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Ro-Lecton’s answering smile was also genuine. “Yes, well, I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this. I’d already planned to resign and go back to field work with Nila, uh, Doctor Kor-Nashta, so what they think is their strongest threat is really no threat at all. This is going to be fun.”

Kas shook his head and sighed. “I hope so, Doctor. However, I’ve got over three hundred people on two ships facing the largest battle fleet ever assembled. And I somehow have to defeat months of hostile, Empire-wide propaganda.”

They talked for over an hour, making plans, and considering alternatives and consequences. Finally, Ro-Lecton stood and stretched. “Well, Commodore, I wish you luck. But now, I think I’ll let you get to work disassociating yourself from me.” He picked up the list of board members. “And I have some homework to do.”

Kas sat lost in thought, for a few minutes. Then he had a minimum laser link established with Fleet Admiral Pankin. He explained the plan, and Pankin began to smile.

As soon as he disconnected the laser link, he had the Comm Officer connect him via normal radio comms. Both Pankin and Ro-Lecton had agreed with him that Ta-Lank was virtually certain to be monitoring the radio comms.

“Admiral,” he began when Pankin’s image appeared. “I must report a problem that may impact my ability to carry out my orders. Since he considers the mission complete, Doctor Ro-Lecton refuses to accept my authority over him and his people.”

Pankin frowned. “You mean he’s resisting your commands?” The Grand Admiral’s tone was ominous.

“No, sir,” Kas replied hastily, “that is, not exactly. He grants me only the authority of the captain of a ship on which he is a passenger. He and his people will obey any order relating to ship operation or safety — but he specifically refuses to recognize my authority to order him to comply with this senatorial medical board. He says that neither they nor I have authority over him. I think he’s going to refuse to cooperate with the board.”

“I see.” Pankin’s frown had deepened. “Well, I can certainly see his point. Officially, the salvage mission ended when you filed your report.” He shrugged. “Well, Commodore, Certainly no circumstances exist under which you could use force to compel obedience. As far as I can see, this is an issue between the medical team and the senate investigating committee. I will inform Senator Ta-Lank. You can hardly be held responsible for the behavior of civilians not under your command.”

In less than an hour, Ta-Lank was demanding to speak to Ro-Lecton. “I’m sorry, Senator,” the little man said. “I do not work for you, but directly for the Director of Public Health, a member of the Emperor’s Cabinet of Advisors. I have made my report to my superiors. I suggest you contact them if you desire a copy, and not bother me with a bunch of incompetents and has-beens.”

Ta-Lank looked incredulous. “You refuse to comply with a senatorial subpoena? Are you mad?”

Ro-Lecton was unfazed. “You appear to think so, sir. If you will transmit your subpoena, I will forward it to my superiors for their consideration. I’m sure that in due course, after consulting the appropriate legal authorities, they will advise me whether the Senate has the power to subpoena an official of a cabinet-level agency.”

Ta-Lank looked furious. “You know you’ll have to comply and testify. There have been several cases…”

Ro-Lecton simply shrugged. “Perhaps, sir. Nevertheless, it is my understanding that you are not ordering me to testify before your committee. I am informed that you have assembled some sort of board, comprised of medical so-called ‘experts’ of dubious ability and background, and actually expect me to give them access to our work. The very idea is ludicrous. However, when I’ve written this case up for publication in the Journal, I will be happy to send them a copy.”

“That board is comprised of recognized experts, and has been specifically empanelled by the Imperial Senate!”

Ro-Lecton only shrugged. “Perhaps. However, I am told that among the decisions you mentioned, there are none that mention or involve extra-governmental bodies such as your ‘Board of Incompetents’.” He controlled his face with an effort. “I’m sure that the Supreme Court can be persuaded to rule on your subpoena in, oh, two or three years.”

Ta-Lank glowered, his eyes radiating hatred. After several more threats and tirades, he signed off, slamming the button with a vengeance.

Ro-Lecton turned to Kas with a wide, genuine grin. “There, Commodore. Now you can concentrate on your own battles, and leave the medical war to me.”

Kas was looking at the little man with admiration. “There will be repercussions…”

Ro-Lecton nodded, the grin still wide. “I know. Moreover, I’m prepared for them. I think this is going to be the most fun I have had in years. Call it a rather spectacular method of resigning my position.”

Kas did have his own battles to fight. Day after day, he was called to testify. His report was analyzed word by word. Night after night, he watched the heavily edited newsie coverage. Obviously, the newsies were not being given raw tapes of the sessions, but were being fed carefully slanted excerpts. The coverage was limited to short “sound bites” — words and phrases taken out of context and matched to questions either never asked, or asked in another context. They were obviously looking for something with which to charge him.

Unfortunately, they weren’t having much luck. The days began to drag into weeks. Lady Jane and Lar Tennig testified voluntarily, though as Alliance citizens, they were not subject to subpoena by the committee. By the time they finished, the senators flanking Ta-Lank were looking more and more unhappy.

Chapter 18

His bedside clock read 0425 when a call from To-Ling awakened him. “I think you should come to the bridge, sir,” she said. “Someone’s trying to establish a laser com link with us. He’s being very mysterious, but he demands to speak to you, personally.”

Kas sighed. “All right, San. I’ll come. No, on second thought, pipe it to my cabin. How wide is the beam? Is it from Atropos?”

To-Ling shook her head. “No, sir, the beam isn’t coming from any of the Fleet ships. It seems to be coming from a launch outside the ring of ships. And it’s not military quality — the beam measures about three meters at our end.”

Kas rolled his eyes. “Oh, no! Not some damned newsie!” He slipped a tunic over his chest and sat down at the com unit. “Oh, well. Put it through, San.”

The man whose image appeared on Kas’ com screen was a newsie, all right. The handsome, carefully sculpted face and head of thick, wavy hair set in the latest Prime style revealed that, even before his caller began to speak.

Kas scowled. “All right, I’m Preslin. Who are you, and what do you want?” He grated. “I’m not giving any interviews.”

The professional smile on the husky young man’s face did not slip. “Oh, I recognize you, Hard Man Preslin,” the man began. “And much as I’d like an interview with you, that’s not why I’m calling.”

The nickname stopped Kas for a moment. One of his men had coined the nickname “Hard Man” in a bar. Kas hated it. However, few people outside Kas’ crews had heard it. His scowl faded to a suspicious frown.

“Last chance. Who are you, and what do you want?”

The man shrugged. “I’d rather not give you my name,” he replied. “I’m going to be violating the ethics of my profession, and I’d rather preserve as much of my anonymity as I can.”

Kas was puzzled. “What are you talking about? What ethics?”

The man broke into open laughter. “Oh, we do have some, Hard Man. Not many, but some. One of them is that we report the news — we don’t make it. I’m going to violate that by giving you, a participant, information that will almost certainly affect your actions.”