She looked down at Percival, read the subtle signs on his posture, and knew that there was no point in saying anything. Percival knew the odds — at least the conventional odds — and he was clinging to them, yet… she could see that he felt fear. He knew Commander Walker, knew him far better than Penny; he knew that his enemy was a tactical genius. In his head, she realised, Percival was already defeated.
“Admiral,” the Duty Officer said. “There are nine superdreadnaughts, three battlecruisers, fifty-two cruisers of indeterminate class and a number of smaller ships, including a force of freighters. They’re advancing on Commodore William’s position as we speak.”
Penny nodded. Commodore William wasn’t known for being imaginative, but he was known as a safe pair of hands, someone who would never rise above command of a superdreadnaught squadron. Percival had granted him command of the forces assembled for Operation Purge because he would never seek to unseat his superior officer… unless, of course, that was an act. No one survived for years in the Imperial Navy without developing the remarkable skill of dissembling.
“Nine superdreadnaughts,” Percival repeated. “They are all in full working order?”
“As far as we can determine,” the Duty Officer said, carefully. Public Information’s version of the Battle of Greenland had five rebel superdreadnaughts battered to the point of near-uselessness. Questioning the official version could have terminated a career. “We are too far away for effective scans.”
“Order Commodore William to close with the enemy and destroy him,” Percival ordered, settling back in his chair. Penny wondered, in a moment of insight, if Percival had started to believe his own propaganda. He no longer looked defeated. The Imperial Navy had sixteen superdreadnaughts and supporting ships; the rebels had only nine, including some which might be too badly damaged to operate at full capacity. “They are to be destroyed!”
“All ships have arrived in the system,” the tactical officer said. “The enemy has detected our presence.”
Colin nodded. That hadn’t been unexpected. Camelot had the best sensor network in the system and, really, he hadn’t been trying to hide. He wanted Percival looking right at him. The main display was updating as the probes flared away from his ships, rocketing down towards the planet and the fleet forming up in a position to intercept his ships. The enemy didn’t know it, but the live feed from the probes was far superior to anything they could develop for themselves. Colin could practically count the scars on some of the superdreadnaught hulls facing him.
He’d run through a dozen different possibilities for Camelot’s defenders. In Percival’s place, he would have kept his ships near the planet and combined their point defence with that of the fixed defences. Even with arsenal ships, that would have been a hard nut to crack… which was part of the reason he’d shown Percival his hand so blatantly. If Percival wanted a decisive victory, Colin would offer him one, before snatching it out of reach.
“Deploy the fleet into Formation Alpha,” he ordered. Tension was running down his spine. What if there was something he had failed to take into account? What if he’d underestimated the opposition? The enemy commander he’d faced at Greenland had been smart, smart enough to be dangerous even without having a numerical advantage in superdreadnaughts. “Prepare to activate the drones.”
“All drones are linked into the datanet system,” the tactical officer confirmed. “They’re ready to go.”
Colin took a breath. It was important to appear calm and unworried — or so he’d been taught, back when he’d been a young and ruthlessly ambitious officer — even though they were sailing blithely towards certain destruction. He wondered what was going through Percival’s head, or even if Percival had quietly decided to board a gunboat and command the defence from the nearest star system. It didn’t matter. One way or another, the entire future of the Empire — if it would be reformed or if it would continue to decay until it collapsed from within — would be decided here.
“Open a channel,” he ordered. The communications tech nodded. As they’d planned, the message would be broadcast in clear, allowing Percival’s subordinates to hear it. “Admiral Percival, this is Admiral Walker, representing the Popular Front to Reform the Empire. You are ordered to stand down your ships and prepare to be boarded. Your time as commander of this sector is over.”
Colin smiled before he continued. If he knew Percival, the message would both infuriate and terrify him.
“…Speak now to the men and women on the defences,” the voice rolled on. “Ask yourself this; can the Empire long survive? Join us; join the one effort to reform the Empire, rather than breaking it up or…”
“Shut it off,” Percival ordered, harshly. The voice vanished from the command centre. Penny wondered, absently, if he had realised that everyone in the system was hearing the message. There was no way to jam the emergency channel, even if doing it hadn’t been a direct violation of Imperial Navy regulations. “Order Commodore William to continue his advance and engage the enemy.”
Penny looked down at him. “Admiral,” she said. “Do you not wish to make a response?”
“No,” Percival snarled. His face had purpled alarmingly. “I will make my response in missile fire!”
Penny nodded, bitterly. The rebels had offered to allow Percival to go anywhere he wanted, even all the way back to the Core Worlds, but that would be a disaster for the Admiral. His patrons would desert him, he would get the blame for the disaster and he would finish his days on a penal world, if they didn’t simply execute him for gross incompetence. The Roosevelt Family wouldn’t breathe a word in his defence. Penny doubted that anyone would even try to defend him. They’d want to bury him as quickly as possible before turning their attention to crushing the rebels.
She shook her head slowly. Percival was caught between two fires. Only destroying the rebel fleet — perhaps not even that — could save him from nemesis. He couldn’t even accept the rebel offer and hide somewhere in the Beyond.
To a man like Percival, being cut off from the Empire and its power structure would be a fate worse than death.
Colin sat back as he finished making his speech. He would have been astonished if Percival had surrendered, even after Colin had offered to guarantee his safety and free passage to anywhere he wanted to go in the Empire. Perhaps he didn’t trust Colin to keep his word. Hell, Colin wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to keep his word; having Percival in his hands would be a great temptation. He could draw his pistol and put a bullet through his head, or torture him to death, or even just crush his skull with his bare hands. The possibilities were endless.
He smiled and shook his head. They hadn’t won the battle yet. He watched the display as the enemy fleet started to pick up the pace, heading right towards Colin’s fleet on a least-time course. The red spheres that marked weapons range were growing closer. So far, not even the Geeks had been able to devise missiles with longer ranges than standard-issue Imperial Navy designs, although they swore that they were working on it. Colin suspected that they wouldn’t change the face of space warfare as much as might be expected, although they would make assaulting a planet easier.