He dismissed them and settled back into the sinfully-comfortable chair. If a single Imperial Intelligence agent had managed to remain undetected, who was he and why hadn’t he tried something more overt? Come to think of it, how had he managed to deduce the target and warn the Empire? Colin had picked Greenland himself and none of his crew had been told until they were underway. The only ones who had known were his Captains, but if one of them intended to betray him, they could have betrayed him back at Jackson’s Folly and the mutiny would never have got off the ground.
And yet… Imperial Intelligence had a reputation for being subtle. Could they have decided to allow the mutiny — and rebellion — to go ahead purely for some reason of their own? Colin considered it for a moment before dismissing the thought as nonsense. No one in their right mind would allow a rebel fleet to run amok in a sector and wreck planets belonging to one of the most powerful Families in the Empire. Unless Imperial Intelligence was secretly working against the Roosevelt Family and… no, that had to be nonsense too. Their position would never survive such operations.
Colin looked down at his hands, scowling. The mind techs were good, with terrifying reputations. It was quite possible that one of his inner circle had a secret personality, one implanted by Imperial Intelligence and programmed to serve as a spy. It was almost impossible to detect such a personality, if only because the victim thought that he was loyal and, if interrogated under truth drugs or lie detectors, would swear to his own loyalty. And yet, that theory fell down too, because the loyalist personality would never have allowed him to launch the mutinies.
The simplest answer was that they’d simply gotten unlucky. The Empire had set a trap and Colin had flown right into it. Even so… he keyed his console and called Anderson, issuing some very specific orders. If there was a spy onboard, witting or unwitting, they would find him before he could do any more harm.
Penny had seen Percival in a temper before; indeed, she had suffered at his hands when he’d been in a furious mood. He’d beaten her badly when he’d been told that he didn’t have the level of patronage required to move closer to the Core Worlds — where the possibility for graft and personal enrichment were endless — and again, just after the first mutinies had been reported. Now… he seemed torn between anger and delight, a dizzying combination. The first reports of the Battle of Greenland had just arrived, leaving Percival in the uncomfortable position of having to thank the man he suspected was plotting to unseat him.
Brent-Cochrane was shown into his office, his face alight with a dark smile and darker mischief. Penny felt her heart leap at the brief look he gave her, just for an instant, before he stood to attention and gave Admiral Percival an Academy-perfect salute. The white beret he had perched on his head, an insolent jab at his superior officer, was swept off, followed by an aristocratic bow. The performance did not appear to delight Admiral Percival at all.
But then, Penny knew, it wouldn’t have. If the Battle of Greenland had been truly decisive, it would have been Brent-Cochrane who had won the battle, cleaning up Percival’s mess. He would get all the credit, while Percival would be investigated for his failure to detect and prevent the mutinies before it was too late. Even with Commodore MacDonald on a flight into the Beyond to destroy the rebel base, hopefully leaving Commander Walker without his supplies and logistic backing, Percival might never manage to save his reputation.
“Admiral,” Brent-Cochrane said, every inch the naval hero. “I beg leave to report that we have defeated the rebels in the Greenland System.”
Percival was controlling himself, but Penny — who had seen him at his most vulnerable — could tell that he was on the verge of an explosion. It was tempting to think that Percival would lose control completely and end his own career, yet his instincts for political survival were too strong. Despite herself, she was curious; what would Percival do to get rid of the imprudent junior, her secret ally?
She listened as Brent-Cochrane outlined the victory. It hadn’t been a perfect victory — and it had been costly — but it was an unambiguous victory. Public Information would ensure that the story was told everywhere, mocking the rebels who had dared to believe that they could bring down the Empire. The loss of a superdreadnaught — and another one effectively out of service for some time — was worth it. If the rebels had a shipyard capable of building superdreadnaughts and replacing their losses, the Empire would have been destroyed a long time before Commander Walker had launched his mutiny.
“Good work,” Percival said, finally. He sounded more normal, which meant that he’d thought of a plan. “Once the rebel bases are destroyed, we will be able to put an end to the rebels and their rebellion.”
He glanced over at Derbyshire, who had been listening with a patient smile. “I trust that the plans for Operation Purge are complete?”
Derbyshire nodded. “Yes,” he said, flatly. Operation Purge — the Imperial Navy’s move into the Beyond — was predicted on destroying the rebel base, preventing them from mounting a new offensive. The squadrons of lighter craft would be reformed and then dispatched into the Beyond, following a targeting list drawn up by Imperial Intelligence. Every known colony in the Beyond would be destroyed, along with their inhabitants. They wouldn’t even be given a chance to surrender. “Once Commodore MacDonald returns victorious, we can begin.”
Penny noticed the flash of calculation that passed across Brent-Cochrane’s face before it was masked behind his vague smile. “Commodore,” Percival said, “you have done well. However, the loss of a superdreadnaught requires a board of inquiry, one chaired by a Sector Commander. You will report to Admiral Quintana of Sector 99 and he will chair the board of inquiry. You will also report to him on the rebels and the need for reinforcements in this sector.”
Brent-Cochrane’s face was expressionless, but Penny could see the anger smouldering behind his eyes. Percival was right; technically, regulations did require a board of inquiry, particularly when a superdreadnaught was involved. On the other hand, given that Brent-Cochrane had just delivered a real victory, the only victory of the war, Percival could have waived the requirement. It might not stop Brent-Cochrane’s star from rising any higher, but with some luck, it would keep him out of the sector long enough for Percival to win the war.
“Yes, sir,” Brent-Cochrane said, finally. What else could he say? “I shall report to him at once.”
Penny saw Percival’s smile and knew that he thought he had won. Somehow, she was sure that it wouldn’t be so easy.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Only two more jumps, Captain,” her XO said. “And then we will be there.”
Captain-Commodore Angelika McDonald smiled at the younger man’s enthusiasm. Officially, flying beyond the Rim — the line marking the edge of the Empire’s territory — was forbidden without special permission, but it didn’t take a tactical genius to realise that enforcing that law was completely impossible. The only legitimate reason to pass beyond the Rim was to survey new planets for settlement, a task normally carried out by the Imperial Survey Service. Someone with as much wanderlust as her XO was probably in the wrong branch of the service.
There was no real difference between the stars on one side of the Rim and the other, but there was a sense of isolation, as if they were completely alone. It was illusionary, yet she could feel it herself. The ship’s doctor had been prescribing additional sleeping draughts and pills for the crew, while the illicit stills operating below decks were churning out additional booze. Angelika knew that some captains would have cracked down hard on the stills, or insisted on taking a cut for themselves, but she didn’t care as long as the crew was sober when they reported for duty. She’d had a drunken crewman publicly lashed to make the point clear, along with busting the crewmen operating the still down to the lowest possible grade and confiscating their funds. It had worked, or at least no crewmember had turned up drunk while on duty.