Rumors of Glory (The System States Rebellion Book 1) (10 page)

“You’re welcome, General. Are we done here?”

Trojan nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll be on my way.”

Chenko watched him leave and thought,
Dammit, that
blasted machine is probably right.
Sending the bulk of our remaining
fleet in now would be one hell of dice roll. Maybe I should argue against it.

                                                   
* * *

Drake stepped into the Captain’s quarters on board the
Valley Forge and looked around. He was surprised to find that it wasn’t really
all that much bigger than the CO’s quarters on his missile boat. The only
difference was the addition of space for a large table and chairs suitable for
inviting his officers for dinner. Considering that it would be almost half a
year before the ship came back to Sparta, he supposed that being able to share
a meal with his officers now and then in the privacy of his quarters might not
be a bad thing. He decided he might as well get settled in.

Dropping his luggage by the entrance to the bedroom, he
said, “Comp, this is Commander Roland Drake. I’m formally assuming command of
this ship. Do you acknowledge this change of command?”

“Voice pattern recognized. You now have command of the
ship.”

“Is the XO aboard yet?” asked Drake.

“Negative.”

Drake took a deep breath. His new XO wasn’t late yet, but
reporting for duty early was a good way to impress your CO when you’ve just
been promoted and assigned as Executive Officer of one of the few cruisers the
SSU had right now. That’s what Drake would have done if he were in that
position.

“Notify me when the XO comes aboard. Right now I want to
hear my orders for this deployment.”

“Acknowledged. Logged orders as received six hours
twenty-four minutes ago from the Office of Chief of Space Operations as
follows. Valley Forge will proceed to the Dresden star system. Once there the
ship will operate covertly without an active transponder ID in order to
intercept and capture a civilian ship. Upon capturing such a vessel, both ships
will return to Sparta as quickly as possible. Valley Forge is to avoid combat
with armed Federation vessels. Do not attempt to capture any ship if doing so
entails a significant risk of combat. Return to Sparta no later than 180 days
after departure. End of orders.”

One hundred eighty days. Drake hoped that Lor got the
handwritten note he had left for the guards to give to her. If the SSU went
ahead with his prisoner exchange idea and the FEDs agreed, it was entirely
possible that Lor would be gone by the time he got back. It was hard to figure
out what they had between them with the lack of privacy plus where their
loyalties lay. He didn’t know if either of them would feel the same if it was
years before they met again, but he wanted her to know that he hadn’t given up
on the idea of a relationship with her. Duty had gotten in the way of that
before the rebellion, when they were on the same side. How much harder would
the relationship be if they were fighting a war on opposite sides? Well,
there’d be plenty of time on this trip for woolgathering. Getting this ship
ready to depart on schedule should be uppermost on his mind now. He had never
commanded a cruiser before. It was about time he started learning how.

“Comp, is the LO on board yet?”

“Affirmative, the Logistics Officer is currently on deck
two.”

Probably supervising the loading of supplies.
That’s a good place for me to start,
thought Drake.

Remington returned to her cell after the evening meal and
saw a small piece of folded paper on her bunk. She picked it up as she sat
down. When she unfolded it, she recognized Drake’s handwriting.

Just in case you’re no longer here when I get back, I want
you to know that I believe our paths will cross again someday, somewhere. R

When she looked up she saw the Security Commander looking
at her from outside her cell.

“Your boyfriend’s gone on a mission. I’m tempted to take
advantage of his absence, but I won’t unless you cause trouble. You’re lucky he
dropped that off on a day when I’m in a good mood, otherwise you would have
never seen that note at all. Remember what I said.” Without waiting for a
reply, he turned and walked away.

Day 149/2540

Stacker entered the Council Chamber and saw that Chenko
was already there and seated at one of the tables in the front. Their eyes met
briefly, and then the Navy Chief of Staff looked away. The lack of
acknowledgement told Stacker that he was still in Chenko’s doghouse, but he
didn’t care. He hadn’t risen to the one-star rank of Commodore on merit alone.
Making and carefully cultivating political connections had been just as
important, and a few of those political connections had been able to say the
right things to some of the Council members. This was going to be an
interesting session. He took a seat two rows back from where Chenko was
sitting.

It was another half hour before the session started.
Stacker waited patiently for the usual self-serving, introductory speeches to
be over and then leaned forward as the Council started on their agenda. The
first item was a report by the Navy Chief of Staff on the status of short and
long-term plans to respond to the rebellion.

Chenko rose and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Mr.
Chairman, for this opportunity to update the Council on our progress to date.
I’ll start with the short-term and finish with a status report on the Master
Plan that this Council approved several months ago. We are making good progress
on vetting every officer and enlisted person in the Navy. We’ve already
identified and discharged 556 individuals who failed the verifier tests and
were therefore considered to be insufficiently committed to the principles and
institutions that make up the Federation. As expected, this is causing some
shortages of skills and experience, but we’re in the process of managing that.
While not all of the discharged personnel came from one ship, total vetting
losses among ships’ crews are equal to the equivalent of one cruiser
complement. Once we’ve vetted crews from a few more ships, we’ll be in a better
position to shift people around to fill the gaps. We can then start to send out
fully-manned ships to visit planets that haven’t seen a Navy ship in a while.
By showing the flag, so to speak, we—"

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Admiral, but since you’ve
brought up the subject of ships sitting idle at the Navy spaceport, this seems
to be a good time to bring up another topic for discussion. How many cruisers
are on Earth right now, Admiral?” asked the Chairman.

Chenko recovered from his surprise quickly. “At the
moment we have three patrol-class cruisers here, sir.”

“And how many more would you expect to arrive over the
next oh, say 20 days?”

Chenko frowned. He didn’t like where this was going.
“Well, Mr. Chairman, as you know, we’re in the process of recalling all of our
cruisers, but it’s difficult to know exactly where they all are at any given
point in time. Therefore I can only give you an estimate that ranges from two
to perhaps as many as four additional cruisers arriving over that time period.”

“So in three weeks you might have eight cruisers sitting
on the ground. Is that right, Admiral?”

“That’s correct, sir. May I ask what—“

“I’m asking because the Council has heard that the Navy
has been or is considering another strike mission against the Rebel government
on Sparta with a minimum of eight cruisers. Is that the case?”

Stacker, you asshole.
Chenko
counted to five to calm down before answering. “We did examine that kind of
mission, and we’ve determined that deploying half of our remaining cruiser
strength on a mission for which they were not designed would be too risky, Mr.
Chairman.”

“I see. Is that your personal opinion as well, Admiral?”

You bastard. You heard that I was initially
in favor of that mission and now you’re going to use that against me.

“I was initially in favor of that mission, Mr. Chairman,
but after listening to my planning staff’s carefully thought-out analysis, I became
convinced that the potential gains are more than offset by the potential loses,
both material and human, as well as by the indirect losses of more planets
joining the rebellion if the mission should fail.”

“Tell me, Admiral. Was your planning staff unanimous in
recommending against the mission?”

Chenko gritted his teeth.
Where is he getting all this
information? Is it all coming from Stacker?
“No, sir. There were a couple
of less experienced officers who were convinced that we should roll the dice, regardless
of the consequences.”

“I see. I notice that you’re not the only flag officer in
the room today, Admiral. Commodore Stacker, I’d like to hear your opinion of
the eight-ship strike mission.”

Chenko kept his expression under tight control as he turned
around to look at Stacker.

“I’m pleased to be able to answer that question, Mr.
Chairman. In my opinion, while it’s unlikely that the strike force would not
suffer any losses at all, I believe that the possibility of losing a
significant percentage of the attacking force is equally unlikely.”

“Do you believe that the impact on the Rebellion of a
successful mission justifies the expected level of casualties, Commodore?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Would you have any reservations about leading that kind
of mission yourself?”

“As long as I had complete freedom to conduct that
mission as I saw fit, I would have no reservations or hesitation about leading
the mission, Mr. Chairman.”

“Thank you, Commodore. Now, Admiral Chenko, in light of
what we’ve just heard, do you still believe that this mission is unwise? If so,
please justify that view.”

Chenko had seen enough Council sessions to recognize when
the fix was in. If he stuck to his stance and the mission was a success, his
credibility about future missions would be severely damaged. On the other hand,
if he caved in and the mission suffered unacceptable losses, the Council would
blame him for being indecisive.

“All other things being equal, Mr. Chairman, I’d rather
that we didn’t conduct this kind of mission now. However, if the Council
decides to instruct the Navy to carry out this kind of mission, then I could
support that decision if the Mission Commander were given strict guidelines on
how to conduct the mission. For example, if the Strike Force were ordered to
stay outside the hyperzone, so that they could jump away if necessary, then
unacceptable losses could be avoided. Furthermore…”

The session lasted another 90 minutes, and then the
Council adjourned the public meeting in order to meet privately. When the
public session was resumed after lunch, the Council announced its decision.
Chenko noticed that the Chairman refused to look at him as he read from the
document in front of him.

“After careful consideration, it is the unanimous opinion
of this Council that the Navy should undertake a strike mission against Sparta
as soon as eight patrol cruisers can be assembled and made ready. Furthermore,
the Council has decided that this strike mission should be under the command of
Commodore James Stacker, and that he should be given the widest possible leeway
to achieve his mission objectives as he sees fit. Chief of Staff Admiral Chenko
is hereby directed to make all necessary preparations in order for this mission
to proceed as quickly as possible.” The Chairman looked up at Chenko. “Admiral,
do you have any comments for the record at this time?”

Chenko thought fast. This kind of micro-management by the
Council, determining mission orders and choosing the Field Commander, was
unheard of. If he let it pass, it would seriously undermine his authority as
the Head of the Navy. The Council had carefully maneuvered the issue away from
whether the attack was a good idea or not to who should lead it and what orders
that person should be given. In point of fact, they had drawn a line in the
sand and had dared him to cross it. He thought about General Trojan, Oracle and
the Master Plan. That was the only way they were going to win this war and keep
the Federation intact. Stacker was leading the Council down the wrong path for
his own personal aggrandizement, and Chenko wanted nothing to do with that.
There was no way he was going to be able to change the Council’s mind now. His
choice was simple. Either acquiesce to the Council’s stupidity or cross the
line. He made his decision.

“Mr. Chairman, members of the Council, it is my
professional opinion that this decision to attack Sparta now, under the terms
specified by the Council, is dangerous and ill-advised. I cannot in good
conscience obey this directive, and therefore I will be submitting my
resignation to the Council before the day is over.” He could see from the
Council members’ expressions that they hadn’t expected that. The resulting
confusion and hasty whispered consultations would have been comical if the
situation hadn’t been so serious. Finally a grim-looking Chairman leaned
forward and speared Chenko with his gaze.

“Speaking on behalf of myself and the other Council
members, I find it regrettable, Admiral, that you have decided to withdraw your
services at this crucial time, but if you submit your resignation, it WILL be
accepted. The session is now adjourned.”

Chenko remained seated. He didn’t want to leave the room
at the same time as the Council members. When they were all gone, he stood up
to find Stacker standing beside him.

“They called your bluff,” said Stacker.

Chenko looked at him with as much contempt as he was able
to show. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Commodore Stacker?”

Stacker sighed. “They called your bluff, SIR.”

Chenko smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. “That’s
better. You’re assuming I was bluffing. I wasn’t. This mission will end badly,
but I won’t be around to be used as a scapegoat by the Council when they
realize how you’ve led them down the primrose path. They’re going to be looking
for someone to blame, and with me gone, guess who’ll be left, assuming you
survive the mission, that is?”

Stacker shook his head. “They can’t blame me. I’m just
following their orders.”

“What orders? They’re giving you eight cruisers and a
goddamned blank check! If you fuck up, it’s all on you, Commodore.”

Stacker’s face became pale. “Well in that case, I’ll just
have to make sure I don’t fuck up, won’t I, SIR?”

As Stacker turned and started walking away, Chenko said,
“Oh yes, you will.”

As soon as he got back to his office, Chenko dictated his
letter of resignation, making sure he spelled out the reasons why, and told his
desk Comp to send it to the Council. Since the resignation became effective at
midnight, he stayed until early evening dealing with time-urgent matters that
couldn’t wait until his replacement was appointed. As he left his inner office,
he saw Generals Masterson and Trojan standing in the outer office. It was
obvious why they had come.

“I see the grapevine is working even faster than usual
today,” said Chenko.

Masterson nodded. “General Trojan and I heard the news a
few minutes ago. I have to say, Sergei, that was a gutsy move. I didn’t know
you had balls that big.”

“Thanks, Frank. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“So this new mission is going ahead then, Admiral?” asked
Trojan.

“Afraid so, General, and after Stacker manages to lose
most of his squadron, the Federation Navy will be down to less than half the
fleet we had a few months ago. A dozen or so ships to try to hold the lid on
over 500 colonized planets. Tell me something, General Trojan. Just how good
will this new super-Oracle device really be? Can it still win the war after we
shoot ourselves in the face?”

Trojan smiled. “Oh yes. Even if we didn’t bring the
Franklin Tri-system on line for the mass production of ships, tanks, etc., we’d
still win. Even if the Federation Navy were outnumbered, we’d STILL win!
Majestic will be worth a hundred of the new battleships, all by itself.”

“Then thank God we’ll have it, and the SSU won’t,” said
Chenko.

“Amen to that, Sergei,” said Masterson. After an awkward
pause, he continued, “It’s too bad you won’t be around to see the huge buildup
in the Fleet.”