Ruler of Naught (59 page)

Navigation really sweated this one
, thought Margot Ng
as SigInt popped the tacponder and Mzinga relaxed noticeably in his pod.

In the moments before the incoming link arrived, Ng looked
around the bridge. Everyone was properly focused on their tasks, but she could
see how intently they listened for SigInt’s report. Had anyone else made it, or
were
Grozniy
and
Hainu
Squadron alone here?

“Linked,” said Wychyrski. Excitement pitched her voice
higher even through the bridge cadence. “Orders from Ares: remain on station.
Forces on-station: two battlecruisers,
Flammarion
, Captain Armenhaut.
Babur
Khan
, Captain KepSingh; zero destroyers; six frigates…”

Armenhaut? How…
Ng’s attention leapt to
time-on-rendezvous, then to last station.
Babur Khan
had shown up only
two days ago, quickly found at Smaragdis by one of
Grozniy’s
couriers.
But
Flammarion
, formally stationed on the Mandala itself, was shown
returning from Sigil III two weeks ago.
A haunted system
. Had Adamantine
activity been reported there again? But why send Armenhaut so far?

“Very well, Ensign,” Ng said in her most detached manner as
she windowed the list up on the main screen.

Commander Krajno rubbed his chin. “Didn’t expect him,” he
said.

“No.” She spoke neutrally, to soften the curtness of her
reply, then cadenced her voice. “Navigation, take us to the indicated
rendezvous.”

“He’s expecting us, though,” Krajno said, a corner of his
mouth betraying sardonic amusement. The courier dispatched to Arthelion had not
reported back, but there was little doubt it had arrived.

“Too bad there’s no digest on the tacponder,” he continued.
“Stygrid always was a stickler for security. They should have some good intel
by now, I’d think.”

He was trying to jolly her, and almost succeeding. But her
XO could only guess at some of the emotional and political parameters she was
juggling in the wake of this surprise. Laughter fluttered inside her as she
imagined the look on Metellus’s face right about now.

However, Krajno’s implication was accurate. Armenhaut had
been preparing for her arrival, using security to keep the intel close for best
advantage, and although the Standing Orders were clear on her superior rank,
the situation was too desperate to let politics get in the way of efficiency.
Which gave Armenhaut the kind of leverage he was a master at using.

“KepSingh is competent,” said Krajno, again demonstrating
one of the characteristics of a good XO.
Part mind-reader, part nanny…
Her mouth quirked at the memory of an instructor’s voice.

Competent, yes, but an old-school captain from the Tetrad
Centrum, where Semion’s influence was—
had been
—strong. The frigate
captains, all junior, of course. didn’t matter.

She grimaced inwardly, disgusted with the direction they
were taking.
Politics. Stinks and sticks to everything.
For all she
knew, in the fog of battle it might be one of those frigate captains who
carried away the hyperwave they sought.

She took refuge in a three-cornered discussion with Krajno
and Rom-Sanchez of the tactics applicable to a fleet with as many
battlecruisers in it as destroyers, which was terminated shortly thereafter
when
Grozniy
found the
Flammarion
.

Armenhaut kept her waiting for a period excruciating in its
exact calculation. But any irritation she was feeling drained away when
Armenhaut’s face windowed up on the screen. His uniform was as crisp as ever,
but the man himself looked hag-ridden.

“Captain Ng. We have been expecting you and
Hainu
Squadron. Most anticipated additions to our forces.” Behind him his bridge was
all gleaming surfaces and immaculately-attired officers, as if such scrupulous
precision could by mental force restore order to the universe.

On a sub-display, she saw that SigInt had not yet found
Babur
Khan
and the frigates. Not surprising: they were probably off gathering
more tactical intel. But Armenhaut probably also saw their absence as an
opportunity for better control of this encounter.

In the meantime, Communications had linked the two ships,
and data was pouring back and forth: first the digests, then the raw data. But
she had one fact to start with for which she didn’t need even a digest.

“No more than I anticipate the rich feast of data your two
weeks here will have garnered.” She paused a bare moment. “The tacponder data
was rather sparse. Did you find anything at Sigil III?”

If he was discomfited it didn’t show. “Alas. A typical
haunting: a Sodality rock rat running from shadows. But my orders were quite
explicit: with all possible dispatch.” A slight emphasis on the last word
carried with it the unassailable confidence of one of the Navy’s most notorious
nanosecond captains, always striving for the fastest run-through of the
standard drills.

And you didn’t wonder why you were sent all the way from
Arthelion?
Armenhaut was not stupid, but arrogance could be just as
crippling. Perhaps the record of
Prabhu Shiva’s
last battle would finish
off his complacency.

Which was already badly frayed, she decided as he spoke
again a fraction of a beat too fast. “The data you sent ahead from your
adventures has already contributed to our strategic perspective.” Or was that
simply the result of the fatigue she saw in his countenance?

No matter. Whatever had betrayed him, she deflected his
verbal lunge in
attacque au fer
.
You never were much of a fencer,
anyway, Armenhaut
. “Excellent. And
Coup d'arrêt!
“Then you can see
how we must proceed, and how quickly.”

Despite his Douloi control she could almost see the man’s
frantic post-facto calculation, realizing that talking in front of his bridge
crew, rather than from his ready room, had enabled Ng to neatly trap him. She
almost felt sorry for him. Arthelion under Eusabian called for a very different
naval skill set.

Before he could reply, she spoke again. “
Grozniy
will
welcome you, the other captains, and all tactical heads tomorrow at 1200 hours
for our first tactical discussion.” She had rank points on him and everyone
else on-station so far, so protocol demanded that they come to her. But that
would just be the first step in fusing a handful of ships into a fleet that
could wrest a hyperwave from Eusabian’s forces.

She could see the effort it took for Armenhaut to control
himself, and pitied the next officer on
Flammarion
to cross him, however
slightly. But he recovered almost without hesitation, and bowed slightly to her
from his pod in a condescending mode. “Your gracious invitation is most
appreciated. We will be there.”

o0o

Metellus Hayashi drew a slow breath and let it out even
slower.
I will not get angry. I will not even glance at my chrono. Armenhaut
wants just that.

Hayashi and his subordinates had been on board the
Grozniy
since early morning—the frigate captains had arrived very little later.
Armenhaut and KepSingh, captains of the
Flammarion
and
Babur Khan
respectively, had waited until the last possible moment. And the couriers reporting
back had so far found no trace of
Joyeaux
. That in itself was evidence
of what the Navy faced—not, thought Hayashi, that that would make any
difference to Armenhaut.

(Shuttle,)
the officer of the watch reported,
dry-voiced.

Hayashi put his hands behind his back, concentrating on
keeping his demeanor impassive as he took the transtube down to the forward
beta landing bay. Margot had asked him to meet the captains.

He could hear her voice again:
Remember, Metellus, Semion
is dead. From now on, Armenhaut and his kind can only be promoted on merit.
Every time you look at Armenhaut’s face, think of that and pity him. I am going
to try to do the same.

With a hiss and a subdued boom, the shuttle’s ramp came
down. Two figures, the older one short and round, the other tall and
commanding, appeared at the top of the ramp, both clad in faultless whites,
their captain’s insignia visible from across the bay. They strode to the bottom
of the ramp, followed by two other officers, a man and a woman, both Lieutenant
Commanders, also in dress uniform. They all stopped before stepping onto the
bay deck.

As he stepped forward, Hayashi’s eyes went to the chrono:
12:00 precisely.

The taller captain executed a salute in impersonal mode. “I
have permission to come aboard.” That was Armenhaut. KepSingh’s gaze lifted,
but he waited.

Hayashi kept his face blank as he stepped forward, uttered
the formal greetings, receiving KepSingh and the two tactical heads in turn,
and then bade them follow.

As they entered the transtube, he touched his boswell:
(Had permission: whites: KepSingh too—)
But as Hayashi glanced at the
shorter captain, he surprised a slightly pained glance on the man’s face as he
glanced at Hayashi’s own regulation daily-wear blues.

It was up to Hayashi to speak, but he kept a strict, formal
silence as the transtube accelerated them towards the captain’s conference room
near the bridge. Hayashi once again tapped Margot’s private code and added:
(KepSingh
came on Stygrid’s shuttle, but his teslas are only at threat-level one, if that.)
That was all he had time for.

That gave Margot a few seconds’ preparation as they walked
down the spotless corridor. Marine guards snapped to attention outside the hatch.
Armenhaut, as senior in rank, went through first, followed by KepSingh, then Hayashi
and the two tactical officers.

In the center of the room a conceptual map was evolving in
the tac-holo; subordinate windows glowed from every wall but one, where a bare
sideboard stood beneath a simple holo of Gelasaar III. The riotous color of the
displays emphasized the fact that every one of the captains and tactical heads
waiting, Margot included, was clad in quiet regulation blues. Hayashi watched
Armenhaut’s upper lip lengthen. Hayashi caught a significant glance from Bea
Doial that took in Jarnock Galt as well, the third
Hainu
captain.

“In a moment we’ll take our seats and begin,” Ng said. “But
first I want to say how happy I am to see that
Flammarion
and
Babur
Khan
won through.”

Then she immediately addressed Armenhaut. “Stygrid. It’s
been a long flight from our Academy days, and I know neither of us expected to
end up mustering out-system from a Mandala occupied by Eusabian of Dol’jhar.”

The impossible phrase sent a
frisson
through Hayashi,
as he knew it would have for everyone present. But that was overshadowed by his
appreciation of a masterfully accurate opening shot, fired by the woman who’d
won the Karelian Star for her part in ending the first war with Dol’jhar.
So
many layers, from “why I outrank you” to “how the hell did you survive?” Right
across the bow, Margot
.

Armenhaut murmured the minimum acknowledgement, his Douloi
mask hard held. He was determined not to be trapped again.

But she’d already turned to KepSingh, and this time she stepped
forward and held out her hand. “Captain KepSingh,” she said cordially. “We’ve
never met, but Admiral Horne has spoken often of you.”

KepSingh’s round face relaxed in a brief smile. “We were
ensigns together in the Eighth Shiidran Expedition.”

“The first use of the Ogres,” Ng said. Hayashi noticed a
slight change in Armenhaut’s expression. The Barcan battle androids came
perilously close to infringing the Ban, something not likely to sit well with
an old-family High Douloi like Armenhaut.

“We heard some tales about that action,” Ng continued. “We
even lived through some of them in the sims.”

KepSingh laughed softly. “Horne did threaten to do that.”

Ng followed up with greetings to the tactical officers who’d
accompanied their captain, greeting them by name.

Now would be the time for
Grozniy’s
captain to offer
some refreshment. Armenhaut’s face of course gave no clue to his thoughts, but
Hayashi knew he would have noted the absence of either steward or buffet. She
flickered the briefest glance at Armenhaut’s white uniform, and said cordially,
“Please, take your places.”

Fire two—and two hits.

“We’re still crunching the intel, of course.” Ng seated
herself and continued, gesturing at the tac-holo as the officers found their
pods, guided by their boswells. “With three battlecruiser arrays now linked in
real time, that is speeding up considerably, and of course you have your own
notes and evolutions.”

She waved at the largest wall display, which flicked to a
list of strategic points with a simple heading at the top, a high-level digest
of the conceptual Tenno map in the center of the room. “In one sense, our
situation is quite easy to describe. We’re all of us survivors of the first
phase of the Second Dol’jharian War.” She looked around the room somberly.
“Very lucky survivors, at that, as the record of
Prabhu Shiva’s
last
action proves.”

Fire three, right at the luckiest man in the room. And he
knows it.
So did his tactical head, judging from the flicker in his
expression.

“But there’s another reason we’re lucky. We’re where phase
two of the war begins, and we now have sufficient forces to prosecute it.”

“With all due respect, Captain Ng,” said Armenhaut. “Phase
two is a matter that will be decided on Ares.”

Broadside from Stygrid.
Armenhaut was making it very
plain that he respected only the uniform, and not the person inside it. Hayashi
watched KepSingh direct a hooded glance at the other captain.
Older, Douloi,
but not as high in rank, and every point he has he earned.
After
Grozniy’s
courier arrived, Hayashi was certain that old friend Stygrid had used every
opportunity to pour some poison into the older man’s ears.