“Falladine, I think,” he said. “It has been trying to position itself as a sector leader, among other things. And that cannot be tolerated.”
Askew lifted his eyebrows. “It is hardly an undefended target.”
“No,” Admiral Zaskar agreed. “But that is precisely why we should target it.”
He took a long breath. “We will depart in a day and head for a point near the target system, which will give us a chance to scout out the defenses before committing ourselves,” he added. “By that point, we’ll have a worthwhile plan to hit the system . . . unless, of course, the enemy is too firmly entrenched.”
“God will be with us,” Moses said.
“We dare not challenge superior enemy firepower,” Admiral Zaskar reminded him, once again. God wouldn’t help someone who made a fool of himself. “If the place is heavily defended, to the point where we cannot prevail without taking substantial losses, we will leave it alone . . . for the moment. I will try to find other ways to hit the target.”
He looked at Askew. “Do your backers want us to be daring? Or merely noisy?”
“They want you to keep the Commonwealth off-balance,” Askew said. “What do you have in mind?”
“There are two other worlds near Falladine,” Admiral Zaskar said. He nodded to the starchart. “Neither particularly important. One of them is really nothing more than a quasi-habitable wasteland”—his lips twitched as he remembered how the locals had practically welcomed the Theocrats as saviors—“while the other has long-term potential. I believe we should attempt to hit both worlds with smaller units. It will not alter the balance of power in any real manner, but it will irritate the Commonwealth.”
Particularly if they have to pick up refugees from the wrecked world, he thought. That would put another strain on their shipping resources, would it not?
“An excellent idea, if you believe you can pull it off,” Askew said. “And what if you’re wrong?”
“There is always an element of risk in war,” Admiral Zaskar reminded him. “But the alternative is merely sitting here until our life support fails and we die.”
“God will not forgive us for abandoning the cause,” Moses said.
Admiral Zaskar wasn’t so sure. They had women now. A small number of women, to be sure, but women nonetheless. They could set sail into unexplored territory and find a world to settle, using the remains of their starships for raw materials. A few hundred years later . . . who knew what would happen? Something of the Theocracy would survive, wouldn’t it?
He sighed inwardly. The clerics would never let him get away with it. They wanted to continue the war, whatever the cost. Who knew? They might even be right. The Commonwealth might indeed retreat from the sector, allowing them to reclaim their homeworld and start rebuilding. It wasn’t as if any of the other worlds had any real hope of taking their place.
“I like it,” Askew said. He made a show of clapping his hands. “I’ll be accompanying you, of course.”
“Of course,” Admiral Zaskar echoed. Whatever else could be said about the mystery man, he was no coward. Merely being on a Theocratic ship would be enough to unnerve anyone who lacked nerves of steel. Askew had nothing to fear from the ship’s commanders, but their subordinates might react badly to the infidel’s presence. “I look forward to having you on my bridge.”
He smiled as best as he could. “Do you have any news from the outside universe?”
Askew lifted his eyebrow, challengingly. It was a rare Theocratic officer who’d take an interest in such matters, not when even a hint of such leanings could blight or destroy a man’s career. Why, it was alarmingly close to suggesting there was value in such matters. But Admiral Zaskar stared back, daring the younger man to make an issue of it. The Theocracy could no longer afford to ignore the outside universe.
“I have a news breakdown,” Askew said finally. “And a considerable number of updates from all over the Commonwealth. I’m afraid they do know about Judd.”
Admiral Zaskar nodded, tightly. It wasn’t a surprise.
“We’ll review them together,” he said to Moses. The enemy wouldn’t put their battle plans on the datanet, let alone broadcast them all over the galaxy, but the news might give him some insight into what the enemy were thinking. Were they gearing up to find his fleet and grind it into powder? Were they seriously considering abandoning the sector? Or something in-between? “We need to determine what they might be planning.”
“Of course,” Moses said.
Admiral Zaskar stood. “I’ll see you both later,” he said. “For the moment, I have a ship to inspect.”
“And plans to draw up, I imagine,” Askew said. “I’ll be in my cabin.” He walked out of the hatch, which hissed closed behind him.
Admiral Zaskar considered the younger man for a long moment, wondering again just who was behind him. He’d taken the precaution of having the man’s cabin searched while he’d been absent, but the searchers had turned up nothing of interest. Askew didn’t have anything that pointed to his homeworld, save perhaps for a datapad and a small collection of unmarked datachips. Admiral Zaskar hadn’t dared risk trying to read them. He suspected they’d be heavily encrypted.
And reading captured enemy datachips was impossible, he thought. They tended to erase themselves when we tried.
“I’ll be at my prayers,” Moses said. “I will pray for success.”
“Please,” Admiral Zaskar said. “The crew will appreciate it.”
He walked through the hatch and into the CIC. The crew were running a drill, supervised by the tactical officer. They’d shown a remarkable degree of improvement over the past couple of months, thanks to the combination of new equipment and better treatment. Admiral Zaskar promised himself that, if they ever did return to Ahura Mazda, they
