Page 68 of Clan and Command

“Where are all the ships? The border with Bi’is can’t be that vulnerable!”

“Only the bare minimum required to defend the border are there now, and they’re stretched thin. Everything else was deployed to defend Kalquor’s main interests or to fight the attack on Rokan and Haven Colonies.” The monitor, a young Dramok probably only a couple of years into his fleet career, had gone pale. “I’m sorry, Admiral, but I’ve got to get to my station. Protocol says I must man my unit during an emergency like this.”

“Go.” Piras released the young man, who hastily bowed and raced off.

He watched the mayhem for a few moments more, listening to the desperate coms coming from Laro’s command staff. Voices from far away reported the huge numbers of ships attacking the station. They demanded to know why the unmanned stations were offline. They begged for destroyers to come to their aid, knowing any help would be too late to save them.

The commander of Communications Central rushed up to Piras. “Admiral, I didn’t see you here in the confusion. Do you wish a direct report to High Command?”

“Yes, Commander. Contact Admiral Hobato’s aide to arrange for information transfer, current and from the beginning of the incident.”

The commander rushed off to comply.

A weight had lodged itself in Piras’s gut as the desperate voices from Laro grew more desperate still. As the pleas for help turned into last reports of the conquered, he pulled his com off his belt and dialed the frequencies of the rest of Fleet’s High Command. He triggered the unit to set off the priority signal, which would stop every admiral in their tracks to listen.

He raised the com to numbed lips and tried to speak. “Rear Ad—”

That was as far as he got before his voice caught, choking off. Piras drew a deep breath and rubbed the stinging emotion from his eyes before trying again. “Rear Admiral Piras to all senior officers of High Command. Emergency meeting required immediately. I repeat, emergency meeting required immediately. Please assemble in the Fleet Admiral’s Hobato’s conference room. Secure tie-ins with all relevant departments. The Basma is attacking Laro Station on the Bi’is border. Fall of the station is imminent. I repeat, Laro Station has been lost to the Basma’s forces.”

He switched off the com, his ears ringing as the frantic last broadcasts of Laro came through. On legs as numb as his lips, he turned and headed for the meeting he’d called.

Chapter 20

Piras remembered few details of the meeting he’d called. The faces of the men around him, with the exception of Hobato, were blurred and featureless. His dazed brain barely managed to record the most basic points.

There was nothing High Command could do to effect the immediate rescue of Laro. For the most part, the admirals sat around or paced in Hobato’s conference room, watching the reports roll in. Voices rose and fell in hectic pulses that made Piras’s aching head throb harder with agony.

The accounts that he did absorb were more terrible than Piras had anticipated. Not only had a large contingent of the Basma’s fleet assaulted the isolated station, but Bi’is hunter-killers had swarmed over the border to join in the fight. At first, Piras had almost shouted a confession in his horror, unable to handle that he’d been an instrumental part of such an abomination. Only Kila’s certainty that even Maf would not stoop so low as to allow Bi’is to gain a real foothold in the Empire kept him silent. He found slim comfort that not enough of the small but lethal Bi’is ships had breached Kalquorian space to overcome Maf’s destroyers. Piras hoped against hope that Maf had brought in Kalquor’s longtime enemy to take Laro down and nothing else. That the hunter-killers would return to their side of the border as soon as the station was secured for the traitors.

It was the faintest glimmer of light in those long, dark hours during which Laro refused to surrender. Casualties mounted as Maf’s soldiers boarded the station and fought its defenders, and Piras could well imagine the piles of bodies of the brave men who’d fought the destruction he’d brought upon them.

Their blood is on my hands. In my heart. I’ll never be able to wash off the stain.

He could have wept with relief when the live feed cut off moments after Laro’s commander confirmed the station was overrun. The final thing they heard was that the auxiliary control room was the last holdout, and the attackers were breaking through the door. Then silence reigned, leaving technicians to report from remote viewing satellites. Their confirmation that the Bi’isil ships were returning to their side of the border appeased no one.

Fierce debate ensued among the High Command admirals. Lost in despair, Piras said nothing as others made their cases as to how soon the fleet must be deployed to reclaim Laro and at what strength. Some insisted that for the moment the station must be given up for lost as Kalquor could not fight on yet another front against Maf. Arguments rose and fell, with nothing being settled. The only thing everyone agreed with was that the immediate future looked horrifically grim.

It was Hobato who set up the temporary plan of action. Each member of High Command was reminded he’d been given a territory to oversee. The fleet admiral turned to Piras, who had been in charge of Laro’s sector. “Tell the border they must contain the enemy for now. Meanwhile, we will determine how we can work the Basma’s split fleet forces to our advantage,” he said heavily. “It may be some time before we can ascertain Maf’s scheme. Once we have some idea, we will act with determination. For now, we will bide our time and plan.”

Piras almost brayed hysterical laughter that he continued to hold sway over the area he’d betrayed. Instead he stumbled out of the conference room along with the rest, looking every bit as shattered and confused as his fellow officers. He walked for some time, not quite aware of his surroundings until he found himself at his secret office’s door.

Piras looked at it for some time, wondering why he’d gone there. He should be planning his next move. Contacting the portion of the fleet under his command. Shoring up the border defenses that were left. What was he doing, coming to the secret office? Why did it seem so important he go in?

As the seconds passed, it came back to him. Kila. He had been on his way to com Kila when Laro had been attacked. Kila was in danger. The spy captain had fallen under suspicion, and Piras needed to warn him to be careful.

Piras staggered into the office, going to the desk to sit behind it. He stared at the com for a moment, his brain freezing once more, stalling when he needed to be moving. Piras shook the inertia off and hit a saved frequency with the desperation of a drowning man reaching for a rescuer.

The voice coming from the com was the first sane thing Piras could remember hearing. “Captain Kila here.”

“It’s me. The Basma’s fleet has taken Laro Station.”

“Piras? You don’t sound good.”

“The casualties…Mother of All, Kila. Laro refused to surrender. It’s a bloodbath, and the Bi’is helped Maf.”

“Fuck me,” Kila swore, and followed that up with a few more foul epithets.

As he cursed, Piras fought to pull his still-scattered thoughts together. He tried to shake off the shock of the past hour and function normally, though there continued to be a strange buzzing in his head and the room around him had a hazy aspect.

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