The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast

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The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast Page 40

by Christopher Nuttall


  “I understand,” Sameena said. She briefly considered asking him for troops, then dropped the idea. Maxwell needed everyone it could get. Besides, they had too many reasons to mistreat people on Jannah. “I can wait to deal with the government when you form it.”

  She looked towards a pillar of smoke, rising into the sky, and shuddered. It was less dramatic than fighting in space, or the blight wiping out an entire planet’s agriculture, but somehow it affected her deeply. No matter what she did, people were going to suffer and die.

  I’ll just have to deal with them quickly, she told herself.

  But how?

  Interlude Four

  Everything was going as the Founders had planned.

  Grand Mufti Mahmud Shaltut al-Zarqawi sipped coffee in his office and contemplated, once again, the wisdom of those who had founded Jannah. They’d known that the universe was against them, that they would have to hide and prepare for the day that the Empire dropped its guard ... and that day had finally come. He’d believed, when he had taken up the office, that it wouldn’t come in his lifetime.

  But he’d been wrong!

  He’d studied the history books endlessly, the ones that talked about the great war waged against the Empire, about how the Jihadists had come close to victory before they were betrayed by unbelievers in their own ranks. A force that had almost beaten the mighty Empire had been shattered, the last survivors forced to flee and hide. And hide they had, so well that almost all of Jannah’s population hadn't even known that they had a Grand Mufti. Or that their planet had covert links to the Empire ...

  It had been a sign, he knew, that the Founders had selected this planet, where God had created a tool they could use against the Empire – if they saw fit to use it. The Empire would pay almost anything for Firewater Mead, funding their own destruction. But that had always been the way with the infidels. When they weren't drugging themselves or drowning their sorrows in alcohol, they were selling the believers the weapons the believers needed to establish themselves as the one true power. The mercenaries training the young men on Jannah in handling starships had no real idea what they were unleashing on the galaxy.

  And they wouldn’t care either.

  The plan was slowly coming to its climax, he told himself. His teams were already poised to head into the Core Worlds, to strike at cloudscoops and other industrial facilities, to set off civil wars and arm insurgents ... just to feed the chaos that would consume the remains of the Empire. And, in its wake, his forces would move from world to world, converting the populations and absorbing their industrial bases. Piece by piece, the new Caliphate would be created. The galaxy would finally be set on the proper course.

  This time, he promised silently, there would be no mistakes.

  The Guardians had weeded the garden of Jannah endlessly. Anyone who showed even a trace of disbelieving thought was removed, along with his family. Disbelief could not be tolerated. No one could question, for questioning led directly to disbelief and sin. It was enough that they had the words of the Founders to point them on their way.

  He stood up as he heard the call to prayer echoing through the complex. It would be unseemly for him to be late, or to spend time outside the mosque when he should be paying attention to God. After all, it wouldn’t do to court God’s anger. Victory could still be snatched away from him.

  Behind him, his junior wife scurried in to pick up the coffee cup and replace it with a new one for his return. She’d been defiant at first, when her parents had been convinced to allow him to marry her, but he’d soon taught her how to behave. It hadn't been hard; a few slaps, food restrictions and threats of much worse. She was much more useful and obedient now. And his senior wives were very appreciative of having their own servant.

  Yes, he told himself. God’s anger should not be courted.

  Who knew what form His punishment might take?

  Chapter Forty-One

  Supplies from the Core Worlds slowed to a trickle – then stopped altogether. The Imperial Navy was withdrawn from the Rim, leaving defenceless planets wide open to pirate attacks. Entire sectors were simply abandoned ...

  - Professor Leo Caesius. The Science That Isn’t: Economics and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.

  “That man,” Jamie said. “Is he really your Uncle?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Sameena said. She couldn't help feeling tense. The traders didn't care about where someone came from – and Jamie already knew about Jannah – but the thought of being linked to the raiders was terrifying. “But I separated myself from him.”

  “I don't blame you,” Jamie said. “I spoke to him once and he started raving the moment I told him I was your husband. Apparently I’m failing in my husbandly duties or some such nonsense.”

  He looked up at her. “Although you really shouldn't have gone to Maxwell,” he added. “A little less luck and you might be dead now, or captured.”

  “I had to go,” Sameena said, although she knew that he was right. The prospect of falling into Uncle Muhammad’s hands was not an appealing one. “Just as we have to go to Jannah.”

  Jamie shook his head in awe. “I still can't believe that a low-tech planet managed to put together a viable challenge to the entire sector,” he said. “That would be impressive if it wasn't aimed at us.”

  “The Cartel made vast amounts of money,” Sameena said, remembering just how odd it had seemed when she had first researched it. What had it been doing with all that money? It could have spent the last few hundred years buying starships and preparing for war. “It all had to go somewhere.”

  It hadn't taken her long to realise that the Empire was in decline, not once she’d had a chance to study some proper history. She could easily see someone else from Jannah coming to the same decision – and then planning to take advantage of it, rather than mitigate the long-term consequences of the Empire’s fall. If Uncle Muhammad had been telling the truth, the Founders had planned for this moment. Sameena wasn't sure that she believed him, even though he thought that he was being honest. The Guardians had no trouble with the concept of lying.

  “If they were buying up starships for hundreds of years, we’d be screwed,” Jamie said. “But the Empire might well have noticed if they started too soon.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Did anyone give you any trouble?”

  “No,” Sameena said, gratefully. The traders were individualists; they didn't care where someone came from, merely what they made of themselves. And the Imperial Navy had hundreds of thousands of recruits who had joined to leave their homes and families behind. “Well, apart from you.”

  “Going there was stupid,” Jamie said, unapologetically. “You’re the Head of State, not a simple starship commander. You cannot put your life at risk.”

  “So you keep saying,” Sameena said. “And you’re right.”

  Jamie’s wristcom chimed. “Captain Yew has returned,” he said, dryly. “It’s time for the briefing.”

  Sameena sighed and reached for her shipsuit. She’d shuttled over to Jamie’s destroyer as soon as they arrived at the RV point, then spent the night in his cabin. It had been too long since she’d been with him, she’d told herself, and Jamie seemed to feel the same way. He certainly hadn't raised any objections to her spending the night.

  She briefly considered going to the briefing compartment ahead of him, so they entered separately, then laughed at herself. It was an absurd thought. Everyone knew that they were married; there was no point in trying to hide. Besides, it wasn't precisely a forbidden relationship by the Imperial Navy’s standards, while the traders simply wouldn't care. It was none of anyone else’s business.

  Jamie pulled on his trousers and jacket over his shipsuit, then led her out of the cabin and down into the tiny briefing compartment. Thankfully, he’d decided to hold the conference electronically; the destroyer’s compartment simply didn't have room for every commanding officer in the small squadron as well as the intelligence officers. Sameena took
a seat beside the head of the table – as the starship’s CO, Jamie chaired the meeting – and waited for the other officers to appear in front of them.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Jamie said, once the last hologram had flickered into existence. “As you know, what started as a major pirate raid on Maxwell has become something immeasurably more grave. It is no exaggeration to suggest that the future of humanity itself may ride upon our response to the new threat.”

  He gave Sameena a brief glance, then looked at Commander Sidney Peterson. “Commander?”

  Peterson stood up, activating the holographic display. “Our original assumption – that the raid on Maxwell was merely a looting mission – was badly incorrect,” he said. “The raid was actually an invasion, with an overall objective of crushing the planet’s independence and incorporating it into a new empire. Furthermore, instead of merely accepting tribute, the planet’s new rulers intended to force the population to embrace their religion. In the six weeks they ruled the planet, they destroyed religious buildings, slaughtered religious leaders and imposed religious laws on the planet. Those who failed to abide by them were punished or executed. They are still digging up mass graves on the planet.”

  Sameena shuddered, feeling a wave of guilt and shame. The occupation force had committed thousands of atrocities, ranging from rape to mass slaughter and child-theft. If the resistance hadn’t overrun the camps where the children were being held, they would have been brainwashed into mindless supporters of the regime – or simply killed, if they proved intractable. Even as it was, they were orphans. Their parents had been butchered long ago.

  How could Jannah have produced such monsters? It had always seemed so peaceful ... but she, of all people, ought to know better. If the Guardians had no problems sentencing a young man and his family to death for questioning authority, they wouldn't even blink at the prospect of penalising non-believers. Hell, the true believers wouldn’t think they had a choice. Any soul that failed to embrace their version of Islam, they believed, would go to Hell upon death. They had to try to save souls.

  “We managed to interrogate a number of enemy soldiers before the locals demanded them back,” Peterson continued. “They confirmed what we had already discovered” – he nodded to Sameena – “and filled in some of the gaps. The invaders come from Jannah, a low-tech world two weeks from Maxwell. It seems that the planet’s rulers have been planning to take advantage of the Empire’s collapse for quite some time.”

  He briefly explained what Sameena had learned from Uncle Muhammad – and then what the interrogators had pulled from him, during the interrogation. Sameena wasn't too surprised to discover that the Guardians hadn’t bothered to tell the planet’s population much; they’d simply started recruiting young men for the cause, taking them away for training without explanation. Few people would dare to question the Guardians ...

  But that might change, she told herself, if few of those young men ever returned.

  The thought made her scowl. Maxwell’s resistance – and provisional government - had butchered every member of the occupation force they could get their hands on, despite her objections. They wanted revenge – and she couldn't really blame them. And with so many young men simply gone, what would happen on Jannah? She honestly couldn’t understand why the Guardians hadn't told their people some version of the truth.

  “Those we interrogated claimed that Jannah has millions of starships,” Peterson continued. “However, we have good reason to doubt those claims ...”

  “Sure we do,” Captain Yew interrupted. “They’d have won by now if they had millions of ships.”

  “... And our analysts think that we are looking at upwards of forty starships at most,” Peterson said, ignoring the interruption. “However, we have no hard data so we cannot take anything for granted. Given fifty years and the vast monetary resources of the Cartel, they might have built up a formidable force.”

  He paused. “Their principal weakness lies in poor maintenance and worse training,” Peterson continued. “Those we interrogated were almost as ignorant as basic recruits for the Civil Guard” – there were some chuckles, led by Paddy – “and their superiors don’t seem to be actually trying to educate them. Some of them honestly believed that guns were beyond their comprehension, others had expensive pieces of kit without quite understanding how to use it to best advantage. They had night-vision goggles, for example, but never actually used them on the ground. If they had, the resistance would have had a much tougher time of it.

  “The same problems can be seen in their starships. Their training is evidently poor, they make no use of the more advanced functions ... and their maintenance is actually lower than that of the average pirate ship. My first thought was that they were suffering from the side effects of an irrational naval expansion program, but after reading the interrogation transcripts I have come to believe that there is a deliberate effort being made to deny their trainees useful knowledge. I think that this is likely to bite them hard.”

  “It already has,” Foxglove commented. “If they’d left their computers to handle point defence, the Battle of Maxwell could easily have gone the other way.”

  Wonderful, Sameena thought, sourly. We can call this the War of the Poorly-Maintained Starships and Worse-Trained Crews. If we win ...

  Peterson scowled. “Despite their general ignorance, many of the prisoners were utterly fanatical when they weren't drugged,” he concluded. “They genuinely believed that non-believers were utterly inferior to believers – and that they were forgiven any sin, as long as it was carried out in the name of God. I have no doubt that this military force would happily carry out a whole series of atrocities and never feel the slightest shred of guilt. All those who might have thought for themselves would have been weeded out long ago.”

  “In short,” Sameena said, when Peterson had finished, “we don’t dare let them out into the universe. We have to stop them now.”

  She looked over at Captain Yew. “What did you find when you surveyed their system?”

  “They’ve been preparing for this for a long time,” Yew said. “The last known visitor to the system” – he nodded at Captain Hamilton – “saw no space-based presence at all, apart from a pair of communications satellites. When we surveyed the system, we discovered a number of starships and orbital stations in position around the planet. The only thing missing was a cloudscoop.”

  “There's no gas giant in the system,” Sameena said, quietly. “They must have been stockpiling HE3 for a very long time.”

  “Almost certainly,” Peterson confirmed. “Operating a sizable fleet would require secure access to a cloudscoop ...”

  “They might simply intend to take one,” Captain Hamilton pointed out. His presence had been a welcome surprise. “There are five in the sector and we’re working on building others.”

  Sameena nodded, thinking hard. There had to be a fuel dump somewhere within the Jannah System – and if it happened to be destroyed, the enemy would become desperate. But fusion was very efficient. It was unlikely that a shortage of fuel would cripple their warships in time to be useful. On the other hand, it might force them to abandon whatever subtle plans they had and go directly for Madagascar. It was still the closest cloudscoop to Jannah.

  Captain Yew cleared his throat. “There were fifteen warships, seven of them heavy cruisers, in orbit around the planet,” he said. A low groan ran through the room. “However, we do not believe that all of them are operational. We watched them long enough to confirm that their power curves indicate poor maintenance and other telltale signs. I suspect that the crews are simply trying to do too much too quickly. My intelligence officer believes that it will be at least three months before the remainder of those ships are operational.

  “There were also a number of freighters in orbit,” he continued. “We think that most of them were captured by the enemy – some of the ship losses we attributed to pirates might well be raiding missions from Jannah. Their crews would
probably have been pressed into service.”

  Sameena nodded. Pirate commanders tended to press-gang starship crewmen from captured ships, forcing them to join the pirate crew. Those that agreed were treated relatively well; those that refused were tortured until they broke or simply killed out of hand. She hadn't been able to understand it until she’d realised just how far most humans would fall just to remain alive. And the pirates were skilled at ensuring their new recruits ended up with blood on their hands. They would soon have nowhere to go.

  “I have prepared a complete brief for you,” Captain Yew concluded. “However, I believe that our one chance to nip this in the bud is now. We have to squash Jannah before it gets those ships online, or stopping it may become impossible. There is no longer any hope of calling on support from Earth.”

  “A squadron of battleships would smash them flat inside a day,” Foxglove agreed. “But we don’t have any battleships.”

  Sameena gritted her teeth. Given a couple of years, Steve’s team could produce battleships – and plenty of missiles and other advanced weapons systems. If he was actually right about the prospects for future developments, they might certainly create better weapons than Jannah could obtain from the ruins of the Empire. But they didn't have time. It crossed her mind that they could simply withdraw into the trackless wastes of interstellar space and build up their forces, but she knew that was unacceptable. She had pledged to protect every world that had signed up with her government and she wasn't about to abandon them.

  She looked over at Yew. “What sort of production plants do they have?”

  “We saw none,” Yew said. “However, that doesn't mean anything. A survey of this sector wouldn’t find our industrial nodes either.”

  Sameena had to admit that he had a point. It was unlikely that any competent planner would turn Jannah into an industrial node; the lack of a gas giant alone would cripple it. If she’d been in charge, she would have taken over a system like Madagascar and established the industrial node there. But would Jannah’s planners have wanted to separate themselves so much from their homeworld?

 

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