Hegemony at dalou, p.14
Hegemony at Dalou, page 14
“So, already a revolution?” Osamu asked.
“Kosnett threatens one, Sire,” Shingo replied. “He broke the pirates. And Meerut. Such was his vast authority that the Shogun had no choice but to allow the man to bring outsiders to Ellariel in order to reward Morninghawk. Do you supposed the Minister of Protocol resigned, when the Shogun overrode the man’s objections?”
“You never knew Hida Taro socially,” Osamu laughed.
“Father?”
“My own father would have described the man as roughly as dumb as a bag of hammers, Shingo,” Osamu continued. “Political and loyal, but not able to make great leaps of intuition. If anything, the Shogun probably got tired of the fool and did something to set him up. Maneuver the man off the board in disgrace without offending the rest of the Taro clan. Our opponent is a dangerous, cunning man, Shingo. Do not ever forget that.”
“I see,” his son nodded. “And the mistakes you expect to make tonight?”
“It was entirely possible that the Shogun would have ordered someone to open fire on my shuttle during our flight,” Osamu replied. “Had you not been aboard, the odds go up. Except that he would have had to handle a much greater problem had he killed both of us.”
For a tough, stubborn young man, it was still good to watch his son pale a little at the implications. This was an entirely different arena. Points scored here were sometimes measured in lives, rather than embarrassment.
“Now, we are here without my Premier, nor with the Minister of Protocol, both of whom should be supervising things,” Osamu continued. “That means that we will be operating without a net of any kind, if we place a foot wrong. All of us.”
“Are we doomed?” Shingo asked.
“If we did not have Morninghawk, I suspect that we might be,” Osamu replied. “Even I wasn’t sure what sort of reception awaited us. It would not be a stretch to say that he alone saved us from my irrational belligerence in coming here as we did.”
“The old woman called him Lord Morninghawk,” Shingo noted. “And you agreed. What will that mean? What will that do to all our calculations?”
Osamu shrugged. Then he considered it.
The man was not married. Had never been, nor had any of the other houses expressed any great interest in the fourth son of Omarov. At least until he became a major player overnight.
Who would be lining up to find a daughter or a friendly widow for the man?
Dare Osamu dangle one of his own daughters in front of the man? Sota was seventeen. Moriko fifteen. As political alliances went, the age gap was great but not impossible. That would draw Omarov and likely Sugawara closer to the throne. Both had been loyal for centuries. They had even suffered with the Imperial house when the Shogunate came into being.
Should Osamu demand that Sugawara be elevated to Great House status? Or that Omarov become a house on its own?
Or would that bring down the entire Hegemony? Were those the actions guaranteed to unravel the Shogunate, at a moment when alien barbarians threatened the entire Cluster?
Osamu needed to measure this First Centurion. And the Shogun.
What games were being played out around him?
THIRTY-THREE
ABOARD ELLARIEL-JO, ELLARIEL SYSTEM
Lingyi Omarov considered the image that his eldest son presented as they stood in his chambers wearing their best robes. Like Makara, Darra bore a strong resemblance to his father. Makara was the tallest of the four. Lingyi had the excuse of seventy-eight years bowing his shoulders to have lost height from his glory days fifty years ago. Darra did the family and the clan glory, commanding Wraithruin, just as Pich did with Kestrel and Soth aboard Wraithhawk.
Darra was watching him now. They both wore Sugawara black laced with forest green. It would stand out, as there were only a few houses that still wore colors so close to the Emperor, and only he and Darra had been allowed to travel here, along with Lord Sugawara himself and a few retainers.
This was the Shogun’s Court. Lingyi had never met the man, but his father had been a powerful and decisive leader in his time. As has the grandfather.
They had a few minutes alone before someone would come to round them up.
“Have you considered all the marriage contract proposals one might expect when this is all done?” Darra asked with a grin.
The eldest son of a hero had been married off well, and had his own family now.
“Makara has made it clear time and again that he would rather command Morninghawk than engage in politics,” Lingyi replied.
Darra held out his hands to indicate their surroundings.
“Does this look like he will have a choice?” the man asked.
Lingyi smiled.
“He will always have a choice,” Lingyi said with solemnity. “Meerut guaranteed that. Ellariel is just to reinforce it to the rest of the Cluster.”
“What haven’t you told me, Father?” Darra asked. “If you keeled over tomorrow, what should I be prepared for, as the new head of the family?”
Lingyi grinned fiercely now. Darra only talked that way when he wanted to be a pain in the ass.
“Makara is the fourth son, Darra,” he replied. “No other clan wanted to deal with the unluck. Doubly so when he wasn’t going to be a famous warship commander, like his brother.”
“That’s changed,” Darra scoffed.
“Indeed it has,” Lingyi agreed. “However, if I were to press my other son for an answer, I am certain what he would eventually admit to.”
“Oh?”
“The Imperial Inspector who accompanied him on his mission,” Lingyi said.
“Sobol?” Darra was aghast.
Lingyi was not surprised at his eldest. Darra was a strong personality. Growing up as the eldest, he was never going to be matched on love. Only on alliance. That he had managed a good marriage afterwards was luck and hard work.
“The same,” Lingyi said. “I took Makara aside and asked him that question at Ishiokoh. He did not deny it.”
“Would that mean a direct tie to the Shogunate?” Darra asked.
Lingyi could see the calculations begin. As he expected. If he keeled over tomorrow, Darra would have opinions.
Makara might even listen to them patiently. As long as Darra didn’t push too hard. Then he might discover that his three brothers could be just as stubborn.
“That is a conversation for later, Darra,” Lingyi said, sobering. “The Emperor is disrupting things. The Shogun has reacted with greater disruptions. All is going to be in turmoil today.”
“What do you know, Father?” Darra asked.
“I have my spies, just as Sugawara and others do,” he grinned again. “We will remain calm in the face of all challenges, just as Morninghawk is now famous for, and I expect we will emerge on the morrow without trouble. Let the Great Houses experience great pains, as the saying goes. Sugawara is a minor house, and Omarov a minor family, for all that we command three of Sugawara’s cruisers. Let Morninghawk set your example.”
“Calmness in the face of death?” Darra asked sardonically
“If the fear of death cannot touch you, Darra Omarov, then nobody else can, either,” Lingyi said. “Let that be my lesson to you today.”
Darra nodded and fell silent. Makara had expected his death. Had gone into it at Meerut head up and stubborn.
His own father could do no less.
Even if the Emperor and the Shogun were apparently intent on starting a war with each other that might spill over and involve Kosnett and the outsiders before it was over.
THIRTY-FOUR
SHOGUNATE ORBITAL STATION
Kaur followed Phil and Heather, surrounded by the others. The Yaumgan cruiser had brought Trinidad Mildon and his wife, but they were special cases in Phil’s diplomacy. Kaur was alone, as were the other two captains, Khan and Solo.
Still, she had made it a point to walk close by Babatunde, Phil’s lead Ambassador, so Kaur had a nice view. Lady Kugosu herself, the daughter of the Shogun, was escorting them through elegant corridors to the central portion of the station. The hallways had been cleared ahead of time, so she only saw occasional people in the distance, hanging back as if she might bite.
She supposed that from their perspective, Phil might be seen as a terrible danger. He had defeated the pirates twice, at Vilahana and Meerut. Had brought an enemy squadron to the beating heart of the Dalou Hegemony. And now the Emperor of Dalou had emerged from the slumbers of his palace below to become involved.
She had explained to Phil and Heather what that meant, but neither Cruiser-Captain Khan nor Striker Solo seemed to grasp how revolutionary such a thing was.
Nor how dangerous. She did not like relying on the patient benevolence of others to survive.
Thus, she was both surprised and relieved when they followed the young aristocratic woman through a short side hallway and emerged into a ballroom. Enormous. Perfectly flat floors with checkerboard in the crimson and gold of the Kugosu. Enormously vaulted ceilings overhead that seemed to vanish into the murk and lighting fixtures.
There was a mob awaiting them, rather than mathematically precise lines and clusters. Had you asked Kaur what to expect from the Shogun, this would have not been it. Nor anywhere even remotely close.
Every color of the rainbow was evident around her. Outfits seemed to take one of two styles. Men frequently wore baggy pants tucked into leather boots, with a tunic or half-length kimono wrap held with a belt. Otherwise, they would be in full kimono-style robes that didn’t quite reach the floor. Women were in such robes, with exceptions such as Lady Kugosu or Inspector Sobol.
To Kaur, it suddenly reminded her of her original impressions of Dalou, where the men held all control, and women had to mirror them in order to be accepted. Almost the exact opposite of the Consensus.
Lady Kugosu led them to a large cluster to the left as they entered. Kaur didn’t recognize anybody in the group. And then she did, but only because the outfit the older of the two men was wearing bore the Imperial Sunflower design, worked elegantly into the fabric. Green and white.
She had never even seen pictures of the Emperor. He was generally a nobody, outside Dalou, as the Shogun controlled everything.
Or had, until yesterday.
Kugosu came to stand close to the two men, father and son from the similarities of their features, then turned sideways.
“Your Divine Majesty, it is my pleasure to present to you First Centurion Philip S. Kosnett, Ambassador and Governor from the Republic of Aquitaine, on a voyage of exploration that has brought him to our shores,” she said, bowing deeply.
Phil started that direction as well, so Kaur matched him and his officers. Solo and Khan took a moment to catch up, but neither of them were prepared for this situation. Plus, they had to try to look tough.
Xochitl Dar made them look like pikers anyway.
Nobody could see Kaur’s grin while she was looking at the floor, though. Her face was neutral by the time she rose again.
“First Centurion,” the Emperor spoke. He had a thin voice. Maybe on the verge of reedy, in that odd range at the bottom of tenor or the top of baritone. “I have heard much about your mission and your squadron. It pleases me that we are finally able to meet in person. My son, Crown Prince Shingo.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Phil was saying now. “I look forward to establishing bonds of friendship with the entirety of the Hegemony, that we can all learn valuable and useful lessons from one another. My Command Flag Centurion, Harinder Abbatelli. Heather Lau, Command Centurion in charge of my flagship Urumchi. Fleet Ambassador Aliza Babatunde, my personal advisor on all things diplomatic. And my guests that were able to join us as we recognized the incredible bravery in battle of your Captain Omarov: Captain Kaur Singh of the Aditi Consensus; Cruiser-Captain Adham Khan of the Gloran Empire; Striker Gotzon Solo of the Ewin Principalities; Captain Xue Dao Zhiou of the Yaumgan Domain; my Chief Medical Officer Au Aqal Corven Sam, formerly of the Holding of Man; and her husband, Trinidad Mildon, who once served as my own Dragoon.”
Kaur bowed again, though not as low. Aditi had some level of friendly relations with Dalou, but again, no other serving Consensus captain had ever walked these halls. Only diplomats. Would Dalou allow her to return for a port call when she commanded a Ship of the Line? She hoped so.
Dalou did not shake hands, nor touch, so the two groups remained at a discreet distance from one another, smiling politely.
“If Your Majesty will forgive me, I would be grateful if I could introduce the Shogun’s guests of honor to others,” Lady Kugosu continued, when the silence had stretched just far enough.
“Indeed,” the Emperor nodded regally. “We shall speak more on other topics.”
Again, a quick bow.
How often was an emperor just an honored guest in the middle of his own Empire? But this was Dalou, and that discussion had been settled centuries ago. They withdrew. The next group of people included Lord Sugawara, and the members of Omarov’s family that had been allowed to attend. Not much had changed since Ishiokoh, so things went quickly and smoothly.
Everyone seemed to be on their best behavior, which was good. Dalou leaders had a reputation for brittleness that caused issues at time, more wound up in their honor than in the ethics of a situation when the two diverged.
At the same time, Kaur noted that the Ministers she was introduced to all seemed to be a little off-center. As though uncertain if the Shogun was going to fire them next. She had not yet gotten any hint of a rumor as to why the Minister of Protocol wasn’t here, but it must be good.
Especially when the Shogun had apparently replaced the man with his own fourteen-year-old daughter. Who was doing an excellent job. It helped that Phil and the others were working hard to support her.
Did they think that she might ascend to become Shogun, someday? Kaur had never heard anything remotely like it.
But then, no Consensus captain had ever been invited to Ellariel-jo, either. And no Emperor of Dalou had ever met with barbarians from across the vast darkness.
Kaur had a jolt pass through her as they moved off to one corner now, to become their own island that allowed others to circulate. The Aditi Consensus was the single most egalitarian place she’d ever known. Only Aquitaine and Yaumgan, both relative newcomers to this modern stage, had the same mix of genders in senior positions. Almost everyone in here was male, excepting only the two women that had met them at the shuttle bay and a few others who had the look of senior bureaucrats rather than wives or mistresses. There were none of those, interestingly, even though rumors always swirled.
In that, Dalou wasn’t that much different than Aditi.
Servers began to move through the crowd now, bearing trays with either small plates or drinks. Phil turned to one of his security people and got the requisite orange juice that he drank when off-ship. The others did the same, having been warned ahead of time.
Kaur had a flask she could get into, but felt like being bold and adventurous today. And not spending all her time merely hiding in Phil’s shadow like Solo and Khan. She flagged down a waiter and received a glass of red wine that she intended to stretch for a considerable time.
Around her, the groups began to dissolve slowly, like sugar cubes dropped into cold water. Perhaps she had triggered something?
She found herself standing close to Inspector Sobol. Kaur noted that the woman seemed to have the entire range of human emotion visible in her eyes when she glanced this way. Fear, triumph, exhaustion, calculation. Everything.
“We appear to be successful so far,” Kaur murmured as she came to rest next to the woman, companionably looking out over the crowd as Phil’s other guests began to migrate.
Sobol glanced at her sidelong for an extended moment.
“What does Aditi think of all this?” Sobol asked.
“The Consensus is thrilled that Phil was able to arrange such a thing,” Kaur replied. “But for Morninghawk, Wulfa might have destroyed Urumchi. What would that have done to the Cluster?”
Silence. Not unexpected. Sobol was a diplomat, rather than a naval officer, so she would see things through that lens.
“Perhaps delayed the revolution for an entire generation,” Sobol replied quietly.
Kaur felt an irresistible force drag her around to stare at the woman in surprise.
“Revolution, Inspector?” she asked, keeping her voice down to a whisper that would not carry.
Sobol gestured with the hand also holding a full wine glass.
“Outsiders,” she said carefully. “Neighbors. Enemies. Even the Emperor himself. Lady Kugosu might end up being the Minister of Protocol formally tomorrow.”
“And how does the Hegemony feel about that?” Kaur volleyed the question back. “Is this revolution good or bad? Or should it wait a generation?”
“That djinni has already awoken, Captain,” Sobol said. “Morninghawk believes that the Hegemony must move today, if it is to keep up with the Consensus, even as Gloran and Ewin fall further and further behind.”
“And Yaumgan?” Kaur asked. Whatever she had been expecting, this wasn’t it. And she had a responsibility to gather information. Possibly intelligence. Her superiors on Aditi would spend weeks debriefing her when she finally got home.
Sobol shrugged, which was even more impressive.
“Who knows what they might desire?” she asked. “We share no common border with them, so they hardly impinge upon the Hegemony’s thinking.”
“Unlike the other three,” Kaur nodded.
“Unlike the other three,” Sobol agreed.
“So you see a generation of struggle between Dalou and Aditi?” Kaur dared ask.
The woman was an Inspector. Not that far below the ministers around the room in rank. And female, which meant that she had to be exceptional at her job.
