“They’re opening a vortex,” Patti said urgently.
“Then take us into realspace,” William said. He sat down, bracing himself. This was the most dangerous part of the mission. Normally, if he’d wanted to sneak into a star system, he would have opened the vortex and emerged on the very edge of the system, well out of detection range. This time, though, they had to stay close to the enemy ships. “And stand by to run for it.”
The ship shuddered as the vortex opened, casting them into realspace. William watched the display blank out, then hastily reboot itself as data flowed into the passive sensors. The star was right where his computers had placed it, a dull red sun of no interest to anyone. He checked the location and nodded to himself. The system would have been way down the list for a formal visit, let alone a survey, even if the war hadn’t continued after the enemy homeworld had been captured.
“Engage the cloak,” William ordered. “And alert me if they start sweeping with active sensors.”
“Aye, sir.”
“The enemy ships are heading towards a collection of asteroids,” Patti reported. “Passive sensors are picking up a handful of other signatures.”
Muffled signatures, William thought. And if that isn’t proof we’ve found a base, I’ll eat my hat.
He hesitated, suddenly unsure what to do. The safest course of action was to sneak out of the system and whistle up a superdreadnought squadron. They could be at the nearest StarCom in less than a day and summon help, or head all the way to Ahura Mazda if he didn’t feel like trusting the communications network. Someone might have betrayed the convoy, after all. But he wanted, needed, to gather as much information as possible. Who knew what might be waiting for the Royal Navy when it arrived?
“Take us after them very slowly,” he ordered. “And don’t let them catch a sniff of us.”
He frowned as the system continued to reveal its secrets. Two superdreadnoughts . . . no, three. But the third looked to be largely powered down. Judging from its energy signature, he doubted it could fly or fight. The Theocrats might simply be cannibalizing the hulk for spare parts. Beyond them, a handful of other ships . . . including a number of freighters. He shuddered, remembering the reports of missing ships. The Theocrats might have been engaged in piracy for fun and profit between hitting planets. Who knew how many ships they’d snatched and taken to their base?
“The base itself looks old,” Patti commented. “They might not have built it.”
William agreed. He’d seen hidden colonies that had been captured by pirates before. The original settlers hadn’t been given a choice, assuming they’d survived either the colony itself or the invasion. The Theocrats had probably stumbled across the asteroids during their period of expansion, captured them, and then simply sliced their existence out of the records when the war ended. Or maybe their existence had never been recorded at all.
“Don’t take us any closer,” he ordered. “But see if you can get a headcount.”
“Yes, sir,” Patti said. “Will the Royal Navy be able to take the base out?”
“Easily,” William said. “If they can kill those superdreadnoughts, the rest of the ships won’t pose a problem.”
And then they can withdraw from the sector with a clear conscience, he added silently. I wonder what that will do for politics on Tyre?
“Asher Dales was defended by two superdreadnoughts?” Admiral Zaskar wasn’t sure he believed the report. “And they drove you away?”
“Yes, sir,” Captain Miles said. He looked as if he was expecting to be executed on the spot. “We thought it would be better to retreat.”
“You were probably right,” Admiral Zaskar said. “We need to preserve our ships.”
He kept his real thoughts to himself as he watched the recording one final time. He had a suspicion that Miles and Captain Hammed had been tricked, but he had no solid proof. They certainly hadn’t lingered long enough to see if those superdreadnoughts would actually open fire. The enemy could have been simply incompetent, or messed up the timing, but he doubted it. The Commonwealth had learned from its mistakes. Their ships were no longer sitting around in orbit for him to smash at will.
“Return to your ships and complete your repairs,” he ordered finally. “You’ll be going out again as soon as we obtain new missiles.”
“Yes, sir.”
“They could have pressed the offensive,” Moses said once the two captains had been escorted out of the office. The cleric had been unusually quiet during the debriefing. “If they’d hit Asher Dales . . .”
“It wouldn’t have been worth the cost,” Admiral Zaskar said. Moses might believe that Asher Dales represented a long-term threat, but Zaskar suspected it didn’t matter. They’d done all they could; now, they’d just have to wait and see if the enemy really did abandon the sector. “We couldn’t replace the cruisers.” He leaned back in his chair. “And we’re having problems replacing the missiles too.”
“Askew isn’t able to find new missiles?” Moses looked worried. “None at all?”
“Not so far,” Admiral Zaskar said. “I imagine he’s having problems.”
And he might want to keep us helpless, a voice whispered at the back of his mind. If we’ve served our purpose, he might consider us expendable.
“So . . . when can we resume the offensive?” Moses started to pace the compartment. “And when can we hit them again?”
“For the moment, we should wait and see what happens,” Admiral Zaskar said. “Right now, we are in no state to meet even one of their superdreadnoughts. We need to replace our missiles, repair our ships, and then decide what we want to do next.”
Moses stopped pacing and turned to face him. “And what if we
