Against the Tide tcw-3

by John Ringo

  “What about the orcas?” the lieutenant asked.

  “You’ll have to run that one by me again,” Edmund said. “I’ll admit I’m a bit tired. Why can’t you attack the orcas?”

  “Our orders are to avoid contact. We’re supposed to be recon forces is what they keep saying. But we can’t always avoid contact and Jason thinks we can get rid of some of the damned orca and ixchitl, if we can just get the support.”

  “That’s it?” Edmund asked. “What kind of support?”

  “Nothing more than we’re getting, really,” the mer admitted. “Some more weapons, maybe some support ships. But we’ll probably take more casualties.”

  Edmund considered it for a moment and then nodded. “Tell Jason he has my permission to implement a plan to begin reducing the orca and ixchitl. But if he’s taking high levels of casualties, that is if he’s losing more than he’s killing, he’s to desist. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir,” Asfaw replied.

  “Don’t thank me, son,” Edmund sighed. “You’re just putting yourself in the way of more trouble.”

  * * *

  “Trouble, sir.” Chief Brooks sighed, collapsing in the chair across from Herzer.

  Herzer looked out the window where one of the petty officers was conducting a class on knots.

  “No riots,” Herzer chuckled. “Even over the food.”

  “No, not so far, sir,” Brooks replied. “It’s a sexual harassment complaint.”

  “Bloody hell.” Herzer sighed, leaning back. “Who?”

  “Seaman, seawoman not to point too fine of a point on it, Regilio and Petty Officer Lenice.”

  “Tell,” Herzer replied, rubbing his eyes.

  “He was counseling her on her attitude, which is, frankly, crappy. She accused him of soliciting sex.”

  “Did he follow the two man rule?” Herzer asked, not looking up.

  “No, sir, he didn’t,” Brooks replied. “He said that he wanted to bring it up without a witness so she would have less of a tendency to back talk. Because then he’d have to get strictly official.”

  “Send him back to the fleet,” Herzer said, dropping his hands and picking up a piece of paperwork.

  “He’s one of the best instructors we have, sir,” Brooks argued.

  “Not if he makes that simple an error,” Herzer said, looking up angrily and tossing the note back down on his desk. “I agree with his reasoning. But he can not put himself in that sort of a position with half-trained recruits. Recruits that don’t realize how serious the accusation is. Or how the accusation is going to haunt them for quite some time. How many people are automatically going to question… what was her name?”

  “Regilio, sir.”

  “Pamela,” Herzer replied, nodding with that reminder. “In the intel tech program. Good math scores. Red hair. Yes, bit of an attitude. Just about the last person up The Mast every morning.”

  “That would be her,” Brooks sighed.

  “People are going to know about it, people are going to talk,” Herzer said. “Lenice has been with the Fleet for a couple of years. Spotless record. No previous indication of tendency to use his rank for sex. So she’s automatically going to be viewed with suspicion. Even if he did, in fact, proposition her or try to force her to have sex. Which was why, Chief Brooks, he is going back to the fleet. Today. With a notation in his record that he is unsuitable for training cadre. And you’d better thoroughly brief his replacement. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Clear, sir,” Brooks said, standing up. “Will that be all?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Herzer replied, picking up the paperwork again. “I’d rather it was riots. Oh, and pass this around. Don’t let anyone think this is an easy way back to the fleet. The next time this comes up, I’m coming down like the hammer of hell. All the bells and whistles. They do not want to make this mistake again. We don’t have the bodies to spare.”

  * * *

  “Good afternoon, Skipper Karcher,” Edmund said, waving at a chair. “Have a seat.”

  “Good afternoon, sir,” Karcher replied, sitting down carefully. She had already had a look around the tent and was clearly surprised by its Spartan nature.

  “Given that the headquarters was burned to the ground, I thought that we could use temporary accommodations,” Edmund said, noting the glances.

  “Yes, sir,” Karcher replied. She had her captain’s hat in her lap and was working the brow with the thumbs of both hands.

  “How’s your ship?” Edmund asked, smiling.

  “Fine, sir,” Karcher said. “In all conditions ready for sea.”

  “This isn’t an inquisition, Karcher.” Talbot chuckled. “I heard about your recommended change for the Silverdrake landings. It’s being implemented throughout the fleet.”

  “One of my seamen came up with it, sir,” Karcher said. “Seaman Fink.”

  “Good man?” Edmund asked.

  “Woman, sir, and yes, she’s pretty good. She’s applied for dragon-rider training.”

  Edmund pulled a sheet of paper over to him and scribbled on it.

  “Approved,” Edmund said. “As long as you do.” He handed the sheet across to her. “What’s your XO like?”

  “Good man, sir,” Karcher replied. “Better than me at celestial navigation. Getting there at general boat handling skills. I mean, he’s a good sailor, sir.”

  “Could he take over the Black?”

  Karcher paused at that and frowned. “Am I being relieved, sir?”

  “I asked the first question,” Edmund replied.

  “Yes, sir, he could.” Karcher sighed.

  “Good,” Edmund said, handing her another sheet of paper. “You’ve just been appointed command of the Hazhir. The XO knows the ship but Shar doesn’t feel he’s up to commanding it, yet. I’ve looked at your record and I think you can.”

  “Yes, sir,” Karcher replied, taking the paper as if it were incendiary. She slid it under her hat and continued working the brim, a bit harder.

  “Just that, ‘yes, sir’?” Edmund asked, smiling.

  “Thank you, sir?” Karcher said.

  “You think you can handle it?” Edmund asked.

  “No, sir,” Karcher said, honestly. “But I can give it my best shot. And I would guess that you’ve thought it over. I’d have expected that you’d transfer someone from one of the frigates or cruisers and that I’d get that, instead. But if you are willing to take the risk, I’ll do my damnedest.”

  “Karcher, you’ve got more time at sea than half the frigate commanders.” Edmund sighed. “And, yeah, I gave it some thought. And some second thoughts. You know what clinched it?”

  Karcher thought about that for a second and then shrugged.

  “My saying that Fink had come up with the landing program?”

  “Bingo,” Edmund replied. “That and your crew is loyal as hell. You can sail and you can lead. That’s a hard combination to find in this Navy. And you’re not afraid to say: ‘I don’t know, sir.’ That takes guts. Now we just have to find out if you can fight. Don’t prove me wrong.”

  “No, sir,” Karcher replied. “I was just wondering…”

  “I know your background,” Edmund said. “In fact, I probably know more about it than you do. Despite the fact that Changed are facing some very ancient prejudice, I don’t have it. Changed are humans just like those of us who look normal. I’ll except from that category the New Destiny Changed which have been programmed to be inhuman. You’re a good CO, you’re a good sailor and I have damned few people that fit both categories. I don’t care, quite frankly, if you eat live mice. That might have mattered under Draskovich, it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “I don’t, sir,” Karcher said, then took a chance. “Well, hardly ever.”

  “And I don’t fling shit,” Edmund said with a grin. “Well, hardly ever.”

  “Yes, sir,” Karcher said with a catlike smile.

  “That’s it,” Talbot said. “Good luck.”

 
; “Thank you, sir,” Karcher said, standing up and putting on her hat. “I’ll try to make my own.”

  * * *

  “Hello, your Dukeship,” Herzer said, striding into the lamp-lit tent.

  “Herzer, you’re really losing your military bearing with me, aren’t you?” Edmund chuckled.

  “I bring orders from your wife, via your daughter who you haven’t even said hello to, yet,” Herzer replied, walking over and pulling a sheet of paper out of the admiral’s hand. “We are ordered to repair to the O-Club. Where you, Van Krief and I, at a minimum, will occupy one corner and get shit faced. Rachel’s precisely transmitted words. ‘You are hereby ordered, by mother, to get him, and I quote, shit faced.’ It’s a rest day tomorrow and that gives us at least a few hours to get over the hangover. So stand up, our real masters call.”

  Edmund shook his head and waved at the desk. “She already had me sleep in. I’ve got reams of paperwork to catch up on.”

  “All of it will wait,” Herzer said, walking around the desk and lifting up on Edmund’s arm. “Don’t even think about fighting. I’m younger and faster than you.”

  “Age and treachery beats youth and speed every time,” Edmund growled. But he stood up.

  “Well, once we get drunk enough, maybe we can put it to the test,” Herzer chuckled. “Come on, boss, times a wastin’.”

  “You sound like Bast when you say that,” Edmund chuckled. “Speaking of which, you gotten your tubes cleaned lately?”

  “No, more’s the pity,” Herzer replied, frowning. “When we got here we were running around like chickens with our heads cut off. And since then the only female contact I’ve had is with subordinates. And I don’t even want to go there after the day I just had. Especially since that idiot decision of mine to set up The Mast.”

  “I thought that was brilliant,” Edmund said as they strode past the ring of guards around the headquarters.

  “So did I,” Herzer growled. “And I thought putting it up where the commander could watch was brilliant as well. Then I noticed that when they’re running up the ratlines, well… let’s just say that there are some fine butts in that class. And they’re getting finer every week!”

  Edmund laughed and clapped him on the back as they crossed the blacked-out road.

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure your lackanookie condition won’t…” He spun sideways as a sword lashed out of the darkness, then spun again as another attacker came from his off-side.

  Herzer and Edmund were unarmed but that didn’t last long. There was a crack of a broken arm and a scream as Herzer spun sideways, hurling one of the attackers into the roadway. But he had retained the assassin’s short sword and he tossed it -overhand to Edmund as the admiral flipped his cloak in the face of another attacker. Edmund caught the sword and skewered one of the assassins through the neck, then tossed the dead assassin’s sword to Herzer. After that it became somewhat bloody.

  Herzer parried a blade and used the same trick with the cloak to wrap up one of the attackers, running his blade across the man’s throat and throwing the thrashing body onto one that had closed on Edmund’s back.

  Edmund now had two blades and was moving forward through the group, the blades acting as if they had a will of their own. An arm thumped the ground followed by a head and Herzer used the distraction of the blood from the spurting stump to kill another half-blind assassin. He felt a cut across his shoulder but turned and jabbed backwards, killing the man behind him, then kicked out at one to his front. As the attacker bent double Herzer drove the blade of the sword into the side of his neck and outward, slashing his carotid artery and spilling more blood onto the soaked ground.

  In moments it was over, two of the attackers running into the night as a group of lantern-bearing marines pounded across the road.

  “Bloody hellfire,” the sergeant choked, looking at the scattered pieces on the ground.

  “Indeed,” Edmund said, dropping one of his swords and cleaning the other on a bit of almost-clean cloth. “Herzer, I think I owe you a drink.”

  Herzer looked at the lamp-lit ground and counted. “I dunno… I think we’re about even. Youth and speed might not beat age and treachery.”

  “Do we get cleaned up?” Edmund asked, looking at his blood-soaked uniform. “Or just go to the club?”

  “They’ve got a dress-code,” Herzer pointed out, chuckling.

  “Ah, they make exceptions for admirals,” Edmund said, walking towards the doors of the club and into the night.

  * * *

  “Hey, Van Krief,” Edmund said as they entered the main bar.

  He’d heard the expression: “You could have heard a pin drop,” but he’d never actually experienced it in his very long life. Now he really understood it. He actually heard, all the way across the club, a bartender set down the bottle he was holding. The faint “tap” was the only sound in the room for a moment.

  “Good evening, sir,” Van Krief said, getting up from the table by the door. “Are all the members of your staff alive?” She was a Blood Lord and be damned if she was going to react in shock to two blood-soaked officers walking into the main bar.

  “Do me a favor, will you?” Edmund said, stripping off his uniform tunic. “Go get some clothes for Herzer and me while we go wash up.” He took the short sword and tossed it overhand across the room, so hard that it stuck in the wall. “We had a spot of bother on the way over from headquarters.”

  * * *

  “You could have been killed!” Daneh said, angrily.

  “I very nearly was,” Edmund replied, taking another sip of his drink. “Would have been if it wasn’t for Herzer.”

  Daneh and Rachel had hurried over as soon as Van Krief had explained why she needed new clothes for Edmund and the major. The foursome, with Van Krief, Destrang and Tao at a nearby table, now had a corner of the bar all to themselves. Except for a hovering waiter who was watching them like a mouse watches a hovering falcon.

  “Nah, you were doing fine on your own.” Herzer chuckled, taking a deep pull off of his beer. “It was hairy for a second or two, though. You spotted them before I did, I’ll give you that.”

  “Years of hard living, son,” Edmund replied, shaking his head. “Years of hard living. Some habits die hard.”

  “You’re going to need bodyguards,” Rachel said.

  “Yep,” Talbot replied, grimly. “But the good news is, somebody doesn’t like me.”

  “That’s good news?” Daneh asked. “Since when?”

  “It means someone considers him a threat,” Herzer pointed out. “And whereas I’m sure there’s more than one Navy officer who would love to shove a foot of steel in his back, I doubt that they were the source of the assassins.”

  “Which means Sheida’s old friend Chansa,” Edmund said. “Or, possibly, Paul. So that’s the good news. The bad news is that it’s not just me who will need guards, but you, Rachel and the squirt as well. Which is why there’s already a team of marines over at the VIP quarters and more on the way.”

  “Yes, they would try to strike at you through us, wouldn’t they?” Daneh asked, quietly.

  “Yes, they would,” Edmund replied. “Rachel, I hate to talk business but are you up to another long coach ride?”

  “If I must,” she said.

  “Daneh, I’m going to put you to work,” Edmund continued. “Special assistant for medical facilities or something. When the fleet comes back I want better medical care than the last time. I haven’t been able to put enough emphasis on that as I’d like. You can. We’re setting up another Fleet base in Balmoran, Rachel. I want you to go up there and get in on the ground floor on the medical facilities. You’ll report to your mother; she’ll report to me. The fleet can actually make for Balmoran better than they can for here, if we fight in the north again. The main thing that we’d be bringing in is casualties. I’d like the hospital up there to be top-notch. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Rachel said. “Can do. As long as I’ve got the personnel and funding.
”

  “You’ll have the funding if I have to go to the damned capitol and squeeze; personnel you’re probably going to have to make yourself,” Edmund replied. “And you won’t be in charge, you’ll be my eyes and ears. If you have suggestions and can get them implemented there, do so. If you have real problems, report it to Daneh. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  “Okay, now let’s all get shit faced,” Edmund said, draining his drink and waving it at the waiter.

  “What if there are more assassins?” Daneh asked.

  “Honey, when we walk back to the quarters we’re going to be surrounded by a platoon of marines,” Edmund replied. “Chansa may be able to get my drunk ass under those conditions, but he’s by God going to have to work for it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Herzer wasn’t sure whether he was supporting Van Krief or she was supporting him when they got to his room. But he did know that it was a bad thing that both of them were there.

  It had been an evening for learning. He’d learned that Destrang and Tao were light-weights. He’d learned that Daneh hiccupped when she got drunk. He’d learned that Rachel just went to sleep. He’d learned that Van Krief had a hollow leg and a great singing voice. At least, it sounded great when he was drunk. And she knew some really good songs, not all of them fit for polite company.

  To no one’s surprise, Edmund knew more. But Herzer had been surprised that he also sang better. He’d never pictured Edmund as a singer, before. Bellower, yes, singer, no. Herzer had learned so much.

  But he still had the problem of the door. And nothing that he learned was helping.

  “Am I holding you up, or are you holding me up?” Herzer enunciated carefully.

  “I think…” Van Krief said, crinkling her brow. “I think we’re holding each other up.”

  “Me too,” Herzer said. If they were holding each other up, then they could only make it to one bedroom. That was bad.