Ground Control, page 3
Angelique nodded. Such had he written. Almost verbatim. He could have sent all that ahead on a fast courier, instead of returning to visit with her personally.
“And your spies?” she asked.
“I have studied the first attack,” Bellamy said. “They could not have timed it better to catch us at our weakest. From there to immediately hit the second base back with forces designed to cut out two of my four primary transports speaks to someone telling them exactly where to find us. And at the first attack, the raiders generally ignored mechanical targets. Aeromechia resupply. Metal and parts for ships. Instead, they concentrated on only attacking consumables for crew. Water and food for the most part, leaving fifty-five thousand sailors at risk of starvation if we didn’t immediately withdraw to places where food could be had.”
Angelique bit back a tart response. Bellamy wasn’t a fool, most of the time. An enemy of Donatien Fortier, which had been the primary reason she’d chosen him for this.
Fortier.
Now that was an interesting thought. Both he and Bausse Aublahzieu had vanished from Kohri, never to be seen again. No bodies had been recovered from either riot, so she’d assumed they had somehow fled to safety.
To where? Nowhere in the Unification was safe for them.
How far had they gone?
“Bellamy, could that have been the work of a renegade Chevalier?” she asked the man. “Fortier or Aublahzieu?”
“Not her,” he said immediately. “She was never that good. Fortier, however…”
She watched the man lean back, eyes unfocused and flickering back and forth.
“Yes,” he pronounced after about thirty seconds. “He could have told Yaumgan how to fight us. And he knew the bases that had been built up the first time, before we’d dismantled everything once a treaty had been negotiated.”
Angelique nodded. Seen that way, a lot of pieces suddenly rotated and formed a larger picture. It wasn’t a spy in Bellamy’s organization, though she did agree that the civilian transportation crews needed to be reviewed.
How had an Asouri been allowed to operate so close to the front lines? Obviously, none from that planet should have been trusted. Perhaps not for at least a generation hence.
What had that one been able to reveal?
She’d added the name Roch Sauvage to various wanted lists, with enough of a reward to make it worth bringing him in alive if possible, but she didn’t personally care.
Sauvage was a symbol that needed to be destroyed, not a person.
“What does it do to your strategy and tactics to face off against Fortier?” she asked.
“He was among the best Chevaliers you had, President St. Pierre,” Bellamy nodded. “But obviously, his will was broken by the monarchists. We would need to push forward aggressively, if it is he.”
“Why aggressively?” she pressed.
“A good commander like him would know where to look for our bases,” Bellamy replied. “We would have to defend all of them against that force, allowing them to weaken us as they struck at will.”
“And aggression?” she asked.
“They have the same forward resupply issues as we do,” he smiled terribly. “That means bases we can destroy, injuring them just as easily.”
“Can you do both?” she asked.
“Madame?”
“Can you defend in the short term, while you hunt for whatever they do to threaten us?” Angelique asked. “Then fix them in place and either destroy that force or starve it? You have noted that it was much smaller and didn’t dare face off against your aeromechia.”
Again, she watched him lean back and think.
“I will need to plot some strategies,” he finally said. “The Assault Carriers would be the best scouts. And Bertev itself contains enough force to crush most problems, once we can find them.”
“Do what you need, Chevalier,” she purred. “I will see Yaumgan destroyed.”
He rose and saluted, exiting to whatever linear officers like him did when they weren’t on the bridge of a starship.
Angelique leaned back and considered her own plans. Her hold on the Commission was strong enough at present, though the news that Yaumgan had driven Bellamy back had caused a few potential troublemakers to emerge from their winter dens and start sniffing for spring.
If, however, she started blaming it all on Fortier, no doubt that would rally more to her side.
After all, the man was already a traitor to the Unification.
Now, he would become her Nemesis.
Chapter 3
Date of the Republic January 24, 417 EM Shanhai Pass, JumpSpace
Heather looked up from her work when her office hatch opened and Ivonne stuck her head in.
“Admiral Fortier,” she said simply, waiting for Heather to nod then ducking back.
Donatien entered a moment later.
She was struck by the differences, comparing the man to the one she’d first met all those years ago. Or the first time she’d seen him at Ladaux.
Heather wouldn’t say he looked happy, because there was a certain grimness to the man that never went away. But he did seem more at peace.
With what, she didn’t know, but he had worked his ass off for months, trying to give her every edge she could exploit to defeat his old comrades.
And now, to bring down the Unification itself.
He sat and came to perfect rest. Calm, almost relaxed.
Who was this stranger?
“Anything new and exciting?” she asked.
They generally met at least every other day. Sometimes daily, depending on the situation. As Warlord of Yaumgan, she had too many responsibilities to pay attention to anything except grand strategy. That was why she had Donatien. And others at least temporarily willing to step up and fill overlarge shoes. The beginnings of an Admiralty Staff, like the Lords of the Fleet back on Ladaux.
“Thinking about The Passage,” he said. “About Bedrov’s suggestion that you haul some tractor beam-equipped freighters to the mouth and see if you can start building up enough mass there to keep someone from sailing in without a lot of effort.”
“And?” she asked, intrigued.
Bedrov was a pirate. Had been a pirate since before Heather had been born, if you did the math on his stories. Successful enough to survive Keller arriving. Smart enough to adapt to what she’d done.
Several times.
And he still only worked for her, while serving Jessica’s memory, though she wasn’t dead yet. Just off retired and leaving it to Heather’s generation to save the galaxy next.
“We should take it seriously,” he said simply. “Should stop working on that chokepoint in the center and shift efforts forward. That becomes a forward base at the mouth that can become your first staging point outwards.”
“Isn’t that the most obvious place for Bellamy to attack?” Heather asked.
“Absolutely,” Donatien nodded. “Certain things are simply dictated by circumstances and stellar geography.”
“What if they weren’t?” she asked.
If nothing else, the way he stopped and studied her for a long second was a drastic improvement. The original Chevalier had been a hard-headed punk.
But weren’t we all?
Now, he accepted her command. Assumed her brains. Listened.
“What other options are there?” he asked simply.
“There are other gaps in the wall,” she told him. “Loong is just the biggest and straightest. Best known. Not the only one.”
And there was no way in hell she was about to tell the man about the Viking Equations, which could be used to predict where to find more. Or Dunklin’s ideas about somehow shielding the JumpSails to let a ship simply cross the boundary of the cluster wall itself as if it wasn’t there.
For now, those walls formed a castle that protected Yaumgan and the others.
If Zerzan ever figured out how to bypass them, they could hit any system they wanted, and probably Unify the Cluster before anyone could stop them.
“Can we anchor a defensive formation at the mouth, then move sideways and establish a logistics base elsewhere?” Donatien asked.
“That’s my plan,” Heather said. “Need to send Yukon Antares to locate the coordinates I have from Viking. If it is still there, I can slip cargo carriers in that way, keeping them out of the way of enemy fleets.”
“Space is huge,” he nodded. “They’ll look at the mouth. If they don’t see freight staged, they might not grasp that we have swung around behind them.”
Heather liked the way he said we and they. Fully, unconsciously, automatically on her side.
She nodded.
“And any watchtower we sit there is just a tripwire,” she said. “Those ships turn and flee back to the base in the middle for now, unless Zerzan somehow ignores them for a year or longer to build something sufficient.”
“So they still attack Kyulle?” he grimaced.
“Assuming we don’t find their forward base inside the Cluster,” she said. “I’ve tasked the Aquitaine fleet with running scouting patrols to look, because they have the expertise to handle it. But based on your logic and experience, we stopped them from getting there.”
“So far,” he countered.
“So far,” Heather agreed. “And I’ve told them where you would have done it.”
“Good,” he nodded. “Next set of strategic questions for you.”
“Go ahead.”
“Am I better off with you on Shanhai Pass or forward with Griever on Yong Hao?” he asked. “Ta and Lai are both good officers, but not great at this sort of thing. Griever is smarter and less experienced, but that’s closing daily. If you detach all the Heavies as a forward raiding operation, I’m concerned that they might get in over their heads.”
Heather considered his words. His logic. His care for this new civilization that had taken him in from exile and given him a place.
“Let me counter,” she said, watching him perk up.
Not bristle, like so many people might. Instead, opening his mind to learn things from her.
He served her will, body and soul, and had told her that.
“What if I put Rocket Frog on Yong Hao and had you take over as top Air Boss of the Mothership force?” she asked. “That gives you Ainsley as an Exec you can hand things off to in battle and puts the pirate out where she can keep training Griever.”
“Yes, I like that,” he nodded. “It balances things and gives Provst the assistance she’ll need to take over my job one of these days.”
“Your job?” Heather asked, surprised.
“I’ve also read Jessica Keller Volume Two, Heather,” he turned serious. “I know who Tomas Provst is. And was. And I see him in his granddaughter. If she survives long enough, she might replace you as Warlord in another generation.”
Heather was rocked back on her heels by that, but couldn’t dispute it. The young woman had graduated eighth in her class, ahead of all the other pilot officer candidates and most of the rest. Without the benefit of years of military boarding schools that most of the others got. The Scholarship Kids, like her. And Jessica Keller.
He waited a second, then nodded.
“I presume you’ll let everyone know the updated org chart?” he asked, waiting for her nod. “Then I have some petty details on pilots and maintenance details. Might not really matter to you, but it rose enough for me to consider, so you might need it later.”
Heather sat back and listened to his bits and pieces. Mundane, certainly, but useful, when she had been hired to create a new navy for a new nation called the Electorate of Yaumgan.
And she could trust that Donatien Fortier had most of it in hand.
She could do this.
Chapter 4
Date of the Republic February 2, 417 Yukon Antares, On Patrol
Flight Centurion Jose Torres considered the vast blackness of space in front of him when he looked out the forward viewscreen, then compared it to the translucent blue shower curtain that showed up on his screens when he looked down.
And the dark knothole in the blue that had greeted them when they dropped out of JumpSpace.
“Griever, this is Beetle,” he said into the comm. “Score one for the good guys.”
“Roger that, Beetle,” Griever replied. “Got good intel from the Warlord. From here, I’m going to remain on patrol with the Heavy Wing outside, while you take Yukon Antares in and map it for us. According to the boss, this might replace Loong as our backdoor we use to sneak out of the Cluster in the future, so be wary.”
“Roger that, Griever,” Beetle acknowledged. “Yukon Antares will scout. Meet you back here in three hours, assuming all is well.”
“We’ll come looking in four,” she said.
He glanced over at Mejico, flying nearby, with the rest of the brute squad trailing off in four attack wings around them.
Hell of a lot of firepower, at least when engaging aeromechia. He’d be less excited to charge a mob of Escort Destroyers, but they could do damage there, too.
Beetle killed the external comm and switched to inside. The ship was cramped, in spite of taking a Heavy and removing all of the weapons and their crews. More generators crammed in. More sensors in their place. More computers to record it all.
That pirate Bedrov had said that they were close to the old CS-class scout corvettes for sensory power. Not a lot of flying range, but that was why he only had two crew members with him.
Beetle turned to Senior Chief Tifawt Hall and caught her nod.
“I’ve got this much mapped,” his electronic warfare tech said. “Of course, that’s the easy part. I’m ready to hop inward.”
He nodded.
“Gabir, stand by for JumpSpace,” he called.
Senior Chief Gabir Ismail. Flight Engineer.
“All good here,” he replied. “Ready for Jump.”
Beetle took his steed up into JumpSpace. Smooth, but the ship had just been stripped and rebuilt, with da Vinci spending almost as much time training him as she had getting his ship right. Shakedowns had revealed a few things, but when you have the design architects handy, fixes were pretty easy.
Not long in Jump, and they were back in real space.
“Scan reads zero forward momentum,” Tifawt replied. “Drift only.”
Beetle nodded and pointed a scanner aft. They’d gone straight in to the depth he’d originally scanned. Or she had, anyway.
“Time to scan the tunnel?” he asked.
“I’ll need five here,” she said.
Beetle checked his boards. Everything behaving. No profanities from Gabir aft.
Slowly, his boards filled in with representations as the data got transformed into information. Navigational plots.
Sailing plans.
“Okay, I have a second leg plotted,” Tifawt said finally. “Course laid in.”
Beetle checked it over and nodded. Bit of a corkscrew in here, but that had been what he’d been told to expect. Enough that you couldn’t just aim at a distant point and punch straight through, but once he and his people got this mapped, other ships could run it on autopilot.
If they were any good.
He slipped Yukon Antares into JumpSpace.
Beetle looked around at where the eighth hop had landed them. As at the other end, a wide-open space stretching away in front of him, with the blue wall of gravity on his aft flank. The Balhee Cluster itself.
And he’d mapped a new way in. Or out.
Not that far from Loong as galactic distances went, but far enough to be safe.
“Tifawt, what’s out there?” he asked, ready to slam back into JumpSpace if anyone else was around.
Spaces like this, you had to know they were there, or get damned lucky and come out of Jump almost on top of it. Beetle presumed that the Yaumgan folks had originally come through such a spot, to end up back in a back corner, at least when seen from Vilahana. Not this one, he didn’t think, but nobody had told him any different, from Rocket Frog down.
“Whole lot of nothing,” she replied. “Not picking up any signal traces or physical indications of any ship in the vicinity recently enough to be detectable.”
“What do you look for to tell that?” he asked, intrigued that she could find ships long after they’d left.
“Folks dump trash before they go to JumpSpace,” she replied. “Or after they come out. Since this is a stopping point, they might have, and I’d pick up refined metals, plastics, or whatever. Not seeing anything, so nothing recent. Say a few weeks, depending on momentum carrying it away from this point or just breaking it up.”
“Good to know,” he said. “da Vinci probably told me that at some point, but it was like trying to drink from a firehose around that woman.”
“Agreed,” Tifawt laughed. “At least I have some background from Shanhai Pass, though I’m still getting used to Gunships. Way different than flag bridge.”
He nodded. Probably just as bad, from the other direction.
“Keep scanning,” he ordered. “We’ll sit here cold for the next thirty minutes listening, then head back and meet the team.”
“Roger that.”
Beetle wondered how crazy things were likely to get. He’d come over from a Light Gunship to fly a Heavy turned Scout. Different way of flying. Of thinking. Of damned near everything.
And he knew how Griever was going to use him now. Slip in quietly and locate things, before somebody dropped a shuttle full of anvils on them.
He couldn’t wait.
Chapter 5
Fleet Carrier Transport Yong Hao, Middle of Flipping Nowhere
Saša studied the data that Mejico and Yukon Antares had brought home. She was still getting used to not being on Shanhai Pass, but Saša was adult enough to admit that Griever needed her more than Heather or Ainsley did.
