“No, I wouldn’t,” Harahap acknowledged. “First though, have the weapons shipments gotten through all right?”
“Yeah.” Indiana nodded. “You took us by surprise by getting the first one in here so quickly, but everything’s worked like clockwork so far. We’ve gotten them out of the capital to a secure location, too. And we’ve started establishing secondary weapons caches now.” He shrugged slightly. “We’re still working out the best way to handle training our people, and I won’t pretend we wouldn’t like to have more guns to go around, but we’re in a lot better shape than I would’ve believed we could’ve been a few months ago.”
“Do you have an actual plan to use them?” Harahap asked, looking at Mackenzie this time, and she shrugged.
“We’ve got a long-range plan, a short-range plan, and at least a dozen contingency plans,” she said.
“What kind of timetable are you looking at?”
“For the long-range plan?” She snorted. “Try two or three T-years.”
“That’s not so good,” Harahap said.
“Depends on what you mean by ‘good,’” she responded. “It would take two or three T-years, yeah, but we figure the odds of success, even without fleet support from the Star Empire, would be three or four to one.”
“I can see where that would appeal to you,” he conceded. “On the other hand, a lot of things can change—or go wrong—in that long, which means odds can shift a lot. So what’s the time frame for your short-range plan?”
Indiana and Mackenzie looked at each other for a moment, then turned back to him.
“A minimum of ninety T-days,” Mackenzie said flatly. “A hundred and twenty would be a lot better. And, frankly, our chances of success without outside support would suck.”
“Um.” Harahap frowned down into his water glass for several seconds before he looked back up.
“Okay, cards on the table time. I don’t have complete information myself, I’m sure you both understand why that’s the case. But what I’ve been told is that the current strategic position is very favorable for our side. The problem is that like I just said, things can change, sometimes quickly. From what they’re telling me, I’m guessing—and it’s only a guess, not the kind of thing anyone would be confirming to someone at my level—that the Admiralty’s thinking in terms of going onto the offensive now that they’ve kicked the Sollies’ butts in Manticore.
“The reason I say that is that they want to accelerate all of the liberation movements we’ve been supporting. Not just you guys—all of them. Now, for some of them, that would be nothing short of outright suicide at this point, and in their cases I’m recommending that they don’t do anything of the sort. I’m not sure my bosses would be delighted to hear about that.” He smiled tightly. “On the other hand, my bosses aren’t out here, and I am. And, frankly, I don’t see where sending someone off half-cocked and getting them wiped out before we can get them any support is going to help anybody very much.”
He shrugged and took a sip of water, giving them time to absorb the fact that nice-guy Firebrand was looking out for them.
“At the same time, though,” he continued, lowering the glass again, “I can see where raising all the hell we possibly can in the Sollies’ backyard would work to everyone’s advantage. Especially if I’m right, and the Admiralty is planning on kicking in the League’s front door. In fact—”
He paused, obviously considering what he was about to say, then shrugged.
“Beowulf didn’t let the Sollies through the Beowulf Terminus to support the attack on the home system,” he said softly. “Instead, they’ve signed on with us.” He smiled thinly. “That means we’ve got a protected avenue directly into the heart of the Core Worlds. I think the Admiralty’s planning on using it, too. But when they do, they want the Sollies looking over their shoulder. Given what’s already happened to Battle Fleet, the League is probably going to have to call in Frontier Fleet units to reinforce closer to home. What I think my bosses have in mind is to make such a ruckus out here in the Verge that OFS won’t turn loose a damned thing without kicking and screaming the whole way.”
“Beowulf’s sided with the Star Empire?” Indiana asked half-incredulously. His knowledge of astrography outside a twenty or thirty-light-year radius of Seraphim wasn’t exactly profound, but he knew Beowulf was no more than a T-week or so from the Sol System itself for a ship with a military grade hyper generator and particle screens.
“That’s what the dispatches say, and, frankly, it’s the only way we could know what happened in the home system this quickly,” Harahap pointed out. He shrugged. “Only way the home office could’ve gotten a dispatch boat out here this fast would have been through the Beowulf Terminus, which suggests to me that—”
He shrugged again, holding up one hand, palm uppermost, and Indiana nodded slowly.
“So just how soon would ‘your bosses’ like us to start raising a ‘ruckus’ here in Seraphim, Firebrand?” Mackenzie asked, her eyes narrow.
“As soon as you feel you possibly could,” Harahap replied. “Hopefully within the next three T-months or so.”
“Ninety T-days, in other words,” she said flatly.
“Yes,” he said.
“And you can get us naval support in that timeframe?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“How?” Her tone was a bit skeptical. “I’m as excited about the possibility as Indy is, Firebrand. But if your navy’s going to be going directly after Sol, how is any of it supposed to make its way all the way out here?”
“It’s not.” He shook his head. “What’s going to happen is that Admiral Gold Peak is about to launch an offensive out of the Talbott Cluster in the next month or so.” He met Mackenzie’s eyes levelly, confident in his ability to lie convincingly. “Her main objective is going to be the Madras Sector,” he continued, blithely ignoring the fact that Gold Peak almost certainly wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. “That’s going to require most of her heavy units, but it should leave plenty of cruisers and destroyers available for…other duties, let’s say. Like turning up here in Seraphim to provide you with some orbital support. And to make sure Frontier Fleet doesn’t provide any orbital support to McCready and O’Sullivan.”
Mackenzie looked at him for several moments before, finally, she nodded slowly. It actually made sense, she thought. Assuming Gold Peak managed to meet the schedule Harahap had described. And assuming there was some way to coordinate properly.
“Do you need an answer tonight?” she asked.
“To be honest, I’d prefer one as soon as possible,” Harahap said, and this time he was telling the truth. “On the other hand, I know this came at you completely cold, and the last thing either of us needs is for you to rush into something that’s just going to get you all killed without accomplishing anything for us. I’ll be on-planet for another couple of days, so you’ve got that long to think about it, but then I’m going to have to move on to my next destination.”
“I don’t know if we can have a decision for you that quickly,” Indiana put in. He looked across the table at his sister, then back at Harahap. “We’d be putting a lot of people at risk, and we’re going to have to go back and evaluate the assumptions of our contingency plans.”
“I can understand that. But if I head out of the Seraphim System, I take your communications link with me.” He grimaced. “Once I’m out of here, I won’t be able to communicate with Admiral Gold Peak to warn her you’re planning to move.”
“We might be able to work around that,” Mackenzie said slowly, and Harahap’s eyebrows rose. He hadn’t expected to hear that.