the more enthusiastic they get.” I shook my head. “I don’t pretend to understand it, but when Toms went looking for volunteers for this experiment, all of them volunteered, and more than half said they’d prefer to stay in the boats during jump.” I sighed. “I have to use them, Shar. They’ve turned out to be the best weapon I have. But I know that casualties will be high.”
In any event, we’d demonstrated that Toms’ idea was feasible; destroyers could carry their own fighter escorts.
Experimentation showed that a destroyer could play host to nine external boats, three attached near each of her three personnel airlocks.
I'd kept my word to Shar. I stayed off Valkyrie ’s bridge unless on duty, and my long, rambling talks with Suli had degenerated to embarrassed monosyllables.
Things were coming together, though. We’d decided to leave five of the rim tramps unarmed, so that they could function as intelligence gatherers and as contacts for Cord’s extensive network of agents. The last of the others were in the shipyard now. Most of the existing mining boats were already armed, and more armed boats were being stamped out at the rate of several per day. We now had well over a hundred and fifty of the lethal little monsters, and were beginning to run out of skilled miners to fly them.
My biggest problem now was Cord. Why do politicians always seem to believe that political power automatically makes them military strategists? The only thing that kept him from ordering me to attack Jonas at Thaeron was the damage to our only battle cruiser, Fearless. Thaeron was a fortified system, with defenses in depth. Our small forces would never even reach the orbit of Thaeron itself. Nevertheless, it was becoming more and more difficult to restrain Cord.
I didn’t have to restrain him for long. Jonas’ flotilla emerged in Haven’s system.
There was no panic. We’d prepared and rehearsed for this day. It would take more than a day for Jonas to reach Haven’s orbit; by then we’d be gone.
A grim Cord addressed the people of Haven from the palace, blanketing the commercial airwaves. “Citizens of Haven,” he began. “That which we have feared has come to pass. Traitors and mutineers have taken over the Fleet forces on Thaeron. They are attempting to seize the entire sector, and are now approaching Haven. Many of you have already made sacrifices, and many more of you have helped in our efforts to prepare for the coming battles. Now I must ask you to sacrifice even more. We are not yet ready to engage the enemy, and our forces must withdraw from the system.
“But we are not simply leaving you defenseless, nor are we running away. A resistance force has been established on Haven, and other preparations have been made. All sector and planetary records have been copied from their host comps, and the comps wiped. All state and local officials have been urged to take the same precautions.
“But you are all warriors, now, my people. Yours is a war of passive resistance. If you can inconvenience the enemy in even the smallest way without risking your life or health, do so. Do not give the enemy a moment’s peace. Do not cooperate with him except under threat of violence, and then do your best to sabotage your efforts. If an enemy soldier comes into your restaurant, make sure his food is inedible. If he brings his clothes to your laundry, return them stained and torn. Every little inconvenience, every irritation, is a victory for us. It distracts him from his main mission, seizing and holding the rim.
“Admiral Jonas thinks rimworlders are uneducated, uncivilized bumpkins. You and I know better. Over the past twelve years, I’ve learned that the rim worlds don’t breed fools and weaklings. That’s for the inner worlds, the worlds that breed the Jonases of the Empire. The rim worlds breed tough, independent people; people who will not easily bow to tyranny just because a dreadnought brings it.
“We will fight them, my people. We will fight them, and we will win. We go now to complete our preparations. When we are ready, when the enemy is off-balance, we will return with a fleet, and Jonas and the other traitors will taste rim world courage and rim world vengeance!
“I must go now, my people. I have many preparations to make. But never forget, even if the days stretch into weeks, and the weeks into months, never forget and never doubt that I shall return, and I shall have my vengeance!” His fist slammed into his desk as he said his last sentence. It was obvious that Cord wasn’t frightened, just angry. A beautiful performance.
A few minutes later, every vid channel on the planet broadcast Cord boarding the rim tramp that now served as Rimrunner ’s replacement. Despite the swirling snow, his head was held high, his carriage proud.
The boats that were to remain in the system retreated to their asteroid base before Jonas’ ships reached detector range. Predator, Harpy, Valkyrie and the three remaining armed rim tramps assumed formation around Cord’s ship, and we began boosting for a jump point too far in-system for Jonas’ less advanced ships to use.
When we reached “Bolt Hole,” our secret base and Cord’s temporary headquarters, he lost no time in summoning me. His manner was grim. “How long, Admiral? How long must my people suffer before we can attack Jonas?”
I shrugged. “Months. Definitely more than three, possibly five, probably not more than six. We can’t take any action until we know a lot more than we do now.”
He slammed his fist on his desk. “Damn it, Admiral! I want something done!”
I sighed. “Something is being done, Viceroy. Men are at this moment risking their lives to learn things that we need to know.”
It was an unsatisfying meeting. We were both angry by the time it ended. However, I was more than angry. I was worried. Cord was on the verge of ordering me to do something stupid. And when he did, I’d have to decide whether to obey, or to resign and turn good people over to the command of a politician.
Three unarmed rim tramps had remained on Haven, behaving as though it were trade as usual, loudly denying any connection to the Viceroy or his puppet, Kedron, and equally loudly demanding to be allowed to continue trading. I heard that Captain Cony waxed positively poetic as he described how much the rim worlds depended on the traders. I could imagine how Jonas would react to Cony’s thick accent. Jonas would immediately brand him a stupid barbarian, and would probably let him go just to shut him up.
Something worked. Jonas put out the word that the tramps could continue trading unhampered. 'Makes’t a bloody smuggler’s paradise,' Cony moaned to me, “’n we cain’t afford t’ do nawt about it!” There was genuine anguish in his tone; the tone of a trader deprived of obvious profit.
We worked out a schedule that allowed at least one tramp to be in the Haven system at nearly all times. The tramps would take on a cargo, then, on their way to the jump point, would rendezvous with a boat and exchange messages and supplies for the asteroid base.
After reporting to Bolt Hole, they would proceed to visit their usual ports of call via Outback, and then return to Haven via Bolt Hole. This meant that we got reports almost weekly, with information in some cases only a few hours old.
The only exceptions to this schedule were the two unarmed tramps tasked with supplying the three planets in the sector that were not yet self-sufficient. Supplying those planets was critical, regardless of the risk. The captains of those two tramps cursed and moaned about being away from the action; but they were very quiet about the profits they were earning.
Jonas was busy. His fleet assumed orbit around Haven. The planetary government hardly let him get into position before announcing their capitulation. Jonas sent Nemesis ’ marines to seize the capitol and the viceregal palace. The marines met with no overt resistance, of course, but they were pelted with garbage and called names by crowds lining their route from the landing field.
I could imagine how the marines felt. They didn’t expect to be treated as heroes, but they’d never before been treated as invaders and traitors. Much of that, and morale would begin to slip badly.
Jonas took over all regular comm channels to address the people of Haven. He should have used a polished spokesperson, but that would have been out of character. He was no politician, no trained speaker. His claims that Cord was preparing to rebel against the Emperor were patently false to people that had known Cord for twelve years as a loyal viceroy, and had seen the tape of the Emperor’s visit. His demands that the people aid him in defeating Cord were merely whiny, his claim of authority merely pompous. Overall, it was not a sterling performance; and what immediately followed only made it worse.
The skipper of our asteroid base chose his moment well. As soon as a time was announced for Jonas’ speech, he computed the lightspeed lag, and then triggered a buoy that was floating at the edge of the system. The broadcast reached Haven just as Jonas was running down.
