Aware that some of her inner turmoil must have been showing, Iceni put on a mask of straightforward thoughtfulness. “I was just contemplating our formation and whether I should change it if we have to fight.”
“I think that depends on the status of the battleship,” Marphissa suggested.
She was right. Iceni nodded. “I’ll make the decision when I have the necessary information.”
So far, though, necessary information seemed to be in short supply in the Kane Star System.
This time, “CEO Reynard” had on a more aggressive front, perhaps because Iceni’s flotilla was only five hours’ travel time from the mobile forces facility by the time the message from him was received. “CEO Janusa, access to the mobile forces facility has been restricted by order of the Syndicate Worlds. You are required to divert your flotilla from its current course and proceed to the second planet, where your supply needs will be met, after which you can proceed on your missions outside this star system. Failure to comply with this direction will constitute disobedience to a directive of the Syndicate Worlds. For the people, Reynard, out.”
Iceni considered her reply. Events were reaching the point at which decisions would take on momentum that would be hard to alter in the time remaining. What would most likely produce the reactions she needed from the people in Kane, and in particular those in the warships in the other flotilla?
“It is time to announce our true colors,” Iceni said to the others on the bridge before she triggered her own comm controls to broadcast. This time, she deactivated the avatar so that everyone would see her true appearance.
“People of the Kane Star System, this is President Iceni of the independent star system of Midway. Midway has thrown off the yoke of the Syndicate Worlds and no longer answers to the CEOs of the weak, corrupt, and incompetent government on Prime. As the Syndicate Worlds crumbles, it is time for the star systems of this region to join together for mutual protection and support, so we can follow those courses of action in our best interests rather than the orders of distant masters who represent a failed approach. Distant rulers who would take our wealth, demand our obedience in all things, and give nothing in return. Only we can defend ourselves. Only we can ensure the safety of our homes.
“The ISS at Midway has been wiped out. We are no longer forced to bow to the snakes. I urge you to join us. My flotilla will support your struggle. To any who still wish to follow the decrees issued by the dead hand of the Syndicate Worlds, I tell you not to seek to hinder our movements or actions. We will fight, and we will win. For the people, Iceni, out.”
She turned to Marphissa. “Contact the other flotilla again. You personally. I want them to hear from someone else in a mobile forces command role talking directly to them.”
“Yes, Madam President.” Marphissa sat silent for several seconds, then activated her own comms. “Warships of the Kane flotilla, this is Kommodor Marphissa of the Midway flotilla. Join with us to defend this region against aggression and disorder, join with us to defend all that we hold dear. We truly fight for our people now. If you choose not to join with forces of the independent star system of Midway, you must avoid any fight with us, or we will annihilate you. For the people, Marphissa, out.”
The messages were going out at the speed of light, but it would take them a while to reach their destinations. “In about half an hour, when our messages reach the other flotilla, all hell is going to start breaking loose in this star system,” Marphissa predicted.
“I wish I could see the reaction on the second planet when the messages get there,” Iceni replied. “The important thing is that it will take an hour and a half for my message to reach that planet, and another hour and a half for any response from the planetary authorities to reach the warships in the other flotilla. They’ll have nearly three hours to make up their own minds on what to do before they receive orders from their bosses on the second planet.”
There was nothing left to do then but sit and watch. Iceni didn’t want to be distracted when something finally did happen, so she avoided the urge to pull up some work documents or a novel or a twitch-and-move game and instead just stared at her display. She discovered that hitting one command produced an expanding sphere image that represented the message she had sent, spreading at the speed of light through the star system. On a display covering such a wide area, the bubble appeared to move slowly but steadily, sweeping across installations, planets, warships, and merchant ships. Iceni got a kick out of seeing when her message actually arrived at each location.
But she wouldn’t have any idea what their reactions would be until the light from those movements reached her. Iceni found she could activate reaction bubbles, showing how long it would take her to see such activity, but the swarm of expanding bubbles quickly merged into a welter of foam in which it was too hard to make out individual expansion waves. She wiped out that option, couldn’t seem to locate a simpler one, and glowered at the display. I will not be one of those clueless CEOs who can’t carry out simple functions without some lowest-level untrained worker showing me how to enter the commands. I’ll just work it out in my head. Thirty light-minutes to the other flotilla. That means thirty minutes until they received the messages from us, during which time we get three light-minutes closer to them at point one light speed. Then the light showing their reaction needs to come back to us, which will take… about twenty-five, twenty-six minutes as we keep closing on them. Close to an hour, even if those other warships react immediately.
Space is too damned big.
“Vector changes on the other flotilla.”
The announcement by the maneuvering specialist jerked Iceni out of the light nap she had dropped into without realizing it. Blinking away sleep, she tried to make out the movement on her display.
“Coming around toward an intercept on us,” Marphissa commented. “We’ll have to see where they steady out, but I’d bet that they’re coming toward us.”
“But why are they coming toward us?” Iceni demanded. Everything had once been easy. If they were Alliance warships and they came toward you, it meant they wanted to fight. If they were Syndicate warships, they wanted to join up. But now Alliance warships might be friendly, Syndicate warships were likely to be hostile, and she didn’t even know who these warships were answering to, let alone if they were readying for a fight. “Kommodor Marphissa, if we have not heard anything from that other flotilla within the next five minutes, you are to inform them that we will destroy them as soon as they enter weapons range.”
“The Kane flotilla is steadying out at point one light speed, on a direct intercept with us,” the maneuvering watch reported. “Time to contact, two hours and twenty-one minutes.”
“Still no battleship,” Iceni muttered.
“They may not have one,” Marphissa said.
“Then why do they want to keep us away from that gas giant?”
The warning went out, but still no reply. Iceni sat watching the distance close, her irritation rising with every second that passed without any communication from the other flotilla. Even if they say they want to join us now, I think I’ll still order them to be blown away.
“Incoming message.” The comms specialist paused. “It’s not from the flotilla.”
“Show me,” Iceni ordered.
A window opened to show a junior officer standing on what was clearly the bridge of a battleship. If the sub-CEO on the mobile forces facility had shown only normal levels of stress, this executive was clearly in far worse straits. His uniform showed signs of having been worn for days or weeks, his face was lean in a way that evoked thoughts of very limited rations, and his eyes held an almost feverish intensity. “This is Sub-Executive Kontos, acting commander of the mobile forces unit B-78, to… to… President Iceni.” Kontos paused to lick his lips and clear his throat as if speaking distinctly was an effort.