Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Right

“No,” he said. “Do you have any theories?”

The Security Officer frowned, stroking his chin. “None,” he said, finally. “It could be a display of wealth intended to impress their fellows — they’re always boasting about how fabulously rich they are — but anyone they thought was worth the effort of impressing would already know how much money they have. Or… perhaps they wanted to create their own workforce and eventually dominate the sector…”

“They already dominate the sector,” Colin said. He was thinking of Lady Ellicott-Chatham. She didn’t have any connections to the Roosevelt Family, as far as he knew, but perhaps she would know something. Jason Cordova could ask. Colin was no expert in the arts of love, yet he was sure that Cordova was attracted to the girl. “Or maybe…”

The GQ alert sounded, interrupting him. “All hands to battle stations,” Damiani’s voice said. “Set Condition One throughout the ship; Admiral Walker to the CIC. This is not a drill; I say again, this is not a drill.”

Colin stood up, reaching for his jacket. “We’ll discuss it later,” he said. “Once the battle is over, we’ll go through the data again.”

The CIC was buzzing with activity when Colin stepped into the compartment. “Report,” he ordered.

“The gunboats have returned, sir,” the tactical officer reported. “We’re getting the data download from them now.”

Colin nodded, pushing the other concerns out of his mind. It was time to make war.

“Show me,” he ordered. The display lit up with the latest data. There were no unexpected surprises within the system, although the weapons platforms in orbit seemed to be stronger and more numerous than the early reports had suggested. “Bring up the flicker drive and prepare to jump.”

He settled down in his command chair and waited for the other ships to report in, linking into the datanet binding the fleet together. “All ships report ready, sir,” the tactical officer said. “They await your command.”

Colin nodded. “Jump,” he ordered.

The sound of alarms echoing through the ship brought Daniel out of a fitful sleep. “Captain, this is Lieutenant Ellsworth,” a voice said. “Sir, multiple hostile warships have just flickered into the system!”

Daniel pulled himself out of his bunk, grabbed his jacket and raced for the bridge. “Begin powering up the drive,” he ordered, as he ploughed through the door. “Give me a report, right bloody now!”

“We have nine superdreadnaughts and assorted smaller ships,” the Lieutenant said, as he gratefully vacated the Captain’s chair. “IFF signals do not match anything in the updated database.”

“Prepare to take us out of here,” Daniel ordered. The sound of the drive powering up echoed through the ship. A destroyer’s great advantage was that it could flash-wake the flicker drive and be reasonably certain of arriving at the endpoint in one piece. The rebels didn’t know it, Daniel knew, but they had flown right into a trap. And the trap was about to be sprung. “Jump!”

A moment later, Snow White vanished from the Greenland System.

“Jump completed, Admiral,” the helmsman said. The display flickered to life, revealing the Greenland System ahead of them. There was no point in trying to hide their presence, so the sensor departments were using their active sensors at full power. The freighters and the handful of warships within the system weren’t responding yet, but they would. Even a blind starship captain would recognise the nine superdreadnaughts bearing down on the planet.

“All ships are reporting in,” the tactical officer said. “All weapons systems are online and ready for activation.”

Colin nodded, leaning back in his command chair and trying to project an impression of unconcern. “Launch probes, full spread,” he ordered. It was possible that Percival had tried to hide a surprise within the system, perhaps another squadron of superdreadnaughts. Colin hadn’t been able to decide if Percival would have the nerve to ask for help from Sector 99 or not. “I want every dust mote within this system tracked and logged.”

“Aye, sir,” the tactical officer said. “I am launching probes now.”

The probes sped away from the superdreadnaughts, transmitting their findings back to the ships thought tightbeam lasers. Colin watched as they updated their results, confirming that there were no starships within the limits of detectable range. With cloaking devices, or a starship simply shutting down all of its systems and pretending to be a harmless asteroid, that wasn’t as large as he would have preferred, yet even the Geeks hadn’t been able to improve the sensor systems to the point where they could detect a powered-down starship drifting in empty space. They were still promising breakthroughs, but Colin would believe it when he saw it. He’d also like an FTL communicator, while he was wishing, or a superweapon that could take out a superdreadnaught in a single shot.

And while I’m wishing, I’d like a pony , he thought, with sudden amusement. He smiled, studying the display. Judging from the sensor probes that were sweeping up towards his fleet, the defenders of the planet had noticed their arrival and were preparing to put up a fight. Collectively, his fleet had more firepower than the two massive orbital fortresses covering Greenland, but individually… it was going to be close, or at least it would have been if Colin had intended to take the planet. The yellow icons representing orbital installations appeared below the orbital fortresses, their crews already abandoning ship in lifepods and shuttles, saving their lives. Colin had known, even though he had taken no pleasure in it, that they wouldn’t have any time to issue warnings this time. They had to take out the facilities and retreat before Percival sent in reinforcements.

“Good work,” he said. The Geeks had managed to improve the control systems for the probes. While the Imperial Navy might be only able to launch six probes at once — or risk losing control of the additional probes — his ships could launch up to fifteen, each . It gave him an unprecedented level of tactical awareness, yet he had to keep reminding himself that merely having the probes didn’t make him aware of everything within range. It was still possible for a bold or cunning ship’s captain to slip close to his ships. “Helm… take us on the planned trajectory.”

The superdreadnaught seemed to strain at the leash as she moved towards the planet, her weapons systems coming awake one by one and locking onto their targets. Colin smiled darkly as he took in the sensors emanating from the orbital fortress, wondering when her commander would choose to open fire. If Colin had been in his shoes, with as much firepower as he had at his disposal, he would have opened fire as soon as the starships came into range, even though it would have given Colin’s point defence longer to lock onto and destroy the incoming missiles. It would have distracted the attackers — and their tactical sensors — from returning fire and it might, if the defenders were very lucky, knock out an external rack and damage a superdreadnaught’s ability to fire.

Greenland was a second world that had been given an unusual level of development, thanks to the Roosevelt Family. Colin would have been delighted to have the small complex of shipyards and industrial nodes in orbit around the planet under his control. Indeed, given a few more years, Greenland would probably become the production capital of the sector — particularly after the pasting the rebels had given Piccadilly. Colin turned it over and over in his mind, but no explanation seemed plausible. The Roosevelt Family was either led by fools — which might have explained why they’d trusted the system to Stacy Roosevelt — or they had some deeper motivation for their actions. Whatever it was, Colin hoped, his war had put an end to it. And who knew what would happen to the Roosevelt Family — and the Empire — if they were unable to complete their plans?