“It’s working successfully for now,” Cornwallis said with a frown, “despite repeated requests to high command, the Imperial Navy was only able to attach one ComStat carrier to the fleet. We have enough FTL com-buoys to bridge the Overton Expanse and no more,” his countenance turned grim, “I suspect that certain members of the Senate War Committee decided that this formation should be supported only so far and no further, and put pressure on navy to ensure such.”
“It is not my position to question Imperial Navy High Command,” the grey haired Commodore said neutrally.
“Well, fortunately for me, I’m normally on the War Committee so it literally is my job to put harsh questions to High Command,” Cornwallis said, his lips pressing together thinly.
“I’ll leave such matters to yourself and the rest of the Imperial Senate,” replied the Commodore.
“That still leaves us short of enough FTL buoys to have a functioning FTL communication line for this fleet,” said the Senator.
“We have an old mine sweeper attached to the Reserve Formation,” remarked the Chief of Staff, “we could use it to pick up the FTL buoys and move them forward, to enable us to maintain communications.”
“I would do that if the Senate hadn’t issued direct orders that we are to establish an FTL network that spans the Expanse. Which only leaves us with a couple buoys to play around with,” said Cornwallis, “I technically have the power to override their orders while in the field but I’ll need to justify that decision the moment I step back onto the Senate floor. Which I honestly wouldn’t care about,” he grimaced, “except that the loss of communications would probably be all the excuse they needed to trigger another vote on the Senate floor. Next thing we know, they’re sending out another Senator or Admiral with a different set of instructions for the Spineward Sectors. Best case they interfere, worst case they hinder our operations and try to steal our credit.” The Commodore met his gaze but refrained from comment. “You’re a naval officer, I get it,” Cornwallis glared, “but I would like some suggestions from my Chief of Staff on just how best we can maintain the communications flexibility we need while still following our mandate.”
The other officer drew a long face as he slowly worked his lower lip with one eye narrowed.
“I assume suborning the local FTL communications isn’t an option?” he queried.
“What little wasn’t destroyed has been co-opted by the locals,” Cornwallis frowned, “moved, in another word, and an entirely new operating system installed and all our backdoor accesses erased. They’re gone and we’re not getting them back. Cheeky of them to steal our own network out from under us,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Well if suborning their network won’t work and we can’t move ours…” the Commodore brightened, looking like he’d had an idea and then shook his head and looked back down.
“I can see you thought of something there. What was it?” asked Cornwallis.
The Commodore shook his head dismissively, “It’s non-standard, you definitely won’t like it, and I’m not even sure if it’s legal. I could get in trouble for even suggesting it. It’s a very bad idea,” he said immediately in rejection.
Cornwallis narrowed his eyes. “Let me be the judge of that,” he snapped.
“Are you—” started the Commodore.
“Get on with it!”
“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” the Commodore said cautiously.
“Granted. Now...” the Senator gestured for him to continue.
“Well there is only one organization in the galaxy rich enough and crazy enough to put FTL buoys all along this fleet’s path into the Spineward Sectors, or wherever else it pleases for that matter, and it just so happens they’re a part of this fleet. With a whole host of buoys with them even,” said the Commodore.
“Give me a name. I don’t care who it is, all I care about are the com-buoys,” said the former Admiral, “I’ll squeeze them until they’re dry if I have to.”
The Commodore shook his head.
“You don’t think I can?” demanded the Imperial Senator.
And then the Commodore told him who it was.
“What!!! Say that again?” the Senator immediately glared at the Commodore.
“I said the PGE has a small fleet of ComStat carriers, along with a small host of other ships, attached to this fleet,” repeated the Commodore.
“The Pan-Galactic Entertainment network,” the Senator’s mouth worked with disgust, like he’d just bit into something rotten.
“A more useless corporation I’ve personally never seen, and they’re Confederation to the core, but they also have a budget equal to the GDP of at least two provinces and a fleet of ComStat buoys with them to help them reconnect with viewers in the Spine. I heard they were furious five years ago when a number of their top rated shows took a ratings dive because of the Spine. They lost billions of viewers overnight and almost successfully lobbied the Grand Assembly to reestablish contact with the Spine in order to get their ratings back up to pre-withdrawal levels. Their motto should be 'we’ve never met a viewer we couldn’t court',” said the Commodore.
“PGE…in the name of MAN, this is what you bring to me, PGE!” Cornwallis glared at the Commodore.
“I said you wouldn’t like it,” said the Commodore, “they’re not just civilian, but Confederation civilian and they have big market penetration into the Empire. On top of that they’re probably the only corporation in the Confederation the people actually support. Trying to touch the top rated entertainment network in the Confederation is likely suicidal…”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re Imperials here,” growled Cornwallis.
The Commodore brightened.
“Do you have any idea just how bad an idea it is to send high level encrypted naval traffic through the data lines of a Confederation civilian entertainment network?” said the Senator. “MAN help us, this is the best you can do?” he rounded on the Commodore.
His Chief of Staff’s face immediately blanked.
“Wait here,” Cornwallis stood up and stalked out the door.
He returned several minutes later looking composed, prompting the Commodore to immediately jump to his feet.
“I wanted to take this moment to apologize for speaking out of line earlier,” began the Commodore.
“Sit back down. It was a dumb idea, there’s no doubt about that,” the Senator shot him a glare, “which means the only person in this room dumber than you is me. Because I just contacted Floston’s Paradise and asked to speak with one of their representatives. They said they’ll be sending over someone to negotiate a lease.”
“Who is it?” the Chief of Staff asked with a frown
“Some nobody called Ruby Rod,” the Senator said dismissively.
“Never heard of him,” said the Chief of Staff.
“In the meantime, moving back to our actual task: bringing the Spineward Sectors into the Empire and reorganizing them as provinces,” the Senator said briskly.
“You mean conquer the Spine,” interjected the Chief of Staff.
Cornwallis waved his hand dismissively. “Let’s not get bogged down describing things,” he said impatiently, “we are here to do what we’re here to do and right now the main obstacle to taking the Spine for the Empire is the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet. Take that out of the equation and the rest of the Spine will topple like a house of cards.”
“Then we need to decide if we’re going to make him come to us, go at him straight, or do something more creative,” remarked the Chief of Staff.
“I have no intention of making the same mistake as Arnold Janeski,” Cornwallis shook his head, “I don’t plan to corner him in front of the Sector’s most powerful defenses. Right now I’m drafting a strategy to draw Jason Montagne and his Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet out with a series of diversion attacks on their Core Worlds and transit hubs and force a battle away from all those fixed defenses. With their mobile assets destroyed, defeated or
on the run, mopping up a few star fortresses and mine fields will be child’s play,” he finished with a snap of his fingers.
“What were you thinking exactly, Sir?” the Commodore said, leaning forward as Cornwallis began to lay out the opening steps of his plan.
Chapter 20: Imperial Sightings at the Core Worlds
I was sitting in my room reading the latest Confederated Spine intelligence reports. I had nothing better to do while my ships orbited Central and the various committees argued and debated. I’d sent out the call for warships and the call had been sent out for all available SDF units to gather at Central to resist the invaders. Now all I could do was read the intelligence reports and wait.
There had been an alarming number of Imperial sightings at the remaining Core Worlds of Sector 25 that hadn’t been reduced to proverbial rubble by Janeski’s fleet. Which made sense considering Janeski had moved into Sector 25 from the Sector 26 border and Senator Cornwallis’s Glorious Fleet of Liberation was approaching us by way of the Overton expanse.
I was just frustrated by the number of reports. Any Imperial sightings at our Core Worlds was one too many, yet at the same time there were not enough for a clear pattern to form.
“If he was scouting our Core Worlds then given the high level of Imperial technology, just how many were we flat out missing? It was worrying.
Of course as the new Grand Admiral of the Confederation in the Spine I’d belatedly sent out scouts of my own.
The pressure was building in the Grand Assembly and I could tell that as soon as the scouts finally made contact with the Imperial Fleet, I’d have to head out to meet them or risk being voted out of office.
Not that I cared about the Grand Admiral hat in and of itself, or at least not much if I was being brutally honest but I wanted everything I and the MSP were sacrificing to have meaning. If I was being truthful with myself I really didn’t want to raise the Montagne flag and declare myself some kind of fringe space poobah. I’d had plenty of chances to become a real life warlord and it didn’t appeal to me. I could do it if I had to but I wasn’t out here for my own self-aggrandizement, or at least such things were a pleasant side benefit if and when they showed up, no, I was here for the people of the Spine.
My job as I saw it was to protect the ‘people’ of the Spineward Sectors from Tyrants, Imperials and politicians of the local persuasion determined to line their pockets while people died.
My com-panel chimed.
“Who is it?” I asked shaking my head as I was brought out of my musings.
“Chief of Staff Steiner, Grand Admiral,” Lisa’s voice came over my intercom, “you asked to be reminded a half hour prior to your shuttle flight.”
I grimaced. “Thank you, Lisa,” I said.
“Happy to help, Sir,” she said cutting the channel.
I spun around in my chair. “This is going to be fun,” I sighed.
I was busy changing my jacket and foot wear using the extra uniform and clothing stored in the day closet of my ready room when the hatch chimed.
“I’ll be a minute,” I called out.
The door swooshed open while I was still buttoning up my jacket, and I whirled around blaster pistol in hand.
“Is that any way to treat your Hold Mistress?” Akantha asked hands on her hips while my weapon was pointed at her head.
“I think ‘a’ Hold Mistress anyway and this is getting out of control,” I said irritably.
“I did knock,” she informed me as if I had been unaware.
“Yes and I distinctly recall saying for whoever it was to wait. What use are Royal Armsmen if they won’t even guard the door when I’m putting on clothes?” I asked, shooting a look at my Chief Armsman.
Sean D’Argeant raised an eyebrow in response.
“Useless,” I said witheringly.
Akantha shook her head disapprovingly. “There’s nothing there I haven’t seen before,” she said.
“That’s not the point,” I said defensively.
She shook her head. “Stop being petulant, it doesn’t suit you, and besides put on some clothes. Just because I’ve seen it all before doesn’t mean I want to see it all again right now,” she said.
“A coat and some shoes,” I repeated gesturing to my unzipped uniform jacket and dress boots beside my feet, “I mean if you’re desperate to get after me for being uncovered…” I added, suggestively starting to pull up the bottom of my shirt.
“Just get dressed, Jason,” Akantha growled and then her voice turned sweet, “and remember you promised to take me over to Central.”
“Oh, yes, joy,” I said, unenthusiastically putting on my boots before zipping my admiral’s jacket.
I turned to her only to find my big bowler helmet in her hand. I grimaced, hating the big oversized thing that we Confederation admiral’s were supposed to wear before giving into the inevitable and putting the thing on my head.
At least I decided I wasn’t rocking a head of fresh burns and scar tissue like I’d been early on in my independent space officer career.
“Ready?” Akantha asked.
“Let’s go,” I said holding out my elbow.
Rolling her eyes, she grasped my arm firmly and allowed me to lead her out of my office and down to the shuttle bay without any bickering or in-fighting.
Score one for Team Montagne, I thought wryly.
“Admiral, what do you intend to do about the Imperial Navy sightings throughout the Sector?” a Media Reporter shoved her microphone into my face and demanded as soon as I entered attack range.
“Three sightings clustered together are by definition not ‘sightings throughout the Sector,’ and my wife and I are late for an appointment with the sub-committee, thanks,” I said, turning to move past him but the woman and his small swarm of floating hover-cams immediately moved to block my way.
“Not so fast!” snapped the reporter with various hover-cams moving in closer while others moved to new positions for better shots. “Inquiring minds throughout the Sector want to know: why did you turn to a life of tyranny and crime??” the reporter demanded once again shoving her microphone in my face.
My face turned cold. “What organization did you say you were with again?” I asked.
“I didn’t,” the reporter admitted before going back on the attack, “what my viewers want to know is that, other than your experience running a vast criminal enterprise, all you seem to have succeeded in is getting two entire battle fleets entirely trashed. So what is your answer to the skeptical voter fearful of your well proven record both in combat and outside of it?”
I looked at the reporter in disgust. “I don’t have to justify myself to you. Vast criminal record? All I’ve ever been accused of is planetary piracy and illegally enforcing my legal duties as a Confederation officer. I make no excuses for protecting innocent worlds and freighter traffic from pirate attacks, or for stopping a droid invasion that ravaged dozens of worlds. As for the planetary piracy issue, you can speak to my wife,” I said turning to go back the way I came.
“Not so fast!” cried the reporter, her hover cameras whining with protest as they moved around to cut me off.
I irritably waved one of several cameras out of my face.
“Security! Security,” cried the reporter, “Confederation code 8-2-9-4-5, I’m reporting a physical action that resulted in damage to the equipment of a credentialed reporter in the course of her duties. Under the law, attacking a member of the fourth estate’s equipment is the same as a physical attack upon the person herself. I demand this tyrant be arrested for both assault and battery,” she turned to a security guard, “the people will not sit still for this!”
I shook my head and started walking away even as a quad of security guards that had been looking on uncaringly as the reporter heckled and badgered me immediately started walking our way.
“Don’t you walk away from—” started the reporter, but was blocked when she ran into an arm thrust in her way.
“Stand away,�
�� Akantha said coolly.
“That’s a second attack! This is suppression of the press—I demand my day in court!” the reporter said, a cruelly victorious smile crossing her face.
The security quad’s faces turned grim and they pulled out hand held stun-batons.
“Ma’am. Sir. We’re going to have to ask you to step away from—” began the leader of the Quad.
“You all heard her,” Akantha said, her voice filled with icy fury, “she admitted an attack occurred and cried for justice in the presence of a Tracto-an head of state.”
“Please calm down, Ma’am,” the lead security agent said with a stony, impassive demeanor.
“As the Hold Mistress of Messene, I hear your plea and formally accept your challenge. I wish to be clear that I am waiving my challenge immunity due, as it relates to her low status,” Akantha said officially and then turned back to the reporter. “Do you wish to designate a defender?” my Hold Mistress asked.
The reporter went bug-eyed and she started to back up, looking as if she’d just encountered a crazy person in the middle of the Assembly halls.
“Get this lunatic away from me. I demand you take her into custody immediately,” the reporter said, putting a hand on her hip as she turned and began instructing the guards.
“Please set away from the reporter, ma’am. This is a safe space,” instructed the Security Guard.
Akantha ignored her and stepped closer to the reporter. “Are you insulting my honor?” she asked in a dangerous voice.
“Help!” cried the reporter starting to panic.
The lead guard reached for Akantha, but I smoothly stepped in between them to block.
“You space witch! I’ll sue you for everything you have. You won’t be worth so much as a centi-cred if you don’t back up right now!” shouted the reporter.
“You refuse honorable challenge and then dare threaten me?” demanded Akantha.
This was getting out of hand. I motioned my armsmen forward with a two finger gesture.
I couldn’t see it, but I could hear the sound of a body hitting a wall and the resulting cry as one of my bodyguards flattened the reporter.
Admiral's Nemesis Part II Page 17
