“Can't we just take over their ships through flag overrides?” Turner asked.
“My suspicion is Kosar has ship-based forces that do not contain flag overrides and respond to her personal command alone,” Dawson said.
“Why do you think that?' Turner asked.
“Because it's what I would do in her place. Because there are huge funds missing on Galactic Mail's books. Because Jan Childers and her staff noted it as a possibility. All of the above,” Dawson said.
“I didn't notice the missing funds,” Enfield said.
“Don't forget I'm an accountant.”
Micheli's eyebrows went up at that.
“Actually, I think Pat's right,” Micheli said. “It would be just the sort of thing Padma Kosar would do. When she realizes something is going on out here, she's likely to send battle squadrons our way.”
“Kosar already knows something is going on out here,” Dawson said.
“How?” Enfield asked.
“Because Sitko and every other Security commander reports to Doma every day, and he didn't send a report yesterday afternoon.”
“Should we send fake reports? Keep them in the dark?” Enfield asked.
“I don't think so,” Dawson said. “First thing is, it's the weekend, and no reports are expected Saturday and Sunday anyway. Second is, sooner or later, we're going to have a showdown with Kosar's forces. Having that showdown before we take out Security in the other divisions is probably better, because our attacks on Security then will not be unprovoked. I want to keep the record clear.”
“But there's no strategy for fighting ships of equal capability as Galactic Mail's. There's never been anyone of equal capability to fight,” Micheli said.
“There's never been anyone of equal capability to fight, but that doesn't mean there isn't a strategy,” Dawson said.
“Well, I've never seen one,” Micheli said.
“Jan Childers, Tien Jessen, Jeannette Xi, Bev Bhatia, and their staff developed a strategy, and ran it on simulators. They kept it secret, but it's in our instructions, the plans they set aside for the Watchers. I've already set it in motion.
“The first step is to gather our forces.
“Then we're going to poke the bear.”
The meeting became a tactical planning session that ran over three days, with Otto Sokolov's tactical people in and out of the room constantly, running simulations of different scenarios.
Dawson and Morgan were having dinner the night of their second day on Kalnai.
“I've been thinking. I think we need to bring the kids here, Hon,” Dawson said.
“Into the center of the maelstrom?” Morgan asked.
“They'll be safer here than on Horizon. I worry about Padma Kosar trying to get at me through the kids. Kidnapping them. Or worse.”
“You think she would do that?”
“Based on what I've heard, I don't think there's much she'd stop at to preserve her power in Galactic Mail. I want them here where I can protect them,” Dawson said.
“What about your mom?”
“Up to her. If she wants to come along, that's OK. I'll mention it to her in my mail. She probably won't, though. You might suggest she visit friends or something for a week or so if she doesn't come along.”
“OK, Patty. I can run out to Horizon and get them. Only take a couple days,” Morgan said.
“No. There are a couple of small VIP courier ships here. You can run out there and back in less than a day. I'll let Mom know you're coming. I'll send a special dispatch mail drone.”
“You're in a hurry.”
“Things are going to be moving very quickly,” Dawson said. “I don't know how long we have before Kosar goes off. And I want you back here before it all hits the fan.”
“All right. I can leave tomorrow morning early, and be back for a late supper.”
“I appreciate it, Hon.”
The VIP courier ship was a three-gravity vessel, though they made the trip at a more leisurely 2.5 gravities. Bob Morgan spent the five-hour trip in a flotation tank, and was on the ground in New Hope by 9:00 hours local time.
He messaged Pat's mother, Claire Vogel, from the airport that he was on his way. When he got to Campbell Hall, Claire, the kids, and three suitcases waited on the porch.
“Daddy! We're going to go on a spaceship?”
“Yes, Billy, we're going to go on a spaceship.”
“Wow!” both kids said in unison.
“So you're coming along, Claire?” Morgan asked.
“Oh, I might as well, Bob. Patty's gonna need a babysitter anyway, and I'm sort of curious about the trip. I've never been off-planet. So it's something new to try.”
“You ready to go then?”
“Yep. The house is all closed up and we're all set.”
They all bundled into the hired car and headed for the airport.
They were in the shuttle at the New Hope spaceport before 10:00 local time, and landed on the shuttle pad of the administrative building at Galactic Mail's Kalnai regional headquarters by 19:00 hours local time there.
“Mom!”
“We were on a spaceship.”
“And we were weightless.”
“And they put a tube in my privates so I could pee.”
“And their VR let us watch the bridge and everything.”
“And they gave us a pill to take with dinner.”
“And they said we're gonna have to poop afterwards.”
“And grandma came, too.”
“Yes, yes, dears, I know, I know,” Dawson said as she hugged her chattering kids. The twins tag-team-rattled when they were excited.
Dawson turned to Vogel.
“Thanks for coming, Mom.”
“No problem, dear. Just one less thing for you to worry about, and I can help out with the kids.”
“OK, well, it's dinner time, so let's go get something to eat.”
With her family around her, Dawson felt grounded and at peace. She slept very well that third night on Kalnai.
By the end of their fourth day on Kalnai, Dawson was ready.
Gathering Forces
The tactical resources of Galactic Mail in the Kalnai region – all fourteen divisions reporting directly or indirectly to Kali Micheli – were under the direct command of Otto Sokolov on Kalnai. Dawson wouldn't be stepping on any toes in pulling together Galactic Mail's military resources from across the region.
Across all fourteen divisions, all Galactic Mail drone tenders on ready status received orders for them and their drone complements to space for Kalnai.
The crews of drone tenders on planet re-stock and rotation were recalled as their ships were called to assume ready status. Once their crews were all aboard, those drone tenders, too, spaced for Kalnai.
Ready-status drones in all fourteen headquarters systems dropped into hyperspace and headed for Kalnai.
And in all fourteen systems, freighters containing Sokolov's considerable reserves began offloading drones, thousands of drones, which dropped into hyperspace and headed for Kalnai.
“All right, Jack. You ready to go?” Dawson asked.
“All set,” Turner said.
“Be careful. Don't take any chances. Do the job and then get the hell out of there.”
“Understood. Hey, I'll be back in a few hours. Don't worry.”
“I've got kids. I always worry.”
Jack Turner was taking the GMS Quicksilver to Doma. Quicksilver was one of the new high-speed ships fitted with the acceleration tanks. They wouldn't be pressurized on the way to Doma, to preserve their pressurization allowance, but they would be running like hell coming back.
The shuttle took him up to the ship. It looked to his eyes like any other drone tender. Crew of about a hundred, and, rather than the folding cylinders, it had a single crew cylinder at the rear, around the main engine. There was a hyperspace projector at the front, looking like a smaller version of the main engine, surrounded by the familiar rings of supply and rea
ction mass containers. It did look like the main engine was longer than the one on a normal drone tender, but he had only had fleeting glimpses of one of those.
The Quicksilver spun around an axis perpendicular to its length, providing apparent gravity in the crew cylinder aft. The shuttle docked in its latches amidships, on a bulkhead that was counter-rotated to be stationary with respect to the shuttle. The crew assisted him in getting aboard ship from the shuttle in the zero-g, and onto the elevator down into the crew spaces.
“Mr. Turner. Welcome aboard. I'm Captain Jola Park,” Park said.
“Pleased to meet you, Captain.”
“I understand we're in something of a hurry, so let's get you right to your cabin. The nurse will assist you.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Park waved Turner toward a fellow in a medical uniform, who led him down a hallway on the bridge deck.
“Right in here, Mr. Turner. And then if you would please disrobe.”
Turner stripped down to his skin and the nurse rubbed him down with an oily lotion.
“This coating will keep your skin from getting all wrinkled and waterlogged during the trip. We have a special soap that releases it for your shower when you get back.”
At a motion from the nurse, Turner got into the tank. It was about thirty inches tall, and he would be lying on the bottom of the tank a few inches off the floor. While he was still standing, the nurse gave him a high-grav pill and assisted with the single plumbing connection. The nurse then fitted him with a breathing mask.
“It's my understanding you have experience scuba diving, Mr. Turner?”
“Yes. That's why I was chosen. I'm the only one of us, apparently.”
“Good. That makes things a little easier. All right, let me put this on you now. Can you breathe OK?”
Turner nodded. The mask wasn't a normal scuba setup. It was a full-face sealed clear mask with two air tubes that circulated air. The air was at a bit of pressure, to hold the seal on the mask, which was also aided by a line of a thicker version of the body lotion. There was also a sippy tube in the corner of his mouth.
“All right. I need you to lay down on the bottom of the tank, and I'll want you to check your VR connection. You can just signal me with a thumbs up once you're sure you're connected.
“Make sure you stay hydrated during your time in the tank. You should drink about six ounces of water per hour.
“If you have any problems during the flight, there is an emergency call button within the VR interface. And we will also be monitoring your vital signs, as well as those of everyone else aboard. Ready to try it?”
Turner nodded and submerged himself in the tank, laying down on the bottom. It was somewhat form-fitting, with a cradle for his head. He belted himself in on the bottom and lay out full-length. He tested the VR, and logged in without trouble. He also tested his breathing with several normal breaths.
Turner gave a thumbs up to the nurse. The nurse's voice came back through the VR.
“Very well, Mr. Turner. I'm going to seal you in now. My own tank is next door, and you have the emergency call button if you need it. Have a good crossing.”
With that, the nurse closed the pressure-tight hatch that was the top of the tank. Turner felt a little stir in the water as the air at the top of the tank was pumped out and replaced with water. In his normal senses, he was locked in water in near-darkness, there being a night light in the tank, while in the VR, he had the run of the ship, all its sensors and computer files, and its exterior cameras.
Turner would not leave the tank until he was back at Kalnai.
The tank pressured up a bit, like being in perhaps ten feet of water. Turner watched the virtual bridge in the VR as the Quicksilver halted its rotation, engaged its engines, and headed for the hyperspace-1 limit for a manned ship. She was making 2.5 gravities. When Turner dialed back the VR, he felt the additional gravity somewhat, but nothing like 2.5 gravities. He dialed the VR up again, into full immersion, and checked his command files and the plan he was to follow.
After two hours accelerating to the hyperspace-1 limit, Quicksilver transitioned into hyperspace. The transitions occurred at five-minute intervals, all the way to hyperspace-6. They were in hyperspace-6 for several minutes before flipping ship and reversing the process.
After an hour in hyperspace, Quicksilver dropped out of hyperspace in the Doma system twenty light-seconds out, and on the other side of the planet from its ready drones standby point.
As soon as Quicksilver dropped out of hyperspace, Turner presented his credentials to the Galactic Mail central computer systems. They recognized him, and he was in. He downloaded his command files to his secure account, then started the master command file running. He waited until he got an acknowledgement, then watched as the first of the command files executed.
“All right, Captain Park. I'm done. Let's go home.”
Quicksilver dropped back into hyperspace and the tank pressured up over the next few minutes. As it did, the engines increased their acceleration until they were at seven gravities.
The hyperspace trip back to Kalnai took twenty-five minutes, while the trip from the hyperspace-1 limit to planet orbit was cut to seventy minutes, as Quicksilver kept cutting its deceleration as Turner and the rest of the crew gradually depressurized.
The entire flight back took just over an hour and a half.
The nurse unlatched the tank and opened the top hatch. He helped Turner out of his breathing gear and his plumbing connection, then gave him a hand getting out of the tank. With the body oil still on his body, he felt like he had been immersed in lard for five hours. The nurse directed him to the shower and he washed off the oil and felt more like himself. He got dressed, and the nurse showed him back to the captain's ready room.
“How was your flight, Mr. Turner?” Park asked.
“It went very well. What an interesting experience. I find it hard to believe we actually went to Doma and returned in five hours.”
“Oh, we were there, all right, Mr. Turner. I was starting to get pretty nervous by the time you said to go. It's the most heavily defended planet in the galaxy, and drones were maneuvering to sight on us once we ignored their challenges.”
“Really.”
“Oh, yes. We had about twenty more minutes before we would have had to bug out in any case. But you got your job done quickly, actually several minutes faster than what I was briefed to expect, and I was happy to be gone.”
Turner reported in to Dawson in the conference room that had become their tactical headquarters.
“How'd it go? Any problems?” Dawson asked.
“None at all. Captain Park said their drones were trying to range on us, but I was done with twenty minutes to spare,” Turner said.
“And the computers accepted your credentials?”
“Yep. No issues I could see. All the command files uploaded OK, including the master command file, and I checked them all, then kicked off the master.”
“Excellent,” Dawson said, then checked her watch. She had one time display set to Kalnai and one to Doma, which was a trick because their days weren't the same length, but the watch had all thirty-five thousand human planets programmed into it.
“So now we see what happens,” Dawson said. “You ready to get your group together and get off-planet?”
“All set. I already sent them notice of my arrival in VR. They're getting their things together. And Natasha Sanna and Bob Graham are getting their group together.”
“Good. I better go say goodbye to my husband and kids.”
Jack Turner, Mary Dragic, and half the Board of Directors were taking a shuttle up to the GMS Magellan, while Natasha Sanna and Bob Graham were taking the other half of the Board up to the GMS Hudson. They had to protect against the possibility the attack from Doma would break through their defenses. It only took one drone with a ten megaton warhead to take out the base. With two ships in space, each with a backup president, a backup chairman, and half
the Board, the Watchers as a force would survive such a catastrophe. Leaving all their eggs in one basket on Kalnai was not an option.
Bob Morgan, Billy, and Penny would be going aboard the Hudson until the battle was over.
Poking the Bear
The tactical resources of Galactic Mail in the Doma region – which constituted fifteen divisions reporting directly or indirectly to regional manager Kajus Phan – were under the direct command of chief of Tactical Gani Broz on Doma. Orders in her name went out from Doma to all divisions in the Doma region except the division headquartered on Doma itself. She didn't send those orders, the computers did, running one of Turner's command files. That command file was the first one triggered off by Turner's master command file when it's time of execution was hit, before Turner and Quicksilver even returned to Kalnai.
Across all fourteen divisions, all Galactic Mail drone tenders on ready status received orders for them and their drone complements to space for Kalnai and place themselves under the command of Otto Sokolov on Kalnai.
The crews of drone tenders on planet re-stock and rotation were recalled as their ships were called to assume ready status. Once their crews were all aboard, those drone tenders, too, spaced for Kalnai.
Ready-status drones in all fourteen headquarters systems dropped into hyperspace and headed for Kalnai.
And in all fourteen systems, freighters containing Broz's considerable reserves began offloading drones, thousands of drones, which dropped into hyperspace and headed for Kalnai.
Padma Kosar was having her weekly meeting with Myron Kwan, the head of Galactic Mail Security. It was their normal Tuesday afternoon meeting, held in her office in the Galactic Mail central administrative building on Doma.
“So what have you got for me this week, Myron?” Kosar asked.
“Not much. We didn't get a report from Kian Sitko Friday, and again yesterday,” Kwan said.
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