One produced a badge case. "Captain Val Kedron of Valkyrie?" He asked in a disinterested tone. At my nod, he continued, "Imperial Security Service. Would you and Mr. Carlon come with us, please?"
It was like a sudden ice water bath. Cops and jails are one thing. ISS is another entirely. Suddenly I was dead sober — and scared. The ISS spends most of its time pursuing terrorists and threats against the Empire. The rest of their time is devoted to the protection of the Emperor and other high imperial officials. They have incredible powers, and are responsible only to the Director of Imperial Security on Prime.
We were both so dumbfounded and so intimidated that we didn't even question the men; we just went meekly along. When we headed down the tunnel toward the dome that held only the Viceroy's palace, I swallowed loudly. It looked like we were in big trouble. Hari's face could have been carved from stone.
The man who rose to greet me didn't look intimidating. He was of average height and middle-aged. Slim and elegant, he was conservatively well dressed, a novelty on Haven. His face was darkly handsome, undoubtedly the result of expensive body sculpting. If anything, he most resembled an aging vid star playing an imperial courtier. His eyes scanned me from head to toe, missing nothing. I flushed, remembering my unkempt appearance.
"Thank you for coming, Captain. I'm Sander Cord, Viceroy of the Rim Sector." His smile appeared genuine and welcoming, but that didn't reassure me.
I'd heard of Cord, of course. Everyone has. How he was the son of one of the Imperial Prince's tutors. How the old Emperor had decided the Prince needed a companion his own age, and how Cord had literally been raised in the palace with the Prince, now Eron XXIV, Emperor of Humanity. Dozens of vids have been written and produced portraying Cord as everything from a gallant hero who rose from obscurity to become the Emperor's only true friend, to a villainous opportunist blackmailing his way to power. I really hadn't formed an opinion, though I suspected the truth was somewhere in between.
"I appear to have caught you at an unfortunate moment," he continued. His voice was a mellow and trained baritone, his accent pure upper-class innerworld.
I could feel warmth crawl over my face. I began to mutter an apology, but he waved it off. "Don't worry, Captain. I don't base my judgments of people on their appearance. I'm much more concerned with who they are than who they appear to be." He straightened, and his manner became businesslike. "I need you, Captain. And you, Mr. Carlon. And I need your ship."
That surprised me. "What in space would a Sector Viceroy need with a couple of broken-down old free traders and a ninety-year old ship?"
The smile didn't waver. "Now, now, Captain. You can hardly be called 'broken-down'. I still have access to Empire Intelligence, you know." He dropped a record chip into the reader slot on his desk.
"Let's see now. Kedron, Val. Native of Solaris IV. Graduated Fleet Academy with honors, 2842AE. Assigned… well, I'm not going to go through your entire service record. Resigned 2859AE, at rank of Lieutenant Colonel of Marines." He paused. "Immediately after the withdrawal from Haskins' World."
I winced at the reminder. "Yeah," I replied dully. That was one subject I didn't want to discuss. I'd been living with the nightmares for ten years.
He shook his head and sighed. "The Fleet lost some of its best people because of Haskins' World. You heard about Admiral Dunstan?" I nodded, and he continued. "Let's see, completed Strategy and Tactics at the Imperial War College with honors. A two-year course, is it not?"
I nodded again. I had a feeling I knew what was coming, and wasn't going to like it.
"Completed Ship Operations, Navigation, and Jump Theory. It appears you were on what they call the fast track to a flag. That's the usual reason for sending a Marine to Ship Ops."
I nodded again. I really didn't like this conversation. This guy knew entirely too much about military matters for a sycophantic politician. Flag rank is only conferred on officers who have commanded both a warship and marines on the ground in combat. "I was in receipt of orders to take command of a destroyer when I blew it on Haskins' World," I admitted. "I resigned as soon as I got back to the Aigash Kai, before they could court-martial me."
He looked puzzled. "Court-martial? There's nothing in your service record regarding a possible court-martial." His face cleared, and he stared at me intensely. "Could it possibly be you don't know, Captain? Didn't you read the reports of the investigating team?"
I shook my head nervously. I could feel the sweat forming on my forehead and palms. "I had just lost more than half of my command. I didn't need a bunch of bureaucrats from Prime to tell me I'd screwed up. Two days after we reached the Kai, Hari and I hitched a ride on a supply ship to Aragon II. We bought the old Valkyrie, signed on an Astrogator and Comm Officer on shares, and never looked back." I glared at him. "We're still not looking back."
Cord had a wondering expression on his face. "Gods, you really don't know! General Stilkis was the one who'd have been court-martialed, if he'd survived. The investigation not only cleared you, it praised your performance in the face of overwhelming odds. Admiral Dunstan put a note in your service record to the effect that he'd have recommended you for the Empire Star, if you hadn't bailed out so quickly. He said that…" Cord glanced at the screen.".. Colonel Kedron was almost solely responsible for our ability to extract all the nuclear and heavy weapons, and nearly six thousand Fleet personnel. Despite poor decisions by superior officers and casualties of more than sixty percent, Colonel Kedron was able to maintain unit cohesion and made it possible for the fleet to accomplish an effective evacuation, instead of a confused debacle." Cord raised his eyes to me. "I'm honored to be the one to tell you this, Captain. When the Fleet invaded and recaptured Haskins' World, it was largely due to your efforts that they didn't have to face nukes. Thousands of men and women owe you their lives."
It was my turn to stare.
"Hah!" Hari crowed. "I told you Fleet HQ wasn't stupid enough to blame you! The Empire Star!" He looked impressed.
"But I lost more than half my command!" I protested weakly. "Almost a thousand people died because of me!" I was reeling. On the one hand, I was absolved of the guilt I'd carried around for more than ten years. On the other hand, I was beginning to realize I'd given up a career I loved simply because I was depressed over taking heavy casualties.
Cord smiled gently. "Those men died so many thousands more might live. You bear no guilt, Captain. Quite the contrary." He straightened and his smile widened. "So you are neither 'broken down' nor simply a free trader." He turned to Hari. "And I believe you have a military background, as well, Mr. Carlon."
Hari nodded warily.
I shrugged. If Cord had my record, he certainly had Hari's. "Hari was a Fleet Commander, Engineering Officer on the Osiris." I was regaining my equilibrium. "Now, can we get down to what this is all about?"
A slight frown crossed his features as he looked at me appraisingly. Then, as though he'd decided something, he turned to the ISS men and waved them out.
"Very well, Captain," he began when we were alone. "I suppose I should start with the most basic fact, the one that has guided my efforts for the last thirty years." He looked as though he wanted to say more, to emphasize the strength of his feelings even more, but couldn't find the words. Finally, he just shrugged. "You see, Captain, the Empire has been in decline since the Horsehead Rebellion, and even the most optimistic estimates say it will collapse completely within three hundred years."
He didn't look upset at my involuntary snort of derision, but I was furious with myself for my lack of control. I was casting frantically about for a reply when Hari said, "And what are the most pessimistic estimates?"