“Thank you, sir,” Garibaldi said, sounding excessively formal. “It is good to see you again too.”
He wasn’t used to the informality of higher-ranking officers, Marius noted, certainly not among those under his command. But he’d learn.
“You may change your mind,” Marius told him, and smiled at his nonplussed expression. “I have a particular task for you and your ship. I’m afraid another tempting opportunity to get yourself killed in the line of duty beckons.”
Garibaldi showed no overt reaction.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
Admiral Drake, according to rumor, had been offered another Star Carrier—perhaps even the Enterprise herself—as a flagship, but had chosen to continue to fly his lights on the Magnificent. Roman had only been onboard her once, when he had been relieved from command of Enterprise and officially promoted for the first time, so he’d never seen the briefing room. It was large enough to hold every captain in the fleet, but only a handful of people were seated at the table today: a brown-skinned woman without any rank tabs, a very dark-skinned man he’d never seen before, a Marine Major General who looked oddly familiar…and Blake Raistlin, who turned towards Roman with a welcoming smile. He wore the tabs of a commander and the white and blue uniform of an admiral’s aide, which struck Roman as odd. The Raistlin he remembered had been determined to win a command.
“My father didn’t like the thought of me risking myself,” Raistlin muttered when Roman asked. “I’m his only heir, you see, and he felt that I shouldn’t be risked on board a smaller ship. I haven’t told him that when the admiral takes us back on the offensive, I’ll be on this superdreadnaught and under fire from enemy ships. It would only upset him.”
“If we could all be seated,” the brown-skinned woman said, “we can begin.”
The room locked and sealed itself as Roman took his seat. Admiral Drake joined them, seated at the head of the table, along with a man Roman recognized; Admiral Mason, who looked as if he hadn’t changed much from the days when he’d flown his flag on Enterprise. Mason gave him a thin nod.
Of course, back then, Mason hadn’t thought much of his flagship’s commander and hadn’t hesitated to make his feelings known. Roman had been told that some officers had opposed his promotion to captain and wondered, absently, if Mason had been one of them. And what, precisely, was he doing at the briefing? The last Roman had heard, he was still in command of the fleet’s starfighter force.
“I am Commodore Arunika, for those of you who don’t know me,” the brown-skinned woman said calmly. “My companion”—she indicated the black man—”is known as Uzi. His real name is highly-classified and he assures me that he has forgotten it himself. His precise role here will be explained in the privacy of this briefing room and may not be discussed outside a secure compartment. Anyone found leaking the data to any unauthorized person will be facing a court martial before they can blink.”
She smiled thinly. “With the admiral’s position, I will review the current situation before going on to outline Operation Kidd,” she said.
Drake nodded.
“Admiral Justinian has been content to play a waiting game since his failure to punch through the Asimov Point a second time and the defeat—the destruction—of the rebellion on Maskirovka,” she told them. “The sudden upsurge of violence and rebellion all across the Federation—and the rise of the new warlords—may have helped encourage him to remain quiet, for now. We do not expect that happy state of affairs to last, nor are we able to go on the offensive. The bottom line is that we believe he is currently building up his forces with the aim of taking advantage of our weakness before we can overcome the other threats and crush him.”
A holographic star chart appeared over the table, a number of stars blinking bright amber.
“Six months ago, Governor Pyotr Eustasovitch Hartkopf abandoned the pretense that he was a loyal and able servant of the Federation,” she continued. “Hartkopf’s name was a byword for corruption and decadence long before Admiral Justinian kicked off the war, but powerful friends in high places prevented him from being recalled to Earth to face an investigation. An investigatory commission was, in fact, being pulled together when Hartkopf, perhaps realizing that time was running out, chose to declare himself a warlord. He subverted or overcame loyal units of the Federation Navy and established himself in full control of the Zathras Sector.
“As you can see from the star chart, this poses us with a series of problems unseen since the Inheritance Wars. Hartkopf’s positions are connected to Federation territory through an outstandingly long chain of Asimov Points and diverting the firepower necessary to crush him would mean leaving other bases and locations uncovered, for months at least. Worse, his territory effectively borders Admiral Justinian’s and it is possible that the two will come to an alliance. While Hartkopf doesn’t possess the level of firepower that Justinian has at his disposal, their alliance would open up new angles of attack for Justinian into Federation territory. Our psych profiles of Justinian do not suggest any great enthusiasm for an alliance with Hartkopf, but we feel that the possibilities would make his doubts moot.”
She tapped her terminal and the star chart focused on a handful of stars along the borderline between the two warlords. “Our intelligence networks were torn apart during the first rebellions, both ONI and Federation Intelligence, but we have been working to pull them back together. That hasn’t been an easy task. The Asimov Point in this system has been blocked and we are therefore forced to fall back on the longer paths into enemy space, making communication difficult. What we have been able to find out, however, is alarming. Hartkopf, who always had links with smuggler bands operating out of places like Hobson’s Choice or Rawls, has been making alliances with pirates, mercenary groups and perhaps even Outsiders. I don’t need to tell you, I suspect, that any such alliance could shift the balance of power quite remarkably.”
Roman considered it, and then nodded. Hartkopf didn’t have the firepower or industrial base to stand up to the Federation Navy, but if he hired mercenaries and made links with Outsiders, he might be able to trade on the advantages he did have to build up a more powerful fleet. And if Admiral Justinian gained unimpeded access to Hartkopf’s space, the Federation’s outer flanks could be exposed. And if the Outsiders got involved…
“Operation Kidd is intended to prevent that possibility from ever coming to pass,” Arunika said, her voice calm and composed. “Like all operations, it has a substantial amount of risk, all the more so because we cannot commit overwhelming forces to the objective. The plus is that if it works, we will accomplish it without a major redeployment of mobile units.”
“ONI has established—don’t ask how—that the two warlords have been working on establishing supply chains running through Marx and The Hive.” She nodded towards the star chart. “Neither system was surveyed properly when they were discovered and—at the time—the fact they were only twenty light years apart passed unnoticed. The Hive may be taboo space, but that doesn’t bother the smugglers—it’s the perfect place to transfer goods and supplies. The ships pop out of the Asimov Point in one system, travel to the other using stardrive, and then re-enter the Asimov Point network. The border between the two warlords isn’t under control, not properly. We believe that it won’t be long before pirates start to infest the region, once they realize that there are opportunities for loot there. We’re going to get there first.