It was a relief to escape Haven’s freezing temperatures and get back aboard the Old Bitch. Unfortunately, it had been a long time since I’d computed a ballistic. By the time we got into space, Rawl was openly admiring my command of invective.
“Okay,” I began, “Now, it’ll take Hari half an hour or so to get Con roused and sobered up, and we're a couple of days from our jump point, so why don't you give me a quick overview of what's going on? It'll take more than a week to make the three jumps to Outback, so we'll have plenty of time later for a formal briefing.”
Rawl shrugged. “We've known of Jonas’ plans for about six weeks now. The Viceroy has been on sub-space with every planetary head of state in the sector. All but six have agreed to support the Viceroy. Three of the six are those where the peoples’ only concern is survival. The others are taking a ‘wait and watch’ position. When this is over, they're liable to regret that decision.
“Jonas is being very cautious, for him,” Rawl continued. “We don’t believe he’s aware that the Viceroy knows about his treachery. We can't be sure of his plans, of course, but we think he expects the Viceroy to invite him to Haven for the ceremony, and plans to bring his dreadnought and enough other forces to seize the Viceroy and the planet. We’ve been very careful not to make him suspicious. Routine messages are still flying both ways, with both of us pretending nothing is wrong.”
“When is the announcement supposed to take place? How long have we got?” I asked.
Rawl shrugged again. “The Viceroy estimates that we can't wait more than six to ten months. If we don't announce it within that time, the Emperor will probably do it himself.”
I frowned. “That's not much time to put together enough force to fight a dreadnought and three battle cruisers. Exactly what force does he have, anyway?”
“He has complete control of the Thaeron system, of course,” Rawl replied. “But except for the supply base on the planet itself and the orbiting repair docks, everything there is defensive. The fortified moons, the satellites, the minefields are all useless for attack. The only things that really matter are his ships. Well, those and his Marines.”
“All right,” I said, “Can you run down the ships for me?”
Rawl nodded. “To begin with, he has Nemesis, the dreadnought.” He shuddered. “I’ve seen Nemesis. She alone could be enough to take the sector. He also has three battle cruisers, Fearless, Dauntless, and Relentless, and five destroyers: Eagle, Gyrfalcon, Harpy, Predator, and Raptor. He had a corvette as well, but Fleet HQ recalled it for pirate interdiction or something.”
“Come to think of it,” he added, “He is a bit short of auxiliaries. As far as we know, he just has one transport for the Marines, and one fleet courier.”
I’d been listening carefully. A kilometer in diameter and bristling with lasers, particle beams and missiles, Nemesis carried fifty Strengl in-system fighters, an equal number of Wasp long-range fighters, and even five planet-busters. I shook my head and sighed. I was never a big fan of dreadnoughts. They’re dinosaurs, useless against modern tactics. But here, all Jonas needed to do was to set it to orbiting Haven, and make us come to him. There would be little opportunity for fancy maneuvers; it would just be a matter of standing toe to toe and slugging it out. In a slugging match, nothing in the universe could match a dreadnought.
The three battle cruisers were only about half the size of Nemesis but much faster and more modern, and almost as well armed. Battle cruisers were the backbone of the Fleet. Three of them should be able to overcome an entire fleet.
Of course, the destroyers were the Fleet's workhorses. Fast, agile and well armed for their size. One destroyer is usually enough to pacify a planet; Jonas had five.
With that battle group, Jonas should have little trouble overcoming a virtually unarmed sector. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to fight back. Oh, maybe we could cobble together some converted tramps or something, but certainly nothing that could seriously oppose Jonas’ force. I sighed. This was going to take a miracle.
I grimaced. “Time is the critical factor,” I said. “It’s going to take awhile to even work up designs for something to fight with. Of course, that's assuming we can even build anything we design.”
He nodded. “The Viceroy is well aware of that. That’s why he's sending you to Outback. Outback and the rest of the outer worlds are our secret weapons.”
“Humph. Nothing very secret about planets.”
Rawl shrugged. “Oh, everyone knows they’re there, Commodore. What's not generally known is their unique situation. The Outer Worlds consist of five systems, including Outback, on the edge of explored space. Any of them can be reached from any other in one jump. Because of their relative proximity, the five systems have formed a very close relationship. Though they remain independent, they tend to trade among themselves, and specialize. One is a farm world, two are mining planets, Outback is the manufacturing center, and the last, Gamma, is the administrative and trading center of the group. The other four systems all have representatives on Gamma, and though they don't have a formal treaty or anything, they all tend to work together.”
He paused. “They form an economic and political powerhouse within the sector. The Viceroy refers to them as the engine of the sector. The only world more prosperous has been Haven, and that's sure to change with the Empire gone.”
“The point is that the outer worlds are firmly behind the Viceroy. They’ve benefited enormously from his policies, and are well aware that they are becoming a huge power in the sector. Jonas, on the other hand, hasn’t even bothered to learn of their importance. He simply isn’t interested in what he calls ‘primitive dustballs’. His intelligence people know better, of course, but there’s some evidence that their reports are largely being disregarded by the Admiral.”
I chuckled. “That's Jonas, all right. Anything more than three jumps from Prime is barbarian country, and couldn't possibly matter.”
Rawl nodded. “I'd heard you know him. But why would a man like that want to take over the sector?”
I shrugged. “Probably because he realizes that he’s effectively been banished to the ‘outer reaches’ for life. He resents it, and plans to show the Emperor how good he is. I suspect that if he succeeds, he’ll try to claim that Cord was planning to rebel and he, Jonas, single-handedly prevented a rebellion and saved the sector for the Empire.” I shrugged again. “I imagine he thinks the Emperor will reward him by calling him back to Prime for a promotion and maybe a Duchy. It would never occur to him that the Emperor was trying to give the sector away.”
Rawl nodded again. “You may be right.” He grinned suddenly. “I’d love to see his face if he succeeded and tried to return the sector to the Emperor.” The grin faded as quickly as it had come. “You know, of course, that the fact of the Empire’s release of the sector is highly classified. You won’t be able to mention it to your crew.”
“I know. I make it a policy never to lie to my men, military or civilian. I’ll simply tell the truth, if not the whole truth. That Jonas is plotting to take over the sector, that Hari and I are being drafted by the Viceroy to put down the coup and Valkyrie is being converted to a Command and Control ship. All true.” I hesitated. “There are always things the troops can't be told; but that doesn't justify lying to them.”
When I called the shareholders meeting in Valkyrie 's mess deck, I made no speeches, no recruiting pitches. I simply told them, and offered them the choice. They could: (a) join up with Hari and me, (b) accept internment (in this case, simply temporary discharge from Valkyrie and an allowance to stay on Outback), or (c) sell back their shares for a premium price and a ticket on an inbound liner.
No one interrupted as I explained the situation, and the silence continued for minutes after I finished. Jax was flushed with excitement.
Jax had joined us on Pascua, his home world. Our Comm Officer came down with Reiber’s Fever, and we’d had to buy him out. The port officials on Pascua wouldn’t let us lift without a Comm Officer, and the Trader's Guild office had no one to send us. We’d been sitting on the port apron for more than a week when Jax showed up.
He’d hitchhiked almost a thousand kilometers to try to join us. Hari was on duty at the time, and by the time I arrived Hari was his biggest fan. The three thousand Pascuan piastres his father had given him weren’t enough for a full share, but they were his father’s life savings. At Hari’s urging, we came up with a complicated deal that let Jax buy some cargo and deadhead to our next port of call where, hopefully, the profit from his 3,000 piastres would be enough to purchase a share. Owing to some creative bookkeeping by Hari, it was, and Jax was inordinately proud of being a full partner. Just now, he was caught up in romantic visions. Fighting always seems romantic to the young — until they've experienced it.
“So, It wasn't smuggling, huh, Capt… uh Commodore? That was just in case of spies, right?” Jax was squirming with excitement.
“That’s right, Jax.” I replied wearily. In the face of Jax’s excited expression, I felt ancient and jaded. I had no doubt how Jax would vote. This was the kind of adventure he'd dreamed about while feeding the animals on Pascua. Con, though…
Con Wiler was a gifted Astrogator. He was also the shallowest human I’d ever encountered. He was tall, slim, and classically handsome. Not today, though. Today, his handsome features were puffy and red. His usually impeccable uniform was creased and rumpled, and his hair was likewise rumpled. He was obviously suffering from a combination of hangover and the effects of sober-ups.
“It's not fair!” Con whined. “We didn’t join up with Cord. Why should he want to take Valkyrie? You aren't gonna let ‘im, are you, Captain?”
“You weren’t listening, Con,” I replied with as much patience as I could muster. “Cord would have seized Valkyrie anyway. She's the biggest ship on the rim that doesn’t already belong to Jonas. Cord’s going to outfit her as a C amp;C ship for me. I’m the Commodore whose flag she’ll fly, and Hari may even command her. Now, you have to make a choice.”
I spelled out the options again, and then stepped back. “All right. You have until we reach Outback to decide what you want to do, and let me know.”
The trip to Outback was uneventful. Jax, of course, wasted no time letting me know that he wanted to join up. He was flushed and excited. He was having great difficulty restraining his enthusiasm, and badgered Hari and me endlessly.
Con was a different case altogether. Aside from the times that he’d come up to the bridge to set up the jumps, he stayed in his cabin with the door closed, engrossed in his collection of porn vids. He ate in a corner of the mess deck, and replied to any conversational attempts with glares and grunted monosyllables.
I wasn't greatly surprised, therefore, when he showed up at my cabin door the day before we emerged into Outback’s system.
“It's not fair, Captain,” he whined. “This isn’t our fight. Cord has no right to ask…”
I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “Cord is an Imperial Viceroy. He can do just about whatever he pleases. And Hari and I feel that what he’s doing is right.” I shrugged irritably. I'd promised myself I'd remain neutral, and not press my feelings onto the crew. But Con's manner was so abrasive… “I guess you’re here to let me know your decision.”
He nodded, glowering. “I didn't sign on to die in somebody else’s war. I’ll sell him my share, but I’m going to make sure I get every centisol it's worth!”
I sighed. “You will, Con. I’ll go over the books with you and we’ll calculate the value of your share together. I’ll see to it that you get full value — and then some. Cord promised to pay premium prices for any shares sold out, and I’ll hold him to it.”
Con’s expression turned suspicious. “What about the inbound ticket? You said he’d buy us a ticket back to the inner worlds.”
I nodded. “He will. I knew that the only ships out here were rim tramps, and anyone that sold out would want to get back to where the Guild can find them a berth on a larger ship, so I got his promise in writing. Within a day of our arrival on Outback, you’ll be on your way back to Haven, with a ticket for Galeta.”
He nodded and rose to leave. At the door, he hesitated. When he turned back, his expression was puzzled. “Why, Captain? Why would you and the others want to get involved in this insanity?”
I reminded myself that Con didn’t know about the fall of the Empire, and that I couldn’t tell him. I thought for a moment. “I know Admiral Jonas, and I’d prefer almost anyone else to be in charge of this sector. Hari, well, I guess he’s just going along with me. Jax, of course, thinks it'll be a great adventure.”
Con snorted. “Adventure. A fancy word for something bad happening to someone else. But you, Captain! Most Sector Viceroys are no better than Jonas is. What makes this one worth joining?”
I shrugged. “Maybe it's the fact that Cord isn’t like those others. Maybe I think if I can help put a competent leader in place in one sector, it may encourage the Emperor to try it in other sectors.”
He shook his head. “I don't see it, Captain. Everyone knows the Emperor doesn’t want competent Viceroys; they might rebel. Moreover, if he is competent, chances are the Emperor will dream up a reason to execute him. He also usually executes those close to them. Be careful, Captain.”
After he left, I realized he might have a point. If Cord and Hari were right, and the Emperors actively discouraged progress, our current one would probably not tolerate competent leadership in an independent Rim Sector.
Hari just shrugged when I mentioned my concern to him. “What if the Emperor is Cord’s co-conspirator?”
“ WHAT?” I was astounded.
He shrugged again. “The evidence seems to indicate it.” He ticked off on his fingers. “One, Cord claims to have discovered the facts about the fall of the Empire while a student in the palace. Surely, a student making such a discovery would tell his best and only friend. Two, Cord claims to have formulated his plans with the help of the palace computers. I seriously doubt such a project could be undertaken in the palace without the Emperor, or the Prince, noticing. Three, Con is correct. The Emperor is usually very careful to appoint sycophants and incompetents as Viceroys, to minimize the risk of rebellion. Cord is neither, and the Emperor has to know it. Four, the idea of the Emperor voluntarily releasing a sector, no matter how unprofitable, is patently absurd — unless the Emperor has an ulterior motive. I suspect Eron and Cord planned this together.”
I thought for a moment. “It’s hard to believe the Emperor is involved in planning that deals with the end of the Empire itself.”
Hari hesitated. “It is hard to believe. However, by all accounts Eron is someone special, even for an Emperor. He is reputed to be highly intelligent and imaginative, as well as tough and ruthless. Obviously, his ruthlessness extends to the Empire itself. He believes the Empire is falling, and as a conscientious ruler, he’s making an effort to ensure that civilization survives.”
I was confused. “Then why doesn’t he just recall Jonas to the inner worlds, and have him quietly killed?”
Hari shrugged. “Perhaps to test his co-conspirator. If Cord can’t handle the first hurdle in his path, he’s unlikely to be the one to build the foundation for the preservation of mankind.”
I shuddered. “Sorry. That’s just a bit cold-blooded for me. Thousands, perhaps millions may die in this dustup. To consider it just a leadership test…”
“How many will die in the collapse of the Empire? Don't forget, Emperors are trained to consider humanity in the mass, not the individual.” Hari shrugged. “Suffice it to say that whether or not we’re correct, the Emperor will not intervene on Cord’s behalf — or on Jonas’, for that matter. If Jonas wins, I suspect the Emperor will simply begin looking for a replacement for Cord. I doubt he’ll find it easy to find one as gifted and as trustworthy.”
Landfall was uneventful, except that we grounded at one of Outback’s six shipyards, rather than the commercial port. Before the ground cooled, a fleet of vehicles converged on Valkyrie. Even while I was being shown the modification plans by the yard’s manager, workers were swarming over and into the old bitch.
Outback is almost the diametric opposite of Haven. It’s a warm, humid world, with huge seas sprinkled with continent-sized islands. I breathed a huge, contented sigh as I walked down Valkyrie 's ramp.
I never got a chance to say goodbye to Con. I didn’t particularly like him, but he was part of my crew. But Rawl had made all the arrangements before we grounded. Among the first of the people who crowded aboard was a viceregal representative with Con’s inbound ticket and a voucher for 110 % of the share value that Con and I had calculated. Con had packed most of his gear before we grounded, and by the time I’d fought my way free of the people demanding my attention, Con was gone.
I had little time for regrets. Rawl had briefed me in space on the status of Viceregal Intelligence (impressive) and ground-based resistance (nonexistent). As soon as I could escape the shipyard, I headed my chauffeur-driven aircar to the commercial port to talk with Captain Cony, the tramp skipper I’d met briefly on Haven.
“I’ll tell ‘ee, Commodore," the little man began, "Ye’ve the entire tradin’ fleet behind ‘ee. Lardass Jonas don’ like us, ‘n we don’ like ‘im!”
The ‘entire tradin’ fleet’ turned out to be forty unarmed rim tramps of various ages and designs. None was designed to be armed except Valkyrie, and she was currently being rearmed. As soon as we'd grounded, Hari had gone into a huddle with engineers from the shipyard to try to design weaponry to install in this motley assortment of tramps.
What the traders did give me was a spaceborne intelligence capability and secure intersystem communications. Three of the traders had voluntarily admitted to being agents of Military Intelligence, and they had identified two others. The two that hadn’t come forward would have to be isolated, but the others could prove useful for passing disinformation. Traders are inveterate gossips, and Captain Cony proved no exception. I got Cord to charter Cony’s ship for use as my flagship until Valkyrie ’s conversion to Command and Control vessel was finished. Cony temporarily became my Flag Captain, coordinating the flow of information to and from my fleet. His first job was to organize the traders into a secure communications pipeline for my ground-based intelligence efforts. The tramp skippers could carry coded messages by hand, making Military Intelligence’s broadcast surveillance useless.
Things were moving fast, and the days were a blur of crises. Rawl and Cony were distrustful of each other. Rawl considered Cony a shady and undisciplined possible smuggler, and Cony considered Rawl a spy who would use anything he learned against the traders when this was over. To some extent, I could use their mutual enmity for our benefit, but walking the fine line between them was wearing. Both of them proved their value almost immediately, though.
Rawl brought me a chubby, cheerful-looking man in a rumpled Fleet Commander's uniform two sizes too small. He turned out to be a retired Commander, and an absolute genius at handling paperwork. He had an unerring judgment regarding what to refer to me and what should simply be affixed with my forged signature. He could sign my name better than I could.
Rawl also assumed responsibility for our counterespionage efforts. The viceroy’s computers had access to all Fleet files, of course, including the personnel files of all Military Intelligence personnel assigned to the rim sector. Rawl took charge of security for the shipyard, and within a week had more than a dozen MI Agents in custody.
Cony's major contribution early on was running interference with the tramp captains for me. They’d appointed a committee to deal with Cord’s representative, me, and were proceeding to try to negotiate their participation as though it were a trade contract. As a trader myself, I could understand their viewpoint. I couldn't tolerate it, of course, but I understood it.
Until we could design and build weapons modifications, though, there was little but the occasional intelligence operation to occupy over thirty ships and crews. Cony got their committee to discussing every possible facet of their involvement, and was happily wrangling with them for hours at a time while leaving me free to deal with other problems. Like finding an Astrogator for Valkyrie, and a permanent Flag Captain.
I called the Spacer Guild office on Outback, but it predictably turned out to be a one-person operation. The Guild representative recognized me immediately. He’d already been briefed on my need for an Astrogator rated for DIN-class freighters. “As you can imagine, Commodore, There are few out here with ratings for that type equipment. There is none on Outback at the moment, of course, but I’ve spread the word to every planet in the sector. Hopefully, we’ll come up with someone in a few weeks.”
I groaned, but it was no worse than I’d expected. I mentioned to him that anyone who signed on would be volunteering for a fight, and that I’d consider signing someone on temporarily on a salaried basis, if necessary. He agreed to send the supplementary information to all the Guild offices in the sector.
My quest for a permanent Flag Captain was another problem. Captains qualified to command ships as large as Valkyrie were rare on the rim, and of those we located, there were none I’d trust with the old bitch. Complicating the search was the fact that my Flag Captain would also have to be qualified to double as my deputy.
I was discussing our lack of success with Cony when he mentioned what could be the answer to the problem.
“Weel, Commodore, They is this gloot owns a ship's chandlery and big bar on Thaeron. I heerd he war a destroyer skipper afore he ‘tired outen the Fleet. Heerd he gottim an Empire Star.” His face screwed up in concentration. “Got onea them ladeedah innerworld names with a hyphen. Ran… Van…” He snapped his fingers. “Got it! Tan-Li! Oh, sorry, Tan dash Li, ladeedah. Li with a ‘I’”
I jerked to attention. “Tan-Li? Sharlo Tan-Li?”
Cony frowned. “Cud be. Yeah, m’thinkin’ that's it. Y’know 'im?”
I nodded. “Very well. He was one of the best combat skippers in the Fleet. He’s the reason I survived Haskins’ World. It must be him! There can’t be that many Empire Star winners on the rim.”
“Weel, now he’s got thet bar ‘n chandlery at the commercial port just outside the base. Mightn't be smart t’try to visit ‘im right now.”
We decided that I would record a message crystal and Cony would see that it was delivered to Sharlo Tan-Li on Thaeron.
I turned on the recorder. I was in full Commodore’s uniform less hat, but I was sure he’d recognize me. “Hello, Shar. It’s been a long time. If you own a bar on Thaeron, I’m sure you know what's going on. ‘God’ Jonas thinks he can take over the rim. As you can see, I’ve been appointed by the Viceroy to stop him.” I grinned. “Who’d believe I’d finally get my star because of Jonas!” I let the grin fade and turned serious again. “I need you, Shar. I need a Flag Captain. None of these rimworlders can handle a DIN-class, and none of them have ever seen combat.
“I know you’re retired, and I know why. Sheol, it was the same reason I left. But I need you, Shar. By the way, I haven’t had a nightmare since I signed on with Cord. I believe in him, Shar. He’s good for the rim. I hear Jonas is telling the troops that the Emperor has abandoned them. It’s not true, Shar. I've seen a message from the Emperor himself guaranteeing repatriation, even if the rim is abandoned, and I have Cord’s word. I believe him. Besides, think how good it would feel to help me slap ‘God’ Jonas down! I hope you'll join me.”
I couldn't say more. The crystal could fall into Jonas' hands. Sheol, if he didn't believe me, Shar might turn it in himself! I turned the crystal over to Cony to be smuggled to Thaeron.
A month after we grounded, I was up to my elbows in paper when my office door opened and a skinny, nearly bald head thrust through. “The enemy's attacking, Commodore. Gird your loins or something!”
“Hari!” I yelled, delighted. “Tell me you’ve figured out how to make warships out of these rim tramps! They’re all we’ve got, you know.”
He grinned back. “Maybe I have,” he replied, “And you’re wrong about them being all you’ve got!” Then, incredibly, the head withdrew and the door slammed.
I jumped to my feet, cursing. “Hari! You bastard! Get back here!” I yelled as I scrambled for the door. I yanked it open just in time to see Hari’s cadaverous body disappearing around the corner at the end of the corridor. Cursing non-stop I lurched into pursuit. I caught up to him just outside the entrance to the building.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I yelled.
Hari just grinned. “Getting you out of that damned office,” he replied calmly. “And I’ve won ten credits doing it. I bet Jax I could get you to come out before dark.” Jax had been serving as my aide since our arrival.
I swelled up with indignation. Then the ridiculous image of me pounding down the hall cursing in pursuit of Hari made me dissolve into uncontrollable laughter. When I finally regained some composure, I said, “OK, Hari. But I think I ought to get half of those ten credits.”
The skull-like head shook. “Not a chance. I’m the one who took a chance on your temper.”
We laughed again. “Did you mean what you said? Have you figured out how to use the rim tramps? Come in and tell me about it.”
He shook his head again. “Nope. The other half of the bet was that I have to keep you out of the office all afternoon. If you want to find out what you have to fight with, you’ll have to come out to the shipyard with me. We’ve got a little demonstration set up for you.”
I started to protest about the pile of work on my desk when I realized that nothing on my desk, sheol, nothing on the planet was as important as Hari’s weapons research. I shrugged in defeat. “All right, Hari, let’s go see what kind of toys you've come up with.”