Rumors of Salvation (System States Rebellion Book 3) (5 page)

Chenko
did think it was ludicrous, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to say so. “I
hope you’re not expecting me to jump aboard that bandwagon. I’ve been an
officer in the Federation Navy for over 50 years. I don’t think I could change
now, regardless of how compelling the arguments for it might be.” After a
pause, he said in a low tone, “I’m willing to admit that if you believe that
analysis to be accurate, then I can understand the rationale for setting aside
your oath. I’m not saying I agree with it, but at least I can understand it.
What I have a much harder time understanding is why it was necessary to commit
mass murder with nukes yesterday. We’re still counting the dead, but it’ll be
at least 300 million souls. Why?”

Nagumo’s
expression took on a puzzled look. “I honestly don’t know how that happened.
When Admiral Romanov briefed us prior to leaving Hadley, there was no mention
of using nukes against civilians at all! The plan was to sneak up on your
lasersats with our stealth cruisers, knock them out, then bring in the
transports and land the troops. When my Weapons Officer got the digital
instructions to program the missile barrage from Romanov’s W.O., we were all
surprised by it, but we obeyed because orders transmitted from the flagship via
datalink were routine. After the missile launch began, I tried to contact
Romanov verbally for an explanation, but there was no response.”

“What
about asking him now?” asked Chenko.

Nagumo
shook his head. “Romanov and his entire Bridge crew are dead. That lasersat
strike managed to penetrate deep enough to turn the Bridge into a
slaughterhouse. The x-ray laser beams vaporized sufficient metal to instantly
bring the temperature in that room to the point where human bodies turned to
ashes within seconds. Obviously, all the Bridge computer equipment was
destroyed too, so we can’t replay the recording of what happened prior to the
laser attack.”

“Any
chance that Romanov’s W.O. set up the attack on his own initiative?”

Nagumo
shook his head. “I know his Weapons Officer. She’s about as level-headed as
they come. She would never do something like that without orders.”

“Then
somebody gave her those orders. Was it Romanov or was it someone else? Trojan
maybe?” asked Chenko.

“Maybe.
I know that the Emperor was putting pressure on the Admiral to use nukes
against civilians if the situation warranted it, but the general impression I
and the other ship commanders had was that the Admiral was reluctant to use
them, and I agree with that. We’re trying to save planets from mass deaths, not
inflict them.”

Chenko
shook his head in dismay. “So what happens now?”

“The
government machinery of the FPS will be disbanded. The troops trained to defend
it will be disarmed and sent home. I’ll leave behind a contingent of the
Emperor’s troops to make sure that things stay that way after the Fleet leaves.
With Earth pacified and the SSU crushed, the Empire will continue to spread its
authority throughout the rest of Human Space, and the fighting will be over. If
it’s any consolation, the Emperor has no desire to interfere in planetary
affairs. How you people run your planet is your own business, so long as you
don’t try to build warships or weapons of mass destruction. Any attempt to do
that will be dealt with swiftly and harshly. If there’s any silver lining in
what happened yesterday, it’s that the whole issue was settled before we got
around to destroying all your space-based infrastructure. That’s no longer
necessary, so Earth gets to keep it. It’s not worth 300 million dead, I agree,
but it’s something.”

“Yeah,
something,” said Chenko in a defeated tone.

Day
350/2552

Hadley

Trojan
slammed his fist down on the desk and winced (in pain), and it wasn’t just from
the pain in his hand. It was also from the pain of having read in the report
transmitted by Acting Fleet Admiral Nagumo that his long-time friend, Romanov,
had died in the fouled up attack on Earth. Before he could utter a curse that
might make him feel better, the wall display on the opposite wall pinged for
attention. Majestic was transmitting a text message.

[Death
of Admiral Romanov has increased the probability of a successful conclusion to
the establishment of the Empire. Massive casualties on Earth also have a
beneficial impact on overall probabilities due to deterrent effect on other
planets. Recommend that you allow implant of communication device for yourself.
The improved efficiency will boost probability of Empire Project success to
98.3%]

“I
will not have that damned thing implanted in my neck!” said Trojan.

[Without
direct communication…]

The
text message stopped in mid-sentence when Trojan, looking away from the
display, said, “If you don’t stop nagging me about that implant device, I’ll
have you shut down!” Trojan decided he needed to get out of his office for a
while to someplace where Majestic couldn’t bother him. He needed a distraction
to dull the sense of loss about Romanov. A visit with one of his concubines
might do the trick. Usually he was too tired at the end of the day to feel any
sexual energy, but it was still early, and he decided to take the rest of the
day off. Emperors were allowed to do that once in a while. The thought made him
laugh as he sprinted for the door.

Day
007/2553

Midgard

Murphy
leaned back as he engaged the aircar’s auto-pilot. With the vehicle now able to
find its own way back to the volcano base, he had time to ponder the
implications of the information a freighter had just delivered. Earth was now
part of the Empire too! The fact that Admiral Chenko and General Masterson were
now under the control of Trojan’s fanatic troops made Murphy want to smash
something in frustration. The first prototype ship was almost ready, and now
the whole project was in jeopardy because the Empire had struck first. He hoped
Chenko had followed his advice about not keeping any records of the project on
Earth. If Romanov got wind of it, he would send his ships to Midgard and
carefully recon every square meter of both the planet and the moon. There was a
good chance they’d find the underground metal extraction complex on the moon
and maybe even the shipyard inside the volcano. Dammit, just when he was
beginning to have hope that the Empire and perhaps even the Federation could
somehow be overcome, the Empire had struck a major blow to his carefully
nurtured plans.

Two
hours later when the aircar had dropped down into the volcano and landed, he
knew how he wanted to proceed. Commander Colt was waiting for him as he got out
of the aircar.

“Well,
what news was so important that you had to fly to the spaceport to hear it?”
asked Colt. Murphy didn’t answer right away. He gestured for Colt to follow him
to a part of the base where parts were being temporarily stored and where no
one was close enough to hear them talk.

“A
freighter just arrived from Earth. Earth’s been conquered. Some cities were
nuked, and Empire troops are now in control. No word from either Chenko or
Masterson. We’re on our own now, Harry,” said Murphy in a low voice.

“Oh
God.” Colt looked even more shaken by the news than Murphy had been when he
heard it. “I don’t see how we can go on, Bret. Yes, I know the ship is almost
ready, but the crew hasn’t arrived yet, and they won’t be arriving now that all
Federation military personnel on Earth are surely being carefully watched.
Without a crew, we’re just wasting our time here.”

“No,
we’re not, Harry. The two hour ride back gave me lots of time to think about
this. We’ve got almost 200 people working here at the base. We can put together
our own crew.”

“You’re
not serious, are you? It doesn’t matter that most of the people here are
Federation Navy personnel, we’re not trained to crew a spaceship. I’m an
Engineer for God’s Sakes! Most of the others are too, or else they’re in admin
or logistics. We wear the Navy uniform, but we’ve never operated a ship or
fired a shot in battle. Who would we get to command this ship who has combat
AND command experience?”

Before
Colt could continue, Murphy said, “I’ll command the prototype. I have both
command and combat experience, if that’s defined as being shot at. I understand
that the volunteer crew will have a lot to learn, but maybe not as much as you
think. After all, you and your techies know this ship inside out and far better
than most navy crews know their ships. What they lack is knowledge of
operational procedures and shipboard routines, and those I can teach. Start
passing the word around that I’ll be commanding her…” He pointed to the black,
12-sided structure a few hundred meters away. “…and that I’m calling for
volunteers to crew her. When I see what kind of response we get, I’ll have a
better idea of what kind of training they’ll need.”

“I’m
not sure if that’s allowed, Bret. The Council put you in charge of getting the
operation here going. I don’t think taking command of the first ship fits that
criteria,” said Colt.

“That’s
a moot point now, don’t you think, Harry? There’s no one left on Earth in a
position to authorize anything anymore, but I do have some justification for
assuming command. Chenko and Masterson promised me that I’d be present when
their fleet neutralized Hadley and took out Trojan and his pet computer. I’m
simply making sure that happens and filling the hole in the Command structure
at the same time. Has anyone else here got a better motivation for smashing the
Empire than I do?”

Colt
shook his head. Everyone on the base had heard by now about Murphy’s previous
attempt to build ships on Midgard and what happened to his people.

“You’ve
got a good point there, Bret. I’ll pass the word around for volunteers.”

As
Colt walked away, Murphy looked at the prototype ship. She would need a name.
He toyed with names that invoked the concept of revenge, Vengeance, Nemesis,
Avenger and others. None of them appealed to him. The fact that he had a
personal vendetta against Trojan to settle was really beside the point. They
were fighting a war for the principle that planets should have the right to
determine their own destiny. That ship would use its ability to evade detection
to appear out of nowhere and disappear back into the shadows almost like a
wizard, but Wizard would be a terrible name for a ship. So would Magus,
Enchanter, Necromancer. Was there another word for a wizard? A name popped into
his head. Sorcerer. That had a nice mystical ring to it.
I christen you,
Sorcerer,
he thought to himself.

Day
079/2553

In
orbit over Hadley

Murphy
held his breath as Sorcerer emerged from hyper-space just over 19 light seconds
from Hadley. He quickly realized that holding his breath in anticipation of
something dramatic happening was foolish. At this distance from the planet, the
chances of emerging from hyper-space close enough to another ship to be somehow
detected was literally astronomical. Nevertheless, Sorcerer was maintaining
complete EM silence. No emissions of any kind were being transmitted. Instead,
she listened for enemy transmissions including communication, radar, even
low-powered lasers. After a couple of minutes of patiently waiting for his
inexperienced crew to check their instruments, Murphy unbuckled himself from
his Command Station chair and stepped over to the Communications Station.

“Anything?”
he asked.

“Ah,
so far just some low-powered signals on frequencies usually used by civilians,
video mostly, Commander.”

“Anything
coming from an orbiting source?”

The
Com Technician shook his head. Murphy felt the urge to remind him that when an
officer asks a question, the response should be a verbal one, but he restrained
the impulse. His crew hadn’t undergone the usual years of training in military
protocol, so lapses like that were understandable.

Murphy
returned to his station and activated the screen that showed the various
pre-programmed approach vectors that the auto-pilot would use to maneuver the
ship. After evaluating the options available, Murphy selected one of them and
instructed the auto-pilot to execute the program.

Five
nerve-wracking hours later, Sorcerer slipped into a high, geo-synchronous orbit
over the spot on Hadley where the underground complex containing Majestic was
reputed to be. They hadn’t been detected so far, but that conclusion was based
on the fact that they hadn’t been fired upon, and that could change literally
any second. They were close enough to the planet to be hit by radar beams from
orbiting stations, and Murphy’s biggest worry during the approach was whether
the Helm Officer had enough training to keep the ship oriented so that radar
beams were deflected in harmless directions. He was now standing next to the
Weapons Stations. Sorcerer had ten missile tubes, which put her in the same
class as the pre-war patrol cruisers in terms of offensive punch, but that
didn’t tell the whole story. Her missile tubes could fire larger missiles, and
her defenses consisted of a thin layer of collapsed matter armor, plus a dozen
anti-missile lasers. The trade-off for having those ten large missile tubes was
the relatively modest amount of missile storage capacity. In a stand up fight,
the Sorcerer class of light cruisers would very quickly shoot themselves dry.
The larger class of warship that was already under construction instead of
another Sorcerer-class ship would have plenty of missile storage capacity, but
that didn’t help them now. Murphy looked at the console screen showing the
status of missiles that were ready to fire and shook his head in frustration.
He only had six missiles armed with fission warheads, and those warheads had
explosive yields that were smaller than he’d been hoping for. He reminded
himself that they were lucky they had any fission warheads at all considering
the limited pool of weapons engineering expertise the base on Midgard had. Not
all of the intended warhead designers had arrived on Midgard by the time Earth
was conquered by the Empire, so they had to make do with what they had.

Murphy
looked his Weapons Officer in the eye. “We’ll go with targeting plan Alpha2,
Lieutenant.”

“Alpha2,
yessir,” said the young officer in a nervous voice. When the missiles were
ready to fire, he looked up at Murphy and nodded.

“Execute,”
said Murphy in a voice that had far more anger in it than he intended. This was
the moment he’d been waiting for. In less than eight minutes, six fission bombs
would detonate in a hexagon pattern that should penetrate the rock layers
protecting the Majestic installation. The distances between the bombs were
calculated so that the shock waves would reinforce each other. His engineers
had told him that the computer components would probably not be destroyed
outright, but would very likely be so damaged that the computer would no longer
be functional, and the destruction of access tunnels would prevent it from
being repaired for a long time. Whether Trojan was still living inside Majestic
was unknown. If he was, then the concussion waves had a good chance of killing
him too.

“All
six missiles have fired, Sir,” said the Weapons Officer. Murphy gave him a
congratulatory pat on the arm as he turned to the Helm Station and said, “Okay,
Helm, get us out of here.”

Trojan
woke up suddenly and listened carefully. Everything was quiet. That surprised
him. He couldn’t remember the last time he woke up that quickly without there
being some kind of sound or alarm. Since he was now wide awake, he decided to
get up and step out onto the balcony for some cool, refreshing breeze. As the
balcony doors opened automatically at his approach, he saw that it was still
the middle of the night. He reached the railing and savored the cool wind that
caressed his face and body. The silence was absolute. His palace was built in
an open stretch of land far enough away from the nearest urban center that
their light and sound didn’t reach him, and animal and insect life was minimal.
As he pondered the silence, he realized that there was in fact a sound that
seemed to originate a long distance away. He didn’t recognize what was causing
it, but it was clearly artificial in nature. He just happened to be looking in
the right direction to see multiple streaks of orange-red light penetrate the
cloud cover and quickly hit the ground beyond the horizon. His eyes rebelled at
the sudden flashes of light that were, for a split second, brighter than
Hadley’s sun. He knew what those flashes had to be, and he also knew where they
had landed. The only thing worth attacking in the direction that he was looking
was the Majestic Complex. He knew he should run back inside and sound the
alarm, but he’d never seen any kind of nuclear detonation with his own eyes,
and the rising mushroom cloud was so awe-inspiring that he couldn’t look away.
He remembered too late that there would be a concussion wave approaching at the
speed of sound. The sound of the explosion, when it reached him, was a roar so
low in frequency that he could feel it resonate inside his head and body. It
made the sound of thunder pale in comparison. The roar went on for a
surprisingly long time. Trojan relaxed. There was no need to rush now. The
sound made by the explosions were undoubtedly doing a better job of waking up
the palace staff than anything he could do. He checked the direction of the
prevailing winds and determined that the radioactive fallout would be
travelling off to one side at least for a while. That was a stroke of luck.
When the rising fireball was finally extinguished, he turned and went back
inside. It was going to be a busy night.