A Show of Force (34 page)

“Keep the Falcons and the Scouts on them,” Nathan replied. “Nothing escapes.”

“Captain,” Ensign Souza called from the communications station at the back of the bridge, “I’m getting a request for a fire mission from our forces on the surface.”

“With all the turbulence in Weldon’s upper atmosphere, our accuracy is going to be decreased,” Luis warned. “There’s going to be a lot of collateral damage.”

“Who’s making the request?” Nathan asked.

“Commander Telles, sir,” Ensign Souza responded.

“Pass the targeting data to tactical,” Nathan ordered. He looked at his friend at the tactical station, noting the look of concern on his face. “We don’t question the decisions of the guys on the ground,” Nathan said, “especially when it’s Telles. If he’s asking for orbital strikes this early in the assault, then he’s got a damned good reason. Take out every target he gives you, Lieutenant.”

CHAPTER NINE

Casimir sat on the judge’s bench in the middle of the vast arena, adorned in both the colors of his house, and those of Takara. The rows of seats surrounding him were filled with several thousand attendees, many of them from the noble houses of Takara, as well as members of the media covering the ten-day trial. He knew what was coming, and although he did not look forward to it, he was well aware of his responsibilities to both the people of Takara, as well as to the member worlds of the Alliance to which he had pledged his world’s support.

More importantly, he had a responsibility to Nalaya, whose face was all he saw every time he looked at any of the defendant’s faces. His position required his impartiality, which he could not promise. For that reason, he had insisted on a jury trial for Lord Dahra and his cohorts. He might still hold the right of passing sentence, but the guilt or innocence of those accused would be in the hands of their fellow nobles, a majority vote of which would seal their fate.

The doors on the side of the arena floor to Casimir’s left opened, and the three defendants, Lord Dahra, Lord Tammer, and Lord Markly, were led in by members of the Takaran security forces. All three lords were dressed in the colors of their houses, each of them looking as if they were on their way to a meeting of Parliament, rather than about to face a verdict. Immediately behind them was their team of highly paid advocates, who had argued cleverly on their behalf, hinting at complex conspiracies and falsification of evidence by operatives of house Takara, but in the end had been unable to prove any of their claims.

The trial had been both a serious prosecution and a circus, with the state making a clean and concise case against the three nobles, and the advocates attempting to muddle the issues at every turn. Although it made for great teasers on the daily news broadcasts, the people of Takara found the advocacy’s tactics laughable, if not offensive.

Mercifully, the trial had been fast, as required by Takaran law. Although the actions of the defendants had not been directed at Takara as a whole, their attempt to assassinate the leader of a noble house for personal gain did constitute an act of treason, according to the Charter of Torrence, which both gave the noble houses their power as well as controlled that power.

The doors on the opposite side of the arena opened, and the prosecutor and his staff walked out onto the floor. The arena became quiet with anticipation, and the media began turning on their vid-cams in preparation.

Finally, the leaders of the forty-eight noble houses of Takara, including the sons of those accused, entered the room and took their seats in the jury box. Casimir looked toward his daughter, Deliza, who sat in one of the lower boxes alongside Yanni Hiller and Major Bellen, the chief of security for House Ta’Akar. She had attended every moment of the trial, sitting through endless arguments and ramblings, never breaking down, never showing anything but strength as the details of that night were repeatedly reviewed for all the people of Takara to witness. A year ago, she had been an innocent young girl living on Haven, her only care in the world being concerns of physics and computers, and perhaps a boy or two at school in town. Now she sat as the princess of Takara, first heir to the most noble house, all of which she would gladly do without if it meant she could have her sister and her mother back.

The nobles took their seats in the jury box. Casimir cleared his throat, then turned on his microphone. “Members of the jury, have you completed your deliberations?”

Lord Banning, the most senior member of the jury stood to respond. “Yes, we have.”

“As to the charge of treason against Lord Dahra, what is the count?” Casimir asked.

“The count is split, twenty-four to twenty-four.”

Casimir closed his eyes to hide his disappointment from the audience. “As to the charge of treason against Lord Tammer, what is the count?”

“The count is split, twenty-four to twenty-four,” Lord Banning replied.

“And the charge of treason against Lord Markly, what is the count?”

“Again, the count is split, twenty-four to twenty-four.”

Casimir’s heart sank. He had not expected a unanimous verdict, but he had certainly expected a majority. Now, a more difficult situation presented itself. He had no doubt that the nobles had sought to test his resolve, but they had done so at the expense of not only three of their fellow nobles, but also that of a child… his child.

Casimir took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on those of his last remaining child. “I shall not speak of my disappointment in the noble houses of Takara, nor shall I speak of the points of law that make twenty-four of your decisions obvious ploys to force my hand. Twenty-four of you have chosen to use the vagaries of Takaran law and the Charter of Torrence to steer the events in the direction of your choosing, thus placing me in the most precarious of positions.”

Casimir took another deep breath before continuing. “As the leader of the most powerful noble house of Takara, and the de facto ruler of Takara due to the temporary suspension of Parliament during these hearings, the fate of these three men falls on me. As required, I shall do the impossible, and put aside my emotions as a father who has lost his child, and as a Takaran who has seen his world fall into disarray at the hands of men who care more about their fortunes and positions than the people they are sworn to protect.” Casimir looked at the three defendants. “Lord Dahra, Lord Tammer, Lord Markly… I vote guilty as charged.”

A low rumble of voices rose in the arena.

“You are therefore hereby convicted of treason against the Charter of Torrence and the Government of Takara, a charge for which there is normally only one sentence… that of execution.”

The low rumble of voices grew more intense, rising in volume.

Casimir rose, walking around the bench and down the stairs to the floor below, as he spoke to those in attendance as well as the recently convicted nobles. “However, in the interest of peace, I offer you a concession. Admit your guilt now, before your fellow nobles and the people of Takara, and I shall spare the fortunes of your respective houses, allowing them to be passed on to your successors upon your execution, all without loss of position within Takaran society.”

Casimir walked toward the three convicted nobles, becoming more empowered with every step. “Refuse my offer, and your fortunes shall be sacrificed. Your families shall become commoners, without resource or position, most likely forced to work as servants in other noble houses. Refuse my offer, and your names shall forever carry disgrace.” Casimir’s voice become strong, and full of conviction. “Refuse my offer, and your executions shall be swift and immediate.” He stopped no more than two meters from Lord Dahra. “How say you, Lord Dahra?”

“You wouldn’t dare carry out such an execution!” Lord Markly proclaimed.

“You forget, Lord Markly, I have killed before… on many occasions, in fact, and never with more hatred than I carry at this moment,” Casimir said through gritted teeth.

“Markly is correct,” Lord Dahra stated calmly. “If you kill us, you risk a civil war, the likes of which Takara has never seen. In fact, I doubt you will find anyone willing to carry out the execution.”

“Then perhaps I shall do so myself,” Casimir replied. He moved directly in front of Lord Dahra, standing less than half a meter away. “How say you, Lord Dahra? Are you willing to confess your crimes? Are you willing to save your name and your family? Are you willing to save Takara from itself?”

Lord Dahra looked Casimir in the eye, then spoke with utter calm. “I stand by my innocence, as well as the innocence of my fellow nobles.”

“As you wish,” Casimir replied with equal calm. He put out his right hand, angling it slightly behind him. “Officer of the Guard, your weapon.”

Another rumble went up throughout the arena as the officer of the guard stepped forward.

“My lord, are you sure you…”

“Your weapon,” Casimir repeated. The officer pulled his energy pistol from his holster and handed it to Casimir, then took a step back.

The crowd became louder, not believing what they were seeing.

“Lord Dahra, Lord Tammer, Lord Markly. You have been convicted of treason against the people of Takara, and the Charter of Torrence. For this charge, the sentence is death, swift and immediate.”

“If you kill us,” Lord Dahra said under his breath, “we will become martyrs, and those who believe as us will rise up against you.”

Casimir raised his weapon and took aim at Lord Dahra’s face. “I’m counting on it,” he muttered as he pulled the trigger. His weapon fired, sending an energy bolt between the eyes of Lord Dahra. The weapon was set to a low power setting, just enough to kill instantly, but not enough to cause a gruesome spectacle. He immediately took aim at Lord Tammer and fired, then Lord Markly.

The crowd erupted in equal parts objection and approval. “I shall not tolerate those who cannot follow the laws laid down by the so-called noble houses of Takara centuries ago!” Casimir proclaimed, turning slowly as he spoke to all those in attendance. He then turned to the forty-eight nobles standing in the jury box, their mouths still agape. “Follow me, and I shall fight and die for each of you! Challenge me, and you shall die by my own hand!”

Without another word, Casimir turned to exit, handing the weapon back to the officer of the guard. He looked at Major Bellen, who was already rushing Deliza and Yanni out of the arena. The fuse had been lit. Now he just had to wait for the explosion.

* * *

Loki sat in the pilot’s briefing room, spinning his stylus on the desk in front of him. It had been a grueling day, with knowledge tests, orals, and flight tests that had started at sunrise and continued nonstop through to evening. He had finished his last test flight more than an hour ago, and could be lying in his bunk, but instead he had chosen to wait for Josh. They had come this far together, and it only seemed right that they learn their respective futures in the Alliance the same way.

Loki knew that he had most likely passed the knowledge and oral tests, as such things had always come easily to him. He was also fairly certain that he had passed the flight tests as well, as despite the fact that his flying had been average, he had not busted any of the performance limitations. What he was more concerned about was Josh. His friend would undoubtedly pass the flight tests, but the knowledge tests, and especially the oral tests, might be another story altogether. It had taken Josh weeks to understand some of the most basic mathematical formulas needed, and even longer to get a good grasp of meteorology and aerodynamics. Josh was a ‘throttle to the stops and blast through it’ kind of pilot, which was not what the Corinari preferred.

The door swung open, and Josh came bursting into the room in his usual fashion, as if expecting everyone present to go ‘yeah, Josh is here.’ It was a trait that Loki had always found somewhat annoying, although he had learned to ignore it for the most part.

“You’re still here,” Josh exclaimed as he dropped his flight gear and continued into the room. “I figured you’d be passed out on your bunk by now.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I know our results,” Loki replied. “How did you do?”

“Flight test was a snap. I did like you said, and tried to fly like you. I think what I gave them was a mix… you know, a little you and a little me. The you in me kept me from being too much me, if you know what I mean. And the me in me kept me from being too…”

“I get it,” Loki interrupted.

“How did you do?” Josh asked as he sat down on the desk in front of Loki.

“I think I did okay.”

“Did you fly a little like me?” Josh wondered.

“No, I was afraid to.”

“Wuss.”

“Pretty much,” Loki conceded. “How did you do on the knowledge test?”

“I’m trying to forget about that,” Josh replied. “Hey, what did you answer for that question about… what was it… thrust vector angle change rate, or something like that?”

“Thrust vector sweep rate. One seven five aft, one two zero forward.”

“Shit. Guess I’m headed back to Haven.”

“That’s only one question, Josh. There were two hundred questions on that exam.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not the only one I got wrong. Plus, I may have mouthed off a bit during my orals.”

“You didn’t insult the examiner, did you?”

“Not directly,” Josh said. “I just said any idiot knew that. Turns out, he didn’t… therefore…”

“Josh…”

“Hey, I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

“Or bored, or excited, or angry…”

“Alright, I get your point.” Josh patted the pockets of his flight suit, looking for something. “I’m starving. You got any of those nut bars left?”

Loki pulled one out of his pocket and tossed it to Josh. “My last one.”

“Thanks,” Josh said as he tore the wrapper open and took a bite. “Hey, if we fail, do you think they’ll give us a ride back to the Pentaurus cluster, or do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

“I’m sure they would give us a ride back, eventually. More likely we’ll go back to chauffeuring Abby to and from work.”

“No way. Don’t get me wrong, I like Abby, but that is about the most boring job there is.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Hell, I’d rather go back to flying a harvester,” Josh exclaimed. “At least that was actual hands-on-the-controls flying.”

The door opened again, and Major Prechitt entered the room. Josh stuffed the last of the nut bar into his mouth as he slid off the table and stood at attention next to Loki.

“As you were, gentlemen,” Major Prechitt said as he approached. He dropped his data pad on the desk and pulled up a chair from the row in front of the desk. “Take a seat.”

Loki looked at Josh as they sat.

“I have your test results from earlier, and I’ve spoken to both of your flight examiners. Normally, it would take several days for the results to be reviewed and a decision made. However, things are not normal. There are only two applicants and this is
not
the Corinari. Lucky for you, because if it were, neither of you would have passed.”