As the battle dragged on into its second day, both sides were wearing down appreciably.
The pirates had hoped to win the war with a quick, decisive stroke so that they could
proclaim their new regime before the outlying sectors of the Empire could respond to the
crisis. That dream had died, now, and with it had gone much of the rebels’ spirit. The
Navy had a cause to fight for, while the insurgents had only their own greed propelling
them forward. If they did not capture their goal soon, they would not have time to
consolidate their gains before the rest of the Empire rose in protest.
With this in mind, Admiral Shen decided on one last bold stroke: an all-out assault on
Earth. Ignoring the Navy ships at their rear, the pirate vessels dived at their target in a
suicidal charge. Their blasters were firing continuously, pouring incalculable amounts of
energy down at the harried remnants of Earth’s defense. Perhaps it might have worked if
they hadn’t been so successful before at pushing the defense net in tightly against the
atmosphere; but the ships protecting the mother planet were now packed so closely
together that their firing ranges overlapped. The destruction of even three ships in a given
area made little difference; their neighbors were able to hold up the net and prevent a
single attacker from slipping through. The rebels ended up losing fully ten percent of their
ships in that one attempt to break through-and still the Earth was intact.
Then, dropping out of subspace barely fifty million kilometers away, came the
reinforcements Benevenuto had been expecting-a compact grouping of more than a
thousand ships, all fresh and eager for battle. In the War Room, still tense after the
narrow escape from the suicide charge, a rousing cheer went up as the new arrivals
were spotted on the screens-and this cheer was echoed all down the line of command as
the word was spread.
The rebels’ reaction, needless to say, was quite different. Their attack, which once had
looked so unbeatable, had failed. There was no way they could expect to hold their own
against the now-superior Imperial forces, nor could they expect to be shown any mercy if
they surrendered. Their only course lay in flight, and Admiral Shen was wise enough to
take it. He gave the general order to retreat, and his ships fled from the Earth at top
speed.
The Navy, smelling blood, hastened in pursuit. Crews who’d thought themselves nearly
dead of exhaustion suddenly found renewed strength to join the chase. The tight defense
net that had ringed the Earth suddenly evaporated. There was no longer any use for it;
the attackers were on the run.
All told, nearly two-thirds of the enemy fleet was either destroyed or captured by the end
of battle. Many of those who escaped did so in disorganization; there is no evidence that
they ever rejoined the conspiracy against the Throne, their crews contenting themselves,
instead, with becoming ordinary pirates once more. Most of them were eventually
rounded up by the Navy during the course of its normal anti-pirate activities. Only
twenty-five percent of Admiral Shen’s once-mighty armada remained intact and returned
to some hidden base to lick its wounds and prepare-perhaps-for new battles.
While the Navy pursued its duty of rounding up the remaining rebel ships, it was for
Earth-and indeed, for the entire Empire-a moment of great relief. Once again the unity of
Mankind among the stars had been maintained. The battle that was to be known forever
afterward as the Coronation Day Incursion was over.
Chapter 19
Breathing Room
When the commanding officer of the final contingent of reinforcements had a chance to
make his report to Command Central-after the pandemonium brought on by the victory
had died down in the halls of Luna Base-he had a strange tale to tell. His fleet, as per
their orders, had been waiting in the vicinity of the supposed pirate rendezvous point.
They had checked with the intelligence operatives at the scene, and had been told that
everything was going as it had been planned. Accordingly, the fleet set out to intercept
the pirates at the rendezvous point.
They never made it there, and it was fortunate they didn’t. They learned that the entire
region of space had been mined, and their force would have been decimated had they
materialized there. Instead, they altered course and flew directly to Earth, where their
presence decided the outcome of the battle.
What had stopped them was, in the words of one captain, “the craziest damned pilot I
ever saw in my life.” While still in subspace, the lead ships detected the presence of
another vessel. It was flying in circles, spirals and indescribable, irrational patterns, like a
housefly on LSD or durambitol. No natural object could move like that, and no sane pilot
would.
It was as though whoever controlled that ship were pushing buttons at random to make it
go.
And that was exactly what it was. Unsure what to make of this apparition, the fleet
stopped to investigate, and found a small scout ship manned by an agent of SOTE who
warned them of the danger ahead. He told them they must proceed to Earth at all
possible speed. They took him aboard with them, and he explained the story in more
detail along the way, omitting only those classified items for which the captain did not
have a “need to know.”
Mop up operations were begun a few days later, as soon as the Navy had time to
recover from the near fatal battle. A contingent of small scout ships was dispatched to
the phony rendezvous site to sweep the field and destroy all active mines that could pose
a hazard to future astrogation. Commander Fortier-assured of an imminent promotion to
captain for his outstanding work in this case-returned to the secret world of the pirate
base to pick up Yvette Bavol. The SOTE agent had not been idle while the battle was
going on. All told, nearly thirty pirates had been left behind by Shen to guard the base;
Yvette had rounded them up single-handedly and had waited, confident an Imperial ship
would soon come to take the prisoners off her hands. She and her prisoners were
transported back to Earth in triumph.
On the planet Gastonia, SOTE agents rounded up the Governor and his crooked aides,
holding them on charges of treason. There was no trace, however, of either Lady A or
Tanya Boros; both women had made good their escape once they were sure their plan
had worked.
Throughout the Empire, the mood of the people was one of elation. Not only did they
have a new Empress, but she’d already weathered one of the most frightening
challenges a monarch could be called on to face. Not once had she lost her composure.
Not once had she behaved as anything less than the Empress her people had a right to
expect. The people of the Galaxy knew now that Emperor Stanley Ten had made one
more wise decision in passing on his title to such an able and dedicated young woman.
The elation did not extend, however, to the office at SOTS Headquarters where the
d’Alemberts and the Bavols reconvened with their leader and his daughter. The faces
there were long indeed. Though the events of recent days may have seemed a triumph
to the rest of humanity, the people in this room knew better. From the very beginning
they had let Lady A lead them around by their noses, doing exactly what she expected of
them–and in the end, only the good fortune of Commander Fortier’s surviving his double’s
ambush enabled them to weather the experience.
The Head could read the dejection so plain on his agents’ faces, and refused to let them
dwell on their failures. “In a way,” he spoke up, “Lady A was paying us a high
compliment. It was only because she knew you were such good agents that she could
make her plans that intricately. Lesser people might have fumbled along the way, and
couldn’t be counted on.”
“Somehow,” Pias said, “that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“The fact remains,” Jules agreed, “that because of us, the Navy was under prepared for
one of the most decisive battles in history.”
“What’s to keep us from falling for her tricks again?” Vonnie added.
“The same stubborn pride that makes you feel so bad now,” the Head smiled. “Khorosho,
you were fooled-badly. Anyone can be fooled once. The best of us don’t make the same
mistake twice-and Lady A knows that as well as I do. If she were to set you up this way
again, you’d spot it in a second and her plan would backfire in her face. I don’t think she’ll
try that trick again.”
“No, she’ll think up new ones,” Pias agreed. “She’s funny that way.”
“How much of what she told us can we believe?” Vonnie asked. “Anything?”