Ascendant

by Jack Campbell

  He couldn’t help wondering, though, whether it would stop with one light cruiser or if more warships would be required. Could Catalan afford that?

  Why hadn’t he heard of similar problems in other star systems?

  Ross stared at his door as he remembered what Dana Fuentes had said. “We only know what reaches us.”

  And right now everything coming to Catalan had to come through ships controlled by two companies that in turn were controlled by Scatha and Apulu.

  How bad was it out there?

  Maybe whatever needed to be done would require someone with a different set of skills than the typical diplomatic or trade representative. Ross Chen tapped the link to his assistant. “Where’s Freya Morgan?”

  “She’s handling the investigation of that incident on the orbital station.”

  “I need to talk to her. A much higher priority mission just came up.”

  Freya Morgan called in fewer than ten minutes, the background revealing she was in the high security office on the orbital facility. If she was concerned about the summons, nothing about her revealed that. But then, Freya Morgan never revealed anything she didn’t want to let others see. “I assume a call in immediately meant you wanted a secure line.”

  “I do,” Ross agreed. He explained the situation, trying to be as concise as possible without leaving out important details.

  “You want me to find out what’s going on?”

  “And arrange help for Catalan if it’s needed,” Ross said.

  “That’s a pretty damned big and,” Freya said.

  “We’re already in trouble,” Ross said, “but we don’t know how bad it is. You know people on Eire. They’ll listen to you, and you’ll know if you can trust what they tell you.”

  “This needs to be done yesterday?” she asked. “My only way out of this star system right now is a freighter due to leave in a few hours. They’ve only got room left for one passenger and . . . I just reserved that spot. But, if you’re right, that freighter is controlled by people who don’t want Catalan to know what’s going on elsewhere.”

  Ross gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Freya, Catalan spent good money to hire you away from Eire because you’ve got some hidden talents and because you don’t look dangerous. You can get past any obstacles if anyone can.”

  “It’s nice to be appreciated. But I still don’t like going solo on this. There are times when backup can literally be a matter of life or death.”

  “I know,” Ross said. “Catalan may be facing just such a time. I just had an epiphany hit me with a rock whose costs doubled overnight. See what kind of backup you can find for us. At the least, you’re going to be empowered to acquire another warship. I’ll get that authorization through on an emergency basis within the next hour and get it to you. Long term, we need to figure out how to make it safe for ships to go to and from Catalan at a cost we’re able to live with.”

  “What about Kosatka?” Freya Morgan asked. “The freighter I’m hopping a ride on is stopping there on the way to Eire.”

  “Catalan’s official position has been that we don’t want any part of Kosatka’s problems,” Ross said. “But it looks like those problems may also be our problems whether we like it or not. See what you can find out.”

  “Does that mean Catalan might consider offering some of the aid that Kosatka’s been asking for? I’m trying to find out the boundaries of my mission. How far am I supposed to go in terms of seeking assistance, knowing that whoever offers aid is going to want something in return?”

  “I don’t have an answer to that,” Ross said. “Technically, you’ll be labeled a trade negotiator. But the trades you’ll be negotiating will be about protecting the people in this star system. If you see what you think is a good deal for Catalan, you’ll have authority to explore that deal. But I can’t guarantee that the government of Catalan will approve the deal. And ensure that anything that you do doesn’t reflect badly on Catalan . . . or at least can’t be traced back to the government.”

  Freya gave a short and sharp burst of laughter. “I think I need to renegotiate my salary and job expectations. Just how much risk do you think is involved here?”

  “I don’t have an answer for that, either.” Ross Chen gestured helplessly. “But if I thought it was safe, I wouldn’t be asking you to do it.”

  “I won’t be able to trust anyone else on that freighter,” she told him. “That will complicate things if I run into trouble.”

  “You said they’re stopping at Kosatka. Maybe there’ll be someone at Kosatka.”

  “Maybe,” Freya Morgan said. “I know someone there I can ask, anyway.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Glenlyon Star System had won its last war on a shoestring, which had convinced many that any lack of preparation for defense could be overcome by last-minute improvising. That was looking less and less like a viable way of doing business, but at the moment it was all Glenlyon had.

  Which was why what amounted to a hastily organized council of war had gathered in the most secure room in the Glenlyon government office complex. Even Ninja had grudgingly admitted to Rob Geary that the room was “a little difficult” to penetrate with any possible surveillance method.

  Rob sat next to Mele Darcy, she wearing the new scarlet Marine working outfit that contrasted sharply with the deep blue of Rob’s fleet uniform and the dark green of Colonel Menziwa’s ground forces garb. Glenlyon still had nothing in the way of aerospace forces for defense of her airspace and near orbital locations, so no one in the traditional light blue aerospace uniform was present. Despite the age-old rivalry for funding and missions between fleet warships and aerospace defenses, Rob wished Glenlyon had invested in at least a squadron of warbirds to back up Saber’s defense of the planet.

  The three in uniform faced a long table where the Emergency Defense Committee sat. Rob had a sense of déjà vu as he looked at them. Council President Chisholm still led the government, having ridden to reelection on the popularity that had come with the successful repulse of Scatha’s attacks three years ago. Council Member Kim beamed at the three officers with an outward show of support that Rob had learned the hard way didn’t mean any personal concern for them. Council Member Odom still watched the others suspiciously, on constant guard against militarism. And Council Member Leigh Camagan eyed everyone else, alert, not betraying her thoughts, but also Rob knew his staunchest ally in the government.

  President Chisholm looked around as if having to count the seven occupants of the room to ensure all were present. “This room is locked down. All security protocols in effect. Colonel Menziwa, please give us your assessment of the situation.”

  Menziwa pursed her lips as if still thinking through her statement, but when she began speaking her words were firm. “We cannot successfully defend this planet from invasion against the size of the forces arrayed against us. Our three options would be to either surrender before the enemy lands, engage the enemy as they land in a full-out battle that would result in my regiment being rapidly overwhelmed and forced to surrender, or disperse my forces into undeveloped areas and wage a protracted guerrilla war against the invaders in the hope of either other star systems eventually providing assistance or making the cost of the occupation too high for the invaders.” Menziwa paused. “If the government is willing, I would recommend also dispersing forces through the cities to force the invaders to confront urban threats and the damage that would inflict upon facilities they want intact. But I have to warn the government that such a course of action would greatly increase the risk of injuries and death among the citizens.”

  The council members listened with grim expressions. “Which option do you think we should follow?” Chisholm asked in the manner of someone knowing she wouldn’t like the answer no matter what it was.

  “Protracted guerrilla warfare, in the countryside and the cities,” Menziwa said as matte
r-of-factly as if proposing a parade.

  Chisholm sighed. “Commander Geary?”

  Rob tried to keep his own report just as professionally calm and detached. “If we are attacked with a force of two destroyers, there is a small but outside chance Saber might be able to repel the attack. If the enemy force includes three warships, which we believe is well within the capability of our opponents, our chances would be effectively zero. Against those kinds of odds we could harass the invaders or die trying to stop them, but we could not prevent an enemy force from bombarding this world and landing an invasion force.”

  “What could you do?” Leigh Camagan asked.

  “Harass them, try to inflict losses as they approach the planet, continue to strike at any available targets as long as fuel permits,” Rob said. “But we’d run low on fuel and face the choices of either surrender, of scuttling the ship to keep it out of enemy hands, or trying to fight our way through to a friendly or neutral star system where we could refuel.”

  “What would you recommend?” Chisholm said in the same reluctant manner.

  “Harass the enemy and wait for an opening. If they did something really stupid, we could exploit that. But we’d eventually have to try fighting our way to another star system after the enemy establishes control of the orbital facility and the cities on this world. I would not consider our chances of making it to another friendly star system to be very high.”

  Odom shook his head. “You both say it’s hopeless, but you both recommend fighting. That’s irrational.”

  “War is irrational, sir,” Colonel Menziwa replied. “I’m charged with defending this world, and I will do that to the best of my ability.”

  Rob’s initial negative opinion of Menziwa improved considerably. “I concur,” he said.

  “Captain Darcy,” Leigh Camagan said, “you’re a strategic thinker as well as a tactician. What is your recommendation?”

  Menziwa spoke sharply. “Council Member, with all due respect, Darcy is not an equal member of this group.”

  “She is the commander of our Marine forces,” Camagan said, her voice mild but somehow still carrying force. “I want her opinion.”

  Rob’s worries that Mele would take that as a chance to speak a little too freely weren’t helped when Mele surreptitiously winked at him. But she kept her words as professionally cool as Rob had.

  “I agree with Commander Geary and Colonel Menziwa,” Mele said. “Scatha and Apulu and their friends know what our situation is. As I discussed with Commander Geary, they want us to surrender everything intact. If they know we’re ready to fight, they’ll wait to see if our resolve crumbles over time as the blockade remains in effect. We want to project an image of ready to defend but wavering on whether to give in. That’s what will give us the most time to come up with better solutions than we now have available.”

  Menziwa looked as if she were tasting something bitter, but nodded. “I concur.”

  “How do we come up with better solutions?” Odom demanded.

  “I can recruit more people into my ground forces,” Menziwa said. “And industrial output can be shifted to produce more equipment and weapons. Given time, I can expand our ground forces and reserve forces to the level that could defeat an invasion outright. We have the means to construct antiorbital weapons, particle beams and missiles, which can defend this planet against any ship that comes close enough.”

  “Those weapons could be bombarded from outside orbit, though,” Leigh Camagan noted. “We need warships in addition to the planetary defenses.”

  “Can we construct more warships?” Kim asked Rob.

  Rob shook his head. “We don’t have sufficient capacity. If we gave over the orbital shipyard to doing nothing else, it would take more than a year to turn out a couple more destroyers. But that kind of activity is easy to spot and keep track of. We’ve seen occasional visits from ships that pop out from a jump point, take a look around, and jump out again hours before we even know they’ve arrived. That sort of thing could easily tell when our ships were close to being ready and hit us then before we could actually use them. That would give the enemy two almost completed new warships.”

  “What can we do?” Chisholm asked.

  “We need external assistance,” Rob said. “Either forces from other star systems to come to our aid or else new units acquired from Old Earth or the Old Colonies. But both of those things require someone with sufficient authority getting through the blockade.”

  A long pause followed his statement, most of the council members looking at the desk as if answers lay scrawled on its surface.

  “All right,” Leigh Camagan finally said. “I’ll go. As long as the council gives me the authority to reach temporary agreements with other star systems, and if necessary to purchase warships declared surplus by Old Earth or the Old Colonies. We still have the freighter Bruce Monroe in orbit. There are vital items we need from outside this star system. We can send the Bruce Monroe supposedly for that purpose, pay the extortionate demands to get through the blockade, and get the help we need.”

  “That’ll be dangerous,” Odom objected. “If you’re identified, I can’t imagine their letting you pass freely.”

  Leigh Camagan shrugged. “We’re already asking many other men and women to risk their lives for Glenlyon.”

  “The council intends continuing to resist the demands on Glenlyon?” Colonel Menziwa asked. “Do I understand that correctly?”

  Council President Chisholm nodded. “Our ancestors fought many a battle against terrible odds, Colonel. I suppose we haven’t learned much. We’ll do the same.”

  “Our ancestors lost a lot of those battles,” Odom pointed out.

  “They were still worth fighting. We won’t give up our freedom out of fear.” Chisholm looked around the room again. “We’re in agreement, then? Is there anything else?”

  Rob nodded. “The Bruce Monroe brought back survivors from the Claymore. About half the crew, many of them injured. Their status has sort of been in limbo. I would like the council’s assurance that all of those men and women are still under contract as part of the fleet’s forces, and that the costs of their medical treatment will be covered. If we’re going to get more ships, we’re going to need good people to crew them. If we set a good example of looking out for our people with the survivors of the Claymore, it will establish an important precedent.”

  Kim frowned. “I regret having to bring this up, but all reports say that the Claymore was quickly destroyed without inflicting any damage on its attackers. Are those survivors really the sort of people we want crewing other ships?”

  Rob made an effort to control his temper before replying. “The loss of Claymore was due to a senior leadership failure. There is no evidence that any of the crew failed in any aspect of their duties. Give them good leaders and they’ll fight well to avenge the loss of their friends and shipmates and to defend this star system.”

  Menziwa shot Rob a sidelong glance as he waited for the council’s reply. He wondered how the colonel felt about his clearly blaming Claymore’s loss on a failure by the senior leaders.

  “I move we approve Commander Geary’s proposal regarding the survivors of Claymore,” Leigh Camagan said.

  No one objected, leaving Chisholm free to declare the meeting over.

  As Menziwa stood to leave, she walked closer to Geary, eyeing him. “I wasn’t aware that the official investigation on the loss of Claymore had been completed,” she said in a low voice. “You might want to be careful about too quickly assigning blame.”

  Rob nodded, but his words didn’t reflect agreement. “I appreciate your concern. Both the Commodore and the Captain of the Claymore were probably once good officers, but they’d been subjected for too long to a training and evaluation system that robbed them of the ability to think and act when they needed to. I’m going to change that system.”

&nbs
p; “Are you? Take it all apart, discard tradition and the lessons of the past? You might want to be careful, Commander, when you start ripping out parts of a structure. Things you consider useless might turn out to be load-bearing walls, leading the ceiling to fall in and the floor to collapse, leaving you nothing to stand on.” Menziwa nodded to him once in farewell before turning and walking over to speak with Council President Chisholm.

  “I have to give her credit,” Mele commented. “That was a pretty cool metaphor.”

  “Do you agree with the colonel?” Rob asked.

  “Oh, hell, no. This is the way it’s always been done is the stupidest reason possible for doing things a certain way.” Mele stopped speaking as Leigh Camagan joined them.

  “Thank you,” Camagan said to them both. “Rob, I’m going to need some false travel identification documents so good that nothing and no one can see through them. Do you think Ninja would assist with that? Or is she still extremely angry with me?”

  “Ninja wasn’t that angry with you,” Rob protested.

  “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that my door access codes have been changing randomly for the last few days,” Leigh Camagan said dryly. “No one can identify the problem.”

  “I’ll talk to Ninja.”

  “Council Member?” Mele said. “Do I need the council’s approval for the name of the Marine barracks?”

  “There’s a Marine barracks?” Leigh Camagan asked.

  “That’s what I’m calling the area in the orbital facility leased for my people’s accommodations,” Mele explained. “I want to call it Duncan Barracks after Sergeant Grant Duncan.”