“I assume this is something important,” Victor said.
“I wouldn’t send my best if it wasn’t,” Holace Quill said. “I wish I could give you two some time to relax after the victory you pulled off. However, I’m afraid that will have to wait.”
Victor nodded. “The Lysandrans.”
“Yes,” Holace Quill said. “While the Alliance has been busy fighting the Mohawkers, the Lysandrans have been building up their forces. They’re going to attack. It’s only a question of when and where.”
“So what’s the job?” Victor asked.
Holace nodded to his son. “I’m sending Harlan and his task force to scout the unclaimed systems between the Free World and Lysandran space. I want you and your ship to be a part of that.”
Victor nodded. “What are we looking for?”
“Forward bases, scout ships, anything that will indicate where they plan on attacking,” Holace said.
“And then run back to warn the fleet,” Victor said.
Holace nodded. “Yes.”
“I won’t say no to another job. And Captain Quill and I do work well together.” Victor looked to Harlan. “Don’t you agree, Captain?”
Harlan smiled and nodded. “I certainly do. And having Captain Blackhand himself will improve the morale of my crews.”
“Do you have a plan of action yet?” Victor asked.
“I was waiting for you to agree to the mission before I did any real planning. The Lysandrans can take a lot of potential routes to the Free Worlds. Since you know them better than anyone else I know, you probably can make a good guess as to which systems they are likely to move through,” Harlan said.
“Where’s your nearest star map?” Victor asked.
“The war room should do. Harlan knows the way,” Holace Quill said.
Harlan smirked. “I think we’ve just been dismissed. Follow me, and we can plan how to keep the Lysandrans from taking us by surprise.”
***
Two hours later, Victor and Harlan stood in the domed war room of the
Gryphon
, staring up at the holographic projection of the star map filling the air above them.
The sight of the star map reminded Victor of the similar, but far more magnificent, map of the galaxy he had seen in the Stone years ago.
“We have a lot of space to cover,” Harlan said.
Victor nodded. A Lysandran invasion fleet could pass through dozens of unclaimed systems on their way to the Free Worlds. It would be impossible to cover them all with the twenty ships of Harlan’s task force. Good thing they wouldn’t have to.
Victor highlighted six separate systems. “The jump network is pretty tangled in this part of space. That means any fleet has to pass through at least one of these systems. Put a couple frigates in each of them, and you’ll have eyes on every way the Lysandrans can try to sneak into the Free Worlds.”
“Where do you want my cruisers?” asked Harlan.
“The Tenor 21 system,” Victor said, highlighting a system almost at the center of the web. “Here your cruisers will be no more than two jumps away from any of the systems the Lysandrans will have to jump through. And it’s only three jumps to Mustang from there.”
Harlan nodded. “That should do.” He turned to Victor. “I assume you’ll want the
Alexander
to be one of the scouting frigates?”
Victor nodded and highlighted the system he wanted to watch. “DB 432. An unremarkable system, except that it’s the closest one to Lysandran space. And the one my gut tells me that they’re most likely to pass through.”
“You’re making sure you’re the one who spots the Lysandrans first,” Harlan said.
“Helps justify all the money your father pays me,” Victor said.
“Well, I think we have a plan then. I just hope the Lysandrans hurry up. I don’t want to be loitering out in space for too long,” Harlan said.
“I doubt it will be more than a month. They can’t keep their fleet mobilized for much longer. They can’t afford to,” Victor said.
“Ah, good. So they either attack or stand down. No gray areas,” Harlan said.
“Either they attack soon or not at all,” Victor said. “So we shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Good. I prefer to surprise than be surprised,” Harlan said.
“Me too,” Victor said, then he looked to Harlan. “And if the Alliance can score a big win, then the Lysandrans should fold pretty quickly. They just can’t afford to fight a long war of attrition.”
Harlan nodded. “I prefer my wars short. But the Alliance will need a fair amount of lead time in order to effectively counter an invasion.”
Victor studied the star map. “Perhaps if your cruisers carried some mines? Drop them around an important jump point, and any invasion fleet will have to slow down to clear them out.”
“
Hrmm
. Could work, though that would require my cruisers to trade in most of their missiles,” Harlan said.
“Would that be a problem for this mission though?” Victor asked. “We plan on running as soon as we see the Lysandran invasion fleet, not standing and fighting.”
“True,” Harlan said. “All right, I’ll begin loading up my cruisers with mines.”
“Good,” Victor said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Captain, there’s someone in the med bay I need to see.”
***
The
Gryphon
’s med bay was one of the largest Victor had ever seen on a starship. Occupying two levels in the heart of the battleship, it had none of the decorative livery found in the high councilor’s private area, just the sterile white walls and antiseptic smell of a hospital.
It was big enough to afford patients their own rooms, if they were important enough.
Victor followed one of the ship’s doctors, Dr. Chen, a short black-haired woman, to Gaz’s room, as she brought Victor up to speed on Gaz’s condition. “He’s made weeks of progress in just two days,” she concluded.
“So how long before Gaz can get back on duty?” Victor asked.
“It’s…a bit hard to tell, Captain Blackhand,” Chen said.
“How so?” he asked.
Chen stopped at the closed door leading to Gaz’s room and turned to Victor. “We’ve never encountered healing augmentations quite like Gaz’s. As such, we don’t really know the limits of his healing ability. For all I know, if given enough time, he’ll heal all his injuries on his own.”
“I was told he’d be healed in a couple months,” Victor said.
“That’s the conservative estimate,” Chen said.
The door opened, and a nervous-looking male physician’s assistant came out and blinked with surprise at the sight of Victor.
Chen addressed him. “Lieutenant?”
The man looked to the doctor. “Dr. Chen. I, ah,…I changed the patient’s bandages just as ordered. The wounds are healing as expected.”
“Good, Lieutenant. Is he conscious?”
The PA nodded quickly. “Yes, Doctor.” He then scampered off like a frightened rabbit.
“What was that about?” Victor asked.
“Well, to tell the truth, the staff find Gaz to be a bit frightening,” Chen said.
“With the teeth and tattoos, I can understand,” Victor said.
“Yes. That and his personality,” Chen said.
“He isn’t that bad,” Victor said.
Chen grimaced. “Maybe not, but he still scares people who aren’t used to him.”
“And what about you, Doctor? Does he scare you?” Victor asked.
“Yes,” Dr. Chen said. “Though mostly because, if everyone could heal like him, I’d be out of a job.”
Victor chuckled. “I can certainly understand that.” He nodded at the door. “May I?”
“Of course, Captain, be my guest,” Dr. Chen said.
Victor pushed open the door into the small room.
Gaz sat up. “Hey, Cap!”
“Lay back down. You still have holes in your organs,” Dr. Chen said.
“Ruinin’ my fun, Doc,” Gaz said as he settled back down.
The amount of equipment in the room was surprisingly sparse, considering the severity of Gaz’s injuries—just a monitoring device reading Gaz’s vitals and an IV bag full of opaque white fluid which flowed through a narrow tube into Gaz’s arm.
“What’s in the bag?” Victor asked.
“It’s a concentrated nutrient solution I cooked up just for him,” Dr. Chen said. “We’re pretty much sitting back and letting Gaz heal himself.” She pointed at the bag. “This will just give him the building blocks he needs to regrow damaged tissue.”
“Food would work just as well, Doc,” Gaz said.
Chen shook her head. “You’d just rip the stitches in your stomach.”
“Listen to Dr. Chen, Gaz. I need you healed as soon as possible,” Victor said.
“You got it, Cap,” Gaz said. He looked to Chen. “Can we get some privacy, Doc? I’ve got some things to talk to the captain about.”
“Of course.” She looked to Victor and said, “Captain,” and then left.
Victor looked at Gaz. “You seem to have settled in well.”
“Tell the truth, I’m startin’ to go crazy,” Gaz said. “Kinda reminds me of my days as a fightin’ slave.”
“Not good memories, I take it,” Victor said.
Gaz grimaced and shook his head. “Nope. Fact is, this ain’t the most fucked up I’ve ever been. Though this is the first time I’ve needed a doc since I stopped being a slave.”
“That’s quite a claim, considering you’ve been a mercenary for thirty years,” Victor said.
“I get to wear armor as a merc. Wasn’t so as a fightin’ slave,” said Gaz. “They liked to see people bleed on Mohawk.”
“You had a lot of tough fights?” Victor asked.
Gaz nodded. “Yeah. I won all my fights, but, man, I got sliced ’n’ diced good in more than a few of ’em.” He pointed to Victor’s hand. “Gettin’ a hand severed was a common injury.”
Victor involuntarily rubbed the spot where the black composite of his prosthetic seamlessly attached to the flesh of his arm. “That must have sucked.”
Gaz shrugged. “They stopped being a big deal after the first one. I regrew a whole arm once.”
“No kidding?”
“No kiddin’,” Gaz said. “Took a few months though. All that downtime led me to thinkin’ I needed a new line of work. So I fled the planet as soon as I was back to full strength, before my owner could send me to the pits again.”
“Well, I’m sorry to force you down memory lane,” Victor said.
Gaz waved his hand dismissively. “Fuck that, Cap. I put myself in this bed. I was so excited to kill Marsh that I forgot to check my corners.”
“Was King Marsh your owner?” Victor asked.
Gaz shook his head. “Nah, I killed that fucker when I escaped. I wanted to kill Marsh because he was the king of the planet that made me a slave. Speaking of which, I heard how you cut off his head with your variblade. Nice.”
Victor half smiled. “I figured you’d like that.”
“You’re a tough fucker, you know that, Captain?” Gaz said.
“Not as tough as you though,” Victor said.
“Wrong. You’re tougher than me,” Gaz said.
“Last I checked, I don’t have superhuman healing,” Victor said.
“Which is why you’re tougher than me, Cap,” Gaz said. “I get hit, I get back up as strong as I was before. But you? You get stronger every time you take a hit.”
Victor cocked his head to the side. “That sounds like something Nietzsche would say.”
Gaz gave him a confused look. “Who’s
Neet-chee
?”
“A First Civilization philosopher who said something very similar to what you just said,” said Victor. “I think you’d like reading his stuff.”
“
Hrmm
, maybe I will. Got nothin’ else to do while my insides get unfucked,” Gaz said.
“Well, rest up fast. I want to have you back as soon as I return from my next mission,” Victor said.
“The high councilor’s got ’nother job for us already?”
Victor nodded. “He’s worried the Lysandrans are making a move on the Free Worlds, so he’s sending me with his son to keep an eye out.”
“Well, damn. I’d hate to miss out on the money,” Gaz said.
“There will be other jobs. And, besides, you’re already rich,” Victor said.
“Not rich enough,” Gaz said. “You be careful out there, Cap, you got it? I’m not likely to get another boss as good as you.”
“Noted. I’ll make sure to keep my head low,” Victor said.
“That’s all I ask, Cap. That’s all I ask.”
Chapter 17
Lysandra watched as the emperor, dressed in full military regalia, walked up the shuttle’s boarding ramp flanked by a pair of fully armored Imperial Marines.
Rather than the military uniform her father had insisted she wear, she wore a long-sleeve jacket over a finely cut black dress. It was a subtle protest at the war her father was about to start but the jacket also kept the autumn chill at bay.