Opening Moves Read online

  “No sir, of course not,” he nodded solemnly.

  “This facility has one purpose: ensuring the survival of our species,” he continued. “And the only method of survival will be through the Dominion's military. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You will therefore be part of the military while you work here. You will wear a uniform and be expected to obey military regulations and take part in the occasional training, as we all do.”

  “Understood, sir,” Corr'tane's voice was flat. It was beginning to dawn on him exactly what sort of responsibility would be placed on his shoulders. Despite the treasure trove of facilities at his fingertips, he would have to work to fulfill a strict set of expectations.

  “You will have the honorary title of Commander, but as soon as you settle in you will be expected to earn that rank like every other officer in the fleet,” the older officer continued. He carried an air of natural authority and command. “Your intelligence and past work got you in here, but to stay you have to prove yourself worthy of this opportunity. Every day is a test for you. You're going to have over a hundred staff working here, many of whom will answer directly to you. Understand that many of them have been scientists since before even your parents were born.”

  The mention of his parents sent a sharp flash through his memory: an image of his father leaving for duty on the Tuathaan border the morning after his and Pyshana's tenth name day, the happiest day of his memory. He had stood under their home's door frame wearing a plainer version of the same deep crimson tunic the lecturing officer wore. A week later their mother had tearfully told them that Father was dead, lost to a skirmish with Tuathaan raiders. Five years later they had stood in silence as their mother had been lowered into the rich soil of their simple family burial ground. All their connections to the heady days of childhood had been severed and buried with her.

  With a start he suddenly reminded himself to focus on the present and the high ranking officer.

  “Personally, I think you will do well here. Your first task will be to review the data of your predecessor, some simple biological formulas, nothing too much for your first day. I predict a very productive future for you here, Corr'tane. We're going to save our people together, starting right now.” He offered his hand out. “Welcome, Commander Corr'tane.”

  He reached out and solidly clasped the officer's forearm who returned the gesture with a hint of appreciation in his blue, cat-like eyes.

  He cracked a small grin. “Commander Tear'al will show you to your office. Good day.” Stepping back he acknowledged the naval intelligence operative's salute, then disappeared out of the room.

  Corr'tane released a deep exhalation and doubled over, his knees trembling.

  “Are you all right?” Tear'al rushed over and grabbed him, escorting the scientist-turned-officer to a chair.

  “I think I just need a moment's rest.” He sunk back into a surprisingly comfortable seat. “Gods, I've always been better with germs than with people,” he muttered sourly. “Please, tell me truthfully: did I make a complete fool of myself?”

  “No!” the intelligence officer chuckled. “Actually, I think the old man seemed quite taken with you.”

  “Really?” he frowned, sounding everything but convinced. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

  “If he'd have taken against you, you'd have known about it, trust me. He doesn't suffer fools and incompetents. I'd say he actually respects you.”

  Corr'tane smiled at that. “I guess he's the base commander then?”

  Tear'al barked a surprised laugh. “You didn't recognize him, boy? That was Strategos Kalla'shan, Head of the Eye of Satevis. As the man in charge of the organization running all our intelligence services, he's de facto second only to the High Strategos himself!”

  “Oh,” was all he could manage. He'd never met anyone even remotely as powerful before. For all their professional clout the people constituting the National Scientist Council had only been marginally important in general society. To meet a man who shaped the course of their civilization was a new experience, and he could feel his hands trembling again. To be actually favored and trusted by such a person was something even more disconcerting.

  Tear'al looked at him as if he knew exactly what went on in Corr'tane's head at that moment and gave him a jovial laugh. “See? Now you've got friends in high places. This is the rest of your life now. You're not just some lab tech in an academy working for people far less talented than you. Now you're the one in charge. Your talents have been recognized by the powers that be. You can make a difference.”

  “A difference?” he was still shaking. He felt as if the weight of the new situation was beginning to crush him. Suddenly all he wanted was just to go outside and get a breath of fresh air.

  “Of course! Your work will play a part in deciding if our race lives or dies. We already discussed this.”

  They had talked about it, true. But it was only now that it really truly began to settle on him, that he registered precisely how much was depending on his work here. The future of a species partially resting on the shoulders of a twenty-five year old biologist. How was that for pressure to perform? All that other young biologists needed to satisfy was to publish a paper once in a while!

  His stomach suddenly felt as if it had been crushed down to the size of an atom and his entire insides constricted with pain. He scrambled from the chair, pushed past Tear'al and collapsed in a corner, vomiting profusely.

  * * * * * * *

  His cold blue eyes wavered for a moment from Toklamakun. That less than dignified moment had been when he had grasped the enormity of what was needed for his people. His stomach hadn't truly settled for a week, but as his staff arrived he had felt renewed, filled with a new sense of purpose. The doubts and fantasies of his youth were gone.

  A few quick flashes in space caught his eye as a wing of fighters cleared up the debris field after the brief battle. In truth, it was a euphemism for shooting down OpFor life pods.

  The flashes vanished, and once again space was peaceful as the Dominion armada slowly settled into a geostationary orbit above the now defenseless planet below, uncontested and victorious.

  “The Makani army is a formidable force,” Corr'tane said conversationally. “Our landings will not be unopposed.”

  “We have the best armies in known space,” Tear'al replied predictably with a smug expression frozen on his features.

  He had changed a lot in the past decade. In Corr'tane's opinion the change had been for the worse. Tear'al just wasn't open to new ideas. He had subscribed to his blinkered belief in Ashani superiority over all things. A bad stance to take for a former intelligence officer.

  On the surface it even seemed he was right. The Dominion's military was unmatched in size and prowess by all except the Rasenni Royal Navy, and even then it was generally acknowledged that Ashani personnel were better trained. However, as Kalla'shan's replacement he should have been planning for any flaws in the Dominion's war machine. Immediately assuming it would conquer all, that's how disasters happened. And the Ashani simply could not afford a failure of intelligence in the coming war.

  The fleet had finished redeploying, moving into a blockade of the planet and forming a protective cordon around the cruisers that were moving into position in high orbit. The asteroids these ships towed behind them, aided by dozens of maneuvering thrusters latched onto the rocks themselves, easily dwarfed the powerful warships. They were useless against other warships unless the enemy was blind, deaf, and stupid. In military terms they had precisely one use: orbital bombardment. All one needed to find was the right angle. Gravity did the rest.

  It was an intimidating sight, but Corr'tane shook his head. Dead, the Makani were no good to him. “What a pointless waste,” he muttered.

  “Quite the contrary! This whole escapade is a reason unto itself,” Tear'al pointed out. “There's nothing down there we want. I mean, look at it for a minute!”
/>   Corr'tane did have to admit it was an unappealing target: no easily exploitable heavy metals for warships, no major agricultural areas for food exports. Toklamakun didn't even have any stunning vistas for tourists. It was physically worthless, yet the Makani had died for it. Because it was their home world.

  “This invasion is a test,” his comrade continued. “A dry run for our war with the Pact. Look at our fleet. We could have taken this world with a quarter of these numbers, hells, maybe even a tenth of them. But our new fleet-wide command nodes needed the stress test. We had to work out the problems and concerns in this live fire exercise before we attacked a real enemy, like the Tuathaan. All of this here?” he pointed at the images on the bridge's screens and in the holotank. “This is a war game, Corr'tane. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “I'm sure the Makani wouldn't appreciate being considered mere targets,” he smiled thinly.

  “And since when do we care?” Tear'al replied haughtily. “It doesn't matter if the bombardment has little effect. The point is to test our targeting scanners and establish a good routine for our crews. When the time comes they will be ready.”

  As if it was rehearsed the first charged asteroid tumbled into Toklamakun's atmosphere.

  Corr'tane watched, fixated on the gradually shrinking orb and its course of destruction. He imagined every other pair of eyes in the fleet was also watching that same object at the same time, scrutinizing its path or preparing to ascertain its damage pattern, or perhaps just appreciating its burning glow as the friction of the planet's atmosphere heated one side of the solid rock to several thousand degrees. The targeting scanners noted the point of impact: the planet's main space port. A few missiles and focused laser beams rose to meet it, but with no effect. The asteroid's heavy iron core remained mostly intact, burying itself into the ground with the force of an angry god. It was a spectacular demonstration of destruction. As the fleet's sensors finalized gathering the impact's preliminary data, the rest of the asteroid's descended through Toklamakun's atmosphere in the most efficient pattern for causing a global apocalypse.

  “I hear the High Strategos is saving your own research for the war itself, so not to tip off our enemies?”

  Corr'tane nodded. He was anxious to see the fruition of his long work in the fields of bio-weapons, but acknowledged they would best be reserved as a surprise for the Pact. “All in good time.” His eyes sparkled with the expanding red plumes of the bombardment. To witness such power was exhilarating. The Ashani had come a long way, and this would ensure they would continue growing forever.

  “Alas, we've got an audience. There are some Érenni ships on the system's edge,” Tear'al said.

  Corr'tane shot him a hard look. “Were they dealt with?”

  “Of course not. Let them watch this and spread fear in their people,” he grinned smugly.

  “You complete idiot!” Corr'tane snarled. “If they get a good sensor sweep of this level of devastation and of the sheer number of ships we're fielding it'll betray our intentions! You don't build a fleet like this unless you plan to use it!”

  “They will assume we are just being cautious of the Rasenni. The Pact's members are cowards who would rather prefer to bury their heads in the sand than consider the truth. They believed our story about the Aetu. They'll believe this, too.”

  “This could jeopardize everything we've worked for!” he shot back. Hells, how could a former intelligence officer be so stupidly careless?! He hammered a button on a nearby communications' panel. “Flag to covering force. Are you in range of the Érenni vessels?”

  The answer came promptly. “Yes, Strategos. We are under orders to monitor them and…”

  “Those orders are canceled. You will move to destroy them at once!”

  “Yes, Strategos. Executing now,” came the curt response, and an instant later the tactical display shifted as the vessels turned to deal with the unwanted audience. Before they even had a chance to bring their main batteries to bear, the Érenni ships vanished from the plot, the holographic visualization noting the tachyon impulse typical for a transition into the fold.

  “Nothing will change. It'll just make the Pact more fearful,” Tear'al said, but not as confidently as earlier.

  “For your own sake I hope you're right.” Corr'tane's voice was flat and cold. “Because if you are wrong every member of the Ashani race who needlessly dies in this war will be your fault, and I will take that very personally. Do you understand what that means?”

  “Yes.” Tear'al's voice carried a trace of uncertainty. He had heard rumors about a captain who had lost his ship to a Tuathaan raid through sheer incompetence. The man hadn't even finished his report to Strategos Corr'tane before he was arrested and taken to his labs. No one had ever seen him again. “This will go as predicted.”

  “Get out of my sight,” the younger man coolly commanded, then turned to look at space with its infinite darkness and infinite cold.

  Tear'al had been in the military longer and held equal rank to Corr'tane, but there was no question as to which one held the power in this room. His intelligence had made him the youngest strategos in history, and his ruthlessness ensured it was a well-deserved title. He would be spearheading the assault on the Tuathaan and he relished the opportunity, the image of his father imprinted on his mind as a child. They were going to pay for that. He was going to make damn sure of it.

  The timer was set. Only two more months. Then he would have his vengeance, and his people would have the chance to live forever.

  Tanith, Independent Star System, Pact of Ten Suns.

  March 2796 C.E.

  The falling rain echoed on the glass roof. Mairwen took a brief moment to savor it. Her home was replete with water and it frequently rained, so much so it was merely another part of the day. But on worlds alien to her people, rain like this was rarer and often seen as troublesome, a mixed blessing. For Mairwen it was a reminder of home and gave her a sudden bout of homesickness. She didn't want to be here, in this empty and cold chamber. Breathing heavily through the spiracles on her forehead, her flat face turned into a grimace. The air in here was too dry. She wanted to be on her grounds back on Akvô, enjoying the humidity and the soft breeze over her home world's endless beaches. In fact, she would have settled for just standing outside here for a while, the transparent, water-repellent lids closed over the two large black eyes that sat high in her skull. But the meeting was about to start, such as it was.

  A week ago Toklamakun had fallen to an Ashani surprise attack and the news had shocked Mairwen's people, the neighboring Érenni. They had immediately called a meeting of the Pact to gather once more on neutral ground not owned by any of the league's larger members. When such diverse species gathered it was best to limit any reason for undue tensions before they even had a chance to surface.

  Tanith was such neutral ground. Called the Golden Pearl by her people, Mairwen had journeyed here on the fastest diplomatic courier ship the Érenni Republics owned.

  The Érenni were a peaceful, mercantile and freedom-loving people. Organized first in matriarchal clans, later in female dominated nations, and finally in their current form of a loose confederation of colonial republics they had no martial tradition comparable to many of the other sentient races. And quite frankly, there hadn't been much of a need for one. Érenni, as far as generalizations about a whole race were possible, preferred to deal with problems either around conference tables or through subterfuge and covert actions, not open warfare. And now they found themselves sharing a border with a power like the Dominion. To Mairwen that made it all the more urgent to discuss the matter and take action to prevent further Ashani aggression.

  And yet, despite plenty of time to assemble and the apparent seriousness of the situation, precisely three people had arrived at the consulate on Tanith. Aside from herself there were only Gwythyr of the Tuathaan Clanholds and Serrok Kun of the Komerco. Nobody else had bothered to even send a junior representative. She did not feel anger, not really. The
feeling threatening to send cramps all through her two stomachs was one of deep, despairing disappointment. She couldn't remember having ever felt something as strongly before.

  Nevertheless she had a job to do and began the meeting. “Thank you for joining me today, honored representatives. I trust by now you have all read the reports from our scouting forces.” Her three-fingered hand held aloft a rounded tablet listing the events at Toklamakun. “It proves that the invasion of Aeta was not an isolated incident and that the Ashani are beginning an aggressive war of conquest.”

  “With all due respect, madam: that is a matter of pure speculation,” Serrok stated flatly. “I have studied your report. I have also studied the statements of the Dominion. And while the individual circumstances surrounding the events at Toklamakun and Aeta may be regrettable, they are not exactly uncommon occurrences in these times. Or any other times, for that matter. Quite frankly, we have no evidence that the Ashani will continue to attack other worlds, let alone our or your worlds.” Serrok's face was a leathery-gray, pockmarked field of craters, the genetic result of generations of horrible runaway environmental pollution his people had unleashed on their home world. He didn't have any eyebrows. If he had, he would have raised one inquiringly with his statement.

  “You said that five months ago. We had this very same discussion after Aeta fell, and now they have taken Toklamakun,” Mairwen recounted in a firm voice. “By the time we have our next meeting they could be orbiting this world with bombardment ships ready to strike!”

  “It won't come to that, and I do suspect you do actually know that yourself,” Serrok said in a crisp, precise tone. “The Dominion's armed forces have invaded two single-system entities in half a year. These are the facts. Now, I can forgive the Érenni Republics for being a little nervous. These worlds were close to your borders, less than fifty light-years away. Now you share your own frontier with the Ashani. That may be an uncomfortable thought, true. But if the Dominion has been able to share a border with the Tuathaan for decades without there being a major war, what makes you think they will attack you? At least the Tuathaan give them ample reason to be belligerent,” he added coolly with a glance to Gwythyr.