“I don’t think we have a choice,” Colin said. “The base is in poor condition, according to the defectors, but given time they could turn it into a proper threat. And there are at least four squadrons of various starships stationed there. I’d prefer to destroy or capture them before we press onwards against Morrison.”
“They might just cut the ships loose,” Damiani pointed out. “We don’t need more raiders in our rear.”
“Or send them back to Morrison,” Colin agreed. All of his projections indicated that the Empire would make a stand at Morrison. It was the best place to face the rebel fleet, if they could mass enough superdreadnaughts in place to give Colin a bloody nose. Besides, they’d know as well as Colin did that he had to obliterate Morrison before he could advance on Earth. “No, we have to go after them as soon as possible.”
He tapped a switch, bringing up the latest intelligence reports. Tyson wasn’t an unusual military base, but there was a surprisingly large commercial presence too. Four orbital fortresses guarded a number of asteroid settlements, orbital industrial notes and a pair of small shipyards, as well as a heavily inhabited planet. And, unlike most of the other worlds Colin had occupied, it could be counted upon to remain loyal to the Empire.
There are five separate families involved, he thought, remembering how he’d worked his way through the intelligence summaries. They’re actually competing for manpower, so they can’t squeeze the population too tightly.
“Tyson will also require a heavier occupation force than any prior world,” he stated. How would the locals react when the rebels arrived? Would they stay neutral, join up with the rebels or actually remain loyal to the Empire? There was no way to know. “But I don’t want to secure the surface, beyond the planetary defence centres. We don’t want a repeat of Jackson’s Folly.”
“No,” Daria agreed. “Our reputation would not survive.”
Colin nodded. Jackson’s Folly hadn’t been saved by the mutinies. Admiral Percival had deployed a second squadron of superdreadnaughts to bring the planet to heel, which they’d done in characteristically brutal fashion, destroying the local defence force with ease. And then they’d landed Blackshirts… and the insurgency had begun. By the time Colin had liberated Jackson’s Folly for the second time, both sides had inflicted horrendous damage on each other. But the Empire had been winning the war.
They didn’t really care about the Blackshirts, Colin reminded himself, sternly. As far as they were concerned, they were expendable. There were plenty more where they came from. But we couldn’t afford those losses, even if we didn’t care about giving the Empire a propaganda victory. And we don’t really have to try.
He looked up at Damiani. “I want you to raid through the systems surrounding Tyson,” he ordered. “Don’t try to take and hold territory, just see if you can make enough of a nuisance of yourself that they send ships from Tyson to try and stop you. Anything that weakens the base’s defences might come in handy. Broadcast our standard call to arms as you approach each system — there may be some rebels there, willing to join us.”
“Understood,” Damiani said. He looked up at the star chart, mentally calculating travel times. “It will be a week before we’re in position to attack the first world.”
“I’ll move the main fleet to here,” Colin said, tapping a point a bare two light years from Tyson. “That should give us time to gather intelligence before we jump into the system itself. We can’t count on them simply surrendering when they see us approach, not here. I’d be surprised if they weren’t trying to rush reinforcements to Tyson already.”
“We really do need that FTL communicator,” Daria agreed. “It would be so much easier if our intelligence wasn’t out of date by the time we received it.”
Colin nodded. The only bonus was that the Imperial Navy would be in a worse state. By now, he was sure, Colin’s original message to the Empire had reached every last corner of the towering edifice, calling the discontented and the oppressed to war. There was still a trickle of starships coming in to join the rebel forces, starships that had mutinied against their commanding officers. Sooner or later, Colin knew, that would stop. The Empire would station Marines on every ship, preventing future mutinies. But everyone would know that mutinies were now possible…
He scowled. The closer they got to Earth, the faster the Empire could react to their presence — and the longer it took to ship supplies from the Rim to the fleet. Thankfully, the Geeks had built up huge stockpiles, but Colin had already made capturing Imperial Navy supply dumps a priority. But the Imperial Navy had to know that too. Colin wouldn’t be surprised to know that Tyson and Morrison had orders to destroy their supplies before falling into rebel hands.
If I’d been in their shoes, he thought, I’d make sure such orders were issued — and obeyed.
“And if wishes were fishes, we would all be splashing around in the sea,” Colin said, ruefully. “We’ll just have to make do with what we have.”
“Yes, sir,” Damiani said. “Speaking of which, I will return to my ships and supervise the reloading.”
“Inform me when you are ready to depart,” Colin ordered. “And good luck.”
He watched Damiani withdraw, then turned to look at Daria. “How is morale holding up?”
“So far, so good,” Daria said. “The real test will come when we face our first significant defeat.”
Colin nodded. The Shadow Fleet had been mouse-trapped once before — it had been a relief to discover that Commodore Brent-Cochrane had been killed at Second Camelot — and he knew it was quite possible that it could happen again. Just because Admiral Percival hadn’t been able to find his ass with both hands, a full sensor suite and someone screaming the instructions into his ear didn’t mean that the other Imperial Navy officers were incompetent. Maybe their main qualification for high rank had been ass-kissing, but they might be equally capable at kicking ass.
And which side would I be on, Colin asked himself, if Percival had promoted me instead of seeing me as a threat?
The thought reminded him that he hadn’t seen the evils of the Empire, not really. He had officers and men under him who had, men and women who had seen the worst and sworn not to tolerate it any longer, but the younger Colin had been a prideful ass, more intent on winning promotion and reward for his talents than any moral or ethical concerns Would he have turned a blind eye, he asked himself, if Percival had given Colin the rewards he’d been promised? He’d been far too self-centred in those days. Hell, even the mutiny had been more about taking the rewards he’d earned than anything else.
He looked back at the star chart and shivered. Morrison, by his calculations, would provide the first major test of the expanded fleet. If they lost the battle, they might lose the war. And he had no illusions about what the Empire would do to the worlds Colin had liberated. Local leaders would be butchered, taxes would be raised higher and massive occupation forces would be shipped in to keep the populations firmly under control. They would never have a hope of freedom again.
Or the Empire itself might collapse. Colin saw it all, in his mind’s eye. The economy would go, taking with it the strands that bound the Empire together. Entire star systems would be impoverished, military commanders would become warlords, Earth and hundreds of other worlds would starve… and the whole human race would fall into an endless night. It wasn’t enough to destroy the Empire, he reminded himself. He had to replace it with something better, something reformed enough to give everyone a stake in the system.