“Thank you, Sire,” he said, all business as he returned the pin to Val. “And may the gods be with you.” To his crew, he said, “Set course for Orion III.”
The secret was out, and Val did not try to deny it. Instead, he wore the emblems on his collar in public and shared the captain’s table at all meals. The other seats around the table rotated among other passengers, and he was deluged with questions and a considerable amount of flirting.
With his secret out, Ellie’s was as well, but he knew she had never intended her existence to remain a secret, only her location. Remembering back to Gamma VI, he recalled her dangerous return to inform the general populace of her well-being. He was only continuing that effort now, and though it was on a very, very small scale, passengers aboard this ship numbered among the wealthy of the Empire. Their stories would spread.
Val had no way of knowing if any Rebels were aboard. Consequently, he wore a full size blaster prominently on his hip for the remainder of the voyage, and his hand was never far from it.
During a private time with Forg, Val informed him that the Queen herself had been subject to the scree on many occasions. Forg was aghast, visibly shamed with the knowledge. Later that day, he called on Val with a request.
“My associates and I would like to accompany you on the remainder of your mission,” he stated.
Val hesitated. “Where I’m going, it will be exceedingly dangerous. I suspect there will be Chessori within the command structure on Orion
III.”
“Then you might benefit from our protection,” Forg argued.
“Can you protect me from the scree?” he asked in surprise.
“No. But as soon as I see you writhing in pain on the floor, my weapon will be out. I will not hesitate to use it.”
“Against your own people?”
“These are not my people. The K’tiri have forsaken the honor of our name. They are my enemy.”
“Do you understand that I cannot reveal the location of my Queen to you?”
“I do, though that may change in time. I have heard of this Touch she uses. If, as I have been told, she can determine truth, I will submit to a Test.”
Val gave serious consideration to whether he should show up in Admiral Korban’s office as Sir Val or as Lieutenant Val. He decided to be a lieutenant again. As Sir Val, he would be admitted to Korban’s office immediately, but it would be impossible to keep his presence secret from the sector governor. Word of his identity would spread quickly enough from the passengers aboard Serendipity, but it would take hours to reach the military side of the base, and then it might simply be disbelieved. The downside to being a lieutenant again was that the rank ensured that several hours, and possibly several days, would be added to his quest – lieutenants did not easily reach the office of the sector commander.
In the end, he and Artmis decided that the greatest importance lie in Korban retaining as much control of events as was possible. Chandrajuski desperately needed someone in command to mount an offensive against the Rebels in Orion Sector. Without Korban, they’d have to start over, and probably at a lower level, adding months, if not years, to the process. The presence of a Knight of the Realm could, at least potentially, force the governor’s hand and cause Korban to be sacked. Val would keep as low a profile as he possibly could.
On the other hand, he might well be walking into a fatal ambush. He could not be certain of where Korban’s loyalty lay. Indeed, he wondered if Korban was still alive.
He left the ship as Lieutenant Val with an escort of six Chessori. He made good time: it took three hours for him to reach the outer defenses surrounding Korban’s office.
“Lieutenant Val with a dispatch for Admiral Korban,” he announced yet again. This time he was standing before a full commander.
“I’ll take the dispatch, Lieutenant,” the commander ordered without standing up.
“Sir, my orders are to deliver the dispatch to Admiral Korban personally.”
“Give me the dispatch, Lieutenant. I will personally deliver it.”
“Sorry, sir. There’s no written dispatch. It’s a verbal message.”
The commander rose angrily from his desk. “Who is the dispatch from?” he demanded.
“I can’t tell you, sir. Those are my orders.”
“You show up here with six Chessori demanding access to the admiral? You must be crazy! I can’t believe you’ve gotten this far. It’s as far as you’re going to get, Lieutenant. Dismissed.” The commander sat down again and returned to his paperwork.
Val leaned over the commander’s desk. “Would it help me or hinder me if I told you I’d recently been in discussion with Governor Veswicki?”
The commander looked up at him with a pained expression. “It might have helped if you hadn’t shown up with the Chessori. We don’t allow their kind in here. Sorry, kid. Get out.”
Val stood up and reached into his pocket, then leaned over the Commander’s desk again, speaking quietly. “Commander, you will show no change of expression on your face. Do you recognize this?” he asked, opening his hand.
The commander paled, but to his credit his eyes lifted to meet Val’s gaze without any change of expression. “I do. Are you from Struthers, then?”
“No. I am here on Imperial business. Notify Admiral Korban.”
“I won’t let the Chessori in, Sire.”
“Very well, they’ll wait outside.” Val ushered Forg and his men back through the door to wait in the corridor, then returned. The commander led him to the admiral’s office, which they entered without knocking. Val stepped across the threshold to find five blasters aimed at his midsection, including one in the hand of an aging admiral who stood behind a desk.
“You’ve got some explaining to do, Lieutenant,” the admiral said grimly. “But before you do, hand your weapon butt first to Commander Gorvl.” Val hesitated. The admiral added, “Quickly, young man, if you value your life.”
Val handed over his blaster, then held his hand out to the admiral, his Knight’s Pin in plain view to all. “I take it you are Admiral Korban? I would speak with you in private.”
“No matter who sent you, there’s nothing you can say that these men cannot hear. I am Admiral Korban.” He holstered his blaster but remained standing. The other officers remained on their feet as well, their weapons still aimed at Val.
“What’s your name?” the admiral demanded.
“Sir Val, Knight of the Realm.”
“There is no realm anymore. Who are you from? Struthers? Has he resorted to this?”
“You had a visit some months ago from a young woman. You believed her enough to provide her with a changeable beacon. I am proof of her story, and I am proof that the Queen lives.” Val threw the Pin onto Korban’s desk. “You know the drill, Admiral. You are oath-bound to follow it. Open the Pin.”
“I suppose Struthers has discovered the secret to making these things.”
“Only one with the Touch can complete the process, as you well know.”
Korban picked up the Pin and attempted to open it, but he could not.
He placed the Pin back on the desk. “Okay, your turn,” he announced. Val reached for the Pin, but Korban’s hand grasped his before he touched it. “Not so fast. I do know the drill. If apologies are necessary later, I will make them, but a lot is at stake here. Just leave it on the desk and pass your hand over it.”
“No apologies are necessary,” Val answered. “I, too, understand the stakes.” With his gaze locked onto Korban’s, Val passed his hand over the Pin. The locket snicked open, and their gazes broke, Korban’s lowering to the pin, Val’s remaining on the admiral.
Korban stared at the Pin for a long time before his gaze lifted to meet Val’s, then traveled around the room to make contact with each of the other officers.
“It’s as she foretold,” he said in amazement. “It’s Daughter.”