"Alright, we're ready," I said, looking over my fleet status lights. Behind me, trailing in a long silver cloud was the fleet. And truly, it was a fleet, two and a half years had passed since the attacks that had given me notice of the Korath, almost three since finding the Hai, and now I had command of what was probably the largest force in the galaxy under a single command. Each ship was a capital, a Shield Beetle to be precise, with a single pilot and androids running off an iteration of STAR doing everything but the driving.
"All fleet assets stand ready, Admiral," said STAR's voice as we launched. Behind us was the Deep world of Valhalla. The skies ahead parted in our wake as we took to the Endless Sky once again. Every ship, more than three hundred now, was loaded with a mixture of tech from all over the galaxy. Jump drives for travel, atomic engines, including reverse thrusters, for real space movement, System Cores for shields, control, and hull repairs, while heat shunts made us nearly heatless.
"Weapons check," I ordered, and got a staccato of clicks over the comms as each vessel blasted out with the Sunbeams, six on each ship, a stunning stream of yellow lights passing into the heavens. With Wanderer reactors and ramscoops helping to power and fuel, my fleet was ready for almost anything the galaxy could throw at us. Heck, already five pirate worlds had fallen to us, their leaders sending tribute to me. Only a few hundred a day, really, but still, it kept them in line for the moment.
"All checks complete, we are combat ready, Admiral. Where should we head?" asked my AI companion, and I had to consider that for a moment, bringing up a holographic display of the galaxy in the air before me.
A year ago, when I'd left Wanderer space, I'd wanted to go straight to the source, to demand answers, but I found nothing on New Boston. Not a single shred of the Old Men were left anywhere in the system, and they didn't try to flee either, as my then fleet of one hundred and seven escorts had stayed in orbit to ensure that. With that avenue dried up, we'd begun making our way around the galaxy, searching for any sign of our foes. That had led to a few jobs, including traveling with They Might Be Riots, a band, and helping the world Rand with its terraforming troubles.
Oddly, no matter where I went, the story was the same. The Old Men, a group who had command of fleets, and had somehow had regular access to jump drives, were just gone. Worse, the situation in human space was hanging by a thread. War was threatened by both the Republic and the 'Free Worlds' yet neither side was willing to make the first move. It didn't take a genius, luckily for me, to figure out there was something up with that. Three years since the Free Worlds withdrew to an almost simultaneous terrorist attack on two of the most valuable assets in the Republic, and yet, nothing.
That last bit was disturbing. Images were on the news almost daily of the fleets of both sides just kind of staring at each other across space. Nothing beyond that though. Everyone seemed to be aware that something, anything, should have happened by now, and the silence was nearly deafening. Worst of all, the Syndicate, the massive corporation that produced many of the goods, seemed to be selling to both sides, at inflated rates, which kept all the goods times flowing for them.
Staring at that map, I knew somewhere there was an answer. The Old Men couldn't hide forever, and now I had a force to be reckoned with. Using my finger, I plotted a course through some of the less populated systems, where they wouldn't be able to house half the fleet I had. I figured it was the best way to shake something loose, and better yet, would provide some shake downs for my new captains and the command structure I had installed, with me at the top, Bandit and Joe below, and various Wing Commanders in charge otherwise. Who knew? Maybe my answer would be waiting in one of these ports?