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“Councilor, you try my patience.”
“I apologize, Empress, but circumstances change, no matter how we may wish them not to.”
“Atkinson and his incompetence,” fumed Newling. “If not for him, we never would have gotten to this point!”
“I know, Empress. I’ve been on him constantly, urging him to perform better.”
“And my wonderful Aunt Daria and her insistence we not simply bomb the rebels. This could have ended almost before it began!”
“Again, Empress, we could not have foreseen the changes in fortune we’ve experienced.” Phalkon was skilled at defusing the Empress, but today was proving especially challenging.
“And now this! ‘The United Earth Government is temporarily suspending efforts requested by the Union of Artemis for relief until such time as the internal affairs on Luna are resolved.’ Pah!” She threw the permaplast sheet down.
“Empress, this can all work in our favor,” Phalkon purred.
“You speak as if you expect me to believe you. Why should I? Since you’ve become my First Councilor, nothing good has happened!”
“Please, allow me to explain! In a lunar, the al-Battani will return, trailed by the Federation starship. They will pass through the warp minefield safely, while the starship is torn asunder by the mines. Simultaneously our new fighters will launch an attack on the habitat, drawing their attention away from the fleet you’ve arranged to be deployed from Mars. Between these three events, the Federation will have no time to spend watching Luna, and we can finish the rebels quickly!”
Newling, still scowling, said, “Elaborate.”
“Let me run through two scenarios, Empress. The one which won’t be, and the one that could.”
Newling nodded.
“Our original plan was to use the nerve agent on the rebels and deal with the fallout. I had thought, perhaps, we could create a ruse wherein we might blame the rebels for their own demise.”
Newling interrupted her. “How?”
“I asked Atkinson about using one of the partially-completed frigates to plant a bomb atop one of Tycho’s cargo lifts, then detonating it after the BZ had done its work. The atmosphere would be vented, clearing the evidence of any nerve agent, but causing little structural damage.”
“Clever. Go on.”
“There would be confusion regarding the cause of the death for an entire warren, Empress. By the time we rebuffed all efforts to investigate and blame us, we would lose any momentum we might have gained by crushing the rebels. And the attempted investigations would make our other efforts more difficult. Our minefield, which we are even now emplacing by calling them ‘navigation satellites’ to get around the Federation’s illegal embargo, would almost certainly attract more notice than it has.”
“Meddling groundhogs.”
“Yes. And they’d want to see everything, including our construction yards where the fighters are being built. When our attack came it would be piecemeal and possibly defeated.”
Even the Empress had to admit the Federation had a nasty habit of foiling their plans.
“Now, Empress, imagine the second scenario. Everything happening, all at once: a destroyed starship, a full-on fighter attack, and a surprise fleet assault. Even if these attacks only partially succeed, we know the weakness of the Federation.”
“What’s that?”
“Cassidy. Specifically, Admiral Cassidy. She is inexperienced in war, yet she holds all the power, makes all the important decisions. What will she choose? Will she try to save any survivors from the starship? Likely; she’s soft. What about the fighters? Will she underestimate their capabilities? Possibly; probably. Could she disregard the capacity of the Martians? Certainly. Crucially, though, she will have to decide, and she will make mistakes. We can take advantage of that, overwhelm her ability to think, and force poor decisions.”
Now Newling had the idea and decided to elaborate.
“Why use a frigate?”
“They are the most expendable of our ships, Empress.”
“No, I mean, why a military ship? Wouldn’t Tycho be less likely to oppose a landing by a freighter?”
“Oh, I see. Yes, I believe they would. And since smuggling is a way of life for those degenerates, a suitable bribe and no inspection will be made. How to find a loyal crew, though,” mused Phalkon.
“Why?”
“Pardon?”
“Do what you did to get the BZ. Buy a bomb on Earth from someone, have it placed aboard a freighter along with a cargo, then deliver it all to Tycho. Schedule it to coordinate with the other attacks, and then have the bomb detonate from a timer.”
“Excellent, Empress! You have a gift for tactics!”
Phalkon’s blatant flattery was sufficient to put to rest the remainder of Newling’s ire.
“When should the al-Battani return?”
“Roughly a lunar. I’ll have to check for the exact date.”
“Coordinate it all. I don’t care what you have to do, whose ego you bruise, I want you in charge of this operation from this point forward.”
“I serve, Empress.”
“Where are you going to get the bomb?”
“I have a source on Earth, Empress. Someone who wishes to be free of the Federation almost as much as we desire it.”
“Fine. I leave the details to you.” Newling returned her attention to her work, then a thought pulled her back.
“Phalkon.”
She stopped backing out of the room. “Empress?”
“Have you heard from our agent?”
“Yes, Empress; only one message, but he has earned their trust and been granted broad access to much of their most sensitive information.”
“Will he be in position to help us?”
“I believe so; I have only received the one message. As he gains more freedom from scrutiny, we will plan more.”
“Very good.”
Phalkon waited a few seconds before leaving this time. When she returned to her office, she immediately sent a signal.
Must discuss plans.
Moments later, she got her reply:
Tomorrow. Fourteen. CD