Fortitude (Scattered Stars: Conviction Book 4)

by Glynn Stewart

  “So, you know what their goal is in any given region, yes?”

  “To create a military hegemon capable of enforcing peace,” Zoric said grimly. “It’s what they wanted to make Redward. It’s what they made the Crest, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Panosyan said bluntly. “The Bank of the Royal Crest and the Navy of the Royal Crest spent the best part of half a century under my grandmother, who was King before my father, creating our network of ‘client worlds.’”

  They grimaced.

  “Our client worlds are blatant tributaries,” they admitted. “Tied up in a net of loan obligations, treaties and defense contracts that leave them unable to carry out their own foreign policy or maintain significant nova-capable forces.

  “They send money, resources—even people, through various placement and immigration programs—to the Royal Crest to support the Bank and the Navy.”

  Panosyan shook their head.

  “My grandmother, King Kyung-Hee Panosyan, started out determined to protect the Crest from the threats around us,” they said quietly. “That spilled into protecting the Crest’s friends…and went rapidly downhill from there. I do not believe that the Institute became involved until nearly the end of her life.

  “But by the time she passed and my-father-the-King”—the current Panosyan heir reeled that off as almost a single word—“took the throne, the Sanctuary and Prosperity Party had been the Crown’s favorite in Parliament for eleven years, rising from fifth-party status to junior partner in the ruling coalition over three elections.”

  The Crester spread their hands.

  “My father was not…” They hesitated. “My father does not speak, even to me, of his decisions then. I believe that he feels he was weak. I know that he regrets his choices.”

  “Sung Panosyan has been King of the Royal Crest for twenty-six standard years,” Zoric said quietly.

  Kira figured that Zoric had looked up King Sung’s name on her headware. She’d been considering it herself, but she suspected that the Cresters were running a scanner on the room to check for bugs.

  That same scanner would detect her connecting to the station network for information.

  “He has,” the younger Panosyan agreed. “I was eight years old when he became King. And for twenty-six standard years, my father has supported and expanded the client network of the Royal Crest. He has maintained exactly the kind of economic and military hegemony the Equilibrium Institute desires—one with absolute control inside its own territory but also one lacking the strength to push outward.

  “But that also means, my mercenary friends, that the majority of the worlds in our client network have been our clients for more than twenty-six years. To both my father and myself, that represents a responsibility.

  “If a world pays us for protection, we are obliged to honor that task,” they said calmly. “And as we bear that responsibility and honor that responsibility, it earns us the beginnings of goodwill.

  “And goodwill represents opportunity.”

  Another knock at the door announced the arrival of the entrée—and Kira had more than merely food to digest as she ate now.

  The meal was grilled spiced chicken served over a bed of rice pilaf with vegetables. It certainly looked like gourmet food—but as Kira dug into it, she found it only reinforced her suspicion from the soup and salad courses.

  Chef Concepta Pitt’s kitchen was making its way on exclusivity and presentation far more than it was on making good food. That left Kira figuring either Chef Pitt had outsourced the actual cooking long before—or was just a marketing genius and a merely okay chef.

  The other possibility, she supposed, was that Jade Panosyan’s takeover of the restaurant for the evening had seriously pissed the chef off.

  Still, the food at least dodged the usual bullet of high-end restaurants she’d encountered: the presentation had not come at the expense of quantity, and she was feeling pleasantly full by the time the servers cleared the plates away.

  “And when would the guests like desserts?” the server asked.

  “Bring coffee and brandy for now, then check in in thirty minutes,” Panosyan instructed. “Thank you.”

  The servers had the drinks ready in a minute or so, then vanished to leave the three of them alone.

  “You cannot expect that just keeping pirates suppressed is going to make your client network suddenly like you,” Zoric said after a few moments of silence.

  “No, I don’t,” Panosyan agreed. “But it’s a starting point, one to build on if we make the right next steps. I believe that the relationships and political associations that we have built throughout our client network give us a chance few regions of the galaxy have.

  “I believe, and my father is willing to lay the groundwork if nothing else, that we have an opportunity to convert the Royal Crest’s client network into a true multi-stellar federal republic.”

  Whatever Jade Panosyan was, they certainly didn’t think small. To Kira’s knowledge, there were very few true multi-stellar states. That Redward was technically one now had drawn attention from significant distances.

  “We’re a long way from SolFed out here,” Kira murmured.

  “And I’m not trying to rebuild the Solar Federation,” Panosyan replied. They poured small servings of brandy into three coffees and passed them across the table. “But we already have a lot of the structures of a multi-stellar nation in the client network; they’re just all one-way.

  “Converting that into an actual nation of partners will be difficult.” They shook their head. “It will be my life’s work, Commodore, but I need to clear one giant obstacle out of the way first.”

  “Hence us,” Kira guessed.

  “The Sanctuary and Prosperity Party is no longer the junior partner in a ruling coalition,” the Crown Zharang told them. “The SPP has been the largest party in our Parliament for twenty years and held a non-coalition majority government for ten. Nothing…strange about that, I suppose. But they’ve now been in government, as either a partner or a sole party, for thirty years.

  “And they have been using that status ruthlessly,” Panosyan said grimly. “They have not gone so far as to create a single-party state, but they have taken complete control of much of the apparatus of the government of the Royal Crest.

  “The Navy theoretically answers to my father, but Sanctuary and Prosperity members have been giving each other helping hands up for two decades. Loyalty to the Party now matters more, I fear, than skill—or loyalty to my-father-the-King.”

  Kira considered the situation as she took a sip of the coffee. At least Chef Pitt’s had good coffee—she suspected there’d be a revolt if a high-end restaurant near Redward didn’t.

  “I’ll admit, Em Panosyan, that I don’t see how Memorial Force can help you,” she said. “We have four warships and roughly eighty nova fighters. Against the might of the Navy of the Royal Crest, even ignoring the defenses of the Crest itself, we are completely outmatched and outgunned.”

  “We need to overthrow the Sanctuary and Prosperity Party,” their host told them. “Right now, my father retains control of most of the planetary-level judiciary and law enforcement—and we have enough evidence to order warrants for the search of the houses and offices of the entire senior leadership of the SPP.”

  “Then why do you need us?” Kira asked.

  “Because they control Parliament, the Guard and much of the Navy,” Panosyan told them. “If we were to move against the SPP, my-father-the-King would be impeached within an hour—and the police officers trying to search SPP offices would be met by soldiers.

  “Our best case would be civil war,” they concluded, their voice soft. “The worst case…a swift replacement of myself and my father with a more cooperative member of the family. While no name comes to mind, I’m sure they could find someone obedient with some claim to the throne.”

  “You’re afraid of a coup,” Zoric said quietly.

  “No. There would be no point to the SPP la
unching a coup at this point,” the royal told them. “They control my world. While my goal is to restore my father to control of his government and hold new, free elections…what we are discussing is a coup against the functional government of my planet.”

  “A legitimately elected government, even if it is allied with the Equilibrium Institute,” Kira noted. “They may be allied with my enemies, but I still hesitate to overthrow anyone’s legitimate government.

  “Not to mention that I still don’t see any way this isn’t a suicide mission.”

  She leaned back and took another sip of the brandy-laced coffee. She expected Jade Panosyan had an answer to both of those challenges, but she was curious what those answers were.

  “Our best guess is that the SPP infiltrated and took control of our election monitors fifteen years ago,” the Crester said. “Since then, it feels like entire blocs of our population have been disenfranchised—our official voter-turnout percentage hasn’t changed, but the number of votes cast has declined dramatically.

  “And this has gone hand-in-hand with the final rise of the SPP,” they concluded. “I do not, Commodore Demirci, believe that the government of my planet is legitimately elected. That, in fact, is the main crime we believe we can prove. The wedge with which we believe, given the chance, we can bring down Prime Minister Maral Jeong and her entire organization.

  “But I need you to give us that chance.”

  “You have a plan,” Kira said. It wasn’t a question—the situation as Jade Panosyan had laid it out was insurmountable. So, if they didn’t have a plan, there was no point to having the meeting.

  “I do.” They tapped the holoprojector disk again, restoring the image of Fortitude.

  “Fortitude is the newest and most advanced carrier the Navy of the Royal Crest has ever built,” they explained. “She is approximately three months from completion as we speak. Once that is done, she will undergo a series of trials of her onboard systems, including her nova drive.

  “Her officers and crew have already been picked. They are SPP loyalists to a one. As part of her trials and to honor those officers, the Prime Minister and key members of the Cabinet are planning to make a secret trip aboard to inspect the ship and her crew.”

  “I’m assuming they are not so foolish as to make the inspection while the ship is away from the planet’s defenses?” Kira asked.

  “We are not certain of the schedule yet,” their potential employer told her. “But we know that the nova-drive tests will be prior to the inspection. She will spend time in the outer system and at the nearby trade-route stops before the Prime Minister comes aboard.

  “Where she will be vulnerable.”

  Kira drained her coffee and glanced over at Zoric.

  “What do you think?” she silently messaged her Flag Captain.

  “I’m willing to take just about any swing at Equilibrium,” Zoric admitted. “But this is still risky.”

  “On the other hand, we keep the carrier.”

  “How exactly do you see this working?” Kira asked aloud.

  “You seize the ship, the Prime Minister and the Cabinet,” Panosyan told them. “You nova to a nearby client system, where you pretend to be pirates and demand a ransom for Prime Minister Jeong.

  “While she and her Cabinet are missing, we will take advantage of the confusion to execute warrants on the offices of the SPP. Hopefully, by the time we receive your ransom demand, we should have proof of Jeong’s crimes.”

  The Crester shrugged.

  “We pay you the ransom—the final portion of your cash payment—and collect Jeong and the Cabinet to face trial. You leave with the carrier. Everyone wins.”

  “Except that the galaxy thinks we stole Fortitude,” Kira pointed out. “That’s not exactly a good thing for our reputation.”

  “I suspect most potential clients will work out the reality of the situation relatively quickly,” Panosyan observed. “And others…well, that you stole a supercarrier from under the guns of a major power won’t hurt your reputation.

  “We will provide proper documentation after the fact to cover your ownership of her.”

  That didn’t quite cover all of Kira’s concerns, but she had to admit she was tempted by the carrier. Twice the size of Conviction—thirty kilocubics larger than anything Redward was building or her home system had.

  “And the cash payment, Crown Zharang?” Zoric asked.

  “Thank you,” Kira messaged the other woman. That was important as well.

  “The majority of the payment will be Fortitude, of course,” Panosyan pointed out. “She cost just over one hundred billion crests to construct, after all.”

  “The construction cost of the carrier won’t cover the operational expenses of our fleet,” Kira said. “To take on this mission, we will need to negotiate at least a temporary release from our retainer with Redward.

  “That leaves us absorbing approximately four million Redward kroner a standard month in costs,” she continued. “That’s roughly two and a half million crests. The value of the carrier is enough to potentially convince me to take this mission, but you will still need to cover at least a standard fee in cash.”

  “Twenty million,” Jade Panosyan said instantly. “Five million on signing the contract. Five million on reaching the region of space around the Crest. Ten million as the ‘ransom’ for Prime Minister Jeong.”

  That wasn’t much more than their standard retainer for six months. On the other hand, while the mission was going to entail a lot of risk—and Kira was hesitant around including the carrier as part of the value of the package—even only including one percent of the carrier’s value would make it one of their most lucrative contracts ever.

  “That covers us,” Zoric said in her head.

  “The risk is insane,” Kira pointed out. “I want to stick a knife in Equilibrium and this is a huge opportunity, but it could go very, very wrong.”

  “So, we plan for everything we can and get ready to cut loose if we have to,” Zoric replied. “I think we can do it—and that carrier is a hell of a carrot to lure us with.”

  “I want her,” Kira admitted. “Is that impacting our judgment?”

  “That’s why Panosyan has her on the board. But…how else are we going to get a carrier this year, let alone a supercarrier? I’m in. But you’re the fifty-one percent.”

  Kira inhaled and nodded.

  “Commodore?” Jade Panosyan asked.

  “We’re in,” Kira told them. “We’ll need to sort out some details here in Redward, but we’re in.”

  11

  “You want us to what?”

  Commander Milani was, as always, clad in full body armor from head to toe. Today, their armor was a dull black color—except for the inevitable red dragon writhing around in a fit of what was either rage or passion. Kira wasn’t sure.

  The command meeting was larger than she really liked, but Memorial Force was far larger than even Conviction and Memorial Squadron combined. Raccoon was enough smaller than Conviction had been that the cubage difference wasn’t as large as it could be, but it was still four ships instead of two.

  Which meant Kira’s meeting aboard Deception had four Captains, four executive officers, two Commanders, Nova Group, herself and the ground-force commander.

  The meeting room was large enough for them with room to spare—but Deception had been designed as a secondary flagship when she’d originally been laid down. She’d been intended to lead groups of destroyers away from the carriers.

  “The plan calls for the ground forces to board Fortitude in deep space and seize control from her crew,” Kira told Milani, glancing around her officers. “She will have a minimal crew, likely with only limited security forces aboard, as she’s undergoing her trials.

  “I presume, though we have no data yet, that Fortitude will be escorted by other NRC ships that we will have to destroy,” she continued bluntly. “Identifying the appropriate moment to make the strike will be key to carrying this out
successfully.”

  “The Navy of the Royal Crest,” McCaig repeated, his voice stunned. “They could surround her with battlecruisers, sirs. We’re a bit out of our weight class here.”

  “And that’s why we’re going to play this very carefully,” Kira agreed. “We have received an advance payment that will cover our operating costs for the journey to Crest, so we are committed to at least making the attempt.

  “That said, one of the things I do have is a complete listing of the current strength of the Navy of the Royal Crest, and they’d have a great deal of trouble filling space with battlecruisers,” she noted. “Their pre-Fortitude ships are comparable to the best of Brisingr or Apollo’s fleets, Twelve-to-Thirteen-X ten-kilocubic nova drives, pushing one hundred and twenty to one hundred and thirty kilocubics.

  “Inside those parameters, they have six fleet carriers and six battlecruisers,” she told them. “They have another six older carriers in the ninety-to-one-hundred-and-ten-kilocubic range, along with ten cruisers in that range.

  “All told, they possess twenty-eight capital ships supported by eighty-five lighter warships, including four fifty-kilocubic CVLs.”

  There was a long silence in the briefing room and Kira smiled.

  “So, yes, they have sixteen carriers to our one—and their baby flattops are bigger and better than our one,” she agreed. “They have sixteen cruisers in play, all bigger than ours, plus another eighty-one destroyers and corvettes.

  “The Navy of the Royal Crest is a first-class military by Rim standards. Which makes them, what, eighth-rate by the standards of the whole galaxy?”

  That was where Apollo and Brisingr tended to get classified, and the Crest was in roughly the same league as Kira’s home system and their enemy. Redward was still clawing their way into ninth-rate standards, though Konrad Bueller had given them some handy kickstarts.

  That worthy leaned forward thoughtfully, looking at the hologram of the Crest System that Kira had hanging over the conference-room table.

  “If they follow usual practices for first-round trials after completion, they’ll only have about twenty-five percent of the crew aboard Fortitude,” Bueller noted softly. “Security contingent will be yard security, not real marines or commandos. They might have some fighters aboard to test the systems, but in the main, she’ll be mostly empty for the first nova trials. Just in case.”