had been a long time since I’d computed a ballistic. By the time we got into space, Rawl was openly admiring my command of invective.
“Okay,” I began, “Now, it’ll take Hari half an hour or so to get Con roused and sobered up, and we're a couple of days from our jump point, so why don't you give me a quick overview of what's going on? It'll take more than a week to make the three jumps to Outback, so we'll have plenty of time later for a formal briefing.”
Rawl shrugged. “We've known of Jonas’ plans for about six weeks now. The Viceroy has been on sub-space with every planetary head of state in the sector. All but six have agreed to support the Viceroy. Three of the six are those where the peoples’ only concern is survival. The others are taking a ‘wait and watch’ position. When this is over, they're liable to regret that decision.
“Jonas is being very cautious, for him,” Rawl continued. “We don’t believe he’s aware that the Viceroy knows about his treachery. We can't be sure of his plans, of course, but we think he expects the Viceroy to invite him to Haven for the ceremony, and plans to bring his dreadnought and enough other forces to seize the Viceroy and the planet. We’ve been very careful not to make him suspicious. Routine messages are still flying both ways, with both of us pretending nothing is wrong.”
“When is the announcement supposed to take place? How long have we got?” I asked.
Rawl shrugged again. “The Viceroy estimates that we can't wait more than six to ten months. If we don't announce it within that time, the Emperor will probably do it himself.”
I frowned. “That's not much time to put together enough force to fight a dreadnought and three battle cruisers. Exactly what force does he have, anyway?”
“He has complete control of the Thaeron system, of course,” Rawl replied. “But except for the supply base on the planet itself and the orbiting repair docks, everything there is defensive. The fortified moons, the satellites, the minefields are all useless for attack. The only things that really matter are his ships. Well, those and his Marines.”
“All right,” I said, “Can you run down the ships for me?”
Rawl nodded. “To begin with, he has Nemesis, the dreadnought.” He shuddered. “I’ve seen Nemesis. She alone could be enough to take the sector. He also has three battle cruisers, Fearless, Dauntless, and Relentless, and five destroyers: Eagle, Gyrfalcon, Harpy, Predator, and Raptor. He had a corvette as well, but Fleet HQ recalled it for pirate interdiction or something.”
“Come to think of it,” he added, “He is a bit short of auxiliaries. As far as we know, he just has one transport for the Marines, and one fleet courier.”
I’d been listening carefully. A kilometer in diameter and bristling with lasers, particle beams and missiles, Nemesis carried fifty Strengl in-system fighters, an equal number of Wasp long-range fighters, and even five planet-busters. I shook my head and sighed. I was never a big fan of dreadnoughts. They’re dinosaurs, useless against modern tactics. But here, all Jonas needed to do was to set it to orbiting Haven, and make us come to him. There would be little opportunity for fancy maneuvers; it would just be a matter of standing toe to toe and slugging it out. In a slugging match, nothing in the universe could match a dreadnought.
The three battle cruisers were only about half the size of Nemesis but much faster and more modern, and almost as well armed. Battle cruisers were the backbone of the Fleet. Three of them should be able to overcome an entire fleet.
Of course, the destroyers were the Fleet's workhorses. Fast, agile and well armed for their size. One destroyer is usually enough to pacify a planet; Jonas had five.
With that battle group, Jonas should have little trouble overcoming a virtually unarmed sector. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to fight back. Oh, maybe we could cobble together some converted tramps or something, but certainly nothing that could seriously oppose Jonas’ force. I sighed. This was going to take a miracle.
I grimaced. “Time is the critical factor,” I said. “It’s going to take awhile to even work up designs for something to fight with. Of course, that's assuming we can even build anything we design.”
He nodded. “The Viceroy is well aware of that. That’s why he's sending you to Outback. Outback and the rest of the outer worlds are our secret weapons.”
“Humph. Nothing very secret about planets.”
Rawl shrugged. “Oh, everyone knows they’re there, Commodore. What's not generally known is their unique situation. The Outer Worlds consist of five systems, including Outback, on the edge of explored space. Any of them can be reached from any other in one jump. Because of their relative proximity, the five systems have formed a very close relationship. Though they remain independent, they tend to trade among themselves, and specialize. One is a farm world, two are mining planets, Outback is the manufacturing center, and the last, Gamma, is the administrative and trading center of the group. The other four systems all have representatives on Gamma, and though they don't have a formal treaty or anything, they all tend to work together.”
He paused. “They form an economic and political powerhouse within the sector. The Viceroy refers to them as the engine of the sector. The only world more prosperous has been Haven, and that's sure to change with the Empire gone.”
“The point is that the outer worlds are firmly behind the Viceroy. They’ve benefited enormously from his policies, and are well aware that they are becoming a huge power in the sector. Jonas, on the other hand, hasn’t even bothered to learn of their importance. He simply isn’t interested in what he calls ‘primitive dustballs’. His intelligence people know better, of course, but there’s some evidence that their reports are largely being disregarded by the Admiral.”
I chuckled. “That's Jonas, all right. Anything more than three jumps from Prime is barbarian country, and couldn't possibly matter.”
Rawl nodded. “I'd heard you know him. But why would a man like that want to take over the sector?”
I shrugged. “Probably because he realizes that he’s effectively been banished to the ‘outer reaches’ for life. He resents it, and plans to show the Emperor how good he is. I suspect that if he succeeds, he’ll try to claim that Cord was planning to rebel and he, Jonas, single-handedly prevented a rebellion and saved the sector for the Empire.” I shrugged again. “I imagine he thinks the Emperor will reward him by calling him back to Prime for a promotion and maybe a Duchy. It would never occur to him that the Emperor was trying to give the sector away.”
Rawl nodded again. “You may be right.” He grinned suddenly. “I’d love to see his face if he succeeded and tried to return the sector to the Emperor.” The grin faded as quickly as it had come. “You know, of course, that the fact of the Empire’s release of the sector is highly classified. You won’t be able to mention it to your crew.”
“I know. I make it a policy never to lie to my men, military or civilian. I’ll simply tell the truth, if not the whole truth. That Jonas is plotting to take over the sector, that Hari and I are being drafted by the Viceroy to put down the coup and Valkyrie is being converted to a Command and Control ship. All true.” I hesitated. “There are always things the troops can't be told; but that doesn't justify lying to them.”
When I called the shareholders meeting in Valkyrie 's mess deck, I made no speeches, no recruiting pitches. I simply told them, and offered them the choice. They could: (a) join up with Hari and me, (b) accept internment (in this case, simply temporary discharge from Valkyrie and an allowance to stay on Outback), or (c) sell back their shares for a premium price and a ticket on an inbound liner.
No one interrupted as I explained the situation, and the silence continued for minutes after I finished. Jax was flushed with excitement.
Jax had joined us on Pascua, his home world. Our Comm Officer came down with Reiber’s Fever, and we’d had to buy him out. The port officials on Pascua wouldn’t let us lift without a Comm Officer, and the Trader's Guild office had no one to send us. We’d been sitting on the port apron for more than a week when Jax showed up.
He’d hitchhiked almost a thousand kilometers to try to join us. Hari was on duty at the time, and by the time I arrived Hari was his biggest fan. The three thousand Pascuan piastres his father had given him weren’t enough for a full share, but they were his father’s life savings. At Hari’s urging, we came up with a complicated deal that let Jax buy some cargo and deadhead to our next port of call where, hopefully, the profit from his 3,000 piastres would be enough to purchase a share. Owing to some creative bookkeeping by Hari, it was, and Jax was inordinately proud of being a full partner. Just now, he was caught up in romantic visions. Fighting always seems romantic to the young — until they've experienced it.
“So, It wasn't smuggling, huh, Capt… uh Commodore? That was just in case of spies, right?” Jax was squirming with excitement.
