He answered, and on the sleeve display saw the face of Warrant Officer Roh, who had been left in charge ofCorona while his superiors were roistering in the wardroom.
“Message for you, my lord. It’s just been deciphered.”
“Transmit, then.”
A look of caution entered Roh’s eyes. “Perhaps you might want to receive this in private, lord elcap. It’s personal to you, from the Fleet Control Board.”
Martinez excused himself from the wardroom and stepped into the corridor outside. “Go ahead and transmit, Roh,” he said.
The message, from the secretary of the Control Board, was brief and to the point. In his musical Cree voice the secretary informed him that the board had decided, on receipt of Lieutenant Captain Martinez’s last communication, that Light Squadron Fourteen should from receipt of this message be placed under the command of its senior officer, Lieutenant Captain Kamarullah.
A burble of astounded laughter escaped Martinez’s lips. He was far too astonished to feel resentment at this outrageous usurpation.They’re going to really feel silly when they hear about what just happened here, he thought. He wondered if they would change their minds.
No. Of course they wouldn’t. They’d never admit they’d made an error in judgment.
And in any case the order needed to be obeyed. “Message, personal to Captain Kamarullah,” Martinez dictated, and tried to suppress any sign of inebriation as he spoke into the silver button-camera on his cuff.
“Orders have just come from the Fleet Control Board placing you in command of Squadron Fourteen. Naturally I will endeavor to comply with any instructions you see fit to issue toCorona . I will immediately inform the other ships of…” He hesitated, having almost saidmy command. “Of the squadron,” he finished. “Message ends.”
He had the message sent, and spent a few moments assembling the words he would use to his other captains.
“My lords,” he transmitted finally, “I must inform you that the Fleet Control Board has decided to place the squadron under the command of Captain Kamarullah. It has been a privilege to command Light Squadron Fourteen during the last month, and to have led you in an engagement which has done great service to the empire. I believe we may view our accomplishments with great satisfaction. I will be honored to serve alongside you under Captain Kamarullah’s command, and I hope that in the future we may score an even greater success against the enemy.”
Not that this was very likely under Kamarullah, Martinez thought, but the sentiment seemed worth expressing. He sent the message, and then paused for a moment outside the wardroom door, as he considered the new dynamics of the squadron.
Kamarullah’s wish had been granted, and he now was in command. But Martinez, his rival, had just won a bloodless victory over the enemy, and more than justified the confidence that Do-faq had placed in him. He’d brought all his captains through the fight without harm, and earned their trust. He could expect decorations and possible promotion, and Kamarullah could not. Kamarullah had just replaced a man who had made history, a commander who had won a great victory and who had earned fame and the thanks of the empire. Kamarullah’s victory could only turn to bitter ashes in his mouth.
The Fleet Control Board had just made Kamarullah an object of ridicule.
Cheered by this thought, Martinez returned to the wardroom, and accepted Dalkeith’s offer of another glass of wine.
The lord secretary of the Fleet Control Board was a Cree, and he spoke in rounded musical tones like the chuckling of a spring.
“…I call to Your Lordships’ attention,” he read, “Lieutenant Captain Lord Gareth Martinez, commander of Light Squadron Fourteen, who as the first squadron commander on the scene developed the plan of battle which his squadron and mine together followed. I earnestly hope that Your Lordships will consider Lord Gareth worthy of promotion or some other distinction.
“I also call to Your Lordships’ notice the following officers, whose service has been exemplary, and whose contribution to the victory at Hone-bar was by no means negligible…”
Lord Chen listened to the list of names as relief sighed through his bones. Captain Martinez had achieved distinction in the action at Hone-bar, something that would make Lord Chen’s own dealings with Lord Roland Martinez less open to question. In addition to securing the victory, Martinez had saved theClan Chen, which made Chen’s pocketbook less empty and his sense of gratitude more personal.
“Your Lordships’ most recent instructions,” the lord secretary continued, “required me to leave two ships at Hone-bar in order to secure the system and the Hone Reach. As the recent victory has lessened the threat to Hone-bar, I hope my decision to leave only theJudge Qel-fan will meet with Your Lordships’ approval. I will bring the rest of my ships to Zanshaa at the most expeditious possible speed.”
Lord Chen suppressed a smile. In fact the board’s instructions in regard to the defense of Hone-bar had been erratic, and tended to change from moment to moment depending on the persuasive power of those members with interests in the Hone Reach. From one day to the next Do-faq had been ordered to defend Hone-bar with his entire command, with his squadron alone, with a single four-ship division, and with a number of ships ranging from one to five. No wonder Do-faq had decided to take matters into his own decisive hands.
The lord secretary’s voice burbled on.
“I regret to report that I have ordered Captain Dix of the Investigative Service to inquire into the breakdown in communication that permitted the Naxids to surprise us at Hone-bar. Wormhole stations should have observed the approach of the rebels many days in advance, and though the captain of Hone-bar’s ring attempted to pass off the breakdown as the fault of a negligent tech, the explanation defies reason, and an investigation should be undertaken if only to clear those officers now under suspicion. I trust that this order meets with Your Lordships’ approval.
“In the eternal light of the Praxis, I remain…Lord Pa Do-faq, Squadron Commander, etc.”
The lord secretary looked up from his reader. “Shall I repeat any of the message, my lords?”
“That will not be necessary,” Tork said, answering for them all. His round eyes, mournful in his pale, fixed face, gazed around the broad table. “I am sure we are all aware of how this victory lessens our anxieties. I suggest that the lord secretary be ordered to write a congratulatory reply to the lord squadron commander, and that we all append our signatures.”
There was a murmur of assent. The lord secretary glanced down at his display and got busy with his stylus.
Lady San-torath, who represented Hone-bar in convocation, spoke first. “I’m delighted to congratulate Do-faq on his victory, but I wonder if he’s not gone too far ordering an investigation of what seems to be a simple communications error. Hasn’t the squadcom exceeded his authority?”
By which Lord Chen knew that the lapse hadn’t been a communications error at all. Hone-bar understood its own strategic importance as well as its own vulnerability, and probably at least some members of the elite were aware of the scale of the defeat at Magaria. They had seen the Naxid fleet coming, and had been prepared to make their own peace with the rebels.
Unfortunately the conspirators hadn’t been able to count. They’d known that Faqforce was on its way, and should have known that Faqforce outnumbered the Naxids. That they hadn’t cooperated with Do-faq, who after all had the greatest number of missile launchers, did not speak well for their intelligence.
Chen wondered how much Lady San-torath knew of Hone-bar’s plans. Enough at least to know that she might be compromised by any investigation.
“Better the Investigative Service,” said Lord Pezzini, “than the Legion of Diligence.”
There followed a significant silence that allowed Pezzini’s audience to shudder. Neither the IS nor the legion were infallible, but the legion’s mistakes tended to be a lot more lethal, as were, for that matter, its triumphs.
Pezzini was telling Lady San-torath to shut up and hope for the best. Nictating membranes deployed over her orange eyes, and she fell silent. Chen wondered how much Pezzini knew. Possibly a great deal, since Pezzini’s interests also lay in the Hone Reach.
“Should we not send a congratulatory message to Captain Martinez as well?” asked Lord Convocate Mondi. “He was at least technically in independent command.” Lord Mondi’s diction was very precise, without the lisp
