Bendo and Jamro were as enthusiastic as Cord. They felt the boats would give them a decisive edge. I wasn’t so sure, but the only armed rim tramps available at the moment weren’t fully crewed. They’d have to go it alone.
We decided to jump Jonas’ destroyers in the Lonesome system. Lonesome was one of the three planets still being colonized. There were only a few thousand people on it. It probably wouldn’t suffer reprisal for the battle.
Predator and Harpy deployed their boats and picketed the main jump point. They maintained patrols of half their strength of boats, rotating them every few hours. This meant that each destroyer would have four or five boats grappled to it at any given time, while nine boats patrolled. The off-duty boat pilots would be relaxing in the airlocks, suited but with their helmets off.
They didn’t have long to wait. Gyrfalcon and Eagle emerged less than a day after Predator and Harpy. The boats on patrol swarmed almost instantly, and the rest of the boats joined them before Jonas’ ships could get their shields up.
Dodging, wheeling, the boats corkscrewed or arrowed in, slashed viciously with their lasers or mass drivers, and then bounced away on their pressor beams. The two destroyers were sitting ducks for almost three minutes until their weapons system power came online. Finally, their consoles came to life and a few of the braver gunners began overriding their battle comps and trying to manually aim their weapons. The destroyers’ battle comps didn’t have a hope of locking onto these bouncing, jinking, torturers.
Then Predator and Harpy closed in and the slugfest began. Even with the boats, it was a bloody mess. The gunners aboard Jonas’ destroyers had to shift their attentions from the swarming boats to the more heavily armed destroyers. The boats had to be treated as secondary targets.
Secondary, perhaps, but not ineffective. One of the boats slammed a laser beam into a weakened area of Eagle ’s shields, and suddenly Eagle became an expanding ball of incandescent gases, the first verified kill by an attack boat.
Unfortunately, Eagle was closely engaged with Harpy at the time. The explosion overwhelmed Harpy ’s shields and caused serious hull damage, disabling six laser and particle beam weapon stations.
Gyrfalcon drove frantically for the jump point, with Predator and a flock of boats in hot pursuit. One of Predator ’s particle beams was seen penetrating Gyrfalcon ’s shield and hull split seconds before she jumped.
Suddenly it was over, and all that remained was to lick our wounds and evaluate the results of the battle.
Shar had been right about the boats. Of the eighteen used in this first-ever battle, only seven remained operational, though one pilot was rescued from his disabled boat. Following normal Fleet procedure, Predator and Harpy recovered what they could of the ten dead pilots’ bodies and body parts before jumping out.
Harpy was in rough shape. Almost half her crew was in suits. She was running on 38 % power, though her jump engines seemed all right. With nearly half her weaponry disabled, she wouldn’t be battle-ready for some time.
Predator was somewhat better off. She’d been holed in two compartments, but both had been resealed, and integrity restored. She’d lost almost a fourth of her weapons stations and over a dozen crew.
Quick damage inspections revealed that both were still jump-capable, though Harpy ’s nav comp had slight damage.
They limped back to Bolt Hole to a hero’s welcome. They were the first of Cord’s forces to meet the enemy in battle, and the attack boat pilots were the first, period. Cord was grinning from ear to ear, but I was less enthusiastic.
True, we’d destroyed one of Jonas’ destroyers, and an incoming rim tramp informed us that after reporting to Jonas, the badly damaged Gyrfalcon had been sent to Thaeron for repairs that would obviously take months.
Nevertheless, I rated it a net loss for Cord; all three of his true warships were damaged.
Fearless, our battle cruiser, had jumped out of the Outback system with the help of an attached rim tramp’s comp. She was battle-ready, except that she had no jump comp; and without that, getting her into battle was going to be the problem.
Harpy was probably out of action for the duration. She needed an orbital repair dock. Jamro was cursing volubly as he enumerated her battle damage and casualty lists; but cursing wasn't going to help Harpy — or us.
Predator was the bright spot. She could be repaired even with the limited facilities available to us, and her crew casualties could be made up from Harpy. Repair time was estimated at two to three weeks. “Make it two, maximum!” I ordered.
With one destroyer converted to emm cee squared and another damaged, Jonas was down to Nemesis, two cruisers, Relentless and Dauntless, and one destroyer, Raptor.
“Well, Admiral,” Cord beamed. “Your crazy boats seem to work.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “But I certainly hope that sixty percent casualty rates aren’t typical.” I sighed. “And we’ve lost the element of surprise. They know about the boats now. They'll be trying to figure out defenses as we speak.”
He grinned. “I know. However, it was worth it, Admiral. We’ll call Wil Tor on Haven, and have the rim tramps spread rumors of the battle to the other planets. Sheol! Jonas couldn’t have hidden the condition of that damaged destroyer; I’d bet rumors are already circulating.” He shook his head. “I know you don’t understand, Admiral, but that victory is worth a dozen destroyers!”
He sobered. “Now. Do we know who the boat pilot was that blew up the destroyer?”
Jamro answered. “Yes, sir. A miner from Keth’s World. But he was caught in the blast, and is one of our ten boat casualties.”
Cord nodded. “Very well. Captain, I want you to recommend him for the silver comet. As I understand it, you were closest to the action.”
“Yes, sir. I’d already suggested something like that to the Admiral.”
“Good!” Cord smiled. “Now, I want you, Captain, to take a rim tramp to Keth’s and track down some of the man’s family. Bring them here for a public ceremony.”
“Uh, sir,” Jamro began uncomfortably, “I’ve got repairs to my ship to oversee, and…”
“No, you don’t.” Cord interrupted, “Come, Captain, do you think I can’t recognize serious damage when I see it? Your ship is out for the duration, and you know it.” His manner softened. “I’m sorry, Captain,” he continued quietly, “But it’s true. Harpy needs a shipyard, and we don't have one.”
“What you don’t understand,” he continued, “Is that this mission can help our cause as much as Harpy and her entire crew. We desperately need a hero. The rim needs one, and those boat pilots especially need one. This young man genuinely was a hero, and I intend to see to it that his heroism is recognized. By sending a ship’s captain to bring back his family, we’re showing the rim how important this young man’s heroism was.”
“When you get his family back here,” Cord continued, “we’ll tape the award and the memorial ceremonies for the other twenty-two casualties we suffered and have the rim tramps smuggle copies of the tapes onto every planet in the sector. Don't be surprised if that boy ends up the rim’s first sector-wide hero.”
When the other officers had left, Cord turned to me. “All right, Admiral. You’re scowling. Why?”
I shrugged. “I just don’t like seeing you use those young peoples’ bravery and heroism for political gain, I guess.”
Cord paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Admiral,” he said quietly, “I’m getting a bit tired of your attitude. I’ve never dealt less than honorably with you, yet you continue to ascribe less-than-honorable motives to my every move. Was it dishonorable of me to use those young men to fight for our cause?”
“No, sir, of course not.”
He nodded. “Nor is it dishonorable for me to honor their heroism and sacrifice by sharing their ceremonies and awards with the people they fought and died for. Alive, they served by fighting a battle. Dead, they will serve by giving hope to all the people of the rim. You know better than I the real value of military ceremony. It seemed that there was always some cretin in the Imperial Assembly complaining about the waste of money for military ceremony and customs such as the ‘round trip ticket’.
“And every time it happened,” he continued, “every Admiral and General in the Fleet let out a howl that could be heard to the Pleiades! I know as well as you that morale and esprit de corps are two of the most important reasons that men fight.” His fist slammed his desk. “Damn it, Admiral, I’m honoring their service, not abusing their memories. And I resent your constant implications of dishonesty!”
“I’m truly sorry, sir,” I replied. My apology was genuine. Cord had always been honorable in his dealings with me. “I’m afraid I’m guilty of typing you as a politician; and the few politicians I’ve dealt with were the ultimate pragmatists. Right was whatever was good for their career, and wrong was anything that risked compromising or diminishing their power.” I shrugged. “You are quite correct, sir. I’ve never seen you display that kind of behavior, and I have no right to ascribe dishonorable motives to you.”
Cord grinned and nodded. “I understand, Admiral. Many if not most politicians are of the type you describe. But some of us are capable of seeing beyond our own noses.” He waved dismissively. “Now, tell me about our next operation.”
Cord was turning into a real fire-eater. A narrow victory over two destroyers had whetted his appetite. I hoped I could keep him from wasting good people.
When Kaleen called via subspace, we were still arguing. Cord wanted to mount another attack immediately, this one on Relentless, the Battle Cruiser Jonas had sent to Gamma.
I had just made the point that Jonas was certain to recall the Cruiser, in light of the destroyer battle. Cord was saying that was why we should strike now, when the comm tech called us.
Tempers still hot, we went to the comm room.
It was Wil Tor, of course. “Admiral, Viceroy, I’m afraid I have a bit of a problem down here. Lieutenant Colonel Ratjek, my CO on Thaeron, has deserted Jonas, and was picked up by my people last night.”
“That doesn’t exactly sound like a problem, Sneaker,” Cord said. “In fact it sounds like a coup. If the CO of Jonas’ Marine Detachment defects, surely others will follow.”
“Yes, Sir,” Wil replied, “You’re right, of course. The problem is that I’m the CO of the resistance unit. Now, the Colonel outranks me. Oh, the Colonel has no real problem with being under my command,” he added hurriedly, “but my marines are used to him being in charge. I’m afraid they’ll look to him every time I give an order.”
Cord looked slightly puzzled, but I understood completely. A CO has to be able to expect instant obedience, especially in combat. This is even more important in a guerilla operation, where uniforms aren’t worn and lines of command can become blurred. If Wil weren’t the senior officer present, it would seriously impair his effectiveness. The trouble was, I could see that Cord didn’t understand the situation.
“You say that the Colonel has no problem with being under your command?” I asked.
“None, sir. That’s not the problem.”
“I understand, Sneaker One,” I replied. “Stand by. We’ll be back with you in a moment. Snooper, disconnect.”
“Yes, sir,” Kaleen replied crisply. “You’re disconnected.” It sounded as though Wil was having an effect on Kaleen.
I turned to Cord. “I can see you don’t understand the seriousness of the problem down there, Viceroy.”
He shrugged. “You’re quite right, Admiral. If we’ve placed Tor in charge, it shouldn’t matter who shows up.”
“In anything but a combat situation, you’re correct, sir. However, in combat, lives depend upon total and instant obedience. You can’t have the troops looking around for the Colonel every time Wil gives them an order. This situation can’t continue. People will die.”
Cord shrugged again. “Very well, let’s promote Tor to full colonel. That should solve the problem, shouldn’t it?”
I was taken a bit aback. Despite my own lightning promotions, I still tended to think in Fleet terms, where majors were not simply booted up to bird colonel. That progression can take up to ten years in the Fleet. I guess I still didn’t understand the power of an imperial viceroy that Cord wielded so casually.
I nodded. “Yes, sir, that should do it, if we can make the promotion public to Wil’s people. How about this: we set up a small promotion ceremony via radio, and have as many of Wil’s people as possible tune in?”
Cord nodded. “I wish all our problems could be solved so easily.”
Wil’s call had stopped our argument. We scheduled the promotion ceremony for that evening, Haven time, which made it the middle of the night on Bolt Hole. By the time all the arrangements were finally complete our quarrel had faded.
However, the underlying reason for the quarrel didn’t go away. Cord wanted immediate action, and I preferred to move more slowly, with better planning and preparation.
I didn’t really disagree that we should attack Relentless. I just felt certain that Jonas would recall her, and I didn’t want to waste a lot of planning on an attack that would most likely never occur.
I kept waiting, but when a week had passed and Relentless showed no signs of leaving Gamma, I began to hope. Could even Jonas be so stupid as to leave a cruiser so exposed?
Evidently, he could. When another week passed and the cruiser was still orbiting Gamma, we began planning.
Captain Vidsen of Fearless was invaluable in planning the attack on Relentless. He’d known her CO, Captain Bon-Lor, on Thaeron.
“He’s one of those that always end up being on the winning side,” Vidsen said with a grimace of distaste. “In any discussion, he could be depended upon to keep his mouth shut until it became obvious which side would win, then jump in loudly with both feet. I don’t think the man had an honest opinion in his life.”
“Well,” I replied. “He’s made a choice this time.”
Vidsen shrugged. “I doubt it. I suspect that he was swept along by circumstance. Relentless was orbiting just ahead of Nemesis when you visited Thaeron. Even if he’d believed you, saying so would have risked getting him and his ship vaporized.”
“Are you saying that he may be looking for a way to switch sides?”
“No,” he replied coldly. “Bon-Lor may be a pragmatist, but he’s no coward. Once he’s committed, he won’t turn his coat. But,” he continued, “He may accept an honorable way out of his situation. He can’t be very thrilled with Jonas for sending him off to Gamma without support. He has to know how far his neck is stretched out.” He shrugged. “I’d suggest launching a genuine attack, but offering him an opportunity to surrender honorably. If it was put to him as a way to save his crew’s lives, I wouldn’t be surprised if he took the chance.”
The boats that had been so effective against the destroyers would be less so against a more heavily armored battle cruiser. We’d need bigger guns; in other words, we had to attack in force, especially if we were to give Bon-Lor a chance to surrender.
That meant Valkyrie, Predator, and more than twenty armed tramps, carrying over a hundred and fifty armed boats.
The most serious disagreements revolved around Predator. I wanted to hold her out of the fight, save her for the attack on Nemesis. Judging by the anguished howls, you’d have thought I was advocating destroying her myself.
“ Predator is the only battle-ready true warship we have,” I argued, “We’re going to need her desperately against Nemesis!”
“We need her desperately against Relentless, Admiral,” Bendo protested. “For the psychological advantage, if nothing else. When Captain Bon-Lor sees a rabble of converted tramps closing on him, that's one thing. But, if they’re accompanied by a destroyer, that's quite another.”
“He’s right, Admiral,” Vidsen put in. “In fact, I think you should take Fearless, too. Yes,” he continued as I started to interrupt, “I know that having a tramp welded to my hull doesn’t improve my fighting trim, but all Bon-Lor will see is another cruiser coming at him. When he sees a fleet that large closing on him, he’ll believe that his position is untenable. As I said, he likes to be on the winning side. I’d almost bet that he’d surrender to a force like that with only a token battle.”
In the event, we all went. Both Valkyrie and Fearless took aboard a load of armed boats.
Relentless was on station in orbit above Gamma when we emerged.
Bon-Lor’s crew was on their toes. They detected us within an hour, and Relentless broke orbit, driving toward us to gain fighting room.
I hailed Relentless, and called upon Bon-Lor to surrender to an obviously superior force.
Bon-Lor was a thin, aristocratic-looking man, but a certain carelessness had crept into his appearance, accompanied by the florid features of a man who drinks too much. “To Sheol with you!” he growled.
“Captain,” I persisted, “I am a Vice Admiral of the Fleet, as you know. By now, you’ve seen the tapes of the Emperor’s visit. You have to know that you’ve chosen the wrong side. Jonas has used you, and used you poorly. What Admiral would put you out here without support? What Admiral would keep you here after losing two destroyers to my forces?”
My tone hardened. “You're not under Nemesis ’ guns now,” I said, “If you persist in making Fleet people fight each other, it will be on your own head. If you survive, I’ll have you hanged!”
That last comment had hit hard. Despite everything, Bon-Lor was a Fleet Captain. The idea of Fleet fighting Fleet upset him as badly as it did me. I could also tell by his eyes that my comment about being under Nemesis ’ guns had reached its mark, giving him a possible defense for his actions.
Still, he temporized as we approached each other. I felt he wanted to surrender, but the idea of surrendering without firing a shot outraged his sense of honor.
Cutting transmissions to him, I flipped on our secure general push. “Flag to all boats. Relentless ’ captain is reluctant to surrender. I want all boats to drive ahead of the flotilla. When you get within range of Relentless, show him what our boats can do. You are cleared to fire on Relentless; I repeat, you are cleared to fire on the battle cruiser. But mostly, I want her CO to see a hundred and fifty boats dance. Try to keep those Fleet gunners from locking onto you. I want to show him that his Fleet weapons can’t keep up with the rim’s boat Fleet.”
Some idiot broke radio discipline with a cheer, and suddenly the frequency was overwhelmed with noise. Boats began pouring from Valkyrie, Fearless, and all the tramps. Even Predator was spewing black dots. There was no semblance of formation; the boat pilots weren’t that disciplined. Nevertheless, I knew what Bon-Lor was seeing on his viewer: a cloud of glowing dots closing head on at amazing speed.
It took slightly less than two hours for the boats to close the shrinking distance to the oncoming cruiser.
They englobed Relentless, and began swirling, darting and diving, slashing and retreating. It soon became obvious, though, that their weapons could do only minor damage to the Fleet battle cruiser.
Bon-Lor called me. “If that’s the best your rim rabble can do,” he crowed, “maybe you’d better surrender to me!”
I shrugged. “Don’t be ridiculous, Captain. Of course, the boats are lightly armed. They can’t do more than sting you — but enough stings can be as fatal as a bullet. And you don’t seem to be exactly wiping them out.”
He flushed. “Whatever those… things are, we’ll get them eventually.”
I shook my head. “No, Captain, you won’t. Within two hours, you’ll be busy with a battle cruiser, a destroyer, and more than twenty armed tramps.”
He looked triumphant. “Pah! Fearless was damaged at Thaeron. You may have limped her here, but I’m not worried about her. And I have nothing to fear from a destroyer. As for those… those ridiculous tramps, I have nothing to fear from anything your rim rabble can cook up.”
I shook my head. “You’re whistling in the dark, Captain, and you have a very painful lesson coming about the capabilities of rim rabble. I just hope that the lesson won’t cost too many of your people’s lives. I’ll leave this channel open in case you change your mind.”
Both Relentless and our flotilla were slowing to battle speed, to avoid having to maneuver for hours to return to contact.
I keyed my microphone. “Flag to all tramps. Prepare to engage by flights. You are cleared to attack.”
The armed tramps were organized in flights of four ships each. Though some shifting had occurred due to personality differences, most of the flights had been training together since their ships were armed. The tramps broke from their loose formation around us and began driving toward Relentless. It would be another half-hour before Fearless, Predator and Valkyrie could engage.
We never got the chance. The tramps drove in, reversed course, and began raking Relentless with their quick-firing guns. Almost immediately, Relentless ’ shields were overloaded, and collapsium-plated projectiles began penetrating her hull. Her lasers and particle beams replied, of course, but the empire battle comps weren’t up to the job of locking onto the darting, swirling tramps and boats.
In less than five minutes, Relentless surrendered. It wasn’t Bon-Lor that surrendered her, though. A projectile from one of the rim tramps had removed his head. His executive officer surrendered immediately.
As with all battles, the aftermath took more time and effort than the battle itself. Casualties on both sides had to be found, treated, and identified. Drifting debris had to be run down and checked for bodies. Bodies and body parts had to be identified and stored.
Most urgently, we also had to find a way to deal with over three thousand prisoners, and we had to do it before they got any ideas. I called Captain Vidsen on ship-to-ship. “How quickly could you remove critical components from your weapons systems, and route all ship controls to your rim tramp?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Less than two hours, I’d guess. My Engineer could give a better estimate.” The Engineer was cut in on three-way and agreed that the weapons could be disabled and the bridge functions rerouted to the rim tramp attached to Fearless ’ hull in relatively short order.
I nodded. "Very well, here’s what I’m planning. We have more than three thousand prisoners. There's no way that we can guard that many without trouble. I suggest that we simply swap ships. Fearless ’ crew will disable her weaponry, re-route all bridge functions, and weld and alarm the bridge hatch. They will then move to Relentless, and Relentless ’ crew will be shipped over to Fearless. The tramp will control her operation, and can carry a load of boats to help with security.”
Vidsen frowned. “It’s far from foolproof, sir.”
I nodded. “I know. However, I suspect it’s the best we’ll be able to do, at least until we get to Bolt Hole. They’re Fleet, and they’ve surrendered, so we can at least hope that they’ll behave honorably. I'll talk to their officers before the transfer.”
Vidsen sighed. “I confess I’d like to have a ship that can fly herself and doesn’t need a hitchiker,” he admitted. “I also don’t see any better options. I guess we’d just better be lucky.”
Vidsen and his engineer began preparing Fearless and her crew for the switch. I went over to Relentless to meet with the ship’s officers.
“Ten-shun!” The officers crowding the wardroom jumped to attention. At least they were granting me the customary military courtesies, a very good sign. “At ease, gentlemen,” I said. I closed the hatch behind me as I entered, making the point that I was unaccompanied by bodyguards.
An elderly Commander approached and saluted smartly. “Commander Rigslan, Admiral, in command of Relentless.” I regarded him sympathetically. At his age, he’d obviously been sent to the rim sector to wait retirement. Instead, he now faced court-martial for mutiny and treason. I returned his salute, and then turned to the others. “Be seated, ladies, gentlemen. I’ve come here for some frank talk. You’ve noticed that I have come alone. Anything said during this meeting will be off the record.
“I asked if Relentless ’ officers or crew had seen the tapes of the Emperor’s visit to Haven. I was assured you had not, that Captain Bon-Lor thought it would be prejudicial to good order and discipline.”
A buzz had broken out at my mention of the emperor's visit. Voices began asking if the Emperor himself had really visited. The babble threatened to become a roar. I held up my hand for silence, and the babble subsided to a quiet mutter, then silence.
“Yes,” I continued. “The Emperor himself visited Haven. Because of Admiral Jonas and you, he was forced to virtually sneak into a sector of his own Empire. Before we continue, I want to play the tape for you. I ask that you watch carefully for evidence of tampering. You won’t find any. By the way,” I added, “this tape is also being shown to the entire crew.”
The room darkened, and the tape began running. It was uncut, from the welcoming ceremonies to Cord’s address to the people of the rim.
When the tape ended and the lights came up, there was dead silence in the wardroom. Every man and woman there had no doubt they’d been on the wrong side.
“Well, So what?” a voice rose from the back of the room in a sullen tone. “They were going to abandon us out here! We had a right to try to make them send us home!”
I shook my head. “I’ll tell you what the Viceroy told Captain Bendo of Predator when he asked for guarantees of repatriation. He told Captain Bendo that he would give those guarantees easily, but that he was ashamed of Captain Bendo for asking. The Viceroy was outraged that Fleet personnel could believe that he or the Emperor would violate the Round Trip Ticket, and that Admiral Chu-Lo would permit it if they did. His exact words were, ‘The entire fleet would rebel first.’ Is there anyone here who doubts that is true?”
Silence. After a moment, I nodded and continued. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, make no mistake. You and the rest of the crew are all prisoners. Some of you will be charged with serious crimes. I will be quite honest with you. I don’t have enough people to effectively guard more than three thousand people. I will take what precautions I can, but for the most part, I rely on your honor as fleet officers to control your people, and to honor your surrender. I assure you that your actions now will have much to do with your fates later.”
“I am asking for your personal parole,” I resumed. “I’m asking each and every one of you to give me your word as an officer and gentlebeing to make no attempt to escape, and to control your hotheads to keep them from doing anything stupid. Is there anyone here who feels that he or she cannot extend that parole?”
A tight group of three men and two women stood. The senior was a Lieutenant Commander. “You were lying on Thaeron and you’re lying now!” he proclaimed. “These others may turn coat, but we will not betray our Admiral!”
There was much groaning and rolling of eyes. Evidently, these were not the most popular officers aboard. I turned to Rigslan. “Captain,” I asked politely, “Do you think that you could find a few volunteers to escort these officers to the brig?”
“Of course, sir,” Rigslan replied. He turned to the group, and over twenty hands went up even before he asked for the volunteers. He selected ten, and for several minutes confusion reigned in the crowded room as the five were hustled out. Order slowly returned.
I yawned. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s been a rather long day for me, with the battle and all.” Chuckles rumbled through the group. “Let me see. It’s the middle of the night for me; but it’s… late morning for you?” I looked to Rigslan for confirmation and he nodded. “All right,” I continued. “We’ve been here a long time. That tape was over two hours long, and I talked for… well, too long.” The chuckles turned to laughs. “Knowing how long that tape runs, I made arrangements for food to be prepared and served. I suggest we adjourn this meeting for, say, an hour. In addition to food, this will give you a chance to absorb and discuss what you’ve seen and heard here.” I opened the door and signaled the servers waiting outside. A benign chaos ensued as the senior officers fought their way out of the wardroom and headed for the senior officer’s mess and the junior officers began jockeying for seats.
Captain Rigslan approached, rescuing me from officers besieging me with questions. “Perhaps you’d care to join me in Cap… uh, my cabin, Admiral?” He looked embarrassed and old.
“I’d be delighted, Captain,” I replied.