“That’s right,” Diaz said. “So we assume that General Drakon’s forces are inside the base?”
“Yes.” She turned to look at the comm specialist. “See if you can get a message back down to them. I want to—” The comm specialist got a look that caused Marphissa to stop speaking. “What is it?”
“Another text-only, Kommodor, but only partial. Barrage incoming. Require assis— And then nothing.”
“Does that make sense?” Diaz asked Marphissa.
“Yes, it does,” Marphissa replied. “I talked about this once with someone who had encountered it. Transmitters at fortified bases are buried beneath the surface so they won’t be destroyed, but in order to send a message, they require antenna links leading up to the surface. Barrages that destroy objects on the surface will break the links, so that even though the transmitter still works, it cannot get a signal through the rock above it.”
“Is that what happens?” Diaz asked. “I never thought about that.”
“Of course not! Up here, we never have to deal with that problem unless we’re trying to send a message straight through a planet, and how often does a planet block our line of sight to another ship or planet without any other ships or objects to relay the transmission?” Marphissa jerked her chin at her display. “That’s how they tricked us here. We’re used to seeing everything that’s out there, being able to talk to anything. We don’t think in terms of hidden enemies or obstacles, not unless we’re really close to a planet.”
“I can promise you,” Diaz said, “that I will be thinking much more about those things from now on.”
“You and me both.” Marphissa switched her attention back to the image of the captured enemy base and the area around it. “As soon as we can spot targets, we’ll plan the bombardment. We don’t have many bombardment projectiles left, but maybe we’ll find something worth taking a shot at.”
They were five minutes out from the planet when the combined data from the sensors on the Hunter-Killers and Marphissa’s cruisers finally produced a partial but ugly picture. “Lots of ground forces in the open, here and here,” Diaz noted.
“Yes. It looks like a lot more on this side, though. All of the other areas around the base have some soldiers, but they’re spread out.” Marphissa reached out, touching several spots not far from the base where the masses of enemy soldiers were heading. What if I am wrong? What if those are Drakon’s soldiers, making a last-ditch attempt to take the base? But there are so many of them.
Look how many are dying. I can see them, even from this far away, the masses surging against the obstacle of the fortifications and dying. Honore Bradamont told me that General Drakon doesn’t do that. He doesn’t waste the lives of his people in human-wave attacks.
It is a Syndicate mind that is ordering those attacks.
They are the enemy.
Marphissa touched the commands that turned her indicated points into targets for bombardment, using the six projectiles remaining. Only six, but they would cause tremendous damage where they hit. She paused, taking one last second to ensure she really wanted to do this, then touched the commands to authorize the bombardment and for it to launch automatically when her cruisers reached the right point. “Give me a vector to join up with Midway,” she told Diaz. “We’ll move onto it as soon as the bombardment launches.”
Two more messages to send. “General Drakon, I don’t know if you will hear this, but please accept this close-bombardment support with the compliments of the mobile forces.”
And, finally, “Sentry, Sentinel, Scout, Defender, you are to join up with the main formation as we swing by the planet. Take up your assigned positions in box formation one.
“We have a battleship to destroy.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Iceni’s tone could have sliced through solid diamond, but of course the image of Kapitan Kontos before her did not flinch. Kontos was light-hours distant and this message had been sent hours ago.
“Watch the different stars,” Kontos repeated, as if he were responding to her question even though he couldn’t have heard it for hours yet. He must have known that Iceni would want the message restated. “The Dancers sent us that message, marked for the symmetries of this star system. I believe that is intended to mean you and General Drakon, since you are the two governing leaders here. That was the entire message.
“We have not yet heard anything from Black Jack’s force. I await your orders. For the people, Kontos, out.”
As Kontos’s image disappeared, Iceni looked at the virtual windows providing views of the many places where restive citizens were still gathered, waiting for either something that would calm them or the trigger that would cause them to explode. She had kept the police in their stations and their substations, guessing that with all forms of communication media shut down and no other stimuli provoking them, the citizens would mill about indecisively.
But that state of affairs could not last. She had to defuse the citizens. As soon as she heard from Colonel Rogero that his preparations were complete, she would find out whether or not Rogero’s gamble would work. If it didn’t work… well, Rogero had already said it. There wouldn’t be any way to try anything else except huddling inside fortified areas and waiting for the rioting to burn itself out.
Gwen Iceni had a lot of practice at hiding her true feelings and projecting what her audience wanted to see. That was a necessary survival tool in the Syndicate, where most superiors did not care if they were being lied to as long as the lies were the ones those superiors wanted to see and hear. It was also a very important skill to use with the workers, who would believe the lies because the lies held the only hope the workers could have, and the workers needed hope, even false hope, to continue on day after day.
Now, despite the anxiety she felt and her anger at those who had engineered these crises facing her, despite her worries about the fate of the forces sent to Ulindi and in particular (admit it to yourself, Gwen, even if you never will to him) worries about the fate of Artur Drakon, Iceni presented an image of calm confidence as she touched the command to transmit a message to Black Jack. “Admiral Geary, my friend, I am hoping it is you who have returned to this star system.” Even though you haven’t contacted me yet. Are you waiting to see what I do about the mobs? “We are currently undergoing some minor domestic disturbances, which I regret to say are occupying my full attention. General Drakon is at Ulindi, assisting the people there in throwing off the chains of the Syndicate. You will be pleased to hear that your Captain Bradamont has proven to be an exceptionally valuable resource in our attempts to both defend this star system and to create a more stable system of governance for it. I regret that she is currently aboard our battleship Midway, which is also at Ulindi, and cannot speak to you directly. I assure you that she is both safe and highly respected by the officers and specialists of our military forces.