“Do not be insubordinate, Helfort,” Selvaraj snapped, “even though it’s the one thing you seem to be good at.”
“I’ll forget you said that, sir,” Michael said, “even though I’d be well within my rights to lodge a formal complaint against you for saying it.”
“Enough! Answer my damn question, Helfort. Resignation, yes or no?”
“Before I answer, sir, tell me something. You said ‘we think’ just a minute ago. Does that mean you have the director’s approval for suggesting I resign?”
“Ah.” Selvaraj shifted in his seat. “Yes, I think I can confirm that he has accepted my recommendation.”
“Fine, sir,” Michael said. “So you won’t mind if I ask to see the admiral’s formal endorsement of that recommendation. It would be a first, sir, I have to say. I’m a combat-proven captain, I have more medals and unit citations to my name than most officers three times my age”-including you, Captain Selvaraj, you deskbound asshole, he thought-“with more to come following Operation Opera, and yet you want me to resign just when Fleet’s screaming for all the command-qualified warfare spacers it can get its hands on. Sorry, sir, that does not make any sense. And if it doesn’t make sense to me, I wonder how … well, let’s just say I need to know that your offer has Admiral Karpovski’s formal approval … sir.”
Selvaraj’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “And if the admiral formally approved it, would that make any difference?”
Michael shook his head. “No, sir, none at all. I am what I am. So long as there’s one Hammer left standing, I belong in the Fleet. I belong in command of a Federated Worlds warship. You may not like me, sir-and frankly, I don’t care whether you do or you don’t-but my record has to speak for itself. To those who will listen,” he added bitterly.
Selvaraj peered at Michael for a moment. “Well,” he said, “seems we might have underestimated you, Helfort. Okay, I cannot force any officer with your record to resign, but be under no illusions. You are a liability. Where you go, death and destruction follow. No”-Selvaraj’s hands went up to forestall Michael’s protest-“to be fair, that’s not your fault; it’s just the way things have worked out. The problem is that it’s personal. Here. Let me com you an intelligence report we received two days ago. Perhaps you’ll judge us less harshly when you’ve read it.”
Michael read the report carefully. When he finished, his face was grim. He stared at Selvaraj. “The bastards,” he said. “What can I say? So the Hammers want me dead, their chief councillor, the top dog himself, wants me dead. Shit, sir. The Hammers want all of us dead.” He shook his head. “I don’t think it changes anything.”
“Maybe not, but it still leaves me with a problem. Where I post you becomes a high-priority target for the Hammers just because you’re there. Whether you like it or not, that is something Fleet has to consider.”
“Fair enough, sir. So what’s next? You must have known I’d turn down the offer to resign.”
“I must admit we suspected you would,” Selvaraj said with a brief smile. “So here’s the deal, and”-his voice hardened-“it’s the only offer you’re going to get that puts you back in command … if you accept: captain in command of Redwood.”
“Redwood?” Michael said, unsure what the man actually meant.
“I said that, didn’t I?” Selvaraj said testily.
“Yes, sir, you did. Sorry. But Redwood? She’s one of the reserve dreadnoughts. I understood Fleet was scrapping them.”
“It should, but it can’t. Too many missions for too few ships with too few spacers. It’ll be the last dreadnought, but so long as it’s operational, it will be in our order of battle. Fleet is also giving you Red River and Redress. They’ll constitute Dreadnought Squadron Four. They are the last of the dreadnoughts, I’m happy to say, so do not waste them.”
“Fine, sir,” Michael said, ignoring Selvaraj’s sarcasm, his mood lifting from knowing he would be back in command, and not of one dreadnought but three. “Redwood and Dreadnought Squadron Four it is, sir. I accept.”
“Good,” Selvaraj said, tight-lipped. “So noted … right, that’s official. Let me wish you luck in Redwood. Nyleth-B needs you.”
You bastard, Michael said to himself. He had not spotted the trap until too late; he swore under his breath when it slammed shut, with Selvaraj’s sly smile of satisfaction widening into a broad grin. Michael swore some more. Nyleth-B sat about as far from the front line as one could get, so far that even the Hammers would have trouble getting to him. But so be it, he decided, so be it. If that was the best offer he was going to get, it would be up to him to make something of it.
“Can’t wait, sir,” he said.
“I’m sure,” Selvaraj snapped. “One more thing. The crew of Reckless has been posted en bloc to Redwood. Something to do with not having to train a new crew from scratch, and that includes marines. Because of Nyleth-B’s remoteness, Fleet is augmenting your marine detachment with a second platoon.” Selvaraj shook his head. “Who knows why, but Ferreira, Sedova, and Kallewi have all accepted the posting without complaint, and so have the rest of the crew. The additional marines didn’t get a choice.”
Michael did not know what to say, so he said nothing.
“You can go,” Selvaraj said, waving Michael away. “I’ll get your orders posting you to Redwood in command. Orders establishing the Fourth will be promulgated when Fleet gets around to it.”
“Thank you, sir,” Michael said, deadpan. “Much appreciated.”
Selvaraj’s eyes narrowed. “Get out of my office, Helfort, before I kick you out.”
Michael was confused. Selvaraj might be an A-grade jerk, but at least the man had given him a command. Not just any old command, either, but a dreadnought squadron command. And he was going back into space with the team from Reckless, Kallewi and his marines included. All that was better than good, but the more he studied it, the less attractive the deal appeared.
What worried him were the things Selvaraj had not said. Why had he been sidelined? Why the posting to Nyleth-B? It had to be the least challenging command in all of Federation space. He did not like it one bit. He wanted to be in the thick of it, somewhere he could make a difference, somewhere he could play a part in bringing Anna home, somewhere he could help to bring the goddamn Hammers to account.
With the elation engendered by the prospect of another dreadnought command evaporating fast, he set off toward Fleet operations. He needed to know a lot more about Nyleth-B.
Friday, June 15, 2401, UD
President’s House, Foundation, Terranova
The final bars of the Federated Worlds’ national anthem faded away across the crowded lawn in front of the President’s House.
Spacers and marines in dress uniform stood at ease, and the diminutive white-haired woman holding the Federated Worlds’ highest office stepped forward to stand behind a simple wooden lectern.
For a moment she said nothing, looking left and then right at the two stands where families and friends were taking their seats after the formality of the Presidential Salute. She turned back to look at Michael and the rest of the spacers and marines from the dreadnoughts Reckless, Retrieve, and Recognizance standing ranged on the lawn in front of the low dais.
“Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the President’s House. Or should I say, given how long I’ve been here, my house?”
Michael chuckled as laughter bubbled up from the crowd. Diouf was the longest serving of the Federation’s many presidents; Michael reckoned she was so popular, she could make a crowd of hungover alcoholics laugh.
“In the past,” she said, “I have been accused of making long-winded speeches, and yes, I will admit I have been guilty of that”-more laughter-“but not today, you will all be pleased to hear. That’s because today is not about me nor is it about the office of president. It is about the men and women standing in front of me. And I do not need to say much, because what needs to be said takes just a few sentences.