“I see,” he said, finally. “What do you want us to do?”
“Two things,” Jasmine said. She crossed her legs as she leaned forward to meet his eyes. “I want you to put the planet’s orbital defences on alert – and I want you to call a halt to the campaign in the Zone.”
“I see,” Daniel repeated. “Is that all?”
A ghost of a smile crossed Jasmine’s sharp features. “For the moment,” she said. “I know it won't be easy.”
Daniel snorted, rudely. That was an understatement. There had been so much pressure in the Senate to do something about the Zone that it was unlikely they would understand, let alone accept it, if he ordered the troops to hold in place. And yet, the cost of reducing the Zone had been staggering, in both men, material and buildings. If the fighting continued at the same intensity, there would be nothing left but bloodstained rubble.
But some of the Speakers are already planning its replacement, he thought, slowly. They don’t care if the entire Zone is flattened.
“No,” he said. “It won't be easy.”
Jasmine sighed. “We could be attacked here at any moment,” she said. “If Wolfbane attacks, the last thing we need is so many units involved in a ground combat campaign that will make them very obvious targets. We need to start thinking about dispersing our military units ...”
“Which will run the risk of allowing the insurgents to claim a victory,” Daniel pointed out, after a long moment. “They’re already winning the propaganda war.”
“We could lose the war against Wolfbane if we allow too many of our units to be destroyed on the ground,” Jasmine pushed. “And you may need the rebels, if the shit hits the fan.”
Daniel shook his head. “There's no way we could work with them,” he said. “The Senate would never allow it.”
He held up a hand. “I’ll allow you to hold in place, for the moment,” he added. “But you need to understand the political realities. We cannot allow the insurgents time to recover, not now, not after all we’ve lost. And they know it too.”
Jasmine sighed. “At least put the orbital defences on alert,” she urged. “You’ll need them if Wolfbane comes here.”
“I will,” Daniel said. “And thank you.”
“Review the data,” Jasmine said, pointing to the datachip. “I think we only have days, at best, before the war begins.”
“The next war,” Daniel corrected.
***
Mandy let out a sigh of heartfelt relief as Sword returned to normal space on the edge of the Thule System. She’d feared the worst; Sword was an older ship, no matter how many improvements the Commonwealth Navy had worked into her systems. It was vaguely possible that the fleet she’d detected had outrun her, if they had left at once. But there were no emergency beacons on the edge of the system, squawking their alarm.
“Send the signal I prepared,” she ordered. “And then take us back to the squadron, best possible speed.”
“Aye, Captain,” the communications officer said.
Mandy settled back in her command chair, silently reviewing the situation time and time again. None of her conclusions had changed, no matter how much she poked and prodded at her thoughts. Wolfbane was preparing to strike, she knew, and the blow could fall at any moment. Everything was about to go pear-shaped.
She'd compressed everything they’d picked into a single signal, which she’d had beamed towards both the squadron and Thule. Jasmine would know what was coming, she knew, although she was damned if she knew what Jasmine could do. Maybe she’d have a better idea, Mandy hoped, but all Mandy had been able to devise was loading the CEF on its transports and abandoning Thule. There was no way she could hold the world if the entire fleet she’d detected came calling. Endlessly, while she waited, she waged the Commonwealth-Wolfbane War in her head. But there were just too many possible opening moves for the enemy side.
“Captain,” the communications officer said sharply, “we’re picking up an emergency signal from the squadron.”
Mandy glanced down at her console ... and swore as she saw the summery. An assassination attempt on Avalon, war threatened ... and, she knew, an entire enemy fleet within striking distance. The war was almost certainly about to begin within the next few days.
“Order the squadron to form up on Sword, once we rendezvous with them,” she ordered. She had to compose a new message, one for the courier boat. “And alert me the moment something – anything – happens.”
There was a bleep from the console. “Captain, a courier boat just entered the system,” the sensor officer said. “It was on the same course as ourselves. And it just sent a message into the system.”
Mandy gritted her teeth. Somehow, she was sure that message was intended for the insurgents on Thule. But, right now, there was nothing she could do about it.
***
“This is the situation,” Jasmine said, an hour after Mandy’s message had arrived and she’d read her sealed orders. They hadn't included anything she hadn’t expected, given the situation. “An enemy fleet is within striking distance, an enemy message was beamed into the system and everything had suddenly become suspiciously quiet.”
She looked around the small office, meeting the eyes of her subordinates. “I don't need to tell you, I think, what this might mean for us,” she continued. “Thule is heavily defended, but she won't be able to stand off the enemy fleet alone. Furthermore, we cannot risk heavy losses in starships ourselves. This leaves us with a major problem.”
They all understood the implications. The only thing preventing either the local government or the CEF from heavy use of KEWs to obliterate rebel formations was concerns about collateral damage. Once the orbital defences fell – and Wolfbane took control of the planet’s high orbitals – any resistance on the surface could simply be destroyed from orbit. If the CEF failed to disperse by then, it would be wiped out too.
That's why they lured us into the Zone, Jasmine thought, in sudden cold realisation. They wanted us to mass the local units so they could be destroyed. When the CEF arrived, they merely updated the plan to include our forces too. And destroying the CEF in the opening moves of the war would be a grievous blow to Commonwealth morale.
“I was granted authority to withdraw, if necessary,” she said. She dropped the datachip with the orders on the table, inviting her officers to examine them. “I want you to start working out plans for withdrawing as much of the CEF as possible through the spaceport and up to the transports. The equipment can be replaced, men cannot be. Once they are on the transports, they are to withdraw towards Avalon.”
“The local government will have a fit,” Joe Buckley observed, mildly. “They will claim they're being abandoned.”
And they'd be right, Jasmine thought.
She slapped the table, loudly enough to catch their attention. “Every previous war we have been involved in was localised,” she said. “We fought to put down an insurgency, subvert a military dictatorship or relieve our comrades who were under siege. There hasn't been a real interstellar war for over a thousand years ... and that interstellar war was on a very small scale. The Empire simply built up a colossal fleet and overwhelmed its target.
“This is going to be different. Wolfbane may be bigger than us, but it is hardly the size of the Empire. The coming battle for Thule may determine the planet’s fate, yet it will not determine the victor of the war. I will not waste resources fighting for Thule when they can be preserved to continue the fight elsewhere. If the Colonel feels that I have made a mistake, I have no doubt I will hear about it. Until then, my orders stand.”
She took a long breath. “I do not want to inform the locals of our decision, if possible,” she admitted. “We have been planning to rotate units back through the spaceport in any case. This ... will merely be another such movement.”
“If they don’t attack,” Buckley offered, “you will be rather embarrassed.”
Jasmine smiled. “I know,” she said. “But does anyone here believe
they won’t attack?”
There was no answer.
***
Silence fell over the Zone as the sun rose in the sky.
Gudrun slipped out of the hospital at daybreak and wandered through the streets, feeling almost as though she were in a dream. Something had happened at the HQ, according to the rumours, although no two rumours agreed on what had actually taken place. There had been gas and fire and helicopters and ... Gudrun had a terrible feeling that the CEF had mounted a mission which had succeeded alarmingly well.
And it was quiet. The endless shooting from the front lines had come to an end. Insurgents thronged through the streets, looking around in bemusement. There had been no surrender, no end to the war, just ... a sudden pause in the storm. No one quite seemed to know what to think about it. Gudrun looked at some of the children, their faces pale and terrified, and shivered. Maybe the war would come to an end and the children would be safe, no matter where they went. Or maybe the sudden silence was just a pause in the storm.
***
Pete Rzeminski disliked being a prisoner. He knew how to wait, he knew how to be patient ... but there was nothing at the end of the line, apart from death. The planetary government wouldn't hesitate to execute him for his crimes, even though they'd committed the crime that had brought him into the war. Would the fighting have been so bad without him and his allies? Perhaps so ... or perhaps it would have been worse. Hundreds of tiny movements rather than one big one, all trying to outdo their rivals as well as fight the government.
He tested his cuffs again, but there was no hope of escape. His captors had undergone the same courses as himself, he knew; they understood how best to keep him prisoner. He was mildly surprised they hadn't knocked him out or stuffed him into a stasis tube, which would have rendered escape completely impossible. But they had probably decided it didn't matter, he told himself. There was no hope of escape.
The door opened, revealing the young female Marine from earlier. Pete wondered, absently, if his words had made an impact on her, but suspected it didn't matter. If he'd been on active service, he probably wouldn't have switched sides no matter the cause. Even if she wasn't loyal to the local government, she would be loyal to the ideal of the Corps and her comrades, the men and women she fought besides. And then she squatted down next to him.
“This planet is about to be attacked,” she said, quietly. “By Wolfbane.”
Pete lifted his eyebrows. “Wolfbane?”
“You must know that they are the ones who supplied you with weapons,” the Marine snapped. “Or didn't you bother to ask for any ID?”
“I didn't choose to ask,” Pete said, softly. “We were desperate.”
“I suppose you were,” the Marine said. “Listen carefully.”
She briefly explained about the assassination attempt on Avalon, the identity of the would-be assassin and the discovery of an enemy fleet within striking distance of Thule. “You have to know they probably want more from you than just your neutrality,” she concluded. “Like it or not, your world is one hell of a prize.”
“I see,” Pete said, when she’d finished. “And what would you like me to do?”
“I have an offer for you,” the Marine said. “When their fleet arrives – if their fleet arrives – I am prepared to release you. In exchange, I want you to ensure that your people don’t join with Wolfbane when they land.”
“That might be tricky,” Pete observed. “You do realise they might suspect I was conditioned, while I was in your custody?”
“It’s a possibility,” the Marine agreed. “But we’re running out of options.”
“You must be,” Pete said. Inwardly, he was impressed. Marines were always brave – that was a given, after Boot Camp and the Slaughterhouse – but it took guts to make a decision that could easily bring her career to an end. Hell, the local government might demand her head on a platter after she let him go. “I also don’t command all of the insurgent cells.”
“Do what you can,” the Marine said. She stood. “If the shit hits the fan, you will be released. I would suggest, quite strongly, that you took your people out of sight. If they walk up to the newcomers ...”
“They might be exterminated,” Pete said. Years ago, he’d served on a world that one of the giant interstellar corporations had wanted to bring under its wing. One particular group of rebels had been supported until they’d won the war, then they’d been quickly captured and shipped to penal worlds by their backers. “I don't know how many will follow my lead.”
He paused. “But I can give you a suggestion,” he added. “When you disperse your forces, disperse them into Riverside.”
She frowned. “Why ...?”
“The people who live there are the people they’ll want to take alive,” Pete said. “And you might be able to use them as human shields.”
Her face twisted, disgust warring with the grim understanding that it might be the only thing between her people and a quick death. He understood; human shields were weapons of the weak and dishonourable, not Marines and other honourable men. But there might be no alternative. Orbital bombardment would shatter her units if the enemy took control of the high orbitals.
“We shall see,” she said, finally.
Her wristcom buzzed. She glanced at it, automatically.
“I think we’re out of time,” she said, after a moment. Pete sat up, despite the cuffs. “A large enemy fleet has just entered the system.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Their solutions, as such, relied on far too many assumptions, starting with the simple assumption that it was possible to appease the aggressors. The social scientists created plans for reservations for each ethnic group, which were then forwarded to Imperial Army commanders with instructions to implement them immediately. Unsurprisingly, the reservations could not have been created save by the mass relocation of tens of thousands of people – which would be bitterly resisted. The plan floundered upon reality.
- Professor Leo Caesius. War in a time of ‘Peace:’ The Empire’s Forgotten Military History.
It felt good to command a fleet once again.
Rani allowed herself a tight smile as the fleet shook itself out and advanced towards Thule, making no attempt to hide its presence. She had wanted to command a fleet in action since she’d joined the Imperial Navy, but few of her fellow officers had ever had that chance. The Imperial Navy had been so overwhelmingly powerful, at least on the surface, that few had ever dared to challenge it directly. She wasn't just commanding a fleet, she was starting the first true interstellar war for over a thousand years. It was the very pinnacle of her professional career.
“Launch drones,” she ordered. “Get me a direct laser link with the hidden sensor pods.”
She watched as the display rapidly filled up with information. Thule was a valuable prize, by almost any definition. It wouldn't need years before the system became a productive part of the Wolfbane Consortium; it would only require a small number of occupation troops and some deals with the local corporations. Rani had no doubt the corporations would play ball, not when the alternative was mass deportations and the installation of a new ruling class. No corporate CEO had ever shown a trace of integrity. They’d sell out their workers in a heartbeat if it gained them one more iota of power.
And they will work for me, she thought. She’d learned a great deal from her stint as a military dictator – and, she wasn't afraid to admit, from Governor Brown himself. People without integrity could be manipulated into doing the dirty work, without forcing Rani to get to closely involved. They’d try to profit for themselves, of course, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that they did as they were told to do. And I will use this system as a base for my expansion.
She cast a greedy eye over the hundreds of asteroid mining stations and industrial nodes. A few weeks of occupation and they would all be working at maximum capacity, fuelling the assault on the Commonwealth. Rani had a great deal of confidence in her fleet t
rain, but having a base of operations a few light years closer to their ultimate target would be very useful. And it would even benefit Thule itself to become a war production node. The insurgency she’d supported would no longer have a cause for war.
Her lips curved into a cruel smile. There was one great advantage of supplying the insurgency; it ensured that the local government’s forces were drained before her forces ever started to land. And it pushed the local government to confiscate weapons, disarming a population that might become a major threat, given time. And it weakened the insurgency as well ... weakening the CEF was just the icing on the cake.
“Admiral,” the sensor officer said. “The long-range sensors report a Commonwealth squadron in high orbit near the planet.”
Rani nodded, pleased. She’d half-wondered if the Commonwealth would have pulled out completely – it didn't take a genius to work out that Thule was high on the list of principle targets – but having a chance to catch and destroy a small squadron of enemy starships was definitely something to exploit. It took months to construct even the smallest starship, ensuring that any losses she inflicted now might not be replaced before the war came to an end. And the Commonwealth would have the choice between fighting – and being destroyed – or abandoning the planet.
And if they take that option, she thought coldly, their allies will not trust them to defend their worlds.
“Keep us heading towards the planet,” she ordered. “Let them come to us if they want a fight.”
It would be hours, she knew, before the two fleets entered weapons range. The Commonwealth ships could avoid engagement easily, if they chose to do so. It wouldn't be difficult at all. But if she kept heading towards the planet, they’d have to choose between abandoning Thule and making a stand. And if they picked the latter, she would have a definite opportunity to destroy their entire squadron.
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