faces were impassive. Michael knew Adrissa only by reputation: a straightforward, no-nonsense officer, unpopular with the brass for a tendency to speak her mind, competent, more respected than liked. The other two, Commander Georg Rasmussen, captain of the now-destroyed Yataghan, and Lieutenant Commander Pravar Solanki, captain of Dunxi, he knew only by name.
Adrissa looked him straight in the face for what seemed like a lifetime before speaking. 'So, Lieutenant,' she said at last, 'this is one hell of a situation you've dropped us into.'
Michael bobbed his head in apology. 'Yes, sir. It is.'
'We've read the brief you supplied us, and it's all very clear. The question is what we'-Adrissa waved a hand at Rasmussen and Solanki-'do next. The problem is that none of us have ever been in a situation like this. More to the point, we don't know anyone else in Fleet history who has, either.'
'No, sir.'
'So,' Adrissa said, 'we have no precedents to help us decide what we do next. Setting aside naked self-interest, that leaves us with two guides: Fleet Regulations and pragmatism. If we follow Fleet Regulations, it's clear what we should do: It is our duty as Fleet officers to have you'-her voice hardened noticeably-'arrested and court- martialed. At which point there is no doubt you'd be found guilty and sentenced to death. And since we're in the presence of the enemy, I'd be within the regulations to approve that sentence, and believe me, Lieutenant Helfort, I would have no compunction about having you shot, none at all, not after what you've done.'
'Yes, sir,' Michael said, wondering just how much worse his day could get.
'The problem with that strategy is that while there are what… let me see, yes, let's say sixty of you and over four hundred of us, you're the ones with the guns, and it hasn't escaped our notice that your marine friends have been slow to meet our requests for weapons.'
'I know that, sir,' Michael said, 'and I'm sorry, but we needed to see how things panned out.'
'Hmmm,' Adrissa said, 'we thought so. If we cannot enforce Fleet Regulations, that leaves us with pragmatism, and it's clear what it tells us to do. Ignore the mutiny, endorse your plan to join the NRA, fight alongside them, pray like hell the day isn't too far off when they push the whole rotten Hammer government into the sea, and then we get to go home. That about sum up your grand plan, Lieutenant?'
'Yes, sir,' Michael said, acutely aware how half-assed Adrissa made it all sound. Half-assed? Piss-weak more like it. 'That pretty much sums it up.' And that's because there's nothing more to add, he wanted to say but did not.
'Yes, it does. Not much of a plan, I have to say, though I admire, we all admire, what you've achieved so far. However misplaced your loyalties, Lieutenant, your Operation Gladiator will go down in the annals of warfare. If you ignore the costs, it is one of the most outstanding military operations of all time.'
'Thank you, sir.'
'Don't thank me,' Adrissa snapped. 'You made a bad decision-nothing will ever change that-and whatever your motives, they cannot vindicate what you have done. Never!'
Michael bit his tongue, choking back his response. He needed Adrissa on his side, and if that was too big an ask, neutral would do fine. 'No, sir,' he said.
'So here's the deal,' Adrissa went on, 'and it's the only deal I'm prepared to offer. Should any one of us ever find ourselves in a position where we can return you and your accomplices to the Federated Worlds for trial, we will arrest you. That's our duty and is nonnegotiable. However, until that time, we need to accept the realities of the situation we find ourselves in. So we will be telling our people that they are free to decide what to do next. The one thing they can't do is turn themselves back over to the Hammers. They can stay under my command doing whatever we'll be doing. Or they can join the NRA and Nationalists. It'll be their choice, and I won't seek to influence any of them one way or the other, nor, Lieutenant, will you. Is that understood?'
'Yes, sir,' Michael said, his spirits rising fast. He would take the threat of arrest-Adrissa's chances of making good on the threat were minimal, to say the least-over outright opposition any day. 'That's understood.'
'Good. Now that the formalities are out of the way, there are a couple of things I'd like to say.'
'Yes, sir?'
'Yes. First, I meant what I said about Gladiator. I don't think I've ever seen anything like it.'
'It was a team effort, sir. They're good people: smart, sharp, motivated.'
'Indeed,' Adrissa said with a faint smile, 'though you left out 'misguided.' But I digress. Second, we've watched the vidmail sent to you by… what was his name?'
'Hartspring, sir. Colonel Erwin Hartspring. Doctrinal Security. Nasty piece of work.'
'Yes, him. A lowlife piece of shit if ever I saw one. I can't begin to understand how you kept going with that hanging over you, and while I can never condone your actions, I can at least say that I sympathize. It is not a predicament I ever want to find myself in. Finally, your people. I can understand their feelings, and though it would be most unwise of me to say so publicly, I must say that I share many of their concerns about the conduct of this war.'
'So do I,' Rasmussen cut in, the bitterness obvious. 'Yataghan was a good ship. She died for no good reason, and so did far too many of my crew.'
'And me,' Solanki added. 'Dunxi carried a crew of one hundred ninety-eight. Only thirty-six made it to the lifepods, and two of them died during interrogation. Bastard Hammers, bastard Fleet, bastard politi-'
'Enough,' Adrissa snapped. 'Enough, Commander,' she continued, her voice softening. 'Don't say things you may regret. You'll get your chance, I promise you.'
Solanki nodded, though Michael saw the anger burning ice-cold in his eyes.
'One last thing,' Adrissa said. 'You may be mutineers, but the rest of us are not. So, effective immediately, I'm ordering the establishment of Fleet Detachment, Commitment Planet. Um, let's see… yes, let's call it FLTDETCOMM for short, shall we? I think it will be a good thing if you and your people agreed to be part of the detachment under my command. What the detachment's mission will be is something I'll leave for another day. You happy about that?'
Michael needed only a moment to think the proposition through. 'Yes, sir, very,' he said, feeling like a massive load had been taken off his shoulders.
'Good. The fact that you and your people agreed to come back into the chain of command will help in mitigation if we ever get to that point. Well, I think we're done here. No, wait, one more thing.'
'Sir?'
'Do you trust me, Helfort?'
'Yes, sir. Of course.'
'Good, because the first order I'm going to give is that you issue all of my people with weapons. I'll be damned if I let them sit, surrounded by Hammers, armed only with sticks.'
Michael's heart skipped a beat; if Adrissa was not the woman he thought she was, he would be dead before the week was out. 'Er, yes, sir,' he said, swallowing hard. 'I'll get onto it right away.'
'Good. Now, since this is your setup, I'm happy to take your advice. What's next?'
'Well, sir. I've sent a message to the NRA's head man-his name is Mutti Vaas-outlining what we were doing and why. I've asked him to send us someone to take us to his headquarters. Once we're there, we'll make our case. Beyond that, who knows, but we think he'll be receptive to our offer of assistance.'
'We do, too, Lieutenant. He'd be mad to turn you down. Any idea when they might-'
A tap on the door interrupted Adrissa. 'Yes, come in.'
It was Ferreira. Licking her lips nervously at the sight of the assembled brass, she turned to Michael. 'Sir, we've had-'
Michael lifted his hand to cut her off. 'Jayla. Captain Adrissa is the senior officer present. Make your report to her, please.'
'Oh, right,' Ferreira said, her confusion obvious. She turned to Adrissa. 'Sorry, sir,' she mumbled.
'Don't worry about it. You were saying?'
'Umm, yes. Lieutenant Kallewi says there is an NRA patrol on its way in and can you… er, can Lieutenant Helfort please come to meet them. Kallewi's taking them to Hell Bent.'
'Okay. Michael… may I call you Michael?
'Yes, sir, please,' Michael said, reddening, embarrassed by Adrissa's sudden thaw.
'The NRA, eh? Well, that was prompt.'
'Yes, sir. It was. Their communications must be good, and obviously they had a patrol nearby.'
