Wolf's Bane (The Empire's Corps Book 14)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “No,” she said. “We’re going to ambush them.”

  She closed her eyes for a long moment. She needed a victory, a decisive victory. Smashing the enemy fleet would give her that. And it would convince her enemies on Wolfbane to back off, just long enough to let her win the war. The only real danger lay in leaving Wolfbane herself. Did she dare leave the corporations unsupervised?

  And if I don’t go, she thought, I might wind up with a second Christopher Brookes.

  She scowled at the thought. The truth - that Brookes had been executed - had been buried, but he already had a growing personality cult and fan club. A handsome young war hero ... how could he not be popular? It was sheer luck that the media had accepted the story about him being promoted without demur. There were limits to how badly she could strong-arm them without the reporters suspecting that something was wrong.

  No, that’s not the worst that could happen, she told herself. The worst is that whoever I put in command of the fleet comes back intent on unseating me.

  She felt her scowl deepen as her head started to pound. She wasn't blind to the problems caused by the political commissioners, even though she needed them. Most of her commanding officers were too busy looking over their shoulders to pose a threat to her - Christopher Brookes had been an exception, damn him. Sending a fleet out supervised by the commissioners was asking for trouble. No, she had to take command personally.

  “Paula, inform fleet command that I want to detach four battle squadrons and flanking elements for immediate redeployment,” she ordered, curtly. Assuming the enemy took a least-time course to Titlark - the only wise assumption - she should get there a day or two before them. “And make sure they’re armed with the latest weapons. I want full missile loads and supplies.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Paula said.

  “And order them to conceal as much as possible,” Rani added. “I don't want any spies here getting a whisper of our true intentions.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Paula said, again.

  Rani took a long breath. “I’ll be taking command personally,” she added. “You and my inner circle will remain here, supervising matters.”

  Paula looked pale, but she nodded. There wasn’t any choice. She was a bureaucrat, not a fleet commander. And besides, she was strikingly unpopular. She couldn’t undermine Rani without risking her own life. The same could be said for many of her other officers. Their careers - and lives - depended on her.

  And if the corporations do decide to get uppity, she thought coldly, I’ll have enough firepower with me to make them regret it.

  She smiled at the thought. Plastering Wolfbane with KEWs would feel good, although she knew it would practically guarantee a Commonwealth victory. But a civil war would also guarantee a Commonwealth victory. If the corporations decided to stab her in the back, she resolved, she’d make them pay. It would cost her everything, but she’d make them pay.

  “I’ll discuss the matter with the directors later today,” she said. “Until then ...”

  She looked at Emma. “I want a full breakdown of conventional enemy forces,” she ordered. “Don’t assume they’re sending a single squadron. Assume the worst - that they’re making a serious attempt to take Titlark. And then start making plans to deny the base’s facilities to the enemy if we lose the engagement.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Emma said. “I’ll get right on it.”

  “And have your staff analyse everything we got from our agents,” Rani added. “See if there are any oddities about the reports.”

  If they all say the same thing, her thoughts reminded her, someone is definitely trying to set us up.

  She smiled, coldly. Rumours had a habit of growing and mutating as they passed from mouth to mouth. The sources might all agree on the same general points, but the details would be different ... if everything matched, someone was spreading false rumours and lies deliberately. And that meant they were trying to mislead people ...

  Paula cleared her throat. “Admiral,” she said nervously, “what if you’re wrong?”

  Rani was in too good a mood to snap at her. “Thule is not a particularly important target,” she said. She’d have to make sure the occupation forces CO received secret orders, just in case. “If they really are planning to attack Thule, it will cause us some embarrassment and little else. We’ll order the occupation forces to retreat if they see a powerful enemy fleet bearing down on them.”

  “There will be no time to evacuate the people on the ground,” Emma pointed out.

  “They can fight to the last,” Rani said. She’d pulled the best infantry units out long ago. The ones she’d left behind were untrustworthy. They would probably have defected if the enemy hadn't made it clear that anyone who fell into their hands would be killed and their bodies mutilated. “The starships are more important.”

  She shrugged, feeling chipper. “I’ll depart tomorrow afternoon,” she said. “By then, we’ll have taken steps to secure our position here.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Paula said.

  Rani raised her voice. “Dismissed.”

  She leaned back in her chair as her officers retreated, leaving her alone. Perhaps, she considered, she hadn't been entirely honest with herself. She did need to be there - she was the only one she could trust to command the fleet - but it was more than that, wasn't it? It was a chance to get out of the fortress and get to grips with the enemy. The prospect of death in battle was less terrifying, somehow, than remaining on Wolfbane, growing more and more isolated every day.

  If I win, I’ll have a chance to come out ahead, she thought, coolly. She’d be gone for a month, at least. It shouldn't be long enough for her enemies to put together a coup. And if I lose, it won’t matter anymore ... will it?

  It was a bitter thought. She’d sacrificed hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lives, just to stay in charge. She didn't know the names or faces of the men and women, the boys and girls, she’d ordered killed. They haunted her dreams, mocking her. Some of them had deserved it, perhaps, but others had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And some of them - like Christopher Brookes - had expected to be rewarded. They hadn't realised that she couldn't let them live.

  And yet, she couldn't stop. She was still riding a tiger, she was still unable to get off without being killed ... she had to go on. Part of her even hoped for a clean death, somewhere in the inky darkness of space. It was better than she’d given any of her enemies, really. Her lips twitched at the thought. Death would be the end.

  But what do you get, her own thoughts mocked her, if you stay alive?

  Rani sighed. She had no answer.

  Rising, she banished the depression and strode over to the window, peering over the brightly-lit city. She had to win. Whatever happened, she had to win.

  And she couldn't allow herself to care, any longer, about how she won.

  ***

  Nadia sat in her cell, her naked body shaking helplessly.

  She’d lost all track of time, since she’d been thrust into the tiny room. She had no idea how long she’d been in the cell, how long it had been since she’d been arrested. It felt like months, perhaps years ... her life had shrunk, rapidly, to the cell’s four walls. The beatings, the rapes ... she’d thought, at first, that the policemen were trying to break her, but it had rapidly become clear that they were merely having fun. She didn't know how long she could endure, not really.

  But we were just talking, she thought. We didn't do anything! We didn't do anything!

  She looked up, bleakly, as she heard the cell door rattling. The police didn't bother to take any precautions with her - why should they? She'd tried to fight, the first few times, but they’d just beaten her bloody and raped her anyway. She twisted, hoping that if she submitted it wouldn't be so bad. Some of the policemen seemed to like hurting her, but others just wanted to spend themselves. How far had she fallen, she asked herself bitterly, when she was glad for a gentle rapist?

  Two policemen stepped into the cell. One he
ld a pistol in his hand. “On your feet,” he growled. “Now!”

  Nadia felt a flicker of hope, mixed with dull horror and resignation. Her life was over. It would be over even if they marched her to the door and kicked her out onto the streets. Her family wouldn't want to take her back, the college certainly wouldn't want to take her back ... what could she do? She forced herself to stand, despite her aching body. She’d ache much more if she gave them an excuse for yet another beating.

  The policemen eyed her as though she was just a piece of meat. She shuddered, dully, at the coldness in their eyes. She’d known men looked at her since she’d matured - and she’d enjoyed and hated it in equal measure - but this was different. To them, she was just an object ... not a woman. She wasn't even human, as far as they were concerned. She was ...

  “Turn around,” the policeman said. His eyes never left hers. “Kneel.”

  Nadia did as she was told, struggling not to collapse as she knelt down. They probably wanted to cuff her ... or something. She found it hard to care. Her thoughts were fragmented, drowned out by the growing pains in her arms and legs. Nothing was broken, as far as she could tell, but she was sore.

  “You have been found guilty of subversion,” the policeman said. She felt something cold and hard pressed against the back of her neck. A gun, she realised numbly. They hadn't come to cuff her or rape her. They’d come to kill her. “The sentence is death.”

  It was almost a relief, Nadia thought. She closed her eyes as she felt the trigger slowly being pulled. At least there would be no more pain ...

  Chapter Seventeen

  From nearly five light years away, Mandy knew, there was little to separate Titlark from any of the other stars glowing against the inky blackness of interstellar space. The star was just a pinpoint of light ... in truth, she wouldn't even have known she was looking at the right star if her computers hadn't identified it for her. Her task force could have been thousands of light-years out of place for all she knew.

  “All ships have returned to realspace,” Commander Darren Cobb reported. They stood on the bridge, looking at the display. “They’re signalling for orders.”

  “Tell them to prepare to move,” Mandy ordered. Four weeks in transit had worn down her crews, even though her officers had worked hard to vary their duties. “We’ll be sending Sneaky into the system shortly.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Cobb said. “Do you still mean to accompany her?”

  Mandy nodded. Captain Karin Hughes wouldn't be too pleased to have her superior officer on her bridge - Mandy wouldn't have been pleased, if the roles had been reversed - but she’d do as she was told. Mandy wouldn't be an awkward guest either, she promised herself. She wouldn't allow any confusion over who was in command. Besides, the Commonwealth Navy would back Captain Hughes if push came to shove.

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” she said. “And if I don’t come back, Colonel Stalker and Commodore Mountbatten can decide what to do next.”

  “You’ll be back soon enough, I am sure,” Cobb said. He grinned. “Do you want the corridors swept or the bulkheads repainted while you’re gone?”

  Mandy smiled. “Give the crew a few hours to relax,” she said. This far from Titlark, there was almost no chance of being detected, let alone ambushed. The Wolves would have to get impossibly lucky to discover the task force, let alone organise an attack before she took her ships to Titlark. It was the sort of thing that only happened in bad flicks. “And make sure the tactical staff run the final set of simulations.”

  She glanced at the timer, feeling cold. It was impossible to be sure, of course, but the Wolves should have picked up the rumours about Thule by now. Assuming the timing worked out, they should have dispatched reinforcements to the system - and Titlark, their closest major fleet base, was the only place they could have been dispatched from. But she knew, all too well, that interstellar warfare rarely rewarded anyone for trying to be clever. It was quite possible that the Wolves had never picked up on the deception, let alone decided to act on it.

  Or they might have decided that it was too late to reinforce Thule, she thought, grimly. Or that the planet isn't worth holding.

  She shrugged, dismissing the thought. There was no point in brooding over the possibilities, not when there was too much work to do. She had five battle squadrons and their flankers under her command, enough firepower to blast her way through Titlark’s defences and capture the planet. And, if she did run into something she couldn't handle, she should be able to alter course and break contact before it was too late. She wouldn't allow herself to be trapped.

  Space combat can be intensely frustrating when the two sides are well-matched, she thought, ruefully. The pirates had always made a point of not picking on someone bigger than them, but the Commonwealth didn't have that option. And if we are beaten off, we may not be able to continue the offensive.

  She glanced at Cobb. “Make sure that all of our maintenance schedules are up-to-date, then load missile racks,” she ordered. “We’ll move as soon as I return.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Cobb said. “We’ll be ready.”

  Mandy nodded, although the tension refused to fade. She always felt nervous before a battle, always felt as though something was going to go wrong. Perhaps it was just another legacy from her time on the pirate ship, where failure had been harshly punished ... the Commonwealth Navy, at least, didn't shoot officers for failure. But someone would have to be the scapegoat if the operation went badly wrong. Mandy wasn't blind to just how much political capital had been spent on the operation, quite apart from the material aspects. A complete failure could bring down the government.

  “Inform Colonel Stalker that I will be departing within the hour,” Mandy said. “And ask if he wishes to accompany me.”

  She leaned forward, studying the live feed from the other ships. She felt almost as though she was deserting her command, even though she knew she wasn't. Cobb could handle the bridge. He was practically a commanding officer in his own right. She'd have just long enough to make sure there weren't any fleet issues that required her attention before departing. The other commanding officers could probably deal with most issues on their own, but she wanted to be sure. They didn't have time for a major dispute on the brink of a full-scale engagement.

  And I really should move to the CIC, she thought, numbly.

  It wasn't something she wanted to do. She didn't want to give up command of a starship, even though she was balancing those duties with fleet command. And yet, as the fleets grew larger and the stakes rose higher, she knew she couldn't continue to balance the duties indefinitely. She’d either have to surrender command or accept a demotion.

  We do have more commanding officers now, she told herself. The training programs were nowhere near as comprehensive as the Imperial Navy’s academy - the old sweats insisted that this was a good thing - but they were churning out new officers and crewmen. Hell, she’d worked hard to make sure that crewmen could rise to the ranks, if they wished to become mustangs. I don’t have to hold two hats.

  She shook her head. She’d have to make her decision soon, after the battle. And then ...

  “Colonel Stalker has declined your offer,” Cobb reported. “He’s wished you luck.”

  Mandy nodded. “You have the bridge,” she said. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

  ***

  It was easy, Ed had discovered long ago, to get bored in transit. Troopships - even the giant MEUs the Marine Corps had once deployed - weren't really designed to keep the troops entertained, not when every last square inch was either accommodation or storage. He’d made sure to keep the troops busy, running through combat drills or brushing up on background knowledge, but he knew it hadn't been enough. The handful of fights - and offenders who’d received NJP instead of being dragged in front of their ultimate CO - bore mute testament to that.

  He sat in the observation blister, staring out at the stars. Jasmine and her team should be on their way to Wolfbane by no
w, assuming that they’d managed to get passage on a freighter from Calomel. He was sure she’d succeeded, but ... he had no way to know if she actually had succeeded. There was no way to know if she was on her way or if she was stuck on Calomel ... or if she’d been discovered in transit and killed. He wanted an update, but he knew he wouldn't get one. Jasmine was on her own.

  Not quite on her own, he reminded herself. She does have five others with her.

  He snorted as he scanned the unblinking stars. He’d always hated micromanagers. He’d always hated their demands for constant updates and their hectoring and their conviction that they knew better than the man on the ground, but now ... now he thought he understood them a little better. It wasn't easy to send someone countless light years away, then sit back and wait for an update. Jasmine was completely isolated, completely cut off from him ... she was outside his control. He trusted her - certainly more than any of the micromanagers had ever trusted him - but he still wanted to know what was going on.