the door. They parted and let the commander in. The room was mostly empty when she entered. Loud complaints turned to silence. Some of the captains nodded to Valeria. Others gave sullen looks to her. She took a seat next to Frang, to keep a closer eye on him, and then she looked at the other captains across the table.
“Are we waiting for anyone else?” she asked, dreading about the answer. The men seemed clueless. Some of them shrugged.
Fifteen captains, she thought to herself. That’s all I am left with. Then the door opened and two young men in military uniforms rushed in.
“Apologies, commander. We had trouble landing on your ship,” said one of them and they both took their seats. “Most of your automatic guiding systems are still inoperative,” he added. “We had to do it manually.”
Valeria nodded to him. At least I still have two fighters, she thought with a dose of relief.
“Gentlemen,” she put her hands on the table, “the latest events caused division among our forces.” Forces … such a powerful word but completely useless in our case. “You must understand that the man you saw on the transmission was not Emperor Lucius Cornelius Venator. It was an imposter, a trickery made by the usurper to weaken our resolve.”
Some of the captains shifted in their seats. “He seemed real enough,” muttered someone.
Valeria didn’t try to find out who it was, she just replied, “He seemed real enough. I cannot state how correct you are. Whoever made that copy of him did a remarkable job. But I assure you, it was not the emperor.”
“How do you know?” asked another captain. “As far as I can tell, we are following a psychopathic cripple who thinks he is the emperor while the true Lucius Cornelius Venator is preparing to end the war as we speak.”
The CIC turned dark in anger. A spotlight gave focus to the captain who said the words. Ovidius, captain of the Sand Storm – said her cranial computer. Valeria narrowed her eyes and gave the captain a long stare under her eyebrows. “If I were you, Captain Ovidius, I would carefully consider my next words. Treason does not go unpunished.”
Captain Ovidius sat relaxed in his seat. His eyes stared back at her, completely unmoved by her words. Valeria wondered what would qualify as a good death for this traitor; to sever his head maybe, and then place it in a tiny box so she could send it to suffocate in space. No. That would be too soft.
Another voice violated the stare down. “An unpleasant question it may be, commander, but it still needs an answer.”
Valeria turned her gaze at the other captain who said the words. Another spotlight gave focus to him. Before she could order his execution, the same captain said, “What if Captain Ovidius is right? How do you know it was Lucius Cornelius Venator you found on Timor?”
No. I will not order his execution. I will execute him myself.
Her hand moved under the table, her fingers curled around the pistol on her waist. But then she shook her head – the CIC lit back up, the spotlights over the captains disappeared. The memory of her father took over. It was still fresh. The man she loved, the man who loved her back unconditionally, was vivid before her eyes.
“Because Admiral Valerain Maximus was attending the final council meeting before the riots took place,” she said, her fingers letting go of the pistol. “He sent a transmission to Captain Arrius, saying the prince was on his way to Timor. Aquila was supposed to support him, to protect him, but…” She lowered her head. “We failed.” The moon base was riddled with craters, she remembered. The satellite dish was half gone, almost as if some gigantic rodent had a tasty snack. Every wall had collapsed by the bombardment, burying anyone who dared enter. Valeria moved her gaze around the captains. “The Imperial forces had leveled the moon base when we arrived. I was dispatched to lead a small team on the surface, to try and find the prince. All we found was his head – the Imperial steel and gold deformed from the explosions, his skin melted and vaporized – but it was him, there was no doubt about it.” She could still remember how she fought the urge to scream when the man she admired the most was being turned into nothing more than unrecognizably-deformed ball of metal. “Captain Arrius summoned us back before we could finish our search for the prince’s companions. We were told that the Praetorian Guard was running a cleaning operation inside the fleet. Every man who thought that the Praetorians betrayed Emperor Titus was executed. Aquila was next on their list.” She paused for a moment, her eyes moving from one captain to another. Some of them listened wide-eyed to her story, others nodded with somber expressions. “Gentlemen. Captain Arrius said he knew every one of you when he asked you to join the emperor’s cause. He said he would entrust his life in you.” She turned to Captain Frang. I wonder how you came to be here if that was the case. Her gaze swept over the captains once again. “Now return that trust in Captain Arrius. He needs you now more than ever – the emperor needs you more than ever.” Some of the captains seemed convinced, but there were still few who nodded without saying a word, still calculating their positions. But the fact they didn’t leave yet was good enough for her. “You heard the transmission from Palatine,” she went on. “You know what the usurper has done. We cannot let his plan unfold. The future of Palatine, the future of humanity, is in your hands, gentlemen. Help me restore the emperor to his rightful throne and end this madness.”
There was a pondering silence for a moment. Then Ovidius put his hands on the table. He leaned forward. “What you say may be true, commander, I cannot deny that. But how do you plan to defeat this usurper with one battleship that isn’t fully operational, another battleship that is missing, and fifteen merchant ships?”
One of the fighter pilots leaned back on his seat, his metal arm pushing him slightly off the table – Carvinius, pilot of fighter ship Atom. “You forget the fighters,” he said. “They are worth more than your merchant snails.”
Valeria held back her smile. “The former plan still holds, captain,” she said, turning to face Ovidius. “We will raid ships and bases and outposts until we are well-armed, then we will spread the word of the emperor’s existence and we will increase our numbers. If we are lucky, the Praetorians will see their mistake and end the usurper’s life before we can engage in combat.”
“We cannot rely on luck,” muttered the captain and shook his head. It was obvious that it wasn’t something he was hoping to hear.
“In half an hour we must depart,” Valeria said.
“Are we going to raid another ghostly outpost?” asked another captain. This one had patches of differently-colored skin over his face, black and white like a chessboard sewed with white stitches – Herennius, acting captain of the Falling Star. Another pirate, thought Valeria, right hand of Captain Lartius.
Valeria stared at him for a long moment, wondering how to say her next words. And then she just blurted out, “We are going to search for Aquila.” Those words brought murmur inside the CIC. Valeria was afraid that all she said before to keep them here had sunk under water.
“I knew it!” someone said. “The Aquila is gone and so is our cause!”
The murmur slowly grew into clamor.
“Gentlemen!” Valeria tried to calm them down. “Gentlemen, please–!”
There was a thud. It was loud enough to make Valeria think the battleship was under attack, but it also made silence fall into the CIC. Frang had brought his fist down on the table, and he stood up. Valeria’s hand instinctively moved over the pistol grip on her waist. If this pirate defies me I will shoot him, she thought, I swear to gods.
But to her surprise he said, “You whimpering pieces of rusty metal. You call yourselves captains? Cowards, I say! Your emperor has need of you and all you do is seek excuses to leave his service!”
What are you up to, Frang?
“And you dare call us cowards?” Captain Herennius stood up, his finger pointed at Captain Frang. “Look at you, you Bion scum! You–”
Frang climbed over the table. “Come here you coward! I will recycle you!” He crawled toward the captain.
&nb
sp; And then a weapon went off.
Frang froze in place. Herennius raised his hands. All eyes turned to Valeria who was holding the pistol pointed up. Smoke still plumed out of the nozzle and the hole on the overhead. I will start executing you, she wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. It was not the way to win them over. “Gentlemen, we are too few to quarrel among ourselves. Keep your anger for our enemies. Gods know we have enough of them already.”
Suddenly, the entire CIC turned red with blinking lights. The sound of the alarm howled from above. Valeria received a message from the command bridge – All units report to your battle stations. I repeat. All units report to your battle stations.
“What’s happening?” asked Captain Ovidius.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be good,” said another.
The rest of them stood up and started giving commands to their ships.
Valeria rushed out the door, pushing two captains to let her pass, and she headed toward the elevator. Frang and Galerius were right behind her.
She sent to the bridge – Give me full report.
The voice that spoke in her head was female – There is an unknown vessel approaching on our position, commander.
What do you mean unknown? – she sent again.
They have no IFF signature and they are not responding to any of our hails.
Is it Bion? – Valeria