by Terry Mixon
Jared laughed. “Not a chance. If we’re being rushed, they’re in even worse shape. They’ll want to have every detail nailed down. Nervous?”
Talbot climbed in beside Jared and the car took off. “Not as much as I’d have thought. This really isn’t in the same league as someone trying to kill you. It’s only a wedding.”
Jared smiled knowingly. Oh, this was going to be good. It might even distract him from the butterflies in his own stomach.
* * * * *
Annette rubbed her eyes tiredly. She and Brandon Levy had been working over the data Carl Owlet had recovered from the freighter for what seemed like hours. A check of her chronometer told her that was accurate.
It also told her that they needed to wrap things up and get onto the cutters if they were going to make it to the wedding on time.
“We need to finish,” she said. “I think we’ve looked at every bit of scanner recording they had.”
“It wasn’t much,” the man grumbled. “Just the approach scanners. We don’t know anything about the orbital or its defenses. Much less the warships they might have guarding the place. If it was me, I’d have a base to go along with my secret facilities.”
She nodded. “Me, too. Judging by the number of ships we saw at Erorsi, I’m betting they brought a lot of that protective force to act as the attackers in our little drama. Did you get anything out of your prisoner?”
Levy shook his head. “Not really. She’s not buying what we’re selling, at least not yet. From what I’ve heard, it took Commander Richards a while to come around, and he had the benefit of being an amateur historian.
“Veronica Giguere isn’t one to think about the past, it seems. She’s one of those Fleet officers that lives and breathes her work.”
“Considering some of the stuff that Princess Kelsey found in the other destroyer commander’s cabin, that sounds like a point in Giguere’s favor. She’s not a social climber?”
“Not based on anything we’ve found. We broke into her safe, but she’d already destroyed the contents. Her bedroom is reassuringly normal, though.”
The first destroyer captain’s bedroom had looked like a bordello, based on some of the images that Annette had seen. Her office walls had any number of pictures showing the officer with civilian notables and she’d had more blackmail material than a dedicated criminal.
Based on what she’d heard from people knowledgeable about Harrison’s World, Annette was pretty sure that was the rule rather than the exception. Social climbing was a contact sport in the Rebel Empire.
“Has anyone on the freighter crew started talking?” she asked. “What was their plan?”
“Get into orbit and blast the lake where the crazy computer’s ship was. They had no way of knowing it was already done for.
“They didn’t expect to have any trouble, but they brought along enough Raider implants to show the goods, if required. All in all, they expected a walk in the park. The Fleet personnel were there to fire the weapon and keep the crew of the freighter in line.”
“Were they expecting trouble from their own civilians?”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t sound like it. More that they have some kind of institutional objection to allowing a weapon of that kind out of their control. Frankly, I sort of agree. A ship with that could kill millions in the blink of an eye.”
Levy stood slowly. “We should get dressed and board the cutter. The schedule is already tight.”
“Good idea. I’ll see you there in a few minutes.”
She jogged to her quarters and changed into her dress uniform. Zia had given Annette her old rank tabs, which meant a lot, so she was in good shape.
Thankfully, Fleet’s black and gold dress uniform made formal events easy. She was sure that Admiral Mertz wished he could just wear his.
Once she was ready, she headed for the landing bay. Brandon Levy was already aboard the cutter, and he had the correct rank tabs.
She had a moment to appreciate how the dress uniform flattered him. The other officer was sharp. It was too bad they were in the same command.
That thought gave her pause. Yes, it had been a while, but was that really where her mind had just gone?
Apparently so. Though, now that she considered it, the idea wasn’t a terrible one. For that matter, they weren’t technically in the same chain of command, either. They were co-equal commanders of the people on board Audacious. Neither one in charge of the other, and both reported to the commodore.
Something to ponder, she decided as she watched his eyes. Men thought they were subtle, but she could tell he was admiring the cut of her uniform, too.
“You look good,” she said with a smile. “You’re not trying to outshine the admiral, are you?”
“Not likely. Maybe Major Talbot. You look great, too.”
“Thank you.”
The two of them sat among the other senior officers going down for the wedding. Weddings, plural.
Many of her companions were talking about the event, wondering how grand the pomp and circumstance would be.
She’d already decided it would be a powerful affair, filled with symbolism and emotion. She’d cry, of course. She’d brought more than enough tissues.
Rather than focusing on the wedding, she immersed herself in plotting out their attack on Dresden with Brandon. No matter how they played it out, they’d need the carrier and its fighters to suppress any hostile response.
The fighters could slip in much closer than any of the other ships, except for the Persephone and her pinnaces. While the pinnaces were fine scouts, they didn’t have what it took to stand off warships.
Almost certainly, the Raider ship would get close and use her pinnaces to get a boarding party onto the orbital. That raiding party would secure the target while the fighters engaged any Rebel Empire ships that might take offense. That would allow the rest of the fleet to get in close.
With that much volatility to the planning, they needed to have primary plans, backups, contingencies, and emergency courses of action all mapped out. They needed to take all possible enemy responses into consideration.
The trip to Pentagar wasn’t nearly long enough to do more than outline the general shape of their needs. Once the wedding was over, maybe Brandon and she could find a suitable restaurant to have dinner and keep working.
She gave him an enigmatic smile. Oh, yes, that would be very nice indeed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brandon found a relatively empty corner of the Royal Cathedral and continued his review of the data they’d collected, and the rough plans they had for using the fighters and the carrier group. The one real engagement they’d fought had left him feeling as though they were headed for a big surprise—and not a pleasant one—if he didn’t get his part of the job under control.
The implants were becoming easier to use, though they still surprised him with the things they were capable of doing. For example, his implant computer was advanced enough to run basic simulations of the carrier’s performance when he changed a few parameters of how the ship entered the scenario.
That allowed him to propose certain procedural changes and see if they looked like they might generate better results. That in turn suggested changes to the training that he might implement.
“Are you going to hide here much longer?” a voice asked from the doorway. “You’ll miss the ceremony if you dawdle much longer.”
It was the freshly promoted Commander Jake Fiennes, the new commanding officer of Black Jack Squadron. Annette Vitter’s former deputy.
“How did you even find me?” Brandon asked as he shut down the simulation and stepped out.
“Implants are great things. Annette told me to make sure you didn’t wander off too far, so I had mine tell me where yours were.”
That had been sneaky. It suggested that he might be able to run a few shipboard drills and see if he could find better paths people might take during drills. Or even use them during hostile boardings.
; He firmly put the thought away. “There’s a wedding on. Why is she keeping track of me?”
The other man shrugged. “That’s just how she rolls. She’s always been great at keeping all the little details straight when things get complicated. Like in the middle of a dogfight. Attention to detail is a very good trait for a pilot or someone who commands them.”
Brandon considered that and nodded. “That makes a lot of sense.”
“And I think she might like you.”
“I hope so. We’re going to be working very closely for a while.”
The other man stopped and considered him for a long moment.
“What?” Brandon asked.
“I’m not sure if you’re joking or not. I mean I think she likes you.”
The less-than-subtle emphasis on ‘likes’ finally did it for him. “That’s quite a jump to make, don’t you think? It’s also something that regulations frown upon.”
“Do they? I thought you were co-commanders. Did I misunderstand?”
“We work on the same ship. It would be inappropriate. Even if it wasn’t, how could you possibly think that? I barely know the woman.”
The other man shook his head. “Being attracted to someone doesn’t require you hop right into bed, sir. Annette has had a rough year. After the crash where she lost her arm, she thought her life was over.
“Things are looking up now, but she’s a senior officer. Fraternization rules exist for good reason, so she’s been in a tight shell. It’s good to see her at least contemplating a relationship.”
The man gave Brandon a steady look. “I should mention that the pilots would be really unhappy if something happened to hurt her. We all worship her. In case no one ever told you, fighter pilots can be rash and more than a bit impulsive. I trust you see that could have serious repercussion.”
Brandon could only imagine what that might mean, but it didn’t sound good.
He shook his head. “I’m not going to hurt anyone. You’re talking a hypothetical situation. One that you probably misread. I appreciate you having the talk with me, but this isn’t what you think it is.”
“Copy that, sir. Well, the ceremony is about to get under way. You might want to find your seat. I’d imagine it’s going to be quite the spectacle.”
Brandon followed the other man into the main chapel. He’d spent a good bit of time examining its gorgeous construction and adornment earlier, but now his attention was inward.
Was Fiennes right? Surely not. He’d met Annette less than a week ago, and under less than pleasant circumstances. He’d righted his course, but he’d no doubt made a less than positive impression on her.
He knew what the other man was talking about, though. The loneliness of command was something all senior officers dealt with. Any less-than-professional encounters with the fairer sex happened on leave.
Annette would have been one pilot among many aboard the destroyer Athena. There’d been plenty of people not in her chain of command to see, if that’s what she’d wanted.
He imagined her injury kept her emotionally isolated, and then they’d promoted her to command of the fighters. As a commander, her rank would’ve kept everyone else at arm’s length, even though she wasn’t technically in charge of the ship’s personnel.
According to the regulations, an officer could fraternize—and by that, they meant have a romantic relationship—with people not in his own chain of command that were within two grades of him.
For himself, that meant fighter pilots at the rank of lieutenant commander and above. For her, ship’s personnel with similar rank. Definitely not a large pool.
The fighter corps were predominantly male. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps temperament.
For Annette’s part, she had a somewhat larger pool, since Fleet as a whole was fairly well balanced when it came to the sexes. Maybe a dozen officers of the appropriate rank.
Why was he even thinking about this? Her sex life was none of his damned business. Jake Fiennes was wrong. Even if he wasn’t, now was not the time to be thinking about it. He had a wedding to attend.
He was looking for a seat when he saw Annette wave. She had one next to her open. Considering the crowd, that wasn’t happenstance.
Brandon sat beside her. “Thanks for sending Fiennes after me. I lost track of time.”
She smiled. “You tend to be a little focused, so I figured it was better to be safe.”
The train of thought the other man had started in Brandon’s mind had him examining Annette in a new light. He’d known she was pretty, but now he was seeing her as if for the first time. It was a bit disconcerting, how attractive he found her.
It was a good thing there really wasn’t anything to worry about.
* * * * *
Kelsey paced the dressing room they’d put her in at the back of the Royal Cathedral. By some miracle, her wedding dress had arrived on time, and it fit perfectly. It was just as gorgeous as she’d hoped it would be.
The wedding cake was running late and God only knew what other problems were cropping up. Things she needed to deal with, but had no idea were going on because the Royal majordomo wouldn’t tell her anything. The woman seemed to believe that not knowing made things easier for Kelsey.
“You need to take a deep breath and stop wearing a path in the carpet,” Elise advised her.
Kelsey came to a stop and took several deep breaths. It felt as though she was hyperventilating. “How can you be so calm?”
The crown princess of Pentagar smiled and held out a flute of champagne. “Be careful sipping that. No spills.”
The champagne was cold and delicious. Kelsey resisted the urge to gulp it.
“I’m not worried because we have the most capable people imaginable nailing down all the details. They don’t need you trying to ‘fix’ things. You’ll only make their jobs harder.
“Tell me, in a fight, do you run around and make sure everyone else is shooting what you want? If you are, you really need to stop. Micromanagement is an obstacle to be overcome rather than a method to command. Do you really think our extremely capable majordomo is going to drop the ball?”
Kelsey sagged a little. “Not really. I just feel helpless. I need to get my hands on the controls.”
“No, you want to get your hands on the controls. That doesn’t mean you’d be a better driver, only that the car was more likely to crash when the two of you struggle over the direction. Sit down and let them do their magic.”
That wasn’t easy, but Kelsey managed to sit. “Are we making a mistake rushing this? We could’ve waited until after we got back from this mission.”
“That presupposes that you all come back,” Elise said grimly. “You’ll remember where Talbot inherited his title.”
Kelsey couldn’t help but to remember Timothy Reese’s death. He’d been talking on the radio when one of the AI-controlled machines had obliterated him with a plasma rifle. There hadn’t even been a body to bury. One moment he was in command of the attack, the next he was only a memory.
As capable as she was, that could all too easily happen to her. Yes, her armor was a lot tougher than what Reese had been wearing, but nothing was invulnerable. Either she or Talbot could die, even if they did everything right. The same went for Jared.
“That’s not exactly the cheerful pre-wedding pep talk I was expecting,” Kelsey groused. “But you do have a point. Yes, we shouldn’t wait, but I don’t want to screw everything up by springing the ambush too soon, since we’re going with military metaphors.”
Elise laughed. “Don’t worry over every little thing. Focus on what you need to do and let our team handle everything else. Even if something goes a little differently than planned, no one in the audience will notice. They’ll be watching the four of us. As long as we don’t throw up on the minister, we’ll be fine.”
Kelsey smiled a little at that. “I think I’ll manage to avoid that. I just hate waiting.”
The door opened and the majordomo appeared. “Highnesses,
we are ready to proceed to the chapel. Princess Elise will go first with you waiting for my signal to proceed, Princess Kelsey.”
“I feel badly about bumping you from the primary spot in your wedding,” Elise said.
Kelsey waved the concern away. “This is your world. It’s only right for you to be the focus. Besides, we’ll reverse things when we get back to Avalon.”
“We’re having two weddings?”
She nodded. “While this one is legally binding, it’s not fair to deny my people the chance to celebrate this with me. It also wouldn’t be fair to Jared’s mother. A second one wouldn’t hurt for you, either.”
“Highnesses,” the majordomo prompted.
The ladies-in-waiting that the other woman had found for them gathered around, but there was a disturbance at the lift down the hall. A number of familiar female faces were putting in a belated appearance.
“Thank God,” Kelsey said. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”
“Sorry we’re late,” Lily Stone said. “Getting the dresses at the last moment was a little harder than we’d expected.”
“She means me getting the dress in my size was the problem,” Major Angela Ellis said. “We should’ve stuck to dress uniforms.”
The marine officer was over two meters tall, and endowed to the same heroic scale. Kelsey imagined fitting the woman had been a nightmare. At least Kelsey could start with a child’s gown.
Zia Anderson shook her head. “You should’ve seen the seamstress running around in a panic. I almost had to slap her to get her to come out of it.”
Elise laughed. “Wouldn’t that have been a sight?”
Kelsey pulled them all into a hug. “I’m so glad to see you. Now, we have to go. We’re already late.”
“I beg to differ,” Elise said. “A bride is never late to the wedding. She’s always precisely on time.”
“We’ll see if the grooms think so.”
It took another minute to get the party back into order, and then they took the corridor beside the lift. It would deliver them to the rear of the cathedral without any of the guests seeing them.