Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Light

“You know as well as I do,” Sasha said, tiredly, “that hypnotics are tricky things.”

“Not that tricky,” Charlie said. He tapped the console and brought up the message. Cottbus System Command had laid down the law in no uncertain terms. No starships, passenger, commercial or anything else, would be permitted to leave the planet without special permission. He doubted that it would last that long — the embargo would hurt their economy badly — but it was long enough to prevent them from flying to meet Admiral Garland, assuming that she had survived the battle. “You know what we just saw, right?”

The other two stared at him angrily. “We saw an enemy force that won’t be stopped quickly and easily and can tear up this entire sector and ravish all the way to Earth before the Provisional Government gets its act together and gathers a force capable of ripping it apart,” he said. “We’re behind enemy lines, officially. We can’t get off this planet without being blown to bits. And, because of that warning, they probably know we’re here.”

“And they might find Andy,” Sandra said. Her voice was a parody of concern. “So what?”

“So they find him and they take him into a holding cell and they strap him down and they go through his mind with a fine-toothed comb until he’s a drooling idiot and they know everything he does about you,” Charlie snapped. “You said it yourself. Hypnotics are tricky things. The odds are that they will apply enough pressure to his tiny mind to find out what he remembers about you.”

“And again, so what?”

“He will remember fucking your brains out,” Charlie snapped. “They, on the other hand, will wonder just what actually happened. What is the difference between fantasy and reality anyway? When he tells them that he fucked you while you were both dead drunk… they’re going to know that he’s giving them false memories.”

He tapped the side of the console sharply. “We don’t have much time,” he said. “Our missile has changed from surveillance and intelligence-gathering to active operations — now, before they locate us and move in for the kill. The way this damn planet is organised… that won’t be very long at all.”

The first waypoint was only a light-year outside the Cottbus System. In theory, it should have been impossible for Admiral Wilhelm to track them to the waypoint, but Katy wasn’t in the mode to take chances. As soon as the entire surviving fleet flickered into the first waypoint, she ordered them to flicker directly to the second waypoint, before they paused to take stock. It wasn’t good news.

“We went into battle with twenty-seven superdreadnaughts,” she said, finally. Goscinny, she was relieved to see, looked just as stunned as she was. She’d been expecting a round of second-guessing — she rather expected she would face the same once she returned to Earth — but instead he looked merely stunned. If he’d been on a space yacht, as he’d wanted, he would have probably been killed. “We escaped with eleven destroyed and seven more badly damaged. I would prefer not to take them into combat if I could avoid it.”

Goscinny looked up at her, his eyes wide. “ Can you avoid it?”

“I don’t know,” Katy said. She pulled up a starchart of the Cottbus Sector and scowled at it. Assuming that Admiral Wilhelm and his allies controlled all of the uncontacted sectors, as well as Cottbus itself, they would have enough firepower to pose a serious threat to the Shadow Fleet. Colin would have taken steps to ensure that extra firepower would be rushed to the sector, if needed, but on interstellar scales that help would be very slow in coming. “He’s not going to remain at Cottbus, that’s for sure.”

She got up and started to pace. “He deliberately set an ambush for us and blew hell out of my fleet,” she said, aloud. Admitting even that much was painful, but there was no choice. At least this time no one had been left behind, which meant that Admiral Wilhelm wouldn’t have anyone to probe for intelligence… although he might not have needed their help. “There is no way that the Provisional Government will let that pass.”

“Don’t forget trying to assassinate one of their members,” Goscinny reminded her.

Katy smiled tiredly. She needed sleep and a long bath, but she wasn’t going to get either of them. Her crewers would be working desperately to restore as much as they could, but she had to worry about the fleet… and the impact on the Empire. It was almost a relief to think about something else, but she couldn’t do it for long.

“How true,” she agreed, dryly. The Provisional Government would probably regard the death of one of their own more seriously than the death of thousands of her crewmembers. “I don’t think they’ll forget that in a hurry.”

She looked back at the display and winced. “They’re going to attack Hawthorn,” she said, flatly. “They probably control the remaining Imperial Navy bases in their area of the Empire — fuck, there’s no way to know just how far their influence spreads, not yet. They have to take out Hawthorn for the same reason we had to take out Morrison, because it’s blocking their advance on Earth. The only difference is that their attack will succeed.”

Goscinny looked at her, shaken. “Are you sure?”

“They have the firepower to blast through the remains of their fleet and everything that Admiral Godwin has under his command,” Katy said, flatly. The memory of their confident departure from the planet was mocking her now. “They have to push their advantage as far as it will go and that means a drive on Earth. If they can capture and occupy Earth, that’s curtains for the Provisional Government and probably for the Empire. Admiral Wilhelm will inherit a ruin.”

“That’s not possible,” Goscinny said. “One fleet can’t do that much damage…?”

“Why not?” Katy asked him bleakly. “ We did.”

She turned back to the display. “I have some harsh decisions to make, Minister,” she said. It had been the first time she’d used his title since they’d left Earth and it brought him up short. “I’m going to have to dispatch one of the destroyers, one of the intact ones, back to Earth. You’re going with it.”

Goscinny started to protest, but Katy spoke over him. She wasn’t interested in a debate. “It’s not arguable,” she said, firmly. He scowled at her, but held his peace. “You don’t have a purpose here any longer, not now that diplomacy has failed so… comprehensibly. You have to make them understand that we need everything we can held at Earth to defend the planet.”

“You don’t want reinforcements?”

“I’d love reinforcements,” Katy said, flatly. “I’m not going to get them. Colin is going to need them at Earth. I can’t hold anywhere short of the first-rank worlds, so I’m going to harass them as much as I can until they drive me out of the sector. I should be good at it. I did it during the early stages of the war before First Harmony, or even First Morrison. I want you to make sure that Colin understands that we’re not going to have a comprehensive defence line before Earth itself.”

“And the first-rank worlds?” Goscinny asked. His voice tightened noticeably. “What about Gaul?”

Katy felt a twinge of pity for him. She’d been glad to leave her own homeworld, but Goscinny had spent all his life serving a single world. He’d worked to preserve it from the Empire’s wrath… and, when that had failed, thrown himself into making the Provisional Government work. Gaul had had a harsh lesson in the underlying truth of the Empire and Goscinny, at least, had never forgotten. The choice was between victory — permanent victory — or death.