adequate security to prevent escape or subornation of Fleet personnel.
“Paragraph Three. In the interests of good order and discipline, you will announce that Rear Admiral Jonas relieved himself as COMRIMSEC due to ill health.
“Paragraph Four. Upon arrival of the JAG Investigating team now enroute, you will support and assist the investigating team in any way requested, to include facilities, support, and ensuring the presence of Fleet personnel for questioning or testimony. End message.”
Finally, the stony expression relaxed, and the formal tone dissolved. “Begin message four. From Vinlen Chu- Lo, Fleet Admiral, Imperial Fleet to Jamin Van-Lyn, Captain, Imperial Fleet. Unofficial. Unclassified.”
“Jamin, I’m sorry to put you in this position, but Jonas has really stepped on it this time. Don’t take any guff from him; the authority is yours now. A word of warning: he’s loathsome, but he’s shrewd. He knows that his family can’t get him off this time, so he may try something desperate. Be on your guard. End message.” This time the image faded, and Cord reappeared.
“These messages were received about three months ago,” he said. “Obviously, Jonas is not under arrest. Evidently, they were too late; Jonas had already subverted Van-Lyn.
“But those messages,” he continued, his tone cold, “show where the Fleet stands. I hope that you and your people are reassured. And certainly, for what it’s worth, I offer my word that all Fleet personnel who so desire will be repatriated.”
Suddenly, Cord sat forward in his chair, anger suffusing his face. “I also want you to know that I am appalled! I find it difficult to believe that Fleet personnel would even for a microsecond believe that Fleet HQ, or me, or the Emperor himself, would violate a thousand-year-old tradition. Every one of you learned in boot camp or Officer Candidate School the basic tenet that everyone in the Fleet buys a round-trip ticket. Ships have been lost and people have died trying to bring home Fleet people or their bodies.”
He slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. “How dare you? How dare you believe that the Emperor or I would try such a thing, or that Fleet Admiral Chu-Lo would permit it? The entire Fleet would rebel first! So, I give you your assurances, but I'm ashamed of you for asking for them.” He glared at the three officers who by now were at rigid attention. “By the authority vested in me as Sector Viceroy, I now assume authority over all Fleet vessels, equipment, and personnel under your commands. You will place yourselves under the command of Commodore Val Kedron, and you will disregard any communication from the former Commander, Rim Sector, Micah Jonas, or his minions. The recording of this meeting is to be shown to all Fleet personnel presently in Predator. Is that specific enough for you, gentlemen?”
“AYE, AYE, SIR!” The roar would have done credit to recruits in boot camp, but it came from three company-grade officers frozen like cadets.
Cord nodded, his face still grim. “Very well, gentlemen. You are dismissed. Mr. Tan-Li, would you remain a moment, please?”
Bendo and Tor wheeled and marched out, ramrod straight. Shar remained at attention.
As the hatch closed, Cord's image relaxed. “Mr. Tan-Li, I’m well aware that you are retired. While I have the authority to activate your commission, I do not intend to do so without your consent. I hope that you will join us as the Commodore’s deputy and Flag Captain. It’s tempting to assume that your appearance in uniform implies a wish to volunteer, but I must also consider that it may have been a ruse necessary to escape from Thaeron. So, I ask you; do I have your permission to activate your commission and promote you to Captain, so that you can serve with us?”
Shar was still at attention. “Sir, it would be my honor and pleasure to serve in the positions you mentioned, or any other in your service.” The heartfelt sincerity in his tone spoke volumes. Sharlo Tan-Li had met a man he respected.
Cord nodded. “Thank you, Captain. I’m sure we'll speak again. For now, though, will you excuse us? I have some things to discuss with the Commodore.”
Shar snapped Cord a smart salute, wheeled, and marched out.
Cord sighed and settled back into his chair. “You were pretty rough…” I began.
Cord shook his head. “You don’t understand, Commodore. Those people risked everything to escape Thaeron. However, ever since the adrenaline wore off, everyone on that ship has been second-guessing himself or herself, worrying themselves and their shipmates with doubts. Did they really do the right thing? Or have they become involved in a mutiny? They needed a kick in the pants; a reminder of who and what they are.
“If I’d pampered them, you’d have had a ship with a demoralized crew, and a bunch of incompetent marines. However, I’ve stung them. I’ve reminded them. Now, they’ll be aching for the chance to show me that I was wrong about them. You have a ship full of motivated, competent people instead of emotional cripples. You’ll see. We’ll have their respect, now.”
I shrugged. “You may be right…”
Cord waved a hand. “I am right, Commodore. Military people are easy to deal with. For the most part, they’re honest and straightforward. You should try to deal with politicians regularly.”
I shuddered. “No, thanks, sir. Uh, tell me, sir, did you really remember Shar, or did you just look him up for this meeting?”
Cord shook his head. “You disappoint me, Commodore. You’re always thinking the worst of me. Of course I remembered Commander Tan-Li. One meets very few genuine heroes at court; I’d scarcely forget one of the two real ones I’ve met.”
Two? I was afraid to ask. It was time to get down to business anyway. “Uh, you know that Predator has created a problem for us?”
Cord nodded. “I know. They’ve forced Jonas’ hand, and ours, as well. He can no longer pretend that everything is normal on Thaeron, and I can no longer pretend to believe that. We’re both being forced into a fight for which neither of us is prepared.”
For nearly an hour, Cord and I considered and rejected a dozen possible actions. Finally, reluctantly, we concluded that we had only one choice. “I have to go to Thaeron after all.” I said reluctantly.
It was almost two hours later that I finally emerged from the yacht’s comm room while the subspace operators transferred images of Bendo and Tor’s service records. But, we had a plan. Not a good one, but a plan, nevertheless. Cord would be risking his expensive yacht and a detachment of marines. I would be risking confinement or death.
He was right about the Fleet people aboard Predator, though. Both Bendo and Tor spoke of him in admiring tones, and were determined to show him how good they really were. When Tor asked for volunteers to form a commando for the marines’ part in the plan, every man in his company volunteered. He selected the best twenty, and I heard that there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth when the names were announced.
A review of their records pretty much confirmed my original impressions of our two newest recruits. Bendo was one of those people with the annoying ability to excel at everything he tried. Evaluations and incident reports showed him to be imaginative and highly efficient. Despite this, he seemed to relate well to others, and was respected and well liked by superiors, contemporaries and subordinates. Obviously, flag material.
Tor was also what he appeared to be: a career marine whose ambitions didn’t include a flag, because to strive for flag rank, he’d have to leave his beloved marines. A dedicated and highly effective field commander, he showed an intuitive grasp of strategic and tactical concepts. He’d also shown in battle that while he respected Standard Operating Procedures, he was imaginative and resourceful enough to scrap them when they didn’t apply, and try new ones. Tor was what I’d been looking for — someone who could coordinate and command our ground- based resistance efforts.
For my part, I had to pin two more stars on each shoulder. Cord had decided that for this to work, I had to outrank Jonas. So now, I was Vice Admiral Val Kedron. I was certainly going up the ladder fast, I reflected. I was embarrassed rather than pleased, though. I'd earned none of the promotions.
Few people would have noticed anyway. I was spending all of my time on Cord’s yacht, the Rimrunner. A computer expert was making programming modifications and introducing me to the yacht’s artificial intelligence. The AI that ran the yacht was the most advanced I’d ever encountered; sometimes it seemed to border on sentience. Cord evidently felt the same way, since he’d given it a female voice and a name, Kaleen.
Introducing me to Kaleen involved more than a handshake. It took major programming and a lot of patience to add me to the people to whom she was loyal (making a total of two). She also had to be programmed to fulfill her end of the plan. Kaleen was a major, if not the major player in the plan.
