So…who had been directing the attacking cruiser? And why?
In some ways, the “why” was simpler. Whoever controlled the Scandya system gained a strategic staging point and leverage. If the Revs controlled it, they nearly encircled the “lower” systems in the Argenti sphere. If the Argentis did, they had a straight jumpshot at two of the major Rev military missionary/staging bases. If the Keltyr gained control of Scandya, they’d have enough of a technological base to challenge Tara. The RSF was in a position where whatever it did in Scandya, it couldn’t gain—only lose. And that didn’t help.
Van continued reading for another half hour, when there was a discreet tap on his door.
“Yes?”
Sean Bulben opened the door and peered in. “Commander? You asked me to let you know when Dr. Gregory returned. She’s in her office now. It’s the one right off the ramp.”
“Thank you, Sean.”
As Hannigan had intimated, Cordelia Gregory had made a point of avoiding Van, and for several days, he had let her. Enough was enough, however. Van used his implant to flick off the console, then stood, making his way out through his empty outer office and into the main corridor. The second and third secretaries did not have outer offices or sitting rooms. So Van knocked on the door.
“Come in.” The woman’s voice was firm, resonant with only the slightest hint of the melodic.
He opened the door and stepped inside, bowing slightly as he did.
Dr. Cordelia Gregory was dark-haired, with pale white skin and deep, dark green eyes. Her lips and eyebrows were thin. She rose from behind her desk.
“Dr. Gregory, I’m Van Albert. Dr. Hannigan had indicated that it was likely we’d be working together, and I thought I should introduce myself. I’d left several messages, but it seemed as though we were always missing each other.”
“It is most likely that we will be working together.” Her words were polite, even, and without the slightest hint of warmth. “There is often a correlation between economic and military data and their implications.”
“I fear that you have far more experience in such correlations than do I.”
“That is to be expected. The RSF usually considers economic and social concerns as of far less import than military ones.”
“And the diplomatic corps is often known for the reverse,” Van pointed out. “Which might be why it would be advantageous to work together.” He wondered why she was clearly so hostile to him. He’d never even met the woman before.
“I’m certain that is what is expected, and I’ll offer any professional assistance you may find necessary, Commander.”
Van didn’t know what to say. He’d effectively been dismissed by someone subordinate to him, but he wasn’t in a military situation, and a quiet reminder or reprimand wasn’t appropriate. Yet, accepting such an attitude from the doctor wasn’t wise, either. “Without more than your passive assistance, Doctor, I doubt that we will meet anyone’s expectations, and that would not be advantageous for you, for me, or for the Republic.”
“I stand corrected, Commander.” Gregory’s tone was even more chill.
Van offered a smile, rueful and as warm as he could make it. “I wasn’t offering a correction, just an observation.” He paused. “I’m not a diplomat, trained in the observation of human nature to read entire motivations from subtle gestures. It’s clear even to me that either who or what I am displeases you. Yet, unless I’m hopelessly mistaken, we’ve never met.”
“You’re correct, Commander. We have not met.” Gregory offered a tight smile. “And I’m sorry to say that who and what you are is hard for me.”
“A commander in the RSF?”
“Not just a commander.”
“Then what?” Van could sense the tension in both her posture and her words.
“My older sister was on the Regneri.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I am most certain you are. At least, as sorry as any officer devoted to violence could be.”
What could he say to that? After a moment, he bowed his head slightly. “I also stopped eating babies a good twenty years ago, Doctor.”
Her face paled, and she stiffened.
Before she could speak, he added, softly. “I am sorry for your loss. I’m also sorry for all those who lost loved ones on the Regneri. No one could have predicted what happened, and nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a thousand, such a freakish event would not have occurred. That doesn’t make it any less painful for you, or your family. I am not sorry for those who died aboard the Vetachi, and, faced with that situation again, I would still have to try to stop the Vetachi. The renegades who commanded that ship had already killed over a thousand innocents on Freya and on Culain. They would have killed more, had I let them escape.”
“You’ve obviously rehearsed that answer.”
“No. I’ve thought about it, and for what it’s worth, I still have nightmares about it, Doctor. But you might recall that the Vetachi was effectively a cruiser, and I had a corvette, far smaller, with shields easily crushed by such a large ship in any protracted fight. Either way, the situation was far from optimal. I knew there was a good chance that my corvette might not survive, but I had to take that chance. That was what we were there for, although none of us on the Eochaid was undertaking a suicide mission. No one ever could have anticipated that a successful attack would release a torp that would home in on the Regneri. The Board of Inquiry established that such an event could and did happen only because of improper weapons control on the renegade, and even so, the odds of something like that happening were infinitesimal.”
“That’s the problem with force and violence, Commander.”
“I agree, Doctor. It is a
