Randolph Lalonde - Spinward Fringe Broadcast 08 - Renegades (29 page)

He continued until most
of the crowd was with him, then he took a step forward, crushing a
corner of the fighter he stood on. He quieted the crowd with
pacifying gestures and spoke to them in lower tones. Minh-Chu had
seen Frost in confident modes before, but he’d never appeared as a
true leader, in full control of the crowd.

“The fighting is
furious on a distant front, where my family was killed,” Frost
continued, almost hushed. “My enemy will not hear my grief, but
they celebrate our losses, and they know we suffer. You don’t have
to starve here, nothing but grief in your belly, fighting each other
for scraps.” He pointed over his head and the Warlord appeared two
hundred metres above. “The Warlord needs good crewmembers. From
pilots to machinists, we need every discipline. That will only take
care of a few of you, and I know there are tens, hundreds of
thousands.”

A low hum filled the
air and Minh-Chu glanced at Oz, who was trying to stifle a
self-satisfied grin. He looked past the Warlord in time to see the
Triton appear as it descended gently. It moved into place above the
smaller ship, and blocked out the sun.

“The Warlord needs a
couple hundred, but the Triton needs thousands of skilled people, and
that includes people who can do more than maintain a ship. She needs
people who can make a home. There are other doors opening too, and
we’ll be bringing more ships online.”

Wide eyes and glad
stares could be seen across the ruined landscape as the crowd was
momentarily frozen in place, stuck in disbelief.

“Our shuttles are
already starting to come down. We’ll check your records, and take
as many as we can. By the end of today, at least a thousand of you
will be aboard one of those ships.”

Minh-Chu was surprised
to see half a dozen Haven Shore shuttles descending along with the
ones coming from the Triton. “Okay, Ayan lending us the Clever
Dream is one thing, but my tactical system tells me those shuttles
are full of Haven Shore security and regulars,” Minh-Chu said.

“This was her idea,
showing up in force so the Carthans couldn’t stop us from
recruiting. I don’t think Ayan’s finished pulling strings yet,
either,” Oz said. “She’s turned her Council seat nomination
down so she can pursue something else full time. I don’t think she
really cares whose toes she’s stepping on.”

“What is she
pursuing?” Minh-Chu asked.

Oz pointed at Frost,
who was stepping down from the wreck he used as a soapbox into the
growing crowd. “I think he convinced her to start recruiting,
training, probably build a few military bases. I have quarters ready
for her on Triton, just in case she needs a breather, but I think our
favourite redhead is becoming a general, I doubt she’ll want a
break.”

“I think I should pay
her a visit before the Warlord sets out,” Minh-Chu said. “Oh, and
congratulations on Slick. I hear he’s re-joining the Triton with
most of the old squadron and their ground crew.”

“Who do you think is
flying those Haven Shore shuttles?” Oz said with a grin. “Those
soldiers are coming too.” He pointed to the black armoured soldiers
who were disembarking from the shuttles two by two. Their Haven Shore
insignias – a setting sun with a dome in the fore – had already
been replaced by Triton markings.

“Who knew an angry
Irishman could turn half a moon around,” Minh-Chu said. “Now we
have a new challenge: admitting all these people.”

“Ought to be pretty
nice for the Warlord,” Stephanie said. “Most of the people here
are from marooned crews, so they know what signing up for a new ship
is like. What’s going to be really interesting is when the Triton
starts bringing food down.”

Uriel and Ramiel
fighters entered the area, patrolling in a broad, low circle. “I
doubt the Carthans are going to come anywhere near this,” Minh-Chu
said.

“That’s why we
hurried up and got the last of Triton’s gravitational navigation
systems online last night,” Oz said. “We need to be here in force
so they think twice about confronting us. I’m surprised Jake didn’t
let you in on the plan.”

“I’m the only
commander here who doesn’t need a bigger staff,” Minh-Chu said.
“Besides, Ashley and I were reuniting.”

“Well, I hope you’re
going to help with recruitment today, because it’s gonna take a
while,” Alice said, wincing at the size of the gathering.

“Get me to a scanning
and screening station,” Minh-Chu replied, glancing up at the
Warlord. Ashley was up there, where she belonged at the helm. He
smiled a little then focused on the task ahead. Rangers were
directing the masses so they formed lines in front of small clusters
of security guards. Before Minh-Chu knew it, Alice was standing guard
over him as he loaded the crew criteria on his command and control
unit. A moment later he was scanning the first of many potential
crewmembers.

The Overlord

“I am not here to
serve you,” Clark said loudly enough so everyone in the large,
octagonal space could hear him. The hard carapace armour covering his
face only scraped together a little when he spoke. The crimson plates
and hardened mucus protecting the rest of his body had also become
more sleek, but humans still had difficulty looking at him, and that
included the crowd of twenty-four he spoke to. “All of your
personal requests from the last two months are denied. I am not
singling any of you out, but treating you equally.”

There was a stirring in
the seats as he delivered the news from the outer platform
surrounding the seating area. The room was built for immersive
holography, something that people didn’t seem interested in any
longer. To Clark, known as the Beast to the Order of Eden as well as
Regent Galactic, the room made the perfect meeting space. He could
stand over the people he spoke to, and it was easy to line the walls
with Order of Eden Knights. Every one of them had elevated themselves
in combat, and had almost as little regard for human life as he did.
They stared dispassionately at the officers sitting in the room in
their dark green and blue armour, waiting for orders.

“I think I speak for
most of the people here when I say that we understand that you didn’t
take control of the Order of Eden military so you could serve our
needs, but command comes with some privilege,” one of the younger
generals, Laurel Kenton, said.

“You have the
ultimate privilege: immortality,” Clark replied. Watching these
petitioners in the front rows of the chamber reminded him of newborn
grubs, all blindly scrounging in the dirt for food. These were the
greediest of his immediate subordinates, the wasteful ones, and the
loudest ones. They obeyed orders loosely, interpreting them instead
of following them precisely. “You have power, wealth, and you still
send pointless requests for expansion rights, try to tell me how this
organization should be run, and openly question my place as your
leader.”

He could smell the
anger and fear in the room. It was so potent that he didn’t notice
an Order of Eden Servitor approach him from behind until the older
man was whispering in his ear. “There is a high priority
transmission coming in, my Overlord.” The Servitor’s white and
green robes were so fine and frictionless they didn’t make a sound
as he moved. This one reeked of confidence, and carried with him a
sense that he felt he was exactly where he should be, believing he
was performing his duty well. “It bears the mark you advised I
should watch for, and is highly encrypted.”

“Thank you,
Servitor,” Clark said.

“You are welcome, my
Overlord,” the Servitor said before he bowed deeply and left the
room.

“You’re asking us
to establish a border across five sectors; our resources will be
spread thinly,” argued another general. Clark didn’t bother
looking at her, but instead considered what the new transmission
could contain. “We can hold the space, but the strategy behind it
is weak.“

“It is necessary,”
Clark said. “I am interested in containing what we have taken in
that region of space because it serves my purpose. We have secrets to
protect, and installations that are still vulnerable.”

“We wouldn’t have
to if you could control the Edxi. The Loi System is on the border of
my territory. I lost four new colonies when they took it without
warning,” a red-faced governor shouted.

“I sent them there,”
Clark replied. It was a complete lie. The Edxi took Loi without
warning, adding to the small section around Pandem and its system
that upper officers called the compensation circle. “You were
losing focus and reaching beyond your means.” His Issyrian senses
were filled with the reek of his dishonesty, but he knew his lie
would pass with the humans. He sometimes forgot how sense-dull they
were as a race, and could barely remember what it was like to be
locked into a human body – but he counted on it as he spoke to
these dissidents and the hidden onlookers.

The governor, Iella
Dremin, didn’t retort but stared with a furious gaze. Her comrades
were about to start complaining for her; he knew to expect it.
Clark’s patience was waning quickly. “All of you have the
resources to build or purchase more vessels, and our recruiting
program is providing more than enough manpower. All of you have been
given similar orders. You protest because you are greedy and
self-serving.” With a gesture, Clark ordered the observation level
windows surrounding the upper level of the hundred and fifty seat
entertainment centre to reveal the generals’ and governors’
spectating subordinates. “All of you can be replaced. My spies have
determined that these people are more trustworthy and capable of
taking control of your resources.”

“What are you doing,
Overlord?” shouted one of the generals in the front row. His
question sounded more like an accusation.

Clark used his direct
connection to the computer system sparingly, but this was one of
those occasions where he had to make sure his orders were issued
properly. “There is a special condition attached to the immortality
that the Order of Eden provides through framework technology, and
that is my utter control over your lives. All of the people watching
are about to be promoted into your positions, and they have been
given the same upgrades you all earned as Order followers.” Clark
issued a command to all of the twenty-four commanders’ framework
enhancements. He spoke loudly enough to be heard over most of their
questions and protests. “They will not question my orders because
of the demonstration they’re about to see.”

“What’s happening?”
asked one general, doubling over.

“I’m burning up!
What are you doing?” cried Laurel Kenton.

The framework systems
the Order installed into all of them as a reward for rising so high
in the organization, or as a bribe for loyalty, were reclaiming the
matter surrounding them. Systems installed bone-deep converted flesh
to energy and, without a storage system programmed to collect the
power, they converted that energy to heat. The gallery of
subordinates watched, horror-stricken as their commanding officers
writhed and screamed. After half a minute, human sounds of anguish
were replaced with a symphony of noises and fragrances altogether
different, as the superior officers were burned to bone in the final
phase of framework reclamation. The leftover framework technology
would be recycled, and those smouldering emitter systems would become
Order soldiers.

The room had become so
pungent that Clark turned and left without glancing at the gallery
windows above. He was sure he’d made his point. The Order of Eden
Matron, Eve, was standing outside, looking concerned. Whenever he was
near her he could sense her hesitation. It was tinged with fear,
something he thought was unfortunate at first, but came to enjoy as
she grew to embrace her role as the religious icon of the Order. “You
knew I didn’t approve of this and you completely ignored me.”

“I considered your
opinion and found this was the most direct course to getting over
twenty solar systems back on track,” Clark replied. “The new
commanders will perform their duty. They will not be like this group,
taking more territory than ordered, killing out of vendetta, or
hesitating to follow orders.”

“And what if you’ve
chosen a few that are worse?” Eve asked.

“Then they will be
found out and executed,” Clark said. He stopped and looked directly
at her. She averted her gaze. “The days of reckless conquest are
over. Three of the humans who burned are guilty of attempted
genocide. Each was responsible for the near eradication of entire
cultures, and the survivors will spread the word as witnesses, urging
more people to fight us.”

“They believed what I
do: that the only way to save humanity is to assume control. The
Order was started as a central faith to cull and gather them, to show
the Edxians that we are willing to pay penance for invading one of
their brood worlds. If we can’t demonstrate that we have control,
then there’s no telling how they will react.”

“I know exactly what
they will do,” Clark said. “They will begin a vengeance war. We
must demonstrate that we can control our own people, the territory
we’ve taken, otherwise that will come sooner than you think. You
continue your recruiting efforts, keep the masses calm and provide
for the new brood worlds.”

“Or what? You’ll
burn me, too?” she asked, looking up at him. “But you can’t,
can you? Everything in my generation and the prototypes are locked
out, aren’t they?”

“I will take care of
the prototypes eventually,” Clark said. “And I wouldn’t burn
you. I wouldn’t know who to replace you with.”

“Then why did you
invite me to this demonstration?” Eve asked.

“To show you that I
have no interest in keeping anything from you. We may not agree on
some things, but this is still an effort we cooperate on. It has to
be.”