House of Reeds

done!

Hadeishi started to laugh, relieved, then coughed, feeling his chest constrict. 'Ah, that hurts!'

On his plot, the ident codes of a cloud of destroyers, cruisers and battlecruisers began to firm up. The mass of dreadnaughts, fleet tenders and troop ships in the middle of the globe were still indistinct behind a screen of countermeasures, but the Chu-sa could tell the Flingers-of-Stone had dropped into the system 'hot' and ready for battle.

The jarring realization reminded him of the Flower Priests and their plot. Villeneuve knew. He knew and his operations officer knew. His fingers curled into a tight claw on the armrest. They left us here to be expendable. So they could return – at a pre-planned time, or summoned by a relay drone waiting at the transit limit – just in time to rescue the situation on the planet. And be welcomed as heroes.

The muscle in the side of his neck spasmed and both of the ratings on the bridge looked away, purely terrified by the expression on Hadeishi's face.

Shuttle three drifted across the starboard ventral drive cowling of the Cornuelle, maneuvering to mate hatch with the access door beside boat bay two. In the boat's airlock, Sho- sa Kosho watched the cruiser glide past, face impassive, teeth clenched tight.

She looks horrible, Susan thought. The outer hull of the light cruiser was ripped and shattered, huge gouges torn from the shipskin, revealing tangled metal and ruptured compartments. Debris tinged and clanged from the shuttle, sending a queer ringing noise through the cargo compartment. The Sho- sa clicked her teeth.

'Kosho to the Cornuelle, come in please. Anyone? Come in.'

There was a sputtering echo of static. Then a voice made itself recognizable out of the distortion. Sho-sa Kosho? Is that you? This is Yoyontzin in Engineering! Are you outside the hull?

'I'm here with shuttle three,' she replied, wondering how bad things were aboard if an engineer-second was running communications. 'Are the boat bay doors working?'

No, kyo. Nearly everything is dead. We've got a system infection. We do have power in the mains, but the Chu-sa says the weapons arrays and tracking are malfunctioning, so shipskin and most systems are unpowered for safety.

'I see.' Susan turned to look at Felix and Helsdon, who were standing behind her. The cargo bay itself was crowded with the enormous shape of a reinforced cargo bladder. Water shimmered inside the translucent plastic, gently sloshing from side to side. 'We're not going to be unloading today,' she declared, 'but I'm going across. Helsdon, do you feel well enough to come with me? Isoroku could use your help on damage control.'

'Of course, kyo.' Helsdon's z-suit and gear were charred and still marked with soot, but he had managed the shuttle flight up from Parus. 'With this much damage, the Thai-i will need another six pairs of hands.'

Susan nodded. 'Heicho, with power down and the ship chewed to ribbons, we're not finding any medical attention for the wounded here. Take this shuttle back and shift everyone to the cantonment. Regimental medical can take care of them. Just make sure no one steals their boots. Understood?'

'Hai, kyo.' The Marine nodded dully. She was exhausted and her armor was glassy with heat damage and scored with bullet splashes and bright, metallic scars made by Jehanan sword blades.

The shuttle glided to a halt and a green light winked on over the airlock.

Sho-sa? The pilot's voice was tentative. We're at the boat bay airlock…but it looks terrible out there! Are you sure you want -

Kosho thumbed the access panel and the inner door cycled open. 'Going EVA now. Stand by until I'm inside. I'll comm you.'

Helsdon followed, the remains of his toolkit slung over his shoulder and a package of scavenged comps in his hand. The lock doors irised closed behind them. Felix turned away, yawning, and went to find a place to catch a nap while the shuttle was downbound.

'Do we have tightbeam to the flagship?' Hadeishi slumped in his command chair, only barely illuminated by the emergency lights on the secondary overhead.

'Yes, sir.' The midshipman tapped the ident code and recog passwords for a secure channel. 'We're getting the response carrier wave…hello, Cornuelle calling the Tehuia, come in please.' Two-Dog paused, listening. 'I have a command priority call from Chu-sa Hadeishi, commanding the Cornuelle, for Admiral Villeneuve. Yes, it is urgent.'

The acting communications officer turned to look at her captain. 'They say only the Admiral's aide is available right now…'

'Put him on.' Hadeishi's voice was cold and even.

Two-Dog keyed the transmission relay to the command chair. Hadeishi heard one of his comm threads warble to life. A v-pane unfolded on his console, showing Flag Captain Plamondon's broad, bearded face. The Novo French officer looked haggard and out-of-sorts.

Hadeishi! We've been calling you for at least an hour! What's your status? Long-range scan shows signs of fighting on the planet and wreckage in orbit. The officer's voice was tinged with panic. What the devil is happening down there?

'Put me through to Villeneuve,' the Chu-sa said flatly. 'Immediately.'

Plamondon drew back at the harsh tone. Are you well, Chu-sa ? This v- feed is quite poor, but I don't believe you're on the command deck of an Astronomer - class cruiser…

'I have no time for you, Plamondon. Put me through to the admiral.'

Watch your tongue, Hadeishi! The flag officer looked off screen for a moment. Sweat beaded along his collar and hairline. Has your ship been attacked? Are you injured? What happened to the freighters in orbit? Do you need combat support?

'My ship has been severely damaged,' the Chu-sa snarled, rising up. His mutilated face came into clearer view on the v-feed pickup and the Frenchman recoiled. 'My crew slaughtered, hundreds of common spacers murdered on two independent freighters and perhaps thousands of Imperial citizens killed, wounded or driven into flight on the planet below. Now put the admiral on the comm!'

Plamondon blanched momentarily, but then he rallied, outraged by the hectoring tone in the junior officer's voice. You do not demand things of the admiral! You will calm down and deliver a proper status report, Chu-sa, or you will be relieved of command!

'Will I?' Hadeishi started to laugh, making a horrible croaking sound. 'My ship is crippled, Frenchman. There's been a full-scale revolt on the planet and I doubt the Army will give you a polite greeting either! Now, put Villeneuve on the channel and he can explain to me, face to face, why seventy of my crew died for no reason at all! Why you abandoned us here with a ship in desperate need of repair to jaunt off to a planet where I'm sure there was exactly nothing going on, until you were told to return!'

Told? That's a lie - The flag captain's voice chilled. You are making accusations -

'I am,' Hadeishi interrupted, voice rising steadily. 'One of those freighters was a Xochiyaotinime covert operations ship – this entire war was a flowery excuse for certain officers to be promoted and get good marks on their combat record for bravery and expedient dispatch of the enemy! A safe way to move up!'

Plamondon turned a sickly shade of parchment white. That is insane! What are you implying? We've no knowledge of -

Hadeishi stabbed his hand off-screen, pointing out to spinward, beyond the indisinict frontier of the Empire. 'If your curst admiral wants battle, he should go hunting Khaid or Megair in the empty systems beyond the Rim! Then he can see how real battle feels! Then he can watch the dead pile up in Medical, hanging in the hallways like sides of rotted beef! Then he can buy his precious medals with honest bl -'

A slim hand, still gloved in the matte black of a Fleet z-suit, slashed down on the Chu- sa's panel, severing the connection.

'What?' Hadeishi blinked away tears, trying to force himself up from the chair. Another hand pressed into his chest, holding him prisoner. 'Why did you do that?'