Rumors of Glory (The System States Rebellion Book 1) (14 page)

 

Remington heard someone curse and looked around. When she
saw who had uttered the curse and what he held in his hand, she lowered her
arms and said, “I’m not trying to escape, Commander. Look around you. Where the
hell would I go? I’m just trying to get help for the other prisoners who are
still trapped in the wreckage. Some of them are still alive and may be
seriously injured.”

 

Powell lowered his gun and looked around. She was right.
There was no way that she could escape from this planet, even with all the
chaos caused by the attack. He wondered if he was going into shock. He was usually
a lot more level-headed than this.

 

“Okay, Lieutenant…I guess I won’t shoot you today. Now
how about you help me up, and I’ll see what I can do about getting help for
your people.”

 

“I can live with that,” said Remington.

 

“I’m so relieved to hear it!” said Powell with obvious
sarcasm.

 

It was the middle of that night when Stevens and the rest
of his crew followed Stacker out of the shuttle and onto the concrete field of
the civilian spaceport. Stevens had been on Sparta before and knew the layout of
both the military and civilian spaceports. He looked between the grim-looking
and heavily armed SSU security people that surrounded them and over to the
military spaceport where he saw two smoking ruins where the Navy and Army
buildings used to be. They were now surrounded by floodlights and emergency
vehicles.

 

“Looks like we gave the SSU a bloody nose,” said Stacker
with obvious delight.

 

“Proud of yourselves, aren’t you?” said one of the
security guards. “FED navy and army prisoners were in those buildings when you
destroyed them. Congratulations, you’ve managed to kill more of your own people
than you did ours.”

 

Stevens sensed that his laugh had the ring of truth to
it. Stacker was in front of him. If his own hands hadn’t been tied together,
Stevens would have tried to strangle Stacker. Stacker looked around at the rest
of the crew and quickly lost his gleeful expression. He clearly didn’t believe
the guard, but it was obvious the rest of the crew did.

 

When the ship’s crew was finished being loaded onto a
bus, the bus sat there while they waited for the crews of the other crippled
cruisers to be brought down. By the time all the crews were loaded onto buses,
most of his people were asleep. He hoped they’d get to their destination soon.
He was tired as well. He wondered if he’d ever see Earth again.

Chapter Twelve

 

Day 262/2540

“Son of a bitch!” said Belloc. “I should never have sent
that courier with the prisoner exchange proposal. The idea of sending home the
bastards who conducted this attack turns my stomach!”

 

“I agree completely,” said Sorensen. “I knew some of the
people killed. At the very least, we should shoot that asshole Commodore. I get
the impression that some of his officers would thank us for it.”

 

Janicot sighed. “Unfortunately, that would set a bad
precedent, regardless of how warranted it might be. If we arbitrarily kill one
of our prisoners, what’s to stop the FEDs from killing one or more of theirs?
That was part of the proposal. Remember, Mandy? We’ll treat our prisoners decently
so long as they do the same. How would it look if we go ahead with the
exchange, and their people tell their leaders we killed the Commodore? Besides,
we need those people who are loyal to our cause but were unable to get back
here in time, and we need them more than ever.”

 

Before he could continue, Belloc said, “You’re referring
to the captured cruisers?”

 

“Precisely, Chancellor. Once we get those six cruisers
repaired, our fleet of patrol cruisers will have tripled.”

 

Sorensen gave a chuckle. “WHEN we repair them.”

 

Belloc looked at her and frowned. “Is there some doubt
about that, Mandy?”

 

Sorensen shrugged. “There’s good news and bad news,
Chancellor. The good news is that those captured cruisers can be repaired with
the right equipment. The bad news is that right now we don’t have the right
equipment and getting it will divert resources from other military projects
such as completing the ships we’ve started building from scratch.”

 

Belloc nodded. “I see. Tell me, Admiral, how soon can we
strike back at the FEDS.”

 

Janicot hesitated. “Well, if you mean striking back other
than capturing freighters, I’m afraid the answer is at least four months before
we could even think of doing something else. All our cruisers are out on
commerce raiding missions, and in fact one of them just left two weeks ago.
It’ll take her four months to get back, and only then would we have all three
available for a combined attack. I wouldn’t even consider ordering a
Xanadu-type of attack with less than three cruisers now. These patrol cruisers
are totally useless for the kind of operations that we’d like to be able to do.
Just look at what one missile boat did to six FED cruisers.”

 

“Wait a minute,” said Belloc. “That missile boat took
those cruisers by surprise, didn’t it?”

 

Janicot shook his head. “Not really. We know from
preliminary interrogation results that the entire FED cruiser force should have
gotten away scot-free, but six of them didn’t jump away when they should have
because of confusing commands. What I was getting at was that none of those
cruisers could defend themselves against even one incoming missile.”

 

“It seems to me that the FED Navy screwed up in their
design,” said Belloc.

 

“Well in hindsight, yes, but their Navy hasn’t fought a
war like this in almost 500 years. They chase smugglers and the odd pirate
that’s armed with nothing more lethal than a short-range cannon taken off a
tank. There was never any need for anti-missile defenses because their Navy
cruisers were the only ones with missiles to begin with.”

 

“So we can retaliate in four months?” asked Sorensen.

 

Janicot sighed. They STILL weren’t getting it. “Only if
you want to throw away the only three cruisers we have that are operational
right now. We’re short-handed as it is. It would be extremely short-sighted to
sacrifice the few experienced officers and crew we have for what basically
amounts to a poke in the eye. Any damage that those three cruisers could
accomplish will not affect the outcome of this war whatsoever in my opinion,
Madam Secretary.”

 

Sorensen was about to reply, but Belloc stopped her with
an upraised hand. “If these patrol cruisers are so vulnerable, then why are we
trying to build more of them?”

 

Janicot nodded. They were finally starting to ask the
right questions. “Exactly, Chancellor. Now that it’s been made painfully clear
what this design’s weaknesses are, we should forget about building carbon
copies and instead concentrate on upgrading that design with some basic
anti-missile capability. None of the new construction is anywhere close to
completion, so we can still modify them with minimal disruption to the building
schedule. What I would also suggest is that we start work on designing a more
powerful commerce raider. Something that’s bigger, with more missile tubes,
more missile storage capability, lots of anti-missile defenses and room for enough
extra personnel to bring back at least three captured freighters instead of
only one.”

 

“I agree with your suggestions, Admiral, but I’m
concerned about another FED attack on Sparta or one of the other key members of
the Union. Our seven missile boats plus our ground defenses weren’t able to
protect the city from an orbital missile barrage. What do we do about that?”
asked Belloc.

 

“I’ve already asked my people that question, Chancellor.
Here’s what they came up with. We continue the work on improving the
interception capability of our ground-based interceptors but, in addition, we
develop a modified version of those interceptors for use on our missile boats
so that they can try to intercept enemy missiles before they reach our
atmosphere. The counter-missiles are smaller than our standard anti-ship
missile, so the boats will be able to carry more of them and fire them faster
because they’ll be easier to load.”

 

“Okay. How quickly can we do that?”

 

Janicot hesitated. “The answer to that question depends
on our priorities, Chancellor. This is the kind of tradeoff that I was
referring to a couple of meetings ago. Right now, Sparta does not have an
extensive technical base with lots of trained people. We only have a few who
are capable of dealing with these challenges. Naturally we’re training more as
fast as we can, but that takes time. The trained people we have are stretched
thin on several projects, the upgrading of the anti-ship missile guidance
system being one of them. If we want work to begin on adapting our AMMs for use
by our missile boats, then we’d have to pull some or perhaps all of those
technicians off the upgrade project.”

 

“So if I understand you correctly, what you’re saying is
that we can either have an upgraded, ground-based AMM, or a less capable
version that can be fired from missile boats, but not both. Is that right,
Admiral?” asked Belloc.

 

“In the short run, yes, Chancellor.”

 

“Which option would you recommend?”

 

Janicot didn’t hesitate. “We should adapt our current
version for use by our boats. If a missile boat can fire AMMs, then so can our
cruisers, and if they can defend themselves against missile attacks, then we
really will be able to contemplate more aggressive actions with the cruisers we
have now or are likely to get in the near term.”

 

Belloc turned to Sorensen. “What’s your opinion, Mandy?”

 

Sorensen shrugged. “It’s hard to argue with Admiral
Janicot’s logic. We won’t have new construction ready for at least six more
months. Getting the most out of the ships we have now, or might have soon if we
can repair the six cripples in orbit, could make a big difference.”

 

Belloc nodded. “Very well, we’ll put the upgrade project
on hold for now but I want it resumed as soon as those technicians are no
longer needed for the missile boat adaptation project. Now let’s move on to the
next item on the agenda…”

 

                                          *       
*       *

Day 353/2540

 

Masterson was waiting outside the room used by the
Council when Admiral Chenko emerged.

 

“So? What did they decide?” asked Masterson.

 

Chenko grinned. “Whatever influence Commodore Stacker
might have had with the Council is now working against him. We don’t know
exactly what happened to the other six cruisers when the first two jumped away,
but we do know they didn’t return, and it looks very much like Stacker fucked
up royally just as I suspected he would. His supporters on the Council are now
backpedalling furiously to distance themselves from the Commodore, and they’re
very anxious to have me back as the NCoS again. I told them I’d accept the
position on the condition that they don’t interfere with the long-term plan
that they approved months ago AND that they agree to the proposed prisoner
exchange. After a lot of hemming and hawing, they agreed. That means that
General Trojan will have a free hand, and I’ll be getting some of my people
back.”

 

Masterson’s face must have revealed his surprise. Chenko
nodded. “You’re wondering why I didn’t try to have the Navy take over the
implementation, right?” Masterson nodded. “Well I didn’t do it out of
friendship. You and I will never be friends, but we respect each other, and we
both believe that the Federation has to put down this rebellion to survive.
Stacker’s fiasco just demonstrated what I already suspected, which is that the
Navy is short of flag officers who are both competent and can put aside their
egos when necessary. General Trojan strikes me as that kind of officer. I’d
rather have a competent Army General as the overall Field Commander than an
incompetent Admiral. Most of my officers would disagree, so in order to prevent
a mutiny, if you quote me on that I’ll deny it, okay?”

 

Masterson laughed. “Okay. How soon do you expect the
prisoner exchange to take place? There will probably be some army people coming
back too.”

 

Chenko shook his head. “I’d just be guessing at this
point, but it’s not going to happen anytime soon, not with messages taking
months each way. The Council is leaving it up to me to figure out the details,
so I’m thinking that freighters from both sides land on a planet that’s roughly
half way. That being the case, we’ll have to send them that suggestion, wait
for their response, then if they agree we can send a ship, so we’re looking at
a minimum of seven months best-case scenario.”

 

“Yes, that figures. So what happens in the meantime?”
asked Masterson.

 

“Absolutely nothing on our side in terms of hostile
action. We just don’t have the capability. Any new ships added to the fleet
over the near term will just help us get back to where we were before the
Stacker fiasco, and we need those ships just to hold on to the planets that
haven’t jumped ship yet. General Trojan has got to get the Franklin Tri-system
up and running as fast as possible. We can’t even begin to get serious about
taking back the initiative until he does that.”

 

“He knows that, Sergei. The first shipment of
infrastructure equipment is just about ready to go.”

 

Chenko sighed. “You know, Frank, as a student of history,
I’m gradually coming around to the view that the Federation is just too big to
be administered centrally, given the long transit times. We have to deal with
about the same kind of communication lag that the old British Empire had in the
age of sailing ships, but they were able to hang on to their empire mostly because
their ships and officers were better than anyone else’s. We don’t have that
advantage, so we’re going to have to preserve the Federation by brute force,
because that’s all we have. If we don’t put down this rebellion, more and more
planets will secede until we’re a Federation on paper only. So I see the
necessity of what we’re doing, but I just wish that every move didn’t have to
take months to execute!”

 

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but now that you’ve
spelled it out, I see your point,” said Masterson.

 

“Oh well, it is what it is. I’m going back to my old
office now. I can’t wait to see the faces on my staff when they find out that
The Old Man is back again! See you later, Frank.”

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