“You said we’d be conducting exercises, Madam President?” Marphissa asked.
“That’s correct. Are all of the ground forces soldiers aboard?”
“Yes. One squad on each of the three heavy cruisers, and the three shuttles are stowed on the exteriors of the cruisers as well. They brought a lot of equipment and supplies with them.”
“Good. We’ll head out toward one of the jump points and put the warships and soldiers through their paces to make sure everyone is still sharp and practice coordinated actions.” That was the sort of thing CEOs routinely did, making people run in circles to show they could, so no one would question it.
“Which jump point?”
Iceni settled herself in her seat on the cruiser’s bridge. Midway had a lot of jump points for other stars, eight to be exact. It was that and not population or wealth or industrial capability that gave Midway its name and made Midway a valuable and important star system. It had also earned the star system a hypernet gate, which in turn made the system even more valuable.
One of those jump points led to a star named Pele. That was the jump point the Alliance fleet had used not too long ago on its way to learn more about the alien enigma race. Except for occasional futile attempts to gain information about the enigmas, no Syndicate Worlds’ ships had made that jump for more than half a century. When the enigmas had attacked the Midway Star System, they had appeared at that jump point.
As she looked at the representation on her display of the jump point for Pele, Iceni remembered what Togo had told her concerning Colonel Morgan. Which star system had it been, she wondered, where Morgan had almost died? It struck Iceni then that Morgan’s life had been shadowed by terrible events, yet at the same time Morgan had repeatedly been so fortunate that luck alone didn’t seem enough to explain her survival until now, let alone her status with Drakon.
Have the living stars looked out for you, Colonel Morgan? But, then, why have they also been so cruel to you?
There were no answers to those questions—there were never any answers to questions like that—and Sub-CEO Marphissa was awaiting instructions. Iceni pretended to study her display for a moment, then waved in the general direction of two of the jump points, one of which led to Taroa and the other to Kane. “Head that way.”
The closest of those two jump points, that for Kane, was out past the orbit of the last planet in the star system, a frozen ball of gas and rock mockingly nicknamed Hotel for the abandoned research facility sitting vacant on it. That put it almost six and a half light-hours distant from where Iceni’s flotilla sat. At point one light, they could cover that distance in sixty-five hours, or almost three days. But charging toward the jump point at that velocity would attract attention. Was it riskier to attract that attention or to spend twice as long getting there at a more routine point zero five speed? Put that way, it didn’t seem wise to loiter on the way to the jump point. Every minute might count.
“All warships are at maximum fuel state?” Iceni asked. Her flotilla status readout showed that they were, but no one could trust those figures. Unit commanders routinely gun-decked the real numbers in order to look better. A good flotilla commander found ways to keep track of the actual data despite that.
“Yes. Ninety-eight to ninety-nine percent fuel status for all units,” Marphissa replied immediately.
“Then let’s see how well these units can sustain acceleration,” Iceni announced. “Bring formation velocity to point one light and hold it there.”
The small flotilla surged into motion as their main propulsion units lit off. Iceni watched them accelerate, her attention mainly for C-818. That heavy cruiser’s main propulsion units, badly damaged during the battle with Kolani, had just recently been declared fully repaired.
They weren’t.
“What’s the matter with C-818?” Iceni asked in a deceptively mild voice as the heavy cruiser lagged farther and farther behind the other warships.
Marphissa had already been checking the same thing. “C-818’s commander says the propulsion units are only putting out sixty percent of maximum. They were all supposedly tested at one hundred percent when repaired.”
At least they were still near the planet. Iceni called Togo. “Whoever certified the repairs on the main propulsion units on C-818 is either incompetent or corrupt. Find out who that individual was and make an example of that person.”
“How strong an example? Should I have them shot?”
She really hated finding out someone had failed totally in their responsibilities. “If it was a matter of corruption, yes. If it was incompetence, bust that person down to the lowest-level dirt sweeper.”
“Those speaking for the citizens have been agitating for the courts and legal system to become a functioning justice system,” Togo pointed out. “A summary execution might help them win wider support for that idea among the other citizens.”
Why did the simplest things have to be made difficult? “Fine. Incompetence is an internal disciplinary issue and not subject to the courts by Syndicate law, which we have yet to alter. If your investigation finds corruption instead, give the individual a quick trial, then have them shot.”
That took care of that aspect of the problem, but it didn’t help C-818. “Sub-CEO Marphissa, order C-818 to return to orbit about the planet and respond to orders from… General Drakon until I return.”
“General Drakon?” Spotting an already-annoyed Iceni’s reaction to the question, Marphissa quickly saluted. “I shall inform them of your orders immediately, Madam President.”
“And tell them to get those propulsion units fixed properly!”
“Yes, Madam President.”
Iceni glowered at her display, letting her bad mood settle around her like a dark halo. Without C-818, she had only three heavy cruisers left. There were also the four light cruisers and seven of the Hunter-Killers, but that made for a ridiculously small force to assault a battleship that might have substantial defenses and armaments already activated.
At least the HuKs sent to Taroa and Kahiki had returned in time to accompany her. If nothing else, they might provide targets for the battleship long enough for some of the other warships to get in damaging shots.
But the HuK she had sent to Lono hadn’t made it back yet, and it should have. What had happened at Lono? One more thing to worry about.
“Madam President?”
Iceni swiveled her head like a gun turret to focus on Sub-CEO Marphissa. “What?”
“Can I provide our units with an estimate for the duration of this activity?” Marphissa asked carefully.
“Is there any problem with supplies on any of the units?”
“No, Madam President. All units are prepared for extended operations.” Marphissa eyed her before adding one more thing. “All weapons are also at maximum.”
“Good.” In that respect, things were as good as they could be. And she had Marphissa to thank for keeping the warships in readiness. “You’ve done well. Effective immediately, you are confirmed as flotilla commander until further notice.”
“I—thank you, Madam President.”
Iceni found herself smiling thinly at Marphissa. “Don’t thank me until you learn what I’m going to expect of you in that position.”