by Chris Hechtl
“She's well outside of range. Masterfully done,” a familiar voice said from behind him.
He turned to Admiral De Gaulte and then back to the plot. “Yes, sir,” he said grudgingly.
“Obviously, we can't do anything about them. At least, not on this trip. See what we can do about their return trip. Position some forces in that area. They'll no doubt return to that jump point since it is familiar to them.”
“Yes, sir,” Berney said. “Maybe we'll have better luck on the next try,” he said.
“Hopefully,” Admiral De Gaulte said with a pat and squeeze of his chief of staff's shoulder before he turned away to other business.
:::{)(}:::
Captain Lovejoy's small convoy jumped into Dead Drop a few days later. He noted the patrols in the area and grunted. “What'd we miss?” he asked.
“Something important or an exercise,” his XO said with a shrug as she oversaw the ship securing from jump.
“Convoy reporting in now, sir. We're broadcasting our IFF to the ships,” a communications tech reported.
“Good. We need to do a fast turnaround. Remind me to recommend they set up some sort of shipping station here. It doesn't have to be anything elaborate. But, if we can cut the transit time even just by the time it takes for us to go into the inner system and then back out again, all the better,” the captain stated.
“Yes, sir,” his XO replied with a nod as she made a note on her tablet.
Chapter 30
Horath
“My lord …” Catherine fought to keep her impatience out of her voice as she tried to answer the question. However, the honking lord, no bleating, she thought, wouldn't let her get more than two words in edgewise as he condemned Admiral De Gaulte.
If she thought the grilling her father and the Admiralty had been bad, she'd been sadly mistaken. Since the news of the Sword's last battle had leaked, the House of Lords had voted to allow the testimony to be open and public. That had not gone over well with the prime minister or emperor. The open-handed slap had set a dangerous tone for things to come.
Sakura Umeki, the imperial herald, had her hands full with damage control. She kept pointing to Admiral De Gaulte for blame.
Catherine hated the blame game more now than ever.
A tap of a gavel made her and the spluttering lord start. The lord stopped what he was saying and looked over to the count. “Can you let her finish a sentence, Sydney?” Count McAllen demanded.
“I …”
“Let's start with the first question, shall we?” the count demanded, turning politely to the princess. “Commander, you were explaining about construction?”
“Specifically, enemy construction. There are some conclusions we drew from seeing those ships. First, the enemy is building ships. They are building ships at a faster rate than we are despite being so far behind us. Second, those ships are technologically a match for the Federation standard. Third,” she rolled on as the honorable viscount of Telemark opened his mouth to protest. Not this time, she thought rolling on. “Third,” she said in a stronger tone of voice, “the ships that reinforced Second Fleet were there in a suspiciously short time period. That led Admiral De Gaulte and the staff to some concerns on our return journey. Both conclusions were worrisome, which is why I am bringing them up here.”
“Without evidence,” the Viscount blurted out.
“Correct, at this time we have only supposition for supporting evidence. But, there can be only two ways those ships got to the enemy to reinforce so quickly. Remember, there are vast distances involved. There is no way the courier could have gotten to both Pyrax and Antigua to give warning and for those ships to arrive in time. So, one, either they were already in transit, which is worrisome in itself.”
“Why?” Sydney interjected.
Count McAllen scowled at him but turned to Catherine.
“Because,” Catherine leaned forward to get a clearer shot at the microphone. “If they were in the pipeline, it means they were meant to be used. It also means they were not needed where they had come from. That means the enemy has more ships there. Better ships since two of the ships we encountered were dreadnoughts.”
The group of lords looked stonily at her. Finally, the count at the center cleared his throat slightly as if in signal for her to continue.
“As I said, there isn't time for the courier to get all the way to both places. Remember, they are in different directions. But, it had plenty of time to get to Protodon.”
“So?”
“So, they could call for help from there.”
“You believe they have an ansible?” Count McAllen demanded.
Catherine nodded. “Barring any information to the contrary, I do. Remember who is leading them. Fleet Admiral Irons is a Federation engineering admiral. He most likely has a lot of knowledge, plus a lot of toys in his toy box. We are still unsure of where he got the flag officers he is using. ONI made us aware of other sleepers like one named Logan. White is apparently another. Could there be more? And with them data? And also industrial equipment? Something had to jumpstart their industrial base to get to this point so quickly!” she insisted.
“So, either they had those ships in the pipeline or they whistled them up,” the count summarized for her.
“Yes, sir. If they were in the pipeline, that bodes ill for us since there is, undoubtedly, a great deal more coming,” she said evenly. She noted some of the looks exchanged on the dais. “If it is the ansible, the enemy has a precious strategic advantage. They can communicate in near real time. I bet they have set up more than one ansible, so they have a network.”
“Thank you, Commander. We will recess for lunch and then interview Countess Newberry. I'm certain she has some interesting things to say about all this. I am curious if she can find evidence for your testimony,” Count McAllen stated.
:::{)(}:::
Catherine had her cover tucked under her arm as she came out of the conference room. Security was finally on the job, so she didn't have to deal with the gaggle of reporters waiting to pounce on anyone who tried the front entrance and exit.
“You did well in there,” the countess murmured.
She turned to the other woman. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said.
“You didn't throw anyone under the bus. I appreciate that.”
“I'm sorry?”
“A lot of finger pointing is going on. Heads are being threatened, mine included for not 'properly assessing the threat to the Empire.'” The countess grimaced in distaste. “I can't pass on what I don't know.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Catherine replied neutrally.
“I think you lit a fire under some of them. How effective it will be will remain to be determined,” the countess said as she departed.
:::{)(}:::
After lunch Catherine watched in the wings as the countess took a seat at the desk for her own grilling. The committee was clearly unhappy by her department's lack of progress in penetrating the enemy's territory. Also not seeing it coming bothered a few with misgivings. What was interesting was when they got around to asking about the princess's conclusions.
“We have gone over the data from the attacks on Protodon. Several things leapt out to us. One was that there is a platform that matches the size and shape of an ansible platform from our records,” the countess said. Unlike the princess, she had images to go with her statement. She turned to the side and used a remote control to bring up sensor data and grainy images from long distance shots. The platform was outlined and then the outline was matched against an ansible platform. “As you can see, it is a near perfect match.”
“So, Admiral De Gaulte and Princess Ramichov are correct. Does that mean the enemy called those reinforcements in after the battle of B-97a?”
“I don't know. The evidence supports that conclusion. My office worked with the Admiralty. We put together a rough estimate of how long one of their couriers took to get to Protodon.” She turned and the slide change to that of a time estimate
and star chart with a course plotted. “Based on this we ran a least-time run from both Pyrax and Antigua. Our last intelligence of the one dreadnought we knew about said that Bismark was in Pyrax and was not fully functional. Obviously, that was out-of-date.”
“Obviously,” Sydney interjected scathingly.
“That is a problem in interstellar distances. What I can tell you is the ships might have come from there to participate in the battle of B-95a3. But it would have been tight. My staff and I and the Admiralty staff believe that those ships came from Antigua.” She pressed the remote again, and the star chart plotted out a course from Antigua to Protodon and then B-95a3. “That would have given them plenty of time to get to Protodon and work to integrate with Second Fleet.”
“More supposition,” Sydney drawled. “Where is the proof?” he demanded.
“We only have the basic data dumps, tactical and reports. We would need to go over the surviving ship's sensor data of their visit to Protodon to see if there are ion trails.”
“What does it matter? They got there. What matters now is what we do about them!” a dame on the dais grumbled, apparently irritated by the slow proceedings. There was a soft but grim murmur of support from the gallery.
“What are you doing now to remedy our lack of knowledge, Admiral?” Count McAllen asked.
“I can't answer that in an open session. If you wish to know, you will need to ask me in a closed session after all parties are sworn to secrecy,” the countess replied smoothly.
He stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “Very well. Clear the gallery. We will go over this now and then break for the evening,” he stated.
The other lords nodded.
Catherine got up with the rest of the audience and filed out dutifully.
:::{)(}:::
“Damn them,” Pyotr grumbled as he read the report from his spies in the Lords.
“We're going to have to do something proactive. Get out ahead of this,” Jezebel stated.
“I am not …”
“Be reasonable, Pyotr,” Irazabeth scolded mildly. He turned in surprise to her. “We need to get out ahead of this like your mother said. Lead.” His eyes cut from one woman to the other. “Your daughter has shown us the way. You just don't like dancing to someone else's tune.”
His grimace deepened. “No. No I don't,” he finally admitted.
“Tough. We need to get this done. You are acting like a spoiled child when the Empire is on the line,” his mother said coldly, glaring at him.
He started to glower back but couldn't hold her gaze for long. It was like staring into the eyes of a cobra. “Yes, Mother,” he muttered.
“Good. I am glad that is settled. Send a squadron, or whatever is required. Listen to Catherine! She's trying to help Pyotr!” Jezebel said with an exasperated shake of her head. “She's a member of the family, not an outsider. This isn't some sort of trick! We need to do this.”
“I …,” he frowned, stopping himself from answering.
“I know you don't like sending off that much of the fleet. Too bad, it has to be done. No more half measures. If we are to succeed, the Federation has to die. This damn resurrection must be aborted. The peace and unity idiots had their time. Look at what a mess they caused with the Xenos!” she shook her head. “No, in order to succeed, we must crush them.”
He looked over to his wife for support. She nodded to him, supporting his mother over his own position. That rankled a little, but he realized they were right. “Okay,” he said with a grudging nod.
“You can't go with them, as much as you'd like to do so. Your duty is here, ruling the Empire.”
“Send Catherine?” Irazabeth asked with just a slight hint of hope in her voice.
“No. I'd like to do so but risking another heir after losing two others isn't wise politically,” Jezebel stated evenly, looking at her son significantly again.
He grimaced but then nodded once.
“Stop looking for scapegoats and get ahead of the problem. Lead,” Jezebel stated.
“Okay,” he grumbled.
“Good boy,” his wife said, rising with a slight wiggle that just so happen to open her blouse up a bit for him to see inside it a bit more. He licked his lips slightly as he looked at her. She walked over to him, one foot in front of the other in an old-fashioned hip walk and then leaned over for a kiss.
When the kiss broke, she looked into his eyes and then kissed his forehead. Then she looked over his head to Jezebel and winked.
Her mother-in-law nodded ever so slightly. A little carrot to get him to behave. If she played it right, he'd be in a good mood and after a while even consider it his idea. No matter. What mattered was preserving the Empire.
She seriously hated the idea of he proved intractable and had to go. She had positive controls over him. Men, especially sons, were usually easily led. Her granddaughter wouldn't be so manipulatable.
:::{)(}:::
“Can we clear the current construction?” Ahab asked.
Malwin shook his head. “I don't see how. We've cut the construction process to the bone. Throwing up a secondary refit yard to deal with teething issues would help. Unfortunately, that will take time.”
“I see.”
“What we could use is one of those repair yards here. Garth's yard would be perfect for that.”
“There are a lot of teething issues?” Ahab asked.
Malwin stared at him as if he'd asked a stupid question. The Gather Fleet admiral flushed. “Okay, apparently that was an uninformed question. Just how bad is it?”
“We are down to the basics. Garth has picked up some of the slack,” Malwin admitted. “We're not seeing half of the refits now that word is spreading for the rest of the fleet to go to the pickup points.”
“And from there to El Dorado,” Ahab said with a nod. “Won't they saturate them?”
“Yes. We were supposed to be shipping components to them to start a small stockpile. Instead we're running through the stockpile we've got. We're getting shipments in from the other planets, but most of it is shipments of basic goods. The highly technical gear we have to make here. Very few of the other planets have the ability to produce them.”
“Ah. I know that part,” Ahab replied with a nod. “I've been out and about after all. I've seen Sigma sector. Most of it is desolation. The few occupied star systems are dirt grubber agro worlds,” he said with a grimace.
“Exactly. That means cottage industry or early industrial industry at best. We have to send in a contact team to refit the planet's industry. That means a workforce has to be trained.”
“But first Purity Enlightenment has to cleanse the population,” Ahab replied neutrally.
Malwin nodded. “And that takes time. I know some don't care if some alien works himself to death in a factory. I'd much prefer them do that than just exterminate them. That's something else that needs to change.”
“I think you are tilting at windmills, my friend. Some things you can't change.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. If things get rough enough, some will be interested in trying it. I know a lot of the lords aren't happy about having to reinvest in their holdings,” he said with a brief smile.
Ahab snorted. “You mean, after we spent centuries pulling this stuff out we have to give it back?” he asked. Malwin nodded. “Wait, you are serious?”
“Well, not give per se. Invest. We have to send the industrial plant, or at least the tools to make it, plus the people trained to set it up. We were trying an experiment with a few planets nearby to do it all in one go. Invade and indoctrinate, plus get people working.”
“Where? I mean the nearest colonies we've been suborning for centuries, right?”
“Destria is one,” Malwin said. Ahab grimaced. “Yeah, I know. OTBP is another. I know there are a few in Sigma too and a few in Pi and beyond,” Malwin shrugged the idea aside. “But then there are those planets that are doing a good job resisting. Konahagakure is still a problem for instance.”
“Right,” Ahab drawled. “I think we can write those off by now.”
“I hope not; I really do. In order to win against the Feds, we are going to need everything. We've got the industrial potential to match them; we need to tap into it and get it running efficiently. They've got the same problems we have remember! They are starting with an agro community.”
“Yeah, but look what they are doing with it. They've gone from nothing to this in less than twenty years,” Ahab said sourly. He froze and then his grimace deepened.
“What?”
“You aren't going to like it.”
“I'm not going to like a lot of things. Give,” Malwin said, eyes narrowing.
“If they've got this far in twenty years despite us, where will they be in twenty more? If this turns into a stalemate, we could be in trouble in the long term. They'll be investing in the planets. They will only have to invade the ones we've conquered. People will welcome them with open arms once they realize what we're doing and that they can stand up to them!”
Malwin sighed. “I know. That's what scares me,” he said. Ahab studied him and then nodded.
:::{)(}:::
“How do I look?” Pyotr asked as he fidgeted. He felt odd, it was not something he liked feeling. He was used to having everything planned, to being on top of the situation. Currently he felt anything but in control. He felt like things were sliding out of his control. He hated that.
He had spent decades planning to take the throne. He'd maneuvered, he'd schemed, he'd bid his time and then had risen to power. None could deny him his due. But, there was that nugget of doubt growing after this series of failures. He needed to deal with them. The lords were right in pointing out the error of underestimating the enemy. Well, that ended now he reminded himself.
“You look fine,” Irazabeth said softly as if to calm him. She examined him and stroked his uniform, then brushed away an errant hair. “Remember, cool and orderly. You aren't bowing to pressure, you are taking the lead now that you know the truth of the situation and the dangers involved. Don't finger point. We can't afford the fights with the families.”