09- We Lead
Page 44
“Measures are underway,” the First Space Lord said.
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “HMS Lightning and HMS Uncanny are being posted to the Jorlem Sector,” he informed her. “Our regular patrols through the sector have been withdrawn with the advent of war, so the normal trade routes have become increasingly lawless. Intelligence believes that pirate and smuggler consortiums have relocated themselves after pickings in our territory became rather slim.”
“Or the Theocracy may be trying to put pressure on the locals,” Kat offered.
“It’s a possibility,” the king agreed.
Kat scowled as she contemplated the situation. Theocratic forces hadn't hesitated to sponsor pirate activity within Commonwealth space, hoping to weaken their targets before the war actually began. There was no reason they couldn't do the same in the Jorlem Sector, with an additional nasty little twist. If the Jorlem Sector joined the Theocracy, those raiders could be sent elsewhere . . . but if the Jorlem Sector joined the Commonwealth instead, the Navy would have to divert patrols to protect the sector, putting yet another demand on the Navy’s very limited time and resources—just the sort of scheme that would appeal to the Theocrats. Whatever happened, whatever the sector’s governments did, the Theocracy would come out ahead.
“Ideally, you’ll be doing nothing more than showing the flag and assisting the locals in hunting down pirates and other threats,” the First Space Lord told her. “Six months of patrolling should do wonders for our reputation. If you can forge a set of alliances, we’d be delighted . . . but we’re not expecting it. Right now, it’s more reasonable to simply foster warm relations in the sector; we can worry about convincing them to apply for membership later.”
“Because we can’t defend them now,” Kat said.
“Yes,” the king said. “In the long term, yes; we’d like them to join. But for the moment, we’d prefer to keep them at a distance.”
“You’ll be given specific orders in the next couple of days,” the First Space Lord added. “Do you have any questions for the moment?”
“Yes, sir,” Kat said. “Why me? Why us?”
The king smiled. “There are several reasons,” he said. “First, you have a growing reputation for military skill—you saved an entire fleet at First Cadiz, practically won Second Cadiz singlehandedly . . . and then raided deep into enemy space, throwing them back onto the defensive.”
“Admiral Christian might have a few things to say about that, sire,” Kat said. “I didn't win the battle singlehandedly.”
“No, but that’s what the media is saying,” the king said. “Are you suggesting that . . . that they’re fibbing? I am shocked!”
He went on before Kat could come up with an answer. “The point is that you are a military hero, a genuine military hero, and you have very close links to the aristocracy. Sending you to the Jorlem Sector is an excellent way of showing how important we consider the sector to be. You talking to their rulers on equal terms is a sign of respect. And you can talk to their militaries, discussing the exact nature of the enemy threat and how it can be defeated. Your reputation will precede you.”
The media will make sure of it, Kat thought darkly. She loathed the media.
“Your former XO, your fellow captain, is also an advertisement for social advancement within the Commonwealth, even though he wasn't born on Tyre,” the king added. “He was knighted six months ago, which makes him a de facto member of the aristocracy, and he was given his own command. A heavy cruiser to boot. He’s living proof that noncitizens can and do advance within the system.”
“Of course, sire,” Kat said. “The fact that it was a struggle to get him promoted, after years of loyal service, is neither here nor there. The fact that Unlucky is on the verge of falling apart . . .”
“Of course not,” the king interrupted. He shot her an annoyed look. “We are trying to fight a war, Captain, while trying to patch over the holes in the Commonwealth’s structure. It needs to be handled carefully.”
“It does,” Kat agreed. “And what do we do if we encounter a predatory merchant?”
“Whatever you see fit,” the king said.
Kat resisted the urge to rub her eyes. There was no escaping the simple fact that a number of Tyre’s merchants had established trade links that effectively exploited stars and planets outside the Commonwealth. Their behavior was technically illegal, but it was difficult to prosecute them when they also tended to have allies in high places. The kingdom’s determination to protect its people, even at the risk of war, didn't help. There was no way she could stand back and watch as a crowd threatened to lynch a Commonwealth citizen, but she didn't want to risk her ship and crew to save someone who only deserved a quick trial and a one-way ticket to a penal world.
“I want carte blanche,” she said flatly.
“Already in your orders,” the king said. Kat had the uneasy feeling that someone had anticipated her demand. “We’re at war. The normal rules don’t apply.”
And they just dumped a hot potato in my lap, Kat thought. She was starting to suspect that there were other reasons for her appointment. No one could say she didn't have ties to the merchant sector, not when her father ran, or had run, one of the largest corporations in the sector. But which way am I expected to jump?
“Thank you,” she said. She’d consider the problem later. “When do you want us to depart?”
“Ideally, a week from today,” the First Space Lord said. “But organizing a convoy to Vangelis may take longer. Spacers . . . are none too happy about the convoy requirements.”
“They wouldn't be,” Kat said. She’d never served on a merchant freighter, but thanks to her family, she understood the logistical problems facing civilian skippers better than most military officers. “If they miss their due dates, they face fines . . . perhaps even the loss of their ships.”
“We’ve introduced emergency legislation to tackle the problem,” the king said. “But it’s stalled in the House of Lords. Too many people are suspicious of how it can be misused.”
Kat sighed. “Is there any evidence it will be misused?”
“Of course not,” the king said. “But who needs evidence when there are political points to score?”
“Touché,” Kat said.
She shook her head. In all fairness, she could see both sides of the debate. A merchant skipper in danger of losing his ship would run terrifying risks, if necessary, to make his scheduled deadlines. Even with stasis fields, certain cargos were all too perishable; they might arrive too late for anyone to want to buy them, but introducing legislation to override contractual requirements would open up a whole new can of worms. Either deadlines would no longer matter, in which case the merchant skippers could and would cheat at will, or each and every case would have to be decided individually, tying up the courts for years. It would be a political nightmare.
But a collapse of interstellar trade would be a nightmare too, she thought.
“You’ll receive your formal orders soon,” the First Space Lord said. “Good luck with your new XO.”
Kat had to fight a frown. She’d requested that her former tactical officer be promoted, but she’d heard nothing. Somehow, she suspected that the bureaucracy had found a reason to turn down her request. And that meant her new XO would be transferred from another ship . . .
“Thank you, sir,” Kat said. She had no trouble recognizing a dismissal. “I won’t let you down.”
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