Last Measure of Devotion (TCOTU, Book 5) (This Corner of the Universe) (4 page)

Heskan
smiled and extended his hand.  “A pleasure, Commander McDaniel.”  The privateer’s
hand enveloped his own, covering it almost completely.

“Nice
to meet you, Captain, and it’s nice to finally meet ‘The Hero of Seshafi.’”  A
large, toothy grin emerged from the human fireplug’s face as he removed his hat
to reveal a cleanly shaven head.

Heskan
dipped his head humbly.  “The Seshafians who served with me were the true
heroes.”

The
tacked-on remark drew a curious expression from McDaniel.

Nguyen
swiftly interjected, “That’s not to suggest that privateer sailors are anything
less than heroes as well.”  The captain’s dark eyes cast an urgent look at
Heskan.

“Exactly,”
Heskan agreed quickly.  “Everyone who fought for AmyraCorp that day served with
distinction.”

McDaniel
barked out a short laugh and started for a chair.  “Archduke, you mind if I
sit?”  He circled a short, narrow sofa table and wedged himself into the lush
fabric of an end chair.  “Sit down, guys.  Let’s talk some.”

Once
seated, Covington stated, “We’re prepared to offer you the standard contract
we’ve used with your company for the last twenty years.  We take great pride in
the relationship the exists between us—”

“How
many other privateers have signed on with AmyraCorp?” McDaniel interrupted.

“We’ve
only begun negotiations,” Nguyen answered dismissively.

The
response drew a frown from McDaniel.

“None,”
Heskan admitted.

McDaniel
nodded in self-confirmation.  He then looked across the low table directly at
Heskan.  “Do you know why?”

Heskan
met the man’s stare and did not waver.  There was power within the privateer’s
eyes but Heskan had grown used to powerful men’s gazes.  “I suspect because of
me, because of the brutal nature of the last battle.”  Heskan thought he saw a
glimmer of a smirk forming.

“Yup,”
McDaniel answered simply.  He leaned his bulk forward and turned his head
toward Covington.  The man’s neck would have shamed a bull’s.  “I can tell you
there are two camps within the privateer companies regarding this conflict of
yours, Archduke.  There’s the group that’s afraid to sign on with AmyraCorp
because they think this man,” he gestured toward Heskan, “will throw their
ships and lives away and a second group that believes that this same man must
be stopped at all costs before he changes corporate conflicts into something where
privateering is no longer profitable.”  The man eased back into his chair. 
“Neither group wants to work for him.”

Covington
cleared his throat, not trusting his voice initially.  “We have a deep and
enduring bond between our businesses, Frank.  My corporation was the first to
risk hiring your company when it initially chartered.”

McDaniel
dropped his head in acknowledgment.  “I know, Archduke.  That’s exactly what I
told Arthur Catalina when he said he was sending Commander Sawyer to negotiate
instead of me.”

“So
what shall it be, Frank,” Covington cut to the chase.  “Is the Iron Brigade
available for hire?”

The
rotund man returned his attention to Heskan.  “Can you guarantee me that we
won’t face the kind of carnage that McMillon Group, Fleet Works and DAC saw
last time around?”

Heskan
hesitated. 
Just tell him “yes,” Garrett.
 
You need his ships.
  He
saw the urgent, almost desperate look from Nguyen.  Across the table, Covington
merely stared emotionlessly at him.  He sagged his shoulders as he thought of
how superiors from his past had minimized the dangers of his assignments.  “I
can’t lie to you, Commander McDaniel.  I don’t know what the conflict with Sade
will bring and I won’t make a promise I may not be able to keep.”

Nguyen
released a dissatisfied breath.  He opened his mouth to, once again, cover for
his fleet commander but was silenced by McDaniel’s next statement.  “A
desperate man would have told me yes, Captain.”

“I
don’t make it a habit to lie to those who may serve with me,” Heskan answered
but then confessed, “however, I
am
desperate, Commander.”

Heskan
saw gigantic shoulders begin to shake in short fits.  Strange, muted laughs
escaped the man’s upturned mouth.  When the guffaws subsided, the privateer
announced, “We can do business, Captain… and call me Frank.”

Commander
Vernay took anxious steps toward the airlock. 
These Seshafian sailors don’t
know I bull’s-eyed Blackheart from ten light-seconds with a failing targeting
system or that I protected Avenger from ten thousand missiles despite our
RSLs.  They certainly don’t know that I developed the strategy that defended us
from the Parasites… all those accomplishments mean nothing now.  I’m starting with
only what they’ve heard about during the last battle with Sade.  When I step
onto that bridge as “The Captain,” every minor action I take today will echo
loudly as to what kind of captain I am because that is all these people will
know.
  She took a final, deep breath and swiped her datapad over the portal
controls.  The panel registered the owner’s identity and turned a compliant
green.  She walked down the narrow docking tube connecting the planet’s main
orbital with
CDS Ajax
, venerable warhorse of the Seshafian fleet.

Ajax’s
keel had been laid in 917,
nearly eighty years ago.  Built in the Federation star system of Helwan, the 6,450-tonne
ship of the line was designed with a conventional weapons layout.  Two
Federation Maclex heavy lasers had replaced her ancient directed-energy heavy
weapons platforms in 959, six years after the omnipresent GP laser supplanted
her twelve smaller beam weapon turrets.  Like most fourth-rates built during
her era, she lacked missile armament due to size limitations.

There
are fiercer and certainly more modern ships
,
but this old girl is mine,
Vernay thought
with an unbridled relish
.
  The airlock doors, having sensed Vernay’s
approach, opened obediently and she heard the “Ajax arriving” announcement
carry over the warship’s main channel.  The declaration brought a smile to her
lips. 
That should put some bodies in motion,
she thought wickedly while
thinking back to
Anelace
. 
Captain Heskan didn’t warn us either when
he stepped onboard the ship.
  Her smile diminished slightly with the
nostalgia of remembering Mike Riedel’s frantic run to meet their new captain. 
It seemed like a dozen lifetimes ago. 
Ajax’s
outer airlock doors closed
and her inner doors opened to reveal the interior of the former Brevic
officer’s new command.

“Room,
Tench-Hut!” cried the able spaceman attending the airlock control room. 
Although the Seshafian rank insignia looked strange, it was still
recognizable.  Seshafi, along with nearly all corporate navies, patterned its
ranks after the Solarian Federation.  The Brevic Republic, as a breakaway entity
of the Federation, followed likewise with the exception of a few, minor
differences in its officer rank structure.  The relative familiarity brought Vernay
a modicum of comfort.

“At
ease, Spaceman,” Vernay replied immediately and in a fashion that bore striking
resemblance to her mentor.

“Lieutenant
Commander Ricot is on his way, ma’am,” the spaceman announced as he relaxed
only marginally.  “If you wanted to wait, that is, ma’am.”

Vernay
looked toward the exit.  “I think I can meet him halfway,” she said.  “Keep up
the good work, sailor.”

Upon
exiting the room, Vernay realized she was uncertain which direction “halfway”
was.  She stood, alone, in the corridor and debated the best course.  To her
right was the nearest elevator that would take her to the mid-deck of the ship
and its bridge.  To the left were most of the officers’ berths. 
If I was
the first officer and I knew my new captain was due to report in soon, I
wouldn’t be caught dead in my quarters,
she judged and started toward the
elevator.

The
petite officer began to encounter more sailors after her hallway emptied into
the main corridor that ran the length of
Ajax
.  The looks on the passing
sailors usually began with the bewilderment of encountering an unfamiliar face on
their ship but quickly transformed into surprise as they realized they were
getting their first look at their new captain.  A few, intrepid souls were able
to issue polite, “Captain” greetings before she had passed.

Each
time the honorific rank was offered, her stoic demeanor threatened to collapse
into a comical grin. 
Is this how it feels for every new ship captain,
she
wondered.  The two sailors waiting for the elevator mysteriously decided upon
acceptable, alternate routes and Vernay found she stood alone.

A
few more moments later, the chime announced the arrival of the lift and its
door peeled back to spit out a Seshafian lieutenant commander dashing from the
compartment at full speed.  Only Vernay’s agility avoided a collision.  The man
continued hastily down the corridor while shouting a speedy apology before
comprehending his encounter.

Vernay
watched the man’s strides slow then grind to a halt before seeing her first
officer’s shoulders slump.  Without turning to face Vernay, he asked
matter-of-factly, “I just now almost bowled over my new captain, didn’t I?”

Vernay
did not resist this urge to grin.  “Yup.  Does the rest of the crew race to
battle stations as fast as you?”

“Yes,
but without the running people over part.”  The man finally turned to face
Vernay, his face bright red.  He approached her at a more suitable speed and
saluted.  “Lieutenant Commander Sam Ricot.”

Vernay returned his
salute with a Seshafian salute of her own—it felt strange to her even after
practicing for weeks.  “Stacy Vernay.”  She reached out a hand to him and
Ajax’s
captain and first officer shook for the first time.  “I can’t stay long, Sam,
but I couldn’t resist seeing Ajax in person and meeting you.  I’ve got sixty
minutes before a meeting on the orbital.”

*  *  *

Nearly
an hour later, Vernay arrived at a small conference room just before her
appointment walked in.  “Lieutenant Gables reports as ordered, ma’am.”  Gables
rendered a precise salute as she stood at attention.

Vernay
returned the salute quickly and fought the urge to make the environment less
formal. 
Garrett cautioned me not to be too casual with the officers below
me but, damn, this is hard.
  Her blue eyes glanced at the feet of the sub-lieutenant
standing before her.  The Seshafian naval uniform and dark boots covered any
hint of Gables’ cybernetics although her gait into the office had seemed a bit off.

“At
ease, Lieutenant,” Vernay instructed. 
I’ve known Denise almost my entire
career and she nearly died because of the order I gave.  How am I supposed to
remain detached when she’s become such a loyal and trusted friend?  And what
about Diane and Jack?  They know I’m not some great and almighty “Commander.” 
They’re all going to see right through me.

Gables’
hands shifted from the sides of her legs to behind her back as she moved to the
slightly more relaxed position of parade rest.  “What’s up, ma’am?” she asked
informally.

“How
are you recovering, Denise?”  Vernay could not help but ask.

Gables
smiled.  “Ahead of schedule,” she said easily.  “The stumps have completely
healed and I’ve taken to the implants well.”

Vernay
flinched at the brusqueness of Gables’ reference to her amputated feet and a
wave of guilt washed through her.  “Do you want to sit?”

“I’ve
been off my feet long enough, ma’am,” Gables replied without a trace of irony.

“The
Captain has a special assignment for the Kite Fifteen.  He wants me to run it
by you first since you’re the ranking pilot.”

Gables
tilted her head slightly and said, “Ma’am, that might be technically true
because my position in the VF was higher than the rest of the other survivors
but there are a lot of other junior grade lieutenants who share my date of
rank.  I’m their spokeswoman only because I’m not afraid to approach Captain
Heskan.”  Her lips twisted into a sardonic smile as she added, “Or you.”

What’s
that supposed to mean,
Vernay wondered.  “At any rate, by virtue of your standing among the pilots… in
fact, among the entire Brevic crew, the Captain considers you the leader of the
pilots.”

“Well,
I guess that makes it true then,” Gables accepted but added, “if we were still
pilots.”

Vernay seized upon
the initiative.  “That’s exactly what I want to talk to you about.”

*  *  *

A
short distance down the hall from Vernay’s meeting, Heskan studied the ten men
and women seated around the conference table in his new office.  It was the
same, extravagant office in which he had first encountered the late Admiral
Cooke.  Heskan did not have the time to redecorate and, instead, simply switched
the wall screen default images to strategic system maps of Sade and Seshafi
from their former settings of ancient, Terran wet navy ships.

To
his right, Captain Nguyen sat patiently.  The gold braid signifying his status
as a ship captain twisted its way from the front of his right shoulder
epaulette, underneath his arm and reconnected to his epaulette at the back.  Commander
Joseph Tannault sat immediately opposite of Nguyen.  The pair were in an amiable
discussion about Tannault’s brother, Peter, a former Seshafian naval officer
who had transferred to the Saden navy before the recent skirmish.  Both
brothers had survived the last battle unscathed.

Lieutenant
Jaynee Baldwin sat next to Lieutenant Covington.  Heskan eagerly agreed with
Nguyen to maintain both of the young lieutenants as ship captains.  Baldwin’s
corvette,
Honor
, sustained surprisingly little damage considering her
ship had sailed inside Heskan’s rear-turned-vanguard section.  Covington’s
snow,
Ravana
, on the other hand had been thoroughly smashed.  Only the
cannibalization of Heskan’s own shattered ship,
Elathra
, provided the
necessary parts to attempt to bring
Ravana
back from the dead.  Heskan
desperately wanted
Ravana
spaceworthy, not because of Covington’s desire
to have his first command back—that was never going to happen—but because
Seshafi needed every possible ship in the field.  Covington’s longing to
command
Ravana
again would go unfulfilled not only due to
Ravana’s
crippled status but also because the daring ship captain was slated to take
command of Captain Nguyen’s old brig,
Hawk
.

Farther
down the table, Lieutenant Chadsworth was in conversation with Lieutenants
Williams, Thomas and Harris.  While his companions had acquitted themselves
well under Heskan’s command, Chadsworth was something of an enigma. 
Fame’s
captain had showed obstinance during the battle, even borderline insubordination,
but fought his ship well and refused to strike his snow’s lights when many
other Seshafian captains had capitulated much earlier.  Although there was
temptation to replace the bellicose man, Heskan relented to Nguyen’s counsel
that removing a senior lieutenant who performed well in battle would create
impressions of favoritism.

Heskan
turned his attention to the opposite side of the table and thought,
There’s plenty
of those rumors going around because of these two.
 Lieutenants Selvaggio
and Truesworth sat next to each other, excitedly discussing the status of their
first commands.  Although initially shocked, both lieutenants had accepted their
ships with surprising professionalism.  No quips or sarcasm escaped
Truesworth’s mouth.  Likewise, Selvaggio accepted with muted resolve rather
than the self-deprecation Heskan would have expected six months ago.  Both
lieutenants assumed their new roles with a quiet confidence mixed with the
expected exuberance of youth.

The
ten men and women seated at the conference table, in addition to Vernay,
comprised AmyraCorp’s space defense force and shield of liberty.  The eleven
ship captains were all that stood between the homes and families living inside
the Seshafi star system and foreign aggression.  Augmented by various
privateers, this seemingly trivial safeguard had been enough to ensure that
AmyraCorp survived the last round with Sade.  However, with the rules of
corporate warfare rewritten by Admiral Wallace, this tender wisp of security
appeared to be little more than a speed bump on IaCom’s bent for conquest.

At
least the Iron Brigade is sending us ships,
Heskan thought as he reflected on the looming
battle. 
Maybe, after the outcome in Sade, other privateers will see that I
can play by the rules and they’ll be more willing to contract with us. 
Heskan
cleared his throat and the subtle request for silence was received. 
Conversations withered away and all eyes turned toward the head of the table.

“It
appears that Commander Vernay is running late,” Heskan recited.  “I will brief
her separately.”

Heskan
fiddled with the table controls and the inlaid screen flashed to life.  The
Sade star system was centered on a single M4II star.  The star was a common one
and the system itself, mundane.  Sade’s only remarkable features were her
inhabitants, industrious folk led by executives focused more on profit margins
than the well-being of the humans working for them.  The IaCom corporatocracy
was not particularly harsh or unfair, as was the case with some of the
corporate worlds closer to the Brevic Republic.  IaCom board members simply
insisted upon an unwavering commitment to the company above all else.  Heskan
could empathize as the Republic also relied upon nationalism to keep the point
of its spear well-honed.