Raven's Peace Page 16

  A fighting force that had struck the killing blow against the Kenmorad.

  “It is Squadron-Voice now,” Ta Callah continued. “I was honored and promoted for our victory over the Kenmorad.”

  “I received a new command, our newest and most advanced warship,” Henry told her. It wasn’t quite for the same reasons that Ta Callah had been promoted, but that wasn’t worth explaining to the alien…and definitely couldn’t be explained on the reception deck of the space station.

  “So, the UPA also recognizes the Destroyer,” Ta Callah said. “That is good.”

  The Destroyer.

  Henry didn’t even need to ask what she meant by that. Panther had killed the last Kenmorad. His hands had struck the last blow of the genocide of the Kenmiri. It would take decades for his actions to actually end their enemy, but he was the one who’d destroyed them.

  “Many here will want to meet the Destroyer,” Sho Lavah added. “There will be time later, but Squadron-Voice Ta Callah commands the station’s defenses. She wanted to meet with you before you were swept up by the diplomats, and her duties demand much of her time.”

  “All soldiers understand that,” Henry said with a small bow to the Under-Speaker. “I, too, will need to return to my ship, but I am at Ambassador Todorovich’s disposal for now.”

  “So I understand,” the Under-Speaker confirmed, her glance at Todorovich more amused than Henry was probably supposed to pick up. “We shall have to see what her schedule for you allows, Colonel.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The first party was that evening, a private gathering for the ambassadors and one invited guest apiece. The list was that restrictive, Henry knew, because there were already a lot of ambassadors on the station.

  Every faction that had fielded ships against the Kenmiri was recognized as deserving a seat at the table there. He had no idea how Todorovich and the diplomatic staff were going to be identifying who actually mattered and who had three starships and no home base.

  “Everyone here will speak Kem,” she told him as they crossed the main promenade of the area the Gathering had taken over. It was an open space, twelve decks tall, with balconies and elevators all around it.

  “I can’t see the factions sending anyone who doesn’t,” he replied. They were speaking English, though there would be enough computer translators around that it wouldn’t protect their privacy alone.

  “They have to have someone to send,” Todorovich said. “Not all of the factions are worth our time…or anyone’s, really. The first week of this mess is going to be sorting out which groups are even worth talking to.”

  Mixed in with that, Henry realized, would be the assessment of which factions the UPA would back to create those “islands of stability” the Secretary-President wanted. Resta was obviously one, and it looked like Trintar in Apophis Province would be another. He doubted they’d be lucky enough to find easily picked-out candidates in the rest of the provinces.

  “So, tonight is what, mingle and make friends?” he asked.

  “Tonight is to show you off,” she told him bluntly. “If we’d brought any of the Captains from Golden Lancelot, we’d have had rep to spend. Bringing you, though…

  “They’re going to fall over themselves to meet the man who struck the final blow.” She held up a hand before he could say anything. “I’ve got a pretty good idea of how you feel about that, Henry, but it’s another weapon in my arsenal and I’m not giving it up, understand? So, soldier on. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”

  Henry had no idea how she planned on doing that, but he knew how to soldier on.

  “Understood,” he said. “Just…keep an eye on my back, Sylvia. I’m not a diplomat and I may accidentally encourage some knives to get pointed in that direction.”

  “No one’s expecting you to be a diplomat,” she told him as they crossed the last balcony to the space their networks told them held the party. “You won’t be the only soldier here, either. I suspect that since this party is in our honor and they know I’m bringing you, most of the ambassadors will bring their escort commanders.

  “You should know at least some of them.”

  “That’s not exactly a selling point,” Henry murmured, but he shook himself and nodded firmly. “But it’s the game and I’m under your orders for this part. Let’s go scout out enemy territory, shall we?”

  The chuckle he surprised out of the Ambassador got them the rest of the way into the hall.

  The first person to greet them as they came through the door was their host on the station as well as for the party. Sho Lavah wore the same formal style of outfit she’d greeted them at the dock in, though tonight the kilt was longer and a dark green to go with black leggings and vest.

  “Welcome to the Gathering once again, Colonel, Ambassador,” she greeted them in Kem. The titles were in English, but that was normal. Kem was acquiring a lot of loan words from the various Vesheron languages, mostly ranks and titles.

  That the language of their enemy remained the only tongue they had in common wasn’t lost on Henry. He suspected it made a great metaphor for the overall problem the Gathering was going to face.

  “We are grateful to be welcomed,” Todorovich said for them both. Henry spoke fluent Kem, but the Ambassador’s smooth mastery of the language was a step above his own. “We are eager to get to work, as well.”

  “We all are,” Sho Lavah said softly. “But these affairs are a necessary beginning. They help us divide the…” She paused, probably trying to parse a Restan idiom into something Kem could handle.

  “They help us divide the grand-wielding from the grand-speaking,” she concluded.

  The wheat from the chaff was the equivalent metaphor from Henry’s own farm upbringing.

  “How many ambassadors are here tonight?” Todorovich asked.

  “One hundred and sixty-two,” Sho Lavah told her. “There are only seven on the station who were unable to attend. Few can be seen to miss a party to honor the UPA and to honor the Destroyer. Fewer still would desire to.”

  Henry was surveying the crowd. A hundred and sixty-two ambassadors and their plus-ones meant there were over three hundred people in the room, and it definitely looked like it. Over seventy percent of the people he could see were Ashall, too.

  That still left over eighty truly alien aliens in the mix, but there was one he was looking for who was missing.

  “Either we are early or the Terzan Ambassador declined to attend,” he murmured. The Terzan, after all, would be neither early nor late. They would have arrived exactly when they were asked to.

  “Takik declined to attend,” Sho Lavah confirmed. “Do not be offended, Ambassador Todorovich. They have yet to attend any social event. It is not their way.”

  “We know the Terzan, Under-Speaker,” Todorovich said. “We understand.”

  “Come, my friends. There are people here you must meet,” the Under-Speaker told them.

  Henry concealed a smile as they fell into the wake of the woman who was basically running the Gathering.

  People she felt the Terrans “must meet” were almost certainly people the Resta, at least, had decided were actually going to be worth negotiating with.

  Henry was completely unsurprised to see Sho Lavah cut through the entire crowd to guide them unerringly to a pair of Ashall men in familiar garb. Both were eerily skinny and extremely tall, with almost translucent blue-white skin. Their particular variety of Ashall only grew hair in a mane that stretched from the back of the skull to the base of the neck, and both of their manes were pitch-black.

  The taller man, reaching at least ten centimeters over two meters, wore a pitch-black robe under a corset-style chest piece. The robe had a hood, but it had clearly been embroidered to be left down rather than put up.

  The corset was worked with filigree in gold and some kind of bone or ivory, and the hood was embroidered in gold and red. Otherwise, there was no decoration on the distinctive black robe of a Londu government offi
cial.

  The shorter of the two Londu was only shorter relatively, still edging over two meters and overtopping Henry by easily fifteen centimeters. Instead of a corset, he wore a matte-black fitted chest piece over a white robe that was fitted closely around the torso and loosely around the legs.

  There was no hood on the dress uniform of an officer of the Blades of the Scion, the Londu space force. A black iron collar, its hand-hammered crudity completely intentional, hung around the officer’s neck and bore the vertical gold bands of the man’s rank.

  Three bands marked him as a Lord of Ten Thousand Miles, roughly a UPSF Commodore, and almost certainly the Captain of the battleship outside…but likely not the commander of the entire escort.

  “Ambassador Todorovich and Colonel Wong of the United Planets Alliance, it is my pleasure to introduce Ambassador Saunt and Lord of Ten Thousand Miles Kahlmor,” Sho Lavah told them, gesturing from one pair to the other. “They are, of course, of the Londu, servants of the Great Scion.”

  “It is a pleasure,” Saunt said, bending his incredible height into a deep, swooping bow. “Ambassador Todorovich and I have met, though I doubt she remembers me. I was much less tall then.”

  “I remember you, Ambassador Saunt,” Todorovich replied with a smile. “Your father was memorable enough for both of you.”

  A silent ping on Henry’s internal network popped up with a picture of a group of Londu, very clearly being led by a man who was unquestionably a close relative of Saunt. The younger Londu at the leader’s left hand—the place of honor in Londu culture—was a good seventy centimeters shorter than Saunt was now, but he could tell it was the same man.

  Eleven years ago, when we first arrived in Londu space, Todorovich’s silent message told him. Saunt’s father was the regional governor. Kelant is also the Scion’s younger brother.

  “We are honored to see that the Scion places enough value on this gathering to send his finest,” she continued, as if she’d never sent the silent message. “I look forward to working closely with you, Ambassador Saunt.”

  “It is good to be remembered,” the Ambassador replied.

  Now, of course, Henry was wondering if Saunt was here because of his ability or because of his blood. The Londu couldn’t be more than twenty-five years old.

  If the Ambassador was potentially a callow youth, his companion was most definitely not. Henry wasn’t familiar with this particular Lord of Ten Thousand Miles, but he knew what to look for on that matte-black breastplate.

  Where Henry had miniature ribbons laced together on a plaque on his chest for most of his awards, the Londu had inscriptions on the breastplate. They were only visible in perfect lighting unless you were looking for them, but Henry knew what to look for—and his network was more than up to picking the lines inscribed on the armor out in poor light.

  The Lord of Ten Thousand Miles had seen a lot of elephants in his time, and had spent enough time with Terrans along the way to know to offer his hand in a proper handshake.

  “It is an honor to meet the Destroyer,” he told Henry as they shook hands. “I led a cruiser force in support of the Golden Lancelot operations in Isis Province. It did not fall to us to strike the final blow, and I envy you that privilege.”

  “Duty,” Henry corrected the other man. “It was a duty, perhaps, but not a privilege. It is never a privilege to take lives, regardless of the need.”

  Kahlmor’s smile tightened as he clearly failed to understand Henry’s point. That was fine, though. Just because the Ashall looked human enough didn’t mean they shared anything resembling Terran culture.

  And there’d been enough Terran cultures that wouldn’t agree with a twenty-fourth-century Asian-American’s opinion on violence, after all.

  “I see,” was all he said, though. “You have a fine ship, Colonel Wong. Would it be possible for me to tour her?”

  “I will have to consult with my superiors,” Henry replied. “Raven is our most advanced warship, and even among close friends, we must keep some secrets.”

  “I understand,” Kahlmor said brightly. “Regardless of whether your superiors will permit me to tour Raven, I would be delighted to invite you aboard Rigid Candor for a tour and supper.”

  That was not an offer Henry had expected. He hadn’t looked at the Londu battleship closely, but he doubted the Great Scion had sent less than his best to the Gathering.

  Like the UPA, the Scion knew there was a component of a dick-measuring contest to the forces escorting the ambassadors…and unlike the UPA, the Scion couldn’t send one ship with the implicit message of yes, this one ship can take all of yours.

  The Blades of the Scion didn’t have gravity shields, after all.

  “I am honored by the trust and respect your offer shows,” Henry said slowly. “I gladly accept.”

  He glanced over at Todorovich and Sho Lavah. They’d continued to speak with the Londu Ambassador as he and Kahlmor had their own conversation. They looked done now, though.

  “In any case, it appears that I am being called to meet others,” he told Kahlmor.

  “We must speak again,” the Londu officer replied. “But I understand the demands upon the Destroyer tonight. Until we do speak.”

  He bowed his farewell and Henry allowed Todorovich and Sho Lavah to pull him back into the fray of ambassadors and escorts, hoping that his poker face was good enough to have concealed his confusion.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I do believe our Londu Commodore friend is hitting on you, Colonel,” Todorovich told Henry as they moved away from the conversation. Most of their meetings were quite short, barely more than an exchange of greetings. Over the course of the evening, after all, Todorovich had to meet all one hundred and sixty-two ambassadors.

  “That would make some sense,” Henry admitted, going back over the conversation in his head. “I think it’s mostly professional courtesy, but you may be right.” He shrugged. “Not that it matters. Kahlmor isn’t my type.”

  Todorovich started to say something, then swallowed her words as they approached the Trintar delegation.

  “You’re not dodging the question this time,” she hissed under her breath. “But I’m not asking it here, either!”

  He chuckled at her before dropping his mask back into place and smiling politely at the two pairs from their “most likely stabilizing faction” in Apophis Province.

  “Ambassador Todorovich and Colonel Wong of the United Planets Alliance, it is my pleasure to introduce Ambassador Koss Tamar and Strike Commander Osu Don of the Trintar Commonality,” Sho Lovah told them.

  Koss Tamar was Ashall; Henry assumed she was from Trintar though he couldn’t be sure—the planet was home to another of the galaxy’s seemingly infinite varieties of Ashall. She could have easily passed for Terran, a petite woman with neatly braided brunette hair and a button-nosed face that would have made her dangerously adorable on Earth. She wore a toga-like wrap in a deep russet orange.

  Osu Don was not Ashall. They shared the same basic upright bipedal form most tool-using species ended up with, but their species had been hexapods at one point. Their third set of limbs was a pair of impressively feathered wings that emerged from the joint in their torso where their ribcages met their spine.

  The way the wrap garment Osu Don shared with Koss Tamar wound its way easily around the wings suggested an explanation for why it was popular among the Commonality. Osu Don’s people, the Kraital, were the natives of one of Trintar’s two inhabitable planets.

  “A pleasure to meet you both,” Todorovich told them. “We have heard many things of the success of the Commonality in bringing together people in the wake of the Kenmiri withdrawal.”

  “And we have heard many things of your United Planets Alliance,” Koss Tamar told them. “Most recently, I have a report of several new ships reporting in at Trintar and volunteering to join our fleet.

  “Their leader, one Captain Attallis, said that you had liberated them from a rogue warlord and sent them our wa
y. She asked for me to pass on her regards.”

  Henry was relieved to hear that. He’d worried that his mercy had enabled continued piracy in the Apophis Province.

  “While I know the needs of the UPA are quite different, the gesture is not insignificant,” Osu Don told them, their wings wrapping around their shoulders like a cloak of white feathers. “Three escort-type ships is unlikely to ever be an insignificant part of our forces. Not until we start building heavier warships of our own.”

  “Those are details for more specific discussions, Strike Commander,” Koss Tamar pointed out. “Osu Don commands the strike wing that accompanied me here.” She smiled. “They would, of course, prefer that said wing consisted of dreadnoughts instead of our new-build corvettes.”

  “Any commander would,” Osu Don conceded. “But we have need for our heavier ships back home. This Gathering is less…immediate.”

  Henry could easily hear the words the officer had cut off. Less important. Less relevant. Less likely to achieve anything of value.

  “And yet, this Gathering will decide how all of those immediate things are dealt with in the future,” he noted to the other officer. “Less immediate, yes, but we all need to be here.”

  He gestured at the crowd around them.

  “Regardless of whether the party is to our taste or not, we all need to be here,” he repeated.

  Don laughed softly.

  “You are not wrong, Colonel Wong. But your people, at least, are not actively in combat while you eat small foods and drink small drinks and talk small talk.”

  Henry was going to have to do some research. He wasn’t aware of active combat going on in the Apophis Province. On the other hand, most people likely weren’t aware of Henry’s battle against the First Warlord’s little fleet. Minor actions didn’t raise that much attention.