Metal Swarm - Kevin J. Anderson [93]
'How much longer until we reach the Theroc system?' she said.
The navigator consulted a diagnostic panel. 'Four hours, thirty-six minutes.'
'I'm retiring to my ready-room. Please have the kitchen send me up a sandwich. They know what kind I like - ham and cheese, hot mustard, dark bread, a pickle. And an iced tea, sweet tea this time. Don't make it that bitter powdered stuff.' The lunch was her standard order, and not surprisingly, the meal arrived within minutes as Willis sat at her table, tapping fingers on the table-top. She wasn't hungry, but ate out of habit and a basic need for energy.
Peter and Estarra, now being painted as rebels, cowards, and traitors, had actually run away and formed a new government. Why the hell would they do that? King Peter had everything in the Whisper Palace: riches, servants, power. A person didn't just chuck that out the window and run to a backward planet for no reason. Something really, really bad must have happened. If she had a chance to split her sandwich with Peter and just chat for awhile, Willis suspected the King would tell quite a different story from the Chairman's.
In fact, she had seen first-hand what the Hansa did to the orphaned colonies. She'd been ordered to stomp on the unruly world of Yreka and mete out an unpleasant punishment to a group of hardscrabble colonists who were simply trying to get by. Now that smacked of betrayal, or at least shirking responsibility. In return for paying their taxes and contributing as any citizen was supposed to, Earth had promised to support its Hansa colonies. But the moment times became tough, the Chairman had jettisoned them like unwanted baggage. Those colonists had every reason to cry foul.
The sanctions against the Roamer clans were another ugly distraction. At least she hadn't been asked to participate in the destruction of Rendezvous or any other Roamer facility. Chairman
Wenceslas and the EDF walked all over political boundaries, and each day they seemed to be putting on heavier boots. Willis took a bite of her sandwich, felt the burn of the mustard, and washed it down with a deliciously syrupy mouthful of sweet tea.
On her desktop screen she reviewed the spyflyer surveillance images. She knew that Theroc couldn't stand up to ten Mantas. Then again, she didn't believe that the King - not a stupid man -would leave himself vulnerable during such a dangerous time. Maybe he simply hadn't had enough time to put all his ducks in a row. With the Earth Defence Forces still reeling, Peter might have expected a brief respite to regroup. On the other hand, they all knew the Chairman…
Brindle contacted her ready-room. Admiral, thirty minutes until we arrive in-system. I thought you might want to address the crew before we begin our attack.'
'Thank you, Commander. I do indeed.' She dumped the dishes into the recycler. After leaving the ready-room and settling into her command chair again, she opened the all-ship channel. 'Listen up. We are about to arrive at Theroc under orders from Chairman Wenceslas. Our job is to put an end to this conflict, but we are not barbarians. Whatever goes on here today, remember that Theroc is still an independent world. We need to use a light touch.'
'That means no unnecessary casualties,' Brindle appended.
'I'd prefer no casualties at all. They won't stand up against our firepower, so maybe we can wrap this up quickly and efficiently.' Personally, she doubted it. 'Approach the system at full speed, then max decel. I want to pop out in front of their faces and use the element of surprise for all it's worth.'
The cruisers roared into the Theron system with enough deceleration to make Willis's bones and muscles ache. Her crew was ready. Brindle stood at attention behind her chair. All of their weapons officers were at their stations.
But as soon as long-distance