Read Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights Online
Authors: Lawrence White
"Finally, we have to do all of this with the knowledge that our ultimate goal is to work ourselves out of a job. Every single Empire employee on Tranxte will have to acknowledge that, and they'll have to be reminded on a regular basis."
"You could be right, but you're thinking too small,” Stven said.
"I'm not surprised, Sire. I'm just a soldier. This is all a little out of my league."
“It’s not out of your league. You just need to expand your vision to encompass what works rather than what can be achieved by a colonel in the Imperial Marines. It takes a while to make adjustments like that. I was a lieutenant when the rebellion started. Sir Tarn was an ensign just out of the academy. Lady Krys was a civilian. George was just a ship. We’ve all been through the process, and I’d like to think we’re proof it can be done."
Havlock's gaze slid from one Knight to the next, then to Hawke and Kori who both had uncomfortable expressions on their faces.
Hawke spoke softly. “Should we be here, sir? This is a little above our pay grade."
“Yes, you should. You've both been a great resource to me and to Tranxte. We’re establishing a plan, and you’re a resource just as I am. Jump in whenever you feel it's appropriate. Besides, I think it's your futures we're talking about."
“I get the feeling our futures are decided, sir. I think we're talking about yours now. You're being tested just as we were."
Havlock directed a sharp look to Stven. "Is that true?"
Stven ignored the question. Instead, he addressed Hawke. "Your perceptiveness intrigues me, Sergeant. I see why you're such a good negotiator."
"Am I right?"
Stven stared at him but did not answer. To Havlock, he said, "You have indeed been tested, though we tend to judge people by their actions rather than their words, and your actions have spoken for you through Queen Atiana. We just wanted to meet you face to face. I told you that you were thinking too small and I meant it. It takes time to learn to govern at this level. We'll give you some time, but not a lot of time.”
“Time for what, Sire?”
“We four Knights are in agreement that you’re the one for the job. I particularly appreciate your understanding that your ultimate goal is to work yourself out of a job. Will you accept our call?"
"Sire, what exactly do you mean?"
"We want you to lead Tranxte through its emergence. We're open to suggestions, but it seems best to us that we name you ‘Sky Lord, Governor of Tranxte.’ As governor you'll exercise control over the Imperial Marines, you'll have access to Empire resources, and you'll guide the Teacher and the Healer as they expand their territories and responsibilities. Most important, you'll exercise Empire authority and limit that authority insofar as you can over the locals. Oh, and one other minor item: you’ll determine the fate of the gleasons."
Havlock found himself speechless. Him a governor? Then he thought about all the things he could do under that umbrella. Everything he had hoped for was possible, though he would have to deliver on some tough promises.
He turned to Hawke and Kori. Both of them were grinning. He looked to Atiana who was sitting right beside him and found her deep in thought. He interrupted that thought. "Did you know about this, Your Majesty?"
She shook herself out of her reverie and focused fully on him. "I did not, Sky Lord. I'm growing fond of these great Knights from the stars. What they ask of you is exactly what our home needs."
"Your home."
"No, Sky Lord. This will take everything you are and then some. If you accept, you will call Tranxte your home for the rest of your days."
Their gazes locked on each other seeking answers to questions which had not yet been asked. Both played the game stoically, but in the end Atiana broke the silence. "Say yes, Gar."
He nodded solemnly and turned back to Stven. “Sire, what you’re offering is more than I hoped for in my wildest imaginings, but it feels like the right thing for Tranxte. I’m your man. I accept, and I won't let you down."
"I'm not the one you need to satisfy, Sky Lord. The Queen will take a very personal interest in this. Governor Seeton will be your contact for support, but never forget that you report ultimately to the Queen. To satisfy the formalities, I herby Name you Sky Lord, Governor of Tranxte."
He looked to Hawke and Kori who both sprang to their feet. "I assume you'll both accept a transfer from military to government payroll?”
He heard two "Yes, Sires” and looked to Havlock. "Would you like to do the honors, Governor?"
"I would, but the paths they've chosen will be hard. Empowerment by a Knight might ease their way."
"Very well.
"
To Hawke and Kori he said, “I hereby Name you Teacher Hawke, to be known locally as Teacher, and Healer Kori, to be known locally as Healer. Your Sky Lord will have to fix your pay scales, but I'm sure he’ll find the Queen generous to those in whom she places so much trust."
To Havlock, he said, “Our next stop will be Governor Seeton. We'll let him know your new status, and he'll notify General Stymes. We have a fast ship. Would you like us to deliver a shopping list?"
"Sire, that would be helpful. I’ll have it to you by tomorrow.
”
He paused for a moment, then asked. “What exactly is a fast ship? I’ve heard rumors of them, but I don’t know the details.”
“The details are classified and probably incomprehensible to us anyway. A fast ship will make the transition to Aldebaran in about a week. A regular ship takes seven or eight weeks. Getting back to your shopping list, make sure it includes a means of searching for a new home for the gleasons and a plan for your infrastructure here.”
“Sire?”
“I’m talking about working on the whole problem, not just a part of it. You’ll need ships and staff and an Empire enclave, probably a city.”
“I’m not looking that far down the road yet, Sire. The gleasons come first. Until we resolve that problem, every one of our people needs to be soldier first and every ship has to be a fighting ship. It's really too bad the gleason-finder software didn't work."
A loud squawk startled everyone. "You can't be right, Sky Lord," George said. "I developed that program myself."
Hawke spoke up, the issue close to his heart. ”Sorry, Sire,” he said. "I personally vouch for the Sky Lord’s statement. I've tried everything. Our sensors cannot distinguish between a gleason and any other animal."
"Standby," George said. He came back a few minutes later. "I just queried one of your shuttles. You’ve been operating with your shields up.”
“Of course we have, Sire,” Hawke replied.
“The program is very sensitive, Teacher. It requires all shielding to be dropped."
Havlock and Hawke looked at each other with open mouths. Hawke was the first to respond. "Uh, Sire, these are Imperial Marine shuttles. It’s utterly contrary to regulations to ever operate without a minimal level of shielding. I'm not even sure we can turn the shields all the way off."
"Well, we all have challenges. Find a way.” Everyone sensed the incredulity in George’s voice when he added, "You've been hunting gleasons without my program? How?”
Havlock thought the meeting was over and stood up, but Krys heard the commotion and stood up herself
.
“Stay a little longer,
”
she said, not as a request but as a demand. To Tarn, she said, “Come with me.”
Tarn took her arm and led her from the room, leaving an eerie silence behind after the connecting door snicked shut. Stven broke the silence by clearing his throat, a lengthy process for a dragon, then said, “She won’t be long. I’m curious about how you’ve been hunting gleasons. Are you willing to share your story with us?”
“Sire, it’s a pretty long story.”
“Can you condense it into 20 minutes?”
“I’ll try, Sire.”
The telling might have fit inside the 20 minute limit had there not been so many questions, most of them from the Protectors, and Havlock had barely gotten his squad into Shanloc when Tarn returned. He motioned to Havlock to accompany him and the two left the room. Havlock stepped into the adjoining quarters to discover Krys sitting on the floor with her eyes closed, her legs crossed and folded in front of herself, and her hands in her lap. He lifted his eyebrows in a question to Tarn, but Tarn just shrugged.
“No questions please, Governor,” Tarn instructed softly. “Just take her hands in your own. I know what I’m asking is a bit unusual, but it’s not optional.”
Havlock frowned as he knelt before Krys. When he reached out and took her limp hands in both of his own, her eyes flickered open and she stared ahead with a thoughtful look.
“Thank you, Governor. You may go now.”
Tarn delivered Havlock back to the meeting, admonishing him in private to say nothing about what had just happened. More than a little confused, he nevertheless honored the demand of a Knight and resumed his story. The first caravan had not even set out from Shanloc when Tarn returned and took Atiana from the room. She, too, returned in a few minutes. Tarn repeated the process with Galborae, Hawke, Kori, and Milae. When Milae returned, Tarn and Krys came with her. Everyone sensed a changed atmosphere in the room.
Krys did not delay. “What we’re about to discuss with you is an Imperial Secret. My very existence is an Imperial Secret. Governor Havlock, I’m certain you know what that means.”
“I do, My Lady.” He turned to Atiana, then Galborae and Milae. “An Imperial Secret is our highest level of secrecy. For us marines, compliance is not optional. For you, she’s asking that you agree to keep secret from others what we are about to discuss. Will you?”
Atiana’s forehead furrowed at the sudden heaviness within the room, but she knew she had few options. “If it has anything to do with removing the gleasons from Tranxte, yes, I agree.”
He looked to Galborae who shrugged and said, “Milae and I both agree.”
Krys sat on a couch opposite Havlock and Atiana, her back very straight and her hands resting in her lap. Tarn stood behind her. Stven, Hawke, Kori, Galborae, and Milae remained off to the side. Protectors and crew members relaxed around the periphery of the room, but everyone paid close attention to Krys.
“We’ll begin with your run-in with the Chessori, Governor,” she said. “Tell me about it.”
He sighed, her words deflating the high he had achieved after being named governor. This was not a story he wanted to tell—it was, in fact, the single most significant part of his life that he avoided discussing. But she was a Knight.
“When the battle for Aldebaran I began,” he said, “none of us had the slightest inkling it was coming. I’m not sure the Chessori knew it either, because they needed the weapons and equipment stored in our armories. I was in charge of security at one of six armories on the planet and was deep inside that armory when the Chessori struck. When I recovered from the effects of their mind weapon, the
scree,
I walked out the front door completely unaware that a major battle had been fought between Terran soldiers and the Chessori at my facility. The first person I met was a Terran sergeant who told me all of my men had been massacred by the Chessori.”
She nodded. “Yes, we’re intimately familiar with Chessori behavior and the effects of the
scree
. To most, it disables. For me, and I think for me alone, it’s what caused my blindness.”
Atiana brought a hand to her mouth in horror. Havlock had told her about his experience with the
scree
and he had held nothing back, but there had been no permanent damage to him.
Havlock nodded, empathizing with Krys. “I’m very sorry, My Lady.”
“Tell me,” she asked, cocking her head to the side in contemplation, “what affect did the
scree
have on you?”
That particular question had not been asked of him at the inquest. “The same as everyone else, My Lady. Unbelievable pain. I was completely incapacitated.”
“And when it ended?”
“Confusion and a very bad headache, the worst I’ve ever had. It was some time before I could stand.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Were you examined by anyone?”
“Hardly, My Lady. I had a war to fight.”
“But you said the Chessori were dead.”
“They were dead at my armory, but the battle for Aldebaran I had barely begun. There were lots of Chessori still fighting, and there were lots of rebels helping them. I cobbled some forces together and locked down armories all over the planet. In the process we disarmed quite a few rebel forces and convinced Terran forces to secure marine headquarters. It was a huge effort by the Terrans, and it saved a lot of marines who probably would have been massacred had the Chessori not been stopped.”
“So you came away the hero, but I’m curious about something. You said you were the only one in your unit to survive the Chessori attack on your armory. That raises a red flag for me.”
Havlock shifted his eyes away from her, though she could not see it. “It raised red flags for a lot of people, My Lady,” he answered softly, “not least of all me. There was an inquiry.”
“I would imagine there was. It probably focused on how only you, out of all your men, survived.”
Havlock nodded, his lips compressed into a thin line. “It did, My Lady. It was pure luck that I’m alive today.”
“Luck might have had nothing to do with it.”
“I think it did. I was deep inside the armory when the Chessori struck, and that’s probably what saved me. The Terrans killed the Chessori before they had a chance to fully search the facility. The issue was not why I lived, it was why I was where I was when the Chessori struck. When I woke up, I found myself inside a locked shuttle that was in storage. I held regular inspections of the facility, of course, but never by myself, and an inspection was not scheduled that day. I have never successfully answered the question of why I was inside that shuttle, even to myself. I’ve been subject to every known form of probing in an effort to answer a charge of cowardice.”
Everyone in the room straightened up at that revelation.
“Every known form of probing? Have you been Tested?” Krys asked.
“Tested! By the Queen? Hardly, My Lady. I’ve never even met her.”
“Hmm. So . . . you were hiding.”
“I agree it looks that way, but hiding from what? I had no knowledge of the upcoming battles. I had nothing to hide from. As I told the board of inquiry, I just felt like I needed to walk through the armory.”
“Felt?”
Havlock started squirming, suddenly uncomfortable. He said nothing as a long silence fell on the room.
“Governor,” Krys reminded him, speaking softly, “you are bound by oath to answer the questions of a Knight. I am not asking out of idle curiosity.”
“Your questioning is raising doubts among people who daily put their lives in my hands, doubts that were put to rest long ago by a detailed inquiry. A day does not go by that I don’t question myself, but that’s personal.”
Hawke spoke up. “Sir, everyone knows. We’re still behind you.”
Havlock nodded grimly, but Hawke’s statement changed nothing. “I’m sorry, My Lady, but the stakes are very high. Before proceeding, I must ask for proof that you’re who you say you are.”
The air in the room suddenly chilled. Into that chill Krys said, “You do, indeed, have the right. I do not have my credentials with me. Tarn?”
“No, Krys. I can get one from your quarters.”
She lifted her head toward Stven but did not have to ask the question. The dragon raised up on his hind legs and rustled through a pouch that was part of his armored belly. He brought forth a Pin, lowered himself back to the floor, then held the Pin out to Havlock.
Havlock had never seen a Knight’s Pin, but as an Empire officer he knew the drill. He reached for the Pin, but Stven closed his hand and retracted it, lifting his eyes to the five from Tranxte.
“Knight’s Pins have, for aeons, been accepted as absolute proof everywhere in our Empire of a Knight’s authenticity. If you’re looking for an example of real magic, look no further. Knight’s Pins can only be empowered by a Chosen, and that power ceases to exist if either the recipient or the Chosen who activated it dies.”
He reached out again and presented the Pin to Havlock. Havlock took the Pin and attempted to open it, but he could not. He handed the Pin back to Stven.
The dragon’s hand closed deftly around the Pin, then he presented it to Atiana. “Will you open the Pin, please, Your Majesty?”
She took the Pin and examined it. “It’s beautiful, Sire.” She tried to open it, but she failed as well.
“Pass it around,” Stven suggested. “There can be no doubts among you.”
Milae was the last to try. She stepped over to the dragon, her intention to return the Pin, but instead of taking the Pin from her, Stven passed his hand over it while it lay in her palm. The Pin sprang open instantly, and a holographic image of the Queen poured forth into the room.
Milae stared in fright at the image, but that look of fright soon changed to one of wonder.
Atiana stood up and stepped closer. “She’s beautiful. Who is she?” she asked.
“She’s our Queen.”
“She looks to be no older than me,” Atiana said in amazement.
Stven nodded, the scales on his neck rippling in the light. “She’s older than everyone in this room,” he said. “Longevity is but one of the Traits of her line.” He closed his fist on the Pin and the light extinguished. He swung his head toward Havlock. “Would you like me to ask the question again?”
“No, Sire. Thank you.” Havlock turned toward Lady Krys. He closed his eyes to relive that day in his mind, then said, “All that day I felt a recurring urge to go into the armory. I can’t explain it any better than that, and believe me when I say I have tried. The urge finally became so strong that it became a compulsion. I gave in and went deep into the armory. I was there for an hour or so, then the
scree
struck.”
“I would imagine the probes you spoke of examined that compulsion quite thoroughly.”
“The experts can’t explain it, but they’ve cleared me for unrestricted duty.”
“Hmm. Would some of those experts, and possibly the entire board of inquiry, be dead now had you not protected their headquarters from the Chessori?”
“Yes.”
“Hence your discomfort with the whole idea. Perhaps I can shed some light on it,” she said. Her blind gaze moved around the room, taking in everyone. Her eyes seemed brighter to Havlock than they had been, but it might have been his imagination.
“This crew has seen a lot of action since the beginning of the Rebellion,” she began. “In truth, we’ve been the main source of intelligence for the Queen. You’ll be here for a while, so there’s plenty of time to hear our story, and you’ll have the opportunity to start yours all over again, Governor.”
“My Lady? We can’t stay. We’re needed down below.”
“You’re not needed there as much as you’re needed here.” Her blind eyes tried their best to bore into his. “Remember Sir Stven’s admonition to consider problems in their fullest?”
“I do.”
“Your problem just became a little fuller.” She leaned back into Tarn’s hands for a moment, then sat up straight again. “I’m sure you’ve heard the ancient tales about Seers?”
Havlock’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. The discussion had moved completely off subject. “My Lady?”
She turned her head toward Atiana. “Seers are creatures . . . well, I hope they’re people . . . of legend. They purportedly saw into the future and could forecast events yet to come. You might have similar legends among your own people, Your Majesty.”
“We have tales,” Atiana answered guardedly.
Krys nodded. “Here, we’ve treated them as legends, meaning they might have been true, though within living memory there have been no Seers . . . until me.”
Havlock leaned forward and started to ask, “My Lady?” He caught himself, not wanting to sound like an idiot repeatedly, but she heard the catch in his voice.
“You heard me, Governor. I am a Seer. I receive visions of the future. Those visions come sporadically and I have no control over them, but each of them has proven to have a significant impact on our war efforts.” She turned her head to the side and spoke to Tarn. “Now that the Rebellion is essentially ended, I wonder if their focus was really the success of the Empire, not just the war?”