"The Space Forces commanders believe they have the moral high ground," the spy told Dazz.
Dazz just shrugged. "Why? Because one of our commanders attacked one of their ships to begin this whole thing?"
"And that they executed the SF intelligence agent," the spy added. "Revenge ranks very high on the scale of human emotion. Not to mention the perfect motive to go to war."
Dazz drained about half his cup of slow-ship and shrugged again. "I don't deny it happened that way. And I can tell you that many people in our top command are as baffled by that action as I'm sure the SF is. But your friends in the Space Forces are not so innocent…"
The spy sipped his drink. "Please explain."
Dazz smiled darkly. "Do you know all the details of what happened out near that godforsaken planet Doomsday 212? I mean, before and after the war started?"
The spy shook his head. "I'm not sure anyone does," he replied.
It was a mystery, most of it. First the SG's elite Rapid Engagement Fleet disappeared while hunting for a rebel group who'd vowed to take down the Empire. More than thirty Starcrashers, suddenly gone. Then, just as suddenly, the REF reappeared, just long enough to kill the SF agent on Doomsday 212 and then shoot down two Space Forces warships without warning. This was the action that started the war. Soon afterward, the REF disappeared yet again, only to return a third time. And on this occasion, they began a rampage of terror across the Galaxy the likes of which no one had ever seen. Their warships, which for some reason had turned crimson from the SG's standard gray, streaked around the Empire, relentlessly attacking innocent people and undefended targets, seemingly intent on causing as much human misery as possible.
The enigmatic fleet then reassembled near a point close to Doomsday 212. It was there that ships belonging to the aforementioned rebel fleet, helped by a motley collection of other soldiers of fortune, met and somehow defeated the REF, while, it was widely reported, the SF stood by and did nothing. By some opinion, the SF's inaction amounted to aiding and abetting an enemy of the realm.
"I might be getting ahead of myself," Dazz said, slightly drunk now. "But do you really think those rebels and their shit-kicker friends were enough to defeat the REF on their own? Or do you think they had special help?"
The spy was not so surprised by the question. Many things were still unanswered from that day. "Well, we know Hawk Hunter was there," he replied.
Again, Dazz nodded glumly. Hawk Hunter. Bane of the Solar Guards. The man who led the rebel fleet. The man who'd vowed to topple the Fourth Empire itself. He'd been reported right in the thick of this strange battle. He and his awesome Flying Machine. It was the fastest ship in the Galaxy.
Everyone knew about Hawk Hunter; he was an authentic living legend. He'd been found stranded on a desolate planet at the far edge of the Galaxy nearly three years before. His origins unknown, even to himself, he was brought to Earth shortly afterward, and with his incredibly fast space fighter, he won the illustrious Earth Race. As a result, he was lavished with riches and praise and given a ship's command in the Empire's forces.
Hunter soon went missing, however, part of a scheme fomented by the Emperor's own daughter, the unimaginably beautiful Princess Xara. She'd allowed Hunter to search for the remnants of the people he called the Last Americans. And sure enough, he found this lost civilization living on a planet so far off the star roads, it wasn't even inside the Milky Way.
But the word on the streets around the Empire said Hunter not only located his lost Americans but also found evidence that Earth had been stolen from these Americans and the other original peoples who lived on the mother planet several thousand years before. Indeed, they claimed this sinister aspect of history was woven into the fabric of all four Empires. But was it true? Had Earth been stolen
from its original inhabitants? There was no way to tell. Almost nothing of the history of the empires had survived the handful of Dark Ages that separated the realms. In fact, very little was known about the Galaxy prior to the rise of the present Fourth Empire. But many people in the Milky Way were beginning to believe this tale, just on Hunter's charisma alone.
It was Hunter who'd led a previous rebel attack on the Empire, one that nearly reached the One Arm itself, until he and his allies ran up against the REE That's when Hunter's fleet disappeared, too, only to return just in time to meet the reemerging REF. And that's when the second battle near Doomsday 212 took place.
"And it is no surprise he was on hand," the spy went on. "Hunter seems to be everywhere sometimes…"
The SG officer laughed darkly again. "Well, he is a superman, the son of a bitch," he said. "I saw him fight at the Siege of Qez. And before that, I saw him win the Earth Race. Only the stars know what he is planning next. What deep thoughts and machinations are going through his brain. They say he never sleeps. That he is always thinking. Planning. Plotting against us. Dreaming up new ways to take us down. I'm sure at this moment, that mind of his is racing like a string clock, conspiring our demise."
The spy nodded in agreement, but in truth, he was getting impatient. Everyone knew about Hunter's enormous talent for combat and intrigue. But rehashing such things couldn't possibly be the reason that Dazz had risked all to meet him here.
"So?" the spy asked him. "There is something else, I assume — besides this history lesson?"
Dazz sipped his drink again. "I have three things for you today," he said, getting down to business. "Here is the first: Where were you during the Great Flash?"
The man in the big floppy hat just stared back at him. It was an odd question to ask, only because the spy knew something else that Dazz and most people in the Galaxy did not: the Great Flash didn't just happen; the Empress's attack was not a random, spontaneous event, although it seemed that way. The truth was, it came at a crucial moment during the battle near Doomsday 212, disabling a number of ships belonging to the rampaging SG Rapid Engagement Fleet, thus swinging the fortunes back to that unlikely collection of weapons dealers and rebels, and allowing them to somehow defeat the hellish SG special ops troops. This begged the question: was the Empress in league with the rebels?
That, no one knew. Not even him.
But because very few people were privy to the exact timing of the attack on the Big Generator, the spy was certain this couldn't be the rebels' special help that Dazz was talking about. In reality, many things went right for the insurgents that day.
But to the question, where was the spy when the lights went out?
"I was asleep," he bed to the SG officer.
"So was I," the SG officer lied back.
The spy shrugged. "I hear they are repairing the damage though," he said. "That it really wasn't so extensive."
Dazz shrugged again. "But it is precisely those repairs that you and I and the rest of the Empire should be very concerned about…"
"And why is that?" the spy asked.
The SG officer lowered his voice again. "The Special
Solar Guards have taken over the repair of the Big Generator. This is a closely held secret. But as they are fixing it, they are trying to change it as well. Alter the way it works."
The spy was shocked to hear this. The Special Solar Guards were a quasi-secret detachment of the regular SG. While they were known for their ultrafanaticism in preserving the SG's ill-gotten power, they were actually little more than superthugs and perverts in uniforms. Why would these heavy-handed clowns want to fool around with the Big Generator? The sacred piece of rock was the lifeblood of everything in the Galaxy. Moreover, no one was sure where it came from or how it even worked, least of all the SSG.