Phoenix Dawn: A Phoenix Empire Novel
Author: Dietmar Wehr
Date: 2021-05-23T18:00:00+00:00
Description: This 108,000-word novel will appeal to fans of military SF, Galactic Empire and Space Opera genres. It is available in Kindle Unlimited. Book 2 of the series entitled Phoenix Rebirth, is now available for pre-order. The collapse of the breakaway System States Alliance leaves the corrupt and rickety 800-year-old Federation victorious but nearly bankrupt. Among the military equipment it is forced to abandon on the planet Poictesme is the ultra-secret super-computer codenamed Merlin, that managed the strategic, tactical, logistical and administrative aspects of the interstellar war so well. The t
Publisher: Non-Linear Visions Inc.

Phoenix Dawn

By Dietmar Arthur Wehr

Amazon edition

Copyright Non-Linear Visions Inc. 2021

This is my 28th novel. You can find all my books, many of which are available in Kindle Unlimited on my website.

https://www.dwehrsfwriter.com

Introduction:

Before you dive into this story, I’d like to give credit where credit is due. The background to this story, which includes the political structure of the multi-star system civilization eight centuries from now, the fact that an interstellar civil war had just been concluded, and some of the characters, were created by a mid-20th century science fiction writer by the name of H. Beam Piper. It’s the backdrop to what is now referred to by his fans as his Terro-human future history, which spans 3,000 years. Many of his novels and short stories take place in this future history, and all of those works are now in the public domain and can therefore be used by other writers.

I’ve been a fan of Piper since my university days when I came across his novel, Cosmic Computer. It takes place four decades after the interstellar civil war and weaves a gripping story around a big-picture concept. Thirty-five years after reading Cosmic Computer, my first attempt at writing a science fiction novel was a sequel to CC, that I attempted to write in the same writing style that Piper used himself. This novel is not that novel. This novel is something new. It’s set in the same Terro-human future history as Cosmic Computer but takes place earlier and is the springboard to a completely different ‘what if’ future history. One way to think of this novel is to consider it as taking place in a parallel universe that branches off from Piper’s universe at the end of the System States Alliance war. You don’t have to have read any of his books to understand what’s happening in this one. But if you’re interested in the kind of science fiction that was written in the 50s and early 60s, then I would encourage you to read my revised Cosmic Computer sequel (Cosmic Computer Legacy: The Tides of Chaos). It’s the 2nd edition of that story and also includes Piper’s Cosmic Computer for those who would prefer to read the original novel rather than rely on a synopsis. I hope you’ll enjoy this new take on Piper’s future history.

D.A.W. (February 2nd, 2021)

Contents

Cast of Characters (in alphabetical order):

Glossary of Terms:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Author’s Comments:

Cast of Characters (in alphabetical order):

Federation:

Cptn. Hugh Arlett – Navy Intelligence officer

Col. Leonhard Augustin- Army officer

Adm. Margarete Christiansen – Chief of Naval Logistics

Commodore Collin Carter – CO, Capital Fleet

Gen. Mikhel Curtis – Army Chief of Intelligence

Catharine DeChastelaine – Federation President

Specialist Anne Fossi – Crecy Flight Engineer

Cptn./Adm. Cornelia Granger – Naval officer/CNO

Lt. Jarko Haldane – Navy logistics officer

Cmdr. Evelyn Hastings – Fed Navy officer

Adm. Niklas Hronek – Chief of Naval Intelligence

Cptn. Marlene Hubner – CO, Agincourt

Captain Johansen – Navy Inspection Team Leader

Lt. Maria Keller – Navy logistics officer

Adm. Angelo Khegan – Chief of Fed Navy

Aldus Kondratti- Fed Army Intelligence agent on Poictesme

Cmdr. Anton Koslov – Matsu’s XO

Cptn. Rachel Kwon – Army Intelligence officer

Zacharia Laurentian – Speaker of Fed Grand Assembly

Adm. Chen Lee – Chairman of Fed Joint Chiefs of Staff

Yvonne Maddock – Grand Assembly Delegate from Ashmodai

Lt. Francesca Magilen- Navy Intelligence officer

Gen. Sam Mahan – Chief of Fed Army

Lt. Travis Malenkov – Crecy auxiliary craft pilot

Lt. Howard Manson – TO, Saguntum

Cptn. Eriko Matsu – CO, Waterloo

Sam Murchison – Minister-General of Poictesme

Simeon O’Brien – Fed Navy undercover agent at Barathrum

Gen. Glenn Santander – Army officer/CAO

Lt. Hannah Spangen – Matsu’s AO

Sen. Lt. Tomonaga – Army Intelligence agent

Gen. Foxx Travis – Commander of the Third Fleet-Army Force during the war.

Maj. Hanna Vincennes – Army Intelligence officer (on Poictesme)

Captain Jim Wojac – CO, Reserve Force/Gamma Squadron

Rebel:

Cptn. Rachel Armstrong – CO, Savannah

Maj. Roscoe Allenby – ex-SSA ground force officer

Sen. Lt. Brice Allfrey – Siegel’s EO

Aren Bentrik – ex-SSA naval officer/Phoenix Two

Lt. Maggy Bardasano – Lexington TO

Elon Borzov – Bentrik’s administrative assistant

Sen. Lt. Kalyca Brosnan – Siegel’s HO

Mohammed Carsten – Barathrum Complex Manager

Sen. Lt. Naomi Christy – Siegel’s TO

Maj. Adelaide Evans – CO, refugee fleet security force

Cptn. Gail Foley – CO, Lexington

Cmdr. Luiz Gowan – XO, Savannah

Dan Hassov – Head of FTL upgrade team at Site Y

Anne Hasselberg – refugee fleet linguist

Sen. Cptn. Huang Takano – CO, Refugee fleet

Cptn. Philip Kammerling – CO, light cruiser Vampire

Sarteeni Kamstra – Mardukan billionaire

Vegar Luff – FTL Project Director on Abigor

Cmdr. Faith Michael – Executive Officer, light cruiser Vampire

Lt. Todd Paxon – Astrogation Officer, light cruiser Vampire

Cptn. Michael Philips – CO, Yorktown

Cmdr./Cptn. Anton Raycraft – CO, Phantom

Cmdr. Jason Rensi – Siegel’s XO

Lt. Ian Rozak – refugee fleet assault shuttle pilot

Col. Hubert Santari – Cmdr of rebel fleet shock troops

Cptn. Jiri Siegel – Rebel naval officer

Akira Toyoda – Manager of Koshchei Shipyard #3

Lt. Lars Womack – Siegel’s AO

Other:

Julie Konidas – Doctor

Morgan Gatworth – Banker in the capital city of Storisende.

Cptn. Jan Hargraves – CO, City of Montevideo freighter

Police Inspector Torrea

Jake Vyckhoven - Lawyer in the capital city of Storisende.

Glossary of Terms:

ASM – Anti-ship missile

AMM – Anti-missile missile

Ecliptic – The two-dimensional disk that contains all the orbits of planets.

Umbra – Shadow cast be a planetary body.

CNO – Chief of Naval Operations

CAO – Chief of Army Operations

CO – Commanding Officer

XO – Executive Officer

EO – Engineering Officer

TO – Tactical Officer

HO – Helm Officer

I wish to gratefully acknowledge the following Patreon supporters, who have made pledges at the Vice-Admiral Level.

Jeremy Vollmer

Todd Paxson

Robert McDonald

Spencer Parrish

Michael C Balog

Kirby Fisher

J D McNaul

James Schreffler

Emilio Franchy

Jeffrey Price

Mark McKenzie

Jill Graves

David L Kinney

JL

Kam pcs

Prologue:

The planet Abigor, System States Alliance, Year 854 of the Atomic Era (2797 A.D.)

Captain Philip Kammerling stepped off the boarding ramp of his light cruiser, Vampire, and looked around at the spaceport, what there was of it, and the nearby city. Abigor was located at the outer edge of human-occupied space and was the SSA planet furthest away from the fighting. Before the war, it had been a sleepy backwater colony with a moderately comfortable biosphere and a population that hated the Federation so much, they tried to get as far away from it as possible.

But early in the war, the SSA leadership had decided that it needed a dedicated R&D center to investigate potential military breakthroughs, and Abigor was chosen precisely because of its isolation. Freighters had brought in scientific equipment and experts along with their families from hundreds of universities on SSA planets. Kammerling could make out which buildings were built from that project and which ones were prewar. The city had practically doubled in size during the war. He sensed his XO, Faith Michael, come up to stand beside him.

“Shouldn’t there be some ground transport here to take us into the city?” she asked.

“Yes, there should be. We told them to have it ready on our way in. But what can you expect from civilians in general and scientists in particular. They don’t understand that when the military says something is urgent, it means drop whatever you’re doing and take care of this first.”

Michael hesitated before speaking in a quiet voice. “Is it really over, Philip?”

Kammerling took a deep breath before answering. “The top Brass feel that there’s no way we can win the war now. The fighting will still go on for a few more months, given how long it takes for orders to reach the front, but it’s only a matter of time before the SSA collapses and the Feds coming charging in to enact what they’ll call justice. That’s why we’re here. The last report we got from the scientists here was that they thought they had made a breakthrough in jump drive technology. If they have, then that’s exactly what Operation Sword needs.”

“It’s just that I hate the idea of leaving Marduk with the knowledge that I’ll never see it again,” she said.

“Don’t think of it like that. Think of it in terms of a grand adventure, finding a new untouched world to build a new Marduk, a better Marduk, although I’m sure we’ll call it something else.”

“Excalibur,” said Michael.

“What?”

“The name of the new colony. This is Operation Sword, so why not call the new colony after the most famous sword in mythology, Excalibur. The sword that King Arthur used to build Camelot into a grand and just kingdom.”

“Excalibur. Hmm, I like it. Okay, now that we’ve got that important decision made, where the hell is that ground transport?”

“I think I see it coming now.”

The vehicle that pulled up in front of them in a cloud of dust was prewar and rundown. The back door lifted up slowly. Kammerling waited to make sure it wasn’t going to fall back down on them as they entered.

“Sorry for the delay,” said the driver, who turned out to be a young woman. “I came here as soon as my father asked me to pick you up.”

“You know where to take us?” asked Kammerling.

“Absolutely. The Academy of Sciences offices, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Great! Sit back and enjoy the ride. I like to drive fast when I get the chance, so I’m going to gun this thing!”

Kammerling was relieved when the vehicle pulled up in front of the AoS building. Did these people not know how to install an autopilot into their ground vehicles? As he and Michael got out, he thanked their driver, who grinned back and waved as the vehicle accelerated quickly away.

“Who are we supposed to be meeting?” asked Michael.

“A man by the name of Vegar Luff. He’s the Director of Propulsion Projects.” Before Michael could respond, they both heard someone shouting at them.

“Ah, there you are!” The voice came from the building’s main entrance at the top of a set of stone stairs.

“I’m Captain Kammerling, and this is my Executive Officer, Commander Michael. Are you Vegar Luff?” asked Kammerling as the well-dressed man came down to them.

“That’s correct. I see that my daughter managed to get both of you here in one piece. We wondered when the High Command would send someone. How goes the war? We don’t get much war news out here, you know.”

Kammerling and Michael exchanged glances. “Let’s go to your office first, and I’ll be glad to bring you up to speed on the war, Director Luff,” said Kammerling.

“Yes, of course. Where are my manners? Come this way, please.”

It didn’t take long to arrive at Luff’s office, which was not the largest office Kammerling had ever seen but wasn’t the smallest either. Luff gestured for them to sit in two comfortable chairs that were facing his impressive desk, which he proceeded to sit behind.

“Now then, you were about to brief me on the war. The last news we heard was about the Federation attack on Ashmodai and the destruction of Kindelburg. I hope the Alliance has been able to make the Feds pay for that atrocity.”

“I don’t have good news for you. The Alliance Navy has suffered several defeats with tremendous losses. The High Command has ordered Operation Sword into effect. That operation involves the evacuation of the most important families from the major Alliance planets to avoid prosecution when the Federation’s inevitable victory comes to pass. There’s no way that the Alliance can win the war now. The collapse has already started. Your propulsion breakthrough might be key to saving thousands of Alliance loyalists from an unjust and humiliating fate at the hands of the Federation legal system, Director.”

The blood had drained from Luff’s face, his expression now one of shock. “My God. Some of us suspected that this breakthrough was too late to change the outcome of the war, but we kept hoping in order to keep our spirits up and keep working. What exactly do you expect from us now?”

“Can this jump-drive breakthrough be adapted to a standard drive or does the entire jump-drive have to be removed and rebuilt?” asked Kammerling.

“A standard jump drive can be modified. We figured out how to do that in order to test the new technology and also because upgrading a jump-drive in situ would be a lot faster than replacing the old drive with a completely new one. Unnecessary too.”

“How quickly can you upgrade my ship’s jump drive? Hours? Days? Weeks?”

Luff shook his head. “Not weeks. Days, maybe even hours. I’ll get my team to start work on it right away. I presume that there’s more to Operation Sword than just your ship.”

“That’s correct. More ships will be coming here and will have to be upgraded as quickly as possible. Some will be light cruisers like my Vampire, and others will be freighters carrying civilians. They may have had to leave in a hurry and might be short of supplies. The Colony here on Abigor might be called upon to donate supplies for the evacuation. In fact, Vampire will need to have her food and other supplies topped up because we'll be doing the advance scouting to find a new home for the refugees. By the way, how much faster will the new jump-drive be?”

Luff grinned. “Ten times faster. One lightyear every hour.”

“Amazing,” said Michael. She looked at Kammerling. “We’ll be able to head much farther out now.” Kammerling nodded.

“Why would you want to go further out?” asked a puzzled Luff.

“The Federation will eventually expand outward, and the people who’ve planned Operation Sword don’t want to have the new colony found by Federation ships in their lifetimes or in the lifetimes of their children. That means we have to find a new home that’s far away, and because there’s a limit to the amount of food and other consumables that the refugee fleet can carry, the new drives will let us go ten times farther away before we run out of supplies. If we can get far enough, the Federation might not find us for centuries,” said Kammerling.

“Yes, I see that now. Hmm. Naturally, my project people and I will keep the new technology secret if and when the Federation Navy gets here. You can count on us to keep quiet, Captain.”

“Can I?” asked Kammerling quietly.

“Yes, of course! We all are supporters of the Alliance! Why would we volunteer to give this breakthrough to the Feds?”

Kammerling looked up at the ceiling and pretended to count on the fingers of one hand. “Let’s see now. Money. Power. A prestigious position at a university on Terra, like the University of Montevideo, for example. I think I could probably come up with a few more reasons if I really try. You may not be tempted by anything like that, but can you really be certain about your staff and their families? After all, when the war ends, what will experts in jump-drive technology do for a living if it isn’t developing a faster drive?”

Luff was quiet for so long that Kammerling wondered if the man had already made plans such as he had described.

“You’re right, Captain. I can’t be certain about the others. There are only two ways to make sure this secret never gets revealed to the Feds. One is to kill everyone who knows about it when the refugee fleet finally leaves.” Kammerling looked at Michael, who managed to keep her poker face intact.

“And the other way?” he asked.

“The refugee fleet takes all of us with that knowledge with it when it leaves.” Luff seemed to relax when he saw the Captain and his XO both smile.

“That idea had occurred to us. If you can convince the others to do that, it’ll avoid the necessity of forcing them to do so at gunpoint.”

“So killing all of us at the last moment is off the table?” asked Luff in a hopeful tone.

“If it were up to me, it would be off the table, but it won’t be up to me,” said Kammerling. “I don’t know who will be in command of the refugee fleet, but I do know it won’t be me.”

“I see,” said a deflated Luff. “Well, in that case, I suppose I should let the two of you get back to your ship, and I should get my team over to your ship to begin the upgrade. I’ll just call my daughter and have her drive you  back—”

“Actually, I have a better idea,” said Kammerling hastily. “My XO and I will wait until your team is ready to go to my ship, and we’ll go with them.”

“Oh, well, if you want to wait. Let me just contact my team leaders now.”

It took an hour for all the technical people and the team leaders to congregate at the building entrance and for a bus to arrive to take everyone to the ship. Kammerling was relieved that they wouldn’t have to risk life and limb on another crazy drive with Luff’s daughter, and he was certain that Faith felt the same way. The trip to the spaceport took twice as long as the drive in. Kammerling and Michael let the project people get off the bus first. She then led the team into the ship and down to the jump drive section while Kammerling went up to the Bridge to see if everything was still okay. He was surprised when Michael arrived at the Bridge after only about ten minutes.

“They've done their inspection already?” he asked.

Michael nodded. “Yup. It took them all of sixty seconds to come to the conclusion that our drive could be upgraded, and then they chatted for another few minutes on what parts had to be manufactured and who would install what part and when. I think they have to make a new set of parts because our drive isn’t the same size as the one in their prototype ship, which sounds like it was some rich bastard’s space yacht, that got commandeered for the testing.” She laughed, and Kammerling joined her.

“Fine. That’s fine. Some of the crew have been asking about shore leave. I want there to be a few people on board at any one time just to make sure no one tries to hijack the ship, but everyone else can have shore leave. I’ll leave the details up to you. I’ll be staying aboard, but you’re free to take some shore leave yourself, XO.”

“Thanks, Skipper. I may take a few hours to visit the city and try out the local cuisine, but I’ll be returning to my quarters to sleep.”

“Well, okay. If you want to be picked up and driven into the city again by Luff’s daughter, that’s up to you. I guess I could field promote Hanson to XO if something happened to you,” said Kammerling in a playful tone. Michael laughed and gently hit him on the shoulder with her fist.

“Don’t you dare promote Hanson! I’ll walk into the city and back if I have to.”

The upgrade was finished in 72 hours. The ship’s Engineer grudgingly admitted that the R&D people might know what they were doing. When pressed by Kammerling, he reluctantly confirmed that all jump-drive systems checked out.

“I still think we should do a micro-jump in this system to test it out first, Captain.”

Kammerling agreed, and the test of jumping from one side of the system to the other went off without a hitch. The actual jump seemed to take just the same amount of time as any other micro-jump, but the Helm computer confirmed that instead of taking point zero one seconds, the jump had actually taken point zero zero one seconds. Kammerling turned to his Astrogator, Lieutenant Todd Paxson.

“I see no point in landing back on Abigor again. Our job is to scout possible colony worlds, and since our supplies have been topped off, we may as well get started, don’t you think, Lieutenant?”

“I do, Sir. And I have a suggestion for where we might start searching. I’ve been talking with some of the astrophysicists here, and they told me about a cluster of 987 stars that are five weeks away using the new drive. This cluster seems to have more yellow suns than would normally be expected and therefore has a higher chance of having habitable planets. We could go there and look around until we find a nice planet.”

“And how will the refugee fleet know where to go?”

Paxson grinned. “That’s easy, sir. We leave the coordinates of a system on this side of the cluster as a rendezvous point before we jump out of here. That way, the refugee fleet has a place to go with your suggestion that they stay at the rendezvous point until we return there. That way, we won’t have to come all the way back here again just to tell them where the new home is.”

“Yes, that makes sense. Okay, AO, pick a rendezvous system and give me the coordinates so that I can include it with a final message to Abigor before we start the search.”

Luff read the message twice to be sure he hadn’t missed anything.

From: Captain Philip Kammerling To Director Vegar Luff to forward to the captain of the next ship to arrive. Vampire will begin the search for a new home planet in the Musaka Cluster. It’s my recommendation that the refugee fleet heads to a rendezvous point at the coordinates listed below and remain there until Vampire arrives, which will not be later than 98 days from our departure from Abigor.

He hoped the commander of the refugee fleet would be as reasonable as Kammerling. Taking the jump-drive people and their families would be the humane thing to do, assuming that there was room and food enough for them on the transports. If there wasn’t, then he shuddered to think of the alternative.

Sixty days later:

Senior Captain Huang Takano entered the Officers’ Lounge that was doing double duty as a conference room. His XO and the captains of the other ships were already there. The captains of the warships stood up as protocol required, while the freighter captains did not and seemed to be taken aback by the gesture.

“Be seated,” said Takano. “Rising when a senior officer enters the room was something we did when we were part of the SSA Navy. I think we should face the reality that the Navy is for all intents and purposes no more. The four light cruisers sitting on the spaceport today are now part of a refugee fleet and therefore let’s dispense with that protocol from now on.” He sat down and looked around the table before continuing.

“I had hoped that Captain Bentrik’s Banshee would have made it here by now, but he hasn’t, and I don’t think we should wait any longer. The coordinates that Captain Kammerling left for the rendezvous point is twenty-five days away now that all of our ships have been upgraded to the new jump-drive. Vampire will be there in twenty-eight days, if not before. Have all ships had their food and supply requisitions filled?” Takano looked at his XO.

“All except for City of Malverton, Captain. She’s only received eighty-nine percent of her max load. The local officials are working as hard as they can to find the rest, but some of the citizens are complaining that if we take any more, they won’t have enough to get through the coming winter. And then there’s still the question of finding room and the extra food, etc., for the FTL R&D people and their families.”

Takano didn’t respond right away. The food situation was rapidly becoming a critical problem. The maximum food load had been carefully calculated to last the 10,000 people in the refugee fleet for one full year, thereby giving them enough time to travel to their new world and survive long enough to grow food from the seeds they’d brought along. And if they couldn’t find a suitable world or if the climate or soil wouldn’t allow for growing crops, then there’d be enough food surplus to bring everyone back to Abigor as an absolute last resort. Any deficit in the food supply now might jeopardize the whole project later. And adding even more mouths to feed by cramming the R&D people into the freighters would only make the food situation even worse, and that decision would be hard for him to defend. The alternative of killing the R&D people could not be dismissed out of hand. The Project’s civilian leaders were adamant that the upgraded jump-drive technology should not fall into Federation hands. I should ask them if they’re willing to pull the triggers instead of expecting my people to do the dirty work for them. On the other hand, they might just be ruthless enough to be willing to do it themselves. God, what kind of people has this war made us into? If Banshee had arrived with the leftover billions of confiscated Federation currency, he could have offered the locals that money in exchange for more food on the theory that they could then afford to import food to get them over the winter and be able to pay for it. But Bentrik’s light cruiser wasn’t here, and neither was the money.

“Keep the pressure on the officials for that last eleven percent. Also, canvass the refugees and ship crews to see if anyone wants to volunteer to stay on Abigor in order to make room for the R&D people. I presume those people have property and other assets that they’ve accumulated over the fifteen years the war has been raging. We’ve certainly paid them enough. If they’re willing to sign over their property to anyone who’s willing to stay, that will mitigate the impact on food. Do we have any equipment that we don’t really need that we could maybe trade for more food?”

The XO thought for a moment before responding. “Offhand, I don’t know, but I’ll ask the colony planning committee, Sir.”

“Yes, and ask the locals what kind of equipment they could make use of too. Just because we have something we can do without doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll want to trade for it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I assume that some of you have other things to bring up, so let’s get to it. Who’s first?”

It was 48 hours later when the food situation had improved by as much as it was going to. Takano called Major Adelaide Evans, the head of the small security contingent the fleet would be taking along, to his quarters.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?”

“Yes, Major. As you may have heard, the locals have managed to find enough food for us to meet our goal. But the problem is that stockpile of food won’t last as long as we want it to if we take all the R&D people and their families. We’re talking about fifty-five of them. As of now, twenty-one individuals, including a few of the crew, have volunteered to stay behind. That leaves thirty-four extra bodies to find room for. The security contingent has eighty-nine people. If we can find thirty-four of them to stay behind, that would make the math work, and we’d still have fifty-five security people coming with us. I think we could make do with fifty-five if we had to, don’t you, Major?”

“I don’t know, Captain. Eighty-nine out of ten thousand is not quite one in a hundred. Fifty-five out of ten thousand is almost one in two hundred. During the trip, each freighter would only have eleven security people to keep order, and when we arrive at the new planet, the colonists are going to be tempted to go where they want and do what they want. If the Colony leaders are going to try to enforce their authority, they might find what essentially would be a platoon of armed personnel is not enough to do that.”

Takano resisted the urge to smile. His opinion of the so-called civilian leadership of the project, men and women who assumed that authority without the approval of the rest of the refugees, was less than flattering. Maybe making those assholes vulnerable to a popular uprising might not be such a bad thing. The new Colony would probably be better off without them altogether. That gave him an interesting idea.

“Until we reach our new home, you and your people report to and take orders from me, correct, Major?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me, Major, what’s your opinion of the civilian leadership and be candid. I guarantee you that whatever you say will stay between us.”

Evans hesitated before responding. “I’ve already spoken with several of that group, and they’re already trying to impose their will on my people and me. I’ve seen their type before, lots of times, in fact. They think they’re better than the rest of us unwashed masses, and if they had their way, they’d be the Pharaohs, and we’d be the slaves.”

Takano turned to his computer console. “Computer, show me the list of names of the project’s civilian leadership and their families.”

As the names began scrolling down the screen, Takano kept a count. When the list stopped, he leaned back and pointed to the screen.

“Thirty-one people including family members.” Evans was nodding and grinning. Takano had another thought. “Computer, show me the list of cargo belonging to the civilian leadership or their families.”

This time the list was longer. Takano whistled in surprise at what he wasn’t expecting to see. Crates full of weapons that should have been disallowed since the Major’s security contingent had their own stockpile and were supposed to be the only ones who brought weapons. There was also a considerable amount of alcoholic beverages, medical supplies, and precious metals! All were declared as personal items. The number of medical supplies was far in excess of what a few people might expect to need for their own use. That puzzled Takano since the fleet as a whole had its own stockpile of medical supplies for general use. The aha moment came to him. They intend to hoard their personal stockpile while they use the Colony’s supply and when it’s gone, they’ll hold their own supply over our heads as leverage to maintain their own authority, and the weapons are intended to help them keep control over their medical supplies and precious metals. He turned back to Evans.

“Do you think there might be three people in your security contingent who might be willing to stay behind, Major?”

Evans, who had also been reading the list on the screen, nodded. “If we just need three more, then I think we could find three volunteers. I can think of at least two that aren’t thrilled with the idea of starting from scratch on an unknown planet. I like where your thinking is going on this. What’s your plan, Captain?”

“Here’s what we’ll do…”

The following day, Takano and Evans were standing at the bottom of the boarding ramp for the City of Malverton freighter when he heard someone yell his name from the top of the ramp. Sarteeni Kamstra, the billionaire Vice-President of Marduk and self-proclaimed Colony Leader, came storming down the ramp, followed by his family and the families of the other Colony officials.

Takano turned from the other group of R&D people that were approaching the ship to look at Kamstra.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” yelled Kamstra.

“I think I’m making room on the ship for these people, the FTL R&D team and their families, who you’ve insisted can’t be allowed to tell the Federation what they’ve discovered.”

Kamstra looked over Takano’s shoulder at the approaching group in surprise. “But…I thought it was understood that they should be…silenced, not brought along! My family and I and the rest of the Colony leadership and their families are being evicted from the ship! That’s intolerable! You will issue orders to have our personal effects and clothes returned to our quarters!”

“But what about the scientists and their families, Mister Kamstra? We can’t leave them behind, and I’m not willing to order them killed.”

Kamstra waved his question off, his face now red with rage. “Then find another group of refugees to dump on this backwater pile of dirt!” Kamstra turned to Evans. “Major! That’ll be your responsibility! You should never have obeyed Takano’s orders to evict us, to begin with! If the Captain doesn’t rescind the eviction orders, then you had better do it if you want to keep your rank and position when we get to the new planet!”

Evans let a feral grin cross her face as she slowly pulled her handgun out of its holster. Holding the gun by her side, she stepped forward to stand six inches from Kamstra, who was losing his anger fast.

“Did you just threaten me?” she asked in a casual voice that was dripping with menace.

Kamstra’s red face turned white so fast that Takano thought the man would faint.

“Ah…no! I didn’t mean to threaten you, Major. There’s no one else I’d rather have commanding my security force.”

Evans slowly put her handgun back in its holster. “It’s not your security force, Kamstra. It’s his.” She jerked her head in Takano’s direction. “I take his orders because his orders are worth taking. And he doesn’t like you and your elitist friends very much. I don’t either. So, if I were you, I’d get used to the idea that you people are not going to be allowed to inflict your egos on the rest of us. You all are staying here on Abigor. Your personal effects and clothes are in the process of being packed by my people and loaded on the freighter’s cargo shuttles that’ll be coming down shortly. When you unpack, you might find a few things missing. Some of my people have sticky fingers, I’m sorry to say, but don’t worry, you’ll be the best-dressed farm laborers on Abigor.”

“What?” Kamstra’s voice was now on the edge of panic. “What’s this nonsense about us being farm laborers? If we must stay, we’ll live in the city. We can afford that with the gold and silver that we brought…” He stopped talking when he saw Takano and Evans both shake their heads.

“You and your pals apparently didn’t read the notices about trying to bring materials that were banned, or else you didn’t think they applied to any of you,” said Evans.

“There was nothing in those notices about precious metals being banned!”

“You’re right. But personal weapons definitely are banned, and I believe there’s a paragraph about hoarding vital supplies such as medical supplies. There’s also a paragraph that gives the Fleet Commander, Senior Captain Takano, the authority to impose fines and penalties for attempting to bring contraband which he has done, and the fines are the confiscation of all the precious metals you tried to bring along.”

Kamstra’s face was now getting red again. “You people think you’ve outsmarted me, don’t you? Well, once your ships leave, your hold over us will be over. And when the Fed Navy gets here, I’m sure they’ll be very interested to hear about the jump-drive breakthrough! And when the Feds figure out how to duplicate that technology, they just might come looking for your new colony!”

Takano turned to look at Evans. “Major, how many of your security people have volunteered to stay behind and make sure that secret isn’t revealed to the Feds?”

“Eight, Captain. Five more than what we needed. They all understand that keeping that secret is the most important thing they can do to help the new Colony, and I’ve told them that they’re authorized to use lethal force if necessary to keep that secret intact. And I understand that the local authorities will look the other way if they need to do that.” She turned to Kamstra. “That’s why you and your group will accept exile to the farm communities that are far enough away from this city that contacting the Feds will be difficult. If any of you return to the city, my stay behind volunteers might interpret that as an attempt to leak the secret to the Feds and will act accordingly. Take my advice and stay on the farms. You and your families will live longer.”

Kamstra was so angry now that it looked like he might actually charge at Evans, but when she put her hand back on the grip of her gun, he seemed to give up on that idea.

“I underestimated both of you,” he said in a surprisingly calm voice. “Alright, you’ve won, for now, I guess. We’ll go quietly, but I don’t see those eight volunteers you mentioned. Maybe there aren’t any security people volunteers. Maybe you’re just making that up to scare us into cooperating.”

“You’ll see them when you board the cargo shuttles that should be coming down any second now. They’re on board because they want to get good looks at all of you so that they’ll recognize you if you should come back to the city. And I wouldn’t try anything with them because they’re armed, and they know you people might be desperate enough to try something stupid. So, they’ll be on their guard. I think the shuttles are coming now.”

Everyone looked up as they heard the sound of one of the freighter’s cargo hold hatches opening. No sooner was it open than two cargo shuttles flew out and spiraled down to a gentle landing not far from where Kamstra and his group were now huddled.

Takano and Evans watched them shuffle over to the shuttles and board them. When the shuttles took off, Takano turned to Evans.

“I enjoyed that power showdown immensely, but we really should get the fleet moving now. Have your people show the scientists where they and their families should go and help them to stow their possessions. I’ll be on the Bridge. You can contact me there when the shuttles are back and everyone’s aboard.”

“Yes, Sir. And I agree, Captain. That was fun.”

It was half an hour later when Evans arrived at the flagship’s Bridge. “I just received a message from one of the stay-behind volunteers,” she told Takano.

“Anything important?”

Evan shook her head. “Kamstra and his cronies tried to overpower the volunteers during the flight. One of the volunteers was killed, another two seriously injured before the rest were able to regain control. The remaining five were so pissed at the death and injuries that they ordered the shuttle pilots to open the cargo doors and then physically ejected all the adult men from Kamstra’s group, including Kamstra himself. The women and anyone younger than sixteen weren’t harmed. The shuttles will be on their way back soon.”

Takano sighed and shook his head. “ We tried to do it the easy way, but Kamstra’s ego wouldn’t let him accept his fate. I wonder what will happen to their families now that their men aren’t around anymore to look after them.”

“They’ll survive, but it’ll be a rough transition to a new life. I don’t feel sorry for them at all. However rough it might get for them in the short term, we all will have it a lot rougher when we get to the new planet, with everything having to be built from scratch. I hope Captain Kammerling has found a good planet.”

98 days after Vampire left Abigor:

Takano waited patiently as his TO scanned for Vampire’s transponder ID after the flagship’s emergence in the rendezvous star system at the edge of the Musaka Cluster.

“Tactical has detected Vampire’s ID, Captain. The signal’s time stamp gives us an approximate distance.”

Takano looked at that main display which was showing a tactical representation of this star system. A green dot with the name Vampire next to it had appeared, and the sidebar data showed it was roughly three point four light minutes away. As Takano watched, another green dot appeared much closer, identified as the City of Malverton. More green dots began to appear as the rest of the refugee fleet’s transponder ID signal reached the flagship from their widely scattered locations.

“Com, send a message to Vampire that the fleet has arrived and will be micro-jumping to its position shortly.” With the order acknowledged, Takano turned his attention back to the display. The other ships had standing orders to rejoin the flagship upon arrival, and that would take a few minutes. In the meantime, he took a closer look at the planets in this system. One of them was within this sun’s liquid water zone, but the sidebar data was showing it as having almost no atmosphere due to its small size. Clearly, this system did not contain a colonizable planet.

When the fleet formation was re-established, it micro-jumped to within a light-second of Vampire’s position, and an electronic conference with all captains was quickly set up. Takano didn’t waste any time getting down to the important question.

“Well, Captain Kammerling, did you find a colonizable planet for us?”

Kammerling’s expression was disconcertingly somber. “Ah, yes, but there’s a problem with it. The planet itself is ideal from a physical point of view. Gravity is ninety-five percent of Earth’s. The atmosphere is mostly nitrogen and oxygen with no harmful gases. The surface is almost eighty percent covered with water, and the landmasses show green vegetation. The problem is that the single major landmass that can be called a continent is extensively inhabited by a primitive humanoid race that’s pre-industrial but has discovered gunpowder. We saw evidence of settlements on all the other smaller landmasses except for one large island that’s farther away than the rest. This alien race is capable of building ocean-going ships, which suggests to me that it’s only a matter of time before they find and settle on that last island as well.” No one else spoke for what was probably about ten seconds but seems longer as each captain tried to figure out the implications of the news.

“Did you attempt contact with these people, Captain?” asked Takano.

“No, Sir. I didn’t feel that I should make the decision. Vampire also didn’t spend a lot of time observing that planet because we wanted to see if we could find a better one in the time we had left. But we did notice that the natives were quite capable of fighting among themselves in large numbers with primitive cannon.”

“Did you find any other planets that might be colonizable if less appealing?” asked Takano.

“There is one other planet in another system. It’s at the outer edge of the liquid water zone. It only has about twenty percent of the surface covered with water, and most of that is ice. Much of the landmass is dry with minimal vegetation. We couldn’t find any area on it that looks like it would make good farmland from the point of view of existing plant coverage. The atmosphere has a lot of CO2 and relatively little oxygen. Living there would feel like living on top of a mountain on Earth.”

“Well, it seems to me then that we really don’t have a lot of choices,” said Takano. “The question isn’t whether or not to land our people on the inhabited planet but rather where to land and how to deal with the locals. And those questions don’t have to be answered here and now. I think the fleet should proceed to this planet’s system and spend a few days in orbit taking a good look at possible landing sites with regards to the availability of natural resources, freshwater, etc. As Fleet Commander, I’m making this call, and it will not be open for debate or a vote. Captain Kammerling’s AO will disseminate the jump coordinates for this system, after which the fleet will jump there. How long will it take to get there, Captain?”

“One hundred eleven hours,” said Kammerling.

“Fine. Then we’ll reconvene this conference once we’re in orbit. This meeting is adjourned.”

Seven days later:

Takano read the report by the team of geologists that the fleet carried. The main landmass had every kind of mineral that the new Colony would need or want, but all of the important mineral sites on the surface were already being exploited by the locals, and all the ideal farmland was also already being used. Of the other smaller landmasses, there was one that appeared to have the basic metals of iron, copper, and nickel with arable land and fresh water, but it also had local settlements that were on the coast but not inland. The large island that Kammerling had talked about might have the necessary mineral resources, but they weren’t near the surface where they could be identified from orbit. He had managed to get a consensus among the other captains on a plan of action. The freighters would land on the smaller landmass that had the minerals as well as the coastal settlements. The landing would be inland as far from the locals as possible while also having what appeared to be arable land and freshwater nearby. While the colonists began work to build a settlement that would also have to have defensive works in case the locals turned out to be xenophobic, the four light cruisers would fan out to resume exploration for another colonizable planet that did not have intelligent locals, and if one was found, the Colony would be transplanted to the new location. Major Evans and her security contingent would stay with the colonists and would attempt to make peaceful contact with the locals. He wished he could see that happen, but the order to resume exploration had already been given when he heard about the contact attempt. He had a hunch that it would not go well.

Evans walked around the assault shuttle sitting in the cargo hold of the City of Malverton freighter. She’d been chided over her insistence that the fleet carried at least one assault shuttle. What would the colonists need an assault shuttle for on a new, untouched planet? Her answer was the same as for carrying a handgun on a new world. Better to have it and not need than need it and not have it. Under the present circumstances, she was glad they had it, and the good-natured ribbing about her being paranoid had stopped. The locals had cannons that fired projectiles with enough kinetic energy to damage a regular shuttle which wasn’t designed to withstand projectile fire. The assault shuttle had enough armor that it could shrug off a cannonball hit unless it had been fired at very close range. She didn’t plan on getting that close. She stood in the open shuttle hatch and watched Anne Hasselberg, the closest thing the fleet had to a linguistic expert approach with a shoulder bag full of something.

“What’s in the bag?” asked Evans as she backed out of the hatch to let Hasselberg in.

“Potential trade items to establish some goodwill if I can get basic communication going.”

That sounded like a good idea to Evans. She closed the hatch and pointed to a seat where Hasselberg could sit while Evans rode up front with the pilot.

“Take a seat there. I’ll call from the cockpit when we’re in a position to open the hatch and let them see you.”

“Okay. Fine.”

Evans went to the cockpit and settled down in the co-pilot/gunner’s seat. “Let the Captain know that he can get the ship moving, Ian.”

“Roger that, Major. City of Malverton, this is Black Bird One. We’re ready to proceed with the mission.”

Evans looked at him with amusement. “Where did you get that call sign from?

“Blackbirds are big, intelligent birds that don’t take any shit from other bird species. Well, this shuttle is big as shuttles go. It has a combat AI that’s no slouch, and we’ve got enough firepower so that we don’t have to take any shit from the locals. Makes sense to me, Major.”

Evans couldn’t help laughing. Ian Rozak was a cheeky bastard, just like all shuttle pilots who knew how good they were. She inserted the earplug that would let her listen in on shuttle to ship communications.

“We’re airborne,” said Rozak. Evans nodded. The freighter, as big as it was, could easily cover the six hundred and ten miles from the colony site to the nearest coastal settlement at supersonic speeds. The plan of approach had all been worked out in advance. The ship would drop down out of the clouds from above in order not to give the locals any hint that something strange was going on inland. It would hover over the water near the shore until it got the attention of all the locals, and then the assault shuttle would exit the cargo hold and slowly fly down until it was 20 or so feet above the surface and about a dozen yards from the shore. It would then hover, and Hasselberg would stand in the open hatch to try to communicate with the locals.

“Why is the ship carrying us there when we could get there just as fast if not faster on our own?” asked Rozak.

“Because the ship is so much bigger, it’s expected to make a much bigger impression on the natives.”

“Aha. Let’s hope it doesn’t terrify them so badly that they start shooting before we can start talking.”

The freighter captain must have pushed his ship for all she was worth to get us there this quickly, thought Evans when she heard the Bridge tell Rozak that they were over the settlement.

“Cargo hatch is opening,” said a voice from the Bridge that Evans didn’t recognize.

“As soon as the hatch is open, get us moving,” said Evans.

Rozak nodded. He was already boosting power to the lift engines while he watched the large cargo hold hatch slide back. The assault shuttle lifted gently from the deck and rotated around so that the front was pointed at the open hatch. Rozak manipulated the control so smoothly that the shuttle was moving forward before it had finished rotating.

“Here we go,” said Rozak in a confident voice. The bright sunlight was a sharp contrast with the subdued artificial lighting inside the cargo hold. Evans nodded with approval as Rozak reduced altitude while making a wide turn initially away from the shore before bringing it back around to approach the shoreline at a nice slow pace. Evans took note of the two large sailing ships that were anchored near the shore. A crowd was already gathering on the beach, with many of them pointing to both the freighter and the shuttle.

“Get ready, Anne. We’re about to open the side hatch,” said Evans.

“I’m ready, Major.”

“Okay, Ian, kill the forward motion and hover. I’m opening the hatch,” said Evans.

“Killing forward motion and hovering,” muttered Rozak unnecessarily in Evans’ opinion.

“I’m stepping up to the h—” Evans heard Anne’s voice cut off for half a second and then a moan. She turned around to see Hasselberg fall backward and heard something hit the inside of the shuttle hard.

“They shot her!” yelled Evans as she got out of her seat to check on Anne’s condition. Something hit the windshield hard enough to make Rozak jump in surprise.

“Fuck! They’re trying to hit you and me too! Permission to fire back?”

Evans dearly wanted to say yes, especially when she could tell from a few feet away that Hasselberg was dead from her shattered and bloody face. But something made her pause for a couple of seconds. Anne’s death was tragic. Killing dozens, hell hundreds of locals given the shuttle’s firepower would be an atrocity and not a good way to start what might become a lasting relationship.

“Don’t target the people, but the ships are fair game! Sink the fuckers!”

“With pleasure,” said Rozak as he rotated the shuttle so that the still-open hatch was no longer in the line of fire. Evans got back to her seat just as Rozak opened up with the shuttle’s autocannon that fired small explosive shells at the rate of five every second. The ship that was now directly in front of the shuttle exploded in a hail of splinters with secondary explosions that Evans chalked up to gunpowder carried by the ship. In seconds, it was a shattered wreck sinking a few more feet until it hit the shallow bottom.

“I’m bringing us around to fire on the other one!” yelled Rozak.

Evans resisted the urge to tell him to hold his fire. Sinking both ships would send a message loud and clear. If you fire on us, there’ll be consequences. She didn’t see anyone on the other ship, which removed the nagging thought that there might be people on the ships below deck. If there had been anyone below deck, they couldn’t possibly have not heard the sound the autocannon made that sounded like ripping cloth and of the explosions on the first ship, and come up to see what was going on. She surmised that the crews of both ships were ashore fraternizing with the settlers. The second ship was quickly turned into a sinking wreck too.

“Now what?” asked Rozak.

“Swing around. I want to see their reactions,” said Evans. That was when she heard the voice of the freighter’s captain.

“What the hell is happening down there?”

“The linguist was shot before she could say a word,” said Rozak. “We just sent a different kind of message.”

Evans expected a response from the Captain, but nothing came. She looked at the shore and saw, to her surprise, that the crowd had not scattered in fear but instead was shaking their fists at the shuttle. Both she and Rozak jumped when the windshield was hit again.

“Goddammit! They’re still shooting at us!” yelled Rozak.

“Back us off and get some altitude,” ordered Evans. She looked at the settlement for another target that would not involve killing any of the locals. These aliens might be idiots, but they shouldn’t have to die because of that. At the far side of the settlement were two structures that looked like silos. There were no windows. Those don’t look like anything someone would live inside of. Storage silos for crops to get them over the winter?

“Ian, see those two towers in the distance?”

“Yeah,” said Rozak with menace in his voice. “I see them.”

“Can you hit them from here?”

“You betcha.”

“Then do it.”

Evans took note of the fact that Rozak took his time. He lined the shuttle up carefully, and only when the target was dead center in the crosshairs of his targeting display did he press the trigger. After the first silo exploded into hundreds of pieces, he followed the same procedure with the other one.

Evans realized that she had been holding her breath and let herself exhale. “Okay, back to the ship.”

By the time the ship returned to the Colony landing site, Hasselberg’s body had been removed from the shuttle, placed in a body bag, and put inside the ship’s freezer compartment to prevent decomposition until a decision could be made over whether to cremate or bury the remains. The news of her death cast a pall over the other colonists. Work on setting up temporary housing was halted so that everyone could gather around the captains and Major Evans to hear what had happened. With Fleet Commander Takano gone, Evans had been put in overall command of the freighters that were now on the ground. Everyone accepted the fact that as long as people had to rely on the freighters for shelter, food, and water, they had to respect her authority. After finishing the description of events at the alien settlement, Evans paused to make sure she had everyone’s attention.

“I don’t see how we can establish a peaceful relationship with the locals now. Their reaction in the face of technology that they couldn’t begin to understand strongly suggests that their inherent xenophobia will not allow them to consider peaceful contact. If we had been faced with a clearly superior alien race that attempted to make contact, I’m convinced that we would not have reacted that way. So, where does this leave us? I think we have to assume that our stay on this planet is a temporary one. Sooner or later, one of the light cruisers will find a planet that won’t be so hostile, even if it’s not quite as nice as this one. I’m bringing this up now because of Anne Hasselberg’s body. If we’re going to leave this planet in a few weeks or months or maybe even a year or two, I don’t think Anne’s body should be buried here and left behind. I wouldn’t want my body to be left behind on an alien world. That leaves two alternatives, either cremation or we keep her body frozen until she can be buried on a planet that we expect to stay on. I suggest that all of you consider which alternative you think we should take and we’ll have a vote tomorrow. Given the somberness of this news, resuming work for the rest of today should be voluntary. Thank you for your attention.” The vote was overwhelmingly in favor of keeping the frozen body until it could be buried on a new world.

By prior arrangement, all four light cruisers returned after 30 days to compare their findings and to replenish their own supplies. Takano was surprised by the progress that had been made during that time. Fields had been cleared and planted. The local version of trees was being cut down and used for building materials. It looked as though the Colony was making a good start on a permanent settlement, although most of the colonists were still living aboard the freighters. When Takano heard what had happened to Anne Hasselberg, he understood why there wasn’t more housing being built. The conference with the other cruiser captains was electronically broadcast to all the colonists who had boarded the freighters for that purpose.

The result was disappointing. The most habitable planet found was far from ideal. It was cold, dry, and had a higher gravity than Earth. But Takano made a point of saying that the cruisers would go back out for another 30 days of searching and would repeat that process as many times as it took to find a planet that was a legitimate alternative. The cruisers resumed searching after spending just enough time to restock their food supplies for another 30 days.

During that second 30 day period, Evans kept busy by using the assault shuttle to monitor the part of the island between that alien coastal settlement and the inland human settlement. Realizing that it was difficult to detect any aliens during the day beneath the dense forests she was flying over, she decided to switch to flying just after sunset on the theory that if the aliens were moving inland, they’d build campfires each evening, and those campfires could be easily detected using infrared scans. That change in plan produced results. It took a few days to be sure that the campfires she was detecting were moving further inland and therefore closer to the colonists each day. How the aliens knew that humans could be found further in, she didn’t know. Once that threat was confirmed, she also made a nighttime pass over the coastal settlement and saw that two more ships had arrived. If those ships return to the mainland with news of a mysterious flying race on this island, these fuckers are just xenophobic enough to come back with a fleet of ships. I can’t allow those two ships to return back to the mainland. I’ll come back during daylight and blow them apart.

When the shuttle brought her back 12 hours later, the two sailing ships were gone. It didn’t take long to find them.

“Shall I blow the fuckers up again?” asked Rozak with obvious enthusiasm.

Evans hesitated. Before taking off from the Colony, she’d discovered that the first encounter had used almost half of the assault shuttle’s supply of explosive cannon shells. During the flight, she’d been trying to figure out a way to sink the ships with minimal use of the remaining supply. A stationary target might possibly have been sunk with one carefully aimed shot just below the waterline. But a ship at sea was a moving target that might not be so easy to sink without using more shells than she really wanted to.

“Not the way you’d like to. We need to conserve the ammo we have left as much as possible. You never know when we might need it in the future. Those ships are made from this planet’s version of wood, and this shuttle has a laser that we can keep shooting as long as the power plant keeps operating. If we keep firing the laser, those ships should eventually start burning, right?”

Rozak looked dubious. “I suppose so, but we might be here all day before that happens. The laser has a very narrow beam. I’m sure it can burn a hole through the side or the deck but whether the wood around the hole will start burning is another question.”

“Only one way to find out,” said Evans. “Bring us directly over one of the ships so that they can’t fire back at us.”

Rozak kept the shuttle high enough that musket fire would not reach it and brought the shuttle to a forward speed that matched that of the ship they were over.

“You hold the shuttle’s position while I take the shot,” said Evans.

“Roger that.”

Evans used her helmet’s virtual goggles to aim the laser turret in the shuttle’s nose. She zoomed in on the aiming image until the crosshairs of the laser were centered on the middle of the ship’s deck. When she pressed the trigger, she saw a tiny black dot appear on the deck in the center of the crosshairs but no flames.

“You were right. I made a hole in the deck but didn’t start a fire. Wait a minute. There’s a metal grate over a rectangular opening in the deck. I guess they’d use that to lower supplies or lift something out when the ship is docked. That lower deck might have gunpowder for the cannon. I’ll try firing down into the lower deck. If we can get a hit on a container of gunpowder…” She let the sentence dangle as she concentrated on aligning the crosshairs with the open grate.

“Firing now.” There was no explosion. “Still nothing! Damn.”

“Ah, Major. I know you don’t want to use the HE shells if you can avoid it, but if we fire one shell at a time down into the lower level, it might start some kind of chain reaction if there are flammable materials around.”

Evans decided it was worth at least one shot. “I’m switching to autocannon. Hold her steady, Ian. Here we go. Firing.” As she watched through her virtual goggles image, she saw a flash of light as the shell hit the next deck down and exploded. Because the lower level was dark, she couldn’t tell what damage the shell had done. She could see the crew on the upper deck running around. They probably don’t know what happened. Another thought occurred to her. She checked the remaining ammo count. She had 54 high explosive shells left.

“I don’t think the first shot accomplished anything, but I’m going to try a five-shot burst and hope that at least one of them will penetrate down into the bowels of the ship where the supplies and hopefully gunpowder are stored. Standby. Firing!”

The burst took less than one second. One of the shells hit the metal grate and exploded, sending shrapnel flying. That made it difficult to see what the other four shells did, but within a few seconds, Evans could see a much bigger explosion that lifted part of the upper deck, causing pieces to fly in all directions. As she zoomed out, a third explosion blew the entire ship apart.

“Nice shooting, Major!” said Rozak with a big grin.

“Thanks. Let’s try that again with the other ship. I need us directly over.”

“Already working on it,” said Rozak.

Evans waited until they were directly over with the crosshairs image zoomed in to the other ship’s loading grate and said, “Firing!”

This time there were only the shell explosions, but it quickly became obvious that they had started a fire that was rapidly building, as evidenced by the volume of smoke coming out of the grated opening. On an impulse, Evans fired another five-shot burst, and a second later, the entire ship blew up. I bet that second burst blew holes in the decks allowing the fire to spread down to the lower levels.

“Take us lower. I want to get a good look,” said Evans.

“You got it, Major.”

Evans felt her stomach threaten to heave as Rozak caused the shuttle to drop like a free-fall elevator to stop a hundred feet above the water with what was left of both ships visible through the windshield. The first ship hit was now visible only via the top of the rapidly-sinking single mast that hadn’t been knocked down by the explosions. The second ship was just about to have the ocean flood its shattered deck. Evans saw a few individuals in the water holding onto pieces of wood. Given how far away the ships had gotten from the island, she doubted if any of the crew would make it back there.

“Okay, I’ve seen enough. Head back to the Colony, Ian.”

Rozak nodded but said nothing.

By the time the light cruisers finished their second 30-day search, the locals had managed to cover half the distance between the coast and the human colony. The search results were once again disappointing. Takano knew that the cruiser crews were tired of being cooped up in their ships for over three months now and agreed to let them stand down for 72 hours. During that time, he accompanied Evans on her shuttle patrol and got a first-hand appreciation for how fixated the locals seemed to be to find and attack the humans. Evans’ estimate that they would reach the colony in another 45 days or so meant that if the cruisers didn’t find a suitable planet on this third search, the colonists would have to fight off the oncoming threat. There was also a further complication.

“It’s the crops in the fields. The farming people say we need another 40 days or so before the crops can be harvested. If we don’t harvest them, then we’re going to have to institute rationing on any new planet we move to, to last us until a new crop can be planted and harvested there. But if we can harvest this crop, that will give the colony a nice cushion in terms of food supplies when we move to another planet, assuming that there is another planet. More and more people are starting to ask if maybe we should just stay here and sweep the island clean of the locals.”

“And what do you think of that option?” asked Takano.

Evans shook her head. “I see a lot of longer-term problems with that. Yeah, we can take this island and hold it in the short run, maybe even for a few years. But eventually, the locals on the mainland will figure out that we’re here and if they’re like this bunch, and I think we have to assume that they are, they’ll come by the thousands, and we’d have a hard time defending against that. Unless, of course, we use the nukes that your cruisers are carrying and wipe out their cities. I’d hate to have to resort to that, and we still wouldn’t have killed all of them. Humans on this planet might end up being at war with the locals for centuries to come.”

“I think you’re too pessimistic, Major. Let the locals come in fleets of sailing ships. Instead of using nukes on the cities, we’ll use a nuke to wipe out their entire fleet. We might even have to do it several times before their leaders realize that the cost of continuing to attack us is just too high. Once they understand that, they’ll leave us alone, at least for a few years. In the meantime, we can keep watch on their progress from orbit. When they begin their industrial revolution, we’ll have to assess our options and capabilities, and by that point, we might even have found another planet to transfer to. But your point about the harvest is a valid one. Have you considered using some of our people to build defensive works by cutting down the trees where the locals will be coming through? By pushing back the treeline, we’d expand our field of fire as well.”

“I’ve already thought of that, and I’ve started organizing work parties to do that. I really hope your cruisers find another colonizable planet on this next search. Establishing a Colony is going to be hard enough as it is without having to fight a war for survival at the same time.”

Thirteen days later:

Takano held his breath as the ship dropped below the cloud cover. The images taken from orbit hadn’t been clear about what they were seeing. Now that the ship was closer, there was no doubt. This planet had a city, or rather what was left of a city. He could already see signs of decay and collapse. But two things were already obvious. One was that this city had been built with a level of technology that was at least the equal of planets like Marduk. And the other was that if anyone was still living in this city, there weren’t very many of them. It looked deserted. The obvious question was, what happened to this civilization? War? Disease? This was the only location on this planet with signs of prior inhabitation. It was clearly a colony of a space-faring race. Had the colonists just left, and if so, why? Were they still a space-faring race existing somewhere else in the Musaka Cluster? So many questions and the answers might be down there.

“There’s a flat area in the center of the city. We’ll land there,” said Takano.

“I see it,” said the HO.

“How’s the atmosphere?” asked Takano.

“Nitrogen-oxygen, Skipper. The trace elements are nothing we need to worry about,” said the AO.

Takano nodded. This planet was looking better and better all the time. Gravity was 98% of Earth’s. And being located smack in the middle of this system’s liquid water zone meant that almost 60% of the planet’s surface was covered in water. The landmasses included plenty of areas with moderate temperatures and green vegetation. This city was located in a wide valley that had lakes, rivers, and forests. They picked a good spot, whoever they were.

The ship was slowing down its descent, and Takano could see from the external camera that the ship was already below the tops of some of the towers that were still standing. He didn’t wait for the landing before heading down to the main airlock hatch. The rest of the survey team was already waiting with the inner airlock hatch open, but the outer hatch still closed. The Chief in charge of the security team handed Takano his gunbelt, electronic binoculars, and the helmet with the built-in com unit. When Takano was ready, he nodded to the Chief.

“Okay, let’s take a look, Chief.”

It was 47 hours later when the ship pierced the cloud cover again on its way back to space. Takano had seen enough, and even though his ship wasn’t due back for another 15 days, he had ordered the return now. This planet was perfect as far as he could tell, and he didn’t see much point in looking further. The final decision to transplant the Colony here would wait until the other cruisers had returned just in case one of them had found something even better, but Takano doubted that possibility. The ruins of the city were worth exploiting all by themselves. The survey team had found machines that were more advanced than comparable Federation technology. And enough of the surrounding land had already been cleared of trees and used for agriculture by the previous inhabitants that it would be relatively easy to start planting human crops. The team had taken hundreds of soil and plant samples for analysis to ensure that human biology could safely consume what this planet’s ecosystem was providing, but Takano was certain that the results would be good. One of the survey team had taken a bite of some kind of fruit growing on a tree and had declared it quite delicious. But more importantly, it hadn’t poisoned him or made him sick. That was all the proof Takano needed.

Upon dropping back into normal space, Takano transmitted a detailed report to Evans before the ship made a micro-jump to the edge of the no-jump zone. It wasn’t until the ship was within one light second of the planet that Takano got the bad news. The locals had moved inland much faster than projected and were only about two days away from the Colony. Repeated aerial attacks by the assault shuttle had not stopped the oncoming horde. They had learned to hide under tree foliage during the day and were no longer building campfires at night, thereby making it impossible to target them accurately.

Evans was waiting for Takano when he sprinted down the boarding ramp.

“How fast can the Colony pull up stakes and board the freighters for the trip to the new planet?” asked Takano as he stepped off the ramp.

“Twenty-four hours. Thirty-six at the absolute latest, so that’s not the problem. A lot of equipment has already been reloaded. Everyone’s sleeping in the freighters again in case the locals get here at night. The Colony’s about eighty percent loaded right now. The problem is the crops in the fields aren’t mature enough yet to harvest, and we’re going to need that food when we get to the new world.”

“Right. But we can finish loading the freighters now. Let’s get that going. While that’s going on, you and I will figure out how to solve that other problem.”

While Evans got to work, Takano looked in the direction that the locals would be coming from. The treeline had been pushed back by almost a mile with the fallen trees piled up lengthwise as an ad hoc barrier which the aliens would be able to climb over. He turned to look in the opposite direction at the river that flowed past the settlement. If humans tried to stop the invaders and failed, they’d be pushed back into the river. As he swung back around to look in the first direction again, he noticed a black circular area out past the crop fields. When one of the colonists passed by, Takano asked him what the black area was.

“Grassfire a few days ago. It’s been pretty dry here for a couple of weeks. Something started the fire, but we managed to put it out before it got out of control,” said the man before continuing on his way. By the time Evans came back to him, Takano had a plan.

“If I remember correctly, a group of settlers built a still to convert food waste into alcohol.”

Evans looked at him with a strange expression. “Your main concern right now is getting buzzed?”

Takano laughed. “No. My main concern right now is finding out how much flammable liquid we have that we can use to start a forest fire that just might stop the locals dead in their tracks.”

“It might stop them, alright, but what about the risk of it spreading in our direction too?”

“Well, right now, the wind is blowing away from us, and if we use the heavy equipment to scrape off the surface vegetation on our side of those piles of cut trees, then the fire won’t find much to burn coming this way.”

Evans looked at the tree line as she imagined Takano’s suggestions. “Yes, that might work. It’s worth a try. I’ll find out how much alcohol we have. It’s not going to be a lot, though.”

“That’s why we have to get the fire started as fast as we can so that it has time to build and spread.”

“Got it. Excuse me while I check, Captain.”

It quickly became apparent that the supply of alcohol was not large. While the engineering people worked on building portable devices that could spray the liquid, the earthmoving equipment was put into operation to build a firebreak zone composed of only bare soil. It was almost dark by the time the firebreak was made, and the spray equipment was ready. Evans organized ten teams of two people each. One person would spray the thick foliage on the other side of the tree piles while walking along while his or her teammate would make sure the alcohol was set on fire with a torch. By the time all the alcohol had been sprayed, the ten individual fires had merged into one long line of flames that were spreading from the low bushes up into the trees where the wind was fanning the flames. At Takano’s suggestion, Evans arranged for people to keep an eye on the flames during the night to make sure it didn’t suddenly leap across the firebreak and threaten the crops. The last thing Takano did before returning to his quarters to sleep was briefing the freighter captains and the key people that would supervise the resettlement to the planet that Takano was now certain would be called Excalibur.

By the next morning, the fire had spread in all directions around the settlement up to the river, and it was moving fast. Takano’s biggest fear now was rain, but a quick flight by a shuttle up to orbital altitude showed no signs of rainclouds for the next several days. It was Evans who brought up the subject of the coastal settlement inhabitants.

“This fire is unlikely to reach all the way to the coast. That means that when the fires finally die out, the remaining locals might send another attack force inland before we can harvest the crops.”

“Maybe, but if they do, we’ll be able to track their progress better since all the tree cover will have been burnt off for tens of miles around us. And walking through a burnt-out forest means they won’t be able to hunt or forage for food. And that means they’ll have to carry all their food and water with them, which will slow them down a lot. That’s assuming that there are enough adults left who are willing to risk their lives to fight us. I don’t see how their attacking group can avoid being burned to death by this fire. Having made the decision to send a force inland, I’d expect them to have sent every person capable of using a weapon. With that group decimated, who’s left who can fight?”

“I can see the logic of your argument, but so far, these people aren’t behaving like rational beings. We’ve tried to avoid killing them except in self-defense, but they seem willing to go out of their way to attack us. There’s also the possibility of more settlers arriving by ship that would include individuals capable of using weapons.”

“I’m not willing to attack their coastal settlement based on what they might do. Let’s wait and see what they actually do. Then I’ll consider our options.”

When three more days had passed without any sign of the inland group of locals and the fires still spreading in the direction of the coast, Takano and Evans decided that the immediate threat had been dealt with. By this time, the colonists had organized themselves into two groups. One group would leave for Excalibur now to begin work on establishing the new settlement, while the second stayed behind to harvest the crops when they were ready and then bring that along with the remaining equipment to Excalibur.

By the time that the other light cruisers had returned, the threat from the remaining locals on the coast seemed to be gone. Daily reconnaissance flights showed no sign of another armed group moving inland. The search results from the other ships were mixed with one planet that could have been colonized, but it wasn’t nearly as inviting as Excalibur or even the current planet. Takano sent the other cruisers on ahead to Excalibur while he kept his ship here until the very last moment when the remaining freighters were loaded, including the harvested crops, and lifted off. As his ship left the atmosphere, Takano said a mental farewell to the planet and its people and then turned his thoughts to organizing another, more sustained exploration program for his cruisers to learn if the people who build the now-ruined city were still a space-faring race. It would give him and his crews something to do instead of becoming farmers. The Musaka Cluster had 987 star systems. Exploring them all would keep him busy for a few years.

Chapter One

Third Fleet-Army Force Command Complex, Poictesme, Gartner Tri-system, Day 233 of Year 854 A.E.

Colonel Leonhard Augustin carefully folded the printout that the supercomputer had just generated. He wanted to show it to the others, but he knew they wouldn’t accept it. The System States Alliance had collapsed, and the war was finally over. Telling them now that the only way to avoid a multi-century decline of the Federation into anarchy, which the supercomputer had predicted, was for a resurgent SSA to defeat the Federation and then evolve into an autocratic one-man form of government would be a waste of time. Even if they believed it, their oaths to the Federation would prevent them from acting on it. He had taken an oath to protect the Federation, too, but in his mind, his oath had been to protect the people living on the 500+ planets within the Federation, not necessarily to the structure itself. As a student of history, he understood that no form of government lasts forever. Republics fall, and eventually, empires fall. Even the one-man rule that the folded printout described would not last forever. But it would last long enough to avoid the centuries of decline, wars, chaos, and misery that the Federation was sliding inexorably towards. Hundreds of millions would live better, happier, and longer lives if something better rose out of the ashes of the rickety and increasingly corrupt Federation. He folded the printout and hid it in one of his uniform’s pockets. He then left the Operations Center and took the lift down to General Travis’s office, where the other senior officers were already gathered.

“It’s about time you showed up, Colonel. We’ve been waiting. That drink on the table is yours,” said General Foxx Travis. Augustin picked up the glass. He knew what was about to happen. Travis lifted his glass. “Here’s to the oath we took to protect the Federation and to the oath we’re taking now to protect the secret of Merlin and its prediction.” The others repeated the oath, and everyone drained their glasses in one swallow. Travis looked at his glass for a couple of seconds and then threw it against the opposite wall, where it shattered. The others did the same. They then followed the General out of his office and back to their respective quarters to collect their belongings before leaving the Duplicate Force Command complex for the last time.

As the Army air transport lifted off, Augustin looked out the side window at the Army engineers, who had begun vitrifying rock to block the entrance to the complex. When they were finished, wind and rain would eventually finish the job of erasing any sign that this area held an underground multi-level complex capable of housing over 2,000 people. The Federation Third Fleet-Army Force was pulling out of Poictesme and leaving everything that a human couldn’t carry behind. Just bringing the personnel back to Earth required hundreds of interstellar transport trips. Removing all the equipment carefully built up over 12 years would have taken thousands of trips at a cost that the Federation could no longer afford. We could have afforded it 12 years ago, Augustin thought, but not anymore. The cost of the war has sealed the Federation’s fate. At least we’re taking all fission and fusion warheads with us. He shuddered at the thought of the chaos that could happen if those warheads were left behind and were discovered by locals. But even without those weapons, the 89 military sites on Poictesme had to be hidden because they contained plenty of other equipment that could cause trouble if found by the wrong people. The only exception was Tenth Army Headquarters. It was the first command complex built for the war, and it had been built above ground. It could have been hidden at great cost, but it was too well known to the civilian population by now. Hiding it would have been pointless. That was why the General had ordered all data relating to all other military sites on Poictesme and on other planets in the Gartner Tri-system be purged from Tenth Army’s computers. He closed his eyes and told himself to accept the fact that there was nothing he could do to prevent the Collapse.

Planet Marduk, one year later:

Augustin entered the interview room and looked at the individual seated at the table. To his surprise, the prisoner did not look back at him. He kept his gaze focused on the wall in front of him with his hands resting on the table. Augustin checked the data tablet he was holding. Captain Aren Bentrik, an SSA Navy officer who had been in command of a light cruiser when it arrived at Marduk to surrender to the Federation Navy squadrons in orbit there. As post-war interviews went, this one should be more interesting than most, he thought. Being transferred to Army Intelligence was not what Augustin had hoped for, but with the demobilization of most of the Army, he was relieved to have any position at all. He sat down opposite Bentrik and waited until he got Bentrik’s attention.

“Captain Bentrik, I’m Colonel Leonhard Augustin, and I’m here to conduct the final interview before you’re released.” He waited to gauge Bentrik’s reaction, and when there was none, he gave a mental nod and resumed speaking.

“As you know, we examined your ship’s data and transit logs. The last stop before returning to Marduk was Abigor. You didn’t stay there long, less than forty-eight hours in fact. Did you get there too late to join the exodus?”

Bentrik’s expression didn’t change one iota. “What exodus are you referring to?”

“The, ah, one where most of the remaining SSA navy left for unexplored territory accompanied by a dozen freighters carrying diehard SSA supporters and their families. That exodus, Captain. But if there’s another one, we’d like to hear about that too.”

Bentrik allowed a small smile to appear on his face. “Oh, that one. Yes, my ship did get there too late to join that final act of defiance. Since no one on Abigor knew where the fleet was going, I couldn’t follow them. I briefly considered starting a guerilla campaign, but my crew was tired and demoralized and just wanted to go back to their homes and families. Therefore, surrender seemed to be the thing to do.”

“Yes, and we’re very glad that you decided not to start a guerilla campaign. If you had done that and been caught, you and your crew would have been charged with piracy. Tell me, Captain, what plans do you have for returning to civilian life after we release you?”

Bentrik shrugged. “Being an officer on a ship is all I know how to do. I had just started a career working on freighters when the war started. When the SSA announced that it was creating a Navy, I signed up right away. I wanted to command a warship, and promotions come fast in a Navy that’s expanding quickly.”

Augustin nodded. “It certainly does. You were given your first command, a light cruiser in 845, a heavy cruiser in 848, and a battlecruiser in 850. Then in 852, they took away your battlecruiser and gave you back another light cruiser. That seems very odd to me. Can you explain why that happened?”

Bentrik stared at Augustin for a few seconds. “Internal politics. Every organization suffers from it, and the SSA Navy was no exception. I had pissed off my squadron commander, an admiral with an ego so big he thought he should be commanding a battleship squadron instead of a battlecruiser squadron. He was clearly unfit for his rank, and I made the mistake of expressing that opinion in a way that came to his attention. He had friends in the Personnel Department who acted on his request to punish me. They couldn’t dismiss me altogether. That would have been hard to justify at that point in the war when experienced command officers were in short supply, so they gave me a light cruiser instead.”

Augustin leaned back to ponder that reply. His tablet was recording the interview, so there was no need for him to make notes other than mental ones. Bentrik’s explanation was entirely plausible, which did not necessarily mean it was true. From his record, it was clear that Bentrik was a highly intelligent and capable individual. If he wanted to hide the real reason, he would certainly try to find an alternate story that was plausible and internal politics was ideal in that regard. The Federation Army was no exception either. Even General Travis’s senior officers, men, and women dedicated to winning the war and to keeping the Merlin secret had seen their share of jockeying for position and prestige.

“Hm. Which you retained command of until you surrendered your ship eight months ago.” When it was clear that Bentrik would not respond to that comment, Augustin continued. “Here’s the puzzling aspect of that shift in responsibility. Your light cruiser was not assigned to any squadron during the entire time you commanded her. Isn’t it unusual for light cruisers to be given independent missions? They don’t have the endurance, the supplies for long-duration missions in enemy territory such as commerce raiding. What type of missions did your ship undertake under your command?”

Bentrik shrugged again. “Oh, this and that. Sometimes we carried important people who had to be shifted around urgently. Sometimes we acted as couriers. We never did have enough courier ships, you know.”

“Using light cruisers as couriers? Those must have been very important orders you were carrying.”

“We weren’t told what we were carrying, only that we had to deliver the encrypted data file to a specific individual on a specific planet.”

Augustin sighed. What Bentrik had just said was probably true. But it was also clear to him that Bentrik was not going to reveal any military secrets even with the war over. There was one final question that all SSA prisoners were asked before being released.

“One last question, Captain. Do you know anything at all about what happened to the 377 billion Federation sols that the SSA confiscated from its member planets in exchange for SSA currency at the beginning of the war?” Augustin thought he saw a tiny twitch in one of Bentrik’s eyelids but wasn’t completely sure that it really happened.

“I don’t know anything for a fact. I did hear several rumors at various times during the war.”

“We’d be interested in rumors,” said Augustin.

“Well, the first rumor was that the currency had been destroyed outright. I never thought that was credible. Even a freighter officer like me could see that the SSA should try to use that currency to buy equipment and resources from Federation planets that were sympathetic to the SSA. I have no idea if that was attempted. Another rumor was that the currency had been smuggled to a sympathetic Federation planet and simply hidden away in a secret location. The last rumor was that some high SSA officials were trying to bribe Federation politicians to issue them pardons. So, take your pick, Colonel.”

Augustin stared at Bentrik for a few seconds. You’d like us to take those rumors seriously, wouldn’t you, Captain? Army Intelligence would be chasing its tail for years, searching for hidden caches of currency somewhere on dozens, perhaps hundreds of planets, or checking the financial records of thousands of Federation officials. Well, I’m not buying what you’re selling, Captain Bentrik.

“Thank you for that information, Captain. We’ll give those rumors all the attention they deserve. That concludes this interview. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that you’re going to be released tomorrow.”

“Glad to hear it, Colonel,” said Bentrik, who seemed to relax a bit.

Augustin smiled and stood up to leave. Just as he reached the door, he heard Bentrik’s voice.

“The Federation is doomed. You know that, don’t you, Colonel?”

Augustin was glad he was facing away from Bentrik so that the Captain wouldn’t see the look of surprise come over his face. When he had his knee-jerk reaction back under control, he turned to Bentrik.

“That’s a provocative statement, Captain. What makes you think that?”

Bentrik leaned back and smiled. “One hundred and thirty planets joined the SSA. Think about that for a minute or two, Colonel. Do you think they took that drastic of a step because they were bored? They took it because they were pissed off by the unfair, indifferent attitude of the Federation Council that turned a blind eye to the persistent and insatiable economic exploitation of those planets by Terra-based interstellar corporations. And did the war change any of that exploitive behavior? No. Those 130 planets are worse off now than they were before the war due to the disruption of trade, the slow re-introduction of Federation currency, and the fear generated from the presence of Federation troops. Tell me something, Colonel. Do you think the people on those occupied planets feel less anger at the Federation now or more?”

“More,” said Augustin.

That admission seemed to surprise Bentrik. “What a nice change of pace to meet a Federation military person who isn’t blinded by his own loyalty. Yes, more. And then there are those planets that didn’t join the SSA, but deep down, they really wanted to. The Federation has existed for eight centuries. That’s a long time for any political organization. It’s tired and rickety, and it has just pushed itself to the edge of bankruptcy to put down a rebellion. My guess is that it won’t have recovered completely from that effort before the next rebellion breaks out, and maybe next time, it’ll be 200 planets or more that succeed. Sooner or later, the corrupt structure will collapse under its own weight. I sense that you know that to be true, Colonel. And yet, you still work to prop it up. Why?”

Augustin was tempted to tell Bentrik about Merlin’s prediction but held back. There’s no point in telling you, Captain, because there’s nothing either one of us can do to prevent it.

“Because a tired and rickety structure is better than chaos and anarchy, Colonel.” Before Bentrik could reply, Augustin opened the door and left.

Chapter Two

Malverton, Capital of Marduk, Day 112 of 869 A.E.

Augustin stepped off the elevator at the 34th floor of the office tower where the offices of the Bentrik Interstellar Shipping company were located. The Reception desk had a live person manning it instead of the kind of android that many Terran Corporations were using. She smiled at him as he approached.

“How may I help you, sir?”

He smiled back and took a metal case containing his business cards out of his inside jacket pocket. “I’d like to see Aren Bentrik if possible. Here’s my card.”

She took the metal chip, activated the hologram image of a typical business card, glanced at it, and looked back up at him. “If you’ll take a seat in the waiting area, Mister Augustin, I’ll check if Mister Bentrik is available.”

“Thank you,” he said before turning to walk over to the alcove that had comfortable chairs with small computer screens attached to the arms. He expected to have to wait a while and was surprised when the Receptionist came over to him not more than a couple of minutes later.

“Mister Bentrik will see you now. Please follow me.” She led him down a wide corridor to a set of double doors that opened at their approach. “Here you are, Mister Augustin.”

He stepped through the doorway into a very large office that took up one corner of the building. Bentrik was getting up from his seat behind a wide metal desk in the far corner.

“Colonel Augustin, I never expected to see you again.” The two men approached each other, and Augustin took note of the fact that Bentrik hadn’t offered to shake hands.

“I could say the same about you, Captain. Perhaps you would prefer to be addressed some other way.”

Bentrik shrugged. “My friends call me Aren. You can call me Mister Bentrik.”

Augustin looked at Bentrik carefully. His expression was neutral. Augustin noted that Bentrik’s hair had some silver mixed in with his natural brown, and there were a few wrinkles around the eyes that he didn’t remember seeing 14 years ago. It was clear from Bentrik’s answer that he still held hard feelings toward Augustin. That’s okay. He’ll change his tune by the time I’m finished talking with him, thought Augustin.

“Okay. Mister Bentrik it is. You’re wondering why I’m here. I’m no longer with Army Intelligence. I retired from the Army eight months ago. After taking the first real vacation since before the war, I sold all my worldly possessions and came here to see if I could find you. I was surprised to see that you own a shipping company. Very impressive. May I sit down? I have a story to tell you that I think you’re going to be glad to hear, and we might be talking for a while.”

Bentrik stared at him for a few seconds before gesturing to some chairs arranged around a low table. “I can spare you a few minutes, Colonel.”

Augustin sat down and took a deep breath. He was about to cross a line that he never imagined he’d do in his wildest dreams. If General Travis were here, he’d call it treason.

“A quick question first. Do you know how General Foxx Travis was able to crush the SSA, Mister Bentrik?”

“The obvious answer is that the Federation out produced us in everything from troops and tanks to ships and missiles. Is there another answer?”

“There is. While it’s true that having superior numbers compared to your enemy is a distinct advantage, the numbers involved, millions of troops, thousands of tanks, hundreds of ships, would also present a very difficult logistical and planning problem, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes. We had enough trouble coordinating our own logistics and planning with far fewer chess pieces to keep track of. Ordinarily, I’d have expected that level of complexity to offset some of the numerical advantages, but it didn’t seem to.”

“That’s right, and it didn’t because General Travis had a completely new kind of supercomputer operating on a different principle to oversee all the strategy, tactics, and logistics. That supercomputer, which had the codename Merlin, was the real genius behind the General. Without Merlin, the Federation might still have won eventually, but it would have taken far longer and cost far more. But that’s not the whole story I came here to tell you. When it became clear that the SSA was collapsing and that the Federation had won, General Travis and his staff, which included me, decided to use Merlin to project what would happen to the Federation as a whole and to individual planets, like Marduk, in the future. We were shocked to learn that Merlin predicted a gradual decline that would last centuries until the Federation dissolved and anarchy reigned over human civilization. Most planets would decivilize to a lower-tech level, in some cases all the way back to a pre-industrial, pre-gunpowder level. It would be a new Dark Age, and recovery would be slow and difficult. We didn’t believe the projection at first and ran it again multiple times with different assumptions. The basic trend stayed the same with only minor variations. You were right about the Federation eventually collapsing. It’s already begun doing so.” He stopped to take a cigar made from Poictesme tobacco out of his jacket and held it up. “May I?”

Bentrik nodded.

After lighting his cigar, Augustin continued. “When we finally accepted the results, we asked Merlin how the future would change if knowledge of its prediction became widely known. The answer to that was even more shocking. Planets would abandon the Federation even faster and begin arming themselves to protect what they already had or try to take resources from other planets in order to avoid the decline. That kind of beggar-thy-neighbor strategy would accelerate the decline, but instead of dying with a whimper, human civilization would go out with a bang as wars broke out and atomic bombardment of cities took place.” He stopped again to take a puff. Bentrik remained silent.

“Clearly, the downward projection had to be kept secret from the public. Travis made us all swear an oath to keep that knowledge secret and even to keep the existence of Merlin secret. It’s still sitting there sealed up in the backup command center that Travis used on Poictesme. But that still isn’t the whole story. While the others were getting ready to have a final drink with the General and swear the oath to keep the secrets, I had Merlin run another projection, this time from a hypothetical point of view. I asked it what would have to happen in order for the new Dark Age to be avoided or at least delayed. Here’s the answer.” He reached into his jacket pocket, took out a folded piece of computer printout, and handed it to Bentrik, who unfolded it and read it.

“Am I understanding this correctly, Colonel? If a resurgent SSA conquered the Federation and then morphed into a dictatorship, the entire decline into anarchy could be avoided?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it says.”

Bentrik read it again, then looked at Augustin. “Did you inform Travis and the others about this?”

“I did. They dismissed it as a moot point because the SSA was dead, and their oaths to the Federation prevented them from even considering trying to resurrect it. I struggled with my conscience and finally came to the conclusion that I could live with violating my oath if it meant saving millions from further wars, famine, disease, and anarchy.”

Bentrik put the printout down on the table and stared off into infinity for a few seconds. When he turned his gaze back to Augustin, he said, “I need a drink, and I think it’s time I offered you one too. What would you like, Colonel?”

“Melon brandy if you have it.”

Bentrik smiled. “I do.” He then got up and went over to a wall unit that turned out to have a hidden bar. After pouring two drinks from the same bottle, he brought them over to his desk, put one down, and activated a control. “Hold all my calls and reschedule my next appointment.” With that out of the way, he came back and handed one glass to Augustin. Bentrik remained standing as he took a sip and nodded. “Damn, that brandy is good.” After taking another sip, he sat back down and looked at Augustin.

“I’m a bit at a loss for words, Colonel. On the one hand, it’s gratifying to hear a former enemy admit that the SSA was a legitimate movement. On the other hand, I’m dismayed to hear that former SSA planets will also be hit hard by this new Dark Age. And as emotionally satisfying as it is to hear you say that a resurgent SSA should conquer the Federation, I have to admit that I have difficulty seeing how that can be accomplished. The Federation may be economically weaker this time around, but it still has all those ships, tanks, guns, missiles, and the means to produce more sitting in the Gartner Tri-system. That’s…” He stopped when he saw Augustin shake his head.

“Now we’re finally getting to the rest of the story,” said Augustin. “You’re wrong about all of that equipment waiting to be taken up by the Federation Army and Navy again. Poictesme passed the Abandoned Property Act of 867 in which all Federation assets, not just on Poictesme but in the entire Gartner Tri-system that was left behind after the war ended, is considered abandoned and can be claimed by Poictesme citizens or companies. Someone brought a suit against that legislation all the way to the Federation Supreme Court, and they upheld it. Do you realize what that means? If individuals supporting a resurgent SSA were to go to Poictesme and set up salvage companies, they could stake claims to all the military assets on the planet and on Koshchei, where all those ships, tanks, and missiles were manufactured during the war. The new SSA would have those assets, including the Merlin supercomputer, not the Federation.”

Bentrik’s eyes opened wide as he realized that a resurgent SSA could if it was careful, build up a numerically superior military force and overpower the Federation. He very much wanted to tell Augustin about the underground operation that he and his fellow former officers were building with the leftover Federation sols that he had hidden on Abigor during that last visit. But as enticing as bringing Augustin in on the conspiracy was, he had to be certain that the Colonel really was retired from Army Intelligence and was not a double agent trying to trick him into exposing the movement.

“I’ll admit that what you’re saying is very exciting. Turning the tools and weapons built by the Federation against them would be very satisfying. Where are you staying?” Augustin told him.

“Not the best accommodations that Marduk can offer, but it’s near the spaceport, which makes it convenient. Here’s what I suggest. Go back to your hotel room and wait. I need to do some checking. If I can confirm that Poictesme passed that Abandoned Property Act and the Supreme Court ruling, then I’ll invite you to join me for lunch, and we can discuss this idea further. Can I keep this printout?”

“Yes. I’ve read it so many times that I’ve memorized it. How long will this fact-checking take?”

“I hope not more than 24 hours, 48 at the most. By the way, my Company will be picking up the tab for your hotel room, meals, and entertainment, so don’t hesitate to take advantage of that.”

“Thank you, Mister Bentrik.”

Bentrik looked at Augustin with an amused expression. “You can call me, Aren, from now on, Colonel.”

“And I’m Leonhard, Aren.”

“I’m glad we got that settled.” Bentrik stood up to signal that this meeting was over. Augustin did the same. Bentrik offered his hand, and Augustin shook it.

“You’ll be hearing from me in a day or two. I promise.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to that lunch with you, Aren.”

Bentrik escorted Augustin to his outer office and asked his Administrative Assistant to show him the way back to the elevators. Once back in his office, he verbally ordered his computer to run a search for Federation Supreme Court decisions regarding Poictesme. The answer came back within seconds. The FSC had reviewed a case involving the Abandoned Property Act of 867 and had ruled that the Act was valid and enforceable. Bentrik then asked for and read the legislation itself to verify that Augustin’s claim was accurate. When he satisfied himself that it was, he set up a secure conference call with four other individuals. It was time to get the Phoenix involved. When the holograms of all four members were present, Bentrik told them about his meeting with Augustin and the new information.

“So, you think this former Army Intelligence officer can be trusted?” asked the Chairman.

“I think we should not dismiss this initiative out of hand. Could Colonel Augustin still be working for the Federation as an undercover agent? It’s possible. I’ll grant you that. But if he’s sincere, then we’d be missing a priceless opportunity to advance the Plan by decades if we just ignore him,” said Bentrik.

“So, how do we find out if he’s sincere or an undercover agent?” asked the Chairman.

“I’ve given that some thought while I was checking on the accuracy of the Act and Supreme Court decision. We don’t need to tell him about the Phoenix or the Plan in order to take advantage of this situation. I can make the case to him that initiating salvage claims on abandoned facilities on Poictesme, in particular the site of their supercomputer, plus all the industrial infrastructure on Koshchei, would make sense even from a strictly economic point of view. With any decision to go in a military direction to be deferred to some future point when Marduk is economically strong enough for her political leaders to consider it. That way, if he is an undercover agent, he’ll report back that my interest is just economic, not military.”

“That case would have to be very convincing to allay any suspicions he might have,” said one of the other members.

Bentrik laughed. “The nice thing about this is that I don’t have to lie or exaggerate. The Company has thirteen freighters now. If we can get the manufacturing facilities on Koshchei operational again, it might not be too long before the Company has a hundred and thirty freighters. Think of the financial resources that would generate for the Phoenix. I don’t have to try very hard in order to get excited about that possibility. And if he is sincerely interested in seeing a resurgent SSA rise up from the ashes, I’ll point out to him that those one hundred and thirty freighters, which will be designed to be easily converted to troop carriers, will be needed when the new SSA does flex its muscles. Having Merlin, their supercomputer, available to maximize the economic and financial benefits might, in the long run, be more valuable to the Plan than Koshchei. Keep in mind that when we start re-activating those mines, factories, and shipyards on Koshchei, the Federation is bound to notice and concentrating on building unarmed freighters for a while will lull them to sleep.”

“But what if it doesn’t lull them to sleep. What if they keep a close eye on what kinds of ships we build there?” asked the Chairman.

Bentrik took his time answering that question. “Do any of you remember Project Shotgun?” None of them did. “Shotgun never got beyond the conceptual stage because the war ended before anything could be built, but I heard from one of the Project people that their simulations showed that large freighters would be ideal for carrying small, armed, and armored craft that don’t have hyperjump capability. It would be nice if Koshchei could build both, but it’s not necessary. The missile boats, for lack of a better name, could be built in secret somewhere else, while unarmed motherships are built to look like commercial freighters on Koshchei.”

“Built somewhere else? Like where and how?” asked another member.

Bentrik nodded. “Very good questions. Right now, I don’t know where we’d build them, but that’s the kind of question that I think the supercomputer could answer. As for how I think you’re asking how do we finance that kind of major covert operation and all I can tell you now is my strong hunch that if we exploit both Koshchei and Merlin for purely financial gain to start with, we’ll have the capital we’d need to fund that kind of project. Clearly, this will be an undertaking that will take years, but that’s a huge improvement over the decades that we were thinking of up until today.”

“Does anyone have more questions for Phoenix Two?” asked the Phoenix One. Everyone said no. “Very well then. Can we agree that Phoenix Two should pursue this further, at least to the point of determining whether this Augustin is sincerely trying to help us or is an undercover agent trying to expose us?” There was unanimous agreement. “We look forward to hearing the results of your lunch with Augustin, Phoenix Two.”

When all four holograms had disappeared, Bentrik reached for a cigar, lit it, and leaned back in his chair. After taking a few puffs, he looked at the cigar. It was made from Poictesme tobacco. One of the Company’s freighters visited Poictesme about twice a year and always brought back cases of cigars because they were quite profitable when resold on Marduk but also because the Head of the Company liked them. He would wait until tomorrow morning before having his Administrative Assistant call Augustin to invite him for lunch at a luxurious restaurant whose owner was a Phoenix member. If the invitation went out today, Augustin might get the idea that he held the upper hand. He hadn’t mentioned what he wanted out of any arrangement, but Bentrik was sure that he would want something. And as long as it was a reasonable request, Bentrik was inclined to accept it.

He had an air-limo bring Augustin to the restaurant where Bentrik was waiting for him. They shook hands, and Bentrik waited until Augustin had given the robot waiter his drink order before getting down to business.

“I was able to confirm everything you said about the Abandoned Property Act and the Supreme Court ruling on its validity. I’m sure you’ve given this a lot of thought, so please tell me how you think this opportunity should be exploited in terms of what actions my Company and I should take now?”

“You’re right. I have given this a lot of thought. Poictesme is crammed with abandoned military sites that are well hidden. They contain everything from command centers, ammo and supply depots, vehicle depots including tanks and armored personnel carriers, hospitals, basing for troops, repair depots, and even a shipyard built inside an extinct volcano. I don’t remember where most of the sites are located. The only two exceptions I do remember clearly are the Duplicate Force Command site containing Merlin and the volcano shipyard. If your people claim and gain access to the Merlin site, they’ll find data on the exact locations of everything else. So that would be my first goal. The second claim should be the shipyard. If anyone happens to fly over it at low altitude, they’ll see that there’s something inside worth claiming. It can be used to build ships from scratch, but Koshchei would be the better place to do that. The volcano shipyard is more suited to repairs and routine maintenance. If one of your freighters micro-jumps to Koshchei, it’ll be able to quickly identify the major industrial sites from orbit and will then be able to file claims by microwave transmission with the appropriate authorities on Poictesme. I don’t remember what else there might be besides the infrastructure. There could be interplanetary ships stored there and maybe even a jump-capable ship or two. The mines are all robotic, so it should be relatively easy to get them going again. The same goes for the smelters. It’ll be the parts manufacturing and assembly facilities that will require human supervision. Since you happen to own a shipping company, having more and bigger freighters built on Koshchei would be of direct financial benefit to you, so you might want to start hiring more officers and crews now to have them ready when the ships are built. I would not recommend building warships right off the bat. The re-opening of Koshchei is bound to attract media attention on Poictesme for a while, at least. When the media get bored with what’s happening on Koshchei will be the time to start working on warships and military transports. Does that answer your question, Aren?”

“It does indeed. I was thinking along those lines as well. Whatever military aspirations I might dream of would have to wait at least a few years until Marduk’s economy and my Company have the financial resources that would be needed for something like that.” Bentrik stopped to let the robot waiter deliver Augustin’s drink. “Do you see yourself in a particular role in this whole endeavor?”

Augustin took a sip of his drink and smiled. “Yes. Someone has to supervise the computer staff who will operate Merlin. I was one of General Travis’s staff, and I know what Merlin is capable of and how to get the most out of it. I’d like that supervisory position.”

Bentrik nodded. “That makes perfect sense. What kind of compensation would you expect to receive?”

Agustin took a sip from his drink before answering. “My knowledge of where Merlin is precisely located is the only leverage I have. It’s like knowing where a particularly rich gold deposit is. If that’s what we were talking about, it would be normal for me to want a percentage of the value of the gold extracted from that deposit, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose so.”

“Since the Duplicate Force Command site also includes the precise locations of all those other sites we talked about yesterday, I think any discussion of a percentage should include the value of those other sites as well. I remember the total costs of building and stocking all the Federation sites on Poictesme because the number was so large. It was 3.4 billion sols. One percent of that would be 34 million sols, and ten percent of that number would be 3.4 million sols. That’s what I would like to receive, plus an annual salary that would be commensurate with my duties. I think you might have a better idea about that than I would.”

So you’re not just doing this for humanitarian reasons, thought Bentrik. On the other hand, if I was in your position, I’d try to milk this opportunity for as much as possible too. “The percentage is not unreasonable, but the amount is large enough to be a problem for my company to pay right now.”

“Yes, I would imagine that it would be. How much could your company pay now?”

“Half a million,” said Bentrik. “The rest could be in company bonds with a staggered maturity so that you’d get the rest over a, let’s say ten year period.”

“No, not ten years. Marduk could be at war with the Federation again in ten years, and bonds issued by a Mardukan company might not be worth anything except on Marduk, and if I’m still supervising Merlin on Poictesme, those bonds might not do me any good. Five years. If half a million now, that would leave 2.9 million. Why don’t we round it off to three million with six hundred thousand sols worth of bonds maturing every 12 months? Salary, interest, and principal to be paid to my bank account on Poictesme.”

Bentrik made a mental note to himself never to play poker with Aren. Anyone that good of a negotiator was also likely to be a very good poker player. If he delivered what he was promising, the 3.5 million would be a bargain over the long term. It occurred to Bentrik that Augustin might be trying to pull off a scam instead of an undercover operation. That idea was so amusing that he almost laughed out loud. He controlled that urge just in time.

“I’ll agree to those terms with a caveat. The upfront payment of half a million is contingent on finding the location of Third Fleet-Army’s Duplicate Force Command and confirmation that it contains the Merlin supercomputer. I want to have Company computer people look over whatever’s in that complex, and if they confirm that it’s an unusual machine, then you get your half a million. The bonds will be delivered when we have confirmation of the types and locations of all the other military sites on Poictesme. Is that acceptable?”

Augustin didn’t answer right away. On the surface, it was a reasonable demand to get confirmation first, but it wasn’t specific enough.

“Who will determine when all of your conditions have been met?”

Bentrik’s impulse was to name one of his company’s Executive Vice-Presidents. But on second thought, he realized that he needed to go to Poictesme to see these sites, or at least the main ones, himself to be able to assure the rest of the Phoenix Directors that Augustin’s claims were legit.

“I will. I’ll be going with you to Poicetesme. I’ll bring the bonds with me, and when I’m satisfied that you haven’t misled us or exaggerated anything, I’ll turn them over to you personally.”

Augustin considered that while taking a sip of his drink. “Fine. I will want to see those bonds before we leave Marduk if that’s okay with you.”

Bentrik laughed. “Don’t you trust me, Leonhard?”

Augustin laughed too. “I trust you just as much as you trust me. Aren. Former enemies can become friends but not overnight. We’ve made a good start, though.”

“Yes, I agree. Let’s order our food. We can tell each other exaggerated war stories while we eat.”

“Except for the classified ones, right?”

“Yes, except for those.”

Bentrik found the rest of the lunch quite pleasant, and he had to keep reminding himself to watch what he said. Augustin didn’t know about the improved FTL drive technology that the R&D people on Abigor had developed in time to upgrade the refugee fleet and which all 13 of his company’s hyper-freighters used. Taking one of his ships to Poictesme would reveal that capability, but only after they arrived there and during the trip, he’d have plenty of time to get to know Leonhard better. If he decided that the former Army Intelligence officer was lying to him, they’d jettison his body into space as soon as the ship emerged back into normal Gartner Tri-system space. As Augustin was finishing his coffee, Bentrik returned the conversation back to business.

“I’m expecting one of my ships, Spirit of Ashmodai, to arrive in about forty-eight hours or so. That’s the ship we’ll take to Poictesme. I might need another day or two to arrange for the computer and financial people that will accompany us, plus the bonds of course and any equipment we’ll need. Speaking of which, what should we bring along that we’ll need to get into Third Fleet-Army Force Command?”

“The complex isn’t locked, but the entrances are blocked with vitrified rubble. That’s going to take some heavy equipment that I’m certain can be rented or bought if necessary on Poictesme.”

Bentrik thought about that for a few seconds before responding. “I’d hate to travel all that way only to find out that the necessary equipment isn’t available. The ship has enough cargo space to carry construction equipment like that and also some vehicles. I think we’ll need those to visit all the sites and make visual recordings for the claims registrations if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’d forgotten about getting around. Some of the sites, like the volcano shipyard, are on a different continent from the main cities. Now that I think about it, you’ll probably want to take along portable, modular shelters for the work crews to use while they’re gaining access to these sites.”

Bentrik nodded as he pulled out a data tablet from his pocket. “Let’s start making a list while we finish our coffees. What about…”

Chapter Three

The ship was loaded and ready six days later. Once Bentrik had really put his mind to planning the expedition, as he now thought of it, the list of equipment and supplies became quite long. In addition to construction equipment that could pulverize and remove the vitrified rock, the ship carried two aircars and two airbuses plus portable shelters with equipment for storing and preparing food at the sites plus sanitation facilities, communication equipment, and last but not least, weapons and ammo. After listening to Leonhard describe the types of predators roaming the wilderness on Poictesme, Bentrik decided that bringing some assault rifles and plenty of ammo would be a prudent precaution.

The trip went smoothly. Bentrik and Augustin spent considerable time playing chess or poker with the other passengers and crew. Bentrik let Augustin think that the trip would take the amount of time that it normally would using the standard FTL drive that the rest of the Federation was still using. But on the day when the ship was scheduled to arrive at the Gartner Tri-system, Bentrik decided to inform Augustin over breakfast of their impending arrival.

“We’ll be arriving in the Gartner Tri-system later today, Leonhard.”

“How is that possible? You told me the trip would take four more months.”

“Yes, I know I did, and that was to keep you in the dark about the improved FTL drives my ships have for as long as possible. I needed time to get to know you better before deciding whether to reveal that classified secret.”

Augustin was frowning as he processed that response. When he spoke, it was in a slow and low voice. “If you had decided that revealing that secret was not a good idea then, considering that I would have realized it anyway when the ship arrived far sooner than expected, you must have been prepared to make sure I couldn’t tell anyone else. I wouldn’t have left this ship alive, would I?”

“No.”

“But you’re telling me this now. Does that mean I’ve passed the test?”

“Yes. I’m happy to say that I’ve resolved whatever doubts I might have had about your sincerity during the trip here. Now that you know about the improved FTL drive, I need to have your word that you won't divulge it to anyone else.”

“Yes, of course. I give you my word on that.”

“Good! I imagine that you have some questions about the new drive?”

“Yes. When and where was it developed?”

“Abigor. Abigor is about as far from the frontlines during the war as an SSA planet could be. At the beginning of the war, our President decided that we needed a dedicated R&D program safe from attack, and a lot of manpower and material resources were sent to Abigor to set up that program. They worked on a lot of possible breakthroughs. The new FTL drive is the only major breakthrough made before the war ended. There wasn’t enough time to retrofit all of our warships before the collapse, but the refugee fleet did have enough time to retrofit the new drives before heading off to God knows where. When my light cruiser got there, the decision was made not to upgrade it because sooner or later, I’d have to surrender the ship to the Federation Navy, and we didn’t want the Federation to have that technology. Even back then, plans were being made to set up an interstellar shipping company with medium-sized hyper-freighters that could compete profitably with the big Federation shipping lines like TBMS because they could use the new drives to make more trips in the same amount of time.”

“Fascinating. But how did you prevent anyone from figuring out that your ships were faster when they compared arrival times?”

“To hide the fact that our ships are faster, we would send them on a multi-planet route where each leg was shorter than normal, but by the time the ship got back again to the same planet, enough time had passed to make it seem that the ship had only been to one other planet before returning instead of five or six.”

“I see. That would do the trick, alright. How much faster is the new technology?”

“Ten times faster. Instead of each lightyear taking ten hours, it now only takes one hour. That’s why this trip only took fourteen days instead of a hundred and thirty-nine.”

“Incredible. That means that any fleet of upgraded warships will have the same strategic impact as ten fleets. Tell me something, Aren. You’ve been downplaying the urgency of building warships in order to concentrate on building Marduk’s economy first. That made sense when I didn’t know about the superior FTL drive. Now that I know about it, I think there should be an urgency to build warships sooner rather than later. The longer you wait, the more likely it is that the Federation will either stumble across the new technology from one of your ships or will develop it themselves. Surely you see that.”

Bentrik smiled. “I do. Now that I’ve convinced myself that you’re trustworthy, I’ll let you in on a few more secrets. There’s a secret organization called Phoenix, which has the aim of resurrecting the SSA in some form. Before you came to Marduk, we were thinking in terms of decades before trying to formally establish the SSA again. Now, we’re thinking in terms of years, and our plans always assumed that the new SSA would have to fight for its survival. Those plans called for establishing a shipbuilding industry on the moon orbiting Tanith. That moon is loaded with metals just like Koshchei is. Tanith has a small population and doesn’t get much hyper-freighter traffic. We figure we might be able to set up the mining, refining, manufacturing, and shipbuilding complex on its moon without the planet’s inhabitants even knowing about it. It would certainly be below the Federation Navy’s radar. But now that possession of Koshchei looks like a real option; our plan has been modified. What we’re thinking now is that Koshchei will build warships but not arm them or armor them. Those ships will then travel to Tanith’s moon, where the armor and weapons will be added. When those ships leave Koshchei, they’ll look like hyper-freighters from the outside, and only a detailed inspection by someone who’s an engineer would reveal that the ships had extra structural support with internal armor and electronics that would support weapons and defensive systems.”

“That makes perfect sense. How far along is the Tanith moon complex?”

Bentrik laughed. “We haven’t even started on it yet. Remember I said we were thinking in terms of decades? But depending on how extensive the infrastructure is on Koshchei, we may be able to relocate some of it to Tanith’s moon. That would be faster and definitely a whole lot cheaper than building from scratch.”

Augustin stared off into infinity for a few seconds before responding. “It just occurred to me that the new ships to be built on Koshchei should be used as freighters at least for a while. Otherwise, people might begin to wonder why these new ships aren’t showing up anywhere, and if that’s the case, then I suggest they be built with the older FTL drives but in such a way that the drives can be easily upgraded with the newer version when the ship is finally converted to a warship.”

“Hm. Yes, these ships will be bigger than the ones my company is using now and would only make sense if they’re used to carry cargo between highly populated planets like Terra, Odin, Baldur, or Marduk. Therefore, we wouldn’t want to attract attention by showing up too quickly, which is why you’re suggesting using the old technology until we’re ready to convert the freighter fleet into a warship fleet.”

Augustin didn’t have any more questions, and the discussion turned to other things. It was night when the ship landed at the Storisende spaceport. While the Captain attended to the usual red tape at the spaceport offices, Bentrik used the ship’s communication system to find out what hotel accommodations were available for the crew and passengers. He wanted something comfortable but not luxurious. That would draw unwanted attention. There was a hotel not far from the spaceport that seemed to fit the bill, and before long, air taxis had taken the passengers and most of the crew there. By the time everyone was registered and settled into their rooms, it was less than an hour to sunrise, and Bentrik decided to stay up. As soon as the hotel restaurant was open, he went down to have what his body thought was dinner but was actually breakfast. Augustin came in and sat down as Bentrik was just about finished eating.

“How’s the food?” asked Augustin.

“The eggs Benedict is not bad. The coffee takes a bit of getting used to, though. Marduk coffee is better.”

“Yes, I remember that from when I was here during the war,” said Augustin. He ordered eggs benedict from the robot waiter, then looked at Bentrik. “So, what’s the plan for the rest of today?”

“Well, as soon as we’re both finished breakfast, I’m going to round up the computer and construction people we brought along, and you can show us where the Duplicate Force Command is. You and I will take one of the aircars. The others will follow in an airbus.”

“Fine. There should be enough light by then. The construction people won’t be able to do anything until they bring the heavy equipment along, though.”

“I understand that, but I wanted them along so that they know where it is when they bring the equipment back and also to give them an idea of how to start digging. When we get there, you can indicate to me and them where the entrances used to be. Once we’ve got that straight in our minds, we’ll come back after taking pictures for the land claim. My assistant will have started looking around for a lawyer to handle the incorporation of a salvage company and the land claims as we make them. By the time we get back, the banks should be open, and you and I will go to one of them, open the necessary accounts so that I can deposit the money I brought along. How long do you estimate it will take to gain access to the interior of the complex?”

Augustin thought that over for a bit. “I’m not sure. Not less than two days, but maybe not more than four. It depends on how fast the equipment that was brought along can cut through the vitrified rock.”

“That will give me time to get some other things arranged.”

The waiter brought Augustin’s food just as Bentrik finished his meal and shifted his attention to his coffee. Augustin ate as quickly as he could. When they were done, Bentrik gathered the others, and two air taxis took them back to the ship where the cargo section was already open. Minutes later, Augustin was sitting next to Bentrik in an aircar that was heading to the Badlands on autopilot with the airbus following behind. It took almost an hour to reach the mesa where the complex was buried.

As Augustin took manual control of the aircar and began circling the mesa, he marveled once again that it really did look as though a giant had cut the top half off a mountain.

“Are you sure this is the right one?” asked Bentrik. “It looks completely untouched.”

Augustin nodded. “Yes, the engineers worked hard to make it look that way. This is the one, alright. The entrance is on the side of the mesa facing the canyon. I’ll show you.” He brought the aircar lower and slowed down. As the craft dropped down below the top of the mesa, they could see the rocky slope less than 20 meters away. When Augustin saw what he was looking for, he made the aircar hover in place and pointed with his left hand.

“There. See over there where the color of the rock is lighter? If you look carefully, you can see that the lighter colored rock is in the shape of a wide oval.” He looked over at Bentrik, who nodded slowly.

“Yes, now that you’ve pointed it out, I do see that. I’d guess that oval is about ten meters wide and maybe eight meters high. That would’ve been enough room to fly all kinds of contra-grav vehicles into it.”

“Yes, everything from air-jeeps to ambulances, cargo carriers, personnel carriers, and tanks,” said Augustin.

“Can you shift over a bit so that the airbus can get a good look?” asked Bentrik.

Augustin made the aircar move sideways about 10 meters while Bentrik established communications with the airbus.

“Okay, Lieutenant, here’s where the heavy equipment will start working. I’m using my laser pointer to outline the opening. Do you see it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Think you can find this spot again on your own?”

“Absolutely, Sir. When you know what you’re looking for, it’s easy to see.”

“Very good, Lieutenant.” Bentrik turned to Augustin. “How far away is the volcano shipyard complex?”

Augustin chuckled. “Too far to get there by subsonic aircar. It’s almost on the other side of the planet. It would take us about twelve hours to fly there with this vehicle. A quick sub-orbital hop aboard your freighter would be a lot faster.”

“Hm. Then let’s head back to Storisende. There’s enough daylight left that we can make a quick trip there with the ship.”

“Ah, there’s enough daylight left here, but it’s the middle of the night over where the shipyard is. If we wait for another seven hours or so before making the sub-orbital hop, we’ll get there just after sunrise.”

“Why would we need daylight to see what’s inside the volcano?” asked Bentrik.

“It’s not the inside that’s the problem. I’ve been to that complex several times, twice during daylight and once at night, and while I’m confident I can find it in daylight, I’m also pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to find it at night. If you wait until we can access Merlin’s database, you’ll have the exact coordinates that the freighter can hover over. But if you want to see it sooner, you’ll have to let me navigate by daylight over there.”

“Seven hours from now will be the middle of the night as far as our bodies’ sleep cycle is concerned. The volcano will have to wait for another day, maybe tomorrow.” He switched the com channel back on. “Lieutenant? Made sure someone takes lots of pictures of this mesa and the surrounding territory. We’ll need that when we register the land claim. We’re heading back to the city now. Your vehicle doesn’t need to stay in formation. You can even land on the mesa and look around if you wish, but the Colonel and I are heading back now.”

“Okay, Sir. We’ll see you back at the hotel.”

Bentrik turned back to Augustin. “I’m going to close my eyes while we head back.”

“I could use a nap too. I’ll set the autopilot.”

The autopilot woke Augustin when they were five minutes out from Storisende. Bentrik woke up as the aircar landed in front of the hotel.

“Good,” said Bentrik, “If you wait in the car, I’ll be back after I get the money from the hotel safe.” Augustin nodded his acknowledgment.

Bentrik went inside and used the Registration Desk vid-screen to call his Admin Assistant to ask about the search for a lawyer.

“I found one, Sir. Jake Vyckhoven. He specializes in corporate law. I went ahead a made an appointment with him for the two of us for fourteen hundred hours today. I hope that’s convenient for you, Sir.”

“Very good, Elon. I’m going to the bank now with Augustin. I should be back in plenty of time for that appointment. By the way, Elon, let’s use civilian time nomenclature while we’re on Poictesme. If people heard us use military terminology, it might raise suspicions. What about that other task I assigned you?”

“I’ve located that individual. He’s living in Litchfield, a town about two hours flight time by aircar, Sir.”

“Excellent work, Elon. I’ll see you when I’m finished at the bank.”

The visit to one of Poictesme’s larger banks took just over half an hour. Bentrik set up a personal account in his own name and deposited two million sols. That raised a few eyebrows among the bank staff. The manager who was assisting them became a lot more friendly and solicitous after seeing the carrying case full of currency. Augustin also opened a personal account so that it was ready when Bentrik was prepared to transfer the first half million.

By the time they returned to the hotel, Bentrik was hungry enough to have a light lunch. Augustin declined his invitation to join him and suggested having dinner together instead. When it came time to head to the lawyer’s office, Bentrik and his assistant took one of the aircars to Vyckhoven’s office. Vyckhoven turned out to be a tall man in his 30’s, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Borzov had briefed his boss on what little he’d been able to find out about the lawyer on the way there. Vyckhoven apparently had political ambitions to one day run for Planetary President. That implied a need for campaign contributions, and that suggested that the man might be bribeable. Vyckhoven greeted Bentrik with a warm demeanor that, to Bentrik’s mind, was a well-practiced front but which would probably seem genuine to most other people.

“Welcome. I assume you are Aren Bentrik?” Bentrik nodded. After shaking hands with both of them, Vyckhoven gestured to the two comfortable chairs that faced his desk. “Please be seated. I understand from Mister Borzov here that you wish to incorporate a salvage company.”

“That’s correct. How quickly can one be set up?”

“Well, I can submit the application today if you can answer a few questions now. Normally corporate charters are approved within forty-eight hours.”

“Fine. Let’s get started.”

Vyckhoven manipulated the computer console in front of him. “Name of the company?”

Bentrik looked at Borzov and smiled. “The Second Chance Company.”

“Hm. I’m not sure that will be approved. That name may already have been used.”

Bentrik thought for a moment, then said, “What about the Last Chance Company?”

Vyckhoven gave a short laugh. “That might just work. Will you be the sole shareholder?”

“Yes.”

“Your address?”

“I don’t have a permanent address yet. I’ve just arrived on Poictesme.”

Vyckhoven frowned and leaned back in his chair. “That’s a problem. Poictesme companies have to have at least a majority of the voting shares owned by Poictesme citizens. Citizenship takes twelve months of residency. The legislature passed that law because they were worried that off-planet corporate interests would come in and buy up the planet’s resources. This law doesn’t completely prevent that, but it does slow it down.”

Bentrik nodded. “What about ownership of non-voting shares?”

“Oh, there are no restrictions on that. A simple way of getting around this law would be if the company issued a hundred voting shares, of which fifty-one were owned by a Poictesme citizen with the remaining forty-nine owned by yourself along with 100% ownership of a second class of non-voting shares that represent the majority of economic interest in the company’s future profits.”

“Fine. Then let’s do that. Let’s get the company structure set up now and hold off on submitting the application until I can find a citizen to hold the fifty-one voting shares.”

Vyckhoven gave Bentrik a conspiratorial look. “All right. As long as that person has resided on Poictesme for at least twelve months and has a permanent address, that should work.”

Twenty minutes later, Bentrik and Borzov were heading back to the aircar.

“Where are we going to find a citizen willing to cooperate with us?” asked Borzov.

Bentrik smiled. “You and I are going to visit him as soon as we collect personal weapons from the ship.”

Chapter Four

One hundred forty-four minutes later, Bentrik and Borzov walked up to the entrance of a sprawling and slightly rundown ranch house on the outskirts of Litchfield. Before either of them could activate the doorbell, the door opened.

“That’s far enough, strangers. Who the hell are you, and what do you want?”

Bentrik noticed that the man was carrying a rifle. He and Borzov were armed, too but only with handguns. He doubted if he could pull his weapon and fire before being shot by the rifle, but violence wasn’t his objective.

“I’m Captain Aren Bentrik, a former SSA Navy officer, and this is my Aide, Elon Borzov. We’re here to see Coyote Blue.” Bentrik wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have heard some almost silent swearing.

“You’ve got ten seconds to prove your identity,” said the man in a no-nonsense voice.

“How can a man die better than facing fearful odds,” said Bentrik slowly.

“For the ashes of his fathers and the temples of his Gods,” said the man. He adjusted the hold on his rifle to a less threatening position and gestured for the two men to come inside. When they were inside, the man closed the door, leaned the rifle up against the wall, and offered his hand.

“I never thought I’d hear my codename used again,” said the man.

“Quite understandable, Colonel Zareff,” said Bentrik as he shook the hand. “When you informed us three years ago that you no longer wished to act as our agent on Poictesme, we assumed that that was the end of your involvement with us. We’re just as surprised to be here as you are.”

“I haven’t been called Colonel since the war ended. Just call me Klem as everyone does. You two are obviously not here on a social call. What does the Organization want?”

“Can we sit down? This might take a bit of explaining.”

Zareff led them to his living room and gestured for them to sit. When all three were comfortable, Bentrik leaned back and took a deep breath.

“The Organization has been made aware of an opportunity to advance our long-term plan by several decades in a span of just a few years. A former Colonel in Federation Army Intelligence, who used to work under General Foxx Travis here on Poictesme during the war, has more or less defected to our side and is now working with us.” He stopped talking when Zareff held his hand up.

“Wait. More or less defected to our side? What does that mean exactly?”

“It means that he’s interpreting his oath to mean protecting the people of the Federation rather than the way it’s structured. Have you heard rumors that Travis won the war because of a supercomputer nicknamed Merlin?”

Zareff’s eyes opened wide upon hearing that. “Yes. Some of the Army people who were stationed here decided to stay after the war, and I’ve heard them talk about a Merlin supercomputer when they had consumed too many drinks. I chalked it up to wartime propaganda intended to boost morale. Are you telling me now that there’s more to it than that?”

“That’s what this defector claims, and when we’ve got a salvage company set up, we’ll find out if he’s telling us the truth. But I’m inclined to believe him; otherwise, I wouldn’t have come to Poictesme. A computer that can do what Merlin allegedly can do would give our Cause a real boost, but there’s more. The Abandoned Property Act of 867 applies to the entire Gartner Tri-system, including potentially all the industrial and shipbuilding assets on Koshchei. Can you see how having those assets and Merlin on our side would change the odds of success in our favor, Klem?”

Zareff stared off into space for a few seconds before responding. “Oh, my God, yes. I do see the potential. Koshchei was the Federations Arsenal, and this Merlin supercomputer was its General. Without them, the SSA might have won the war. If we had had them on our side, we would have won for sure. I can appreciate how acquiring those assets would speed up the Plan. What do you need from me?” Bentrik told him about the need for a citizen to own a majority of the salvage company’s voting shares. He was surprised when Zareff didn’t agree right away.

“You’re wondering why I’m hesitating?” asked Zareff. “It’s because I’ve made a new life here on Poictesme. The people here have finally accepted me as one of them, and I’m reluctant to put that new life at risk by acting as the frontman for a military operation.”

“Your involvement as the majority voting shareholder can be kept out of the public awareness if you’d rather keep your distance from the project. I’ll own all the rest of the voting shares and all of the non-voting shares. The Board of Directors doesn’t have to be made up of citizens, so you wouldn’t need to be on the Board if you’d prefer not to. I’ll make sure the company pays regular dividends on the voting shares. If and when the Organization moves to a military phase, we’ll try to prevent the people here from learning that our warships were built on Koshchei. I don’t see us getting to that point for a few years yet. The last thing we want to do is jump the gun before we’re ready. And after I or perhaps my Aide here or someone else from the Organization has resided on Poictesme for a year and become a citizen, then if you still are reluctant to be involved, your voting shares can be transferred to someone else for an amount that will be significant.”

The reference to profiting from his involvement made Zareff feel dirty. If he was going to get involved, it would be because he believed in the Cause, not because of any monetary gain.

“I’ll be your frontman for at least a year and maybe longer, Captain.”

“Good. Very good. I knew we could count on you, Colonel Zareff. Can you come to Storisende tomorrow to meet with the lawyer who’s handling the incorporation?”

“Yes. Who is it?”

“Jake Vyckhoven.”

Zareff snorted. “Of all the lawyers in Storisende to pick from, you found the one notorious for being willing to skirt the law if enough money is involved.”

“Then we found the one we were looking for,” said Bentrik. “Mister Borzov will call you tomorrow when we’ve set up the appointment. I don’t think we need to impose on you any further, Colonel.”

“Before you go, I think this agreement deserves to be celebrated with a drink, don’t you?” asked Zareff. Without waiting for an answer, he got up and went over to a liquor cabinet, got out a bottle and three glasses. When each glass had liquid in it, he brought them over and handed each one of them a glass.

“It’s melon brandy, the product of my own plantation. Here’s to the Plan and to the Organization!” Bentrik and Borzov echoed the toast and took a sip.

“That’s nice, brandy,” said Bentrik.

“Yes, a man could get used to it,” said Zareff slowly. “Tell me more about this defector and the unique way he’s interpreting his oath if you don’t mind talking about it.”

“Well, apparently, at war’s end, General Travis and his staff used Merlin to predict what would happen to the Federation after the war. The defector claims that Merlin predicted a decline leading to a new Dark Age where the Federation has collapsed. If news of the prediction spread to the public, the collapse would happen faster and much more violently. So, Travis and his staff agreed that Merlin had to be shut down and the prediction kept secret. Before they abandoned that installation, the defector asked Merlin how the collapse and new Dark Age could be avoided. The answer was if an SSA-type of organization resurfaced and conquered the Federation and then evolved into a one-man dictatorship, which could keep a tight reign on potentially rebellious planets, the collapse could be avoided for centuries. His desire to avoid a violent collapse that would kill millions, perhaps even billions of people, was the rationale for coming to us. I haven’t been able to decide if I admire his sense of morality or despise him for his willingness to violate his oath to the Federation. In any case, when we get access to Merlin, we’ll double-check all these assertions.”

“And how soon do you think that will be?” asked Zareff.

“I’m hoping we’ll have forced our way into the Duplicate Force Command complex within a week.”

“Did you bring people to do that kind of work?”

“Yes, about a dozen. We might need to hire more locally, though.”

“Well, if you do hire locals, I can recommend a young man who would make a good foreman. He’s bright and a hard worker.”

“What’s his name?”

“Rodney Maxwell. He lives here in Litchfield.”

“I’ll keep him in mind if we need someone like that.” Bentrik finished off his drink and put the glass down. Borzov did the same. “Thank you for the drink and for your hospitality, Colonel. We’ll be running along now. It’s been a long day for us because we haven’t adjusted to Poictesme’s day/night cycle yet.”

Zareff showed them to the door and shook hands with both of them. When they were back in their aircar, Bentrik buckled himself in and leaned his head back. “That melon brandy is powerful stuff. I was tired when we arrived here, and now I can barely keep my eyes open. You better set the autopilot once we’re on our way in case you doze off too.” Borzov agreed and did so.

Bentrik felt refreshed when they arrived back at Storisende two hours later. By the time he and Borzov entered the hotel, they were both ready for dinner. Bentrik found Augustin already waiting for him in the hotel dining room. Augustin waited until Bentrik was seated before speaking.

“I’ve already ordered but told them to wait until you arrived before bringing the food to the table. The waiter recommended the steak.”

“Then I’ll order the same along with a non-alcoholic drink. I had some of the local brandy a couple of hours ago, and I can still feel its effects. By the way, we can go ahead with the incorporation now. It should be finalized tomorrow.”

“That’s good to hear. Are you planning on visiting the volcano site tonight?”

“Yes, I’d like to see that installation very much. The Duplicate Force Command site was interesting, but until we gain access, it’s still just a mesa with a vitrified tunnel, if you know what I mean.”

Augustin nodded. “Yes, I do. I think you’ll be impressed by the facilities inside that volcano. Ah, here comes my food.” Augustin waited until Bentrik had ordered his dinner.

Bentrik gestured to Augustin’s food. “Don’t wait for me, Leonhard. Go ahead and start.”

Bentrik’s food arrived by the time Augustin was finished. He ordered dessert and coffee to have something to work on while Bentrik ate his dinner. As a consequence, not much was said until both men were finished eating.

“Ready for dessert and a coffee, Aren?” asked Augustin.

Bentrik shook his head. “No. I think I’d like to get the trip to the volcano organized. It’ll probably take a while to get everyone together again. Maybe I’ll feel like having dessert when we get back. Let’s get going.”

It took another hour before everyone was notified and back on the freighter. Some of his people had not taken the opportunity to nap and were clearly feeling the effects of having been awake for almost 20 hours. Bentrik had little sympathy for them. He had made everyone aware of the possibility that they might take the freighter on a sub-orbital hop to the other side of the planet later that day, so they only had themselves to blame for not having taken time off to sleep. With Augustin’s general directions, the flight took 55 minutes. Bentrik and Augustin were in the freighter’s control room as the ship dropped down below the cloud cover. The main display was showing the landscape below. Augustin stepped forward and pointed.

“That’s it there. I recognize the shape of the opening. It’s large enough for this ship to drop down into the volcano, so I suggest you hover over the opening and then descend slowly, Captain.”

The freighter’s Captain looked to Bentrik, who nodded his confirmation. As the ship began its slow descent, they heard Augustin say, “You might want to turn on your external lights, Captain.” With that order given, the external view now on the main display showed a lot more detail. Bentrik mentally nodded as he watched. Augustin was right. There was a lot of equipment and structures around the inner rim of the volcano, with multiple levels for control rooms, offices, etc. Large pieces of equipment capable of moving ship sections were on the floor that appeared to have been leveled off. As the ship gently settled down on the floor of the volcano, Bentrik turned to Augustin.

“This complex has made the trip to Poictesme worthwhile all by itself.” He turned to his chief engineer. “Your team’s first task is to get the power, lights, and air systems turned on. After that, I’ll want a survey of what’s here, what’s still operable, and what, if anything, needs to be replaced.”

As the engineer went to get his people ready to debark, Bentrik turned to Augustin. “I’d like to go and look around. Can you give me a tour of this installation, Leonhard?”

“Be glad to, Aren.”

As they stepped onto the extended ramp, Bentrik noticed that the air temperature was on the cool side, and the air had an unpleasant smell of something rotting. It seemed to be coming from the volcano’s floor that was covered with mud. Augustin guessed what was on Bentrik’s mind.

“With the open top, winds will blow dust in, and the rain will collect into puddles until the moisture is evaporated away. When this place was active, robots would suck up the water and clean the floor on a regular basis. That smell is probably from micro-organisms blown in by the winds. It might take a while to get rid of the smell. Still want to take that tour?”

“Yes. Let’s start at the top level and work our way down.”

The tour took an hour. Bentrik was impressed by how big the interior space was. There was room to work on two large ships at the same time. As Augustin was showing him around, he wondered if everything had to be brought in via the mouth of the volcano and asked Augustin about that. The answer surprised him.

“There’s an old lava tube that’s been widened and straightened that runs horizontally from a storage level below the floor out to an opening about half a mile away. It’s wide enough to allow contra-gravity vehicles to enter and leave at the same time. Bentrik asked to see it and saw that it was indeed quite wide. The storage area was in a large circle under the walls of the volcano but not in the center where ships would be sitting. The entrance tunnel and the access tunnel to the storage areas held military contra-gravity vehicles, mainly armored personnel carriers. That generated a question in Bentrik’s mind.

“What kind of defenses does this place have?”

Augustin stopped to think. “Ah, let me see if I remember. I don’t know if they’re still here, but there used to be half a dozen missile batteries around the rim of the volcano.”

“Any atomics?” asked Bentrik.

“If there were, they would have been low-yield tactical types, but I’d be surprised if the Army pulled out and left anything like that behind for the locals to find and possibly use on each other.”

“What about at Duplicate Force Command? Could there still be atomics there?”

Augustin shrugged. “Possible but again unlikely. If the Army ever had to reactivate all these sites, it would be easy for them to bring in a shipload of atomic warheads.”

“Is that how Travis got his supply for Third Fleet-Army?” asked Bentrik.

“Initially, yes, but most of the atomic ammo came from Koshchei. It has a lot of fissionables.”

Bentrik said nothing, but he was thinking that using Koshchei to extract, refine and enrich uranium for warhead production was almost as valuable an asset as the shipbuilding capability. The SSA had developed the capacity to build atomic warheads, but the Federation occupation forces had dismantled all those assets and destroyed the uranium mines. Warships without fission warheads were just targets waiting to be vaporized. Tanith’s moon had uranium deposits, too, but those would have to be developed from scratch at great expense using skilled labor that was scarce right now.

After five hours of looking into every room and cataloging every piece of equipment, the exhausted engineering team reported back to the ship where Bentrik and Augustin were waiting. The chief engineer handed Bentrik a data tablet with the results of the survey along with his verbal summary.

“All the large pieces of equipment are still operable. Most of the smaller pieces are too. The ones that aren’t can easily be repaired or replaced from local sources. We didn’t find anything that has to be brought to Poictesme from somewhere else. By the way, there’s lots of infantry equipment, combat armor, weapons, and ammo.”

“Very good, Chief. You and your team can stand down for a rest. We’ll be heading back to Storisende momentarily.” The Captain was ordered to take the ship back, making sure to have pictures of the interior and exterior of the volcano taken for the land claim.

It was still dark when the ship landed at the Storisende spaceport. Bentrik thanked everyone as they left the ship and told them to get a good night’s sleep. He and Augustin agreed that a drink at the bar inside the hotel would be a reasonable thing to do before calling it a day. When the robot waiter had brought their drinks, Augustin took a sip and started the conversation.

“So, the salvage company charter application will be submitted tomorrow. What happens after that?”

“As soon as the charter is granted, we’ll file land claims on the two sites, and when they’re registered, the ship will take the construction team and their equipment out to the Duplicate Force Command site to begin the job of gaining access. While they’re doing that, I’ll set up the Company bank account. While work on that site continues, you and I will take the ship to Koshchei to see what’s left there. We won’t be able to do much other than taking pictures, but at least we can get the land claims for those assets ready. Once I have a good idea of the extent of the industrial assets there, I’ll be able to prepare a request for more personnel to be brought here from Marduk. When the ship takes that request back, I’ll stay here. It may be possible to hire local talent to start the process of turning on the power and life support systems on Koshchei. And while we wait for a ship to come back from Marduk, you and I will visit all those other sites that hopefully, we’ll know where they are from the data stored at the Duplicate Force Command site. Then I’ll be able to transfer the cash and bonds to you. I’m sure that’s what you’re waiting for, right?”

Augustin laughed. “Absolutely. I’m rapidly using up the cash I brought with me.”

“Well, don’t worry about running out. I won’t let you starve. Showing us the Baranthrum site will warrant a reward regardless of what else pans out.” Bentrik drained his glass and stood up. “I don’t know about you, but this has been a long day for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Leonhard.”

As Augustin watched Bentrik head for the elevators, he wondered when would be a good time to tell Bentrik that Army Intelligence still believed that he was working for them. If he hadn’t pretended to want to ferret out any remaining SSA underground element on Marduk, the Army would never have allowed him to travel to Marduk. He would have to start thinking about writing a report soon to be sent back to Army HQ on Terra. They’d be expecting something from him and would get suspicious if they didn’t hear anything. The tricky part would be to get operations on Koshchei going without triggering intervention on the Army and Navy’s part. He finished off his drink, and as he headed for his room, he hoped the drink would help him get to sleep.

Chapter Five

Minister-General Murchison frowned as the tone announcing an incoming call interrupted his reading of a particularly engrossing novel.

“Accept call, audio only,” he said. “Who’s calling?”

“Sorry to bother you, Minister-General. It’s George Harmon at the Land Claims Registry Office. You told me you wanted to be notified if certain claims were made?”

Murchison put the tablet he’d been ready down and considered his response carefully. This was the call he’d been afraid of.

“Ah, yes, George, I do remember that conversation.”

“Yes, well, the LCRO has just received two land claims, and both of them are on the list that you wanted us to watch out for. One of them is for a site over on Barathrum, and the other is the site in the Badlands. The claims were made on behalf of The Last Chance Salvage Company. I did some checking before calling you. That company was granted its charter earlier today. The majority stockholder is Klem Zareff, a melon plantation owner from Litchfield. There are three Directors on the Board. None of the three are listed as Poictesme citizens.”

“I see. Your thoroughness is appreciated, George. Do you happen to have the names of the Directors?”

“Yes, Sir. The Board Chair is—.”

“Tell you what, George. Send me all the information you’ve gathered about this. Your bank account will be getting a deposit later today that I think you’ll like. Keep up the good work, George.”

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll continue to keep an—” Murchison cut the connection and immediately ordered his computer to contact the woman who was the senior Army Intelligence officer on Poictesme.

“This better be important, Murchison,” said Major Hanna Vincennes when she answered the call.

“I’m just following your orders, Major. You thought this might happen, and it has. Land claims have been made on the Duplicate Force Command site and the Barathrum volcano complex. I just got the call from the Registry Office.” There was a pause before Vincennes responded.

“So, it looks like Colonel Augustin has made contact with the SSA underground. What else have you found out?”

Murchison felt a bit insulted by the Major’s tone, which did not show the proper respect for his position as the senior civilian official representing the Federation’s interests on Poictesme.

“My contact at the Registry Office is sending me everything he’s been able to find out. But I can tell you now that the company making the claims was granted its charter earlier today, and the majority shareholder is a melon plantation owner from Litchfield.”

“Hm. He’s obviously fronting for off-planet interests. When you get that info, send a copy to me. Naturally, I’ll expect you to keep this information to yourself. We’ve been expecting something like this to happen and we’re prepared for it. This is just the tip of the iceberg of something that could be potentially huge, which means it better not be screwed up because of some civilian who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I’m not exaggerating when I say that your career depends on keeping quiet. Is that clear?”

“That’s clear, Major. And when this operation is over, and I write my report to my superiors, I’ll make sure they know how little respect Army Intelligence officers have for the Federation Liaison Office of Interplanetary Affairs and its staff.” To his surprise, Vincennes laughed.

“Well, you go right ahead and write that report, Minister-General Murchison. But you’ll forgive me if I don’t hold my breath while I wait for any reprimands.” She hung up before he could think of an appropriate reply.

Murchison spent the next five minutes fuming over his bruised ego before returning his attention to his book.

It was two days later when the construction people broke through the vitrified rock blocking the side tunnel entrance. Bentrik, Augustin, and Zareff were there when they finally cleared away the last of the rock debris. To Bentrik’s surprise, Zareff had made it clear that he wanted to be an active part of the project and be present when they gained access. Augustin led the way past dozens of contra-gravity military vehicles parked along one side of the entrance tunnel. As a former navy officer, the gleaming tanks with their collapsium armor and laser cannon held no interest for him, but he could hear Zareff’s voice rise in excitement. He had commanded an infantry regiment during the war, and these vehicles would have reminded him of the SSA equivalents.

It took 15 minutes using flashlights to make their way through the maze of corridors to the upper levels where the command staff offices were. They finally came to a large, tastefully decorated office.

“This was General Foxx Travis’s office,” said Augustin. “After we made our last toast, we threw our glasses against that wall.” Bentrik noticed that the glass shards were still on the floor.

“I guess this’ll be your office now, Leonhard. Can you show us Merlin now?”

Augustin led the three of them back to the elevator, which took them up to the top level. Bentrik was surprised at how ordinary the computer equipment in the room looked. “This is Merlin?”

Augustin laughed. “These are the computer interfaces that operate Merlin. Merlin’s actual components are built within the walls of this entire complex.” He stepped over to one of the consoles and was about to touch a control when the ceiling lights came on.

“Looks like the engineers figured out how to turn the power back on,” said Bentrik.

Augustin nodded and pushed a green button, which seemed to activate the console. A swirling pattern of colors appeared on the console’s screen. “Run level one system diagnostic,” said Augustin. As Bentrik and Zareff came over to watch, they noticed that all the other consoles had turned themselves on as well. “Merlin can be voice-activated, although specific model projections require specific programmed instructions,” said Augustin. The swirling colors changed to a monochrome black with a text message across the top.

[System operating within normal parameters.]

“Display last projection criteria,” said Augustin.

[DETERMINE OPTIMAL POLITICAL AND ECONOMIC TRENDS THAT WOULD PREVENT PROJECTED DECLINE OVER THE NEXT 500 YEARS]

Augustin pointed to the screen. That last projection task was the one I ordered just before General Travis and the rest of us took our oath of silence and walked away. Do you still have the printout I gave you?” he asked Bentrik. Bentrik reached into his jacket’s inner pocket and took out the folded printout.

“Rerun last projection under the same criteria,” said Augustin. Turning to Bentrik and Zareff, he said, “This will take a few minutes. Merlin is making trillions of calculations. How’s it feel to be standing in the room where the SSA was defeated, Colonel Zareff?”

Zareff looked around him. “I know the war’s over and that we’re trying to use these machines to resurrect the SSA, but I still feel the urge to smash these machines because they destroyed the dream I sacrificed my family for.”

Augustin nodded. “Nothing can bring your family back to life, but Merlin can prevent a lot of other families from dying before their time.”

“Projection completed,” said an electronic voice.

“Print summary. Save output to temporary buffer,” said Augustin. He stepped over to a console where a printout was emerging. He took the printout and handed it to Bentrik without looking at it. “Is this the same as the one I gave you, Aren?”

Bentrik looked at both for a few seconds and nodded. “The same, yes. Okay, Leonhard, I’m convinced. This really is the Merlin supercomputer, and you’ve just earned that upfront payment you’ve been waiting for.” He handed both printouts to Zareff, who read them with a frown on his face.” Can it tell us if anything that’s happened since the war ended has changed the projection?”

“It can, but it’ll have to be updated with the events across the entire Federation over the last fifteen years, and that’s something that will take time and that I’ll need help with.”

“The Company will put out a call for people with the necessary skills as soon as you tell Elon what those skills are,” said Bentrik. Before he could say anything more, Augustin interjected.

“I want to set up a new project file for what we’re trying to achieve. What’s a good project name?”

Bentrik thought for a  few seconds. “Phoenix.”

“Okay. Set up new project. Project name is Phoenix. Move output data from temporary buffer to Project Phoenix.”

“Project Phoenix has been created. Data saved to Project Phoenix,” said Merlin.

Zareff handed both printouts back to Bentrik. “Computers should not talk. When I hear a computer talk, it makes me wonder if that machine has a soulless intelligence that could turn on us.”

“Not possible with Merlin, Colonel. You’re not the only one who’s concerned about that possibility. Merlin’s components are hardwired to prevent any deviation from external programming or external voice commands. And as I understand it, before this version was manufactured and shipped here, a prototype was built and tested to see if it developed any urge for independent action. None was detected. General Travis even went so far as to order that Merlin was not to be given direct control of any weapon system or craft that could deploy atomic or nuclear warheads. The defensive missile batteries that used to be deployed around this complex and were under Merlin’s direct control all had conventional chemical or kinetic warheads.”

“Which could still kill you if the damn machine goes berserk,” muttered Zareff. Bentrik and Augustin both laughed. They could tell from Zareff’s expression that he found his remarks amusing too but was trying hard not to show it.

“I’m not worried about Merlin going berserk,” said Bentrik as he turned back to Augustin. “It occurs to me that we should move our people out of that hotel and into quarters here. I assume that senior staff had quarters that reflected their rank?”

“They do, and I’ll show you where they’re located,” said Augustin. Before leaving, he shut down the Merlin console.

When Augustin showed Bentrik the spacious quarters used by General Travis, Bentrik announced that he would use those quarters himself from now on.

“Well, in that case, I may as well move back into the quarters I was using during the war,” said Augustin.

“And what about you, Colonel,” asked Bentrik. “If you wanted to take an active role in this project, you could move into one of these quarters.”

Zareff seemed a bit surprised by the idea. “What would the project need a melon plantation owner for?”

“You have military training and experience in leading men. The Company is going to have to hire security people. That’s what they’ll be called, but because they’ll be equipped with Army uniforms and gear, they’ll really be military police. How would you like to be Chief of Company Police?” asked Bentrik.

“I don’t know. What about my plantation?”

“Have you got a foreman looking after the day-to-day things now?” asked Bentrik.

“Yes, I suppose I could let him run the place with occasional check-ins from me. Litchfield is too far to commute back and forth by aircar. Although if I had something faster, like that needle-nosed recon job we passed on our way here, I could stay at my home when I’m not needed here. Maybe have a smaller place here to use as both an office and a place to sleep every now and then if I need it. What would my salary be as Chief of Company Police, Mister Bentrik?”

“What level would you like to get, Colonel, ah, Chief?”

“How’s a hundred thousand a year sound?”

“It sounds reasonable, and yes, you can use that recon craft to commute back and forth. What else should I see while we’re here, Leonhard?” Augustin spent the next two hours showing Bentrik and Zareff the extent of the complex. Both men were suitably impressed by the time the tour was over. The engineers and construction people were also quite impressed. Bentrik ordered some of the men to stay at the complex to prevent unauthorized intruders from attempting to loot equipment or weapons.

Everyone else got back on the ship, which took them back to Storisende, where they prepared to move out of the hotel. Bentrik had decided on the way back that the Company should have an office in Storisende to handle financial and logistical issues. That would be Borzov’s task, and he was instructed to find office space as well as an apartment to lease. Before checking out of the hotel, Bentrik went to the bank with Augustin and transferred half a million sols to his personal account. It occurred to Augustin that if he was going to spend all his time at the Duplicate Force Command complex, he wasn’t going to be able to spend any of that money. He made up his mind to insist to Bentrik that he needed at least one day off every seven days and if Bentrik refused, he was prepared to quit. To his surprise, Bentrik agreed immediately. Within 24 hours, all the Marduk personnel, except for the ship’s crew, had moved into the complex. One of Bentrik’s people had flown the recon craft to Litchfield and had then been given a ride back to Storisende by Zareff.

Augustin’s first task with Merlin was to precisely locate all the other military sites on Poictesme and ask Merlin what the quickest way was to visit all of those sites. With the hunt for trained computer assistants going on, Augustin and Bentrik took the ship for a quick visit to each site. That took a week. Most of the sites could not be detected visually from the air, but enough sites showed signs of excavations that Bentrik was convinced that Augustin and Merlin were telling the truth about them. He transferred ownership of the bonds to Augustin. The list of site locations also included lists of contents. The printout of those contents went on for a hundred pages. The volume of material, including weapons, ammo, medical supplies, vehicles, clothing, field rations, etc., was staggering. With land claims now filed for all the sites on Poictesme, it was time to see what was on Koshchei. Bentrik’s chief engineer came along as the freighter took off for the micro-jump to Koshchei. Merlin had told them exactly what was on Koshchei and where to find it. The lack of atmosphere would make moving across the planet’s surface easier. There were a total of 21 sites to fly over. Most were mines that had adjacent smelters. Five sites were manufacturing and assembly complexes that included shipbuilding, and one site, the Sickle Mountain Observatory, was also where over 400 smaller, interplanetary ships had been stored. They weren’t capable of interstellar travel and had been used to ferry personnel and equipment between planets in the Gartner Tri-system. Some were designed to carry troops and armored vehicles from larger hyper-freighters down to the surface of hostile planets. Those ships were armored with collapsium armor and had limited cannon and missile capabilities.

By the time the freighter had finished flying over and photographing all the sites, Bentrik’s mind was agog with the possibilities. From the Federation’s point of view, leaving all this industrial and military equipment behind was taking a hell of a risk that a potential aggressor would scoop it up and use it against them. How could the Federation be so careless? It then occurred to him that maybe they hadn’t. If the equipment and the computers needed to operate all those sites had been removed or disabled, then it would be difficult to get everything operating again. And if someone on Poictesme was keeping an eye out for salvage claims on Koshchei sites, then any attempt to re-activate the mines, smelters, factories, and shipyards could draw unwanted attention from the Federation Army and Navy.

It was the uranium mine on Koshchei that confirmed Bentrik’s suspicion that the Federation hadn’t figuratively just walked away. The surface buildings at the mine site, including the smelter and enrichment facility, had been completely destroyed. That prompted Bentrik to want to check another site. The titanium mine that happened to be near the uranium site still had intact buildings. The Captain was ordered to land near what looked like the site’s administrative building. With the ship resting on the surface, the chief engineer put on a spacesuit and walked over to the building to see what he could learn. He came back an hour later with the bad news.

“They left the operating computers behind, but when they turned off the life support, the freezing temperatures damaged the computer components. I did find one that was still operable, but all of its software had been deleted. We’d have to replace all the damaged computers and load them with software that hopefully can be bought off the shelf. If we have to develop the software from scratch, it’ll take years to get these sites working again, Sir.”

Bentrik thanked him and ordered the Captain to head back to Poictesme. It was on the way back while Bentrik was working on the report that the ship would take back to Marduk when Augustin dropped by his cabin.

“I’m kind of busy writing my report, Leonhard,” said Bentrik.

“I guessed that that’s what you were doing. I have an idea that you might like to hear before you finish that report.”

“Okay, come on in then.” When both of them were seated, Bentrik gestured and said, “What’s the idea?”

Augustin took a few seconds to organize his thoughts. He had to be careful about what he said in order not to give away too much or generate suspicions.

“The precautions that the Federation took on Koshchei to prevent or at least delay anyone doing what you want to do, suggests to me that they may have taken additional precautions on Poictesme.”

“You mean like keeping an eye out for Koshchei land claims?” asked Bentrik.

“Exactly. That’s what I would set up if I was responsible for securing those facilities. That means that word would have to be sent back to Terra, which is a six-month trip, and then if the Navy is ordered to send warships back here, that will take another five months or longer. When they get here, they might order your company to shut down operations on Koshchei. Do you think you could get some ships built before they arrive back here?”

Bentrik shook his head. “No. I don’t see a chance of that happening after what we saw today. I suspect it might take eighteen months to two years just to get everything up and running again.”

“I agree. So, here’s what I’m thinking. The war’s been over for almost sixteen years now. The Federation Navy has some ships that are probably ready to be retired due to age and obsolescence. If I remember correctly, prior to the war, the Navy bought new ships from Terra-based shipyards at considerable expense. We know that the Navy’s budget has been declining every year since the war. They can’t afford to buy new ships if the price has to cover the cost of materials and labor. But if the infrastructure on Koshchei was back in operation, the cost of materials would effectively be zero, and the labor cost would be relatively small. So, if your company were to claim all those sites and then send a delegation to Terra with an offer to sell brand new ships to the Navy for a price that covers labor only along with a modest profit, the Navy might not only be willing to let your company operate those sites, it might also be able to arrange for the computers and software to get everything running again.”

Bentrik laughed. “Whose side are you on, Leonhard? We’re trying to re-arm the SSA Navy, not the Federation’s.”

Augustin smiled. “I know it might seem that this idea is helping the wrong side, but there are considerations that you’re overlooking. There’s nothing that says the Koshchei shipyards can’t be working on building other ships at the same time as the Fed navy ships. In addition, if your company builds ships for the Fed navy, you’ll know exactly how they were built, their strengths and weaknesses, what weapons and detection systems they have, and perhaps it might be possible to incorporate software traps that disable weapons or power if SSA warships were to send the right coded trigger message. Or it could be something as simple as adding less collapsed-matter armor than the specifications call for, thereby making those ships more vulnerable. And finally, if the Fed Navy is satisfied buying cruisers, then the Koshchei shipyards can also build what look like very large freighters that can later be modified as battleships.”

Or motherships that carry parasite craft like those 400 interplanetary ships sitting on Koshchei, thought Bentrik.

“I’m glad you bought those considerations to my attention. I’ll give your idea serious consideration. And while I always enjoy our chats, I’m going to have to cut this one short because I want to get this report done by the time we set back down at Storisende.”

With Augustin gone, Bentrik returned his attention to the report. Now that he’d seen the stockpile of armed interplanetary craft, building motherships instead of battleships seemed like a better conceptual approach. The armed and armored craft on Koshchei could be used to deploy tanks and infantry. He wondered how difficult it would be to modify the unarmed craft to carry anti-ship missiles. It turned out to be a long report.

Chapter Six

Federation Army HQ, Canberra, Australia, Day 144 of 870 A.E.

General Mikhel Curtis, Chief of Army Intelligence, walked into the conference room and nodded to Admiral Chen Lee, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

“Sorry I’m late, Admiral. I was just getting the latest update from M2.”

Lee looked at Curtis with an annoyed expression. “I think you Intel people rely on that machine way too much. Have a seat, General. I’d like to get this meeting started.” When Curtis was settled, Lee continued. “As some of you already know, Operation Dropkick has taken an interesting turn. Why don’t you bring all of us up to date on the latest development, General Curtis?”

“Certainly, Admiral. Our agent, Colonel Augustin, has made contact with Aren Bentrik, a former SSA navy captain, who is now running his own, very well-funded interstellar shipping company. M2 has calculated that the person running a new shipping company based on Marduk is highly likely to be involved with clandestine efforts to resurrect the SSA. The latest message from Augustin is that he still doesn’t know if Bentrik is part of any such group. Bentrik seems to be more interested in the profit potential of using the Merlin unit on Poictesme in conjunction with the shipbuilding facilities on Koshchei than in potential military applications. The same ship that brought Augustin’s report also carried a formal offer from the company that Bentrik set up to make salvage claims on Poictesme and Koshchei. That offer is to sell the Navy, newly-constructed warships for very low prices if the Federation helps it re-activate the Koshchei facilities. I’ve just checked this offer with M2. It’s calculated a thirty-four percent chance that this is just a ruse to enable a covert SSA program to build warships for their use more quickly. That probability of one chance in three makes me nervous. Once we help them get shipbuilding started again, we might lose track of what they build and at some point find ourselves looking at a fleet of SSA battleships.”

Lee turned to Admiral Angelo Khegan, Chief of the Navy. “What’s the Navy’s opinion on this offer, Admiral?”

Khegan gave Lee a knowing look. Lee already knew what the Navy’s opinion was. As the highest-ranking naval officer, he was the one who had decided what that opinion should be.

“I’ve run this offer past our planning people. For the benefit of our Army colleagues, I’ll just briefly go over some background first. When the war broke out, the Navy quickly realized that it had the wrong ships. Our 1000 ft. cruisers were designed for anti-smuggling and enforcement operations. They were completely unsuited for combat against an enemy fleet of warships. The ships that Koshchei eventually built for us were the more capable 1200 ft. heavy cruisers and the 1500 ft. battlecruisers that we used to defeat the SSA Navy. When the war ended, the decision was made to decommission all of those warships due to the fact that they were more expensive to operate due to their larger crews and to the fact that armored warships are too slow to be effective against fast smugglers. After demobilization, the Navy was pretty much back to its pre-war configuration. Since we didn’t bother building any new pre-war type cruisers during the war, we now have an aging fleet that breaks down more and more frequently and costs more and more to maintain. The Federation Council has repeatedly rejected our requests for more money for new ships. They don’t seem to understand why we need new ships when we have over a couple of hundred warships left over from the war. I can tell all of you from personal experience that it’s damn difficult for a heavier, less agile warship to catch a fast smuggler. The volume of off-planet narcotics is increasing. The organizations that traffic in those things have the financial ability to build very fast ships. This offer will allow us to acquire new, fast light cruisers for a cost that’s less than the annual cost of maintaining a pre-war ship of comparable size. The Navy needs these new ships. We can keep an eye on what goes on at Koshchei. If this Bentrik tries to build warships for an SSA insurgency, we’ll detect it and stop it.”

Curtis looked to his boss, General of the Army, Sam Mahan, for help. Mahan wanted to say something in support of Curtis’ concerns but couldn’t think of a good counterargument to Khegan’s explanation. “How exactly would the Navy keep tabs on what Koshchei is building? he asked.

“The easiest and most effective way would be to station Navy technical staff on Koshchei to watch everything they do,” said Khegan.

Mahan shifted his gaze back to Curtis. “Would that address your concerns, General?”

Curtis took his time answering. He really didn’t want to admit that Khegan’s suggestion would probably be enough but couldn’t think of a reason to reject it. “If your people not only watch everything that goes on there but also inspect all ships when they’re completed before they leave, then I don’t see how they could get around those precautions.”

“Good!” said Lee. “In that case, I’ll recommend to our civilian masters that Army technical personnel be transported to Koshchei to re-activate those facilities, along with Navy people who will stay to keep an eye on things. Now that we’ve dealt with that issue let’s move on to the next item on the agenda.”

It was later that day when Curtis returned to the highly secure section of the HQ complex where the M2 super-computer was located. He had new questions to ask the machine. It was going to be another long day.

Marduk, Day 72 of 871 A.E.

Bentrik arrived at his shipping company office and saw that a message from Col. Zareff had arrived overnight. As he settled down at his desk with a cup of coffee and a protein bar, he told his Avatar to display the message on the main screen.

To: CEO Aren Bentrik

From: Klem Zareff

Date: Day 38, 871

Subject: Monthly report on Last Chance Salvage Company activities

A lot has been accomplished in the last 30 days. All mining, refining, manufacturing, and shipbuilding facilities on Koshchei are now online and operating. Work has begun on the first 3,000-foot diameter hyper-freighter. The estimated time to completion is 28 weeks. The Barathrum shipyard complex is making progress on tooling up to manufacture the components for the improved FTL drive that will be retrofitted to the Koshchei hyper-freighters. The navy people on Koshchei have apparently accepted our explanation that before any new ship can be delivered to either your shipping company or to the Navy on Terra, it has to be sent to the Barathrum complex to be loaded with consumables. While our new freighters are being loaded with supplies, their standard FTL drives will be upgraded to the new version. Having the standard design reconfigured for easy modification was a brilliant idea. Naturally, any cruiser built for the navy will not get the FTL upgrade. As soon as the Navy delivers the design schematics for their new light cruiser, work can begin on building them.

The volume of recovered and resellable material from the other salvage sites is once again on the increase. Putting Rodney Maxwell in charge of that side of the Company’s operations proved to be the key to solving the logistical problems. Most of the hospital supplies have been sold now. Rodney even managed to find off-planet buyers for the surplus construction equipment and for some of the specialized military equipment. It seems that the hyper-sonic one-man recon craft is particularly popular among the wealthy on several planets. I can understand why. I love mine. Finding places to store the contra-gravity tanks and armored personnel carriers is still a problem since we’ve recovered so many of them. On the other hand, their armor makes them impervious to the weather, so keeping them out in the open will not degrade their operability. The challenge is keeping those temporary storage depots secure from fools who think stealing a tank armed with a laser cannon is a good idea. I understand that once the new hyper-freighters go into operation, they can be used to transport these vehicles to Site B.

VP Augustin and his team have lots of free time on their hands now that Merlin has upgraded the detailed planning timeline. With the entire rock cover of the Duplicate Force Command complex removed, we can finally begin work on stripping the complex of its collapsium armor in order to begin dismantling Merlin’s components for re-assembly at Site B. Augustin is using his free time to spend some of his wealth. I know that he’s been working diligently on behalf of the Phoenix organization, but I still don’t completely trust him.

I’ve attached the usual list of people and materials that we still need to import to Poictesme. The list is getting smaller, and it mainly consists of people now more than material. Sending more currency would help too. Cash flow from operations is managing to stay ahead of Company overhead costs, but if we keep adding more people to Koshchei operations, those overhead costs will keep climbing too. And it’ll be a year at the earliest before we see any of the money from the Navy for delivery of their new ships.

I could also use another assistant. I’m working 12 to 14 hours a day, and my plantation is suffering as a result. Yes, I know, it’s just a hobby now that I have a more secure source of income, but I hate to see the operation slowly run down from neglect. The foreman I had got lured away to another plantation, and I haven’t had the time to find his replacement. I’d like your approval to hire that assistant. The Phoenix will Rise Again!

Klem Zareff

“Record a message to be sent to Klem Zareff on Poictesme,” said Bentrik to his Avatar. “Klem, you have the approval to hire an assistant. We’ll find you the people you need as quickly as we can. More sols will accompany this message. Augustin is being watched carefully, but I think your suspicions are unfounded. Keep up the good work. Aren. Message ends. I want to review the latest report from Site B again on the main screen.”

The report from Zareff was replaced by a longer report, which Bentrik read again to make sure he hadn’t missed anything the first time around. The project to make Site B capable of building armed parasite craft that the 3,000-foot hyper-freighter/motherships would carry into battle was progressing. The infrastructure on the metal-rich moon was about to begin being constructed. Support facilities in the only city on the planet were almost complete.

“What is the latest balance of available reserve funds?” asked Bentrik.

“One point two billion sols,” said the Avatar’s electronic voice.

Bentrik sighed. That was less than what he thought it would be. Site B would need at least one billion all by itself to finish building the infrastructure. The operation in the Gartner Tri-system would continue to need cash infusions until the sale of cruisers to the navy started generating income. There was only one solution to this problem. Preparations at Site B had to be slowed down.

“Record this memo to Phoenix One, copy to Phoenix Three, Four, and Five. I’m concerned about a possible cash crunch in eight to twelve months. If we slow down work at Site B, we can mitigate the severity of this problem. I’d like to add this recommendation to the agenda for the next meeting. Phoenix Two. End of memo. Get that off to the recipients immediately. Hold all incoming calls for the next hour.”

Bentrik leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee. He liked to let the details go and focus on the big picture every now and then. The Organization was running up against the limits of its human resources faster than its financial resources. Both the Gartner Tri-system and Site B needed more skilled people, and the nature of the work required that they be people who knew about Phoenix and its ultimate objective and supported it. But every time they brought someone new into the Organization, they rolled the dice as far as the risk of recruiting a double agent from Federation Army or Navy Intelligence. That’s why we have to get Merlin moved to Site B. The entire star system is under our control, and any agent who manages to get sent there won’t be able to send messages back to the Federation. If we have Merlin there, we can still move forward even if the Federation shuts down Koshchei. He decided that another message to Augustin urging him to speed up the process of moving Merlin was needed.

Rodney Maxwell stood on top of a butte that was relatively close to the mesa where Duplicate Force Command was buried and looked at the site through a pair of electronic binoculars. The activity on the mesa was puzzling. Why would The Last Chance Salvage Company bother spending all that money to remove the rocky overburden in order to gain access to the collapsium-armor top of the command complex? His queries to Klem Zareff had been brushed off with vague explanations of making sure the armor was still intact, which made no sense. Rodney knew he couldn’t stay here long. He was needed at various other salvage sites to make sure work there was continuing as planned. But he was not allowed on the Duplicate Force Command site or at the Barathrum shipyard complex. This butte was as close as he could get, and the secrecy surrounding the activity at the command site was starting to bother him. He looked up and noticed a tiny dot moving slowly across the sky. A check with the binoculars revealed the dot to be an aircar. Someone was circling the command site in order to get a good look at it. Rodney wondered who that someone might be.

Major Vincennes used her binoculars to zoom in on the mesa work site. It looked like the work crews were just about ready to begin cutting and removing sections of the armor from the top of the complex. A collapsium-cutter had been brought to Poictesme from Koshchei. The cosmic rays it generated abraded the collapsed neutrons in the armor, gradually wearing them away in a narrow cut much like a buzz-saw would cut wood. It seemed Augustin was right when his message told her that the plan was to disassemble Merlin and move it to Marduk for re-assembly. From the perspective of the SSA Underground, that made perfect sense, although not from the perspective of Bentrik’s shipping company if all he was interested in was future profits. His company’s fleet of medium-sized hyper-freighters would need to make multiple trips each to carry all of Merlin’s components. On the other hand, A Bentrik Interstellar Shipping hyper-freighter seemed to be arriving every month now. They always bought lots of melon brandy and Poictesme tobacco to take back to Marduk, but Vincennes was beginning to wonder how much more that market could absorb. If they intended to move Merlin components to Marduk, then they would have to stop buying brandy and tobacco in order to maximize the volume of components carried.

She was about to shift her focus to the aircar’s autopilot to instruct it to return to Storisende when she spotted another aircar parked on a butte less than a mile from the mesa. The binoculars showed her a zoomed-in image of a person standing near the aircar. She couldn’t be sure, but it was possible that person was using binoculars to look at her aircar. She wondered who that person was and made up her mind to find out.

Forty-six hours later:

Rodney Maxwell went to the front door to answer the doorbell, and when he opened it, he saw a tall, blonde-haired woman wearing a well-tailored business suit.

“Rod Maxwell?” she asked before he had a chance to say anything.

“Yes, and you are?”

“Major Hanna Vincennes, Federation Army Intelligence.” She showed him her ID. “Is there someplace we can talk privately?”

“We can talk in my study.”

“Fine, as long as it’s just you and me. Your wife and son should not be listening in to our conversation.”

“Why not?” asked Rod.

“Because what they might hear will probably upset them. Any more questions while I stand out here in the open?”

Rod got over his surprise at that answer quickly. He gestured for her to come in and led the way to his study. His wife and their three-week-old son, Conn, were upstairs. Once inside the study, he closed the door. Vincennes was already sitting in the only chair that faced his desk. He sat down behind the desk and tried not to think about how cluttered the desk and the room might look to a Major from Army Intelligence. Vincennes didn’t waste any time.

“What do you know about what the Last Chance Salvage Company is doing at the Duplicate Force Command site?”

“Not that much, actually. I’m not on the list of people authorized to visit or work there. I’ve been told that the company wants to make sure the collapsium armor around the complex is still intact.”

“That’s not what they’re doing,” said Vincennes. “They intend to tear down the entire complex in order to get access to the Merlin computer components that are built into the walls.”

Rod’s eyes opened wide. “Merlin? Do you mean to tell me that the Merlin super-computer really exists? I thought it was just a rumor put out during the war to boost morale.”

“Oh, it exists alright. Army Intelligence has reason to suspect that the driving force behind The Last Chance Salvage Company is a covert organization whose aim is the resurrection of the System States Alliance. The head of the operation appears to be Aren Bentrik, CEO and majority stockholder of Bentrik Interstellar Shipping, which is based on Marduk.”

Rod shook his head. “No, Klem Zareff is the majority stockholder of LCS, not Bentrik.”

Vincennes gave him a sly smile. “Zareff is the majority holder of the voting shares. There are a lot more non-voting shares, and Bentrik owns those. He supplied the capital and manpower. Your friend Klem is a convenient frontman and Bentrik ally.”

Rod wanted to tell her that she was wrong about Klem. He and Klem had known each other for over five years, and Rod thought about him the way everyone else did, as a harmless eccentric melon farmer whose rants about the injustice of the defeat of the System States Alliance were just the amusing antics of a fool. It then occurred to Rod that Klem had stopped ranting about the war over the last year or so.

“Okay, so let’s say that you’re right about Klem and about the salvage company. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to get into the company computers and find out all you can about where they intend to re-assemble Merlin and anything else you can find about their future plans for Poictesme and for Koshchei. When you have something, you can reach me at this number.” She handed him a data chip.

He looked at it for a few seconds before responding. “If your suspicions about a covert rebel operation being behind all this are true, then I’d be taking a huge risk in snooping around. My wife and newborn son could be at risk too. Why should I take that chance? I’m not a trained intelligence operative. You are.”

“I can’t get anywhere near the company offices here in Storisende or the Duplicate Force Command site without being spotted. If these people are any good, they’ll have identified me as the local Army Intelligence officer by now. If I’m caught, they’ll probably kill me, and then there won’t be anyone left on Poictesme to notify Army Intelligence on Terra. But if you do the snooping and get what you find to me, I can make sure it gets to my superiors on Terra.”

“How convenient for you. What happens to my wife and son if I get killed?”

Vincennes sighed. “That’s a very selfish attitude, Maxwell. If I’m right, then you’re working for a group that wants to start a new war. A war that could easily start here on Poictesme or spread to here. How safe will your wife and son be then? I would have thought that your loyalty to the Federation would convince you to do the right thing, but it seems I was wrong.” She waited to see if Maxwell changed his mind, but when it was obvious that he hadn’t, she stood up.

“I hope your son never asks you what you did to prevent the second System States Alliance war. If you change your mind, you know how to reach me.” Rod stood in the open doorway and watched as she got into her aircar and flew away.

It was three days later when he made his move. After making sure that all Company staff had left for the day, Rod convinced the robot janitor that he had lost his key to the office and let him in. The computers were typical office machines that he had used enough to know how to operate. He quickly found Klem’s files and found the files containing incoming and outgoing correspondence between Klem and Bentrik. So, that part of Major Vincennes’ story, at least, was true. After copying all those files to a data chip, he shut down the computers and let himself out.

It was later that evening when Zareff got a call from Borzov. He made sure the scrambler was working before talking.

“Guess who snuck back into our Storisende offices and copied a batch of files?” asked Borzov.

Zareff thought for a moment. He had a hunch that it was Rod Maxwell and said so.

“Damn right, it was Maxwell. He found the files that we wanted to be found, and you can bet that Major Vincennes will have them within twenty-four hours. It’s a good thing we kept Maxwell’s house under observation. Vincennes got sloppy going there. She should have arranged to meet him somewhere else.”

“She thinks she’s dealing with a bunch of amateurs,” said Zareff. “Now she’ll send those bogus files to her superiors, and they’ll think Bentrik really is just trying to make himself the richest man on Marduk. The Major is going to be disappointed that the files don’t point to any kind of interstellar conspiracy.”

“If her superiors on Terra are convinced of that too, they’re less likely to try to infiltrate agents into our operations either here or site B. Are you going to be able to interact normally with Maxwell now that you know what he’s done?”

Zareff snorted. “Of course I will. I still like the man, and I’m surprised that he took the risk of getting caught. Rodney’s a smart man and clearly a courageous man too. I hope the Organization isn’t going to do anything to him.”

“No, we’re not that dumb, Klem. Eliminating him would only draw unwanted attention from local and Fed authorities. No, he’s safe. After all, he’s just done us a huge favor. I wonder how he’d feel if he knew he had just helped the other side?”

“I hope he never finds out.”

“I don’t care if he does or not as long as he doesn’t get in our way. If he’s as smart as you think he is, he’ll retire from the industrial espionage game while he’s ahead.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“No, that’s it.” The click told Zareff that Borzov had hung up.

Maxwell met with Vincennes in an open field on the outskirts of the city the next day. He handed her the data chip.

“Did you look at what’s on this?” she asked.

Maxwell nodded. “Lots of back and forth about ambitious plans that Bentrik has for making himself very rich and powerful on Marduk, by using Merlin to outguess his business rivals. The plan is to re-assemble Merlin in a new warehouse complex that’s been built near the spaceport. Bentrik can’t wait for the big hyper-freighters to be finished on Koshchei. He thinks they’ll be so profitable that even the big Terra-based shipping companies like TBMS will be unable to compete. Not a single word about a clandestine organization or plans for a new war. You Intel people are barking up the wrong tree.”

Vincennes shook her head. “I was certain there’d be something about that. Maybe you missed it. Go back and look again.”

“Not on your life. I got away with breaking the law once, and I’m not going to tempt fate again. And don’t even try to make me feel guilty again about saying no. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve done my duty as a loyal Federation citizen. Goodbye, Major. You and I won’t be meeting like this again.”

Chapter Seven

Koshchei shipyard complex #3, Day 249 of 871 A.E.

Shipyard Complex #3 Manager, Akira Toyoda, waited patiently inside the airlock of the first light cruiser to be completed. The team of Federation Navy Inspectors was huddled in the corridor leading from the airlock to the central elevator as they compared notes of their inspection of the ship in preparation for officially accepting her from the Company. Toyoda wasn’t worried. His engineers had taken extra effort to make sure this first warship was constructed exactly as the specifications required. When the navy people appeared to have finished talking, their leader, Captain Johansen, came over to Toyoda with his team following behind.

“Well, Captain, does this ship meet your specifications?”

Johansen gave Toyoda an annoyed look. “We haven’t found anything wrong if that’s what you mean.”

Toyoda resisted the urge to smile. Johansen was clearly hoping to find something to complain about. “Can I take it then that you’re going to sign off on accepting this ship on behalf of the Navy?”

“Yes. I can’t justify not doing so. Have you got your copy of the form?”

Toyoda handed him the tablet containing the Company’s copy of the acceptance form. Johansen checked it to make sure it was correct, then recorded his thumbprint and held the device up to his right eye for a retinal scan. He then handed the tablet back along with his own tablet containing the Navy’s copy of the form. Toyoda followed the same procedure. Each copy would confirm that the other signing authority had acknowledged acceptance of the ship by the Navy.

“Very good, Captain. When can your first crew fly this ship to our supply center on Poictesme? We’d like to get started building the next one as quickly as possible.”

“They’re waiting on the transport that brought my team and me here. This ship will be out of here within six hours at the latest.”

“And did that transport also bring payment for the ship as well?” asked Toyoda.

“It did. I’ll have it brought over to your office. You’ll have to sign for it, of course.”

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll head back to my office now.” Toyoda put his spacesuit helmet back on and waited while the inspection team did the same. When they were ready, the airlock depressurized, and the outer door opened. Johansen and his team walked over to where the Navy transport was sitting while Toyoda headed for the small ground vehicle that would take him back to the admin building. On the way there, he thought about what this first delivery meant to the Company and to the Organization. The inspection team had failed to discover the extra circuitry that had been added to various computers that would cripple this ship if it found itself in combat with an SSA warship. That proved that they could do the same thing with all the other light cruisers the Navy would buy in the years ahead. The lump-sum payment of sols would also come in handy as well. As his vehicle passed complex #2 and #1, Toyoda looked at the hyper-freighters that were being built there. The first ship was nearly completed. Complex #3’s light cruiser was tiny compared to the freighter. With a diameter three times as big, the freighter hull’s internal volume was 27 times larger. That was why the cruiser was finished first, even though work on the freighter had begun first and months earlier. The ship was so massive and heavy that standard spaceport landing pads would crumble under its weight. That was why the freighter would remain in orbit while smaller interplanetary ships of 300 to 500 feet in diameter would carry cargo down to different spaceports at the same time and vice versa. Not only was that process more efficient in terms of quick delivery of cargo, but it also had the added benefit of not letting anyone get close enough to the larger ship’s hull to notice anything unusual. As his vehicle pulled up in front of the admin building’s airlock, Toyoda couldn’t help grinning at the prospect of having 21 million sols laid on his desk.

Zareff watched as the light cruiser slowly descended into the Barathrum shipyard complex. The Navy still hadn’t assigned a name to the ship. Officially it was designated rather unglamorously as FNPOLCS-001/01 for Federation Navy Purchase Order to Last Chance Salvage number 1 for ship number 1. The fading sunlight still cast enough light to make the collapsium armor twinkle until the ship dropped into the shadow of the volcano rim. As the cruiser gently touched down, the boarding ramp began to drop, and Zareff walked over to stand at its base. It didn’t take long for the skeleton crew to exit the ship. The senior officer was a woman. She stopped in front of Zareff and nodded to him.

“I’m Commander Evelyn Hastings.”

“I’m Klem Zareff, President of The Last Chance Salvage Company. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander. How was the trip from Koshchei?”

“Too long considering that we didn’t have any food, water, or anything else to drink other than what we brought aboard ourselves. But at least the plumbing works,” she said with a chuckle.

“Yes. Koshchei has no water of its own. We have to bring in all the water that’s needed there, but we made sure to fill the ship’s sanitation system with enough water to allow your skeleton crew to flush when needed. My people will begin loading supplies right now. You and your crew can either stay on the ship and watch, or you’re welcome to have a bite to eat and something to drink in our Cafeteria.”

“Thank you. I think we’ll take advantage of that offer. How long do you expect the loading to take?”

“I’m not exactly sure since this will be the first time we’ve done it. Probably not less than eight hours and not more than sixteen.”

“Understood. I expect that my crew and I will be returning to the ship after we’ve had a meal and something liquid. Where is the Cafeteria?”

Zareff laughed. “I’ll show you where it is. This way, Commander.”

Thirteen hours later, Zareff watched the ship lift off and climb into the sky until it was out of sight. The loading had gone without any problems, and Commander Hastings was pleased. Zareff nodded. One down, 88 more to go. He was anxious to get back to Storisende. The last shipment of equipment from the Duplicate Force Command site was scheduled to be loaded onto one of Bentrik’s medium hyper-freighters tomorrow, and Zareff wanted to be there to make sure there were no problems with the loading. He turned to Mohamed Carsten, the man in charge of the Barathrum volcano complex.

“Glad that’s done. Your people did well for the first time loading a ship. Will you be ready when the Spirit of Malverton arrives in about ten days' time?”

“We’ll be ready for her, Boss.”

“Excellent. I have to get back to Storisende. So long, Mohamed.”

Thirty minutes later, one of the 300-foot interplanetary ships was carrying Zareff on a fast sub-orbital hop to the other side of Poictesme.

Eleven days later:

Vincennes felt her aircar bank to the left a bit as it began its slow circle around the mesa where Duplicate Force Command used to be. Her binoculars confirmed that there was practically nothing left of it now except a deep hole that would probably become a small lake over time from rainfall. One of Bentrik’s hyper-freighters was next to the site with its cargo doors wide open. Contra-gravity craft were lifting containers up to the cargo hold, dropping them off to be secured by the cargo robots, then coming back down for more. Her superiors had finally gotten around to sending back their assessment of the situation after reviewing the files that Maxwell had copied. With the trail to the covert organization having apparently gone cold, there was nothing much for her to do once again. She hated being posted to this backwater planet and had hoped that breaking the SSA underground conspiracy wide open would have been her ticket back to Terra, but that hadn’t happened. With the salvage company operations winding down except for the work being done at the volcano shipyard, it seemed to her that if she was ever going to find the damn evidence of conspiracy, it had better be soon. She made up her mind to risk breaking into the company offices herself. She would do it tonight. With that decision made, she instructed the autopilot to head back to Storisende.

Zareff watched the aircar veer off to head in the direction of Storisende and raised his com unit. “This is the Colonel. She’s on her way back. You’re free to open fire. Out.” There was no reply, and he wasn’t expecting any. The two contra-gravity, laser-armed tanks stationed near the lake that Major Vincennes’ aircar would be flying over in a few minutes had orders to disable the aircar so that it plunged into the lake. With no inhabitants around for hundreds of miles, no one would see the crash, and her disappearance would become a mystery. As one Intelligence officer to another, I regret doing this to you, Major, but you’ve made yourself too big a pain in the ass, thought Zareff.

The laser beam that hit the aircar had enough power to burn through tank armor, but the aircar had no armor. The beam pierced it and came out the opposite side, vaporizing everything in its path, including the human body that happened to be in the way. The aircar’s weakened frame then gave way, breaking the vehicle into two pieces, which plunged into the lake where they immediately sank to the bottom.

Augustin took one last look around as the sun was about to set. The last of the containers holding Merlin components was being air-lifted to the freighter’s cargo hold. His own personal possessions that now filled two containers, plus the luxury aircar that Augustin had bought, were already on board the freighter. Augustin chuckled as he remembered how annoyed Klem had been when he learned how much cargo space would be taken up by Augustin’s personal items. But the freighter had enough room, and Augustin had threatened to take the matter up with Bentrik if Klem refused to allow the items to be loaded. Augustin heard Klem walk up to stand beside him.

“Well, that’s the last load of components. The only thing left to load now is the construction equipment and vehicles, and that should be finished in about half an hour. I presume that you’re glad to be going to Site B, Colonel?”

Augustin shrugged. “Mixed feelings, actually. Site B is a far better place for Merlin to be, but the very thing that makes it better, the isolated nature of the planet, makes it a less comfortable place for me. The colony there is so new that it barely qualifies as a city. Even Litchfield is bigger, for God’s sake. What’s the point of being rich if you can’t spend the money on anything?”

Zareff smiled, but he had little sympathy for Augustin. It wasn’t as if he was going to have to live in a log cabin. The new office tower at Site B also had spacious apartments for the Project’s senior staff. Augustin would be living more comfortably than Zareff himself would be. As for not being able to spend his millions, that would have to wait until the SSA had won the next war. After that, Augustin could move to Marduk or anywhere else for that matter and enjoy his wealth.

“You could always give some of it to me, you know.”

Augustin laughed. “I could, but where would be the fun in that? I guess I’d better get aboard and settled into my oh so luxurious relatively tiny cabin. Foxx Travis was pretty comfortable here for all those years, and I’ve gotten used to all that room. I hope we’ll see each other again, Colonel. The Phoenix will rise again!”

“The Phoenix will rise again,” repeated Zareff. Forty minutes later, he watched the freighter rise into the air on its way to Site B. He looked around at the now deserted crater that used to hold the Duplicate Force Command complex. A storm cloud looked like it was headed this way. Zareff climbed into his needle-nosed recon vehicle and programmed the autopilot for a flight to Litchfield along with a quick check of the lake where Major Vincennes’ aircar should have crashed. Those two tanks would need to be ordered back to the tank storage depot. Now that the only remaining operation on Poictesme was the Barathrum complex, he expected to be less busy for a few years until the Phoenix was ready to resume military operations against the Federation. Maybe he’d be able to spend more time on his melon plantation. That was a pleasing thought.

Chapter Eight

Federation Army HQ, Canberra, Australia, Day 89 of 872 A.E.

General Curtis entered Admiral Lee’s inner office. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff gestured for Curtis to sit down in the comfortable chair facing him as he finished the call he was making.

“Glad to hear that the new cruisers meet all our specifications, Angelo.”

“At least the ones we’ve gotten so far, Admiral. It looks like the Koshchei shipyard operation is living up to their obligations,” said Admiral Khegan.

“Very good. Keep me posted, Admiral.” Lee cut the connection and leaned back as he turned his attention to Curtis.

“I know that look, Mikhel. What’s the problem?”

Curtis sighed. “We haven’t received any messages from Colonel Augustin or from Major Vincennes for months now. That should not be the case. Maybe Augustin has nothing new to report, but Vincennes knows that she’s supposed to report on a regular basis, even if it’s only to say that there’s nothing to report. The fact that both of them appear to have dropped out of sight worries me. I’ve made arrangements to send a couple of my people to Poictesme to check on both of them, but it’ll be months before they even get there and more months before I hear back from them.”

Lee took his time responding. “I can understand why you’re concerned. Do you think we should be taking additional action now?”

“Yes. I’d like to send additional Intelligence personnel to Marduk to beef up my contingent there, along with orders to confirm where Merlin is being re-assembled, as well as locate and interview Augustin if he’s on Marduk,” said Curtis.

“Hm. That seems like a reasonable action to take. I hope the Underground hasn’t taken Colonel Augustin off the board. They might have decided that he’s really working for us.”

“That’s what I’m worried about, Admiral. It’s entirely possible that they suspected him all along and were only letting him run the Merlin aspect long enough to train a possible replacement. What about sending a cruiser to Marduk as well to provide backup if needed?”

“An interesting suggestion. Maybe it is time that we reminded the people of Marduk that the Federation Navy and Army are still very much in charge. I’ll see if a cruiser can get there at the same time as your people.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Curtis got up to leave and stopped when Lee asked a question.

“By the way, what’s M2 saying about the situation now?”

Curtis hesitated for a couple of seconds and then sat back down. Should he tell the Admiral about M2’s latest projections from just a few hours ago? The Merlin-type machine had consistently calculated a 10-12% chance that the underground SSA, if it really did exist at all, might be able to deceive the Federation long enough to build a military force capable of defeating the Federation. When one of Curtis’s staff had taken it upon herself to ask M2 to project the most likely long-term outcome of that scenario, the result had been a complete shock. Instead of a decline or collapse into a new Dark Age, human civilization could continue to advance but only under the stern guidance of a one-man rule. Curtis hadn’t had time to come to grips with the implications of that projection on what he should be doing. His head was telling him to stop resisting a resurgent SSA, but his heart was telling him to stay loyal to the Federation that he had devoted his adult life to. He hadn’t gotten far enough in his deliberations to answer the question of if or when he should brief Chairman Lee on this.

“The lack of reporting from Augustin and Vincennes hasn’t changed the outlook significantly yet. We still have an eighty to ninety percent probability of preventing a resurgent SSA from starting a new war.”

“That’s reassuring. I want to know if there’s any significant drop in that probability.”

“Yes, Sir.” Lee nodded to indicate that the meeting was over, and Curtis took his leave.

By the time he got back to his office, he had an idea. General Foxx Travis had recently retired from the Army and was living in Montevideo. Curtis checked the time zone difference and decided to call Travis anyway.

“Who the hell is calling me at this time of night?” demanded Travis.

“It’s Mikhel Curtis, General. I know it’s the middle of the night there, but I need an answer to a question, and I couldn’t wait.”

“I suspect that you could have waited but just didn’t want to. I’m also guessing that your question has to do with Merlin. Am I right?”

“Yes, General. As I think you know, I’m leading the team that’s operating the duplicate version of Merlin. We call it M2. Here’s the question. Was Merlin asked what would have to happen in order to avoid the inevitable decline?”

There was a pause so long that Curtis wondered if the connection had been broken. When Travis did speak, it was in a slow, low tone. “Have you been talking with Colonel Augustin, Curtis?”

Curtis wasn’t sure how to answer that. With Augustin on a covert mission to find an SSA underground movement, if one existed, he wasn’t sure if Travis was still cleared to be briefed on classified missions.

“Not about this question, General,” he said finally. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m asking because after we had abandoned the Merlin site and were on our way back here, Augustin came to me and told me that he had asked Merlin that kind of question, and the answer he claims Merlin gave him was that if an SSA-type of rebellion had succeeded and defeated the Federation, it might have been able to avoid the decline into a new Dark Age. I’m not sure what he expected me to do, considering that the SSA was no longer a viable political entity, and doing anything to undermine the stability of the Federation would have been a violation of the oath that we all, including Augustin, took. And even if I had been prepared to forsake my oath, what could one man possibly do to bring that kind of scenario about? So, I told him to forget about it and to stop talking about it. Now you tell me why you’re asking that question.”

“One of my staff asked M2 that question and got approximately the same answer.”

The was another long pause. “So, am I to understand that because one of your staffers asked M2 that question and got that answer and came to you about it, you decided to call me in the middle of the night to ask me about it, just out of idle curiosity? Do you expect me to believe that, General?”

Now it was Curtis who took his time answering. “Were you aware, General, that Poictesme passed legislation back in 867 allowing all abandoned Federation property and assets to be claimed as salvage?”

“No, I wasn’t. I was already retired by then, and I wasn’t paying attention to off-world news anymore. What of it?”

“What clearance level do you still have, General?” asked Curtis.

“I’m still cleared for material up to and including L4.”

Curtis relaxed. L5 was the highest level of classification, and Augustin’s mission was classified as L4. “Colonel Augustin came to us almost three years ago and proposed that he be sent on a mission to Marduk to ascertain whether there was an underground movement that could take advantage of Poictesme’s Abandoned Property Act by claiming the Merlin site and all the industrial infrastructure on Koshchei to build a new fleet of warships for a second attempt at succession. He convinced me, the Chief of the Army and the Chairman of the JCS, to approve the mission. He did go to Marduk, where he found a small shipping company run by a former SSA navy captain, who thought that being able to build very large hyper-freighters for almost nothing and having a Merlin of his own to offer strategic business advice would make him very rich. This individual has set up a salvage company on Poictesme and has claimed every military site on that planet plus Koshchei. Merlin’s being moved to Marduk, and the Koshchei assets are being used to build the super-freighters as well as new light cruisers that our Navy is buying from them.”

Travis’s reaction was immediate. “My God, Augustin is actually helping the SSA underground to build a new fleet, and Merlin will tell them how to use it.”

“You think he’s been playing us for suckers all along?” asked Curtis.

“Yes, and I suspect that now you do too. Is he still on Poictesme?”

Curtis sighed. “We don’t know. He hasn’t sent us a report in months. Our Army Intel asset on Poictesme has also stopped reporting.” Both men were silent for a while.

“He might actually be able to do it,” said Travis in a tone that sounded as if he was just thinking out loud.

“You mean help the underground movement build a fleet?” asked Curtis.

“I mean help a resurgent SSA defeat the Federation militarily. Now that it seems like a plausible outcome, I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

Curtis was stunned by that remark. Was the great General Foxx Travis, the hero of the war against the System States Alliance, actually contemplating approval of Augustin’s actions?

“The projection does put people like you and me in an awkward position. We took our oath to the Federation because we believed that it was the organization that was best able to keep the peace and maintain civilization. But if that’s no longer a valid assumption, then where does our duty really lie? If that assumption is not valid, then how do we weigh our oath against our moral duty?”

“I won’t pretend to be wise enough to give you a good answer to that dilemma, General. All I can say is that each man or woman has to follow their conscience wherever it leads them. In my case, it’s an even more difficult conundrum. The orders that I sent out, in the name of maintaining the Federation, caused the deaths of millions of people. I was able to justify those orders at the time. If I were to now decide that I was on the wrong side of history, how would I be able to live with myself?”

“By saving millions of lives?” The words came out of Curtis’s mouth before he had a chance to evaluate them.

“You’re referring to the millions that would be saved if the big decline is averted?”

“I guess that’s what I was referring to. The words just sort of popped out of my mouth.”

“Hm. I think I know what your conscience is telling you to do. I wish mine was that clear. This is starting to give me a headache, and I’m too tired to think clearly. How about I call you back in six hours, General?”

“Okay, General. Until then.” Curtis heard the click that told him Travis had hung up.

The six hours went by with no call. When another hour went by with still no call, Curtis decided to call Travis. The number rang a long time before Curtis heard a woman’s voice answer.

“Yes?”

“It’s General Curtis for General Travis. Who is this?”

“I’m Inspector Torrea, Montevideo Police.”

Curtis suddenly had a chilling premonition that Travis had done something tragic. “Has something happened to General Travis?”

“It appears that he shot himself approximately four hours ago. You spoke to him about seven hours ago. Did he seem despondent or depressed at that time?”

Curtis was about to ask how the police knew about the call when he remembered that it would have been easy for the police to check communications with the victim during the preceding hours and days. He then wondered if the call had been recorded. He decided that telling some but not all of the truth was the best way to keep the Merlin can of worms closed.

“Yes, he was what you could call despondent. I had woken him up in the middle of the night, and he was also tired and annoyed by the call.”

“Do you know why he was despondent?”

“It had to do with a classified matter pertaining to his time as Commander of the Federation’s Third Fleet-Army Force during the war. I’m not at liberty to go into further details.”

“If there’s an inquest and if you’re called to testify, you could be compelled to go into more detail, General.”

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Curtis couldn’t help laughing. “Nice try, Inspector, but hell will freeze over before a civilian court is able to force a Federation military officer to reveal classified information against his or her will. You might want to check with your department’s legal eagles before you try something like that. I’ll bet you a year’s salary they’ll tell you it can’t be done.”

“Hm, you may be right. I have to say, though, that you don’t sound too upset about General Travis’s death.”

“I didn’t know General Travis all that well. I think I only met him one time in person. His death is a tragic loss to the Federation. His contribution to history is undeniable.”

“You say you only met him one time in person, and yet you called him seven hours ago and tried to call him again just now. May I ask what branch of the Army you’re in?”

“I’ll tell you since you could find that out anyway. I’m in Army Intelligence.”

“I see. So, eighteen years after the war ends, General Travis is called by an Army Intelligence general that he’s only met once in person. Either you called to tell him something, or you called to ask him something, and three hours after that call, he shot himself. Can you understand why we, the police, are curious to know what was said on that call?”

Curtis hesitated. He had a feeling that Inspector Torrea was not going to let this go until she got a satisfactory answer.

“Here’s what I can tell you, Inspector. Army Intelligence has come across some new information about an aspect of the war that is still classified. I can’t and won’t go into details but suffice it to say that this new information did not make General Travis happy because it casts doubts on the wisdom of some of the actions that he took during the war. From his action after the call, I can only surmise that the negative impact on his legacy was so disturbing to him that he preferred not to face the consequences of his actions.”

“Even though that information was not going to be made public?” she asked.

“He knew or suspected that it might eventually become public, perhaps even during his lifetime.”

After what seemed like a long pause, Torrea said, “At least I have something I can put into my report on why he committed suicide. Very well, General, we’ll leave it at that for now. I or someone else from the department might call you in the next few days with some routine follow-up questions. Would that be a problem?”

“Not as long as you don’t call me in the middle of the night here in Australia, Inspector.”

“No, we won’t do that.” Curtis hung up before she could say anything else. He sat there staring at the wall without really seeing it for what seemed like a long time. In spite of his easy-going tone with the Inspector, the news of the General’s suicide had shocked him because it crystalized his own struggle to come to grips with the moral dilemma he was facing. Did his oath to preserve the Federation mean anything now? When he had taken the oath after graduating from the Army Academy, he had believed in the grandeur and glory of the Federation that had lasted over 800 years. When the System States Alliance war had broken out, he had dismissed the grievances that the SSA had with the Federation as mere excuses so that some men could make a grab for more power for themselves. By the war’s end, he had grudgingly admitted to himself that those grievances were real and, in the years since the war, had come to the realization that the Federation was deeply flawed with corruption at the highest levels, including the Army and the Navy. And in the back of his mind was the memory of a dinner at the home of one of his Academy instructors, who had talked about the historical fact that all political structures eventually give way to something else, usually by violent means. Even the Federation one of the other students had asked? Yes, not even the Federation would last forever. The best that could be hoped for was a peaceful transition to something else. That night he laid awake for hours mulling over what he should do. The decision seemed to be easier in the cold light of the next day, and he knew what he needed to do.

When he got to his office, he called in the officer who had run the projection on her own initiative. Captain Rachel Kwon had a worried look as she came in and saluted. Curtis returned the salute.

“Sit down, Rachel.”

When she was seated, he told her about his conversation with Foxx Travis and the outcome of that contact. Her worried look turned to shock.

“My God, how could a great leader like General Travis do that?”

“I think it was too many civilian deaths on his conscience. He was following Merlin’s strategy and millions died in the bombing of Kindelberg on Ashmodai and the other bombings. That’s a heavy burden to carry even when you think you’re on the right side. You and I are lucky that we don’t have that burden when it comes to figuring out what to do with what we now know.”

Kwon nodded, and when she spoke, it was in a low voice. “I’m seriously thinking of resigning my commission, General. If I can’t wear this uniform with pride, then I don’t want to wear it at all.”

Curtis leaned forward. “Resigning would be the easy thing to do. But consider this. If you or I were to resign, someone else would take our place and would use M2 to resist any efforts to rebuild the SSA. On the other hand, if you and I stay in uniform and continue to work with the M2, we might be able to…” he let the sentence dangle. Suggesting treason out loud still went against the grain of decades of thinking. Her expression now showed fear.

“If we’re caught,” she whispered, “I don’t think I could handle that.”

“If you get caught, you tell them you were acting on my orders and deny any knowledge of what I was trying to accomplish. If we’re going to do this, we have to do it carefully. For one thing, I want you to delete that projection from the archives and operating log. We’ll do the same thing to any questionable problem we give to M2 in the future. Any information that we generate to achieve this goal we’ll have to keep in our heads. Have you told anyone else about that projection?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good. Don’t. If someone else stumbles across it on their own, we’ll deal with that when it happens. For now, keep to your normal routine. Are you willing to do this, Rachel?” She understood that he was asking about working against the Federation.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll give you all the help I can.”

“Very good. We’ll talk more about this soon. You can return to your office.”

“Yes, Sir.” Kwon got up, saluted, and left.

Chapter Nine

Rivington City, Tanith, Day 177 of 872 A.E.

Augustin sighed as he looked out the wall-to-ceiling windows of his new home at the one and only city on this planet. He’d seen towns on Terra and on Marduk that were bigger than this city.  But at least this tower where he would be living for probably years was modern with all the usual conveniences. Off on the far side of the city was Merlin’s new home. After it was finished, the surface would look like a warehouse and would actually be used as such. But below the surface, the entire Duplicate Force Command complex would be rebuilt exactly as it had been on Poictesme. It was important that Merlin be re-assembled exactly the same way, even if that meant empty rooms that weren’t needed for their original purpose. It was the walls that contained the Merlin components that were important, not what was between them. The planners of this move had even had the foresight to build a tunnel connecting the Merlin complex with the tower.

Unfortunately, it was going to take months to complete the new complex and get Merlin back up and running. In the meantime, he had little to do and little he could do. He had already explored the area around the city using his personal aircar. Orbital scans of the planet had shown some interesting geography on other continents, but unless a ship was willing to take him there, a flight by aircar would be too long to be enjoyable. The city itself had little in the way of unique entertainment. The locals who had settled the planet a few years before the war had been told that the tower, warehouse, and the installations on the moon were part of a commercial project financed by a Marduk company and had been promised plenty of well-paying jobs. That, along with regular contact with Marduk that would bring in manufactured goods that Tanith couldn’t produce itself along with luxury and recreational goods, made the locals friendly and cooperative. He was about to check on the progress the apartment’s robot was making on unpacking his things when he heard a familiar voice.

“Not that spectacular a view, is it, Colonel?”

Augustin chuckled as he turned to look at Bentrik, who was standing in the open doorway. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I arrived yesterday, as a matter of fact. Just a quick inspection. I’ll be taking the ship back to Marduk tomorrow.” Bentrik looked around the living room. I hope you like the accommodations.”

“It’s roomy enough, and the furniture is better than what I could buy on Poictesme.”

“Then what’s the problem. I can tell that you’re unhappy about something.”

Augustin shrugged. “It’s the planet, or more precisely, it’s the fact that this looks and feels like a frontier colony. Even Poictesme wasn’t this undeveloped. There’s nothing to do here. What’s the total population of this planet? I’ll bet you it’s less than a hundred thousand.”

“I think you’re right about the number, but we expect that to double in about five years' time. Yes, Rivington isn’t a vibrant metropolis like Malverton but look at it this way. Once the shooting starts, you’ll be glad to live on an out-of-the-way frontier planet like Tanith.”

“Unless the Federation Navy figures out that Site B is on Tanith and not on Marduk.”

“That’s unlikely, but even if it does happen, this city has no obvious military value. If the Fed Navy bombs anything in this system, it’ll be the industrial infrastructure on Tanith’s moon. That’s why Merlin is being hidden underground; to avoid detection.”

“They could still land troops on Tanith and search the city,” said Augustin.

Bentrik shook his head. “The Federation Army isn’t ready for large-scale assaults on hostile planets. Their troop strength is limited, their transport capacity is even more limited, and all their heavy weapons, the tanks, and personnel carriers are on Poictesme, but they won’t be there for much longer. Those new, very large hyper-freighters we’re building on Koshchei can carry a lot of tanks at a time. Some of those vehicles will go to Marduk, some will be stationed on Tanith’s moon, and some will be stationed here, carefully hidden out of sight, of course.”

Augustin nodded. He turned back to look out the window again, deep in thought as Bentrik came over to stand next to him.

“There’s something I want to tell you, Aren,” said Augustin in a low voice. “Everything I told you back on Marduk when I showed up at your office was and still is true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. If I had tried to liquidate all my assets and take my wealth, what there was of it, with me on a one-way ticket to Marduk, Army Intelligence would have found out, and they would have stopped me. So I had to get their approval for the trip, and the way I did that was to suggest to them that I might be able to find out if an underground rebel organization existed on Marduk by pretending to be supportive of a resurgent SSA. They think I’m a double agent. I was sending reports back to them telling them that your organization is only interested in making money. By now, they’re probably wondering why they haven’t heard from me in months.”

Bentrik stared at Augustin for a while before speaking. “I wish you had told me this sooner, Leonhard.”

Augustin shrugged. “I thought about doing that, but I didn’t because if Major Vincennes had somehow found out, my cover would be blown, and it might have triggered military action by the Navy and Army. I’m telling you now because I don’t see how Army Intelligence could possibly find out now.”

Bentrik nodded and looked out the window. After a while, he turned back to Augustin and smiled. “I have an idea. If you prepare a series of reports telling Army Intelligence that everything’s still okay, that you had to stop reporting for a while until you got settled on Marduk and that nothing suspicious is going on, I’ll take those reports back with me and see that they’re sent to Terra one at a time with suitable intervals in between.”

Augustin laughed. “Ha, that’s a great idea. I wish I’d thought of it. How much time have I got before you head back?” Bentrik told him. “Okay, I’ll have half a dozen reports ready by then, and I can write more when those have all been sent. But you’ll have to arrange with Colonel Zareff to make sure return messages are collected and forwarded to me here so that I can respond.”

“I’ll make sure he does that. Is there anything you want me to send back on the next freighter?”

Augustin thought for a moment. “Well, how about the last ten years worth of Marduk entertainment recordings, visuals, music, books, that kind of thing. I didn’t have a chance to sample that stuff when I was there the last time.”

“I don’t know if I can get ten years' worth ready that quickly but I’ll collect what I can by the time the next freighter is ready to leave, and the rest will come on the next trip. I’ll talk to you again before my ship leaves. Enjoy the rest of your day, Leonhard.”

With weeks left to go until Merlin was back in operation, Augustin took advantage of the free time to visit the various sites on Tanith’s moon, where progress was being made on the industrial infrastructure. Enough metals were being mined, refined, and manufactured to begin building a shipyard on the moon’s surface. When completed, it would begin work on parasite craft that the 3,000-foot hyper-freighters would carry when hostilities were to begin.

It was on one of those visits when the first of the super-freighters, the City of Malverton, arrived in the Tanith system. Her first stop was Rivington City, where she hovered over the small spaceport while cargo and some military vehicles were unloaded. She then landed on the moon’s surface on open ground, which was able to support the ship’s mass because of the moon’s lower gravity. Augustin was surprised to see that the ship also carried six of the 500-foot interplanetary craft out of the hundreds left behind on Koshchei. Five of them were the armed craft designed to land infantry and combat vehicles. Until they were needed, Tanith’s moon seemed like a good place to store them. The sixth craft was unarmed. The engineers were still debating whether to modify those smaller spherical ships to make them combat-worthy or strip them down for their metal and parts, like power plants and maneuvering drives that could be re-used. The plan was to modify one to see how long it would take and how useful the modified version would be while at the same time begin building a prototype of a completely new design for an armed parasite craft. There was even talk that the new design would not be spherical. Modifying the unarmed ship would involve stripping the top half of the ship down to its central core in order to make room for missile launch tubes and missile storage compartments along with anti-missile defenses, detection, and other combat systems.

The last site that Augustin visited was the uranium mine. So far, only one uranium deposit large enough to be worth mining had been found. The ore still had to be refined in a complicated process and then sent through an enrichment facility where the useful U-235 would be separated from the more abundant U-238 that could not be used for fission warheads. The engineers there were somber because the output of the mine would only produce enough U-235 for a dozen warheads per year. Preliminary estimates of the number of warheads that would be required when the shooting started were in the high hundreds. Augustin knew that Army Intelligence had people on the lookout for anyone searching for uranium on any of the 500+ Federation planets, including Koshchei. Since energy extracted from the vacuum of space powered all devices, uranium wasn’t needed for civilian power generation, and the only other potential use was military. With active military operations still years away, no one seemed to be that concerned about acquiring more U-235.  Augustin decided that the first question he would ask Merlin would be where the Army and Navy had taken all the warheads that had been stored on Poictesme during the war. If Phoenix couldn’t find more uranium, maybe they could steal it.

When Merlin was finally re-assembled and operational, Augustin asked that question. The decision on where to store the thousands of fission and hundreds of fusion warheads had been made on Terra and Merlin only had limited information on the transportation arrangements, but it calculated a 91% probability that most of the warheads were stored in an underground complex that had been built on the back side of Earth’s moon early in the war. It had also calculated that some of the warheads had been deployed at the eight naval bases, which were strategically located within the volume of space that Federation planets occupied. When asked how the new SSA should deal with those stockpiles, Merlin’s answer could only be described as daring. One or two of the naval bases would have to be assaulted with ground troops in order to recover those warheads. They would then be used to neutralize the other bases and the main storage depot on the moon. Even if the SSA only had a small number of warheads, the Federation would be at a disadvantage if they didn’t have any. And while Earth had enough uranium deposits to replace those that were destroyed, it would take months to rebuild that stockpile, and it was possible that the war might be over by then.

That was the next question. How to win the war? Augustin knew enough about how Merlin interpreted questions like that to specify assumptions about the SSA’s military strength. Since he didn’t know what kind of warship would end up being built, he phrased the question in terms of the number of heavy cruisers of the type that the Federation had built and used during the war. When the force structure of the new SSA navy was defined, Merlin would calculate what each of the SSA warships was worth in terms of a heavy cruiser equivalent. Twenty heavy cruisers had a 61.8% chance of beating the Federation over an estimated 39 weeks of fighting. Forty heavy cruisers had an 89% chance of winning over 34 weeks, and sixty heavy cruisers had a 95% chance of winning in just 26 weeks. All those projections assumed that the Federation lost all of its fission and fusion warheads early on. The actual deployment plan for those cruisers was highly detailed, and Augustin, being an Army officer, didn’t really understand the logic behind what looked like sending ships to random destinations. He figured it might make sense to a naval officer.

Federation Army HQ, Canberra, Australia, Day 21 of 873 A.E.

General Curtis read the latest information from off-planet and suppressed the urge to groan. He had forgotten all about the two people he had sent to Marduk to try to locate Augustin. By the time they got there, looked around, and sent a message back, a year had gone by. They could not find any sign of Augustin. Which was very odd given that reports from Augustin had resumed months ago, supposedly from Marduk. Curtis had already heard back from Poictesme. Major Vincennes had completely disappeared so suddenly that all her belongings had been left behind. Merlin was 89% certain that she had been killed. Maybe Augustin had been killed too. He called Captain Kwon and told her to report to his office. When she arrived, he showed her the tablet containing the report from Marduk. She frowned as she read it.

“We’ve gotten reports from Colonel Augustin that had to have been sent from Marduk around the same time as when these two agents were there. How is it possible that they couldn’t find him?” She handed the tablet back.

Curtis leaned back in his chair. “I can think of several possible explanations for this discrepancy. Marduk has a high population with hundreds of cities. Augustin could be hiding somewhere on the planet, maybe at some kind of secret installation. It would take two people years to check every city, every town, and even then, they still might not find him. Another possibility is that he’s not on Marduk at all, but his messages make it appear that he is.” Kwon was about to say something, but Curtis held his hand up to stop her. “I think I know what you were about to say, Rachel. You’re wondering if Augustin has gone completely over to the rebels, maybe from the very start?”

She nodded. “He hasn’t used any of the codewords that would indicate that he composed the reports under duress. If he’s not on Marduk, then the rebels must be helping him to make it look like he’s there. And if he is in a secret location, then why not tell us where?”

“I think you’re right. If we hadn’t sent those two agents to Marduk, we’d have every reason to believe that he’s there and is still working for the Federation.” Curtis paused. Kwon said nothing. “I want you to ask M2 what the probability is that the Colonel is now fully committed to helping the rebels. Don’t let the others know that you’re initiating that query. When you have the results, print it out, then delete the file and the output log and bring the printout to me.”

Her reply was a curt, “Yes, Sir.” He nodded to her, which she took as the signal to leave.

She came back less than an hour later. There was a 66.34% chance that Augustin was no longer working for the Federation. Curtis had a hunch that he was a triple agent from the start of this whole operation.

“Okay, destroy this printout. We keep this result to ourselves. If we’re asked about Augustin’s loyalty, we say that M2 is calculating that the Colonel is still working for the Federation. That’s all, Rachel.”

Malverton, Marduk, Day 202 of 873 A.E.

Bentrik looked at the unconscious body with a mixture of dread and anger. “How certain are we that this Army Intel agent…what’s his name again?”

“Senior Lieutenant Tomonaga, Sir,” said the Phoenix operative.

“Yes, Tomonaga. How certain are we that he managed to send a report to his superiors about Tanith?”

“We managed to break through his anti-interrogation conditioning. He spilled his guts, and that’s what he said. He somehow managed to plant a recording device on one of the crew of the ship that makes the Tanith run. When the ship got back, he retrieved the device and had the hundreds of hours of recorded conversation analyzed for the name of individuals and planets. Tanith was the only planet name that showed up. His report to Terra went out on the TBMS hyper-freighter that left two weeks ago.”

“Dammit! When that report arrives, their Navy will send a cruiser to Tanith to check it out. They’ll find the shipyard complex on the moon. If they capture all the records, they’ll find out about the whole Organization. There are two agents, right? What about the other one?”

“He tried to resist being captured. We were forced to shoot him. He died of his injuries forty-five minutes ago, Sir.”

“Then we need to keep Tomonaga alive so that he can send a report back telling his superiors that his previous report was wrong and the information about rebel activity on Tanith was misinformation intended to deflect attention away from the real location, which he is still working to identify. We’ll keep feeding these bogus reports for as long as he can be made to cooperate.”

“And when he stops cooperating? What do we do with him then, Sir?”

“If I’m convinced that he’s no longer of any use to us, he’ll join his partner wherever we end up dumping his partner’s body.”

Federation Army HQ, Canberra, Australia, Day 56 of 874 A.E.

Curtis heard the knock on his office door frame and saw Rachel Kwon standing in the doorway with a tablet in her hand. He gestured for her to come in. She did so after closing the door. As she handed him the tablet, she said, “Another report from Tomonaga, Sir. He used code words that indicate duress.”

“The previous report was in error. Tanith is not a rebel operation…” Curtis read the rest of the report in silence. When finished, he handed the tablet back and sighed. “Clearly, he’s been captured and forced to write that. That tells me that the last report is accurate. The rebels are doing something on Tanith, and I’ll bet you a year’s pay that Augustin is there too. Considering how metal-rich Tanith’s moon is, I wouldn’t be surprised if the rebels have a shipyard or something on the moon.”

“Why would they need one there as well as what they’ve got on Koshchei?”

“They have to be careful about what they build at Koshchei. So far, in addition to the new light cruisers for us, they’re only building those very large hyper-freighters. The installation on Tanith’s moon is probably building warships. Do I remember correctly that our people at the volcano shipyard on Poictesme have said that each new hyper-freighter carries smaller, interplanetary craft left over from the war when they leave the system, Rachel?”

“Yes, Sir. That’s right.”

“Well, they could use a few of those to shuttle people and cargo between Tanith and its moon, but maybe they’re also modifying those smaller ships with weapons, perhaps even armor with the idea that the hyper-freighters would carry them to target systems and drop them off once the shooting starts.”

“I don’t see how a three hundred or four hundred foot craft with weapons added as an afterthought could outfight a thousand foot light cruiser, Sir.”

“No, I don’t either, but five of them might, and ten of them certainly could. Those large hyper-freighters have the capability to carry larger craft than that. Up to seven hundred feet in height, I think. It may be that they’re disassembling the smaller, interplanetary craft, and re-using the power plants, and maneuvering engines. The rest of the parts could be melted down and remanufactured into parts for a totally new design. One warship, seven hundred feet in diameter and armed to the teeth along with collapsium armor, that didn’t need to devote internal space to a hyperdrive might just be able to take on a light cruiser by itself.”

“Yes, I can see that, Sir. Are we going to ignore this latest report like we did the last one?”

Curtis started to say ‘yes’ but stopped. Maybe they should send a message back, addressed to Tomonaga but intended for his captors. That idea deserved more thought. He thanked Kwon, who returned to her office.

Malverton, Marduk, Day 311 of 874 A.E.

Bentrik couldn’t believe what he was reading. He reread it three times to make sure it said what he thought it said. The encrypted message addressed to Tomonaga and decrypted using Tomonaga’s personal decryption key was intended to be read by Leonhard Augustin!

From: General Mikhel Curtis, Director of M2 Section, Army Intelligence

To: Colonel Leonhard Augustin and To Whom It May Concern

Leonhard, M2 is now calculating a 98% probability that you are committed to helping the rebels bring the SSA back to life, and I think I know why. When I asked M2 what could prevent the slow drift of the Federation into a new Dark Age, the answer was a resurgent SSA to eventually replace the Federation with a one-man dictatorship of some kind. When I saw that output, I came to the conclusion that my oath of loyalty to the Federation was misplaced. I’m using my position as Director of the M2 Section to suppress any M2 output that would hurt the SSA cause. Senior Lieutenant Tomonaga’s report about rebel activity at Tanith was suppressed and deleted. No naval action has been initiated to investigate possible rebel activity in the Tanith system. Tell whoever is in charge of Tomonaga and Hanson to keep the bogus reports coming. With Merlin at your end and M2 at my end, we should be able to keep the lid on Federation suspicions until the rebels are ready to initiate military action. Enclosed is a new encryption key that only I will be able to decipher if you or your allies wish to communicate with me directly. Good luck to both of us, Colonel.

Curtis.

Bentrik called for his Avatar. “Set up an ad hoc meeting of the Council.”

When the nine members of the expanded Council met electronically three hours later, Bentrik read the message to them.

“This could be a bogus message intended to trick us into revealing ourselves,” said Phoenix One.

“I don’t believe so,” said Bentrik. “There’s been enough time since Army Intelligence received their agent’s report identifying Tanith as a rebel base for the Navy to have sent warships there, but they haven’t done that. We would know by now if they had.”

“Unless they’re holding back to lull us into a false sense of security,” said Phoenix Three.

“You mean give us more time to hide what we’re doing in the Tanith system so that when they finally do arrive, they’ll have a harder time finding us?” asked Bentrik.

Phoenix Three laughed along with a couple of others. “Well, when you put it that way, my idea does sound silly.”

“The question I think we should be addressing is what do we do with this overture?” asked Phoenix One. “Should we communicate with this General Curtis, and if so, do we tell him the truth or feed him misinformation? I’d like Phoenix Two to answer this question.”

Bentrik nodded to give himself more time to organize his response. “Yes, that is the question. I don’t think there’s any need to send General Curtis a direct message right now. We should keep sending bogus reports from the two Army officers, and if and when we have something important to tell Curtis, then we send him a personal message using the encryption key he’s provided. In the meantime, we resume operations in the Tanith system. I think I should go to Tanith to confer with Colonel Augustin and get Merlin’s analysis on what this development means for our future plans.”

Before Bentrik could continue, Phoenix Five interjected. “I disagree about that last point. Why go there yourself and be gone for weeks when you can just send a detailed list of questions that you want Merlin to answer? With the new hyper-freighters coming into service, we need you here to make sure they’re being used in the most efficient manner possible. The last time you visited Tanith, there were some hiccups in the handling of the new recruits that my operation is responsible for, and we can’t afford any slipups now when the volume of recruits is starting to ramp up. I propose a motion that Phoenix Two be ordered to remain on Marduk until the Council approves otherwise.”

“Do I hear a second?” asked Phoenix One.

“I second the motion,” said Phoenix Seven.

“All in favor of the motion, raise your hand.” Six of the nine raised their hands. Phoenix One decided not to bother asking for opposing votes. “The motion is carried. Is there any other business that you’d like to bring forward at this time, Phoenix Two?”

“No, Sir. Nothing that can’t wait for the next scheduled meeting,” said Bentrik.

“Fine. In that case, we’re adjourned.”

Chapter Ten

Rivington City, Tanith, Day 34 of 875 A.E.

Augustin watched from his 55th-floor apartment in the tower as the first prototype corvette landed at the spaceport next to the City of Malverton hyper-freighter. The smaller ship was not only tiny compared to the freighter, it was also a completely different shape. Instead of the sphere, the corvette was cone-shaped.

This radical departure from accepted warship design had more to do with the whole mothership/parasite craft concept than with anything else. For its entire history, Federation navy ships were spherical, as were all interstellar commercial ships, for the simple reason that a sphere maximized the amount of internal space compared to any other shape. But the Phoenix design team, which included former SSA navy officers as well as engineers, had come to the conclusion that if the bulk of the new fleet was going to consist of converted freighters acting as motherships, then perhaps having spherical parasite craft might not be the best way to go. Computer simulations showed that when spherical parasite craft was docked inside the mothership’s cargo bay, loading missiles into the spherical ship was difficult. And in terms of the kinds of equipment that a warship would need, some of the internal volumes of a sphere ended up not be used at all because of the curvature of the hull.

The cone design, on the other hand, kept the bottom half of the spherical interplanetary ship containing the power plant, maneuvering engines, and life support systems. The added internal space around the base was used for anti-ship missile storage and launch tubes, while the new upper section contained defensive systems, crew quarters, escape pods, and a small shuttle bay.

Augustin accessed the computer in his apartment that was tied directly to Merlin. A quick check of data inflows showed that Merlin had received the complete profile of the corvette design. Each corvette had just six anti-ship missile tubes. That didn’t seem like a lot to Augustin. The missile storage capacity of only eight missiles per tube also seemed low. He contacted his Merlin team and told them to program Merlin to run a series of combat simulations against the Federation’s existing light cruiser as well as the mothballed heavy cruiser and battlecruiser designs. That would tell him what the heavy cruiser equivalent of the corvette design was. He decided to head down to the Merlin control complex while the simulations were being run.

When he got there, his team had the results, and they were shockingly bad. Merlin had calculated multiple heavy cruiser equivalents based on simulation parameters ranging from seven corvettes equal to one heavy cruiser down to twelve corvettes. Even at the most optimistic end, a minimum of 20 heavy cruiser equivalents meant that 140 corvettes had to be modified. And since the large hyper-freighters could only carry six at a time, that meant that 24 of them would have to be built just to carry the corvettes plus more to carry the ground force craft that would be needed to take and occupy key locations. Analysis of the simulations themselves ended up taking several hours, and by the end of that time, Augustin had a better idea of what the problem was.

Federation Navy warships were all jump capable. That meant that within a star system, they could micro-jump into battle or retreat from battle. It also meant that the unarmed motherships were vulnerable if they were detected. It was only when both sides were in the no-jump zones of a star or planet that corvettes had an advantage that could be exploited. The conical design meant that radar waves coming from in front would be deflected off to one side, thereby making the corvette difficult to detect if it was approaching a Fed warship. The opposite was true if the corvette was moving away from the warship. Its flat rear made it a nice big radar target. And while the rotary launchers holding the six anti-ship missiles could themselves be rotated 180 degrees that would allow the corvette to fire AS missiles to the rear, the anti-missile missiles and the laser point defense batteries could not fire at enemy missiles approaching from the rear. This weakness was particularly devastating if the Fed warship was firing missiles armed with fission or fusion warheads. It would only take one hit to vaporize the corvette completely. If all the rebel naval forces would face was light cruisers that did not have collapsium armor, the seven-corvette ratio per heavy cruiser equivalent would apply. But if the Fed Navy managed to activate any of the mothballed heavy cruisers or battlecruisers, the ratio would quickly drop to 12, and that was assuming that the rebel fleet had fission-tipped missiles of their own. Without those, the ratio became infinite, which was Merlin’s way of saying that the new SSA could not win under those parameters.

Augustin understood just enough about the nuances of space combat to recognize that Merlin had to rerun the calculations for how many ships it would take to win over what period of time using corvettes as the unit of measure instead of heavy cruiser equivalents. His team set up the parameters such that Merlin would calculate how man corvettes would be needed to have a 66.6% chance of winning over various periods of time. Unlike the previous projection, where a larger fleet would win in less time, this projection showed that a quick victory over 21 weeks would require 233 corvettes and 55 hyper-freighters. And that still left a one-third chance of losing the war. But if the SSA was unable to realize total victory in 21 weeks with the fighting still going on, then the odds of winning declined sharply unless the number of corvettes increased equally sharply to offset the growing number of re-activated Fed heavy cruisers and battlecruisers.

Aren’s not going to like this, thought Augustin. He spent the rest of the day preparing a long report that would be sent to Marduk on the next freighter.

That report, when it reached Marduk, upset Bentrik so much that he threw the tablet at the wall in a rage. To find out now that years' worth of effort had been a waste of time was so disturbing that Bentrik wondered if the Council would blame him and perhaps impose the ultimate punishment of death. There was no way that he could hide this report from the others, and after calming down, he arranged for an electronic emergency meeting. When everyone was connected, Bentrik held up a new tablet and began speaking.

“I’ve just received the latest report from Colonel Augustin that shows the results of Merlin’s analysis of the combat efficiency of our new corvette design. Before I tell you what the report says, I’d like to review some background information. We decided on the mothership/parasite craft concept in order to be able to build large freighters on Koshchei, which would not make the Feds suspicious, while at the same time building the armed parasite craft on Tanith’s moon. And because we had hundreds of small, interplanetary craft left over from the war, it seemed a good idea to use them as much as possible to build those parasite craft. It didn’t take long for the engineers to figure out that keeping the spherical hull would not provide enough room for everything that an armed ship should have. It was felt that the conical design could provide the extra space needed with a minimum of modification time. In hindsight, we should have asked Merlin to evaluate the cone concept design before building it.”

“Unfortunately, Merlin was not available at that point because it was still in the process of being moved from Poictesme to Tanith, and rather than wait until it was available, the decision was made to go ahead with the prototype. That prototype has now been completed, and Merlin has evaluated it. I’ll spare all of you the details which you can read for yourself. Suffice it to say that if we tried to take on the Fed Navy with a combination of corvettes and motherships, it would take us an estimated thirteen years to build the minimum naval force that would give us only a two-thirds chance of winning a quick war. The number of motherships required would be so far in excess of the maximum number that could be economically justified that building those extra freighters and then not using them is bound to draw the attention of the Feds, thereby risking exposure before we’re ready.”

“The bottom line is this. This corvette design is unusable, and that raises serious questions about the whole mothership/parasite craft concept, at least insofar as combat capability is concerned. It appears to me that we have to find a completely different approach to designing, building, and fielding a naval force capable of neutralizing the Fed Navy quickly.”

It was Phoenix One who responded first. “This is very disturbing news, Phoenix Two. Does this mean that we have to go back to our original plan of building jump-capable warships from scratch in the Tanith system?”

Bentrik hesitated before answering. “I hope we can find a better solution than that. As all of you may remember, the problem with that approach is that we’d have to invest more capital in the manufacturing capacity for building ship power plants, maneuvering drives, and jump drives. Right now, Tanith’s moon doesn’t have that capability because we thought we could re-cycle the power plants and maneuvering drives from the salvaged interplanetary craft. But that’s just the initial challenge. We’d have to design a warship which takes time. If the ship is to be armored, that will slow down the production process significantly unless we spend billions more to expand mining and refining capacity. Adding weapons and defenses to the large hyper-freighters can be done, but adding armor to them after they’re built would be extremely difficult and time-consuming, and the end result would be that their armor protection would be less than one hundred percent.”

“If only we could build warships on Koshchei without having to worry about the Federation taking notice,” said Phoenix Three.

“Yes, if only. That would be just about as difficult as hijacking the mothballed warships that are sitting on Earth’s moon,” said Phoenix Five.

Bentrik listened with half his attention to the other responses while he examined the idea of hijacking mothballed warships. The advantages were obvious. If it could be done, it would be quick. It would deny the Federation Navy the use of those ships, and it was possible that some of those mothballed ships still had their fission or fusion warheads aboard. The problem would be activating those ships. Bentrik knew that the Fed Navy had taken the precaution of requiring a specific code sequence for each mothballed ship to unlock its computer systems to prevent exactly the kind of hijacking that he was now contemplating. Merlin wouldn’t know what those activation codes were since it was shut down before those ships were mothballed. But General Curtis’ M2 might know. He waited until there was a lull in the conversation.

“I’d like the Council’s approval to further explore the feasibility of hijacking mothballed warships. If we could get the re-activation codes to at least some of those ships, then the whole idea becomes a lot more practical. This might be a good time to see what General Curtis is willing to do for us. With the Council’s permission, I’ll send General Curtis a message asking him to provide us with that information if possible.”

It was Phoenix Three, the Director responsible for personnel, who broke the stunned silence. “Even if we could get those codes, how would we actually carry out the hijacking, Phoenix Two? We don’t have spare heavy cruiser or battlecruiser crews waiting on the sidelines.”

Bentrik heard a few chuckles and waited for them to subside before speaking. “No, we don’t, and this kind of operation would have to be carefully planned. But right off the top of my head, I think if we pulled all our officers and crew from our freighters, we might have enough personnel to man critical positions for perhaps a dozen battlecruisers. Not enough for them to fight those ships but enough to get them back to Tanith. With the travel time involved, we might be able to have additional personnel recruited and standing by when they arrive to deploy at least some of them operationally. I’d like to point out that getting the codes doesn’t commit us to anything. We can still decide not to go any further.”

There was silence as the rest of the Council waited for Phoenix Three’s response. “As long as we’re all aware of the practical difficulties that would be involved in this kind of scheme, I have no objections to investigating if it can be done at all. I second Phoenix Two’s motion.” The vote was unanimous in favor of the motion. By the time the meeting ended, the Council had decided to stop construction of any more corvettes, begin recruiting experienced hypership officers and crew from other ex-SSA planets and begin forming infantry and armor ground units to be stationed on Tanith.

With the holograms of the other Directors gone, Bentrik took a deep breath to relax the tension he felt in his body. The first thing he would do was compose a message to General Curtis. A quick check confirmed that the City of New Dresden was still in orbit, waiting for more cargo. With her improved hyperdrive, she could arrive at Terra in less than three weeks, four if she diverted to Poictesme for a load of brandy and tobacco first. She could then bring Curtis’s response back directly to Marduk. He got busy composing the message.

Federation Army HQ, Canberra, Australia, Day 64 of 875 A.E.

Curtis took a sip of melon brandy while he waited for the tablet to scan and decrypt the printed message that had been waiting for him when he got home. So, they, whoever ‘they’ are, have finally got around to contacting me directly. That fact that he hadn’t gotten a private message as soon as physically possible hadn’t bothered him. Augustin’s allies were being careful, just as he would have been in their place. When the decrypted message was ready, Curtis took the precaution of putting his glass down before starting to read it.

YOUR OFFER OF ASSISTANCE IS GREATLY APPRECIATED. CITY OF NEW DRESDEN WILL REMAIN IN ORBIT FOR 48 HOURS TO CARRY BACK YOUR REPLY. THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION WOULD GREATLY ASSIST THE EFFORTS THAT YOU SUPPORT.

1)    RE-ACTIVATION CODES FOR ALL MOTHBALLED WARSHIPS

2)    THE PRECISE LOCATION OF THOSE MOTHBALLED WARSHIPS.

3)    ANY DETAILS ON HOW THOSE SHIPS ARE MONITORED AS WELL AS ANY SECURITY PRECAUTIONS RELATED TO THOSE SHIPS.

4)    THE PRECISE LOCATION OF STOCKPILES OF FISSION AND FUSION WARHEADS/MISSILES.

5)    DETAILS ON CURRENT OR PROPOSED COUNTER-INTELLIGENCE OPERATIONS BY FED ARMY OR NAVY THAT WOULD BE A THREAT TO OUR EFFORTS.

6)    AN ESTIMATE OF HOW LONG YOU THINK YOU CAN SAFELY REMAIN IN YOUR POSITION AND CONTINUE TO ASSIST US.

BE ADVISED THAT IF YOUR POSITION BECOMES UNTENABLE, YOU’D BE WELCOME ON MARDUK.

MERLIN’S DISCIPLES

My God. They’re thinking of hijacking our mothballed wartime fleet. The sheer audacity of the idea made him laugh out loud. He wondered if Augustin had come up with the idea then rejected it. Augustin was an Army officer, not a naval officer. It certainly wouldn’t have occurred to him, and he doubted if Augustin had come up with the idea. Who had come up with it wasn’t important. The question he now had to answer was whether he could obtain that information without getting caught within the 48-hour window? M2 might know where those ships are and possibly even the codes. If I go back to the complex now, it might look suspicious. I wonder if Rachel’s still there. He put in a call to her office. She answered almost immediately.

“Captain Kwon speaking.”

“I thought you might be working late today. You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“Yes, Sir. I guess I have.”

“There’s something I want to get your thoughts on. Have you had dinner already?”

“No, Sir. I was about to go out and grab a quick bite somewhere before returning here.”

“Well, I haven’t had dinner yet either, so how about we kill two birds with one stone and kick my idea around while we eat dinner? Do you know that place on the north side with the fifty’s décor?”

“I know which place you mean, General.”

“Good. Let’s meet there in fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes, yes, Sir.”

Curtis made sure he got there first in order to find a booth with as much privacy as possible. When Kwon arrived, she looked a bit uncomfortable. Curtis thought he understood why. The two of them had had lunch together since agreeing to work for the rebels but not dinner. He had a hunch that she was wondering if his dinner invitation was more than just work-related.

Curtis waited until they had given the ridiculously primitive-looking robot waiter their orders before broaching the subject.

“First of all, I want to reassure you that this is not a date. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a work-related meeting that happens to include a meal, just in case you had any doubts about that.”

Kwon noticeably relaxed and smiled. “I’m relieved to hear that, General.”

“Good.” He casually looked around before taking the decrypted message out of his jacket pocket and sliding it across the table to her. “Read this but leave it on the table.”

When she was finished reading, she gave a slight nod. He pulled the document back and put it back in his jacket. When he spoke, his voice was lower than normal.

“Good. When you get back to your office, query Merlin about the codes, the two locations, and whatever security info Merlin might have. Print out the results, then delete the output file and query log entry. I’m asking you to do this because you’re still at the office. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow to check myself because if Merlin doesn’t have the answers, I’ll need as much time as possible to look elsewhere for them, and if I returned to the office now, it might look suspicious.”

Kwon leaned forward and put her right hand in front of her mouth as an added precaution. If I can get some answers, what do I do with them?” He told her how to get the results to him later that evening.

Lieutenant Francesca Magilen looked around as she sat down at a booth and was surprised to see Captain Kwon and General Curtis sitting together. She had noticed that over the past few months, the Captain had always closed the door to the General’s office whenever she went to see him, unlike in the past when she usually left the door open. The possibility that they were having a romantic/sexual relationship contrary to regulations had occurred to her several times already, and now the two of them were having dinner in a restaurant that was not exactly conveniently located. That implied that they wanted to avoid being seen together.

As she gave her order to the robot waiter, she looked at the two of them again. They’re not acting like lovers, not holding hands or gazing into each other’s eyes. Very strange. As one of the junior officers assigned to the M2 section, Magilen had only been working there for 13 months and knew that there were things about the way that military staff operated that she hadn’t learned yet, but this meeting still bothered her. she decided that she would follow Captain Kwon when she left the restaurant. It might turn out to be nothing at all, but it’d be fun.

It was two hours later when Curtis took the elevator down from his apartment to the basement level and walked over to the rear entrance that was normally used by the property management company’s personnel. He used a handheld device to deactivate the security alarm, opened the door, and stepped outside. Kwon was waiting for him.

“Did you check to see if anyone was following you?” he asked as she handed him a folder. He opened it and flipped through the pages inside.

“I didn’t think I needed to check. Sorry, Sir.”

Curtis looked around but didn’t see anyone. It was night, after all, and they were standing at the rear of the building. “I’m probably too cautious, but better too cautious than not cautious enough. If we meet like this again, make sure you check for followers. What did M2 have?”

“All one hundred seventy-eight activation codes plus the precise location of the ships and of the warheads, that were stored on the backside of the moon. Unfortunately, there was nothing about security measures, but I did some additional checking, and the ship location matches perfectly with a personnel location that sounds like it’s some kind of observation installation. If I had to guess, I’d say it has radar as well as visual oversight of the landing field for the ships. I doubt if there’d be a lot of people stationed there at any one time, but I’m not sure, Sir.”

“Okay, very good, Rachel. I’ll take this from here. Go home now and get some sleep.”

“Yes, Sir. Good night, General.”

Curtis watched until Kwon had walked around the corner before re-entering his building and re-activating the security system. He encrypted the codes and locations before going to bed. An envelope containing the encrypted data would be couriered up to the hyper-freighter for delivery to Augustin’s address on Marduk. If he managed to obtain more information, he could always send up a second envelope before the ship left orbit.

Magilen nodded when it became obvious that Captain Kwon had gone home. She didn’t know who or why Kwon had met someone behind the other tower, but a hunch said it was General Curtis and if that was the case, then meeting the General at the rear of his building for a few minutes hours after having dinner together was not a romantic or sexual thing. It smacked of being something illegal. She would have to give this a lot more thought as to what she should do next.

By the time Curtis arrived at his office the next morning, he had a plan for getting the rest of the information. The two installations on the backside of the moon were navy facilities. If an Army officer inquired about security arrangements there and then ships were hijacked later, that inquiry would attract attention that neither he nor Rachel wanted. But if the inquiry was made by a naval officer and someone attracted to the M2 Section, then it might escape notice. His department did have one naval officer seconded to it in a liaison function. Curtis called Lieutenant Magilen.

“Yes, General. What can I do for you?”

“Francesca, if I remember correctly, M2 calculated a thirteen percent chance that the rebel organization, if it exists, might try to attack military bases and installations in the Terran system.”

“Yes, Sir. That’s correct, Sir. That’s from a series of questions we asked M2 several months ago.”

“Yes, I remember now. It occurs to me that even though the probability is low, we shouldn’t assume that it won’t happen. Therefore, I’d like you to check with the appropriate navy departments to get an idea of how good security arrangements are for all naval installations in this system, and I’ll have one of the other team members do the same for the army installations. Do you think you could get that information back to me before you leave the office today? I have a meeting scheduled with Admiral Lee for tomorrow morning, and I’d like to have that information in hand when I talk with him.”

“I think I can have that ready for you later today, Sir.”

“Very good. That’s all for now, Lieutenant.”

Magilen stared at the comm. device. The nature of the request was not that unusual, but given her suspicions about the General, any request from him now made her wonder if there was something insidious behind it. She shrugged and began working on the task. It was almost midnight when she was finished her report, which she sent to the General’s inbox. As she left the building, she decided she was too tired to bother conducting any covert surveillance now. If the General and Kwon were conspiring about something, nothing drastic was going to happen in the next 24 hours.

Curtis made sure his office computer would automatically transfer any incoming messages or files to his home computer, which would notify him with an audio tone. When he heard the tone, he realized that he had dozed off and that it was now just after midnight. A quick check revealed the Lieutenant’s report, which was surprisingly long. He was impressed with the volume of data that the young naval officer had managed to accumulate in just 15 hours. It didn’t take him long to find the information on the missile storage site and mothballed ship site. Just as he suspected, the security precautions were not very comprehensive. The radar coverage had gaps in it, and with only two people stationed at the tower, which overlooked the field where the ships were, it was highly likely that they would not be watching the ships every second of every day. He added the information to his own report that was already half-written, encrypted it, and arranged for it to be couriered up to the ship. Before going to sleep again, he made a mental note to bring up naval security measures with Lee to cover himself if asked at some future point why he had requested the information.

It was later the next day when Magilen got a call from her former superior in Naval Intelligence, Captain Hugh Arlett.

“Hello, Francesca. How are you?”

“Fine, Sir.”

“That’s what I hear. I’ve just spoken with Admiral Khegan, who had a chat with Admiral Lee. Lee had a meeting with General Curtis, among other people, and Curtis went out of his way to praise the thoroughness of the report on naval installation security measures that he asked you to prepare on short notice. Lee asked Khegan to ask me to share that with you. General Curtis was apparently quite impressed by your work, and it won’t hurt your career to have Admirals aware of your performance. Promotions come faster when this kind of feedback gets to the right ears. On the flip side, I now want you to come back to this side of the tracks even more than before. Aren’t you getting tired of working with Army people, Francesca?”

Magilen laughed. “I’m willing to put up with their idiosyncrasies in order to work with the M2, Sir. But it’s nice to know that you’re wanted.” She decided not to mention her concerns about Curtis and Kwon. Casting allegations now right after being praised by one of the suspects was bound to make her superiors wonder about her sanity.

“Okay, I guess I’ll have to wait a while longer. Anytime you want to come back to NavInt, just say the word. Let’s have lunch sometime soon.”

“Yes, Sir. Whenever’s convenient for you.”

“Good. I’ll let you know.”

Chapter Eleven

Malverton, Marduk, Day 255 of 875 A.E.

Bentrik handed the two decrypted messages to Augustin, who he had called back to Marduk specifically to get the Colonel’s take on Curtis’s response. Augustin didn’t mind at all having the opportunity to spend some time and money in a big, modern city.  He spent most of his attention on the message regarding the security measures.

“Tell me if you agree with my interpretation of this information, Aren. It sounds like lidar coverage of most of the space around Earth’s moon is missing.”

“That’s the way it sounds to me too,” said Bentrik. “Is there enough information here for Merlin to plot the lidar arcs of these installations so that we can see where the gaps are?”

Augustin nodded. “I’m sure there is, but you don’t need Merlin for that. Any half-decent astrogational computer should be able to do it. But tell me this. Can a ship approach Earth’s moon and stay out of lidar detection long enough to reach the surface?”

“I think so. What have you got in mind?”

Augustin handed the message back and leaned forward. “Well, if a freighter loaded with small, light contra-gravity vehicles could reach the surface below the horizon of the ship depot security tower, then our people could fly close enough to the ground to not be seen by the security people, and when they got to the depot, the ships themselves would block visual detection. Our people could then access the ships, input the correct activation code, and lift-off all at the same time.” He was about to say more when he saw Bentrik shake his head.

“No, we don’t want to do that, at least not all of them at the same time. There’s no way the security people wouldn’t notice a hundred seventy-eight ships missing all of a sudden, even if they didn’t see them take off, and they’d sound the alarm. The freighter might not be able to avoid being intercepted by Navy patrol ships since it’s not as fast as the warships. And that’s all assuming that we could find enough people to fly all hundred seventy-eight ships, which we can’t right now or for the foreseeable future.”

“The thing is, we don’t need all those ships. If we can hijack the battlecruisers or even just most of them, that would be enough to tip the scales in our favor, as long as the rest of those ships won’t be used against us.”

“Okay, how do we prevent that?” asked Augustin.

Bentrik grinned and pointed to the message containing the codes. “We use the codes to activate all the other warships just long enough to change the codes. Then, if the Fed Navy tries to activate them later, they won’t be able to.” Both men laughed. When the laughter had subsided, Augustin cleared his throat.

“Oh, that’s a nice touch. What do you think should be done with the warhead depot?”

Bentrik picked up the message and read that section again. “Hm. I’m not sure what we should do about that. Without their mothballed fleet, their ability to use those warheads is limited. It would take them months to recall their light cruisers to arm them with the fission missiles, and our battlecruiser fleet might well have destroyed or crippled most of those light cruisers before they get the recall message. I’d love to try to hijack a few hundred of those missile warheads, but that would take hours, and there’s no guarantee that our people could neutralize the small security force guarding those warhead bunkers before they could sound the alarm.”

“No, you’re right. Trying to steal some of those warheads is too risky. Merlin thinks at least some of the warships still have their missiles on board due to lack of space in the warhead bunkers. Maybe all we need to do is block the Fed Navy from getting access to those stored warheads. A small, tactical fission device placed in the right place might be able to do that.”

“Yes, it might,” said Bentrik. He paused for a few seconds before speaking. “You know, what we really need is someone with covert ground operations experience to take a good look at this and come up with a plan if possible. I think I may be able to find someone like that here on Marduk, but it’ll take a day or two to find him or her. What do you think about Curtis’s answer to our question about his ability to continue working for us?”

“He seems pretty confident about not being caught. I wonder if he’s overly confident. It’s not like we can force him to defect to Marduk if he doesn’t want to come.” Augustin leaned back and stared off into space, obviously deep in thought. Bentrik waited patiently.

Augustin looked back at Bentrik. “I just had a wild idea, Aren. Curtis is a valuable intel asset, but if he’s caught, not only do we lose that asset, he might actually become a liability if he’s forced to reveal what he knows about us. And then his replacement would use M2 against us instead of for us. But what if we could get him to sabotage M2, perhaps even destroy it completely, and then catch a ride to Marduk?”

“My God, Leonhard, a wild idea is right. Even if there was a way to destroy M2, how could we convince Curtis to try it, and how would we know if he did or not? And would that happen before, during, or after we hijack their battlecruisers?”

Augustin thought about that for a few seconds. “After.”

“Oh? Why after?”

“In order to pull off the hijacking, one of our super-freighters will have to bring in the covert team and their equipment, vehicles, etc. Let’s say that the freighter doesn’t even try to avoid detection. It approaches Earth on a trajectory that just happens to take it into a gap in the moon’s lidar coverage. That’s when it deploys the covert team in one of the 300-foot interplanetary ships. The freighter continues on into orbit around Earth. Curtis gets a message telling him to activate the sabotage at a certain time and then take a shuttle up to the freighter. He’ll have to give himself plenty of time to get up there before the demolition charge goes off. During that time, the covert team will have landed, made their way to the ship depot, accessed the ships, changed the codes, and made the battlecruisers ready to lift off. As soon as the demolition charge goes off, all hell is going to break loose at Fed HQ, and they’ll probably put all their installations throughout the system on alert. The hijacking has to be completed before then.”

“Hm. What about the 300-foot ship? How will it rendezvous with the freighter?”

Augustin smiled. “It won’t. When it’s no longer needed, its autopilot will be programmed to fly the ship into the sun after the crew has transferred to one of the battlecruisers.”

“Yes, that will work very nicely,” said Bentrik as he picked up one of the messages again. After reviewing it for a few seconds, he frowned. “There are more than one hundred seventy-eight activation codes here. Look at the ship identification tags. HC and BC are obvious, but what are LRTs?” He handed the message to Augustin.

“LRTs are long-range transports. It would make sense that surplus transports would be stored in the same place as the warships.”

“What’s the number after the LRT mean?” asked Bentrik.

“Size classifications. LRT1 is the 800-foot diameter class, the smallest of the jump-capable transports. LRT2 is the 1200-foot class, and LRT3 is the largest at 1500 feet diameter.”

“The same size as the battlecruisers. Interesting. Are they armored?”

“Not with collapsium armor, no. But their outer hulls are thick enough so that they can shrug off just about any chemical explosive shell. They’re designed to be able to transport infantry and contra-gravity armor battalions and, if necessary, land them under fire on hostile territory. Are you thinking of hijacking some of them too?”

Bentrik shook his head. “As much as I’d like to, I don’t see how we could find the crews to man any of them in time for the hijacking. It’s going to be a challenge getting all the battlecruisers. If it’s a choice between an extra battlecruiser and a long-range transport, I think you can guess which one I’d pick in a heartbeat.”

Augustin nodded. “Then I guess we’ll just have to change their activation codes too.”

Bentrik looked like he was about to say something when he hesitated and started shaking his head again slowly. “I just thought of a wrinkle that we haven’t considered, which could nix the whole idea. Are these ships likely to still have food aboard, and if so, would it still be any good after all this time?”

Augustin’s eyes opened wide. “Son of a bitch. I hadn’t thought of that either, but you’re right. Even if they left the food onboard in storage, it probably isn’t edible anymore after seventeen years. Couldn’t the hijack team bring their own food supplies?”

Bentrik snorted. “Ha. Not for trips lasting months which, now that I think of it, is how long it would take the battlecruisers to reach Tanith using the slower jump drives that these ships were built with. And even if the hijack crews could somehow manage jumps that long, it means we wouldn’t be able to redeploy them in battle fast enough to catch most of the Fed’s light cruiser fleet by surprise. When you get back to Tanith, have Merlin game out that kind of scenario, but I’ll bet you our chances of winning the war won’t be nearly as good as we were hoping for. Damn!”

When it was clear that Augustin had nothing to contribute to the problem, Bentrik sighed and leaned back. “Let’s you and I ponder this problem for a day or two while I see if I can find a covert ground ops veteran to give us an expert perspective on the actual hijacking component. Maybe we’ll come up with a solution to the food problem by then.”

It actually took Bentrik three days to find the expert. When Augustin entered the shipping company’s conference room, he saw that a hologram image was being projected on top of the large oval table and Bentrik standing to one side talking to a shorter but stocky man. Bentrik made the introductions.

“Leonhard, this is Major Roscoe Allenby. During the war, he commanded a ground assault regiment. Major, this is Colonel Leonhard Augustin. He was one of General Foxx Travis’s subordinates in Third Fleet-Army Force, and after the war, Colonel Augustin spent some time in Army Intelligence. He’s now working for our side.”

“Are you sure of that?” asked Allenby in a voice tinged with hostility.

Bentrik laughed. “Yes, Major. I’m sure. It’s a long story, but the Colonel has proven his commitment to the Cause. Now that we’re all here, let’s get started. This holo image is a spot on the backside of Earth’s moon, and those spheres are Fed navy warships built during the war and are now mothballed. Those larger ones over there are battlecruisers. We want to hijack them and render the others unusable by changing their re-activation codes. There’s a security tower somewhere nearby, but we’re not sure where.”

Allenby walked around the table while looking closely at the holo image. “How accurate is the terrain?”

“Oh, it’s very accurate. Every square inch of Earth’s moon has been mapped again and again over the centuries, and that data isn’t classified.”

Allenby nodded. “Alright. That being the case then, if I were deciding where to put the security tower, I’d put it here.” He pointed to a spot on one side of the valley containing the mothballed ships. “From here, there’s a minimum of dead spots. Areas that are hidden from direct line-of-sight observation from the tower due to hills or ravines. If the Feds were smart when they built this site, that’s where they would have put the tower.”

“Okay, let’s assume they did put it there. How would you go about inserting a commando team to gain access to most of the ships you see there?”

“I’d have to see how much of the moon’s surrounding space is routinely scanned by radar or lidar,” said Allenby. Bentrik manipulated the controls set into one end of the table. The image zoomed out with cones of light emanating from the entire backside of the moon. Allenby was already shaking his head. “There are gaps in the lidar coverage, but they’re not big enough for a ship to sneak in without being detected. Not a normal spherical ship anyway.”

Bentrik and Augustin exchanged looks. “What hull design would be able to sneak in?” asked Bentrik.

“It would have to be something that isn’t round, at least in one dimension like a ship with flat sides.”

“Would a cone shape work?” asked Augustin. Allenby thought about that for a couple of seconds before answering. “Yes, if a conical hull were oriented so that any lidar beams were deflected away from the emitter, then that should work. Do you happen to have a conical hull ship?”

“As a matter of fact, we do,” said Bentrik slowly. “Let’s assume that a conical ship can get to this site undetected. Then what would you recommend happen next?”

“Hm. Well, the security tower is going to have to be neutralized somehow. Either the people in it are captured or killed, or the detection and communication equipment in the tower is knocked out. When any of these spherical ships take off, they’ll be easy to detect if the tower’s still operational. The easiest way to neutralize the tower, I suppose, is to bring the cone ship down on top of it and crush it.”

“Wouldn’t that damage the ship?” asked Bentrik.

Allenby shrugged. “That depends on how sturdy and rugged the ship’s hull is. What’s the purpose of the cone ship you have?”

Bentrik told him. Allenby laughed. “A ship designed for space combat should be rugged enough to crush the top of the tower. The tower probably wasn’t designed to resist hostile action. It’s most likely built to minimize cost and is just strong enough to keep the atmosphere in and meteorites out. Crush the tower, and it could be hours before anyone else suspects something has gone wrong. Is hijacking some ships the only thing you’re thinking of doing on this op?”

By now, Bentrik had a hint of a smile on his face. “Well, actually, there are two other things we’d like to do. One is to arrange it so that a bunker complex filled with fission and fusion warheads a few hundred miles away can’t be accessed or at least not easily by the Feds, and there’s a computer system at Federation Army-Navy HQ on Earth, that we’d like to render inoperable if possible.”

Allenby nodded, but he was looking at the holo image again. “And just to be clear, you’re not trying to hijack all the ships, right?”

“That’s correct, Major. We just don’t have enough trained crew to even just pilot all the ships somewhere else. That’s why we thought we’d change the activation codes on the ships we leave behind so that the Feds can’t use them against us later on.”

Allenby looked at Bentrik. “That won’t stop them for very long. If they have to, they’ll rip out the re-activation circuits and re-install new ones with the old codes. What about programming the autopilots to fly those extra ships into the sun after a delay that allows our people to get off? And as far as the warhead bunkers are concerned, it shouldn’t be that difficult to program at least one surplus ship and maybe more to fly a ballistic trajectory whereby they end in crashing into the bunker complex. They won’t have a lot of velocity, but their armored hulls contain a lot of mass. That’s going to do a lot of damage.” He paused and looked at the floor for a few seconds. “You know, this HQ complex in Canberra maybe should be a target too. It’s not like you’d be short of surplus warships, right? If several warships were programmed to crash into the HQ complex, they’d have plenty of velocity by the time they reach the target. Is this HQ near civilians?” Allenby looked at Bentrik, and he looked at Augustin.

“It’s on the outskirts of the city. As I recall, the nearest civilian housing is about half a mile away.”

“Perfect. The kinetic energy from those kamikaze ships should create a nice, deep crater where the HQ building is. The neighbors will be shaken up but nothing more so long as the autopilots are programmed with the precise coordinates.”

“What if the Fed Navy tried to intercept those ships?” asked Bentrik.

“I suppose that’s a possibility depending on what defenses Earth has in place. If the HQ is a high-value target, then send ten ships or twenty or hell, all of them! I doubt if they’d be able to stop them all.”

Augustin looked at Bentrik and saw that his expression was somber. He realizes just as I do that impacts from that many high-velocity crashes will devastate the area for miles around with concussion waves. Civilian deaths could run into the thousands.

“The basic idea is definitely worth considering, although I’m not sure how many ships we’d want to pound that target with,” said Augustin carefully.

Allenby nodded. “I hear you. Minimizing civilian casualties has to be considered. I get it. You’re going to need someone to lead this operation. I can do that, and I’m offering my services.” He was looking at Augustin, and when Augustin turned to look at Bentrik, Allenby shifted his focus too.

“You’ve been very helpful, Major. I understand that you’re making a living now as a guide for hunting parties on the southern continent?”

Allenby chuckled. “I guess you could call it that, making a living, that is. It’s keeping me from having to live on the streets begging for money, but I won’t be getting rich from it, and I won’t be able to do it forever.”

“No, of course not,” said Bentrik. “Here’s why I’m asking. If we go ahead with this operation, it’ll be months from now. And when it’s time to choose a leader, your name will be considered, but I can’t promise that you’ll be chosen. In the meantime, however, to show our appreciation for your good advice, my shipping company will put you on a retainer that won’t prevent you from continuing to provide guide services. You can spend the retainer or save it. If you’re chosen for this operation, there’ll be additional compensation. Naturally, it’s important that you say nothing to anyone about what you’ve seen, heard, or said here today. That’s very important.”

“Of course. I haven’t forgotten how to keep secrets,” said Allenby.

“Good. In that case, I think we’re done here for now. Make sure we know how to reach you before you leave the building. Thank you, Major.” Bentrik offered his hand, and Allenby shook it then shook Augustin’s before leaving the room.

When he was certain that Allenby couldn’t hear him, Augustin said, “He gave us some good ideas, but I don’t think we should crash more than five, ten ships at the very most on the HQ. I’m trying to protect civilians, not massacre them.”

Bentrik nodded as he sat down in one of the chairs. “I agree completely, although I suspect I have a different perspective on it than you do, Leonhard. I don’t like killing civilians either, but we also have to keep in mind the political ramifications of what we do. At the end of the fighting, there has to be recognition of the SSA by planetary governments, including Earth’s, and if we’ve killed hundreds of thousands of civilians in a surprise attack, that’s going to generate a lot of bad feelings that could backfire on us politically. Besides, I don’t think we’d need more than five or, as you say, ten at the most to get through any defenses. Do you know of any ground-based defenses near Canberra?”

“No, I don’t, and if there were any, I think I’d have heard about them. That means that if there are any defenses, they’d have to be in orbit, probably on the navy station. That would be a legitimate military target. We take that out first with ten or twenty kamikaze ships, and then two or three should be enough to render M2 unusable.”

“Not to mention decapitating the upper echelons of the Fed Army and Navy,” said Bentrik. “We owe it to Curtis to give him enough warning to get out of the way.”

“A freighter sent to Earth can deliver a message to Curtis, but if we do that, we’ll have to commit ourselves to carry out the operation on a specific day and another thing. This kind of operation will alert the Federation that a major rebel organization exists. Marduk is going to be at the top of the list of suspected sources of rebellion. Your shipping company will be getting a lot of scrutiny when Federation ships get here six months after the operation. Are you going to be ready by then? It’ll take six months just to get those battlecruisers back to Marduk and even longer to get to Tanith.”

Bentrik nodded. “I’m aware of the fact that until those ships are modified with the new jump drive, their usefulness is going to be limited. This sounds like the kind of problem that Merlin was made for. I think you should get back to Tanith as quickly as possible, Leonhard.”

Augustin sighed. He was just getting used to the Malverton nightlife, and now Aren wanted him to head back to the hinterland. But he was right. Merlin could evaluate alternative solutions that humans might not even think of. And it wasn’t as if Merlin was busy looking into something else now.

“Okay, Aren. I’ll go back. How soon can a ship take me there?”

“One of my medium freighters is scheduled to arrive tomorrow and can leave again in 24 hours. You’ve got two days to enjoy yourself.”

Augustin stood up. “I guess I’d better get started then, hadn’t I?” Bentrik laughed.

Chapter Twelve

Storisende, Poictesme, Day 181 of 876 A.E.

Simeon O’Brien waited on the roof of the tallest office building for half an hour before the aircar finally arrived. Its windows were polarized dark, but he knew who was inside. When the door lifted up, he didn’t hesitate to climb in.

“Took you long enough,” he said as he settled into the seat. The vehicle became airborne again before the door finished closing.

“I was unavoidably detained,” said Army Intelligence officer Captain Albus Kondratti. “Your note said you’ve found something interesting. What is it?”

“I missed this the first time around because I was too busy learning the ropes to notice, but when the next newly-built super-freighter came down from Koshchei, they didn’t just load consumables aboard her. They also modified her jump drive. It took them about three days to do it.”

“You sure they modified it? Maybe they just calibrated it or something?”

“Do you have a jump drive engineering background, Captain?” asked O’Brien.

“No, of course not. Why would an Army Intel officer have a jump drive engineering background?”

“Well, I do. That’s why Naval Intelligence recruited me as a civilian jump drive engineer, and I know what I’m talking about. I saw them take out parts of the jump drive that Koshchei had installed and put in parts that I didn’t recognize. I was able to find out where these new parts were stored and checked them. There are a lot more copies of those parts waiting to be used. I’ve never seen anything like them, so this has to be some kind of breakthrough.”

“Are they retrofitting it to the light cruisers, too?” asked Kondratti.

“No, they’re not.”

“Hm. Well, that is interesting, isn’t it? Anything else?”

“Isn’t that enough? I think a new FTL technology is pretty damn important!”

“Oh, it is. I’ll make sure my next report includes it, and if you have your own report ready, I’ll see to it that it gets to your NavInt handler on Earth. I take it then that there’s nothing else.”

“No. Here’s my report.” O’Brien handed a chip to Kondratti.

“Okay, where do you want me to drop you off?” asked Kondratti.

“The same roof where you picked me up. There’s a nightclub in that building, and if I was seen going in there, I want to be seen coming out of there.”

“That’s pretty smart thinking for an amateur spook. Okay, I’ll circle around. When do you have to be back at the volcano complex?”

“I head back tomorrow morning. I won’t be able to get back to Storisende for another month.”

“Got it. Alright, here you are.”

As soon as the aircar touched down, the door swung open, and O’Brien got out. He watched as the door closed and the aircar lifted off. He shook his head in dismay. If Kondratti was the best that Army Intelligence could send to Poictesme, then his opinion of ArmInt needed to be revised downward. It had been all too easy to convince Kondratti that he was a civilian engineer recruited by Naval Intelligence when the truth was that he was a trained NavInt officer with the rank of Commander who also happened to have an FTL engineering degree. His assessment of Kondratti was also in the encrypted report that he had handed over. Given how the previous ArmInt officer had simply disappeared months ago, he would have thought that Major Vincennes’ replacement would have been an experienced operative, but Kondratti acted as though this was his first off-world assignment. As he turned to head over to the elevator, he didn’t see the man on the roof of the office tower across the street.

Zareff put his electronic binoculars down and shook his head. O’Brien was clearly more than just a jump drive engineer looking for work. Zareff didn’t know who was in the aircar with him, but that person’s identity had to be discovered fast. It was unlikely that the two of them would meet like this just to pass the time. It was more likely that O’Brien had either passed on some information or had received instructions.

Zareff made sure he was on the 300-foot interplanetary craft that was doing shuttle duty between Storisende and the Barathrum complex the next morning. He watched from the ship’s Bridge as O’Brien came aboard. The ship took off a few minutes later with 44 souls on board. It landed 89 minutes later at the volcano complex with 43. O’Brien wasn’t one of them.

The planet didn’t have a name, and Bentrik understood why. The entire planet was covered with water except for one rocky plateau that ancient tectonic forces had thrust up above the surface. The plateau was barely flat enough to allow for some temporary structures and landing pads. Local conditions would be uncomfortable, but workers wouldn’t need special breathing gear or pressure suits. There was absolutely nothing about this planet that would entice anyone to live here permanently but its location only three weeks away from Terra via standard jump drive made its strategic value immense, which was why Merlin had chosen it. The hijack crews could load enough food to last them for the three weeks trip, and once the battlecruisers landed here, they’d be topped off with enough consumables to get the ships to Tanith after having their jump drives upgraded to the faster version. Additional crews would be waiting on Tanith to make the battlecruisers combat ready. When enough of them had arrived, the second war would begin. Bentrik was glad that he had decided to personally inspect this planet himself. The function it would serve was too important to risk on sketchy reports from explorers that had visited the planet centuries before. Setting up Site Y, as he had decided to call it, would take some time. But that was okay. Victory needed more than just a couple of dozen battlecruisers. Ground forces needed to be raised, equipped, and trained. Transportation for those ground forces needed to be in the right place at the right time, and the coup that would topple the corrupt, allegedly democratic government on Marduk had to be organized. The corvette, which up until now had been sitting in an open field on Tanith’s moon, needed to be modified to make room for the hijack crews and their equipment and supplies. It was easier to rip out the missile launch tubes and missile storage compartments than it was to build a new cone-shaped ship from scratch. There was lots to do, but at least now, the Organization had a tentative date for commencing active operations against the Federation. And in the meantime, Koshchei would continue to build sabotaged light cruisers for the Fed Navy. Thirteen down, seventy-six more to go, although Koshchei wouldn’t be able to complete the entire order of 89 light cruisers before hostilities resumed. But the more defective light cruisers there were out there, the better. Bentrik turned to the captain of the medium-sized company freighter that had brought him here.

“Okay, Captain. I’ve seen what I needed to see. Let’s head back to Marduk.”

Federation Navy HQ, Canberra, Australia, Day 10 of 877 A.E.

Captain Arlett opened the electronic file that had just arrived from Poictesme. It’s about time O’Brien sent in a report. On the other hand, it’s not his fault that it takes six months for each report to get here. The report wasn’t all that long, but the contents were stunning. If a Marduk-controlled company had breakthrough jump drive technology to upgrade their super-freighters, that strongly implied a secret organization since they were keeping that breakthrough a secret from everyone else. Arlett reread the section dealing with Albus Kondratti.

[Captain Kondratti does not seem to be taking his assignment seriously. He’s constantly late for our meetings and is sloppy when it comes to operational security. Either he’s being deliberately careless, or he’s incompetent. Given what happened to his predecessor on Poictesme, I have to wonder if ArmInt is more interested in covering up what’s going on here instead of bringing it to light. I intend to inform him of my observations regarding the jump drive upgrades before he passes on my report. If he files a report at the same time, it should include that information as well. I recommend that NavInt send someone to Poictesme to act as Kondratti’s counterpart, preferably without ArmInt’s knowledge, so that I have a backup way of getting my reports to you. I don’t trust Kondratti, and I wonder if NavInt can trust ArmInt.]

Arlett leaned back and took a deep breath. Naval Intelligence and Army Intelligence had never really trusted each other enough to be completely candid about covert matters. But so far as he knew, that lack of trust had never crossed over the line into working against each other. And since this situation had the potential to flare up into another civil war, the idea that ArmInt might be suppressing intelligence about a potential enemy was shocking. He told his electronic assistant to call Magilen.

“Hello, Sir. What can I do for you?” she asked.

“Can you speak freely, Francesca?”

“Hold on a minute, Sir, while I close my door…Okay. We can talk freely now, Sir.”

“I’ve just received a report from Commander O’Brien. I believe you know him?”

“I’ve met him once or twice, Sir.”

“He’s working undercover at the salvage shipyard complex on Poictesme. His report says that hyper-freighters built on Koshchei have their jump drives modified when they arrive at the Poictesme shipyard, ostensibly for topping up their food and water supplies. The light cruisers that are also being built for the Navy on Koshchei do not have their jump drives modified. The Commander is convinced that the modifications make the freighter faster and since the company is keeping this breakthrough technology secret, what does that tell you about the situation there, Francesca?”

“It tells me there’s a secret organization backing that company, Sir. Whatever profits they might be able to realize by having faster freighters than anyone else would pale in comparison with the royalties they would earn if they licensed that breakthrough tech to the rest of the Federation.”

“Yes, that was my conclusion too, but there’s more. As you know, ArmInt’s resident spook, Major Vincennes, disappeared under mysterious circumstances, and O’Brien says that her replacement, Captain Albus Kondratti, is either deliberately ignoring what’s going on there or is so incompetent that his assignment there raises questions about ArmInt’s real motivations. Have you noticed anything strange among the Army people there, Francesca?”

“As a matter of fact, I have, Sir. General Curtis and Captain Rachel Kwon have been acting strangely around each other. She closes the door when she visits the General in his office. That didn’t use to be the case, and no one else does it. I’ve seen them together in a private setting. I happened to be having dinner at the same restaurant that they were. They were in a booth at the back, and they were speaking in low voices, so I couldn’t make out what they were saying.”

She heard Arlett chuckle. “That doesn’t sound very mysterious to me. Romantic or sexual relations between a superior officer and a subordinate are against the regs, so naturally, they’re trying to be discrete. That kind of thing happens far more than the Army and Navy like to admit.”

“I don’t think that’s what is going on, Sir. I’ve seen officers involved with each other that way, and they can’t help but smile at each other, hold hands and laugh a lot. That’s not how Curtis and Kwon acted. No smiling. No holding hands and no laughing. They had serious expressions on their faces. After that dinner, I followed Kwon back to her office, where she worked for several more hours. I then followed her to the rear of the apartment building where General Curtis lives. I couldn’t see who she met with, but the meeting only lasted a few minutes and then she went home. If she wanted to meet Curtis clandestinely without being caught on the security cameras covering the front entrance, then meeting outside the rear entrance that would normally only be used by property management staff would be the way to do it, wouldn’t it, Sir?”

Arlett didn’t answer right away. You’re right. That doesn’t sound like two lovebirds. It sounds like two spooks engaged in something they don’t want anyone else to know about.

“Let’s assume for the moment that you’re right about the two of them not being lovers. In light of this new information from O’Brien, what conclusion suggests itself to you, Lieutenant?”

“Well, up until now, the worst-case scenario I kept coming up with was something illegal in terms of contraband or perhaps corporate espionage. But the secret tech breakthrough pretty much confirms our worst fears that there’s a secret rebel organization at work, and now I’m wondering if General Curtis and Captain Kwon are actually double agents working for the rebels! I know it sounds silly, but—” Arlett cut her off.

“I wish it did sound silly. Unfortunately, it’s a possibility that we can’t ignore.” He paused to organize his thoughts. “I’m not your superior now, but I can still make suggestions. All of M2’s analysis up to this point was based on a remote chance that a rebel organization did exist. I think Merlin should be asked what that probability is now given the jump drive breakthrough and the secrecy around it. With that answer in hand, I think M2 should then be asked what the chances are that the rebel organization has penetrated Army Intelligence and, hell, Naval Intelligence, too, while we’re at it. And finally, if the rebel organization exists and is building unarmed freighters on Koshchei, where does M2 think the rebels will get the armed warships they’ll need to resume hostilities? When you have the answers to those questions, I hope you’ll get them to me and only to me. Can I count on you to do that, Lieutenant?”

Magilen hesitated. What Arlett was asking was a violation of regulations. She might be a navy officer, but the fact that she was officially seconded to Army Intelligence meant that she had a duty to report to General Curtis and only to General Curtis. Passing on classified data to someone who wasn’t in her chain of command could seriously derail her career if it came to light.

“You can count on me, Sir,” she said finally.

“I was sure I could. Carry on, Lieutenant.”

It was later that evening when Arlett got the answers from Magilen. The probability that a rebel organization existed had gone up to 89%. If the rebels existed, then there was an 8% chance that Army Intelligence contained at least one double agent and a 14% chance that Naval Intelligence had at least one double agent. Arlett was shocked that the probability was almost double for the Navy versus the Army, but when he thought more about it, it made sense given that a new war would be fought mainly by naval forces.

The answer to the third question sent a chill up his spine. If Koshchei wasn’t building warships for the rebels, and as far as anyone knew, they weren’t, then the best place for the rebels to acquire warships was to hijack the mothballed ships sitting on the backside of the moon! Did the rebels even know the location of those ships? He suddenly remembered that the company that was building ships on Koshchei had also salvaged all the abandoned installations on Poictesme. Was it possible that information on the build-down of military forces after the war ended was stored in the M2 copy in the Third Fleet-Army Force Command complex? That didn’t seem likely because that complex was shut down before the decommissioning of the warships began. The memory of the Merlin version made Arlett groan out loud. NavInt had to assume that the rebels existed and had access to the Merlin machine. If they wanted to hijack mothballed ships, they’d need the re-activation codes. Did M2 have those codes in its memory? Arlett snorted. Of course, it did. M2 was considered the most secure computer for the storage of that kind of data. And who was in charge of M2?

“General Curtis,” whispered Arlett. Something jogged his memory. Curtis had praised Francesca for her work on a review of security procedures for all Army and Navy installations in the system, and that included the mothballed warship depot on the moon!

Accusing General Curtis of spying for a rebel organization, of which there was no conclusive proof of its existence, was out of the question. Arlett couldn’t think of any way to prevent the rebels from trying to hijack the warships, but there was a way to prevent them from actually doing it. The codes had to be changed. That was the responsibility of Admiral Margarete Christiansen as Chief of Naval Logistics. Protocol said that Arlett had to convince his superior, Admiral Niklas Hronek, Chief of Naval Intelligence, of the need to change the codes, and then Hronek would make the suggestion to Christiansen. At the very least, Hronek should be notified that Arlett wanted to make that suggestion to Christiansen directly. Arlett told his electronic assistant to contact Hronek.

“What is it, Hugh?” asked Hronek,

“Admiral, I’d like to make a formal request to Admiral Christiansen to have all the re-activation codes for the mothballed fleet changed, and I thought I’d get your approval first.”

“What makes you think those codes need changing?”

“The M2 machine has calculated an eighty-nine percent chance that there’s a rebel organization operating on Koshchei and Poictesme as well as a fourteen percent chance that they have a double agent in NavInt. It’s a long shot, I know, but if they do have an agent here, then getting those codes would enable them to hijack mothballed warships. I think that we should change them just to be on the safe side, Sir.”

“Fourteen percent chance of a double agent in NavInt? I find that hard to accept, Captain. I’ve never had as much faith in that electronic monstrosity as the Army people have. But there’s no harm in changing those codes. You have my approval to make the request. Anything else?”

“No, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

It was five days later when Arlett got a call from Christiansen.

“Captain Arlett speaking.”

“Captain, it’s Admiral Christiansen. I’m calling about your memo regarding the re-activation codes for the mothballed fleet. You don’t give a reason why and I’m curious as to what prompted you to make this request.”

Arlett had been expecting this kind of response. Revealing M2’s prediction that NavInt might have a double agent was the kind of thing that Admiral Hronek would want to keep within NavInt. And M2’s existence was not meant to be widely known within the Navy. Arlett wasn’t sure if Christiansen knew about M2 or not and decided to err on the side of caution.

“Well, Admiral, a review was done recently of the security precautions for all Navy and Army installations in the Sol system, and it occurred to me that because it’s been over twenty years since those ships were mothballed, maybe it’s time to change the codes?”

“Hm. I’m not sure I see why the old codes aren’t as secure now as they were when they were created but changing the codes will give the security people something to do besides play games when they’re on duty. I take it there’s no rush for this?”

Arlett wanted to say there was but knew he’d have to explain why and that would only create more problems. “No, Sir. No rush.”

Rivington spaceport, Tanith, ten days later:

Bentrik jumped out of the groundcar as it came to a stop near the shuttle that was waiting to take him and the others to the orbiting City of New Dresden freighter. His Aide got busy supervising the luggage bots that carried Bentrik’s gear to the shuttle. Bentrik took a last look around the spaceport. He was no longer just the CEO of an interstellar shipping company. Now he was Admiral Bentrik, commanding officer of the 1st Provisional Fleet of the New System States Alliance. The irony that the NSSA didn’t even have one planet in it yet was not lost on him. But that will change. As soon as the bulk of the Federation Navy is destroyed, General Allenby will execute the coup that will take control of Marduk. The other Phoenix Directors were aware of his plans to make himself King. They assumed that the Phoenix Council would be the real power behind the provisional government, and Allenby has allowed them to think that. When he’s ready, he’ll assume the mantle of leading the new government but only until I’ve crushed the Federation, and then my supporters will turn on him, and I’ll be declared the new King in a constitutional monarchy. He laughed at that phrase. When the people of Marduk heard that phrase, they would assume that it would be essentially the same kind of constitutional monarchy that existed up to the end of the first war. The King and his brother, who was also Bentrik’s biological father, had been killed by rioters during the chaos when it became obvious that the war was lost and the Alliance collapsed. But they would discover soon enough that the new constitutional monarchy would give the King a lot more authority and Bentrik planned to use that new authority to gradually gain even more until the King was once again not only the Head of State but also the Head of Government.

But first things first. Phase One was the hijacking of at least 12 battlecruisers that would be upgraded to the new jump drive technology at Site Y and then made fully combat operational at Tanith. Phase Two would be to split the fleet up into task forces that would escort freighters loaded with tanks to attack and hold key Federation naval bases in order to neutralize Fed Navy warships as they returned to their bases at the end of their patrols. And Phase Three would be the final assault of the Solar System by the bulk of his fleet. Merlin had planned it all out to the minutest detail.

Chapter Thirteen

Fleet Depot Bravo Security Tower, thirteen days later:

Lieutenant Maria Keller groaned as she read the duty shift log after relieving the two officers from the shift just finished.

“What is it, Maria? Do we have to replace a piece of equipment or something?” asked Lieutenant Jarko Haldane, her duty shift partner.

“No, this is worse. We’re supposed to start changing re-activation codes.”

“On how many ships?” asked Haldane.

“All of them. If each shift does two, which is about all that’ll get done, this will take weeks.”

“Shit! That means wearing a spacesuit for hours. I hate working outside. I know you’re senior to me and can order me to do this, but how about we take turns every other shift, and I’ll flip a coin to see who starts this shift?”

Keller gave him what she hoped was an evil smile. She didn’t particularly like Haldane, and while she could tolerate him for an eight-hour shift, she had no desire to share the burden of this task. “Nice try, Jarko, but we’re not flipping to see who goes first, and we’re not going to take turns. I don’t get the chance very often to pull seniority on you, so I’m not passing up this chance. You go out today and on every future shift. I suggest you start suiting up.”

The shocked expression on his face pleased her no end. She even didn’t mind listening to his grumbling as he got his spacesuit on and checked to make sure his tablet had the old codes. She found having the observation deck to herself for the entire shift quite relaxing. It occurred to her that she might get bored after a few shifts like this and that perhaps she might give him a break now and then just for something to do.

City of New Dresden hyper-freighter, Sol system, eight days later:

Bentrik stepped over to the astrogation station. “Show me where we are right now.” The Astrogator manipulated his console, and the answer appeared on the main display. The freighter was 100 light seconds from the Earth, approaching at a shallow angle above the ecliptic. The plan was to deploy the corvette and then continue on to an Earth orbit where cargo would be dropped off and picked up, and General Curtis could be warned. Bentrik turned to look at the ship’s captain.

“Any questions concerning the pickup rendezvous?”

“No, Admiral. We’ll be there in 24 hours.”

Bentrik nodded but was still a bit concerned. Dropping the corvette off was easy. It didn’t really matter where that happened because the corvette, which had been christened Phantom, could make its own way to the moon. The pickup was much more challenging. The hyper-freighter would show up on lidar and radar as it headed outbound in preparation for a jump to its next destination. Therefore, it couldn’t just stop and hover for hours without attracting unwanted attention. Phantom knew what the outbound trajectory would be, and if the operation on the ground was finished early enough, the corvette could slide into that same trajectory ahead of time so that the two ships would be in the same vicinity at the 24-hour mark. Phantom would orient itself to present its flat rear to the freighter’s projected approach vector. The freighter would be scanning with radar and hopefully detect the corvette, and a rendezvous would be arranged using low-powered microwaves. If the Phantom wasn’t able to get to the rendezvous area in time, the pickup would not take place, and the Phantom would be stuck in this system. Surrendering wasn’t an option. The captain and crew knew too much about Site Y and Tanith to allow them to be interrogated by Federation personnel. Therefore, if the rendezvous failed, the crew would take suicide capsules, and the Captain had secret orders to execute anyone who refused to take their capsule. Finding volunteers willing to make that ultimate sacrifice hadn’t been easy.

“Very good, Captain. Let’s get this operation on the road. I’ll expect to see you at Site Y in three weeks.”

“Good luck, Admiral. The Phoenix will rise!” The Captain saluted, and Bentrik returned the salute. He picked up his helmet that was sitting on the command station’s armrest and headed for the exit and the elevator that would take him to the cargo deck level. Most of the team were already aboard Phantom. Bentrik’s senior officers were waiting for him in the airlock. When he had his helmet on, the airlock was depressurized to allow access to the cavernous cargo bay that was kept in a vacuum at all times. At 800 feet high and 3,000 feet wide, it would have taken hours to pressurize and depressurize it.

With the airlock now depressurized, the hatch to the cargo hold slid open, and Bentrik led the way to the Phantom, which sat several hundred feet away. His gear and belongings had already been transferred to the tiny cabin aboard Phantom. Everyone else would have to share quarters. The modifications to the corvette made room for the 125 team members that would fly the hijacked ships, plus their gear and enough food and water for the trip to Site Y. They would use open topped contra-gravity vehicles to carry themselves and their cargo from Phantom to each of the target ships. Boarding Phantom meant another period of waiting as its airlock pressurized. With that done, they all took off their helmets. Bentrik stepped over to the intercom panel and called the Bridge.

“Bridge, Commander Raycraft.”

“It’s Admiral Bentrik. You’re cleared to launch, Commander.”

“Thank you, Admiral. Will you be joining us on the Bridge?”

“As soon as I get out of this spacesuit but don’t wait for me. Bentrik clear.”

As the group dispersed to their assigned quarters, they heard a shipwide announcement.

“CO to crew and passengers. We’re about to transition to internal gravity.” Bentrik stopped and grabbed hold of the handholds that had been placed at strategic intervals for just this purpose. The cargo hold had its own artificial gravity generated from within the deck plates. In order for the corvette to move with minimal effort, the gravity deck plates were turned off, and the corvette’s internal deck plates on each level had their gravity turned on at exactly the same instant, in theory. In practice, the timing was usually off by a fraction of a second, meaning twice the gravity or no gravity for a split second. Either one was sufficiently disorienting that a person could lose their balance if they weren’t holding onto something. This time, the discrepancy was barely noticeable. Now that the ship was no longer being held down, it rotated 90 degrees from its upright position to a horizontal position with the pointed bow facing the massive hatches that were already slowly opening. Because of the internal gravity of the ship, none of the crew or passengers noticed the ship’s rotation.

By the time Bentrik had taken off his spacesuit, stowed it away in his cabin, and reached the compact Bridge, the corvette was passing through the open cargo bay hatch into space. Once clear, it picked up velocity and swung around to a trajectory that would take it to Earth’s moon. Most of the trip was spent reviewing with all the team members, operations once the corvette reached the moon. As the Phantom approached the moon, Bentrik was once again in the relatively small bridge.

“Ten minutes until we reach Depot Bravo, Admiral,” said Raycraft.

“Have we been scanned by lidar yet?” asked Bentrik.

“We passed through lidar scanning beams, but we haven’t been detected,” said Raycraft.

“How do you know that for sure, Commander?”

“The lidar scans are like the beam from a lighthouse. It sweeps back and forth. If it detects something, it focuses on that object continuously. That hasn’t happened.” After a minute or so, Raycraft pointed to the tactical display.

“We’re coming up on Depot Bravo, Admiral. Lieutenant, switch to visual and go to max zoom.” The image on the relatively small main display switched to show the interior lights in the observation level of the security tower against the black background. The depot was on the side of the moon currently facing away from the sun and was therefore in complete darkness. Phantom was now also in the moon’s shadow.

“Stand by for hover,” ordered Raycraft.

“Standing by for hovering,” said the Helm Officer, whose name Bentrik couldn’t remember at the moment.

“Call out the altitude,” said Raycraft.

“One thousand feet…eight hundred…six hundred…four hundred…two hundred…one hundred feet. Hovering at one hundred feet.”

“Here we go. Rotate and descend,” ordered Raycraft.

Keller arrived on the bridge of the heavy cruiser Kursk and stepped over to the Engineering console. The light from her spacesuit’s spotlights cast eerie shadows, and she reminded herself for what seemed like the nth time that this ship, just like the others, was empty and that she was the only living thing on board since the interior was a complete vacuum. She turned on the keypad that she would use to unlock all the ship’s systems. With that ready, she looked at the tablet that was tied to her spacesuit to find the code for Kursk. After entering the 16-digit code, the Bridge lights came on, and the console in front of her activated.

“Bingo,” she said. She stepped over to the communication station and activated the connection that would relay her suit’s radio transmission to the security tower. “Okay, Jarko, Kursk has been brought back to life.”

“Roger that, LT. Nice of you to give me a day off.”

“Don’t get used to it, Jarko. I was bored and wanted something to do, but one shift of this will do me for a while.”

“Underst—.” The sudden cut off took Keller by surprise.

“Jarko?” There was no response. She called out his name again with no reply. It’s probably just a technical glitch. She returned to the Engineering console and instructed the computer to accept a new activation code. That involved a multi-step process that took several minutes before she was able to enter the new code. When the new code was accepted, the Bridge plunged into darkness again, and all instrumentation shut down. With the new code confirmed on her tablet, she headed back to the elevator that remained operational even if the rest of the ship’s systems were locked out. As she made her way down to the open hatch at the top of the boarding ramp, she checked her chronometer. If she headed back to the tower, she’d get there around mid-shift, which meant she could take the suit off, grab a meal and relax for a bit before donning the suit again and changing a second code. Yes, if I was really diligent, I could change three, maybe even four codes in a shift, but no one else is doing more than two per shift, so why should I? As she carefully walked down the boarding ramp, she tried calling the tower directly now that the ship’s collapsium armor was no longer blocking her suit’s radio transmissions.

“Jarko, are you receiving me? Over.” No response. With a shrug, she continued walking to the contra-gravity utility vehicle waiting at the bottom of the ramp. She climbed in and began piloting the vehicle back to the tower.

“Someone’s nearby and transmitting on low power, Admiral!” said the com technician. Bentrik suppressed the urge to curse. Phantom had just landed near the row of ships closest to the now crushed security tower.

“I want to talk to my people down at the hatch,” said Bentrik. The com technician manipulated his console, then turned to look at Bentrik and nodded.

“This is the Admiral. Jiri, are you there yet?”

“I’m here, Admiral.”

“Someone’s out there. It has to be one of the security people. Get weapons from the arms locker and take your team out there. Find that person and shut them up and I don’t care how you do it, just do it fast!”

“Understood, Sir. Rameriz, you and Tory get to the arms locker and bring back enough for the whole team. Handguns are preferred, but rifles will do if that’s all there is. Get going.”

“I’m on my way down there now, Jiri,” said Bentrik. As he walked quickly to the exit, he said, “Keep monitoring frequencies and let me know if anyone else responds to these messages.”

“Will do, Admiral,” said Raycraft.

Bentrik’s fists were clenched as he rode the elevator down to the lowest level. If that person out there managed to contact another installation and sound the alarm, the whole operation would have to be aborted. And with one hijack attempt to tip the Feds off, security at this site would be beefed up. The entire Plan could be jeopardized!

Captain Siegel and his armed team were suited up and armed by the time Bentrik got to the airlock. Bentrik had already decided that he should have ordered the other captains to get their teams suited up and armed too. That security person could be anywhere in the depot field that covered a large area. He noted with approval that a couple of the other captains were already doing that on their own initiative. Siegel and his team were entering the airlock that would give them access to the cargo hold where they could make use of contra-gravity vehicles that would allow them to cover ground quickly. By the time they were through the airlock, and it was pressurized again, another team would be ready to go.

Keller paid attention to her piloting as the vehicle passed the row of ships closest to the tower. She killed all forward motion and made the vehicle hover when she saw the cone-shaped ship sitting on the ground about half a mile away. She shifted her focus to where the tower should have been and was shocked when she saw that it wasn’t there anymore. Correction. The base of the tower was still there but not the observation platform. Oh God, this has to be some kind of hijacking operation! I’ve got to sound the alarm! She switched her internal com system to the emergency frequency and boosted signal strength to maximum.

“Mayday! Mayday! This is Lieutenant Maria Keller at Fleet Depot Bravo! A hijacking operation is in progress! Can anyone hear me?” She counted to ten to see if there was a reply. Just as she was about to try again, she heard a voice.

“This is Depot Alpha! We hear you, Keller. We’re passing your mayday to HQ! Stay off the frequency to keep your location secret. Alpha out.”

She was somewhat surprised by the order to keep quiet when what she really wanted to do was describe what she was seeing so that the units responding would know what to expect. As she turned back to look at the conical ship again, she noticed movement from the reflection of her suit lights. Shit! If I can see them, then they can see me! She turned off her lights and got her vehicle moving in a curve to go back the way she came in order to put at least one mothballed ship between her and the hijackers.

“Siegel’s team has spotted her, Admiral!” Bentrik recognized Raycraft’s voice over the intercom. “They’re in pursuit!” Bentrik finished putting on his spacesuit in time to join the next hijack crew in the airlock. He needed to get out there to assess the situation and coordinate the search. The depressurization seemed to take forever. When it was complete, Bentrik led the crew into the cargo bay and over to the nearest contra-gravity cargo vehicle. The captain of that crew took the controls with Bentrik beside and the others in the back. There were three crews now out and searching. More were ready, but the bottleneck was the small airlock that could only accommodate half a dozen people at one time.

Keller’s heart was pounding fast from the adrenaline that was surging into her bloodstream. She set her suit’s radio to scan all frequencies and quickly found the one the hijackers were using to communicate among themselves. It sounded like there were a lot of them. She had to assume that their contra-gravity vehicles were just as fast as hers, which mean it was only a matter of time before they caught up to her somewhere in this field of ships. With help on the way, she had to find a place to hide, and that meant in one of the mothballed ships. She set the vehicle controls to automatic and jumped off just as the vehicle was passing the boarding ramp of one of the battlecruisers. She misjudged the landing and ended up rolling in the lunar dust but quickly got to her feet and ran up the boarding ramp. A battlecruiser had lots of places where she could hide. Even if they saw her enter the ship, it would still take them hours to search every compartment, nook, and cranny in a ship that size.

Bentrik heard Raycraft’s voice over his suit radio again. “Admiral, Captain Siegel says his people have spotted her boarding one of the battlecruisers. Searching that ship could take hours before she’s found.”

Bentrik thought fast. “We don’t need to find her. Tell Siegel to have his team secure that battlecruiser with people on the Bridge and at the top of the ramp. When we’re ready, we’ll take that ship with the officer on board. She’ll either come out during the trip and surrender from lack of food, or she’ll starve, and we’ll find the body when the ship gets to Site Y.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Keller stopped hearing any radio transmissions the second she passed through the open airlock at the top of the boarding ramp into the ship’s interior. The hull’s collapsed matter armor blocked all EM radiation completely. That meant she wouldn’t know when it would be safe to leave the ship after the cavalry arrived but changing her mind now and leaving the ship again was out of the question. She decided to head for the ship’s Arms Locker to see if there were any weapons still on board. Once she had determined the answer to that question, she would look for a place in Main Engineering. There should be lots of out-of-the-way corners where she could hide.

The Arms Locker was a disappointment. It was unlocked and completely empty. As she came up to the central core elevator to take it back down to the engineering level, she saw that it was now coming back up after someone called it down to the boarding level. It seemed unlikely that the help had arrived so quickly, so the elevator had to be carrying hijackers, and it was possible that they might want to check the Arms Locker to see if she had armed herself. There were access tubes that connected the various levels of the ship for use in case the main elevator was busy or non-functional. She headed for the neared access tube, intending to climb down to Main Engineering.

Siegel was the first to leave the elevator when it arrived at the top level where the Bridge and senior officers’ quarters were. Behind him came his Astrogation Officer. The XO and Engineering Officer was standing guard at the boarding ramp airlock to make sure the security person didn’t escape. It only took a couple of minutes to enter the re-activate code for this ship, which the Fed Navy had christened Bismark Sea. With all key systems now powered up, Siegel activated the inner hatch of the boarding ramp airlock to close it so that atmosphere could be released into the now airtight hull. He then checked life support systems with the intention of opening the air storage tanks and stared in shock at the readouts that showed those tanks to be completely empty. A quick calculation told him why. The internal volume of a 1500-foot sphere was so large that the storage tanks could not possibly store enough compressed air to refill the whole ship. Their purpose was to replace air lost in decompression as a result of combat to a limited extent. It occurred to him that what the Navy had done when the ship had landed here was to open the airlock and let all the air out. If the ship had to be re-activated, it would have been simple for a small crew wearing spacesuits to fly the ship to Earth, and when it was near the surface, they would open the airlock and let atmospheric pressure repressurize the ship. Siegel didn’t see how his crew could do that without risking being fired on by Fed Navy ships and Army ground defenses. And their spacesuits would not be able to keep them alive for the three-week trip to Site Y. The Admiral would have to resolve this dilemma. He turned to look at the AO who was temporarily manning the communication station.

“Jock, set up a comm. link with the Admiral. I have some bad news for him.”

“Siegel is calling from the Bismark Sea, Admiral,” said Raycraft.

“Put him through, Captain.”

“Admiral, we’ve secured the Bismark Sea. The boarding airlock is closed and is being watched. My AO and I are on the Bridge. The location of Lt. Keller is unknown, but she’s hiding somewhere on the ship. That’s a minor problem compared to what I’ve just discovered, Admiral.” Siegel went on to explain the problem with the air tanks.

Bentrik wanted to slap his forehead in disgust at having overlooked such a now obvious complication but couldn’t because of the helmet he was wearing. He was no longer worried about Maria Keller. The bogus reply from Depot Alpha seemed to have accomplished its purpose in shutting her up and Phantom’s com station had confirmed that none of the other Navy installations had raised the alarm. If dipping into Earth’s atmosphere to pressurize the ships was too risky, then was there another source of breathable air relatively nearby? He didn’t think so but decided he needed to speak to an expert.

“Let me talk to your AO, Jiri.”

“Yes, Sir. You heard, Lars?”

“Yes, Captain. What do you need, Admiral?”

“I need an alternate source of breathable air that doesn’t put our ships at point-blank range of Fed defenses.” There was a short pause before he heard the AO’s reply.

“Mars’ atmosphere isn’t suitable. Venus is no good, None of the gas giants’ moons are any good. Sorry, Admiral. I can’t see any alternative.”

“Then we’re screwed,” said Bentrik. He resisted the obvious next move, which would be to abort the whole mission. Giving that order would effectively doom the whole Plan. Just as he opened his mouth to give the order, he heard the Astrogator’s voice.

“Ah, there might be another way to do this, Admiral. The autopilots on these warships were pretty sophisticated. I might be able to program Bismark Sea’s autopilot to lift off, head out on a heading for a jump to Site Y’s star system, initiate the jump once the ship gets past the no-jump zone and when it arrives at the other system, to drop into a parking orbit around Site Y, all without any human supervision. But even if I can program all that, I can’t guarantee that it will do all those tasks perfectly. There will still be a chance that the ship ends up drifting in deep space or falling into Site Y’s sun. But if it does end up in orbit around Site Y, we can then board it again and bring it down to the surface to pressurize there.”

“And we can try this with the other ships too?” asked Bentrik.

“If we can do it at all, we should be able to do with other ships too, Sir.”

The thought popped into Bentrik’s head. If they could hijack one warship without putting anyone on board, then theoretically, they could hijack all the mothballed ships and return via Phantom and City of New Dresden.

“And would I be correct in thinking that programming an autopilot to crash into Depot Alpha and into Fed Army HQ on Earth is doable too?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m sure we can do that.”

“Excellent. Then this is what I want done. Jiri, are you still on the line?”

“Still here, Admiral.”

“Okay. Astro, I want you to go ahead and program that ship’s autopilot for an unmanned trip to Site Y to see if it can be done at all. If it can, then change the activation code so that Lieutenant Keller can’t power up the comm. system and sound the alarm. When that’s done, I want you two to meet the rest of the crews at the bottom of the boarding ramp. Jiri, I want you to assign someone to watch the airlock to make sure Keller can’t get off that ship. When the other crews meet you at the bottom of the ramp, your AO will lead the other AOs to another ship to show them how to program the jump to Site Y. The autopilot will have to have a time delay before implementing the programming. I assume that’s possible?”

“Yes, Sir,” said the AO.

“Fine. One more question. Can someone who hasn’t been trained as an AO program an autopilot by himself?”

“As long as he follows the same steps in the same order, that should work, Sir.”

“Then, after you’ve shown the other AOs how to program the flight, they will show every member of the other crews, including the captains, how to do it. With a little luck, we just might be able to hijack every ship here, including those troopships, except for the kamikazes if there’s time. Any questions?”

“No questions, Admiral,” said Siegel.

“No questions, Sir,” said the AO.

“Very good. I’ll head back to Phantom and keep track of which ship has been programmed to do what. So make sure everyone knows to call in the name of the ship that they’ve programmed. Jock, I’m putting you in charge of seeing to it that the kamikazes are programmed properly. I want all ship autopilots to begin executing their instructions twelve hours from now. That should give us plenty of time to finish the programming and be back at the rendezvous before City of New Dresden gets there. Carry on.”

Things seemed to be moving smoothly for about half an hour, and then Bentrik received the bad news. Some of the re-activation codes had been changed. And what was even worse was that the ships checked so far where the codes had been changed were battlecruisers. Because Bismarck Sea’s code hadn’t been changed, that left hope that the number that had, would be small. But the implication that some of the warships would be left behind and would be available to the Fed Navy was disturbing. Merlin’s battle plan was predicated on the assumption that none of the mothballed warships would be available to the Fed Navy either because the majority had been programmed to fly into the sun as was the original idea or that they arrived at Site Y. If his fleet now had to contend with an enemy force that included at least some battlecruisers, Merlin’s plan would have to be re-calculated and was bound to reflect a higher degree of risk and therefore of failure. There was one possible way to gain control of all the warships. Lieutenant Keller had to have a record on her of the new codes since that was apparently what she was doing when Phantom arrived. If she could be captured and it didn’t matter whether she was captured alive or dead, and if there was enough time left to re-activate and program the ships with the changed codes, then the plan could move forward.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” said Bentrik to Raycraft. “When we’ve programmed as many warships as we can with the codes we have now, depending on how much time is left, I’m going to bring all the crews to the Bismarck Sea and have them search the damn ship for Keller.”

“She might show up before then, Admiral, depending on how long the power and air in her suit last.”

Bentrik nodded but did not reply.

Curtis arrived at his office to find a courier package with markings that showed it had been sent from Marduk. He assumed it was another message from the two officers sent to Marduk, but when he applied that appropriate decryption key to the contents, the results were still gibberish. It has to be from the rebels! He quickly applied his private decryption key and read the short message.

[Federation Army/Navy HQ will be attacked within 6 hours of your receiving this message. The exact timing is uncertain. Leave the building as soon as you can. The City of New Dresden currently in orbit will bring you to Marduk. If you stay on Earth, your involvement might be revealed in the aftermath of the attack. Pack only what you don’t want to leave behind. Augustin sends his regards. You’ll be welcome here.]

Curtis felt a chill go down his spine. This was the moment he had dreaded. Whatever actions he had taken in the past in support of the rebels could be mitigated if he changed his mind but leaving Earth was an irrevocable act with no way back. And if he stayed, should he leave the building with possible negative consequences afterward, or was staying in the building and taking his chances the best thing to do? And what about Rachel Kwon? At the very least, she should be warned about the attack. He told his computer to call her office.

“Good morning, General. What do you need?”

“Come to my office, Rachel.”

When she arrived, she closed his office door.

“Have a seat,” said Curtis. When she sat down, he handed her the decrypted message. Her face lost all its color as she read it.

“My God. What do we do?” she asked as she handed the message back.

“I haven’t decided what I’m going to do, but I do know what I want you to do. Leave the building right now and stay away for twenty-four hours. I’ll have the computer notify Personnel that you’ve told me that you’re feeling sick and that I’ve told you to go home.”

Kwon closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t think I can do that, General. It would feel like deserting my unit during a battle. I know what we’ve done; what I’ve done would be considered treason if anyone found out but leaving everyone else, including my friends, to face that danger while I’m safe would be crossing a line in my mind that I won’t cross.”

Curtis didn’t respond right away. Her desire to face the coming danger along with those who she still considered her brothers and sisters in the Army struck a chord in his conscience. She’s right, dammit. I can’t leave and run away to Marduk. But she doesn’t deserve to die here today. Maybe there’s a way I can save her life in spite of her devotion.

“I understand. I could order you to leave, but that might bring unwanted attention to you afterward. So, this is what we’ll do. We’ll both stay in the building the way we normally would if we didn’t know about this. When you get back to your office, I want you to check when City of New Dresden arrived in orbit and send that data to me. You do realize that you can’t make any kind of final arrangements or send final messages to family, friends, etc. If you did, and it was discovered that you had foreknowledge of the attack, you’d be declared a traitor or enemy agent, and that would affect those who you care about. If you want them to think of you as a loyal Federation Army officer who died in the performance of her duty, then you have to resist the impulse to say good-bye.”

“Yes, Sir. I see that now that you’ve pointed it out to me. Thank you for that, Sir.”

“You’re welcome, Rachel. You can head back to your office now. And if I don’t have another chance to say this later, I’ll tell you now that I have the highest regard for your decision to help me. It’s been an honor working with you.”

“Thank you, Sir. I feel the same way towards you.” She stood up and saluted. Curtis returned the salute and watched her leave.

Keller woke up with a start as the computer in her spacesuit started giving her warning messages about the remaining air supply. She checked her suit’s chronometer. Almost four hours had passed since she hid in Engineering. Suffocating to death when there was a possibility that Navy personnel had arrived and had captured the hijackers was not something she was prepared to endure. She got up and headed for the elevator that would take her down to the boarding level. When she got to the airlock, she saw that both the inner and outer hatches were still open. She stepped through the airlock and past the outer hatch to the top of the boarding ramp. A quick look around revealed a space-suited figure looking at her from the bottom of the ramp. It waved to her. Her impulse was to wave back, but she hesitated when she realized that the spacesuit didn’t have any Navy identification patches or insignia. For a few seconds, she was frozen with indecision. If she turned to re-enter the ship, she wouldn’t have much of a lead, and her oxygen would run out in less than 15 minutes. Running down the ramp and trying to escape that way was futile. The fact was that there was no escape. But there was something she could do to thwart the hijackers. Her tablet containing the old codes and the new codes was still hooked to her suit. If she hurried, she might be able to delete that data. She grabbed the tablet and was about to manipulate it when a bullet smashed its way into her helmet and passed through her brain.

“WE GOT HER!” Bentrik jumped in surprise at the sudden shout coming through the Bridge loudspeakers. “She tried to do something with her tablet, probably trying to delete the codes, but I shot her before she could touch it!”

Bentrik wasn’t sure who was talking, but it didn’t matter. He knew it was someone from Siegel’s crew. “This is the Admiral. Very good. Bring that tablet back to Phantom.”

“Yes, Sir! Ah, what about the body, Admiral?”

“We’ll deal with it later. Carry on.”

With the tablet in hand ten minutes later, Phantom’s AO was able to retrieve the data identifying which ships had their codes changed and what the new codes were. Bentrik checked the time. There were only 144 minutes left before the 12-hour deadline was up, and Phantom had to leave at least 21 minutes prior to that in order to get to the rendezvous before City of New Dresden did. The process of programming ships that hadn’t had their codes changed was taking longer than Bentrik had hoped. At the rate they were going, they wouldn’t be able to program all the warships before the 12-hour deadline, and extending the deadline wasn’t practical either. Whatever extra time a new deadline would give them would be used up changing the launch time for the ships that had already been programmed. The only benefit the tablet’s data gave Bentrik was the knowledge about which warships had new codes, and that meant his people could concentrate on the battlecruisers that had new codes, even if that meant not getting around to programming all of the heavy cruisers.

Two hours later, the last member of the hijack teams was back onboard Phantom, which had lifted off and was making its way to the rendezvous trajectory. Bentrik wasn’t entirely happy with the results. While all 24 battlecruisers had been programmed to jump to Site Y, only 54 out of the 77 heavy cruisers had been programmed, and a dozen of those had been programmed for kamikaze missions. That left 42 that might make it to Site Y. It also meant that 23 would still be available to the Federation Navy. And while all the battlecruisers still had missiles armed with fission warheads on board, as did some but not all of the heavy cruisers, it was not possible to program a ship to fire a missile without having someone aboard to handle the tactical station controls. So, nuking the remaining heavy cruisers and all of the military transports left behind was not possible. He had to keep reminding himself that they had narrowly averted the crisis of not being able to hijack any warship. And having an almost 4:1 numerical superiority in warships as well as a roughly 7:2 ratio in ship tonnage was definitely an advantage worth having. But the key, of course, was how many of the programmed ships would actually make it to the Site Y system. Siegel’s AO had been prescient enough to make sure that each ship was programmed to turn on its transponder when it arrived in the Site Y system, so even if the ship was unable to find its way into orbit around the planet, it could still be retrieved if its transponder was working and if it hadn’t plunged into that system’s sun. All things considered, the outcome could have been a lot worse.

Curtis checked the time and saw that it was almost noon. He left his office, and as he walked down the corridor of offices of the M2 Section staff, he said in a loud voice, “I’ve decided that the entire section is going out for a working lunch, and I’ll pick up the tab. So, stop whatever you’re doing and gather at the door.” He stopped when he came to Rachel’s office. Her expression was one of surprise and puzzlement. “Let’s go, Captain,” said Curtis.

“I, ah, have a lot to do, General,” she said in a halting voice.

Curtis shook his head. “No, you don’t. This lunch is not optional. I’m ordering you to come with us right now.” As he turned his attention back to the door where people were already starting to gather, he saw Magilen looking at him with a strange expression on her face.

“Are we celebrating something?” asked Magilen.

Curtis smiled and shook his head. “No, Lieutenant. I just felt that it was time to get the entire team together in a non-working environment. We’ve all been working damn hard lately, and morale has suffered. We need to blow off some steam.”

“At a working lunch?” she asked.

Curtis laughed. “Officially, yes. But, unofficially, I won’t mind if we don’t actually get any work done during this lunch.”

Kwon came up to Curtis, who nodded to her and looked around. “I think this is everybody. Let’s go.” As the group started leaving the room, Kwon touched Curtis’s arm. He turned to look at her.

“That ship you asked me to check on?”

“Yes?”

“It left orbit half an hour ago, Sir.”

Curtis nodded but said nothing. As he started to follow the rest of the group through the door, he heard Kwon’s voice again.

“I just remembered something I wanted to bring with me. I’ll catch up with all of you at the main entrance, okay, General?”

“Make sure you do, Rachel.”

“Yes, Sir.”

By the time that Curtis had taken the elevator down to the main floor and reached the entrance, the rest of the group was already outside waiting for him. As he came out, he said, “Hold up for a minute while we wait for Captain Kwon to catch up.” He was about to say something else when he heard the attack siren that had only ever been used in drills. He looked up and saw several dots that were rapidly becoming bigger and seemed to be headed straight for him! Fuck! This is it!

“EVERYBODY! RUN!” he yelled. He took a step forward then stopped to look behind him at the transparent main entrance doors. He saw Rachel running toward him. The main doors slid aside just in time for her to burst through the opening. As she caught up to him, he started running after the others as they tried to get as far away from the building as possible.

Magilen looked back as she ran and saw the General and Rachel Kwon running. Before she could turn back around, her peripheral vision picked up something big and black that crashed into the building so fast she would have missed it by blinking.

The concussion wave was so powerful, it knocked Curtis and Kwon off their feet. Kwon couldn’t believe how loud the sound of the impact was. Two seconds later, the second heavy cruiser hit the large complex at a slightly different spot with another concussion wave. Kwon had just enough time to look back and see a large piece of debris that had been flung up and outward by the impact, coming right at her and the General. She didn’t even have time to scream.

Chapter Fourteen

Two days later:

Magilen woke up and realized that she was in a hospital. She tried to move her head but couldn’t due to the restraints. Her arms and legs were also restrained, and attempting to move them caused pain. A woman’s face came into her field of vision.

“You’re awake. That’s good. I’m Doctor Julie Konidas. How do you feel, Lieutenant?”

“Like shit,” she said in a whisper.

“Not surprising. You have lots of broken bones from debris impacts along with internal injuries that we think we’ve taken care of. You’re lucky to be alive at all. People further away from the impact zone weren’t so lucky. It’s been 36 hours since the attack on the HQ. Search parties are still looking for survivors in the rubble but so far, no luck. It’s entirely possible that you might be the only one.”

“Who…attacked us?”

The doctor shrugged. “There are all kinds of rumors, but no one knows for sure. The Federation Council has been in almost continuous emergency session since the attack. The entire command structure of the Army and Navy seems to have been wiped out. Apparently, whoever was behind the attack also managed to hijack most of the mothballed warships that were stored on the backside of the moon. My money’s on SSA rebels, but what do I know. I’m just a doctor at the military hospital.”

“Did General Curtis survive?”

“No. As far as we know, you’re the only one and only because some of the falling debris fell across you in such a way that it blocked other debris from hitting you. I’ve been to the impact site. If you didn’t know what actually happened there, you’d swear the place had been nuked. The navy station in orbit got hit too. Luckily most of the pieces that fell to Earth hit the oceans.” She paused, and when Magilen didn’t say anything, Konidas continued. “The good news is that you’re going to recover the full use of your arms and legs. The head restraint is just a precaution against damage to your neck, but the x-rays didn’t show any fractures. The bad news is that your recovery is going to be long and will require weeks, maybe months of physical therapy. Any questions?”

“No.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Yes.”

“To be expected. I’ll see to it that the nurses give you something for it. I’ll check on you again in a few hours.”

12 hours later:

Captain Cornelia Granger and General Glenn Santander were shown into the Federation President’s inner office to find President Catherine DeChastelaine getting up from her chair behind the largest desk that Granger had ever seen.

“Come in,” said DeChastelaine. “Let’s sit over here where it’s more comfortable.” She pointed to the plush chairs arranged around a low coffee table. Both Granger and Santander waited until the President was seated before taking their seats. Granger took a good look at DeChastelaine’s face. It looked haggard and tired. No wonder. She’s just had the biggest military disaster in the Federation’s entire history dumped into her lap. Nothing like this even happened during the war, at least not in the Sol system.

DeChastelaine leaned back and took a deep breath before speaking. “If you’re wondering why you two were told to come here, it’s because, at this moment, the two of you are the most senior Navy and Army officers left in the entire system. I know that sounds incredible, but it’s true as far as we know. In the Navy’s case, there are flag officers who are currently commanding bases in other systems, and they will be recalled as soon as ships can be sent there. But for the time being, someone has to be in charge of the Navy, or what’s left of it here in this system. That someone is you, Captain Granger. As of this minute, you’re being bumped on an acting basis to Vice-Admiral, and you’ll be the Acting Chief of Naval Operations.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

DeChastelaine shook her head. “Don’t thank me just yet, Admiral. You’ve now got a mountain of responsibility on your shoulders with literally no command structure to help you carry it out. I would suspect that when another flag officer arrives to take that mountain off your shoulders, you’ll be glad to give up the rank and position. But don’t feel too badly about that because there are a lot of holes in the Navy hierarchy that need filling, and you’ll be filling one of them, and it probably won’t be as just a captain.” DeChastelaine turned her attention to Santander.

“And you, General, are now the Acting Chief of Army Operations with two more temporary stars on your collar. In your case, there are other generals on Earth, but you get the nod due to seniority. There are no more senior Army officers in any other star system, so you’re stuck with the job, I’m afraid. The reason why the promotion to 3-star rank is only temporary is that the Grand Council and I want more time to consider whether to make it permanent or not. Having said that, unless you fuck up really badly, you will be confirmed in both the promotion and the job. At least you have a cadre of officers currently assigned to Army units to draw from to build the HQ staff. The problems both of you will face include, among other things, a lack of records. All the personnel and logistical records in the HQ building were destroyed. Just getting military personnel, who are still alive, paid is going to be a huge headache. I don’t think the troops currently garrisoned on Earth are going to be needed elsewhere right now, but that possibility should be kept at the back of your mind.”

She paused to organize her thoughts before continuing. “The big question everyone is asking is who did this to us? At the moment, we don’t know with any degree of certainty. However, given that the attack on the HQ building coincided with the hijacking of most of our mothballed warships, I can’t conceive of any possible scenario other than SSA rebels being behind all this. Why they didn’t hijack all the ships stored on the backside of the moon, we don’t know yet. The ships that are left have to be re-activated and re-commissioned asap. I know that finding crews for them without any personnel records is going to be a bitch of a job, but it’s a job that has to be done somehow. In addition, I think you’ll agree with me, Admiral Granger, that our bases have to be informed of this attack and that the ships that are performing routine patrolling duties may have to be re-deployed. As you probably know, the navy station in geosynchronous orbit has been destroyed. What you may not know yet is that the installation on the moon where nuclear warheads were stored was also hit by multiple hijacked ships programmed to crash into it. Luckily none of the warheads detonated but the surface structure is so badly damaged that gaining access to the lower levels to check on the status of the warheads is going to take a lot of effort and time. You’ll have to coordinate that effort as well. Perhaps the Army can provide engineers to assist the Navy in this. General Santander, I’d like you to give Admiral Granger whatever assistance you can. This is no time for the traditional Navy/Army rivalry to get in the way. Is that understood by both of you?”

Granger and Santander replied in the affirmative.

“Good. My staff will give both of you whatever administrative assistance it can. I think we’re done for now, but I’m sure I’ll be meeting with both of you either together or separately again soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do have other things to attend to.”

Granger waited until she and Santander were in the corridor on their way out before turning to the General. “Do you have any idea of how we’re going to cope with this disaster?”

“Not a goddamned clue. I’m tempted to request early retirement, but I’m certain the President wouldn’t grant it.”

Site Y, 22 days later:

Bentrik climbed into the modular building that was serving as the Command Post with a sigh of relief. With no geological features like mountains to slow winds down, the plateau was a windy place, and especially so today. His worst fear was being blown clear off the plateau from a height that was high enough to be dangerous, not to mention that the ocean was teeming with lifeforms, some of which seemed to eat anything they could find. At least ships resting on the plateau were safe from the winds, and he had just come from City of New Dresden. Siegel was waiting for him.

“We’re picking up transponder signals, Admiral. Seven so far, with another being detected every few seconds.”

Bentrik nodded. Since all the programmed warships had taken off literally at the same time, they should theoretically arrive at the edge of this system’s no-jump zone at the same time too. The fact that the nearest edge of the sun’s no-jump zone was over 55 light seconds away meant that the transponder signal from a ship arriving there would take a minute or so to reach the planet. It was already becoming clear, though, that while the ships may have emerged from jumpspace at the same time, they didn’t emerge at the same place. Tiny calibration errors in their individual astrogational computers meant there was a wide dispersal to the emergence points. And Siegel’s AO was of the opinion that there was a good chance at least one ship would hit the no-jump zone while still in jumpspace and get bounced further away as a result, plus the remote possibility that some ships wouldn’t even reach the Site Y system at all.

“What’s the breakdown so far?” asked Bentrik.

“Two battlecruisers, five heavies, no, make that six heavy cruisers now, Sir.”

“And how long until they reach orbit?”

“Assuming they don’t crash into the ocean,” Bentrik winced at the thought, “they should enter some kind of orbit in another nineteen hours or so. We should have a pretty good idea of where they all are by then. And any that look like they’ll miss orbit altogether can be intercepted by Phantom and the two interplanetary craft New Dresden brought along, Sir.”

No one had considered that the astrogational calibration errors might be large enough that a ship would hit the planet instead of dropping into orbit until Siegel’s AO had mentioned that possibility on the way to Site Y. The possibility that a crashing ship would hit the plateau was so remote that Bentrik didn’t even give it any further thought. It was the loss of one or more ships that bothered him. There was a remote possibility that a crashed ship would eventually float back up to the surface, depending on how much mass all the internal bulkheads, equipment, and cargo it carried weighed. If a hyper-freighter like City of New Dresden crashed, it would definitely float back up, but the warship’s collapsium armor was so heavy that it might offset whatever buoyancy the ship would otherwise have. The other possibility was a ship crashing close enough to the plateau that the impact would generate a tsunami wave high enough to crash over the top of the plateau, sweeping away everything in its path. That possibility appeared to be remote since Bentrik’s launch deadline had, by sheer luck, timed the arrivals so that the plateau would be halfway around the planet by the time the ships reached it. In hindsight, the whole operation could have been planned better, Bentrik thought.

It was half an hour later when it appeared that they had a final count of all the transponders that they were going to detect. Three of the 24 battlecruisers had not arrived at all. Five of the rest would miss orbit, and two looked as though they were going to crash into the oceans. Of the 42 heavy cruisers that had taken off, five never arrived, six would miss orbit, and eight would hit the planet. That left 19 battlecruisers and 29 heavy cruisers that could be recovered.

“This one’s going to be problematic, Admiral,” said the AO pointing to the display. “Its trajectory will eventually take it into the sun’s gravity field, and the sun will pull it in. We have a limited amount of time to recover her.”

“What is she?” asked Bentrik.

“The battlecruiser Normandy.”

Bentrik turned to Raycraft. “That’s your first mission, Captain. Take Captain Siegel and his team. Leave now.”

“Yes, Sir. We’ll save her, Admiral.”

Siegel stood next to Raycraft as Phantom approached Normandy from the rear.

“How we doing, Helm?” asked Raycraft.

“Range is now eighteen hundred fifty feet, closing at 33 feet per second, Skipper.”

“Okay, let’s shift laterally by sixteen hundred feet. We’ll pull up alongside and then carefully move closer.”

“Understood,” said the Helm Officer. As Phantom got closer, it also moved sideways in order to run parallel to the battlecruiser. It took five more minutes for the corvette to exactly match the larger ship’s velocity and trajectory.

“How big is the gap?” asked Raycraft.

“Ninety-seven feet, Skipper.”

“How close do you want the ship to get, Captain?” asked Raycraft.

“If you can get the gap down to ten feet, that would be ideal,” said Siegel. Raycraft looked at his HO with raised eyebrows. The Helm Officer nodded.

“I can do that,” he said.

“I’ll head down to the airlock. My team and I will be ready when you are,” said Siegel.

Siegel and his three crewmen were just about suited up when they heard Raycraft’s voice over the loudspeaker advising them that the gap was now down to nine feet. After entering the airlock and depressurizing, Siegel activated the outer hatch, which slid open. As he looked out, the light from his helmet’s lights reflected off the armored hull of the Normandy. Phantom’s HO had maneuvered her so that one of Normandy’s airlock hatches was directly across from Phantom’s. Siegel turned to his Engineering Officer.

“Okay, Brice. It’s up to you.”

“Roger that, Admiral.” The EO checked to make sure his safety line was securely attached to both his spacesuit and the inside of the airlock. He stepped forward to stand in the open doorway and pushed back against the sides with his arms. When he reached Normandy’s hull, he grabbed the handle made of collapsed matter to keep from bouncing off the hull and reached for the small hatch control panel. Siegel saw Normandy’s outer hatch door slide open.

“Okay, Skipper. The coast is clear.”

Siegel got ready to leap across the gap, but before he did that, he had one more order for Captain Raycraft. “Captain, hold Phantom right where she is for now. We need to make sure that we can bring Normandy back to Site Y orbit before our air supplies run out before I cut you loose.”

“Understood, Admiral. We’ll stay right here until you give the word.”

With that out of the way, Siegel leaped over to the open hatch as Allfrey stood by to make sure his CO didn’t blow the attempt.

Siegel carefully transitioned from the zero-gravity environment outside the airlock to the 1G artificial gravity inside the airlock. With his feet squarely on the deck, he activated the inner hatch mechanism and turned to check if the other two members of his skeleton crew were now aboard. When all four were inside the airlock, Allfrey was about to hit the button to close the outer hatch.

“Leave it open, Brice. Once we’re sure that we don’t have to return to Phantom, we can close the outer hatch from the Bridge.”

Siegel led the team down the corridor that led to the interior of the ship. With power systems activated, the corridor lights were on, and it didn’t take long to get to the central core elevators. Two minutes later, they were on the Bridge. Senior Lieutenant Allfrey took his position at the engineering station while Senior Lieutenant Brosnan took her position at the helm station. Siegel’s first stop was communications. He quickly opened a channel on the agreed-upon frequency with Phantom.

“We’re on the Bridge. Stand by, Phantom.” With that channel still open, Siegel stepped over to the astrogator’s station. Womack didn’t bother to look up. He was too busy checking distances and trajectories. When he finished, he leaned back and looked at Siegel.

“We don’t have enough air to stay on board until Normandy drops into orbit around Site Y, Skipper. I’ll have to program the autopilot to bring her in with zero risk of crashing into the planet.” He grinned, as did Siegel. Spending 12 hours in a spacesuit was not what anyone would call a pleasant prospect.

“Okay, go ahead. I’ll let Phantom know that we’re coming back aboard.”

Fifteen minutes later, all four were back on Phantom, which was veering off to a return trajectory for Site Y, while Normandy was changing vectors in a more leisurely fashion that was mandated by her more massive hull. Siegel sent a status report back to the Admiral.

It was the middle of the night and 24 hours after receiving Siegel’s report. Bentrik was still awake because his day/night cycle hadn’t become accustomed to this planet’s cycle yet, and he didn’t intend it to. As soon as the first battlecruiser’s FTL drive was upgraded, he intended to take it to Tanith. One warship by itself wasn’t going to change the outcome of the coming war but updating Merlin with the results of the hijack operation to get a revised plan of action quickly might make the difference between a relatively quick victory and a long, drawn-out slugging match.

Bentrik decided to step outside and check on the progress the engineers were making on the Normandy upgrade. The wind coming off the ocean was cool but not unpleasant. At least it wasn’t raining, which happened a lot. At the moment, she was the only warship sitting on the plateau. The entire engineering team was concentrating on her as the first priority. When she was finished, two more warships at a time would be brought down from orbit. The estimate was that each ship could be upgraded in 12 hours. While that was happening, supplies would be loaded so that the skeleton crew could take off the minute the FTL work was finished and checked. The head of the engineering team saw Bentrik walking toward the worksite and came over to him.

“How’s it going, Dan?” asked Bentrik.

“We’re making progress. The first one is going to take the longest because we’re not familiar with the layout of the ship or of the jump drive, but we’ve determined that the drive can be upgraded, and once we’ve figured out how to do it the first time, each team will be able to do it faster with the other ships. I figure we’ll be able to make a final check by the time the sun comes up, Admiral.”

“Very good. I’ll leave you to it then.”

As it turned out, the sun was high in the sky by the time the ship had the green light, and Bentrik was groggy from being awake for almost 23 hours. He managed to keep awake until Normandy had left the system’s no-jump zone before retiring to his quarters. His last thought before falling asleep was of the 600 missiles armed with fission warheads in the ship’s missile storage compartments.

Chapter Fifteen

Earth, 98 hours after the attack on Navy/Army HQ

Captain Rachel Armstrong listened at her command station as the com computer scanned the news frequencies, searching for references to attack damage as Savannah decelerated on its final descent through the atmosphere over Canberra. She knew quite a bit already. It was abundantly obvious that the huge navy station in geosynchronous orbit was gone. What she was hoping to learn now was how extensive the damage was to the HQ building in Canberra. Was it even hit at all? The loss of the station would hurt the Feds, but the loss of the HQ with its hundreds of senior officers and the Merlin clone was far more important to the Plan. The scan of frequencies was finding lots of references to the attack but only in generalities, nothing specific.

“We about to drop below the cloud cover, Skipper,” said Luiz Gowan, the XO.

Armstrong nodded and stepped over to the helm station. “Give me video of what’s below us,” she said to her HO.

The main display shifted from a computerized navigational display of the surrounding area to help the HO fly the ship to what the external camera at the base of the ship was showing. At first, it just showed clouds, then the ship broke through into the clear, and the image showed Canberra from seven miles up.

“Go to max zoom and aim at the HQ building site,” ordered Armstrong in a low voice. The image zoomed in to a roughly oval-shaped depression surrounded by green areas littered with debris.

“My God. There’s nothing left of that structure,” she said. “Okay, you can switch back to the flight nav display.” As she turned to go back to her command station, Gowan came over.

“It’s too bad we couldn’t get a good look at the lunar ship depot on the way in. That would have been three for three,” he said.

“Yes, that would have been nice, but we might still be able to find out what’s going on there. When we land, we act as if we’re just a small, scrappy shipping company looking to make a few sols profit. Make sure the crew is reminded of that. We keep our ears to the ground, and we only ask general questions. Nothing too specific that might arouse suspicions. We’ll stay here at least twenty-four hours but maybe longer. I want someone on the Bridge at all times just in case the ship has to bug out fast.”

“I’ll make sure of that, Skipper.”

“Good. Take the con while I go to my quarters to get the documents that spaceport admin and customs will want to see. Ask Traffic Control if they can send a groundcar to pick me up. I’d rather not use ours if we can help it.”

“I’ll take care of it,” said Gowan.

The landing was routine, and the automated groundcar was waiting for Armstrong as she walked down the boarding ramp. With Savannah parked over a mile from the spaceport admin center, not having to walk or unload the ship’s groundcar was a pleasant surprise. Many spaceports would not extend that courtesy to the captains of small shipping companies. After getting in the vehicle, she told the computer where she wanted to go and settled back for the short ride. There were other ships parked on the ground, and Armstrong looked at them carefully. The civilian spaceport was adjacent to the Navy spaceport, and she thought she saw a spherical ship parked on the navy side. The high level of reflectivity from its hull marked it as being a collapsium armored ship. That meant that at least one of the mothballed ships had been re-activated since none of the Navy’s light cruisers had that kind of armor. It didn’t take long to arrive at the admin center. Armstrong got out and headed inside to the Arrivals counter, where ship captains were expected to register their ships. Armstrong had done the same kind of thing on dozens of planets and wasn’t nervous about being on Earth for the first time. She was surprised that the registration process was conducted by a live person instead of a computer terminal. She unobtrusively activated the comm. unit she was wearing so that the ship would hear everything she said. As the clerk went through the process of examining the ship’s documents, Armstrong decided to make some idle conversation.

“We heard about the attack on the way in, but my crew and I are still a little vague about the details. What was that big depression on the edge of the city before the attack?

“Navy/Army HQ,” said the clerk without even looking up from his work.

“My God. That’s terrible. Was that the only thing that got hit?”

“The Navy’s geosync station got blown apart.” This time the clerk did look up. “There were some scary moments when we didn’t know if chunks of the station would come crashing down on the city. Luckily the debris missed us and fell into the ocean.” He returned his attention to the registration process. “What kind of cargo are you carrying, Captain?”

“Oh, exotic products mostly. You know, drinks, foods, and tobacco made from local plants on half a dozen planets. A few art objects, some gems. One of my crew thought they heard a tail end of a news report about an attack on the moon? What happened there?”

The clerk stopped working, looked up, and chuckled while shaking his head. “Yeah, the Government isn’t admitting to anything, but because we’re neighbors with the Navy spaceport, we hear things. Apparently, a bunch of mothballed warships left over from the war got hijacked, but some didn’t. Now the Navy is having a lot of trouble recommissioning the warships that got left behind because they’ve lost the re-activation codes! Those codes were stored in some special computer in the HQ building, and all that data is gone now. Leave it to the fucking Navy to put all their eggs in one basket, and now that the basket has been squashed flat, their eggs are kaput too.”

“That’s pretty disturbing news. Without those warships, Earth is pretty much wide open for another attack, isn’t it?”

The clerk shrugged. “Why would they bother with another attack? They, whoever they are, have already done a good job crippling the Navy and the Army.”

“But didn’t I see an armored ship sitting over by the navy spaceport?” asked Armstrong.

“A Navy combat transport. It was mothballed too, but its former Captain now retired, remembered the re-activation code when he learned that the codes were lost in the attack. So far, it’s the only ship they’ve managed to recommission. Okay, Captain, your ship, the Savannah, is registered. Landing fees for five days will total 1,597 sols.”

“Savannah won’t be staying longer than three days at the most,” said Armstrong.

The clerk shrugged again. “That’s okay. You pay for five days upfront and if you leave early, come back here when you’re ready to go, and we’ll refund the difference.”

“Alright,” said Armstrong as she took out the pouch containing some of the Federation money left over from the currency the SSA had confiscated during the war. She counted out 1,600 sols and handed it over to the clerk, who counted it again and then looked carefully at some of it.

“Hm, this looks like it's prewar.”

“Really? Before we left, my boss handed me a container with currency for these types of expenses. I didn’t even look at them that closely.”

The clerk was now looking at her with a puzzled expression. “Just wait here while I check something, Captain.”

Armstrong watched as the clerk went to what she assumed was the Supervisor and showed him the 1600. He looked at the currency for a few seconds and said something she couldn’t hear. He then took the 1600 and went into an office at the far side of the room, and closed the door. Armstrong had a feeling that this situation was going downhill. The clerk didn’t come back to the counter right away. Instead, he went to the nearest desk and used a comm. unit with his back to Armstrong. That was suspicious all by itself.

“Savannah, com check,” said Armstrong in a whisper.

“We hear you, Skipper.” She heard Gowan’s voice via the bone-conducting unit resting on her collarbone.

“Stand by for emergency lift-off if I give the word,” she whispered.

“Roger that. We’re ready, Skipper.”

Armstrong wanted to run for the exit but knew that it would be a dead giveaway that she was hiding something. There was still the remote possibility that she was being paranoid and that the currency check would end up being routine. It was when the Supervisor came out of his office with an expression that said things were not routine that Armstrong knew she was in trouble. She heard the Supervisor talk to the clerk.

“Security’s on their way. That money’s on the MIA list.”

“E.L.O,” she said in a low voice.

“Acknowledging emergency liftoff! Good luck, Skipper!” She heard the click that meant the com channel was now closed. There was only one thing left for her to do. She closed her eyes and repeated the self-hypnotic mantra that would make her forget all the important military information that the Feds must not learn about the Phoenix organization. Even if they tried using a mind probe on her, they still wouldn’t get those secrets. Of course, a mind probe would leave her a drooling idiot, but in that state, she would no longer know or care about what her mission had cost her.

Four armed security guards arrived seconds later. Armstrong held her hands up and didn’t resist being arrested. As they led her out of the building, she heard a siren going off. As she looked over to where Savannah had landed, she saw her ship lift off with enough acceleration that it broke the sound barrier after only a few seconds. The sonic boom caused by a 110,000-ton ship going supersonic was deafening. She heard the guard sergeant cursing her.

“That was your ship, wasn’t it?” When it was obvious that she wasn’t going to respond, he shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve got you, and you’re going to tell us what we want to know.”

Armstrong wanted to tell him about the amnesia mantra but decided to keep her mouth shut.

Admiral Granger was shown into the President’s inner office. She could tell by DeChastelaine’s expression that she was not in a good mood. She started talking before Granger even had a chance to sit down.

“What exactly happened at the spaceport two hours ago, Admiral?”

“A freighter owned by a Zarathustran company landed, and when her captain tried to pay the landing fees with currency that was identified as being part of the money that the SSA confiscated during the war, most of which was never recovered, security personnel were summoned, and the captain was arrested. But not before she told her ship to run for it. The ship got away because we don’t have the armed station in orbit anymore or any armed ships that might have intercepted her. The captain has been interrogated while under veridicator. Somehow, she’s managed to forget anything that would tie her or her ship to a rebel organization. The veridicator confirms that she’s telling the truth when she says she can’t remember things. The panic reaction by her ship suggests that, at the very least, they’re involved in something illegal such as smuggling, but my guess is they were performing post-attack reconnaissance to see how much damage the attack managed to inflict. Based on the conversation the Captain had with the registration clerk before the money came to light, the Captain learned that we’re having trouble re-activating the mothballed heavy cruisers still on the moon. She was wearing communications equipment, so we have to assume that her ship heard that conversation too and will be reporting back to the rebels that this star system is wide open for another attack.”

“Another attack? Why would they do that?”

“My guess would be that they’d want to destroy those heavy cruisers before we find a way to make them operational again. If they couldn’t hijack them, they would want to make sure that we can’t make use of them. If the rebels are operating from Marduk, the former capital of the SSA, then it’ll take months for that freighter to get there and more months for a strike force to come back. We’ll have those heavy cruisers recommissioned by then. If we can’t recover the existing re-activation codes, we’ll physically remove the components that the codes would use and replace them with units that will accept new codes that we can use. By the time the rebel fleet returns, we’ll have all 23 heavy cruisers crewed and waiting in orbit for them, Sir.”

“You better be right, Admiral. The Grand Council and I have zero tolerance for any more military disasters. If they attack again and the Navy’s not ready, you’ll be held accountable. Is that clearly understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. In that case, you’re dismissed.”

Chapter Sixteen

Rivington City spaceport, Tanith, Day 63 of 877 A.E.

Bentrik was in a hurry to disembark. His detailed report on the hijack operation had been transmitted to Augustin for uploading to Merlin as soon as Normandy had emerged from jumpspace. That had been over five hours ago. Augustin had sent back a reply half an hour ago that Savannah had brought back news of the extent of the damage from the attack and that Merlin was finished updating the strategic plan, and Bentrik was eager to hear it. He was waiting at the airlock for the ship to settle down on the landing pad and for the ramp to lower. His luggage robots were waiting patiently behind him.

“We’re down, Admiral,” said Siegel over the loudspeaker.

“Very good, Captain. You know what I want done.”

“I do, Sir. Valley Forge will be ready to lift off in twelve hours.”

“See me before you go.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The outer airlock hatch opened, and Bentrik could see the boarding ramp slowly dropping down. He sighed over giving Siegel permission to change the ship’s name to Valley Forge after one of the SSA Navy’s capital ships. If Siegel was allowed to do it, then the other captains would probably want to change the names of their ships, too, and Bentrik was concerned that it would just create confusion. But he had given permission and wasn’t going to change his mind now. As he stepped onto the ramp that was now down, he saw that a groundcar was approaching. It pulled up in front of the ramp, and Augustin got out.

“Welcome back to this cosmopolitan metropolis, Admiral.” The sarcasm in Augustin’s voice was subtle but there nonetheless.

Bentrik laughed. “Maybe I should send you to spend a few weeks on that rocky plateau on Site Y. It might make you appreciate this city a bit more.”

“Alright. I’ll stop complaining about this planet. It sounds like you had an interesting time on Earth’s moon.”

Bentrik stepped off the ramp and shook Augustin’s outstretched hand. “Interesting isn’t the word I’d use. What did Savannah find?”

“Why don’t I tell you while we head over to the Command Center? Once we’re there, I can show you Merlin’s plan as it unfolds on the star map.”

“Fine. Just let me tell my luggage where to go first.” The robotic luggage was capable of making its own way to the quarters in the tower while a groundcar took the two men to the Fleet Command Center, which was in one of the large rooms in the rebuilt Merlin complex that had originally been used for storage back on Poictesme. Augustin waited until the groundcar pulled away from the boarding ramp.

“The visual evidence from Savannah’s external cameras are pretty clear that the HQ building was completely destroyed. There’s a crater there now that’s deep enough to be certain that their Merlin clone was smashed flat. Savannah’s XO has also confirmed that the Navy’s orbiting station was destroyed. Collateral damage from debris impacts on Earth was minimal. Most of the debris fell into the oceans. We lucked out there.”

Bentrik interjected before Augustin could continue. “Wait a minute. You said Savannah’s XO made the confirmation? Did something happen to Rachel Armstrong?”

“Yes. She was arrested when the currency she tried to use to pay landing fees was suspected of having SSA fingerprints all over it. She managed to warn Gowan, her XO, to make an emergency liftoff. Without the navy’s orbital station or any ship patrols to stop her, Savannah managed to get away. There’s more news about the ship depot.”

“I’m listening,” said Bentrik.

“Before Armstrong aroused their suspicions, she chatted with the registration clerk who told her that the Navy no longer had the activation codes for the remaining heavy cruisers or the military transports. It must have been lost when their HQ was destroyed.”

“Interesting. What about the warhead depot?”

“That’s the disappointing part. The ship had to bug out so quickly, they didn’t have time to try to find out what the situation was for that installation.”

Bentrik was silent for the rest of the short trip as he pondered how that unknown might affect Merlin’s revised plan. Arriving at the Command Center complex, it only took them a few minutes to reach the Command Center itself. Augustin led the way to the Observation level overlooking the holographic display. The two-story holotank was ideal for visualizing strategic movement between star systems on a grand scale. As soon as the two of them stopped at the edge of the balcony overlooking the holotank, Augustin nodded to one of the junior officers manning consoles on the lower level. The image on the holotank zoomed in to a section of the space occupied by the Federation.

“Okay, as soon as three battlecruisers are completely manned and operational, they’ll be sent to Gimli. That’s the navy base that is the main nexus for distributing directives from Earth to other bases. It also has the most navy ships operating from it of any of the bases. If we take that base or at least neutralize it, we can throw the Fed Navy’s entire fleet organization into chaos, if it isn’t already. The ground force component is ready to leave at any time. It’ll have two companies of tanks plus a battalion of infantry wearing combat armor deployed on APCs. All three battlecruisers will be loaded with kinetic and high-explosive armed missiles in order to give you more tactical options. I presume you’d like to take the base relatively intact if possible, correct?”

“Of course. If we just nuked the place, incoming Fed warships would detect the radiation and know that something suspicious was going on. I want them to think that everything is routine so that they bring their ships down to the ground where we can then grab them.”

“And that’s what Merlin’s recommending. By the way, the supporting freighters will be carrying a technical team along with the necessary equipment to upgrade captured ships to the faster jump-drive.”

“Why would we bother upgrading their light cruisers when we’ll have trouble finding crews for all the heavy cruisers we’ve hijacked?” asked Bentrik.

“Well, Merlin thinks an upgraded light cruiser would make a useful courier vessel if manned by the minimum crew necessary to fly her. Don’t forget that drumming up political support among planetary governments is part of Merlin’s plan too. Couriers could be used to spread the news that the Federation is on the verge of collapse. The first planet to receive that news would obviously be Marduk.”

“Marduk, I can understand. I have plans for my homeworld. But I’m not in any hurry to recruit other planets as long as there are any Fed Navy warships still unaccounted for. Those heavy cruisers we had to leave behind on the moon worry me. When does Merlin think we should send a squadron back there to neutralize them?”

“It doesn’t. I queried it about that. The reason why is that Merlin is predicting those mothballed heavy cruisers will be re-commissioned before a three-ship squadron of battlecruisers can get back there. It calculated a 61.8% chance that the Feds will hold their heavy cruisers close to Earth and try for an ambush. Three battlecruisers would not stand much of a chance against twenty-three heavy cruisers. Even if they didn’t get all twenty-three recommissioned by then, our battlecruisers would be severely outgunned. It would take all nineteen battlecruisers to be sure of destroying those twenty-three heavies, and we’d lose some of our ships doing it.”

Bentrik shook his head. “Which is exactly why I want to catch them on the ground before they can be recommissioned! The base at Gimli can wait a few more days for the second group of battlecruisers to be made operational.”

Augustin sighed. He understood Bentrik’s reasoning, and he also understood how Merlin weighed alternative strategies. “I checked that option of going after the remaining heavies first, then take Gimli. The difference is subtle but important. Gimli is close enough that delaying the attack by a few days, which is what it would take to upgrade and completely crew three more battlecruisers, increases the probability that a warning will reach Gimli first from 24% to 34%. One chance in three instead of one chance in four. That difference has all kinds of ripple effects down the road where best and worst-case scenarios start to diverge wider as time goes along. So, while the most likely scenario doesn’t change much, if something goes wrong, the negative impacts will be greater than if you follow Merlin’s plan.”

Bentrik was silent for a few seconds. We have to strike now while we can still catch those heavy cruisers on the moon. A few missiles armed with fission warheads would do the job. Hell, even just one missile with a fusion warhead would do the trick. Enough fissile uranium had been extracted and enriched from Tanith’s moon so that the engineers had gone ahead and assembled a prototype fusion warhead that they guaranteed would work. As an anti-ship weapon, it was impractical because the guidance system needed to hit another ship in space was designed to fit into smaller missile nosecones containing smaller fission bombs. The fusion-tipped missile would have only a very rudimentary autopilot type of guidance system, which would be enough to fire it at the ship depot. The explosive yield of the warhead was large enough that pinpoint accuracy wasn’t needed. An idea occurred to him.

“I want to know what Merlin makes of this plan. We send that first battlecruiser to Sol for a high-speed flyby of Earth’s moon where it will fire a fusion-tipped missile at the ship depot and a fission-tipped missile at that warhead depot. The high-velocity trajectory should enable the Valley Forge to avoid being ambushed by any recommissioned heavy cruisers. The next two battlecruisers that arrive here will carry out the mission against Gimli in concert with the troop transports exactly at the same time as in Merlin’s current plan. I know two battlecruisers are not the same as three, but we have the element of surprise. I’ll command the raid on Gimli. Captain Siegel will be in charge of the raid on the moon.”

Augustin nodded. “That might work. I’ll get my staff to program that query now. It shouldn’t take long. Do you want to see the rest of Merlin’s current plan now while you wait?”

“Yes.” Augustin gave the necessary orders before heading down to the Merlin part of the complex.

As Bentrik watched the movement of ships, squadrons, and troops on the holotank, his doubts about the ultimate outcome of the campaign faded away. The plan was simple in concept. It was the execution that was tricky in terms of timing. By going after Federation Navy bases, starting with Gimli and then moving outward from Terra, two goals would be accomplished. The element of surprise would be maintained to a great extent, and as each base was captured, it would make capturing or at least neutralizing the Navy’s light cruisers relatively easy as they returned one at a time to the base at the end of their regular patrols for resupply and re-assignment. The challenge was going to be finding enough trained personnel quickly. Bentrik doubted if all of the recovered ships would be crewed quickly enough to be of use. Garrisoning all the captured bases with ground troops depended on finding and recruiting enough ex-SSA Army people without tipping the Marduk government off that something was going on. To Bentrik’s surprise, Augustin was back by the time Merlin’s campaign projection was finished, and he was grinning.

“The benefit of neutralizing any remaining mothballed heavy cruisers and the warhead stockpile more than offset the slightly higher risk of failure to accomplish the Gimli mission. So, the net effect is that your plan can be incorporated into Merlin’s plan with negligible impact on the final outcome.”

“Excellent. Then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll brief Captain Siegel after he has Valley Forge ready to depart. As for the rest of Merlin’s campaign, it’s so well choreographed that it’s almost like watching a ballet. You and your people have done well, Leonhard.”

“Thank you, Aren. I’ll pass that along to them. What are you going to do now?”

“Well, right now, I’m going to my quarters to unpack, and by then, I think I’ll be ready for a quick meal before I meet with the senior ground force officers regarding the Gimli raid. I’ll see you later, Leonard.”

It was nine hours later when Bentrik met with Valley Forge’s senior officers for the mission briefing in the battlecruiser’s conference room. Before beginning the briefing, Bentrik looked around the table at the people who would be taking on this important mission. On his right was Captain Jiri Siegel, then Executive Officer Commander Jason Rensi, Senior Lieutenant Lars Womack Astrogation Officer, Senior Lieutenant Naomi Chisty Tactical Officer, Senior Lieutenant Kalyca Brosnan Helm Officer, and finally Senior Lieutenant Brice Allfrey Engineering Officer.

“I want to start by saying that I’m pleased with how quickly Valley Forge has been made operationally ready. Getting the rest of the crew settled in and apprised of their duties in just nine hours is quite the accomplishment. On the way here, I told all of you that I was seriously considering taking the first three battlecruisers back to Terra to eliminate any remaining possibility that the heavy cruisers we had to leave behind could be used against us. With the intel from Savannah, Merlin has calculated that at least two of the first three battlecruisers should escort the ground force component for the capture of the Fed Navy base at Gimli. That leaves one battlecruiser free to attack Earth’s moon again.” Bentrik paused to gauge the reaction. Without exception, all of Valley Forge’s officers looked surprised and concerned. And they’re right to be concerned. This raid has to be pulled off perfectly to avoid being intercepted, and a little luck wouldn’t hurt either.

“I can tell that you’re wondering whether one ship can do this mission and get back in one piece. I think it can if it’s done carefully.”

“A high-velocity flyby, Admiral?” asked Christy.

Bentrik grinned. She figured it out faster than I did. “Exactly. We know the exact coordinates of both the ship depot and the warhead storage depot. With the ship on a correct trajectory and an approach velocity of ten percent of light, two missiles will be launched at the correct time. A standard fission warhead missile will target the warhead storage depot. That should be enough to crush it and render the warheads unusable. The other missile will be a modified version containing a fusion prototype warhead with minimal guidance capability. As long as it lands within two miles of the ship depot, the blast should be enough to damage whatever ships are still sitting there enough to make them unusable too. The prototype warhead missile will be here shortly. I want it stored so that it can be loaded quickly when the time comes. The exact approach trajectory I’ll leave up to you people to figure out. You’ll have plenty of time to do that on your way to Sol. As soon as the prototype missile is loaded, I want Valley Forge to lift off. Captain Siegel, your orders are simple. Destroy the ship depot and the warhead storage depot without risking your ship in combat with superior forces. If you have to abort the missile launch to avoid combat with superior forces, then you may do so. If you’re facing enemy forces that you think Valley Forge can handle, then you’re to proceed with the missile launch on the targets. Having said that, once the lunar targets have been fired upon, your priority from that point on should be getting your ship back here with as little damage as possible. Any questions?”

Siegel looked around at his officers before answering with, “No questions, Admiral.”

“Fine. If I’m not here when you get back, there may or may not be orders waiting for you. If not, then you’re authorized to give your crew some R&R. Good luck and good hunting, Captain. We’re done here.” Siegel said little as he escorted Bentrik to the airlock exit. They shook hands and exchanged salutes before Bentrik passed through the open airlock and down the boarding ramp. Siegel was already on his way back to the Bridge. Valley Forge lifted off 89 minutes later.

Two more battlecruisers arrived over the next 72 hours, followed by a freighter carrying Phantom. The corvette had served its purpose and would not be needed for the campaign. Bentrik intended to promote Anton Raycraft to Captain and give him command of a battlecruiser but not one of the two that had just arrived. They already had captains, and both were considered competent otherwise, Bentrik wouldn’t have let them command the skeleton crews to bring the ships to Tanith. With Siegel and Valley Forge gone, he had to pick a new flagship for the Gimli mission. His choice ended up being Lexington (formerly Ardennes), commanded by Gail Foley. Captain Michael Philips commanding the Yorktown had more wartime experience, but Foley had impressed Bentrik with her keen tactical awareness, and her ship had played a key role in one of the few tactical victories the SSA managed to get during the war. Those two considerations were enough as far as Bentrik was concerned to earn her the Flag Captain’s spot. As soon as both battlecruisers were fully manned and operational, Bentrik boarded Lexington and ordered Task Force 1, consisting of the two warships plus two of the super-freighters loaded with infantry and combat armor, to lift off. The trip to the outskirts of the Gimli system would take 198 hours. As the ships lifted off from the Rivington spaceport, Bentrik couldn’t help wondering how Jiri Siegel was making out with his mission.

Chapter Seventeen

Siegel leaned back in his command station chair and pondered the situation on the large tactical display. Valley forge had just emerged from jumpspace at the edge of the Sol system. The Astrogation computer was busy identifying key planetary objects in order to calculate the ship’s exact position. Once that position was established, Astrogation Officer Womack could compute a series of micro-jumps that would put the ship on the opposite side of the system to set up the tactical plan that Siegel, Womack, and Tactical Officer Christy had come up with during the trip. The moon was now between the Earth and the sun, but because the moon’s orbit was tilted, it was slightly above the line that connected Earth with the sun. The tactical plan called for Valley Forge to slingshot over the sun as it built up velocity, then dive toward the moon and fire its missiles when it reached a distance of 100 light seconds from the moon. As soon as the missiles were launched, the ship would veer off for a new trajectory that would let it reach the edge of the no-jump zone as quickly as possible. The missiles would use the momentum given to them by the ship to get within range from which their own maneuver drives would last long enough to make final course corrections that would ensure hitting their targets. Siegel and his team hoped that if there was an ambush force waiting for them, it would be positioned on the other side of the Earth from the moon, which would allow it to intercept any hostile force that came directly toward the Earth from beyond the no-jump zone. That would be the obvious thing to do, and Siegel was honest enough with himself to admit that if he were in charge of Earth’s defenses, he’d position ships there and also between the moon and the sun just in case someone tried the slingshot maneuver that he was going to try.

“I have our exact position now, Captain,” said Womack. “And I’ll have our micro-jumps calculated in a couple of minutes.”

“I want to see those jumps on Tactical before we execute, Lars,” said Siegel.

“Yes, Sir.” The two minutes passed quickly with the three micro-jumps projected on the display. The ship had to detour around the sun’s massive no-jump zone, which prevented a single, direct micro-jump.

“What ETA would we be looking at until we’re at the firing point?” asked Siegel.

“Approximately thirty-three minutes to complete all three micro-jumps plus another two hundred twenty-five minutes to slingshot around, so we’re looking at a total of four hours and eighteen minutes, Admiral.”

Siegel shook his head. He’d been afraid of that. By the time the ship fired its missiles and attempted to evade any interception attempt, he’d be awake for almost 20 hours. And if the ship was going to engage in combat, he needed to be alert and rested. The same thing applied to his senior officers who were currently manning the Bridge. But there was no rush to conduct the attack as quickly as possible.

“No, we’re not in that much of a hurry. Let’s do the micro-jumps and then decelerate to zero velocity while everyone gets a decent amount of rest. The moon will still be there twelve hours from now.”

“Yes, Sir. I’m setting up the autopilot for the course change for the first micro-jump now.”

Siegel felt a yawn coming on, but he would remain on the Bridge until all the micro-jumps were complete, then get a bite to eat before retiring to his quarters for some sleep. As he continued to look at the display, he wondered what ambush forces were waiting for his ship.

Twelve hours, eighteen minutes later:

Commodore Collin Carter entered the Bridge of the heavy cruiser Agincourt and motioned for Captain Marlene Hubner to remain seated in the command station Chair. He wasn’t sure how long he would stay on the Bridge, so there was no point in making Hubner give up her chair if it was only going to be for a few minutes. The tactical display was virtually the same as the last time he had seen it a few hours ago. The only exceptions being space traffic that were now in different positions. Carter took note of the fact that something didn’t feel right, but he didn’t know what that something was. All space traffic was squawking transponder ids and had been classified by the tactical system as friendly. He focused his attention on the green triangle with the number three inside. That was his squadron. Of the 23 heavy cruisers left on the moon that had been re-activated quickly enough for transfer to the navy spaceport near Canberra, Admiral Granger had only managed so far to find crews for five. The other two active cruisers were holding station out beyond the edge of the no-jump zone. And we’re not exactly an elite bunch. He felt guilty at having that thought. Most of the crews were retired navy personnel who had volunteered for temporary duty. His crew from the light cruiser Pegasus, which had arrived back at Terra for a scheduled overhaul, had formed the cadre for the Agincourt and the other four heavies. The volunteers were doing their best to relearn what they had forgotten or learn what they didn’t know as fast as they could. What they lacked in skill, they tried to make up for with motivation. But motivation will only go so far if shit hits the fan and missiles start flying in both directions. At least Captain Hubner was a currently serving officer, promoted to captain on a temporary basis. In fact, all five captains were already serving in the navy in some capacity when the crisis reared its ugly head. The other four were either captains of unarmed transports or Executive Officers from light cruisers, who happened to be on leave when the HQ had been destroyed. There were a lot of temporary promotions these days, himself included. That idea that he might someday wear the single star of a Commodore hadn’t occurred to him since his Academy days before he learned how stodgy and insular the Federation Navy really was. Well, it certainly wasn’t stodgy and insular anymore. A flashing yellow dot on the display caught his attention.

“What is that, Lieutenant Christy?” asked Carter.

“Tactical says it’s a visual anomaly picked up by the satellite network. The contact only lasted for point six of a second. Tactical is unable to classify it, Commodore.”

Carter was about to say something when the flashing dot became a constant dot. He looked over at TO Christy, who looked down at her console.

“Visual contact has been reacquired now, Admiral. Tactical has classified it as a ship, identity unknown, possibly hostile, now designated as Tango1.”

Carter felt a shiver go up his spine. From the relative position of the contact, which was above the plane of the ecliptic, and from the fact that the direction of the contact was more or less sunward, he had a sudden fear that at least one enemy ship was trying to sneak up on them from what would normally be considered behind.

“Do we have enough data to project a trajectory?” he asked.

“Not yet, Admiral. Satnet is trying to triangulate that contact which would give us distance, and once we have that, tactical should be able to project that ship’s vector.”

Carter nodded, but he was already thinking about his squadron’s position and vector. Admiral Granger had insisted that his squadron circle the Earth in a polar orbit. Her reasoning was that such an orbit would quickly allow the squadron, if necessary, to loop around the Earth in order to achieve an interception vector for any possible enemy approach trajectory. But that kind of maneuver took time. Right now, his squadron was coming up from below the South Pole and facing the sun. If Tango1 was coming down from above the ecliptic and from the opposite side of the Earth and its moon, then the squadron was moving the wrong way. He had two options now. He could order the squadron to conduct a low-altitude flyby of the Earth in order to quickly change direction as well as pick up some extra velocity. But that maneuver would mean that his squadron would be looping over the top of the Earth and coming down the far side. The other option was to veer off from the Earth and try for a direct head-on interception of Tango1. Making that decision depended on what kind of trajectory that bogey had. Did it intend to pass over the moon or under it?

“Satnet triangulated the visual contact, Admiral. That bogey’s diving on the moon and will pass it on the far side in eighty-nine seconds.”

Carter checked the tactical display and nodded. Tango1 was approaching the moon and damn fast too. My God, they’re going after the ship depot! “Can we intercept them before they get within missile range?” he asked.

“No, Sir! They’ve got too much velocity for that. The best we could do is bring them within our missile range after they make their closest approach to the moon.”

Carter turned to the AO. “I want to see two tactical options. We head directly for Tango1 now, or we slingshot around the Earth and then try for an interception. Fast as you can, Lieutenant.”

“Understood, Sir.”

“Captain, Admiral Granger is on Tac1.”

Carter activated that audio channel. “Carter here, Admiral.”

“That bogey has been classified as hostile. How do you want to handle this, Captain?”

“That’s what my AO is working on now, Sir. My squadron can peel off and head directly for the bogey, but it’ll be a short engagement, and if we don’t get at least a crippling hit, the enemy will get away while we’re heading in the wrong direction with no chance of catching her. My other option is to slingshot over the north pole and come down the other side with greater velocity along with a heading in more or less the same direction. The problem with that option is that the bogey might be able to get out of our missile range before we can fire on her.”

“Understood. If we can predict where along the no-jump zone edge that ship will aim for, Captain Matsu’s two cruisers can micro-jump into an ambush position. But once the bogey sweeps past the moon, it could change trajectory to just about anything.”

Carter thought fast. “If we do the slingshot maneuver, we’ll be able to follow and track the bogey along whatever trajectory it takes and pass that data to Matsu, even if we’re out of missile range, Admiral.”

“My thoughts exactly. If you can get into missile range, take the shot. Otherwise, chase that bastard to the edge of the zone, and Matsu will spring the ambush. Any questions?”

“No, Sir.”

“Very good, Captain. Granger clear.”

Carter turned his attention to the display, which now showed the two trajectories he had asked for, along with green and red circles denoting missile ranges of both sides at their closest points. Only the direct trajectory had any chance of reaching Tango1 with missiles, and the window of opportunity was so short that it wasn’t really worth considering. The slingshot maneuver would not get his squadron within missile range unless the bogey stopped accelerating or came closer, and there was no good reason for that captain to do either.

“Helm, we’re going with the slingshot maneuver as soon as the AO brings Borodino and Thermopylae into the loop. Execute when ready. TO, make sure the squadron can fire a full volley of ASMs if we get the opportunity. Tie their fire control into yours. If it looks like Tango1’s in our missile range, go ahead and fire without waiting for me to give the order.”

With his orders acknowledged, Carter leaned back and waited. As the squadron veered closer to Earth, Carter grinned at the thought of the consternation the maneuver was bound to cause with Earth Near Space Traffic Control. Navy ships had unrestricted rights to maneuver as needed, but he couldn’t remember that last time three navy ships performed an unscheduled maneuver like this. At least there was enough time for commercial traffic to get out of the way.

“Tango1 has passed its closest approach to the moon, Captain,” said the AO. Carter nodded. He wondered if the bogey’s captain realized that the ship depot was now empty and the warhead depot had been emptied of whatever warheads were still intact after several ships had crashed into the bunker at the same time as the HQ attack. If those two sites were the targets of this attack, then it was satisfying to know that they were risking one of their hard-earned battlecruisers for nothing.

Valley Forge:

“We’re being scanned by multiple search radars, Skipper. Tactical thinks they’re coming from Earth’s satellite network. They have us pinpointed now.”

Siegel nodded. With the missile strikes on the two depot locations, the Feds would know that an enemy force was operating nearby if they hadn’t already figured that out. The satellite network was the logical way to track them without giving away the locations of any mobile forces. With the element of surprise and stealth now gone, there was no drawback to Valley Forge commencing its own radar/lidar scans.

“Go to active scanning, full three hundred sixty degrees sweep.”

“Active scanning has commenced,” said the TO. Within seconds, the tactical display sounded the two-tone signal denoting the detection of ships that could be hostile. It took another few seconds for the radar data to form a projected path. Siegel blinked to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Three ships in formation, and they’re heading away from us? Commercial ships don’t fly in formation. They have to be warships. He heard a single tone from the display, which now showed a dotted red line curving over the north pole and down the other side. Aha! They’re using Earth’s gravity well to slingshot around. “Can they bring us within their missile range, Naomi?”

“Tactical says no, Skipper. Not as long as we keep accelerating.”

“Then let’s keep doing that,” said Siegel in what he hoped was a playful tone. But even as he said it, he was puzzled as to why those three warships were bothering to make a hundred eighty degree turn when it must be equally obvious to their commander that Valley Forge would stay out of their missile range? When they complete their maneuver, they’ll be behind us, probably on a parallel vector. Our velocity advantage means we’ll gradually pull further and further away, but they’ll still be able to track us with their lidar. Is that what this is all about, making sure we don’t double back to attack again?

Heavy cruiser Waterloo:

Captain Eriko Matsu leaned forward in her command station chair to concentrate on what the tactical display was now showing her. Data from Carter’s squadron showed the bogey heading for the edge of the no-jump zone that was a continuation of the attack vector it followed as it passed the moon. The squadron was already falling back as it tried to maneuver onto a parallel vector. Radar would soon become useless for tracking the bogey when the distance caused the return signal to be too weak to detect, but lidar’s detection range was much longer.

“I have a preliminary micro-jump calculated, Captain,” said the AO.

“Let’s see it, Hannah,” said Matsu. A blue dotted line showed where Waterloo and Crecy were now and where the micro-jump would take them, which was just beyond the no-jump zone, right where the bogey would arrive if it maintained its present trajectory. “What’s the bogey’s ETA to the zone boundary?”

“At the rate they’re piling on the velocity, they should arrive there in just over fifty-eight minutes, Captain.”

Matsu yielded to the impulse to raise her eyebrows in surprise. That was fast. “Show me the margin for error on that emergence point.”

The projected path of the bogey now became a gradually widening cone as tiny, estimated errors in the tracking data compounded to show how large the area was where the enemy ship might actually cross the zone boundary. Matsu shook her head in dismay. The cone’s circle was so large that if her two cruisers sat in the middle, they’d have trouble ambushing the bogey. The problem had to do with the fact that when her two cruisers micro-jumped, they’d lose their tracking data feed because Carter’s squadron would not be able to redirect their comlaser beam with the tracking data to the new position without the bogey being illuminated by the same beam, causing its captain to wonder who the pursuing squadron might be trying to contact in front of them. Since the tracking data was over six minutes old due to the 68 million miles between Carter’s squadron and Matsu’s two-ship division, if the bogey changed vectors in the last few minutes before crossing the boundary, she’d have no way of knowing that in time to do anything about it. That meant that she had to delay the micro-jump for as long as possible. On the plus side, the bogey would have so much velocity momentum by then that any attempt to change trajectory would not make a significant difference to the boundary exit point. As long as the squadron could keep tracking the bogey, the cone should shrink as the time to compound tracking errors also shrank. Matsu turned to the HO.

“Let’s get both ships turned around so that we’re facing the right direction for the micro-jump. That way, any last-minute vector adjustments should be small and quick.”

Valley Forge, 53 minutes later:

Siegel was pacing from one side of the Bridge to the other and back as he checked the time to boundary indicator for the nth time. The ship was less than six minutes from being able to jump away, but the closer it got, the more nervous he became. This was too easy. The three-ship squadron was still pursuing on a parallel vector but was now millions of miles behind them. Why they were still bothering to track his ship with lidar now when it must be obvious that Valley Forge wasn’t going to come back around for another attack was beyond him. It occurred to him that by continuing to accelerate after him, that squadron was now out of position in terms of not being able to respond to another attack if Valley Forge had actually just been a decoy. That did not make any kind of rational military sense. Unless they have other heavy cruisers operational as well. He turned to the TO.

“Naomi, if you were in charge of Terra’s defenses and you had more than three heavy cruisers to deploy, where would you put the others?”

She thought for a moment before responding. “I’d put them out beyond the zone boundary so that they could micro-jump wherever they were needed.”

“Such as ambushing an enemy ship trying to cross the boundary to jump away?” he asked.

Her eyes opened wide as she realized what he was getting at. “Yes, Sir. And in order to know where that ship would exit the zone, it would have to be tracked for as long as possible.”

Siegel snorted. “Ha. Damn right it would. That’s why that squadron has been following us. They’re trying to set up an ambush. Lars! I want a ninety-degree vector change that will complicate the most likely Fed micro-jump as much as possible. Execute as soon as that’s plotted, Kalyca.”

Agincourt:

“They’re changing course, Skipper!” said the TO. Carter heard someone curse. He felt like cursing too. Lidar pulses were taking over three minutes to reflect back to Agincourt. The new vector data would now take an additional five minutes to reach Matsu, assuming that Waterloo and Crecy were still at their old position. When her two heavies finished their micro-jump, Tango1 would not be where they expected it to be.

Waterloo:

Matsu checked the time again. Eighty-eight seconds until the bogey crossed the zone boundary. It was time to make the micro-jump. “AO, notify your counterpart on Crecy that we’re jumping with a five-second countdown to the jump.”

“Crecy has been notified, and countdown is commencing…now.”

Matsu listened to the countdown with part of her awareness. Everything was ready. Both ships’ TOs knew what she wanted done the second the ships emerged from jumpspace. When the countdown hit zero, both ships micro-jumped together and emerged back into normal space 1.4 seconds later.

“Actively scanning!” The TO’s voice was louder than normal, but Matsu couldn’t blame her. Whatever was going to happen would happen fast, and her ambush force would only get one chance to stop the bogey. “Target detected! Tactical is locking on! All tubes have fired! Reload in progress!”

Matsu manipulated her console to zoom that tactical image in. The bogey was not where the projected path had predicted. He’s made a last-minute course change, the bastard! But we might still be able to hit him. The green triangle with the number 12 inside representing the first missile volley was clawing its way around to the correct vector. The sidebar data showed a 61.8% chance that the missiles would be able to make the final course corrections needed to hit the target.

“He’s fired AMMs!” The TO was now shouting. Matsu wasn’t surprised by the news. She would have done the same thing if she were in command over there. But the relatively short range would complicate the attempted interception by the bogey’s anti-missile missiles. The less time AMMs had to track their targets with their own radar, the worse their chances of interception. “Second volley has fired! Reloading!”

Matsu took a deep breath. Two missile volleys were all that Tactical had predicted of having any chance at all of reaching the target given its velocity, and the second volley only had a 38.2% chance of actually hitting the bogey. As she watched, the 10 AMMs reached her first missile volley. Their tactical fission warheads managed to destroy six of her missiles. It was now a race to see if the bogey could fire another AMM volley before her remaining six missiles got too close for AMM interception. She held her breath as she watched the display. With seconds left before her missiles crossed the bogey’s path, it fired another 10 AMMs, but they didn’t destroy any of her remaining first volley. He’s targeting our second missile volley with those AMMs, and he’s hoping his four point-defense laser turrets will handle the six.

Valley Forge:

Siegel was holding his breath as his laser turrets fired, recharged, and fired again. Tactical was predicting that all six remaining ASMs in the first volley would be neutralized as their guidance systems were turned into lumps of slag by the laser hits.

“ONLY FIVE MIS—” Siegel instinctively tensed his body as Christy’s voice was interrupted by the massive concussion as one of the anti-ship missiles hit the ship and exploded its fission warhead. His chair’s harness kept him from being thrown across the Bridge headfirst, but the severity of the jerk caused his vision to blur, and his stomach threatened to heave. He heard others cry out in pain. The missile had hit the bow of the ship, and the concussion had felt like a groundcar hitting a concrete wall at high speed. As he tried to regain visual and mental focus, a part of his mind recognized that the ship’s ability to fire AMMs and lasers might now be severely compromised.

“DAMAGE REPORT!” His voice was hoarse with stress.

“We’ve…we’ve lost all forward launch tubes and all four lasers, Skipper!”

Siegel was not surprised. The top of the ship where the missile tubes and the laser turrets were, had the least amount of collapsium armor in recognition of the fact that a heavily armored missile tube or laser turret hatch covering would be difficult to open and close quickly. That meant the bow was the ship’s weak spot. Normally in a missile duel, the captain would try to orient his ship to keep the most heavily armored sides facing incoming enemy missiles, but the geometry of this ambush had prevented him from doing so.

“What about the jump drive?” he asked.

“Still operational!” shouted Womack, the AO.

A quick check of the display, which was still working, showed him that there were another 66 seconds to go to cross the no-jump zone boundary. It also showed that the Fed’s second missile volley was about to encounter his second AMM volley. The tactical computer had already calculated that those ASMs had a low probability of successfully making the necessary terminal course corrections. If his AMMs could take out enough of the enemy’s second volley, his ship might survive to jump away. He heard someone groan when only eight of the twelve missiles were stopped.

“Helm, rotate the hull ninety degrees!” Now that the ship was unable to defend itself, changing its forward orientation no longer posed a problem.

Siegel opened a channel to the rest of the ship.

“All hands, stand by for missile hit concussion!”

Waterloo:

Matsu and the rest of the Bridge crew were silent as two out of the remaining four missiles managed to hit the bogey and exploded. It immediately stopped accelerating. Twenty-one seconds later, it crossed the zone boundary but did not jump away.

“Captain?” Matsu turned to look at her TO. “Tactical is detecting atmospheric venting from the bogey.” Matsu nodded then turned to look at her Com Officer. “Any transmissions from that ship?”

“No, Sir. Nothing.”

Not that there’s much we could do even if they did offer to surrender. It’ll take the better part of a day to catch up and then match velocities. Venting from an armored hull has to mean massive casualties if the force from the exploding warheads was enough to penetrate the armor.  “Tell Crecy that she’s to rendezvous with the bogey and attempt to rescue survivors if any. Waterloo will return to our sentry position. Advise Squadron Leader Carter that the bogey appears to be crippled and Crecy will be conducting rescue operations.

Office of the Federation President, 35 hours later:

DeChastelaine gestured for Granger to have a seat as she entered the President’s inner office.

“I understand that congratulations are in order, Admiral.”

“Thank you, Madame President. I’ve already sent my congratulations to Squadron Leader Carter and to Captain Matsu on behalf of their crews.”

“The preliminary reports on the rescue effort were a little vague. What was the final result of that effort?”

“I’m sorry to report that by the time Crecy’s people were able to gain access to the bogey’s interior, all of her crew were dead from massive trauma caused by the missile warhead blast concussion and the excess energy that managed to penetrate that ship’s armor. And it wasn’t just human flesh that suffered from the concussions. The ship’s main computer was damaged too much to gain any information from it, so we don’t really know much more now than we did two days ago except that the battlecruiser in question used to be the Normandy. What’s left of her is not worth repairing. If her maneuvering engines still functioned, we could try to bring her back here to salvage her metal, but that doesn’t appear to be feasible. With the velocity she built up, she’ll soon be so far away that any salvage attempt would be a major operation. Given the shortage of trained personnel we’re dealing with now, I don’t see that operation as a good use of limited resources.”

“I see. I’ll leave that decision to your discretion. Did I understand correctly that the missiles fired at the moon caused no fatalities?”

“That’s correct, Madam President. There were no personnel at either of the two sites that were targeted. All of the mothballed ships had been moved to Earth, and the warhead storage site had been abandoned. Clearly, the rebels didn’t know that, or they wouldn’t have bothered making this risky attack. I think it’s pertinent to ask why they only sent one ship. My analysts are convinced that the Merlin computer would have assigned a high enough risk to an ambush to warrant sending enough ships to overcome that kind of scenario. The fact that they didn’t suggests that this attack was not their first priority. And that implies that something else had a higher priority. We should be prepared to discover that one or more of our naval bases will be attacked in the coming months.”

“Is there anything that we can do to prevent or mitigate that, Admiral?”

“We’re attempting to warn our bases as quickly as we can of the original attack and that they should be on alert. We’ve chartered commercial freighters to carry the warning to our main bases because we just don’t have the manpower to send what few light cruisers have returned and also recommission the heavy cruisers the rebels were unable to hijack. It’ll be months before those warnings arrive. I can’t guarantee that our warnings will get there before the rebels attack.”

“Hm. Do you have any good news for me?”

Granger took a deep breath as she gathered her thoughts. “We’re gradually finding crews for more heavy cruisers. The company that developed the computer technology used in the Merlin and M2 machines is in the process of gearing up to manufacture the parts for a new machine which will likely be named M3. Until we can replace the Merlin clone that was lost in the HQ attack, we’ll be fighting with both hands tied behinds our back, but we’re on the path to addressing that deficit.”

DeChastelaine nodded. “I realize that you’re facing a myriad of challenges and are dealing with them as best you can, Admiral. Please keep me informed of any new developments, good or bad.”

“I will, Madam President. Thank you for seeing me today.”

DeChastelaine watched the admiral leave her office. This may be a situation that we can’t win, and if that’s the case, Admiral, someone is going to have to fall on their sword and take the blame, whether they deserve it or not. I hope you won’t have to fill that role.

Francesca Magilen arrived at her new office, such as it was, with a frustrating amount of effort due to the fact that she was still getting used to her powered exoskeleton. Just four more weeks of wearing this damn thing, and I’ll be able to walk on my own. But at least I can DO something instead of lying in a hospital bed. The promotion to Commander doesn’t hurt either, but I can’t get too excited over it. Granger is promoting every warm body she can find.

As she settled down in the chair behind the desk, the computer sensed her presence and satisfied itself that she was the correct person to sit there. The screen on the opposite wall lit up to show her what tasks she needed to start working on.

“What the hell?” She reread the first task to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood. “Review personal effects of the crew from the rebel battlecruiser for clues to rebel plans or intel on rebel assets. What kind of bullshit job is this?” A quick check revealed that the task had been assigned to her by Admiral Granger herself. The personal effects were in a container that was waiting to be delivered. She recognized that she really didn’t have any choice in the matter and arranged for the container to be delivered to her office.

When it arrived, she opened it and found dozens of items ranging from 3D image projectors to data tablets to jewelry. All the data tablets were no longer functional, and her guess was that they had been damaged from concussion impacts. Of the half dozen image projectors, only three were still working. The first one showed the smiling face of a young boy who said ‘hi’ to his father. The second was the last few seconds of the birth of a baby with the expected sounds and words being said. The third projector was more interesting. It showed a man and a woman, arm in arm, strolling along what looked like a river with a modern cityscape on the other side. As she watched, the image stopped, and the date appeared. There was something about the date that bothered her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. The date was 144 days earlier. When she thought about that, it occurred to her that the date couldn’t be correct because of the travel time required for the hijacked battlecruiser to travel to a colony world to pick up the owner of the image and then come back to Sol for the attack.

“It has to be a nearby colony,” she said out loud to herself. The cityscape looked like any modern city, and she didn’t recognize which planet it was on, but a computer search might be able to make a match. The search only took a few minutes. The answer was Malverton, the capital of Marduk. But Marduk was 610 light-years from Earth, and at the standard FTL velocity of 10 hours per LY, a one-way trip from Marduk to Earth would take 6,100 hours or 255 days. It was, therefore, impossible for someone to board the battlecruiser on Marduk with this image projector 111 days before the image was captured. And that didn’t even take into consideration that the hijacked battlecruiser couldn’t have left Earth’s moon and then traveled to Marduk and back in the 48 days since the original attack. Was it possible that the battlecruiser had picked up the owner of the image somewhere closer to Earth? Not if the date was correct. Therefore the date had to be wrong. But why would someone record a false date on a personal image device? She wondered if the cityscape could somehow date when the image was taken.

“Computer, show me the most recent image of Malverton skyline.”

The image that appeared on the wall display was nine months old. It was from a completely different angle, but she was able to identify specific buildings by their shape and location. The recorded image also showed a building that was under construction. Magilen checked the projector cityscape image carefully. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise up when she noticed that there was a building in the projector image that was not in the recorded picture and that building was in the right location to be where the building under construction was. That meant that the projector picture was taken at least several weeks but more likely several months after the recorded picture. A check confirmed that the recorded image had been part of a standard data dump that had arrived on a Terra-Baldur-Marduk company freighter just ten days ago. Granted that the freighter had made stops along the way, but even a direct flight between Marduk and Earth would not have gotten the recorded image here much faster. But somehow, the projector image take months later ended up on a hijacked warship that came back here three days ago. My God. The rebels have a faster FTL drive. Once she formulated that conclusion, it seemed obvious, at least to her. But just the projected image by itself might not be convincing to anyone else, especially Admiral Granger. She wondered if the tablets might hold additional clues. They were damaged, but the data they contained might still be accessible. That would require technical help. She started searching for the right person.

Forty-eight hours later, Magilen carefully made her way into the small conference room that was near Admiral Granger’s office. Granger was already there. She waited until Magilen had uploaded her presentation into the table computer for display on the opposite wall, and she took note of the difficulty the Captain had in moving around. She’s the only survivor of the HQ attack, and she was closer to the site than other people who didn’t survive. Her doctors are amazed at her determination to get back on her feet. Is it possible she’s imagining this super-FTL claim in order to satisfy her need for doing something important?

“I’m ready to begin, Admiral,” said Magilen. Granger nodded. Magilen stepped over to stand next to the wall display.

“I want to thank you for taking some of your time to listen to this presentation. I know how busy you must be.”

“You can thank my Aide for convincing me to listen to what you have to say, Captain. Lieutenant Danby has a good head on his shoulders, and I’ve learned to listen to him when he’s convinced that he’s right. You clearly impressed him with your data, and he insisted that I listen to it as well. I have to tell you, though, that I’m very skeptical that clandestine elements of the System States Alliance military have FTL technology that could be ten times faster than what we have. But if you’re right, then this would be a tremendous intelligence coup. So please begin your presentation.”

“Yes, Admiral. I think your Aide made you aware that this data came from a task that you assigned to me, namely the review of personal effects from the dead crew of the hijacked battlecruiser. Most of the items were damaged by battle effects, but I was able to view this image.” The projector image of the couple in front of the cityscape appeared on the display.

“That city has been positively identified as Malverton on Marduk. The date on this image is one hundred forty-six days ago.” She stopped when Granger put up her hand to interrupt.

“That’s not possible.”

Magilen grinned. “That’s what I thought at first, too, and you’re right, it isn’t possible with the standard jump drive we currently have. If this was all the evidence I uncovered, I’d be inclined to dismiss it as someone having entered the wrong date either deliberately or accidentally, but there’s more. This other image of Malerton has been confirmed as having been taken approximately nine months ago. It was then included in the standard data dump when a TBMS freighter carried it from Marduk to here, arriving twelve days ago. These four buildings are in both images. This building in the projector image is not in the data dump image, but it is in the right location to be this building under construction. If I zoom in both images, you can see that the partially completed building is of the same style as the finished building in the projector image. That means that this picture had to have been taken after the hyper-freighter had left Marduk. That building could have been completed by the date on the image, which strongly suggests that the date is accurate.” She paused to manipulate the display before continuing.

“Once it occurred to me that a faster FTL drive could explain how this later picture found its way onto a hijacked battlecruiser, I found the technical help I needed to access the data inside the damaged tablets that were among the personal items. We were able to download this image.”

Granger leaned forward to get a better look at the display, which showed several individuals wearing the kinds of clothing that technicians or engineers would wear, but it was the background that interested her. The individuals were standing on a rocky plateau with an ocean in the background.

“You think you know where that is?” she asked.

“Yes, Admiral, I do.”

“But it could be anywhere on a hundred planets.”

“It could, but you see that dot up in the sky on the right side?” Granger nodded. The image zoomed in to that dot which became a peculiar-looking bird. “I checked the records. There’s a system that’s forty-nine light-years away that has a planet covered with water except for one rocky plateau, and it has a bird species that looks very much like this. The warships hijacked from the moon depot had standard FTL drives. If the rebels did have a faster drive, it would make sense for them to modify those ships as quickly as possible. The plateau on this ocean planet is big enough to allow for ships to be landed along with room for the necessary technical support. I think the rebels brought the hijacked ships to this planet, modified them with the new drives, and then took them somewhere else where the person with the projector image came aboard.”

“Marduk?” asked Granger.

“Not unless the new tech is about twenty-one times faster. Ten times is one order of magnitude. That by itself would make a huge difference.”

“I think you’re on to something here, Captain. But we need to know exactly how much faster this new drive is if we’re going to try to compensate for it.”

“There is one way to find out, Admiral. Send a team of experts to the crippled battlecruiser and examine her jump drive.”

Granger shook her head. “I’ve already thought of that. The ship was going so fast that by this time, it’s beyond the boundaries of our star system. Finding it again is going to be very difficult, maybe impossible.”

“I volunteer to command that mission. Just give me a ship, any ship, Admiral, and a crew and a team of experts.”

“I admire your determination, Captain, but you can barely move around here on the ground.”

“Not a problem, Admiral. Once we’re underway, the artificial gravity can be reduced to a level that I can handle without needing this damn exoskeleton. I won’t try going across to the cripple. I’ll stay on the ship. Let me try, Admiral.”

“Alright. You’ve convinced me that we should take a good look at that ship’s jump-drive. Finding a crew for a ship will take some effort, but you’ll be in command.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” It became clear that the meeting was over when Granger stood up and, after giving Magilen a nod, headed for the door.

Chapter Eighteen

Klem Zareff circled the Barathrum volcano complex in his salvaged recon craft and watched as the last freighter lifted out of the mouth of the volcano. There were still ten minutes left before the fission warhead brought in from Tanith would detonate and destroy the entire shipyard complex to keep it from being used by the Federation again. The attack on Terra and the hijacking of the warships on the moon was the opening salvo of the second war for independence, and Merlin had decreed that the industrial complexes on Koshchei and the Barathrum complex could not be kept in operation for the benefit of the Phoenix organization without the Feds attempting to take them over. So, rather than commit scarce military resources to defend them, the decision had been made to destroy them. With the transfer of most of the equipment from Poictesme to Tanith, it was now the Rebellion’s primary arsenal. The evacuation of Koshchei was in its final stages. The Fed Navy personnel stationed there had been dropped off on Poictesme, and enough fission warheads had been planted so that when they detonated, there would be nothing left on Koshchei except radioactive ruins.

Zareff told his autopilot to gradually spiral higher and further away from the Barathrum complex. The freighter was now just a tiny speck in the sky, and there was no reason to stay this close anymore. He intended to watch the explosion to make sure that nothing went wrong. After that, a supersonic hop over to Storisende to make sure that all corporate records of the salvage company had been destroyed, then back to his plantation near Litchfield. As far as he was concerned, his participation in the war effort was over. As much as he supported the goal of throwing off the shackles of the corrupt Federation, he was old enough to realize that taking a more active role was not only unnecessary, it was also stupid. Phoenix had paid him handsomely for his assistance, and managing his Mellon plantation for whatever number of years he had left suited him just fine.

As the countdown timer reached zero, the top half of the volcano exploded outward, and the typical mushroom cloud rose into the sky. His recon craft was shielded against radiation, and he could watch via the craft’s external video camera. The sight of the mushroom cloud brought back painful memories of the bombing of Kindelberg on Ashmodai during the war with the knowledge that his family had been vaporized by it. With the detonation now confirmed, he took manual control of the craft and headed for Storisende. Some wounds just never heal.

Gimli star system:

Bentrik waited patiently for the various ships in what he thought of as his fleet to find each other after emerging from jumpspace at the edge of the Gimli system. At this distance, it was safe to scan with radar since those signals would not reach the naval base on the planet Gimli for hours, and the fleet would make its move on that base long before then. He looked over at Captain Foley, who was standing behind the Tactical Officer as they checked the radar scan results. Bentrik had gotten to know Foley much better during the trip from Tanith. He liked her, and the thought of their professional relationship possibly evolving into some more had occurred to him. But that would have to wait until the Phoenix was triumphant and the Federation was smashed.

Foley turned to Bentrik. “We’ve picked up Yorktown, Admiral. She’s detected us too and is already maneuvering closer.”

“Very good, Captain. Two more to go.”

“Yes, Sir.”

It took another 22 minutes to find the two hyper-freighters and 33 more minutes for all four ships to come together into a tight formation. By this time, Lexington’s AO had a series of micro-jumps calculated that would enable Task Force 1 to penetrate the system sun’s no-jump zone and approach Gimli from the opposite side of where the base was. Bentrik had briefly considered a direct approach while pretending to be Fed Navy ships, but Foley convinced him that the Base Commander would naturally be suspicious of two supposedly mothballed battlecruisers and two ultra-large freighters heretofore not seen in the Navy’s fleet list showing up without any prior warning. When all four ships were ready, they executed the first micro-jump.

Eighteen hours later:

Colonel Roscoe Allenby stood on the top of the ridge overlooking the flat basin where the Fed naval base was located. It was the middle of the night, and Gimli’s moon was below the horizon. The darkness was so complete that he couldn’t see his hands when his arms were stretched out in front of him, without the night vision equipment he wore. He listened to the clipped chatter of his subordinate leaders over the headphones in his helmet as he used the night vision equipment to scan the base. There were some lights on down there since there was no reason not to, but the lack of any movement confirmed his assumption that, except for a few personnel on night duty, the rest of the base was asleep. There was no light cruiser on the ground, which simplified the operation. Allenby turned to look behind him at the ten laser-armed tanks and 20 armored personnel carriers, each carrying 20 infantry wearing combat armor, all vehicles contra-gravity equipped. At his signal, they would fly over the ridge and dive down to skim the surface of the basin at the height of just ten feet. He turned to walk back to the Command APC that was hidden by the ridge. After climbing inside, the interior lights came back on, and he sat down at the command station.

“Raptor Leader to all Raptors. We execute on a five-count. Five…four…three…two…one…NOW!” He felt the Command APC lift then surge forward. None of the other vehicles were transmitting anything now. The base was five miles away, and his force would cover that distance in less than three minutes. Each APC was assigned a specific building to secure while the tanks kept an overwatch to deal with any resistance that the infantry couldn’t handle. No one was expecting that kind of resistance, but Allenby agreed with the Admiral that it was better to have the tanks and not need them than to need them and not have them.

With the ridge now between the assault force and the ships that were far enough away to avoid being seen by the base, direct comlaser contact was no longer possible until the Command APC rose high enough to re-establish that link, which it would do either when the base was secured or if the assault force needed help from the laser turrets carried by the battlecruisers. Designed for anti-missile defense, they were powerful enough to cut a tank or APC in half in less than a second.

Allenby held his breath as the APCs crossed the base’s outer perimeter. If it was equipped with motion sensors, the personnel manning the base’s command center would be getting warning messages now. He didn’t have long to wait. Many lights suddenly came on at the same time. They’ve detected us! That meant that radio silence was no longer necessary.

“They know we’re here, people! Vehicle gunners, make sure you’re not firing on our own people after they disembark!”

Bentrik had his eyes closed as he sat in his command station chair on Lexington’s Bridge. Normally, that chair would be occupied by the ship’s captain, but Foley was too busy moving from one station to another, checking on systems status and saying a few whispered words of support to her personnel. Bentrik recognized what she was doing. It was called management by walking around. A concept so old that it predated space travel but still effective in some circumstances, such as waiting for hours for news concerning the assault. His style of leadership was to project complete calm at all times, hence sitting with his eyes closed as though he had complete confidence in the outcome of the operation.

“Admiral,” said the Com Officer. Bentrik opened his eyes and swiveled his chair around to look at the officer. “Colonel Allenby reports that the base has been secured.”

“Excellent. Switch the channel to my station, Lieutenant.”

“Go ahead, Admiral.”

“Well done, Colonel. What’s the casualty count?”

“None on our side. A couple of the defenders were shot when they tried to fire on our people, but their injuries aren’t critical. All critical equipment was taken intact as well. We’re accessing their main computer as we speak, Admiral.”

“That’s better than we were expecting. I’m very pleased with this result, Colonel. Please pass that on to your people. We’ll bring our ships over to the base shortly. Bentrik clear.”

One minute later, all four ships were heading for the base. Bentrik was already thinking about the next operation. There were eight bases like the one on Gimli. The two freighters had been loaded with enough tanks, APCs, troops, and equipment to take and hold three bases. As more battlecruisers became fully operational on Tanith, they would form three-ship squadrons, and each of the next two squadrons would escort two fully loaded freighters to attack and hold three more and the last two bases, respectively. Once a base was in rebel hands, the tanks left behind would ensure that any returning light cruiser either surrendered or was disabled. Without armor, the light cruisers were vulnerable to laser fire from tanks. And enough troops would be left behind on each captured base to handle both the base personnel and the crews of the captured cruisers. Eventually, skeleton crews for the captured cruisers would be found and deployed in order to use the light cruisers as couriers, but that could wait. It was 24 hours later when Bentrik was satisfied that the base was secure enough that his squadron could move on to the next target, which was Sarpanitum. He gave the order to lift off and watched the external view of the base recede as the ship climbed into space.

Magilen gingerly maneuvered herself over to her command chair. As one of the light cruisers, Pegasus had a Bridge that was compact, and with the lower-than-normal artificial gravity, it was relatively easy for her to get over to the command station. It had taken two days to find the minimum necessary crew to operate Pegasus plus the technical team that would make the inspection. Then, an eight-hour flight to clear the no-jump zone followed by a micro-jump to cover 99% of the eight billion-plus miles that the crippled battlecruiser had already traveled. That was the easy part. The cripple was still moving at 11.3% of light speed while Pegasus was not. It took another 16 hours to get up to the same velocity, then another carefully calculated micro-jump to get within radar range of the cripple. The problem was that the target was nowhere in detection range when Pegasus completed that micro-jump. Magilen had been afraid of this. Normandy’s (she refused to call it by the rebel name) estimated position had been based on astrogational measurements by the Crecy crew as they checked for survivors. At that time, needing to find the cripple again was not considered likely, and the measurements were not as precise as they could have been. Small errors had compounded over the following days so that the cripple was hundreds of thousands of miles off course with no idea of which direction to look for it. Magilen sighed. The was only one thing she could do.

“Okay, Helm. Pick a direction and move laterally at max acceleration until we’ve doubled our effective radar coverage. At that point, we’ll begin a three hundred sixty-degree sweep.” When her order was acknowledged, she turned to the Com Officer. “Advise HQ that we’re beginning a search for the cripple, Lieutenant.”

The search took another 21 hours. With the cripple now on radar, Magilen ordered the HO to begin a tricky rendezvous maneuver so that Pegasus was traveling in the same direction, at the same velocity at a distance of half a mile from the battlecruiser. Magilen hoped that the cripple hadn’t started tumbling. The Crecy crew had managed to stop the slow tumble in order to be able to dock with it. If the cripple had somehow picked up a new tumble, the mission might have to be aborted because her skeleton crew didn’t have the necessary manpower to deploy draglines that would halt the tumble. With the technical team now on their way over in one of Pegasus’s auxiliary craft, Magilen and the Bridge crew watched the craft’s forward video transmission in silence. The pilot’s voice was coming over the loudspeakers.

“Okay, radar shows five hundred yards. Rate of closure is ten feet per second. I’m turning on the external lights. Can you see the target, Pegasus?”

“Affirmative, Lieutenant,” said Magilen. The main display showed a dark circle partially lit up by the craft’s lights. “What’s the status of the target hull?” asked Magilen.

“It doesn’t appear to be tumbling. Range is down to three hundred yards. I’m slowing down the rate of closure. Don’t want to misjudge the timing and smash into her.” Magilen said nothing.

“Range is two hundred yards. Jeeze, this is a big sucker. I see one of the side docking ports. I’ll try to dock there. Rate of closure five feet per second and slowing…one hundred yards…fifty yards…thirty…ten yards, two feet per second…I’m maneuvering for contact with the docking port. Standby…Okay, we have a hard dock. Shutting down engines.”

“Very good, Lieutenant. Stay aboard the craft while the team performs their inspection,” said Magilen.

“Yes, Sir.” The next half-hour passed with no conversation between Pegasus and the craft because there was nothing to say. Magilen jumped in surprise when she suddenly heard the pilot’s voice.

“I can hear the team coming back now, Pegasus. How was the inspection?” Magilen heard the voice of the team leader answer but couldn’t make out the words. There was a pause, and then the team leader spoke in a normal volume.

“Captain. That cripple’s FTL drive has been modified. We saw parts that we didn’t recognize. We took lots of pictures, but without the proper tools, there was no way to remove them.”

Magilen thought fast. “Do you think you can figure out what those parts do just from the pictures?” The answer was immediate.

“No, Sir. Without the parts, we’d be guessing, and it could take months, maybe years before we’d stumble across the solution.”

“Did you check on the status of the maneuvering engines by any chance?” she asked.

“Yes, Sir. We thought of that too. There’s limited power on the ship, but we were able to confirm that the maneuvering engines are offline. We weren’t able to tell what’s wrong with them, so we don’t know if they can be repaired or what it would take. Sorry, Captain.”

“Understood. Okay, bring your team back while I report to HQ. Magilen clear.”

The report Magilen transmitted would take half a day to get to HQ, and any reply would take just as long to come back. In the meantime, Pegasus maintained its position relative to the cripple. Naturally, the reply arrived during Magilen’s sleep cycle. She had left instructions to wake her if that happened. She read the message on the computer screen in her quarters.

CNO TO MAGILEN: HOLD POSITION RE: CRIPPLE. A BETTER EQUIPPED TEAM IS BEING ASSEMBLED AND WILL BE TRANSPORTED BY FREIGHTER ASAP. ACTIVATE PEGASUS TRANSPONDER TO HELP FREIGHTER FIND YOU. RENDER WHATEVER ASSISTANCE YOU CAN. PASS ON A WELL DONE TO YOUR PEOPLE. ESCORT FREIGHTER BACK WHEN THEY’VE FINISHED. IF POSSIBLE, TURN CRIPPLE’S TRANSPONDER ON IN CASE WE NEED TO REVISIT THE SHIP AGAIN. REPORT TO ME WHEN YOU RETURN. END OF MESSAGE.

The freighter arrived three days later. Its Captain had been a senior lieutenant from a returning light cruiser 36 hours earlier. He wasn’t even sure if his promotion was permanent or just temporary. His crew consisted of the bare minimum that would allow them to operate the ship, but it did carry a dozen technicians with lots of equipment. Magilen spoke to the group leader, who told her that his orders were to take the entire jump drive apart even if it meant cutting pieces off. The plan was to reassemble the pieces back on Earth to get an overall idea of how they fit together and then disassemble the new parts down to their individual components. Pegasus’s technical team was ordered to help with the task. It still took five more days before the entire FTL drive composed of hundreds of pieces was stored securely in the freighter’s cargo hold. The technicians were also able to repair the cripple’s transponder, which was turned on. Pegasus had to adjust its acceleration to match the freighter’s, which meant the return trip took twice as long as the trip out. Upon landing at the Canberra navy spaceport, Magilen was surprised to find that 11 days had passed since she took the light cruiser out. As much as she hated having to put the exoskeleton back on, she did so and reported to Granger’s office.

Granger waved her over to one of the comfortable chairs facing her desk. “How much longer do you think you’ll have to wear that thing, Lieutenant?”

Magilen shrugged. “I’m not sure. I was hoping that being able to move around in lower gravity without it for a few days would help my muscles regain strength, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. The doctors thought another two to three weeks.”

Granger’s expression was sympathetic. “Well, you won’t have to command any ship again until you’re completely recovered. You’ve already done the Navy a big service by deducing the existence of the faster drive. I’ve already read the report from the technical team. They’re confident that we can figure out the basic concept of the new drive within a few weeks. Then we’ll have to build a prototype and test it, but that’s not a big problem given that we still haven’t found crews for most of the heavy cruisers. But when we’ve proven the new drive concept, we’ll begin modifying the drives of the ships we do have crews for. I expect that you’ll be given command of a heavy cruiser at some point.”

Magilen’s eyes opened wide at that remark. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to command a heavy cruiser, Admiral. My background is mainly in Intelligence.”

Granger nodded. “But you did a fine job commanding Pegasus.”

“Yes, but only on a short mission that did not involve combat and a heavy cruiser is quite a different beast compared to a light cruiser.”

“Granted, but you’ve proven you are capable of commanding a ship, and that is an accomplishment that some officers will not have when they’re given a heavy cruiser to command. We are literally scraping the bottom of the barrel for officers and technical crew. If possible, you’ll gain additional experience as an Executive Officer on a heavy cruiser before you’re given one of your own. But unless you specifically request not to be given a command slot, you can expect it to happen in the not too distant future. I’ve already approved a promotion for you to Senior Lieutenant on the basis of this recovery mission you’ve completed. When you’re fully recovered, we’ll talk again about your next assignment.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

“Thank you, Senior Lieutenant. Unless there’s something you wish to speak with me about, we’re done here.”

“No, Sir.”

“Fine. Then you’re dismissed.”

Chapter Nineteen

Heavy cruiser, Waterloo, outskirts of star system GL 434:

Captain Matsu waited patiently for the tactical display to update itself with the data that sensors were picking up immediately after leaving jumpspace. Low-powered radar had already detected Crecy and Cannae, the other two heavy cruisers in her squadron. They were moving to rejoin her ship while the reconnaissance of the system was in progress. What Matsu was most focused on was the water-covered world that Admiral Granger had somehow gotten in her head was the temporary stopover for the hijacked warships. If there were any warships still on the planet, it was Matsu’s job to destroy them.

“Any EM transmissions?” asked Matsu.

“No, Captain. Nothing from the water planet or from anywhere else for that matter,” said the comm officer.

“We might be too late,” said Commander Anton Koslov, the XO.

“Probably, but we’ll get down close enough to make sure,” said Matsu.

Koslov checked the main display’s sidebar. “Crecy and Cannae are just about back in formation, Captain. The AO has the micro-jump calculated.”

“Very well then. Let’s see what’s down there. Hannah, when the squadron is ready to jump, go ahead and do so.” The AO acknowledged the order. A few seconds later, Matsu heard her voice that was now also coming out from the loudspeakers.

“Jumping in five…four…three…two…one…now!”

The micro-jump brought the squadron still in formation to the edge of the no-jump zone. The water planet was a third of the way around this system’s sun, and the trip through normal space would take a minimum of eight point nine hours. Matsu was glad that she had arranged the jump from Earth to arrive in this system shortly after the ship’s night cycle was complete so that she and her crew would still be alert when they arrived at the water planet.

The 8.9 hours passed uneventfully. Even before entering orbit around the planet, the external optics were able to zoom in on the plateau with enough resolution to confirm that there were no ships sitting there. Matsu gave the order for her squadron to land on the plateau. There was no way she was going to pass up the opportunity to see with her own eyes the only landmass on a world covered with water. According to the Astrographic database, there was no other known planet like this one. Luckily, the plateau was in daylight when the three ships landed. The external optics had already shown what had probably been temporary shelters left behind that were now succumbing to the destructive forces of the winds and that rains. In fact, it was raining as Matsu stood on the threshold of the outer airlock to look out over the plateau. She heard Koslov come up to stand beside her.

“I’ve just talked with Crecy’s TO. He says their radar was aimed at the surface on their way down, and it appears that there’s something made of metal and lots of it that’s apparently floating on the surface of the ocean. They weren’t able to get a good look at it, but the TO thinks it could be a ship.”

“A ship? Why would a ship have landed in the ocean?”

“That’s what I asked him. He said that if some of the hijacked ships were sent here on autopilot without any crew, it’s possible that the autopilots weren’t able to get all of them into orbit, and some may have crashed into the oceans.”

“That could have been what happened. Did Crecy get a fix on where this object was?”

“Yes. We can find it again if we want to take a look,” said Koslov.

“I want some of the off-duty people to go out there and look around to see if the rebels left anything behind that might give us a clue as to where their base is. It’s a long shot, but you never know when Lady Luck will smile on us. Since that will take a little while, tell Crecy’s captain that I want an auxiliary craft to fly out for a close look at the floater. If it’s a ship, I’d like to know whether it’s a battlecruiser or a heavy cruiser.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Lieutenant Travis Malenkov checked the coordinates as the auxiliary craft flew over the ocean. They were getting close to the last reported position of the floater. “Anything on the scope?” he asked Specialist Anne Fossi, the Flight Engineer manning the radar equipment.

“Not yet. I think this is a wild goose chase. I mean, really! A fifteen hundred-foot diameter battlecruiser floating at the top of this ocean? Those ships weigh over a hundred thousand tons!”

“Depends on the internal volume, Anne. It doesn’t matter how heavy something is if the weight of the water it displaces weighs more. Then it’ll float. But I agree with you that this flight is a waste of time. Even if that is a battlecruiser or heavy cruiser, how are they going to recover it? It’s unlikely that an airlock hatch would happen to be where the hull is poking up out of the water. And if they can’t get into the hull, there’s no way to fly it out.”

Fossi snorted. “Ha, that figures. Matsu must have figured…hold it. I’ve got an object on my scope. We’re coming up on it fast, so you better slow down. It’s just off to your left. Can you see it?”

Malenkov throttled back on the engines and looked out the left viewport. The overcast sky and rain had reduced visibility, but he was able to see waves crashing against something in the water. “I see it. I’m going to circle around and spiral down to a low altitude.”

“Just don’t crash into the damn thing,” muttered Fossi.

“Turn on the external camera and begin recording,” said Malenkov.

“Okay, done. We should be able to see it on the cockpit monitor. There it is.” She pointed to the metal object on the screen. “Well, it’s metal alright, but I can’t tell if it’s a ship and, if so, what class.”

Malenkov wanted to get a good look at the object but didn’t want to take his eyes off the controls now that the craft was just a hundred feet above the ocean. “There’s too much wind to try to hover.” He paused and thought for a few seconds. “I want you to go back to the hatch and open it. I’m going to bring this baby down to just above wave height and as we pass over it, see if you can tell what it is.” He thought he heard Fossi swear under her breath but wasn’t sure. As he brought the craft lower, he heard her call from the rear of the craft.

“Hatch is open!”

“Okay, here we go.”

As the craft slowly passed by the object, Fossi could see that it had a slight curve that suggested a spherical shape. The waves were high enough that they were crashing over it. For a few seconds, the metal was clear of water, and Fossi recognized the sparkly shine that she was seeing.

“This thing is armored. It has to be a ship. No hatch in sight, though.”

Malenkov nodded. “We’ve seen as much as we can see. Close the hatch. I’m taking us back to the Crecy.” As Fossi sat back down in the copilot seat, Malenkov looked at her. “Are you sure it was armored?”

“Oh yeah. It has that funny sparkling shine that collapsium armor has. It has to be either a battlecruiser or a heavy cruiser. Freighter hulls aren’t that smooth either. I better make a report back to the Captain.”

Koslov brought the news back to Matsu. “I just heard from Crecy’s XO. Their auxiliary craft found and got a good look with recorded video of the floater. The Flight Engineer is convinced the floater is spherical and collapsium armored, but they couldn’t tell which class of warship it is, and there was no sign of a hatch that could be used to gain entry.”

Matsu nodded. “Then we notify Admiral Granger that there’s at least one warship that might be recoverable and let her worry about how and when to try. How’s the ground search coming?”

“It’s just about finished. The searchers have found all kinds of stuff, mostly garbage but nothing with any Intel value. There’s not much daylight left either.”

“Okay. Let them finish, and then get everyone back on board and make sure everyone’s accounted for. The last thing I want to do is leave someone behind by mistake. When you’ve confirmed that everyone’s on board, we’ll lift off and head home.”

Granger read the report and put the tablet down. She made a mental note to herself to commend Captain Matsu for going the extra mile to investigate the floating object. Even if it was just a heavy cruiser, it was worth trying to recover. And if it turned out to be a battlecruiser and could be recovered, that could open up some interesting possibilities. But gaining access to the interior of the ship would be challenging. Diving equipment would have to be transported there. She wondered if it was better to train navy officers, capable of flying the ship out of the ocean, to dive, or better to train divers on how to program the ship’s autopilot to take the ship into orbit where it could be boarded more easily. There was also the question of possibly dangerous sea life that might pose a threat to the divers. The only question she had to come to grips with right now was who to put in charge of the recovery mission, and it wasn’t a difficult question to answer. She activated her electronic assistant. “Contact Senior Lieutenant Magilen and have her report to me tomorrow morning at 0900 hours.” If Magilen could pull this mission off and recover that ship, she would be promoted to Sub-Commander upon arrival back on Earth.

Granger was surprised to see that Magilen no longer needed the exoskeleton when she walked into the Admiral’s office the next morning.

“Glad to see you walking on your own again, Lieutenant. Have a seat.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

Granger waited until the officer was seated. “First of all, your theory that GL 434’s water planet was used as a waystation to upgrade the hijacked ships has been confirmed. The rebels left enough junk behind to prove that they were using that plateau for some kind of support operation. Unfortunately, they didn’t leave any clues as to where their main base is. But, the Crecy detected a large metallic object floating in the ocean not that far away from the plateau. It was investigated and has been determined to be either a battlecruiser or heavy cruiser that crashed into the ocean. Since the ship is floating, that strongly suggests that it’s still watertight and might still be capable of lifting itself back into orbit or to the plateau if someone can get inside and access the Bridge controls. I’ve decided that recovering that ship is worth the attempt, and I’m putting you in charge of the mission. You’ll have a freighter at your disposal, plus any equipment and technical expertise that you think you’ll need. Take some time to figure out what and who you want, then come back here and give me your equipment and personnel list. There’s no deadline for this mission, so if you need a little extra time to do it right, you can have it. Any questions?”

Magilen thought fast. “For now, just a request for clarification, Admiral. Will I be in command of the freighter?”

Granger smiled and shook her head. “No, but you’ll be in command of the mission, which means the freighter captain will be required to obey your orders. The reason why I’m not putting you in command of the freighter is that it’s a privately-owned commercial ship that the Navy is chartering. It already has a non-navy crew, so there’s no need for a navy captain to command her. No other questions?”

“None that I can think of at the moment, Admiral.”

“Fine. Then I’ll let you get to it. Oh, and by the way, if you bring that warship back, you won’t be just a senior lieutenant anymore. Don’t hesitate to contact my staff if you need anything.”

Magilen stood up and saluted. “Thank you, Sir.” Granger watched her leave with envy. What I wouldn’t give to trade places with her right now. This mission sounds like a lot more fun than trying to rebuild a navy from scratch.

Three weeks later:

Captain Jan Hargraves pretended not to notice Senior Lieutenant Magilen’s entrance to the City of Montevideo’s small Bridge. Why a senior lieutenant was put in command of this mission and was, therefore, able to give him, a captain with 34 years of commercial hyper-freighter experience, orders was unfathomable. It was highly disturbing to think that the Navy was so desperate for officers that they handed this mission to a junior officer like Magilen. Either that or they don’t think the mission is doable, and nobody else was willing to risk being tainted with a failed mission. In any case, the company owning the City of Montevideo was getting a hefty charter fee, and the company, in turn, had told Hargraves that if the mission was successful, he and the crew would get a nice bonus.

“I see that we’re already entering the planet’s atmosphere. Why wasn’t I notified, Captain?” demanded Magilen.

“I was just about to have someone do that, Lieutenant,” said Hargraves without turning to look at the officer.

“I see. Have you begun radar scanning the surface yet?”

“We have. Nothing yet, but that might be because we’re approaching the plateau from a different direction than Captain Matsu’s heavy cruiser squadron did.”

Magilen allowed a pause in the conversation before asking another question. “You don’t have much faith in this project, do you, Captain?”

Hargraves shrugged. “It’s not a matter of faith. I just don’t see a high chance of success. Just because Crecy’s auxiliary craft pilot and Flight Engineer found something that they think is a warship doesn’t mean it is one, and it also doesn’t mean that object is still floating around. And even if it is, still floating, I mean, it could be thousands of miles away from where they saw it by now. This planet has a surface area only slightly smaller than Earth’s. My ship’s radar isn’t powerful enough to scan the surface from orbit. It could take weeks searching with the airboats and still not cover the entire surface.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we brought lots of food along and that your company is getting paid by the day, isn’t it?” asked Magilen.

Hargraves grunted, indicating his refusal to acknowledge her point in words. The landing on the plateau was uneventful. As per Magilen’s orders, the first task would be to establish a temporary base on the plateau. If the warship could be recovered, it would be flown to the plateau first, and only after a careful inspection would Magilen decide whether to send the ship under autopilot back to Sol without a crew or leave it on the plateau for a skeleton crew to pick up later. Her request to bring along enough crew to fly the ship back had not been filled due to other more pressing personnel requirements. In the back of her mind was a daring, some would say reckless, idea that she would stay aboard the warship if it flew back under autopilot. The risk would be considerable. If the jump-drive failed partway back, she’d be stuck in the void between star systems with no ability to effect repairs that a full crew might have. But on the plus side, if the autopilot failed to function correctly for some reason, she could reprogram it on the fly and, in a pinch, take direct manual control of the helm once the ship was back in normal space in the Sol system. That would ensure that the ship didn’t inadvertently plunge into the sun or crash into the moon or Earth as it did here. Enough food and water would have to be transferred to the ship to last her for the trip back, but the freighter had plenty of both. As she entered the freighter’s cargo hold containing the airboats, she saw the airboat pilots chatting with the divers. The pilots saw her coming and broke off the conversation.

“It’s time to begin the search,” said Magilen. The pilots grinned and muttered their acknowledgments. They were all civilian airboat pilots hired by the Navy, and they were eager to earn the bonuses for hours flown. As they boarded the five airboats, Magilen looked at the vehicles more closely. Each airboat was capable of carrying a lot of cargo over long distances within a planetary atmosphere. They used the same contra-gravity lifters as tanks and APCs, and while their overall shape was aerodynamically optimized to reduce drag, they were also designed to land on lakes and rivers to unload at docks or bare shoreline if that was the best place to unload. And that was why they were called airboats and not airtrucks. Each airboat carried two pilots so that they could take turns at the controls to extend search time.

Magilen was just about to use the intercom to tell Hargraves to open the cargo hold hatch when it began to open. It was daylight on the plateau and sunny. She nodded with approval as the airboats exited the ship one at a time and began their assigned search parameters. All five would sweep a wide area around the plateau with the distance between them equal to the scan area of their radars. When one complete circle had been made, they would start a new sweep further away, and by repeating that process, they would gradually widen the search area. Darkness would not be a problem, but pilot fatigue would require that the pilots return to the ship for 8 hours of rest out of every 24. That might potentially be a major problem if the search radius got so large that the airboats spent most of their time traveling to and from the ship. Airboats were not designed to fly supersonic. If only General Santander hadn’t refused her request to borrow an assault shuttle and a couple of Army pilots. They could have scanned the whole planet from orbit in 55 hours. Admiral Granger had appealed to President DeChastelaine, who decided to back the Army. When all five airboats had left the cargo hold, Magilen returned to her quarters. It might be the middle of the day on the plateau, but her internal clock was telling her that she needed sleep.

Search results in the first 24 hours were negative. It was the second day when one of the airboats found the floating ship. Everyone assumed it was the same one that Crecy’s people had found, although the location was several hundred miles away from the previous contact. With a homing beacon magnetically attached to the ship to make it easier to find again, the airboats were called back so that the pilots could rest. Two airboats would go out the next day with divers to make an initial reconnaissance of the floating ship. Magilen made sure she would be wide enough awake to accompany them in order to make on-the-spot decisions if necessary. Before leaving Earth, she had made the decision that it was easier to train naval officers on how to become divers than it would be to train divers on how to program a warship’s autopilot. Since she would be the only naval officer on the mission, she took the time to learn the basics of using the diving equipment. The professional divers hired for the mission would provide backup and watch her back for signs of underwater predators. The diving equipment was a shell made from carbon fiber in the shape of a human being where the arms and legs had the same kind of flexibility as human limbs. The shell provided protection against the water pressure even down to 1,500 feet if the ship turned out to be a battlecruiser and if the only access hatch was at the deepest part of the hull. The diving apparatus had hand controls for the motors that would move the diver up, down, left or right, backward or forwards. Each of the two airboats carried an open metal cage that would contain two divers and would be lowered into the water, and it would lift them back up when they were done.

The first dive was intended to reconnoiter the outside of the hull to see if there was any damage. Magilen didn’t expect to find any damage considering that the collapsium armor would be impervious to the impact of the ship hitting the water, but she was determined to be as thorough as possible. If there was any damage, then the ship’s buoyancy might be in jeopardy. She had had nightmares about being trapped inside the hull while it sank to the bottom of the ocean with the maneuvering engines unable to lift it back up. All three divers insisted on using their first names only. Adriana would accompany Magilen while Mohamed and Frank would be lowered in the other cage by the other airboat.

Even with her training, Magilen still found the moment when her shell slipped beneath the surface of the ocean disconcerting.

“You okay, LT?” asked Adriana over the radio.

“Yea, I’m fine. Let’s exit the cage. I’ll take the lead. You, Frank, and Mohamed form up behind me, okay?”

“Okay,” said Adriana and Frank. Mohamed was the last to reply with a “Roger that.”

As they approached the hull, Magilen used the short-range sonar in her shell to get an idea of the hull’s size. The indicated diameter of the hull was 1,500 feet. “It’s a battlecruiser!” she yelled out.

“Is that good or bad?” asked Mohamed. Magilen couldn’t tell if he was serious or was trying to be funny.

“It’s good…I think,” she said.

For the next hour, the four of them slowly circled the hull, starting at the top and working their way down with each pass. When she came across one of the ship’s side airlock hatches, she wanted to curse out loud but resisted the impulse. The ideal position for an airlock hatch in this situation was at the top, where part of the hull was above the surface of the ocean. That would make entry relatively easy. But that’s not where either of the airlock hatches was. The second best location would be at the bottom of the hull in terms of the deepest part. Opening the airlock there would keep the water out of the ship because of the air trapped inside. Airlocks anywhere else, like this one, if opened, would allow water to enter, and if the airlock’s inner hatch also happened to be open, the surge of incoming water could cause the ship to start sinking before she could close either hatch. With water flooding in under pressure, she might not be able to reach the hatch controls. With one airlock a quarter of the way down the side of the hull, that meant the other airlock was about a quarter of the way up from the bottom of the hull. She spent about five minutes pondering what to do and finally decided that whatever solution she came up with would not be implemented right then and there.

“Let’s continue with the recon,” she said. The others agreed. Five hours later, with the hull completely inspected and all four of them exhausted, she decided that they were done for the day and ordered the others to return with her to the airboats. It was raining by the time the airboats carefully re-entered the cargo hold and settled down on the deck. Everyone was hungry, and Magilen accompanied them to the less than spacious crew lounge, where the crew ate their meals. Mohamed, Frank, and Adriana sat at her table to talk over the problem while they ate.

“What about magnetically attaching a heavy weight to the hull where that airlock is so that the weight pulls that side of the ship down until it’s at the bottom?” asked Mohamed.

Magilen thought about that for a few seconds before nodding. “That might work. The airlock hatch itself, and the frame around the hatch is ordinary steel to allow for a magnetically tight docking seal when another ship or craft tries to dock with it. If the hatch were made from collapsed matter, it’d be too heavy to open or close using mechanical means. I’m thinking that the hull is oriented the way it is now because the internal mass isn’t evenly distributed and it rotated until the heaviest part of the ship was at the bottom. The problem is that we don’t know how uneven the mass distribution is. It could be half a ton, or it could be five hundred tons given how much internal space there is in that fifteen hundred foot diameter sphere. We might attach something weighing a ton and find that it makes no difference at all.”

“What about using one of the airboats?” asked Adriana.

Magilen didn’t understand what Adriana was getting at and said so.

“The airboats have magnetic docking clamps as a backup for transferring cargo from a freighter that’s unable to land. So, it should be able to dock with one of the ship’s airlock hatches.”

Before she could continue, Frank interjected. “Too much buoyancy. The airboat would never be able to get deep enough.”

“If we load one airboat with every piece of loose equipment on the freighter, it might be heavy enough to dive down to the right depth,” responded Adriana.

“It’s worth a try,” said Magilen.

Captain Hargraves wasn’t thrilled with the idea of using his ship’s equipment as ballast, but Magilen reminded him that he was obliged to obey her orders. It took most of the rest of that workday to load every tool or equipment that could be moved into one of the airboats and secured. When they were done, there still seemed to be a lot of empty space in the airboat’s cargo hold in Magilen’s opinion, but a quick check of the freighter’s cavernous cargo hold that spanned one entire deck except for the central core of the ship revealed that there was nothing left that could be loaded.

The attempt the next day was a failure. The airboat still wasn’t heavy enough to displace all the water that its hull would have pushed aside if it had been totally submerged. As the airboat flew back to the plateau, Magilen was standing behind the pilot, watching the forward video feed on the console display. The freighter still had its cargo hatch open to allow the airboat to enter. With seconds left to go before entering the cargo hold, Magilen had an idea. She touched the pilot’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Don’t enter the hold. Land on the plateau,” she said.

“Where?” asked the pilot.

“Anywhere. I want to go out and look around.”

“Okay.”

The landing was a little bumpy because the bare surface of the plateau was irregular. The airboat ended up sitting on a slight angle to one side. As Magilen stepped down from the side hatch to the plateau, she heard Hargraves’ voice over her com unit earpiece.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” He sounds annoyed…again. She mentally shook her head at the fact that Hargraves’ attitude was making the mission even more difficult than it already was.

“No problem. I haven’t taken the opportunity to take a really good look around the plateau, and I decided that now would be the time. By the way, Captain, does your ship carry any equipment that’s capable of breaking up rock?”

“No. What would we need something like that for?”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping we could break up some of the top of the plateau in order to load the pieces on the airboat.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to come up with another idea then,” said Hargraves.

Magilen said nothing and heard the click that told her that Hargraves had cut the connection. She walked around the airboat, hoping to see loose rocks or boulders, but the top of the plateau was bare of any loose material. It occurred to her that if there had been any loose material, the winds generated by storms would have blown it off. Having made a complete circuit of the airboat, she climbed back aboard and told the pilot to fly it back into the freighter’s cargo hold. As he did so, she carefully walked around the airboat’s cargo hold, looking at the equipment that had been loaded. She hadn’t watched every piece being loaded and was therefore surprised to see a bar of metal about an inch in diameter and roughly four feet long with a loop in the middle clamped to the deck of the cargo hold. When the airboat had settled down on the ship’s deck, and the pilot was on his way back to the hatch, Magilen waved him over and pointed to the bar.

“Do you know what that is and what it’s used for?”

The pilot shrugged. “Some kind of anchor, I think.”

As she stepped off the airboat, Magilen saw the ship’s Cargo Master and called him over.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“What’s that rod with the loop in the middle for?” asked Magilen, pointing to the inside of the airboat.

“The rod? Oh, that. It’s an anchor that we sometimes use when the ship is landing in a body of water on planets that don’t have reinforced landing fields. Bare soil gets crushed from the ship’s weight, causing a deep depression, so less-developed planets prefer us to land on a river or the edge of a lake, and if the water is deep enough, the ship will float, so we need something to keep it from drifting away from the loading dock.”

“That skinny metal rod is strong enough to hold this ship in place?” she asked.

“Sure. It’s made from collapsed matter. It actually weighs over four tons. We had a hell of a time getting it into the airboat. I guess you missed that part.”

Magilen thanked him and went back inside the airboat to get a second look. Sure enough, the other end of the rod was a sharp point. She had missed that detail the first time around. As she stepped down to the cargo hold deck again, Hargraves, who was approaching, noticed that Magilen had a smile on her face.

“I’ve figured out how to get the rock pieces I want, Captain,” she said as he came up to her. “Your collapsed matter anchor rod. We’ll drop it point first from enough height so that it shatters chunks of rock that we can load onto the airboat.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” said Hargraves after a pause. “That’ll never work.”

“Well, we’re going to find out if it does or doesn’t work. Have that rod unloaded, Captain, and moved over to the open cargo hatch. When that’s done, we’ll lift off and try dropping it from a couple of hundred feet.” Hargraves looked like he was going to refuse but turned around instead and called for the Cargo Master, who had been walking away.

The first drop was disappointing. The rod hit at an angle and only kicked up a few small pieces that weren’t worth bothering with. The second drop was from twice as high and created a few chucks that were worth bothering with, but a slow-motion replay of the hit, recorded by one of the airboats, showed that the rod didn’t hit the plateau exactly perpendicular. That gave Magilen an idea. The ship’s engineering staff were directed to make a metal sleeve that had fins set at an angle so that the rod would start to spin as it fell. The sleeve was held in place by a strip of metal through the loop. This time the rod hit perfectly and gouged out chunks that were too heavy for a human to lift but could be loaded into the airboat by cargo-moving equipment. Three more drops from even higher altitudes created pieces that were almost a ton each. The equipment already in the airboat had to be shifted to make room for the rock pieces and securing them was difficult enough that the Cargo Master could be heard swearing from one end of the ship’s cargo hold to the other. But eventually, the airboat’s hold was full.

The attempt was made early the next day. By now, Magilen and the rest of the personnel had gotten used to this planet’s day/night cycle. Two of the pilots would fly the airboat and try to dock with the ship’s airlock. Magilen would be aboard another airboat that would hover a few feet over the floater. If the plan worked, the floater’s hull would rotate so that the docked airlock was at the bottom while the other airlock, on the exact opposite side of the ship, would be at the top where Magilen could try to access it. It just so happened that the weather was cooperating with very little wind, and the ocean was relatively calm. When both airboats were ready, Magilen gave the order to proceed. She listened to the radio transmissions of the loaded airboat as it sank beneath the waves.

“Okay, buoyancy is negative, so we’ll keep sinking until I boost engine power to compensate,” said the pilot. His buddy, acting as co-pilot, said, “If our engines fail, we’ll sink to the bottom of this ocean. I hope you realize that, LT.”

“Understood,” said Magilen.

“We’re coming up on the same depth where you found the airlock. I’ve applied enough thrust to hold this depth, and we’re now moving closer to the floater…Okay, we see the airlock. We’re going to start our docking maneuver now. Okay, Karl, you handle pitch while I take care of yaw. Here we go.”

Magilen listened to the clipped and tense-sounding commentary between the two pilots as they fought the airboat’s awkward buoyancy to orient the craft on an angle so that the extended docking collar could be flush with the airlock frame.

“That’s it! Little more…a little more, Karl. Bingo! We have a hard seal! I’m cutting our vertical thrust now…Depth is increasing, so this appears to be working, LT.”

Magilen looked at the top of the floater. Collapsium armor was so smooth that it was impossible to tell if the hull was rotating. She kept watching and eventually saw the other airlock slide up out of the water. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop when it reached the highest point but kept on moving until it was submerged again. Maybe it’s just the momentum of the roll that carried it too far. It might come back on its own.

“How are you guys doing?” she asked while she waited.

“Okay, considering that we’re sitting in our seats upside down now,” said the pilot. “Have you got the other airlock set up yet?”

“Not yet. I rolled past from the momentum, I think. I’m hoping it’ll come back up. Wait…there it is. It’s rolling too far the other way now but not all the way below the surface. I think the swings are dampening out. Hang on a bit longer, guys.”

“Yeah, like we have a choice,” said the co-pilot in a low voice that Magilen was still able to hear. The airlock was slowly coming back to the top. Magilen held her breath until the airlock seemed to hold its position.

“The airlock is stable now. I’m dropping down to the hull. When I get inside, I’ll be out of radio contact.” She gestured to the pilot of her airboat to drop even lower. When there were just three or so feet beneath her, she jumped out of the open airboat hatch and landed on the floating hull near the airlock and the control panel next to it. Her heart was beating fast, as was her breathing. She oriented herself to the control panel so that she didn’t activate the wrong control and touched it with her hand. The hatch slid open, which demonstrated that the ship still had some power, at least.

“I’m about to enter the ship! Here I go!” She grabbed the hatch frame and lowered herself down as she looked around. There was enough light spilling into the airlock to show that the internal hatch was also open. If she let go of the frame, she’d drop through the internal hatch down a long corridor in a drop that was long enough to be fatal. With the inner hatch directly below the outer one, she swung her body over to one side before letting go. That landing on what normally would have been the inner wall of the airlock was jarring but otherwise okay. With that realization came a new one. How was she going to close the outer hatch when the controls were out of reach above her? If I can’t close the outer hatch, then I have to get inside the ship and at least close the inner hatch to keep the ship from being flooded when the next big wave comes across. The problem with that goal was similar to what she had just accomplished. Dangling from the inner hatch frame over a corridor that was now a vertical shaft and somehow getting her hands inside the ship AND manipulate the inner hatch controls seemed like an impossibility, but she couldn’t think of any other option.

As she lowered herself through the inner hatch opening, she carefully looked around at what was on the other side. She was surprised to see a railing that ran along what would normally be a wall but was now the ceiling. By adjusting the position of where her hands were gripping the hatch door frame, she was able to reach the railing with one hand and let go the other hand. So far, so good. The control panel for the inner hatch door was barely within reach. She activated the door control and watched the inner hatch close, blocking off whatever light had spilled in through the open outer hatch. She saw with relief that the emergency lights were still on in the ship.

Adriana had watched Magilen’s entry from the airboat’s open side hatch. When she saw the battlecruiser’s inner airlock door slid shut, she activated the com channel to the other airboat.

“She’s in, and the inner hatch is closed. You can undock now, boys.”

“Roger that,” said the pilot.

Adriana watched as the hull began to rotate again and the airlock slid under the water. The water rushing into the airlock displaced the air, which bubbled up to the surface.

Magilen nodded her approval as the ship began to rotate. The ceiling with the railing quickly became a wall. She hung on, expecting the rotation to go too far the other way before rotating back, and she was correct. The wall almost became the floor before slowly shifting back to mostly vertical. When the ship became stable again, the deck beneath her feet was on an angle and what had been a shaft was once again a corridor that was sloped upward.

Getting to the Bridge was harder and took longer than she expected. For some reason, the central elevator wasn’t responding. That meant she had to use the emergency access shafts and climb up the equivalent of 55 stories worth of access ladders. It was with much relief when she entered the Bridge. The first task was to communicate with the rest of the team.

“Magilen calling salvage team. Do you read me? Over.”

“We read you, LT!” Adriana’s voice sounded relieved. “You had us worried when we didn’t hear from you for what seemed like a long time. Over.”

“It takes a while to climb up fifty-five levels in an access shaft. I’ll be trying the helm controls in a second. Make sure both airboats are a safe distance away. Stand by.”

She stepped over to the helm station and strapped herself in the chair. As she activated the controls, power levels rose to normal, and the virtual control dome lowered until her head was inside it. She could now access the virtual controls with her hands and with her eyes.

Adriana was still standing in the open hatch when the battlecruiser began to rise up out of the water slowly. My God, that’s one big fucking ship! She giggled at the thought and grabbed hold of the handholds tighter as the airboat banked to put more distance between it and the ship. The two airboats followed the ship back to the plateau, where Magilen switched from manual flight control to automated landing due to her lack of experience landing battlecruisers or any other ship, for that matter. With all systems working, including the central elevator, she was able to exit the ship within a couple of minutes of shutting down the engines and setting all other systems to standby mode. Hargraves was waiting for her at the bottom of the boarding ramp. He looked reluctantly impressed.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant. Lady Luck was smiling on you today.”

“Thank you, Captain, and yes, she was. I was very lucky today. How soon can your people begin loading supplies for my trip back? I’ve decided to ride shotgun over the autopilot.”

Hargraves chuckled. “Why am I not surprised? You’ll have to show my Cargo Master where the supplies should go because none of my crew knows the layout of a battlecruiser. As soon as he knows, he’ll start getting the personnel organized. Can I assume that we can unload the rocks and equipment from the airboat?”

“You can. I’ll just get my things from your ship transferred to the Saguntum, and then I’ll show your Cargo Master where the supplies should go.”

“Saguntum? Is that the name of this ship?” asked Hargraves.

“It is. All Navy warships built during the war were named after ancient battles. Saguntum is the name of the town in Spain where the Carthaginians started the second punic war in 219 BC.”

The trip back to Earth took three weeks. Three weeks of mind-numbing boredom since there was nothing for Magilen to do while the ship was in jumpspace. She had moved into the largest quarters the ship had, which was normally reserved for an admiral if one was using the ship as the flagship of a squadron or fleet. The freighter had taken off from the water planet at the same time and had entered jumpspace at the same time, and therefore, both ships should arrive in the Sol system at the same time. She had turned on Saguntum’s transponder and ordered Hargraves to do the same with his ship so that both could be located quickly on emergence from jumpspace.

After returning to normal space, Hargraves made a micro-jump to get to the edge of the no-jump zone quickly. Magilen didn’t trust her sketchy knowledge of how to set up a micro-jump and elected to make the rest of the trip the slow way. That took another 21 hours, but during that time, she was in contact with Granger’s staff, who passed on Granger’s order for Magilen to put Saguntum into a high orbit around Earth, where a shuttle would rendezvous with the battlecruiser to transfer a skeleton crew on board and take Magilen off. It just so happened that the shuttle landed at the Navy spaceport in the middle of the night. An airlimo was waiting to take Magilen to the nearest hotel where accommodations had been arranged for her. Granger had left a message for Magilen to show up at the Admiral’s office at 0900 hours. Naturally, Magilen was there on time, but Granger wasn’t. The Admiral waved Magilen into her inner office when she arrived half an hour late.

“Have a seat, Commander.” Magilen was taken aback by the rank and mentally told herself not to get too excited in case it turned out that the Admiral had just made a mistake.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Granger had a smile on her face as she got settled in her chair behind the impressively large desk.

“I read your report, and I also read Captain Hargraves’ report. You left out a few details, Commander, and I’m not using that rank incorrectly. It’ll take a couple of days for the paperwork to go through to make it official, but as far as I’m concerned, you are now a full Commander.” Granger continued before Magilen could respond. “Now, getting back to the details. You glossed over exactly how you managed to get inside the Saguntum. That was taking a hell of a big risk, but it clearly paid off, and the Navy is grateful. If the rebels think that they have all the battlecruisers and we have none, we can use that assumption to our advantage when we deploy ours, which will be as soon as we can get a full crew for her. By the way, now that you’ve proven it can be done, I’ve managed to convince the President to overrule General Santander’s refusal to provide an assault shuttle and army pilots to conduct a thorough orbital search of that water planet for other possible floating ships. You’ll be pleased to know, I think, that you won’t be asked to recover any that are detected. Your job now is to familiarize yourself with what the Executive Officer of a heavy cruiser needs to know to perform her duties in that position. We have a quickie XO course that all newly-promoted officers for that position go through. When you’ve finished it, you’ll be assigned as XO in a heavy cruiser, and when you’ve accumulated enough experience, you’ll get your own cruiser, just as we talked about. Any questions?”

Magilen had to rapidly shift mental gears. “Ah, yes, Sir. May I ask where things stand with the faster FTL drive?”

Granger nodded. “You may. The experts say they’ve figured out what makes the new drive work, and a prototype is about to be tested any day now. When we’ve proven that we know how to build them, we’ll start modifying all jump drives on both Navy and commercial ships. What else?”

“I was wondering if another M2 machine was going to be built, Sir.”

“The company that developed that technology and built the components for the two original machines is tooling up to re-start manufacturing components for the M3. We haven’t quite figured out where to put yet.”

Magilen couldn’t help remembering how big the cargo hold on the City of Montevideo was. “There’s a lot of room on one of those big commercial hyper-freighters, Admiral. If the M3 were installed on one of those, it would have the added benefit of being mobile.”

Granger stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before nodding. “Now that is an idea worth considering. Is there more?”

Magilen blushed. “No, Sir. I’m all out of ideas or questions.”

“Fine. In that case, you’re dismissed, Commander.” Granger surprised Magilen again by standing up and offering her hand. Magilen shook it, and they exchanged salutes. Granger’s Aide had a set of Commander’s insignia waiting for her on her way out.

Chapter Twenty

Rivington City spaceport, Tanith, Day 194 of 877 A.E.

Colonel Allenby was waiting at the bottom of Lexington’s boarding ramp when Bentrik strode down. The three bases that had been assigned as targets for his squadron had been taken with no rebel casualties, a record that was better than expected. On the way in through this system’s no-jump zone, Bentrik had learned that two other squadrons composed of battlecruisers and freighters had left for their assigned targets. But Valley Forge had not returned, and that was an ominous development. Allenby saluted as Bentrik stepped off the ramp. Bentrik returned the salute and then offered his hand to Allenby, who shook it.

“You and your people did an outstanding job, Colonel. In light of the next step in the plan, the taking of Marduk, I think it’s appropriate for you to be promoted to the rank of Lieutenant General.”

“Thank you, Admiral. I’m eager to get that operation underway. I’ve checked with the Army people here, and we have enough troops to meet the minimum requirement that Merlin has calculated. If you can give me a couple of days to re-acquaint myself with the units here, we can jump off whenever you give the word.”

Bentrik looked around the spaceport. In addition to his Lexington and Yorktown, there were ten other battlecruisers and too many heavy cruisers to count quickly. Unless there’d been some kind of hiccup, there should be 29 of them.

“I’ll be taking a few days to get up to speed on the situation here, so the Marduk operation won’t begin that quickly. But by all means, go ahead and make the necessary preparations. What might delay the execution of that mission are the implications of the fact that Valley Forge hasn’t returned from its mission to Earth. I can’t imagine that the loss of one ship would upset Merlin’s entire campaign that drastically, but I’ll be checking with General Augustin and his staff to make sure. Please excuse me now, General. I’d like to check with my staff.”

Bentrik actually went to his penthouse apartment first. While accommodation aboard Lexington was luxurious compared to everyone else’s quarters, it still felt like what it was, being cooped up inside a metal shell. The penthouse apartment, on the other hand, had lots of windows overlooking the surrounding countryside from a considerable height. And while the square footage might not be that much bigger than the ship’s quarters, it felt bigger and more wide open. As he entered his office after making sure the luggage robots knew where to take his things, he noticed that a message was waiting for him from Augustin. He instructed the office computer to playback the message.

“Welcome back, Aren. I’ve already incorporated the results of your mission into Merlin. We should discuss as soon as possible how Valley Forge’s missing in action is impacting the Plan. I’m at the Operations Center now, but I can meet you wherever you wish. Until then.”

“Computer, open a com channel to the Operations Center,” said Bentrik. Augustin answered the call.

“Hello, Aren. I take it you’ve heard my message?”

“Yes. Do I need to come down there in order to be properly briefed on the new developments, or can you brief me here?”

“I’ll come there. Is now a good time?”

“Yes, now. See you shortly, Leonhard.”

By the time that Augustin arrived, Bentrik had his favorite drink in one hand and Augustin’s favorite drink in the other hand. The General took his drink with a grateful smile.

“You read my mind,” he said after taking a sip. “Let’s sit down over by the windows, and I’ll tell you what you need to know.” When they were seated, Augustin took another sip and leaned back.

“Okay, it’s the missing Valley Forge that is muddying the waters, so to speak. Obviously, we don’t know why she hasn’t returned. It could be anything from mechanical malfunction to destruction in combat to capture by the Feds. It’s that last possibility that is the problem. If they’ve captured Siegel’s ship, they will probably notice that its jump drive has been modified, and Merlin says we should assume that they’ve figured out how the improved drive works and will incorporate that breakthrough on all their ships, especially the heavy cruisers that weren’t hijacked. That means that we have a narrow window of opportunity to exploit our faster ships to crush whatever force they’ve managed to build in Sol. Merlin’s calculations show that heading back to Terra with what’s here right now has a better long-term outcome probability than waiting for the other two squadrons to return from their base capture missions.”

“How many fully-crewed battlecruisers are available here?” asked Bentrik.

“With Lexington and Yorktown, the number is nine out of the twelve ships that are sitting at the spaceport.”

“Hm. I find it difficult to believe that nine battlecruisers now have a chance of a better long-term outcome than fifteen battlecruisers would have in about four weeks.”

Augustin shrugged. “I had Merlin run the numbers twice with the same result, and the difference in the long-term probability is not small. It’s significant.”

After a pause, Bentrik said, “What about the new systems? Are they ready yet?”

“Six decoy drones are ready. They’re already loaded, in fact. The other systems aren’t ready to be used in the field yet.”

“What about the ground force mission to Marduk?” asked Bentrik.

“It has to wait. Merlin thinks you should take all available ground forces with you to Terra. If you can neutralize their mobile defenses with the result that Earth is wide open, then those troops can be landed and effectively end this war right then and there. With rebel troops surrounding the Grand Assembly building, the delegates are highly likely to vote to disband the Federation. That would formalize the Federation’s military defeat with a legal proclamation that would be hard to ignore. Once that’s done, you recall the troops, and then you can take them to Marduk, notify the people that the Federation is dead and demand the government’s surrender so that you can restore the prewar Monarchy that the Federation insisted be replaced.”

“It sounds too easy, Leonhard. And better long-term odds or not, the battle against Terra’s heavy cruisers in the short run still has risks attached to it.”

“Merlin says you’ll have a sixty-one point eight percent chance of knocking out their naval forces, a twenty-one percent chance of a draw, and only a seventeen percent chance of an outright defeat.”

Bentrik took a sip of his drink before responding. “Did Merlin suggest a particular tactical plan?”

“It did.” Augustin described the suggested tactics, and Bentrik nodded.

“Hm. That just might work. It’s not subtle, but it does have the advantage of forcing the Fed Navy to come out and fight. If I do have the force advantage, it’ll become clear very quickly.” He paused and stared off into infinity for a few seconds before speaking. “We’ve been working toward this moment in time for almost eight years, Leonhard. Now that it’s here, I don’t mind admitting that I’m nervous about the possibility of screwing it up.”

He swallowed the rest of his drink and stood up. Augustin got the hint and did the same.

“I’ve got a lot to think about, so I won’t be inviting you to join me for dinner tonight,” said Bentrik.

“I understand. I’ll talk with you tomorrow then.”

When Augustin had left, Bentrik stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows to look down at the spaceport and the ships sitting there. He imagined that, except for the mothballed ship depot on the moon, this was the biggest concentration of warships in one place since the first SSA war. It irked him that the military arm of the Phoenix organization hadn’t been able to recruit enough ex-SSA navy veterans to fully man the rest of the battlecruisers, not to mention all those heavy cruisers. In terms of actual combat power, the Phoenix Navy outgunned the Fed Navy by a factor of at least five to one, and yet most of that firepower was unusable for now. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There wasn’t really all that much to consider. If he wasn’t going to take Merlin’s suggestions, then why had he bothered to bring the machine here? Now was not the time to trust his irrational fears over the implacable logic that Merlin represented. He would organize the strike against Earth in the morning. What he really wanted to do right now was allow himself to be distracted by some willing female company. There were half a dozen women living on Tanith who had already let him know that they were quite willing to distract him. All he had to do now was decide which one to call.

Three weeks later:

Admiral Granger woke to the sound of the urgent signal from Space Operations. “Talk to me,” she said in what she hoped wasn’t a sleepy voice.

“The Deep Space Sat Net has picked up sunlight reflections from four ships that have dropped into the system. Triangulation puts them at approximately fifty thousand miles from the zone boundary and directly above us, Admiral. Velocity appears to be low. Less than ten miles per second.”

“That is low, and the position high above the ecliptic is odd too. It’s almost like they want us to see them. Put all defenses on high alert, but ships on the ground stay there until I order otherwise. I’ll be at the SO in fifteen minutes. Granger clear.”

As she got dressed, she told her electronic avatar to have a Navy aircar waiting at the front entrance to take her to Space Operations. With that done, she returned her focus to the sighting. Those ships had to be rebel ships, and yet they were acting in a very peculiar manner. The smart thing to have done would have been to micro-jump into Earth’s shadow to avoid detection by reflected sunlight. With the proper vector, they could have gotten relatively close to Earth before the Near Space Network of radar satellites detected them. Either the rebel commander was a tactical amateur, or he or she was being very cagy. At any rate, moving at 10 miles per second meant that the rebel fleet wasn’t going to get into missile range for hours, although it would cross into the no-jump zone in roughly 83 minutes. That was why she ordered the heavy cruisers sitting on the spaceport tarmac to remain on the ground for now. There was plenty of time to get them into space. The squadrons already in earth orbit and out on the no-jump zone boundary were a different matter. Commodore Carter could be relied upon to keep calm and not do anything impulsive. He would wait for orders from her, but she wasn’t sure what orders to give him now. Four battlecruisers, if that’s what they were, had a lot of firepower. And there was still the question of the other nineteen, no wait, eighteen. The rebels had hijacked 24 altogether, Carter had neutralized one, and that plucky Lieutenant had salvaged another. So, where were the other eighteen? Dangling four in front of her like this could easily be an attempt to get her to commit her entire heavy cruiser force, and then when it was too late to bring them back, the other eighteen could come charging in at high velocity. If that was the rebel plan, they were giving her more credit than she deserved. Out of the total of 23 heavy cruisers left by the hijackers on the moon, only eight had full crews plus the salvaged battlecruiser. The other 15 had no crews at all, but there was the possibility of tying their helm and tactical systems to other ships that were crewed. That concept had been tested in space but not under actual combat conditions. In theory, Alpha squadron could control all 15 unmanned cruisers. That would give Commodore Carter a total of 19 ships capable of firing missiles, but by forcing those 15 cruisers to move in lockstep with the squadron, Carter would be losing some tactical flexibility. Not only that, simulated combat had shown that manned ships flying in formation don’t keep perfect positioning, but remotely-piloted ships do, and an enemy tactical officer with a keen eye might notice that and deduce why most, but not all, of the opposing force was maneuvering that way. The advantage for her was that by keeping the remaining fully-crewed heavy cruisers on the ground, she had a reserve force that could be used in case the real attack came from another direction.

The trip to the Space Operations Center took less than five minutes. Granger was surprised that the aircar had a human pilot instead of a programmed autopilot. Personally, she would have preferred the latter, but the woman flying the craft seemed to be competent and knew enough to let her passenger think in peace. It was raining by the time the craft glided to a stop under the overhanging projection that architects stilled called a coach gate. Granger was grateful that she was protected from the rain regardless of what the structure was called. A quick word of thanks to her driver before disembarking and entering the building. As she entered the room with the grandiose title of Space Operations Center, she tried to resist the impulse to feel depressed by the fact that the room was small and crammed with equipment that was ad hoc and not all that sophisticated. As the operations center of a Navy responsible for patrolling over a million cubic light-years of space, the only word that seemed appropriate that came to mind was pathetic. But it was all that could be set up in the last few months.

“Status report,” she said.

“No change. TacNet has designated the bogeys as Tango1. Their position and vector are unchanged. They’ll cross the zone boundary in sixty-one minutes, Admiral,” said the Duty Officer whose name Granger couldn’t recall offhand.

“Show me where our forces are relative to Tango1,” ordered Granger.

The tactical display on the large wall screen zoomed out to show Tango1, Earth, its moon, and two groups of ships represented by green chevrons. Granger crossed her arms in front of her chest while she considered the situation. Tango1 was 5.58 million miles ‘above’ the earth’s orbital position. That was 30 light seconds. Alpha squadron, consisting of Commodore Carter’s flagship, the battlecruiser Saguntum, plus the heavy cruisers Agincourt, Crecy, and Borodino, was orbiting the Earth at a distance roughly twice the distance between the Earth and the moon. Beta squadron consisting of the heavy cruisers Waterloo, Thermopylae, and Cannae were also out beyond the boundary of the no-jump zone at a distance of 5.75 million miles. But they were still on the ecliptic while Tango1 was above it. That meant that Tango1 and Beta squadron could both enter jumpspace at any time as long as they didn’t try to jump into the no-jump zone.

“Let’s see Earth’s shadow,” said Granger. A gradually shrinking cone of dark grey appeared to one side of the Earth. Beta squadron was already in that cone. That told Granger that its position was an estimate based on manual input from the Center’s tactical officers who knew that Beta had been ordered to take up that position. If Earth’s satellite tracking network couldn’t see any reflected sunlight from those ships, then neither could Tango1. It might be able to detect Alpha squadron from their sunlight reflections.

“I want to speak with Commodore Carter,” said Granger in a low voice.

“I anticipated that you would want to do that, and the channel is already established, Admiral,” said the Duty Officer. He gestured to the command console microphone.

“Commodore Carter?” said Granger. She knew that there’d be a four-second lag to account for the time it took her signal to travel to Saguntum and for Carter’s reply to get back to her.

“Yes, Admiral. What’s the plan?”

“That’s what I’m calling about. Why don’t we see at least twenty-two ships out there? That’s the number of battlecruisers the hijackers might have.”

The reply took longer than four seconds to come back. Carter didn’t have a quick answer either. “I see two possibilities, Admiral. Either they can’t find crews for all twenty-two battlecruisers, or this group of four is just bait to entice us to commit our entire active strength and thus leave Earth wide open.”

“Exactly, and I have to wonder why they’re making that second possibility so obvious. A larger force would be more convincing as the major force.”

“I agree. However, it’s not like we can just ignore this group altogether. They may be coming in very slowly, but they are heading this way and could accelerate at any time. I’m guessing that you’re considering using Matsu’s squadron to attack Tango1 from their rear?”

Granger chuckled. Carter’s tactical skill was at least as good, maybe even better than hers. “I am considering it but not alone. Here’s what I’m thinking. Alpha squadron takes remote control of the ten unmanned heavies and heads for Tango1. Beta squadron micro-jumps away in order to be in a position to micro-jump into missile range behind Tango1 in coordination with your missile attack. The remaining two crewed and five unmanned heavies on the ground here become my tactical reserve in case Tango1 really is just bait. Between your fourteen ships and Matsu’s three, you should be able to defeat four battlecruisers with moderate losses to the combined force. Your thoughts.”

“A reserve of seven heavy cruisers won’t be much use against sixteen battlecruisers if that’s what the enemy is waiting to spring on us, Admiral. That’s my only concern. I’m willing to take a smaller force against Tango1 in order to strengthen the reserve force.

Granger nodded. “Well, if there are sixteen battlecruisers waiting to jump us, then we’re screwed no matter what we do, but I find it hard to believe that the rebels were able to find crews for all twenty-two battlecruisers. That being the case, then the force that represents the other shoe, so to speak, might be six or eight instead of sixteen, and a larger reserve force would be needed. What about taking control of five heavies, one for each of your heavies and two for Saguntum? That would leave me with twelve heavy cruisers for the reserve.”

“My combined force would be twelve on four; nine from the front and three from the enemy’s rear. Yes, I think that should work, Admiral.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. You have tactical authority over five unmanned heavy cruisers as of right now. We’ll get the remote control links set up asap. I’ll leave it to your discretion as to when you deploy the unmanned ships as well as when to give Captain Matsu the word. This is now your battle, Commodore. I’ll retain tactical control of the reserve force, but I’ll keep you advised of what I do with them. Any questions?”

“No, Sir.”

“In that case, good luck and good hunting. Granger clear.”

It was ten minutes later when Saguntum’s Tactical Officer, Lt. Howard Mansen, gave Carter the news he’d been waiting for.

“We now have helm and tactical links to five heavy cruisers, Commodore.”

“Download the flight plan and execute, Lieutenant. Adjust the squadron’s vector for the rendezvous, Helm.” When both officers acknowledged their orders, Carter sat back and tried to relax. The rendezvous would take almost an hour, and then the lunge at Tango1 would take more hours. He already knew when he wanted Eriko’s squadron to jump into missile range, and that was also hours away. Saguntum’s maximum acceleration was only 20Gs compared to the 25Gs that the heavy cruisers could manage. Even that seemed slow versus the 35Gs that a standard light cruiser could produce. Given that Alpha squadron had both classes of ships, it would be limited to 20Gs, and that meant that it would take 112 minutes to cover half the distance to Tango1 and another 101 minutes to decelerate to within missile range for a total of almost four hours. The wait would seem like an eternity. If it was a few more hours, he could have tried to get some sleep. It was, therefore, the worst timing from both perspectives. No sense in the crew being on alert for that long with nothing happening.

“The squadron can stand down to Condition Two for now,” ordered Carter.

Captain Matsu read the long text message from the Commodore and nodded. Jumping behind the enemy force at the right time was exactly the kind of tactic that her squadron had been positioned out here for. What the message didn’t contain was any hint of when she’d received the execute order. And since it could come at literally any time, she had to keep her squadron on alert.

Granger was chatting with the new Duty Officer that had just come on shift while drinking her third cup of coffee when the tactical display pinged for attention. Six yellow dots appeared at the very edge of the shadow cone 5.95 million miles from Earth. As she watched, the dots changed color from yellow to red, indicating that the tactical computer system had declared them to be hostile.

“Second group is designated Tango2, Admiral,” said the Center’s TO. “They’re coming in fast. Velocity in excess of nineteen hundred mps.”

Granger stifled the curse she was about to let go. Seeing an admiral losing her cool was not good for morale. The rebels had timed this dropping of the other shoe perfectly. Carter’s Alpha force was now too far on its vector to engage Tango1 to avoid combat now, even if it went to full deceleration. Matsu’s squadron could micro-jump in front of Tango2 and launch missiles at it, but the relative velocities would put her three ships at a tactical disadvantage, and that didn’t even take into consideration that she’d be outnumbered two to one and outgunned by a worse ratio than that. And if Granger let her take on Tango2, Carter would be taking on Tango1 with nine heavy cruisers instead of twelve versus four battlecruisers. Still favorable odds but not as favorable. On the plus side, if there was such a thing in this situation, Tango1 was now committed as well. It had crossed the zone boundary an hour ago. If it tried to reverse course and run for the zone boundary, Alpha squadron could still get within missile range before it did so by continuing to accelerate. Tango2, on the other hand, could still jump away but not for much longer, and that meant that Granger had to decide what orders to give Matsu and damn quick.

“Is Captain Matsu getting this tactical update?” demanded Granger.

“Yes, Admiral,” said the Duty Officer.

“Order Beta squadron to micro-jump into attack range of Tango2 asap and engage it. Advise Commodore Carter that Beta squadron is temporarily being redeployed to intercept Tango2.”

After making sure those orders were being carried out, the Duty Officer stepped over to where Granger was standing. “Admiral, Tango2 is right on the edge of the umbra. Did they just get sloppy in their jump into the inner system, or do they want us to see them?”

Granger took another look at the display and frowned. The DO was right. She hadn’t noticed how close Tango2 was to being inside the Earth’s shadow cone where they would not have been detected. The width of the cone at that distance was large enough that ships micro-jumping from further out should have been able to emerge back into normal space within it if their astrogational data was up to date. The hijacked battlecruisers had data current enough to provide that kind of accuracy. And enough time had now gone by for those six battlecruisers to realize they weren’t in the umbra and maneuver back into, but they hadn’t.

“They want us to see them, and their velocity is fast enough that we’d have to make a quick decision to make a countermove.” And she’d made a countermove that now looked more and more like a mistake. “Flash message to Captain Matsu. Cancel attack on Tango2! Hold position! Then get the Reserve squadron into space asap! Tell Captain Wojac that his AO will get their interception vector by the time his ships leave the atmosphere.” Granger stepped over to the Tactical Officer to confer about what that interception vector should be, hoping as she did so that Matsu would get the cancel order in time.

Matsu had just finished telling her AO what kind of micro-jump she wanted and was waiting for the nervous-looking Astrogation Officer to finish sending the jump coordinates to the other two ships when she heard her Com Officer’s excited voice.

“Captain! New HQ message! Cancel attack on Tango2! Hold position!”

“Hold the jump!” said Matsu as she quickly stepped over to the astrogation station.

“Holding jump!” said the AO.

Matsu looked at the tactical display and unconsciously held her breath. The window of opportunity to jump in front of Tango2 was disappearing fast. By the time she had to breathe again, the window was gone.

“Advise HQ that Beta squadron is no longer able to intercept Tango2 and is holding position.”

Carter stared at the latest text message from Granger. What the hell is going on back there? He wondered. First, they take Beta away from me, and then they give it back. Did Granger fuck up the interception of Tango2, or is Tango2 the bait and not Tango1? I need Matsu’s squadron, dammit! She has to have time to get into position to build up velocity so that she can overtake Tango1 after the final micro-jump. He turned to his Com Officer.

“Send the execute signal to Captain Matsu.”

“Admiral. Commodore Carter has advised us that he’s sent the execute signal to Captain Matsu,” said the Com Officer.

Granger nodded her acknowledgment. The Reserve force, now re-designated Gamma squadron, had received its interception vector and was accelerating at 25Gs for the interception point. All her forces were committed now, and there was nothing more for her to do except watch the two battles unfold. The tactical displayed pinged to notify another status change. Tango2 had just changed its vector and had entered the shadow cone. Its position on the display was now an estimated one.

“Beta squadron has jumped away, Admiral.” said the Duty Officer. Granger was annoyed that the DO was telling her something that she was already seeing with her own eyes.

“Yes, Lieutenant. I see it.” The DO flinched at her tone. Just as Granger was in the process of turning away to get another cup of coffee, the display pinged again. Now what? Granger heard someone in the room groan. At first, she didn’t pick up on the change. Then she saw it. Tango1 was now accelerating away from Carter’s ships in what looked like a panicked attempt to cross the boundary and jump away before Alpha could get into missile range. Something about this move bothered her. The tactical computers on those battlecruisers were perfectly capable of calculating Alpha’s probable position by the time Tango1 reached the zone boundary based on when they detected the reflected sunlight from Alpha ships leaving Earth. Those calculations should show that Alpha squadron would be able to fire missiles at those four battlecruisers before they could jump away. Why were they only running for it now when they couldn’t avoid being fired on and not earlier when they could have?

She recalled a lesson from one of her Academy instructors. “When the enemy is doing something strange that you don’t understand, use game theory to figure out what the other tactical options are. Under what circumstances would the enemy have done what see him doing and what countermoves would he expect from you?”

If Tango1 had reversed course earlier when there was still a chance to avoid battle altogether, what would Commodore Carter have done in response? Realizing that forcing a battle against a numerically inferior opponent was now impossible, Carter would have called off the attack and tried to get his ships back to Earth as quickly as possible. That suggested that a rational reason for waiting this long to run for the boundary was that the enemy commander didn’t want Alpha squadron to give up the chase. Under what circumstances would it be rational to let a numerically superior force get within missile range? The only answer that made any sense at all was if Tango1 had more than four battlecruisers. If it was the superior force, then it would want a battle, and by reversing course, the entire engagement was now a stern chase, and stern chases were always more advantageous to the side being chased than to the side doing the chasing.

“Message for Commodore Carter. Tango1’s course reversal suggests that there are more than four battlecruisers. Recommend that you allow Tango1 to cross the zone boundary before firing missiles. If the enemy has the superior force, it will not jump away. This is not an order, Commodore. If we can scare Tango1 away without battle, that’s an acceptable outcome. Message ends.”

Carter read the message and shook his head. I can’t slow this squadron down now. Matsu has made her preparatory jump and is operating on a strict timetable. If this squadron isn’t in missile range by the time she springs her ambush, her ships will be in a bad situation, and if I transmit a coded message to her now, the enemy will wonder who’s on the other side of them that I’m trying to communicate with and we’ll lose the element of surprise. He looked at Mansen.

“Are we close enough to get a radar return signal, TO?”

“If their ships are armored, yes, but just barely, Sir.”

“And can we program one of the drone ships to activate its radar and pass the data back to us?”

Mansen thought for a moment. “That should be possible, but it’ll take a few minutes to set up the datalink, Sir.”

Carter nodded. “Fine. Get it set up and activate it as soon as it’s ready.”

“Yes, Sir.”

It took almost ten minutes before the link was ready.

“Cunaxa’s begun radar scanning, Sir,” said Mansen. “We should have return data any second now.”

The tactical display pinged before Carter could respond. He heard someone whisper the word, ‘Jesus’, and he understood why. He felt like saying it too.

Battlecruiser Lexington:

“They’ve seen us, Admiral,” said Tactical Officer Maggy Bardasano.

Bentrik sighed. Radar detection had been inevitable, but he had hoped for more time before the commander of those nine ships knew what he or she was up against.

“Since the element of surprise is now gone, we may as well begin active scanning too. I want continuous sweeps fore and aft, Lieutenant. Merlin’s predicting an ambush force will micro-jump in front of us when we reach the zone boundary.”

“Commencing active scanning fore and aft, Sir.” He waited for the results. “Forward scan is clear. Aft radar scan confirms visual detection of nine ships, Admiral.”

Bentrik acknowledged her report with a nod. Nine heavy cruisers firing six missiles each for a total of 54 missiles per volley versus his nine battlecruisers that could fire ten missiles each for a total of 90 per volley. In terms of missile strength, his nine battlecruisers had the same firepower as 15 heavy cruisers. There was no doubt in Bentrik’s mind that his fleet would be victorious. The only question was how costly the victory would be, especially if there were more ships waiting to micro-jump into missile range as soon as the fleet crossed the zone boundary. At least the six decoys deployed by the City of Dresden fooled their reserve force into going after them.

“Lieutenant, program the fire control systems of all ships as follows. The second the forward radar detects ships, the fleet will automatically fire a full volley allocated evenly between all targets. Fractions of a second might make the difference, so we can’t rely on the usual procedure of you reporting the contact to me, and then I order you to fire. Get that set up right now.”

“Yes, Sir. May I ask what happens if the ships pursuing us have fired at us when the ambush force jumps in, Admiral?”

“It’s my intention to wait until the last possible moment before rotating the ships back around so that our missile defense lasers can deal with any incoming missiles from that angle. I suspect my opposite number has arranged the micro-jump timing on the assumption that we would still be moving in the other direction at ten mps. The pursuing force can’t signal the ambush force without the signal passing us, so we’ll know if they try to adjust their ambush timing.”

Battlecruiser Saguntum:

Carter knew that if he was going to contact Matsu and modify her orders, he’d have to do it soon. With Tango1’s course reversal, Matsu’s three heavy cruisers would be going head to head with ten rebel battlecruisers. That wouldn’t be a battle. It would be suicide. But if Beta squadron could get one or two missile volleys off without being hit by enemy missiles, it could then jump away again. And if those missile attacks could be coordinated with Alpha’s missile volleys, the original intent of the basic plan, of overwhelming Tango1’s defenses, might still be achieved. He needed to confer with his AO, but that would take more time than he had now so, the first order of business was to get more time.

“Send a coded message to Captain Matsu to cancel the micro-jump and stand by for further orders.”

Battlecruiser Lexington:

“We’re picking up a coded transmission from the pursuing group, Admiral,” said the Com Officer.

“Can you tell where they’re sending it to?” asked Bentrik.

“It’s a narrow beam signal that being transmitted in our direction, but I don’t think they’re trying to contact us, Sir.”

“No, not us. It’s just as I thought. There’s another group of ships out beyond the zone boundary ready to jump into missile range. We’ve upset their carefully set plans by reversing course, and they’re trying to make adjustments. How much longer until we cross the zone boundary, AO?”

“Fifteen minutes and thirteen seconds, Admiral.”

“Tell City of Malverton to jump to the rendezvous point as soon as they cross the boundary. They’re to hold position with the rest of the landing force until we give them the all-clear.”

With that precaution taken care of, Bentrik turned his mind back to the tactical situation. The super-freighter had done its job of creating a cone of shadow for the other six battlecruisers to hide in to avoid detection by reflected sunlight. Now that all nine battlecruisers were out in the open, so to speak, the super-freighter’s presence was no longer required. He tried to put himself in the mind of the commander of the nine heavy cruisers. If I had another force beyond the zone boundary, what would I order them to do and when? I’d order them to jump within missile before the enemy fleet crosses the boundary so that they can’t jump away, but how do I arrange things so that the enemy force can’t take on one group at a time? Bentrik got Hansen’s attention and gestured for him to join Bentrik at the astrogation station. When all three were there, Bentrik pointed at the tactical display.

“The best thing my opposite number can do now is order the other group, that’s out beyond the zone boundary, to jump in close enough to fire one, maybe two missile volleys, then jump away again. Those volleys have to reach us before we cross the boundary so that we can’t jump away, and ideally, the timing of those volleys reaching us would be the same as when the missile volleys from the main force behind us reach us. I want you two to figure out when that point in time is likely to be. Once we know that, we’ll figure out when to fire a blind volley ahead of us to try to catch the other force by surprise when it jumps in. If we can hit them before they fire their missiles, we can then rotate our hulls to face the main force with maximum missile and point defense capacity. The blind volley will be staggered with a few seconds between each ship volley. Those missiles will be programmed for autonomous tracking so that they can find and perform terminal maneuvers when the enemy force jumps in front of them. I realize we have to guess when that will be, but it’s worth a try. When you have the optimum missile convergence point from the enemy’s point of view, I’ll want to see it on the tactical display. You’re going to have to hurry.”

Battlecruiser Saguntum:

Carter listened to the TO countdown.

“Firing missiles in five…four…three…two…one…NOW!” Fifty-eight anti-ship missiles launched and began accelerating at 144Gs. He checked the sidebar data. Flight time of six minutes and ten seconds. Alpha was firing at extreme range. The missiles barely had enough power to reach the point where Tango1 would be in six minutes ten seconds. The new orders he had sent to Matsu told her to micro-jump twenty seconds from now and fire their first volley as soon as possible.

Heavy cruiser Waterloo:

Matsu held her breath as the jump countdown reached zero. The micro-jump was as close to instantaneous as it was possible to get and just as she was about to order the squadron to fire the first volley, she heard her tactical officer’s panicked shout.

“INCOMING! Multiple missiles incoming! Point defenses are firing!”

Matsu was stunned by the news. How had the enemy known when her ships would jump in and where they would arrive? The answer eluded her, and she set that problem aside. Her squadron was going to be hammered hard, which meant she had to get at least one missile volley off RIGHT NOW!

“Open fire, Lieutenant!”

But she was too late. She had just enough time to realize that firing the missile volley should have been set up to take place automatically half a second after emerging back into normal space before the enemy missiles hit. Waterloo was hit by three missiles simultaneously. The combined concussion of three fission warheads fractured the collapsium armor with enough energy penetrating into the ship’s interior to vaporize the front third of the ship. The Bridge was deep in the center, but that didn’t save Matsu or her people. The resulting jerk was so violent that it snapped spinal cords in necks and caused massive internal bleeding in brains, eyes, and other organs.

Battlecruiser Lexington:

“Multiple hits on all three targets! Clear signs of massive damage! No return fire, and they’ve stopped scanning, Admiral!”

Bentrik nodded as he concentrated on what was happening in the other direction. The enemy’s larger-than-expected first missile volley had necessitated a re-thinking of his targeting strategy. Somehow, the Feds had managed to salvage a battlecruiser from the water planet. That was the only explanation that made any sense. That being the case, it also made sense that their battlecruiser would be the flagship of their formation. That conclusion had caused him to adjust the original targeting plan from only targeting three ships with each anti-ship missile volley to concentrating the first volley exclusively on the enemy battlecruiser. It might be overkill, but he wanted to be sure that ship was crippled and neutralized. The second missile volley would consist of anti-missile missiles. Now that the ambush force had been taken care of, his super-freighter could shift position behind the Lexington, but one volley of AMMs would further reduce the chances of an enemy missile locking on to the City of Malverton instead of targeting Lexington. Not that he was all that worried about Lexington being hit. His Fleet had shifted into battle formation, with the other eight battlecruisers forming a circle around the flagship and freighter. Enemy missiles would have to run the gauntlet of both AMMs and laser point defenses of the battlecruiser ring in order to reach Lexington.

“AMM volley has fired.” The TO’s voice had calmed down considerably. “Switching to ASMs and original targeting package.”

“Fire when ready,” said Bentrik. By alternating between offensive and defensive missile fire, the rebel fleet could maximize the advantage of being the lead formation in a stern chase. The Federation force would run into rebel missile volleys while their missile volleys would have to play catchup with the rebel ships. By stretching out the interval between the arrival time of each enemy missile volley, it was possible to squeeze one volley of AMMs between two volleys of anti-ship missiles.

“ASM volley will fire in five…four…three…two…one…now! Reloading with AMMs has commenced. Interception of first enemy volley in twenty-five seconds. The enemy’s fourth missile volley hasn’t fired yet, Admiral. They’re holding back; probably switched to missile defense and are waiting for the optimal moment to fire their AMMs.”

Bentrik was only listening now with half his attention. He wanted to see how many of the Fed’s first missile volley survived contact with his first anti-missile volley. The answer came quickly.

“Forty-three kills!” yelled the TO. “Fifteen still incoming! Lasers are tracking. Tactical predicts one hundred percent successful interception, Admiral.”

“Very good, TO. Target the enemy’s second missile volley and fire the AMMs. Do NOT switch to ASMs yet. Reload with AMMs and target their third volley, then switch to ASMs against three more ships,” said Bentrik. The tactical officer repeated the order before switching his focus back to the 15 remaining missiles from the first wave.

“Lasers are firing! Sixty-two…eighty-nine…one hundred percent interception with eleven seconds to impact to spare!” Bentrik allowed himself the luxury of a grin as the rest of the Flag Bridge crew cheered. He wondered what was going through the enemy commander’s mind now.

Battlecruiser Saguntum:

We are so screwed. The thought was so unnerving that Carter’s stomach threatened to heave. The light from the exploding warheads behind Tango1 left no doubt that Beta squadron had been badly mauled and was almost certainly out of action completely. His own first missile volley had been stopped cold, given the complete lack of any warhead detonation. And Tango1’s first missile wave was not only bearing down on Alpha squadron in general, but it was also clearly aimed at Saguntum in particular. The ship’s tactical system was ordering the heavy cruisers to shift position to give the flagship the best possible anti-missile defense screen, and all missile tubes were loaded with AMMs. But the numbers were not good. It normally took two AMMs to take out one ASM since each AMM only had a 68% chance of a successful interception. Alpha squadron had 58 missile tubes which meant that the best they could hope for was to stop 29 enemy missiles. There would be time to fire a second AMM volley at the first enemy wave that might stop another 29, which left at least 32 missiles for the laser point defense systems. And they, on average, needed four shots to kill one missile. His squadron had 36 laser turrets with enough time for two shots each. That meant that five or six missiles would get likely get through and hit the flagship. Carter had already made arrangements for Agincourt’s Hubner to take command of the squadron if…when Saguntum was destroyed. What made the agony worse was the knowledge that the entire squadron was going to be either destroyed or crippled since it had too much velocity to disengage now, and each ship destroyed would further weaken AMM and laser defense proportionately. And with both Alpha and Beta squadrons gone, Gamma squadron would have no chance at all of stopping Tango1. He had just enough time to give one more order.

“All ships to continue reloading AMMs!” No sooner had he finished giving that command than his TO began reporting the results of the enemy missile penetration of defenses. Carter wondered if the young officer had even heard his last order.

“First interception took out twenty-eight! Second interception in three…two…one…now! Another thirty! Thirty-two missiles still incoming! Lasers are firing now! Forty-eight percent! Ninety-three percent! HOLD O—”

Six missiles hit the Saguntum and vaporized half the ship. The other half coasted on as its glowing hulk slowly began to tumble.

Battlecruiser Lexington:

When Bentrik saw the red icon representing the Fed battlecruiser on the tactical display change to purple and begin to flash, he knew it had been destroyed. Two Federation anti-ship missile volleys had now been stopped dead in their tracks with one more 58 missile volley to go. It would be interesting to see how quickly the new Fed commander could take control and begin issuing orders. Bentrik wondered if it was premature to classify Fed Navy officer competency as being below average. From the historical accounts of space battles during the first war that Merlin’s database contained, it seemed to Bentrik that Federation fleet and squadron commanders had been more capable then than what he’d seen so far today.

“They’ve fired their AMMs, Admiral,” said the TO. Bentrik was about to respond when the officer continued. “Admiral? Tactical is noticing something unusual. Two enemy cruisers didn’t fire any missiles and are drifting in formation relative to the other ships.”

“That is unusual. Any ideas why, Lieutenant?”

“Well…ah, the system has just noticed something else, now that it’s taking a long, hard look at the enemy formation. Ships flying in a formation under independent control tend to show some slight variability in the distances between ships as helm officers make manual adjustments. But three of the cruisers are holding a precise position relative to three other cruisers. Admiral, I think I know what’s going. Not all of those ships are crewed. Some of them are tied into the helm and probably tactical controls of another ship that is crewed. The two ships that didn’t fire just now were almost certainly controlled by the battlecruiser we just destroyed. If we can figure out which three are controlling the other three and knock them out, the remaining five should become coasting derelicts.”

Bentrik thought fast. “Is there any way to determine which ships are crewed from radar data of their formation?”

“No, Sir. But after our second volley hits, it may be possible to narrow down the possibilities depending on how many control ships were neutralized.”

“Good work, Lieutenant. Keep at it.”

“Yes, Sir. Our second volley is about to run into their AMM defenses. Should I hold our third ASM volley until we see the results of the second, Sir?”

“Affirmative,” said Bentrik. He watched the tactical display as two red chevrons changed to flashing purple, and a third chevron disappeared altogether as the ship it represented was either completely vaporized or was blown apart. A glance at the sidebar data showed the third, and so far last, enemy missile volley was about to run his fleet’s defensive gauntlet. Thirty seconds later, all 58 missiles had been successfully intercepted. The space between the two formations was now empty. Bentrik looked at his TO, who sensed his admiral was looking at him.

“Tactical’s evaluating the enemy formation, Admiral. It appears…that our last volley took out one control ship. There is now only one pair of ships that are holding a precise formation, along with one ship that appears to be under independent control because it’s attempting to hold formation. Sir, we should assume that the helm and tactical officers of the remaining crewed ships are trying to take back control of the orphaned cruisers. I recommend our next ASM volley be allocated to the remaining three ships that still appear to be under direct or indirect control.”

“Yes, do that and fire when ready,” ordered Bentrik.

“Targets have been allocated, and all ninety have fired, Sir. Still no missile fire of any kind from the enemy formation.”

Bentrik nodded. It all made sense now. Those two crews were desperately trying to assume control of the two orphans that the battlecruiser had managed in order to have the maximum possible AMM volley to defend against his third wave that was now on its way. Even if they managed to bring those two drone cruisers under control, it still wouldn’t save them. He wondered if their commander would offer to surrender. His conditions for accepting their surrender would be to abandon their ships which he would then order destroyed. Those Fed ships had too much momentum to even consider trying to bring his ships in to rendezvous and board them, not to mention the time it would take that could allow whatever remaining ships the Fed Navy had to re-deploy. And capturing a few more heavy cruisers that he wouldn’t have crews for was literally the last thing on his mind.

“Admiral! It appears that they’ve acquired control of at least one of the two orphans. Two heavy cruisers are moving in front of the other two as decoys! They’re sacrificing them to soak up our missile volley!”

Bentrik watched in fascination as 90 warheads struck two armored ships. The red chevrons on the display disappeared so suddenly that the ships had to have been completely vaporized. Along with whatever missile warheads had arrived fractions of a second too late to hit solid metal. Three cruisers left now, and one is the remaining orphan. It’s time to end this battle.

“Com, send a message in the clear to the commander of the Fed ships telling him that I’ll wait five minutes to give his crews a chance to abandon ship, and then I’ll destroy all three ships.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Granger shut out the sounds of despair coming from the people manning the Operations Center consoles. The last message from Alpha’s remaining senior officer telling her that he was ordering his two crews to abandon ship had finally brought home to her that the battle for Earth was lost, and so was the war to preserve the Federation. Gamma squadron had just determined that the six ships sighted by reflected sunlight were really some kind of decoy, and even if the two crewed ships could bring their remotely controlled drone ships back into action before Tango1 reached Earth, they would be destroyed just as easily as Alpha and Beta had been. She turned and walked calmly to the master console, where a direct connection to President DeChastelaine was available.

“I want to speak with the President,” she said in a deceptively unemotional voice. The call was answered surprisingly fast.

“What’s the situation, Admiral?” Granger took note that DeChastelaine’s voice showed no emotion at all.

“There are nine undamaged rebel battlecruisers that have defeated all but two of our crewed heavy cruisers, and nothing stands in their way if they want to enter Earth orbit. My remaining two crewed cruisers can’t get back here in time to offer any resistance, which, given the disparity in force structure, would, in my opinion, be pointless and tantamount to suicide. We’ve lost a lot of good people so far, and I do not want to lose more. I regret that there does not seem to be any way to avoid having the rebel fleet dictate terms from orbit, Madam President. Under the circumstances, I feel compelled to offer my resignation effective immediately.”

A hush had fallen over the room as the console operators heard the Admiral’s words. The was a long pause before the President responded.

“It sounds to me as though we were outmatched regardless of who was in charge. The best thing you can do for the Federation now is to withdraw your resignation and carry on as best you can. If and when I lose faith in your command judgment, Admiral, you’ll be the first to know. Now, with regard to the situation you’ve just described, can our ground forces do anything to mitigate a complete rebel victory?”

“That depends on how ruthless the Rebel Commander is, Madam President. If we refuse to surrender, he or she might order orbital bombardment with nuclear missiles. There is a possibility that they may not have to resort to that extreme. We did detect at least one ship that does not appear to be a warship and is most likely a large freighter that could be carrying ground troops. If that’s the case, I would be surprised if the rebels failed to bring enough troops to overwhelm the forces that General Santander has available. They wouldn’t even need numerical superiority with precision ground strikes from orbit to back them up.”

“I see. How long before the enemy ships arrive in orbit, Admiral?”

“At the moment, that’s hard to say, Madam President, since the enemy fleet is still moving away from us as a result of the space battle. However, if they were to begin accelerating in our direction now, it would be several hours yet before they could drop into orbit.”

“Well then, carry on and notify me if there are any new developments, Admiral. I need to speak with General Santander now.” The click told Granger that the President had hung up.

Granger put the handset down and looked at the tactical display. Gamma squadron was decelerating as fast as possible to reverse course back to Earth. Multiple transponder IDs were signaling the location of life pods carrying the crews from the abandoned cruisers. Their internal power units would not last long enough for the pods to make it back to Earth on their own.

“Advise Gamma squadron to commence search and rescue operations of our people in those pods and make sure that same signal reaches Tango1 so that they know what we’re trying to do.”

With that order acknowledged and with nothing more that could be done, Granger turned acting command temporarily over to the shocked senior lieutenant who would normally be the Duty Officer and went to the washroom to throw up.

Battlecruiser Lexington:

It was 21 hours later when Bentrik re-entered the Flag Bridge as the expanded Fleet entered a high orbit around Earth. Preliminary negotiations with the Federation President had established a conditional ceasefire whereby the remaining seven heavy cruisers, which Bentrik suspected were not all crewed ships, were allowed to pick up the life pods and then hold position far enough away from Earth that they would not be a military factor. While the rescue was taking place, the battlecruisers and City of Malverton rendezvoused with the other five super-freighters that had been waiting far enough out beyond the no-jump zone that their reflected sunlight would not be detected. With over 200 contra-gravity tanks and APCs along with 5,000 ground troops, Bentrik was certain that he could make the Federation Grand Council and Assembly see the futility of further resistance. Five thousand troops would not be enough to conquer the entire planet, but that wasn’t necessary. Conquering and holding Earth had never been the goal. Convincing the political power structure of the Federation to throw in the towel was the goal and could be achieved even if it meant doing so at the point of a gun. Linking up with the troopships would have taken hours no matter what, which is why Bentrik had elected to take a few more hours to give himself and his crews a good rest.

“I’m ready to talk with the senior Fed officials now,” said Bentrik as he settled down in the Flag Officer’s chair. It didn’t take long for the main display to show four faces, one of which wore a Navy uniform, another wore an Army uniform. Bentrik recognized the two civilians as President DeChastelaine and Assembly Speaker Laurentian. Bentrik made sure to take control of the discussion by speaking first.

“I’m Admiral Aren Bentrik. I’m not only commander of this rebel fleet, I’m also a member of the Committee of Directors of the political wing and therefore have been granted authority to negotiate political terms on behalf of the Committee. I’d like the two military officers to introduce themselves before we go any further. I already know the President and Speaker.”

It was DeChastelaine who responded. “This is Admiral Cornelia Granger and General Glenn Santander, the senior Navy and Army officers, respectively.” Bentrik jumped in before the President could say anything more.

“Admiral Granger, you’ve lost a lot of people in the last twenty-four hours, and I regret having had to do that. I have no desire to spill more blood than is absolutely necessary to achieve our political goals.”

“Thank you for letting my people be picked up before their life support gave out, Admiral Bentrik. Please forgive me if I don’t congratulate you on your tactical victory. It might be the polite thing to do, but I’m not in the mood to be polite at the moment.”

“Quite understandable, Admiral. But enough small talk. Let’s get down to business. What the Committee wants is for the Assembly to pass a motion dissolving the Federation and for the Grand Council to ratify that motion and for you, President DeChastelaine, to sign it into effect. There are sufficient planetary delegates to the Assembly from planets that were part of the System States Alliance or were sympathetic to that cause that finding someone to make that motion should not be a problem. If the motion is defeated, then I will land my ground troops around the Assembly building, and if necessary, every single Delegate will have a gun pointed at their head when they vote again. I suspect, however, that the threat of force will not be necessary. But if it is, then I would caution you, General Santander, not to try to intervene because if you do, I will order orbital ground strikes on your troops before my troops land.”

Santander said nothing but his expression suggested that he was holding back a response that Bentrik guessed was in deference to letting the President and the Speaker do the talking. To Bentrik’s surprise, it was Speaker Laurentian who responded, not DeChastelaine.

“The Assembly is not currently in session. It will take a few hours to get a quorum together. The motion that you’re demanding falls under the heading of a Constitutional Amendment that Assembly rules require a full week of debate before a vote can be called. These things can’t be rush—”

“Not acceptable, Speaker Laurentian. When a quorum is present, you’ll have your staff notify me, and I will speak to the Assembly by video. We’re not talking about a minor measure in an ongoing political procedure. We’re talking about one last, final vote to dissolve the whole damn thing, and if the motion passes, no one will care if the rules got bent.”

Laurentian seemed at a loss for words which the President took advantage of. “You’re ignoring the practical realities of the situation, Admiral Bentrik. Suppose the Assembly votes to dissolve the Federation and the Grand Council ratifies it, and I sign it into law. Once that is done, are you going to try to occupy Earth with rebel troops? I doubt if your ships are carrying anywhere near enough to accomplish that. And if you don’t have enough troops, how will you prevent us from re-constituting the Federation after your ships and troops leave this system?”

Bentrik smiled as he shook his head. “No permanent occupation. Not only do I not have enough troops, but it’s also not necessary. My mission is to eliminate the Federation’s ability to flex its military might to prevent planets from declaring their independence. I think I’ve now done that. If you’re counting on the light cruisers that are currently on patrol from various bases, you can forget about them. My forces have taken control of all the major bases and are securing each light cruiser as it comes in to land. The few warships you still have here in this system are all that remains of the Federation Navy. The Federation has effectively been defeated militarily. The motion of dissolution that I’m demanding is merely a formal recognition of that fact. There are hundreds of planets that would jump at the chance for independence if they thought the Federation was incapable of stopping them. After the motion is passed and signed into effect, I would expect that most of the Delegates will scramble to return to their planets to spread the news. If they’re not here, how will you get a quorum, and is that even possible if the Assembly itself no longer has any legal authority to even sit in session? And one more thing. Suppose somehow you get enough Delegates to achieve a quorum. As soon as someone proposes a motion to re-constitute the Federation, there’ll be a flood of proposed amendments addressing the multitude of grievances that many planets have, which you people have gone out of your way to ignore. And finally, if you somehow created a legal framework for something to replace the Federation, the military situation won’t have changed. Any attempt to impose Terra’s will on other planets will result in a return visit by this fleet. We can get back here very quickly. I suspect that you already know about our improved jump drive technology. The days when it took months for news to reach other systems are over. Instead of months, it’ll be days. Can you rebuild your Navy fast enough to overcome that new communication lag? I think not.”

“Instead of trying to resurrect the defunct Federation, you politicians should be thinking about how to deal with the inevitable chaos and economic upheaval that this defeat is going to generate. All those huge companies that owe their corporate charters to the legal structure that the Federation supported are going to find that planets are going to confiscate their planetary assets. That’s going to cause your stock markets on Earth to crash with lots of financial collateral damage. I’d imagine that those companies had a lot of influence on both of you. Influence that you might have resented. Well, now you can tell those companies to fuck off. This shift in economic power from Terra to the other planets will eventually benefit this planet in the long run too. In the short run, it’ll be rough for the people on Earth, but it’ll be better for just about everyone else. The Merlin computer that the Army left behind on Poictesme, which has been moved somewhere else, by the way, has predicted that the military defeat of the Federation, followed by the formation of a loose confederation structure similar to what the SSA was, will avoid the long term decline of civilization into a galactic Dark Ages that would otherwise have taken place. If you don’t believe it, ask your Merlin clone after it’s rebuilt. Project the future as if this rebellion hadn’t taken place, then ask it what would have to happen to avoid the decline. It’s too bad that General Foxx Travis isn’t still alive. He could have confirmed the long-term collapse scenario. He killed himself when he learned that fighting for the Federation would not save civilization but might actually destroy it. As for the few heavy cruisers you still have in this system, you might want to keep them here. There are a lot of people who carry grudges against Federation politicians, and it won’t be long before their planets have warships too.” He paused before continuing.

“Enough talk about the future or what might happen. All I want to know now from you, Speaker Laurentian, is whether you’ll call the Assembly to order and arrange for me to speak to the Delegates. Yes or no.”

After about five seconds, Laurentian said, “Yes.”

“Good. As far as your warships are concerned, Admiral Granger, if they stay where they are and don’t try to interfere, I’ll leave them alone. Are your troops going to be a problem for me, General Santander?”

The General took a deep breath before responding. “That decision will be up to President DeChastelaine, Admiral.”

“Well, Mister President?” asked Bentrik.

To Bentrik’s surprise, DeChastelaine didn’t hesitate at all. “General Santander’s troops will not be a problem, Admiral Bentrik. If the Assembly is willing to throw eight hundred years of peace out the window, there’s not much I can do to stop them.”

“Then we’re agreed that the status quo will continue for now pending the Assembly’s decision. I will want to watch the vote after I speak to the Delegates. Call me back when everything’s ready.”

The call that the Assembly had a quorum and the video link was ready came 13 hours later. As Bentrik returned to the Flag Bridge and settled down in the command chair, Captain Foley’s face appeared on one of the small screens in front of Bentrik.

“Yes, Gail, what is it?”

“I just thought you’d like to know what my com. people have been seeing from civilian radio and video transmissions. Word of the vote has leaked out, and the Assembly building is surrounded by a very large crowd that’s behaving peacefully so far. But the financial markets are already crashing, especially the shares of the companies with off-planet charters. The general tone of the talking heads from the news organizations is mainly indignation at us rebels. How dare we pull the rug out from under the Federation while they at the same time express outrage at the politicians and military people for letting this happen.”

“Interesting. Thank you for that information, Gail.”

“They’re ready for you now, Admiral,” said the com. technician.

A light on the console in front of him lit up to notify him that his image and voice were now being broadcast to the planet below. At the same time, one of the smaller screens was now showing the Assembly hall that was packed with Delegates.

“My name is Admiral Aren Bentrik. I represent and have the authority to speak for the Committee For A New Coalition of Independent Planets. I command a fleet of battlecruisers and troop carriers that’s orbiting Earth. The current military situation is this. The majority of Federation Navy warships stationed on Earth have been destroyed in a space battle. My fleet has not suffered any damage or casualties. A temporary ceasefire has been agreed to whereby the few remaining Federation warships are holding position some twenty-one light seconds from Earth. The ability of the Federation Navy to successfully dispute my fleet’s control of this star system is now nonexistent. I will therefore now explain what the Committee wants.”

“In order for planets including my home planet of Marduk, to be able to negotiate the formation of a new multi-planetary organization without having to worry about military action from Terra, the Committee has decided that the Federation must be dissolved, disbanded, whatever word you want to use as long as it ceases to exist. Merely defeating the Federation Navy is not sufficient by itself. Were my fleet to leave this system now, your President and her military advisors would attempt to renew hostilities as soon as they’ve rebuilt the Navy. That will not be allowed to happen. Therefore, the Assembly must pass a motion today that ends the legal existence of the Federation. After passing the motion, the Grand Council must ratify it today, no delay will be tolerated, and President DeChastelaine must sign the proclamation into effect today. I’ve already spoken with Delegates from several planets that were part of the System States Alliance and have been told that a motion to that effect will be proposed and seconded along with a request for an immediate vote. There will be no debate. If the motion is defeated, I will order my troops to land near, surround, and then enter the Assembly building. There will be a second vote, and my troops will be lining the walls to see who votes against the motion. I’ll leave it to your imagination as to what will happen to those Delegates who vote no. Let me be crystal clear. I’m not asking for a yes vote. I’m demanding it, and my fleet will not leave this system until I get it. What Earth does after the Federation is dissolved is up to its citizens. Once the new planetary coalition has been constituted and organized, Earth will be welcome to join as an equal member planet. What it will not be allowed to do is dominate policy for the benefit of chartered companies based on Earth. Those companies will only be allowed to operate on other planets if they respect the sovereignty and laws of those planets. Recognizing that the old power structure is dead will be difficult for some of you. If you can put aside your anger over what you’ve lost and focus instead on what you might gain by looking to the future, then this political evolution of human civilization will be much less painful. This video channel will continue to broadcast what transpires in the Assembly Chamber so that I can monitor your progress or lack thereof. It’s now time for you to act.” The com. technician signaled that the channel was now one way and that all transmissions from the flagship had ceased. Bentrik watched a particular section of the chamber.

“The Speaker recognizes the Delegate from Ashmodai,” boomed the announcement that silenced the chatter that was rapidly growing in volume.

Yvonne Maddock stood up and looked around as she took a deep breath. “Thank you, Mister Speaker. I will keep my remarks brief. Ashmodai was a member of the System States Alliance and paid dearly for daring to join that glorious experiment. On behalf of those that died in the city of Kindelburg, which was bombed by Federation Navy warships and all others who died in that war, I propose the following motion. That as of this date, the Articles of Federation be declared null and void. That upon this motion being signed into effect, this Assembly and the Grand Council and the position of President of the Federation will cease to have legal status and authority, and that the Federation Navy and Army will be disbanded. I now ask the Speaker to recognize the Delegate from Abigor.”

“The Speaker recognizes the Delegate from Abigor.” The recognition was made so quickly that no one had time to react verbally or by signally a request to be recognized. Bentrik watched as the Abigor Delegate stood up. He had forgotten the man’s name.

“Thank you, Mister Speaker. On behalf of the people of Abigor, I second the motion put forward by the Delegate from Ashmodai and call for an immediate vote.”

Bentrik heard the tsunami of voices that took advantage of the momentary lull as Speaker Laurentian paused for a few seconds. He looked directly at the camera that he knew was broadcasting the proceedings to the rebel fleet, then returned his gaze to the Assembly.

“A vote has been called. All Delegates will now vote electronically for or against the motion.” This time the background chatter did not die completely as some Delegates continued to voice their reactions. Bentrik heard a few no’s as well as some yes’s. The main electronic display behind the Speaker’s podium came to life with the vote tallies even as some Delegates were taking their time voting.

With some votes still not cast, the Assembly Chamber exploded in a roar of approval as the yes vote reached then exceeded the minimum number representing a majority of the Delegates. When everyone had voted, 61.8% of the Delegates had voted yes.

Laurentian banged his gavel until the roar had subsided. “The motion has been carried.” Bentrik noticed the emotion that the Speaker’s voice now contained. “The Grand Council is now in emergency session to consider ratification of this motion. Under the authority granted to me as Speaker, I hereby adjourn this ad hoc session of the Assembly.” He banged his gavel three more times then stepped down from the podium. Everyone now seemed to be shouting, and many Delegates were moving around. Bentrik turned to look at his com. technician and made a slashing motion across his throat to signal the video channel to be cut.

Captain Foley came up to stand beside Bentrik’s command station. “You did it, Admiral. Congratulations.”

“It’s not official yet, Gail.”

“No, but the GC won’t overturn the vote, not with that big of a majority vote. If they did, the Delegates would lynch them. That just leaves the President. By signing the motion into law, she’d be putting herself out of a job, but the Office also automatically makes her the Chief Executive of Earth’s power structure too. She’d still retain her cushy salary and impressive office.”

“And if she’s able to think rationally, that will be enough, but if she’s thinking emotionally, if her ego won’t give in, she might do the stupid thing and veto the motion,” said Bentrik.

“What will you do then, Admiral?” She was surprised when she saw the Admiral grin.

“Then, I’ll take a company of troops wearing powered combat armor down to pay the President a visit, and I’ll give her thirty seconds to rescind her veto and sign the motion.”

“And if she thinks you’re bluffing?”

Bentrik laughed. “I won’t have her shot in cold blood. Who would be left to sign the document? No, if she calls my bluff, I’ll just forge her signature and force her to touch the pad with her thumb to record her fingerprint. She can then claim all she wants that she didn’t consent to sign the thing, but I doubt if anyone will believe her. They’ll just think that she acquiesced to my show of force and is trying to save her reputation.”

The show of force turned out to not be necessary. The Grand Council made it clear that they were ratifying the vote under protest, and the President did the same after making sure that her signature and thumbprint were recorded by video, which was transmitted to Lexington. Bentrik demanded and got a video channel that was simultaneously broadcast to the entire planet.

“Now that the Federation has been officially disbanded, my mission here is done, and I’ll be taking my fleet to Marduk to begin spreading the news. Any Delegate wishing to hitch a ride will be welcome, and arrangements will be made on Marduk to bring all Delegates back to their home planets as quickly as possible. My fleet will leave orbit in two hours. One of my troop transports will land at the Canberra spaceport to pick up Delegates. That is all.”

Of the 610 Delegates to the Assembly from colonized worlds, 111 decided to hitch a ride back. Luckily there was room for them, barely, in one of the troop transports. Bentrik conducted a video conference with all his captains and senior ground force officers as the fleet approached the edge of the no-jump zone. The purpose of the conference was to confirm plans for when the fleet reached Marduk, and the person that Bentrik wanted to talk to the most was General Allenby.

“As soon as we micro-jump to the zone boundary, I’ll send the coded signal to the Committee that will trigger the pre-coup preparations. I want your ground forces ready to drop on the Capital the instant I give the green light, General,” said Bentrik.

“The shock troops will be loaded in their APCs, and the tanks will be manned when you need them, Admiral. I’ll be going down with the first wave to personally supervise the securing of the government sector.”

Bentrik did not allow his thinking to change his calm expression. He had known for months that Allenby had made secret plans to assassinate Bentrik at the first opportunity after the overthrow of the Federation-installed and election-rigged democratic regime that was there now. He also knew that Allenby was in cahoots with several members of the Committee who were fearful of Bentrik’s popularity among the warship crews and the organization’s operatives on Tanith. They correctly suspected that Bentrik had plans to install himself as the new Head of State and were only too eager to pledge their support to Allenby. The fools. Don’t they realize that Allenby’s only paying lip service to respecting the authority of the Committee? He’ll assassinate them the second they no longer serve any useful purpose. Bentrik resisted the urge to look at Colonel Hubert Santari, who would command the elite shock troops and was Allenby’s right-hand man. It had taken Bentrik’s shipping company staff a long time to find a ground force veteran from the war with the kind of grudge that Santari had with Allenby. And Allenby’s not even aware of the grudge. That’s the ironic part. He thinks Santari is a loyal subordinate. But the Colonel is loyal to me and will neutralize Allenby when he tries to make his move.

“Very good, General. If the Committee had done the job that they claim to have done, most of the security personnel surrounding the President and the Legislature will come over to us when I make my broadcast to the Mardukan people. So, I want it made clear to the shock troops that they only fire their weapons if fired upon first and to make sure they’re not firing on friendlies.” This time he did look at Santari.

“I’m make sure my troops know that, Admiral.”

“Good. I don’t expect that orbital bombardment will be necessary. In fact, I will bend over backward to avoid it. Just because the corrupt politicians running the current regime are Federation sympathizers doesn’t mean that we have to expand military operations to the general public. We know that most Mardukans would happily jettison the Federation in a heartbeat if they thought they could make it stick. When they see my eight battlecruisers and six super-freighters holding position over the Capital, they’ll believe that the Federation is dead and will welcome the shock troops as liberators. Civilians will not be fired upon regardless of the provocation. There may be small groups of government supporters who might resort to throwing things at our troops, but they won’t be armed with guns. The politicians have made sure the planet’s population has been disarmed. If these agitators start throwing rocks or other potentially dangerous objects, then we’ll let the security people loyal to us deal with them.” He paused for a few seconds before continuing.

“Now, as far as the fate of the President, the VP, and his Cabinet is concerned, they can be shot if they resist arrest. No questions will be asked.” Allenby, Santari, and the other ground force offices nodded solemnly. Bentrik had given that policy considerable thought. The Committee knew but couldn’t prove in a court of law that the President, his Vice-President, and several members of the Cabinet were corrupt. Bringing them to trial would take months, and if sufficient evidence couldn’t be found, they might actually be acquitted, which would allow them to begin opposing him politically. And while corrupt they definitely were, they weren’t stupid. In fact, they were intelligent and savvy enough to be dangerous. History was full of examples where a coup was itself overthrown by a counter-coup. There was too much at stake to risk that. Those that were smart enough to avoid getting shot resisting arrest would be offered a chance, along with their families, to take the next freighter, owned by a Terran shipping company, that arrived on Marduk.

“I haven’t created a specific timetable for operations because I want to have the flexibility of adapting the overall plan based on what actually happens, so all of you will have to be ready to react quickly if something unexpected happens. Are there any questions?” To his surprise, there were none. He adjourned the meeting, and ten minutes later, the fleet made their jump to Marduk.

DeChastelaine watched the ruby-red icon on the tactical display disappear as the rebel fleet jumped away. Admiral Granger and General Santander were standing on either side of her. She kept her focus on the display even as she began thinking of other things. She might not technically be the President of the Federation anymore, but she was still the Chief Executive of the Solar System. Her staff was already working on a draft motion for the Planetary Legislature to pass that effectively absorbed all ex-Federation military assets and personnel into a new Terran Navy and Army. Santander would retain his position as Chief of Army Operations, but Granger would have to be thrown under the bus of public indignation over the defeat of the Federation. It wasn’t fair, and DeChastelaine was certain the outcome would have been the same regardless of who was CNO, but someone had to take the blame, and it was a naval defeat. Granger’s replacement would have a lot to do, including trying to recover the three additional floating ships that Santander’s assault shuttle had spotted during the orbital recon of that blasted water planet. She had no illusions about being able to re-establish the Federation, nor did she really want to. The fall of the Federation would create a power vacuum that would eventually be filled by something new, and there was no reason why Earth couldn’t be the Capital of that something new. The phrase Terran Empire came to mind, and it sounded good. She turned to look at Granger.

“Admiral, let's go to my office. We need to talk.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Santari sat in the Command APC’s co-pilot seat as he listened to the Admiral’s broadcast to the Mardukan people.

“People of Marduk. I am Admiral Aren Bentrik, Military Commander for the Committee for the New Coalition of Independent Planets and Fleet Commander of the ships that you now see in orbit over Marduk. There are eight battlecruisers that were liberated from the Federation plus six very large freighters loaded with troops equipped with personal combat armor plus contra-gravity armored personnel carriers and laser-equipped tanks.”

“I thought we had nine battlecruisers,” muttered the young officer who would pilot the APC.

“The Admiral sent one to Tanith to bring back any others that might be there. Now shut up. I want to hear this,” said Santari.

“—the defeat of the Federation Navy at Terra plus the taking of their major bases has rendered the Federation impotent, and with the motion to disband the Federation altogether, all colonized planets are now free to determine their own destiny and put a stop to the exploitation of their resources by greedy, Terran-based companies. Those companies will now have to pay fair prices for the resources they get from planets like Marduk, or they won’t get those resources at all. And speaking of Marduk, there is one more step that has to be done before all Mardukans are truly free. I’m referring to the government that was rammed down our throats after we surrendered as the Capital of the System States Alliance. Prior to that day of infamy, we had a constitutional monarchy that worked well, with a royal family that was much loved. My father was the King’s brother before he and the King were killed in riots that some suspect were organized by Federation Army Intelligence. The King’s children signed documents renouncing all claims to the throne forever. They were then forced to leave Marduk, and their current whereabouts are unknown. I, on the other hand, did not renounce any hereditary rights, and I am now exercising those rights to assume the title of King of Marduk on an acting basis, subject to ratification by the people of Marduk in a referendum that will be organized soon. When the current corrupt regime has been arrested, the Committee for the New Coalition of Independent Planets will form a provisional government until such time as new and fair elections to the Legislature can be held and a new Constitution is created and ratified by the people of Marduk.”

“Simultaneously with this process, the Committee will begin the process of contacting and negotiating with other planetary governments for the establishment of a new multi-planetary organization to replace the Federation for the mutual support and protection of its member systems. This process will proceed must faster than it normally would because the Committee will be using the much faster jump drive technology that was secretly developed by the System States Alliance just prior to the war’s end. This new technology, when fully exploited, will cause interstellar economies to boom by reducing transportation costs and speeding up the transportation of materials, people, and capital.”

“And now I call on the security forces in the Capital of Malverton to find and detain the President, Vice-President, and all members of the Cabinet so that they can be arrested by my ground troops and to cooperate with those ground troops that are on their way now.”

“That’s the signal,” said Santari. “Echo Leader to all Echo units. We have the green light. All units proceed as per the plan.” Santari turned to look at the Pilot. “Let’s go, Cezar.” When the APC exited the huge cargo hold into the near-vacuum of Marduk’s upper atmosphere, Santari switched channels to the vehicle’s internal system. “General? The Regiment’s on the move.”

“Very good, Colonel. Keep me informed,” said Allenby, who was sitting in the back of the APC along with his HQ team.

Santari turned his attention back to the broadcast channel, but the Admiral had finished his speech and had signed off. The descent to the surface took five minutes. By the time the Command APC had dropped through the low-hanging clouds, most of the rest of the Regiment had already landed near the government buildings occupying the nine-block section of the city devoted to planetary government. The initial reports from the advance teams indicated that the security forces were cooperating, and any resistance was isolated and sporadic. That didn’t surprise the Colonel. Public opinion concerning the post-war regime was one of reluctant tolerance. Enthusiastic supporters were a tiny minority, and the Committee had determined from a careful investigation that most of the security people didn’t like the politicians they were protecting.

Two hours later, it was all over. Only two people, the Vice-President and one member of the Cabinet, had given the shock troops an excuse to shoot them. The Government Sector had been secured, and all security personnel who had resisted the coup had been either disarmed and arrested or shot. When the commandeered groundcar brought Santari to the spaceport, he was surprised by what he saw. Instead of two rows of honor guard that the Admiral would pass between when his shuttle landed, there was only one row, and they weren’t the platoon that Santari had selected for that task. These troops were the platoon that served as General Allenby’s HQ security unit, and each one of them had been picked for that unit by Allenby himself personally. Among the rest of the ground forces, the joke was that they were Caesar Allenby’s Praetorian Guard. Santari had always thought that description as amusing, but he wasn’t amused now. Why only one row when protocol required two rows facing each other. With one row, they don’t have to worry about getting caught in a crossfire. The thought shocked him with its implications. If Allenby wanted to assassinate the Admiral, then one row of troops loyal to him would make the perfect firing squad.

As he got out of the groundcar, he saw a group of people standing on the red carpet that had been laid for the Admiral’s arrival. They were the Directors of the Committee, and Allenby was standing among them along with his Aide. The group was in front of the honor guard, and Santari’s momentary relief that his fears about a firing squad were unfounded suddenly became the exact opposite. My God! He’s going to order the Guard to take out the entire Committee and the Admiral at the same time! The Admiral’s order had been clear. If Santari even suspected that Allenby was about to make an attempt on the Admiral’s life, he was to take pre-emptive action and terminate the General’s command with extreme prejudice. He started walking quickly toward the group while making sure his handgun holster strap was unhooked.

Allenby happened to glance in Santari’s direction and immediately turned to say something to his Aide. The Aide started walking toward Santari, and as he did so, he gestured to the two armed men at the end of the honor guard row. They rushed forward, and the three of them came up to Santari at the same time.

“Colonel, the General has ordered that you’re to return to the HQ. These two men will escort you there,” said the Aide. Santari was debating whether to attempt to quickdraw his pistol and fire at the General before the Aide, and the two men could interfere when the Aide must have detected a change in the Colonel’s posture or expression. “Grab his gun hand,” he said suddenly. “Remove the Colonel’s weapon. The General will deal with you later, Colonel. Take him away, men.” Santari cursed his hesitation as he was led away.

Bentrik was reviewing what he intended to say to the rest of the Committee when he heard the Pilot’s voice over the intercom.

“Admiral. Can you come up to the cockpit, Sir?” Something in the back of Bentrik’s brain told him that this was something important and urgent. He walked quickly to the assault shuttle’s cockpit.

“I thought you should see this, Admiral,” said the Pilot as he pointed to one of the screens that was showing a zoomed-in image of two armed men pulling a ground force colonel away from the landing zone. That’s Santari! Something’s going on. He looked at the row of screens that simulated windshields to see how high the shuttle was.

“Hold this altitude and circle the landing area, Lieutenant. I need time to think. Can this image be zoomed out? I want to see what’s going on in the wider area.” The Co-pilot manipulated his console, and the screen showing Santari zoomed out to show the entire landing zone, including the honor guard and the cluster of people on the red carpet. Bentrik nodded his head in silent understanding. He hadn’t expected the Committee to greet him at the spaceport, but their presence made perfect sense if Allenby was going to try to clear all the pieces off the chessboard with one action. Santari being almost dragged away confirmed his suspicions. The Colonel must have realized what Allenby was up to and tried to intervene.

“I’ve never seen an honor guard made up of just one row before,” said the Pilot. “It almost looks like a firing squad, Admiral.”

“That’s because it is a firing squad, Lieutenant,” said Bentrik in a low voice. He heard the officer mutter a curse. “Remind me what weapons this shuttle carries.”

“Autocannon firing explosive shells and a laser, Admiral.”

“The explosive shells would cause too much collateral damage,” said Bentrik thinking out loud. “Can the laser be aimed accurately enough to take out one person if there are others standing nearby?”

The Pilot looked over at his Co-pilot, who looked at Bentrik. “Depends on how steady the shuttle is and how close we are, Admiral. But in theory, yes, Sir, I can do it.”

Bentrik took a second to make up his mind. If he could take out Allenby and also his Aide, the firing squad would do nothing on their own initiative. He resisted the brief impulse to use the autocannon to wipe out Allenby, his Aide, and the entire Committee. While it would definitely simplify things, it would also be damned difficult to explain to the Mardukan population that their new Acting King, who claimed to be assuming the Crown in a legitimate way, just murdered the members of the new provisional government. He had no illusions about his ability to work with the Committee or their feelings about him. Some of them had already guessed what his ambitions were, while others had ambitions of their own. He and the Committee would eventually have a parting of the ways but not today.

“Do you know General Allenby by sight?” he asked the Co-pilot.

“Yes, Sir, and his Aide too, Sir.”

“Good. Then those two are your targets with the General first. Here’s what I want done.”

Allenby frowned as he watched the Admiral’s shuttle begin a second circle around the landing field. He heard the Committee Chair wonder out loud what did Bentrik think he was doing? He knows something’s up. Allenby turned to look at Santari, who was in the process of being pushed into a military vehicle by his two handlers. Is it possible that he saw Santari being forcibly removed from the field? Leave to that asshole to show up at the worst possible moment.

“I think he’s finally coming in to land,” said one of the other Committee members. Allenby looked back up and nodded. The shuttle was slowing down and dropping lower as it came around, passing over the honor guard. The General was about to say something when his head exploded. His Aide had just enough time to figure out that the shuttle had fired a laser that had superheated the blood in the general’s head in a fraction of a second, causing it to flash into steam and burst like a ruptured steam pipe before his head exploded too. As both bodies fell to the ground, Bentrik activated the shuttle’s external speaker.

“Release Colonel Santari immediately! All armed personnel will immediately lay their weapons on the ground and step back two paces! Colonel! Take command of the honor guard and make sure they don’t try anything until reliable reinforcements get here! Shoot any bastard that’s slow in obeying your orders! Members of the Committee! You are no longer in danger. General Allenby was planning a massacre aimed at me and all of you. As soon as his firing squad has been removed from the field, I’ll order this shuttle landed, but in the meantime, this shuttle is all that’s keeping all of you alive at the moment. I suggest you remain where you are.” Bentrik stopped when he saw that the group was already breaking up with some running for the nearest object they could hide behind. Santari had re-emerged from the vehicle and was walking quickly to where the firing squad honor guard was now standing in confusion. Orders for loyal units of the shock troop regiment to report to the spaceport had been sent out, and Bentrik expected them to arrive at any moment. Meanwhile, the assault shuttle was now hovering roughly 30 feet above the landing pad with its autocannon and laser pointed at the honor guard.

By the time the reinforcements had arrived and escorted the disarmed honor guard off the field, ten minutes had passed. The members of the Committee had come out of hiding and were congregating again on the red carpet as the shuttle settled down.

As Bentrik stepped down from the shuttle, he saw the Committee Chair, who still insisted on being called by his secret title, Phoenix One, coming up to him, followed by the rest of the Committee.

“I suppose that thanks and congratulations are in order, Phoenix Two. Thanks for saving our collective necks from that traitor, Allenby, and congratulations for winning the war against the Federation!” The others added their simultaneous concurrences. Phoenix One didn’t let Bentrik respond before continuing. “There is just one thing that the rest of the Committee wishes was different, and that is your announcement of assuming the Kingship on an acting basis. The plan, which you agreed to, by the way, called for leaving the question of restoring the constitutional monarchy open until a new legislature could be elected and constitutional negotiations started. I’ve already told my staff to prepare a statement over your name, telling the public that it was premature to claim the Crown on an acting basis at this time. I realize that it’ll be somewhat embarrassing for you to swallow that step backward, but you only have yourself to blame, you know.”

Bentrik looked around at the other Committee members who by this time had gathered around him. He wasn’t fooled by the Chair’s reassuring tone. Leaving the question of restoring the monarchy to a later date was just the Chair’s way of saying that restoring the monarchy was never going to happen. A monarchy would have interfered with his own ambitions to be elected the Head of State on a permanent basis.

“Well, Phoenix One, since you and a majority of the Committee had already agreed in principle to me assuming the title of King at some point, I just decided that it was better to get the people used to the idea now instead of later. I will, therefore, not be issuing any retraction statement. As Head of the Committee’s military wing, wearing the two hats as Fleet Admiral and King seems perfectly logical to me.”

Phoenix One’s expression was suddenly no longer friendly. “You serve as Head of the Committee’s military wing at the pleasure of the Committee as a whole. We can replace you in that position very easily, Phoenix Two.”

“Oh, you think so?” Bentrik turned his head slightly and waved his right hand. “Colonel Santari! Come over here, please.” The group made way for Santari to enter the circle.

“The traitor honor guards are being interrogated as we speak, Admiral,” he said.

“That’s fine, Colonel. Right now, I have a question for you. The Committee Chair has just threatened to have me replaced as the Head of the military wing of the Phoenix organization. I want you to tell the Chair whose orders you and the troops under your command would follow if the Committee replaced me with someone else in the chain of command.”

Santari’s expression took on a feral grin. “Why, yours, of course, Admiral. My people will continue to follow you, and so will the Fleet regardless of what this Committee does.”

Phoenix One’s expression was morphing into one of rage. “You’re just as bad as Allenby! He was driven by personal ambition, and so are you! I should have known that you were only paying lip service to the organization’s goals.”

To his surprise, Bentrik laughed. “Actually, you couldn’t be more wrong, Phoenix One. When I told you about Merlin’s prediction that the only way to avoid a massive collapse of civilization was to defeat the Federation and replace it with a loose confederation type of organization, that was only half the truth. The rest of the truth is that the loose confederation has to evolve into a centralized regime headed by a strong individual who has the authority and the will to deal with planetary unrest with force if necessary. I’m determined to see that evolution take place, and the first step will be becoming the Head of State of Marduk with real authority and not just some impotent figurehead monarch. If you and the rest of the Committee play along with me, you’ll go down in history as visionaries and statemen, and when it’s time to let go of the reigns of power, you’ll receive generous pensions. But if you resist me, you’ll disappear in the middle of the night, and your bodies will never be found. Right, Colonel?”

“Right, Admiral.”

The Chair’s rage was now fear. “I underestimated you, Phoenix Two. In hindsight, I should have recognized the hints that I saw but ignored that you were using us. Very well, it looks like you’ve won. The Committee will play along, and I’ll quash that retraction. Do you require anything more from us?”

“Not at the moment. You and the Committee may leave the field. Colonel, see to it that the Committee members reach their destinations safely.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As Bentrik watched them leave, he reviewed what had to be done in the hours, days, weeks, and months ahead, and there was a lot to do. With Federation currency now no longer legal tender, new Mardukan currency had to be created and distributed asap. The Delegates from other planets had to be transported home as fast as possible with the offer for a new, SSA-type of coalition. The troops occupying the Fed naval bases had to be brought home along with the captured light cruisers that would make excellent couriers if crews could be found for them. What happened to the Fed navy crews from those ships, Bentrik didn’t care about. That was Terra’s problem. And the Earth-based chartered companies had to be told what the new rules were. He grinned at the thought of his government buying back their Mardukan assets for worthless Federation sols. That reminded him that he still had control of a significant amount of Federation sols left over from the massive amount he hid on Abigor when he got there too late to join the refugee fleet. There were big freighters in transit between Terra and Marduk and other planets and Marduk that wouldn’t have gotten the news yet about the fall of the Federation and might still be willing to accept Federation currency for cargo that could then be resold for the new Mardukan currency. He needed to get Merlin’s latest projections and advice on how to handle the economic and financial aspects. And finally, he needed to keep a close eye on the members of the Committee. Their acquiescence, even if sincere, might only be temporary when the shock wore off. He was certain there were other things that had to be dealt with in the short run as well. Longer-term, he would bid his time and expand his fleet and ground forces, and when the time was right, the Mardukan Navy would become an Imperial Navy. The recollection about Abigor reminded him of the refugee fleet. He wondered how they had made out in the two decades since their departure. Maybe someday, he’d send out exploration ships to try to find them. But right now, it was time to get to work.

This is the end of Phoenix Empire book #1, Phoenix Dawn.

Author’s Comments:

I hope you’ve enjoyed this first book in my Phoenix Empire series, which will consist of stories taking place at various points in the alternative Terro-Human Future History, that will be separated by years, decades and perhaps even centuries. And yes, that includes the future of the Refugee Fleet too. It’s very important that people who like this book post a review. Books with lots of good reviews sell better than books with only a few good reviews. The best way to get notified of my new books is to follow me at www.Bookbub.com. Long Live Technothrillers and Space Opera!

D.A.W.

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