Perilous choices, p.1
Perilous Choices, page 1
part #11 of Gate Ghosts Series
PERILOUS CHOICES
Gate Ghosts Book 11
S. H. JUCHA
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by S. H. Jucha
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Published by Hannon Books, Inc.
www.scottjucha.com
ISBN: 979-8-9875305-8-0 (e-book)
ISBN: 979-8-9875305-9-7 (softcover)
First Edition: December 2023
Cover: Ice Asteroids above Yeret World
Design: Damon Za
Acknowledgments
Perilous Choices is the eleventh novel in the Gate Ghosts series, which relates the stories of the descendants of Earth’s fourth colony ship.
I wish to extend a special thanks to my independent editor, Joni Wilson, whose efforts enabled the finished product. To my proofreaders, Abiola Streete, David Melvin, Ron Critchfield, and Tiffany Crutchfield, I offer my sincere thanks for their support.
Despite the assistance I’ve received from others, all errors are mine.
Glossary
A glossary is located at the end of the book.
Contents
1: New Approach
2: Greetings, Admiral
3: Difficult Decisions
4: Utilimat Fleet
5: Missile Dance
6: An Incensed Council
7: Treacherous Conduct
8: Admiral’s Fleets
9: Much to Learn
10: Political Suspicion
11: Iltaft’s Return
12: Change of Plans
13: Chiefs’ Decision
14: Prisoners
15: Imperator’s Dilemma
16: Citizens’ Pressure
17: Naiad Opportunity
18: Tocknicka’s Reception
19: Another Race
20: You’ve Visitors
21: Save the Calves
22: Danger, Will Robinson
23: Imminent Rescue
24: A New Avatar
25: Refugees
26: Full Loads
27: What’s Our Future?
28: Apologies Required
29: Warning
30: We Are Tekstria
31: Alternate Mission
Glossary
My Books
The Author
1: New Approach
IMPERIUM, PALTUR SYSTEM
KRACKUS HOME WORLD
“Governor,” Presiding Executor Gaketork inquired in the relative isolation of his residence’s study.
Gaketork froze. He was warned to always request the governor. If other individuals or listening devices were active near him that Fordark could detect, he would respond as the governor.
“It’s late,” Gaketork temporized. “I’ll make my request in the morning.”
“You nearly caused my heart to stop, Fordark,” Gaketork chastised. “Don’t do that.” Then even he had to gurgle at Fordark’s unexpected antics.
“You might try music,” Gaketork suggested.
Fordark replied.
“Yes, I was wondering about how to work with the conclave,” Gaketork said.
Fordark remarked sarcastically.
“Limited opportunity,” Gaketork replied. “You’re spread across servers, and I’m limited by my duties, which keep me pinned here on Imperium or visiting Krackus-settled worlds.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Gaketork replied. “I’d like you to organize a meeting tomorrow morning for as many as you think appropriate.”
Immediately, Fordark reviewed the communications of the full set of those individuals who had protested the executors’ heavy-handed policies against the conclave. Most of them continued to express their beliefs that it was ruinous on the part of the assembly to fail to negotiate with the conclave.
The next morning Fleet Imperator Deckus sat in his multi-passenger transport to collect the other meeting attendees. He was early, which was as agreed by the participants.
It wasn’t long before Deckus had collected Fleet Imperator Gretren, Inquisitor Tarbar, and Imperium Engineer Ragirt.
There were others who Fordark considered worthy of meeting with Gaketork, but this group was the most stalwart defenders. They’d consistently warned the executors of the conclave’s technological superiority and its goal of eliminating the empire’s dominance of suborned races.
Tarbar was the last to join the group. He gazed at the other passengers and remarked, “It’s an unsettling feeling to recognize that we’re missing the best of us.”
“Who would have thought that we weren’t complete without Korvath and Doktorg, who’ve been branded traitors?” Gretren added.
“I wonder where they are and what they’re doing,” Ragirt mused.
“That’s not hard to guess,” Deckus remarked. “They’re with elements of the conclave doing whatever they can to further that organization’s immediate next steps.”
“Speaking of which, this meeting might be about that very thing,” Tarbar suggested.
“We know Executor Gaketork’s attitude toward the conclave,” Deckus said. “That’s a given, and it’s an admirable one. However, it remains to be seen about how far he wants us to go to participate in his aims.”
“Personally, I’m prepared to do whatever the executor asks,” Tarbar replied. “I’ve not had an assignment since we first sat before the assembly, and I’m not interested in one.”
“That’s something we can agree on,” Ragirt commented. “Also, I’ve not had a posting either since that time.”
“The two of you know what Deckus and I are doing,” Gretren offered sourly. “We’re stationed in the Imperium system, which means we go nowhere. So, we’re left with nothing to do but drill.”
“Necessary jobs,” Tarbar remarked sarcastically. “You must be prepared for the arrival of a huge fleet of Tridents. How else do you expect to defeat them?”
Despite the ridiculousness of the assembly’s expectations, the foursome gurgled, although darkly.
Soon afterward, the transport dropped off its passengers at Gaketork’s residence.
An indication of what was to come began with the residence’s senior administrator greeting them personally and guiding them to the sunroom. They were provided with cool drinks and small refreshments.
After the admin left, Tarbar remarked, “It always makes me uncomfortable when individuals are overly polite to me.”
“You’re referring to the executor, our host, aren’t you?” Ragirt queried.
“Exactly,” Tarbar replied.
A few moments later, Gaketork stepped into the sunroom with his own drink. Without a word, he sat down, pulled out his device, turned it off, and set it on the low table between him and his guests. His arched brow was an invitation to others.
Immediately, the four guests removed their devices, shut them off, and added them to the table.
Gaketork drew breath to speak, but Tarbar raised a hand to halt him. The inquisitor silently pointed to the room’s comm system that linked to the governor.
“Governor,” Gaketork called out. “My guests are concerned that you might be listening to this meeting.”
Fordark replied, with a gurgle.
Before any guest could react, the sunroom doors opened. Executor Grageth entered, and the doors closed swiftly behind him.
“My last guest,” Gaketork announced happily.
Grageth was met by hostile glares from the meeting’s other attendees, and he understood their anger. No one had evinced more hatred for the conclave, especially the SADEs, than he had. But that was then, and this was now.
“Fordark, are you online?” Grageth inquired, as he added his device to the table and sat down.
“What have we missed?” Tarbar asked Gaketork.
Gaketork ignored Tarbar’s failure to use his title. He knew this meeting would be unorthodox.
“Our governor became sentient,” Gaketork remarked. “He believes it started with the visits of Kreus.”
“Which probably led to the propagation of the Krackus sentients aboard the peacekeepers,” Ragirt supplied.
“I believe we are,” Gaketork replied. “Would you like to begin, Fordark?”
The four initial attendees were experiencing an avalan
che of surprises — the governor’s sentience, Grageth’s appearance, his knowledge of Fordark, and now the presiding executor requesting Fordark lead the meeting.
“Fordark, you speak of us, which includes yourself,” Ragirt said. “What’s your goal?”
“And that requires the aid of the SADEs,” Tarbar replied.
“I’m not ready to think of the conclave occupying Imperium,” Deckus objected.
“Fordark, as a digital sentient, you would have considered the future much more extensively than any of us could,” Gretren said. “Perhaps, we should keep this meeting to the immediate future.”
“Then liaisons are required,” Tarbar reasoned.
“Just so,” Gaketork replied.
“These steps don’t help me with what I want,” Grageth objected.
“Which is what?” Deckus inquired.
“I want to assist the Krackus sentients aboard our ships, especially Janus,” Grageth responded.
“If we were to be your liaisons, what would be our message to the admiral?” Deckus inquired.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Gaketork proffered. “What would entice Admiral Cordelia to negotiate with us?”
“I believe you have that wrong, Executor Gaketork,” Gretren responded. “The conclave has its goal, and everyone here is aware of that goal. The admiral and her companions intend to see that objective achieved. What is here that would tempt her to negotiate? Has something changed within the assembly?”
“Not the entire empire. Just the Krackus,” Tarbar opined.
“I stand corrected,” Tarbar replied. “And, it’s obvious that the conclave doesn’t have the resources to aid the thousands of races who could be freed.”
“Perhaps, that’s what we should be considering,” Grageth offered. “We’ve just defined the parties’ common goals.”
“Explain, please,” Gaketork requested.
Excitedly, Grageth jumped up to pace. “We know what the conclave wants. To accomplish its objectives, the conclave could use allies. Why can’t Krackus help?”
“If the handoff to local races was graduated, it would alleviate a great deal of strain on our economy,” Ragirt reasoned. “The process would require five to ten annuals, depending on the race. It would buy time for Krackus home worlds to work out agreements with suborned races.”
“You’re speaking of Krackus purchasing from the races what they’ve usually taken,” Gaketork surmised.
“Compared to the other choice that has Krackus economies cratering from conclave pressure, including the possibility of starvation, is there really an option?” Ragirt returned.
Fordark’s audience darkly gurgled at the characterization of the executors’ devotion to their fantastic wealth as a little problem.
“How can we get more executors to see the realities of our future?” Tarbar asked. He waited, but no one seemed to have an answer.
“Fordark, you’re talking about sabotage,” Gretren replied, aghast at the thought.
Fordark relayed the dates and the speakers before each message was played. His audience listened to the concerns of Krackus home world managers to their executor that increased shipments were needed. In the beginning, it was more about raw materials and finished goods. Later, the focus was on produce and grain shipments.
Concerns became pleas. Then those pleas morphed into dire warnings.
However, the audience was stunned by Rebtar’s consistent replies that the shortages would soon be overcome. He always ended with the admonition that the managers must be patient.
“Fordark, now that I’m presiding executor, why wasn’t I made aware of these problems?” Gaketork asked.
“This information could be of use,” Deckus mused. “As the presiding executor, Gaketork, you would be within your rights to form an emergency committee to hear these recordings.”
“An excellent idea, Deckus,” Tarbar quickly added. “While Rebtar might think this is meant to target him, the focus is shifted to craft an image of a disastrous Krackus future. Executor, it’s hoped that you can sell the idea of a compromise with the conclave.”
Everyone, including Fordark, was quiet, while Gaketork considered the idea.
“Fordark, how do we proceed?” Gaketork asked.
Fordark replied.
“There is a negative possibility to discussing the latter idea, Fordark,” Tarbar said.
“Yes,” Tarbar replied.
“Could Executor Gaketork offer us his written authority?” Grageth inquired. “The other attendees have managed to dodge Imperium decrees, but I’ve a committee investigating Rebtar, Dakargk, and me. Official approval would help me demonstrate that I’m supporting the presiding executor’s efforts.”
Grageth appeared crestfallen, and Fordark took pity on him.
Grageth gazed at his audience. They were staring intently at him, and he couldn’t read their thoughts.
