Admiral Wachter strode into the compartment and nodded to the holograms. “We can discard the rest of the formalities,” he said, shortly. “Be seated.”
The holograms, blurring together into an indistinct mass, settled down. Penny took her chair and watched as Admiral Wachter took control of the display, presenting the sensor records from Parallax. It wasn't exactly a victory, despite Commodore Yamani’s boasts, but it was close enough to please her superiors. And besides, Imperial Intelligence wouldn't be coming for her.
“You can access the full sensor records later,” Admiral Wachter said, as he sat down. Unlike most commanding officers, he had insisted on allowing his officers full access to the sensor records, even from the unsuccessful battles. “The important detail is that the rebels are approaching Morrison. We may see them here at any moment.”
A low rustle ran through the chamber as the assembled officers reacted to the news. That, Penny knew, was why the Admiral had insisted on the holographic meeting. If the rebels attacked, the officers wouldn't have to flee back to their ships. But they might also see it as an insult, if they didn't think about it. Too many of the Morrison Fleet’s officers had made a career out of following orders without bothering to actually consider them.
“We have worked hard and trained hard for the coming battle,” the Admiral continued. “We can take pride in our achievements. We can fight and we can win, which is more than we could have done five months ago. But we dare not let ourselves be overconfident. The rebels have experienced officers, excellent ships and even new weapons. They will give us a hard challenge.
“But we will meet that challenge. And we will beat them.
“They have to come here,” he reminded them. “We will be ready.”
Penny nodded. The only real alternative for the rebels was to head directly to Earth – some of their raiders might have already reached the planet – but that would leave Morrison in their rear. Admiral Wachter and his fleet might set off for Jackson’s Folly, scorching or occupying every rebel-held world along their way. The populations they’d liberated would see Imperial Navy starships in their skies again, each one crammed with Blackshirts ready to purge the worlds of rebels and rebel supporters. No, she told herself. If the rebels wanted anything more than a bloody slaughter, they had to take out Morrison. It was the only way to safeguard their rear.
“I have told you, time and time again, that the Empire is necessary,” Admiral Wachter said softly. “Do not think about your patrons or your clients. Do not think about the good of your own career. Think, instead, of the importance of beating the rebels here and now. If we win this fight, we secure both our own futures and the future of humanity; if we lose, the Empire may come apart and humanity will be cast adrift on a violent sea as all the old grudges come back to haunt us.
“Today, we fight for everyone. Today, we put the good of the Empire ahead of our selfish desires.”
He looked up, his gaze passing over the holograms. “Make the Empire proud,” he ordered, quietly. “And don’t forget what we’re fighting for.”
Penny felt an odd lump in her throat as the silence grew and grew. But what did the Empire mean to her? She’d had hopes, once, of reaching a high rank by her own efforts. But she’d prostituted herself – there was no better word – to Percival, only to discover that no matter what she did, she would never be able to rise on her own. And Percival had beaten her, abused her physically and mentally ... and seemed ready to make her the scapegoat for his own failings.
And the Empire hadn't treated her any better. They’d interrogated her thoroughly, almost breaking her mind, before setting her loose and expecting her to still be faithful to them.
And yet ... she liked Admiral Wachter. He was admirable, very much a rarity among the senior officers she’d met. She wanted to please him, she wanted to impress him, even though there was no logical reason why the Empire should have her loyalty. It had used her, then tried to dispose of her when someone had to take the fall. And yet ... her thoughts ran in circles, mocking her. What did it say about her when she would happily give her loyalty to Wachter, a degree of commitment she had never offered to anyone else, while she found herself oddly unconcerned about the fate of the Empire?
“We will follow Combat Plan Nine,” Wachter said, his words breaking into her thoughts. “I want Force One” – he looked over at Commodore Yamani, who had been placed in command of Force One as a reward for her victory – “to depart within the hour. Use all necessary measures to remain unnoticed. We have to assume that the rebels are watching the system.”
Penny nodded. The advancing wave of rebel starships had long since passed Morrison, assuming that the handful of brutal attacks on supply convoys had been rebel ships. Some of the attacks had been thoroughly nasty, suggesting that pirates had returned to the Core Worlds. The Imperial Navy, so heavily tied up in defending Earth, Morrison and the other Core Worlds, was too badly overstretched to provide escorts. And each attack convinced shipping companies to keep their ships in orbit, rather than plying the spacelanes.
“Force Two will remain here, but go to full tactical alert,” Wachter added. “I want double shifts on duty at all times. All leaves are cancelled; if you still have crewmen on Morrison, call them back at once. When the rebels attack, I plan to be ready for them.
“Fortresses are also to go on full alert. Gunboats are to sweep the outer edges of the gravity shadow at all times, watching for rebel spies. But see to it that crews with special training are held back. We’re going to need them soon enough.”
He smiled, coldly. “This is the first time since Camelot that the rebels have faced an equal or superior force,” he told them. “It's time to make them remember why the Imperial Navy has never lost a war. Dismissed.”
Penny watched as the holograms blinked out, one by one, until they were alone in the compartment. Wachter looked tired, but there was an odd glint in his eye. It took her a moment to realise that he was actually looking forward to the coming battle. They’d planned as thoroughly as they could, exercised vigorously ... yet they wouldn't know how well they’d done until they were tested in fire. And besides, Wachter needed results. There were too many people who would blame him for any failure, no matter how minor.
He looked up at her, as if he was surprised to see her. “Yes, Captain?”
Penny hesitated, torn by a conflicting mixture of emotions. She wanted to ask him, openly, if the Empire was truly worth defending, yet she knew that it wasn't the time. Wachter hadn't bitten her head off for asking questions, no matter how sensitive, but he was truly loyal to the Empire. And then ... if he had been Percival, he would have insisted on taking her to bed, knowing it would help prepare him for the following day. But he wasn't Percival.
He could have asked – and she would have said yes. But he hadn't asked. He'd respected her right to choose. And, if she did make that decision, it would be hers.
She didn't know if the Empire truly deserved her loyalty. But Admiral Wachter certainly did.
“Make sure you sleep well, Admiral,” she said. If he wanted to invite her to his bed ... angrily, she pushed the thought aside. He wasn't Percival. “We don't know when they’ll be here.”
“Soon,” Wachter said. He gave her a tired smile. “The waiting is worst of all, apart from the fighting.”
His smile widened. “Make sure you sleep well too, Captain. I’m going to need you when the shit finally hits the fan.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“All ships report ready, sir.”
Colin took a breath. He’d slept about as well as he’d expected, which wasn't that well. In the end, he’d resorted to a pill for induced sleep, which had left him feeling sick for several minutes after he’d woken up. But there had been no choice, he told himself, as he washed and ate his breakfast. He couldn’t go into battle tired after a sleepless night.
“Set coordinates,” he said. “Jump in thirty seconds.”
His stomach clenched in anticipation a
s the timer ticked down to zero. Space twisted around the superdreadnaught, flickering them into the Morrison System. Colin winced at the all-too-familiar sensation in his gut, then forced himself to concentrate on the display. It was already filling up with icons. There were enough surrounding Morrison itself to make up a small galaxy.
“Jump completed, sir,” the XO reported. “Combat datanet established, datalinks up and running.”
“Launch drones,” Colin ordered. There was no point in trying to hide. Even a blind man wouldn't have missed over two hundred starships flickering into the system. “Deploy the first squadrons as planned.”
He watched as the seconds ticked by. The enemy fortresses were already coming to full alert, while the superdreadnaughts brought up their drives and defensive shields. Their training showed, Colin realised grimly. They'd definitely exercised heavily over the past few months, enough to get their operations down to a fine art. Maybe they didn't have many first-rate commanding officers, he saw, but they had at least one good Admiral.
“Transmit our message,” he said. One wave of drones was already plunging towards the planet, a second was spreading out around the Shadow Fleet. The first set of drones would be eliminated as soon as they came within enemy weapons range, but they would have time to provide more accurate information on the enemy positions before they died. “And inform me if there is any response.”
Piece by piece, the display updated itself. As Colin had expected, the enemy fleet remained near the planet, trapped within the gravity shadow. They wouldn't be able to retreat for much longer, he knew; it wouldn't be long before his fleet would be able to intercept them if they tried to run. But it would be a foolish move ...
They’d be much safer near the planetary defences, he reminded himself. And our enemy, whoever he is, is hardly a fool.
The seconds ticked by as the fleet continued its deployment. Newer installations appeared on the display as the sensors picked them out, only to be dismissed; Colin had no intention of raiding the rest of the system unless there was no other alternative. Ideally, he wanted Morrison intact. But he had a feeling the enemy commander wasn't going to let him take it so easily. The enemy ships were defiantly holding their ground.
“Continue towards primary target,” he ordered, finally. Maybe the enemy would come out to fight ...
... Or maybe they would have to charge straight into a meatgrinder after all.
***
Penny had been dozing in her bunk when the alarms sounded. She promptly rolled out of bed, grabbed her uniform and pulled it on, then ran for the hatch. Somewhat to her annoyance, Admiral Wachter had beaten her to the flag deck and taken his place in the heart of the giant Combat Information Centre. The massive display showed hundreds of red icons advancing towards the planet with deadly intent. There were so many of them, combined with the rebel ECM, that the sensors weren’t even sure just how many enemy starships there were.
“Launch drones,” Admiral Wachter ordered, calmly. “Hang the beancounters for once.”
He looked over as Penny came to a halt beside him. “You’ll notice, I hope, that the rebels want me to do something?”
“Yes, sir,” Penny said. “They want you to come out and fight.”
“And if I was a young idiot, I’d do just that,” Wachter said. He grinned at her, pressing his fingertips together. “They seem to have jumped in too far from the planet, but they’re trying to tempt me. If I take the fleet away, they would have a chance to catch us in the gravity shadow, but outside the effective range of the orbital fortifications. We’d certainly get hurt badly before we made it out.”
His smile grew wider. “But we need to make them think we’re idiots,” he added. “Let us prepare for a desperate and futile flight.”
“Yes, sir,” Penny said.
The communications officer turned to face the Admiral. “Sir, we’re picking up an all-ships transmission from the rebel fleet,” she said. “They’re beaming it right across the system.”
Wachter nodded, unsurprised. “Let’s hear it.”
Penny lifted her eyebrows as the rebel commander began to speak. “This is Admiral Colin Walker of the Shadow Fleet, representing the Popular Front. I call on you to surrender your ships and fortifications. If you surrender, we will return you to the Empire or intern you, if you do not wish to join us. But you will not have to die for an Empire that is slowly sucking the life out of humanity.
“Think about it! The Empire has destroyed uncounted millions of lives at the behest of the Thousand Families. Your lives, too, have been blighted by their greed. How many of you have been denied promotion because you didn't have the right connections or family ties? How many of you have had to watch helplessly as injustice reigns supreme? Join us – help us put an end to it all.”
“Interesting argument,” Wachter muttered, making a slicing motion across his throat. The signal cut out. “And one that would have fallen on listening ears, a few months ago.”
Penny nodded. Wachter had taken more than a few precautions against another round of mutinies. Armed Marines were stationed on the larger ships, crews had been reshuffled randomly to break up any conspiracy networks and everyone had been kept thoroughly busy, as well as treated decently for the first time in years. But it was quite possible, she knew, that the rebels would convince others to join them. There might even be a mutiny on General Clive.
“Keep preparing for combat,” Wachter added. “And deploy the second flight of drones.”
“Yes, sir,” Penny said.
The seconds ticked away. There was no mutiny, nor even any unrest as far as anyone could tell. Penny looked over at the Admiral and felt an odd thrill of admiration. There simply weren't any other officers who could have upended everything, who could have made the decent officers and men feel they had a future, and had the nerve to face down Imperial Intelligence. If it had been Percival, she knew, there would have been a competition to see who could mutiny first.
She studied the rebel fleet as the drones revealed more of its nature, before they were picked off one by one. Forty-seven superdreadnaughts, all clearly in tip-top condition; twenty-two bulk freighters that the tactical computers classed as probably arsenal ships. Penny suspected they were right. No one in their right mind would bring a bulk freighter into a war zone. The ships were too slow to escape and utterly unarmed. Behind them, there were over a hundred and fifty smaller ships, ranging from battlecruisers to destroyers. The only oddity was the absence of gunboats.
“Their point defence network is definitely better than standard,” Wachter commented. He nodded towards the display, where the remaining drones were trying to pick up as much as they could before they died. But even losing a drone told them something about the enemy network. “Maybe as good as twenty to thirty percent more efficient.”
Penny ran it through in her head. Maybe not good enough to make a real difference, but the sides seemed to be evenly matched. Having a better point defence would definitely give the enemy some advantages. She studied their formation, then smiled when she realised that the enemy had pushed out their smaller ships to intercept missiles from Morrison. But they were still out of range ...
“They’re taking advantage of the delay to get ready,” Wachter said. “Apart from the arsenal ships, I see no other non-standard ships in the formation. Do you concur?”
“Yes, sir,” Penny said. She hesitated, then voiced her opinion. “But that doesn't mean they don't have other surprises ...”
“No, it doesn’t,” Wachter agreed. “But we can’t let fear hold us back, either.”
Penny looked up at the display, at the looming rebel fleet advancing towards them, and shuddered.
***
Colin watched, grimly, as the enemy fleet remained where it was, under the covering fire of the orbital fortresses. There were probably civilians on the planet right now, screaming curses at the military officers for not trying to defend the rest of the system, but it was precisely the right move. The enemy c
ommander seemed to have more freedom than any normal officer would have been allowed.
It made no sense! Colin had been Percival’s aide long enough to know that Admirals were never given complete freedom of action, no matter who they were. If they were clients, they were suspected of wanting to place their patron on the throne; if they were aristocrats, they were assumed to be building up their own power bases. No Admiral with such a large fleet under his command would be allowed to operate completely independently. There was normally a triad of senior officers, while Imperial Intelligence would monitor their every move and make careful note of everything they did. Even eating the wrong food could damage a career.
But this commander seemed to have complete freedom of operation ...
“No response, sir,” the communications officer said.
“No hint of a mutiny either,” the tactical officer added. “They seem loyal – or they have guns pointed at their heads.”
“Understood,” Colin said.
He allowed himself a moment of frustration, then pushed his irritation aside. The new commander had had around six months to prepare Morrison for attack. He had probably vetted his commanding officers, assigned Marines to various starships and taken whatever other precautions suggested themselves. The last set of mutinies had succeeded through luck and good judgement. It was relatively easy to secure a starship if one had enough time to make preparations.
All right, smartass, he told himself, recalling what Percival had once called him. Time to see if you really are the tactical genius you’re supposed to be.
“Fall into Attack Pattern Charlie-Omega,” he ordered, reluctantly. There was no hope of a quick and bloodless victory. They’d just have to hope that the enemy commander didn't have any other surprises up his sleeve. “As soon as the formation is assumed, take us towards the planet.”
“Aye, sir,” the tactical officer said.
***
“They’re not raiding the system?”
Democracy's Right: Book 02 - Democracy's Might Page 24
