Misery at losing his squadron warred in Martinez with rage on behalf of Sula. She might be murderous, insolent, and insane, but she and her squadron had performed brilliantly, losing fewer ships than any other formation and inflicting far greater harm on the enemy.
“I believe Tantu is senior, my lord,” Michi said. “But wouldn’tSplendid make a more logical member of the heavy squadron?”
“I desire that Captain Sula be superseded,” Tork said. “She disobeyed my express orders and starburst early during the battle. She refused to reform when ordered to do so. I want a loyal captain in charge who will bring her to proper obedience.”
Martinez could see that Michi was on the verge of offering further comment, but then decided against it.
“Yes, my lord,” she said. “Do you need help? Shall I send a vessel to bring you off theUrhug?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Tork said. “I’ve suffered spinal damage and the doctor says I shouldn’t be subjected to high accelerations. I am told thatJudge Urhug will have one engine repaired within twenty-nine hours, and that should provide a slow deceleration that will put me on the Magaria ring station about the time that the fast-healer hormones have repaired my injuries. Now that communication has been restored, my staff and I can continue to run the Righteous and Orthodox Fleet of Vengeance from theUrhug, at least for the present.”
Would Tork never give up? Martinez wondered. Would he never die, retire, check himself into the Fleet hospital, blow his brains out?
Would Tork never get out of Martinez’s way?
“I wish you to demand the surrender of Magaria and the enemy fleet,” Tork said. “Though I very much derire to issue the ultimatum myself, the fact of its coming from a near-derelict ship might reduce its impact.”
Not to mention attract enemy missiles.
Martinez was cast in gloom for the rest of the conversation, and then the planning session that followed. Finally Michi dropped her coffee cup into its saucer and gave him a severe look.
“Cheer up, will you?” she said. “We’re alive, we’ve won the battle, we’ll win the next.”
“Yes, my lady,” Martinez agreed.
“And Tork’s arrangements will last only until we pass through Wormhole Five. After that, I can arrange the fleet to my liking, and you’re just the acting squadron commander who can whip our provisional light squadron into shape and teach it the tactics that will win us a victory at Naxas.”
Martinez paused a moment while a carillon rang changes of joy through his head. Michi grinned.
“That’s better,” she said.
Sula took her supersession with equanimity. She had defied Tork, flouted his death sentence, then rubbed salt into his wounds by blowing up sixteen enemy ships at the cost of two of her own. There wasn’t an officer in the fleet who hadn’t seen the superiority of Ghost Tactics demonstrated on their very own tactics displays.
She hoped Tork was furious. She hoped he was raving. She hoped that every time he thought of her, he sprayed angry spittle over everyone in the Flag Officer Station.
All Tork could do in response to her defiance was put a nobody like Carmody of theSplendid over her. If an officer of hers had defied her the way she’d defied Tork, she would have thought of something much more interesting to do with him.
Splendidshouldered its way into Squadron 17 like a prizefighter moving through a crowd of schoolchildren. Sula was having tea in her little bare-walled office when the new squadcom called.
Or rather, his communications officer. Sula looked at the wall display and saw the handsome face of Jeremy Foote.
“Hello, Foote,” she said. “How’s the formula?”
He flushed. “Captain Carmody to speak with you.”
Carmody appeared, a blocky-looking man with ginger whiskers. Behind him Sula saw rich arculé paneling. He was presumably calling from his quarters, which would allow her to be frank.
“Yes, my lord,” Sula said. “How may I help you?”
“I wanted to speak with you personally,” Carmody said. “I want you to know that I did not seek this appointment, and in fact was rather surprised by it.”
“I think we all were, my lord,” Sula said cheerfully.
“Ye-es.” Carmody’s brow furrowed, as if he had lost his place in the conversation and was trying to find it again. “I witnessed Squadron Seventeen’s performance in the battle,” he said after a moment, “and I hope I can perform as well.”
“You won’t,” Sula said, “if you obey Lord Tork’s orders.” She took a sip of the tea, sweetened as she liked it with cane syrup, and then looked at Carmody’s startled face. “Tell me, my lord, did the Supreme Commander give you any instructions regarding me?”
He blinked at her with puzzled blue eyes. “No. None. What do you mean?”
“I mean he wants me killed. I mean he sent Squadron Seventeen into combat without proper support. Surely you noticed.”
Expressions danced across Carmody’s face. His eyes showed surprise while his mouth showed shock. His mouth showed surprise while his eyes showed denial. Then his brow showed thought while his jaw showed resolution.
“Of course not, Captain,” he said. “Why would the fleetcom do such a thing?”
“It’s rather a long story,” Sula said. “But I think Lord Tork feels that the empire would be better off without me. He can’t get rid of me—another long story—but he thinks it would be just as well if the Naxids sent me to my reward.”
Carmody visibly calmed himself. “I can assure you the Supreme Commander has implied no such thing in any communication with me. In any case, I would decline any such directive when the life of a fellow officer is at stake.”
Sula found herself rather touched by this brotherly declaration.
“Thank you, my lord. I appreciate your goodwill.” She took another sip of tea, and wondered if she’d just convinced Carmody that she was crazy. She put down her teacup.
“Did Lord Tork give you instructions regarding tactics to be employed against the enemy?”
“He said he would permit no innovations.”
Sula gave a slow nod. “You served in a squadron that permitted no innovations, a squadron that suffered casualties so severe that it had to be broken up. I don’t envy you your choices, my lord.”
Carmody looked uncertain. The conversation had taken another unexpected turn.
“Ah—perhaps not.” Probably not even Carmody knew what he meant by this answer.
“I was able to use Ghost Tactics because I knew that Lord Tork wanted me dead anyway. I had nothing to lose. Whereasyou — if you act to prevent a slaughter of your own crews, you may earn the Supreme Commander’s undying enmity. But if you don’t use Ghost Tactics, your command could be slaughtered, and you with it.”
Carmody’s face did that little dance again. Sula tried to keep her smile hidden behind her eyes.
Of the many possibilities raised by her words, Carmody decided to focus on what was probably the safest.
“Ghost Tactics?” he asked.
“I’ll send you the formula, and the lecture I prepared for the squadron.” She smiled. “Even if you choose not to use them, at least you’ll be able to understand what the other captains are talking about.”
Michi demanded surrender, and Magaria gave it. The Naxid fleet, possessing more choice in the matter, did not. It wasn’t clear whether the enemy commander was still Dakzad, since no one responded to Michi’s ultimatum.
Probably Dakzad was dead, Martinez thought. He hadn’t tried to argue ideology or give Michi orders.
Michi put Magaria in the charge of Junior Fleet Commander Jinja, who had been captured there on the first day of the rebellion and held in a prison on the surface ever since. She also ordered all Naxid military and security personnel to surrender their arms and evacuate the ring.