Thani nodded slowly. “And now I hear she’s gone and leaned on her Kulina superiors to lean on Fleet HQ.”
“Seems that way,” said Erik. “What can you tell me about it?” As a staffer entered with some tea, which both men accepted with thanks.
Thani sipped, and pursed his lips. “Okay,” he said finally. “Let me tell you this. When Fleet is about to do something big, generally I’ll hear about it first. I’ve got staff who keep track of Fleet, they’ve got contacts inside, a lot of them are ex-Fleet.”
“A lot of this whole building,” Erik agreed.
Thani nodded. “Exactly. Spacer Congress is a giant Fleet echo chamber. Whenever Fleet makes a noise, this place rings like a bell. So usually, if they were about to do something stupid, which Fleet will too frequently do… something like put their greatest war hero under arrest on charges no sane person could believe… we’d usually hear about that in advance. Not exactly what was going to happen, mind you. We’d just get wind that something was about to happen — there’d be secret meetings, odd comings and goings, Admirals rescheduling Committee appearances, etcetera. And we’d all look at each other and say, ‘something’s up.’
“This one? Nothing.”
Erik frowned. “So what does that mean?”
“It means that they decided to court-martial Captain Pantillo with very little warning, and very little deliberation. It means that only a very few people knew about it in advance, and the way that Fleet works, you know which people they’d have been.”
“The Big Three,” said Erik.
Thani nodded. “Because the only part of the command pyramid that can make executive decisions with no deliberation is the very top part. Fleet Admirals Ishmael and Anjo, and Supreme Commander Chankow. That’s it.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” said Erik. “Fleet deliberates on everything. It’s a fucking bureaucratic mess, no one wants to make command decisions on anything politically controversial because all the top commanders are into politics themselves. If they’re going to railroad the Captain, they’ll want to make damn sure they’ve got a base of support behind them, and that means all kinds of meetings and number crunching, the kind of thing you’d hear about.”
“So here’s the thing,” said Thani, very seriously. “The Tanok Offensive. We heard rumblings about that two years in advance. Didn’t know what it was, of course, though some of us guessed.”
“Right,” said Erik, “well it takes years to plan a big offensive.”
“But then there was the Sherin Offensive. And we didn’t hear boo about that. It just fell out of the sky on our laps, and that was just as big.”
The Sherin Offensive was forty-two years ago, but Erik had studied it well. “Yeah, but that was to relieve pressure on the chah'nas flank after they got whacked at Pou-duk. We had no time to plan.”
“Sure,” said Thani. “It came from a non-human source.”
“Well no, we still had to do most of the planning ourselves…”
“Yes, but the motivation to do so came from a non-human source. In that case, the chah'nas.”
Erik stared at him for a long moment. “Are you saying that… that the Captain was court-martialled at the say-so of our allies?”
“No,” Thani said carefully. “I’m saying this. Whenever something happens in Fleet HQ, that Spacer Congress doesn’t get a whiff of in advance, it’s come from outside. I’m not saying that aliens commanded it. I’m just saying that it has to do with aliens. Fleet HQ often doesn’t deliberate on that at all. That’s one for very High Command only. That’s my guess.”
“Well,” said Erik after a long pause. “I’m not sure that helps me very much. No idea what to do with aliens?”
Thani shook his head, and sipped tea. “Erik, there’s peace coming now. That scares a lot of people as bad as war did. Some of them worse, because war’s all they’ve known. They’re used to war. War made them powerful. Lots of people are about to be downsized. Not all of them are thrilled about it.”
“Well Fleet will still be powerful. All those colonies will need patrolling, and worlds occupying. Takes a lot of ships. Army units too.”
“Yes,” said Thani. “And a lot of those ships are chah'nas technology, or alo technology. They call it the Triumvirate War because there’s three of us, in one big alliance. Now I see chah'nas every second day, but I’ll see an alo maybe once a year. There aren’t many people in humanity who know more about that alliance than me, but I’ll let you know this for free — most of us really don’t know what the alo are up to, or why they joined this alliance in the first place.
“Chah'nas, sure. They want their empire back. It’s not the most wonderful motivation, but it suits our purposes — the tavalai used to be their administrators in the old chah'nas empire, but they got uppity. Chah'nas want the tavalai back in their box. Chah'nas are complicated, but their motives usually aren’t. Alo…?” He shrugged expansively. “How much of the tech we use every day actually came from alo originally, and they gave to the chah'nas? Nobody knows. Alo are a damn sight smarter than chah'nas, smart enough they’ve got everyone else doing their fighting for them.
“There’s so much going on outside of human space that no one knows about, Erik. Stuff I can’t speculate upon with you because it would cost me my job and land me in prison. We’ve been in space twelve hundred years — with FTL, anyway. The first three hundred of that we were stuck in a small corner of krim space, fighting for our lives. Then we took krim space. Now we’ve taken half of tavalai space, and some of sard and kaal. There’s still a lot out there beyond the Spiral boundaries, all the way through the inner reaches. Those places have had sentient, spacefaring civilisation for fifty thousand years at least. More, if you count the Ancients. We’re just the kids out here, the newcomers. All these older species might have learned we’re damn tough to beat in a war, but they still think they can play us for fools, and they might be right.
“You’ve been understandably preoccupied with the war. But here in this office, I spend much of my days thinking and worrying about all that other stuff beyond our reach. And to me, it looks like Captain Pantillo got screwed over because he got in the way of something between Fleet HQ, and some other alien race we’ve got dealings with… and trust me, there’s a lot more of them than just chah'nas, alo or kuhsi. That’s all I can tell you.”
* * *
Trace found her marines on the beach, playing volleyball, swimming and surfing, or lazing on the sand with food and drink. She strolled from the cab, sidearm and details in her small pack — being out of uniform was an inconvenience that way, she couldn’t wear the gun openly. But she felt safe enough here, on a lightly-trafficked road with a line of shops and cafes… despite the car along the parking line with two people in it, plainly watching.
Her guys didn’t recognise her immediately — there were about twenty, less than ten percent of the Phoenix company, all buff and lean in their swimwear, and drawing no few looks from the civvies around them. Then Carville saw her, sitting up from the sand by the volleyball game, about to call out but she shushed him with a finger to her lips, and took a seat beside him and three others.
“Hey Major,” said Carville, genuinely pleased to see her. “Didn’t recognise you in civvies, nice look.” She wore tight swimshorts and a short top over a bikini top. Dress for female officers around those she commanded wasn’t quite as simple as for male officers, and this was as much skin as seemed wise, on a beach, trying to blend in.
“Thanks Benji,” she said. “You look like you’ve been looking after yourself this shore leave, I’m impressed.”
Private ‘Benji’ Carville grinned, delighted as they all were when she used their nicknames. He was Alpha Second Squad, like were they all. “Well I may have had one too many last night,” he admitted. “But only one.”
“PT this morning?” she pressed.
“Sir yes sir!” said Kaur, and they laughed.
“Three klicks run on soft sand and full w
orkout,” Carville assured her. “You’d have been proud.”
“I’m always proud Benji. I don’t know if I believe you, but I’m always proud.” More laughter.
“You here for the day Major?” Aram asked hopefully.
“Couple of hours,” she said. Truthfully, she could have spent more R&R time with them — they weren’t always drinking and being rowdy. But those that weren’t, tended to be the same ones, and if she spent all her down time with the same guys, the others would feel aggrieved.
“Any news on the Captain?” asked Kaur. She’d had to order them to go to the beach, have fun, and keep doing all the usual things they’d do on downtime. Because they were all upset, and when marines got upset, sometimes people got hurt. That was the last thing anyone needed now, the Captain least of all, so Trace had ordered them all to continue recreation as usual, no exceptions, and she’d tell them when anything changed.
“Nothing more than you’ve heard,” she told them. “Commander Huang’s down from Phoenix now, she’s in talks with HQ.”
“She’s got family contacts in HQ doesn’t she?” Aram pressed.
Trace nodded. They all looked so hopeful. But she made it a rule to always tell them straight, on anything that might affect their safety. “Honestly, I don’t hold much hope for Commander Huang. She’s a great commander, but that family she has at the top levels is a liability in this situation. I spoke to her briefly, and I got a distinct lack of urgency from her.”
“She’s ditching us?” said Carville, eyes darkening. “She’s ditching the Captain?”
“She’s caught between this family and blood family,” Trace corrected firmly. “Don’t judge her, it’s not her fault. But don’t expect much either. The one who has been raising holy hell is the LC.”
“Debogande?” said Kaur. “Seriously?”
Trace nodded. “He went to see his Great Uncle Gialidis this morning.” Eyes widened, everyone knew who that was. “Dale told me, said the LC was real serious, and real pissed. And just now Huang called me, told me to tell the LC to cool it a bit, apparently HQ’s getting jumpy. Huang told the LC to cool it herself, the LC told her it was a family visit and mind her own business.”
Surprised laughs from the marines. The standard assumption with LC Debogande was of an okay officer who couldn’t be much special because he couldn’t possibly deserve the post. Certainly no one thought he was the guy who came out swinging when the bigwigs pushed them in a corner. Most marines thought Debogande was a bigwig, he sure shined his shoes like one.
“So here’s the thing,” Trace continued. “I want us to start moving back to Phoenix. We’re being watched, for one thing.”
“That car in the parking line?” said Carville. “Yeah, there’s always one. There was a guy in the bar last night, another at a restaurant.”
“Exactly. I don’t want anyone getting paranoid, they might just be checking that nobody’s witness tampering before the trial. But I feel vulnerable down here, and I’ve requested to the Commander we start moving back to Phoenix before someone starts some incident, creates more trouble, etcetera. If they’re trying to stitch the Captain up, they might try to stitch us all up, we just don’t know what this is yet.”
Grim nods. “When?”
“Tomorrow. Commander’s arranging it.”
“What about Phoenix crew?”
“I’m not sure,” Trace admitted. “Not my area. But something similar seems wise. I’m sure the LC agrees with me. The Commander, not so much.”
“Yeah but Major,” said Aram. “I don’t like leaving the Captain alone down here. It’s a bad look.”
“There’s nothing we can do for him here,” Trace said firmly. “This isn’t our environment. It’s in the hands of the bigwigs now, and if any of us have to testify at the court-martial, they can fly us back. Until then, the best we can do is avoid making extra trouble.”
Reluctant nods. “You want us to tell the others?”
“Just rotate everyone else back through here,” said Trace, finding a comfortable seat on the sand. “Nothing suspicious for our watching friends. I’ll tell them myself.”
Two hours later, after some sun, some lunch, some swimming and even a bit of volleyball, she’d briefed all twenty-three of them in depth. That gave her confidence that the message would spread to the entire two hundred and twenty-eight strong Phoenix marine complement verbally, without too much distortion. She didn’t dare do it on any communication net on this planet — she was no network genius, and was certain Fleet HQ had plenty working for them who were. If she encrypted it, they’d break it in minutes.
She was playing volleyball when her next meeting showed up, strolling along the beachside path in a short pink skirt and blue top, brown-limbed and frizzy-haired with four casually dressed security guards in tow. Lisbeth Debogande waved, and Trace waved back.
“Sorry guys,” she said, tossing one the ball. “Business appointment, have a nice ride up if I don’t see you before.”
“Hey, just when she was losing too!” came the predictable catcalls. She climbed stairs from the beach with a middle finger raised to her marines, who fell about laughing.
Lisbeth looked quite awed as she approached, and Trace raised her sunglasses and smiled so she didn’t look quite so scary. “Hello Lisbeth, lovely to meet you finally.”
“Hello Major Thakur!” With wide-eyed worship, as Trace kissed her cheek. It was surprising, this reaction from a pretty young girl like Lisbeth Debogande. Trace hadn’t thought a young woman with this much money and power could be awed by anyone, least of all a marine major with barely a cent to her name. And she knew that the women in Erik’s family were not the military sort. Or most of them.
“Shall we get a drink?” she asked Lisbeth. “I’m kind of thirsty.”
They sat on a bench on the green lawn overlooking the beach, Lisbeth with a milkshake, Trace with a fruit juice. Lisbeth’s security went to the watching car and talked to the occupants, who looked quite annoyed. They also went to an older woman with a baby in a stroller, and talked to her too. She took the stroller and left. Wow, Trace thought. She hadn’t picked the woman for a watcher. This really wasn’t her environment. The sooner she was out of here, the better.
“You’re being watched?” asked Lisbeth, watching proceedings.
“Won’t they get in trouble?” Trace replied, nodding to her security team, still fanning across the beachfront. “Those are government agents they’re questioning.”
“Oh we have this debate all the time,” Lisbeth sighed. “Government security versus Debogande security. We usually win — most of our guys are former government agents, we pay them five times more and they know all the tricks.”
“Your family’s like a state unto itself,” Trace observed.
“I can’t argue,” said Lisbeth. “Were you really losing at volleyball before I arrived?” She seemed cheerful and curious, and was disarmingly friendly. Young, but not especially naive, and very far from stupid. She looked quite a lot like Erik, save she was a little darker, and her hair was bigger.
“Yes,” said Trace. Lisbeth looked astonished. Trace smiled. “There aren’t many similarities between volleyball and combat ops. A lot of these bigger boys would rather be my size under fire, I can tell you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Lisbeth, fascinated. “You must think me painfully silly.”
“Not at all. If I ventured into your world I’m sure I’d be lost as well.”
“I very much doubt that. Please let me thank you for being such a good friend to my brother. I love him so dearly, and although I know your job and his are very different, I’m sure that him returning safely must have something to do with you. So thank you, truly.”
Trace felt uncomfortable. She’d never held the poor opinion of Erik that some of her troops did, but she’d not been completely convinced, either. Had that been wrong? Certainly his actions had surprised and impressed her, these last few days. Had she been prejudiced in her assumptions towar
d him? Even Dale reported, very grudgingly, that his family actually weren’t too bad. And now Lisbeth… if ever there was a girl who was set up to turn out poorly, with her wealth and privilege. But instead she was proving quite charming. Prejudice was the sign of a peaceless mind, when objectivity was her goal. Was she failing at this as well?
“Your brother has surprised me,” she admitted. “I’ve never had money. Those of us without it often don’t know what to make of those with so much. Sometimes I think we see only the money. But Erik has shown me the man, and the man is impressive.”
“Mother always tells us that we’ll have to work twice as hard to earn true respect,” Lisbeth said solemnly. “Because so many people will assume we just get handed everything on a plate. She also taught us not to resent it, because we are very fortunate and all good fortune naturally comes with a downside.”
“Karma,” Trace agreed. “Kulina believe the same.”
Lisbeth smiled. “So. You said you had something to discuss with me?”
Trace nodded. “I’m arranging for all of my marines to head back to Phoenix. There are a lot of frayed tempers and hot heads, I think it’s safer if we remove ourselves from a volatile situation, for everyone’s sake.”
“I think that sounds very wise.”
“But I only have command authority over marines. Phoenix’s spacer crew are under Commander Huang, and she is less inclined to do the same with her people. Your brother agrees with me, however. Now, I always like to have emergency contingencies, for all Phoenix personnel. At the moment, if we were to need to get back to Phoenix, we can’t guarantee enough transport to do it quickly.”
Lisbeth frowned. “Phoenix has her own shuttles, doesn’t she?”
“We have four, but only one is currently grounded, and using them to come down to Homeworld requires Fleet HQ approval. If I had to move them without Fleet HQ approval, that could be problematic.”
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