Mission of Honor

tell you , and even there, I lack the words to express the depth of that pride.

'Ladies and gentlemen of the fleet, for centuries our ancestors have worked and planned for this moment.' He swept them with his eyes once more, seeing the shoulders come back once again, seeing the eyes brighten anew. 'Those ancestors cannot be here today, and so I find myself forced to stand in their place. But if they could be here, if it were possible for them to speak to you, I know that they, as I, would say 'thank you.' Thank you for your courage, your dedication, your professionalism, and for the brilliant way in which you've finally begun the crusade for which all of us have hoped, planned, and waited for so very long.'

* * *

'Did I lay it on too thick, Ben?' Albrecht asked an hour or so later as he, Evelina, and their son sat down to a private supper. There was more than a hint of humor in his tone, but Benjamin wasn't fooled.

'Actually, Father,' he said very seriously, 'I think they understood you meant every word of it. I certainly did, at any rate.'

Albrecht looked sharply at him across the table, and Benjamin returned his regard levelly. After a moment, Albrecht picked up his wineglass and sipped.

'Now you've gone and embarrassed your father,' Evelina scolded with a small smile. 'Don't you know the Chief Executive of the Mesan Alignment isn't supposed to come all over sentimental just because the Navy's officers have performed so superbly?'

'Oh, hush, Evie.' Albrecht lowered his glass and shook his head at her. 'I know perfectly well I can't fool you or Ben.'

'No, and there's no reason you should try to fool the Navy over this one, either,' she told him. 'I agree with every word you said to them, Albrecht. And I hope they know exactly how deeply you meant it.'

'So do I,' Benjamin said.

'Well, I do wish we'd caught more of their construction in the yards,' Albrecht said. 'I know all the analysts agree that taking out their ability to resupply with missiles was even more important, but I'd really hoped we could get a bigger jump on them when the Detweilers begin commissioning.'

Benjamin frowned, but he also nodded.

The Mesan Alignment had established the first colony on Gamma almost two hundred T-centuries ago, and it had grown steadily since, although the really exponential growth had begun only over the last seventy T-years or so. Exactly when to begin that particular side of the Alignment's preparations had always been a bit ticklish, since no matter how well it was hidden, there was always the possibility of someone's stubling across it, which could have raised all sorts of questions. On the other hand, the capabilities Darius represented had always been central to the Alignment's strategy, and Albrecht's grandfather had authorized the first colonization flight as one of his last acts as the Alignment's chief executive.

By now, the Darius System's total population was in the very near vicinity of 3.9 billion, of whom just under two billion were representatives of one of the alpha, beta, or gamma genomes the Alignment had worked to improve for so long. The remainder of the system population were genetic slaves, but the conditions of their slavery were very unlike those which obtained elsewhere. For one thing, they were treated far better, without the often savage discipline slaves often received elsewhere. In fact, the Darius System was one of the very few places where the Mesan Constitution's official legal protections theoretically intended to protect slaves from gross mistreatment were actually enforced. For another, they had a much higher standard of living. And for yet another, they formed the backbone of a highly trained, highly skilled labor force which had earned the respect of its supervisors.

Every one of those slaves had been born here in Darius, and not one of them had ever left the system. Their knowledge of what was happening elsewhere in the galaxy, of the history of Mesa, or of their own history had been carefully controlled for generations. They'd been aware for those same generations that they and their parents and grandparents had been laboring to build first the basic industry and then the specialized infrastructure to support a massive navy, but they were convinced it was intended as a defensive fleet.

Yet for all the years which had been plowed into Darius, all the effort, all the generations of labor, the fact remained that its space stations and shipyards were significantly less capable than Manticore's had been prior to Oyster Bay. Benjamin Detweiler didn't like admitting that, but he agreed with his father; the day someone stopped admitting the truth was the day he could kiss any of his hopes for the future goodbye. And the truth was that, despite the accomplishments of the Alignment's R&D, and despite any tactical advantages which might accrue from the streak drive and the spider, very few star nations could have matched the industrial efficiency of the Star Empire of Manticore. Indeed, Benjamin suspected that even Manticore had failed to grasp just how great an advantage it possessed in that regard.

Over the last five or six T-years, he and Daniel had been trying to introduce Manticoran practices here at Darius, only to discover that the task wasn't as simple and forthright as it ought to have been. If they'd really wanted to duplicate Manticore's efficiency , they would've had to duplicate Manticore's entire industrial base—and its society—and they simply couldn't do that. Their labor force was extraordinarily good at following orders, extremely well trained, and highly motivated, but the kind of independence of thought which characterized Manticoran workers wasn't exactly something which had been encouraged among the slave workers of Darius. Even if it had been, their basic techniques and technologies were simply different from Manticore's. Better than the majority of League star systems could have produced, if those other star systems had only realized it, yet still at least a full generation behind the Manties.

'I wish we'd taken out more of their wall, too, Father,' he said finally. 'On the other hand, the point about their missile supply is extremely well taken. Especially if we can get them to use up most of the ones they've got on the Sollies.'

'I know.'

Albrecht sipped more wine, then looked down into his glass.

'I know,' he repeated, 'but I've been thinking. I know they got away from us in the yards, but we know where they are , and—'

'No, Father.'

The two words came out very firmly, and Albrecht looked up to see Benjamin sitting back from the table and folding his arms across his chest. For a moment, there was something almost comical about the father's wheedling expression and the stern light in the son's eyes.

'I know what you're about to say, Father,' Benjamin continued. 'In fact, Dan and Collin and I figured it might occur to you as soon as we realized we hadn't caught as many ships in the yards as we'd hoped.'

'So the three of you sat down and discussed it behind my back, is that it?' Albrecht's voice could have been ominous, but instead, it was almost quizzical, and Benjamin shrugged.

'You're the one who put me in charge of the Navy, Daniel in charge of research, and Collin in charge of intel, Father. I don't think you did it because you expected us to sit on our brains.'

'No, you're right about that,' Albrecht acknowledged.

'Well, since we were using them as something besides cushions, it occurred to us to think the same thing you're thinking. If Topolev and Colenso could get into Manticore and Yeltsin's Star undetected, why not do the same thing to Trevor's Star? Pick off the warships we didn't get first time around?'

'That is what I was thinking,' Albrecht said. 'From your response, I'm assuming the three of you decided it wasn't such a great idea after all?'

'Oh, the idea' s just fine, Father. The problem is how likely it is that we wouldn't get away with it. Let's face it, Oyster Bay was in many ways a one-off operation. It succeeded because the Manties didn't have a clue about our capabilities. Well, now they do—have a clue, I mean. They still don't know how we did it, but they damned well know we did do it, and if nothing else, they're going to be pouncing on every 'ghost footprint' their hyper sensors pick up with everything they've got. And, frankly, the fact that we haven't been able to come up with an effective detector for the spider drive doesn't fill me with unbounded confidence that the Manties might not have something we don't even know about that could do the job. I think it's unlikely , but I'm not prepared to assume it's impossible.

'So looking at it from the perspective of getting in in the first place, things would be a lot more iffy a second