Hegemony (22 page)

Freya Tralk, captain
of the Hegemonic swift-ship
Ice Knife,
sat on the neon blue couch in a transit-hotel room, buried in the middle of Spin-Gravity Ring B of Yuro-IV's massive Orbital Anchorage Station. She idly sipped from a hot cup of kafae, and let her mind scan along the News List of the hotel's complimentary data feed. This room was the local system defense authorities' idea of a comfortable place for her to wait till they were ready to debrief her. It
was
rather comfortable at that, though she would have preferred her cramped quarters aboard
Ice Knife
. Still, there was no reason to turn down the hospitality. It was nice to be in her biosim avatar. It was even nicer to be getting back to the idea of the humanoid avatar as
her.
She had spent more time than was comfortable in the command neural net of her ship.

This room was made for humans, Freya thought, or for people who spent almost all of their time in humanoid avatars. There was a low-level wireless data feed that could control the room's climate and lighting, but there was a glossy physical control panel as well. The rest of the room was the same, set with items intended for guests who couldn't or didn't want to use a direct interface data feed.

For a moment she let herself replay, one more time, the events of the battle in the waypoint system. It was a futile train of thought, she knew, but that knowledge wasn't enough to stop her.

If the swift-ships had stayed close to the enemy, hadn't dropped back to a safer range? Could that have made the difference? Could she have saved the
Conquering Sun
from destruction? Probably not, she decided, wishing she was sure the thought wasn't just her guilt telling her that it wasn't her fault.

But no, the reasons for standing off to longer range
had
been valid. And even if she had stayed at closer range, the enemy ships could have fired a small salvo of interceptors in her direction easily enough. Just a couple of interceptors would have been enough to force her ships to evade and back off... and the enemy had carried interceptor firepower to spare. Trying to look at the situation as soberly as she could, Freya couldn't come up with a way that her being closer would have made a difference. And even if she was wrong, it didn't matter now. The battle was over, the
Conquering Sun
was dead, and this whole train of what-ifs was futile.

The chime of her clock roused her from her thoughts. It was time to head to the Orbital Anchorage's shuttle concourse; her flight to the surface, to a meeting with the local System Defense Fleet commander, was standing by. Freya managed a smile of faint amusement; the powers that be thought there was enough time for her to relax in on-station guest quarters, but now grudged the time an orbital elevator ride down to the planetary surface would take. Typical.

---

"
Acro-telestos-
Representative Irular," said Demi-Captain Freya Tralk, and bowed low.

"Rise,
Telestos
-Demi-Captain Tralk, please," answered
Acro-telestos
Lyonidos Irular, smiling with a warmth that only genuine friendship, or the decades of training and the perfect control of a top-of-the-line custom bio-avatar could produce. The
acro-telestos'
face was lovely in a way that threatened to steal Freya's breath. Every line, every feature of his face was literal art. The delicate symbols and traceries applied to his cheekbones perfectly emphasized vivid violet eyes; guided the onlooker's glance to the perfectly swept, delicate ears. Mouth and chin were likewise perfect; firm and elegant like a sculpture. Even among the high-end custom bio-avatars of the high aristokratai, Lyonidos Irular was stunning. The deep blue of his facial art and almost metallic gold of his skin were set off by the pearlescent silver of his robe, unadorned except for a single blue tracery of rank and lineage glyphs flowing down the front.

"Captain Tralk," the perfect voice went on, "I, and the authorities of this world, have indeed reviewed the grave information your ships have brought us."

The
acro-telestos
was himself a high authority, but not directly part of the Yuro government; she had given her report to an officer of the System Defense Fleet who reported to the
equeta
system archon, in direct charge of the entire Yuro system. But
acro-telestos
Irular was a representative of the Central Throne, a messenger and servant of the Hegemon. Freya's own service was to the Central Throne, through the Fleet, and the chance to report to an agent of the Central Throne was an extra reassurance.

"Rest assured, Captain, that we will not fail to take appropriate measures with regard to this information, nor fail to note the courage and cool thinking that was required to obtain it."

The
acro-telestos'
residence on Yuro IV was an estate of smoothly landscaped gardens and flowering orchards. Land was obviously cheap on Yuro IV, and labor too, if the
acro-telestos
could afford this estate. Or perhaps the man was even richer than his exalted rank suggested. A Yuro System Defense Fleet military aircar had brought her to this audience immediately after her debriefing at the Yuro System Defense Fleet Headquarters, and Freya had been in no condition to properly observe the grounds on the way in, but a quick lookup via her data link had shown her the enormous size of the estate. Now she could see the rolling hills and stands of blazing red flowering trees through the huge curved windows behind the
acro-telestos'
formal seat. The landscape was manicured and sculpted as far as the eye could see. It would be nice to take a stroll, she thought.

"In fact," Irular continued, in his smooth, perfect tones, "we have in mind a recognition of your skill and bravery, Captain."

"A recognition,
Acro-telestos
?" Freya felt gratitude and relief, but underneath a suspicion; the man's tones were too perfect, meant to convey, to
inflict
those feelings. "Sir, I was only doing my duty as an officer of the Fleet."

"Duty does not mitigate valor, Captain," said the
acro-telestos
. "Your performance was exceptional, in
exceptionally
severe circumstances.

"I have here," he went on, drawing out a data chip from his flowing silver garment, "a warrant granting you command of the Hegemonic warship
Horizon Warden
; she is docked at the Orbital Anchorage right now, awaiting her new captain."

Freya was aware of the yawning silence as the smooth tones of the
acro-telestos'
words faded. Through the curved sweep of glass, she could just make out the sounds of birds and waterfalls in the garden. Her mind whirled, but for what seemed like long minutes she could say nothing.

"Sir, uhm... that is, sir, I'm a serving officer of the Hegemonic Central Throne Fleet. I can't simply leave my command in the Fleet to take up a system defense fleet appointment." It must be a system defense fleet ship, Freya thought. Her query of this system's Fleet command headquarters had shown no Central Throne Fleet units currently in the system save for her truncated squadron of two swift-ships.

"But of course you can, my dear Captain. This is a perfectly proper order transferring you to detached exchange service with the illustrious Yuro System Defense Fleet. There are none, I think, who would look wrongly on your eagerness to accept a command six times the size of a little swift-ship. And you have more than proven that you are the sort of officer who deserves a command of greater magnitude."

Again Freya was silent, though now thoughts came quickly to her.
Horizon Warden
must be a guard-ship; the ship's name had already suggested it. Guard-ships were much bigger than a swift-ship, but slow, armed for the protection of escorted vessels, not for swift scouting or lighting attack runs. There were probably a few swift-ship captains in the Central Throne Fleet who might think that taking command of a system defense fleet guard-ship was a promotion, but for most, regardless of the added rank glyphs, it would be purgatory. For herself, she had no intention of leaving her little
Ice Knife
for a lumbering guard-ship, tied to whatever crawling cartel scow she might be assigned to escort. Now she must find a way of declining that would not be a slight.

"
Acro-telestos
, I am grateful, very grateful, for the honor implied in that datachip. But I'm a swift-ship commander, through and through; I think it would be best, for the Fleet, and for me, to stick to what I know best. I think I'll be able to serve the Hegemony best by staying a part of the Central Throne Fleet and returning to command of the
Ice Knife
."

It occurred to Freya that this refusal would likely mean that she would not be allowed to stay in command of the little two-ship squadron. The
Skyrunner
would probably be assigned somewhere separate from the
Ice Knife
. The loss of that command might be a minor blemish on her service record, but on the whole it was no detriment at all to think that she would soon be free of Demi-Captain Obin Meryl.

"Indeed," said the
acro-telestos.
"Well, you know best what if appropriate for a… swift-ship commander, I am sure. Indeed, not being a warship officer, I would not presume to argue with the expert opinion of one who had earned distinction at her post. However, it will be impossible for you to resume your command of the
Ice Knife
."

"Impossible?"

"I'm afraid that the
Ice Knife
has been assigned a new captain... an
aristokratai
officer on exchange service to the Central Throne Fleet from the Yuro System Defense Fleet. As you know, it's beneficial for both the Fleet and the system defense fleets to have some interchange. You will, of course, be entered into the list of detached service officers of the Central Throne Fleet here on Yuro IV while you await the inevitable eventual arrival of a Central Fleet ship." The
acro-telestos
' smile was perhaps a touch tinged with sadness; it could, at worst, be thousands of hours before
that
happened.

Somehow, the words did not shock Freya. She ought to be shocked, a part of her mind said. But it was a calm part of her mind, and anyway it did not intrude too far; the rest of her mind
saw
the words as they were said, like a data feed during battle, like threat  and vector plots in a VR display. It was suddenly a tactical problem; there was a threat bearing down, and somewhere there was a probable solution. Her mind raced with disciplined speed. This man, the
acro-telestos
, held her fate in his hand just now, and one way or another, he was an enemy, or was acting on behalf of an enemy. But perhaps he himself was not just yet an enemy. Her own patrons were too distant to have any quick effect on him here. There was a reason for all this, which she would have to ascertain. Something important. But that line of thought was for later. Now it was time to move out of the trap that had suddenly yawned open in front of her, or she would be powerless to act when the reason became clear.

"Sir. I find myself forced to apologize for my arrogance. Might I ask you to forget and forgive my previous statement?"

"Ah, so you find that you have some interest in the command of a guard-ship after all?"

"
Acro-telestos
, I will not pretend that I aspired to such a command, but I see quite a few advantages for myself and my career that would come from commanding a more substantial unit. And I would not forget your kindness in taking note of my actions and making this reward available."

"Indeed. Well, this datachip is up to date and quite ready. Your authentication codes will compete the warrant." A delicate hand reached out to hand her the chip with a courtly gesture.

Freya took the chip and slipped it into her own data unit on her wrist. A string of commands sent through the interface and it was done. She was no longer captain of the
Ice Knife
. That fact twisted something in her, but she accepted it. It was battle damage, and the battle was not over yet. She was now, on behalf of the Yuro System Defense Fleet, the Hegemony of Suns and Hegemon thereof, the captain of the guard-ship
Horizon Warden
.

Leaving the estate was a rapid-fire series of small events that did not fully impinge on Freya's mind: disconnected flashes of sounds and images as she tried to work out the "whys" of what had just happened, and what she would do next. The
acro-telestos
had been gracious, of course. He had just won a small measure of her loyalty with his patronage, and his warm farewell showed that he was keenly aware of it. He was wrong, of course, but there would be time for that later, if ever. There was a Yuro System Defense Fleet aircar waiting for her on the landing apron at the foot of the residence compound. A different vehicle than the one she had been brought here in; a little "skimmer," smaller, unarmed and of an older model, but very likely faster. Its driver, in a duty jumpsuit, was waiting by the open door, his face hidden by the shadow of his cap's brim. The sun was a brilliant ruby in the violet sky. Its reddish light, scattered blue through the atmosphere, played subtle tricks on her eyes. She did not recognize the driver till he returned her offhand salute.