by Jim Rudnick
He had tried to be honest. He had tried to not read anything into what happened. He had simply protected the stage and the persons on it from any kind of convict or citizen attacks. And yes, he had to kill two people to do that, which called for another double. Hell, a triple would be better.
Clicking save and submitting it to the admiral’s office had taken only a second, and a knock came on his door just then.
He smiled and said, "Come in."
The door slid open and he faced a new steward, his own it appeared, for the first time.
"Sir—I am sorry, I do not see a rank on your uniform, Sir, but I have brought what you have asked for, Sir, and the quartermaster says there are more than thirty-one cases on hand. Sir," the smiling man in the blues said.
The steward carefully placed a bottle of Black Scotch, a single plas-glass, and an ice bucket on the room’s small shelf that ran just under the viewport. He looked at Tanner and tilted his head, but Tanner shook his own and the man did not pour.
"Thanks—um, yes, I don't know your name either," he said and the steward smiled.
"Sir, I am Georges, the Deck Eighteen steward, and I will be looking after all your needs on our short hop over to Neres in about seven or eight days, Sir. Anything you need, you just ask, and I've already loaded the latest ship's layout and hours for the Sterling's mess and gym and such, Sir," he said and the smile Tanner thought was catching.
"Good for you, Georges … muchly appreciated and thanks!"
He poured a quick one to finish off the bottle he'd brought over from the Marwick and then realized that he'd need to ring Georges in a while. How long could one bottle last?
But until then, he was a simple visitor on board the Sterling, no rank, no duty, not a thing to worry about at all … except Tibah …
Epilogue ~
On Neres in the Baronial palace, the Baroness sat on one of the many balconies that overlooked her well-gardened grounds. Early but still she had felt like something light to drink, so staff had brought her an iced tea. While it was good, she smiled when she realized she'd have rather had a white wine, one of those Quaran Rieslings.
But that smile made her realize she had not achieved her goal of getting Nusayr out of prison, and by doing so, helping him re-take his position as the leader of the Olbian people and helping him surreptitiously to foment rebellion, which would take one planet away from the Caliphate total of nine.
And down to eight would have made the Barony the new number two member of the Confederacy and have earned her the title of Vice Chair of the RIM Confederacy Council.
Of course, the smaller attempt to gain the upper hand on the RIM Navy by getting Captain Scott to resign had worked, and he'd be the new man at the helm of the Barony's first Supra Destroyer—name yet unknown. A small price to pay, and she had to grudgingly acknowledge that her stepdaughter, Helena, had done a masterful job of getting that done.
She clicked a button on her PDA, and moments later, the help scurried off in search of that Riesling. She wondered about the best way to use her new captain. She knew the obvious chemistry between Helena and him could also be useful, and she wondered how to best capitalize on that too.
So much to plan and not enough wine ...
Prologue for Book Four
of the RIM Confederacy
…due out in the fall of 2015…
The animal moved slowly along the marshy ground, it's snout following the scent of it's prey but only barely. With its wet squishy steps as it's six legs slowly stepped on the fen, it made more noise as it hunted but that couldn't be helped here on Ghayth.
The planet itself was wet, foggy, misty and yes uninhabited by any kind of sentient being and all the creatures that did make the planet home lived a wet life.
It was thought that there were large oceans with many continents that covered the planet but more than that was really unknown as the planet had not been explored in a few hundred years. It had never had a colony on it either as the climate was a constant wet one. It rained more than 90% of the time. There was a lack of seasonal changes too as the planet was not off polar axis so it was offsetting to anyone who orbited the planet and took scans.
While the fact that the planet was uninhabited meant something to many types of explorers who may be looking for a new home or assets to take, this gray planet was just too much of a raw climate hence it's name which was not official but used by many to refer to the single fact that it was not worth the shuttle trip down. In fact the planet on all star maps had no name at all, it was simply called #4 around it's huge blue star.
It had sat as such for thousands of years and remained an empty planet.
Sniffing a side scent the animal stopped and looked to the left then the right.
As usual on Ghayth, visibility was reduced to less than a fifty yards and the scent was one of the animals usual meals, but it could not locate the spoor along the ground. Being less than three feet tall at the shoulder meant the hunter was unable to do more than raise it's head up as high as it could and the scent seemed a bit closer up there but it couldn't see anything but foggy mist. It moved along a few feet and then sniffed the ground and it couldn't find it's original quarry but that higher scent was just a bit stronger to the right so it veered slightly to that side.
Ahead about twenty feet, there was a largish dark shadow, the third he'd passed, where the oddly shaped foliage of some kind of a large overgrown plant was above the ground and the hunter moved slowly towards that darkness pausing to sniff every few feet. That above ground smell was a bit stronger every few feet and the hunter slowed his approach and tried to step more quietly.
Suddenly, there were three loud BEEPS and the hunter jumped in fear as the sound was unknown to it. Crouching, his four forearms all digging into the marshy ground, it's back an arch as it's two rear legs were ready to jump or leap or spin and run, the hunter's lips were curled up from its teeth and fangs as it reacted to the noise and the suddenly darker light.
Above it but still a few feet away, that overgrown plant slowly was sinking in place and it sank quietly with no noise except for the rustle of the vegetation that was hanging from it's full foliage above. It was a measured lowering of the plant in it's entirety and it touched the ground.
The hunter was long gone and only minutes later, the plant rose again to take the same position it had held for the next hundred years and the empty natural world around it went on…
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