"Captain Harrington, I'm a registered Masadan citizen," Theisman replied. "My vessel iswasthe Masadan Naval Ship Principality."
"Your ship was the destroyer Breslau, built by the Gunther Yard for the People's Republic of Haven," Honor said flatly. His eyes widened a fraction, and the mobile corner of her mouth smiled thinly. "My boarding parties found her builder's plaque, as well as her splendidly official Masadan registry, Commander Theisman." Her smile vanished. "Shall we stop playing games now?"
He was silent for a moment, then replied in a voice as flat as hers.
"My ship was purchased by the Masadan Navy, Captain Harrington. My personnel are all legally Masadan citizens." He met her eye almost defiantly, and she nodded. This man knew his duty as well as she knew hers, and he was under orders to maintain his cover story, patently false or not.
"Very well, Commander," she sighed. "But if you intend to stick to that, may I ask why you wanted to see me?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Theisman replied, yet for the first time he appeared clearly uncomfortable. "I" He clenched his jaw, then went on steadily. "Captain, I don't know what you intend to do about the base on Blackbird, but I thought you should know. There are Manticoran personnel down there."
"What?!" Honor half-stood before she could stop herself. "If this is some kind of" she began ominously, but he interrupted her.
"No, Ma'am. Captain Y" He cleared his throat. "One of my superiors," he went on carefully, "insisted that the survivors from HMS Madrigal be picked up. They were. Thereafter, they were delivered to Blackbird to be held by ... the appropriate local authorities."
Honor sank back into her chair, and his painstaking choice of words sounded a warning deep in her brain. She had no doubt Masada would have happily abandoned any of Madrigal's survivors to their fateindeed, she'd assumed that was what had happened and tried not to think of the deaths they must have died. Now she knew some of them had lived, instead, but something about the way Theisman had said "appropriate local authorities" chilled her instant surge of joy. He was distancing himself from those authorities, at least as much as his cover story allowed. Why?
She started to ask him, but the plea in his eyes was even stronger than before, and she changed her question.
"Why are you telling me this, Commander?"
"Because" Theisman started sharply, then stopped and looked away. "Because they deserve better than getting nuked by their own people, Captain."
"I see." Honor studied his profile and knew there was moremuch moreto it than that. He'd started to reply too angrily, and his anger frightened her when she added it to the distaste with which he'd first referred to "local authorities."
"And if we simply leave the base for the moment, Commander, do you feel they would be endangered?" she asked softly.
"I" Theisman bit his lip. "I must respectfully decline to answer that question, Captain Harrington," he said very formally, and she nodded.
"I see," she repeated. His face reddened as her tone accepted that he had answered it, but he met her gaze stubbornly. This man had integrity as well as ability, she thought, and hoped there weren't many more like him in Haven's service. Or did she?
"Very well, Commander Theisman, I understand." She touched a stud and looked past Theisman as the hatch behind him opened to readmit Ramirez.
"Major, please return Commander Theisman to his quarters." Honor held the major's gaze. "You are to hold yourself personally responsible for seeing to it that he and his personnel are treated with the courtesy of their rank." Ramirez's eyes flashed, but he nodded, and she looked back at Theisman. "Thank you for your information, Commander."
"Yes, Ma'am." Theisman came back to attention.
"When you've returned the Commander to his quarters, Major, return straight here. Bring your company commanders with you."
Captain Harrington and her officers started to rise as Admiral Matthews walked through the hatch, but he waved them back, embarrassed by their deference after all they'd done. He nodded to Commander Brentworth and noticed that Harrington's Marine officers were also present.
"Thank you for coming, Admiral," Harrington said. "I know how busy you must have been."
"Not with anything my chief of staff and flag captain can't handle," Matthews said, waving away her thanks. "How bad are your own damages, Captain?"
"They could have been worse, but they're bad enough, Sir." Her slurred soprano was grim. "Apollo's impellers are undamaged, but she has almost two hundred dead and wounded, her port broadside is down to a single laser, and her starboard sidewall is beyond repair out of local resources."
Matthews winced. He had far more casualties, and his entire navy had been reduced to two cruisersone of which, Glory, was badly damagedand eleven LACs, but it was the Manticoran vessels which truly mattered. Everyone in this room knew that.
"Fearless got off more lightly," Harrington went on after a moment. "We've lost our long-range gravitics, but our casualties were low, all things considered, and our main armament, radar, and fire control are essentially intact. Troubadour has another twenty dead, and she's down two tubes and her Number Five Laser. She's also lost most of her long-range communications, but her sensor suite is undamaged. I'm afraid Apollo is out of it, but between them, Fearless and Troubadour are still combat effective."
"Good. I'm very sorry about Commander Truman's shipand her peoplebut I'm relieved to hear the rest of it, Captain. And grateful for all you and your people have done for us. Will you tell them that for me?"
"I will, Sir. Thank you, and I know your own losses were heavy. Please tell your people how much we admire the job they did on the Masadans."
"I will." Matthews allowed himself a weary chuckle. "And now that we've got that out of the way, why don't you tell me what's on your mind?"
The Manticoran officer gave him one of her strange, half-frozen smiles, and he tried to hide how shocking the expressiveness of the living side of her face made the other side's damagejust as he tried to hide his own instinctive thought that her injuries underscored exactly why women had no business in combat. He knew that perception was parochial of him, but it was a part of his cultural baggage, and two days was far too brief a period to divest himself of it.
"I've been discussing the problem of the base with my own officers," she replied. "May I assume the situation remains unchanged?"
"You may," Matthews said grimly. The two of them had agreed he was the only choice to demand Blackbird's surrender, lest seeing a woman on the other end of the com link push the fanatics below into suicidal defiancenot that they seemed inclined towards reason, anyway. "They continue to refuse to surrender. I think they hope they can stall us long enough for their other Havenite ship to return and rescue them."
"Or at least long enough to leave Grayson uncovered against her," Honor agreed. She looked at Venizelos, then back at Matthews. "None of our prisoners are ableor willingto tell us exactly what their other ship is, Admiral. On the other hand, many of them seem to have a rather disturbing confidence that, whatever she is, she's a match for all of us."