They arrived at their destination: a large conference room extensively wired for multiple screens and methods of communication. There were several people in the room, including a slender man in an immaculate gray suit.
“Cornelius!” cried Madeline and ran forward to envelop the surprised major-domo in a hug.
“Miss Marx,” he replied, returning the hug awkwardly, “I’m glad that you are safe.”
“And I you, Cornelius,” she said warmly. “How did you manage to escape?”
“I owe my liberty to Mister Reynard,” he replied. “When the PDF air strike hit the main building and landing area, I must confess that I was in some shock. Commander Reinach was killed in the blast, I’m afraid. It was Mister Reynard who took command on the spot and organized an evacuation. His command abilities are exceptional; even better than what you had hoped for.”
Madeline closed her eyes for a moment and wished a silent farewell to Corbus Reinach, the erstwhile head of House security. He had been a good man and would be missed. When she opened them again, Cornelius was ushering a short, hard-eyed woman to meet her.
“Miss Marx, this is General Heba Marwan, commander of the PDF troops that have chosen to ally with the House. General Marwan, this is Madeline Marx.”
“Miss Marx,” said the woman, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. “I know you by reputation. My condolences for your losses. What Radovan Branko and his allies have done is unforgiveable. It’s treason, pure and simple.”
“Thank you, General Marwan, for your sympathy and your support,” replied Madeline, with as much grace as she could muster. “I’m sure you have suffered your losses as well. I’m sure that together, we can bring the perpetrators to justice.”
“I wish I shared your certainty,” snorted Marwan. “We’ve got a hill to climb, there’s no doubt. That prick Branko nearly got our tits in the wringer right off the bat. We’re lucky we’re not all dead. But we’re not, so it’s our turn to make that ogre suffer.”
The general smiled in a remarkably bloodthirsty manner. Madeline reflected on the fact that a person probably didn’t rise to command rank in the PDF by being particularly nice.
“If everyone could sit down,” began Aurelian over the noise of general conversation, “we can start this meeting. If I could ask for everyone’s patience; we’ve got to catch everyone up quickly before we can determine our plan of action.”
Everyone was quickly seated. Cornelius got up to address the meeting, but before he could open his mouth to speak, a PDF colonel preempted him. “Before we start, I have to know: is that who I think it is?” he demanded, thrusting a finger in Enoch’s direction.
“What a damned awkward way to ask a question,” rumbled Enoch. “I am Enoch Immanuel, the Lord Peregrinus, sometimes known to my enemies as the Pilgrim of Hate. I am here at the invitation of Madeline Marx, the chief executive officer of the Pleasure House of Tarma. Do you have any more questions, Colonel?”
The red-faced colonel opened his mouth to speak once more, but Madeline stood up and said, “Before we get completely derailed, I will say this. Yes, this is Enoch Immanuel. For reasons that we don’t need to go into, he has my absolute confidence, and I know that he will be of enormous help to us in the midst of this crisis. You don’t need to like him, and frankly, I don’t care if you do. But you will need to work with him, period.”
She sat back down, ignoring the muttering that followed her pronouncement. Cornelius cleared his throat and proceeded, “Moving on. There are certain things that we know for certain, and others at which we are guessing. We do know for certain that elements of the House executive allied themselves with a rogue faction within the Tarma PDF and have attempted a planetary takeover, which has been partially successful. We know that the individuals commanding this alliance are Rachel Gentry of the House and Radovan Branko of the PDF. Wesuspectthat one of the reasons that their takeover was only partially successful was due to the sudden and precipitate arrival of Lord Enoch Immanuel and his capital starship, theJericho.”
“WhydidImmanuel suddenly show up in system?” asked General Marwan.
Cornelius frowned at the interruption but continued. “As it happened, we were holding his daughter, Aria Gryffin, although we did not know the relationship between them at the time. Thus, there was no connection to the takeover; it was a coincidence that worked out in our favor.”
He adjusted his glasses and continued. “In the initial attack, command structures were fragmented. Miss Marx was evacuated, along with several others. Commander Corbus Reinach, head of House security, was killed. The head of the Joint Chiefs of the PDF, General Paul Robeson, was killed. The remainder of the Joint Chiefs retreated to their own command districts. Some have now allied with General Branko, some have allied with us, and some have remained neutral.”
Cornelius activated a viewscreen, which displayed the breakdown of forces. “As you can see,” he said, pointing to the screen, “Branko commands a substantial force, perhaps 40 percent of the troops on-planet. Our own forces represent approximately 30 percent. Another 30 percent have chosen no side, preferring to wait and see what events may bring.”
“Wanting to be on the winning side,” muttered General Marwan angrily.
“Precisely,” agreed Cornelius. “Our job is to convince the neutral commanders that our side will be the winning side. If we do so, the balance of numbers swings to our favor. If we fail to convince them, our situation veers close to impossible.”
There was silence as the weight of Cornelius’ words sank in. He gave a small cough. “So,” he resumed, “a significant victory, even if only a symbolic one, is vital to our interests at this point. It would begin to sway opinions in our favor and give us some much-needed momentum.”
“I have some thoughts on that,” offered Enoch. “If I may?” Although phrased as a question, it really wasn’t one, and he continued. “My troops will have followed their standard procedures after my landing party was killed, and I disappeared. The majority will have evacuated the system, along with my starship, but a force will also have been sent planetside to infiltrate local command structures and determine my whereabouts.”
“Holy Tarsus,” interjected one PDF officer. “That’s terrifying, even if it is good for our side.”
Enoch smiled thinly. “We have learned rebellion in a very hard school. Those who were not adept at it are now all dead.”
The same colonel who had objected to Enoch’s presence blustered, “It’s all well and good to boast, but I sincerely doubt that your foreign troopers have had much success infiltrating Tarmese command structures.”
Enoch turned and stared at the colonel, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Without breaking his stare, Enoch snapped, “Trooper Kursk, make yourself known.”
The officer next to the colonel, also in the uniform of a Tarmese PDF colonel, stood to attention and saluted Enoch. “Yes, Lord Peregrinus! Ready for orders, my lord.”
There was a general uproar, and several people at the meeting moved away from the standing trooper who had now revealed himself as an Onin infiltrator.
