HGE - Episode 00 - Retired Honor

The Holy Galactic Empire

Episode 00 - Retired Honor

"Another round?" the bartender asked, after having noted the nearly empty glass.

The patron nodded his head in affirmation.

The bartender grabbed another glass and expertly poured another round of lager out of the tap. The beer foamed slightly leaving a small layer of white to top of the dark brown. The bartender set down the cold glass in front of the patron and moved on. Besides the patron with a fresh glass of beer, there were only a few other patrons in the small bar. There was a couple talking quietly in one of the booths another lone patron sitting at the other end of the bar. It was midafternoon so four patrons wasn't unusual. The bar could only really comfortably seat a few dozen people. So when four uniformed soldiers walked in, the number of patrons in the bar doubled. Unfortunately, the bartender was rather doubtful they would be buying anything.

"The bars closing for a private party," the lead soldier said, she wore the two stripes of rank of a captain. The three other soldiers wore a single stripe each marking them as commanders. Their uniforms were a jet black with silver stripes down their arms and legs. The bartender could see that they wore body armor under their uniforms. The all wore the silver sunburst of the imperial marines on their left chest. In some ways the more important insignia on their uniforms was the golden falcon beside the marine crest. The golden falcon grasped a sprig of wheat in its talons. The golden falcon was the emblem of the Duke of Twins. The only imperial marines who would wear the Duke of Twins alongside the silver sunburst, were members of the Duke's personal guard. 

The bartender didn't bother protesting. "Don't worry about that last round," the bartender told the patron whom he had just served. The beer was untouched. In fact, the patron finished off the dregs of the previous round after he stood up and put some money down to cover his tab. The coins clinked as a the patron counted them out and laid them down. The two patrons at the bar were both regulars and had no need to be told what the owed. 

The couple at the booth was the last to leave the bar. Then there was just the bartender and the four soldiers. They remained standing, the captain in front of the bar by near the bartender. Another down passed the end of the bar so as he could see behind it. The other two stood as a pair on the other side of the row of tables. The captain touched the screen on her wrist and the bars door opened again. This time three people entered. Two more soldiers, another captain and a commander by their stripes. They both took up positions on either side of the door. The two soldiers were preceded by a young man wearing clothing of the same cut as the marines, but instead of black it was a deep navy blue. Instead of silver stripes down his arms and legs the stripes were of gold. The only mark of rank he wore was the golden falcon on his right chest. 

"General," the young man began. 

But before he could continue, the bartender cut him off, "I see no generals in this establishment." The bartender's quickness to cut the young man off indicated that he had been waiting for such a moment.

The young man frowned slightly but was only slight put off by the bartender's interruption. "Fine, Sandar then, I would ask a favor of you."

"What does the Lord of Twins need from a simple barkeep like me?"

"You may not be a general anymore, Sandar, but you will never be a simple barkeep," the Lord of Twins pronounced.

"Fair enough," Sandar said, "But unless your favor involves me pouring you and your guards a round of beer, I think you should just go on your way."

Jason of House Falklor, the Lord of Twins, heir to the Dukedom of Twins, drummed his fingers on the bar top and appraised the man sitting on the stool behind the bar. "Damnit, Sandar, why do you have to be so difficult?"

"Your father made it quite impossible for me to be any other way and keep what little honor he left me," Sandar said. 

"Would you at least hear my request? That won't cost you anything." Jason asked after a long silence.

"It's costing me paying customers," Sandar said.

"Fine," Jason said and sat down at the bar. He fished out a few coins and laid them on the counter, "Sarah and I will have a round."

"I'm on duty, sir," the captain that had walked in first said.

Jason turned to the captain by the door and said, "Robert, you're taking over command of the guard." 

The captain, Robert, nodded in understanding.

Turning back to Captain Sarah, he said, "You're now off duty. Sit down and have a drink."

Sarah stood for a long moment before sitting down beside Jason. 

Sandar got up from his stool and grabbed another glass and poured another beer and set it in front of Sarah. He slid the beer he had poured before in front of Jason. "This one hasn't been touched so you can have that one."

Jason hesitated for a moment before nodding in acquiescence. Both Sarah and Jason took a pull from their respective glasses. Sandar noted that neither was very long. Neither of them particularly wanted to be drinking and it showed.

"Sarah...that would be Sarah Thomason wouldn't it?" Sandar asked a connection from an old memory clicking into place.

"Yes, sir," Sarah said with a slight smile.

"I thought we established I'm not an officer anymore, there's no need to call me sir, captain."

"Sorry," the captain grimaced, "force of habit."

"You two know each other?" Jason asked, glancing between the two. 

"The captain here was in one of my academy classes," Sandar explained, "Terrestrial Tactics if I recall correctly."

The captain nodded in agreement.

"Well the favor I would ask of you wouldn't involve terrestrial tactics," Jason said. Jason waited as if waiting for Sandar to say something in response. The former general only raised an eyebrow. "The Duke has tasked me with solving a particular problem for him. Or rather, for The Twins Duchy, as he would say." He took another pull on his beer before continuing. "As with all problems my father assigns me, there isn't one single root cause. But one of the major factors of the problem is orbital mechanics."

"Not exactly a flexible subject," Sandar noted dryly, then after a moments quick thinking surmised, "There are raiders attacking the asteroid fields around Saint Paul."

The Twins Duchy consisted primarily of a binary star system. The duchy also included two other largely uninhabited nearby star systems. The twin stars were named Saint Paul and Minneapolis. The majority of the population of the Twins Duchy lived in orbit of Minneapolis. Minneapolis had three planets within its habitable zone. The innermost of the three was the planet of Edina. The old joke about Edina - told primarily by the residents of the other planets - was that it was too hot to be truly habitable. The second habitable planet was Bloomington. Bloomington's large tracts of farmlands were the reason for the falcon heraldry of House Falklor to grasp a sprig of wheat in its talons. The third planet in the habitable zone of Minneapolis was the gas giant Shakopee. Three of Shakopee's many moons hosted large populations. Only a single small telluric planet orbited Bravo, Deephaven. 

The logic behind Sandar's conclusion about raiders around Saint Paul, was that due to the current orbital positions of Edina, Bloomington, and Shakopee, they were all almost as far from Saint Paul as their respective orbits would take them. Along with most of the population, most of the Duchy's military power was concentrated around Minneapolis. There were four main military bases in the system: two on otherwise uninhabited Shakopeean moons; another on the Bloomington's moon; and the last and smallest one orbiting Deephaven. Most of the time, the three Minneapolis bases were close enough to Deephaven to lend support. But current the positions of the planets made it so that they were all further away than normal. 

Jason sighed and confirmed, "Yes, we've been keeping it quiet for now. There have only been three relatively small raids. The first four attacks were against small mining ships only a half dozen crew apiece. The last attack which happened just yesterday destroyed a smelting factory. Over three dozen workers killed. It's only a matter of time before the attacks become general knowledge now."

"I'm assuming that additional navy units were deployed to support the Deephaven fleet after the first attack," Sandar said.

"That's on top of the ships we moved there in preparation of the current orbital realities," Jason said, "The raiders aren't just brigands. They aren't stealing anything. The just sneak in, destroy, and then high tail it out before the navy can get a decent scan of them."

"Why are you coming to me with this?" Sandar asked suddenly, "If this is supposed to be quiet, I don't have the clearance for this anymore."

Jason took a pull of his beer and looked down into it for a long moment before answering. "Because the raiders are too good. The first four attacks were done by a single small ship we believe to be almost as small as one of the old frigate class ships."

Sandar raised an eyebrow. Frigate class ships hadn't been used as anything but museums and show pieces for almost a century.

"The last attack included two of these...frigates and a larger ship, let's call it a destroyer. Along with the larger target, that's a rather large escalation from the previous attacks."

Sandar nodded in agreement.

"In addition, in all five attacks, the first we've detected them is almost as their firing their missiles. They're sneaking by our sensor sweeps somehow. Each of the attacks have been a single relatively small volley of missiles, before their burning hard for deep space. The frigates have been launching four missiles and this new destroyer launched an even dozen before running for it."

"A dozen missiles in a single volley?" Sandar asked, "That seems high for a destroyer."

"Agreed. We suspect that it wouldn't be able to fire many volleys of that size before running out of missiles."

"But when your target is a small civilian target, you don't need more than one volley."

"Exactly," Jason said, "I think these a ships specifically built for raids like this."

"Okay, so whoever is behind these attacks designed and built ships for attacks just like this," Sandar said, "That still doesn't answer my question. Why are you coming to me with this? I know for a fact that the Duke has several extremely competent admirals in his service. One of which I assume is in command of Deephaven Base. Regardless, I was a general not an admiral. My expertise does not lie in hunting down stealth ships. Now if you wanted to discuss how to board these ships once you find them, I could have been of assistance once upon a time. But times being what they are, I would suggest you seek advice from Captain Thomason here. I know for a fact that she was a promising young cadet when she was at the academy - and considering the position she holds now - she has fulfilled that potential."

The Captain smiled slightly at the compliment but didn't say anything.

Sandar looked back and forth between the Captain and the Lord but neither of them said anything. Sandar narrowed his eyes. "But you know that. Don't you? You already sought advice from your guard captain. And she suggested you come to me? Her old disgraced teacher turned barkeep? Why?" Suddenly Sandar's eye's flicked around his bar to the marines stationed around it. Lord Jason didn't normally go about with a half dozen guards. Sandar had thought at first they were here for show, to remind Sandar of his military service (as if he could ever forget it). But now, he saw them in a new light. The two by the door. The one at the end of the bar. The two stationed between the two small windows in the bar and their charge. And Captain Thomason right next to the Lord. She hadn't touched her beer since that first small sip. They were on edge. "What the hell is going on?"

The Story Continues