As directed by Admiral Dietrich, the media had accompanied the investigators on all phases of the inquiry. Names of the accused and witnesses were withheld pending trials and results, but all else was written up in great detail. Dietrich knew once this news spread throughout the Badlands, many planets and their corporation overlords would review the way they did business. When the final verdicts were in and the numbers were tallied up, everyone would see how serious this operation was in uncovering wrongdoing. There would be a change of methods on many planets. Nobody wanted to be next in line for a visit from Dietrich.
As part of this series of media reports, Commander Steiner had given a summation of his initial investigation to reporters. Kid Winkler and his friend, Thelma, were central figures in his account. To prevent retaliation, the Goths had taken those two out of the Longwall prison prior to the story’s publication. In addition to giving them credit, Steiner also had a parole, signed by Admiral Hochstadt, for the Kid and Thelma. They were then taken by a Goth destroyer to Lorelei.
Impressed by their contribution to the cleaning up of Bolindale, Destiny Flores offered both of them a job at Destiny’s. They accepted. Kid Winkler even promised to give up his life of crime and Thelma promised to ensure he kept his promise.
Even as the investigations continued, the trials began for those charged earlier in the process. Dietrich was satisfied that the inquiry was well established with plenty of support among the Bolindale’s populace. He returned to his battlecruiser Lowe with Steiner, leaving an Imperial Army colonel in charge on the planet. The officer was supported by his soldiers, fifty bureaucrats and lawyers from Rosstrappe, and hundreds of volunteers from the local population. Dietrich was comfortable the process had momentum now and would be successful. He also thought it would be ongoing for two to three more months, and he couldn’t devote that much time to one planet’s problems. Blue Squadron returned to Rosstrappe.
Chapter 43
“On long-range sensors,” announced Tactical.
“Very well,” replied Raferty from his captain’s chair. Still two hours away from the target, the mood on the bridge was relaxed. The time element was part of that, but the perception that this was an easy mission was a contributor to the atmosphere. Rafe hoped that was true. He thought it was but, as the mission commander, he couldn’t afford to rest on that assumption. He looked at his tac screen. It was as he expected it to be. The array was there as a single large return. There were no visiting ships. There were no ships in any direction except for Drake on the edge of the screen. It was all good unless there was something on the far side of the array that was not on sensors yet.
Of course, the pirates would be on the array’s screens now. The array’s crew would be verifying their readings and checking ship schedules, hoping the twelve ships were an incoming Goth squadron. The crew would review all available data and reluctantly conclude the incoming force was unscheduled. Now they would hope it was somebody just passing by, but they would prepare for the worst. Soon enough the array would ask for identification, discrete code words, and squawks assigned to Goth warships. When their hails went unanswered, they would know their day was about to take a turn for the worse.
The calls started coming at the one-hour mark. Nobody replied, and the calls ceased after ten minutes. They would try again every fifteen minutes or so, but the array crew knew what was coming. Of course, they had no idea why.
At thirty minutes from firing, Rafe ordered battle formation. Wolfpack slid below Alpha Squadron and Charlie took up station under Wolfpack. The four ships in each squadron formed a single line abreast of each other. Now all twelve ships had a clear firing lane forward.
Time ticked by as Raferty made the rounds to talk to each of the bridge crew. He resumed his seat with ten minutes remaining. Weapons systems were checked and rechecked. People buckled into their seats. Personal survival masks were strapped to the body. Raferty slid his left leg over the left arm of the chair and right elbow on the right arm. He settled his chin in his right palm.
The countdown was on each tac screen, but still, Tactical counted it down out loud. At zero, missiles went downrange and the cries of “Predator, Predator, Predator!” echoed through the ship. All Flot 1 ships fired at the same moment and a steady stream of missile homed in on the array hub. The long range allowed the defenders several minutes to organize their response. They didn’t need the time. Immediately, missiles started coming off the five missile floaters.
“Interceptors,” said Tactical to nobody in particular.
She was right. When the two streams of missiles merged, the array missiles knocked out the majority of the incoming attack. The surviving missiles continued toward their target with gaps in their lines. These projectiles entered the minefield. The defenders did not immediately detonate mines but did start shifting them around. Raferty could see what was coming. “They’ll blow the mines closest to themselves to allow max time to shift mines over.”
“Smart move,” Tactical agreed. “They’ll blow the outer mines as needed for cover as they make adjustments.”
The defenders blew the mines closest to the hub to take out the lead missiles. Mines began moving as they were shifted to counter the continuing flow of incoming missiles. The ships closed on the array, and the pirate missiles were getting closer to target before getting taken out by the defense. Soon the missiles were within range of the gun floaters, and they came alive shooting canister rounds. Clouds of pellets exploded in the path of the oncoming missiles. The battle assumed a predictable rhythm. Pirates’ missiles were speeding toward target. Defensive missiles had taken out some, guns took out more, and exploding mines were trying to buy time by interrupting the flow further upstream toward the pirate ships. The defense was working now but, much like trying to hold back a rising flood, the end result would not be denied.
“Once we get in gun range of the minefield, all ships will start taking out the mines with all gun turrets,” ordered Hawkins over the command net.
Hyatt Renaldo at the comm station reported, “Incoming from Drake—the Goth light cruiser is cutting across the edge of her sensors, aiming directly at us. She is about two and a half standard hours away.”
“Thank you,” Rafe replied mechanically. “Please thank Drake for the warning.”
Rafe spun in his chair to face Tactical. She anticipated his question. “At the current rate of closure on target, missile impact on the first floater in forty minutes.” Raferty nodded and swung back around.
The battle progressed as predicted by Tactical. The pirate flotilla closed to gun range on the minefield and began taking them out before they could be detonated. The ships continued to move toward the hub. The number of incoming missiles was slowly overwhelming the limited defense. The light cruiser appeared on Flot 1 sensors two hours out. Raferty was unconcerned. They would be gone before the cruiser could get here and, if the cruiser followed him, he would drop a few ships into subspace to wait for her.
Forty minutes after Tactical’s prediction, the first three missiles hit a missile floater. The platform spun under the three impacts and drifted slowly out of line. The loss of the first floater was followed by the destruction of two more. The defense was being degraded now, and the rate of destruction would increase. The issue was never in doubt, but now, it was quite obvious.
“Cease fire,” Rafe ordered over his command net.
All ships stop firing although a steady current of missiles already fired continued downrange. With the end of incoming missiles, the defenders were able to knock down the last remnants of the attack.
“Hail them, please,” Hawkins said to Renaldo.
A burly, bearded man came on screen. He was red-faced and sweaty as if from exercise or a physically taxing job. He was dark skinned, dark haired, and decidedly unhappy.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
Hawkins responded in a light tone, “Raferty Hawkins of the pirate vessel Predator. Who are you?”
The man sta
red with no expression and then replied, “Andre Schneider, head of shift 3 for the Crystal Comm Array. Before you kill us, perhaps you would care to tell us how we offended you.”
“Oh, you haven’t offended us at all,” answered Rafe. “We’re just driving home a point to Green Squadron.”
Schneider was puzzled. “How does killing us drive home a point to Green Squadron?”
“It shows how Green Squadron has failed in its duty to protect you,” Hawkins said in a conversational voice. “And we aren’t going to kill you. In fact, the attack is over.”
Schneider now allowed himself a cautious, slight smile. “I have heard of you and been told you are a man of your word. The attack is over?”
“Yes, our point was to prove we could take you out if we wanted and that Green Squadron has failed in its duty to protect you.”
Schneider nodded. “As luck would have it, we were just commenting on their lack of an appearance when you ceased firing at us. Apparently, they have more important things to do than protect us.”
“Yes, protecting slave ships in convoys seems to take precedent over guarding one of the most important comm stations is the quadrant. Who knew?”
“Well, we sure as hell didn’t. I can assure you of that,” Schneider said, and then he leaned toward the screen. “Guarding slave ships? We do get news out here. After all, we are a comm station, but nobody said anything about an adjustment in priorities for the Greenies. Also, it’s the first we are hearing about convoy duty.”
Hawkins said, “That’s because it is a self-generated tasking by Admiral Muller, so I doubt there is paperwork on it anywhere. Maybe at Rosstrappe, but not out in the general arena. Right now, he has half his squadron covering a convoy and the other half scattered across his AOR. You seem to be far down his list of priorities, so he ran out of ships before he got to you. You didn’t make the cut.”
Schneider pursed his lips and furrowed his brow as he thought. He then remarked, “I guess I’ll have to talk to Admiral Muller myself and to his boss Admiral Hochstadt and see if we can jump up a few rungs on the priority list.”
“I wish you luck,” Rafe answered. “By the way, your defensive measures were quite good. I especially like the use of the inner mines to stop missiles while keeping the outer mines intact for future use and emergencies. Nicely done.”
Schneider shrugged. “One of our young kids set this up. We sent him to a security course to learn all that stuff and now he thinks he’s Napoleon or something.” Schneider smiled now. “I guess the kid learned something after all. Probably will want a raise now.”
Hawkins smiled too. “I like seeing people enjoying their jobs. Tell him well done from us.”
“I will. You seem to enjoy your job. Been at it for lots of years now if the stories are true.”
“It’s a living. Hopefully, it will never become a dying.”
Rafe looked down at his tac screen. “To give Green Squadron some due, there’s a light cruiser on the edge of our screens galloping this way. She will be on your screens shortly.”
Schneider smirked, “Oh, that will make up for everything. One goddamn light cruiser. It will take you about a whole five minutes to kick the hell out of that ship.”
Hawkins shook his head. “Actually, we’re leaving. If you want to have them feeling good about themselves, you can tell them they scared us off.”
Now Schneider shook his head. “I have absolutely no desire to help the Goths feel good right now.” He paused and added, “Have a good trip. I would say it was a pleasure, but I’d be lying.”
“I completely understand and am not offended in the least. Do be well, sir.”
Schneider gave a slight smile. “Since you’re all leaving, I think our chances of doing that just went up dramatically.”
“I hope we didn’t inconvenience you too much.”
Schneider thought for a moment and said, “Nobody is hurt or dead. It broke up the dull routine and gave us a good story to tell everyone. Let’s call it even. Besides, we never stopped doing our job of communicating, even while under attack. I write us up as some sort of heroes, so it’s all fine. Of course, I have to put in a requisition for more mines, missiles, gun ammo, and three new floaters.”
“I suspect they will give you more than three. Take care.” Raferty terminated the connection. He looked at Eli at the helm. “Eli, come to port. We’ll go out away from the cruiser. If she wants to chase us, we’ll get her later.”
Flot 1 turned to port and departed.
Chapter 44
The Emperor of the Goldenes Tor Empire stood at the large window in his library. He stared at the huge garden beyond the window. Normally he would be walking in the garden, but the heavy rain precluded that. It fell in solid sheets as the low, dark clouds made the day feel like dusk although it was early afternoon. The Emperor’s mood was as black as the weather. He had two problems to sort through. The first was government policy and had been ongoing for many months. The second was largely personal and had just exploded onto the scene.
Viktor Aurick was a tall, thin man. He had long dark hair that he brushed straight back. He hid part of his narrow face behind a thick black mustache that was called a Fu Manchu on Earth. He dressed in expensive suits that hung loosely on his gaunt frame. People seeing him for the first time often wondered if he was recovering from a disease. They thought that until they saw him move. He had the grace and fluidity of a cat on the hunt. People always remembered that about him.
They also remembered his one striking physical feature. His eyes were dark and seemed slightly too large for his thin face. He had the ability to make them reflect his mood for all to see or to hide his mood perfectly. His eyes were a perfect trap. More than one person thought they had the Emperor figured out by watching his eyes only to discover, to their detriment, that what they saw was not true at all.
Viktor had steered his empire clear of the raging war between the Orion Confederation and the Aurora Empire. The OrCons had made inquiries before the war to learn how the Goldenes Tor would react if, hypothetically, somehow, some way, maybe, a war started with the Zekes. At that time, Viktor made it clear that his Goldenes Tor would stay neutral if, hypothetically, a war started between the other two entities.
During that prewar discussion time, the Emperor had resisted the push of several of his advisors and high-ranking military people to offer to join the OrCons in their war against the Zekes. He saw no outcome that would benefit his kingdom. The most likely outcome was victory over the Aurora Empire. In that case, the OrCons, after providing the majority of the victorious forces, would want the majority of the gains from the war’s end. Both victors would benefit, but the OrCons would get the lion’s share of territory, raw materials, technology, and financial benefits. The gap between the Orions and the Goldenes Tor would be wider than it was before the war, and there would be no Aurora Empire as a balancing force. In the post-war era, the only possible threat to the Orion Confederation would be the Goldenes Tor. Would the OrCons live with that status quo or would they decide to sweep the board clean? The Emperor thought the latter option was most likely. If the OrCons were willing to do a sneak attack on the Aurora Empire, a much more dangerous opponent, it was reasonable to assume they would have no qualms over hitting the Goldenes Tor. The OrCons would be battle-tested and using their own ships and ships they took from the Aurora Empire. They would have the greater forces, veteran military people, and well vetted military commanders. They would have learned from their mistakes in the recent war and would not make many new ones. No way that ends well for the Goldenes Tor and its smaller military.
If the Aurora Empire war resulted in a stalemate, the future would be ever-expanding military budgets, casualty lists, and continuous fighting. Even if the fighting stopped through sheer exhaustion, there would always be the threat of flare-ups and sneak attacks. His Empire would be in a constant state of alert. No society could stand long periods of such a situation. People would inevitably want change and
peace. The Emperor knew his history and that many ruling families had lost their power, their lands, and their lives when a strong desire for change, fueled by war weariness, swept through an empire.
Of course, losing the war to the Aurora Empire would be the worst result. Loss of ships and people in the war would be followed by loss of territory, humiliation, war reparations, and an embittered populace. Again, the people would want change and revenge against the government that brought this about. He was head of that government.
The Emperor opted for neutrality. If both sides exhausted themselves in the current war and it ended in a stalemate, there could be opportunities for selling a variety of products to each combatant and a free hand in some of the border areas claimed by several political entities. A possibility of gains and enrichment without the risk was always an attractive possibility. In the end, the Emperor’s view prevailed and neutrality became the Goldenes Tor course of action. His government did get the OrCons to attack a small Royal Navy squadron in a disputed area known by the rather fanciful name of the Badlands in exchange for Goldenes Tor promises not to help the Zekes in any way. The Emperor was not sure why that needed to happen, but his nephew had been the prime force behind that idea so he had let it slide. The OrCons eliminating a Zeke squadron in an area that the Goldenes Tor claimed in exchange for the neutrality that was already going to happen anyway was quite acceptable as far as he was concerned.
But that had all occurred just over a standard year ago. Now intelligence reports suggested the OrCons had missed their golden opportunity to win the war in the first six months, and there was change in the wind. The OrCons were still winning, but their momentum had slowed to a crawl. The Zekes were switching to a wartime economy and soon their factories would be providing mountains of equipment and weapons. Their military was expanding and their leadership was shaking out the dead weight as they tried to figure out who their successful commanders should be. Apparently, the OrCons got the same intel reports as Viktor did, and they were getting uneasy about their prospects. They had gladly accepted the neutrality of the Goldenes Tor at the war’s outset but had recently become increasingly generous in their promises of war booty and post-war treatment if the Goldenes Tor joined them against the Zekes. This increase in generosity only confirmed Viktor’s belief in his course of neutrality. Many of his advisors and military leaders were being lured in by the ever-sweetening deal, but Viktor held firm on the Goldenes Tor remaining neutral.
Duty and Obligation Page 31
