Sivettawas a beautiful miniature palace, filled with elaborate mosaics of complex, interwoven geometric figures that dazzled and bewildered the eye, and managed to be more dazzling and bewildering the longer Sula looked at them. The crew was Torminel, but since Eldey had Terran aides, there were furniture and acceleration couches suitable for Terrans, and a cook who could assist her own cook, Rizal, in providing food other than raw meat served at blood temperatures. Sula had given Rizal money for food shopping before they’d left Zanshaa, and brought up as well a large collection of wine and spirits donated by the grateful merchants of the High City—an odd gift for someone who didn’t drink, Sula thought, but she supposed she’d spend time entertaining, and so the wine would come in handy.
Not that she expected to spend much time enjoying the yacht’s comforts. She would be enduring long periods of high gee asSivetta caught up withConfidence, which was orbiting the Zanshaa system with the rest of the Orthodox Fleet.
Among the information sent her by Tork’s staff was an order of battle for the Orthodox Fleet. Scanning it, her eye immediately lit on the flagship of Michi Chen’s Cruiser Squadron 9—Illustrious,Captain Lord Gareth Martinez.
At the name, her heart gave a surge.
The last she’d heard of Martinez, he had become Michi Chen’s tactical officer. Now he actually commanded the flagship.
She wondered how many ofIllustrious ‘s people had to die or be captured by the enemy in order to accomplish that. It was how Martinez seemed to get his promotions.
Her own ship,Confidence, was probably the smallest vessel that Tork could have offered her, a frigate with fourteen missile launchers, and it was normally an elcap’s command. Possibly, Tork had hoped she would refuse the appointment as beneath her dignity. If so, he would now be thumping the walls in chagrin.
Confidencewas a part of Light Squadron 17, a formation made up of five Terran frigates and four Torminel light cruisers, all of them commanded by lieutenant captains—which meant that as a full captain, she was now senior officer of the squadron and its commander, so long as Tork made no other dispositions.
Tork, she realized, had decided not to offer a heavy cruiser, normally the province of a captain, but instead given her an entire squadron. This act of unexpected generosity struck her at first as a trap of some kind, though she couldn’t imagine what it would be. Did Tork expect that she’d fail in a squadron command, when she’d been mistress of an entire world? And then it occurred to her that the assignment might simply be an oversight. Tork had a lot on his mind: maybe it had slipped his mind that he’d handed her nine ships.
But on further thought, that didn’t seem likely. A master of detail like Tork would not have made such a mistake.
Maybe Lord Eldey’s support, complete with the loan of his yacht, had made Tork cautious about offending any of her powerful supporters, and therefore made him generous. Or perhaps he’d simply decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Clan Sula was one of the oldest and—at least until recently—most distinguished families of Peers. Maybe Tork assumed that her genes would bring her into line.
She gained a better idea of Tork’s motivations once she contacted her new command. FromSivetta she sent messages to each ship, requesting a full report on their status plus the data on the latest squadron maneuvers.
The ships were in good order and, according to their officers, in an excellent state of training. Sula hadn’t expected the officers to say anything else, and assumed the data from the maneuvers would give her an idea of the real situation.
The maneuvers showed ships moving in close formation, each move scripted well in advance. The side declared the victor of the maneuver had known it would win before the maneuver even started. Some of the squadron’s ships were a bit late or awkward in their course changes, but there was nothing very wrong with their performance.
What was wrong was the sort of thing they had to perform in the first place.
Now she knew why Tork had given her command of a squadron. Shackled to the old tactical system, her presence as squadron commander would make little difference. The worse she could do was bungle the maneuvers of her own ship, since the rest would be locked in their standard formations.
Martinez, she thought,can’t you do anythingright? You’d think he would have sold at least a few people on their new tactical system by now.
She sighed. Clearly she had to do it herself.
She took a long deep breath against the two-gravity acceleration, raised her heavy hands to the display attached to her deluxe, luxurious acceleration couch, and busied herself withSivetta ‘s tactical computer. It was a machine as sophisticated as those used in Fleet warships, though without the proper database: she had to program in the characteristics of missiles from memory.
She contacted Lord Alan Haz,Confidence ‘s first lieutenant. “I’d like the squadron to undertake an experiment,” she said. “What I intend is a free-form type of maneuver with no fixed outcome. Just do your best against the threat I’ve programmed into the scenario. In order to run it, you’ll have to add a patch to your tactical program—I’ll be sending that.”
The first time Martinez had tried to run the new system inCorona ‘s computer, the tactical program had crashed. One of his officers—the one who had run off with PJ’s fiancée, she recalled—had created a software patch that solved the problem.
“You’ll be commanding the squadron fromConfidence, ” Sula went on. “I’ll expect a report when you’re done, as well as the raw data. Good luck.”
After sending the message, the scenario, and the software patch, she tried, in the heavy gravity, to relax onto the acceleration couch. It sent miniwaves pulsing along her back, massaging sore muscles and preventing blood from pooling.
Her reply came some hours later. Lieutenant Haz was a well-scrubbed, square-shouldered man with the look of a person who had been a popular athlete in school. He had a deep, impressive voice and a tailored uniform that looked soft and rich even on video.
“Thank you for the scenario, my lady. Lord Tork has scheduled no maneuvers for tomorrow, so we’ll be able to implement it then.” His look turned earnest. “I also appreciate your confidence in placing me in charge of the squadron. Thank you, my lady.”
He ended the communication. Sula figured that Haz would be less thankful the next time she heard from him.
She looked at the chronometer over her head and saw that it was over an hour before the ship’s acceleration decreased to one gravity.
Over an hour till the next pee break.
She would try to endure.
“It was…well, frankly, it was a disaster.” Chagrin drew Haz’s mouth into a tight line. “We were wiped out. The enemy used tactics that we didn’t understand. We ran the scenario three times. The best results came when we starburst early—at least we took a few of the enemy with us that time.”
Haz’s distress was so evident that Sula felt something like sympathy for how she’d tricked him. She had created a computer-controlled opposition force to battle Squadron 17, and though the enemy was equal in force, she’d programmed them with the new tactics. She’d just sent her own Squadron 17 into an ambush.
“My condolences on the results of the experiment,” she sent in reply. “I have another experiment I would like you to undertake as soon as your other duties permit. I will broadcast the scenario at once.”