First Strike (33 page)

It took several minutes for the battlecruiser to repair its sensor systems. By the time it started sweeping space again,
 
Blackbird
 
was already opening up a quantum gate and vanishing. The battlecruiser gave chase, but it was far too late. Joshua and his crew had made a clean break and lost themselves within the storms of quantum space.

“Thank God,” he said, as they realised that they were safe. A single error in the timing could have cost them their lives. “That could have ended badly.”

Karla chuckled. “I suppose it could have done, sir,” she agreed. She seemed to hesitate, and then winked at him. “Want to join me in my cabin to celebrate?”

Joshua blinked at her, and then pushed his doubts aside. “Why not?” He asked. A hundred possible answers arose in his mind, but he pushed them down. It would be two days until they could return to Shadow, whatever else happened. “I don’t think we'll have much more to celebrate for a while.”

* * *

Joshua had been feeling paranoid when they returned to Shadow and had taken care to bring
 
Blackbeard
 
out of quantum space some distance from the asteroid. Even so, it was easy to see the expanding shell of debris where the asteroid had once been, torn apart by antimatter torpedoes launched by Hegemony starships. Some of the drifting clouds of debris looked to have come from starships, hunted down and destroyed by the invaders while trying to escape. The Funks had hit the system, blown apart the asteroid, and left again, leaving the debris as a silent warning to anyone who had thought that the secret colony was a safe place to hide from their wrath.

Few of the people on Shadow had been morally uptight citizens, even of societies where anarchy was the general rule. They’d been criminals, hunted by their own governments and every other government in the galaxy, or rebels from the Hegemony and a dozen other repressive powers. But one man’s terrorist was another’s freedom fighter. The Funks would have obliterated rebels from any other power with the same lack of compassion they would show to the Gobbles, or insurgents on Terra Nova. They’d probably sent the other governments a bill.

“They’ve mined local space,” Karla said. She was quietly professional, betraying nothing of the passion she had shared with him over two long nights. Joshua found it easier to grasp than most; freighter crews got very close or they ended the voyage hating each other. He’d always found it easier to assign ships to married couples than singletons. “Nothing particularly subtle – they
 
wanted
 
the mines to be detected.”

“Their version of sowing the ground with salt,” Joshua muttered. “They wanted to make sure that the message was rubbed home. Thou shall not conspire against the Funky bastards.”

He shook his head. Someone had definitely betrayed him, probably one of the pirates he’d pulled into his growing fleet. Or maybe one of the rebels was actually a long-term sleeper agent from the Hegemony. Some of the tricks the Galactics had developed had horrifying implications. It was possible to program someone to be an unwitting spy, leaving them unaware of their actions – and if tested under a lie detector, swearing that they were innocent because they
 
believed
 
that they were innocent.

But unless they’d had access to more information than was possible, they wouldn't have been able to wipe out the other bases, or even the rest of the Clunker fleet. The tiny fleet of freighters carrying his supplies wouldn't have been touched. And that left him with options, including some the Funks would never suspect. They might believe that they’d killed the pirate king, or at the very least scattered and unnerved his followers, but they were in for a surprise. Joshua smiled to himself, remembering the strange civilization that had existed inside the asteroid, and then looked over at Karla.

“Take us out of here,” he ordered.

“Aye, sir,” Karla said. She looked down at her console, before looking up at him again. “And where exactly are we going?”

“Point Pooh,” Joshua said. They’d meet up with the remainder of the fleet, at least those who had stayed loyal, on the way. Some of the pirates probably wouldn't stop running until they reached a whole different sector, but the rebels had nowhere else to go. “And then we’re going to Tauscher. It’s time to give the Hegemony a very unpleasant surprise.”

“I must say that Earth was not impressed with Third Garston,” Admiral Sun said. “I spent far too much time soothing the nerves of old women of both genders.”

“Neither was I,” Tobias said. Garston had been settled long enough to have a first-class interstellar communications array. Right now, part of him was wishing that it had been accidentally destroyed during the invasion of the system. “It was just a reminder that our enemy is more inventive than we would prefer.”

“The incident certainly disturbed our political masters,” Sun confirmed. “It took hours of arguing to convince them to sign off on the transfer of the 4
th
 
Cruiser Squadron to the war front. That will have consequences back on Earth.”

He wasn't explicit – for fear of interception, even with the best encryption programs in the galaxy – but Tobias knew what he meant. Earth’s defences would rest in the hands of a single squadron of modern cruisers, a number of refitted seventh-hand starships purchased from the Galactics and a handful of gunboats that were meant to be working up for their own transfer to the war front. It was just possible that the two captured superdreadnoughts could also be pressed into service, but the last report had suggested that it would be at least six months before they were ready for even local defence. Besides, if Earth started building superdreadnoughts rather than cruisers, they’d be massively outgunned by the Hegemony.

But there would be little difference
, he reminded himself, dryly.
 
We
 
are
 
massively outgunned by the Hegemony
.

“There have also been political consequences on Center,” Sun added. “Some of the negotiations for loans and starship purchases have stalled. The Hegemony is still proclaiming its faith in total victory and you can bet your life that they won’t pick up our tab if they win. Not all of the Galactics are badly spooked, but even the ones who are still willing to deal want collateral for any loans. And we don't have much to offer them. A couple of the bastards want us to sign
 
Garston
 
over to them. The Federation Council is divided on the question – if we accept, we lose all revenue from the system, but if the Hegemony takes it back...”

“We lose it anyway,” Tobias agreed. “And simply denying it to the Hegemony doesn't really impact upon their ability to fund the war.”

“Not so much as the Traders Alliance has,” Sun said. “I’ve had teams of sociologists studying the question ever since they laid down the embargo on the Hegemony. Some believe that the Traders Alliance can afford to keep up the embargo for several years, others think that a few months would be enough to convince it to rethink its policy. It’s really just a gigantic trade union and a union that conspicuously fails to look after the interests of its members is doomed. There are really too many factors for them to make a precise estimate.”

“There always are,” Tobias said. He had limited faith in sociologists, let alone the headshrinkers that infested the personnel departments of the Federation Navy. Most of them were purely civilian and never had any real understanding of the military mindset, doing more harm than good. “As always, perception is
 
so
 
much more important than reality.”

He shrugged. “I believe that it is time to move ahead with Operation Doolittle,” he said. “It carries risks of its own, but we need to re-establish the myth of human invincibility as quickly as possible. I’d also like to take First Strike Fleet forwards and deal with the remaining starships at Hammerfall. Recon missions have confirmed that the enemy ships came from that system.”

“Despite the mines we laid in orbit,” Sun said. “I understood that you opposed invading and occupying Hammerfall.”

“Taking it would be pointless, once we reduced the defences and its ability to support a fleet,” Tobias said. “Unlike Garston, there are no interstellar shipping lanes that rely on the planet as a base. The Funks would simply destroy everything in orbit before they left, leaving us without any gains to show for our losses. But if we take out the starships, we should throw them back on the defensive.”

“And hope it’s enough to unseat their Empress,” Sun agreed. “We
 
have
 
been picking up reports of… social unrest on a dozen Hegemony worlds. The Empress appears to be firmly in control, but discontent is spreading. I think that our policy of raiding worlds connected to the major clans is starting to pay dividends.”

“Let’s hope that it pays off in a big way soon,” Tobias said. “It was clear from their attempt to negotiate with Ambassador Li that they weren't serious about talking peace.”

“Some of the diplomats wanted to accept the offer,” Sun said, dryly. “The US State Department was very vocal on the subject. You’d think they’d have learned a few lessons from pretty much their entire existence, but…” He shrugged. “The President is made of sterner stuff, luckily for us. America was one of the major investors in Terra Nova, after all, and lost thousands of colonists to the Funks. But in the long term, public opinion may swing against the war. The Hegemony has been crowing to everyone who will listen about Third Garston.”

“And elections are coming up in Britain and France,” Tobias said. “At least the Hegemony didn't make their offer publicly.”

“Some of the details leaked out,” Sun admitted. “Probably from the State Department. The Funks would probably be forced to deny that they’d ever considered talking peace if challenged – the Empress’s position would become untenable. I’ve been pressing for strong action to be taken against the leakers, but you know how hard it is to punish anyone for leaking information to the press in Washington. It may even have cost us our chance to end this war while we’re ahead and the bastard reporters don’t give a damn.”

He shook his head. “I’ll keep you informed of developments,” he said. “There is a more serious matter that needs to be addressed. The Hegemony has filed a formal complaint against Earth in the Commune.”

Tobias blinked. “Another one?”

“This one may be far more serious,” Sun said. “According to the case they’ve filed, they have evidence to prove that human agents were behind the massive upsurge in piracy in their rear areas over the last few months.”

“Unfortunately, there have been human pirates ever since we entered the interstellar community,” Tobias said. He kept his voice under firm control. “And there are the Funk raiders who raid pretty much everyone they can, even the Cats. Are the Funks blamed for their actions?”

“You know that they are not,” Sun said. It had been a sore point for years. The raiders were officially independent agents, but they had links to some of the Hegemony clans. Some of their operations had weakened local governments to the point where they’d been forced to accept an offer of ‘protection’ from the Hegemony. “But the Funks have managed to identify one of the humans. It’s Captain Joshua Wachter, the CEO of Stellar Trading. That’s a little more serious than a handful of ex-mercenaries who will be arrested the moment they return to human space.”

Tobias nodded slowly, his mind racing. In truth, he’d expected a security leak the moment he’d heard that Wachter was recruiting pirates and rebels to his cause. But only Wachter – and Tobias himself – knew that Earth had provided the first starships and seed money to the pirates. Tobias had been careful, very careful. No one else had enough of the pieces to draw a link between their work for the CNO and the pirate raiders. Even the endless paperwork was deliberately misleading. The starships he’d given to the pirates had been listed as destroyed in gunboat training exercises. There should be nothing to
 
prove
 
that Earth was directly involved with the pirates.

“Wachter is not exactly Earth’s favourite son,” he said, mildly. There were still people in the Federation Navy who wanted to try him for treason, or kill him without bothering with a trial. It wasn't a particularly rational response, but rationality rarely overcame cold logic – or the fact that Wachter’s refusal to be bound to Earth had come in handy over the last decade. The money and intelligence he'd sent home had been very helpful. “I hardly think that we can be held accountable for his actions.”

“The Funks don’t see it that way,” Sun said, “and this time they may manage to sway some of the uncommitted Galactics onto their side. You know how they feel about pirates, even ones who only raid the shipping belonging to evil bastards. God forbid that anything should disturb their precious status quo. The Federation Council feels that we need to make a statement disowning Wachter – and putting a price on his head.”

Tobias had known that it might come to that. He’d picked Wachter, rather than a random agent from SpecOps, because there
 
was
 
a strong case for Wachter being independent of Earth. After he’d formed his own company, he'd been careful to incorporate on a galactic tax haven rather than on Earth, evading the heavy taxes levelled on all businesses that drew in Galactic Credits. He’d certainly paid more than he would have owed, over the years, but various governments didn't see it that way. It was
 
their
 
job to determine how much their people should pay in tax.

Still, it pained him to cross that line. He'd known it might happen, he’d even warned Wachter of the danger, but still… it pained him. Betraying someone who had put their life on the line for Earth – at his personal request – didn't sit well with him. It happened, more often than anyone would care to admit, yet there were always consequences. Perhaps Wachter would tell all from a safe distance… no, Tobias knew better than that. Wachter had known the dangers from the first day he’d embarked on his career as a pirate king.

And Earth couldn’t afford the full weight of Galactic opinion swinging against her.

“I have to agree,” he said, feeling each word taste like ashes in his mouth. “We can disown him at once. Putting a price on his head might even encourage some of his associates to turn him in to Earth.”

“The Hegemony can probably outbid us,” Sun said, crossly. “But we have to try.”

Tobias nodded. At least Stellar Trading wouldn't be immediately affected. The Canaries weren't threatened by pirates and were unlikely to allow the other Galactics to push them around; they’d probably stall on seizing Wachter’s assets for a few months, depending on who was doing the pushing. But in the long term… he hoped that Wachter had taken the chance to convert his holdings into untraceable currency and made provisions for his crews. The Hegemony wasn't likely to believe that Stellar Trading wasn't involved – an interstellar company would make an excellent front for a pirate operation – and they’d come down like a hammer on anyone who fell into their hands.

“Keep me informed,” Tobias ordered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an operation to plan.”

“Of course, sir,” Sun said. “Good luck.”

His image vanished from the display, leaving Tobias shaking his head sadly. As a young recruit, he’d long believed that military service was primarily about honour, about fighting beside your fellows and never letting them down. A proper team of sailors – or soldier – would discover new reserves of courage rather than panicking and fleeing for their lives, leaving their comrades in the lurch. But as he'd grown older, and risen to ranks where playing the political game was more important than military competence, even genius, he’d become more cynical. He sent men and women out to fight and die on Earth’s behest – and he’d known many of the dead personally – yet he’d never had to betray someone who trusted him.

Years ago, Jackson Sampson – nine years older than his brother – had become a Navy SEAL and served in Afghanistan. He’d died in combat fighting the Taliban, fighting to the finish; it hadn't been until much later that Tobias had discovered that the only reason the SEALs had been ambushed and forced to fight their way out was that a uniformed politician, fearful of the bad press that came from deploying the promised air support so close to so-called civilian populations, had ordered the pilots to remain firmly on the ground. Four SEALs had died and two more had been badly wounded, just so that an officer could feel good about himself. He should have been shot for gross incompetence. Instead, he was firmly positioned working for a firm that produced military hardware for the Pentagon. Tobias had taken a small measure of revenge by ensuring that everything they provided for the Federation Navy was checked and rechecked, but it wasn't enough. He had wanted the man dead.

And now, older and wiser, he understood how the officer had felt.

He tapped his console, pushing the issue aside. “Commander Qadir, report to my office,” he ordered. “We have an operation to plan.”

* * *

“Are you sure that this is such a good idea?”

The Russian general looked at Adrienne as if she were something he’d scraped off his shoes. It had taken every bit of Adrienne’s formidable persuasive abilities to convince the man to agree to be interviewed, and yet as soon as she’d arrived at the base he'd insisted on showing her the troops exercising on the training field. None of them were human. A dozen races were represented in their ranks, with a single glaring exception. There were no Funks at all.

“Your nation found it extremely difficult to hold down a small country with only a handful of ethnic and racial divisions,” General Chekov said, finally. Adrienne had met dangerous men before, but the General was the first she’d met who might have been an outright sociopath. “I have been tasked to keep an entire
 
planet
 
under control and Earth has refused to forward me more troops. There is no choice, but to recruit local supporters, people who do not wish the Funks to return.”