by Britt Ringel
“Well,” Covington offered as he looked away humbly, “at any rate. From what Mark told me, they weren’t using standard Federation PD tactics. That only leaves a few spinward corporate systems left.”
“I keep thinking of what Miranda told me last week…” Hall said absent-mindedly.
Tannault’s eyes brightened. “How is Lieutenant Ayala, by the way? How’d she do on Elathra?”
“She did great!” Hall answered enthusiastically. “Elathra took a lot of damage but she kept us up and running. We talked after the skirmish and she was gushing with pride over her first action. Ask her about running the core without a backup cooling system.” He snickered lightly. “I dare you.”
Tannault returned his friend’s grin. “I’m glad she did well. She worked hard for the opportunity to be a chief engineer and I didn’t think she’d get it until Secure Solutions sent us Elathra unexpectedly.”
Covington nodded and reflected briefly before adding, “It’s tough being in a small navy. I understand why Peter jumped at the opportunity to join IaCom.” He looked back to Hall and returned to the topic at hand. “What is it that she mentioned to you last week?”
Hall looked around the corridor to ensure there were no eavesdroppers. “When Elathra’s heat exchange went down, the operations officer, a sub-lieutenant named Gables, had a conversation with Miranda over the net. The sub-lieutenant was furious over her orders.” Hall looked fearfully at the closed door to the conference room. “I witnessed the exchange between Gables and Commander Vernay. Her station was right next to mine.” Hall shivered while bringing his voice to nearly a whisper. “To be honest, Vernay scares the hell out of me. She grabbed Gables and told her to pick someone to run into an inferno inside one of the wings. When Gables told her it was nothing but suicide, Vernay gets this unearthly expression on her face and coldly tells her, ‘I don’t care.’” Hall shivered again. “The look she gave Gables… I can’t describe the depth to it. I’ve seen video of the Chetellx and I swear their faces were friendlier.” Hall swallowed and said, “I always thought it was strange that someone who’s almost our age has such a high rank but… after Elathra, I’d swear Vernay has seen more combat than our entire fleet put together.”
Covington and Tannault exchanged knowing looks. “I guess that exchange explains why Gables is leaving Seshafi,” Tannault judged.
Hall’s eyebrows arched upward. “She’s leaving? Interesting.” He scratched his chin purposefully. “Anyway,” he resumed, “Gables left the bridge at a run. As she was going to the main deck on the starboard wing, Miranda said that Gables contacted her to get more information on the heat exchange control panel.” Hall stepped forward as he delivered the penultimate gossip. “Miranda wished her luck and the last thing Gables said was, ‘If Anelace could make it to the end then this piece of Hollie crap can too.’”
Covington shrugged dismissively. “Naval officers disparage their ships in the heat of the moment all the time, Mark.”
Hall shook his head and replied, “That’s not what I’m talking about, Clayton. I spent the last week in Records. The only information I could find about a ship named Anelace was a corvette that held off a flotilla of pirates but was ultimately lost with half her crew over a year ago.”
Tannault’s eyes widened. “Half her crew? Ouch. Well, that certainly sounds like the calling card of our fleet commander. Was Garrett Heskan the captain?”
Hall raised his hands upward as he shrugged uncertainly. “I don’t know. It was just a two-line blurb in a larger article.” He smiled impishly as he doled out the information. “But get this, the article was a propaganda piece about how the Brevic Republic was making remote mining operations safer by cracking down on pirate activity in their,” he made air quotes as he said, “Northern sector.”
“What?” Covington cocked his head to a side.
Hall was nodding now. “Anelace was a ‘Vic corvette, Clayton.”
“That can’t be…” Covington’s head shot upward. “Wait a minute! Didn’t Captain Heskan say ‘East’ during this last briefing?”
Chapter 4
The rolling, green waves in the nearby ocean were buffeted under the Hollaran shuttlecraft’s downward thrust. The tiny transport teetered slightly as it approached the shuttle pad before settling upon its landing gear. A kontradmiral quickly descended the shuttle’s ramp and was escorted toward the Roman-styled palatial estate. Neither the man’s rank nor his position as Assistant to the Chief of Hollaran Coreward Intelligence allowed him to bypass the security procedures waiting attentively for him at the estate’s entrance.
Once past those protocols and inside the main quarters, the flag officer walked hurriedly to a library that not only contained a dizzying collection of actual, leather-bound books but the frail woman he sought.
Samanta De Luca smiled but did not rise from her seat. “Hello, Daniel. What has taken you all the way from Ocean and down to the surface?”
Kontradmiral Daniel Nichols returned the matriarch’s smile and answered, “I have some important news regarding the problem we fixed several months ago.” He circled around a broad, padded ottoman to sit across from De Luca. “It seems there has been a firestorm of inquiries about one person we implanted into Secure Solutions.”
Ancient brown eyes swept over the flag officer. “Your man inside the Foster Fifteen has given them nothing, yes?”
Nichols nodded. “Of course. He and I share a bond that transcends his time inside that organization. He won’t divulge the true nature of the man we helped disappear. However, this firestorm has now spread to us. The head of the Saden navy has been discreetly using his contacts within the Commonwealth. I know, personally, of five attempts by this man to gain access to the personnel records of one Komandor Garrett Heskan and those are just the efforts I’ve been made aware of.”
De Luca shrugged while shifting her cane to the front. The elderly woman began the slow, torturous process of standing. “Let Wallace waste his resources. He’s obviously never going to find such records.” With a painful huff, the woman leaned heavily on her cane and rose from her chair. She looked at the intelligence officer with a questioning eye. “You came all the way here to tell me this?”
“No, there’s more. My contact also says that because Secure Solutions has no suitable explanation why they sent a privateer to fight on behalf of Seshafi, they are planning to provide an unusual level of support to Sade during any new casus belli between the two star systems. Their conflict is far from over.”
De Luca frowned as she moved her gaze to the full-length wall screen set to window mode. It was another perfect day in the Chausible Archipelago. “That was an unfortunate mistake but how could we have known that Sade paid the Foster Fifteen for non-interference in the matter. It makes no difference, however. I will do what I must to protect my niece’s love.”
Nichols shifted uncomfortably at the unusually personal candor from the woman. Wanting to change the delicate subject he questioned, “How is Isabella? I heard she was promoted before accepting command of the Tikoloshe. Wasn’t her task force involved in defeating the Brevic counterattack in Kalyke?”
“Yes, her cruiser sustained moderate damage,” De Luca replied. “But her task force retained control over the Brevic system and smashed what we believe to be the last of the ‘Vic carriers. Not only have we forced the Republic to the bargaining table but we have united the New Roma star systems once again.” De Luca smiled slightly to herself as she added, “And my blood was instrumental in the reunification.”
“Where is the Tikoloshe now?”
“Isabella received orders to sail to Devera for repairs along with the other damaged ships from the task force, although the bulk of that fleet remains in Kalyke under Wiceadmiral DeTongas. My understanding is that we will use that system as a bartering chip for the peace process.”
“She’s so close to Hollara,” Nichols observed. “Why doesn’t she come home while her cruiser is in the repair yard?”
�
�Because she is still running from herself.” De Luca sighed. “She is running from her feelings of personal loss and we both know that throwing yourself into your work is the most common means of distraction.”
“And we both know the futility of it,” Nichols replied forlornly.
De Luca took several seconds to turn her unwilling frame toward her companion. “I will not shatter her illusions. She will discover this for herself but every day apart is one more day that weakens their bond.” She lowered her head fractionally as she admitted, “Perhaps I am being selfish but I’m afraid of losing her again.”
“We could always choose not to intercede in the matter of Secure Solutions and Sade,” Nichols offered.
* * *
The announcement from the Devera tunnel point controller crackled over Caracaras’ bridge speakers, creating a natural lull in the routine conversations playing out inside the compartment. “AV Caracaras, your flotilla is clear to dive.”
“It’s about time,” her captain muttered. He briefly glanced at the zoomed-in tactical plot showing a narrow section of space to confirm his six-ship privateer task force was in good order. “Casey, send this: Squadron One-One, this is Komandor Lake. We’ve been cleared to tunnel, finally. Prepare to dive for Devera upon my signal.”
The delay in the Acca Larentia system had actually been minor, his squadron forced to heave to and give a small task force of Hollaran warships priority over the tunnel point. Delays could always be expected. The Secure Solutions privateer company was based in an important Hollaran star system and the squadron was sailing a major traffic lane. However, each hour waiting at various tunnel points added up and his squadron still required seven additional dives to arrive at Sade. It would take the better part of two weeks to make the voyage, providing them barely a week to integrate into the Saden defense fleet.
“Navigation, commence our dive when ready,” Lake ordered as he settled himself into the comfort of his captain’s chair. The nausea of the transition into tunnel space would still strike at him, like all other humans, despite a full career of sailing the tunnels.
“Aye, Komandor,” came the reply after a brief pause.
It promised to be a busy couple of months, Lake realized. Eleven days sailing to Sade, an intense week’s worth of exercises and then a defensive action against the neighboring star system. Upon conclusion of that engagement, he would immediately return to Hollaran space, to Secure Solutions’ homeport, and repair and provision an even larger squadron. That force would face the inevitable return trip to Sade in support of IaCom’s anticipated casus bellum, the next retaliation in the ongoing conflict.
Lake felt almost sorry for the Seshafian fleet commander his squadron would surely pummel as the disorientation of Caracaras’ dive overtook him.
* * *
Heskan stood in his quarters and stared at himself in the mirror. While some may have thought his Seshafian naval coat looked sparse, a mere two medals rested across his left breast, Heskan preferred the sleek look of a uniform unburdened by rows of awards. Given the corporate system’s standard policy of permitting medals awarded from past navies on their uniforms, Heskan certainly could have significantly augmented the meager line had he not wanted to conceal his origins. The truth, however, was that even if Heskan could obtain the Brevic medals awarded him, he felt those medals would be somehow diminished by placing them on his current coat. Those medals were paid for with Brevic blood, he thought. They deserve a Brevic uniform. Besides, I don’t mind making a fresh start here. He looked again in the mirror and for the first time in many years, his eyes did not linger over the location where he refused to add a certain awarded medal. Fresh starts are good. Heskan took a final check of his uniform starting at his shoes. Critical eyes moving slowly upward, he inspected every line and thread to ensure compliance with AmyraCorp’s dress and appearance standards. He was pleased to see the uniform’s occupant smiling when he reached the top. A knock on the door punctuated his ritual.
“Enter,” he said loudly.
The door to Heskan’s cabin opened to reveal the lithe form of Vernay. The dark blue of her service dress counterbalanced the striking blue in her eyes. With a smile, she walked in. The smile twisted roguishly as she brought her right hand up to the single, gold braid that wrapped under her right shoulder’s epaulette.
“Nice to see you found the time to fit the command braid to your coat, Stacy,” Heskan quipped.
She ran slender fingers delicately over the cord. “Oh, this? Is that what this is?”
Heskan returned her playful smile. “I saw your latest report on Ajax.”
“She’ll be ready, sir. We’ve been working like mad since I’ve taken command. Midshipman Pruette has cracked the proverbial whip with the gunnery crews, although he may never forgive you after you promoted and transferred PO Thomas off Ajax,” she teased. Former Gunnersmate Second Class Tyler Pruette had accepted his commission and subsequent elevation to the fourth-rate’s WEPS position with aplomb. The new status helped him swallow the bitter pill of losing Gunnersmate Third Class Lee Thomas.
“Did that sub-lieutenant cope with the fact you placed a midshipman over her?” Heskan asked.
Pruette’s promotion to Ajax’s weapons section commander came with the uncomfortable task of explaining to a Seshafian sub-lieutenant why a junior officer would be installed above her. Ship captains inside the Republic held wide latitude on arranging their ship’s command hierarchy however they saw fit. However, Seshafi practiced a much more traditional naval regime and the sub-lieutenant had taken the perceived slight poorly.
“I took the Chief’s recommendation and transferred her off Ajax, sir,” Vernay admitted. “However, I did give her a good OPR before she left. I didn’t end her career or anything but she wasn’t going to adjust and I don’t have time for babying her ego.” Her smile widened. “I think it also sent a message that the times are a-changin’ on Ajax. My ship will be the best ship in the navy.” The determination in her voice was easy to perceive.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Heskan warned. “I think that distinction will be reserved for Dioscuri.”
“Have you told Nguyen yet?”
Heskan shook his head. “I want to wait until after this ball.”
“Captain, don’t you think you’d be safer on the C-Three ship?”
Heskan growled lightly. “Stacy, I’ve already told you that in order to inspire, you have to lead from the front. I’m not hiding in the rear echelon and ordering sailors to take risks that I’m unwilling to take.”
“Garrett…” Vernay said softly.
Heskan shook his head fiercely. “No, Stacy. End of discussion. I don’t care about corporate tradition.” He gestured between the two of them. “We’re Brevic and we lead the charge.”
“Like Hayes?” Vernay asked sarcastically.
Heskan looked at her sternly. “That’s not fair. Admiral Hayes did lead from the front. He was on Avenger and took the same risks as everyone on that ship.” He paused slightly as he sighed at the memories. “And he didn’t run away in Helike. He preserved a priceless asset so it could be used again in the war effort.” Heskan lowered his head in thought and his voice became less certain. “Frankly, I wonder if Captain Gray was wrong and we should have just left the pilots and cleared the system.”
Shock washed over Vernay’s face. “You don’t mean that, Captain. What about the Brevic tradition of not leaving our people behind? Gables would be dead along with all the other pilots.”
“I know you’re right,” Heskan conceded. “I guess what I meant to say is that war never gives you easy choices and oftentimes the ones that end up saving the most lives are the hardest ones to make.” Real concern leaked into his voice as he prophesized, “I think we’re both going to experience that firsthand, Stacy. This war with IaCom could go very badly for us.”
Vernay tilted her head in agreement and stepped closer to a higher-ranking officer than she had any right to. Her voice softened as she stared into Heskan
’s eyes. “That’s why I wish you’d command from the C-Three ship, where it’s safe. The vanguard is going to get pounded, Garrett.”
“Not going to happen, Stacy.” Heskan took an unconscious step back from the intimacy her proximity had created. “That’s final, Commander.” He turned from her and walked habitually toward the closet for his cover before remembering the Seshafian navy did not use hats. “Besides, I think the last battle proved there are no safe places in a corporate war.”
* * *
The center of the Saden star system shone crimson. Like nearly three quarters of all stars in the galaxy, it was a cool-burning, red star with a habitability zone much closer than Sol’s. Expanding outward from the center, nine planets orbited the red sentinel at measured paces. The second planet possessed the necessary ingredients to sustain human life. Three additional terrestrial planets followed Sade proper but were barren, arid wastelands. The system’s trio of jovians came next with a tiny dwarf planet capping the major bodies of the star system.
Heskan had seen systems like Sade all across the Republic. It was non-descript space, unremarkable except that it contained a single habitable surface for humans in a galaxy that seemed to hold few of them. Staring at the yacht’s wall screen, watching the image of Sade’s crimson star was like looking at any number of Heskan’s memories. Skathi, Perdita… so many places I’ve seen, Heskan reminisced. Sade looks just like any of them. A dread-filled premonition passed through him. What an ordinary system to die in.
“I never cared for the red ones,” McDaniel uttered next to Heskan. Heskan assumed the robust privateer captain’s voice was supposed to be muted but it still carried through most of the room. McDaniel placed a beefy hand on Heskan’s shoulder. “They always seem a little malevolent to me but I guess that’s just because of the color.”
“What’s the color of your home star, Frank?” Heskan asked while continuing to stare into the scarlet abyss.