Brad stood beside Captain Crisper and surveyed
the scene in the tank on the Dragon's bridge. Scarf
lounged in an accello-net within sight and sound,
as he had for most of the voyage from Pluto.
The Dragon's pilot and communicator, upper bodies
insulated in instrumented cubicles, concentrated
on their tasks. Arms folded across his chest, Zolan
stood along a bulkhead where his eyes could take
in the full compartment without altering stance.
Ahead lay Triton in its retrograde orbit around
Neptune. The moon's expanse was only partially
accommodated by the tank. The Dragon's penetration
instruments revealed Triton's jagged peaks and
chasms through vaporous nitrogen clouds. Steady,
high-intensity beacons marked the location of
domed mine shafts that probed and sucked at the
satellite's core. A cluster of tank towns and their
outriders rode the satellite's horizon.
Gleaming slivers separated from the surface,
converged, assumed an egg-shape and bloomed into
a flight of spacecraft. They formed up abreast
fifty kilometers distant, facing the Dragon's bow.
The speaker above the communicator's enclosure
broke into the bridge's silence.
"Message from Captain Yargoul of the Jovian
Battle Cruiser Windstorm to Captain Crisper of
the Plutonian Battle Cruiser Dragon."
Captain Crisper spoke without moving or taking
his eyes from the tank.
"The message."
"Greetings, Captain Crisper. I have been authorized
by my President and the INOR representatives
I am escorting to inform you that we are here in
response to the invitation of your President. Is
the representative of your Government present?"
The Captain glanced at Brad, who nodded. The
response was released.
"Greetings from Captain Crisper to Captain Yargoul.
My government's representative, Commander Brad
Curtin, is present and prepared to meet with you
and your colleagues. Commander Curtin suggests
the meeting take place in the Command Conference
Room on board the Dragon as soon as the primary
members are aboard. Is that agreeable?"
A short pause, then the reply "Affirmative."
Shortly, utility boats cut away from the ships and
converged on the Dragon. Each utility maneuvered
to synchronize axis and align portals. Precisely
positioned, each vessel locked on in turn and
extended ship-to-ship catwalks.
##
The Dragon's conference room hummed with the
murmur of the Dragon's seated guests when Brad
entered and took his seat at the table. Zolan occupied
a seat against the bulkhead behind Brad, adjacent
a glowing view tank.
Scarf was there somewhere along the side, known
and ignored; a security agent to peer over INOR
citizens' shoulders was normal.
Professionals long in their trade, they were battle
cruiser and destroyer flotilla commanders of the
major INOR powers, backed up by their experts
in military intelligence, tactical operations, and
navigation, logistics and internal security. Brad's
measure would be taken quickly, and his influence
and INOR's decisions would depend on their
assessments. He expected no less.
Brad's eyes ranged the table, giving each face
equal time. They returned his scrutiny, casual,
arrogant, challenging. It was his show, and his
reputation.
Brad did not rise to speak.
"I needn't introduce myself," he began. "We've
all done our homework I'm sure, and you know as
much about me as I do about each of you. So, to
business."
Zolan rose, drew an instrumented rod from its niche
at the base of the tank and brought up the quadrant
that depicted the Special Zone. Manipulating keys
along the rod, eyes on the tank, Zolan quickly
brought the Logistics Depot in toward the core
and increased magnification so that it occupied
most of the tank space.
"The objective," Brad said, his voice flat and low.
A long silence, then from the far end of the table,
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Just that. We're going to take it."
A gasp, this time from his left, followed by, "You
guys are out of your minds."
Feet shuffled on the grav-plates. Several among the
seated were arranging themselves to rise and depart.
Brad waited.
The shuffling stopped. They were here to listen,
not to commit.
Brad leaned forward, placed his forearms on the
table, one hand over the other. His steady eyes
moved from one face to the next.
"No," he said, "we're not out of our minds. We can
do it, and our losses can be kept within acceptable
limits if we work together. Furthermore, the Depot
can be taken with minimum damage to its structures
and to its Slingshot stores."
"What's the point?"
Brad looked at the questioner, a big man in a black
and gray uniform and a soft helmet liner perched
on the back of his head. Brad knew him through the
phys-psy profiles he had studied before the meeting.
##
"Captain Yargoul," Brad said, "sooner or later the
UIPS must accept that they no longer have mastery
of space beyond the Belt."
Altering his tone to include all, he continued, "I
needn't dwell on the obvious: our collective forces
and Slingshot's distance from the UIPS places
us in a far stronger position than we thought we
would be at this time. I emphasize collective. On
our own, any of us, individually as nations or in an
alliance of satellites, wouldn't stand long against
an organized assault by a UIPS battle fleet. But,
collectively, we will not only resist them, we will
win and take back full control of space throughout
the Outer Region."
Eyes cold, voice gritty as space-sand, Brad tapped
the tabletop.
"Having the power isn't enough. We've got to show
it, and make it credible. Planet Pluto demonstrated
what can be done with real power during Operation
Tornado Six. I'm sure you're all familiar with that
little exercise, and have studied the tactics."
Closed faces. The silence was broken with low but
audible, "So have their tac ops people."
"Right, and we think they've concluded that
INOR is in a strong position to run its territories
and voids without any more interference from
them. Also, that we can devise tactics and take
initiatives that put them off balance and upset
their Slingshot schedule. What we did in our
legally contiguous space can be repeated elsewhere.
The result is the end of UIPS dominance over its
former colonies and space lanes."
Brad paused to preface his next words.
"You can continue to accept invasive UIPS traffic
through your territorial and contiguous zones. You
can do the same for their uninvited presence in
your Exclusive Economic Zones even though the
Laws of the Seas Conventions over the past several
millennia expanded treaties to include or affirm
each independent nation's rights. Or you can align
with Planet Pluto, which is your right as a free
and independent nation. Together -- collectively --
we can demand that the UIPS acknowledge INOR's
jurisdiction in the Outer Region. INOR can back
their demands with military power that the UIPS
can no longer ignore."
There was a long silence, followed by, "What does
the Log Depot have to do with it?"
"First, it's the closest, most politically
vulnerable target within INOR's legitimate
boundaries and jurisdictions. Second, control
of the Depot equates to a strangle hold over
construction progress and launch of the Slingshot
terminals -- which is life-or-death for the UIPS."
"...and not for the rest of us?"
"Not for centuries. If it ever really came to sheer
survival, we'll outlast the UIPS. When they collapse
we can move in and feed off their carcasses for
a thousand years, if we have to. Meanwhile, we'll
take over Slingshot and have it ready for the next
launch window."
A hard-visaged warrior leaned forward in his
chair, and shook his head slowly. "You're a callous
son-of-a-bitch, Commander Curtin," he said,
directing his eyes directly at Brad.
"Maybe so. I'm also a realist. If we play the game
right, and show a united front, this confrontation
won't escalate to major military actions. The UIPS
has got to cross our space, there's no other way.
Take the depot and we can force them to finish
Slingshot, but with INOR playing a major role.
It'll take some negotiating, but it's not likely
that they'll shut down Slingshot."
"How will you take the Depot?"
"You mean, how will we take the Depot?
Unfortunately, we can't repeat Tornado Six. That
was a crisis we manufactured and ran all the way,
a one-shot operation. We've come up with another
strategy to take the Depot, and that's what this
meeting is about. You're all in on the action."
"This is the first I've heard the Depot is to be
taken," said Captain Yargoul, looking around.
"What about the rest of you? Have your
governments cleared this as a joint operation?"
Heads shook in the negative accompanied by
shrugs and grunts. Unanimous.