Democracy's Light

Chapter Twenty-Five

Carola looked at the pair of armed Marines escorting her and smiled.

She’d expected them ever since the destroyer had flickered into the Solar System, transmitted a brief encrypted message towards the Victorious — and her, of course — and flickered out again before any starship at Earth could intercept her. The message hadn’t been unexpected, of course, merely a report that the Imperial Navy — or whatever the Provisional Government ended up renaming the former Imperial Navy — had engaged Cottbus’s forces… and had been defeated. The alternative, that Admiral Wilhelm had been defeated, had worried her, but the gamble had paid off. Cottbus could now take the initiative and advance on Earth.

The Marines had arrived four hours later, which meant that someone had to have returned from Cottbus to report on the battle to Colin and his allies. Carola was actually quite interested to know what had actually happened — the report hadn’t included any data on losses to either side, although it had implied that the losses had been decisive for the Imperial Navy — but the Marines weren’t talking. They had merely walked into her Embassy and invited her to come with them. She hadn’t bothered to pretend that she had a choice in the matter, although she had been careful to film her departure between the two armour-clad men. If everything worked out as she hoped, it would serve as great propaganda.

Interesting, she thought, as the Marines led her into the Parliament Building. Hundreds of men and women were running around, some of them in a state of panic, much to her private amusement. Cottbus was over a thousand light years away, after all, although she had to admit that Wilhelm could have come directly to Earth in the wake of his victory. She doubted, however, that his forces had escaped unscathed, even with the help of the Nerds. Her husband would have to spend some time regrouping before he could advance.

Perhaps we should have just set out to attack Earth first, she thought, although she knew that that would have been a mistake. They might have managed to break through Earth’s defences — Colin had proven, after all, that they weren’t unbeatable — but they would have still had to reckon with the other rebel formations in the Core Worlds, to say nothing of the first-rank worlds. Luring a force out to Cottbus, where it could be broken, had been the only remaining possibility… and it had worked. The Parliament Building wouldn’t be in such a panic unless the losses had been serious, which meant that there was very little between her husband and Earth.

Her eyes flickered over the interior of the building as she was escorted into a section she didn’t recognise, although she had studied the building’s plans carefully. It looked more faded than the remainder of the building, as if it hadn’t been used for centuries, which was actually quite possible. Parliament hadn’t had a serious role for centuries. No one had been interested, until recently, in actually redecorating the building and it was a tribute to how well the original building had been constructed, back when Parliament might have had a serious role, that it had lasted so long. She already knew who she was going to see and, as the Marines ran her through a series of security checks and gently, but firmly, removed her terminal, she prepared herself.

The door opened, allowing her access to Colin’s office. He was standing in front of a holographic starchart, studying the blinking icons thoughtfully, before blanking it and turning to face her. She took the opportunity to look around his office, noting that it was barren, almost empty, apart from a comfortable chair. It took her a moment to realise that it had probably been pulled out of a starship’s bridge and wondered if it had come from the Lightning, the first starship Colin had captured and used against the Empire. There was no way to know, short of asking Colin, and she wouldn’t lower herself to ask.

“I imagine that you know why you’re here,” Colin said. His voice was curiously flat, something she decided probably concealed anger, or fear. His entire plan to reform and rebuild the Empire had just taken a serious beating. He had to be furious about the disaster, and yet there was little sign of it on his face. “What are you and your husband thinking?”

Uncharted waters, Carola thought, gleefully. Colin had been capable — hell, he’d been more than capable — when it came to fighting the Empire, when everything had been black and white. Now, facing a multi-sided war and knowing that the wrong action could cause more damage in the long run, he had far more difficulty in taking action. It wasn’t an unprecedented situation — human history had been full of them — but it was the first Colin had faced in his entire experience. She doubted that there was anyone alive with the kind of experience Colin needed.

“That we saw our own chance at power and took it,” she said. It felt so good to say it, after spending weeks buttering up the egos of power-seekers on Earth, while trying to mislead Parliament into accepting the Cottbus Sector as an independent state. She hadn’t been brought up to be bluntly honest, in a universe where speaking truth to power could have disastrous consequences, but when she was Empress of the Empire, she would change that. How could anyone survive and prosper when no one dared to tell them when they were making a mistake? “How are we any different from you?”

Colin looked at her, his expression unreadable. “You’re in this for power,” he said, slowly. “I wanted to reshape the Empire itself.”

“The same as us,” Carola said, calmly. “Dare I assume that you have a message you want me to pass on to Markus?”

“There will be no message,” Colin said, flatly. He looked down at her thoughtfully. “I studied the records of the battle carefully. Your husband lured my people into a trap, just as he did with the cruisers, and opened fire. There will be no peace.”

“I didn’t expect that there would be peace,” Carola said, keeping her voice calm. In one respect, it was little different from facing the social kings and queens of the Empire, although she was partly aware that the consequences would be less devastating. Colin, at least, had a sense of honour. He wouldn’t blast someone, or crush him or her socially, just for disagreeing with him. “I shall convoy that message to Markus…”

She stood up. “Sit down,” Colin said, sharply. Carola obeyed, surprised. “Who are your allies?”

Carola lifted an eyebrow. “Allies, sir?”

“I studied the records of the battle carefully,” Colin repeated, almost as if he was forming a case in front of a judge. “Your ships weren’t just brought up to their design specs, but equipped with technologies they shouldn’t have had. Where did they come from?”

Carola shrugged, as if it wasn’t important. “Cottbus was governed by a Clan that wanted to overthrow and replace Cicero as the premier shipbuilding Clan in the Empire,” she said. “They created an entire pool of talent that they intended to use to create new starships. Duplicating the arsenal ships was simple enough; duplicating everything else you showed the Empire took longer, but it was far from impossible.”

She leaned forward. “I should point out that, under the Moscow Accords, you have to return me to Cottbus,” she added. “You can’t keep me as a prisoner.”

Colin snorted. “Did you know that the Victorious attempted to launch missiles down towards the planet?” He asked. “The point defence caught them all, but if they had missed… shipkillers against a planetary surface is two-thirds of a scorching. The Victorious is nothing more than vapour now…and, as for you.”

He stood up in one smooth motion. “I rather feel that the Victorious’s attempt to decapitate the Provisional Government and, just incidentally, kill you as well puts us beyond the provisions of the Accords. You will be held as a prisoner until the war comes to an end, one way or the other.”

Carola stared at him. “The Victorious had no orders to bombard the surface of the planet,” she protested. “It only had orders to withdraw…”

“Perhaps your husband doesn’t want to share his power, or perhaps someone on the ship decided that it was their only chance to hurt the Empire badly enough to make organising resistance tricky,” Colin said. The door opened and a pair of armoured Marines entered. Carola couldn’t tell if they were the same Marines as the ones who had escorted her to Colin’s office. “Take her to the detention centre and hold her there.”

“Yes, sir,” the lead Marine said.

Carola, with icy dignity, stalked out and allowed them to lead her back out of the building, thinking hard. What had really happened in Earth orbit… and why?

“I have had the recordings from the battle carefully analysed,” Grand Admiral Joshua Wachter said, as soon as Colin had called the meeting to order. There might be a time and a place for exchanging meaningless pleasantries, he had decided years ago, but it wasn’t when the Empire was fighting for its life. “There is little doubt, but the Cottbus forces consist of units from four different sectors and include advanced technology that we developed ourselves.”

There was a brief burst of whirring from Salgak’s implants. “It is not impossible that Carola Wilhelm’s clams may be accurate,” the Geek said, as his laser communicator linked into the holographic display and illuminated aspects of the battle. Colin had half-expected the Geek to dispute Joshua’s claim to having invented any technology — he’d been on the other side of the war at the time — but Salgak clearly had a different idea. “The technology they deployed is not actually anything new. It was deployed by us at Second Morrison, Gaul and Earth itself. They had six months to duplicate it and put it into production.”

Joshua nodded. “The only real question is how much of the new weapons they actually have,” he said. “Do we have any data on that issue?”

Kathy shot him an odd glance. “I have been attempting to modify standard Imperial production nodes to produce the new weapons,” she said, flatly. “Once we took over the massive production facilities at Jupiter, Mars and AlphaCent, we were able to streamline them into producing the newer weapons, but production levels remain low, with hundreds of tiny bottlenecks. Indeed, much of our current weapons mix still comes from the facilities established along the Rim, with obvious problems for future deployments.”

Colin scowled. The Empire had had surprisingly large problems with logistics, despite having most of the shipping in the galaxy under its direct or indirect control, and had solved the problem by outsourcing weapons production to the individual sectors. Harmony, Morrison and Yanasaxon, to name, but three, had provided far more missiles than their respective sector fleets had actually required… and the late unlamented Admiral D’Ammassa had turned a profit by selling them to various dubious enterprises. If the Shadow Fleet had used conventional missiles — and it had, until recently — they wouldn’t have any problems arming themselves, but if they used the newer missiles, their logistics took a beating.

“That’s not the problem at the moment,” he said, calmly. It was something that they would have to approach with care. “Admiral Garland has informed us of her intention to defend her base at Hawthorn and then attempt to engage Admiral Wilhelm’s logistics and hamper his advance on Earth. Our problem is simpler. Can we stop them short of Earth itself?”

Tiberius spoke up from his corner of the table. “And should Admiral Garland remain in command?” He added. “She lost two-thirds of a fleet that is effectively irreplaceable before the matter is decided, one way or the other.”

“We do have a new squadron of General-class superdreadnaughts working up now from AlphaCent,” Kathy said, something unreadable in her tone. Colin frowned. She had never gotten on with Tiberius that well, but it was almost as if she was attempting to conceal her own feelings. “Added to Home Fleet, we would still be able to give them a fight if they came to Earth, right?”

“It’s not that simple,” Wachter said, flatly. “A superdreadnaught in Home Fleet is one that is not going to be at Cottbus, Hawthorn or anywhere else. If we stand in defence of Earth, Admiral Wilhelm could tear hell out of the other systems, including all of the first-rank worlds. A long campaign works in our favour, but the war could go on indefinitely and the damage would be vast, beyond comprehension.”

“And unthinkable,” Goscinny said, slowly. “He has enough superdreadnaughts to blow through any of the first-rank worlds, despite all of their arming-up programs after the Fall of Earth. They have to be defended.”

“They can’t be defended,” Wachter said. “Like I said. A superdreadnaught squadron defending Gaul — which is on the other side of Earth, as you well know — will not be defending Earth, or indeed AlphaCent. We have to accept that Admiral Wilhelm may launch attacks on those systems.”

“You just want to give them up?” Goscinny demanded, outraged. “What choice do you expect them to make if Admiral Wilhelm’s starships enter the system and demand surrender? We can’t even mass the entire first-rank fleet again!”

“We’re getting off the issue at hand,” Tiberius said, calmly. He gazed around the room, almost as if he were counting allies and opponents. “Admiral Garland should be removed for this failure.”

“She had little choice in the matter,” Goscinny replied, angrily. “We decided how she should act, how she should fly to Cottbus and even how she should make her approach. Perhaps we should have ordered her to sneak up to the planet and bombard it from cloak, or maybe just demanding surrender? It wasn’t her fault.”

“And how would you know that?” Tiberius asked, smoothly. “You’re not a military expert.”

“Neither are you,” Goscinny responded, sharply. “You’re sitting here second-guessing someone who risked her life to defend the new order you allied yourself to, once the war was comfortably won! What cause do you have, you… aristocrat, for attacking her?”

“It is the duty of this council to remove any commanding officer who cannot handle the task we assign her,” Tiberius said, flatly. “I have to question…”

“Enough,” Wachter said, flatly. He fixed Tiberius with a look he’d learned in his years of commanding starships and then entire fleets. Colin wouldn’t have chosen to defy Admiral Percival if Percival had had half of Joshua’s undoubted skill. The entire rebellion would have been impossible. “Admiral Garland acted as best as she could, given what she knew at the time… and few sane commanders would have risked sneaking an entire fleet up under cloak. Now…”

Colin listened, grimly. He’d never considered anything so insane, although he had taken his superdreadnaughts to Pollack, pretending to be friendly units until the moment he’d dropped the pretence and opened fire on their command fortress. Admiral Wilhelm had guts, if nothing else, and a willingness to gamble. It worried him, more than he cared to admit to anyone, but David; what if he couldn’t outthink or outfight him? Space warfare was simple, at least at the strategic level, but there was nothing unique about Colin’s own insights. Despite the Empire’s best efforts, no one had a monopoly on military tactics, or insights.

He tapped the table, bringing the remaining argument to an end. “We have some choices to make,” he said, knowing that some of them would prove unpopular. “First, we will gather every major capital ship we can here, at Earth, before sending reinforcements to Admiral Garland and her base, if it holds out long enough.” He doubted that Admiral Wilhelm would suffer it to continue to exist any longer than he absolutely had to tolerate it. “Secondarily, we will focus on enhancing the defences of the worlds in his path as much as we can, without endangering Earth.”

There was a pause. The blunt truth was that it was impossible to defend every world in sufficient strength to protect it from the entire Cottbus Sector Fleet, let alone the combined might of four sectors. Colin knew that — and, indeed, had counted on it when he’d been fighting the Empire — and he also knew that the first-rank worlds wouldn’t take it kindly. If they were lucky, they might even have a chance to survive long enough to protest in Parliament.

“Thirdly, we will dispatch raiding units into the Cottbus Sector to enhance Admiral Garland’s efforts and force Admiral Wilhelm to divert his own units to cover his rear,” he concluded. “Time, for once, is on our side. We merely have to cover three places long enough to bring the new ships into production and then we can drive on Cottbus and bring the war to an end.”

He watched them all filing out of the room, leaving him alone. It all seemed so futile and hopeless, even though he knew that it wasn’t hopeless, not yet. The truth was simple; they could stop Admiral Wilhelm eventually, but would it be in time to save the reformed Empire? If the Admiral came directly at Earth, the cost of stopping him would be horrific, in both blood and treasure… and the Empire might come apart. The first-rank worlds would seek their independence, the second and third-rank worlds would take the remainder of the Family businesses and facilities and chaos would spread everywhere. The rule of law would be broken. The only good aspect of the entire crisis was that it might unite Parliament against Admiral Wilhelm…

The starchart glowed in front of him, almost mocking him. Defeat was unthinkable… and yet, the Empire had thought the same. They hadn’t believed that they could be defeated, until it was too late. Was his Empire going to go the same way… and fall down straight into chaos? Was that how the story was going to end?