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"I suspect that was Paladin's doing. He somehow guessed or knew she would go to McDaniel."

"Well, can he guess her next destination?"

Tolwyn cocked a brow. "Maybe. He's aboard the Olympus right now."

"He's where?" Bellegarde sat up and shifted to the edge of the sofa.

"According to Gerald, Commodore Taggart headed down to McDaniel to find Aristee. While en route, he communicated with some Pilgrims on planet, maybe even Aristee herself, and was instructed to return to the Olympus and given clearance to land. The cruiser jumped with him and Lieutenant Blair on board."

"Blair? If Paladin went there to negotiate, why'd he take the kid?"

"I'm not sure. I assume there's another reason besides Mr. Blair being half Pilgrim." Tolwyn stared into a thought, then abruptly said, "I have a feeling that something's gone terribly wrong."

"Well, then, it's all about our swift reaction."

"Which is why I'm here, seeking the advice of a drunk." Tolwyn's grin defused the blow to Bellegarde's ego.

"Sir, given Aristee's jump capability, pursuing her now without Paladin's help is a waste of time and resources. We have to do something to bring her to us."

Tolwyn's eyes lit, the glimmer lasting but a second. "I just spoke with the space marshal this morning. She said the press is having its proverbial field day with this, and that senators from nearly all Confed worlds are advising their constituents of Pilgrim ancestry to seek shelter at designated sites. This, I'm told, is being done for their safety."

"Those reporters and politicians are adding kindling to a fire that doesn't need it. And I'd like to see one of those 'designated sites.' Why don't they call them what they are-interment camps?"

"They don't have to. Anyway, it's clear that the situation back home is becoming more tenuous. We have to put down Aristee now. If she causes any more deaths, this witch hunt will reach a fever pitch. We can't afford that. And we can't afford to tarnish our image any further. Our budget requests are already in jeopardy."

"It all comes down to policy and perception," Bellegarde said acidly. "I shouldn't be surprised. I should be happy. I joined the Confederation with my fancy Ivy League degrees, but I just missed the first Pilgrim war. Now I'm getting my shot. But this… I have a feeling Aristee knows something about the Confederation, about all of this, that we don't. What she's doing… it might be bigger than all of us."

"Don't get paranoid and melodramatic on me, Richard. What she's doing is remaining true to herself and her cause. Few of us are so lucky." He sighed deeply. "I've had doubts about military service all of my life. My family thought I was a fool for not pursuing a career in business. I've often thought about that life, but more lives seem to be ruined rather than saved by money. Then again, war has a similar effect." Tolwyn thought a moment more, then straightened. "So how do you propose we bring Captain Aristee to us?"

"That, sir, will involve risking both of our careers." Tolwyn beamed at the challenge.

Angel exited the lift and moved onto the Tiger Claw's bridge. She fought to secure her gloomy expression, but judging from the worried looks of the command and control staff, she was failing miserably. Lieutenant Commander Obutu wore the deepest look of concern. The sturdy black man rose from his station to greet her at the railing along the bridge's aft section. "Commander, we don't know each other well, but-"

"Call me Angel," she muttered quickly.

"Yes, ma'am. I was just wondering if you'd like to join a few of us tonight. We've got a mean card game going on. Mostly command staff. You'd fit right in. We meet in the wardroom at twenty-one-hundred."

She returned a weak grin. "I'll think about it. Thanks for the invite."

As Obutu stepped back to his station, Angel lowered her gaze and crossed to Captain Gerald, who sat in his command chair, absently stroking his chin in thought. "Captain, I received your request, but at this time I cannot recommend anyone in my squadron for a promotion."

"You don't have much of a squadron left," Gerald said soberly. "Lieutenant Blair is now aboard the Olympus. And Lieutenant Marshall, well, I've added his name to those we will honor at the memorial service. Despite his frequent and often blatant insubordination, he was one hell of a pilot. I'll miss that much about him."

"Sir, may we speak in private?"

His brows rose, then he pushed himself out of the chair. She followed him through a hatch and into the shadowy confines of the map room, a rectangular cabin dimly illumined by holo projectors and data screens on standby.

Gerald found a control console on which to lean and regarded her with piercing eyes. "Commander?"

"Sir, I was just curious if you knew why the commodore requested Lieutenant Blair's company."

"Interesting question, considering the scuttlebutt regarding you and Mr. Blair. He was twice seen slipping into your quarters."

She whirled toward the hatch. "Sorry to have bothered you."

"Right there, Commander. We need to have this conversation."

Slowly, she turned back, faced him, but remained rigid, part of her still traveling toward the hatch.

"I've never enforced the standing reg against fraternization. It goes on. It's a necessary evil. I'm okay with it. But if it compromises my ship or her crew, then I will brig the participants. Now then, Admiral Tolwyn has ordered us to break off from our pursuit of the Olympus, which, I might add, works in your favor. I wouldn't feel comfortable sending you out against her with Blair and Paladin still aboard."

The news came as a cold wind that chilled Angel to the marrow. "Sir, has Paladin already convinced Aristee to stand down?"

"I don't think so."

"Then why are we breaking off?"

"The admiral has given us new orders. We're going to Hell's Kitchen. We're to assume a high orbit of the third planet, Nether — anya, and await instructions."

"There's a Pilgrim enclave there. I think it's called Triune."

Gerald nodded. "I'm sure the admiral is positioning the rest of the fleet near the other Pilgrim enclaves. He's taking the Concordia battle group to McDaniel, and sending two others to Faith and Promise."

"Why would Aristee go back to McDaniel or the other systems?"

"I'm no mind reader, and even if I were, I doubt that I could make sense of a mind as complex as the admiral's," Gerald confessed. "I wish we were better informed, but that's the admiral's style. When we need to know, we'll know."

"Is that also the commodore's style?"

"He never told me why he took Lieutenant Blair along. And to be frank, I never questioned him. He said you had already approved, and it seemed like an excellent idea to me."

"Sir?"

"Let's just say that Lieutenant Blair will provide a counterweight to the commodore's mission."

"Which is…"

"I'm not sure if even the admiral knows."

"Well, I owe that man my life," Angel said, remembering how Paladin had saved her when she had ejected in her life pod. "Still, I understand your feelings, and I did find it rather odd that Aris-tee gave him clearance to land so quickly."

"It didn't surprise me at all." He read the question on her face, but instead of answering, he pushed himself off the console and checked his watchphone. "We'll be jumping in about five hours. I've scheduled another briefing for the department heads at sixteen-thirty. Is there anything else I can do for you, Commander?"

"No, sir."

Fifteen minutes later, Angel sat at her desk and rested her head on an arm. She couldn't believe that Christopher Blair had so quickly vanished from her life. She could easily cling to the pathetic hope that he would return, keep those candles lit for him, but she knew better. Those candles would do no more than burn.

Over the years, she had grown accustomed to being abandoned by those she loved. Her parents had been killed in the Pilgrim War, and the sisters who had raised her were little more than disciplinarians employed at an orphanage. Then, at sixteen, Mikhail had kissed her good-bye and had joined the Confederation Marines. Six months later she had learned of his death. The Kilrathi had torn him apart so thoroughly that only through dental work and dog tags could he be identified. Angel had fallen to her knees and had vowed never to love again.