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

by Christopher Nuttall

  “First, we will have a chance to cripple both their mobile forces and their industrial base,” Colonel Stalker said. “Second, we will ... encourage dissatisfied members of her regime to overthrow her. The prospect of watching their planet being overrun may push them into joining the winning side.”

  “Assuming we are the winning side,” Van Houlton muttered.

  Colonel Stalker ignored him. “And third, we will knock enemy morale back down,” he concluded. “We cannot let them regain their balance and retake the offensive.”

  Van Houlton cleared his throat. “Colonel, I understand the logic,” he said. “But we will be taking an immense risk.”

  “As you have said,” Colonel Stalker said.

  “But perhaps not enough,” Van Houlton insisted. “Colonel, we would be operating on a logistics shoestring, nearly a month from the closest fleet base and two months from Avalon itself. We would certainly be out of touch with home for quite some time. Admiral Singh might have launched her own offensive towards Avalon ...”

  His voice trailed off. “I understand your concerns,” Colonel Stalker said. “I believe, however, that we have no choice.”

  He paused. His voice hardened. “This isn't a council of war,” he added, coolly. Mandy felt a shiver running down her spine. It was easy to forget, at times, that Colonel Stalker’s affable nature hid a very dangerous man. “The decision is mine, mine alone. And I have decided that we will throw the dice one final time.”

  Mandy swallowed, hard. She took a moment to compose herself before speaking.

  “I believe we can depart within the day, sir,” she said. “We’d just need to update the repair schedule and transfer spare parts and crews.”

  “See to it,” Colonel Stalker said. “We’ll drop out of phase space at some point close to Wolfbane, just long enough to catch up on repairs.”

  Van Houlton looked pale, but determined. “Colonel ... are you going to send word back to Avalon?”

  “We are already dispatching a handful of ships back home,” Colonel Stalker said. “One of them will take a message to the council.”

  “Yes, sir,” Van Houlton said. He paused. “Shouldn't we also be trying to determine how Admiral Singh knew we were coming?”

  “That’s a problem for another time,” Colonel Stalker said. “For the moment” - he nodded to Mandy - “we have a departure to plan.”

  Mandy nodded back. “Yes, sir.”

  ***

  Ed had never liked the idea of inactivity, even as a young man. He’d always craved something to do, something to keep himself occupied. Boot Camp had built on that, if only because there was always something to do on base or out in the field. The thought of taking the offensive felt good, although he knew the risks. If anything, Commodore Van Houlton had understated them. Ed wasn't gambling with a platoon or even the entire company. He was gambling with the entire Commonwealth.

  But there’s no choice, he reminded himself, again. He’d talked it through with Gwendolyn, making sure his own need to do something wasn't driving his thoughts. We have to retake the initiative somehow.

  He listened, politely, as Mandy outlined the repair schedule for the remaining naval squadrons. She’d done a good job of reorganising the ships, then pushing the tactical staff to come up with countermeasures for the enemy’s new weapons. It was almost a shame that he had to read her the riot act ... he knew, deep inside, that he should have done it earlier. But he’d chosen to stay his hand. It had been a mistake.

  “We’ll depart in seven hours,” Mandy finished. “Dismissed.”

  She leaned back in her chair, looking tired. Ed studied her, noting the signs of physical and mental tiredness. He didn't blame her, not really. Mandy hadn’t really started to grow up until she’d been exiled to Avalon. It was odd to realise that their birthplaces hadn't been that far apart. But Mandy had been one of the lucky ones. She’d been born in what might as well be a very different world.

  “You did well,” he said, softly. “Not everyone copes so well with defeat.”

  Mandy didn't look at him. “You’ve never been defeated in your life.”

  “I had my ass kicked more times than I care to think about at Boot Camp,” Ed said. It was true. The Drill Instructors had worked hard to make sure the recruits made mistakes and learned from them. “Things go wrong, regularly. It’s how you cope with them that matters.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mandy said.

  Ed cleared his throat. “You’ll be handing command of Defiant to Commander Cobb,” he said, flatly. “And commanding the fleet from the CIC.”

  Mandy turned her head to look at him. Her voice was flat, as if she was too tired to feel anything. “Defiant is my ship, sir.”

  “You cannot command a starship and the entire fleet,” Ed said. “It worked - barely - for squadron command. It cannot work for a larger fleet.”

  He sighed, inwardly. Avalon’s manpower shortage was a serious problem. Mandy, who’d grown up in a decidedly non-military family, was still one of the most experienced naval officers at his disposal. They were rushing people up the ranks, forcing them to hold down two or more jobs ... it was a policy, he knew, that would eventually lead to disaster. Perhaps it had led to disaster. Mandy had been torn between two competing sets of responsibilities.

  “I understand, sir,” Mandy said.

  She sounded hurt. Ed wasn't really surprised. Mandy had never gone to the Naval Academy, never worked her way up the ranks. She’d be lucky to be a lieutenant if she’d joined the Imperial Navy and followed a traditional career path. Her youth - and lack of family connections - told against her. Avalon had been the making of her ...

  But she didn't get some of the training she needed, Ed thought. She never learnt to respect her own limits.

  He shook his head, mentally. Ideally, Mandy would have been given a year or two of shore leave and therapy after being taken prisoner by pirates. She’d been surprisingly well-treated, but she’d still been a prisoner, still forced to assist the pirates ... hell, she might have been shot if she’d been rescued by the Imperial Navy. Instead, he’d had no choice, but to put her back in the navy. He was just too short of experienced officers.

  “You will have a chance to take command again afterwards, if you wish,” Ed said. “It will mean a demotion ...”

  “I accept,” Mandy said. She gave him the ghost of a smile. “I don’t care about the demotion.”

  Ed nodded. A demotion from flag rank would have meant the end of her career, in the Imperial Navy. For Avalon ... there was something to be said for putting commodores and admirals back in their command chairs on a regular basis. Why not? It had worked for the Marine Corps. The Corps had worked hard to ensure that its senior officers never lost their touch.

  “I’ll inform Commander Cobb after we depart,” she added. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “It will do,” Ed said. Mandy and her XO would have three weeks to get used to the new arrangement. It wasn't going to be easy. Normally, a new commander or flag officer would be assigned to a whole new unit. But that wasn't an option now. “I’ll promote him personally, if you like.”

  Mandy smiled, tiredly. “I’m sure he’ll like it.”

  Ed nodded. “Very good,” he said. “Go get some sleep.”

  “You keep telling me to get some sleep,” Mandy said. She rose. “Is that a tradition in the Marine Corps?”

  “Yep,” Ed said. He smirked. “Sleep, sleep and sleep again, for tomorrow you might be in the middle of a forty-eight hour firefight.”

  Mandy giggled. “Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may catch some disgusting skin disease?”

  Ed snorted. “Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow the sergeants will smell alcohol on your breath and shout extra loud just to ram the point home.”

  He sighed. Joker had said that, hadn't he? He wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to his old friend. Joker had transferred to a different company after OCS and headed off to bang heads together on a planet with
an unpronounceable name. And then he’d vanished when Avalon had lost touch with the Empire. God alone knew what had happened to him.

  Mandy saluted and left the compartment. Ed watched her go, remembering the teenage brat he’d met on Earth. Mandy had been pretty enough, he recalled, pretty enough to attract attention from some of the younger marines ... but he doubted she’d ever had an original thought in her head. She’d been spoilt rotten by her mother, utterly unprepared for her family's sudden change in fortune. Ed had doubted Mandy would survive on Avalon. He’d rarely been so glad to be wrong. The teenage brat had grown into a fine young woman.

  Who’s on the edge, just like the rest of us, he thought.

  He looked back at the starchart, silently contemplating the problem. Admiral Singh could not be allowed to retake the offensive. And that meant knocking her off-balance, as hard as possible. Devastating Wolfbane was the key to winning the war, either by crippling her ability to rebuild her forces or convincing her former partners to take her out and sue for peace. But it wasn't going to be easy.

  The responsibility is mine, he told himself. And we have to move fast.

  He sighed. The Commonwealth was starting to crack under the strains of war. It had never really been designed for war, certainly not a long conflict. Gaby had warned him that there was a peace party, one composed of men and women who believed the Commonwealth needed to sue for peace before it cracked asunder. Once she left office - or earlier, if Douglas demanded her attention - there would be an election. God alone knew who would win.

  It was ironic, he admitted, in the privacy of his own mind. He’d learned to despise politicians during his career, but the politicians on Avalon were actually respectable. They weren’t professional politicians. They’d fought in wars, helped to rebuild their planets ... they knew the hard truths that the Grand Senate had forgotten long ago. And yet, they also knew that the war was slowly tearing the Commonwealth apart. They sought peace because it was better than war.

  Peace is not freedom, he reminded himself. And they know it too.

  He tapped the console, deactivating the starchart. They would roll the dice one final time before the end. And if they were lucky ...

  And if we’re not lucky, he thought, at least we’ll make sure they know they’ve been in a fight.

  ***

  “We have entered phase space, Captain,” the helmsman said. “We’re on our way.”

  “Very good,” Mandy said. She looked around the bridge, silently memorising every detail. It wouldn't be hers, the next time she set foot on it. “Commander Cobb. Please will you join me in my office?”

  She glanced at the tactical officer. “Mr. Graves, you have the bridge.”

  Her office wouldn't be hers any more either, she recalled, as she stepped through the hatch and into the small compartment. Thankfully, she’d never bothered to decorate. The photograph of her family on the desk was the only real personal touch. Clearing the room wouldn't take more than a few minutes.

  “Commander,” she said, sitting down on the chair. Commander Cobb took the sofa. “I ...”

  Mandy paused, feeling awkward. She honestly wasn’t sure how to proceed.

  She cleared her throat. “Commander, I ... you will assume command of Defiant from 2200 tonight,” she said. “Colonel Stalker will pin the badge on you. And then ... the ship will be yours from that moment on.”

  “I ... thank you,” Cobb managed. He sounded as if he was trying, very hard, to hide his delight. Starship command was everyone’s dream. And yet, he was taking it from her. He had to wonder if Mandy had been ordered to surrender command to him. “Captain, I ...”

  “You’re a good man,” Mandy said. She forced her voice to stay level. It wasn't his fault. “I am sure you’ll make me proud.”

  “Thank you,” Cobb said.

  Mandy reached into her pocket and removed a single silver star. “This was taken from Sword, after she was disabled,” she said. It had belonged to an Imperial Navy officer, once upon a time. She didn't want to think about how the pirates had acquired it. “Colonel Stalker insisted I should keep it.”

  She held it out to him. “I’d appreciate it if you wore it,” she added. “It would mean a great deal to me.”

  Cobb took it. “It would be my honour.”

  Mandy nodded. She told herself, firmly, that she had to be happy for him. Cobb deserved a promotion ...

  And he can concentrate on the ship, she told herself, firmly. That’s all that matters right now.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “You might be working out here,” Captain Cleveland said. “What do you think?”

  Jasmine shrugged as she studied the display. Captain Cleveland had been flirting with her during the voyage, testing her patience more than she cared to admit. His collection of chat-up lines were so bad that she was honestly surprised someone hadn't sewn his mouth together long ago. He was hardly the first freighter captain she’d met who’d had an inflated view of himself, but he was in a class of his own.

  And to think the six of us are supposed to be married, she thought. Aren’t freighter captains meant to honour marital vows?

  “It’s a very active system,” she said, dryly. “I’m sure the six of us will find jobs here.”

  She kept her real concern to herself as Lagos made its stately way towards Wolfbane. The last time she’d visited the system, she’d destroyed an entire shipyard ... but, if anything, the level of interplanetary operations seemed to have doubled. The sensors on the freighter were hardly mil-grade, yet they were still good enough to pick out hundreds of mining camps scattered across the system. Wolfbane itself was ringed by dozens of industrial nodes, all humming away placidly. She doubted it was as efficient as Avalon - large corporations were rarely interested in finding newer and better ways to do things - but it was still alarming.

  And there are fewer warships in orbit than I expected, she thought. That might not be a good sign.

  Captain Cleveland cleared his throat. “You’re sure you don’t want to stay with me?”

  Jasmine shook her head, hiding her amusement. Captain Cleveland thought he was doing her a favour - and, if she’d been a genuine engineer looking for work, he would have been. Sure, she was supposed to be married, but there were ways to cope with that. Poly-marriages rose and fell all the time as newcomers entered and older folks left. But it didn't matter. Getting down to the surface was more important than anything else.

  “Very well,” Captain Cleveland said. He sighed, dramatically. “Grab your bags, then assemble at the primary airlock in thirty minutes. We won’t be docking for long.”

  “Understood,” Jasmine said.

  She walked through the hatch and down to the cabins. They’d been given the best quarters on the ship, which wasn't saying much. The cabins were tiny, barely large enough to hold a couple of bunk beds apiece. Jasmine found it hard to care. The floor was clean, the bedding was fresh and the toilet didn’t smell. She’d slept in worse places.

  “Get packing,” she called, as she passed Stewart’s room. “We’re being kicked off in thirty minutes.”

  She stepped into her cabin. Meade was sitting on her bed, reading her datapad. Her carryall was positioned next to her, looking suspiciously clean. Jasmine hoped that wouldn't attract too much attention from the security officers, when they passed through the checkpoint. It was uncommon for spacers to lug new bags around for long. They always got dirty.

  “I’ve had a job offer,” Meade said. She grinned. “The engineer wanted me to stay.”

  “I’m sure he wanted more than just your skills,” Jasmine said, dryly. They had to be careful what they said on the freighter. She’d checked the compartment for bugs, of course, but she was all too aware that they might have missed something. “What did you say?”

  “I could hardly desert my family,” Meade said, in mock offence. “And they can't take us all on.”

  Jasmine nodded as she picked up her carryall. She’d been careful not to carry anythi
ng that might arouse suspicions, but she checked it again just to be sure. The Wolves had already had an infiltrator make his way to the surface and assassinate Governor Brown. They’d be very careful not to let that happen again.

  And they’re going to be out of luck, she thought. A dull rattle ran through the ship as it powered into orbit. They won’t see us at all.

  She licked her lips. In theory, passing through security shouldn't be a problem; in practice, she was painfully aware of just how much could go wrong. And while they weren't entirely unarmed, she knew their chances of fighting their way out were precisely zero. Security checkpoints were bottlenecks, places designed to keep even the most heavily-armed intruders trapped until they could be captured or killed. Even marines wouldn't be able to escape.

  Unless they really screw up, she thought. And that’s not likely to happen.