The Sword and the Plough (29 page)

It seemed an age. Finally, the queen spoke.
“I wonder?”

Lars looked up. The warrior light shone again
in her eyes.

She stared at Lars, but he was aware her
thoughts were focused on some distant place.

“It might just work,” the queen said quietly.
“Perhaps Ferdinand, for all his cunning, has overlooked something
after all.”

The dark brows dipped in a puzzled frown.
“There was once an ancient book that many put great store in.” She
was nodding to herself as she spoke. “It spoke of ploughs being
turned into swords. Swords and ploughs…” She closed her eyes
briefly and then shook her head. “No, I can’t remember.”

The queen paused and looked steadily at one,
then the other.

“We do not want war,” she began in a low
voice. “Is it not the antithesis of all that humankind claims to
admire and strives to achieve? You will see no joy in us when our
armada sets out across the heavens to battle Ferdinand.

“
We would it were that history had provided
an alternative example for us to follow. But Ferdinand, like some
wild and brutish beast, has stalked us to our door and will slay us
if we do not turn and fight. But worse, far worse, he will undo all
the good that has been built up over centuries; the human
civilisation, that after ten thousand years in the agonies of
growing, is about to bloom…”

The queen’s voice, which had risen again in
its feeling, now dropped away almost to a whisper.

“No, we cannot allow him to destroy all
that,” she continued. “We have no choice. We must fight fire with
fire. It is our duty to our people, past, present and future; our
duty to all that is good.”

The queen looked over at the young man,
anguish welling in her eyes.

“
You have done well, Lars, well indeed,”
she said gently. “And you too, my brave cousin…” She reached out
and took Caroline’s hands in hers. “Brave, like your mother –
resolute…” She smiled, but the pain still showed in the hazel eyes.
“Thank you! Thank you, both. You have risked much for our
sake.”

The queen stood suddenly, a pillar of gold
silk. Lars and Caroline rose swiftly to their feet and stood
awaiting the queen’s next words. Her Majesty made as if to dismiss
them.

“Your Majesty?” Lars felt his voice waver on
the edge of being tremulous. In his boldness, he had begun to
sweat.

The queen turned, her brows raised in
surprise that he had spoken.

“Yes Lars?”

“
I would like to return to Trion – to
Vegar, Your Majesty.”

The hazel eyes looked deeply into his.

“You have already suffered beyond your duty,
Lars,” the queen replied gently. “There is no need for you to
return until our Commonwealth is safe once more.”

“My sister, Helen, is still a prisoner in
Vegar, Your Majesty,” Lars reminded the queen. “I must do what I
can to see her safe.”

The queen gave a nod. “Of course, we
understand. Very well, we are sure the military will be glad of
your local knowledge.”

“
And I’ll be going back with him, Your
Majesty,” Caroline’s voice added firmly. “There’s no question about
it,” she continued before the queen or Lars could speak. “I may
have been born and educated here on Earth, but Trion is my home,
and I need to go back and finish what I started… What
you
and I started,” she
amended, glancing across at Lars. “And we have a few old scores to
settle there as well.”

“Caroline,” Lars protested. “It’s far too
dangerous…”

“Don’t try and stop me, Lars.” Caroline
replied bluntly. She gave a curt laugh. “Do you think I’d be in any
less danger here, on Earth?” She shook her head. “There are no safe
places now. Anywhere and everywhere will be the battlefield.
Ferdinand threatens us in every corner of the Commonwealth, and if
I have to fight, I want to fight on my home ground.

“Besides,” she added brightly. “Someone has
to keep an eye on you.”

“But anything could happen,” Lars
persisted.

“Yes Lars, that’s right,” Caroline agreed
with a sad smile.

“Anything could happen. And if it does, I
want to be at home on Trion.”

Lars turned to the queen, the look of
entreaty plain on his face.

The queen raised her hands in a motion of
helplessness.

“No one has ever been able to change her
mind, Lars. Much as we might wish to, we cannot order her to stay,
just as we cannot order you…”

The queen stood looking at them for a spell,
her eyes full of feeling. Then she bowed her head and extended her
hands out wide, as if in a blessing.

“Both of you will be ever present in our
thoughts in the days to come,” she said softly.

“Wait up, Cheryl.”

Captain Johan De Vries stepped out of the
dark doorway into the black night of pouring rain and fell into
step beside the young woman. He reached out and turned up the
collar of her red great coat against the rain, and then repeated
the action for his own.

The rain beat down upon their comb morion
helmets and spilled in thin silver curtains from the glistening
curved brims. Their tall boots shattered the black sheen of the
swift forming pools and puddles.

“Nice night to be out walking,” the captain
remarked ironically.

Lieutenant Cheryl York twisted her head up to
glance briefly at the bleak sky. The heavy rain spattered her face
so that she blinked and had to wipe the wet from her eyes.

“
Yes,” she muttered. “And the forecast is
for more of the same tomorrow. But I guess we’ve got to expect it
at this time of year. It is winter after all.”

Her companion nodded. “So, when were you
going to tell me?” he asked abruptly.

“Tell you what?” the lieutenant responded.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Why you’re out in the pouring rain for a
start, head down, going somewhere in a hurry.”

“Oh nothing really, just some administrative
thing over at the admiralty I have to attend to. It won’t take me
long.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you for a coffee
later, if you’d like.”

The young captain frowned. “You wouldn’t be
trying to put me off, would you?” he asked.

Cheryl York stopped in her stride and turned
to look at him, her eyes wide in apparent innocence.

“No, of course not,” she replied. “Don’t be
silly. It’s nothing really, it’s just…”

“
Operation
Catch a Tiger
,” the young
man drawled quietly.

The young woman’s gaze narrowed sharply.
“Captain De Vries, you knew all the time,” she said indignantly.
“You’ve been leading me on.”

He grinned. “Oh, my poor darling,” he
murmured. “Don’t you realise the grapevine extends to more than
just your sweet ears? I volunteered to go about five minutes after
you.”

The young woman’s look softened. “You don’t
have to go, Johnny,” she said softly.

“Yes I do,” he replied promptly. “With Megran
in revolt and Ferdinand about to declare war, our queen has asked
for specialist volunteers to launch a counter attack against the
Megran rebels in the colony planets.” He grinned. “And you know how
hard it is for me to resist the call to volunteer.”

The young woman scowled. “Johnny, be
serious.” She reached out and gripped his arm. “I have to go
because it’s clear now that my father’s mixed up in this thing… in
Ferdinand’s rebellion.” She shrugged. “It’s just something I have
to do.”

“Family honour, eh?”

The lieutenant nodded. “If you like,” she
replied. “But it’s my problem. You don’t have to go.”

“Do you think I could let you go off like
that without me?” The young man asked. “Besides, we’re all going to
be in it sooner or later, from what they say.”

“
But Johnny, this way is dangerous. We’ll
be on our own, going in under cover –
spies
. And if we’re
caught…”

Despite the rain, the young man reached out
and coaxed her tenderly into the warm circle of his arms. “Yes, it
is dangerous,” he murmured. He tried to kiss her, but their helmet
brims clashed. He tucked his silver comb morion under his arm and
kissed her lightly on the lips. The rain teemed down on his head.
“And that’s why I’m coming,” he said. “I’m not letting you face
that threat alone.” He kissed her again, this time more
passionately.

“
Now to business!” He returned the silver
helmet to his head and wiped the wet from his face. “We have to go
meet the Lady Caroline and some fellow she’s brought with her from
Trion, some out-worlder, Lars somebody or other.” He gave a flat
laugh. “Apparently, the farm boy’s designed a weapon out of a
plough for us to fight with. Amazingly, with a few modifications,
the damn thing works.” He shrugged. “After all our years of
military training, we go off to fight alongside an out-worlder with
a plough.”

“Out-worlder? I wonder if you should call him
that?”

Captain De Vries grinned. “Well whatever,
I’m sure he’s probably a decent enough fellow. Anyway, we’re off to
help him start a war on Trion.”

He took her arm. “Come on, let’s hurry and
get out of this rain before we get soaked.”

* * *

O
n the same night, but 200 kilometres above the clouds that
brought the rain, a small space-going vessel slipped her mooring
from beneath Her Majesty’s cruiser
Defiant
. The little ship gave a brief burst on
her micro-thrusters, then drifted a hundred metres or so astern of
the royal fleet before firing her photon engines. A few minutes
later, she had disappeared into the dark void of space.

If her pilot thought he had made it away
undetected, he was mistaken. Her Majesty, herself, had been
informed the very moment the
Stellar Gypsy
released her anchor magnets.
And, as the little ship vanished into the vastness, the queen was
observed to look up and whisper ‘thank you’ to the dark winter
sky.

* * *

“
Steady as she goes, helmsman
– steady.”

Commander John Riddick sat forward in his
black leather bridge chair and studied the
proximity
navigator
screen as the
Megran battleship eased into position behind a mountain-sized chunk
of slowly rotating, dark reddish rock. Above them, below them, in
every direction as far as they eye could see, stretched a desert of
sparsely spaced burgundy coloured rocks of all sizes – asteroids,
the
Jupiter Trojans
, perhaps the debris of some time forgotten planet that had
known the universe before Earth’s first dawn.

“Stop engines!”

Commander Riddick sat back in his chair with
a sigh. “Well done, helmsman. Now let’s see if the rest of our
fleet can do as well.”

He studied the battleship’s reverse screen
as the six Megran cruisers and seven corvettes came into position
astern of the battleship, chips of battle grey on a shore of red.
Small scout vessels flittered about between the bigger ships like
impudent sparrows.

“Good! Right Number One, get those sensor
deflectors up. Let’s go to ground.”

“Yes sir, deflectors up now.”

First Officer Lipinski grinned. “Cat and
mouse, eh sir? I’ve been looking forward to this. Now we’ll show
them what we can do.”

Commander Riddick gave a curt nod. “Yes,
well let’s hope you’re right. He switched open the ship-to-ship
channels. “Attention all captains and crews, this is Commander
Riddick.” He paused to allow time for the various ships complements
to assemble. “I know that by now it’s no mystery to any of you as
to why we’re here, or what our business is. Therefore, it only
requires me to fill in the details of what our part in
Operation Valkyrie
will
be.”

Again, he paused, so that the impact of what
he had to say would be the greater.

He gazed out of the transparent dome of the
battleship’s bridge at the sprinkling of asteroids that surrounded
them on every horizon. Perhaps some great civilisation had once
lived here when the rocks had been a planet, only to die in a
cataclysmic destruction outside their control.

When he thought about it, did what he had to
say really matter? Did any of it matter?

But he had his duty. That he held fast. It
was everything he was.

“
We are now in Earth’s solar system,
Earth’s territory,” he began solemnly, “astride her chief space
lanes and wormholes.”

He took a breath and kept his gaze stern.

“
We are the front line – the front line of
what will be the greatest armada in the history of human
civilisation.” He paused and counted slowly to five in his head.
“It is our task to bring havoc to the enemy, disrupt their
defences, and pave the way for the waves of our comrades who will
follow.” He paused again and counted once more in his head. “Be
proud for you are the vanguard of this great undertaking. Be proud,
because you are Megran’s best…” The commander relaxed his gaze to
take on an encouraging look. “We await Prince Ferdinand’s order for
Operation Valkyrie to begin.”

Back on Trion
•
Hakim
•
HMS ‘Daring’

Lars shaded his eyes against the early
morning light of Trion’s twin suns and gazed out at the endless
plain of black lava rock. Here and there, an odd hillock stood
above the plain, an ancient wave of lava that had suddenly cooled
as it flowed. He was home again.