Someone definitely helped them, Kat thought. The Theocrats could barely keep their starships running. Anyone competent enough to modify missiles on the fly wouldn’t have been assigned to the fleet. They’d have stayed in the Ahura Mazda shipyards and probably been killed when the Commonwealth invaded. But who?
She keyed her console. “Tactical, I want a full analysis of the engagement by the end of the day,” she said. “And I particularly want to know how many of those superdreadnoughts are real.”
“Aye, Admiral.”
Kat forced herself to think as she replayed the recording, once again. Only three enemy superdreadnoughts had opened fire, which suggested they were the only real ships in the phantom fleet. Three superdreadnoughts were nothing to laugh at, and they could wreak havoc until the Commonwealth finally hunted the ships down and destroyed them, but they weren’t an unmanageable threat. And yet . . . she knew that there was no way she could be sure. There might have been five superdreadnoughts, with two of them holding their fire. It wasn’t as if they’d needed more than one superdreadnought to take out two cruisers.
They’re lucky they didn’t hit the planet, Kat thought. She didn’t like the implications of the Theocrats firing off so many missiles in a single engagement, not against a vastly inferior force. They clearly thought there was no chance of running out of missiles. Who’s helping them?
“Admiral,” the communications officer said, “I’ve managed to establish a link with a General Fox. He claims to be the current chief executive, as everyone above him in the line of succession is either dead or out of communication.”
Kat tapped her console, bringing up the files on Judd. There was no reference to a General Fox . . . or anyone, really, below the planetary president and his cabinet. The Commonwealth hadn’t bothered to collect any information on the planet . . . In hindsight, she told herself, that might have been a mistake. On one hand, Judd was independent; the locals could sort out their problems for themselves. But, on the other, she had no way of knowing who was the legitimate head of state. General Fox apparently didn’t know either.
They didn’t have time to set up a proper government since they were liberated, she reminded herself numbly. And now they’ve been bombed back into the stone age again.
“Put him through,” she ordered.
“Admiral Falcone,” a voice said. There was no image. It took Kat a moment to realize that General Fox, wherever he was, didn’t have access to a camera. She couldn’t believe it. Just how badly had the planet been hit? “I’d like to welcome you to Judd, but as you can see, we’re in no state to receive visitors.”
“I understand,” Kat said quickly. The general’s accent was thick. She thought she heard resentment underlying his words, but it was hard to be sure. “Can you give me a sitrep?”
General Fox laughed humorlessly. “They hammered us,” he said. “Every governmental building and military base has been destroyed, along with dozens of bridges, warehouses, and buildings I think were targeted at random. Oh, and they landed at the POW camps and armed the prisoners. The bastards are now causing havoc wherever they go.”
Kat frowned. There was something about the attack pattern that didn’t quite make sense. The Theocrats hadn’t nuked Judd, but they’d hit the planet hard enough to destroy the government and trigger a refugee crisis. It wouldn’t be as bad as they’d probably hoped, she thought, yet . . . they could have simply nuked the planet. Or dropped bigger KEWs. Had they wanted to set off a crisis?
Perhaps they did, she thought. We’d have to help the locals, which means draining our resources still further.
She glanced at the out-system display. The cloudscoop was gone. She guessed that the HE3 stockpiles on the planet’s surface had also been destroyed. Judd was going to have a power shortage along with everything else, although . . . She shook her head. There was no point in looking for small mercies. Thousands of people were going to die in the next few weeks, and there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she put in an immediate request for assistance, it would take too long for it to arrive.
“I see,” she said, racking her brain. There had to be something they could do. “How may we assist you?”
General Fox laughed again. “If you have shuttles or aircraft, it might be useful,” he said. “But unless you have your ships crammed with ration bars, I’m not sure what else you can do.”
“We’ll do our best,” Kat promised. Her marines had plenty of experience working with desperate refugees. Here, thankfully, there was little chance of being caught up in an insurgent attack. “I’ll start shipping supplies down to you at once.”
“Thank you,” General Fox said. “Admiral . . . how long can your ships remain in orbit?”
Kat grimaced. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. She’d have to dispatch the courier boats to alert the other systems within the sector, but . . . but it wasn’t as if there was anything most of the liberated worlds could do to defend themselves. “We’ll stay as long as we can.”
“Which won’t be long enough,” General Fox told her. “What happens when they come back?”
They won’t, Kat wanted to say. But she knew there was no way she could guarantee that. The Theocrats might return, sooner rather than later, and smash Judd flat once again. And she couldn’t keep her fleet on guard permanently. She’d have to go haring off to the next enemy target. There’s no way we can stay here.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But, for the moment, you’re safe.”
“Hah,” General Fox said.
He closed the channel. Kat took a long breath. She didn’t blame General Fox for being angry, both at the Theocrats and the Commonwealth. He and his former
