Audacity (Warner's World Book 5)

by Dave O'Connor

  “Deal with it Jella. Whatever it takes.”

  Chapter 2. Spectre to Casaverie 1645, 17 August

  Sheldon Brice looked around the briefing room and saw only tired minds. They had been at it all day. In fact this was the fifth straight day of simulation exercises. He hadn’t been all that impressed with his officers. They seemed nice enough people but it was their tactical and operational judgement that he was concerned about. He knew that this was a new ship, hastily formed and that there hadn’t been much time to gel but he was all too aware that in four days’ time they would be warping into the unknown to encounter who knows what.

  But he also knew that tired minds don’t usually make great decisions so he announced “OK folks I think we’ve done enough for now. We’ll have a lay day tomorrow, save for those on watch.” Alas on a small ship that usually meant most of his officers. But the gesture seemed to be appreciated. “XO can you please stay behind.”

  His XO was 1st Lt Anita Sharia. She looked up from her workstation and nodded. Her dark brown ponytail kicked up as she did so. The others filed out and Sheldon sat in the seat of the workstation next to hers, swivelled the chair to face her and asked “What did you think?”

  She swivelled her chair to face him. She massaged her forehead with her right hand while she formed her reply. The hand dropped away and she made eye contact. She sighed. “We really need more time.” Her large brown eyes stayed focussed on Sheldon. “I know we don’t have it but I’m grateful we’re just on surveillance duties.”

  Sheldon nodded his concurrence and she continued “I know it’s only been five years since I graduated but these new guys don’t seem to have had much exposure to tactics. They lack critical thinking and that’s a real worry.”

  “Johnston and Thurbar are 90 day wonders” said Sheldon. “That’s to be expected in their case. But I must admit I am surprised at Omabe and Lee. I’m not sure they have what it takes.”

  “I agree but we’re stuck with them for now” said Anita, her roundish face looking sanguine.

  “Yes we are. So here’s what I propose” said Sheldon with a determined look. “Once we come out of warp either you or I will have to be supervising whoever is on watch.”

  Anita leant back in her chair and an unhappy expression came over her face. “Let me guess. I get the night watch?” She raised her right eyebrow as she spoke.

  “Well…” said Sheldon. He paused and then with a smile added “For the first week anyway.”

  Anita leaned forward and put out her hand “Deal!” She gave him a smile.

  “You’d make a good poker player.”

  “I am a good poker player” she added quickly.

  “Right” said Sheldon drawing out the word.

  Chapter 3. Raptor to Slintos 1940, 17 August

  Meg Songa drained the last of her cocktail and placed the glass down on the table in the officers’ mess. She looked around at her subalterns and felt very pleased. In fact she was more than happy with their performance. She had expected the worst but had been pleasantly surprised. Even the two new grads turned out to have sharp minds and were quick learners. ‘They need to be’ she reminded herself. ‘Only four days to go.’

  Her XO, Hector Shoebridge entered the mess, caught sight of her, came over and sat down. His thick sandy hair needed a cut. She had watched him brush it back all throughout the day. He did so again after he sat down.

  “You know Hec (pronounced “heck”) you need a haircut” said Meg cheerfully.

  “Yes I do Maam” responded Hec with an accent that would not have been out of place at Oxford university. “I’ll see to it in the morning.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you, where did you get your accent?”

  “England Maam, born and bred.”

  “But you graduated in Nova Vista?”

  “Yes I did. I actually did my first year at Oxford…Law. But then my mother got a promotion to Polaris and I transferred with her.”

  “How did you feel about that?”

  “Best thing ever happened to me as it turned out” replied Hec. His expression changed. Meg detected a moment of pain. She gave him a look which said ‘really?’ “Well in most ways. There was this girl you see.”

  Meg nodded and interjected “and you had to leave her behind?”

  “Yeah that hurt. She’s married now to some legal high flyer in London. Anyway,” continued Hec forcing a smile “it gave me the opportunity to change directions. I studied Arts with a double history major and spent all my free time in the Fleet Reserve. Eventually led to here” and Hec spread out his hands, palms up. “Now if I’d stayed in England I would have ended up a stuffed shirt barrister or even worse a politician instead of being XO on the best ship in the Fleet. No, it turned out very well indeed.” Hec’s eyes were gleaming straight at Meg.

  She knew that look. Hell she had encouraged it many times in many men. But this was not the right time and place. She put on her composed look. “Thank you for sharing that Hec. It’s been a busy day. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stood up and walked out smartly.

  Chapter 4. Raihma, Istridium 1130, 18August

  Emilius Quazor received the news of the loss of Qwantum with intense displeasure. “Idiots” he yelled. It sounded like someone had just unleashed a container of piss under pressure. But Benchin had heard it before. Thankfully from the next room it was somewhat muted. He was already typing up the arrest warrants for the hapless commander’s family.

  “Benchin, that bastard at Qwantum…” Emilius called out loudly from his office.

  But Benchin interrupted with “I’m seeing to it now your excellency.”

  “Very good” said Emilius, the tempo of his rage abating. “Why can’t these fools be like you and anticipate?”

  Benchin knew better than to feed the beast.

  With no reply Emilius turned his attention to the matter of a response. “Get me Benistom” he called out, referring to the Grand Imperial Admiral Penusia Benistom, the most senior military officer in the rogan Imperial Fleet.

  “As you wish your excellency.”

  Chapter 5. Lewista 1830, 18 August

  “About time” huffed Bakun as he watched the media announcement that the security operation on Cheklin was being wound down. He had been one of the most vocal advocates for lifting it. In the end though, it was all about money. The grounding of his fleet meant that the local government was losing a great swag of its taxation, licensing and excise revenue. It was unsustainable.

  He relaxed back into his chair in his office on the top floor of Likta Towers. It was turning out to be a good day for him. But perhaps the better news was the report that Agent Torine had warped away earlier in the day. He had been unable to find out her destination but was grateful nonetheless.

  He pulled up the list that he had been working on at various times throughout the day. It was from his most classified repository. No one knew about it and only he had access to it. It was a list of people who worked for him, not all of them for there were nearly a million employed by the Likta Corporation. He had filtered them according to role and whether he knew them personally. At the top of his list were station managers ranked by tier and star system. Next came the air and ground crews. He was steadily working his way down the list ranking them as to whether they could be trusted to perform certain types of missions. It was going to take a long time.

  His attention was taken though by a report now playing on the screen on the wall. The talking head mentioned the word Qwantum. Bakun increased the volume and listened with interest as the Government spokesperson explained that the other report being broadcast was a hoax and that it had been the Resistance who set off the device.

  Bakun switched channels to one of the indie news channels. In theory these were banned but it had proved easier to ban them than to shut them down. Of course it was the number one topic. The footage was halfway through and Bakun peered at the digital signature of the IRS Fustus. “Trump card” he said out loud as he rubbe
d his hands gleefully.

  Three floors below, Meelanda was also watching. “Dynamite” she said with a smile.

  Chapter 6. Kiev over Chelora 1130, 19 August

  Dave had been right about Phil’s changing expressions while reading his report. It was as well he was within his office on board and not in the command centre. In the space of the ten minutes it took him to read Dave’s report he covered the full gambit from exhilaration to outrage.

  It was at the moment when he yelled out in anger “Fucking hell” that Rihan knocked on his door. The sound proofing was usually pretty good but not that good. Rihan gulped and tentatively opened the door upon hearing an “Oh come in” from her boss.

  Phil scowled at her. “This is all your husband’s doing” he said. Rihan shrugged in ignorance. Phil waved for her to come and read the report.

  She did so in silence and Phil watched her reactions. When she started to smile he chimed in “Yes, yes that’s the good bit. Read on.”

  Rihan put her hand to her forehead as she read the casualty figures and she immediately skipped to the annex to see if she recognised any of them. She bit her lip as she did. “Poor Kat” she muttered. Many of the others were new, obvious replacements from their last major battle in which she had led the ground op on Beta Phi.

  Phil waited patiently. She turned to him “so many?” Phil nodded.

  “Could have been a lot worse” said Phil. Rihan knew that too. She flicked back to the main body of the report. After a couple of minutes she again put her hand to her forehead.

  “Yes, yes” said Phil. “Look what he has committed us to? We are poised to liberate the sleth home worlds and he not only commits us to provide a carrier group deep into enemy space but gives away half our entire transport fleet. How on earth are we supposed to mount this operation now?”

  Rihan understood the Admiral’s frustration. They had all been working so hard to gather up all the resources needed. But her incisive mind cut straight to the chase and she abandoned all attachment to her own endeavours because she could see what Dave had seen. Here was a much bigger prize, an opportunity to go straight for the heart of the beast rather than take the long road.

  She turned to look up at Phil as she stood behind her chair and she beamed at him.

  “What are you so happy about?”

  “Don’t you see?” she said with a smile.

  “What, that we are now the proud owners of a doomed rock?”

  Rihan face changed to one of disappointment. “My husband has just presented you with a jewel and you are worried about losing a few coin.”

  Phil did not appreciate being reproached. “Rihan” he said. “In twelve months it will be useless.”

  “Then we had better hurry up and capitalise on it” she said. Her nose flared a little in annoyance.

  “The only way to do that would be to forego the liberation of the sleth. That is not going to go down too well with our sleth allies. We had an agreement in case you forgot.”

  Rihan stood up so she could speak on relatively even terms, even though Phil was still much taller than her. “No, I am well aware of that and I reckon they will see the wisdom in changing tack. Anyone with a brain can see that this new base allows us to attack the rogan home worlds…”

  “That’s enough” barked Phil. “You are out of line Captain.”

  Rihan’s natural instinct was to escalate the argument but she was a little wiser now. She nodded. “Sorry Sir.”

  “You may well be right. We have time to consider this. Let’s leave it there for now.”

  “Of course Sir” and Rihan exited.

  Phil sat back down in his chair and a big smile came over his face.

  Chapter 7. Slidwon 0500, 20 August

  Angina Slirinus had been bitterly angry when she had been called in at 0100. News of the riots reached the ISS HQ. It was like a great ripple effect that originated from Qwantum and was spreading outward overrunning each system in the extended territories and now the home worlds. It was by far the greatest challenge to the established order since the beginning of the 24th Plenum.

  Yes, she understood the emotional anger and reaction by the populous to the news that Qwantum had been doomed by the Government but the speed and scale of the response was such that she and all her best analysts concluded some organisation was martialling and organising this response. In the extended territories the finger as always was the Resistance. But in the home worlds? So far there had been no Resistance movement or activities identified. And that was the frustrating thing.

  She had dismissed her staff, partly because she was so tired she was finding it hard to think, but also partly because she wanted a break to clear her mind. She had closed the door to her office and left instructions she was not to be disturbed. She had put on some soothing music and eventually she fell asleep.

  She woke twenty minutes later with a scary thought. What if there was no one orchestrating these riots in the home worlds? What if they were simply a genuine spontaneous reaction from the populous? Surely then, someone must fill the vacuum. If so, whom?

  Her questions though remained unanswered. She collapsed her head on her arms over her desk and fell back to sleep as the sounds of the forest echoed about the room.

  Twenty minutes later she woke with a start. The dream had been horrible. She had been witnessing each of the home worlds descending into anarchy like a great fire consuming everything in its path. In the dream it had been her role to put out the fire, to preserve the order of things. But everywhere she looked she saw angry faces. They were angry at her. ‘Why?’ she had asked and then in that moment she realised that she was on the wrong side.

  It was such a shocking thought. She had invested so much of her life in preserving this edifice. But there was no shying away from it. The edifice was rotten to the core and especially at the top. A sense of guilt overwhelmed her with a nauseating feeling. It was almost repulsive. And it was this repulsion that had forced her awake.

  Her breathing was heavy and her forehead ached. She took a drink of water to cool her brow but the taste was not pleasant. She stood up and walked to the window. The flashing lights from the streets off in the distance confirmed that the rioting was real and so too was her realisation.

  “I could help fill that vacuum” she muttered. There was no thought about personal aggrandisement. As with all her life, it was one of how I can serve. “Or more importantly who?” she said in a steadier voice.

  She sat back behind her desk and began the task of identifying those she should seek out.

  Chapter 8. Slidwon 1600, 20 August

  Emilius exited the full council chambers in central Slidwon in a rage. Resentment burned into his furrowed brow and his cheeks were flushed a near beetroot colour. Benchin had been waiting outside and even his usually unflappable demeanour was alarmed at the sight. He held open the door of the hopper. Emilius looked so foul as he clambered aboard. Benchin followed suit sitting opposite Emilius. The pilot knew better than to wait for instructions. The blue liveried hopper with the Imperial markings quickly ascended.

  Benchin dared a glimpse at Emilius. He no longer looked like he would explode but Benchin knew he was raging within. “Never, ever has the full council censured the first consul” blurted out Emilius.

  Benchin was old enough to know that this was not technically correct for the full council had done so before on more than one occasion but that was all before the Imperialists took over.

  “Fools, the lot of them. This hybrid system has passed its use by date.” Emilius knew all too well why he was lumbered with a full council that still retained some albeit limited powers. It was all historical. ‘But I will rewrite history starting right now’ he thought.

  Benchin saw the heat coming out of Emilius’ face. He knew that Emilius would now be plotting his revenge. ‘Oh, the rogan way’ he said to himself while maintaining his usual passive expression.

  Chapter 9. Lewista 1845, 20 August

  Meelanda knew
they were taking a big risk. But she also knew that they had to capitalise on the wave of anti-imperialist feeling that was now boiling over on the streets. Now was the moment. If they did not act now someone else would.

  “Yes” she hailed “2000 outside the Ripple building. We’ll all be there.”

  She put the communicator back down. ‘Another fellow conspirator’ she thought. No sooner had the communicator been placed on the table it rang again.

  “Bakun” she answered.

  “Meelanda, what time are we due there?”

  “We’re going to be there at 2000 but I think it best if you are not seen there just yet.”

  “No, I think it’s time.”

  “Very well. I will be pleased to be at your side.”

  “And me at yours. I thought I should let you know that I have sent a small flotilla of transport shuttles to Qwantum to assist in the evacuation. They should arrive in a week. Over time we can increase the number. But for now that is all I could manage.”

  “It will do – an expression of our commitment and willingness to help other Resistance movements. We need to become united.”

  “Indeed.”

  The sound of the doorbell alerted Meelanda to the time. “I have to go. I will see you at 2000.” She terminated the call and ordered the apartments AI to open the door once she had confirmed who it was.

  Erkum entered. Evie and Felis followed. Erkum slid the pistol over the table to her. She stopped it. “I won’t need that.”

  Erkum came closer and leant over her seated form. “Don’t be silly Aunty. Just in case.”

  An hour later and they joined the crowd in front of the Ripple building. It had materialised quickly with the word being spread by social media. Some of Meelanda’s organising team had claimed a vantage point on the first floor balcony of the building, gaining access by a temporary ladder. They had setup a large banner and it draped over the front. At the appropriate time several lights would be activated to highlight it.