“Not as much as we’d planned,” the Admiral admitted, “let alone as much as you might hope. Our mission calls for the liberation of multiple systems, and we lost one of the logistics transports attached to my command.
“I’m pleased we took the Terran platforms intact,” she continued. “We can provide you four more defense platforms, our own Citadel-class, plus roughly two hundred Falcon starfighters and two hundred and fifty missile satellites. We cannot,” Alstairs admitted, “provide you with crew for all of those. I have a cadre sufficient to provide a skeleton crew for the platforms and trainers for the starfighters. I’m afraid we can’t spare more.”
Mira ran down the numbers in her implant. That was half of the load of the freighter still with them. Seventh Fleet had been provided enough extra that the loss of one freighter meant they should still be able to set up defenses for each liberated system.
Without the fourth freighter’s worth of defensive platforms, though, she wasn’t sure if the plan to take and hold Via Somnia would still be viable. It was a system the Commonwealth would have to retake, and without the extra firepower of the defenses, Seventh Fleet could be in trouble holding it.
“Your offer is approximately what I was warned to expect,” Mantovani replied calmly. “We will shortly reestablish quantum-entanglement communications with Alliance High Command as well. I fear we will only be a burden on the Alliance for the moment, but my people will do their utmost to turn that around.”
“We will arrange for transfer of the defenses and missile stocks as soon as possible,” Alstairs told her. “My people will contact yours—I am certain you have a lot to deal with, Premier.”
“The first day returning to work is always…extraordinary,” Zahn’s elected leader said demurely. “We will talk more soon, Admiral.”
The channel to the surface cut out and Alstairs turned to her flag captain and most senior captain.
“Anders, Solace. Your thoughts?”
“They have more people and ships than I expected,” the Lord Captain admitted grudgingly. “If they can refit the Terran missile satellites, this world will have formidable defenses.”
“But not enough to stand off a serious attack without starship support,” Mira said quietly.
“Exactly,” Anders agreed, to her surprise.
She’d half-expected him to disagree on principle. She needed to remember that, abrasive as the man could be, he was competent.
“These people will take time to train,” he continued. “Time we cannot spare. Time in which they are vulnerable.” He shrugged. “There is little strategic value to this system, Admiral. Liberating it has only made it a target to the Commonwealth—we have done them no favors here as we cannot afford to defend this system enough to keep it free.”
“Not to mention, where were the warships?” Mira asked. “We found none. Seven-Two hit two, one of them ancient. Seven-Three saw one—a last-generation carrier. We were expecting three ships in each system, so we’re missing six capital ships from what Intelligence expected to see.
“Ma’am, I somehow doubt those ships just disappeared. If we’re not careful, we could see a nodal force we didn’t expect rush back in and take these systems from underneath us.”
“I agree,” Alstairs said simply. “So does Alliance Intelligence. So, for that matter, does Alliance High Command. It just…doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter?” Anders demanded. “We’ve marked these people as targets and are leaving them with insufficient defenses, and it doesn’t matter?!”
Apparently, Anders had a soul. Mira had to approve.
“Captain, please,” the Admiral told him. “We always knew that these systems were going to be vulnerable. Seventh Fleet is not a defensive formation; holding these systems is not our mandate.
“But if we complete Rising Star and punch out Via Somnia, they will be safe, as the Commonwealth will lack the logistical support for offensives along this entire section of the front. In this case, the best defense truly is a swift offense.
“So, let’s be about it.”
Cora System
20:00 March 14, 2736 ESMDT
DSC-078 Avalon, Captain’s Breakout Room
The little conference room attached to Kyle’s office was large enough for half a dozen people. With the wonders of holographic conferencing, it currently held over a dozen.
Anderson and Stanford were actually physically present in the room, his XO and CAG providing Avalon’s input. Brigadier Hammond and Mayor Musil were relaying in from Montreal’s surface. Sledgehammer’s Captain Urien Ainsley, Indomitable’s Captain Gervaise Albert and Courageous’s Captain Christine Olivier were all linked in from their ships.
While those five were linked in by Q-Com, they could theoretically have used radio as all of them were within orbit of Montreal with Avalon. The other members of the conference couldn’t have—the closest was Admiral Alstairs in the Zahn system, six light-years away.
Fleet Admiral Meredith Blake, Chief of Naval Operations for the Federation, was in the Castle system, nearly sixty light-years away. Sky Marshal Octavian von Stenger, the man in charge of the Imperium’s military, was even farther away—in Coraline, eighty light-years behind the front.
Those two represented roughly a third of the Alliance Joint Chiefs of Staff, also known as Alliance High Command. While the senior officers of the Star Kingdom of Phoenix and the Renaissance Trade Factor were important, the other two Chiefs of Staff—from single-system polities inevitably poorer than Phoenix—were nonentities. If Blake and von Stenger agreed to something, High Command would back it.
Terrifying as having one third of Alliance High Command sitting in on the conference, however, it was the last four participants in the conference that were making Kyle’s palms sweat.
The first, a dark-haired woman in a plain black suit, was Leanne Summervale—the Prime Minister of the Star Kingdom of Phoenix.
The second was a balding herm, slightly pudgy with age, with the visible cybernetic advancements typical of those walking the transhuman path—Hanne Kovachev, Chairman of the Board of the Renaissance Trade Factor.
Senator Maria O’Connell of the planet Tuatha represented the Castle Federation. In general, the thirteen senators who ran the Federation were equal—if one of them committed the Federation to a task or stance, they spoke for the Federation.
Kyle had at least met O’Connell. The other two heads of state were of the Alliance’s second-ranked powers; he could adjust to having them on the conference.
The last member of the conference, at the far end from Kyle as the software was arranging the conference, was a pale, dark-haired young man—a little younger than Kyle himself—clad in an unmarked black uniform and wearing a plain platinum circlet.
Queen Victoria II of the Star Kingdom acted through her Prime Minister, though most realized that her power was quite real.
John Erasmus Michael Albrecht von Coral, Imperator of the Coraline Imperium, Prince of Coraline, Duke of the High City, and a long list of other titles Kyle could not remember without using his implant memory, made no such pretenses. The Imperium’s constitution hedged and limited his power, but there was no doubt who held the final authority over the second of the Alliance’s first-rank nation-states.
This gathering of fourteen people, half of them Seventh Fleet officers, included enough political power to decide the fate of a world—which was exactly what they had gathered do.
“Do we have any information on what happened to the executives of the Cora Development Corporation?” the Imperator began. He might have been elected—for life—but he’d been raised to the job and it showed in his level speaking voice.
“We are looking into it,” Blake responded instantly. “However, they did not arrive at an Alliance world and announce themselves.”
“I know they boarded a ship and tried to flee,” Mayor Musil, a squat man with watery eyes and thin grey hair, told the Imperator, his disgust clear in his voice. “I do not know w
hat happened after that.”
“We’re digging into captured records,” Hammond added. “It is distinctly possible that their ship was destroyed in the battle.”
“And the shareholders?” von Coral asked.
“Approximately six million of record,” Musil replied carefully. “Sixty percent were in the Commonwealth. My understanding is that Walkingstick ordered them paid out—at cents on the dollar—when he seized the system. Most of the remainder are on Cora. We were expected to be grateful to have been brought into Unity.”
Kyle was pretty sure he knew where the Imperator was going with this, and it wasn’t a place that the shareholders of the CDC were going to like. It was the only real choice the Alliance had, however.
“With the senior executives missing or dead, and the vast majority of shareholders already having foregone their rights, it does not appear that the Cora Development Corporation is a functioning entity at this point, does it?” the young man, ruler of twelve star systems, said in a deceptively mild voice.
The conference was silent for a long moment, then Mayor Musil—the senior surviving member of any government on Cora—sighed and nodded.
“You are correct,” he admitted. “As a native-born son of this world, I am hardly ecstatic to see us in this position, but I cannot deny that our government is gone and the corporation operating it is no more.”
“Without some structure on Cora, it will be difficult for Battle Group Seven-Two to move on with the rest of Rising Star,” Kyle noted. “The situation on the surface remains fluid, making it a security risk.”
“I agree,” Summervale said. “Unfortunately, Mayor Musil, I think it will take too long for Cora to sort out a new government on its own. I feel the Alliance must step in.”
“This is our world,” Musil objected sharply. “We are not going to idly stand by while the Federation or Imperium simply takes over!”
“No one is suggesting anything of the sort,” von Coral told him, the Imperator’s calming baritone helping cover the fact that Kyle was pretty sure that had been exactly what the Imperator was thinking. Coraline expansionism, after all, had been why there had been enough warships in what was now the Alliance to stand off the initial Commonwealth assault.
“A more nuanced approach is called for,” Senator O’Connell told the gathering. “It is clear that Cora is not currently capable of providing their own security. I believe, however, that Brigadier Hammond should be able to leave behind one of his battalions to assist in maintaining order. Admiral Alstairs?”
Kyle glanced at Seventh Fleet’s CO, who looked thoughtful.
“Both Zahn and Hammerveldt are capable of maintaining order without our help,” she finally admitted. “Leaving a battalion on Cora shouldn’t compromise our ability to complete Rising Star.”
“A new governing structure will need to be implemented on Cora,” Kovachev announced, the Chairman’s voice oddly flat. “That government will then be responsible for paying out the remaining shareholders fairly.”
That clearly hadn’t been included in anyone else’s thought process, though it made sense. Kyle would also have been shocked, however, to discover that the Trade Factor’s government didn’t own shares in the CDC.
“In the interim, an Alliance-imposed martial law is only partially conducive to public order,” the herm continued. “Some form of local interim government is required. I suggest the appointment of a local governor, someone recognizable to the populace.”
“I agree,” the Imperator confirmed. “My understanding is that Mayor Musil is the senior remaining member of the previous government—and his actions in enabling us to take the planet with minimal collateral damage have been well publicized.”
The only person in the conference who seemed surprised by the suggestion was Johannes Musil himself. Kyle had figured out what was coming the moment Rear Admiral Alstairs had told him who was being invited to the meeting.
“It appears to be the best option,” Senator O’Connell confirmed. “As part of the Alliance, we will keep Cora safe while Interim Governor Musil restores order and holds a new constitutional convention.”
“I… I… I’m not sure that I’m the right person for the job,” Musil replied.
“Perhaps, but you’re the only person who can do it,” Summervale told him calmly. “Your world needs you, Johannes Musil. The right guiding hand could see Cora emerge from this stronger and wiser, but even a few missteps at this stage could leave your world ruined.”
The mayor was not a large man, but Kyle could see him straighten at the Phoenix Prime Minister’s words. Musil was a politician. He had to know he was being played—if Kyle could see it, he was sure the Coran man could see it—but it worked anyway.
“We all do what we must,” he finally said. “On behalf of my planet and myself, I accept.”
18
Cora System
10:00 March 17, 2736 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
Orbital Fighter Platform Zion-K265
“Pack it up, people,” Edvard ordered Bravo Company. His Marines were scattered throughout the airless, lightless void of the Zion-class fighter platform, checking to make sure there weren’t any unexpected holdouts from the Terrans.
Even with Navy sensors telling them the station was empty of life, it wasn’t quite busywork—there were ways to conceal the heat signatures of humans, after all.
“The new Governor finally found some people to send up to take possession of his new orbital defenses,” the Lieutenant Major continued. “And we, for those of you who didn’t read even the part of the ops plan you were cleared for, are heading out-system in two hours. Chimera wants us back aboard.”
Third Battalion had drawn the figurative short straw and was going to be staying on Montreal, guarding the new government and training a new planetary army from scratch. It was a necessary job, and one with a lot more public attention and friendly locals than the general run of chores the Castle Federation Marine Corps got assigned.
They were welcome to it. Edvard Hansen had signed up to fight pirates and the Commonwealth, and that was where he was going.
He wasn’t surprised when Ramirez materialized next to his arm.
“We only got seventy percent of the station swept, sir,” he said quietly over a direct channel. “We covered the most likely areas first, so we can be pretty sure the place is empty, but…”
“I know, Gunny,” Edvard told him. “We could spend a week securing platforms and satellites, though, and still be only ‘mostly sure’ they were empty. The Corans will be fine.”
“Still doesn’t feel right, leaving them in the lurch like this,” Ramirez admitted.
“Since we, ahem, accidentally rendered the Commonwealth freighter unable to generate a warp bubble, they’re getting everything she had aboard,” the Lieutenant Major pointed out. “That’s a lot of firepower, Gunny. More than most systems have to keep themselves safe.”
“And no starships,” his NCO pointed out. “Void, sir, are they even going to be able to man those platforms and fighters? Most of the people they had trained to do that died defending this system the first time.”
“Needs must when the Void pulls,” Edvard said quietly. “This op always called for temporary defenses in the systems we liberated until further reinforcements were available from the Reserve or new construction. They were supposed to have plans to hide their military personnel if the Commonwealth took over, but…”
“The CDC didn’t spend the money,” Ramirez accepted sadly. “It still doesn’t feel right, sir.”
“Well, Gunny, if everything goes right, this place will be safe, and we’ll give the Terrans a beating they won’t forget. Get our people moving. I don’t think Chimera will leave without us, but we are trying to get three Battle Groups to one place at the same time!”
DSC-078 Avalon, Bridge
“So, Maria, can we do it?” Kyle asked his navigator.
“I can do it,” she noted calmly. “Assuming we break orbit
anytime in the next three hours, I can get us to Frihet on time. But you are talking a simultaneous arrival for three separate forces, all engaged in relativistic—if low-tau—courses while sublight and then warping space beyond recognition while flying faster than light. To pull it off, I need to be good—but so do Rear Admiral Alstairs’ navigator and Force Commander Aleppo’s navigator.”
“Both of whom you have been talking to all but constantly for three days,” the Force Commander observed with a cheerful smile. “So, Maria, can we do it?”
“Sixty-forty,” she admitted. “But even if someone’s timing is off, we’ll know at least a day in advance and the other two Battle Groups can adjust their deceleration to match whoever is falling behind. So, yes, sir, we can do it.”
“Any major concerns?” he asked, suddenly more serious.
“No,” she replied. “Everyone’s A-S drives have been gone over with a fine-toothed comb, and we’re not even pushing Avalon’s engines this time. Besides, is this degree of finesse even necessary, boss?”
“I don’t know,” Kyle admitted. Alliance Intelligence put the same three starships at Frihet that they’d expected at Cora, Zahn and Hammerveldt. Since there had only been three starships between those systems, he wasn’t sure what to expect at Frihet. “If Intelligence is right this time, bringing everyone in should give us a four-to-one advantage. On the other hand, if the missing ships are at Frihet…”
“I guess we wouldn’t want only one Battle Group showing up, then,” Pendez agreed. She shrugged. “We’re just waiting on the Marines to return aboard Chimera. Once Captain Langdon confirms the Brigadier’s people are aboard, we can be on our way immediately.”
“Let’s stick to the schedule unless something comes up,” Kyle instructed. “This is a simple enough evolution for the moment, so let’s keep it that way.”
Avalon Trilogy: Castle Federation Books 1-3: Includes Space Carrier Avalon, Stellar Fox, and Battle Group Avalon Page 76