw only the storm that raged within, keeping him from thinking of much else. Though he knew quite well what he was destined for, life was still more than a bit stressful with the events of the Gorean occupation still fresh in all of their minds.
The small puffs of condensation his warm breath made against the glass were suddenly fascinating, and he focused on drawing small circles in it with his fingertip until he heard the door behind him open and then close, and he turned reluctantly away from his momentary distraction.
Edward stood in the large, rough wooden doorway, looking across at Alessandro in the simple grey wool priest's garb. Edward presumed it was some small concession on Alessandro's part as tribute to his god.
"What are you doing?" Edward inquired from the rear of the chapel where he stood, watching.
Alessandro opened his eye and tilted his head around slightly, "I am attempting, day-by-day to break my will into pieces. To do your will, not my own."
Edward walked forward into the light, his hands fidgeting a little as he cocked a curious head to one side. "If you want to do my will, shouldn't you just ask? Everyone else around here seems keen on going direct to the source…"
"Faith's source," Alessandro replied, sinking down to the flagstones so that he sat cross-legged facing up at his young god, "should come from within, sì?"
"I wish everyone else had the same way of looking at it," Edward said sitting down opposite Alessandro, tucking his knees up under his chin. "But I guess that's why I like Kardiac's with the whole faith issue. You don't look at me to explain everything, it just seems to make sense to you guys."
Alessandro laughed a little, shaking his head, "no, no, it doesn't. But I think it is part of it, to just enjoy the…" he struggled for the right English word, "bliss? Bliss of faith, trust that you… Deus, are here for more important things to do than to answer stupid questions, like what I have for dinner tomorrow."
Edward smiled a little as he bobbed his head, "why do you believe in me?" asking a stupid question of his own.
Alessandro smiled, "you believe in me, when all is dark in my world. I would be very selfish to forget that now that all is light."
"And if I told you I'm not a god?" Edward queried.
"Faith doesn't need a physical manifestation," Alessandro replied. "You may be angel for all I know, or like they say, just an artificial construct using alien powers… but I don't think that really matters at all. Not now, not before and not after. You're here, gods will, like the Immortal Emperor was before… I think you need some of my faith. Eh che?"
"Then if I was to test that faith?" Edward asked, looking sombre. "You desire entry into the Templar Order, right?"
"If that is your will," Alessandro replied.
"There is only one path open now, after the death of the last Templar master at Yeji-Sola…" Edward's head sank to his knees again, his sapphire eyes sparkling in the candlelight. "And it won't be an easy path to tread… there is yet one echo of the past that has bided his time, waiting… his words are venom, and his faith is corroded, but he has the knowledge of the Templar path, and of the Ophanim that came before them…"
Alessandro licked his lips nervously, "Lex Talionis?" he asked.
Edward shook his head, "my grandfather had dealings with him. Well, what was left of him after he was tried and found guilty by the Bishop's council for the murder of Bishop Sinosec. If you want what you want, then you are going to have to travel to Keppe, and find the Morning Star."
Alessandro looked wary as he sat across from Edward, silent a moment as in contemplation. "Fëdor was a murderer," he stated, "he was written about in the Templar's Edict. He was the teacher of Kardiac, and a loyal servant of Strathcona, the first Highlord Kardiac."
"You aren't going to like what he's going to teach," Edward warned.
"But you need this, sì?" Alessandro surmised.
"Yep," Edward said with a light shrug of his shoulders. "If you are ready, then I can take you."
"I don't know if ready is the word I need," Alessandro said, shrugging, "but we go now, no problem."
"Good," Edward said smiling, he paused looking towards the shadows. "You can help me as well, if you like…"
James stepped out of the shadows, a mildly irritated look on his face at how easily Edward could spot him, no matter how hard he tried to hide. The gruff Fida'i folding his arms and cocking an eyebrow.
"He likes to follow me around," Edward explained. "Not an easy task, but he keeps up pretty well… Do you mind going to Earth?" he asked James.
James looked puzzled.
"I'm sending you to Field Marshal Riley," Edward said. "Give him all the help you can…" and with a simple wave of his hand James flashed out of the chamber.
"I keep forgetting to wait for an answer…" Edward looked perplexed. "It's strange, like I am getting too used to just having my own way. You've got no problem with this do you?"
The young Kardiac lieutenant shook his head, "it is, how to say… all good, sì?"
Politiburo - Geldan VII - Republican Territory
~~*~~
Descending through the atmosphere city, the MAG-lev roared along the skyhook heading for Geldan VII, and the inevitable showdown that was coming with the Politburo.
Hipper didn't like to admit it, but there were times when he dreaded returning home. And considering the rapidity of the summons he'd received, he guessed that the old men who had seized control of the Republic and held it in the iron grip of their coterie, now felt fear for the first time in decades.
He sat with his arms folded across his chest, the cap visor pulled down to his eyes as if asleep. And he was glad that his men were content to leave their endless questions about what was to come, and allow him some peace.
Geldan VII, he had a family down there. Three daughters, not bad for a man who spent much of his life in the depths of space. But his wife liked that, she was mistress of their house, spending his money, and administrating his affairs, allowing him the freedom to serve his nation. He wouldn't have it any other way, that and she was still, even after forty years, the most beautiful woman in his world.
The planet had gone on combat alert, a state of war readiness being prepared, causing civilian traffic too and from the Capital world to be stemmed, and priorities given to the military vessels as they stood ready to defend the Republic from attack.
Hipper knew it was all for morale. The Politburo wouldn't sanction a war, there had been too much war in the Republic, living in the threat of terrorism had given those in power all the latitude they needed to enforce their control over the populace. But the spectre of a real war, one where there could be real losses? The old men in power wouldn't risk that, they enjoyed their privileged positions far too much.
What was their options?
The XF project for one, but that was weeks away from being ready. Which meant that the Republic would be looking for the most valuable of commodities, time.
That left diplomacy.
Hipper didn't relish that option. In diplomacy concessions would have to be made and met. Lies spread, disinformation and strategy becoming the staple as the military got mired down in a web of deceit that would snare them.
He liked the cleanliness of war. At least he was in control, and wouldn't have to appease armchair tacticians with the benefit of hindsight, overly criticising his handling of things.
As the Maglev came to a rest at the station, he rose, knowing what was at stake in the highest-echelon politics, he was shrewd enough to be able to play their game, and armed with conclusive proof of the size of the threat arrayed against them in his briefcase, he hoped they would finally open their eyes and act.
Thornton School - A-IX - Amsus Occupied Territory
~~*~~
Aleš rested against the dormitory wall, watching as Duncan sat at his desk tapping a pencil against the wood, staring out of the window as yet another Amsus Raptor blew skywards, taking yet more of the GN-2 refinements for the Amsus warmachine. Technology that would tip the scales of the war once they were implemented.
The strange kid, Ben, was sitting on the end of Duncan's bed, looking patient, as if he knew that Duncan would make up his mind in his own time. Supremely confident for a stray found in a tunnel deep underground.
Aleš shook his head, wondering why he was risking everything he had worked for just to help a friend. But that in of itself was the answer; one good friend was worth ten bad ones tenfold. Duncan had bent a sympathetic ear, had shown kindness in a place ruled by vicious and vindictive competition between all the GN-2s.
"We're going to need help if we're going to get you off of A-IX," Aleš murmured as he leaned there, his index finger tapping against the leg of his pin-striped trousers. "I can't feasibly do it on my own, and if Strega is serious about keeping you on the colony, then she has probably ordered the local customs and immigration officers to limit your movements."
"I was thinking my odds weren't favourable," Duncan stated as he stood up and looked at his friend. "What kind of help are we talking about here? It isn't as if we have contacts in the Fifth Column."
"Well we do have our own fifth column," Aleš joked, looking back down the hall towards a far door with red and blue light flickering around the frame.
Duncan joined Aleš at the doorway, looking down the hall as well, suddenly drawing uneasy. "I don't know about that…"
"They can help," Aleš pressed. "Rick and Nick are probably in the same boat you and all the other outcasts are, faced with a choice they'd pick helping you if it meant they got free as well."
"Their freedom is what worries me," Duncan responded levelly. "Can you imagine those two loose on the galaxy? The mayhem and mischief they'd cause would be devastating…"
"You could direct it," Aleš suggested. "Pointed at the right target, that mayhem and mischief could be quite the weapon."
"Double edged sword my friend, double edged and very sharp" Duncan sighed as he rested on his cane. "Is there any other way?"
Aleš chewed his lip, "I'd offer you the odds, but you're just as smart as I am with numbers. You can calculate for yourself…"
"And factoring in those two, my odds of escape increase four fold," Duncan nodded, making his decision. "We have to risk it, then, and woe betides the galaxy after this."
"Oh the galaxy probably deserves it," Aleš said glibly. "You know how the saying goes about sin being, at times, the only recourse."
"Then perhaps we should sin a little," Duncan said looking over at Ben sitting still and quiet, "you coming?" he asked.
Ben stood up, nodding his head. "I'm with you always, Admiral."
Duncan frowned a little again, as he limped down the hall. Aleš and Ben followed a step or two behind. Aleš adjusting his tie and looking every inch the banker he was set to become.
The deep pounding of bass music greeted them as they approached the door. The lights shifting and flickering in time to the beat, rhythmically flashing as the music reached its crescendo.
Duncan steeled himself, as he rapped his cane against the door, readying himself for what was to come. There was a pause in the loud music, and a rustle before the door was thrown open dramatically, and the pungent smell of pot, combined with dirty laundry wafted out.
The youth resting against the door was still in his pyjamas, wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt wrapped around him against the cold. A shock of electric-blue hair rose up at odd angles, showing that he had just turfed himself out of bed. A wonder to Duncan considering the volume of the music that had been playing.
"Who is it?" called a voice from within the room.
"Greenback and the Gimp, plus some new kid," the first boy called back. He stared at them a moment before he asked, "yeah?"
"What do they want?" the second boy asked, poking his head around the door, looking over the rims of red-mirrored sunglasses, his hair a fire-engine red and his smile bright. "Hi Duncan, hi Aleš, hi newkid…"
"Sex probably," the first said sounding bored.
"Duncan doesn't have sex, he's a eunuch…" the second replied cheerily. Then he flushed red in the cheeks and looked at Duncan, "sorry I didn't mean…"
"May we come in?" Duncan asked tilting his cane to gesture inside.
"Might as well," the first stated swinging the door open on a disaster zone of clothes, computer equipment and books. A large Trid up against the wall was depicting a computer game, the bright red letters PAUSE flashing on it.
"Here because of your bust up with Strega?" the first boy asked, falling into a rumpled bed, tucking his legs up under him.
"Something like that," Duncan said, looking back at Aleš who was busy trying to ignore the dirty pair of underpants that were hanging down from a lamp. "We need your help, well you and Nick's." He turned to the boy who wore an identical sweater to first boys, except it was red.
An idea of one of the Thornton school masters, in an effort to tell the two identical GN-2 clones apart. Naturally Rick and Nick had taken it to the extreme in their usual method of rebelliousness.
"You barely say two words to us all semester…" Rick said looking disgruntled. "You don't even want a quickie in the bathroom, and you come in here looking for my help…"
"Rick," Nick said, pleadingly. "They need our help, we can at least hear what they have to say. It's not like we're doing anything…"
"Okay," Rick said, laying back into his duvet and resting a hand on his knee, "you want something. What is it?"
"A way to get Duncan off of A-IX," Aleš said turning away from the offending underpants. "The usual no questions asked method."
"Look, just cause we're helping you with that First Bank thing, doesn't mean we're a charity service," Rick stated coldly. "And Duncan, no offence, but you've been a frigid asshole since we got to Thornton. Why should we help you?"
"Because we're nice people?" Nick offered.
"Shut up," Rick snapped, trying not to laugh at his duplicate.
"Because I will take you with me," Duncan offered.
"Us," Rick said, suddenly sitting up. "You'd take us with you?"
Nick stood up from where he was leaning, shifting nervously. "We can't, Strega will go ballistic. We're supposed to stay here and…"
"And wank ourselves to sleep every night," Rick finished. "Tedium and boredom… you'd really take us with you, Dunk?"
"Just for the record," Aleš cleared his throat. "I am not going to the same place as you. I have my tickets, thank you muchly, and I'd rather skip the dynamic duo's misadventures in wonderland."
Rick smirked at him, "sure, love us and leave us. Typical suit, likes it dirty, then when there's people around goes all respectable. I bet you wear French knickers under that suit…"
Aleš looked scandalized. "I don't!"
"You should," Nick suggested. "They are very liberating…"
"Shut up Nick," Rick bit out again. "Ignore him, they ran out of genetic material, and he got short changed. So what's the deal Dunk… you take us with you and then what?"
"Strega," Duncan replied twirling the cane once through his fingers. "we go after her, after we secure ourselves a means of survival. And you two get to cause as much mischief and pain to her as you can…"
"I'll want that in writing," Rick said firmly. "And I'll remind you of it every time you complain we've gone too far… okay we'll help you… 'cept for one more clause."
"And that is?" Duncan inquired.
"You're not our daddy. I don't want anymore shit like Strega pulls," Rick looked firm on that. "We do what we want, who we want, whenever we want. I ain't some guppy henchman who can't shoot straight and needs to be nagged constantly to do shit. Equal partners…"
"All right," Duncan agreed.
"I like to be told what to do," Nick murmured petulantly, looking over at Ben curiously.
"If we're going to get off of A-IX," Rick said, ignoring Nick's comment. "We're going to need some shit. The Core for one thing… and a bunch more help."
Nick blinked, "cool!" he looked about him, kicking through some of the computer parts, reaching down and recovering a small hand help PC. "We're going to need mobile systems… and some tools."
"Systems we can build on the way," Rick responded getting up and hauling on a pair of blue jeans over his pyjama bottoms, recovering a matching pair of red-mirrored sunglasses and pulling them on. "Optronic displays," he explained tapping them. "for the man on the run… well I'm set."
"Don't you need to pack?" Aleš suggested.
"Screw it," Rick replied. "There's going to be plenty of chances to buy on the way, plus after we got Aleš his new bankroll, I made sure to get us a Tritanium card… and I gave both Nick and I pretty impressive credit scores while…"
"Okay I get it," Aleš responded.
"Well before we leave, we need to hit the labs," Rick stated evenly. "A couple of science projects that may come in useful in our quest to slay the evil bitch queen…" He kicked on his boots and bounced indicating he was ready to go.
Aleš sighed, "well I will see you soon Duncan, good luck with the ambiguously gay duo…"
"Nothing ambiguous about it," Nick said evenly. "just genetics…"
"Makes you wonder, considering we were genetically engineered," Rick replied. "we gotta go."
Duncan took pause, looking at his friend Aleš, taking the time to shake his hand. "Luck."
"Indeed," Aleš replied shaking the hand firmly.
Politburo - Geldan VII - Republican Territory
~~*~~
"Two million ships-of-the-line?" The incredulous member of the politburo's voice was strangled. He was a snowy-haired man with round spectacles perched on the end of his nose, and the tactical report from the Kiov clutched in his hands.
Hipper was sitting to one side, as his first officer Radoslav was delivering the report. Military tradition dictated that a Captain, or in this case an Admiral, was a sacrosanct position, and beyond the confines of a courts-martial, above cross-examination. That, unfortunately for the Republican Commander, meant he had to bear the brunt of the Politburo's questioning.
"That is correct, sir," Radoslav confirmed. "We have the data recordings, which are currently with the GRU, and available for you to review should you require confirmation of the Amsus assets arrayed around the Jump Nexus." He stared at the self-styled great men of the Republic, its founders, its thinkers… its dictators. "However, if the Amsus are still following their original directives, we will have to re-evaluate our estimates of their ship numbers upwards to a half-billion starships…"
"Careful Commander," Hipper warned his Exec in a low tone as the men around the table before them erupted into furious arguing, "I would rather you not give the Chairman of the Republic a stroke."
"Sorry, sir," Radoslav replied, looking chagrined. "But they should know what we're facing…"
"Order!" the Chairman demanded, slamming his gavel down on the highly polished table. "Order…"
"Don't you think that you may have… exaggerated those numbers a little?" Minister Gershwin, a plump man who sweated a lot in his fine suit mopped his brow with a handkerchief. "It is understandable, and an honest mistake, perhaps you forgot to carry a decimal point…"
Radoslav shook his head, "the Amsus have had three hundred years, and the resources of countless worlds to build their armada, without further information, we can only speculate… but the numbers that VI-233 observed and transmitted back are conclusive. We have a serious threat arrayed against us, and we need…"
"This council will decide what needs to be done, Commander," the Chairman barked from his end of the table. "I don't know about you gentlemen, but I have heard enough of this… report." He stood.
Hipper unfurled his arms as he rose, "you haven't heard our recommendations yet."
"If," the chairman rounded on Hipper, "and I mean if, your estimates are correct, then the military of the Republic is inadequate to the task of dealing with this threat. We will consider all of our options carefully… including methods of re-sealing the Jump Nexus…"
"With respect," Hipper pressed. "It took Admiral VonGrippen detonating a Type-9 warhead within the Gate Matrix to seal it the first time. And we are no longer in possession of such weaponry, nor possess the capacity to construct it. We should carefully consider all options…"
"This is true," Gershwin concurred. "However we still have the XF project…"
"Ahh," the Chairman smiled, looking across at Radoslav. "Well Commander, if you are so adamant that these Amsus are such a dire threat, then I shall provide you with the means to gain conclusive proof. Report to Space-dock, where you will assume direct responsibility over preparing the XF project…"
Radoslav looked pale, as he saluted crisply.
"And me?" Hipper demanded.
"You, Admiral," the Chairman turned, "will return to the Kiov and await further instructions. We need time to debate this issue… and formulate a proper course of action."