Three Square Meals Ch. 107

Lynette experienced a sudden intense flash of jealousy that startled her with the strength of the emotion. She desperately fought it down, trying to remind herself that it was just an innocuous comment from Charles. But then again, there was clearly something on her fellow Admiral's mind... maybe he was thinking about that redheaded strumpet right now?! Perhaps Lina had jumped his bones after their dinner together the other night and already got her claws into him!

*Easy there, beautiful...* Alyssa said softly, a soothing wave of calm accompanying her melodic voice. Her light laughter echoed through Lynette's mind a moment later. *Remind me to thank John again for making it so we can't get jealous of each other! He's a lot wiser than he looks.*

Lynette ordered fajitas and a fruit juice, while darting Charles an anxious glance to see if he'd noticed her flare of jealousy. He seemed completely oblivious however and was actually caught by surprise by the waiter's polite request for his order. It was quite clear to her that Charles was troubled by something, as he wasn't acting himself at all.

After the waiter returned with their drinks, Lynette took a sip of her pineapple juice, enjoying the sweet taste. "So, Charles... where are we at with the Olympus project?"

Roused from his thoughts, he gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry Lynette, I was away with the fairies." He paused for a moment, then replied, "The preliminary surveys of the civilian docking bays are complete. We're lucky that there's a broad mix of bay sizes; the percentages roughly correspond to the ratios of capital ships to cruisers and destroyers, which means we won't have to waste time and money on expensive renovations."

"I sense a 'but' coming," Lynette noted with a flicker of a smile.

He shook his head, taking a sip of his drink before continuing, "We're actually in great shape to start... but I'm thinking we should stagger the conversion of civilian bays for military purposes. Perhaps allocate sets of bays into phased rollouts..."

She listened with interest. "Why would we do that? Surely we want to ramp up fleet construction as quickly as possible?"

"We'll deprive Olympus of valuable docking fees every time we convert a docking bay and the rate we can reconfigure each docking bay into a usable drydock is limited," he patiently explained. "If we act too quickly, scores of bays will stand idle for months; we won't have the facilities built in time and there won't be the engineering crews available to work the new drydock areas."

Lynette gave him an appreciative nod. "It's a good job I have an expert administrator on hand to oversee the upgrades."

He smiled at the compliment. "Thank you, Lynette. By the way, I think you've made an excellent choice assigning Admiral Van Den Broeck to oversee the civilian side. Lina's really impressed me with her enthusiasm; I'm looking forward to working with her over the next few years."

Another quick telepathic caress from Alyssa helped the Fleet Admiral regulate her wild surge of envy and self-doubt. She gritted her teeth and did her best to return his guileless smile. "I'm glad you approve."

The conversation for the rest of the meal was relatively subdued, touching on mundane items related to the shipyard refit. Lynette was having a hard time keeping her emotions under control, while Charles was definitely troubled by something, gazing distractedly into the distance on more than one occasion.

Lynette frowned when she realised it was nearly one o'clock, signifying the end of their lunchtime meeting. Deciding to just put herself out of her misery, she blurted out, "Charles, you've been very distracted today... Is there something on your mind?"

He shot her a guilty look, his expression torn with indecision before he finally replied, "Actually there is... I was just-"

"Charlie! What a coincidence!" Admiral Van Den Broeck gushed, the statuesque redhead sashaying between the tables to join them. "I was just on my way to see you!" When she reached the table, she glanced at Lynette and gave her a coy smile. "Ah, Fleet Admiral Devereux... Sorry for interrupting, I didn't see you there. I hope you enjoyed your meal?"

"It was very pleasant, thank you," Lynette managed to choke out.

"Wonderful." Lina turned to Charles and playfully trailed her fingertips up his arm as if to get his attention. "It looks like you're finished with lunch, Charlie. Any chance I can borrow you this afternoon?"

"Borrow me?" he asked, smiling at her and raising an eyebrow.

She flashed her pretty green eyes at him. "Everyone knows you're the man that gets things done around Olympus. I was hoping I could pump you for information on how to implement all my new ideas."

Charles glanced at Lynette and smiled. "It sounds like it's an emergency. Same time again tomorrow?"

*Quick! Ask him out for a drink tonight!* Alyssa blurted out. *It'll put a time-limit on Lina's afternoon with Charles and fuck up her seduction plans!*

Lynette rose from her chair, placing her napkin on her plate. "Lunch was lovely, thank you, Charles." She paused as if a sudden thought had come to her. "If you're free this evening, I was wondering if you'd like to have that celebratory drink you mentioned?"

His expression brightened and he quickly nodded. "Of course! Is seven okay? I can meet you at your quarters, then we can head out from there."

She tried not to let a triumphant smile spread across her face when she saw Lina's sudden frown of irritation. "That sounds perfect, see you then."

Lina hooked her arm through Charles' as they walked away, but the backwards glance over her shoulder at Lynette was speculative rather than victorious. The feisty redhead had a tight-lipped smile on her face as if she were re-evaluating her assessment of the Fleet Admiral as a competitor for Charles' affection.

***

Deep Lord Athgiloi grimaced as he strode into the ancient chamber and approached his dais. The normal feelings of wonder when he entered the Deep Pool's audience hall were curiously absent today, as he was dealing with such disturbing problems that he had no room left in his mind for awe.

"We commence this gathering, paying homage to the wild seas," he intoned reverently, his cold black eyes glancing around at the other Brimorians in attendance. His lip curled in anger when he saw the perfunctory bows from the other members of the Deep Pool, showing the barest minimum of respect.

Lord Rilosash wasted no time in snapping, "I warned you about John Blake! But you refused to listen!"

Lord Sibhaloi nodded, glowering at his leader. "He played you for a fool! You gave away our prized shield technology and got nothing in return! The Vulkat's crystal manufacturing tech is useless!"

"Not necessarily," Athgiloi protested, shaking his head. "We might not have the psychic personnel to operate the device, but there's always the Ashanath or the Bolons. With the right financial inducements to their people we might yet be able to grow eternity crystals..."

Rilosash ground his teeth and snarled, "That's the least of our concerns! Your rampaging Buletark used our technology to absolutely demolish the Kintark! If you'd refused him entry to the Enclave as I requested, we'd be picking over the carcass of the Terran Federation!"

"What glib allegory have you got for us now, Deep Lord?" Lord Paotegh taunted with a sneer. "The Kintark Megacaradon might be slain and its Terran rival badly mauled, but it appears John Blake was the third challenger all too ready to establish his dominance!"

Athgiloi quivered with fury at their impertinent tone, but the most galling realisation was that they were essentially correct. "I admit, I might have miscalculated his strength," he conceded, to a chorus of indignant disbelief. Raising his voice, Athgiloi continued sternly, "BUT... we have not actually lost anything! Not a solitary ship, nor a single Brimorian marine has been sacrificed in battle, and yet, two of our neighbours lie broken, each a shadow of their former strength!"

"So, how do you propose to capitalise on the aftermath of the Battle of Terra?" Lord Semord asked, his voice uncharacteristically curt. "We all saw the devastation that Blake unleashed on the Kintark when they invaded Terran Space... if we follow our previous plan, it's inevitable we'll face his wrath!"

Squaring his shoulders the Deep Lord held his head high. "I see two courses of action ahead of us. First and foremost, is the opportunity for substantial gains at the expense of the Kintark..."

"Such a betrayal would never be forgiven!" Lord Rilosash hissed, his black eyes widening at the suggestion. "If we should fail, we'll face their eternal enmity... Are you absolutely certain that we can annihilate them?"

"The Emperor committed all his forces in a disastrous gambit," Athgiloi replied firmly. "The Empire has been entirely denuded of ships... our spies have not seen so much as a single military vessel in weeks!"

Lord Semord considered the idea for a moment, then cautiously stated, "It will take us at least two weeks to reposition our hunting fleets from the Terran border to be ready for a Kintark invasion..."

Athgiloi shrugged, his confidence growing. "Two weeks won't save the Kintark. How long does it take to construct a new cruiser? I'd say at least four months? And it will take more than a handful of cruisers to stop the might of our fleets!" He allowed himself a grin at the thought of all those unprotected worlds. "The Kintark Empire's soft underbelly is exposed; between us, the Terrans, the Maliri, and the Enshunu, they'll be consumed in a feeding frenzy!"

Lord Semord clicked his sharp teeth, then finally nodded. "I concede that annexing scores of Kintark Worlds will be a considerable boon... but what of the Terran Federation? They are all but unassailable, hiding behind the protection offered by Blake."

"Which leads me to our second opportunity for gain," Athgiloi replied, allowing the anticipation to fill his voice. "Reports indicate that the Federation lost substantial fleet assets against the Kintark. If ever there was a time to strike at the Terrans, it is now, or at least very soon. To that end I request your patience... I have been advised that the Federation is currently fighting off a Kirrix invasion; we need only bide our time and wait for further disaster to befall them. Should anything unfortunate happen to John Blake, then we'll be poised and ready to strike."

The members of the Deep Pool slowly nodded, signalling their grudging acceptance of his proposed actions.

Sensing the shift in mood, the Deep Lord raised himself up and said, "This is simply the first act in the ascendancy of the Brimorian Enclave. The Terran Federation lies battered, the Kintark Empire broken, and the Trankarans are crippled by a Kirrix invasion! Our neighbours are weak and vulnerable... while we are strong and ready!"

Rilosash darted an anxious glance at the other Brimorian Lords. "You make no mention of the Maliri, yet they are roaming the galaxy for the first time in millennia. We all witnessed the terrifying firepower at their disposal... not even our alpha-shielded vessels could stand against them!"

Athgiloi shook his head and said condescendingly, "The Maliri are no threat to us. As galling as it was for us to accede to Maliri forces traversing Brimorian Space, Queen Edraele was simply exercising her right by treaty to pass through Enclave territory. If she were truly belligerent, why would she even bother with legal justification for that encroachment?"

"What of our plans to attack the Kintark?" Lord Semord enquired, his voice tense with worry. "How will the Maliri react to that?"

"The Maliri obviously have no love for the Kintark, as they have so convincingly demonstrated. They are hardly going to object to us attacking a common foe," the Deep Lord replied with absolute certainty. "No, we will be entirely unopposed... our victory is all but guaranteed."

He waited for a moment to see if there were any more questions, but the Deep Lords had all fallen silent, contemplating the points he'd decisively made.

"John Blake lurking in the Terran Federation makes them a poor choice of target, but we simply have to adapt to events as they present themselves." Athgiloi glanced at Lord Paotegh and his lips peeled back over his needle-like teeth in a mocking smile. "When a hungry Megacaradon roams into your hunting grounds, only a fool ignores its fearsome presence, no matter how succulent the prey. The wise hunter simply looks elsewhere for his catch, returning to familiar territory only when the threat has passed."

Paotegh bristled at Athgiloi's delivery of another smug allegory but disagreeing with the obvious wisdom of the Deep Lord's words would have made him seem the fool. His shoulders sagged and he looked down, realising he'd been outmanoeuvred by a political master.

"Make your preparations for war, my Lords," Athgiloi said with a wicked smile of anticipation. "The Brimorian Enclave is on the cusp of a glorious victory the likes of which the galaxy has never seen!"

When the members of the Deep Pool bowed to him, this time each of the Brimorian Lords did so with respect. Athgiloi's smile broadened at their change in attitude and bowed to them in return before leaving the chamber. He strode through the high-arched doorway then down the corridor towards his personal quarters.

Arriving at the ornate doorway, he reached for the handle set amongst pearl-encrusted scenes of Brimorians armed with tridents hunting ferocious aquatic predators. Pushing it open, his eyes darted around the dimly-lit room as he searched for Celphna. To his astonishment, he saw her kneeling before Athgiloi's personal throne, offering a goblet on a platinum dish to the cowled figure that lounged there. He'd never seen Celphna so much as acknowledge another person without his permission, let alone behave this deferentially towards anyone.

Fighting down a white-hot surge of anger, he entered his quarters and closed the door behind him. "Lord Larn'kelnar, this is a pleasant surprise," he muttered, trying not to make an indignant click in his throat.

His unsettling ally studied Celphna intently. "I was just admiring your pet, Deep Lord. She really is quite fascinating..."

"Celphna was a gift from Emperor Baledranax," Athgiloi said cautiously as he walked across the room.

Pulling back his cowl, Larn'kelnar leaned forward and gestured towards the kneeling Brimorian female. "Come closer, pet."

Athgiloi felt his tube-shaped heart convulse in his chest as the Progenitor reached out to place a hand on Celphna's scaled forehead. Larn'kelnar's eyes glowed with a faint grey light and he appeared to be staring at something only he could see.

"Such an innovative solution," he murmured, the admiration quite apparent in his voice. He slowly withdrew his fingers, then turned to give the Brimorian leader a sly look. "Do you know what she is, Deep Lord?"

"The Terrans call them Nymphs; shapeshifters whose only desire is to please their master," Athgiloi replied nonchalantly, determined to show his guest that he was not to be underestimated. "I had thought them to be extinct until she was presented to me."

Larn'kelnar inclined his head, an enigmatic smile on his face. "Still working as intended after all these years..."

He took the goblet from the platinum tray then rose gracefully from the throne. Celphna stood as well, turning to watch the Progenitor as he walked over to one of the curved windows that offered a spectacular view of Sequathis. Athgiloi felt a thrilling sense of elation as the Nymph's blank expression turned to one of joy when she laid eyes on him.

"This one missed you, Master!" she gasped, her eyes as black as the darkest depths of Brimor's oceans.

Athgiloi resisted the urge to embrace her and ordered imperiously, "Fetch me a glass of the same beverage, Celphna."

She bowed to him respectfully, but he could see her lips curl into a smile at his authoritative tone.

"Were the Deep Pool as quarrelsome as we expected?" Larn'kelnar asked, paying no further interest to the Nymph. He sipped his drink and gazed out at the dazzling swirl of the city lights.

"They soon fell into line," Athgiloi replied, although his tone wasn't as confident as his bold words. "Thankfully they never asked, but... are you certain that John Blake won't seek retribution for the cut-off devices we concealed in the shield generators? The Kintark would have definitely attempted to deactivate them... the fact they failed must mean Blake discovered and neutralised them."

"I have plans in motion to take John Blake out of the equation," the Progenitor replied, glancing his way and smiling. "Then you'll be able to pillage the Terran Federation at your leisure..."

***

Jehanna Elani stepped out of the hover-cab and slipped her bag over a shoulder. She glanced up the sweeping flight of stone steps that led to the entrance of TFNN tower and felt sick at the sight of the wanton destruction. T-Fed Special Forces following Buckingham's orders had opened fire on the building, blasting the tall bronze doors off their hinges and leaving a hideous mosaic of bullet holes across the marble walls of the reception area.

She walked slowly up the steps and entered the building, following a path swept through the destruction. Two armed security guards stood inside the debris-strewn reception, watching as construction crews cleared away the broken rubble. The closest glanced her way as she approached, then his face lit up in a broad smile of recognition.

"Miss Elani!" he exclaimed, striding over to greet her. "We all heard about your abduction! You're a real sight for sore eyes!"

"Good to see you too, Andre," she said, returning his smile. Her gaze flickered to the devastated foyer and her smile died. "I'm so glad you weren't hurt in all this."

His expression shadowed with grief. "I'd finished my shift... Zander, Nia, and Darnell didn't make it."

"Oh God, no..." she murmured, her voice thick with emotion as she remembered the friendly team of security guards. Come rain or shine, they'd always greeted her with a cheerful hello and some jovial banter to start the morning.

"There's a service for them this Sunday... they'd have been honoured if you could make it," Andre said, reaching out to rub her arm in sympathy.

Jehanna nodded, blinking away the tears. "I'll be there, I promise."

He gave her a sad smile, then turned back to speak with his colleague.

Picking her way through the shattered marble tiles, Jehanna walked past the demolished reception desk, trying not to look too closely at the faded bloodstains on the floor. In the lobby beyond, the lifts were out of service, so she followed the staircase up to the next level. There were more signs of fighting up here, with a line of bullet holes stitched across the gallery-level walls. She walked up several more flights until finally reaching the TFNN newsroom.

These doors had been torn down too and now the battered remains were propped up against the wall. Peeking through the doorway, she spotted the TFNN Editor-in-Chief talking to her co-Anchor,

Bill Armstrong, whose left shoulder and arm were swathed in a white cast.

"Hey Chief," Jehanna said with a self-conscious smile, as she walked over to join the pair.

"Jehanna!" Avery exclaimed, opening his arms and hugging her tight. "I was so worried about you!"

Bill and Jehanna gaped at each other in astonishment, having never seen him be that demonstrative with his affections before.

Avery held her for a long moment, then reluctantly released the young woman. He happened to catch Bill's incredulous stare, so he cleared his throat and snapped, "You better have something good for me!"

"I do, don't worry, Chief," Jehanna said with a smile. "Why don't you grab a coffee? I'll meet you in your office in a couple of minutes."