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So it was that Fargeon’s annual Fitness Report, which he showed her before filing it, startled her.

“Clear-headed, resourceful, good initiative, outstanding self-discipline: this young officer requires only seasoning to develop into an excellent addition to any Fleet operation. Unlike many who rest on past achievements, this officer does not let success go to her head, and can be counted on for continued effort. Recommended for earliest promotion eligibility.” Sassinak looked up from this to find Fargeon’s face relaxed in a broad smile for the first time in her memory.

“Just as I said the first day. Ensign Sassinak: if you realize that you can’t ever start at the top, and if you continue to show your willingness to work, you’ll do very well indeed. I’d be glad to have you in my command again, any time.”

“Thank you, sir.” Sassinak wondered whether to strain this approval by telling him what she suspected about Achael and Abe’s death. “Sir, about Lieutenant Achael - “

“All information will go to Fleet Security - do you have something which you did not put in your tape?”

She had included her suspicion that Achael had murdered Abe, but would anyone take it seriously? “It’s in there, sir, but - about my guardian, who was killed - “

“Abe, you mean.” The captain permitted himself a tight smile. “A good man. Fleet to the bone. Well, this is not for discussion. Ensign, but I would agree with your surmise. Achael was a prisoner on the same slaver base where you and Abe were; the most logical supposition is that Abe knew something about his conduct or treatment there which would have been dangerous to Achael. Perhaps he was deep-conditioned, or something. He killed Abe to keep his secret, and suspected that Abe might have told you something.”

“But what might be behind Achael?” asked Sass. But with this question, she had gone too far. The captain’s face closed again, although he did not seem angry.

“That’s for Security to determine, when they have all the evidence. Myself, I suspect that he was merely protecting himself. Suppose Abe knew he had stolen from other prisoners - that would ruin his Fleet career. I would be willing to wager that the final report will conclude that Achael was acting in his own behalf when he killed Abe and attempted to incriminate you.”

Sassinak was not convinced, but knew better than to argue. As Fargeon predicted. Fleet Security agreed with his surmise, and closed the file on the murder. Achael’s attacks on Sassinak, and his suicide, made a clear pattern with his years as a prisoner: too clear, Sassinak thought, too simple. When she was older, when she had rank, she promised herself, she’d find out who was really responsible for Abe’s death, who had set Achael on his trail. For now, she’d honor his memory with her own success.

BOOK THREE

Chapter Eight

The striking, elegant woman in the mirror, Sassinak thought, had come a long way from the young ensign she had been. She had been lucky; she had been born with the good bones, the talent, the innate toughness to survive. She had had more luck along the way. But… she winked at herself, then grinned at that egotism. But she had cooperated with her luck, given it all the help she could. Tonight - tonight it was time for celebration. She had made it to Commander, past the dangerous doldrum ranks where the unwanted lodged sullenly until retirement age. She was about to have her own ship again, and this one a cruiser.

She eyed the new gown critically. Once she’d learned that good clothes fully repaid the investment, she’d spent some concentrated time learning what colors and styles suited her best. And then, one by one, she’d accumulated a small but elegant wardrobe. This, now… her favorite rich colors glowed, jewel-like reds and deep blues and purples, a quilted bodice shaped above a flowing, full skirt of deepest midnight, all in soft silui that caressed her skin with every movement. She slipped her feet into soft black boots, glad that the ridiculous fashion for high heels had once again died out. She was tall enough as it was. Her comm signal went off as she was putting on the last touches, the silver earrings and simple necklace with its cut crystal star.

“Just because you got the promotion and the cruiser doesn’t mean you can make us late,” said the voice in her ear, the Lieutenant Commander who’d arranged the party. He’d been her assistant when she was working for Admiral Pael. “Tobaldi’s doesn’t hold reservations past the hour - “

“I know; I’m coming.” With a last look at the mirror, she picked up her wrap and went out. As she’d half-expected, two more of her friends waited in the corridor outside, with flowers and a small wrapped box.

“You put this on now,” said Mira. Her gold curly hair had faded a little, but not the bright eyes or quick mind. Sassinak took the gift, and untied the silver ribbon carefully.

“I suppose you figured out what I’d be wearing,” she said, laughing. Then she had the box open, and caught her breath. When she looked at Mira, the other woman was smug.

“I bought it years ago, that time we were shopping, remember? I saw the way you looked at it, and knew the time would come. Of course, I could have waited until you made admiral - “ She ducked Sass’s playful blow. “You will, Sass. It’s a given. I’ll retire in a couple of years, and go back to Dad’s shipping company - at least he’s agreed to let me take over instead of that bratty cousin… Anyway, let me fasten it.”

Sassinak picked up the intricate silver necklace, a design that combined boldness and grace (and, she recalled, an outrageous price - at least for a junior lieutenant, which she had been then) and let Mira close the fastening. Her star went into the box - for tonight, at least - and the box went back in her room. Whatever she might have said to Mira was forestalled by the arrival of the others, and the six of them were deep into reminiscences by the time they got to Tobaldi’s.

Mira - the only one who had been there - had to tell the others all about Sass’s first cruise. “They’ve heard that already,” Sassinak kept protesting. Mira shushed her firmly.

“You wouldn’t have told them the good parts,” she said, and proceeded to give her version of the good parts. Sassinak retaliated with the story of Mira’s adventures on - or mostly off - horseback, one leave they’d taken together on Mira’s homeworld. “I’m a spacer’s brat, not a horsebreeder’s daughter,” complained Mira.

“You’re the one who said we ought to take that horse-packing trip,” said Sass. The others laughed, and brought up their own tales.

Sassinak looked around the group - which now numbered fourteen, since others had arrived to join them. Was there really someone from every ship she’d been on? Four were from thePadalyanReef, the cruiser on which she’d been the exec until a month ago. That was touching: they had given her a farewell party then, and she had not expected to see them tonight. But the two young lieutenants, stiffly correct among the higher ranks, would not have missed it - she could see that in their eyes. The other two, off on long home leave between assignments, had probably dropped in just because they enjoyed a party.

Her glance moved on, checking an invisible list. All but the prize she’d been given command of, she thought - and wished for a moment that Ford, wherever he was, could be there, too. Forrest had known her, true, but he’d missed that terrifying interlude, staying on the patrol ship with its original crew. Carew, whom she’d known as a waspish major when she was a lieutenant, on shore duty with Commodore… what had her name been? Narros, that was it… Carew was now a balding, cheery senior Commander, whose memory had lost its sting. Sassinak almost wondered if he’d ever been difficult, then saw a very junior officer across the room flinch away from his gaze. She shrugged mentally - at least he wasn’t causing her trouble any more. Her exec from her first command was there, now a Lieutenant Commander and just as steady as ever, though with gray streaking his thick dark hair. Sassinak blessed the genes that had saved her from premature silver… she wanted to wear her silver by choice, not necessity. She didn’t need gray hair to lend her authority, she thought to herself. Even back on theSunrose… But he was making a small speech, reminding her - and the others - of the unorthodox solution she had found for a light patrol craft in a particular tactical situation. Her friends enjoyed the story, but she remembered very well that some of the senior officers had not liked her solution at all. Her brows lowered, and Mira poked her in the ribs.