“Ezell. Go.”
“Captain, it’s Lieutenant Commander Wandrey,” she stated. “We’re in your ready room, ma’am.”
“On my way, Commander. Ezell, out.”
The wait wasn’t long. Within moments, Captain Ezell strode into the room. She turned and dogged the door behind her. Both Wandrey and Jack brought themselves to attention. Andrew, not wanting to be disrespectful, stood and waited. He surreptitiously inspected her and, using much of his Jericho and DIB training, saw quite a bit in the captain.
For starters, she carried herself with confidence and walked with precision. Each movement was exact and controlled, which suggested to Andrew that she was attentive to the most minute of details. Her jet-black hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail so it wouldn’t float about freely in combat should the ship lose artificial gravity, a sign the captain was an experienced officer.
Her uniform was perfectly creased and immaculate, which wasn’t surprising to Andrew. Dominion Navy officers prided themselves on puffed up displays of their commissions whenever they could. With Captain Ezell, though, Andrew had the distinct feeling there was no pomp, no peacocking. Her chest simply had her nametag on one side, embroidered above the right pocket, with CAS NAVY embroidered on the left. Her collar had a silver eagle on each lapel with four stars beneath them. That part of the uniform was the only part he wasn’t sure about. The only four stars in the Dominion were admirals. He’d have to ask her about them when he got the chance.
“As you were,” she said, and Jack and LCDR Wandrey eased a bit. The captain strode to the chair across from Andrew and pulled it out. She smoothly seated herself and looked him in the eye. Andrew was struck by those eyes. They weren’t stunning or beautiful—far from it—they were filled with warmth and compassion, and a will so powerful that Andrew began to understand why she commanded such loyalty. There was steel in her backbone, he decided. “Senator Hastings, my name is Captain Kacey Ezell. You’re aboard my ship, the CAS Iroquois, as a guest. I know you have many questions, so let me try to answer the ones I expect to save us all some trouble.
“First—yes, you’re free to move about the ship, as long as you don’t enter any restricted areas. Those doors are clearly marked in red. Not a simple stripe, but actually painted red. You cannot miss them. If you violate this order, you’ll be escorted to a holding cell in our brig, where you’ll spend your time until a more fitting location can be found off ship.
“Second, please don’t fraternize with my officers or enlisted. I know politicians have a bit of a seedy reputation, but our file on you suggests you’re nothing like the typical nobility of the Dominion. I’ll explain why I feel you’re different in a bit. However, some of our younger officers and enlisted are, how should I say, impressionable. More for your safety than for theirs, please don’t encourage any behavior that could jeopardize their Navy careers. I’d be very put out if my guest ruined their lives.
“Third, Chief Clemons will assist you with locating major points of interest on this ship. The mess deck is popular, of course, since that’s where you’ll find food twenty-four hours a day. There’s a gym where the gravity can be adjusted that’s available at almost all times. From 2000-2200 hours daily, the gym is closed for cleaning. The chief is at your disposal and will not only be your new best friend, but also your escort, in case you’re unsure about anything or have a question.
“And last, my command staff and I are mulling over the option of turning you over to the Prime Minister of the Dominion, Laird McCarroll. However, I feel this would be counterproductive. Not only because it would legitimize the claim of Emperor Ezekiel, but it would also bring stability to the Dominion. An unstable Dominion means they cannot attack us. Did I miss anything?”
Andrew frowned, thinking, while his mind processed what Captain Ezell had said. His suspicions had been correct about one thing—the captain had steel in her spine. He could tell by listening to her command voice. It was melodic, but firm. Almost motherly. Andrew shook his head. The captain was probably very inspiring to her crew. If Maelstrom produced more officers like her, the Dominion was in big trouble.
Andrew decided what she’d told him was more than enough to understand the rules on her ship, so he shifted gears with his first comment.
“Thank you for letting me stay aboard your ship, Captain Ezell. Officially, I’m requesting sanctuary, with your approval,” he stated as diplomatically as he could. Captain Ezell smiled, apparently pleased. For a moment Andrew felt as though he’d passed some test, though he wasn’t sure what the subject had been.
“Sanctuary was offered when we brought you aboard, but making things official actually legitimizes your position.” Captain Ezell nodded.
“Captain, what can you tell me about the Alliance you’ve forged at Heart Song?” Andrew asked, using the name of the system instead of the habitable planet orbiting the star. “I’m very curious to hear how things work there compared to the Dominion.”
“This is how we work in the Alliance, Senator,” Captain Ezell said as she folded her hands on the table. Her face remained serene, calm. “We elect five leaders to the chief governing body. Beneath them, we have our Congress. There are two elected representatives from each world who draw up the laws and pass them. The five we elect decide if these laws violate our Constitution. If they don’t, they’re passed and enacted. If they do violate the Constitution, they’re sent back to Congress, and they try to correct their mistakes or, more commonly, dismiss the bill entirely. We’re a republic, but unlike the Domai, we don’t curtail the Constitution to suit our temporary monetary desires. We’re not in any way perfect, but when compared to the corruption in the Dominion, or the ‘mob rule’ mentality a pure democracy entails, we believe we’re the best option available. Perhaps, in time, a better form of government will come about. Until then, I won’t be holding my breath.”
“How many worlds belong to the Alliance?” Andrew asked, his voice carefully neutral. He’d thought Maelstrom was isolated and that it was the only place the rebels had settled. Clearly, he needed to start doubting some of the reports coming in from the DIA. Their analysts were nothing but hot garbage.
“More than five, less than ten,” Captain Ezell replied cryptically. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you more precise details at this time.”
“That entertains the possibility that you will tell me in the future,” Andrew probed. The captain smiled thinly.
“That it does. They told me you were sharp.”
“Not really sharp, just observant,” Andrew stated.
“Unusually humble for a rich kid,” she said and pulled out an elegant-looking datapad. She placed it on the table and slid it over to Andrew. “I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.”
“I will not betray the Dominion,” Andrew immediately said. “Even if they all want me dead right now.”
“Oh, no, I’d never ask that of anyone.” Captain Ezell shook her head. “I’ve been reading our intelligence reports about you. You, quite frankly, are a fascinating creature. Legitimized bastard, given the keys to the kingdom, did one solid, good thing in your too short time as a senator, then promptly got excommunicated by the senate for not going along with the status quo. I admire that. My questions are more of a personal nature, however.”
“Oh.” Andrew slowly nodded. “I don’t see any harm in that. Ask away.”
“Who are you?” she asked, her deep brown eyes boring into his. “Tell me your name, please.”
Uncomfortable, Andrew tried to look away. He quickly discovered he couldn’t. An overwhelming sense of drowning enveloped him as he struggled to fight her gaze. His mind swam as he tried to tell her he was Darius Hastings, grandson of the great Dame Hastings. After a few seconds of futile resistance, he finally answered something completely different than what he’d intended.
“Andrew Espinoza,” he replied and suddenly gasped, horrified he’d blown his cover. Captain Ezell, however, didn’t seem surprised at all. Can she read minds? he wond
ered. It wasn’t the strangest thing he’d seen lately, given the abilities of his niece.
“No, I don’t read minds,” she replied, apparently anticipating his shock and horror. She leaned back in the chair and tapped her chin thoughtfully. Her demeanor changed slightly, and Andrew felt sick to his stomach that he’d folded so easily. She continued, “We’ve suspected for a while that the identity of Darius Hastings was the cover of an intelligence operative, but we didn’t know for whom, until Project Jericho was burned by the DIB and other interested parties.”
“How…I don’t…” Andrew was at a loss for words.
“You talked some when we first interrogated you, when you first arrived,” Captain Ezell stated. “An unintended side effect of the drug we administered to you on David’s Rock. Your subliminal programming didn’t view it or us as a threat, and thus, when we started wondering who you were, you told us. Then we did a deep DNA scan and found your real identity beneath the nanites. Whoever did your transformation did an amazing job. You’d have passed our basic blood tests.”
“What else did I say?”
“Congratulations on becoming a father, by the way,” the captain said in a friendly tone. There was no mockery there, which made it all the worse for Andrew. Being derided was one thing, but it was genuinely difficult to accept that the captain was earnest in her praise. “Do you know when your girlfriend is due? If you’re like your father, you’re going to make an excellent parent.”
“Oh, my God.” Andrew buried his face in his hands, defeated. Years of training and hard work had all gone up in smoke. He was officially outed, burned. He could never use the Darius Hastings cover again. The financial resources of that cover had been worth more than anything. Dame Hastings’ obvious connection to the identity had also helped. Wait a second, he thought as something else she said caught his attention. “What do you mean, what you know about my father? You knew my dad?”
“My goal here, Senator, was not to blow your cover,” Captain Ezell told him, ignoring Andrew’s question about his father. “In fact, judging by your actions during Laird McCarroll’s power grab, you’re one of the few voices of reason within the Dominion. This makes us sympathetic to your cause. We definitely don’t want your cover burned. In fact, my subliminal suggestion was designed to see how ingrained your cover was. Being on the run lowered the barrier between the cover and your real identity.”
“Huh?” Andrew looked up, dumbfounded. “Sympathetic…to my cause?”
“Outside our misguided attack on Gran Via just under ten years ago, we have no desire to destroy the Dominion,” Captain Ezell declared as she motioned to the datapad before him. “You aren’t the biggest threat. Neither are the Abassi. The Kingdom of Heaven might be a danger to the southwestern borders of the Dominion, but after the beating they took at New Israel, they’re content to sit and build back up. We think it’s because they’re fighting a two-front war. As for the Dominion, well…if this ‘Kin War’ for the Blood Throne wasn’t going on, I could see the Navy striking out into Abassi territory to end the war for good.”
“I was going to talk about the time dilation between the Dominion and Maelstrom, but…” Andrew began but trailed off as he drank in the information offered on the datapad’s screen. His eyes widened as his analytical brain began to pick the various reports and estimates apart to create a bigger picture. After a few minutes he looked back up at the captain, who was nodding with a solemn expression.
“They finally began to mobilize last year,” she confirmed. “For two hundred years, the Dominion has waited. For us, time may have gone by faster, compared to you, but we waited as well, for almost half as long. We knew they’d eventually get back around to us. Our watcher ships have been observing from Lagertha, and more and more military equipment is being brought into the Ma’al-naar system. War looms. Dominion, Alliance, Domai Republic…we all face the prospect of the Caliphate ruling over us once more, and this time, they aren’t going to go easy on us. Sources tell us they’ve moved a superdreadnought construction facility near the asteroid belt in the Ma’al-naar system. Quadrillions of tons of raw materials are there for them to use to construct a single dreadnought, every month, for up to forty years. They’ll build their fleet there, unless we do something to stop it.”
“We?” Andrew looked at her, slightly confused. He shook his head. “I bring literally nothing to the table. No offense, but I’m—or rather, Darius is—the trono senatorum, nothing more. He can veto and vote, and that’s it. He’s not a particularly powerful senator, nor is it a terrific seat, outside the family’s control of the paikka senatari position.”
“Which has been in the custody of the previous Justice of the Black,” Captain Ezell said, “Sir Gerrold Black, who now happens to be the Justice of the Service under Prime Minister McCarroll’s faction, after Admiral Rankapurta’s defection to Prince Edward’s side. We do try to keep abreast of the activities of our cousins in the Dominion.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Andrew said without heat. He knew intelligence agencies spied on everyone, be they friend or foe. It simply paid to know what the big bruising neighbor next door was up to. It was one of the Dominion’s recent failings—it had become too insular, ignoring the players outside its borders it wasn’t actively fighting. This was one of the many drums Chief Gan had been beating before Jericho had been violently taken down.
“What you bring is clout.” Captain Ezell emphasized the word as she stared hard at him. “One thing that’s always overlooked by the Dominion, which is something we pay close attention to.”
“Which is?”
“Who brokers the true power,” she replied. “Think about it for a second. Everyone thinks the wealthy hold the power. This is true in Parliament, and in society as a whole, but the reason the laird has Prince Ezekiel in his pocket is because he whispers into the ear of the prince. The prince listens to him. Emperor, whatever. We really don’t care who sits on the Blood Throne. The McCarroll family is wealthy, make no mistake about it, but in terms of the Dominion nobility, they’re near the bottom of the dog pile. True power is with those who can plant ideas in the minds of the leaders and guide the future of the nation.”
“I have no one’s ear, though,” Andrew protested. “Darius is a fugitive, and I’m just the brother of a dead representative and of another brother who’s supposed to be dead.”
“I’m not talking about your role as a senator or a Hastings. You’re an Espinoza,” Captain Ezell countered, drawing out his last name carefully. “Think about it long and hard. Your name, that name, has to mean something.”
“Maybe out on the Fringe, but…” Andrew trailed off as he suddenly realized, not who was in the Fringe, but what. He began to understand where Captain Ezell had been carefully leading him. “Oh. Oh shit. Pardon my language, but I’m an idiot.”
“Not an idiot, no.” Captain Ezell laughed lightly. “Just not thinking on a large enough scale yet. You’ve been running as an undercover agent for so long, you never truly considered it from the position of a power player not named Hastings.”
“I know a commodore who’s loyal to the Dominion first,” Andrew said as he thought back to the massive meeting that had taken place onboard the Eye of Solomon before he’d been detained by the Mad Cleaver of Kurong and sent to Special Projects. “He doesn’t have much, but he has a task force and some very loyal officers. He also has the support of the only Darkling I know of in the Fringe. Or vice versa. Not entirely certain on that one.”
“Which means, as useful as your Hastings cover is, it needs to go,” Captain Ezell said with a soft smile. “I know you’re probably enamored with this face, but don’t you want your real face back?”
“It’s been so long…” Andrew sighed and looked down at his hands. No, Darius’ hands, he corrected. What did his real hands look like? “You have the capability?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if we didn’t,” Captain Ezell told him. She looked at Jack. “When we’re done here, Chief, ta
ke our guest down to sickbay and have the doc remove the nanites in his system.”
“My own face…” Andrew’s laugh was a little sad. “I’ve almost forgotten what I look like. I’ve been undercover for a very long time.”
“Your file is impressive,” she acknowledged. “One of the true ‘good guys,’ from what I can tell. My intelligence analysts say you have a knack for infiltrating criminal elements and staying on the straight and narrow, which is surprising. You’ve also been put up for no less than three commendations for valor and service. That impressed my intelligence officer to no end.”
“Thank you?”
“Yes, that was a compliment.” Captain Ezell laughed again, softer this time. “Chief, how many people actually recognized our guest as Senator Hastings before we isolated him?”
“The load master of the shuttle Jikonsase recognized him almost immediately, ma’am,” Jack promptly answered, standing a little straighter than before. “Other than that, I think one or two of the enlisted Navy personnel in Operations were asking around, but Lieutenant Commander Wandrey told me she squashed that quickly, Captain.”
“I’ll talk to the bosun and ask her to speak with the coxswain of the shuttle,” Captain Ezell said as she stood up to leave. Andrew stood as well, uncertain what else to do. “Let the coxswain handle his shuttle crew. If it becomes an issue, I’ll get the bosun to throw her weight around. Jack, escort our guest to sickbay and let me know when the procedure’s complete. I’ll be in Ops until then. Dismissed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jack snapped to attention.
“Captain?” Andrew asked tentatively.
“Yes?” Captain Ezell stopped as she reached the door. She turned to look at him.
“I thanked Jack already for pulling me out of El Muladar,” Andrew said. “I just wanted to thank you for not spacing me once you realized I wasn’t who you wanted me to be.”
“I’ll admit, the Espinoza connection is far more important to me, right now, than Hastings could ever be,” she said cryptically and pushed open the ready room’s hatch. The captain ducked out and disappeared from Andrew’s sight.
Homeguard Page 23