The Barbarian Bride (The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire Book 3)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “The Outsiders have alien allies,” Kratman reminded him. “They’re unlikely to tolerate a continuation of the old policy.”

  “You mean crushing all threats, keeping the aliens firmly under control and dropping KEWs at the slightest hint of trouble,” Elf said, flatly. “And exploiting alien labour on their own homeworlds.”

  “Yes,” Kratman agreed.

  Roman cursed under his breath. The problem hadn’t changed. If they supported alien freedom, even aliens confined to their homeworlds, they’d be handing Emperor Marius a guaranteed propaganda coup. There was nothing — nothing — that galvanised the great mass of public opinion in the Federation more than the prospect of aliens being granted even limited independence. The Brotherhood had played a major role in keeping public opinion firmly turned against the aliens.

  And yet, not granting aliens rights and freedoms would alienate the Outsiders. Even if the human Outsiders accepted it, their alien allies would not. And then the civil war would only become worse.

  Elf cleared her throat. “What does it actually matter?”

  Kratman tossed her a sharp look. “What do you mean?”

  “If some of the reports I’ve heard through the grapevine are accurate, the industrial workforce is having major problems keeping up with the Emperor’s demands,” Elf said. “You suggested as much yourself. So they get convinced we’re going to free the aliens, with scenes out of a bad low-budget movie... so what? Even if he were assured of total support, could the Emperor translate it into something effective?”

  Roman had to smile. Elf was right. Public opinion, outside of the workforce, mattered very little. What were they going to do? Hold protests against alien rights? And even if the workforce suddenly became far more motivated, it wouldn’t slow the steady decline of the Federation’s industry. Hell, it might make it a great deal worse.

  “It might also motivate his military personnel,” Kratman said. “How often do they watch those low-budget movies?”

  “It may not matter,” Roman said. “The Emperor... the Emperor can be very inspiring, when he chooses to be.”

  He looked back at the table. “We’ll agree to withdraw troops and fortifications from alien homeworlds, granting them independence,” he said. “Alien worlds that exist beyond the Rim will be left alone, provided they leave us alone; if they don’t leave us alone, we’ll smash their militaries and confine them to their homeworlds. And if they want to trade with us... maybe we’ll let them.”

  “That won’t go down well with everyone,” Kratman warned.

  Roman shrugged. “In my entire career, Professor, I’ve only ever seen a handful of living aliens, all from the same race,” he said. “How often does the average citizen see an alien? I don’t think there are any real aliens in any of those stupid movies.”

  “There aren’t,” Kratman confirmed.

  Roman looked at him, sharply. “Work out the basics for a post-victory Federation,” he said, “and have them ready to present to the Outsiders. I imagine they’ll want to haggle for hours over the details...”

  “Days,” Kratman said. “If not months.”

  “But if we lose, it won’t matter in the slightest,” Roman said. “And you’d better make it clear to them that Nova Athena was a human world... and the Emperor was willing to fire on it anyway. I rather doubt he’d hesitate to scorch an alien world clean of life.”

  “It has been done before,” Kratman said. He rose, then hesitated. “I assume I have a cabin?”

  “You’ll have plenty of space to work,” Roman assured him. He keyed his terminal, calling a steward. “The steward will show you to your cabin. I’d suggest a shower and sleep before you actually do anything.”

  Kratman smiled. “In the words of a very old philosopher, Roman, when you get to my age, ‘look as good, you will not.’”

  Elf smiled. “How did you survive so long on Boston without being caught?”

  “Big world,” Kratman said. “And there’s always an underground, if you know where to look and have the money to convince them you’re worth helping.”

  He shrugged, then followed the steward out of the compartment.

  “It’s not going to end,” Roman said. “Is it?”

  “Probably not,” Elf said. She leaned forward and patted his knee. “Nothing ever ends. All you can do is try your best.”

  “I know,” Roman said. He sighed, wishing he had time to take her to bed. “And now I have to get my ships ready before the Outsiders arrive.”

  “Or before the Emperor counterattacks,” Elf added. “That would put the cat amongst the mice.”

  Chapter Nine

  The Outsiders, by contrast, remained a reasonably united force even after the defeat at Boston and the near-defeat at Nova Athena.

  —The Federation Navy in Retrospect, 4199

  Boston, 4101

  Chang Li vaguely remembered passing through Boston, back when she’d left Earth after Admiral Justinian had started a civil war. She hadn’t stayed long, unsure of just which way the system’s commanding officer was planning to jump. He’d stayed loyal in the end, she recalled, but she’d had some nasty moments before she finally returned home. The Grand Senate, having granted itself colossal powers to ensure the security of the Federation, might well have sought to arrest her on trumped-up charges.

  Now, she couldn’t help feeling oddly conflicted as the superdreadnaught Freedom transited through the Asimov Point and entered the Boston System. She had returned, but as a diplomatic envoy rather than a conqueror. And, no matter how she looked at it, there was no way to avoid the fact that she would have to convince the system’s population to join her, rather than taking their hatred of the Federation for granted. Boston had not only survived two rounds of war, it had prospered... and it was loyal to Admiral Garibaldi. If it hadn’t been, the war might have come within shouting distance of being lost.

  “Fifth Fleet is currently holding position midway between Boston and Asimov Point One,” General Stuart said, as he stood beside her in the CIC. “It isn’t a bad choice, really. Gives Garibaldi a mix of possible options if the Feds show themselves.”

  Li nodded and turned her attention back to the display. Boston was heavily industrialized, far more than ninety percent of the other systems along the Rim; it would have been a valuable prize, if her forces had taken it and its industry intact. Dozens of ore miners made their way through the asteroid belt, transporting raw materials to the industrial nodes orbiting Boston itself, while countless freighters headed to and from the Asimov Points or out into interstellar space. Throughout the system, powerful fortifications orbited the planet and guarded the Asimov Points. It was impossible to escape the impression that Admiral Garibaldi had an invulnerable fortress, if he chose to use it.

  And yet, she knew that was an illusion. Given sufficient firepower, any system could be taken, either through direct assault or a careful campaign of isolation before dispatching a fleet across interstellar space to finish the job. The fortresses that dominated the display could be left to die, once they were cut off from their supply lines, while the planet itself was an immoveable target. If the Emperor had been willing to bombard Nova Athena, she asked herself, was there anything stopping him from targeting Boston? A single antimatter bomb would be more than enough to lay waste to the entire planet.

  And I wonder, she thought, just how many of the people on the planet understand the risk?

  “We’ve picked up a communication from the command fortress,” General Stuart said. “They want us to join the main body of the fleet for discussions.”

  Li nodded. “Take us there,” she said. She wished, despite herself, that she knew more about Admiral Garibaldi. What would he want from the Outsiders — and what would he see as the ideal post-war universe? “I’ll be in my cabin. Please inform me when we reach shuttlecraft range.”

  “Of course, Senator,” General Stuart said. He paused. “They are also asking for us to share classified information on our ships, so t
hey can be slotted into their command network. The risks are quite high.”

  “I know,” Li said. She looked back at the display, then shook her head. If Admiral Garibaldi had intended a trap, he’d have opened fire on her ships as they transited the Asimov Point and entered the system, one by one. “But the risks have to be borne.”

  She nodded again, then strode through the hatch and down the corridor to her cabin. It was smaller, by far, than the stateroom she’d been allocated on the liner she’d taken to Earth, decades ago, but she didn’t mind. Her importance wasn’t measured by the size of her quarters or the quality of her food. She closed the hatch behind her, checked the timer and lay down on the bed. There should be more than enough time for a quick nap before she needed to board the shuttlecraft.

  Her lips curved into a smile. General Stuart would have been surprised, she was sure, to know she was napping, but she’d reached a point where constant revision was more likely to harm than help. There was nothing to be gained by going over the talking points, again and again; it would just drive her mad when she needed to relax and center herself for the coming discussions. She closed her eyes and started to take deep breaths. All she could do now was wait and sleep.

  * * *

  “Welcome back, Senator,” Admiral Garibaldi said, as she and General Stuart were shown into his cabin. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Li said. Admiral Garibaldi wasn’t alone: he was flanked by the young female marine she recalled from their first meeting and an older man who looked to be in his late seventies, although that could be an illusion. A person with access to rejuvenation treatments might remain the same physical age even as they entered their third century. “I’m very relieved that you managed to secure the system.”

  “So am I,” Admiral Garibaldi said. “And that most of my crews remained loyal.”

  “I wanted to ask about that.” Li said. “Have you had any trouble?”

  “A couple of thousand officers and men were shipped to internment camps on Boston,” Garibaldi said, as he motioned for them to sit down. “Most of them were reluctant to fight against the Emperor, either because they were loyal to him or felt that another round of civil war would shatter the Federation. They will, of course, remain unharmed.”

  General Stuart leaned forward. “Can you be sure there are no sleeper agents still present on your ships?”

  “No,” Admiral Garibaldi said, bluntly. He didn’t seem annoyed by the question, but Li would have been surprised if he wasn’t. “There’s no way to be sure of anything.”

  Li winced. Spies were bad enough, but programmed sleeper agents were far worse. They could fool lie detectors because they didn’t know they were sleeper agents; they knew themselves to be loyal. And yet, they might be pushed into taking action by commands they didn’t know had been inserted into their brains, if the alternate personality didn’t simply wash the original personality aside.

  “We don’t have time to brain-scan everyone who might have been turned into a sleeper agent,” Admiral Garibaldi said, flatly. “All we can do is take precautions and hope.”

  He shook his head. “But that’s not what we’re here to discuss,” he said. “First, we need to decide on a plan of campaign; second, we need to discuss the future of the post-war universe.”

  “That is correct,” Li agreed. “I was under the impression, however, that you wanted to win the war before haggling over the peace.”

  “Professor Kratman insisted that I should have a plan for managing the transition,” Admiral Garibaldi said. He nodded to the older man. “You’ll be negotiating with him, later. For the moment...”

  He keyed a switch. A starchart sprang to life, displaying the shortest route from Boston to Earth. Li, somewhat to her surprise, had no difficulty in understanding it, although — in hindsight — she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. The Outsider Navy had largely copied the Federation Navy’s protocols, just to make life easier for experienced officers who joined the cause. Or, for that matter, to command captured warships.

  “There are thirteen Asimov Points between Boston and Earth,” Garibaldi said, “and two interstellar gulfs that will have to be crossed in FTL. Assuming we don’t have to do any actual fighting, it would take around three months to reach the Gateway and enter the Sol System. As it happens, there are formidable defenses emplaced at Ruthven, Marble, Tara Prime and the Gateway itself. The latter two, in particular, are formidable indeed.”

  Li frowned. “None of the other Asimov Points are defended?”

  “There were a handful of minefields and automated weapons platforms, as of the last set of updates,” Garibaldi said. “However, the defended Asimov Points are chokepoints; we have to go through them or spend years trying to reach our destination via stardrive. There are alternatives — we can go through a different Asimov Point at Astrid and enter Tara Prime through the New London Asimov Point — but we’d still have to tangle with formidable fixed defenses.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Making matters more complicated, Senator, is the simple fact that the Tara Sector is controlled by Admiral Theodore Vincent,” he added. “I don’t know him, but he wouldn’t have been left in command of the sector if he hadn’t been regarded as both competent and loyal. I’m hoping he will switch sides, which will make getting through the Tara Prime chokepoint a great deal easier, but there’s no guarantee of anything. He might stay with the Emperor or he may declare independence as a rogue warlord.”

  “I assume he has a file,” Li said, after a moment’s thought. She hadn’t met Admiral Vincent either. “Does it say anything useful?”

  “Very little,” Professor Kratman said. “He left the Luna Academy ten years before the Justinian War and cut his way to a captaincy, purely on merit. His career stalled afterwards as he had no powerful connections; he only became a commodore after his superior officers were killed during the war. Marius must have known him, I suspect; Tara Prime is not exactly a place to park someone you don’t trust. But there’s no hint of where they actually met.”

  Li’s eyes narrowed. “They didn’t serve together?”

  “Captain Vincent’s ship was assigned to Operation Retribution and fought in the Battle of Boskone,” Admiral Garibaldi said, quietly. “They may have met in the aftermath, Senator. I certainly met the Admiral after Boskone. But they didn’t serve together after that, as far as we can tell.”

  “Which means that the Emperor either made a snap judgement,” the female marine said, “or they worked together on something that wasn’t included in the files.”

  “There’s no way to know,” Admiral Garibaldi said. “I’ve sent messages to Vincent, but he hasn’t had time to reply. We’re proceeding on the assumption he’s going to be hostile until proven otherwise.”

  He tapped the display. “I intend to leave Boston and proceed to Ruthven within two weeks — ideally, as soon as we have the latest sets of assault pods loaded onto the ships,” he said, curtly. “The fleet train will have to work hard, unfortunately, as we will be forcing the Emperor’s ships to fall back on his own supply bases. Worse, we will have to proceed from Ruthven to Marble as soon as possible, forcing us into another engagement with a heavily-defended system.”

  “Attacking Marble should be easier,” General Stuart pointed out. “You’d be attacking the defenses from the rear, instead of punching through an Asimov Point.”

  “There are fortresses on both sides of the Asimov Point,” Admiral Garibaldi said. “I imagine one group of fortresses will rush to battlestations as the second group holds out as long as it can. I’m not sure what the planners were thinking...”

  He shook his head. “We must assume that the Emperor has also detached forces to harass our supply shipments,” he added. “Convoying enough assault points to Maben to prepare for an attack on Tara Prime will be difficult, all the more so as Tara Prime would be a very good place for the Emperor to make a stand.”

  “You mean it’s just like Boston,” G
eneral Stuart said. “Only you are faced with the task of taking the system, rather than defending it.”

  “I’m afraid so,” Admiral Garibaldi said. “If you have any wonder weapons that can blow a fortress into atoms with a single hit... now would be an excellent time to produce them.”

  “We don’t,” General Stuart said. “The Marsha have been quite happy to fly suicide missions, piloting cutters crammed with antimatter, but I suspect the Feds will be ready for such tricks.”

  “I know,” Admiral Garibaldi agreed. “You used them on me.”

  He took a moment to gather himself, then leaned forward. “I don’t think I need to tell you just how important it is that we preserve as much as possible of our mobile fighting power,” he warned. “Home Fleet is still the single most powerful fleet element in the entire Federation, Senator, and it is backed up by the immense fortifications surrounding the Gateway and Earth itself. We could punch our way through to Sol and still lose the war.”

  “There is an alternative,” General Stuart suggested. “Once we secure Tara Prime, we could launch raids through the Core Worlds, devastating their industrial base. The Emperor’s ships would eventually grind to a halt through lack of maintenance and supplies.”

  “We could try,” Admiral Garibaldi said, “but we’d have to tangle with dozens of other fixed defenses, wearing down our fleet too.”

  He looked directly at Li. “How many additional ships can you supply?”

  Li nodded to General Stuart, who cleared his throat. “Though the magic of actually streamlining the whole process, Admiral, it takes us around six months to turn out a whole new superdreadnaught. Add another month or two to work the ship up... overall, give us a few years and we can replace all of our superdreadnaught losses. Smaller ships take less time, as you might expect; we’ve managed to get destroyer build times down to a month, assuming all the parts are on hand.

  “Crewing is, of course, a weakness,” he added. “Our training programs are far superior to the Federation’s” — Li winced, inwardly, at the gloating note in his voice — “but our manpower base is nowhere near as extensive. However, we are recruiting more crew from the stage-one and two colony worlds that have joined our union. I suspect we will be churning out double or triple the amount of trained manpower within the next two years.”