Free Empire in Crisis by Dietmar Wehr Page A

it. Don’t make me wait too long, Admiral. I’m not
in a good mood.” Before the shocked officer could respond, DeChastelaine cut
off the connection. He then told the Comm. Center to contact Commander Hood. It
only took a few seconds, but the connection was audio only, which made
DeChastelaine smile. Apparently Corrinne Hood did not want her Emperor to see
her when she had just woken up. For a half second he wondered if it was her
sleep attire or lack thereof that was making her shy.
     
    He quickly told her of the new situation and of
the DCSFO’s recommendations. “What’s your opinion of those recommendations,
Commander?”
     
    “I, ah, can’t see any obvious flaws in his
reasoning, My Emperor. As long as the Rift fleets don’t let themselves get
pulled out of position and stick to careful recon operations, the risk of
another surprise like this is small.”
     
    “And your opinion of the Admiral commanding the
107th?” asked DeChastelaine.
     
    “I’d have to check my datafiles, My Emperor.
I’m sorry that I don’t have that information memorized.”
     
    DeChastelaine nodded. Her datafiles included
the sorting of all 3-star admirals including fleet commanders by ability. He
had access to that data himself now. He proceeded to call up the file and
quickly scanned it until he found the record for the 107th Fleet.
     
    “I just remembered that I have that data, and
it’s in front of me now, Commander. The 107th Fleet Commander is Fleet Admiral
Pierre Corvosier, and he’s near the bottom of the list.”
     
    Hood thought for a few seconds and then said,
“His Deputy Fleet Commander might be more capable.”
     
    DeChastelaine sighed. “Even if that was the
case, I suspect that relieving Corvosier of his command might just be enough to
make Hiakawa order the marines down here.”
     
    “Not if you promote Corvosier and order him
back to the Capital, leaving his DFC in temporary command, My Emperor.”
     
    DeChastelaine chuckled. Hood was right. There
were so many 4-star admirals at HQ already that one more wouldn’t make much
difference, and if the promotion was a temporary one, he could always rescind
it later when the prospect of battle was low.
     
    “I had no idea you were that devious, Commander
Hood. I like it. Can you access Space Force service records from your home?”
     
    “Unfortunately no, My Emperor. Access to those
records is limited to authorized HQ personnel and to staff on Palace premises
only.”
     
    “Well in that case, I want you back here as
quickly as possible. I’ll arrange to have a Guard vehicle pick you up.” He
paused. “And now that I think of it, I’m going to have a Guard vehicle pick up
SubCommander Logan and have him brought to the Palace too. I suspect that
you’re going to need help over the next few hours. Don’t worry, Commander. You
can sleep all you want when this war is over.”
     
    “That’s good to know, My Emperor. I’ll be ready
by the time the Guard get here.”
     
    “In that case, I won’t keep you any longer,
Commander.” With the connection broken, he called the senior Guard officer on
duty and told her to arrange the pickups. No sooner was he finished with that
task than the Comm. Center notified him of an incoming call from Capital
Fleet’s flagship.
     
    “My Emperor, I have that information you
requested. Capital Fleet can be ready to leave orbit in three hours if needed,”
said the 4-star admiral who was now looking much more awake.
     
    DeChastelaine was surprised that it wasn’t
longer, but then he remembered that Capital Fleet no longer had any
battlecruiser or heavy cruiser squadrons, and therefore getting people on leave
back to their ships and topping up the ships’ supplies of consumables was less
of a problem.
     
    “Make sure it is, Admiral,” said DeChastelaine
with what he hoped was sufficient menace in his voice. He cut the connection
before the Admiral could say anything else.
     
    By the time Hood and Logan