The conference room onboard the Deliverance was cramped, as was every room inside the warship’s confined hull. No effort had been spared to conserve space; the table in the center of the room was a simple affair that barely seated eight people. Those seats were snug against the wall as well, and it was difficult to scoot them far enough away to sit in them, let alone far enough to get decent leg room. Projection equipment, climate controls and other needed elements for a commander’s room were stored underneath the table, close enough that Gabe could bump against them merely by moving his feet forward. It was not the most comfortable of situations.
Then again, even a throne room at the center of a palace wouldn’t have felt welcoming at the moment. His father and Admiral Delacourt had joined him, along with a handful of guests. The first wore the slightly abused uniform of a Directorate officer. He had been retrieved, along with less than a hundred of his fellows, from the belly of the Concord. The captain, a Commodore Essen, had died when the Outriders had taken the vessel, leaving Commander Mesic the highest-ranking officer among the remaining crews.
The second guest wore civilian garb, though a distinctive red sash set him apart from a mere innocent bystander. His sharp eyes were set deep in his young face, which already seemed lined with responsibility and authority. The Keeper of the Records had only just started his term in office after the death of his father two years ago, but he had apparently already learned his father’s hatred of the Way. His attendance here, though made possible by Wayfarer boarding crews, had not been pleasant so far.
Admiral Delacourt had been faced with the need to explain the situation to the various parties, and Gabe did not envy her the task. She had reached the end of her presentation, however, and he began to brace himself for the onslaught to come.
“From the evidence we have seen, the Outriders—also known as Bennett Securities—intended to use the Directorate ships as tools for a terrorist attack. The light cruisers Defiance and Relentless were rigged to explode once their Outrider crews had ejected, along with the Compass. Those explosives were detonated in advance due to signal disruption provided by the rigs from our fleet.”
She paused. “The Concord, on the other hand, had been rigged for a planetary strike. The carrier was intended to dive into the atmosphere of Eris and strike in or near the city of New Sonora, wiping out the followers of the Way in addition to blaming the incident on the Wayfarer defense forces. Had the operation succeeded, there would have been millions of casualties, if not billions, and both the Concord flotilla and the Wayfarers would be eliminated as a result. Bennett Securities could then assist the Guard with the task of sweeping up any remaining Wayfarers, and would receive the prestige and rewards associated with that task.”
Commander Mesic spoke. “You mean they were going to murder us? Wipe all of us out just for some extra contract money?”
Gabe coughed. “Yes, Commander, we believe that’s what they were going to do. The presence of the bodies of the original crews would have given more evidence that it had been our attack which caused the incident.”
“Or so you believe, Wayfarer.” The harsh accusation in the Keeper’s voice was obvious, and he turned to Delacourt with stubborn recalcitrance on his face. “Do you have any other evidence for your supposed enemies’ plans? Other than your circumstantial clues and your guesswork?”
Clark spoke up, his voice gentle. “Keeper Schreiber, we have already begun questioning the Outrider personnel, and their instructions appear to match the description that Admiral Delacourt has given you. You can, and will, be given access to their interrogation records, as well as all the other evidence we have the ability to provide.”
Schreiber snorted. “Men under torture will say anything, and evidence can be easily planted once you have possession of the vessels in question. How can I rely on that for the truth?”
The question almost amazed Gabe with its outright refusal to recognize the truth right in front of them. He looked at the Keeper in annoyance. “Did we also fabricate the mercenaries who shot their way aboard your ships and killed your crews? Or the explosives you walked past in order to leave the Compass? I’m pretty sure you had a good view of that, even though they had stuck you in a cell for a few days. You know, before we broke you out.”
The Keeper gave him a condescending grin. “And how convenient that was. Almost as if you could have paid them to give way for you. It would be quite a political coup for you to rescue me and make me your friend. Especially since it would justify your military buildup nicely, wouldn’t it?” He shook his head. “The evidence I remember the most is the fact that those cruisers were destroyed as a result of your actions, and that our ships were strafed by your rigs. I fail to see anything here that overrides those facts.”
“I am sorry to hear that you feel that way, Keeper.” His father had watched the exchange with a genuinely regretful expression, and his eyes were filled with a quiet kind of sorrow that Gabe had not seen since his mother had passed. “Whatever you might think of us, and of our beliefs, I hoped you would not believe that we would stoop to murder in order to justify ourselves to the Known Worlds. However much you might accuse us of lying or blasphemy, I hoped you would recognize our devotion to life and to the Lord’s Way.”
His father’s words seemed to have little effect on the Keeper, other than to harden his expression still further. “Your Way is an abomination, an apostasy. Don’t think I have forgotten all the lies you preach as a so-called Speaker simply because you have marched some trumped-up evidence before me. The Lord will show you the folly of your actions soon enough, once the Directorate hears of this act of piracy.”
“Your pardon, Keeper Schreiber, but I believe that the Directorate will do little more than thank the Wayfarers for their help and let the matter drop.” Commander Mesic’s interruption brought the attention of everyone in the room to bear, and he shook his head. “The loss of the cruisers was unfortunate, but had they not interfered, we would likely all be dead.” He nodded to Admiral Delacourt. “My thanks for your help, Admiral.”
Delacourt simply inclined her head in acknowledgment. Her expression was grave. “I only wish we had known about the traps set for the Defiance and Relentless, Commander. Those crews deserved a better fate.” She fell silent for a moment, and then continued. “Regardless of the background to the engagement, we will need to coordinate to deal with the aftermath. As I understand it, both Concord and Compass lack the crew needed to maintain their essential functions. As such, I propose that we provide temporary crew members until the Directorate sends replacements. Would you consent to that arrangement?”
Commander Mesic nodded, though reluctance was plain on his face. The Keeper, on the other hand, nearly exploded out of his seat. “Absolutely not! I want no Wayfarer scum onboard the Compass, not while she remains my property. Your kind are not to be trusted.”
Gabe snorted. “And I suppose you’ll be piloting her yourself, then? The ship probably needs a crew of at least eighty. There’s barely that many left from the Concord, and you’re the only one left from your crew. How are you planning to manage that?”
Schreiber snarled at him from across the table. “What is it you Wayfarers are always saying? The Lord will provide a way?” He turned. “Better I drift in space than rely on you snakes for help.” The Keeper stalked from the room, and silence followed the sound of the door sliding shut.
Delacourt broke the quiet with a frustrated hiss of air. “I don’t understand how we are supposed to compensate for the situation, then. We can’t afford to leave the Compass here. Humanitarian concerns aside, if the ship is destroyed while in our company, we will be held responsible whether we asked for it or not.”
As Gabe opened his mouth to offer a somewhat less charitable suggestion for how to dispose of the Keeper, his father cut him off. “Might I offer a suggestion, Admiral?” Delacourt deferred to the Speaker with a simple gesture, and he continued. “If we allow the Directorate personnel to man the Compass, we could avoid any conflict with the Keeper and still have both ships underway as soon as possible. Do you have any objections, Commander Mesic?”
The Directorate officer shook his head. “No, I believe that solution would be remarkably well suited to the situation.” He paused. “I would ask you, as a personal favor, to avoid maneuvering the Concord as if it was a member of your defense force, however. I do not want the wrong kind of implication generated by our current situation.”
Gabe again started to respond, but Delacourt gave him a stern look. “Thank you, Commander Mesic. I can assure you that we will do our best.” The Directorate officer nodded and stood. When he had left, Gabe turned an incredulous stare on the admiral.
“How exactly are we going to avoid that? If Concord doesn’t maneuver with us, she’ll be as open to attack as if she had never been rescued. Another raid by the Outriders could retake her, which would be just as bad as if Compass died.”
“I am aware of that fact, Captain Gabriel.” Delacourt turned a smoldering stare on him. It had probably been a poor idea to remind her of his existence. “Commander Mesic is only doing his duty as an officer of the Directorate. You should consider his offer one of gratitude at the very least; under the Emergency Powers Act, he is well within his rights to impress our crews and the rest of the fleet as units of the Directorate. If we are to keep the illusion that we are only an undeclared anti-piracy force.” She raised an eyebrow at Gabe’s father, and the Speaker nodded.
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“We are still nominally part of the Known Worlds, Admiral Delacourt, though I wonder how long our enemies here will continue to accommodate that situation.” The Speaker tapped a series of commands into a console that had been set into the table at his chair, and the projectors beneath the table hummed to life. “There are a few other points of data that I felt we needed to discuss, though I did not think it would be wise to do so with our guests present.”
Gabe blinked in surprise. His father rarely kept anything a secret; though he did occasionally attempt to keep a portion of his personal life private, he made no moves that he feared becoming public later. The reason his father had made an exception became abundantly clear as he continued.
“Early this afternoon, I received a report from a reliable source that indicates that the Eris Guard is preparing to denounce our actions and use them as an excuse not only to tighten their ‘containment’ activities around New Sonora, but also to expel our forces from the Defense Station and create a task force to bring us down. Several news outlets apparently have prepared news briefs that will support the style of conspiracy theory the Keeper has just advocated, and there will be very few people who believe that our recordings are not altered or adjusted to benefit us.”
Delacourt sighed, and Gabe gave her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Admiral. You gave it a good effort, though. I’ll give you that much.” She glared at him.
Clark rapped a knuckle on the table-top to regain his fickle audience’s attention. “Unfortunately, that is not the only obstacle with which the Lord has seen fit to try us.” He paused and looked away, his face uncharacteristically morose. “I received a pair of messages today, from the Council and from the bureau in charge of the Grant Yards.
“The first message we might as well have expected. The Council has found itself motivated to respond to our request earlier than we had hoped. They declare us treacherous, pronounce us apostate, and threaten that if we do not disarm our fleet within thirty days in Eris time, they will authorize the Guard to seek our destruction. They also promise the Directorate’s involvement in that extermination if the Concord and Compass are not released from our care in the next thirty days.”
Gabe’s eyes widened. He had heard of proclamations from the Council to this effect, but only a few times before had the Known Worlds given a serious deadline for the elimination of the people involved. Most had been able to buy their way into the good graces of the Council through bribing the correct officials or succumbing to their demands. Those who had not had fled to the protection of the Wild Colonies or been annihilated. He had no doubt which fate the Council had planned for the Wayfarers.
He had half a second to wonder what message could possibly have had a greater impact than the first before his father continued. “The Grant Yards have been notified of the decision in advance. Apparently, there is an unofficial addendum to the judgment: anyone found coming to our aid before the deadline, or even afterward, has been threatened with the Council’s extreme displeasure. Therefore, the Yards have decided to nullify our original contract. Epoch will remain unfinished, and our payments toward it confiscated.” His father gave them a sickly grin. “I have heard that a particular donation from the Yards has been expected by the Directorate to make up for their previous intentions. The amount sounds suspiciously similar to the funds we provided them.”
A silence followed the news, and Gabe felt stunned down to his bones. The Epoch had been their only hope of escape, of survival. How could the Lord have expected them to manage without it? He opened his mouth to ask the question, and then met his father’s eyes. Despondency bordering on despair lurked there, though it was just as obvious that the Speaker was fighting it. Gabe restrained himself from a shudder, and struggled to speak. “Father, what would the Lord have us do now? Without our fleet, we are helpless, and with our fleet, we are doomed. Without a place to run, will He leave us here on Eris to die?”
Despite his efforts, Gabe found his voice growing harsh, even desperate. His father shook his head, and when he spoke, his words were heavy in Gabriel’s ears. “I do not know, my son. I have received no more instructions from the Lord. Every prayer has only directed me to continue our preparations, but now…” His voice trailed off, and he looked down. “At times the Lord asks us to sacrifice everything for His work. I know it is a hard thing to bear, Gabriel, but we may be called to lay down our lives here. Perhaps some might escape, or perhaps the example might turn the course of the Known Worlds to the will of the Lord.”
Gabe clenched his fists. “Surely He would not have us surrender to this? He would have told us!”
“The will of the Lord is His own, Gabriel. You know that.” The Speaker stood. “I must tell the people the news. They deserve to know. Their faith has earned them that much.”
Despair crashed in on Gabe, and he stayed in his seat as his father walked to the door. He could not believe it. All their sacrifices, all their hard work, all their faith had come to nothing. Just another nameless massacre, news for the week, and then forgotten. Disbelief, rage, and disappointment swirled in him, and then it happened. An idea came.
“Wait.”
Gabe looked up and found Delacourt staring at him. His father stopped and turned around. His expression, still half-frozen in resignation, had lightened into an uncertain hope. “Yes, Gabriel? Do you have an idea about how we might retrieve the Epoch?”
“No, Father.” He shook his head slowly. Everything seemed so clear—he was actually a little worried that he had snapped. Did the insane always think so plainly? “I’m sure the Directorate already has her under guard, and there’s no way they’d let us have her. Instead, let’s just replace the Epoch altogether.”
Delacourt laughed bitterly. “And how are we going to do that? The Epoch has taken months to build. The resonance drive alone is impossible to construct without specialized skills that we don’t have. You can’t just make a colony ship appear out of thin air. Even if you could, how would you manage to gain control of it?”
Gabe shrugged. “We don’t need to, Admiral. The ship’s already here, and we’re pretty much going to be driving it to Eris for the next little while.”
Dealcourt stared at him. He could see a look of comprehension creeping over her features. When he turned toward his father, though, he found the Speaker still looking back and forth between them, uncertain but hopeful. “Gabriel, what do you mean? What ship?”
“It’s obvious, Father. Right in front of us.” Gabe tapped a few controls to bring up an image. “As I understand it, the needs of a colony ship are as follows: A functional resonance drive to help us leave the networks provided by the Known Worlds or the Wild Colonies. Sufficient gravitic tether capability to anchor the rest of the fleet so we can carry them into the cascade. Effective facilities and living space that would provide a significant number of travelers with a new home. The ability to function during the long time required for us to bridge the stars. Finally, if possible, defenses to guard against destruction or subversion.” He looked up. “Am I right?”
His father nodded, seeming somewhat dazed at the sudden hope that had reappeared on the horizon. “Yes, of course, but—”
Delacourt held up one thin hand. “In terms of these basic requirements, there is one ship that already fulfills all of them. The Concord.” Her eyes locked onto Gabriel’s. “Am I correct, Captain Gabriel? You intend to steal the ship we have only just recaptured from pirates?”
“The ship we just lost lives taking back? The ship we would otherwise give back to the very people who robbed us of the Epoch? Yes, yes I am.” Gabe turned back to his father. “The Lord had to have known this would happen. He is giving us an opportunity to fulfill our mission. I know He would not want us to give up this chance, not when there is still hope.”
His father nodded slowly. “You may be right, Gabriel. With Concord, we could even begin the evacuation tomorrow instead of a week from now. The entire population of New Sonora could be ready to go before the month is up.”
Gabe opened his mouth to agree, but Delacourt spoke first. Her voice was cold. “I cannot believe I am hearing this.” He looked back and found her shaking her head in disgust. “This is worse than foolishness. It’s theft. It’s treason! You cannot seriously mean to go through with this plan, Elder Miller. There has to be another way.”
Before his father could answer, Gabe answered her. “And if there isn’t, Admiral? If this is our only chance, will you end up hesitating, like you did before those cruisers exploded?”
Delacourt’s eyes flashed. “I will not hesitate, Captain Gabriel. I will resign. Not once did I consent to an illegal or treacherous action against Directorate forces, and I will not do so now.”
“How nice of you to point that out. I wonder if the pilots who died in the battle would feel the same way about your intentions, though.” Gabe crossed his arms and felt a rumble of anger go through his chest. “It sounds like you would rather have us all be killed than risk offending the people who kicked you out when they didn’t need you anymore.”
She sneered at him. “Oh, of course you would see it that way. So straightforward and simple, clear as day. You need something, so you’ll take it. No need to worry about little things like loyalty or honor or gratitude when you’re on the Lord’s errand. Never mind that the men and women you’ll be spiting have been the only thing between your kind and destruction at the hands of the Wilders.” Delacourt snorted. “How brave of you to ignore that as you’re making your plans.”
Gabe shook his head. “This isn’t about honor or loyalty or any of that, Delacourt. It’s about survival. If we don’t leave, we’ll die. Either the Known Worlds will collapse and the Wilders will kill us, or the Council will legislate away our weapons and the Outriders will kill us. Or maybe we’ll try to defend ourselves, and both the Guard and the Directorate will kill us. That’s just how it will be, whether we like it or not.”
Delacourt rolled her eyes. “So now that it’s about survival, there won’t be any more talk about principles, will there? So much for the benefits of the Way. Once things get hard, once they come down to what is really important, you’re just as treacherous and dishonest as anyone else. I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose. You were all bound to be a disappointment at some time or another.”
As Gabe began to rise to the challenge in her words, his father stepped into the conversation again. “Admiral Delacourt, Gabriel, there is little purpose to your conflict. We need to find solutions and answers, not division and turmoil.”
The admiral turned to the Speaker and shook her head. “Perhaps you do, Elder Miller, but I don’t believe that it is my place any longer. If these people are willing to contemplate traitorous actions against the Directorate, I will no longer be willing to lead your fleet.” She paused and sent a heated glare toward Gabe. “I suggest you find some other officer capable of taking my place. Until then, I will remain in my quarters and prepare myself to move on. If you will excuse me.”
With that, Delacourt stepped around Elder Miller and strode out the door. Gabe felt his anger grow as she walked out. What did she expect, that they would just lie down and die? He turned back to his father. “We need the Concord. You know we do. The Lord would not give us this chance if it wasn’t right.”
“Not every opportunity comes from the Lord, Gabriel.” The admonishment gave Gabe pause, but then his father sighed. “I believe you are right, however. The Concord was the ship our ancestors built to defend their freedom and their belief in the Way. There is something right about using it to guarantee the survival of their dreams.” He shook his head. “Still, it does not feel entirely right, and I would not want to lose Admiral Delacourt’s support. She has done so much for us.”
Gabe walked around the table and put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “I know, Father, but she’s not going to bend on this. She’s made her choice. Now we have to make ours.” He glanced toward the open doorway, for some reason half hoping she would return. A hollow feeling spread through him, damping the hope he had felt before. “We’ll just have to go it alone from here.”