“Yes…” Atara Travis was perhaps even more matter of fact even than Barron, something he forgot once in a while. “…much better, unfortunately. The main guns look repaired, for example, but they’re not…and even if the equipment we need arrives in time, we’ll still have to decide whether to take her out of action for two weeks to install it. Even three, all things considered.” A pause. “That’s a long time.”

  It wasn’t a long time, not exactly, but it was long enough to be a problem, at least if it came at just the wrong moment. Barron knew that, but still, he found himself arguing the opposite point of view…the positive one. “We’ve got ten sets of primaries coming in less than a week…and one of them will definitely go into Dauntless. Less than three weeks, and you’ll be back in the fight at close to full power.” Close was a difficult word, of course…even with all the guns more or less operational, he knew there were a hundred ways the ship would be somewhat less than she’d be at full strength.

  Full strength wasn’t even a consideration then, though. He didn’t know how much time his fleet would get, but he was sure it would be less than he needed. The enemy would be back. Just when was a bit of a question, but he didn’t let himself believe, on any level, that it would be long enough.

  “Well, assuming the arrival does come, and assuming we decide we can do without the ship for two weeks, or three, you may be right about that.” A pause. “If we really go for it, and take ten ships out of the line together, we can even make a difference…assuming of course, we don’t pick the wrong two weeks.”

  Barron just nodded. In truth, he’d decided to gamble with two weeks on Dauntless, but he hadn’t really considered whether he’d put all ten main gun mounts into the mix right away. Oddly, he knew it was the same decision really, but he found that he had two different points of view. Dauntless would make it through…but when he imagined taking ten battleship hulls out at once, his confidence slipped. It didn’t make sense, he knew…but it was true, nevertheless.

  “Yeah…” He answered Travis…but he knew she picked up on his pointless doubts. She was the one person he could never fool. He even imagined, once in a while at least, he could pull one over on Andi…but never Atara.

  And maybe not Andi either…he just wasn’t sure. As close as he felt to her, he knew she was her own person, and while she agreed with him most of the time, he realized they were coming up on an area they definitely saw differently.

  “I’m thinking we’ll do five and then five rather than all at once.” It didn’t make sense, not really, at least not with his perception that Dauntless would get through. But he knew it would make the process easier, at least. “I’m not sure we’ve got the manpower to handle ten jobs at once.” He knew that was bullshit, at least in part—and he knew Atara did as well—but he went with it.

  And, so did she. “Yeah, that makes sense.” Her voice suggested that she at least thought it might not, but she didn’t say.

  The two stood next to each other for a minute, perhaps even two. Then, Atara came right out and said it. “What do you really think of the current situation? Do you believe we really have a chance to win this fight conventionally? Or do you think we’ll be forced to rely on…the other option?”

  Barron heard the words, and he knew at once that Atara wasn’t on the other side. She wasn’t against him, not yet at least. But, she had a considerable bit of doubt, that was clear. He just couldn’t tell if it was enough to pull her point of view to the other side. Tyler knew he faced that kind of a fight with Andi—and he dreaded that enough—but if Atara took the other side, too? He didn’t know what that would mean. Would she even take the position against him, if that’s what she decided she believed? Or would she remain by his side, even if she didn’t know how she felt? She had always been one hundred percent allied to him…but he’d felt she had always agreed as well. Now he wondered.

  Worse, perhaps, he wondered about himself. He was against launching a full assault against the enemy…but he was doubtful too. Was his question mark a symbol of his steely nerve, just a reasonable outlook on the complexity of the situation? Or was it serious doubt, the fact that fighting the enemy just seemed more conservative, even though it was actually hopeless?

  His doubts extended, beyond just whether to undertake the mission to destroy the enemy. He had questions about that certainly, none more than the lack of assurance it would even work, but in the moments when he was being truly honest with himself, he realized there was little hope in his way either.

  He also realized that part of his doubts extended from the hope that the new system would work. He was a fighter, and he imagined the enemy beaten and prostrate before the Confederation…but he hadn’t gotten to the point where he would risk killing all of the enemy. He didn’t even know that all of the Highborn were as bad as the ones he’d seen, and he had to acknowledge that the enemy, as vicious as they were, clearly didn’t intend to eradicate humankind. Could he inflict such a devastating punishment on them?

  Of course, there were other considerations that were just as crucial, first and foremost, would it even work? He didn’t know, and no one else did either, whatever their view. They were just assuming the current version, produced quickly and without any real testing, would be workable. There were a hundred things that could have been done wrong, a thousand. No doubt, the AI that Andi had brought back retained most of the process for creating the virus…assuming that itself was trustable…but as with so many things, she had obtained a damaged file, one that offered 95% of the formula, but left a certain amount to be calculated.

  Barron knew his people would eventually get through the data…but how long would it take? Was the current version workable? Or were they months or years even, from a finished formula?

  Barron realized he had gone on a long time without answering, and he turned toward Atara, and looked at her with absolute truth in his eyes. “I don’t know, Atara…I just don’t know. I have hesitations against increasing the level of this fight. Whatever we think of the enemy, they are not trying to annihilate us. But what will they do if they discern that is our true objective? How will they respond, whether our efforts are successful or not? Even a 100% effective formula will be difficult to apply everywhere, especially once the enemy is aware of our intention. How do they react? They withdrew from the empire, but honestly, we’re not the empire, no matter what you think of our chances, and they are vastly stronger than they were then. Will they withdraw—because you know we’re not going to destroy them all, everywhere, no matter what nonsense gets pandered about? Or will they turn the fight about on us, seek to destroy us all. That is likely to be no more of an easy success…but if they destroy our fleet and our ability to deliver canisters, even of an entirely effective formula, they will have the time, certainly.”

  He stopped suddenly, having gone on much farther than he’d expected. Atara was the only one in the room with him, and he’d told her just about everything…but there were doubts he hadn’t shared with her, or with Andi or Clint Winters.

  Atara stared at him for an instant, and then she moved toward him and pulled him close. “It will be okay, Ty…we’ll decide how to proceed, and we’ll do it.” She hugged him for another fifteen seconds, and then she pulled back and returned the subject to a more routine level. “If Dauntless, and four other ships, are going into the line in less than a week, I’ve got some work to do reshuffling things.” She smiled, more or less. “Try to focus on the matters at hand, one at a time. We don’t know yet whether we’ve even got an effective formula…so we’ve got to keep pushing forward on our other agenda anyway. If it turns out the formula works…well then we’ll really have something to talk about.”

  She stood where she was, and she held her smile for perhaps another ten seconds. Then she turned and walked away, across the room and out the door.

  She was gone before Barron realized she hadn’t given him a hint of her own opinion on the situation. She was normally his ally, and while she may have subverted her own intentions once or twice over the years, he was pretty sure she had actually agreed with him most of the time.

  But most didn’t mean all, and Atara had always been the harsher of the two of them…

  * * *

  “I’m telling you, it’s completely dysfunctional. It was still partially operational when I pulled away from the fleet, but now it’s completely dead.” Jake Stockton was usually pretty good at hiding his point of view, but even as he spoke the words, he realized that they were bland, that he really had no idea what to expect from the device that still clung to his neck. He was telling the truth that it seemed dead, had seemed dead from shortly after he’d wrested control back, but he didn’t know if it would stay that way.

  “Yes, I know that you regained apparent total control back, but you know as well as I do that could be temporary…or partial. The thing might be completely dead, and it may stay that way. Or it might…” Dr. Jordan leaned backward and looked at Stockton, equal amounts of curiosity and pity in his stare. He didn’t finish what he’d begun to say, though. He didn’t have to.

  The room was silent for a moment…and then Stockton spoke again. “What about the removal effort?” It wasn’t a new topic, but it had been one Stockton hadn’t been willing to consider, at least until that moment.

  “No, definitely not. And certainly not with someone of your stature. Not until we…”

  “I have no stature!” Stockton interrupted. “Forget what I was…there is nothing I can do now.” Stockton’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at the doctor sitting with him. “We both know that. As long as I wear this thing, I’m at best a source of information…and I’ve already given all of that I have.” He paused, considering the situation from all angles before deciding how he truly felt. “I think it’s time to consider ways to bring me back…or to let me go…”

  Jordan sat for quite some time before he spoke. Then he said, simply, “We have tried five times to complete the surgery, Admiral…five times with the best teams available. And we’re 0-5. And by 0-5, I mean five dead participants. We’re not even sure it can be removed.”

  “But you haven’t tried one for a while, have you? You’ve made progress, I know you have…and my apparatus is off, or at least it seems to be. I think all of the others you operated on were fully functional. There are a lot of differences.”

  “Admiral Stockton, I’m not going to lie to you. We’re going to try again…soon. And the status of your Collar is very tempting. But we have no idea if it would make any difference…and you’re the only one with a malfunctional Collar anyway, so it’s…”

  “Pointless…”

  “No, Admiral, not pointless. But you would be a…difficult…target. And you would be a specific one as well. All things considered, you’re probably not the ideal choice for the next candidate…not when we have so many…”

  “So many enemies?” Stockton knew that was the case, of course…but he was also the only one who’d overcome—at least for the moment—his Collar. “And what value do you place on my Collar being apparently dead? How much value does that offer? What is my desire for the surgery to be successful worth?”

  “A lot,” the doctor said, after a fairly long delay. “But that doesn’t mean it is the smart play…and even if it is, you know the problems. The enemy targets are…well enemies. And it’s still difficult to perform the surgery on them. On you, it would be…”

  Stockton sighed. “So, what you’re really saying is, I’m the one that makes the most sense—because you’re never going to convince me otherwise—but I’m out of reach. Because of who I am.” He paused for a few seconds, and then he added, “Who I was.”

  The doctor looked away for a few seconds before he returned Stockton’s gaze. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Admiral. You know you’re the most important—” He thought a while, trying, Stockton thought, to come up with a word other than ‘captive.’ “—possible candidate. But I don’t think you can be the next, not until we successfully removed one of these, at least.” The doctor halted for a moment, but then he continued. “The situation is changing, quickly…both for and against us. Just be patient and wait. Just for a while. Perhaps our next surgery will go significantly better than the earlier ones.” Another pause. “It’s really the best thing you can do…and it might not be that long a wait.”

  Stockton turned and nodded. “I know you’re right, Doctor…it’s just difficult. I will…wait. For a while at least.”

  “That’s good, Admiral.” The doctor stood up and looked back down at Stockton. “We’ll be doing another surgery soon…and if it goes well, perhaps we will be able to work on you sooner rather than later. Just be patient.”

  Stockton looked up and nodded, and the doctor turned and left. Then his facial expression changed entirely.

  He stared defiantly, and his hands clenched. He was going to be next, somehow, some way. And he knew the only likely way to achieve that goal was to get Admiral Barron onboard. It wouldn’t be easy, certainly, but it was the way.

  The only way.

  Stockton leaned back on his bed, and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure, not remotely, that he would survive the surgery. There were a hundred things he knew that could go wrong, and even more he didn’t know about. But he was sure of one thing, as sure as he’d ever been of anything.

  He wanted to get back to what he’d been…if that was even possible. And if it wasn’t…well, if it wasn’t, he’d just as soon die on the table.

  Chapter Three

  Forward Base Striker

  Vasa Denaris System

  Year 329 AC (After the Cataclysm)

  “What do you think? What do you really think?” Akella spoke as she poured two drinks, handing one to Chronos. “I mean it…what do you really think?”

  Chronos reached out and grabbed the drink…and he took a quick gulp before he answered. “Well, my answer to all parties would be I’m completely with Admiral Barron. I believe we have to do everything possible to fight off the enemy…conventionally.”

  “That’s a great answer when you’re asked in another setting…but I want the truth, the whole truth.”

  “That is the truth, at least for now.” Chronos paused again, and he took another drink. “But I will be honest with you, if the formula is correct, if the first effort goes as well as those promoting it say it will, I am…uncertain.”

  “You might be in favor of changing your view, of pushing your support to the other side?” Normally, Akella’s tone would have been accusatory, but this time, she was as neutral as could be.

  Chronos just stared back for a moment, and he finished his drink. Then, he said, simply, “No…not exactly. Not yet at least.” That wasn’t all, however, and a few seconds later, he added, “I have come around completely to seeing our alliance with the Rim-dwellers as a core issue…but we’re on the verge of a break. You know as well as I, that this fortress can’t stand another assault, not one that comes within two years. And now, the Alliance has a second front, eating up a large portion of its new production. Meanwhile, we’ve got barely forty percent of our Hegemony worlds…and if the enemy attacks within the next year, perhaps as many as two, we’re going to be faced with the question. Do we pull back? Do we fight? Do we fall back to the Confederation frontier?” Chronos didn’t say anything else. Akella understood what he was saying…all of what he was saying.

  An instant later, she proved just that. “You feel that if it comes to the choice of a withdrawal so far back…we’d have a better chance fighting it out up here, with the new…weaponry. Assuming, of course, the first effort shows the success we hope it does?” She looked down and then added, “At least the success we think we hope it shows.”

  “I’m not saying that, not quite. But I am saying we’ll have to really consider what we’re willing to do. The Council is difficult…and if the question comes before them to pull back, to abandon the rest of our territory, you know what they will choose. It doesn’t matter what you and I decide we’ll do…as far as I can tell, the Council is pretty much dedicated to holding on. They will refuse to agree to back down, and the Confederation and Alliance will have to decide whether to split off, fight alone…or stay in the battle with the Hegemony forces. No doubt, Barron has considered that reality…but he may assume that the members of the Council will vote based on reality, on the fact that the Hegemony has fallen in relative power and is no longer the major partner. I can accept that fact, if barely, but I do not believe the Council will. So that means, the Confederation and the Alliance will have to decide whether to break off from the Hegemony…or to remain tied to the current front lines.”

  Chronos paused for a moment, and then he continued, “Don’t fool yourself, Akella…you can argue all you want, but the Council is not going to vote to abandon the rest of the Hegemony. At least probably not. You know that. You’ll get your own vote, and mine…but I doubt many others. You’ll lose…and if you push too hard for it, you’ll end up getting ejected from the Council entirely, one way or another.”

  Akella had been silent for a while, but now she just nodded. Chronos was right. She had enough clout to stay in command, at least for the time being, but if she seriously suggested pulling the fleet completely out of Hegemony space she would probably lose.

  “So, you’re saying our choice is fighting here, more or less, one way or the other. Either with or without the—possible—germ element.” She phrased it like a question, but it was, more or less, what she’d been looking at herself. “Or we stand up to the Council, despite the challenges…or even split with them, and try to issue our own edict to the fleet. Remember, that’s all that really matters now…what’s left of the fleet.”

  Chronos stared back at her. For a moment, he looked as though he had seen a light, but only for a passing instant. “That is tempting, Akella…but I’m not sure it is workable. We’d get some captains for sure, even some crews. But how many? A quarter? A third? Remember, ordering the forces to abandon the entire Hegemony is contrary to everything they’ve ever learned, ever been taught. We’ll lose loyal ships, Akella, a lot of them. And while the split of the Confederation and Alliance forces from our own will already condemn both sides to destruction, draining away even one-fourth from our forces will only further consign the remaining Council forces to an even worse and more rapid fate.”