Before any of them could reply, he had turned away to address his Exec, leaving the three new arrivals to Kevin Tolwyn.
“One of my men will see to the rest of the passengers,” Kevin said. “I’ll show you to the quarters we’ve set aside for you. I’m afraid they’re not exactly up to standard flag rank issue.”
“Give me a bunk and a computer terminal and I’ll be happy as a Cat in a sandbox,” Richards said. The elder Tolwyn grunted agreement.
The quarters were part of a refurbished section of the carrier. In Bondarevsky’s day they had housed storerooms for munitions spares, but those stores were evidently in a new section two decks below the flight deck, allowing this expansion of available berths. “Old Max ordered the changes himself,” the younger Tolwyn explained as he showed the first cabin to his uncle and the others. “Word is he expected to use the boat as his own personal flagship, and wanted the bunk space for his staff. But that all fell through, leaving us with extra VIP quarters no one expected to use until we got this new assignment.”
Once the two admirals had been shown their berths, Kevin led Bondarevsky to another cabin close by. “All yours, Bear,” he said with a smile, entering the keycode to open the door. “I know it’s not the captain’s suite, where you belong, but hopefully it’ll do for the time being.“
“It’s fine, Kevin,” Bondarevsky said. He tossed his bag on the bunk and did a double-take as something moved against the space-black blanket. “Well, hello, who’s this?”
Tolwyn reached down and picked up a bundle of black fur. “The official Independence reception committee. Jason, meet Thrakhath. He’s one of our ship’s cats.”
The black cat opened a pair of startling green eyes and studied Bondarevsky suspiciously. After a moment the cat started to purr loudly, obviously glad of the attention Tolwyn was giving his neck and ears.
Bondarevsky chuckled. “Thrakhath, huh? Does he know he’s royalty?”
“Absolutely,” Tolwyn replied, returning the cat to the bed. “He finds his way into just about every corner of the ship, usually through the ventilation system…though some of us think he can walk through walls when he wants to. But he’s staked out this deck as his personal territory. If you don’t want him slipping in here and bothering you, we’ll install a screen he can’t get through.”
“Nonsense,” Bondarevsky replied. “I can use the company.” He paused, then looked Tolwyn in the eye. “It was a bit of a surprise finding you out here, you know. Your uncle didn’t mention anything about it.”
“He didn’t?” Kevin frowned, then shrugged. “Well, you know how he’s been lately. Won’t let his right hand know what the left one’s doing for fear it’ll break under interrogation. Fact is, I’ve been here since just after the end of the war-stayed just long enough to see the court-martial verdict, then shipped out to sign on with Old Max and his gang of cutthroats.”
“At the admiral’s suggestion?”
“Yeah.” Tolwyn frowned again. “I don’t know what it is that’s had him so worried, but he seemed to think it was a good idea for me to get out of Earthspace for a while. And Wing Commander on a Landreich carrier sure as hell beats being a major on the staff back home.”
“How much do you know about the mission?”
“We’re supposed to salvage a Kilrathi derelict that could be protected by hostiles,” Tolwyn responded. “Should be an easy enough job.” He paused, his innocent, open features reddening. “Look, Bear, you rank me six ways from Sunday even in the Landreich’s Navy. I could step down as Wing Commander if you wanted to do something more than twiddle your thumbs on the flight out…”
“Forget it, Lone Wolf. You’ve earned the spot.”
“It’s just a damned shame they couldn’t give you Tarawa. Independence. Whatever. Or at least her fighter wing. It’s just…wrong for you to be a passenger aboard the old girl.”
“Don’t you worry about it,” Bondarevsky told him. “Just seeing her again is enough for me. And if we end up trying to put that Kilrathi monstrosity back in business, I’ll be glad enough of the vacation time.” He hesitated. “But…look, Kevin, thanks for making the offer. It means a lot.”
“I owe you big-time, Bear,” Tolwyn told him. “When I signed on with you before the Kilrah raid I was a spoiled brat who didn’t have any idea what to do with his life. You made me into a proper officer, and a pilot, and a man I don’t mind seeing in the mirror every morning when I shave, and I won’t forget that.”
“Presidential Shuttle on final approach.” The blare of the public address system kept Bondarevsky from having to respond to the younger officer’s words. “Welcoming party, lay down to the flight deck.”
“I suppose that includes VIPs,” Bondarevsky commented.
“Well, it certainly includes Wing Commanders,” Kevin said. “Question is, will our beloved Captain Gall-Bladder claim you and our two admirals as ‘his’ VIPs? He’s very acquisitive, is our CO. A veritable interstellar pack-rat.”
“You don’t sound too happy with him,” Bondarevsky commented as they started down the corridor together.
“Still a marvel of deduction, eh, Bear?” Tohvyn cracked a smile. “Let’s just say that I’d like it if the skipper of this boat measured up to the standards of an earlier captain I might name. And I’m damned tired of being ‘his’ Wing Commander. In theory we’re supposed to be equals under the Battle Group CO, but he makes me feel like I’m one of his daddy’s lackeys.”
“Since he’s here and not in the Flag Officer’s suite, I take it Admiral Richards isn’t commanding the Battle Group.”
“No. Old Max decided to make the derelict the hub for a separate squadron if and when she goes operational, and Admiral Richards’ll be in charge of that. Admiral Campanelli’s in charge of the Independence battle group, but he doesn’t show himself much. The man’s the senior flag officer on the fleet list, over seventy but still refusing retirement. And because he’s the biggest war hero next to Old Max that the Landreich’s got, nobody even thinks about easing him aside to let a younger man take over. He’s a pretty good man even yet, but he’s been sick off and on ever since I signed aboard, and lets Galbraith do most of the work running the battle group.” Tolwyn grinned. “Might almost be better if Old Max did take to space again.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Bondarevsky told him. “Your admiral might be old and sick, but Kruger’s just plain crazy. I still remember the stunt he pulled to get us into the Battle of Earth on time. Hit the last jump point at full speed. Half the fleet overshot the target jump point, and a couple of ships ended up with their bows twenty light-years from their sterns.”
“It got you to Earth on time,” Tolwyn pointed out.
“Yeah…but the man’s still crazy. Doesn’t care about the odds, or the possibilities. Just charges in with guns blazing, and be damned to anybody who gets in his way.”
“Sounds to me like you approve of him, underneath it all,” Tolwyn told him as they reached the lift that would take them up to the flight deck.
Emerging back onto the open area, they joined the two admirals at the fringe of the captain’s welcoming party and watched the Presidential shuttle slipping gently through the force field to settle on the deck close by. Bondarevsky noted that the shuttle bore the name San Jacinto, after Kruger’s old ship that he’d used to launch his mutiny and his subsequent career. He wondered what Richards thought of it. Vance Richards had been the young commander of Kruger’s squadron when Old Max had committed his act of defiance. He sometimes claimed it was Kruger’s act that had blotted his service record and earned him a transfer to Intelligence.
The shuttle door opened, and once again the bosun’s whistle greeted the arrival of the VIP visitor. This time it was accompanied by a recorded band playing something stately and elegant, presumably some Baroque fanfare that was part of the normal greeting for Landreich’s President.