“Very well,” Kat said. She came to a grim resolution. “Commodore, prepare Beta Squadron for departure within one hour. I’ll be taking command personally.”
“Admiral,” Fran said. “I . . .”
“Your place is here,” Winters said at the same time. “Admiral . . .”
“It’s not up for dispute,” Kat said firmly. “I have to see it for myself.”
She kept her feelings hidden behind an expressionless mask. Winters was right, technically. Her place was on Ahura Mazda. But there was nothing she could do on the Theocratic homeworld that Winters and her staff couldn’t do without her. Taking the superdreadnought squadron and rushing to Judd might be a little unprofessional, perhaps even reckless, but the mission would break her out of her funk. Besides, she hadn’t lied. She needed to see what the enemy had done, if only so she’d be able to grasp it.
“Admiral,” Janice said carefully, “it’s highly unlikely the enemy ships will have remained at Judd.”
Kat nodded shortly. “I know,” she said. “But we have to make a show of responding to the threat.”
She tapped the terminal, bringing up the starchart. The vast majority of the liberated worlds were completely defenseless, save for the handful who’d managed to capture Theocratic starships or buy, beg, or borrow starships from the Commonwealth. And there was no way she could afford to position ships at each and every potential target. She simply didn’t have the numbers. The only good news, as far as she could tell, was that the enemy probably weren’t strong enough to run the Gap. They’d have to punch through the fleet covering Cadiz before they could slide into the Commonwealth itself.
“As long as they are careful, they can avoid contact with superior forces indefinitely,” she said slowly. She’d done it herself, although she had to admit that the enemy had baited a trap for her. It was a shame Admiral Junayd was dead. He might have had some useful insights. “But we’re going to have to find a way to track them back to their base.”
“Unless they’ve set up a fleet train in deep space,” Janice said.
“I doubt it,” Fran said. “Even we had problems transshipping supplies and making repairs in interstellar space. I wouldn’t bet a single rusty crown on the Theocrats being able to do it without risking a major disaster. No, they’ll have a base somewhere in unexplored space.”
Kat nodded stiffly. Fran was right. But finding the base was going to be an absolute nightmare. Even something as large as the giant fleet bases that had supported the Royal Navy was little more than a speck of dust against the immensity of interstellar space. There was no way she could search all the prospective star systems thoroughly enough to be certain there was no base there. Trying to do so would force her to pull ships off guard duty and convoy escort, leaving her weak elsewhere.
“I want to detach destroyers and place one or two in each possible system,” she said after a moment. “Their orders are not to engage, but to attempt to shadow the enemy fleet as it returns to its base. Once they get a solid lock on its position, they can report back here, and we’ll send a squadron of superdreadnoughts to smash the base into atoms.”
“It really needs to be taken intact,” Janice said. “We have to find out who’s supplying them.”
“If, indeed, someone is supplying them,” Fran pointed out. “You could be wrong.”
Kat rose. “I’ll discuss the matter with the king,” she added. She’d been due for a holoconference with King Hadrian anyway. It would just have to be brought forward. “And then I’ll move my flag to the Beta Squadron.”
She looked at Winters. “You’ll assume command here, upon my departure. Dismissed.”
“Aye, Admiral.”
Kat strode out of the conference room and down to her office. Kitty must have heard that Kat had returned early, because there was a mug of steaming coffee and a plate of sandwiches sitting on the desk. Kat sat down, keyed the terminal to open a StarCom link to Tyre, and started to eat. Nearly twenty minutes passed before the communications link solidified and the king’s face materialized in front of her. Kat allowed herself a tired smile as she pushed the remains of her snack to one side. She liked the king. He’d always struck her as someone willing to go the extra mile for his people.
“Your Majesty,” she said. Technically, as a privy councilor, she could call the king by his first name, but she’d always felt weird doing so. They weren’t social equals and never would be. “Thank you for taking my call.”
“You said it was urgent,” the king said. His voice was calm. “And it got me out of a boring meeting.”
Kat frowned. “I’m afraid things are about to become a great deal less boring,” she said, and outlined what had happened at Judd. “The Theocracy may not be dead after all.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “I warned them,” he snapped. “Just because we won the battles doesn’t mean we’d won the war.”
“No, Your Majesty,” Kat said. “We need more ships out here, as quickly as possible.”
“Parliament isn’t going to like that,” the king told her. He sounded bitterly amused. “They’re already talking about drawing the military down still further.”
“Then millions of people are going to die,” Kat said. She made a mental note to write a letter to her brother, although she suspected it would be useless. Peter had been a stiff-necked, colorless man practically from birth, if the nurses were to be believed. He’d certainly never had time to play with the young Kat. But then, Peter had practically been an adult when Kat had been a little girl. “You have to
