by Chris Hechtl
Once they were ready, Theo nodded to her. “Shall we begin?”
“Where do you want me to start?” Catherine asked as she took her tablet out of her pouch and set it in front of her. She keyed in her password and thumbprint and then pulled her notes up.
“We've got the reports. Let's start with after the first battle.”
“I think we need to start at that battle,” Malwin said.
“As many of you know, I didn't make those decisions. But, I can tell you that was when we started to realize things wouldn't be as easy as initially estimated.”
As dispassionately as she could, she outlined the battle of B-97a. “It was a route,” she finished. “But not a decisive victory as we realized some time later. We know now that the enemy can repair far faster than we can. They also had a lot more ships in their pipeline and were willing to reinforce with them fast. But I'll get to that in a moment.”
Her fingers flicked as she pulled up the notes on B-95a3. When she began to describe what happened, she was cut off.
“How could that fool fall for a decoy?” the minister of security demanded.
She turned to him. “Excuse me?”
“Admiral De Gaulte. How could he fall for it?”
“A decoy is just that, a device designed for deception. The enemy has better systems all around than we do. They used it to their most effectiveness in order to delay us. It worked I admit, for a brief time, but we eventually saw through it. Once we did Admiral De Gaulte ordered that we proceed on mission.”
“Why didn't he send the support ships to Nuevo Madrid?” Ahab asked.
“If he had they would have been cut off and torn apart by now,” Malwin stated.
“Admiral De Gaulte ordered part of the fleet train back and part of it to remain with the fleet. He didn't want to send those transports to Nuevo Madrid without knowing we could secure our rear. The enemy had several cruisers in the system. One or more of them could have followed the transports and cut them apart,” Catherine said evenly.
A few heads nodded around the table.
“Had he divided some of his forces to protect those ships, it would have meant less available for the primary mission. The staff agreed that Nuevo Madrid could wait.”
Again, heads nodded, some ever so slightly.
“Continue,” Malwin prompted.
She went on to describe the admiral's aborted attack on Protodon, and then his plan to draw the enemy out of position in order to cut behind them and tear up their infrastructure. “By that time, it was apparent to me that he understood we were in over our head, but he was doing his best with the tools and weapons he had available to him.” Her eyes cut to her father. “They weren't enough. When the enemy didn't take the bait, he withdrew for a retreat.”
“And therefore, got torn up in the process!” the emperor snarled.
“With respect, sire, he exited hyperspace with no sign of the enemy. We replenished and then transitioned across the solar system. Our sensors found nothing wrong other than the four battle cruiser ships running from us.”
“Why didn't he give chase?” Ahab asked.
“At that point, as before the admiral didn't want to divide his forces.”
“A likely story,” the minister of security scoffed.
“You have the data from that battle. You know it wasn't faked,” she stated, turning to address the minister. “We needed everything to escape once the enemy sprung their trap.”
“We're getting ahead of ourselves,” Countess Newberry stated.
Catherine's eyes cut to the other woman. She nodded once, then reached for a small glass of water in front of her and took a sip.
“What else can you tell us?”
“We didn't see the minefield because the enemy was so skillful at drawing our attention to them when they arrived.”
“That's a bit of ass covering,” Ahab muttered.
“With respect, sir, if you have a massive force jump in behind you that is faster than you are, you want to focus on them and make sure you can outrun them—especially if you know the path ahead was clear. Those mines were well hidden. We were fortunate to see them at all to evade.”
“Continue.”
“Admiral De Gaulte ordered that the fleet maintain cohesion but any ship that fell behind would be left. They, we, couldn't slow down; if we did the enemy fleet coming up behind us would have been able to engage fully.”
“That is where some ships were lost?”
“Yes. Star Mauler took damage in the long-range shooting. She was forced to slow down. When her crew realized they couldn't keep up, they courageously turned to engage the enemy to allow the rest of the fleet to escape. I know they destroyed one battle cruiser and crippled several others including one of the enemy dreadnoughts before she was destroyed.”
“And then you escaped. We'll continue on the decisions after that in a moment. Commander, what do you think of the enemy's ships?” Countess Newberry asked.
“Ma'am?”
“How are they?”
“They are impressive. I believe they are full Federation tech. I don't know if they match the original specs in our databases. I understand tactical was debating that since there were some problems with the numbers,” she replied. “It was never resolved.”
“Why not?”
“I don't know why. Without seeing captured hardware, we don't know. It could be new construction, or they could have tweaked the ships. I don't know either way.”
“Understood. How much of a percentage of the ships was new construction?” the countess asked.
“Ma'am? I'd say most of it. CIC only identified three ships. Queen Adrienne was among them. She had been fully restored, but some of her sensor profile just barely matched what we had on file to give CIC a tentative match. Another was the Tauren battleship Bismark. So, I'd say nearly 97 percent of what we encountered was new construction.”
There was a rustle as they digested that unpalatable idea.
“I think we've been at it for several hours, yes, with your permission your majesty we should recess for lunch,” Theo said, looking at the emperor.
The emperor grunted and then nodded. The meeting broke up as the group got up to stretch and attend to other things for the moment.
Chapter 28
Catherine was tired but grateful to survive the experience. She didn't want to have to go through it again but she knew she would have to as often as necessary. If she could survive the enemy, surely she could survive this, she thought. She realized they wanted a scapegoat. It was perfectly natural. But how many wanted one and why were two different problems. She had noticed a hesitation in calling anyone out too. Apparently, no one wanted to piss another family off. Her main concern was getting the admiral reinforcements, but she realized that had to take a back seat to defending him and allowing him to remain where he was. She hated that. Every moment they wasted was lost. Time was precious.
But, she had to just grit her teeth and do her best to get through it while trying to impress upon them the importance of taking the enemy seriously.
:::{)(}:::
“What do you think?”
“She's doing it straight. Clear cut. She knows we've got their records. So far her story is on point.”
“We can demolish that,” the minister of security pointed out.
“Perhaps. But do we want to. She has been careful to not point out that it was we who underestimated the threat,” Theo said, locking eyes with the emperor. “We who didn't want to send more than a division of dreadnoughts. We who have consistently underestimated this enemy. Each time they've taken our forces and then turned them against us. We need to stop that practice. We need to take this serious and provide Cyrano with the tools he needs to do the job.”
“Is he the right man for the job?” the emperor asked.
“As much as you'd like to have his head, sire, he's the man on the spot, and the only one we have at the moment. He's also one of our best. I've had my best people try
to game out what happened based on the data provided. None came close to his scores. Most were torn apart by the second engagement.”
“That's a simulation.”
“Yes, sir, it's just a sim, but it is telling. We get no second chances in the real world sometimes, sire, which means we need to make the best decision from a menu of bad decisions, limited data, in a time crunch. It's easy for us to armchair quarterback here, in safety. But we're going to pay for it if we do.”
“I'll consider your words,” the emperor said as he stalked off.
:::{)(}:::
Catherine was secretly grateful to not have to see her father for the afternoon grilling. It went a bit more smoothly as those involved asked her about the retreat, the admiral's reasoning, and his plans and state of mind. From there it went into a general question and answer session until they broke for the evening. By the time it was over, her throat was sore from all the talking, and she was painfully aware of how little progress they'd made. But, at least she'd survived the first gambit she reminded herself.
:::{)(}:::
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Princess,” Countess Newberry said as her yeoman ushered the princess into her office the following morning.
“I haven't had my schedule booked up yet. I thought meeting you would be important. Is this an assessment of what I said?” she asked. “An interview of sorts?” she asked, cocking her head as she realized the countess seemed torn between bowing to acknowledge the heir and military protocol. She came to attention. “Ma'am?”
That seemed to settle things with the countess. She smiled and indicated they should both take a seat in a wood paneled alcove. “Tea?” the countess asked.
“No thank you,” Catherine said politely over her shoulder to the yeoman as she took her seat. After the yeoman had withdrawn, she settled herself.
“This isn't a formal debriefing interview. I'll leave that up to others, but I know you've done your best to stress the need for speed.”
“I have,” Catherine replied, nodding.
“And, I think you are aware now of some of the problems we are facing,” the countess replied quietly.
“You mean the arrogance we've all labored under for so long? Or certain people not facing reality?” Catherine asked. “Yes, I've seen it. I've had my face rubbed into it recently. The experience was … painful and humbling.”
Sabina realized that the woman didn't like admitting that. But, she was being honest. That was refreshing.
“What is the biggest obstacle to the deployment of reinforcements?”
“The first is that we lack proper reinforcements. A lot of our ships are tied up in the refit cycle. But, we have some that are available.”
“I see.”
“Politically, it is those who do not want those ships out of their sight. That is currently changing now.”
“You mean my father,” Catherine replied with a dust dry voice.
Sabina nodded. “He has been chief among them. He hasn't been on the throne long. One can understand his desire to consolidate power and to protect himself,” she said carefully. She knew no one was recording the conversation from her end, but she couldn't guarantee that the princess's implants weren't recording them.
“There hasn't been a throne that long. We tend to forget that,” Catherine said. She frowned as she suddenly realized her father had taken the throne the same year Admiral Irons had been found. “Huh,” she said.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. A coincidence of timing I suppose you could say.”
“What?”
“It's just, I just realized that my father took the throne the same year Admiral Irons was found.”
Countess Newberry stared at her for a long time. She frowned and then pulled up the data in her implants. After a moment, she slowly nodded. “You are right,” she said, eyes refocusing on the Princess.
“A coincidence. The plan for the empire was set into motion centuries ago after all. We are the culmination of all that work,” Catherine stated.
“Maybe. Or, perhaps one or more of the gods of space are playing with us. Checks and balances,” the countess mused.
Catherine turned to her in surprise. You of all people believe in them?”
The countess shrugged. “I honestly don't know what to believe about the Hyperspace War. There were a lot of tall tales told during that time period, stuff that is extremely hard to believe. A lot of it is third- or fourth-hand accounts without supporting evidence. Most people think the gods of space are a joke.”
“We can't see them, but that doesn't mean they aren't there watching,” Catherine said, looking around the room. “Which is why we're so careful about crossing a few of them,” she stated, going back to looking at the countess.
“Exactly. Better to appease a possible deity than anger one. But, we've wandered a bit off topic,” the countess said with a moue. “I obviously know where you stand on reinforcing Admiral De Gaulte. Where do you stand on him personally?” she asked.
“You mean you didn't get your report from Sedrick or your other spies?” Catherine asked with a bit of whimsy in her voice.
The countess merely smiled ever so briefly and flicked her fingertips.
“As you know, I'm not sleeping with him. I have a lot of respect for him. He got caught up in the works. He tried to make his fleet mix work for the mission. Obviously, that didn't work as planned.”
“I gathered that,” the countess replied dryly. “There is a lot of hand-wringing over that. Some are playing the finger-pointing game. Some of those fingers are pointed in his direction as well as yours as his operation's officer.”
“Mine?” Catherine asked, eyes widen in surprise.
“Yours,” the countess replied evenly with a nod. “You failed to assess the dangers and the logistics needed. That's the running commentary direct from the grapevine.”
“How …,” Catherine cleared her throat and tried again. “How bad is it?”
The countess shrugged as she assessed the princess. “Bad enough. But there is enough finger pointing going around for everyone to share some of the blame. Myself included. The problem is the people who are defensive and feel pressured to resign or do something to shift blame.”
Catherine grimaced. She knew the type.
“The good news is for the moment, Malwin and the others are not pointing them your way. Shockingly enough Malwin has had a bit of a change of heart. He's come around to realize he hadn't taken the threat seriously enough, nor the logistical challenges involved. A certain IG inspector got him thinking along those lines,” she admitted.
Catherine's right eyebrow quirked upwards in inquiry but the countess didn't elaborate.
“We are sending reinforcements now, and we're sending supplies. The news of the battle of B-95a3 has shocked many. Your return with supporting evidence and testimony has broken some of the logjam going on.”
“Excuse me, logjam?” Catherine asked. “Over what? I'd think sending reinforcements would be black and white!”
“It is and it isn't. To some it is a diversion of firepower. Some considered it false information. There have been some mutterings about some people in power getting their hands on those ships,” Sabina replied. “There are also the turtles, the people who are so afraid they want to fort up here and screw the rest of the empire. They don't understand we need to bleed the enemy and keep them at bay. Fight for room.”
“I can see the knee jerk reaction in some of the old guard,” Catherine said slowly. “And I can see some wanting to wait until more of the fleet has been updated.”
“Playing devil's advocate now?” the countess asked with a brief smile. “I appreciate it. Those of us who want to forward deploy assets to stop the Federation are doing our best to educate those who are like that. If they are willing to listen that is,” she said wryly.
“My father being among them?”
“Yes. He's—an interesting case,” the countess said slowly. Catherine no
dded. “He's gone from suspicious to revenge rather quickly. I appreciate it. But, the timing is off.”
“Well, if he's willing to send a bigger hammer, I'm all for it.”
“The problem is he wants to remove Cyrano and find someone better.”
Catherine shook her head. “At this moment, there is no one better. We both know that. Cyrano is one of our best strategists, if not the best. He is also the man on the spot and the only one who has faced the enemy. He has a deep appreciation of what they can do. Sending someone else will repeat many of the same mistakes we've been through. Or they'll be trying to get up to speed and over their own institutional arrogance or fears while the enemy arrives.”
“None of those scenarios sound good.”
“No, they don't. I think we need to get Cyrano the support he needs. Once he's stabilized the situation, then the command structure can be reassessed.”
The countess studied her for a long moment, weighing her loyalty to her former commander with what she had said and what the countess knew about the situation.
“I can't make any promises, but I will take that under advisement,” Sabina finally said as she rose.
“Thank you,” Catherine said, rising as well. The two women shook hands. “Thank you for doing your best.”
“I'm trying,” the countess said, realizing the woman considered her something of an ally. She was privately amused by that idea. Was she so gullible? Or was she desperate? She wasn't certain.
:::{)(}:::
Moira ran a hand over her gravid belly. Any time now the doctors would take her child out for her own good. She felt the babies move. A few days ago, she'd seen a tiny foot pressed through her flesh. It had been a bit terrifying to see, like an alien creature within her. The nurses had assured her that such things and feelings were totally normal.
They had adjusted her medication, and she was glad for that. She had started to feel increasingly depressed for some reason. Now she moved with a light and airy grace despite her gravid situation. Her feet still hurt but it didn't bother her. It was like a distant thing.
