Earth's Last War (The Contingency War Book 4) Read online

  In order to allow time for the random selection of provosts to assemble, the tribunal had been scheduled a week after High Provost Kagan had first confronted Adra on her frigate. In that time, she had been ordered to remain at Warfare Command headquarters, effectively under arrest. She had heard no further news of the humans, nor had she the ability to monitor for incursions into the CoreNet by the rogue simulant. Kagan had ensured that her access to the CoreNet had been tightly restricted. But there had been advantages to the delay too. The first was that it had afforded Adra time to research the signal anomaly in more detail, in an attempt to determine how to better track and disable it, along with its simulant source. The second was that it had allowed her to heal and regain her strength fully. In fact, she felt stronger than he had done for years; a consequence of the forced reprieve from super luminal travel, which took its toll, mentally and physically, even on one as strong as Provost Adra. Regular exposure to the Fabric had a debilitating effect, like ocean waves gradually lapping away at and eroding a coastline, except instead of destroying rock and earth, it wore away at your soul.

  The door to the tribunal room opened and a soldier exited and began marching towards Adra. She recognized her as Kagan’s Adjutant, who had accompanied the High Provost when he boarded her War Frigate. At the time Adra had not known why the soldier had greeted her with such silent hostility, but since arriving back on the home world, she had discovered the motive. Her name was Vika and she was Adjutant Lux’s sister. Vika was lithe and moved with a confidence and fluidity that few soldiers managed to combine with such natural ease. It suggested not only competence, but ability too. This alone told Adra that she was not to be underestimated, but the fact that she served the High Provost directly was evidence enough that her mental and physical talents exceeded those of an average or even proficient soldier.

  A blood feud was the least of Adra’s concerns, though it irked her that even if she survived the tribunal, a contest with Vika would likely follow. Adra accepted that Vika was within her rights to issue a challenge over the death of her brother. Lux had died under Adra’s command, as a direct result of Adra’s unauthorized pursuit of the rogue simulant and Hunter Corvette. She had vastly exceeded her orders and authority – she did not need the tribunal to confirm that – and as a result it was the same as if Adra had murdered Lux in cold blood, without justification. But Adra did not fear this young Adjutant. If Vika was to challenge, it would merely be an added inconvenience; one she would deal with as and when it became necessary. First she had to survive High Provost Kagan’s judgment.

  Vika came to a halt a couple of meters in front of Adra. The hostility shone through in her eyes, just as it had done on the frigate, but when she spoke she conveyed the proper respect owed to an officer of Adra’s coveted rank.

  “Provost Adra, the tribunal is ready to hear your testimony,” said Vika, maintaining eye contact with Adra. “If you would please follow me, I shall escort you inside.” Vika then turned side-on to Adra, bowing slightly while extending a hand in the direction of the hearing room.

  Adra said nothing in reply and simply began to cross the long corridor towards the hearing room. She kept her pace deliberately slow so as to prolong the journey. Partly, she wanted to give Vika an opportunity to speak, but also she wanted to convey her respects regarding Lux. This was not motivated by guilt – Adra felt no such emotion – nor was it an attempt to placate Vika. Adra genuinely believed that Lux had merited such a tribute. From his beginnings as the jittery and hesitant adjutant who had frustrated Adra, Lux had gone on to prove his mettle and his worth. In the end his loyalty had been absolute. And there was nothing Adra valued more highly than loyalty.

  “You are the sister of Lux, are you not?” asked Adra, keeping her eyes forward as she paced ahead with Vika just behind and to her side.

  “I was,” came the simple response. Still Vika showed no sign of emotion.

  “His death was unfortunate,” Adra continued, “as my adjutant, he was loyal and performed his duties to my satisfaction.”

  Vika did not respond immediately, and the silence was filled only by the clack, clack, clack of their boots striking the polished stone floor of Warfare Command headquarters.

  “It pleases me to know that,” said Vika, eventually breaking the impasse just as they reached the door to the tribunal hearing room. She turned to face Adra, as a masked combat simulant opened the door and waited for them to progress inside. But Vika remained, staring into Adra’s green eyes, which were fractionally below the level of her own. “The High Provost awaits you inside,” added Vika, still with a cold detachment.

  Adra was impressed. If she had not spoken then Vika would have remained silent until they reached the tribunal room. By instigating a conversation she had given Vika the opportunity to comment, but Vika had kept a firm lid on any feelings that she may have had towards her. Feelings that had been expressed with clarity in her own piercing blue eyes, if not her voice or actions. Nevertheless, Adra still wanted to learn more about Vika’s temperament and so decided to push her a little harder.

  “He collapsed only a short time before the High Provost boarded my ship,” said Adra, mirroring Vika’s impersonal delivery. “Had he been a little stronger, he would have survived long enough for you to be reunited with him.” Then she left a deliberate pause for emphasis and added, “before his brain seized completely.”

  Vika’s eye twitched, the hatred glowing inside it burning hotter, but she did not rise to the bait. “It is interesting how quickly fortunes can change, Provost,” she said, and despite her dispassionate tone, the implied threat was clear. “I wish you good fortune in the tribunal, so that we may meet again.” Vika again turned side-on to Adra and gestured for her to progress.

  Adra again waited, willing Vika to give in to her emotions, but the adjutant would no longer meet her gaze. Still, Adra was satisfied with what she had learned, and stepped past Vika into the tribunal room. As she took up her place in the circle of the accused, Adra compared Vika to her former adjutant. Lux had been simple to read and understand, but Vika was more calculating. You did not get to serve the High Provost without possessing an understanding of the politics of Warfare Command, as well as an ability to manipulate it. She was smart enough to know her place, and smart enough to bite her tongue, but she was not smart enough to hide her motives. Adra had not pushed hard, but Vika had made her intentions clear. Should Adra make it through the tribunal with her life, Vika would then try to take it from her.

  FOUR

  Adra had in the past served on the tribunal board as one of the three Provost Judges many times before, but this was her first time in her genetically-prolonged life that she had ever experienced the setting from her current position inside the circle of the accused. The hearing was a formality since by this stage the Provost Judges had already made their determinations. This had been based on testimony that Adra had given in the preceding days, and on their own evidence-gathering. As a former judge herself, she was well aware of how the available evidence (and how it was interpreted) was heavily influenced by High Provost Kagan. The tribunal itself was arranged to deliver the verdict and, more often than not, swiftly carry out the sentence.

  Adra looked up to see High Provost Kagan sitting in the center of the three Provost Judges, with two other provosts positioned slightly lower and further back. Between them they would decide Adra’s fate, and since she did not expect mercy from Kagan, much resided on the opinions of the other two judges. Adra knew them both. Both despised her.

  The first was Provost Tor, one of the longest-serving and oldest Provosts, and also a longtime opponent of Adra’s Hunter Simulant Program. Tor had strongly argued against the use of non-lobotomized human brains inside the simulant frames, believing it would introduce an unstable element and unnecessary risk. The tribunal would give her the ideal opportunity to gloat and prove herself correct. The other was Vice Provost Duma, whom Adra had leapfrogged to attain the rank of provost, and who had ca
rried a personal grudge against her ever since. Kagan knew just as well as Adra that Duma lacked the physical and mental fortitude to be worthy of the rank, and that he would never attain it on merit. His selection to the board was therefore deeply suspicious, given that there had been other full provosts available. Adra had known the selection of board members in advance and so had done some digging only to discover that Duma was on the very short list of names to be promoted to provost during the next round of ascensions. But there were only ever twelve full provosts serving in the entirety of Warfare Command at any one time, which meant that for another to be ascended to provost, first a serving provost had to step down, or die. The obvious conclusion was that Kagan had cut a deal with Duma. A deal that would ultimately mean Adra’s demise.

  The lights dimmed inside the tribunal chamber, leaving only a few spotlights focused on the three Provost Judges, and the glowing circle of the accused, inside which Adra stood. In the ambient glow of the floor, Adra could see Adjutant Vika standing to the side. That she had not removed herself meant that she still had a part to play in the proceedings, though what part, Adra could not guess. Given how predictable Adra considered the outcome to be, Vika’s presence was intriguing and the only unknown variable.

  “Provost Adra, the board has reviewed the evidence,” Kagan began. His melodic voice was amplified and seemed to assault her from all directions. “Before I summarize our judgment, do you have anything final to add?”

  “No, High Provost Kagan, I do not,” replied Adra, her own normally resonant voice sounding feeble and insignificant compared to Kagan’s, like the bark of a small dog next to the roar of a lion.

  “Very well,” said Kagan, “then this is the board’s determination.”

  Screens turned on beneath the raised black metal podium on which the Provost Judges sat, detailing the litany of charges against Adra. She read them, recognizing each charge as being true. She had withheld information of vital importance to the empire from the Warfare Council; specifically, the nature of the signal anomaly and the existence of surviving homo sapiens from Earth. She had neglected her escort duties and given false justification. She had executed Hedalt citizens without due process. She had exceeded her special extra-judicial authority by denying surrendered racketeers a hearing. Through neglect of her duties and abuse of her position, she had allowed two high-functioning simulants to be captured by the enemy. And as a direct result of these indiscretions, she had been personally responsible for the unnecessary death of a military adjutant. Kagan had graciously noted her inventive defeat of racketeer pirates, but beyond this token gesture, the evidence was scathing.

  “Provost Adra, do you have anything to say in response to these charges?” came the booming voice of Kagan.

  “No, High Provost,” Adra replied without delay. She had seen enough tribunals to know how this one would end. Of all the charges that had been leveled against her, the preventable death of Lux was the most severe. Were it not for this charge, as a highly respected provost with a distinguished and flawless record, she would have been granted a dishonorable dismissal. This would mean incarceration for the rest of her life, or however long she managed to survive in a prison camp filled with racketeers and other criminals. But the preventable sacrifice of Lux was unforgivable. That alone merited execution.

  “Let the records show that the board of Provost Judges has rejected your submitted defense of these actions,” Kagan continued, “As the architect and chief proponent of the high-functioning Hunter Simulant Program, you had a personal stake in ensuring that their failure remained secret. You have acted in the interest of self-preservation, and not in the interest of the Hedalt Empire.” Kagan then stood, shortly followed by Provosts Tor and Duma. “Provost Adra, the punishment for these charges is execution. Do you have anything to add before the sentence is carried out?”

  “I have nothing to add, High Provost Kagan,” replied Adra, again without delay. She had already accepted her fate and knew that within a matter of minutes she would be dead, shot by a firing squad of five combat simulants. Kagan was about to speak again when from the shadows, Adjutant Vika stepped into the circle of the accused. To break the circle was to make a formal intervention, and considering that Kagan had already issued his verdict, it was clear from his furrowed brow that he had not expected it.

  Adra also had not expected it. She peered over at Vika with interest, the soft yellow under-glow from the circle casting shadows across her face, distorting her features and oddly making her appear more like her brother. For a moment, Adra half expected Vika to draw a blade and carry out the execution right there in the tribunal room, but instead she turned away from Adra’s confused frown and stared up at High Provost Kagan.

  “Apologies for the intervention, High Provost Kagan,” Vika began confidently, but respectfully, “but I wish to speak on behalf of the accused.”

  Adra’s typically unflappable composure failed her in that moment, but even more remarkable was that Kagan’s expression was more shocked than her own. She stared from Vika to Kagan and back again, trying to understand what was happening. But she simply could not comprehend why Vika of all people would speak on her behalf.

  “What is your justification?” Kagan grunted, his normally tuneful voice suddenly turning gruff and coarse.

  “My brother, Lux, is unable to speak on behalf of his commander,” continued Vika, her voice managing to fill the room even without the aid of amplification. “As his only living kin, I received his personal effects, including a journal of the events for which Provost Adra is accused.”

  “Yes, we have already reviewed those records,” Kagan replied, impatiently. “What of them?”

  “His records confirm the deep respect and admiration he felt for his commander, and a belief that her actions were just,” Vika went on. “Were he alive, I am sure he would stand at her side.”

  “But he is not alive, Adjutant Vika,” Kagan answered testily, clearly losing patience.

  “No, and so I stand here in his stead,” Vika continued, “and request the right of atonement.”

  The two other Provost Judges glanced at each other and shuffled uncomfortably, but Kagan did not flinch, nor did he take his accusing eyes off Vika. It was a look Adra had seen before, reflected back at herself in the mirror in her secured quarters after learning the names of the Provost Judges. It was the look she had worn only moments before Vika had taken to the floor. It was the look of someone who had been forced, grudgingly, to accept defeat.

  Adra, on the other hand had emerged the victor, through no action of her own. The right of atonement allowed a death sentence to be commuted, but it was only permissible in extraordinary circumstances. Vika’s attestation that Lux would have stood with Adra on the floor of the accused certainly counted as extraordinary. It did not change the improper circumstances of his death, but it turned Lux from victim to willing partner. That Adra had inspired such devotion and loyalty from a subordinate in a military culture driven by loyalty and unwavering conviction could not be simply hand-waved away, even by High Provost Kagan.

  “You have that right, Adjutant Vika,” Kagan replied, but the razor-sharp edge to his eyes had dulled and his voice intoned melodically again. Then Kagan quickly glanced at Provosts Tor and Duma, each returning a token nod that signified their acceptance, before he peered down at Adra. “Provost Adra, it seems you are to receive a last-second and highly unexpected reprieve.” His eyes flicked across to Vika as he said, ‘unexpected’. “You are hereby reduced in rank to Vice Provost, a rank that you will never again exceed. You will continue to serve the empire by escorting and protecting freighters in the outer regions. Your War Frigate shall be seized and replaced with a vessel more suited to your lower rank and status - a Destroyer-class battleship.”

  Adra felt numb as Kagan’s revised judgment was announced. The prospect of living out her days as a Vice Provost, escorting insignificant convoys in a mediocre vessel in the most insignificant regions of space appalled her.
And that Kagan had assigned her a Destroyer, a vessel little better than the centuries-old Corvette, was intended to add insult to injury. But the worst element of the new sentence was one that Kagan had not expressed explicitly. As Vice Provost, with no hope of ascension, Adra would never be permitted to pursue her studies of Hedalt ancestry on Earth. Adra maintained her composure and did not allow her anger or shame to reveal itself, but she silently cursed Vika for her intervention. A firing squad would be been the greater mercy. Whether this had been Vika’s intent or not was unknown, but she would at least live to find out, even if that meant beating the admission from her.

  “I understand, High Provost,” said Adra, with a wilted bow.

  Vika bowed also and then turned with the intention of leaving the circle of the accused, but Kagan was quick to halt her exit. “Adjutant Vika, I have not finished,” Kagan said darkly. Vika stopped, glanced up at Kagan suspiciously and then moved back into the center of the circle, alongside Adra. “Vice Provost Adra will require a new adjutant,” Kagan continued, his voice now thick and syrupy smooth. Adra immediately knew what was coming next, even though Vika’s bemused expression still betrayed her ignorance. She had not only condemned Adra to a fate worse than death – she had condemned herself, also. “In light of your honorable defense of the accused on behalf of your brother, I can think of no-one better than yourself for this duty.”

  Vika may have been gifted with physical strength and mental fortitude, but she was young and had yet to master Adra’s ice cold ability to hide her feelings. The announcement from Kagan was like a knife to her gut and her reaction was so brutal, so raw, that Adra almost felt it herself. But the youthful adjutant at least had the presence of mind to keep her mouth shut. To question Kagan in any way whatsoever would have meant her own execution. And as a mere adjutant, Vika could not expect anything as merciful as a firing squad.