CHAPTER 30
She-Rok, the Hrang Master stepped respectfully into Kvel Mavek’s office. The Pro Consul was alone, waiting patiently. It was three decurns since the collapse of the Quotterim and Syraptose resistance to Terra, and a foreboding gloom filled the halls of the Alliance. Throughout the remnants of the confederation was a rising hysteria amongst the populace, and a burgeoning fear of Alexander and the Terran fleets. Planetary defenses were manned round the clock. Skittish militias rang the bombardment sirens every time a cargo ship dropped out of superluminal. More than once the planetary defense projectors opened up without warning, blasting hapless civilian ships to dust before ever ascertaining their identity. The cities were evacuated of all but essential personnel. Those that remained sent their families to the country, spending their days in a nervous malaise and their nights in shelters. Not since the ancient wars of Chem expansion had the galaxy known such fear.
Both the Hrang and the Kempec were sensitive to the hysteria, the halls outside the office in Roma were almost deserted; but they also saw a dire personal need in the danger. Once the door was sealed the Hrang bowed.
“My congratulations, Madame Pro Consul, in convening this etherlink with Grand Admiral Khandar with the full Council as witness you allow him to make his case directly, and not through an intermediary: that is to say yourself.”
Mavek nodded. The astute Kempec had no desire to be swayed by Khandar’s optimistic militancy and then be forced to convince her political colleagues in his course. There was more to it, which the Master clearly understood.
The Master helped himself to a seat, his entire manner conspiratorial. “As I see it,” he continued, “there are those among us, both personally and as peoples who will see the Grand Admiral’s desire to forge ahead with the offensive advantageous.”
“If by that you mean the Golkos, I quite agree,” the Pro Consul replied coolly. She punched up the necessary data on her screens and amplified the Hrang’s insinuation. “The Golkos by their execution of the Terrans have put themselves in a precarious position. Alexander has made the recovery of his people a very public matter, whether it is genuine or not, and there is little doubt that the occupied governments of Syraptose and Quotterim will furnish Alexander with all the knowledge pertinent to the issue. It will be a grave consideration for the Alliance, but more especially to the Golkos. I’ve no doubt as to what the Golkos representative on the Council will favor.”
“Is that so unique a position?” The Hrang asked evenly. “Certainly if we were to halt the offensive on Alexander and relieve the pressure on Terra there are many things which would come to light. Alexander would be free to pick and choose his worlds to conquer, and his worlds to parley with. What might an empire sell him to be one of the latter peoples? Information perhaps? Or is it already too late for that? The Syraptose and Quotterim were privy to many things in our councils, not the least of which were the authors of the Terran executions. The Golkos have their crimes to hide and rightly see Alexander in no favorable light. They are committed to war to the end. Yet are they the only ones? What else could our former confederates pass on to Alexander? What else might concern us, both of us, quite personally?”
“Your point?” Mavek said sternly.
“My point? Only that Alexander has historically taken a dim view on assassination attempts. Didn’t we discuss this once before?” She-Rok smiled irritatingly, his scaled lips showing short blunted teeth. “You remember, of course, that this support of the Terran assassination plans had the benefit and active support of both the Kempec and the Hrang. Now Alexander is inclined from what we’ve seen do be magnanimous in his victory is he not?”
“You are correct,” Mavek admitted. “Alexander has extended very reasonable terms to both the Quotterim and the Syraptose. To each empire he has extended the rights he gave the Scythians; that is the right to keep their Homeworlds inviolate, and full memberships in their so-called Galactic Federation. Both worlds must allow colonization by other members of the Galactic Federation on all habitable planets without the Homeworlds, but they also have those rights in Terran space. It is disturbing, though on the surface reasonable.”
“He has even gone so far as to grant them a quota of two hundred and fifty ships for a Homeworld defense force; the rest to enter a Galactic Defense Fleet,” She-Rok noted.
“In other words a Terran fleet,” Mavek corrected. Then she sighed in exasperation. “The conditions are patently unacceptable to the logical ear, Master She-Rok; but damningly reasonable to the terrified ear of the populace.”
“So much more important our own resolve to this question of the war,” She-Rok insisted.
“Go on,” the Pro Consul told him.
“Alexander’s benevolence will almost certainly fall upon peoples, though not necessarily on individuals,” he explained. “It is highly possible that given similar terms the Alliance members might accede to peace separately with Alexander, leaving those of us with blood on our hands to face his anger alone. Certainly the Golkos are at risk, and deservedly so, but included as well are the Hrang and the Kempec. Now our crimes are not so great in comparison, but where Alexander meets out mercy to a people he might very well deal his own brand of justice to individuals.”
“Are we then to sell our states into this continuing war to save our persons?”
“If the thought that the name of Kvel Mavek being mentioned to Alexander does not make you shudder then by all means withhold your support at the Council,” She-Rok told his compatriot. He waited for an answer, but there was none. Mavek was silent. Finally She-Rok nodded. “Then that is four. The Hrang have sufficient cause to warrant a continuation of the conflict, at the moment, as do the Golkos, and your own people. The Seer’koh are well within the Golkos camp, so I would assume we have four out of eight votes on the Council. That gives us what we need then, for as Pro Consul you not only cast a ballot for your people but serve as the tie breaker. We have the votes to give Grand Admiral Khandar his continuance then, to all our profits!”
Mavek simply nodded grimly, leaving the office with the Hrang in tow to attend the Council.
#
“Alexander, I think you should hear this: the Gagarin has picked up some Quotterim, marooned courtesy of the Golkos,” Admiral Augesburcke informed the Overlord, interrupting his working breakfast.
Alexander just munched on his toast and stared at his computer screens. He had the transcripts of various interviews with Syraptose and Quotterim government officials on his screens and he was digesting them even as he devoured his breakfast.
“Blast and be bothered anyway,” he exclaimed, almost amused at the amount of activity he’d caused around the cosmos. “Doesn’t the galaxy know I’m busy? I have here the keys to unlocking this Alliance but I can’t put them together if these people continue stirring the pot. Not you, Admiral, the Alliance. Why can’t they just go about their invasion business while they have a chance and let me work? As for the Gagarin what is our intrepid Konstantinov doing with himself now? Since when has rescuing poor stranded Quotterim from some deserted world been enough excitement for him? Couldn’t he just leave them be and find some more serious trouble to get himself into?”
Augesburcke laughed dryly. He had come to know that Alexander’s sarcastic, sometimes rambling sense of humor was a way for him to handle stress. At this point in time with the Alliance fleets approaching Terra and the Terran fleets still days behind them Alexander was feeling the stress. Augesburcke coughed slightly and continued his account anyway, a certain sign to Alexander that the Admiral thought the interruption warranted. The Overlord glanced up from his screens and listened.
“Actually Konstantinov rescued them from space, Alexander,” Augesburcke told him intently. “The Captain reports that the Golkos, upon hearing the news of the Syraptose and Quotterim surrender, promptly jettisoned their representatives into space; making them, as he put it, walk the plank.”
“Monstrous! There’s not a cuddly side to these Golkos is there? I suppose I shouldn’t talk, considering my past life as a pirate,” Alexander mentioned under his breath, as he thought over Augesburcke’s news.
“Unfortunately there were no other survivors,” the Admiral continued, “however; the Quotterim survivors include their ranking admiral who was privy to all of Grand Admiral Khandar’s councils and his strategy.”
“Indeed?” Alexander queried, his face lighting up. “Now that might just be worthwhile! These interviews are all well and good but the Golkos and their cronies have taken great care to let as little news filter out of the Alliance organization and back to the member states as possible. We know all we need of their strategic timing and the requirements of Quotterim and Syraptose support, but precious little else. I don’t know whether we are asking the wrong questions or the wrong people, but an interview with this Quotterim might prove worth our while; that is, if they are willing to talk.”
“After her experience with Golkos gratitude Captain Konstantinov reports that Admiral Senn’tyr is not only willing, but quite eager to talk, Alexander,” Augesburcke smiled.
“Excellent! Let’s get to it then!” Alexander exclaimed, jumping up and striding out of his quarters to the conference room. In only a few moments the Communications Officer had the etherlink set up, and Captain Konstantinov appeared on the screen. The Siberian expected to speak to a representative of the Admiralty, but to his surprise it was Alexander himself who appeared on his viewer.
“Good morning Captain Konstantinov,” Alexander greeted him. “It seems you’ve been busy again. You have a nose for the ball, so to speak, as things continue to happen wherever you go. I understand you’ve picked up some guests?”
“That is correct, Overlord!” Konstantinov informed him excitedly, and he hesitated, awaiting Alexander’s next question. When Alexander merely nodded and raised a brow the Siberian understood he was to tell his story. He dove right in, snapping off words like a whirling whip. As Alexander failed to interrupt him, instead listening patiently, Konstantinov relaxed and by the end of his report his manner was clear and concise.
“Excellent, well done Captain!” Alexander congratulated him. “Now is Admiral Senn’tyr available, I have some questions I wish to put to her?”
“Directly, Overlord,” the Captain answered, and shortly the small Quotterim appeared before Alexander. Despite the vast distance she was clearly uncomfortable with the interview. Her wispy whiskers twitched and her eyes stared everywhere but at Alexander.
“Good morning Admiral Senn’tyr, I trust my Captain and his crew are seeing to your needs?”
“I have no complaints whatsoever with the treatment we have received under Captain Konstantinov’s stewardship; especially considering the circumstances of our presence in your space.” The Quotterim told him, adding, “I am certain that Captain Konstantinov has expressed my willingness to discuss my experiences in this unfortunate matter, and that is the reason for this interview. Let me only say that this is true with regard to any information of the Alliance save that which would prove detrimental to Quottera. After my recent adventures I have no loyalty to the Alliance, but I will not betray my people or my world.”
“I trust I will have no reason to ask you to do as much,” Alexander told her. “Forgive me beforehand if I dispense with the formalities of diplomacy and get to the point, my time is not my own.”
“I am at your leisure, Overlord,” Senn’tyr assured him.
“Very well, may I first ask you to give me an account, as briefly as you can, of your experiences since you were assigned to the Alliance fleet of the Golkos and Seer’koh? I am especially interested in all of your observations and dealings with the Grand Admiral.”
Senn’tyr nodded, understanding the nature of the question and launched into a detailed, but concise history of the combined fleet. It was in this way that Alexander discovered the struggle and eventual ascendency of Grand Admiral Khandar and all the intimacies of the Alliance fleet. When the Quotterim finished with an account of her final council aboard the flagship Alexander asked her to give her impression of the Grand Admiral. She thought for a moment before answering, but when she did her response was firm and authoritive, as if it was a subject which visited her often.
“Khandar is decidedly the most intelligent and flexible Golkos I’ve ever known. He has the rare capacity to look beyond glory, cruelty and dominance—all well documented Golkos passions—and balances them with an intellectual view. It is strange for me to say it but I do not think the presumed execution of my party, and the actual execution of the other Alliance representatives, was anything more than Khandar carrying out his government’s policy. It was a decision beyond even his authority to alter, and I am certain similar, though more effective measures have been carried out against my people and our former confederates now in the Alliance government. This is quite simply their way, and you must be prepared for such a possibility when you place yourself under their power. It is similar to what happened to your own people, Overlord. There was no personal animosity towards the Terrans; it was simply a matter of Golkos policy. They executed your people without even giving thought to informing or consulting the rest of the Alliance.”
Alexander straightened as if he’d been shot. No information had come through their previous interviews regarding the Terran hostages as the Alliance Council had actually been very careful to keep the information censored. Khandar knew, however, and he’d addressed the fact to his staff when discussing the conquering of Terra. He was against the execution of prisoners unless it could be effective in gaining concessions from Alexander; but he lost little sleep over the crime and failed to understand that it was any more than a political ploy of Alexander’s. To the Overlord of the Terran Empire, however, the news was a blow. He’d feared it, but there was a great gulf of hope between the fear of tragedy and its reality. The very senselessness of the killings made them all the more difficult to understand. Alexander sighed with genuine pain.
“So my people are all dead?” It was a statement, not a fact, though it begged confirmation.
The Quotterim was understandably agitated, now fearing to give any response. When Alexander’s burning green eyes looked across space to her own, however, she felt rather than knew herself to answer, “Yes, Overlord, the Golkos executed them all after interrogating them. I must stress, however, that it was done without the approval or even the knowledge of any Quotterim, or indeed any other state of the Alliance.”
“In your silence and in your support are you not guilty of complicity in this crime?” Alexander’s voice sunk to a terrifying baritone.
“Perhaps, but we were swayed by fear of conquest, and small knowledge of Terrans,” the Quotterim said quickly, almost desperately. “We lamented the loss of life, but in truth it was not considered to be anything more than an inconvenience.”
“An inconvenience? You call the execution of two thousand one hundred and thirty-one people an inconvenience and the Alliance dares to brand me a barbarian?” Alexander thundered, pounding the table.
“We could not assume anything else based upon our limited knowledge of your people, Alexander,” Senn’tyr replied, shaking uncontrollably. “Our data from the Scythians told us that over one hundred million Terrans had been executed over the last centum by their own species! In light of that we did not consider it a grave matter. I can only plead that we were misled by the Scythians.”
Admiral Senn’tyr expected Alexander to conclude his rage with an order to execute her and her party, possibly her planet. Instead his eyes suddenly closed and his shoulders slumped. He grasped his temples and his voice became a hoarse whisper. “So our crimes of the past continue to haunt us. The mound of innocents grows, and the fear of its stench ruins otherwise honorable folk.” When he looked up at Admiral Senn’tyr again he looked old and tired. “You need not fear my retribution, Admiral. I’ll not take it out on prisoners and, hopefully, future friends. You have answered my questions truthfully and to your peril. Your honesty will not be punished. I have only a few more questions and I will release you from this interview.”
“As you wish, Overlord,” Senn’tyr said, regaining her composure.
“Admiral what is the sense of your colleagues in the Alliance after the fall of Syraptose and Quotterim?”
“There is a cataract of Galactic-wide panic; that is the closest allegory I can offer. From the reports discussed on board Grand Admiral Khandar’s flagship it is clear that every Homeworld believes Alexander’s fleets will appear in orbit about them at any moment. This has caused an emergency reassessment of the Alliance’s military plans.”
“Is it your opinion that Grand Admiral Khandar will continue to move against Terra?”
“It is.”
“That is my assessment also,” Alexander nodded. Then he asked, “Yet what of the political aspect of the situation? Certainly the Golkos are for pushing on, but what of the other members of the Alliance? What of the Seer’koh, the Hrang and the Kempec?”
“The Seer’koh will follow the Golkos lead until they see reason to go another way,” Senn’tyr reported. “There is no affinity between the two peoples other than a mutual aggressive character, but the Seer’koh are intelligent and practical. If they see more profit in another direction they will take it. They are not afraid of the Golkos, and they do not like to be threatened. Above all they cherish their sovereignty and guard it jealously. As for the other states they fear Terra more than Golkos, and that is the source of the Alliance.”
“Have you had an opportunity to review the main points of agreement between our governments?” Alexander asked, referring to the peace agreement signed by the Quotterim and the Syraptose.
“I have not, Overlord.”
“Stand by one moment, Admiral. I shall send them to you. They are not over-long, and I would like your opinion of it.”
The document appeared on one of the Gagarin’s screens and the Quotterim shifted uncomfortably as she read it. After a few moments reflection she decided on a truthful answer, more because she expected Alexander would recognize a lie and become angry with it than her own courage of conviction.
“I am pleasantly surprised to see that the Quotterim would still retain sovereignty and overall legislative authority over the current extent of our empire. Beyond that it is not a treaty we would have signed if not under duress.”
“Do you have any opinion as to the mirror clauses? The right of emigration into Terran space by Quotterim equal to the reciprocal rights of Terrans?”
“It seems to me, at first glance, to be an opportunity for Terran expansion into space, but not blatantly so. I must admit to some confusion as to the purpose and effect of such a policy.”
“Understandable,” Alexander mused. “Let me ask you this; are the terms in your opinion a viable offer to a state as opposed to war or the threat of war?”
Finally Alexander’s line of questioning made sense to Admiral Senn’tyr, and the next grand phase of his plans was clear to her. She sighed and nodded. “I understand. You will fragment what remains of the Alliance and replace it with your Federation. I complement you, Alexander. You will have your galactic empire in all but name. You should have no trouble gaining volunteers from the Alliance. To give up so little sovereignty in the name of peace is too little price to pay when the conqueror of the ages is at your doorstep.”
“That is what I wanted to know, Admiral,” Alexander told her. “I thank you for your time. Let me leave you with a wish of good fortune to you and your people, and a final thought.”
“Yes, Alexander?”
“Simply this: if I wanted a galactic empire I would not take it through diplomacy, no matter how advantageous the terms. I would want my foot upon every world, and every world to bend their knee only after I’d beaten them down. That is the glory desired by the conqueror. Look upon the reality of our two worlds and think on it. If you can do that with an open mind then maybe you will understand Alexander and forget your own legends. The galaxy is a difficult enough place within which to live without fulfilling the expectations of others.”
“That is a sobering thought,” Senn’tyr replied, adding, “I will do as you ask and think upon it, as I expect we will have many dealings with the Terran Overlord in the future.”
“That you shall,” Alexander assured her. He meant to terminate the interview, but the Quotterim asked a simple question.
“If I may impose on your generosity, Overlord, our families must assume the worst,”
“Of course!” Alexander cut her off, though not angrily. “I shall see to it that your families on Quottera are informed of your fortunate survival. We shall make what arrangements we can to have you transferred from the Gagarin. Unfortunately it is a ship of war in a combat zone, and unbefitting for passengers of a state at peace with the Terran Empire. We shall attempt to rectify the situation in a manner somewhat more dignified than that used by the Golkos.”
“That would be appreciated, Alexander,” Senn’tyr bowed with all due humility and sincerity, and then Captain Konstantinov reappeared.
“Are there any last instructions, Overlord, before we break the connection?”
“You jog my memory, Admiral Konstantinov, that’s right: Admiral. You’ve made quite a name for yourself on that boat of yours, enough for Admiral Augesburcke and I to be discussing your future and our needs. Happily there seems to be a commonality between the two.”
“With all due respects, Overlord, I don’t wish to leave the Gagarin. I believe I’m more useful out here than at a command center!” Konstantinov replied, flushed with embarrassment.
Alexander laughed, “Of course you are, Damn it! In fact, you’re so effective at being a nuisance to the Alliance I simply want to spread it about.” Then he turned serious, and Konstantinov cut off his own protest and listened intently. “Understand this, Konstantinov, this is no mean engagement. What follows through these next weeks is nothing less than the battle for Terra. You are bold, audacious and reckless. The timing is right. I have no need for cautious commanders. We lost some good people at Thermopylae and I need to fill voids. Your name is up. Fortunately, I have something special for you. You shall remain in command of the Gagarin and remain in the field; but I am designating you Commander in Chief, “Wolfpack,” Seventh Fleet. You will be in charge of coordinating the efforts of all Seventh Fleet boats. That’s ninety-four boats after losses under your command. What’s more we have all the boats from the Second Fleet, and the Fifth Fleet on their way to support you. That will give you another forty-nine boats to play with.”
“Overlord, I . . .” Konstantinov started to protest.
“Damn it man I need you!” Alexander cut him off. “I cannot be everywhere at once. Listen, Konstantinov, if nothing else lead by example. The situation is dire. I’ve got still got seventeen hundred enemy warships enroute to Terra! Facing them are two hundred and sixty ships-of-the-line and your one hundred and forty-three boats. Does that tell you where we stand? I’ve chosen you as CINCWOLF because I need every one of those boats doing to the Alliance exactly what you’ve been doing. Show them, teach them, order them; whatever you need to do. We need attrition! Just understand this one thing Admiral: every single one of you is expendable. If all we can do is ram them that is what we must do. This is our world, our civilization and our families we are protecting. We are the soldiers and we have a duty to perform. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir!” Konstantinov barked, “Admiral Konstantinov awaiting your orders, Overlord!”
“Attack Admiral Konstantinov, continuous unrelenting attack! I want no Alliance soldier or sailor in Terran space to get a wink of sleep from this moment until our fleet engages them in the Terran system! You are not to worry about our fleets, Admiral. As far as you are concerned you are alone in space and completely autonomous. The only time you are to have boats unengaged is to rearm or to die. Those are your orders. See to it, Admiral!”
“Hail Alexander!” was Konstantinov’s only reply.
“Good hunting, Admiral!” Alexander told him, and terminated the connection.