No matter. ‘Is the
Voxa
forming up with us?’ he asked his first officer.
‘Yes, Vocator. I believe she is just waiting for our lead.’
‘Excellent.’ Barini could see the Earth dreadnought in the main viewport, dead ahead. Its weapons continued to cycle, pushing out bolts of energy in their direction, but they were out of its effective range and what little reached the
Jaddo
was intercepted by the defensive screen or else pattered harmlessly off its hull.
‘Charge the lasers,’ Barini said, waiting for a nod from his first officer. ‘Fire!’
The twin lances of red from the
Jaddo
were soon joined by those of the
Voxa
as they skewered the
Dowding
amidships. They drilled four holes straight through the dreadnought, then worked fore and aft as their gunners expertly altered the focussing lenses to caress the
Dowding
. Though the
Dowding
was well-armoured and could take a significant amount of punishment from regular weapons, it had no defence against modern battle lasers. Regulating their power output, the Primus’ crew maintained the laser beams on their target. Armour buckled and broke free on the
Dowding
, revealing the superstructure beneath, which were eagerly consumed. Fires sprang up under this assault, and the dreadnought slowly began to break apart, its hull cut into several sections.
Barini relaxed for the first time since battle began. He thought of himself as a well-trained officer of the military and a good example to his crew, but he always felt tense during battle, no matter how one-sided. Service of this nature was a sure route to wealth and power, especially with a patron such as Minister Territt, but it always carried the risk of disaster and death--two things a noble could never recover from.
His first officer stood at attention below the command plinth until Barini acknowledged him.
‘Yes?’
‘Vocator, we have detected life signs within some of the wreckage.’
‘You know what to do,’ Barini replied.
‘Yes, Vocator. We have also found a few life signs on the
Protera
.’
Barini shrugged. ‘We have no time for rescue attempts. Deal with that wreck as well.’
If the first officer or any of the bridge crew blanched at the idea of murdering their fellow Centauri, they were wise enough not to show it. Each was in a privileged position on board a ship as powerful as the battlecruiser and, more to the point, they would be well compensated for their actions today. The core of Centauri society rested on the best striving to get ahead of those they bettered, and politics was as much a part of the military life as was combat.
The two battlecruisers charged their weaponry once more, spending the next hour blasting apart the broken ships into ever-smaller pieces. Lasers were not used this time, as the Centauri crews worked to use the impact of their weapons to lend momentum to the debris, sending it reeling across space, far from the scene of the battle. Barini knew that, at some point, Earth would send ships to investigate the disappearance of the task force. Within hours, any recognisable part of any ship would be far beyond any sensor range, destined to keep its secret as it travelled through deep space for a million years. If discovered after that, Barini really did not care. He had no time to mask the energy signatures left by the discharge of weaponry. The aim, as Minister Territt had been at pains to point out, was to ensure that any investigation did not lead back to Barini’s own squadron--it was inevitable that the Centauri as a whole were blamed, but there was no sense in Barini being called to account.
Barini readily agreed with that sentiment. As his ships finished their post-battle task and prepared to jump back to Centauri space, Barini considered the favour the Minister now owed him.
He considered that the Minister might double-cross him after this mission, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He would make the perfect scapegoat if anything went wrong, of course, but he had fulfilled his orders to the letter. Barini harboured a strong sense of his own innate worth. As powerful as the Minister was, having a squadron of battlecruisers effectively in his own pocket was something that he prized, and Barini was the key to that. No, he was sure the Minister understood the value of a powerful military force at his beck and call.
In return, Barini could ask for a higher position within the military, a political appointment to the Royal Court or even a boost in the standing of his House--which could potentially lead to a place within the Centaurum, given time. However, all that could wait. Barini did not have sufficient power among the nobles nor his House among the other families to take advantage of the gifts the Minister could bring in that arena. No, on reflection he would ensure his ships were repaired and that the
Protera
was replaced. After that, he would simply take money. With money came power and freedom of choice. If, later in his life, he decided to enter the political arena, he would be well funded. If not, well, a good retirement awaited, possibly in a small manor among the forests south of Imperial City. No sense in being greedy, after all. Come what may, Barini’s actions today would provide him with a safe and secure future.
July 8th 2263, Mars Dome One, Sol
Sequestered in a tight booth on one side of the communications hub, Shaw and Tilanna had been literally falling over one another in an attempt to backtrack the Earth Alliance’s investigations into the attack on their government. Shaw encountered bureaucratic resistance with his initial enquiries. Here, at least, he found himself on firmer ground as he had dealt with monolithic Earth institutions, in one form or another, all his life on Mars, and he managed to negotiate access to the files he sought with little extra effort.
Shaw found his spirits raised slightly. He now had a course of action to follow, though he still could not imagine where his investigation would lead or how to convince the President and brass of the Earth Alliance of his findings. He decided his lifted spirits were probably a direct result of his affinity to his homeworld of Mars. Maybe something in the recycled air seemed familiar or the gravity tugged at just the right level. Though Shaw had been taught and conditioned by the Anla’Shok to accept the places he travelled and consider his own body his only real home, there was something comforting about Mars. He knew many Earthers hated the place, visiting only on sufferance because of duty or business, but for him it just felt . . . right.
While Shaw had been navigating the treacherous waters of Earth bureaucracy, Tilanna was interpreting the information on the data crystal transmitted by the Ranger-Analysts of Tuzanor. Sitting just to Shaw’s left in the close confines of the booth, her proximity was at times distracting, and on more than one occasion he smiled to himself. Frankly, he had more important things to worry about, but if her presence could offer some relief from the administrators he spoke to, then it was also reassuring to have her close by. In the very least, he was not alone.
‘Mr. Shaw, given the depth of information provided, it seems clear that House Kaado is implicated in the plot,’ she said after a period of silence.
Shaw smiled. ‘Tilanna, if we are going to be working together like this, you really need to start calling me Michael. Or Mike.’
‘That would not be . . . appropriate. It would not show the respect due one of the Anla’Shok.’
He winced slightly, having encountered the stubbornness for protocol common in the Religious Caste before. It could be an immovable obstacle, and many humans had trouble understanding just how this sect of Minbari thought. Count him among them, certainly.
‘Well. . .’ he said. ‘President Sheridan gave you a temporary assignment to the Anla’Shok. That makes us equals, right?’
She considered this. ‘I lack your training and have not been through the trials required by the Anla’Shok.’
‘True,’ he answered. ‘But you have your own temple training that I know nothing about--you have skills I could not even begin to master. It seems President Sheridan knows this and that is why he made the appointment.’
‘However unofficial it may be,’ Tilanna said, looking pointedly at him.
‘Given the situation, I hardly think that matters.’
‘You are probably right ... Michael.’
‘Better,’ said Shaw, with a wry smile. ‘What was that about House Kaado?’
‘It seems that House attracted some interest from the intelligence centre long before this attack on Earth.’
Shaw paused for a few seconds, turning ideas over in his head. ‘That does us no good. We can prove very little, other than the facility we visited was used, at some point, to store the device. It is not a smoking gun we are looking for--we only need to visit the ruins of EarthDome to find that. What we need is motive--and a good reason to indicate that the Centauri Republic as a whole was not responsible.’
He turned to face her, his leg brushing hers.
‘Luchenko already has the same information we do. If we go to her with this, we have nothing else to back it up. The Earthers are in shock; their pride has been wounded. They are looking for someone to blame, and Luchenko will be under pressure to do something, anything--and that will likely be military action.’
Tilanna shook her head, a little sadly, he thought. ‘It seems incomprehensible to me that an entire people can be moved to aggression without ample evidence.’
‘Well, you could say that was exactly what happened when your people went to war against us,’ Shaw said quickly, then immediately regretted it.
Tilanna paused for a few seconds and then whispered quietly. ‘That was different.’
‘Maybe. We have to keep searching. We won’t find an answer in the information sent to us from Tuzanor--if anything substantial was there, someone far cleverer than us would have found it.’ This, at least, drew a slight smile from Tilanna. ‘It may help us though, if we can uncover something else, something we are missing right now.’
‘I agree,’ she said simply and turned back to her station.
They both looked up as a quick rap on the wall of their booth announced the presence of an EarthForce ensign.
‘I was sent to fetch you, err, Rangers,’ he said. ‘Something has happened.’
Hurrying out of the booth to the centre of the communications hub, Shaw and Tilanna were immediately struck by the increased activity of the EarthForce personnel present. If anything, more blue uniforms rushed around. Luchenko was in the middle of a cluster of high-ranking officers, leaning over a display as she repeatedly asked for clarifications from an unseen voice.
A colonel stepped out from the scrum to intercept Shaw. ‘Rangers, we have just had news--sketchy at the moment as we are just getting information in.’
‘Trouble?’ Shaw asked, already fairly sure he knew the answer.
‘The carrier group
Corax
is missing, presumed destroyed. They were in deep space, waiting for orders, when we lost contact. An Oracle scout was dispatched to their location and reports signs of a battle, though no substantial wreckage has been found. The President is talking with the Oracle’s captain now.’
‘You think it was the Centauri,’ Shaw said.
‘Who else?’ said the colonel. ‘I am afraid this changes everything. As the duly appointed representative of the ISA, I must ask you what support you will give us.’
For a second, this question stumped Shaw, and his first reaction was to run to a communications terminal to reach Sheridan. Dismissing the impulse, he pushed past the colonel and into the middle of the EarthForce officers surrounding Luchenko.
‘Sorry, Colonel, I must speak to the President.’
Shaw immediately sensed that his Anla’Shok robes gave him at least a measure of authority among even admirals and generals. His bearing and demeanour surely did not. The Rangers were still something of a mystery on Earth, even the human members, and this lent an air which few directly questioned. After all, he was the representative of the Interstellar Alliance.
He listened to Luchenko’s closing words with the scout captain.
Agreed, Captain. Widen your search and report back. But if you see any trouble ... That’s right. Get yourself out of there; we will need you later. Don’t take risks. Luchenko out.’
If the President had slept since the disaster at EarthDome, she showed no signs of it. Shaw noted the bags under Luchenko’s eyes and the wrinkles of strain across her brow, but she retained a look of such raw determination, even fury, that he imagined she could go on for many hours more on pure adrenaline.
‘We have just bits and pieces at the moment--literally,’ she said. ‘Captain Leverstock reports that while there is no wreckage, micro debris is strewn across a wide area. More to the point, residual energy scans all point to a heavy discharge of Centauri-grade weaponry, as well as our own. Clearly a battle was fought there.
‘That’s it then,’ said a tall admiral to Shaw’s left, her lilting voice an odd contrast to her words. He had heard her called Keynes earlier. ‘We are under attack from the Republic. Madam President, you already have our recommendations.’
‘I do. Admiral--’
‘Madam President, if I may,’ said Shaw, interjecting. He was acutely conscious of every high-ranking officer nearby staring at him.
Luchenko raised her head to acknowledge him, though he could sense her impatience.
‘I must insist on restraint,’ he began. ‘By the laws of the Interstellar Alliance, you cannot take unilateral action against the Centauri.’
‘Actually, I have to disagree,’ said Admiral Keynes, looking down her long nose at Shaw. The authority of the Rangers was not universal among EarthForce officers after all, he reflected. ‘The Centauri are no longer part of the ISA, by their own choice. They have initiated hostilities against us, and we have every right to take pre-emptive action to defend ourselves.’
Shaw pointedly turned from Keynes to concentrate on Luchenko. ‘Madam President, please, you are not at war yet. We don’t know exactly what happened to the carrier group. If the Centauri were serious about starting a fight, would you not see attacks across their entire border, perhaps even into Earth space itself?’