Last Measure of Devotion (TCOTU, Book 5) (This Corner of the Universe) (7 page)

Heskan
had seen systems like Sade all across the Republic.  It was non-descript space,
unremarkable except that it contained a single habitable surface for humans in
a galaxy that seemed to hold few of them.  Staring at the yacht’s wall screen, watching
the image of Sade’s crimson star was like looking at any number of Heskan’s
memories. 
Skathi, Perdita… so many places I’ve seen,
Heskan
reminisced. 
Sade looks just like any of them.
  A dread-filled
premonition passed through him. 
What an ordinary system to die in.

“I
never cared for the red ones,” McDaniel uttered next to Heskan.  Heskan assumed
the robust privateer captain’s voice was supposed to be muted but it still
carried through most of the room.  McDaniel placed a beefy hand on Heskan’s
shoulder.  “They always seem a little malevolent to me but I guess that’s just
because of the color.”

“What’s
the color of your home star, Frank?” Heskan asked while continuing to stare
into the scarlet abyss.

“Bes
is classified as a K-one-V star… so, technically orange, although it’s so close
to the G-class stars that its light is yellowish-white.”  The large man rumbled
out a long sigh.  “Been a long time since I’ve seen it.”  He brought a mug up
to his mouth and tipped it.  After a lengthy draw, he smacked his lips and
offered, “Uhlan has been more of a home to me than Bes ever was.  I suppose
it’s that way for all of us privateer captains, eh Garrett?”

Heskan
nodded.  “That sentiment probably extends to every captain in any fleet, Frank,
although I’m at the point in my career where I’m ready to call a planet my
home.”

McDaniel
examined his companion meaningfully for a moment.  “Yup.  I’m about getting
there myself.  Maybe another year of fighting left in me.”  He pursed his lips
and added, “Well, maybe two.  And speaking of, you sure you don’t want my ship
in your vanguard?  It could use a brig.”

Heskan
shook his head.  “No, but thanks for the offer.  I need to keep your company’s
ships safe.  After all, we’re going to need them when we defend Seshafi in the
next round.  I just feel bad that I’m forced to place one of your snows in the
van.”  Heskan regarded the rotund man with distressed eyes.  “There just wasn’t
anyone left,” he apologized.

“Lieutenant
Reynolds has done well with Jinete, Garrett,” McDaniel replied.  “And he’s no
coward.  He’ll give you a good pass.”

“I
know all of you will,” Heskan said.  “Just tell your ship captains to stay
defensive.  We’ve already won this battle in a sense and the vanguard’s mission
for this skirmish is to simply play defense to retire intact.”

The
seemingly modest mission was more complicated than it sounded.  The four-ship
vanguard would almost certainly be lining up against a reinforced Saden van
that could double their numbers.

“You
could always just agree to terms before the hostilities commence, Garrett.”

“I
know but I think Commander Vernay’s main can knock out one, maybe two ships, if
we’re organized properly.  When Sade comes at us in Seshafi, it’s going to be
with superior numbers and I’d like to whittle them down a bit if we can.” 
Heskan pointed at the privateer with a smile.  “I’m hoping Uhlan can land some
big hits for us.”

McDaniel
smiled broadly in return.  “Wring every ounce of advantage that you can.  Did
you learn that from the Commonwealth or during your time spent in Secure
Solutions?”

Heskan
looked back at the wall screen.  “I learned that in a star system that held a
sun remarkably similar to this one.”

“Captain
Garrett Heskan and Commander Anastacia Vernay,” the Saden attendant stationed at
the ballroom’s entrance boomed over the commotion.

Heskan
did his best to ignore Vernay’s mumbling about how marriages never seem to last
these days.  He took his eyes off her playful smile and let them sweep over the
room.  The ballroom was large enough to seem spacious but small enough to look
crowded.  It was located on Sade Prime, giving its designers free rein with the
vaulted ceilings, grand staircases and orchestra pit.  Such an expansive
compartment in an orbital would have been folly, but planet-side, it added to
the grandeur of these balls.  Wide, double doors stood across the baroque room,
opening into a grassy courtyard.

Heskan
felt Vernay’s elbow jab lightly into his side.  “There’s our Red Admiral.”  She
hastened her pace toward Sade’s Lord of the Admiralty.

Scrambling
slightly to keep up, Heskan cautioned, “Stacy, I know I said you can be a
little saucy tonight but try not to get yourself into a duel, okay?”  The duo approached
Wallace, in conversation with his highest-ranking officer, Admiral Salene Lane.

“You
never let me have any fun, Captain.”

Heskan
swore he saw the muscles in Wallace’s jaw clench but the tension in the elder
man’s face relaxed instantly.  “Welcome, Captain.  I trust you remember Admiral
Lane.”

“Admiral
Lane,” Heskan dipped his head in a brisk greeting and then looked to Wallace’s
vacant left side.  “Was your lovely wife unable to attend tonight, Viscount?”

“Regrettably
so.  She has a separate function that demanded her presence but she sends you
her warmest regards.”

Heskan
made a half turn toward Vernay.  “And I trust you remember Commander Vernay,
Viscount.”

“Yes,
your untamed angel.”  Wallace smiled ruefully as he turned his attention upon
the diminutive officer.  “I’m afraid we started off badly, my lady.  It’s my understanding
that you played an instrumental role on Elathra when Garrett assumed command of
the fleet after Admiral Cooke—”

“Was
murdered,” Vernay finished for him.  She returned his smile with a dazzling one
of her own.

Heskan
felt the temperature of the room drop several degrees before Wallace corrected,
“Fell during negotiations—”

“With
a figurative knife in his back,” Vernay pressed caustically.  “Placed there by
a life-long friend.”

Wallace
shook his head and grumbled at Heskan, “Is her only redeemable quality her
prowess in battle?”

Vernay
took a quick step toward Wallace and rose to the balls of her feet.  “You can
add loyalty to my friends, Viscount, and as for any other redeemable qualities,
you’ll never know.”

Heskan sighed
outwardly and raised his eyes to the heavens.

*  *  *

Elsewhere
in the ballroom, the Tannault brothers embraced and stepped back from each
other.  “You look well, Peter.”

The
Saden commander smiled warmly and winked at his brother.  “Better than some
here on Sade considering the thrashing we took in Seshafi, Joseph.”  He sipped
his drink casually and scrutinized his brother.

Joseph
Tannault winced slightly at his sibling’s remark.  “Were there many Saden deaths
during the skirmish?”  He lowered his head in memoriam before stating,
“Lieutenant Rice was killed with his entire bridge crew during Dash’s first
pass.”

The
Saden’s eyebrows arched upward in surprise.  “I didn’t realize a Seshafian ship
captain had been killed.  We were lucky though, considering the brutality of
the skirmish.  Many ships suffered casualties in the lower decks but no ship
captains perished.  How is your new fleet commander, Joseph?”

“Different. 
He has the support of the CEO and the Board but he’s also ruffled feathers among
some of the naval officers with his unconventional ways.”

Peter
Tannault chuckled.  “Not just Seshafi’s officers, brother.  Your fleet
commander has sent shockwaves all the way through the Saden command
hierarchy.”  He looked around quickly to ensure the conversation was private. 
“Admiral Wallace is still spinning himself in circles trying to uncover his
Hollaran service records.”

Joseph Tannault grinned
shrewdly while placing a hand on his brother’s back.  He leaned closer to his
sibling and said, “Well, he’s going to drill himself into the ceiling then
because he might be looking in the wrong place.”

*  *  *

“If
I may have your attention, please,” Wallace called with a loud, confident voice.

It
took only a few moments for the multitude of conversations to die out.  The
ball was well into its second hour with the participants enjoying their first dinner
course around an enormous, single banquet table.

The
host rose from his seat at the table’s head.  “Honored guests, trusted friends
and respected rivals.  We join in our time-honored tradition of feasting at the
dining table before feasting on the field of battle.  Each of you honors not
only those seated here but every Saden and Seshafian alike, including our
revered dead.”  Wallace brought his head down in a moment of silence.  Admiral
Lane stood with wine glass held high and stated, “To our revered dead.”

“Here,
here,” responded the crowd.  Goblets were tipped and their contents touched the
lips of each imbiber.

Per
tradition and as Seshafi’s ranking officer, Heskan stood next and extolled, “To
Archduke Riston Dunmore.”

“Here,
here.”

Saden
Commodore Harrow stood and offered, “To Archduke Joshua Covington.”

“Here,
here.”

Heskan
knew the ritual would last close to ten minutes, as corporate tradition
demanded the commemoration of a long list of figures, living and dead.  After the
lengthy tributes were completed, goblets were refilled yet again.

Before
the dinner guests could break into separate conversations, Wallace broke
protocol with an additional announcement.  “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would
indulge me for one last item of note.”  He motioned nonchalantly at an
attendant who beat a hasty pace toward the admiral.  “Although not fully in
step with typical procedure, there is precedent for the following
presentation.”  Wallace’s smile grew wider.  “Captain Heskan, would you please
step to the head of the table?”

Heskan
felt his stomach drop at the request.  He had been given notice of the toasting
ceremony and even witnessed it his first time in Seshafi but he never saw the
host invite his opposite number to the head of the table before.  The congregation
buzzed over the unscripted spectacle before them.  When he reached Wallace,
Heskan turned to face the crowd and felt his eyes instinctively lock with
Vernay’s for support.

Wallace
scooped up a parchment embedded with a datachip from his attendant and boasted loudly,
“I must confess that it is my greatest pleasure in presenting you, good Captain,
with Sade’s proper and righteous
casus bellum
, to be resolved in due
haste following our current hostilities.”  He waved his free hand into the air
in a flourish while presenting the parchment for Heskan’s acceptance.

Half
of the dinner guests laughed and applauded at the showmanship while the other
half gawked in a shocked silence.  Heskan felt his face turn a bright red.  He
quickly accepted the document and looked helplessly at its contents.

“What
say you, Captain?” Wallace boomed over the crowd in expectation.

Sadens
from the table echoed, “What say you?”

Heskan’s stunned
expression evaporated as he recalled one of the last communications he transmitted
to the Red Admiral in their previous encounter.  “This suits me fine.  I’ve
only just begun.”

*  *  *

The
sweat-soaked sub-lieutenant climbed awkwardly down the shuttle’s ladder while shooting
venomous looks at her craft.

“That
was very impressive, Lieutenant Gables,” the Lagrin lieutenant commander
praised as he noted the former privateer’s unusual gait.

The
young pilot growled intemperately.  She cast a final, irritated look back before
turning to face the newly designated “Air Boss,” whose green uniform reminded
her of the Hollarans.  “That was an unmitigated disaster, Karl.”  Gables
grumbled a second time and tacked on an incomprehensible sentence to her
tirade.

Earlier
in the week, Lieutenant Commander Karl Soffe, formerly of the Unadex Corporate
Navy based in Lagrin, urged Gables to dispense with the formality of ranks when
speaking in private.  Gables initially resisted but quickly adapted as it
became apparent just which of the duo were instructor and student.

“You
said these Dunnings racing dinghies were maneuverable,” Gables said in a scathing
tone she normally reserved for her missed approaches back at New London.

Soffe
tilted his head to one side.  “They are, Denise, and they’re some of the
fastest ships built by humans—”

Gables
shook her head and cut him off.  “I don’t care about speed, Karl.  We’re not
going to outrun a GP laser.  We need maneuverability if we want to survive
longer than a few seconds.”  She threw her hands up in frustration as a
thunderous noise drowned her out.  To her right, a second Dunnings shuttle
landed and the containment field separating the craft from the rest of the
hangar blinked off.

The
dejected air boss advised over the racket, “They’re more maneuverable than
anything else we have.”

Gables
waved Sub-lieutenant Vivian May over before returning her attention to the
Lagrinite.  The man, easily ten years her senior, looked crestfallen.  She
sighed.  “Look, Karl, the potential is there.  I think these crates have the
structural integrity to hold up under stress but we need to beef up the
inertial dampers.  I’m using every trick I was taught in the war and I’m still
close to blacking out while jinking.”

May
reached the pair and removed her helmet.  Her expression was fierce.  “Well, the
new targeting package is worthless.  Unless we’re planning on only firing warning
shots, we need the software to be a lot more accurate and don’t get me started
on this notion of using kinetic kill weapons.”  She ran a hand quickly through
her dark hair to calm herself before adding, “We also need more deflection on
our laser turret.  At the ranges we fight, one degree isn’t enough.  Larger
battery packs would be nice too.”

Gables
watched Soffe’s shoulders sag as he mumbled, “That’s not the final software for
your ships.  It’s just what we had immediately available.”  The man crossed his
arms defensively while shaking his head.

Gables
reached out to place her hand on the defeated man’s shoulder.  “Commander,
we’re not saying that this won’t work.  We’re just giving you the information
you need so you can go back to the weapons shop and get things right.”  She
pointedly looked at May and prompted, “Right, Viv?”

May’s
eyes widened in understanding.  “Oh!  Yeah, we can work with these buses,” she promised
as she pointed toward Gables’ shuttle.  “In fact, our trainers back on New— at
the new flight school were pretty close to this.”

“It’s
amazing how far we’ve come in just the first weeks,” Gables added.  “And you
know how much Seshafi is grateful for not only Unadex’s support but her
discretion in this.”

This
was exceedingly true.  When Vernay approached Gables two weeks ago about an
initiative that would field actual fighters in defense of Seshafi, the pilot
jumped at the opportunity despite her reservations.  Although immediately dubious
that such a program could be implemented not only so quickly but also in
secret, every other Brevic pilot had signed on as well.  During their travel to
Ugrit, one of the smaller star systems inside the Unadex Corporation, Gables
learned that the mostly uninhabited system was optimal for such a clandestine endeavor. 
Operating near the system’s outermost gas giant, far from the mining operations
closer to the system’s star, and flying without navigation beacons afforded the
privacy required.

Initially,
Gables felt distrustful of the rival corporation’s motives.  Nearly two weeks
later, that skepticism melted away as she grew to understand just how much
Unadex could gain from the deal. 
We’re teaching their officers fighter
operations,
Gables realized early on. 
They’ll be one of only two
corporations with that skill set.
 
In fact, they’ll know more about how
to conduct fighter ops than Seshafi.

Gables
studied such a sailor now.  Karl Soffe had served sixteen years in the Unadex navy
before “retiring” to accept special duty in the Ugrit star system.  As a
condition of his retirement, Soffe, along with fifty-seven other former Unadex
sailors, would accompany the fifteen Brevic pilots aboard their makeshift “auxiliary
carrier” back to Seshafi to act as space traffic control and ground crew for
the shuttles.  The auxiliary carrier, a racing tender undergoing hasty, radical
reconstruction at Ugrit’s orbital, would carry a score of highly modified racing
shuttles into battle.  Docked alongside that tender, two Seshafian freighters
were also undergoing makeovers.

Based
on Soffe’s expression, Gables judged her flattery had its intended effect. 
“Just tell the techs that we need stronger dampers and a more flexible mount
for the GP to sit in.”  She smiled at the man.  “We’re close, Commander.  It
may not seem like it but we’re close.”