The Immortal Empire – Episode 12: The Admiralty Building

"Presenting Ron MacDougall, captain of the outlaw ship Shangri-La," the butler, or butler-dressed man, announced at the door.

"Ron, thank you for meeting me in person again. I know what an inconvenience coming out here must be for you."

Ron put on his best, smuggest grin for the suit-wearing plutocrat standing at the far end of the office next to what might as well have been a throne. Ron had taken some care to dress better than he usually did, though it wasn't a competition. Probably.

"It wasn't a problem, Mr. Hoburn."

Hoburn, a large, bald man who gave the Ron impression of being younger than he looked, smiled back at him. His face alone made Ron's own scars and injuries look minute, and he speculated there was more below his collar. "You know, Ron…I hope you don't mind if I call you 'Ron'."

"Not in the least."

"Ron, you've been the most reliable contractor I've hired for this job. In fact," he began, glancing at one of the large screens behind his throne. "…I think you've had more success than the next three combined."

He's the type to call me a 'contractor'. That's informative. "Well, I'm not the bragging type. Nowadays your outlaws—or contractors—don't like to tangle with the Ctarl-Ctarl, or anywhere near Ctarl-Ctarl space. There's plenty of other money to be had after all without dealing with an army of metamorphs," he explained confidently.

"Well, you tell me you think you aren't being compensated appropriately for tangling with those animals, and I'll make sure you are," he said encouragingly. "You know, I was going to say it was just a lack of gumption, but maybe young people are too…practical...for this sort of thing."

Ron held back laughter. "It's a young man's game, in my opinion."

Hoburn seemed to ruminate about that, scratching his chin. "And as for yourself…no offense, of course."

That time he did laugh, deep, short bellows. "It's fine. I'm not young anymore. But I am the best."

"The MacDougall reputation," Hoburn said in agreement, circling his large desk. He was a large man, larger than Ron, under his well-tailored suit, but despite being muscular, his movements weren't as easy as they should've been. Ron imagined a past injury, a bad one. Hoburn paused in front of an ostentatiously large liquor cabinet next to an unattended bar, all done in mahogany and marble. "I don't suppose…?"

"No thank you, maybe some other time." Hoburn opened the glass door regardless and began surveying it.

"You're on the job, I can respect that. The others aren't as disciplined as you, Ron," he told him, apparently considering the decision meticulously. From where Ron stood, the labels on the bottles mostly looked the same. My eyesight's not what it used to be either. "Apologies, I'm getting sidetracked, you're too easy to talk to, Ron. You should know that there's going to be more salvage work when we clear out of here, moving on to the next sector of operations."

"Military risk?"

"Minimal. Our next base of operations will be at the end of the Abaoaqu Line at the border of Ban Space. Well within human space, no trouble from the Imperial Navy, but that means 'Space Forces'."

"The Abaoaqu Line? That'd have to be the Victoria System, wouldn't it? Not many naval battles in that area."

Hoburn turned to him, now holding a glass in one hand. "You know your history. One of the last battles of the First Freespace War, left behind an older ship graveyard than our last few, but relatively unmolested after the years." He poured dark-colored liquor out of a bottle into it. "Same contract rate with…say, a twenty percent bonus? Twenty-five for priority salvage?"

"That's very generous."

"I'm in a generous mood, Ron. Besides, I think a man like yourself isn't afraid of tangling with humans more than the Ctarl-Ctarl." Hoburn took a deep gulp of the glass, emptying half of it, before pouring more and turning back to him. "To more productive, lucrative work from you. And to me paying you more for it."

Ron flashed an agreeable grin, as Hoburn downed the glass. "You know, I wanted to ask what you were doing with all of this. Before long, you'll have the better part of a Ctarl-Ctarl Naval Line, won't you?"

After the glass was empty, Hoburn laughed. "Not quite. I wouldn't worry about it, Ron."

There was a slightly awkward pause. Despite the impression he might've given, Ron was genuinely grateful for the work. Unlike your typical pirate, Hoburn paid well, and unlike the great pirate lords, he was clear, consistent, and un-temperamental. Normal, in other words. "Then I won't," he said simply, putting on the assuring expression he'd used for his entire career. That was the end of it.

In the yellow-and-white headquarters of the Terran Admiralty in the city of St. Petersburg, a supposedly secret meeting of top Naval Ministry officials was being hosted by a Space Forces admiral unlucky enough to be responsible for regular briefings to top leaders on Earth. In a room overlooking the Neva River, an expensive table was adorned with the miniature blue Spaces Flags as well as those of Sovereign Earth, along with five report packets, one at each seat for each guest.

The meeting's host was eager to get started, though he had no choice but to put up with his five guests socializing and catching up. Whatever intelligence he was expected to deliver was secondary to their rekindling very old friendships.

"Whenever you're ready, sirs," he reminded them louder than he needed.

The five guests—three civilian parliamentarians, and two fleet admirals—kept chattering among themselves, laughing over old jokes and patting each on the back. When they did finish, he was finally able to begin the briefing he didn't want to give in the first place.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Now that you're no longer busy we can begin the Parliamentary Subcommittee on Special Navy Projects from Toward Stars One-Thirty to One-Sixty," the host explained while fixing his collar. "To introduce myself, I am Admiral Stanley…"

"Come on, get on with it!" one of them bellowed from the far end of the long conference table. The host twitched at the fact he'd been patient enough to allow ten minutes of schmoozing between the guests but wouldn't even get a chance to introduce himself. Unfazed, he continued.

"Over the last three decades both the Space Forces and the Terran kingdoms as a whole have contended with a steady progression of both piracy and outlaw activity throughout human space. At the same time, the four Earthling empires waged the two Freespace Wars against the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire, the first ending in an armistice and the second in a catastrophic military defeat."

"Wow, son, don't pull any punches, will you?" one of the elderly parliamentarians jeered as he elbowed his neighbor. All five burst out in a circle of laughter.

The younger admiral bristled at the latest interruption. He stood in front of the old fashion projection screen, visibly manipulating a large dial remote on a cable. After a few seconds, different images of Earthling fleets appeared one after another. "Despite those serious strategic, economic, and political…setbacks…the actual technological capabilities of the Space Forces have continued to steadily advance, though few advancements have been substantially utilized since the end of the Second Freespace War."

The host fumbled with the remote. The screen changed to a missile silo packed from floor to ceiling. "Development on nuclear-encased anti-ship torpedoes, first deployed during the defense of Liberty Bell, has continued. Our present arsenal includes weapons that can reliably kill any non-Ctarl-Ctarl dreadnought in a single direct hit."

A chuckle went through the audience.

"Arguably, our thermonuclear torpedo arsenal represents the greatest aspect of the navy's total force projection," the hosting admiral explained, schematic diagrams of different anti-ship torpedoes appearing behind him on the screen.

"Now we just need ships and bombers capable of using them," the other parliamentarian mumbled somberly.

"Actually, I was just turning on to the subject of ship design," the host admitted. "As you gentlemen are aware, the weaponization of shipboard grappler arms by the Chinese Pirate Guilds is something the naval leadership and design bureaus had avoided for many years, until the creation of first prototype intended as a testing platform."

The screen changed to a schematic view of a sleek, cylindrical light frigate appeared behind him with tall dorsal and ventral maneuvering thins. "This is the XGP-15A-I, a prototype light frigate launched back in the 'Forties. It's based on the rejected GP-14 long range patrol and security ship, a fairly capable design that was deemed prohibitively expensive in the wake of the disastrous Freespace War and the privatization of long range security duties to corporate fleets. The GP-14 was never adopted, but the design was combined with the grappler concept to produce this."

"Sounds cost effective," someone said.

"Yes, I suppose so, sir." He adjusted his glasses. "Unfortunately even that initiative ran into obstacles. The XGP-15A-I was approved for testing, but only after it was coopted for the ongoing Keyline Project headed by Nguyen Khann," he said, gesturing at the signature seal in the bottom right corner of the document. "After this, the XGP-15A-I prototype was completed and put through trials. The design was modified to better serve the purposes of the Keyline Project, resulting in the XGP-15A-II, which was quickly completed."

"Excuse me, it says here the changes between the first and second prototypes were informed by 'Third-Party Advisors to the Space Forces'." One of the civilians looked up from the report at his hands. "Who were these 'Third-Party Advisors'?"

"Your Excellency, I think…"

"Pirates. The Kei Pirate Guild specifically," the oldest of the naval officers answered, loudly and clearly. "Please continue, Admiral Sterlitz."

Sterlitz clenched his jaw momentarily before nodding. "Of course. The first prototype is still in our possession. The second prototype…well, it's a little more complicated."

The same admiral spoke again. "Again, the Kei Pirates. They took possession of it. With our approval, they paid for it after all. Something about buying out the Space Forces' share or something. Please continue."

Sterlitz nodded. "Otherwise conflicting reports do suggest that the XGP-15A-II is now in civilian ownership, under the name the Outlaw Star. At some point the Kei Pirates lost their expensive purchase, probably the consequence of internal power struggles in the late 'Fifties."

"And the Keyline Project was shelved. Nguyen Khann passed away two years ago, officially terminating the project." The official adjusted his glasses. "More money wasted."

"Well, it is what you're known for," another member of the audience jibed. Sterlitz forced a smile.

The rest of the presentation was comparatively mundane, reviewing designs for carriers that would never be built and defensive platforms that the Space Forces couldn't afford. His audience looking bored, Sterlitz tried to rush through it as quickly as possible. After its conclusion, he wasn't surprised to find most of the attending had left their reports behind in their rush to leave, then went about collecting them when someone took him by the shoulder.

"Minister Kano. What can I do for you?"

Kano, a thin, white-haired man old enough that he almost looked fragile underneath his dark suit, looked very unamused. "What the hell was that about, Sterlitz?"

"Excuse me, Your Excellency?"

That fragile hand shook his sleeve. "Don't give me that. You might've fooled those idiots, but unfortunately, my responsibilities keep me from joining their blissful ignorance. How many hundreds of millions of wong were poured into the Keyline Project? How many into the XGP ships themselves?" he snapped.

Sterlitz stared back at him. "Do you mean separately or combined?"

Kano was now trying to harm him, or at least cause him physical discomfort, through his grasp. His anger continued unabated. "We know exactly what happened to the second XGP ship. We know that it's the Outlaw Star, we know that its registered out of Sentinel III and based out of Heifong City. I came here, Admiral, because I was hoping for an explanation why the Space Forces was not retrieving hundreds of millions of wong if it knew exactly where it was!"

He didn't have answer immediately. "That's unexpectedly specific, Your Excellency."

"Don't test me, Sterlitz."

He looked around the conference room, confirming they were alone.

"And you didn't just ask during my presentation?"

"Remember what I said about those idiots, son?"

He nodded frowned simuntaneously. "First things first, Minister—everything I just said?" Kano's thin white eyebrows raised. "Forget it. All of it."

"If this is another joke, it's a very poor one, Sterlitz."

"I don't joke, Your Excellency, and furthermore, not only is that information useless—it's a liability. There's only one thing you need to know about the XGP, and that it was written off as a complete loss: the ship, the technology, the whole damn Keyline Project. All of it wasn't worth one goddamn wong."

Kano stared at Sterlitz before rolling his eyes at what he considered a tasteless joke. When Sterlitz's expression didn't change, he began to panic. "You're serious."

"What did I just say about joking, sir?"

"That…that's impossible! Just the ship alone…."

"Do you know why we had that briefing here in St. Petersburg?" Sterlitz hissed at him.

Kano shook his head. "Because we're certain that Ctarl-Ctarl intelligence has a direct pipeline to Naval Council briefings in the Capitol."

The minister's eyes almost bugged out of his head with that. "I suppose I was incorrect about the Keyline Project being completely useless—we might potentially expose the Ctarl-Ctarl's source in the Naval Council."

"That's a hell of a way to spin it positively," Kano snapped, looking back at the projection screen. "So, it's all lost then?"

"Even if the Space Forces recovered the XGP, what does that give us? A undergunned frigate with grappler arms. An expensive toy that barely qualifies as a novelty when we still possess the first prototype. And the Keyline Project files…well, you know, Your Excellency."

Kano stared at him. "Four hundred and sixty million. The institute, the researchers, the project grant, and two XGP ships. That's how much. That's including the offset that came from seizing Nguyen Khann's estate after his death, which was more than you'd think."

Sterlitz didn't bother hiding his surprise. He didn't think even the cabinet was capable of putting that precise a figure to the sum. "That's…not that bad. It's not the War Bank Bailout."

Kano snorted. "If the navy was bailed out for thirty trillion wong, everyone in this room would be dead." His voice made it clear that he wasn't joking. "Still, I was hoping the navy's prospects were more promising on that front than those of what's left of the Khann Institute."

"Unrealistic expectations, Your Excellency. I mean…I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

The minister's eyes flashed. "You know, Sterlitz, I read up on you for this meeting." The admiral looked displeased immediately. "You've had a very interesting career in the Space Forces. Not at first, no, just another flagship officer. But after you were wounded during the First Freespace War, they put you to work in intelligence. Between the wars you were part of the Space Forces infiltration unit, the Terrans in the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire."

Sterlitz's eyes flashed in annoyance. "I don't advertise that fact," he said with a stern frown.

"Don't worry, Admiral, your secret is safe with me," he announced dismissively. "We both did our jobs during the Freespace Wars, and if you're worried I'd leak one of Space Forces' few successful infiltration efforts for petty anger, don't bother. I represent the government of Earth, and that's bigger than either of us."

"Well, I'm…glad to hear that, Your Excellency."

"Maybe what you did was…misguided, but you were following orders. No one can fault you for that."

In an unlit, unfurnished office, their conversation was visualized in a single digital oscilloscope window on a large monitor, flanked on other side by portraits of the speakers: Stanley Sterlitz and George Edward Kano. Two young women listened to the conversation on open-topped helmets, one of them acting as an interpreter and translating the conversation for an older man who stood behind her, from Chinese into Ctarl-Ctarl. The other was writing down various numbers, including 460,000,000 and 30,000,000,000,000.

"Prepare a report for the Center. They'll want to hear this."

"Yes sir."

"And ask them what they know about this Stanley Sterlitz character."

Terms to Know:

Abaoaqu Line - A former trade route running to the edge of Ban Pirate territory, passing by the Sentinel system and ending in the Victoria system, named after a legendary creature from Mewar mythology. It went into disuses before the First Freespace War.

Keyline Project – The joint government-corporate-pirate initiative to search for, and eventually access, the legendary Galactic Leyline, the treasure at the center of Outlaw Star. Though its mission was ill-defined, above all it placed importance on Earthlings finding the Leyline before the Ctarl-Ctarl.

- Nguyen Khann Institute – Originally a leading cybernetic, bio-android, and bio-mechanics research body bearing the name of its founder, it was mobilized for the Keyline Project, and produced numerous materiel for the project, including bio-android serial number VSD02C, for the Pirate Guilds, better known as Melfina.

St. Petersburg Main Admiralty Building (Зда́ние Гла́вного Адмиралте́йства) – Completed in the early 19th Century for the navy of Imperial Russia, in the modern times it houses the admiralty for the combined Terran Space Forces. Even after the massive reduction of in those forces, it remained in use.

Terrans in the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire – Along with the legitimate expatriate and immigrant population of Earthlings living in the Ctarl-Ctarl Empire for decades, an unknown number of Earthlings were sent to pose as Ctarl-Ctarl citizens as deep cover sleeper agents. The secret program reached its height between the Freespace Wars.

War Bank Bailout – The informal term for the Emergency Economic Response Law (T.S. 148) and the subsequent Terran Banking Relief Plan (T.S. 149) conducted by Earthling governments in response to the collapse of the futures and loan industry almost immediately after the end of the Second Freespace War, immediately prior to the galaxy-spanning economic depression. The largest in the history of interstellar capitalism, it was paid by not just the four major empires, but even the Kei and Ban Pirate Guilds, the final total ran into more than thirty trillion of wong, but was never disclosed to the public, to considerable controversy.