The Mechaneer
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Chapter 94: Yield
Chapter 94: Yield
Rudy's head swam. His nerves cried out in imagined, or at least sympathetic, agony. Not just sympathetic. One of Zelph's blows had smashed Rudy's head against his cockpit, and despite his mecha and his suit both trying to adapt to cushion the blow, it had left him reeling.
But, for reasons he couldn't presently begin to guess, he was still alive.
He blinked away the blood pooling in his flight suit's eyepiece. Couldn't pilot that way. With a thought, the suit's mask folded backwards with a small crimson splash. He was bleeding bad and he felt like crap, but none of it was life threatening. Blows to the temple just bled like crazy.
Sweat mingled with his blood. The Epee, true to form, ran damned hot. Rudy wondered if its coolant system had survived the pounding Zelph had given him. He smelled something acrid that could have been whatever the mecha's fire suppression systems left of a blaze in the wiring.
Or, he thought, it could be the smell of burning wiring the damaged fire suppression systems had not put out, which would probably burn him alive before he reached the mecha bay. Always look on the bright side, right?
He had to get control. Of himself, and his machine.
Otherwise, all the internal damage in the world wouldn't mean squat. He didn't know why the Hand of the People hadn't closed on him yet, but he couldn't expect more than a temporary respite.
He forced his unsteady gaze on the mecha's main screen.
Bizarrely, Zelph's fists were raised for what looked like a killing blow. They descended, but painfully slowly.
Rudy had no trouble smashing his good arm into Zelph's chest and shoving the Animus Hunter back.
The hell...?
Suddenly, Rudy's eyes shot to the Algreil Aerospace booth. He couldn't even pick it out of the crowd at this distance, of course, but...
He slapped the button to activate the Epee's communications system.
It displayed the booth.
Algreil Aerospace's booth. His booth. Where his fiancé, her mother and their friend were supposed to be watching a friendly match.
Where five Animus Hunters apiece held Chloe and Milissa at spear-point, and Ellie lay unmoving on the floor.
Rudy stared at the scene, unable to move, unable to think.
Then, suddenly, wordlessly, he screamed.
He kept screaming as he smashed the Epee's dangling arm upwards and triggered its claws, not caring when they scoured his own armor. With his fully actuated arm, he plunged a blow into Errard Zelph's chestplate. He wasn't trying to cut. He wasn't even trying to tear.
He was digging.
Chunks of metal and weirdly organic-looking sinew ripped from the Animus Hunter's mecha. As suddenly as his attack had slowed, it redoubled now –
But Rudy was past caring when Zelph's elbow dug into his exposed shoulder. It hurt, yeah – but it was nothing.
He didn't care when Zelph's machine gripped his and ripped it nearly in half down the back. It was agony like nothing he'd ever experienced, yeah – but it was nothing.
He didn't care when the Animus Hunter's hellishly powerful hands clapped around his mecha's head and squeezed.
Because by then, his claws had torn into the black mecha's innards. He wrenched its engine clean from its moorings, tore it free as if he gripped Zelph's own heart. He hurled the burning, overheating core away. It exploded before it had traveled a kilometer.
Rudy's one good clawed hand closed around the neck of Zelph's mecha.
He was still screaming.
The Epee was still digging.
And somewhere – there, at the center of his vision – a bright red light flashed in his eyes, repeated, insistent.
Rudy screamed at the light, spat blood on the screen.
Stopped.
Tournament mechaneer's instincts so ingrained into him they even pierced his rage told him he must stop.
Zelph had yielded.
Damn him to hell, he had yielded.
Rudy drifted away from Zelph's eviscerated machine. He hung suspended in the middle of the arena, his surviving thrusters sending out tiny burns to keep him a constant distance from his foe.
His communications suite beeped.
He slapped it with a rapidly numbing hand. Shit, it was cold. So why was he sweating like a pig?
It must actually be hot. He'd just lost a lot of blood.
He wondered, but didn't much care, if he'd make it back to the mecha bay alive.
He'd been wrong.
Principle, Chloe, so, so, wrong, baby, so sorry –
But she couldn't hear him. Couldn't sense him.
"Congratulations, Mr. Algreil," Errard Zelph said, momentarily drawing Rudy's attention to the communications screen. The Animus Hunter's helm was cracked and oozing blood, but through the crack, Rudy could see his damnable bland smile. "I yield."
"Could've killed me," Rudy said. He wasn't sure if his words were slurring because he was hurt and exhausted and overheating – or because of what he'd seen in the Algreil Aerospace box. "Why? Why... give up?"
"Because I bear you no ill will," Zelph said. "I have already accomplished everything I needed to in this tournament."
"Bastard," Rudy slurred. "Clo...? Where'd you... What're you doing?"
"I am afraid your Imperial girlfriend's intervention means she is guilty of an actual crime, Mr. Algreil," Zelph said. His smile widened, sending another rivulet of blood to drip onto the chest of his armored suit. "There is no longer any need to fabricate charges against her, nor any need to stay the justice her father earned for himself when he sided with your brother.
"Nor any need," the Animus Hunter concluded, "to stay the justice she has earned."
Rudy would have killed him then, rules be damned, instincts be damned. Bad enough that he'd tricked Chloe, hurt Chloe – but to be happy about it? Death was too good for Errard Zelph, but Rudy Kaine Algreil was not too good to give it.
He would have, if he hadn't blacked out.
Rudy's head swam. His nerves cried out in imagined, or at least sympathetic, agony. Not just sympathetic. One of Zelph's blows had smashed Rudy's head against his cockpit, and despite his mecha and his suit both trying to adapt to cushion the blow, it had left him reeling.
But, for reasons he couldn't presently begin to guess, he was still alive.
He blinked away the blood pooling in his flight suit's eyepiece. Couldn't pilot that way. With a thought, the suit's mask folded backwards with a small crimson splash. He was bleeding bad and he felt like crap, but none of it was life threatening. Blows to the temple just bled like crazy.
Sweat mingled with his blood. The Epee, true to form, ran damned hot. Rudy wondered if its coolant system had survived the pounding Zelph had given him. He smelled something acrid that could have been whatever the mecha's fire suppression systems left of a blaze in the wiring.
Or, he thought, it could be the smell of burning wiring the damaged fire suppression systems had not put out, which would probably burn him alive before he reached the mecha bay. Always look on the bright side, right?
He had to get control. Of himself, and his machine.
Otherwise, all the internal damage in the world wouldn't mean squat. He didn't know why the Hand of the People hadn't closed on him yet, but he couldn't expect more than a temporary respite.
He forced his unsteady gaze on the mecha's main screen.
Bizarrely, Zelph's fists were raised for what looked like a killing blow. They descended, but painfully slowly.
Rudy had no trouble smashing his good arm into Zelph's chest and shoving the Animus Hunter back.
The hell...?
Suddenly, Rudy's eyes shot to the Algreil Aerospace booth. He couldn't even pick it out of the crowd at this distance, of course, but...
He slapped the button to activate the Epee's communications system.
It displayed the booth.
Algreil Aerospace's booth. His booth. Where his fiancé, her mother and their friend were supposed to be watching a friendly match.
Where five Animus Hunters apiece held Chloe and Milissa at spear-point, and Ellie lay unmoving on the floor.
Rudy stared at the scene, unable to move, unable to think.
Then, suddenly, wordlessly, he screamed.
He kept screaming as he smashed the Epee's dangling arm upwards and triggered its claws, not caring when they scoured his own armor. With his fully actuated arm, he plunged a blow into Errard Zelph's chestplate. He wasn't trying to cut. He wasn't even trying to tear.
He was digging.
Chunks of metal and weirdly organic-looking sinew ripped from the Animus Hunter's mecha. As suddenly as his attack had slowed, it redoubled now –
But Rudy was past caring when Zelph's elbow dug into his exposed shoulder. It hurt, yeah – but it was nothing.
He didn't care when Zelph's machine gripped his and ripped it nearly in half down the back. It was agony like nothing he'd ever experienced, yeah – but it was nothing.
He didn't care when the Animus Hunter's hellishly powerful hands clapped around his mecha's head and squeezed.
Because by then, his claws had torn into the black mecha's innards. He wrenched its engine clean from its moorings, tore it free as if he gripped Zelph's own heart. He hurled the burning, overheating core away. It exploded before it had traveled a kilometer.
Rudy's one good clawed hand closed around the neck of Zelph's mecha.
He was still screaming.
The Epee was still digging.
And somewhere – there, at the center of his vision – a bright red light flashed in his eyes, repeated, insistent.
Rudy screamed at the light, spat blood on the screen.
Stopped.
Tournament mechaneer's instincts so ingrained into him they even pierced his rage told him he must stop.
Zelph had yielded.
Damn him to hell, he had yielded.
Rudy drifted away from Zelph's eviscerated machine. He hung suspended in the middle of the arena, his surviving thrusters sending out tiny burns to keep him a constant distance from his foe.
His communications suite beeped.
He slapped it with a rapidly numbing hand. Shit, it was cold. So why was he sweating like a pig?
It must actually be hot. He'd just lost a lot of blood.
He wondered, but didn't much care, if he'd make it back to the mecha bay alive.
He'd been wrong.
Principle, Chloe, so, so, wrong, baby, so sorry –
But she couldn't hear him. Couldn't sense him.
"Congratulations, Mr. Algreil," Errard Zelph said, momentarily drawing Rudy's attention to the communications screen. The Animus Hunter's helm was cracked and oozing blood, but through the crack, Rudy could see his damnable bland smile. "I yield."
"Could've killed me," Rudy said. He wasn't sure if his words were slurring because he was hurt and exhausted and overheating – or because of what he'd seen in the Algreil Aerospace box. "Why? Why... give up?"
"Because I bear you no ill will," Zelph said. "I have already accomplished everything I needed to in this tournament."
"Bastard," Rudy slurred. "Clo...? Where'd you... What're you doing?"
"I am afraid your Imperial girlfriend's intervention means she is guilty of an actual crime, Mr. Algreil," Zelph said. His smile widened, sending another rivulet of blood to drip onto the chest of his armored suit. "There is no longer any need to fabricate charges against her, nor any need to stay the justice her father earned for himself when he sided with your brother.
"Nor any need," the Animus Hunter concluded, "to stay the justice she has earned."
Rudy would have killed him then, rules be damned, instincts be damned. Bad enough that he'd tricked Chloe, hurt Chloe – but to be happy about it? Death was too good for Errard Zelph, but Rudy Kaine Algreil was not too good to give it.
He would have, if he hadn't blacked out.
Chapter 95: Infirmary
Chapter 95: Infirmary
Ellie began, "Is he going to be –"
Rudy Algreil's eyes, bright electric blue where they weren't bloodshot red, flew open. They almost matched the decor in the Algreil Aerospace sickbay. "Mrs. Hughes," he groaned.
She nodded. "It's me, Mr. A... Rudy."
He slumped back and sighed. "Didn't really see that. Just a bad dream. Clo okay?"
Ellie didn't answer.
Rudy rolled his bandaged head to face her. "She's okay?" A heartbeat. "Right?"
"Unfortunately," Avalon said, "no."
Ellie closed her eyes.
"Where," Rudy growled. Even slurring his words and lying on a medical table, he almost managed to sound dangerous.
"We don't know," Ellie said. Her voice sounded weaker than Rudy's, though she hadn't had so much as a concussion when one of the Animus Hunters shoved her aside to get to Chloe, and certainly hadn't lost the kind of blood the young Algreil had.
To get to Chloe, Ellie repeated in her mind. To take Chloe.
"She was taken," Avalon said. "I assume she is in some secure facility in the core, awaiting the judgment of the senate."
"Zelph," Rudy said. "Set up."
"We know." Ellie looked down at the young man, little more than a boy, her daughter loved. She hadn't realized how much until she saw the pain in Chloe's face when it looked like Rudy would die. She hadn't realized how much he felt for Chloe until she saw him now.
Rudy Algreil didn't even seem to realize he was crying.
"You must... hate my guts," he said. "Walked her right into this. Didn't listen. She told me. Her dad told."
Ellie reached out and took one of his hands. "No, Rudy."
He blinked up at her. "You're bein' nice," he said. "Tha's weird. 'm I gonna die?"
"Probably," Ellie said, "but only because I expect they'll execute all of us once they're done with Chloe."
"That will not happen," Avalon said. "I swear to you, that is not President Ferrill's intention. She will follow the law, Ellie."
"Wha's the law say," Rudy asked. He gritted his teeth. "Shit. Wha's wrong with me? Gettin' worse."
"You're groggy from the Limiters," Ellie said. "You'd be in a lot of pain without them, though."
"Get'm out," he said. "Gotta save Clo."
"No," Avalon said.
Rudy and Ellie both looked to him.
"You are in no condition to attempt a rescue," Avalon said. "Your injuries are neither deep nor lasting, but they are debilitating. Until you have rested and allowed your company's medical nanomachines to repair your body, you cannot even walk, much less assault Etemenos's core."
"Gotta try," Rudy said. He managed something that might have been meant as more smile than grimace. "Wha 'bout Mili?"
"They took her, too," Ellie said. "Principle! That poor kid hadn't even done anything wrong."
"Bastards," Rudy muttered.
Neither Ellie nor Avalon offered any disagreement.
"President Ferrill," Avalon said, "will not charge Miss Kyrillos with any wrongdoing. She has done nothing. Of course, she will be expected to take Limiters to suppress her powers. Even Chloe cannot be charged with more than the unlicensed use of psychic abilities. She hurt no one. While later instances of that infraction carry harsh penalties, the first is merely enforced Limiter use or induction into the Animus Hunter Corps."
"Are you actually defending them?" Ellie whirled on him. She didn't want to have an argument in the middle of the infirmary – but by the Principle, it looked like she'd be having one somewhere. "Excusing what they did?"
"Of course not," Avalon said. "The Animus Hunters displayed treachery and brutality of the worst sort. They led your daughter into a trap and baited it in Rudolf's blood. They not only acted without the guidance of any sort of decency, they violated the spirit of law by entrapping Chloe."
"Then how can you say they'll follow the law now?" Ellie demanded.
"Because the Animus Hunters are but the enforcers of the law. President Ferrill is its final arbiter, and this case is important enough to come before her."
And Avalon did not, perhaps could not, believe the president was involved in Chloe's entrapment. Ferrill had been a mother to him. She had saved his life and she had, in a very real sense, given him a life. Without her, he would have been nothing more than a weapon. Or, more likely, a tiny corpse thrown into the trash to disguise the misdeeds of senates past. Even if he'd escaped, he would never have been treated as a full-fledged human being, much less a great man.
Ellie was glad President Ferrill had done what she had for Avalon.
She could only pray the president would be a tenth as merciful to Chloe.
Ellie began, "Is he going to be –"
Rudy Algreil's eyes, bright electric blue where they weren't bloodshot red, flew open. They almost matched the decor in the Algreil Aerospace sickbay. "Mrs. Hughes," he groaned.
She nodded. "It's me, Mr. A... Rudy."
He slumped back and sighed. "Didn't really see that. Just a bad dream. Clo okay?"
Ellie didn't answer.
Rudy rolled his bandaged head to face her. "She's okay?" A heartbeat. "Right?"
"Unfortunately," Avalon said, "no."
Ellie closed her eyes.
"Where," Rudy growled. Even slurring his words and lying on a medical table, he almost managed to sound dangerous.
"We don't know," Ellie said. Her voice sounded weaker than Rudy's, though she hadn't had so much as a concussion when one of the Animus Hunters shoved her aside to get to Chloe, and certainly hadn't lost the kind of blood the young Algreil had.
To get to Chloe, Ellie repeated in her mind. To take Chloe.
"She was taken," Avalon said. "I assume she is in some secure facility in the core, awaiting the judgment of the senate."
"Zelph," Rudy said. "Set up."
"We know." Ellie looked down at the young man, little more than a boy, her daughter loved. She hadn't realized how much until she saw the pain in Chloe's face when it looked like Rudy would die. She hadn't realized how much he felt for Chloe until she saw him now.
Rudy Algreil didn't even seem to realize he was crying.
"You must... hate my guts," he said. "Walked her right into this. Didn't listen. She told me. Her dad told."
Ellie reached out and took one of his hands. "No, Rudy."
He blinked up at her. "You're bein' nice," he said. "Tha's weird. 'm I gonna die?"
"Probably," Ellie said, "but only because I expect they'll execute all of us once they're done with Chloe."
"That will not happen," Avalon said. "I swear to you, that is not President Ferrill's intention. She will follow the law, Ellie."
"Wha's the law say," Rudy asked. He gritted his teeth. "Shit. Wha's wrong with me? Gettin' worse."
"You're groggy from the Limiters," Ellie said. "You'd be in a lot of pain without them, though."
"Get'm out," he said. "Gotta save Clo."
"No," Avalon said.
Rudy and Ellie both looked to him.
"You are in no condition to attempt a rescue," Avalon said. "Your injuries are neither deep nor lasting, but they are debilitating. Until you have rested and allowed your company's medical nanomachines to repair your body, you cannot even walk, much less assault Etemenos's core."
"Gotta try," Rudy said. He managed something that might have been meant as more smile than grimace. "Wha 'bout Mili?"
"They took her, too," Ellie said. "Principle! That poor kid hadn't even done anything wrong."
"Bastards," Rudy muttered.
Neither Ellie nor Avalon offered any disagreement.
"President Ferrill," Avalon said, "will not charge Miss Kyrillos with any wrongdoing. She has done nothing. Of course, she will be expected to take Limiters to suppress her powers. Even Chloe cannot be charged with more than the unlicensed use of psychic abilities. She hurt no one. While later instances of that infraction carry harsh penalties, the first is merely enforced Limiter use or induction into the Animus Hunter Corps."
"Are you actually defending them?" Ellie whirled on him. She didn't want to have an argument in the middle of the infirmary – but by the Principle, it looked like she'd be having one somewhere. "Excusing what they did?"
"Of course not," Avalon said. "The Animus Hunters displayed treachery and brutality of the worst sort. They led your daughter into a trap and baited it in Rudolf's blood. They not only acted without the guidance of any sort of decency, they violated the spirit of law by entrapping Chloe."
"Then how can you say they'll follow the law now?" Ellie demanded.
"Because the Animus Hunters are but the enforcers of the law. President Ferrill is its final arbiter, and this case is important enough to come before her."
And Avalon did not, perhaps could not, believe the president was involved in Chloe's entrapment. Ferrill had been a mother to him. She had saved his life and she had, in a very real sense, given him a life. Without her, he would have been nothing more than a weapon. Or, more likely, a tiny corpse thrown into the trash to disguise the misdeeds of senates past. Even if he'd escaped, he would never have been treated as a full-fledged human being, much less a great man.
Ellie was glad President Ferrill had done what she had for Avalon.
She could only pray the president would be a tenth as merciful to Chloe.
Chapter 96: Captivity
Chapter 96: Captivity
Chloe wanted to scratch at the tiny hole on her neck where the Feds had injected Limiters. She couldn't. Nanomechanical constructs shackled her arms and legs to the floor of her cell.
She tried to tell herself the itch was only psychosomatic, anyway.
She figured she was fixating on it to keep her mind off the rest of her situation. On the bright side, she doubted she'd be itching much longer.
She shuddered.
More for the distraction than anything else, she said, "It'll be okay, Mili."
Milissa wasn't bound, thank the Principle, although she, too, had been given Limiters and locked into this cell by the Animus Hunters who stood watch outside, silent shadows in their weird, ominous armor.
The Kyrillos girl looked up. Her eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, and her lip trembled when she spoke. "Chloe..."
"It'll be okay," Chloe repeated. She tried to keep her voice calm and level. Maybe she was too frightened to panic, because she seemed to pull it off. "Nobody's going to hurt you."
"It's so lonely," Milissa whispered. Her shoulders shook. "It's like you're not even there."
Of course. Milissa was a natural empath, not one who could turn the effect on and off as Chloe had learned to. She'd experienced others' feelings since before she'd been old enough to have anything beyond basic sensation.
Now, thanks to the Limiters coursing through her bloodstream and sealing off her powers, Milissa couldn't feel any feelings but her own – and those couldn't be any kind of happy.
Chloe wished she could go to her friend and hold her. She wished a lot of things that weren't going to happen.
She did the next best thing. "You are not alone, Milissa."
Milissa looked up. "I know, Chloe. It's terrible for me to complain about my problems when you –"
"I don't just mean me, Mili," Chloe said. "You have Rudy, and Stephan, and even my mom, too. And Slava and Quinn and Tarkov and all the men-at-arms who've been happy to serve you. You have everybody who's ever done you a kindness and everybody you've ever done a kindness for."
"B-but, they're not here," Milissa stammered. "It's just you and me. And them." She threw a hateful glance to the Animus Hunters outside.
"The people you care about don't have to be here," Chloe said gently.
Milissa looked back to her, frowning. "I can't feel them, though."
"Sure you can. You can't feel them in your head, Mili, but you can still feel them..." For a wonder, Chloe didn't even have to force the smile onto her lips. "I'd tap my heart, but, you know."
"Yeah," Milissa said. She stared at Chloe's bonds. "I know."
"As long as you've got friends and family who love you, Mili, and Principle knows you do, you aren't ever really alone. It may feel like it, but if you close your eyes –"
Milissa did.
"– and think about the people you care about, it's the next best thing to their being with you."
A little smile formed on Milissa's face.
Its twin rested on Chloe's, at least for a few minutes.
She knelt and hung her head and closed her eyes.
Principle, she thought, this is uncomfortable. Her neck was cramped. Her arms were cramped. And that stupid injection still itched.
The Feds didn't really think the shackles would hold her, of course. If their Limiters failed, it would take at least the better part of the Animus Hunter Corps to do so. The shackles were probably meant to keep her from concentrating.
Which, she had to admit, they did a pretty good job of.
"Chloe," Milissa whispered. Chloe felt her friend's arms slide around her back and her friend's head press to her shoulder. "Thank you. So much. You're the best friend ever."
Chloe smiled at her. "If I were that, Mili, I wouldn't have dragged you into a place like this."
Milissa looked up. Cocked her head. "Actually, that's... probably true," she admitted.
"Wait a minute," Chloe said, filling her voice with mock-indignation. "Rudy and I wanted you to stay safe with your brother's people. You dragged yourself here!"
Milissa giggled. "Best. Ever."
Chloe looked away. She didn't want Milissa to see the tears welling up in her eyes. If they'd been happy ones, she'd have shared them, because Principle knew the both of them probably needed a good cry to go with the bad.
But her tears weren't happy.
They weren't for Milissa, either.
Rudy, she thought, are you okay? I never got to see if you got away. And Mom? They didn't hurt you, did they? Dad, I'm sorry I couldn't save you. Maybe Rudy still can, but... it doesn't look like he's going to win his Etemenos Cup, even if he's okay. You were right, Dad.
Rudy...
I miss you already, Chloe thought. I love you.
Stupid powers.
Stupid erinyes.
I want to marry you, Rudy. I want to get out of this and see you again. I want you to hold me like you used to. Or, she thought with a little embarrassment, not like you used to.
But, Chloe thought, it sure didn't look like any of that would happen.
Chloe wanted to scratch at the tiny hole on her neck where the Feds had injected Limiters. She couldn't. Nanomechanical constructs shackled her arms and legs to the floor of her cell.
She tried to tell herself the itch was only psychosomatic, anyway.
She figured she was fixating on it to keep her mind off the rest of her situation. On the bright side, she doubted she'd be itching much longer.
She shuddered.
More for the distraction than anything else, she said, "It'll be okay, Mili."
Milissa wasn't bound, thank the Principle, although she, too, had been given Limiters and locked into this cell by the Animus Hunters who stood watch outside, silent shadows in their weird, ominous armor.
The Kyrillos girl looked up. Her eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, and her lip trembled when she spoke. "Chloe..."
"It'll be okay," Chloe repeated. She tried to keep her voice calm and level. Maybe she was too frightened to panic, because she seemed to pull it off. "Nobody's going to hurt you."
"It's so lonely," Milissa whispered. Her shoulders shook. "It's like you're not even there."
Of course. Milissa was a natural empath, not one who could turn the effect on and off as Chloe had learned to. She'd experienced others' feelings since before she'd been old enough to have anything beyond basic sensation.
Now, thanks to the Limiters coursing through her bloodstream and sealing off her powers, Milissa couldn't feel any feelings but her own – and those couldn't be any kind of happy.
Chloe wished she could go to her friend and hold her. She wished a lot of things that weren't going to happen.
She did the next best thing. "You are not alone, Milissa."
Milissa looked up. "I know, Chloe. It's terrible for me to complain about my problems when you –"
"I don't just mean me, Mili," Chloe said. "You have Rudy, and Stephan, and even my mom, too. And Slava and Quinn and Tarkov and all the men-at-arms who've been happy to serve you. You have everybody who's ever done you a kindness and everybody you've ever done a kindness for."
"B-but, they're not here," Milissa stammered. "It's just you and me. And them." She threw a hateful glance to the Animus Hunters outside.
"The people you care about don't have to be here," Chloe said gently.
Milissa looked back to her, frowning. "I can't feel them, though."
"Sure you can. You can't feel them in your head, Mili, but you can still feel them..." For a wonder, Chloe didn't even have to force the smile onto her lips. "I'd tap my heart, but, you know."
"Yeah," Milissa said. She stared at Chloe's bonds. "I know."
"As long as you've got friends and family who love you, Mili, and Principle knows you do, you aren't ever really alone. It may feel like it, but if you close your eyes –"
Milissa did.
"– and think about the people you care about, it's the next best thing to their being with you."
A little smile formed on Milissa's face.
Its twin rested on Chloe's, at least for a few minutes.
She knelt and hung her head and closed her eyes.
Principle, she thought, this is uncomfortable. Her neck was cramped. Her arms were cramped. And that stupid injection still itched.
The Feds didn't really think the shackles would hold her, of course. If their Limiters failed, it would take at least the better part of the Animus Hunter Corps to do so. The shackles were probably meant to keep her from concentrating.
Which, she had to admit, they did a pretty good job of.
"Chloe," Milissa whispered. Chloe felt her friend's arms slide around her back and her friend's head press to her shoulder. "Thank you. So much. You're the best friend ever."
Chloe smiled at her. "If I were that, Mili, I wouldn't have dragged you into a place like this."
Milissa looked up. Cocked her head. "Actually, that's... probably true," she admitted.
"Wait a minute," Chloe said, filling her voice with mock-indignation. "Rudy and I wanted you to stay safe with your brother's people. You dragged yourself here!"
Milissa giggled. "Best. Ever."
Chloe looked away. She didn't want Milissa to see the tears welling up in her eyes. If they'd been happy ones, she'd have shared them, because Principle knew the both of them probably needed a good cry to go with the bad.
But her tears weren't happy.
They weren't for Milissa, either.
Rudy, she thought, are you okay? I never got to see if you got away. And Mom? They didn't hurt you, did they? Dad, I'm sorry I couldn't save you. Maybe Rudy still can, but... it doesn't look like he's going to win his Etemenos Cup, even if he's okay. You were right, Dad.
Rudy...
I miss you already, Chloe thought. I love you.
Stupid powers.
Stupid erinyes.
I want to marry you, Rudy. I want to get out of this and see you again. I want you to hold me like you used to. Or, she thought with a little embarrassment, not like you used to.
But, Chloe thought, it sure didn't look like any of that would happen.
Chapter 97: Honor
Chapter 97: Honor
"It's a backup, Mr. Algreil," Boss said, "and we can't promise so much without those parts you gave us for the last one, but it's the best we've got."
Rudy mumbled something that was probably thanks.
Boss put a huge hand on his arm. "Mr. Algreil... are you sure you're in a state to do this?"
Rudy shrugged the hand away. He felt...
Fine?
Yeah, right. Physically, sure. A little blood loss and a concussion were nothing a night in one of the best medical facilities on Etemenos couldn't fix. But 'fine,' he thought, isn't something I plan on having a real close acquaintance with any time soon.
Ever.
"It's something to do," Rudy said. He stalked to the boarding elevator before Boss could object and draped a palm over the button that would take him to his mecha's cockpit. It rose, silent on slick, efficient systems, until he was staring the Epee in the face.
The cockpit opened, and Rudy stepped inside.
He fell backwards into the seat and hung his head.
Ellie and Avalon had tried to get in touch with President Ferrill. They apparently hadn't had any luck. Nonetheless, Avalon was sure the president would do right by Chloe.
Avalon was a Principle-damned fool.
Nobody went through so much trouble to entrap a person they just wanted to force some Limiters on. They were terrified of Chloe. If they didn't trust her with her powers, why would they trust her to take regular injections of something that would seal them away – and probably take half her personality along with her powers?
Idiots. Bastards.
Chloe wouldn't hurt a fly, Rudy thought. She'd have never done any of you, not even the worst of you – was there any other kind? –, the slightest harm.
Hell, she wouldn't even have her powers if...
If...
Rudy slammed his fists on the armrests of the Epee's seat.
He would fight in the Finals of the Etemenos Cup.
He would defeat the Divine Auric Drake.
He would be the Etemenos Cup Champion.
He would live the dream he'd had for the better part of a decade.
He would trade every Principle-damned bit of it for just one second of holding Chloe again.
He should have listened to her dad. He should have gotten her away from Etemenos.
He and Chloe couldn't have been together as long as she needed her powers, but she could have been safe. She could have been free.
He'd give her up in a heartbeat in exchange for that.
Rudy slumped forward until his head bumped the Epee's main screen. He'd left a smear of blood on his other machine in just that spot. He supposed he was staining this one, too, by crying on it, but he could give a shit.
Marcel Avalon's voice cut through his anguish. "Crimson Phoenix," the ex-admiral said softly.
Rudy didn't respond.
Avalon said, "My friend."
Rudy cracked an eye. "The hell do you want, Marcel?"
"Are you in a condition to fight?" Avalon asked.
Rudy rolled his eyes. "Might as well. I mean, what the hell, right? What's the worst that could happen?"
The worst that could happen already had.
"Crimson Phoenix," Avalon said.
"I have a freaking name, you idiot," Rudy snarled.
"As do I," Avalon said, "but I do not address Rudolf Kaine Algreil. I address the Crimson Phoenix."
"Shut up, Marcel."
"No."
"Leave me the hell alone!" Rudy's eyes snapped up and he glared through his tears. "Just... shut up. Shut the hell up! Principle! You think I give a shit about this stupid tournament? About that stupid name?"
"No," Avalon repeated.
Rudy forced himself to take a deep breath. He blinked. He looked at Avalon through clear, or at least clearer, eyes.
The Divine Auric Drake wore a flight suit that seemed to be made of spun gold. He'd abandoned his naval uniform in favor of a pure tournament mechaneer's attire, matching his mecha. His jaw and his flinty amber eyes were set in hard lines. "You do not care about any of this," Avalon said. "I do not blame you."
"Then why are we doing this?" Rudy asked.
"Because it is a thing that deserves to be done, Crimson Phoenix," Avalon said. "It is a thing that deserves to be done right."
"Screw that," Rudy said. Shakily.
"Over our heads, your Miss Hughes is probably being escorted to the Senate chamber. They will hear her case, and they will try her. I will not lie to you. They will be quick and their judgment will be at least as harsh as the law permits."
"Chloe's probably already dead," Rudy said.
Avalon shook his head. "President Ferrill swears otherwise."
"You've talked to her?" Rudy's eyes widened. His breath quickened. "Does she know where Chloe is? Is Chloe – are she and Mili – are they okay?"
"Easy, Rudolf," Avalon said. "I spoke with the president but briefly. She does not intend your fiancée harm, but she will do as the law demands. By law, that means mandatory Limiters for both young women unless they choose to enter the Animus Hunter Corps."
"But Chloe won't need mandatory Limiters," Rudy said. "Once she and I..." He coughed. "I mean, hell, I guess I could hug Mili for a couple minutes, too. It's not like I won't be glad both of them are okay."
Avalon's hard-set mouth crinkled into a faint, brief smile. "I'm sure you will be."
"So what are we wasting time here for? Yield, and I'll even let you tag along when I go collect Chloe's dad from the Senate."
"It isn't that simple," Avalon said. "President Ferrill is not the sole power in the Senate. Errard Zelph and the senators who support him are attempting to maneuver her into a vote of no confidence. Allowing an Imperial to go free, even if she agrees to take Limiters, will not instill confidence."
"So the law goes down the crapper the minute Miz Ferrill's career is in jeopardy?"
"Of course not! But the senate session will drag on regardless, and if the partisans of the Animus Hunter Corps achieve their goal, they will kill Miss Hughes and the law be damned. You and I can stop that."
"How?"
"With the Victor's Boon," Avalon said. "If I am victorious, I will ask that the Hughes family be restored, not just its patriarch. To deny this would be political suicide when it becomes clear that none of them are any danger, a clarity Algreil Aerospace's media holdings can lend to the proceedings after you have relieved Miss Hughes of her powers."
"Sounds great, man," Rudy said. He made a mental note to ask for the same thing, since even the tiny part of his brain that hadn't despaired of saving Chloe and her dad had drawn a blank on how to rescue both. "That's all the more reason we go there now."
"No," Avalon said.
Rudy groaned. "What the hell is the hold up? I've got to save Chloe."
"The Victor's Boon must be earned, Crimson Phoenix. It cannot simply be given."
"Oh, please. There's no provision in the rules for denying a Boon to somebody just 'cause the other guy waved the white flag before the match even got started. Or if there is, I'll give you a freaking love tap before we go."
"No, Crimson Phoenix." Avalon glared. "I do not mean it must be earned because of rules."
"For politics? Screw that," Rudy snarled. "I only care about saving Chloe!"
"Listen to me, damn you! I know you are hurting and scared, Rudolf, but you have to listen."
Hurting and scared? Rudy winced a little. So much for his reputation as a badass. Not that he could bring himself to care for more than a second. Well, maybe two seconds. No more than three.
"The Victor's Boon is a recognition of the good the Etemenos Cup does for the people," Avalon said. "This tournament, all tournaments – they are neither pointless nor wasteful. In this arena, we show power and it is not abhorrent. It is for the people, that they might feel it if only vicariously, instead of it being used against them. That is no bad thing."
Rudy shrugged. "Screw the people, too, Marcel."
"Most do," Avalon said. "But I will not. You and Errard Zelph have made this tournament a thing of ugliness and brutality. Now you would make it a joke by asking me to yield before we even fight?"
"Yes," Rudy said.
Avalon said, "Why should a tournament that has given nothing to the people give anything to whoever 'wins' it?"
Rudy hesitated. "You're saying... if we do that, the senate will deny the Victor's Boon because we didn't earn it?"
"In their place," Avalon said, "I would."
So would I, Rudy thought. If I weren't me, hell, if I were me a year ago, if I didn't love Chloe, I'd be pissed as hell if some mopey bastard beat me in the Etemenos Cup and then threw the final round like it didn't mean anything.
Some mopey bastard.
Heh.
Rudy found he hated weepy men, too.
"We have the chance to redeem this Cup," Avalon said. "To make it a thing of glory, of honor. There is little enough of both around us."
Rudy found himself nodding.
"Rudolf Algreil and Marcel Avalon want the same Victor's Boon, my friend," Avalon said. "But the Crimson Phoenix and the Divine Auric Drake both want to be the one to ask for it."
"You're damn right we do," Rudy said.
"It's a backup, Mr. Algreil," Boss said, "and we can't promise so much without those parts you gave us for the last one, but it's the best we've got."
Rudy mumbled something that was probably thanks.
Boss put a huge hand on his arm. "Mr. Algreil... are you sure you're in a state to do this?"
Rudy shrugged the hand away. He felt...
Fine?
Yeah, right. Physically, sure. A little blood loss and a concussion were nothing a night in one of the best medical facilities on Etemenos couldn't fix. But 'fine,' he thought, isn't something I plan on having a real close acquaintance with any time soon.
Ever.
"It's something to do," Rudy said. He stalked to the boarding elevator before Boss could object and draped a palm over the button that would take him to his mecha's cockpit. It rose, silent on slick, efficient systems, until he was staring the Epee in the face.
The cockpit opened, and Rudy stepped inside.
He fell backwards into the seat and hung his head.
Ellie and Avalon had tried to get in touch with President Ferrill. They apparently hadn't had any luck. Nonetheless, Avalon was sure the president would do right by Chloe.
Avalon was a Principle-damned fool.
Nobody went through so much trouble to entrap a person they just wanted to force some Limiters on. They were terrified of Chloe. If they didn't trust her with her powers, why would they trust her to take regular injections of something that would seal them away – and probably take half her personality along with her powers?
Idiots. Bastards.
Chloe wouldn't hurt a fly, Rudy thought. She'd have never done any of you, not even the worst of you – was there any other kind? –, the slightest harm.
Hell, she wouldn't even have her powers if...
If...
Rudy slammed his fists on the armrests of the Epee's seat.
He would fight in the Finals of the Etemenos Cup.
He would defeat the Divine Auric Drake.
He would be the Etemenos Cup Champion.
He would live the dream he'd had for the better part of a decade.
He would trade every Principle-damned bit of it for just one second of holding Chloe again.
He should have listened to her dad. He should have gotten her away from Etemenos.
He and Chloe couldn't have been together as long as she needed her powers, but she could have been safe. She could have been free.
He'd give her up in a heartbeat in exchange for that.
Rudy slumped forward until his head bumped the Epee's main screen. He'd left a smear of blood on his other machine in just that spot. He supposed he was staining this one, too, by crying on it, but he could give a shit.
Marcel Avalon's voice cut through his anguish. "Crimson Phoenix," the ex-admiral said softly.
Rudy didn't respond.
Avalon said, "My friend."
Rudy cracked an eye. "The hell do you want, Marcel?"
"Are you in a condition to fight?" Avalon asked.
Rudy rolled his eyes. "Might as well. I mean, what the hell, right? What's the worst that could happen?"
The worst that could happen already had.
"Crimson Phoenix," Avalon said.
"I have a freaking name, you idiot," Rudy snarled.
"As do I," Avalon said, "but I do not address Rudolf Kaine Algreil. I address the Crimson Phoenix."
"Shut up, Marcel."
"No."
"Leave me the hell alone!" Rudy's eyes snapped up and he glared through his tears. "Just... shut up. Shut the hell up! Principle! You think I give a shit about this stupid tournament? About that stupid name?"
"No," Avalon repeated.
Rudy forced himself to take a deep breath. He blinked. He looked at Avalon through clear, or at least clearer, eyes.
The Divine Auric Drake wore a flight suit that seemed to be made of spun gold. He'd abandoned his naval uniform in favor of a pure tournament mechaneer's attire, matching his mecha. His jaw and his flinty amber eyes were set in hard lines. "You do not care about any of this," Avalon said. "I do not blame you."
"Then why are we doing this?" Rudy asked.
"Because it is a thing that deserves to be done, Crimson Phoenix," Avalon said. "It is a thing that deserves to be done right."
"Screw that," Rudy said. Shakily.
"Over our heads, your Miss Hughes is probably being escorted to the Senate chamber. They will hear her case, and they will try her. I will not lie to you. They will be quick and their judgment will be at least as harsh as the law permits."
"Chloe's probably already dead," Rudy said.
Avalon shook his head. "President Ferrill swears otherwise."
"You've talked to her?" Rudy's eyes widened. His breath quickened. "Does she know where Chloe is? Is Chloe – are she and Mili – are they okay?"
"Easy, Rudolf," Avalon said. "I spoke with the president but briefly. She does not intend your fiancée harm, but she will do as the law demands. By law, that means mandatory Limiters for both young women unless they choose to enter the Animus Hunter Corps."
"But Chloe won't need mandatory Limiters," Rudy said. "Once she and I..." He coughed. "I mean, hell, I guess I could hug Mili for a couple minutes, too. It's not like I won't be glad both of them are okay."
Avalon's hard-set mouth crinkled into a faint, brief smile. "I'm sure you will be."
"So what are we wasting time here for? Yield, and I'll even let you tag along when I go collect Chloe's dad from the Senate."
"It isn't that simple," Avalon said. "President Ferrill is not the sole power in the Senate. Errard Zelph and the senators who support him are attempting to maneuver her into a vote of no confidence. Allowing an Imperial to go free, even if she agrees to take Limiters, will not instill confidence."
"So the law goes down the crapper the minute Miz Ferrill's career is in jeopardy?"
"Of course not! But the senate session will drag on regardless, and if the partisans of the Animus Hunter Corps achieve their goal, they will kill Miss Hughes and the law be damned. You and I can stop that."
"How?"
"With the Victor's Boon," Avalon said. "If I am victorious, I will ask that the Hughes family be restored, not just its patriarch. To deny this would be political suicide when it becomes clear that none of them are any danger, a clarity Algreil Aerospace's media holdings can lend to the proceedings after you have relieved Miss Hughes of her powers."
"Sounds great, man," Rudy said. He made a mental note to ask for the same thing, since even the tiny part of his brain that hadn't despaired of saving Chloe and her dad had drawn a blank on how to rescue both. "That's all the more reason we go there now."
"No," Avalon said.
Rudy groaned. "What the hell is the hold up? I've got to save Chloe."
"The Victor's Boon must be earned, Crimson Phoenix. It cannot simply be given."
"Oh, please. There's no provision in the rules for denying a Boon to somebody just 'cause the other guy waved the white flag before the match even got started. Or if there is, I'll give you a freaking love tap before we go."
"No, Crimson Phoenix." Avalon glared. "I do not mean it must be earned because of rules."
"For politics? Screw that," Rudy snarled. "I only care about saving Chloe!"
"Listen to me, damn you! I know you are hurting and scared, Rudolf, but you have to listen."
Hurting and scared? Rudy winced a little. So much for his reputation as a badass. Not that he could bring himself to care for more than a second. Well, maybe two seconds. No more than three.
"The Victor's Boon is a recognition of the good the Etemenos Cup does for the people," Avalon said. "This tournament, all tournaments – they are neither pointless nor wasteful. In this arena, we show power and it is not abhorrent. It is for the people, that they might feel it if only vicariously, instead of it being used against them. That is no bad thing."
Rudy shrugged. "Screw the people, too, Marcel."
"Most do," Avalon said. "But I will not. You and Errard Zelph have made this tournament a thing of ugliness and brutality. Now you would make it a joke by asking me to yield before we even fight?"
"Yes," Rudy said.
Avalon said, "Why should a tournament that has given nothing to the people give anything to whoever 'wins' it?"
Rudy hesitated. "You're saying... if we do that, the senate will deny the Victor's Boon because we didn't earn it?"
"In their place," Avalon said, "I would."
So would I, Rudy thought. If I weren't me, hell, if I were me a year ago, if I didn't love Chloe, I'd be pissed as hell if some mopey bastard beat me in the Etemenos Cup and then threw the final round like it didn't mean anything.
Some mopey bastard.
Heh.
Rudy found he hated weepy men, too.
"We have the chance to redeem this Cup," Avalon said. "To make it a thing of glory, of honor. There is little enough of both around us."
Rudy found himself nodding.
"Rudolf Algreil and Marcel Avalon want the same Victor's Boon, my friend," Avalon said. "But the Crimson Phoenix and the Divine Auric Drake both want to be the one to ask for it."
"You're damn right we do," Rudy said.
Chapter 98: All Ours
Chapter 98: All Ours
"I think it's time," Otto said.
Jack heard the footsteps outside a second after Otto said it.
Time, all right.
Time to die.
Jack wondered if Chloe had taken his advice. He hated to think she'd let her boyfriend get killed trying to save her father, hated to think she'd fall for a guy dumb enough to try it.
She and Ellie would be okay.
They had to be.
And Jack...
He took a deep breath.
Jack wouldn't go down head bowed. It was all he could promise himself, so it would have to be enough.
He stood.
He faced the bars of the cell.
They slid open.
The body of a Fed policeman fell at Jack's feet. Blood pooled beneath the tiny holes perforating his almost-shaved scalp.
Jack's eyes widened.
A pair of Marchess Wardens stepped into the gap, one of them lowering a silent little needler pistol. Alarie Wein Marchess-Algreil, her face a little green but a nervous smile on her face, stepped between them.
Otto, who had risen from his bunk so quietly Jack hadn't even noticed him move, swept his wife into his arms and kissed her. He lifted her off her feet and spun her over the corpse and against a wall without breaking the kiss; they looked like they were about ready to tear each others' clothes off right then and there.
Jack said, "The hell?"
Otto and Alarie ignored him.
It was a good thing, Jack thought, that spacers, for all their moral strictures, were not and could not be prudes. When you came from a culture that crammed three or four generations onto a transport the size of the Mother Goose and each of those generations kept plenty busy producing the next, it was about impossible. A good thing, 'cause otherwise, he was pretty sure he'd have been real embarrassed.
As it was, he was just confused.
Finally, Otto came up for air. "Missed you, babe," he breathed.
"Otto," Alarie whispered. "It's finally over, isn't it? Those horrible years are over."
"No more pretending," Otto said. He let her go and stepped back. "But the job isn't quite finished. We're on the home stretch, but we've got some more business before pleasure."
Alarie frowned at the floor, but she nodded.
"You got everything loaded?"
Alarie nodded again. "It's all just like you said it would be, Otto. Aside from your brother coming back, I mean."
"Rudy won't be any trouble," Otto said. "If he's playing takeover games, all they are is games. Once I get back, he'll be happy to run away from anything that smells like responsibility."
"He seemed very serious about it," Alarie said. "At least, that's what my father said."
"He's in the tournament now, right?"
"Well, yes. It's amazing he managed to beat that Animus Hunter."
"He won?" Jack stared. Holy crap. That meant he and Chloe hadn't run away. If he'd won, though, maybe they didn't have to.
"Ferrill probably set Zelph up for a fall," Otto said. "Thus eliminating one of the last people who could have done a damn thing about us. I cannot wait to see the look on that bitch's face when she realizes that."
Alarie put a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. "Otto, you shouldn't say that."
"You saying you can wait?"
"No," she admitted. "President Ferrill has always terrified me."
"Then get ready to enjoy some payback, babe." Otto chuckled. "All right, people, enough chit-chat. I want to be in the Senate Chamber in time to see the look on Rudy's face when he asks for his Boon, too. Assuming he actually gets off his ass and wins this time."
"Wait just a damn minute," Jack said. He grabbed the oligarch's arm. "The hell is going on?"
Otto finally turned to him. "Remember all that stuff I told you about Etemenos, Jack? Shields so powerful an Imperial couldn't get through? Twenty thousand guns rated for anti cap-ship work? Seven rings as massive as planets and seven miniature suns to power it all? And the biggest fleet in the world-city?"
"Yeah," Jack said. "What about it?"
Otto's grin looked like it was going to split his face in half. "It's all ours, now."
"I think it's time," Otto said.
Jack heard the footsteps outside a second after Otto said it.
Time, all right.
Time to die.
Jack wondered if Chloe had taken his advice. He hated to think she'd let her boyfriend get killed trying to save her father, hated to think she'd fall for a guy dumb enough to try it.
She and Ellie would be okay.
They had to be.
And Jack...
He took a deep breath.
Jack wouldn't go down head bowed. It was all he could promise himself, so it would have to be enough.
He stood.
He faced the bars of the cell.
They slid open.
The body of a Fed policeman fell at Jack's feet. Blood pooled beneath the tiny holes perforating his almost-shaved scalp.
Jack's eyes widened.
A pair of Marchess Wardens stepped into the gap, one of them lowering a silent little needler pistol. Alarie Wein Marchess-Algreil, her face a little green but a nervous smile on her face, stepped between them.
Otto, who had risen from his bunk so quietly Jack hadn't even noticed him move, swept his wife into his arms and kissed her. He lifted her off her feet and spun her over the corpse and against a wall without breaking the kiss; they looked like they were about ready to tear each others' clothes off right then and there.
Jack said, "The hell?"
Otto and Alarie ignored him.
It was a good thing, Jack thought, that spacers, for all their moral strictures, were not and could not be prudes. When you came from a culture that crammed three or four generations onto a transport the size of the Mother Goose and each of those generations kept plenty busy producing the next, it was about impossible. A good thing, 'cause otherwise, he was pretty sure he'd have been real embarrassed.
As it was, he was just confused.
Finally, Otto came up for air. "Missed you, babe," he breathed.
"Otto," Alarie whispered. "It's finally over, isn't it? Those horrible years are over."
"No more pretending," Otto said. He let her go and stepped back. "But the job isn't quite finished. We're on the home stretch, but we've got some more business before pleasure."
Alarie frowned at the floor, but she nodded.
"You got everything loaded?"
Alarie nodded again. "It's all just like you said it would be, Otto. Aside from your brother coming back, I mean."
"Rudy won't be any trouble," Otto said. "If he's playing takeover games, all they are is games. Once I get back, he'll be happy to run away from anything that smells like responsibility."
"He seemed very serious about it," Alarie said. "At least, that's what my father said."
"He's in the tournament now, right?"
"Well, yes. It's amazing he managed to beat that Animus Hunter."
"He won?" Jack stared. Holy crap. That meant he and Chloe hadn't run away. If he'd won, though, maybe they didn't have to.
"Ferrill probably set Zelph up for a fall," Otto said. "Thus eliminating one of the last people who could have done a damn thing about us. I cannot wait to see the look on that bitch's face when she realizes that."
Alarie put a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. "Otto, you shouldn't say that."
"You saying you can wait?"
"No," she admitted. "President Ferrill has always terrified me."
"Then get ready to enjoy some payback, babe." Otto chuckled. "All right, people, enough chit-chat. I want to be in the Senate Chamber in time to see the look on Rudy's face when he asks for his Boon, too. Assuming he actually gets off his ass and wins this time."
"Wait just a damn minute," Jack said. He grabbed the oligarch's arm. "The hell is going on?"
Otto finally turned to him. "Remember all that stuff I told you about Etemenos, Jack? Shields so powerful an Imperial couldn't get through? Twenty thousand guns rated for anti cap-ship work? Seven rings as massive as planets and seven miniature suns to power it all? And the biggest fleet in the world-city?"
"Yeah," Jack said. "What about it?"
Otto's grin looked like it was going to split his face in half. "It's all ours, now."
Chapter 99: Innocence
Chapter 99: Innocence
"Miss Astroykos," Rhetta Ferrill said. She inclined her head in something that could have been respect. "Thank you for offering no resistance. I hope it will make this easier for you."
"My name is Hughes, Ma'am," Chloe said quietly.
The President of the Federal Senate looked up from behind what seemed, considering her position and the gravity of what she was doing, an awfully small desk in an awfully small office. Between Chloe, Milissa, Errard Zelph, nine other Animus Hunters and the president herself, it felt more like a mecha's cramped cockpit than the seat of power for the entire galaxy. "Pardon me," Ferrill said, "Miss Hughes."
Chloe nodded back.
She didn't understand this politeness, this shadow boxing match of politics and pawns and presidents. It was all too big for her.
She didn't understand it, and she didn't like it, either.
Ferrill glanced at Milissa. "And you must be Miss... Kyrillos, yes?"
Milissa nodded. "Y-yeah."
"Milissa is innocent," Chloe said.
Ferrill raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"
"Milissa didn't do anything." Chloe stepped forward, ignoring the tension in the armored men who held her. "She did not use any psychic powers save those outside her conscious control, and she accepted the Limiters she was given without complaint. Milissa is innocent."
A sad smile crossed Ferrill's features. "I see. Grand Admiral Zelph?"
Chloe couldn't see the Animus Hunter's scowl, but she knew it would be there.
"Have you actually charged Miss Kyrillos with any crime," Ferrill asked, "or is she here under observational custody only?"
"She is Stephan Kyrillos's sister," Zelph said, "and a collaborator with the Empress and Rudolf Algreil."
"Milissa is innocent," Chloe repeated. "She is my and Rudy's friend, but she's involved in no plot. Nor is her brother held here. Stephan, I'll give you, has done plenty wrong, but Milissa has not. Madame President, please –"
Ferrill held up a hand.
Chloe subsided.
She didn't want to meet Milissa's eyes. She knew the shock she'd see there, and the fear, new fear – fear that Chloe was going to send her away.
Milissa was right to think it would happen.
She was, had to be, wrong to be afraid of it.
"Madame President," Chloe prompted.
Ferrill nodded. "Unless Grand Admiral Zelph or his men wish to bring an actual, substantive charge against Miss Kyrillos, I believe it would be prudent for them to let her go."
"Madame President," Zelph said, "this is unwise."
Ferrill leaned over her desk, steepling her hands just beneath her eyes. Coldly, she said, "Do you have a charge, Grand Admiral?"
Zelph didn't answer.
Ferrill nodded and leaned back. "Then Miss Kyrillos is free to go."
Zelph growled something even Chloe, who was standing right in front of him, couldn't make out. But the Animus Hunters holding Milissa released her arms and stepped back.
Milissa rubbed her newly freed limbs. Her skin looked bruised where they'd gripped her. She took a step toward Chloe, hesitated when the Animus Hunters turned to look at her, then took the rest of the distance in one long step.
She wrapped her arms around Chloe's neck. "Chloe, Highness, I... I don't want to leave you here alone!"
Chloe wished she could pat the Kyrillos girl's trembling back. But the Animus Hunters were still holding her arms.
She whispered, "It's okay, Mili."
Milissa looked up.
"Remember what I told you?" Chloe smiled down at her. "We never have to be alone."
"But –"
"No 'buts,' Mili." Chloe closed her eyes. She couldn't trust them to hide the pain she was about to feel. "I want you to go watch the final match of the Etemenos Cup. I want you to see Admiral Avalon and..." Her voice broke. She kept talking. "… and Rudy."
"Rudy needs you, Chloe," Milissa said.
Chloe shook her head. "This may be the last chance you have to see him fight. I think he would want you, want his biggest fan, in the stands."
Milissa hugged Chloe tighter.
"Go on, Mili," Chloe whispered. "If... this doesn't go well... you've got to promise you'll take care of Rudy. He likes you a lot. We both do, Principle knows. You like him a lot, too. And he's going to need somebody who'll be there for him."
"Chloe," Milissa wailed.
"Promise," Chloe said, more harshly than she'd meant to.
"I promise, Chloe. I promise. Only, don't make me keep it!"
"I'm not planning on it," Chloe said. She managed to lean far enough forward to kiss the top of Milissa's head. "Now go. Before I run out of nerve and start begging you to stick around."
It wasn't much of a joke, and Milissa's chuckle sounded far more nervous than amused.
But she straightened up, squared her shoulders, and bobbed her head. She folded her hands before her. "Chloe," she said, "this is not goodbye. It's 'see you soon.'"
Chloe nodded. "See you soon, Milissa."
Without another word, her friend rushed from the office.
Chloe didn't know if they would really let Milissa go, but she had to believe they would. Why not? The Kyrillos girl didn't matter to the powers vying for control of the galaxy except as a possible bargaining chip, and they didn't need those anymore.
As far as Chloe was concerned, that said everything that needed saying about the powers vying for control of the galaxy.
Chloe waited as long as she possibly could.
Then she, too, straightened up.
She faced President Ferrill again, but she didn't meet the older woman's eyes.
Ferrill wore that sad smile again. "That was very kind of you, Miss Hughes, to spare your friend what may happen when your case goes before the full Senate."
Chloe didn't answer.
"And very brave," Ferrill continued, "to be willing to face it alone."
"You flatter me, Ma'am," Chloe said. "I wasn't thinking anything so noble."
"Oh really?" Ferrill shook her head. "I suspect you sell yourself short."
"No, Ma'am," Chloe said. "I was just thinking: 'I'm not real accurate.'"
"Miss Astroykos," Rhetta Ferrill said. She inclined her head in something that could have been respect. "Thank you for offering no resistance. I hope it will make this easier for you."
"My name is Hughes, Ma'am," Chloe said quietly.
The President of the Federal Senate looked up from behind what seemed, considering her position and the gravity of what she was doing, an awfully small desk in an awfully small office. Between Chloe, Milissa, Errard Zelph, nine other Animus Hunters and the president herself, it felt more like a mecha's cramped cockpit than the seat of power for the entire galaxy. "Pardon me," Ferrill said, "Miss Hughes."
Chloe nodded back.
She didn't understand this politeness, this shadow boxing match of politics and pawns and presidents. It was all too big for her.
She didn't understand it, and she didn't like it, either.
Ferrill glanced at Milissa. "And you must be Miss... Kyrillos, yes?"
Milissa nodded. "Y-yeah."
"Milissa is innocent," Chloe said.
Ferrill raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"
"Milissa didn't do anything." Chloe stepped forward, ignoring the tension in the armored men who held her. "She did not use any psychic powers save those outside her conscious control, and she accepted the Limiters she was given without complaint. Milissa is innocent."
A sad smile crossed Ferrill's features. "I see. Grand Admiral Zelph?"
Chloe couldn't see the Animus Hunter's scowl, but she knew it would be there.
"Have you actually charged Miss Kyrillos with any crime," Ferrill asked, "or is she here under observational custody only?"
"She is Stephan Kyrillos's sister," Zelph said, "and a collaborator with the Empress and Rudolf Algreil."
"Milissa is innocent," Chloe repeated. "She is my and Rudy's friend, but she's involved in no plot. Nor is her brother held here. Stephan, I'll give you, has done plenty wrong, but Milissa has not. Madame President, please –"
Ferrill held up a hand.
Chloe subsided.
She didn't want to meet Milissa's eyes. She knew the shock she'd see there, and the fear, new fear – fear that Chloe was going to send her away.
Milissa was right to think it would happen.
She was, had to be, wrong to be afraid of it.
"Madame President," Chloe prompted.
Ferrill nodded. "Unless Grand Admiral Zelph or his men wish to bring an actual, substantive charge against Miss Kyrillos, I believe it would be prudent for them to let her go."
"Madame President," Zelph said, "this is unwise."
Ferrill leaned over her desk, steepling her hands just beneath her eyes. Coldly, she said, "Do you have a charge, Grand Admiral?"
Zelph didn't answer.
Ferrill nodded and leaned back. "Then Miss Kyrillos is free to go."
Zelph growled something even Chloe, who was standing right in front of him, couldn't make out. But the Animus Hunters holding Milissa released her arms and stepped back.
Milissa rubbed her newly freed limbs. Her skin looked bruised where they'd gripped her. She took a step toward Chloe, hesitated when the Animus Hunters turned to look at her, then took the rest of the distance in one long step.
She wrapped her arms around Chloe's neck. "Chloe, Highness, I... I don't want to leave you here alone!"
Chloe wished she could pat the Kyrillos girl's trembling back. But the Animus Hunters were still holding her arms.
She whispered, "It's okay, Mili."
Milissa looked up.
"Remember what I told you?" Chloe smiled down at her. "We never have to be alone."
"But –"
"No 'buts,' Mili." Chloe closed her eyes. She couldn't trust them to hide the pain she was about to feel. "I want you to go watch the final match of the Etemenos Cup. I want you to see Admiral Avalon and..." Her voice broke. She kept talking. "… and Rudy."
"Rudy needs you, Chloe," Milissa said.
Chloe shook her head. "This may be the last chance you have to see him fight. I think he would want you, want his biggest fan, in the stands."
Milissa hugged Chloe tighter.
"Go on, Mili," Chloe whispered. "If... this doesn't go well... you've got to promise you'll take care of Rudy. He likes you a lot. We both do, Principle knows. You like him a lot, too. And he's going to need somebody who'll be there for him."
"Chloe," Milissa wailed.
"Promise," Chloe said, more harshly than she'd meant to.
"I promise, Chloe. I promise. Only, don't make me keep it!"
"I'm not planning on it," Chloe said. She managed to lean far enough forward to kiss the top of Milissa's head. "Now go. Before I run out of nerve and start begging you to stick around."
It wasn't much of a joke, and Milissa's chuckle sounded far more nervous than amused.
But she straightened up, squared her shoulders, and bobbed her head. She folded her hands before her. "Chloe," she said, "this is not goodbye. It's 'see you soon.'"
Chloe nodded. "See you soon, Milissa."
Without another word, her friend rushed from the office.
Chloe didn't know if they would really let Milissa go, but she had to believe they would. Why not? The Kyrillos girl didn't matter to the powers vying for control of the galaxy except as a possible bargaining chip, and they didn't need those anymore.
As far as Chloe was concerned, that said everything that needed saying about the powers vying for control of the galaxy.
Chloe waited as long as she possibly could.
Then she, too, straightened up.
She faced President Ferrill again, but she didn't meet the older woman's eyes.
Ferrill wore that sad smile again. "That was very kind of you, Miss Hughes, to spare your friend what may happen when your case goes before the full Senate."
Chloe didn't answer.
"And very brave," Ferrill continued, "to be willing to face it alone."
"You flatter me, Ma'am," Chloe said. "I wasn't thinking anything so noble."
"Oh really?" Ferrill shook her head. "I suspect you sell yourself short."
"No, Ma'am," Chloe said. "I was just thinking: 'I'm not real accurate.'"
Chapter 100: Dance
Chapter 100: Dance
Ellie sat alone in the Algreil Aerospace private box.
She watched the Crimson Phoenix and the Divine Auric Drake rise into the airless sky of Etemenos's core. They exchanged almost courtly bows. With no medium to vibrate and transmit sound, the mighty battle machines were silent. With the solid walls between the Algreil box and the stands surrounding it, the crowd was, too.
Ellie couldn't imagine either would make a sound even if she could hear them.
There was a hush over the scene, a tension in more than just the air, that she couldn't explain. Ellie felt short of breath, impatient for the match to begin and nervous it would.
She couldn't explain the feeling. Her husband would soon be executed. Her daughter would likely follow. The match above would change none of it.
Yet Ellie, not even a fan, could not look away from the mecha hovering overhead.
She could scarcely imagine what the people thronging the stands must feel.
Slowly, the mecha began to circle.
It was like watching the first movements of a masterful dance, the rising tension of each footstep blending together in tune to the music. Ellie could not hear the music Rudolf Algreil and Marcel Avalon danced to, but she imagined she could feel it.
The first blows were ritualistic. Neither combatant was even truly probing the other's defenses. Perhaps neither needed to. They knew each others' styles as well as any two men alive.
Mechaneers. Rivals. Perhaps even friends.
Ellie was glad to know them both. Someday, if the Principle were so kind as to grant the pattern to her days she could only pray for, she would even tell Rudy Algreil that.
But not just yet. First, he had to do right by her daughter for a whole lot longer than he had!
First, he needed the chance to.
Ellie supposed she was probably on the verge of tears.
With a sweep of his lance, Avalon banished them. Now it was a fight indeed, though still a slow one. When the Divine Auric Drake missed, the Crimson Phoenix just twisted out of reach and watched him rather than trying to exploit whatever small opening he might have had.
Ellie didn't know enough about combat or tournament mechaneering to know if it was the curious grace of the moment that stayed his hand, or some prudence she didn't understand.
After a few seconds, he struck back. His fist flared out, he twisted, and instead his leg was what nearly caught the Divine Auric Drake in the side of the head. Another near-miss. The Crimson Phoenix's thrusters fired laterally, turning the kick into a cartwheel and carrying him out of reach of his opponent's counterattack.
They separated, no doubt assessing one another again, or maybe just putting a beat into the rhythm of their dance.
Ellie felt she should not allow herself to embrace that rhythm, to give in to that dance. Chloe and Jack needed her. She had no right to enjoy the Etemenos Cup. She had never enjoyed a tournament before.
Any yet –
Another exchange of staccato punches, kicks and thrusts drew her attention back to the mecha overhead. The beat of dissonance only enhanced the harmony when they began to match movements, their timing perfect, their strikes ideal, their dodges, somehow, better still.
Ellie understood. She allowed herself to watch.
She knew she must be strong for her family's sake. But when it came to fighting and scheming, she felt out of her depth compared to Jack. If she tried to measure herself against geniuses of battle like the two mechaneers dueling above, or to an Imperial like her daughter and foes strong enough to give her pause, Ellie knew she might as well not even try.
She didn't have to be strong that way. She had only to do what she could to support those who were and tried to use their strength for the right reasons, those she was blessed enough to know and love.
If it was the pattern of her days to watch and wait, so be it.
She would do it to the best of her ability – and she'd make sure that when their struggles were over, the people she loved always had a home to return to.
Ellie sat alone in the Algreil Aerospace private box.
She watched the Crimson Phoenix and the Divine Auric Drake rise into the airless sky of Etemenos's core. They exchanged almost courtly bows. With no medium to vibrate and transmit sound, the mighty battle machines were silent. With the solid walls between the Algreil box and the stands surrounding it, the crowd was, too.
Ellie couldn't imagine either would make a sound even if she could hear them.
There was a hush over the scene, a tension in more than just the air, that she couldn't explain. Ellie felt short of breath, impatient for the match to begin and nervous it would.
She couldn't explain the feeling. Her husband would soon be executed. Her daughter would likely follow. The match above would change none of it.
Yet Ellie, not even a fan, could not look away from the mecha hovering overhead.
She could scarcely imagine what the people thronging the stands must feel.
Slowly, the mecha began to circle.
It was like watching the first movements of a masterful dance, the rising tension of each footstep blending together in tune to the music. Ellie could not hear the music Rudolf Algreil and Marcel Avalon danced to, but she imagined she could feel it.
The first blows were ritualistic. Neither combatant was even truly probing the other's defenses. Perhaps neither needed to. They knew each others' styles as well as any two men alive.
Mechaneers. Rivals. Perhaps even friends.
Ellie was glad to know them both. Someday, if the Principle were so kind as to grant the pattern to her days she could only pray for, she would even tell Rudy Algreil that.
But not just yet. First, he had to do right by her daughter for a whole lot longer than he had!
First, he needed the chance to.
Ellie supposed she was probably on the verge of tears.
With a sweep of his lance, Avalon banished them. Now it was a fight indeed, though still a slow one. When the Divine Auric Drake missed, the Crimson Phoenix just twisted out of reach and watched him rather than trying to exploit whatever small opening he might have had.
Ellie didn't know enough about combat or tournament mechaneering to know if it was the curious grace of the moment that stayed his hand, or some prudence she didn't understand.
After a few seconds, he struck back. His fist flared out, he twisted, and instead his leg was what nearly caught the Divine Auric Drake in the side of the head. Another near-miss. The Crimson Phoenix's thrusters fired laterally, turning the kick into a cartwheel and carrying him out of reach of his opponent's counterattack.
They separated, no doubt assessing one another again, or maybe just putting a beat into the rhythm of their dance.
Ellie felt she should not allow herself to embrace that rhythm, to give in to that dance. Chloe and Jack needed her. She had no right to enjoy the Etemenos Cup. She had never enjoyed a tournament before.
Any yet –
Another exchange of staccato punches, kicks and thrusts drew her attention back to the mecha overhead. The beat of dissonance only enhanced the harmony when they began to match movements, their timing perfect, their strikes ideal, their dodges, somehow, better still.
Ellie understood. She allowed herself to watch.
She knew she must be strong for her family's sake. But when it came to fighting and scheming, she felt out of her depth compared to Jack. If she tried to measure herself against geniuses of battle like the two mechaneers dueling above, or to an Imperial like her daughter and foes strong enough to give her pause, Ellie knew she might as well not even try.
She didn't have to be strong that way. She had only to do what she could to support those who were and tried to use their strength for the right reasons, those she was blessed enough to know and love.
If it was the pattern of her days to watch and wait, so be it.
She would do it to the best of her ability – and she'd make sure that when their struggles were over, the people she loved always had a home to return to.
Chapter 101: Love of the Game
Chapter 101: Love of the Game
Rudy had fought for his life. He had fought for Chloe. He had even fought for her parents, though he didn't know her dad and seemed unable to stammer through a dozen kind words with her mom unless he was practically falling down from painkillers. He'd been thrilled when he beat Stephan, proud when he won the first round of the Cup in record time, empty when Zelph allowed him to advance.
He'd fought for so many reasons, he'd forgotten how much fun it could be.
He had none of those reasons now. It didn't matter to Chloe, to Algreil Aerospace, or even to Rudy himself who won his match with Marcel Avalon.
It mattered to the Crimson Phoenix, though.
Rudy zipped past a flurry of flawless strikes from the monomolecular-edged lance Avalon twirled and thrust through the vacuum. He tried to land a blow on the Divine Auric Drake's vulnerable joints, but his claws didn't even scrape armor and he had to cartwheel away from a thrust that could have skewered him.
He grinned through the whole exchange.
Rudy would never have believed he could again feel about a tournament anything like the way he had before he met Chloe.
But he could.
He should.
He swept up and over Avalon's next thrust and snapped his mecha's feet together, trying to catch the lance's shaft. No luck. Avalon yanked it back, unbelievably fast.
Rudy realized how little of his full potential the Divine Auric Drake had used in their previous matches.
He realized how little the Crimson Phoenix had deserved the Etemenos Cup in his previous tries for it.
He could blame those losses on equipment failure, but he no longer believed it.
The Cup deserved a better mechaneer than he'd been, then. Maybe a better man, too.
And here he was getting all philosophical when Avalon's lance crashed through the vacuum and skimmed centimeters from his chest. If Rudy let himself get distracted again, the twist that had saved his mecha wouldn't come in time.
It seemed easy to get distracted, even though with every passing second the pace of the battle accelerated. The battle? It hardly even seemed like a battle. Rudy felt more calm and in control of himself than he'd ever been, and he knew Avalon had to feel the same to be moving so fluidly. Neither of them seemed able to even hit the other, though their jukes and dodges had to be faster with every blow the other launched.
Rudy only wished Chloe could have seen this match. He knew she didn't like tournaments, but at that moment, he was sure he and Avalon could make a fan of anyone.
No worries, he thought. She can't see me win the Etemenos Cup? By the Principle, she'll see me defend it, and that will be even better.
He had to win first, though.
He dodged three more lightning thrusts. He actually had to parry when Avalon followed them up by hurling his lance and diving after it with a punch. The blow glanced off Rudy's wrist armor, but the admiral regained his weapon and brought it up in a backstroke.
Rudy kicked off the lance's shaft, then off the Divine Auric Drake's chest. He somersaulted and triggered a barrage of rockets in his wake.
One sweep of Avalon's lance destroyed them all, using the explosion of each to trigger the one beside it.
Rudy raised an eyebrow.
It occurred to him he might actually lose to the ex-admiral.
Then he cracked a cocky grin at the Divine Auric Drake.
The Crimson Phoenix might lose.
But he wasn't gonna.
Dodge after dodge, blow after blow. They blurred together in Rudy's mind as he fell into a state almost trance-like in its simplicity. He lived in each second and embraced it and thrilled to it, until it passed and he moved on to the next and that was better still.
He realized he was winning when he actually managed to catch Avalon's lance. Neither of them had landed a solid blow. When Rudy tore the weapon from the admiral's hands and sent it hurtling away, he'd moved closer to victory than he could have with a hundred punches or a dozen deep gashes from his claws.
Avalon seemed to know it, too. The Divine Auric Drake made a feint to follow his weapon, but when the Crimson Phoenix checked it and sent him spiraling down toward the barriers keeping them from the stands instead of the core his lance had drifted to, he righted himself and floated in a defensive stance.
Rudy grinned.
He was gonna win the Etemenos Cup.
He was actually gonna win.
But Avalon, he knew, would not let him have it without a fight. The golden custom-model Wyvern might be at a disadvantage without its mechaneer's favorite weapon, but it remained one hell of a dangerous adversary for the Epee. The Divine Auric Drake retained the advantage of mass, especially in the artificial muscles of his mecha's broad chest and upper arms.
He'd try for a wrestling match now.
No reason to give him one.
No reason to give him a chance to win.
Except...
Suddenly, Rudy's palms felt sweaty. He stared at the Divine Auric Drake floating before him and cast a glance at his rear screens, where the spherical senate chamber floated like a miniature planet of smooth metal.
Where Chloe was standing trial for the crime of being herself.
No, Rudy had no reason to give Marcel Avalon a chance to win...
Except that he couldn't afford to let the ex-admiral lose.
Rudy had fought for his life. He had fought for Chloe. He had even fought for her parents, though he didn't know her dad and seemed unable to stammer through a dozen kind words with her mom unless he was practically falling down from painkillers. He'd been thrilled when he beat Stephan, proud when he won the first round of the Cup in record time, empty when Zelph allowed him to advance.
He'd fought for so many reasons, he'd forgotten how much fun it could be.
He had none of those reasons now. It didn't matter to Chloe, to Algreil Aerospace, or even to Rudy himself who won his match with Marcel Avalon.
It mattered to the Crimson Phoenix, though.
Rudy zipped past a flurry of flawless strikes from the monomolecular-edged lance Avalon twirled and thrust through the vacuum. He tried to land a blow on the Divine Auric Drake's vulnerable joints, but his claws didn't even scrape armor and he had to cartwheel away from a thrust that could have skewered him.
He grinned through the whole exchange.
Rudy would never have believed he could again feel about a tournament anything like the way he had before he met Chloe.
But he could.
He should.
He swept up and over Avalon's next thrust and snapped his mecha's feet together, trying to catch the lance's shaft. No luck. Avalon yanked it back, unbelievably fast.
Rudy realized how little of his full potential the Divine Auric Drake had used in their previous matches.
He realized how little the Crimson Phoenix had deserved the Etemenos Cup in his previous tries for it.
He could blame those losses on equipment failure, but he no longer believed it.
The Cup deserved a better mechaneer than he'd been, then. Maybe a better man, too.
And here he was getting all philosophical when Avalon's lance crashed through the vacuum and skimmed centimeters from his chest. If Rudy let himself get distracted again, the twist that had saved his mecha wouldn't come in time.
It seemed easy to get distracted, even though with every passing second the pace of the battle accelerated. The battle? It hardly even seemed like a battle. Rudy felt more calm and in control of himself than he'd ever been, and he knew Avalon had to feel the same to be moving so fluidly. Neither of them seemed able to even hit the other, though their jukes and dodges had to be faster with every blow the other launched.
Rudy only wished Chloe could have seen this match. He knew she didn't like tournaments, but at that moment, he was sure he and Avalon could make a fan of anyone.
No worries, he thought. She can't see me win the Etemenos Cup? By the Principle, she'll see me defend it, and that will be even better.
He had to win first, though.
He dodged three more lightning thrusts. He actually had to parry when Avalon followed them up by hurling his lance and diving after it with a punch. The blow glanced off Rudy's wrist armor, but the admiral regained his weapon and brought it up in a backstroke.
Rudy kicked off the lance's shaft, then off the Divine Auric Drake's chest. He somersaulted and triggered a barrage of rockets in his wake.
One sweep of Avalon's lance destroyed them all, using the explosion of each to trigger the one beside it.
Rudy raised an eyebrow.
It occurred to him he might actually lose to the ex-admiral.
Then he cracked a cocky grin at the Divine Auric Drake.
The Crimson Phoenix might lose.
But he wasn't gonna.
Dodge after dodge, blow after blow. They blurred together in Rudy's mind as he fell into a state almost trance-like in its simplicity. He lived in each second and embraced it and thrilled to it, until it passed and he moved on to the next and that was better still.
He realized he was winning when he actually managed to catch Avalon's lance. Neither of them had landed a solid blow. When Rudy tore the weapon from the admiral's hands and sent it hurtling away, he'd moved closer to victory than he could have with a hundred punches or a dozen deep gashes from his claws.
Avalon seemed to know it, too. The Divine Auric Drake made a feint to follow his weapon, but when the Crimson Phoenix checked it and sent him spiraling down toward the barriers keeping them from the stands instead of the core his lance had drifted to, he righted himself and floated in a defensive stance.
Rudy grinned.
He was gonna win the Etemenos Cup.
He was actually gonna win.
But Avalon, he knew, would not let him have it without a fight. The golden custom-model Wyvern might be at a disadvantage without its mechaneer's favorite weapon, but it remained one hell of a dangerous adversary for the Epee. The Divine Auric Drake retained the advantage of mass, especially in the artificial muscles of his mecha's broad chest and upper arms.
He'd try for a wrestling match now.
No reason to give him one.
No reason to give him a chance to win.
Except...
Suddenly, Rudy's palms felt sweaty. He stared at the Divine Auric Drake floating before him and cast a glance at his rear screens, where the spherical senate chamber floated like a miniature planet of smooth metal.
Where Chloe was standing trial for the crime of being herself.
No, Rudy had no reason to give Marcel Avalon a chance to win...
Except that he couldn't afford to let the ex-admiral lose.
Chapter 102: Limitless
Chapter 102: Limitless
Chloe gave neither President Ferrill nor the Animus Hunters a chance to parse her words.
With a thought, the dark-armored hands grasping her spasmed away. With another, their owners crashed into the walls of the president's office. With a third, seven of the remaining eight Animus Hunters flew backwards to crumple beside the first pair.
Chloe hadn't expected it to be so easy. Effortless. She could suddenly understand why people coveted the Imperials' power, her power – and why people feared it. Just that taste was as easy as breathing and as wonderful as a sunny summer day, and she could have poured on a thousand times as much.
And, Principle willing, she would be rid of it very soon.
President Ferrill watched her, eyebrow raised, neither moving nor speaking and seemingly unconcerned. "I thought, Grand Admiral, you had the young lady Limited."
"I did," Errard Zelph said. "I injected her myself."
Chloe turned to face the Grand Admiral, foremost of the Animus Hunters. He was more than a head taller than her. With his bland, bureaucratic face curled into a scowl above his weird organic armor, he looked like an enfleshed demon.
Slowly, casually, Chloe held her hand up to her neck.
A line of silver liquid seeped from her pores. It seemed to fold back into her skin, unsheathing a few drops of yellow fluid that dried to an itchy crust almost instantly on contact with the air – the nanomechanical limiters the Animus Hunters had tried to inject her with. Her erinyes had had other ideas.
Zelph's scowl quirked up into a parody of a smile. "Very clever."
Chloe cocked her head and her eyebrow and reached out to flick him away as she had his subordinates.
Somewhere between her and the Animus Hunter, the telekinetic wave bent, doubled over, and nearly hurled her into the wall.
Chloe's calm smile froze on her face.
Apparently, it wasn't going to be as easy as it had seemed for a moment.
President Ferrill sighed. "You are making a mistake, Miss Hughes. If you stand down now, you may still –"
The president's mouth kept moving, but no sound reached Chloe's ears. She stopped, frowned at Zelph, spoke again – silently.
Chloe pressed against the air around her. Her probe bounced back, and when she pushed, she felt a double layer of psion shells separating the air, a molecule-thin bubble of vacuum, impermeable to sound.
It was subtle, it was clever, and it was perfectly, artfully, invisibly done. Even with as little understanding as she had, Chloe had to admire the technique.
She looked back to Zelph and realized for the first time how much of his power he must have been hiding behind that facade of light-bending psions. He played the thug, but he was something much worse.
"This is no longer President Ferrill's concern," the Animus Hunter said.
"I know why you're doing this," Chloe said.
"Oh?"
"Megaera showed me what happened on the battlecruiser," she said. "I know you loved my – Empress Karissa. You turned against the imperial system because she had to marry the Emperor, and against him when she actually did love him."
Zelph waited, unmoving. Chloe might have been able to read his mind if she forced it, but she couldn't get anything from his face.
Not, she thought, that she needed to.
"You're still trying to make up for what happened to her," Chloe continued. "You have to either prove to yourself you were right, or atone for being wrong. To either finish what you started, or make me finish you for the way you betrayed her."
Zelph closed his eyes, nodded again. "Very good, Miss Hughes. You observed, interpreted, and derived logical conclusions from what you saw. Yours is a neat analysis of the situation, and the psychology you describe an entirely reasonable explanation for my actions."
"You don't have to do this," Chloe said. "You –"
It is also, Zelph thought, entirely wrong.
She flinched from his presence in her mind.
Your mistake, he continued, effortlessly slipping through the telepathic shields she tried to raise, was in assigning to me a psychology with which you were familiar. A Spacer's rooted in family and crew bonding, or a noble's rooted in house and bloodline, or the all-consuming puppy love you share with Rudolf Algreil.
Chloe was vaguely aware she'd sunk to her knees. Alien feelings surged through her brain, confusing, repulsive.
I did love Karissa, Zelph thought. But unlike the people of your experience, that love was not central to my character. It was a motive, but a minor one.
Chloe tried to shout, I don't believe you!
But she did.
The thoughts pouring into her proved it.
I was a revolutionary, Zelph thought, long before Karissa was lost to me. I have come to believe Theophilos competed for her affections fairly and made her happier than I would have. He would have been welcome to her.
But he was not welcome to dominate humanity.
I don't understand, Chloe thought.
I am an idealist, Miss Hughes, daughter of the imperial line whose name you – rightly – reject. I believe in a precept greater than people.
I betrayed Karissa's trust because humanity mattered more to me than any one human – even her. She swore all her life she did not want the mantle of empress, but when I tried to take it from her, to free her from its burden, she fought. She risked your life, lost her own and killed thousands by trying to use the very power she claimed to hate.
She didn't want that –
She failed, Miss Hughes. As you will.
I fought Theophilos because he would have sooner given up his life than either his title or the unearned vengeance he swore against the House of Commons. I led the first Animus Hunters at the Battle of Etemenos, not to kill a rival for love, but to destroy an impediment to freedom. Even then I would have taken his surrender, but he would not give it.
He died for his hubris, Miss Hughes.
Zelph met Chloe's eyes. He held her shaking gaze as easily as if his gauntleted hand clasped her by the chin.
He thought:
As you will.
Chloe gave neither President Ferrill nor the Animus Hunters a chance to parse her words.
With a thought, the dark-armored hands grasping her spasmed away. With another, their owners crashed into the walls of the president's office. With a third, seven of the remaining eight Animus Hunters flew backwards to crumple beside the first pair.
Chloe hadn't expected it to be so easy. Effortless. She could suddenly understand why people coveted the Imperials' power, her power – and why people feared it. Just that taste was as easy as breathing and as wonderful as a sunny summer day, and she could have poured on a thousand times as much.
And, Principle willing, she would be rid of it very soon.
President Ferrill watched her, eyebrow raised, neither moving nor speaking and seemingly unconcerned. "I thought, Grand Admiral, you had the young lady Limited."
"I did," Errard Zelph said. "I injected her myself."
Chloe turned to face the Grand Admiral, foremost of the Animus Hunters. He was more than a head taller than her. With his bland, bureaucratic face curled into a scowl above his weird organic armor, he looked like an enfleshed demon.
Slowly, casually, Chloe held her hand up to her neck.
A line of silver liquid seeped from her pores. It seemed to fold back into her skin, unsheathing a few drops of yellow fluid that dried to an itchy crust almost instantly on contact with the air – the nanomechanical limiters the Animus Hunters had tried to inject her with. Her erinyes had had other ideas.
Zelph's scowl quirked up into a parody of a smile. "Very clever."
Chloe cocked her head and her eyebrow and reached out to flick him away as she had his subordinates.
Somewhere between her and the Animus Hunter, the telekinetic wave bent, doubled over, and nearly hurled her into the wall.
Chloe's calm smile froze on her face.
Apparently, it wasn't going to be as easy as it had seemed for a moment.
President Ferrill sighed. "You are making a mistake, Miss Hughes. If you stand down now, you may still –"
The president's mouth kept moving, but no sound reached Chloe's ears. She stopped, frowned at Zelph, spoke again – silently.
Chloe pressed against the air around her. Her probe bounced back, and when she pushed, she felt a double layer of psion shells separating the air, a molecule-thin bubble of vacuum, impermeable to sound.
It was subtle, it was clever, and it was perfectly, artfully, invisibly done. Even with as little understanding as she had, Chloe had to admire the technique.
She looked back to Zelph and realized for the first time how much of his power he must have been hiding behind that facade of light-bending psions. He played the thug, but he was something much worse.
"This is no longer President Ferrill's concern," the Animus Hunter said.
"I know why you're doing this," Chloe said.
"Oh?"
"Megaera showed me what happened on the battlecruiser," she said. "I know you loved my – Empress Karissa. You turned against the imperial system because she had to marry the Emperor, and against him when she actually did love him."
Zelph waited, unmoving. Chloe might have been able to read his mind if she forced it, but she couldn't get anything from his face.
Not, she thought, that she needed to.
"You're still trying to make up for what happened to her," Chloe continued. "You have to either prove to yourself you were right, or atone for being wrong. To either finish what you started, or make me finish you for the way you betrayed her."
Zelph closed his eyes, nodded again. "Very good, Miss Hughes. You observed, interpreted, and derived logical conclusions from what you saw. Yours is a neat analysis of the situation, and the psychology you describe an entirely reasonable explanation for my actions."
"You don't have to do this," Chloe said. "You –"
It is also, Zelph thought, entirely wrong.
She flinched from his presence in her mind.
Your mistake, he continued, effortlessly slipping through the telepathic shields she tried to raise, was in assigning to me a psychology with which you were familiar. A Spacer's rooted in family and crew bonding, or a noble's rooted in house and bloodline, or the all-consuming puppy love you share with Rudolf Algreil.
Chloe was vaguely aware she'd sunk to her knees. Alien feelings surged through her brain, confusing, repulsive.
I did love Karissa, Zelph thought. But unlike the people of your experience, that love was not central to my character. It was a motive, but a minor one.
Chloe tried to shout, I don't believe you!
But she did.
The thoughts pouring into her proved it.
I was a revolutionary, Zelph thought, long before Karissa was lost to me. I have come to believe Theophilos competed for her affections fairly and made her happier than I would have. He would have been welcome to her.
But he was not welcome to dominate humanity.
I don't understand, Chloe thought.
I am an idealist, Miss Hughes, daughter of the imperial line whose name you – rightly – reject. I believe in a precept greater than people.
I betrayed Karissa's trust because humanity mattered more to me than any one human – even her. She swore all her life she did not want the mantle of empress, but when I tried to take it from her, to free her from its burden, she fought. She risked your life, lost her own and killed thousands by trying to use the very power she claimed to hate.
She didn't want that –
She failed, Miss Hughes. As you will.
I fought Theophilos because he would have sooner given up his life than either his title or the unearned vengeance he swore against the House of Commons. I led the first Animus Hunters at the Battle of Etemenos, not to kill a rival for love, but to destroy an impediment to freedom. Even then I would have taken his surrender, but he would not give it.
He died for his hubris, Miss Hughes.
Zelph met Chloe's eyes. He held her shaking gaze as easily as if his gauntleted hand clasped her by the chin.
He thought:
As you will.
Chapter 103: Coup
Chapter 103: Coup
A dozen Marchess Wardens in marine armor saluted as Otto and Alarie stepped onto the bridge of the Pacific Resolution, and for a wonder they didn't drop their gauntleted hands to their sides until after Jack had passed, too.
Well, why not? The Devil Ray flight suit he wore proclaimed him a commodore.
The flag rank made him want to worm his way out of the suit, but he was damned glad to have it. Months in prison fabrics had reminded him just how uncomfortable and unresponsive groundling clothes could be. Any flight suit was a blessing.
Still, he fingered the collar. If he popped the insignia off, would anybody notice?
"Jack." Otto was looking down his nose at the platinum manta-ray under Jack's thumb and forefinger. The Oligarch didn't say to quit fiddling with it, but then, he didn't have to.
"Uh." Jack forced his hand down and looked at the Pacific Resolution's immense main screen.
With Etemenos's powerful fixed defenses on the second ring disabled by a computer virus from the Marchesses, the United Shipping Magnate battleship packed more firepower than anything inside the world-city. The Feds hadn't just let it in. They'd welcomed it with open arms, along with the rest of the Marchess corporate fleet. On screen, the 'prize fleet' captured from Otto's rebel faction flared engines as one ship after another came online.
The combined Oligarchical fleets outnumbered the Feds' First Fleet at least two to one, outgunned them by more. With the impenetrable shields of Etemenos at their backs and the Feds in disarray ahead, the Pacific Resolution's name made a hell of a lot more sense.
Jack wondered if the Feds would even try to fight back.
Even though he wasn't sure Otto winning was a good thing, he sure as hell hoped not. Every stray capital ship shell would impact some part of a world-city packed with civilians. Unless they'd found some way to escape, his wife and daughter were probably still somewhere in said world-city.
Which meant...
Jack could have kicked himself. He'd been without a flight suit so long, he'd almost forgotten what wearing one meant.
He raised the mask of his suit. Even more than the comforts of the suit itself, the interior heads-up display was a welcome sight. Especially the communications suite he jumped to. Ellie and Chloe had both been wearing their suits when he'd last seen them. If they still were, he could –
"Jack?" Ellie's wide, tilting eyes filled his vision and her voice his ears.
"Hiya, Hon," he said hoarsely.
If she could hear him and respond in real time, she, and by extension Chloe, were still on Etemenos.
"Where are you? How are you calling me?" From the way her eyes flicked around, she expected to get an answer from the room around her.
"From my very own commodore's flight suit." Jack transmitted a still shot his suit took from the Pacific Resolution's bridge cameras. Otto at the con in his garish blue-and-red harlequin flight suit, Alarie on his right, Jack his left, an Oligarchical crew surrounding them.
Ellie stared.
Blinked.
Asked, "How?"
"I'd say I was sure if I was. From what I gather, this – all of this, the Marchess betrayal, us getting captured – was part of Otto's plan." Jack glanced at the oligarch. Apparently, he didn't mind the information being passed on. He waved for Jack to continue. "Suck the Senate into trusting half the oligarchy, then spring the prize fleet with the victorious fleet."
"And with most of Etemenos focused on the Cup," Ellie began.
"Nobody's minding the store," Jack finished.
It was a hell of a plan.
Jack only saw one problem with it. "Where are you, Ellie? Where's Chloe?" Reluctantly, he added, "And Otto's little brother?"
"I'm in the Algreil Aerospace booth," Ellie said. "Rudy is fighting in the Cup right now."
So he hadn't run away. Damned fool – but if he was still fighting in the Finals, a finer mechaneer than Jack could have imagined. "He beat Zelph?"
"He..." Ellie's voice broke.
Oh, crap. Jack repeated, "Where's Chloe?"
"They took her, Jack," Ellie said. "I couldn't stop them. She – either couldn't or wouldn't. Principle help me, Jack, the Animus Hunters –"
"Where," Jack growled. To Otto, he said, "We've got a problem."
But the oligarch only quirked an eyebrow and kept watching the main screen. If he was keeping tabs on Jack's conversation, he didn't sweat it any.
"To the president's office," Ellie said. "Chloe is to go on trial before the full Senate. She may already be."
"The senators," Otto said, "have more pressing concerns."
Jack's HUD split to admit the image of his once-and-current boss. Since he could turn to look at Otto in person, he minimized the display.
"As soon as we've made contact with our people inside the senate chamber," Otto continued, "I somehow doubt they'll bother giving your adopted daughter any more trouble. No use worrying about an imperial claimant taking over their government when said government is about to surrender to me, now is there?"
Ellie's gaze never flicked to where Otto must have appeared on her screen. "Is that really true, Jack? The Senate is going to give in?"
"That's the plan," Jack said. He thought, how the hell do I know if it's gonna work?
"Speaking of which..." Otto turned to the Pacific Resolution's quartet of communications officers. "Gentlemen, where are our senators?"
The coms chief turned, frowning. "I'm sorry, Mr. Algreil, but we haven't be able to reach any of the senators Mrs. Marchess-Algreil instructed us to contact."
Otto's eyes narrowed. "Alarie? What about your dad?"
"I'm sure I don't know, Otto," Alarie said. "I haven't heard anything from him since the signal to break you and the other prisoners out."
"He was supposed to be attending the Senate session," Otto said. "Coms, what's the chatter coming out of the Senate? Isolate it from the tournament crap and personal broadcasts. We have their private frequencies, right?"
"That's the trouble, Mr. Algreil," the coms chief said. "There is no chatter from the senate chamber."
Jack met Ellie's eyes. Neither spoke or even messaged, but he could see his worries mirrored in his wife's face.
I sure hope, Jack thought, Chloe hasn't done something rash.
A dozen Marchess Wardens in marine armor saluted as Otto and Alarie stepped onto the bridge of the Pacific Resolution, and for a wonder they didn't drop their gauntleted hands to their sides until after Jack had passed, too.
Well, why not? The Devil Ray flight suit he wore proclaimed him a commodore.
The flag rank made him want to worm his way out of the suit, but he was damned glad to have it. Months in prison fabrics had reminded him just how uncomfortable and unresponsive groundling clothes could be. Any flight suit was a blessing.
Still, he fingered the collar. If he popped the insignia off, would anybody notice?
"Jack." Otto was looking down his nose at the platinum manta-ray under Jack's thumb and forefinger. The Oligarch didn't say to quit fiddling with it, but then, he didn't have to.
"Uh." Jack forced his hand down and looked at the Pacific Resolution's immense main screen.
With Etemenos's powerful fixed defenses on the second ring disabled by a computer virus from the Marchesses, the United Shipping Magnate battleship packed more firepower than anything inside the world-city. The Feds hadn't just let it in. They'd welcomed it with open arms, along with the rest of the Marchess corporate fleet. On screen, the 'prize fleet' captured from Otto's rebel faction flared engines as one ship after another came online.
The combined Oligarchical fleets outnumbered the Feds' First Fleet at least two to one, outgunned them by more. With the impenetrable shields of Etemenos at their backs and the Feds in disarray ahead, the Pacific Resolution's name made a hell of a lot more sense.
Jack wondered if the Feds would even try to fight back.
Even though he wasn't sure Otto winning was a good thing, he sure as hell hoped not. Every stray capital ship shell would impact some part of a world-city packed with civilians. Unless they'd found some way to escape, his wife and daughter were probably still somewhere in said world-city.
Which meant...
Jack could have kicked himself. He'd been without a flight suit so long, he'd almost forgotten what wearing one meant.
He raised the mask of his suit. Even more than the comforts of the suit itself, the interior heads-up display was a welcome sight. Especially the communications suite he jumped to. Ellie and Chloe had both been wearing their suits when he'd last seen them. If they still were, he could –
"Jack?" Ellie's wide, tilting eyes filled his vision and her voice his ears.
"Hiya, Hon," he said hoarsely.
If she could hear him and respond in real time, she, and by extension Chloe, were still on Etemenos.
"Where are you? How are you calling me?" From the way her eyes flicked around, she expected to get an answer from the room around her.
"From my very own commodore's flight suit." Jack transmitted a still shot his suit took from the Pacific Resolution's bridge cameras. Otto at the con in his garish blue-and-red harlequin flight suit, Alarie on his right, Jack his left, an Oligarchical crew surrounding them.
Ellie stared.
Blinked.
Asked, "How?"
"I'd say I was sure if I was. From what I gather, this – all of this, the Marchess betrayal, us getting captured – was part of Otto's plan." Jack glanced at the oligarch. Apparently, he didn't mind the information being passed on. He waved for Jack to continue. "Suck the Senate into trusting half the oligarchy, then spring the prize fleet with the victorious fleet."
"And with most of Etemenos focused on the Cup," Ellie began.
"Nobody's minding the store," Jack finished.
It was a hell of a plan.
Jack only saw one problem with it. "Where are you, Ellie? Where's Chloe?" Reluctantly, he added, "And Otto's little brother?"
"I'm in the Algreil Aerospace booth," Ellie said. "Rudy is fighting in the Cup right now."
So he hadn't run away. Damned fool – but if he was still fighting in the Finals, a finer mechaneer than Jack could have imagined. "He beat Zelph?"
"He..." Ellie's voice broke.
Oh, crap. Jack repeated, "Where's Chloe?"
"They took her, Jack," Ellie said. "I couldn't stop them. She – either couldn't or wouldn't. Principle help me, Jack, the Animus Hunters –"
"Where," Jack growled. To Otto, he said, "We've got a problem."
But the oligarch only quirked an eyebrow and kept watching the main screen. If he was keeping tabs on Jack's conversation, he didn't sweat it any.
"To the president's office," Ellie said. "Chloe is to go on trial before the full Senate. She may already be."
"The senators," Otto said, "have more pressing concerns."
Jack's HUD split to admit the image of his once-and-current boss. Since he could turn to look at Otto in person, he minimized the display.
"As soon as we've made contact with our people inside the senate chamber," Otto continued, "I somehow doubt they'll bother giving your adopted daughter any more trouble. No use worrying about an imperial claimant taking over their government when said government is about to surrender to me, now is there?"
Ellie's gaze never flicked to where Otto must have appeared on her screen. "Is that really true, Jack? The Senate is going to give in?"
"That's the plan," Jack said. He thought, how the hell do I know if it's gonna work?
"Speaking of which..." Otto turned to the Pacific Resolution's quartet of communications officers. "Gentlemen, where are our senators?"
The coms chief turned, frowning. "I'm sorry, Mr. Algreil, but we haven't be able to reach any of the senators Mrs. Marchess-Algreil instructed us to contact."
Otto's eyes narrowed. "Alarie? What about your dad?"
"I'm sure I don't know, Otto," Alarie said. "I haven't heard anything from him since the signal to break you and the other prisoners out."
"He was supposed to be attending the Senate session," Otto said. "Coms, what's the chatter coming out of the Senate? Isolate it from the tournament crap and personal broadcasts. We have their private frequencies, right?"
"That's the trouble, Mr. Algreil," the coms chief said. "There is no chatter from the senate chamber."
Jack met Ellie's eyes. Neither spoke or even messaged, but he could see his worries mirrored in his wife's face.
I sure hope, Jack thought, Chloe hasn't done something rash.
Chapter 104: You Have To
Chapter 104: You Have To
Rudy flicked on his communications suite. "Marcel," he said.
The ex-admiral nodded in acknowledgment. "Crimson Phoenix."
"No," Rudy said. "It's Rudy Algreil. I'm not talking as a tournament mechaneer."
Avalon frowned. "You have not defeated me yet, my friend. You may yet not do so."
"You're right," Rudy said.
He took a deep breath.
He closed his eyes.
He said, "You have to beat me."
"What?"
"You have to take me down in this fight, Marcel," Rudy said. "Kick my ass back to Algreil Prime. Stomp me into the ground. All that stuff."
"What's gotten into you? Why would you ask such a thing?"
Rudy opened his eyes and looked the admiral in his. "Because if I keep winning and take the Cup, the Federal Senate will claim I won because Chloe interfered. They'll use it as grounds to deny my Victor's Boon – and they'll kill her, Marcel."
"She has not done so," Avalon said. "Any fair viewing –"
"You're crazy if you expect a 'fair viewing,'" Rudy said, "but even if you were right, Chloe did interfere. Not against you, but against Zelph."
"And you," Avalon said, "were not disqualified before this round so that the senators who wish your fiancé harm would have an excuse to deny your Boon."
Rudy nodded.
Avalon's jaw clenched.
"You think it sucks for you, man, try being the one who has to lose." And, Rudy thought, the one with so much to lose.
He didn't know if Avalon could save Chloe with his Victor's Boon.
He knew he couldn't.
For even a chance, even the tiniest chance, that the ex-admiral could save her and give her back her family, Rudy would throw away every tournament he ever could have won.
Besides...
"Marcel," he said, "don't worry about it."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't care if I win or lose," Rudy said.
"How can you say that?" Avalon swept a hand around to take in the vast arena. "You have fought magnificently, Crimson Phoenix. You deserve a chance at victory. They should not take that from you."
"You know I kicked your ass, Marcel," Rudy said. "You know I fought the best I could. And vice versa."
Avalon nodded.
"So who cares who walks away with the stupid trophy?" Rudy grinned. "This way, I get to lord it over you for the rest of our lives how I had to throw the match you beat me in."
Avalon laughed. "You are rationalizing, my friend."
"But am I wrong?"
"Perhaps not." Avalon bowed his head. His mecha mimicked the gesture.
Rudy returned it.
"In that case," Avalon began.
Before he finished the sentence, he'd crossed the distance between them and thrust his mecha's palm out. Rudy hurtled backwards, but not fast enough to get away from the rocketing golden mecha. He instinctively brought his hand up to block, but Avalon was under his defenses now, trapping the Epee's arms under the golden mecha's sturdy armpits.
"I had best make it convincing," Avalon finished, as he slammed their mechas' heads together.
Rudy reeled. He regained his balance and met the ex-admiral's next blow with a grin – until his block turned into a terrible mistake and his mecha's wrist was yanked forward and another bone-jarring slap of the Divine Auric Drake's palm rocked its chest.
The golden mecha's hand pulled back, rose till it was level with Rudy's mecha's head, paused.
"I suggest," Avalon said, "you yield."
Son of a bitch, Rudy thought. He actually beat me.
So much for needling him for the rest of his life.
"Well played, Divine Auric Drake," Rudy said. He inclined his mecha's head again and pressed the red 'yield' button in its cockpit. The familiar crimson light flashed on his screen. Familiar from other people's surrenders, anyway – Rudy realized he'd never seen what it looked like from the transmitting end.
Seeing it now almost seemed worth it.
Rudy flicked on his communications suite. "Marcel," he said.
The ex-admiral nodded in acknowledgment. "Crimson Phoenix."
"No," Rudy said. "It's Rudy Algreil. I'm not talking as a tournament mechaneer."
Avalon frowned. "You have not defeated me yet, my friend. You may yet not do so."
"You're right," Rudy said.
He took a deep breath.
He closed his eyes.
He said, "You have to beat me."
"What?"
"You have to take me down in this fight, Marcel," Rudy said. "Kick my ass back to Algreil Prime. Stomp me into the ground. All that stuff."
"What's gotten into you? Why would you ask such a thing?"
Rudy opened his eyes and looked the admiral in his. "Because if I keep winning and take the Cup, the Federal Senate will claim I won because Chloe interfered. They'll use it as grounds to deny my Victor's Boon – and they'll kill her, Marcel."
"She has not done so," Avalon said. "Any fair viewing –"
"You're crazy if you expect a 'fair viewing,'" Rudy said, "but even if you were right, Chloe did interfere. Not against you, but against Zelph."
"And you," Avalon said, "were not disqualified before this round so that the senators who wish your fiancé harm would have an excuse to deny your Boon."
Rudy nodded.
Avalon's jaw clenched.
"You think it sucks for you, man, try being the one who has to lose." And, Rudy thought, the one with so much to lose.
He didn't know if Avalon could save Chloe with his Victor's Boon.
He knew he couldn't.
For even a chance, even the tiniest chance, that the ex-admiral could save her and give her back her family, Rudy would throw away every tournament he ever could have won.
Besides...
"Marcel," he said, "don't worry about it."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't care if I win or lose," Rudy said.
"How can you say that?" Avalon swept a hand around to take in the vast arena. "You have fought magnificently, Crimson Phoenix. You deserve a chance at victory. They should not take that from you."
"You know I kicked your ass, Marcel," Rudy said. "You know I fought the best I could. And vice versa."
Avalon nodded.
"So who cares who walks away with the stupid trophy?" Rudy grinned. "This way, I get to lord it over you for the rest of our lives how I had to throw the match you beat me in."
Avalon laughed. "You are rationalizing, my friend."
"But am I wrong?"
"Perhaps not." Avalon bowed his head. His mecha mimicked the gesture.
Rudy returned it.
"In that case," Avalon began.
Before he finished the sentence, he'd crossed the distance between them and thrust his mecha's palm out. Rudy hurtled backwards, but not fast enough to get away from the rocketing golden mecha. He instinctively brought his hand up to block, but Avalon was under his defenses now, trapping the Epee's arms under the golden mecha's sturdy armpits.
"I had best make it convincing," Avalon finished, as he slammed their mechas' heads together.
Rudy reeled. He regained his balance and met the ex-admiral's next blow with a grin – until his block turned into a terrible mistake and his mecha's wrist was yanked forward and another bone-jarring slap of the Divine Auric Drake's palm rocked its chest.
The golden mecha's hand pulled back, rose till it was level with Rudy's mecha's head, paused.
"I suggest," Avalon said, "you yield."
Son of a bitch, Rudy thought. He actually beat me.
So much for needling him for the rest of his life.
"Well played, Divine Auric Drake," Rudy said. He inclined his mecha's head again and pressed the red 'yield' button in its cockpit. The familiar crimson light flashed on his screen. Familiar from other people's surrenders, anyway – Rudy realized he'd never seen what it looked like from the transmitting end.
Seeing it now almost seemed worth it.
Chapter 105: Power
Chapter 105: Power
Chloe knew her power had to surpass Zelph's. Nothing else made sense. She was the daughter of a pair of imperials, the first such in centuries. She wore an erinyes, the mecha, armor and weapon of her ancestors.
And yet:
When she tried to shut Zelph's telepathy from her mind, she could not bar him.
When she tried to hurl waves of telekinetic force at him, she could not hit him.
When she tried to so much as sense his presence, she could not feel him.
Everything that had been easy and pleasant about her power suddenly seemed terrifying. All she really knew about it was what Milissa had taught her, and Mili was anything but a fighter. All she intuited came from Megaera, and the erinyes seemed incapable of communicating in anything but metaphor and half-glimpsed dream imagery. Chloe didn't even know if what she gleaned from it was its intention or a side effect of using it.
She felt herself lifted from the floor of Rhetta Ferrill's office. She lashed out at the lines of force between her and Zelph, but her attack passed through empty air.
As the telekinesis bit into Chloe's erinyes-sheathed body, she cried, "How are you doing this?"
He didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
Chloe realized she'd finally asked the right question.
A wave of power, omnidirectional, broke Zelph's hold and hoisted her momentarily upwards. She floated slowly to the floor and faced him.
Chloe had wielded her telekinesis like a club, at best. Zelph's danced, dozens of invisible whips and tendrils. He had to have incredible concentration to maintain them all at once, but in accepting that degree of difficulty, he acquired the ability to strike from seemingly impossible angles and penetrate otherwise invincible shields.
Chloe couldn't have matched his precision without years, decades, of training. Perhaps it would always elude her.
Now that she understood his methods, though, she could fight them. She waited for his attack to come and allowed herself a tight smile when it impacted against a hemisphere of force she rotated too fast to allow it to miss even an attack at the speed of thought.
Her smile vanished as quickly as it had formed. Zelph's mind filled hers again, worse than before. More than a voice: images, scents, feelings, emotions – so, too, much.
Chloe stumbled and clutched her head. She hoped her shield still spun, still existed, but she couldn't concentrate enough to check.
Disgust.
What an idiot she was! She had picked this fight without any idea what it entailed. Indignant because she'd been tricked, resentful because her life had been broken down, hateful because her parents and Rudy had been hurt. She had gone along with the Animus Hunters until they had her in their full power, Zelph's power, because she'd wanted the chance to lash out at them and prove, prove they had to leave her alone!
The voice was hers, but the thoughts weren't, couldn't be.
It wasn't like that, she told herself. This isn't me.
But why had she attacked when she did? Sending Milissa away was one thing, giving herself the option to fight, but she hadn't even heard President Ferrill out. Hadn't the president said she was making a terrible mistake?
Look what happened when I didn't strike from surprise, Chloe countered. I knew what I was doing, and this isn't me.
I didn't know anything. I've traded on being an oh-so-special imperial, like the rules didn't apply to me. Maybe I didn't deserve this to begin with, but now?
I deserve whatever I'm going to get.
"This isn't me," Chloe screamed. She looked up to find Zelph's face centimeters away.
I am not telling you anything you have not considered for yourself, he thought.
He was telling the truth. Chloe knew in her gut the thoughts were hers, just ones she hadn't wanted to let come to the surface. Zelph dredged them up to throw against her will because her fears were his truth.
He was probably right.
As far as he went.
"You've used people, hurt them, even gotten them killed to bring me here," she said. "You've got exactly no scruples."
I do what I deem necessary, he thought. As you do.
Exactly, she thought back, pressing her voice on him for the first time. You got it, Mr. Zelph – I do deem it necessary.
Hate.
She knew Zelph was playing on her emotions, but not how to stop him. His telepathic probes reached deep down into depths Chloe herself shuddered to realize she had. She hated him all the more for it and couldn't tell if it was natural or forced.
Maybe it didn't matter.
She lashed out, battering him with unfocused power. Her erinyes whipped about her, silver sheath becoming silver wings beating frantically at the constrained air.
Still, somehow, she missed.
How dare he do this to her? Make her, not just lose, but mock her for losing, toy with her? Principle damn him, this went beyond "duty" and "ideology!" He was tormenting her for no reason at all!
"You got me," Chloe said. "I do hate you, Mr. Zelph. You killed my original parents – one intentionally, one by accident. You're trying to take a second set of parents from me. You give every indication of being an awful person. Does that mean you 'win?'"
I don't know, he thought. Does it?
"Stop playing these stupid games with me!"
Fear.
Stop playing stupid games – and kill me?
What alternative did he have? She'd demonstrated Limiters wouldn't work to constrain her. She'd demonstrated she would use her powers when pushed. Errard Zelph seemed to intend to keep pushing her well past her limit.
What about her parents? Rudy? Milissa? For associating with a 'rogue imperial' they all had to die.
If she had been wiser –
If only she didn't exist –
No, Chloe thought.
Zelph drew himself up to his full height.
Even if they are hurting now on my account, she thought, the people I love also love me. You can dredge up everything bad I've ever thought or said or done, but not that. They give me too much to live for.
They, Zelph thought, are never going to see you again.
Chloe felt her limbs lock as telekinesis flowed inside her body. She rose, puppet-like, until she was eye to eye with the Animus Hunter and her arms felt like they would shatter and her gut twisted with unfamiliar vertigo.
Your real parents are dead, Zelph thought. Your noble friend escapes one trap only to fall into another. Your felid mother is powerless and ignorant. Your oligarch lover is losing a meaningless battle for a prize no one will dream of granting. Your spacer father never could have protected you –
"My dad is always protecting me..." Chloe's knee rammed between the Animus Hunter's legs. "... because he taught me how to protect myself."
Zelph's armor absorbed most of the blow, but for just a second, his concentration slipped.
Chloe's hand whipped out and, flashing silver, hurled him back. His crumpling form shattered the fragile telekinetic globes keeping their voices private, slammed into President Ferrill's desk and lay still.
Chloe stalked forward, one hand a clenched fist, the other still outstretched and glowing with her erinyes' awakened power. Zelph could have killed her at any time. She knew the moment she felt him affecting her from within. He'd chosen to torment her instead, just like he had Rudy.
"Your mistake," she said –
And looked up at the senate chamber beyond the open roof of the presidential office, a generation ago the throne room of her ancestors, now filled with the horrified faces of elected representatives. Rhetta Ferrill slumped behind her desk. Slowly, sadly, she looked up and shook her head.
Chloe looked down the length of her outstretched fingers. The air crackled with the power she was about to unleash on the already broken Animus Hunter.
The only mistake, thought Errard Zelph, a bloody grin splitting his face, was not mine.
Chloe knew her power had to surpass Zelph's. Nothing else made sense. She was the daughter of a pair of imperials, the first such in centuries. She wore an erinyes, the mecha, armor and weapon of her ancestors.
And yet:
When she tried to shut Zelph's telepathy from her mind, she could not bar him.
When she tried to hurl waves of telekinetic force at him, she could not hit him.
When she tried to so much as sense his presence, she could not feel him.
Everything that had been easy and pleasant about her power suddenly seemed terrifying. All she really knew about it was what Milissa had taught her, and Mili was anything but a fighter. All she intuited came from Megaera, and the erinyes seemed incapable of communicating in anything but metaphor and half-glimpsed dream imagery. Chloe didn't even know if what she gleaned from it was its intention or a side effect of using it.
She felt herself lifted from the floor of Rhetta Ferrill's office. She lashed out at the lines of force between her and Zelph, but her attack passed through empty air.
As the telekinesis bit into Chloe's erinyes-sheathed body, she cried, "How are you doing this?"
He didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
Chloe realized she'd finally asked the right question.
A wave of power, omnidirectional, broke Zelph's hold and hoisted her momentarily upwards. She floated slowly to the floor and faced him.
Chloe had wielded her telekinesis like a club, at best. Zelph's danced, dozens of invisible whips and tendrils. He had to have incredible concentration to maintain them all at once, but in accepting that degree of difficulty, he acquired the ability to strike from seemingly impossible angles and penetrate otherwise invincible shields.
Chloe couldn't have matched his precision without years, decades, of training. Perhaps it would always elude her.
Now that she understood his methods, though, she could fight them. She waited for his attack to come and allowed herself a tight smile when it impacted against a hemisphere of force she rotated too fast to allow it to miss even an attack at the speed of thought.
Her smile vanished as quickly as it had formed. Zelph's mind filled hers again, worse than before. More than a voice: images, scents, feelings, emotions – so, too, much.
Chloe stumbled and clutched her head. She hoped her shield still spun, still existed, but she couldn't concentrate enough to check.
Disgust.
What an idiot she was! She had picked this fight without any idea what it entailed. Indignant because she'd been tricked, resentful because her life had been broken down, hateful because her parents and Rudy had been hurt. She had gone along with the Animus Hunters until they had her in their full power, Zelph's power, because she'd wanted the chance to lash out at them and prove, prove they had to leave her alone!
The voice was hers, but the thoughts weren't, couldn't be.
It wasn't like that, she told herself. This isn't me.
But why had she attacked when she did? Sending Milissa away was one thing, giving herself the option to fight, but she hadn't even heard President Ferrill out. Hadn't the president said she was making a terrible mistake?
Look what happened when I didn't strike from surprise, Chloe countered. I knew what I was doing, and this isn't me.
I didn't know anything. I've traded on being an oh-so-special imperial, like the rules didn't apply to me. Maybe I didn't deserve this to begin with, but now?
I deserve whatever I'm going to get.
"This isn't me," Chloe screamed. She looked up to find Zelph's face centimeters away.
I am not telling you anything you have not considered for yourself, he thought.
He was telling the truth. Chloe knew in her gut the thoughts were hers, just ones she hadn't wanted to let come to the surface. Zelph dredged them up to throw against her will because her fears were his truth.
He was probably right.
As far as he went.
"You've used people, hurt them, even gotten them killed to bring me here," she said. "You've got exactly no scruples."
I do what I deem necessary, he thought. As you do.
Exactly, she thought back, pressing her voice on him for the first time. You got it, Mr. Zelph – I do deem it necessary.
Hate.
She knew Zelph was playing on her emotions, but not how to stop him. His telepathic probes reached deep down into depths Chloe herself shuddered to realize she had. She hated him all the more for it and couldn't tell if it was natural or forced.
Maybe it didn't matter.
She lashed out, battering him with unfocused power. Her erinyes whipped about her, silver sheath becoming silver wings beating frantically at the constrained air.
Still, somehow, she missed.
How dare he do this to her? Make her, not just lose, but mock her for losing, toy with her? Principle damn him, this went beyond "duty" and "ideology!" He was tormenting her for no reason at all!
"You got me," Chloe said. "I do hate you, Mr. Zelph. You killed my original parents – one intentionally, one by accident. You're trying to take a second set of parents from me. You give every indication of being an awful person. Does that mean you 'win?'"
I don't know, he thought. Does it?
"Stop playing these stupid games with me!"
Fear.
Stop playing stupid games – and kill me?
What alternative did he have? She'd demonstrated Limiters wouldn't work to constrain her. She'd demonstrated she would use her powers when pushed. Errard Zelph seemed to intend to keep pushing her well past her limit.
What about her parents? Rudy? Milissa? For associating with a 'rogue imperial' they all had to die.
If she had been wiser –
If only she didn't exist –
No, Chloe thought.
Zelph drew himself up to his full height.
Even if they are hurting now on my account, she thought, the people I love also love me. You can dredge up everything bad I've ever thought or said or done, but not that. They give me too much to live for.
They, Zelph thought, are never going to see you again.
Chloe felt her limbs lock as telekinesis flowed inside her body. She rose, puppet-like, until she was eye to eye with the Animus Hunter and her arms felt like they would shatter and her gut twisted with unfamiliar vertigo.
Your real parents are dead, Zelph thought. Your noble friend escapes one trap only to fall into another. Your felid mother is powerless and ignorant. Your oligarch lover is losing a meaningless battle for a prize no one will dream of granting. Your spacer father never could have protected you –
"My dad is always protecting me..." Chloe's knee rammed between the Animus Hunter's legs. "... because he taught me how to protect myself."
Zelph's armor absorbed most of the blow, but for just a second, his concentration slipped.
Chloe's hand whipped out and, flashing silver, hurled him back. His crumpling form shattered the fragile telekinetic globes keeping their voices private, slammed into President Ferrill's desk and lay still.
Chloe stalked forward, one hand a clenched fist, the other still outstretched and glowing with her erinyes' awakened power. Zelph could have killed her at any time. She knew the moment she felt him affecting her from within. He'd chosen to torment her instead, just like he had Rudy.
"Your mistake," she said –
And looked up at the senate chamber beyond the open roof of the presidential office, a generation ago the throne room of her ancestors, now filled with the horrified faces of elected representatives. Rhetta Ferrill slumped behind her desk. Slowly, sadly, she looked up and shook her head.
Chloe looked down the length of her outstretched fingers. The air crackled with the power she was about to unleash on the already broken Animus Hunter.
The only mistake, thought Errard Zelph, a bloody grin splitting his face, was not mine.
Chapter 106: Boxed In
Chapter 106: Boxed In
Emergency lights flickered red above the windows of the Algreil Aerospace booth. A woman's voice, incongruously soothing, advised Ellie to "Please remain calm and stay in your seats."
Ellie didn't remain calm. She sprinted to the door and slapped her palm to the release and shouted, "Jack, what's happening?"
"I don't –" Jack's eyes snapped back and forth, following something on the bridge of the Pacific Resolution. "The hell?!"
"Jack!" Ellie's hand trembled beside the door. Fear for her husband overrode any fear she'd felt for herself. She took a deep breath. "Jack, I'm closing the connection."
"No, Hon –"
"You need to concentrate," Ellie said. She didn't say, because she didn't have to, 'and you won't as long as you're thinking about me.' She understood the sentiment, and Jack, too well to have to express it. "I love you, and we'll see each other and Chloe soon."
"I love you too, Ellie," Jack said. He gulped. "You be careful."
"You too." She severed the connection.
It didn't matter what the Oligarchical fleet faced beyond the walls of Etemenos's core. Jack and – damn him – Otto Algreil were better equipped to deal with it than Ellie could ever hope to be.
With the situation spiraling out of control, Chloe needed her mother.
Ellie stepped into the hall.
There were no warning lights on outside the box. Apparently, the alarm in the Algreil box was only company-wide, not a general alert. Nonetheless, the guards gave her unsteady salutes. She could tell they still weren't used to showing respect to a hybrid, but Rudy's example – or his orders – forced their hands. "You should stay in the suite, Ma'am."
Ellie shook her head. "I have to pass."
"Don't worry," one of the guards said. "Mr. Algreil will have everything under control soon."
"Then I'll be perfectly safe out here," Ellie said. While she spoke, she measured the distance to the next corner and the guards' tense faces. If she had to, she assumed she could out-sprint them but not outrun them for any length of time. Would she need to? Would they care enough to chase her?
Milissa's voice from the end of the hall ended Ellie's deliberation. The Kyrillos girl skidded to a stop, panting silently, her hair plastered to her head and her face still streaked from where she'd been crying. She saw Ellie and gasped her name.
Ellie dashed past the guards in the half-second of their confusion, ignored their protests and gripped Milissa's shaking arms. "Mili," she said. "Where is...?"
"Chloe's still in there with the president and the Animus Hunters," Milissa said. "She's... she was okay when she sent me away, Ma'am."
Ellie took Milissa's hands and met her eyes.
"She saved me," Milissa said. She hugged Ellie, or at least collapsed into her hug. "She said I hadn't done anything wrong. She made them let me go. She... she said she'd see me, us, soon. But..."
Milissa's voice trailed off. She rubbed her nose. She whispered, "Chloe said she wanted me to watch Rudy's match. 'Cause I... she said I was his biggest fan. She said he might n-need..."
Ellie patted her back. "Chloe isn't a liar, Mili. If she told you she'd see you soon..."
She would. Ellie believed that.
She had to believe that.
Emergency lights flickered red above the windows of the Algreil Aerospace booth. A woman's voice, incongruously soothing, advised Ellie to "Please remain calm and stay in your seats."
Ellie didn't remain calm. She sprinted to the door and slapped her palm to the release and shouted, "Jack, what's happening?"
"I don't –" Jack's eyes snapped back and forth, following something on the bridge of the Pacific Resolution. "The hell?!"
"Jack!" Ellie's hand trembled beside the door. Fear for her husband overrode any fear she'd felt for herself. She took a deep breath. "Jack, I'm closing the connection."
"No, Hon –"
"You need to concentrate," Ellie said. She didn't say, because she didn't have to, 'and you won't as long as you're thinking about me.' She understood the sentiment, and Jack, too well to have to express it. "I love you, and we'll see each other and Chloe soon."
"I love you too, Ellie," Jack said. He gulped. "You be careful."
"You too." She severed the connection.
It didn't matter what the Oligarchical fleet faced beyond the walls of Etemenos's core. Jack and – damn him – Otto Algreil were better equipped to deal with it than Ellie could ever hope to be.
With the situation spiraling out of control, Chloe needed her mother.
Ellie stepped into the hall.
There were no warning lights on outside the box. Apparently, the alarm in the Algreil box was only company-wide, not a general alert. Nonetheless, the guards gave her unsteady salutes. She could tell they still weren't used to showing respect to a hybrid, but Rudy's example – or his orders – forced their hands. "You should stay in the suite, Ma'am."
Ellie shook her head. "I have to pass."
"Don't worry," one of the guards said. "Mr. Algreil will have everything under control soon."
"Then I'll be perfectly safe out here," Ellie said. While she spoke, she measured the distance to the next corner and the guards' tense faces. If she had to, she assumed she could out-sprint them but not outrun them for any length of time. Would she need to? Would they care enough to chase her?
Milissa's voice from the end of the hall ended Ellie's deliberation. The Kyrillos girl skidded to a stop, panting silently, her hair plastered to her head and her face still streaked from where she'd been crying. She saw Ellie and gasped her name.
Ellie dashed past the guards in the half-second of their confusion, ignored their protests and gripped Milissa's shaking arms. "Mili," she said. "Where is...?"
"Chloe's still in there with the president and the Animus Hunters," Milissa said. "She's... she was okay when she sent me away, Ma'am."
Ellie took Milissa's hands and met her eyes.
"She saved me," Milissa said. She hugged Ellie, or at least collapsed into her hug. "She said I hadn't done anything wrong. She made them let me go. She... she said she'd see me, us, soon. But..."
Milissa's voice trailed off. She rubbed her nose. She whispered, "Chloe said she wanted me to watch Rudy's match. 'Cause I... she said I was his biggest fan. She said he might n-need..."
Ellie patted her back. "Chloe isn't a liar, Mili. If she told you she'd see you soon..."
She would. Ellie believed that.
She had to believe that.
Chapter 107: Set Up
Chapter 107: Set Up
Chloe understood as soon as she saw the looks on Ferrill and Zelph's faces and the senate chamber unfolded around them.
She'd been set up a second time.
She'd used her powers again. Used them to launch a preemptive strike against the lawful representatives of the Federal Senate, its Animus Hunters. Used them in the middle of the Senate itself.
"That was... very foolish of you, Miss Hughes." Rhetta Ferrill's voice was tight, little more than a whisper. "I suppose you know what has to happen now?"
Keep fighting, Chloe thought, and probably lose. Zelph could have killed her at any time, right? Now his fellow Animus Hunters rose from where she'd tossed them. She didn't even know if they'd been knocked out or if they, too, had merely feigned defeat to draw her in.
Even if she won the fight she would lose again, because she'd have to fight her way to wherever Rudy and her parents were, keep fighting to get them out, never stop fighting. Or take over Etemenos, if she could, and lose because she had to become the tyrant everyone had claimed to be so scared of.
Or surrender and face charges that would suddenly be a whole lot more serious.
Just like he had when he fought Rudy, Zelph had played her emotions perfectly. The only way she could have won was not to fight at all. Assuming she'd been wrong about the Senate planning to execute her regardless of what she'd actually done.
Maybe she never could have won. She almost hoped so. It absolved her from screwing up whatever chance she'd had.
It looked like she wasn't going to be keeping her promises after all.
Only –
"I won't surrender unless you promise to let my parents go, Ma'am."
"Is that fair, Miss Hughes?"
"Probably not," Chloe said. "But it's a fact."
"Then we are at an impasse," Ferrill said. "You refuse to accept lawful judgment unless I do a thing that is itself unlawful, at least where your father is concerned."
"Why are you doing this? Both of you? All of you?" Chloe swept her gaze over the senate boxes surrounding the president's office. They could have been mirrors of the Oligarchical boxes for the Etemenos Cup beyond them. She assumed they could hear her, although she didn't see any obvious transmitters in the office or any reaction in the holograms of senate boxes that expanded in response to her observation.
Because an imperial cannot be allowed to exist, Zelph thought, and another imperial martyr cannot be allowed to shape the course of history.
"Say it aloud," Chloe snapped at the Animus Hunter. "Say it to them!"
His only answer was his bloody grin. She wasn't sure if he was genuinely too hurt to move or just pretending for the benefit of their viewers. It hardly mattered. She'd experienced enough of his mind to know he was as willing to die for what he believed in as he was to kill for it. If he somehow succeeded in wiping every imperial and every noble and every errant from the galaxy, he would surely kill himself to exterminate the last trace of the line.
Chloe knew him well enough to know she could never understand him.
"It should not have come to this, Miss Hughes," Ferrill said. "Errard, I'm sure, intended for you to stand before me a proven criminal, but it was never my wish."
"Then why, Ma'am?" Chloe slumped to her knees. "I never would've hurt anybody if you hadn't come after the Mother Goose."
"From my perspective, Miss Hughes," Ferrill said, "I'm sorry to say none of this was even about you."
Chloe blinked.
"You represent, if not a danger yourself, then a potential source of future dangers, both because of your power and because of lingering belief in your ancestral right to rule.
"However, you do not, in my opinion – and understand, Errard and I disagree on this matter –, represent a serious threat to the peace and equality of the galaxy. It was necessary to approach your family, not to apprehend you, but to spur Otto Algreil into action."
"You didn't really think," Zelph asked, "that I would have allowed your Mother Goose to escape so many months ago if it were in the Senate's interests to secure it?"
Chloe wished she could imagine herself lashing out back then, when the eyes of the galaxy weren't on her. The truth was, nothing she or her parents could have done would have stopped Zelph from annihilating them.
She hoped she didn't shudder so the senators could see it.
If Ferrill did, she let it pass. Her version of mercy, perhaps.
"The elder Mr. Algreil, you see, has been planning his little coup for some time. Had he been allowed to strike at the time and place of his choosing, he might actually have become a danger." Ferrill shook her head. "If we were to acquire your services, however, those plans would be put in jeopardy. The Oligarchical scheme was based on Etemenos's heavy reliance on mechanical systems to attack electronically, and capital ship fleets to evade by seizing control of the world-city's shields. If convinced of the justice of our cause, you, Miss Hughes, would have been a line of defense he could neither suborn nor deactivate. And if we were cold-blooded enough to repeat the Kalder-Black Prometheus experiments on an imperial subject rather than a noble one – well!"
This time, Chloe did shudder. She'd hate to meet the person who wouldn't. Unfortunately, she already had.
"Of course," Ferrill continued, "we never actually intended to recruit or vivisect you. As soon as Algreil committed himself to the field, your role in this drama ought to have been over."
Zelph's smile slipped at that, but he didn't contradict Ferrill with either words or thoughts. Again, the thoughts he had forced on Chloe allowed her to know his mind even as her own ached trying to comprehend him. He might be devoted to a private war to level the galactic playing field, but he was also a believer in the very system that had placed Ferrill in its highest post. He could sacrifice his honor playing her enemy, but never his beliefs actually opposing her.
"We knew Algreil was tracing your father's ship," Ferrill said, "but we did not expect him to move as quickly against you – or, depending on your perspective, for you – as he did. As I told your mother, it is pointless for me to apologize for the ensuing chain of events. No apology I could offer would suffice, save to say that I truly believe the sacrifices you've been forced to make were necessary."
"That wasn't your decision to make, Ma'am," Chloe said.
"It was the decision I had to make, Miss Hughes. This was a chance, not to bring one rogue oligarch to justice as Morgan Kalder-Black and his Promethean superweapons were, but the entire Oligarchical system and the corrupt senators who propped it up. Otto Algreil was always a man to use tried and true methods on a grand scale: the consortium, the backroom deal, the swindle. I knew that if he tried to bring down the government and failed, he would take them all with him.
"It may be cold comfort to you," Ferrill added, "but what has happened here will remove the vestiges of the imperial era that prevented the Senate from correcting many injustices. In time, this step will even allow us to redress the wrongs done to hybrids."
Chloe wanted to believe the president. Even if she had, it wouldn't have been enough to forgive her. Considering that Ferrill had just admitted her willingness to lie, entrap and, even if indirectly, destroy anyone who stood in her way, belief seemed downright naive.
Besides:
"I don't get it, Ma'am," Chloe said. "You already won. Otto Algreil lost his war. You captured him. You could have let Rudy or Admiral Avalon win the Etemenos Cup, save my dad, and us fly off to freedom, the same as you claimed to want to."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Miss Hughes." Ferrill's hand slid across her desk and a dozen of the senatorial box holograms expanded. Federal marines in dark green armor stood in the doorways, rifles pointed at stunned senators and their guests. The only person Chloe recognized was one of the guests, the oligarch Georg Marchess.
There was no sound, but Chloe projected her mind into the box where the gangly oligarch stood, sputtering.
"– an outrage!" Georg's eyes bugged out as he stared at the guns. "I'm a hero of the Federated Stars, not a traitor! What the hell is Ferrill trying to pull?"
"We intercepted a message from this box, Mr. Marchess," the marine officer said, "as well as several others. You, along with three dozen members of the Senate, have been attempting to broadcast information to the insurrectionist Otto Abeir Algreil and his fleet for the past half hour. We will be apprehending him and your daughter shortly, assuming they surrender the battleship Pacific Resolution and do not insist on its destruction."
Chloe snapped her attention back to Ferrill and Zelph.
The president must have recognized her confusion, because she said, "While the senators have watched our confrontation and the public has watched the Finals of the Etemenos Cup, the elder Mr. Algreil initiated the final phase of his coup. Unfortunately for him, we were quite aware of his intentions."
Chloe knew her dad had been imprisoned with Otto Algreil. If the oligarch had gotten loose, Jack Hughes would have, too. If he fought again, like she had, the Victor's Boon Rudy or Admiral Avalon won couldn't save him, either.
If Rudy fought alongside his brother...
Ferrill, it seemed, was about to win a clean sweep.
And Chloe was about to lose the same.
Chloe understood as soon as she saw the looks on Ferrill and Zelph's faces and the senate chamber unfolded around them.
She'd been set up a second time.
She'd used her powers again. Used them to launch a preemptive strike against the lawful representatives of the Federal Senate, its Animus Hunters. Used them in the middle of the Senate itself.
"That was... very foolish of you, Miss Hughes." Rhetta Ferrill's voice was tight, little more than a whisper. "I suppose you know what has to happen now?"
Keep fighting, Chloe thought, and probably lose. Zelph could have killed her at any time, right? Now his fellow Animus Hunters rose from where she'd tossed them. She didn't even know if they'd been knocked out or if they, too, had merely feigned defeat to draw her in.
Even if she won the fight she would lose again, because she'd have to fight her way to wherever Rudy and her parents were, keep fighting to get them out, never stop fighting. Or take over Etemenos, if she could, and lose because she had to become the tyrant everyone had claimed to be so scared of.
Or surrender and face charges that would suddenly be a whole lot more serious.
Just like he had when he fought Rudy, Zelph had played her emotions perfectly. The only way she could have won was not to fight at all. Assuming she'd been wrong about the Senate planning to execute her regardless of what she'd actually done.
Maybe she never could have won. She almost hoped so. It absolved her from screwing up whatever chance she'd had.
It looked like she wasn't going to be keeping her promises after all.
Only –
"I won't surrender unless you promise to let my parents go, Ma'am."
"Is that fair, Miss Hughes?"
"Probably not," Chloe said. "But it's a fact."
"Then we are at an impasse," Ferrill said. "You refuse to accept lawful judgment unless I do a thing that is itself unlawful, at least where your father is concerned."
"Why are you doing this? Both of you? All of you?" Chloe swept her gaze over the senate boxes surrounding the president's office. They could have been mirrors of the Oligarchical boxes for the Etemenos Cup beyond them. She assumed they could hear her, although she didn't see any obvious transmitters in the office or any reaction in the holograms of senate boxes that expanded in response to her observation.
Because an imperial cannot be allowed to exist, Zelph thought, and another imperial martyr cannot be allowed to shape the course of history.
"Say it aloud," Chloe snapped at the Animus Hunter. "Say it to them!"
His only answer was his bloody grin. She wasn't sure if he was genuinely too hurt to move or just pretending for the benefit of their viewers. It hardly mattered. She'd experienced enough of his mind to know he was as willing to die for what he believed in as he was to kill for it. If he somehow succeeded in wiping every imperial and every noble and every errant from the galaxy, he would surely kill himself to exterminate the last trace of the line.
Chloe knew him well enough to know she could never understand him.
"It should not have come to this, Miss Hughes," Ferrill said. "Errard, I'm sure, intended for you to stand before me a proven criminal, but it was never my wish."
"Then why, Ma'am?" Chloe slumped to her knees. "I never would've hurt anybody if you hadn't come after the Mother Goose."
"From my perspective, Miss Hughes," Ferrill said, "I'm sorry to say none of this was even about you."
Chloe blinked.
"You represent, if not a danger yourself, then a potential source of future dangers, both because of your power and because of lingering belief in your ancestral right to rule.
"However, you do not, in my opinion – and understand, Errard and I disagree on this matter –, represent a serious threat to the peace and equality of the galaxy. It was necessary to approach your family, not to apprehend you, but to spur Otto Algreil into action."
"You didn't really think," Zelph asked, "that I would have allowed your Mother Goose to escape so many months ago if it were in the Senate's interests to secure it?"
Chloe wished she could imagine herself lashing out back then, when the eyes of the galaxy weren't on her. The truth was, nothing she or her parents could have done would have stopped Zelph from annihilating them.
She hoped she didn't shudder so the senators could see it.
If Ferrill did, she let it pass. Her version of mercy, perhaps.
"The elder Mr. Algreil, you see, has been planning his little coup for some time. Had he been allowed to strike at the time and place of his choosing, he might actually have become a danger." Ferrill shook her head. "If we were to acquire your services, however, those plans would be put in jeopardy. The Oligarchical scheme was based on Etemenos's heavy reliance on mechanical systems to attack electronically, and capital ship fleets to evade by seizing control of the world-city's shields. If convinced of the justice of our cause, you, Miss Hughes, would have been a line of defense he could neither suborn nor deactivate. And if we were cold-blooded enough to repeat the Kalder-Black Prometheus experiments on an imperial subject rather than a noble one – well!"
This time, Chloe did shudder. She'd hate to meet the person who wouldn't. Unfortunately, she already had.
"Of course," Ferrill continued, "we never actually intended to recruit or vivisect you. As soon as Algreil committed himself to the field, your role in this drama ought to have been over."
Zelph's smile slipped at that, but he didn't contradict Ferrill with either words or thoughts. Again, the thoughts he had forced on Chloe allowed her to know his mind even as her own ached trying to comprehend him. He might be devoted to a private war to level the galactic playing field, but he was also a believer in the very system that had placed Ferrill in its highest post. He could sacrifice his honor playing her enemy, but never his beliefs actually opposing her.
"We knew Algreil was tracing your father's ship," Ferrill said, "but we did not expect him to move as quickly against you – or, depending on your perspective, for you – as he did. As I told your mother, it is pointless for me to apologize for the ensuing chain of events. No apology I could offer would suffice, save to say that I truly believe the sacrifices you've been forced to make were necessary."
"That wasn't your decision to make, Ma'am," Chloe said.
"It was the decision I had to make, Miss Hughes. This was a chance, not to bring one rogue oligarch to justice as Morgan Kalder-Black and his Promethean superweapons were, but the entire Oligarchical system and the corrupt senators who propped it up. Otto Algreil was always a man to use tried and true methods on a grand scale: the consortium, the backroom deal, the swindle. I knew that if he tried to bring down the government and failed, he would take them all with him.
"It may be cold comfort to you," Ferrill added, "but what has happened here will remove the vestiges of the imperial era that prevented the Senate from correcting many injustices. In time, this step will even allow us to redress the wrongs done to hybrids."
Chloe wanted to believe the president. Even if she had, it wouldn't have been enough to forgive her. Considering that Ferrill had just admitted her willingness to lie, entrap and, even if indirectly, destroy anyone who stood in her way, belief seemed downright naive.
Besides:
"I don't get it, Ma'am," Chloe said. "You already won. Otto Algreil lost his war. You captured him. You could have let Rudy or Admiral Avalon win the Etemenos Cup, save my dad, and us fly off to freedom, the same as you claimed to want to."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Miss Hughes." Ferrill's hand slid across her desk and a dozen of the senatorial box holograms expanded. Federal marines in dark green armor stood in the doorways, rifles pointed at stunned senators and their guests. The only person Chloe recognized was one of the guests, the oligarch Georg Marchess.
There was no sound, but Chloe projected her mind into the box where the gangly oligarch stood, sputtering.
"– an outrage!" Georg's eyes bugged out as he stared at the guns. "I'm a hero of the Federated Stars, not a traitor! What the hell is Ferrill trying to pull?"
"We intercepted a message from this box, Mr. Marchess," the marine officer said, "as well as several others. You, along with three dozen members of the Senate, have been attempting to broadcast information to the insurrectionist Otto Abeir Algreil and his fleet for the past half hour. We will be apprehending him and your daughter shortly, assuming they surrender the battleship Pacific Resolution and do not insist on its destruction."
Chloe snapped her attention back to Ferrill and Zelph.
The president must have recognized her confusion, because she said, "While the senators have watched our confrontation and the public has watched the Finals of the Etemenos Cup, the elder Mr. Algreil initiated the final phase of his coup. Unfortunately for him, we were quite aware of his intentions."
Chloe knew her dad had been imprisoned with Otto Algreil. If the oligarch had gotten loose, Jack Hughes would have, too. If he fought again, like she had, the Victor's Boon Rudy or Admiral Avalon won couldn't save him, either.
If Rudy fought alongside his brother...
Ferrill, it seemed, was about to win a clean sweep.
And Chloe was about to lose the same.
Jim Starluck
CO, ICS Vanguard
- Location
- Cincinnati, OH
Gee, there sure are a lot of gambits piling up. Kinda reminds me of this one guy from an old cartoon. What was his name again... Xanadu? Xanax? It was Xan-something, I'm sure.
Ah well, probably not important.
At any rate, I really hope someone--preferably Chloe--gets to tell Zelph all the reasons he sucks soon.
Ah well, probably not important.
At any rate, I really hope someone--preferably Chloe--gets to tell Zelph all the reasons he sucks soon.
Chapter 108: Winner’s Circle
Chapter 108: Winner's Circle
"I'm sorry, Ad – Divine Auric Drake, but the senate is in an emergency session."
"If it has already begun," Avalon said, for all the world as if he knew what the Fed marine was talking about, "that is all the more reason I must address the president immediately."
The marine's garrison mecha towered ten meters over Rudy and the ex-admiral, small for its class but probably one of the most advanced Fed models. It gave the guy a definite advantage when it came to staring contests. Avalon met his gaze anyway – how, Rudy didn't know – and locked it.
"Do you think I would interrupt merely for this?" Avalon held up the data-laced ribbon that proclaimed him the Champion of the Etemenos Cup and carried the million-angled recordings to prove it. For all the bullshit he'd troweled on about how important the tournament was, he did a damn fine job of sounding contemptuous of it now. Rudy almost felt betrayed to have believed him. "I must speak with President Ferrill on a matter of vital import."
Rudy had stood on the Winner's Circle, the circular platform outside the senate chamber where the Etemenos Cup's victor and runner-up received their accolades, twice before. The platform was typical Etemenos: a silvery metal extrusion huge enough to accommodate ten times as many mecha as it was ever intended to hold.
Rudy had always been the runner up. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
He thought of Chloe and fought back something between a sob and a snarl.
It didn't take a Principle-damned gravitic engineer to figure out why the Senate was in an emergency session. Rhetta Ferrill was holding court on Chloe's life.
Rudy wished he could hop back in the Epee looming behind him and smash his way in, but if he tried, he knew he'd fail. The senate chamber would reform its outer armor faster than his mecha could cut through it.
Anyway, Avalon would either stop him or give it a damn good try.
So Rudy folded his arms and let the ex-admiral do things his way.
For now.
"I was instructed not to let anyone in, Divine Auric Drake," the marine said. Rudy could tell the heart had gone out of his protests, though. Reluctantly, he added, "My CO said the orders came from Grand Admiral Zelph himself."
"I see," Avalon said. He stroked his chin. "Nonetheless, I must pass this information on to the president."
"I can't help you, sir. You'll just have to wait until I receive further orders."
Screw that, Rudy thought. He took a step forward, but before he could say, or do, anything, Avalon said, "I understand. In that case, please contact Grand Admiral Zelph for said orders."
The marine's gulp was audible over his mecha's speakers. "B-but sir, the Grand Admiral, I mean – he's probably busy. Sir. I mean, Divine Auric Drake."
"Even if Grand Admiral Zelph is unable to answer immediately," Avalon said, acting like he couldn't tell the marine was sweating bullets, "I'm sure he'll want to know I have information for him."
"If you could tell me, sir, I could –"
"I fear you lack the clearance for this information," Avalon said. "There's no need to concern yourself with it, or with me, any further. Please pass on my request and I'm sure the Grand Admiral will respond as soon as he is able."
Rudy would swear he could see the marine's hands shaking, servo-assisted gauntlets or not.
"There's no need to delay you, sir. If it's that important, you'd, uh, you'd better go on through." The marine's visor flicked in Rudy's direction. "This man –"
"Mr. Algreil is also involved in the matter I must bring before the President," Avalon said. "He is a witness."
"Of course, Sir." The marine snapped a salute. "If you hurry, you may be able to catch President Ferrill before the session really gets underway."
"My thanks," Avalon said. He strode past the marine mecha as the gateway to the senate chamber unfurled from the smooth surface of its exterior. Rudy followed him onto a long, curve-walled ramp that stretched across Etemenos's core to the former throne room of Chloe's ancestors. The wall reformed behind them.
"Pretty slick, Marcel," Rudy said. "The hell did you manage that?"
"Errard Zelph demonstrates perfectly the perils of leading through fear. If an officer's subordinates are afraid to question him, will they not fear to question anyone?" Avalon spared the rapidly-sealing door a frown. "I almost feel I ought to tell that young man what a mistake he made."
"How about not."
"I only said I was tempted." Avalon flashed a smile. It faded as his gaze swept over the open senate boxes.
"What's wrong?"
"It's strange," he said. "We can see the senators, but not hear them. An open-box debate ought to be piped over the speakers."
"Maybe your boss doesn't want it to get out how she plans to screw Chloe over," Rudy said.
"I will not hear President Ferrill spoken of in that manner." Avalon quickened his pace.
I'm gonna use a lot more than harsh language, Rudy thought, if Miz Ferrill doesn't want to let Chloe go.
Somehow, he got the idea he shouldn't mention that to Avalon. In a mecha, Rudy figured himself the ex-admiral's equal, more or less. More – dammit, he had at least planned to throw the match. He'd hesitated. Right?
It didn't matter. On foot, he knew he didn't stand a chance. All he could do was follow Avalon and hope their relative martial gifts wouldn't matter until the next time they faced off in a tournament.
The hallway flowed under their feet. Rudy doubted he'd ever get used to that Etemenos "feature," but a walk that should have taken half an hour took less than a minute. At this point he'd have let the damn walls throw him if it got him to Chloe faster.
Ferrill's office, at least, had something like a real door, probably because it had been the throne room and audience chamber of Etemenos's emperors. Rudy had never seen the inside except in recordings, and all he could think of was Ferrill's triumphant speech after the Feds – after Avalon – trounced the Oligarchical insurrection.
No big speeches this time. No publicity.
Hell, as far as Rudy could tell, no word at all.
Frowning, he tried his communications suite while Avalon tried the door. A message wouldn't get through to Chloe – she'd have had to trade her flight suit in for prison clothes –, but Boss should still be accessible.
He wasn't.
The hell...? "Hey, Marcel," he began, even as he switched over to Chloe's mother.
Ellie Hughes didn't respond, either. In fact, Rudy's suit claimed it didn't have a fix on hers at all.
That could only happen if Ellie had left Etemenos, if her suit's communications suite had been switched off –
Or if something in the senate chamber were jamming outbound communications.
"Marcel," he repeated, "call Ellie."
"Hm? Why?"
"Because I can't," Rudy said, "and she's the only com address I know we've got in common."
Avalon's brow furrowed. "Strange."
"No shit. You got any kind of fancy military anti-jamming equipment on that golden oldie you call a flight suit?"
Avalon shook his head. "This is not my uniform, Rudolph."
Rudy didn't understand why the Senate would want to gag whatever they were doing to Chloe. Wasn't like the "last imperial" would engender much sympathy from the plebes. Hell, they should want to boast about bringing her down.
"This is strange indeed," Avalon said. "We should –"
"Do what you want," Rudy snapped.
He surged past the ex-admiral and into the empty waiting room of the president's offices. Spartan walls but a real desk, nothing he hadn't expected, even less he cared about. He was a little surprised not to see any guards, but at least it made things easier.
There was only one other door.
I'm coming, Clo, Rudy thought.
He could only hope, maybe even pray, he wasn't too late.
"I'm sorry, Ad – Divine Auric Drake, but the senate is in an emergency session."
"If it has already begun," Avalon said, for all the world as if he knew what the Fed marine was talking about, "that is all the more reason I must address the president immediately."
The marine's garrison mecha towered ten meters over Rudy and the ex-admiral, small for its class but probably one of the most advanced Fed models. It gave the guy a definite advantage when it came to staring contests. Avalon met his gaze anyway – how, Rudy didn't know – and locked it.
"Do you think I would interrupt merely for this?" Avalon held up the data-laced ribbon that proclaimed him the Champion of the Etemenos Cup and carried the million-angled recordings to prove it. For all the bullshit he'd troweled on about how important the tournament was, he did a damn fine job of sounding contemptuous of it now. Rudy almost felt betrayed to have believed him. "I must speak with President Ferrill on a matter of vital import."
Rudy had stood on the Winner's Circle, the circular platform outside the senate chamber where the Etemenos Cup's victor and runner-up received their accolades, twice before. The platform was typical Etemenos: a silvery metal extrusion huge enough to accommodate ten times as many mecha as it was ever intended to hold.
Rudy had always been the runner up. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
He thought of Chloe and fought back something between a sob and a snarl.
It didn't take a Principle-damned gravitic engineer to figure out why the Senate was in an emergency session. Rhetta Ferrill was holding court on Chloe's life.
Rudy wished he could hop back in the Epee looming behind him and smash his way in, but if he tried, he knew he'd fail. The senate chamber would reform its outer armor faster than his mecha could cut through it.
Anyway, Avalon would either stop him or give it a damn good try.
So Rudy folded his arms and let the ex-admiral do things his way.
For now.
"I was instructed not to let anyone in, Divine Auric Drake," the marine said. Rudy could tell the heart had gone out of his protests, though. Reluctantly, he added, "My CO said the orders came from Grand Admiral Zelph himself."
"I see," Avalon said. He stroked his chin. "Nonetheless, I must pass this information on to the president."
"I can't help you, sir. You'll just have to wait until I receive further orders."
Screw that, Rudy thought. He took a step forward, but before he could say, or do, anything, Avalon said, "I understand. In that case, please contact Grand Admiral Zelph for said orders."
The marine's gulp was audible over his mecha's speakers. "B-but sir, the Grand Admiral, I mean – he's probably busy. Sir. I mean, Divine Auric Drake."
"Even if Grand Admiral Zelph is unable to answer immediately," Avalon said, acting like he couldn't tell the marine was sweating bullets, "I'm sure he'll want to know I have information for him."
"If you could tell me, sir, I could –"
"I fear you lack the clearance for this information," Avalon said. "There's no need to concern yourself with it, or with me, any further. Please pass on my request and I'm sure the Grand Admiral will respond as soon as he is able."
Rudy would swear he could see the marine's hands shaking, servo-assisted gauntlets or not.
"There's no need to delay you, sir. If it's that important, you'd, uh, you'd better go on through." The marine's visor flicked in Rudy's direction. "This man –"
"Mr. Algreil is also involved in the matter I must bring before the President," Avalon said. "He is a witness."
"Of course, Sir." The marine snapped a salute. "If you hurry, you may be able to catch President Ferrill before the session really gets underway."
"My thanks," Avalon said. He strode past the marine mecha as the gateway to the senate chamber unfurled from the smooth surface of its exterior. Rudy followed him onto a long, curve-walled ramp that stretched across Etemenos's core to the former throne room of Chloe's ancestors. The wall reformed behind them.
"Pretty slick, Marcel," Rudy said. "The hell did you manage that?"
"Errard Zelph demonstrates perfectly the perils of leading through fear. If an officer's subordinates are afraid to question him, will they not fear to question anyone?" Avalon spared the rapidly-sealing door a frown. "I almost feel I ought to tell that young man what a mistake he made."
"How about not."
"I only said I was tempted." Avalon flashed a smile. It faded as his gaze swept over the open senate boxes.
"What's wrong?"
"It's strange," he said. "We can see the senators, but not hear them. An open-box debate ought to be piped over the speakers."
"Maybe your boss doesn't want it to get out how she plans to screw Chloe over," Rudy said.
"I will not hear President Ferrill spoken of in that manner." Avalon quickened his pace.
I'm gonna use a lot more than harsh language, Rudy thought, if Miz Ferrill doesn't want to let Chloe go.
Somehow, he got the idea he shouldn't mention that to Avalon. In a mecha, Rudy figured himself the ex-admiral's equal, more or less. More – dammit, he had at least planned to throw the match. He'd hesitated. Right?
It didn't matter. On foot, he knew he didn't stand a chance. All he could do was follow Avalon and hope their relative martial gifts wouldn't matter until the next time they faced off in a tournament.
The hallway flowed under their feet. Rudy doubted he'd ever get used to that Etemenos "feature," but a walk that should have taken half an hour took less than a minute. At this point he'd have let the damn walls throw him if it got him to Chloe faster.
Ferrill's office, at least, had something like a real door, probably because it had been the throne room and audience chamber of Etemenos's emperors. Rudy had never seen the inside except in recordings, and all he could think of was Ferrill's triumphant speech after the Feds – after Avalon – trounced the Oligarchical insurrection.
No big speeches this time. No publicity.
Hell, as far as Rudy could tell, no word at all.
Frowning, he tried his communications suite while Avalon tried the door. A message wouldn't get through to Chloe – she'd have had to trade her flight suit in for prison clothes –, but Boss should still be accessible.
He wasn't.
The hell...? "Hey, Marcel," he began, even as he switched over to Chloe's mother.
Ellie Hughes didn't respond, either. In fact, Rudy's suit claimed it didn't have a fix on hers at all.
That could only happen if Ellie had left Etemenos, if her suit's communications suite had been switched off –
Or if something in the senate chamber were jamming outbound communications.
"Marcel," he repeated, "call Ellie."
"Hm? Why?"
"Because I can't," Rudy said, "and she's the only com address I know we've got in common."
Avalon's brow furrowed. "Strange."
"No shit. You got any kind of fancy military anti-jamming equipment on that golden oldie you call a flight suit?"
Avalon shook his head. "This is not my uniform, Rudolph."
Rudy didn't understand why the Senate would want to gag whatever they were doing to Chloe. Wasn't like the "last imperial" would engender much sympathy from the plebes. Hell, they should want to boast about bringing her down.
"This is strange indeed," Avalon said. "We should –"
"Do what you want," Rudy snapped.
He surged past the ex-admiral and into the empty waiting room of the president's offices. Spartan walls but a real desk, nothing he hadn't expected, even less he cared about. He was a little surprised not to see any guards, but at least it made things easier.
There was only one other door.
I'm coming, Clo, Rudy thought.
He could only hope, maybe even pray, he wasn't too late.
Chapter 109: Victor’s Boon
Chapter 109: Victor's Boon
"Chloe."
She turned at the sound of her name, soft against the backdrop of crashing thoughts and presidential censure, loud enough she could hear it across a galaxy. She took a step, legs tensed to spring across the office, Animus Hunters be damned, and let the speaker fold her into his arms and tell her it would be all right. She'd believe, even though she knew he'd be wrong.
But she couldn't do that.
Deflated, she finished her turn and looked up a familiar crimson flight suit to shining electric blue eyes. "Rudy," she said.
He stepped forward, but he must have understood her hesitation. She couldn't give up her power. Not yet.
Since she'd gotten it caught on camera, she probably never could.
Maybe Rudy understood that, too, because he contented himself with an uncharacteristically quiet, "You okay?"
"I screwed up, Rudy," Chloe said.
"Bad?"
"Worse." A beat. "Did you...?"
"It's complicated."
"You lost?" She was surprised, after everything that had happened, to realize that she still felt a little disappointed.
"I said it's complicated." He snorted. "Yeah."
Which meant the Etemenos Cup's Champion had to be the man who appeared in the doorway behind Rudy. Marcel Avalon bowed as he entered the presidential offices. "Madame President," he said. "Miss Hughes."
The Animus Hunters apparently didn't rate a mention.
Chloe wondered if she should correct Avalon, at least where Zelph was concerned. She could feel the hostility between them, each holding the other in contempt, seeing the other as anathema, the worst part of the system they both served. Yet the Grand Admiral was closer to the man whose fall he'd helped engineer than Avalon could have guessed. They parted company only where honor was concerned. Zelph was willing to sacrifice even that on the altar of duty.
Zelph's was not her story to tell. Nor did she feel any desire to defend the honor he'd chosen to throw away.
All she wanted to do was run to Rudy, and that was the last thing she could do.
Unless, of course, she was prepared to give up.
She hoped the thought was one Zelph had planted in her brain. She knew better.
If she were to tell Rudy what had happened, explain that the crime her dad would be condemned for was too new for the Victor's Boon to wipe away, throw herself on the Senate's mercy and her dad to the wolves...
President Rhetta Ferrill was legalistic enough it might even work.
Her dad would tell her to do it. He'd already tried to convince her to sacrifice him once. She could get everything she wanted, with just one exception, if she just got his perfectly sensible advice through her thick skull.
But she couldn't.
"I see, Marcel," Ferrill said, "that you've won the Etemenos Cup once again."
The ex-admiral bowed his head. His hand clasped over his heart, over a stripe of bright blue that lent color to his golden flight suit. "Yes, Ma'am."
"Once again, you have my congratulations."
"And I thank you for them, Ma'am," Avalon said. "But – forgive me. It is not congratulations I have come to ask of you."
"You are referring to the Victor's Boon." Ferrill's voice sounded shakier than Chloe had ever heard it, either in person or in a recording. The president's hands were balled tight over her desk. "Marcel, I... I must remind you to follow the old adage. Be careful what you wish for."
"I understand."
No, Chloe thought, you don't. President Ferrill doesn't want to tell you outright to ask something for yourself, but she's not gonna let me go and there's nothing you can do for me and my dad.
Chloe started to speak, but Avalon cut her off.
"I did not interrupt an emergency session of the Federal Senate merely to ask some small favor in exchange for whatever good I have done the people," he said. Chloe found herself staring at him, almost as mesmerized by his voice as when they first met. Even Rudy, even Zelph, looked to Avalon.
"I came here with all speed," the ex-admiral said, "in the hopes I might do a greater service in victory than I did in the winning of it."
"The situation has changed, Marcel," Ferrill said, but her voice was curiously subdued. Chloe realized with a start that even the woman who had risen to the highest position in human space wasn't immune to the power of her greatest champion's voice.
"Let it change." Avalon strode forward and stood beside Chloe. Imperial or no, she felt like she was disappearing into his shadow and was glad of the chance to. "What I have come to ask, and to do, does not require a 'situation' to make it right. It simply is."
No one answered.
"Madame President," Avalon said, "I know you have done something that you believed to be wrong, because you believed it best for the peace and equality of the galaxy."
"Marcel –"
"I trust your judgment. If you believed it such, surely, so it was. But a wrong thing done for the best principles is no less wrong, and the best end born of wrong practice cannot long last." Avalon faced Ferrill. His amber eyes barely narrowed as he spoke, his lantern jaw did not tighten – but Chloe, standing beside him, could feel a kind of tension she'd hardly known in her life roiling beneath his calm facade. "Please give me the chance to make practice as well as principle right – the situation be damned."
Ferrill rose unsteadily. She reached out and lay a shaking hand over the fist clenched to Avalon's chest. Her lips trembled for a moment, then broke into a small, sad smile.
Her other hand lowered to the surface of her desk. It rippled with symbols Chloe couldn't make out.
Ferrill met Avalon's eyes. Chloe couldn't see those amber orbs, but she could sense the plea he could not bring himself to speak.
"Divine Auric Drake. You are ever the people's greatest shield. Yours is the lance that defends their justice, and the flame that fires their hearts to it. You remind them of what they ought to be, and show them that they can be." Her smile broke free and her voice just broke. She whispered, so quietly Chloe could barely hear her, "They and I both."
Avalon bowed his head.
"Divine Auric Drake," the president said, "Champion of the Etemenos Cup, hero, Admiral, now and ever of the Federal Navy. Ask your victor's boon, and the Senate will see it done."
Avalon stared, stunned, maybe, that she'd called him 'admiral.'
Chloe suspected they would have all called him 'emperor' if he'd asked them to. In his own way, he was more powerful than the emperors of the Astroykos Dynasty. Thank the Principle he used his power as little, and as well, as the best of them.
"Madame President," Avalon said, "members of the Federal Senate.
"I ask you to pardon Jack and Chloe Hughes, free spacers and citizens of the Federated Stars, of all crimes of which they stand accused. I vouch for their standing as good citizens, and swear such missteps as they have made weigh as heavy on us as on them. It is we who have failed them, not they us, and I ask you to redress the failure."
The Senate erupted. Chloe realized that when Ferrill had touched her desk, she'd triggered the sound to and from the presidential office.
Which meant it hadn't been on before.
When she fought Zelph –
When she learned why Ferrill and Zelph had pursued her family –
No one outside the chamber knew. Only the Animus Hunters, the president, and Chloe herself would ever have to.
She didn't have to lose after all.
If her dad heard –
The images of the senate boxes faded into the background and one holographic screen drowned out the rest. The first sound to emerge from it was applause.
Slow, deliberate, sarcastic applause.
Chloe looked up at the screen. So did Rudy, Avalon, Ferrill, Zelph, the Animus Hunters, even the senators whose images she could barely make out in their minimized projections.
"Very nice speech, Admiral," Otto Abeir Algreil said, "but it's a little late."
"Chloe."
She turned at the sound of her name, soft against the backdrop of crashing thoughts and presidential censure, loud enough she could hear it across a galaxy. She took a step, legs tensed to spring across the office, Animus Hunters be damned, and let the speaker fold her into his arms and tell her it would be all right. She'd believe, even though she knew he'd be wrong.
But she couldn't do that.
Deflated, she finished her turn and looked up a familiar crimson flight suit to shining electric blue eyes. "Rudy," she said.
He stepped forward, but he must have understood her hesitation. She couldn't give up her power. Not yet.
Since she'd gotten it caught on camera, she probably never could.
Maybe Rudy understood that, too, because he contented himself with an uncharacteristically quiet, "You okay?"
"I screwed up, Rudy," Chloe said.
"Bad?"
"Worse." A beat. "Did you...?"
"It's complicated."
"You lost?" She was surprised, after everything that had happened, to realize that she still felt a little disappointed.
"I said it's complicated." He snorted. "Yeah."
Which meant the Etemenos Cup's Champion had to be the man who appeared in the doorway behind Rudy. Marcel Avalon bowed as he entered the presidential offices. "Madame President," he said. "Miss Hughes."
The Animus Hunters apparently didn't rate a mention.
Chloe wondered if she should correct Avalon, at least where Zelph was concerned. She could feel the hostility between them, each holding the other in contempt, seeing the other as anathema, the worst part of the system they both served. Yet the Grand Admiral was closer to the man whose fall he'd helped engineer than Avalon could have guessed. They parted company only where honor was concerned. Zelph was willing to sacrifice even that on the altar of duty.
Zelph's was not her story to tell. Nor did she feel any desire to defend the honor he'd chosen to throw away.
All she wanted to do was run to Rudy, and that was the last thing she could do.
Unless, of course, she was prepared to give up.
She hoped the thought was one Zelph had planted in her brain. She knew better.
If she were to tell Rudy what had happened, explain that the crime her dad would be condemned for was too new for the Victor's Boon to wipe away, throw herself on the Senate's mercy and her dad to the wolves...
President Rhetta Ferrill was legalistic enough it might even work.
Her dad would tell her to do it. He'd already tried to convince her to sacrifice him once. She could get everything she wanted, with just one exception, if she just got his perfectly sensible advice through her thick skull.
But she couldn't.
"I see, Marcel," Ferrill said, "that you've won the Etemenos Cup once again."
The ex-admiral bowed his head. His hand clasped over his heart, over a stripe of bright blue that lent color to his golden flight suit. "Yes, Ma'am."
"Once again, you have my congratulations."
"And I thank you for them, Ma'am," Avalon said. "But – forgive me. It is not congratulations I have come to ask of you."
"You are referring to the Victor's Boon." Ferrill's voice sounded shakier than Chloe had ever heard it, either in person or in a recording. The president's hands were balled tight over her desk. "Marcel, I... I must remind you to follow the old adage. Be careful what you wish for."
"I understand."
No, Chloe thought, you don't. President Ferrill doesn't want to tell you outright to ask something for yourself, but she's not gonna let me go and there's nothing you can do for me and my dad.
Chloe started to speak, but Avalon cut her off.
"I did not interrupt an emergency session of the Federal Senate merely to ask some small favor in exchange for whatever good I have done the people," he said. Chloe found herself staring at him, almost as mesmerized by his voice as when they first met. Even Rudy, even Zelph, looked to Avalon.
"I came here with all speed," the ex-admiral said, "in the hopes I might do a greater service in victory than I did in the winning of it."
"The situation has changed, Marcel," Ferrill said, but her voice was curiously subdued. Chloe realized with a start that even the woman who had risen to the highest position in human space wasn't immune to the power of her greatest champion's voice.
"Let it change." Avalon strode forward and stood beside Chloe. Imperial or no, she felt like she was disappearing into his shadow and was glad of the chance to. "What I have come to ask, and to do, does not require a 'situation' to make it right. It simply is."
No one answered.
"Madame President," Avalon said, "I know you have done something that you believed to be wrong, because you believed it best for the peace and equality of the galaxy."
"Marcel –"
"I trust your judgment. If you believed it such, surely, so it was. But a wrong thing done for the best principles is no less wrong, and the best end born of wrong practice cannot long last." Avalon faced Ferrill. His amber eyes barely narrowed as he spoke, his lantern jaw did not tighten – but Chloe, standing beside him, could feel a kind of tension she'd hardly known in her life roiling beneath his calm facade. "Please give me the chance to make practice as well as principle right – the situation be damned."
Ferrill rose unsteadily. She reached out and lay a shaking hand over the fist clenched to Avalon's chest. Her lips trembled for a moment, then broke into a small, sad smile.
Her other hand lowered to the surface of her desk. It rippled with symbols Chloe couldn't make out.
Ferrill met Avalon's eyes. Chloe couldn't see those amber orbs, but she could sense the plea he could not bring himself to speak.
"Divine Auric Drake. You are ever the people's greatest shield. Yours is the lance that defends their justice, and the flame that fires their hearts to it. You remind them of what they ought to be, and show them that they can be." Her smile broke free and her voice just broke. She whispered, so quietly Chloe could barely hear her, "They and I both."
Avalon bowed his head.
"Divine Auric Drake," the president said, "Champion of the Etemenos Cup, hero, Admiral, now and ever of the Federal Navy. Ask your victor's boon, and the Senate will see it done."
Avalon stared, stunned, maybe, that she'd called him 'admiral.'
Chloe suspected they would have all called him 'emperor' if he'd asked them to. In his own way, he was more powerful than the emperors of the Astroykos Dynasty. Thank the Principle he used his power as little, and as well, as the best of them.
"Madame President," Avalon said, "members of the Federal Senate.
"I ask you to pardon Jack and Chloe Hughes, free spacers and citizens of the Federated Stars, of all crimes of which they stand accused. I vouch for their standing as good citizens, and swear such missteps as they have made weigh as heavy on us as on them. It is we who have failed them, not they us, and I ask you to redress the failure."
The Senate erupted. Chloe realized that when Ferrill had touched her desk, she'd triggered the sound to and from the presidential office.
Which meant it hadn't been on before.
When she fought Zelph –
When she learned why Ferrill and Zelph had pursued her family –
No one outside the chamber knew. Only the Animus Hunters, the president, and Chloe herself would ever have to.
She didn't have to lose after all.
If her dad heard –
The images of the senate boxes faded into the background and one holographic screen drowned out the rest. The first sound to emerge from it was applause.
Slow, deliberate, sarcastic applause.
Chloe looked up at the screen. So did Rudy, Avalon, Ferrill, Zelph, the Animus Hunters, even the senators whose images she could barely make out in their minimized projections.
"Very nice speech, Admiral," Otto Abeir Algreil said, "but it's a little late."
Chapter 110: Standoff
Chapter 110: Standoff
Jack didn't have to fight anymore.
Principle knew how, but Ellie and Chloe and Rudy Algreil had apparently scored the assistance of the Divine Auric Drake, gotten past the Animus Hunter Corps, won over President Ferrill. No way – not after a speech like that – those toadies in the Federal Senators would risk their seats by refusing the Victor's Boon.
It was too good to be true.
Which was probably why, Jack thought, it wasn't true.
He didn't have to fight anymore, but standing on the bridge of an Oligarchical battleship in a firefight with the Fed Navy, he had no way to stop.
"It's nice of you to finally stop going after my good buddy Jack, here," Otto said to the five figures staring up at his projected image, "but the question's about to become academic anyway."
"Algreil," Ferrill growled. Avalon shifted between her and the screen like he expected Otto to reach out of it and wring the president's neck. Which, considering Otto's apparent control over Etemenos's systems, might not be out of the question.
"Miz President," Otto said.
"You are making a grave miscalculation," Ferrill said. "You should have run when you had the chance."
"Why?" The oligarch's grin widened. With a wave of his hand he split the screen to show off what he and Jack and the Pacific Resolution's bridge crew were seeing.
The Federal Navy's First Fleet held, barely, a ring around Etemenos's core. Dozens of capital ships had fallen when their shields dropped to the initial, viral Oligarchical attack, but a ragtag core had formed around the battlecruiser Emancipator. They would have been wiped out if they hadn't switched to manual control of their shields. They would have been wiped out anyway if the Second, Third and Fourth Fleets, unhindered by the virus, had not emerged from hiding around the fifth ring to pincer the Oligarchy's fleet.
Otto hadn't expected that one.
But he'd dealt with it.
Etemenos offered too many great vantage points for Otto to wage war from. He was too good of a tactician, with too powerful a force, with too little to lose, to be defeated even by more than four times the Feds he'd expected to face. Otto had laughed when Second Fleet's Acting Admiral Little demanded his surrender.
The destroyer Reformer's listing hulk was a testament to who had been right.
"Impossible," Errard Zelph snarled.
"Errard," Ferril said, "you told me his plan relied –"
"On the good senators you've got under arrest, whose transmissions you've been jamming?" Otto cocked his head. "Oh, sorry, Miz President, Grand Admiral. I guess I must have misrepresented what those fools were actually needed for."
Zelph glared up at the screen. "How could you lie to me?"
"Not that hard," Otto said. "I never gave you a reason to wrench my secrets out of me, and I let Alarie finalize the plans for disabling the First Fleet. Until today, neither her father nor I knew about her people inserting a virus into the fleet's systems during their joint 'exercises.'"
"They were good plans," Alarie said. "Weren't they, Otto?"
"They seem to be working like a charm, babe," Otto said. "Of course, why would our friendly neighborhood Animus Hunter have guessed you were even involved? Everyone knows how little I think of you, right? We spent ten years showing them."
"Not anymore." She beamed at him.
"The only thing I needed the senators for," Otto said, "was to make this a bloodless transition of power. After all, I do hate to lose customers."
As if to punctuate his words, the Pacific Resolution's main gun, a gigantic magnetic acceleration cannon bigger than half the capital ships Jack had seen, caromed a shell through the shields of one of First Fleet's screening ships. The smaller vessel crumpled, but the shell's momentum punched out the other side and into Etemenos's core.
Jack couldn't hear the impact through the vacuum, of course.
He couldn't hear the people caught on the edges of it. Screaming. Dying.
Ellie was almost certainly somewhere in the core. He knew Chloe was at its heart, where Otto would have to carve his way if the Senate kept fighting.
Every second that passed, a Fed or 'garch shell smashed into some hapless part of the world-city. This deep inside it, they literally couldn't miss.
Jack itched to stop the oligarch, even though he knew he'd fail. His first instinct was to get his ass kicked trying. At least then he could look at himself in the mirror afterward, assuming there was an afterward.
And yet...
For all Otto was a bastard, for all that Jack's personal part in the second Civil War should have ended when Avalon asked for his and Chloe's pardons, on some level, Otto wasn't wrong. Jack didn't understand why the Senate had come after Chloe in the first place, but they had. He didn't know why they'd orchestrated the death of Chloe's birth mother, but they had. He didn't know why they'd broken their own rules to provoke the Oligarchy.
But they had.
Jack wanted the fighting to stop.
But he'd be damned if he knew who he thought deserved to win.
Jack didn't have to fight anymore.
Principle knew how, but Ellie and Chloe and Rudy Algreil had apparently scored the assistance of the Divine Auric Drake, gotten past the Animus Hunter Corps, won over President Ferrill. No way – not after a speech like that – those toadies in the Federal Senators would risk their seats by refusing the Victor's Boon.
It was too good to be true.
Which was probably why, Jack thought, it wasn't true.
He didn't have to fight anymore, but standing on the bridge of an Oligarchical battleship in a firefight with the Fed Navy, he had no way to stop.
"It's nice of you to finally stop going after my good buddy Jack, here," Otto said to the five figures staring up at his projected image, "but the question's about to become academic anyway."
"Algreil," Ferrill growled. Avalon shifted between her and the screen like he expected Otto to reach out of it and wring the president's neck. Which, considering Otto's apparent control over Etemenos's systems, might not be out of the question.
"Miz President," Otto said.
"You are making a grave miscalculation," Ferrill said. "You should have run when you had the chance."
"Why?" The oligarch's grin widened. With a wave of his hand he split the screen to show off what he and Jack and the Pacific Resolution's bridge crew were seeing.
The Federal Navy's First Fleet held, barely, a ring around Etemenos's core. Dozens of capital ships had fallen when their shields dropped to the initial, viral Oligarchical attack, but a ragtag core had formed around the battlecruiser Emancipator. They would have been wiped out if they hadn't switched to manual control of their shields. They would have been wiped out anyway if the Second, Third and Fourth Fleets, unhindered by the virus, had not emerged from hiding around the fifth ring to pincer the Oligarchy's fleet.
Otto hadn't expected that one.
But he'd dealt with it.
Etemenos offered too many great vantage points for Otto to wage war from. He was too good of a tactician, with too powerful a force, with too little to lose, to be defeated even by more than four times the Feds he'd expected to face. Otto had laughed when Second Fleet's Acting Admiral Little demanded his surrender.
The destroyer Reformer's listing hulk was a testament to who had been right.
"Impossible," Errard Zelph snarled.
"Errard," Ferril said, "you told me his plan relied –"
"On the good senators you've got under arrest, whose transmissions you've been jamming?" Otto cocked his head. "Oh, sorry, Miz President, Grand Admiral. I guess I must have misrepresented what those fools were actually needed for."
Zelph glared up at the screen. "How could you lie to me?"
"Not that hard," Otto said. "I never gave you a reason to wrench my secrets out of me, and I let Alarie finalize the plans for disabling the First Fleet. Until today, neither her father nor I knew about her people inserting a virus into the fleet's systems during their joint 'exercises.'"
"They were good plans," Alarie said. "Weren't they, Otto?"
"They seem to be working like a charm, babe," Otto said. "Of course, why would our friendly neighborhood Animus Hunter have guessed you were even involved? Everyone knows how little I think of you, right? We spent ten years showing them."
"Not anymore." She beamed at him.
"The only thing I needed the senators for," Otto said, "was to make this a bloodless transition of power. After all, I do hate to lose customers."
As if to punctuate his words, the Pacific Resolution's main gun, a gigantic magnetic acceleration cannon bigger than half the capital ships Jack had seen, caromed a shell through the shields of one of First Fleet's screening ships. The smaller vessel crumpled, but the shell's momentum punched out the other side and into Etemenos's core.
Jack couldn't hear the impact through the vacuum, of course.
He couldn't hear the people caught on the edges of it. Screaming. Dying.
Ellie was almost certainly somewhere in the core. He knew Chloe was at its heart, where Otto would have to carve his way if the Senate kept fighting.
Every second that passed, a Fed or 'garch shell smashed into some hapless part of the world-city. This deep inside it, they literally couldn't miss.
Jack itched to stop the oligarch, even though he knew he'd fail. His first instinct was to get his ass kicked trying. At least then he could look at himself in the mirror afterward, assuming there was an afterward.
And yet...
For all Otto was a bastard, for all that Jack's personal part in the second Civil War should have ended when Avalon asked for his and Chloe's pardons, on some level, Otto wasn't wrong. Jack didn't understand why the Senate had come after Chloe in the first place, but they had. He didn't know why they'd orchestrated the death of Chloe's birth mother, but they had. He didn't know why they'd broken their own rules to provoke the Oligarchy.
But they had.
Jack wanted the fighting to stop.
But he'd be damned if he knew who he thought deserved to win.
Chapter 111: Etemenos Falling
Chapter 111: Etemenos Falling
Otto Algreil's face hovered overhead on gigantic holographic screens meant to show presidential broadcasts and Etemenos Cup duels. The core was painted redder than the Oligarch's hair by the emergency lights touched off by his assault.
Beneath Ellie's feet, the surface of the core buckled and rippled. She stumbled, only keeping her feet thanks to Milissa's hand on her arm.
"What's happening, Ellie?" the Kyrillos girl asked as she helped Ellie back to her feet. The floor settled, but the walls still quivered, shaken silver gelatin.
How should I know, Ellie thought. But she paused, forced herself to take a breath, and said, "Stray shells must be hitting the core. I suppose they're damaging the nanomachines they hit directly, so the rest have to flow into the gap to compensate so we don't lose atmosphere."
"Oh." Milissa glanced nervously at the walls. "How much longer do you think...?"
"Long enough," Ellie said. Maybe if she said it with enough force, she could get them both to believe it.
"I don't... think we're gonna be able to get back to Chloe," Milissa said.
Or, Ellie thought, be let in if we did somehow manage to cross the walkways between the outer core and the senate chamber that was Etemenos's true heart.
Ellie wasn't sure how to proceed. She could call Jack. But if he was fighting, even if he was fighting for the wrong side – which she could hardly be sure of – she didn't dare break his concentration. She couldn't reach Chloe. She'd tried Avalon and Rudy to no avail.
But, she realized, that was when they'd been jammed. If Otto's transmission and President Ferrill's response could get through...
"Hang on a sec, Mili," Ellie said. She closed her eyes and focused her com unit on Rudy Algreil's.
He blinked in surprise when he saw her.
"Where are you?" Ellie asked.
He texted his response: "Not the time, Mrs. Hughes."
"Is Chloe there? Is she safe?"
"Safer than the rest of us, I think. Which isn't saying much. Are you okay?"
"Milissa and I are... basically safe," Ellie said. She ignored the Kyrillos girl's cocked head.
"I'll tell Clo. Make her feel a lot better to know Mili's in good hands, since you obviously know what you're doing." His expression didn't look terribly confident, though. For once, he looked, not cocky, not even worried, just... confused.
That makes a whole lot of us, Ellie thought.
She said, "Thank you, Rudy. And – bring her back safe."
"No worries," he texted. The twinkle faded from his eye as fast as it flickered, though, and, quietly, he said, "It's a promise, Ma'am."
Before Ellie could respond, Milissa poked her face into hers; either the Kyrillos girl thought she could share the flight suit com or was too desperate not to try. "Is Rudolf with Chloe?"
Ellie nodded.
"Merciful Principle," Milissa breathed. "Then everything will be all right."
"You really believe that, Mili?"
"Of course!" She beamed.
Then the wall exploded behind her.
She tumbled into Ellie and they both fell halfway from the melting hall before it snapped back into semi-rigidity, vibrating like a tuning fork as the whole outer core shifted and shook from impact.
For a second, Ellie found herself staring into the void of space. Tiny figures – bodies, she realized, spectators of the Cup – were sucked into the gaping hole in the outer core. The breach had to be more than a kilometer from where she and Mili lay, but it was so huge it looked like it could reach out and suck her in after the ant-sized figures.
Slowly from her vantage point, but surely dozens of meters each second, the core rebuilt its shell and staunched the killing flow. Inert nanomachine particles drifted into the gap, useless and then vacuumed away.
How many people had it failed to save?
How much more could it patch before it ran out of functioning material?
Ellie didn't know.
She did know only luck had kept one of those shells from hitting the passage she and Milissa occupied. The whole core seemed to be blossoming with explosions and trying, and failing, to patch them all.
Ellie realized the ringing in her ears wasn't just from the explosion. She was still in contact with Rudolph Algreil.
And, through his shouts, she knew Chloe knew what was happening.
Otto Algreil's face hovered overhead on gigantic holographic screens meant to show presidential broadcasts and Etemenos Cup duels. The core was painted redder than the Oligarch's hair by the emergency lights touched off by his assault.
Beneath Ellie's feet, the surface of the core buckled and rippled. She stumbled, only keeping her feet thanks to Milissa's hand on her arm.
"What's happening, Ellie?" the Kyrillos girl asked as she helped Ellie back to her feet. The floor settled, but the walls still quivered, shaken silver gelatin.
How should I know, Ellie thought. But she paused, forced herself to take a breath, and said, "Stray shells must be hitting the core. I suppose they're damaging the nanomachines they hit directly, so the rest have to flow into the gap to compensate so we don't lose atmosphere."
"Oh." Milissa glanced nervously at the walls. "How much longer do you think...?"
"Long enough," Ellie said. Maybe if she said it with enough force, she could get them both to believe it.
"I don't... think we're gonna be able to get back to Chloe," Milissa said.
Or, Ellie thought, be let in if we did somehow manage to cross the walkways between the outer core and the senate chamber that was Etemenos's true heart.
Ellie wasn't sure how to proceed. She could call Jack. But if he was fighting, even if he was fighting for the wrong side – which she could hardly be sure of – she didn't dare break his concentration. She couldn't reach Chloe. She'd tried Avalon and Rudy to no avail.
But, she realized, that was when they'd been jammed. If Otto's transmission and President Ferrill's response could get through...
"Hang on a sec, Mili," Ellie said. She closed her eyes and focused her com unit on Rudy Algreil's.
He blinked in surprise when he saw her.
"Where are you?" Ellie asked.
He texted his response: "Not the time, Mrs. Hughes."
"Is Chloe there? Is she safe?"
"Safer than the rest of us, I think. Which isn't saying much. Are you okay?"
"Milissa and I are... basically safe," Ellie said. She ignored the Kyrillos girl's cocked head.
"I'll tell Clo. Make her feel a lot better to know Mili's in good hands, since you obviously know what you're doing." His expression didn't look terribly confident, though. For once, he looked, not cocky, not even worried, just... confused.
That makes a whole lot of us, Ellie thought.
She said, "Thank you, Rudy. And – bring her back safe."
"No worries," he texted. The twinkle faded from his eye as fast as it flickered, though, and, quietly, he said, "It's a promise, Ma'am."
Before Ellie could respond, Milissa poked her face into hers; either the Kyrillos girl thought she could share the flight suit com or was too desperate not to try. "Is Rudolf with Chloe?"
Ellie nodded.
"Merciful Principle," Milissa breathed. "Then everything will be all right."
"You really believe that, Mili?"
"Of course!" She beamed.
Then the wall exploded behind her.
She tumbled into Ellie and they both fell halfway from the melting hall before it snapped back into semi-rigidity, vibrating like a tuning fork as the whole outer core shifted and shook from impact.
For a second, Ellie found herself staring into the void of space. Tiny figures – bodies, she realized, spectators of the Cup – were sucked into the gaping hole in the outer core. The breach had to be more than a kilometer from where she and Mili lay, but it was so huge it looked like it could reach out and suck her in after the ant-sized figures.
Slowly from her vantage point, but surely dozens of meters each second, the core rebuilt its shell and staunched the killing flow. Inert nanomachine particles drifted into the gap, useless and then vacuumed away.
How many people had it failed to save?
How much more could it patch before it ran out of functioning material?
Ellie didn't know.
She did know only luck had kept one of those shells from hitting the passage she and Milissa occupied. The whole core seemed to be blossoming with explosions and trying, and failing, to patch them all.
Ellie realized the ringing in her ears wasn't just from the explosion. She was still in contact with Rudolph Algreil.
And, through his shouts, she knew Chloe knew what was happening.
Jim Starluck
CO, ICS Vanguard
- Location
- Cincinnati, OH
...hey, Otto?
Ya shouldn'a did that.
Ya shouldn'a did that.
Chapter 112: Command
New
Chapter 112: Command
Rudy clapped a hand over his ear, but even he wasn't sure if he was trying to block out the sound of the explosion roaring over his suit's com unit or focus his attention on it. "Mrs. Hughes!"
Chloe's eyes snapped to him. "What about mom?"
"I don't – dammit! I can't hear." Rudy shook his head. The roar was dying, but he couldn't do more than hope it was all that was dying.
"If something's happened to her," Chloe said, "you have to tell me."
Rudy focused on her. A sheen like silver sweat glistened on her face and the hands bared by her loose-fitting prison garb. The erinyes, Megaera. The – he couldn't help himself – parasite.
"Mrs. Hughes," Rudy said, forcing himself to stay calm because it was the only way to keep Chloe calm. "Are you and Mili okay?"
"W-we're fine, Rudy," Ellie said, and Rudy and Chloe both started breathing again. "But it's chaos out here. Your brother –"
"I know." Rudy switched the communication from Ellie to a silent channel and strode to the center of the chamber.
Otto was fighting for his life and their company. Fine. He had that right.
Didn't mean Rudy had to agree with him.
At the center of the chamber, Otto was locked in argument with Ferrill and Avalon. Nobody looked like they planned on backing down.
Rudy shouted, "All Algreil Aerospace units."
He actually managed to get the mob to shut up for a second.
Even Otto. For a second. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm ordering all of our company's assets to stand down and stop firing their weapons inside Etemenos. You came damn close to killing my future mother-in-law and you are killing a whole hell of a lot of innocent people."
Behind Otto, Jack Hughes stirred in his seat, glaring at the man he thought was his boss.
Said man apparently thought so, too, because he almost laughed when he said, "You're ordering?"
"Yeah."
"Then consider yourself ordered to sit down and shut up," Otto said. "Playing your stupid game is only going to make this take longer and hurt more people."
"That's not your call, Otto." Rudy stepped closer to the screen. "It's mine."
Otto cocked his head. "Really. And how do you figure that, bro?"
"Because I'm the acting Oligarch of Algreil Aerospace," Rudy said. He clenched his fists and dredged up the crap he'd poured over when he first hatched the idea of he and Chloe going public. "According to clause seventeen of the estate and succession plan you laid out: 'in such cases as Oligarch Otto Abeir Algreil shall, for a duration of three or more months, be incapable of discharging his duties toward the board and shareholders of Algreil Aerospace, his duties will pass to Mr. Rudolph Kaine Algreil. The permanent settlement of the position of oligarch will follow after a period of no less than one month and will be decided by the board of directors in consultation with the Algreil family.'"
Rudy gulped down a breath. "It hasn't been any damned month," he said, "and the board isn't here on Etemenos to boot me out. Until they do, it's my company you're fighting with – and I'm ordering all units to cease firing. Now!"
The rumbling stopped.
Otto regarded him for a long minute. Gradually, Rudy realized everyone else was starting at him, too. He could just make out Chloe's wide eyes at the corner of his vision, a smile on her lips.
Probably surprised he could speak legalese.
Well, he was an oligarch's son.
For the moment, he was an oligarch himself.
Finally, Otto shrugged and said, "You're right."
Rudy stared right back at him.
"You actually got off your ass and used your head for once, bro, and you're right. I have no legal standing to command the Algreil fleet." Otto rose from the captain's chair of the Pacific Resolution. He turned as if to walk away, then glanced over his shoulder. "Of course... you're about to order a surrender, right?"
Rudy hesitated. It was obviously a trap.
"The officers on these ships already know what will happen if they don't win today. The same thing that was going to happen to me." Otto's electric blue eyes bored into Rudy's. "So, little brother... are you really going to order us, all of us, to die?"
The fighting had to stop. Ellie and Milissa were out there, along with millions, billions of innocent people.
But –
"They're waiting, Rudy," Otto said. "If you don't act, they will."
"I –" He gritted his teeth. "No."
"Rudolf..." Avalon's voice was dangerous.
"Full retreat," Rudy said tightly. "Get out of Etemenos and scatter. All mecha units return to hangars and get the hell out of here."
"And be hunted like dogs for the rest of their lives?" Otto asked. "This isn't win or go home, Rudy. This isn't the silly games you're used to playing. If these men don't win, they won't have a home to go to."
"Then they should have thought of that before they listened to your bullshit," Rudy snapped. "All Algreil Aerospace units, you heard your oligarch. I'll... I'll figure something out, dammit!"
"You heard the man," Otto said. "He is, technically, the legal head of Algreil Aerospace. Follow his orders and he'll 'figure something out.' I certainly trust him, considering his track record."
Rudy's mouth went dry.
"How's that blue ribbon feel, little brother?" Otto's gaze was on Avalon's blue-banded chest as he spoke. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you lose? Again?"
Rudy didn't answer.
"I suppose you're gonna blame more technical troubles?"
"No."
"So you just plain lost. Again."
Through teeth clenched hard enough to hurt, Rudy growled, "Yes."
Otto shook his head.
He turned to Alarie, who sat in the chair beside him, looking more uncomfortable in her Marchess Wardens flight suit than anyone Rudy had ever seen. "Well, Alarie? This isn't the Algreil Aerospace fleet. The United Shipping Magnate owns this flagship, not Algreil Aerospace. Your father's in no position to speak for it. I guess that makes it your call."
Rudy should have known. Otto wouldn't have given his little bro the call unless whatever call was made didn't mean a damn thing.
"We are causing a bloodbath and it does suck," Otto said. "There's a good chance we're doing the wrong thing. And a better chance that if we don't, we're all as good as dead. Want to trust Rudy to 'figure it out' for us?"
Alarie gazed up at Otto. After everything he'd put her through, maybe she'd understand that he was just using her again. How the hell could she not? He'd never let her make a decision since the day they were married – he'd treated her like crap from day one!
How could she still look at him like he was patterned to be the best thing since gravitic drive?
"Of course not, Otto," she said calmly. "You're the only one I trust to see us through this."
"You're a doll," Otto said. He spun back into his chair.
Jack Hughes's fist was waiting for him.
Rudy clapped a hand over his ear, but even he wasn't sure if he was trying to block out the sound of the explosion roaring over his suit's com unit or focus his attention on it. "Mrs. Hughes!"
Chloe's eyes snapped to him. "What about mom?"
"I don't – dammit! I can't hear." Rudy shook his head. The roar was dying, but he couldn't do more than hope it was all that was dying.
"If something's happened to her," Chloe said, "you have to tell me."
Rudy focused on her. A sheen like silver sweat glistened on her face and the hands bared by her loose-fitting prison garb. The erinyes, Megaera. The – he couldn't help himself – parasite.
"Mrs. Hughes," Rudy said, forcing himself to stay calm because it was the only way to keep Chloe calm. "Are you and Mili okay?"
"W-we're fine, Rudy," Ellie said, and Rudy and Chloe both started breathing again. "But it's chaos out here. Your brother –"
"I know." Rudy switched the communication from Ellie to a silent channel and strode to the center of the chamber.
Otto was fighting for his life and their company. Fine. He had that right.
Didn't mean Rudy had to agree with him.
At the center of the chamber, Otto was locked in argument with Ferrill and Avalon. Nobody looked like they planned on backing down.
Rudy shouted, "All Algreil Aerospace units."
He actually managed to get the mob to shut up for a second.
Even Otto. For a second. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm ordering all of our company's assets to stand down and stop firing their weapons inside Etemenos. You came damn close to killing my future mother-in-law and you are killing a whole hell of a lot of innocent people."
Behind Otto, Jack Hughes stirred in his seat, glaring at the man he thought was his boss.
Said man apparently thought so, too, because he almost laughed when he said, "You're ordering?"
"Yeah."
"Then consider yourself ordered to sit down and shut up," Otto said. "Playing your stupid game is only going to make this take longer and hurt more people."
"That's not your call, Otto." Rudy stepped closer to the screen. "It's mine."
Otto cocked his head. "Really. And how do you figure that, bro?"
"Because I'm the acting Oligarch of Algreil Aerospace," Rudy said. He clenched his fists and dredged up the crap he'd poured over when he first hatched the idea of he and Chloe going public. "According to clause seventeen of the estate and succession plan you laid out: 'in such cases as Oligarch Otto Abeir Algreil shall, for a duration of three or more months, be incapable of discharging his duties toward the board and shareholders of Algreil Aerospace, his duties will pass to Mr. Rudolph Kaine Algreil. The permanent settlement of the position of oligarch will follow after a period of no less than one month and will be decided by the board of directors in consultation with the Algreil family.'"
Rudy gulped down a breath. "It hasn't been any damned month," he said, "and the board isn't here on Etemenos to boot me out. Until they do, it's my company you're fighting with – and I'm ordering all units to cease firing. Now!"
The rumbling stopped.
Otto regarded him for a long minute. Gradually, Rudy realized everyone else was starting at him, too. He could just make out Chloe's wide eyes at the corner of his vision, a smile on her lips.
Probably surprised he could speak legalese.
Well, he was an oligarch's son.
For the moment, he was an oligarch himself.
Finally, Otto shrugged and said, "You're right."
Rudy stared right back at him.
"You actually got off your ass and used your head for once, bro, and you're right. I have no legal standing to command the Algreil fleet." Otto rose from the captain's chair of the Pacific Resolution. He turned as if to walk away, then glanced over his shoulder. "Of course... you're about to order a surrender, right?"
Rudy hesitated. It was obviously a trap.
"The officers on these ships already know what will happen if they don't win today. The same thing that was going to happen to me." Otto's electric blue eyes bored into Rudy's. "So, little brother... are you really going to order us, all of us, to die?"
The fighting had to stop. Ellie and Milissa were out there, along with millions, billions of innocent people.
But –
"They're waiting, Rudy," Otto said. "If you don't act, they will."
"I –" He gritted his teeth. "No."
"Rudolf..." Avalon's voice was dangerous.
"Full retreat," Rudy said tightly. "Get out of Etemenos and scatter. All mecha units return to hangars and get the hell out of here."
"And be hunted like dogs for the rest of their lives?" Otto asked. "This isn't win or go home, Rudy. This isn't the silly games you're used to playing. If these men don't win, they won't have a home to go to."
"Then they should have thought of that before they listened to your bullshit," Rudy snapped. "All Algreil Aerospace units, you heard your oligarch. I'll... I'll figure something out, dammit!"
"You heard the man," Otto said. "He is, technically, the legal head of Algreil Aerospace. Follow his orders and he'll 'figure something out.' I certainly trust him, considering his track record."
Rudy's mouth went dry.
"How's that blue ribbon feel, little brother?" Otto's gaze was on Avalon's blue-banded chest as he spoke. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you lose? Again?"
Rudy didn't answer.
"I suppose you're gonna blame more technical troubles?"
"No."
"So you just plain lost. Again."
Through teeth clenched hard enough to hurt, Rudy growled, "Yes."
Otto shook his head.
He turned to Alarie, who sat in the chair beside him, looking more uncomfortable in her Marchess Wardens flight suit than anyone Rudy had ever seen. "Well, Alarie? This isn't the Algreil Aerospace fleet. The United Shipping Magnate owns this flagship, not Algreil Aerospace. Your father's in no position to speak for it. I guess that makes it your call."
Rudy should have known. Otto wouldn't have given his little bro the call unless whatever call was made didn't mean a damn thing.
"We are causing a bloodbath and it does suck," Otto said. "There's a good chance we're doing the wrong thing. And a better chance that if we don't, we're all as good as dead. Want to trust Rudy to 'figure it out' for us?"
Alarie gazed up at Otto. After everything he'd put her through, maybe she'd understand that he was just using her again. How the hell could she not? He'd never let her make a decision since the day they were married – he'd treated her like crap from day one!
How could she still look at him like he was patterned to be the best thing since gravitic drive?
"Of course not, Otto," she said calmly. "You're the only one I trust to see us through this."
"You're a doll," Otto said. He spun back into his chair.
Jack Hughes's fist was waiting for him.
Chapter 113: Friendly Fire
New
Chapter 113: Friendly Fire
Otto ducked.
The son of a bitch ducked, when there was no way, no way he could have known –
The return blow caught Jack in the stomach and sent him sprawling backwards. He rolled to his feet and into a boxing stance, but Otto didn't pursue.
"Really, Jack?" Otto shook his head. "Because I let you compete in a prison cell, you actually thought you could take me when my ass was on the line?"
Jack coughed. Otto's punch had hit harder than he'd thought. If it wasn't for the flight suit...
Well, Jack was wearing his flight suit. So was the oligarch, and obviously, even when he was prancing across the bridge making a fool of his little brother, Otto was paying attention to its military-grade sensors.
Which Jack, on foot, didn't know how to do.
Shit.
"I'm getting sick and tired," Otto said, "of everybody's moralizing."
"Could hurt Ellie." Jack coughed. "Gonna hurt Clo."
"And the Feds are going to kill me," Otto snapped. "Me and every officer in this fleet. As you, Jack, know damned well. They started this. They set this up to try and sting what they thought was the real threat. That smug little bitch Ferrill let me pull this plan off, in the middle of this city you're so concerned about, because she preached to herself it would be all to the Principle-damned good!"
Jack could give a shit, and Otto knew it.
But, Jack realized, he wasn't the audience anymore. He was just a prop – somebody else for Otto to break down to prove he was in control.
Prove it to the fleet, prove it to his enemies, prove it, mostly, to himself.
But he couldn't, because he'd never been farther from in control in his life.
He was...
Holy crap.
Otto Abeir Algreil was scared out of his mind.
Otto couldn't be sure of beating the senate, even now. If he managed, he'd burn almost all his bridges. Even the men who followed him now were going to be puking themselves when they realized the carnage they'd caused. Rudy and Jack would never forgive him. Alarie was too relieved to be treated like a human being to think about what he'd made her order, but would that stick? What about the Algreil and Marchess officers who'd signed up for a fleet engagement in open space – clean, between sailors and captains, marines and mechaneers, like wars were supposed to be? Would they forgive Otto for making them do something they had to hate?
Otto couldn't surrender. If he did, he would die along with all of his officers. The Oligarchical system he'd spent his entire life fighting for would collapse, probably before the Feds flipped the switch and fried him. Everything he'd built, everything he'd fought for, and most of the people he'd raised up along the way? Wiped away along with him.
Otto couldn't run. This was his last chance, his gambit to save the oligarchy and give it what he'd always thought it deserved. With invincible Etemenos between him and the Senate, he could never be anything more than a fugitive, a rebel fighting a long and losing war until the material advantage of his enemies wore his forces down to nothing.
The only way he could get anything like a win was to keep going, consequences be damned, himself be damned.
Jack still didn't give a shit.
"I know why you're doing this," he said. "But I can't let you hurt my family."
Otto snorted. "Let me?"
"I probably can't stop you. But I can sure as hell distract you."
"You just love being arrested for treason, don't you, Jack?" Otto nodded to a pair of armored security officers at the door to the bridge. Jack could hear them clomping toward him. "Between our feint to get in here and getting snagged by the nobs in the Civil War, you're shooting for three out of three on factions."
"I can't," Jack said, "let you hurt them."
"You can't do anything about it, either."
Jack pulled his sidearm. He hadn't had occasion to fire one in a long time, but the pistol he'd gotten along with his suit felt familiar in his hand, comfortable.
Sorry, old buddy, he thought.
Hopefully it won't kill you.
He pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked.
"The hell...?"
A pair of armored figures plowed into Jack from the side. He smashed to to the deck. His suit tried to distribute the impact but he knew something had broken, probably in him. He rolled and threw a punch before he realized what he was doing. His fist cracked against the faceplate of the miniature-mecha armor of a Marchess Wardens marine. Pain shot down Jack's arm.
Then it was wrenched to the deck and held there, pinned by sheer weight. To say nothing of power-armored strength.
"I thought you might have a problem with what we'd have to do, old buddy," Otto said, "so I told Alarie's people not to load your gun. Can't have friendly fire at a time like this, now can we?"
Otto ducked.
The son of a bitch ducked, when there was no way, no way he could have known –
The return blow caught Jack in the stomach and sent him sprawling backwards. He rolled to his feet and into a boxing stance, but Otto didn't pursue.
"Really, Jack?" Otto shook his head. "Because I let you compete in a prison cell, you actually thought you could take me when my ass was on the line?"
Jack coughed. Otto's punch had hit harder than he'd thought. If it wasn't for the flight suit...
Well, Jack was wearing his flight suit. So was the oligarch, and obviously, even when he was prancing across the bridge making a fool of his little brother, Otto was paying attention to its military-grade sensors.
Which Jack, on foot, didn't know how to do.
Shit.
"I'm getting sick and tired," Otto said, "of everybody's moralizing."
"Could hurt Ellie." Jack coughed. "Gonna hurt Clo."
"And the Feds are going to kill me," Otto snapped. "Me and every officer in this fleet. As you, Jack, know damned well. They started this. They set this up to try and sting what they thought was the real threat. That smug little bitch Ferrill let me pull this plan off, in the middle of this city you're so concerned about, because she preached to herself it would be all to the Principle-damned good!"
Jack could give a shit, and Otto knew it.
But, Jack realized, he wasn't the audience anymore. He was just a prop – somebody else for Otto to break down to prove he was in control.
Prove it to the fleet, prove it to his enemies, prove it, mostly, to himself.
But he couldn't, because he'd never been farther from in control in his life.
He was...
Holy crap.
Otto Abeir Algreil was scared out of his mind.
Otto couldn't be sure of beating the senate, even now. If he managed, he'd burn almost all his bridges. Even the men who followed him now were going to be puking themselves when they realized the carnage they'd caused. Rudy and Jack would never forgive him. Alarie was too relieved to be treated like a human being to think about what he'd made her order, but would that stick? What about the Algreil and Marchess officers who'd signed up for a fleet engagement in open space – clean, between sailors and captains, marines and mechaneers, like wars were supposed to be? Would they forgive Otto for making them do something they had to hate?
Otto couldn't surrender. If he did, he would die along with all of his officers. The Oligarchical system he'd spent his entire life fighting for would collapse, probably before the Feds flipped the switch and fried him. Everything he'd built, everything he'd fought for, and most of the people he'd raised up along the way? Wiped away along with him.
Otto couldn't run. This was his last chance, his gambit to save the oligarchy and give it what he'd always thought it deserved. With invincible Etemenos between him and the Senate, he could never be anything more than a fugitive, a rebel fighting a long and losing war until the material advantage of his enemies wore his forces down to nothing.
The only way he could get anything like a win was to keep going, consequences be damned, himself be damned.
Jack still didn't give a shit.
"I know why you're doing this," he said. "But I can't let you hurt my family."
Otto snorted. "Let me?"
"I probably can't stop you. But I can sure as hell distract you."
"You just love being arrested for treason, don't you, Jack?" Otto nodded to a pair of armored security officers at the door to the bridge. Jack could hear them clomping toward him. "Between our feint to get in here and getting snagged by the nobs in the Civil War, you're shooting for three out of three on factions."
"I can't," Jack said, "let you hurt them."
"You can't do anything about it, either."
Jack pulled his sidearm. He hadn't had occasion to fire one in a long time, but the pistol he'd gotten along with his suit felt familiar in his hand, comfortable.
Sorry, old buddy, he thought.
Hopefully it won't kill you.
He pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked.
"The hell...?"
A pair of armored figures plowed into Jack from the side. He smashed to to the deck. His suit tried to distribute the impact but he knew something had broken, probably in him. He rolled and threw a punch before he realized what he was doing. His fist cracked against the faceplate of the miniature-mecha armor of a Marchess Wardens marine. Pain shot down Jack's arm.
Then it was wrenched to the deck and held there, pinned by sheer weight. To say nothing of power-armored strength.
"I thought you might have a problem with what we'd have to do, old buddy," Otto said, "so I told Alarie's people not to load your gun. Can't have friendly fire at a time like this, now can we?"
Chapter 114: Chaos
New
Chapter 114: Chaos
"Stop it!" Chloe's fists cracked against Ferrill's wooden desk, but her eyes remained fixed on the scene playing out overhead. She didn't even know who she was talking to.
Otto Algreil? But she could feel the panic rolling off him, knew he wouldn't stop because he couldn't.
Rhetta Ferrill? The president had already resolved to die if that was what it took to preserve her principles, had already shown her willingness to kill for them.
Who, then?
Everybody.
She cried, "Stop it!"
But no one listened.
"Madame President, please," Marcel Avalon was saying, "you must reinstate me now." I have a plan, he thought. It is desperate and dangerous, but it is not doomed. If I were in command it might yet save the republic and Etemenos. There is no excusing Otto Algreil's crime, and so help me Principle it falls to me to punish it.
But he couldn't, not with any certainty, not without an even more devastating battle.
Her dad was hurling himself against the composite-armored arms of the Marchess Wardens marines lifting him from the deck, shouting for Otto to stop, listen to reason, what the hell did he think he was doing? I know damn well what you're doing, he thought, but it doesn't matter. We don't matter. You think I give a damn if I die here? I've been ready for that for a long time. Maybe you should've thought of that before you let me think we were on death row for three months!
But he couldn't break free, and even if he did, the most he could accomplish was to change who won the battle.
Milissa Kyrillos was huddling in Chloe's mom's arms, sobbing. The Limiters are starting to break down, she thought, but I can't tell Ellie. She needs to try to be strong so she can tell Rudolf we're alright. He has to think of Her Highness. We all do. B-but, we're not all right. Everybody's so scared, it's too much to block out. And we're right to be scared. We're all going to die here. Chloe was wrong.
Ellie herself simply thought, This is it, then. Jack, Chloe, I miss you. I'm sorry we won't see each other again.
The surface of Etemenos's core crumpled half a kilometer over her head. Ruined blobs of nanopaste rained down, and ruined bodies – then, as quickly as it fell, before anyone even had a chance to scream, the gaping hole into the vacuum began to pull everything it had scattered back toward it.
Errard Zelph, for the first time since Chloe had known him, stiffened in real fear. His eyes widened. He tensed. He bombarded her with his panic. There is nothing you can do. If you try –
But Chloe ignored him.
For a moment, her physical eyes settled on the one person she couldn't read.
But Rudy didn't even look up. He'd lost to his brother again. It hadn't even been a competition. Every bit of progress he'd thought he'd made in life, he saw slipping through his fingers. Chloe didn't have to read his mind to see the shame on his face.
She wanted to tell him it was enough, more than enough, that he'd tried.
But deep down she didn't feel it was.
Trying and failing sounded noble on paper. Lost causes were romantic.
In reality, it all just hurt.
No more hurting.
Stop it, Chloe repeated, and the universe answered.
"Stop it!" Chloe's fists cracked against Ferrill's wooden desk, but her eyes remained fixed on the scene playing out overhead. She didn't even know who she was talking to.
Otto Algreil? But she could feel the panic rolling off him, knew he wouldn't stop because he couldn't.
Rhetta Ferrill? The president had already resolved to die if that was what it took to preserve her principles, had already shown her willingness to kill for them.
Who, then?
Everybody.
She cried, "Stop it!"
But no one listened.
"Madame President, please," Marcel Avalon was saying, "you must reinstate me now." I have a plan, he thought. It is desperate and dangerous, but it is not doomed. If I were in command it might yet save the republic and Etemenos. There is no excusing Otto Algreil's crime, and so help me Principle it falls to me to punish it.
But he couldn't, not with any certainty, not without an even more devastating battle.
Her dad was hurling himself against the composite-armored arms of the Marchess Wardens marines lifting him from the deck, shouting for Otto to stop, listen to reason, what the hell did he think he was doing? I know damn well what you're doing, he thought, but it doesn't matter. We don't matter. You think I give a damn if I die here? I've been ready for that for a long time. Maybe you should've thought of that before you let me think we were on death row for three months!
But he couldn't break free, and even if he did, the most he could accomplish was to change who won the battle.
Milissa Kyrillos was huddling in Chloe's mom's arms, sobbing. The Limiters are starting to break down, she thought, but I can't tell Ellie. She needs to try to be strong so she can tell Rudolf we're alright. He has to think of Her Highness. We all do. B-but, we're not all right. Everybody's so scared, it's too much to block out. And we're right to be scared. We're all going to die here. Chloe was wrong.
Ellie herself simply thought, This is it, then. Jack, Chloe, I miss you. I'm sorry we won't see each other again.
The surface of Etemenos's core crumpled half a kilometer over her head. Ruined blobs of nanopaste rained down, and ruined bodies – then, as quickly as it fell, before anyone even had a chance to scream, the gaping hole into the vacuum began to pull everything it had scattered back toward it.
Errard Zelph, for the first time since Chloe had known him, stiffened in real fear. His eyes widened. He tensed. He bombarded her with his panic. There is nothing you can do. If you try –
But Chloe ignored him.
For a moment, her physical eyes settled on the one person she couldn't read.
But Rudy didn't even look up. He'd lost to his brother again. It hadn't even been a competition. Every bit of progress he'd thought he'd made in life, he saw slipping through his fingers. Chloe didn't have to read his mind to see the shame on his face.
She wanted to tell him it was enough, more than enough, that he'd tried.
But deep down she didn't feel it was.
Trying and failing sounded noble on paper. Lost causes were romantic.
In reality, it all just hurt.
No more hurting.
Stop it, Chloe repeated, and the universe answered.