Chapter 11

Gift of the Emperor, Earth Orbit
June 2, 2031

The room holding Fleet Admiral Dargon's remains was cold and dimly-lit. The remains, little more than a fire-blackened spine attached to a nakedly pink brain, floated two meters above the room's bare deck plating. General Abraxas had to squint to see the faint, shimmering border of the containment field that encased the remains in near-absolute vacuum.

As he approached the remains, the general's footsteps became heavier. The Gift of the Emperor was a massive, converted mine hauler pressed into service as a deep-sleep troop transport but lacked the mass to compensate for the gravity shunt keeping the remains floating.

"The technicians tell me you are awake, old friend."

For a long time, the only sound was the faint buzz of dust particles being obliterated as they touched the edge of the containment field. Abraxas didn't know if the admiral would respond. Badly-damaged Qiin often underwent personality shifts. Dargon had been as badly damaged as any Qiin the general had ever seen. He should have been lost. But, he had held on to the spark of his personality, never releasing its hold on his corporeal form. He was the stubbornest person the general had ever met. That gave Abraxas hope that he would pull through with some modicum of his old personality and his memories.

"You are well, General?" The voice emanated from the room's speakers, accompanied by a subsonic hum as active sensors came online, feeding an analogue of sensory data into the remains.

Abraxas held up his arms, bare to the shoulder and bright red. He cringed, "I am still healing. All of my muscles and bones have knit. I will be well soon."

"You command our forces?"

"I have resumed command. Yes."

"You command all our forces?"

Abraxas shook his head, "Your first commands fleet. We have not chosen..."

"You must take my place as Oihn," said the admiral. "Calvin would be content to sit still and continue the holding action forever. We do not have that much time."

The general agreed completely with the admiral's assessment of his first suihn and didn't bother to pretend otherwise, "You are surprisingly cogent, Admiral."

"This isn't the first time I've been reduced to this state."

Abraxas frowned. What his commanding officer said might well be true, but it wasn't the sort of thing a Qiin would choose to remember. Dargon had a long, painful recovery ahead of himself. If such a thing had happened to Abraxas, it would be the first memory he would release into the temple waters.

As if he could sense Abraxas's train of thought, Dargon went on, "I remember everything."

Very few things could startle Abraxas anymore. Now, his eyes widened, "You don't mean..."

"I remember everything I have ever done," said Dargon. "Every decision I have ever made, every act of cowardice, betrayals I have suffered and committed, every Qiin who has gone lost under my command. I remember rising from the swamp on our first day."

Abraxas shuddered. He'd heard of such a fate. On the homeworld, there were two Qiin held in stasis waiting for the day that their insanity could be cured and the weight of eons of memory could be lifted from their minds.

"In that case, you are certainly surprisingly cogent, Oihn."

A chuckle came over the room's speakers, "You always had a gift for understatement, old friend. I am barely sane. When the true agony of healing is upon me, I will be quite mad. Before that happens, you must take command of the fleet, gather all the suihn, and have me removed from command."

Abraxas wanted to argue, but he saw the wisdom of the admiral's decision. A mad commander could do untold damage. Dargon's career would be dealt a serious blow, but he might recover in time, "It will be as you say."

"Good." For a long time, Dargon didn't speak. "How are our adjutants recovering?"

"Xerxes was decapitated in the attack," said Abraxas. "I'm convinced he was pressed back into service too quickly last time. It will be a long time before he's ready to serve again. Archangel shielded me with her wings during the blast. She is up and about."

"She should not become your adjutant," said Dargon. "It would not go well. I recommend Bastet to replace Xerxes."

"I've met her a few times," said Abraxas.

"You knew her much better once. She is a masterful tactician."

"I'll take your word for that." Abraxas kept his voice neutral. There was a stigma attached to discussing a subject with someone who had chosen to forget it, but there was no time to give in to his distaste.

"I've sent for Archangel," said Dargon. "I don't know how much longer I can keep my mind together. I need to talk to you two at once. While we wait for her, please fill me in on the attack on Osiris IV."

Abraxas didn't bother to ask how Dargon had accessed the ship's computer. He should have known the admiral would have a way. "While we were incapacitated, the Akati punched in dangerously close to Osiris system and attacked our forces there in great numbers. Our best estimate is that they committed half their sector fleet to the attack."

"How did we withstand that assault? Our forces would have been outnumbered twenty to one and the chain of command in chaos. No one seems to want to say in their official reports exactly what happened. Some mention reinforcements arriving, but nothing about who sent them."

Abraxas sighed, "No one sent them, sir. We're still working out exactly what happened, but Suihn Calvin's fleet punched in behind the Akati and took out their punchships. During the ensuing fight, human soldiers took control of the Coming Dawn and cut off communication from the Akati command. By the time they were able to punch new gates, they'd lost over a hundred ships. We lost twenty, but kept the Coming Dawn. We also have nearly two hundred Akati prisoners that we have to find something to do with. It's a pretty spectacular mess."

"Ah'human Stryker was involved, I imagine."

"Yes, sir." Abraxas scowled, "He was in charge of the forces that took the Coming Dawn. Suihn Calvin believes he had something to do with the fleet punching through to Osiris instead of going back to Proxima like they were supposed to."

"You have disciplined Stryker, I imagine."

Abraxas found himself wishing the admiral were a little less cognizant than he was proving to be. It was a deeply uncomfortable question, "Not yet, sir. The human forces ... revere the man for his insubordination. Even some of our own men have spoken in his favor. I imagine the fools think he is Visan'na."

"They may," said Dargon. "More likely, they have acquired the human idea that he is a hero."

"I don't recognize that word."

"It is an old, old Primog word from their distant history." Dargon sounded thoughtful, "In this case, it means one who is insubordinate for good reasons and with good results."

"Heresy!" Abraxas was beyond shocked.

"Unquestionably so." Dargon sounded unperturbed. "It is a heresy the humans take for granted. They are not born to serve or to lead. They do not believe in the primacy of the hierarchy."

"It's no wonder they were in chaos when we arrived," said Abraxas. "It's no wonder they remain in chaos even after we brought them order. They are savages. I can't wait to return home and be rid of them."

"That will be your decision to make, old friend," said Dargon. "Until then, I urge you to use humanity's unique strengths to help you meet that goal. They are not like us. It would be a mistake to assume they are. We do not have the Akati's capacity to build war machines. Humanity is our only hope here."

Abraxas opened his mouth to argue, but the door opened and Archangel entered. After a week with her wings stuck in the fully-extended position, they had finally folded back into her skin. Such a situation would be grist for the comedy mill under less dire circumstances. Qiin who were stuck in one shape appeared more often in farce than in reality. There had been nothing funny about Archangel's condition.

She walked slowly, wearing only a light shift. There were still black spots on her feet and her legs below the knee were as red as Abraxas's arms. Her resolve never wavered, "You sent for me, Oihn."

"Abraxas is your oihn now," said Dargon. "I have ceded control to him."

Archangel glared at Abraxas as if he'd had something to do with the decision. After a moment, she gave a sharp nod of her head, "It will be as you say."

"You will not be his adjutant."

That got a sardonic smile, "Again, as you say."

Abraxas watched as the admiral explained what he'd already said to his former adjutant. Archangel listened attentively, responding just as Abraxas had responded to the horror of Dargon's permission.

The new oihn would have to find a position for Archangel. By right, she should command a large battlegroup, but Abraxas wanted her fighting on the front line. As he watched, an idea dawned on him. He suppressed a smile. It wouldn't do to tip his hand too soon.

"How far apart were the attacks on our shuttle and Osiris IV?" Dargon asked.

"Reports of the two attacks were received roughly four hours apart," said Archangel.

"That is not good," said Dargon. "Your investigation into the possibility that they have found Earth, but chosen not to attack, how does that go?"

"It's complete," said Archangel. "There are no indications the Akati have been anywhere near here—no punch residue, no ship signatures, no scouts."

"Even so, keep an eye on the possibility," said Dargon. "The coordination of the two attacks makes it seem more likely. You will do this, old friend?"

"It will be as you say," answered Abraxas. He had no intention of doing anything about the admiral's deranged theory, but he was still within the truth. It was theoretically possible that the Akati had found Earth and chosen not to attack it, just unlikely to the point of absurdity.

When Archangel strapped on the training helmet, she found herself floating in deep space, looking down on the too-familiar star patterns she'd been seeing for more than two decades.

General Abraxas acknowledged her presence with a brusque nod. He had a far-away look as if he was considering something very carefully. It was a long time before he spoke.

"You've worked as closely with the oihn over the last few years as anyone. What's your opinion of his current state?"

"His current state shouldn't be possible," Archangel answered after a moment's consideration. "There have only been two cases of total memory and neither one was able to focus on the present or form a full sentence without doubling back on himself."

"Oihn Dargon is a remarkable person," said Abraxas. "I'm not surprised that he can hold himself together better than anyone expects. I don't imagine he can hold on indefinitely, though."

"You're using his simulation." Archangel looked around the sector. "You declined numerous invitations to do so when he was in command."

"I had my reasons," said Abraxas. "You're familiar with the gesture commands it uses, I believe."

"I am."

"Lead the Akati."

Archangel reached up and pulled the system holding the fargate towards her. It came closer until she hovered over the sun. The ships holding the system were tiny pinpricks of light from here. Each had a glowing green legend over it showing its capabilities. A glance to the right brought up a list of troop depositions throughout the sector. She frowned and selected a system that didn't look right. Another gesture left her hovering over that system's sun.

There were ten times as many ships there. They were packed together so tightly that their legends overlapped. Archangel turned and scowled at Abraxas, "Are you mocking my skills, General?"

Abraxas was making gestures of his own. Although he appeared to be standing next to her, Archangel knew that what he was seeing was completely different, "I am not, Suihn. The troop levels in this simulation are consistent with information I've acquired recently."

Archangel shook her head, "This manifest shows three times more ships in the system than I've seen reports on. Why would the Akati have so many ships and keep them sitting in a system with no appreciable resources?"