He finished his coffee, then returned to his paperwork. General George Grosskopf would take command on Avalon, in his absence, but he needed to tie up as many loose ends as possible before he departed. The various secret programs, so highly-classified that even Grosskopf didn't know they existed, had to be given orders covering every imaginable contingency, up to and including his death. He hoped - prayed - that there would be no trouble appointing Grosskopf as his successor, but he knew it wouldn't be easy. He’d started his career in the Civil Guard, after all.
His intercom bleeped. “Sir, Commodore Caesius is here to see you.”
Ed glanced at the clock, then nodded. Commodore Mandy Caesius was twenty minutes early, but it didn't matter that much. Unlike Ed - or Jasmine - her problems were surprisingly simple. Either she had her opportunity to catch Admiral Singh with her pants down or she didn’t. There was no middle ground.
“Send her in,” he ordered. “And then hold my calls.”
“Aye, sir.”
The door opened. Ed rose in welcome, smiling at the young woman as she stepped into his office. It was hard, sometimes, to draw a line between the red-haired bratty teenage girl he’d met years ago and the competent naval officer facing him, but Mandy had had a harder path than far too many of her comrades. He would have hated her on Earth, he acknowledged, yet Avalon had been the making of her. And yet ... there was a hardness in the young woman that worried him, sometimes.
She should have had months of therapy, after her return from pirate captivity, he thought, as they exchanged salutes. But instead we put her back to work.
“Commodore,” he said. Mandy closed the door, then sat down in front of his desk. “I trust the planning session went well?”
“Well enough,” Mandy said. “There are some issues that need to be explored further, but overall the squadron should be ready to do its duty.”
Ed nodded. “No problems?”
“We will need to source additional supplies,” Mandy warned. “A short engagement won’t be a problem, but a long series of engagements is likely to cost us dearly. We certainly can’t rely on drawing supplies from Corinthian.”
“Of course not,” Ed agreed. “Can you arrange freighter space?”
“Yes, but we’ll need an interstellar supply dump,” Mandy said. “Keeping the freighters will cause problems elsewhere.”
Ed scowled. The Commonwealth had been producing its own freighters for the last four years, but there were nowhere near enough freighter bottoms to move everything the Commonwealth needed to move. Even with the help of the Trade Federation, there just wasn't enough to go around. The war was putting an ungodly strain on a structure that wasn't designed for such intensive overuse. Logistics were rapidly shaping up to be yet another Achilles Heel.
“We’ll send them back once the supply dumps are established,” he said. “Are there any other considerations?”
“It depends on just what Admiral Singh sends to take the planet,” Mandy said. “Our cruisers are worth two of theirs, perhaps more, but she does have a numerical advantage. And if she wants Corinthian as much as you think, she’ll send battleships too. They’re old, but they have substantial firepower.”
“True,” Ed agreed. He’d read the reports from the shipbuilding commission. They had a design for battleships, but they’d warned that the design would eat up far too much of the Commonwealth’s resources for limited returns. “Can you handle them?”
“It depends on how they’ve been modified, sir,” Mandy said. “The last set of reports from a skirmish suggested that the Wolves have managed to produce and deploy improved missiles and seeker warheads. They’re closing the gap between us. No sign of force shields yet, but my people think it’s only a matter of time.”
“I know,” Ed grunted. “They know it’s possible, don’t they?”
“They do now,” Mandy confirmed. She shivered. “Realistically, sir, if they close the gap a little more we’re going to be in deep trouble.”
Ed winced. Mandy, like Jasmine, had been captured ... but while the Wolves had been fairly civilised the pirates had been nothing of the sort. She’d managed to escape, crippling their starship as she left, yet the whole experience had scarred her badly. And yet, it had also given her a purpose. There was no one more ruthless in hunting down pirate bases and destroying them than Mandy Caesius.
“Then we will just have to try and stay ahead of them,” he said. “Are there any other issues of concern?”
“My mother has invited my sister and myself to dinner, four days from now,” Mandy said, slowly. “Is that going to be a problem?”
Ed hesitated. Technically, he should refuse to allow her to attend, but Mandy couldn't be kept on Castle Rock. She was splitting her time between the ships assembling in orbit and the training facilities near Camelot. Putting her in the lockbox would merely hamper his plans and add nothing to his security. And everyone attending the dinner would understand the value of keeping their mouths shut ...
“Remember the rules,” he said, firmly. “I don’t want a single security breach.”
“I understand, sir,” Mandy said. “And thank you.”
“Have your ships ready to depart on schedule,” Ed ordered. “That will be thanks enough, I believe.”
Mandy rose. “I’ll do my best, sir,” she said. “And thank you again.”
Ed watched her go, making a mental note to check up on her when he had the time. Mandy had been through hell, a more hellish experience, in many ways, than himself. The Slaughterhouse had been bad, particularly the sections covering conduct after capture, but Mandy had never had any such training herself. He wouldn't have blamed her if she’d wanted to return to Avalon and never fly back into space, if she’d made that choice. And yet she was still fighting ...
Better that than submission and surrender, he thought, tartly. She’s very definitely a fighter.
He returned to his paperwork, working hard to tie up the final loose ends. Grosskopf would be formally taking command tomorrow, allowing them a chance to work out any problems before Ed departed for Corinthian. He’d have to be briefed into the secret too, Ed reminded himself; he trusted Grosskopf too, but the problem was still the same. The more people who knew, the greater the chance of an accidental leak. And while he wouldn't mind taunting Singh, there was always the prospect of her deciding it was better to concentrate on breaking through the inner defence line and mopping up Corinthian later.
It’s what I would do, Ed reminded himself. But then, his career hadn't been marred by unpleasant superior officers. In some ways, Admiral Singh and Mandy had a great deal in common. She’ll want to rub their nose in their failure to keep her down ...
The terminal bleeped, again. “Sir, General Mathis is here.”
“Send him in,” Ed ordered.
He ground his teeth in frustration. Life had been so much easier when he’d been a mere captain of marines. Now, he spent half his time doing battle with bureaucracy and the greatest danger he faced was a paper cut. He’d have to make certain to spend time on the training ground himself, just to make sure he hadn't slacked. It had been far too long since he’d led men in combat. And to think he’d resisted the opportunity to take command for himself several times, just to ensure he had more experienced officers ...
You do need experienced officers, his thoughts mocked him. But you don’t want to lose your edge either.
He pushed the thought aside as General Crichton Mathis entered the room, one hand snapping up in salute. Ed rose, studying the older man carefully. Mathis had been a Civil Guard officer, which was a black mark on his record, but he had commanded a regiment during the Cracker War and the Battle of Camelot. And his men thought well of him, which was a good sign. The Civil Guard on Avalon had been good enough to hold the line, even if they hadn't been able to destroy their enemies. If they hadn't, they would have lost the war long ago.
“General,” he said. It was odd, issuing orders to a man who held a higher rank than himself, but
he’d never chosen to grant himself anything higher than colonel. “Please, be seated.”
Mathis, a short man with a bulldog face, nodded curtly. “Yes, sir.”
“You know the mission,” Ed said. He’d spoken to Mathis personally, after the first planning session. “How quickly can the CEF be ready to depart?”
“We can have the advance units loaded onto ships within the day,” Mathis said. He would have worked it out already, Ed was sure. Competent officers always planned for the worst, even as they hoped for the best. “The heavier units will require a couple of days to box up their gear, then another four or five days to load the ships. We can speed matters up, if necessary, by requisitioning supplies intended for the front lines.”
“Very good,” Ed said. Mentally, he added an extra day or two to the schedule. In his experience, nothing ever went like clockwork. Loading even a small military unit onto a starship could produce all kinds of headaches. “I want you to give your men five days of leave, then start preparing for departure.”
Mathis raised his bushy eyebrows. “Five days?”
“The remainder of the supplies won’t be ready until then,” Ed said. The CEF’s transports didn't have stasis tubes, unlike the MEUs the Marine Corps had used to move its men and supplies around the Empire. There was no point in torturing his men by moving them to the ships before it was strictly necessary. “Once they’re ready and loaded, we can proceed with the remainder of the loading.”
“Yes, sir,” Mathis said. “Do we have an official cover story?”
“I believe there’s no need to make an explicit announcement,” Ed said. Admiral Singh’s spies would be more likely to believe something that looked like an attempted cover-up, even if it wasn't. “The men can be told they’re going on deployment - again - but there’s no need for anything else.”
“Yes, sir,” Mathis said.
Ed nodded. “Morale?”
Mathis showed the first hint of hesitation. “Most of the old sweats survived Thule, sir, and want a little payback,” he said. “There were some ... issues, because of the retreat, but overall they believe they’ve done well. The newcomers are less experienced, mostly; I’ve been keeping a pretty heavy training tempo going for the last two weeks. I think they’ll perform well in combat.”
“Good,” Ed said. He kept his doubts to himself. No one ever knew how well a unit would perform until it saw the elephant, by which time it might be too late. “Are there any other issues I should know about?”
“There’s some concern about leaving Avalon undefended,” Mathis admitted, “but the sergeants have that well in hand. Most of the disciplinary actions have been fairly minor, too; a few incidents of drunkenness and a couple of idiots who fell asleep on watch. They were all handled in-unit.”
“Very good,” Ed said.
He nodded in approval. The knights had copied that from the marines, rather than the Imperial Army or the Civil Guard. They wouldn't regret it, either. The Empire had had far too many problems when minor disciplinary issues had to be kicked up the chain to senior officers, even when they could be handled by the sergeants and junior officers.
“See to your men, General,” he added. “I fancy they’re about to face one hell of a test.”
“Yes, sir,” Mathis said. He rose, saluting smartly. “I think they’ll look forward to it.”
Chapter Seven
Indeed, their war against the planetary government was slowly losing steam. The combination of debt-relief and new soldiers - raised, trained and paid by the marines - was slowly draining their forces.
- Professor Leo Caesius. The Role of Randomness In War.
The sight before her, Mandy Caesius had to admit, was one she would never have seen on Earth. Hundreds of little houses, small gardens in front and larger gardens behind, lining a street as neatly as soldiers on parade. She’d hated the house, the first time she’d set foot in it, throwing a tantrum that had made her mother take to her bed in dismay and her younger sister flee into the garden. Now, as a serving officer, she understood just how lucky she’d been to have the house ... and to leave Earth, before it was too late. She wished, desperately, that she could go back in time and slap her younger self silly. She’d deserved far worse.
She parked the groundcar outside, then climbed out, breathing in the evening air. Avalon had smelled odd to her, when they’d first landed, but now it was normal. Earth’s ever-present stench of burning hydrocarbons and far too many humans in close proximity was gone, as was the poison in the air. She honestly didn't want to think about just how much crap she’d breathed into her system, once upon a time. Being exiled to Avalon was the smartest thing her father had ever done. And even though she’d hated being separated from her friends, she had come to realise that it had saved her life. None of her friends would have survived the Fall of Earth.
The door opened. “Mandy,” Mindy called. “Come on! Dinner is waiting!”
Mandy shook her head in disbelief as she saw her younger sister for the first time in nearly a year. Mindy had always been more sporty than her - Mandy had never seen the point of ruining her body through excessive activity - but now she was muscular and lithe, remarkably like Jasmine in so many ways. Her head had been shaved completely, giving her an intimidating appearance that her green eyes did nothing to lighten. She would have been laughed at on Earth, Mandy was sure, but she would have been safe. And that was worth any amount of laughter.
“It's been too long,” she said, feeling an odd lump in her throat. “What have you been doing with yourself?”
“I’m a stormtrooper now,” Mindy said. She gave Mandy a tight hug, tight enough to make the older girl grunt in pain. “I was lucky to be able to come, really. We’re shipping out in a week or so.”
Mandy nodded slowly as her younger sister turned to lead the way into the house. Mindy had to be going to Corinthian, although it was unlikely she knew very much about their destination. It bothered her more than she cared to admit, really. Mindy was her little sister, someone she was supposed to look after ...
We never really got over being on Earth, she thought, as she followed her sister, closing the door behind her. None of us really recovered from spending our early lives on a hellish world.
She pushed the thought aside and walked into the living room. The walls were covered in bookshelves and a fire burned in the grate, something that would have been flatly forbidden on Earth. Hell, they would both have been flatly forbidden on Earth. Digital records could be altered with ease, but print records were much harder to edit. The current trend for paper books on Avalon had always struck her as absurd, yet there might well be a point to it. No one wanted to give a government - any government - that much power for a second time.
“Mandy,” her father said. “Welcome home.”
He looked old, Mandy realised, as he rose from his chair. She'd known he was a good thirty years older than her - her parents had waited to have children until they were both settled - but she’d never really understood it at an emotional level. They - Mindy too - had spent too much of their lives rebelling against their parents, against what little discipline their father and mother had tried to impose on them. The idea of seeing their parents as people ... it wasn't something that would have occurred to them. But now ...
“Father,” she said, feeling her voice catch. “Are you well?”
“We’ve bought an entertainment box,” her father said, wryly. “And I’ve spent too much time watching it.”
Mandy snorted. Her father had never allowed her to have an entertainment box, even though all her friends had had them. She’d thrown hundreds of tantrums over it, she recalled; her younger self had been a right little brat. But now, with a real career, she no longer felt the impulse to sit down in front of the box and just wallow. Almost everything that passed for entertainment in the last decade of the Empire was alternatively vile, perverse, or a distraction to keep the plebs from thinking for themselves. And it was very good at keeping people distr
acted.
“I’m old,” her father added. He gave her a gentle hug, then pulled her towards the table. “I don’t know how long I’ll live, even here.”
“You’re only fifty,” Mindy said. “There are people here who have lived for nearly a century.”
“Here,” her father corrected. “Not on Earth.”
Mandy swallowed. They’d never been upper class, but they had had a good life ... until her father published a book that drew the ire of the Grand Senate. And yet, very few people on Earth lived past sixty. The support they needed just didn't exist. But on Avalon, where people were generally friendly and helpful ...
“I’m sure you’ll live a long time,” she said. She cursed her younger self, once again. All the time she could have gotten to know her father, wasted! “Dad ...”
“Don’t worry about it,” her father said. “I can't say I’ve done as much as you over the past seven years.”
They Shall Not Pass (The Empire's Corps Book 12) Page 7