Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [199]
With the destruction of Hurricane Depot, Chairman Wenceslas had thrown down the gauntlet, escalating tensions when he could easily have resolved the problem. The man had always been so cool and businesslike, but this course of action seemed highly questionable to her.
Once they had crossed this line, the Eddies would not leave the clans alone until they had proved their point. But Roamers were not likely to concede defeat. How could the EDF understand so little about the Roamer mind-set? It was a bad situation bound to get worse.
And Tasia’s job was to train more recruits for the ships that would attack clan strongholds.
Chapter 100 — BASIL WENCESLAS
Garish blue-white potassium vapor lights shone down, creating razor-edged shadows across the open research bay. Basil stood next to Admiral Stromo, looking skeptically at the odd ship: It was a Frankenstein’s monster of components, spare parts stitched together in ways that had never been meant to function. The vessel was fast, though ungainly.
“It’s a captured Roamer craft, Mr. Chairman,” Stromo said. “One we seized during the raid on Hurricane Depot.”
Basil crossed his arms, careful not to wrinkle his fine business suit. He knew the Roamers had developed innovative and eccentric technology during their many years of austerity and isolation, but he didn’t understand what the Hansa could gain from studying this old hulk. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to reconfigure a squadron of Remoras to look like that. What could you possibly extract from the design?”
Stromo had gained weight in the last few years, which made Basil frown slightly in distaste. Perhaps the Admiral should have been out patrolling with his ships, getting some practical exercise, instead of sitting behind a desk.
“Not the design, Mr. Chairman. It’s what we are taking out of the databanks that I find so interesting.”
Now Basil raised his eyebrows. “How did you get to the computer systems without them self-destructing on you?” After Cesca Peroni had told all of her clan members to scatter, simply finding the space gypsies would be even more difficult than the Hansa had planned.
“Sheer luck, Mr. Chairman. The pilot of this ship attempted to destroy himself, but we captured him unexpectedly before he could activate normal fail-safes. About half of the files were scrapped, but our cryptography specialists were able to reconstruct the other records. We now have the detailed coordinates for a dozen previously unknown Roamer settlements and industrial facilities.” Stromo grinned, his face flushing with pride, though his skin looked pallid and sickly under the garish lights.
“But there’s more?” Basil prompted. Inside the analysis hangar, Hansa engineers and EDF experts studied the engines, components, and computer systems, searching for further scraps of information.
“Much more, Mr. Chairman.” He formed a smile with his thick lips. “It took time, but we also know the location of Rendezvous—the central Roamer complex, the very seat of their government.”
Basil sucked in a quick breath. “Excellent! We can make effective use of this knowledge.” His joy seemed out of proportion to the actual news, but after so many disasters and plans that had not turned out the way he had hoped, he was pleased to have events go right for a change.
The demonstration assault on Hurricane Depot had not sufficiently intimidated the clans; therefore, the second phase needed to be even more overwhelming and demoralizing. He wanted to take Speaker Peroni down a notch or two. Her petulant defiance was simply unreasonable, and the Hansa didn’t have time for it.
He lowered his voice, muttering to himself. “It didn’t have to come to such an end—if only they had cooperated, played as part of the team of humanity…if only they had accepted the necessities of the situation.” He snapped his head up to look at Stromo, who stood waiting for orders. “There can be no more significant victory than to take over Rendezvous. Admiral, devise a surgical