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Finale:
By Markus Thyme:
Previous episodes are in The Master’s Hand archive.
Four weeks after the escape from Calania, the old space
freighter put down on the pad at the Calanian compound. Maliki told his
passengers to wait until he had assessed the situation. He came down the exit
ramp and went immediately to Fovea’s office. Fovea was at his desk when
Maliki came in. Pervez was there along with
“Welcome back Regent Maliki,” offered Fovea.
“I was expecting to see the Prince’s yacht. Why the ancient
freighter?”
“It was what I could find Admiral. The only ship
remaining at the capital spaceport. Te royal yacht was destroyed. There have
been incidents on our home world. There is a full-scale insurrection in
process. I was lucky to escape with my life along with those I could find. I
have a few Imperial Officers and family. They are aboard the ship awaiting my
release. They wanted to get off that stinking ship, but I thought it better to
make sure of the situation first.”
“That was a reasonable precaution Regent. There is,
however, no danger. In fact, the situation has improved. We have opened
negotiations with the Humans. It has gone well.”
Fovea was too much the officer to ask the question he needed
to ask.
“What people did you bring with you?” he
queried.
“Admiral, I regret to say your mate is not among them.
I got to your home too late. I did manage to save your son, but I fear he is
deeply traumatized by what occurred.”
Fovea sat very still for a long moment.
“My mate is dead?” he asked.
“Yes sir, she is. I made sure. I am deeply sorry I was
too late Admiral.”
Fovea’s shoulders slumped.
“Well then,” he whispered, “get them off
the ship and bring my son to me. Can you assist in getting the others settled
Colonel?”
“I will,” answered Pevez.
“Then we will speak again tomorrow. Now, I will need
some time.”
“Of course,” said Maliki.
The three filed out of the office, leaving Fovea to his
grief.
The following morning Fovea summoned all of them and Ghraib
to his office again.
“Thank you for giving me time,” he said.
“My son is with the medical staff. It will take both of us some time to
recover from the shock.”
The others had the good sense to remain silent.
“Meanwhile,” continued Fovea, “we must go
on.” Please give me a full report and assessment of the situation on
Calania, Regent Maliki.”
Maliki gave his report while the others listened.
“Then, you believe it would not be wise for us to
return to Calania at this time?” inquired Fovea.
“That is my assessment, Admiral. All the information I
could get indicates the insurrection will be successful. All of Calania is
currently in the hands of the liberationists, as they call themselves. The
Emperor was beheaded on his own palace plaza. Most of the palace guards were
slain. Everyone who can be identified as part of the imperial leadership will
be marked for death. To be sure, that includes you and me, Sir.”
“I’m sure it does,” agreed Fovea.
“So we may be here for a very long time.”
“A very long time, sir.”
“Now,” said Fovea, “since we will be here
and working together, perhaps forever, I believe we might want to get a bit
less formal, at least while we are in private. I will agree to stop calling you
Regent Maliki if you will agree to stop addressing me as sir.”
“I seems a good idea,” smiled Maliki,
“with the understanding that you must be in charge of our little
community.”
“And why must that be?” demanded Fovea.
“Admiral, you are a natural leader. You are accustomed
to command. Your men expect it of you. When they understand our situation,
there is certain to be some trepidation on their part. You can handle that
because you are their commander.”
“And what of you Maliki?”
With a wry grin Maliki replied, “I used to be a
regent. With the Emperor dead, my current status is mute. However, regent is
functionally the same as a diplomat. I am used to negotiating and I will
certainly assist you in that capacity should you wish.”
“Very well,” replied Fovea. “However, you
are also very intelligent and I will need you advice and counsel at all times.
Perhaps our manifest destiny is to remain here and help these humans restore
the civilization we destroyed.”
He paused for thought.
“If the Liberationists win,” he continued,
“and it seems likely they will, it will be many years ere they can mount
a military effort of any kind. I’m sure our home world will be in
disarray for many years. They may never field a fleet of ships comparable to my
flagship and they probably don’t want to, if we believe their rhetoric.
Even if they should come with hostile intent, my ship will stand against them.
It is the most formidable ship of the line we ever had. There is nothing else
as good in the fleet. Even should they be able to launch a few ships, which I
doubt, they will be no threat without professional navel personnel. It’s
not like driving a ground car. In addition, there are no Marines anywhere who
can match my Marines, man for man. So we need not fear of problems from
Calania.”
“Perhaps not so for these humans. Should they ever
recover the power they once had, they may decide to not forgive us,” said
Maliki.
“Nor should they,” replied Fovea, “but we
can deal with that if it occurs. So far they have matched, perhaps bested, us
in honor. As to personal power, what I have achieved through discipline and
command, this Bruce has achieved through consensus. As to courage, it seems we
may have something to lean from them. They have exceeded or matched us in
courage and honor.”
“I can only agree with that,” said Maliki.
“Indeed, I think we need not fear these humans,
because they are very civilized.”
“And we
need not fear intervention from Calania, due to the presence of your ship. You
speak as thought your ship will always be available to us.”
“My flagship can remain in orbit forever. It is self
sustaining. As to food and supplies, we may have to begin learning to eat and
use what these humans eat and use. We don’t know what they have. I am
sure there is no Talonberry wine.
“What say you Ghraib, do they have anything
comparable?”
“Sir, they have something even better. They call it
Elderberry wine.”
So it came to pass, that Fovea and his community settled
around the compound near the Ruins of Raleigh. They went to confer with Bruce
the Elder of Bravard. With great candor, they explained the situation to him
and asked permission to settle the small area they had previously occupied.
Bruce was surprised.
“I had believed such a thing was not possible,”
he wondered. “Thins means my people can again walk as free men on the
earth.”
“Yes,” replied Fovea, “And it is very well
time that happened. With my home world in ruin, I may never know how you were
brought to ruin. I know it should not have happened and I pledge to you, I will
do all in my power to aid you in rebuilding your world.”
“I will accept all help you can give,” replied
Bruce. “Mayhap, in some future my world will again prosper and we may
live together in peace.”
“That is my highest wish,” said Fovea. “Let
us begin here.”
“Aye,” said Bruce, “le us begin
here.”
This is the final episode of Book One of the “Master’s Hand.” Book Two is somewhere in the unforeseen future. In the meantime, this column will be discontinued to allow me to invest more time to examine the problems currently facing the Western World. There will be more details on that effort in The Gaffer’s Variety column.
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