Forge a New Blade (The Laredo War Book 2)

by Peter Grant

  “Yes, Sir. His latest letter arrived yesterday on the weekly dispatch vessel from Lancaster. He sent his congratulations on our marriage and apologized that he couldn’t be here. He says you’ll learn what’s been keeping him so busy very soon now. He teased me that it’ll be a wedding present for Bill, among others, but not so much for me. I’ve no idea what he meant by that.”

  “Oh? I wonder if that has anything to do with a message that was waiting for me this morning from the Lancastrian Commonwealth’s Ambassador to the United Planets. He wants me to visit him as soon as I can arrange it.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “It might be related, but I really don’t know.”

  “Oh, well, I’ll find out soon enough. The good news is that we’ve heard from the agent we sent to Laredo. He was able to communicate with a group of senior Resistance prisoners, including my father and Gloria Aldred.”

  “Prisoners? Your father? Gloria?” Deacon sat up with a jerk. “But they’re dead, surely? The Bactrians haven’t taken prisoners of war for two years or more!”

  “It seems they’ve changed that policy. Let me give you our agent’s report.”

  Dave spoke for almost half an hour, his audience listening hungrily to the first real news they’d had from their home planet since they went into self-imposed exile a year before. At last he sat back. “So that’s it. I’m amazed that the Bactrians didn’t execute their prisoners after the Banka operation, or the others they took during the following months. I don’t know what prompted the change in their policy, but I’m very glad it happened! At least some of our best friends and most experienced comrades are still alive. If we can figure out a way to free them, they’ll be an invaluable asset.”

  “Isn’t that precisely what the Bactrians want us to do, Sir?” Captain Deacon asked. “From the sound of the defenses they’ve erected on hilltops around the camp, and the reaction force only a few kilometers away, they’re hoping to sucker us into something like that, then wipe us out.”

  “If we did it their way, sure – but we’re not going to. I suspect that’s why my father initiated Operation Phoenix. All the surviving members of the Resistance on the outside are combing through those released from slave labor camps – another new Bactrian policy for which I’m profoundly grateful, even though I’ve no idea why they’ve changed their approach. Whenever they find someone with any military background, or the right attitude and a willingness to learn, they’re recruiting them into cells and training them as soldiers. By the time another year’s passed they expect to have enough to form several battalions. If those people on the ground can disrupt the defenses while we move in from orbit, we might be able to rescue all of them in one fell swoop.”

  “What about their families?” Tamsin wanted to know. “Will the Bactrians retaliate against them?”

  Dave smiled at her. “I don’t know, so if it comes to that I think we should plan to rescue their families as well.”

  A rustle of surprise ran through the meeting. “That’ll mean ferrying several thousand people up to orbit, putting them aboard a ship or ships capable of accommodating that many, and taking them to a planet that’s willing to accept that many refugees, Sir,” Staff Sergeant Bujold pointed out dubiously. “That’s a hell of a tall order, not to mention a bloody expensive operation.”

  “True. That’s why we won’t even consider it unless and until we’re sure we can do all those things. Of course, a lot will depend on what happens on the planet.”

  “How soon will we be in contact with them again, Sir?”

  Dave shrugged. “It cost us over a million Neue Helvetica francs, mostly in bribes, to smuggle our messenger onto a freighter going there, equip him to communicate with the surviving members of the Resistance using our backdoor satellite channels, and get him back here with his information. We can’t afford to do that too often, both financially and in terms of the risk of exposure. If the Bactrians ever find out how we’re doing it, they’ll shut down our only channel of communication at once. I hope to try again late this year or early next year.”

  “What have they done about Orbital Control?” Tamsin asked. “Did they replace the space station we blew up?”

  Her husband grinned. “Yes, they did, with an old, worn-out five-million-ton freighter, one of the biggest in space. She was apparently beyond economical repair, but that didn’t worry the Bactrians. They bought her cheaply, took her to Laredo, limping along, holding her systems together with string and plugging the holes with chewing-gum, and parked her in orbit. Her bridge and accommodation have been converted into the new OrbCon, while her holds are being used as transient accommodation and orbital warehouses. They’re parking a lot of supplies aboard her and ferrying them down as required, rather than keep them all on the surface where the Resistance can get at them. They’re also spreading them among three or four smaller depots planetside, instead of one huge base like the depot we destroyed in the Battle of Banka.”

  “What about Mrs. Aldred, Sir?” Staff Sergeant Higgs asked. “If she’s going to be difficult, what might that do to our efforts here?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t have any actual authority anymore, but she was used to exercising it. I can understand her frustration. Unfortunately, if she insists on trying to influence events, that might play right into the Bactrians’ hands. They’d like nothing more than to be able to point to a divided Laredo leadership – even if Gloria isn’t officially a leader any more – and use that to undermine our efforts at the United Planets.”

  Now it was the Captain’s turn to shrug. “I suppose we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it. There’s nothing we can do about her situation from several hundred light years away, so why lose sleep over it? We’ll deal with any problems as they arise, just as we’ve always done so far.” There was a murmur of agreement from the others.

  “You’re right,” Dave sighed. “Very well, people. You know as much as I do about the situation on Laredo right now. If any of you have any ideas on how to exploit or make use of any aspect of it, let us know. We’ve got a busy couple of days ahead. Captain Deacon and I will attend tomorrow morning’s session of the UP inquiry, then tomorrow afternoon there’s the sentencing phase of former Ambassador McNairy’s trial.”

  Something very like a snarl ran around the table. “I hope they hang his ass out to dry!” Higgs exclaimed viciously.

  “We all hope so. He’s been convicted on first class felony charges, which should get him a minimum of ten years in jail followed by automatic exile on a prison planet for the rest of his life.”

  “Let’s hope they pick a really nasty one for him,” Deacon muttered.

  “I’ll second that.” Dave stretched, then stood. “Very well, people. We’ve all got more than enough to do. Let’s get on with it. Bill, stay behind for a moment, please.”

  There was a general bustle as the meeting broke up. Dave stroked Tamsin’s cheek as the others filed out. “How are you holding up this morning, love?”

  She smiled up at him. “OK so far. The morning sickness isn’t as bad this time as it was the first. I’m scheduled at the clinic next week to have the baby transferred to a gestation pod, and after that things will get back to normal within a couple of days.”

  “Thank heavens for pods! I really can’t afford for you to be out of action for any length of time.”

  “You can’t afford any of us to be out of action, darling.” She heaved a sigh. “We’re spread so thin it’s just not funny.” She grinned suddenly. “I don’t know why you’re complaining, though. I seem to recall this is all your fault!”

  Dave tried – unsuccessfully – to adopt a look of injured innocence. “Hey, you co-operated!”

  “Huh. That’s your story!”

  Grinning, he threw up his hands in mock-surrender. “Yes, it is, but a guy can’t win an argument like this.” He sobered. “Speaking of being spread so thin, that’s about to get much worse when some of us head off-planet. Still, there’s no help for it. We’
ve got a war to organize.”

  “Yes, and I’ve got my part of it waiting for me.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll leave you two to talk in private.”

  After she’d gone out and closed the door, Dave sat down again. “Bill, we’ve got a problem. The watchers are back, and they’re bad news.” He summarized what Mike had told him. “It’s obvious who’s hired them. I think we’re going to have to teach them a lesson. They’ve got to learn that it’s not worth taking Bactria’s money, because we’re too dangerous a target.”

  “I’m with you on that. What’s the next step?”

  “I’ve asked Mike to find out more about them. I’m a little concerned that after they killed other people, the police reaction seems to have been to shrug their shoulders and be happy that there were less bad guys around.”

  “Yeah. That suggests either the cops are being paid off, or they’re using them as surrogates. They may even be encouraging them to keep the really nasty bad guys under control. That would mean less competition for the Gesellschaft, less fuss in the press about crime and an easier life for the cops. The politicians can even point to reduced crime statistics when it comes to elections. I guess the powers that be aren’t going to be very happy if we deal with them too harshly.”

  “Right first time. Here’s what I have in mind. See what you think.”

  He described his idea, and the Captain chuckled. “It’ll be just like old times on Laredo when we were planning to raid the Bactrians. I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thanks. Try to set it up as quickly as possible. We don’t know their timetable, and I want to disrupt their plans before they can put them into effect.”

  “Will do. Good thing we made friends with the Special Forces Squadron last year. I reckon the Sergeant-Major will be open to a little horse-trading.”

  “I think so too. You’ve got enough of the equipment we’ll need?”

  “I have.” Deacon gave a feral grin. “What’s even nicer is that most of it used to be Bactria’s. I bribed the shipping crew who packed up their offices and homes after the Consulate staff were kicked out at twenty-four hours’ notice last year. They let me look around. They didn’t know what the cases were, but I recognized them at once. I took them all.”

  Dave shook his head in disbelief. “Why they smuggled them in through the diplomatic bag system is beyond me. That was probably the Consulate’s State Security representative being paranoid. I won’t object, because it means they were there for us to find. One point, though. On Laredo they used lethal neurotoxins only – no antidote. D’you think they’d have been dumb enough to bring that here?”

  “Ye Gods, I hadn’t thought about that!” The Captain’s face was momentarily aghast. “Surely they can’t have been that crazy! They must be using the regular stuff that comes with an antidote… surely?”

  “Better find out before it’s too late.”

  “You got that right!”

  Neue Helvetica: April 24 2851 GSC

  LANCASTRIAN COMMONWEALTH EMBASSY TO THE UNITED PLANETS, NEW GENEVA

  To Dave’s surprise, a receptionist escorted him not to Ambassador Delamere’s office, but to a small conference room on the second floor of the Embassy. The Ambassador was already there, along with two men he didn’t know. They wore civilian suits, but he instantly recognized that they weren’t at home in them – just as he still felt after wearing a military uniform for so long.

  “Good morning, Mr. President,” the Ambassador greeted him courteously. There was genuine pleasure in his eyes as he offered his hand. Dave returned his handshake equally warmly. They’d built up a relationship of mutual respect over the past year.

  “This is Commodore Wu of our Fleet’s Bureau of Intelligence,” he introduced the shorter of the two people with him, an older man with vaguely Oriental features. “This is Lieutenant-Commander Steven Maxwell, Commanding Officer of one of our communications frigates. He brought Commodore Wu to this meeting.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Dave acknowledged as he shook hands with them, thinking, Why is Maxwell at this meeting if he’s just a chauffeur? No. He’s got to be more than that.

  “Commodore Wu is here to discuss business about which I have neither the need nor the desire to know anything, so I’ll leave him to tell you more.” There was definitely a mischievous twinkle in the Ambassador’s eyes as he headed for the door, closing it behind him.

  “Coffee, Mr. President?” Wu invited, gesturing to the pot waiting on the sideboard, accompanied by cups, creamer and sweetener.

  “Thank you. Shall we dispense with the diplomatic niceties among ourselves? I may be ‘Mr. President’ to the Ambassador, but in military circles I’m still Major Carson. That puts me at the same rank as you, Lieutenant-Commander Maxwell, and far junior to you, Commodore.”

  “As you wish.”

  They helped themselves to coffee. As he was stirring in sweetener, Wu asked, “I understand the trial of your former Ambassador to the United Planets ended recently. I know he was convicted, but what was the sentence?”

  “It was as expected – ten years at hard labor on a prison planet, followed by permanent exile there.” Dave gave a short, humorless laugh. “He deserves the death penalty for helping to plan the attack on us at the spaceport, when Vice-President Johns was murdered. Trouble is, we couldn’t prove his involvement, so we couldn’t charge him with that - only with stealing the contents of her bank account an hour later.”

  “At least he won’t be troubling you again.”

  “If he does, I’ll deal with him myself rather than leave it to the law!” Dave knew that raw anger was suffusing his voice, but couldn’t help himself. Vice-President Johns had been killed in the moment he’d reported to her after their arrival at Neue Helvetica from Laredo. The memory was still raw and painful.

  They sat down around the small table. “Let me start at the beginning,” Wu said. “You launched an appeal for assistance in cash and in kind when you took over as President Pro Tem of Laredo’s Government-in-Exile last year. May I ask how successful that’s been?”

  Dave shrugged. “I suppose it’s no secret that the sums actually donated don’t come close to those pledged. We were promised almost five billion Neue Helvetica francs by the interplanetary community, of which we've actually received about one-point-eight billion – including a very generous two hundred and fifty million from your own Commonwealth, for which my most sincere thanks. We had six hundred and sixty million francs in our planetary reserve account when I took over. After our expenses over the past year, we currently have about two-point-two billion francs available.” He didn’t think it was necessary to mention the President’s private account he’d established for clandestine, off-the-record projects, into which he’d deposited the proceeds from the sale of the uncut diamonds and other assets he’d brought from Laredo last year.

  “That would be enough to buy you just one modern destroyer, fully equipped and armed, and pay its operating expenses for six months,” Wu pointed out gently.

  Dave grimaced. “You said it! I’ve got to start buying ships, but I’m at a loss as to what to buy and where to find them, to say nothing of arming them once I’ve bought them.”

  Wu smiled. “BuIntel has been looking into that very closely for the past few months. The Lancastrian Commonwealth is very much in favor of your efforts to encourage minor planets to establish some sort of mutual defensive relationship. We’ve had to support too many United Planets peacekeeping missions to such planets, at a very considerable cost in money and equipment – and sometimes in the lives of our personnel as well. If your efforts bear fruit they should reduce the need for such operations, which will be very much to our advantage. Therefore, we’re going to offer you a great deal of covert support to take back Laredo, in the hope that you’ll then be able to further develop your proposed interplanetary defensive alliance.”

  Dave tried to control the excitement swelling within him. “I’m very grateful to hear that. What sort of support did you
have in mind?”

  “For a start, our armed forces are amongst the largest in the settled galaxy. We have about fifteen hundred vessels in the active Fleet, both in service and undergoing routine maintenance and overhaul, and a similar number in our Reserve Fleet – older warships and auxiliaries in long-term storage that can be reactivated in emergencies. Every year we scrap thirty to fifty ships from the latter, replacing them with vessels from the active Fleet that have been supplanted by new construction. That means we have a steady supply of used equipment – fusion reactors, fire control systems, missile tubes and so on – that are often still in perfectly good order, but no longer required because they’re a generation, or two, or three, behind our current systems. We usually salvage components from them or sell non-sensitive equipment on the open market, but we can also install them in other hulls, including any ships you might obtain.”

  “What about the costs involved in doing the work?”

  “We have our own Fleet dockyards, with thousands of robots for construction and maintenance. In time of peace, adding a little extra work isn’t something we’ll worry about. We can lose that in the petty cash column of our budget. Furthermore, we have thousands of engineers and technicians in various stages of training. It’s to our advantage to give them real work to do instead of just make-work training assignments. We’ll supervise them very closely, of course, to ensure that the work meets our high standards: but by using them to upgrade and refit your ships, we’ll actually improve the quality of our instruction, so we won’t charge you for their services. That’s already been discussed and approved by… those in a position to do so. I won’t be more specific, for obvious reasons.”

  Dave grinned. “Understood. I can only say that I’m very grateful indeed. I’ve been pricing major overhaul and refurbishment costs, and even for merchant vessels they’re pretty steep – ten to fifteen million francs for a typical half-million-ton tramp freighter. To convert one into what the Bactrians call an ‘armed merchant cruiser’ would be far more costly. Would your surplus equipment include missiles and laser cannon?”