Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (80 page)

“The guild has been withdrawing its services from our empire for some time the countess replied.”

“And the reason for that is?”

“We have never known how deep the guild is, how they are set up. Any attempt to infiltrate them usually met with the death of the operatives involved as well as whoever ordered it,” the countess replied with a grimace. “But, we do know a few things. One of them is that the guild is completely independent and open to all species,” she said.

“Open to all species?” the emperor demanded. “Since when? The contacts we've had here …”

“Have been human. But that wasn't always the case, Sire. We know they've used nonhumans in the past. It turns out they weren't used so much as full members. We also discovered almost purely from accident that they vote on certain things.” She turned to the baron.

“You two and your games are boring me,” the emperor growled. “And passing the baton between the two of you isn't going to spare either of you my ire if you keep playing this game,” he said.

“Our apologies. Some came from my ministry, some from the intelligence branch, but the majority came from our last contact,” the baron stated. “They gave us a message, one my predecessor failed to pass on.”

“And that is?”

“The guild will no longer work for us, not after we initiated the cleansing campaign,” the baron replied. He flinched when the emperor's eyes narrowed. “And no amount of money or power offered will dissuade them.”

The emperor's hands clenched in rage. He was clearly unhappy, fuming about the turn of events. “Why didn't someone note this earlier so we can deal with it?” He finally ground out as he rose from the throne and began to pace.

“It didn't come up until now. They are secretive,” the countess explained.

“And we trusted them? For this long?” the emperor demanded, rounding on her.

“Yes, Sire. There is no telling what they know. And since we've enacted the cleansing campaign they have become distant. The one spot of good news is they are sensitive to Konohagakure; it is possibly one of their worlds.”

The emperor paused and turned to her in surprise. “One of their …”

“I've been trying to do research on them. The results are … mixed.” The countess grimaced in annoyance. “I've noted deliberate redactions, edits, and misconceptions in the various files when I compared them to various copies, some thought to be secure. I think they have gained access and have altered our records as they did to the federation. The guilds are intertwined. The thieves are still willing to work with us but only from a distance.”

Baron Ghadaffi grimaced. “Great, so there is no telling who they truly are and if they are working against us. And since the cleansing campaign has begun ….” It was his turn to scowl. The emperor went back to his throne and flopped into it with a grunt.

The emperor wrinkled his nose as he drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “I don't understand. Why would they stop helping us? We pay them …”

The countess shook her head. “It isn't about money, Sire. They would be cutting their own throats if they helped us from this point. Count your blessings they haven't declared against us totally.”

“That would be foolish of them. Correct?” the emperor demanded. He looked from one of them to the other and then back again.

“Not … not necessarily in that it would disrupt us … I suppose it is a question of
how,
” the baron said tentatively.

“That is true. They have operatives sown throughout our population. We know that because our government and certain powerful parties have used them in OPS here to handle certain problems that have cropped up over the centuries,” the countess stated.

“The other problem is, Sire, we
can't
get into the federation space.” The emperor stared at him balefully. “No ships can move through Protodon; they are fortifying it. Anything that came through would be boarded and seized.”

“Logically the same could be said of Pyrax and Senka. That means we have to go the long route through Sigma and Pi sector and then back in to get to Antigua. That would take a decade or more, Sire,” the countess warned. “I'm already trying to set up contacts with the operatives we've left behind in those areas that way but it is a slow, long drawn-out process.”

“And we wouldn't have any knowledge if they succeeded or not—not for a long time,” the baron warned.

“Find a way and means to do it anyway. It is a shot in the dark, but at least it is something. You are setting up alternative means of communication with our assets on that side of the sector, are you not?” the baron demanded, eying the countess.

The countess frowned then nodded when the emperor's eyes narrowed. “Yes, Sire,” she said hastily.

The emperor's eyes cut to the baron. He nodded hastily as well. “We're doing our best. As you just pointed out, we need to get it started now. Finding a way to cut the chain down is important though. Perhaps vital.”

“Find a way,” the emperor ordered.

“Of course this could all be moot if Admiral De Gaulte succeeds in getting us into Protodon,” the countess said. The emperor turned his baleful gaze on her. After a moment he nodded.

“But he'll need reinforcements, Sire,” the baron said. “Getting in will most likely entail damage to his ships. Too much or even losses could stall him.”

“I'll consider that,” the emperor said. “We're done here. For the sake of your jobs and your own necks get some progress on the Irons’ front and getting intelligence from the federation. Get on that now,” he growled, dismissing them.

Both ministers stiffened. It wasn't clear to either if the other was indignant by the open threat or not however. Neither had anything to say in response so they bowed and retreated.

:::{)(}:::

Captain Abernly was pleased when he awoke to news that a second Retribution Fleet resupply convoy had arrived in Dead Drop while he had slept. Some of the ships were designated to his command as well, which pleased him. Most were small fry though.

What didn't please him was the balance he was seeing. Eighty percent was going to the Retribution Fleet. Ten to 15 percent was missing, most likely backstopped by that bitch of a duchess in Garth, he thought moodily. He was, therefore, left with leftovers, and he wasn't having it. As picket commander he backstopped the convoy temporarily. His open statement when asked why was that he did not want to send them into a war zone.

However, he wasn't prepared to run into resistance from the convoy captain. Captain Lovejoy outranked him by date of rank. “Let's get this over with quickly; we've got a date to keep,” the captain said before Captain Abernly could open his mouth. “Magnus, your order has been nullified. Countermanded, overruled, whatever you want to say about it. The plan is to sail my convoy to B-97A and send a warship to B-95a3 to check for the Retribution Fleet. I'm going to follow that plan to the letter. If you don't like it, take it up with the Admiralty,” the captain said, locking eyes with the fat captain.

Captain Abernly flexed his jaw and squeezed his fingers into fists. He wanted to tug on his pony tail in frustration but knew better than to do so in front of a fellow officer. “All right, I can't stop you obviously. But be careful.”

The captain nodded. “We will.”

“Safe sailing,” Captain Abernly ground out before he disconnected the circuit. He turned to his second. “Don't give them a scrap more than we have to. Not a drop more fuel or water, no special privileges, not a damn thing. They get what's coming to them,” he said.

“Aye aye, sir,” the lieutenant replied with a dutiful nod.

:::{)(}:::

Imperial Intelligence released a report on the federation potential based on what they had seen so far or picked up from INTEL resources. Unfortunately, they didn't have any current data with Protodon, Senka, and Pyrax in enemy hands; no spy ships could pass through to get word to the empire. Now they were working in a vacuum so speculation was beginning to be raised.

That tended to spark some hysteria as some drew conclusions while drawing up a GOTH scenario.

They knew Admiral Irons was a key master based on several sources of intelligence, most of it from his times passing through Triang. They also knew he'd found his own source of sleepers. The Neochimp rear admiral in charge of their Second Fleet in Protodon was proof of that.

Pyrax had been busy gathering and training recruits for over a decade before Admiral Irons had turned back up. They'd also apparently been turning Pyrax into a black hole for her spy ships. Only one had managed to get in and out, but they had been extremely careful not to look too hard so they wouldn't get caught. So, what little intelligence they had gathered was all they had. It was also approximate, most of it media clippings.

They knew for instance that Pyrax had an active shipyard and orbital fortresses guarding the jump point. It also had a sizeable fleet defending the star system.

Then there were the ships. Imperial Intelligence knew he'd captured one BC in B101a1, the
Queen Adrienne
, but according to the last dispatches, Second Fleet had more than one, which spoke of ominous things about their production rate. It was pretty close to what the federation itself had reportedly had.

She couldn't believe he had all the keys. It wasn't possible, was it? A key master yes, but all? She frowned as she scanned his bio again. Then something practically leapt off the page at her. She sucked in a breath, disbelief and shock making her eyes grow wide before they narrowed. How could she have missed that he'd been at the heart of building both wormholes
and
the Nova bomb?

Perhaps the hysterics had a point, she thought darkly. There was no telling what the man had in his bag of tricks and implants. They could
not
underestimate him.

She turned back to the shipyards. He now had two active yards: one in Antigua, one in Pyrax. He couldn't be in two places at the same time, so he most likely was shipping parts and hulls between the yards. That would explain some of the shipping reports her people had observed before Protodon had been sealed shut. There was no telling what they were shipping now. Whatever it was, it didn't bode well for Horath, of that she was certain.

There were no numbers, no hard data. Just observations and conclusions. A pyramid of assumptions that could come crashing down when hard data did come into their hands … or be proven to be just the tip of a rather big iceberg. She played with her lip pensively for a few minutes before she came to a decision.

Countess Newberry read the report and quietly allowed it to be disseminated as eyes-only reading at the highest levels of the government. She made certain she had a cutout in case the emperor wanted to retaliate for the release.

It was grim reading. According to the report and the simulations that had been run based on the raw data, the rapid increase in threat potential right in their backyard, one they may not be able to handle even if they sortie the entire Home Fleet came as something as a shock to all. The report's conclusions alarmed the admirals and ruling families.

The emperor tried to calm them but verbal appeasement wasn't enough. Something had to be done, a show at least. For several days Pyotr fumed about how it was coming apart just when he was at the cusp of winning. He shook his head. Saying that he now had his fingers crossed that Admiral De Gaulte and his two eldest would get the job done and prove their fears unfounded was something he didn't want to admit, not even in the privacy of his own mind.

He finally authorized the Admiralty to release additional resources to fortify Dead Drop and Garth and to reinforce Admiral De Gaulte.

:::{)(}:::

Praetor Cartwright turned
Friar Tuck
around for a return trip to Dead Drop. She wouldn't be going alone however. The conversation the minister of war and some discussions with the emperor had gained him the permission to send more ships to Garth and Dead Drop to back up the Retribution Fleet. Since it was quite possible that Admiral De Gaulte would send back damaged ships to the yard in Dead Drop, he managed to scrape together a complement of personnel from the yards to help man and run them properly.

He knew that he wasn't sending the best yard dogs available, far from it. Most likely they were getting the ones that the directors and supervisors thought they could well do without: the layabouts, the misfits. That was fine; they'd work their tails off in this second chance he knew.

One thing that he and his staff did after a couple of skull sessions was dust off the GOTH plan for the star system. The Go To Hell plan hadn't been gone over in centuries. There had never seemed to be much of a need; the closest threats were from within, not from outside the solar system. For centuries the plan had existed in case the Xenos ever returned or a civil war forced the administration to flee. Now though, now it seemed prudent to keep that contingency plan in mind.

The admirals began long-term preparations for a possible evacuation of the star system. Only key personnel would go of course; there wouldn't be room for everyone. Instantly the plan was picked up by Imperial Intelligence. It was met with harsh resistance from the emperor and some of the ruling families. A few scoffed openly at the idea, sparking the emperor to call his generals and admirals in to his throne room to “discuss” their priorities.