Last Measure of Devotion (TCOTU, Book 5) (This Corner of the Universe) (14 page)

“Hardly
an excuse.”

Covington
winced slightly at the exchange and shifted positions on the couch.  He cleared
his voice in a gentle request for peace.  “It’s all behind you now, Garrett.” 
The patrician smiled in a grandfatherly way.  “I, for one, am most grateful
that you and your people possess a warrior’s heritage.”  Noticing Nguyen’s
frustrated expression at his words, Covington explained, “Yon, the major powers
fight the way they fight because they can afford it, and because they can
afford it, they must.”  He shifted again awkwardly with a frail hand bracing
the small of his back.  “I cannot imagine the viciousness of entering a fight
knowing the only way to survive is through the complete annihilation of your
enemy.”  The archduke wetted dry lips and then swallowed.  After brief
consideration, he gave Heskan a knowing look.  “Your people bonded intensely
during those times, didn’t they?”

“Yes,”
Heskan replied cautiously, sensing a deeper meaning from Covington.

Covington
grunted.  “And Commander Vernay, when did she first serve with you?”

“She
was a lieutenant, junior grade, a weapons officer.”

“Well,
she certainly developed a strong bond during those times, your entire crew
has.”  Covington looked downward in reflection.  He took several more moments
before nodding toward Nguyen.  “I think what us Seshafians must realize is that
those bonds are nothing to be feared.  Each of us must take great strides in
welcoming Garrett’s people into our navy and our world.  The feelings… the
loyalty they have toward each other will never be broken so we, as their role
models, must ensure that Garrett’s people understand that not only are they a
part of their tight-knit group but they are also a part of a much larger
society.”  Covington redirected his gaze at Heskan and spoke with a wisdom of
the ages.  “Eventually, you may have other insight about Vernay’s motivations to
protect you but we must, at the minimum, ensure that the choices of the former Brevics
you’ve placed in command are for the good of the entire navy and not just your
contingent.”  He dipped his narrow shoulders.  “It pains me to say that,
Garrett, but we must acknowledge this truth.”

Heskan
felt stripped by the naked honesty.  “You pull no punches, Archduke, but you
are undeniably correct.”

“Oh,”
Covington permitted a wry smile to form on his lips, “I’ve pulled a few,
Garrett.”  He chuckled lightly.  “Let us now turn toward the matter of the
pending legal action in Nessus.  As I suspected, all three of the line ship
section commanders and Elathra’s entire command crew will be asked to testify.”

“What
testimony can we possibly contribute to The Courts on Cooke’s death?” Nguyen
asked indignantly.

“None,”
Covington answered plainly.  “However, since Admiral Wallace is being forced to
testify regarding some of the statements he made during the pre-battle negotiations,
the Saden advocates have placed those section commanders and Garrett’s command crew
as potential witnesses.”  He looked reassuringly over to Heskan and said,
“Don’t worry, Garrett.  I suspect this is just to keep our command structure
from training with the fleet during the time Wallace is away from his.”

“What
does testifying entail, Archduke?” a wide-eyed Heskan asked.

“Don’t
worry, my boy.  Just tell your people to tell the truth and they’ll be fine.”

Heskan’s
heart skipped a beat.  “What if they ask where we come from?”

The
very serious question was batted away easily by Covington.  “Privateer Confidentiality. 
You were a privateer during all that time so you’re protected by the
confidentiality clauses you signed when Cooke wrote up your contract.  The
Courts will not ask you to break your contract, Garrett.  They take such matters
very seriously.”

Heskan
exhaled audibly as Covington added, “Decide how you want to transport to
Nessus.  We can arrange a private liner if you wish or you can take something
else.”

“I’d
like a brig,” Heskan replied without hesitation.

“A
warship?” Nguyen asked skeptically.

“After
our run from the Republic in Hussy, I never want to travel far in an unarmed
ship again, Yon.”

Covington’s
brow furrowed slightly as he considered the request.  “That’s a bit
unconventional, Garrett.  A warship to Nessus… but I suppose it is very
privateer.”  His shoulders began to shake up and down in fits of subdued
laughter.  “I expect we can accommodate that request.  Of course, my son will
never forgive me if I don’t suggest travelling aboard Hawk.”

“His
ship would be my first choice,” Heskan agreed.

“Then
the matter is settled,” Covington acknowledged.  “I’ll have one of my
barristers assist you and your people during the trip.  After all, there’s no
harm showing up prepared, is there?”

Covington’s
fingers deftly played over his datapad in a manner that belied the man’s great
age.  “There.”  He placed the datapad to the side.  “And now, the final
matter.  Garrett, how would you characterize the level of hostility afforded
Dioscuri?”

The
question surprised Heskan.  For the last forty-eight hours, Heskan replayed the
combat run against his vanguard.  Every maneuver by the Saden ship sections
seemed designed to isolate Heskan’s van.  Even placing the Saden rear into a
vulnerable position to lure away his main could be construed as deliberate. 
Over the last two days, he wandered back and forth over the fine line dividing
epiphany and paranoia to arrive at the ultimate deduction that Wallace played
him like a fiddle.  But to have outmaneuvered him in such manner was predicated
on Wallace knowing that Heskan himself was commanding
Dioscuri
, and that
revelation opened the door to a much darker path than Heskan wanted to tread. 
He was reluctant to voice his suspicions that another traitor was embedded in
the Seshafian navy, fearing such an accusation would further isolate him from
the people he was supposed to lead.  To hear Covington’s question reignited the
flames of conspiracy.

“Archduke,
I think Dio was singled out.”

“Quite
harshly, I would say.”  Covington’s face twisted in distaste.  “This admittance
brings me great displeasure.  I believe we have a very serious problem inside
our navy.  We’ve so strongly united with Sade in the past that I fear many of
our mid-level officers remember too fondly a time when IaCom was our ally. 
Many of our sailors still worship Wallace.”

“What
can we do about it?” Nguyen asked.  “We’ve worked closely with the Saden navy for
so long… how will we sever such entrenched ties?”

Covington
frowned.  “We shan’t.”

“But
we can,” Heskan suggested, “take steps to protect ourselves.”

Covington moved his
cane in Heskan’s direction.  “Exactly.”  The man’s grey eyes burned intensely. 
“And, we can make every effort to exploit such duplicity.”

*  *  *

The
portal opened with a faint hum and Oliver Wallace marched victoriously through Colby
Persin’s office.  The Secure Solutions representative looked up at the surprise
intrusion and began to speak.  “Vis—”

“Got
him!” Wallace announced triumphantly.  He stopped just short of the smaller
man’s desk and slammed down twin folders, spilling their contents.

Persin’s
eyes followed the splash of pages, coming to a news blurb entitled, “Brevic
Navy Ships Return Victorious.”  He quickly scanned the article mumbling as he
went.  “…Commander Garrett Heskan… hero of the Republic…”  Finally, Persin
looked up at the admiral standing over him.  “Are you sure this is him?”

“We
may not have access to ‘Vic military personnel files like we do with the
Commonwealth but it all fits, Colby.”  Wallace pointed at the two folders on
Persin’s desk.  “These are the same man.”

Persin
scratched his head.  “How did he end up in Secure Solutions?”

The Red
Admiral’s face darkened.  “That’s not my concern.  I care not about how this
man inserted himself into my affairs but only that he thwarted my grand
strategy and cost me immeasurable standing.  He will pay the ultimate price for
daring to meddle with my plans and I no longer care how.”  Wallace turned away
from the desk and stared at a wall screen showing a detailed status of Secure
Solutions’ ships.  Most had returned to Acca Larentia inside the Commonwealth
for replenishment and repair.  Within months, they would be returning to Sade
to take part in Wallace’s operation against Seshafi.  He thought bitterly of
the Seshafian fleet commander.  “I nearly had him last week but he slipped the
noose.  Shortly, he will sail to Nessus to testify.”  Wallace turned to look at
Persin once again.  “I don’t want that man to return.  Do you understand me?”

Persin’s
eyes widened at the implication.  “B-but, Viscount,” the man stuttered.  “We
can’t attack him in Federation space without a letter of marque from The Courts. 
It’d be a major violation of both Federation and corporate law.  We… we’d lose
our privateer’s license!”

Wallace
shook a pointed finger at him.  “I’m not asking you to do the job personally,
you fool.”  He directed the sales representative’s attention to the papers
splayed across the desk.  “Review the file and learn how to read between the
lines.  Why was a hero of the Republic hiding inside the LMA as a privateer?  We
aren’t the only people seeking this man.”

The newly
designed missile flew within five hundred meters of the empty cargo container before
continuing into deep space.  The projectile, less than a third the size of a
standard corporate gravitational warhead, remained inert.

Lieutenant
Commander Soffe paused the recording.  “Damn, it didn’t detonate.”

Gables
grumbled agreement.  “That’s four for four that have been duds.  What’s the
point of these runs if your missiles keep failing?”

“You
have to understand, Lieutenant,” Soffe said as he pointed at the screen, “we’ve
never built anything like this before.  These missiles are much smaller than a Javelin. 
It’s impossible to cram a missile drive, a guidance package and a gravity
warhead into something so small.”

Gables
smiled ruefully.  “You forgot an ECCM package.  If the engineers don’t install
something to counter the wall of ECM from the enemy, fitting the rest won’t matter.”

The
Lagrinite stared at the missile design on a side screen.  He remained silent for
half a minute but finally said, “Maybe we should abandon the missiles and
concentrate on close attacks.  Would your pilots really be willing to fly that
close to the enemy?  It seems like suicide.”

Gables
resisted the urge to shiver at the truism and willed her voice to sound
confident.  “We’ve done it before and all the pilots with me survived it.” 
Despite her best efforts, her voice cracked slightly.  “When is the next
sortie?” she asked to cover the tremble.

Soffe
switched the wall screen to the mission-planning schedule.  Red lines struck
through the latest timetable.  “We’re falling behind.  Maintenance is pushing
through another software update and since that will delay the next exercise, I
want them to take the time to install the new battery packs.”

“Good,”
Gables said eagerly.  “How many shots will the new packs give us?”

“The
ones we’ve tested will hold up for fifteen, maybe twenty shots before they
overheat and explode.”

“Well
that’s a problem,” Gables stated sardonically.

Soffe
nodded before rubbing at the dark circles under his eyes.  “I know.  The
engineers already think we’re crazy.  They want to know exactly how we’re
draining these packs so quickly… and why.  Our cover story is the Dunnings
shipbuilders are working on some sort of turbo boost to use near the end of a
race.”

Soffe
neglected to tell Gables he did not believe a fix was a priority because the reckless
pilots would be long dead before their battery packs were expended.  “The
engineers are efforting a solution to, at the minimum, prevent them from exploding.”

“Well, that’s nice of
them.”

*  *  *

Sebastian
Brewer knew the trail had gone cold and his quarry, flown.  The expression was
a fitting one, for he was most certainly a hunter.  However, his game had
proved extremely elusive and over the past months, Brewer began to wonder if
his heart had ever been in the pursuit. 
Maybe it’s best,
he thought
,
not to find him
. 
The most dangerous quarry is the one that’s cornered
and desperate. 
Brewer sighed a mixture of regret and relief as he closed
the file on his datapad marked “G. Heskan.”  He pushed the file with his
fingertip to a folder on the screen designated “Inactive.”

A
muted chime preceded an announcement from his secretary.  “Excuse me, Mr.
Secretary, but Agent Hansen and another gentleman are waiting to see you.”

Brewer
took a final look at his past before dropping it into the folder.  “Send them
in, Joseph.”

A
moment later, he opened and familiarized himself with the agent’s portfolio.  Agent
Hansen was a high-level analyst stationed along the Federation border.  The man
possessed keen insight into trends and intentions but lacked the talent for actual
field operations.  Nestled safely along a border that would never see any real
action, Hansen worked quietly to interpret Federation and corporate system financial
transactions.

Hansen
entered the lavish office with a second man closely behind him.  Brewer’s
eyebrows arched curiously on seeing the companion.  He assumed the gentleman would
be merely Hansen’s aide.  The conjecture appeared incorrect judging by the
emblem on the man’s jacket.

Brewer’s
first instinct was offense.  “Mr. Hansen, before I have you face consequences
for allowing a Hollaran to enter the office of the Secretary of Internal
Security, would you care to make a plea for leniency?”

Hansen’s
eyes grew wide and the privateer next to him paled at the threatening tone in Brewer’s
voice.  “Mr. Secretary, this man comes with a gift.”  He turned toward the Hollaran
expectantly.

The
jacketed man reached timidly across the desk with hand extended.  “Colby
Persin, Mr. Secretary.  I represent Secure Solutions.  It’s a pleasure to meet
you.”

Brewer
let the offered hand hang in midair.  He glared with distaste at Hansen and
stated, “I sincerely hope you know better than to bring a peddler into my
office, Agent.”

Hansen
tugged lightly at his collar.  “Yes, sir.  Mr. Persin has provided the Republic
with very credible and actionable intelligence.”  The analyst looked to Persin
and motioned quickly with his hand.

“Mr.
Secretary, it has come to my company’s attention that a person of interest to the
Republic has taken shelter inside our employment rolls.  We’re uncertain how he
managed—”

“Get
to the point,” Brewer growled impatiently.

Desperately
seeking to avoid an eruption, Hansen blurted out, “Pursuant to the Intelligence
bulletin issued 1226.995, we’ve located one Garrett Heskan.”

Brewer’s
head dropped together with his shoulders upon hearing the news.  He stared in
silence at his datapad.  Ten seconds passed.  Thirty.

“Mr.
Secretary?  This person was listed four months ago as a Jade Priority figure.”

“Where
is he?” Brewer finally asked.  The secretary’s voice was subdued.

Hansen
shifted his weight excitedly.  “A corporate system inside the Lesser Magellanic
Arm named Seshafi.”  The analyst bobbed eagerly on his feet.  Jades were the holy
grails in Republic acquisition.  Despite knowing better, Hansen asked, “Who is
he?”

Brewer
ignored the question.  “The Federation.  Not the Commonwealth?”

Persin
answered hesitantly.  “It’s possible he may have lived in the Commonwealth,
sir.  Our company is based in Acca Larentia so it’s conceivable that this man
you seek has lived there.  However, he’s no longer a part of our organization
and has been sighted very recently in the Seshafi star system.  Seshafi is
controlled by a corporation called—”

“Mr.
Persin,” Brewer cut the man off while holding up his hand.  He then swept his
hand toward the door.  “You should go now.”

Persin
closed his gaping mouth, nodded and quickly spun to retreat from Brewer’s
presence.  Hansen remained standing in uncomfortable silence.

Brewer
took his time manipulating the desktop controls slaved to the various wall
screens in the room.  The screen near the end of a small conference table inside
the spacious office flared into bright life.  The known galaxy appeared on the
three-meter by two-meter screen.  Seshafi’s star shone brightly inside the LMA,
surrounded by Federation space.  It was benignly distant from his Republic.

“Relocation
will be difficult,” Hansen said in anticipation of a covert operation.  “Since
he’s a Jade though, elimination is an option.”

“You’re
speaking out of your grade, Hansen,” Brewer warned.  “Those decisions will be
made at a level far above your understanding.  Your function is to feed the
decision-makers information.  Do you have anything further?”

The
man blinked nervously as he spoke.  “Just that he’s scheduled to testify in a
legal proceeding in the Nessus system.  We don’t have a specific itinerary but
we do have the date of his summons.”

Brewer
was intimately familiar with The Courts on Nessus.  The entire compound was a
fortress and a botched operation there would create repercussions that he was
unwilling to accept.  His eyes traced the star lanes from Seshafi to Nessus. 
The preferred route was obvious given the layout of the Type-B tunnel points in
that portion of the Federation.  Other than minor corporate zones, the route
was entirely inside Federation space.  The closest segment to the Republic was
still three dives into the Federation at the Enyo star system. 
Too far,
Brewer
thought gratefully. 
Even Adira Fane wouldn’t risk a war to settle this
vendetta.
  Brewer sighed. 
Of course, there are always proxies that can
be manipulated…. 
After more silence, Brewer addressed Hansen.  “How did
you come across this intelligence?”

The
man looked down briefly at his shoes and grimaced slightly.  “To be honest,
sir, it fell into my lap.  I’m the Lead Forecaster in Intentions down in New
London and a junior analyst brought Colby Persin to my attention.  Mr. Persin sought
us out, Mr. Secretary.”

“You
trust this mercenary?”

Hansen
nodded.  “We’ve done the due diligence, sir.  We’ve actually triple-checked
it.  The information is independently corroborated by media sources.”  He
raised his datapad and inputted commands.  When finished, he used his datapad
to point toward the active wall screen.  “The additional information is
available there, sir.  This Hollaran has been very busy down in the LMA.”

Brewer’s
face remained unreadable. 
The idiot thinks Heskan is a Hollaran.
  It
was not completely surprising given the limited information in the flash
bulletin disseminated by the Ministry.  The Brevic Republic’s Garrett Heskan
was still a hero in the eyes of the general populace and safely ensconced in an
undisclosed project vital to Republic interests.  “What else do you have?”

“Uh,
that’s all, sir.”  Hansen resumed his nervous dancing back and forth.  “Just
the confirmed location of a Jade, sir.  The source of original intel made
available for your interrogation and proof of independent verification.” 
Despite following procedure to the letter, sweat began to roll down the sides
of the agent’s face.

“I
suppose you are expecting some kind of reward for clocking this Jade, Agent.”

Hansen
shook his head curtly.  His voice wavered.  “No, sir.  Just serving the
Republic is its own reward.”

Brewer
smirked.  “How convenient for you, then.”  Brewer felt unresolved anger boil to
the surface and leak over.  “You see, this alert was issued in error.  It
should have never been released and although you may think you’ve done the
Republic a great service, all you’ve actually managed is to throw an enormous conundrum
onto my lap.”

“I’m
sorry, sir.”

“You
couldn’t have known.”  Brewer looked away in disgust.  After a moment, he
exhaled in fatal acceptance.  “I’m assuming total control of this matter, Agent
Hansen.  You’ve never heard of this man or his supposed location and you never
up-channeled the information to me.”

“I
understand, sir.  Am I dismissed?”

Brewer waved the man
away.  When he was alone again, he stared at the wall screen.  The temptation
to categorize the new information as unconfirmed speculation was nearly irresistible. 
He understood that dismissing the information might be, in actuality, saving
the Republic from opening Pandora’s Box
.  Some good, some evil and once it’s
out, you can never put it back.
  It would be easy to bury the intelligence
from the Minister.  Hansen had blundered into the information and the chances
of other agents discovering Heskan’s whereabouts seemed remote in the extreme. 
Brewer was about to delete the information but then watched the IaCom media
reports.

*  *  *

Heskan
was fidgeting inside his service coat when he heard the knock at the door.

“Enter,”
he said as an IaCom media assistant aided him with straightening the shoulders
of the heavy garment.  Despite being well-tailored, the large epaulettes still
felt cumbersome.

“You’re
due on stage in two minutes, Captain,” a second attendant reminded as she
picked up a large wand designed to remove lint from fabric.

The
door to the waiting room swung open and a gloomy Commander Vernay trudged in.  She
had seemed distant over the last weeks, ever since reporting in to him to explain
her actions at Sade.  However, the distance was not the coolness that Heskan experienced
when she was upset with one of his decisions.  Instead, it seemed more like a
self-imposed exile from their friendship.  His former first officer’s natural
beauty was marred by dark circles under her eyes. 
Is this the burden of command
I’m seeing,
Heskan wondered.

“The
Chief requested a transfer off Ajax,” she said morosely as she dropped onto a nearby
couch.  “He’s going to Falcon of all places.”

Heskan
cringed at the news. 
That was bad timing.
  He glanced at the attendant
before addressing Vernay.  “That request could be for any number of reasons,
Stacy.”

The
woman’s downcast eyes rotated up from the floor to meet his.  Deep wrinkles
etched grooves of strain around them. 
She looks ten years older.