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and then paused, "or is it?"
"We've received a couple of reports over the last year of a new project of
theirs to improve their equipment. But nothing is confirmed."
Thrakhath nodded.
"Use courier ships, then."
"It is too far away to be efficient and too dangerous. The tactical,
strategic, and operational updates comprise tens of trillions of bits of
information right down to the need for a replacement screw. The signals back
from Kilrah also send out the key information obtained by our intelligence
operatives regarding all new information regarding Earth defenses. If we had
to suddenly launch a preemptive strike without warning, the fleet must know on
a daily basis the latest information
regarding events across the Empire, the demilitarized zones, and inside
Confederation space. The fleet in hiding needs this information instantly, and
we need to know instantly what its needs are, a time delay of eight and four
or more days is dangerous."
"So what do you suggest?"
"Keep the communications open."
The Prince hesitated for a moment.
"How secure is the encoding?"
"Our intelligence indicates that the Confederation was breaking our latest
fleet code just as the armistice was reached. However, every five eights of
standard days, we changed the code anyhow. We could place our latest one in,
and reduce signal traffic to essentials only, keeping the burst signals to
under a second each way."
Thrakhath nodded. He could see the admiral's point If the
Confederation picked up signal traffic going in and out of Hari territory, it
might draw notice, but then in order to do so, even if they could upgrade
their equipment, it would require a penetration into the Empire.
"Do so and inform our counterintelligence to keep careful watch inside the
Confederation as to any actions which might indicate that they know something
or are planning some action."
"So far we have detected absolutely none."
There is never an absolute in war, the friction of war always causes a
breakdown. You have your orders, now leave me."
The admiral backed out of the room.
Prince Thrakhath settled back down at his desk and then turned to look out the
small oval window. In the darkness of space beyond he could see a long sliver
of reflected light.
Craxha
, the third of the new carriers to have just completed its first transjump
engine testing, was coming back in to dock. Tomorrow the first squadron of
fighters, transferred from one of the now drydocked carriers would start to
come aboard.
The ship turned slowly, lining up on the drydock pylon which jutted out from
the massive orbital base. He sat quietly, watching the maneuver intently.
Docking a ship of such massive size was a difficult maneuver and the commander
on board performed it flawlessly.
Good, he had chosen that one well.
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He turned away and looked back at his commscreen, intently studying the latest
intelligence report provided by the hrai spies of the Imperial family.
It wasn't good.
He closed his eyes, silently cursing the Baron. There was no denying that the
initial plan of the Baron, to have a temporary armistice, was indeed a good
one, no matter how humiliating it might be. Later, once things were finished,
the blame for the humiliation could be shifted back to the Baron and away from
the shoulders of the Imperial line.
It was the inner intent of the Baron which was disturbing. Already he was
trying to marshal support from the other clans against the Imperial blood,
while quietly working to extend the armistice far out beyond the original
intent It was obvious now that the true intent was to let the armistice
continue, place the ultimate blame on the Emperor, and then somehow seize
power himself. When that was accomplished this new fleet would fall into his
hands, he would overawe the humans with it and thus secure victory and his own
control of the throne.
The alternative, the Prince realized, was to preemptively strike on the humans
right now. But the problem was that the fleet was not yet ready for that It
would be at least another six eights of days before the fourth carrier came on
line. All battle simulations had shown that the full strength of twelve
carriers was needed for an overwhelming victory.
Beyond that, the twelve carriers would need more than forty eighties of
fighters and, more importantly, trained pilots, for them to be useful. So far
he had drawn pilots only from those hrai truly loyal to the throne. That was
the difficult part of the equation. Far too many of the Imperial Guard pilots
had been lost at Vukar, and it would be at least another year before their
losses were made good.
If he delayed, his military strength would grow, and the humans would weaken,
lulled by the false peace. That they would be so stupid had caused him to lose
whatever respect he had once held for them as foes worthy of the testing of
steel.
There was the chance as well that some in the Confederation military might try
to get the hard evidence regarding the new fleet and its intended target That
they even had suspicion of its existence had been a blow, the information
revealed by their all so foolish traitor.
Turning her had been so easy, he thought with a cold smile. Her only son had
been captured during the Third Enigma campaign. That was a prize to be sure.
Her discontent with the war, and her political ambitions to replace the
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