"Soderstrom, what was that?" he enquired coolly.
After a short delay Soderstrom appeared in Harald's eye-screen. "An explosion in Stormfollower's engine galleries. Understandably, Tlaster Cobe isn't speaking to me."
Harald opened some connections to Stormfollower, and his view into the stricken ship's Bridge showed it to be partially abandoned, though the Captain still stood there surveying the Firing Control screens. Then, attempting to link to cameras in the engine galleries, Harald found they were all blanked out, which could be due to either the explosion or to sabotage. He began running checks through the entire vessel and soon found what had happened. From a camera forward of the galleries, he observed a party of three crewmen in space-suits moving through a section he had opened to vacuum on seizing control of this same ship.
"Soderstrom," he snapped, an ugly suspicion rooting itself in his mind, "that ship was slaved to yours. So you knew precisely what to watch out for."
"With the greatest respect, Admiral Harald, running one hilldigger during a battle is enough of a chore. Attempting to also control two others whose crews are out to thwart you is no easy task."
Harald made a comlink through to the Bridge of Stormfollower. "Captain Cobe, I see that you have managed to cripple your own ship."
The Captain looked up directly into the Bridge camera. In a timeless gesture he held up his fist and extended his mid finger, then returned his attention to his screens. Gazing at his own screens Harald observed that Harvester and Musket were parting company with Stormfollower. He also observed that Soderstrom was running a security check on Musket, and as yet had found no attempts at sabotage. The sudden violent surge of anger he felt caught him off guard. Desperately trying to control it, he found himself panting and tightly gripping his chair arms. But the feeling would not go away, and in the end there seemed only one way to assuage it: he must sacrifice something to his rage. On making that decision he felt some degree of control return, so he linked in again to the systems of Stormfollower, then struggled with a quartered eye-screen as he programmed in the alterations he had to make. After a moment he observed the blue-red flames of the steering thrusters igniting down one side of the crippled hilldigger. Finally he spoke to the Bridge of that ship again—and to Musket too, so the Captain there might know the cost of rebellion.
"Captain Cobe," he began, with gritted teeth. When the Captain did not look up, Harald continued. "If you check your navigation control, you will see that I have input a program to your steering thrusters. They will sufficiently change your trajectory to take you down towards Sudoria. If Combine does not destroy you first, you will enter atmosphere in eight hours' time and begin to burn up. What remains of you and your ship should impact the Brak sea only a little while after that." Cobe looked up at last. "Harald, out."
17
The downsizing of Fleet after the War and the almost explosive growth of Orbital Combine has caused a power shift in Sudorian politics. But a hundred years of dominance and tradition is not something easy to put aside. For all this time the social and economic system of Sudoria had been a support industry for Fleet, and at the end of the War almost one-third of Sudorians were either serving in Fleet itself or working in the orbital war industries. Fleet began to lose its grip on power when Corisanthe Main was essentially removed from its control by Parliament and new high-tech industries began to burgeon from there. Fleet's grip was further loosened by the simple fact that people were tired of war, and rather liked the idea of making some money and better lives for themselves. Conscription continued, but since the Brumallians had been bombed into near oblivion, few saw any further point in it, and meanwhile GDS became disinclined to hunt down draft dodgers. Fleet power has therefore been on the wane for some time, but the people of Sudoria must remain forever vigilant. Like some big beast in its death throes, Fleet might strike out again and, with the hilldiggers still under its control, its last bite might kill us all. Though the very idea of civil war was unthinkable twenty years ago, now it is a very real possibility.
— Uskaron
Director Gneiss
He observed Stormfollower first hanging crippled in space, then being sent on a new trajectory by its steering thrusters. The injured ship would pass close to Defence Platform Seven, which he felt would only need to keep its shields up as a precaution, since it struck him as unlikely that it was a target. However, Harald might still have control of Stormfollower's weapons, so should Combine send rescue craft to intercept it? It seemed obvious that Tlaster Cobe had taken a similar route to the one Orvram Davidson intended to take. Gneiss wondered if the latter Captain might have changed his mind now. Perhaps not, for the nature of his sabotage was subtle and might not even be found out.
The other two hilldiggers, Harvester and Musket, were now pounding away at Corisanthe II, whilst Wildfire and Resilience were together hitting Corisanthe III. Gneiss had warned Glass to keep sufficient weapons free for the moment those three shield generators on Resilience went down. Taking one ship out of play there would give some relief to Glass's station, though it still remained in danger of being destroyed.
The Director now turned his attention to Ironfist and Desert Wind. Both ships were rapidly heading down into the gap Fleet had created, and Gneiss contemplated the loose thread that could completely unravel Combine's defences, for putting those two vessels below the level of the platforms would take them out of the firing arc of Combine's big guns. From there Harald would be able to steadily work his way around the planet, obliterating every Defence Platform and perhaps much of Combine's industrial base and infrastructure as well. Of course it would not come to that, because at some point wavering members of the Oversight Committee would be contemplating the destruction of everything they had helped build and authorise the deployment of gravtech weapons, despite collateral damage caused to the planet below. Gneiss naturally would then vote against the committee majority.
When hungry I deny it, when thirsty I don't drink. All the pressure forcing me to do what I must do, I counter, and so at last manage to remain me.
He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed at his temples. Did he want Fleet to wipe out all the Defence Platforms and knock Orbital Combine from its place in the sky? Did he so abhor that stagnation to which Dalepan had referred while drugged out of his mind that he was prepared to countenance the destruction of Combine to end it? With robotic precision he had always carried out his duties as they were considered appropriate by Oversight. He did not stint in that respect, yet at his core he felt almost despair at the prospect of his own organisation repelling Fleet—and as a consequence his own situation here remaining unchanged. It was a dilemma he could not resolve—one that had held him in stasis ever since that time in Ozark One when he had first felt that other will. He gazed at his screens, trying to find some way out without losing himself. A contact icon lit, and he automatically opened it.
"I've received a rather strange message from one of Chairman Duras's staff," said Dalepan, who was gazing out at him with an expression twisted by some strange emotion.