Starhold (31 page)

Schooler was still unsure. “But what about future elections? What’s going to stop the corporate leaders from basically buying candidates, just like they have in the past?”

Darracott started to answer, but Hinojosa jumped in. “The Directorate could control the timing of the elections. We pick the best situations for our candidate to be successful and back them with all the support they need.”

“Very good, General. You learn fast,” said Darracott with a grin and a wink Hinojosa’s way.

Treasury Minister Trenner spoke up like a man who had made up his mind. “I think this would appease many of our powerful corporate partners. They want stability for trade and commerce, and I know many of them have a favorable opinion of the First Consul.”

“Agreed,” added Boucher.

“The Union Army will accept this as well,” declared General Stavrianos.

As with most things, it all came down to the space force. Maxon turned to Schooler. “Jon, what do you think?”

Schooler stroked his white beard. “The flag officers like you, Ms. Darracott. Your decisiveness in the period following the assassination has impressed people. Many in the space force reason that if Victor Polanco liked you, you must be all right.” Suddenly concerned that he had committed a faux pas, Schooler added, “Liked you as Prime Minister, I mean.”

“I know what you meant, Admiral,” she smiled, trying to set him at ease.

Maxon looked over to Carson, who nodded his endorsement.

“Excellent,” said Maxon, looking very pleased with things. “It seems that settles it.”

“Before it’s settled, Channa, I want to make something clear,” said Darracott. “If I’m the leader, we do things my way. I’ll support the military, but if push comes to shove with the corporations, I need the military to have my back. Agreed?”

Jon Schooler was the first to speak up. “Agreed. Most of the enlisted folks in the military come from the working classes. They have no particular love for the rich and powerful.”

Darracott eyed Schooler. She wondered if someone should explain to him that in most circles, space force admirals were also considered rich and powerful.

“And the officer corps? Can I count on them as well?”

“You certainly can,” answered Maxon with conviction. She held her glass high in a toast and the others followed suit. “To the First Consul.”

“Thank you, thank you all. I truly appreciate your confidence in me,” Darracott said. “And if you’ll permit me, I’d like to make some appointments while I have you all together.

“I don’t mean to be pushy, but there are some positions which must be filled immediately,” stated the Union leader. “One is the Home Ministry. Gil, would you consider moving from Treasury to take the reins at the Ministry of Home Affairs?”

Trenner was taken aback. “Well, if you think…”

“I do. We need to get our constabulary back up and running and we need to retool State Security. We also need to appoint a new chief of the SSB. Oh, and by the way, you just inherited the task of organizing an election on the Six Worlds within two months.

“Admiral Schooler,” the First Consul pushed on, “I’m transferring you to the Artemis system to take command of First Fleet.” There was a sudden hush in the room. People were trying to decide if she was serious or not.

“Ma’am?” questioned a surprised Schooler. “But, Channa…”

Darracott turned to the woman sitting next to her. “With the retirement of Admiral Sanchez, we need a new CSO. Admiral Maxon, you are hereby relieved of command of First Fleet and appointed to the position of Chief of Space Operations. You are also promoted to the rank of Fleet Admiral.”

“But, First Consul,” said a stunned Maxon, “there’s no such rank as Fleet Admiral.”

“There is now,” declared Darracott, turning to the room. “Fleet Admiral Maxon will command the space force and Field Marshal Stavrianos will be in charge of the army.”

Stavrianos almost choked on his wine as the others gasped in delight. No one had held the rank of Field Marshal in the Union Army for over a century. Helen Amesbury applauded with glee.

“I know some of you may be surprised by my taking change so aggressively,” Darracott said, “but we need to move on some things, and move swiftly. In terms of the military, I don’t want any confusion as to the chain of command.”

Another forty-five minutes went by with discussion of appointments and policy. Eventually, the meeting wound down and everyone had departed except the First Consul and Fleet Admiral Maxon.

“Channa, you must be exhausted,” said Darracott as she downed her second martini. “It was inconsiderate of me to keep you here this long.”

Maxon laughed. “Convalescence is boring. You cheered me up considerably with your performance today.”

“Too much too soon?”

“Not really. We both loved Victor, but we also both know he could be a little laid-back at times. It was good for everybody to get a kick in the ass. Oh, Gods, did you catch the expression on Helen Amesbury’s face when you told her she was headed back to the Threnn homeworld? It was priceless.”

The two of them snickered. Amesbury was an excellent diplomat, but she could also be more than a little arrogant at times.

“One question,” said Darracott. “Leo told me you lobbied for me to have this position. May I ask why? Was it because of Victor?”

Maxon looked thoughtful as she considered her response. “Victor Polanco was an inspiring leader and a good politician. A year and a half ago, he was the right person to lead this starhold, but obviously things have changed. Right now, we don’t need a good politician—we need a great one. We need someone who knows when it’s time to play the political game and when it’s time to bust heads. We need a person who’s not afraid to make enemies and smart enough to survive the enemies she makes. I was looking for someone with both brains and balls, and that was you.

“Rennie, about the Directorate, you do realize they all think they can control you.”

A mischievous look came over the Union leader’s face. “I was counting on it. Otherwise, they would have never given me the job.”

Maxon maintained her grave expression. “Seriously, watch your ass. They’re a pack of jackals. I lost Victor and I lost…” her voice trailed off just as Darracott was sure she was going to say Choi. “I wouldn’t want to lose you too,” finished the admiral.

“You won’t. Growing up, I endured the arctic wastelands of Odessa. If I could survive that, I can survive the Directorate.”

“One more thing,” said Maxon, “as long as I’m in command of the space force, the space force is yours. If push ever comes to shove, and it’s you against them, you can tell the Directorate to go screw themselves because you’ll have starships and Marines at your back. Agreed?”

Darracott didn’t say anything, simply nodding. So this was the kind of power Victor Polanco commanded. Maxon was giving her the keys to the kingdom, and despite Darracott’s thirst for power, she suddenly felt overwhelmed.

“Then it’s a deal,” said Maxon, extending her hand.

As Darracott shook the fleet admiral’s hand, she noticed the time on a nearby clock. “Let’s get you back to your room, you must be tired.”

“Actually, I’m headed to the space force shuttlebay. The docs have ordered me to take some dirtside R&R, so I’m going to a vacation house on Wallenquist Bay for a week. Why don’t you come with me? There’s plenty of room and I’d enjoy the company. It would be good for both of us.”

“Oh, Gods, I’d love to, but I can’t take a week off right now. I have a government to patch up and an election campaign to organize. And then there’s Earth—we should be getting word about what’s happened there soon.”

“Well, what about the weekend?” Maxon suggested. “Two days—surely you can spare two days. Besides, you could use some rest yourself.”

Two days of rest. When was the last time she’d had two days rest? The fact that she couldn’t remember was a compelling case to accept the offer.

“Okay, but just two days.”

“Wonderful! Although, if we really wanted rest, we would follow Leo’s lead and just retire.”

Darracott’s thoughts turned back to Leo Sanchez.
You wanted change my friend—well here it comes, but we have to do it my way. This will only work if we do it from the inside out.

32: Aftermath

Union cruiser Tempest

In Earth orbit

Five days had passed since the First Battle of Earth, as historians would eventually refer to it. The ceasefire was holding and then some. The Rhuzaris had been impressed with the rescue of their spacers who were forced to abandon
Imperial Wrath.
Their people would have been incinerated in Earth’s atmosphere if the surviving Union vessels hadn’t moved to retrieve the life pods. In gratitude, Rhuzari forces had been providing Pettigrew’s people with supplies and raw materials in order to implement repairs. The new Rhuzari commander, Fleetmaster Balasi, had been a cooperative if not charming host.

“I see some more empty beds in here,” said Captain Pettigrew as he and XO Adams entered
Tempest’s
sickbay. The ship had been fortunate during the conflict, sustaining only light casualties. As he glanced around the compartment, Pettigrew noticed another vacancy had occurred since his visit yesterday. “Doc, where’s Ensign Naseer?”

“Back on duty,” replied Chief Hospital Corpsman Jabrille Robinson. “That gets us down to seven. In a few days, you’ll have your whole crew back.”

“Not quite,” said Pettigrew in a low voice, staring across the compartment. “How’s he doing?”

Robinson shook his head. “Same as yesterday, and the day before. He’s in and out, mostly out. He spends a lot of the time just staring at the ceiling.”

“Is he talking?” asked Adams.

“He mumbles to himself sometimes. Captain, I’ve done all I can do for him here. We’ve cleaned the pills out of his system, but he needs more…specialized care.” Robinson didn’t have to say psychiatric care for his superiors to take his meaning.

Parker Knox had ingested a bottle of sleeping pills while confined to quarters during the battle. Sargent Hiteshaw recognized what had happened when he checked on Knox, and the Marine guards rushed him to sickbay for treatment. Later, a note was found on his datapad that simply read ‘When I take the pills, I don’t have the nightmares.’

“Sir, I recommend that Commander Knox be transported back to the Hybrias system on
Goshawk
when she departs,” Robinson advised. As soon as the destroyer was adequately repaired, Pettigrew was sending it back to Union space, taking the most seriously injured personnel with it. “And for his own good, I think he should make the trip in hypersleep.”

Pettigrew continued to look at Knox, who didn’t move and hardly even blinked his eyes. He just lay in his bed and stared upward. Anyone who didn’t know better might have thought he was a corpse
. Maybe he is…
thought Pettigrew.

“You’re the expert Doc, whatever you recommend. Commander Adams, make the arrangements.”

“Yes, sir,” Adams said, cupping her hand over an earpiece. “Captain, Shuttle One is approaching, and you said you wanted to be on hand to greet our guests.”

As they walked to the shuttlebay, the two found themselves discussing Knox.

“As much as he infuriated me, I actually do feel sorry for Mr. Knox,” said Adams. “He must have been under enormous pressure from his mother as a youngster. It has to be hard growing up in the shadow of a hero.”

Pettigrew stopped and took her aside in one of the passageways. “Taylin, have you ever heard of Weston Knox?”

She thought carefully. “No, not before meeting Commander Knox.”

“Right. Don’t you think that’s odd? You graduated from Acworth, and in all your years of study there, did anyone ever bring up this great hero of the Union?”

“Now that you mention it…”

“I did a little digging in the databases,” Pettigrew said as he lowered his voice and nodded to a pair of passing crewmembers. “It’s true that Weston Knox was an officer in the Union Space Force and that he served during the Settlement Wars—but he was a lieutenant on a light cruiser. As far as I can find, Park’s father was never a ship captain and never got close to the Dijana Campaign, or any other fighting for that matter.”

Adams stared at her commanding officer. “He made it all up?”

“I don’t think Park did,” said Pettigrew. “His father probably did, sending home embellished tales from space. Or maybe it was his mother, trying to make her son proud of the Old Man. Either way, I’d bet that deep down inside the Commander actually knew it was all lies.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to know. Or, maybe he knew and just continued lying to himself.”

“Maybe,” said Pettigrew. “I’m just hoping he can dodge a court-martial on medical grounds. Then, maybe he can get some help to find peace and get on with his life.” He paused as another of the crew walked by. “I just can’t shake the feeling that I failed him as his commanding officer, and that maybe in some way, we all did. Frankly, the entire space force failed him. There was no way he should have been promoted to this position in the first place. Classic institutional behavior—if there’s a problem, pass it on.”

Adams wanted to argue that Charles Pettigrew had not failed Knox, but she knew it would be useless. Besides, if he wasn’t correct about himself letting Knox down, he certainly was right about the rest of it.

The captain’s expression lightened and he patted her on the arm. “Anyway, let’s get to the shuttlebay and welcome our VIPs aboard.”

They arrived to find Commander Mullenhoff waiting for them, noticeably unhappy as she fussed with her uniform. Pettigrew had insisted that he and his senior officers wear their full dress uniforms for the occasion. After the connector tube to the shuttle was extended and sealed, Lieutenant Cruz ordered his Marine honor guard into position. It wasn’t every day that
Tempest
welcomed foreign dignitaries, but Cruz’s Marines showed good ceremonial form.

Governor Goran bounded off the shuttle wearing his customary broad smile. Looking somewhat perplexed by the welcoming ceremony, he simply grinned and nodded his way to Pettigrew, who shook his hand and introduced his officers. Behind Goran, Fleetmaster Balasi appeared less cheerful than his governor did, but more pleasant than he had been in previous dealings.

As Pettigrew watched Carr and Sanchez disembark from the shuttlecraft, big smiles broke over both men’s faces. After handshakes and a backslapping hug, Carr made a gesture toward Pettigrew’s uniform.

“Full dress unis. You all look like you’re getting ready for a parade.”

“At least we know how to dress properly in the space force, unlike you army apes.”

“I take it you two are old friends,” said Sanchez.

“That’s right,” Pettigrew said, turning to Adams and Mullenhoff. “This is the guy that fixes me up with all my old music and stuff.”

Carr turned the palms of his hands upward and shrugged. “What can I say? He pays me well to send the stuff to him.”

Mullenhoff snickered. “Can we pay you to stop sending it?”

* * * *

Carr was put up in the XO’s quarters, which was convenient since the room was obviously vacant at the moment. He quickly got the feeling that nobody wanted to talk about why Adams wasn’t staying there and why the nameplate on the door read “Commander Knox.” When he asked if Knox had been wounded or killed in action, he was assured that wasn’t the case, but he also sensed that he shouldn’t inquire further. Sanchez would share quarters with Mullenhoff tonight, then move into the VIP cabin after Goran returned to the planet tomorrow.

That evening
Tempest
staged a dinner to celebrate the beginning of friendship between the Sarissans and the Earth settlers. Another shuttle arrived from the surface carrying Dr. Devi and some friends. Governor Goran had invited Korab and his family, who arrived looking dressed more for a coronation than a dinner. Young Penna and Marton were particularly excited for the trip into outer space. Goran had reached out to the Underground leader since taking power. He declared a general amnesty for Korab’s people and hoped to include some of them in his new administration.

Also along was Voss, whose leg seemed to be doing much better. As one of the many new initiatives Goran had introduced over the last few days, he decreed that all Bakkoans were to adopt two names, as was the style in Renaissance Sector culture. He even requested that
Tempest
supply a database of common names in order to help Earthers make their choices. Voss was one of the first people in the settlement to add a second name, and he proudly introduced himself to the Union officers as Voss Mumphrey.

The final member of the visiting party was Dezrin. It was a small experiment, as well as a gamble. Would being on a spaceship awaken anything in her? Sanchez had accessed the
Tempest
database and determined that Dandi Quinn was the only child of deceased parents, and that her nearest living relative was an ex-husband who had remarried and was living on Odessa. The evening came and went and Dezrin seemed fine, so much so that Vesna commented on how happy she looked. Apparently, Dandi Quinn was dead, and Dezrin was with a family that would love and support her for the rest of her days.

Dinner went well. The neo-Earthers ate some food they had never experienced before, Sanchez gulped down what seemed like a dozen cups of coffee, and Governor Goran turned out to be quite the raconteur. He told jokes and stories and even did impressions of some of Bakkoa’s well-known citizens. At one point, the Governor had Voss laughing so hard that the big man had to leave the room to regain his composure.

The most poignant moment of the evening came when Pettigrew offered a toast. “To those on both sides who made the ultimate sacrifice five days ago. May our two peoples never have cause to shed blood again.” Then the captain turned toward Korab’s two youngsters. “And to Penna and Marton, and all the children of planet Earth, for today and the all days to come.” Carr thought that if Pettigrew ever wanted to go into the diplomatic corps, he would be a natural. He also knew something else about his friend: Chaz Pettigrew meant every word of it.

The evening wound down and everyone said their goodbyes in the shuttlebay. As she was about to board the shuttle, Dezrin gave Sanchez a hug, and then did something that took Etta by surprise. Before she turned to go, Dezrin squeezed Sanchez’s hand and gave her a wink. Maybe there was more of Dandi Quinn left than anyone suspected. Maybe she had found happiness and didn’t want to chance losing everything again by revealing too much of herself. Sanchez was going to tell Carr about the incident, but thought better of it. Let it be…

* * * *

Carr was just about to wash up and turn in when the cabin door chimed. It was Sanchez, with Governor Goran and two
Tempest
crewmembers. As Carr tried to make space for his guests to sit down, the crewmembers deposited a large container inside Carr’s quarters and left.

“Sorry about the lateness of the hour, Captain Carr. I won’t be staying, but I did want to get this to you,” said Goran, pointing toward the large box.

“What is it?”

Goran beamed. “Something Lord Governor Sheel once told me you had your eye on.”

Carr lifted the lid of the container and peeked in through the clear packing foam. It contained the Dragoneer Vase from the Otherverse’s Zhang Dynasty. It was the piece from the Governor’s office, the one he had questioned Sheel about the day of their first meeting.

“I want you to have it,” said Goran. “Consider it a gift from my people, for liberating us from the likes of Sheel and Haldryn.”

Carr looked hard at the container and then gestured toward it. “I can’t take this. It belongs in a museum.”

“You can and you will,” said Goran, switching from the meek, smiling bureaucrat to the overbearing politician. “It’s yours to do with as you wish. And now, I must get some sleep before our meeting tomorrow morning with Captain Pettigrew.”

Goran retired toward his quarters and left Carr and Sanchez staring at the container. “You know what this means?” said Sanchez as she opened up a cloth bag she had brought with her.

Carr was a little overwhelmed and not thinking straight. “What are you talking about? What does it mean?”

“How much do you think a priceless antique from another universe will fetch on the open market?” She reached into the bag and withdrew two rocks glasses and a small container of ice. “A colleague of Doctor Devi’s assures me that hypercarbon dating will not only confirm the age of the vase, but also that its subatomic structure is not from our universe. The news about what’s happened here at Earth will let you name your price for that vase. It should put quite a bundle into Shannon Carr’s medical fund.”

He turned and hugged his colleague and friend, fighting back tears. “But it’s going to take another month to get home. Will she even be alive when I get back?”

“You told me she was stable and in medical stasis. She’ll be waiting for you, I’m sure of it.” They held an embrace for a few seconds and then she gently slid away. “But wait, there’s more.”

Reaching into her bag again, she produced a bottle of Old Oakfield. “Compliments of Chaz.”

“Chaz?” Carr repeated in an amused tone. “I noticed you two getting chummy at dinner, but I had no idea it had gone this far.”

She poured him a double over ice. “I like Pettigrew. He’s intelligent and cultured, and he’s very handsome.”

Carr took the drink from her hand. “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you—you’re not his type.”

She gave a small laugh as she finished pouring her own drink. “Am I
your
type?” she asked, biting her lower lip after the question came out. Carr experienced an adrenaline rush. Their usual banter didn’t work this way and he thought she was joking, but he wasn’t quite sure.

“You might be,” he said with a grin. There was an awkward silence in the cabin, with Sanchez staring at the floor and using her free hand to twirl her hair. He decided to shift the conversation. “What should we drink to?”

She smiled and held her drink high. “How about to Earth and second chances.”

“I can definitely drink to that,” he said as they clinked their glasses.