Empire in Crisis (6 page)

“Ah, well ah…I don’t know off hand—“

“That answer is not acceptable, Admiral. You
should know. Get to the Flag Bridge and find out. When you know the answer,
contact the Palace. I’ll be waiting for your call, and I’ll be keeping track of
how long I have to wait for 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 arrived at the
Palace, DeChastelaine had changed into something more fitting of his title.
Running around the Palace in a silk bathrobe in front of his personal staff was
acceptable, but interacting with visitors called for clothes that conferred a
little more dignity.

It didn’t take Hood long to drop the next
bombshell on her Emperor. “My Emperor, I’ve checked the service records of
Corvosier’s senior officers. He has three two-star admirals under him. I regret
to report that the best of the three is only marginally better at combat
tactics than Corvosier himself. The difference is so small that there’s not
much to be gained by promoting Corvosier’s replacement from within the 107th.”

DeChastelaine was seated close to Hood and
Logan at a computer station. He turned to look at Logan. “If you have any
suggestions on how we can prevent the loss of an entire fleet, SubCommander,
I’m willing to listen.”

Logan exchanged a quick look with Hood and then
cleared his throat. “I can think of two options, My Emperor. Commander Hood and
I can scan the service records of every officer in the 107th and try to
identify the ones who are best at combat tactics. Hopefully that fleet will
have at least one officer who is significantly better than average. If we find
such an individual, a personal message from My Emperor could be sent ordering
Admiral Corvosier to listen to and follow the tactical recommendations of that
officer without officially putting that officer in command of the fleet.”

“Hmm. If Corvosier is capable of putting his
ego aside, that might work, but I wouldn’t want to have to count on that. You
said you had two ideas. What’s the second one?”

“We find an exceptionally good tactician here
and send him or her out to the 107th with an Imperial Warrant authorizing them
to assume temporary command and hope they get there in time.”

DeChastelaine turned to Hood. “How fast could
we get someone to that fleet, Commander?”

Hood had the answer within seconds. “A hundred
forty-three hours from the time the ship leaves orbit. It would have to be a
light cruiser. Luckily Capital Fleet still has some.”

DeChastelaine turned to look at Logan. “So we
can either spend time looking for someone who is as skillful as you are, or I
can just send you. Here’s your chance to command a fleet, SubCommander Logan.”
In spite of the seriousness of the situation, DeChastelaine was able to see the
humor in Logan’s momentary look of panic

“May I remind My Emperor that officers who have
just received their first star typically spend a year at the Flag Officers
College where among other things they receive training in advanced fleet combat
tactics. The training at the Academy for cadets is usually ship-to-ship or
involving small formations. Without the advanced training, I may not be any
more competent than Fleet Admiral Corvosier.”

DeChastelaine mentally chastised himself for
his oversight. He had gone through the Academy himself, and he now remembered
those combat simulations. Sending Logan in cold to command a fleet without any
previous experience or training was not only unfair to Logan, but was also asking
for a disaster that would kill or ruin an officer with a lot of potential. An
idea came to him.

“You raise a legitimate point, SubCommander.
Here is what I want both of you to do. Commander Hood, you will initiate a
search of records for officers in the 107th and identify the best three. Logan,
you will perform the same kind of search of officers in Capital Fleet and SFHQ.
Start at the top of the command chain and work your way down until you either
find an exceptionally good tactician or I tell you to stop, whichever comes
first. I’ll want a briefing from both of you in…four hours time. Any
questions?”

Neither had any, and DeChastelaine left them to
get started. He quickly made his way back to the video conference room and had
the Comm. Center get the Superintendent of the Space Force Academy on the line.
The woman didn’t seem surprised to be called by the Emperor in the middle of
the night.

“I’ve heard about the alien attack. How may I
assist My Emperor?” she said in a calm tone.

DeChastelaine was able to see the irony in the
fact that this officer, who was not in the chain of command, had heard of the
attack while Hiakawa, the Space Force Officer at the very top of that chain of
command, still wasn’t aware of it.

“I don’t have time go into the details, but
suffice it to say I have a very good mid-level officer who may have to take
temporary command of a fleet. He has no fleet command experience and he hasn’t
taken the Advanced Fleet Combat course. What is the minimum amount of time
needed for someone to take that course on a crash basis, Admiral?”

“With practice sessions in the simulators, I’d
estimate the minimum would be three hundred hours, My Emperor.”

DeChastelaine shook his head. “No. That’s too
long by about a factor of two. If you eliminate the simulator sessions, how
much time does that save?”

She stared off into space for a few seconds
before replying. “It depends on the individual. Someone with a very good
instinct for tactical thinking might be able to get through all the material in
half the time.”

“Good! I want the instruction material
assembled in a format that an officer can use while in transit aboard one of
our light cruisers. Time is of the essence here, Admiral. I want that light
cruiser to break out of orbit in a matter of hours not days. How soon can you
have that material ready?”

“The more time I have, the better organized the
material will be, My Emperor. I can have something ready in two hours but a
package that will do a better job of upgrading your officer’s skills will take
at least six hours.”

“I understand. Try to get that six-hour
estimate down if possible, and have the two hour version ready in case we need
to go with that. Any questions?”

“Just one, My Emperor. Where shall I have the
material delivered?”

“Notify the Guard when either one is ready, and
they’ll send someone to pick it up. When you’ve finished this ad hoc
assignment, I want that six-hour package to be upgraded until it’s as
comprehensive and streamlined as possible in a portable format in case we need
to do something like this again.”

“Would My Emperor be thinking in terms of
distributing this upgraded version to promising junior officers throughout the
fleets?”

DeChastelaine was about to say no but stopped
when he realized what an intriguing idea that was.

“Possibly. When we have more time, I’d like you
to come to the Palace so that we can discuss that and any other ideas you may
have to quickly improve the combat skills of my fleet officers. My staff will
arrange a time. Thank you for your assistance, Admiral. Good night.”

When the Guard advised him that a training
package had been picked up at the Academy, DeChastelaine decided that he had
waited long enough. Getting the light cruiser to the 107th two hours sooner
might make the difference between a good and bad outcome. The focused
expressions on Hood’s and Logan’s faces when he walked into the room told him
that they weren’t finished their searches.

“I know I gave you four hours, but I can’t wait
that long. What have you found so far, Commander Hood?”

Hood leaned back from her console and took a
deep breath. “I’ve evaluated over a hundred officers currently assigned to the
107th, and the best three so far, while above average in tactical combat skill,
are not good enough to be considered outstanding, not even close to good
enough, in fact. The 107th, like most of the Rift fleets, seems to have been
used as a dumping ground for the barely competent.”

DeChastelaine nodded and looked at Logan.
“SubCommander?”

Logan looked uncomfortable. His body language
told the Emperor that he wasn’t happy with his results. “I regret to report
that I’ve only been able to evaluate the top fifty flag officers in the HQ
chain of command, and while the majority are above average in tactical skills,
none of them are significantly better than average. I think I might have better
luck with Capital Fleet, My Emperor.”