"Put me through to Villeneuve," the Chu-sa said flatly. "Immediately."
Plamondon drew back at the harsh tone. Are you well, Chu-sa ? This v-feed is quite poor, but I don't believe you're on the command deck of an Astronomer -class cruiser…
"I have no time for you, Plamondon. Put me through to the admiral."
Watch your tongue, Hadeishi! The flag officer looked off screen for a moment. Sweat beaded along his collar and hairline. Has your ship been attacked? Are you injured? What happened to the freighters in orbit? Do you need combat support?
"My ship has been severely damaged," the Chu-sa snarled, rising up. His mutilated face came into clearer view on the v-feed pickup and the Frenchman recoiled. "My crew slaughtered, hundreds of common spacers murdered on two independent freighters and perhaps thousands of Imperial citizens killed, wounded or driven into flight on the planet below. Now put the admiral on the comm!"
Plamondon blanched momentarily, but then he rallied, outraged by the hectoring tone in the junior officer's voice. You do not demand things of the admiral! You will calm down and deliver a proper status report, Chu-sa, or you will be relieved of command!
"Will I?" Hadeishi started to laugh, making a horrible croaking sound. "My ship is crippled, Frenchman. There's been a full-scale revolt on the planet and I doubt the Army will give you a polite greeting either! Now, put Villeneuve on the channel and he can explain to me, face to face, why seventy of my crew died for no reason at all! Why you abandoned us here with a ship in desperate need of repair to jaunt off to a planet where I'm sure there was exactly nothing going on, until you were told to return!"
Told? That's a lie - The flag captain's voice chilled. You are making accusations -
"I am," Hadeishi interrupted, voice rising steadily. "One of those freighters was a Xochiyaotinime covert operations ship – this entire war was a flowery excuse for certain officers to be promoted and get good marks on their combat record for bravery and expedient dispatch of the enemy! A safe way to move up!"
Plamondon turned a sickly shade of parchment white. That is insane! What are you implying? We've no knowledge of -
Hadeishi stabbed his hand off-screen, pointing out to spinward, beyond the indisinict frontier of the Empire. "If your curst admiral wants battle, he should go hunting Khaid or Megair in the empty systems beyond the Rim! Then he can see how real battle feels! Then he can watch the dead pile up in Medical, hanging in the hallways like sides of rotted beef! Then he can buy his precious medals with honest bl -"
A slim hand, still gloved in the matte black of a Fleet z-suit, slashed down on the Chu-sa's panel, severing the connection.
"What?" Hadeishi blinked away tears, trying to force himself up from the chair. Another hand pressed into his chest, holding him prisoner. "Why did you do that?"
Susan Kosho stared at him, the corners of her mouth tight with anger, eyes fierce. "What are you doing? Have you lost all sense of self-preservation?"
"They betrayed us," Hadeishi whispered, feeling his last vestige of strength drain away, leaking from arms, legs, and chest like a spilled jar, leaving him hollow and spent. "We were chosen to die – as soon as we arrived, they saw our service jacket – they knew we could be cast aside without cost…"
Kosho leaned close, trying to catch the last of his words, but the Chu-sa fell silent. The lieutenant commander looked around the bridge, saw the two midshipmen were staring back at her with ashen faces and gave them both a steady, fulminating glare.
"I am taking the Chu-sa to Medical. Remain at your posts. If anyone calls from the Tehuia, inform them we're heavily damaged, the captain is wounded and I will call them back as soon as the situation has stabilized."
Two-Dog nodded weakly and hunched over her station, concentrating fixedly on the display.
Kosho levered back the arms of the shockchair and gently eased her captain up. He seemed very small and frail. In z-g, she could carry him under one arm, kicking from stanchion to stanchion. The corridor outside was blackened with fire damage and nothing seemed to be working, but after years of service aboard she could find her way through the ship by touch if need be.
Instinctively, she moved up-ship, heading for the Chu-sa's cabin, but just past bulkhead sixteen, she found the passageway blocked by a temporary pressure seal. Everything beyond the damage control barrier seemed to be in ruins. Guiding his limp body ahead of hers with one hand, Susan turned aside, descended the gangway to the portside hallway and found herself, fifteen minutes later, at the door to her own cabin.
The pressure door had lost power, but she managed to force the panel aside and drifted in, head-lamp glowing on the walls and glancing across her personal effects. For a wonder, everything seemed to be intact. The tiny pair of rooms had not lost pressure or suffered fire damage. Her collection of hand-sized paintings of Imperial Court ladies was crooked on the wall, but still intact.
Kosho bundled the Chu-sa onto her bed and tucked a cotton quilt around him, strapping the edges down to hold him in place. Hadeishi's eyes were still open and staring into the darkness, but he said nothing. Worried, she tacked the lamp to one wall, letting the beam shine up on a section of patterned silk covering the overhead. White-winged herons and cranes interlocked in a delicate geometric pattern. The reflected beam suffused the room with a soft, greenish light.
Her helmet came undone with a soft click and Kosho wrinkled her nose at the smell of burned plastic and electrical insulation tainting the air. Her medband said the atmosphere was breathable, though chill. Turning off her comm, she unlatched the captain's helmet as well, letting his frayed gray-black hair float loose on her pillow. The bed was very narrow, but just wide enough to sit by his side, one booted foot braced against the desk to hold her in place.
"What happened to you?" Susan brushed greasy hair out of his eyes, her fingertips gentle on the patches of gel covering burns on his face. "What happened to our ship?"
Slowly, Hadeishi's eyes turned towards her. They seemed empty, as if his soul had fled already, leaving only a pale, drained husk behind. Weary, he swallowed to clear his throat. "I made a terrible mistake, Susan. I thought we would be safe once the ship was home – once we were in Imperial space."
"A mistake?" Kosho's forehead wrinkled with a single sharp crease. "A saboteur rigged the satellites in orbit as mines – Helsdon and Felix found the power plants had been replaced. No one could have -"
"Months ago." Hadeishi said. "Months ago. Do you…do you remember the day the malfunctioning message drone reached us?"
"In the dead G-4 system beyond Kahlinkiat? Yes, radiation had damaged the -"
"I wiped the drone message store," Hadeishi said, so softly she could barely make out the words. "Or most of it, anyway. The common news, the things the men look forward to, those I left intact…but not the personnel and fleet orders. I erased them all."
"That is impossible." Susan pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. He was icily cold. "Only the ship's political officer has…" Her eyes widened and horror crept into her expression. "Hummingbird gave you the control codes when he left us at Mimixcoa?"
Hadeishi nodded, making the thin, worn linen on the pillow rustle.
"I wanted…the orders…" He stopped speaking for a moment, gathering his strength. "We were ordered home, Susan, to report to Toroson as soon as possible."