The Empire's Corps: Book 04 - Semper Fi

by Christopher Nuttall

  The fifth defector had been a crewman on Trafalgar before Admiral Singh had taken control. He'd confirmed that Admiral Singh had once been Commodore Singh, but he hadn't been able to add anything else to their growing stockpile of knowledge. Reading the transcript, Edward realised that the defector had been a loser, someone who had little ability or inclination to try to climb to higher positions. He was mildly surprised that Admiral Singh’s forces had even tolerated the man.

  He turned back to the transcript from Elliot Canada and read through it again carefully, considering the different possibilities. It wasn't a surprise that Corinthian had had a faction of the Democratic Underground on the planet, or that Admiral Singh had managed to eliminate most of its members within weeks of her arrival. But there would be remnants, surely. It was something that could probably be exploited, given time ...

  “Contact Captain Caesius and ask her to come to Castle Rock as soon as possible,” he ordered. “Once she confirms, invite Lieutenant Yamane and Sergeant Hampton to join us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gwendolyn said. “Do you have a plan?”

  “I very much hope so,” Edward said.

  It wasn't going to be easy – and it wasn't going to be something he could direct. In fact, he would have preferred a team of Pathfinders – or some of the even more secretive units – to handle the mission, one he could disavow if necessary. There was no way that he could take command; it would be far too revealing. Even allowing the junior lieutenant to take command was risky.

  But the risk is already present, he thought, and scowled. Every interrogation suggested that Admiral Singh was determined to snatch up as much territory as possible. There was no reason to believe that she would leave Avalon alone, particularly once she realised just how rapidly the Commonwealth was advancing. Edward had read her file carefully and realised that she was likely to be very dangerous. Anyone who had advanced so far in the Imperial Navy without powerful connections would be extremely competent indeed.

  “Captain Caesius says that she can be here in an hour,” Gwendolyn reported, tapping her wristcom. “Do you want to move the meeting to the secure room?”

  Edward nodded. “Post an armed guard outside,” he said, flatly. “We don’t want anyone to hear of this until it’s too late.”

  Gwendolyn smiled. “Does that include the President?”

  Edward hesitated. If the entire operation exploded in their face, which was a very strong possibility, Gaby would want to be able to swear blind that she hadn't known anything about it. On the other hand, she had insisted on knowing what was going on – and someone outside Castle Rock would have to know.

  “I’ll brief her personally,” he said, shaking his head. “After we have a working concept, that is. We may discover that the whole plan is unworkable.”

  He looked down at the transcript, scowling. How much time did they have before the shit hit the fan?

  Not enough, he thought, remembering the days when they’d moved from system to system, hunting the Admiral’s forces. A single mistake could have cost them everything. We never have enough time.

  Chapter Eight

  Worse, all of the dangers inherent in having a tyrant (with the possible exception of solving the succession crisis) also applied to having a monarch. A monarch could be influenced by his cronies, a monarch could change the rules at a whim – the stability often came with a high price tag. In effect, one problem had been solved, but the others remained in being.

  -Professor Leo Caesius, Authority, Power and the Post-Imperial Era

  “Jasmine!”

  Jasmine looked up in surprise and saw Mandy Caesius running towards her, wearing the blue uniform of the Commonwealth Navy. The girl still seemed surprisingly young, even though she’d been through hell back when she’d been a pirate captive – and slave. But then, she’d thrown herself into her new career in the navy, using it to overcome the scars on her soul.

  “Mandy,” she said, in honest delight. “I thought you weren't coming down until the evening!”

  “Colonel Stalker called me down,” Mandy said, as she wrapped her arms around Jasmine and hugged her tightly. “He didn't say why.”

  “He wouldn't have done,” Jasmine said, looking up at the main building. “Shall we go inside?”

  Mandy nodded, allowing Jasmine to lead the way into the building. The Marines on guard duty vetted them both – Jasmine couldn't help noticing that male eyes followed Mandy everywhere, despite the uniform – and pointed them towards the secure room. There were two more Marines on guard duty outside the room, both wearing light combat armour and carrying heavy rifles. Someone was taking security very seriously. Jasmine surrendered her terminal and wristcom to the guards – Mandy seemed more reluctant to surrender either – and stepped through the heavy door. Inside, the silence was almost deafening.

  “It’s quiet,” Mandy said, softly. Her voice sounded odd under the suppressor field. “Why are we here?”

  “You can't operate any surveillance equipment in a secure room,” Jasmine said. “If we happened to be carrying a bug, it wouldn't work in here.”

  The heavy door – almost an airlock – opened again, revealing Colonel Stalker, Sergeant Hampton and Command Sergeant Patterson. Jasmine stood to attention and saluted; Mandy followed, a little more hesitatingly. Powerful men who demanded respect reminded her far too much of the pirates – and how they’d treated her. Colonel Stalker, thankfully, understood – or at least didn't make an issue of it.

  “At ease,” Colonel Stalker ordered. “Please take a seat. We don’t have much time.”

  Jasmine obeyed, unable to avoid noticing how Mandy took the seat furthest away from the Colonel. She saw a flicker of sympathy on the Command Sergeant’s face before it was veiled behind a usual unreadable mask. Technically, Jasmine outranked the Command Sergeant, but she’d always looked up to the older woman. She’d forgotten more than Jasmine had ever learned as a Marine.

  “The situation is as follows,” Colonel Stalker said. He ran quickly through the full story, from the encounter with the refugees to the interviews with the prisoners – and defectors. “We must assume that Admiral Singh will attack as soon as she realises we exist – and because of the encounter with Proud, she is likely to realise sooner rather than later.”

  Jasmine nodded. Making sure that everyone was on the same page was tiresome – she’d attended too many briefings where the officers would say the same thing over and over again, just to make sure that it had been memorised. The Imperial Army had been particularly bad at briefing its troops. There were times when Jasmine had wondered how they all managed to go in the same direction once the operation was launched.

  “If it comes down to a straight fight, we will lose,” the Colonel continued. “The sheer disparity in firepower will see to that.”

  There was a faint gasp from Mandy. She’d spent the two years since her escape from the pirates helping to build the Commonwealth Navy. They’d done an amazing job, Jasmine knew, but they hadn't even begun to match a standard sector fleet’s tonnage. In hindsight, concentrating on light units might have been a mistake, even if they had needed to protect their shipping and purge the pirates from Commonwealth space.

  “But we have improved on many Imperial Navy systems,” Mandy protested. “Won’t they give us an advantage?”

  “Not enough of one,” Colonel Stalker said, quietly. “Admiral Singh will take more casualties than she expects, if she comes here, but she will win. Given a couple more years, we could prevent her from getting into range of the planet itself ...”

  He scowled. “We won’t have that time,” he warned them. “Right now, the clock is ticking. We have to act fast.”

  Jasmine nodded, although she honestly couldn't see what they could do.

  “Admiral Singh’s position seems to be basically insecure,” Colonel Stalker said. “There is good reason to believe that she faces opposition on Corinthian. The Democratic Underground might have been scattered, but there were other grou
ps on the planet – and new ones, now that she is holding the planet in an iron grip. We can use them to our advantage. Lieutenant” – Jasmine straightened to attention – “I want you to lead a team to Corinthian.”

  Jasmine blinked in surprise. “You want to help rebels?”

  “There is a certain irony, I admit,” Colonel Stalker said. “We fought to suppress a revolution on Avalon and now we’re attempting to encourage one, but I don’t see any other choice. If we can give Admiral Singh enough problems on her base of operations, she won’t be able to come after us.”

  “Buying enough time to build up our defences,” Mandy said.

  Jasmine frowned at her tone. There was a ... ruthlessness in Mandy, one that had developed after her time with the pirates. It bothered Jasmine, even though she knew that she would probably be accused of ruthlessness too. The girl who’d been a spoilt brat before coming to Avalon might well go over the line the Marines had been trained to avoid at all costs.

  “Quite,” Colonel Stalker said.

  “A little hard on the inhabitants,” Sergeant Hampton pointed out. His gruff voice seemed to capture their attention effortlessly. “She was quite willing to bombard Greenway into submission. What makes you think that she won’t do the same to Corinthian?”

  “It's her centre of operations,” Colonel Stalker said. “If she uses planetary bombardment, she’ll be hurting herself as much as she hurts the rebels.”

  “It’s not going to be pleasant for anyone,” Hampton said. “Even if she doesn’t use planetary bombardment, and I don’t think we can count on it, there are still hundreds of other ways to control a population, particularly one trapped on the planet. The rebels will be massively outgunned.”

  “I know,” Colonel Stalker said. “I just don’t see any other choice.”

  Jasmine considered the plan. If it worked, they would buy time for Avalon. But even if it succeeded, the damage to Corinthian’s population could be devastating. The Empire had plenty of experience in holding entire populations in bondage. Even slipping down to the planet could be incredibly difficult. If Admiral Singh was as competent as her file suggested, she would have purged all of the incompetent officers from her crews. That alone would boost efficiently and morale by an order of magnitude.

  It would be devastating. But she couldn't think of anything else.

  “They have a cloudscoop,” Mandy pointed out. “Why don’t we destroy it?”

  Colonel Stalker gave the younger girl an oddly respectful look. “Not a bad idea,” he said, “but they’d have their cloudscoop as heavily guarded as our own. Slipping close enough to destroy it might be difficult.”

  “Besides, they have other cloudscoops,” Sergeant Hampton added. “And probably vast stockpiles of HE3.”

  Jasmine nodded. The Rim might not be able to produce much HE3, but the systems closer to the Core Worlds were each supposed to have a cloudscoop of their own. Given how easy it was to operate the scoops once they’d been built, it was simple to build up a stockpile in case of emergency. Earth, according to rumour, had built up billions of tons of HE3, hiding the supplies on the edge of the system. Admiral Singh might be hurt if they took out the cloudscoop, but it wouldn’t prove fatal.

  “It’s worth bearing in mind,” she mused, out loud.

  “Mandy will take command of one of the light freighters,” Colonel Stalker said, “with a crew made up of disguised naval personnel. Officially, the ship will be registered to Williamson’s Freehold, which will disguise her origins neatly. The cover story will say that the crew was stranded for several months in an isolated system, then obtained some fuel and headed to Corinthian in hopes of buying more.”

  Mandy coughed. “We might want to suggest that the freighter is buying HE3 for the system,” she said. “That would give us a good reason to visit Corinthian.”

  “You can work out the cover story,” Colonel Stalker said. “Just make sure that it holds enough water to avoid attracting suspicion.”

  Jasmine smiled at Mandy’s expression. The Marine Corps delegated as much as possible to the officers on the spot; having Mandy, who would have to carry out the mission, construct her own cover story made a certain kind of sense. Jasmine would check the story, of course, but it would be Mandy’s responsibility.

  “You need to get the team down to the planet,” Colonel Stalker continued. He looked over at Jasmine. “I can't tell you what to expect when you get down to the surface. The defectors don’t know the current state of affairs. We also might not be able to get any messages or supplies to you once you’re down.”

  “And if you’re captured,” Hampton added, “Admiral Singh’s people will likely shoot you out of hand.”

  “It is a known risk,” Jasmine said. “We won’t be in uniform.”

  She scowled. There were ways to slip through a planet’s orbital defence network, but they were risky as hell. A single mistake could draw attention from the planet’s defenders and then they would be dead.

  “We’re going to need to spend some time lurking in the outer edge of the system, gathering intelligence, before committing ourselves,” she added. “We might also want to cause a diversion to distract them when we enter the planet’s atmosphere.”

  “It’s in your hands,” Colonel Stalker assured her. “You may call upon anything you require from the stores.”

  “We might need a second freighter,” Jasmine said, slowly. She would have to call the platoon back to barracks and then go over the basic concept with them. Blake and Joe – she winced as she remembered that Joe wouldn't be coming with them – had more experience than herself. They might well have a few ideas for making the whole idea work properly. “Can we draw some missile pods too?”

  “Just older missiles,” Colonel Stalker said. He held up a hand. “I don’t think I need to remind you that this is not to be discussed outside your platoon.”

  Jasmine nodded. “Can we take Mr. Canada with us?”

  “I’ve already agreed to escort him,” Sergeant Hampton said. “If he causes trouble ...”

  He drew a finger across his throat. Jasmine rolled her eyes.

  “Sergeant Hampton has been reactivated for the duration of the crisis,” Colonel Stalker said. “He and two of the other escapees have volunteered to accompany you – the others will be routed into the defence force here.”

  “Seniority won’t be a problem,” Hampton assured her. “I can happily go back to being a Rifleman if you wish.”

  “Sergeant will do for now,” Jasmine said, concealing her amusement. Retired Marines often didn't stay retired. “You can be responsible for looking after the rest of your people until we check you out on the equipment.”

  She scowled. Taking Marine combat armour to Corinthian would be far too revealing if Admiral Singh’s forces discovered them. There were some ex-Imperial Army battlesuits they’d captured from the pirates, but they weren't in very good condition, although they did have the advantage that they didn't have to be personalised. But then, if they showed up with a large amount of weapons and equipment, hard questions would be asked in any case. Admiral Singh probably didn't like the thought of people carrying weapons on her world.

  “You can set the mission up,” Colonel Stalker said. “Just keep me informed of your decisions.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jasmine said. She felt a strange mixture of excitement and fear; it was exciting, something she’d never done before ... but at the same time, it was terrifying. There would be no support to help her or her Marines escape the consequences of her own mistakes. “When do you want us to depart?”

  “Within the week,” Colonel Stalker told her. “I don’t want to give Admiral Singh any more time to realise that she’s lost a ship than we can avoid.”

  “Understood,” Jasmine said. She scowled as another thought struck her. “The platoon will miss Joe Buckley’s wedding, unless we can bring it forward ...”

  “I can perform the ceremony at any time,” Colonel Stalker said, wryly. “Tell him ... tell
him that the platoon has to leave within the week and ask if he wants to move the ceremony forward. If he agrees, we can alter the other schedules to accommodate the guests he wanted to invite.”

  Jasmine nodded. The plan had been to hold a private, Marines-only ceremony on Castle Rock and then hold a more public ceremony in Camelot. Joe Buckley might have to go weeks between the two ceremonies, but ... she smiled, ruefully. If he didn't want to change either, she would support his decision.

  Colonel Stalker looked over at Mandy. “Do you understand what you have to do?”

  “I’ll coordinate with Jasmine,” Mandy said. She sounded a little nervous, now that she’d finally realised just what they were trying to do. “Two freighters ... they’re both going to have to be old build. We might want to bring a stealthed destroyer along as well.”

  “Send me the list of requirements and I will approve it,” Colonel Stalker said. He stood up, formally ending the meeting. “Don’t fuck up.”

  Jasmine nodded. “No, sir,” she said. “We won’t.”

  She looked over at Sergeant Hampton. “I’ll be holding a full muster of the platoon this evening,” she added. “You and your friends – and Mr. Canada - are welcome to come, but we’ll be going into lockdown immediately afterwards until we depart. Make sure they understand that, all right?”

  “I’ll make them understand,” Sergeant Hampton said. “After what we went through on Greenway, I’m sure we can endure a few days of lockdown.”

  Jasmine stepped through the hatch and recovered her terminal and wristcom from the guards. The terminal bleeped, informing her that Sergeant Harris had taken most of the platoon out for a punishing run around Castle Rock, leaving her feeling oddly guilty that she hadn't joined them. But then, she had been summoned to face the Colonel instead ...