He looked down at his terminal as a message blinked up. “And that might just have become impossible,” he added. “You’re ordered to report to the Captain, at once.”
Augustus looked, for the first time, openly shaken. “Will… will he fire me?”
“I think he’ll probably yell at you for an hour,” Kurt said. A pilot or junior crewman who attracted the Captain’s attention was in deep shit. “I suggest you actually listen to him.”
He watched Augustus leave his office, then tapped the terminal, requesting an appointment with the Captain at his earliest convenience. Whatever was going on, he wanted an explanation before it blew up in his face. And he couldn’t escape the morbid feeling that an explosion was precisely what was about to occur.
James had privately expected to meet with Prince Henry at some point, no matter how determined the younger man was to succeed on his own merits. The file he’d read had made it very clear that the Prince had a chip on his shoulder the size of the carrier, which practically guaranteed that he would be in trouble sooner or later. Perhaps, James had told himself, they could head off any trouble before it turned into a major problem. Judging by the incident in the barracks, it was quite possible he was wrong.
He nodded in approval as the Prince marched into his cabin and saluted, smartly. One of his bodyguards had been a Royal Marine, James recalled from his readings, probably the person who had put the idea of joining the military into the Prince’s head. He couldn’t help wondering why the Prince hadn’t gone into the Marines, then decided that someone had probably reasoned that flying starfighters would be safer. It was probably a sign that no one had known about the aliens until Vera Cruz.
“Stand at ease,” James ordered. The CAG had already chewed out the Prince; perhaps, instead of yelling at him, James could give some good advice. “Precisely what were you thinking?”
“Captain?”
James held onto his temper with an effort. “Let’s not bullshit around,” he snapped. The office was soundproofed, fortunately. “You are Prince Henry, perhaps the first in line to the throne. I am perfectly aware of both your true identity and your brains. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking at all,” the Prince said, woodenly. Clearly, the CAG had already hammered his failure into his head. “I was just angry.”
James lifted his eyebrows. “At what?”
The Prince sagged. “At a very accurate comment made by someone I thought was an idiot,” he confessed. “It was my mistake that cost us the battle.”
“I see,” James said. He’d taken the time to review the simulation before calling the Prince to his office. North’s pithy observation had been largely correct. “And why did you make the mistake?”
“I saw an opportunity and took it,” the Prince said. “I was wrong.”
“So you were,” James agreed, dryly. “But I suggest, for the moment, that you focus on why you made that mistake. Or should I tell you all about it?”
The Prince said nothing, so James continued.
“I reviewed the files carefully,” James said. “Every starfighter pilot builds up a vast file while they’re in training, including constant evaluations of their developing skills and personalities. As you can imagine, you received more scrutiny than most.”
“I won’t ever get away from it,” the Prince said. “Will I?”
He stared down at the deck, sullenly. “I never asked to be a prince! Everything I get is the result of favouritism, every time I screw up its a world-class disaster. I…”
“Apart from one officer, there was no one at the Academy who knew who you were,” James pointed out, smoothly. “Everything you earned, you earned through being yourself.”
“But not in my own name,” the Prince said. “Who the hell is Charles Augustus anyway?”
“You,” James said. He sighed; despite himself, he understood the Prince far too well. There were aristocrats with very real power, both overt and covert, yet the Royal Family possessed little power. The Prince had few compensations for the endless scrutiny his life drew from the media. In fact, James would have argued he had nothing that made enduring the scrutiny worthwhile. “You earned your rank, Charles.”
The Prince looked up at him. “Did I? Or did someone put in a good word on my behalf?”
“You earned it yourself,” James said. “I checked your reports personally. You earned everything you got.”
He sighed. “But it’s pretty damn obvious that you’re walking around with a goddamn chip on your shoulder,” he continued. “That fight could easily have been worse — and I think you know it. The Royal Navy isn’t the place for glory hogs or people to prove themselves through lone wolf acts. It’s the place for men and women to work together to be the sword and shield of the British Commonwealth. I don’t have room on my ship for people who want to take their anger and frustration out on their fellow pilots and crewmembers. Nor do I view the idea of someone like that taking the throne with any enthusiasm.”
The Prince glared. “You know I will have no real power,” he said. “I won’t have anything at all, but fine clothes and a gilded cage. She’s welcome to it.”
He shook his head. “I just want to fade away into the Navy and vanish.”
“And how,” James asked, “do you plan to do that if you keep causing disciplinary incidents?”
He slapped the desk, making the Prince jump. “You’re not the first person on this ship to think that your problems are the worst in the universe,” he snapped. “And you’re certainly doing much better than I did at your age.”
“Because of my family,” the Prince said.
“Because of you,” James said. “Get this through your head right now. You earned your rank, you earned your place on this ship and you earned your chance to get killed by the aliens. I tell you, right now, that you earned everything you got since you entered the Academy.
“But, if you keep going like this, you will also earn your court martial and dishonourable discharge,” he added. “And I won’t save you from the consequences of your own actions.”
He met the younger man’s eyes, silently daring him to look away. “Man up, get back down to the barracks, apologise to your wingman and earn the medals and plaudits that would be on offer for any other starfighter pilot who survives a dangerous mission into enemy-held territory. Or” — he reached for the traditional sheet of paper — “you can write out your resignation now and save time. I’ll put you in a spare room for the rest of the operation, then you can go back home to Buckingham Palace and tell your father it was too damn hard to actually earn anything for yourself.”
The Prince coloured. “Sir…”
“Your choice, Mr. Augustus,” James said, evenly. “Be Mr. Augustus, be the pilot you can be, or be the person who crawled home. I don’t care which you pick, as long as you choose quickly and stick to it.”
“I’ll be Mr. Augustus,” the Prince said. “And I will earn everything for myself.”
James smiled. “You don’t see,” he said, quietly. “You’ve done that ever since you entered the Academy.”
He paused. “And one other thing?”
The Prince looked up, expectantly.
“You were… very undisciplined when you spoke to me just now,” James said. “Very impolite, very rude… any other Captain would have you up on charges by now, I suspect.”
He leaned forward. “There won’t be a second chance,” he added. “Go.”
The Prince left. James watched him go, then reached for his terminal. He would need to speak with the Admiral, then tell the CAG something. The man already knew that Charles Augustus wasn’t all he seemed; it wouldn’t be long, James suspected, before he guessed the truth. A few days with the ship’s files and he’d be able to pick out a number of prospective aristocrats who might have good reasons to hide their identities. Prince Henry would be on top of the list.