Stellar Fox (Castle Federation Book 2) (27 page)

“Since the area had many planets that could be inhabited without the massive intervention Barsoom would require, no one had any interest until the War ended,” she said calmly. “At that point, the Commonwealth launched a government-sponsored terraforming operation. The three comets stealing Barsoom’s atmosphere were destroyed or re-directed, and active warming efforts began.

“They have slowed the degradation and begun to re-stabilize the ecosystem. Current projections are to open colonization in about twenty years – at which point, the corp doing the terraforming stands to make an absolutely unimaginable amount of money.”

“But we’re pretty sure it was there as a listening post,” Kyle pointed out.

“Exactly,” Sanchez agreed. “To our knowledge, there is no military presence in the system, but there is a Commonwealth Intelligence facility and the terraforming base would be able to provide the
Triumphant
with all of her consumables except ammunition.

“And unless Walkingstick does send ships to its defense from Captain Paris’ data, the system is completely defenseless.”

“Sir, we finally have President Ingolfson for you,” Dimitri was informed by the com operator. “He’s requesting an immediate link-up.”

“Put him through,” he ordered. A momentary chill ran through him. If Ingolfson had an active Q-Com connection back to the Alliance, it was going to get a lot harder to pretend his orders were still to chase
Triumphant
very quickly.

His wallscreen dissolved from plain gray metal into the image of a heavily jowled blond man sitting at a cheap desk that could have fit in any office in the galaxy.

“Vice Admiral Tobin,” the President of Alizon greeted him. “I’m glad to have the opportunity to thank you personally for your intervention. While the Commonwealth’s occupation was not heavy, it is never… easy to rest under the hand of a foreign conqueror.”

“We were in the area, Mister President,” Dimitri told him. “But once we were here, we weren’t going to leave the Commonwealth in charge.”

It took almost a full second for Ingolfson to respond, and Dimitri checked quickly to confirm his impression – the President was speaking to him via an old-fashioned radio, not any kind of Q-Com. Which made sense, as he’d have had to confirm any Q-Com communication himself.

Counter Intelligence Level One gave him complete control over the ship’s interstellar communications. Technically, Captain Roberts should have been the one with the review, but Dimitri was perfectly willing to push the gray area of effectively having a ‘Battle Group’ of one ship.

“It’s appreciated,” Ingolfson eventually answered. “My understanding from my staff is that you do need to continue your original mission, correct? I’ve been briefed on Kematian.”

“Exactly, Mister President,” Dimitri confirmed. “We intend to be underway in approximately two hours. We don’t intend to leave you defenseless, though I’m hoping you can contribute personnel if nothing else. Captain Roberts’ people are just finishing re-booting the sixty
Scimitars
the Commonwealth has left behind.

“We’ll be leaving one of our fighter Wings and those
Scimitars
behind. If you can provide flight crews for the
Scimitars
, plus hopefully some kind of quarters for our people, it would be appreciated.”

Again, most of a second passed by, and then Ingolfson’s face split in a wide grin.

“As it happens, Admiral,” he said calmly, “several of the new stations being built in orbit under the Commonwealth’s careful eye have interiors with a strange resemblance to our old orbital fighter bases. If we strip some redundant paneling off – which I’m assured will take only a few hours – they’ll work perfectly.

“I won’t pretend I wouldn’t rather see
Avalon
in orbit,” the Alizoni man admitted, “but I understand that sometimes the mission must take priority – and there is no question
Triumphant
must be destroyed.”

“Are you in contact with Alliance High Command?” Dimitri asked carefully.

“No,” Ingolfson replied. “When we assembled our emergency command bunker, we assumed that we would still have access to our own orbital switchboard array.” He grimaced. “Given the Commonwealth’s focus on interstellar communication as the reason for unification, I don’t think they blew it up
intentionally
, but our Q-Com network went down with it.”

He shrugged.

“Whether it was intentional or not, the Terrans took advantage of it,” he continued. “They policed up every Q-Com unit they could find that linked to an Alliance switchboard. We’re trying to find one, but I was honestly hoping we could borrow at least a block of entangled pairs from you.”

Dimitri nodded slowly.

“Unfortunately, we’re under an FTL communications lockdown due to evidence of a spy aboard,” he told Ingolfson. “While I think we’re
safe
, I’m not sure any block we could give you would be… uncompromised.”

“Damn,” the President cursed. “Given your time constraint, it doesn’t seem worth the effort then,” he allowed. “We’ll find the ones the Commonwealth confiscated soon enough, I’m sure.

“I’ll have Star Guard Command coordinate moving those starfighters into those concealed launch bases, and make arrangements for proper quarters for your people,” Ingolfson concluded. “I’m sure you’re busy with your departure preparations.

“But once again, Admiral, you have my thanks, and the thanks of the Alizoni people, for your efforts on our behalf. The name
Avalon
was in no risk of being forgotten here, but now… now I think she will once again be a legend to my people.”

Vice Admiral Tobin’s deadline might not have been
necessary
, in the strictest sense, but it had at least been doable. With fifteen minutes to spare, Kyle sat on the bridge of his ship and watched the forty-eight starfighters of Wing Commander Lei Nguyen’s Epsilon Wing gently boost across Alizon orbit.

The station they were headed for wasn’t yet able to take them – or the sixty ex-Commonwealth starfighters orbiting it – aboard just yet, but the covert teams who’d snuck an entire fighter base into what they’d told the Commonwealth was a transshipment terminal assured him they’d be ready in less than an hour.

“All right, Maria,” he told Fleet Commander Pendez. “That’s the last item on the to-do list. Set your course for Barsoom, flank acceleration until we’re clear for Alcubierre.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied crisply and hit a single button. The preloaded course activated, and
Avalon’s
mighty engines flared to life.

Kyle watched the recently liberated planet drop away behind them and brooded. They’d done good work here, and he wasn’t a fan of leaving the job half-done. While he agreed it was
unlikely
the Commonwealth could organize an attack to retake the system before the rest of Battle Group Seventeen arrived, leaving the planet half-defenseless didn’t sit well with him.

Two hours to being able to warp space. Six days and four hours to Barsoom. But what then? Arriving in the system fifteen hours after
Triumphant
, it was entirely possible their visit to Barsoom would end up like their visit to KG-779 – barely in time to see the rogue battleship flee.

With a concealed sigh, he began to look up their orders. Just how far did High Command expect them to go to pursue Kematian’s murderers? If they were willing to leave an Alliance world unprotected, then the deadline must have been released…

He barely prevented himself from sitting bolt upright in his chair as his attempt to access their orders hit a brick wall. He was locked out by the Admiral’s seal – part of the Level One security?

As Captain,
Kyle
was supposed to control that. Poking at the locks, however, he’d rapidly confirmed that it had been done as a Battle Group Counter Intelligence lockdown, with Tobin as the only person with access. Kyle was unable to access communications on his own ship, and a sinking feeling took hold of his guts.

This whole trip was going to hell in a handbasket. First the assassination attempts, then the bombing of Kematian, then
more
assassination attempts – and now a mission of outright revenge, taken as black as the system could go.

It was a long way from what he’d hoped for in his first real command. Arguing with the Admiral was probably pointless.

He needed a drink.

“What, are you making a habit of receiving wine bottles from thankful heads of state?” Stanford asked as he entered the observation deck and saw Kyle waiting for him with a bottle of wine.

“This one is mine,” Kyle replied. “All I got from Ingolfson was the electronic equivalent of a ‘thank you’ card – the man is strangely busy for the head of government of a newly liberated planet.”

“And one who we are basically leaving to the wolves with a pointy stick,” Solace observed as she joined the two men.

The CAG glanced over at the Captain and the XO, and Kyle poured three glasses of wine with a wink at his friend.

“If you two are down here, who’s flying this crate?” Stanford asked.

“Fleet Commander Maria Pendez is an extremely competent officer who is very able to hold down the watch on her own,” Kyle said virtuously. “And if anything more dangerous than an Alcubierre-Stetson entrance comes up, and she somehow feels overly intimidated,” he shrugged and tapped his temple, “I’m only a thought away.”

Stanford shook his head and took the wine. Kyle knew the smaller man was more empathetic than he sometimes pretended and had probably guessed his Captain needed a drink and a friend.

“To Alizon,” Kyle toasted, raising his glass to the other two officers. “May they stay well free of Terra’s long shadow.”

They drank. The wine Kyle had poached from the officer’s lounge via the weight of the gold planet on his collar was not great, but it served the purpose today.

He realized with a minor start that it was the first time he’d ever seen his XO drink anything alcoholic at all. Something seemed to have shifted between him and Senior Fleet Commander Mira Solace at some point in the headlong pursuit of
Triumphant
. He wasn’t entirely sure
what
, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t something he should think on too hard.

She noticed him noticing the drink and winked at him.

“I’m not on duty, Kyle,” she pointed out. “You can complain about my ‘drunken ways’ later.”

He no longer had the ability to search and cross-reference reports at a thought he’d once had, but his implant interface bandwidth remained sufficient to match the clear quote with Captain Haliburt’s evaluation report.

Kyle winced.
Now
he understood why she didn’t drink in front of her Captain. In amidst all of the other specious accusations the first Captain she’d XOed under had leveled in that garbage report, he’d barely registered the alcoholism complaint.

“I never added those particular puzzle pieces together,” he admitted aloud. “My apologies, Mira.”

She chuckled softly and gestured for him to refill her glass.

“It took me a while, but I’m reasonably sure you’re not Haliburt at this point,” she noted.

“Speaking of… individuals of questionable judgment,” Stanford interjected. “Am I the only one uncomfortable with leaving Alizon uncovered?”

“I wasn’t just playing devil’s advocate this morning,” Solace pointed out. “This really is a situation where the Admiral should be using his own judgment and waiting.

“I want Richardson dead as much as anyone else,” she continued, her eyes suddenly very dark and very flat, “but we can’t leave an entire planet swinging in the breeze.”

“High Command orders and even Admirals usually obey,” Kyle reminded her. “But… Tobin wouldn’t have disobeyed regardless. I’m not sure he’s being entirely rational about
Triumphant
. This seems a lot more personal than it should be.”

“We watched half a world die,” Stanford said harshly. “I think it’s a little Voids-cursed personal.”

“No argument,” Kyle agreed. “But with everything going on, I’m getting an uncomfortable itch between my shoulder blades – and not just because I’m sleeping on a mediocre cot in my office.

“Keep your eyes and ears open. Barsamian has half of the damn Marines on rotation watching
my
back, but our Terran agent went for Michael already.”

He shook his head, eyeing his two key subordinates – and friends.

“With most of our Marines on Alizon, we can’t put you two under guard, but Gods know I’d like to,” he admitted. “If anything strange turns up, I need to know about it.”

The other two exchanged a glance – a type of glance he was familiar with from being a battlecruiser CAG. It meant something had been discussed that the Captain
shouldn’t
know… and that maybe the Captain now should.

“There’s definitely been something strange going on,” Solace admitted with a sigh. “We could never pin down anything solid, just rumors, but ever since the Admiral’s staff came aboard…”

She laid out in precise detail everything they’d heard about Sanchez’s sounding people out to Kyle’s slowly growing sense of unease.

“You’re right,” he finally agreed, “I can’t move on this. It’s just rumors. What I
can
do is order you both to draw weapons from the Armory. Mira – find staff on the bridge watches you trust implicitly and encourage them to do the same. Michael – Rokos and some of the others at least have range time as well as known loyalties. I want you to start putting together a team out of your enlisted.”

“What kind of team are we talking here?” Stanford asked slowly, carefully.

“A counter-mutiny team.”