JBAM, Chapter VIII

If one were to compare a holo of City Hall taken on 20 June with one taken this morning, one would be hard-pressed to realize that the two buildings were the same.  The United Galactic flag that flew so triumphantly from the flagpole had been cast to the ground of the parking lot and run over by a series of APCs before it was unceremoniously pissed on and burned.  The flagpole now flew the Royalist banner, a cross of golden flames on a burgundy field, and underneath it the flag of the United Church of the Creator.
Two squadrons of Shinobi enforced a no-fly zone over three square kilometers around the building; no vehicle was allowed past the perimeter in either direction unless it passed inspection.
In place of the podium, five steel posts with manacles now stood, for use in executions.

All in all, fear was the word of the day.  Kervorkian knew all this, and didn't give much of a damn one way or the other.  He had never been much for pomp and ceremony.  It wasn't that he didn't enjoy a good party; he merely found pomp and ceremony to be a waste of useful resources.

Mayhem ruled the streets.  The crime rate had shot up overnight with the arrest, trial, and summary execution of the police chief and other high-ranking government officials.  His men had been ordered to shoot looters on sight, but he knew that a number of them were probably involved in the looting.  Anyway, his men were more interested in killing nonhumans; some of the violence against them was almost enough to trouble even Kervorkian.  One female Darkstarian had been raped several times, then had her throat slit.  The worst of the anti-alien violence was against the few Anz'kalarads in the city; what had been done to one of them defied sane description.

Kervorkian knew he'd need to throttle back on the violence soon, but for the time being he had decided to let the victors enjoy their spoils.  The Anz'kalarads, in particular, deserved it after what they'd done to his ancestors.

Malek Prime was settled over a thousand years before, back in -5 GSD, by refugees from the United Powers War.  The Anz'kalarad Principalities had attacked humanity without warning or provocation.  The war lasted for eleven years, with atrocities on both sides that were beyond reason.  None, however, were worse than the cold-blooded murder of three million human refugees over the planet Rimerta.  The perpetrator:  Yanzo Vashi Parata Toron, Prince of Anz'moria.  The survivors fled to the galactic southwest and founded a colony on the planet Malek Prime.

These refugees were members of the United Church of the Creator, a sect that had broken from mainstream Christianity long before.  Their archbishop was among them.  With the colonists' blessing, the archbishop anointed Captain Kenneth Kervorkian as their High Lord.

(Kervorkian didn't know that Yanzo was killed for the Rimerta Massacre later that year by one of the Auroran-Federation alliance leaders, an Orion with the warrior name KarHallarn who was ironically an escaped Anz'kalarad slave.)

Nine hundred years passed from then until the founding of the UGF.  The Galactics made contact with Malek Prime in 925 GSD; the Malekites were astonished at the flashy starships of the newcomers, as they had only recently rediscovered the hyperdrive.  (Technological backslides like this aren't uncommon in colonies that lose contact with home.)  The Church, however, reacted with fear and anger at the sight of nonhumans among the Galactic ranks.  They could not comprehend or countenance the fact that nonhumans -- particularly the cursed Anz'kalarads -- now worked side-by-side with their mortal enemies of nine hundred years past.  When Galactic diplomats invited Malek Prime to join the UGF, the archbishop and the High Lord -- Kervorkian's grandfather, Kenneth VI -- refused, and ordered them to leave the system.

The damage, however, was done.  A great schism began to develop in Malekite society.  On one side, those who had forgotten the terror of the United Powers War and saw only the bright lights of the UGF.  On the other, the loyalists who recognized the lights as merely gilded shadows.

From there it was only a matter of time (twenty years) before civil war broke out.  The military broke in two.  Death squads from both sides ruled the streets and suburbs, executing anyone they thought supported the other side.

Fearful civilians fled the cities in droves.  One of them, a teenage delinquent named Ian Flaherty, managed to secure access to a hypercomm beacon that had been left behind by the Galactics.  He sent a distress signal that was quickly answered by the Galactic Senate on Coruscant.  After a brief study of the situation, the Galactics arbitrarily decided both sides were at fault, and dispatched the United Galactic Navy's Fifth Battle Group to stop the bloodshed.  Surgical airstrikes destroyed several strongholds.  These were followed by the deployment of power-armored Galactic Marines, armed with the latest energy weapons against Malekite machine guns.  The Galactic offensive brought a sudden and crushing defeat to both loyalists and rebels, and ended the civil war with minimal civilian casualties.

Kervorkian's father fled Malek Prime with five divisions of Royalist troops as the newly elected planetary governor took office amid popular jubilation.  The first act signed by the governor was an acceptance of the UGF's twenty-year old offer of membership.

Now Kervorkian was back.  And he was ready to destroy the last traces of Galactic influence on his world.  The Anz'kalarad murderers would be brought to justice, and all who opposed the Lord's armies with them.

Elsewhere, one of the so-called "murderers" was crying her eyes out over the death of her brother.  Avril tightly embraced her as she sobbed against his chest.

Somebody knocked on her door.  "What?"

The door slid open and Lieutenant Colonel Jimenez walked in.  "Should I leave?"

Kalavic shook her head, then opened her tear-reddened eyes and looked at the human.  "What did you want?"

"Do you recall Major Williams mentioning a proposition back in the hangar?"

She racked her memory.  "Vaguely."

"Would you like to hear about it?"

"Does it have to happen now?" Avril asked.

He sighed, then nodded.  "The sooner we get a decision made, the sooner we can get the situation back under control."

She nodded.  He motioned the two Anz'kalarads to follow him, then walked briskly out of the room.

They came to a conference room door, and Jimenez punched a key.  The door slid open and he walked in.

Kalavic stopped dead in her tracks, taking in the well-appointed conference room.  The centerpiece was a long rectangular wooden table with computer insets at every chair.  At the head was a raised platform, upon which stood a podium flanked by two flagpoles.  On the right hung the United Galactic standard, a dark blue circle crisscrossed by white longitude and latitude lines, flanked by two green laurel branches, all upon a pale blue-gray field.  On the left was the simpler Malek Prime flag, a green X on a white field.  Behind the podium was a large computer screen.  The podium itself was occupied by General Flaherty.  Four militiamen and four United Galactic Army soldiers in mess dress flanked the room.

Kalavic thought, Talk about pomp and circumstance.  The formidable decor and uniforms of the other people in the room made her feel minuscule.  She shivered as she sat next to a female Darkstarian whose name tag and insignia identified her as Second Lieutenant Karaman of the United Galactic Fighter Corps.  Avril sat next to her, and Jimenez took a seat across from her, next to Major Williams.

A few more people filed into the room, then the lights dimmed until only General Flaherty at the podium was lit clearly.  He punched a key, bringing up a map of the system on the screen behind him.  "As I'm assuming you're all aware, at approximately 1800 hours on 21 June, the Malek System was attacked by a rogue fleet under the command of one Marcus Kervorkian.  He claimed to be rightful ruler of the system, and when he discovered that the starliner SS Lightwing STC had a nonhuman captain, his flagship, a New Japan Shipyards Shogun-class battlecruiser christened MPS Majestic, opened fire on the liner and destroyed it.  His forces then proceeded to wipe out ninety percent of the United Galactic and militia forces in the system.  They have blockaded the planet and stated their intent to destroy any resisters."

He stopped for a moment, then brought up a sketch of Kervorkian, probably based on Kalavic's own description.  "We have very little information on Marcus Kervorkian, but we believe his claim to the throne to be a legitimate one."  Everyone in the room started talking at once.  "I'm not finished yet!" Flaherty thundered.  "When I said his claim to the throne was legitimate, I meant that he is, in fact, the descendant of pre-Galactic Malek System royalty, as he claimed.  He obviously has no right to overthrow a popularly elected government, let alone fire unprovoked on Galactic forces and civilians."  He brought up a map of the blockade.  "Kervorkian doesn't have too many capital ships, and several took damage during the battle, so the blockade's coverage is too thin to make it completely effective, in theory.  Captain Marza?"

She almost didn't realize he was talking to her.  "Uh, yes?"

"Our proposition for you is this:  would you be willing to run the blockade?"

Her jaw fell open.  "You're joking," Avril said.

"I never joke about my work, ma'am."

"That's impossible."

Williams spoke up.  "If we thought it was impossible, we would've surrendered already.  As the general said, the blockade is thin.  You ought to be able to get through, especially if we divert their attention.  The idea is, we distract them, you get the word out to Sector HQ on Isis."

Avril leaned forward.  "That's in the Princeton System, correct?"

Williams nodded.  "Should be a simple matter for you.  Get through the blockade, then it's four parsecs Coreward from here, give or take a bit."

"Yeah, but those are our butts you're asking us to risk," Kalavic said.  "What's in it for us?"

"You don't do this, you're liable not to have a butt to risk for much longer," Flaherty pointed out.  "Kervorkian might not execute the humans in this room without at least a show trial, but he won't even bother to spit in the nonhumans' faces before you're shot.  He hates nonhumans with a passion, Anz'kalarads most of all."

Kalavic picked up a pen from the table and twirled it in her fingers absently.  "If we do this, I want all charges dropped."

Flaherty nodded once.  "Naturally, any and all outstanding criminal charges and arrest warrants against you and Avril Tyar will be expunged.  You'll carry a datachip to that effect.  I'll also authorize payment in full for any medical and repair expenses, and a reward of 25 million credits."

Kalavic's twirling pen fell to the floor; her eyes widened in astonishment.  "Twenty-five million???"  That was easily more money than she was likely to see in her entire life, and Anz'kalarads lived a long time.

"I'm deadly serious, Captain," Flaherty said.  "I'll not waste your time with some hackneyed speech about freedom, civic duty, and knot-tying.  If you won't do it for the UGF, do it for your own skins.  I want a decision in less than five minutes."

Kalavic said to Avril, [What do you think?]

[He's got a point -- we're not likely to get a better offer.  And sooner or later Kervorkian will work his way out here.]

[But Malek Prime's a Galactic world.  Won't they send somebody eventually to find out why it suddenly dropped off the map?]  Even to her, the argument rang hollow.

[It doesn't matter.  Kervorkian must be stopped.  Anyhow,] he added with a cocky grin, [given we didn't get paid for that stardust run, I'd rather we came out ahead on this trip one way or another.]

She sighed.  "General Flaherty, you've got yourself a ship."

Flaherty said, "Thank you.  Our crews will help you repair the Wheel of Fortune, and we'll supply gunners for your dorsal and ventral turrets as well."

"I'd appreciate it."  She paused.  "What happens to you?  Kervorkian isn't going to let you get away with this."

"Marza, you're not worried, are you?" Jimenez said with a sardonic grin.  "I'm touched."

Kalavic shook her head.  Humans.

Flaherty rolled his eyes and glared at Jimenez, then answered, "Outpost Five was explicitly designed to be a last-ditch fallback point in the event of a catastrophe like this.  Apart from the docking bays, the caverns are too narrow for anything but infantry.  Once the fighters get back, we lock down the base and make them pay for every square centimeter they push us back.  We can even escape out the back way into the mountains if necessary.  Short version is, you don't need to worry about us, just them."