[Strategia_In_Ultima]

-----EPILOGUE-----

Grand Admiral Ghettex hurried down the corridor. He was late for a Central Command meeting. As he ran past a courier-bot and nearly knocked it down, thoughts flashed through his mind.

“Will they kick me out for being so bloody late?”
“Is this an important meeting? I hope not.....”
“Has this got anything to do with that fleet of Edinburghs?”
“Dinner at the Xiati Restaurant or at the Jraenar Take-Away?”

The door proximity sensors detected him barely in time. He just slipped through the opening door. It was a good thing, too: he ran pretty fast, and a collision between a running man and five n-clicks of solid compressed neutronium usually ended up badly for the running man.

“Sorry I’m late. Was a delay at the docking port, navcomp of a yacht went haywire and we needed to give it wide berth.”
“Jurihaan, how nice of you to join us. We were about to start without you.”

Ghettex went to his seat, still panting slightly. Damn. He shouldn’t have run all the way from the docking port. His one hundred and seventeen-year-old body couldn’t cope with it.

The Chairman opened the meeting.

“Now, if we would leave the formalities for what they are, let’s get down to business. We’ve got three things to handle here.”
“Three? I thought this was going to be about the Edinburgh fleet?” another Grand Admiral inquired.
“Yes, this will be about the Edinburghs. All three agenda points are related to them. First, the ships themselves. They carry the entire population of Hemrai. Where are we going to leave four point five billion people?”
“Perhaps we could send them to the frontier colonies in the Targah sector.”
“No, they’d be overflowing, and our flank’s too vulnerable there. If an enemy fleet manages to push through, we’d lose an unacceptable amount of civilians. We’d have riots breaking out all over the Commonwealth.”
“Hasn’t Raktel just been bombed?”
“There’s only room for five hundred million people there. We’d still be stuck with the remaining four billion.”
“Build habitat stations throughout this system?”
“Too slow. We can’t have them live on cramped transports for months.”
“Spread them out over all available transports and cargo stations until the first habitat stations are complete.”
“OK. Everybody agree?”

Nods and “Yes”es all around. The Chairman pushed a few buttons on his console.

“Now. Next agenda point. The attack on Devonshire.”

Everybody was shocked. Three people rose from their chairs.

“There was an attack on Devonshire?”
“We lost a small warship and the command station.”
“What?!?”
“We lost the NKCNS Fortitude and C-Alpha 5 Devonshire.”
“Who’s responsible? I demand we declare war on them immediately!!!”
“We don’t know.”
“WHAT?!!”
“What we know is that the attack was carried out by a modified Kent combat lander.”

Everybody rose from their seats now. A Commonwealth ship? One that always traveled in convoys, no less?

“The ship was equipped with Tarmalean pulse cannon turrets.....”
“Then declare war on them!”
“.....and an entire battery of torpedo launchers.”
“Torpedo launchers?!”
“Torpedo launchers.”
“But the Tarmaleans never even use torpedoes! The last Tarmalean torpedo was fired three hundred years ago!”
“On top of that, the magazines carried both long-rangers and capship killers as well as standard torps.”
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t there any one single nation that has long-rangers and capship killers? This must’ve been a concerted effort by insiders and at least two other parties!”
“Or it could have been the work of pirates who raided a shipyard, took the Kent designs and built one fitted with technology they’d acquired from other raids.”
“That’s preposterous! We would have known if they’d taken any designs!”
“You’ve forgotten about Greythorn?”

The man who said this slumped.

“Greythorn. Yes. Of course.”
“Now, this means that we have to put all ships on high alert. If they spot any unidentified Commonwealth vessel, and it doesn’t reply to a set number of hails, they must shoot on sight.”
“And how about evac transports who’ve lost all means of communicating?”
“They’d be ordered to cut engines and wait until a boarding team arrives.”
“Good point.”
“Now. Third agenda point. The Star Asteroid.”

Everybody in the small, round, plasma-cannon-proof room looked astounded.

“Is..... is there something wrong with it?”
“Definitely.”
“Uh oh.”
“It’s gone.”
“What?!?”
“Did you really think eighteen wounded evac transports could’ve stood up to a heavily-armed warship?”
“Sir?”
“The transports were surprised by a comet storm in the Gharna system. Mericum riddled comets. Knocked out long-distance comms antenna and defense weaponry.”
“But what has the Star Asteroid to do with that?”
“The Kent warship, the evac convoy and the Asteroid all were in Devonshire at the same time.”
“But the Asteroid’s unarmed! How did it stop..... oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
“What?”
“Tamarillho ditched her crew and went kamikaze.”
“Oh no.”
“We are going to build a new one, no?”
“Yes, Hartag’s already working on it.”
“Then what’s it doing on a Central Command agenda?”
“Tamarillho did save the entire population of the fourth most important planet in the Commonwealth, and she stopped a warship which could’ve otherwise caused the deaths of millions, perhaps even billions.”
“So?”
“I’m going to give her an honorary promotion to Captain First Class, if Central Command agrees.”
“Just that? She did save an astonishing number of people.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Captain First Class and a post-humous Medal of Extraordinary Valor.”
“And a Medal for Services Rendered!”
“Agreed. Does Central Command have any objections to this?”
“No.”
“That’s settled then. Good day gentlemen.”

-----END OF EPILOGUE-----