I’d been listening carefully. A kilometer in diameter and bristling with lasers, particle beams and missiles, Nemesis carried fifty Strengl in-system fighters, an equal number of Wasp long-range fighters, and even five planet-busters. I shook my head and sighed. I was never a big fan of dreadnoughts. They’re dinosaurs, useless against modern tactics. But here, all Jonas needed to do was to set it to orbiting Haven, and make us come to him. There would be little opportunity for fancy maneuvers; it would just be a matter of standing toe to toe and slugging it out. In a slugging match, nothing in the universe could match a dreadnought.
The three battle cruisers were only about half the size of Nemesis but much faster and more modern, and almost as well armed. Battle cruisers were the backbone of the Fleet. Three of them should be able to overcome an entire fleet.
Of course, the destroyers were the Fleet's workhorses. Fast, agile and well armed for their size. One destroyer is usually enough to pacify a planet; Jonas had five.
With that battle group, Jonas should have little trouble overcoming a virtually unarmed sector. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to fight back. Oh, maybe we could cobble together some converted tramps or something, but certainly nothing that could seriously oppose Jonas’ force. I sighed. This was going to take a miracle.
I grimaced. “Time is the critical factor,” I said. “It’s going to take awhile to even work up designs for something to fight with. Of course, that's assuming we can even build anything we design.”
He nodded. “The Viceroy is well aware of that. That’s why he's sending you to Outback. Outback and the rest of the outer worlds are our secret weapons.”
“Humph. Nothing very secret about planets.”
Rawl shrugged. “Oh, everyone knows they’re there, Commodore. What's not generally known is their unique situation. The Outer Worlds consist of five systems, including Outback, on the edge of explored space. Any of them can be reached from any other in one jump. Because of their relative proximity, the five systems have formed a very close relationship. Though they remain independent, they tend to trade among themselves, and specialize. One is a farm world, two are mining planets, Outback is the manufacturing center, and the last, Gamma, is the administrative and trading center of the group. The other four systems all have representatives on Gamma, and though they don't have a formal treaty or anything, they all tend to work together.”
He paused. “They form an economic and political powerhouse within the sector. The Viceroy refers to them as the engine of the sector. The only world more prosperous has been Haven, and that's sure to change with the Empire gone.”
“The point is that the outer worlds are firmly behind the Viceroy. They’ve benefited enormously from his policies, and are well aware that they are becoming a huge power in the sector. Jonas, on the other hand, hasn’t even bothered to learn of their importance. He simply isn’t interested in what he calls ‘primitive dustballs’. His intelligence people know better, of course, but there’s some evidence that their reports are largely being disregarded by the Admiral.”
I chuckled. “That's Jonas, all right. Anything more than three jumps from Prime is barbarian country, and couldn't possibly matter.”
Rawl nodded. “I'd heard you know him. But why would a man like that want to take over the sector?”
I shrugged. “Probably because he realizes that he’s effectively been banished to the ‘outer reaches’ for life. He resents it, and plans to show the Emperor how good he is. I suspect that if he succeeds, he’ll try to claim that Cord was planning to rebel and he, Jonas, single-handedly prevented a rebellion and saved the sector for the Empire.” I shrugged again. “I imagine he thinks the Emperor will reward him by calling him back to Prime for a promotion and maybe a Duchy. It would never occur to him that the Emperor was trying to give the sector away.”
Rawl nodded again. “You may be right.” He grinned suddenly. “I’d love to see his face if he succeeded and tried to return the sector to the Emperor.” The grin faded as quickly as it had come. “You know, of course, that the fact of the Empire’s release of the sector is highly classified. You won’t be able to mention it to your crew.”
“I know. I make it a policy never to lie to my men, military or civilian. I’ll simply tell the truth, if not the whole truth. That Jonas is plotting to take over the sector, that Hari and I are being drafted by the Viceroy to put down the coup and Valkyrie is being converted to a Command and Control ship. All true.” I hesitated. “There are always things the troops can't be told; but that doesn't justify lying to them.”
When I called the shareholders meeting in Valkyrie 's mess deck, I made no speeches, no recruiting pitches. I simply told them, and offered them the choice. They could: (a) join up with Hari and me, (b) accept internment (in this case, simply temporary discharge from Valkyrie and an allowance to stay on Outback), or (c) sell back their shares for a premium price and a ticket on an inbound liner.
No one interrupted as I explained the situation, and the silence continued for minutes after I finished. Jax was flushed with excitement.
Jax had joined us on Pascua, his home world. Our Comm Officer came down with Reiber’s Fever, and we’d had to buy him out. The port officials on Pascua wouldn’t let us lift without a Comm Officer, and the Trader's Guild office had no one to send us. We’d been sitting on the port apron for more than a week when Jax showed up.
He’d hitchhiked almost a thousand kilometers to try to join us. Hari was on duty at the time, and by the time I arrived Hari was his biggest fan. The three thousand Pascuan piastres his father had given him weren’t enough for a full share, but they were his father’s life savings. At Hari’s urging, we came up with a complicated deal that let Jax buy some cargo and deadhead to our next port of call where, hopefully, the profit from his 3,000 piastres would be enough to purchase a share. Owing to some creative bookkeeping by Hari, it was, and Jax was inordinately proud of being a full partner. Just now, he was caught up in romantic visions. Fighting always seems romantic to the young — until they've experienced it.
“So, It wasn't smuggling, huh, Capt… uh Commodore? That was just in case of spies, right?” Jax was squirming with excitement.
“That’s right, Jax.” I replied wearily. In the face of Jax’s excited expression, I felt ancient and jaded. I had no doubt how Jax would vote. This was the kind of adventure he'd dreamed about while feeding the animals on Pascua. Con, though…
Con Wiler was a gifted Astrogator. He was also the shallowest human I’d ever encountered. He was tall, slim, and classically handsome. Not today, though. Today, his handsome features were puffy and red. His usually impeccable uniform was creased and rumpled, and his hair was likewise rumpled. He was obviously suffering from a combination of hangover and the effects of sober-ups.
“It's not fair!” Con whined. “We didn’t join up with Cord. Why should he want to take Valkyrie? You aren't gonna let ‘im, are you, Captain?”
“You weren’t listening, Con,” I replied with as much patience as I could muster. “Cord would have seized Valkyrie anyway. She's the biggest ship on the rim that doesn’t already belong to Jonas. Cord’s going to outfit her as a C amp;C ship for me. I’m the Commodore whose flag she’ll fly, and Hari may even command her. Now, you have to make a choice.”
I spelled out the options again, and then stepped back. “All right. You have until we reach Outback to decide what you want to do, and let me know.”
The trip to Outback was uneventful. Jax, of course, wasted no time letting me know that he wanted to join up. He was flushed and excited. He was having great difficulty restraining his enthusiasm, and badgered Hari and me endlessly.
Con was a different case altogether. Aside from the times that he’d come up to the bridge to set up the jumps, he stayed in his cabin with the door closed, engrossed in his collection of porn vids. He ate in a corner of the mess deck, and replied to any conversational attempts with glares and grunted monosyllables.