Clearing my throat, I turned my attention to the display of the Crystal Palace.
“Right. We have several targets we need to secure, and limited troops with which to take them. The armory, the barracks, the main hall…”
“Nobody’s mentioned the Federation delegation. We can’t expect them to take our countercoup lying down,” a Yezhidian officer added.
I highlighted the four suggested areas, considering them from a logistical standpoint. It was a nightmare. “We’re outnumbered, outgunned, and already we must divide our forces…”
Lyudmyla stepped up to the hologram table. “We’ll have armaments enough once we take the armory. If we’re looking for reinforcements, I know where we can find a host of Imperial loyalists eager to fight for the Emperor.” She indicated an area near the stables. “They’re being held here, awaiting transportation or execution.”
“That’s where the Urgan delegation is being held as well,” Boleslaw put in. “I’m sure they’d be willing to fight.”
“All Imperials, though, not necessary Selnikov’s forces alone,” Darius growled. “We can’t trust them.”
“I’m not convinced we can trust you, Archduke,” Lyudmyla said. “Cavorting with Royals and enemies of the Empire, whose side are you on?”
I slammed my fist onto the table. “The Emperor’s side! This planning is pointless. Armory, reinforcements, disrupting the treaty, none of it matters if we don’t first rescue the Emperor.That is of primary and paramount importance, and we don’t even know where she’s being held.”
Ingvar gave that small, servile cough he had perfected. “Actually, sir…”
“You know where the Emperor is being held?” I asked.
Ingvar leaned back slightly. “Not precisely, sir, but these last two days, I have had the dishonor to wait upon Count Zukov and Prince Selnikov. They both know where the Emperor is currently imprisoned.”
I cut him off with a slash of my hand. “Selnikov is no good. He’ll be under heavy guard the whole time. We might as well skip to the end where we’re all executed.”
“And the dissidents likely have orders to execute the Emperor should Selnikov be threatened,” Princess Marie added.
“Precisely so,” Ingvar said. “That is why we should target Count Zukov for interrogation.”
“And you know where he is?” Darius asked.
Ingvar grinned, the corners of his mouth impossibly wide. “I do, sir.”
“Then step one, I go to rescue the Emperor. The rest of you will assume position and await my signal. Once you hear the Emperor has been released, move on your objectives immediately. Things will happen very quickly once the Emperor is freed. Got it?” I asked.
The table agreed, but Boleslaw raised a single finger. “It’s all fascinating, but I’m still not certain what the plan is, exactly.”
I leaned on the table, examining the holographic layout of the Crystal Palace complex. “That’s what we have all night to figure out.”
ON THIN ICE IN THIN AIR
“I THOUGHT YOUsaid the Empire would expect face-concealing helmets,” I murmured as I looked through the heads-up display of a combat visor at theRoyal Darius’s airlock as we slowly approached the Imperial suborbital station.
“That was in the Crystal Palace. This is not,” Archduke Darius responded.
“My mistake. I was under the impression infiltrating a high-security Imperial military facility would be a smidgen more difficult than crashing a high society gala.”
“And don’t you feel the fool? Now quiet! You’re supposed to be my bodyguard, not my conversation partner.”
The charade had been discussed at length in the planning room. There, it had seemed a sound idea, but twenty kilometers above the ground approaching an Imperial high-altitude command and control center, I was less sure.
I was dressed as a Yezhidian space marine, primarily because they wore full-face helmets to protect them from decompression events during orbital insertions. However,that meant I was also wearing the ridiculous skintight pressure suit and emergency oxygen bottles they carried. With the oversized helmet, gloves, and boots, I looked like an anatomically correct stick figure, and not even the gear-laden equipment harness could help. At least I was armed.
“You couldn’t add an overtunic or trousers?” I asked. “The pockets would doubtless be useful.”
“They’re unnecessary,” said Tredesceu. He was a real Yezhidian space marine, spartan and severe and completely comfortable in his revealing battle uniform. “Space marines take only what they need to establish a beachhead. The ground troops bring everything else.”
I could not argue against the Yezhidian’s combat record. They had one of the finest space forces in the quadrant, and their drop troopers and marines had proven terrifyingly effective at penetrating a planet’s orbital defenses and establishing a portal before Allied ground forces could stop them. “Still, you could have considered your soldiers’ modesty.”
