A Call to Insurrection
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
BOOK ONE CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
BOOK TWO CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EPILOGUE
A CALL TO
INSURRECTION
BOOK IV OF
Manticore Ascendant
DAVID WEBER &
TIMOTHY ZAHN
with
THOMAS POPE
A Novel of the Honorverse
A Call to Insurrection
David Weber, Timothy Zahn, and Thomas Pope
Book four in the nationally best-selling Manticore Ascendant series, set in the world of David Weber’s multiple New York Times best-selling Honorverse series.
Yesterday, the Star Kingdom of Manticore was a small, unimportant interstellar backwater. A quiet little star nation, only recently recovered from the devastating blow of the Plague Years. More affluent than some, perhaps, but with little to attract trade or interstellar commerce, it had little need for a navy . . . and even less interest in paying for one.
But Manticore has now become a target. The Star Kingdom isn't certain who is attacking it, or why, or what its mysterious foe can possibly want, but Queen Elizabeth I knows she has to find out. And she knows that whatever some of her subjects think, Manticore does need a navy. And it needs allies, friends like the dynamic Republic of Haven and the Andermani Empire. It needs their trade . . . and to learn from their more experienced and powerful navies.
It is the job of officers like Travis Long and his wife, Lisa, to acquire that experience. Of utterly inexperienced diplomats like Travis's brother Gavin, Earl Winterfall, to build those alliances.
They have been sent to the powerful Andermani Empire to do just that, for the Imperial Navy is one of the most potent and experienced fleets in the galaxy. But the Andermani have problems of their own. Their Emperor's death is the trigger for insurrection, and now that powerful and experienced navy is locked in civil war.
The Manticoran visitors find themselves squarely in the path of the storm, and before Travis, Lisa, and Gavin can accomplish anything else, they first have to survive.
The MANTICORE ASCENDANT Series
A Call to Duty by David Weber & Timothy Zahn
A Call to Arms by David Weber & Timothy Zahn with Thomas Pope
A Call to Vengeance by David Weber & Timothy Zahn with Thomas Pope
A Call to Insurrection by David Weber & Timothy Zahn with Thomas Pope
Also in the HONORVERSE by DAVID WEBER
HONOR HARRINGTON
On Basilisk Station • The Honor of the Queen
The Short Victorious War • Field of Dishonor • Flag in Exile
Honor Among Enemies • In Enemy Hands • Echoes of Honor
Ashes of Victory • War of Honor • Crown of Slaves (with Eric Flint)
The Shadow of Saganami • At All Costs • Storm from the Shadows
Torch of Freedom (with Eric Flint) • Mission of Honor • A Rising Thunder
Shadow of Freedom • Cauldron of Ghosts (with Eric Flint)
Shadow of Victory • Uncompromising Honor • To End in Fire (with Eric Flint)
EDITED BY DAVID WEBER:
More than Honor • Worlds of Honor • Changer of Worlds
The Service of the Sword • In Fire Forged • Beginnings
THE STAR KINGDOM
A Beautiful Friendship • Fire Season (with Jane Lindskold)
Treecat Wars (with Jane Lindskold)
House of Steel: The Honorverse Companion (with BuNine)
BAEN BOOKS by TIMOTHY ZAHN
Battle Luna (with Travis S. Taylor, Michael Z. Williamson, Kacey Ezell & Josh Hayes)
Blackcollar: The Judas Solution
Blackcollar (contains The Blackcollar and Blackcollar: The Backlash Mission)
The Cobra Trilogy (contains: Cobra, Cobra Strike, and Cobra Bargain)
COBRA WAR
Cobra Alliance • Cobra Guardian • Cobra Gamble
COBRA REBELLION
Cobra Slave • Cobra Outlaw • Cobra Traitor
A Call to Insurrection: Book IV of Manticore Ascendant
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2022 by Words of Weber, Inc., Timothy Zahn, and Thomas Pope
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
A Baen Books Original
Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, NY 10471
www.baen.com
ISBN: 978-1-9821-2589-9
eISBN: 978-1-62579-852-7
Cover art by Dave Seeley
First printing, February 2022
Distributed by Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Weber, David, 1952– author. | Zahn, Timothy, author. | Pope, Thomas, 1972– author.
Title: A call to insurrection : a novel of the Honorverse / David Weber & Timothy Zahn with Thomas Pope.
Description: Riverdale, NY : Baen, 2022. | Series: Manticore ascendant ; book 4
Identifiers: LCCN 2021050936 | ISBN 9781982125899 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781625798527 (ebook)
Subjects: LCGFT: Science fiction. | Novels.
Classification: LCC PS3573.E217 C355 2022 | DDC 813/.54—dc23/eng/20211015
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021050936
Pages by Joy Freeman (www.pagesbyjoy.com)
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Electronic Version by Baen Books
www.baen.com
PROLOGUE
1542 PD
Hereditary President Trudy McIntyre had never been what Lucretia Tomlinson would have called a handsome woman. But there were pictures from two decades earlier that had captured a smoldering fire, a defiance, and a sense of righteousness that had more than made up for the lack of physical beauty.
Now, sixteen T-years since McIntyre’s world and people had been ruthlessly torn away from her, much of that fire had faded.
Much, but not all. And if the fire hadn’t aged well, the moral righteousness certainly had.
“…I know you must be getting tired of hearing from me,” the image on the display said, “as I’m sure your father did before you, as well as all the other directors that have graced the PFT boardroom. But it’s important to me—and to many others—that the crimes of Gustav Anderman aren’t forgotten. For sixteen T-years the people of the Tomlinson System have been crushed under his heel, denied their God-given rights to liberty and free expression.
“I know that after all this time our small and distant problems probably don’t even register on PFT’s agenda. That’s why I’ve sent this message directly to you, Director
Tomlinson. To remind you of what was once yours, and to plead with you to do whatever you can to make right what Gustav Anderman once made wrong.
“I hope to hear from you at your earliest opportunity. I hope even more that you’ll do whatever you can to persuade the Solarian League to take action on behalf of your people, your colonists, and your world.
“Thank you for your attention and consideration. I know that if we work together we can return the Tomlinson System to the freedom and shining glory that your grandfather first envisioned for us.
“With respect, Hereditary President-in-Exile Trudy McIntyre.”
The final image froze, a final mute plea in those aging but still fiery eyes.
With a sigh, Tomlinson blanked the screen. She’d been Chief Director of the Board for the transstellar corporation Preston, Fagnelli, and Tomlinson for the past four years. In that time she’d received no fewer than six other messages from McIntyre, all of them pleading with her to take some kind of action against Anderman and his so-called Andermani Empire.
The hell of it was that Tomlinson had tried. She’d sent a dozen formal protests of her own to the Solarian League, both to official agencies and to Anderman’s former employers and fellow mercenary chiefs. She’d sent notes to some of the other transstellar corporations, suggesting the possibility of bringing sanctions or other economic levers to bear on the Andermani. She’d even sent messages to Gustav Anderman himself, appealing to his better nature or at least to his current reputation and his future legacy.
The League bureaucrats unanimously declared the situation Not Their Problem. None of Anderman’s old friends—or enemies—were interested in stepping up to the challenge, at least not for the funding PFT’s Board was willing to offer. The transstellars were likewise uninterested in rocking any boats.
Many of the latter group, in fact, hinted broadly that PFT’s concerns were well beneath their interest level, as was PFT itself.
As for Gustav, the old man had started speaking exclusively German nine years ago. That said a lot right there about his perception of either reputation or legacy. Or, for that matter, reality.
Part of the problem was the distance. The Tomlinson System was a long way from the League, and despite the old saying, absence usually made the heart simply wander off. Probably one reason the rest of the transstellars had never taken PFT seriously, as well. Owning an entire star system—Preston—sitting on the edge of the Core worlds carried a certain amount of prestige, but the fact that their only other system had been at the back edge of nowhere hadn’t added a lot to that status. And of course, since Anderman moved in PFT didn’t even have that much.
The painful bottom line was that if McIntyre’s situation barely registered in the upper levels of PFT, it didn’t register at all anywhere else.
Added to that was the fact that the situation was anything but clear-cut. Anderman had indeed conquered the Tomlinson System, but the records suggested that McIntyre had launched the first attack of that brief war.
Technically, of course, McIntyre had actually launched her attack against the Nimbalkar System, with which Tomlinson had had long-standing tensions and which had only recently been annexed by Anderman.
McIntyre claimed that the attack was merely a response to Nimbalkar’s previous aggressions and, furthermore, that her commanders had believed the ship they attacked was a local warship running a false Andermani ID. None of that had mattered to Gustav, of course, who’d used it as an excuse to attack and subjugate the offending system.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t mattered to anyone else, either. League officials were reluctant to get involved with something so muddled, and the few who might have been sympathetic to McIntyre’s plight knew far better than to cross someone with Anderman’s expertise and firepower.
Tomlinson’s grandfather had been the one who pushed for and ultimately set up the Tomlinson colony seventy years ago. It was his legacy, or it was supposed to have been. Gustav Anderman had taken that from him.
And his granddaughter Lucretia would be damned if she was going to let him get away with it.
In which case, she thought bitterly as she pulled up the report she’d been reading when McIntyre’s message was delivered, she was indeed going to be damned. Right now she was Chief Director of PFT, with all the authority and power that entailed; but that stint would only last another eight T-years before it rotated to the heads of one of the other two families. At that point, under the corporation’s rotation rules, it would be a full twenty-four years before it came back to her. Or to her successor, if she didn’t live that long.
The bottom line was that if she didn’t succeed in freeing her grandfather’s colony from its oppressors this time around, she would probably never get another chance.
Gustav would win. And he wouldn’t just win against the authority and against the property of PFT. He would also get away with building an empire by sheer force of arms.
And those were not lessons humanity needed to be learning right now.
Her intercom pinged. “Director, your eleven o’clock is here,” her secretary’s voice came over the speaker.
Tomlinson frowned, pulling up her schedule. She didn’t have an eleven o’clock appointment.
Or at least she hadn’t when she checked four hours ago upon arriving in her office. Now, somehow, that slot had been magically filled. Filled, moreover, by a name she didn’t recognize.
Freya Bryce.
“One moment, Zaimal,” Tomlinson said, punching the name into her computer. Everybody who was anybody was in PFT’s files, along with most people who weren’t anyone at all.
The list came up: twenty-seven Freya Bryces were on the planet at the moment. They were ordered by prominence, and Tomlinson ran her eye quickly over them. The first four were definitely people of some moderate power and influence, and she wondered briefly which of them could have figured out how to bypass the normal roadblocks and come calling on PFT’s chief director on the spur the moment. Running a quick eye over the four photos so she’d recognize her visitor, she again tapped the intercom. “Send her in.”
“Yes, Director.”
A moment’s pause, and then the door across the office swung open and a young woman walked in. Youngish, anyway, probably late thirties or early forties, Tomlinson estimated. She was slender, in an athletic muscular way, with short black hair and wearing the kind of business suit that definitely put her in the upper one percent of society.
And she wasn’t any of the top four Freya Bryces on the list.
Tomlinson stifled a curse. That’s what she got for not looking deeper before she let the unexpected visitor in. Despite the carefully engineered roadblocks, average citizens with a charity to plead or an axe to grind still sometimes managed to find their way into even the very pinnacles of power.
Still, there was that suit. She might as well hear the woman out. “Good day, Ms. Bryce,” Tomlinson said courteously, waving her to the chair at the front corner of the desk. “Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you,” Bryce said as she walked toward the indicated chair. Her stride was measured and confident, her voice polite and well-modulated. But Tomlinson could hear a hint of dark steel beneath the courtesy. “My apologies for breaking in on you this way,” the visitor continued as she lowered herself gracefully into the chair. “But time is short, and your official waiting list is tiresomely long.”
“Then we’d best get to it,” Tomlinson said. “What exactly are we discussing this morning?”
“The topic foremost in your mind at the moment,” Bryce said. “Your namesake colony world of Tomlinson.”
Tomlinson drew back a little in her chair, the odd feeling in her back turning decidedly eerie. How could this woman possibly have known that she’d just screened McIntyre’s message? “Tomlinson?” she asked carefully.
“As in the message you just received from former President McIntyre.” Bryce smiled slightly. “And no, I’m not psychic. I know you received McIntyre’s message
because I arrived on the same ship that brought it to you.”
“Interesting coincidence.”
“Not really,” Bryce said. “I was speaking with her about her problems before I—and the message—boarded the ship.”
“You’re a friend, then?” Tomlinson probed.
“A friend to Tomlinson, perhaps,” Bryce said. “Not so much to McIntyre herself. I talked with her; now I’m here to talk with you.”
“About Tomlinson?”
“Yes,” Bryce said. “And how we—or rather you—are going to get it back.” She raised her eyebrows invitingly. “That is what you want, is it not?”
There were a half dozen ways of summoning security to her office. Tomlinson was sorely tempted to use one of them. She’d been over this ground again and again without finding any foothold. Anyone who claimed it was possible was naïve, delusional, or a flat-out con artist.
But there was that suit. If this was a con, at least the woman knew how to play the game. It would probably be worth another couple of minutes of her time just for the entertainment factor.
“What I want isn’t the question,” she said. “I’ve put a lot of thought and effort into it. So have a lot of other people. Every avenue has been a dead end.”