Echoes of the Storm

Chapter 11

Norse strode into the briefing room escorted by Senior Captain Lirrani. Conversations died mid-sentence. For the first time since the invasion four days earlier, senior military and civilian advisors were gathered—ordered—to meet with the man who had appeared from nowhere to take control of Corona's forces. The man who'd been their enemy, who'd led the resistance movement.

Berg had rushed over from the MedCenter after the order came down. Just like Norse not to provide any advance notice. Any one of his team could have overseen the body scans and placed the officers' sidearms in the cabinet outside the room. Berg would've assigned an SEC regular to the duty, but Norse's order had been flagged. His attendance was required. But Lirrani? Her presence seemed off. A captain, lead duty officer in the Ops Center, at a high-powered meeting like this? Berg recalled how pissed she'd been finding out her subordinate Ford was a traitor. Norse enjoyed putting people in place, especially with a crowd watching. Watch out, Captain.

Norse took the center seat at the long table. He almost looked pleasant, and definitely relaxed, like he'd invited them to a Corona Day feast. The only thing lacking was the offerings of traditional roasted land, sea, and air animal flesh, and spirits from the Ria Valley.

Norse cleared his throat. "I imagine you have many questions. I'll tell you what I can, but there will be some answers you may not have the right to know. Not yet."

Tension hung over the room like a funeral pall.

"You are here because Grand Emperor Surda has faith in you," Norse said. "I trust you."

As long as you aren't wearing a blaster when we meet. Berg smiled to himself. Watching the officers' nervous glances was entertaining. Skepticism seized their normally severe faces. Berg had worked with many of them for years, but that was before Norse appeared on the scene. They were a cold and sometimes vicious group hardened by years of civil wars, yet each one seemed tame compared to Norse.

All but Morgan Lirrani. The senior captain was as smug as Norse. Would that last when others learned Atticus Ford was a rebel working directly for her?

Norse zeroed in on each face in the room. "I am in charge. Question me, and you question the Grand Emperor."

From the look in their eyes, Berg doubted there would be objections. The day of the Riga invasion, everyone in the room had received an encrypted message, making it clear Norse's authority came from the emperor himself.

"My defection to the resistance was carefully planned, my role pivotal."

A few brows rose.

Berg suppressed another smile.

"The resistance could have been a dangerous threat," Norse continued, his voice low. "They attacked supply convoys, destroyed weapons caches, sabotaged our bases, disrupted communications. Yes," he affirmed, "on my orders. But those victories were insignificant."

"Insignificant?" one of the senior officers interrupted. He wore a deep scowl. "You allowed them to attack us knowing we—"

Norse's black stare cut him short. "Their successful missions, if you view them in that manner, lured the Riga here. It gave Corona the opportunity to strike a major blow—to wipe out the resistance, arrest their leaders, and deliver a crushing defeat to the Riga. We captured a quarter of their ground forces, destroyed ships, and disabled a warship."

Another officer spoke up. "Why not avoid all the attacks and arrest the players immediately? What has this gained for Corona?"

"More security for the League, General," Norse replied. "A signal to other worlds where traitors exist that the League will prevail."

The chief of weapons operations didn't seem convinced. "One warship captured. Several thousand enemy soldiers held captive. What about the other three-quarters? That is no small number," the CWO said. "And the resistance here is but one tiny group opposing Corona."

Norse smiled, but his voice grew darker and was laced with disdain. "Corona's enemies comprise numerous tiny groups. Together they are links in a larger chain, one that could strangle us. It is vital those links be broken. If they aren't, then everything we know—our way of life—will be destroyed."

There was a long drawn-out silence until Torredo's chief magistrate spoke up from the far end of the table. "Where is FE Gamble?"

Norse replied without hesitation. "The FE is under arrest."

"On what charges?" the magistrate demanded as murmurs swept the room.

"Conspiracy and treason."

That was news to Berg. He'd had the impression the FE was loyal-to-the-bone Corona. He was liked and respected, a fair-minded man. From the shocked faces in the room, he wasn't the only one with those thoughts.

"Rabi Gamble is no traitor!" the CWO shot back. Other voices joined his in protest, growing in intensity like an approaching storm.

"What proof do you have?" the head of interplanetary trade asked.

Norse's eyes narrowed. "I was one of them!"

The CWO paled. "You worked with the FE?"

"His nephew and I worked together closely."

Berg watched jaws drop. Jack Gamble was high profile on Torredo, almost as visible as his uncle. A symbol of the best of Corona. Or at least that's what everyone assumed.

"Jack Gamble escaped with Riga forces," Norse said. "Corona must never have to deal with Gamble influence—or interference—again."

Norse didn't give anyone the chance to speak. "Our security teams are rooting out resistance leadership," he continued, "including one undercover operative who worked inside this HQ. Lieutenant Atticus Ford."

There it was, Berg thought. Norse's upper cut after a one-two punch. Every person in the room turned to Lirrani.

"Ford?" three voices rang out in chorus.

"Your second, Senior Captain?"

"He worked for the resistance?"

Lirrani's jaw muscles twitched only a moment, but she stood her ground. "There is nothing, not one shred of evidence indicating Ford copied sensitive files, downloaded classified materials, or communicated with the resistance." She tapped her digipad, syncing the display to monitors in the room, and highlighting reports of Ford's activities. Her voice was powerful, her delivery unhurried. She was a picture of eloquence under pressure. "If High Ambassador Norse had not worked undercover with the lieutenant and knew this for a fact, I would swear to you—on the soul of our Grand Emperor—that Ford was innocent."

"You are correct, Senior Captain," Norse said. "But Atticus Ford was one of the enemy's best operatives and, evidence notwithstanding, he did route classified information to me. Lucky for all of us, I was on your side."

The weapons op chief shook his head. "But the FE—"

"Rabi Gamble is my responsibility. He'll play an important part in bringing Riga to its knees." Norse scanned the puzzled faces of his comrades. "You have all performed well in this struggle, but we must not let our guard down. The Riga will return to Torredo. We must be even better prepared to defend ourselves."